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BallaDS from S^mnstvipts, 

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F. J. FUR:N^iyALL, M.A. 








Cf)e TBallaD ^ocietp, 



3 and 10 




Preface . . . ix 

Introduction . . . xi 


I. A POOEE MANS PITTANCE, by Richard WiUiams 
I The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington 
■ ) Anthonie Babington, his Complaint 

2. The Life and Death of Essex 

3. Acclamatio Patrie, or the Powder Treasons 








5. The Partheniades of George Puttenham .... 72 

6. Ehzabeth, Lord Saue, 

A proper new ballade, wherein is plaine to be seene 

how god blesseth england for loue of o'^ Queene . . 92 

7. A Poem in Praise of Queen Elizabeth .... 96 

8. Vpon the Death of Queen Ehzabeth .... 98 

9. Vpon Sir Francis Drakes returne from his Voyage about 

y^ world & the Queenes meeting him .... 100 

10. On Queene Elizabeth Queene of England . . . 101 

11. On Queen Elizabeth 102 

Nonconformity in the time of Elizabeth .... 103 
The copie of the petition, by the gentlemen of Suffolk, 

to the Lords of the Counsaile. An° Dom. 1583, July 105 

12. A liartie thaukes giuinge to god for our queenes most 

excellent maiestie, and is to be sounge to y^ tune of 

y^ Medley 109 

13. Queen Elizabeth's Rejoycing 112 

14. Latin Verses on Elizabeth's proposed Marriage with Anjou 114 

15. Teshe's Verses on the Order of the Garter . . .115 



16. To the blessed Sainct of famose memory Elizabeth ; The 

humble petition of her now wretched and contemptible 

y^ Commons of Euglande 130 

17. The Answere to the Libell called 

The Commons teares : 
The wiper of the peoples teares, 

The dryer vp of doubts and feares . . .132 

18. To the most high and mighty, the most piouse and merci- 

fuU, y^ cheife Chancellor of Heauen and ludge of 
Earth ; The most humble Petitions of y^ poore dis- 
tressed Commons of long afflicted Englande . . 137 


19. Letter from John Downynge to his friend Bland . . 142 

20. Letters from the Deventer Crew to the Candlewick Crew 144 

21. The Second Letter of the Deventer Crew . . .149 

22. Answer of the Candlewick Crew 153 


Mr. R Simpson) 157-191 

23. L A Libell touching Campion 164 

24. n. Vpon the death of M. Edmund Campion, one of the 

Societie of the holy name of Jesus . . . .166 

25. An other, vpon the same 173 

26. A Dialogue betwene a Catholike and Consolation . .175 

27. The coraplaynt of a Catholike for the death of M. Edmund 

Campion 177 

28. IIL Verses in the Libell, made in prayse of the death of 

Maister Campion, one of the societie of the holie name 
of Jesus ; heere chaunged to the reproofe of him and 
the other Traitours > .180 

29. Another vpon the Same .185 

30. A Dialogue betweene a Christian and Consolation . .187 

31. The Complaint of a Christian, remembring the vnnaturall 

treasons of Edmund Campion and his Confederates . 189 

32. IV. Campion's Example 191 


33, The Spider's Web (or Anacharsis sayinge of Solons written 

Lawes) 192 

34. Lilliat, his Maleconteut .193 



The Queenes ma. prayer at the goinge owt of the uavye, 

1597 197 

A brief relation of which happened in the expedition of 
the lord lieutenant generall of Ireland towards y^ north 
parte of that kingdom from the 28 of August vntill the 

ix. of September, 1599 199 

Knightes made in Erland 1599 by the E. Essex . . 204 
Contemporary account of the Death of Essex . . 208 
Another contemporary account 211 

35. Verses vpon the report of the death of the right Honor- 

able the Lord of Essex 217 

36. A Poem made on the Earle of Essex (being in disgrace 

with Queene Eliz) : by m'^ henry Cuffe his Secretary . 240 

37. Elegy on the E[arl] of Essex 245 

38. [Robert Earle of Essex against Sir Walter Rawleigh] . 250 

39. Verses made by the Earle of Essex in his Trouble . .251 

40. The disparinge complainte of wretched Rawleighe for his 

treacheries wrought against the worthie Essex . . 252 


41. Rawleigbs Caueat to Secure Courtiers .... 262 

42. On S^' Wa. Raleigh's Death 269 


43. Do'" Lewis, his foolish invectiue against the Parlament 

for proceedinge to censure his Lord Verulame . .271 

44. Latin Verses on Bacon ...... 

45. Verses made by an vnknowue Author vpon the falle of S"^ 

Francys Bacon Lord Verulam, viscounte St. Albons & 
Late Lord Chauncelor of Englande . 

46. Verses made by Mr. Fra. Bacon .... 




47. Lord of Warrick 279 

48. Thomas Ellis in Praise of Frobisher .... 282 

49. John Kirkham of Martin Frobisher .... 284 



Vicars on Queen Elizabeth 286 

50. A succinct memoriall of that matchles mirror of princely 

royalty, Queene of vertue, patronesse of Christian piety, 
and patterne of most worthy inimitable vertues and 
endowments of grace and godnes, angelicall Elizabeth 287 
James the First 288 

51. Verses vpo the Kings workes to Cabridge dedicated . 289 

52. Vpo the death of Queene Anne — the verses of King James 290 

53. An Epitaph of yt second Alexander, Prince Henry, that 

glorious daystar of Brytan's consort, too soone hid fro 
vs by y® cloud of God's wrath : yt most oderiferous 
flower of Euglands hope, too suddenly nipt by the 
chilling frost of heavens high displeasure . . .291 

54. The good Sheepheards sorrow for the death of his sonne 

P. Henrye 292 

55. Against the Papists : For thinking it meritorious to kill 

the King and all his Protestants, cause they be not of 
their Church — desiring subversion rather than con- 

uersion 293 

Robert Cecil 297 

56. Vpon the death of Robert Cecill, in Queene Elizabeth's 

raigne Lord Treasurer and Master of the Wardes and 

Liveries 297 

' The Winter-King 293 

57. In obitum Henrici Frederici majoris natu Frederici 

comitis palatini 299 

Notes 301 

Index of the first lines . 309 

General Index 311 


It will not be necessary that I should say much by 
way of preface to the miscellaneous collection in- 
cluded in the present volume. The notices appended 
to each of the pieces will speak for them. Although 
for the most part deficient in poetical merit, they 
will have their value to the antiquarian and historical 
student. Many of the most life-like sketches and 
photographic portraits by Macaulay were drawn from 
the contemporaneous broadsides which he laid under 
contribution, and we have all, no doubt, felt surprise 
on running our eyes over the notes to his invaluable 
works when we have realized the strange sources 
whence his information was frequently drawn. The 
immortal chapter on the condition of England and 
the manners of the English in the time of Charles II. 
could only have been written by one who had made 
an exhaustive study of the fugitive literature of the 
Caroline period. 

Several of the pieces included in this book have 
unfortunately been already printed ; but as they have 
III. b 


made their appearance in works wliicli have now 
become excessively rare, their reproduction cannot be 
unwelcome to the reader. 

In conclusion, I must thank Mr. (Adams) Cokayne, 
formerly Eouge Dragon, now Somerset Herald, for 
some valuable information on the personages named 
in Teshe's poem. For the Introduction and ]N"otes 
on the Campion poems I am indebted to Mr. Eichard 
Simpson, the author of an exhaustive biography of 
the unfortunate priest. 

Mr. Furnivall edited the text of Eichard Williams's 
Poor Mans Pittance from the author's MS. for the 
Society in 18G8. I have now added, at his request, 
an Introduction and Notes to it. He wishes to correct 
the date [1604] in the last line of p. 2 to [1605], as 
Williams miscalled the third year of James I. '' The 
seconde yeare." I must thank him for many valuable 
suggestions, and the kind interest he has taken in the 
book throughout. 




Anthony Babington. 

TuE cruel policy adopted by Elizabeth towards the Roman 
Catholics, her unjust detention in prison of Mary Queen of Scots, 
and the loud and frequent anathemas hurled against her by Pope 
and Spaniard, caused her reign to be fertile in plots and intrigues. 
The position of the Papists during this time had become very 
anomalous. In consequence of the Bull issued against her by 
Pius V. declaring that she was never at any time the true Queen 
of England, and absolving all her subjects from their allegiance, 
the Government resolved to take even more stringent measures 
than had been adopted previously. By 13 Eliz. it was treason 
to call the Queen heretic, schismatic or usurper, to introduce 
a Papal Bull, or to send relief to the fugitives over sea. 

Even the most private practice of their religion was forbidden 
to Eomanists ; at any hour they might be hurried before the 
Courts of High Commission, where they could be interrogated 
as to how often they had been at church, and were in consequence 
liable to fines and imprisonment. Their houses were constantly 
being searched, and even foreign ambassadors complained that 
their chapels were visited by informers. 

In 1581 a severe statute was passed, which was entitled "An 
Act to retain the Queen's Majesty's subjects in their due obedience " 
(23 Eliz. c. 1). It is thereby provided that any person pervert- 
ing another to the Eomish religion should be treated as a 
traitor, and the person reconciled incur the penalty of misprision 
of treason. Saying mass was to bo punished by a fine of 200 
marks ; hearing it by a fine of 100 marks, with, in each case, a 



year's imprisonment. Absence from cliurcli was to be visited with 
the infliction of a fine of £20 a month ; and if it continued for 
a year or more, two sureties of £200 each were to be given for 
future good behaviour. 

The kingdom was now full of spies, and the rack and gallows 
daily claimed their victims. The cotnitry saw something very like 
a renewal of tho far-famed Marian persecutions, which form so 
dark a page in our national fasti, and have earned a very dis- 
agreeable epithet for their sujiposed authorizer. Although the 
English Eoman Catholics showed considerable loyalty at tlie 
time of the Armada, yet within three months after its defeat, 
when leniency might have become cheap from so unsuspected 
a triumph, more than thirty persons — laity and clergy included — • 
were put to death on account of their creed. 

A statute was enacted, compelling those Catholics not possess- 
ing 20 marks a 3'ear to abjure the realm within three months 
after conviction, under the penalty of felony without benefit of 
clergy. In 1593 a very severe Act was passed against Popish 
recusants — as the Court phrase was. They were now not to 
travel a distance of more than five miles from their houses. 

It can be readily imagined that these Draconian enactments 
produced an average quota of victims. The names of the un- 
happy victims are duly paraded before us by Lingard. To the 
man who reads history in an unprejudiced spirit they prove — 
if any proof were needed — how very little the doctrine of re- 
ligious toleration was understood, obviously a growth of far 
later times. In pp. 157-191 of this book mention is made of 
the sufferings of Campion. But perhaps one of the saddest 
instances of this injudicious severity is furnished by the fate of 
Robert Southwell. 

This unfortunate man was a Eomish priest, who was appre- 
hended in 1592, while domiciled in the house of the Countess of 
Arundel. He was thrown into the Tower, and frequently put to 
the torture. After three years' imprisonment, he was, on his own 
application, brought to trial, and so eager were his judges to 


carry out his sentence, tliat he was even consigned to the execu- 
tioner on the following day. Lord Burghley, who had been 
implored to make some settlement of his case, and release him 
from the dungeon in which he Avas languishing, brutally re- 
marked, that " if he was in such haste to be hanged, he should 
have his desire." His poems, many of which are of great beauty, 
are well known to the lovers of our older English literature.^ 

Of the various plots attempted in this reign, the most impoi'tant, 
from its fatal effects upon the captive Queen of Scots, and the 
romantic character of some of those implicated in it, was un- 
questionably that of Anthony Babington and his followers, 
whose dismal fate forms the subject of the poem printed on 
Images 5-22. 

In this remarkable conspiracy three distinct elements may bo 
traced : first, that of the enthusiasts sent into the country by the 
Pope, who aimed at nothing less than the assassination of the 
Queen; secondly, some English Catholics, who joined with 
a view to better the condition of their co-religionists, but pro- 
bably with no design upon the person of their Sovereign ; and 
thirdly, the counterplot inaugurated by Walsingham and his 
spies, who hoped so far to implicate IMiiry that her detection 
should involve the loss of her life. Anthony Babington, 
the chief figure iu this web of threads and cross-threads, 
— a hot-headed youth, with a handsome figure, well- stored 
purse, and little discretion, — was the son of a certain Henry 
Babington, of Dethick, in Derbyshire, an opulent landowner. 
The estate had come into the family by the marriage of Thomas, 
second son of Sir John Babington, of Chilwell, with Isabella, 
daughter and heiress of Kobert Uethick, who died in 1467. 

> Thus how solemnly funereal and mournfully quaint are the stanzas beginning, 
" Before my face tlie picture hangs," to be found, it is true, in almost every book 
of extracts, but none the worse for being somewhat hackneyed, as we cannot hear 
such choice poems too often. When we read this poem, we seem to be gazing 
into an open grave. There is something very fine, too, about Southwell's prose, 
especially his "Marie ilagdalcn's FuueruU Tcares." 


The unfortunate Anthony was born in 15G9, and lost his father 
ten years after his birth. During his minority his mother 
married again : her second husband being Henry Foljambe, who 
seems to have treated his step-son with great kindness. This 
circumstance is alluded to in the poem (pp. 10, 11) : — 

" But in the state of -widowliode not longe shee tarried, 
For with that good gentleman, Henrye Foliambe she married. 
Whoe loved ts all temlerlie as wee had bene his owne, 
And was verye earefuU of oure education." 

In favour of this gentleman Anthony charged liis estates with 
100 marks per annum, as a token of his gratitude. Besides 
himself, his fatlier had left two daughters and tliree sons, Francis, 
George, and Cliarles. The latter is said to have committed suicide 
in prison, probably because implicated in the conspiracy for which 
his brother suffered. On the 2oth September, 1587, among the 
prisoners in the Clink, we find Charles Babington. 

The early youth of Anthony seems to have been spent in 
gaiety and the various amusements of the town. Being too early 
master of himself, and with abundance of means at his disposal, 
he led a wild and reckless existence, no doubt frequenting the 
theatres, where certainly his morals would not be improved, if 
Stubbes has given us a correct account in his Anatomic of Abuses, 
1584) :".... Marke the flockyng and runny ng to Theaters 
and Curteins, daylie and hourelie, night and dale, tyme and tide, 
to see Plaies and Enterludes, where suche wanton gestures, 
suche bawdie speeches, suche laughyng and flearying, such kiss- 
yng and bussyng, suche clip)pyng and culling, such wincking 
and glauncing of wanton eyes, and the like, is used, as is 
wonderfull to beholde." — The English Drama and Stage, Eoxb. 
Libr. 1869, p. 223. We feel that we liave a picture of him 
when Dekker is describing the deportment of a gallant in Paul's 
walks ; and the later sketch of Earle ' will suit him well, when 
drawing the dandy of his time: — " ilea obserues London trulier 

' Microcosmographie, edited by Arbcr, p. 39. 


then tlio Tenners, and liis businesse is tlie street : tbo stage, tlio 
court, and those places where a proper man is best showne. If 
hee be qualified in gaming extraordinary, ho is so much the 
more gentle and compleate, and hee learnes the beast [best] 
oathes for the purpose. These are a great part of his discourse, 
and he is as curious in their newnesse as the fashion. His other 
talke is Ladies and such pretty things, or some iests at a Play. 
His Pick-tooth beares a great part in his discourse, so does his 
body; the vpper parts wliereof are as starcht as his linnen, 
and perchance vse the same Laundresse. Hee has learnt to 
ruffie his face from his Boote, and takes great delight in his 

walke to heare his Spurs gingle He is one neuer 

serious but Avith his Taylor, when hee is in conspiracie for the 
next deuice." 

Everything shows, however, that the unfortunate youth was 
of a friendly and genial temperament, and much endeared to his 
friends. There is something very touching in the words of 
Chidiock Tichbourne on the scaffold : " Before this thing chanced 
we lived together in the most flourishing estate. Of whom 
went report in the Strand, Fleet Street, and elsewhere about 
London, but of Babington and Tichbourne? No threshold was 
of force to brave our entry. Thus we lived, and wanted nothing 
we could wish for, and God knows what less in my head than 
matters of state ! I have always thought it impious, and denied 
to be a dealer in it ; but in regard of my friend I was silent, and 
so consented." 

Babington appears to have made some profession of studying the 
law. He soon after married Margery, daughter of his guardian, 
Philip Draycot, of Paynsley or Peinsley, in Staffordshire, by 
whom he had one daughter, Mary, who died at the age of eight 
years. It was a Eoman Catholic fimiily, and we find Draycot 
apprehended as a recusant in 1587. 

At the persuasion of John Ballard, a priest, who had entered 
England in disguise, and made a tour through a considerable 
part of tlio country to tamper witli the disaffected and tliosc who 


were attached to the old faith, Babington joined the conspiracy, 
the leading features of which seem to have been the assassination 
of Elizabeth and the liberation of the Queen of Scots. Two 
other chief participators were a desperado named Savage, who 
had served the King of Spain in the war then raging against the 
revolted Netherlands, and a certain Pooley, who, although to all 
appearance faithful to tho conspirators, was in reality in secret 
communication with Walsingham, Elizabeth's minister. 

Mary, whose hopes of release had recently become fsiinter than 
ever through the ti-eaty which had been concluded between her 
son James and the English Queen, was induced to become a 
participator in this plot, although at her trial she steadfastly 
affirmed that she had consented to nothing but an insurrection, 
and was in no way i^rivy to the attempt on the life of her 
persecutor. A secret correspondence was carried on between 
Mary and Babington. The letters were all written in cipher ; 
but in each instance Walsingham was made acquainted with the 
sending. The epistles were opened on their transmission, de- 
ciphered, and resealed by two experts, named Phelipps and 
Gregory, and forwarded to their destination, as if they had not 
been tampered with. 

On the 14th of July, 1586, Mary is said to have received 
an important communication from Babington. It described the 
projected invasion of the country, the plan for her escape, and for 
the assassination. "This letter," says Tytler, "was not produced 
at the trial, and Mary denied ever having received it." The 
original certainly does not exist at present, but Avhat purj)orts 
to be a copy in a clerk's hand has been preserved. Besides 
the contents previously mentioned, Babington apologizes for 
his long silence, which he attributes to the extreme difficulty 
of safe communication with her. He tells her that six 
jrentlemen had been selected for the honourable office of assassi- 
nating the Queen, and conjures her to be mindful of their 
posterity should they perish in the attempt. In her reply to 
this remarkable document, Maiy fully accepts tlie responsibilities 


of the conspiracy;' that is, if the document at present passhig 
for her answer, which does not profess to be any more than a 
copy, and is preserved in the State Paper Office, has not been 
tampered with by Walsingham, as was asserted by Camden, and 
is also insinuated by Tytler.^ The plan of the wily secretary 
had now fully succeeded ; it only remained to seize his victim, 
who had never indulged a suspicion that her correspondence had 
met any other eyes than those for which it was intended. 

She was at this time a prisoner at Chartley, in Staffordshire, 
and Phelipps, who deciphered the letters, was living under the same 
roof with her. She had remarked the man about the premises, 
and had a sort of half notion that his mission boded no good. 
In a letter, still preserved, she has left a description of this 
fellow as slender, yellow-bearded, pitted in the face with small- 
pox, and short-sighted ; so that we have as it were a photogi'aph 
of Walsingham's creature transmitted to us — a man fitted for dark 
passages and by-paths, just such a person as under a despotic 
government becomes a police-spy. 

The Queen of Scots was still fond of and still able to indulge 
in the pleasures of the chase. On the morning of the 8th of 
August her keeper, Sir Amias Paulet — the same who had, with 
such virtue or prudence, resisted the dark hints given him by 
Elizabeth about poisoning his captive — invited her to hunt on 

1 The mention of the design of the six gentlemen exists only in a postscript 
to the letter, and the defenders of Mary— notably Prince Labanoff and latterly 
M. Petit [" History of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots." Translated from Professor 
Petit by Charles de Flandre. London, 1874.]— consider it to have been fabri- 
cated by Phelipps. The subject is also cleverly handled in the new work of 
Father Morris ("The Letter-books of Sir Amias Poulet," 1874), who considers 
that the passage is inconsistent with other parts of the letter, where Mary is 
apprehensive of the punishment which Elizabeth will probably inflict upon her 
friends, if she succeeds in effecting her escape. She could therefore hardly have 
contemplated the immediate assassination of her enemy. The question is too 
intricate to admit of being discussed here, and I cannot do better than refer the 
reader to the above-mentioned work of Morris (pp. 227-242), where he will find 
the specious argument of Mr. Froude demolished with much ingenuity. 

2 "History of Scotland," vol. iv. p. 127. Edin. 1864. 


the neiglibouriug estate of Tixall. She rode with a small retinue, 
including lier two secretaries, Nau and Curie, from Chartley, but 
on her way was stopped by a Mr, Thomas Gorges, who informed 
her of the detection of the consj)iracy, and further that she was 
to be conveyed to Tixall, and not to be allowed to return to 
Chartley. At first she abandoned herself to a paroxysm of rage 
and despair, and called upon her companions to rescue their 
mistress from the traitors who had ventured to lay hands upon 
her. Her passion, however, lasted but for a moment. Eeflecting 
how useless all opposition must be, she allowed herself to be 
carried off; while her attendants Nau and Curie were detained, 
and her desk and papers rifled and ransacked by the obsecpiious 
emissaries of Elizabeth. 

Leaving, however, the unfortunate Queen, over whom already 
the shadow of the scaffold was looming, let us trace the fate of the 
foolish men who had linked themselves to this insane enterprise. 

On the following day Ballard, the priest, was arrested, and 
Babington now suddenly found that Pooley had betrayed them. 
Being closely watched and hotly pursued upon the faintest trace 
of their presence being indicated, he and his fellow conspirators 
hid themselves in the neighbourhood of Harrow and St. John's 
Wood.^ The search became more and more careful. Indeed wo 
have a letter from Lord Burghley himself, stimulating the zeal 
of the pursuers, and finding fault with their inadequate caution, 
because, instead of dispersing, they hunted their victims in 
gangs, thereby arousing suspicion. Moreover, as he tells them, 
their ideas of the persons who were to be arrested were far 
from accurate. They seem only to have known that one of the 
leading malefactors "had a hooked nose." Perhaps Babington 
was the gentleman (to follow the direction) "talle of stature, 
of whitely complexion, somewhat rownde faced, his beard flaxen 

' These circumstances are narrated minutely by Mr. Froude, wlio has treated 
the whole subject somewhat sensationally, and perhaps drawn too much upon an 
exuberant imanrination. 


and cut sliorte, having a doublett and hose of yeallowc fustian 
and a russet cloake." 

Williams is very explicit in giving the names of all those who 
were apprehended and suftcred. They were finally, fourteen in 
number, brought to trial. The indictment charged them with 
a two-fold conspiracy, one plot to murder the Queen, and another 
to raise a rebellion within the realm in favour of Mary Stuart. 
Many of the prisoners had been apprehended in the house of 
a farmer, named Bellamy, who was destined to pay dear for his 
mistaken hospitality. lie is alluded to in the poem — 

"Lastlie Bellamye, oiu- hoste, that made us all the chere." 

Babington, Ballard, Savage, Barnewell, Tichebourne, and Donne, 
admitted their guilt : the remaining pleaded not guilty, and 
of these five wex'e convicted as accomplices on the authority 
of passages extracted from the confessions of the others, and 
two. Gage and Bellamy, as accessories after the fact, because 
they had assisted the conspirators after the proclamation issued 
ajcainst them.^ 

* "Jerome Bellamye attaynted by verdict of xij men. His offence was in that 
he ayded and releyved Babington, Barnewell, and Dune in the woods and in his 
mother's haye barne, after that he vnderstood that searche was made for them 
as traytors, for conspiring the deathe of the Queeue's Majestic." — Quoted from 
the Heliquar;/, Yo\. n. -p. 177. "In his examination Richard Mascall, servant 
to Mrs. Bellamy, stated that lerome Bellamy appoynted him to guide the 
parties, and willed him to carry meat to these parties ; he met with them in 
the wood & knew Donne, for that Donne had been divers times at Mrs. 
Bellamy's house : he saw them first Ipng on the ground in the woods, and 
then he went to his Mistress' house ; when in the house he saw Donne and 
lerome. lerome delivered unto this party (Mascall) the meat & 3 loaves of 
bread, which this party carried at night : they ran to the hay barn on Thursday 
night & all five lay there. The meat was dressed in his Mistress' house. Upon 
Sunday at night they were altogether in the woods. Donne and Gage were 
taken upon Sunday night between 8 & 9 of the clock at uight, and this party 
being with them fled from the watchmen. Mr. Donne hath a son at Windsor, 
dwelling in a farm called Shawe, who is servant to the Master of the Bolls (Sir 
Gilbert Gcr.ird). Dolman & one Walle came of late to his Mistress' house. 
Donue told this pirty that all these other parties did suck to save themselves for 
religion's sake." — The Eeliquanj, vol. ii. p. 181. 


On tlie day of his execution, Sept. 20th, Babington acknow- 
ledged, and subscribed before the Privy Council the document 
(still preserved in the State Paper Office) in vp-hich he con- 
fessed his secret correspondence with the Scotch Queen. " This 
last is the alphabet by which only I have written with the Queene 
of Scotts, or receaved letters from her." 

The wretched men were led to death according to the order 
and in the manner described in the ballad. Lincoln's Inn Fields 
was the place appointed for this melancholy spectacle, because 
they had been accustomed to meet there to concoct their con- 
spiracy. Ballard suffered first, and after him Babington. He is 
Bald to have maintained a haughty demeanour on the scaffold, 
refusing either to kneel or to take off his hat. The curious 
reader may see the full details of his death in Howell's State 
Trials ; but the account is too harrowing for transcription here. 
The cruel mode of execution which prevailed at this time, and 
lasted, we must remember, till the middle of the eighteenth 
century, caused the miserable prisoner to be almost embowelled 
and quartered alive. Strong as was the feeling against these 
misguided men, and sluggish as were all public demonstrations 
at this time, the sickening butchery met with such reprobation 
from the people that it was considered injudicious to attempt to 
repeat it on the following day, although we are told that the 
Queen was particularly anxious that the culprits should pay tlieir 
penalty to the full. 

Those who suffered on the 2 1st of September were simply 
hanged : the disgusting accessories of their punishment being 

A touching letter was written by poor Babington, just before 
he suffered. A copy of it is preserved among the Ashmolean 
MSS. (Ash. MS. 781, leaf 73.) "The Coppie of Anthony 
Babington's let^ written to Queene Eliza : being in Prison for 
high treason committed against her Ma*"*." I here add it from 
the Bcliquarij, vol. i. p. 3 : 


*' Most gratious Souvraigne, yf cither bitter teares, a pensive contrite bartp, 
ore any dutyfull sight of the wretched Synner might work any pitty in your 
royall brest, I would wringe out of my drayned eyes as much bloode .Ts in bc- 
moaninge my drery tragedye shold hamentably bewayll my faulte, & somewhat 
(no dought) move you to compassion, but synnce there is no proportione 
betwixte the qualitye of my crimes and any human commiseration, Showe 
sweet Queene, some mirakle on a wretch that lyethe prostrate in yr prison, most 
grivously bewaylinge his offence, and imploringe such comforte at your anoynted 
hande as my poore wives misfortunes doth begge, my childe innocente doth 
crave, my gyltless family doth wishe, and my hcynous trecheryc dothe Icaste 
deserve. So shall your divine mersy make your glorye shyne as far above all 
princes, as my most horrible practices aj-e more detestable amongst your beste 
subjectcs, whom lovinglye and happiclye to governe, 

" I humbly beseche the mercye Master himself to grante for his sweet Sonnes 
sake, lesus Christe. 

" Yor maties moste unfortunate, bicausc most disloyall subiecte, 

" Anthonye Babington." ^ 

1 I extract the following from the Eeliquanj, vol. i. pp. 52-53 : — " Stowe, 
in his 'Summarie of the Chronicles of England' in 1604, speaking of the 
execution, says : ' On the loth September other 7 were likewise arraigned, who 
pleaded not guiltie, were found guilty by lury, and had judgement. These 
traytors, 14 in number, were executed in Lincoln's Inne-fields, on a stage or 
scaffold of timber, strongly made for that purpose ; even in the place where they 
had used to meete, & to conferre of their trayterous practices, there were they 
hanged, bowelled, and quartered, 7 of the«i on the 20 of Sep. to wit — J. Ballard, 
priest; A. Babyngton, Esquire; J. Savadge, Gent. ; R. Barnwell, Gen.; Chidiake 
Tichborn, Esquire ; Charles Tilney, Esquire ; E. Avington, Esquire. The other 
7 were likewise executed on the 21 of September, to wit — T. Salisbury, Esquire ; 
Henrie Dunne, Gent. ; Edward Jones, Esquire ; I. Traverse, Gent. ; I. Charnocke, 
Gent.; E. Gage, Gen.; lerome Bellamie, Gent.;' etc. 

"In a very rare black-letter tract, 'The Censure of a Loyall Subiect upon 
certaine noted Speacli & behauiours of those fourteene notable Traitors, at the 
place of their executions, the xx. & xxi. of September, last past,' printed in 
1587, in the possession of the Editor, the following account of the execution 
occurs : — * * * 

'Wilk. Next unto this priest, Anthony Babbington was made ready to the 
Gallowes, and in euery point was handled like unto Ballard. 

' West. Little may be the mone, bad was the best ; but what observed you 
in his end ? 

' Wilk. A signe of his former pride, for whereas the rest, through the cogita- 
tion of death, were exercised in praier upon their knees, and bare headed, 
he whose tourne was next, stode on his feete, with his hat on his bead, as 
if he had been but a beholder of the execution : concerning his religion, be 
died a papist. His treasons were so odious, as the sting of consciewce perswaded 
him to acknowledge himselfe to be a most grievous trespasser against God & 
the Queen's Majesty. • * * 

' Wilk. Next unto Babington, Sauadge was made ready for the execution.' " 

xxii iNTRODUcrrroN. 

Among a curious list of Lis books and other cluittels, given by 
Mr. Purton Cooper in the " Reliquary," we find many Roman 
Catholic works of devotion, which were found hidden under a 
pile of wood. A handsome clock was appropriated by the Queen, 
who seized on all his estates, except those which were settled, 
and conferred them upon Sir Walter Raleigh. Of Dethick, the 
former seat of Babington, nothing at present remains : " all is 
open field," but we find the name of the family still lingering 
in "Babington lane " at Derby. 

The history of another of the conspirators presents such touch- 
ing passages that we make a few extracts from it. Chidiock 
Tichbourne (called Tushbourne in the indictment) seems to have 
been a young man of handsome fortune and singular promise. 
He had been unhappily seduced into the conspiracy from his 
friendship with Babington, no doubt hardly realizing to what 
extremities the matter would drift. I have already quoted an 
interesting extract from his address to the spectators while on 
the scaffold. I will close this short notice with the letter of 
Tichbourne to his wife, written the night before his execution, 
and the pathetic verses which he composed on his own most 
melancholy fate. They were published in the Heliquicc Wot- 
toniancB, but perhaps have obtained more ample notice from their 
introduction into Isaac Disraeli's Curiosities of Literature.' 

" A letter written by Chidiock Tichbourne the night before he 
suffered death, unto his wife, dated anno 158G. 

"To tlie most lovinj^ wife alive; I commend me untn her, and desire God to 
bless her with all happiness; let her pray for her dead husband, and be of good 
comforte, for I hope in Jesus Christ this moinino; to sec the face of my Maker 
and Redeemer in the most jnyfnl throne of his glorious kingdotne. Commend 
me to all my friends, and desire them to pray for me, and in all charitie to pardon 
me, if I have offended them. Commend me to my six sisteis, poore desolate 
sonles, advise them to serve God, for without him no goodness is to be expected : 
were it possible, my little sister Babb, the darling of my race, might be bred by 

1 Disraeli tells us that he discovered them amorifi the Harleian MSS. (Sfi, 50). His acco'int 
of the conspii'acy is pleasantly written. See Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii. p. 171, ed. 1859. 


lier, God would rowarde licr; but I do ber wronff I confosse, tbat batli bv my 
desolate negligence too little for herselfe, to add a further charge unto' her. 
Deere M'ife, forgive me that have by these means so much impoveiislicd her 
fortunes ; patience and pnrdon, good wife, I crave — make of these our necessities 
a virtue, and lay no further burthen on my neck than hath already been. There 
be certain debts that I owe, and because I knowe not the order of the lawe, 
piteous it hath taken from me all, forfeited by my course of offence to her 
majcstie. 1 cannot advise thee to benefit me herein, but if there fall out, where- 
withal, let them be discharged for God's sake. I M'ill not that you trouble 
yourselfe with the performance of these matters, my own heart, but make it 
knowne to my uncles, and desire them, for the honour of God, and ease of their 
souls, to take care of them as they may, and especially care of my sisters bring- 
ing up; the burden is now laid on them. Now, sweefcheek, what is left to 
bestow on thee, a small joynture, a small recompense for thy deservinge, these 
legacies following to be thine owne. God of his infinite goodness give thee grace 
alwaics to reniiiin his true and faithful servant, that through the merits of bis 
bitter and blessed passion thou maist become in good time of his kingdom with 
all the blessed women in heaven. May the Holy Ghost comfort thee with all 
necessaries for the wealth of thy soul in the world to come, where, until it shall 
please Almighty God I meete thee, farewell lovinge wife, farewell the dearest 
to me on all the earth, farewell ! 

" By the hand from the heart of thy most faithful lovinge husband, 

"Chideock Tichebourne." 

" Verses 
IMade by Cliidiock Ticlieborne of himself in the Tower, the night 
before he suffered death, who was executed in Lincohi's Inn 
Fieklls for treason, 1586. 

" My prime of youth is but a frost of cares, 
My least of joy is but a dish of pain, 
]My crop of corn is but a field of tares, 
And all my goods is but vain hope of gain : 
The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun ; 
And now I live, and now my life is done ! 

" My spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung ; 
The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green ; 
My youth is past, and yet I am but young ; 
I saw the world, and yet I was not seen : 
My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun ; 
And now I live, and now my life is done ! 

" I sought for death, and found it in the wombe ; 
I lookt for life, and yet it was a shade ; 
I trode the ground, and knew it was my tomb ; 
And now I die, and now I am but made : 
The glass is full, and yet my glass is run ; 
And now I live, and now my life is done ! "^ 

1 Many MSS. exist of this interesting and undoubtedly genuine composition, and besides 
being printed in the RcliquicB Wottoniani^ and by Disraeli, it also appears in Ritson's 
BibUographia Poetica, page 361. Dr. Hannah, in his "Courtly Poets," 1870, has given us 
a reply from a MS. in the possession of Mr J. P. Collier, beginning, "Thy flower of youth 
is with a north wind blasted" — a piece of no value whatsoever. 


The poem of Williams, pp. 9-22, it must be confessed, is not 
of any great poetical merit. It has, however, tlie freshness of a 
contemporaneous production, and adds a few facts to our know- 
ledge of Babington's early life. Thus tliere is something very 
quaint about little Anthony nearly getting hanged with the chain 
of the good "Foliambe" (p. 11). Williams is evidently disposed 
to consider it prophetic of his subsequent fate. 

" But [I] was not suffred there longc to hange, 
but was nere strangled or I was taken downe." 

His gay roystering life in London has been already mentioned, 
and is duly commented on in the ballad, perhaps with pious 
exaggeration. If, however, these young gallants frequented the 
'■ Curtayne," they were sometimes to be seen at Paul's Cross 
(p. 13) : 

" Yett to the sermons wee woulde often resorte," 

although Williams adds that they only went there in ridicule of 

The circumstances of the arrest of Babington are very minutely 
narrated in verses 39, 40 : we see him walking about, accom- 
panied by his serving-man, in the guise of an ostler. One of 
the watch — a weaver by trade — is on the look-out for hiui, and 
is not to be put off by the affected nonchalance of Anthony : 

""NVc walked throughe the pastures as men without feare." 

The ballad represents him as lamenting that he should have 
drawn his poor friend Tichborne into the conspiracy (p. 21) : 

" But 0, Tuchborne, Tuchborne ! thou makcst me full woe ! 
For 1 was the firste tliat allurde thee to the same, 
Tliie witts beinge yonge, likewaye I did frame ; 
Thou beinge well Inclinde, throughe me didst consents 
To conceale the thinge that made vs all repente." 

Williams's poem has been previously printed in the Beliquarij. 

An interesting ballad on the subject of Babington's Conspiracy 
is published by Mr. Payne Collier in his Book of Rosburghe 


Ballads (1847), by Thomas Nelson, from wliicli we extract tlio 

following lines : — 

" This proude and hauglitie Babiugton, in hope to gaine rcnowno, 
Did stirre up many wilful! men, in many a shire and towne, 
To ayde him in this devilish act, and for to take in hand 
The spoyle of our renowraeil Prince, and people of this land, 
"Who did conclude with bloudie blade a slaughter to commit 
Upon her Counsell, as they should within Star Chamber sit. 
Which is a place whereas the Lords, and those of that degree, 
Yeelde justice unto every man that crave it on his knee." 

Compare also — 

"And Eabington, that cursed wretch, what did bewitch thy minde ? 
That to thy Prince and country deere thou shouldst be so vnkinde ? 
Thou hopedst (belike) for better hap than euer traitor had. 
But now thou hast thy due desert, which maks our harts ful glad." 

— "A Dutiful Invective Against the moste heynous Treasons of 
Ballard and Babington : with other their adherents, latelie exe- 
cuted. G. W. Kempe, 1587." 

Mr. Cooper also cites a ballad by Thomas Deloney, edited by 
J\rr. J. P. Collier, for the Percy Society, in 1840 (Old Ballads, 
p. 104). 

The lines on Babington are : 

/'2^ext Babington, that caitiffe vildc, 
Was hanged for his hier ; 
His carcase likewise quartered. 
And hart cast in the fire." 

And of those executed on the 21st, he makes Donne and Jones 

both complain of Babington. 

" The first of them was Salsburie, 
And next to him was Dun, 
Who did complaine most earnestly 
Of proud yong Babington. 

" Both Lords and Knights of hye renowne 
lie mcnt for to displace. 
And likewise all the towers and townes 
And cities for to raze : 

" So likewise Zones did much complaine 
Of his detested pride, 
And shewed how lewdly he did live 
Before the time he died." 


Kicliard Jones had been licensed on tlie 27tli August to print 
a Ballad authorized by the Archbishop of Canterbury, "beinge 
a joyfull songe made by a citizen of London in the behalfe of 
all Her Ma"®^ subjectes touchinge the loj'e for the taking of the 
Tray tors." — Eegisters of the Stationers' Company, vol. ii. p. 214, 
but no copy is known to be extant. 

The Gunpowder Plot. 

It is well known that the Eoman Catholics, who had undergone 
many cruel persecutions during the reign of Elizabeth, looked 
forward with hoi)e to her successor ; but James, underneath his 
preposterous pedantry and coarse buffooneries, concealed no little 
astuteness and all the mendacity of a true Stuart. Before his 
accession Percy, who afterwards figured in the Gunpowder Plot, 
was sent by the English Catholics to ascertain what kind of 
treatment he proposed to extend to them, and received assurances 
from James that he would tolerate the JMass, "albeit in a corner." 
Hopes also had been built on the fact that the mother of the new 
sovereign had been so conspicuous in her adherence to the old 

All these expectations were, however, doomed to be dashed to 
the ground. The inclinations of the new King were clearly 
shown in his treatment of a Mr. Pound, of Cheshire, who, having 
ventured to petition against the persecutions to which his co- 
religionists were subjected, was summoned before the Star 
Chamber, imprisoned in the Fleet, and fined £1000. A statute 
was also passed in IGO-i, requiring Jesuits and Seminary priests 
to quit the realm by a certain day. 

The persecutions undergone by Sir Thomas Tresham, the father 
of Francis Tresham, one of the conspirators, will be mentioned 

* Throughout this notice I have made considerable use of the interesting facts 
accumulated by Mr. Jardine in the account given in his Criminal Trials. 


afterwards. Eilwanl Rookwood, cousin of Ambrose, also impli- 
cated, of Euston Hall, in Suffolk, was committed to prison for 
" obstinate papistrj^" and after being reduced to beggary died in 
gaol. In the parish register of St. James, at Bury St. Edmunds, 
we have the following curt and melancholy entrj' : " Mr. Kook- 
wood, from the jail, buried June 4th, 1598." The troops of 
menial lords and parasitic beggars which had accompanied James 
from Scotland were deeply interested in discovering any offend- 
ing Romanists, and acquiring their forfeited estates. 

Finding, therefore, their condition rapidly becoming worse, the 
recusants, as they were called, formed the desperate plot which 
has become so famous in English history, but is not without its 
parallel in the annals of other countries, instances having oc- 
curred at Stockholm, Liibeck, and Antwerp.^ The original 
conspirators — seven in number — were all, as Fawkes said subse- 
quently, "gentlemen of name and blood; and not any were 
employed in or about this action (no, not so much as in digging 
and in mining) that was not a gentleman." The chief contriver 
was Catesby, a man of ancient family long settled at Ashby St. 
Ledgers, in Northamptonshire, and a descendant of the favourite 
of Richard III., who fell with his master at Bosworth. There 
in the quiet village church may be seen the graves and monu- 
mental brasses of many of the Catesbys, but not of him who 
was destined to throw so dark a shade over the family name for 
all time. The old seat — or what remains of it — has long since 
passed into the hands of strangers ; but the villagers still affect 
to show the room in which the conspiracy is alleged to have 
been concocted, grey with age and haunted with the traditions 
of a crime whicb has taken so deep a hold of the popular mind.^ 

1 It is probable also that the fate of Darnley may have given them a suggestion. 

"^ A history of the Catesby family will be found in Baker's "^Northamptonshire" 
— a very valuable work of its kind. He traces them back to Handle, Earl of 
Chester, temp. Henry I. and Stephen. The manor of Ashby St. Ledgers passed 
by marriiige to John Catesby, of Ladbrook, in Warwickshire, in 1374, and his 
descendant was the Sir William Catesby of Richard the Third's time— the "cat" 
of the doggrel verse, which cost its fabricator his head. His brass may be seen 



Catesby gained over Winter, a gentleman of Worcestersbire, ■wlio 
had been long a soldier in tlie Low Countries, and Winter 
initiated Fawkes, son of Edward Fawkes, a notary of York. 
This tremendous fanatic, who has long become the conventional 
stage-ruffian of the wliole piece, seems to have been born a 
Protestant; but his father died in 1578, when he was j^et a child, 
leaving a large famil}'-, and his mother, Edith Fawkes, after a 
widowhood of three years, married one Denis Baynbridge, 
a Papist, embracing his religion, in which she also caused her 
children to be educated. Thus young Guy grew up a confirmed 
Eoman Catholic. Inheriting but a small property from his 
father, he soon dissipated it, and turned his attention to the great 
struggle then going on between Spain and the rcA^olted Nether- 
lands. As a soldier of fortune, he took service under the Arch- 
duke Albert, and, among other achievements, was present at the 
taking of Calais by the Archduke in lo98. He is described 
by Father Greenway as a man of great piety, of exemplary 
temi^erance, of mild and cheerful demeanour, an enemy of broils 
and disputes, a faithful friend, and remarkable for his scrupulous 
observance of all religious duties. He also seems to have been 
very popular among his co-religionists, for we are told by the 
same authority that his company was much sought by all those 
in the Archduke's camp who were most distinguished for nobility 
and virtue. The desperate fanaticism of the man may be plainly 
seen in his invariably choosing the most perilous posts, and the 

in Ashby Church. His son, George Catesby, in 1425, obtained a reversal of his 
father's attainder and the restitution of his lands. Sir William Catesby, a great- 
grandson of this George, was on the loth Nov. 1581, cited before the Court of 
Star Chamber, with Lord Vaux, of Harrowden, and Sir Thomas Tresham, as 
elsewhere mentioned. Among the Ilarleian MSS. is a detailed account of this 
trial, supposed to be drawn up by Sir Thomas Tresham himself. Robert Catesby, 
son of Sir William, was the projector of the Gunpowder Plot. I have twice 
visited this interesting place, under the guidance of a lady fully aware of the 
glories of her native county, both historical and intellectual — of IVaseby, Ashby, 
Eushton, Fotheringay, and other localities, — and last, but by no means least, of 
"glorious John," whose name seems to close the roll of Northampton celebrities 
as with a diapason. 


almost ferocious hatred he exhibited to Protestantism. When 
dragged, smeared with powder and coal-dust, into the presence 
of James, his manner was unabashed and insolent. "He is no 
more dismayed," wrote Cecil, " than if he were taken for a 
poor robbery on the highway." His answer to the King is 
too well known to need quoting here. The latter, with his own 
hand, carefully traced out the gradual degrees of torture to 
which he was to be subjected, as he had done in the case of the 
unfortunate Scotch quack, Cunningham.^ We can picture to our- 
selves how efficacious the royal recipe must have been, by the 
feeble disjointed signature of the miserable patient. 

In a lonely field near St. Clement's Inn, Catesby first revealed 
under an oath of secresy his desperate plot. An additional 
oath was afterwards administered to all the consjjirators by a 
Jesuit missionary. Father Gerard, wlio was perhaps hardl}'- fully 
aware of what they purposed. They were soon afterwards joined 
by Winter's brother, the two Wrights, Sir Everard Digby, and 
others, and lastly by one Francis Tresham, the son of Sir Thomas 
Tresham, of an old Northamptonshire family at Eushton, who 
had been frequently in trouble for harbouring recusants, and had 
been cited on the loth of November, 1581, before the Star 
Chamber, with Lord Vaux, of Harrowden, for sheltering Jesuits 
in his house, and being present at the celebration of mass. 

The circumstances of their obtaining an unoccupied building 
next to the Parliament House : then subsequently finding that 
they could hire a cellar immediately under it : and the arrest of 
Fawkes in consequence of the mysterious letter which had been 
received by Lord Mounteagle : are all well-known matters of 
history. On the subject of this letter — of which Williams 
speaks (p. oO) — 

" One small letter liatlie barde this strife" 

1 " Ye maye thinke of this, for it is like to be the laboure of such a desperate 
fellow as this is ; if he will not other waves coufesse, the gentler tortours are to be 
first usid unto him, cl sic per gradus ad i»ia tendiiur ; and so God speede youre 
<roode workc. — James R.'' 


— there remains still great obscurity. The probability is that 
Tresham, of whose fidelity there had been doubts from the first, 
had long before revealed the conspiracy, which was allowed to 
proceed till it had become fairly ripened. The letter was then 
written, merely as a blind, and an opportunity was given the 
British Solomon of making an attitude out of his supposed 
sagacity. It is not a little curious that Lord Mounteagle 
himself was one of the persons accused of complicity by 
Winter in his examination before the Council, and in a State 
Paper still extant, his name can be read as that of a person 
implicated, although considerable pains have been taken to 
obliterate it. It had been arranged that Fawkes was to fire 
the mine, and as quickly as he could after the catastrophe 
embark on board a vessel for Flanders. Meanwhile Sir Everard 
Digby — a hot-headed young man of twenty-four, who had made 
lavish promises of money to assist the conspiracy — was to 
assemble a number of Eoman Catholic gentlemen at Dunchurch, 
as if to hunt on Dunsmoor Heath ; and as soon as intelligence 
arrived that King James and his ministers had been blown to 
the four winds, they were to send a party to seize the Princess 
Elizabeth. She was at once to be proclaimed Queen, with a 
regent during her minority, if the Prince of Wales or Duke of 
York, afterwards Charles I., did not fall into their clutches. 
Many attempts had been previously made by Tresham to induce 
Catesby to abandon the plot, and leave the country. The con- 
spirators soon discovered that the letter had been shown to the 
King, but still followed up their plans with the wildest impetu- 
osity, even though the cellar was visited as if by accident by the 
Lord Chamberlain and Lord Mounteagle. They saw Fawkes 
keeping guard, and a great store of coals and wood heaped up. 
Making a few casual remarks, and noting the ferocious appear- 
ance of the man whom they found in the vault, they afterwards 
retired. Fawkes was not without suspicions of this visit, but 
still clung to his perilous position, having, as he declared, made 
up his mind to blow the whole place up on the faintest signal 


of alarm. About midnight, however, on the eve of the 5th of 
November, Sir Thomas Knevett, a magistrate, with a party of 
soldiers, surrounded the vault. Fawkes was arrested instanta- 
neously, before he could execute his desperate plan. He was 
booted and dressed for a journey. A lantern was discovered 
in the corner, which is now preserved among the curiosities of 
the Bodleian Library. Everywhere were to be found the im- 
plements of combustion ; among others, thirty-six barrels of 
gunpowder in casks, concealed under billets of wood. The 
conspirator did not disguise his attempt. He only remarked 
cooll}^ to Sir Thomas, that if he had had a chance he would have 
blown him up together with all the premises. The discovery of 
the plot threw all the conspirators into the greatest consternation. 
Five of them, including Catesby himself, rode post haste to Asliby. 
Percy and John Wright even cast off their cloaks and threw them 
into the hedge, to increase their speed. As soon as the direct 
objects of the conspirators became known, many of the Eoman 
Catholic gentlemen deserted the cause. Being hotly pursued by 
the sherift' of Worcestershire and the posse comitatus of the county, 
the conspirators resolved to make a last stand at Holbeach. Here 
an engagement took place with the authorities. Thomas Winter 
was hit in the arm by a cross-bow, and disabled. Two more shots 
mortally wounded both the Wrights ; and Catesby and Percy, stand- 
ing back to back, were pierced by two bullets from one musket, 
belonging to John Streete, one of the sheriff's men, who in con- 
sequence had a pension given him. Catesby feebly crawled to 
one of the sacred images in the house, clasped it, and instantly 
expired. Percy died of his wounds on the following day. 

Sir Everard Digby was soon after overtaken near Dudley, and 
captured ; and Eobert Winter and Stephen Littleton were taken 
in concealment at Hagle}', after having endured many privations, 
being for some time hidden in a barley-mow. 

Tresham was not arrested till the 12th of Xovember. His 
connexion with the plot has always been a myster}^, which will 
never perhaps be satisfactorily cleared up. Any disagreeable 


revelations wliicli lie may have made were oifectually cliecked by 
the silence of the grave. He was found dead in the Tower on 
the 23rd of December. The account of his end is thus given 
by Sir William Waad, the Lieutenant, in a letter to the Earl of 
Salisbury : "He died this night, about two of the o'clock after 
midnight, with very great pain ; for though his spirits Avere 
much spent and his body dead, he lay above two hours in 
departing." There seems, however, some reason to doubt 
Avhether after all this unhappy man met with a violent end. It 
is certain that his wife and servant were constantly with him. 
It must, however, have been important to many that he especi- 
ally should be removed. 

I have already alluded to the tortures which Fawkes had under- 
gone by the direct recommendation of James himself, although 
there is very little doubt that the practice was a complete 
infringement of the law. It only remains to allude briefly to the 
fate of the prisoners. Some of the more fortunate had died 
sword in hand, fighting with the ferocity of madmen. Eight 
were doomed to perish under the knife of the executioner, with 
all the concomitant horrors which then rendered agonizing the 
punishment of treason. Sir Everard Digby, Kobert Winter, 
John Grant, and Thomas Bates — the latter only engaged in the 
conspiracy in a menial capacity — were executed on a scaffold 
erected at the western end of St. Paul's Churchyard. The un- 
happy Sir Everard met his fote with firmness, but the deadly 
pallor of his face did not escape the notice of the bystanders. 
At the conclusion of his trial he had told his judges that if he 
could carry their forgiveness with him to the gallows, he sliould 
be able to meet his terrible fate more cheerfully. On the follow- 
ing day, being Friday, Thomas Wintei-, Ambrose Eookwood, 
Robert Keyes, and Guy or Guide Fawkes, underwent the same 
fate on a scaffold over against the Parliament House. Nothing, 
however, could break the iron spirit of Fawkes. He was 
executed last of all — probably last l)y a refinement of cruelty'-, 
that he might, to use the Avords of the French Revolutionists, 


drink long of death. He was so weak with torture and illness 
that he could hardly walk up the steps of the scaffold. There 
he muttered a few words, crossed himself, and flung himself 
defiantly from the ladder.^ 

Thus ended this terrible conspiracy, which sent a thrill of 
horror throughout the whole country, and is thus alluded to in 
a quaint treatise published in 1606, entitled ''A comparative 
Discourse of the Bodies natural and politique." " The verie re- 
lating or mentioning thereof dawnteth my hart with horror, 
even shaking the verie pen in my hand, whilst I think what 
a shake, what a blast, or what a storme (as they termed it), they 
ment so suddenly to have raised for the blowing up, shivering 
into pieces, and Avhirliug about of those honourable, anointed 
and sacred bodies, which the Lord would not have to be so much. 
as touched."^ 

Oldcorne and Garnett, — the superior of the order of the Jesuits, 
then recently introduced into England, — who wei'e supposed 
to be deeply implicated in the conspiracy, were captured at 
Hendlip Hall, near Worcester, a quaint mansion, full of 

" Eicli windows that exclude the light, 
And passages that lead to nothing," 

— which, with its many nooks and secret chambers, seemed, it 
has been said, to have been constructed to harbour recusants. 
It required many days to discover their actual lurking place, as 

1 For an account of the conduct of Fawkes, see a pamphlet entitled, '' Gun- 
powder Plot ; Arraingement and Execution of the late Traytors, the 27th 
January last past." This exceedingly rare production is quoted in Notes and 
Queries, oth series, ii. p. 361 : "Last of all came the great Devil of all, Fawkes, 
alias Johnson, who should have put fire to the powder. His body being weak 
with tortui-e and sickness, he was scarce able to go up the ladder, but with much 
ado, by the help of the hangman, went high enough to break his neck with the 
fall : who made no long speech, but, after a sort, seeming to be sorry for his 
offence, asked a kind of forgiveness of the King and the State for his bloody 
intent, and with his crosses and idle ceremonies, made liis end upon the gallows 
and the block, to the great joy of the beholders, that the land was ended of so 
wicked a villany." 

* Quoted by Jardine, "Criminal Trials." 


they had been coucealed in a curious recess, the exterior of which 
was made to resemble part of a chimney. Here they had been 
fed for some time by means of soup and other liquids ad- 
ministered through a quill. Owen, the servant of Garnett, who 
was committed to prison with him, having already undergone 
the torture, and expecting forthwith to undergo it again, ripped 
himself up with a small dinner-knife allowed him for his meat. 

The character of Garnett has been drawn very severely by Mr, 
Hepworth Dixon in his amusing book, " Her Majesty's Tower." 
He accuses the Jesuits of drunkenness and loose living, but it 
appears difficult as we rake among these popular scandals to get 
at the exact truth. There is certainly no direct evidence on 
the point, nor are we sure of any safe inferences from the fact 
that, as a Jesuit, his life was " a daily lie," as the author terms 
it. He was brought before Goke, who exhibited the usual spectacle 
of fulsome adulation of James and childish pedantry. He again 
asserted that the King in the whole matter of the Gunpowder 
Plot had been directed by a miracle. " God put it into His 
Majesty's head to prorogue the Parliament ; and, further, to open 
and enlighten his understanding out of a mystical and dark letter, 
like an angel of God, to point to the cellar and command that 
it be searched ; so that it was discovered thus miraculously but 
even a few hours before the design should have been executed." 
The insufferable pedant then wound up with a series of puns, 
ingenious alliterations, and all the euphuistic arts of which he 
was so great a master. 

Nothing, however, could be proved against the prisoner, except 
that he had been guilty of misiDrision of treason, i.e. had not 
revealed the conspiracy when it had been communicated to him 
in confession. So brutally did Coke interrupt the unhappy man, 
that James, who was himself a witness of the trial, declared that 
the Jesuit had not had fair play. He was, however, found guilty ; 
but so ill-satisfied was the court with the evidence against him, 
that a trap was laid to draw from his own mouth some admissions 
which would be sufficient to condemn him. Garnett and Old- 


come were allowed to associate in prison; and a certain Forsett, 
and Lockerson, Lord Salisbury's secretary, were placed in ambush 
to hear their conversation. An account of this was published 
in a curious tract, called, "The Interlocution between Garnet and 
Hall, the Jesuit, in prison, overheard by two worthy Gentlemen 
that were in insidiis." ^ It was chiefly on the evidence of these 
spies that the unfortunate Jesuit was led to the scaifold. The 
1st of May had been originally fixed for his execution. "It 
was looked yesterday," says Sir D. Carleton, in a letter in the 
State Taper Office, dated 2nd of May, 1606, " that Garnet should 
have come a-maying to the gallows, which was set up for him 
in St. Paul's Churchyard on Wednesday, but upon better advice 
his execution is put off till to-morrow, for fear of disorder among 
prentices and others in a day of such misrule. The news of 
his death was sent to him upon Monday by Dr. Abbott, which 
he could hardly be persuaded to believe, having conceived great 
hope of grace by some good words and promises he said were 
made him, and by the Spanish ambassador's mediation, who 
he thought would have spoken to the King for him." On 
the 3rd of May, however, Garnett was drawn on a hurdle 
to the place of execution. By the express command of the 
King he remained hanging on the gallows till quite dead. 
Many miracles were reported to have occurred at his death. At 
Hendlip, where he was apprehended, an entirely new species 
of grass grew up, and was neither trodden by passengers nor 
nibbled by cattle. A spring of oil burst out on the place of 
his execution. An ear of straw, which had been put in a basket 
with the Jesuit's mangled and bleeding quarters, was found to 
have his likeness upon it, and became an object of Eoman 
Catholic veneration. 

The effect of the Gunpowder Plot upon the position of 
the recusants in England may be easily imagined. In the 
next Parliament that met (Jan. 21, 1606), an Act was passed 

Quoted by Jardine, " Criminal Trials." 


requiring them to take tlie sacrament once a year at least; 
tlieir absence from cliurcli was punishable hy heavy fines ; an 
oath of allegiance, renouncing the Pope's authority in the most 
offensive terms, was imposed ; persons harbouring recusants, or 
keeping servants who did not attend church, were to forfeit 
£10 per month. Another statute banished all recusants from 
court, and declared them incapable of holding any public office — 
of being executors, or guardians, or practising any of the liberal 

Such was the condition of the Eoman Catholics in the reign 
of James I., and in this state they remained till his successor, 
wanting money and afraid to call a parliament, was willing to 
allow them to compound for their recusancy. 

It remains for me in conclusion to say a few words about 
Williams's ballad. I am afraid it cannot be asserted either to 
possess much literary merit or to furnish us with any new and 
curious facts. In the true spirit of the age, with its puns and 
anagrams, he treats us to a variety of quibbles on the names of 
the conspirators. 

" Bates might in this poynte hauc bated an ace." (p. 46.) 
"Nexte, Catesbye : tliou didst playe the wilye catt." (p. 44.) 

Tie tells us that when Fawkes — or Guido Vaux, as he calls 
hina — was apprehended, many reliques were found upon him. 

" And when hee was tane, the rellicks wears founde, 
As a hayrie shurte, with other popishe trashe." (p. 49.) 

His loyalty is of an oppressive kind, and such as would satisfy 

the requirements of the most enthusiastic gold-stick. He laments 

that the "Lord's anointed" was so near being removed from the 

earth ; — 

" For greate is the maiestie of Eoiall kinges, 
that here vppon earthe gods vicegerents bee ! 
There lookes to trecherj'e are feaifnll stinges ; 
There eyes, like Argus, to beholde and see, 
even to there myndes that good subiects bee. 
From those that seke maiestie to betraye, 
Hee treason can fynde, and the same bcwrayc." (p. 5.5.) 


He also re-eclioes tlie tedious commonplaces about tlie discovery 
of the letter by the British Solomon. We must remember, however, 
that Williams, — a fact which Mr. Furnivall has also noticed, — in 
these grovelling adulations, was sinning in excellent company. 
There is something very choice about the following anecdote 
related in the Life of Waller: "That Parliament^ being some time 
after dissolved, on the day of its dissolution, he (Waller), out 
of curiosity or respect, went to see the King at dinner, witli 
whom were Dr. Andrews, Bishop of Winchester, and Dr. Xeal, 
Bishop of Durham, standing behind His Majesty's Chair. There 
happened something very extraordinary in the Conversation those 
Prelates had with the King, on which Mr. Waller did often 
reflect. His Majesty asked the Bishops, 'My Lords, cannot I 
take my subjects' money when I want it, without all this 
formality in Parliament ? ' The Bishop of Durham readily 
answered, ' God forbid, Sir, but you should, you are the breath 
of our nostrils.' Whereupon the King turned, and said to the 
Bishop of Winchester, ' Well, my Lord, what say you ? ' ' Sir,' 
replied the Bishop, ' I have no skill to judge of parliamentary 
cases.' The King answered, ' No Put-offs, my Lord, answer mo 
presently.' ' Then, Sir,' said he, ' I think it's lawful for you to 
take my Brother Neal's money, for he offers it.' " 

Williams had previously tried to force himself upon royal 
notice : "And one of them I Did presente to your famouse Sonne, 
Prince Henrie, when your maiestie was in your progresse in 
Nottingham- shere, at the Howse of one Sir John Bj^ron, a 
knight, that Dwelleth in tlie forrest of mansfilde. But I never 
harcle awje awnsioer of it." (p. 39.) This occurrence must have 
taken place either in 1612 or in 1614: — probably the former j'^ear. 
Nicholls, in his " Progi'esses, etc., of James the First" (vol. ii. 
pp. 460, 461) tells us, "On the 14th of August, [1612], the 
King left Eufford, but not Sherwood Forest. He took up his 
lodging at Sir John Byron's, Newstead Abbey, about ten miles 

» Tlie last rarliamont of Jamos I. See "Life of 'SVallcr," p. v. (ed. 1722). 


distant across the Forest, and for three days longer explored 
the haunts of Eobin Hood and his merry men all." This Sir 
John Byron — the ancestor of the poet, who has made the 
name for ever celebrated — entertained James in one of his 
progresses at Newstead Abbey. He had previously been 
knighted at Worksop, in 1603, when he met the King. At 
this time the mansion was celebrated for its splendour, 
and the park for its rural beauties ; but the latter was 
afterwards divided into farms, and the whole property had 
suffered great deterioration before it came into the hands of the 
noble poet. The estate, which originally belonged to some 
Black Canons, was granted at the Dissolution of the Abbeys to 
the Sir John Byron then living, who was the Lieutenant of 
Sherwood Forest. Since the poet's time it has changed hands 
more than once. It has formed the subject of one of the most 
delightful papers of Washington Irving.^ 

As regards Eichard Williams, the author of the first three poems, 
no information which can be relied upon seems forthcoming. 
The name, to begin with, is a very common one. There are no 
published productions by an author so styled in any catalogues 
of seventeenth century literature. In the preface to " The 
Complaynte of Anthonye Babington " he speaks of his "old 
eyes," and tells us that the pieces on Babington and the 
Gunpowder Plot were written just after the occurrence of these 
events. A writer in the Atlienceiim (May 22, 18G9) doubts 
these two last statements, and considers that the poem on Essex 
was written after the arrival of James I. in London. This 
opinion seems especially borne out bj?- the Slth and 55th verses : 

1 A good description of Sherwood Forest, printed by Major Rooke for private 
circulation, was copied in Harrod's "History of Mansfield," pp. 18 et seq. At 
the time of King James's visit it had been recently surveyed; and then con- 
tained, — arable land, 44,839 acres ; woods, 9,486 ; waste, 35,080 ; Clipstone 
Park, 1,583 ; Beskwood Park, 3,672 ; Bulwell Park, 326 ; Nottingham Park, 
129; total, 95,117 acres. 


"And daylie more his fame is raysde, 

Synce our kinge came to swaye this lande. 

Oure kinge dotlie countenance bis frends, 
Suche as in life tynie helde hym dere ; 
On them Eiche Honors daylie spends, 
for love to them and this greate peere ; 
His Sonne attendante on the prince, 
Which envyes spite maye well convynce." (pp. 34, 34.) 

lu tlie Calendar of State Papers for reigns of Elizabeth and 
James I. we find here and there a Eichard Williams, but no 
one that can be satisfactorily identified with our author. There 
is a man of the name who appears to have acted as a kind of 
general agent and steward to Lord Cobham ; but since that noble- 
man was one of the most inveterate enemies of Essex, it is 
hardly probable that a I'etainer would be found singing the 
praises of the ruined Earl. 

In 1624: (March 30) we find a grant to Eich, Williams of a 
lease of lands in the counties of York, Northumberland, Cumber- 
land, Huntingdon, and Cambridge, value £49 16s. lOd., at re- 
quest of Eobert May of the bedchamber, and in consideration of 
his faithful service. Perhaps this may be the man, and if so, it 
is probable that it is all we shall ever discover concerning him. 
At such a period of history men of humble station and poor 
ability followed the fate of the common herd of humanity : they 
*' died and made no sign." 

In 1627 (reign of Charles I.) a Eichard Williams is recorded 
as presenting a petition for increase of pay. Perhaps this may 
have been our author, grown grey in service about the Court. 


[Arundel MS. 418, leaf 1.] 

The booke to your Maiestie. 

Althoiighe I bee not clacld in golde, 
Nor withe a cover gorgeouse fyne, 
Perhaps in mee you maye beholde 
Thinges that to vertue doe Incline, 
Passinge some glittringe giftes that shyne. 

If mee to reade youle take the payne, 
Yowr grace — I hope — shall reape tJie gayne. 


This booke contaynes tliree severall sublects, as appeers 
in my peticion to yoi(r Roiall maiestie. 

[leaf 2.1 


Contayninge three severall subiects: — 

1. The firste, the fall and complaynte of Anthonie 
Babington, whoe, with, others, weave executed 
for liighe treason in the f elides nere lyncolns 
Inne, in the yeare of ouv lorde . . . .1586 

2. The seconde. contaynes the life and Deathe of 
Roberte, lorde Deverox, Earle of Essex, whoe 
was beheaded in the towre of london on ash- 
wensdaye mornynge, Aw?io 1601 

3. The laste, Intituled "acclamatio patrie," con- 
tayninge the horrib[l]e treason that weare pre- 
tended agaynste your Maiestie, to be donne on 
the parliament howse The seconde yeare of 
your Mmestis Raygne [1604] 

[leaf 3.] To the kinges moste Excellent Maiestie, 
wzth all other kmglie Titells and Dignities 
what soever, To wliome youv poore humble 
subiecte,Tlicharcle Williams, wisheth heal the, 
longe life, and Manye happie years to Eaygne 
over vs, to the glorye of god, and yowr ma- 
iesties comforte. 

My Dreade and Roiall Soveraygne, 

This Anthonie Babington was borne at a mansion 
howse of his fathers, called Dethicke, in the Countie 
of Darbye, in the parrishe of Crietche ; whose father 
was a man of good accompte, and lived well and 
orderlie in his contrie, kepte a good howse, and re- 
leived the poore ; But he was Inclined to papistrie, 
as the tymes then requyred; whoe had a brother 
that was a Doctor of Divinitie in Queue Maryes 
dayes, of whome some mention is made in this storye. 
This Anthonye the Sonne was a yonge man, [leaf 3, back.] 
well featured, and of good proportion in all the lynia- 
ments of his bodie ; of a moste pregnante fyne witt, 
and greate capacitie ; had a reatchinge head, and a 
moste prowde aspiringe mynde ; and by nature a 
papiste, where-in hee was borne and brought vpp ; 
where[as], if hee had bene trayned otherwise, he might 
haue proved a good member of the co??mion wealthe, 
where nowe hee became a reproche and scandall to 
the same. 

In whose course of life manye accidents hapned, 



even from his birthe to his deathe, as appeares in 
this his complaynte; wherein I haue followed the 
methode of a booke Intituled " the mirror of maies- 
tratesV' wherein everye man semes to complayne of 
his owne mysfortunes : humblie besechinge your 
royall maiestie to pardon all Defectes, aswell in my 
writinge as in the basenes of the verse. In the one, 
1 haue donne aswell as my learninge did serve me ; 
for the other, aswell as my olde eyes woulde permitt 
mee, whiche I beseche jouv roiall maiestie to cen- 
sure^ withe clemencye, and I will trulie praye to the 
almightie for the longe continuance of youre healthe 
and happie estate, bothe to gods glorye and your 
maiesties comforte, 

Your poore Distressed subiecte, 
Richarde Williams. 

1 A MjTTOvre for Magistratea. Wherein may be seen b j' example of other, 
■with howe greuous plages vices are punished : and howe frayle and vn- 
stable worldly prosperitie is founde, even of those whom Fortime seemeth 
most highly to fauour. Imprinted at London in Flete-strote nere to Saynct 
Dunstones Church by Thomas Marshe. 1559, 4to, 81 leaves, black letter. 
(Other editions in 1563, 1571, etc. etc.) — Hazlitt's Hand-Book. 

2 judge, criticize J not blame. 

Srije (STomplaptc of ^ntljonac Baliinstoit, P^^^^^l 

sometyme of lyncolnes Inne, Esquier, •wlioo^ with others, 
weare executed for highe treason In the fcildes ncre 
lyncolns Inne^ the xix"' of September, Anno . . 158G: 

A Dkeame or Induction. 

LatOj wearied withe my daylie toyle, 

to bedd my selfe I dreste. 
Whereas^ a slomber caught mee sone, 

yet coulde I take no reste ; 4 

But faUinge in a fearfull dreame, 

me thought there did appeare 
One cladd in roabes more white then snowc, 

whose face did shyne moste clere, 8 

Whose gorgeouse garments weare bedeckt 

withe moneths, dayes, and howres ; 
vppon his head hee Hkewise ware 

a crowne of fragrante flowres. 12 

Celestiall signes did hym attende, 

and compaste hym Hke case^ ; 
The mono and starrs attendante weare 

vppon his princelie grace. 16 

Whiche, when I veiwde with mortall eyes, 

I freighted was withe feare ; 
But hee, to comforte me, beganne, 

and spake as you shall heare : — 20 

" WiUiams ! shake of this sluggishe slepe ! 

prepare to followe mee ; 
ffor strange thinges I liaue to reveale, 

whiche I will showe to thee." 24 

" O soveraygne god, I thee bespeke, D^^f 4» bacL.] 

what god so ere thou bee, 
Whiche doest not daigne in deitio^ 

to showe tliie selfe to mee. 28 

" If symple I maye bee so bolde, 

of thee I fayne woulde knowe. 
What god thou arte, what sacred wight, 

to me declare and showe !" 32 

' Wherein. ' likewise. ^ MS. dictie. 

The Complaynte of Anthony e Bahington. 

" I morplieus liiglit, ruler of niglit, 

thus poetts of mee doe fayne : 
Arise/^ quothe liee, " and followe mee ! 

I bidd tliee once agayne. 36 

" Reiecte all care ; caste of all feare ; 

to ludd^s towne He thee bringe, 
That is renowned throughe the wordle^ ; 

there shalte thou vewe a thinge/^ 40 

Wherewith I rowsed vpp my selfe, 

and quicklie was I dreste ; 
And vncouthe wayes I followed hym^ 

and did but seldome reste. 44 

At lasts hee thus spake vnto mee, 

thatte" wearye shoulde appeare, 
" Thie lorneye drawes vnto an ende, 

wee shall anon bee there/' 48 

Thus as wee paste by dale and hill, 

appeares vnto oure vewe — 
Withe brave prospecte, — a cittie fayre, 

whose cituation well I knewe. 52 

So longe wee paste, till at the laste [leaf 5.] 

to a famose bridge wee came, 
Where olde Thameyse, with surges grcato 

still beateth on the same. 56 

It was aboute the ho'vvi'es of twelue, 

when chymes did swetelie ringe, 
And nature then due reste did yeilde 

to everye livinge thinge ; 60 

And all was hushte in quyett sorte, 

the Starrs did shyne moste clere, 
When on a sodden (as mee thought,) 

a voyce soundes in myne eare, 64 

Wlierewith I sore affrighted was, 

my bodye gan with feare to quake ; 
Morpheus than to comforte me began, 

and theise wordes in effecte hee spake : 68 

" Shake of all tymrose feare !" quothe hee, 

" amased so, whie doest thou stande ? 
ffor this cause haue I brought thee here, 

to take theise thinges in hande. 72 

1 world. 2 MS. thacte. 

The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington. 7 

Caste vpp thie head, lifte vpp tliyne eyes ! 

what doest thou there beholde ?" 
Where suche a spectakle I did vewe, 

as made my harte full cokle. 76 

There might I perceive manye mens heddes 

on toppes of poales to stande, 
Whiche did to suche parsons bclonge, 

as weare traytors to this lande. 80 

ffourtene of them above the reste [leaf 5, back.] 

in a higher degree weare j)laceste/ 
Whiche morpheus sayde weare hedds of those 

ther[e] executed laste. 84 

And one of them in highest degree 

Did stande in open vewe, 
Where sounded suche a harrishe" voice 

as did my feares renewe : 83 

" Good contrie man ! I doe thee praye, 

vouchsafe some paynes to take ; 
And thats the cause I haue sente for thee, 

my tragedie to make. 93 

" Thoughe thou symple and vnlearned bee, 

doe not refuse this payne ; 
Wishe Gentebnen all, by me take heede, 

so good will thou shalte gayne 96 

" of all suche as good subiects bee : 

for the reste, take thou no care ; 
But penne my tragedie in suche sorte 

as memory e shall to thee declare ; 100 

" And tell them, thoughe I weare no pere, 

I presumed with the beste ; 
Therefore as worthie to be harde 

as anye of the reste. lOi 

"lacke cade, and lacke strawe, they bothe 

haue tolde there ruthles tale ; 
Cardinall wolsoy and shores wife 

Haue rewde there bitter bale ; 108 

* Tiono-ance plast : see p. 30, 1. 188, note (^). * harsh. 

The Complayyite of Antkonye Babmgton. 

" And late, fayre rosamonde liatlie complaynde, [leaf 6.] 

that longe synce was forgott ; 
"VVTierefore, to presse amongst the presse, 

I truste twilbe my lott. 112 

" My worship full frends, they still doe live 

in credditt, love and fame : 
The worse my happe, I shoulde begynne 

my kynne or stocke to shame ! 116 

" But thou, my frende, pleade thou my cause ! 

at large, penne downe my case, 
That I to all example maye bee, 

that fall for wante of grace/' 120 

Whereto I fayne woulde haue replide, 

myne Ignorance to excuse, 
But moi'plieus wilde me scilence kepe, 

no talke hee wishte me vse. 124 

" Come on," quothe hee, " lett vs bee gone, 
the tyme for anye man dothe not staye." 

So in haste 1 wente, and home I came, 

I knowe not well whiche waye j 128 

But at the laste, when I wakened was, 

and sawe it was a dreame ; 
" god V quothe I, " no we comforte me ! 

what maye this nights^ worke meane V 132 

And sondrie cogitations in mased mynde [leaf 6, back.] 

did daylie mee moleste. 
And till I had sett downe the same, 

I never coulde take reste ; 136 

Whiche, thoughe it bee but rudelie donne ; 

yet take it in good parte, 
Whiche presente the same to yo?(r highnes vewe 

withe a frendlie willinge harte. 140 


* MS. mights. 

The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington. 

rieaf 7.] 


What will it avayle, on fortune to exclarae, 

when as due desarte is cheifest cause of all ? 
my selfe, and none but my selfe^ lustlie can I blame, 
That thus haue procured myne vntymelie fall, lit 

and turned haue my honnye swet vnto bitter gall, 
wherefore, good flfrende, take thie penne and write, 
and in mourufull verse my Tragedie recite. 147 


Longe might I haue lived a contented happie state, 

and haue borne a porte and countnance with the beste ; 
If fortune shoulde me checke, I coulde her mate ; 
Thus none, like me, more happie was and bleste, 151 

Till that discontente procured myne vnreste. 

And the pompe of pride so glared in myne eyen. 

That I reiected vertue moste Devyne. 154 


But firste, I will tell thee myne estate and name, 
and contrie soile where I was bredd and borne : 
Anthonie Babington I hight ; of a worthie howse I came. 
Till my mysdemeanors made me forlorne, 158 

givinge cause co my foes to laughe me to skorne, 

whoe haue stayned my state, and blemisht my name : 
In clymbinge by follie, [I] haue falne to my shame. 161 


At Dethwicke in daxbye-shere I was bothe borne and bredd, 

my father was an Esquier of good reputation, 
A good howse hee kepte, a vertuose life hee lodd ; 

my selfe, beinge a childe, was holde in estimation, 165 

Bat havinge gott the rayne, I changed my facion ; 

Then privathe I sought myne owne will and pleasure, 
livinge to my likinge, but never kepte a measure. IGS 

10 The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington. 


Doctor Babington, myne Earae^, did pronosticate [leaf 7, back.] 

that liarde was the happe whereto I was borne : 
Hee sayde, that ' pride my glorye shoulde abate, 
and destenye had decreede I shoulde bee forlorne ;' 172 

Whose wordes my father then helde in scorne. 

" trayne hym vpp well V myne vnkell did saye, 

" vnlesse^ hee repente the same another daye. 175 


" Give hym not, brother, his libertie in youthe, 
for then olde dayes hee never shall see ; 
Hee is my nephewe, the more is my rewthe 
to thincke of his happe and liarde destinye ! 179 

If skill beguyle me not, hanged hee shalbe/^ 
This was the foresight of my fathers brother, 
ffor whiche love of his hee was hated of my mother. i82 


I knowe not where^ hee spake by hassarde or skill, 

for suche Divinations I doe not co??imende ; 
yet his counsell was good, to flie future ill ; 
for whoe-so in vertue there dayes doe not spende, I86 

shalbe sure, with me, repente them in thende. 

The proofe of myne vnkells worde I founde to trewe, 
as by the sequell Hereafter you maye veiwe. 189 


Not longe after, my father resyned vpp his breathe, 

and lefte my wofuU mother with a greate charge, 
Whiche proved for vs all to tymelie* a deathe, 
ffor then, good gentel woman, her purse ranne at large, 193 
Havinge of debts and legacies greate somes to discharge. 
But in the state of widowhode not longe shee tarried, 
ffor with that good gentelman), Henrye foliambe she 
married. 196 

* A. Sax. (dm, an uncle. * lest. ^ -whether. * early. 

The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington. 11 


Wlioe loved vs all tenderlie as wee had bene liis owne, [leaf 8.] 

and was verje carefull of oure education ; 
Whose love to mee was diverse wayes shownc, 
and I of the same had daylie probation/ 200 

As by this maye appeare of whiehe I make narration : 
Withe his owne chayne of golde hee woulde me often 

Whiehe made me a prowde boye, to weare aboute my 
necke. 203 


As on a tyme this chayne aboute my necke I did weare, 

and goinge to an orcharde some aples to gett. 
Where clymbinge a highe tree, as one without feare, 
the boughe then brake whereon my foote I sett, 207 

and downwarde I slipt, but was caught in a nett ; 
In the tree I was hanged faste by the chayne ; 
So desyre of my pride was cause of my payne. 210 


But [I] was not suffred there longe to hange, 

but was nere strangled or I was taken downe, 
ffor there I strugled with suche a deadlie pange, 
my mother, shee freighted, and fell in a sowne," 214 

and greife made my father likewise to frowne ; 
But my revivinge there sorrowes over-caste ; 
Then they reioycste, sayinge my deatenye was paste. 217 


Thus carelesse a tyme with them I liude at pleasure, 

surfetted with selfwill and with fonde delite; 
I knewe no golden meane, nor never kepte a measure, 
but like a kyndlie^ beare gan tymelie to byte ; 221 

Even then I hai-borde envye, and sucked despite. 
And pride at that Instante tooke so depe a roote 
That humiilitie for ever was troden vnder foote. 224 

' proof. ^ swoon. ^ natural. 

1 2 The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington, 


In myne none-age I was wlien my fatlier dyde. [leafs, back.] 
pliillip draycott of paynslie, liee did me obtayne, 
Whoe had appoynted me his dougliter for my bryde^ 
and in whose howse a space I did remayae : 228 

There suckte I pleasure that proved to my payne, 
There was I misled in papistrie my soule to wounde, 
There was I corrupted^ made rotten and vnsounde. 231 


There, even there, a while I spente my youthfull tyme ; 

there was I lulled in securitie faste a-sleepe; 
The[r]e was I frollicke, there was I in my pryme. 
In lollitie then I laught, but never thought to weepe, 235 
my witts weare moste fyne, & conceits verye depe. 
But oh, payuslie, paynslie, I maye thee curse ! 
where nature made me ill, education made me worse ; 238 


ffor by nature I was withe papistrie infected, 

but might liaue bene restrayncd, had it pleased god. 
My father and myne Eame, they weare suspected ; 
theye lived wi'th there conscience, wherein I was odd, 212 
Therefore was beaten with a more sharper rodd. 
There conscience they kepte, & ruled it by reason, 
livinge like subiects, and still detested treason. 245 


My fatherinlawe still ledd me to what I was Inclynd[o], 

I meane, for my conscience, no farther hee woude deale; 
my mayntnance [was] sufficiant to contente my myndc, 
so that all this while I tasted nought but weale, 249 

but coulde not bee contente, w/ticli I muste nedes reveale ; 
my fyne head was desyrouse to studye the lawe, 
In attayninge whereof I proude^ my selfe a daw^. 252 


i\nd for that cause forthw/th I to london wente, [leaf 9.] 

where in lyncolns Inue a student I became, 

1 proved. ^ a foolish fellow. — JS'aics. 

