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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.arcliive.org/details/britislibibliogra04brydiala 


z 

PREFzVCE* 


I  "KNOW  not  whelber  the  readers  of  this  work,  the  few 
who  interest  themselves  about  the  Hterary  antiquities  of 
their  country,  will  regret  to  learn  that  this  volume  closes 
the  BiUTisii  Bibliographer.  The  Editors  regret  it, 
because  the  materials  for  its  continuance  are  in  more 
ample  abundance  before  them  than  they  ever  were  be- 
fore. Increased  friends,  increased  aid,  and  the  rich 
stores  of  the  Bodleian,  unfolded  to  them  through  channels 
as  well  calculated  to  interest  and  gratify  public  curiosity 
as  flattering  to  themselves  j  the  treasures  of  Mr.  Heber, 
Mr.  Bindley,  Mr.  Utterson,  Mr.  Bolland,  Mr.  Phelps, 
and  many  others,  always  most  kindly  open  to  their  re- 
searches, cause  them  some  pain  at  quitting  the  task  of 
communicating  what  is  thus  liberally  offered  to  their 
hands.  But  reasons  of  a  private  nature,  and  a  change  of 
employment  and  incompatible  engagements  in  those  with 
whom  ihe  risk,  and  the  profit  if  any,  was  placed,  have  led 
to  this  conclusion. 

Minds  of  diiferent  talents  and  different  pursuits  will 
necessarily  have  various  opinions  of  the  utility  of  such 
publications.  Perhaps  the  Editors  are  not  more  blind 
than  their  most  witty  or  most  bitter  ccnsurers  to  all  the 
dullness  and  all  the  defects  of  the  present  v^ork.  The 
sole  question  is,  whether  it  performs  that  which  it  under- 
takes ;  and  whether  that  undertaking  is  in  itself  useful  ? 
He,  who  thinks  all  reading  dull  or  repulsive  but  modern 
books,    who    likes  no  language  but   that  of  the   last 

a  fashion. 


H  PRKFACE. 

fashion,  will  undoubtedly,  in  the  supremacy  of  his  igno- 
rant conceit,  look  upon  the  uncouth  phraseology  of  for- 
mer centuries  with  unqualified  scorn !  But  perhaps  the 
self-applauding  confidence  of  this  vivacious  critic  will 
weigh  but  a  little  in  the  determination  of  the  question  ! 
The  value  depends  on  other  qualities  than  he  can  appre- 
hend ;  and  other  principles  of  judgment  than  his  powers 
can  reach  ! 

In  what  single  library,  private  or  public,  can  be  found 
all  the  curious  volumes  which  the  British  BiiiLi&^ 
GRAPHER  has  recorded?  Or  if  they  could  all  be  found 
concentered  in  one  rich  depository,  is  there  no  use  in  ex- 
tending two-hundred-fold  notices  of  their  titles,  and 
Specimens  of  their  contents  ?  •  *'  *-^* 
'  It  is  not  impossible  that  the  greatef  part  of  the  volumes 
here  registered  may  be  already  known  to  some  of  those 
who  have  for  years  constantly  frequented  sale-rooms  of 
books  in  the  metropolis:  but  of  those  who  are  inquisitive 
6n  these  subjects,  how  few  have  leisure  or  opportunity  to 
frequent  sale-jooms  ;  and  of  these  few  how  small  a  por- 
tion have  the  desire  or  the  talent  to  collect  for  any  other 
than  a  sclfi'sh  gratification  ! 

When  the  writer  of  this  preface  looks  back  on  the 
curious  contentis  of  these  volumes,  (of  which  he  may 
be  entitled  thus  to  speak  because  scarcely  any  of  them 
prbcetded  from  himself)  he  cannot  refrain  from  pointing 
out  with  some  satisfaction,  that  patient  and  indefatigable 
industry,  which  could  by  laborious  transcription  rescue 
srpecimensof  so  many  rare  books,  before  they  passed  into 
libraries,  where  it  might  be  clifficult  to  consult,  and 
whither  it  might 'sometimes  be  not  easy  even  to  trac 
them.  For  many  -valuable  tracts,  besides  those  which 
Itickily  pass  into  the  hands  of  known  coHectors,  float  for 


k  day  dri  the;  market^  and  then  pass,  into  Sorrte -secret 
treasure  house,  where  perhaps  they  lie,  hidden  to  all. but 
the  retired  owner.  .  ;' 

tjij"  And  if  all  these  things,  wi'th  all  that  the  Biblio* 
grapher  and  Censura  Llteraria  have  endeavoured  to  rescue 
from  a  just  oblivion;  if  all,  that  the  black-letter  has 
stained  with  its  ugly  impression,"  cries  some  pert  witj- 
ling,  "  were  burnt  in  the  next  clearing  fire  of  the  metrpr 
5)olis,  what  would  literature  iose  ?  "  I  lea/e  him  to  enjoy 
the. triumphant  wisdom  of  his  question;  or  to  seek  fpjr 
pther  answerers  than  him  who  has  spent  nine  years*  iqi 
jthe  toil  of  these  pursuits  1  i  ,^.,^j|,  uiv^^im  wir  yJn'fMi 
Hereafter  as  these  relics  of  ancient. genius  and  aticiervt 
Jearning,  or  ancient  pedantry,  these  examples  of  the 
progress  of  language,  these  mernorials  of  lofjg  past  man-r 
iiers  and  customs,  become  every  day  more.rare  and  diffi-i 
cult  of  access,  the  British  Bibli.ograjpher,  which  has 
collected  so  many,  notices  apd  exiif^Gts  of  them,  will  at 
least  continue  to  possess,  ari  interest  and^an,vx?q,  of  which, 
they,  whose  approbation  ia  mogt  to  be  coveted,  J^iave  air 
ready  had  the  candour  to  give  it  the  credit. 
.  ,If  the  Editors,  attracted  by  t^e, curiosity  pf  thesubject^ 
have  dealt  rather  in  extracts  than  in  original  criticisms, 
they  do  not  think  they. have  performed  a  less  useful,  be- 
cause it  has  been  a  more  hunible  task.  'As  J  long  as  thf 
materials  forced  themselves  ii>:  such  a,tlwP^aoce  oiji  ^hejL^  i 
hands,  their  time  has  been  tootmuch  occ^jpied  in  gath^r^  j 
ing,  to  allQW  tbem  leisuife  to  build  with.thetru,  Let  1 
those  whp  fi,nd  these  pages; dry  and  repuisive',  apd.devoicl 
of  data  for  interesting  reftsctionj,  keep  ajpqf  fson)  them  1 
They  are  not  arrived  at  th^t  degree  of  njpntal  cultivation 
and  curiosity  whi.ch  ^^tsjl|i^ip  fpf^  these  sludifis,!  .,,   ,  raiti 

^>uvjU  For 


IV  PKEEACE. 

For  the  Bibliography  of  old  English  poetry,  whic^  had 
been  begun  by  William  Oldys,  had  been  pursued  by 
Thomas  Warton  and  Bishop  Percy,  been  continued  by 
George  Steevens  and  Edmund  Malone,  and  taken  up 
with  minute  labour  and  dry  perseverance  by  Joseph 
Ritson,  very  ample  and  not  easily  exhausted  matter  may 
be  found  in  the  Censura  Litcraria,  and  in  the  present 
work. 

During  the  period  that  these  works  have  been  passing 
the  press,  the  spirit  of  research  in  this  line  has  increased 
to  a  degree  which  has  excited  much  wonder,  and  some 
ridicule.  The  mania  may,  in  some  instances,  raise  a 
well-founded  smile  ;  but  that  its  effects  have  been  alto- 
gether beneficial  to  literature,  I  cannot  doubt.  An 
imdistinguishing  admiration  of  that  which  is  old,  and  a 
desire  of  possessing  rarities,  which  arises  from  a  mean 
vanity,  are  foibles  which  may  be  condemned,  but  are  of 
little  injury  to  the  public.  On  the  other  hand,  the  ad- 
vantages to  literature,  derivable  from  this  curiosity,  are 
numerous  and  permanent.  If  the  labours  of  the  present 
Editors  have  contributed  to  that  curiosity,  the  retrospect 
will  amply  repay  them  for  the  years  consumed  in  the 
pursuit. 

'  If'  ever  a  full  Bibliographical  Catalogue  of  English 
Literature,  up  to  the  close  of  the  17th  century,  which 
is  at  present  a  most  important  desideratum,  shall  be 
executed,  the  Censura  Literaria,  combined  with  the 
labours  of  Wood,  Tanner,  Ames,  Herbert,  Warton,  and 
Dibdin,  will  go  far  in  furnishing  the  necessary  materials. 

Nor  will  a  candid  and  reflecting  judgment  refuse  to 
admit,  that  something  has  been  added  to  our  national 
stores  of  intellect  by  the  entire  reprints  which  have 
formed  part  of  the  present  miscellany.    The  Paradise  of 

Dainty 


PREFACE.  T 

Dainty  Devises,  England's  Helicon,  Tusser's  Five 
Hundred  Points  of  Good  Husbandry,  in  their  original 
text ;  with  John  Higgins's  part  of  The  Mirror  for  Ma- 
gislrateSf  all  of  them  books  of  uncommon  rarity  and 
great  intrinsic  merit,  have  opened  to  the  literati,  who 
are  inquisitive  in  this  department,  treasures  which  had 
hitherto  been  sealed. 

*'  Thus  to  reply  to  anticipated  objections,  thus  anxiously 
to  insist  on  some  faint  praise,  does  it  betray  a  firm  con- 
sciousness of  having  endeavoured  and  deserved  well?'* 
Such,  probably,  will  be  the  question  of  the  reader,  who 
is  petulant  and  captious  !  For  the  author,  who,  whether 
in  the  higher  walks  of  genius,  or  the  more  humble  path* 
of  compilation,  appears  calm  in  the  confidence  of  his 
own  well-meant  exertions,  knows  little  of  the  ingenuity 
of  envy,  or  the  liveliness  of  malicious  degradation  i*  t'VM-r 

It  may  not  seem  very  presumptuous  to  aim  at  a  re- 
putation similar  to  that  of  the  well  known  Thomas 
liearne.  Yet  his  celebrity  is  surely  not  altogether  un- 
enviable, whose  works,  comprehending  voluminous  ma- 
terials of  solid  information,  are  every  day  rising  in  value, 
and  are  become  the  necessary  ornaments  of  every  rich 
library.* 

The  present  work,  of  which  much  of  the  matter  could 
never  probably  again  be  re-assembled,  and  of  which 
scarcely  more  than  150  complete  sets  can  exist,  will 
scarcely  lose  its  price  with  the  progress  of  time.  The 
Censura  JLiteraria^  if  by  any  chance  a  copy  comes  into 
the  market,  fetches  much  more  than  double  its  original 
cost.  That  a  fate  not  less  flattering  will  attend  the 
British  Bibliographer  we  cannot  doubt.  ^ 

It  is  easy  to  plan  out  schemes  of  ideal  perfection;  to 

*  The  set  from  the  library  of  Mr.  Willett  of  Merly,  all  large 
paper,  fetched  405/.  2/.  (td.     They  consisted  of  3a  lot*. 

design 


Vi  -PREFACE. 

•design  a  work  in  which  all  the  perseverance  of  laborious 
inquiry  and  patient  transcripts  shall  be  united  with  all 
Ihe  grace  of  taste,  and  all  the  rich  eloquence  of  genius  ; 
in  which  the  plodding  hand  that  collects  the  rude  ma- 
terials shall  shape  and  combine  them  iitto  forms  of  just 
proportion  and  exquisite  beauty,  or  imposing  magnifi- 
cence !  But,  to  plan  and  to  perform,  to  suggest  schemes, 
and  to  execute  them,  are  immeasurably  different  1  Even 
Warton,  with  great  learning,  great  taste,  and  strong 
powers  of  original  and  nice  criticism,  united  (I  wiH 
venture  to  add,  in  defiance  of  some  strange  cavillers), 
with  great  and  powerful  genius,  suffered  the  vigorous 
faculties  of  his  digesting,  discriminating,  and  creative 
mind,  to  be  oppressed  and  overlaid  by  the  weight  of  the 
heavy  materials  which  incumbered  him.  Even  he  couW 
not  always  move  like  a  master  under  his  load.  .      \.t 

^.JA  hn  true  that  too,  many  readers  require  to  be  taught 
how  to  think  and  to  judge  !  It  is  not  sufficient  to  give 
.them  specimens,  and  leave  them- to  form  their  own  opi- 
nions. Trite  criticism,  and  remarks  sometimes  super* 
ficial,  and  sometimes  deeply  erroneous,  might  fill  pages 
jof  plausible  comnicnUiry  without  any  great  expence 
either  of  time  or  talent  to  the  writer.  But  are  these  the 
idlenesses  to  whibh  a  wise  man  will  either  commit- his 
name,  or  consign  his  pen  ?  Better  a  thousand  times  is 
the  plodding  task  of  copying  the  dullest  extracts,  to 
.which  time  has  given  an  adventitious  value!  These  the 
|>rofound  antiquary,  the  philosophic  investigator  of  an- 
cient language  and  ancient  manners,  will  know  how  to 
^appreciate  ;  while  the  praise  or  the  jest  of  the  flippant 
lover  of  the  piquant  style  of  miodern  criticism  may  bt 
^treated  with  equal  indifference!  juu  ii{-*<i  fj  \*ti'j  in  a 

Is  there  any  one  who  wishes  to  know  with  what  de- 
gree of  reluctance  the  editors  resign  a  task  in  which  they 
-  .    ;       >  have 


PREFACE.  Vil 

have  been  so  long  engaged  ?  It  cannot  be  supposed,  that 
either  of  them  wants  employment ;  that  he  has  no  other 
literary  amusements  which  invite  his  attention  1  They 
quit  their  work  with  a  sigh,  because  they  are  convinced, 
that  its  use  is  not  insignificant,  and  its  discontinuance 
will  be  a  loss  ;  for  it  cannot  be  necessary  to  declare,  that 
their  views  have  been  the  most  remote  from  mercenary, 
and  that  their  labours  have  been  solely  prompted  by  a 
desire  to  promote  this  department  of  Bibliographical 
knowledge.  The  writer  of  this  Preface  may  be  forgiven 
for  here  asserting  of  his  coadjutor  Mr.  Haslewood,  that 
his  union  of  arduous  and  inextinguishable  industry  with 
opportunities  created  by  his  long  experience  in  this  pur- 
suit, have  given  him  the  power  of  preserving  numerous 
literary  memorials,  beyond  what  is  ever  likely  again  to 
be  rivalled,  or  even  imitated  1 

It  is  highly  consolatory  to  the  Editors,  that  their  last 
number  is  filled  with  matter  so  rich  and  so  curious,  that 
no  candid  judges  can  suspect  them  of  exhausted  stores ! 
The  first  article  of  that  number,  from  the  pen  of  one  of 
the  most  eminent  ornaments  of  that  illustrious  Univer- 
sity, in  which  he  justly  holds  so  conspicuous  a  station, 
may  be  fairly  pointed  to,  for  a  justification  of  language, 
that  some  may  deem  arrogant  1  On  this  account,  if  on 
no  other,  the  Editors  again  heave  a  sigh,  that  here  closes 
the  British  Bibliographer! 

S.  E.B. 

Dec.  iz,  1813. 


DIGESTED 


DIGESTED  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

ARRANGED  CHRONOLOGICALLY. 


POETRY, 


Battle  of  Finsborough,  Anglo  Saxon  poem          •  ..261 

Lay  of  Dame  Sirith              ..               ..              ..              ..  ..  igs 

Fragments  of  a  Metrical  Romance  upon  Guy,  Earl  of  Warwick,  n.  d.  26it 

SirCleges,  M.  S.     .              .              ..              ..             ..  ..17 

King  and  the  Hermit                ..                  ..                  ..  ..81 

Metrical  Account  ot  proceedings  at  Oxford  on  the  divorce  of  Henry 

VIII.  and  Q.  Catharine,  by  William  Forest                 ..  ..  200 

Merry  Play  of  John  the  Husband,  Tyb  his  Wife,  and  Sir  John  the 

Priest,  by  J.  Hey  wood,  1533                 .                     ..  ..  lis 

Poem  by  Lord  Morley                  .                 .                   .  ^  ..107 

Chevy  Chace,  the  author  of            '. .                ,,             .,  ..97 

Chaunt  of  Richard  Sheal                ..                 ..             ..  ..  99 

Bannatyne  Manuscript                         ..            .-                   ..  ..  183 

Jnedited  Poem, by  John  Wallys,  (l55o)          .              ..  ..  133 

Gentilness  and  Nobility,  by  J.  Hey  wood  n.  d.                 ..  ,.  a7« 

"Epitaph  of  Sir  Thomas  VVyatt,  n.  d.                 ..               ..  .  310 

Path  way  to  the  Tower  of  Perfection,  by  Myles  Huggarde,  1554  .  67 

Fiowersof  Epigrams,  by  T.  Kendall,  1577          •                  ••  ••  150 

EnaTOjUTTaflja,  or  Passionate  Century  of  Love,  by  Thomas  Watson, 

n.  d.                        ,              ..                  ..                  ..  ..  1 

Poems  by  Sir  Richard  Maitland,  M.  S.                              .  ,.114 

Pleasant  Conceit,  penned  in  verse,  by  T.  Churchyard,  1593  . .  259 

Babilon,  by  William  Lisle,  1596             ..                    ..  ..  382 

Fortunate  Farewell  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  by  T.  Churchyard,  1599  .  345 

Hyrnns,  or  sacred  Songs,  by  Alex.  Hume,  1599               ..  ..  294 

Miracle  of  Peace  in  France,  translated  byJosuah  Sylvester,  1599  ••  220 

Loni;ing  of  a  blessed  Heart,  by  N.  Breton,  1601         .            . .  . .  356 

Willobie,  his  Avisa,  1605         .              ..              ..           ..  ..  241 

AAiJjNIS  nOArSTE*ANOS,  by  SirOeo-Buc,  X605     .}  ..  305 

Ariosto's  Satires,  by  Rob.  Tofts,  1608               ..                ..  ..  393 

On  the  Death  of  Prince  Henry,  &c.  by  James  Maxwell,  1612  . .  50 
EpiceJe  or  Fuoeral  Song,  on  Prince  Henry,  by  George  Chapman, 

1612                              ....                   ..  ..  30 

Great  Britain's  Mourning  Garment.  1612             .                 j^  . .  37 

Cypress  Garland,  by  Hugh  Holland,  1625         .             .  . .  168 

Fugitive  Poetry,  by  Lord  Falkland,  n.  d.             . .                  . ,  . .  06 

I-achrymae  Musarum,  by  R.  B.  1650              ..                  ..  ..  184 

Poems,  by  Thomas  Stanley,  1651             ,.                 ,.  ..  360 

Hippolitus,  translated  by  Edra.  Prestwich,  1651               ..  ..  122 

The  Shepheard's  Holiday,  by  William  Denne,  M.  S.  1651  ..  341 

Divine  Poems,  by  Thomas  Washbourne,  1654         ..         .3  ..  45 

Parnassus  Bicq)S,  by  Ab.  Wright,  1656              ..              ,.  ..  35? 

Effigies  of  the  German  Gisnt,  16(30                ..                .,  ..  270 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Lord  Rivers's  Diets  and  Sayings  Imp.  by  Caxton,  1477         •  •  •  237 

Caxton'sCato  Magnus,  1483             .           .                 .,  ..  323 

Dives  and  Pauper,  1493              .             .         ..               ..  ..  129 

Polichronicon,  1495          .                    ,                   ..               .,  ..  348 

Contemplation  of  Sinners,  1490             .             .              ..  •.  219 

Introduction  of  Knowledge,  by  Andrew  Boord.    Imprinted  by  W. 

9"P'an<l            ,.  ..  19 

Cbioniclec 


X  CONTENTS. 

Chronicles  of  England,  1528             ,                  ..  .»             ..  n» 

Capgnive's  Lives  of  the  Saints,  1316         .              ..  ..             ,.  3*4 

Primer  of  Salisbury,  1533                 ..                   ..  ..              ..  138 

Sermon  tit  St.  Cyprian,  by  Sir  Thomas  Eliot,  1534  ..              ..  1  xj 

Lamentation  of  seditious  Rebellion,  lj36             ..  ..           ..  2bi 

Remedy  for  Seilition,  1535          .              ..              ..  ..          ..  282 

Answer  to  the  Traitors,  1 538          ..               ..  .,              ..  OHl 

Declaration  as  to  the  Scots,  1 542             .              .  ..           ..  '2^5 

Chronicle  of  John  Hardinp,  1543                 ..  ..                ..  132 

Toxophilus,  by  R.  /Vschjm,  154  5               ..  ..                  ..  20(J 

Bartholomews  de  i'ropfictatibus  Rornm,  M.S.  ..               ..  107 

Caveat  for  Common  Cursitors,  by  T.  flarnicm,  1 57s  •              ..  syi 

Golden  Bock  of  the  Leaden  Cods,  l)y  Stcplitn  Batman,  1577  ..  40 

Stratiotiros,  by  Thomas  Digges,  1  j7'J                  ••  ••          ..  •''■2 

Sivqila,  Too  good  to  be  True,  by  T.  L"ptoii,  1 5S0  . .               . .  1 4S 

Book  of  Christian  Prayers,  1581          ...  ..              ..  20fl 

Three  godly  Sermons,  by  Thoma?  Drant,  15S1          .  ..          ..  1/3 

Planetomachia,  by  H.  Greene,   j.ttsj                ..  ..                ..  3oS 

Honourable  Reputation  of  a  SoKliei ,  by  Geo.  Whetstone,  i:>H5       . ,  1 70 

"F.phemerides  of  Phialo,  by  Stephen  Gos-son,  i.'i'tfl  . ,               .,  2),i) 

Ceiisuie  of  a  Loyal  Subject,  by  George  \Vhet.>t<<iie,  (about  I5b0)    .,  1-jo 

Treatise- upon  Recreations,  by  Dudley  Fciiner,  15 b7  ..              ..  22* 

Pantomctria,  by  Thomas  Digges,  1591               ..  ..               ..  J  J 

Our  Lady's  Return  to  England,  by  H.  R.  1502  . .                 . .  50 

Hypnerotomachia,  1592          .              .               ..  ..              ..  285 

Report  of  the  Daptism  of  Prince  Frederick  Henry,  1594  .           ..  319 

Conimendn ion  of  Cocks  and  Cock-fighting,   itJOJ  ..               ..  318 

Belman  of  London,  by  T.  Decker,  1608       .  ..                 ..  293 

Search- for  Money,  by  W.  Rowley,  1609            ••  ..              ..  SiQ 

Old  Met;  of  Herefordshire,  for  a  Maid  Marian,  )Ci09  . .              . .  3\:0 

Remembrance  of  Robert,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  1612  ..              ..  20s 

Mythomystes,  by  H.  R.  n- d.          ..                  ..  ..              ..3  73 

A  Strange  Horse-race,  by  Thomas  Decker,  1G13  ..              .,  340 

M.  Dering's  Works,  I614                 ..                  ..  ..             ..371 

Alcida,  Greene's  Metamorphosis,  if>i7          ..  ,.               .,  37a 

Honour  in  his  perfection,  by  G.  M.  lf)24          ..  ..               ..  3go 

New  Year's  Gift  of  Lady  Parvula,  l6o5               ..  ..               ..  278 

Mars,  his  triumph,  1039                  ..                  ..  .,          ..  35y 

Historyof  Philosophy,  by  Thomas  Stanley,  Ifi55  .          .          ..  'SCO 

Tan  Years  Travels  in  Europe,  li-c.  i'y  R.  Klerkno,  n.  d.         .          ..  J-i3 

Entertain mejit  at  Rmland  House,  by  Sir  W   O'Avenant,  lf«67  . .  234 

Graphice,  the  use  of  the  pen  and  pencil,  by  Wm,  Saiidcisi;u,  1658  .  '-^ti 

ROMANCES,    &,C. 

On  Romance  and  Minstrelsy            .    .            ..  ..               ..377 

Arthur  of  Biit;iin,  by  Lord  Bcrntrs,  n.  d.         ..  ..          ..  02s 

Greene's  Farewell  to  Folly,  ISoi             ..              ..  ,.          ..  l5o 

<3ue<n  of  N'dvurre'.i  Talcs,  1 'iy7              ..                .,  ..          ,.  366 

Pair  o(  Turtle  Di.ves,  by  R.  Giccne,  jtoti          .  ..               ,.  2io 

Amailisol  Greece,  I6g4           .....              ..  ..          .,  1^7 

EXCE.'iPTA. 

Old  Madrigals                ..                  ..                 ..  ..        48,  3fifi 

Account  of  Dr.  Rawlin&on's  M.S.  S.         ..          ..  ..          ..  73 

niBLIOCliAPHIANA. 

CaTa!n;-iic  of  early  ScDtish  Poets            ..              ..  ..         ..  300 

L'tc  of  Shirley             ..              ,.              ,.               ..  ,.            .  ,  xi 

— — Skdioa             ..            ..             .,              ..  ,,  '           ,',  3j|0 


«t: 


lacobu.s   Slierl^us 


m 


XI' 

.Memoir  of  James  Shh'ley.  . 

In  a  former  number  we  gave  a  portrait  of  this  poet  and  emi- 
nent dramatic  writer,  and  we  appropriate  the  little  space  left 
at  the  conclusion  of  the   Preface  to   give  a   liasty  and  brief 
sketch  of  his  life.     He  was  born   near  the  Stocks  Market  in 
the  city   of  London,    about   15f)4,    and    probably  descended 
from  an  antient  family  in  Sussex.     He  was  educated  at  Mer- 
chant Taylor's  Hall,  and  removed  to  St.  John's  College,  Ox- 
ford. Afterwards  leaving  this  university  without  a  di-gree,*  he 
was  entered  of  Catherine  Hall,  Cambridge,  and  studied  there 
several  years,  having  for  his  conteinporyry  Thomas  Bancroft, 
the  epigrammatist,  who  has  recordt;d  the  circumstance  in  one 
of  his  epigrams.   1(539,  qto.  ^-  '•   ^'^P-  '^.f    At  this  university 
he  probably  obtained  a  degree,  and  atu^r  entering  into  orders, 
held  some  prefernKnt  near  the   lown  of  St.  Albans.     Being 
unsettled  In    iiis  principles,  he  Mfierwanls  changed  his  religion 
for  that  of  Rome,  and  having  resigned    his  living,  taught  a 
grammar  school  at  St.  Albans ;  but   tinding  this  employment 
uneasy  to  him,  he  left  it  for  the  metropolis,  where  he  resided 
in  Gray's  Inn,  and  commenced  dramatic  writer.     In  this  new 
undertaking  he  not  only  obtained  a  considerable  livelihood, 
but  WHS  respected  and  encouraged  bv  persons  of  quality,  and 
particularly  by   the  queen  of  Charles  I.  who  made  him  her 
servant.-    Upon   tiie   breaking  out  of  the  rebellion,   he  was 
forced  to  leave  London,  with  his  wife  and  children,  and  ap- 
pears to  have  served  in  tlie  wars  upon   the  invitation  of  his 
patron  the  Duke  of  Newcastle.     When   the  king's  cau'?e  de- 
clined, he  again   contrived  to  take  up  liis  residence  obscurely 
in  London,  where  he  was  assisted  by  his  friend  Thomas  Stan- 
ley, and  afterwards   re-established  himself  as  a  schoohnaster 
in  Whitefricirs,  and  educated  s-everal  eminent  men.   At  iengih 
when  about  72  years   of  age   he   was  driven,  with  his  second 
wife  Frances,  from  his  residence  near  Fleet-street,  by  tlie   tire 
of  London  in  lO'ot),  and  took  refuge  in  the  parish  of  St,  Giles's 
in  the   Fields,    where  being  oveicome  wilh  afi'right  at  their 
miseries  and  losses,  they  both  expired   in   one  day,  and  were 
buried  at  St.  Giles's  Church  the  'iQth  October  KiO'O'.J 

As  an  author,  he  appears  by  one  of  his  poems  to  have  writ- 
ten as  early  as  l6l(.),§  and  his  prolific  muse  produced  for 
the  stage  not  less  than  forty-four  dramatic  pieces.j|  p'our  of 
these  are  mentioned  by  Langbainc,  as  performed  in  his  time 
at  the  King's  house,  and  the  Duke's  theatre  in  Little  Lincoln's 
•  Inn  Fields,  i.e.  Portugal-row.  In  thespecim.ens  selected  by 
Mr.  Ellis  (vol.  iii.  p.  132.)  occur  those  'oeauiiful  lines  from 
the  "Contention  of  Ajax  and  Ulysset  for  the  armor  nf  jfichilhs" 
beginning    "  The  glories  of  our  blood  a?id  stale,"  and  which 

*  Wood's  Alh.  0x071.  Vol.  I.  cq!.  376.  •]•  Oldys'  Notes  on 

Langbains.  -f-  Wood  ut  sup.  \  He  occasion.iUy  v/as  joined 
by  Chapman,  &c.  For  an  enumeration  of  his  pieces  see  the  forth- 
comitig  work  called  the  Prompter,  p.  85.  §  Oldys.  ||  Account  of 
Dramatick  Poets,  p.  475. 

01dy» 


Oldys  says  "  is  the  fine  song  which  old  Bowman  (the  actor 
used  to  sing  to  K.  Charles,  and  which  he  has  often  sung  t 
me."     Had  Shirley  left  no  other  record  of  his  pen  than  th 
concluding  stanza,  his  name  would  not  have  perished  : 
The  garlands  wither  on  your  brow  : 

Then  boast  no  more  your  mighty  deeds  I 
Upon  death's  purple  altar  now 

See  where  the  victor-victim  bleeds  1 
Your  heads  must  come 
To  the  cold  tomb. 
Only  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweety  and  blossom  in  the  dust. 

"We  have  seen  announced  a  complete  edition  of  his  works* 
and  scarcely  know  any  writer  more  deserving  the  attentiou 
and  patronage  of  the  literary  world. 

Besides  his  plays,  he  published  a  volume  of  poems  in  l646 
21""°,  and  we  also  see  a  reference  to  Shirley's  Guide  to  Childreit 
in  the  Principles  of  Grammar,  Lond.  iQQO,  8vo.  probably 
by  him,  unless  there  has  been  some  mistake  in  referring  to  a 
work  from  which  we  shall  give  an  unnoticed  poem  of  his 
writing. 

'Vhis  Poem  of  Shirley  is  to  be  found  in  an  obscure  little 
volume,    by   Francis  Haickins,  entitled  Youth's  Behaviour, 

"  Li  Laudcm  Autkoris. 

"  Though  here  be  wonder  when  'tis  known, 

A  childf  should  make  this  work  his  own, 

(Since  he  that  can  translate  and  please 

Must  needs  command  two  languages) 

Yet  this  is  nothing  to  the  rest 

Of  treasure,  which  this  little  chest 

Contains,  and  will  in  time  bring  forth,. 

To  call  just  volumes  of  his  wortfi. 

If  thus  a  branch,  what  will  he  be 

When  he  is  grown  to  be  a  tree  ? 

So  glorious  in  the  bud,  let  men 

I>ook  for  th'  Hcsperides  again  j 

i\nd  gather  fruit,  nor  think't  unfit 

A  child  should  teach  the  world  more  wit. 

James  Siiui(LEY. 

*  Youth's  Behaviour,  or  Decency  in  Conversation  amongst 
Men.  Composed  in  French  by  grave  persons,  for  the  use  and 
benefit  of  their  youth.  Now  newly  turned  into  English  by 
Francis  Hawkins,  nephew  of  Sir  Thomas  Hawkins,  translator  of 
Causoin's  Holy  Court.  With  the  addition  of  a6  new  precepts, 
written  by  a  grave  author,  &c.  The  9th  impression,  &c.  London  j 
printed  for  W.  Lea,  &c.  1668,  small  8vo. 

f  By  the  Preface,  it  appears  that  he  was  only  eight  years  old  ; 
and  that  he  was  son  of  Dr.  Hawkins  ;  and  that  it  was  first  pub- 
lished 25  years  before.  His  uncle  Sir  Thomas  was  of  Ncsh  Coit 
in  Bougbton  under  Blean,  co.  Kent. 


3Sriti0|)  MUiosxsip^n* 


N°.   XII. 


I  7'i^e  EKATOMHAOIA  or  Passionate  Centurie  of  Loue^ 
divided  into  two  parts :  whereof,  the  first  ejrpresseih 
the  Authors  suffei  ance  in  I^oue :  the  latter,  his  long 
farewell  to  Loue  and  all  his  tyrannie.     Composed  by 

.  Thomas  Watson,  Gentleman ;  and  published  at  the 
request  of  certeine  Gentlemen  his  xery  frendes.  L,on' 
don,Jmprintedby  John  Wolfe,  for  Gabrietl  Cawood, 
dwellinge  in  Pauleys  Churchyard  at  the  Signeofthe 
Holy  Ghost. 

This  title  page  has  no  date.*  It  is  within  an  orna- 
mented wood-cut  border.  The  volume  is  a  very  thin 
4to.  with  one  sonnet  on  every  pig:e.  It  is  dedicated  to 
Edward  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxenford,  &c.  followed  hy 
an  address  "  To  the  frendly  reader."  Then  comes  a 
prose  letter  from  "  John  J^yly  to  the  authour  his  freind.'* 
This  is  succeeded  by  "  Authoris  ad  Libellum  sjium 
Protrepticon,"  46  hexameter  and  pentameter  lines. 
Now  follow  the  commendatory  verses,  which  are  these  : 

1.  A   Quatorzain   in   the  commendation  of  Master 
Thomas  Watson,  and  of  his  Mistres,  for  whom  he  wrote 
this  book  of  Passionat  Sonnetes,t  sii^ned  G.  Bucke, 
'2.  To  the  Authour,  sisrned  1\  Arheley. 

S.  An  Ode  written  io  the  Muses  concerning  this  nxu 
ihowx^  %\^ni^i\  C,  Downhalus.  Also,  Ejnsdera  aliudde 
authore  ;  18  hexameter  and  pentameter  verses. 

♦  The  work  is  entered  on  the  Stationer's  Books,  158  K 
t  Reprinted  in  Gent.  Mag.  Ixviii.  p.  904.  and  Theatr.  Poet 
p.2U. 

Vol..  IV.  B  4.  Lines 


2 

4.  Lines  beginning 

*'  It's  seldom  seene  that  Merite  hath  his  due." 
signed  M.  Roijdon, 

5.  To  (he  Aulhonr,  signed  G.  Peele. 

Then  comes  "  A  Quatorzain  of  the  Autbour  unto  this 
his  booke  of  Love-Passions.'* 

On  the  next  page  the  sonnets  begin. 

The  author  was  a  native  of  London,  and  educated  at 
Oxford,  M hence  he  returned  to  the  metropolis  and 
studied  the  law.  He  also  wrote  Meliboeus^  a  Latin 
eclogue  on  the  death  of  Sir  Francis  Walsingham,  1590, 
4(o.  Amintae  Gatiidia  in  hexameter  verses.  Lond, 
4to.  1592.  He  also  translated  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles, 
1581 — and  Englished  a  set  of  Italian  Madrigals,  pub- 
lished by  Bird,  1590.  Meres  has  compared  him  with 
Petrarch.  In  his  Latin  address  ad  Libellura,  he  speaks 
of  his  cotemporaries  Sydney  and  Dyer,  as  of  simi- 
lar fame;  and  expresses  his  own  dependence  on  the 
house  of  Vere. 

*'•  Hir  quoque,  seu  subeas  St/dncei,  sioe  Dyeri 

Scriiiia,  qua  Musis  area  bina  patet ; 
Die  te  Xeniolum  non  diuitis  esse  clientis, 

Confectum  Dryadis  ar(e,  rudique  manu, 
Et  tamen  exhibitutn  Vero^  qui  magna  meretur 

Virtutt',  et  Terauobililate  sua. 
Inde  serenato  vuUu  te  miiis  rterque 

Perleget,  et  naBuos  cotidet  vterque  tuoi. 
Dum  famulus  Ferum  coniitaris  in  aurea  (ecta, 

Officii  semper  sit  libi  cura  tui. 
Turn  fortasse  piis  Nyrapliis  dabit  ille  legendum, 

Cum  de  Cyprigeno  rerba  iocosa  serent,"  &c. 

The  late  Mr.  George  Steevens  chose  to  pronounce 
Watson  "  a  more  elegant  sonneteer  than  Shakspeare  ;'* 
with  what  justice  the  long  specimens  which  follow,  ex- 
tracted from  an  uncommonly  scarce  book,  will  enable 
the  reader  to  judge.  It  is  true  that  Shakspeare's  sonnets 
are  not  among  the  best  of  his  minor  poems  ;  but  they 
exhibit  some  occasional  traits  of  his  genius  ;  and,  I 
think,  more  genuine  poetical  talent  throughout  than 
those  of  the  writer  now  before  us. 

The  epithet  "  elegant"  seems  ill  applied  to  Watson. 
Elegance  rauht  unite  simplicity  with  grace.  Over- 
laboured 


laboured  and  far-fetclied  infi^eiiuity  cannot  be  elegant. 
It  may  extort  unwilling  praise  for  perverted  ability  : 
but  if  it  wants  nature,  it  merits  not  the  encomium  which 
has  been  thus  whimsically  bestowed. 

Watson's  Sonnets  are  very  valuable  as  specimens  of  the 
degree  of  polish  of  the  vernacular  language  of  his  day. 
They  are  terse,  harmonious,  and  often  constructed  with 
admirable  artifice.  They  are  seldom  disgraced  by  ex- 
pletives, flat  expressions,  or  imperfectly  formed  sentences. 
There  is  no  involution  of  words,  which  generally  follow 
one  another  in  tlieir  proper  places  with  uncommon 
felicity.  There  arc  whole  sonnets  in  which  not  one 
single  word  takes  a  different  position  from  that  which 
it  ouglit  to  have  in  prose.  The  very  accentuation  is 
seldom  different  from  that  of  our  times.  That  miserable 
intermixture  of  lame  lines,  or  lame  half-lines,  which 
deforms  most  of  the  poetry  of  the  Elizabethan  age,  never 
disgraces  Watson. 

This  must  be  admitted  to  be  high  praise,  though  it  be 
not  the  highest.  The  truth  is,  that  such  excellencies 
regard  the  form  and  dress,  and  not  the  soul,  of  poetry. 
It  is  in  the  materials,  and  in  the  spirit  which  inspires 
them,  that  the  genuine  character  of  the  Muse  is  seen, 
and  felt.  To  meditate  upon  a  subject,  till  it  is  broken 
into  a  thousand  remote  allusions  and  conceits ;  to 
accustom  the  mind  to  a  familiarity  with  metaphysical 
subtleties,  and  casual  similitudes  in  contradictory  ob- 
jects, is  to  cultivate  intellectual  habits  directly  opposite 
to  those  from  whence  real  poetry  springs  ;  and  to  pro- 
duce effects  directly  opposite  to  those  which  real  poetry 
is  intended  to  produce. 

The  real  poet  docs  but  pursue,  fix,  and  heighten  those 
day-dreams  which  every  intellectual  being  more  or  less 
at  times  indulges  ;  thougli  the  difference  of  the  degree, 
as  well  as  of  the  frequency,  in  which  individuals  indulge 
them,  is  incalculable  ;  arising  from  the  difference  of 
mental  talent  and  sensibility,  as  well  as  of  cultivation. 
But  who  is  there,  in  whose  fancy  some  absent  image 
does  not  occasionally  revive  ?  And  who  is  there  so 
utterly  dull  and  hard,  that  in  him  it  arises  unassociated 
with  the  slightest  emotion  of  pain  or  pleasure  ?  Yet  in 
what  abundance  and  richness  of  colouring  such  images 

B  2  ar« 


are  constantly  springincr  up  in  the  mind  of  the  poet? 
Visions  adhere  to  the  boughs  of  every  tree  ;  and  ])aint- 
ing  what  he  sees  and  feels  with  his  natural  enthusiasm, 
he  carries  the  reader  of  sensibility  along  with  him; 
kindles  his  fainter  ideas  into  a  flame  ;  draws  forth  the 
yet  weak  impression  into  body  and  form  ;  and  irradiates 
his  whole  brain  with  his  own  light.  The  chords  of  the 
heart  are  touched  ;  and  while  thus  played  upon  produce 
enchanting  music  ;  till,  as  the  spell  is  silent,  the  object 
of  this  borrowed  inspiration  is  astonished  to  find,  that 
all  this  brilliant  entertainment  sprung  from  the  wand  of 
the  poetical  magician. 

if  this  be  the  secret  of  true  poetry,  what  is  he  who 
seeks  to  convey  images  so  unnatural,  that  no  one  had 
ever  even  an  imperfect  glimpse  of, them  before,  and  no 
one  can  sympathize  with  them  when  expressed  ?  Can 
he,  whose  thoughts  find  no  mirror  in  the  minds  of  others 
be  a  poet  ?  Is  not  a  metapht/sical poet  a  contradiction  of 
terms  ? 

He  who  adopts  these  principles,  will  think  of  Watson 
as  I  do. — Has  he  painted  the  natural  emotions  of  the 
mind,  or  the  heart  ?    Has  he  given 

*'  A  local  habitation,  and  a  name," 
to  those  "  airy  nothings"  which  more  or  less  haunt 
every  fancy  ?  Or  has  he  not  sat  down  rather  to  exercise 
the  subtlety  of  his  wit,  than  to  discbarge  the  fullness 
of  his  bosom?  Whether  Shakspeare  in  the  sonnets  to 
•wliich  these  have  been  preferred,  has  done  better,  we 
may  afterwards  consider. 

Let  us  j)roceed  therefore  to  a  more  particular  exami- 
nation, accompanied  by  specimens,  of  the  work  before 
us.  ,  These  sonnets  do  not  adhere  to  the  strict  form  of 
the  class,  of  which  they  assume  the  name. — They  consist 
of  18  lines  instead  of  14  ;  and  the  rhymes  are  differently 
arranged,  ai«d  not  repeated  like  those  of  Petrarch  and 
bis  followers.  But  this  is  a  very  trifling  objection. 
Still  as  Watsork  is  an  imitator  in  many  respects  suflicient- 
ly  servile,  and  does  not  at  all  spare  labour,  I  rather 
wonder  at  an  unnecessary  departure  from  an  established 
model :  more  especially  as  it  will  bedithcull  to  convince 
his  readers  that  he  has  improved  upon  it :  for,  in  spite 
of  Johnson,  it  must  not  be  admitted,  that  that  model  is 

ill 


ill  suited  to  the  character  of  the  English  language. — A 
few  poets,  both  old  and  modern,  have  shewn  that  they 
can  manage  it  wit!)  skill  and  facility*. 

If  the  reader  is  tired  with  the  length  of  the  extracts, 
let  him  recollect  that  it  is  all,  which,  from  its  scarcity. 
he  will  probably  ever  see  of  the  book  :  and  that  it  is  not 
unworthy  to  contribute  its  share  to  the  treasures  of 
Elizabethan  literature. 

As  a  scholar,  Watson  appears  to  deserve  great  praise. 
In  describing  the  passion  of  love  he  seems  to  have  tasked 
his  ingenuity  to  embrace  all  the  cont^eits  on  that  subject, 
which  are  to  be  found  in  classical  mythology,  as  well 
as  in  the  more  affected  and  metaphysical  parts  of  the 
similar  compositions  of  his  prototype  Petrarch. 


The  author  in  this  passion  taketh  but  occasion  to  open  his 
estate  iu  loue  ;  the  miserable  accidentes  whereof  are  sufficient- 
ly described  hereafter  iu  the  copious  varietie  of  his  deuises  : 
and  whereas  in  this  sonnet  he  seemeth  one  «hile  to  despaire, 
and  yet  by  and  by  after  to  have  some  hope  of  jjood  successe, 
the  contrarietie  ought  not  to  ofiVnd,  if  the  nature  and  true 
qualitie  of  a  loue  passion  bee  well  considered.  And  where 
he  mentioneth  that  once  he  scorned  loue,  hee  alludeth  to  a 
peece  of  worke,  which  he  wrote  long  since,  De  Remedio 
Amorts,  which  he  hath  lately  perfected,  to  the  good  likinge 
of  many  that  have  seene  and  perused  it,  though  not  fully  to 
his  owne  fancy,  which  causeth  him  as  yet  to  keepe  it  backe 
from  the  printe. 

Well  fare  the  life  sometimes  I  ledde  ere  this, 
When  yet  no  downy  heare  yclad  my  face  : 
My  heart  deuoyde  of  cares  did  bath  in  blisse, 
My  thoughts  were  free  in  euery  time  and  place  : 
But  now,  alas,  all's  fowle,  which  then  was  faire, 
My  wonted  ioyes  are  turning  to  despaire. 
Where  then  I  liv'd  without  controule  or  checke, 
An  other  now  is  mistris  of  my  minde, 
Cupid  hath  clapt  a  yoake  vpon  my  necke, 
Vnder  whose  waigbte  I  liue  in  seruile  kinde : 

*  Perhaps  none  better  than  the  present  Lord  Thurlow,  who 
has  caught  the  true  spirit  ot  Spenser's  best  sonnets  ;  and  the  very 
modulation  of  his  language,  without  servility,  or  the  smallest 
appearance  of  affectation. 

I  now 


I  now  cry  create,  that  ere  I  scorned  loue, 
Whose  might  is  more  than  other  God's  aboue.         T 
I  have  assaide  by  labour  to  eschewe 

What  fancy  buildes  vpon  a  loue  conceite. 
But  nearthelesse  my  thought  reuiues  anew, 
Wljere  in  fond  loue  is  wrapt,  and  workes  deceite : 
Some  comfort  yet  I  haue  to  Hue  her  thrall, 
In  whouie  as  yet  I  find  no  fault  at  all ! 

V. 

AH  this  passion,  two  rerses  only  excepted,  is  wholly  trans, 
lated  out  of  Petrarch,  where  he  writeth,* 

S'amor  non  e,  che  dunque  <;  quel  chi  sento  ? 
Ma  s'e>;li  6  amor,  per  Dio  che  cosa,  e  quale  ? 
Se  buona,  ond'  e  I'effetto  aspro  e  mortale  ? 
Se  ria,  ond'  e  si  dolce  ogni  tormento? 

Heerein  certaine  contrarieties,  whiche  are  incident  to  him 
that  loueth  extr<'eraelyp,  are  liuely  expressed  by  a  metaphore. 
And  it  may  be  noted  that  the  author  in  his  first  haife  verse  of 
this  translation  varieth  from  that  sense,  which  Chawcer  vsetb 
in  translating  the  selfe  same  :  which  he  doth  vpon  no  other 
vrarrant  then  his  owne  simple  priuate  opinion,  which  yet  hf 
'will  not  greatly  stand  vpon. 

irt  bee  not  loue  I  feelo,  what  is  it  then  ? 
If  loue  it  bee,  what  kind  a  thing  is  loue  ? 
If  good,  how  chance  he  hurtes  so  many  men? 
If  badd,  how  happ'sthat  none  his  hurtes  disproue"^ 
If  willingly  1  burne,  bow  chance  I  waile  ? 
If  gainst  my  will,  what  sorrow  will  auaile? 
O  linesome  death,  O  swette  and  pleasant  ill. 
Against  my  minde  how  can  thy  might  preuaile  ? 
If  1  bend  backe,  and  bnt  refraine  my  will, 
If  I  consent,  I  doe  not  well  to  waile ; 

c  [And  touching  him,  whome  will  hath  made  a  slaue, 
i  I'he  prouerbe  saith  of  olde,  selfe  doe,  sel/e  haue/^f 
Thus  being  tost  with  windes  of  sundry  sorte 
Through  daung'rous  seas  but  in  a  slender  boat. 
With  erronr  stuft,  and  driu'n  beside  the  porte. 
Where  voide  of  wisdomes  fraight  it  lies  afioate, 
I  wane  in  doubt  what  helpe  I  shall  require, 
In  sommer  freeze,  in  winter  burne  like  fire. 

*  Part  prima  Sonet  103. 

t  Adduntur  Tuscano  hij  duo  versus. 

This 


VI.     ^  '    --r-^-- 

This  passion  is  a  translation  into  Latine  of  the  selfe  same 
sonnet  of  Petrarch  which  you  red  lastly  alleaged,  and  com- 
meth  somwhat  neerer  vnto  the  Italian  phrase  the  the  English 
doth.  The  author  whe  he  translated  it  was  not  then  minded 
euer  to  haue  emboldned  him  selfe  so  farre,  as  to  thrust  in 
foote  amongst  our  English  poets.  But  beinge  busied  in 
translating  Petrarch  his  sonnets  into  Latin,  new  clothed  this 
amogst  many  others,  which  one  day  may  perchance  come  to 
light :  And  because  it  beiitteth  this  place,  he  is  content  you 
suruey  it  here  as  a  probable  signe  of  his  dayly  sutTerance  in 
loue. 

Hoc  si  non  sit  amor,  quod  persentisco,  quid  ergo  est  i 
Si  sit  amor,  turn  quid  sit  amor,  qualisque,  rogandum  : 
Si  bonus  est,  vnde  efiectus  producit  acerbos  ?  ,3 

Sin  malus,  vnde  eius  tormentum  dulce  putatur? 
Sique  vohns  uror,  quae  tanti  causa  doloris  ? 
Sin  inuitus  amo,  quid  me  lamenta  juuabunt  ? 
O  loethum  viuax,  O  delectabile  damnum, 
Qui  sic  me  superes,  tibi  si  concedere  nolim  ? 
Et  me  si  patior  vinci,  cur  lugeo  victus  ? 
Aduersis  rapior  ventis,  nulloque  magistro, 
Per  maris  elfusi  fluctus,  in  puppe  caduca, 
Qux  vacua  ingeuio,  tantoque  erroregrauata  est, 
Ipsus  ut  ignorem  de  me  quid  dicere  possim  : 
Frigeo  dum  media  est  aestas  j  dum  bruma,  caleaco. 

XIX. 

The  author  in  this  passion  reproueth  the  Tsuall  description 
of  loue,  whiche  olde  poetes  haue  so  long  time  embraced  :  and 
proueth  by  probabilities,  that  he  neither  is  a  chiide,  (as  they 
say,)  nor  blinde,  nor  winged  like  a  birde,  nor  armed  archer 
like  with  boweand  arrowes,  neither  frantike,  nor  wise,  nor 
yetvneioathed,  nor  (to  conclude)  anie  God  at  all.  And  yet 
-whe  he  hath  said  al  he  can  to  this  end,  he  cryeth  out  vpon  the 
secret  nature  and  qualitie  of  Loue,  as  being  that  whereunto 
he  can  by  no  meanes  attaine,  although  he  haue  spent  a  long 
and  tedious  course  of  time  in  his  seruice. 

If  Cupid  were  a  chiide,  as  Poefs  faine, 

How  comes  it  then  that  Mars  doth  feare  his  might  ? 
if  blind,  how  chance  so  many  to  theire  ptinc, 
Whom  he  hath  hitte,  can  witnesse  of  his  sight  ? 
if  he  haue  wings  to  Hie  where  thinkes  hira  best, 
How  happes  he  lurketb  still  within  my  brest  ? 


8 

If  bowe  and  shaftes  should  be  his  chlefest  tooles, 
Why  rloth  ho  set  so  many  heartes  on  fire  ? 
If  he  were  marlde,  how  could  he  further  fooles 
To  wh«'t  theire  wits,  as  place  and  time  require? 
If  wise,  how  roiiid  so  many  leeze  theire  wittes, 
Or  doate  tltrongh  loue,  and  dye  in  frantike  fittes  ? 
If  naked  still  he  wander  (oo  and  froe, 

How  doth  not  sunne  or  frost  offend  his  skinne? 
If  that  a  God  he  be,  how  falles  it  so 
That  all  wants  end,  which  he  doth  oncebeginne? 
O  wondrous  thing;,  that  I,  whom  Loue  hath  spent, 
Can  scarcely  knowe  himself,  or  his  intent. 

XXII. 

The  substance  of  this  passion  is  taken  out  of  iS'erap/itnff) 
Sonetto  127,  which  beginneth  thus  : 

Quando  nascesti  amor  ?  quando  la  terra 

Se  rinueste  di  verde  e  bel  colore  ; 

Di  che  fusli  creato  ?  d'un  ardore, 

Che  cio  lasciuo  in  se  rinchiude  e  serra,  &c. 

But  the  aathor  hath  in  this  translation  inuerted  the  order 
of  some  verses  of  Seraphine,  and  added  the  two  last  of  hira> 
telfe,  to  make  the  rest  to  seeme  the  more  patheticail. 

**  Whenwerte  thou  borne  sweet  Loue?  who  «Fas  thy  sire?" — 
*'  When  Flora  first  adorn'd  dame  Tellus  lap, 
Then  sprung  I  forth  from  wanton  bote  Desire." 
*'  Who  was  thy  nurse  to  feede  thee  first  with  pap  ?" 
*'  Youth  first  with  tender  hand  bound  up  my  heade, 
Then  saide,  with  Lookes  alone  I  should  be  fed.''  — 
**  What  maides  had  she  attendint  on  her  side, 

To  playe,  to  singe,  to  rocke  thee  fast  a  sleepe?''— • 
**  VaiiieNiCENESSii.Bi-AUTiEfaire, andpompousPniDE." — 
'*  By  stea't!)  when  further  Age  on  thee  did  creepe  ; 
Where  didst  (hou  make  thy  chiefe  abiding  place  ?" — 
*'  In  willing  llarles^  which  were  of  gentle  race."— 
**  What  is*t  wherewith  thou  wagest  warres  with  me  ?" — 
*'  FE.vuEcold  as  ise,  and.  Hope  as  bote  fire.'' 
**  And  cannot  Age,  or  Death  make  end  of  thee  ?"— - 
<*  No,  no  :  my  dying  life  still  makes  retire.*'— 

**  Why  then,  swtete  Loue,  take  pittie  on  my  palne, 
Which  often  dye,  and  eft  reuiue  againe." 

XXV. 