The Complaynte of Anthony e Babvjffton. 13 

and there some parte of my flittinge tyrae I spente ; 
but to bee a good lawier, my mynde woulde not frame; 236 
I addicted was to pleasure, and given so to game ; 

But to the Theatre and Curtayne^ woulde often resortc, 
where I raett companyons fittinge my disporte. 259 


Companyons, quothe you ? I had companyons in deede, 

suche as in yoake with me weare well contente to drawe, 
lynched so in myscheife, wherein wee did exceede, 
wee cared not for order, nor paste^ of reasons lawe ; 2G3 
of god nor of good man wee stoode in litle awe ; 

wee paste the bounds of modestie,and lived without shame, 
wee spotted our conscience, and spoiled our good name. 266 


Wee carde not for the churche; that place we not frequented; 

the taverns weare better oure humors to fitt ; 
The companye of dayntie dames wee cheiflie Invented,^ 
withe whome in dalliance wee desyred ofte to sitt : 270 

Theise weare the fruytes of our yonge hedds and witt. 
Thus in lustie libertie I ledd a loose life, 
and thoughe I weare married^ I carde not for my wife. 273 


Yetfc to the sermons wee woulde often resorte, 
not in hope edification by them to obtayne. 
But rather to Teste, and make of them a sporte, 
whiche nowe I feele, to my sorrowe, greife, and payne : 277 
Theise bee the fruytes that sichophants doe gayne, 
Cheitlie when theye mocke and skorne gods worde, 
Disdayninge the servants and prophetts of the lorde. 280 

^ Curtain. A theatre which appears to have stood in Moorfields, and to 
have been celebrated for the performance of humorous and satirical pieces. 
See Collier's Annals of the Stage, iii. 268, and the quotations in Kat-cs. 

2 Pass, to care for or regard : ' As for these silken-coaten slaves, I pass not,' 
2 Hen. IV, iv. 2. 'Men do not passe for their sinnes, doe lightly regard 
them.' Latimer, Ser. Bed.- — Xares. 

3 Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent. Spencer, F. Q. i. iv. 15. 

And vowed never to returne againe. 
Till him alive or dead she did invent. 

Ibid. III. v. 10. — Nares. 

14 The Complaynte of Anthony e habington. 


Wt'th. Catliolicks still conversante I coveted to be, [leaf 9, back.] 

that weare alwayes in liope, and looked for a daye, 
Gapinge for a cliange w/ach. wee trusted to see. 
Ambition so stonge me, my selfe I coulde not staye, 284 
Whicbe makes mee siglies to sigke well-a-waye ; 

Then I had my will, and playde with pleasures ball, 
Then I was alofte, and feared not this fall. 287 


Yett so covertlie all this tyme I did my selfe behave, 

and so closelie wrought in subtell synons frame. 
What so ere I thought, my selfe I sought to save, 
livinge all this while without suspecte or blame ; 291 

and more to wynne me credditt, a courtier I became. 
Where the syrens songe so swetelie I did synge, 
I never was suspected to worke suche a thinge. 294. 


The nobles of the courte of me thought so well, 
that often to there tables they woulde me Invite, 
Where in gesture and talke I did the cowtmon sorte ex- 
Thereby wynninge favor in my companye to delite ; 208 
Whiche with a ludas kisse I sought to requyte. 
As in sequell of my storye shall after appeare, 
Whiche I shame to tell, it toucheth me so nere. 301 


And daylie more and more my credditt did increase, 

and so in like manner did pride still abounde ; 
Beloved I was bothe of more and lesse. 
when my Inwarde motions weare all vnsounde, 303 

my parsonage was comelie which favor cache where foundc j 
But pryde had so blynded me, I could not see 
That with Icarus alofte I mynded was to flee. sos 

The Complaynte of Anthony e Babingion. 15 


Tlie grounde that I troadc on,myfeete couldenot holde, [leaf 10.] 

nor I bee contente in a liappie state to reste^ 
lyke Bayarde that blushed not, then was I more boldo 
when Rancor Inwardlie still boyled in my breste, 312 

That like an vnnaturall birde I filed my neste. 

In parlinge w?'th parasites that looked for a daye ; 

By the counsell of Caterpillers I wrought my decaye. 315 


Then I beganne to prie in-to matters of the state ; 

and with what I liked not, I secrett faulte did fynde ; 
"WTiere I fawned openlie, I inwardlie did hate, 
and to my confederates woulde closelie breake my mynde, 319 
I meane, to suche as to my lore weare Inclynde, 

Betwene whome and me suche myscheife wee Invented, 
That wee thought to haue made all Englande repented. 322 


Where-vppon in-to franca a lorney I did frame, 

to parle with padgett, Morgan, and others of that crewe. 
What wee had but decreede, they resolved on the same ; 
"Whose pretended purpose, at large when I knewe, 326 

I willinglie consented too, — w/a'ch makes me nowe to 
rewe, — 
and to sett the same forwarde, a sollem?ie oathe did 

o cursed conscience, that a traytor didst me make ! 329 


Then Into Englande I retornde agayne with spede, 

and gott conferrence hereof with some of greate fame. 
Manye weare the plotts whereon wee agreed, 
and greate the attempts whereat we did ame, 323 

which, afterwarde proved cure ruynose shame ; 
and aspiringe pride so fyred my harte, 
I was contente to playe a traytors parte. 336 

16 The Complaynte of Anthomje Babington. 

his artiekles of arraygnmente. [leaf 10, back.] 


Tee, to bee a moste savage monster agaynste all kynde, 

In sekinge the deathe of my Quene, the lords anoynted ; 
Ambition so stonge me, that I was starke blynde 
in pluckinge her downe that god had appoynted, 340 

and the vnitie of the realme in sender to haue ioynted, 
To haue made kings and rulers at o?tr owne pleasure, 
To haue exceeded in vyllanye without rule or measure. 343 


To haue made suche lawes as wee thought beste, 

to haue turned the state quyte vpsyde downe, 
The nobles to haue slayne, and clene dispossest, 
and on a strangers hedd haue placed the crowne : 347 

Herein wee weare resolute, but fortune did frowne : 

no ! twas god woulde not suffer oiiv villanyes take 

But vnlookte for, reveal de them, to ouv shamefuU dis- 
grace. 350 


ffarther, ouv Intente was to poyson the ordinance of the 
a moste haynovise matter as ever was Invented : 
Whoe ever hathe harde of trecheries so extreame, 
concluded, agreed vppon, and fullye consented ? 354 

an wofull matter, of all to bee lamented ! 

all courtrolls and records wee wente^ to haue raced, 
and them to haue burned, spoyled and defaced. 357 


The fayre cittie of london wee also mente to rifell, 

to haue robde the riche, and killed eke the poore ; — ■ 
Theise thinges in effecte wee counted but a trifell, — 
In all places of the lande [to] haue sett an vprore, 361 

The wealthie to haue bereaude bothe of life & store ; 
no state nor degi'ee wee never mente to spare ; 
But if hee woulde resyste, deathe shoulde bee his share. 364 

' weened, thought, 7iot went-in. 

The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington. 17 


Tbeise weare ouv intents, wi'tti mischeifs manye more, [leaf U.] 

even confusion to the whole realme to haue brought. 
Confederates wee had, and that no small store, 
Whiche ruyne and destruction weare redie to haue wrought; 
wee either mente to make or bringe all to nought ; 369 

nought! yee, nought in deede! for nought weare owr 

ffor desperate myndes doe fcare no after-clapps. 371 


So forwarde wee [we] are, that the verye daye was sett 
to murther our good Quene that god had preserved : 
Barnewell and savage shoulde haue donne the feate, 
but Justice rewarded them as they well desarved, 375 

beinge twoe monstrose traytors that from dutie swarved. 
The Daggs^ and all things weare redye preparde ; 
But in the nett they layde, they them selves weare snarde. 


And ballarde that beaste, hee into Euglande was come, 379 

a lesuite, a preeste, and a Semynarie vilde/ 
Hee brou'ght with hym ouv absolution from roome, 
promysinge good successe, — wherein he was beguylde, — 382 
So that from our hartes all pittie hee exilde ; 

and still hee incoraged vs in myscheifs to proceede, 
Egginge vs forwarde, wherein there was no neede. 383 


But god woulde not suffer vs so closelie to worke, 

but that all o?a' doyngs laye open in his sight, 
revealinge those myscheifs that in ouv hartes did lurke. 
when wee suspected not, hee brought the same to light ; 389 
Then muste wee hyde ouv hedds, or scape awaye by 
But when wee had Incklinge ouv treasons weare de- 

Awaye, awaye in haste ! twas then no tyme to byde. 392 

' Dag, a pistol. — Halliwell. ^ vile. 


18 The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington. 


Then watclie and warde was made in everye coaste, [leaf 11, back.] 

then weare wee taken eache howre of the daye j 
My selfe was once taken : but whie shoulde I boaste 
Howe that I made a scape^ and so gott awaye, 396 

not knowinge where to goe, nor haue perfitt staye ? 
But to harrowe-on-the-hill my selfe I convayde ; 
There in Bellamyes howse a litle tyme I stayde. 399 


But there was made for me suche previe watche & warde, 

and the contrie so besett, I no where coulde flie ; 
all hope of my escape was vtterlie debarde, 
and searche in eache corner was made so nye 403 

That I was compelde this polecye to trye, 
To forsake the howse^ and my selfe disguyse 
lyke an Inkeper of london, to bleare the peoples eyes. 406 


But a rewarde was promyste hym that coulde me take, 

whiche made the people looke so muche the nere^ ; 
And beinge constrayned the howse to forsake, 
[We] walked throughe the pastures as men without 

feare ; 
my man like an hostler was cladd in symple geare ; 411 

But this woulde not serve, if trutlie I shall tell, 
my favor I coulde not change, my face was knowne 
well. 413 


There was a poore man, a weaver, was one of the watche, 

by wliome the gate- laye as of force I muste walke ; 
Hee came to me boldlie, by the arnie did me catche, 
" Staye, good frende \" quothe hee, " with you I muste 
talke." 417 

my conscience beinge guyltie, my touge gan to balke : 
" wee are not those you looke for/^ I foltringlie did saye ; 
" ouv co?7imyssion,'' quothe hee, "is all passengers to 
staye.^' 420 

* nearer, closer. ^ road, way. 

The Complaynte of Antlionye Babington. 19 


Then the people gan flocke aboute me a-pace, [leaf 12.] 

and before the master of the rolls I forthwith was brought. 

when I came there^ I was knowne by my face 

To bee the same man that theye so longe had sought, 424, 

and cheifest of the crewe that all the sturr had wrought. 

Sir Gilberte Gerrarde Examynde, and sente me to the 

and stronglie was I guardedwith a mightie greate powre, 



Then the londiners reioyced, and merrye did make 

with ringinge of bells, givinge god the prayse. 
All my olde com??ion frends did me clene forsake, 
That before had flattred me dyverse & sondrye wayes ; 431 
But favor, frendshipp, and faithe, by treason Decayes, 
as appears by me, whose fame, credditt, and renowne, 
my traytrose attempts had sone plucked downe. 434 


Then shortlie after to the kings benche wee weare brought, 

and a nomber of others, confederates like case. 
There to make awnswer to the deedes wee had wrought ; 
but then my glorye gan declyne a-pace ; 438 

yet with a countnauce I sett thereon a face ; 
where beinge arraygned, I guyltie was founde 
of highe treason agaynste my kinge and crowne. 441 


Barnewell and savage had confest the same before ; 

then bootelesse twas for vs anye poynte to denaye, — 
oiiv conscience beinge guiltie, it Irkte vs the more, — 
So that fourtene of vs weare condemned that daye. 445 

Wee carde not for deathe, wee stowtlie did saye ; 

owr Judgment was to be hangde, and quartred like 

of whiche wee made no accounnte ; deathe coulde vs not 
disgrace. 448 


20 The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington. 


And nowe tlie daye of ouv execution drewe nere, [leaf 12, back.] 

In wliiclie wee did playe ouv laste tragicke partes, 
wlien seven of vs on hurdells from the towre dra[w]ne 
Wliiche was no small corsive^ to o?(r lieavie Partes, 452 

yet a luste rewarde for our wicked desartes. 

The people flockte aboute vs with this heavye sounde, 
" God save the Qaene ! and all traytors confounde V 455 


In the feilds nere lyncolns Inne a stage was sett vpp, 
and a mightie higlie gallose was raysed on the same, 
Whiche was the verye Instrument, & ouv deadlie cuppe, 
of whiche to taste ouv selues wee muste frame ; 459 

and beastlie Ballarde, twas hee beganne the game, 

Whoe was hangde and quartred in all the peoples sight, 
and his head on a poale on the gallose sett vpright. 462 


Nexte muste I make redye to treade the same dance, 
whereto I preparde my seJfe as a man without feare : 
Thousands lamented I had so harde a chance, 
and for me there was shedd manye a salte teare. 466 

They lookte for confession, but weare never the nere ; 
SiT ffrancis knolls, with others, offerde with me to 

praye : 
"none but Catholicks prayers will proSitt," thus did I 
saye. 469 


Thus Died I stoutlie, and did not trulie repento 

my wicked life paste, and moste haynouse treason. 
If in a good cause my life had bene spente. 
To haue avoucht the same there had bene some reason ; 473 
But wickedlie I lived and dyed at that season : 

Havinge hanged a while, and my head cutt of in haste, 
on the right Hande of Ballards it was placest. 476 

The Complaynie of Anthony e Babington. 21 


[leaf 13.] 
Tlien Died Bar [n] well, Savage, and yonge Tusliborne also, 

witlie Tilnie and Abington, in order as they came. 
But o, Tucliborne, Tucliborne ! thou makest me full woe ! 
ffor I was the firste that allurde thee to the same, 480 

Thie witts beinge yonge, likewaye I did frame ; 

Thou beinge well Inclinde, throughe me didst consents 
To conceale the thinge that made vs all repente. 483 


The nexte daye dyed Salsburye, Henrye Dune, and lones, 
With lohn Travice of prescott, w/(?'ch is in lancashere; , 
So did lohn Charnocke, a traytor for the nonce. 
Roberte Gage of Croyden muste then on stage appeare, 487 
and lastlie Bellamye, our hoste, that made vs all the 
chore : 
Theise seven weare executed on saynte matheues daye. 
The twentithe of September there partes they did playe. 



Oure quarters weare boy led like the fleshe of swyne, 

and on the cittie gates in open vewe doe stande ; 
oure conceited hedds, that once wee thought so fyne, 
on london bridge bee spectakles to subiects of the lande, 494 
Warninge them to shunne to take like things in hande. 
Our soules in the censure of gods ludgments doe reste : 
This was the rewarde for the treasons wee profeste. 497 


Thus haue I tolde thee my tragedie at large, 

in ever^'e particular as the same was wrought ; 
reporte it to my contrie-men, I thee straytlie charge, 
to shune those things that my destruction brought ; 501 
ffor traytrose attempts at all tyme prove nought : 

Serche oilv Englishe Chronikels, & thou shalte fynde the 

That " whoe begyns in trecherie, hee endeth still in 
shame. ^04 

22 The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington, 


[leaf 13, back.] 
At my requeste, tterefore^ admonysTie then all men 

to spende well the tallente that god hathe them lente ; 
and hee that hathe but one^ lett hym not toyle for tenue, 
ffor one is to muche vnlesse it bee well spente, 508 

I meane by ambition, leaste hee to sone repente. 

To conclude, happie is the man, and threefolde bleste is 

That can bee contente to live with his degree. 511 

felix, quem^ faciunt aliena 
pericula cautum. 




Z\}c %ik anti Bratfj of ^s^tx. 

[Arundel MS. 418, leaf 11.] 

To oure Roiall kinges moste 
Excellento maiestie 

This booke — my gratiouse Soveraygne — of the life and 
deathe of my lorde of Essex, I did write presentlie vppon 
Lis deathe, and did bestowe the same on some of my honor- 
able and worshipfull frends, whoe thought well of the same. 
In regarde that I had written the truthe bothe of his life 
and manner of his deathe ; and nowe [I] liaue revived the 
same, and make presente of it to jour princelie maiestie, 
w/w'ch I beseche you accepte, as a poore pittance of my zeale 
and Dutie to jour highnes, and that it woulde please you to 
pardon all defectes of the same, wherein you bynde me for 
ever to praye for your Roiall maiestie longe to raynge 
over vs // 

yo?/r maiesties poore distressed 
Subiecte, "Richarde Williams 

24 The Life and Death of Essex. 

[leaf 15.] 

A lamentable Motion or mour[n]full remembrance for tlie 
Deatlie of Roberte Lorde Deverox, Late Earle of Essex, 
whoe was beheaded in the Towre of london on ashwensdaye 
mornynge in the yeare of oure lorde — IGOl — 

Englande ! thou haste cause to complayne, 

to thincke vppon hym that is gone, 
Whose face thou nere shalte see agayne, ^ 

Whiche is the cause of this thie mono, 
Doughtie Deverox, that famose Earle, 
That lewell rare, that princes pearle. 6 


And is hee gone, and gone in-deede ? 
a corsive^ greate, a gallinge greife. 
The whiche makes raanye a liarte to bleede ; 9 

but all in vayne, without releife. 

To thincke this worthie peere shoulde die. 
Whose harte was fraught with pietie. 12 


Thoughe hee bee gone, hees not forgott ; 

nor will not bee this manye a yeare, 
Thoughe sorrowe fall vnto oure lott 15 

for losse of this moste gallante peere. 
Essex ! Essex ! (manye doe saye,) 
By envies spite was made awaye : 18 


Whose vertues, If I coulde recounte, [leaf 15, back.] 

on whiche to thincke dothe passe my skill, 
Leaste JMuses of parnassus mounte 21 

Herein shoulde guyde my symple quill : 
But tushe ! I can them not rehearse 
In suche base stile and symple verse. 24 

' corrosive. 

The Life and Death of Essex. 25 


Yet will I doe the beste I can : 

His frends will take it in good parte, 
Tlioughe I Decipher not the man 27 

accordinge to his highe desarte, 

whose vertues aymde at higher things 

Then pan can pipe on oaten strings. 30 


ffirste, for his birthe and highe discente, 
tis knowne hee came of noble blood ; 
Trewe Honor was his whole intente, 83 

To Doe his Quene and contrie good ; 
But cheiflie, gods truthe to mayntayne, 
ffor whiche hee sparde no toyle nor payne. 36 


Lett his greatest enemyes saye, 

what toyle it was hee did forsake, 
If maiestie wilde, hee then strayght-waye 39 

moste willinglie woulde vndertake ; 
Earle Essex was ever preste 
To see his contries wrongs redreste. 42 


That Portingale can witnesse well, C'eaf 16.] 

and Don anthonie, then there kinge ; 
Where haughtie valor did excell, 45 

That man in his estate to bringe. 

At lisborne gates this challenged hee, 

" The prowdest within, come forthe to me V 48 


But when hee sawe it was [in] vayne. 
He stucke his Dagger on the gate. 
Whereon hee honge his golden chayne, 51 

as skornynge there the prowdest made : 
" This shalbe^ token that I bringe 
To you jouv trewe anoynted kinge." 54 

» MS shaUe. 


26 The Life and Death of Essex. 

Seinge liee coulde not there prevayle, 

withe Honor [he] marched thence awaye. 
The spanyards pride hee ofte did quayle, 57 

and wrought there ruyne night and daye, 
And so came home wz'th threefolde fame ; 
Then Honored was brave Essex name. 60 


Then Into ffrance this lorde was sente, 

And Walter Deverox, his brother dere ; 
Ten thousande men with hym there wente 63 

Taccompanye this gallante peere. 

At Gurnaye hee greate fame did wyune ; 
That towne by valor hee tooke iu.^ 


To-wardes brave [Rouen] then marched hee, [leaf in. 

His brother leadinge his brave trayne, back.j 

Whoe was shott by the enemye 69 

So cruellye, that hee there was slayne ; 

whoe, to revenge his brothers deathe, 

vowed there to spende his latest breathe. 72 


The frenche kinge Did his furye staye, 

whoe With greate multitudes came there ; 
But withe Honor Hee marcht awaye, 75 

ffor hee there forches did not feare. 
Then Deverox in esteme was heilde, 
whoe gott renowne in Towne and feilde. 78 


But nexte Cales coi7imeth to my mynde, 

where, in despight of Spannyshe pride, 
A goodlie Towne hee there did fynde, 81 

well Rampyrde, mande, aud fortified : 
His foes agaynste hym there did stande 
moste strouglie, bothe by sea and lande. 84 

' took, captured. 

The Life and Death of Essex. 27 


But brave Honor did tliere prevayle, 

and valor loyned to tlie same ; 
when foes did freslilie liym assayle, 87 

" Saynt George and Essex -." at which name 
It loyed so eaclie Englislie Harte, 
The spanyards felte bothe woe and smarte. 90 


And so that Towne hee bravelie entred, [leaf 17.] 

Sir lohn Wingfilde beinge nere hym, 
That withe brave Essex boldlie ventred, 93 

and as a faithful! frc[n]de did chere hym ; 
But cruell Deathe, w?th deadlie darte, 
Then strooke^ this gallante to the harte. 96 


ffor nexte before hym hee was slayne 

withe shott that came from of the wall ; 
whiche was to hym a threefolde payne, 99 

to see his frende so nere hym fall ; 

But gi'eefe coulde doe his frende no good ; 
withe furye hee revengde his blood, 102 


And in despite hee wanne the towne 

of all that semde hym to resiste. 
Then firste, good lawes hee did sett downe, 10^ 

His souldiers furye so Dismyste, 
and charged them vppon there lives 
not to deflowre maydes nor wives. 108 


A leiftenant brake his cojumaudc, 
whoe deflowred there a mayde ; 
But hee was hanged out of hande, HI 

to make the reste by hym affrayde ; 

Three howres on markett crosse honge hee. 
That all his Justice there might see. H* 

' MS. strootc. 

28 The Life and Death of Essex. 


Greate mercye hee did likewise sliowe. Deaf 17, bact.] 

rot loyinge in sheeding-e guyltlesse blood, 
nor Tryvmpht in the yeildinge foe, 1^7 

nor suclie as at his mercye stood : 

Whiche clemencye his foes did prayse 

To his greate fame, even sondrye wayes. 120 


His warrs by seas weare of like force : 

The spannyshe shipps weare stronglie mande, 
where was made manye a lowlie corse 123 

That stoutlie at defence did stande ; 

But ouv shipps fought with suche greate yre. 
That twoe of them they sett on fyer, 126 


And twoe of them they brought awaye 

Home Into Englande for a price ; 
liansackte the towne ; then woulde not staye, 129 
But marcht from thence with good advice. 
Then Essex name was in accounte : 
whoe but Deverox did then surmounte ? 132 


Yet er hee wente from thence awaye. 

The Spanyards for the Towne agreede. 
And certen somes to hym did paye ; 135 

So then they marcht awaye with speede, 
And paste the seas, with sayles on hie. 
As men resolude^ to fight, not flie. 138 


To the Hands Hee marched then, [leaf 18.] 

where of treasure hee gott good store, 
withe all oure gallante Englishmen; 141 

all had Inoughe, what woulde you more ? 
yet more they had gotten that daye. 
But that ill lucke did crosse there waye. 144^ 

' resolved. 

The Life and Death of Essex. 29 


Then came hee Lome with honored fame ; 

then was hee loude^ of prince and peere ; 
Admyred then was Essex name, 147 

and as there lives they helde hym dere. 
Yet envie might repyne as then, 

. That alwayes lurckes in enviose men, 150 


Then Generall hee was elected, 

In Irlande for to beare the swaye, — 
A Trayne^ whiche hee not suspected, 153 

To worke his ruyne and decay e ; 

Greate promyses to hym weare made. 

But in performance they did fade, — 156 


And gallantlie hym selfe preparde 

with a moste brave and warlike trayne, 
(no coste to furnishe hym was sparde ;) 159 

whoe might hym serve, was gladd & fayne, 
moste voluntaryes ; fewe weare preste 
That wente with hym, some of the beste. 162 


Hee there did spende bothe toyle and payne [leaf 18, 

to doe His Queue and contrie good ; back.j 

Hee Honor and good fame did gayne, 165 

the whiche did coste his derest blood ; 

flfor there a plott for hym was layde, 

Whiche withe his honored hedd hee payde. 168 


But treason was layde to his charge, 

and manye artikles obiected ; 
whoe rowed not so in follies barge, 171 

and thinges propounded not suspected; 
and suche at that tyme bare the swaye, 
as sought his ruyne and decaye ; 174 

' loved. - artifice, stratagem : Macb. iii. 4, Spencer, F. Q. i. iii. 24, — Nares. 

30 TJie Life and Death of Essex. 


And so hee was condem?ide to dye, 

tlie whiclie hee tooke in quiett parte, 
and to the lorde his god on hie 1'77 

Hee yeilded hym with all his harte. 

Deathe coulde not Daunte his noble mynde ; 
Vnto His Quene hee was moste kynde. 180 


And so hee ever did proteste 

Hee mente her maiestie no harnie ; 
no one thought in his harte did reste, . 183 

Thoughe synon^ subtellie did charme 
In secrett sorte his blood to spill : 
Hee was contente, they had there will. 186 


Yet niai[e]stie woulde hym discharge, [leaf 19.] 

and haue releaceste^ hym from his thrall ; 
But Eawe-bones layde on lies at large, 189 

and howrelie sought to see his fall ; 

whoe never stayde, till they gott synde^ 

His doome of deathe, to please there mynde. 192 


And then in all post haste withe speede 

Theye to the Towres leiftenna [n] t came, 
withe strickte co?3imande to doe the deede, 195 

as hee woulde awnswer to the same 
If hee made staye, or once delayde 
The prescript howre ; w/a'ch hee obayde. 198 


Yet greiude in mynde, hee loude* hym dere. 

But muste her highe co??i.mande fulfill, 
when this good man of this did heare, 201 

Hee sayde " good lorde, bleste be thie will ! 
I thancke my god and my good Quene 
That thus myndefuU of me haue bene. 204 

' Cecil or Cobham. 

^ VxononncQ relcast : compare disgraceste for dififjraced, 1. 331; and placeste 
ioi2)/aced, 1. 333, below; p. 7, 1. 82, above. ^ signed. * loved. 

The Life and Death of Essex. 31 


" To-morrowe morninge I sliall payo 

the debte tliat I doe owe her grace, 
my life to her I downe will laye 207 

moste willinglie, within this place ; 

Then my frends, that my Gardiants bee, 

Shall see my god moste stronge in mee.'^ 210 


That night in prayer hee did passe, [leaf 19, back.] 

moste ferventlie, vnto the lorde ; 
no feare of deathe his troble was ; 213 

His mynde was fixte on gods pure worde ; 
His care was cheife for his greate synne 
and loathed luste hee had liude in, 216 


And godlie men withe hym did praye, 

conlirmde his faithe on christe a-bove, 
Howe hee^ had washte his synns awaye, 219 

of his mere mercy e and greate love, 

nowe home from strayinge did hym call ; 

Hee on his shoulders woulde beare all. 222 


Moste of the night that waye hee spente, 

and ofte woulde comforte his dere frends 
That semed for hym to lamente : 

" wepe not for race ! men haue there ends, 
all that [be] borne, nedes muste dye ; 
To-morrowe mornynge so muste I. 228 


Ashwensdaye mornynge nowe was come j 

His deadlie foes as earlie there. 
And yet that loude [him] there weare some, 231 

That came to see with greife and feare. 
All thinges in haste prepared was. 
That this peere to his deathe might passe. 231 

' he who. 

32 The Life and Death of Essex. 


A place appoynted in the towre, P^af 20.] 

withe stage and blocke, and all things fitt. 
Made redye agaynste the verye howre, 237 

with seates for suche nobles to sitt 
That came to see hym loose his head, 
where manye brinishe teares weare spredd. 240 


Then came this peere w/th countnance mylde, 

as Lambe vnto his slaughter ledd : 
His foes, whiche pittie had exilde, 243 

£for verye shame helde downe there head, 
To thincke in mynde what they had donne, 
Thus to ekclipse bright Honors sonne. 246 


Then kneelinge downe, his prayer did make 

vnto his god in Heaven above ; 
all wordlie^ motions did forsake, 24.9 

forgave his enemyes with love, 

"■ Lorde, laye not this vnto their^ charge ! 

vay Deathe I haue deserude at large." 252 


His greatest wordlie care was this, 

Hee had some frends that loude hym well. 
That never knewe secrett of his, 255 

nor previe weare to his counsell, 
yet weare in treble for his sake ; 
But hoapte his Qnene woulde mer[c]ye take. 258 


The Headsman kneeled on his knee, [leaf 20, back.] 

and sayde, '' my lorde, forgive yowr deatho V 
" Withe all my harte I forgive thee ; 2G1 

Dispatche at once ! come, stoppe my breathe ! 
Thou, Justice mynister arte here ; 
Come, doe thie office, and haue no feare ! 264 

' worldly. ^ MS. my. 


The Life and Death of Essex. 33 


'' Come nowe/^ quothe hee, " whats to bee donne ? 

wee maye dispatclie the same wi\h. spede j 
my glasse on earthe (I see) is ronne, 267 

And lachesis will cutt the threede, 

whoe prepared hathe His sharpned knife 

To reave me of my vitall life." 270 


Then layde his bodye flatt alonge. 

His head likewise v]3pon the blocke ; 
But Headsman did threfolde wronge, 273 

whoe tooke at hyni three severall stroakes 
Er head from bodye wente a-waye ; 
yet as a lambe hee quyett laye. 276 


Thus this greate peere ended his life, 

and brought his soule to quyett reste, 
ffree from the cares of wordlie strife, 279 

whiche daylie did his mynde moleste ; 
And nowe w/th god in glorye dwells, 
whereas his ioye earthes ioye excells. 282 


As Hee wi'th god, a-bove dothe reste, [leaf2i.] 

Hee hathe lefte vs here to complayne ; 
cure hartes withe sorrowe are distreste, 285 

and comfortles wee still remayne 
ffor wante of hym that so is gone, 
whiche is the subiecte of ouv mone. 288 


The noble men, they wante a peere, 

withe them in counsell that did sitt j 
Captaynes, a leader they helde dere, 291 

a seconde sallomon for witt, 

a losias stronge, grave and wise, 

affable, kynde, but not precyse. 294 


34 The Life and Death of Essex, 

Souldiers doe there Generall wante, 

tliat still Avas wonte to see them payde 
Thoughe Captaynes woulde tlie same supplante, 297 
and they longe tyme shoulde bee delayde ; 
whichej when Essex of that did here, 
Hee turnde to ioye there mournfull chore. ^oo 


whoe cassirde^ suche as delte not well ? 

ffrom his bandes bannysht them awaye ? 
Wherein his Honor did excell ; 

Then souldiers trulie had there paye : 
Here was trewe fame wonne by desarte ; 
This showde the Honor of his harte, ^^^ 


Widowes doe wayle, and children crye, L^eaf 21, back.] 

and manj' e fatherlesse lamente ; 
Maydes at there distafes showe cause whie 309 

wee moved are withe discontente ; 

ffor there, in dolefull tunes theye singe, 
"Essex, Essex, did comforte bringe.'' 3i2 


The poore that begge at everye dore, 

In lieavie notes recorde his fame ; 
Hee alwayes loude the needye poore, 815 

and they admyrde good Essex name ; 
no whippinge stockes hee did Invente, 
Theye weare not made by his consente. 318 


And daylie more his fame is raysde, 

Synce o^^r kinge came to swaye this lande ; 
nowe is hee myste, nowe is hee praysde, 321 

Whiche ouv good kinge well vnderstands; 
His maiestie hym selfe is sadd. 
Whereat his foes are nothinge gladd. 324 

^ cashiered. 

The Life and Death of Essex. 35 


Oare kinge dotlie countenance his frends^ 

suclie as in life tyrae lielde hym dere ; 
on them Riche Honors daylie spends^ 327 

for love to them and this greate peere ; 
His Sonne attendante on the prince^ 
Whiche envyes spite maye well convynce. 330 


Whereas his foes, they are disgraceste,^ Peaf 22.] 

but lustlie, throughe there owne desarte ; 
In lymbo patrum some are placeste,^ 333 

whiche is a terror to there hartes ; 

yett this maye well putt them in mynde. 

To Essex they haue bene vukynde. 336 


God grante theye maye thincke of the same, 

and trewe teares of repentance bringe ; 
They nowe are scandalde w^th defame 339 

for treason agaynste oure good kinge. 
But if truthe bringe treason to light, 
God sende them there desartes by right. 342 


And suche measure as they haue mett^ 

To worthie Deverox, whiche wee mysse, 
Justice the like on them maye sett; 345 

Theye maye withe truthe acknowledge this, 
" That noble pere whiche wee betrayde. 
His blood on vs is lustlie layde.-" 348 


God sende all greate men to take heede, 
and withe there state to bee contente, 
leaste that ambition chance to breede 351 

Suche thoughts as maye make them repente 
To hassarde state and noble name, 
To bee Impeached withe defame. 354. 

' Cp. defaceste for defaced, p. 48, 1. 294, etc. 
2 Cp. p. 7, 1. 82. 3 meted. 

D 2 

The Life and Death of Essex. 


NoWe Essex was beloved well P^af 22, back.] 

of riclie and poore of eaclie degree; 
Hee loved was, as fame dotlie tell, 357 

of suche as never did liyni see. 

Tuslie ! that was hitt the cowimons love ! 

His Honors periode did prove. 360 


Oh that pure love shoulde turne to spite, 

or honye swete converte to gall ! 
Oh that trewe Honors cheife delite, 363 

By envye shoulde gett suche a fall ! 
Oh that tlieise wordos I doe rehearse, 
Might withe remorse there malice peirce ! 366 


Well ! hee is gone ! that is to trewe ! 

yet ins^ posteritie dothe live ; 
Twoe gallante Impes, that doe renewe 369 

the fame that Essex dothe vs give ; 
Twoe gallante sonnes of Deverox race, 
Whiche hardlie can broke" his disgrace. 372 


ffor nature gynnes to beare a swaye 
alredye in there youthfull pryme : 
To perfection come it maye, 375 

when leaste tis thought in after tyme, 
perhaps to bee revengde on those 
Haue bene there fathers greatest foes. 378 


I wishe it not : gods will bee donne ! Deaf 23.] 

But guyltlesse blood will vengance crave ; 
The father crye[s] vnto the Sonne 381 

from his Horried tymeles grave. 

Thus writers write, thus poetts fayne ; 

manye forgotten, a-newe complayne. 384 

' in his. ^ brook. 

The Life and Death of Essex, 37 


But farewell Essex, noble peere ! 

farewell, trewe Honor, that did sliyne ! 
Thie beames weare splendante, pure, and clcre, 387 
and tliou the prospecte of out tyme ! 

Thou throughe the pikes didst boldlie ronne ; 
Deserved fame haste trulie wonne. suo 


All that loves thee bidds thee farewell, 
flfrom Highest to the lowest degree ; 
But sure, thie fare dothe farr excell 393 

The greatest peeres on earthe that bee. 
Gods presence is thyne onelie foode. 
That bought thee with his derest blood. 39G 

vivit post funera virtus. 

finis. R. W. 



[ArundelMS. 418, leaf24.] 

^rclamatio ^atrte, 


Tlie comp [1] aynte of the good subiects of Englando for the 

myserie of these Tymes, 

Or the powder Treasons : 


a pulpitt for papistes^ and a trappe for Traytors. 

To our Roiall kinges moste excellente 

Moste dreade and gratiouse Soveraygne, this booke I did 
write presentlie vppon the Dangers paste of this horrible 
pretended^ treason ; andseyngeno other had written thereof, 
I did pretende" to haue put the same in printe, and had 
gotten it lycenced accordinge to order. But a printer asked 
me a some of moneye for the Impression, whiche I was not 
able to paye; and so I kepte it privatt, But that I presented 
[leaf 24, back.] Some of them to my Honorable and worshipfull 
frendes ; and one of them I Did presente to jour famouse 
Sonne, Prince Henrie, when jour maiestie was in jour pro- 
gresse in Nottingham -shore, at the Howse of one. Sir lohn 
Byron, a knight, that Dwelleth in the forrest of mansfilde. But 
I never harde anye awnswer of it ; and nowe haue thought it 
good to presente it jour Highnes, amongst the reste of my 
labors : not that the particulars are vnknone to yowr maiestie, 
but that thereby you maye see my love and dutifull zeale 
to you my kinge, and contrie. Moste humblie besechinge 
jour Highnes to pardon myne attempte, and to accepte of 
the same, whoe will and doe, Daylie praye to the almightie 
to kepe and defende you fi'om all traytrose attempts, and 
that you maye live manye yeares to rule and Raygne over 

Yo?(r maiesties poore Distressed 
Subiecte, Richai-de Williams. 
' intended. * intend. 

40 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons, 

Aclamatio patrie, or L^^^^ 25.] 

Tlie complaynte of the good subiects 

of Englande for the myseryes of theise 

Tymes ; 

Withe a trappe for Traytors, 

and a pulpitt for papistes. 

What cause haue al good subiects to complayne 

for OUT dere contrie^ spotted with defame, 
The whiche, trecherie dothe polute and stayne, 

and woulde ecklipse the glorie of the same, — ■* 

But, to there ruyne and endlesse shame, 
our roiall kinges maiestie to surprise, 
and ore his progenye woulde Tyranise, ^ 


Oh Englande, Englande ! a moste happie soile, 

that hathe bene the nurse of roiall kinges ! 
o vilde^ \nprose broode, that soke the spoile 

of your dere mother ! that with payne forthe brings n 
bothe wholesome flowers, and netles that stings ! 
vnnaturall children, and bastards broode, 
That woulde glutt your selfe with her dereste blood ! l* 


What did you Imagyn, when you began 

this dangerose attempte and moste wicked" treason, 
HatefuU to god, odiouse to man, 

wherein you had nor grace, nor reason ? 18 

all pittie bannysht, your fruytes that season, 
you that in an Instante woulde all destroye, 
abridginge all hope of our contries ioye. 21 


If his maiestie, Tyranouse had bynne, [leaf 25, back.] 

and had ruled with rigor this fertile lande, 
and that god had sente hym to plauge^ our synne, 

wee ought not his holie decrees withstande, 25 

nor agaynste his highnes once lifte owr hande. 
whie ? because hee is the lordes anoynted, 
over vs to Raygne, by hym appoynted. 28 

1 vile. * IMS. wicted. ^ plague. 

Acclamatio Patrice, or tlie Powder Treasons. 41 


But liee is mercyfull ; you knowe it well ! 

Hee makes good lawes, and dailie sekes for peace ! 
Reporte in eache contrie liis fame dothe tell, 

althoughe vntrustie traytors never ceasse 32 

To augmente his feares, and greives increase ; 
But hee, resolude, in god putteth truste, 
wlioe is a rocke and safegarde to the iuste. 35 


Doe what you can, not one lieare shall fall 
nor be dyminisht from his higlines head ! 
Thoughe you practise, frett, fume, splitt youv gall, 

yoMr attempts are vayne ! you sender but the thredd 39 
whiche destruction for your selues hathe bredd ! 
wee good subiectes loye at youv Illusion, 
To see yowr ruyne and sole confusion ! 42 


Consider what twas you woulde haue donne : 

the moste odiouse thinge that ever was Invented ! 
To ecklipse the glorye of En glands sunne, 

withe the devill and hell you had Indented,^ 46 

yo?/r owne damnation had consented ! 

The like nere harde synce the wordle began ! 
Murther, ruyne, and wracke of manye man ! 49 


you threwe at all, but haue loste yonr firste mayne : D^^f 26.] 

you aymde at fayrest kinge. Queue, prince, and all, 
and the whole nobillitie to haue slayne, 

The learned Bishopps to haue brought to thrall, ^3 

and of wise Burgeses haue wrought the fall ; 
To haue blowne them vpp without all pittie, 
Haue burnde the kings howse, and fyred the cittic ! 


Yee ! at an Instante this shoulde haue bene wrought, 

when they weare busied to make good lawes ! 
In whose trewe hartes no trechery was thought. 

But there contries good was the onelie cause, 60 

when you — worse then^ ravens or chatringe dawes — 
There vtter subvertion had devisde 
By treason, w/a'ch god hathe ever despisde, 63 

* Covenanted by an indenture or indented deed. ^ MS. tlien then. 

42 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons, 

Tjrranye, crueltie, and moste wicked hate, 

to Dinge^ them downe with myndes variable, 
of there soules as then not myndinge the state ; 

Some weake in faithe, in conscience not stable ! 67 

But that gods mercycs are ever able 

To save synfull soules at his good pleasure, 

you might haue robde them of heavens treasure. 70 


you respected neither bodie nor soule ! 

ambition kepes no ly)»mitts nor boundes : 
your aspiringe myndes had dared^ controule, 

yoitr conscience, spotted and full of woundes. '7'* 

like men not sicke, yet sodenlie swoundes. 
So you felte no greefe, yet sodenlie fell 
Without gods mercyes to the depest hell. 77 


What Had ensued if you had prevaylde ? [leaf 26, back.] 

woes, ruyne, and vtter confusion ! 
Gods liolie truthe by your means had quaylde, 

and poperye agayne had made Intrusion, 81 

and light darkned with your Illusion ! 
Then to puritanes and protestants woe ! 
There wives, children, and there lives, to forgoe ! 84 


A thousandes mysecheifes more had attended : 

all vyllanyes then had bene sett abroache ; 
Howe [could] Innocence, haue Rigor defended,^ 

when truthe to bee tryed durste not approche? 88 

But crueltie over hym woulde Incroche, 
Tyranisinge too, and laughe at his fall : 
The tyme nowe is come thou shalte paye for all ! 91 


Then, woe to the riche that had purste vp golde ! 

and woe to anye that had gotten treasure ! 
ffor then base Rascalls woulde haue bene bolde, 

Haue robde and trivmpht at there pleasure; — 95 

for vyllanye never kepes a measure ; — 

yee woe to all that did houestlie meane ! 97 

yer the harvest weare come, the slaves woulde glean [e] . 

' strike, smite. * P MS. ' warded off. 

Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 43 


Havocke they wouldo liaue cryed : 

" the tyme is nowe come, lets rifell for all ! 
of theise cormorants weele abate the pride, 

and of greasie churles weele splitt the gall ! 102 

Better theise lacke, then good fellowes fall : 
ffor what they haue gott by vnlawfull gayne. 
To spende for there sakes weele take the payne. 105 


" This is the daye wee haue longe looked for, [leaf 27.] 

and nowe tis come, weele sett cocke on hoope. 
Tushe ! feare not, hostice ! weele paye thee the score ! 
Be merrye, my wenche, doe no longer droope ! 109 

ffor this, manye a carle wee haue made to stooiDe.'^ 
Thus villanye woulde vaunte, more then I write, 
or my skilles^ penne is able to recyte. 112 


This, OUT generall ruyne woulde haue bone ! 

If treason had brought his purpose to passe, 
wee dolefuU dayes in Englande shoulde haue scne, 

withe moste greivose grones cryinge ' alas, 116 

That ere suche crueltie Invented was ! 

That wee lived to see these dolefull dayes, 

where wronge abuseth right so manye wayes !^ ii9 


But god in mercye did beholde ouv estate, 

and in his goodnes hathe looked vppon vs 
when wee weare cyrcumvented with deadlie hate, 

all hope of remorse had quyte forgon vs, 123 

and that destruction was nerest on vs. 
Confusion preste" with his bloodye hande 
To overthrowe the state of this ouv lande. 126 


Nowe particularlie He touche there names 

that thus had plotted oure generall fall, — 
I proteste to my greefe, but to there shames, — 

That mente to haue made havoke of all, 130 

and turnde oure honye to moste bitter gall, 

Infectinge the swete and moste pretiose springs 
ffrom whence came the nectar of roiall kinges ! 133 

' bkiU-les3. - ready. 

44 Acclamatio Patri(B, or the Powder Treasons. 


Percye ! tliie honor of valor firste begane Deaf 27, back.] 
when Haughtie Hott-spurr did firste wynne that name 
Bj peircinge the eye of a moste brave man 

In a famose combatt ; but nowe the same 137 

Treason hathe stayned, to thie^ endlesse shame 
Of thee and all that honorable race, 
of whiche thie trecheries haue sought disgrace. 140 


Didst thou not sarve thie dreade roiall kinge ? 
and nere" his person in accounte helde dere. 
Oh vilde cursed viper ! whye wouldst thou stinge 

or poyson the fountayne that ranne so clere ? ^^^ 

contente coulde not please thee, it dothe appeare ; 
But thyne aspiringe ambitiouse pride 
Bothe wise men doe hate, yee, and fooles deryde ! 117 


And nowe thie prowde head orepries that place 

where monstrose treason shoulde haue bene effected ! 
pittie, so bi^ave a man shoulde wante the gi'ace 

of god and man to bee so reiected, 1^1 

plottinge cruelties nere before suspected : 
I meane, the horror thou mentst to bringe 
vppon thie contrie and thie roiall kinge. ISl' 


Thie selfe weare caught in the trappo thou didst laye, 

tane in the snare thou thie selfe devisde. 
Thie quarters doe stande for foules as a praye, 

thie life thou didst leese'^ as a traytor surprisde, 1^^ 
Thie conceytes all dasht, that thou hadst devisde ; 
Thie head and quarters farr severed doe stande, 
Devided in sondrye places of the lande. 1^1 


Nexte, Catesbye : thou didst playe the wilyo catt, ['ca.f 28.] 

and wearte cheife agente in this wicked treason, 
Not, naturallie, to spoile the noysome Eatt, 

But moste agaynste kynde, at that Instant season 1^5 
Hadst plotted, bothe agaynste pittie and reason, 

Thie kinges confusion and wracke at the leaste ; 1^7 
whiche showes thou wearte a filtbie scratchinge beaste, 

1 the. * never. ^ jose. 

Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 45 


And wouldst scratclie downe tlie parlament liowse 

and all the nobles assembled tliat tyme : 
Here was a cruell catt to catclie a mouse ! 

Here was the sco)?nne of filthie niudd and slime ! 172 
Here treason shoulde haue bene broacht in the pryrae ! 
But it pleasde god this catt was caught ithe snare, 
And tangled in the grynne^ or hee was aware ; 175 


And his head likewise elevate dothe stando 

over that place hee woulde haue destroyde, 
a prospecte to good subiects of the lande 

whome his villanyes woulde fayne haue anoyde ; 179 
But horror his stomake had so overcloyde 

That it vomyted forthe his skandalouse shame. 

To the sole discreditt of Catesbyes name. 182 


sir Everarde Digbye ! thou wearte a knight, 

a man whose wisedome shoulde haue tane heede. 
And wayed howe god dotho defende the right, 

and howe traytors in thoudo did ever speede, 183 

Desarte had alwayes his desarved meede ; 
Experience whereof thou longe hadst sene 
In treasons plotted agaynste ouv late Queue. 189 


Howe god was still her maiesties defence [leaf 28, back.] 

when traytors sondrye wayes sought her fall, 
Howe, vnsuspected, hee bewrayde there pretence," 

Parrye maye staude an example for all, 193 

His owne feare frettinge so at gall. 

That when hee quiveriuge nere her grace did stande. 
The Dagge^ was redye to fall forthe his hande. 196 


Digbye ! this might haue bene a warninge for thee, 

and to all others of that cursed crewe ! 
But weale his good happe in tyme coulde not see, 

and discontente makes manye one to rewe, 200 

so become trusties, to there prince vntrewe. 
Digbye in like predicamente hathe bynne ; 
Digged a pitt, and hym selfe fell in. 203 

' enare, gin. 2 intention. * I'istol. — JIallmell. 

46 Acclamatio Patria, or the Powder Treasons. 


Nexte^ Eoberte wynter, Itlie cath[a]loge I fynde; 
a man wliose name Destruction woulde bringe, 
wlioe in this action bare a traytrose mynde, 

and woulde destroye the glorye of o?;r springe, 207 

consentinge to the Deathe of o?(r roiall kinge ; 

■whose boystrose gale shoulde haue blowne suche a blaste, 
To haue made all Englande othe sodden agaste, 210 


yee, to haue blowne vpp all without remorse, 

The kinge, Queue, prince, and nobles together, 
Turnde manye good man vnto a dead corse 

w?"th mangled lymbes. was not this foule weather 214 

when furye shoulde haue hoysted vpp altogether ? 
This was wynters love and holye zeale ! 
Suche blastes, lorde, cutt of from this ccmmon weale ! 217 


The nexte is lohn Grante, whoe might grante in-deede H^^f 

Hee was a traytor in the highest degree, 
Grantinge in this action his overmuche spede. 

That his good estate in tymo coulde not see : 221 

ambitiouse myndes nere contented bee, 
as appearde in actions of this Grante, 
In whose will to treason there was no wante. 22^4 


And all muste grante that hee deserved deathe 

ffbr his attempts in that moste wicked deede. 

That cruellie woulde haue abridged the breathe 

of manye thousandes, if treason coulde spede, 228 

and manye a mothers cliilde haue made to bleedc: 
Tis generallie granted hee was vniuste, 
a vyllayne, a traytor, not worthie of truste. 231 


Bates might in this poynte haue bated an ace, 

that was (as tis sayde) Traytor Catesbies man : 
Swashbucklers ronne on to there myscheifs apace, 

and forwarde the same asmuche as they can ; 235 

There orehastie spede they afterwards ban. 
To the overthrowe of them and there states, 
as well appearde by this feUowe Bates. 238 

Acclamatio Patrice, or the Poivder Treasons. 47 


Tlioughe men there masters ought trulie to sarve, 

as in dutie tlieye thereunto are bounde, 
\_Yet should they not plot their Jiing's head of to carvc,^] 
By treason sekinge there states to confounde, 242 

There kinge and contrie w^th horror to wouude ; 
no servante in this ought take his masters parte, 
leaste Gwerdonde as bates, for his luste desarte. 245 


nowe another wynter came in the thronge, Deaf 29, back.] 

that blewe his blustringe blastes in this realme, 
for hee at roome had bene resident longe. 

But came to Infecte this moste sacred stream, 219 

Makinge his brother blowe suche a gleame 
of treason as never was harde of befoi^e : 
a cruell wynters blaste, that vexte vs sore ! 252 


Weare theise, wynter, the beste fruyts thou couldst bringc, 

I muste nodes confesse thie comfortes weare colde. 
With thie whirlinge wyndes to wither the springe 
so sone : but that it hatho bene oftymes tolde, 256 

' Myscheife is ever in all things to bolde.'' 

proofe in thee, for the broyles thou haste bredd 
Hathe severde thie quarters farr from thie head. 259 


Thou mightst well haue exclamed on roome_, 

as of thie myserye the fynall cause, 
where princes are censurde w/th heavie doome, 

that resiste agaynste there catholicke lawes, 263 

makinge subiects rebell, not takinge pawse, 

nor wayinge what god coimnandes in his worde, 265 
" ffeare god, love the kinge,'^ thus scriptures recorde. 


Then Eockwood hathe rocked hym selfe faste a-slepe, 

lulled by treason to swete securitie, 
whose witts weare fyne, and conceites verye depe, 

But blotted and stayned with all Impuritie ; 270 

whose harte was fraughted^ with obduritie. 
That hee those vyllanyes putt in vre,^ 
Contries ruyne by treason to procure. 273 

A line left blank in the MS. 2 freigliled, fraught. ^ ^^^ practice. 

48 Acdamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 

• XL. 
Eockwood was namde to bee an Esqm'er, [leaf 30.] 

and one that might haue lived in good sorte : 
and Rockinge ambition blewe the fyer 

That kindled the scandall of ill reporte, 277 

and of trewe allegiance batterde the forte : 
Popeiye so pufte hym w?th discontente, 
That his posteritie shall ever repente. 280 


Then came keyes, a gentelman by diseente, 
a notable papiste, so longe tyme knowne : 
Subversion of the state was his iutente, 

as by the seedes appeare, w/a'ch hee hathe sowne ; 281 
whoe mente at random e all downe haue mowne, 
Govermente and state, thus they had decreede : 
kcyes was an agente, and forwardo in the deede. 287 


This keyes, of treason opened the locko 

whiche keyes of lustice shoulde haue kepte shutt. 
In sekinge to remove the surest rocke. 

To whose hande the sworde of auctoritie is putt, 291 
at whose life this traytor made his butt : 

But in theise demeans hee made suche greate haste. 
The keyes of lustice haue his life defacoste. 294 


Nowe laste, thoughe firste of Balams broode. 

Came Gwido vaux, the moste tyranose man, 
and one whose glorye was spillinge of blood, 

and the onelie agente this mischeife beganne, 298 

And verye Instr[u]ment whome all men maye banne. 
Hee, to all of this storyo shalbe teller, 
Maye well be calde the Devill in the celler. 301 


Ilee in His celler a trappe had planted, [leaf 30, back.] 

Herewith to haue spoilde the moste noble blood. 
In whome nor prudence nor mercye wanted, 

whoe is sole defender of brittaynes good, 305 

agaynste whome this furye raysde the flood. 
Worse then Cateline raysde at roome ; 
But sone confounded by gods mightie doome. 308 

Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 49 


traytrose ludas ! or farr worse tlien hee, 
whoe for love of pelfe did his master betraye I 
aux, so blynded withe poperie, couhle not see 
Iramynent dangers of that dreadfull daye^ 312 

where manye thousands shoulde sighe well-awaye ! 
Hee was pardondoj destruction to bringe 
vppon his contrie and his roiall kinge. 315 


And when hee was tane, the rellicks weare founde, — 

as a hayrie shurte, with other popishe trashe^ — 
and hee in wordes as a traytor vnsounde, 

whiche caused lustice whipp sorer with his Lasho ; 319 
The Horror of his actes did good stomakes abashoj 
But at laste^ when popishe helpes had no hope, 
Hee made his laste ende in a hempen rope. 322 


Was ever suche trecherie harde of before ? 

yet Englande, traytors at all tymes hathe bredd ; 
But of this consorte there weare suche greate store, 

whoe in confusion had gatherde to a hedd, 326 

Beinge all perswaded they shoulde haue spedd. 
But see the mercye and love of ouy god ! 
ffor mercye and mallice are things farr odd. 329 


When thinges weare sorted to a full effecte, Q^af 31.] 

and the tyme nowe come that was appoynted, 
and all thinges planted without suspecte. 

To haue made awaye the lordes anoynted, 333 

and all vnion in sender haue ioynted, 

Even then, a letter contayninge fewe lynes, 

By one of them written, all vndermynes ! 336 


O happie hande that did write the same, 

thoughe theffecte proved agaynste his mynde ! 
yet glorified bee gods sacred name ! 

for thereby wee did preservation fynde, 310 

owre^ lives preserved from these cormorants kynde, 
That withe fyer and powder woulde [have] vs anoyde, 
and in an Instante haue Englande destroyde. 343 

" » ?MS. 

III. £ 

50 Acclamatio Patri(S, or the Powder Treasons. 


Then had approachte oure desolation ! 

ruyne and murther had bene redye preste ! 
Then Roome, Avithe all her abhomynation/ 

"woulde once agayne on highe avance her creste, 317 
and all godlie lawes shoulde liane bene depreste ! 
In amplest sorte, without condition, 
Cruellye executed there co?nmyssion ! 350 


Then widowes shoulde haue waylde there husbands wante, 

and children haue waylod for there fathers dead, 
]\rothers for children w/ach theye woulde supplante. 

Sisters for brothers nianye a teare haue shedd, 354 

Manye fathers haue gone with greife to there bedd 
ffor losse of there sonncs, Avhome crueltio kilde ! 356 
niuche Innocent blood shoulde then haue bene spilde, 


All rocordes of lawes as then defaced, [leaf 31, back.] 

all precedents likewise shoulde haue bene burned, 
Counsolers ludges and clarkes disgraced, 

and there former hopes to sorrowe turned ; 361 

yee, all good men with greife haue mourned 
To see the desolation of theiso dayes, 
where myschcife had Tryvmphed so manye wayes ! 364 


Then haue wee not cause to prayse our god, 

whoe from theise dangers hathe vs preserved, 
and fre[e]d vs from this heavie smartinge rodd 

of sviche traytors as from dutie swarved ? 3(58 

and like sawcye mates they woulde haue carved 
of manye good men bothe there goods & life : 
yee, one small letter hathe barde this strife. 


Here was the wisedome of our god to bee sone ! 

Here mans owne wisedome was proved but vayne ! 
Here, where so manye consultations had bene. 

Here to plott and practise there witts they strayne, 375 
Here, marke by there vyllanyes what they gaync ! 
a trappe they had layde, and bayted a gynne. 
Thee hooke they swallowed, and pitt they fell in ! 378 

* Cp. T/ic Fal of the licntish Church, icith al the abhominations, black letter, 
in Lambeth Librarj\ 


Acclamalio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 51 


And so by Justice haue repte there desartes, 
aud gwerdon due to suclie mercyles men : 
Hanged and quartred, and there traytrose hartes 

Withe bowells and members burned^ and then 382 

There bodyes butcherde in sight of manye men. 
That greatlie did himente there lacke of grace. 
That by treason wouhle there glorye deface. 385 


The treasons that Babington once Invented, [leaf 32.] 

withe yo?6rs in no sorte might bee comparde ! 
Thoye to the Deathe of there Queue consented ; 

you aymde at all — a crueltie never harde ! 389 

all sparkes of christianytie debarde, 

The kinge, Queue, prince, and nobles fynall doome ! 
Suche bee the fruytes that bee plotted at roome, 3U2 


And hither are sente to bee Ingrafted 

By lesuytes ithe hartes of good mens mynde ! 
an 1 manye other dreggs are hether wafted 

of superstition, mens hartes to blynde, 31)6 

Causinge them to poperye [to] bee Inclinde : 
So, by wicked Bellamytes^^ perswation, 
They Hassarde the Danger of there salvation, 399 


And are Egged on to treason like case, 

bothe agaynste kinge and contrie to rebell, 
Sckinge the Image of god to deface : 

what is donne agaynste hym, all is well ! 403 

loe, theise bee the fruytes of that romyshe hell ! 
and when [their] soules are secluded^ gods glorye. 
Then will they fishe for them in purgatorye. 406 


But that rotten staffe is disfavorde quite, 

and hope of purgatorye out of requeste ; 
no wise men in suche things will take delite ; 

with suche heavie burthens theyele not bee prcst ; 410 
Thei'e hope is ' cure god hathe purchacsto the reste 
of repentante synfull soules after deathe,^ 
Purgatorye longe synce hunted out of breathe. 413 

' ? Bedlamites or Balaamites ; the Jesuits, Gai-net, Oldcorne, etc. ^ Khut out of. 

52 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 


Saynte ffrancis maye faste, firste auditor of the same^ Deaf 32, 
of whiclie hee ever hathe bene the cheife proppe, ^^ '-' 
But nowe waxte olde, decripitt and lame, 

His requiem masses downe are lopte, 417 

The zeale of gods truthe that streame hathe stopte ; 
That scarbugge^ w/ach did so manye affright. 
By triall of truthe is quyte put to flight ; 420 


Andj good bee praysde, all yowr popishe trashe 

accounted as thinges frivolose and vayne ; 
jouY eare-confession, and suche myshe-mashe 

of filthic vilde dreggs, gods glorye to stayne, 424 

By whiche to jouv state you horded vpp gayne, 
Is quite from brittayne banyshed awaye, 
ffrustrate yottr hopes, and you haue loste the daye, 427 


Yee, the greate daye of yo»r expectation ! 

and youv hopes all turned to darkest night. 
Wherein shoulde haue bene suche Innovation 

agaynste nature, agaynste equitie and right, 431 

If yowr devises haue prevayled might, 

when one of yo?tr crewe, and with you accurste, 
Thoughe agaynste his will, revealde it at firste, 431 


And by his written letter hathe taught you to preache, 

what doctryne, the whole wordle knoweth to well, 
veryfyinge what you before did teache, 

In catholicke errors to make men dwell, 438 

Teachinge the waye that leadeth to hell : 
yoz(r pulpitt was a Gibbett raysed on hie, 
whereon for treason you weare ludged to dye, 441 


A pulpitt where manye haue preached before, C^caf 33.] 

that haue bene traytors agaynst kinge and state. 
God grante, I praye, there never bee more, 

withe you so puffed withe wordlie hate, 445 

But that there Rigor maye in some sorte bate,^ 
or like sicke Horses, to cure the fallose,^ 
God sonde you all maye preache on the gallose, 448 

* Scare-goblin, or -Lugbear ; like scare-crow. ^ Abate. 

^ Fellon, a disease in cows : felone, a sore or wMtlow. — SalliiveU. 

Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 63 


As some of them of late weare forced to preache 

In pawles churchyarde, weste parte of the same. 
Where a Highe Gibbett farr above our retche 

was there elevated on a wooden frame, 452 

and to see them there manye thousands came : 
Sir Everarde Digbye, hee repentant dyde. 
But on the Catholyke faithe hee still relyde. 455 


Then preacht wynter, Grante, and Bates like case ; 

But one selfe doctryne they agreede vppon. 
There pulpitt to papistes a foule disgrace, 

that weare there in place spectators on ; 459 

There wante of grace bewaylde of manye one, 
I meane, good subiects of Towne and cittie 
That shedd brynishe teares for there soules pittie. 462 


Thcxocutioners playde there butchringe partes 

as Justice had doomde, and ludgment had paste, 
and traytors gwerdonde for there desarte. 

The rewarde of trecherye payde at laste ; 466 

for they muste nedes fall that ronne in suche haste 
Into the gulphe of Imineut Dangers, 
That to allegiance become suche strangers 469 


As did theise foiire herebefore recited, [leaf 3 3, back.] 

and all the reste of that vilde faction : 
at there fall I knowe papistes are spited, 

ffor manye weare prevye to the action 473 

whose lives haue not yet made satisfaction ; 

leaste' theye repente there purpose in this case, 
God sende them preache on some suche like place. 476 


Then to westmynster other foure weare drawne 

on Hurdells throughe london, to there disgrace, 
To the olde pallace where treason was sowne ; 

there was elevated there preachinge place, 480 

where wynter, firste of that rebelliose race, 

preacht popishe doctryne to confirme his faith [e] ; 
But the Hangman quicklie stopped his breathe. 483 

1 unless. 

54 Acclamatio Fatrics, or the Powder Treasons. 


Then Died Eockwoode, Yaux, and keyes the laste, 

all on the same pulpitt made there endes ; 
But with hangmans helpe there paynes weare sone paste ; 
There deathes a corsyve to there popishe frends, 487 
and a comforte to suche as the welfare intends, 
And to kinge and contrie wishe all good, 
livinge in dutie, not thirstinge for blood, 490 


All theise traytors that before are named, 

with others by lustice doomde in like cases, 
whose aspiriuge mynde the gallose hathe tamde, 

In Worcester, stafforde-shere, and suclio like places, 494 
where theise traytors lurkinge hydd there faces, 
Thoughe covertlie hyd, yet founde out at laste. 
And with theise in rancke deserve to be placesto. 497 


Stephen litleton, thou hadst cause to repente ! P^af 3i.] 

thie howse was receptakle of the reste. 
God grante thie trecherie thou didst lamente, 

and that contrition harborde in thie breste ; 501 

ffor in theise actions thou weare to preste '} 
ffor in Holbage howse thou didst receve them, 
and ronnynge awaye, as a praye didst leave them. 504 


And percye and Catesbye bothe there weare kilde. 

Withe twoe of the Wrights, and others I not name ; 
Mucho traytrose blood that tyme there was spilde. 

That never to triall of lustice came ; S08 

The Desperate vyllaynes had vowed the same, 
never to bee tane, and by lustice tryde, 
what hassarde so ere there fortunes did byde. 511 


But tis thought there bee some of greater states 

that haue bene agents and Dealers therein : 
Tis pittie that ever by sucho base mates 

they shoulde bee counselde^ to suche deadlie synne, 515 
Or that anye peere shoulde bee sene therein. 
To ecklipse the glorye of Honored fame, 
and bee scandalizde with touche of the same ; 518 
1 Eeady. ^ MS. comselde. 


Acclamatio Pairiee, or the Powder Treasons. 55 


ffor greate is tlie maiestie of Roiall kingcs, 

tliat here vppon eartlic gods vicegerents bee ! 
There lookes to trecherye are fearfull stinges ; 

There eyes, like Argus, to beholde and see, 522 

even to there myndes that good subiects bee. 
ffrom those that seke maiestie to betraye, 
Hee treason can fynde, and the same bewraye. 525 


God grante all [these] subiects example maye bee P^-'^^ 24, 
to all others, hereafter to bewai^e, "^^ "■' 

The saftie of there states to beholde and see, 
and of allegiance haue a speciall care, 
leaste the like gwerdon fall to there share ; 
So generallie wishinge all to take hede, 
Theye in aftertymes the better maye spede. 532 


The guylte of the harte is knowne by the eye : 

althoughe traytors conuynglie dissemble. 
The wisedome of princes can sone aspie 

out those secrett ; for feare makes them tremble, 536 
and there guyltie consciences to wemble.-^ 
There outwarde countnances then bewraye^ 
"What theye^ haue thought, or tonges can saye. 539 


A conscience clere, no prerogative needs, — 

loe, here is the wisedome of o?(r good god ! — - 
when corrupted myndes v/ith there horror bleedes. 

Thus truthe and villanye are things farr odd, 513 

The one withe love, the other wzth Justice rodd ; 
Thus bothe are gwerdonde in tliende, wee see : 
Then whoe woulde venter a traytor to bee ? 516 


Whie, none but fooles that haue loste there witts, 
and wasted out the same on foolishe toyes, 

* Wemble, to turn a cup upside down in token of having had enough tea, 
(Northern;) IJ^ambk, to roll, to rumble, {HaUiu-ell ;) to move in an undula- 
ting manner, {Jamieson ;) to rise up as seething -water does, to -WTiggle like 
an Arrow in the Air. {Kersey's P/iilijips.) 

2 MS. hewaraye. ^ MS. there. 

56 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons, 

So tlien will venter on suclie franticke fitts, 

and woulde thereby abridge otlier mens ioyes. 550 

See here, the sequell proves there owne anoyes ! 
This tale of treason and her sadd storye, 
of manye a man hathe dym7?ide the gloryc, 553 


And alwayes hathe^ synce the wordle beganne, [leaf 35.] 

that eve in parradise did Adam betraye, 
whiclie was the ruyne of the state of man, 

To all posterities the sole decaye 557 

till god in mercye washte the same awaye : 
onelie by the deathe of his beloved sonne 
Brusinge the Serpents head, ouv ioyes begonne. 560 


So that the Dcvill the firste traytor was, 

thoughe transformed into an angell bright,^ 
Intendinge subtellic to bringe to passe, 

By polecye turninge darknes to light, 664 

That for Imitacion all others might 
Slilye goe aboute when they tyranise, 
or with an Intente myscheife to devise. 567 


So when anye man to myscheife is bente, 

withe full resolve to prosecute the same. 
His master is preste^ to forwarde his Intente, 

Ats^ elbowe egginge hym, devoyde of shame, 571 

Makinge hym worke in destructions frame 
The webbe^ of woe, to overthrowe his state 
By murther and treason, w/a'ch god dothe hate. 574, 


But now, you sacred muses, guyde my penne ! 

Devyne Minerva, rule my artlesse^ quill. 
That I maye sett forthe to the vewe of all men 

His worthe, whoe farr surpasseth my small skill, 578 
yet will expresse a loiall subiects will 
To eternyze here his deserved fame, 
Terrifyinge traytors at sounde of the same ! 581 

* Origi»aUii of light. ^ Keady. 3 At his. 

* MS. weble. » Unskilful. 

Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 57 


flBrste, liees religiouse : thats knowne well : [leaf 35, back.] 

to sett forthe gods glorye, his speciall care, 
what paynes hee takes therein, the wordle can tell ; 

what metings and assemblies hee did prepare, ^85 

To haue things reformed, thought out of square. 
Where his maiestie in presence did sytt 
Hearinge controversies, for a kinge moste fitt. 588 


Then hees mercifull, and no rigor showes, 

all crueltie Bannyshed from his harte : 
His bountie and love, whoe is it but knowes ? 

In amplest wise gwerdonynge trewe desarte, 592 

and vnto subiectes dothe eache waye Imparte ; 

yee, of stubborne papistes hathe stayde the leasure ; 
But theyle bee reformed at there owne pleasure, 595 


Or els by treason will cutt out there waye, 

and so Intrude on his highnes favor, 
of hym and his sekinge the sole decaye. 

Dothe this of good religion savor ? 699 

no ! obstinate men ! you doe but glavor^ ! 

where his highnes seekes yowr quiett and peace, 
you onelie seeke his sorrowes to Increase ! 602 


Hee is also called the prince of peace, 

ffor whiche all nations to hym haue sente. 
In leauge^ with all princes, olde quarrells ceasse ; 

Quyet of his contrie hathe eache waye mente. 606 

But aspiringe myndes are never contente. 

If an angell from heaven hither came downe 608 

To rule here in earthe, and weare Brittaynes crowne. 


What vertues in anye kinge hathe ever bene, Peaf 36.] 

but in his maiestie wee maye fynde them ? 
Takinge patrone from owr late blessed Quene, 

* to sooth up, or fawn upon. — Kersey's Phillips ; to flatter.— iVa?e\v. * league. 
III. ]S 

58 Acdamatio Patriee, or the Powder Treasons. 

vnto whose love liee ever combynde tym, 613 

and sliee in like love did ever mynde liym, 
as beinge trewe heire of her roiall race, 
Endowed bothe with her vertues and gra[ce]. 616 


Hee is also wise, hee is luste and learned, 

provident and careful! for subiects [g] ood ; 
whose wisedonie, withe sallomon, hathe [discejrned 
whoe is the right childe of Harlotts b [lood] ; G20 

whose learnynge, the truthe sone vnderstoode 
without devydinge the same a-sonder, 
To gods glorye and oure greate wonder. 623 


Hee is likewise provident for the poore, 

restrayninge the canckers of his co?>imon-\veaIthe 
That vagarantlie begg from dore to dore, 

thoughe still they wander vpp and downe by stealthc ; 627 
and for maymed souldiers provided hcalthe, 
and stipens^ in places for them to live. 
In all sheres^ the contries doe pentions give. 630 


Hee mayntaynes Hospitalls for the disseasde, 

where the sicke are healde, the lame are cured ; 
But mall- contented myndes are never pleasde, 

when withe ambition theye bee in-vred, 634 

a Dissease that never can bee cured, 

Tis so puffed with hate, and [with] furye dothe swell. 
It often drawes downe the sicke soule to hell. 637 

Nowe to conclude, or^ I haue well begonne [leaf 36, back.] 

to prayse his vertue that dothe prayse surmounte, 
leaste I shoulde darken the glorye of the sonne, 

whose fame is boundlesse, passinge my accounte, 641 
vnlesse withe phaeton I presume to mounte. 
To rule don phebus steedes and fyrye carr. 
That where I shoulde make I shalbe^ sure to marre. 644 

* stipends. * shires. 

3 before. * MS. shalle. 

Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 59 


[G]od blesse and preserve this ouv roiall klnge ! 
[And fro] m traytrose practises defende liym, 
[In w]i]ose harte trewe contente maye daylie sprino-o; 
[A lo]nge and happie raygne ore vs god sende liym ! 6^8 
confounde all suche as evill pretende^ liyra ! 

God blesse ouv Quene, prince^ and nobles of the lande ! 
protecte them, swete lesus, with thie mightie hande ! 

Amen ! g52 

Lorde, I am bolde on thie mercyes to persever : 
poore Williams thus dothe praye, and will doe ever. 

finis— R. W. 

' Fr. pretendre, aime at . . lay or put in for; also, to meane; intend. — Cot' 


[If any readers feel that " ^oore wilUams's " flunkeyism 
is as bad as liis verse, let them remember how much of that 
quality there was in England in James's time ; let them com- 
pare A Frophecye in the Percy Folio Ballads and Romances, 
iii. 372-3, and think that, as Williams was evidently beg- 
ging for relief, he may be excused for laying on the praise 
and glory thick enough to suit James's taste. R. W. was 
no worse than hundreds of divines and statesmen of his 
day.— F. J. F.] 


£Df CDtoam, tufee of IBoltpnpm. 

In these verses we have the threnody of the unfortunate Duke 
of Buckingham, pi;t to death at the beginning of the reign of 
Henry VIII. The charges upon which he suffered appear to 
have been absolutely devoid of proof. Among others, he was 
accused of aspiring to the crown in 1511, and with consulting 
a certain Nicholas Hopkins (a Carthusian monk, who pretended 
to be a necromancer) on the subject of the King's death. He was 
executed May 17, 1521. 

The account of his trial as given by Holinshed is very fresh 
and graphic, and was evidently familiar to Shakspere when he 
wrote the scene so well known to the readers of Henry VIII. 

" Thus was this prince duke of Buckingham found giltie of 
high treason, by a duke, a marques, seven earles, and twelve 
barons. The duke was brought to the barre sore chafing, and 
swet marvellouslie ; and after he had made his reverence he 
paused a while. The duke of Norflblke, as judge, said : ' Sir 
Edward, you have heard how you be indicted of high treason ; 
you pleaded thereto not giltie, putting your selfe to the peeres 
of the realme, which have found you giltie.' Then the duke of 
Norflblke wept and said : ' You shall be led to the king's prison, 
and there laid on a hardle, and so drawne to the place of execu- 
tion, and there be hanged, cut downe alive, your members cut 
off and cast into the fire, your bowels burnt before you, your 
head smitten off, and your bodie quartered and divided at the 
king's will, and God have mercie on your soule. Amen.' 

" The duke of Buckingham said : ' My lord of Norffolke, you 
have said as a traitor should be said unto, but I was never anie : 
but, my lords, I nothing maligne for that you have doone to me, 
but the eternall God forgive you my death, and I doo : I shall 
never sue to the king for life, howbeit he is a gratious prince, 
and more grace may come from him than I desire. I desire you, 
my lords, and all my fellows, to pray for me.' Then was the 
edge of the axe turned towards him, and he led into a barge. 
Sir Thomas Lovell desired him to sit on the cushins and carpet 
ordeined for him. He said : ' Nay ; for when I went to ^yest- 
minster I was duke of Buckingham, now I am but Edward 
Bohune, the most caitife of the world.' Thus they landed at the 
Temple, where received him Sir Nicholas Vawse and Sir William 
Sands, baronets,^ and led him through the citie, who desired ever 

1 sic in the original. Query " bannerets." 

62 The Duke of Buckingham's Lament. 

the people to pray for liim, of whome some wept and lamented, 
and said : ' This is the end of evill life, God forgive him; he was 
a proud prince, it is pitie that he behaved him so against his 
king and liege lord, whome God preserve.' Thus about foure of 
the clocke he was brought as a cast man to the Tower." 

Such was the end of this unfortunate man, the head of whose 
family had been sent for generations to the shambles. See 
Shakspere's Henry VIII., Act II. Scene 1. 

Of the twentjr-two stanzas of the ballad, nineteen ryme the 
second and fourth lines in -ess. 

[Harl. MS. 2252, leaf 2, back.] 

Alas ! to whom shuld I cowplayne/ 

or shews my wofuit lieyvynes, 
Sythe fortune hatha me in dysdayne, 

& am exiled, Remedy les ? 


o flateryng fortune ! I May the Call ; 

thy Ghaungebytt chance I caw expres ; 
moste lykeste A w>"tfche vnnaturalt, 

\)0\x haste exiled, Remediles. 

Alas ! Alas ! remediles ! 

put am I to mortal! dystres ! 
exilyd for evyr, Remedyles, 

by Cawtellme/^t, & remediles ! 


Art thow A god ? or by whose law2« 

doste take on Y suche entcrpnse, 
to take on the we'tA-owte A Cawse, 

whyche yet dyd never p^'^iudyse ? 


Leva of Y woe to wr^ke on me, 

To leve A lady all Comfortles ; 
hyt ys no poynte of chevalry, 

nor yet no Towche of lentylnes. 

1 In the MS., several of the final letters, as s, m, n, f, d, have a curl or tag, 
but they appear to belong to the flourish of the hand. 

The Duke of JBucJcingham's Lament. 63 


I say Adew ! but not farweit ! 

False, flaterywg, fortune, with dobylnea 
Thow baste exilyd, wbycb dyd exsett, 

The Chefe refuge of my dystres. 


o god, ]pat ait Ipia world bathe wrowghte ! 

whom shuld I tryste? wbycb be perforce, 
That I Browght vppe & made of nowghte 

ha]?® me Acusyd, Remedyles. 


ensampyft by me All lordes may Take, 
to whom ])er myndes they do exprese ; 

on, of my Councell ]>at I dyd make, 
ha])® me Acusyd, remedyles. 


defawte in my prynce can I none fynde, 
bys lawys to vse with Ryghtwysenes ; 

In them ])at contrary he do])® fynde. 
To corrects them, remedyles. 


for, no dowte, dethe haue I des(sruyd ; 

good lord, to ])® I me co«fesse ; 
thy grace in me was not Regardyd, 

Therfor I dye now remedyles. 


Sumtyme my name was fa.miis\ye sprede, 

A duke Ryatt, in ]>is land pereles ; 
& nowe, Alas ! lost ys my hede, 

exilyd for evyr, Remedyles ! 


Now take I my dethe here paciently ; 

byt botbyth ^ me not to make no stryffe. 
Was I never false to the kyng nor ])® Crowne, 

but only to myn owne lady & wyffe. 

' booteth, advantages. 

G 2 

64 The Duke of Buckingham's Lament. 


for-gyve me, lady, as J^ou wold forgevyw be ! 

my payn^^s here they be fuft thy eke. 
pray ye for me ! and I wyll pray for yow Agayne, 

& yf j?® dede may pray for Y quykc[ke]. 


And nowe, farweil myne owne lady swete ! 

my payn«<s styll they do Increse ; 
I truste ons Agayne yow & I shall mete, 

& never to be exilyd, Remedyles. 


Adew, my lady & wyfe ! 

And Co/;? forte youv selfe in hevynes ; 
for to beweyle the losse of my lyfe, 

To me hyt ys remedyles. 


o ye nobyll lordr s & ladys fayre ! 

pray to ow^r kyng, In my dj'stresse 
To be graci^/s to my wyfe, chyld^r, & myne Ay re, 

J7«t he exile thew not E-emedyles. 


for, of my fawte no thynge they knowe ; 

owe/' lord god take I to wytnesse ! 
vnto ]>er kyng bothe faythfuft & Trew : 

Exile them not Remedyles. 


Therfor, Adew, my lordf s aft ! 

The darte of de]?® me [dothe] oppresse, 
for to co//iplayne of my mortatt faft, 

To me hyt ys remedyles. 


Farweft, my good frendes, & seruantes trewe ! 

I pray yow all of lentylnes. 
To pray to ower lord Cryste \es\x, 

to haue mercy of my wrechydnes. 

The Duke of Buckingham* s Lament. 65 


Now where ys he Thys dede do shatt ? — 

geve me leve to speke whyle I haue brethe ; — 

here, before \k lordcs aft, 

hertely here I forgeve Y ^y dethe. 


In Man?w tuas, I co«?me»d me to the, lesu ! 

my body ys here in ])/s dystresse. 
now, good lord, as \o^x arte A lustes trewe, 

exile not my pore sowle, remedy les ! 


\esw. ! Reward them bothe bodely & goostlye, 

from alle adu^rsyte & grete dj^stresse, 
\ai wyll pray for the sowle of the dwke of bokyngam, 

\ai late was exiled remedyles. 



In the following poems, although perhaps few of them can boast 
of any considerable literary merit, we have a lively picture pre- 
sented to us of the Maiden Queen, and the estimation in which 
she was held by her contemporaries. Desjiite many personal 
foibles, and a Tudor-like tendency to rule with the strong hand, 
there can be no doubt that Elizabeth was popular among her 
subjects : her natural good sense taught her when to stop in her 
efforts to enforce any of her arbitrary measures : she calculated 
the pulse of the nation, and kept its beatings regular. If we 
were to trust the panegyrics written during her reign, she was 
a paragon of every excellence— intellectual and moral; and 
mercenary poets were not unwilling to see all conceivable 
beauties in a woman of seventy, whose cheeks were resplendent 
with paint, and whose head was bedecked with a red wig. 

Such Avas the Britomart and Gloriana of Spenser : the heroine 
of whom Ealeigh and Essex were knight-errants. The anonymous 
versifiers, some of whose productions are here for the first time 
printed, spoke of her as a Venus and Minerva : in her youth she 
may have had some remote claims to the former appellation ; 
throughout her whole life slie might have assumed the latter 
title with no great inconsistency. With considerable penetration, 
a ready wit, and a wonderful power of selecting able and suitable 
agents for her purposes, — witness the brilliant men who composed 
her court, — she was also a woman of considerable reading, and 
the mistress of many languages. Elizabeth affected a taste for 
philological pursuits. Jerome Horsey, the celebrated ambassador 
to Eussia, tells us that when he came iDack to England, and showed 
Her Majesty the letter received from the terrible Ivan Vasilievitch, 
— the annals of whose reign in the bloody fasti of Muscovy seem 
more than usually besmirched, — the Queen looked with great 
curiosity at the words in the Slavonic tongue, adding, "I could 
quicklie lern it." He also tells us that she asked " if such and 
such letters and asseveracions had not this signification," etc. 
The poets who praised her linguistic acquirements had probably 
some good ground for their representations. We know that 
female education in those days was a solid affair, and had little 
in common with the mincing elegancies held sufficient by modern 
society. Camden tells us that "before she was seventeen years of 
age, she understood well the Latin, French, and Italian tongues, 
and had an indifferent knowledge of the Greek," 

The Polish Ambassador. — Aiij'ou a Suitor. 67 

Eoger Ascham has recorded her proficiency in the latter lan- 
guage ("Epistolarura Libri Quatuor Oxoni^," mdcciii., p. 52, 
Letter to Joannes Sturmius) — 

" Si aves scire, quidnam rerum ago in Aula, intelligas nunquam mihi magis 
optatuni otiuni concessum fuisse in Academia; quam nunc est in Regia D. 
Elizabetha et ego una legimus Grffice orationes J^lschinis et Demosthenis mpl 
^Ti(pa.pov. Ilia prffilegit mihi et primo aspectu tarn scienter intelligit, non 
solum proprietatem linguas, et oratoris sensum: sed totara caussse contentionem, 
populi scita, consuetudinem, et mores illius urbis, ut sumraopere admirareis." 