It  is  to  be  considered  iu  reading  this  passion^  howe  insom* 

auswercs 


answeres,  the  accent  or  poynting  of  the  vordes  Is  altered, 
and  therewithal!  howe  the  Authour  walking  in  the  woods,  and 
bewayling  his  inward  passion  of  Loue,  is  contraried  by  the 
replies  of  Echo:  whose  meaning  yc-t  is  not  so  much  to  gain- 
say him,  as  lo  expresse  her  ovvne  miserable  estate  in  daily 
consuming  away  for  the  loue  of  lier  beloued  Narcissus,  whose 
TuUindnes  Ouid  dtscribethat  large,  together  with  the  extreme 
loue  of  Echo.* 

Author.  In  all  this  world  I  thinke  none  lou's  but  I. 

Echo.  None  luu's  but  I.     Ailth.  Thou   foolish  tattling 
ghest 
In  this  thou  telst  a  lip.     Echo.  Thou  telst  a  lie. 
Author.  Why  ?  Loue  him  selfe  he  lodgelh  in  my  brest. 
Echo.  He  lodgeth  in  my  brest.     Auih    I  pine  for  griefc, 
And  yet  I  want  reliefe.     Echo.  I  want  reliefe. 
Author.   No  starre  more  faire  than  her  whom  I  adore. 
Echo.  Then  +he,   whom  I   adore.      Auth.  Ilerehence  I 
burne 
Slil  more  and  more.     Echo.  I  burne   stil  more  and 
more. 
Author.  Loue,  let  my  heart  returne.     Echo.  My  heart,  re- 

turne. 
Author.  Is  then  (he  Saint,  for  whom  thou  makest  mone, 

And  whom  1  loue  but  one  ?     Echo.   Ilouebutone* 
Author.  O  beav'ns  is  there  in  loue  no  eude  of  ills  ? 

Echo.  In  loue  no  ende  of  ills.    ^u/A.  Thon  pratlingvoyce, 

Dwel'st  thou  in  th'ayre,  or  but  in  hollow  hills  ? 
Echo.   In  hollow  hills,  ^wf/t.  Cease  of  to  vaunt  thy  choyse. 
Eiho.  Cease  of  to  vaunt  thy  choyse.  Auth.  I  would  replie, 
But  here  for  loue  1  die.     Echo.  For  loue  I  die. 

XXVI. 

Here  the  Author  as  a  man  ouertaken  with  some  deepe  me- 
lancholie,  compareth  him  selfe  vnto  (he  nightingale,  and  con- 
ferreth  his  vnhappie  estate  (for  that  by  no  meanes  his  mis- 
tresse  will  pitie  him)  with  hernightly  complaints  :  to  whose 
harmonie  all  those  that  giue  attentiue  eare,  they  conceiue 
more  delight  in  the  musicall  varietie  of  her  noates,  theu  they 
take  iust  compassion  vpoo  her  distressed  ieauiaes.   ' 

*  Lib.  1.  Metamorph. 

t  S.  liquesceas  immutat  sensum. 

When 


10 

When  Maye  is  in  his  prime,  and  youthfull  spring 

Doth  cloath  the  tree  with  leaues,  and  ground  with  flow  res. 
And  time  of  yere  reuiueth  eu'ry  thing  ; 
And  louely  Nature  smiles,  and  nothing  lowres  ; 
Then  Philomela  most  doth  straine  her  brest 
With  night-complaints,  and  sifs  in  litle  rest. 
This  bird's  estate  I  may  compare  with  mine, 

To  whom  fond  loue  doth  worke  such  wrongs  by  day, 
That  in  the  night  my  heart  must  needes  repine, 
And  storme  with  sighes  to  ease  me  as  1  may  ; 
Whilst  others  are  becalmed  or  lye  them  still, 
Or  sayle  secure  with  tide  and  winde  at  will. 
And  as  all  those  which  heare  this  Bird  complaioej 
Conceiue  in  all  her  tuna's  a  sweete  delight. 
Without  remorse,  or  pitying  her  payne  : 
So  she,  for  whom  I  wayle  both  day  and  night. 
Doth  sport  her  selfe  in  hearing  my  complaint  ; 
A  iust  reward  for  seruing  such  a  Saint. 

XLI. 

This  Passion  is  framed  Tpon  a  somewhat  tedious  or  too 
much  affected  continuation  of  that  figure  in  Rhethorique, 
whiche  of  the  Grekes  is  called  vxXiXoyta,  or  x*xlin\u<rtri  of 
the  Latins  Reduplicatio  ;  whereof  Susenbrotus  (if  I  well 
remember  me)  alleadgeth  this  example  out  of  Virgill : 

Sequitur  pulcherrimus  Austur, 
Austur  equo  fidens.     ^neid.  10. 

O  happy  men  that  finde  no  lacke  in  Loue ; 
I  loue,  and  lacke  what  most  I  do  desire ; 
My  deepe  desire  no  reason  can  remoue  ; 
All  reason  shunnes  my  brest,  that's  set  one  fire ; 
And  so  the  fire  mainetaines  both  force  and  flame. 
That  force  auayleth  not  against  the  same. 
One  onely  helpe  can  slake  this  burning  heate. 
Which  burning  heate  proceedeth  from  her  face; 
Whose  face  by  lookes  bewitched  my  conceite. 
Through  which  conceite  I  liue  in  woefull  case. 
O  woefull  case,  which  hath  no  ende  of  woe, 
Till  woes  haue  ende  by  fauour  of  my  foe. 
And  yet  my  foe  mainetaineth  such  a  warre. 
As  all  her  warre  is  nothing  els  but  peace ; 
But  such  a  peace  as  breedeth  secreat  Jarre, 
Which  Jarre  no  witte,  no  force,  no  time  can  cease. 

Yet 


11 

Yet  cease  despai re ;   for  time,  by  witte,  or  force,    iff 
May  force  my  frendly  foe  to  take  remoise. 

XUI. 

In  this  Pa-ssipn  the  Authour  vnder  colour  of  tflKng  hii 
dreame  doth  very  cunningly  and  liuo'.y  praise  his  Mistres,  so 
farre  forth,  as  no!  onely  to  prefer  her  bi  fore  Helen,  of  Greece 
for  excellencie  of  beautie,  but  also  before  howe  many  soeuer 
are  nowe  liuing  in  this  our  age.  The  dreame  of  itselfe  is  so 
plainely  and  eti'ectaally  set  downe  (albeit  in  fewe  wordes) 
that  it  ueedeno  further  annotation  to  explaine  it. 

This  latter  night  amidst  my  troubled  rest 
A  dismall  ilreame  my  fearefull  hart  appald, 
Whereof  the  somme  was  this  :    Loue  made  a  feast 
To  which  all  neighbour  Saintes  and  God's  were  calde  : 
The  cheere  was  more  then  mortall  men  can  thinke. 
And  mirth  grew  on,  by  taking  in  their  drinke. 
Then  Joue  amidst  his  cuppes  for  seruice  done 
Gan  thus  to  iest  with  Ganymede  his  boy  ; 
I  faine  would  finde  for  thee,  my  preaty  Sonne, 
A  fayrer  wilV,  then  Paris  brought  to  Troy  : 
Why,  Sir,  quoth  he,  if  Phebus  stand  my  frelid, 
Who  knows  the  worKl,  this  geere  will  soon  haue  end; 
Then  loue  repHde  that  Phebus  should  not  choose 
But  do  his  be^it  to  finde  fciie  layrest  face  ; 
And  she  once  found  should  neither  will  nor  choose, 
But  yeelde  her  s^-ife,  and  chaunge  her  dwelling  place  j 
Alas,  how  much  was  then  my  hartatfright ; 
Which  bade  me  wake,  and  watch  my  faire  delight  ? 

XLV. 

The  Authour  vseth  in  t.'iiii  passion  the  like  sense  to  that 
which  he  had  in  the  last  beiore  it,  calling  his  mistres  a  second 
Sunne  vpon  earth,  wherewith  ifeautn  itselfe  is  become  ini 
loue.  But  when  he  compiled  this  Sonnet,  he  thought  not  toti 
haue  placed  it  among  these  his  English  toyes. 
Faelice&alii  juueuesj  quos  blandula  Cypris 

Aptos  fecit  araoribus, 
Exoptare  solent  tcnebrosacrepusculanoctis, 

Aurorae  maledicere : 
At  multo  est  mihi  chara  magis  pulcherrima  conjux 

Tythoni  gelidisenis. 
Dam  venit  in  prima  surgentis  parte  diei, 
£t  soles  geminos  mihi 

2  Apperit 


19 

Apperit  et  mocsto  faelices  reddit  ocellos, 

Quod  soles  videam  duos, 
Qoi  fiimili  forma,  s'tmili  sic  luce  coruscant, 

Et  mittunt  radios  pares, 
Vt  Polus  ipse  nouo  Terrae  laqueatus  amore, 

Flammis  inuideat  meis, 
Solis  et  ignoto  se  torreat  igne  secundi, 

Oblitus  decoris  sui, 
Haud  secus  atque  olim,  cum  reris  prima  Tennstat  *- 

Molto  flore  superbijt, 
Et  intidosprimum  strophiis  ornare  capillos 

Pulchri  Naiadum  chori. 

LII. 

Here  the  Authour  after  some  dolorous  discourse  of  his 
Tuhappines,  and  rehearsall  of  some  particular  hurtes  which 
he  susteineth  in  the  pursute  of  his  loue:  first  questioneth 
with  his  lady  of  his  deserte ;  and  then,  as  hauinge  made  a 
sufficiente  proofe  of  his  innocfncy,  perswadeth  her  to  pitie 
him,  whom  she  her selfe  hath  hurte.  Moreouer  it  is  to  be 
noted,  that  the  first  letters  of  all  the  verses  in  this  passiop 
being  ioyned  together  as  they  stand,  do  conteine  this  posie 
agreeable  to  his  meaning,  Amor  me  pungit  et  wit, 

A  A  world  of  woes  doth  raigne  within  my  brest, 

m  My  pensiue  thoughtes  are  cou'red  all  with  care, 

o  Of  all  that  sing  the  Swanne  doth  please  me  best, 

r  Restraint  of  ioyes  exiles  my  woonted  fare, 

M  Mad  raooded  Loue  vsurpiug  Reason's  place, 

e  Extrcmitie  doth  ouer  rule  the  case. 

P  Paine  drieth  yp  my  vaines  and  vitall  bloud, 

u  Unlesse  the  Saint  I  serue  geue  hclpe  in  time  : 

s  None  els,  but  she  alone,  can  do  me  good. 

g  Graunt  then,  ye  Gods,  that  first  she  may  not  clime 

i  Immortall  heav'ns,  to  Hue  with  saintes  aboue, 

t  Then  she  Touchsafe  to  yeeld  me  loue  for  loue. 

E  Examine  well  the  time  of  my  distresse, 

t  Thou  dainty  dame,  for  whom  I  pine  away 

V  Unguylty  though  as  needcs  thou  must  confesse, 

r  Remembring  but  the  cause  of  my  decay  : 

i  In  vewing  thy  sweet  face  arose  my  griefe, 

t  Therefore  in  time  vouchsafe  me  some  reliefe. 

LXVI. 

This  Latine  passion  is  borrowed  from  Petrarch^  sonnetto 
133,  which  beginneth,  '^  '  '* 

//or, 


13 

Hor^  f  A7  del,  e  la  terra  e*l  vento  tace^ 
E  le  fere,  e  gli  augelli  il  sonno  affrena^ 
Notte^l  carro  stellato  in  giro  menu, 
E  nel  suo  letto  il  mar  senz'  ondu  giace,  Sfc. 
Wherein  he  imitated  Virgill,  speaking  of  Dido,  thus: 

Nox  erat,  et  taciturn  carpebantjessa  soporem 
Corpora,  Sfc. 

And  this  author  presumeth  upon  the  paines  he  hath  taken, 
in  faithfully  translating  it,  to  place  it  amongst  thfse  his 
owne  passions,  for  a  signe  of  his  great  sufferance  in  loue. 

Dumccelutn,  dum  terra  tacet,  ventusque  silescit, 

\    Dumque  feras,  volucresqiie  quies  complectitur  alta, 
Noxque  agit  in  gyrum  stellantes  sydere  currus, 
Inque  suo  lecto  recubat  sine  ilumine  Pontus, 

Multa  ego  contemplor ;  studeo  ;  coniiagro ;  gemisco  ; 
Et,  mea-quEB  dulcis  poena  est,  mihi  semper  oberrat. 
In  me  bella  gcro  plenusque  doloris  et  iras, 
Paxque  mihi  mudica  est  Laurae  solius  in  umbra. 

Oritur  ex  uno  charo  mihi  fonte  et  acerbum, 

Et  quod  dulce  sapit ;  quorum  depascor  utroque. 
Unica  meque  manus  loedit,  loesoque  medetur, 

Martyriumque  meum  nullo  quia  iimite  clausum  est, 
Mille  neces  pacior,  vitas  totidemque  resumo 
Quoque  die  ;  superestque  mihi  spes  nulla  saiutis. 

LXXV. 

In  this  passion  the  Authour  borroweth  from  certaine  Latine 
Terses  of  his  owne,  made  long  agoe  vpon  the  loue  abuses  of 
Juppiter  in  a  certaine  peece  of  worke  written  in  the  commen- 
dation of  women  kinde  ;  which  he  hath  not  yet  wholie  per- 
fected to  the  print.  Some  of  the  verses  may  be  thus  cited  to 
the  explaning  of  this  passion,  although  but  lamelie. 

Accipe  ut  ignaram  candentis  imagine  Tauri 
Luserit  Europam  ficta,  &c. 

Quam  nimio  Semelen  fuerit  complexus  amore,  Sec. 
Qualis  et  Asterien  aquilinis  pressprit  alis  ; 

Quoque  dolo  lajdam  ficto  sub  olore  fefelHt. 
Adde  quod  AntioparaSatyri  sub  imagine,  &c. 
Et  fuit  Amphytrio,  cum  te  Tiryntheia,  &c. 
^ginaeque  duos  ignis  sub  imagine  natos,  &c. 
Parrhasiam  fictae  pharetra  Vultuque  Dians, 
Mneraosynen  Pastor,  serpens  Dcoiiia  lusit,  &c, 

Ofid^ritetb  somewhat  in  like  manner,  Metam.  lib.  6. 

Not 


14 

Not  she,  whom  loue  transported  into  Crete  ; 
Nor  Semele,  to  whom  he  vow'd  in  hast ; 
Nor  she  whose  flanckes  he  fild  with  fayned  heate ; 
Nor  whome  with  ^gles  winges  he  oft  embrast; 
Nor  Danae  beguyl'd  by  golden  rape  ; 
Nor  she,  for  whome  he  tooke  Dianaes  shape; 
Nor  falre  Antiopa,  whose  fruitefuU  loue 

He  gayned  Satyr  like  ;   nor  she,  whose  sonne 
■    To  wanton  Hebe  was  conioyn'd  abouc; 

Nor  sweete  Mnemosyne,  whose  loue  he  wunne 
In  sheplieardes  weede  ;  no  such  are  like  the  Saint, 
Whose  eyes  enforce  my  feeble  heart  to  faint. 
And  loue  himselfe  may  storme,  if  so  he  please, 
To  heare  me  thus  compare  my  Loue  with  his  : 
No  forked  fire,  nor  thunder  can  disease 
This  heart  of  mine,  where  stronger  torment  is : 
But  O  how  this  surpasseth  all  the  rest. 
That  she,  which  hurtes  me  most,  I  loue  her  best. 

LXXIX. 

The  authour  in  this  Passion  seeraeth  vppon  mislike  of  his 
wearisome  estate  in  loue  to  eater  into  a  deepe  discourse 
with  himselfe  touching  the  particular  miseries  which  befall 
him  that  loueth  :  And  for  his  sense  in  this  place,  hee  is  very 
like  vnto  himselfe,  where  in  a  Theame  diducted  out  of  the 
bowelles  of  Antigone  in  Sophocles  (which  he  lately  translated 
into  Latine,  and  published  in  print)  he  writeth  in  rery  like 
manner  as  followeth : 

Mali  quando  Cupidinis 
Venas  aestus  edax  occupat  intimas, 
Artes  ingenium  labitur  in  malas  ; 
lactatur  varie,  nee  cereris  subit 
Nee  Bacchi  studium  ;   peruigiles  trahit 
Noctcs  ;    cura  animum  soUicita  atterit,  &c. 

And  it  may  appeare  by  the  tenour  of  this  passion  that  the 
Authour  prepareth  himselfe  to  fall  from  Ijoueandall  his  Lawes 
as  will  well  a[)pt'are  by  the  sequell  of  his  other  Passions  that 
followe,  which  are  all  made  vpon  this  Posie,  My  loue  is  Past. 

Where  heate  of  Loue  doth  once  possesse  the  heart, 
There  cares  oppresse  the  minde  with  wondrous  ill, 
VVit  runns  awrye,  not  fearing  future  smarte, 
And  fond  desire  doth  ouermaster  will : 

The  belly  neither  cares  for  meate  nor  driake, 
Nor  oaerwatched  eyes  desire  to  winke  : 

Footsteps 


15 

Footsteps  are  false,  and  wau'ring  too  and  froe ; 
The  brightsome  flow'r  of  beauty  fades  away : 
Reason  retyres,  and  pleasure  brings  iu  woe; 
And  wisedome  yeldeth  place  to  black  decay  : 

Counsell,  and  fame,  and  friendship  are  contemnM : 

And  bashfull  shame,  and  Gods  themselues  condemuM. 
Watchfull  Suspect  is  linked  with  despaire  : 
Inconstant  Hope  is  often  drown'd  in  feares: 
What  Folly  hurtes  not  Fortune  can  repayre  ; 
And  Misery  doth  swimme  in  seas  of  teares  : 

Long  vse  of  life  is  but  a  lingring  foe, 

And  gentle  death  is  only  end  of  woe. 

The  next  Sonnet  LXXX  begins  the  title  of 

"  MY  LOVE  IS  PAST." 

LXXX  III. 

In  this  Sonnet  the  Author  hath  imitated  one  of  Ronsarde's 
Odes*,  which  beginneth  thus  ; 

"  Les  Muses  herent  un  iour 

De  chaisnes  de  roses  Amour, 

£t  pour  le  gardcr,  le  donnerent 

Aus  Graces  et  a  la  Beaute  : 

Qui  voyans  sa  desloyaute, 

Sur  Parnase  Temprisonnerent,"  &c. 

The  Muses  not  long  since  intrapping  Loue 
In  chaines  of  roases  linked  all  araye, 
Gaue  Beawtie  charge  to  watch  in  their  behoue 
With  Graces  three,  lest  he  should  wend  awaye  : 
Who  fearing  yet  he  would  escape  at  last, 
On  high  Parnassus  toppe  they  clapt  him  fast. 
When  Venus  vndersloode  her  sonne  was  thrall. 
She  made  post  haste  to  haue  God  Vulcan's  ayde,  f 
Solde  him  her  gemmes,  and  ceston  therewithal!, 
To  ransome  home  her  Sonne  that  was  betraide  ; 
But  all  in  vaine.     The  Muses  made  no  stoare 
Of  gold,  but  bound  him  faster  then  before. 
Therefore  all  you,  whom  Loue  did  ere  abuse, 

Come  clappe  your  handes  with  me,  to  see  him  thrall, 
Whose  former  deedes  no  reason  can  excuse 

•  Au  liure  de  ses  meslanges. 
f  Ut  Mnrtis  revocetur  amor,  summique  Tonantis 
A  te  Juno  petit  ceston,  et  ipsa  Venus. 

Martialis. 

For 


16 

For  killing  those  which  hurt  him  not  at  all ; 
Myselfe  by  him  wns  lately  led  awrye, 
Though  now  at  Ia.->t  I  force  my  loue  to  dye. 

*  LXXXV. 

,  The  chiefest  substance  of  this  Sonnet  is  borrowed  out  of 
certeine  Latin  verses  of  Strozza,  a  nobleman  of  Italy,  and 
one  of  ihe  best  Poets  in  all  his  age,  who  iu  describing  meta- 
phorically to  his  friend  Antonius  the  true  foru\e  of  his 
amorous  estate,  writeth  thus  ; 

*'  Unda  hie  sunt  Lachrima?,  Venti  suspiria,  Remi 

Vota,  error  velum,  Mens  maiesana  Ratis  ; 
Sjies  temo,  cur<E  comitrs,  constantia  amoris 

Est  nialus,  Dolor  est  anchora,  Nauita  amor,  8cc. 

The  souldiar  worne  with  warres,  deli^htes  in  peace  ; 
The  pilgrime  in  his  ease  when  toyles  are  past ; 
The  ship  ti)  gayne  the  porte,  when  stormes  doe  cease; 
And  I  reioyce,  from  loue  discharg'd  at  last ; 

Whome  while  1  sera'd,  peace,  rest,  and  land  I  lost, 
With  grieusome  wars,  with  toyles,  with  storms  betost. 
Sweete  liberty  nowe  giueH  melcaue  to  sinjj, 

What  worlde  it  was,  where  Loue  the  rule  did  beare; 
Howe  foolish  Chaunce  by  lottes  rui'd  euery  thing  ; 
Howe  F.rror  was  maine  saile  ;  each  waue  a  Teare  ; 
•  The  Master  Loue  himselfe  ;  deepe  sighes  were  windes, 
Cares  raw'd  with  vowes  the  ship  vnmerj/  minde. 
False  hope  as  healme  oft  turud  the  boat  about ; 
Inconstant  faith  stood  vp  for  middle  maste  ; 
Despaiie  the  cable  twisted  all  with  doubt  ; 
Helfl  Griping  griefe  (he  p}ked  Anchor  fast ; 
Beautie  was  all  (he  rockes.     But  i  at  last 
Am  now  tvvisefree,  and  ail  my  loue  is  past. 

Now  are  these,  or  are  tliey  not  n^ore  elegant  sonnets 
tlian  Sliakspeare's  ?  Surely  not.  They  \vaiit  his  moral 
cast;  Ills  unsopbisticalecl  materials;  his  pure  and 
natural  train  of  thought.  Only  let  us  contrast  them  by 
ohFStngle  specimen  taken  at  random. 

SuAKESPEAiiE*s  Sonnet  "tlV. 

O  how  much  more  doth  Beauty  beauteous  seem 
Cy  that  sweet  ornament,  which  truth  doth  give. 
The  rose  looks  fair  ;   but  fairer  we  it  deem 
For  tbftl  sweet  colour,  which  doth  in  it  live. 

Tht 


17 

The  canker  blooms  hare  full  as  deep  a  dye 
As  the  perfumod  tincture  of  the  roses  ; 
Hang  on  such  thorns,  and  play  as  wantonly 
When  summer's  breath  their  masked  buds  discloses  ; 

But  for  their  virtue  only  Is  their  shew, 
They  live  unwoo'd  and  unrespected  fade  • 
Die  in  themselTes.     Sweet  roses  do  not  so ; 
Of  their  sweet  deaths  are  sweetest  odours  made. 
A'nd  so  of  you,  beauteous  and  lovely  youth,* 
AVhen  that  shall  fade,  my  verse  distills  your  truth. 

Drayton's  sonnets  are  somewhat  of  the  same  class ; 
but  flowing  from  a  colder  vein.  Daniel's  are  better 
than  Drayton's.  But  I  am  in  doubt  where  to  place 
Sydney's.  Those  prefixed  to  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen 
are  the  best  of  that  poet ;  and  better  than  Warton  will 
allow  them  to  be.  Ellis  in  his  Specimcnst  has  given 
one  or  two  by  Barnaby  Barnes  from  his  Divine  Centime 
of  Spiritual  Sonnets,  1595,  which  are  excellent.  Drum- 
niond's  of  Hawthornden,  which  are  many  of  them 
beautiful,  both  for  sentiment  and  description,  are  not 
classed  with  them,  because  they  are  of  half  a  century 
later.  Perhaps  there  are  not  above  100  sonnets  in  the 
whole  language,  which  are  perfectly  good,  if  we  con- 
fine them  to  the  strictness  of  the  Petrarcliian  form. 
Among  them  are  one  or  two  of  Edwards's,  one  or  two  of 
Tom.  Warton;  one  or  two  of  John  Bampfylde;  one  or 
two  of  Mrs.  Smith  and  Miss  Seward ;  and  above  all 
tw  o  or  three  of  Kirke  W  hite.  I  speak  not  of  the  living ; 
from  whom  I  could  produce  a  few  admirable  specimens. 
Nor  have  I  thought  it  necessary  to  point  out  those  ma- 
jestic ones  of  Milton,  which  are  on  the  lips  of  every  cul- 
tivated reader. 

B. 
April  6,  181 1. 


5  ^ir  Clep0,    MS. 

Mr.  "Weber  has,  among  other  Metrical  Romances, 
edited  that  entitled  "  Sir  Cleges"  from  a  copy  which, 

*  It  seems  as  if  this  was  one  of  those  Sonnets  iatended  ia  th« 
character  of  Venus  to  Adonis.  f  LI.  373. 

VOL.  IV.  C 


18 

ihougli  imperrect,  Tie  apprehends  to  l)e  unique. — TTe 
bas  very  iiiijeniojisly  imitated  tlic  style  of  trie  original  in 
a  few  supi)lementary  lines  \vliich  lie  has  attached  to  it. 
Accident,  however,  fiaving  thrown  in  my  way  a  manu- 
script containing  a  perfect  copy  of  tliis  romance,  1 
conceive  that  the  publication  of  itsgennine  conclusion 
may  possibly  afibrd  some  gratification  to  the  admirers  of 
our  early  poetry. 

The  manuscript  from  %vhich  I  have  extracted  it  is 
contained  in  the  Ashmolean  Collection  at  Oxford — By 
some  singular  oversight  it  has  not  been  mentioned  as  a 
separate  article  in  the  Oxford  Catalogue,  the  only  no- 
tice of  it  being  the  foliowihg,  "  So.  692'2i  Another  Poem 
by  the  same  author  (Ric.  Holle)  GO.  Vide  ctiam  num. 
61."  The  No.  61  thus  cursorily  noticed  has  apparent- 
ly no  connection  with  the  works  of  R.  Rolle,  (the  writer 
of  the  Slbnuli/s  ConscienticB)  but  is  in  fact  a  miscella- 
neous collection  of  early  English  poetry,  chiefly  of  a 
religious  or  moral  nature;  in  addition  to  which  it  con- 
tains the  romances  of"  The  Erlcof  Tolous,"  "  I^ybeus 
Dysconius,"  "  Ysttmbras,"  "  King  Orfeas,"  and 
*'  Syr  Clegys."  The  latter  in  general  corresponds  with 
the  copy  edited  by  Mr.  Weber,  although  (as  is  usually 
the  case  in  different  MSS.  of  poems  of  this  description) 
it  occasionally  varies  in  its  language.  The  concluding 
stanzas  run  thus  : 

Thf  Castell  of  CardyfF  also 
\Vith  all  the  *pourtenas  ther  to 
,  To  hold  with  pes  &  +grythe. 

'ill  \  v\-\  /•'I'han  he  made  bym  hys  Steuerd 
Of  all  hys  londys  afterwerd  ; 
Of  Water,  lond,  &  frythe  ; 
A  +Cawpe  of  gold  he  gafe  bym  biythe 

To  here  to  Dam  Clarys  hys  wyfe 

Tokening  of  Joy  &  rayrthe. 

The  Kyng  made  hys  Son  Squyre 
And  gafe  hym  a  Coler  for  to  were 

*  Appurtenances. 

t  Peace,  XfllS'  A.  S.   from  tie  same  source  perhaps  as  th? 

Latin  gratus,  the  French  gr6,  and  the  Greek  x*f*f» 
X  A  Mautle,  Copa. 

^Yil^l 


19 

Wytb  a  hundryth  pownd  of  rente, 
Wlit'n  thei  com  home  in  this  nianere 
Dame  Clarys  that  Lady  clere 

Sche  thaukyd  God  verament 
Sihe  thankyd  God  of  all  mancre 
For  sche  had  both  knyght  &  squyre 

Some  what  to  this  entente.* 

Upon  the  dcttys  that  thei  hyght 
Thei  paid  als  fast  as  thei  myght 

To  every  man  with  content : 
A  gentyll  steward  he  was  hold, 
Alimenhyra  knew  zong  &  old, 

In  lond  wher  that  he  wente 
Ther  fell  to  hym  so  grete  ryche3 
He  +Tansyd  hys  lyne  more  &  les, 

The  knyzht  cnrtas  &  hende  : 
Hys  Lady  &  he  lyved  many  yere 
With  joy  &  merri  chere, 

Tyll  God  dyde  for  them  sende, 
For  their  godness  that  thei  did  here 
Their  sawlys  went  to  Hevyn  clere 

There  is  joy  withouten  end. 

The  MS.  is  a  long:  narrow  folio  on  paper,  written 
apparently  about  the  year  1450. 

C. 


5  T/ie  fyrst  boke  of  the  Introduction  of  Knowledge. 
T/ie  wJujch  dothe  teache  a  man  to  spealce  parte  of  all 
mancr  of  languages,  and  to  know  the  -csage  and 
fashion  of  all  maner  of  countreys.  And  for  to  know 
the  moste  parte  of  all  maner  of  coynes  of  money ^  the 
whyche  is  currant  in  euery  region.  Made  by  Andrew 
Burde,  of  Physycke  Doctor.  Dedycatedto  the  right 
honorable  <^  gracio^  lady  Mary  daughter  of  our 
souerayne  Lorde  King  Henry  the  eyght.  [VVood 
cut  to  fill  the  puj^e.  Colophon,]  Imprinted  at  LoU' 
don  in  Fleetestrete,  at  the  Signe  of  the  Rose  Garland, 

*  I  cannot  clearly  see  the  connection  of  this  line  with  the  con- 
text. It  is  possible  that  a  prayer  of  the  lady's  originally  followed 
it,  which  may  have  been  omitted  by  the  transcriber. 

t  Advanced. 

c2  by 


20 

by  me  William  Copland.  *  Then  the  mark  or  ana- 
r  gram  of  Robert  Copland  in  a  circle  of  roses  with  fo- 
liage :  the  nameof  William  C.  on  a  ribband  underneath, 
and  a  rose  and  pomegranate  if>  the  upper  corners, 
the  whole  enclosed  in  a  line  border.  [Sec  Herbert,  p. 
348.]  qto.  extends  Niiij. 

Alfidrew  Boorde  was  an  eminent  physician  of  the 
time  of  Henry  the  Vlllth  ;  and  considerable  popularity 
attached  to  his  various  literary  works.  Upon  the 
authority  of  the  subject  of  the  present  article  he  is 
registered  by  Wood  as  an  Oxonian  ;t  his   Breviaiy  of 

Health 


*  A  copy  m  the  Bodleian  library,  among  Selden's  books,  4to.  B. 
5,  6,  was  "  Imprented  at  London  in  Lothbury  oner  ug;iynstc 
Sainch  Margarytes  church  by  roe  Wyllyaai  Copland."  It  contains 
the  same  number  of  leaves, 

t  Ath.  Oxonienses,  vol.1,  col.  74.  Wood  refers  to  chapter  xxxr 
of  the  present  work  as  an  authority  for  fonsidenng  our  author 
educated  at  the  University.  That  "  chapter  treateth  of  the  Latyn 
man  and  the  English  nia."  As  the  Latyn  man  "  dwels  in  euery 
place"  no  description  of  country  could  follow  the  introductory 
verses,  and  the  remainder  of  the  chapter  is  a  specimen  of  the 
language  as  "  Englyshe  and  some  Latyne  doth  folow,"  The  fol- 
lowing 13  the  passage  referred  to  : 

""What  countrey  man  art  thou?     Cuias  es  ? 

I  was  home  in  England  and  brought  vp  at  Oxforde. 

Natus  tram  in  Angiia  ct  educatut  oxutii. 

Doest  not  thou  know  me  ?     Noscis  ne  mc  f 

I  know  thee  not.     Minime  te  nosca. 

What  is  thy  name?     Cuius  nominis  et  ? 

My  name  is  Andrew  borde. 

Andreas  parfuratus  est  meum  nomen. 

How  haue  you  fared  many  a  day  ? 

Qua  valitudine  fuis:  I  longo  iam  tempore  f 

I  haue  faryd  very  wel  thankes  be  to  God. 

'Optime  me  habui  siruciurum  acetones  sunt  deo. 

I  am  very  glad  of  it.     Fiurimum  gaudio  inde. 

VVhyther  dwst  thou  go  now .'     Quous  tendis  modo  f 

I  go  towerd  London.     Versus  londinum  lustra. 

"NVhat  hast  thou  to  do  ther  ?     Quid  illie  tiln  negoci  est  f 

I  shal  ease  my  mynd  ther.    A iiimo  vieomorem  gessero  illis, 

Ilclth  be  to  you  al.  Salus  iit  omnibus.". . . . 
The  author  introducing  his  own  name  seems  the  only  ground 
upon  which  Wood  and  other  writers  can  suppose  lie  was  an 
Oxonian.  Tlie  dialogue  is,  in  other  respects,  similar  to  antecedent 
ones:  Of  Scotland  we  have"  What  countryman  be  you? — 1  am 
a  joodfelow  of  the  Scotyshe  bloud."-«-.In  the  language  of"  grece 

and 


Health  is  noted  as  "  tbe  first  written  of  that  faculty  in 
Enelish,"  by  Fuller;*  again, as  a  miscellaneous  wriiei  by 
Berkenhout ;+  nor  has  his  *'  ryiiicdogreir'been  thouglit 
unworthy  the  attention  of  Warton4.  The  insertion  of 
his  life  and  portrait  in  a  modern  miscellany  was  proi)a- 
bly,  from  his  Mad  Men  of  Gotham^,  and  being  re- 
putedly considered  the  original  Merry  Andrew.]] 

}\h  Introduction  to  Knowledge^  is  divided  into  37 
chapters,  containing  many  genuine  traits  and  charac- 
teristical  notices  of  the  various  countries  he  visited. 
Wood  cuts  as  illustrative  of  the  national  characters  are 
prefixed  to  the  chapters,  and  vl?l)ich  may  be  found  in 
other  works  printed  by  Copland  to  represent  kings, 
saints,  nuns,  astrologers,  knights,  dames,  groups  of 
figures,  age  and  youth, 5  &c.  Several  may  be  found  in 
the  Kalendar  of  Shepherds,  and  the  Scotchman  is 
exhibited  by  the  dramatic  Jack  Juggler.**  Of  no  better 
authority  is  the  one  before  chap.  vii.  representing  a 
person  seated  at  a  desk  and  having  "  Doctor  Boorde" 
printed  at  the  sinister  corner,  chief;  for  which  purpose 
that  part  of  the  block  has  been  pared  away:  the  figure 
is  laureated  and  was  probably  an  imaginary  portrait  cut 
for  one  of  the  early  Latin  poets.     I  have  on  a  former 

and  constantinenople"  is  "  Syr  from  whens  do  you  come? — I  did 
come  fro  Englad :"  and  in  same  chapter,  wliere  "  trewe  grek 
foloweth,"  occurs,  "  Syr  whych  is  the  way  to  Oxford? — Syr  you 
be  in  the  right  way."  This  interrogation  being  made  in  Greece 
stamps  the  whole  as  common  place' dialogue.  And  in  the  account 
of  England  he  only  observes  there  "is  the  thyrde  aiityke  vniuersite 
of  the  worlde  named  Oxford;  and  there  is  another  noble  vniuersitie 
called  Cambridge." 

*  Worthies  of  England,  ed.  1811.  vol.  ii.  p.  76. 

t  Biographia  Literaria,  p.  286. 

I  History  of  English  Poetry,  vol.  iii.  p.  70.  Warton  say?, 
"  Borde's  name  would  not  have  been  now  remembered,  haa  he 
wrote  only  profound  systems  in  medicine  and  astronomy.  He  is 
known  to  posterity  as  a  buffoon,  not  as  a  philosopher."  Wood 
remarks  he  "  was  esteemed  a  noted  poet,  a  witty  and  ingenious 
person  and  an  excellent  pliysician.''    He  died  April  1549,    ' 

§See  British  Bibl  vol.  ii.p.  67,8. 

II  Wonderful  Magazine. 

%  Same  as  used  tor  "  Spare  your  good"  by  De  Worde.  Cent. 
JAferaria,  vol.  ix.  p.  37.3. 

»*  Described  in  Bibliographer y  vol.  1.  p.  400. 

supposed 


it 


occasion  poinfcd  out  a  similar  deception  in  another 
supposed  resemblance  of  Boorde.*  The  first  clujpter 
has  a  whimsical  representation,  ^vhich  was  probably 
borrowed  from  the  ltalian+,  of  an  Erjgli,shm;>n  naked 
with  a  piece  of  cloth  and  a  pair  of  shears  as  unable  to  con- 
clude in  what  shape  to  fashion  his  garment. + — Such  is  the 
medley  of  typographic  ornaments  to  embellish  a  volume 
that  is  become  so  rare  that  the  late  Mr.  West  believed  no 
other  copy ^  than  the  one  before  rae  was  known.  !|  It 
now  belongs  to  the  collection  of  Mr.  Bindley,  whose  suc- 
cessive loans  for  the  Bibliographer  are  too  numerous  to  be 
always  noticed,  and  whose  assistance  is  too  liberal  not  to 
claim  a  remembrance  beyond  private  acknowledgment. 

By  the  dedication 

*'  To  the  ryght  honorable  and  gracyous  lady  Mary 
doiighter  of  our  souorayne  Lorde  Kyng  Henry  the  VTII, 
Andrew  horde  of  phisyk  doctor  doth  surrender  humble  com- 
mendacion  wyth  honour  and  helth. 

"  After  that  I  had  dwelt  (most  gracyous  Lady)  in  Scot- 
lande,  and  had  trauayled  thorow  and  round  about  all  the 
regions  Christynte  and  dwelling  in  Moiitpyler,  remembryng 
your  bountyful  goodncs,  pretended  to  make  thys  first  booke 
named  the  Introduction  of  Knowledge  to  your  grace,  the 
Tvhyche  boke  dothe  teache  a  man  to  speake  parte  of  al  maner 
of  languages,  and  by  it  one  maye  knowe  the  vsage  and 
fashyon  of  all  maner  of  countres  or  regions,  and  also  to 
know  the  moste  part  of  all  maner  of  cojnes  of  mony  that 
whych  is  currant  in  euery  prouince  or  region,  trustyng  that 
your  grace  will  accept  my  good  wyll  and  dylvgent  labour 
in  Chryste,  who  kepe  your  grace  in  health  and  honor.     Fro 

*  See  Cens.  Literaria,  vol.  vii.  p.  28. 

t  Sec  Cori/afs  Crudiiics,  vol.  li.  p.  3-1.  modem  edit.  Chetwind^s 
Historical  Colled iunn,  p.  6i.  Bulner''s  Artijic.  Changeling,  p.  556, 
and  Brit.  Bihliographer,  vol.  ii.  p.  173. 

J  A  fac  simile  ol"  this  wood-cut  will  be  introduced  by  Mr.  Dib- 
dni  into  the  Ti/poiiraphicol  Antiquities,  in  the  accotintof  Copland  ; 
accompanied  with  Boord's  description  in  verse,  which  has  been 
inaccurately  given  in  Camden's  Remains  and  thence  copied  into 
Mrs.  Cuop« t's  Muses  Library. 

$  There  is  another  in  the  Ciietham  library,  at  Manchester. 

jl  See  No.  1643  in  West's  Catalogue,  1773,  when  this  "  strange 
conceited  book,"  as  Patorson  describes  it,  sold  lor  only  1/.  16s. 
Auain  No.  1900  in  Major  Pearson's  sale,  178B,  when  ii'sold  for 
4/riSf. 

jMountpyler 


23 

Alountpyler*  the  ill  daye  of  May  the  yere  of  our  Lorde. 
M.CCCCC.xlii."  '        • 

It  setms  probabls,  that  at  that  period,  an  Enj^lishmari 
on  his  visit  to  Scotlaiid,  had  to  contend  with  much  caution 
and  jealonsy  upon  tlie  part  of  the  natives,  if  not  infre- 
quently with  personal  danerer.  He  makes  the  Scotch- 
man declare  "  trew  I  am  to  Frauncc"  and  "  an  Enj^lysh- 
nian  I  cannot  naturaHy  'one,  wherfore  I  oflend  tliem." 
He  also  says,  "  It  is  naturally  geuen,  or  els  it  is  of  a 
deuy'lyshe  dysposicion  of  a  scotyshma  not  to  lone 
nor  f iU(  ur  an  englyshema.  And  I  bcyns:  there  and 
dwellynge  amon<z;e  them  was  hated  but  my  scyenccs 
&  other  polyces  dyd  kepe  me  in  fauotlr  that  I  dyd 
know  theyr  secretes."'  This  circumstance  might  be  his 
reason  for  making  the  assertion  in  the  dedication  of 
having  dwelt  there,  and  tiie  same  country  is  again  par- 
ticularised at  the  hear!  of  the  seventh  chapter,  which 
being  one  where  our  author  speaks  only  of  himself  and 
"vvork  is  now  selected. 

''The  VI  r.  Chapytre  shevveth  howe  the  auctor  of  thys 
boke  how  he  had  dwelt  in  Scotland,  and  other  Ilandos  ;  did 
go  thorow  and  rounde  about  Christendom,  and  oute  of  chris- 
tendome  ;  deciaryiige  the  properties  of  al  the  regions,  coun- 
treys,  and  prouynces,  the  wliiche  he  did  trauel  thorow. 

Of  noble  England,  of  Ireland  and  of  Wales, 
And  also  of  Scotland  1  haue  tolde  som  tales  ; 
And  of  other  Ilondes  I  haue  shewed  my  mynd  ; 
lie  that  wyl  trauell,  the  truthe  he  shal  fynd : 
After  my  conscyence  I  do  wryte  truly, 
Although  that  many  men  wyl  say  that  I  do  lye : 
13ut  for  that  matter  I  do  not  greatly  pas, 
But  I  am  as  I  am  but  not  as  [  was  : 
And  where  my  metre  is  ryuie  dogrell, 
'J'he  effect  of  the  whych,  no  wise  man  wyl  dopell. 
For  he  wyl  take  the  effect  of  my  mynde, 
Although  to  make  meter  1  am  full  biynde. 

**  For  as  muche  as  the  most  regall  realme  of  England  is 
cytuated  in  an  angle  of  the  worlde,  hauingno  region  in  chrys- 
tcndom  nor  out  of  chrystendora  equiualent  to  it.     The  como. 

*  In  chap,  xxvii  he  says,  **  Mupilioris  the  most  nohilist  vniiier- 
site  of  the  world  for  phisicions  and  surgions,"  Ho  is  supposed  to 
have  had  his  degree  conferred  upon  him  at  that  plate. 

dyties 


24 

dytiM,  the  qualite&  the quantyte,wyth  other  and  many  thynges 
considered  Mithin  &  aboute  the  sayd  noble  realme,  wherefore 
vf  1  were  a  lewe,  aTiirke,  oraSarasyn,  or  any  other  infidel!, 
i  yet  must  prayse  &  laud  it,  and  so  -wold  euery  man  yf 
thpy  dyd  know  of  other  cotrees  as  well  as  England,  wher- 
fore  all  nacyons  aspyeng  thys  rfalme  to  be  so  comodyous  ancj 
pleasaunt  they  haue  a  confluence  to  it  more  than  to  any 
other  regyon.  I  haue  trauayled  rownd  about  chrystendom 
and  ouf  of  christedom,  and  I  dyd  neuer  se  nor  know  vii 
Englyshe  men  dwellynge  in  any  towne  or  cyte  in  anye 
regyon  by  yond  the  see  except  marchauntes,  students,  & 
brokers,  not  theyr  beyng  parmanentnor  abydyng,  but  resort- 
ing thyther  for  a  space.  In  Englande  howe  many  alyons 
hath  and  doth  dwell  of  all  maner  of  nacyons,  let  euery  man 
judge  the  cause  why  and  wherefore  yf  they  haue  reason  to 
perscrute  the  matter.  I  haue  also  shewed  my  mynde  of  the 
realme  of  lerlande,  Wales,  and  Scotland  and  other  londes 
pretendyng  to  shew  of  regyons,  kyngdoms,  coutreys  and 
prouinces  of  Affrycke.  As  for  Asia  I  was  neuer  in,  yet  I  do 
■wryte  of  it  by  aiictours  cronycles  &  by  the  wordes  of 
credyble  parsons  the  whiche  haue  trauelled  in  those  partyes. 
But  concernyng  my  purpose,  and  for  my  trauellyng  in, 
thorow  and  round  about  Europ,  whiche  is  all  chrystendom.* 

I  dyd 

*  Professional  pursuits  served,  as  well  as  curiosity,  to  promote 
his  travels.  To  preserve  the  health  of  a  small  band  of  English 
pilgrims  upon  their  visit  to  the  shrine  of  St.  James,  he  volunteered 
his  service  as  a  guide,  and  amusingly  debcribes  the  journey, 
where 

"  The  xxxii  chapter  treteth  of  the  kigdonic  of  Nauer.'' — "  Whan 
(he  sajs)  I  dyd  dwell  in  the  vniuersitie  ofOrljilce  casually  going 
ouer  the  bredge  into  the  towne  I  dyd  mete  wyih  ix  Englyshe  and 
sKotyshe  parsons  goyng  to  saynt  composteil  a  pylgrjmage  to 
Saynt  James,  I  knowyng  theyr  pretence  aduertyscd  the  to  relume 
home  to  England,  saying  that  1  had  rather  to  gue  v  t_)  mes  out  of 
England  to  Rome,  and  so  )  had  indedc,  tha  ons  to  go  from  orl}'- 
ance  to  composttll :  saving  also  that  if  I  had  byn  worrhy  to  be  of 
the  kyng  of  englandes  counsel  such  parsons  a*s  wolde  take  such 
iornes  on  them  wythout  hys  lyceiices  I  wold  set  them  by  the 
fete.  And  that  I  had  rather  Uiey  should  dye  in  Ejigland  thcrov.e 
my  indiistrj'  than  they  to  kyll  them  selfe  by  the  way,  wyth  other 
woides  I  had  to  them  of  exasperacyon.  They  not  regardyng  my 
wordes  norsavingcs,  sajd,  that  they  wolde  go  forth  in  their 
iourney  and  woldc  dye  b^  the  way  rather  than  to  returne  hon)e. 
I  hauynge  pitic  they  should  Le  cast  away  pojntcd  them  to  my 
hostage  and  went  to  dispache  my  lusincs  in  the  vniutrsuc  of 
Orliaunce.    And  after  that  I  went  w\th  them  in  tlicvr  iV.rney 

thorow 


I  dyd  wryte  a  booke  of  euery  region,  countre,  and  prouynce, 
shewynge  the  myles,  theleeges  and  the  dystaunce  from  rytie 
to  cytie,  and  from  towne  to  towne.  And  the  cyties  & 
townes  names  wyth  notable  thynges  within  the  precyncte  or 
about  the  sayde  cytyes  or  townes,  wyth  many  other  thynges 
longe  to  reherse  at  this  tyme,  the  whiche  boke  at  bishops 
waltam  viii  mylefrom  Wynchester  in  hapshyre  one  Thomas 
Cromwell  had  it  of  rae  ;  and  bycause  ho  had  many  matters 
of  to  dyspache  for  al  England  my  boke  was  loste  y'  which 
might  at  this  presente  tyme  baue  holpen  me  and  set  me  for- 
ward in  this  matter.*  But  sv  tb  y'  1  do  lacke  the  aforesayde 
booKe  humbly  I  desyre  all  men  of  what  nacyon  soeuer  they 
be  of,  not  to  be  discontent  wyth  my  playne  wrytyng  and 
that  I  do  tell  the  trewth,  for  1  do  not  wryte  ony  thynge  of  a 
malycious  nor  of  a  peruerse  mynde  nor  for  no  euyll  pre- 
tence, but  to  manyfest  thinges  y'  whiche  be  openly  knowen. 
And  the  thynges  that  I  dyd  se  in  many  regyons,  cytyes,  and 
countryes  openly  vsed.  Pascall  the  playn  dyd  wi-yte  and 
preach  manifest  thinges  that  were  ope  in  the  face  of  the 
worlde  to  rebuke  sin  wyth  the  which  matter  1  haue  nothyng 
to  do,  for  I  doo  speke  of  many  countreys  &  regions,  and 
of  the  naturall  dysposicyon  of  the  inhabitonrs  of  the  same, 
with  other  necessary  thynges  to  be  knowen  specially  for 
them  the  whiche  doth  pretende  to  trauayle  the  countrees, 
regions  and  prouinces,  that  they  may  be  in  a  redines  to  know© 
■what  they  should  do  whan  they  come  there.  And  also  to 
know  the  money  of  the  coutre  and  to  speke  parte  of  the 
language  or  speach  that  there  is  vsed,  by  the  whiche  a  maa 
may  com  to  aforder  knowledge.     Also  I  do  not  nor  shall  not 

thorow  Fraunce  and  so  to  Burdions  &  Byon  &  than  we  en- 
tred  into  the  baryn  countrey  of  B;yskay  and  Castyle'  wher  we 
conlde  get  no  meate  for  money,  yet  wyth  great  honger  we  dyd 
come  to  Compostell ;  where  we  had  plentye  of  meate  and  wyne ; 
but  in  the  retornyng  thorow  Spayn  for  all  the  <  rafte  of  physycke 
that  I  coulde  do,  they  dyed  all  by  eatyn^e  of  frutes  and  drynkynge 
of  water,  the  whyche  I  dyd  euer  retiayne  my  selfe.  And  I  assure 
al  the  worlde  that  1  had  raihergoe  v  times  to  Rome  oute  of  Englond 
than  ons  to  Compostel ;  by  watres  it  is  no  pain,  but  by  land  it  is 
the  greatest  iurney  that  an  englyshmfi  may  go,  and  whan  I 
returnyd  and  did  come  into  Aquitany,  I  dyd  kis  the  ground  for 
ioy,  surrcndring  thaukcs  to  God  that  1  was  deliuered  out  of  greate 
ddungers  as  well  from  many  theues  as  from  honger  and  colde,  and 
y«  1  was  come  into  a  plentilnl  country,  for  Aquitany  nath  no  telow 
lor  good  wyne  &  bred." 

*  Printed  by  llearne  in  the  Benedictvs  Albas,  i735.  See  aula 
vol,  ii.  p.  69. 

dispraue 


26 

dispraue  no  man  in  this  booke  perticulerly  but  manifest 
thinges  I  doo  wryt©  openly  and  generally  of  comin  Tsages  for 
a  geuerall  coniodite  and  ■\veltb.*' 

As  a  specimen  of  the  description  he  thus  **  treateth 
of  Norway  and  of  Islonde." 

*'  1  am  a  poore  man  borne  in  Norway 

Hawkrs  and  f)sh  of  me  marchauntes  do  by  all  daye 

And  I  was  borne  in  islond,  as  brute  as  a  beest, 

"Whan  I  ete  candels  ends  I  am  at  a  fcest 

Talow  and  raw  stockfysh  I   do  lout;  to  ete 

In  my  countroy  it  is  right  good  meate, 

Raw  fysh  and  fl<  sh  I  eate  when  f  haue  nede 

Vpon  such  meatus  I  do  loue  to  feed, 

Lytle  1  do  care  for  malyns  or  masse, 

And  for  any  good  rayment  I  do  neuer  pass3 

Good  beastes  skyns  I  do  loue  for  to  were, 

Be  it  the  skins  of  a  wolfe  or  of  a  bearo. 

*'  Norway  is  a  great  llond  compassed  abowt  almost  wyth  the 
see,  the  countre  is  very  colde,  wherefore  'hey  haue  lytle 
corne,  and  lytle  bread  and  drynke,  the  (ountre  is  wylde 
and  there  be  many  rewde  people.  Thoy  do  l)ue  by  fyssh- 
yng  and  hunlyng.  Ther  be  many  castours  and  wliyte 
beares  and  other  mosterous  beastes :  there  be  welies  the 
•whyche  doth  tourne  Wood  into  Irone,  In  somer  there  be 
many  dales  that  the  sunne  doth  neuer  go  downe  but  is  con- 
tinuallye  daye.  And  in  many  dayes  in  wynter  it  is  styll 
night.  In  Norwaye  ther  be  good  hawkes,  ther  is  lytle 
money,  for  they  do  barter  there  fysh  and  hawkes  for  mele 
and  shoes  and  other  Marchaundies."  .  .  .  .* 

*' The  XXXIII  Chapter  tieateth  of  Bion  and  of  Gascony 
and  of  lytle  briten  and  of  the  natural  disposicion  of  the  people 
and  of  theyr  money,  and  of  they r  specbe. 

*  Norway  hawkes  were  particularly  esteemed  and  bore  the 
largest  price.  In  describing  "the  naturall  dysposycyon  of  a 
sclondder  and  holjider,"  he  says, 

♦'  We  haue  harucst  heryiig,  and  good  hawkes, 

Whan  ^reat  elys,Hnd  also  great  walkes." 
Adding  "  Selond  and  Iloland  be  projier  and  fayre  Hands,  and 
there  is  plei.ty  of  barelled  butter  the  whych  is  resty  and  salt,  and 
there  is  cheese  &  bering,  falnioiis,  elys  He  lytic  other  fysh  >'.  I  did 
se,  therbe  many  goshawkes  and  other  hawkes  &  wyld  fowle." 
Where  he  also  tells  us"  they  be  gentyjl  people  but  they  do  not 
fauer  skoltysh  men," 

1  was 


27 

"  I  was  bornte  in  bion  *ns  en:;lish  I  was, 

If  [  had  be  so  <ityl  1  wold  nut  gretly  pas. 

Ami  I  was  brought  vp  ia  gentyl  gascony, 

For  my  good  wyne  I  get  motioy. 

And  1  was  borne  in  litlo  britten 

Of  al  nacions  I  free  englyshemen. 

Whan  they  be  angry  lyke  bees  they  do  swarme, 

I  be  shromp  thetn  they  haue  dou  me  much  harme. 

Although  I  n^  my  hosen  &  my  garment  roundeaboute 

Yet  it  is  a  vantage  to  pick  pendiculus  owt. 

'*  As  toch?nge  byon  the  towne  is  commodiouse,  but  the 
country  is  poor  and  barin,  in  the  whiche  be  many  theues ; 
ther  is  a  place  calyd  the  hyue,  it  is  fyuete  or  Ix  myle  ouer, 
there  is  nothynge  but  heth  and  there  is  no  place  to  haue 
succour  within  vii  or  eyght  myles,  and  than  a  man  shall  haue 
but  a  typling  house.  'J'he  women  of  Byon  be  dysgysed  as 
players  in  enterludes  be  with  long  raiment,*  the  sayd  clokes 
hath  hodes  s[e]\ved  to  them,  and  on  the  toppe  of  the  hod  is 
a  long  thyng  like  a  poding  bekyng  forward. 

"  Gascony  is  a  commodiouse  country,  for  ther  is  plenty  of 
wyne,  bred,  &  corne,  and  other  vytells,  and  good  lodgyn^ 

and 

*  The  last  trace  of  this  stage  costume  was  in  the  person  who 
delivered  the  prologue  being  habited  in  a  long  black  velvet  cloak 
and  who  usually  entered  after  the  trumpet  had  sounded  thrice. 
In  Reed's  Shakspeare,  vol,  iii.  p.  120.  are  some  notices  upon  this 
subject,  and  in   the  Four  Frentises  of  London,  printed   1615,   the 
author  Thomas  Heywood,  introduces  a  dialogue  as  a  prologue. 
The  stage  direction  is  "  enter  three  in   blacke  clokes,  at  three 
doores,"  and  the  first  gives  the  following  description  of  his  cha- 
racter.    "  What  meane  you,  my  raaisters,  to  appeare  thus  before 
your  times  ?  Doe  you  not  know  that  I  am  the  Prologue?  Do  you 
not  see  this  long  black  veluet  clokc  vpon  my  ba'  ke  ?    Haue  you 
not  sounded  thrice?    Do  T  not  looke  pale,  as  fearing  to  bee  out 
in  my  speech  ?    Nay  haue  I  not  all    the  sigiies  of  a  Prologue 
about  me?     Then,  to  what  end  come  yen  to  interrupt  mee  ?" — 
At  what  time  this  practise  discontinued  is  uncertain  :   I  should 
conjecture  it  was  not   followed  upon  the   revival  of  theatrical 
exhibitions  after  the  restoration.     In  the  preface  to  the  Mj/alcries 
of  Love  nnd  Ehqtiencc  ;  or,  t/ie  Arts  of  Wooing  and  Corip/ementing, 
it  is  said,  "  When  playes  were  at  their  height,  prologues  were  so 
in  fashion  at  the  court,  and  so  desired  on  the  stage,  that  without 
tiiem  the  audience  could  not  be  pleased;  so  that  the  best  poets 
were  forced  to  satisfie  the  greedy  expectation  of  the  multitude, 
that  gaped  and  yawned   for  such  set  and  starcht  speeches  to  be 
gravely  delivcrtd  to  their  worships  by  the  man  in  the  long  cloak 
with  the  coloured  beardl."    'Third  Edition,  1685. 


28 

and  good  chere  and  gentle  people.  The  chefe  towne  of 
Gascoiiy  is  burdiousp,  and  in  the  cathedrall  rhurohe  of  saint 
Andreus  is  the  fairist  and  the  gretcst  paver  of  Orgyns  in  al 
crystendome  in  the  whyche  Orgins  be  many  instrumentes 
and  vyces  as  Gians  hodes  and  sterres,  the  whych  doth  raoue 
and  wagge  withtheir  iawcs  and  eyes*  as  fast  as  the  player 
playeth. 

Lytic  Brytanc  is  a  proper  and  a  commodiouse  countre  of 
^yne,  corne,  fysh,  fleshe,  &  the  people  be  hygh  mynded  & 
stubborne.  Thes  iti  countres  speketh  freiich  and  vsetb 
euery  thyng  as  wel  in  ther  mony  &  fashions  as  french 
men  doth.  Rochel  &  morles  is  praysed  in  Briten  to  be  the 
best  townes." 

We  shall  conclude  our  extracts  with  "  the  thyrde 
chapter  [which]  treateth  of  Irland,  and  of  the  naturall 
disposicion  of  an  Irishe  man  &  of  theyr  money  and 
speche. 

*<  I  am  an  Iryshc  man,  in  Irland  I  was  borne, 
I  loue  to  weare  a  saffron  shert,  allthough  it  be  to  tome. 
My  anger  and  my  hastynes  doth  hurt  rae  full  sore, 
I  cannot  leaue  it,  it  creaseth  more  and  more ; 
And  al  though  I  be  poore  I  haue  an  angry  hart; 
1  can  kepe  a  bobby,  a  gardyn,  and  a  cart. 
I  can  make  good  mantyls  and  good  Irysh  fryce ; 
I  can  make  aqua  vite  and  good  square  dyce. 
Pediculus  other  whyle  do  byte  me  by  the  backe 
'^^      Wherfore  dyuers  tymes  I  make  theyr  bones  cracke. 
1  do  loue  to  eate  my  meate  syttyng  vpon  the  ground, 
And  do  lye  in  oten  strawe,  slepyng  ful  sound. 
J  care  not  for  rychfs  but  for  meate  and  drynke, 
And  dyuers  tymes  I  wake  whaa  other  men  do  wynke. 
I  do  Tse  no  potte  to  seeth  my  meate  in, 
Wherfore  I  do  boyle  it  in  a  bestes  skyn : 
Than  after  my  meatp,  the  brothe  I  do  drynk  rp, 
1  care  not  for  no  maszer,  neyther  cruse  nor  cup, 
I  am  not  new  fangled  nor  neuer  will  be, 
I  do  lyue  in  pouerty  in  myne  owne  countre. 

**  Irland  is  a  kingdoship  longing  to  the  kyng  of  Kngland. 
It  is  in  the  west  parteof  y'  worldeA:lsdeuydediniipartes,onc  . 
isy*  englypale&thcothery'  wyld  Irysh.  TheEnglishpalcisa 

♦  The  same  extract  is  given  by  Warton  in  the  Hist,  of  Poetry, 
Tol.  iii  p.  76.  note,  and  varies  materially,  but,  I  understand,  he 
has  traustnbcd  it  correttly  trom  theBocUeiau  copy. 

good 


29 

good  countrey,  plentye  of  fyshe,  flesh,  wyld  foule,  &  come. 
'Ihere   be  good  towiies   &    cities,   as    Dulyn  &  Waterford 
where  y'english  fashion    is  ;   as  in  mea^e,  driuke,  other  fare 
&  lodgig.    The  people  of  the  englyshe   pale   be  metely  wel 
manerd,  Tsyng  the  english  tuge,  but  naturally,  they  be  testy, 
specyally  yf  they  be  vexed.    Yet  there  be  many  well  disposed 
people  aswel  in  the  english  pale,  as  in  the   wylde  Iryshe,    & 
rertuous  creatures  whan  grace  worketh  above  nature.    The 
other  parte  of  Irland  is  called  the  wilde  Irishe,  &  the  Red- 
shankes  be  among  them.   Thatcountrey  is  wylde  wast  and  vast; 
full  of  marcyces  &  moiitayos  &  lytle  corne,  but  they  haue 
flesh  sufficient,   &  litle  bread  or  none,  and  none  ale.     For  y' 
people  there  be  slouthfull,  not  regarding  to  sow  &  tille  theyr 
landes,  nor  caryng  for  ryches.     For   in  many  places   they 
care  not  for  pot,   pan,  kettyl,  nor  for  mattrys,  fether  bed, 
nor  such  implementes  of  houshold.     Wherfore  it  is  presup- 
pose y*  they   lack  maners  &  honesty,  &   be  vntaught  and 
rude  ;   the    which    rudenes    w'  theyr  nielocoly  complexion 
causeth  the  to  be  angry  &  testy  wythout  a  cause.     In  those 
partyes  they  wyll  eate  theyr  meat  syttyng  on  the  ground  or 
erth.     And  they  wyl  sethe  theyr  meat  in  a  beastes  skyn,  and 
the  skyn  shall  be  set  on  manye  stakes  of  wood  &  than  they 
wyll  put   in  the  water  and  the  fleshe :  And  than  they  wyl 
make  a  great  fyre  vnder  y*  skyn  betwyxt  the  stakes  &  the 
skyn  wyl  not  greatly  bren.     And  wha  the  meate  is  eaten 
they  for  theyr  drynke  wil  drynk  vp  the  brothe.     In  suche 
places  men  and  wome  wyll  ly  together  in  mantles  and  straw. 
There  be  many  the  which  be  swyfte  of  fote,  &  can  cast  a  darl 
perylously.     I  did  neuer  finde  more  amyte  and  loue  than  I 
haue  found  of  Iryshemen,  the  whyche  was  borne  within  the 
english  pale.     And  in  my  lyfe    I  dyd  neuer   know   more 
faythfuller  men  and   parfyt  lyuers  than  I  haue  knowen  of 
them.     In  Irlond  there  is  Saynt  Partryckes  purgatory,  the 
■whych,  as  I  haue  lerned  of  men  dwellyng  there  and  of  them 
that  hath  be  there,  is  not  of  that  effycacyte  as  is  spoken  of, 
nor  nothing  lyke.     Wherefore  I  do  aduertise  euery  ma  not 
haue  affyaunce  in  such  matters,  yet  in  lerland  is  stupedyous 
thynges,   for  there  is  neyther  pyes  nor  venymus  wormes : 
There  is  no  adder,  nor  snake,  nor  toode,  nor  iyzerd,  nor  no 
eiyt,  nor   none  such  lyke.     J   haue  sene  stones  the  whiche 
haue  had  the  forme  and  shap  of  a  snake  and  other  venimons 
wormes.     And  the  people  of  the  countre  sayth  that   suche 
stones  fvere  wormes,  and  they  were  turned  into  stones  by  the 
power  of  God  and  the  prayers  of  Saynt  Patryk.     And  en- 
glysh  marchauntcs  of  England  do  fetche  of  the  erth  of  Irlonde 

to 


so 

to  casfe  in  their  gardens  to  kepe  out  and  to  kyll  Tenimous 
■wormes.  Enj;lysli  money  goth  in  Irelond,  for  Irlod  belong- 
«th  to  r.nglaud,  for  the  kyoge  of  Englonde  is  kyng  of  Irlond. 
In  Irlond  thty  haue  Irysh  grotes  and  harped  grotes  &  Irysh 
pens." 

J.  H. 


f  "  The  laudable  lAfe^  and  Deplorable  Death,  of  our 
late  pecrlesse  Prince  Henry.  Brieflij  represented. 
Together  with  some  other  Poemes,  in  honor  bo/h  of  our 
most  gracious  Soueraigne  King  James,  his  auspicious 
entrie  to  this  Crowne,  and  also  of  his  most  hopefull 
Children,  Prince  Charles  and  Princesse  Elizabeths 
happy  entrie  into  this  world.  By  I.  M.  Master  of 
Aries.  London,  Prinlidhy  Edzv.  Aide,  for  Thomas 
Pauier,  dwelling  neere  the  Uoyall  Exchange,  at  the 
signe  of  the  Cats  and  Parrat.  1612."  4to.  not 
paged,  but  containing  twenty-one  pp. 

*'  To  ovr  late  peerlesse  prince  Henries  deere  brother  and 
iister,  prince  Charles  and  princesse  Elizabeth,  infants  of 
Albion,of  greatest  hope,  all  happiuesse. 

Thrise  hopefnll  Charles,  gracefull  Elizabeth 
Great  ilnia!aw%  Hearts.ioj,  Europs  brightest  beames 
Lo  what  my  Muse,  though  mournfull,  mused  hath 
In  laud  of  our  late  Lilly  of  Saint  James  : 

All  Europes  obiect,  and  the  flowre  of  Knights, 
Mirrour  of  man.hood,  wonderment  of  wights. 

The  Life  of  him  whom  euery  heart  did  loue, 
The  Death  of  him  whome  each  heart  doth  condole 
These  lines  doe  Hmme,  while  Christ  him  crownes  aboue  i 
And  that  his  fame  far  flee's  twixt  Pole  and  Pole: 
This  duties  birth  1  trust  ye  will  it  take 
In  the  best  worth,  for  worthy  Henries  sake. 
Of  your  Highnesses 

The  right  humble  Scruant : 

lames  Maxwell. 

TO  THE  READER. 

liO  heer's  the  pattern  of  Prince  Henri  e's  parts 
Of  Henries  foure  the  faire  epitomie, 
Learn'd  like  the  First ;  stout,  toward,  th'hope  of  hearts, 
5  Like. 


31 

liike  to  the  Fift  once  cheife  of  Chiualrie  : 
Like  to  the  Sixty  deiioutc,  mikie,  innocent, 
Like  to  the  Seau'/ith,  wise,  thriftie,  prouident. 

The  memorable  Life  and  Death  of  ovr  late  Peerelesse  Prince 
Henuie. 


Mans  life  full  well  is  likened  to  a  flower,* 
Which  growing  vp  doth  grace  a  gard'^n's  aire 
With  sweetest  smell,  but  withrpth  in  an  houre  : 
Or  else  is  plurkt  for  sent,  or  colour  faice  : 

Looke  on  these  lines  ;  they  shall  vnto  thjr  sence 

Of  this  likenesse  giue  perfect  euidence. 

2 

A  plant  of  price  thoy  offer  to  thy  riew, 
Pluckt  in  the  Sprin^j  by  the  great  Owner's  hand  ; 
Of  whom  each  flower  hath  being,  shape,  and  hue, 
And  at  whose  becke  they  florish,  fall  or  stand  : 
A  flower  which  twice  ten  sommers  had  not  scene, 
When  it  became  as  though  it  had  not  beene. 

3 

Great  Joue  one  day  as  he  did  walke  along. 

Did  find  this  flower,  so  fragrant,  faire  and  sweet. 

This  Lilly-rose  that  fild  all  Albion 

With  his  sweet  sent,  he  said  this  flower's  more  meete 
For  to  perfume  the  Paradise  of  Saints, 
Then  for  to  spring  among  earth's  fading  plants, 

*  The  anonymous  writer  of  "  Great  Brittans  Mourning  Gar- 
ment. Given  to  all  faithfull  sorrovvfuil  Subiects  at  the  Fimerall 
of  Prince  Henry.  London.  Iitipriated  by  G.  Eld,  for  Arthur 
.Tonson.  1612."  4to.  makes  the  same  comparison. 

*'  Who  in  some  earthly  Paradice  hath  espide, 
And  long  time  view'd  with  pleasure  of  his  eye 
A  wel!-growne  Plant,  adorn'd  on  euery  side 
With  beautious  blossomes  lifted  vp  on  high, 
Ready  when  his  due  season  shall  require, 
Toyeild  the  -jweet  fruite  of  his  boasted  flowers; 
But  all  on  sodaine  with  heauen's  liquid  fire 
Is  blasted,  and  on  earth  vntimel.y  powers. 

His  unripe  glorie  by  his  Fate  preuented: 
Who  such  a  luckles  spectacle  hath  knowne; 
Let  him  compare  the  fortune  then  presented 
Vnto  Prince  Henries  Fate."— ——' 

Which 


52 

4 

Which  hailing  said,  to  troupes  of  Angels  bright 
Post-haste  from  heau'n,  vpon  S.  Leonard's  day, 
In  thf  Spring  garden  at  Saint  James  alight. 
And  thence  oar  lonely  Lilly  fetch  away: 

Then  home  they  haste  scaling  the  starrie  skies, 
Leaning  behind  them  biacknes,  shrikes  and  cries." 

The  poet  then  describes  the  joy  expressed  by  the 
heavenly  choir,  and  the  grief  felt  by  mortals  at  llie 
attainment  on  the  one  side,  and  the  loss  sustained  by 
the  latter. 

*'  Angels  were  glad,  but  men  were  grieued  sore, 
Angels  did  sing,  whilst  men  did  shout  and  roare," 

and  proceeds  to  enumerate  the  prince's  piety,*  his  ab» 
stinence  from  swearing,  his  constant  attendance  upon 
divine  service,  and  at  the  preaching  of  sermons  ;  and 
characterises  him  as  admirably  skilled  in  divinity  and 
philosophy  ;  as  dutifull  to  his  parents,  affectionate  to- 
wards his  brother  and  sister,+  respectfuU  to  the  *'  Peeres, 
Pastors  and  Prelates ;"  and  as  possessing  '*  greate 
bumanitie,  mildncsse  and  affabilitie."  The  next  traits 
of  his  character  mentioned  by  Maxwell  are  his  liberality 
to  foreign  princes,  his  encouragement  to  his  servants 
(which  are  enumerated  at  seven  hundredX  whom  he 
daily  mauitained,  and)  who  were  none  but  those 

*'  Of  worthy  parts. 
For  valour,  warrefare,  languages,  or  arts." 

— his  propensity  to  planting,  building  and  repairing 
"  olde  ruins,'*  and  from  this  stanza  we  learn  that  through 
his  means  "  faire  Richmond  standing  by  the  Thames," 
and  Saint  James's  pallace  received  considerable  improve- 
ments. 

The 
*  "  It  was  his  daily  practise  twise  to  pray." 
t  Of  the  unfortunate  Elizabeth,  afterwards  Countess  Palatine, 
he  thus  speaks, 

"  £liza'$  grace,  one  of  the  Graces  three 
That  Princesse  rare  that  like  a  Rose  doth  florish, 
Filling  each  eye  with  her  milde  curte*ie: 
Whose  happie  breeding,  worthy  inclination, 
Makes  her  admir'd,  desir'd  of  euery  Nation." 
t  In  the  account  of  the  "  Fvnerals  of  the  high  and  mighty 
Prince  H£NaY,''4to.  1613.  "  Prince  Henry  his  houshold  scruants, 

accurdins 


33 

The  prince's  attention  to,  and  carefulness  in  reward- 
ing men  of  letters  is  next  recounted,  with  his  bounty  to 
soldiers  and  "  valiant  wights,"  and  his  own  excellence 
in  every  warlike  and  manly  exercise — his  moderation  in 
dress,  his  abstinence  from  all  excess  in  diet,  and  his 
detestation  of 

*'  Sloath  the  schoole-mistris  of  euill." 

the  poet  proceeds 

28 

"  With  -wine  or  Venus  neuer  was  defil'd 

The  rosie  body  of  this  worthy  wight, 

With  lust's  allurements  was  he  ne're  beguil'd  ; 

But  pure  and  chaste  remain'd  both  day  and  night : 
Henrt  the  Saint  that  worthy  Emperour, 
Was  not  more  chaste,  then  Henry  Britaine^s  floure. 

29 

A  wondrous  thing  it  is,  yet  very  sure, 
That  such  a  Prince  should  liue  so  continent. 
Where  were  so  many  obiects  to  allure 
His  eyes  and  eares,  his  senses  to  inchant : 
Sith  then  this  Soule  so  chaste  was  and  diuine. 
Let  all  chaste  hands  heape  Roses  on  his  shrine." 

The  fate  of  England's  prince  is  compared  to  that  of 

according  to  their  seueral  Offices  and  Degrees ;  with  Tradesmen 
and  Artificers  that  belonged  vnto  his  Highnesse,"  are  mentioned  as 
being  "about  306.''  Daniel  Price  in  his  second  sermon,*  thus 
addresses  them,  "  You  poore  soules  the  poore  silly  sheep  of  his 
flocke,  who  was  wont  to  giue  you  meate  in  due  season;  you  that 
like  those  in  lerutalem  doe  nrise  and  cry  in  the  night,"  etc. — "Heare 
Dauids  experience,  I  haue  beene  young  (saith  bee)  but  now  am 
old,  yet  I  neuer  saw  the  righteous  forsaken,  nor  his  seede  begging 
their  bread.  Honesty  is  the  best  Patrimony ;  h-iaue  a  good  report 
of  an  honest  life  behinde  you,  and  your  children  then  haue 
sufficient  legacies."    P.  41. 

*  "  Lamentations  for  the  death  of  the  late  illustrious  Prince 
Henri/ :  and  the  dissolution  of  his  religious  familie.  Two* sermons : 
Preached  in  his  Highnesse  Chappell  at  Saint  lames,  on  the  10.  and 
35.  day  of  Nouember,  being  the  first  Tuesday  and  Sunday  after  his 
decease.  By  Daniel  Price,  Chaplaine  then  in  attendance."  4to. 
Lond,  1613. 

roL.  IV.  B  the- 


34 

the  two  Henrjs*  of  Scotland,  and  Henryt  of  Hungary, 
his  disease,  which  "  ten  dayes  did  last,"  noticed,  and 
the  time  when  he  died  stated  to  be  the  same  month  in 
\vhich  Edmond  King  of  England  suffered  martyrdom  ; 
the  poem  then  continues 

35 
*'  Saint  Leonardos  day  neere  VAll  Saints  was  his  lait, 
That's  likewise  nam'd  Saint  Felix's  martyr.day, 
Saint  lames  they  call  the  place  from  whence  he  pa&t, 
In  th'armes  of  Saints  to  Hue  with  Saints  for  aye  : 
The  Persons,  Times,  and  Place's  circumsrance, 
Do  Henrie's  Soules  Saints  honour  all  aduaiice. 

36 
Lo  North's  bright  Star  thus  hath  of  late  gone  downe 
In  the  South-point  of  this  vnited  I^and  : 
His  too  swift  course  hath  made  him  set  too  soonc, 
When  as  his  beames  did  blase  o're  sea  and  sand. 

Our  Orbe  too  base  it  was  this  Starre  to  beare  ; 

For  it  was  worthy  of  an  higher  spheare. 

37 
Lo  the  rare  Pearle,  that  we  of  late  haue  lost, 
A  peerlesse  Pearle,  the  Load-stone  of  this  lie  ; 
VVhose  worth  did  drawe  from  euery  land  and  coast, 
The  eyes  of  strangers  many  thousand  mile  : 

Bat  this  heart»drawing  stone  great  lames  his  Gem 
More  worthy  was  t'adorne  loue's  Diadem. 

38 
Lo  how  the  fragrant  Lilly  of  this  land, 
The  hands  of  Angels  haue  pluckt  vp  in  haste, 
Presenting  it  into  lekouah's  hand  ; 
For  this  Rose.Lilly  did  become  him  best : 

Saints  Paradise  good  Lord  how  it  adornes  ! 

Where  floures  are  free  from  thistles  &  from  thorns. 

39 
A  Starr6,  a  Pearle,  a  Flowre  sith  we  haue  lost, 
Bright,  rare,  and  faire,  if  we  haue  cause  to  mourne — 

•  Oran{J  child  of  queen  Margaret,  eldest  daughter  of  Edward, 
son  of  Edmond  Ironside,  King  of  England  ; — and  tlie  great  great 
gjand  child  of  Margaret,  eldest  daagnter  of  Henry  the  Seventh, 
King  of  England. 

t  Henry  Eraerick  son  of  Stephen  King  of  Hungary,  died  young 
before  his  father. 

God 


55 

God  wot.*,  man  wote  ;   loe  that  which  cheerM  rs  most, 
Now  doth  it  to  our  greatest  sorrow  turne: 
Henrie  aliue  did  lighten  euery  part, 
But  Henrie  dead  sends  sorrow  to  each  heart." 
Maxwell  takes  this  opportunity  of  paying   liis  court 
to  the  rising  sun,  and  in  the  next  four  stanzas  we  find 
Charles  considered  as  the  only  person,  who  by  his  re- 
semblance in   person   and   mind  to   his   brother,   can 
assuage  the  sorrow,  and  *'  Jieale  the  heart-breake"  of 
the  nation ;  his  courage,  dexterity  and  wit  are  repre- 
sented as  wonderful,  and  his  partiality  to  the  "  Book 
diuine"  is  peculiarly  mentioned.    The  poem  then  con- 
cludes with   exciting  the  nation  to  bless  heaven  for 
having  bestowed    so    promising  a  substitute,   and  to 
entreat  that  prosperity  and  honour  may  crown  his  life 
and  actions ; — 

44 

<*  Brittans  blesse  God  for  such  a  toward  youth 

As  doth  succeede  in  our  braue  Henries  place  ; 

Pray  ynto  God  for  hira  with  mind  and  mouth  ; 

VVish  him  alwaies  the  heape  of  hap  and  grace  ; 
That  sweet  Charles  may  for  euer  flourish  till 
That  great  Charles  chaire  with  honours  hlght  he  fill." 

Seven  epitaphs  follow  on  the  prince  "  in  his  owne  foure 
languages*,''  then  "  a  poeme  shewing  how  that  both 
Theologie  and  Astrologie,  doe  pronounce  the  time  of 
his  Maiesties  entring  to  this  crowne,  to  be  auspicious 
and  happy,"  consisting  of  fourteen  stanzas,  and  "  a 
Poerae  shewing  the  Excellencie  of  our  Soucraigne  King 
James  his  hand,  that  giueth  both  health  and  wealth, 
instanced  in  his  Cnring  of  the  Kings  euill  by  touching 
the  same,  in  hanging  an  Angell  of  Gold  about  the  neck 
of  the  diseased,  and  in  giuing  the  poorer  sort  money 
towards  the  charges  of  their  iournie,'*  of  fourteen  more  ; 
which,  with  another  poem  of  ten  stanzas  presented  to 
the  king  on  May  day;  and  one  to  Charles  of  twenty- 
two,  and  Elizabeth  of  thirteen  more,  comprise  the 
volume.  As  a  sufficient  specimen  has  already  been 
given  of  Maxwell's  poetical  talents  1  forbear  making 
further  extracts,  and  shall  only  observe  that  he  displays 
more  knowledge  and  reading  in  his  notes  and  references, 

•  English,  French,  Latin,  and  Greek. 

» 2  (with 


(with  which  the  volume  abounds,)  than  poetical  ability 
or  harmonious  versification  in  his  lines,  the  former,  with 
all  their  astrological  inconsistency,  contain  useful  in- 
formation, tlie  latter  are  in  general  destitute  of  taste, 
strength  or  melody. 

B.  L.  O. 


5  *'  An  Epicede  or  Funerall  Song :  On  the  most  dis- 
astrous I)eathj  of  the  High-borne  Prince  of  Men, 
Henry  Prince  of  Wales,  Sfc.  With  the  FuneraUsy 
and  Representation  of  the  Herse  of  the  same  High 
and  mighty  Pfince;  Prince  of  Wales^  Duke  of 
Comewaile  and  Rothsay,  Count  Palatine  of  Chester, 
Earle  of  Carick,  and  late  Knight  of  the  most  Noble 
Order  ^the  Garter,  Which  Noble  Prince  deceased 
at  St.  James,  the  sixt  day  of  Nouember,  J 6 12,  aud 
teas  most  Princely  interred  the  seuenth  day  of  Decern' 
her  following,  within  the  Abbey  of  Westminster,  in 
the  Eighteenth  yeere  of  his  Age,  London :  Printed 
by  T.  S.  for  John  nudge,  and  are  to  bee  souldat  his 
shop  at  the  great  south  dore  of  Paules,  and  at 
Brittanes  Bursse.     1612.'* 


Quarto,  containing  in  all  iSfly  two  pages,  not  numbered, 
the  page  preceding  the  title  to  the  poem,  and  the 
account  of  the  funeral  (which  is  separate,)  black,  with 
crest,  initials,  and  motto  on  a  small  white  ground,  and 
a  large  plate  of  Henry  on  his  tomb,  with  arms,  H.  P. 
etc.  and  four  Latin  lines  by  Hugh  Holland,  and  four 
in  English  by  George  Chapman,  at  the  base. 

The  poem  which  follows  the  account  of  the  Prince's 
funeral  is  dedicated  by  Chapman,  the  author,  to  his 
**  affectionate,  and  trve  friend,  Mr.  Henry  Jones." 

We  transcribe  his  account  of  the  prince's  last  mo- 
tnents. 

♦*  And  now  did  Phcebus  with  his  twelfth  Lamp©*  6ho>r 

The  world  his  haples  light :   and  in  his  Brow 

A  Torch  of  Pitch  stuck,  lighting  halfe  t'half+  skies, 

When  life's  last  error  prest  the  broken  eyes 

Of  this  heart-breaking  Prince  ;   his  forc't  look  fled  ; 

Fltd  was  all  Colour  from  his  checkes,  yet  fed 

*  Maxwell  says  the  jirince  was  ill  ten  days.  t  So  for  the. 

Hi» 


His  spirit ;  his  sight,  with  dying  now,  he  cast 
On  his  kind  King,  his  Father,  on  whome,  fast 
He  fixt  his  fading  beames,  and  with  his  view 
A  little  did  their  empty  orbs  renew  : 
His  Mind  saw  him,  come  fro  the  deeps  of  Death, 
To  whome  he  said,  O  Author  of  my  Breath  : 
Soule  to  my  life,  and  essence  to  my  Soule, 
Why  grieue  you  so,  that  should  al  grlefe  cotroule  ? 
Death's  sweet  to  me,  that  you  are  stillife's  creature: 
I  now  haue  finisht  the  great  worke  of  Nature  : 
I  see  you  pay  a  perfect  Father's  debt. 
And  in  a  feastfull  Peace  your  Empire  kept. 
If  your  true  Sonnes  last  words  haue  any  right 
*•'>    In  your  most  righteous  Bosome,  doe  not  fright 
Your  hearkning  kingdomes  to  your  cariagenow  ; 
AH  yours,  in  mee,  1  here  resign  to  you, 
Ml/  youth  (J  pray  to  God  with  my  last  powres) 
,,  S  abstract  from  me  may  adde  to  you  and  yours. 
Thus  vanisht  he,  thus  swift,  thus  instantly  ; 
Ah  now  I  see,  euen  heauenly  powres  must  dye."— 

The  following  lines  are  hot  deficient  in  strength  or 
beauty. 

*'  On  on  sad  traine,  as  from  a  crannid  rocke 
Bee-swarmes  rob'd  of  their  honey,  fceasles  flock. 
Mourne,  mourne,  dissected  now  his  cold  lims  lie, 
Ah,  knit  so  late  with  flame  and  Maiestie. 
Where's  now  his  gracious  smile,  his  sparkling  eie. 
His  ludgement.  Valour,  Magnanimitie  ? 
O  God  what  doth  not  one  short  hour  snatch  Tp 
Of  all  man's  glosse  ?" — etc. 

The  volume  concludes  with  three  epitaphs  not  wor- 
thy of  preservation, 

B.  L.  O. 


f  Great  Briitans  Mourning  Garment,  given  To  all 
faithfuU  sorrawfull  Subiects  at  the  Funerall  of  Prince 
HENRY.  London.  Imprinted  bi/ G .  Eld  for  Arthur 
lonson.  1612."  (4to.  containing  twenty-four  pages, 
title  included,  not  numbered.) 

This  curious  tract  consists  of  nineteen  nonnets,  ancj 

an 


16C008 


38 

an  address  "  to  the  sad  household  of  prince  Henrj.*'. 
It  is  inscribed 

<'  To  the  Honorable  Knight,  Sir  David  Mfruay.*  and 
To  the  other  Nobly  discended,  and  honorably  minded  fol- 
lowers of  the  late  deceased  Prince  Henry. 

On  whom  shall  I  these  funerall  notes  bestow, 
Newly  bedew'd  &  hallowed  with  my  teares  ? 
But  on  you  chiefly,  for  your  secret  woe 
The  heauiest  burthen  of  our  sorrow  beares  ; 
We  but  as  strangers  on  the  shore  lament 
A  common  ship. wracke,  but  you  that  did  owe 
Your  Keruice  to  that  golden  vessel  (rent) 
What  wonder  if  your  griefes  doe  ouer.flow  ? 
By  how  much  greater  your  fair  fortunes  were, 
The  losse  is  so  much  greater  you  sustaine, 
We  meaner  men  may  our  mischances  beare 
With  lesser  trouble,  and  more  equall  paine. 

Yet  spare  your  teares  though  you  haue  cause  to  mone, 
It  is  not  meeteyou  should  lament  alone. 

Few  publications  of  this  nature  possess  greater  claim  to 
notice  than  that  now  before  me.  Jt  much  resembles  the 
Period  of  Movrning  by  Peach  am,  written  at  the  same 
time  and  on  the  same  occasion,  which  is  reprinted  by 
Waldron  in  liis  Literart/  Museum^  8vo.  1792.  But  the 
following  extracts  will  enable  the  reader  to  judge  for 
himself  of  the  merits  or  defects  of  the  poet. 

Sonnet  V. 

And  you  foule  wrinckled  destinies  that  do  sit 
In  darknes  to  depriue  the  world  of  light, 
Making  the  thread,  and  sodaine  mangling  it. 
Through  peeuish  rancour,  and  peruerse  despight. 

Your  hand  appeares  in  this  our  Tragedie, 
The  wound  we  feele,  by  your  sharp  edge  was  made, 
That  edge  which  cut  the  golden  twist  so  nigh 
Of  our  Prince  Henry,  who  in  liuelcs  shade 

As  yet  amased  of  his  sodaine  change 
Lookes  for  those  louing  friends  whom  he  lor'd  best ; 
But  when  he  seeshimselfe  so  farre  estrang'd, 
He  yields  his  spirit  to  eternall  rest. 

•  He  was  master  of  the  prince's  wardrobe.  Pcarham  addresses 
one  of  bis  emblems  lo  hiin.  See  Minerva  Britannira,  4lo.  iCi'2, 
p.  56.  which  work  was  dedicated  to  Prince  lit urv. 

Hard. 


S9 

Ilard.liearted  fates,  that  him  of  life  depriue, 
That  leaues  so  man/  moiirnfull  friends  aliue. 

VI. 

Sad  Melancholy  lead  me  to  the  caue 
Where  thy  black  Incense  and  dim  Tapers  buroe, 
Let  me  some  darke  and  hollow  corner  haue, 
Where  desolate  my  sorrowes  I  may  mourne  : 

And  let  thy  heauiest  Musick  softly  sound 
Vnto  the  doleful  songs  that  I  recite  ; 
And  euer  let  this  direfull  voice  rebound 
Throujih  the  vast  den :  Ah  dead  is  Briton's  light; 

Then  if  thy  heart  be  with  compassion  mou'd 
Of  my  laments,  come  rest  thy  self  by  me, 
And  mourne  with  me,  for  thou  hast  euer  lov'd 
To  beare  a  part  in  euory  Tragedie  : 

And  if  to  plaints  thou  wilt  inure  thy  mind, 

Thou  neuer  couldst  a  fitter  season  finde. 

X. 

You  sacred  Forresfs,  and  you  spotles  streames 
'J'hat  part  the  flowry  raeadowes  with  your  fall, 
You  water-Nymphes  and  Ladies  of  the  Tea'ms, 
And  thou  dread  Thamesis,  mother  of  them  all  ; 

With  brinish  teares  weep  in  your  sandy  ford  ; 
Weep  fields,  and  groues,  and  you  poore  Driads  weep, 
Thesodaiue  Funerall  of  our  Brittish  Lord, 
Whose  eyes  are  now  clos'd  vp  in  iron  sleepe. 

Both  trees,  and  streams,  lament  his  loss  that  lov'd 
Your  siJuer  waters,  and  wide  spreading  shades, 
But  now  is  farre  awty,  froia  youremooT'd, 
Vnto  a  Paradice  that  neuer  fades, 
There  in  eternall  happinesse  to  remaine, 
But  we  in  sorrow  here,  and  ceaseless  paine. 

XVIII. 

Once  more  Melpomene  grant  thy  willing  aide, 
I  sing  not  now  of  franticke  Progne's  change, 
JSor  of  the  boy  transform'd  into  a  maide  : 
JJor  how  the  girle  did  like  a  Ilejfar  range. 

Farre  sadder  notes,  ray  sullen  Musicke  yeelds, 
Farre  other  dreames  afflict  my  sad  repose 
Of  broken  Tombes,  and  of  th'  Elision  fields, 

And  of  the  gcathfull  flculds,  that  Dis  encloie. 


But 


40 

But  let  such  vaine  thoua:ht8  vanish  with  my  sleepe, 
And  of  Prinre  Henrie^s  dpath  now  let  vs  sing, 
And  teach  the  Rockes  on  Monas  shores  to  weepe, 
And  frijht  the  sea  with  their  vast  bellowing  : 
That  Neptune  hearing  of  their  pitteous  cry, 
May  thinke  that  all  the  Westerne  world  did  die. . 

The  address  io  the  household  contains  six  stanzas  of 
six  lines  each,  with  which  this  valuable  tract  concludes. 

B.  L.O. 


^  The  Golden  Boohe  of  the  Leaden  Goddes.  Wherein 
is  described  the  vayne  imaginations  of  Ileathe  Pa- 
gans, and  counterfttict  Christians :  zci/th  a  description 
of  their  seueral  Tables,  zchat  ech  of  their  pictures 
signified.  Bi/  Stephan  Balman,  Student  in  Diuinitie. 
Exod.  17.  Wryie  this  for  a  remembraunce  inaBooke 
and  committe  it  vnlo  the  eares  of  Josua  :  for  1  wyll 
roote  Amalech,  from  xnder  heauen,  so  that  hee  shalbe 
no  more  remembred.  Psal.  102.  This  shalbee  writ- 
ten for  those  that  come  after,  that  the  people  which 
ihalbe  borne,  male  prat/se  the  Lord.  Anno.  3577. 
[In  the  border  generally  used  by  Marshe,  see  1 1  or. 856. 
Colophon.]  Imprinted  at  Londonin  Fleetestreete,neare 
xnto  Sound  Dunstanes  Churche,  by  Thomas  Marshe, 
Anno  Tjomini.  1577.  Cum  Priuilegio  Regice  Maies- 
ialisk    qto.  40  leaves. 

In  a  dedication*'  to  the  Right  Honorable  Lord  Henry  Gary, 
I , of  the  most  noble  order  of  the  Garter  Knight,  Baron  of  iluns- 
don,"&c.  the  author  says,  *'  this  snial  treatise  of  the  putative  & 
imagined  Gods  of  the  Gentiles,  a  worke,  as  heretofore,  not 
gathered  in  oure  vulgar  tonge  :  So  I  trust  not  so  barrein  of 
fruictfull  documentes,  but  that  it  maye  seeme  both  to  sauour 
of  no  small  pajneson  myne  ownebehalfe.  and  alsotoyeldeout 
such  other  instructions,  as  maye  tende  to  sundrye  Godlye  pur- 
poses, and  to  the  betteringe  of  manye  others.  Wherein  we 
Ghristians,  now  lyuinge  in  the  clearc  light  of  the  Gospel,  may 
cuidently  see,  with  what  erroneous  triiperies,  antiquitie  hath 
bene  nozzeled :  in  what  foggy  mystes  they  iiaue  long  wan- 
dered :  in  what  fillhye  puddles  they  haue  been  myered: 
Tud«r  what  masking  vysors  of  clouted  religios^  they  haue 

bene 


41 

bene  bewytched :  wliat  traditions  they  haue  of  theyr  owne 
phantastical  braynes  to  themselues  forged  :  &  finallye  into 
what  Apostacye,  Atheisme,  Blasphemy,  Idolatrye,  and 
Heresie  they  haue  plunged  their  soules  &  affiaunced  their 
beleeues."  Subscribed  "  at  Newington  the  8  of  Septem- 
ber 1677,  your  Lordshlppes  most  humble  Seruaunt  in  the 
Lord,  Stephan  Batman,  Minister." 

**  To  the  wei  disposed  reader.  Mennes  natures  being  as 
sundry  and  variable  as  their  Phisnomies  &  faces  bee  diuers  & 
disagreeable,  small  maruayle  is  it,  though  in  iudgements  and 
verdicts,  they  square  fro  an  vnity,  and  iump  not  together  in 
one  reasonable  accord  of  opinio.  Knowing  therfore  gentle 
reader,  that  there  be  as  many  Tastes  as  there  be  mouthes,  I 
loke  not  to  be  accompted  so  perfect  a  cooke  as  is  able  to 
season  foode  and  condimentes  for  euery  palate  &  appetite  : 
but  referring  the  construction  of  my  good  wil  to  the  con- 
siderations of  such  hugry  stomakes  as  ca  and  wil  feede  ypon 
and  digest  such  holesome  (thoughe  homely)  cheare,  as  is 
sette  before  them  :  for  the  other  coyer  sorte,  I  professe  my 
selfe  more  redier  to  disclayrae  acquaintauace,  then  willing  to 
ioine  with  the  in  their  so  squemish  affectios,  A  proofe  of 
both  these  natured  persons,  I  am  sure  in  this  boke  to  find, 
hoping  as  touching  the  censure  thereof,  rather  to  fal  into  the 
hades  of  indill'erente  welwillers  and  by  theym  to  be  tryed, 
then  among  the  whych  (lyke  Aesopes  dogge)  lying  in  the 
Maunger  wil  neyther  doe  any  thyng  themselues,  nor  thynke 
•wel  of  others,  y'  sweat  for  their  comodyty.  Whiche  poore 
labour  if  I  perceiue  to  be  wel  accepted,  1  shalbe  animated 
shortly  to  aduenture  a  further,  paynfuUer  and  greater  enter- 
prise.    Farewell." 

*'  Thomas  Newtonus,  Cestreshyrius"  has  a  Latin  poem 

{jrefixed  and  "  E.  L.  in  the  Author's  commendation,'* 
las  live  English  stanzas  concluding 

*'  Ccrtes,  such  a  worke  in  english  neuer  was, 
As  this  (though  small)  which  doth  vayne  thinges  bewraye : 
What  then  needes  hee,  that  made  the  same  once  passe, 
On  Romish  Curres  what  they  do  barke  or  say : 
No  let  them  gnarle  and  do  the  worst  they  can, 
The  worke  is  good,  the  proofe  shal  prayse  the  man." 

This  volume  contains  first  the  description  of  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  heathen  deities  for  gods  of  the 
gentiles,  then  an  article  having  a  symbolical  figure  as 
set  between  the  heathens,  pagans,  and  false  christians, 

and 


m 

and  an  abstruse  calculation  on  the  subject  of  our  Saviour ; 
concluding  >vith  the  disputation  between  Adrianiis  and 
Epictctus:  An  account  of  the  gods  of  superstition  as 
belonging  io  the  Romish  church  follows,  among  which 
are  the  names  of  Arrius,  Donatus,  Henry  Nicolas,  &c. 
with  *'  certaine  vpstart  Anabaptisticall  Errours."  At 
the  end  "  the  names  of  the  authors  out  of  whom  this 
worke  is  gathered." 

"  lupiter  was  figured  sylting  in  throne  of  Estate,  with 
three  eyes,  and  no  eares,  al  naked  from  the  middle  vpward, 
the  rest  couered  :  his  vysage  resemling  a  womans  counte- 
naunce:  in  his  right  hand  he  held  lightening  and  in  the  left 
a  scepter,  standing  or  treading  vpon  gyauntes  :  before  him 
an  Eagle,  and  a  page  presentinge  a  cup  of  golde.  Ouer  his 
head  an  Angel  standing  on  a  globe  holding  a  laurell  gar. 
land. — Signification.  His  sitting  in  throne  betokeneth  his 
kingdome  to  be  durable,  his  three  eyes  signifieth  his  merueil- 
ous  wysdome,  by  which  hee  ruleth  Heauen,  Sea,  and  Earth  : 
Lis  want  of  eares  declare  him  to  be  indifferent  vnto  all,  not 
barkening  more  to  one,  then  to  another.  The  nakednesse  of 
his  vpper  partes  and  couerture  of  the  nether,  did  purport: 
him  to  he  iniiisible  vnto  me  M'hich  dwel  beelow,  but  visible  to 
the  heauenly  myndes  which  are  aboue.  Hys  womanly  looke 
and  full  breastes  intimate  al  thinges  to  be  made  &  nourished 
byiiim.  His  lightening  in  his  right  hand  dooth  signifie  his 
power,  which  lyke  to  lightening  pearceth  through  all :  his 
scepter  betokeneth  his  prouidence  by  which  as  by  a  scepter 
hee  disposeth  with  hys  creatures  as  he  thinketh  best.  Ilis 
treading  vpon  Giauntes  doth  declare  him  to  be  a  punisher  of 
the  which  are  at  defiaunce  with  him  :  by  the  Eagle  is  vnder- 
stode  the  soule  :  for  as  the  eagle  surmounteth  all  other  birdes 
and  is  swiftest,  so  much  doth  the  minde  surpasse  the  bodye  : 
by  the  page  the  simplicity  therof :  intimating  thereby  that  if 
the  soule  of  man  be  free  from  the  querkes  of  dissembling 
phanfasie,  and  as  the  eagle  soareth  aloft,  so  if  the  soule  of  man 
shalbe  occupied  with  heauenlye  cogitations  that  then  shalbee 
tnioyed  the  cup  of  golde,  whereby  is  signified  the  rewarde 
ofvertuein  the  presence  of  lupiter.  By  the  angell  is  sig. 
nified  the  swiftness  of  well  doing.  By  the  globe  vnder  his 
fcett  the  sn>all  regarde  of  worldlye  vanitie.  By  the  gar- 
lande,  the  end'esse  crowne  of  Immortalitie.  The  auncient 
Romans  eiitituled  him  Optimus  Maximus,  because  in  very 
dede  it  is  betttr,  and  more  acceptable,  to  profite  many,  the 
to  possesse  great  wealth  and  reuenue." 

**  Mercurie 


4a 

*'  Mercnrie  was  portraicted  with  winges  at  head  and  feete, 
wearing  an  hat  of  white  Sc  black  collourest  a  fawlchon  by 
his  side,  in  one  hand  a  sceptpr  &  in  the  other  a  pype;  on  the 
one  side  stode  a  cocke  and  a  ramnie,  and  close  by  his  side  a 
Fylcher  or  Cutpurse,  and  headlesse  Aro;us. — Signification, 
By  Merrwrie  Marchauntes  be  ment.  Mis  wynges  at  head 
&  feete  betoken  the  expedition  of  Marchates,  which  to  gett 
worldly  pelfe  post  through  all  corners  of  the  world  :  the 
whyte  &  blacke  coloured  hat,  signifieth  their  subtilty 
which  for  greedines  of  gaine  spare  not  to  face  white  for 
blacke,  &  blacke  for  white.  By  his  fawlchon  is  signified 
goodes  gotten  by  violence  when  subtilte  cannot  comprehend. 
His  mace  is  a  token  of  peace  but  the  knot  with  two  serpentes 
clasping  ech  other  aboute  the  sayde  scepter,  doth  intimate 
that  no  promise  must  be  broken.  His  pype  resembleth 
eloquence,  which  refresheth  the  mynd  as  harmony  doth  the 
eares.  The  cocke  is  sayde  to  be  the  best  obseruer  of  tymei 
and  seasons,  Marningmarchantesand  trauelers  to  forsake  no 
opportunity.  The  ramme  is  a  resemblauce  of  hys  office, 
because  the  poets  fayne  Mercuric  to  be  embassadoure  of  the 
Gods ;  all  are  obedient  to  hym  as  the  fiockes  of  shepe  are 
to  the  ramme  ;  the  figured  cut  purse  is  a  proof  that  Mer- 
curie  was  a  thiefe  :  and  headlesse  A rgus  is  a  witncsse  that  one 
plague  bewrayes  a  thousand  euilles.  The  poets  feigne  that 
Argus  tiie  Sonne  of  Aristor,  had  an  hundred  eyes,  of  al 
which  only  two  did  sleepe  by  course  so  that  he  was  not  to  be 
take  with  al  a  sleepe :  so  subtil  was  Argus  that  what  fraude 
soeuer  was  imagined,  hee  had  policie  to  defende  it.  Where- 
fore Irno  enuyinge  lo  (her  brother  and  husband  lupiter's 
harlot)  co/iimitred  the  keping  of  lo  to  Argus,  supposing  so 
to  be  most  assured  from  euermore  the  hauing  of  Jupiter's 
company.  lupiterto  acquite  luno's  practise  commaundeth 
Mercurye  to  take  him  to  his  pype  and  with  melodious 
soundes,  brought  Argus  eyes  a  sleepe  :  by  which  is  signified, 
what  is  hee  that  is  so  circumspect  or  aduised,  but  that  flattrye 
or  counterfeited  perswasion,  at  one  time  or  other,  may  de- 
ceiue :  which  worke  being  accomplished,  hee  stryketh  of 
Argus  head  and  setteth  lo,  the  transformed  cow,  at  liberty, 
luno  seeing  this  hap,  in  token  of  her  good  wyll  sets  Argu« 
•yes  into  the  Peacockes  tayle,  for  perpetual  remembraunce 
of  his  trusty  seruico.  A  manifest  showe  how  vayne  a  thinge 
rewarde  is  when  it  dyeth  wyth  the  partie,  from  the  posteritie. 
As  when  Carnalia  had  slayne  his  freend  Obliuios  enemye, 
thereby  receiuing  his  deathes  wouude  for  his  laboure  was 
rewarded  with  a  million  of  gold:  what  pleasure  had  hee 
1  thereof 


44 

thereof  becinge  preuented  from  the  Tse  by  death  and  not 
geeuen  to  his  familye. " 

*'  Genits  was  portralcted  like  a  younge  man  hauiiig  two 
"winges,  powring  wyne  out  of  a  bolie  vpon  au  alter. — Signi- 
fication. By  Genius  is  signified  the  towardnes  of  quicke 
wittes,  whexeby  sundry  sortes  of  people  are  found  to  exceede 
others  :  his  wings  betoken  the  swiftnesse  of  the  myn4e  as 
also  the  ready nesse  vpon  whom  he  hath  taken  charge  :  he  is 
sayed  to  bee  the  sonne  of  the  immortall  God,  because  hee  is 
ioyned  to  hnmaine  forme  called  reasonable :  His  powryng 
wyne  on  an  Alter  signifieth  the  abundance  of  ayry  moysture, 
which  doth  force  the  barren  earth,  to  yeld  foorth  ech 
creature  and  substaunce.  Plutarch  wryteth  that  lulius  Caisar 
had  a  mi^hty  Genius  alotted  vnto  him,  by  whose  helpe  he 
not  onlie  atcliieutd  great  Victories  in  his  lyfe,  but  was  also 
reuenged  on  his  murderers  after  his  death  :  for  his  Genius  so 
pursued  his  conspiratours  at  the  verye  heeles,  both  by  Sea 
and  Lande,  that  hee  suffered  not  one  to  remayne  on  lyue, 
■which  eyther  wasa  doerora  conspirour  of  the  fact.  So  like, 
"wise  after  the  fact  of  Robbers  and  wilful  murderers,  in  flyinge 
from  place  to  place,  they  haue  neuer  beene  at  quietj  til  death 
hath  finished  theyr  deserued  course." 

*'  Vvlcan  was  figured  lympinge,  wyth  a  blew  hat  on  his 
liead,  a  hammer  in  his  hand,  prepared  to  the  forge  lyke  a 
smyth. — Signification.  By  Vulcan  his  ment  fier,  &  by  his 
blew  hat  the  ayry  firmament,  by  his  limping  the  reuoluciona 
of  the  heauens,  which  whe  it  descendeth  to  vs  looseth  much 
of  his  former  strength.  By  Vulcan  is  signified  labor;  by 
his  hatte  of  blew,  true  dealing;  by  his  hammer  or  sledge  the 
continuall  toyle  of  husbandrye,  aswel  by  the  plough  in  earing 
the  tough  earth ;  as  by  the  hammer  in  forging  of  mettall, 
whose  force  must  bee  prepared  as  well  to  the  mayntenaunce 
of  the  Prince  as  the  enriching  of  the  subiect.  The  poetes 
faigne  that  lupiter  iarring  with  luno  his  wyfe,  fell  from 
wordes  to  blowes,  Vulcan  comming  to  the  reskue  of  luno, 
lupiter  waxed  so  angrye  that  hee  tooke  Vulcan  by  the  legges, 
and  flange  him  into  Lemnos,  whom  the  inhabitants  receiued 
as  sent  from  heauen  and  learned  of  him  to  prepare  iron  for 
necessary  tsos." 