This is a large measure of praise, unless, as is perhaps too often 
the case, the schoolmaster is wholly lost in the courtier. The 
story of the arrival of the Polish ambassador, Paul Dzialinski, 
who was sent by Sigismund II. in 1597, is well known. He was 
a man of stately presence, and appeared in an elaborate suit of 
black velvet; on being introduced before the Queen, he made 
a long oration in Latin, complaining of the wars between the 
English and Spaniards, whereby he asserted that the commerce 
of Poland was seriously injured. In reply, Elizabeth broke out 
into a vehement tirade in excellent Latin, in which, as Speed says, 
"lionlike, rising, she danted the malapert orator no less with her 
stately port and majestical deporture, than with the tartness of 
her princely checks." 

Of her poetical talents Master G-eorge Puttenham speaks with no 
little praise, although perhaps his critical powers are somewhat 
blunted by a courtier's adulation : " I finde none example that 
euer I could see, so well maintayning this figure in English 
meetre as that ditty of her Maiesties owne making, passing 
sweete and harmonicall, which figure begins as his very original! 
name purporteth the most bewtifull and gorgious of all others, 
it asketh in reason to be reserued for a last complement, and 
desciphred by the arte of a ladies penne, her selfe beyng the 
most gorgious and bewtifull, or rather bewtie of Queenes." 

Some of the poems have reference to the suit of Anjou, the 
brother of Henry III. of France, whose visit to England in 
1581 had almost resulted in the loss of the Queen's heart. She 
was then in her forty-seventh year, and before the whole as- 
sembled court was seen to take a ring from her finger and place 
it upon his, as that of her affianced lover. On the following 
morning, however, her suitor found her anxious and weeping, and 
she then told him that on advising with her council, she had 
again made up her mind never to marry. On returning to his 
apartments the Duke, mortified and stung to the quick, is said to 
have uttered many sententious speeches on the wayward wills of 
women, and to have flung the ring of betrothal to the winds. 
He returned to France, and soon afterwards died. 

68 Stubbs loses his right hand. 

Elizabeth, wlio, as we have before mentioned, occasionally 
ventured upon composition, did not allow Anjou to depart with- 
out a poetic lamentation. In the following verses, preserved in 
the Ashmolean Collection, her feelings found vent : — 

[Ash. MS. 781, p. 142.] 
" I greive, and dare not shewe my discontent ; 
I love, and yet am forst to seeme to hate ; 
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant ; 

I seem starke mute, but inwardly do prate ; 
I am, and not ; I freese, and yet am burn'd, 
Since from myself, my other self I turn'd. 
" My care is like my shaddowe in the sunne, 
FoUowes me fliinge, flies when I pursue it ; 
Standes and lies by me, doth what I have don ; 

His too familiar care doth make me rue it : 
No meanes I finde to rid him from my brest, 
Till by the end of thinges it be supprest. 
" Some gentler passions slide into my minde, 
For I am softe, and made of melting snowe ; 
Or be more cruell, Love, and soe be kynd, 

Let me or flote, or sinke, be high or lowe : 
Or let me live with some more sweete content ; 
Or dye, and soe forget what love ere meant. 

" Eliza Regina, upon Mounzeur's departure." 

It was well for the country in every way that the marriage 
never took place. The Duke, an unamiable and selfish man, the 
degraded scion of the most infamous line of kings which has 
ever occupied the French throne, was only known to be hated, 
and the English viewed the proposed alliance with great dislike. 
Such a union must also have involved us in many political 
complications, as that of Mary with Philip of Spain had done. 
A vehement diatribe against the marriage, entitled " The Gaping 
Gulfe," was written by one John Stubbs, who afterwards 
suifered severely for his freedom. The following curious ac- 
count of his punishment is taken from Camden's " History of 
Elizabeth," book iii. p. 270 : — 

" Hereupon Stubbs & Page had their Right hands cut off with a cleaver, 
driven through the Wrist by the force of a Mallet, upon a Scaffold in the Market- 
place at Westminster. The Printer (Singleton) was pardoned. I remember 
(being there present) that when Stubbs, after his Right hand was cut off, put 
off his Hat with his Left, and said with a loud voice, 'God save the Queen !' 
the Multitude standing about was deeply silent: either out of an Horrour at 
this new and unwonted kind of Punishment ; or else out of Commiseration to- 
Avards the man, as being of an honest and unblamable Repute ; or else out of 
Hatred of the Marriage which most men presaged would be the Overthrow of 
Religion." ^ 

1 Camden describes Stubbs as " John Stubbs, of Lincoln's-Inne, a fervent 
hot-headed Professor of Religion," and states that the crown lawyers questioned 
the legality of the Act of Philip & Mary " against the Authours and Publishers 
of Seditious Writings." 

How the Queen appeared to Hentzner. 69 

It will be observed that these poets have a somewhat unifonu 
note — the virtues, beauty, and intellect of their mistress. To 
them she was 

" The fair vestal throned in the west," — 
the lady with 

-awe commanding face 

Attempered sweet to virgin grace," 

as Gray has it. Those who spoke more plainly, either as foreigners, 
or trusting their private opinions to the secrecy of a diary, could 
give a portrait of our heroine from a somewhat different point of 
view. Let us hear the account of Paul Hentzner, a German, who 
visited the country in 1598. The original is in Latin, but has 
been translated by Horace Walpole : " Next came the Queen, in 
the sixty-fifth year of her age, we are told, very majestic; her 
face oblong, fair, but wrinkled ; her eyes small, yet black and 
pleasant ; her nose a little hooked, her lips narrow, and her teeth 
black (a defect the English seem subject to, from their too great 
use of sugar) ; she had in her ears two pearls, with very rich 
drops; she wore false hair, and tliat red; upon her head she 

had a small crown, and she had on a necklace of 

exceeding fine jewels ; her hands were small, her fingers long, 
and her stature neither tall nor low; her air was stately, her 
manner of speaking mild and obliging. That day she was dressed 
in white silk, bordered with pearls of the size of beans, and over 
it a mantle of black silk, shot with silver threads ; her train was 
very long, the end of it borne by a marchioness; instead of a 
chain she had an oblong collar of gold and jewels. As she went 
along in all this state and magnificence, she spoke very graciously, 
first to one, then to another, whether foreign ministers, or those 
who attended for different reasons, in English, French, and 
Italian ; for besides being well skilled in Greek, Latin, and the 
languages I have mentioned, she is mistress of Spanish, Scotch 
{sic), and Dutch; whoever speaks to her, it is kneeling; now 
and then she raises some with her hand. While we were there, 
W. Slawata, a Bohemian baron, had letters to present to her; and 
she, after pulling off her glove, gave him her right hand to kiss, 
sparkling with rings and jewels — a mark of particular favour; 
wherever she turned her face, as she was going along, everybody 
fell down on their knees. The ladies of the court followed next 
to her, very handsome and well-shaped, and for the most part 
dressed in white. She was guarded on each side by the gentle- 
men-pensioners, fifty in number, with gilt battle-axes. In the 
ante-chapel next the hall where we were, petitions were presented 
to her, and she received them most graciously, which occasioned 

70 How the Queen appeared to Formaii. 

the exclamation of 'Long live Queen Elizabeth!' She answered 
it with, 'I thank you, my good people.' " 

No one can deny that the foreigner has left us a very vigorous 
picture of the " Great Eliza." 

The following curious memoranda, compiled by Dr. Simon 
Forman, are to be found among the Ashmolean MSS. preserved 
in the Bodleian. In them the Queen appears in a very homely 

[Ash. MS. 226, fol. 44.] 

"Anno 1597, the 23 Januaria, about 3 a.m., I dreampte that I was with the 
Queene, and that she was a lyttle elderly woman in a Corse whit peticote all 
vnredy, & she & I walked vp and downe thorowe Lanes & closes talkinge & 
reasoning of many matters ; at Last we came over a thicket close wher were 
many people, and ther were too men at hard words, and on of tliem was a 
weauer, a talle man with a raddish herd distracte of his wits, and she talked to 
him, and he spak very merily vnto her, & at Laste did take her and kyst her. 
Soe I tok her by the Armc & puld her away, & told her the fellowe was franticke, 
and soe we went from him, & I led her by the Arme still, and then we wente 
thorowe a durty lane. And she had a long whit smok, very clone and fiiire, and 
yt drailled in the durte & her cote behind, and I toke her cote & did carry yt 
vp a good waie, and then yt hunge to lowe before. And I towld her in talk she 

should do me a fauour to let me waight on her, & she said I should 

And soe we talked meryly, & then she began to lean vpon me when we were 
paste the durte, & to be veri familiar with me, and me thougbte she began to 
Loue me. And when we were Alone out of sighte me thought she wold haue 
kissed me. And with that I waked. That morninge soe sone As I was A'p, came 

1 " Lilly tells us in his autobiography that Dr. Simon Forman ' travelled into 
Holland for a month in 1580, purposely to be instructed in astrology, and other 
more occult sciences, as also in physic, taking his degree of doctor beyond seas,' 
and afterwards lived in Lambeth, with a very good report of the neighbourhood, 
especially of the poor, unto whom he was very charitable. Lilly says further, 
' he was a person that in horary questions (especially thefts) was very judicious 
and fortunate ; as also in sickness, which indeed was his master-piece.' If this 
means that he was a master in the art of secretly destroying health and life, 
a subtle practitioner in poisons, the infamous story of Lord and Lady Essex, and 
the tragedy of Sir Thomas Overbury, will sufficiently bear out the statement. 
* In resolving questions about marriage,' Lilley adds, > he had good success ; in 
other questions very moderate.' As for a remarkable memorandum which the 
doctor left behind him — 'This I made the Devil write with his own hand in 
Lambeth Fields, 1596, in June or Jul)', as I now remember' — we must be 
excused from believing the affirmation till some unexceptionable witness is 
brought forward who will swear to his infernal majesty's handwriting." — 
Knight's "London," vol. iii. p. 251. — In the paper from which this passage is 
extracted, we have a very interesting sketch of the life of Forman and other 
mountebanks of the period, notably Dee, Kelly, and Lilly — the adventures of 
the first of the three being of a highly romantic character. There are many 
MSS. in the Ashmolean Collection entirely written by Forman, one of them 
giving an account of his early life. 

Dr. Simon Forman and his philters. 71 

Mr. Sefton vnto me, to entrete me to forgive him, and see end his matter; but he 
wold not pay my charge, nor mak me Any recompense, nor haue Any man to 
heare the matter, & after moch talk I told him no, & soe w/th moch a doe we 
depfl!;'ted : ther was nothing ells fell out that Dai, but at afternone Jone mi 
sister cam to me, and I went to AA.x (Dulwich?) to the (cypher), and helth 
(cypher), quia Dominus egrotabit diu ex. mi(7htily." 

[Fol. 45.] " Then the 22 of Feb. I dreamt of the quene that she came to 
me all in black & a french bode; that dai I had Anger by Doryty and Mrs. 
Pennington, that came to me About words my man spake." ' 

Ben Jonson twice mentions this celebrated quack : 

^^Bauphine. — I would say thou hadst the best philter in the world, and couldst 
do more than madam Medea or doctor Foreman." — Silent Woman, act iv. 

"Ay, they do now name Bretnor, as before they talked of Gresham, and of 
Doctor Foreman." — The Devil is an Ass, act i. scene 2. 

^ Ash. MS. 226 is a volume consisting of several quires of paper bound to- 
gether, thus entitled by Ashmole, "Figures set upon Hoiary questions, by Mr. 
Simon Forman, 1.597, vol. 2, being his medical and astrological Practice from 
20th January, 1597, to 20 February, 1598. Forman born 1552, died 1611." — 
Ash. MS. 219 is a volume by Forman of the same description as the foregoing. 
He has recorded (fol. 53), "The words that Peter Sefton of the ston house, 
Clarke, uttered againste Simon Forman the 9th of May, 1599, with the names 
of the witnesses, and a note that he was arrested for the same;" and in Ash. 
MS. 236, another MS. of Forman's, Sefton's "matter" is brought to a close 
by a "copy of a certificate of oath mnde by Thomas Grene, Serjeant, of the 
delivery of a bond by S. Forman, for settling tlie dispute between him and Peter 
Sefton (23 May, 1599)." Occasionally he applies his astrological knowledge to 
very practical questions, as when he seeks to find out "whe[tliejr Danson will pay 
me my money the next court day " (24 Jan. 1610). 



CJ)e partfiemanes of George Puttcnftam. 

Of George Puttenliam, the antlior of tlie "Arte of English Poesie," 
1589, our records are very meagre. He was born about 1532, and 
probably died somewhere near the close of the same century. 
The poem is here printed from a Cottonian MS. If we had 
any doubts about the writer, they would certainly be removed by 
the following allusion in the above-cited work : 

"This considered, I will let one figure enioy his best beknowen 
name, and call him stil, in all ordinarie cases, the figure of com- 
parison, as when we sang of our Soueraigne Lady 

thus, in the twentieth Partheniade — 

As faulcon fares to bussardes flight," etc. 

The authorship of Puttenham was known to his contemporaries. 
Sir John Harington, in the preface to his translation of "Orlando 
Furioso" (London, 1591), alludes sarcastically to his slender 
poetical merits : " Neither do I sui:)pose it to be greatly behoofull 
for tlais purpose, to trouble you with the curious definitions of 
a Poet and Poesie, and with the subtill distinctions of their 
sundry kinds ; nor to dispute how high and supernatural the 
name of a maker is, so christened in English by that vnknowne 
godfather, that this last j'^ear save one, viz. 1589, set forth a booke 

called the Arte of English Poetrie For though the 

jDOore gentleman laboreth greatly to proue, or rather to make 
Poetrie an art, and reciteth as you may see in the plural number, 
some pluralities of patterns, and parcels of his owne Poetrie, with 
divers pieces of Partheniads and hymnes in praise of the most 
praiseworthy : yet whatsoeuer he would proue by all these, sure 
in my poore opinion he doth proue nothing more plainly, than 
that which M. Sidney and all the learneder sort that have written 
of it do pronounce, namely, that it is a gift, and not an art. I 
say he proueth it, because making himselfe and so manie others 
so cunning in the art, yet he sheweth himself so slender a gift 
in it." 

In a list of works written by Puttenham, copied by Eitson 
from a memorandum made by George Steevens out of a paper 
in the handwriting of Ben Jonson, the name Partheniades also 
occurs (see Carew Hazlitt's "Handbook of Elizabethan Litera- 
ture," p. 488). Besides these mentions, I may notice that a part 
of the poem was printed in Nichols' " Progresses of Queen 

PcuiJteniades. — The author wishes to be concealed. 73 

Elizabeth," 1823, and again in "Ancient Critical Essays," edited 
by Joseph Haslewood, 1811. It will be observed that the copy 
of the piece is not complete : at least three of the divisions being 
omitted. It was probably presented to the Queen on New 
Year's Day, 1579. In his reprint, Haslewood has not attempted 
to explain any of the difficulties which the poem contains. 

[MS. Cott. Vesp. E. viii. leaf 169.] 

The principall addresse in nature of a New yeares 
gifte, seeminge therebye the Author intended not 
to have his name knowne. 

ThSefa^ ^' GracIous Princesse, Where princes are in place 
To geue you gold, and plate, and perles of price. 
It seemeth this day, saue your royaH advice, 
Paper prsesentes should haue but little grace. 
But sithe the tyme so aptly serues the case, 5 

And, as some thinke, youre highnes takes delights 
Oft to pervse the styles of other men, 
And oft youre self, w/th Ladye Sapphoes pen, 
In sweet measures, of poesye t'endite 
The rare affectes of your hevenly sprighte, lo 

Well hopes my Muse to skape all manner blame, 
Yttringe your honours, to hyde her owners name. 

The author choosinge by his verse to honour the 
Queenes Ma/estie of England Ladye Elizabeth, 
bodily p>*eferreth his choise and the excellencye of 
the subiect before all others of anye Poet, auncient 
or moderne. 

c"o*?|_^'Greeke Achilles and his peeres did enioye 

Greate Homers troompe, for theyr high valiaunce. 

And Maro woulde in stately stile advaunce 15 

^neas, and that noble reste of Troye. 

In martial moodes Lucane did singe the chaunce, 

Ende and pursute of that lamented warre 

Of proude allyes, whose envy spredd so farre, 

As exilde Roome all egall governaunce. 20 

Horace honourd August, the highest of names, 
And yet his harte from Mecene neuer swerude. 

74 Parth. — The Queen supremely blest, with two exceptions. 

Ovide helde trayne in Yeiius courte, and serude 
Cheife secretarye to all those noble Dames, 
Martyres of loue, who so broylde in his flames 25 

As both thej^r trauth and penance well deserude 
All in fine gold to haue theyr image kerude, 
For cleere recorde of theyr most woorthy fames. 

By the brighte beames of Cynthia, the sheene, [if.i69.bk.] 

Cupide kendled the fyres of properse/ 30 

Tibullus teares baj^ned ^ Neoeras herse, 

And ladye Laura, her graces that grow greene, 

By Dan Petrarche, of Tuskan poets prince. 

Anacreon sange all in his wanton spleene ; 

But proude Pindare, he spilde the praises cleene 35 

Of all Liricques that were before or since. 

I singe noe bloodd, nor battayles in my verse, 

Amorous odes, or elegies in teene,^ 

Churlishe satire, as Juvenall and Perse;* 

But in chast style am borne, as I weene, 40 

To blazon foorthe the briton mayden Queene,^ 

Whose woorthes surmount them all that they reherse. 

That her Ma^Vstie (twoo thinges except) hath all 
the partes that iustly make to be sayd a most happy 
creature in this world. 


Eratof'*' JL outhfull bcwtyc, in body well disposed ; 
Louelye fauoure, that age cannot deface ; 
A noble harte, where nature hath inclosed 45 

The fruitfull seedes of all vertue and grace ; 
Begall estate, coucht in the treble crowne, 
Ancestrell all, by linage and by right ; 
Store of treasures, honour and iust renowne ; 
In quiet raigne, a sure redouted mig[h]t ; 50 

Fast frindes, foes few or faint, or overthrowen ; 
The stranger toonges, and the harts of her owne : 

1 Propertius. ^ Bathed, Fr. baigner. 

3 Grief, spite, *■ Persius. 

* A favourite epithet of Elizabeth among the poets of the period. 

Parth. — She has a serpent's head and angel's face. 75 

Breife ; both nature and nourriture haue doone, 
With fortunes helpe, what in their cu;ming is 
To yelde the erth, a Princely e paragon. 55 

Eut had shee, oh ! the two iojs shee doth misse — 
A Cesar to her husband, a Kinge to her soone — 
What lackt her highnes then to all erthly blisse ? 

[If. 170 ] That her Ma^Vstie surmounteth all the Princesses 

of our tyme in wisedome, bewtye, and magnauimitye, 
and ys a thinge verye admirable in nature. 

ThaUa.'*' Whome Princes serve, and Realmes obay, 

And greatest of Bryton kinges begott, 60 

Shee came abroade even yesterday, 
When such as saw her knew her not ; 
For one woold ween that stoode a farre 
She were as other weemen arre. 

In trauthe it fares much otherwise : 65 

For whilest they thinke they see a Queene, 

It comes to passe ye can devise 

No stranger sight for to bee seene ; 

Suche erroure falls in feble eye 

That cannot view her stedfastlye. 70 

How so ? alas ! forsooth it is, 

Nature, that seldome woorkes amis, 

In woman's brest by passinge arte 

Hath harbourd safe the Lyons harte, 

And featlye fixt, with all good grace, 75 

The serpentes hedd and angells face. 

That wisedome in a princesse is to be preferred 
before bewtye, riches, honour, or puissaunce; but 
where all the partes concure in one p(?rson, as they 
doe moste evidently in her Ma?Vstie, the same is not 
to be reputed an humane, but rather a diuine per- 

Melpo-' ^ The Phrigian youth, full ill advised, 
To iudge betweene goddesses thre, 


76 Parth. — The pod can hardly write of her heauty. 

All worldly wealth and witt despised, 

And gaue the price to cleere beawtee : 80 

His meede therfore was to win grace [if.nobkj 

Of Venus, and her louinge race. 

The wandring prime and Knightes of Troye, 

Who first broughte bale to Tyrian towne, 
^ Coulde never finde comforte or ioye 85 

'* While Juno did vppon them frowne : 

Hir wrathe appeased, they purchaste reste, 

An Lavine lande theire owne beheste. 

I am not rapte in Junoes spheare, 

Nor with dame Venus louelye hewe ; 90 

But here one earthe I serue and feare, 

O raayde Minerue, thine ydoU true, 

W[h]ose power preuayles in warr and peace, 

So as thy raigne can no tyme cease. 

The addresse. 

Princesse, yee haue the doome ^ that I can giue. 
But seldome sitts the iudge that may not erre ; 
Whence, to be sure, I haue vowed while I Hue, 
T' addore all three godheads in your own starre. 

That vertue ys alwayes subiect to envy and many 
times to perill ; and yf her Ma/^.sties most notable 
prosperities haue ever beene maligned, the same 
hath beene for her only vertues sake. 

Parthe : 

Fayre Britton maye,^ 95 

Wary and wise in all thy wayes, 

Never seekinge nor finding peere. 

When ere thy happe shalbe to heere 

My mouth be muet in thy prayse 

But one whole daye, 100 

Sweare by thine head, ^"- '^^-^ 

And thy three crownes, it must needes bee 

Whilest I admire thy rare bewtye 

I am forspoke, in spite of thee. 

By some disdaynefull curst feyrye, 105 

Or sicke, or dead. 

Judgment. ' Maid. 

Tarth. — He has a vision of the Queen. 77 

But while thy mighte 

Can keepe my harte queavinge^ or quicke, 

Trust me my lippes shall neuer lenne'^ 

To power thye prayses to my penne, 110 

TiU all thy foes be sorrowe sicke 

Or dead out right. 

They saye not soothe 

Of grace and goodnes that mainetayne 

Them to be thinges so safe, so louelye ; IIB 

I see nothinge vnder the skie 

Abide suche daunger and disdaine 

As vertue doothe. 

Then, if theyr bee 

Any so canckred harte to grutche' 120 

At your gloryes, my Queene, in vayne, 

Repininge at your fatall raigne, 

It is for that they feele to muche 

Of your bountee. 

E?uwpe.^ ^ ryddle of the Princesse Paragon.* 

I saw marche in a meadowe greene 125 

A fayrer wight then feirye Queene ; 

And as I woulde approche her neere, 

Her head ys shone like Christall eleere ; 

Of silver was her forehead hye, 

Her browes two bowes of Henevye;^ 130 

Her tresses troust were to beholde, 

Frizeld and fine as frenge of gold ; 

Her eyes, god wott what stufFe they arre, 

I durst be sworne eche ys a starre, 

As eleere and brighte as to guide 135 

The pilot in his winter tide ; 

Twoo lippes wroughte out of rub5'e rocke, 

Like leaues to shutt and to vnlocke, 

* Quavin», shaking. Cf. quaver. 2 Lend, A,S. lene. 
^ Grieve, envy, grumble. 

* " Specially of faire -women whose excellencie is discouered by paragonizing, 
or setting one to another, which moued the zealous Poet, speaking of the mayden 
Queene, to call her the paragon of Queenes."— Puttenham's Art of Eng. Poesie. 
Of Ornament, Lit. III. s Ebony. 


8 Parth. — She is like a goodly cedar. 

As portall doore in princes chamber ; 

A golden toonge in month of amber, 140 

That oft ys hard, but none yt seethe ; 

W/thout a garde of yvorye teethe, 

Even arrayed, and richelye, all 

In skarlett, or in fine corrall ; 

Hercheeke, her chinne, her neck, her nose, 145 

This was a lill}" e, that was a rose ; 

Her hande so white as whales bone. 

Her finger tipt w/th Cassidone ; ^ 

Her bosome, sleeke as Paris plaster, 

Held vpp twoo bowles of Alabaster ; 150 

Ech byas was a little cherrye, 

Or as I thinke a strawberry e ; 

A slender greve,^ swifter then Roe, 

A pretye foote to trippe and goe, 

But of a solemne pace perdye, 155 

And marchinge w/tA a raaiestye ; 

Her bod}^ shapte as strayghte as shafte, 

Disclosed eche limbe w/th-outen craft, 

Saue shadowed all, as I could gesse, 

Vnder a yayle of silke Cypresse, 160 

From toppe to toe yee mighte her see 

Timberd and tall as Cedar tree, 

Whose statelye turfe exceedeth farre 

AH that in frithe ^ and forrest arre. 

This markt I well, but loe an one, [if. m.] 1C5 

Me thought all like a lumpe of stone — 

The stone that doth the Steele enchaunte 

The dreadfull rocke of Adamante, 

And woorkes the shippe, as authors speake. 

In salt sea manye a wofull wreake — 170 

Her hart was hidd, none might yt see. 

Marble or flinte folke weene yt bee ; 

Not flint I trowe, I am a Iyer, 

But Syderite^ that feeles noe fier. 

Now reed aright, and do not mis, 175 

"What iolly'^ dame this ladye is. 

' Cassidony, a kind of precious stone. ^ Old French greve, the shin. 

2 A wood : the word occurs in Chaucer. * The loadstone. 

* The old Spenserian use of the word — 

" Full iolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt, 
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt." 

— Faerie Queene, book i. canto 1. 

Tar til. — ^he is wise, nffahle, and chaste. 79 

The assoile.^ 

This fleshe and bloode, this head, members and harte, 
These lively lookes, graces, and bewty sheene, 
Make but one masse, by nature and by arte 
Hare to the earth, rathe to the worlde seene : 180 

Would yee faine knowe her name and see your parte ? 
Hye, and beholde a while the mayden Queene ! 

The assoile at large, moralized in three DIzaynes. 

Thalia^' ^' ^ ^^^ harbrouglie - of all counsayle and witt, 

Where science dwells makinge a liuely sprighte, 
And dame discourse, as in her castell sitt, 185 

Scanninge causes by minde and by forsighte ; 
A cheere Where Looue and maiestye doe raigne 
Both mild and sterne, having some secret mighte ; 
Twixte hope and dreede, in woe, and w/th delighte, 
Mans harte in holde, and eye for to deta^'ne ; 190 

Feedinge the one with sighte in sweete desyre, 
Dauntinge thother, by daunger to aspire. 

Affable grace, speeche eloquent and wise, 

Stately praesence, suche as becometh one 

Whoe seemes to rule realmes by her lookes alone, [172 bk.] 

And hathe what ells dame Nature coolde devise 196 

To frame a face and corsage paragon, 

Suche as these blessed sprightes of paradise 

Are woonte to assume, or suche as lovers weene 

They see sometimes in sleepe and dainty dreame, 200 

In femall forme a goddesse, and noe Queene, 

Fitter to rule a worlde then a realme. 

A constante mynde, a courage chaste and colde, 
Where loue logget^ not, nor loue hathe any powres; 
Not Venus brandes, nor Cupide can take holde, 205 
Nor speeche prevayle, teares, plainte purple or golde, 
Honoure, nempire, nor youthe in all his flowers, 
This wott ye all full well yf I do lye : 

^ " The assoile," absolution, i.e. as we now say of a riddle, the solution ; a 
favourite word with Puttenham. 

^ Ahead; the harbour or lodging. ' Lndgeth. 

80 PartJi. — The vision of the flower. 

Kinges and kinges peeres, who haue soughte farre 

and nye, 
But all in vayne, to bee her paramoures, 210 

Since twoo Capetts/ three Cezaimes'-^ assay de, 
And bidd^ repulse of the great Britton Mayde. 

A verye strange and rufull vision presented to 
the authoure, the interpretation wherof was left to 
her Ma/fstie till by the purpose discovered. 

(Parthe:9.) jj^ fruitfull soylc beholdo a flower sproonge, 
Distayninge golde, rubyes, and y vorye ; 
Three buddes yt bare, three stalkes, tender and younge, 
One moare middle earthe, one toppe that touche the 
skye, 21 G 

Under the leaues, one branches brade and hye, 
Millions of birds sange shrowded in the shade ; 
I came anone, and sawe w/th weepinge eye 
Twoo blossoms falne, the thirde began to fade, 220 
So as, w/thin the compas of an houre, 
Sore withered was this noble deintye flowre. 
That noe soyle bredd, nor lande shall loose the like, 
Ne no seazon or soone or sokinge showre [,f jy^j 

Can reare agayne for prayer ne for meede. 225 

" Woe and alas ! " the people crye and shrike,^ 
"Why fades this flower, and leaues noe fruit nor seede?" 

cahiope.'"' Another vision happned to the same authoure 
as Comfortable and recreatyve as the former was 

A royall shippe I sawe by tyde and by winde, 
Single and sayle in sea as sweet as milke ; 

1 " Since twoo Capetts." Lingard, vol. vi. p. 31, has given us a list of the 
Buitors for the hand of Elizaheth. The two Capets were the Duke of Anjou and 
his jounger brother, the Duke of Alen9on. 

* Probably a slip of the pen for Cezarins. Perhaps the allusion is to Philip I. 
of Spain, who had previously married her sister Mary. His son, the mad 
Don (.'arlos, who seems to have been proposed as her husband ; John Emmanuel 
Philibert, Duke of Savoy, who was a scion of the Imperial House; or perhaps 
the Archduke Charles, the third and youngest son of the Emperor Ferdinand I. ; 
may be meant. Of the last Coxe says (History of the House of Austria, ed. 1810, 
vol. ii.) : ''He was also a candidate for the hand of Elizabeth of England, and 
like other princes was disappointed by her maiden coyness, or independent spirit." 
lie certainly did not make his appearance in England, like Anjou, only to under- 
go the indignity of a public rejection. 

3 Invited. * Shriek. 

Parth. — The vision of the aJiip. 81 

Her Cedar keele, her mast of gold refined, 230 

Her takle and sayles as silver and silke, 

Her frauglite more woortlie then all the wares of Inde ; 

Cleere was the coaste, the wanes were smooth and still, 

The skyes al calme, Phoebus so brighte he shined ; 

^^olus in poope gaue her wether at will ; 235 

Dan Neptune stered, while Proteus playde his sporte, 

And Neraeus deinty dauters sange full shrill, 

To slise her sayles, that they mighte swell theyr fill ; 

Jove from aboue his pleasant showers powrde ; 

Her flagge, it beares the flowers of mans comforte: 240 

None but a kinge or more maye her abourde ; 

gallant peece, well will the Lillye afoorde 

Thow strike mizzen and anker in his porte ! 

That her Ma/esties most woorthye renowne can 
not perishe while the worlde shall laste, with cer- 
tayne philosophicall opinions touchinge the begin- 
ninge and durabilitye of the worlde. 

v;aml;"0 mightye Muse ! 

The mignionst^ mayde of mounte Parnasse, 245 

Ever verdurde w/th flowre and grasse 

Of sundrye hews, 

Saye, and not misse, 

How longe agone and whence yt was 

The fayre rounde worlde first came to passe 250 

As yt now ys ? 

There be that saye i^j^j ^^ ^ 

How yt was never otherwise 

Then as wee see it w/th our eyes 

This very daye ; 255 

There bee agayne 

A secte of men, somewhat precise, 

Beleeue a godd did yt devise, 

And not in vayne. 

Nor longe agone, 260 

Onel}'' to serue Adam's linage 
Some little while as for a stage 
To playe vpon ; 

' r. miffnon. 

82 Parth. — PuttenJuun^ pMlomphy . 

And by despighte 

One daye agaj^ne will in Lis rage 265 

Cruslie it all as a kicson cage^ 

And spill it quite. 

Some weene it must^ 

Come by recourse of praty moates, 

Farr finer then the smallest groates 270 

Of sand or dust 

That swarme in sonne, 

Clinoiiicre as faste as little clotes^ 

Or burres vppon younge children's cotes 

That slise and runne. 275 

Other suppose 

A vov'i approcht, and by reason 

Brought it to shape and to season 

From a Chaos ; 

But some tech vs, 280 

By jjlayne proofes, whye yt were begone ; 

Nor never more shalbe vndone, 

But byde even thus, 

"Whoorlinge his whott* [if. it*.] 

And endlesse roundelP w/th a tlirowe, 2b5 

Swifter then shaft out of a bowe, 

Or cannon shott. 

bootlesse carke 

Of mortall men search inge to knowe, 

Or this or that, since he must rowe 290 

The doleful! barke 

1 Query kecky, hollow. See Halliwell's Dictionary. 

* Puttenham is here displaying to some advantage his attainments in philo- 
sophy. It was Anaxagoras wlio considered vovs to be the primary cause of all 
tilings, and in order to explain the creation of all existing things, Democritus 
maintained that there were in infinite space an infinite number of atoms or 
elementary particles, homogeneous in quality, but heterogeneous in form. He 
further taught that these atoms combine with one another, and that all things 
arise from the infinite variety of the form, order and position of the atoms in 
forming combinations. The cause of these combinations he called chance irvxrf), 
in opposition to the vovs of Anaxagoras. — Dr. Smith's "Classical Dictionary." 

^ A.S. elate, a bur sticking to man's clothes, the cloth bur (Somner in Bosworth). 
" Clote, herbe. Lappa bardana, C. F. lappa rotunda (glis, P.)." — Promptorium. 
See Dr. Prior's "Popular Names of British Plants:" " Clot-bur, the bur-dock.'' 

* "Whirling his ? 

* '■'Rundle or roundel (in heraldry), the figure of a round ball or bullet." — 

Parfh. — The Queen catahlifilies religion, 83 

Which Charon guydes, 

Fraught ful of shadows colde and starke, 

That ferrye to the coontryes darke, 

Tendinge theyr tydes ! 295 

Since stoute nor stronge 

Metall, nor moulde of worldlj^e warke, 

Nor writt of any cunninge clarke, 

Can last soe longe 

To outlast the skye. 300 

Honour, empire, nor erthly name, 
Save my princesse most woorthye fame. 
Which cannot dye ! 

Purpose. Howe twoo principall exploytes of her Ma?>stie 

since shee came to the crowne — to weete, establish- 
ment of religion and peace — doe assuredly promise 
her in this life a most prosperous raigne and after 
her death a woorthye and longe lastinge name. 

What causes mooved so many forreinge Princes 
to bee sutours to her Ma/estie for mariage, and 
what by coniecture hath hitherto mooved her to 
refuse them all. 

vralliI;'"'^ot youre bewty, most gratious soveraigne,^ m^tbk.] 
Nor maydenly lookes, mayntaynde w/th Maiestye, 305 
Your stately porte, wA/ch dothe not matche but stayne ; 
For your Pallas, your presence, and your trayne, 
All Princes courtes, myne eye coulde ever see. 
Not your quicke witts, your sober governance. 
Your cleer forsighte, your fayt[h]full memorye, 310 
So sweete features in soe stayed countenance ; 
Nor languages w/tA plenteous vtterance, 
So able to discourse and entertayne. 

Not noble race, farre beyonde Cesars raigne 

Runne in right line, and bloode of noynted Kinges ; 315 

Not large empire, armyes, treasures, domayne, 

Lustye liuries, of fortunes deerst derlinges ; 

Not all the skills fitt for a princely e dame, 

Your lerned Muse w(th youth and studye bringes ; 

84 Parth. — He regrets that the Queen will not marry. 

Not true honoure, ne that immortall fame 320 

Of mayden raigne, your onelye owne renowne, 
And noe Queenes ells, yet suche as yeeldes youre name 
Greater glorye then dooth your treble erowne. 

Not any one of all these honourde partes, 

Youre princely happs and habites that doe move, 325 

Or, as it were, enforced all the hartes 

Of Christen Kinges to quarrell for your love ; 

But to possesse at once and all the goode 

Arte and engyn,^ and every starre above 

Fortune or kinde coolde farce- in fleshe and bloode, 330 

"Was force ynoughe to make so many strive 

For your person, Who in our worlde stoode 

By all consents the mignonst mayde to wiue. 

But now (saye the}') what crueltye coold dryue [if. 175.] 

By such repulse your harte harder then stone 335 

So many hopes of princes to depriue ? 

Forsoothe, \^'hat guyftes God from his regall throne 

Was woont to deale by righte distributyue ; 

Share meale to eche, not all to anye one ; 

peerles yow ! or ells no one alive, 340 
Your pride serves you to seize them all alone ; 

Not pride, Madame, but prayse of your lyon 
To conquer all, an[d] be conquerd by none. 

Purpose. Conteininge a resolution politique touchinge the 

feminyne gover[n]ment in Monarchye w/th a de- 
fensive of her Ma/fsties honoure and constancye for 
not enclininge her courage (after the example of 
other ordinarj^e weemen), nor yet to the appetite of 
most greate princes, eyther in the affayre of her 
Mariage or of her manner of regyment. 

What thinges in nature, cowmon reason, and 
cyvill pollicye goe so faste linked together as 
they maye not easilye bee soonedred w/thout 
preiudice to the politike bodye, whatsoever evill or 
absurditye seeme in them. 

1 Skill, cunning. » Stuff. 

Partli. — Truth jireacJied. 85 

ThaUa'^'^^'Pi'incesse, my Muse thought not amys 

To enforrae your noble mynde of this ; 345 

Sythens yee see all wordlye men, 

How they runn ryott now and then, 

By mistakiuge and want of sence 

In thinges of little consequence, 

Truly discerned as they maye bee 350 

By one of royall Maiestie, 

And deepe discourse and earnest zeale, 

As yours is for all our weale, 

Or ells it maj^e full oft befall, 

For thinges of no moment at all, 355 

Discorde maye grow by braule and iarre, 

Thence faction, thence cyvile warre. 

Which, when the popular brayne ys woodd,^ ^if, 170 bk.] 

Coold not be stauncht w/th-outen bloodd ; 

And now betymes ye may prevente, 360 

By this humble advertismente, 

Shewinge the soowmie and points in cheefe, 

That wholly make and marre this greefe ; 

Remove misterye from religion. 

From godly feare all superstition, 365 

Idolatrye from deepe devotion, 

Vulgare woorshippe from worldes promotion, 

Take me from hallows ceremonye, 

From sects errours, from Sayntes hyppocrisye. 

Orders and habites from graduates and clerkes, 370 

Penaunce from sinne, and merite from goode werkes ; 

Pull people and theyr prince asoonder, 

From games to gaze at and miracle to woonder ; 

Forbidde pesauntes theyr countrye sporte, 

Preache all trothe to the raskall sorte,^ 375 

Pull prophane powles out of all yoke ; ^ 

1 Mad. 

* Eascals, low people, the refuse. 

^ St. Paul's was the great preaching place of London, and yet was made the 
resort of gallants and vicious characters. See in Dekker's GuWs Hornbook the 
chapter "How a gallant should hehave himself in Paul's "Walks," and The 
Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie ; or. The Walkes in Powles, 1604 (Percy 
Society, 1841), etc., etc. The "out of all yoke" doubtless refers to Elizabeth's 
only allowing "Established" ministers to preach. Dekker says: "He that 
would strive to fashion his legs to his silk stockings, and his proud gait to his 
broad garters, let him whiff down these observations ; for if he once get to walk 
by the book, and I see nn reason but he may, as well as fight by the book, 
Pauls may be proud of him." 

86 Parth. — Many things requisite for ornament. 

Let popular preachers beare a stroke ; 

Remoue rigour from humane laws, 

Credulitye from prophetts saws ; 

Let reason range beyonde his creede, 380 

Mans fay the lauguishe nor couscien[c]e bleede; 

Make from olde reliques reverence, 

From publique shews magnificence ; 

Take solemne vows from Princes leagues, 

From sanctuary privileage ; 385 

Take me from publique testimonye, 

Book oathe by trouthe or periurye ; 

Take pompe from prelates, and maiestie from Kinges, 

Solemne circumstance from all these wordly thinges. 

We walke awrye and wander w/thout lighte, 390 

Confoundinge all to make a Chaos quite. 

Purpose. Conteinynge an invective agaynste the puritanes, 

w/th singular co?;?mendac/on of her Ma^Vsties con- 
syderate iudgment and manner of proceedinge in 
the cause of religion. The daunger of innovations 
in a common welth, the poison of sectaryes, and 
perillous yt ys to shake religion at y® roote by 
licentious disputes and doctrines. 

[] That amonge men many thinges be allowed 

of necessitye, many for ornam^';?t, w/^?'ch cannot 
be misliked, nor well spared w/thout blemishe to 
the cyvile life. 

Calliope!* I^eny honoure to dignitye, 

And triumphe to iust victorye ; 

Pull puisance ivoni soverayntee, 

And creditt from authoritee ; 395 

Set magistrate fro countena;?ce. 

Part veritye and false se;>^blance, 

Wronge and force from invasion, 

Fayned speeches from persuasion ; 

Take hartye love from ielosye, 400 

And fraude from cyvile pollicye ; 

Moorninge and doles from buryalls, 

And obsequies from funeralls ; 

From holy dayes, and fro weddinges, 

Partlt. — He attacks (he Puritans. 87 

Minstrells and feasts and robes and ringes ; 405 

Take fro Kinges Courtes intertaynmentes, 
From Ladyes riche habillimentes, 
From cour[t]ly girles gorgious geare, 
From banquetts mirthe and wanton cheare ; 
Pull out of clothe and comelye weede 410 

The nakt carcas of Adames seede ; 
From worldlye thinges take vanitee, 
Sleit, semblant, course, order and degree : 
Princesse, yt ys as if one take awaye 
Greene wooddes from forrests, and sunne- shine fro the 
daye. 415 

Purpose. Agaynste the same Puritantes a desive^ of Cour- 

tiers and all auncyent Courtly vsages, devised as 
well for the publique intertaynements as for other 
private solaces and disportes not scandalously evill 
or vicious. 

That her Ma?'(?stie is the onlye paragon of princes 
in this oure age. 

Builde me of bowghes a little bower, 

And sett it by a statelye tower ; 

Set me a new robe by an olde. 

And course coppar by duckate golde ; 

An ape vnto an elephante, 420 

Bruckle bryall to diamante ;2 

Set Naples courser to an asse,^ [i76bk.] 

Fine eraerawde vnto greene glasse ; 

Set rich rubye to redd emayle. 

The ravans plume to peacockes tayle ; 425 

Laye me the larkes to the lysardes eye, 

The duskye clowde to azure skye ; 

Sett shallow brookes to surginge seas, 

An orient pearle to a white pease ; 

Matche Camells hayre to satten silke, 430 

And allocs w/th almounde milke ; 

' sic. Que!-!/ an error for device. 

* Brittle beryl to diamond. 

2 The Neapolitan horses must have been choice cues. 

88 Parth. — The poet is afraid that he flatters too much. 

Compare perrye to Nectar wyne, 

Juniper bush to lofty pine : 

There shall no less an oddes be seene 

In myne from everye other Queene. 435 

Purpose. ]3y ^]jg generall commendac/on of her Ma?Vstie in 

the hihest degree of prayse, The author sheweth 
the yertue and envyous nature of a paragon, and 
how excellencye cannot appeere but b}^ comparison. 

A comparison she win ge her Ma/esties super- 
excellencye in all regall vertues. 

Eutelpe!^ As faulcon fares to bussardes flighte, 
As egles eyes to owlatts sighte, 
As fierc saker^ to kowarde kighte, 
As britest noone to darkest nighte, 
As amerike is farre from easte, 440 

As Ij'ons lookes fears everye bcaste, 
As soommer soonne exceed eth farre 
The moone and everye other starre : 
So farre my princes prayse doth passe 
The famoust Queene that ever was. 445 

Purpose. ^^ prayse by resemblance ys voyde of offence ; 

that by comparison odious be in the superlative (be 
it never soe true), it savoureth a certayne grosse 
adulation w///ch being to her Ma^Vsties naturall 
modestye nothinge agreeable, the authoure seeketh 
to salve the sore of her opinion and his suspected 
sentence by tempringe the excesse w/th a pretye 
difference made betweene a bare resemblance and a 

[*if. 177.] co;??parison *drawne out of the principles of iustice, 
as yf one should saye the prayse that ys iustlye given 
ys well given, and ought not to be misliked, thoughe 
yt surmounte the cow^mow credite and opinion. 

An hymne or divine prayse, vnder the title of 
the goddesse Pallas, settinge foorthe hir vamesiies 
commendac/on for hir wisedome and glorious 
governement in the single lief. 

^ The peregrine falcon. 

Par Ut.— The Queen a Minerva. 89 

O Pallas, Goddesse soverayne, 

Bredd out of great Jupiters brayne, 

That thoughe thou be no man mervells, 

All honoure and witt and nothinge ells ; 

Thow that ner was widowe ne wife, 450 

But a true virgin all thy life, 

Be it for some rare p/vsidente 

Of all feminyne gover[n]mente, 

Or that thow trowe no godd above 

Was ever woorthye of thye love ; 455 

Thou that rangest battayles in fielde, 

And bearest harnesse, speare, and shielde, 

And in thine vniversitye. 

The peacefull branche of Olyve tree, 

Lendinge out of th3me endlesse store 460 

All mortall men both law and lore : 

Goddesse, as we poore pilgriraes weene, 

Of spinsters, and of Poets Queene, 

And therfore hast in solempne wise 

Thy temples and thy sacriiise, 465 

Thine hiranes, thy vowes, thy noones, thy clerkes, 

And all that longes to holye werktfs, 

The whole wide worlde for them to dwell, 

And Athens for thye chief chappell ; 

But now twentye yeare agon, 470 

Forsakinge Greece for Albion,^ 

Where thow alone doost rule and raygne, 

Empresse and Queene of great brittrayne, 

Leavinge thye lande, thye Bellsire^ wan. 

Too the barbarous Ottoman, 475 

And for grief chaunged thy holy hawnte [i77bk.] 

Of mount Parnasse to Troynovaunte ;^ 

All Atticke showres for tems to sydes,^ 

Tems easy for hys easye tydes. 

Built all alonge w/th mannours riche, 480 

Quinborow^ salt sea, brackish Greene wich ; 

1 This, probably, marks the date of the poem, viz, 1578, as Elizabeth came 
to the thrciiie in 15o8. 

2 Beau sire, pmbably Jupiter. 

' The old mythical name of London. See Geoffrey of Monmouth, 

* Thames's two sides or shores. 

* Quinborough = Queenborough, an ancient but poor town of Kent, in the 
Isle of Sheppey, situated at the mouth of the river Medway It is fifteen 

90 ' Parfh. — The Royal Progresses. 

Then that where Britton raygne begone, 

The Tower of louely Londone, 

Westminster old and new Pallace, 

Richeraounte not great but gorgias ; 485 

Huge Hampton court, y* hath no peere 

For stately roomes and turretts cleere, 

Save Windsor sett on Barock^.s border/ 

That temple of thye noble order, 

The garter of a lovely dame, 490 

W///ch gave yt first device and name : — 

O ladye, hence to hethennesse, 

Only vmpire of warre and peace. 

When cityes, states, countrj^es, and kinges 

Creepe to y*' covert of thye winges ; 495 

Thow y* canst dawnt thj^e forren foes. 

To ridde thye realme of warre and woes, 

Purchasing peace w/thout battayle, 

So firrae an one as cannot fajde ; 

Thy iyvae not yet in tyme to bee, 500 

By any signe that man may see ; — 

Thow that besj'des forreyne afFayres 

Canst tend to make yerely repayres, 

By sowmer progressed and by sporte 

To shire, and towne, Citye, and porte, 505 

To view and compasse all thye lande, 

And take the bills w/th thine owne hande 

Of clowne and carle, of knight and swaj^ne, 

Who list to thee for right complayne. 

And therin dost such iustice yeelde, sio 

As in thye sexe folke see but seelde, 

And thus to doe arte lesse afrayde 

W/th houshould trayne, a syllye mayde. 

Then thyne auncetours one of tenne 

Durst do w/tA troopes of armed men ; — 515 

Thow that canst tende to reade and write, ^''- '''^•^ 

Dispute, declame, Argewe, endyte 

In schoole and vniversitye, 

miles N.W. of Canterbury and forty-three E. of London. — Gazetteer, 1801. Here 
a castle was originally built by Kdward III. in honour of his wife Philippa. 

^ Barockes border, i.e. Berkshire. 

' See Nichols's " Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth," 
1st ed. 1788-1807, or 2nd ed. 1823, 3 vols., 4to.; and Laneham's Letter, 1575, 
edited by F. J. Furnivall, Esq., for the Ballad Society. 

PartJi. — Iler Majcsti/'s scholarship. 91 

In prose, and eke in poesye, 

In greek, latine, and fine tiiskan, 520 

In frenche, and in Castillian, 

So kindlye and quicke as old and younge^ 

May double w/^/ch j's the mother tounge : — 

thoWj the lovely majxle above, 

"Who hast conquerd the god of love, 525 

And skapte his mother suttle g^-nne, 

Triumphed one him and all his kinne ; — 

Yf thou be all ys sayde afore, 

Or yf thou be a great deale more 

Then I can vtter any wayes, 530 

Not schiphringe- thee of ihye iust prayse ; 

How longe ys yt ere we forgett 

Thyne erthly name ELIZABET, 

And dresse the as thou dost deserve. 

The titles of Britton Minerve ? 535 

In skye why stall we not thye starre 

Fast by the syde of great Cesar ? 

Or ells apoynt thy plannett where 

Shines Berenices golden heare? 

For we suppose thou hast forswore 54O 

To matche w/t/i man for evermore. 

Whye build we not thye temples hye, 

Steples and towers to touch the skye, 

Bestrewe thine altars w/th flowers thicke, 

Sence them w/th odours arrabicque, 545 

Perfuminge all the revestryes^ 

With muske, Cyvett, and Ambergries, 

In thy feast dayes to singe and dawnce 

'Wiih lively leps and countenance, 

And twise stoope downe at everye leape 550 

To kisse the shadow of thy foot-stepe, 

Thy lyvinge Ymage to adore, 

Yealding the all earthly honour : 

Not earthly e, no, but all divyne, 

Takinge for me thys hj^mne of myne ! 555 

> See Paul Hentzner's account of the Queen's linguistic studies, which (all 
flattery deducted) appear to have been considerable. 

^ Qiienj A.S. sctj]), a shred; or the Promptoiium "Schyvere (slice) of brede or 
o\n lyke. Lesca, scinda, Schyveryn or ryvyn a-sund}T. Crepo." 

^ The place in a church where the priest revested himself, or put on the sacred 
garments. It has been contracted into vestry. 


OBli^atJetf) lorn ^aue, 

[Rawl. MS. 185, fol. 13.] 

3 proper neto tiallatie, tofjercin is plainc to be seene 
f)0U) gon tJlessetfi englann for loue of o^^ Ciueene* 

SouNG TO Y^ TUNE OF farkfotis caroJl} 

London, london, singe and praise thy lord ! 

let en glands Icy be seene ; 
Trew subiects, quickly shew, w^i one accorde, 

yo»' loue vnto yo»' queene 
Elizabeth so hraue, 

1 Richard Tarleton, the well-known jester and mountebank of the times of 
Elizabeth. The reputation of Tarleton is shown by the following lines in the 
Moral Play of the Marriage of Wit and Science : " One of the allegorical 
cliaracters, Will, afterwards takes a 'picture' out of the Clown's basket, and asks 
whom it represents. Simplicity replies that it is Tarlton, which is followed by 
the question, 'What, was that Tarlton?' Simplicity then informs him that 
Tarlton was originally a water-bearer, adding — 
' 0, it was a fine fellow as ere was borne ! 

There never will come his like while the earth can corne. 

0, passing fine Tarlton ! I would thou hadst lived yet . . . 

But it was the merrriest fellow, that had such jestes in store, 

That if thou hadst seene him thou wouldst have laughed thy hart snre.' 
His death occurred on the 3rd of September, 1588." (See Collier's " History of 
the Stage," ii. 3.51. London, 1851.) 

The reader will find a woodcut of Tarlton (the orthography of the name seems 
uncertain) placing upon his pipe and drum in the "Book of Roxburghe Ballads " 
edited by Mr. Collier (1847). The entry of his burial may be found in the register 
of St. Leonard's, Shoreditch. It is conjectured that he died of the plague. His 
"Jests" appear to have been frequently reprinted, and entitle him to the reputa- 
tion of the Joe Miller of his time. Thus we have " Tarlton's lests, drawne 
into these three parts — 

1. His Court-witty Tests. 

2. His Sound-city lests. 

3. His Countrey-pretty lests. 

Full of Delight, Wit, and Honest Mirth. London, printed by I. H., 1611." 
This book has been reprinted for the Shakspere Society (see Carew Hazlitt's 
" Handbook "). Also "A newe booke in English verse, entitled Tarlton's Toyes, 
Licensed to Richard Jones, Dec. 10, 1576." And lastly, to close the scene, 
" A Sorrowful newe Sonnette, Intituled Tarlton's Recantation uppon this theame 
gyven him by a Gent, at the Belsavage without Ludgate (nowe or ells never) 
beinge the last theame he snnge. Licensed to Henrie Kyrkham. ij die Auguste, 
lo89," and "A pleasant Dyttye Dialogue wise betweene Tarlton's Ghost and 
Robyn Good Fellowe. Licensed to Heny. Carre, xx° die Auguste, 1590." 

The Spanish Spite. d'6 

AVhose vertuea rare beseeme her well, 6 

from all y® world she beares y^ bell ; 
her dew deserts no toung can tell, 

Her se/fe she doth bchaue, 
That all y'' world doth marvell much 
How nature should frame anie such, 
of vice none lyving can her tuch.^ 12 

For Justice lust, for grace and pittie both, 

no Realme hath had her like ; 
She pardons them full oft y* would be loth 

to hold if they durst strike, — 
Elizabeth lord saue. 
She is y'' luell makes vs glade, 18 

a greater good cannot be had ; 
whilst we haue her, who can be sad ? 

Elizabeth so braue. 
Doth never tread from vertues trace, 
her hart and mind are full of grace, 
from pittie she tournes not her face. _ 24 

Gods word with sword, & eke her crowne,''* 

from foes she doth defend ; 
yet pagon pope, y* filthy sort of Rome, 

y^ devill doth legat send 
To spoile o*" Juell braue. 
But god will haue nosing ^ ill don ; 30 

he teacheth england how to shonne, 
and traitors to y^ gallows runne — 

Elizabeth lord sane, 
and still defend her with thy hand, 
her happie dales to passe y® sand, 
so shall this be a blessed land. 36 

The Spanish spite,^ which made ye papiste boast, 

hath done them little good ; 
god dealt with them as w*h king Pharoes host, 

who were drowned in y^ flood, 
Elizabeth to saue. 

' Besmear. 

" Two wordes are added here, but worn away so as to be illegible ; it seems to 
be "wt frowne," but query. ^ ^/^ 

* Thiu seems to fix the date ol the poem, as having been written after the 
episode of the Spanish Armada, 1538. 

in. I 

94 Prosperity of the Country. 

The lord him selfe w% streached arme 42 

did quell ther rage y* sought o' harrae ; 
ther threatning brathes y^ lord did cbarrae — 

Elizabeth so hraue. 
The lord did quite from tirant swaye, 
and traitors lost ther hoped daye : 
grant all her foes, lord, like decaye ! 48 

The subtill engines y* her foes prepared 

to worke o' fatall fall, 
are tourned to snares wherew* them selves are snard, 

and brought to shame w^all. 
Elizabeth so hraue 
Did not in strength of navie trust, 54 

nor yet in steell y* is but rust, 
but in her lord, who is most lust, 

w'^h tord and god doth saue 
o'" land & vs from wo and teene 
so wondrously as never was seene, 
even for y® vertues of o"^ Queene. 60 

Thou England, thou maist say thou happie art, 

aboue a thousand soyles ; 
thou feelst no parte of other countrees smarte ; 

god giues thy foes y^ foyles, — 
Elizabeth most braue ; 
for how it is god doth vs spare, 66 

one her he hath a fervent care, 
to giue him thankes England prepare, 

0*" Juell he doth saue, 
and all we haue els be it knowne, 
his mercies great w^'h he hath showne, 
all for her sake, not for o'' owne. 72 

God for her cause doth cloath y^ ground w* store 

of plenty and enerease ; 
0"^ barnes are full, o' barkes can here no more,^ 

and blest we are w* peace, — 
Elizabeth most brave ; 

' Shakspere, with courtly flattery, has also dwelt upon the prosperity of the 
reign of Elizabeth : 

" She shall be lov'd and fear'd : her own shall bless her ; 
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, 

London to learn Hutnility. 95 

for thee doth en gland feell all this, 78 

we nothing want y* needfull is, 
this luell england cannot misse, — 

Elizabeth lord mre, 
that england may be happie still ; 
confound all those y* would her ill : 
80 lawd thy name y^ faithfull will. 84 

Though god do this, yet, london, learne to feare ; 

all england do y^ like ; 
away w* prid, shun hores, and shame to swere, 

or els y^ lord will strike, — 
then no good can ice haue ; 
but all o'" good we shall forgoe, 90 

and feele his plagues, both hye and lowe ; 
or vices vile doth greeve him so, — 

and still our queene to saue, 
the lord his Justice still forberes, 
as he hath done these manie yeares ; 
then let vs morne o'^ sines with teres. 96 

Do this, and live in loye & happie case. 

In favour of y® lord ; 
from vices past y® lord will tourne his face : 

then let vs all accord 
to praie y^ england hraue 
may florish everie howre and day 102 

fresh and greene, like greenest baye, 
and y^ her foes come to decaye, — 

Elizabeth lord saue, 
That england may, as it hath beene, 
be fruitfull, and peace in it be scene ; 
loung live and E.aigne o' gratious Queene. 108 


And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows with her : 
In her days every man shall eat in safety, 
Under his own vine, what he plants ; and sing 
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours." 

— Henry VIII. act v. scene 5. 



[Ash. MS. 36, fol. 149.] 

a poem in Iprai^e of Ciucen CUjabetf). 

The first five pages are a translation of the famous satire against 
women attributed to Simonicles, commencing — 

Xcop\<; <yvvaLKO^ 9eo<; eiroirjcrev voov. 

The whole piece is dull, and possesses but little merit. The 
author is unknown. 

Thus farre the foule-mouth'd Greeke Simonides ; 

I wonder not liis Nation cross'd the Seas, 

And in a Ten yeares warre themselves engag'd. 

With their Allyes like men more-then-enrag'd, 

Onely back to their Contrj' to restore 6 

One woman faire, althoughe She was a whore. 

Had they not wanted beautyes, or not thought 
A stranger Soyle had on her manners wrought, 
And made her chaster then their worser Clyme, 
Troye might perhapps haue stood vntill this tyme ; 10 
And this Satirique Poet found a waj^e. 
In steed of nettles, to be crownd with Baye. 

Had he been blest but once to looke vpon 
The heavenly beautyes of our Albion, 
What raptures had his Soule possest ! how hye 16 

Had his Muse flowne in praise of Brittany ! 
His flagging Verse, lowe groueling on the Earth, 
As those from whome he form'd his woemens birth, 
Had danc'd on to^Dps of Trees, and on the flowres, 
Sweet as the Graces, nimble as the howres. 20 

His fancy then had ledd him to the woods. 
Or pritty Shrubbs, or to the silver floods, 
AVhere he had mett the Snow-beclowded Swan, 
The loving Turtle and the Pellican, 
The harmlesse Robin, charming some sweet vale 25 

With the sweet accent of a Nightingale, 
The Ladye-decking Silkeworme, or vpon 
The Phoenix in her bedd of Cvnamon ; 

The Eden without a Serpent. 97 

He woulde haue wrouglit on all the Spring discloses, 

The ^ children Lillyes, Koses : 30 

To his imagination Earth had all 

Discover'd, in her choice of minerall, 

Azure, vermilion ; and the Ocean girle 

Had shewd to him her Corrall & her Pearle, 

And from the virtues to them all assign'd. 36 

He had describd a woman and her minde. 

Not from a Catt or Ape, as he^ Muse ran, 

Nor from himselfe, althoughe he was a Man. 

But had he seen the quintessence of all, 

(To whose sweet Maiesty my numbers fall), .40 

The Queen of Hearts, and raasterer of Death, 

Honor'd, admir'd, belov'd Elizabeth : 

Had he been made of marble and noe more, 

Like to that famous Statue heertofore, 

W'''^ yeelded forth a harmony each daye 45 

When yt was shone on by the Sun's bright raye : 

By the more powerfull bearaes of her faire Eyes, 

What Musick had we heard ! what rapsodyes 

Had he been lost in ! and at last all fir'd. 

Like Phaeton, in suche a heate expir'd, ' 60 

And never wrought his Muse so farre to tell 

Where we might finde for Her a paralell. 

The taske had been too hye for him, for we, 
That in divine things more inlightned be. 
Stand all astonish'd at soe bright a raye, 66 

And (having nothing else) can only saye. 
From all that was in Eden good & faire 
She had her birth ; of yt She hath the ayre. 
The flowres' sweets, colours, breath of every spice ; 
And if she be noe second Paradise, GO 

Tis for the want of this one thing alone. 
That Eden had a Serpent, She hath none. 

1 Blank in MS. ' sic. Query, as the muse cau. 


[Ash. MS. 36, 37, fol. 296r.] 

Fpon tfte Deatf) of IXueen OBU^atjetl). 

Tms ballad is not without a certain amount of vigour, which is 
gratifying after the learned platitudes we have for some time 
been perusing. Its author I have not been able to trace. 

I tell ye all, both great and small, 

& I tell yee all truly. 
That we haue now a very good cause 

for to lament and cry. 4 

fye, fye, O fye, fye, 

O fy thou cruell death ! 
For thou hast taken away from us 

Our good Queen Elizabeth. 8 

He might haue taken other folkes, 

That better might haue been mist, 
And let us alone with our good Queene, 

That lov'd not a Popish Priest. 12 

She ruld this Nation by her selfe, 

& was beholden to no man ; 
shea bore the Sway, & of all affaires, 

& yet shee was but a woman. 16 

A woman (quoth I), and that is more 

Then auie man can tell : 
How faire shee was, & how chast shee was, 

There's no man knew it well. 20 

The Mounsieur ^ came himselfe from France, 

On purpose for to wooe her ; 
And yet she liv'd and dyed a maid, 

Doe what he could do to her. 24 

She never did anie wicked act, 

To make her Conscience pricke her ; 

Nor ever would submitt to him 

That calld himselfe Christs Vicar ; 28 

' "The Mounsieur," the Duke of Anjou, see ante pp. 67, 68. This senti- 
mental episode in the i-cign of Elizaljeth is «ell known to all re.ader.'' of history. 

The Pfoarss of Drake. 99 

But rather chose couragiously 

To fight vnder his Banner, 
'Gainst Turke and Pope & King of Spaiue, 

And all that durst withstan her. 32 

In Eighty Eight how shea did fight 

Is knowne to all and some, 
When the Spaniard came, her courage to tame, 

But had better haue stayd at home : 36 

They came with Ships, filld full of Whipps, 

To haue lasht her Princely Hide ; 
But she had a Drake made them all cry Quake, ^ 

& bang'd them back and side. 40 

A wiser Queene never was to be seen 

For a woman, or yet a stouter ; ^ 
For if anie thing vext her, With that w"'' came next her, 

How shee would lay about her ! 44 

And her Scholarship ^ I may not let slip, 

Forthere she did so excell. 
That amongst the Rout, without all doubt, 

Queen Besse shee bore the bell. 48 

And now, if I had Argus eyes. 

They were all too few to weep 
For our good Queene Elizabeth, 

That here lies fast asleep ; 52 

A sleep shee lyes, & so shee must lye 

Untill-a the day of Doome ; 
But then shee'l arise, & p — e out the Eyes 

Of the proud Pope of Pome. 56 

1 Here we have the beginning of the pleasantries on the name of Sir Francis, 
•which have been so frequently varied in modern songs. No little honour was 
done the English hero when he was made the subject of an epic by one of Spain's 
most celebrated poets, in which every abuse that national hatred could suggest 
was freely lavished. 

* Bolder, the original meaning of the word, still preserved in Dutch. 

•* Eespecting her scholarship, vide <nite pp. 66, 67. 


[Ash. MS. 36, 37, fol. 296i'.] 

Fpon ^it jTrancls Drakes teturne from W Foi?age 
atiout ^^ toorltJ $i tbe Ciueencs meeting: tjim. 

This is a somewhat spirited ballad. The events which it com- 
memorates are well known. Sir Francis Drake sailed from 
Plymouth, on his voyage round the world, Dec. 13, 1577, and 
returned in 1580, was visited on board his ship by the Queen, 
and knighted. Out of the fragments of this celebrated vessel 
a chair was made, which is still preserved in the Bodleian Library 
at Oxford, and has formed the subject of a very pleasing poem 
by Cowley. The career of Drake has been so often described, 
that, instead of I'ecapitulating its leading incidents, it would be 
better perhaps to refer the reader to the two following curious 
tracts in the British Museum, where he may find some of the 
original authorities of the modern biogra^ihies. 

" Newes ovt of the Coast of Spaino. The true Keport of tho 
honourable seruice for England perfourmed by Sir Frauncis Drake 
in the moneths of Aprill and May last past, 1587, vpon Cales. etc. 
Imprinted at London by W. How for Henry Haslop . . 1587. 4to." 

" A Summarie and Trve Discovrse of Sir Francis Drakes west 
Indian Voyage, etc. London, 1589. 4to. Dedicated by T(homas) 
C(ates) to Kobert d'Evreux, Earle of Essex." 

S"^ Francis, S' Francis, S*" Francis is come ; 
S'' Robert, & eke S'' William his Sonne, 
And eke the good Earle of Huntington ^ 
March'd gallantly on the Road. 

Then came the L'^ Chamberlain w'^ his white stafFe, 
And all the people began to laugh ; 
And then the Queen began to speake, 
" Yo'^ Wellcome home, S"^ Francis Drake." 

^ Henry Hastings, the twentieth earl of the line. He succeeded to the dignity 
in 1560 ; summoned to Parliament in the lifetime of his father as Lord Hastings; 
Knight of the Garter. Died in 1.595, leanng no issue. 

Fate of Gilbert. 101 

You Gallants all o' th Brittish blood, 

Why don't you sayle o' th Ocean floud ? 

I protest you're not all worth a Philbert, 

If once compared to S"" Humphry Gilbert.^ 12 

For he went out on a Rainy day, 

And to the new found land found out his way, 

AVith many a Gallant both fresh & green, 

And he n'er came home agen. God blesse the Queene ! 1 6 

[Ash. MS. 38, fol. 167;-.] 

£Dn Ciueene OBli^atJetf) IXueene of Cnglanti. 

These lines furnish another proof of the popularity of the 
Queen, with whom the greatness of the nation was identified. 
The author is unknown. 

Kings, Queens, mens, ludgments eyes, 
See whear your Mirrore lies : 
In whome hur frinds hath seen 
A kings state In a Queene ; 

In whome hur foes suruayde 5 

A mans hart In A Mayde : 
whome, least men, for her pietye 
should ludge to haue bine a dietye,^ 
Heauen since by death did summon, 
To shew she was a woman. 10 

T. (?) B. 

1 Born in 1539, and lost at sea in 1584. His tragical fate has formed the 
subject of a poem by Longfellow : 

" Southward, with fleet of ice, 
Sailed the corsair death." 
— Gilbert had accomplished two voyages to North America, and in 1583 had taken 
possession of Newfoundland in the name of the Queen. On his return from the 
latter, his ships were caught in a violent storm : the Admiral, one of those fine 
austere spirits so peculiarly abundant in that age of vigorous manhood, was last 
seen sitting in the stern of the ship, and was heard by the crew of one of the 
vessels, ere the tempest separated them for ever, to cry out with a calm voice 
that heaven was as near by sea as by land. 

^ Probably means a person who should live for ever, to guess from the rtymolngr. 


[Ash. MS. 38, fol. 172.] 

£Dn £Xueen Cli^atjetft. 

Eliza, that great Maiden Queen, lies here, 

Who gouernd England fower an forty yeare ; 

Our Coynes Refined,^ Ireland Tamde,^ Belgia protected,^ 

Frinded Fraunce,* foyld Spaign, and Pope reiected : 4 

Princes found her powerfull, the world vertuous, 

Hir subiects wise and fast, and God religious. 

God hath hur soule, the world hir Admiration, 

Subiects hur good deeds, Princes hur Imitation. 8 

finis Char : Best.^ 

* In 1560, the hase money which had been in circulation during the reign of 
Edward VI. was called in, and proper money issued in its place. 

2 Shane O'Xeil rebelled against the English in the year 1565, but was 
murdered by his own countrymen at a banquet in 1567. Sir Walter Devereux. 
Earl of Essex, in vain attempted to plant colonies in Ulster. This was followed 
by the rebellion of the Earl of D(smond, who was assisted by the Spaniards, 
and for some time resisted the English, but was ultimately driven out as 
a fugitive, and killed while hiding in a miserable hut (see Lingard). His head 
was struck off, and Elizabeth caused it to be placed on London Bridge. Tiiere- 
upon followed the vigorous rule of Sir John Perrot, who was recalled, however, 
owing to Court intrigues, and died in the Tower (Dec. 1591). The last great 
rebellion was that of Hugh O'^'eil, who completely defeated the English at the 
Battle of the Blackwater (1598). His subsequent interview with Essex and fate 
will be spoken of afterwards in the notes to the ballads on that unfortunate 
favourite. To understand the Ireland of Elizabeth's time the tract written by 
Spenser is invaluable : there is a very curious description also in Borde's "Intro- 
duction of Knowledge" (edited by Furnivall, 1870, p. 131). The account is 
additionally important from being one of the earliest. 

' Elizabeth's assistance of the Dutch in their revolt against Philip the Second 
is well known, and has been told by Motley. The Netherlanders may be 
pardoned for not feeling any great gratitude on this score : they were cmpelled 
to endure the insolence of Leicester, and had to make a very solid return for 
the favours which they received. 

* In 1562 Elizabeth sent forces, under the Earl of "Warwick, to assist the 
Huguenots ; they took Havre, but were ultimately compelled to capitulate. See 
also afterwards the notes on the career of Essex. 

* Of this person I am unable to furnish any information. 



The development of Nonconformity — a very natural sequence 
of the principle of private judgment so loudly proclaimed by the 
Eeformation, and the new subjective authority upon which all 
religion was to be based — is a very interesting feature in the 
reign of Elizabeth. The exiles, who had fled the ]\Iarian 
persecution, brought back the more advanced opinions which they 
had cherished and openly exhibited among their Calvinist brothers 
on the Continent. Great irregularity began to be exhibited in 
the celebration of the Service, especially with reference to the 
administration of the Sacrament and the Sign of the Cross. But 
it was from one point of view especially that Elizabeth was but 
little likely to tolerate these irregularities. She was extremely 
tenacious of her ecclesiastical supremacy, and the great principle 
upon which it is based, viz. that the Church is dependent upon 
the political constitution of the country. " The Queen," says 
Neal,' "inherited the spirit of her father, and affected a great 
deal of magnificence in her devotions, as well as in her Court. 
She was fond of many of the old rites and ceremonies in which 
she had been educated. She thought her brother had stripped 
religion too much of its ornaments ; and made the doctrines of 
the Church too narrow in some points." About 1563 the era of 
Protestant Nonconformity in England may be said to begin, and 
two years later Humphreys, Eegius Professor of Divinity at 
Oxford and Principal of Magdalen, and Sampson, Dean of Christ 
Church, were deprived of their emoluments. Humphreys, how- 
ever, ultimately conformed, and was made Dean of AVinchester. 

Those of the Puritans who remained in the Church became 
itinerant preachers or chaplains : manj^, however, openly deserted 
it, and began to form conventicles. The Queen caused informa- 
tion to be conveyed to them, that if they persisted in deserting 
their parish churches, they must look to a speedy and severe 
punishment. Matters had now come to a crisis, and the Non- 
conformists were resolved to try the legality of these proceed- 
ings by holding a meeting in London. They had hired a room 
at Plumber's-Hall, under pretence of celebrating a wedding, on 
the 19th of June, 1567, intending to have a sermon and a com- 
munion.^ The London authorities, however, interfered; the re- 
calcitrant religionists were handed over to the law, and some of 

• "History of thr riiiitniis." London, lSo7. Vnl. i. p. 8r.. 

* Neal, i. Ifil. 

104 Furitanism in the Eastern Counties. 

them on the following day brought before the Bishop of London 
and other ecclesiastical and civil dignities. On this occasion, as 
on many subsequent, they presented a bold front, and freely dis- 
cussed religious controversies with their aristocratic persecutors. 

In the Eastern Counties, however, Puritanism found especially 
its stronghold, where it continued to flourish long after the 
Elizabethan period. It was from this part of England, as is well 
known, that the Roundheads drew their most valuable supporters, 
soldiers and statesmen of the type of John "Winthrop, the founder 
of Boston, a man of whom Quincey Adams says, that if America 
had been a Roman Catholic country, he could not have failed to 
have attained canonization. Neal tells us that about 1574 Norwich 
had become a very celebrated centre of Nonconformity, and the 
Archbishop of Canterbury (Parker) was ordered to send a 
peremptory message to the Bishop of Norwich (Parkhurst), in- 
sisting that the conventicles and meetings of persons for " pro- 
phesying and expounding Scripture " should be put an end to. 
The Bishop was reluctantly compelled to assent, although he was 
notorious for very strong leanings in that direction. 

In spite, however, of the regal thunders, the Puritans were no 
whit abashed, but openly set at defiance the ecclesiastical com- 
missions. At a meeting held at Mr. Knewstub's, at Cockfield, 
in Suffolk, they framed a body of rules for their governance, 
with es2:)ecial reference to the use of the Common Prayer Book, 
ajiparel, holidays, fastings, and other grievances. 

It was in the diocese of Norwich, also, that the notorious 
Robert Browne, founder of the sect of the Brownists, first ac- 
quired his celebrity. Two of his disciples, Mr. Elias Thacker 
and Mr. John Copping, had the misfortune to be hanged in 1583, 
at Bury St. Edmund's, for disseminating his opinions. Their 
indictments were "for spreading certain books seditiously penned 
by Robert Brown against the Book of Common Prayer, estab- 
lished by the laws of this realm. The sedition charged ujion 
Brown's book was, that it subverted the constitution of the 
Church, and acknowledged Her Majesty's supremacy civilly, but 
not otherwise." It was in 1583 that the Puritans of Suffolk sent 
the following petition. 

The introduction of the piece may perhaps be allowed, as it 
gives a good idea of the state of religious feeling in the Eastern 
Counties in the reign of Elizabeth. 


[Douce MS. 363, fol. 129/'.] 

The copie of the petition, by the gentlemen of 
Suffolk, to the Lokds of the Counsaile. An" 
Dom. 1583, July.^ 

"Wee see, by the longe & lamentable experiencJ that the 
state of the Churche, especially in cure partes, growethe eueri 
dale more sycl^ then outlier, and they whome it moste con- 
sernethe have beene so carelesse provideng the meanes- as 
the hope of reamedy wexith almoste desperat w/«'ch inforceth 
us, as in all former tymes, so now especially, to resorte unto 
yoiire good Lordes, whose harttes god hath seasoned w/th 
a tender care of his glorie in the bweaty of his Sion, the 
painefull pastures & ministers of the worde, by what meanes 
wee know not, are now of laate at every assyze browghte 
to the barr marshalled w/th the worst malefactors, presentid, 
indited, arrained, & condemned for matters as wee perceive 
of verj' smalle moment, some for leaving owte holly-daies 
uubydden, some for syngeng the salme nunc dimittis in the 
mornenge, some turning the question in Baptisme conserneng 
foithe, from the infantes to the godfathers, 'which is but you 
for them, some for leaving oute the crosse in baptisme, sum] 
for leaving oute the ringe in marriage, wheretoo neither the 
Lawe, nor the lawe maker, had ever in oure judgmentes 
regarde, but ment indeede to bridle the enemy. Yet now 
a moste petifuU thynge to see, the backe of the lawe is 
turned to the adversarie, and the eadge withe all the sharp- 
nesse is layde uppon the firme and true hartted subiect. We 
grante order to bee the rule of the spirite of God, we desire 
one uniformity in all dewties of the churche, the same being 
agreable to their proportion of the faithe. But theise weak 
Seremonies, & there lyke, be so indifferent as there use or 
not use maye bee lefte to the discretion of the minister. 

' This Petition is given by Strype in his Annals, vol. iii. pp. 183, 184. Strype 
has modernized it throughout, and made other alterations, e.g. the original copy 
has "puriiiiff of the Church & commonwelthe, or bothe," etc., clearly pro- 
phetic of the great divisions in religion and politics, then in their dawn. Strype 
takes all tlie force out of the argument by the substitution of perilling for 
parting. Neal, Hist. Puritans, vol. i. p. 2o4, giv;s a mutilated copy of this 
supplication, with every strong and intolerant expression carefully expunged. 

106 Broicne and his followers. 

"We thinke it with oute duetye, and under the favorable 
condition wee speak it, very harde to goe under so harde 
handelynge to the uttar discredit of the whole ministery & 
profession of truthe, and that wh/ch is moare, we that bee 
maiestrates understande hir maiestie, are as wee thinkJ 
equivalent of voyee, and know that lawe & iustice is one, 
& maye not bee devided, doo forebeare to speak what wee 
knowe, lest by our severance in opinion, Lawe shulde bee 
rent, & justice cut in twayne, and so the middest of the 
people which are so easely distracted bee caried hither & 
thythar to the moveng of further inconveniances. And so 
by our lycence, ministerie & maiestracie, is browght into open 
contempte, yf therfore it maye bee lawfull for us to speake 
but truth for oure selves. This is oure course, we serve her 
maiestie in the countery, not according unto oure fanticis 
as the wordle (sic) falsely beares us in hande, but accordeng 
to the lawes & statutes of the Realrae of England. We doo 
reverence both the lawe & the lawe makers, lawe speeketh 
& wee kepe sylence, Lawe comandeth & wee obaye, with out 
lawe no man can possess his owne in peace, by lawe we 
precede against all ofiendors, wee touchJ none that lawe 
spareth, we spare none that lawe toucheth. Hinc ilia 
lachrima, we alowe not the papists their trecheris subtill 
practizes & herizis. We alowe not the family of love an 
egg of the same neste, we alowe not Anabaptistes nor there 
coraunite. We alowe not of Browne the overthrower both 
of the churche & of the cofnon wealthe. We allowe (not) 
all those, but we humbely uppon oure knees, we praie your 
good lordshippes to geve us leave to advertise you, how the 
adversarie very cunningly hathe new christenid us w/th an 
odyous name of puritanisme ; we defie & detest bothe the 
name & the herezy, it is composed of all her herezis afore- 
saide. The papistes bee pure & imaculate, he hath stoare 
of goodnesse for him self] & plenty for outhers. The 
family of love cannot sinne, they bee so pure that God is 
homified in them, & they deified in God : but wee, thanckes 
bee to God, doo crye out in the bytternesse of oitr soules, 
peccavimus cum. jmtribus nostris, and groane under the burden 
of owr sinnes, wee confesse that there is none worse before 
God. And yet before the wordle wee laboure [to] keepe oure 
selves and oure profession unblameable ; this is oure puritan- 
isme, it pleaseth them to use ministars, magestrates, & 

The free passage of the Gospel. 107 

outhar, especially suche as have eye to jugelynges,^ & the 
name being odyous, oftentymes w/th the ignorant it makes 
the person odious. A shrewde devise, & herew/th seemith 
daingerous, for wee know that every simple man in these 
partes, thanckes bee to God and hir Maiestie, by hering the 
worde of God redd & preached, doo condemne & contemne 
the grosse erroures & trumpery of Roome, but the subtiltes 
of rome are not soone aspied. Jesuites 8f Seminaries are not 
odious names w/th the papistes, & yf in tyme suche meght be 
lykened & lodged by the popes harbengars, & good subiectes 
eunnengly wounded w/th lewde titles & names falsely ap- 
plied, God save the church e, the Queene, & the Realme. 
God send us peace in Christ. Amen. Wee very humbly 
desire, right honorable, not to become offensive unto you, 
eyther in the length or plaine delivery of this matter, for 
weare the cause but oures only, we coulde beare and forbeare, 
but when it retcheth even unto the parting of the Churche 
& coin on wealthe or bothe, for they cannot but as twynnes 
lyve & dye together. Then unlesse wee wolde forget 
all dutye unto God & man, we cannot but unfolde before 
yoKY honors judgments the p«>'ticulars of theise so great 
discorafortes : if jour good lord shippes shuld call us to 
triall & proofe of these matters, yt is the thinge wee moste 
desire ; yf outherwise you shall thinclij to dispose any outher 
course as wee are moste bounde, so are wee moste readye to 
submitt all unto yo//r greater wisdome. Oure lord, for his 
Christes saak, blesse all jour studies & laboures imployed for 
the preservation of hir maiestie. The godly & peacable 
gover[n]ment of this lande, & the free passaige of the 
gospell, the roote of all the rest, that not we aloane, but the 
ages to comeJ may speak of yot(r praises in all the streates 
& cornars of oure C3'ties, And so coinending oureselves & 
o?<r beste services to youre continuall coinandmentes, we doo 
tak oure leave. 

Robart Germin, Robart Ashefilde, 

Robart Wingfield, Eobart fforth, 

Nicholas Bakon, William Thomson, 

Phillip Barker, Thomas Jeoley, 

John Heigham, Richard Wingfelde. 

* Jugglings ; the sentence is thus given by I^eal : " This is our Puritanism ; 
a name given to such magistrates and ministers and others that have a strict eye 
upon their juggling." 

108 Spread of Puritanism. 

It was in 1589 that the celebrated Martin Mar-prelate tracts 
began to make their appearance, in which the opinions prevalent 
against the Church of England found a very violent and some- 
what humorous expression. All attempts to discover the authors 
of these pamphlets — and there were probably several — failed, 
even though Burghley himself issued a proclamation. Whitgift 
and Bancroft were very active in the same direction, but with 
no better result. Here and there an unfortunate Puritan brought 
himself within the arm of the law, but the spirit of Noncon- 
formity for all that was hearty and flourishing. 

The close of the reign of Elizabeth saw the Puritans slowly 
increasing : the questions which divided the English Church were 
to be again debated with fresh violence in the reigns of her 
successors. The subjoined poem is probably the work of some 
Nonconformist sympathizer — certainly of one who rejoices in 
the changes brought about by the Reformation — 

" In each towne and cittie, her grace doth delight it, 
To have gods word preached at large." 

So also 

" What Eealme on earth 
May be compared to this, 
That hath y^ gospell plainly taught P 
It is a heavenly blisse !" 


[ y 

^ ftartie ftanfees giiiingc to gon for out queenes 
nmt rjrcrllcnt mairgtir, anti 10 to bt ^oiingc to pe tune 
of pe mctJlcp. 

1 2 prepare with speed, 

crist commyng is at hand ; 

as by straing signes and tokens both 

the learned sort haue stand. 4 

gods workes plainly declares 

each day vnto us all, 

y* soddenly an end shalbe 

of things on earth mortall. 8 

fyre fearce abroad shall flye, 

from east vnto y« west, 

consumyng things y^ be earthlj^, 

the greatest w% y^ least. 12 

no succor shalbe found 

for favour, gould, nor fee ; 

but even as all y^ world was drownd, 

so bournt shall all things bee. 16 

Wherfore I say, make no delay, 

vnfolde and hould 

on Christ o' only stay, 

for it is hee y* remedie 20 

must be we see ; 

or els with open crye 

we shall to hell fire, o*" deeds deserue no les, 

meet meed for o"" hire, o"^ Hues do so expresse. 24 

^ The transcriber of this poem somewhat carelessly neglected to indicate the 
source from which it was taten, and subsequent search has not tracked it, but 
it is hoped that it may be added in the errata. 

^ Ay, so frequently written formerly. This has given rise to frequent puns. 
Cf. Shakspere's "Two Gentlemen of Verona," act i. scene 1. 

Proteus : But what said she ? [Speed nods.] Did she nod ? 

Speed: I. 

Fro. : Nod, I ; why that's noddy. 

So also in the Sonnets we have the following curious quibble (Sonnet cxlviii.). 
" Love's eye is not so true as all men's ' No ' " — where see Mr. Staunton's note. 

iir. K 

110 The Gosjjel taught. 

then vnto C Christ inclyne quickly, 

and fly from follies desire, 

and aske of him mercie for remedie, 

he will not be any denier : 28 

while life doth last, linger not if you may haue it, 

he askes but a penitent harte ; 

to late will it be when tyme is gon to craue it : 

make speed therfor, ere you departe. 32 

Imbrace gods holy worde 

for fear of watchfull sword ; 

loue well ye pouertie, 

and then god will blesse thee. 36 

What Realme on earth 
may be compared to this, 
that hath y*^ gospell plainly taught ? 
it is a heauenly blisse ! 40 

allso a maiden meeke 
amongst vs hee hath sent, 
to shew his glorious wonderous workes 
and power omnypotent. 44 

she sitts in princly throwne, 
and rules y® Relme in quiet ; 
she hath allso y® trew touchstone, 
gods word her only dyet. 48 

though foes do frett & fume, 
yet god will blesse her still 
with maiestie and eke with crowne, 
as is his blessed will. 52 

wherfore to pray let vs not stay, 
but be redie 

to aske of Christ alwaye, 

that she from strife may lead her life 56 

among vs longe. 
let these prayers be reefe^ 

amonge all good christians, both day, night & howre, 
y' god will indue her with his mightie powre ; 60 

then neede we not feare any forren foes, 
Christ wilbe her only defence. 
C queene she hath plentie to plucke down all thoes 
that setteth by subtill pretence. 64 

' Eife. 

God save our little country. Ill 

In each towne and cittic her grace doth delight It, 

to haue gods word preached at large ; 

all thinges done araisse to haue them saue righted: 

the maiestrats all she doth charge, 68 

let each poore haue his wright, 

oppresse no man with might ; 

then god y*^ sits aboue 

will knitt vs all in loue. 72 

God grant to us 

y* we may haue ye grace 

to loue o*" queene with faithfull harte, 

and his word to imbrace, 76 

y* at y*^ latter day, 

with him we may assend 

to heavenly ioyes for vs prepard 

by him world w*hout end. 80 

god saue England so smale,^ 

and nobles of y^ same ; 

god grant eachon y*^ liue in thrale 

may assend w*h christs name ; 84 

o' commons so direct, 

o lord, we thee desire, 

that none of them may be infect 

to taste thy wrath full ire ; 88 

and then I know, both hye and lowe 

will iudg smale grudg 

in en gland for to growe, 

y* vnitie mongst men may be : 92 

god graunt it haunt, 

and vsen in each degree. 

then shall we be glasst ^ to each towne & cittie ; 

wher loue doth last louug tyme spight hath but smale pittie, 

as tyme is y^ tryall for truth to be tride, 97 

Bo all things ther beinge shall haue, 

till death doth come that will haue no denial ; 

bring kinde out of mind vnto graue. 100 

' Here we see how diflferent was the position of the England of those days from 
that which she occupies at the present time : our forefathers were proportionably 
meek. Waller, at a subsequent period, could only utter the mild boast — 
" Beneath the tropics is our language spoke, 
And part of Flanders hath received our yoke." 
* i.e. mirrored. 

V 9 

112 Qneen Elizabeth's rejoicing. 

then riches nor beauty nor nothing will saue vs, 

if we do not help o^' pore brother ; 

and if we live well y^ lord god will haue vs : 

we are his owne and for none other ; 104 

he bought vs w^h his bloud 

to taste y^ heauenly foode; 

god grant vs ther for aye 

both rich and pore to staye. 108 


Concerning the authorship of this poera, w^iich resembles a 
style of writing earlier than the Elizabethan period, I am not 
able to furnish any accurate information.^ 

[Eawl. MS. C. 86, f. USb.'] 

Myne hert is set vppone a lusty pynne ; ^ 

I praye to venus of good continuaunce, 

For I reioj'se Y case ]>r/t I am in : 

Delyuerd from sorow annexed to plesaunce, 

Of allc comfort havynge habundaunce ; 

This ioy and I, I trust shal neuer twynne, 

Myne hert is set vppone a lusty pynne. 7 

I pray to venus of good continuaunce, 

Sithe she hathe set me in J?® wey of ease, 

Myne hertly sf>-uyse w/tA myne attendaunce, 

So to contynue, ]?rtt exxer I may please ; 

Thus voydj'ng from alle pensful disease ; 

Now stand I hole fer from all grevaunce, 

I praye to venus of good continuaunce. 14 

1 For the prolonged use of the thorn ())) in MSS., see some good remarks by 
Earle ("Philology of the English Tongue," 1st edition, 1871). This is a very 
suggestive book, and the production of a scholar, who has thoroughly appreciated 
the genius of the English language. 

^ lu a merry humour. — Hallhvell. 

The Diirroiir and star of icomanhead. 113 

For I reioyse ]>^ case ]>ai I am in, 

IMy gladnesse is suche ]^cr greuythc me no payne, 

And so to s^'rue neuyr shal I bly^me/ 

And thoghe I wolde, I may not me refrayne, 

Myne herte & I so set is ccrtayne ; 

We shal neuf >• slake, but euer new begyn^, 

For I reioyse ]?® case \>at I am in. 21 

Delyurrd from sorow annexed to plesaunce, 
That alle my ioy I set as aughte of ryghte, 
To please as after my symple suffisaunce, 
To me \^ goodlyest most beauteous insights, 
A verry lanterne to j^e al o\ic)' lyghte ; 
tf. 150.] Most to my comfort on« her remembraunce, 

Delyu^rd from sorow annexed to plesaunce. 28 

Of alle comfort havyng(? habundaunce. 

As whane ]>at I thynke ]>^ goodlyhed, 

Of \^ most fem3'ne and meke in countenr/?mce, 

Verray myrrour and ster of womanhed, 

Whos ryghte good fame so large a brod dothe spred : 

Ful glad to me to haue congnossaimce, 

Of alle comfort havyng habundaunce. 35 

This ioy and I, I trust shalle neue;* twyne,^ 

So \at I am so fer furthe in j)" trace ; 

My ioyes bene dovbil wher o\>er be but thyne, 

For I am stabely set in suche a place, 

Wher beaute cresithe, & euer wellythe grace, 

Whiche is ful famous, & borne of nobil kyne ; 

This ioy and I, I trust shal neuer i^yne. 42 

Finis quod Quene Elyzabeth. 

' Cease. "Til he had torned him, could he not blin," — Chaucer, "The 
Chanores Yemannes Tale " (Tyrwhitt's ed.). 
^ Separate. 


Latin tierces on CU^abetb'^ proposen carriage 
toitb ^n)ou» 

For the circumstances under which these verses were written, 
see page 68 : we here get a contemporary pasquin, the form of 
expression which public opinion takes, where free discussion is 

[Douce MS. 363, fol. 144;-.] 

Vera Copia. 

wal'from a ^ola precor Tel iuncta uiro sit Virgo Britannio ^ 
slme ^bad ^^ ferat Bx proprio pignora grata solo : 
post °n * Viae domi, ne non viuas Francisse, recusat 
London. Nostra peregrinum regio ferre lugum. 

Virgo valet, spirat, Regnat quo longior absis 
Tutior enge redde (sic) Gallia, larga satis.^ 
Pectora fide (sic) Deo, bona corpora, corda, corone ^ 
Dantur, nil restat ni velis arma tibi. 
Principes {sic) consilio viuat ut 
opto anima suo, Ocf^ A** 1579. 

A Method, not sharply Englished. 

The kinge of ffrance shall not advance his shippes in English 

Ne shall his brother ffrancis haue the Ruleng of the lande : 
Wee subiects trwe untill oure queene, the forraine yoke defie, 
Where too we plight oure faithefull hartts, o«r lyines, our 

lyves & all, 
thereby to have our honor rize, or tak o?^r fatall fall. 
Therefore, good ffrancis. Pule at home, resist not our desire ; 
for here is notheng else for thee, but onely sworde & fyer. 

1 sic. ? Britanna. 

2 This line seems hopelessly corrupt. Perhaps 

Tutior : en regi Gallia larga satis 
might be suggested. 

3 For "fide" and "corone" read fida and coronse. By these alterations some 
sense may be cxtracled from the original. 


Ccsbe's Fcrscs on tbe HDrtier of fte (farter. 

This poem has already been printed by Sir Harris Nicolas in 
his "Orders of Knighthood," voL ii., 1842. The MS. is on 
vellum. In the British Museum there is "A boke containing 
divers sortes of Hands, as well the English, as French Secretarie, 
with the Italian, Koman, Chancery and Court Hands. Also the 
true and just proportion of the cajiital Eomans. Set forthe by 
William Teshe, of the Citye of Yorke, gentleman. 1580." It is 
dedicated to the Queen, and he begs that she will deign to accept 
it "among the noble presents of more higher estate." Teshe 
was probably the son of a certain Tristram Teshe of Yorke who 
lies buried in the Cathedral with the following inscription on 
his tomb : " Of your charity pray for the soul of Margaret Tesh, 
wife unto Mr. Tristram Tesh, of the cittye of Yorke, Notarie 
and principal Eegister of the Archbishopricke of Y'"orke, which 
Margarett departed unto the mercy of Allmighty God the viiij 
day of December, An. Dom. 1537." Teshe's verses are inscribed 
to the Earl of Bedford. 

[Had. MS. 3437.] 

[If. 1.] 

Within a Place, or Pallace, richlye dight, 

did sitt a Prince, and Princely Peer's attend, 

Brane Lord's, faire Dames, and many a courtly wight : 

the Kniglittfs of th'order — eachone wore a Bend 

aboute the Arme — all wayting, as it weare, 

some heeauenly sighte, or happy tale to heare. 6 

And in each Bend, enbrodred Bracelett wise, 

weare certayne wordes, ymporting seuerall sence, 

as best did please their Honors to devise, 

the more to shewe theire loj^all harts pretence ; 

ffor as the Garter shew's what th'order sayth. 

So by the Bend Avas knowne y^ wearers fayth. 12 

Myselfe, (alas !) the meanest of the Sorts 

that stoode in place to see this princely sight, 

and harde the wordes which here I shall reporte, 

God kuow's howe muche vnto my hartf.s delight, 

Behelde the Queene stande vp emoungst them all, 

Herault's crvde scylence, husht M'as all the Hall. 18 

IIG The Knights of the Garter. 

[If. 2.] [drawing.*] 

"Shame to the mynde that meanes" (quod shee) "araisse," 

whereby was seene her mynde did meane no ill : 

" Lo ! thus, my Lordes, our verdict geuen vp is, 

lett them do well that looke for our goodwill, 

A quj mal pense a luy tout honj Soit : 

and for myselfe, Mon Dieu et seul mon droit. 24 

"Highe God" (q?<od shee) "be alwayes our right hand, 

and thinck on me, semper eadem, still. 

He is the staye on which our harte shall stand, 

our stronge defence from those that thinck vs ill ; 

where wronge makes warre, we must w/th patience arme ; 

Tyme trieth truthe, good myndes can meane no harme." 30 

And so, me thought, shee satt her downe againe, 

with Princely grace attending for the rest. 

Then euery one, from hartes which coulde not fayne, 

shewed forth th' aboundance of ech faithfuU brest. 

The Earle of Lincolne there did foremost stand, 

and gaue his bend thus to her highnes hand. 36 

[If. 3.] [drawing.] 

" Renowned Queene, cheif Souereigne of our weale, 

whose happie raigne hath made vs fortunate, 

Trewe were the wordes which late you did reveale, 

highe God is hee that hath vpheld your state ; 

What elce was said, wee all agree in this, 

Shame be to hym that thincks or meanes amiss. 42 

" A faithfuU mynde doth sildome merritt blame, 

which makes me saye, that Loialte n'ha hont : 

Fidelitie can neuer purchase shame ; 

yt springes from faith and farre doth Fame surmount : 

for what maintaynes your Princely roialtye 

But love of God and Subiects Loialtye ? 48 

* The drawings are the Coats of Arms of racli Xoblc as hf is dcscrihrd, with 
the hcnds containina: tlieir mottoes. 

The Knights of the Garter. 117 

" Longe maye you lyve, in peace and happie dayes, 

to double twice the tracte of Nestors date, 

that after worldes maye singe vnto your praise, 

in golden verse, the Tryumphes of your fate ! 

Thus doo I ende, and wishe, as is my wont, 

rather death then shame, Loialte n'ha hont." 54 

[Edward Fynes-Cltnton, 13th Lord Clinton and (in 1572 
created) Earl of Lincoln, who bad been elected a Knight 
by Edward VI. His motto was " Loyaulte n'a Honte." He 
was Lord High Admiral, and died 1584, being ancestor of 
the present Dukes of Newcastle, Earls of Lincoln.] 

[If. 4,] [drawing.] 

" It is a prouerbe vsed everie- where, 

a perfect frend is good in tyrae of need ; 

But well is them, that either farre or nere, 

in all assayes can stande themselves in steed. 

But who be they ? Then Deus propter me, 

for none I fynde but Virtus propter se. 60 

" Virtue alone sittes euer by herselfe, 

full poore yclad, and all to totters torne ; ^ 

shee' stemeth skyll, shee forceth not of pelfe, 

shee laughes the worlde and worldlings all to scorne : 

Fortune and shee are allwayes at a Jarre, 

and vice gainst virtue maketh open warre. 66 

" Thus, sacred Prince, vouchsafe here to receaue 

my little Poesie, Virtus propter se, 

which, as you maie, with wisdome well conceaue, 

So thinck I wishe, but Deum propter me, 

Et sicut Virtus viuit sola spe. 

Sic viuit Spes, et Virtus propter se." 72 

[Thomas Eatcliffe, 3rd Earl of Sussex, Lord Fitzwalter, 
etc. ; also elected a Knight by Edward VI. The motto of 
this family, " Virtus propter se." He died 1583 sans issue, 
but the title did not become extmct till 1641.] 

1 To tatters. 

118 The Knights of the Garter. 

[If. 5.] [drawing.] 

" Sith Virtue is with Reason well sett owte, 

Souereigne," q?wd hee, " le ne pense rien que bon', 

in euerie cause of certaintie or doubte 

auoir respect tousiours que veut Raison, 

Car la Raison en chascun chose est bon' ; 

Garde vous done que vous suiuies liaison. 78 

" Over each member Reason is the Kinge, 

who in the Head doth keepe his highest Courte, 

and by the eyes surueyeth euerye thinge, 

and throughe the eares doth harcken each reporte ; 

But forth the mowth, as throughe a gate, he sendeth 

suche rules of Reason as each faulte amendeth. 84 

** For Reason shewes the secrett of effecte, 

and what th'eflfects of each thinge will insue. 

to Reason, then, lett all men haue respect, 

least wante of care doe lack of Reason rewe : 

The sage affirrpe, and you shall finde it bon' 

that I haue saide, tousiours Suiuez Raison." 90 

[Anthony Browne, Viscount Montagu (so created in 1554) ; 
elected a Knight by Queen Mary. His motto, " Suivez 
raison." He died 1592. Tlie title is supposed to have be- 
come extinct in 1797, though there are many claimants to it.] 

[If. 6.] [drawing.] 

Then stepped forth an other Princely Peere, 

and from his Arme he plucked of his Bende, 

with stately lobke, and with a plesaunt cheere — 

"I not compare" (quoth hee) "nor yett contende, 

But in fewe wordes my Poesie is, and shall, 

whilst lyfe of myne doth last, Droict et loiall. 96 

" Right is the course which Reason doth direct, 

firme is the faith that stedftist doth abide, 

lust is the mynde which vice cannot detect. 

True is the knott that Truthe herself hath tide : 

Right, firme, lust, true, what euer shall befall, 

my worde import^s my will, Drokt et loinU. 102 

The Kniglits of the Garter. 119 

" And so vouchsafe, sweet Souereigne, to thinck 

what's saide is right, and what is right is true, 

what's true is firme, whats firme can neuer shrinck, 

the staff nott fall's that is vpheld by youe : 

Wherfore in fine, I saye, and euer shall, 

durant ma vie, Droict ct Loiall.'' 108 

[Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester (so created 1563), who 
had been elected a Knight by Queen Elizabeth in 1559. 
The motto of this celebrated favourite of the Queen was 
" Droit et loyal." He died without legitimate is^sue 1588, 
when his honours became extinct.] 

[If. 7.] [drawing.] 

*' The redie mynde respecteth neuer toyle, 

But still is prest t' accomplish hartes intent : 

A broad, at home, in euerie Coste or sojde, 

the deed performes what inwardly is ment ; 

which makes me saye, in euerie virtuous deed, 

I still am prest t'acconiplish what's decreed. . 114 

"But byd to goe, I redie am to ronne ; 

But byd me ronne, I redie am to ryde : 

To goe, ronne, ryde, or what elce to be done, 

speek but the worde, and soone it shalbe tryde : 

tout prest Je suis po^^r accomplier La chose 

per tout Labour que vous pent faire repose. 120 

" Prest to accomplish, what you will commaunde ; 

Prest to accomplish, what you shall desire ; 

Prest to accomplish, your desir's demaunde ; 

Prest to accomplish, Heaven for happie hire : 

Thus doe I ende, and at your will I rest, 

as you shall please in euerie Action prest." 126 

[George Talbot, 6th Earl of Shrewsbury, Earl Marshal 
OF England ; elected a Knight 1561. The motto of this 
family, which is still in existence, is " Prest d'uccomplir.'" 
He died 1590.] 

120 The Kniijhts of the Garter. 

[If. 8.] [drawing.] 

The Earle of "Warwick next approched there, 

whose Sentence shew'd the Imprese of his harte — 

" God sees our harts " (q?^od he) " and secrettes here, 

and he rewards the Righteous by desarte : 

To hym, and you, I doe protest that Foy, 

that sayes, Vng Dieu, vng Eoy, seruir Je do3^ 132 

" By Kinge I means my service to the Crowne, 

and so to you, whome God hath crowned so ; 

Which God I praie to plucke those traitors downe 

that hate your state or seeke your overthrowe. 

In God and you doth rest my onlye loy 

that vowes vng Dieu, vng Roy, seruir Je doy. 138 

" One God I haue by grace to searue and love ; 

One Queene by his commaund to loue and serve ; 

the one doth rest, to see in Heauen above 

what wee on Earth of this one will deserue ; 

AVhome who meanes yll God lend hym little Joy 

and lett me still, Seruir vng Dieu vng Roy." 144 

[Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick (so created 15G7), 
eldest son of John, the celebrated Duke of Northumberland 
and brother to the Earl of Leicester above named ; elected 
a Knight 1563. His motto, " JJng Dieu, ung Boy, servir Je 
doy." He died sans issue 1589, when his honours became 

[If. 9.] [drawing.] 

** Many reporte as they of others here ; 

But, as for me, Je di come Je trouue ; 

even as I fynde, my meaning shall appeare, 

en toutes choses come Je proue ; 

Even as I proue, and as by proofe I fynde, 

So shall by proofe apparaunt be my mynde. 152 

" In trust sometyme is secret falshoode founde ; 

but yett by trial! is each treason spide : 

Since triall, then, of truth descries the grounde, 

tyme must bring Truth, that triall male be tride 

ere ti'ust be geuen. Wherefore, quand le proue, 

I then will save but. Come le trouue. 158 

The Knights of the Garter. 121 

" Where Truth I fincle, there will I builde my truste ; 

"Where trust I finde, I will not be vntrue : 

Whence fauore corn's due faithfull seruice must 

approue true Mynde, that only honors you, 

for virtues rare, Que verite proue 

and I, by proofe, saye, Come Je trouue." 164 

[Henry Carey, Lord Hunsdon, so created 1559 by the Queen, 
to whom he was first cousin ; elected a Knight loGl. His 
motto was, " Comme je trouve." He died 159G, but the title 
continued in his descendants till the death of the 8th Lord 
in 1765, when it became extinct. In 1832 Lucius Bentinck 
Cary, Viscount Falkland in Scotland, who descended from 
a common ancestor, was created Baron Hunsdon in the 
United Kingdom.] 

[If. 10.] [drawing.] 

" Some sorte of men contynually forecast, 

and doe dyvine of thinges which maye insue, 

neuer respecting what is gone and past, 

but what's to come, that deeme they wilbe true, 

Though falce in fine ; for why ? by proofe we see, 

che sara, sara, What shalbe, shalbe. 170 

" No fatall feare, or dread of destenye, 

can daunte a mynd which euer is resolv'd. 

Mans thought is fraile, his forecast vanitye, 

which when I ofte within my mynde revolu'd, 

I tooke my pen and writt this worde for me, 

Che sara, sara, what shalbe, shalbe. 176 

" Per quant' a me non stimo dj Fortuna 

ch'ognj cose e al voler d' Iddio, 

non credo che Fortun' ha forz'alcuna : 

ma che sara sara, ben dico lo, 

proui che vuol Qt egl'in fin dira 

fa tutto Iddio, che sara sara." 182 

[Francis Eussell, 2nd Earl of Bedford ; elected a Knight 
1564. His fatalistic motto of " Clie sara sara " was adopted 
by his father, who, having, by his knowledge of Italian and 
Spanish, been able to be of the greatest use to the Archduke 
Philip, when shipwrecked off Weymouth, owed his favour- 
able introduction to the English Court and his subsequent 
advancement to that piece of fortune. He died 1585, being 
ancestor of the present Dukes of Bedford.] 

122 The Knights of the Garter. 

[If. 11.] [drawing.] 

" Strange be tli'events, Most Sacred Maiestye, 

which hap to man whilst hee doth breathe on earthe. 

Somemen are borne to care and miserye, 

and othersome to lyue in loye and Merthe ; 

Somemen by trauaile passe both Land and Seas, 

Whilst some at home doe lyue in rest and ease. 188 

" Which when I thinck and meditate vpon, 

I smile at some, and pittie others hap : 

But lett that pass : — why shoulde I muse theron ? 

All men cannott haue place in Fortunes lap. 

As for mj'selfe, I doe not meane to trie. 

But Quo me fata vocant, there will I. 194 

" You Fatall Sisters, websters ^ of my lyfe, 

Spin slowe, wynde softe, and cutt not yet my twyne. 

Sweet Atropos, vnsheathe not yet thy knyfe ; 

But lett raee l}Tie, to searue this Prince of myne, 

Abroade, at home, or where your Highnes please. 

Or, Quo me Fata Vocant, Land or Seas." 200 

[Sir Henry Sydney ; elected a Knight in 1564, being then 
Lord President of Wales. He was subsequently three times 
Lord Deputy of Ireland, and was brother-in-law to the 
Queen's favourite — the Earl of Leicester, whose sister he 
had married. By her he was father of the celebrated Sir 
Philip Sydney and of Sir Eobert Sydney, created in 1618 
Earl of Leicester, a title which became extinct in 1743. 
His motto of " Quo Fata vocant " is used by his pi-esent 
representative, the Lord De Lisle and Dudley. He died in 

[If. 12.] [drawing,] 

" To channge, or feare, proceed's of Dastard mynde : 

to doe the one or other I despise. 

Fonde be those men that tourne with euerie wynde, 

and feares ech blast or storm e that doth arise. 

As for myself, I trust in God, and you, 

neuer to chaunge, or feare what shall insue. 206 

1 Weavers. The feminine of weaver. 

The Knights of the Garter. 123 

" Chauri<^e will T not the constant lone I beare, 

Feare will I not the force of Fortun's spighte : 

Thus doe I meane to neither chaunge or feare, 

But in a staj^e to settle my delighte. 

Lett fleeting mynd's of Fortune be afraide ; 

Where firmnes rest's, the harte is well apaide. 212 

" In choise of Chaunge, Feare doth affirme the worss ; 

In Feare, the Harte can lye at little rest ; 

and restles Hart's can haue no greater curss ; 

and curssed Hart's are seeld ^ or neuer blest : 

Itane ? sic. cum hoc tarn certum cerno 

dicam, Mutare vel tiraere sperno." 218 

[William Somerset, 3rd Earl of Worcester; elected a 
Knight 1570. His motto, " Mutare vel timere sperno." He 
died 1589, being grandfather of Henry, the loyal Marquess 
of Worcester (so created 1642), and ancestor of the present 
Dukes of Beaufort, Marquesses and Earls of Worcester.] 

[If. 13.] [drawing.] 

" Of God and Man, what more esteemd then Truth ? 

Of Prince and Peere, what more then truth in price ? 

Not glozing 2 lests that euerie gallante doth. 

The Truth is that is honored of the wise ; 

And though that Truth vnwares male purchase blame, 

Truth wilbe Truth, in spite of all defame. 224 

" The purest golde lyes hidd in dross and mire. 

And precious stones mongst ragged Rocks do growe ; 

But as the one is purified by fire, 

So are the other pullished also. 

And as they both by Art are made most bright, 

So Tyme bringes Truth by triall vnto light. 2.30 

" Thoughe burnisht Brass male shyne as bright as golde, 

Yet Truth the Touchstone fyndeth it but brass ; 

Thoughe foyled glass seeme precious to beholde, 

yett truth will knowe it for a peece of glass : 

So Truth in all thinges doth the virtue trie : — 

In veritate victoria, therfore, saye I." 236 

' Seldom. * Decoitfiil, flatteriii?. 

124 The Knights of the Garter. 

[Henry Hastings, 3rd Earl of Huntingdon; elected a 
Knight 1570. Died sans issue 1595. The motto, "In veritate 
victoria,'" was doubtless used by him, but that on his Garter 
plate is " La Victoire vient de Dieu." The title is still 
enjoyed by the descendants of his younger brother.] 

[If. 14.] [drawing.] 

With that stept forth a graue sage Lorde indeed, 

with countenaunce milde, and with as comely grace. 

" Madame," quod hee, " not many wordes shall need 

to shewe in summe where virtue keeps her place ; 

per quanto a me, questa e sententia mia, 

proua che vuol. Cor vnum vna via. 242 

** One Harte to Prince, state, selfe, and Gantries heale, 

one Loue, one losse, one Joy, one greife, one gall, 

one mynde, one meane, one will, one wishe, one weale, 

one good, one god, one but one all in all, 

one happ, one Heauen, which vna sola via, 

Cor vnum querit, quel mio, quella mia." 248 

And ther with all, hee gaue her from his Arme 

a brave riche Bende, wheron was rarely writ, 

aboute a Harte, that neuer meaneth harme, 

and but one vraye seekes happie Heauen to hitt. 

" Nel Cuore mio, questa e sententia mia, 

Proua Troua, Cor vnum vna via." 254 

[WiLLiA3i Cecil, Lord Burleigh (so created 1571), the 
celebrated Lord High Treasurer; elected a Knight 1572. 
The motto, " Cor unum, via una,'''' although doubtless used by 
him (as it is by his descendants), is not the one given in his 
Garter plate, which is " Honneur loyer et loyauUe." He died 
1598, and was succeeded by his son, created 1605 Earl of 
Exeter, and was the ancestor of the present Marquesses of 
Exeter, and of the Marquesses of Salisbury.] 

[If. 15.] [drawing.] 

By order next a Baron then came forth, 

and humbly there — " Renowned Queene," quod he, 

" by due desarte esteeme eche vertues worth, 

I saye no more, but fort' en loyalte : 

my greatest force, I thinck, I best bestowe 

in service suche as maye my duety showe. 260 

The Knights of the Garter. 125 

" If Fortune frowne, why then in her despight ; 

and yf shee smyle, I trust her nere y^ more : 

doe what shee can, I feare not of her might : 

lett fortune goe, sett only God before 

in all affaires, ho detto et diro, 

che dio vc^.endo, lo lo faro." 264 

And therwi'thall he plucked from his Arme 

theis wordes in golde enbrodred faire to see, 

" Dogge be his death that meanes Diana harme, 

Dominus videt, Fort' en loyalte." 

Then stood he by, when as, w/th reuerence lowe, 

an other Peere his seemely selfe did showe. 270 

[Arthur Grey, 15th Lord Grey de Wilton ; elected a 
Knight . The motto here assigned to him, ''Forte en 
loyalte," is not the motto on his Garter plate, which is " At 
Vincit paiiperiem Virtus," and which was also used at his 
funeral. He died 1593. By the attainder of his son in 
1604, this title became forfeited. But in 1784 Sir Thomas 
Egerton, who descended from a sister of the attainted Lord, 
was created Baron Grey de Wilton (which became extinct 
on his death in 1814). In 1801, however, he had been 
created Viscount Grey de Wilton and Earl of Wilton, with 
a special remainder to the Grosvenor family, by whom those 
titles are still enjoyed.] 

[If. 16.] [drawing.] 

" AYeake is the faith that fleet's with everie W3'nde ; 

True is the harte that neuer meanes to starte ; 

A stedfast course maie shewe a stayed mynde, 

and carefull zeale express a constant harte, 

that in despight of Tout mortal daunger, 

shall searue but you, et tousiours sans chaunger. 276 

" Lyke to the Moone, that Moonthly chaungeth newe, 

I maie compare a fleeting fickle mynde ; 

For when her full shee geues the worlde to vewe, 

her wayne is nearest then by course of kynde : 

So wavering witt's the farder that they raunge, 

theire suddeyn wane presadgeth speedy chaunge. 2S2 

126 The Knights of the Garter. 

" But constant Myndes are 13'ke vnto the Sonne, 

whose certayne course doth neuer runne astraye ; 

For thoughe with Clowdes it ofte be overdonne, 

yett shjmeth it in darcknes wismen saye : 

So thoughe with cares sweet virtue clowded be 

yet Sans chaunger virtue will virtue be." 288 

[Henry Stanley, 4th Earl of Derby, whose wife was first 
cousin (once removed) to the Queen, bein^ grand-daughter 
of Mary Tudor ; elected a Knight 1574. His motto, " Sans 
changer,'^ is the same now used by the present Earl of 
Derby, his heir male. He died 1592.] 

[If. 17.] [drawing.] 

A worthy Earle in place there did appeare, 

who thus began, "Bien, vng Je seruiray. 

One I will searue, which one in presence here; 

and one aboue, whome no one male saye naye, 

which one on high is but that only one, 

that makes my harte to serue this one alone. 294 

" To serue and love, to love and eke to serue ; 

to serue with loue, and loue by service showe ; 

to shewe the due that fauore maye deserue ; 

to merritt well, and wish ech one do so : 

to wish, and will, to serue, and still to loue, 

one Queene on Earth, one God in heauen above. 300 

" A Phenix hath no fellowe to be founde ; 

Blest be the Birde, and she that is as rare : 

Excellence shewes where virtue is the grounde, 

suche fruicts doe growe as only Heauenly are, 

and ending thus, Je di et bien diray, 

Vng Je ayne, et vng Je seruiray." 306 

[Henry Herbert, 2nd Earl of Pembroke ; elected a Knight 
1574. His motto " JJng je serviray.^' He was the husband 
of the lady immortalized by Ben Jonson as " Sydney's 
sister, Pembroke's mother," who died 1621. The Earl died 
1601, being ancestor of the present Earls of Pembroke and 

The K)ii(j1tts of the Garter. 127 

[If. 18.] [drawing.] 

Then did approche A Baron standing by, 

" Souereigne," q«od hee, " Je vous diray vne chose ; 

You maie Conceaue, and he that list to trye 

shall finde by pi'oofe, que Desir n'ha repose ; 

Myselfe haue tride, and harde it ofte confest, 

that in respect Desire doth neuer rest, 312 

" Desire doth sett both witt and will to worke, 

Desire doth worke in secrett of devise, 

Desire doth seeke where secrett's closlye lurke, 

Desire discryes the dutye of the wise. 

Desire is suche as worlde cannot inclose, 

which makes me saye, Desir n'ha repose. 318 

" Desire sometyme doth sore aboue the skyes, 

Desire agayne doth penetrate the Earth, 

ore Sea and Lande Desire fleeting flyes, 

one while in care, an other while in Myrth : 

So that Desire, amid'st Ten thowsand wose, 

both lyves and dyes, Et iamais n'ha repose." 324 

[Charles Howard, 2nd Lord Howard of Effingham ; 
elected a Knight in 1575 ; created Earl of Nottingham 1597; 
Lord High Admiral, etc. His motto, " Desir na repos''' He 
died 1624, and was succeeded by his two sons in succession, 
on the death of the last of whom, in 1681, the Earldom of 
Nottingham became extinct, but the Barony descended to the 
descendants of a younger son of the first Lord, and is still 
enjoyed by the present Earl of EfiSngham.] 

[If. 19.] [drawing.] 

Then last of all came forth, with comlye grace, 

a grave good Sir, who saide, " ludicio meo ; 

Fortune dothe beare a duble dealing face; 

I seeke for noughte but Auspicante Deo, 

And helpe me, God, my harte hath his desire, 

no hap to heauen, once there I wish no higher. 330 

** If God before I followe with goodwill ; 

If god geue helpe, I wishe no better hap ; 

If God geue hap, it cannot fall owte yll : 

well springes the tree where god doth geue y® sap : 

wherfore saye I, that in ludicio meo, 

nothing thryues well but Auspicante Deo. 33G 

128 The Knights of the Garter. 

"And God at hand nothing can thrive amis3, 

for God dotli helpe the hoping harte at need : 

Both highe and lowe will all agree in this, 

God guyde the hand, the worke will better speed ; 

Then take of me this worde, Judicio nieo, 

I worke and wishe but Auspicante Deo." 342 

[Sir Francis Walsingham, Principal Secretary of State, 
appointed Chancellor of the Order 22 April, 1578, which 
he resigned ten years afterwards. His motto, "Auspicante 
Deo." This office has since 1671 been held by the Bishop 
in whose diocese Windsor is situated.] 

[If. 20.] 

Thus when eche one had geuen vp his Bende, 

her Highnes rose from forth her cheare of state — 

" I thancke you all," quod shee, " and for an ende, 

Longe male your daycs w/th myne rest fortunate !" 

Wherwith they all made humble reverence then, 

and all th'assembly saide thereto, " Amen ! " 348 

The Trumpettcs blewe, and Heralds lowd did call, 

" Sortez, Seigneurs, chascun a son Logis." 

The Nobl's rose, and thence departed all, 

them to disrobe, as vse and custome is ; 

And as the Earle of Bedforde past by, 

" nowe, good my Lorde, remember me," qtiod I. 354 

Wm. Teshe. 

Guilielmus Tesheus .•. composuit, scrlpsit, e^ plnxit : 
An° Dom 1582. 

In an old MS. in the Herald's College, marked "2^ E. 8," 
part 2, page 2, occurs : "The proper words of the Lords of the 
Order of the Garter. 

The Queues, Semper eadem. 

The Empror, Phis ultra. 

The Kinge of Spayne, Nee spe nee metu. 

The Kniylds of the Garter. 


The Duke of Sayvoye, 

The Duke of Memorancy, 

The Duke of Hoist/ 

Erie of Arundell, 

Erie of Darby, 

The Marc|ues of Wynchester, 

Erie of Penbrok, 

The Duke of Norfolke, 

The Lord Clynton, 

The L. Pagett, 

The Mquis Northainp, 

Erie of Westmoreland, 

Erie of Rutland, 

The L. W. Haward, 

Erie of Sussex, 

Erie of Shrewsbery, 

L. of Loughborough,- 

Viscount Montague, 

Erie of Lesteter, 

L. Grey Wylton, 

L. of Hunsden, 

Erie of Bedford, 

Fert, Fert. 

Virtutis laus actio. 

Sans ckangier. 

Aymes loyalte. 

line je serviray. 

Sola virtus invicta. 

Loyalte na honte. 

Per il siio contrario. 

Amour avecque loyalte. 

Esperance me comforte. 

Pour y parvenier. 

Desire na repos. 

Virtus propter se. 

Prest accomplir. 

La victoire vient de Dieu. 

Suyves raison. 

Droict et loyal. 


Come je treuve. 

Che sara sara." 

In 1582 three stalls were vacant, and of the foreign knights — 
viz. The Emperor Kudolph (of Germany), The King of SjDain, 
The King of France, The King of Denmark, Duke of Holstein, 
Casimir Count Palatine — our author takes no notice, giving the 
mottoes only of the sixteen English Knights and of the Chancellor, 
which (with the above nine) makes up the complete number of 
twenty-five. It is somewhat curious that the Chancellor of the 
Order is treated by Teshe in the same way as an actual Knight. 

' "Jealousy of the power of Eric (King of Sweden) had induced the King of 
Denmark to set up a rival suitor in the person of Adolphus, Duke of Holstein. 
The prince was young, handsome, and (which exalted him more in the eyes of 
Elizabeth) a soldier and a conqueror. On his arrival, he was received with 
honour, and treated with peculiar kindness. lie loved and was beloved. The 
Queen made him Knight of the Garter ; she granted him a pension for life ; still, 
she could not be induced to take him for her husband." — Lingard, vol. vi. p. 32. 

^ Henry Hastings, who succeeded his father in 1560 as Earl of Huntingdon, 
had been previously summoned (viz. in 1558) as Lord Hastings, and from his 
connexion with Loughborough was doubtless often called Lord of Loughborough. 


[Ash. MS. 36, 37, fol. 303.] 

Co tF)e t)lc00eti ^ainct of famose memory OBli^aljetf) 
'Cge gumfale prtinon of i)tt note tncctcljEti and con= 
tnnptifale pe Coinmom of Cl;nglanti^ 

This lamentation is, on the wliole, not a dull production. The 
■writer, whoever he was, must have been an enthusiastic admirer 
of the " Maiden Queen." Perhaps the lines — 

♦' No snuffling raskall, with his home pipe nose, 
Shall tell thy .story in his ill-tun'd prose — 

show him to have had a certain hostility to the Puritans. We 
seem to have a foretaste in theni of some of the happiest pas- 
sages of Hudibras. 

If Sa*^^' in heauen can either see or heare, 

Or helpe poore mortalls, then lende thine eare ; 

Locke doune, blest S''', and heare, o heare vs now, 

AVhose humble heartes low as o*" knees do bow. 4 

Looke on our sufferings, thinke but on o"" wrongs, 

That hardly can bee spoke w"^ niortall toungs. 

O bee not noAv lesse gratiouse then of olde, 

When each distressed vassall might bee bolde^ 8 

In to thy open handes to put his greife, 

And thence receaue timely and faire releife ; 

Bee not lesse good, lesse gratiouse then before. 

In Heauen, y^ supplications of y® poors 12 

Are hearde as soone as suites of greatest kings. 

If o*' petitions, then (Blest Set), want wings 

To mounte them to the ludge of ludges throne, 

O helpe then (mighty Soueraine!) w'*^ thine owne; 16 

Carry o"^ lust complaintes, since lust they ar, 

And make a tendar of them at y* Barr 

' The same method of hearing petitions is alluded to by Puttenham in the 
poem previously given {ante page 90, lines 507-9) : 

" And take the bills with thine owne hande 
Of clowne and carle, of knight and swayne, 
Who list to thee for right complayne." 
It is the well-known and favourite trick of personal government. Miss Strickland 
(■' Lives of the Queens of England," vol. vii. p. 127) has told us : 

" In her progresses she was always most easy of approach; private persons, and 
magistrates, men, women, and children, came joyfully, and without any fear, to 

wait upon her and to see her She took with her own hand, and read with 

the greatest goodness, the petitions of the meanest rustics, and disdained not to 
speak kindly to them, and to assure them that she would take a particular care 
of their affairs." — That Elizabeth knew how to make herself a popular soTercign 
in this respect and all others is pnlpahle to any one who studies hfr character fairly. 

Great Eliza. 131 

Where no corruption, nor no Frelnde, nor Bribe, 

Nor griping Lawier, auaritiouse Scribe, 20 

No Fauorite, no Parasite, nor Minion, 

Can either leade, or alter y® opinion 

Of y* greate Chancellor ; — ^^theire lay them doune, 

And meritt praise on earth, in heauen renowne. 24 

Where to begin (deseruar of all glory), 

Or how to tell our vnexampled story, 

Heauen knows wee do not know ; nay, w"** is worst, 

Thy once blest subiects haue so oft been curst 28 

For offering vp petitions in this kinde. 

As still wee tremble, till wee call to minde 

Thy woonted goodnesse : that, oh y*^ doth cheare vs, — 

That onlj^ giues vs hope y* thou wilt heare vs. 32 

When Heauen was pleasd (Blest S*'') to call thee hence, 

And so make wretched (for some great offence) 

This littell He, Oh then began our feares ; 

Oh had wee then y® kingdome drown'd in teares, 30 

And in y® floods conuaied our soules to Heauen, 

To waite on thine, we had not now beene driuen 

To cry, and call thee from thy fellow Saincts 

To heare, and pitty these our iust complaintes. 40 

O pardon these our grosse omissions, 

And deigne to furthar these our poor petitions, 

And wee will make the name of great Eliza 

Equall y® honors of y*^ great Maria. 44 

No snuffling raskall, w"* his home pipe nose, 

Shall tell thy story in his ill-tun'd prose ; 

Nor show thy statue to each petty groome : 

Thy monument wee'le builde shall make proude Roome 48 

On Pilgremage to come, ad at thy Shrine 

Offer theire giftes, as to a thing diuine. 

And on thy altar, fram'd of richest stones, 

We'le daily tendar teares, and sighs, and grones. 52 

Eternity shall sleepe, and long-tounged fame 

Forget to speake e're wee forgett thy name. 

Reade (blessed Soule), o reade it, and beleeue vs; 

Then giue it to his handes y* can releeue vs. 5fi 

Thy perpetuall and faithfuU Beadesmcn 
the distressed comons of Englaudc. 


[Harl. MS. 367, leaf 151.] 

"Cgr ^n^Uiftt to tljt %ihtU callcti 

%f)t Com^?2on0 trarc0 : 
%f)t tPipci* of t^t tjroplc0 trarc0, 

-CJjc tirpcr tjp of doubts anti Uam* 

Of this poem, which breathes the very spirit of the servile reign 
of the First James, I cannot discover the author. Whoever he 
was, lie was well penetrated with the doctrine of the divine right 
of kings, one of the favourite points advocated by the British 
Solomon. Ilis adulation reaches its height in such lines as — 
" God and kings doe pace together." 

stay yo(^>- teares, you who complaine, 
and saye as babes doe all in vaine. 

Purblind people, why doe you prate ? 

too sliallowe for the depth of state, 4 

You cannot iudge wliats truely mj'ne, 

who see noe farther than the rine.^ 
Kings walke the railkye heavenly way ; 

but 3'ou by b^-e pathes gad astray. 8 

God and Kings doe pace together ; 

but vulgars wander light as feather. 

1 should be sorry you should see 

my actions before they be 12 

brought to the full of my desires : 

god aboue men Kings inspires. 
Hold you the publique beaten way ; 

wonder at Kings, and them obey ; 16 

For vnder God they are to chuse 

what rights to take, what to refuse. 
"Whereto, if you will not consent, 

yet hold yo;o- peace, least you repent, 20 

And be corrected for yo^O' pride, 

that Kings designes dare thus deride, 
by raylinge rymes and vaun tinge verse, 

w/i/ch your Kings breast should neuer peirce. 24 

' Eind. "(f has a great affinity for «, and often is brought into a word by 
the n as a sort of shadow. In the words impound, expound, from the Latin 
imponn, expono, the d is a pure English addition; so likewise in sound from 
French so)i, Latin sonus. Provincial phonetics go still further, and call a gown 
ffownd." — Earlc, Philology of the English Tongue, 1st edition, 1871. 

Play not iciih Kings. 133 

Religion is the right of Kings, 

and they knowe best what good it brings ; 
Whereto you must submitt your deeds, 

or be puld vp like stinkinge weeds. 2S 

Kings euer vse there instruments, 

of whome they iudge by the events ; 
The good they cherish and advance, 

and many things may come by chance. 32 

Content yo^^r selues w/th such as I 

shall take neare me & place high. 
The men you mou'd seru'd in there tyme, 

and soe may myne, as cleare of cryme. 36 

All seasons haue there proper* vents, 

and bringe forth seuerall events ; 
AYhereof the choice doth rest in Kings, 

who punish and reward them brings. 40 

O, what a callinge were a Kinge 

if he might giue or take nothinge 

but such as you shall to him bringe ! 
Such were a Kinge but in a playe, 44 

if he might beare noe greater swaye ; 
And then were you in worser case, 

if soe to keep your ancient face ; 
Your face would soone outface his might, 48 

if soe you would abridge his right. 
Alas ! fond men, play not w/th Kings, 

w/th Lyons clawes, or serpents stings ; 
They kill euen by there sharpe aspect ; 52 

the proudest mynde they can deiect ; 
Make w^retched the most mighty man, 

though he doe mutinye what he can. 
your censures are a hurryinge round, 56 

that rise as vapours from the ground. 
I knowe when it shalbe most fitt, 

w/th whome to fill and empty it. 
The Parliament I will appoint 60 

when I see things more out of ioynt. 
Then will I sett all wrye things straight, 

and not vpon your pleasure waite ; 
where if you speake as wise men should ; 64 

if not, by me you shalbe schoold. 
was euer Kinge calld to account, 

or euer mynde soe high did mount 

134 Keep every man his rank. 

as for to knowe the cause and reason, 68 

and to appoint the meanes and season, 
when Kings should aske there subiects ayde ? 

Kings cannott soe be made afrayde ; 
Kings will comwmnd, and find the way 72 

how all of you may easiest paye, 
yvhich they'le lay out as they thinke best, 

in ernest, and somet3^mes in iest. 
what counsells should be ouerthrowne 76 

if all were to the people knowne ! 
And to noe vse were Counsell Tables, 

if State affaires were publique babies. 
I make noe doubt all wise men knowe 80 

this were the way to all our woe ; 
For ignorance of causes makes 

soe many grosse and foule mistakes. 
The modell of our Princely match 84 

you cannot make, but marre or patch. 
Alas ! how weake would proue your care ! 

wish onely you his best welfare. 
your patience cannot waite our ends, 88 

soe mixt they are twixt foes & frends ; 
whereof againe, ne're seeinge people, 

straine not to see soe high a steeple : 
Looke on the ground whereon you goe, 92 

higher aspects will bringe your woe. 
Take heed yo?/r places all be true ; 

doe not discontents renue ; 
Meddle not w/th your Princes cares : 96 

for who soe doth, too much he dares. 
I doe desire noe more of you, 

but to knowe me as I knowe you ; 
Soe shall I loue, & you obey, 100 

& you loue me in a right way. 
O make me not vnwillinge still, 

whome I would saue, vnwillinge kill : 
Examples in extremity 104 

are neuer the best remedy : 
Thus haue I pleasd my selfe, not you, 

and what I say you shall find true. 
Keepe euery man his ranke and place, los 

and feare to fall in my disgrace. 


The Cradle Kings. 135 

You call our children chidds ^ of state, 

you claime a right vnto their fate ; 
But knowe you must be pleasd w^th what 112 

shall please vs best in spite of that. 
Kings doe make lawes to bridle you, 

which, they may pardon, or imbrue 
there hands in the best blood you haue, 116 

and send the greatest to his graue. 
The Charter, w/^/ch you great doe call, 

came first from Kings, to stay your fall : 
From an vniust rebellion, moued 120 

by such as Kingdomes little loued. 
Imbrace noe more you well may hold, 

as often doth the ouerbold. 
As they did who your Charter sought 124 

For there owne greatnesse, w'ho soe wrought 

w/th Kings and you, thai all prou'd nought. 
The loue that Kings haue to you borne 

moud them thereto for to be sworne ; 123 

For where smale goods are to be gott 

were knowne to them thai knowes vs not. 
yet you, that knowe me all soe well, 

why doe you push me downe to hell 132 

by makeinge me an Infidell ? 
Tis true I am a cradle Kinge,^ 

yet doe remember euery thinge 
That I have heretofore put out, 136 

and yet begin not for to doubt. 
Oh how grosse is your device, 

change to impute to Kings as vice ! 
The wise may chaunge, yet free from fault ; UO 

though change to worse is euer nought. 
Kings euer overreach you all, 

and must stay you, though thai ther all fall. 
Kings cannot comprehended be 144 

in Comwions mouths, coniure ye 
all what you can, by teares or termes, 

deny not what the Kinge affirmes. 

* Probably the same as the word "chits" still found in provincial dialects. 
Cf. Halliwell, Chit, a forward child. 

^ Probably referring to the circumstance that James was proclaimed king 
while an infant of little more than a twelvemonth old, owing to the deposition 
of his mother (July 2-1, lo67). 

136 The King's Angry Brow. 

He doth disdaine to cast an eye 148 

of anger on you, least you dye, 
euen at the shadowe of his face ; 

yet giues to all thai sue for grace. 
I knowe my freiuds, I need noe teachinge ; 152 

prowd is the foolish ouerreachinge. 
leaf 152 b. Come counsell me when I shall call ; 

wherefore beware of what may fall. 
Kings will hardly take advice 156 

of Counsells ; they are wondrous nice ; 
Loue and wisedome lead them still 

there Counsell tables vp to fill : 
They need not helpes in there choice ; 160 

the best advice is there owne voice, 
And be assured thai such be Kings 

as they vnto there Counsell brings, 
w/«'ch alwayes soe com;;?cndod are 164 

as some would make, & some would marre. 
If I once bend my angry browe, 

your ruine comes, though not as now ; 
For slowe I am reuenge to take, 168 

and your amendmc;its wrath will slake. 
Then hold your pratlinge, spare your penne, 

be honest and obedient men ; 
vrge not my Justice, I am slowe 172 

to giue you your deserued woe : 
If p;'oclamac/ons ^ will not serue, 

I must doe more peace to preserue, 
To keep all in obedience, 176 

to driue such busie bodies hence. 

' By statute 31 Henry VITI. the proclamations of the sovereign were declared 
as valid as acts of parliament, although, it is tme, certain restrictions were im- 
posed. Many of these rescripts, as they might justly be called, were very 
whimsical. Thus in 1580 the erection of houses within three miles of London 
was forbidden, on account of the too great increase of the city. 


[Ash. MS. 36, 37, f. 303.] 

Co tU ()ig{) ann migbtp, tf)t most piouse 
auD mrrcifuU, pe tf^tih CijanccUoc of ipcaum anti 
3iuDge of C-arrlj; 

-Cfic mo0t Inimblc |Bttition0 of pc pooit tiiismisgieD 
Coimwonjs of long afflictcti dt'iigiaiiDr* 

The production of some poetaster who, at the beginning of the 
reign of James I., bewails the lost glories of the Elizabethan 
epoch. The lamentation upon the death of Prince Henry, James's 
eldest son, which occurred Nov. 6th, 1612, prol)ably shows the 
author to have been a Puritan, and will assist in fixing the date 
of the poem. 

If bleeding soules, delected heartes, find grace, 

Then, all disposer, turne not back thy face 
From TS thy supplicants. Thrice Heauens Suns have worne 

Their Summer sutes, since wee began to mourue ; 4 

Egipts ten plagues wee haue indur'd twise tolde. 

Since blest Eliza was with Saincts inrol'de. 
Thy messengers of wrath theire violls power 

Each day vpon our heads ; nay, euery hower 8 

Plagues begett plagues, and fruitefull vengeance growes, 

As if there were no ende sett to our woes. 
Haue our black sinnes (0 God) raised such a cloude 

Twixt Ileauen and vs, as cryes, though ne're so loude, 12 
Can get no passage to thy mercy seate ? 

Are our iniquities (good God) so greate, 
So infinite, as neither grones nor teares 

Can entertainement gett ? Kemember but y® yeares 1 6 
Of o' affliction ; then forgett, we craue. 

Our sins ; bury them in y'' deepest graue 
Of darke obliuion ; hide them in y® side 

Of our Redeemer : o let them bee tide 20 

In chaines, y* they may neuar rise again. 

Lett vs no longer sue, or cry in vaine ; 
Lett this our supplication, this complainte. 

Tendered by our late Souereigne thy Sainct, 24 

138 Prince Hcmry. 

At last finde grace. "Wast not, wee humbly pray, 

Enough y* first thou tookest y* Queene away ? 
Was not y'' Doue, y* Lambe of innocence. 

Sufficient sacrifise for our offence ? 28 

Ah, no ! our sins oute liu'd her, and our crimes 

Did threaten to outeliue y® last of times. 
Thou didst remoue her y* shee might not see 

The sad beginnings of our misery. 32 

Had Egipt thicker darkenesse then had wee. 

When clearest eyes at mid day coulde not see P 
Vnholsom mistes, strange foggs, rumors of warrs, 

Euill portending Commetts, biasing starrs, 3G 

Prodigiouse births, and most vn^aturall seasons. 

Putting Philosophers quite besides theire reasons, 
Frightning y® poore, and y® ritch exhorting 

To leaue theire downy beds, wheare they ly snorting. 40 
Heauen in combustion seemes, y® sky in amies. 

The Starrs beate drums, y® Spheares do sounde alarums, 
The aire did often bloody cullers spredd, 

And all to rouse vs from y*^ lazy bedd 44 

Of base Security : yet nought woulde fright vs, 

Till wee weere rob'd of what did most delite vs, 
Henry our ioy.^ Henry, whose euery limme 

Threatned to conquer death, and not death him : 48 

Henry y^ pride, eauen Hen^'^ry y® blest. 

On whome great Britaine sett vp her greate rest : 
Who had not in y* one an ample share ? 

What Subiect had not rather lost his Heyre ? ^-2 

^ Prince Henry, eldest son of James, to whom Queen Elizabeth was god- 
mother, born Feb. 19, 1593, died Nov. 6, 1612. The young prince was very 
popular, especially among the Puritan party, who were in the habit of saying — 
" Henry the Eighth pulled down the abbeys and cells. 
But Henry the Ninth shall pull down bishops and bells." 
Very extravagant hopes were formed of this youth, which perhaps had in reality 
but little foundation. He died suddenly of a fever, and suspicion was even cast 
upon his father, so extravagant was the national sorrow. This may perhaps have 
been augmented, if not originated, by the well-known fact that the King and his 
son had not been always on the best of terms. Lingard says : " There existed 
but little affection between him and his father. James looked on him with feelings 
of jealousy, and even of awe ; and the young prince, faithful to the lessons which 
he had formerly received from his mother, openly ridiculed the foibles of his 
father, and boasted of the conduct which he would pursue when he should succeed 
to the throne." — Lingard, ed. 1854, vol. vi. p. 64. 

2 This letter was added above by the copyist, who observed that the line wanted 
another syllable. 

The Pt'omoten. 139 

What tendar Mother did not wish y'^ darte 

Had glanced from him, and strooke her Darlings harte? 
All y*^ wcere vertuose, all y* weere good, 

Turned theire weepings (sic) eyes to streames of blood. 56 
But thine anoyted (sic) needes must leaue y® Citty 

Before it bee distroyed, such is thy pitty, 
And such thy pitty. Are theire yet full ten ? 

Is theire (greate God) a number les of men 60 

Whose innocence may slack thy kindled ire, 

And keepe this Sodom Britaine from y^ fire 
Of thy just anger? Is there yet a soule 

Whose vertue power hath but to controle 64 

Thine heau'd vp hande of iustice ? If there bee, 

For his or her sake rouse thy clemency. 
Awake thy mercy, let thy iustice slumberr. 

And saue y*' greater for y^ lesser numberr. 68 

For his or her sake, we do humbly pray 

Respitt of time : giue vs a longer day ; 
And then, inabled by thy grace and Fauor, 

Wee'le purchesse Pardon by our good behauior. 72 

Plague,^ famine, darkenesse, Inundations, 

We haue indured ; feare of innouations, 
■yyth expectation of y® worst can follow. 

Daily torments vs : and wee howerly swallow 76 

Our very spittell eauen w'*^ feare and horror ; 

We nightly sleepe w*^ care, awake w^^ terror. 
Nor are wee all this time from vermine free — 

The Catterpiller hanges on euery tree : 60 

Lousy Promoters,^ Monopoly-Mungers^ 

A crew of vpstarte rascalls, whose firse hungers 

' In 1604 the plague raged in England: in that same year (the first Parlia- 
ment of James) an Act was passed that no one should leave his house, while 
suifering from the plague, under the penalty of death ; provision was also made 
for a rate for the support of the infected. 

2 Informers. Cf. an epigram by Sir John Harrington against " Promoters," 
beginning — 

" Base spyes, disturbers of the publique rest, 
With forged wrongs the trew mans ryght that wrest." 
(From a MS. copy of the epigrams in my possession in the handwriting of Sir John.) 

^ The question of monopolies, which had become a standing abuse in the reign 
of Elizabeth, was very keenly debated in the reign of James I., who had freely 
betaken himself to this method of recompensing his needy courtiers. In 1621 
Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Mitchell, — the former of whom sat for the 
portrait of Massinger's Sir Giles Overreach, — having been detected in very gross 

140 Our Sufferings worse ihan Job's. 

Can ne're bee satisfied : a sorte of slaues, 

Far more insatiate then are whores, or graues : 84 

A sorte of vpstarte Parasites y* rise, 

And do more mischeif then Egiptian flyes. 
Haue wee no froggs ? o yes, in euery ditch, 

Deuouring y® poore, impouerishing y^ ritch, 88 

Busy InteUigencers, base Informers, 

Like Toades and froggs, by croking in all corners, 
Promoting rascalls, whose inuenom'd toungs 

Have donne thy suppliants infinite of wronges. 92 

Where they desire to enter, there's no defence,^ 

No ancient title, no Inheritance, 
Can keepe them oute : they search and strech y'' Law, 

Keepe Magistrates and officers in awe : 96 

They pluck y® Ballance from faire lustice fist, 

And make her Ministers do what they list. 
There is no equity, no Law, nor Right ; 

All causes go by fauor or by might. 100 

God of Mercy, what more can bee saide ? 

lustice is bought and soldo, becom a Trade : 
Honor's confer'd on base vnworth}^ groomes. 

And Clownes, for gaine, may perch in highest Rooraes. 104 
Jobb had full many scabbs, yet none so bad 

As wee these one and twenty yeares haue had. 
Egipte had botches, many scares y* smarted. 

But yet they lasted not, they soone departed. 108 

Halfe fowerty yeares in this sad wildernesse 

"Wee now have trauael'd ; is there no redresse ? 
Bowman, and lolex, Ringwood and his Mate,^ 

Compar'd w'^'* vs, are in a better state : 112 

abuses of this privilege, were degraded from knighthood and fined. The matter 
was temporarily set at rest by 21 Jac. I., which declared all monopolies to he 
contrary to law, and all such grants to be void. Charles I., however, in his 
straits, produced by the constant antagonism of the Parliament, attempted to 
renew them, and, as Clarendon says : " Obsolete laws were revived and vigorously 
executed, wherein the subjects might be taught how unthrifty a thing it was, by 
too strict detaining of what was his, to put the King as strictly to inquire what 
was his own." An ingenious but unsatisfactory defence. 

' The great height to which this scandalous custom of granting patents had 
reached is well shown in the third volume of Lodge's " Illustrations of English 

2 Who these individuals were I am unable to ascertain after a careful search 
in the Calendar of State Papers for the reign of James L, including other 
probable sources of information. 

The iq)sfart Parasites. 141 

They can be hearde, they can bee rewarded, 

AVhen wee are curst, slei^hted, and vnregarded. 
Is tlicre a People (o Ileauen) fallen a degree 

Below y® Condition of a dogg but wee ? 116 

"Was there a nation in the Yniuerse 

More daring once, more bold, more stoute, more feirce ? 
And is there now vpon y® worldes broad face 

Any y' can be reconed halfe so base ? 120 

Is there a people so much scornd, despis'd, 

So laught at, baffled, and so vassaliz'd ? 
"Where's auncient nobility becomme ? 

Alas ! they are suppress'd, and in theire roome, 124 

Like proud insulting Luciferrs, there sitts 

A sorte of vpstarte fawning Parasitts. 
Where's y« Gentry ? ^ 

* The piece terminates thus somewhat abruptl)-. On the next page of the 
MS. is an amatory poem, beginning — " Diana cecill, that rare beauty thou doest 



Hettec from Jobn Dottini^nge to bis frienn TSlanU.' 

This is an epistle from a certain John Downjnige, of Rye, in 
Sussex, to his friend, who has left the neighbourhood suddenly : 
it begins in verse, but ends in prose. Candlewick Sti-eet, A.S. 
wic ; of. Alnwick, Smethwick, Norwich, etc. : so called from 
the Candlemakers, who originally inhabited it ; it was in the 
ward of Thomas de Basinge. See Memorials of London, by 
Riley, p. 3. To tliem succeeded woollen-cloth weavers from 
Flanders, who were settled in this street by Edward III. 
"There were then," says Stow, "in this city weavers of divers 
sorts, to wit, of Drapery, Tapery, and Napery." Cf. also 
Lydgate, in the Ballad of " The London Lyckpenny " — 

Then went I forth by London Stone, 

Throughout all Canwick Street : 
Drapers much cloth nie oflercd anon ; 

Then comes me one cried ' hot sheep's feet ; ' 
One cried mackerel, rushes green, another gan greet, 

One bad me buy a hood to cover my head ; 
But, for want of money, I might not be sped. 

John Bland was an old name in the City ; a John Bland was 
Mayor in 1303 (Stow's Survey, ed. Strype, book i. p. GO), but 
perhaps the name is more correctly given as John Blount, or 
John le Blund. 

[Tanner MS. 30G, fol. 181.] 

To wryte you comendations, : or send you salutations, 

Beyng your yll fash3'ons, : yt were but in va^i-ne. 

I leave yt therefore, : & kepe yt in store, 

where manors are more, : I tell ye in playne ; 

for what maj'e I ludge : of suche a suvege^ 

awaye so to truege : w/th out takj^ng his leave? 

I tooke ye, my frend, : as ye do preteude ; 

but nowe, in the ende, : ye do me dysceave. 

ye cam) in the evenyng, : & found me a wry ting, 

about letters sendyng : consernyng my charge. 

in goynge your Avaj^e, : then dyd ye not saye 

that the next daye : we shulld taulke at large ? 

in the mornyng I went : for the same intent, 

' On the back of the letter is the following superscription : " To his frend 
Mr. Bland, drapr;-, in Caiidlewicke Strete, be this delivered. London, to his 
owne hands." The handwriting and orthography of tliese four pieces present 
great difficulties, which are increased by the torn and soiled condition of the 
paper. In many instances conjecture has been of necessity employed. 

'^ sic. ? savage. 

CommeiidafioiiS to the Crew. 143 

w/th Lart well bent, 
but you were goiiJ, 
to Ibrmans ' anonJ ; 
w/th out all honestye, 
as voyde of Scyvyllj'tye, 
in vr/iich your sayde part 
as sayde my consart, 
for she thought verylye 
at dj'nner, I assure ye, 
but nothyng raystrustyng 
w/th out further metynge, 

to the place where ye laj'e ; 

& I ther vponJ 

but you hastyd^ awayo 

or pai't of humanyto, 

Lyke one out of kynde. 

there wantyd good hart, 

who ys of my mj^nde ; 

we shuUd have lawghfft merylye 

& so had prepar3-d ; 

your suddyng departjmg 

she was cleane desevyd. 

forcyd for want of tyme to a brevyate my meter, I conclude 
the rest in prowes : surelye & oft' my faythe I & my wyfe 
bothe were offend3^d at your suddenJ depa/-ture; patyens^ 
[and] I ment to have taulkyd w/th you conscrnyng thj-ngs 
for you/' comodyte : & a part towchyng my frend mJ 
carmardenJ : to home ommytt not my hartye coraendations, 
•with thaynks for my great chere ; when oportunj'tye shall 
serve, I shalbe redye to requytt parrt. to rnj parker my frend ; 
to mj greves, your frend and m}^ adoptyde Sonn, & heyre off 
the halfi" aker beyonde S. georgs,"* Do my comendat/o/^.s : the 
Lyke omytt not to good nv champyon : & leave not out the 
rest of the Crewe : god blesse you all, & send my sonne 
greves quyetnes w/th an vnytye & perfitt amyttye bytwenJ 
hymj & mj edward parker ! 

& thus restyng yowrs : requyrynge you mjme the lyke 
vnfaynyd as permit frends, & lov3'ng bretherin of one 
howsse & consangu3'n3't3'e : leave not in oblyv3^on my 
hart3^e salutations to mJ Io° smythe. 

& yff 3-e W3dl, sa3'e the lyke to m3'strys coldwell. fare 3^0 
well & god send vs peace. Amen. 

from Hye, the 18 of everell, 1561, y^oe^rs In° downynge, in 
hast, I assure 3'ou, as aper3'the. 

^ Perhaps related to Sir Wm. Forman who was Lord Mayor in 1538 (Gough 
MS. List of Lord Mayors and Sheriffs). 

* So corrected by the writer from icere ryd. 
^ Patience ; no doubt the name of his wife. 

* Perhaps St. George's, Southwark. Cf. Stow, book iv. p. 27 (ed. 1720). 
"In this l,ane (Paris Garden) is Groves Court, consisting of small houses." It 
will be observed that the names of most of these citizens recur in the letters : 
they were, no doubt, good, substantial, and "proper" men of their time, but it 
would be idle, in the majority of instances, to disiui'b their ashes. 

^r 0. 


Letters from tbe Deuenter Creto ' to tfte 
CantleUiick Crett). 

Two letters in verse from Paul Peresonne and Arthur Mawd, 
Wardens of the De venter Crew, to the Crew in Candle wick 
Street, and the answer. The history of these singular com- 
positions appears to be, that in April, 1561, some wild young 
English merchants settled at Antwerp played a practical joke 
on some grave London citizens by addressing them in a set of 
rhj'mes, as if they were roysteriug free-livers like themselves. 
The first letter remained unanswered, and then probably, deter- 
mined to elicit a reply of some kind, the writers despatched a 
second letter, merely an altered version of the other, with the 
addition of a prose preamble, which produced a strong poetical 
remonstrance from the worthy seniors, who are greatly scandalized 
at the imputations cast upon them. These pieces, and the answer 
of the Candlewick Crew, are undoubtedly original. The paper 
is worn and soiled, and so damaged at the edges that the words 
bracketed had to be su[)plied. The hand is a coarse secretary 
one, with numerous flourishes and contractions. The two letters 
from the " Deventer Crewe " were written by diiferent persons. 
The handwriting and orthography are those of the London 
citizen of the time, precisely as we find in the Diary of Henry 

These pieces of quaint doggerel have no value except as giving 
us an insight into the manners of the time, and showing us 
the hearty geniality and too-often coarse horse-play of our 
ancestors. The City guilds were in a very flourishing condition 
in the time of Elizabeth : we were fast making our country the 
greart shop of Europe: the nickname of "la nation boutiquicre," 
which the bafiied rivalry of a neighbouring nation has fixed upon 
us, was becoming more than ever approjiriate. This is not the 
place, however, to attempt anything like a sketch of the history 
of the Great English Companies. 

1 Deventer on tlie Yssel, formerly the capital of Overyssel : a strong place, 
•with extensive trade. Tliomas a Kempis died there. It was besieged and taken 
by Maurice of Nassau, 1591. 

TJie virtues of John BlaiuL 145 

[Tanner MS. 306, fol. 178.] 

Lawes Deo Semper ! Le .3. iour De Ap>-ell, 15G1. Stillo 

Hauynge opportunytye of tyme to cawite to memory e your 
Jentett Commendacyons Lattelye by vs Receyvj'd, for the 
which, as yett we Reste your Dettares, ettc. The Cawes 
where off was ontt^^e for Lacke of A trustye frynde for 
Dellyuerye ther-off : w/^ich E-esonnable Exskewess we Dowte 
not Butt you witt Exsepte, and ouv Loue, ettc. 

So Lycke as your Commendacyons, by vs in alt poynts hathe 

byn vzid, 
So hoppe we in Lycke Case of your ^\e^ure, owres shaft not 

be Refusyd, 
whiche thynge nowe beynge Donne, att ower Reqwestess, 
yow bynd vs at ait tymes, here-aftar, to ffullfytt yower be 

hestes. 4 

And fyrste we wyll Be gyn, with owr moste welbe Lovyd, 
and frend Red3'e at att Dayes, as we haue weH provyd ; 
his name for to Re herse, as yow shatt vnder stand, 
A propper man of parson, whoos name ys John Bland. 8 

A man for his Acktes moste prompte, and att wayes Redye 
To breeke his faste at the Snylle, where he hawthe byn full 

of att men to A begger, I dowe Compare hyra Beste, 
for when his skryppe ys full, he will laye his townge to 

Reste, 12' 

And thus owr mcnynge is, to tacke att owr frendes in order, 
for W2th yow nychollas Spencer, we witt prosede further. 
Vnto yow nowe owr hartye Comendacj^ons we will Dereckte, 
Trustj^nge you will them of yowr ^iQSure wett Exsej)te. I6 

^ Thus addressed on the hack of tlie letter : " To owcr Lovyngc frendes the 
Crewe of Caudelhvicke Stvcttc, this our Lettar be delivered, London. To Eythcr 
of tlier handcs." 

146 Bucldershury. 

And further owr Comendacyons we mowste in no wyse for gett, 

of yow to be Donne, to mysteres weit niett/ 

Dwellynge at the hande in hande weth in Saynte Clements 

aft Evenyngs of yow to be Done, or ells yow are mowclie to 

blame. 20 

We Reqwyer you Dowe owr Commendacyons, to Robarte in 

the hand in hand,^ 
A man of marvellus oneste quattyttcs. By Re porte off lohn 

yf thes owr Commendacyons showld you in anye poynte 

At yower Awnswer here off, we will them amend. 24 

And thus myndynge to haue aft owr frendes in Remembrances, 
with yow Rychard Cliampyon ^ we precede owr Enterances, 
who is on of the Crewe that oftentymes Dowthe macke merr3'e, 
w?th fygges, Reysons and allmondes, Bowghte in Buclares 
Berrye.^ 28 

* Query, "masters, well met." 

* " On the north side of this ward, at the west end of Easteheap, have ye St. 
Clements Lane, a part whereof, on both sides, is of Candlewick Street Ward." 
— Stow, book ii. p. 183. 

3 Probably the name of a drawer, with whom the young idlers of the day 
affected familiarity. ■' Sirrah," says Sliakespere's I'rince Henry, " I am sworn 
brother to a leash of drawers, and can call them all by their Christian names." 

"Your first compliment shall be to giowmost inwardly acquainted with the 
drawers, to learn their names, as Jack, and Will, and Tom." — Decker's Gull's 
IJorn-Book, 1610. 

* "Master Champion, draper," who, in August, 1558, "was chosen Shreyff 
of London by the cimiens of the cete " (H. Machyn's Diary, p. 170). The 
Sheriff was son of Richard Champion, of Godalming, Surrey. He was after- 
wards knighted. Lord Mayor of London 1566, died 1508. His epitaph is in 
Stow, beginning — 

" The Corps of Richard Champion, Knight, 
l^laior and Draper, here doth rest." 
Sir R. Champion died without issue. His wife was Barbara, widow of Alderman 
Ileardson. In Machyn's account of the christening of Thomas White (Feb. 3rd, 
1560-1) she figures as " Masteres Champyon, (tlie) altherman(s) wyff, god- 
mother." She erected a monument in St. Dunstan's-in-the-East, with kneeling 
effigies of herself and her two husbands. 

'The name was a good one in the city, and well reputed, if we judge by its 
civic honours : the following occur among the number : 

1529, 21 Hen. 8. Wm. Champion, Sheriff. 

1530, 22 Hen. 8. Richard Champion, Draper, Sheriff. 
1558, 6 Mary. Richard Champion, Draper, Sheriff. 

1565, 7 Elizabeth. Sir Richard Champion, Draper, Lord Mayor. 
' " Bucklersbury falls into Walbrook, almost against St. Stephen's Walbrook 

The Boar's Head. 147 

Wythe plentye of wyne, fFyityd at the Bores hedd/ 

wcth whiche yow macke the goodinan often tynies to go 

druncke to Bedd ; 
and then, I dowte nott, But w^'th the wyffe 3'ou maye Dowe 

your plesure, — 
Everye man in his course, at his owne Laysare. 32 

Church. After that (in the reign of Henry VI.), the peppercrs or grocers had 
seated themselves in a more open street, to wit, in Bucklesbury, where they yet 
remain" (Stow). Bucklersbury took its name from tlie owner of "one antient 
strong Tower of stone," given by Edward III. to St. Stephen's, "Westminster. 
In course of time it became the property of one Buckle, who set about taking 
it down, to build into a house. But the said Buckle, greedily labouring to pull 
down the old Tower, a piece thereof fell upon him, which so bruised him that 
his life was thereby shortened. " This whole street called Bucklesbury, on both 
the sides throughout, is possessed by Grocers and Apothecaries toward the west 
end thereof." — Stow, ed. 1720, book iii. p. 27. Sec also Memorials of London, 
p. 2o. 

The apothecaries of those days were herbalists. Shakespere has alluded to this, 
when he makes FalstatF speak of the young gallants " as a many of these lisping 
hawthorn buds, that come like women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklers- 
bury in simple time." '1 here must also have been a celebrated tobacconist's shop 
there in the time of Ben Jonson, for he seems to allude to the sign : " I thought 
he would have run mad 0' the black boy in Bucklersbury, that takes the scurvy 
roguy tobacco there" (Bart. Fair, act i. scene 1). 

1 The first mention of this celebrated tavern occurs in the testament of William 
Warden, temp. Richard II., who gave "all that tenement called the Boar's Head 
in Eastcheap" to a college of priests, or chaplains, founded by Sir W. Walworth, 
the Lord Mayor, in the adjoining church of St. iSlichael, Crooked Lane. The 
presence of " I'rince Hal" in this house was no invention of Shakespere: 
history records his pranks, how one night, with his two brothers John and 
Thomas, he made such a riot that they had to be taken before the magistrate. 
No wonder then at the proud inscription on the sign, which still existed in 
Maitland's time: "This is the chief tavern in London." At one time the 
portal was decorated with carved oak figures of FalstafT and Prince Henry; 
and in 1834 the former was in the possession of a brazier of Eastcheap, whose 
ancestors had lived in the shop he then occupied since the Great Fire. On the 
removal of a mound of rubbish at Whitechapel, brought there after the Great 
Fire, a carved boxwood bas-relief boar's head was found, set in a circular frame 
formed by two boar's tusks, mounted and united with silver. An inscription to 
the following effect was pricked at the back: "Wra. Brooke, Landlord of the 
Bore's Hedde, Estchepe, I066." 

" The original inn having been destroyed by the Fire, was rebuilt, and continued 
in existence until 1831, when it was finally demolished, to make way for the 
streets leading to new London Bridge. Its site was between Small Alley and 
St. Michael's Lane. The ancient sign, carved in stone, with the initials J. T. 
and the date 1668, is now preserved in the City of London Library, Guildhall." 
— Hotten's History of Signboards, p. 379. See also a notice in Catalogue of 
Works of Art exhibited at Ironmongers' Hall, vol. ii. pp. 4G5-66. The site is 
now occupied by the monument to William IV. 

Hotten mentions two other Boar's Head inns — one in Southwark, another 
without Aldgate. Of the Snylle (snail) mentioned in the first letter, and the 
Snype in the second, no mention can be found. They were peihaps both the 
invention of the writers. 

148 A nutsical jjarti/. 

Ower welbe Lovyd liamares^ ClyflPe in no wise mowste Be for 

gotten ; 
yf his parson were absente, the Crewe wold Downne the 

who w?th his Lewte Dowthe make the hotte Crewe merry, 
with ( ) Small yes,^ Syngynge, mrs weft mett, shaft 

I Rowe in your wherrye ? 36 

And then Lowcke you cawft Robarte to fyll a pott off alle, 
whifte yow, hamers Clyffe, are skowrynge off her Taylle ; 
and then, Robarts Braynes Beyng troubled in that same Tyme, 
Dowthe brynge you for afte a pott of Frenche wynne. 40 

And thus, hamers Clyffe, with you we wift raacke an Ende, 
prayenge god off his grace untoJ vs a merye raetynge to send, 
yff tyme wold par-mytt, we wold wrytte you more at Large, 
and] thus we praye god, Kepe yow owt off wellses Barge.^ 44 

John Graves, we here Saye, ys on off your Crewe, 

w/c7ch newes vnto vs Dj'd Seme verrye newe ; 

And] knowynge that he the good feftowe Can playe, 

owr mynde ys to haue hym in for on by the waye. 48 

In playenge on the Vergenafts he ys weft skyftyd, 

And on his fyddeft manye tymes weft wiftid, 

aftso on the gyttarne he plaj^es verye well ; 

yett hammers Cliffe on the Lewte Dowthe him far Exseft.^ 52 

When aft thes Instruments are Com to gether, 
no mar-veft thoughe yow haue there-in grette plesure ; 
the meftodye there-of By Rcson showld] be so whette,^ 
That John blandes howes should] be in Dawnger to be 
Dawnsid Down with yowr ffette. 56 

1 sic in this and the following verses. ? Thomas. See Letter immediately 

^ Perhaps this phrase may have arisen from Broken Wharf, " a water gate or 
key, so called, of being broken and fallen down into the Thames." 

^ There is a gap here in the original, and it is very difficult to make any sense. 

* A cant name for the Fleet Prison. The Fleet was anciently the River of 
the Wells, or such a teim might well date from the time of King John, who 
"by his patent, dated the third of his reign, gave to the Archde;icon of Wells 
the custody of the said King's House at Westminster, and his Gaol of the Fleet." 
Stow, book iii. p. 256. 

5 These stanzas fill the leaf, the date is ao^ain superscribed on the v" side as 
follows: Laude A Dio .3. Aprell, 1561. Stillo Romano. 

•^ O.E. wethe, sweet. A.S. wc'Se. 

The Second Letter. 149 

Yett on ther ys of yore Crewe w/«Vh to vs ys vn-knowne, 
The fame off his Dawnsynge to andwarpe is blowne ; 
Syde ys hiss name, as we wift yow teli, 
a-mownge aft the Crewe for Dawnsynge he beres the belt. GO 

To ait the Reste of the Crewe vfhich. we haue not namyd, 
we aske pardon of yow, and not to be Blamyd ; 
for this owr worcke to yow aft we haue Deryctid, 
prayenge yow aft at yowr ferste metynge yt maye be En- 
actyd. 64 

And forther that when So Ever this owr worcke shalbe Redd, 
That on off yo^i^r Crewe for ower Suckses maye go droncke 

to bedd; 
whiche Requeste off you fuftfyftid, we Reste yowr Dettar, 
hoppynge owr ncxte Comendacyons shaft plese yow bettar. 68 

And now thes owr Comendacyons for this tyme beynge Donne, 
from vs yowr owld frendes, arthur maude and pawfte peresonn, 
and aftso not for- gotten, off an other frend as yett vn-knowne, 
Rycharde Carraarden,^ who hathe hym comendid to yow 
Everye on. 72 

The Tyme passythe A-waye, we moste nedes macke an Ende, 

prayenge to the Lyvynge god yow aft to Amendi, 

And aftso To Send vs aft-wayes off his grace. 

And in the hevens Terestyaft A Dweftynge place. 76 

yower Lovynge frendes, 
paufte peresonne, 
arthur mawd. 

Ci)c ^econti letter of tbe DetJenter Cretn. 

This letter is bound up so as to precede No. 1, of wliich it is 
ia the main a repetition, with occasional variations. It is written 
by Arthur Mawd in a much coarser band than the first, which is 
in Pereson's handwriting. Each of the young men affixed his 
own signature, both to the letter of April 3rd and that of the 2.5th. 

' Probably the son of " my frcnd Mr. Carmarden," in John Downynge's letter. 

150 The merry Crew at Barrow. 

[Tanner MS. 306, ful. 177.] 
Jhesus.^ At Barrowe^ the 25 of Aprett. 

Moste Trustye and welbe Louyd Frendes, with [Loue] 
Vnfayimyd we Commend vss vnto you, wyshynge [all] 

1 A very common wny of commencing a letter at the time. Thus the cele- 
brated letter of Mrs. Alieyn to her husband, preserved in Dulwich College, in 
which Mr. Collier so strangely found the allusion to Shakespere. " Jhesus. My 
intyre and welbeloved sweet haite, still it joyes me," etc. 

* Most probably Bergen-op-Zoom. Compare Kng. Barrow, A.S. beorh, same 
as the German hn-fi. Or perhaps, according to an iugenious suggestion, it may 
be Berchem, a small place formerly at a short distance from Antwerp, but now 
forming a suburb of the city. Barrow is mentioned by Boorde (See Mr. Furnivall's 
edition, p. 150), where the Brabander says: 

" I was borne in Braban, that is both gentil and free; 

All nacyons at all tymes be well-come to mee. 

I do vse martes, dyuers tymes in tlie yere ; 

And of all thynges, 1 do loue good Englysh here. 