*'  Flora  was  portraited  with  flowers  in  her  hand  of  beanes 
and  pease  ;  her  coat  in  as  many  colours  as  the  rayne  bowe. — 
Signification.  Flora  her  coloured  coate,  signifieth  the  diuers 
hue  y*  is  gcue  to  flowers;  her  beanes  &  pease  declare  a 
customeof  j'  Uomayns,  whoesteemeno  more  of  baudery  then 
of  SaperstUion  :   Which,  to  beare  rusticall  signes  in  hande, 

that 


45 

that  Flora  was  goddesse,  as  well  of  grayne  as  floweyrs,  erlay 
in  honour  of  y'  same,  they  dyd  sparcle  beanes  and  peasd 
amonge  the  comon  people.  Thys  Flora  was  a  famous  harlot, 
and  exceading  ryche,  constitutynge  at  her  death,  the  people 
of  Rome  to  bee  her  heyre  :  Shee  ordayned  for  euer  a  great 
surame  of  money  to  be  imploied  on  showes  and  playes.  The 
ordinaunce  of  a  gentle  deuill  deludinge  many  fooles  :  of  such 
force  is  wycked  Mamon,  that  hee  can  make  an  harlot  counted 
for  a  goddes.  Thus  the  pope  and  poet  can  make  both  harlot 
&  theefe  a  sayncte." 

At  the  head  of  the  sectarian  gods  is  placed  the  Pope 
for  his  heresy.  .  The  following  is  a  description  of  hi$ 
apparel. 

"  The  Pope's  apparel  domesticall,  is  a  p.urple  veluet 
cappe,  edged  with  Armine,  or  other  rych  Furres  ;  hys  ypper 
garment  a  red  or  purple  cloake  euen  w'  his  elbowes,  vnder 
y*  which  is  a  blacke  silke  vesture,  &  ynder  the  vesture  a 
whyte  lynnen  garment,  edged  w'  golde  &  hunge  with  pen- 
dentes  or  belles,  his  pontificall  adiourninge  is  atryple  crowne 
of  great  rychesse  set  with  stones  of  peerelesse  value ;  hit 
vpper  garment  is  a  cope,  more  worth  then  his  condicions: 
hee  is  caried  on  the  backes  of  foure  deacons,  after  the 
inaner  of  carying  whytepot  qneenes  in  Westerne  May- 
games."* 

Most  of  the  characters  given  under  this  division  maj 
be  found  more  at  large  in  a  View  of  all  Religions  by 
Ross  ;  and  who  but  "  hath  read  Alexander  Koss  over  ?'* 

J.  H. 


5  Divine  Poems  ^zcriitenbj/  Thomas  Washhournej  Bach* 
elour  in  Diviniti/.  Omne  tulil  punctum,  qui  miscuit 
utile  dulci. 

A  Verse  may  find  him,  who  a  Sermon  flyes, 
And  turn  delight  into  a  Sacrifice. 

Herbert's  Church  Porch. 

London^  Printed  for  Humphrei/  Moselei/,  at  the 
Princes  Arms  in  Ht.  PauVs  Church-yard.  1654.'* 
(12nio.  pp.  Ml,  exclusive  of  title,  preface,  commen- 
datory verses,  and  table  13  more.) 

Washbourne  and  his  productions  are  totally  unno- 

*  See  Donee's  Illustrations  cf  Shakspeare,  vol.  ii.  p.  457 

ticed 


4G 


ticed  by  Mr.  Ellis  in  his  specimens  of  our  early  poetry, 
whether  from  accident  or  design  remains  to  be  ascer- 
tained. It  is  possible  that  he  might  not  hare  met  with 
a  copy  of  the  volume,  which  is  of  considerable  rarity. 

The  only  account  of  Washbourne's  life  is  given  by 
Wood,  who  informs  us  that  he  was  born  at  VVychen- 
ford  in  Worcestershire,*  educated  at  Balliol  College, 
Oxford,  and  became  prebendary  of  Gloucester,  which 
situation  he  lost  during  the  civil  wars,  but  regained  at 
the  Restoration.  He  afterwards  took  the  degree  of 
doctor  in  divinity,  and  obtained  the  living  of  Dumble- 
ton  in  Gloucestershire.  He  died  May  6,  1687,  and  wa$ 
buried  in  Gloucester  cathedral. t 

In  the  preface  of  his  Poems,  the  author  tells  his 
reader  that  he  is  induced  to  publish  them  not  from 
"  any  itching  ambition  to  bee  in  print  (thogh  a  very 
catching  disease  of  the  time)  but  a  zealous  afl'ection  to 
be  doing  some  good" — and  "  though  they  may  not  relish 
well  with  the  captious  critick — ^yet  hee  believes  they 
will  not  displease  the  charitable  and  consciencious 
christian,"  etc.  A  poetical  address  to  the  Lady  Vere, 
one  "  to  his  ever  honoured  mother,  the  University  of 
Oxford,"  and  five  copies  of  commendatory  verses  pre- 
cede the  poems,  which  are,  ,with  few  exceptions,  upon 
various  passages  of  scripture,  and  will  not  "  relish"  suffi- 
ciently "  well"  to  warrant  any  copious  extracts. 

*'  Scyllaand  Carybdis. 

Two  gulfs  there  are  'twixt  which  'tis  hard  to  sail. 
And  not  be  shipwrackt :  here  prophanenesse  stands 
With  all  it's  brood  of  Ticfs  at  its  tayle, 
There  superstition  with  its  numerous  bands 

*  From  Nash's  Worcesterbhife  we  find  that  the  family  was 
both  ancient  and  respectable,  and  that,  at  one  time,  it  posses&ed 
a  considerable  property  in  the  county. 

t  Besides  "  Divine  Poems,"  Washbourne  published  two  ser- 
mons :  l."At  the  Funeral  of  Charles  Cocks,  Esq.  one  of  the 
Masters  in  Chancery,"  etc.  4to.  Lond.  for  Twyford,  1655. — '^. 
"  The  Repairer  of  the  Breach,"  etc-  at  the  Anniversary  of  the 
King's  Birth-day,  4to.l661. 


47 

Of  false  traditions ;  'twas  the  mala  intent 

Of  our  late  Pilots  between  both  to  steere  : 

But  fro  ward  fate,  to  seamen  incident, 

Made  them  mistake  their  wAy ;  for  whiles  thejr  fear 

To  sink  into  the  gulf  of  superstition, 
They  in  the  gulfe  of  profanation  fal, 
And  in  the  furious  heate  of  opposition 
'Gainst  Papists,  are  like  to  turn  Atheists  all. 

So  some  of  th'  ancient  Fathers  in  dispute 

Against  one  heresie,  did  too  much  bend 

Unto  another,  and  their  arrow  shoot 

Besides  the  mark,  thusmarre  what  they  would  mend. 

But  cannot  we  keep  in  the  middle  region 
Except  we  sink  too  low,  or  soar  too  high  ? 
Is  there  no  moderate  temper  in  religion, 
But  we  must  either  scorch'd  or  frozen  die? 

What  hath  the  Church  no  habitable  part, 
Betwixt  the  torrid  and  the  frozen  zone? 
Nor  hath  the  Churchman  learnt  as  yet  the  Art 
O'th'moralist,  that  vertue  leans  to  none 

Of  the  extremes,  but  in  the  center  lyes? 
So  doth  religious  Truth,  if  we  could  find 
It's  track  out ;  but  the  fault  is  in  our  eyes 
That  wil  not  see,  or  rather  in  our  mind 

That  wil  not  keep  the  road  and  safest  way 
Which  by  the  best  and  wisest  men  is  gone. 
But  rather  through  unbeaten  deserts  stray, 
Which  lead  to  nothing  but  confusion, 

O  God,  be  though  our  Pilot  once  again, 

Or  put  some  Pharos  up,  that  by  the  light 

Our  ship  the  Church  may  saile  safe  through  the  main, 

And  not  be  swallow 'd  by  these  gulfs  i'th'night." 

P.B. 


f  Old 


48 
5  Old  Madrigals  * 


O  say  deere  life  when  shall  these  twine  borne  berryes, 
So  lonely  ripe  by  my  rude  lips  be  tasted  : 

Shall  I  not  plucke,  sweet,  say  not  nay,  those  cherryes? 
O  lettjjem  not  with  sommer's  heate  be  blasted ! 

Nature  thou  know't  bestow'd  them  free  on  thee  j 
Then  be  thou  kinde  bestow  them  free  on  me. 


A  Satyre  once  did  runne  awaye  for  dread, 
At  sound  of  home  which  he  himselfe  did  blow ; 

Fearing  and  feared  thus  from  himselfe  he  fled, 
Deeming  strange  euill  in  that  he  did  not  know. 


> 


Loue  is  a  dainte  milde  and  sweet, 

A  gentle  power,  a  feeling  fine  and  tender ; 

So  that  those  harmes  and  payues  vnmeet. 
Which  I  doe  passe,  thou  dost  engender : 

Onely  to  him  his  torments  lonedeuiseth, 

That  scorns  his  lawes,  his  rites,  and  Loue  despiseth. 


Vpon  a  bank  with  roses  set  about, 

Where  pretty  turtles  ioyning  bill  to  bill ; 
And  gentle  springs  steale  softly  murmuring  out, 

Washing  the  foot  of  Pleasure's  sacred  hill : 
There  little  Loue  sore  wounded  lyes, 

His  bow  and  arrow  broken  ; 
Bedew'd  with  teares  from  Venus  eyes; 

Oh,  grieuous  to  bee  spoken! 

V. 

Retire  my  troubled  soul !  rest,  and  behold 
Thy  dayes  of  dolour ;  dangers  manifold  ! 
See  life  is  but  a  dreame  whose  best  contenting, 

Begun  with  hope  ;  pursued  with  doubt ;  ^ 

Enioy'd  with  feare  ends  in  repenting. 

•  J'he  First  set  of  Engliih  Madrigals,  to  3,  4,  5  and  6  parts  :  apt 
both  for  viols  and  voyces-  With  a  Mourning  Song  in  memory  of 
Frince  Heni-y.  Newly  composed  by  John  ff^ard.  Tenor.  Printed 
hy  Thomas  Sondham.  n.  d.  Dedicated  by  Ward , to  his  *' very  good 
raaister  Sir  Henry  Fanshawe  Knight."   Contains  38  songs.' 

Oj  deuine 


49 

Tl. 

O,  deuine  Loue  !  which  so  aloft  can  raise, 

And  lift  the  minde  out  of  this  earthly  mire  ; 
And  doth  iaspire  vs  with  so  glorious  praise, 

As  with  the  heauens  doth  equall  man's  desire  : 
Who  doth  not  help  to  deck  thy  holy  shrine, 

With  Venus'  myrtle  and  Apollo's  tree ; 
Who  will  not  say  that  thou  art  more  deuine, 

At  least  confesse  a  Deity e  in  thee  ? 

vii.  (part  1.) 
If  the  deep  sighs  of  an  afflicted  brest, 

Orewhelm'd  with  sorrow,  or  th'  erected  eyes 
Of  a  poore  wretch  with  miseries  opprest. 

For  whose  complaints  tears  neuer  could  suffice* 
Haue  not  the  power  your  Deities  to  moue. 
Who  shall  ere  looke  for  succour  from  abone  ? 
For  whom  too  long  I  taried  for  reliefe, 
Nawe  aske  but  death  that  onely  ends  my  griefe, 

viii.  (part  2.) 

There's  not  a  groue  that  wonders  not  my  woe, 
Nor  not  a  riuer  weeps  not  at  ray  tale  ; 

I  heare  the  Ecchos'(wandring  to  and  fro) 

Resounde  ray  griefe  through  euery  hill  and  dale ; 

The  birds  and  beasts  yet  in  their  simple  kind, 

Lament  for  me  :   no  pitty  else  I  finde  ; 

And  teares  1  find  floe  bring  no  other  good. 

But  as  new  showers  encrease  the  rising  flood. 

ix. 

I  haue  intreated  and  I  haue  complained, 

I  haue  disprais'd  and  praise  I  likewise  gaue  ; 
All  means  to  win  her  grace  I  tryed  haue, 

And  still  I  loue  and  still  I  am  disdained. 

Oh,  could  my  sighes  once  purchase  me  reliefe. 

Or  in  her  hart  my  teares  imprint  my  griefe ; 

But  cease  vaine  sighes,  cease  yee  fruitlesse  teareS;  . 

Teares  cannot  pierce  her  hart,  nor  sighes  her  eares, 

X. 

In  Memory  of  Prince  Henry, 

Weepe  forth  your  teares,  and  doe  lament;  He's  dead, 
Who  liuing  was  of  all  the  world  beloued  j 

Let  dolorous  lamenting  still  be  spread. 

Through  all  the  earth  that  all  harts  may  be  moued. 

VOL.  IV.  E  T 


o 


50 

To  sighe  and  plaine, 
Since  death  hath  slaine 
Prince  Henry. 
Oh  had  he  liu'd  our  hopes  had  still  encreased  ; 
But  he  is  dead  and  all  our  ioye's  deceased. 

J.  H. 


S  Ovr  Ladys  Retorne  to  England,  accompanied  with 
saint  Frances  and  the  good  lesus  of  Viana  in  Portu- 
gal, who,  comming  from  Brasell,  ariued  at  Clauelly 
in  Deuonshire,  the  third  of  June,  1592.  A  wonder 
of  the  Lorde  most  admirable,  to  note  how  many 
Spanish  saintes  are  enforced  to  come  one  pilgrimage 
for  Englande.  With  the  most  happie  fortune  of  that 
braue  gentill-man  William  Graf  tone  Cittizen  of  Lon- 
don, Captaine  and  oner  of  our  Ladies.  Writen  by 
H.  R.  [wood  cut,  a  shield  with  ship  in  full  sail,  &c.] 
Imprinted  at  London  by  A.  J.  and  are  to  be  sold  by 
William  Barlye  at  his  shop  in  gratious  streete  ouer 

•    against  Leaden  HalL     1592.     Four  leaves  4to. 

This  is  a  plain  narrative  addressed  in  a  letter  "  to 
the  worshipful  George  Lancaster  Esquire,  at  his  lodging 
in  London  ;"  giving  the  particulars  of  a  voyage  made 
by  the  vessel  called  **  our  Lady"  commanded  by 
*'  Maister  William  Grafton,"  a  citizen  of  London, 
whereby  was  captured  the  Spanish  vessels  "  Saint 
Francis"  and  "  Good  lesus"  two  of  the  "  many 
Spanish  saints"  forced,  as  the  title  has  it  "  to  come  on 
pilgrimage  to  England."    On  the  back  of  the  title  is 

"  H.  R.  in  Captaine  Grafton's  worthie  deserued  com- 
mendations. 

Braoe  noble  brutes,  ye  troiane  youthfull  wightes, 
Whose  laud  doth  reach  the  senloure  of  the  sunne  : 
Your  braue  attempts  by  lande,  or  seaes  your  fightes, 
Your  forwards  hearts,  imortali  fame  hath  wonne  ; 
The  world  reportes,  what  Londoners  hath  done, 
Freemen  I  meane,  and  prentices  of  worth. 
For  countrie  seruice  that  are  called  forth. 

Amongst  which,  of  name  let  Grafton  haue  his  due, 
Valiant  braue  man  whose  courage  none  could  quaile  : 
His  actes  atlarg  hecrc  after  shall  insue^ 

And 


51 

And  how  in  fight  he  often  did  preuaile : 
When  three  to  one  on  seaes  did  liira  assaiie, 
Seeking  by  force  his  mine  to  haue  wrought, 
Which  he  surpraised  and  them  to  England  brought. 

Read  Graftones  deedes  you  cauelires  of  worth, 
Sureuay  his  life  and  learne  by  him  to  Hue  : 
Whose  bountie,  kindnes,  and  valoure  shewed  forth, 
If  I  should  write  the  dastard  hart  my  greeue  : 
Casting  great  doubtes  how  they  might  me  beleeue,  * 
Yet  He  maintaine  this  captaines  actes  are  such, 
As  fewe  I  know  will  hassard  halfe  so  much." 
The  letter  describes  Captain  Grafton  as  having  pre- 
pared a  "  small  cariiell  called  our   Lady  fitte  for  the 
seas,  embarqued  himselfe  at  YouhoU  in  Ireland,  well 
furnished    with    braue    and    resoluit  men."      On  the 
seventh  day  they  fell  in  with  two  vessels  the  one  of  an 
hundred  and  twenty  tons,  having  forty  six  men  and  ten 
cast  pieces,  the   other  of  threescore  tons  and  sixteen 
men. 

*'  After  the  captaine  had  hailed  them,  and  bad  them  strike 
the  bearing  Spaniards  proud  mindes,  seeing  so  smale  a  Caruill 
as  his  owr  Ladie  of  the  Captaines,  scorned  to  yeeld,  but  made 
reddie  to  fight,  and  both  began  with  all  their  force  to  assaile 
hira  most  hotly,  the  gunner  from  the  great  ship  shot  the 
Caruilles  meane  missen  from  the  yardes,  shared  many  ropes 
and  did  them  great  mischeefe,  so  that  with  splycing  and 
repairing,  the  same  company  was  greatly  pusseled  ;  in  this 
time  the  Captaine  called  for  a  canne  of  wine  and  drinking 
hartely  to  them,  desired  them  all  as  they  loued  him  to  follow 
him  and  at  the  next  comming  vp  they  would  boord  her, 
where  to  they  were  al  very  willing  and  comming  vp  with  them 
againe  the  Gunner  with  his  brokenmouth  minion  racked 
him  fore  and  oft,  the  barre  entring  at  tiie  starre  went 
throughout.  Then  comming  vp  in  her  quarter  the  Captaine 
leapt  in  at  their  cheane  holes,  and  one  other  with  him  who 
was  hardly  [set]  with  pikes  and  other  hand  weapons  ;  jet 
kept  hee  is  place  when  the  shippes  falling  off  he  had  no 
remedy  but  abide  that  chance  God  had  allotted  them.  The 
company  aboord  loth  to  let  their  Captaine  rest  in  so  great 
danger  came  aboord  againe,  when  valiantly  they  entered, 
his  boy  being  with  the  first  aboord  had  taken  downe  their 
flag,  to  the  great  greefe  of  the  enemie,  who  now  repenting 
their  hardinesse  craued  mercie.  The  other  smale  seeing  all 
the  men  of  warre  almost  aboord  their  prise,  layed  the  Carueil 

X  2  aboord 


52 

aboord  but  to  their  great  cost,  for  there  being  courageous 
men,  tntertd  bat  six  of  them  with  their  swordes  and 
dagers,  swordes  and  targates,  and  such  as  they  had,  and 
stowi.d  the  fiteene  Portingauls,  so  that  they  were  possessed 
of  both  tiooner  than  they  exspected.  The  Captaine  seeing 
the  other  was  taken  gaue  God  thankes  for  his  goodnes." 

A  prior  voyage  appears  to  have  been  equally  for- 
tunate, Avhen  the  Captain's 

"  Owne  ship  was  (he  grace  of  God  who  took  our  Lady 
and  saint  Anthonie,  Our  Lady  she  made  a  m^n  of  warre 
who  ha  h  taken  now  those  two  prises  ioaden  with  suger,  the 
one  called  saint  Fraunces,  the  other  the  good  I<;shs  both  of 
Viana,  a  wonder  of  the  Lorde  to  appoint  this  Spanish  saints 
to  make  rich  his  english  sailours,  as  by  this  valiant  Captaine 
is  shewed,  for  how  many  Captaines  hath  had  such  blessinges 
as  this  gentleman,  or  who  more  fortunate  whom  lesus,  oor 
Lady,  S.  Fraunces  &  S.  Anthony  hath  brought  their  bles- 
singes there.  News  ther  is  none  worthy  to  write,  but 
for  your  hazckes^  I  hope  by  Saint  lames  tide  to  bring  you, 
till  then  with  my  heartiest  commendationcs,  I  leaue  you  to 
Ws  protection  whom  1  daily  pray  to  blesse  vs  all.  From 
Barnstable  in  the  north  of  Deuonshlre  this  6  of  July,  1592. 
Yours  euer  redie  to  vse.  H.  R." 

J.  H. 

f  An  Arithrneticall  Militare  Treatise^  named  Siraiiolicos 
compendiously  teaching  the  Science  of  Numbers,  as 
Tcellin  Fractions  as  Integers,  Sf  so  much  of  the  HulesiS' 
JEquations  Algebraicall  8^  Arte  of  Numbers  Cossicall, 
as  are  requisite  for  the  Profession  of  a  Soldiour. 
Together  withihe  Moderne  Militare  DisciplinefOJicesy 
Lawes  and  Dueties  in  euery  well  goucrned  Campe  Sf 
Armie  to  be  observed.  Long  since  attempted  hij 
Leonard  Digges  Gentleman;  Augmented,  Di' 
gested  and  latel// finished  b7/ TirojiAS  Digges,  his 
Sonne.  Whereto  he  hath  also  adioi/ned  certaine 
Questions  of  great  Ordinaunce,  resolued  in  his  other 
Treatize  of  Pyrotechny  &;  great  Artillerie,  hereafter 
to  be  pubfished. 

Vixet  post  funera  Vertus. 
At  London    Printed  by  Henry  Bynneman   Atmo 
Domini  1579.    pp.  192.     4to. 

f  A  Geometrical  Practical  Treatise  named  Pantometria, 

diuided 


53  • 

diuided  into  three  Bookes,  Longhnetra,  Planhnetra, 
Sf  Stereonietria,  Containing  rules  manifolde  for  men- 
suration of  all  Lines,  Superficies  and  Solides :  with 
sundrie  strange  conclusions  both  hij  instrument  Sf 
without,  Sf  also  hy  glasses  to  set  forth  the  true  descrip- 
tion or  exact  Platte  of  an  zchole  Region.  First  pub- 
lished hi/  Thomas  Digges  Esq.  Sf  dedicated  to 
the  graue,  zcise,  atid  honourable  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon, 
Knight,  Lord  Keeper  of  the  Great  Scale  of  England. 
With  a  Mathematicall  Discourse  of  the  fue  regular 
Platonicall  Solides,  and  their  Metamorphoses  into 
other  fiue  compound  rare  Geometrical!  Bodies,  con^ 
teyning  an  hundred  tiewe  Theoremes  at  least  of  his 
owne  Jnuention,  neuer  mentioned  before  by  anye 
other  Geometrician,  Lately  reviewed  by  the  Author 
hiniselfe,  and  augmented  with  sjindrie  Additions, 
JJiffinitions,  Problems,  and  rare  Theoremes,  to  open 
the  passage,  and  prepare  a  way  to  the  understanding 
pf  his  Treatise  of  Martiall  Pyrotechnie  Sf  great 
Artillerie,  hereafter  to  be  published.  At  London, 
Printed  by  Abell  Jeffes,  Anno,  1591.    Folio,  pp,  196. 

Leonard  Digges,  of  Wootton  Court,  between  Can- 
terbury and  Dover,  (which  scat  he  purchased  in  tlie 
last  year  pf  K.  Hen.  VI II.)  was  a  younger  son  of  James 
Digges,  Esq.  of  Digges's  Court  in  the  adjoining  parish 
ofBarhain.  lie  was  educated  at  Oxford,  and  became 
eminent  for  iiis  skill  in  mathematics,  architecture,  and 
land-surveying.     His  first  publication  was         » 

Tectonicon,  on  the  measurement  of  land,  &c.  1556, 
4to.  augmented  by  his  son  Thomas  1592,  4to.  ;  pruited 
again  1647,  4to.* 

Another  was  Prognostication  everlasting,  of  right 
good  Effect  :  or  choice  rules  to  judge  the  weather  by 
the  Sun,  Moon,  Stars,  Sfc.  London,  1555,1556,  1564, 
4to.  and  augmented  by  his  son  Thomas,  with  divers 
general  Tables,  and  many  compendious  rules.  Lond. 
1592,  4to4 

He  died  not  later  than  1573. 

Thomas  Digges,  his  son,  who  was  at  least  equally 
eminent  in  the  same  sciences,  sold  his  paternal  scat  at 

»  Wood's  Ath.  I.  180.  Biogr.  Brit.  2d,  edit,  v.  538. 
i  Ibid. 

1  Wootton 


'54 

Woolton  (probably  immediately  after  his  father's  deatli.) 
His  moiher  was  Bridget,  sister  to  Sir  James,  and  Sir 
Thomas  VVilford,  two  distinguished  Kentish  knights. 
Thomas  was  educated  at  Oxford,  like  his  father,  having 
by  his  father's  instructions  spent  his  younger  years, 
even  Irom  his  cradle,  in  the  liberal  sciences.  These 
qualifications  afterwards  obtained  him  the  situation  of 
Muster  Master  General  of  all  Queen  Elizabeth's  forces  in 
the  Low  Countries  under  his  patron  Robert  Dudley  Earl 
of  Leicester. 

He  was  author  of  many  learned  works.  But  law- 
suits, which  probably  descended  upon  him  with  his 
patrimony,  and  were  productive  of  pecuniary  embarass- 
raents,  broke  in  upon  his  studies,  and  embittered  his 
days,  as  he  himself  complains  with  much  feeling  in  a 
passage,  which  I  shall  presently  cite. 

He  died  Aug.  24,  1595,  and  was  buried  in  the  chan- 
cel of  the  Church  of  Aldermanbury  London.  He 
married  Agnes,  daughter  of  Sir  William  St.  Leger, 
Knt.  by  Ursula,  daughter  of  George  Neville,  Lord 
Abergavenny.  II is  monument  was  destroyed  by  the 
fire  of  London  1666;    but  the  inscription  is  as  follows  : 

*'  Thomas  Digges,  Esq.  sonn^  &  heyre  of  Leonard  Digges, 
**  of  Wotton,  in  the  county  of  Kent,  Esq.  &  of  Bridget  his 
**  wife  daughter  of  Thomas  Wilford  Esq.  which  Thomas 
*'  deceased  the  24th  day  of  Aug.  Anno  Dora.  1593. 

*'  Agnes  wife  to  Thomas  Digges  Esq.  daughter  to  Sir 
*'  William  Seintleger,  Knight,  &  of  Ursula  his  wife,  daugh. 
**  ter  of  George  Nevil,  Lord  of  Aber;;aTcni)y,  by  whom 
*'  the  said  Thomas  had  issue  Dudley  his  sonne  ife  heyre, 
*'  Leonard  his  second  son;  Margaret  &  Ursula  now  living; 
**  beside  William  &  Mary,  who  died  young. 

"  Deo  Opt.  Max.  tt  Memoriae. 
*'  Ilic  resurrectionem  mortuorum  expectat  Thomas  Digsxus 
'•  Armlger,  ex  antiquS-  Digsaeoruoi  in  Cantia  familiil 
*'  oriundus.  Vir  fide  et  pietate  in  Deum  singulari,  rei 
*'  miiitaris  admodum  peritus,  optimarum  literarum  studiosus 
*'  et  scientiis  mathematicis  ad  miracnium  (ut  ex  libris  editis 
**  constat)  eruditissimus  :  Quem  Deiis  in  ccelestem  patriam, 
"Anno  Salutis  1595,  evocavit.  Charissimo  Merito  uxor 
<'  maestissima  posuit. 

"  Here  lieth  in- assured  hope  to  rise  in  Christ,  Thomas 
"  D'g&c*  Esq.  sometime  Muster  Master  of  the  English 
''  Army  in  the  Low  Countries  :  A   man  zealously  affected 

tq 


55 

*'  to  true  religion,  wise,  discreete,  courteous,  faithfull  to  his 
*'  friends,  &  of  rare  knowledge  in  Geometry,  Astrologie,  & 
**  other  Mathematical  Sciences,  who  finished  this  transitory 
'*  life  with  an  happy  end  in  Anno  1395, 

*'  That  the  dead  might  live,  Christ  died."* 

Of  the  first  of  the  works  here  registered  the  following 
is  the  Epistle  Dedicatory  to  Robert  Dudley,  l:]iirl  of 
Leicester. 

"  Right  Honourable,  finding  myselfe  to  your  Lordship 
deepely  bounde,  as  well  for  my  preferment  to  hir  Maiesties 
seruice,  as  for  sundrie  other  fauoures  contiouallye  powred  • 
on  me,  I  haue  carefiillye  bethought  myselfe,  whyche  way  I 
might  render  some  testimonye  of  a  gratefull  minde.  And 
hauing  spent  many  of  my  yeares  in  reducing  the  Sciences 
Mathematical!,  from  Demonstrative  Contemplations,  to  Ex- 
perimentail  Actions,  for  the  seruice  of  my  Prince  &  Coun. 
trey :  (beeyng  thereto  greately  ayded  by  the  Practises, 
Observations,  Monuments  &  conferences  of  my  father, 
with  the  rarest  Souldyoures  of  hys  time)  haue  among  sundrie 
other  discourses  of  Nauigation,  of  Fortification,  of  Pyro- 
technic &  great  ArtiUerie,  long  sithence  comenced,  latelie 
finished  this  Arithmeticairi'reatise,  wholy  applyed  to  Militare 
affayres.  And  finding  not  onely  by  the  whole  course  of 
Histories  of  all  times  &  countreys,  howe  Kingdomes  haue 
flourished  in  all  felicitie,  whereas  this  Arte  hath  bene  em- 
braced, &  duelie  practised,  &  cotrarywise,  how  most  happie 
Empires  after  warlike  discipline  haue  bin  corrupted,  haue 
fallen  to  mine  &  miserable  seruitude  :  but  also  by  experi- 
ence even  in  these  dayes  scene  what  extreame  disorders 
growe  in  those  Armyes,  where  militare  lawes  &  ordinances 
haue  bene  regulated:  haue  thought  this  matter  not  unfit  to 
be  remerabred  in  these  our  flourishing  &  quiet  times,  that  as 
the  Pallace  of  this  most  happie  kiogdome  (ruled  by  a  Sove- 
regne  Princesse,  whose  wisedome  &  rare  vertues  all  Europe 
haue  in  admiration)  is  inwardlye  most  curiouslie  garnished 
with  the  perft'ction  of  Sciences  Humane  and  Diuine,  with 
sundrie  artcs,  with  riches,  rest,  wealth  <&  pleasure  comparablo 
with,  or  surpassing  anye  other  of  Christendome:  so  wishing 
also  it  maye  not  wante  (when  need  shall  be)  the  roofe  & 
outward  couering,  to  defend  &  garde  it  from  the  winde  & 
rayne,  &  furious  stormes  of  forraigne  tempestes.     And  as  the 

*  Biogr.  rsrit  v.  239.    Strype*s  Stew's  Survey,  Edit.  1720.  vol. 
i.  p.  71,  72. 

fame 


56 

fame  of  an  honourable  enterprize,  vnder  your  Lordship's 
conduite  generally  expected,  did  first  moue  me  to  employ 
my  Mathematical!  Muses  upon  this  Militare  Argument,  so 
sithence  hauing  in  some  points  altered  &  augmented  the 
first  originail,  to  your  Lordship  then  presented,  &  now  fully 
digested  &  finished  the  same,  (wel  knowing  the  methode 
suche  as  hytherto  in  no  language  hath  bin  published  ;  &  your 
Lordship  for  wisedome,  learning,  &  experience,  (hauing 
long  sithence  borne  honourable  office  in  the  field)  fuUie  able 
of  yourselfe  to  discerne  the  veritie  &  valour  of  this  worke.) 
In  discharge  of  some  part  of  my  dutie,  I  presume  to  present 
&  publish  the  same  Tnder  the  protection  of  your  Name.  As 
a  Patrone,  I  aduow  myselfe  to  honour,  by  all  other  due 
dutiful  1  meanes  I  can.  And  crauing  fauorable  acceptation 
of  this  my  homelie  dutifull  present,  humbly  leaue  your  Lord- 
ship to  the  direction  of  the  Almightie,  who  graunt  you  a  long 
prosperous  life,  garnished  with  cotinuall  encrease  of  honour- 
able actions,  to  the  amplyfying  of  his  glorie  &  true  Religion, 
the  faithfull  seruice  of  hir  most  excellent  maiestie,  &  comfort 
of  vs  that  loue  &  honour  you. 

Your  Honours  duetifully  at  command, 

TUOMAS    DiGGES." 

The  author  thus  commences  the  Preface  to  the  Reader, 

*'  Hauing  spent  my  youngest  yeres  euen  from  my  cradle  in 
the  Sciences  Liberal,  &  especially  in  searching  the  most 
difficult  &  curious  Demonstrations  Mathematicall,  by  proofe 
at  last  I  found  the  saying  of  that  wise  Tarentine  &c  eloquent 
Romane  most  true :  That  if  it  wer  possible  for  amortall  man 
by  power  Diuine  to  bee  transferred  into  some  solitarie  garden 
of  incomparable  pleasure,  &  there  all  things  that  could  be 
wished  as  it  were  by  the  hands  of  Angels  to  be  ministered 
unto  him  enioying  perfect  health,  strength,  &  all  other  good 
giftes  of  nature,  that  were  requisite  to  a  ful  perfection  of 
delite  both  in  minde  &  body,  saue  only  that  it  should  not  be 
lawfull  for  him  to  haue  Societie  or  coference  with  any  man 
to  communicate  the  state  of  his  felicitie  :  That  notwithstand. 
ing  all  these  delites,  his  life  should  seenie  tedious,  &  all  those 
pleasures  loathsome. 

"  Even  so,  albeit  the  straunge  varietie  of  Inuentions  in 
all  the  more  subtile  part  of  those  Mathematical  Deuioustrations 
did  breede  in  me  for  a  time  a  singular  delec-tation,  yet  finding 
none  or  very  few,  with  whome  to  con f^rro  ^  communicate 
those  my  delites,  (&  remembring  also  that  graue  sentence  of 
diuine   Plato,  that  we  are  not  borne  for  ourselueSj  but  also 

for 


57 

for  our  Parents,  Countrie,  &  Friends^  after  I  grew  to  yeares 
of  riper  iiidgement,  I  haue  wholy  bent  myst-lf  to  reduce  those 
Imaginative  Cotemplations  to  sensible  practicall  conclusions  : 
as  well  thereby  to  haue  some  companions  of  those  my  delec- 
table studies,  as  also  to  be  able,  when  Time  is,  to  employ  them 
to  the  seruice  of  my  Prince  &  countrie." 

He  then  goes  on  to  explain  the  particular  motives 
"vvhich  led  him  to  the  subjects  of  the  present  volume. 
And  concludes  thus : 

"  And  so  good  Reeder  I  committe  thee  to  the  Treatise 
itselfe,  wherein  if  thou  finde  any  thing  that  dothe  contente 
thee,  yeelde  due  thankes  to  the  Patrone  of  the  Worke, 
whose  honourable  disposition  in  fauouring  &  advauncing  all 
Vertue,  &  chieflie  the  studious  of  these  Liberall  Sciences, 
with  many  especiall  favoures  upon  myselfe,  hath  provoked  or 
rather  inforced  me  to  take  in  hande  this  presente  worke, 
finished  the  13  of  October  1579." 

Afterwards  this  notice  occurs  : 

*'  The  Bookes  alreadie  published  by  the 

Authoure  of  thys  Treatise. 

*'  A  general  Pronostication  long  sithence   published   by 

his  Father,  after   perused  by  hymselfe  &  thereto  adjoyned 

frame  of  the  Worlde,  according   to  Copernicus   Hipothesis, 

vpon  the  mobilitie  of  the  Earth. 

A  Geometricall  Treatise  called  Pantornefria,  begon  by 
hys  Father,  augtf»ented  &  finished  by  himselfe. 

A  Booke  in  Latin,  entituled  Ala:  sen  Scales  Mathematicce^ 
deliuering  sundrye  Demonstrations,  for  the  finding  of  the 
Paralaxis  of  any  Comet,  or  other  Celestiall  bodie,  wyth  the 
correction  of  the  Erroures  in  the  vse  of  Radius  Astrono- 
micus. 

This  present  Arithmetical!  Stratioticos  deuided  into  three 
Bookes." 

"  Bookes  begon  by  the  Author^ 
hereafter  to  be  piiblhhed.^' 

1.  A  Treatise  of  the  Arte  of  Nauigation,  bewraying  the 
grosse  Erroures  by  oure  Maysters,  &  Marriners  practised, 
deliuering  new  Rules,  &  Instruments  infallible,  &  practice- 
able,  some  also  accommodate  to  the  vulgare  capaciti* ,  with 
a  discourse  demonstratiue,  vpon  sundry  hypothf  seis  of  the 
Nauticall  Compasse  hys  Variation,  discouering  rules  for  the 
inuention  of  the  Longitude  at  all  tymeg  to  bee  practised,  ^ 
certayiie  as  by  the  Q  Eclipses. 

2.  A  briefe  Treatise  of  Architecture  Nauticall,  wherein  is 

deliuered 


58 

fleliuered  Rules  infallible  vpon  anye  one  forme  or  Modell  of 
excellenciefounde,  to  buylde  shyppes  for  all  burthens  of  lyke 
perfection  &propert!e  to  the  Patterne,  wyth  certayne  kyndes 
of  forcible  fyghtes  lawes  also  &  orders  in  sea  services  to  be 
obserued. 

3.  Commentaries  vpon  the  Reuolutions  of  Copernicus,  by 
euidente  demonstrations  grounded  vpon  late  observations,  to 
ratifye  &  ccnfirme  hys  Theorikes  &  Hypothesis,  wherein 
also  demonstratiuelie  shall  be  discussed,  whether  it  bee 
possible  vpon  the  vuli^are  Thesis  of  the  Earrthes  stabilitie,  to 
delyuer  any  true  Theorike  voyde  of  such  irregular  motions, 
Sc  other  absurdities,  as  repugne  the  Mhole  principles  of 
Philosophic  Naturall,&  apparantgroundes  of  common  Reason. 

4.  A  Booke  of  Dialling,  teaching  the  Arte  to  garnish  all 
the  Regular  &  transformed  bodyes,  in  his  Pantometria  men- 
tioned, with  houres  vulgare  &  Planetare,  Signes,  Azimuthes, 
Almicanters,  &c.  &  also  to  make  all  sortes  of  Dials,  Anularc, 
Cylinders,  Nauicles,  Hydriacles.  ' 

5.  A  Treatise  of  Great  Artillerie,  &  Pyrotechnie,  con- 
teyning  sundrye  "demonstrations,  geometrical),  &  instru- 
ments exactly  to  shoote  in  ail  sorts  of  peeces  at  all  degrees  of 
Randoms,  both  by  day  &  night,  with  other  new  Inuentions, 
&  seruiceable  secretes,  begon  by  his  father  after  long  expe- 
rience, augmented  &  heereafter  to  be  finished  by  himselfe. 

6".  A  Treatise  of  Fortification  of  Townes,  Fortes,  & 
Campes  by  a  Methode  cleane  repugnant  to  anye  hitherto 
practised,  couteyning  sundrie  sorts  of  more  forcible  formes, 
with  rules  of  great  facilitie  by  certayne  instruments  Geome- 
trical! to  stake  them  out,  &  readilie  to  set  downe  in  good 
order  an  whole  armie,  with  all  his  regiments,  Footemen, 
Horsemen,  Munition,  Carriadgis,  &c.  in  most  commodious 
&  strong  maiier  that  place  will  permitte. 

All  these  Sf  other  long  sit  hens,  the  Author  had  Jitiished 
Sf  published,  had  not  tht  Infcrnall  Furies,  enuying  such  his 
Faslicitie  <^-  happie  Sociitie  zcith  his  Mathematical  Muses, 
for  many  ycai  es  so  tormented  him  xzith  Lawe- Arables, 
that  he  hath  bene  enforced  to  discontinue  those  his  delec^ 
table  Studies, 

To  ittiplore  in  At/de,  Jupiter's  Pallace^ 

Philortuus,  PuiLAKETKS  and 

Philomatues 

Agiinste 

Aplestodolekos  Amouseos 

MiSOGENAlOS. 
DabIT   DeUS  lilS  QUOQUE  FiNEM," 

Dedication 


w 


59 

Dedication  of  the  Pantometria  to  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon, 
Lord  Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  of  England. 

*'  Calling  to  memorie  right  Honourable,  &  my  singular 
good  Lorde,  the  great  fauour  your  Lordship  bare  my  father 
in  his  lifetime,  &  the  conference  it  pleased  your  Honour  to 
vse  with  him  touching  the  Sciences  Mathematicall,  especially 
in  Geometricall  mensurations,  perusing  also  of  late  certaine 
volumes  thnt  he  in  his  youthe  time  long  sithens  had  compiled 
in  the  English  tongutj,  among  other  I  found  this  Geometricall 
Practise  which  my  father  (if  God  had  spared  hyra  life)  minded 
to  haue  presented  your  Honour  withall,  but  untimely  Death 
preuenting  his  determination,  I  thought  it  my  part  to 
accomplisti  the  same,  as  well  for  the  satisfaction  of  his  desire, 
as  also  to  shew  myseife  not  unmindefuilof  so  many  good  turnes 
as  your  honor  from  time  to  time  most  abundantly  hath  be- 
stowed  on  me  ;  having  therefore  supplied  such  partes  of  this 
Treatise  as  were  least  obscure  or  imperfect,  adioyning  there, 
vnto  a  Discourse  Geometricall  of  the  fiue  regulare  or  Platon. 
icall  bodies,  contayning  sundry  Theoricall  and  practicall 
propositions  of  the  raanifolde  proportions  arising  by  mutuall 
conference  of  these  Soliues,  inscription,  Circumscription  or 
Transformation,  &  now  at  the  last  fully  finished  the  same,  I 
am  bolde  to  exhibite  &  dedicate  it  to  your  Honor,  as  an  e- 
terna  1  memoriall  of  your  Lordship's  great  fauoure  towardes 
the  furtherance  of  learning,  &  a  publike  testimonie  of  my 
bounden  duetie:  hoping  your  Honor  will  rather  respect  the 
good  will  wherewith  it  is  prosecuted,  then  the  worthinesse  of 
the  present,  not  agreeable  I  conl'ebseto  the  excellent  knowe, 
ledge  wherewith  your  I^ordshippe  is  indued,  euen  in  the 
verye  Fountaines  tliemselues  whence  these  conclusions  ag 
springs  or  branches  are  deriued.  And  yet  such  as  I  nothing 
douVit  your  Honor  will  both  accept  in  good  parte,  &  also 
at  vacant  leysure  from  affaires  of  more  importance  delite 
yourselfe  withall,  the  rather  for  that  it  containeth  sundry 
such  new  inuented  Theorenies,  &  other  strange  conclusions, 
as  no  Geometers  have  hitherto  in  any  language  published. 
Whereby  your  Lordship  shall  not  only  incourage  me  heere- 
after  to  attempt  greater  matters,  but  also  as  it  were  with  a 
soveraigne  medicine  preucnt  the  poisoned  infection  of  enuious 
backbiting  toongs  :  for  as  the  veritie  of  these  experiments 
&  rules  hhall  neuer  be  impugned,  being  so  firmely  grounded, 
garded,  &  defended  with  Geometricall  demonstrations,  against 
whose  puissance  no  subtile  sophistrie  or  craftee  coloured 
arguments  can  preuaile,  so  thinke   I  there  is  none  so  im. 

pudently 


60 

pudeotly  qaalitious,  as  viil  or  dare  reproue  them  for  voine  or 
improfitable,  wheu  they  shall  perceiue  your  Lordship  (whose 
learned  iudgement  grayitie  &  wiscdoine  is  sufficiently 
knowne  to  the  world)  doth  allow  &  accepte  them  as  fragrant 
flowres,  select  &  gathered  out  of  the  pleasant  gardines 
Mathematical!  meete  to  delite  any  noble,  free,  or  well  dis- 
posed mhide,  &  profitable  frutes  seruing  most  commodiously 
to  sundry  necessary  vses  in  a  publike  weale,  &  such  as 
shall  thereby  receiue  pleasure  or  commoditie,  must  of  dutie 
yeeld  condigne  thankes  vnto  your  Lordship,  vnder  whose 
protection  &  patronage  I  have  not  feared  to  sende  abroade 
(as  a  wandring  pilgrime)  this  Orphane  &  fatherlesse  childe, 
the  which  as  1  perceiue  of  your  Honor  fauorably  accepted, 
so  raeane  I,  God  sparing  life,  to  imploy  no  small  portion  of 
this  my  shorte  &  transitorie  time  in  storing  our  native  tongue 
with  Mathematical!  Demonstrations,  &  some  such  other  rare 
experiments  and  practical  conclusions  as  no  forraine  realme 
hath  hitherto  beene,  1  suppose,  partaker  of.  In  the  meane 
tinie  I  leaue  longer  to  detaine  your  honour  with  my  rude 
&  homely  tale,  from  more  seriouse  &  waightie  atl'aires, 
committing  your  Lordship  to  the  tuition  of  the  Almightie, 
who  graunt  you  a  long  healthfull  honourable  life,  aGcom- 
panied  with  perfect  felicitie. 

Your  Honours  most  bounden 

Thomas  Digges." 

Sir  Dudley-  Disges,  eldest  son  of  this  Thomas, 
TFas  born  in  1583,  after  his  father  had  sold  the  seat  at 
Wootton.  He  was  educated  at  University  College, 
Oxford  ;  and  obtained  the  seat  of  Chilhani  Castle  in 
Kent,  situated  between  Canterbury  and  Ash  ford,  by 
marriage  with  Mary,  eldest  daughter  and  coheir  of  Sir 
Thomas  Kemp.  In  the  early  struggles  for  liberty  by 
the  Parliament  against  K.  Charles  I.  he  was  one  of  the 
most  patriotic  and  eminent  leaders.  He  succeeded  to 
the  Mastership  of  the  Rolls  (on  the  death  of  Sir  Julius 
Casar)  in  April  1636,  and  died  Mar.  18,  1638,  agqd  57. 
A.  Wood  says  that  "  his  understanding  few  could 
equal;  and  his  virtues  fewer  would."  He  adds,  that 
*'  the  wisest  men  reckoned  his  death  among  the  public 
calamities  of  those  times." 

He  had  a  younger  brother  Leonard  Digges,  born 
1588,  educated  also  at  Oxford,  who  was  esteemed  by 
those  who  knew  him  "  a  great  master  of  the  English 

language, 


6i 

language,  a  perfect  iindcrstander  of  tlie  French  and 
Spanish,  a  good  poet  and  no  mean  orator."*  His  com- 
mendatory vetses  to  Shakespeare  may  be  seen  before 
that  poet's  works.  He  died  7  April,  1635.  See  an 
account  of  his  translation  of  the  Spanish  Romance  of 
Gerardo  in  Cens.  Lit.  He  also  translated  the  Rape  of 
Proserpine  from  Claud ian,  Lond.  1617,   1628,  4to.t 

Dudley  Digges,  (a  younger  son  of  Sir  Dudley)  as  if 
learning  was  hereditary  in  this  family,  was  also  cele- 
brated '^  as  a  great  scholar,  and  general  artist  and  lin- 
guist" says  Wood.  He  was  born  about  1612,  educated 
at  Oxford,  and  died  in  the  garrison  there  Oct.  1,  1643, 
aged  31.  He  was  author  of  a  Treatise  on  the  Un- 
lawfulness of  Subjects  taking  up  arms  against  their 
Sovereign,  &c.  1643,  4to.  which  Wood  highly  com- 
mends. 

The  spot  from  whence  so  justly  distinguished  a  family 
arose,  gains  a  lively  interest  in  the  minds  of  all  who  are 
endued  with  fancy  and  sentiment.  The  writer  of  this 
article  feels  a  natural  desire  to  give  due  force  to  the 
colours  which  belong  to  the  spot  of  his  nativity.  In 
the  shades  of  VVootton  was  first  cherished  that  ardent 
and  solid  learning,  which  burned  with  such  steady  light 
through  four  successive  generations  of  the  race  of 
Digges.  Did  darkness,  when  they  abandoned  the 
honoured  mansion,  succeed  to  this  splendor?  Another 
family,  of  less  distinction,  made  it,  a  few  years  after- 
wards, their  permanent  abode.  Yet  were  not  these 
totally  unconnected  with    honourable    alliance?,  and 

♦  Athene,  I.  c.  600. 

f  Thomas  Digges,  Esq.  of  Chilham  Castle,  eldest  son  of  Sir 
Dudley,  died  in  1G87,  having  had  by  Mary,  daughter  of  Sir 
Maurice  Abbot,  Knt.  six  sons.  Sir  Maurice  Digges  eldest  sou, 
was  knighted,  and  afterwards  created  a  baronet  Mar.  6,  1665,  but 
died  without  issue  before  his  father  in  1666.  * 

Leonard  Digges,  the  youngest,  but  only  surviving  son,  died  in 
17 17,  having  married  Elizabeth  daughter  of  Sir  John  Osborne  of 
Chicksand  in  Bedfordshire. 

John,  his  eldest  son,  succeeded  him  at  Chilham  Castle,  and  died 
without  issue  two  years  afterwards,  1719. 

Col.  Thomas  Digges  his  brother  and  heir,  (and  great  grandson 
to  Sir  Dudley)  sold  the  estate  at  Chilham  in  March,  1724,  to  the 
Colebrooke  family.  He  married  the  same  year  Elizabeth  West, 
daughter  of  John  Lord  Delaware,  and  left  two  feons.  His  younger 
son  was  West  Digges,  the  player. 

persons 


62 

persons  of  high  endowment.  The  family  of  Coppin*, 
for  the  three  or  four  <^enerations  that  they  possessed  the 
place,  from  the  accession  of  King  James  I.,  always  gave 
some  of  their  members  a  learned  education  at  Cambridge ; 
and  seem  to  have  taken  a  lively  concern  in  all  the 
literary,  religious,  and  political  disputes  of  their  time. 
By  a  matrimonial  alliance  with  the  family  of  the  cele- 
brated Dr.  Bargrave  Dean  of  Canterbury, t  there  was 
opened  to  them  an  acquaintance  with  men  as  eminent 
for  their  talents  and  station  in  the  world  as  for  their 
■worth.  It  cannot  reasonably  be  questioned  that  the 
walls  of  Wootton  were  sanctified  by  the  profuse  piety 
of  Dean  Boys,  and  enlivened  by  the  wit,  polish,  anec- 
dote, and  knowledge  of  the  world  of  Dean  Bargrave  ; 
men  whose  eminence  in  their  day  was  generally  ac- 
knowledged, and  whose  memories  are  not  yet  forgotten. 
At  this  time  the  Coppins  intermarried  with  an  house 
not  yet  equally  known ;  but  which  has  since  be- 
come still  more  conspicuous.  John  Coppin,  who  died 
in  1654,  married  Anne,  daughter  of  Thoivias  Gibbon* 
of  Westcliffe  near  Dover,  (whose  son  Matthew  Gibbon 
was  great  grandfather  of  the  Historian  of  the  Decline 
and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire).  But  even  then  the 
Gibbons  were  variously  and  honourably  allied.  Among 
these  was  Sir  John  FiNExt  a  native  of  the  same  parish 

of 

*  John  Coppin  purchased  this  estate  in  1607,  jointly  with  his 
mother  Mary,  (daughter  of  William  Denne,  Esq  of  Dennehill  in 
Kingston,  by  Agnes,  daughter  of  Nicholas  Tufton,  Esq.  of  Nor- 
diam  in  Sussex,  ancestor  to  the  Earl  of  Thanct)  which  Alary  was 
remarried  to  Thomas  Boys  of  Eythorne,  father,  by  a  former  wife, 
of  Dr.  John  Boys,  the  learned  Dean  of  Cantferbury.  John  Cop- 
pin died  in  1630;  his  mother  died  in  1C16,  aet.  17. 

t  The  Rev.  Thomas  Coppin  of  Wootton,  eldest  son  of  John,  of 
Wootton,  married  in  1636  Anne  daughter  of  Dean  Bargrave,  by 
Elizabeth  Dering,  whose  mother  was  Elizabeth  sister  of  Edward 
Lord  Wotton,  and  the  illustrious  and  well  known  Sir  Henry 
Wotton.  Mrs.  Coppin  remarried  Sir  Henry  Palmer  of  Howletts, 
Comptroller  of  the  Navy.  For  memoirs  of  Dean  Boys  and  Dean 
Bargrave,  see  Todd's  Lives  of  the  Deans  of  Canterhury. 