In Anwarpe and in Barow 1 do make my martes ; 

There doth Eiiglysh marchauntes cut out tlieyr partes." 
Mr. Furnivall suggests Breda: with which opinion I am unable to agree, as 
I cannot see how that name can have been corrupted into Barrow. He 
quotes Hall's Chronicle: "In this yere (a.d. 1531) was an olde Tolle de- 
maunded in Flaunders of Englyshmen, called the Tolle of the Houndc, which 
is a Ilyuer and a passage: The Tolle is .xii. pence of a Fardell. This Tolle liad 
been often tymes demaunded, but neuer payed ; insomuche that Kyng Henry the 
seuenth, for the dcniaunde of thiit Tolle, prohibited all liis subiectes to kcpe any 
Marte at Antwerpe or Barow, but caused the Martes to be kepte at Calyes." 
— p. 786, ed. 1809. " If this warre [with the Emperor in 1527] was displeasaimt 
to many in Englande (as you have hard), surely it was as much or more dis- 
pleasant to the tonnes and people of Flaunders, Hrabant, IloUimde, and Zelande, 
and in especiall to the tounes Andwarpe and Barrow, wliere the Martes wer kept, 
and where the rcsorte by Englishmen was." — Ih. p. 746. Perhaps these young 
men were factors in the Low-Countries for some great London house or houses. 
Their mode of living and boldness of speech have a parallel in Master Hobson's 
Btory of his factor in France, "A merry conceited youth," "Pleasant Conceits of 
Old Hobson," p. 14 (Halliwell). Their morals were probably not improved by 
their sojourn among the Flemings, who were noted for their deep potations. 
Thus Sir 'I'homas Gresham complains in the Privy Council that his health is 
suffering from the heavy carousals he is obliged to partake of with the Flcniii^h 
merchants, " for all their cheer is in drink." Compare also Kash's " Pierce 
Penniless's Supplication to the Devil " (ed. by Payne Collier for the (Old) 
Shakspcre Society, 1842, p. 52) : " From gluttonie in meates, let me discend 
to snperfluitie in drink, a sinne that, euer since we have mixt our selues with 
the Low Countries, is counted honourable, but before we knew their liiigring 
warres, was held in the highest degree of hatred that might be. Then, if wee 
had scene a man goe wallowing in the strcetes, or line sleeping vnder the boord, 
■wee would have spet at him as a toade, and cald him foule, drunken swine, and 
warned all our friends out of his company : now, he is no body that cannot 
drinke super nagulum,' carouse the hunter's hoope, quaffe vpseg freze crosse, 

' " Drinkinsr super nagulum, a devise of drinking new come out of Fiaunce; which is, 
after a man hath lurnde up the hottom of the cup, to drop it on hys nayle, and make a pearl 
•with that is left ; which, if it flide, and he cannot mak stand on, by reason thers too much, 
he mutt drinke againe for his penance." 

The unansuered letter. 151 

hettthes, wythe good Sowckeccs in aft yower Dowengs. By 
this ower frennd and Ghyllde brewer hawnsyd^ a[nd] 
Sworen in to ower Conipane and preve Leged. not Long 
Sj'nes we though te good to Cawell to memorye the owllde 
and Accustooniabeft frenshippe vzid and frequentid Amonge 
vs towerdes you, not Longe Synes sent By hym to Adrese 
the Same, who ys on of the Ryghte Slampe, and vallewyd 
of vss. Convcniute in aft ph-ices for the Lyeke valleue whoes 
pr^-senes vnto you hath Longe Synes from you byn absente, 
yett I truste his p^rcon in no poynte for gotton, and hauynge 
pervzid ower owlkl and ansyente Regester we fiynd that of 
Longe Synes we haue vnto youv Crewe Adressyd A Lettar, 
w/cfch as yett we never haue IXi'ceh'e^ awnsuer ; wherrefore 
at this present hauynge not moche to trobell you W2th at 
this tyme we Dowe menne to pute you in memorye ther of, 
as tyme and phice shall Sarve, ettc. 

And fyrste we wilbe gyn with ower moste welbe Louyd, 

ower frend at afte Dayes, as we haue well [prouyd] ; 

his name to Beherse, as you shall vndcrs[tand], 

A proper manne of ptvcon, whoes name ys Jhone [Bland]. 4 

A man for his Acktes moste prompte and Be[dy] 

to brecke his faste at the Snype, where he bathe byn f[ull 

merrye] ; 
of aft men to a Beger he ys comparid Be[st], 
for when his Skryppe ys fule, he Layes hym Downe [to rest]. 8 

with leapes, glones, mumpes. frolickes, and a thousand such dominering inuentinns. 
He is reputed a pesauut and a boore that will not take his licour profoundly ; 
and you shall hears a caualier of the first feather, a princockes that was but 
a page the other day in the court, and now is all to be frcnchified in his souldiours 
sute, stand vpon termes with 'God's wounds! You dishonour me, sir, you doo 
nie the disgrace if you do not pledge me as much as I drunke to you;' and, 
in the midst of his cups, stand vaunting his manhood, beginning euerie sentence 
with 'When I first bore armes,' when he neuer bare anie thing but his lord's 
rapier after him in his life. If he haue been ouer and visited a towne of 
garrison, as a trauiiiler or passenger, he hath as great experience as the greatest 
commander and chiefe leader in England. A mightie deformer of men's manners 
and features is this vnnecessarie vice of all other. Let him bee indued with 
neuer so mania vertucs, and haue as much goodly proportion and fauour as 
Nature can bestow vpon a man, yet if hce be thirstie after his owne destruction, 
and hath no ioy nor comfort but when he is drowning his soule in a gallon pot, 
that one beastly imperfection wil vtterly obscure all that is commendable* in him, 
and all his goode qualities sinke like lead downe to the bottome of his carowsing 
cups, where they will lye, like lees and dregges. dead and vnregarded of any 
man." ' hanselled. 

152 The Pranks of the Londoners. 

and thus to tacke ait ower frendes in order, 

w^'th you Rychard Champyon we wilt prosede farther 

as on of the Crewe that oftentyraes makes merre 

with mane Dyllycatts Boughte in Bouclares Berre. 12 

wythe plentye of wynne fyllid at the Bores hedd, 

where with yow macke the good man go droncke to Bedd, 

and we feare nott But with the wyfe yow can Dowe youv 

plesure ; 
Evere man in his Corse, at his owen Layser. 16 

and thus with yow, ^ychard champyon, we will macke an end, 
prayenge god of his grace a mere metynge to vs Sende. 
ower welbe Louyd thomas Clyfe in nowyse moste be for gotten, 
yf that his p(?rcon were absent, the Crewe wolld Su[re be 
brocken], 20 

who wythe his Lcwte Dowthe macke the Crewe [merry], 
with [ ] Small yes, Syngynge, hcye Derrye D[errye] ; 
and then Lowcke you Cawlt Robarte to fytl [a pot of ale], 
whylle yow, thomas Clyfe, arre skowrynge his m"- taytl. 24 

and then, thomas Braynes Beynge trobled in that tyme, 
Dowthe Brynge you in Stedde off atte A potte of wynne : 
yf tyme wolld ^er myt we wolld wrytte you more at Large, 
and thus we praye god keepe you ought of wellses Barge. 28 

Jno. Graves, we herre Saye, ys on of yower Crewe, 

w/iich newes vnto vs Dyd Seme verre newe, 

and knowynge that he the good fellowe can [playe], 

ower mynd hys to haue hym in for on by the [waye]. 32 

In playenge on the Yergenalles he ys well skyllid, 

and on his ffj'ddell mane tymes well willid, 

allso on [the] gyttarne he playes verre well ; 

yett thomas Clyfe on the Leute dothe him [far exsell]. 36 

"When aft thes Instrumentes are Com to gether, 
no marveft though you haue therre in grette plesure ; 
the mellodye there of By Hezon sholld be So Swette, 
that Jn*' Blandes hows shall be in danger of dawnsynge down 
with your fette. 40 

The Aimccr. 153 

Yett on therre ys of yower Crewo w/«'ch to vs ys unknowen, 
the fame of his Dawnsynge to aiidwarp ys Blownne ; 
S3'de ys his name as we wiH you teH, 
amonge you aH for dawnsynge he berres the BeH. 44 

To aH the Reste whiche we haue nott namyd, 
we aske pardon of you, and not to be blamid ; 
for this ower workes to you aH we haue dedycatid, 
prayenge you at yower metynge yt maye be euactid. 48 

and when So Ever yt shaH chanes this owr worke be redd, 
that on of youv Crewe maye go droucke to bedd ; 
w^ich Requeste of you fullfyllid, we Reste yower Dettar, 
hop3'nge ower nexte Coraendacyones shaH plese you better. 52 

The tyme pasythe Awaye : we moste macke an end, 

prayenge to the L3'vynge god you aHe to amend ; 

and allwayes to Sennd vs of his grace, 

and in the hevenes terestyall A dwellynge place. 56 

yours, The master wardens 
of The Deventer Crew, 
arthur mawd, 
pawHe peresonn. 

anstncr of tfte Cantletoicfe Crcto. 

We now give the answer of the worthy members of the Candle- 
wick Crew, who are greatly indignant with the liberty which 
has been taken with them, and rebuke their juvenile assailants 
accordingly. There is something very quaint in these laboured 
efforts of the Aldermanic muse : apparently they considered it 
a matter of honour to retaliate in rhyme : poetical " flytings " 
of this description ornament the literature of both the fifteenth 
and sixteenth centuries. Cf. Dunbar with Kennedy, and Skeltou 
with Garnesche. The antiquary finds no little amusement in 
these highly-spiced fragments of ancient virulence. 

15-i A sharp rebuke. 

[Tanner MS. 306, fol. 179.] 

your letter large of lewde eflfecte we longe synns have re- 

wherin your mj'sclievous meanyng mynde in wry ting is 

p^rcey vyd ; 
your proper preface pend in prowesse, by way of commen- 
shewyth a smorye^ symple style, in ow('/' yraagynations. 4 
an] introduction] to a trade, off rvde & Ilechelesse rymyng, 
a craftye cloke to culler cr3'mes, w/'icli after corns in wrytyng. 
your fantzye forgeth fyrst to name, as orderlye we stand, 
owr fayth full, freke,^ & frendlye mate, and lovyng brother 

bland, 8 

whome we both love, & lyke also, and think hyra moche 

more better, 
then dothe your rvde and rowpente st3'le : compares him to 

a be":":er. 
a shamelesse sort, a synfuU syglite : eraonge ye trulye be, 
that so wyll wryte to his dyspigt : & he no wursse then] we. 
A modest mate & nierye man] : a fythfuU ffrende at nede, 13 
a hatelesse hart, a wyttye wyght : & trew in word & dede. 
from bland, our best belovyd frend, to champyon], then] ye 

com : 
althoughe good cho^'ce of chere we vse, yet ye mj^ght leave 

owte som]. 16 

but bucklers berj^e ye bryng in, & other suche lyke places, 
& thervnto ye Joyne such gere, that I p^rceyve ye grasles. 
I shame to shewe, & wyll not wryte, the rvdenes of your style, 
but ye reraaywe suche as ye were, and have byn^ of longe 

whyle, 20 

we would ye wete, & well dyd knowe, & kepe yt in your 

that champyon cheyfe emong vs ys, and one both trewe & 

kynde : 
an] honest hartye man] he ys, of lyffe most pure vnspottyd, 
whose fame & bruyte^ & doynges [yjett were never staynd ne 

blottyd ; 24 

1 ? Sorry. - Brave, firm. See instances quoted by Ilalliwell. 

3 Eumour or report, a word of Keltic origin. 

A diainelcss acct of Satan. 155 

but as in name he Champyon ys, the lyke, be sure, at nede, 
ye shall hynu fynde in force & myght : & fyrme in word & 

w/th Curtyous clyfFe ye followe next, lest he shulld be for- 
gotten] , 
and yf he were not weH in lyfe, ye saye owr crew were 

broken, 28 

as thoughe the fredoniJ of owr fixythe dependyd but one clyfe. 
no, wytles wryter, know thou wcH, our state ys not so breyfe : 
thoughe one or twooe or thre departe, the crewe ys not 

dyssohyd; 31 

therefore be sure, ye sawcye syr, your dowbt therein resolvyd. 
hys life doth lyke, & eke delyght, & please owr fantzyes well ; 
but to recite the Rest ye wryte, my eares doth glo to tell, 
die, shamelesse secte of sathans sewte ! how dare ye so to 

Avryte ? 35 

what cawsse doth clyffe compello ye thus of hym so to indyte ? 
alas ! good clyffe, o curtious mate ! ohe gentle harte & 

mynde ! 
was never none that yet colld saj^e, o ch'ff, thou art vnkynde ! 
our brother braynes ye also blame, who ys of good reporte. 
now welses barge, I swere, 5's mete to furnyshe suche a sorte. 
procedyng forth, ye bryng in graves : m«rveyll moche we do 
that he, in l^'ke as others are, ye do not slawnder so. 42 

3'e Saye ye mynde to make hym one emong vs to be placyd ; 
naye, make somJ meanes to place your selves : for whye ? ye 

ar dysgracyd. 44 

owr orders onlye dothe p^^mytt, no brother in our crewe 
By havyng made vs sore offense, shall lenger then ensewe 
emonge vs to be fre thenceforth, W3'th out owr whole consent, 
and that SomJ prowff ther maye be had that he doth sore 

repent. 48 

nowe whether that ye have all lost the fredom of owr crewe, 
your letter late ye sent vs both doth large ynowff condempn 

Lesyd ^ the sort of other sins whereof ye be suspectyd, 
as powll at barrowe by two wentches hath b^'n late infectyd, 
and mawd at andwarp hath the lyk : small ioye we have to 

wryt yt, 53 

^ i.e. setting aside. (C'f. out-taken, except.) The word is not couiraou m this 

156 We use mediocrity. 

& Randle eke ys not to seke :^ & hawes at brussells^ hath yt; 
this trulye we do touche apart : in brefe your great abvse, 
thoughe you at large in l3'eng sort, w^'th slawnders vs accvse. 
wherefore yt is awardyd here, W2thout ye do suhmyt ye, 57 
ye lese the tayle of that ye had, whereof we do dyscharg ye ; 
yet at the great request of &ome, of yoxxr part vndeservyd, 
ye maye with hvmblyng of your selves by gratis now re- 

ceyvyd. 60 

vpon soni hope of happyer lyfe then hereto-fore was uzyd, 
or ells be sui-e yt ys decreede ye shalbe cleane Refusyd. 
ohe bayrcs bolld, howe dare ye wryte so lewdlye vs vnto, 
and then] at ende to wryte so rvde, vnmete for you to do ? 64 
as thoughe we culld not Rede your byll wyth-out we went 

to drynke; 
and thoughe we had, yt yll becomes you so of vs to thynke, 
that we, as wyse & Sober wyghtes, Owre selves shuUd so 

to drj'nke so muche tyll we be dr^^ncke, as ye emonge ye vse ! 
also we cannot mcrye be when we be so dysposyd, 69 

but that our brother blande ys lyke to have hys howsse downe 

no, no, ye selye sorye shaddes ^ : we ar not of those sort, 
a medyo-cryte we vse in all owr acte & sport. 72 

well were yt wyth ye all, I saye, yf ye culld do the lyke ; 
but youth herto cannot attayne : theyre wytts be far to syeke. 
wherfore we wyll beseche the lorde to sende ye of hys grase, 
that ye maye sett your wytts & mynde a whyle to RunJ 

owr Pace ; 76 

That you by vs in Tyme be brought to s,ome confyrmytye, 
& by beholdynge of our steppes may lerne hvmanytye. 
And thus we ende, & here conclude : we send ye comendations. 
And hope to here that by thys byll ye wyll amend your 

fashyons ; 80 

so shall we all ryght JoyfuU be : & ye receyve to grase, 
& yeld agayne the thyng ye lost, omytting your trespace. 

By yours somtymes, when ye were cowntyd mete, 

the Crewe & brotherhede of candellwycke strete. 84 

* Perhaps a relation of Thomas Randall, merchant, to whom, on October 9th, 
1559, " was master Row Alderman(s) dowthur mared" (Machyn's Diary, p. 215). 

^ Perhaps sou to Master Hawes, clothworker, who was made sheriff on August 
1st, 1558, with Richard Champion (Machyn, p. 1/0). ^ Mean fellows. 



Of the following poems the earliest (I. pp. 164, 165) is that 
entitled "A libel touching Campion," in three parts, of four, 
three, and two verses respectively, in different measures. This, 
of course, was not so called by the author, but by the transcriber 
who sent a copy of it for the information of the Council, and 
thereby caused its preservation among the State Papers. It 
refers to Campion's disputations and rackings in the Tower, but 
not to his death ; its date is therefore in September or October, 
1581. I cannot hazard a suess as to the author. 

The next batch (II. pp. 166-179) is the collection of "certayne 
verses made by suudrie persons," annexed to an 8vo. book, the 
title of which will be found prefixed to the poems. They are 
four in number; two on Campion's death; one, a dialogue be- 
tween a Catholic and Consolation, and the fourth, the complaint 
of a Catholic. They ai'e all, especially the two first, very good 
and smooth for their day, and were well received. They were 
the pi'oductions of persons of some mark — " haud ignobilium 
poetarunr acute commenta," says Bombinus, in his life of 
Campion. In stanza sixteen of the first poem we read : 

" Tou bloody jury, Lea and the eleven, 
Take heed your verdict, which was given in haste, 
Do not exclude you from the joys of heaven." 

Among the Puckering papers in the British Museum is a letter 
from this Lee to the Lord Keeper, dated in 1595. He was then 
for the second time "a prisoner restrained from bodily travel," 
and complained of the conduct of the Catholics to him. " I 
have been persecuted by them for my verdict, given in haste, as 
Vallenger rhymed, against Campion and his traiterous com- 
panions." Tliis seems to ascertain the authorship of the first 
poem ; and it is confirmed by the notice in Bridgewatcr's Con- 
certatio (fol. 225 and 108), which informs us how Vallenger had 
his ears nailed to the pillory and cut off, for verses he wrote on 
Campion's death.^ Vallenger was a known ballad-writer of the 

' The records of Vallenger's trial in the Stiir Chamber are lost (the sentences 
in criminal cases were all burnt at Clerkcnwell in the Gordon riots in the last 
century), otherwise we should find there one of the poems attributed to Walpole, 
if More {Hist. Prov. Aug. lib. v. Mo. 33) is correct in saying; th:it the law was 
first put in action against him, before he was known to be a L'utholic, for a poem 
he had written on Campion's happy death, 

158 Ciuupion Focws. — VaUenfjcr. — Anthouij Munclaij. 

day, and the smoothness of these verses is surprising, after 
Gabriel Harvey's information that Spenser ironically called him 
Noble Master Vallenger, on account of his supreme carelessness 
of English quantity and accent. (Three proper and familiar 
letters between Harvey and Spenser, 1581.) 

With regard to the authorship of the other three poems, one 
was written by Henry Walpole, the young heir of the great 
family in Norfolk, who was converted to Catholicism on the 
occasion of Campion's execution, became a Jesuit, and returned 
to England to be captured and hanged in 1595.' Thomas Pounde 
is, I think, the author of the short sketch of ]\Iuuday, which 
will be quoted below, and as he also was a versifier, may have 
written one of the poems to boot.* Possible writers of the others 
are Francis Trcgean, Kobert Parsons, and even Philip Earl of 
Arundel ; but this is a mere guess, founded on the fact that they 
did all write religious verses. These poems were published in 
1581 — that is some time between Dec. 1, 1581, and March 25, 

The next batch of poems (III. pp. 180-190) consists of four 
paraphrases or glosses upon the four previous ones ; these 
are by Anthony Munday. This kind of serious travestie was 
common in Queen Elizabeth's age ; Father SouthweH's Sinners 
CompJaint, founded on Dyer's Fancy, is well known, as is 
also Fulke Greville's version of the same poem. Munday 
had cause for being angry with the publication which he 
glozed upon. Apart from his having been the chief witness 
against Campion and his companions, and a spectator of their 
execution, he had published an account of the matter, the 
substance of which may be found in Holinshed's Chronicles. 
It is in Hallam's judgment characterized by " a savageness and 
bigotry which I am sure no scribe of the Inquisition could have 
surpassed," He had also been attacked by Pounde in a short 

1 John Gerard, in his autobiography (Morris's Translation, p. xci), says of 
Walpole, " He used to be at Court before the death of Father Campion, in whose 
honour he also wrote some beautiful verses in the English tongue, declaring that 
he and nniny others had received the warmth of life from that blessed martyr's 
blood, and had been animated by it to follow the more perfect counsels of Christ." 
This description does not apply to any of the following poems with any accuracy. 
Possibly the first may be his, and only attributed to \ allenger by Lee in ignorance. 

2 ro'unde was probably the author of a long poem, in two parts, in the Record 
Office, Dora. Eliz. 1582, No. 58. The first part is a criticism on Fox's Martyr- 
ology ; the second, a very carefully-executed summary of the troubles of Catholics 
under the penal laws. A hmg extract was printed in the Rambler for Sept. 1859, 
p. 373. The whole poem deserves printing. 

Campion Poems. — Anthony Manila y. 159 

biographical sketch prefixed to the four poems. " Kog-ging 
Miuulay," he says, ''first was a stage player (no doubt a calling 
of some credit), after an aprentise, which tyme he wcl serued 
with deceauing of his niastei- ; then wandring towardes Ital}'-, by 
his owne report became a coosener in his ionrney. Comming to 
Eome, in his short abode there, was charitably relieued, but neuer 
admitted in the seminary, as he pleseth to lye in the title of his 
booke ; and being wery of well-doing, returned home to his first 
vomite againe. I omite to declai-e howe this scholler new come 
out of Italy did play extempore ; those gentlemen and others 
whicho were present can best giue witnes of his dexterity, who 
being wery of his folly, hissed him from his stage. Then, being 
therby discouraged, he set forth a balct against playes ; but yet 
(0 constant j^outh) he now beginnes againe to ruffle vpon the 
stage. I omit among other places his behauiour in Barbican, 
with his good mistres and mother, from whence our superin- 
tendent' might fetch him to his court, were it not for louo (I 
wonlde save slaunder) to their gospel." 

The steps which Munday took to refute some of these imputa- 
tions may be seen in the biographical sketch prefixed to his John 
a' Kent and John o' Cumber, published by the (old) Shakespeare 
Society. To the notices of him there, I may add, that he con- 
tinued for some years in the profitable calling of informing 
against Catholics; he attached himself to Topcliffe, the priest- 
catcher, hy whom he was employed to guard and to take bonds 
of recusants, and who wrote about him to Puckering (Sept. 20, 
lo92, Harleian MS. 699S, p. 31) as "a man that wants no wytt." 
How he used his wit in his vocation is told us by PIIS 
(Phellippes ?), one of Walsingham's agents, in a letter to the 
Secretary of State (Record Office, Domestic Papers, 1590, No. 
138 a). " He hath been in divers places where I have passed ; 
whose dealing hath been very rigorous, and yet done very small 
good, but rather much hurt ; for in one place, under pretence to 
seek for Agnus Deis and hallowed grains, he carried from a 
widow £1:0, the which he took out of a chest. A few of these 
matches will either raise a rebellion or cause your officers to bo 
murdered." He lived to a great age, was pageant poet to the 
City, and appears also to have had some office in the law courts. 
I find Anthony Munday, gent., employed in the transmission of 
the docmnents relating to the foundation of Falmouth to the 
Corporation of Penrhyn in the reign of James I. (Gilbert, 
Historical Survey of Cornwall, 4to., 1820, vol. ii. p. 793.) 
Munday's paraphrases are dated 1581. 

' i.e. the Bisliop of London. 

160 Campion Poems, — JoJtn Lllliat. 

Vallenger's poem, "Why do I use my paper, ink, and pen?" 
(p. 106) and the next, "What iron heart that would not melt 
in grief?" (p. 173) are found in MS. with variations, the chief of 
which are given in the notes, at the end of a copy of the 1581 
edition of Watson's ' EKarofiTraOia, which was formerly in the 
possession of Hearne the Antiquary, and came into the Bodleian 
with the Eawlinson MSS. The transcriber has headed the former 
poem a goot) bcrsc, upon a batJt) matter, and after the 180th line, 
and the word "finis," has added the following gloss : 

§3^ What is it y* those flattered of the Popes will shame to 
speake, to winne and continue their favour ? 

To the latter poem he has prefixed the title 3n otI)cr, of tijc same 
crrour, and after the 54th line, and word Finis, has added the gloss : 

Is he you thus coramcnd cald Campion ? 

Is this your Sainct, whose prayers you so singe ? 

Then Campion, the Popes thiefe Champion, 

At Tiburne trust ^ : To heauven sent in a stringe. 
For whose sweet soule I ringe this lowde alarum : 
His mendacia sunt ojjcs et aurum. q'^ IcoX. CO 

The signs at the end, q** Iw.X, mean "quoth John Lilliat." John 
Lily, the author of Euphues, has a commendatory piece prefixed 
to Watson's book, "John Lily to the Author his friend," which 
is signed " Farewell, John Lilliat." The poems and songs of 
this MS. may appear in a future publication, but the coj)y we 
have of them shows that John Lilliat cannot have been the same 
man as the famous author of Euphues. 

The fourth specimen of these Campion ballads (IV. page 101) 
consists of an original stanza, followed by a few stanzas in- 
accurately quoted from Vallenger's poem. Tliey seem to have 
been put together by a person who signs himself in cypher or 
anagram, as a ballad hortatory to persuade some one to suffer 
death for his religion, after the example of Campion. The in- 
dorsement seems to show that the person addressed was George 
Jarves, Priest, hanged at London, April 11, 1608. 

Among the many publications respecting Campion, either extant 
or noticed in the Stationers' Registers (see Collier's Extracts, 

' trust = trussed. 

Life of Edmund Campion. IGl 

pp. 136, 149, 1G2, 17G), the following is the only title which seems 
to refer to a ballad : 

" Mr. Campion, the seditious Jesuit, is welcome to London." 
Licensed to Richard Jones, July 24, 1581. 

Other ballads against the Pope were licensed July 19 and 20, 
but no mention of Campion is made in their titles. 

Edmund Campion, son of a citizen and bookseller of London, 
was born there Jan. 25, 1510, educated at Christ's Hospital in 
Newgate Street, selected to recite a congratulatory harangue to 
Queen ]\Iary when she passed St. Paul's on her solemn entry into 
London Aug. 3, 1553, sent to Oxford by the Grocers' Company, 
selected by Sir Thomas White in 1557 to be Fellow of his new 
foundation of St. John's College. He made the English oration 
at the funeral of Amy Robsart in 1560 ; in Feb. 1564, was Orator 
in the schools, and in the same year preached the funeral sermon 
for Sir Thomas White, and took his M.A. degree. Displayed his 
eloquence before Queen Elizabeth and Lord Robert Dudley on 
their visit to Oxford 1566, after which Dudley, then created 
Earl of Leicester, sent for him, and became his good patron, giving 
him a private opportunity of exhibiting his talents before the 
Queen at Woodstock, Campion at this time was the most hope- 
ful scholar at Oxford. In 1568 he was Proctor. He had been 
for some little time reading divinity, which led him to doubt 
about the Anglican Church ; but he fell into the hands of Cheney, 
the anti-Calvinistic Bishop of Gloucester, who calmed his scruples, 
and ordained him deacon. But his scruples revived, and he left 
Oxford in August, 1570. He went to Ireland, where he became 
an adviser of Sir Henry Sidney for his scheme of a Dublin 
University, a friend of Sir James Stanihurst, Speaker of the 
Irish House of Commons, whose son Richard had been his pujDil 
at Oxford ; and of Sir Christopher and Lady Barnwell, of Turvey. 
Here he definitively left the Protestant communion, and wi-ote 
his •' History of Ireland," which Richard Stanihurst afterwards 
made into the groundwork of the Irish part of Holinshed's 
Chronicles. His nonconformity was observed in Ireland, pur- 
suivants were sent after him, and he had to escape to England. 
Returning to London, he was present at the tragedy of Dr. 
Storey in June, 1571, and then fled across the Channel to Douai, 
where, in the English College, ho received minor orders. After 
spending a year there, he went to Rome, and for some time was 
dependent on Cardinal Gesualdi ; but in June, 1573, he joined 

162 Life of Edmund Campion. 

tlie Society of Jesus, and was sent to inuler^o Lis noviciate first 
in Prague, then at Briinn, in Moravia. Then he returned as 
a professor to the College at Prague, and became famous, not 
only for his orations, but for his Latin tragedies, which were 
played with the highest applause before the Emperor Maximilian 
and other distinguished spectators. Here also he renewed an 
old acquaintance with Sir Philip Sidney, who visited Prague in 
1576. In 1579, at the urgent request of Dr. Allen, the founder 
of the English College at Douai, the Jesuits determined to send 
some of their number to England, and fixed upon Parsons and 
Campion as the pioneers of the mission. Campion first returned 
to Kome, and an account is extant of his journey homewards, 
and of a controversy ho had with Beza in his passage through 
Geneva. Campion landed at Dover June 21, 1580. He pro- 
ceeded to London, and immediately began to preach. The 
enthusiasm of the young converts was excited, and the Council 
soon found that something more than ordinary was occurring. 
The young Catholic gentlemen were swept up and confined in 
sundry prisons, or committed for safe custody to different clergy- 
men, aldermen, or other responsible persons. Campion, seeing 
that he might any day be shut up in forced silence in prison, 
had written a declaration of his motives and objects in coming 
to London, This he committed to the custody of Thomas 
Poimdo, an enthusiastic young Catholic of Hampshire, and a 
relation of the Earl of Southampton, who had played the part 
of Mercury in a masque at Kenilworth, during the famous 
revels there in 1575, and who still dabbled in poetry and other 
literature. Pounde was so excited by this able document, that, 
in spite of his pledges, he distributed copies in MSS. from his 
prison. Some of the first of these were sent to his own neigh- 
bourhood, and the earliest copies which reached the Council were 
captured in Hampshire. The document had however become too 
public to be suppressed, and the press teemed with replies to 
Campion's "great brag and challenge" — for in the paper he had 
challenged to single combat all the divines of England on public 
controversial hustings. The effect was only a redoubled vigilance 
on the part of those who had to stop all controversy on the 
Catholic side, and Campion liad to transfer his presence from 
London to the Provinces. In Yorkshire and Lancashire he spent 
his time in preaching, and in composing a little book, his "Decern 
Eationes," ten reasons which seemed to him so incontrovertible, 
that on the strength of them he had dared with confidence to 
make the challenge. The little book was secretly printed at a 
flying press set up for the occasion in Stonor Park, near Henley, 
and distributed by hundreds at the commencement in Oxford, 

Life of Edmund Campion. 1G3 

June 27, 1581. Among the refined critics of the day this book 
made a great sensation. It was cried up as the quintessence of 
Latin scliolarship ; and the divines of Oxford and Cambridge 
had to rebuke solemnly the frivolity of the young men who were 
ready to sacrifice their religion to beauty of jihrase ; just as in 
1589 they had to lament over their enjoyment of the libellous 
jokes of Martin Marprelate. 

A fortnight after this triumph, Campion was taken at the honse 
of Mr. Yate, of Lydford, Berks, by means of one George Eliot, 
who had lived as a Catholic in the service of Sir William Petre, 
and who for his exploit was rewarded by the Catholics with the 
name of Judas Eliot, and by the Queen with the red coat of 
a 3'eoman of the guard. Campion, with two other priests found 
with him, was taken to London, and made to ride through the 
City to the Tower, his elbows tied behind him, his hands in front, 
and his heels under his horse's belly, with a paper in his hand, 
like a perjurer, inscribed Campion the skditious Jesuit. This 
was on Saturday, July 22, 1581. A week after, the Council 
ordered Norton and others to examine him, and if necessary to 
deal with him by the rack. The chief point to be discovered 
was the names of the gentlemen at whose houses he had been 
entertained. By the beginning of August information had been 
obtained, the Council said from him, but more probably from 
some of the others captured with him, of a great many of the 
houses where he had stayed. The proprietors of all were 
imprisoned, and many of them subsequently very heavily fined 
by the Star Chamber. After he had been twice racked, he was 
allowed to have some discussion in the Tower — not in public, but 
before a select audience. Of course each side claimed the victory 
for its own champion; and the printed account of the con- 
troversy issued by Deans Nowel and Day differs very much 
from the MS. accounts circulated by Campion's friends. Campion, 
however, made one illustrious convert, Philip Earl of Arundel. 
After three of these conferences, the Council determined to treat 
the matter in another way, and to make an example of the priests 
iu prison. 

At this time the Duke of Anjou was in England as Elizabeth's ac- 
ce})ted suitor. The 2:)rospect of her marriage to a Catholic husband 
filled half England with dismay. The politicians thought it would 
bo a good stroke to hang a batch of priests upon the occasion, 
for this would prove that the marriage, if it was to come olf, 
would make no difference in the religious policy, or possibly, if 
Anjou Avas a man of spirit, might drive him oS" in disgust. 
Hence, after several futile attempts to get up a case, it was 
determined to arraign eleven priests and two laymen for a con- 

164 Campion Poems. I. — ITis Disputations. 

spiracy against the Queen's life, entered into at Eome and Eheims. 
The proof of the plot depended on the testimony of Sled, Munday, 
and Caddy, three young men who had pretended to be Catholics, 
or perhaps were so, and had thus gained admission to the foreign 
Colleges. But their testimony amounted to very little. "The 
prosecution," says Hallam, "was as unfairly conducted, and 
supported by as slender evidence, as any, perhaps, that can be 
found in our books." The trial took place on the 20th of 
November, 1581. Chief Justice Wray presided. One Lee was 
foreman of the jury. The prisoners were all found guilty. On 
the 1st of December Campion, Sherwin, and Briant were dragged 
on hurdles from the Tower to Tyburn, and there hanged, drawn, 
and quartered. In the following poems reference will be found 
to the circumstances of the day — how it began in clouds and 
rain, and cleared up just as Campion was hanged ; and how there 
was a most remarkable flood tide on the Thames. 

For the life and times of Campion, see Edmund Campion, a Biography, by 
Richard Simpson. AVilliams and Norgate, 1867. The above particulars are 
extracted from this book. 


[From Domestic State Papers, Elizabeth, Vol. 150, No. 72 (Public Record Office).] 

a LitJcU toucWng Campion* 

Campian is a Champion, 

him once to oufrcu;;aue, 

The rest be well drest, 

the sooner to mu^^me. 4 

he lokes for his liffe, 

they saye to dispute ; 

and doubtcs not oar doctrine, 

he bragges to confute. 8 

yf in stecdc of good argument 

we deale by y^ racke ; 

the papist^*; maye Ihinke 

that Icar^nnffc wc lacke. 12 

Cduipion Poems. I. — His DispHtations. 105 

come forthe, my fine darllngcs, 

and make him a dolt ; 

you haue him full fast, 

& y* in stronge holte. 16 

A Jesuite, a Jebusite, wherefore I you praye, 

because he dothe teache you y*^ onely right waye ; 

he proferethe y® same by lear;ange to proue, 

and shall we from leanange to racke him remoue. 20 

his reasones were redie, his growndes were most sure, 

the enemye cannot his force longe endure : 

Campyon in campinge in spyrituall feild ; 

in godes cause his liife is reddy to yeld. 24 

Our preacherc's haue preached in pastime & pleasure, 
and nowe they be hated farre passi/«ge all measure ; 
There wiues and there wealthe haue made them so mute, 
They can not nor dare not Vfith Campyan dispute. 28 

let reason rule & racki;2ge sease, 

or els for euer hold your peace ; 

you can not w/^/^stand godes powre & his grace, 

no, not w/t/i y® tower nor y® rackinge place. 32 

A golden verse, vfhich truly saithe, 

let reson goe, hold fast thy faithe : 

A mayde to be a mother & god a man, 

let reason go, man, and beleue thowe y° mother, 

set faithe aboue & lett reason goe vnder. 37 

166 C(in/j)ion Foc/iis. II. — Ilia Death. 


[From " A true reporte of the death and martyrdome of M. Campion, Jesuito 
and preiste, and M. Shcrwin and M. Brj-an, preistes, at Tiborne the first of 
December 1581. Obscrvid and written by a Catholike preist, which was present 
therat. Wherunto is anncxid certayne verses made by sundrie persons." (Britisli 
Museum.) In the black letter oiio;inal, the proper names in the poems are 
printed in Eoman t)i)e : this has not been made italic here.] 

Fpon tbc ticatf) of ^. CtJmunti Campion, one of 
tfic ^ocictic of tl)c fjolj) name of %tm%. 


"Why do I Yse my paper, inke, and penne ? 

and call ray wits to counsel what to say ? 

such memories were made for raortall men, 

I speak of Saints whose names can not decay : 

an Anf^els trumpo were fitter for to sound 

tlieir glorious death, if such in earth wer found. 6 


Pardon my want, I offer nought but will ; 

their register remaineth safe aboue. 

Campion exceedes the compassc of my skill, 

yet let me Yse the measure of my loue, 

and giue me leaue, in lowe and homeli verse, 

his hye attempts in England to rehearse. 12 

He came by vow : the cause to conquer sinne ; 

his armour prayer, the word his targe & shield ; 

his co;;^fort heauen, his spoyle our soules to win, 

Ihe diuel his foe, the wicked world the field : 

his triumph ioy, his wage eternall blis, 

his Captaine Christ, which euer blessed is. 18 

Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 3. earthly for mortall. 11. humble 
/.;• homeli. 16. His badge the Crosse /o/- the diuel his foe. 17. The 
Diucll his foe /or his triumph ioy. 

Campion Poems. II. — His Dealli. 1G7 

From ease to paino, from honour to disgrace, 
from loue to hate, to daunger being wel ; 
from safe abode, to feares in euery place, 
contemning death, to saue our soulcs from hel: 
our new Apostle, comming to restore 
the faith which Austine planted hero before. 24 

His natures flowres were mixt with herbcs of grace ; 
his mild behauiour tempered wel with skil ; 
a lowly minde possest a learned place ; 
a sugred speach, a rare and vertuous wil ; 
a saintlike man was set on earth below, 
the seede of truth in erring hartes to sow. 30 


"With tung & pen the truth he taught & wrote, 

by force wherof they came to Chiist apace; 

but when it pleased God, it was his lote 

he should be thrald, he lent him so much grace, 

his patience then did worke as much or more, 

as had his heauenly speeches done before. 3G 

His fare was hard, yet mild & sweet his cheere ; 
his prison close, yet free and lose his minde ; 
his torture great, yet smal or none his feare ; 
his offers large, but nothing could him blinde. 
constant man, mind, O vertue strange, 
whom want, nor wo, nor feare, nor hope couldc change! 42 

YYom rack in Tower they broght him to dispute, 

bookeles,* alone, to answere al that came : 

yet Christ gaue grace, he did them all confute 

so sweetly there, in glory of his name, 

that euen the aduers part are forst to say, 

that Campions cause did beare the bell away. 48 

Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 26. by /or with. 30. lowe /or sow. 
42. "When for whom. 

* In his disputations in the Tower, Campion was allowed only to have his 
Bible ; not even a copy of his Decern liationcs. 

168 Campion Poems. II. — His Deaf//. 


This foyle enragde the minds of some so farre, 

they thought it best to take his life away, 

because they saw he would their matter marre, 

and leaue them shortlj'' nought at al to say : 

tray tor he was, with many a seely slight, 

yet pact a Jury that cried guylti straight. 54 

Heligion, there was treason to the queene ; 
preaching of penance, warre against the lande ; 
prests were such dangerous me« as haue not bin ; 
praj'ers & beads were fight and force of hande ; 
cases of conscience, bane vnto the state ; 
so blind is error, so false a witnes hate ! 60 


And yet behold, these lambes be drawen to dye ; 

treason proclayracd, the queene is put in feare ; 

out vpon satan ! fye ! malice, fye ! 

speakst thou to them that did the guildles heare ? 

can humble soulos, departing now to Christ, 

protest vntrue ? Avaunt, foule fend, thou lyst ! (;g 


My soueraigne Liege, behold your subiects end — 

your secret foes do misenforme your grace : — 

who in your cause their holy lines would spend 

as tray tors dye, a rare and monstrous case ! 

the bloudy wolfe conderanes the harmcles shepc 

before the dog, y° whiles the shepherds* slope. 72 


England, looke vp, thy soyle is staind with blood, 

thow hast made martirs many of thine owne ; 

if thou hast grace, their deaths will do thee good, 

the seede wil take, which in such blood is sowne ; 

and Campions lerning, fertile so before, 

thus watered too, must nodes of force be more. 78 

Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 49. but this for This foylc. 54. They 
part/o;- j'et pact. 57. byn scene /'w bin. 59. were bane /o;- bane. 61. 
are for he, 65. vnto /cr now to. 70, straungo/w rare. 

* Oriff. sherherds. 

Cdiapioii Poc'iiis, II. — Ilifi Beaili. l'J9 


Ptepent thee, Eliot* of thy Judas klssc, 

I wish thy penance, not thy desperate ende ; 

let Norton f thinke, which now in prison is, 

to whom was said, he was not Cassars friend ; 

and let the Judge consider well in feare, 

that Pilate washt his hands, and was not cleare. 84 


The witnesse false, Slcdd,% Mnndny, and the rest, 

which had your slanders noted in your booke, 

confesse your fault beforehand ; it were best, 

lest God do find it written when he doth looke 

in dread full doome vpon the soules of men : 

it wil be late (alas I) to mend it then. 90 


You bloody iury Lca,\\ and all the leauen, 

take heede your verdit, which was giuen in hast, 

do not exclude you from the ioj^es of heaucn, 

and cause you rue it when the time is past : 

and euery one whose malice causd him say 

Crucifige, let him dread the terror of that day ! 93 

Variations in the Oxford MS. : Lino 86. with all for which had. 88. omit 
doth. 91. rest /o;- Icaucn. 92. oinit which was. 93. place of blest /or 
ioyes of heauen. 

* George Eliot, the man who found and betrayed Campion by pretending to 
be a good Catholic. 

t Norton, a commissioner for putting Campion to the torture. For an account 
of him see Wood, Athence Oxoineitses ; also some notices in Collier's Boddei/s 
Old riaijs, i. p. 110. There is much about him in Bridgewatcr's Concertatio, fol. 
64, 73, 77, 127-129, 223, 229. His imprisonment here referred to was not for 
treason, as Allen suggests {Concertatio, fol. 221 verso), but for taking part in the 
contraband printing of a Puritan book. 

X Slcdd had entered the Seminary as a Catholic, but, as he professed, 
with the intention of betraying his associates there. Concertatio, fol. 62, 95, 121. 
(For Munday, see the Introduction, pp. 158, 159.) 

II Lee was the foreman of the jury. 

170 CanijMOJi Poems. II. — His Death. 


Fonde Eklerfon* call in thy foolish rime, 

thy scurile balates are to bad to sell ; 

let good men rest, and raende thy self in time, 

confesse in prose thou hast not raeetred well ; 

or, if thy folly can not choose but fayne, 

write alehouse toys, blaspheme not in thy vain. 102 


Remember, you tliat would oppresse the cause, 

the Church is Christes, his honor can not d3'e, 

though hel her selfe I'euest f her gresly iawes, 

and io^'ne in league with schisme and heresie ; 

though craft deuise, and cruell rage oppresse, 

3'et skil wil write, and martirdome confesse. lOS 


You thought perhaps, whew lerned Ca;;/pion dyes, 

his pen must cease, his sugrcd tongue be still ; 

but you forgot how lowde his death it crj^es, 

liow farro beyond the sound of tongue and quil ; 

you did not know how rare and great a good 

it was to write his precious giftes in blood. 114 


Lining, he spake to them that present were, 

liis writings tooke their censure of the viewe ; 

now fame reports his lerning farre and nere, 

and now his death confirmes his doctrine true. 

his vertues now are written in the skyes, 

and often read with holy inward eyes. 120 

Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 105. revert her greedie/y;- revest her 
gresly. 114. death /or giftes. 115. lightninge/w lining. 

* Elderton, one of the most indnstrious of the hallad-writers of the da)'. He 
is often referred to by Nash, Dcloncy, and others. Many of his productions have 
survived, and some have been reprinted by Mr. Collier. 

t "rcnest" should probably be revert. 

Cduijuon Poems. II. — Ilia Dcalli. 171 


All Europe wonders at so rare a man ; 

England is fild with rumor of his cnde ; 

London must needs, for it was present than, 

when constantly three saints their liucs did spend, 

the streets, the stones, the steps you hald the^;i b}'', 

proclaime the cause for which these martirs dy. 126 

The Tower saith, the truth he did defend ; 
the barre beares witnes of his guiltles minde ; 
Tiborne doth tell he made a pacient ende ; 
on euery gate* his martirdome we finde. 
in vaine you wroght y* would obscure his name, 
for lieauen and earth will still record the same. 132 

Your sentence wrong pronounced of him here, 
exemptes him from the iudgments for to come ; 
O happy he that is not iudged there ! 
God graunt me too to liaue an earthly dome ! 
your witnes false, and lewdly taken in, 
doth cause he is not now accusd of sin. 138 

His prison now the citie of the king ; 
his racke and torture, ioyes and heuenly blisse ; 
for mens reproch, with angels he doth sing 
a sacred song, which euerlastiug is : 
for shame but short, and losse of small renowne, 
he purchast hath an euer during crowne. 144 

His quarterd llms shall ioyne with ioy agaj'ne, 
and rise a body brighter then the sunne : 
your blinded malice torturde him in vayne. 
For euery wrincli some glory hath him wonne, 
and euer}'- drop of blood which he did spend, 
hath reapt a ioy which neuer shal haue end. 150 

Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 129. godly /or pacient. 141. reports 
/w reproch. 144. serapiternall /o>- eiicr during. 148. Avring /or wrinch. 

* The quarters of persons executed for treason ■were usually nailed up on the 
town gates, where their heads were also placed. 

172 Ccunjyion Poems. II. — His Death. 


Can dreary death tlie?i daunt our faith or paine ? 

ist' linsrrino' life we feare to loose, or ease ? 

no, no, such death procureth life againe, 

'tis only Grod we tremble to displease, 

who kils but once, and euer stil we dye, 

whose hote reuenge tormentes eternallye. 156 

We can not feare a mortal torment, wee ; 
this Martirs blood hath raoystned all our harts, 
wliose partid quartirs when we chaunce to see, 
we lerne to pla}^ the constant christians parts ; 
his head doth speake, & heauenly precepts giuc, 
how we y* looke, should frame ourselues to Hue. 102 


nis youth enstructs vs how to spend our daies ; 

his flying bids vs how to banish sinne ; 

his straight profession shews the narrow waies 

which they must walk tliat looke to enter in ; 

his home returno by danger and distresse, 

emboldens vs our conscience to professe. 168 

His hardle drawes vs with him to the crosse ; 
his speeches there prouoke vs for to dye ; 
his death doth say this life is but a losse ; 
his martird blood from heauen to vs doth crye ; 
his first and last and all conspire in this, 
to shew the way that leadeth vnto blisse. 174 


Blessed be God, which lent him so much grace, 

thanked be Christ, which blest his martir so ; 

happy is he which sees his masters face, 

Cursed are they that thought to worke him wo ; 

bounden be we to geue eternall prayse 

to Jesus name which such a man did rayse. 180 


Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 164. so for how. 166. to for that. 
178. which /oj- that. 

Ccnitpion Pot'/Ns. II. — His Beatli. ll'i 

an otfjcr, upon t&c same. 

What yron hart that wold not melt in greefe ? 

wliat Steele or stone could kepe him dry fro/;i teares ? 

to see a Cainpion haled like a theefe, 

to end his life, ^yith both his glorious feares,* 

in whose three deathes vnto the standers by, 

euen al the world almost might seeme to dye. 6 


England must lose a soueraigne salue for sinne, 

a sweet receit for suttle heresie : 

India a saint her seely soules to winne, 

Turky a bane for her idolatrie ; 

the Church a souldier against Babylon, 

to batter hell and her confusion. 12 


The skowling skies did storme & puff apace, 

they could not bear y^ wrongs y^ malice wroght ; 

the sunne drew in his shining purple face, 

the moistned clouds shed brinish tears for thoght ; 

the riuer Thames awhile astonied stoode 

To count the drops of Campions sacred blood. 18 


Nature with tears bewaild her heauy losse ; 

honesty feard her selfe should shortly dye ; 

religion saw her Champion on the crosse ; 

Angels and saints desired leaue to cry ; 

euen herisie, the eldest child of hell, 

began to blush, and thought she did not well. 24 

And yet, behold ! when Campion made his end, 
his humble hart was so bedewde with grace, 
that no reproch could once his mind offend ; 
mildnes possest his sweet and cherefull face ; 
a pacient spectacle was presented then, 
in sight of God, of angels, saints, and men. 30 

Variations in the Oxford MS. : Line 4. peers for feares. 6. did for miglit. 
11. Champion /o>- souldier. 

• " feares " = feres, or comrades, viz. Sherwin and Bryant. 

III. o 

174 Campion Poems. II. — His Death. 


The heuens did cleare, y® sun like gold did shine, 

the cloudes were dry, the fearful riuer ranne : 

nature and vertue wypt their watred eyen, 

religion ioyed to see so mild a man ; 

men, angels, saints, and al that saw him dye, 

forgot their grief, his ioyes appeard so nye. 36 


They saw his paeience did expect a crowne ; 

his scornful cart, a glorious heaucnly place ; 

his lowly mind, a happy high renownc ; 

his humble cheare, a shining angels face ; 

his feare, his griefe, his death, & agonie, 

a ioy, a peace, a life in maiestie. 42 

From thence he praycs and sings in melodic 

for our recure, and calleth vs to him ; 

he stands before the throne with harmonic, 

and is a glorious suter for our sinne : 

with w'ings of loue he jumped vp so hye, 

to helpe the cause for which he sought to dye. 48 


Reioj'ce, be glad, triumph, sing hinimes of ioye. 

Campion, Sliencinc, Brian live in blis : 

they sue, they seeke the ease of our annoy ; 

they pray, they speake, and al effectuall is ; 

not like to men on earth as heretofore. 

But like to saints in lieauen, and that is more. 54 


Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 33. mixt/o>- wypt. 36. his /or their. 
37. picture /or paeience. 40. smylinge/o;- shining. 

Campion Poems. II.— yl Dialogue on Campion. 175 

a Dialogue bcttucne a Catfiolike ann Consolation. 

Catholike first speaketh. 

Is righteous Lot from sinful Sodome gone ? 

is olde Elias left alone agayne ? 

and hath the earth no iust man, no not one, 

the cause of Christ and Christians to sustaine ? 

if holy life with true religion fayle, 

then farewell faith, for falsehood will preuayle. G 


No, Lot, thou hast some felowes in this land, 

Eljas, there are left seuen thousand yet ; 

reioyce, thou earth, thou hast a warlike bande 

for our good Lord in martial order set, 

by life and death this quarel to beginne, 

to vanquish falsehood, satan, hell, and sinne. 12 

Although a worthy Champion of your trayne 

were slayne of late, and yet not vanquished, 

into his place another stept againe ; 

who;;^ Christs spouse our cowmion nurse hath bred ; 

lament not then, for there are in his rome 

as good as he, expecting martirdome. 18 


Such men, no doubt, are very hard to finde, 

for dainty things are seldome sifted out ; 

the Phenix hath no partner of her kinde ; 

a man perhaps may seeke the world about, 

ere he may find one Campion agayne ; 

wherfore his losse makes me the more co/«plaine. 24 

Where shal you find so many giftes in one, 

a wit so sharpe, ioynd with such memory, 

a great diuine, hating promotion, 

a lusty man professing chastitie, 

a worthy roope* spronge vp of basest kinde, 

a lerned man to beare a lowly minde. 30 

* " roope," probably root. 

170 Campion Poems. II. — A Dialogue on Campion. 

Solon for pith, for Avisedome Salomon, 

Peter for style, and Paule for eloquence, 

Dauid for truetli, for beautie Absolon, 

for personage Saule, a Jobe for patience : 

all that for which the fame of these began, 

(a thing most strange) were ioynde in this one man. 36 

Not rack nor rope cold daunt his dredles mind, 

no hope nor hap could mone him where he stood, 

he wrote the truth as in his bookes we finde, 

which to confirrae he sealed with his blood, 

which makes me dout there are no mo such me//, 

send workmen, Lord, into thy vineyarde then ! ,42 


Dispaire thou not, thou seely mournful wight, 

for there are mo hauc tooke this match in hand ; 

we needs must win, our lord himself doth Hght, 

the Cananites shal be expulsd the land, 

for Edmund Hues and helpeth godly men 

by prayers, more then erst with tongue or pen. 48 

His quarters hong on euery gate do showe, 

his doctrine sound throgh countries far and neare, 

his head set vp so high doth call for moe 

to fight the fight which he endured here, 

the faith thus planted thus restored must be, 

take vp thy crosse, saith Christ, and folow me. 54 

As well as prelsts the lay men too shall frame 
their skillesse heads to take so good a vowe, 
God can of stones rayse seede to Abraham ; 
doubt not, therfore, for there will be enowe. 


Fiat volnntas Dei, then say I, 

we owe a death, and once we needes must dye. GO 




Campion Poems. II. — A Complaltit on Campion. 177 

€.U complaint of a Cat&olikc for tbc ticatf) of 
^. OBnmunti Campion. 

God, from sacred throne beholde 

our secret sorrowes here, 
Regard with grace our helplesse griefc, 

amend our mournfull cheere. 4 

The bodies of thj' Saintes abrode 

are set for foules to feede, 
And brutishe birds deuour the flesh 

of faithfull folke in deede. 8 

Alas ! I rue to thinke vpon 

the sentence truely scande. 
No prophet any honor hath 

within his natiue hmde. 12 

Thy dolefull death, Campion, is 

bcwayld in euery coste. 
But we Hue here & litle knowe 

what creatures we haue loste. in 

Bohemia hind himents the same, 

liodulphus court is sad, 
With deepe regarde they now recorde 

what vertues Campion had. 20 

Germania mourns, al Spayne doth mus3, 

and so doth Italy, 
And Fraunce our friend hath put in print 

his passing tragedie. 24 

They that wuld make these me;/ to seeme 

to be hir highnes foes, 
Lorde, it is a worlde to see 

the fayned fraude of those, 28 

For when they had in dastard wise 

deuised to dispute. 
And could not finde in al their craft 

the cause for to confute, .32 

And that their winnings was so well* 

they needed not to boste. 
And that in consciens they did know 

new found is lightly loste, :^6 

* Query small. 

178 Campion Poems. II. — A Complaint on Campion. 

They suttly seeke a further fetche 

contrary to all reason, 
To say he is not Ca}sars frende, 

accusing hira of treasone. 40 

But shal we mutche lament the same, 

or shall we more reioyce, 
Such was the case with Christ our lord, 

sutche was the Jewish voyce. 44 

So wer their wrathful words pronoun st, 

so was their sentence wrong, 
For Christ did giue to Cncsar that 

Avhich did to him belong ; 48 

So Christ his true disciples here 

no treason do pretend, ' 

But they by Christ and Christ his lore 

their fayth till death defende. 52 

Though error haue deuised now 

a visard so vnfit 
To cloke her craft to change the case, 

to blear ech simple wit, 56 

Because she taught vs long before 

that none for poynts of fayth. 
According vnto Christes lore 

ought to be done to death. 60 

Her wilines wer soone bewrayed, 

had they but once recanted, 
No doubt therof they had not then 

not life nor lining wanted. 64 

Thus who so ways her works & words, 

with fraude shal find them fraught, 
And how they now pcrforme the same 

that heretofore they taught. 68 

God knowcs it is not force nor might, 

not warre nor warlike band. 
Not shield & spear, not dint of sword, 

that nmst conuert the land : 72 

It is the blood by martirs shed, 

it is tliat noble traine. 
That fight with word & not with sword, 

and Christ their capitaine, 76 

For sooner shall you want the handes 

to shed sutch guiltles blood, 

Campion Poems. II. — A Complaint on Campion. 179 

Then wise and vertuous still to come 

to do tlieyr country good. 80 

God saue Elizabeth our queene, 

God send her happie raigne, 
And after earthly honors here, 

the heauenly ioyes to gayne. 84 

And all sutch men as heretofore 

haue misinformd her Grace, 
God graunt they may amend the same 

while here they haue the space. 88 


180 Campion Poems. III. — Anthony Munday's Reproof. 


[From *' A brccfc Aunswer made vnto two seditious Famplilots, the one printed 
in French and the other in English, contayning a defence of Edmnnd Campion 
and his complices, their moste horrible and vnnaturall Treasons against her Maiestie 
and the llealme. By A. M." London, 1582. (Lambeth Library).] 

Fcrocs in tfjc Liticll, mane in prapec of tbe 
ncati) of a^aistct Campion, one of tfje 
societie of tfje bolie name of 3leouo; fjcere 
cfjaiumeo to t6e reproofe of fjim ann tbe 
otber Craitours; 

WHY tloo T vse my paper, inke, and pen, 
and call my wits in cou^cell what to say ? 
Such memories were made for woorthy men. 
And not for such as seeke their Realms decay. 
An Angels trumpe exalts y^ Subiects trueth, 
When shame rings foorth y'' Traitors fearful rueth. 6 

Pardon my want, I offer naught but will. 

To note downe those, at whome the Skies do skowle : 
Campion his treaso^^s do exceed my skil. 

The cause, his comming, & the deede too fowle. 
Yet giue me leaue in base and homely verse, 
Ilis lewd attempts in England to rehearse. 12 

He came by vowe, the cause, his Princesse foyle, 

His armour, Treason, to his Countryes woe : 
His comfort, blood, slaughter & greeuous spoyle. 
The Deuill his Author had incenst him so. 
His triumphe, Englands ruine and decay : 
The Pope his Captaine, thirsting for it aj'c. 18 

From ease to paine, from honour to disgrace, 

From looue to hate, to daunger beeing well: 
Thus dyd he fall, flying his natiue place, 

and Countrey, where by duty he should dwell. 
Our no Apostle comming to restore. 
The bloody sway was sometime hcere before. 24 

Campmi Poems. III. — Anthony Mundcufs Reproof. 181 

His natures flowers were mixt with huwny gall, 

His lewd behauiour, enimie to skill ; 
A climing minde, reiecting wisedomes call, 
A sugred tongue, to shrowde a vicious will ; 
A iSaintlyke face, yet sucli a deuillish hart 
As sparde no trauaile for his countries smart. 30 

With tongue and pen, the trueth he did suppres. 

Stopping the way that Christians did desire, 
Which pleased God for his great wickednes. 
To stay his race, wherein he dyd aspire. 
Then his behauiour witnessed the more 
What he was then, as also long before. 3G 

His fare was good, yet he a scornefull cheare. 

His prison fayre, yet he a froward minde; 
His councell good, yet deafned was his eare, 
Perswasions large, he obstinate and blinde. 

Oh stubborne maw, oh minde & nature strau^ge ! 
Whome wisdom, pittie, grace, nor looue could chaungc. 42 

After great pause, they brought him to dispute, 
With Bookes as many as he could demaund ; 
His cheefest cause, they quickly did confute, 
His proofe layd downe, reprooued out of hand. 
So that the simplest pi-esent there could say, 
That Campions cause did beare the shame away. 48 

After his foyles so often to his face, 

It was thought good. Justice his deedes should trie ; 
UlDon appearaunce of so fowle a case, 

Nature her selfe, wild doome deseruedlie. 

Traitour he was, by prooucs sufficient fou/id ; 

The Jewrie sawe his Treasons so abound. 54 

Her Maiestie to be depriu'd of lyfe, 

A forraine power to enter in our Land ; 
Secrete rebellion must at home be rife, 

Seducing Preests recciu'd that charge in ha?id ; 
All this was cloaked with Peligious showc, 
But Justice tried, and found it was not so. 60 

182 Campion Poerns. III. — Anthony Miuulmjs Reproof. 

Then riglitfull doome bequeathed them to dye, 

"Whose treasons put her Maiestie in feare; 
Out on the fiend, whose mallice wrought so slie 
Hath wun a number, part with him to beare. 
But thinketh he, his enuie can preuaile ? 
No, little Dauid did the Giaunt quaile. 66 

My gratious Princesse, see your Subiects mone, 
8uch secret foes among them should be found. 
Who serue your Grace in duety euery one, 

though treaso^i seek to make their harts vusou^kI. 
The bloody woolf prayes on y® harmles sheepe. 
So treason seekes in loyall harts to creepe. 72 

England, looke vp, thy Children doo rebell ; 

Unreuerent actes liaue entred in their minde ; 
The subiect seekes his rightfull Prince to quell. 
Yea, his natiue Countrey prooues vnkinde. 

Campio;?, who sometime y" didst sweetly sourse. 
Prepares his venome to destroy his Nourse. 78 

Eliot reioyce, that God prolonged thee 

To take the man, who meant vs all such yll : 
As for thy slaunders, take them patiently, 

Enuie drawes blood, and yet hee can not kyll. 
Those who by words he seerade to put in fearc : 
Haue washt their liawds in iudgement sound and cleare. 84 

Myselfe a witnesse, Sled and all the rest 

who had their treasons noted in our Booke, 
Account our selues of God most highly blest, 
who gaue vs grace to such attempts to looke ; 
And hauing giuen our witnes sound &. plaine, 
We feare not mallice, nor his spightful train. m 

The well aduised Jewric on this cause, 

Who with discretion pondred euerie thing, 
Bchelde their treasons with such heedfull pause, 
That they fou/^d out the depth of Enuies sting. 
Whereby they saw the stirrers of this strife 
AYere farre vnwoorthv any lonffor life. m 

Campion Poems. III. — Anthony Mandaf/s Reproof. 183 

Yea, Elderton dootli dcskant in Ins rime, 

The high offences of such gracelesse men, 
Which causeth him to yrke at euerie crime. 
And gainst their treasons to prouide his pen ; 
Yet not without wisedome and modestio, 
To warne all other that Hue wickedlie. 102 

Hemember you that would oppresse the cause. 

Our Church is Christes, his honour cawnot die. 
Though hell him selfe reuest his griesly iawes. 
And ioyne in league with treason & poperie. 
Though craft deuise, and cruel rage oppresse, 
Christe will his chosen sty 11 in safetie blesse. 108 

You thought, perhaps, presu;;2ptious Qixm]non could 

disseuer those, whom Christ hath ioynd in one, 
And that our gratious louing sheepheard would. 
Before the woolfe, forsake his flock alone. 

No, he preserues his Sheepe fur greater good, 

And drownes y"^ rauener in his enuious blood. lu 

We knowe that Campion lining did intreate 

The Subiect from his vowde humilitie ; 
No we therefore shame his dealings dooth repcate 
Throughout the world to his great infamie. 

The skies the;;?selues, with lowring angry face, 
Adiudge his deedes, woorthy of all disgrace. 120 

All Europe woonders at this shamelesse man, 

England is fild with rumor of his race ; 
London must needes, for it was present than, 
whe« Justice did three Traitorous minds deface. 
The streets, y*^ stones, y" steps they lialde the^;^ by, 
Pronounst these Traitours woorthy for to die. 126 

The Tower sayeth he Treason did defend ; 

The Barre beares witnesse of his guilty minde ; 
Tiborne dooth tell he made a Traitours ende ; 
On euery gate example we may finde. 

In vaine they work to laude him wiih such fame. 

For hcauen & earth bcarcs witnes of his shame. 1.32 

184 Campion Poems. III. — Anthony Munday's Reproof. 

The rightful sentence giuen of him heere, 

Will charge his conscience in the time to come ; 
Although they say he is excused there, 

And shall not taste Gods iudgme?it & his doome. 
Saint Paul dooth say, in reuerence of y*^ highest, 
We all shall come before the seate of Christ, 13s 

There to make aunswer vnto euerie thiiiff, 

And to receyue reward accordinglie ; 

If well, the Cittie of our heauenlie king 

Shall recompence our former miserie, 

Where we with Angels voice continuallio, ■ 

Shall laude the gaine we haue so happilie. 144 

Then blinded mallice shall perceyue and sec 

His owne deuises, Author of his rueth ; 
And how true Subiects haue felicitie, 
In recompence of their assured trueth. 
The one condemnd for his disloyaltie, 
The other crownd for his fidelitie. 150 

Can Treason then preucnt our happy peace ? 

Or bliistring winds assayle our Sprouting Tree ? 
No, soueraine Faith sends down her due encrease, 
And shroudes her Plant in sweete tranquilitie ; 
80 that the foe, presuming on his might, 
Is forste to know : Faith can preuent him quite. 156 

Let vs not feare a mortall Tirant then, 

Seeing Faith and Trueth dooth eleuatc our harts, 
God hath reserued one to conquer ten, 

Let vs then learne to play true Christians parts. 
The head of him that sought our Cou^ztries wo 
Dooth witnesse shame to all that seeke it so. 162 

His youth dooth b3'd vs bannish filthy pride, 

his fleeting he?2ce, to serue our Prince in trueth ; 
His lewd profession dooth lay open wide, 

To fall from God, how greeuous is the rueth. 

His home returne, his Challenge, & deface, J 

Saith ; Subiects, keep true harts in euery place. 168 1 

Campion Toems. III. — Munday's Reproof [No. 2). 185 

His Ilardle drawes his sect vuto like ende, 

His speeches there, vnfolde their tretcherie ; 
His death dooth say : Who so his life dooth spe/al 
In faith and trueth, reapes ioy eternallie. 
His first and last, and all agree in one : 
Ther's none to helpe vs, but our God alone. 174 

Blessed be God, who cut him off so soone, 

Tha^^ked be Christ, which blest his seruants so ; 
Happy are we, that haue such comfort woon, 
curssed are they that thought to work vs woe ! 
Bounden we be to giue eternall prayse 
To Jesus name, wlio did such refuge rayse. \^o 


% anotfjcr upon t6c same. 

What iron hart, that would not melt in woe, 

what Steele or stoone could keepe him drie from teares ? 
To see a Subiect fall from duetie so, 

And arme him selfe vnto his Countries feares ? 
In their three deaths, y"^ standers by might see 
The ende of hatred and disloyaltie. 6 

England may mono a Subiect erred so. 

Without respect of God and Natures lawe ; 
And we our selues may show some signe of woe. 
That treason should our brother horn vs draw ; 
That Antichrist should gain our Campiows hart, 
And make him Soldier to his cou?itries smart. 12 

The skowling skies did storme and pufFe apace, 

they could not beare y° wro;ig y*^ malice wrought ; 
The Sun drew in his goldew shining face, 

y*' moistned clowds shed brinish teares vilih thought ; 
The Riuer Thames against his course would ru;^ 
To count the treasons Ca;«pion would haue doon. is 

186 Campion Poems. III. — Mundays Reproof {No. 2). 

Nature her selfe, with teares bedewd her face, 

Duetie in countenaunce looked pale and wan ; 
Shee, for to think her worke should her disgrace ; 
lie, to be wanting in an English man. 

Euen Antichriste, the eldest childe of hell, 

Began to blush, and thought he did not well. 24 

For loe, beholde, when Campion made his end, 
His hardued hart refused soiieraigne grace ; 
His owne reproche did so his minde offend, 
That treason did appeare vpon his face : 
An yrksome spectacle was presented then. 
In sight of God, of Angels, Saints, and men. 30 

The heaucns did cleere, y** Sun like gold did shine. 

The Clowdes were drie, the fearfull Iliuer ran, 
Nature and Vertue wipte their watred eyne, 
To see that lustice cut off such a man. 

Men, Angels, Saints, and all that saw him die, 

Gaue thankes to God in heauenly melodic. 30 

The}^ saw Peruersenes had withdrawn his minde, 

And Treason quite supplanted Due ties awe. 
Presumptuous thoughts did humble Patience blind ; 
There was no place for Graces, well they sawe. 
His falsehood, treasons and impietie, 
With blame and shame, did ende in infamie. 42 

By whose example, euerie Subiect maj^e 

Be warned howe they fall in such abuse ; 
And all their thoughts on loyaltie to staye, 

Least they likewise doo taste like sharpo refuse ; 
For Honour dooth exalt the Subiect iust, 
When Horrour throwes y® Traitour in y'' dust. 48 

Reioyce, be glad, triumph, sing Himnes of ioy ! 

Campion, Sherwin, Brian, haue their due ! 
They are supprest, that sought our great annoy ; 
I hope their fellowes shortly shall ensue ! 

For faithfuU minds doo lothe y* they should Hue, 

Who to their Countrey doo dishonour giue. 54 


Campion Poems. III. — Mandays Reproof [No. 3). 187 

a Dialogue tiettoeene a Cbri.otian anti Consolation. 

Christian speaketii first. 

Is chaste Susanna in the ludges handes ? 

Is Daniell left vnto the Lions iawes ? 
Doo Subiects breake bothe God & Natures ba^ides ? 
And Enuie seeke to put downe Peace her Iawes ? 
Dooth perfect awe and true Religion fayle ? 
Then may I feare that falsehood will preuayle. 6 


No, Susans foes the Lord will cut in twaine, 

and stop the mouthes of Daniclles enimies : 
Reioyce therfore, thou hast a noble trayne, 
Arrade by the Lord in most triumphant wise ; 
Whose life and death, thy quarrell will begin, 
To vanquish falsehood, Sathan, hell and sinne. 12 

Beholde of late, a Champion of their traine. 

Confuted, foyled, yea, and vanquished, 
With those who did like tretcheries maintaine, 
In their deuises, they soone perished : 

Lament not then, for Justice holds y® swoord, 

Who to them all, will like desert affoord. 18 


Alas ! I mourne, and sit with sighing minde, 

To see my natiue Countrey-men rebell 
Against the onel}^ Phoenix of her kinde. 

Who dooth in grace and goodncsse all excell. 

And could proud Cawipion thinke to worke her woe ? 
Lord, co?<fou;id them all y'^ seeke it so ! 24 

What were his giftes, if we recount ech one ? 

A pregnant wit, I graunt to tretcherie ; 
A bad Diuine, seeking promotion ; 
A lustie man, detesting chastitie ; 

A gracelesse impe, sprung vp of basest kinde ; 

A simple man, to beare a loftie minde. 30 

188 Campion Poems. III. — Munday' 8 Reproof {No. Z). 

His pithie wisedome, style and eloquence, 

Comparde with those of fame and dignitie, 
Dooth open plaine his freends insipience ; 
His confatation prooues it worthilie. 

All the reportes whereby his fame began, 

Were neuer found to harbour in the man. 30' 

Then boast no farder of his dreadlesse minde, 

Which rack nor roape could alter, as you say ; 
Recount his treasons, cruell and vnkindc. 

And then his prayse will soone be layd away. 

Your prayse, his powpe, nor al you haue in store, 

Can make the man the woorthier ere y° more. 42 


Tis true in dcede, their follie is in sight, 

vnto their shame that take like thing in hand ; 
We needs must win, our Lord himself doth fight. 
The Cananites shalbe expulst the Land ; 
Yea, all the dcedes of such vngodly men 
Shalbe confounded, nere to rise agen. 48 

Campion, his* quarters on the gates doo showe 

His treason, doctrine, and his lyfe too yll ; 
His head set vp, dooth daylie call for moe 
Of those that leane vnto like wicked wyll : 
Well may they flaunt & florish for a space. 
But trueth in ende their dealinges will disgrace. 54 

Not hell it selfe our iniurie can frame. 

But we shall prosper as the sprouting Baye ; 

God can of stones raj^se seede to Abraham ; 
He is our hope, and he wyll helpe vs aye. 


Fiat roluntas Dei, then saye I, 

I trust in God, whether I line or die. GO 

* Campion his = Campion's 

Cainjiion Poems. III. — Mnndat/'s licjjroof {jS^o. 4). 189 

Cfte Complaint of a Christian, rcmcmtirmo; tbe 
tinnatiirall treasons of CDmunti Campion anD 
[)i0 ConfcDccatcs. 

O God, from sacred throne beliolde 

our secret sorrowes here ; 
Regard with grace our helpless case/ 

amend our mournfull cheere. 4 

The creatures whome thou hast appoint 

to Hue in Princesse awe, 
Forsake their duetie, looue, and feare, 

and spurne at dueties lawe. 8 

Alas ! I rue to thinke vppon 

their factes so lately scand ; 
Ilowe they did seeke their Princesse deatli, 

and spoyle of natiue land. 12 

Thy Treasons, Campion, is bewaylde 

of many farre and neere, 
To thinke what vnkinde actions, thou 

wouldest haue perfourmed heere, 16 

Bohemia Land may well reioyce, 

Rodulphus Court be glad : 
That thou to recompence thy paine, 

such due desart hast had. 20 

Germania maye leaue off to mourne, 

yea, Spayne to muse, and. Italic, 
And Fraunce may rent that false report 

of thy surmised Tragedie. 24 

They that would make these men to sueme 

as not her Highnesse foes ; 
O Lorde, it is a world to see 

the fajmed fraude of those ! 28 

For when as Campion had presumde 

to challenge a dispute, 
Ilis craftie cloake was soone pulde off ; 

Learning did him confute. 32 

Albeit his cauilles, skornes, and coyle, 

he bare with shamelesse face, 
Yet trueth pulde off his craftie vayle, 

and shewed his wretched case ; ,3G 

* On'(ir. frrace. 

190 Ca?npio)i Poems. III. — Mirndai/s Rqiroof {No. 4). 

So that althougli they did withstand 

eche cause of right and reason, 
Yet Justice soone found out the depth 

of their most wicked treason. 40 

Justice perceiu'd how, vnder cloako 

of their Religion, 
They comprehended trayterous guile 

and false sedition. 44 

Justice perceyued howe they sought, 

within their natiue Soylo, 
To mooue rebellion and debate 

to worke our secrete spoyle. 48 

Justice perceyued howe the Pope, 

with forraine Princes might, 
AYould vse our England as him pleasde, 

and put our Queene from right. 52 

How that these men were sent before, 

by his perswasion. 
To make all ready gainst the tyme 

of his inuasion ; 50 

So that destruction suddenlie 

should come ypon vs all ; 
Those onely sau'd, had holie Grajmcs, 

or could the watch-woord call. CO 

All this did Justice playne discerne, 

with many matters more, 
Where-through they had the iust desart 

that they deseru'd therefore. G4 

God saue Elizabeth our Queene ! 

God sende her happie raigne ! 
And after earthlie Honours heere, 

the heauenlie ioj^es to gaine ! G8 

And all that seeke her secrete harme, 

or to annoy her Grace, 
God turne their hearts, or that they may 

enioy but lyttle space. 72 

Finis. Anf/toiii/ Munday. 

Canipioii Poems. IV. — CdDip/oti's Exanqyle. 191 


[From Domestic State Papers, James I., Vol. 32, No. 32, 11 April, 160S (Public 
Kecord Office).] 

Remember Campione, how he died, that worthy wight, 
Ralph Sherwine, and the rest besied, for Jesus right ; 
thow canst not allwaies Hue & lest stand stiff Dear frend, 
this breckish Liff is but a breth onct suer to end. 4 

This Campione was for wisdom Salamone ; 

peter for stiell & Paull for eloquence ; 

Dauid for truth, for beuty absolone, 

for personadg sauU ; a Job for paciens, 8 

all thinges of wA/ch in thes the sam begon, 

two thinges most Strang was Joind in this on man. 

No rack nor reap could daunt his [d]redles mynd, 

noe hop nor hap could moue hym wher he stood ; 12 

he wrot the truth w/thin our bockes wee find, 

which, to confirm he sealed with, his blood : 

I am in Doubt ther ar noe moor such men ; 

send workmen, Lord, into thi vinyard then. 16 

Dispair thow not, thow sealy mornfull wight, 

for ther are moor hath taken this match in hand, 

and Edmund lines & helpes the godly mene 

by prayers moor then herst by tong or pen : 20 

God cane of stone's raj^se sied to Abraham, 

therfor Doubt not ther wilbe Inne. 

Fiat voluntas Dey, then say wee, 

wee ove a death & onct must Die. 24 

Fynis i^er me Kebehe in Sasene na exe. 

Indorsed Gcorg Jarvcs Prist suffred for god and his truth at 
London the xi"^ of Aprijll, 1608. 

p 2 



As a specimen of the poems of John Lilliat, mentioned above, 
p. 160, we give the following two, of which the latter litters the 
writer's grievances. No information about the author seems at- 
tainable. There is no mention of him in Wood's Athence 
Oxonienses, nor are any productions by a person of such a name 
in Carew Hazlitt's Handbook. The edition of Watson's poems, 
previously alluded to, contains many other MS. poems at the 
end, besides those cited here, and at the conclusion are the follow- 
ing lines : — 

" Quisquis in liunc librum sua lumina verterit iinquara 
Nomen subscriptum perlcgat ille meum." 

Many of these pieces, however, cannot possibly be the pro- 
duction of John Lilliat; for instance, we find copied out the 
delicious old bucolic, so world-renowned, beginning, 

" Come live with nie, and be my love." 

Some of the songs in the MS. are accompanied by the music to 
which they were sung; among them is "A dittie vpon the death 
of Dulcebell Porter, my scholler : whose JMother died the 20 of 
Nouember, beinge Munday, 1598, and this her daughter, Jauuarii 
20, 1598." 

" Thy like not left for Musick's skill 
Waighinge thy age and arte togither." 

It would seem probable that Lilliat was a teacher of music. 

[Rawl. MS. 148, fol. 43.] 

(or anacSnc0t0 ^apingc of ^olonos twnttcu ^latur^). 


I meruajde mucli at spitefuU spiders giues, 
In such slight sort, that weaue their web so thin : 
Sith none but Bees, or silly harmeless flies, 
Intangled are, and fetterd fast therin. 
Their wile approues them parciall as I win. 
For if y® Drone should once anoy their Net, 
She rendes y" web, and soone therout doth get. 

LiUiat\ Malcontent. 193 

The drowsle drone thus easly scapes we see, 
which only lives vpon poore others toyle ; 
when little flie, and paynefull busie Bee, 
Is left behinde, alone to beare the broyle, 
whose fault but small, & yet to take the foyle : 

The Spider rather should the Drone enthrall ; 

Not Bees nor flies, w"*^ doe no harme at all. u 

Herin contayned ys a Misterie, 
w'* I refrayne in terraes to vtter flat : 
Perhapps our Lawes this web may signifie, 
But mum, be mute; no more I say of that. 
Let cease y^'' tongue, & learne to charme y^® chat. 

If I offend, in Spider, or in Bee, 

Blame Anacharsia ^ then, and blame not me. 21 

John Lilliat. 
Lex exlex. 

[Rawl. MSS. Poet 148, fol. 37.1 

lilliat, f)i,s 9@alecontcnt 

1. Attend awhile, 
The ragged stile, 

That from my Muse doth flo : 

Whose lowd lament, 

Of discontent, 
Copartner of my woe. G 

2. As men are friended. 
So Lawe ys ended. 

The adage olde doth say ; 

And with the moste, 

In evry Coast 
Affection bears the swa3% 12 

' ^yllo was a uoble philosopher borne in Scythia, and formed the first Potters wheele. 

194 The tcealicsf go to the mdl. 

3. Lewd Barabbas 
acquitted was 

And sett at libertie : 

when Jesus Christ, 

Sonne of the hig'hst, 
Condempned for to die. 18 

4. The innocent, 
in discontent, 

finds fewest friends, God knowes : 

when greater sway, 

bears all away, 
with bigg bravado showes. 24 

5. Let little flie, 
but looke awry, 

Rewarded with a rapp : 

When bigger bug 

doth striue & strug. 
And feareth not the slapp. 20 

6. True iustice flead, 
Playne dealing dead, 

The weakest to the wall : 

Wronge sets a face 

Right to disgrace. 
The Judge pleads parciall. 36 

7. Yet in all this, 
Not one ther is, 

My wronge will seeme to right ; 

But for myne ease, 

am glad to please. 
And say the Crowne is white, q*^ IcJ \. 42 

Lucffl. 21, 19. 

Per patientiam vestrara, 
possidete animas vestras. 

St. Barnard. 
Deiectum, nou eicctum. 



The career of the unfortunate Essex, one of the most brilliant 
favourites of Elizabeth, must always form an astonishing episode 
in her reign. While, however, we lament the caprice of the 
Queen, we see in this, as in corresponding reigns, that when a 
female sovereign holds sway, the Court must necessarily become 
a mere exercising ground for the most unscrupulous and in- 
defatigable adventurers. Of course this remark only holds good in 
the case of a semi-civilized country. As the rights of the citizen 
are more and more respected, the outrageous development of 
personalism — to coin a word — becomes in proportion impossible. 
The history of the Eussian Court during the whole of the last 
century furnishes a very striking parallel — a peculiar grossness, 
however, being added by the remoteness of the scene of action from 
tlie more polished centres of the west. In Essex's short life of 
thirty-four years many events of surpassing interest were crowded. 
In early youtli — and we must remember that his life was destined 
at best to be little more than j'outh — he served in the Netherlands 
with the Earl of Leicester, where he held the commission of a 
captain-general of the cavalry. On the approach of the Spanish 
Armada, he was appointed to the like command, although at 
the time only twentj^-one years of age. But a vigorous mind and 
a striking person had already marked him out as one of Fortune's 
favourites. On the death of Leicester, he succeeded him as the 
most prominent courtier; but his active temperament, rendering 
him disinclined to sink into the mere drawing-room honours of 
a carpet knight, urged him to join expeditions to France, where 
he was sent to assist Henry IV., and to Portugal, in an attempt 
to place Don Antonio on tlie throne, and thereby weaken the 
power of Philip of Spain, the uncompromising enemy of England. 
The ballad-writers have not failed to speak of this exploit, and 
Ave are told how he challenged the proudest in Lisbon to combat; 
and when they dreaded the English champion, he stuck his 
dagger in the gate in scorn of them, like the legendary Oleg of 
Eussian history hanging his shield derisively on the walls of 
trembling Constantinople. But his grandest achievement was 
the capture of Cadiz in the year 1590, when a combined fleet 
of English and Dutch, numbering 150 sail, and carrying 14,000 
men, sailed under the command of Essex in conjunction with 
Lord Howard. This is the celebrated exploit which is entitled 
in the Percy Collection the " Winning of Cales." When they 
arrived at ('adiz, they attacked the shipping in the harbour, and 

196 The Winn'uuj of Calcs. 

the Spanish commander \vas obliged to order the vessels to be 
burnt, to prevent them from falling into the hands of the English. 
Essex landed and captured the town, which he gave up to 
plunder. He wished to hold Cadiz ; but a council of war would 
not support him. The fleet therefore returned to England, laden 
with booty, and having inflicted on the Spaniards a loss of four 
millions sterling. Two ships of the enemy were also brought 
back — the St. Matthew and St. Andrew. Macaulay speaks of 
this expedition as " the most brilliant military exploit that was 
achieved on the Continent by English arms during the long 
interval which elapsed between the battle of Agincourt and that 
of Blenheim."^ 

Essex displayed great ability in the affair. He set at liberty 
some Moorish galley-slaves, and through them entered into 
communication with the revolted Moors of the south of Spain, 
who had been shamefully oi)pressed by Philip. 