*  From  this  house,  by  his  mother  Elizabeth  Gibbon,  sprung  the 
great  Lord  Chancellor  Ilardwicke,  a  native  of  Dover,  born  1690. 

t  The  scandalous  page  of  Sir  Anthony  Weldon  states  that  on 
the  rise  of  Villiers,  **  the  King  (JamesJ  began  to  eat  abroad,  who 
formerly  used  to  eat  in  his  bedchamber,  or  if  by  chance  supped 
in  his  bedchamber,  after  supper  would  come  forth  to  see  pastimes 

and 


of  WestcliflTe,  a  wit,  a  poet,  and  a  man  of  learning,  who 
was  born  1571,  kniglitcd  1613,  and  succeeded  Sir  Lewis 
Lewknor,  as  Master  of  the  Ceremonies  in  162Q.   He  died 
1641,  having  married   Jane,  daughter  of  Henry  Lord 
Wentworth  of  Nettlcstcd,  by  a  daughter  of  Sir  Owen 
Hopton,  (whose  other  daughter  married   William,  4th 
Lord  Chandos,  and  was  mother  of  Grey,  Lord  Chandos, 
called  king  of  Cotswould).     The  abofle  which  was  fre- 
quented by  such  a  guest  as  Sir  John  Finet  was  probably 
not  insensible  to  the  ornaments  of  a  cultivated  mind.     A 
few  years  afterwards  the  sister  of  Mr.  Gibbon's  last  wife 
married  Sir  John  Maynard,  a  profound  lawyer,  whose 
character  may  be  read  in  the  pages  of  Lord  Clarendon. 
Andja  little  later    White  Kennet,  a  native  of  Dover, 
who  afterwards  rose  to  the  most  distinguished  rank  in 
the  literary  world,  and  to  the  see  of  Peterborough,  lived 
for  some  time  at  the  neighbourhig  seat  of  Beakesbourne  as 
tutor  to  a  near  alliance  of  this  house.     He  speaks  of  the 
Coppins  as  a  family  with  whom  he  was  familiar  ;  and 
under  that  roof,  which  the  idea  of  his  presence  renders 
more  venerable,  he  spent,    I  doubt   not,  many  of  his 
youthful  hours  in  cultivated  hospitality.*     But  how 
many  are  there  to  whom  the  past  is  like  the  departed 
wind,  unthoughtof ;  and  without  a  trace  or  memorial,  f 

They 

and  fooleries;  in  which  Sir  Edward  Zouch,  Sir  George  Goring, 
and  Sir  John  Finet,  were  the  chief  and  master  fools  ;  and  surety 
the  fooling  got  them  more  than  many  others  wisedom.  far  above 
them  in  desert.  Zouch  his  part  it  was  to  sing  bawdy  songs,  and 
tell  bawdy  tales — Finet  to  compose  those  soni:s :  then  were  a 
set  of  fidlers  brought  up  on  purpose  for  this  fooling:  and  Goring 
was  master  of  the  game  for  fooleries."  &c.  Secret  History  of  the 
Court  of  K.  James,  reprinted  at  Edinburgh  1811,2  vols.  Bvo, 

*  The  last  of  the  male  line  of  the  Coppins  died  1701.  VVootton 
then  came  by  devise  to  their  next  relations,  the  present  owners. 

t  The  naked  list  of  celebrated  names  here  introduced  stands 
thus: 

1.  Leonard  Digges,  ob. 1573. 

2.  Thomas  Digges,  ob.  Aug.  24,  1595. 

3.  Sir  Dudley  Digges,  ob.  Mar.  18,  1638. 

4.  Leonard  Digges,  ob.  April  7, 1635. 

5.  Dudley  Digges,  ob.  Oct.  1, 1643. 

C.  Dean  Boys,  ob.  1625. 

7.  Dean  Bargrave,  ob. 1642,  Jet.  56. 


8.  Sir  Hen.  Wotton,  ob. 1639. 

9.  Sir  John  Fine!,  ob. 1641. 


10. 


64 

Tliey  See  noihini^  but  that  which  forces  itself  in  a  ma- 
tertaKshnpe  upon  their  eyes;  and  they  hear  nothing 
but  what  imjvrcsses  itself  npon  their  external  senses! 
They  hear  not  th'^  voice  of  the  dead  ;  and  care  not  for 
the  ch  iraoters  oftliosf*  Mho  sleep  in  their  graves  ! 

Th«'se  reflections  are  b<it  iiitro'liictory  to  the  following 
Sonnets  which  the  subject  has  sugirested. 

FIVii    SONNETS    ADDHIvSSfD  TO    WOOTTON,    THE    SPOT  OF 
THE  AUTHOll's  NATIVITY. 

Sonnet  1. 

Ye  «rail1s,  fefniliar  to  mine  infant  plays, 

Ye  trees,  that  whisper'd  music  to  mine  ears, 

~   10.  Sir  John  Maynard,  ob.  Oct,  9, 1690,  aged  88. 

11.  White  Kennet,  Bishop 'of  Peterisorough,  ob.  Dec.  19,1728, 
aged  68. 

12.  Lord  Chancellor  Hardwicke,  ob.  Mar.  6, 1764,  aet.  74. 

13.  Edward  Gibbon, ob.  Jan.  Ii9-l,jet.  75. 

To  these  may  be  a<lded. 

14.  Lawrence  Hooke  of  Monk's  Horton,  near  Hythe,  a  great 
astronomer,  "  vtr  omni  Uterarum,  genere  initnictissimus"  who  died 
June  27,  1C62.     See  Wood's  Ath.  IL  297. 

15.  Dr.  William  Harvey,  the  illustrious  physician  who  discover- 
ed the  circulation  of  the  blood,  born  at  lolkstone,  April  2,  1578, 
and  died  June  3, 1657,  aet  80. 

16.  Sir  George  Ent,  M.  D.  President  of  the  College  of 
Physicians,  born  at  Sandwich  in  Kent,  Nov.  6,  1601,  the  learned 
friend,  follower,  and  coadjutor  of  Dr.  Harvey:  he  died  Oct.  13, 
1689,  8Et.  85. 

17.  Sir  John  Mennes,  a  wit  and  a  poet,  born  at  Sandwich,  May 
11, 1598,  died  Comptroller  of  the  Navy,  Feb.  18,  1670,  ffit.72. 

But  these  three  leist  were  rather  neighbours  than  in  any  way 
connected  at  the  time  with  the  owners  of  Wootton. 

As  to  the  exact  place  in  the  scale  of  fame,  due  to  each  of  these 
worthies,  the  sage,  the  moralist,  and  the  critic  may  diiTer.  But  it 
will  scarcely  be  denied  that  the  reputation  of  all  them  was 
founded  upon  merits  which  lifted  them  above  the  mass  of  mankind. 
As  to  mere  naked  pedigree,  a  pedigree  of  mere  titles  and  rent- 
rolls,  whatever  the  uneducated  herald  may  think,  it  is  nothing  .- 
nay  perhaps  it  is  a  disgrace :  But  they  who  have  gained  a  place 
by  their  virtues  and  exertions  in  the  literary  or  political  history  of 
their  country,  may  justly  reflect  some  portion  of  respectability  on 
the  places  where  they  resided,  and  the  posterity  of  those  with 
whom  they  were  connected.  The  native  sparks  of  an  ardent  mind 
are  blown  into  a  flame  by  an  early  familiarity  with  the  memories 
of  such  men;  and  the  flame  thus  kindled,  despising  all  vulgar 
distinctions,  aspires  to  honours  on  the  great  theatre  of  the  world, 
by  works  which  shall  ontlive  their  author,  and  render  his  name 
sacred  in  after-times. 

Which 


65 

Which  fiird  my  boyish  eyes  with  rapture's  tean  ! 
Ye  lawns,  where  Fancy's  many.colour'd  rays 

First  round  me  shot  a  visioiiary  blaze, 
f  s  it  the  whim  of  folly,  that  to  yi?ars 
Long  past  I  look  ;  and  glory,  if  appears 
Learning's  high  lamp  her  steady  light  to  raise 

E'en  then  o'er  your  abodes  ? — I  backward  turn, 
Two  centuries  and  more,  my  pensive  thought, 
And  see  the  same  fond  love  for  letters  burn; 

With  equal  thirst  for  fame  your  inmate  fraught ! 
Ah  happier  he,  whose  memory  still  survives  : 
Mine  with  the  grave's  oblivion  vainly  strives  ! 

15,  Apr.  1811. 
Sonnet  2. 

When  first  upon  my  childish  eyelids  broke 
The  morning  sun  o'er  that  rude  ilinted  tower 
Bosom'd  in  antique  trees  ;  when  first  awoke 
On  each  delighted  sense  the  vernal  flower, 

And  birds  began,  touch'd  by  young  spring,  to  pour 
Their  tremulous  harmony  ;  when  first  the  croak 
Of  that  old  rookery,  and  the  woodman's  stroke, 
Speeded  with  purest  joy  mine  infant  hour  ; 

Odear  departed  sprites  of  holy  men, 
By  intellectual  efforts  purified, 
Hover'd  ye  round  your  earthly  haunts  again, 

To  thirst  of  fame  like  yours  my  soul  to  guide  ? 
'Tis  thus  perchance  that,  from  life's  earliest  dawn, 
Forwards  by  fairy  lights  my  steps  are  drawn  ! 

Sonnet  3. 

Not  barbarous  is  the  soil,  where  first  my  feet 
Their  tottering  efforts  tried,  nor  quite  unknown 
To  the  lov'd  Muses  hill  or  vale  or  down. 
Dingle,  or  upland  lawn,  or  deep  retreat 

Of  woods,  where  first  upon  my  childhood  shone 
The  light  of  Heaven!  On  yonder  turfy  seat, 
When  great  Eliza's  sway  adorn'd  the  throne,    ' 
A  Sage  profound  was  daily  wont  to  greet 

JPair  Science  and  her  handmaids.  —Truths  abstruse 
Here  they  evolv'd  together,  pondering  well 
The  facts  of  many.colour'd  life,  whose  use, 

Courts,  State,  War,  Travel,  taught  them  how  to  spell. 
To  me,  dear  scenes,  ye  softer  themes  impart : 
To  learn  and  stug  the  dictates  of  the  heart  ! 
TOL.   IT,  f  SoNN 


66 

Sonnet  4. 

The  boorish  Squire,  the  rude  unlettei'd  train 
Impenetrable  to  each  impulse  fine 
Of  the  soul's  Ihovements,  it  has  not  been  thine 
Within  this  sacred  shelter  to  maintain  I 

Spirits  of  nobler  cast,  upon  whose  brain 

Nature,  more  generous,  spread  the  spark  divine, 
Wont  in  a  nation's  great  affairs  to  join, 
Quiet  within  thine  arms  did  not  disdain  ! 

Tho'  silent  now  at  times  thine  halls  have  been. 
And  thro'  thy  groves  the  common  sight  could  yiew 
No  Muse  her  footsteps  bending,  yet  are  seen, 

By  purer  eyes,  in  vests  of  varied  hue, 

Thro'  the  domain  the  Sisters  Nine  to  play, 
Circled  by  forms  of  every  orient  ray. 

Sonnet  S. 
The  breath  of  Heaven,  that  over  yonder  treei 

Passing,  from  thence  a  local  tincture  drew, 

Here  first  upon  my  new-born  body  blew ! 

O  was  there  magic  in  the  trembling  breeze, 
That  could  with  such  delicious  softness  seize 

Each  melting  sense ;  and  wake  to  music  new ; 

And  bear  upon  its  wings  a  shadowy  crew, 

That  only  Fancy's  gifted  vision  sees  ? 
Still  round  the  sacred  mansion  do  ye  dwell, 

Ye  lovely  Fairy  tribes,  or  are  ye  fled  ? 

O  once  again  renew  th'  entrancing  spell ; 
And  o'er  each  raptur'd  vein  your  pinions  spread  ! 

Bliss  above  earth  were  mine,  could  I  once  more 

Those  dear  delusions  of  the  soul  restore ! 

18  April,  1812, 

»"      '   '  '  ' 

H  A  Piece  of  Fugitive  Poetry  hy  Lord  Falkland. 

An  Epitaph  upon  the  excellent  Countesse  of  Huntingdon.* 

The  chief  perfection  of  both  sexes  joined, 
With  neither's  vice  nor  vanity  combin'd ; 

*  This  must  have  been  Elizabeth  wife  ofHenry  Hastings,  5th  Earl 
of  Hiintiitgdon.  She  died-Jan.  20, 16S3,  in  the  White  Friars,  Lon- 
don, and  was  buried  at  Ashby  de  la  Zouch.  She  was  youngest  of 
the  three  daughters  aiid  colieirs  of  Ferdinando  Stanley  Earl  of 
Derby,  by  Alice  daughter  of  Sir  John  Spencer  of  Althorpe,  Knt. — 
She  was  motherof  Ferdinando  6th  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  who  died 
F«b.  13,1655;  and  married  Elizabeth  daughter  and  heir  of  the  cele- 
brated puet  Sir  John  Davies,  Chief  Justice  of  the  King's  Bench. 

Of 


67 

Of  this  onr  age  the  wonder,  love,  and  care, 
Th'  example  of  the  following,  and  despair  ; 
Such  beauty,  that  from  all  hearts  love  must  flow  ; 
Such  majesty  that  none  durst  tell  her  so  ; 
A  wisdom  of  so  large  and  potent  sway, 
Rome's  senate  might  have  wish'd,  her  conclave  may. 
Which  did  to  earthly  thoughts  so  seldom  bow, 
Alive  she  scarce  was  less  in  heaven  than  now  ; 
So  void  of  the  least  pride,  to  her  alone 
These  radiant  excellencies  seem'd  unknown. 
Such  once  there  was  :  but  let  tliy  grief  appear, 
Reader,  there  is  not ;    Huntingdon  lies  here. 

By  him  who  says  what  he  saw 

Falkland. 


1  A  treatise  entitled  the  Path  xeaye  to  the  towre  of  per- 
fection.  Compiled  hy  Myles  Huggarde^  seruant  to 
the  Queries  most  excellent  maiestie:  Imprinted  at 
London  hy  Robert  Caly  within  the  precinct  of  the  late 
dissolued  hous^  of  the  graye  Freers,  nowe  converted 
to  an  Hospitall,  called  Christes  Hospitall:  1554. 
4to.  bl.  let.  extends  to  sig.  E. 

This  '*  famous  butt  of  the  Protestants  who  was  a  shoe- 
maker" according  to  Warton,  but  according  to  Strype 
a  hosier,  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  most  indefatiga- 
ble enemies  the  reformation  had  to  contend  with.  In 
the  well  known  lampoon  against  the  new  preachers  or 
gospellers  called  the  pore  help,  our  author  is  thus 
commended 

And  also  maister  hnggarde 

Doth  shewe  hyra  selfe  no  sluggarde 

Nor  yet  no  dronken  druggard 

But  sharpeth  vp  his  wyt 

And  frameth  it  so  fyt 

These  yonkers  for  to  hyt 

And  wyll  not  them  permyt 

In  errour  styll  to  syt 

As  it  maye  well  apeare 

By  his  clarkely  answere,  &c. 

Most  of  his  pamphlets  were  remarkable  rather  for  their 
virulence  than  intrinsic  merit,  and  "  were  made  impor- 
tant onlj  by  extorting  laboured  answers  from  several 

F  2  eminent 


«8 

eminent  divines."  The  present  poem,  if  so  it  is  to  be 
termed,  is  not  noticed  by  Warton ;  neither  was  this 
edition  known  to  Ames  or  Herbert,  as  the  only  one 
there  noticed  is  that  of  1556,  without  any  printer*s 
name.  Rilson  indeed  has  mentioned  it,  but  as  he  has 
only  given  tlie  title,  an  analysis  of  the  work  may  not  be 
unacceptable. 

The  introductory  lines  to  the  reader  are  written  with 
a  spirit  of  candour  and  humility,  as  to  make  us  regret 
that  the  author  should  have  been  so  tenacious  of  his 
errors. 

*'  Presumed  I  haue  good  gentyll  Reader, 
To  make  this  treatise  thus  vnlearnedly, 
Not  t4iat  I  woulde  sceme  to  be  a  leder. 
Of  other  men,  for  trulye  none  knowe  J, 
That  wourse  dolhe  lyue,  displeasing  god  hye, 
Than  my  selfe  dothe.  and  therfore  I  pray, 
All  tneu  to  iudge  well  in  that  I  will  saye. 
I  study  not  for  any  eloquence. 
For  if  1  dyd  my  labour  were  in  vaine, 
First  because  1  lacke  the  intelligence. 
The  which  therunto  doeth  truly  apertaioe  : 
Secondely  if  1  coulde,  litle  woulde  it  galne, 
The  simple  folke  to  who  I  haue  this  boke  wild, 
Whiche  in  eloquente  speache,  is  litle  skilde. 
However,  he  soon  assures  us  that  "  by  ignoraunce  he 
may  erre,"  but  "  not  to  his  knowledge." 

*'  For  in  maters  of  faieth  I  haue  assuraunce, 
From  which,  I  thanke  God,  1  yet  neuer  fell 
Nor  I  trust  neuer  shal,  thoughe  the  deuil  in  hell 
Would  from  this  same  faith  me  daily  perswaid, 
But  God  in  whom  I  trast,  is  alway  mine  aide." 

But  however  mistaken  he  was  in  matters  of  faith,  the 
moral  of  tliis  Poem  is  just  and  good. 

He  begins  by  informing  us  that  in  one  of  his  rambles 
by  a  '*  woodes  syde  ' 

*'  For  to  walke  abrude  my  custome  oft  hath  bene 
JBfcause  ill  song*-  of  byrdes  1  had  a  delite," 

whilst  meditating  u|)on  the  pjower  of  God,  and  ho\r 
all  the  works  of  creation  tend  to  his  glory,  and  how  these 
birds 

*'  In  (hfrir  kindj'  our  lord  thei  praise  night  &  day 

Ktping perfection  in  their  degree," 

He 


69 

lie  laiil  himself  down 

.    ■■  "A  while  to  rest  me 

Under  the  shadowe  of  a  Cyprrsse  tn-p. 
What  with  this  study  and  thp  bir  les  singinge, 
Into  a  sounde  slepe  these  two  dj  d  me  bryiig" — 

In  this  state  of  mind  he  dreamed  that  a  bird,  with 
which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  converse,  appeared 
to  him,  and  calling  to  his  recollection  his  late  medita- 
tions, chides  him  for  remaining  thus  inactive  in  his 
sphere. 

" Thou  diddist  while  eyre,  quod  she,  reuolae in  thy  minde, 

The  perfection  of  vs  in  our  estate. 

Now  if  thou  thy  selfe  accordinge  to  kinde 

Wilt  not  labour  that  way  to  emytale, 

Whirh  mought  bring  the  vnto  a  perfite  rate. 

What  great  shame  shal  we  byrdes  bring  y''  vnto 

If  thou  praise  ia  vs  that  thy  selfe  wyite  not  do." 

A  conversation  then  ensues  in  which  the  bird  en- 
deavours to  persuade  him  to  quit  his  former  habits  and 
walk  by  her  directions  in  the  more  perfect  path  ;  giving 
him  at  last  the  choice 

"  Whether  thou  wylt  in  slouth,  haue  short  ioy  here, 
Or  els  by  short  paine,  haue  longe  ioy  els  where." 
lie  is  however,  unwilling  to  change  his  situation,  con- 
vinced that 

'*  Their  is  no  ioy  to  this  to  here  these  byrdes  sing, 
And  to  lie  wher  so  many  swet  floures  doth  spring." 

She  then  assures  him  how  vain  is  this  pleasure,  how 
soon  there  may  be  an  end  thereof,  and  that  he  ought  to 
shun  "all  worldly  pleasures  &  vaine  vanites  :"— In  order 
to  do  this  effectually  he  is  to  "  call  for  grace,  which 
is  ever  at  liande  to  all  those  that  call  for  it." — After  a 
short  prayer  for  grace,  by  her  assistance  he  undertakes 
to  follow  his  guide  to  the  towre  of  Perfection.  But  he 
l)ad  not  proceeded  far  before  he  begins  to  repent  ;  and 
whilst  resting  himself 

"  Which  was  but  a  while, 
A  woman  anone  vpon  me  layde  holde  : 
Wilt  thou  all  ioy,  quod  she,  from  thee  excyie : 
Which  hearinge,  for  feare  it  made  my  hart  cold, 
Her  hey  re  lay  out  brayded  shininge  lyke  golde, 
Gorgiously  decked,  with  neckeand  brest  baire, 
Me  thought  I  neuer  sawe  woman  so  faire." 

AH 


-  70 

All  the  pleasures  in  her  gift  are  then  enumerated,  and 
he  is  just  yield infif  to  her  embraces  and  enticements, 
when  the  bird  checks  him,  and  bidding  him  again  call 
for  grace,  shews  how 

'*  All  her  inticementcs  be  detestable," 

and  that  all  those  who  have  yielded  to  this  temptation 
of  the  flesh,  have  suffered  the  most  grievous  punish- 
ments. The  fate  of  *'  Sodome  &  Goniore,  Loth,  the 
Israelites,  Sapso,  Dauid,&  Salomon,"  is  then  described. 
At  length,  by  help  of  grace  and  godly  instruction,  he 
is  induced  to  *'  avoid  the  false  seduction  of  the  flesh" 
and  proceed  on  his  journey. — He,  however,  soon  again 
complains  of  the  difficulty,  danger,  and  pain  of  the 
path  which  leadeth  to  life,  through  *'  woodes  longe  and 
thicke,  among  raging  beastes,  and  where  thornes  to  the 
very  bones  did  him  pricke."  At  last  he  enters  a  mea- 
dow, "with  swet  flowers  goodly  garnished,"  where  he  is 
subjected  to  another  temptation,  of  the  world ; 

*•  And  as  I  there  lay  I  sawe  sodainly, 
A  man  of  hye  stature  standinge  me  by. 
Aparaled  he  was  in  ryche  aray, 
As  though  he  had  been  a  great  prince  or  kiage, 
Alas  man  quod  he  what  doest  thou  this  way, 
Behold  what  plesures  in  that  pathe  doth  spring 
Wherin  I  do  walke,  and  with  that  saying. 
He  toke  me  vp  streyght,  and  helde  me  on  hye, 
Tell  me  now  quod  he  what  dost  thou  there  spie." 

Castles,  towers,  parks,  rich  pastures,  corn,  oxen  and 
sheep,  gold  and  silver,  pass  before  him  in  due  order ; 
all  of  which  he  is^  offered  the  enjoyment  of,  if  he  will 
return ;  he  is  enraptured  with  the  oft'er,  and  is  in  the 
act  of  turning  back,  when  his  faithful  guide  arrests  him, 
and  convinces  him  how  vain,  deceitful  and  cursed  are 
all  the  pleasures  of  the  world — Grace  is  then  again 
solicited  and  as  readily  obtained,  and  he  proceeds 

"  through  a  marisevery  softe, 
(Wher  as  I  thought,  I  should  sure  haue  lefte  her, 
For  in  that  grounde  I  stdbled  wonderous  ofte,") 

emblematical  of  the  frailty  of  life ;  "  a  faire  green" 
however,  at  a  little  distance  encourages  him,  but  he  has 
no  sooner  reached  it,  than  he  meets  with  another  temp- 
tation, of  the  devil,  who  praising  him  for  his  exertions 

assures 


71 

assures  him  that  he  is  now  sufficient  of  himself  to  reach 

the  goal. 

"  Atifl  if  any  do  aboue  the  take  place, 
Thtnke  that  he  dothe  it  thy  fame  to  deface." 

He  instantly  springs  forward  before  his  guide ;  who 
thereupon  reminds  him  of 

"  What  came  of  him  that  so  hye  did  looke, 

When  he  had  thought  to  be  hyest  of  all, 

God  for  his  pryde  suche  vengaunce  on  him  toke, 

That  by  and  by  in  to  hell  he  did  fall, 

Thereto  remaine  in  paines  perpetuall, 

Nowe  as  he  in  him  solfe  gaue  him  selfe  praise, 

So  doth  he  moue  the  to  bringe  the  that  wares. 

He  then  cautions  him  against  pride  and  envy,  the 
latter  of  which  the  devil's  advice  seems  to  encourage ; 
and  relates  to  him  various  instances  of  its  baneful  influ- 
ence, as  of  Cain,  Jacob's  sons,  the  Jews  against  our 
Saviour,  &c.  Much  excellent  advice  follows,  and  he 
is  shewn  the  pit  of  desperation,  from  which  he  has  lately 
and  so  narrowly  escaped,  and  round  which  his  three 
tempters  are  standing.  Impressed  with  a  due^  sense  of 
his  errors  he  again  prays  for  Grace,  who  comes  to  his 
assistance :  bringing  with  her 

*'  Two  deuout  ladyes  of  vertu  excellet," 

Faith  and  Hope,  both  whose  offices  are  explained ;  and 
a  working  faith  shewn  to  be  only  acceptable.  By  faith 
then  and  hope  he  sees  the  tower  of  perfection  ;  and  pro- 
ceeding onwards  under  their  direction,  he  comes  to  a 
great  and  ragged  stone  wall,  in  which  "  stoode  a  dore 
wonderfuU  straite,"  which  is  stated  to  be  the  gate  "  to 
enter  which,  Christ  all  people  exhorted,"  and  the  wall  to 
enclose  the  field  of  penance,  divided  into  three  parts. 
Having  entered,  he  first  meets  a  woman  (Contrition) 
'*  Which  of  my  synfuU  deedes  did  sore  complaine.'* 

He  then  comes  to  a  second  gate,  where  he  meets  a 
*'  woefull  lady"  (Confession) 

'*  The  whiche  helde  her  hart  openly  in  her  hande," 

who  from  various  texts  and  examples  exhorts  him  to 
confess  his  past  sins — upon  which  a  priest  advances  and 
gives  him  "  absolution  sacramental."  Before  he  arrives 
at  the  third  gate  (of  Satisfaction)  he  meets  with  Charity, 

whom 


72 

whom  with  Faith  and  Hope  he  is  ordered  to  l)ear  into  it, 
which  as  he  is  on  the  point  of  performing, 

"  The  met  me  corrupt  nature  which  trouble  me  so 
That  she  stopte  me  at  the  gate  in  I  could  not  go." 

By  the  advice  of  Faith  he  then  looks  in  at  the  gate 

"  Ther  me  thought  I  saw  christ  w  his  wouds  bledlg 
Which  said  toe  to  me,  thi  lacke  I  will  supply, 
In  my  bitter  death,  because  tho>i  accordinge, 
Unto  my  holy  worde,  doest  thy  wyll  apply, 
Though  nature  hinder  the,  I  graunt  the  mercy. 
And  because  thou  hast  done  thy  deligence, 
Come  in  I  pardon  the  for  natures  offence." — 

He  is  then  admitted,  and  beholds  the  towre  of  per- 
fection, which  had  only  one  gate  or  [ortal 

"  To  enter  in  by,  on  which  was  Jesu, 
Deckt  with  precious  stones  fro  which  did  insew, 
So  glorious  a  lyght,  that  the  day  miglit  well 
Be  called  derkenes,  this  lyght  did  so  excell." 

But  even  here  were  "  diners  bye  wayes,"  through 
which  many  who  had  embraced  the  true  word,  were  at 
last  tempted  "  diuersly  to  go,''^  all  which  are  duly  pointed 
out  to  him,  and  their  errors  exposed. 

At  last  he  arrives  at  the  tower,  which  is  thus 
allegorized.  The  lowest  part  was  Humility,  and  was 
supported  by  two  pillars 

*'  Justice  was  the  one  staled  vp  by  equite, 
Lawe,  correction,  iudgemeiit  and  verite. 

The  other  pyller  was  force  or  fortitude, 
Which  was  strongly  staide  by  magnificence, 
With  constaunce  also  whiche  dothe  exclude, 
Al  wauering  thoughtes  which  troubleth  cosciece, 
Toleraunce,  which  bereth  &  forgiueth  ech  oflTece 
And  perseueraiince  kept  all  these  from  separacio. 
This  of  vertue  is  worthy  commendacion." 

Another  comer  was  supported  by  Prudence,  assisted  by 
Providence,  and  the  Peace  of  God  and  Memory.  The 
fourth  by  Temperance,  whose  chief  stay  was  discretion, 
morality,  fasting,  soberness,  and  taciturnity.  There 
were  four  towers  also.  Charity,  Faith,  Hope  and  Grace, 
from  the  latter  proceeded  the  three  former,  and  from 
them  the  roof,  viz.  from  faith 

Religion 


73 

*'  Religion,  clenness,  and  obedience, 
Chastite,  virginitee,  and  holy  continence. 

From  Charite  came  petie,  peace,  and  swetncsc 
Mercy  compassion  and  benignitce, 
Concorde,  vnite,  and  fre  forgyueues, 
Aniitee  vnfained  with  Uberalitee, 
Trail  r,  Almyse,  and  Hospitalitee, 
'I'hese  were  of  suche  vnrtuo  that  they  had  power 
To  couer  thre  partes  of  the  rnffe  of  this  towre. 

From  Hoope  did  procede  holy  contemplacioa 
True  confession,  ioy  and  honeste. 
Compunction  of  hart,  the  soules  consolation, 
Pacience  also  and  longanimitee. 
These  couerde  this  towre  of  hye  felicit^e, 
And  to  garnishe  it  godiy,  I  sawe  on  the  wall. 
The  foure  Evangelistes  and  the  Apostels  all." 
Our  author  is  now  admitted  into  tlie  tower,  and  here 
-we  perceive  the  drift  of  his  allegory  from  the  exhorta- 
tion that  follows,  which  at  the  same  time  that  it  incul- 
cates the  advantages  and  necessity  of  a  holy  and  vir- 
tuous life,  insists  in  equally  strong  terms  upon  the  lead- 
inff  article  of  his  i'ailh — Trausubstantiation. 
^  B.W. 


5  SojtfE  AccousT  OF   Dr.  Rahlin son's  3JSS.  jn 
TME  BoDLEijN .     Poet.  145. 


This  MS.  originally  belonged  to  Hcarne,  and  came  at 
his  decease  to  Ur.  Kawlinson,  who  purchased  Hearne's 
whole  collection,  including  several  of  his  printed  books 
with  M8S.  notes,  tor  one  hundred  pounds,  a  sum 
■which  will  not  now  appear  extraordinary  io  those  who 
are  informed  that  they  considerably  exceeded  two 
hundred  volumes,  nuiny  of  which  contain  ten,  and  some 
twenty  distinct  treatises. 

The  present  consists  of  seven  folios  only,  excellently 
written  on  vellum,  and  although  now  very  much  cut, was 
evidently  large  quarto  in  its  original  state,  it  appears 
to  have  been  used  at  some  subsequent  period  for  tiy  leaves 
to  a  quarto  volume,  as  on  the  tirst  page  is  a  table  of  con- 
tents or  index,  wriften  in  a  modern  hand,  and  adapted 
to  some  theological  treatise  on  the  Romish  Church. 

Ilearn 


74 

Ilcarne  has  described  it  on  the  blank  page  as  follows : 

*'  Suum  C7ii%.    Tho.  Hearne,  1721. 
Fx  dono  amicissimi  viri,  Joannis  Murray  Londinensis. 
Some  very  old  Fragments,  containing 

1.  Remarks  in  verse  upon  K.  Atlielstan,  K.  Edmund, 
King  Edred  and  King  Edgar. 

2.  Two  pages  in  Prose  upon  these  words.  Omnia  quascunq: 
vultis^  ut  faciant  vobis  homines^  eadem  vos  facite  illis. 

3.  Four  Pages  in  verse  (and  some  few  Lines  in  Prose)  upon 
the  Love  of  our  Neighbour,  Purity  of  Heart,  and  upon  Hope. 

4.  Two  Pages  in  Verse  about  the  name  and  division  of 
England. 

5.  Two  Pages  about  K.  Lucius,  K.  Sigebert,  and  about 
some  numbers.   Vol.144.    Pr.  87." 

Hearne,  who  has  quoted  these  fragments  in  Heming's 
Chariulary^  8vo.  172S,  p.  654,  and  again  in  llobert  of 
Gloucester's  Chronicle,  8vo.  1724,  p.  731,  does  not 
seem  aware  that  they  contain  pieces  of  two  distinct 
treatises,  although  written  by  the  same  liand,  nor  did 
Warton,  who  gives  extracts  from  them  in  his  Hist,  of 
Eng.  Poetry,  i.  93 — 98,  describe  them  with  sufficient 
accuracy.  The  fact  is,  that  owing  to  the  mistake  of 
the  binder,  both  these  singular  fragments  are  so  inter- 
mingled, as  to  render  it  very  difficult  to  unite  the  parts 
of  each  treatise  properly,  particularly  as  the  last  lines  of 
some  pages,  and  the  first  of  others,  in  several  places, 
are  totally  lost.  I  have  however  endeavoured  to  con- 
nect them,  and,  I  think,  with  success. 

The  first  fragment  is  part  of  the  Chronicle  of 
Engleland,  printed  by  Ritson  in  his  Ancient  English 
Metrical  Romances,  8vo.  1802,  ii.  270,  which  he 
transcribed  from  a  MS.  in  the  royal  library  (12  C  xii), 
and  which  commences : 

*'  Herkneth  hideward,  lordynges. 
Ye  that  wolieth  here  of  Kynges  : 
Ant  ye  mowcn  heren  anon 
Hou  Engelonde  furst  bigon."* 

In  the  advocate's  library,  Edinburgh,  is  another 
copy  with  the  following  title : 

*  This  Chronicle,  according  to  Ritson,  bears  internal  evidence 
of  having  beeu  composed  in  the  reign  of  £dwanJ  the  Second,  and 
the  MS.  itself  seems  of  the  same  age. 

Here 


75 

**  Here  may  men  read,  who  CO  can, 
How  Inglond  firstbigan  ; 
Thtu  mow  it  find  in  Englische 
As  the  Brout  it  telleth  y  wis." 

The  present  MS.  commences,  as  I  suppose,  with  what 
Hearne  terms,"  about  some  numbers,"  fol.  7,  b,  which 
is  merely  a  direction  how  to  write  from  one  to  six  hun- 
dred thousand,  as : 

r        V        1' 

1'  1'  m        m        m 

m:    ij.m.    iij:   iiij:    v 
1000,   2000,   3000,  4000,  5000,  Jkc. 

i'     1' 

m     m 

x:    xx: 
10000,  20000,  &c. 

1»      1'    I 

m     m     m 

c     c      c 

100000,  200000,  300000,  &c. 

Et  sic  ascendendo  per  ordinem  predictum  usq.  ad  numerum 

infinitum,"  &c.* 

At  fol.  2  the  metrical  portion  of  the  chronicle  begins, 
preceded  by  the  following  abstract  of  events,  in  red  ink. 

*'  Nota  ab  origine  mundi  usq.  ad  incarnacionem  dni  nri 
ihu  xp'i.  quinq.  ^    Nonaginta.  nouem  anni. 

A  morte  bruti  usq.  ad  regnum  arthuri  regnarunt  in  aglia 
diuisim.     C.  reges  quor  xvj.  erant  xplani. 

Anuo  dni.  Quingentesimo.  xvj°.  coronacio  Arthuri  Regis 
qui  regnauit  annis.  XXTJ.  de  cuius  obitu  uel  sepultura  certum 
lion  referunt  historic.  Anno  dai.  Quingentesimo.  lxxxvj°, 
ab  Anglis  dicitur  Anglia  diuisa  p'  octo  regna,  id  est :  Can- 
ciam.  Southesexiam.  Westsexiam.  Merciam.  Estesxiam.  £s- 
tangliam.  Derram  &  breniam.'* 

•  The  introduction  of  arithmetical  information  is  by  no  means 
uncommon  in  ancient  manuscripts,  even  where  the  subject  matter 
of  the  remainder  is  perfectly  different.  The  computation  given  in 
the  present  MS.  was  afterwards  considerably  enlarged  by  John 
Husvvist,  in  a  very  curious  volume  4to.  1334.  Enchiridion  nouus 
Algorismi  summopere  viaus  de  integris  minutijs  vulgarib'  proiectiliV  et 
regulis  mercatof  sine  jiguraruz  (more  Italof )  deletione  p  comode 
tractas  otiiib'  cuiuscuq.  status fuerint  inuUum  necessarius, 

2  It 


76 

It  would  seem  from  the  arithmetical  information,  and 
the  chronological  abstract  just  noticed,  tliat  these  frag- 
ments composed  part  of  a  volume  intended  as  well  for 
the  private  study  oitbe  early  history  of  the  times,  as  for 
recitations  on  public  occasions,  illthongh  containing 
several  passages  not  found  in  the  MS.  in  the  royal  library, 
they  still  appear  to  have  formed  a  part  rather,  of  an  ab- 
breviation of  the  chronicle  of  England,  than  the  chronicle 
itself.  This  will  be  seen  by  comparing  the  first  passage 
with  Ritson's  copy.  It  commences  with  the  introduc- 
tion of  Christianity  into  England : 

*'  In  that  tyme  y*  pope  of  rome. 

He  be  thowthhym  wel  swythfc*son« 

Code  werkys  for  to  wyrche, 

And  to  syng  in  holy  churche, 

Gloria  in  eicelsis  deo  ; 

And  zefe  grete  pardon  ther  too. 

After  hym  J  understood, 

J^ucius  browzte  in  to  Englond 

Cristandome,  unite,+  and  pes, 

Ffrann  the  pope  Eleatheiies, 

That  be  fore  seynt  Austyn  came  here 

J.  C.  Tij.and  .1.  zere  + 

Tho  crislyndomecame  in  tothislande 

Whas  Sebard  kyng  in  Englond." 

The  MS.  in  the  Royal  library  begins  with  an  account 
of  Brute,  Lokeryn,  Lud,  Bladud,  &c.  The  tradition  of 
the  latter's  formation  of  the  warm  baths,  since  so  cele- 
brated, is  very  curious : 

*'  After  thilke  Kyng  Lud 
Reiguede  his  sone  Bladud  ; 
He  wes  clerk  of  nigremancie. 
That  ys  an  art  of  gret  maistrie ; 
He  made  the  wonder,  ful  y  wis 
That  hote  bathe  ycleped  ys. 

•  Earnestly.        f  Gright.  MS.  reg. 
J  Four  hundred  and  ahte  and  f  lurti  yer.     MS.  reg. 
Er  ihat  seint  Austin  hider  come  y  wis, 
Four  hundred  zer  and  twenti  ido  was  al  this." 
MS.  Collation  by   Dr.  Waterland,    to   Rob.  of   Gloucester's 
Chronicle,  by  Hearne,  Bibl.  Bodl. 

Herkjieth 


77 

Herkneth  alle  that  beth  hende,* 
Ant  y  schal  telle,  ord  and  ende,+ 
The  rihte  sothe,  ^ful  y  wys, 
Hou  bote  bathe  ymaked  ys  : 
Four  tonnes  ther  beoth  of  bras, 
Al  for  sothe  thus  hit  was, 
Feole§  thinges  ther  beth  ynne, 
Craftlllch  ymad  with  gynne,|J 
Quic  brimston  and  other  alsuo, 
With  wylde  fur  ymad  therto, 
Salgemme  and  saltpetre 
Salarinoniac  ther  ys  eke, 
Salnitre  that  ys  briht ; 
Berneth  bothe  day  and  nyth. 
This  ys  in  the  tonnes  ydon, 
Ant  other  thinges  moni  on  : 
Berneth  bothe  nyht  and  day, 
Ah  never  quenchen  hit  ne  may. 
In  four  sprunges  the  tonnes  liggeth, 
Ase  this  [)hilosofres  suggeth,! 
The  hete  withynne,  water  withoute, 
Maketh  hot  al  aboute. 
The  tuo  sprunges  urneth  yfere,** 
Ah  the  other  tuo  beth  more  clere  ; 
Therof  ys  maked,  fu!  y  wys, 
That  Kynges  bathe  ycleped  ys." 

Ritson,  ii.  277. 

The  story  proceeds  to  inform  us,  thatif  any  of  the  mate- 
rials were  found  wanting  to  effect  this  great  undertaking  : 

"  From  Bathe  to  Londone  he  wolde  fleo, 
Antthiikedai  selfayeyn  tec." 

The  metrical  chronicle,  however,  does  not  tell  us  how 

*  Kind,  courteous, 
"  Ac  wen  he  nas  o  Hue  nozt,  he  bad  the  kyn^  be  hinde/' 

Rob.  of  Gloucester,  1*24, 
t  Beginning  and  end,  the  tbllowing  lines  explain  both  these 
verses  exactly. 

"  hhe  seyde,  syr  knyght,  gentyl  and  hende 
I  wot  thy  Stat ,  ord  and  ende 

Be  naught  aschauied  of  me" 

Launfal,  v.  SOS 
t  Truth.  j  Many,     Ang.  Sax.  peala* 

II  Ensjine,  or  contrivance.  %  Sajeth, 

**  Run  together. 

neccssarj- 


78 

necessary  all  this  trouble  was  to  his  prosperity,  which 
will  be  proved  by  the  following  brief  account : 

"And  aft'  this  ludibras,  reigned  Bladude  his  son  &  a 
gret  nigrpmancier,  the  whitch  thorow  tnervaitous  hole  bathes 
reigned  xxj  yer'  &  died" — &c.  Prose  Chronicle^  Bkuts, 
MS.  in  Bibl.  Bodl.  Digby^  185.  chap.  xi. 

To  return  to  Kin^^  Sebert,  or  rather  Segbert.  The 
MS.  continues  in  prose  ; 

"  Anno  drii  Sexcentesimo  primo  cepit  ^  regnare  Rex  Sober- 
tus  renouator  Ecclie  Westmonasterij  qm  beatus  Petrus  tunc 
dedicauit  in  qua  rex  ipe  regni  sui  Anno  quintodecimo  tumu. 
latur.* 

He  was  a  gode  holy  man^ 

Westmyster  he  ferste  by  ganae  ; 

Westmyster  he  dud  ferste  a  rere, 

A  sydent  he  was  y  by  red  there. 

[Here  the  two  next  lines  are  lost,  which  I  supply  from 
the  remarks  at  the  beginning  of  the  Cottoniau  MS.  of 
Rob.  of  Gloucester.     Hearne's  edit.  p.  610. 

*'  Seuen  hundred  yere  &  six  there  were  nigh  agon, 
Sithe  that  he  was  buried  fairevnder  a  ston,"] 
And  now  heys  all'  so  hole  y  fonde, 
As  whan  he  was  y  leyde  on  grounde  : 
And  zyf  ze  will'  not  trow  me, 
Goth  to  Westmyst'  and  ze  mow  se." 

Then  follows  the  account  of  "  mayde  ynge,"  which 
is  not  in  Ritson*s  copy,  but  which,  as  it  has  been  given 
by  Warton,  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry^  i,  98 — 100,  and  by 
Hearne,  in  his  glossary  to  Robert  of  Gloucestery  731, 
needs  not  to  be  repeated  here. 

The  next  leaf  begins  with  a  list  of  Oie  presents  sent  to 
King  Athelstan  by  King  Charles  the  Uiird  of  France; 

*'  Therin  was  closyd  a  nayle  grete. 

That  went  thorw  oure  lordis  fete.| 

Zyt  he  presentyd  hym  the  spere. 

That  Charles  was  wont  to  here 

•In  red.  f  Afterwards. 

JHelena,  mother  to  King  Constantine,  being  con v»rted  to  the 
Christian  religion,  "  traueyled  sooue  after  to  lerusalem,  where  she 
by  her  industry  and  labour,  fande  out  the  holy  crosse,  with  the 
.iii.  naylcs  that  oure  Lorde  was  nayled  with  to  the  same  crosse." 
Fabyan,  Chronicle,  edit.  1811,  p.  47,  where  the  reader  wiil  see  the 
devuut  manner  in  which  Helena  disposed  of  these  precious 
curiosities. 

A 


79 

A  zeni  y'  sarasyms  ia  batayle 

Many  swore  and  sayde  sarafayle 

That  w*  that  spere  smerte 

Oure  lorde  was  stongen  to  y'  herte 

And  a  party  of  the  holy  crosse 

Ju  crystalle  done  yn  a  cloos 

And  iij  of  the  thornes  kene 

That  was  in  crystes  hede  seno 

And  a  ryche  crovvne  of  golde 

None  rycher  Kjng  wery  scholde 

Y  made  w*  yn  &  w'  oute 

With  precius  stonys  alle  a  bowte," — 8cc. 

See  the  remainder  in  Warton,  i.  94,  95,  who  has 
however  omitted  the  metrical  titles,  in  Latin,  prefixed 
to  the  reigns  of  the  several  kings.  These  do  not  seem  to 
be  found  in  the  royal  MS.  or  in  that  at  Edinburgh. 

1.  *'  Post  Athplstanum  fratrem  regnauerat  Edmund, 
Quem  post  occidit  gladio  sicarius  unus. 

2.  Edred  Edmundo  successit,  tercius  horum, 
Uir  sanctus,  sed  dum  vixit,  ualitudine  tentus. 
Edmundus  fratrem  medius  generauit  Edwynum, 
Edgarumque  pium  morura  probitate  venustum. 

St.  Tunc  pius  Edgarus  fratri  successit  Edwyno, 
Justicia  cum  pace  tenens,  per  tempora  longa  ; 
Archiepiscopus  efiiciturDunstanus  ab  isto, 
Odraari  comitis  hlc  natam  duxerat  ex  qua," 

The  remaining  portion  of  these  fragments  is  on  a  sub- 
ject totally  different,  although  no  doubt  can  exist  of 
their  being  written  by  the  same  hand ;  in  all  probability 
indeed,  they  were  composed  by  the  same  author,  as  the 
preceding  Chronicle.  They  consist  of  short  explana- 
tions of  various  scriptural  passages  in  prose,  intermixed 
with  exhortations  in  metre,  to  which  are  prefixed  texts, 
in  Latin,  as  titles  to  the  subjects  illustrated.  An  extract 
from  each  will  more  immediately  shew  the  nature  of  these 
ancient  instructions. 

*' Omnia  quecumq.  uultis  ut  faciant  uobfs  homines,  eadem 
uos  facite  illis.*  That  ys  to  say  alle  thynges  that  ye  wyiiey* 
men  do  to  zow  do  ze  y'  the  same  to  hemen.t  And  therfore 
y  der  hardely  say.  y*  yf  ze  kepeth  thes  commaundementis  ya 

♦  In  red. 

t  Them.    Hem  is  continually  used  by  old  writers  in  this  sense. 

Ang.  Sax,  heome* 

louymg 


'SO 

lonying  god  oner  alle  thynij.  And  zowre  neyzebor  as  2ow 
selfc.  And  last  yii  kepyug  of  thys  lesson  to  zowre  lyfe  yi 
ende."' — &c. 

"  Beat!  mundo  corde  quoniam  ipsi  deum  uidebuut.* 

That  ys  to  say  y  telle  hyt  the, 
The  clon^  i)f  hevte  y  blessed  they  be. 
Ffor  ate  the  hyze  domet  sykeilyche,| 
They  schullen  se  god  a  pertelyche§ 
In  hys  god  hede,  and  yn  hys  blysse, 
Of  wvche  they  schullen  neuer  inysse. 
Than  schullen  they  hyre  and  herkue  nowtbc 
A  blessed  worde  of  god  ys  mowthe  ; 
Cometh  my  blessyd  fere,[| 
That  to  my  fader  beth  leue^f  &  dere, 
Into  my  blysse  r-e  schullen  wende,** 
'I  hat  lastyth  euer  w'  oute  ende. 
Andeuer  more  therynne  to  wonetr 
Wyt  the  fader  and  wyth  the  sone, 
And  w'  the  holy  goste.  yn  vnite, 
Ther  ys  the  holy  trinite." — &c. 

From  the  general  character  of  these  curious  fragments, 
I  should  suppose  they  originally  formed  part  of  a  volume 
intended  for  the  study  and  information  of  the  younger 
part  of  society  in  some  religious  house.  Theological, 
historical,  and  arithmetical  instruction  were  evidently 
the  ends  proposed,  and  it  seems  by  no  means  improba- 
ble,, that  the  metrical  portions  were  used  either  for 
recitation,  or  as  songs  on  the  principal  lestivals  of  the 
church,  and  at  the  commemorations  of  the  founders  of 
the  society. 

They  were  probably  written  about  the  year  1520. 

It  is  singular  that  Selden,  in  his  notes  to  the  Polv' 
olbion  song  3,  quotes  a  part  of  the  Chronicle^  which  he 
tells  us  he  found  "  in  a  very  ancient  fragment."  It  is 
very  likely  to  have  been  a  portion  of  this  identical  MS. 

P.  B. 

•In  red.  f  Last  Judgment.       I  Certainly.        $  Openly. 

II  Companion.  If  LiO\ xmJ.-  ♦*  Go.  ft  Dwell. 


81 

Fragment  of  a  Metrical  Romance.     MS. 

It  is  well  known  to  those  conversant  with  our  early 
literature  that  poems  of  the  humorous  kind,  especially 
those  which  answer  to  the  fabliau  of  the  French  min- 
strels, are  comparatively  of  very  rare  occurrence  in  our 
own  language.* 

This  circumstance  induces  me  to  think  the  annexed 
fragment  not  unworthy  of  insertion  in  the  Bibliogra' 
pher.  It  is  faithfully  copied  from  the  same  MS.  which 
afforded  the  termination  of  Sir  Cleges.  The  story 
evidently  belongs  to  the  same  class  with  those  of  The 
King  and  the  Tanner  of  Tamworth,  The  31iller  of 
Mansfield f  &c. 

I  liave  added  a  few  explanatory  notes,  and  those  few 
are  perhaps  scarcely  necessary  for  persons  even  mode- 
rately acquainted  with  the  works  of  our  earlier  poets. 


Ihesu  that  is  hevyn  kyng 
Giffthem  all  god  endyng. 

(If  itbethy  wyll.) 
And  gif  them  parte  of  hevenly  game, 
That  well  can  call  gestes  samet 

With  mete  and  drinke  to  fylle. 
When  that  men  be  glad  and  blyth, 
Tham  were  solas  god  to  lyth, 

He  that  wold  be  stylle. 
Off  a  kyng  I  wyll  you  telle, 
What  a  ventore  hym  be  felle, 

He  that  wyll  herke  theretylle. 
It  be  feile  be  god  Edwerd's  deys, 
Ffor  soth  so  the  romans  seys, 

Herkyng  I  wyll  you  telle. 
The  Kyng  to  Scherwod  gan  wend, 
On  hys  pleyng  for  to  tlend, 

Ffor  to  solas  hym  that  stond, 
The  grete  herte  for  to  htinte, 

In  §'frythys  and  in  felle. 
With  ryall  fests  and  feyr  ensemble 
With  all  ye  lordys  of  that.contre 

*  See  Mr.  Weber's  Introduction  to  Sir  Cleges, 
f  Together.  |  To  remain.  §  Woods. 

VOL.  IV.  Q  With 


82 

With  hym  ther  gan  thci  ^ell.""  5'"'*^  ^-i-' 
Tyll  it  be  fell  upon  a  day. 
To  hys  forstere  he  gan  sey, 

*'  Ffelowys  vvere  is  the  best? 
*'  In  your  playng  vrher  ye  have  bene? 
*'  Were  have  ye  most  gam  s^ne 

"  Offderein  this  forest  ?" 
They  answerd,  and  fell  on  kne, 
"  Overall,  Jjord,  is  gret  plente 

"  Both  est  and  west, 
**  We  may  scheu-  you  at  a  syht 
"  Two  thousand  dere  this  same  nyht 

"  Or  ye  son  go  to  reste." 
An  old  forester  drew  hym  ncre, 
*'  Lyfans  Lord,  1  saw  a  dere 

"  Undtr  a  tre, 
"  So  grete  a  hed  as  he  bare 
"  Sych  one  saw  I  never  *are, 

*'  No  feyrer  myht  be, 
<'  He  is  +more  than  any  two, 
*'  That  ever  I  saw  on  erth  go,"  ' 

Than  seyd  the  kyng  so  fre, 
^'  Thy  ifwaryson  1  will  ye  geve 
*'  Ever  more  whyll  you  doyst  lyve, 

*'  That  dere  you  late  me  se, 
Upon  the  morne  thei  ryden  fast 
With  hounds  and  with  homes  blast 

To  wodde  than  are  thei  wente  ■'' 

Netts  and  gynnes  than  leyd  he,  '^■ 

Every  archer  to  hys  tre. 

With  bowys  redy  bent. 
They  blew  thrys,  uncoupuld  hounds, 
They  reysed  the  dere  up  that  stonds,§ 

So  nere  that  span  and  sprent|| 
The  hounds  all  as  they  were  wode 
They  ronne  the  dere  as  they  were  wodel 

The  kyng  hys  hors  he  hent** 

♦Heretofore.  f  Larger.  t  Reward.  <S  Time.    • 

II  Sprung  up  and  leaped  away.    The  two  words  in  the  origiflal' ' 
are  perhaps,  still  more  nearly  synonymous.     '  »a 

If  I  apprehend  that  the  copyist  has  through  inadvertency  sob* 
stituied  a  repetition  of  part  of  the  first  line  in  this  couplet,  ^r  the 
clause  which  originally  terminated  the  second.  *fiy  readlrt* 
*'  thro'  the  giene  wodc,"  we  may  avoid  this  awkard  retiiltrfence»' 

•♦Took.  .f)f;r  a  ^ 

The 


83 

The  kyng  sate  one  a  god  coreser 
Ffast  he  rode  after  ye  dere, 

And  chasyd  hyni  ryght  fast, 
Both  throw  thyke  and  thine, 
Throw  the  forest  he  gan  wyn 

With  hounds  and  homes  blast. 
The  kyng  had  foUowyd  hym  so  long, 
Hys  god  sted  was  ne  strong, 

Hys  hertawey  was  past, 
Horn  ne  hunter  myght  he  not  here, 
So  ranne  the  hounds  at  the  dere, 

A  wey  was  at  the  last. 
The  kyng  had  folowyd  hym  so  long 
Ffro  raydey  to  the  ev'ning  song, 

That  lykyd  hym  full  ille. 
He  ne  vryst  were  that  he  was, 
Ne  out  of  the  forest  for  to  passe, 

And  thus  he  rode  all  wylle. 
ii  Whyle  I  may  the  dey  liht  se 
**  Better  is  to  loge  under  a  tre" 

He  seyd  hym  selve  untyUe. 
The  kyng  cast  in  hys  wytte. 
**  Gyii'  1  stryke  into  a  pytte 

*'  Ilors  and  man  myght  spylle. 
*'  I  have  herd  pore  men  call  at  morow 
*'  Seynt  Julyan  send  yera  god  *hafborow 

*'  When  they  had  nede  kj^^.jjjo 

"  And  that  when  that  they  were tra^yst,! 
"  And  of  herborow  were  abayst,  + 

'*  He  wole  them  wysse  and  rede. 
*'  Seynt  Julyan,  as  I  ame  trew  knyht, 
**  Send  me  grace  this  jche  nyght, 

"  Of  god  harborow  to  sped. 
'*  A  gift  I  schall  thee  gyve, 
*'  Every  here  whyll  that  I  lyve, 

*'  Ffolke  for  thy  sake  to  fede." 