In 1597 a fleet sailed under the Earl of Essex and Sir Walter 
Ealeigh against the Azores. This is the celebrated "island voyage," 
and the following prayer is attributed to the Queen on the setting 
out of the expedition. 

1 The readers of Percy's Ecliques — and ■who has not at some time or other 
familiarized himself with that epoch-making book? (an edition of the Percy Folio 
has fortunately been lately published by Messrs. Hales and Furnivall more suited 
to the critical Avants of the age) — will not have forgotten the ballad of the 
Winning of Cales (or Cadiz). The verses are rather doggrcl, but are fresh and 
accurate : the story of carrying off the two prize vessels is very circumstantially 
detailed — 

" The great St. Phillip, the pryde of the Spaniards, 
Was burnt to the bottom, and sunk in the sea ; 
But the St. Andrew, and eke the St. Matthew, 
Wee took in fight manfullye and brought away." 

The story of the number of gentlemen whom Essex knighted, and the rhyme in 
consequence, is too hackneyed to need repetition. The spoil of "Cales" formed 
a pleasant theme for song and jest for many a year. Thus we find in Hull's 
Satire (Singer's ed., 1824, p. 65), when he is describing the gallant: 

" Yet for all that, how stiffly struts he by, 
All trapped in the new-found bravery ; 
The nuns of new- won Calcs his bonnet lent, 
In lieu of their so kind a cdnquerment. 
What needed he fetch that from farthest Spain 
His giandam could have lent with lesser pain." 

The plunder from this expedition seems to have been most ample, but many of 
the adventurers who joined in it were discontented. From a recently-publislied 
Calendar of State Papers we get some curious details. All who shared in the 
voyage and contributed to the outlay seem to have looked upon it as a good 
investment. Thirty chests of armour were taken, of which twenty-three were 
delivered at Plvmouth to Sir Gillv Merrick. 


[Hurl. MS. G986, leaf 08.'] 

The Quexks ma. prayer at the goinge owt of the 

NAVYE. 1597. 

god, all-maker, keeper, and guider, Jnurement^ of thy 
rare-senc, vnused and seeld-heard-of goodues, powred in so 
plentifull sort vpon us full oft ; breeds now this boldnes, to 
craue with bowed knees, and heartes of hurailitye, thy large 
hande of helping power, to assist with wonder oure iust 
cause, not founded on Prides-motion nor begun on Malice- 
stock ; But, as thou best knowest, to whome nought is hid, 
grounded on iust defence from wronges, hate, and bloody 
desire of conquest. For scince, meanes thou hast imparted 
to saue that thou hast giuen, by enioying such a people, as 
scornes their bloodshed, where surelie ours is one : Fortifie 
(deare God) such heartes in such sort, as their best part may 
be worst, that to the truest part meant worst with least losse 
to such a Nation, as despise their Hues for their Cuntryes 
good. That all Forreine Landes may laud and admire the 
Omnipotency of thy worke : a fact alone for thee only to 
performe. So shall thy name be spread for wonders wrought, 
and the faithfull encouraged, to repose in thy vnfellowed 
grace : And wee that mynded nought but right, inchained 
in th}^ bondes for perpetuall slauer}^, and line and dye tlie 
sacrificers of oure soules for such obtayned fauoure. "Warrant, 
Deare Lorde, all this with thy command. 


The two commanders however quarrelled. They ravaged the 
island, but did not succeed in capturing the Spanish Plate Fleet : 
two or three galleons, however, returning from the Havannali, 
worth £100,000, were taken. 

From this period is said to date the bitter animosity which 
raged between Essex and Ealeigh during the few years of life 
wliicli remained to the former. It is sad to find the unfortunate 
Earl's enemy gloating over his end by watching his execution 
from an upper window in the Tower. There is an undoubted 
allusion to Kaleigli in lines 189, 190, on p. 30 of this volume : 

" But Rawe-boncs layde on lies at large, 
And howrelie sought to see his fall." 

For two years the Earl seems to have remained inactive, 

' This leaf has hctn numbered co. ^ Experience. 

198 H^sc.v and O'NciL 

struggling, no doubt, between the various factions, which at this 
period harassed the Court. In 1599, however, he was, at his own 
request, sent against the redoubted O'Neil, who had during the 
previous year totally defeated Sir Henry Bagnal at the battle 
of Blackwater (August 14th, 1598).^ He landed at Dublin 
April loth, 1599. The army placed under his command con- 
sisted of 18,000 men, the best levies in the counties, and many 
veterans from the Netherlands. 

His commission gave him unprecedented authority : he had 
the power of pardoning all crimes and treasons without ex- 
ception ; and he might continue the war or bring it to an end at 
his discretion. He was to direct his whole force as much as 
possible against Ulster, as this was the great centre of the 
rebellion. His first act, however, on arriving in Ireland, was to 
disobey the commands of the Queen. He appointed the Earl of 
Southampton commander of the cavalry, in direct opposition to 
Elizabeth's express order, to whom Southampton had given 
offence by a forbidden marriage. Nor did he remove him till 
a peremptory mandate from the Queen convinced him that she 
was no longer to be trifled with. 

Essex did not proceed to Ulster. Ou the contrary, he marched 
into Munster, reaching Limerick, and taking Cork and Waterford 
on his way, i-eturned to Dublin. He had only to boast of having 
made himself master of two castles, and received the submission 
of three native chieftains. 

Three months had already been consumed, and his army Avas 
greatly diminished by desertion, disease, and other casualties. 
About the end of August, with only 8000 men out of the 18,000, 
he met O'Neil on the banks of the Brenny ; but instead of fight- 
ing, concluded an armistice with him, to be renewed every six 
weeks during the winter, on condition that Essex should transmit 
to the Queen O'Neil's deniands, which were not likely to be very 
acceptable to her. 

In an interesting paper communicated by Mr. E. Shirley, of 
Eatington, to Notes and Queries (4th S. viii. p. 34), the true 
site of the celebrated interview between Essex and O'Neil on 
Sept. 7th, 1599, is said to have been "at a ford (since bridged 
over), called Anagh Clint, on the river Lagon, where at present 
passes the road between Carrick JMacross and Ardee, on the 
borders of the counties of Monoghan and Louth, and the provinces 
of Ulster and Leinster." 

1 The letter of Essex announcing his appointment will be found in the JViu/ce 
Aiitiquce, vol. i. p. 245. He adds (with a "gnod mouth-filliiif^ oath") : " I will 
heat Tyr-owen in the feilde ; for nothyiige worthy hir majesties honor hathc yet 
bcene atchicvede." 


[Ilarleian MS. 1291, leaf 40 back.] 

OF THE TuOrd 'LiF,VTe)iant generall of Ireland to- 

28 OF August vntill the ix. of September, 1599. 

No rebell in Ireland being able to contynew long w//'hout 
holdinge correspondency with. Tyrone,^ and receyuing of ayde 
from bim ; I can not tbynke tbey erre, who are of opinion 
that he (before any other rebell) were by her ma/fstis forces 
first to be taught his obedience, which, no doubt, hath beene, 
and is, the iudgrae;?t of the lord lemte)iant generall of 
Irelande. But that kingdome, being at his lords/ii-ps first 
landinge, either wholly entred into rebellion, or enclyninge 
to favor them w///ch were allready in action, the northeren 
frontiers being (besides their naturall sterillyty) soe wasted 
by Tyrone, that they denyed meanes not to susteine men 
but catle : and which is of as great consequence as any other 
consideration, his lordshiips army being then raw and vnex- 
perienced : yt seemeth to my weake sence to haue beene 
agreable to all pollic}^ both of state and warr, to haue first 
■visited y® weaker rebells. Against whome his lordship 
having performed so much as hath beene declared in my 
former relations ; and assured the south and west frontiers 
of y^ english pale, [leafii.] by sufiicient garrisons: he de- 
parted from Dublin towards castle Kerran, a village not 
farr from Kelles in East meath, where he mustred 2700 
foote and 300 horse, conducting them by the shortest way 
towards Donnemaine in ferny, purposing to plant there a 
garrison>?c, for that from that place might be ofiended eoni- 
modiously, all the rebells bordering vpon Blackwater. In 
his iorney his lordship visited Louth, which towne, althoughe 
yt stande conveniently to receiue a garrison^f, yet bycause 
yt could not be fortefied w/thout much chardge, tyme and 
travell; his lordship repayred [to] Ishleragh, a village neare 
Louth, placing in the same, two dayes after, seaven companyes 
of foote and a troope of horse, AVhilst this worke was in 

1 The struggle of Hugh O'Neil, surnamed Ruadh or the Red, forms the suhjcot 
of a curious poem in Ilardiman's Irish Minstrelsy. Tlie autlior supposes himsrlf 
at Rome, where he has a vision over the graves of the Celtic chieftain and his 

200 The Earl and Ti/rone. 

hand, S/r AYillim "Warreu obteyned leaue of his lordship 
that he might treat w/th Tyrone (who laye then encamped 
not aboue thre myles from vs w/th ten thowsand foote and 
a thowsand horse) for the deliuerye of captr//M John more, 
taken prisoner not many dales before in ophaly.^ Tyrone, 
professinge to S/r willim warren to haue had a longe tyme 
a great desyre to make his submission, And entreated the 
lord \\Q\xeienant hy him that he would be pleased to receiue 
a message from him by Henry Agen, his constable, who, 
being permitted to haue accesse vnto his lords/iip that night, 
entreated that his lordship would vouchsafe to parly w/th 
his master the next daye. To which the lord I'lenteiiant 
[ ] - [leaf 41 bk.] and saide that he would in the morning draw 
forth into the field and be readdy by ten a clocke to pr/rly 
w/th him, w/th his sword in hand. And that Tyrone might 
know him, he comaunded to be shewed to Agen his horse 
and amies, sayinge that he would send to Tyrone to know 
the markes lykewise of his, to the end they should not 
mistake one the other in the field, where sayd he to Agen, 
" yf thy master haue any confidence, either in the iustnes of 
his cause, or in the goodnes and nu;;^ber of his men, or in 
his owne vertu, of all w///ch he vaynelye glorieth ; he will 
meet me in the field so farr advanced before the head of his 
kerne ^ as my selfe shalbe separated from the front of my 
troopes, where we Avill pr/rlie in that fashion which, best 
beco;;nneth soldiers," which sayd, he licensed him to departe. 
Early in the morninge the lord lieutenant havinge ap- 
pointed a sufiicient nu/;/ber both of foote and horse, which 
he ordered in forme of a saltier or sanct Andrews cross, 
placing vpon eche flancque {which served for winges) 100 
hors, appoyntinge lykewise to follow the army not much 
behynde the E.earewarde an entier grosse of 100 horse, that 
out of the same might both be sent out seconds to any 
distressed parte, and also that in a generall adversytye yt 
might stand to make the retreat of the whole army : In 
this order his lorc/'^/z/p marched through an open champion, 

1 " The lord deputy, the Earl of Sussex, distinguished himself by the vigour 
of his government. He recovered from the native Irish the two districts of 
Ofally and Leix, which he moulded into counties, and named King's County and 
Queen's County, in honour of Philip and Mary." — Lingard, v. 236, cd. 18.54. 

2 There is a gap in the manuscript here. 

^ An Irish foot soldier. The word occurs in Shak.spere.' 

The Earl and Tyrone. 201 

vutill lie came w/thin a m3'le or thereaboutes of Tyrone's 
camp, w/i/ch (besydes the naturall strength thereof) was so 
strongly fortefyed by arte and industrye as yt appeared to 
them who had seene the woorkes, impossible to be [leaf 12.] 
forced by twenty tymes our number. 

"When the lord lieute^rnit expected in this place some 
howres in battell, a small nu;;iber of Tja-ones horsmen 
shewed themselues a farr of from our troopes, one of w/^/ch 
callinge to ours, tould them that Tyrone desyred much to 
speake w/th his lordsln'-p: And hvrably entreated the same. 
But that t3"me and place he thought not fitt, for that their 
prrrlye might be a cause to bringe the troopes to blowes, 
which, he studying by all meanes to prevent, had purposely 
conteined himselfe, w/th his whole forces, w/thin the lystes 
of his campe, w/«'che so soone as the lord licntenant vnder- 
stoode (makinge his E,eare the vantguard), he returned to 
his campe in his first order. Tyrone beinge resolued not to 
fight vpon equall grownde. And the 1o;y/ lieutenajit not 
having sufficient forces to attempt his campe, he resolued, by 
the advice of his counsell, to returne backe into meath. 
And directing his march accordingly, the next mornynge, 
towards Nabber, where his lo;Y/.s///p had porposed to fortefye 
and to plant a garrison;??, he was overtaken by Hen : Agen, 
who, having done his dutye to his lordshiv, he lett him 
vnderstand (speaking so lowd as all might heare that were 
present) That Tyrone desyred the queenes mercy, and in- 
treated to speake w/th his lordship concerninge the manner 
of making his submission : addinge, further, that Tyrone 
attended his lords/iips at a forde called Bellaclyne, not halfe 
a myle out of the waye of the army vpon the right hand 
of the march, w/;/ch being instantly viewed, b}^ such as his 
lordshi-p sent thither, they fownde the place convenient, and 
Tyrone attendinge there vnaccompanied ; to whome his 
lordship hasted, but not before he had sett a guard vpon the 
Baggage, and put both foote and horse in perfect order to 
fight. Bycause that tymos of treaties and pa>'lies haue ever 
beene held for moste suspected. 

aeaf42bk] Before the 1o;y/ lieutenant was fully arj^ved at the 
foarde, Tyrone tooke of his hatt, and enclyninge his bod}^, 
did his duty vnto his lordship : w/th very hvmble ceremony, 
contynewynge the same observancy the whole tyme of the 
parlye. It was first cmparled betweene themselues in 

202 The Irish and the Spaniards. 

pryvate, and then before six on either partye. "With the 
lord lieutenant were the earle of Southampton?, S/r Georg 
Bourchier, S/r warham St. leger, S/r Henry Danuers, S/r 
willim Constable, S/r wiitim warren. On Tyrones parte 
were Cormoc mac Baron, mac Guinies, Evard mac Cowleye ; 
mac Guyre, Henry ovengton, a7id E-ichard owen ; where 
yt was concluded that there should be a cessation from amies 
for six weekes, And the warr to be renewed at the lord 
lie\ite7iant pleasure, gevinge 14 dayes warninge. It was 
further agreed, That yt should be lawfull for all them that 
were now in action, to participate of the benefyte of this 
cessation, w///ch if any refused or neclected, they should be 
lefte by Tyrone and all his adhearents, to be prosecuted by 
her mau'sties army, for performance of which agreeme?it the 
1o>y/ lieutenant bownd him selfe in the honor of his woorde. 
And Tj^rone tyed him selfe by oath taken the next daye 
followinge by 4 comyssioners, S/r warham sen leger, S/r 
willim Constable, S/r willim warren, a?id Henry wootton,* 
secretary to the 1o;y/ lieutenant, of whome he is as worthely 
esteemed for his rare quallities as he is deservedly loved of 
all others for his vertues, And therefore thought the onely 
man in the armye fittest among the rest of the comissioners, 
that by the weight of his iudgment might be counterpoyzed 
the sharpnes of Hen: ovengtons witt, Tyrones cheefest 
counsellor. There were sent with the cowimissioners [leafis] 
for their guarde certeine troopes of horse, with whome 
remayned as pledge vntill the returne of the co;;/missioner8 
Evard mac Cowlye, Hen: Agcn, and Shane mac Donnell. 
Henry ovengton (without whome Tyrone deliberateth of no 
matter of moment) was nomynated for the fowreth pledge; 
but Tyrone intreated the co;;?missioners that they would rest 
satisfied with the others, and that ovengton myght remayne 
w/th him selfe. 

If there be either fayth in Tyrone, or truth in them that 
are moste of his counsell, he desyreth nothing more then 
peace, w///ch at this tyme had beene concluded ; but that he 
resteth bownde to the Spaniarde by oathe, to contynew in 
armes, yf the Spaniard shall lande such forces ^ in England 

1 The celebrated ProYost of Eton. See subsequent remarks upon him and his 
connexion with Henry Cuffe, the Earl's Secretary. 

2 Throughout the struggles of O'Neil considerable countenance had been lent 
him by Spain. It is to the assistance of this country, together with that of 
France, that the old Irish national songs, in the native language, always point. 

Ta)m(ri/. 203 

as might possesse and holde any place in that kingdonie, 
\v///ch not siicceedinge by the end of this moneth he hath 
faythfully p>'orayscd to the lord \\c\x.ienant to submitt him- 
selfe to the queen es mercy. Of the performance of w/z/ch 
promisse there is more hope for som.e important reasons, 
then for any truth w//2ch hath beene fownd in him selfe. 
ffor first his yeares (w/i/ch are drawinge to threescore) may 
moove him to desyre quiet, next, the establishment of his 
greatnes in his posterytj'e, w///ch he can not doe by the 
custome of Tamistr^'e^ if he should dye and leaue his children 
yonge. Thirdly, the feare w/r/ch he may conceiue of her 
ma/(?sties power, if she shall once resolue to presse him in 
dyvers partes at the same instant. And, lastly, a desyre 
wJiich. he may haue to preserue that infinite masse of wealthe 
yvhich he hath by iniustice and rapine heaped togeather, 
w/i/ch els wilbe in shorte tyme exhausted, by the maynteyn- 
inge of his Bonaghs- [leaf 43 bk.] and susteyninge them whom 
he hath robbed. 

So soone as this conclusion was made w/th Tj^rone, the 
\ord lieuetenant dissolued his army, and havinge lodged in 
such garrisons as served beste to preserue the subiect, he 
retyred himselfe to Droghedagh, from whence, after some 
few dayes, he returned to Dublin. 

^ Or Tanistry. Spenser sliall explain this word for us : 

" Endon. What is this which you call Tanist and Tanistry ? They be names 
and termes never heard of nor knowne to us. 

Nen. It is a custome amongst all the Irish that presently after the death of 
any of their chiefe Lords or Captaines, they doe presently assemble themselves to 
a place generally appointed and knowne unto them to choose another in his steed, 
where they doe nominate and elect for the most part, not the eldest sonne, nor 
any of the children of the Lord deceased, but the next to him of blood, that is 
the eldest and worthiest, as commonly the next brother unto him, if he have 
any, or the next cousin, or so forth, as any is elder in that kinred or sept, and 
then next to him doe they choose the next of the blood to be Tanist, who shall 
next succeed him in the said Captaincy, if he live thereunto." — View of the 
State of Ireland, Spenser's Works, Todd's edition, p. 505. 

2 Cavalry soldiers. There was also a bonaughty, which was a tax levied ou 
the people to support the bonaughts. 


JSssex's Knights, 

[Ashraole MS. 219, fol. 133.] i 

Knightes made iji Erland 1599 by the E. essex. 

Robart Cdfistabell. 

Edward Warreu. 

Cuthbertc luilsey, 31. (After tliis 

name the knights are numbered ) 
heugli oconardon, 32. 
Jhoii Maholand, 33. 
Make Swind -n, 34. 
Thomas baldillon, 35. 
'I'homas burke, 36. 
WilZ/Vnu warren, 37. 
henry lindley, 38. 
wilbrmi gaskon, 39. 
thomas otios, 40. 
Jlion Wagon, 41. 
Wilh'am Louelesse, 42. 
Jhou liariiigton, 43. 
Edward bhmt, 44. 
lloharte Digbey, 45. 
Henry goddard, 46. 
I'Mward Essex, 47. 
wilhVan Cornwallis, 48. 
wilb'rtm Reed, 49. 
Edward morgan, 50. 
Henry Carewe, 51. 
Richard worsand, 52. 
Edward Michelborn, 53. Ash. 862. 
Jhon haidon, 54. 
fraunces micrek, 55. 
Jhon Thrastcs, 56. 
georg lester, 57. 
Charells willmote, 58. 

The Erel of rutland, mentioned in Ash. 


MS. 862, art. 44. 


The Erell of Kildare. 


The Lord Cromwell, Ash. MS. 862, 

art. 44. 


The Lord Gray. 


The Lord Muuutigell, see Ash. MS. 


862, art. 44. 


Sr Robart Vernome, do. 


Sr Georg IManners. 


Sr Thomas Weste, do. 


Sr Henry Carey. 


Sr Jaslen percey.- 


Sr Carewe Lennalls. 


Sr wil/(Van godolphin. 


Sr williVnn Constable, d<i. 


Sr willumi Courtney. 


Sr Arter Chanipnoii. 


Sr Jhon Davyes, do. 


!jr Jhon polley. 


Sr frautices Lacon. 


Sr buet osborne. 


Sr Thomas Moston. , 


Sr Thomas Tosborowe. . 


Sr Fraunces Knight. 


Sr Fraunces hartley. 


Sr Georg thornton. 


Sr Terence oderscy. 


Sr fraunces deverox. 


Sr Richard Masterson. 


Sr Robart Lasket. 


What could Lave been the motives of Essex for this extra- 
ordinary conduct, it is not easy to discover. By liis many 
gallant actions we can easily see that he was no coward. Tlie 
ballad-writer speaks (p. 29, line 167) of a plot, and it is 
generally believed that the unfortunate Earl hurried back, divining 
but too surely that his enemies were busy against him during 

1 The MS. throughout is in Forman's handwriting. 

2 Is this name the same as Jozaphell Pearsey in Ash. MS. 862 ? 

Esscv appears at Coiiti. 205 

his absence. Great expectations had been formecl of tliis 
campaign, but they were to be rudely dashed to tlie ground. 
Shakespere only uttered the comnion opinion when he spoke of 
(Henry V. act v. Prologue, Chorus) — 

" the general of our gracious empress, 

(As in good time he may), from IreLand coming, 
bringing rebellion broached on his sword." 

The " Synon " who " subtellie did charme " was, no doul^t, Cecil, 
whom Essex repeatedly mentioned as one of his bitterest enemies.' 
lie now conceived the desperate design of suddenly appearing 
before the Queen, and effecting a reconciliation in person. lie 
abruptly presented himself at Nonsuch on the 28th of September, 
soon after she had risen, and was at first favourably received, 
and also at an audience accorded to him subsequently on the 
same day ; but he was shortly after delivered over to the Lord 
Keeper to be in his custody. Meanwhile the public voice as- 
serted itself loudly in favour of Essex. With the people he was 

' The allusion is of course to Yirgil, iEneid II. At some particular period 
of his disfavour, Essex had broken out into the following lines, which are 
preserved in the Ashmolean MS. 781. They have been already printed in 
Knight's London, vol. ii. p. 159. 

" Happy were he could [he] finish forth his fate 

In some unhaunted desert, moste obscure 

From all societies, from love and hate 

Of wordly folkes : then might he sleepe secure : 

Tlien wake againc, and give God praise. 

Content with hippes and hawes and bramble berrie, 

In contemplation spending all his dnyes ; 

And change of holy thoughts to make him mcrrie. 

Where when he dyes his tombe may be a bush. 

Where harmeless Robin dwells witli gentle Thrush." 
From the same MS. I also extract the following, " Annother of his to her Matie 
upon his commaund to goe for Ireland: " 

" From a minde delightinge in sorrowe, from spirits wasted with passion, fro>« 
a harte torne in peeces with care and greefe and travell, from a man that hateth 
himself and all thinges that keepe him aliue, what suruicc can yor matio expect 
since my service paste deserves noe mure then banishment and proscription into 
the cursedest of all countreyes ; nay, nay, it is your Rebells pride and success 
that must give me leave to Ransome my life out of that hatefuU prison of my 
loathed bodie, which if it happen soe yor mai^'e shall have not cause to mislike 
the fashion of my death, since the course of my life would never please you. 

''Yor matii-'s exiled servant, 

" Ro. Essex." 
Just at the period, when he might have commenced a new lease of favour with 
offended majesty, appeared the b>.ok of Dr. Ilayward— "The first part of the 
Life and Raigne of King Henrie the IIIL, extending to the first yeare of his 
raigne." Here the Queen, from some cause or other, imagined that she traced 
allusions to herself in the discussions upon the misgovernment of Richard II. ; 
and in the usurpation of Henry she saw a I'opresentation of the aspirations of Essex. 
The unfortunate author, on these frivolous grounds, was committed to prison. 


206 He marcltes into the City. 

a great favourite, as many lines in the accompanying ballads will 
amply testify. He had always opposed religious persecutions, 
and thus had gained friends both among Puritans and Eoman 
Catholics : he had also many staunch adherents among the 
military. On the 5th of June, 1600, Essex was examined 
before the Council, and ordered to keep himself to his own house. 
He had been in the custody of Lord Keeper Egerton since the 
preceding October. Upon the conclusion of this commission, 
Elizabeth deprived him of every office which he held by j^atent, 
and ordered him to remain a prisoner in his own house during 
her pleasure. He was however, at the end of three months, 
released from custody, but forbidden to present himself at Court 
without leave. Soon after, a valuable patent which he held 
expired; but Elizabeth refused to renew it, saying, "that in order 
to manage an ungovernable beast, he must be stinted in his 

The repeated efforts of Essex to gain the Queen's favour having 
been as repeatedly repulsed, made him more desperate. He 
entered into negociations with James of Scotland, representing 
that Cecil and his partisans were aiming at excluding tliat prince 
from the succession, and meditated bestowing the crown on tho 
Infanta. These eccentric proceedings gradually oozed out : 
accordingly Sir Thomas Egerton, Henry Somerset, Earl of 
Worcester, Sir William Knollys, and Sir John Popham were 
sent by the Queen to see what he was doing, and to summon 
him to appear before the Council. The scene of their arrival at 
the house of Essex presented all the characteristics of a riot. 
A large mob had collected. When Egerton desired Essex to 
privately explain his grievances, several voices exclaimed : 
" They abuse you, my Lord. They are undoing you. You lose 
your time." It was in vain that Elizabeth's emissary ordered 
every man to lay aside his arms in the Queen's name. The angry 
crowd, of whom Essex had long been the darling, shouted, "Kill 
them, keep them for pledges, throw the Great Seal out of the 
window." Finally they were locked up in a room, and detained 
as prisoners. 

On Sunday, February 8th, 1601, Essex, pretending that his life 
was in danger, marched into the City, leaving the lords in the 
care of Sir John Davyes, Francis Tresham — of whom Ave shall find 
mention in the Gunpowder Plot conspiracy — and Owen Salisbury ; 
but they were released in a few hours, and before Essex could 

The infatuated favourite rushed forward, exclaiming, " For 
the Queen ! for the Queen ! a plot is laid against my life." Not 
a citizen, however, joined him : the astonished crowd simply 

in. Trial. 207 

loolceJ on in amazement, exclaiming, " Go\ bless yom' honour I " 
After passing tlirough Ludgate and Cheapside, Essex, at a loss 
what step to take, entered the house of a supposed friend, then 
one of the sheriffs, who, " seeing the multitude, avoided himself 
out at a back door, when presently, in divers parts of the city, 
Essex was proclaimed a traitor, to the no less grief of the citizens 
than fear of his followers." 

Many of his friends now forsook hini, and about two o'clock 
in the afternoon he came to Graccchurch Street, and attempted 
to make a stand there ; but although tlie Mayor and othei's were 
at the end of the street, no one arrested him. He retired again 
to St. Paul's, ititending to pass by Ludgate the same way that 
he came ; but his progress was impeded by a barricade of empty 
carts, and some companies of troops hastily got together by the 
Bishop of London. The Earl was forced back, having been twice 
shot through tlie hat. Sir Christoper Blount was taken prisoner, 
and another associate named Tracy slain. Essex then continued 
his retreat, and in an agony of thirst desired drink of some of 
the citizens, which was given him. At Queenhithe he took boat, 
and succeeded in reaching his house in the Strand, which he 
fortified, intending to die in its defence. The place was, how- 
ever, soon stormed, and its inmates compelled to surrender. One 
of his companions, Captain Owen Salisbury, stood bareheaded 
at an open window, eager to rush upon his fate. A bullet from 
some one in the street struck him in the side of the head. " Oh ! 
that tliou hadst been so much my friend as to have shot a little 
lower!" he exclaimed. The wound, however, proved fatal, for 
he died on the following morning. By ten o'clock that evening 
Essex had surrendered, and was first conveyed to Lambeth, 
and subsequently to the Tower. On the 19th of February he 
and Southampton were arraigned before Lord Buckhurst, as Lord 
Steward, and twenty-five other peers. The indictment charged 
him, among a variety of treasonable acts, with having en- 
deavoured to raise himself to the royal dignity. The crown 
lawyers wei-e Yelverton, Coke, and Bacon. We cannot here 
enter into the question how far the latter can be justly charged 
with having betrayed his friend. The matter has certainly as- 
sumed a new phase since the publication of Mr. Hcpworth 
Dixon's book ; and Mr. Spedding also considers that Bacon was 
not guilty of treachery towards Essex (Spedding's Bacon, vol. iii. 
pp. 136-138). 

The Earl could only stoutly deny that he had nourished any 
idea of injuring the Queen, although his step-father, Sir Chris- 
topher r>lount, confessed at his execution, a few days later, that 
the conspirators, rather than fail in their ends, were prepared to 

Q 2 

208 The Sentence. 

have " drawn blood even from herself." He affirmed that he 
had taken up arms solely in defence of his own life, which was 
threatened by Lord Cobham and Sir W. Ealcigh. The peers 
declared Essex and his companion Southampton to be guilty of 
high treason. The latter earl — who has earned the gratitude of 
posterity by his patronage of Shakspere — remained in the Tower 
till the next reign, when he was released and restored to his 
title and estates.' Essex was privately executed in an inner 
court of the Tower. The circiunstances of his death, and the 
threefold stroke of the headsman, as recorded in Williams's 
ballad, are circumstantially correct (p. 33, line 274) ; but the 
reader Avho cares to have a more minute account of the event 
will iind it amply described in the two following narrations, 
now first published. 

The first, a touching "Account of the Death of Essex," 
from the Memories of Mr. 'J'homas Cook and Mr. Kidman, is 
taken from the Cambridge University MS. Kk, 1, 3 : — 

fon M?" The 25^1^ of februarie 1 GOO ; '-' beinge Ash Wedcns- 

[rjebrTieoo daie, aboute 8*^" of the clocke in the morningc, was 
[in] the lower. ^]-jq sentence of death executed against the Erie 
of Essex w/thin the Tower of London ; where a scafFoldo 
beinge set vp in the middest of the courte, & nearo vnto it 
a foiirme placed, where-onne satte the Earls of Cumberland 
& Hartford ; the Lo*^ Yiscounte Byndon ; Lo^ Thomas 
Ha ward then Lord Constable of the tower ; Lo*^ Darccy ; & 
Lo*^ Compton ; Sir Jhon Peyton Leiue tewnant of the towno ; 
w/th about 16'° partizcns of the guarde, was sent to bring 
the earle prisoner; whoe ca/;ime in a gowne of wrought veluet, 
a satten suite, & felte hatte all blacke ; and a litell ruffe band 
about his falling band ; and aryvinge onne the scaffold w/th 
S'"®^ chapleines D'^ Mountford, D*" Barlowe, and M"" Aslieton, 
Hee vailed his hatte, and makeinge reverence to the Lordcs, 
laied it awaio, and spoake to this effccte ; " My Lordes, and 
3'ee my christian bretheren, whoe are to bee witnesses of this 
my iuste punnishment, (at theis wordcs and all the while 
after liftinge vp his eyes moste intentiuelie to heauen), I 
confesse to the glorie of god, that I am a moste wretched 
sinner, and that my sinnes are moe in number, then the 
haires of my heade ; that I haue bestowed my youth in 
wantonnes, Iuste, and vncleannes ; and that I haue bceno 
puffed vp w«th pride, vanitie and loue of this worlds pleasure ; 

• See the fine lines addressed by Samuel Daniel to Southampton. 
- Old style: 1601 new. 

The EarPs Prayer. 209 

and that notwithstanding diners good motons inspired into 
mee from the spirit of god ; The good vfhich. I would I 
liave not donne ; and the evill wZiich I woulde not, that haue 
I donne; for all w7^^ch I humblie beseeche my saviour 
Christe to bee mediator to the eternall -majesiie for my 
pardon ; especiallie for this my laste sinne, this greate, this 
bloudie, this cryinge, this infectous sinne, whereby so manie 
for love to mee, haue bene drawne to offend god, to offend 
their sovereigne, and to offende the worlde ; I beseech god 
to forgiue it vs, and to forgone it mee the moste wretched 
of all ; I beseeche her mayVstie & the state, and Ministers 
thereof; to forgeue it vs; and I beseache god to send her 
ma/cstie a prosperous reigne, & a longe, if it bee his will ; 

Lord graunte her a wise & an vnderstanding hearte ; O 
Lord blesse her & the Nobles, and Mynisters of the church 
& of the state ; And I beseeche youe and the world, to 
houlde a charitable opinion of mee, for my intente'on to her- 
wards, whose death I protest I never meante, nor violence to 
her p^'rson ; Allso I desire all the world to forgiue mee, even 
as I doe freelie and from my harte forgeue all the world : 

1 was never I thanke god Atheiste to denie the power & 
omnipotencie of god ; never Papiste trusting in my owne 
meritts, but hope for my saluat^on, from god onelie, by the 
mercio & meritts of my saviour Jesus : This faith was I 
brought vp in, and herein am nowe readie to die ; beseech- 
inge yee all to ioyne your soules with, mee in praier, that 
my soule male bee lifted vp by faith aboue all earthlie things 
in my praier, for nowe I will giue my selfe to my private 
praier ; yet for that I beseeche youe to ioyne w^th mee ; I 
will speake that youe maie heare ; " Then putting of his 
gowne & ruffe, and presenting himselfe before the blocke, 
hee was, as it seemed, by one of the chapleines incourag^'d 
against feare or death ; to whome hee aunsweared, that 
" haveing bync diuers times in places of daunger, yet where 
death was neither so present nor certeyne, hee had fealte the 
weakenes of flesh, and therfore desired god nowe, in this 
greate conflicte, to strengthen him ; " and so preparing him- 
selfe to kneele downe, asked for the executeoner, whoe onne 
his knees all- so asked him pardon, to whome hee said, " thou 
art welcome to nice, I forgeue thee ; thoue art a minister of 
Justice : " and soe with like fixed ejTS on heaven and w/th 
long & pass/onutc pawses in his speacho ; bcgannc his praier; 

210 W/iat Mr. Ccolce rcmemhcml 

" Oil God creator of aft things, and Judge of all men, thoue 
haste let mee knowe by warranto out of thie word, that 
Satan is then moste buisie, when our eude is neareste ; and 
that sathan beinge resisted will flie ; I humblic beseech 
thee to assiste mee, in this my laste combate, and sithence 
thou accepteste even of all our desires, as of actes, accepte 
of my desire to resiste him even as of true resista/mce and 
pe/'fecte by thie grace, what thou seeste in my flesh to bee 
fraile & weake ; giue mee patience to beare, as beco;;?methe 
mee, this iuste punnishment inflicted on»e mee, b}^ so honor- 
able a tryall : graunte mee the inward comforte of thie 
spirit; let thie spirit scale vnto my soule an assurance of 
thie mercies : lifte my soule aboue all earthlie cogitatons, 
and when my life & bodie shall parte, sende thie blessed 
Angells, which, maie receave my soule, & convey it to thie 
ioyes in heaven." Then sayinge the Lords praier, (hee iterated 
this petit/on, * Lord Jesus forgeue vs our trespasses,') and 
the creede ; hee added, " Lord Jesu receaue my soule, into 
thie hands Lord I co«?mend my spirit ; " And so desir- 
inge to bee infourmed of what was fitte for him to doe, for 
desposinge him selfe fittlie to the blocke, (sayinge *hee would 
onelie stretch out his armes thus,' spreading them wide out,) 
his doublet taken of, in a scarlet wascoate, hee was willed 
by one of the doctors, to saie the beginninge of the 5P* 
psalme ; whereof when hee had said 2 verses, the execut/oner 
beinge then readie, hee bowed towards the blocke, and saide : 
" In humilitie and obedience to thie comwaundment, in 
obedience to thine ordinaunce, to thie good pleasure God, 
I prostrate my selfe to my deserued punishment;" so lyinge 
flatte a-longe onne the hordes, his armes streached out, hee 
saide, " Lord haue mercie vpon mee thie prostrate servaemt : " 
and then layinge downe his heade and fittinge it on the 
blocke, w/th theis laste wordes in his mouth, " Lord Jesu 
receaue my soule;" in the middeste of that sentence, yt was 
severed by the axe from his corps, at S'''® blowes, but the 
l'^*^ deadlie and absolutelie depriveinge sense and motion. 
All this was M. Thomas Cooks memorie ; a few other wordes 
uttered by the said Erie, M"" Kidman remembered ; & M*" 
Cooke to when hee heard them ; viz. " I am by nature feare- 
full of death as other men, and therfore if I beare it 
pacientlie and constantlie as a christian oughte to doe, I 
beseeche youe ascribe the glorie to god iJiai dooth strengthen 
me by his spirit, and not to mee." 

JE.'iSCx the Night before his Death. 211 

The following is another MS. account of the dcatli of the Earl 
of Essex : — 

[MS. R. 5. 12, Trin. Coll. Camb. Baker's copy, MS. : Mm. i. 44, fol. 81, 
Cambridge Univ. Library.] 

The Earle of Essex sufFred one Ashwednesday, the 25"' of 
Februarie 1600 within the tower of London, bctweene 7: & 
8: of the clocke in the morninge. The maner of his death, 
& the whole sume of such woords, as bee did speek to 
the guard ou^r night before he died, & such woords as he 
did deliver from his Chamber to the scaffold & also uppon 
the scaffold, to the hower of his death. 

One tuesdaie at night about eleven of the clocke he 
opened the casra^y^t of his windowe, & sjaake to the guard ; 
" My good Trends praie for me & to-morrowe I shall leave 
an example behind mee, that you shall remember, & j^ou 
shall see a stronge god & a weak man. I haue not anie 
thinge to give you, if I had, I W'ould give it to you, but 
I haue nothing left, but that I must paie unto the Queen 
to-morrowe." In the morninge he w^as brought out by the 
liftenant which, attended one him, w«th 3 : Divines exhortinge 
him, & at his cominge foorth of his chamber, he called 
verie hartelie to god, that he would give him strength & 
patience to the end, & all the waie as he came from the 
chamber to the scaffold he praied, sainge, "0 lord give me 
true Repentance & true patience, & true humilitie." Hee 
entreated those that went w/th him to praie for him, sainge, 
"0 god be mercifuU to mee the most wretched sinwer one the 
earth." Then he turned him to the nobellmen, that satt one 
the scaffold, & put of his Hatt, and said, "11*: Hon^'° Lo;y/s 
& right wor^ : & Christian Bretheren, that come hither to 
bee a witness of my death, I doe confesse before god & 
you all, that I have been a most miserabell & wretched 
sinner, & a notorious wretch, & that the sines of my youth 
have beene more then the haires of my head, for I have 
beene given to pride & to lust, vaine glory, & divers 
other greivous sines, accordinge to the fashion of this world, 
wherein I have most greiuously offended my God, & there- 
fore o Lord my God forgive mee m}^ sines & especiallic this 
last & bloudie fact this deadlie sine w/^/ch I have comitted 
& was ledd into, & also manie men have ventured for 
the love of mee both their lives, goodcs & soules, w///ch 

212 II i^ rrayer. 

is as great to mec as male bee. Lo : Jesue forgive nice & 
them, and for this bloudie fact. I have received an Hon^'° : 
triall and am iustlie condemned, protestinge on ray salvacon 
before God, that I never intended to hurt the person of her 
Ma*^®: my Soveraigne, & wheras I was condemned for my 
Religion, I protest before God and you all as I hope to [be] 
saved, I neu^r was Atheist nor Papist, for I doe defie them 
both with all my hart, nor was I eu^r anie other, then a 
true Cliridiow by profession, for I never denied the power 
of my God, nor I neuer beleived to be iustified bye workes : 
but the Religion wA/ch I p>-ofesse is, that I shall be re- 
deemed by the death & passion of Jesus Christ crucifyed 
for mie sines, in w///ch profession I have all waies bcene 
brought upp from my youth hitherto, et nowe bye Gods 
grace will die in the same, desireinge the God of Heauen, for 
Christs sake, not to suffer the flesh to have anie power ou^'r 
mee, but send thy holie Angell to bee neere mee." Then 
liftinge upp his hands & eies to Heaven, ho entreated the Lds : 
& his C//r/.s7ian Bretheren to assist him in praier, as Christ 
himselfe taught us, entretinge them not w/th eies & lipps 
onlie, but to lifte upp y'' harts & mindes also w/tli him to 
the Lord alsoc for him. Then he invocated one God zealous- 
lye, & praied for the good estate of her ma*^'^* : most Royall 
person ferventlie, for the longe continuance of her life & 
Raigne amongst us. He praied also for the whole estate 
of the nobillitic, & alsoe for the comonaltie. Then he 
said, "Right IIon^'°: Right wo^: and Christian Brethren, I 
will kneele down to praier & will praie aloud, because you 
shall hear mee what I saie, intreatinge you to praie with. 
mee & for mee." Then he kneeled downe before the Blocke, 
& entreated God to forgive him all his sins, & especiallie 
this last sin, this crynge sin, & most greivos sin, most 
humblie beseechinge her Ma^**^: to forgive & pardon him. 
Alsoe the like he desired of all Estates whatsoever. Then 
hee repeated the Lords Praier, & when he came to, "As we 
forgive them y"^ trespasses against us," he first reapeted it 
as it was written, & then againe ov^r thus, "as we forgive 
them all y' trespasses against us," & so to the ende of the 
Lords Praier. Then one of the Divines putt him in minde 
to saie the Beleifc, which he did, the Doctor sainge it softlie 
before him. Then hoc beiuge rcmembred by the Divines to 
forgive and praie for his enemies ; he praied for them all 

His Death. 213 

& desired God to forgive them freelie, as hee did, sainge, 
"for that they beare the Image of God, as well as my selfe." 
Then he called for the Excecutioner, who came one the 
Scaffold to him, & there besought him to forgive him, and 
hee looked upon him & said, "god forgive thee, for I doe, 
thou art the minister of true iustice. O God thou knowest, 
I have been in danger of deathe manie times in beinge 
fitinge against mie enemies, and I never was afraide of 
death, wherefore I praie thee God, give mee true patience, 
& trulie to be humbled to the end." 

Then he asked the Executioner, what he must doe and 
howe hee must lie, the w///ch he did as he was told. Then 
hee said, " I praie you praie for mee, & when you shall see 
mee strech foorth my Arms, & that mie necke bee laide on 
tlie blocke, & the stroake redie to be given, that it would 
please God to send his holie Angell to carrie my Soule upp 
pr^'sentlie before the mercie seate of the Everlastinge god." 
Then he kneleed downe & liftinge upp his Eies devoutly 
to Heauen, he thus said, "Lo: God, as one unto thine Altar 
doe I come, offeringe my bodie & bloud as a sacrifice." Then 
he laide his necke one the Blocke, & the coller of his 
Doublet did hinder the Execution, because it did cover his 
necke. Then himselfe did sale, "my Doublet dothe hinder 
thee, dothe it not," & w/th that he rose upp again & pulled it 
of, sainge, "what I must doe, I will doe," & then givinge 
his Bodie to thee Blocke agaiue & spreadinge his Armes 
abroad, & streatchinge his bodie at large, he repeated 
these his last woords, his necke beinge upon the Blocke, 
& bid the Execution^'r strike home, & said, "Lo: Jcsu 
come Lo: Jesu, receive my soule," and soe at three strokes 
hee stroke of his Head, & when his head was off & in 
the Execution(?>'s hand, his Eyes did open & shut, as in the 
time of his praier ; his bodie, feete, Armes, Leggs, Armes, 
nor fingers never stirred, neither anie part of him noe more 
then a iStone, neither at the first nor at the thirde stroke. 


The Execucon^ of the somtinic good Earlc of Essex (MS. 
Coll. Trin. Cant. 2, 5, 12). 

214 Was he a mere Coiwtier ? 

Williams, in his ballad, is evidently so great an admirer of 
Essex that he is unwilling to make mention of his delinquencies 
in Ireland, or of his subsequent rash enterprise against the Queen. 
It is quite possible that he may have been an old soldier who 
served under Essex : there are many minute points of detail in 
the poem which seem to show a personal experience of the 
campaigns of the ill-fated general. Thus he praises him for his 
anxiety in securing the soldiers' pay. 

Most of the ballads here printed will probably be censured 
by the reader as dull and tedious : he will however find ample 
proof of the great popularity which Essex enjoyed among all 
classes, owing to his real or affected sym^iathy with the doctrines 
of luiiversal toleration. 

Like all fashionable favourites, he was destined to have his 
epoch, "borne like bubbles onward," and among other proofs we 
find the following dance named from him (Harleian MS. oG7, 
leaf 178) : 

" The Earle of Essex. 
" A double forward, and a single backe, 4 times ; then to singles, 
sides, with a double forward and a double backe ; all over againe, 
and so end." 

Let it remind the reader of the bright time of the Earl, his 
joyous days, his gallant show at Court, before the poems speak 
of his 'hard waie' to the grave and death. That there must 
have been something more in the man tban mere vapouring 
bravado and the insane flourishes of a swash-buckler, we may 
conclude from his expedition to Cadiz, even if we do not go 
quite so far as the words of Ilallam, who S2:)oaks of that " too 
noble and high-minded spii'it, so ill-fitted for a servile and 

dissembling Court ; the consistent friend of 

religious liberty, whether the Catholic or the Puritan were to 
enjoy it" (Hallam's Constitutional IHstonj, i. p. 1G7). Sir Henry 
Wotton, who had been " taken into a serviceable friendship with 
the Earl of Essex, did personally attend his Concels and Imploj'^- 
ments in Two Voyages at Sea against the Spaniard, and also in 
that (which was the Earl's last into Ireland)," and had been 
obliged also to leave the kingdom at the time of the disgrace 
and execution of his patron, has left us a curious parallel be- 
tween Essex and George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, in 
which bespeaks thus of the former: "In the Earl we have two 
examples of his severity, the one in the Island Voyage, where 
he threw a Souldier with his own hands out of a ship ; the 
other in Ireland, where he deciuiated certain troops that ran 
away, renewing a peece of the Koman Discipline." 

Seme Boohs on Essex. ' 215 

This last act of seventy corroborates tLe account of the strict 
regime which he exercised over his soldiers, as mentioned in the 
ballad composed by llichard Williams. 

The body of Essex was buried in St. Peter's Chapel in the Tower. 
He left three legitimate children — 1st, the great Parliamentary 
general, Robert Uevereux, the third Earl of Essex, bom in 1592, 
restored in blood and honours in 1603, Avho died in 1G46 with- 
out issue, when the earldom became extinct ; 2nd, Frances, who 
married first the Earl of Hertford, and afterwards the Duke of 
Somerset ; 3rd, Dorothy, who married Sir Henry Shiidej^ and 
then William Stafford, of PJatherwyck, in Northamptonshire.' 

Lowndes gives the following list of books, etc., on and by 
Essex : — 

A Declaration of the Practises and Treasons attempted and committed by 
Robert late Earle of Essex, and his Complices. Lond. IGOl. Supposed to 
have been drawn up by Sir Francis Bacon. 

An Apologie of the Earle of Essex ; against those which jealously and mali- 
ciously tax him to be the Hinderer of the Peace and Quiet of his Country. 
Penned by himself in Anno 1598. Lond. 1603. 4to. Published by Lord Bacon. 
Eeprinted under the title of the Earl of Essex's Vindication of the War with 
Spain in an Apology to Mr. Anthony Bacon, penn'd Anno 1598. Loudon, 
1729. 8vo. 

Honors Fame, or the Life and Death of the Earle of Essex. 1604. 4to. 

Histoire de la Vie et Mort du Corate d'Essex, avec vn Discours grave et 
eloquent de la Royne d'Angleterre au Due dc Biron sur ce Subject. 1607. r2mo. 

The Earl of Essex his Letter to the Earle of Southampton in the Time of his 
Troubles. Loud. (1642). 4to. 

A Letter from the Earl of Essex to the Earl of Southampton in the latter 
Times of Q. Elizabeth's Reigue. Lond. 1643. 4to. 

Memoirs of the Life of Robert Devcreux, Earl of Essex. Lond. 1573. 8vo. 

To these may be added — 

The Arraignment, Tryal, and Condemnation of Robert Earl of Essex, and 
Henry Earl of Southampton, at Westminster the 19th of February, 1600, and 
in the 43 year of reign of Queen Elizabeth, for Kebelliously conspiring and 
endeavouring the Subversion of the Government, by Confederacy with Tyr-Owcn, 
that Popish 'J'raytor, and his Complices ; of whom these following, viz. : Sir 
Christopher Blunt, Sir Charles Dan vers, Sir Gillie Merrick, Henry Cuffc.- 
Couusel for the Queen, Sir Henry Yelverton, the Queen's Serjeant, Sir Edward 
Coke, the Queen's Attorney-General, afterwards Lord Chief- Justice of England, 
Mr. Bacon, afterwards Lord Chancellor. London, Printed for Tho. Basset, at 
the George in Fleet Street, Sam. Heyrick, at Grayes-Inn Gate in Holborn, and 
Math. Gillyflower, in Westminster Hall, 1679. 

1 Williams speaks of two "gallantc Impes," and the second must be au 
illegitimate son named Walter, see Biographia Britannica, 1793, vol. v. p. 155 ; 
also for a complete pedigree of the family Bni-onagium Genralngicum, vol. iii. 1784. 

^ See the poems written by this niau, who is said to have beeu one of the 
worst advisers of Essex. 

216 Walter Devereux. 

"The ballad of 'Essex's last good night' is," says Mr. Chappell 
(Popular Music, vol. i. p. 175), " on the death of Walter Devereux, 
Earl of Essex (father of Queen Elizabeth's favourite), who died 
in Dublin in 1576 (Sep. 22)." "The Paradise of Dainty Devises" 
(1580) has a poem called "The Complaint of a Sinner, and 
sung by the Earle of Essex upon his death-bed in Ireland." The 
poem begins, 

" Oh ! heavenly God, Father deere, cast down thy tender eye." 

Tliis production alludes to the death of Walter, Earl of Essex, 
which occurred under somewhat suspicious circumstances, his 
own wife not escaping from the loud echoes of a common 
oensuro, which her subsequent hasty marriage did nothing to 

Upon Essex himself, besides the poems here printed, wo have 
" A lamentable dittie composed upon the death of Kobcrt Lord 
Devereux, late Eai'le of Essex, who was beheaded in the Tower 
of London, ujion Ash Wednesday, in the morning, IGOl, To 
the tune of Well-a-day. Imprinted at London for Margaret 
Allde, etc., 1G03." Keprintcd in Collier's Old Ballads, p. 124, 
8vo. 1810; and in Evans, vol. iii. p. 158. Copies are also in the 
Bagford and Koxbur<>ho Collections. 


[Harl. MS. 6910, leaf 177.] 

Fecscs upon ftc report of ftc ticatj) of tbz rigbt 
©onoratJle tfte Lorn of e%%(B^, 

This is a somewhat tedious poem, of unknown authorship. The 
verses, however, show the great popuharity which Essex enjoyed. 
At the conclusion we have one of the pastoral dialogues so much 
in vogue at the period. 

Good God ! what will at lenght become of vs ? 
What hope haue wee, when all our hope is gone ? 
"Woe hope in vaine, if thou wilt plague vs thus, 
To take the good, and let the badd alone. 
Send liira agayne. Great Joue, let him returno, 
AVhose losse wee greeue, whose death wee nought but 
mourue. 6 

Send him againe to vs, that now at last 

Our sommer season may returne agayne ; 

That those cold nights which wee in teares haue past 

May prooue efFectuail, ne be spent in vaync. 

O let him come, that now my teares may end : 

Els send me, loue, more store of teares to spend. 12 

Not longe it is since that wee had him heere : 

And yet tis long since I his death gan mourne : 

Each minute seemcs an howre, each howre a yeare. 

Each yeare an adge to them t//at Hue forlorne. 

An adge in pleasure seemes but an howre or twayne ; 

An howre wilt seerae an adge, if spent in pajaie. 18 

Could I but soare with Eagle winges on hye, 

And flye to Heauen as Orpheus went to heit. 

So thou mightost Hue, I would not care to dye, 

Let loue but suffer mee my Tale to tett : 

If Orpheus mou'd tli' infernaft Gods to pittye, 

loue coulde not chuse but heere my wofull ditt3'e. 24 

218 The Author's Tears. 

Orplieus did trauaill with his well tun'd Lute, 

And gott his wife by his alluring stroake ; 

But my sadd tale should first begin my sute, [u. nvbk.] 

Hoping to mooue a hart as harde as oke, 

If teares and prayers might preuayle as welt, 

As Hermes pipe, or Orpheus Lute in Heft. 30 

The many ey'd Argus was indue'd to sleepe. 
Whilst Hermes played vpon his slender reed, 
And lull'de therwith forgat his charge to keope. 
Twas Hermes pipe, Twas it thai did the deed. 

happie Lute, o happye pipe of thyne, 

His Lute, thy pipe prevaild, and so may myne. .3f3 

1 haue a pipe which shall I hope preuaile. 
The selfe same pipe that Hermes vsde of late. 
My P3^pe ile vse if all meanes els do fayle. 
With it Ile sweetly singe at heauen gate. 
Joue must be Lull'd a sleepe, and ere it be day, 

With mce my harts delight shall wend away. 42 

But how to find the way is all my care ; 

The way to Heauen is straight and perillous ; 

There standi.? the Lyon, Bull, the Hammo, the Beare, 

A Hundreth beasts besj'dfs as daungcrous. 

Therforo I will with teares intreate once more 

That Joue will heare mee, and my deare restore. 48 

Oh how mee thinkes I feele my slubbred cheekes 

From foorth myne eyes greife-easing-teares to call : 

A burning feauer still for moisture seekes : 

That place must wither, wher no rayne doth fall : 

No meruaile then if that my face doth wither ; 

For why, my teares are gon I know not whither. 54 

Yet were my cheekes so throughly wett of late 

With floodes of teares in such aboundance falling : 

That litle streames did flow wheras I sate : 

That now, alas ! my teares are past recalling : [if. its.] 

So long I spared not for teares that now 

To wecpe on more, Alas ! I know not how. CO 

Nature Grieving. 219 

Yet though mine eyes are drie, my hart is wctt, 

From whence full streanies of luke warrae blood do fall. 

And if my tcares cannot this fauour get, 

My blood is thyne, my hart, my life and all : 

Because my teares are dry, my hart shall mourne, 

Crying (deare Essex) for thy quicke returne. m 

Oh let my teares yet mooue thee (gentle Jove), 

Behould mj^ greife, respect the paynes I suffer : 

Thou that behouldst each creature from aboue, 

Accept this last oblation that I offer. 

My teares are dryed, my blood still wastes awa}^ 

How long (sweet Essex), how long wilt thou stay ? 72 

Come quickly, Essex, els thou stayest to longe ; 

Thou stayest to long, although thou cora'st to-day ; 

Although thou com'st to-day, thou dost vs wrong ; 

Thou doest vs wrong, come therefore, come away : 

Come, come, each groue doth nought but Essex cry ; 

Each shore cries Essex, Essex ; so will I. 78 

Looke how eacli tree begins to hang his head, 

And lefts his fadeing leaues with sorrow fall. 

See euery plant and euery hearb lookes dead ; 

The greenest grasse for sorrow waxeth pale ; 

Each litle strearae aboue his bankes doth swell ; 

Greiuing for him whome all things lou'd so weti". 84 

For greife the fountaines inly troubled are ; 

ffor greife echo tree hath chaungd his somnier coate ; 

ffor greife away the swallow flyeth farre ; 

ffor greife each pretty bird hath chaungd his noate ; 

ffor greife each beast and bird is prest to dye ; 

ffor greife my Essex dyed, and so will I. nr.irsbk.] 90 

Then let me line no longer, let me dye ; 

Let Sunne no longer see my weary boanes ; 

But let my spirit to his sweet soule vp flye, 

That lives among the saintes and holy ones. 

Come, death, I praye thee, fye ! how long thou art ! 

Why bend thy bow, let fly, heere, heeres my hart. <)G 

220 Essex, receive thy Crown. 

The Heauens I thinke sufficiently haue wept, 

That both the earth below, and seas cries " hoe ! " ^ 

The Ileauens knew weft for whome those teares they kept, 

They knew on whome they might them best bestow. 

And now I thinke they haue not spared the same : 

The earth shall Judge for whome, and whence they came. 102 

They came for Essex, but they came from heauen ; 

They came for him whome wee would haue agayne ; 

They came from heauen to make all rccknings euen, 

To cleare the counts that were betweene them twaine. 

Now all accompts are clcar'd, why dost thou stay ? 

Now all is euen, why comst thou not away ? 108 

Then let him come, sweete Joue, and send him downe. 

I know he's happie, make vs happie to. 

Come quickly, Essex, and receiue thy crowne. 

Which wee haue made for thee w/th muche adoe ; 

This Laurell Crowne, which never yet was worne. 

But kept for thee against thou didst returne. 114 

I know thou hearst, thou canst not chuse but hearc ; 

And hearing, wilt thou not do thus much for me ? 

Come downe a while, thou shalt not stay, my dearo. 

Why comst thou not ? alas ! docst thou abhorre me ? 

After a while w/th leaue thou shalt returne. 

And then shall I haue leaue and tyme to mournc. 120 

Then shall I to the woods with Philomell, [if ,79] 

And there consume my wreatched da3^es w/th mourning ; 

The prickly Briers shall be ray Centinell, 

And keepe mjaie eyes awake against the morning. 

That then the woodes maye heare the plaint^s I make, 

For thy sweet soule (sweet Essex), for thy sake. 12G 

' And at a stert he was bctwix hem two, 
And pulled out a swerd, and cryed, IIoo." 

— Chaucer, Knight's Tale. 

JUssp.r CIS a Warrior. 221 

Some darkesorae denne, and ouergrowne with mosse, 

I shaft fynd out, where I may rest my boanes. 

And there He sitt, and there bewayle my losse, 

There wift I rest, my pillowe made of stones. 

The earth my bed ; and this is all for thee, 

ifor thee (dears Essex) whome I long to see. 132 

A Hermits life shall best become my state, 

A Hermits weede shaft best become my backe, 

A Hermits dish instead of siluer plate, 

Nought shall I haue, yet nothing shall I lacke. 

He walke and weepe, He nought but sight all day, 

And all night longe He sitt me downe a)id pray. 13S 

He praye, He weepe ; He pray for thy retourne, 

He weepe because thou art so long away. 

Ne cease to pray, tift f^'re shall cease to bourne : 

Nor cease to weepe, till sunne shall cease by day 

To shew his glorious face. He pray, He weep — 

I made a vow to thee ; ray vowe He keepe. 144 

Thus like a Hermite will I walke alonge. 

And muse on nought but of thy glorious acts : 

Thy speare, thy Launce, thy Sheildc, shall be my songe ; 

He singe of nought but of thy Noble facts. 

Are Pompeys warrs, or Ceasars conquests knowne, 

And shaft not thyne all-passing-acts be shewne ? ir)(» 

Their deeds were graced by the singers songe, 

That could at large discribe what they had done. 

Direct my pen, Great Iove, I may not wronge [ir. i-gbk-.] 

Nor clipse his fame, that hath more honoure woone ; 

Ceasar nor Pompey may compare w/th thee, 

Thrice happye Hevorax, if thrice may bee. 156 

AVhat shall hearafter after adges say, 

If all thy conquests wonne be straight forgotten ? 

The body dyes, thy name shaft ne're decay ; 

Thy fame shall liue, thy body dead and rotten. 

And thou shouldst liue, if I might haue my wift, 

But sith thou canst not liue, thv name liue stift. 1C2 

222 He n-af< fcareil hy iJie Irish. 

And art thou dead, my deare, and couldst thou dye ? 

And leaue ys thus in this tempestious tyme ? 

Thy soule, to good for earth, to heauen doth flye, 

More fitt, indeed, for that celestiaft Clyme. 

There shalt thou haue the meede of all thy labour. 

Though heere on earth thou hast had litle fauour, 1G8 

This is the fauour that thou hast receiued. 

Thou art with Scipio into exile sent ; 

At least, thou art of common Ayre bereaued ; 

At least, thou art (Alas !) in prison pent. 

After such conquests wonne, so Scipio far'de : 

Thou hast M'ith Scipio this for thy rewai'de. 174 

Thou, that hast grac'st so much this litle land, 

And with the yictores garland crown'd her head, 

Whome Spaniards dread for thy victorious hand. 

And Irish rebells feare, "What ! art thou dead ? 

Once more I pray thee, Iove, let him returne, 

That wee that lou'd him so may cease to mournc. 180 

And yet it may bee that hee will not deigne 

That this ingratefult Land agayne sliould haue him ; 

But teft him, Iove, how hee is wisht agayne. 

How much wee want him, and how much wee craue him, 

Giue him these lynes, for these I hope shall mooue him,[,f jgo] 

These shew our harts and mynds, and how wee loue him. 186 

Wee loue him still, and still wee wish him heare, 

"Wee loue and wish for him, that want him most ; 

Should wee not wish liim, whome wee held so deare 

Before the parting of his blessed ghost ? 

Aliue wee lou'd him ; dead, we loue him more: — 

They loue him dead, that lou'd him not before. 192 

But had wee lou'd him as our duty was. 

Our dutie was t' haue crown'd his head w/th ba}^ 

And not t' haue caus'd him, as wee haue, alas ! 

Ingratefutt wee to make such hast away, 

Inwratefuft wee that were the cause of this, 

AYe onely loosers are, yett hee a winner is. 198 

irear thy Croioi, Eliza ! 223 

Though hee hath lost his life, yet hatli he wonne 

A Crowne of Glorie in the highest spheare, 

A Crowne that farre excells the midday Sunne, 

The midday Sunne when as it shynes most cleare : 

His Crowne excells an earthly Crowne as farre 

As doth the Sunne excell a lesser starre. 204 

Whom could it then haue greiu'd, if hee had scene 

his manl}' face a Lauretl garland weare ? 

This honoure was his due, if it had bin 

Ten tymes — nay, if a Thousand tj^mes — more deare ; 

But some haue Crown'd his head, in stead of bay, 

With foule reproach, as much as in them laj-e. 210 

That head that was more fitt a crowne to weare, 

Nor must, nor dare, I say, a crowne of Gold : 

A Crowne of Gould, alas ! it were to deare ; 

'Twere deare to gett, but dearer farre to hould. 

Nor do I wish to see more Crownes than one. 

And none to raigne but faire ELIS' alone. [if.isobk] 2lG 

And let her raigne. Good God, as long as I 

Or any other drawes his vitall breath ; 

And let her Hue, and let her neuer dye. 

But rule tilt Christ shall come and conquer death. 

Weare thou thy Crowne, ELISA ! 'tis thyne owne, 

And keepe it stitl in despite of thy foen. 222 

Weai^e thou thy Crowne, ELISA ! weare it still, 

And prosper stilt, God graunt, vntitt the end ! 

This haue I pray'd for thee. Now, be it thy wilt. 

That I may pray this one thing for a freend. 

I can but wish It him, I can but craue it ; 

If I could giue it him, he should surely haue it. 228 

I wish him, then, a Crowne, — a Crowne of Bayes, 

That he might triumph in his victors weed ; 

Me thinks this might, Great QUEENE, prolonge thy dayes, 

To see that Crownes should be thy subiects meede 

Is't not an honoure, is't not a grace to thee. 

To gouerne those that like Kings Crowned be ? 234 

E 2 

224 Eeroifjc. 

AUhougli ttere bee I knowe, althougli not many, 

Yet too, too many, if there be but two,^ 

That frett and grind there teeth, if there be anj^, 

To whome we bend and more obeisaunce doe, 

Some envie thee, wee envie stitt our better : 

Their better then thou art, but must remaine their debter. 24(^ 

Thou must remaine their debter for a tyme ; 

And if thou neuer shalt discharg thy detts, 

Yet know they Hue that liuing still are thyne ; 

Thy Sonnes will trul}^ tread their father's stepps, 

Nor cease vntiil they haue appeasde thy ghost, 

With offering vp their blood to him they hated most, [ir.isi.] 21G 

I cannot sleepe one winke, thy troubled spirit 

Doth still pursue me wheresoere I goe. 

I cannot rest bj^ day, nor sleepe by night, 

Thy Ghost still askes me what I raeane to doe, 

Reuenge ! Reuenge ! nought but revenge I heare ; 

Revenge I thy Ghost still soundeth in myne eare. 252 

Me thought I saw Alecto stand amaz'de ; 

Tisiphone did shake her ougly head, 

And in my face the fell Mega'ra gaz'de, 

And weeping sayd, looke, looke, here lyes hee dead. 

The furies wept, the furies wept amayne : 

What hart so hard that could from toares refraine ? 258 

The furies wept to see earth's wonder lye. 

And neuer stirre, nor mooue, nor draw his breath ; 

They stood amaz'de to thinke that he could dye. 

That foyled Mars in feild, and fear'd not death ; 

They went to see him in his winding sheete. 

And Av/th there watery teares they washt his feete. 204 

Three tymes they lifted vp his heade from grounde. 
Three tymes I saw them kisse his paler browe, 
Three tymes they daunc'de his sencelesse corps arounde. 
Three tymes they stand stone stilt. Three tymes they bowe 
Them selues a-crosse. Three tymes I heard them sing 
Haile, ESSEX ! hayle to thee ! all haile, our King ! 270 

* Ealeigh and Cecil are probahlj' here alluded to. 

The Souh greet Easex. 225 

AVitli that mee thought I sawe them post away, 

And carye him betweeue them in the ayer, 

And in a stately tombe his corps to laye, 

Whither they may at their due tymes repayre, 

And there solemnize with continuatt cries 

His death, whose body there intombed lyes. 276 

Mee thought againe I sawe when as my deare [ir. isibk.i 

"Went to the Elisian plaines to take his place ; 

Mee thought I sawe wlien he aproched neare, 

Thousandf'.s of Soules stand stareing in his face : 

They wondred much to see earths wonder there ; 

They wondred most of all that knew him heere. 282 

I sawe how euerie Ghost did bend full lowe, 

And crouche to him as soone as hee came nye : 

Greene herbes, and Roses sweete, I saw them strowe, 

As if some bridgrome were to passe therby. 

Some looking stood, some gaz'd, mo prest to see ; 

But most did wonder who the same might bee. 288 

As if some Commet, or some biasing starre, 

Or strangest Meteor in the ayre had been, 

Or els as if a flaming fyre from farre 

In sylent night were on a suddaine scene ; 

ISo stood each Ghost amazde, and could not tett 

AVhat they might thinke to see such ghosts in helt. 294 

Or as a wearie trauailer should tread 

His foote by chaunce vi^on a deadly snake,^ 

Starts backe aga^'ne, and wit/i pale feare lookes dead : 

Feare of the danger past doth make him quake. 

Each ghost did quake and tremble for to see 

Such Ghosts to passe the river Styx as hee. 300 

Mee thought I sawe how Pluto was agast, 

AVhen sudayne newes was brought into his courte, 

How DEVORAX the Stygian lake had past. 

And thousandes dayly did to him resort : 

Pluto for anger looked pale and wanne. 

Till on a suddaine thus a Ghost began. 306 

^ Sec Virgil, ii. 370 : "Improvisum aspris veluti qui sculibus angucm 
Fressit humi nitcus." 

226 J^ssex f/ie Son of Jiq)ifcr. 

Most Soueraigne Lord, kinge of tli' iufernall deepe, 

Prince of Auernus and of Acheron, nr. i82.] 

Lord of those plaines where blessed soules do sleepe, 

Ruler of Lethe and obliuion ; 

Great Pluto, whome th' infernaft Ghosts do feare, 

Marke well my wordes, and to my talle giue eare. 312 

There hath of late arriued at our Coast, 

And hath already past the Stigian lake, 

Some Princes spirit, some mightie monarchs ghost, 

At sight of whome ech ghost in hell doth quake ; 

Such glory shinncth in his manly face. 

That Phoebus rides not with so great a grace. 318 

My self did see him, soone as ere he came ; 

Come step by step, with such a maiestie. 

That sure he was a man of muckle fame, 

Of great renowme, and greater dignitye : 

His gesture, gate, and cariage doth declare 

He was not as the basser co/y^mons are. 324 

I surely thinke he was some goddese child. 

For sure he cannot be of mortall blood ; 

Or els some Nimph hath bin by chaunce beguil'd. 

As shee was sporting in some pleasant wood : 

love surely spied some Nimph whereas she lay, 

Shrouding hir self from heat of sowmiers day. 3C0 

No mortall wight, no man, had euer power, 

That such a mirhour from his loynes should springe ; 

'Twas Jove hira-selfe that through the tiles did shower, 

'Twas Joue that mounted with the Egles winge, 

'Twas Joue that for Europa crossed the seas, 

'Twas Joue that like a Swanne did Eeda please. 336 

Then lett me speake what I in hart conceaue. 

That Joue his father was, not any other ; 

Why might not JOYE, that did so ofte deceiue [if. i82bk.] 

So many Queenes, also deceaue his mother ? 

Nor is it any shame at all, but rather 

A grace to one haue a God ones father, 342 

Ilis haiuhome Fo)-in. 227 

And if the ofspringe of the Gods may die, 

And that their threed is by the sisters spunne, 

Then sure I thinke (if none thiiike so but I) 

Some God his father is, he some Gods sonne. 

No sparke of earthly mould in hira is seene. 

And such a Ghost as hee heere hath not bin. 348 

But Looke j^ou yonder, I need say no more. 

See yonder where he comes, with what a grace ! 

Pluto, I thinke, ne're saw such Ghosts before, 

Or seldorae saw his like \vit//'ni this place. 

But marke his stature well, he is so talV 

That by the head in height he exceeds them atl, 354 

Behould his foote, his legge, his comely knee, 

Behould the round proportion of his thighe ; 

Behould his wast, vouchsafe his breast to see ; 

Behould his necke, his cheeke, his burning eye ; 

Behould his mouth, his head, and ait the rest : 

Each member striues which shall become him best. ?,m 

Men speakc of Hector, of Achilles stoute ; 

Oft haue I heard of Alexanders name ; 

Of Ajax, Pyrrhus, all the Gretian route ; 

Of Scipio, Pompey, and of Ceasars fame : 

Yet that this one is dead, it greeues me more. 

Then all the rest, whome I haue nam'd before. 366 

It greiues my hart to see him in this place, 

Because by right he should haue never dyed ; 

And yet it Joyes me more to see his face 

Then 't doth the Bridgrome to behould his Bride : [k- ,83] 

One while it grieves me, then it maks me glad ; 

One while I ioyfull am, one while more sadd. 372 

My Soule is sad euen for their sakes aboue, 

For them that haue so great a cause to plaj'ne, 

For them t/iat Hue, and him so dearely loue, 

For them tliat do so great a losse sustayne : 

ludge thou if they haue cause to mourne or noe ; 

ludge thou, great Pluto, if it be not so. 378 

1 MS. tf>/e. 

228 Plato s Speech. 

So spake the Ghost, when Pluto thus began, 

I know right well, and maike what thou hast spoke ; 

Nor hast thou lyed, for why, I know the man 

Whose death so many doth to teares provoke ; 

And, by my Crowne, my selfe can hardly keepe 

Myne eyes from teares, but that they ned<'5 wilt weepe. 384 

And I could weepe, if teares did not beseeme 

A womans face, and not a manly spright ; 

A womans teares men comonly esteeme 

As ignis fatuus in a darkesome night : 

Therfore, because mj'ne eyes are teares forbidden, 

My hart shaft shead his teares that there lye hidden. 390 

My hart foregaue me soone as ere I heard, 

Thy tongue but ginne so hard a tale to tell ; 

And, by my scepter. How I Avas aftraid. 

Least some vnhappie chaunce there had befell. 

Yet could I not suppose the end of it, 

That hee was dead, that should not haue dyed yet. 396 

Well, then, dispatch, make hast, and quickly runne, 

You know the place wheras the sisters keepe, 

Tett them from me thai I wilt haue them come, 

They that haue caus'd so many eyes to weepe : 

Goe fetch those haggs : why flyest thou not ? be breife. ^"- "*^ ^^-^ 

Although their sight wilt nought decrease my greife. 402 

They that haue made so manie weeping eyes, 

Such heauie harts for his vntimely death, 

For him whose corps on earth intombed Ij'es, 

Whose soule w/th vs remaineth here beneath, 

For him whose soule and body death could seuer, 

For him whose body dyed, whose soule lines euer. 408 

And shall they laughe when others nought but weepe ? 

And shall they sing when others nought but crye ? 

When others wake, shall they securely sleepe ? 

And shall they 13'ue when as their betters dye ? 

As I am Pluto, I wilt make them know. 

What 'tis for them to make their frcind their foe. 414 

Ciolho, hold up th,j Head! 229 

As I am Pluto, and as Pluto Hues, 

As Pluto Hues, and hath power to coiumantl, 

As he hath power to punish him fluit striues, 

Against his sacrede will it to withstand, 

So shall the flites soone see what Pluto can, 

What Pluto wilt do for so worthy a man. 420 

Come, cursed Haggs. Clotho, hould vp thy head ; 

Looke not a-squint, it will not serue thy turne : 

Thou doest not heare the prayers for the dead, 

Thou doest not see the teares of them thai mourne, 

Thou doest not heare the sighes of them thai plaine. 

For him whom thou, vile Ilagg, of late hast slayne. 426 

Is this the threed thou spunst, that should haue bin 

A threed that should from East to "West haue runne — 

A threed the like wherof was neuer seene — 

A threed the like wherof was neuer spunne ? 

Did I not charge thee that this threed should bee 

No common one, but one as muche as three ? Lif. isi.] 432 

And Lachesis striue not to hide thie head ; 

Thou hidest thie head, but canst not hide thie shame. 

Thy sister ^ and thou drewst out the thred, 

"Which of you two deserves the greater blame ? 

Come, cursed hag, thie face thie fact bewrayes. 

And thou that guilty art, thie guilty conscience sayes. 438 

Is this that threed I charg'd thee draw in lenght. 
That Nestors threed should not be halfe so longe ? 
Is this that threed I said should haue the strenght, 
That Hector's threed should not be halfe so stronge P^ 
And is this thread, this stronge threed, drawen so weake. 
That one poore little pull could make it breake ? 44 i 

Didst thou but heare the bitter plaints menu make 

For losse of him whos threed to weake was spunne, 

The heavy grones and outcries for his sake. 

That should haue had a longer course to runne. 

No, no, thou doest not heare the sighes they breath 

ffor him whom thou, vile hag, hast done to death. 450 

1 Blank in MS. "^ JIS. Ioinjc. 

230 Every Sense asleep. 

My eyes are wearied w/th continuait cries, 

Aud often prayers w///cli they day lie make. 

One sayes he will a fat lame saeritice, 

One sayes he'le give a yong kid for his sake : 

Thus euery one doth promise lesse or more, 

If I would heare them, and their deere restore. 456 

that I could ! but now it is to late : 

This threed is cutt that should haue lasted longe. 

This threed is cutt by thee, thou cursed fate ; 

Thou didst mistake the threed, thou didst him wrongo. 

See, Atropos, see hou thou didst mistake ; 

Thou didst him wrong, amendes thou canst not make. 4G2 

1 knowe not if thou didst mistake or not ; [ir. isibu] 
This threed, thou seest, hath not the lenght I bad : 

Or }'f thou didst of purpose Crosse me soe. 

This threed hath not the strenght thai should haue had. 

Hold vp thie head, thou witch ; speake, answere me, 

Thie fault is ne're the lesse, how so ere it be. 4G8 

And, by myne honour, were it not for shame. 

And that I thinke the godcs would be displeas'd. 

Your wheele, your spindle, and yo^^r cursed frame, 

Soone should be burnt, and ye soone should be eas'd, 

Nor should m}" court. But that He beare in minde, 

Tift, for revenge, a fitter place I finde. 474 

So Pluto spake, mee thought,' and more then this, 

Much more then I in minde could safely keepe, 

Nor beare away. My head so troubled is, 

That euery sence seemes, as it were, a-sleepe : 

My head so troubled is w/th greefe and care. 

That all my sences, as no sences are. 480 

My weeping eyes cannot discerne aright, 

Dim'd w/th those teares that fell as fast as raine ; 

Excesse of teares hath cleane obscured their light. 

That blacke seemes white, and white seemes blacke againe. 

Blacke seemes the swanne, white seemes the blacker crowe ; 

Thus blacke frome white, m}' poore eyes scarcelie knowe. 486 

1 MS. thoHijh. 

Fedinrj quite gone. 231 

And when I lieare poore Philomela's songe, 

Her mornfull songe, when she bewayles her fate, 

Her wofutt tunes in token of the wrong 

W///ch wicked Tereus offred hir of late, 

Her sweetest songe seemes but the screeching Cries 

Of some vnlucky Owle by night that flies. 492 

And when I smell the sweetest Gilliflower, 

The faire Carnacian, and the lovely rose. 

The sweetest odour seemes to me most sowre, [if. iss.] 

The sweetest smelt dotli make me stop my nose ; 

The stinckinge Carrion seemes to me to s;;?eit 

More sweet then doth the sweetest dafiadiii. 498 

And when I tast, my tast so altred is. 

That gall seemes hony, hony gall auone ; 

And 3-f by Chaunce, my ladies lippes I kisse 

Their tast to me seemes as I kiss'd a stone ; 

Yea Mopsaes lipps seeme to my tast as sweet, 

As yf Pamelas lipps and rayne should meet. 504 

And when I feele, my feeling quite is gone, 

That soft seemes hard, and heavy streight seemes light ; 

Soft, hard, light, heavy, is to me all one : 

No sence I haue that can discerne aright. 

I see, I heare, I tast, I feele, I smelt, 

And yett no sence I haue that ludgeth wett. 510 

Alas ! what shall I say ? or who is neare 

To whome I may my wofutt case complaine ? 

Lives any one tliai will w/th equall care 

Behold my greef and pittie me my pa3"ne ? 

no, ther's none, ther's none thai lives, I knowe. 

That once will pitty me, sith I am so lowe. 516 

But though that mortall men will neuer deeme 

To see my teares, and heare the plaintfs I make, 

Yett will the godes, I hope, my teares esteeme, 

Esteeme my teares and deepe sighs for his sake, 

For his sweet sake, whose death so deere we see 

That thousand^.s rather mig-ht haue dvcd then he. 522 

232 My Rose U plucked. 

But if there bee one rose amonge the rest,^ 

That shewes aboue the rest his ruby head, 

One tree that shewes aloft his lofty crest, 

Soone are they blasted, soonest are they dead. 

The fairest flower, the rose, is pluckt anone, [if. issbk.] 

Whereas the stinckinge weed is lett alone. 528 

MY HOSE is pluckt, my CEDAR hanges his head, 
Of my sweete flowre nought but the stalke remaynes. 
My loy is quickly gon, my deare is dead. 
Oh ! how I heare how all the earth coraplaynes ! 
Oh ! that my death might haue suffis'd for thyne ! 
Thy life was life to me, thy death is myne ! 634 

If euery member of my body were 

A Body by it selfe substantial! : 

Had I ten Hues I should not count them deare, 

So they from death to life my deare might call. 

Could my life saue but one haire of thy head, 

Thou doest not know how soone I could be dead. 540 

And should I not vouchsafe to dye for thee. 

Who whilst thou liued'st didst suffer so much wronge ? 

The wronge thou hadst it did pertayne to mee. 

The bodyes payne runnes all the part/^s among ; 

Each member greeues when as the whole is troubled : 

Though what one feeles is in the whole twise doubled. 546 

What wronge thou hadst the earth may ludge full well ; 

Though what thou didst deserue each man may gesse : 

Great is the wrongs, the w/^/ch no tongue can tett ; 

Great is the wronges, which no pen can expresse. 

In grateful! soyle ! for what shall vertue serue, 

If this be their reward that best deserue ? 552 

What was the cause why worthy Scipio did 
Forbid vngratefull Rome his boanes should haue ? 
The same that miaht haue caus'd the to forbid 

1 In the ^IS. this line was rc-\vritten at the (.ud of the stanza by mistake in 
bcainnino- a new one. 

The Lan- of O.sf racism. 233 

That this ingratefiill land should be thy graue. uf.uc] 

Thy bones, with Scipioes, might haue found a place, 

A place more thankfull then our Ingland was. 558 

But thou art dead, and thou hast left us thus : 

I would thou wert not dead, or that I could 

Steale fj^re from heauen with Prometheus, 

And make one like to thee of earthly mould. 

Thy like ? That cannot be of earthly creatures, 

Are faynt, effeminate, and tender natures. 564 

Or that I knew where good Sybilla keepes, 

She should conducte me to the golden bowe ; ^ 

"With her I would into th' infernall deepes, 

And passing Styx, vnto the ghosts belowe. 

There in ELISIUM would I spend the night, 

In happy talking with my havtes delight. 570 

But let me see the cause wherfore my deare 

Was thus exiled from his soueraignes gate. 

"VVe haue a Lawe cal'd Ostrocismus here, 

A certayne Lawe the Athenians vs'd of late. 

My Lord was by this lawe exiled I fj'nd : 

The good must packe, the bad must sta}^ behj-nd. 576 

For this was Aristides forc'd to leaue 

His natiue soyle, the place where he was borne ; 

This Lawe of Ostrocisme did him deceaue ; 

It makes some laugh, but many moe to mourne : 

This Law of Ostrocisme by force doth make 

My Lord this Land, and all his freendes forsake. 582 

Well, then, sith Ceasar doth example giue, 

Syth he 's fled from vs, from our selues wee'l fly ; 

Then let vs dye, and not desyre to Hue, 

And let vs Hue, and yet desyre to dj'e. 

Lett's dye, lett's Hue ; to dye or Hue be loth : "^- ^°«'"^^ 

Let neither please vs, yet desyre them both. 588 

' bough. See Virgil, vi. 204 : 

" Discolor unde auri per ramos aura rcfulsit." 

234 I find notldng hut Shadoics. 

Now hee is gon, why should I sta}'' behynd ? 

Why should I wander on this earth alone ? 

Nothing but shaddowes heare beneath I fynd : 

I often talke, yet talke but to a stone ; 

And when I seeme far off a man to see, 

Alas ! alas ! it is a silly tree. 594 

And as I walkt alonge, my selfe and I 

I spyed a man farr of vpon a playno ; 

He stoode stone still, till I had passed b}''. 

I spoke to him ; hee answered not agayne, 

Yet bowed his head : alas ! the wind did blow, 

And made him stoope, and bend his head full lowe. 600 

^Yliy do I stay, sith that my deare is gone ? 

Hee rests aboue ; why do I stay belowe ? 

Why should I wander on this earth alone ? 

ffayne would I dye, and yet I know not how. 

Earth, swallow me, or ells permitt some tree 

May fall vpon my head and raurther mee ! 606 

I dye, yet line, I dye a lingring life, 

I line, yet dye, I Hue a lingring death ; 

Botlie life and death are w/th theraselues at strife ; 

My sence is gone, and yet I draw my breath. 

Fye, death ! fye, fye, how long shall life withstand ? 

How long shaft feeble life resist thy mightie hand? 612 

fatall howre when first I was begott, 

yet farr more fatall was myne howre of birth, 

Most fatall howre when as it was my lott 

To see earths hope so soone departe the earth. 

My life forespent, a life I cannot call ; 

Come quickly, death, and make amends for all. [if. is?,] 618 

Heere will I sitt, and neuer hence depart. 
This broad leau'd beech shall bee my canapie. 

1 will not hence till death hath throwne his darte, 
Then shall I Tryumph in my victorie. 

Heere sitt I downe, let me not rise agayne. 

Then heare me, death, and ease me of my payne. 624 

Viator mid Mfiui/cas. 235 

Viator. — God speede, my freend, why sittst thou heere so 
sadd ? 

Thy lookes bewj-aye a discontented mynd. 
Menalcas. — Indeed, my freend, more cause I neuer had, 

I seeke for that wliich in no place I fynd. 
Yiat. — Why, what? if I so much may freely crauo. 
Mena. — Nay, nought but that which I alreadie haue. 630 

Yiat. — Why seekest thou that of which thou art possest, 
And yet to fynd thou makest so much adoe ? 

Mena. — I seeke it farre, though heere I sitt and rest, 
I haue it not, and yet I haue it to. 

Yiat. — And hauinge it, why doest thou seeke it more ? 

Mena. — For more I want it then I did before. C36 

Yiat. — How canst thou want the thing that now thou hast ? 

Thou hast it not, and yet thou hast it to. 
Mena. — I haue it now, but cannot hould it fast, 

I hauing, haue it not, and want it so. 
Yiat. — Thou hast, hast not. I pray thee tell mee plaine. 
Mena. — I haue not now, and now I haue againe. 642 

Yiat. — I pra}' thee, man, deale plainly with thy freend. 

Why sitst thou heere ? why doest thou weepe so sore ? 
Mena. — Still must I weepe, my teares must have no end ; 

Here must I sitt, and I must rise no more. 
Yiat. — Xo more ? Alas ! wdiat art thou ? let mee know. 
Mena. — Attend a while ; that I shall quickly shew. 648 

Whilome I was, till fortune cross'd my ftite, [if. i87bk.] 

A shejDheard happye for ray fruit full flocke ; 

And on those playnes pipinge I dayly sate ; 

I fed my sheepe, and they increas'd my stocke ; 

Heere had I tyme to tune my oaten reede, 

Whilst my poore flocke did round about me feede. 654 

I knowe there dwells no shephard on this coast, 

AYhose flocke did yeeld him more encrease then myne ; 

There was no one that had more cause to boast. 

Till fortune turnde her wheele, and ganne declyne : 

My Ewes came euery day twise to the payle. 

But now scarce once, I know not what tlicy ayle. 660 

236 The SliepJtenJ\ La incut. 

Vnless they sight, because I nought but weepe, 

And will not feede, because I cannot eate. 

Alas ! poore soules ! alas ! poo re silly e sheepe ! 

Why do you for my sake forsake jour meate ? 

Feede on, my lambes ; feede on, my tender kidds ; 

Spare not to eate ; spare not, your master bidds. GG6 

Let not the cause that keepes myne eyes from sleepe 

Cause you refraine your foode thus euery day, 

Let not the cause that makes my hart to weepe 

Cause you, alas ! thus causles pyne away. 

Then cease to sight, poore sheepe ! ye do me wrong ; 

Myne onely is the greife, to me it doth belong. 672 

Oh, how I lou'd my flocke ! what care I tooke ! 

I loue it still, yet once I lou'd it more. 

Both loue and hope made mee more nearely looke ; 

I loue it still, though not as earst before. 

I lou'd my flock, although it was but smale, 

Yet one poore one I loued best of atl. G78 

The leader of my heard, for him I weepe ; 

My selfe haue lost my hope, my flocke their guide : [ir. iss.i 

My hope is gone, the stay of all my sheepe ; 

So hee had liued, would all the rest had dyed ! 

Hee kept the rauenous wolfe and fox away ; 

And whilst he lined, my flock did ne're decay. 684 

Now hee is gon, the wolfe is waxen bould, 

The Fox doth dare molest my tender lambes, 

And fetch my kiddes out of the very fould. 

And steale my simple sheepe out of my hands. 

The wolfe and fox (thee dead) now dare do more, 

They dare doe that they durst not doe before. 690 

Poore shepheard I, how my poore sheepe do stray ! 

And wander vp and downe they know not whither. 

Alas ! they know not in what place to stay, 

Nor where to shrowd themselues from winters weather. 

The wind, the rayne, snow, hayle, and every showre. 

To kill my Kidds, and tender Lambes haue powre. 696 

Poor Mena/cas. 237 

Alas ! ray hope, my deare, my onely ioye ! 

0, ESSEX ! ESSEX ! whither art thou gon ? 

And what about shall I my witts employe, 

To wayle thy death, thy absence to bemone ? 

Heare must I sitt and still bewa3de thy death, 

Whilst poore Menalcas Hues and drawes his breath. 702 

Yiat. — What doest thou mumble thus? speake, speake it 

Reueale thy greife, and so thou mayst fynd ease : 
To keepe it in doth more augment thy payne ; 
To make it knowne doth it in pr/rt apease. 
Reueale thy greife, impart me halfe thy care, 
Bee rul'd by me, and let me beare my share. 708 

To men may with more ease a burthen beare, 

Two riuers do receue more store of rayne. 

Two oxen w/th more ease the ground do reare. 

Two Barnes do receiue more store of graine: Df.issbk.i 

Then let two beare which is to much for one, 

And let vs greeue alike, or both, or none. 714 

Mena, — Why should I doubt my seacrets to reveale ? 

Why should 1 hyd them from so true a freend ? 

Why should I to my selfe my greifes conceale ? 

AYhy should I not bewray what I intend ? 

My paynes are ripe, my teares not farre behynde. 

Yet stitl more cause of greife and teares I fynde. 720 

Longe haue I wept, longe haue my watry eyes 

Stream'd forth there sea-salt teares adowne my face. 

Long haue I mourn'd, the woodes haue heard my cryes. 

The trees haue seen my teares that flow'd apace. 

The woodes and trees shall with me wittnes beare. 

They heard mee weepe when all refused to heare. 726 

They sawe me weepe, they saw me bownde to dj^e ; 

See in there barkes, see where my plaints are carued ; 

They heard mee nought but ESSEX ! ESSEX ! crye, 

And weepe for him that best my teares deserued : 

I wept for him, for him my teares I spend, 

ffor him stilt must I weepe, my teares must haue no end. 732 

238 i:ssex Lives. 

Yiat. — What meanst thou, man ? why doest thou ESSEX 

• name ? 

Or why is ESSEX wholly in thy mouth ? 
Mena. — Because hee was a man of mickle fame, 

Whose like hath neuer liued in all the south. 
Yiat. — Because hee was : why doest thou say because ? 

As though he is not now, as ere before he was. 738 

What though hee Hues a prisoner for a tyme ! 

What though his body they in prison pen'd ! 

The name of prisoner nought augments? his cryme : 

The bones obej^ the mynd witt neuer bend ; 

Nor doth this dimme at aft, or clipse his fame, 

But soone shall adde more honoure to his name. [if. isg.] 744 

Looke how the sonne, when first he shewes his face 

Out of a Misty Cloude, doth shine most cleare : 

So likewise, after this supposd disgrace. 

The name of ESSEX greater shall apeare. 

A flaming fyre is farthest seene by night. 

In clowdy tymes shaft vertue shine most bright. 750 

Because hee was ? thou doest him double wronge, 

As though his worthy fame were ought decayd, 

He yet surviues, (oul shall, I hope, liue Longe 

To helpe his freend^s, and make his foes afraid. 

He yet suruiues, he lines, his name doth liue. 

Whose life doth life to many thousand^'s giue. 756 

Mena. — What doth Menalcas heare ? Alas ! hee dreames ! 

His eares but flatter him, hee is deceaued ; 

His eyes are dimmed, gazeing on Titan's beames ; 

Each obiect hath eche sence of sence bereaued. 

And can he liue ? Oh, no ! it cannot bee ! 

And could hee dye ? Dead, dead, alas ! is hee. 762 

Viat. — What sayest thou, man ? whome doest thou meane is 

dead ? 
Knowe this, that ESSEX lines ; how could hee dye ? 
Each member dyes when they haue lost their head. 
Had hee bin dead, I should not now bin I. 
He lines, I liue, his life is life to mee. 
Had hee bin dead, dead should I also bee. 768 

He eiijoi/s the Common Air. 239 

Mena. — Alas ! let not vaine hope my hart beguile, 

Thou flatterest mee ; how shall I trust myne eyes ? 

Let not vayne hope reuiue me for a while, 

But let me end my wreatched dayes w/th teares. 

If ESSEX Hue, tell true, Oh ! then, Hue I ! 

If he be dead. Oh, then, alas ! I dye ! 774 

[If. I89bk.] 

Viat. — AVhy should I iest ? Hee Hues, by heauen I sweare, 

Nor do I flatter thee, but tell thee troth ; 

Then blest art thou, thou needst no longer feare, 

And blest am I, so are wee happy boath : 

Then sith suche happie newes Meualcas heares. 

Cease now to weepe, at lenght abstayne from teares. 780 

Mena. — Heauens ! Earth ! O all ye powers diuine ! 

Great JOVE ! what sacrifice shall please thy mynde ? 

What shall I ofier at thy Holy shryne ? 

A Kydd ? A Lambe ? or ells a tender Hinde ? 

Great JOVE ! and hast thou heard my wofuft prayer ? 

And doth my deare enioy the common Ayer ? 786 

Now is the tyme that I could wish to dye, 

Sith that my deare doth yet aliue remayne. 

I neede not weepe, I need no longer crye. 

Why haue I wepte ? giue me my teares agayne. 

Could teares doe this, I haue moe teares in store, 

Then keepe them still, I will not haue them more. 792 


s 2 


a Poem mane on fte OBarle of Csser (being in 
oisarace toitf) Ciueene (JBli^) : b^ m^ tentp 
Cuffe bis ^ecretarp.' 

Concerning Henry CujBfe, who was executecP with Sir Gilly 
Merrick on March 13, IGOI, less than a month after Essex 
himself, we have the following curious details from Wotton's 
Life, which I quote from the Beliquim Woitonianoi (London, 
1651) : "And whereas he (Wotton) was noted in his youth 
to have a sharp wit, and apt to jest; that, by time, travel!, 
and conversation, was so polish'd and made usefull, that his 
company seem'd to he one of the delights of mankind. In 
so much, as Eobert Earl of Essex (then one of the darlings 
of fortune and in greatest favour with Queen Elizabeth) 
invited him first into a friendship, and after a knowledg 
of his great abilities to be one of his Secretaries ; the other 
being Master Henry Cuffe, sometimes of Merton Colledg in 
Oxford, and there the acquaintance of Sir Henry Wotton 
in his youth ; Master Cuffe being then a man of no common 
note in the University for his learning, nor after his removall 
from thence for the great abilities of his mind, nor, indeed, for 
the fatalness of his end." We have also the following further 

1 Another copy of this poem, in Add. MS. 5495, fol. 28 bk., has this title : 
" These verses were pend by Robert late Earle of Essex in his first discontent- 
ment in \^ moneths of July and August." Variations in this copy given in the 
footnotes are referred to as B. Another copy is in Douce MS. 280, fol. 123, but 
the variations are in most instances confined to ridiculous blunders. There are 
two other copies, one in Sloane MS. 1303, fol. 71, the other in Add. MS. 15,891, 
fol. 244 bk., the chief variations of which are given in the footnotes. See also 
Harl. MS. 4910, fol. 167. 

* In the Tanner MS. 76, fol. 98, we have a copy of Henry Cuffe's speech at 
his execution at Tyburn, March 13th, 160^. It consists of a series of curious 
quibbles in the antithetical style of the period. 

"Mr. Cuff's Speech at his Execution at Tiburn. 

"I am adjudged to Death for plotting a' plott never acted; and for acting an 
Act, never by me plotted. The Law will have its course. Accusers shall be 
heard; Greatness must have the victory; Scholar & Martialist (whose Valor & 
Learning in Engld shd have priviledged, yet) in Engld must die like Dogs & be 
hanged. To dislike this is but Folly ; to gainsay it is but Time lost ; to avoid 
it impossible: But to endure it manly: & to scorn it magnanimity. The Prince 
is displeased ; y® Law injurious ; y^ Lawyers uncharitable ; & Death terrible. 
But I ask pardon of y® prince, forgive y® Lawyer ; beseech y® world to pardon 
me ; & welcome Death." 

To this is appended the following allusion : " A strange prediction of his un- 
fortunate end made by a "Wizzard whom he consulted, 20 years before it happened." 

Cuffe and Wotton. 241 

account of tliis unhappy man, about wliora, whether he was 
instigator or dupe of tlie plot of Essex, thei'e does not seem to 
be any trustworthy account. " There was among his nearest 
attendants one Henry Cuffe, a man of secret ambitious ends of 
his own, and of proportionate counsells smothered under the 
habit of a SchoUer, and slubbered over with a certain rude and 
clownish fashion, that had the semblance of integrity. This 
Person,^ not above five or six weeks before my Lords fatall 
irruption into the City, was by the Earl's special command 
suddainly discharged from all further attendance, or accesse unto 
him, out of an inward disj^leasure then taken against his sharp 
and importune infusions, and out of a glimmering oversight, that 
he would prove the very instrument of his Ruine. 

" I must add hereunto, that about the same time my Lord 
had received from the Countesse of Warwick (a Lady powerfull 
in the Court), and indeed a vertuous user of her power, the 
best advice that I think was ever given from either sex ; That 
when he was free from restraint, he should closely take any 
out-lodging at Greenwich, and sometimes when the Queen went 
abroad in a good humour (wherof she would give him notice), he 
should come forth, and humble himselfe before Her in the field. 
The Counsell sunk much into him, and for some days bee 
resolved it : but in the mean time, through the intercession of 
the Earl of Southampton, whom Cufie had gained, he was 
restored to my Lord's ear. and so working advantage uj)on his 
disgraces, and upon the vain foundation of vulgar breath, which 
hurts many good men, spun out the finall destruction of his 
Master and himselfe, and almost of his restorer, if his pardon 
had not been won by inches." — The Parallel, p. 31. 

[Had. MS. 6947 (art. 32), If. 230.] 

1. It was a time when sillie Bees could speake, 
and in that tyme I was a sillie Bee, 
who suckt on tyme, vntill my heart gan^ breake, 
yet neuer found that tyme would favour me. 
Of all the swarme, I onlie could not thrive, 
yet brought I wax, and hony to the hive. 

' It is curious to note how "Wotton, with the characteristic prudence which 
had apparently served him well in many important passages of his life, speaks in 
an off-hand and depreciatory way of a man who had at one time been his college 
Mend, and seems at a later period (while both were in the service of Essex) to 
have been in verv close relation with him. 

2 Sloane and Add. MSS, did. 

242 Thou art horn to serve the Time. 

2. Then thus I bussed when tyme no sap would give, 

why is this blessed tyme to me soe dere?^ 
sith in this tyme, the lazie drone ^ doth live, 

the waspe, the worme, the gnat, the Butterfly, 
mated ^ w/th greefe, I kneeled on my knees, 
and thus complained, vnto the kinge of Bees. 

3. "My leige, god graunte thy tyme may haue no* end, 

and yet voutsat'e to heare my plainte of tyme, 
which, euery fruitles'^ fly hath found a freind, 
and I cast downe, while Attomyes doe Clime." ^ 
The kinge replies but thus, " peace, peevish''' Bee, 
Th' art borne to serue the tyme, the tyme not thee." 

4. "The tyme not thee," — this word clipt^ short my winges, 

and made me, wormelike, creepe^ that once did flie. 
Awefull regard, disputeth not with kinges, [if. 230bk.] 

receaveth a repulse, not askinge whie :^^ 

Then from that tyme, I for a tyme^^ withdrew. 
To feede^^ on Henbaine, Hemlock, Nettls, Rue. 

5. But from those leaves noe dram of sweet I draine, 

theire'^ headstrong fury^* did my wittes bewitch. 
The iuce disperste blacke bloud in euery vaine, 

for hony gall, for wax I gathered Pitch : 
my Combe a E,ift, My Hive a leafe must be, 
Soe Changd that Bees scarce tooke me for a Bee.'^ 

6. I worke on weedes, when moone is in the waine, 

whilst all the swarme, in suneshine tast the E,ose ; 
On blacke roote^^ fearne, I sitt^^ and sucke my baine, 

whilst on the Eglentine, the rest repose : 

Hauinge too much, they still repine for more, 
And cloide w/th fulnes,'^ surfit on the store. 

1 SI. and Add. drye. ^ b. 07ies doe for "drone doth." ^ SI. In a tyme. 

* Add. never for " haue no." 

* SI. whom euert/ fearelesse for " which euery fruitles." 

^ The reader -will be reminded of Shakespere's line, " Drawn with a team of 
little atomies." — Romeo and Juliet, act i. scene iv. 

' ^l.foolishe, ^ SI. ciitt. 5 B. stoope for "creepe." 

^0 Add. Eeceives Eepulse, dares aske no Iteason why. 

^' Add. a time I me for "I for a tyme." •^ B. such for "feede." ^•' SI. my. 
1^ ^Lfortime. '^ ^.M. and Ilarl. 6910 omit this verse. 

^^ Douce MS. wort-fearne.- ^^ ^\.Jerne loe I secke for "root fearne I sitt." 

'" SI. sweet enesse. 

The Caterpillars. 243 

7. Swolne fatt w/th feastes, full merelie they passe, 

in sweetned^ Clustres they^ fallinge from the Tree, 
Where findinge me to nibble on the grasse, 

some scorne, some muse, and some doe pittie me : 
And some^ env}' and whisper to the kinge, 
Some must be still, and some must haue no sting.* 

8. Are Bees waxt waspes or spiders to infecte ?^ 

doe hony bowelles make the sperit galle ? [if. 23i.] 

Is this the ioyce'' of flowers to stirr"^ suspecte? 

1st not enough to treade on them that fall ? 

What stinge hath patience, but a sigheing greefe, 
That stinges naught but it-selfe w/thout Releife ? 

9. True patience the^ provender of fooles. 

Sad patience that waiteth at^ the dore, 
Patience that learnes, thus to conclude in schooles, 

Patience ^^ I am, therefore I must be poore : 

Greate kinge of Bees, that rightest euery wronge, 
Listen to Patience in her dyinge songe. 

10, I Cannot feed on Fennell,^^ like some flies, 

nor fly to euery flower to gather gaine ; 
myne appetite weites on my princes eies 

Contented w?th Contempte, and pleasd wrth Paine ; 
And yet^^ expectinge of '^ an happie hower, 
When he^^ shall sale, this Bee shall suck a flower. 

11. Of all the greefes that moves my patience great, 

there is one that fretteth in the highest degree, 
To see some Caterpillers bred vp^-^ of late,^'' 

Croppinge the fruite'"'' that should sustaine the Bee : 
yet smiled I, for that the wisest knowes. 
That mothes doe fret^^ the cloth, Cankers the Pose. 

' B. sweetest for " sweetned." 

2 SI. sivwrmes and clusters for "sweetned clustres they." Add. swdtned clusters 
falling on a tree. ^ SI. some me for " some." 

* DoMCQ 'M.^. nothinge. ^ Add. (r^ici for "infecte." ^ &\. juice. 

' B. stale for "stirr." * SI. is fit for "the." 

^ SI. watcheth still and heepes for "that waiteth at." 

'" B. Patient for "Patience." 'i SI. Hemlocke. ^- B. ttjme for "yet." 

'■' SI. J 5^t7/ ('.J7;(Ti! for "expectinge of." Add. .s7«/i for "of." '^ ^\. shee. 

15 SI. bird bredd for " bred vp." Add. and Ilarl. 6910 omit " vp." 
"^ Referring probably to Ealeigh or Cecil. '" SI. and XM.fouer. 

"* Douce and SI. will rate. Add. i/ic month the Cloth, the canker catcs the Rose. 

244 Witching Tobacco. 

12. Once did I see by flylnge in the feeild [if. 231 bk.] 
Fowle beastes to browse vpon the Lylly faire ; 

vertne and bewtie could no succour j'eild, 
Als prouender for asses, but the aire : 

The partiall world of this takes litle heede, 

To give them flowers that should on Thistles feede. 

13. Tis onlie I must draine Egiptian flowers/ 

Having noe savor, bitter sapp they haue, 
And seeke out'^ rotten tombes, and^ dead men's bowers, 

And'* bite on Pathos^ growinge by the grave : 
yf this I cannot haue, as haples Bee, 
witching Tobacco, I will flie to thee ! 

14. What thoughe thou die mens longest in deepest blacke,''' 

A morniuge habit suites a sable hart ! 
"What thoughe thy fumes ^ sound memorie doe Crack,^ 
Forgetfulnes is fittest for my smarte ! 

vertuous fvme,^° let it be carved in oke. 

That wordes, hopes, wittes, and all the world is smoke ! 

15. Five yeares^^ twise told, w/tli promises perfumed,^^ 

my hope-stuft^^ head was Cast in to a slumber; 
Sweete dreames of gold, on drearaes I then presumd, 
And mongst the Bees thoughe'^ T were in the Nomber. 
wakinge I founde Hive,^^ ^"^hopes, had made me vaine, 
twas not Tobacco stupified the braine.^"^ 


^ The author -was thinking of Pliny, whose " Natural History," is the great 
authority for many of the curious beliefs of our ancestors. See bk. xxi. chap. 40, 
"Nam et ift ^gypto sine odore hsec omnia." 

2 Add. the. ^ Add. the. 

* Add. to. * B. Pottlios. Add. wormewood. Harl. 6910 nightshade. 

* SI. my limges for " mens longes." ' Add. omits the two last stanzas. 

* B. />-_y«rfs for " fumes." ^ B. ^acA- for "crack." '° B./fwe for "fume." 
" SI. tymes. '^ SI. promise unperformed. 

13 SI. hopes iust for " hope-stuft." " B. thought for "thoughe." 

15 B. how for " hive." '® SI. inserts btd. 

" Tobacco must have been a great novelty in England at this time. " Sir 
"Walter Ealeigh was the first that brought tobacco into England and into fashion. 
. . . They had first silver pipes. The ordinary sort made use of a walnut- 
shell and a straw. I have heard my grandfather Lyte say, that one pipe was 
handed from man to man round the table. Sir W. R. standing in a stand at 
Sir Ro. Poyntz's park, at Acton, took a pipe of tobacco, which made the ladies 
quit it till he had doue." — Aubrey. 


[Tanner MS. 306, fol. 192r.] 

(2Blegp on fte aB[arl] of €0,ser. 

Concerning the authorship of this poem I am unable to furuish 
any information. 

England, now lament in teares ; 

in teares lament the dismall fall 

of an heroick english peere, 

as enev liu'd or eua- shall, 

whose soule so sweet doth rest on high, 

to Hue With ehrist eternally. 6 

His neuf'r dying fame remaines, 

although his bodies clad in Clay ; 

with, angels blest his soule it raines 

in Joyes that neuer shall decay : 

his vertuous life deserues to be 

carud out in oke for men to see. 12 

ffor by his hand oiiv clime got fame, 

by Essex helpe much gould we gaind,^ 

and by his force our foes were tamd, 

for in his hart trew valor raind : 

his hand, helpe, force, and vertuous hart, 

hath bred our weale, and causd our smart. 18 

fFor whilst he liud our weale was bread, 

so was his death o;^r cause of mone. 

by whom shall souldiers now be led, 

syth that theer Captaynes dead and gone ? 

With teares they do his dath deplore, 

but teares cannot his life restore. 24 

O Poetes all, leaue of to penne 

ffond trillinge toyes of Loues delight. 

And frame your wittes t' advaunce such men 

as Devorax, that worthy wight ! 

In polisht poemes sounde his prayse, 

To Crowne jour heades w/th lawrell bayes. 30 

' Alluding to the capture of the ships on the expedition to Cadiz and the 
Island voyage. For the abundance of the plunder see Lingard, vi. 275. 

246 The Victory at Cales. 

Learninge he healde in great regarde,^ 

Because therin none coulde him reache, 

And schollers paj^nes he would rewarde ; 

And such as did the gospell preache 

He reverenste still ; vnhappy we, 

That lost soe scone his companye ! 36 

A second Marce he was of myghte, 

Appolloes witt ador[n]ed his minde, 

Noe pen was able to recite 

The gistes'^ of god to him assynde ; 

But envye, that foule monstrous feynde, 

Hath broughte to death true vertues frynde. 42 

The Spaniarde prowde can well reporte 

The deeds of amies that he hath done ; 

So witnesse canne theyr battered forte ; 

And stately Cales ^ he manly wone, 

And in despight of Spanishe pride, 

Eyght dayes he did therin abide. 48 

To see of Philippe wo[uld] re[deeme] 

His conquered towne [with gold] of [Spayne], 

But when he saw his light esteeme, 

The towne on fyre he settes araayne ; 

But to his men strayght Charge he gave, 

That Mayds & Wiues noe hurte should have.* 64 

\Yherin his mercy macht his mighte, 

true Vertues giuen him from aboue, 

Rich natures giftes on him were dighte, 

Whiche drawe from men both feare & loue. 

A moses mild in towne was hee ; 

In feyld forre Samson deemed to be. 60 

Two stately shippes'^ he lickwise wone. 
And Englands armes on them advanced, 

1 With reference to his manner towards his dependents, Macaulay says that 
Essex " conducted himself with a delicacy such as has rarely been found in any 
other patron. Unlike the vulgar herd of benefactors, he desired to inspire, not 
gratitude, but affection. He tried to make those whom he befriended feel to- 
wards him as towards an equal." The Queen appears to have been irritated by 
the amount of sermonizing in favour of Essex, which was practised by zealous 
clergymen. ^ =gestes. 

3 Cadiz, frequently so called in old poetry. See the ballad in Percy's Reliques. 

* I have already alluded to the strict discipline maintained by Essex in his army. 

* Two of the largest, the St. Matthew and St. Andrew, with an argosy, were 
taken.— Lingard vi. 275. 

Bon Antonio. 247 

"W/«"ch Cesars actes, when lie had done, 

Into the deepe he forthw/th lancste ; 

Hoystinge vp sayles to Cutte the strearaes 

That shine agaynst the sunne bright beames. 66 

The fishes plaid in signe of Joy, 

and mermaids carrold songs of glee ; 

w/th wind the silken finds did toye ; 

and neptune ehargd his tritons three : 

for his returne the trumps to sound. 

With ekkoing noyse they did abound. 72 

His Cullers he hath spred in franco, 

in honor of ouv Royall queene ; 

where death hath sat vpon his lance, 

wher as in battaile he hath bin : 

the papish posts he sent to hell 

that did against their king rebell. 78 

Rebellious townes he taught to know 

allegance due vnto their king, 

as quene Rene,^ and other more, 

with to subiection he did bring : 

all franco admird this english gere 

& king therof held him full dere. 84 

when Don Anthonio was displaced 

by Spaniards from his princly throne, 

and being so b}^ them disgracd, 

to Englands queene, he made his mone. 

ten thousand men she him sent, 

among them, then, braue Essex went. 90 

when as at Lisborn he ariud, 
such haughty prowess he did show, 
when at their gate his feet he draue, 
which strook amasment to his foe : 

1 Alluding to the assistance sent by Elizabeth to Henry IV. " Eene " is 
probably llouen, which was invested by the Earl of Essex, assisted by some French 
troops, in 1591. Don Antonio was an illegitimate nephew of Henry, King of 
Portufjal, and a pretender to the throne. I'he expedition, commenced by Drake 
and Sir John Norris, and afterwards joined by Essex, was a failure. Sickness 
Avas very rife among the English : the Portuguese viewed the pretensions of Don 
Antonio with contempt, and the expedition returned to England with less than 
half of its original numbers. 

248 J^sscx at Lisbon. 

During tlie/>' prowess to proue in fight, 

Anthonio was their king by right. 96 

" [op] en y[our] gates, therefore," quoth he, 

" and entertaine with Joy your king, 

your fo[rm]er faults forgotten be ; 

from him I do yom pardon bring. 

o doe not then your King depose, 

that holds you deare and hates your foes." 102 

But at his words they sett but light, 

discharging shot at him amaine ; 

yet ner dismayed our english knight 

but valiantly did still remaine : 

drawing his poniard from his side, 

wheron a silken scarfe he tide. 108 

And on their gate he lefte the same, 

returning to his Company : 

w///ch deeds be eternized by fame 

for noble acts of Cheualry. 

Spaine, franco and portingall did feele 

his fauchions force of tempred Steele. 114 

As Phoebus brightnesse far exceeds 

ech twinkling star and Lunas light, 

so much and more did Essex deeds, 

beyond all other shine far bright ; 

what should I sale, god to him gaue 

all vertuous gifts that man might haue. 120 

when tilt and barriers force were scene, 

sweet Deuorax still great honor wonn ; 

for Courtiers weale and En glands queene, 

ther were no dangers he would shun : 

but dead he is, why should we mone ? 

O yes, bycause he died so soone ! 126 

Long since was Alexander kild, 

and haniball did feele like paine, 

Pompous, penis,^ both were spoyled, 

& scipio, Cirus, Cesar slaine : 

in vertu and valor thes had pr/rt, 

yet subiect vnto deaths black dart. 132 

1 ? Pyrrhus. 

Sis Death. 249 

W/Min the tower he lost his head, 

in view of many noble peres : 

wh/ch on there harts great sorrow bread, 

and from their eyes ran perles teares. 

on skaffould then ariued he, 

attird in black, w/th prelats three. 138 

Yayling his hat,^ the lords to greet, 

his velvet gowne he then layd by, 

and spake to [them] theise words so sweet : 

•' my frends that come to see me die, 

to god his glory I confesse, 

my sinnes, like sands, ar numberles. 144 

" yet papist haue I neu^r bin, 

and Athisme still I did disdaine ; 

I neu^r wrongd my Royall queene, 

but prayd to god for her long Eayne : 

and god with, shame confound them all, 

that seche to worke her graces fall ! " 150 

Then for the Counsell prayed he, 

and for the Clergy of the land, 

and for the pore comunalty, 

that long in peace their weale might stand ; 

then privatly his prayers he sayd, 

desiring god of heuenly ayd. 156 

Then headsman humbly on his knee, 

be[gged] for his death forgiuen to be ; 

"w/th all my hart I pardon thee, 

and welkome, frond, thin act to me ; 

& when thou seest me spread my handes, 

vnto the taske see that tliou standst." 162 

then w?th thes wordes his life had end, 

after on block his head was layd : 

" sweet Christ, from heuen thy angels send, 

my soule by them to be conveyd 

Vnto thy throune of maiesty, 

to Hue in blise eternally." 168 


' This description of the conduct of Essex at his execution cxiictly conospniuls 
with the account f^iven in the narratives of eye-witnesses, now for the first time 
published, ante, pp. 208-213. 


[Havl. MS. 6910, If. 151.] 

[Eobert OBarle of C^ser against ^^t COalter 

Here we have another lamentation over the malice of the enemies 
of Essex. The " Cuckoo " may be easily identified, and is surely 
an allusion to Ealeigh. Another copy of this poem is found in 
Add. MS. 5495, fol. 28, from which the above title and some 
variations are given. 

Muses no more, but Mazes ^ be your names, 
Where Discord^ sound shaft marre yo?/r concorde sweete, 
Ynkyndly now your carefuft fancye frames, 
When fortune treads your fauours vnder feete : 
But foule befalle that cursed Cuckoes throt, 
That see hath crest sweet Philomelaes note ! 6 

And aft vnhappie hatched was that bird, 

That parret-like can never cease to prate ; 

But most vntymely spoken was that word, 

That brought the world in such a woefuft state, 
That Loue and Liheing quite are ouerthrowne, 
And in their place are hate^ and sorrowes growne.* 12 

Is this the Honoure of a Tiaughtie thouglit, 
For Louers hap to haue all spight a Loue ? 
Hath wreached skill thus blinded reason taught, 
In this conceipt such discontent to mooue ? 

That Beaut ie so is of her sellc berefte, 

That no good hope of ought good hap is lefte ?^ 18 

Oh let no Phoenix looke vpon a Croive, 
Nor daintye Hills bow downe to dirtye dales ; 
Let neuer Heauen an Hellish Humour knowe, 
Nor firme affect^ give eare to fooUisli tales : 

For this in fyne wift faft to be the troth, 

That pudle''' watter makes vnholsome broth. 24 

Woe to the worlde, the sonne is in a clowde, 

And darksome mists ^ doth ouerrunne the day, 

In Hope^ conceipte is not content'*' allow'd, 

Fauour must dye and fancye weare awaye : [isi bk.] 

^ Add. Marzes for " Mazes." ^ whose discords for "where discord." 

3 is greife for "are hate." * soicen for "growne. * Add. omits this stanza. 
^ aspect iox ^^ sStci." ' 7?/</;y for "pudle." ^ »«/«< for " mists." 

^ high for " hope." '° content is best for " is not content." 

Poor I mud suffer. 251 

Oh Heauens what^ Helt ! The bands of Loue are broken, 
Nor must a thought^ of such a thiug^ be spoken. 30 

Mars must become a Coward in his mynde, 
Whiles Vulcan stands to prate of Venus toyes : 
Beautie must seeme to go against her kinde, 
In crossing Nature in her sweetest ioyes : 
But Oh ! no more, it is to much to thinke, 
So pure a mouth should puddle watters drinke ! 36 

But since the world is at this woefuft passe, 

Let Loues submission Honours wrath apease ; 

Let not an Horse be matched with an Asse, 

Nor hatefutl tongue an happie hart disease : 
So shaft the world commend a"^ sweet conceipt, 
And Humble fayth on heauenly Honour waite. 

finis. Comes Essex. 42 

[MS. Bibl. Reg. 17 B. l. leaf 2.]^ 

Fetses rnaUe bp fte €arlc of OBsscr in U% Crouble. 

Essex here laments the unmanageable character of the Queen, or 
is represented as so doing. 

The waies on earth haue paths and turnings knowne, 

The waies on Sea are gone by needles light, 

The birds of th' aire the nearest way have flowne, 

And vnder earth the monies do cast aright : 4 

A way more hard then these I needs must take, 

where none can teach, nor noe man can direct, 

where noe mans good for me example makes. 

But al mens^ faults doe teach her to suspect. 8 

Her thoughts and myne such disproportion haue ; 
All strength of loue is infinite in mee ; 
She vseth the aduantage tyme and fortune gaue 
Of worth and power, to gett the libertie. 
Earth, Sea, Heaven, Hell, are subiect vnto lawes ; 
But I, poore I, must suffer, and knowe noe cause. 14 


^ Add. oh for "what." ^ u-ord iov "thought." 

2 thought iov ^'■i\\\i\g.'" * yo?</- for " a." 

^ There is anotlier copy of these verses, with little or no variation, in Sloane 
MS. 4128, fol. 14*. « MS. nens. 


[Add. MS. 15,226, If. 6b.] 

C6e nisparmge complaintc of torctcfjeti iRatuIcigfte 
for !)ts trcadjcrico ItJcougbt against fte luoctfjie 

FoK allusions to the hostilities prevailing between Ealeigh and 
Essex, see pages 30 and 197. Cuffe is said to have urged Essex 
to remove Cecil, Cobham, and Ealeigh from the Queen's Councils 
at whatever cost. This poem, which is anonymous, must have 
been written by a great admirer of the unfortunate Earl — and he 
had many. 

To wliome shall cursed I my case complaine, 

to moue some pittye of my wretchles state ? 

for thoughe noe other comfort dothe remaine, 

yet pittye would my greife extenuate. 

but oh ! I haue deserued nought but hate, 
For I towards God & man my- self abused, 
& therefore am of god & man refused. 7 

To heauen I dare not lifte my wretched eies, 
nor aske God pro-don for my wicked deeds ; 
for I his word & service did despise, 
esteeminge them of noe more worthe then weeds ; 
from w///ch most vile coneeite theise woes proceeds. 
For now I finde, & findinge, feare to rue, 
theire is a god wA/cli is both iust & true. 14 

And vnto men I likewise am afFraide 
to make complaint, of this my gnaweinge greife, 
Least they, as well they may, should mee vpbraide 
w/tli scorne & pride, w/iich in mee were most rife ; 
& therefore man will yeild mee not E.elefe. 
Thus wretched I, wA/ch euery man did scorne, 
am now my-self of eucrie man forlorne. 21 

What shall I doe in thys perplexed plighte, 
Fearinge to moue to god or man for grace ? 
shall I to heavenly Saints my wooes recite, 
in hope that they will moue my wretched case ? 
noe : It is theire office and theire place 
To iudge such guiltie sinful! soules as I, 
and therefor noe rcleif may come thereby. 28 

A Clogged Comekncp. 253 

Yet one there is of that Caelestiall sorte, nr.?.] 

whoe sure I thincke wouki pitty my distresse ; 

For when hee lined hero, in earthly j)orte, 

hee was the pattcrne of all gentlenes. 

Ah ! but gainst him I greatly did transgresse : 
Then, traitor vile, how canst thou hope for grace 
from him whorae thou by treason didst displace ? 35 

yes, I knowe his vertues here were such, 
Hee did abhorre to beare revengeinge rainde ; 
and beeinge there, they bettered are by much, 
because he Hues remote from fleshlie kinde, 

in perfect ioj^e to blessed Saints assigned. 
A worthy Essex ! but for feare and shame, 
I would invoke thy honorable name ! 42 

But 'ere T can exspect Coraiserac/on, 

1 must intreat forgiuenes hartilie ; 

and 'ere forgiuenes can haue Confirmac/on, 

I must confesse howe I haue iniured thee : 

For it w/th reason rightlie doth agree, 
That such a wrongfull wicked wretch as I 
should first confesse, and then for pr/rdon crye. 49 

Wherefore I will my clogged conscience cleere, 
by true confession of my treacherie. 
That God & angells, Sr//;?ts and men may heare, 
howe I thy honor wrong'd most shamefully, 
w/^?ch on my-selfe is lighted suddainely : 
For this my due deserts, now falne on mee, 
plaiuely declares my treason wrought gainst thee. 56 

For when thy soueraigne did thee well respect, nf.Tbk.] 
as well thou didst deserue to bee respected, 
I then w/th falshood did thy truthe infect, 
whereby her princely ludgm^'/^t was infected, 
and thou by her most causelessly reiected ; 

Then I, which on occasion did attend, 

omitted nought which might thee mee offend. fi3 


254 I Pcncned my Soul. 

For then w/tli open tliroate I did not spare 

to taxe tliy vertues most reprochfullie ; 

Thy vallour was ambition, I would sweare ; 

thy eurteous bomity, liope of sou^raigntie ; 

thy Justice, mallice and extremitye ; 
And thy religious vale I ofte would call 
dissimulac/on to deceaue wjth-all. 70 

Thus With detraccion I did first assaile thee, 

whoe did eflfect what shee did vndertake ; 

Then envie wrought that nothinge might availe thee, 

Though truthe thy iust Apologie did make ; 

Then framed treason brought thee to the stake ; 
That to assaile thee w/th theese furies fell, 
I pawnd my soule to fetch them out of hell. 77 

I allsoe hadd assistance in this worke, 

whose helpinge hands were in as deepe as myne, 

though some of them aloof now slily lurke, 

as if theire consciences were sole devine ; 

yet in a league w/th mee they did combine 

Thee to destroy e by treasons pollicie, 

w/i/ch was effected to our Infamye. 84 

But some of my Confederates in this act, [if. sj 

whose dates of mischeif did w/th myne expire, 

are fallne w/th mee in this p/Y'tended fact, 

prepar'd to paie our due deserued hire, 

nowe, if it were not sinne, I would desire 

That all w/z/ch wrought w/th mee in this disgrace 
might stand w/th mee in this my wretched case. 91 

But what should I need doubt or stand in stare, 
that they shall scape revenge, more bare than I ; 
sure hee whoe hath intrapt mee in this snare 
can traverse them in theire owne pollicie, 
and will, noe doubt, when hee due tyme dothe see. 
For hee will punishe everie treacherous case, 
either in this or in a worser place. 98 

The Stolen Lr/fors. 255 

And therefore, thoughe they florishe for a tyme 

in Grace, authoritye, and honors great, 

w/^'ch maie p^rswade them they ma}^ easily climbe 

vpp to y® highest stepp of Fortunes state, 

yet is theire one whoe can theire hopes deseate, 

For when they thincke themselues in highest respect 
then suddainely hee can them soone deiect. 105 

Witnes ray self, whoe thought my self as sure 

as anie one of my associates all ; 

but now I finde treason cannott indure, 

insultinge pride will likewise haue a fall, 

for such offences doe for vengeance call ; 
And hee w///ch is the remedie of wronge 
hathe said his vengance shall not tarry longe. 112 

Vlhich. by experience I haue found most true ; of. sbk 

for in the self same kinde that I offended, 

hee iustlie hath repaide to race my due ; 

his iustice therefore needs must bee comended, 

w/^/ch hath it-selfe soe equallie extended, 
vsinge the meanes of my owne foule offence 
to giue to mee a righteous recompence. 119 

For as by letters I procur'd thy bane, 
which of a periur'd villaine I d/d buye, 
whoe for comoditie hadd stollne the same 
from her to whome thou sent'st them ftiithfuUy, 
containeinge nought but truthe & modestie. 

Yet I, w///ch knew they would thee much infest, 

did spare noe cost till I hadd them possesst : 126 

Soe I throughe lett^'rs, of contrarie kinde 

to those of thine, am now adiudged my meed ; 

for when all other promises did fayle 

mee to offend in this pretended deed, 

my opposites more strictlie did proceed, 
And then a letter did gainst mee produce, 
for which, my cuninge lacks a cleane excuse. 133 

T 2 

256 • Cohham's 3Iachinafiom. 

And thus, as I by le^'/crs tliee offended, 
by le;'/ers nowe ray owne offence was provde ; 
vile Traito?^r I, that ill gainst thee intended, 
"whoe for desert I rather should haue lovde ; 
pride, spite, & mischief thereunto me movde, 

And now mee-thincks dispaire dothe mee surprize, 
settinge thy wrongs before my wretched eyes. 140 

For when I heard mj'-sclfe exclaim'd vppon [if.o.] 

by hira whose mouth e, Mastivelike, revilde thee, 
then thought I howe I laughinge stood b}'^ one 
whose cankred hart broke out & much detild thee, 
and still wee laught, to thinke howe Mee beguild thee. 

I then did praise the barker's mouthe for spendinge ; 

but now he hathe mee plaug'd for then offending. 147 

And now I finde it dothe my conscience gall, 
that wee suborn'd a Judas to betray thee ; 
whoe tould thee, when the Counsell did thee call, 
that I & Cohham by the waye would slaie thee ;^ 
advisinge thee therefore for to stale thee ; 
And thus by fraud wee forc'd thee to offend, 
b}'' disobaj^enge when the lords did send. 154 

It now likewise dothe greeve mee, though too late, 
that wee procurd thy Prince thee to imploye, 
whilest in thy absence wee might worke thy hate, 
by vrginge thou didst purpose to annoye 
thy loueinge Country, & thy Prince dcstroye ; 
And more, to stare her w/th that foule intent, 
wee raised force thy comeinge to prevent. 161 

But well wee knewe thy meaneing was not such, 
thoughe wee pretended soe thee to abuse, 
hoping thereby wee might encrease soe much 
thy soufyaignes hate that shee would quite refuse 
to heare thee speake w/th truthe this to excuse ; 
And sure wee were wee should our purpose gaine, 
if from her presence shee would thee restrain e. 168 

' Lord Cobham, one of the most uncompromising enemies of Essex : he was 
implicated with Ealcigh in the conspiracy to place Arabella Stuart on the throne 
at the beginning of the reiga of James I., and sentenced to death, but afterwards 
reprieved on the scafFold. 

The Spanish Exj^edition. 257 

When falselie ttiis wee hadd the queene possest [if. 9 bk.] 
w/th this conceite, that thou hadst plotted treason, 
wee likewise then our pollicies addrest 
to trayne thee over by some subtill reason, 
whereof our consultations were not geason ; ^ 

For I have heard, thoughe here it may seeme grosse, 
holy's the churche where sathan beares the crosse. 175 

Then wee did blowe abroade the Prince was dead, 

thinckinge thereby to further our intent ; 

for then we hopt thou sure wouldst gather head, 

and come with speed invasion to prevent ; 

for wee before of cuninge purpose sent 

That Spanish expedic/on was in hand,- 181 

the w/^/ch wee knewe thou stronglie woldst w/thstand. 

But here our expectac/on somewhat faded, 
because thou didst not come when wee expected, 
nor in that manner as wee hadd persvaded ; 
thou men'st to come when first thou was detected, 
yet wee soe wrought that thou wast quite reiected. 

And eke restrained of thy libertie, 

the which wee labored most incessantlie, 189 

Now when wee hadd our wishes thus obtained, 
we lefte noe tyme our mischeifes to devise ; 
For then false Articles wee forged & fained, 
wherew/th wee dimm'd thy sou^ raignes princely eyes ; 
and then did every one against thee rise, 

like as a single hound by Currs ore matched, 

once beeinge downe, b}^ every Curre is snatched. 196 

Then for Starrchamber wee did worke a-pace, [if. 10.] 

pretendinge thou shouldst presentlie appeare, 
and there by order answer face to face 
such articles as should concerne thee neare ; 
but this was neu^'r meant, the case is cleare, 

for well wee knewe, if thou shouldst there haue spoken, 
our knott of treacherie might haue beene broken. 203 

' scarce. — Halliwell. 

- In 1598 the English were again apprehensive of a Spanish invasion. Pre- 
parations were apparently made by the ministers of Philip III , the new king, 
bnt they ended in nothing. The kingdom was, however, put in a state of defence. 
Essex was forbidden by the Queen to leave his command in Ireland : his enemies 
were apprehensive that he might return to England to drive them from court, 
and therefore procured the order. See Lingard, vol, vi. p. 292. 

258 The Ice BroJmi. 

But wee a farre more clearer sliifte devised 

then that thou shouldst haue answered our obiection, 

for wee procur'd thy falle to bee surmised ; 

thou beeinge absent, oh vile lawes infection ! 

and censured as wee hadd giuen direction ; 

for wee soe wrought thy prince by subtill sawes 

y* what wee willed was of more force then lawes. 210 

The yce was bi'oken, then wee grewe more bold, 
in course of violence forward to proceed ; 
for then all offices w/^/ch thou didst hould 
wee purg'd thee of, as wee before decreed, 
thereby more discontent in thee to breed : 
thus when wee hadd occasion stirdd to ire, 
wee gaue the scope y* shee might kindle fire. 217 

But when wee sawe occasion, nought prevailed 
w;'th furious blast the fier to inflame ; 
but as the more she wrought, the more she fayl'd, 
because coole patience still the heat orecame ; 
for iuce of her by grace Avas on the same : 

wee then another stratagem devised, 

by which, thou was most cuningly surpriz'd. 224 

And this was slye & subtile subornac^'on, [ir. lobk.j 

w/th promisf'-s of very large extent, 
w/«'ch gain'd vs one w/th thee in estiraac^'on, 
and in thy private favo;n- resident : 
of him wee made our workinge instrume;?t, 
thee to pf'^'swade, to gaine thy forme;* grace, 
by vsinge meanes thy hinderers to displace. 231 

But when hee tould vs thou was well contented 
to Hue a private life, remote from care, 
the modell of a proiect wee invented, 
wherein hee might his loue to thee declare, 
by giueinge helpe the state for to repaire; 
to which., when hee had gotten thy consent, 
wee hadd our purpose & our whole intent. 238 

The Confession. 259 

For tlien wee doubted not to pi'icke thee on, 
by subtill force of forged instigac/on, 
w/^/ch wee alreadie hadd resolued vppon, 
to stirre thee vpp to secrett consultac/on, 
for resoluc/on and determinac/on, 

of raeanes and tymes, of present execution ; 

loe thus wee wrought thy vtter dissolution. 245 

Yet this my true detestable Confession 

is but the abstract of my villanye ; 

for I haue wrought more treacherous transgressions 

against thy honour, truthe, & loyaltie; 

then now I can recall to memorye ; 

For vfJuch., w/th sighes, all desperate of releefe, 

I craue for pr/rdon to aszwage my greefe. 252 

And as for this offence wee nowe intended, [if. u.] 

I doe not doubt but I shall favosa' finde ; 

but wliat can my estate bee thereby mended ? 

for still I shall retaine a guiltye rainde, 

for wA/ch I can noe place of refuge finde ; 
for every man will kill mee w/th his eye, 
& therefore twere most ease for mee to dye. 259 

For I such Terror in my Conscience feele, 
by thought of my most execrable deeds, 
that [though] my hart obdurate bee as Steele, 
j'et when I thincke thereon, it quakes & bleeds, 
such peircinge passions from them still proceeds : 
Oh since I haue confessed then the truth e, 
Forgiue mee, then, and pittye this my ruthe ! 266 

But if thou wilt not daigne to pittye mee, 
then must I eu<?r pittiles remayne ; 
for all that lines laughes at my miserie, 
except some fewe, and they I thincke doe faigne, 
fearinge I should theire falshood vile explaine : 

Thus like a Cursed Catiffe did I Hue, 

and now my cursed case dothe noe man greive. 273 




The following poem was probably composed by one of the admirers 
of Essex, who keenly anticipates the disgrace and punishment of 
the unfortunate Earl's rival. Ealeigh is accused of avarice, 
pride, sensuality, and lying. The verses seem to belong to the 
beginning of the reign of James I., wlien Sir Walter was im- 
plicated in the plot for placing Arabella Stuart on the throne, 
tried at Winchester in IGOo and found guilty. Cecil had now 
completely shaken off Ealeigh, and the two confederates in the 
ruin of Essex were endeavouring to supplant each other. 

Many of the accusations brought against Kaleigh by the anony- 
mous versifier are fully substantiated. He' Avas one of the most 
flagrant instances of the gross abuses of the system of monopolies, 
having enjoj'cd a very lucrative patent for licensing tlie sale of 
wine, which was subsequently augmented as a reward for his 
services at the time of the Armada. He seems to have been 
at all periods of his life amenable to bribes, and some of the 
offendei-s implicated in the Essex affair were glad to purchase 
his good offices by large sums of money. A Mr. Littleton is 
said to have paid him £10,000. That his private life was 
licentious is well known, and Aubrey quaintly assures us that 
•he was "damnable proud;" but we may perhaps be pardoned 
for an inclination to forget these defects, when we consider the 
gallant general, the man of courtly and chivalrous action, the 
scholar and poet. 

If his memory pales among us, he will not be forgotten by 
our transatlantic kinsmen. In the earlier half of the seventeenth 
century America was the exercising ground of all the most 
rarely attempered, the noblest and the most gallant spirits ; and 
among them all no finer one could be found than Kaleigh. 

To recapitulate the events of his life would be but to make a 
dry catalogue of facts known to every reader. Thus much may 
suffice. He was born in 1552 in Devonshire — one of Devon's 
choicest worthies — and was for some time a student at Oriel 
College, where, as Wood says, " he was worthily esteemed a 
proficient in oratory and philosophy." He afterwards served as 
a volunteer in Erance and the Netherlands ; but his most interest- 
ing undertaking was the attempt to found a colony in Virginia 
in 158-i — memorable for ever as the first English settlement on 
that continent, although the plan was not at first successful. 
It is thus that the name of Ealeigh must be for ever associated 
with the " Old Dominion." 

Diego de Gondomar. 261 

His intrigues against Essex I have already spoken of. Tliey 
form the most discreditable passages of his life, and one would 
willingly forget the scene of Sir Walter viewing the execution 
of his fallen rival. After a long imprisonment, during which 
he composed his " History of the World," he was allowed to 
equip thirteen vessels in 1617, with a view of opening a mine 
in Guiana; but the expedition resulted in a complete failure, and 
his eldest son was slain at St. Thomas. On his return,^ the 
Spanish ambassador complained of the expedition to James as 
being piratical; and the English monarch, who at that time 
was anxious to bring about the marriage of his son with the 
Infanta, readily sacrificed a man for whom he had never had 
a great predilection. In a Spanish life of Diego Sarmiento 
de Acuiia, Conde de Gondomar, the ambassador previously 
mentioned, published at Madrid in the year 1622, we find it re- 
corded with a flourish of triumph that he caused the head of 
the English General, "Walter Kaleigh, to be cut oft' (hizo cortar 
la cabega al General Ingles Whaltero Kale) ; and of the same im- 
portant individual we are told that he chastized the insolence of 
the bold English pirate, Francisco Draques.^ Whatever the 
causes may have been, Ealeigh perished on the scaffold on the 
29th of October, 1618. In his last moments he comported him- 
self with much dignity. 

Of his literary works his '• History of the World " is now but 
little read. It is a heavy performance, but has some fine out- 
bursts of eloquence. Some of the poetical pieces assigned to him 
are beautiful, and contain many of the exquisite touches peculiar 
to the authors of the Elizabethan period ; they were, however, for 
the most part, published anonymously, and cannot in many 

^ See Howell's Epistolfe Ho-Eliaiipc, 1645, page 6: "Sir Walter landed at 
Plymouth, whence he thought to make an escape, and some say he hath tampered 
with his body by Phisick, to make him look sickly, that he may be the more 
pitied, and permitted to lie in his own house. Count Gondamar, the Spanish 
Ambassador, speaks high laugunge, and sending lately to desire audience of his 
Majestic, he said he had but one word to tell him, his Majestie W'ondring what 
might be delivered in one word ; when he came before him, he said onely, 
' Pyrats ! Pyrats ! Pyrats ! ' and so departed. Tis true that he protested against 
this Voyage before, atid that it could not be but for some praedatory designe : 
and if it be as I hear, I fear it will go very ill with Sir "Walter, and that 
Gondamar will never give him over till he hath liis head off his shoulders ; 
which may quickly be done, without any new Arraignment, by vertue of tiie old 
Sentence that lies still dormant against hini, which he could never get off by 
Pardon, notwithstanding that he mainly laboured in it before he went; but his 
Majestie cuuld never be brought to it, for he said he would keep this as a Curb 
to hold him within the bounds of his Commission, and the good behavour." 

'^ See Notes and Queries, 1st series, March 26th, 18o3. 

262 ' Raleigh's Religion. 

instances be attributed to him on the safest evidence. It was the 
great age of miscellaneous collections, into which the rare spirits 
showered the cornucopias of their wits. He was probably the 
author of the answer to Christopher Marlowe's " Come live with 
me," and if so, deserves a niche, be it but a small one, among 
his great contemporaries. Moreover, he was the friend of Spenser, 
and prophesied the glories of the " Faerie Queene." 

Eatolcigfjs Caucat to Secure Couctier0. 

[From Add. MS. 15,226, fol. 11 back.] 

I speake to such, if anie such there bee, 

whoe are possessed, through theire princes grace, 
with swellinge pride, scorneinge insolencie, 
hauglitie, disdaineinge, & abuse of place : 
To such I saie, if anie such there bee, 
come see theire vices punished in mec. 6 

For I that am uowe as ye see abiected, 

by iust desert of former life ill spent, 
was sometymes of my prince as well respected 
as anie nowe in this new Gouerment ; 
But for I then my fauo?;>' misimployed, 
I now w/th punishm(';?i! am much annoyed. 12 

Then did I hold Religion but a Jest ; 

farr more esteeminge my owne pollicie, 
whereby I framed my acc?'ons as a beast, 
moved by beastlike sensuallitie. 

For what my fleshly liumo?^r.s did delight, 

That held I lawfull, were it wrong or right. 18 

My whole endeavo;?;' was to please my sence 

with greedie avarice & fowle oppression, 
divelishe disdaiue, filthie incontinence, 

& false invenc/ons were my cheife profession ; 
those vices were by mee still exercised, 
and these haue caused mee to bee dispised. 24 

Eis Avarice. 263 

And well liee clothe deserue despised to bee, [foi. 12.] 

whose iniude w/th such corrupc/on is infected ; 
wherefore 'twere good yow should theire natures see, 
that soe they male the sooner bee reiected ; 
ffor anie one of them sufficient is 
bothe soule & bodie to deprive of blisse. 30 

First looke on Annrice, that senceless beast, 

and yow shall see noe end of greedie scrapinge ; 
for thoughe her paumch bee stopt at Middaies feast, 
her still devouringc mouthe contynewes gapinge : 
most wise was hee whoe did her nature titt, 
comparinge her to the iufernall pitt. 36 

If yow her reason should desire to knowe, 

why beeyond reason shee dothe ritches loue ; 
suerlie noe other reason shee could showe, 
but Covetous desire w///ch dothe her move. 
The w/z/ch enforceth her soe lowd to Crye 
ffor liiches, Riches, most incessantlyc. 42 

Then RicJies come, and vcith her shee dothe bringe 
her God, her daughters, and her servants thi-ee ; 
her Enimies doe alsoe after flinge 

whoe dothe her much molest & terrific ; 
For Riches never doe approache alone, 
but is by Furies fierce attended on. 48 

Pluto her God dothe guide her bv the hand, [foi. 12 bk.] 

and dothe dispose her when hee best dothe please ; 
her daughter. Pride, dothe swellinge on her stand, 
whoe, w/th sharpe prickinge, doth her much disease : 
ffilthy excesse for more, more still cryes, 
and ignorance dothe blinde her mothers eies. 54 

Blinde Chance her servfo^t sometime doth availe her, 
and some times hee by losse sore dothe wrong her ; 
but Fraud & Vsurye doe never faile her, 

but like good servants still doe p/'ofitt bring her : 
Suspit/on, feare & greife, her enimies, 
doe waite advantages, her to supprise. 60 

264 Monopolies. 

Now when vile Auaiice is full possest 

Of riches, and this traine w/^/ch doth attend, 
Shee dothe account herself not meanely blest, 
and then to gaine a heaven she will not spend ; 
but still dothe seeke her to increase w/th gaine, 
by all meanes possible w/th busie paine. 66 

For when oppression must his cunninge vse, 

In Monopolies and in tr[a]nsportacmns, 
whereby hee raanie thousands dothe abuse, 
by sendinge that awaie to many nations 

wA/ch should bee dealt for gods sake to y^ poore, 
whoe, wantinge, aske the same from doore to doore. 72 

But Avarice for riches still dothe crye [foi. i3.] 

Soe stronglie that the poore cannot be hard, 
for shee hadd rather the}^ should starue & dye 
then shee from gettinge riches should be barred : 
such is the nature of y' damned Spright, 
that riches onely are her whole delighte. 78 

To pleasure her oppression w/th his power. 

Of all the meaner sorte dothe make his praye, 
like to a wide mouthd pike, w///ch dothe devoure 
the smaller Fishe, w/'/ch cannott gett awaye : 
and when the Foxes skinne can take noe place, 
then dothe oppression use the lyons Case. 84 

If hee by strengtli of place dothe rule y® lawe, 
and suites decrees uppon long pleaded cases, 
then if a matter hauo a craeke or fflawe, 

Arr/enfion must annoynt those Crazie places, 
Wherebj'^ in tyme it growes sufficient stronge 
to passe for cnvvent, bee it right or wrong. 90 

And if shee bee in place of Gouerraent, 
haueinge of meaner places ouersight, 
then such as doe not bribes to him present 
are either pentioned or discharged quite ; 
For avarice doth still crie out for Gaine, 
and the opp/resor dothe noe wronge refraine. 96 

Pride and Enri/. 265 

When theise vile vices hadd my coffers filld, [foi. 13 bu.] 

my minde likewise was then filld with, disdaine ; 
by whose appyoche all vertues quite were spilld, 
w/'/ch doe in mind of anie man remaine ; 

Yet in my minde shee found but few to spill, 

for (since it was a minde) the same was ill. 102 

This hell-bredd Monster, of fowle divelish kinde, , 

was gotten by proud scorne of scornefuU Pride ; 
Nurst upp by Enrie in a Cankred minde, 
w/i/ch could noe other but itselfe abide ; 
Deformitie her nature dothe exp>Tsse 
her nature poison es where it doth possesse. 108 

Of this her nature was my minde possest, 
and w?'th her poison was I all infected, 
the w/(j/ch by me in fury was exprest, 

When anie but my self I sawe respected ; 
For were hee farr my better in degree, 
Yet I disdaind hee should my equall bee. 114 

This hatefull vice made mee soe odious seeme 

that for the same I hated was of all ; 
For as none but myselfe I did esteeme, 

soe none there was w/i/ch did not wish my fall : 
wherefore if this in anie of y^ bee, 
Come, see the same now punished in mee. 120 

I likewise, like a beast, much tyme did spend [foi. 14 ] 

in that most beastly sinne of fleshly pleasure, 
to w/^/ch w/th filthy minde I much did bend, 
makinge noe spare of bodie, soule, nor treasure; 
For as a beast is moued still by sence, 
soe was I moued by fowle incontinence. 126 

And for I would bee exquisite herein 

I vsed supf rnaturall devises ; 
powders, perfumes, paintings for filthy skinnes, 
Extracc/ons, distillac/ons, spiritts of spices ; 
w/th theise and such like tricks I still was able 
to trimme a hackney for the Divells stable. 132 

266 Flattery. 

And as younge Apes doe learne by imitac/on 

of elcler Apes theire friskinge Apeislie toyes, 
soe many Apes & Monkeyes vse my fashion, 
and in the same doe places their cheifest joyes : 
never was beast to nature so vniust, 
as man & woman giuen to beast-like lust. 138 

This^sinne was my familiar recreacron, 

wherein I gloried much w/th shameles pinde ; 
boastinge ray self of easie acceptac/on, 
protestinge that I neu^r was denj^ed : 
Ah but if this in anie of yow bee, 
come see the same now iustly plaug'd in mee. 144 

In false Invenc/on likewise I excelled, [foi. u bk.] 

w/th wA/ch my Prince's eares I much abused, 
whereby plaine truthe was oftentymes repelled, 
and such as did prevent her were refused : 
This sinne is onely proper to the devill, 
then I w/»'ch vsed the same must needs bee evill. 150 

Noe toothe of beast or subtile serpente stinge 

is halfe soe hurtfull as a lyars tounge ; 
for those but paine to outward pr/;-ts do bringe, 

w/^/ch niaie bee cured well w/th medicines stronge ; 
but if a lyars tonge doe make a wound, 
noe salue can heale the same or make it sound. 15G 

"When smoothd toung^d flatterie w/th falsehood ioyne, 

as seldome yow shall see them goe apr/rte, 
then what the one in her false harte dothe coyne, 
the other publishcth by subtill arte : 

And such a Tincture on the same shee setts, 

that of the greatest it acceptance getts, 162 

Surelie if Princes rightlie wold conceiue 
what danger lyes in fawninge flaterie, 
how of theire sences.shee doth them bereaue, 
and how shee doth impaire royaltie, 

noe doubt they would then hold it for good reason, 
to punishe her as the}'- would punishe treason. 168 

The Foul Sins. 267 

For if it bee offence deservinge deathe, rfoi. 15.] 

To sett the princes sliadowe on base coyne, 
sure liee much more offends wh/ch w/th base breathe 
vnto the princes substance vice dothe ioyne ; 
and this dothe hee whoe makes an occupac/on, 
his prince to humo;^r with base adulac/on. 174 

Theise twoe united sinnes did first aduance mee, 

and by theise twoe I still my state sustain'd, 
and theise in sinne soe highlie did inhance mee, 
that for the same this raischeif I haue gain'd ; 
wherefore if theise in anie of yo^ bee, 
come see theise & the rest now plaug'd in mee^. 180 

But do not come as Idle Gazers vse, 

whoe make noe vse of what they doe behold ; 
but come & see how God dothe mee refuse, 
because myself to vice I wholly sould : 

Soe come & see ; behould theise plauges in mee, 

& fly my sinnes least plaug^'d soe yow bee. 186 

And doe not thinke that earthlie princes Graces 

can giue protecc^on to a life ill-spent, 
nor doe not thinke authoritie of places 

can for one hower reu<:'>'se due punishment ; 
for neither favor nor authoritie 
can stale God's hand from iust severitye. 192 

Wherefore all yo"' whoe knowe yo?^r selues infected [foi. 15 bu.] 

w/tli these fowle sinnes w/z/ch I haue now confessed, 
see y*^ in tyme your prayers bee directed, 
& that your wrongs comitted bee redressed ; 
For if yo^' doe not speedily repent, 
bee sure yo^ shall receaue iust punishment. 193 

bee not deceiued by vaine imaginac/on 

of Gods remisse, forgetfullnes of wronge, 
for hee sometymes vse procrastinac/on. 

Yet will hee not deferre his com/;?einge longe ; 

For when mans sinfull measures overfrothe, 203 

then powers he forthe his measures filled w/th wrothe. 

268 A Warning. 

Soe measure iust for measure shall yo^ haue, 

if still w/thout remorse y^ doe olFend ; 
and therefore if yo^ hope jour selues to saue, 
leaue of in time & seeke.yo»>- lines to mend : 

but if yo^ still contynewe in yo«r sinninge, 209 

then shall your ende paie deare for yo;(r beginninge. 

And do not hould this my advice for vaine, 

because yo"^ knowe mee vaine w///ch doth advise yo"^ ; 
but rather doe thereby youv vice refraine, 

least for the same both God & man despise yo"^ ; 

For thoughe my owne confession proue me evill, 215 
Yet truth hath some time come even from the divell. 

And therefore since w/th truthe yo^ nowe are warn'd,[foi. le.] 
thoughe from a mouthe that truthe hathe seldome vsed, 
Yet speakinge truthe let not the same be scorn'd, 
but lett the cause thereof bee well ;jerusf d ; 

And yo"' shall find that God dothe soe ordaine it 

for yo?<r behalf, if yo"^ can entertaine it. 222 

But if yow willfully advice refuse, 

and, like as I did, growe from ill to worse ; 
then looke what paym(?;?t God to mee dothe vse, 
such or the like hee will to yo^ disburse ; 

For if my warninge cannott now advise yo^, 

my punishme^it shall shortlie then surprize yo"". 228 



[Lansdowne MS. 777, leaf G4. Variations given from another copy in 
Harl. MS. 791, leaf 49.] 

HDn %^ ma. IRalcigb's Dcatfj/ 

Great heart, who taught thee so- to dye, 

Death yeelding thee y^ victory ? 

where^ took'st thou leaue of life ? if there, 

How couldst thou be so free from feare ? 4 

But sure thou didst,^ & quitd'st y® state 

Of Flesh & blood before y* Fate. 

Else what a rayracle is wrought 

To tryumph both in ^ flesh & thought ? 8 

I saw in euery^ stander by 

Pale Death ! life onel3'e in thine eye. 

The Legacy thou gau'st ys y", 

wee'll sue for when thou dyest agen, 12 

Farwell; y'^ glory truth shall saye''' 

wee dyde, thou onelye liu'dst y* daye. 14 

' This piece has been already printed. See Hannah's " Courtly Poets," 
1870. A copy occurs among the EawUnsonian MSS. 699, p. 35, and also among 
the Hawthornden MSS., vol. viii. 

'^ Harl. thus /or so. ^ when /or where. * dicd'st. 

^ over /or both in. ^ all the /or euery. 

" For truth shall to thy glory say, /or line 13. 




The following lines are said to have been written by Dr. Lewis,' 
one of Bacon's chaplains, whom he afterwards caused to be 
made head of Oriel College at Oxford when a very young 
man, "not caring," he said, "for minority of years where 
there was majority of parts." The appointment, however, 
does not appear to have been a fortunate one, for he got 
into some scandal, and had to give it up. The verses relate 
to the fall of the " wisest, meanest of mankind," as Pope 
has it, in 1621, when Bacon was prostrate in the dust. 
Of course every one who wishes to read the life of this in- 
tellectually great man must go to the exhaustive work of IMr. 
Spedding, which is a KTrj/Jia el<i aet for everything connected 
with hiin ; nor will the glowing rhetoric of Macaulay ever want 
its readers, although the study may not be so profound a one. 
All encomium upon Bacon as philosopher, essayist, and historian 
is idle : the pathetic words of his will, when he bequeathed his 
memory to foreign nations, and to his own countrymen when 
some generations were passed, have been amply fulfilled : he 
now stands a statuesque and colossal figure for all time. Those 
who cannot bring wits enough to fathom the depths of the 
Novum Organum, may admire the close-wrought gold, the subtle 
analysis, the delicate antithesis of the essays, or pause with 
delight upon the quaint reflections teeming with worldly wisdom 
introduced so copiously among his historical works — more 
neglected, but most unjustly so. 

Three other copies of this poem are found in the British 
Museum : Sloane MS. 1792, leaf 109; Add. MS. 29,303, leaf 36.; 
and Add. MS. 25,303, leaf 83, referred to for the various read- 
ings as V. X. and Z. There is also another among the Jackson 
MSS.. presented to the University of Edinburgh by Mr. Halliwell 
(p. 82), thus headed: "In laudem Francisci Baconis olim totius 
Ano-lia3 cancellar." 

' Dr. William Lewis, Provost of Oriel College (1618-1621). He resigned, and 
died at an advanced age in 1667. — See Gutcli, History of Colleges and Halls of 
Oxford, 1781. 


Dor. netois, f)ls fooltof) intjectme against tbt 
Ipatlament for proceeDinge to censure ftis 
iLo^ Ferulame.' 

[Sloaue MS. 826, leaves 4, 5, 8 : title from Add. MS. 25,303.] 

When you awake, dull Brittons, and beliould 

What treasure you haue throwne into your * mould ; 

Your ignorance in pruming^ of a state 

You shall confesse, and shall ^ your rashnes hate : 4 

For in your'^ senceles furie you haue slaine 

A man, as farre beyound your^ spungie braine 

Of common knowledge, as is'' heaven from hell 

And yet^ you tryvmph, thinke you haue done well. 8 

Oh, that the monster multitude should sit^ 

In place of iustice, reason, conscience, witte, 

Nay in a^° throne or'^ spheare above them all ! 

For tis a supreame power that can call 12 

All these to barre :^^ and w/tli a frowning brow. 

Make Senatours, nay mightie Consults bow. 

Bould Plebeans, the day will come I know 

When such a'- Cato, such a^^ Cicero, 16 

Shalbe more worth '^ then the first borne ^^ can be 

Of all your auncestours, or posteritie. 

But hees not dead you^^ say : oh, that^^ the soule 

Once checkt, controwld, that once^'^ vsed to controwle, 20 

' X. has, instead of this title, the following : " Certen verses made in the 
belialfe of S^ Francis Bacon, wlioe was Lorde Keeper of Englande Anno 1620 ; 
but tlien put off by the Parlement howese for some occations to me vnknowen." 
V. kfis onhj " On Sir Francis Bacon." 

* V. this; X. and Z. the for your. ^ V. and X. praving; Z. pruning. 

* X. and Z. that for shall. ' » V. X. and Z. a/or your. 
® V. X. and Z. thc/o>- your. "^ V. omits is. 

* X. omits yet ; Z. has tryumphinge for you tryvmph. 

3 A marginal note in Add. MS. 29,303 to lines 9-13 says, "The maker hereof was 
too bould in his censure, and partiall in his loue, as maye appeere by the sequell." 
1° Z. the, and, /or a, or. 

'1 V. There to the; X. Such to the /or All . . . to ; Z. has the after to. 
'- V. X. and Z. as /or a. 

'^ X. and Z. worthy /or worth. '* X. omits borne. 

'5 V. you'll /or you. le V. X. and Z. but /or that. 

''' V. X. and Z. omit once. 

r 2 

272 Dame Nature's Work. 

CowcTietli lier downie wings, and scornes to flye 

At any game but faire eternitie. 

Each spirit is retired to a roome, 

And makes^ his living body but a toombe ; 24 

On which such^ epitaphs may well be read 

As would the gazer strike^ w/th sorrow dead. 

Oh that I could but give his worth a name [foi. 4 bk.] 

That if not you, your sonnes may* blush for shame ! 28 

Who in arithmatick hath greatest^ skill 

His good partes cannot number, yet** his ill 

Cannot be calld a number ; since tis knowne 

He had but few that could be calld his owne : 32 

And those in other men (even in these times) 

Are often praised, and" vertues calld, not crimes. 

But as in purest^ things the smalest® spott 

Is sooner found, then either staine or blott 36 

In baser stuff; even so his chance was such 

To haue of faults to few, of worth to much. 

So by the brightnes of his owne^ cleare light 

The moates he had lay open to each sight. 40 

If yee would '^' haue a man in all points good 

You must not haue him made of flesh and bloud : 

An act of Parliament you first must settle 

And force dame Nature worke^^ in^^ better mettle. 44 

Some faults he had, no more then serve ^^ to proove 

He drew his line from Adam, not from Jove. 

And those small staines^* nature for its^^ ofience 

Like moones in arraorie^^ made a difference 48 

Twixt him and angetls; beeing sure^^ no other 

Then markes^* to know him for their ^^ younger brother. 

Such spotts remooved (not to^^ prophane) he then 

Might well be call'd a demie God mongst men. 52 

1 V. and X. made for makes. ^ x. omits such. 

=* X. and Z. prick /or strike. * X. and Z. might /or may. 

' X. oiniis greatest. ^ X. but /or yet. 

' X. prayses/o?- praised and. 

8 Z. purer, poorest /or purest, smalest; X. purest /or smalest. 

9 Z. noone /or owne. '" X. will /or would. 
'1 X. to before worke. '- V. on for in. 

13 V. X. and Z. served for serve. '* X. in before nature. 

'5 V. X. and Z. forced/or for its. '" "V. X. and Z. were before made. 

" X. since /or sure. '* X. made /or raarkes. 

13 X. a/or their. ^° X. omits to. 

The Beasts in the Arh. 273 

A diamond flawed, saphyers and rubies stained 

But vnder vale wed are, not^ quite disdained; 

Which- by a file^ recoverd they become 

As worthie of esteerae, yeeld no lesse sum««e. 56 

The gardner finding once a canker growne 

Upon a tree, that he hath frutefull knowne, 

Grubs it not vp ; but w/th a carefull hand 

Opens the roote, remooves the clay or sand CO 

That cawsed the'^ cancar, or w/th cunning arte 

Pares of some rynde, but comes not nere y® harte. [foi. 5 ] 

Only such trees y® axes adge endure 

As nere bare fruite, or else are past all cure/'^ 64 

The prudent husbandman thrusts not his sheare 

Into his^ corne because some''' weeds are there, 

But takes his hooke, and gently as he may 

Walke through the^ field, and takes ^ them all away. 68 

A house of many roomes one^° may com>;mnd. 

But yet it shall require many a hand 

To keepe it cleane : and if some filth be found 

Grope ^^ in by^- negligence, is't cast to th' grownde ? 72 

Fie, no ; but first y*^ supreame owner comes, 

Examines everie office, viewes the roomes. 

Makes them be clensed, and on some certaine paine 

Com;>mnds they never be found so againe. 76 

The temple else should over-throwne haue bin, 

Because some money-brokers^^ were therein. 

The arke had sunke and perisht in the floud. 

Because some beasts crope^* in that were not good. 80 

Adam had w/th a thunderbolt bin strooke. 

When he from Eve the golden ^^ apple tooke. 

But should the maker of ^'^ mankinde doe soe, 83 

Who should write Man ? who should to mans state grow ? 

Shall he be then put to th' extreame of law. 

Because his conscience had a little flaw ? 86 

1 V. hut for not. 2 y. Yet /or Which. 

3 X. and Z. foyle for file. ^ V. this for the. 

* Z. omits the next twelve lines. ^ X. the/o>- his. 

' X. such/o?- some. ** X. his for the. 

9 X. pluckes/o?- takes; V. pulls /o;- takes. '" V. man after one. 

'1 Crept. An instance of a strong perfect, which has since been changed into 
a weak form. '- X. Crept in through /or Crope in by. 

" X. changers /or brokers. '* X. and Z. crept/or crope. 

I* Z. tempting /or golden. is V. all after of. 

274 His Predecessor. 

Will ye want conscience cleane, because y*' he 

Stumbled or tript^ but in a small degree ? 88 

No ; first looke back to all your owne past^ acts, 

Then^ passe your censure, punish all the facts 

By him committed : Then He sweare he shall 

Confesse that you are vpright Chancello^rs all : 92 

And for the time to come w/th all his might 

Strive to out doo you all in dooing right.* 

Oh could his predicessours goost appeare. 

And tell how foule his Master left the chaire l^ 96 

How every feather that he satt vpon [foi. 5 bk.] 

Infectious was, and that there was no stone 

On which some contract was was** not made to fright 

The fatherlesse and widdow from their right. loo 

No^ stoole, no''' boord, no'' rush, no''' bench, on which 

The poore man was not sould vnto the rich. 

It® would have 9 longer time the roome to aire 

And what yee now call foule yee would thinke fair.^° 104 

He tooke to keepe (tis knowne), this but to live; 

He robd to purchace land, and this to give. 

And had this'^ beene so blest in his^^ owne'^ treasure, 107 

He would have given much ^^ more w/th much more pleasure. 

The nights greate lampe from the rich sea will take,^^ 

To lend the thirstie earth, '^ and from each lake 

That hath an overplus borrow a share, 

Not to its proper^''' vse, but to repaire 112 

The rivers ^® of some parcht and vp-dried hill : 

So this vnconstant planet (for more ill 

Envie cannot speake of him) tooke from some floud. 

Not for 's owne ^9 vse, but to doe^" others good. lie 

^ X. and slipt/o;- or tript; V. and Z. slipt. * X. and Z. passed /or owne past. 
3 X. and Z. And /or Then. * Z. omits the next ten lines. 

* " Eggerton was before him Lord Keeper." Marginal note to lines 95-98, 
in Add. MS. 29,303. Ellesmere, Thomas Egerton, Bacon (1540-1617). To his 
custody Essex was committed, see p. 206. ^ g{g_ i x. nor /or no. 

"* V. and X. you /or it. » V. give /or have. ^° X. would then be /or 

yee would thinke. '^ V. hee/or this. '* Z. in's /or in his. 

'* V. X. and Z. borne after owne. '* X. and Z. omit much. 

'* Cf. Timon of Athens, act iv. scene 3 : 

" The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction 
Eobs the vast sea : the moon's an arrant thief, 
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun." 
The idea, however, dilated upon in these five lines, is a very old one, and can he 
found in the pseudo-Anacreon. (See Bergk.y ^s V. X. and Z. lande /or earth. 
" V. X. and Z her owen /or its proper. 's V. and Z. ruines for 

rivers; X. raynes. '^ X. his owen /or 's owne. ^^ V. and X, for /or to doe. 

Restore Charity. 275 

But sucli^ misfortune dogg'd his liouest will, 

That what he tooke by^ wrong, he gave as ilh 

For those his bountie nurst, as all suppose 

(not those he iniured), proov'd his greatest foes. 120 

So foolish mothers from their wiser mates 

Oft filch and steale, weaken their owne estates, 

To feede the humor of some wanton boy ; 

They sillie women hoping to haue ioy^ 124 

Of this ranke plant, when they are saplesse growne. 

But seld or never hath it yet bin knowne 

That pamperd youth gave parents more releefe 

Then what increastd their age w/th care^ and greefe. 128 

These^ oversights of Nature, former times [foi. s.] 

Have rather pittied then condem'd as crimes. 

Then wher is charitie become of late ? 

Is her place begg'd ? her office given ^ Hate ? 132 

Is their a pattent got for her restrainte ? 

Or a''' Monopoly gain'd by false complaint ? 

If so, pursue the patentees, for sure 

False information did the writt procure : 136 

The scale is counterfeict, the referrees 

Have taken bribes : then first examine these, 

Restore faire Charitie to her place againe, 

And he that suffers now may then complaine : 140 

Set her at Justice feete, then^ let the poize 

By them directed be, and not by noise. 

Let them his merritts weigh ^ w/th his ofience, 

And you shall finde a raightie difference. 144 

Rase not a goodly building for a toy : 

Tis better to repaire then to destroy. 