*  riarhour,  lodging.  Three  saints  named  Julyan  are  conime- 
morated  in  the  Golden  Legend.  One  of  these  is  supposed  to  be 
thesame  person  with  Simon  the  Leper;  and  some  sai^e  that  thviis/ie 
that  Fylgri/mes  and  zcai^feringe  men  cull  and  require  for  good  herbo- 
roue,  became  our  Lord  was  lodged  in  hi/s  house.  G.  L.  The  author 
however,  afterwards  states  his  belief  that  another  St.  Julyan  is  the 
patron  invoked  in  such  cases.  His  legend  is  to  be  found  in  that 
work,  and  is  not  uninteresting. 

t Bewildered  ^Disappointed.  «jc>)  *' 

G  2  As 


84 

As  he  rode  whyll  he  had  lyht, 
And  ?t  the  last  he  hade  syght 

Off  an  hermyte  hym  be  sydc, 
Oflthat  syj^ht  he  was  full  feyn. 
Ffor  he  wold  gladly  be  in  the  pleyn 

And  theder  he  gan  to  ryde. 
An  hermytage  he  found  there, 
He  throwyd  a  chapell  that  it  were, 

Than  seyd  the  kyng  that  tyde 
*'  Now  seynt  Julyan  a  bone  ventyll* 
*'  As  pylgrymes  know  full  wele 

"  Yonder  I  wyll  abyde." 
A  lytell  gate  he  fond  ney 
There  on  he  gan  to  call  and  cry, 

That  within  myght  here. 
That  herd  an  hermyte  there  within, 
Unto  the  gate  he  gan  to  wyn, 

Bedyng  his  preyer. 
And  when  the  hermyt  saw  the  kyng, 
He  seyd;  "  Sir  gode  evynyng" 

"  Wele  worth  thee,  Sir  Frere." 
"  I  prey  thee  I  myht  be  thy  gest, 
*'  Ffor  I  have  ryden  wyll  in  this  forest^ 

"  And  nyght  neyhes  me  nere." 
The  hermyte  seyd,  "  So  mote  I  thejf 
*'  Ffor  sych  a  lord  as  ye  be, 

*'  I  have  non  herborow  tyll, 
<*  Bot  if  it  be  soe  pore  a  wyght, 
*'  I  ne  der  not  herbor  hyra  a  nyht, 
*'  But  he  for  faute  schuld  spyll.+ 
"  I  wone  here  in  wyldernes, 
*'  With  rotys  and  rynds  among  wyld  bests, 

"  As  it  is  my  lords  wylle." 
The  kyng  seyd,  "  I  ye  beseche 
**  The  wey  to  the  toune  thou  wold  me  teclie ; 

"  And  I  schoU  thee  be  hyght,|| 
*'  That  I  schall  thy  trevell  quyte 
"  That  thou  schall  me  not  wyte,f 

*  A  bonne  aventure.  t  So  may  I  thrive. 

t  I  am  not  dear  as  to  the  intention  of  this  line.  It  may  sig- 
nify, "  I  dare  not  harbour  even  a  poor  man  lest  he  should  die  froiii 
fatigue  or  want  of  strength."  (A  circumstance  which  might  bring 
suspicion  on  his  host.)  Or  "  I  dare  not  harbour  him  unless  he 
j)ositively  faint  from  weariness." 

II  Proniise  thee.  ■%  Reproach. 

Of 


85 

**  Or  passyth  this  fortnylit 
**  And  if  thou  wyll  not,  late  thy  knave  go, 
*'  To  teche  me  a  myle  or  two, 

*'  The  whylys  I  have  doy  lyf^ht." 
*<  By  Seynt  Mary,"  said  the  frere, 
*  *'  Schorte  sirvys  getysthou  here, 

**  And  I  can  redearyght." 
Than  seyd  the  kyng,  "  My  dcre  frend 
**  The  wpy  to  the  towne  if  I  schuld  wynd 

*'  How  fer  may  it  be  ? 
*'  Syr,"  he  seyd,  "  so  mote  I  thryve. 
**  To  the  towne  is  myles  fyve 

**  Ffrom  this  long  tre. 
*'  A  wyld  wey  I  hold  it  were, 
**  The  wey  to  wend  I  you  swere, 

*'  Bot  ye  the  dey  may  se.+ 
Than  seyd  the  kyng  *'  Bi  gods  myght 
*'  Ermyte,  I  schall  here  abode  with  thee  this  nyght, 
•<  And  els  I  were  wo." 
^    *'  Me  thinke,"  seyd  the  hermyte,  "  thou  art  a  stoute 
**  syre, 
**  I  hare  ete  up  all  the  hyrej 
**  That  ever  thou  gafe  me, 
<c  Were  I  oute  of  my  hermyte  wede 
"  Off  thy  favyllll  I  wold  not  dred, 

*'  Thafif  thou  were  sych  thre, 
*'  Loth  I  were  with  thee  to  fyght, 
*'  I  will  herbor  thee  all  nyght, 

**  And  it  be-hovyth  so  be, 
**  Such  gode  as  thou  fynds  here,  take^  • 
*'  And  aske  thyn  in  for  God's  sake." 

*'  Gladly  sir"  sayd  he. 
Hys  stede  in  to  the  hous  he  lede 
With  litter  son  he  gaf  hym  bed 
Met  ne  was  there  now 

*  I  do  not  clearly  understand  the  drift  of  this  sentence  s  it  ap- 
pears uncivil,  a  circumstance  rendered  doubtful  by  the  gentleness 
of  the  king's  rejoinder.  Can  it  mean  simply,  that  the  king  would 
derive  very  little  benefit  from  the  attendance  of  the  knave  for  a 
mile  or  two  ?  If  we  read  thei-e  for  Iiere,  this  interpretation  will  be 
more  probable.  f  Unless  you  have  daylight. 

X  Appears  a  proverbial  expression  or  vulgarism  for  "  I  am  not 
much  indebted  to  you." 

|l  Favyll,  speech,  threats,  (Favele.  Old  French,  from  the  Latin 
Fabula.) 

The 


m 


86 

The  frere  he  had  bot  barly  sircf^ 
Two  (hake  ♦bendsfull  without  no, 

Ffor  soth  it  was  fnr*h  born. 
Before  the  hors  the  kyng  it  leyd. 
*'  BeSeynt  Mary,"  the  hermyte  seytl, 

"  Every  thing  have  we  non," 
The  kyng  seyd,  "  Gramsy  frere, 
"  Wele  at  ese  ame  I  now  here, 

*'  A  nyht  wyll  son  be  gon." 
The  kyng  was  never  so  servysable, 
He  hew  the  wode  and  kepyd  the  stable, 

God  far  he  gan  hym  dyght. 
And  made  hym  ryght  well  at  es, 
And  ever  the  fyre  beforhys  nesc, 

Brynand  feyr  and  bryht. 
**  Leve  Ermyte,"  seyd  the  kyng, 
"  Mete  and  thou  have  any  thing, 

*'  To  soper  you  us  dyght, 
*'  For  sirteynly,  as  I  thee  sey, 
**  I  ne  had  never  so  sory  a  dey, 

"  That  I  ne  had  a  mery  nyght.'* 
The  kyng  seyd  *'  Be  Gods+  are 
**  And  I  such  an  hermyte  were 

*'  And  wonyd  in  this  forest 
*'  When  forsters  were  gon  to  slep- 
**  Than  I  wold  cast  off  my  cope 

"  And  wake  both  est  and  weste 
**  With  a  bow  of  hue  full  strong 
*'  And  arowys  knyte  in  a  thong 

*'  What  wold  me  lyke  best. 
*'  The  kyng  of  venyson  hath  non  nede, 
*'  Hit  myght  me  hape  to  have  a  brede 

"  To  glad  me  and  my  gest." 
The  hermyte  seyd  to  the  kyng, 
*'  Leve  sir  where  is  thy  dwellyng 

"  I  praye  you  wolde  me  sey*' 
**  Sir,  he  seyd,  so  mote  I  the 
*'  In  the  kyngs  courte  I  have  be 

*'  Duellyng  many  a  dey, 
*'  And  my  lord  rode  on  huntyng, 
**  As  grete  lords  doth  many  tyrae, 
*'  That  giff  them  myche  to  pley. 


*  Bandsfull,  bundles.       t  Priority,  sovereignty. 


87 

<'  And  after  a  lorete  hert  have  we  redyn 
"  And  mtkyll  travell  we  have  bydeu 

*'  And  yithe  scape  a  way. 
"  To  dey  erly  in  the  mornyng^ 
**  The  kyng  rode  on  huntyng^ 

*'  And  all  the  courte  beden,* 
*'  A  df  re  we  reysed  in  that  stonds. 
*'  And  gane  chase  with  our  hounds^ 

"  A  feyrer  had  never  man  sene. 
*'  I  have  folowyd  hym  all  this  dey^ 
**  And  ryden  many  a  wylsomwey, 

'*  He  dyd  rae  +trey  and  tene. 
**  I  pray  thee  helpe  me,  I  were  at  es 
*'  +Thou  bought  never  so  god  sirvege 

"  Ip  sted  there  thou  hast  bene 
The  ermyte  seyd  '*  So  God  me  save, 
**  Thou  take  sych  gode  as  we  have, 

"  We  schall  not  hyll  with  thee.'' 
Bred  and  chese  forth  he  brouht, 
The  kyng  ete  whyles  hym  thouht^ 

Non  othyr  mete  saw  he, 
Sethen  §  thyn  drynke  he  droughe, 
Ther  on  he  had  sone  inoughe, 

Than  seyd  the  kyng  so  fre, 
"  Hermyt  pute  up  this  mete  tyte, 
*'  And  if  I  may  1  schall  ye  quyte 

"  Or  passyd  be  thes  monthys  thre." 
Than  seyd  the  kyng,  "  Be  Gods  grace  1 
"  Thou  wonys  in  a  mery  place, 

"  To  schotethou  schuld  lere^ 
*'  When  the  forsters  are  go  to  rest, 
"  Som  tyme  thou  myht  have  off  the  best, 

"  All  of  the  wylld  dere 
**  I  wold  hold  it  for  no  skath 
*'  Thoff  thou  had  bow  and  arowys  bothe, 

"All  thoff  thou  beafrere. 
«'  Ther  is  no  foster  in  all  this  fe 
*'  That  wold  sych  herme  to  thee, 

*'  There  thou  may  leve  here. 

•Together;  t  Trouble, 

X  Never  didst  thou  perform  au  action  so  sure  of  meeting  with 
its  ifeward  in  any  place  where  thou  hast  been. 

$  By  this,  tfiyn  drynke,  vve  are  probably  to  understand  water. 
..  -..-,•/???  Hast 


88 

The  Armyte  seyd,  "  So  mote  fhou  go 
"  *Hast  thou  any  othyr  herand  than  so 

"  On  to  my  lord  the  kyng, 
*'  I  schall  be  trew  to  hym,  I  trow, 
**  Ffor  to  wayte  my  lords  prow, 

*'  Ffor  dred  of  sych  a  thing. 
**  Ffor  iff  I  were  take  with  sych  a  dede 
"  To  the  courte  thou  wold  me  lede, 

"  And  to  prison  me  bryng. 
*•  Bot  if  I  myght  my  ransom  gete, 
*'  Be  bound  in  prison  and  sorow  grete 

*'  And  in  perell  to  hyng." 
Than  seyd  the  kyng,  "  I  wold  not  lete 
*'  When  thou  arte  in  this  forest  sette 

*'  To  stalke  when  men  are  at  rest, 
**  Now  as  thou  arte  a  trew  man, 
*'  Iff  you  ouht  a  scheting  can 

"  Ne  +hyll  it  not  with  your  gest 
*'  Ffor  be  hym  that  dyed  on  tre 
**  Ther  schall  no  man  wyte  for  me 

*'  Whyll  my  lyye  wyll  lest 
*'  Now  hermyte  for  thy  professyon 
*'  Giff  thou  haye  any  venison 

"  Thou  giff  me  of  the  best." 
The  ermyte  seyd,  "  Men  of  grete  state 
"  Our  ordyr  they  wold  make  full  of  bate 

*'  And  on  to  prison  bryngif 


* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

« 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

♦ 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

» 

*'  Aboute  Bchych  mastery 
"  To  be  in  preyer  and  in  penans, 
*'  And  arne  ther  met  by  chans, 

*'  And  not  be  archery. 
**  Many  dey  I  hare  her  ben 
**  And  flesche  mete  I  ete  non 

**  Bot  mylke  off  the  ky. 
t'War  methee  wele  and  go  to  slepe, 
"-  And  I  schall  lape  thee  with  my  cope, 

*  Is  this  the  only  errand  you  have  to  perform  for  the  king? 
tHide.    Helan.   A,  S. 

$  The  transcriber  appears,  from  inadvertency,  to  have  omitted  ai 
irast  five  li  nes  in  this  place. 

"Softly 


89 

"  Softly  to  lyke. 
*'  *Thou  semys  a  felow,"  seyd  the  frere, 
*'  It  is  long  gon  seth  any  was  here, 

*'  Bot  thou  thy  selve  to  nyght." 
Unto  a  cofyr  he  gan  go 
And  toke  forth  candylls  two 

And  sone  there  were  a  lyght. 
A  cloth  he  brought,  and  bred  full  whyte, 
And  venyson  ybake  tyte: 

A  gen  he  +yede  full  ryght, 
Venyson  salt  and  fresch  he  brouht, 
And  bade  him  chese  wher  off  hym  thougt, 

Colopys  for  to  dyght. 
Well  may  ye  wyte  yuow  they  had, 
The  kyng  ete  and  made  hym  glad, 

And  grete  laugtere  he  lowghe, 
**  Nere  I  had  spoke  of  archery, 
*'  I  myht  have  ete  my  bred  full  dryhe,'* 

IThe  kyng  made  it  full  towghe. 
*'  Now  Cryst's  Ulyssing  have  sych  a  frere, 
*'  That  thus  cane  ordeyn  our  soper, 

'*  And  stalke  under  the  wode  bowe. 
**  The  kyng  hym  selves  so  mote  I  the, 
*'  Is  not  better  at  es  than  we 

11"  And  we  have  drinke  inowhe." 
The  hermyte  seyd,  "  Be  Seynt  Savyoure 
"  I  have  a  pott  of  galons  foure 

*'  Standyng  in  a  wro. 
*'  Ther  is  bot  thou,  and  I,  and  my  knave, 
'*  Som  solas  schall  we  have, 

*'  Sethyn  we  are  no  mo." 
The  hermyte  callyd  hys  knave  full  ryhf, 
Wyllyn  Alyn  for  soth  he  hyght, 

And  bad  hym  be  lyve  and  go. 
And  taught  hym  privetly  to  a  sted, 
To  feche  the  hors  cornt  and  bred. 

"  And  luke  that  thou  do  so" 
Unto  the  knave  seyd  the  frere, 
*'  Ffelow  go  -wy htly  here 

*  Some  lines  may  possibly  have  been  omitted  here,  otherAvise 
the  apparently  sudden  alteration  of  the  hermits  intentions  is  but 
indifferently  accounted  for,  unless  indeed  llie  former  part  of  his 
speech  is  meant  to  be  jocose. 

t  Brought,  served.      +  Dressed  or  cooked  it  by  the  fire,  Quaere  r 

{|  If  we  had  only  drink  suflicicnt  for  our  meat. 

«  Thou 


90 

<'  Thou  do  as  I  thee  sey. 
"  Be  syde  my  bed  thou  must  goe 
**  And  take  up  a  floute  of  strawe 

*'  Als  softly,  as  thou  may 
*'  *A  hownyd  pole  ther  standys  there, 
*'  And  God  forbot  that  we  it  spare, 

<'  To  drynke  to  it  be  dey. 
**  And  bryng  me  forth  my  schell, 
*'  And  every  man  schall  hare  hysdele, 

''  And  I  schall  kene  us  pley. 
The  hermyte  seyd,  "  Now  schall  I  se 
*'  Iff  thou  any  felow  be, 

*'  Or  off  pley  canst  ought." 
The  kyng  seyd,  "  So  mote  I  the, 
**  Sey  you  what  thou  will  with  me 

*'  Thy  wryll  it  schall  be  wrouht." 
**  When  the  coppe  romys  into  the  plas, 
*'  +Canst  thou  sey  '■'■  fusty  bandifus,** 

♦*  And  think  it  in  your  thouht. 
**  And  you  schall  here  a  :f  totted  frere 
*'  Sey  "  Stryke  pantnere,"  (vel  pantnere) 

♦*  And  in  ye  cope  leve  ryht  nouht." 
And  when  the  coppe  was  forth  brought, 
It  wasouie  of  the  kyngs  thouht, 

That  word  that  he  schuld  sey. 
The  frere  seyd  "  fusti/  bandyas^^^ 
Then  seyd  thee  kyng  '*  Alas  !  alas  I" 

Hys  word  it  was  a  wey 
*'  What  arte  you  mad,"  seyd  the  frere, 
**  Canst  thou  not  sey  stryke  pantnere, 

*'  Wylt  thou  lerne  all  dey 
•'  And  if  thou  efte  forgete  it  ons, 
<*  Thou  gets  nodrinke  in  this  wons. 

*'  Bot  giff  thou  thinke  upon  thy  pley." 
*'  Ffuaty  bandies j^^  the  frere  seyd, 
And  gafe  the  coppe  such  a  breyd,V 

II  That  well  nyh  of  izede, 

•  Wine  sweetened  by  honey,  a  great  delieacy  of  the  rtriddle  agc». 

1 1  am  totally  at  a  loss  as  to  the  meaning  (if  they  have  any)  of 
these  terms  of  merriment,  nor  can  I  offer  any  thing  in  illustration 
of  the  billy  game  proposed  by  the  hermit. 

J  Totted,    Totty  is  giddy,  perhaps  intoxicated. 

§  Start,  or,  hung,  liitson.  It  appears  here  to  be  synonymotis  witli 
OUT  pull. 

II  That  be  nearly  took  it  all  off. 


The  knare  fyllyd  and  up  it  zede  in  plas 
The  kyng  seyd  ^^  fusty  bandyas.^^ 

Ther  to  hym  stod  gret  nede. 
"  Ffustij  bandyasj*'  seyd  the  frere 
How  long  hast  thou  stond  here 

Or  Ihou  couth  do  thy  dede 
Ffyll  this  efte  and  late  us  lyke, 
♦And  between  rost  us  a  styke, 

Thus  holy  lyve  to  lede. 
The  knave  fyllyd  the  coppe  full  iyte^ 
And  brougt  it  furth  with  grete  delyte, 

Be  for  hyra  gan  it  stand, 
'*  Ffusty  bandyas^'  seyd  the  frere 
Xhe  kyng  seyd  "  siryke  puntnere^* 

And  toke  it  in  hys  hand, 
+  And  stroke  halve  and  more, 
*'  Thys  is  ye  best  pley,  I  suere, 

*'  That  ever  I  saw  in  lond. 
'  I  hyght  thee  hermyte  I  schall  thee  give, 
'  I  schall  thee  quyte  if  yt  I  lyve 

*'  The  god  pley  thou  hast  us  fond." 
'  Than  seyd  the  hermyte,  "  God  quyte  aU, 
'  Bot  when  thou  comys  to  thy  lords  haule, 

*'  Thou  wyll  for  gete  the  frere 

*  Bot  wher  thou  comyst  nyght  ore  ^ey 
'  Yit  myght  thou  thynk  upon  the  pley 

"  That  thou  hast  sene  here 
'  And  thou  com  among  geutyll  men 
'  They  wyll  laugh  then  hem  it  ken 

**  And  make  full  mery  chere, 

*  And  iff  thou  comys  here  for  a  nyht 
'  A  colype  I  dere  thee  behyht 

"  All  of  the  wyld  dere." 
The  kyng  seyd  "  Be  hym  thatme  bouht, 
'  Syre,"  he  seyd,  "  ne  think  it  nouht  t 

*'  That  thou  be  there  forgete.  r  * 

'  To  morow  sone  when  it  is  dey 
'  I  schall  quyte  if  that  I  may 

**  All  that  we  have  here  ete. 
'  And  when  we  come  to  the  kings  gste 

*  We  shall  not  long  stond  therfe-ate 


*  I  do  not  understand  this  Jii^aii  or  disconnection  with  the  fol- 
lowing one.  .. 
tThis  appears  to  allude  to  stryke,  (see  the  preceding  note), 
^rfX  The 


92 

"  In  we  scfaall  be  lete 
**  And  by  my  feyth  I  schall  not*  blyne 
**  Tyll  the  best  that  is  there  ine 

**  Be  tween  us  two  be  sete 
The  Ermyteseyd.     "  By  him  that  me  boubt, 
*'  Syre,''  he  seyd,  *'  ne  thinke  it  nouht, 

"  I  swere  ye  by  my  ley, 
*'  I  have  be  ther  and  takyndele. 
**  And  have  hade  many  merey  mele. 

*'  I  dare  full  savely  sey 
*'  Hopys  thou  I  wold  for  a  mase 
"  Stond  in  the  my  re  there  and+  dase 

*'  Neyhand  halve  a  dey 
'^  Ther  charyte  comys  thorow  such  raenys  hend, 
'*  He  havys  fuUlytell  that  stond  at  J  hend, 

**  Or  that  he  go  a  wey 
*'  Hopys  thou  that  I  am  so  preste, 
*'  For  to  stond  at  the  kyng  gate  and  reste, 

**  Ther  pleys  for  to  lere. 
**  I  have  neyhbors  her  nygh  hand 
•*  I  send  them  of  my  presente 

**  Be  syds  of  the  wyld  dere. 
**  Off  my  presants  they  are  feyn 
**  Bred  and  ale  they  send  me  ageyn 

*'  Thus  gates  lyve  I  here." 
The  king  seyd.  "  So  mote  I  the 
Hermyte,  roe  §  pays  wele  with  thee, 

*'  Thou  arte  a  II  horpyd  frere'' 
The  kyng  seyd  "  Yit  myght  thou  come  in  dey 
**  Unto  the  courte  for  to  pley 

'*  A  venteroysfor  to  sene 
*'  Thou  wote  not  what  thee  be  tyde  may 
*'  Or  that  thou  gon  a  wey 

*'  The  better  thou  may  bene 
**  ThoffI  be  here  in  pore  clothing 
*'  I  ame  no  bayschyd  for  to  bryng 


*  Stop. 

t  Dasc,  perhaps  shiver.    See  to  Dase  in  Jamieson's,  Scot.  Dic' 
tionary. 

I  That  stands  low  ? 

§  Pays  wele  with  the.    This  utage  of  the  word  pai/s  does  not  ap- 
pear intelligible. 

II  Ilorpyd.    Of  this  word  I  can  offer  no  explanation,   although 
I  cannot  but  think  that  I  have  seen  it  explained  elseM'here. 

*«  Gestys 


93 

**  Gestys  two  or  thre 
**  Ther  is  no  man  in  all  this  wonys 
**  That  schall  myssey  to  thee  onys 

"  Bot  as  I  sey  so  schall  it  be," 
Sertis  seyd  the  hermytethan. 
**  I  hope  you  be  a  trew  man, 

**  I  schall  a  ventore  *  the  gate, 
*'  Bot  tell  me  first,  leve  syre, 
'*  After  what  man  schall  I  spy  re  ? 

"  Both  erly  and  late." 
*'  Jhake  Flecher,  that  is  my  name, 
,        *'  All  men  knowys  me  at  home 

*'  I  am  at  young  man  state, 
*^  And  thoff  I  be  here  in  pore  wede 
**  In  sych  a  stede  I  can  ye  lede 

*'  There  we  schall  be  made  full  +  hate." 
'*  Aryse  up,  Jake,  and  go  with  me, 
**  And  more  of  my  privyte 

*'  Thou  schall  se  som  thyng." 
Into  a  chambyr  he  hym  lede, 
The  kyng  sauwe  aboute  ye  herraytes  bed 

Brod  arowys  hynge. 
The  frere  gaff  him  a  bow  in  hond. 
"  Jake,''  he  seyd,  *'  draw  up  the  bond." 

He  myghti  oneth  sty  re  the  streng. 
"  Sir;"  he  seyd,  "  so  have  I  blys, 
**  There  is  no  archer  that  may  schot  in  this, 

*'  That  is  with  my  lord  the  kyng." 
An  arow  of  an  elle  long 
In  hys  bow  he  it  throng. 

And  to  the  hede  he  gan  it  hale. 
"  Ther  is  no  dere  in  this  foreste, 
*  *  And  it  wolde  one  hym  feste  ; 

*'  Bot  it  schuld  spyl!  his  skale  § 
**  Jake  sith  thou  can  of  |I  flecher  crafte, 
*'  Thou  may  me  ese  with  a  schafte." 

Than  seyd  Jake.  "  I  schall." 
*'  Jake  and  I  wyst  (hat  thou  were  trew, 
"  Or  and  I  thee  better  knew, 

*  I  slrall  venture  on  the  journey  or  visit. 

t  Hot,  warm,  comfortable  ?  J  Only. 

§  I  do  not  clearly  understand  this  expression.    Can  spill  his 
skale,  signify  pierce  (injure)  his  skull,  or  his  hide? 

II  Alluding  to  the  signification  of  the  name  Flet  cher,by  whieh 
the  kin^  had  called  himself. —"■    '"-       "'"'  '""  ." 

■  ■       .  >.i»  3j  naM  s^sri  1  Js'li  iJoi:  Than 


94 

"  More  thou  schald  se" 
The  kyng  to  h)  m  grote  othys  swer, 
*'  The  covennaiul  we  made  whjle  are, 

"  I  wyll  that  it  hold  be." 
Tyll  two  trowys*  hegan  hym  lede, 
Otf  venyson  there  was  many  brede,f 

*'  Jake  how  thinkes  thee  ? 
*'  Whyle  there  i&dere  in  this  forest, 
**  Som  tyme  I  may  have  of  the  best 

*'  The  kyng  wyte  save  on  me. 
*'  Jake  and  you  wyll  have  a  of  rayn  arowys  have 
*'  Take  thee  of  them  and  in  thou  leva 

**  And  go  we  to  our  pley." 
And  thus  thei  sate  whh  fusty  bandt/as 
And  with  stryke  pnntnere  in  that  plas, 

Tyll  it  was  nere  hand  dey. 
When  tyme  was  com  there  rest  to  take, 
On  morn  they  rose  when  they  gon  wake. 
J   The  frere  he  gan  to  sey. 
-•     ■    *'  Jake  I  wyll  with  thee  go, 

'*  In  thy  feloTvschype  a  royle  ore  two, 

*'  Tyll  you  have  redy  weys, 
Then  seyd  the  kyng.  *'  Mekyll  thanke, 
*'  I3ot  when  we  last  nyght  to  gother  dranke 

"  Thinke  what  thou  me  be  hyght. 
"  That  fhou  schuld  com  som  dey 
•*  Unto  the  rourte  for  to  pley, 
^,  *'  When  tyme  thou  se  thou  myght." 

oir       *•'  Sertis,"  scyd  ye  hermyte,  than, 
*'  I  schall  com,  as  I  ame  trew  man, 

"  Or  to  morrow  at  nyght  " 
Either  betauht  other  gode  dey 
Tiie  kyng  toke  the  redy  wey 

Home  he  rode  full  ryght 
Knyghtes  and  squyres  many  mo 
All  that  nyght  they  rode  and  go 

Wiih  syhengand  sorowyng  sore 
They  cry  lied  and  blew  with  hydoys  ber«t, 
Giff  they  myht  of  there  lord  here, 

Wher  that  ever  he  were. 
\Vhen  the  kyng  hys  bugyll  blew, 
Knyhtes  and  forsters  wele  it  knew, 

<tjT|?flpugUf,  used  for  salting  and  preserving  vcuison. 

And 


96 

And  lystin'd  to  hym  there. 
Many  man  that  wer  masyd  and  made, 
The  blast  of  that  horu  made  them  glad, 
To  the  towqe  than  gan  they  fare. 

*  *  It  *  *  *  * 

Here  the  manuscript  fails,  the  conclusion  of  the  story, 
relating,  probably,  the  adventures  of  our  hermit  at  court, 
having  been  unfortunately  torn  oul. 

In  examining  the  manuscript  more  attentively,  1  have 
observedthatthecopy  which  it  contains  of  the  "  Erie  of 
Toloiis^'  varies  occasionally  from  that  published  by 
llitson,  (which  appears  to  have  been  somewhat  moder- 
nized by  a  later  transcriber)  and  that  the  <'  King  Orfeo''' 
mentioned  in  my  former  communication  as  part  of  its 
contents,  is  altogetlier  different  from  the  translation  (for 
they  are  both  probably  translated  from  some  French 
original,)  published  by  that  industrious  antiquary. 

C 

I'd  the  Editor  of  the  British  Bibliographer. 
Sir, 

When  you  put  forth  the  Censura  Literaria,  I  had, 
under  my  present  signature,  stated  an  inquiry,  with  a 
view  to  learn  who  was  the  author  of  that  first  complete 
translation  of  the  Basia  of  Secundus  which  appeared  in 
1731.  But  I  obtained  no  intelligence  in  consequence. 
I  am,  however,  now  enabled  to  give  an  answer  to  my 
own  question ;  and,  for  the  information  of  others,  re- 
quest to  communicate  it  through  the  British  Biblio' 
grapher. 

The  translator  of  the  Basia  was  Mr.  George  Ogle. 
The  name  exactly  corresponds  with  the  asterisks  of  his 
signat'ire,  in  that  book,  to  the  concluding  Dissertatio7i, 
which  contains  a  Critique  oti  the  Basia,  addresttoSir 
Richard  Meade,  Bart,  whose  son  John,  we  may  remark, 
was  ennobled  by  the  title  of  Clanwilliam,  in  1766.  To 
this  Mr.  Ogle,  Mr.  Sterling  dedicates  his  translation 
of  AfiiscEus,  and  stands  indebted  for  a  short  life  of  the 
Greek  poet.    (See  Censura  Literaria,  vol.  8,  page  416.) 

Mr.  Ogle,  in  1741,  published  Chaucer's  Canterbury 
TaleSy  modernised  by  several  hands,  in  3  vol.  8vo. 
yrhereiu  he  bore  a  considerable  part.     The  style  of  his 


loiter  to  a  Friend,  whom  he  terms  Dear  M ,and  who 

it  seems  practised  at  the  bar,  (See  tlie  beginning  of  vol.  3.) 
evinces  the  author  of  the  Disser/ations  on  Sec.undus. 

In  a  late  public  print  I  read  the  death  of  „the  Rev. 
William  Meade  Ogle,  in  Dublin,  who  for  many  years 
had  patronised  with  liberality  the  various  charities  of 
that  city:  I  will  presume  he  was  a  descendant  or  con- 
nection of  the  poet  George  Ogle,  and  obtained  the  name 
of  Meade  from  Sir  Richard  Meade,  Bart,  confessedly 
the  friend  of  Mr.  George  Ogle. 
I  am.  Sir, 

Your  constant  reader, 
April  mh,  1812.  '  J.  N. 

When  I  addressed  you  in  the  Censura  Literaria,  1 
made  mention  of  Mr.  Thomas  Stanlei/s  Poems,  You 
•will  perhaps  like  to  be  informed ,  that  some  of  the  im- 
pressions were  taken  oiF  on  a  very  beautiful  fine  paper, 
and  others  on  an  inferior  kind :  copies  of  each  have 
'been  in  my  possession.  1  have  now  by  me  an  exemplar 
as  clean  and  unsullied,  as  though  it  had  never  passed 
out  of  the  bookseller's  hands. 

■     I  -'\  "^  '  '  — 

TO  CORRESPONDENTS. 

The  resetved  communications  of  C.  sliall  have  a 
place  in  our  next,  as  well  as  those  of  our  valuable  friend 
P.  B.  .  Want  of  room  could  alone  induce  us  to  deby  the 
insertion  of  articles,  so  highly  regarded. 

R.  P.  G.  whose  contributions  on  various  accounts 
will  alwaysbe  truly  acceptable,  will  have  an  early  place 
in  our  next. 

J.  F.  of  Bristol,  has  our  thanks,  and  will  receive  due 
attention. 

E.  R.  M.  is  mistaken.  A  tract  being  "  fox*d  and 
cropt,  with  a  half  destroy'd  title"  does  not  show  it  to 
be  either  scarce  or  valuable.  The  one  described  was 
printed  during  the  interregnum,  and  we  decline  an  in- 
sertion, not  being  on  a  literary  subject. 

%*  The  Roxburghe  sale  not  being  yet  concluded  we 
ttlefer  some  observations  which  the  extraordinary  events 
attending  the  dispersion  of  that  collection  naturally  ex- 
cite, until  the  next  number,  which  will  also  contain  the 
title,  preface  and  index  to  our  second  volume  : — It  wiH 
be  published  on  the  first  of  September. 


38ritts|)  3Stbliograpl)ec. 


N^   XIII. 


0utl)or  of  C^tbp  dCtai^e* 

Ilearne,  who  first  published  the  original  ballad  of 
Chevy  Chase  commencing 

*'  The  Parse  owt  off  Northombarlande," 

in  his  notes  upon  GuUelmus  Neubrigensis,  attributes  its 
composition  to  Richard  Sheale,  whom  he  affirms  to  have 
lived  in  the  year  1588.  Bp.  Percy  and  Mr,  Ritson  both 
agree  in  supposing  this  to  have  been  the  name,  not  of 
the  author,  but  the  transcriber  only,  and  in  attributing 
to  the  poem  a  much  earlier  date.  The  following  notice 
may  perhaps  shew  that  Ilearne's  opinion  was'  riot  so 
unfounded  as  these  deservedly-eminent  critics  appre- 
hended it  to  be. 

The  MS.  from  which  Hearne  procured  his  transcript 
of  this  ballad  is  preserved  in  the  Ashmolcan  Collec- 
tion at  Oxford.  It  is  a  small  volume  in  quarto,  con- 
taining several  pieces  of  poetry  on  miscellaneous  sub- 
jects, written  for  the  most  part  in  the  same  hand. 
Among  tliose  which  are  evidently  so,  are  several  with 
the  author's  names  subscribed  in  this  or  the  like  man- 
ner, "  i^^>^/s  ^z/of/ie  J^o^w  Wulli/s^'^  *'  Quothe  William 
Case,^^  many  of  these  are,  as  well  as  the"  Chevy  Chase," 
followed  by  "  Explicelh  quothe  Ry chard  Sheale.''^ 
Immediately  after  one  which  has  this  signature,  is  a 
shorter  concluding  "  Finis,  the  Autor  unknown^  This 
evidence  appears  conclusive  as  to  "  R.  Sheale"  having 
been  the  author,  and  not  n)erely  the  transcriber,  of  the 
ballad.  The  date  of  its  production  may  be  partly  con- 
jectured by  reference  to  another  poem  (contained  in  the 

VOL.  iv.  H  MS.) 


98 

MS.)  by  the  same  writer,  of  which  the  following  are 
extracts. 

An  Epilozueofthe  Dethe  off  the  Rt/ghte  Honorable 
Mar^rete  Countes  of  Darbe  o)"^''  departyde  the  19''* 
of  J  any.  Sf  was  buri/cde  the  23*^  of  Phebruari/,  Jn 
anno  Dni  1 558,  on  rohosse  soil  God  have  in' eye.  Amen 
quolhc  Rj/charde  Sheale. 

*'  O  Latham!    Latham!  thowe  maste  lamente. 

For  thowe  haste  loste  a  llowar. 
For  Margrete  the  Countoss  of  Darbe 

In  the  yerthe  hathe  bylte  her  bowar. 
Dethe  the  messsngere  ofGode 

On  her  hathe  wroughte  his  wyll, 
Whom  all  creatures  must  nedys  obey 
\c-r;      Whethar  they  be  good  or  ylle. 
«  «  »  * 

When  thys  good  Ladye  dyd  persere 

Fro  hence  she  schiild  departe, 
*'  Farewell  my  good  Lorde  and  husbande"  saydc  she, 

"  Farewell  with  all  my  hart. 
*'  The  noble  Yerle  of  Darbe, 

**  God  keep  the  bothe  nyghte  and  day«. 
*'  On  syghte  of  the  wolde  1  myghte  see, 

*'  Or  1  went  hence  awaye. 
*'  Fache  me  the  laste  tokene  quothe  sh« 

*'  That  he  unto  me  sente, 
**  To  kys  hyte  now  or  I  departe 

*'  Illte  ys  my  wholl  intente. 

♦  *  *  * 

Nowe  ys  this  noble  Lady  dede, 

Whom  all  the  worlde  dyd  love, 
She  never  hurte  roan  woman  nor  chylde, 

I  dare  well  saye  &  prove. 

*  *  *  ♦ 

Which  Joye  that  we  may  all  unto 

God  graunt  us  of  his  grace 
When  that  we  shall  wende  hence  away 
In  Heaven  to  have  a  place. 

Amen  quothe  Rychard  Sheale. 
"We  may  fairly  therefore  assume  the  same  author  to 
have  written  his  Chevy  Chace  before  the  year  7560,  an 
antiquity  somewhat  greater  than  that  which  has  been 
attributed  to  it  by  Hearne,  who  was  probably  misled  by 
the  occurrence  of  the  date   1588,  on  one  of  the  leaves 


of  the  MS.  from  which  these  extracts  have  been  made. 
It  appears  to  me  to  be  the  date  of  their  transcription 
only.  That  comparative  rudeness,  which  induced 
Percy  and  Ilitson  to  refer  its  composition  to  an  earlier 
period  may,  perhaps,  be  equally  well  accounted  for  bj 
tile  supposition  that  its  author  wrote  in  the  north  of 
England,  where  our  language  had  retained  a  more  un- 
polished character  than  in  the  southerndistricts.  Sheale's 
Epilogue  on  the  Countess  of  Derby  does  not  appear  less 
simple  or  void  of  refinement  than  the  Chevy  Chase,  and 
his  equal  right  to  the  authorship  of  both  appears  to  me 
incontrovertible. 

C. 


The  curious  manuscript  volume  of  English  poetry, 
mentioned  in  the  preceding  article  as  containing,  together 
with  the  older  poem  of  Chevy  Chace,  several  other  pro- 
ductions of  the  author,  whose  claim  to  the  composition 
of  that  once  popular  ballad  1  there  endeavoured  to  esta- 
blish, has,  since  making  that  communication,  been 
examined  by  an  ingenious  friend  with  greater  accuracy 
than  circumstances  would,  at  that  time,  permit  me  to 
bestow  on  it.  I  am  indebted  to  him  for  directing  my  at- 
tention to  the  annexed  poem,  which,  while  it  fully  proves 
Sheale  to  have  been  a  minstrel  by  profession,  affords 
a  characteristic,  though  melancholy,  picture  of  the  de- 
graded state  to  which  that  class  of  men,  once  the  wel- 
come guests  of  the  nobility  and  the  favourites  of  royalty 
itself,were  reduced  by  the  decay  of  feudal  magnificence, 
and  the  introduction  of  a  more  refined  and  classical  stan- 
dard of  public  taste. 

I  have  already  ventured  io  attribute  the  rude  and 
barbarous  phraseology  of  Sheale  rather  to  the  influence 
of  a  provincial  dialect  and  education,  than  to  the  an- 
tiquity which  it  had  been  supposed  to  indicate. t     It 

t  Bishop  Percy  has  noticed  this  circumstance  in  the  remarks  pre- 
fixed to  his  edition  of  Chevy  Chase,  but  without  professing  to  re- 
gard it  as  capable  of  accounting  for  the  apparent  antiquity  of  the 
ballad. 

H  2  will 


1:00 

will  be  seen  by  the  present  communication  that  be  re- 
sided at  what  in  those  thnes  must  have  been  esteemed  a 
very  considerable  distance  from  the  metropolis  (114 
miles)  ;  this,  together  m  ith  the  evident  meanness  of  his 
situation  in  life,  may  perhaps  be  regarded  as  satisfac- 
torily accounting  for  the  uncouth  style  of  his  min- 
strelsy. 

Bishop  Pv?rcy  has  argued  against  Sheale's  claims,  upon 
the  supposition  that  he  wrote  about  the  year  1580, 
whereas  the  ballad  of  Chevy  Chase  was  in  existence  at 
the  time  of  the  pul)lication  of  The  Complai/nte  of  Scot- 
landey  (as  he  conjectures  in  1540).  But  the  ascribing 
so  late  a  period  as  the  former  to  any  of  Sheale's  works 
arose  from  a  mistake  of  Hearne's,  (as  I  have  already 
shewn,)  and  the  Complaynte  was  not  in  fact  composed 
till  1548.  Now  the  date  of  Sheale's  Epilogue,  as  he 
calls  it,  on  the  death  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  is  1558, 
and  we  may  not  unfairly  suppose  him  to  have  written 
Chevy  Chase  even  20  or  30  years  before  that  time. 
After  all,  it  is  possible  that  some  <'arlier  ballad  on  the 
subject  may  have  existed,  from  which  Sheale,  as  was  by 
no  means  unusual  with  the  minstrels, borrowed  his  story, 
and  even  some  passages  of  his  poem,  although  upon 
comparing  it  with  the  others  attributed  to  him  in  the 
Ashmole  MS.  I  cannot  but  still  retain  ray  opinion  that 
the  greater  part  of  it  is  his  own  production. 


^fjc  Cljaunt  of  ISlfctiarti  feljeale. 

O  God  \  what  a  world  ys  this  now  to  se, 
Ther  is  no  man  content  with  his  degre. 
'I  can  ciitn  in  no  company  be  nyght  nor  be  day. 
But  all  nif  n  lacke  mony,  me  thinkes  I  her  them  say. 
Whiche  things  for  to  hear  makys  myn  ears  weary, 
For  with  out  mony  men  cannot  be  myrry, 
For  wher  thei  have  no  mony  in  store. 
That's  lyme  for  the  mynstrell  to  n:ete  out  at  the  dore. 
The  day  hathe  ben  I  have  hen  myrry  and  glade. 
And  nowe  to  se  the  worlde  that  makys  me  as  sade. 
And  why  r  am  sade  I  slnll  mak  declaracion. 
As  well  as  I  can,  aftar  a  rude  facion. 
For  to  tell  youe  tlie  trewthe  nowe  I  wyli  not  lete, 
.  Be  the  occasion  of  a  Robbery  I  am  fallen  in  greate  dtif. 

Which 


i 


101 

Whiche  tiling  doth  trobble  my  hede  rery  sore,     ««(r«»  .«i=«r;,; 
Hit  hathe  grevide  me  moche,  but  shall  grive  me  no  rr.or. 
After  my  Robbery  my  memory  was  so  decayde, 
That  [  colde  neathar  syng  nore  talke,  my  wytts  wer  so  dis. 

mayde. 
My  audacitie  was  gone,  &  all  my  myrry,tawk, 
Ther  ys  sum  heare  have  sene  me  as  myrry  as  a  hawke, 
But  nowe  I  am  so  trublyde  with  phansis  in  my  myude, 
That  I  cannot  play  the  myrry  knave,  accordyng  to  my  kynd. 
Yet  to  tak  thought,  I  perseve,  ys  not  the  next  waye 
To  bryng  me  out  of  det,  my  creditors  to  paye. 
I  may  well  say  that  I  hade  butivell  hape, 
For  to  lose  above  threscore  pounde  at  a  clape. 
The  losse  of  my  mony  dyde  not  greve  me  so  sore, 
But  the  talke  of  the  pyple  dyd  greve  roe  moch  mor. 
Sum  sayde  I  was  not  robde,  I  was  but  a  lyeng  knave, 
Yt  was  not  possyble  for  a  mynstrell  so  much  mony  to  have. 
In  dede,  to  say  the  truthe,  thatys  ryght  well  knowene 
That  I  never  had  so  moche  mony  of  myn  owene. 
But  I  had  frendds  in  London,  whos  namys  1  can  declare, 
That  at  all  tymys  wolde  lende  me  cc  Ids.  worth  of  waje, 
And  with  sum  agayn  such  frendship  I  fuunde, 
That  thei  wold  lend  me  in  mony  a  nyn  or  tene  pownde. 
The  occasion  why  J  cam  in  dete  1  shall  make  relacion. 
My  wyff  in  dede  ys  a  sylke  woman  be  her  occupacion, 
And  lynen  cloths  most  chefly  was  here  greatyste  trayd, 
And  at  faris  and  merkytts  she  solde  sale. ware  that  she  made, 
As  shertts,  smockys,  partly tts.*  hede  clotthes,  &  othar  thtnggs, 
As  sylk  thredd,  &  fggyngs,  skirrts  bandds  and  strings, 
At  Jjychfelde  merkyte  and  Addarston,+  good  customars  she 

founde, 
And  also   in    jTamworth,    wher   I  dwell  she  took  many  a 

pounde, 
And  indede  when  I  had  gett  my  mony  togethar,  my  detts  to 

have  payd, 
This  sad  mischance  on  me  dyd  fall,  that  cannot  be  denayde, 
I  thought  to  have  payde  all  my  detts,  &  to  have  set  me  cler. 
And  then  what  yvell  dyde  ensewe,  ye  shall  herafter  bear, 
Becaus  my  carryage  shulde  be  lyght,  1  put  my  mony  y nto  goide, 
And  without  company  I  ryde  alone,  thus  was  I  folishe  bolde, 
I  thought,  be  the  reason  of  my  harpe,  no  man  wold  me  suspect. 
For  minstrels  oift  with  mony  the  be  not  moche  infecte. 

*  Neck- kerchiefs,  from  the  French  Fortelet.    Minshew. 
t  Alherston  on  theStour,  Warwickshire. 

*  On  the  borders  of  Staffordshire  and  Warwickshire. 

uij 


10^ 

iiij  theves  for  di«  theilay  in  way  t  not  far  from*Donsmore  hethe, 
Whcr  many  a  man  for  las  mony  hath  ofte  tymys  cought  hit 

detb. 
I  sknpyd  wythe  my  lyffe,  but  indede  I  lost  my  purs, 
And  seyng  yt  was  my  chance,  I  thank  god  yt  was  no  wors 
For  mony  may  be  gott<-n,  and  lyfF  cannote  be  bought. 
Yet  yf  good  counsell  hade  not  ben,  I  hade  kyld  myseUfe  with 

thought. 
Hit  grevyde  me  so,  for  yt  well  nyghe  kylde  my  hart, 
Be  caus  hit  was  my  fortune  to  play  so  folish  a  part. 
Thirys  an  old  prorerbe  had,  "  The  wyste  comis  ever  to  lat" 
Thus,  throughe  myn  owene  neclygence,  I  am  brought  to  por 

estate. 
After  this  my  robbery,  the  truth  as  I  youe  tell, 
I  took  my  hors  and  ryde  home  to  Tamworth  wher  I  dwell, 
"When  I  cam  unto  my  wyffe  my  sorrowe  dyd  incresse, 
To  se  her  mak  such  lamentaclon  I  cold  do  no  U'sse. 
I  sent  to  the  balys  of  the  towne  in  all  the  hast  I  myght, 
Desyrynge  them  to  mak  serche  who  lay  yn  the  towne  that 

nyght. 
For  the  iiij  theris  that  rohde  me  playnly  to  me  dyd  say 
That  I  had  one  my  botts  ready  to  ryde  by  nine  a  clock  that 

daye, 
And  yt  was  seven  a  clock  at  nyght  or  ever  I  cam  Ihethar. 
So  uppone  ther  sayngs  thus  moch  I  dyd  gethare, 
That  out  of  Tamworth  off  me  thei  had  some  prevye  gyde, 
Whiche  knew  of  all  my  gold  and  whiche  way  thatl  wold  ryde. 
But  heJherto,  be  no  shifte  that  ever  I  cold  make, 
I  cold  never  prove  what  thei  war  that  my  pors  from  me  dyd 

take. 
Therlor  with  my  losses  I  must  nedis  be  contente. 
For  now  yt  is  to  lat  for  me  to  repente. 
Ther  is  no  man  ly vyng,  that  in  this  world  doth  well, 
But  misfortune  on  him  may  fall,  thoughe  he  gyd  him  nerer 

so  well. 
Many  a  man  hath  ben  on  don  for  speakyng  of  a  worde, 
And  som  hath  lost  iheir  lyfe  for  the  strock  off  a  sworde, 
Som  hathe  ben  on  don  be  the  cassaltye  of  fyare, 
And  sum,  both  hors  &  man,  hath  perished  in  the  myare, 
Aud  Slim   throughe  suretisbipe  hath  brought  themselves  in 

band, 
And  sum  throughe  gammyng  hath  lost  both  howsse  &  lande. 

»  Well  known  as  the  residence  of  the  dun  cow,  said  to  have  been 
destroyed  by  Guy,  Earl  of  Warwick,    i  Knowledge  comes  too  late. 

I  am 


103 

I  am  not  the  first  that  hath  hade  a  wofull  daye,  •■^'^ '  ^v*f »' 
For  sura  be  robdc  at  the  land,  &  sum  be  robd  at  the  scaye. 
Sum  be  robde  in  ther  howsses,  in  placis  were  thei  dwell. 
And  sum  hath  been  robde  in  theryns,  as  I  have  hard  men  tell, 
Thecharaberlayneor  ostelare  when  thehave  abowpyt*spyede, 
^lay  gyve  knowleg  to  fals  knavis,  whiche  way  ther  gent  wyll 

ryde, 
And  he  himselfe  wyll  byd  at  home,  &  his  office  styll  aplye, 
Many  a  man  thus  hathe  ben  robde,  &  so  I  think  was  I. 
Sum  fals  knave  dyd  me  betray,  &  made  my  jornpy  knowene, 
Yt  wold  never  have  greyyd  me  somoch  yf  the  niony  had  beea 

my  own, 
But  nowe  I  am  in  det,  whiche  ys  a  dedly  payne, 
I  trust  to  God,  in  this  powar  state  I  shall  not  long  remean, 
I  had  frends  the'now  tyll  I  fell  in  this  thrall, 
But  now  in  my  povertye  the  be  ron  from  me  all. 
Exsept  yt  be  thos  that  be  suar  in  the  hafte, 
Whiche  in  all  my  nessessitie  thei  never  melaft. 
My  creditors,  I  thank  God,  it  ys  not  unknowen, 
Hathe  geven  me  rtsonable  days  for  to  pay  them  their  owen, 
The  whiche  causithe  me,  as  natur  doth  bynde, 
Ernestly  to  go  aboute  sum  honest  meanes  to  fynde, 
That  thei  may  be  payd,  as  reasons  ys  and  skyll, 
Conclence  compels  me  to  put  to  my  goode  wyll. 
And  I  have  noothar  mean  but  even  be  snpplycacion, 
.To  beg  hit  a  browde  among  the  congrcgacion. 
Truth  oft  tymys  among  sum  may  be  btamde, 
But,  I  am  sur  &  sartayne,  it  can  never  be  shamde. 
All  men  that  loves  truthe  owghtto  be  commendyd, 
All  thoughe  sum  wickede  persons  ther  at  be  offendyd. 
I  thank  God,  my  good  Lord+  &  Mastar  whom  I  sarve. 
In  my  greatist  povertie  from  me  dyd  never  swarre. 
But  dyd  weyt  for  me  frendly,  aftar  a  lovyng  facion, 
And  ray  Lord  Strangt  also  on  me  dyde  tak  compassion. 
For  who's  sakys,  I  thank  God,  1  have  bt^n  well  regardyde, 
And  among  ther  lovyiig  frendds  I  have  ben  well  rewardyd, 
Ther  goodness  showyde  to  me  I  cannot  worthely  prayse, 
But  I  am  det  bowndtn  to  pray  for  them  all  my  lyff  dayes. 

*  Is  usually  interpreted  large  or  bulky.  Its  sense  in  this  line  is 
not  apparent. 

t  Probably  Edward,  Earl  of  Derby,  who  died  in  1574,  celebrated 
for  his  bounty  and  hospitality,  and  the  husband  of  Margaret  the 
Countess.    See  p.  98.  t  Eldest  son  of  Lord  Derby. 