You will not force his ashes to y^ vrne. 

Tush, thats not^o it ; himselfe, himselfe will burne. 148 

When he but findes his honour sound retreate 

Like a cag'd foule, himselfe to death will beate : 

And leave the world when thers no healpe at all 

To sight and greeve for^^ his vntimely fall. 152 

1 X. since /or such. 2 x. and Z. with /or by. 

3 X. inioye /or haue ioy. * V. and X. payne /or care. 

» X. This /or These. 

^ X. turned to /or given ; V. and Z. to after given. 

'' V. X. and Z. omit a. & V. X. and Z. and /or then. 

» X. wright/or weigh. 'f Z. omits not. 'i Z. at /or for. 

276 Bo not tut of the Limb. 

The skilfull surgeon cutts not of a lim;«e 

Whilst there is hope : oh deale you^ so with him ! 

He wants not fortitude, but can endure 

Cutting, incision, so they promise cure ; 156 

Nay more, shew him but^ where the ey-sore stands, 

And he wilP search and drest w/th his owne hands. 

Would yee anotomize ? would ye desect [leaf s bk.] 

For your experiment ? oh, yee may elect IGO 

Out of that house where yee as Judges sit,^ 

Diverse for execution far more fitt ;* 

And when ye finde a monster overgrowne'' 

W/th foule^ corruption, let him be throwne 164 

At Justice feete, let him be sacrifiz'd. 

And let" new tortures, new plagues be devised : 

Such as may fright the living from their^ crimes 

And be a president to^ after times ; 168 

Which long-lived records to enseuing daies 

Shall still proclaime, to your^° eternall praise.'^ 170 

' X. wot for you; V. and Z so tlieu/or you so. 

* X. omits but. ^ V. X. and Z. shall /or will. 

* X. reverses these two lines. 

* V. farr oregrowne/or overgrowne. 
^ X. frayle/or foule. 

' V. and X. there be after let, omit be before devised; Z. the same, bid omits 

9 Y. Wkefor their ; X. and Z. such /or their. 

9 Y. X. and Z. for /or to. lo Z. his /or your. 

" Add. MS. 2.5,303 has the following lines appended by way of comment on 
the poem (leaf 86) : 

Blame not the Poet, though he make such moane 

For's Lord, since in his case he pleads his owne; 

if yt his Lord must such sharpe censure haue, 

what then must bee yt was soe very a kniiue ? 4 

yet as his faultes were more, so may we say 

his witts weare, for he quickely run away. 

Like to the man that saw his Master kisse 

y® Poopes foote, feard yt a worse place was his, — 8 

may y® Lords cure succeede liis punishment, 

and iustice him oretake that it ore went; 

Though scapd his first, he stay till y^ last doome, 

and cry Let hir (sic) alone till yt day come. 12 

L(din Verses on Bacon. 277 

The following Verses on Bacon are printed in vol. i. p. 469, of "Prince Charles 
and the Spanish Marriage," by S. R. Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner says : — 

" The following verses are valuable as giving an idea of the mode in which 
Bacon's case was regarded by a not unfavourable looker on." 

Vieecomes Sanctus Albanus Cancellarius Anglicanus 
IMiris dotibus imbutus, ingeniosus et acutus, 
Lingua nemini secundus (ah ! si esset manu mundus) 
Eloquens et literatiis repetundanim accusatus 4 

Acciisatus hand convictus (utinam baud rithmus ficlus) 
Tanquam passer plumbo ictus est regrotus, aut sic dictus, 
Morte precor moriatur reus antequam damnatur, 
Morte dico naturali ; (munus, non est poena tali), 8 

Ab amico accusatus ; miser tu, at es ingratus. 
Actaeon tu propriis manibus, prieda facta tuis canibus 
Pereant canes hi latrantes te famamque vulnerantes. 
Tua sors est deploranda, quid si culpa perdonata, 12 

Fama est per orbem flata quod sigilla sunt sublata. 
Mali semel accusatus, et si poena liberatus, 

Manet malum et reatus, absit hie sit tuus status. 15 

Yive tu, si vitam cupis, vita cara ursis, lupis, 
Et si quid fecisti male, redime et bene vale. 17 

— State Papers, Domestic, vol. cxx. 39. 

[Ilarl. MS. 6038, leaf 27.] 1 

Ucrsca matie bp att tin6notone autfjor bpoit tfje falle of ^'^ Jfrancps 
93acon Hotti Uerulam, biacountc 'S^ aibong s^' ILate lotB 
eifjauncclor of ©nglantie*^ 

Great Verulam is very-lame, the gout of ^ go-out feeling, 

he humbly begs y® Crutch of State, with falling sicknes reeling : 

diseas'd, displeas'd, greiues sore to see * that State by fate should perish ; 

Unhappy, that no hap * can cure, nor high protection cherish : 4 

Yet cannot I but marvaile much at this in Com;«on reason, 

yt Baco)i should neglected be when it is most in season. 

perhaps y® game ^ of Buck hath vilified ^ y^ Boare ; 

or else his Crescents are in war ** y t he can hunt '^ no more. 8 

be it w/i«t it will, the Belatiue your Antecedent moving, 

declines a Case Accusatiue, the Datiue too much loving. 

Young, this griefe will make thee Old, for care with youth ill matches. 

Sorrow makes jW«!'«s muse ; that Ratcheus i" under hatches, 12 

Bushell wants by halfe a pecke the measure of such teares, 

because his Lords posteriors makes the '' buttons yt he weares. 

Though Edney be casheir'd, greife nioues him to compassion, 

to thinke how '^ suddenly is turn'd '- the wheele of his ambition. 16 

1 Other copies of this poem are found in Harl. MS. 367, leaf 187, and Harl. JIS. 1221, 
leaf 806. ; the variations in which are here given, and referred lo as B., A. respectively. 

s This heading is found in Ilarl. MS. 367 only. 

8 B. or /or of. '♦ b. greeueth soare/wr greiues sore to see. 

■* B. hope /or hap. o B. grace /or game. 

' B. doth vilifi /or hath vilified. 8 B. vaine /or war. 9 B. hurte /or hunt, 

'0 A. Ratchers; B. Hatchers. H B o»!(7« the. 

'2 B, that fate should bringe so lowe /or how . . . turn'd. 

278 Verses hij Bacon. 

had Butler liu'd he-ad vext a ^ greiu'd this dismall day ^ to see 

the hogshead y* so late was broach'd, to run so ncere the [lee]. 

Fletcher may go feather bolts for such as quickly shoot them ; 

Now Cockins Combe is newly cut, a man may soone confute him. 20 

The red^-rose house lamenteth much yt this unhappy* day 

Should bring this fall of ^ leafe in March before the spring in Ma)'. 

Albones much^ condoles the losse of this great viscounts Charter, 

"Who suffering for his conscience sake is turn'd Franciscan Martir. 24 

[Royal MS. 17 B. L., leaf 2 back.] 

Vtxsza matie bg ££lu Jfra* 33acon.' 

The man of life vpright whose giltles heart is free 

From all dishonest deeds and thoughts of Vanitie ; 

The man whose silent dales in harmeles ioyes are spent, 

Whome hopes cannot delude, nor fortune discontent : 4 

That man needs neither Towers nor Armor for defence. 

Nor secret vaults to flie from Thunders violence ; 

Hee onelie can behold w«th vnaffrighted eyes 

The horrors of the dcepe and Terro^^s of the skies : 8 

Thus scorning all the care that fate or fortune bring,* 

Hee makes the heauen his booke, his wisdome heauenlie things. 

Good thoughts his onelie frcinds, his life a well spent age, 

The Earth his sober lunc, a quiet Pilgramage. 12 

' A. and /era; B. heed next have /or he-ad vext a. 

* B. so sudden for /or this dismall day. * B. whit /or red. 

* B. so fatall/or vnhappy. a B. the fallinge leafe /or this fall of. 
6 B. omits much. 

■^ This is printed by Mr. Spedding in his edition of Bacon'.'! Works, vol. vii. p. 269, from 
Royal MS. 17 B. L. He does not mention tbe copy in Add. MS. 4128, which also ascribes 
the verses to Bacon. 

8 Add, MS. 4128, leaf 14, has brings for bring. 



These verses are addressed to Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick, 
for a brief account of whom see page 120. He bad been sent to 
France by Elizabeth to support the Protestants. For some notice 
of Dr. Simon Forman and bis MSS. see also p. 70. He seems 
to have enjoyed a very dubious reputation : here we have the 
" wizard " quitting his criminal and deleterious drugs, and be- 
taking himself to the humbler offices of a flatterer and small- 
beer poet. It is to be regretted that his curious diary, preserved 
among the Ashmolean MSS., has not been entirely printed. As 
yet only a few extracts have appeared — as, notably, the interest- 
ing mention of the production of Macbeth, 

[Ashmolean MS. 208, leaf 260 bk.] 

lorn of 2Harncfe. 

What doth more glad the harts of men 

Then springe tim when hit comes ? 
Or what doth pinch men more with care 

Then hyemps with her Bloms ? 4 

For when that Ladie Ver aj)pears, 

for good relife men hope ; 
But when Againe A waie hit fares, 

Then Hiemps cuts their croj)e. 8 

So wase ther nothinge, noble Lord, 

That more did make men glad, 
Then when the folke of your coming 

Abundaunt newes they haid. 12 

Then did their harts in bodyes lepe, 

for ioye of your co;;nninge ; 
And to behould your Louely cher, 

futt great wase their Runninge. 16 

for whye, they knewe Asuredly 

that comfort with youe came 
In depe distres their harts to ease ; 

Therfore thei praise your name. 20 

280 A Name in all our Coasts. 

Therfore they praye continually, 

That here stilt might byd, 
And never wold with willing hart 

That youe from them should ryd. 24 

And I my-self, noble Lord, 

Could wishe youe her to dwelt 
Continuallie with willing hart ; 

for suer hit^ lykes me welt. 28 

Ase Euphrates of Paradice, 

That flod Abrood doth spred ; 
So doth yo((;" name in Alt our costes, 

wher so ever youe goe or ryde. 32 

The wind, Also, which Bloweth stilt, 

Youre name Abrood doth Bare ; 
for prudent Justice in youe flowes, 

which rids men out of care. 36 

And ase The "SVett of Helicon, 

That never dryeth vpe. 
So is jour name in ait this land, 

for whye ? none can hit stope. 40 

Even ase the Gutter of the plowghe, 

which makes the land to Reue ;^ 
Soe doth your name the harts of men 

with good report them cleue. 44 

The which Report god still encres. 

And graunt youe happie daies. 
And nestors yeares that youe maye Liuc, 

And stilt Augment your praise. 48 

And thuse farwett, moste noble Lord ; ^f 26i bk.] 

my hart hear at is sade : 
But yet we hope to se the daies 

when youe our harts shall glad 52 

1 MS. hits. 2 xo tear or be torn. 

The Shrphml of the Ocoan. 281 

Againe, I meane At j^our Ret urn e 

Againe even to this place ; 
Again, I saie, god graunt hit be, 

And that with in short space. 56 

Noe other gifte I haue M'her w/th 

I might present yo?^r praise ; 
for, certe.s, I am A scoUare poor, 

In learning spend my daies. 60 

But thus doe youe in mind, I praie, 

Receiue nowe in good part. 
And not except the thinge hit selfe 

Aboue my willinge hart. 64 

Simon fforma??. 
1578, Ja^uari the lOtli. 

To write a life of Martin Frobisher is only to go over very old 
ground. He was born at Doncaster, of parents in a humble 
position. Being provided with funds by Ambrose Dudley, Earl 
of Warwick, he fitted out three ships in 1576, with a view of 
discovering a North-west passage to China. In 1577 he sailed 
from Harwich on another expedition, and returned towards the 
close of the same year. In 1588 he commanded the Triumph, 
and exerted himself vigorously against the Spanish Armada, 
and finally was sent, in 1594, with four men-of-war, to the 
assistance of Henry IV. of France. Here, in an assault on tlie 
fort of Croyzon, he received a wound in the hip, of which he 
died soon after his return to Plymouth. His adventures have 
found a chronicler in the indefatigable Hakluyt. 

Of such a stamp and mode of life was old Martin Frobisher, 
one of the sea-lions of the Elizabethan epoch — a " shej)herd of 
the ocean," to quote the rather fantastic appellation which 
Spenser gave to his visitant on the banks of 

" Mulla mine, whose waves I whilome taught to weep." 

But for these sea-glories, of course, we must go to Mr. Kingsley's 
fresh, vigorous books, which seem to be redolent of the brine 
and the bold roystering deeds of our forefathers. Like the 
Homeric heroes, they did not blush to unite the duties of the 
sailor and the wild adventures of the buccaneer, TJiev founded. 

282 The Adieu at Greenwich. 

however, the maritime glories of England, and the maiden Queen 
gladly accepted their services, and gave them her countenance 
and support. She could grace the " Golden Hind " with lier 
presence at a dinner ; and when Master Frobisher set out on his 
first voyage, a regal hand was seen waving him an adieu as his 
vessels passed the Palace at Greenwich.^ 

[Ashmolcan MS. 208, leaf 262.] 

Cftoma.s t\\\% in praise of frotilsfjet.' 

Yf gretians stout did right extott 

Their Worthye Weights of fame, 
And gaue to them great honors highe, 

AYliich did deserue the same ; — 4 

Yf they had cause for to Advaunce 

Alcydes for his might, 
Which did subdewe ecli sturdle foe 

And monster fierce in fight ; — 8 

Wliich brought fro/;? hcspcrus ylle y® frut 

Which glitterud lyke to gould, 
And did euricho his Countrye soil! 

wiih heaps of goulden mould : — 12 

1 "The first voyage of M. Martiue Frobislier to the Northwest, for the search 
of the straight or passage to China, •written by Christopher Hall, Master in the 
Gabriel, and made in the yecre of our Lord 1576. 

" The 7 of June being Thursday, the two barks, viz. The Gabriel and the 
Michael, and our pinnesse set saile at EatclifFe, and bare down to Detford, and 
there we ancred: the cause was, that our pinnesse burst her boultsprit, and fore 
mast athwart of a ship that rode at Detford, else we meant to have past that day 
by the Court, then at Grenewich. 

"The 8 day being Friday, about 12 of the clock we mayed at Detford, and 
set sail all three of us, and bare downe by the Court, where we shotle off our 
ordinance and made the best shew we could : Her Maiestie beholding the same, 
commended it, and bade us farewell, with shaking her hand at us out of the 
window. Afterward she sent a Gentleman aboord of us, who declared that her 
Maiestie had good liking of our doings, and thanked us for it, and also willed our 
Captaine to come the next day to the Court to take his leaue of her. 

" The same day towards night M. Secretarie Woolly came aboorde of us, and 
declared to the company, that her Maiestie had appointed him to give them 
charge to be obedient, and diligent to their captaine, and governours in all 
things, and wished us happie successe." — Uakluyt, vol. iii. p. 29. 

"^ Who Thomas Ellis was I cannot discover. Did Forman compose the verses 
in his name ? 

The Golden Fleece. 283 

Or yf that theie deservedlye 

enrold the valiaunt facts 
of the Adventrose Jason braue 

with Ail his noble actes, 16 

And att his noble knitlye trope 

from Cholchis ylle, the which 
Did bringe A waie the goulden fleece, 

his Countrie to enriche : — 20 

Yf thes, I saye, w/t/i flickeringe fame, 

wear lyke to loftie ^ skye. 
That even tyft nowe in thes our daies 

Their fame A freshe doth flye ; — 24 

"Whie should not then our frobisher, 

Whoe sure doth them surmoH«t, 
With goulden Trumpe of Thundringe fi:ime 

be glad in lyke acompte ? 28 

His harte ase valiaunt is Ase theirs. 

His hazards wear more hard, 
His good succes doth theirs surpase, 

Yf they be weft compard. 32 

The glittering flece that he doth bringe,- 

In value suer is more 
Then Jasons was, or Alcyds frute, 

wher of was mad such store. 36 

And cruefl: monsters he doth tamo, 

And men of sauage kind. 
And searcheth out the swellinge seas, 

And Countrise straunge doth find. 40 

And brings hom treasur to his land. 

And doth enrich the same, 
And Corage giues to noble harts 

To soke for fleight of fame. 44 

giue place, therfore, youe greatians nowe, 

And to me giue Assent : 
This worthy weight excells youre imps. 

The which befor him vent. 48 

finis. qd. S. fo. 

1 MS. loftie. 

* The second expediton of Frobisher in 1577 was fitted out with a view to the 
discovery of gold. 


[Aslimolean MS. 208, leaf 263.] 

3[ol)n kitfebam of martin ftoblsber. 

This poem seems to have been composed by Forman in the name 
of Kirkham, a person of Avhom nothing is known. 

Youe Muses, guid my quiuering quift ; 

Caliope, drawe near ; 
Sicilian nimphes, attend my suet, 

And to ray hestes giue ear. 4 

Your sacred ayd A whyft I crane, 

mj^ shiueringe sence to staj^e ; 
such hewt exploits I take in hand. 

That men to me maye saye : 8 

Thj^ ragged rime and ruraft verse 

cannot Ascend soe hye 
To toutch the tope of martins prayes 

which fleth the hiest skie. 12 

Wher whirlinge sphers doe hit resound 

And deweshe staress containe : 
'With Thundringe Trompe of goulden fame, 

in Azure ayer soe plaine. 16 

Whose hewtie acts not heavens allone 

contented ar to haue ; 
but earth And skyes, the surging seas, 

And Silvans Eccoughes braue, 20 

Do aft resound with tuned stringe 

of siluer harraonye, 
Howe frobisher in every coste 

with flickering fame dothe flye. 24 

A raertiati" knight adventuros. 

Whose valure great wase suche, 
That hazard hard he light estemd, 

his countrie to enriche. 28 

Winhesfor Frohisher. 285 

To climb The height And heutie^ hills, n^oibk.] 

where Poets pi'oach for praise ; 
To Vewe Pernassus and etna, 

I liste not spend my daies. 32 

Nor yet to soke the water nimphes, 

nor fatait sisters three, 
Nor yeat to tett of Acteons death, 

what thaunche be chamced {sic) he.^ 36 

Nor yet to teit of Arthurs Knits, 

in force that did exceit ; 
for certainlye suche men ar dead 

of whom the Poets doe tett, 40 

god graunt to thee old Tythons age. 

And Creasus happie wealth ; 
Policrats haps god send youe to. 

And Gallons perfect healthe. 44 

but sith my wit for sakes my wilt, 

I maye not what I wold ; 
Then, pardon wit, accept good wilt. 

That wills yf soe it could. 48 

Thus will I end. And not contend 

your noble fame to scrye, 
Whose excellent grace doth far surpase 

The clear and christatl skye. 52 

To Abrams seat thy sowit shall com 

in lastinge ioyes to rest ; 
When from this earth thy sowlt shaft pase, 

The heavens it shaft possese. 56 

finis. qd. Simon forma;?. 

1 P haughty. 2 ^.]^^^ thence bechanced he. 




The following pieces are taken from a MS. volume presented 
to the University of Edinburgh by Mr. Halliwell. The contents 
appear to have been copied out by one Eichard Jackson, who 
began the book in 1623, as this date is found with his name on 
one of the opening leaves (see Notes and Queries, 5th series, 
vol. iii. p. 99). This book was at one time in the possession of 
Haslewood the antiquary, and is alluded to by Mr. Collier, 
'• History of English Dramatic Poetry," vol. iii. p. 275. 

Ficats on £iuccn CU^atictf)* 

This piece, of which a duplicate is to be found (Ash. MS. 38, fol. 
24), is the composition of John Vicars, who in his day obtained 
the reputation of perhaps the most conspicuously "bad poet." 
In Hudibras we find him coupled with Prynne and Withers (with 
the latter certainly most unjustly) as one of those who write 
against nature and their stars; nor has he escaped the caustic 
severity of Oldham. 

Vicars was born in 1582, and died in 1652. The following 
amusing account of him is given by Anthony a Wood : — 

'•■John Vicars, a Londoner born, descended from those of his 
name living in the county of Cumberland, educated from his 
infancy or time of understanding in school learning in Christ 
Church hospital in London, and in academical partly in Oxon, 
particularly, as it seems, in Queen's Coll., but whether he took 
a degree it appears not. Afterwards he retired to his native place, 
became usher of the same hospital (which he kept to, or near, 
his dying day), and was esteemed among some, especially the 
purittuiical party (of which number he was a zealous brother), 
a tolerable poet, but by the royalists not, because he was inspired 
with ale or viler liquors.' In the beginning of the civil wars he 

1 This shows that "Wood had been reading Hudibras, and did not think as 
meanly of it when it first appeared as Mr. Samuel Pepys. 
" Thou that with ale, or viler liquors, 
Didst inspire Withers, Prynne, and Vickars, 
And force them, though it was in spite 
Of Nature, and their stars, to write." 

Mwvius Vicars. 287 

sliewed himself fi forward man for the pi'esl,>3'terian cause, hated 
all people that loved obedience, and did affright many of tlie 
weaker sort and others from having any agreement with the 
king's party, by continually inculcating into their heads strange 
stories of God's wrath against the Cavaliers, Afterwards, when 
the independents began to take place, he bore a great hatred to- 
wards them, especially after they had taken away the king's life." 

A long list of his works is given in Carew Hazlitt's Handbook, 
but the recajjitulation of tliem would be a trespass upon the 
reader's patience. They are well known, however, to the anti- 
quarian, and some of them, especially the " Prodigies and 
Apparitions, or England's Warning Pieces," 1643, valued on 
account of their curious plates. 

Among the Ashmolean MSS. No. 38, 170, we find Vindicm 
Virgiliance, "Wliy, how now Masvius, art thou dabling still. 
Wrighten against John Vicars, the Usher of the Scliole at Christ 
Church Hospitall, by E. C." The piece subjoined has been 
printed before. 


Behold the pourtract of faire vertues Queene, 

Rare paragon of time, by fame still seene, 

Sweet nurse of lone, graue wisdoraes darling deere, 

Religions fortresse, fortitudes chiefe peere, 4 

Chastities lampe, faiths nourceling, eharitye, 

Constancies buUwarke, gcme of pietye, 

Delights faire arbour, pleasures pallace rare, 

Where subiects hearts were freed fro woe and care : 8 

The flower whose top foule envye nerc could crop, 

The Tree whose boughes Traytors could neuer lop ; 

A piouse Deborah to ouerthrowe 

Proud Sisera of Rome — Christ's mitred foe; 12 

The vine whose iuyce their subiects comfort gaue, 

The Rose of England florishing most braue, 

To whom since Venus deigneth to giue place 

As to the min"or of perfections grace, 16 

Whose princly, noble and heroicke mind 

Bids bold Semiramis come far behind. 

X 2 

288 James and Buchanan. 

Not chast Diana, with her nimphes most faire, 

With chast Eliza dare attempt compare. 20 

Whose learning, witt, and knowledge most profound 

Parnassus nimphs with great applause resound. 

Whose amitye what king did not desire ? 

What potent nation dreaded not her ire ? 24 

What puissant Keisar could her corage quell ? 

Who ere in ought Eliza could excell ? 

On whom as handmaides Peace and Plenty tended, 

Whose life in glory led, in glory ended. 28 

And tho grim death hath rob'd vs of this treasure, 

And she an angell in celestiall pleasure, 

Yet still on earth her neuer-dying name 

Shall propagated be by sounding fame. 32 

8he was, she is, what can there more be said ? 

In earth the first, in Heaven the second maid. 

Praise her who list, he still remaines her debter. 

For Art nere faign'd, nor Nature fram'd a better. 36 

3lames tbe jTirst. 

The character of James the First as a king has been fre- 
quently drawn, and liis manners are familiar to the general 
reader by the somewhat highly-coloured portrait of Scott in tho 
" Fortunes of Nigel." As an author he is less commonly known, 
but Ihe pupil of Buchanan, if a pedantic, was certainly a learned 
writer. Pie had not been under the eye of one of the greatest 
Humanists for nothing. His " Essayes of a Prentise in the 
Divine Art of Poesie," together with the " Counterblaste to 
Tobacco," were reprinted by Mr. Arber in 1869. They are 
deliciously quaint, and well wortli reading : his Demonology may 
also be consulted with advantage in these days of "levitating 
theories."^ The King's works were by himself presented to the 
Universities of Oxford and Cambridge. 

Tide the passage about how witches travel. 

Bac/uiNan's PropJiecy, 289 

Yerses vpo the Kings workes to Cabridge dedicated. 

Rex pater est patriae, mihi clara Academia mater. 

Thus in the deare raemoriall of my duety, 

Into the tender bosome of my mother, 
I light my father vp : let her beutye, 

Mixt Avith his strength, each day beare me a brother, 4 
And let the spring tides of their fresh delight 
Make euery minute as a marriage night. 6 

Crownes haue their cowmpasse, length of dayes their date, 

Tryumphes their torabes, felicity her fate, 

Of more then earth can earth make none partaker, 

But knowlege makes the king most like his maker. ^ 10 

Among the common-places books of fugitive verses made in 
tliG first half of the seventeenth century, and preserved among 
the Ashmolean and other MSS., we find here and there a few 
pieces assigned to James I., but on no very certain authority. As 
the King however, like Queen Elizabeth, was well known to be 
a "makir" in the Scotch sense of the word, they may possibly 
be his. In the Jackson MS. we have the following curious story : 

" Two yeares before the King died, a carbuncle being in his 
hat, and he by the fire sleeping, by chance it fell in the fire and 
was burnt. Immediately after the King called to mind two 
propheticall verses that his scoolemaster Buchanan the night 
before in his dreame appeared to him and repeated to him, the 
verses being these : 

Sexte, verere Deum, iam te tua properat aetas, 
Cum tuus ardenti carbunculus vritur igui. 

Soe he died two yeares after." 

For some pleasant papers on James as a writer, see Isaac 
Disraeli's " Inrpiiry into the Literary and Political Character of 
James the First." 

Physically weak, and the child of an unfortunate marriage, 
James passed his youth among the broils of the turbulent and 
savage aristocracy of Scotland. His early days were further 
embittered by the acrid Calvinism of the Kirk-squabbles of the 

1 The last four verses have been already printed, and contain some noble truths 

puuyciitly expressed. 

290 Queen Anne. 

country. All these experiences left a deep impression upon him : 
he became a supporter of the divine theory of kingcraft in its 
most exaggerated type, and an Episcopalian of the most approved 
constitutional pattern. In the intervals of his buftbonish sallies, 
he uttered many wise things, and showed considerable political 
sagacity. Thus he foresaw the great constitutional struggle which 
was approaching, and prophesied the mischief which Laud would 
work in the kingdom. The pageant of royalty — the very first 
principles of which were shortly to be debated — was however to 
be made ridiculous by a king whose personal cowardice, whose 
•uncouth and waddling gait, whose tedious and pedantic platitudes, 
made him an object of contempt to his Court, and were such that 
his very wife and children blushed for him. 


King James. 

(Amie, wife of James I. and daughter of Frederick II. of Denmark, died in 16iy.) 

Cara Deo, taedis clarissinia, prole beata, 
Anna soror regura, filia, sponsa, parens, 

Tu quae protrita victrix de morte tryumphans 
Manibus inuitis, Anna perenna manes, 

Quam bene prcccipitis lusisti spicula mortis, 

Aucta malo, Cristo nupta, potita Deo. 6 

The[e] to invite the great God sent his starre, 

Whose freinds, and neerest freinds, great princes are ; 

Who though they lead the race of men and die, 

Death seemes but to refine their majestie ; 10 

For did my Queene her court fro hence remoue, 

And left of earth to be enthron'd aboue, 

Then shoe's aliue, not dead : Noe good prince dies, 

But like the sun sets onely to our eyes. 14 

Henry the Ninth. 291 

An Epitaph of y'' second Alexander, Prince Henry/ 

SOONE hid fro VS by Y"^ CLOUD OF God's "WRATH : Y^ 

A tlireefould mother God the gaue, 

princely youth ! 
A royall Queene, the Church, the Graue 

Which caus'd our ruth. 4 

The Church thy mother in her lappe, 

The Queene in wombe, 
The Graue in clay thy corps doth wrappe 

In princely Tombe. 8 

The Church the made a heauenly Saint, 

A prince the Queene, 
A lifeles corps Earth doth depaint 

The to bee scene. 12 

In Church eteruiz'd is thy name : 

-She doth deplore 
Thy losse. From Graue to heauens high frame 

Thou^ once shalt soare. 16 

Ex eodem ad eundem. 

Henry the heate of all, ah his owne fire ; 

Henry braue Mars his sonne, graue Art's sweet sire ; 

Henry Art's Nourceling, and great Mars his Master ; 

Henry our glory, but by death, disaster ; 20 

Henry Rome's terror, whole world's admiration ; 

Henry our day day-star, and sun's deprauation ; 

Henry the glory of the Henries all ; 

Henry, nought grieu'd vs as thy funerall. 24 

Henry the ninth was he ? Nay nine in one 

In Henry died, the more's our griefe and moane. 26 

' For a note on this Prince, see p. 138. 

''■ Queene. 3 At y*' Resurrection. 

292 The Good Shepherd. 

The good Sheepheards sorrow for the death of his 


In sad and ashye weedes I sigh, I pine, I grieue, I mourne, 
My Gates and j^ellow reedes I now to ieate and ebon turne. 

My vrged eyes, like winter skies. 
My fvrrowed cheekes oreflowe ; 

All Heauen knowes whye ; men mourne as I, 
And who can blame my woe ? 6 

In sable robes of night my dayes of ioy apparel'd be, 
My sorrowes see noe light; my light[s]^ through sorrowes 
nothing see ; 

For now my sunne his date hath run, 
And from his sphere doth goe 

To endless bed of solded lead. 
And who can blame my woe ? 12 

My flockes I now forsake, that silly sheepe my griefes may 

And lillies loath to take that since his fall presum'd to growe. 

I envie aire, because it dare 
Still breath, and he not soe ; 

Hate earth that doth entorabe his youth ; 
And who can blame my woe ? 18 

Not I poore lad alone (alone how can such sorrow be ?), 
Not onely men make moane, but more then men make moane 
with me. 

The Gods of greenes, the mountain Queenes 
In fairie-circled row. 

The Muses nine, the Nymphes divine 
Doe all condole my woe. 24 

You awfuU Gods of skie, if sheepheards may yow question thus, 
"What Deitie to supplie, tooke yow this gentle star from vs ? 

Is Hermes fled ? Is Cupid dead ? 
Doth Sol his seate forgoe ? 

Or Jove his ioy he stole from Troy ? 
Or who hath fram'd this woe ? 30 

' light, singular in original. 

Subversion not Conversion. 293 

Did not mine eyes, O Heavens, adore your light as well before ? 
But that amidst your seven, yow fixed haue one planet more, 

Yow may well raise now double dayes 
On this sad earth below, 

Your powers haue wonne another sunne, 
And who can blame our woe ? 36 

Against the Papists : For thinking it meritoiiious id 
KILL THE King and all his Protestants, cause they 



Pise, my Muse, mournfull JMelpomene ! 

Vochsafe thine aide to thy weake Orator ; 

Distill sweet streames from thy rare Deitye 

Erst too too long hj him vnasked for ! 4 

Vrania, take thy lute, hung vp too long, 
Let posts and stones sound out my tragicke song ! 6 

O that I could in sacred Helicon, 

Or precious Nectar of Parnassus Muse 

Dip my dull pen, or from faire Citheron 

Yranias sacred skill and power could vse 10 

T' anatomize and paint to publique view 
A stratagem most horrid, strange and true. 12 

If thus^ they hope to cllmbe to Heauens high throne, 

Then with Ascesius climbe to Heauen alone. 

Now how these Jesuites censures doth agree 

With Jesus doctrine, you shall plainly see : 16 

When God with sinfull flesh vouchsaft to talke, 

Did he not vnto faithfull Abraham say, 

That if in Sodome he could find ten folke 

That vpright were, his vengeance he would stay, 20 

And for their sakes on all hee'd mercy shew ? 

But cruell Papists are more wise than soe. 
Did not the heauenly Husbandman decree. 
Considering how with wheat grew vp the tare, 24 

' A quaint marginal gloss by the scribe : If by murtliers >S: fornicatio. 

294 Loyola's Priests. 

How intricate a business then would be 
The weed to plucke vp and the wheate to spare, 
Therefore gaue charge to let them both alone ? 
But of this husbandrie Papists will none. 28 

Doth not St. PauU, doth not all Scripture teach 
That none ill ought be done, tho thence may rise 
A greater good ?^ But what tho Paul thus preach ? 
Loiolae's priests are now growne far more wise, 32 

For if that any good to the Church may grow, 
They hold it lawfuU to kill freind or foe. 
Our Sauior likewise said he came to saue, 
Not to destroy e, whom God vnto him gaue. 36 

If Christs blest kingdome of this woreld had bene 
Legions of Angells he might haue commanded ; 
But Antichrist, great Babell's man of sin. 
Must here be Lord and King, and richtly landed, 40 
Peter might not once strike in Christs defence, 
But Popish priests may vse all violence. 
O, saith our Sauiour, loue your enemies, 
For persecutors pray, blesse them that curse. 41 

But yow than Christ would seeme to be more wise, 
Or rather than vnholy pagans worse, 

For Pagans loue their friends, yow would vs slaye, 
Which fauour yow, and for your soules health praye. 48 
Oh is it possible such wrath should rest 
In Rome's vn-erring Popes most sacred brest ?^ 50 

And tho the letter seemed most obscure, 

Like great ApoUoe's Delphean misterye ; 

Our King a Joseph, — Daniell — was most sure 

T' vntwine the twist of its obscuritye.^ 54 

^ Non facienda sunt mala vt eveniant bona. 

^ Tantaene animis coelestibus irac ? Scclestibus imo. 

2 The letter which cae to Lord Mounteagle, Jaes our king interpreted. 

The Fatal Sis/ers. 295 

That rare pare-royall of true piety, 

Sweet Shedrach, Mesach, and Abednego/ 

True worshippers of Heauen's deitye, 

In whom the Lord did such a wonder show ; 58 

And certainly such w^as to vs God's grace, 
And wee well nigh in as like dangerous case. 60 

The fatall sisters Latin poets call 

Parcae, tho parcunt nuUi, they kill all, 

And Latinists the thicke wood lucus write 

Ceu nunquara lucens, wherein conies no light, 64 

Bellum, fierce war is by them vnderstood 

Ceu nunquam bonum, as nere being good. 

And by the same antiphrasis of late 

The Jesuites to themsclues appropriate 68 

The sacred nailie of Jesus, tho their workes 

Declare their lines to be far worse than Turkes. 

But euen their name, and doe their workes behold 

Their best part then will proue but drosse to gold. 72 

Doe thornes beare grapes ? or figgs on thistles grow ? 

Or the hard oake yeild tender fruit ? O noe. 

The tree by 's fruit may manifested bee ; 

On good trees good, on ill wee bad fruit see. 76 

The Jesuites doctrine who to know doth list, 

It doth of five Dees certainely consist, 

In daunting subiects and dissimulation 

Depose, disposing kings realraes, and destruction. 80 

Whether the Jesuites come more neere to those 

Which beare the armes of Christ or Mars with blowes, 

It is a question, but with ease decided. 

As thus, Christ's souldiers euer are prouided 84 

Of these blest weapons, Teares, prayers, patience. 

These foile and spoile their foes with heauenly sence : 

But daggars, daggs,^ keene swords, poisons, deceipt. 

Close fawning treasons, wiles, to couzen and cheate, 88 

1 Three children that was put in the furnace by Xabuchodonczar for not kneel - 
injr to their idolls. 

2 ristols. 

296 Amunt, Locusts ! 

These are tlie Jesuites armes, and with these artes, 

The Pope to deifye, they play their parts. 

Nor faith, nor pity, their followers haue. 

They diuellishly against Truth rage and raue. 92 

How fit those armes Loiolae's brats beseeme, 

Brytan can witnes, and the whole world deeme. 

I'le passe by sleights, all in this one, 

In this great ponder treason all were showne. 96 

Thej^'le smooth and sooth, and one thing to yow say, 

And yet their hart goes cleane another way. 

This ambiguity was Apolloe's art, 

Vnder whose name the diuell play'd his part. loo 

Even Tully may these popish priests reprehend, 

By whom such lamb-skin wolues are oft condemn'd ; 

Wlio if he now liu'd, howe 's eloquence 

AVould thunder out Loj'olae's impudence ! 104 

Satan, that subtill serpent, did them teach 

This Ij'ing art, they nere heard Christ soe preach. 

Are not these then Rome's white deuills ? Fie for shame, 

Nought but bare outsidcs, their best part their name. io8 

What was the diuell ? a lyar, homicide, 

A slie dissembler, regicide, 

And with best reason, may this Jesuite deuill 

Most properly be called the Kings euill. 112 

If then affinity of manners vile. 

If iust proportion of like fraud and guile, 

If deedes so consonant and disposition 

To practise greably may with prouision 116 

Auaile to proue a truth ; then I Magog know, 

These doe a great part of thy warfai'e showe, 

And palpably declare to the truely wise 

This offspring did from the their father rise. 120 

Avant, yow locusts ! hence, yow spawne of Hell ! 

From whose blacke smoake yow are deriu'd full well : 

If still yow will the name of Jesus take. 

Let all men know yow doe it onely make 124 

A cloake to hide your knauery, for yow are 

But gray wolues, bearing in your front a star. 

Instead of Jesus, take yow Judas' name. 

Your hatefull Hues Avill best befitt the same ; 128 

For by j'our works wee perfectly doe find 

Noe part with Christ is vnto yow assign'd. 130 


Eoticrt Ccdll. 

Egbert Cecill was a younger son of the minister Burgliley, 
and was born about 15(35. He Av^as a bitter enemy, both of 
Essex and Ealeigh, and has been previously alluded to as such 
in these pages. He was made Earl of Salisbury in 1605, and 
died in 1612. In him James lost a trusty friend, who had 
laboured much to facilitate his succession to the throne. 

Ypon the death of Robert Cecill, in Queene Elizabeth's 
RAiGNE Lord Treasurer and Master of the "VVardes 
AND Liveries. 

Poore England ! (for how can'st thou be but poore, 
AVhose losses haue enrieht the cope of beauen ?) 
How is thy wealth decayde ? Where is thy store ? 
Who of thy treasure hath the bereauen ? 
Yet maist thou tryumph in thy povertie, 
You hadst bene rich, had heaven not robbed the. 6 

Yee blessed saynts, whither haue yee convayde 
Poore England's sjduer-headed senatour ? 
To Jove's starchamber ? Be it never said 
The highest heavens wants a councellour : 

Yet never fitter man, nor fitter place, 

Since he the heavens, the heavens him doe grace. 12 

Where were ye Muses when your glory died ? 

Would not your griefe endure to see his fall ? 

Noe marvaile for his glory was your pride, 

And those his siluer haires enrieht yow all : 
Those siluer haires rich as the golden fleece, 
Which Jason with his gallants brought to Greece. 18 

Then mourne, j^e Muses, mourne and never cease ! 

Cease never till your griefe be drown'de in teares ! 

And when the wellspringes of your teares decrease 

Make ditties of his prayses for the sphaeres ; 
Soe let the man that hath the Muses raysde, 
Or Hue or dead be of the Muses praysde. 24 

298 The Winter-King. 

Twise twenty winters past, while he protected 

Our ilands elder sisters nvirserie ; 

And rose then any troubles vnexpected, 

He guarded them, like as an aged tree 

From summers heate and winters cold doth cover 
The tender lamkins and their milkie mother. 30 

How might wee send embassadours to Jove 
* To parlie for a ransome with the Gods ! 

O noe, yee Muses should haue overstrove 

The fatall sisters, having them at odds : 

Your champione slaine 5'ow tooke the foile, not hee, 
Yee beeing three to one, he one to three ! 36 

Ben. Hinton, Col. Trinit.^ 

C6e 2Hintcr=Eino:» 

These lines are on the death of the eldest son of Frederick the 
Elector Palatine. The following account of the melancholy fate 
of this young Prince is given by Mrs. Everett Green, "Lives of 
the Princesses of England," vol. v. p. 468 : — 

"The Princess Elizabeth was placed under the care of Lord and 
Lady Yere, then residents at the Hague, who watched carefully and 
affectionately over her expanding talents ; and the young heir, 
Frederic Henry, was also brought to the Hague, to be more fully 
trained in manly and military exercises. The developments of this 
Prince were already very promising. He was regarded with pride 
and hope, not only in Bohemia, where the people delighted to give 
him the title of their Crown-Prince, but in England, where, after his 
mother, he was the next heir to the yet childless King. His uncle, 
Charles I., showed bis approval of the intention of his parents to 
train him to arms, by placing him as volunteer in the army of the 
Prince of Orange. But bis opening prospects were quickly closed 
by a sudden and fatal calamity. On the ^^^th of January, 1629, the 
Prince set out with bis father on a pleasure excursion, to see the 
fleet returned from the "West Indies, in which bis mother herself 
Avas interested, as a rich piize bad been secured, of which a share 
belonged to her, by the will of the late Prince of Orange. Elizabeth 
parted from her son in buoyant and vigorous health. The next day 

1 This -writer is probably the author mentioned by Allibone (" British and 
American Auth(ns"): — "Hinton, Benjamin, Eighteen Sermons. London, I60O. 
4to." A Benjamin Hinton was Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and 
afterwards Minister of Hendon ; B.A. 159f, M.A. 1600, B.D. 1607. 

Gooilu Pahfjrave. 299 

he was brought back to her palace a corpse. The circumstances of 
his disastrous fate have been given with much difference of detail ; 
but the official record sent to England relates, that shortly before 
reaching Amsterdam, the vessel containing Frederick and his son came 
into collision with one of much larger make, and sustained so serious 
an injury that it immediately filled with water, and all on board 
perished, except the King, who was saved by the prompt efi'orts of 
one of the sailors. The tide of the next morning brought on shore 
the body of the drowned Prince."^ 

Of his studies it has been said : 

"He wrote and spoke English, French, and German. Latin he 
understood so well that his examinations in his historical studies 
were conducted in that language." — Frederick Henry to Ambassador 
Carleton, Holland Correspondence, State Paper Office. 

Frederick, a weak and incapable man, who was induced 
to hazard his ancestral territory for the crown of Bohemia, 
died heart-broken under the ban of the emjDire in 1632. The 
full record of his follies may be found in German history. While 
the battle of the White Mountain was raging outside of bis new 
capital, lie was entertaining the English ambassador at a grand 
banquet. The Winter-king faded from Bohemian history — the 
only record they keep of him at Prague is liis Bible, preserved 
in the National Museum — and died a pensionar3\ His wife 
Elizabeth, daughter of James I. — "goody Palsgrave," as the 
unfortunate libeller called her — long survived him, dying in 
London in 1G(j2. Two of her sons, Eupert and Maurice, dis- 
tinguished themselves in the Civil War, and her daughter Sophia 
was the mother of George I. 

In obitum Henrici Fredkrtci majoris natu Frederici 
coxitis palatini. 

Must it be see, iust Heauens, that still the best 

And sweetest flowers fierce stormes shall most molest ? 

Good God ! can none but cedars serue to be 

Th' vnlmppy markes of Boreas iniurie, 4 

AYhen shrubs are safe ? Must, thy Lethean cup 

Of direfuU vengeance all be drunken vp 

By thine owne servants ? yet let thy foes 

Drinke vp the dregs which are begun by those. - 8 

Must sweet Eliza's streames of griefe still flow ? 

And ioyes still ebbe ? Methinks the fates would owe 

1 True Eecital of the accident happened to the King of Bohemia, -^ Jan., 1629. 
— German Correspondence, Bundle 61, State Paper Office. 

300 Neptune's Rival 

Some loue to vertue ; or at least desist 

Soe sweet a life of blacke threed still to twist. 12 

Her brother's, mother's, father's death should be 

Surely enough to moue or satisfie 

The most revenging fates ! Yet adde to these 

The losse of husbands crowne and dignities. 16 

Alas ! 'twere well if here her woes would end, 

And angry starrs no further rage extend. 

She that lost freinds before must lose a sonne, 

And with her age her glasse of cares must run ; 20 

Water must serue for sand. The earth before 

Had lauishly exhausted all its store 

Of hateful mischeife, and the sea must now 

Conspire with earth to make afflictions flowe. 24 

Yee stir-like AVaues could awfull maiestie 

1^0 whit asswage your hoodwincked crueltie ? 

'Twas pollicie, thou trident-bearing God ! 

When azur'de wanes thou moud'st with three forkt rod, 28 

To choose the gloomie lap of clowdy night 

Least else thy rage should eartli and heauen affright ; 

Gold-haired Apollo would not daigne to showe 

His earth in lightning rayes, least he should soe 32 

Seeme to approue thy rage ; sterne Eolus 

Vn willing seemes to loose his furious 

Vnruly servants : you thy spleene to shew 

Mad'st hoarie Winter arme himselfe anew 36 

To further the, and mad'st blacke nighte effect 

That which thy wanes for pitty did neglect. 

But, Neptune, thou hast done thy worst, and now 

Expect the effects of angry mortalls woe, 40 

Thou shalt a riuall, a new welkin see 

Which brinish teares from mortalls' eyes shalbe, 

Ore which new ocean thou noe rule shalt beare, 

But sole Eliza shalbe govern er. 44 




P. 6Q. The Learning of Queen Elizabeth. — "Her wisedome was, 
without question, iu her life by any unequalled. She was senten- 
tious, yet gratious in speech ; so expert in Languages that she 
answered most Embassadors in their natiue tongues : her capacitie 
was therewith so apprehensiue, and inuention so quicke, that if 
any of them had gone beyonde their bounds, with maiestie vn- 
daunted she would haue limited them within the verge of their 
dueties, as she did royally, Avisely, and learnedly, the last strut- 
ting Poland messenger, that thought with stalking lookes and 
swelling words to daunt her vndaunted excellence." — From 
" England's Mourning Garment," reprinted by Mr. Ingleby in 
the "Shakspere Allusion-Books," p. 94. 

P. 67. For Sigismimd II. read III. — This was the Jesuit king, 
whose rule was so pernicious to the unfortunate country. 

Ibid. The suit of Anjou. — Among the Ashmolean MSS., 800, 1 , 
we have a letter from " S^ Philip Sydney to Queene Elizabeth 
concerning her marriage with Mounser." This has been already 
printed. Black, in the Ashmolean Catalogue, also quotes " A 
defence of the French Monsieurs desiring marriage with Q. Eliz., 
written by Lord Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton." This 
is in the Harl. MS. 180 : it is noticed by Walpole in "Koyal and 
Noble Authors." 

P. 68. ElizahelKs Lament. — It is only fair to add that these 
verses are also found among the Tanner MSS., where they are 
asserted to have been composed by the Queen on Essex. 

P. 68. Stiihhs' Gaping Gulf. — Of this production there are two 
copies among Douce MSS. (xlvi.) entitled " The discoverie of A 
Gaping Gulf, wherinto England is like to be swallowed by 
another French mariage, if the Lord forbid not the banes by 
letting her Maiestie see the sinn and punishment therof." Also 
(ccLix.) another copy, illustrated throughout with marginal 
notes. At the end, " Thus endeth the discovery of the Gaping 

302 Fonnan. 

Gulfe, seene in a drearae, allowed in a traimce, publisLed by 
the autority of fearefial douting, and rewarded with a common 
hyre to proferred servitours. Non credo." This last copy is 
curious, because it is supposed to be in the handwriting of the 

P. 70. Forman. — I have not attempted anything like a complete 
account of Forman and his fellow -conjurors, as the subject would 
be too lengthy for a book of these dimensions. In Ashmolean MS. 
802, 15, we have a long psalm composed by Dr. Forman, Januaiy 
19th, 1604, "to be songe at his burialle." It begins, "Assemble 
now, youe people all. Finis per Forman." He was buried at 
Lambeth 12th Sept. 1611. The editor of the Catalogue doubts, 
with apparent reason, whether the mourners would have had 
sufficient patience to chant over the deceased doctor so lengthy 
and dismal a performance. Among the Ashmolean MSS. are 
many volumes containing the names and " cases " of persons 
whose nativities were calculated by him and Lilly. 

P. 72. The Parthemadcs of Puttenham. — For all that can be as- 
certained concerning Puttenham's life, and how far it is probable 
that the " Arte of English Poesie " was written by him, I must 
refer the reader to Mr. Arber's very careful Keprint of the above- 
mentioned book. 

P. 78. Frith. — Since writing my note on this word, I have met 
with an article by Mr. Skeat in Notes and Queries (4th series, vi. 
573) denying its existence in Chaucer. So accurate a student 
of Old English cannot be wrong, and it is probably to be found 
in some piece by Lydgate, productions by whom are frequently 
to be found appended to the old editions of Chaucer. 

Ibid, {oily dame. — In the original edition of his " Day-dream," 
Mr. Tennyson ventured upon the expression " he must have been 
a jolly king." The small wits and the reviewers of the time 
forced him by ridicule (we must presume) to alter this into the 
weaker, " a jovial king." Let us hope the old reading Avill be 
restored. It is certainly amusing to look at the Quarterlies on 
Keats and Tennyson : we see how late the real study of our 
own language has been. The present enthusiasm does not count 
many years of existence : those who promoted it could be easily 
specified — and their original number was very small. We may 
now be comforted that it is in fashion : a short time ago tliose 
who ventured in these by-paths were the subjects only of fatuous 
and self-admiring raillery. 

P. 92. Bichard Tarleton. — For a biography of Tarleton — the 
Grimaldi of his time, and a great deal more — we may also go to 
Baker's Biograi^hia Dramatica, where we are told that his por- 

Prince Henry. 303 

trait was frequently made the sign of ale-houses. Baker quotes 
Hall, " To sit with Tarlton on an alepost's sign." See also the 
reference to Dr, Cave, who, speaking of him, says: '-'in cujus 
voce et vultu onines jocosi affectus, in cujus cerebroso capite 
lepidas facetiae habitant." 

P. 94. Quotation from the Play of Henry VIIL — Of course I 
have here left the question unsettled concerning the authorship 
of this iplaj. For this very interesting discussion, and how far 
Shakespere was assisted by Fletcher — a suggestion first made 
by Mr. Tennyson to Mr. Spedding — I must refer the reader to 
the Papers of the New Shakspere Society. 

P. 96. A Poem in Praise of Queen Elizabeth. — The first part of 
this piece, viz. that Avhich was merely a translation of Simonides, 
did not appear worthy of transcription. 

P. 100. Sir Francis DraTce. — Ashmolean MS. 830, 17, contains 
some official documents setting forth the depredations committed 
by Sir Francis Drake as follows : " The third voyadg of Francisce 
Drake uppon information of ye Spa. ambassador." The in- 
dorsement is in Burleigh's handwriting, and contains official 
accounts of the plunder carried off by the bold navigator. So 
also, "A summaiye relacon of the harmes and robberies done by 
Frauncis Drake, an Englishe man, w*'* the assistauntz and helpo 
of other Englishmen." Thus indorsed by Burleigh, " Franc. 
Drakes voyadg to ye Sp. Indias." Also, 19, "An abridgement 
of the relation and proves made againste S"^. Fraxmces Drake, k*., 
towchinge his doinges in the sowthe sea, beyonde the streighte 
of Magalanus." The Spaniards now began to find that their 
mare clausum was being invaded, and was to become a mare 
liherum to their British rivals. 

P. 114. In the emendation in the note, /or "Britanna" read 
" Britanno." 

P. 130. To the blessed Sainct, etc. — A dujDlicate of this is found 
in the Jackson MS. No. 9. 

P. 132. The Ansioere to the Lihell. — Of this piece a copy also 
occurs in the Ashmolean MS. 30, 37, art. 71, and in art. 72 we 
get " An answere to the Wiper-away of the People's teares," 
beginning, "Contemne not, gracious kinge, our plaints and 

P. 138. Prince Henry. — The elegies on this darling of the 
nation are numerous. See Ash. MS. 38, 323, " Uppon Prince 
Henry. Reader, wounder thinke it none." Black tells us, how- 
ever, that it has been previously printed. So also another copy, 
781, 75 ; also 96. Epitaph on Prince Hencry, " I had no vaine 
in verse." An interesting portrait of this young man is preserved 

y 2 

304 LUUaf. 

in the Bodleian Gallery : there does not appear to be any in- 
tellectual promise stamped upon the face. 

P. 192. Poems hij John Lilliat. — Lilliat has added a great many 
pieces on the sheets bound up with the copy of Watson's 
'EKarofiTraOia, a production, let me add, of very poor merit, 
and in no way justifying the exuberant praise of Mr. Arber, who 
finds in him a second Petrarch, and sjieaks of his sonnets as lost 
pearls. Lilliat has also had his name printed in many parts of 
the volume : thus the preface, commencing " John Lyly to the 
Authour his friend," is signed John Lilliat; but on comparing 
this name with other parts of the volume, we see that it has been 
added since. Among the pieces composed or copied out by the 
latter are — "A welcome to Cupid," "Dr. Goldingham his Ghost," 
"A Melancholy Passion;" also -'Lilliat, his Confused Chaos," and 
" David's Dumpe." The writer was probably a Eoman Catholic. 
As the last-mentioned poems are of no jioetical merit, and deal 
with general topics, I have not ventured to trouble the reader 
with them. 

P. 195. TJie Earl of Essex. — We can realize to ourselves how 
prominent a figure Essex was, by the abundance of fugitive 
poetry and other literature with reference to him. In answer to 
Bacon's attacks upon him, his admirers issued the following 
publication after his death : — " An Apologie of the Earle of 
Essex, against those which jealously and maliciously tax him to 
be the hinderer of the peace and quiet of his country. Penned 
by himself in Anno 1598. Imprinted 1603." 

Among the Ashmolean MSS. are the following pieces relating 
to Essex : — - 

No. 767, 1. "The buzzeing Bees complaynt. There was a 
tyme when seylley bees could speake." Besides the differ- 
ent copies mentioned on page 240, we get this new version of 
this not very meritorious poem, and also another, 781, 56. The 
piece is alluded to by Eitson, and has also been published by 
Mr. Park, in his edition of Walpole's "Eoyal and Noble Authors," 
vol. ii. pp. 109-112. (Quoted by Black.) Tanner (Bibliotbeca 
Britannico-Hibernica), 1748, makes "The buzzing bees com- 
plaint" to have been written by Essex. 767, 7, "By the Queene, 
a Proclamation declaring the treasonable attempts and practices 
of the Earl of Essex," etc. 781, 14. Letter from "The Lo : 
Keeper Edgerton to the Earle of Essex, dated 12th of October, 
1599," and (15) "The Earle of Essex answere to the Lo : 
Keeper." 16. Letter from the Earl of Essex "To the sacred 
Ma"« of Queene Elizabeth." 20. Letter from "The Lady 
(Penelope) Eich to the sacred Ma"'' of Queene Elizabeth " on 
behalf of her brother. 

JEssejT and his Part//. 


P. 196. The Winning of C'a?es.— Eawlinson MS. B. 259, 3, we 

have the following curious tract : — 

" An English Quid 

For a Spanish Quo ; 
God graunte one quajded 

This quarreling foe : 
or a true relation of the late honorable expedition and memor- 
able exployte (God so assisting) performed by her ma''^" nioste 
royall navy and army at Cadez, on the coaste of Spayne, in the 
monthes of June and July last, this yeare of Christe oure Savyour 
1596. Diligently collected, advisedly corrected, and owte of most 
credible advertizments newly and truly written owte, by Richard 
Robinson, citizen of London, anno dicto mensis Octob., fol. 47." 

P. 207. The folloioers of Essex.— In Ashmolean MS. 862, 44, 
we have the following list of the confederates of Essex (in a hand 
of the time of Queen Elizabeth) : — 


Earles. { Sussex, close prisoner. 




Knightes. -^ 




Lady Riche. 

Ferdinando Gorge (s). 

Charles Davers. 

WilPm Cunstabull. 

Anthone Pearsey. 

John Pearsey. 

John Davers. 

Gwillam ]\[errick. 

Henry Lensley. 

Xp'ofer Blunt. 

Henry Tracy slayne. 

Thomas West L. Delawares heyer. 

Henry Cari of Kent. 

Rob* Varnam. 

Joh'n Haj^doon. 

Xp'ofer Haydon. 

Edward Bagnam. 

Joh'n Litelton. 

Yeaxley Pearsey. 

Charles Pearsey. 

Jozaphell Pearsey. 

Slayu. ^ 

306 Derrick. 

r George Manners. 

Edward Michelboorne. 

Eob't Evers. 

Joh'n Throgmorton. 

Joli'n Tracey. 

Henry West of Kent. 

Kob't Warner. 

Captayn Leyceter. 

Owen Salisbvu-y. 
^ Joh'n Salisbury. 
P. 209. Ashed for the executioner. — The name of this function- 
ary has come down to us : it appears to have been Derrick. See 
note to "The Trimming of Thomas Nash" (p. 62), reprinted in 
Miscellanea Antiqua Anglicana, part ii., 1871, where the name is 
said to be found in a contemporaneous ballad. We never appear 
to have had a family to boast the hereditary honours of the 

P. 252. The Disparinge Complainfe. — Of this a duplicate is 
found among the Ashmolean IMSS. 36, 37, No. 10. It is alluded 
to by Hannah, in his " Courtly Poets," 1870, where there is a very 
complete account of poems by Raleigh, or attributed to him, and 
also relating to him. After the careful labours of this editor, 
there is very little for a belated worker in the field to glean. 
Certainly no fuller account of Sir Walter's fugitive pieces has 
ever appeared. Dr. Hannah has also noticed " I speak to such 
if any such there be," but has only quoted a small portion of it. 
Here also will be found printed the lines on page 269. It is a 
comfort to think that, although many of the jjieces ascribed to 
Raleigh are assigned to him on such dubious authority, he cannot 
be robbed of the glorious sonnet on Spenser's "Faerie Queene," 
which is his b}'^ indubitable title. Among the Ashmolean MSS., 
781, 25, we find "Letter of S-- Wa : Raleigh to his Ma"« before 
his tryall ; " also, 24, " annother of his to his Ma*'^ after his 
condemnation;" we also have (32) "Carey Raleigh's petition 
to his Ma"« for his father." 

P. 271. When you awake, dull Brittons. — A copy of this poem 
is also to be found among the Ash. MSS., 38, 14, and also in 
the Jacksonian MS. at Edinburgh. 

P. 274. For Ellesmei'e, Thomas Egerton, Bacon, read Baron. 
P. 290. Verses on Queen Anne. — Of course we must not lose 
the point of Anna perenna, wliich occurs in Ovid's Fasti, 3654, 
and is supposed to be an epithet of the goddess of the moon. 

P. 299. In obitum Henrici Frederici. — The same kind of idea 
as that at the conclusion of this piece is also found in the fol- 

Tears for ihc Queen. 307 

lowing lines, copied likewise in the Jackson MS. They have 
been printed before, but deserve quotation on accoiuit of their 
grotesque quaintness. I have seen them attributed to Dekker. 

"In reginam felicissimae memoriae. 

The Queene they rowde from Eichraond to Whitehall, 
At euery stroake salt teares the oares let fixll. 
More clung about the boate/ sith vnder water 
Wept out their eyes of pearle, and swonie blind after. 
I thincke the Bargemen might with easier thighes 
Haue rowed her thither in her peoples eyes ; 
Yet howsoe're, thus much m}^ thoughts haue scaun'd, 
Sh' ade gone by water, had she gone by land." 

The reader will observe that by an unfortunate oversight the 
name of Elizabeth's great minister is written sometimes Burley 
at others Burleigh : both forms, however, are frequently found. 

1 Pfish. 




A threefould mother God the gaue 

Alas ! to whom shuld I complayne 

Althoiighe I bee not cladd in golde 

And fyrste we wilbe gyn with ower moste welbe 

Attend awhile ,...,. 

Behold the pouctract.of faire vertues Queeue 

Campian is a Champion .... 
Cara Deo, taedis clarissima, prole beata . 

Eliza, that great Maiden Queen, lies here 
Englande ! thou haste cause to complayne . 

Good God ! what will at lenght become of vs ? 
Gracious Princesse, "Where princes are in place 
Great heart, who taught thee so to dye 
Great Verulam is very-lame, the gout of go-out 

Happy were he could [he] finish forth his fate 

I greive, and dare not shewe my discontent . 

I meruayle much at spitefuU spiders giues . 

I prepare with speed . . 

I speake to such, if anie such there bee 

I tell ye all, both great and small . 

If bleeding soules, delected heartes, find grace 

If Sa'='^ in heauen can either see or heare 

In sad and ashye weedes I sigh, I pine, I grieue. 

Is chaste Susanna in the ludges handes ? 

Is righteous Lot from sinful Sodome gone ? . 

It was a time when sillie Bees could speake . 

Kings, Queens, mens, ludgments eyes . 

Late, wearied withe my daylie toyle 
London, london, singe and praise thy lord ! . 



T mourne 





















Muses no more, but Mazes be your names . 
Must it be soe, iust Heauens, that still the best 
Myne hert is set vppone a lusty pyime 
My prime of youth is but a frost of cares. 

England, now lament in teares 
God, from sacred throne beholde 
God, from sacred throne beholde 
stay your teares, you who complaiue 

Poore England ! for how canst thou be but poore 

Remember Campione, how he died, that worthy wight 
Rise, my Muse, mournfuU lilelpomene ! . 

Sola precor vel iuncta uii-o sit Virgo Britannio 

So Lycke as your Commendacyous, by vs in all poynts hatha 

byn vzid . . 

S' Francis, S"^ Francis, S'" Francis is come 

The kinge of fFrauce shall not advance his shippes in English sande 114 

The man of life vpright whose giltles heart is free . . , 278 
The waies on earth haue paths and turnings knowne . . .251 

Thus farre the foul-mouth'd Greeke Simonides .... 96 

Thus in the deare memoriall of my duety 289 

To whome shall cursed I my case complaiue ? . . . . 252 

To wryte you comendations 142 

Vicecomes Sanctus Albanus Cancellarius Anglicanus 

What cause haue al good subiects to complayne 
What doth more glad the harts of men ? 
What yron hart that wold not melt in greefe ? 
What iron hart, that would not melt in woe ? 
What will it avayle, on fortune to exclame ? . 
When you awake, didl Brittons, and behould 
Why do I vse my paper, inke, and penne ? . 
Why doo I vse my paper, inke, and pen ? 
Within a Place, or Pallace, richlye dight 

Yf Gretians stout did right extoll 

Youe Muses, guid my quiuering quill . 

Your letter large of lewde effecte we longe synns have receyvyd 



Abbott (Dr.) informs Garnett that he 
is ordered for execution, sxxv. 

Acclamatio Patriae ; or, the Powder 
Treasons, 39. 

Albert, Archduke, Fawkes takes service 
under him, xxviii. 

Anjou, Duke of, a suitor, 67 ; irri- 
tated at the caprice of Elizabeth, 
ibid; her verses on his departure, 
68 ; his worthless character, 68 ; 
the Mounsieur from France, 98 ; 
lines on Elizabeth's projected mar- 
riage with Anjou, 1 14. 

Anne, Queene, Verses on death of, 290. 

Answere (The) to the Libell called 
The Commons Teares, etc., 132. 

Antonio, Don, 195. 

Ascham, Roger, quoted to show Eliza- 
beth's proficiency in Greek, 67. 

Ashby St. Ledgers, seat of the Catesbys 
at, xxvii. 

Aubrey on tobacco, 244:, 

Babington, Anthonye, his conspiracy, 
xi; detailsof his family, xiii; he apes 
the London dandy, xv ; he decoys 
Tichbourne, xv ; his supposed letter "to 
Mary, xv-ii ; personal description of, 
xviii ; acknowledges his secret corre- 
spondence, XX ; last letter and execu- 
tion, xxi ; his deportment on the 
scaffold, ibid ; some contemporary 
ballads concerning, xxv; the Com- 
playnte of, 5. 

Bacon, his works, 270. 

Dr. Lewis, his foolish invectiue 

against the Parliament for proceed- 
inge to censure his Lord Verulame, 
271; Latin verses on, 277; yerses 
upon his fall, ibid. 

Bacon, Verses made by Mr. Fra., 278. 

Ballard makes a tour through England, 


Barrow, 150 ; mentioned by Boorde and 
Hall, ibid. Probably Bergen -op - 
Zoom or Berchem. 

Bates, Thomas, his execution, xxxii. 

Bedford, Francis Russell, Earl of, 121. 

Bellamy, Jerome, xix. 

Bland, John, letter to,;i42. 

Boar's Head, 147. 

Bockyngam, Duke of, his lament, 61 ; 
Holinsbed's account of his sentence, 

Brief relation, a, of which happened 
in the expedition of the Lord Lieu- 
tenant Generall of Ireland, etc., 199. 

Bucklersbury, 146, full of grocers' 
shops, and in the time of Shakspere 
inhabited by apothecaries, 147. The 
Black boy in Bucklersbury, ibid. 

Burleigh, "William Cecil, Lord, 124. 

Byron, Sir John, knighted by James I., 

Camden, his remarks on the linguistic 
acquirements of Elizabeth, 67 ; his ac- 
count of the punishment of Stubbs, 68. 

Campion, Poems relating to, 157 ; bis 
life, 161 ; he lands at Dover, 162 
he is taken at Lydford, Berks, 163 
his condemnation and death, 164 
Campion, a Libell touching, ibid 
vpon the death of M. Edmund 
Campion, one of the Societie of the 
holy name of Jesus, 166; an other 
vpon the same, 173; Coniplaynt 
(the) of a Catholike for the death of 
M. Edmund Campion, 177; Verses 
in the Libell made in prayse of the 
death of Maister Campion,' 180 ; an- 
other upon the same, 185 ; the com- 
plaint of a Christian remembring 
the vnnaturall treasons of Edmund 
Campion, etc., 189. 

Candlewick Letters, The, 142 ; deriva- 
tion of the word, ibid. 

Candlewick Crew, Answer of, 153. 

Carleton, Sir Dudley, his letter on the 
execution of Garnett, xxxv. 

Catesby, history of the family, xxvii ; 
killed at Holbeach, xxxi. 



Cecil, implied by name Syuon, 205 ; 

Essex wishes to remove him from the 

Queen, 252 ; a short notice of, 297 ; 

Verses upon his death, ibid. 
Cezarins, the, 80. 
Champion, the draper, mentions of him 

and his family, 146. 
Clink, the, xiv. 
Cobham, Essex wishes to remove him 

from the Queen, 252. 
Coke, his cruelty to Garnett at his trial, 

Collier, Mr. J. P., xxiv, xxv, 92, 150, 

Cook, Mr. Thomas, in conjunction with 

]\Ir. Kidman, witnesses execution of 

Essex, 208. 
Copping, John, hanged in 1583, 104. 
Cuckoo, an allusion to Ealeigh, 250. 
Cuffe, Henry, said to have urged on the 

conspiracy of Essex, 240 ; his Poem 

on Essex, ibid ; his speech at his 

execution, ibid; what Wotton says 

of him, 241. 
Cunningham, tortured by express orders 

of James I., xxix. 

Darnley, his fate may have suggested 
the Gunpowder Plot, xxvii. 

Dekker, his Gull's Hornbook, xiv, 85, 

Derby, Henry Stanley, Earl of, 126. 

Deventer Crew, Letters, No. 1, 144; 
No. 2, 149. 

Dialogue betwene a Catholike and Con- 
solation, 175. 

Digby, Sir Everard, implicated in the 
Gunpowder Plot, xxx ; his execution, 

Disraeli, Isaac, his account of Tich- 
bourne, xxii. 

Dixon, Mr. Hepworth, his severe criti- 
cism of Garnett, xxxiv ; his opinion on 
the conduct of Bacon to Essex, 207. 

Downynge, John, letter from, to his 
friend^Bland, 142. 

Drake, Sir Francis, pleasantries on his 
name, 99, 106; chair made out of 
the ship in which he circumnavigated 
the world, ibid ; two curious pamph- 
lets illustrating his life, ibid. 

Draycot, Margery, marries Babington, 


Dunbar, 153. 

Dunsmoor heath. Gunpowder Plot con- 
spirators to assemble at, xxx. 

Dzialinski, Paul (sometimes called Paul 
Jalinus), makes a Latin speech before 
Elizabeth, 67. 

Earle, Bp. , his description of a dandy, x v. 

Earle, Mr., 112, 132. 

Effingham, Charles Lord Howard of, 

Elderton, a noted ballad- writer, 170. 

Eliot, George, betrays Campion, 169. 

Elizabeth, how she appeared to Hentz- 
ner, 69. 

Lord Saue, 92. 

A poem in praise of Queen, 96 . 

Vpon the death of Queen, 98. 

On Queene, Queene of Eng- 
land, 101. 

On Queen, Epitaph, 102. 

(Queen) Rejoycing, 112. 

Latin verses on proposed 

marriage with Anjou, 114. 

■ To the blessed Sainct of 

famose memory. The humble petition 
of her now Avretched and contempt- 
ible ye Commons of England, 130. 

Ellis, Thomas, in praise of Frobisher, 

Essex, Robert Earl of, his position at 
the Court of Elizabeth, 195; his ex- 
ploits at Cadiz, 196 ; the animosity 
between him and Ealeigh, 197; his 
unfortunate Irish expedition, 198 ; 
meeting between him and O'Neil, 
203 ; his verses sent to and abrupt ap- 
pearance before Elizabeth, 205 ; his 
rebellion, 206; trial, 207; and two 
contemporary accounts of his execu- 
tion, 208, 211 ; probably not a mere 
courtier, 214; a dance named after 
him, ibid; his children, 215; list of 
some books written on his fate, ibid ; 
verses on the report of the death of, 
217 ; a poem made on (being in dis- 
grace with Queen Eliz.) by Cuffe, 240; 
connexion between Essex and CufFe, 
ibid ; elegy on, 245 ; his delicacy to 
his friends, 246 ; the attempt to put 
Don Antonio on the throne, 247. 

. against Sir 

"Walter Rawleigh, 250. 

verses made by the Earle of, in 

his trouble, 251. 
Essex, "Walter Earl of, father of the 
above, died in Ireland, perhaps 
poisoned, 216; the song which he 
sung upon his death-bed, ibid. 



Fawkes, Edward, a notary of York, 

Fawkes, Guy, son of a notary of York, 
xxviii ; bis adventures in the Nether- 
lands, ibid ; he is tortured, xxix ; 
his desperate attitude when arrested, 
ibid; his execution, xxxiii; Williams' 
account of him and his "popishe 
trash," xxxvi. 

Forman, Dr. Simon, his curious dream 
about Queen Elizabeth, 70 ; his con- 
nexion with the mui-der of Sir 
Thomas Overbury, ibid ; he is men- 
tioned by Ben Jonson, 71 ; further 
extracts from bis curious papers, ibid; 
his poems on Warwick and Frobisher, 
279 ; extract from his diary concern- 
ing Shakspere's Macbeth, ibid. 

Forsett, placed in ambush to hear con- 
versation between Garnett and Old- 
corne, xxxv. 

Frobisher, a short sketch of his life, 281. 

Thomas Ellis in praise of, 282. 

John Xirkham of Martin, 


Furnivall, Mr., edits Laneham's letter, 
90, Boorde, 102, 150, and Percy 
Folio, 196. 

FjTies-Clinton, Edward, 117. 

Garnett, the Jesuit, hidden at Hendlip, 

abused by Mr. Hepworth Dixon, 

Gerard's Autobiography, 158. 
Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, his death, 101. 
Gondomar, Diego Sarrniento de Acuna, 

Conde de, instrumental in causing 

the execution of Raleigh, 261. 
Green, Mrs. Everett, her lives of the 

Princesses of England, 298. 
Gunpowder Plot (The), xxvi. 

Hall, Bishop, quoted, 198. 

Hall's Chronicle, 150. 

Hallam, his opinion of Essex, 240. 

Hannah, Dr.. his "Courtly Poets," 269. 

Hardiman's Irish Minstrelsy, 199. 

Hartie (A) thankes giuinge to God for 

our queenes most excellent maiestie, 

etc., 109. 
Hastings, Henry, Earl of, 101. 
Hayward, Doctor, his book on Henry 

IV. had a prejudicial effect on the 

position of Essex, 205. 
Hazlitt, Carew, 72, 192. 

Henrici Frederici majoris natu Frederici 
comitis Palatini in obitum, 299. 

Henry, Prince, allusions to, 138; an 
epitaph on y*^ second Alexander, 291 ; 
ad eundem, ibid ; the good Sheep- 
beards sorrow for the death of his 
Sonne, 292. 

Hentzner (Paul), a German, bis account 
of Queen Elizabeth, 69. 

Hinton, Benjamin, author of verses on 
Cecil, minister of Hendon, 299. 

History of the World, by Ealeigh, 261. 

Holstein, Duke of, a suitor for the band 
of Elizabeth, 129. 

Horsey, Jerome, his talk with Elizabeth 
about her wishing to learn Russian, 

Howell, James, quotation from the 
Epistolae Ho-Elianae, 261. 

Hudibras, 130. 

Humphreys, Begins Professor of Divi- 
nity at Oxford, at fii«st takes the side 
of the Puritans, but afterwards con- 
forms, 103. 

Hunsdon, Lord, 121. 

Huntingdon, Henry Hastings, Earl of, 

Irving, Washington, bis paper on Xew- 
stead Abbey, xxxviii. 

Ivan Vasilievitch (the lYth), his cruel- 
ties, 66 ; he sends a letter in Russian 
to Elizabeth, ibid. 

Jackson MS., Poems from, 2^6. 

James I., servile spirit of his times, 132; 
Waller overhears a conversation be- 
tween him and two bishops, xxxvii ; 
his character and works, 288 ; pro- 
phecy of Buchanan to, 289. 

Jonson, Ben, mentions Forman, 71. 

Kempe, G. W., bis ballad on Babington, 


Kirkham, John, of Martin Frobisher, 

Knevett, Sir Thomas, arrests Fawkes, 

Knight, Charles, his "London" quoted, 

Knightes made in Erland, 1599, by the 

E. essex, 204. 

Labanoff, Prince, quoted, xvi. 
Lee, foreman of the jury at Campion's 
trial, 169 



Leicester, Dudley, Earl of, the cele- 
brated favourite of Elizabeth, his 
conduct in the Netherlands, 102. 
See also 119. 

Lewis, Dr. William, Bacon's chaplain, 
and afterwards Provost of Oriel, 270. 

his foolish invectiue against 

the Parlaraent for proceedinge to 
censure his Lord Verulame, 271. 

Lilliat, John, some poems by him found 
at the end of Watson's 'EKaTo/xnadia, 
but nothing known of his life, was 
perhaps a teacher of music, 192. 

Lilliat, his Malecontent, 193. 

Lilly, his account of Forman, 70. 

Lingard, his list of Eoman Catholic 
sufferers, xii, also 200, 245. 

Littleton, Stephen, hides in a barley- 
mow at Hagley, xxxi. 

Littleton, Mr., said to have paid 
Ealeigh £10,000, 260. 

Lockerson, placed iu ambush to hear 
conversation between Garnett and 
Oldcorne, xxxv. 

Longfellow, his poem on Gilbert, 101. 

Marlowe, Christopher, 192, 262. 

Mawd, Arthur, his letters, 144, 149. 

Method, A, not sharply Englished, 114. 

Miracles supposed to have occurred at 
the execution of Garnett, xxxv. 

Mirror of Magistrates, the, 4. 

Montiigu, Anthony Browne, Viscount, 

Morris, Father, quoted, xvii. 

Most (To the) high and mighty, the 
most piouse and merciful!, ye cheife 
Chancellor of Heauen and Judge of 
Earthe, etc., 137. _ ' 

Mounteagle (Lord) receives mysterious 
letter, xxix. 

Munday, Anthony, 158, 159. 

Nash's Pierce Penniless, 150. 

Nau, secretary of Mary Queen of Scots, 

Neal's History of the Puritans, 103. 

Nonconformity in the time of Elizabeth, 
103 ; spread of, in the Eastern Coun- 
ties, 104 ; petition of Nonconformists 
to the Lords of the Council, 105. 

Northamptonshire, its historical asso- 
ciations, xxviii. 

Oldcorne, a Jesuit, hidden at Hendlip, 

Oriel College, Ealeigh sometime a 
member of, 260 ; Dr. Lewis, Provost 
of, 270. 

Owen, servant of Garnett, commits 
suicide, xxxiv. 

Papists, Against the, for thinking it 
meritorious to kill the King, etc., 293. 

Paradise of Dainty Devises, the, con- 
tains a poem on Walter Earl of 
Essex, 216. 

Parker, Abp. of Canterbury, sends a mes- 
sage to the Bishop of Norwich, 104. 

Parkhurst, Bishop of Norwich, favours 
the Puritans, 104. 

Paulet, Sir A., Mary's jailor, xvii. 

Pembroke, Henry Herbert, Earl of, 126. 

Pepys, Samuel, his opinion of Hudibras, 

Percy killed at Holbeach, xxxi. 

Peresonne, Paul, his letters, 114, 149. 

Phelipps deciphers letters of Babington 
correspondence, xvii. 

Pius v., his bull against Elizabeth, ix. 

Pliny quoted, 244. 

Plumber's Hall, the Puritans propose 
a meeting at, 103. 

Pound, of Cheshire (Mr.), punishment 
of, XX vi. 

Proclamations, Royal, 136. 

Puttenham, George, his praise of Eliza- 
beth's poetry, 67 ; his Partheniades, 
72 ; he is attacked by Sir John 
Harington, ibid ; he presents his 
poem to the Queen on New Year's 
Day, 1579, 73 ; his Art of Eng. Poesie 
quoted, 77; his philosophical re- 
marks, 82. 

Queue's (the) Ma. prayer at the goinge 
owt of the Navye, 197. 

Raleigh, Sir Walter, Essex meditated 
removing him from the Queen's 
Councils, 252 ; on his death, 269. 

Rawleigh, Robert Earl of Essex against, 
250 ; he is the cuckoo implied, ibid. 

■ the disparinge complainte of 

wretched, for his treacheries wrought 
against the worthie Essex, 252. 

Caueat to secure Ccurtiers, 


Reliquary, the, quoted, xix, xxi, xxii. 
Remember Campione, how he died, etc., 

Robsart, Amy, her funeral, 161. 



Eookwood, Edward, dies in prison, 

Rudolph, of Germany, one of the foreign 

Knights of the Garter, 129. 

Sainct, to the blessed of famose memory, 
etc., 103. 

Sampson, Dean of Christ Church, 103. 

Scott, Sir AV., his character of James I. 
in the "Fortunes of Nigel," 288. 

Shakspere, his account in " Henry 
VIII. " of the condemnation of 
Buckingham, 61 ; his praise of Eliza- 
beth's reign, 91; he alludes to the 
return of Essex from Ireland in 
"Henry v.," 205. 

Shirley, Mr., his theory as to the place 
■where Essex and O'Neil met, 198. 

Shrewsbury, Earl of, 119. 

Simonides, his satire on women, 96. 

Skelton, John, 153. 

Slawata, the Bohemian, presents letters 
to Elizabeth, 69. 

Southampton implicated with Essex, 
208 ; Daniel's lines to, ibid. 

Spedding, Mr., considers that Bacon 
was not guilty of treachery towards 
Essex, 207 ; importance of his edition 
of Bacon, 270. 

Spenser celebrates Elizabeth, 66 ; his 
pamphlet on Ireland, 102 ; his ac- 
count of Tanistry quoted, 203. 

Spider's Web, the, or Anacharsis say- 
inge of Solon's written Lawes, 192. 

Stalls, three vacant, among Knights of 
Garter in 1582, 129. 

Staunton, Mr., his edition of Shak- 
spere, 110. 

Stow, his account of Candlewick Street, 

Strickland, Agnes, 130. 

Stubbs, his "Gaping Gulfe," 68; he 
loses his hand, ibid. 

Strype, his Annals, 105. 

Suffolk, the copie of the petition of the 
gentlemen of, 105. 

Sussex, Thomas Ratcliffe, Earl of, 117. 

Sydney, Sir Henry, 122. 

Synon, probably Cecil, 205. 

Tanistry, explained by Spenser, 203. 
Tarleton, Richard, a noted mimus of 

the period, 92 ; his mention in the 
"Marriage of Wit and Science," ibid; 
some of his jest books, ibid. 

Teshe, Thomas, his Verses on the Order 
of the Garter, 115. 

Thacker, Elias, hanged in 1583, 104. 

Tichbourne, Chidiock, his speech on the 
scaffold, XV ; he is decoyed by Bab- 
ington into conspiracy, xxii ; his letter 
to his wife, ibid ; liis last verses, xxiii. 

Treshara tries to induce Catesby to 
abandon conspiracy, xxx ; his death, 

Tytler quoted, xvi. 

Vallenger, a ballad- writer, 157. 
Vicars, his life, 286 ; his poem on 

Queen Elizabeth, 287. 
Virginia, Raleigh attempts to found a 

colony in, 260. 

Waad, Sir William, his account of 
Tresham's death, xxxii. 

Waller, the poet, overhears a curious 
conversation between King James 
and two bishops, xxxvii ; his boast of 
tlie spread of English influence. 111. 

Walsingham, Sir Francis, his iiiti-rfer- 
ence in theBabington plot, xiii; 128. 

Warwick, Ambrose Dudley, Earl of, 120 ; 
Forman's poem in praise of, 279 ; he 
assists Frobisher, 281. 

Watson's 'KKaToixiradia. 1 60, 

Williams, Richard, his oppressive 
loyalty, xxxvi ; offers poems to King 
James, xxxvii ; grant of lands to a 
certain, xxxix; presents a petition for 
increase of pay, xxxix ; perhaps an 
old soldier who had served under 
Essex, 214. 

Wilton, Arthur Lord Grey de, 125. 

Winter accuses Lord Mounteagle of 
complicity, xxx. 

Winter-King, the, 298. 

Winthrop, John, an eminent Puritan, 

Worcester, William Somerset, Earl of, 

Wotton speaks very cautiously about 
his connexion with Cuffe, 241 ; quo- 
tations from his Reliquiae Wotton- 
ianaj, ibid.