T^« 


104 

Throughe  ther  goodness,  yfFthe  worlde  mend,  I  am  in  no 

Uispar 
But  I  shall  pay  all  my  detts  and  set  my  selffe  clear. 
The  occasion  of  thes  wars*  bathhindred  me  very  sor, 
But  yet  sum  thing  I  have  gotten,  Sc  I  trust  to  get  mor. 
My  lovyng  neabors  off  the  towne  of  Tamworth,  wher  I  dwell, 
Dyd  lyberally  rewarde  me,  this  ys  trewe  that  I  youe  tell. 
Whiche  kyndnos  of  thers  hath  ryght  well  provyde 
That  among  all  my  neabors  I  am  well  belovyde. 
For  liberally  with  me  their  mony  thei  dyd  spende, 
And  thos  that  came  not  themsels  ther  mony  thei  dyd  sende. 
My  neabors  dyd  caus  me  to  mak  a  pot  of  ale, 
And,  I  thank  God  of  his  goodnes,  I  had  very  good  sale. 
For  a  busshell  of  malt  1  do  pul.  you  out  off  dowte, 
I  had  fyve  pound  of  mony  or  nygh  ther  a  bowle. 
How  be  hit  sum  of  my  neabors  ther  at  wear  olfendyde, 
And  sayd  (he  mony  myght  moch  better  have  ben  spendyde. 
But  thei  that  so  sayd  themselvis  wear  at  no  coste, 
For  yf  thei  had  I  perseve  thei  wold  have  thought  hit  lostc. 
But  the  worlde  nowe  a  days  ys  so  full  of  hat  &  spyte, 
That  to  speak  yle  off  all  things  sum  have  a  great  delyte. 
But  God,  I  do  thank  him  of  his  goodnes  and  grace, 
That  sendds  me  good  loock  wer  I  cum  in  every  place. 
Yt  ys  God  that  senddes  me  so  well  for  to  spede, 
"Whiche  putts   ynto   good  mens  rnyndds  to  help  me  at  my 

nede. 
Whom  God  wold  have  holpen,  he  shall  never  waunt, 
But  he  shall  fynde  relyff,  (hough  things  be  never  so  skante. 
God  save  my  good  Lord,  for  whos  sayk  I  fynd  frendds, 
That  helpps  me  every  whar,  and  thus  my  talk  ends, 
Desyryng  youe  all  to  bear  this  ta^le  in  mynde, 
That  I  amongyour  pursis  nowe  sum  frendshipe  may  fynd. 
Every  man  a  lyttell  wold  salisfye  my  nede. 
To  helpe  a  poor  man  out  of  dett  it  ys  a  gracious  dede. 
Expliceth  quoth  Rychard  Sheale. 


Here  may  be  added  from  the  same  collection  anothe 
and  shorter  piece  of  doirgrel  by  Sheale,  his  customary 
speech  or  song  of  thanks  for  such  entertainment  as  he 
met  with  from  his  hospitable,  though  perhaps  tasteless, 
neighbours.     It  may  be  contrasted  with  the  exquisite 

*  Probably  the  Scottish  wars. 

farewell 


farewell  of  the  minstrel,  coramencinf^  *'Now  B'nes, 
Buirdes^  holde  and  bh/the,"  published  by  Rilson  from 
the  Vernon  MS.  {Ancient  Songs,  p.  44.)  A  more  complete 
exemplification  of  the  fallen  state  of  minstrelsy  in  its 
latter  days  could  hardly  perhaps  be  found. 

'E|)e  ifacetodl  of  tlje  9^in&m\  b^  Eic^acti  ^Ijeale* 

Now  for  the  good  chear  that  Y  have  had  heare, 

I  gyve  you  ha'rtte  thanks,  with  bowyng  oif  my  shankes, 

Dosyryiig  you  be  petycyon  to  graunte  me  suche  commission,   . 

Becaus  my  name  ys  Sheale,  that  bothe  hy  meate  &  meale 

To  you  I  maye  resorte,  sum  tyme  to  mye  cuniforte. 

For  I  perseive  here  at  alltymis  is  good  chere. 

Both  ale  wyne  &  beere  as  hit  dothe  nowe  apere. 

I  perse ve  wythoute  fable  ye  kepe  a  good  table,  ,. 

Sum  tyme  I  w>  11  be  your  geste,  or  els  I  were  a  beaste, 

Knowyijge  off  your  mynde,  yff  I  wolde  not  bf  so  kynde, 

Suratyme  to  tast  youre  cuppe,  &  wyth  you  dyne  &  suppe. 

I  can  be  contente,  yf  hit  be  oute  of  Lcnte, 

A  peace  of  byffe  to  take  mye  honger  to  aslake. 

Bothe  mutton  &  veile  ys  goode  for  Kycharde  Sheale. 

Thogge  I  loke  so  grave,  1  were  a  veri  knave, 

Yf  I  wolde  thynke  skorne  ethar  even  or  morne, 

Beyng  in  hongar,  of  fresshe  samon  or  konger. 

1  desyre  youe  alwaye,  marke  what  I  do  saye, 

Althogge  I  be  a  Ranger,  to  tayk  me  as  no  Stranger. 

I  am  a  yonge  begynner,  &  when  I  tayk  a  dynn«'r, 

I  can  fynde  yn  my  hart  wyth  n)y  frende  to  tjyk  a  part 

Of  such  as  God  shal  sende,  &thus  I  maykan  ende  ; 

Nowfarewel,  goode  myifoste,  I  thanke  youe  for  yowrecostcj 

Uutyll  another  tyme^  &  thus  do  I  ende  my  ryme. 

R.  SUEALE. 

C. 


Apollonius  Tyeius—  Lear — B.  Glaaville^ 
Lord  Morley. 

In  the  Notes  of  Mr.  Douce*  upon  Pericles,  he  ques- 
tions with  his  usual  acuteness  the  authority  upon  which 
the  Bodleian  manuscript  of  the  romantic  story  of 
"  Apollonius  Tyrius"  (No.  1302  Cat.  MSS.  Ang.)  is 

*  Illustrations  of  Shakspeare,  8vo.  1807,  vol.  2,  p.  141. 


affirmed  in  the  catalogue  to  be  a  translation  from  the 
Greek.  An  accurate  inspection  of  this  MS.  has  con- 
firmed the  suspicion  of  Mr.  D.  It  is  in  perfect  preser- 
vation, and  neither  at  the  commencement  or  conclusion 
^  has  any  notice  to  this  effect.  It  is  probable  that  the 
occurrence  of  Greek  names  in  it  induced  the  compiler 
of  the  catalogue  to  suppose  it  a  translation  from  that 
lanoruao^e. 


In  his  notes  upon  King  Lear*  Mr.  D.  has  given  from 
a  manuscript  copy  of  the  English  Gesta  Nonianorum,  a 
story  exactly  corresponding  with  that  of  JLear,  except- 
ing in  the  substitution  of  Roman  for  British  names,  and 
a  consequent  change  of  places.  In  an  Englisli  MS. 
apparently  of  the  fifteenth  century  now  before  me,  en- 
titled by  the  transcriber  "  de  Gestis  Rowanorum  8f 
Vitis  Palrum^''  the  story  is  given  at  somewliat  greater 
length,  with  the  original  names,  and  in  nearly  the  same 
language  in  which  it  is  told  in  the  Frucius  Temporum^ 
fend  the  English  MS.  oithe  Brute  from  which  that  work 
was  probably  derived. 

It  may  not  perhaps  be  generally  known  that  Bar- 
iholomew  Glanvil/e  (from  whose  book  de  Proprietatibus 
Herum^  as  edited  and  enlarged  by  Batman,  Mr.  D. 
shews  Shakespeare  to  have  derived  much  information 
on  subjects  of  natural  history)  is  himself  indebted  for 
the  greater  part  of  his  compilation  io  the  Speculum 
Naturale  of  Vincent  of  Beauvais,  one  of  the  most 
voluminous  and  well  informed  writers  of  the  ISlh  cen- 
tury, whose  Speculum  Historiale  is,  from  its  subject 
probably,  the  best  known  in  our  own  days,  of  his  various 
productions. 

The  Ashmolean  MS.  (No.  48.)  on  the  authority  of 
which  Chevy  Chase  is  attributed  to  Richard  Sheale,  is 
that  which  contains  the  ballad  of  The  Murder  of  the  two 
Brothers  Lewis  Sf  Ednnind  West  hy  the  Sons  of  the 
Lord  Darsy,  printed,  w  ilh  the  orthography  modernized, 
in  the  4th  volume  ot  Evanses  Collection.  In  turning 
pver  its  leaves   I   have  discovered  two   short    poems 

*  llluitrations  of  Shakspeare,  &vq,  1807.  j{) 


7m- 

attributed  to  an  author  whose  works  had  escaped  the 
search  even  of  the  industrious  Ritson,  *Henry  Lord 
Morfei/.  They  have  however  so  little  of  poetical  merit 
that  1  transmit  only  the  first  of  them.t  Its  chief  value 
I  fear  will  be  found  to  be  its  antiquity  and  the  rank  of 
its  author,  and,  it  may  fairly  be  added,  the  moral  beauty 
of  the  sentiment. 

Henry  Lorde  Morlei)  to  hijs  Posteritye. 
Never  was  1  lesse  alone  than  being  alone, 
Here  in  this  chamber  evill  thought  had  I  none, 
But  always  I  thought  to  bryng  the  mynd  to  rest, 
And  y'  thought  off  all  thoughts  I  juge  it  the  beste. 
Ffor  yf  my  coffers  hade  ben  full  of  perle  &  golde, 
And  Fortune  hade  favorde  me  then  as  y'  I  wolde, 
Tiie  mynde  out  of  qnyat,  so  sage  Seneksethe, 
It  hade  ben  no  felicitie,  but  a  paynfull  dethe. 
Love  then  whoo  love  wyll  to  stand  in  hyge  degre, 
I  blame  hym  not  a  whytte,  so  y'  he  followe  me  ; 
And  take  hys  losse  as  quietly  as  when  y'  he  doth  wynne, 
Then  Fortune  hath  no  maistre  of  that  state  he  ys  in. 
But  rulys  &  ys  not  rulyde,  &  takes  the  better  part. 
O,  that  man  is  blessyd,  y'  lerns  this  gentle  arte. 
Thys  was  my  felicitie,  my  pastyrae,  &  my  game. 
I  wisshe  all  ray  posteritie  they  wolde  ensevv  the  same. 
Written  over  a  Chambar  Dore  where  he  was  wont  to  ly« 
tt  Hollenbyrry. 

C. 

.-:,  '  ■       ,  "." '■■■    ......"  ■«' 

1Bartl)olomeu0  Oe  ^coprietatibii0  l^erum. 

MS.  folio — *  thise  translariovnes  I  endede  at  Berke- 
leyt  the  sixte  day  of  ffeuerer  the  zere  of  oure  lorde  a 
thousande  thre  hundred  foure  score  and  eizletene  the 
zeere  of  kyng  Richorde  the  secounde  after  the  con* 
queste  of  tingelonde  two  and  twenty,  the  zere  of  my 
lordes  age  Sire  Thoms  lord  of  Berkeley  that  made  me 
make  this  translacionn  seueneandfourty.^ 

This  is  a  large  and   very  beautifully  written   and 

*  Bibliographia  Poet.  p.  291.  But  see  Wal pole's  Royal  and 
Noble  Autliorsy  by  Park,  i.  313,  where  a  poetical  epitaph  "on  Sir 
Thomas  West,  baron  of  Grisley,  lord  Lawarre,  and  K.  G.**  has 
been  reprinted  from  the  Accedence  of  Armorie,  4to.  1597. 

t  the  other  will  be  found  in  the  new  edition  of  Wood's  Athena 
Ojeom,  vol.  1,  col.  117. 

a  illuminated 


108 

illuminated  MS.  on  vellum,  apparently  of  a  nearljr 
coeval  date  with  its  author,  belonging  to  Mr.  Elliston, 
of  Stralford  Place. 

Of  Bartholomew  Glanville,  *  the  Pliny  of  his  time,* 
and  of  the  various  editions  of  this  work,  some  notice  will 
be  found  in  Douce's  IllustralionSy  vol.  2,  p.  278,  and 
Dibdin's  Life  of  Caxtorij  p.  91. 

A  fly-leaf  of  the  volume  introduces  us  to  the  following 
lines. 

'  On  the  famouse  Bartholomew  Glanvill  commonly  called 
the  English  Bartholomew,  relating  to  his  Booke  of  the  pro- 
perties of  things. 

Thy  Country  truly,  but  yet  subtly  too 
Hath  stiled  thee  the  English  Barthol'mew, 
Whilst  properties  of  things  thou  wrot'stof,  shee 
Makes  sure  of  getting  property  in  thee  ; 
Would  from  thy  name  her  own  new  worth  discover 
And  be  at  once  unto  all  learning  mother, 
But  had  shee  silent  been,  thy  Booke  alone 
Had  seated  thee  in  a  far  larger  throne.' 
This  but  consulted,  none  could  call  thee  lesse 
Then  Barthol'mew  of  the  great  Vnivers. 
By  both  these  titles,  be  thou  euer  known, 
One  for  our  glory,  t'other  for  thy  own. — 
Sir  subito  allusit  Julius  Glanvill 
de  Lincolns  Inne  Echcmythus  Anno  asrae  christianae  1668. 

For  the  poetry  and  versification  of  this  tribute  little 
can  be  said,  but  as  a  production  of  a  namesake,  it  ap- 
pears worth  transcription. 

''"  Trevisa,  the  chaplain  of  Lord  Berkeley,  may  be  con- 
sidered as  one  of  the  earliest  writers  who  composed  in 
his  native  tongue,  and  his  various  works  would  seem  to 
merit  more  notice  from  philologists  than  they  have 
received.  The  study  of  the  ancient  Metrical  Romances 
might  meet  with  very  considerable  illustration  from  an 
examination  of  the  present  work,  though  it  does  not 
occur  to  my  recollection  that  any  use  has  been  made  of 
it  either  by  Ritson,  or  in  the  collection  latdy  edited  by 
Mr.  Weber. 

It  is  divided  into  19  books,  containing,  in  the  whole 
1189  chapters. 

Is  it  not  strange  and  unaccountable  that  Ritson  should 

have 


109 

have  neglected  to  chronicle  the  name  of  Trevisa  in  his 
Bibliographia  Potica}  and  the  omission  is  the  more 
singular  as  that  industrious  and  indefatinjable  antiquary 
must  have  examined  the  pa^es  of  the  Polychronicon,  in 
which  the  occurrence  of  several  hundred  lines  entitle  the 
*  vicar  ofberkeleye'  to  a  niche  in  the  temple  of  our  early 
poets.  A  prologue  of  24  lines  also  opens  the  present 
work.* 

1  will  just  take  this  opportunity  of  mentioning,  that  a 
friend  is  engaged  in  preparing  for  the  press,  the  poetical 
works  of  John  Trevisa,  with  illustrations,  of  which  a 
few  copies  only  will  be  printed  for  private  distribution. + 

Bristol.  J.  F. 

*  The  omission  by  Ritson  was  known,  and  an  article  has  been 
supplied  in  a  copy  preparing  for  a  corrected  edition  of  the  Bib. 
Poetka,  The  suggestions  and  information  of  any  reader  on  this 
subject  will  be  esteemed  a  favour,  and  may  be  addressed  to  the 
editor  of  the  Brit.  Bibliographer, 

J.H. 

t  John  Trevisa  born  at  Caradock    in  Cornwall,  was  canon  of 
Westbury  in  Wiltshire,  vicar  of  Berkley,  and  successively  (I  sup- 
pose) chaplain  to  Thomas  Lord  Berkeley,  who  died  27  Oct.  1361, 
his  son  Maurice,  who  died  I3t)7,  and  also  bis  grandson  Thomas, 
who  died  13  July,  1416.     Upon  this  point  there  is  some  confusion 
in  the  dates  when  compared  with  Collins,  which  may  obtain  cor- 
rection by  the  notice.     The  Polychronicon,  printed  by  De  Worde 
1495,  as  folio  cccxvi  says,"  This  translacyon  is  ended  on  a  Thurs- 
daye  the  eyghtenth  daye  of  Apryll,  the  ycre  of  our  lord  a  thou- 
sande  thre  hundred  fyfty  and  seuen,  the  one  and  thyrty  yere  of 
kynge  Edwarde  the  Thyrde  aftrr  the  conqueste  of  Englonde  ;   the 
yere  of  my  lordes  aege  Syre  Thomas  lorde  of  Barkley  that  made 
me  make  this  translacyon  fyue  and  thirty."    Now  if  we  presume 
Trevisa,  as  domestic  chaplain,  correct   in  his  knowledge  of  the 
age  of  his  patron,  the  authority  of  Collins,  in   The  Peerage  of 
England,  must  be  erroneous,  which  describes  him  serving  in  the 
army  as  early  as  1316.  However  the  accumulated  authorities  there 
given  must  not  be  too  hastily  rejected.     [See  Brydges's  new  edition 
of  Collins'  Peerage,  vol.  iii.  art.  Berkelei/.^    The  error  may  exist  in 
the  above  passage  although  hitherto  unnoticed,  and  that,  notwith- 
standing it  is  the  same  in  the  original  edition  oi'ihe  Polychronicon 
byCaxton,  we  shotild  read  "  fyue  and  syxty."    This  conjecture  is 
supported  by  Eva,  the  mother  of  the  first  named  Thomas,  having 
died  3  Dec.  1314,  and  the  father  being  described  by  Atkyns  in  the 
Histort)  qf'GloucAo  have  had  a  son  when  only  li  years  of  age. — One 
point  is  clear  from  comparing'the  dates  with  those  of  the  above  MS. 
that  the  Thomas  Lord  Berkeley,  who  made  our  author  translate 
the  Bartholomeus,  was  not,  as  generally  supposed,  his  original 
patron.    Trevisa  must  have  been  aged  at  the  time  of  his  death, 

which 


110 

1  The  Crony cles  of  Englondc  with  the  dedes  of  popes 
andemperours,  and  also  the  descripcj/on  of  Englonde. 

The  rest  of  the  title-page  is  filled  with  a  wood-cut  of 
the  royal  arms,  viz.  France  and  England  quarterly  — 
underneath,  the  supporters  ;  on  each  side  of  the  shield, 
the  portcullis :  over  the  crown,  a  rose  betweeu  two 
anffels. 

At  the  back  the  same,  except  that  the  scroll  round  the 
rose  has  this  inscription  : 

*'  Hec  rosa  virtutis  de  celo  missa  sereno 
Eternu  florens  regia  sceptra  feret." 

Then  follows  Tabula  on  sign.  Aa  ii. 

*'  1  Here  begynneth  a  shorte  and  a  breue  Table,  for  to 
fynde  lyghtiy  wherof  ouy  man  shall  please  by  to  rede  ia  this 
boke." 

The  prologue  (for  which  see  Bibliographer,  vol.  2,  p. 
3.5,  in  an  account  of  Julyan  Notary's  edition)  is  sig- 
natured a  i. 

Then  on  folio  ii.  Pars  Prima. 
*'  f  Hie  iDcipit  fructus  temporum." 

Pars  Secunda,  fol.  ix.  rev. 
*'  f  Here  begynneth  the  second  parte  &  of  the  kyngdotne 
of  Brytayne." 

Pars  Tertia,  fol.  xviii.  rev. 
**  f  Here  beojynnf'th  the  thyrde  part,  and  cotynueth  vnto 
the  Natiuite  of  Ctiryst." 

which,  Fuller  says,  happened  ab»ut  1400. — Batman  in  his  address 
to  the  reader,  (ed.  1562)  says,  this  '*  booke  was  had  in  great  esti- 
mation among  the  learned,  as  woU  beyond  the  sea  as  at  home, 
vntill  within  60  yeares  past,  [when]  there  sprang  vp  famous  and 
worthy  persons  of  singular  perseuerance  and  learning,  which 
from  the  course  of  auncient  beginnings,  set  tborth  the  same  that 
was  formally  written  of,  with  additions."  He  names  th(;  writers 
and  observes,  "  I  haue  therefore  as  an  imitator  of  the  learned  for 
the  good  will  I  bare  to  my  countrie  collected  forth  of  these  afore- 
said authors,  the  like  deuises,  which  they  in  times  past  gathered 
of  their  elders." — It  is  perhaps  needless  to  add  that  the  work  of 
Bartholomeus  forms  an  extraordinary  storehouse  of  valuable  in- 
formation and  entertainment,  and,  although  scarce,  is  one  of  the 
articles  to  be  earliest  obtained,  by  those  whose  research  may 
tend  to  the  acquiring  some  knowledge  of  Ancient  English  literal- 
lure. 

J.H. 
Pars 


Ill 

Pars  Quarta  fol.  xxvii.  rev. 

"  t  Herebegynneth  y'  fourth  parte,  &  contynueth  vnto  j* 
•omynge  of  y' Saxons." 

Pars  Quinta  fol.  xlL  rev. 

<*  f  Here  begynneth  the  .v.  parte,  &  contynueth  Tato  th« 
corny nge  of  the  Danes." 

Pars  Sexta  fol.  Ixv. 

<'  f  Here  begynneth  the  ,vi.  parte,  &  cotynueth  Tnto  j* 
comynge  of  y'  Normans." 

Pars  Septima  fol.  Ixxv.  rev. 

"  5  Here  begynneth  the  .vii.  parte,  &  contynneth  vnto  our 
dayes,  that  is  to  saye  vnto  kyng  Edwardes  regne  the  fourth 
the  xxiii.  ye  re.'' 

Ends  at  fol.  clxiii. 

"  Thus  endeth  the  Cronycles  of  Englonde  with  the  fruyte 
of  tymes  compyled  in  a  boke.  And  was  fyrst  iraprynted*  by 
one  somtyme  scole  mayster  of  saynt  Albons,  on  whose  soule 
god  haue  mercy  Amen.  And  now  lately  imprynted  at  Lon- 
don, and  dilygently  amended  in  dyuers  places  where  as  ony 
faute  was,  in  Flete  strete,  at  the  sygne  of  the  Sonne,  by 
me  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  in  the  yere  of  our  lorde  god. 
M.CCCCC.xxviii.  the  ix  daye  of  Apryll." 

On  the  back  the  device  marked  No.  vii.  in  Dibdin, 
ii.  30,  with  an  additional  rich  outer  border. 

Then  comes 

"  The  Descripcyon  of  Englonde. 

"  H  Here  foloweth  a  lytell  treatyse  the  whiche  treatheth  of 
tbe  descripcyon  of  this  londe,  whiche  of  olde  tyme  was  called 
Albyou,  and  after,  Brytayne,  &  now  Englonde,  and  speketh 
of  the  noblesse  and  worthynesse  of  the  same." 

Under  it  a  rude  cut  of  a  fortified  town  +  on  the  sea 
shore.    On  the  reverse, 

'*  H  It  is  so  that  in  many  &  diuers  places  the  comyn  Crony- 
cles of  Englonde  ben  had  &  also  now  late  emprynted  in  Flete 
strete  at  the  signe  of  the  Sonne.  And  for  as  moche  as  y' 
descripcyon  of  this  lonile  whiche  of  old  tyme  was  named  . 
Albion  and  after  Brytayne  |s  not  descryued  ne  comynly  had, 
ne  the  noblenes  &  worthynes  of  y*  same  is  not  knowen. 
Therfore  I  entendeto  set  in  this  boke  the  descripcyon  of  this 
»ayd  yle  of  Brytayn,  &  with  the  comodytees  of  the  same." 

*  Here  is  a  remarkable  deviation  from  the  preceding  edition  of 
1520,  which  has  only  "  &  also  impryted. 

t  Dibdin,  1,  ix.  has  given  a  fac-simile  of  this  cut,  as  an  early 
specimen  of  landscape, 

•o 


in 

.     .^Ier,e  follows  the  ,tai).le.;,it  extends  to  sign.  D.  iii.  on 
the  hack  of  whicli  it  conqjudes. 

,  *'  1  iiere  eiidfth  th?  dcscripcyon  of  Brytayne,  the  whiche 
cont^vneth  t'^n^loade,  Wales,  and  Scotlond,  ami  also  bycause 
Irlo'.ide  w  voder  the  rule  of  Euglonde,  &  of  olde  tymf  it  hath 
so  coDtyuu'd,  therfore  I  haue  s- 1  the  descripcyon  of  y*.«ame 
afJi  r  the  sayd  Brjtayti,  whiche  I  haue  taken  out  of  Policrony. 
con.  And  bvcause  it  is  necessary  unto  all  Englysshemen  to 
kno^e  }'propertees  comodytees  &  mervaylesof  them  I  VViU 
lya  (^a^tt^n  have  set  them  fyrst  in  imprynt  accordynge  to 
the  translaryon  of  'I'revisa,  whiche  at  y'  request  of  the  lorde 
Bar  keley 'radiated  y*  boke  of  Poly  crony  con  in  to  En^lysshe.*" 
'*  f  Lately  fynysshed  and  Imprynted  at  London  in  Flete 
strete  at  tlie  sygne  of  the  Sonne  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  the 
yere  of  our  lorde  god  M.CCCCC.  &  .xxviii.  the  .ix.daye  of 
Apryll." 

At  the  bottom  is  the  device  No.  vii.  already  men- 
tioned, but  wilh  a  different  outer  border. 

This  is  one  of  the  njariy  editions  of  what  is  common- 
ly called  Caxton's  Chronicles^  which  is  dated  5  June, 
1480:  which  Chronicles  were  reprinted  with  The 
Fruit  of  Times,  at  St.  Albans  in  1483,  fol.  and  hence 
sometimes  were  called  The  Book  of  St.  Albans. 

A  few  words  more  may  yet  be  necessary  in  explana- 
tion of  the  contents  of  this  work. 

It  appears,  as  has  been  already  said,  to  be  formed  of 
a  combination  of  Caxton's  CiinoiJicLE  1480,  and  The 
Fruit  ok  Times  1483.  '*  This  Chronicle,"  says 
Lewis,  in  his  Life  of  Caxton,  p.  31,  '*  being  afterwards 
reprinted  with  Fructus  Temper um,  gave  occasion  to 
the  confounding  these  two  histories,  and  calling  Tlie 
Chronicles  of  England  \  by  the  name  of  Fructus  Tem- 
porum  ox  The  J^uil  of  Times  ;  which  treats  of  Scrip- 
ture and  Foreign  history,  as  well  as  of  English.^* 

The  schoolmaster,  or  monk  of  St.  Albans,  to  whom 

*  In  the  Polychronicon  this  £5pographical  description  com- 
mences in  lib.  primus  at  cap.  xxxij.  with  Hibernia,  tlien  Scotia, 
Wallia,  and  concludes  with  Britannia  to  cap.  l.x. 

t  "  As,  saith  Caxton,  in  his  Chronicle,  which  he  calls  The  Fruit 
of  Tyme."     G  rafton,  vol.  ii. 

"  [t  is  recorded  and  found  in  the  Chronicle  of  William  Caxton, 
called  Fructus  Temporum.''  Fox's  Acts  and  Monuments,  fol.  69,  td. 
1563.     Lewis. 

, .  Sir 


113 

Sir  Henry  Channcy  has  chosen  to  give  the  name  of* 
Insomuch,  and  who  was,  prob;ibly,  an  assistant  to  Cax* 
ton  in  the  compilation  of  his  Chronicle,  reprinted  it  at 
that  place,  when  he  prefixed  thereto  a  prologue  and  his 
further  collection,  called  The  Fruit  of  Times  in 
1483.* 

In  1186  was  printed  at  the  same  place  Juliana 
BETi.vEns's  BOOK  on  Hawking,  more  especially  known 
by  the  name  of  The  iiooK.  ok  St.  Albans,  and  edited 
by  tliis  same  schoolmaster  or  n)onk,  as  is  shewn  with 
great  ingenuity  and  strong  argument  in  the  preliminary 

*  The  prefixture  made  by  this  schonlmaster,  in  addition  to  the 
prologue,  commences  the  Chronicle  with  Adam,  and  briefly  de- 
duces it,  in  about  six  !e;ives,  to  the  time  of  Siivius  viij*"  king  of 
Italy  "  fader  vnto  Brute  i<yngeof  Brytayn  now  called  Englonde," 
concluding  "  pars  prima,"  witli  the  account  "  how  the  londe  of 
englonde  was  fyrst  named  Albyon,"  which  begins"  in  the  noble 
lande  of  Sirrie,"  and  that  is  the  regular  commencemenl  of  the 
edition  printed  by  Caxton* 
An   enumeration  of  the   several  editions  of  these  chronicles, 
,  was  given  in  our  second  volume  (p.  39.)    Of  the  alteration  from 
'  time  to  time  made  in  tlie  text  not  any  notice  has  appeared  from 
our  bibliographers.    It  is  probable  tlu-y  were  made  throughout  the 
work,  as  we  infer  froni  the  following  specimen, 

"  Whan  Roderyk  was  slayne  "And  after  this  batayle  that  is 
in  this  batayle,  kynge  Westmer  aboue  sayd,  whan  Roderyk  was 
inremebrauceof hisvyctory,lete  slayne,  kyng  VVestmer  in  re- 
arere  there  beside  y'  hye  waye  membrauce  of  his  vyctory  let 
a  greate  stone  y*  whiche  stand-  an  re  there  besydes  y*  waye  » 
eth  yet  &  euer  shall.  And  he  grete  stone  on  hygh,  and  yet  it 
made  graue  in  y*  stone  letters  y^  stanrteth  and  euermore  shal 
said.  The  kyage  VVestmer  of  stande,  and  he  let  graue  in  the 
Brytayne  slewe  i  this  place  Ro-  said  stone  lettres  that  thus  sayd. 
deryk  his  enmye.  And  this  The  kyng  We»tmer  of  Brytayne 
Westmer  was  y*  fyrst  yt  buylded  slewe  in  this  place  Roderyk  his 
house  &  towne  in  Westnier-  enemy.  And  this  Wes'mer  was 
Jandc,  for  he  named  it  after  his  y'  fyrst  that  buylded  hous  and 
name.  And  wha.  Westmer  had  towne  in  Westmerlonde,  and  at 
so  done  he  dwelled  all  his  lyt'e  that  stone  begynneth  Westmer- 
in  Westmerlande,  for  he  loued  londe,  that  VVestmer  let  call 
that  coutre  aboue  all  other  ecu-  after  his  owne  name.  And  wha 
trees  &  wha  he  had  reygned  Westmer  had  so  done  he  dw«ll- 
.xx,v.  y^re  he  deyed  and  ly'eth  at  ed  all  his  lyfe  tyme  in  that 
Catleyll.  ed.  1520.    Folio  xxx.       countreof  Westmerlonde  for  he 

loued  that  countre  aboue  all 
other  countrees.  And  whan  be 
hud  regned  .xxv.  yere  he  dyed, 
and  lyeth  at  Karleyll.  ed.  1528. 
•VOL.  lY.  I        '  dissertation 


dissertation,  by  Mr.  Haslewood,  in  his  late  truly  curious 
and  bcnutit'ul  reprint  of  this  work,  from  Wynkyn  de 
Worde's  edition  of  1496.  Mr.  Haslcwood  observes, 
that  the  name  of  J/isomuck  lias  j)robably  no  other  foun- 
dation, than  the  occurrence  of  this  word  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Prooemiumof  both  the  above  works, 
The  Fruit  of  Times  and  The  Book  of  St.  Albans. 


pomx^  hrt  ^iv  IKicljarD  ^^aitlanli* 

Sir  R.  Maitland  was  a  lawyer  and  statesman,  who  in 
his  old  age  amused  himself  by  writing  very  bad  verses. 
His  character,  however,  was  held  in  veneration  by  his 
contemporaries;  and  his  attachment  to  literature  was 
the  means  of  preserving  many  valuable  poems  of  other 
writers.  The  following  are  omittedi  n  Mr.  Pinkerton's 
excellent  edition  ;  and  are  probably  f  ow  first  published. 
Sir  II.  M.  died  aged  90  in  15S6. 

"  My  Lurdis  sen  ahstinrnce  is  tainc, 
In  the  mene  tym  (hat  concord  may  be  drest, 
Now  tyu  na  tyme  as  ye  halve  done  bygalne; 
Since  ye  may  halve  conferring  as  ye  list, 
Do  your  power  this  realme  to  put  to  rest: 
Let  never  weir  agaiiie  among  zow  rys  ; 
Than  all  the  warld  will  your  coiicording  prys. 

ThaJr  will  na  body  be  agains  this  peace, 

Bot  gif  it  be  of  men  of  weir  the  bandis, 

Quhilk  fra  all  kind  of  slaifrie  cannot  kis. 

And  that  brulkis*  otherls  men's  landis. 

For  wrangous  geir  that  cannot  kelp  thair  handis  ; 

This  sort  of  men  wald  haive  na  quyetnes, 

For  ffir  thay  want  somttthing  yat  yai  posses. 

But  at  that  sort  ye  sould  no  counsel  tak, 
That  has  na  feir  of  god  nor  conscience. 
To  use  all  thing  iinpfdiment  may  mak 
To  your  concord  and  ye  give  thame  credence. 
How  thay  proceid  thair  is  experienfce ; 
For  it  is  seid  that  some  men  sair  may  rew, 
That  in  this  land  sa  monie  captaines  grew. 

*  Enjoys. 

For 


115 

For  anie  pleass'.  of  thir  gredie  men 

This  comoune  weill  put  not  in  jeopardie ; 

At  your  conventiouue  gar  the  cuntre  ken 

That  ye  travill  to  mak  tranquillitie. 

And  that  ye  are  content  fertill  aggrie  ; 

All  folleis  past  to  be  forgot  for  evir : 

I  trow  ye  ken  bot  few  that  falted  neyir. 

Great  is  the  skaith  that  comes  of  this  weir,* 

Of  slauchter,  heirshipe,  oppressioune,  mizcheife  ; 

It  is  pitie  the  comonis  for  to  heir 

How  thay  are  drest  with  thift  &  oppine  reif, 

Syn  seis  nane  appeirance  of  releife  : 

Thir  cruell  crymesyai  feir  unpunishitb^^ 

Sa  langas  lestis  this  Jnamitie. 

Yet  of  all  weir  peace  is  the  final  end 
Thalrfoir  aygrie  my  lordis  or  it  be  war  ;f 
Thair  is  nathing  bot  peace  that  may  this  mend  : 
And  that  ye  wald  this  comoune  weill  prefer 
To  all  causes  that  ar  particular, 
And  far  na  prirate  proffect  that  may  be, 
Stop  not  to  mak  ane  perfyt  unitie. 

The  qlk  to  do  J  pray  the  loving  Lord, 
To  give  you  grace  in  sic  abundance  now, 
That  never  mair  be  distanse  or  discord  ; — 
And  sic  Justice  be  done  this  kinrik  throw. 
The  quhilk  may  gar  the  rasch  bins]:  keip  the  cow. 
And  everie  man  bruik  his  awin  landis  &  geir; 
All  trew  leigis  to  lieve  withoutten  feir. 

Finis  q^"  S'  R.  M." 

"  The  Lord  that  raisit  lyfe  againe, 

that  deit  for  us  on  guide  fryday, 

qlk  sufferit  meikill  woe  and  paine 

with  Jewis  that  we  hard  of  say, 

M'er  he  amang  us  now  this  day, 

he  wald  far  mair  thoin§  and  susteine, 

for  now  as  J  heir  all  men  say, 

is  the  warst  warld  that  evir  was  sein. 

Ane  heroidlj  rang  into  theis  yeiris 

ane  murtherar  of  Jnocentis  ; 

but  now  be  has  anethowsand  freiris  ; 

•  War.  t  Worse.  I  Bands,  or  ropes  made  of  rushes. 

§  Suffer.  I!  Herod. 

X  2  fof 


116 

for  trewlle,  in  thair  intentis, 
to  rug  and  rt^if,  and  tak  np  rentis, 
the  puire  pcplll  oppressand  cleine. 
forthoqik  thing  some  sair  repentis, 
ill  this  warst  waild  (hat  evir  was  seiu. 

That  tynip  thair  was  hot  aii«  pilat ; 
now  is  thair  mae  than  tiflio  s(ore  ; 
•with  as  fair  wordis  of  dissait, 
as  hard*  the  other  of  befoir 
sa  fast  into  this  warld  they  soir,* 
to  trew  men  dois  nicikill  teine;  + 
their  traist  ay  kythes^:  moir  &  moir ; 
as  in  this  warld  il  is  now  sein. 

That  tyme  thair  was  hot  an**  caiphace 
that  did  accuise  our  Lord  Jesue  j 
but  now  is  monio  mae  alace 
the  Inocenfis  for  to  persew  : 
thair  is  bakbytteris  now  anew, 
bot  of  guide  men  over  quhew  I  wein, 
that  will  &  can  give  counsall  trew  ; 
as  in  this  warld  it  may  be  sein. 

The  tormenturis  war  than  sa  skant, 

crystfor  to  scourge  skerce  found  were  sax  ; 

now  of  ane  thousand  not  ane  dois  want, 

thair  wicked  number  so  dois  wax  ; 

to  spoulzie§  puire  men  of  thair  pakis, 

to  reif  can  na  man  theme  refraine 

quhill  that  thay  gar  ane  wuddie||  rax 

in  this  warst  warld  that  evir  was  sein. 

Thair  was  ane  Judas  in  that  tyme, 

for  silver  did  his  master  sell ; 

bot  now  is  smitted  without  cryme^ 

ane  thowsand  mae  than  I  can  tell, 

that  dois  in  this  countrie  dwell, 

wald  sell  thair  sawillis  as  J  wein 

for  geir  unto  the  divill  of  hell ; 

in  this  warst  warld  that  erir  was  sein. 

Peter  to  Annas  hous  him  drest, 
quhatr  he  his  maister  did  deny ; 
monie  with  mouth  hes  now  confest 
thay  ar  of  crystis  company, 

•  Sic  in  MS.  t  Pain,  iiijurv.  ♦  Becomes  known. 

i  Spoil.  II  A  halter.  '    ^  Sic. 

bot 


117 

hot  and  ye  will  thair  warkis  espy, 
ye  ball  sie  tbame  befoir  your  eine 
denyand  crist  allut(?rlie 
as  be  thair  lyfis  may  be  sein. 

Pilat  let  hot  ant'  (heifp  gang; 
quhen  lie  put  Jesus  Crist  (o  deid, 
bot  now  fy ve  hundreth  thoifis  Strang, 
at  ainis  with  thair  remissioune  speid, 
and  trew  folk  can  get  na  remcid 
quhat  vvrang  th-it  evir  thay  susteine, 
quhilk  garris  monie  beg  thair  bread 
in  this  warst  warld  that  evir  was  sein. 

Fra  pilat  fand  of  deid  na  caus 
in  cryst,  he  wald  halve  lattin  him  ga  ; 
J  wald  thay  that  leidis  our  lawis 
and  o""  judges  wold  do  sa  ; 
compell  na  Jnnocent  to  pay, 
nor  thame  convict  be  subfill  mein, 
nor  in  thair  ?yes  put  not  thairfra,* 
let  na  partialitie  be  sein. 

Thairfoir  princes  and  magestratis 
and  ye  in  court  that  omce  bear, 
Chat  for  auctoritie  debaittis, 
to  hurt  the  Jnocent  tak  feir, 
for  leid  suspitione  or  for  geir. 
from  wrang  prDceiding  ay  abstein  : 
for  dreid  god,  quhen  zoiir  sinis  appeir, 
his  vengeance  gar  on  yow  be  sein. 

The  Jewis  war  to  cryst  unkind 
for  all  his  warkis  &  guidnes  ; 
his  miracles  put  fuirth  of  mynd, 
quh<^n  that  to  deid  lie  did  him  dres. 
sua  in  this  world  ali  thahkftiines 
and  all  auld  kindnes  that  hes  bein 
and  all  guide  turns  mair  &  les 
ar  clein  for  got  &  now  o'  sein. 

Apeiranthe  now  all  m»n  saves 

that  all  scotfis  ar  in  despair  ; 

think  and  can  thay  put  off  thair  dayes 

quhat  sail  cume  eftir  thay  tak  na  cair, 


•  Sic  in  MS. 

iliadvt 


118 

thocht  all  the  regioune  sould  for  fear, 
of  thair  will  nochit  want  ane  prein  ; 
qlk  will  mak  monie  biggings  bear,* 
and  one  waist  cuntre  to  be  sein. 

Qubair  is  the  zealous  men  &  wyse 
of  kirk  and  of  the  temporall  stait, 
that  in  this  realme  has  bein  oft  sysejf 
that  wald  tak  traviU  air  &  lait 
to  stenche  all  troubill  and  debaitt, 
and  ane  great  perell  could  prevein, 
and  now  the  lordis  to  gang  ongett 
the  comoune  weill  to  be  forsein.+ 

God  mak  us  quyt  of  all  blasphemeis, 
and  of  all  men  of  evinf  conditioune; 
god  mak  us  quyt  of  all  menkimeris^ 
amongis  us  of  seditioune  ; 
and  all  raisers  of  suspitioune  : 
send  us  guide  men  to  gang  betweiq 
the  lordis  to  mak  unione ; 
that  peace  may  in  this  land  be  sein. 

God  keip  the  Kingis  majestie 
and  give  him  grace  manifold, 
the  land  to  keip  in  libertie 
in  peace  and  justice  to  us  hald. 
sua  that  na  persone  young  nor  auld 
sail  onie  caus  halve  to  complein 
that  justice  now  is  coft  and  sauld, 
as  uther  tymes  has  bein  sein. 
Finis  9" 

W.  Richart  Maitland 

of  Lethingtonne  knicht." 

R.  P.  G. 


f  A  Mery  Piny  be(zi)ene  Johan  Johan  the  hushande  Tyh 
his  tC2/fe  and  Syr  Jlian  the preest.  [Col.]  Jinis, ]m- 
prynted  by  Wyllyam  Rastell  the  xn  day  of  February 
the  yere  of  our  Lord  Mccccc  and  xxxiii.  Cum  privi- 
legio.     Small  folio,  16  pages. 

The  above  is  one  of  the  six  plays  attrihiifcd  by  onr 
dramatic  biographers  to  John  Hey  wood  author  of  The 

*  Buildings  bare.  t  Sic  in  MS.  t  Men-comers. 

2  Four 


lip 

Four  P^s  contained  HI  Dodsley's  colleotion,  of  The 
Spider  and  l lie,  and  of  some  otlier  poems ;  a  sutlstkctory 
account  of  which  may  be  found  in  the  third  volume  of 
Warton's  History  of  English  Poeiry.*  No  copy  of  the 
present  drama  appears  to  exist  in  the  Garrick  collection 
at  tiie  British  Museum, t  and  if  any  of  our  modern 
editors  of  ancient  plays  were  in  possession  of  it,  they 
seem  to  liave  ren^arded  tiic  Four  P's  as  better  calculated 
for  the  illustration  of  our  early  scenic  history.  The 
*'  JSlerj/  P/a^"  however  cannot  be  considered  as  en- 
tirely devoid  of  interest;  exclusively  of  its  antiquity  and 
rarity,  it  is  valuable  as  affording  a  specimen  of  the  earliest 
and  rudest  form  of  our  comedy,  (for  the  poem  is  shorter 
and  the  number  of  the  Dramatis  Personre  yet  fewer  than 
those  of  the  Four  P^s)  and  of  the  liberty  with  which 
even  the  Roman  Catholic  authors^  of  that  age  felt  tliem- 
selves  authorised  to  treat  the  cstal)lished  priesthood. 
Johan.Johan  himself  prologises  thus, 

God  spede  you  Alaysters  everychone  ; 
Wote  ye  not  wliyther  my  wyfe  is  gone  ? 
I  pray  God  the  dyvell  take  her, 
P'or  all  (hat  F  do,  £  cannot  make  her, 
But  she  wyll  go  a  gaddynge  very  much, 
Lyke  an  Anthony  pig  with  an  olde  wyche, 
Whych  fededi  lier  aboute  hyther  &  thyther, 
But,  l)y  our  Lady,  I  wote  not  whyther. 

He  proceeds  to  affirm  "  by  our  Lady  of  Crome"  that 
he  Avill  beat  her  soundly  upon  her  return.  It  occurs 
however,  to  him  that  she  may  possibly  die  under  the 
operation,  and  he  has  no  taste  lor  hanging;  that  she 
may  not  mend  if  she  survive  his  correction ;  and  that 
his  neighbours  m;iy  chide  him  for  cruelty.  His  love 
of  authority,  however,  and  his  suspicions  that  she  is 
visiting  Syr  johan,  contirm  him  in  his  first  resolution  ; 
be  requests  the  audience  not  to  interfere  in  her  behalf, 
and  is  loudest  in  his  threats,  when  she  suddenly  returns 
with  these  words, 

Tyb. — Why?   whom  wilt  thou  beato,  I  say,  thou  knavie  ? 
Jhan. —  Who?   I,  Tyb  i  none,  so  God  me  save. 

*P.  87andseq. 

t  See  Beloe's  Anecdotes  of  Literature,  v.  4. 

X  Heywoud  was  a  bigoted  papist. 

Tyb. 


120 

Tyb, — Yes,  I  harde  thee  say  thou  woldest  one  bete. 
Jhan. — Mary,  wyfe,  it  was  stokfysshe  in  Temmes  strete, 

Whiche  wyll  be  good  meate  agaynst  lente. 

Why,  Tyb,  what  haddest  thou  thought  that  I  had 
ment  ? 

During  a  short  dialouge  in  which  Johan  evidently 
labours  under  considerable  fear,  she  coiriplairis  of  sick- 
ness, which  he  attributes  (aside)  to  her  compotations 
with  the  priest,  and  in  return  to  a  gentle  expostulation 
on  the  length  of  her  absence,  she  deigns,  after  sonic  hesi- 
tation, to  inform  liim  of  the  cause. 

Truely,  Johan  Johan,  we  made  a  pye, 
I,  and  my  Gossyp  Margpry, 
And  our  Gossyp  the  Freest  Syr  Johan, 
And  my  neyhbour's  yongest  daughter  Ann. 
The  Freest  payde  for  the  stuffe  &  the  makyng. 
And  Margery  she  payde  for  the  bakyng. 

Johan  expresses,  (aside)  in  no  very  gentle  terms,  his 
opinion  of  his  wifes  gossip  Mar.  and  after  some  further 
conversation,  tiie  chief  humour  of  which  lies  in  the  half 
suppressed  insinuations,  and  more  explicit  side  speeches 
of  the  unfortunate  husband,  he  is  obliged  to  go  in  per- 
son, and  invite  the  priest  to  partake  of  the  pye  which 
Tyb  had  brought  liome  under  her  cloke.     As  he  is  set- 
ting out  on  this  untoward  errand,  she  calls  him  back 
several  times,  in  the  wantonness  of  her  authority,  first  to 
set  the  table  upon  its  trcssels,  then  to  fetch  the  stools, 
and  to  wash  out  the  cups,  to  see  if  there  he  any  ale  in 
the  pot,  and  for  various  other  trifling  offices  of  house- 
wifery ;  all  which  he  executes  with  much  concealed  dis- 
content, but  at  the  same  time  with  the   most  prompt 
submission.     At  last  he  is  allowed  to  quit  the  hoiise, 
and  knocking  at  the  priest's  door  requests  admission,  and 
delivers  his  invitation.     Syr  Johan  at  first  scruples  to 
accept  it,  as  fearing  that  Tyb  was  at  enmity  with  him 
for  reproving,  and  assigning  her  a  penance  on  the  score 
of  her  continual  brawling  and  ill  usage  of  her  husband  ; 
speaking,  however,  at  the  same  time,  much  in  praise  of 
her  virtue  and  other  good  qualities.     Johan,  easily  de- 
ceived by  this  artifice,  begins  to  repent  of  his  suspicions, 
and  presses  Sir  Johan  yet   more  earnestly  to  indulge 
tUem  with  his  society.     The  wilv  priest  after  a  short 

opposilionj 


121 

opposition,  accompanies  him  home.  Here  the  looks 
with  which  Tyb  receives  her  paramour  ao-ain  rouso 
the  suspicions  of  the  husband  :  he  lias  however  had 
scarcely  time  to  express  them,  when  lie  is  dismissed  to 
fill  the  pail  witli  clean  water,  for  the  purpose  of  washinjj 
their  hands  before  they  sit  down  to  their  meal.  His 
back  is  no  sooner  turned  than  Syr  Johan  addresses  Tyb. 

— I  wolde  ye  had  harde  the  tryfyls, 
The  togos,  the  mockes,  the  fablt  s,  Sc  the  nyfyls,* 
That  I  made  thy  hushatid  to  beU've  and  thyuke. 
I  Thou  mightest  as  well  into  the  erthe  synke. 
As  thou  conldest  forbear  laughing  any  whyle. 

The  further  account  of  Johan's  gullabilitj,  is  inter- 
rupted by  his  return  in  with  the  pail  empty,  havin<x 
discovered  a  crack  in  its  side  at  which  the  water  flowed 
out  as  fast  as  he  could  pour  it  in.  For  the  purpose  of 
mending  this,  they  give  him  a  wax  candle,  which  the 
priest  very  opportunely  happens  to  have  about  him, 
and  which,  being  somewhat  hard,  requires  softening  at 
the  fire  before  it  is  sufhciently  pliable  to  be  worked 
into  the  chink.  At  this  job  the  unhappy  man  is  kept 
during  the  whole  time  that  his  vyife  and  the  priest  are 
engaged  at  supper,  which  does  not  pass  without  much 
familiarity  between  them,  and  much  ridicule  of  poor 
Johan.  The  priest,  for  the  amusement  or  instruction  of 
Tyb,  relates  sundry  miracles,  chiefly  concerning  women 
who  had  obtained  children  by  application  to  him.  The 
pye  is  at  last  consumed  without  the  assistance  of  Johan, 
who,  having  long  eyed  it  with  all  the  solicitude  of  an 
hungr}'  stomach,  is  roused  by  his  disappointment  to  a 
degree  of  courage  with  v.hich  no  other  species  of  indig- 
nity seems  capable  of  inspiring  him.  He  openly  re- 
monstrates with  the  greedy  pair,  but  h  is  expost  u  lat  ions  a  re 
answered  only  by  fresh  insult  and  mockery.  At  lengtli 
his  patience  is  exhausted — "  Sjylh  it  is  so,  he  exclaims, 

and  syns  (hat  ye  twayne 
Wold  givemo  no  meat  for  my  sullysance, 
I'ly  Kok's  soule,  J  wyll  take  no  leiiger  payne. 
Ye  .shall  do  all  for  yourself  with  a  very  vengfaunce 

*  iVj^/j/Zs — ibis  word  appears  a  corruption  either  of  t!ie  latiu 

nihif,   ur  the    Irenth  nourc/ies.      It    evidently  signilioa   euipcy 
stories  or  fal;ehoods. 

.'  For 


12^ 

For  me,  &  take  thou  there  thy  pale  novp, 
,v     And  yf  thou  canst  mend  it  let  me  se  how. 
Tyb.  A  horson  knave,  hast  thou  brok  my  payll  ? 
j.,..^Thou  shalt  repent  by  kok's  lilly  nayli. 
Rech  me  my  distaf,  or  my  clyppynij  sherys, 
I  shall  make  the  blood  ronne  about  his  erys. 

Johan  answers  with  equal  spirit,  a  violent  alterca- 
tion ensues,  and  the  priest  taking  the  part  of  his  para- 
mour "  They  fyght  hy  the  erys  a  tchyle  and  than  the 
preest  and  the  wyfe  go  out  of  the  place. ^* 

Johan,  after  some  exultation  for  his  victory,  begins 
to  apprehend  that  (hey  may  possibly  revenge  themselves 
on  him  in  no  very  honourable  manner ;  he  resolves  there- 
fore to  follow  them,  and  the  drama  concludes  with 
these  words, 

— I  wyll  hye  me  thyder 
To  se  yf  they  do  me  any  vyiany. 
And  thus  farewell  this  noble  company. 

M.  Ash. 


f  Hippolitus^  Translated  out  of  Seneca.  By  Ed^nund 
JPresiwich.*  Together  with  diners  other  Poems  of 
the  same  Author'' s. 

Vernm  pone  moras,  et  studiitm  hicri, 
JStigrorumque  memor  dum  licet  igniuvi, 
Misce  stiillitiani  conciliis  brexern. 

London,  Printfd  by  G.  D.for  George  Boddington, 
at  the  signe  of  the  Crown  in  Chancery  lane  netre  the 
Holies,  1651.  Sm.  8vo.  pp.  139,  besides  jDet//crt^/ow, 
Address,  and  commendatory  verses. 

This  is  a  rare  little  volume,  of  which  I  am  indebted 
to  Mr.  Heber  for  the  loan.  It  is  dedicated  "  To  the 
noble  and  most  vertuous  lady  Mrs.  Anne  I^eedes." 
And  after  "  An  Address  to  the  judicious  Header,"  has 
commendatory  verses  by  ,ja.  Shirky  ;  Char.  Cotton ; 
Cromwell  Stanh op;  liic.  Rogers  ;  Edward  Williams; 

*  For  some  account  of  this  family,  see  the  late  Sir  John  Prcst* 
wich's  litspublica. 

I  and 


193 

and  Mat.  Carter.  Tlwj  HippoHtus,  including  eleven 
pages  of  Comment,  ends  at  p.  60.  The  other  poems  arc 
the  following. 

—1.  On  an  ill-favoured  woman,  become  a  young  lover. 
130  lines. 

2.  An  Ale-matcli. — 256  lines. 

3.  On  a  Talkative  and  Stammering  Fellow. — ISO 
lines. 

4.  Upon  Liicrelia. — Short. 

5.  The  Power  of  Love. — 58  lines. 

6.  ThenewNiobe. — Anode. 

7.  Gaine  in  Losse. — Lyric. 

8.  The  Perfect  Love. — Lyric. 

9.  To  a  Lady  working  a  bed  with  crewell. — Stanza. 

10.  The  Revenge. — 18  stanzas. 

11.  To  a  lady  ^refusing  to  uuvaile. — Four  feet  cou- 
plets. 

12.  On  a  lame  and  scolding  negro. — Four  feet  couplets. 

13.  An  Epithalamium. — 10  stanzas. 

14.  To  a  Gentlewoman,  that  sued  to  her  servant, 
whom  she  had  formerly  forsaken. — Eleven  stanzas. 

15.  How  to  chuse  a  Mistress. 

16.  Love  without  Hope.— 8  stanzas. 

17.  The  Dumb  Lover. — 34  stanzas. 

18.  A  Remedy  against  Love.— Reprinted   in  Ellis* s 
Specimens. 

19.  Answer  to  the  former. 

20.  To  Almanna,  why  she  should  marry  me. 

21.  The  Meteor. — Also  reprinted  by  Ellis. 

22.  An  Epithalamium. 

23.  On  a  Necklace  of  small  pomander,  given  him  by 
a  lady. 

24.  On  himself  being  lame. 

25.  The  Broken  Heart. 

26.  To  Phcebus. 

1  shall  select  one  or  two  specimens. 

NO.  7.  GAIN  IN  LOS>. 

Away,  fond  Boy,  away! 
Wiiat  tempts  the*  for  to  stay, 
Hovering  about  my  breast  ? 
Thou  canst  not  hope  to  swaV) 


124 

Whereas  disdain's  possest 
With  such  an  interest. 

And  Honour  Ml  not  allow 
That  thou  shouldst  lower  bow 

When  daily  conquests  post 
Afresh  to  crown  thy  brow ; 

And  every  shaft  almost 

A  heart  or  two  can  boast. 

Yet  if  thou  entrest  here, 
By  thine  own  power  I  swear, 

All  glory  thou  must  quit ; 
No  bow  nor  quiver  bear, 

But  unto  scorn  submit 

Thyself  an  anchorite. 

Thus  spake  Almanna,  and  Cupid  smil'd, 
To  think  how  much  she  was  beguil'd; 

Then  shot;  but  spite  of  all  his  art 
His  blow  the  little  archer  spoil'd: 
Out  flew  the  golden. headed  dart, 
But  could  not  pierce  her  armed  heart. 

Almanna  laugh'd,  and  the  God  cried, 

With  fear  of  whipping  terrified, 
And  grieved  for  her  broken  bow  ; 

No  hope  of  comfort  he  espied, 

So  that  his  tears,  which  seem'd  to  flow, 
If  not  then  blind  had  made  him  so. 

Another  such  he  would  have  bought, 
But  there  was  none,  &  if  without 

He  went,  or  this  should  broken  bring, 
Venus  would  know  :   that  very  thought 
Fresh  floods  from  the  poor  boy  did  wring. 
Lest  she  should  whip  him  with  the  string. 

But  th'  V'irgin,  not  of  marble  made, 
All  means  to  comfort  him  assay'd  ; 

And  oft  his  blubber'd  cheeks  did  dry. 
At  last  with  pity  oversway'd, 

She  promised  him  that  he  should  lie 

Among  the  babies  of  her  eye. 

There  he  thf  beams  of  these  bright  twins, 
With  which  all  hearts,  all  eyes  he  wins, 

Hath  both  for  bow  and  arrows  found; 
And  nothing  now  to  think  begins, 


Since 


Since  his  own  shafts  did  once  rebound) 
But  self-love  can  Almanna  wound. 


No.  17. 


THE  DUMB  LOVER. 


Fair  Almanna,  cruel  maid, 

Many  shepherds  had  eutlamed, 

Whose  complaints  her  sport  she  made, 
Frowning  still  when  love  was  named; 

Yet  those  frowns  did  love  persuade. 

'Mong  the  rest,  ah  hapless  youth ! 

Annaphil  did  wish  to  have  her 
Though  scant  of  wealth,  yet  in  sooth 

Passing  all  that  sought  her  favour, 
For  his  passing,  passing  truth. 

This  poor  wretch  sought  to  suppress 
With  his  tears  the  rising  fire  ; 

But  those  tears  prov'd  witnesses 
To  the  world  of  his  desire  ; 

And  his  pains  were  ne'er  the  less. 

Speak  he  durst  not ;  for  he  fear'd 
No  death  worse  than  a  denial ; 

Yet  in  his  eyes,  still  betear'd, 
A  too  miserable  trial 

Of  v^hatlove  can  do  appear'd. 

Arms  across,  unsteady  pace, 
Eyes  cast  down  as  in  subjection. 

Broken  words,  and  changed  face, 
A  most  desperate  affection 

In  the  woeful  youth  betrays.* 

Coward  Love,  oft  would  he  say. 
Who  tiiy  shafts  on  slaves  bestowest, 

Wounding  such  as  do  obey. 

But  with  rebels  meeting,  throwest 

Down  thy  arms,  and  runn'staway  ! 

Was  it  not  enough,  that  I 

Willingly  thy  yoke  took  on  me  ? 

But  I  must  that  service  buy, 

Wiiich  I  fear  hath  quite  undone  me 

With  fresh  cares,  fresh  misery  ? 


*  A  very  beautiful  stanza.    Editor. 


Was 


126 

Was  it  not  enough,  that  thou 

With  thy  proper  force  refused 
To  succour  me  ;  bat  that  now 

My  tongue,  through  thee  speech.disusedj 
Cannot  mine  own  thoughts  avow  I 

Art  thou  a  God,  who  I  see 

Thus  thy  humblest  vassals  wrongest  ? 

No  ;  thy  weaker  deity 

Either  yields  unto  her  strongest, 

Or  thy  sting  is  lost  In  rae. 

Then  his  hearty  sighs  would  show 

What  his  tongue  had  left  unspoken  ; 
And  he  beat  his  breast  to  know 

If  his  heart,  already  broken, 
Now  were  quite  consum'd,  or  no. 

And,  as  if  those  windy  sighs 

Had  in  him  a  tempest  rais'd, 
Floods  would  seem  to  drown  his  eyes, 

Because  they  too  much  had  gaz'd 
For  unsafe  discoveries. 

Once  he  in  this  wofull  plight 

Had  his  lovely  saint  espied  ; 
But  at  that  unlook'd  for  sight 

The  storm  was  laid,  the  floods  dried. 
And  his  eyes  beheld  the  light. 

How  he  then  amazed  stood  ! 

With  what  more  than  glutton.greedinesi 
He  devour'd  that  precious  food  ! 

Health  could  not  dissuade  his  neediness 
From  what  bis  sense  found  so  good ! 

His  eyes  left  physicians  rules ; 

Measure  in  such  feasts  observed 
Is  a  Usson  fit  for  fools : 

They  from  such  nice  precepts  swerved, 
Train'd  in  Love  and  Beauty's  schools. 

Yet  his  tongue  would  fain  have  got 

So  much  leisure  from  their  wonder. 
As  might  serve  for  to  relate 

What  a  burden  he  lay  under  ; 
But  to  speak  it  knew  not  what. 

And  when  he  lM>r  heart  to  bow, 

Had  fram'd  a  speech  full  of  passions, 

Mingling 


127 

Mingling  many  a  faithfull  vowr 

With  more  humble  supplications, 
Then,  alas,  it  knew  not  how. 
Yet  his  other  parts  did  prove 

Friends  to  its  determination  j 
All  his  gestures  spoke  of  Love  ; 

All  did  seem  to  beg  compassion  ; 
E'en  his  silent  lips  did  move. 
And  in  words,  which  never  are 

Heard  but  by  the  understanding, 
Whisper'd  forth,  O  heavenly  fair, 

O  Goddess  !  all,  all. commanding, 
Deign  to  hear  a  Caitiff's  prayer. 

Long  have  I  lov'd,  loved  well ; 

Faithfull  Love  not  hate  deserveth. 
What  savage  mind  is  so  fell, 

As  his  loving  flock  he  sterveth, 
If  notsav'd  by  miracle? 

Long  have  I  serv'd  ;  service  true 
Requires  wages  for  pains-taking; 

And  though  stipends  were  not  due, 
What  Miser's  so  given  to  raking, 

As  he  would  no  favour  shew  ? 

Long  have  I  in  fetters  lain  ; 

Misery  compassion  breedeth ; 
And,  though  Pity  quite  were  slain, 

The  bloodiest  m'nd  never  feedeth 
On  such  as  count  death  a  gain. 
See  but  how  the  sun  displays 

His  beams  on  the  meanest  creatures  ; 
And  will  you  withdraw  your  rays 

From  one  who  admires  your  features, 
And  knows  no  light  but  your  face? 

See  our  fruitful  mother  earth, 

"  How  she  in  her  womb  doth  cherish 
The  seed,  till  a  happy  birth 

Makes  the  labourers  fields  to  flourish ! 
And  will  you  bring  forth  a  dearth  ? 
Mark  how  every  grateful  tree 

Yields  the  swain  a  yearly  blessing! 
And  will  you  undressed  be, 

Ere  you'll  either  pay  for  dressing  ; 
Or  accept  the  courtesy  ? 


Wiiea 


]28 

When  a  fruitful  shower  of  raio 

From  a  melting  cloud  distilletb, 
The  f  arth  drinks  it  up  again  ; 

And  it  the  earth's  wrinkles  611eth  : 
Shall  my  tears  then  fall  in  vain  i 

Breathe  you  forth  a  fervent  prayer  ; 

IJeaven  therewith  is  strait  acquainted^ 
And  you  hope  will  ease  your  care  ;  •i'^ 

Should  not  then  my  suit  be  granted. 
Since  you  so  like  to  Heaven  are  ? 
hove  the  neighbouring  elm  and  vine 

In  such  strict  embraces  tyeth  ; 
Love  doth  make  the  turtle  pine, 

When  his  loving  marrow  dyeth, 
And  haye  you  no  sense  of  mine  ? 
Lore  his  power  doth  each  where  prove ; 

Every  thing  hath  love  about  it ; 
Trees,  beasts,  birds,  and  gods  above  ; 

And  are  you  alone  without  it? 
The  most  lovely  void  of  love  ?  o* 

Change,  O  change  this  humourous  mind  ;  *'" 

Never  by  a  name  be  fooled ; 
Greater  glory  will  you  find,  'T 

(Be  by  flesh  and  blood  but  ruled)  J03 

If  you  leave  a  babe  behind.    ^.  , j  ij^}-,  - 
Were  you  now  laid  in  your  grave, 

And  this  beauteous  outsidg  rptten,. 
No  monuments  your  fame  cpuld  save  j  ,  , 

Virtue  quickly  is  forgotte^,  ,Hf 

If  the  world  no  pictures  have".  ^.^ 

Then  if  marriage  be  the  best,  » 

The  best  lover  should  be  chosen. 
Will  you  warm  a  niggard's  breast. 

Whose  desire  «ith  care  is  frozen.  jJi  i' 

And  his  mistress  in  his  cheat  ?  ♦  <»p9t  ot 

Or  shall  any  sensual  slave  ^  ^fiftwH  siofn 

Glory  in  so  rich  a  treasure  j 
One  who  covets  but  to  have 

You  to  satisfy  his  pleasure,  '  ^f' 

Which  his  lust,  not  love  doth  crave  :  ? 

Rather  take ;  a  man  would  die, 

One  who  goods  and  life  despiseth, 
Might  he  pleasure  you  thereby  : 


■J 


Tliis 


pi*Tr  tc  ■•-»  •.•(^»  J" 
(This  from  perfect  love  arlseth ;) 
Such  an  one,  though  poor,  am  l. 

Thus  within  himself  he  prayed, 
But  received  small  satisfaction ; 

For  she  heard  not  what  he  said  ; 
And  she  would  not  read  his  action  : 

So  the  wretch  is  quite  dismayed. 


5  DIVES  ET  PAUPEil.     Folio. 

Colophon.  ^^  Here  endith  a  compendiouse  treetise  dtjalogue, 
of  Dives  8f  pau^, ,  that  is  to  say,  theriche  8^  theporefructuously 
tretyng  upon  the  X  comondernentes,fynisshed  the  v.  day  ofjuyl, 
the  yere  of  our  lorddodM.CCCQ.lxxxui.  Emprentyd  by  me 
Richarde  Pynson  at  the  temple  barre,  of  London.  Deo 
gracias."  .   ,, 

230  leaves  besides  d'evten  of  contents,  one  blank 
following  them  ;  also  one  at  the  end,  oh  the  back  of 
which  is  Pinson's  Device  No.  11. 

The  first  ten  chapters  are  entitled  "  Of  Holy  Pover- 
TiE."  Tiien  follow  "  Ten  Preceptes,"  each  precept 
containing  many  chapters. 

The  contents  of  the  chapters  on  Holy  Poverty  are  as 
follow. 

*'  Richeand  pore  haue  like  cumynge  into  this  worlde  &  lyke 
outgoyng,  but  their  liuyng  in  this  worlde  is  unlike  what 
shulde  confort  a  pore  ayenst  grutchyng,  &  what  wycked- 
nesses  folowe  louers  of  richesses  the  first  chapter. 

H  Of  thre  maner  lordshippes  &  of  whiche  lordship  it  is  un- 
derstode  y' god  yaue  ma  lordship  ouir  fisshes,  briddes  & 
beestes,  .  .  .  ca.  ii. 

f  Howe  this  scripture  is  understonde.  It  is  more  blisful 
to  yeue  than  to  take.  &  howe  sume  wylful  pore  man  yeueth 
more  thanne  a  riche  couetous  man  so  stondyng  may  yeue. 

ca.  iii. 

f  That  riche  &  pore  either  is  necessarie  to  other,  &  that 
the  riche  man  nedith  more  than  the  pore.  ca.  iiii. 

1  Why  richesse  is  clepyd  a  deuylship  of  wyckednesse  & 
one  exposicion  of  this  texte.  It  is  more  easy  a  camel  to 
passe  by  a  nedlis  iye  thanne  a  riche  man  to  entre  the  king- 
dome  of  heuene.  .       •  .  .  ca.  v. 

1  Howe   men  shuld  haue  them  to  richesses   whan  god 
"VOL.  IV.  K  yeuteh 


130 


jeueth  them,  &  whanne  pod  taketli  theym  a  wey,  &  in  what 
maner  eche  man  must  forsake  al  that  he  hath,  ako  the  litte- 
rall  exposlcion  of  this  text  bifore  seide.  It  is  more  easy  a 
camel,  &c.  .  .  .  ca.  ri. 

I  Kichpmen  benat  lacked  or  blamed  in  scripture  for  they 
be  riche  but  for  their  coueMsp  &  mysuse.  No  pore  me  praised 
for  watyng  or  lackynge  of  richesses,  but  for  gode  wyl!  and 
pacyence  of  diuerse  marurs  of  pore  men.  And  how  richesse 
Is  occasion  of  synnc  more  thanne  pouert.  .  ca.  "vii. 

1[  Howe  this  tvxt  of  Salomon  is  understonde.  yeue  nat  me 
richesses  and  beggery.  .  .  ca.  viii. 

IT  Of  ii  maner  of  pfections  sufficient  &  excellent.  He  re- 
hersythe  the  x  commaundementes.  .  ca.  ix. 

II  Why  crist  enfourmed  more  the  yonge  riche  man  in  the 
prf'ceptis  of  the  secounde  table  than  of  the  firste,  and  why 
more  T  the  second  precept  of  charite  thaone  in  the  firste. 

ca.  X. 

f  Ofii  lyues  coteplatif  &  actif,  also  other  causes  of  ex- 

pssinge  the  pceptis  of  the  secoude  table  to  theyong  ma  bifore 

seid.  .  •  .  ca.  xi. 

f  Ofholypouertic. 

The  firste  chaptre. 


Diues  et  pauper  obui 
auerilt  sibi :  utrius  que 
operator  est  dfis  Pro- 
uerbi.  xxii. 

These  ben  the  wordes  of 
Salomon  this  moche  io  say  I 
Englis-sh.  The  riche  &  the  pore 
niette  to  themself,  the  lorde  is 
worcher  of  euir  either.  This 
texte  worshipfulle  Bede  ex- 
powReth  thus.  A  riche  man 
is  nat  to  be  worshipped  for 
this  cause  only  that  he  is 
riche,  ne  a  pore  man  is  to  be 
dispysed,  bicause  of  his  po- 
uertye  but  the  werk  of  god  is 
to  be  worshippyd  in  them 
bothe,  for  they  bothe  been 
made  to  the  ymage  &  to  the 
lyknesse  of  god.  And  as  it 
is  writen*     Sapiencie.  vii.  ca. 


One  maner  of  entring  into 
this  worlde,  &  a  like  maner 
ofout  wedyng  fro  this  wretch, 
id  world  is  to  alle  men  both 
riche  &  pore  :  For  bothe 
riche  &  pore  comeu  Tto  this 
worlde  nakyd  and  pore,  we- 
pyng  &  weilynge  &  bothe 
they  Mtnden  hens  nakyd  & 
pore  with  moche  peyne.  Na- 
thelesse  the  riche  &  the  pore 
in  their  lyvynges  in  this  worlde 
in  many  thinges  been  ful  vn, 
lyke.  For  the  riche  man  a- 
boiideth  in  tresoure  gold 
&  silver  «&  other  richesses* 
He  hath  honours  grete  and 
erthly  dclices.  Where  the 
pore  creature  lyneth  in  grete 
penury,  and  for  wantyng  of 
richesses  suffieth  colde  and 
hunger, 


131 


hunger,  and  is  ofte  in  dispyte. 
Pauper,     I  that   am   a  pore 
caytyf  symple  and    lytel  sat 
by,  bihoidynge  the  prosperite 
of  them  that   been  riche,  and 
the  disese  of  that  I  sulTre  and 
other  pore  men  like  unto  me 
am    many  a  tyrae   steryd  to 
grutche  and  to  be  wery  of  ray 
lyf.     But  thanne  renuen  to 
my  mynde  the  wordes  of  Sa- 
lomon before  rehersyd,  howe 
the  lorde   made  as   wele  the 
pore  as  the  riche.    Andtherto 
Job     witnessith,     that    noo 
thinge  in  erthe  is  made  with- 
outen  cause.  Job  t.     Thanne 
I  suppose  within  myself,  that 
by  the  prevy  domes  of  god 
that  be  to  me  vnknowen,  it  is 
to    me  pfitable   to  be    pore. 
For  wele  I  wote  that  god   is 
no  nygarde  of  his  giftes.   But 
as  the   apostle   sayth.    Rom. 
viii.      To   them    that     been 
chosen  of   god   alle   thinges 
worchen  to  gydie  into  gode. 
And  so  sithen  I  truste  Ihroughe 
the  godenes  of  god  to  be  oon 
of  his   chosen.      I    can   not 
deme  but  that  to  me  it  is  gode 
to  be  pore.     Moreouir  Seint 
Poule  i.  Thymoth.  vi.  writeth 
in  this  maner  They  that  wylle 
or  desire    to   be  made  riche 
fall  into  temptacion  &  into  the 
snare  of  the  deuyl   and   into 
many  desires  unprofitable  & 
noyous.   For  covetise  of  rich- 
esses  more  than  is   bihoiueful 
a  ma  for  to  haue  is  rote  of  al 
euylles.    Experience  accord-  ' 

This  is  the  first  book  of  Pynson  printed  with  a  date. 
See  Dibdin,  ii.  iO I. 

K  2  Three 


eth  with  this  sawe  of  the  apos- 
tle. 

5  For  lesynges  and  piuries 
fals   sotelties  and  gyles   and 
many     other    wyckednesses, 
been  as   comon  as  the  cart 
weye   with  suche  inordinate 
lauers    of    richesse    whiche 
synnes   brynge  theim  to  end- 
lesse  perisshinge,  but  if  they 
be  wasshen  away  before  the 
our  of  dethe,  with  greate  and 
bytter  penaunce.      It   is  aa 
olde  prouerb  He  is  wele  at 
ese  y'  hath   enough  and  can 
say  ho.  He  hath  enough  holy 
doctours   sey   to   whom    his 
temporall  godes  be  they  neuir 
soo  fewe  suffisen  to  him  and 
to  his,    to   fynde   them   that 
them  nedyth.     Wei  I  know 
that  as  Foul  saith  in  the  place 
bifore     rehersed    and     Job 
sayth  the  same,  Job  i.  Nakyd 
we  come  Ito    this  world   we 
brynge  noo  richesse  with  us, 
ne  none  shalle  we  bere  with 
us,  whanne  we  shalle  passe 
fro  this  world  as  is  also  be. 
fore  seid.     Nathelesse  whiles 
we   lyue   here    we  may   nat 
vtterly  cast  all  tempali  godes 
away,  wherfore  after  the  Tfor- 
macion  of  this  holy  ma  Poule 
in  the  same   cheptre,  haue  t 
helynge  and  symple  livelode 
I  purpose     through   godde's 
grace  to  holde  me  content  & 
ncuyr  bisy  me  to  kepe  to  gi- 
der  aboundaupce  of  worldly 
ri  chesses." 


.    152 

Three  yesLts  afterwards,  1496,  Wynkyii  de  Worde 
also  printed  this  work,  in  folio,  which  Mr,  Dibdin  con- 
siders a  re- impression  of  Pynson's,  with  only  a  variation 
of  orthography.     Ibid.  ii.  67, 


f  The  Chronicle  of  Jhon  Harding,  from  the  fyrste  he-, 
gynnynge  of  Englaride,  unto  thereigne  of  Kyng  Ed' 
ward  the  fourth  wher  he  made  an  end  of  his  Chronicle: 
And  from  that  lyme  is  added  a  continuation  of  the 
storie  in  prose  to  this  our  tyme,  nozo  first  imprinted, 
gathered  out  of  diuerse  and  sondery  outours  y*^  haue 
vsrite  of  the  affaires  of  Englande.  Londini  Ex  ojficina 
Richardi  Graftoni  Mense  Januarii.  MDXLlII. 
Cum priuilegio  ad  imprimendum  solum,     ^to. 

This  book  having  been  reprinted  in  the  present  year, 
and  admirably  edited  by  Mr.  Henry  Ellis,  it  is  unneces- 
sary to  say  more,  than  to  copy  Bishop  Nicholson's  short 
character  of  the  original. 

*'  The  next  historian  (to  Thomas  Walslngham)  was  Johx 
jflARDiNG,  a  Northern  English  man,  and  an  inveterate 
enemy  to  the  Scotish  nation,  against  whom  he  carried  arms 
in  several  expeditions.  He  collected  out  of  all  our  histories 
whatever  might  tend  to  the  proof  of  the  ancient  vassalage  of 
that  kingdom  to  the  crown  of  England ;  and  hearing  there 
was  in  Scotland  an  old  record  that  put  the  matter  beyond 
dispute,  he  went  with  great  hazard  thither  in  disguise,  and 
with  much  ado,  brought  it  away,  and  shew'd  it  to  Hen.  V. 
Hen.  VI.  Edw.  IV.  To  the  last  of  these  he  dedicated  his 
two  books  of  Chronicles  in  English  rhyme  ;  whereof  the 
curious  reader  may  have  a  taste  in  some  of  our  modern  wri- 
ters. It  appears  he  was  living  (tho'  very  old)  in  the  year 
1461.  So  that  Nicholas  Monlacute  (about  that  time  master 
of  Eton  school,  and  a  collector  of  English  History)  may  be 
reckoned  his  contemporary;  as  may  also  Royle  Albanus, 
a  Carmelite  of  London,  who  drew  up  the  genealogies  of  soma 
of  our  kings."  * 

But  see  a  more  critical  account  in  Warton's  History 
of  English  Poetry,  ii.  125, 12G,  127,and  in  Ellis's  Preface. 

*  Hi?t.  Libr.  3dedit.p.68, 

^  Grafton 


133 

Grafion  has  prefixed  a  dedication  of  three  leaves  in 
verse  to  Thomas  Howard,  Duke  of  Norfolk.  And  there 
is  added  a  continuation  of  tlie  Chronicle  in  prose  from 
Edw.  ly.  to  Hen.  VIII. 


IN  EDITED  POEM  BY  JOHN  WALLYS. 

The  following  specimen  while  it  brings  us  acquainted 
with  a  poet  of  the  J6th  century,  whose  name  and  works 
have  hitherto  escaped  the  notice  of  our  bibliographers, 
•will  also  prove  that  the  fondness  for  alliter&tive  poetry 
(occasioned,  perhaps,  by  the  popularity  of  Piers  Plow- 
man) had  not  entirely  ceased,  even  at  so  late  a  period  as 
the  year  1550  (the  earliest  which  I  think  -we  can  well 
assign  to  the  poem  in  question.) 

This  singular  composition  is  contained  in  the  same 
manuscript  (MS.  Ashmole  48,  p.  145,)  in  which  the 
works  of  Richard  Sheale,  noticed  in  ray  former  comrau*> 
nication,  are  found. 

1. 

Wanderyng  on  my  Avaye,  as  I  was  wonte  for  to  wende, 

In  a  mornyng  of  May  myrthes  gan  I  uiyng.* 
In  the  dawnynge  of  the  daye,  when  the  dewes  gandyssend, 

In  Awrora,  when  Flore  gan  spreyde  and  sprynge. 
The  dear  in  the  dales  champions  gan  chace, 

The  byrdes  sat  syngyng  thys  songe  wyth  lawdacion, 
Saying  '*  Good  order  ys  ever  in  that  place, 

*'  Wheras  honoreys  hadde  in  heyhe  estimacion.". 

% 

I  stented  of  my  steven,+  and  stode  stone  styll, 

Undernethe  the  holtys  thys  harmouie  to  heare. 
Hit  sownded  so  of  sapience  that  wytt  was  in  wylle,:|: 

In  the  woodes  by  the  waters  as  I  niggede  nee  near. 
The  honters  wyth  ther  hoHies  to  thee  hownddes  blew  base, 

Their  voices  in  the  valleys  was  cause  of  consolacyon  j 
Saying,  *'  Good  order  ys  ever  in  that  place 

"  Wheras  honor  ys  hadde  in  higge  estimacyon." 

Ik 

*  Ming,  mix  in,  participate. 

t  Stented  of  my  Steven,  stinted  of,  or  held  my  voice. 

X  Wytt  was  in  wylle,  does  the  author  mean  that  his  inclination 
coincided  with  his  judgment,  in  the  wish  to  hear  these  sounds  of 
sapience  ? 

Then 


134 

3. 

Then  buskyd  I  me  bacliwarde,  and  toniyde  to  a  tre, 

I  was  myndede  to  the  mowntaynes  w""  a  mylde  moodo. 
The  lovelyest  Ladye  in  my  syght  ther  dyd  I  see,  '^  " 

That  ever  bar  body  of  bone  and  of  bloode.  ^'"S 

I  was  ravysht  owt  of  reson  with  her  fragrant  face,  ' 

She  talked  so  tretably  with  cartas  communycacyon  j 
Saying,  '*  Good  order  ys  ever  in  that  place  -^ 

*'  Wheras  honore  ys  hade  in  higge  estimacyon." 

This  lady  is  Intelligence,  who  directs  the  poet  to  a 
castle  inhabited  by  all  the  virtues.  The  poem  (which  is 
altogether  allegorical,  and  contains  no  particular  allu- 
sions to  manners  or  customs)  ends  with  the  burden, 
"  Sayinge  good  ordare,"  &c. 

C. 


5  Lachri/mcB  Musarum ;  The  Tears  of  the  Muses  ; 
expresl  in  Elegies  written  hy  dixers  'per  sons  of  Nobility, 
and  Worthy  itpon  the  death  of  the  most  hopefuU 
Henry  Lord  Rastins^s^  onely  sonn  of  the  Mt.  Uonble. 
Ferdinando  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  Ueir-Generall  of  the 
high  born  Prince  George  Duke  of  Clarence,  Brother 
to  King  EdzDard  the  Fourth.  Collected  and  set  forth 
hyR.i 

Dignum  laude  xirum  Musa  vetat  mori.     Hor. 

London,  Printed  by  T.  N,  and  are  to  be  sold  by  John 
Holden,  at  the  blue  Anchor  in  the  Neva  Exchange, 
1650.     8x)o.* 

The  Poems  are, 
1.  By  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland.  2.  Lord  Falkland. 
S.  Sir  Aston  Cokaine.  4.  Sir  Arthur  Gorges.  5.  Ro- 
bert Millward.  6.  Thomas  Higgons.  7.  Cha.  Cotton. 
8,9.  Tho.  Pestel,  7?a/er.  JO,  11.  George  Fairiax, 
Latin  and  English.  12,  13,  22.  Francis  Standish.  14. 
Jo.  Joynes.  15.  Sam.  Bold.  IG.  J.  Cave.  17.  Phil. 
Kindar.  18.  Rob.  Hcrrick.  19.  John  Denham.  "  20. 
Andrew  Marvell.     21.  J.  Hall.     23.  J.  B.     24.  Tho. 

Bancroft.    25.  W.  Pcs(cll.     26.  Tho.  Pestell,  the  ion. 

■f  ....... 

f  The  Editor  is  Indebted  to  tfaricis  FreeUng,  Esq.  for  the  loan 
•f  Uu«work. 


135 

27.  R.  P.  Latin.  28.  John  Rosse.  29.  Alex.  Brome. 
30.  Edward  Standish.  31.  Ric.  Brome,  who  I  presume 
was  the  editor  of  the  collection. 

*'  Here  waa  the  end  of  the  book  intended  to  hare  been  ; 
and  so  was  it  printed,  before  these  following  papers  were 
■written,  or  sent  iu.'' 

32.  M.  N.  33.  "  Joannes  Harmarus,  Oxoniensis, 
^/A/<r/>Toj,  et  C.  W.  M."  34.  "  Joannes  Drjden,  Scholae 
Westm.  Alumnus."  ,75.  "  Cyrillus  Wyche,  Schol» 
Westra.  Alumnus."  Latin.  36.  "  Edw.  Campion, 
Scholae  Westm.  Alumnus."  iaim.  37.  "  Tho.  Adams, 
Scholae  Westm.  Alumnus."  Latin.  38.  *'  Radulphus 
Mountague,  Edwardi  Mountaj^ne  Baronis  de  Boughton 
filius  natu  minor,  ex  Schola  Westmonast."  Latin. 

I  shall  first  select  the  short  pieces  of  two  noble  authors. 

BY  THE  EARL  OF  WESTMORELAND. 

Is  there  a  bright  starfall'n  from  this  our  sphere. 
Yet  none  sets  out  some  newer  kalendar? 
Do  the  orbs  sleep  in  silence  ?   Is  the  scheme 
Struck  dumb  at  th'  apprehension  of  the  theme  ? 
I  shall  not  challenge  Booker  here  ?  nor  will  I 
Call  up  the  mathemat-like  dreams  of  Lilly^ 
To  search  the  reason,  siftprognosticks  out, 
How  this  so  sad  disaster  came  about ; 
Since  that  to  every  one  it  is  well-known, 
The  best  and  precious  things  are  soonest  gone. 
Such  grief  by  th'  cause  is  heighten'd  to  excess  j 
And  where  that  falls,  expression  grows  less. 
Yet  if  we'd  scan  why  thus  he's  Hasting*  hence, 
His  name  may  give  you  some  intelligence. 
The  world  with  him  this  opposition  had  ; 
He  was  too  good  for  it,  and  that  too  bad. 


BY    LORD  FALKLAND. 

Farewell,  dear  Lord  and  Friend,  since  thou  hast  chose 
Rather  the  Phoenix  life,  than  death  of  crows  ; 
Though  Death  hath  ta'en  thee,  yet  I'm  glad  thy  Fame 
Must  still  survive  in  learned  Hastings'  name. 
For  thy  great  loss  my  fortune  I'll  condole, 
While  that  EUziura  enjoys  thy  soul. 

*  A  miserable  pun.    These  lines  give  byt  a  mean  idea  of  th« 
*oble  author's  genius. 

The 


136 

The  following  lines  have  considerable  merit ;  and  I 
more  willingly  introduce  them  as  written  by  a  poet,  whose 
<:ompositioiis  are  now  little  known. 

BY  SIR  ARTHUR  GORGES. 

Since  that  young  Hastings  'hove  our  hemisphere 

Is  snatch'd  away,  O  let  some  angel's  wing 
Lend  me  a  quill,  his  noble  fame  to  rear 

Up  to  that  quire  which  Halleluiah  sing. 
Sure  Heaven  itself  for  us  thought  him  too  good, 

And  took  him  hence  just  in  his  strength  and  prime. 
When  Virtue  'gan  to  make  him  understood, 

Beyond  the  peers  and  nobles  of  his  time. 
"Wherefore  'twill  ask  more  than  a  mortal  pen 

To  speak  his  worth  unto  posterity  ; 
Whose  judgment  shin'd  'mongst  grave  and  learned  meuj 

With  true  devotion  and  integrity  : 

For  which  in  heaven  the  joys  of  lasting  bliss 
He  reaps,  whilst  we  sow  tears  for  him  we  miss. 

But  I  no  praise  for  poetry  affect, 

Nor  Flattery's  hoped  meed  doth  me  incite  ; 
Such  base-born  thoughts  as  servile  I  reject : 

Sorrow  doth  dictate  what  my  pen  doth  write  : 
Sorrow  for  that  rich  treasure  we  have  lost ; 

Zeal  to  the  memory  of  what  we  had  ; 
And  that  is  all  they  can,  that  can  say  most. 

So  sings  my  muse  in  zeal  and  sorrow  clad ; 
So  sang  Achilles  to  his  silver  harp, 

When  foul  attront  had  reft  his  fair  delight ; 
So  sings  sweet  Philomel  against  the  sharp  ; 

So  sings  the  swan,  when  life  is  taking  flight  : 

So  sings  my  Muse  the  notes  which  sorrow  weeps  ; 
Which  anthem  sung,  my  Muse  for  ever  sleeps. 


B\  SIR  THOMAS  HIGGONS. 

These  are  thy  triumphs,  Death,  who  prid'st  to  give 
Their  lives  an  end,  who  best  deserve  to  live  ! 
Dull,  useless  men,  whom  Nature  makes  in  vain, 
Or  but  to  fill  her  number  and  her  train  ; 
Men  by  the  world  remembred  but  till  death 
Whose  empty  story  endeth  with  their  breath, 
Stay  till  old  age  consume  them  ;   when  the  Good 
The  Noble  and  the  Wise,  are  kiil'd  i'th'bud. 
^49d  Such 


137 

Such  was  the  subject  of  our  grief,  in  whom 
All  that  times  past  can  boast,  or  times  to  come 
Can  hope,  is  lost:  whose  blood,  although  its  springs 
Stream  from  the  royal  loins  of  England's  kings, 
His  virtue  hath  exalted,  and  refin'd  ; 
For  his  high  birth  was  lower  than  his  mind. 
But  that  the  Fates,  inexorably  bent 
To  mischief  man,  and  ruin  his  content. 
Would  have  this  sacrifice,  the  Sisters  might 
Have  been  aiFected  with  so  sweet  a  sight, 
And  thought  their  hasty  cruelty  a  crime. 
To  tear  him  from  his  friends  before  his  time. 


BY  CHARLES  COTTON,  ESQ. 

Amongst  the  mourners  that  attend  his  herse 

With  flowing  eyes,  and  wish  each  tear  a  verse, 

T'embalm  his  fame,  and  his  dear  merit  save 

Uninjur'd  from  th'  oblivion  of  the  grave, 

A  sacrifice  I  am  come  to  be 

Of  this  poor  ofl'ring  to  his  memory. 

O  could  our  pious  meditations  thrive 

So  well,  to  keep  his  better  part  alive. 

So  that,  instead  of  him  we  could  but  find 

Those  fair  examples  of  his  letter' d  mind, 

Virtuous  emulation  then  might  be 

Our  hopes  of  good  men,  though  not  such  as  He. 

But  in  his  hopeful  progress  since  he's  crost, 

Pale  Virtue  droops,  now  her  best  pattern's  lost. 

'Twas  hard,  neither  divine,  nor  human  parts, 

The  strength  of  Goodness,  Learning,  and  of  Arts, 

Full  crowds  of  friends,  nor  all  the  prayers  of  them, 

Nor  that  he  was  the  pillar  of  his  stem. 

Affection's  mark,  secure  of  all  men's  hate. 

Could  rescue  him  from  the  sad  stroke  of  fate. 

Why  was  not  th'  air  drest  in  prodigious  forms. 

To  groan  in  thunder,  and  to  weep  in  storms? 

And,  as  at  some  men's  fall,  why  did  not  his 

In  Nature  work  a  metamorphosis? 

No ;    he  was  gentle,  and  his  soul  was  sent 

A  silent  victim  to  the  firmament. 

Weep,  ladies,  weep  ;  lament  great  Hastings'  fall ; 

His  House  is  buried  in  his  funeral. 

Bathe  him  in  tears,  till  there  appear  no  trace 

Of  those  sad  blushes  in  his  lovely  face  : 

Ltt 


138 

Let  there  be  in't  of  guilt  no  seeming  sense, 

Nor  other  colour  than  of  innocence. 

For  he  was  w  ise  and  good,  tlu)ut;h  he  was  young, 

Well  suited  to  the  stock  from  whence  he  sprung  : 

And  what  in  youth  is  ignorance  and  vice, 

In  him  prov'd  pif^ty  of  an  excellent  price. 

Farpwtll,  dear  Lord  ;  and  since  thy  body  must 

In  time  return  to  Us  first  matter,  dust ; 

Rest  in  thy  melancholy  tomb  in  peace!   For  who 

"Would  longer  live,  that  could  but  now  die  so  ? 

For  a  full  and  minute  account  oflMe  ilUistrioiis  house 
of  Hastings,  the  reader  is  referred  t'>  Nuhols\  Leicester* 
shire  under  Ashbi/  de  la  Zouch. 


*'  f  TJii/s  Prymeroff  Salisburye  vse  is  sett  owgh'  ahng 
wj/ihorght  ony  serchyna;^  roj/ih  many  prayers^  and 
goodly  pydures  in  the  Kalen'er,  yn  the  maiynx  off 
owr  lady^  yn  the  houres  off  t/ie  rrosse  yr/  the  vii. 
psalines:  8f  yn  the  dyryg( .  w.lh  the  xv,  oqs-  yn 
ynghlysh  8f  the  ^fessiona/l  ^  J.  >vy*  psalter  newly  em* 
pryntedyn  Paris,  wythyn  the  howxe  iff  'I'hylnmn  Ker-^ 
ver  att  the  expenses  of  Johan  groute  buke  seller  yn 
london  dwellyng  wyth  yn  the  black  Jreeis  ttext  the 
church  doore."     16mo.b.L 

Below  this  title  is  the  small  device  of  Thielman  Ker^ 
ver,  with  the  date  M.D.xxxiii. 

At  the  end  of  the  Calendar  with  which  this  little  vo- 
lume opens,  "  The  dayes  of  the  weke"  arp  *'  moralised" 
in  verse:  after  which  we  have  "  The  pianer  to  lyue 
well"  compiled  by  "  Mayster  Johan  quentin  doctour  in 
dyuinite  at  Parys  ;  traslated  out  of  frenche  into  englysse 
by  J^ohert  Copldd  prynter  at  Londo."  Near  the  end, 
signat.  N.  iiii.  is  a  table  of  the  general  contents;  with 
"  Expliciunt  hore  beatissime  virgin  is  Marie  seciidura 
vsum  Sarum,  totaliter  ad  longum,cumorationibusbeate 
Brigilte,  ac  muHis  aliis,  impresse  Parisiis,  irapensis 
quidem  honesti  viri  Joannis  Growte  librarii,  opera  au- 
tera  cospicue  matrone  Yolandc  Bonhomme  vidue  de- 
functi  Thielmanni  Kerver,  sub  vnicorni  commoratis,  in 
vico  diui  Jacobi  Anno  dni.  M.D.xxxij.  mense  Au- 
eusto." 

Then 


139 

Then  follows,  aftef  atiotber  impression  of  the  device, 
•  An  inuocacyon  gloryous  named  the  psalter  of  Jesus," 
lentioned  in  the  title  at  the  beginning  :  from  the  close  of 
hich  the  following  ^'  Prayer  to  Jhesus"  has  been 
opied. 

*'  Jhesu  Lorde  that  madest  me 

And  with  thy  blode  haste  bought 
Forgyue  that  I  haue  greuyd  the 

In  wordes  vyeikes  and  thought. 

^j- 'ft  Jhesu  for  thy  woundes  smerte 
>  On  thy  fete  and  handes  two 
Make  me  lowly  of  my  herte 
The  toloue  as  1  shulde  do. 

S  Jhesu  cryste  to  the  I  call 

That  arte  god  full  of  myght 
Kepe  me  clene  that  I  do  not  fall 

In  deedly  synne  day  ne  nyght. 

S  Jhesu  gyue  my  askynge 

Perfyte  pacyence  in  mydysease 
And  that  I  neuer  do  that  thynge 

The  to  angre  or  dysplease. 

f  Jhesu  that  arte  heuen  kynge 

Sothfast  gost  and  man  also 
Gyue  me  grace  of  good  endynge 

And  them  that  I  am  holden  to. 

H  Jhesu  for  thy  dolefull  teres 

That  thou  weped  for  my  gylte 
Here  and  spede  my  prayers 

And  grauut  that  1  be  not  spylte. 

f  Jhesu  for  them  I  the  beseche 

That  angre  the  in  any  wyse 
Stryke  them  not  in  thy  wreche 

And  let  them  lyue  in  thy  seruyce. 

?  Jhesu  joyfuU  for  to  se 

Of  thy  sayntes  euerychone 
Conforte  them  that  carefuU  be 

And  helpe  them  that  be  wo  begou 

f  Jhesu  kepe  them  that  be  gode 

And  them  amende  that  greuyth  the 
Alfa  sfende  vs  fruyte  and  erthly  fode 

As  rs  nedeth  in  our  degre. 

Jhesu 


140 

f  Jhesu  that  arte  without  leas 

Almyghty  god  in  tryiiyte 
Seas  all  varre  &  send  vs  peas 

With  lastynge  loue  &  charyte. 

f  Jhesu  that  art  the  ghostly  stone 

Of  all  holy  churche  en  erde 
Brynge  thy  flocke  all  in  to  one 

And  rule  them  ryght  in  one  herde. 

5  Jhesu  for  thy  precyous  blode 

Brynge  the  soules  in  to  blysse 
For  whom  I  hare  any  good 

And  forgyve  them  theyre  mysse.     Amen.' 

E. 


%  The  Censxre  of  a  loyall  Subiect:  vpon  certaine  noted 
Speach  Sf  behnuiours  of  these  fourteen  notable  Traitors 
at  the  place  of  their  executions  the  xx  and  xxi  of  Sep' 
tembeVy  last  past.  As  also,  of  the  Scottish  Queen, 
now  (thankes  be  to  God)  cut  of  by  iustice,  as  the  prin- 
cipal J^oote  of  al  their  treasons.  On  Wednesday/  the 
8  of  Februarie  1 586.  Wherein  is  handled  matter  of 
necessarie  instruction  and  comfort  for  al  duetiful 
subiectes :  especiallj/,  the  multitude  of  ignoraunt 
people.  Feare  God :  be  true  to  thy  Prince  :  and 
obey  the  Laxces.  At  London.  Printed  by  Richard 
Jones,  dwelling  at  the  signe  of  the  Rose  and  the 
Croune,  neere  Ilolborne  bridge,   qto. 

At  the  back  of  the  title-page  is  the  following  Adver- 
tisement ; 

^'  Cvrteous  Reader:  my  good  friend  M [aster]  G[eorge] 
W[hetsone]  at  his  departure  into  the  countrey  left  this 
most  honest  worke  to  be  censured  by  me,  being  right  well 
assured  by  the  continuance  of  our  true  friendshi{)pes  that  I 
ivould  not  deceive  him  with  a  flattering  judgment,  and  (trust 
me)  vpon  a  considerate  reading,  I  found  it  a  little  book  con- 
taining a  large  testimony  of  his  loyalty  to  his  Prince  and 
country,  a  sweet  comfort  and  most  sound  counsail  for  good 
subiectes :  concluding,  by  many  fair  examples  of  Traitors 
foule  endes,  that  the  reward  of  treason  is  distruction,  and 
after  death  lasting  infamie.     I  haue  aduentured  to  possesse 

thee 


141 

thee  with  the  benefite  thereof,  before  I  made  account  vnto 
him  of  my  liking,  vhich  is  that  no  good  subiect  can  mislike 
the  same,  and  1  made  the  more  haste  here  in,  because  some 
wicked  persons  that  will  not  be  admonished  haue  now  by  new- 
conspiracy  desired  our  publique  sorrowe,  and  by  their  dis- 
couery  haue  brought  an  vniuersall  ioy  into  the  church  of 
God.  Glue  God  thankes  for  his  wonderfull  preseruation  of 
her  Mjiiestie  and  the  confusion  of  her  enemies  ;  serue  him 
and  read  this  booke  which  trulie  promiseth  thee  that  such 
miscreate  persons  shall  npuer  prosper  in  their  deuices.  No 
more  but  feare  God  and  thou  shalt  fare  well.  Thy  louing 
frien,  T.  C* 

It  is  dedicated  to  the  right  honourable  Sir  William 
€ecill.  Knight,  Baron  of  Burleigh,  Lord  high  Treasu- 
rer of  England,  &c.  wherein  the  author  says, 

"  I  present,  for  the  general  instruction  of  my  countrey- 
men  the  subiects  of  England,  my  obseruances  of  certain  noted 
speach  and  behauiors  of  those  fourteene  notable  traitors, 
which  lately  suffered  for  their  treasons  :  trusting  that  this 
censure,  by  the  sentence  of  all  good  subiects,  will  merite  the 
acceptance  of  my  former  bookes,  which  hetherto  haue 
escaped  the  disgrace  of  publique  reproofe.  Protesting,  in 
the  behalf  of  my  writing,  that  my  desire  hath  euermore  bene 
to  instruct  ail  men  and  not  toiniure  the  worst  of  the  wicked." 
Subscribed  :  "  Humbly  at  your  Lordship's  commandement. 
G.  W." 

Then  the  work  as  "  a  Censure,  in  forrae  of  a  Dia- 
logue" wherein  three  are  "  the  speakers:  Walker,  a 
godly  deuine  ;  Weston,  a  discreet  gentleman;  Wil- 
cocks,  a  substantial  clothier."  The  last  has  newly  arrived 
at  home  and  relates  the  best  news  at  London. — Here 
our  author  takes  opportunity  to  show  his  loyalty,  leaving 
scarce  one  of  the  persons  that  had  suffered  in  the  time  of 
Elizabeth  unnoticed.  His  observations  on  the  Q.  of 
Scots  appear  the  most  interesting  at  the  present  period. 

"  In  very  truth  (he  says)  necessitie  hath  made  the  bloody 
deuices  of  the  Scottish  Q.  so  common,  as  no  good  subiect  may 
iustly  be  forbidden  to  deriue  the  cause,  both  of  foraigne  and 
domestike  conspiracies,  from  her  vnprincely  heart.  Our 
sacred  Q.  Elizabeth's  mercy  hath  many  yeares  conledea 
with  a  number  of  fearful  admonitions  to  preserue  both  the 
life   and   honor  of  this  most  vnkinde  queen.     When  tHei' 

♦  Q.  Thomas  Churchyard  ? 
1  Scottes 


14!2 

.ScoUes,  her  own  ppople,  pursued  her  life  and  printed  her 
dffam*    the   Quecne's  Maiesty  entertained  her  as  Augustus 
did  his  euemyc  Cinna  :  she  gaue  her  her  life  that  many  waies 
sought  her  own  life  :  and  was  so  careful!  of  her  honour  that 
she  forbad  the  bookes  of  her  faults  to  be  coiiuersaot  among 
her  english  subiecls,  which  almost  in  euery  other  nation  wer 
made  vulgar  :*  but  Cinna  after  three  times  forgiuenes,  be- 
came  (none  so)  faithful   to  Augustus:   when  this  Scottish 
Queen,  bein^  three  times  thrise  forgiuen,  remaineth   (none 
more)  bloodily  infected  to  Queene  Elizabfth,  h;  r  own  hand 
writings  be  witnesses.     During  the  whole  course  of  her  abode 
in  Eng.  which  may  be  properly  called  a  protection,   and  no 
imprisonment,  ther   is  nothing  more  manifest  then  that  her 
mallice  thirsted  the  death  of  her  own  life.     The  currantes  of 
her  practises  wore  so  general  as  euery  good  christian  prince 
know  as  murh,  and  certified  her  Maiestie  no  lesse:  in  fine 
seeing  y'  her  pretedings  were  not  only  against  the  person  of 
her  maiestie,   but  that  they  also  reached  to  the  change  of 
christiu  religion,   some   zealous  members  of  the  Church  of 
God,  in  publique  writing  did  set  downe,  the  daunger  of  her 
Maiesties  mercye,t  and  in  christian  pollicy  shewed  by  many 
•waightie  reasons,  lliat  God  deliueredthe  Scottish  Queen  vnto 
the  8word  of  her  iuslice,  as  he  did  many  idolatrous  princes 
Into  the  handes  of  the  kinges  of  Israeli :  But  our  most  gratious 
Queen  notwithstanding  these  continual  aduertisementes  with 
a  magnanimous  heart  digested  all  this  danger:  yea,   she  was 
80  farre  from   reuenge  as  shee  yeelded  not  to  make  her  sub. 
iects  partakers  of  these  forraine  counsels  whom  next  vnder 
her,  they  principally  concerned.     Lastly,  when  the  continual 
importunities  of  her  louing  subiects  by  all  the  estates  of  Par- 
liament tyred  her  Maiestie  with  petitions  to  proceed  to  the 
sentence  of  her   own  lawes,  her  clemency  found  out  delay, 
■when  justice  would  admit   no  excuse.     But  the  delaye  of 
execution  prooued  so  dangerous  as  the  safety  of  y"  Queenes 
Maiestie  (was  in  iudgement  of  the  wisest)  held  desperate  so 
long   as  the   Scottish  Queen   liued  :  and   (therfore)  to  the 
vnspeakable  griefe  of  y*  Queenes  Maiestie,  though  (otherwise) 
to  the  Tuiuersall  ioy  and  desire  of  her  sublectes,  justice  was 
executed  vpon  this  vngodiy  Queene  tpon  Wednesday  the  8 


of  Fcbruarie  1586." 


Eusebius  Hodd. 


•  Bookes  written  against  the  Scoltisli  Q.  forbidden  in  Eneland. 

t  A  book  long  since  written  in  French  to  sentence  the  bloody 
proceedings  gf  the  ^tliih ,U.  with  death,    i^. 


143 

f  A  Relation  of  ten  years  Travels  in  Europe,  Asia, 
Affrtque,  and  America.  All  hy  zoay  of  Letters 
occasionally  written  to  divers  noble  personages,  from 
place  to  place  ;  and  continued  to  this  present  year,  by 
Richard  Fleckno.  JVith  divers  other  Historical^ 
Moral,  atid  Poetical  pieces  of  the  same  author. 

Jlcec  olim  meminissejuvabit. 

London.  Printed  for  the  Author,  and  are  to  he  sold 
by  8yo.  pp.  176. 

As  very  little  is  known  of  Fieckno's  history,*  though 
Dryden's  poem  has  coupled  his  name  with  contempt, 
I  copy  fully  the  contents  of  this  rare  little  volume,  for 
which  the  usual  kindness  of  Mr.  Heber  has  furnished  me 
with  the  opportunity. 

*'  To  the  Lord  Marquis  of  Newcastle,  who  in  answer  to  % 
copy  of  verses  of  his  sent  him  the  following. 

Fleckno,  thy  rerses  are  too  high  for  me, 

Though  they  but  justly  fit  thy  Muse  and  thee, 

Caesars  should  be  thy  theme  on  them  to  write, 

Though  thou'dst  expresse  them  more  than  they  could  fight; 

Those"  worthies  rank  them  in  thy  wit's  pure  file,  * 

Though  Homer's  bliish,  and  Virgil's  lofty  stile  : 

For  thy  poetic  flame  is  so  much  higher, 

Where  it  should  warm,  't  consumes  us  with  thy  fire. 

Thy  vaster  fancy  does  embrace  all  things. 

And  for  thy  subject  ought  t'have  greatest  kings. 


My  Lord, 

I  received  the  verses  you  honored  me  withall,  which 
impose  on  me  a  necessity  of  deserving  them,  although  I  do 
not  yet ;  to  which  end  1  know  you  writ  them  (for  'twere  too 
great  presumption  in  me  to  imagine  you  flatter'd  me)  it 
being  one  of  the  gentlest  arts  of  friendship  laudando  pros, 
cipere,  to  praise  ones  friends  into  virtues  which  they  want ; 
yet  must  1  glory  in  it,  and  praise  it  every  where ;  since  if, 
•as  Cicero  says,  laus  est  laudari  a  laudabili  viro,  'tis  only 
true  praise  to  be  praised  by  a  praise-worthy  man,  how  glorious 
must  it  be  to  me,  to  be  praised  by  the  most  praise- worthy 
juaa  alive  ?  by  one  who  has  the  most  of  the  nobleman  iaiJsiim, 

•  See  Scott's  Dryden,  vol.  x.  p.  44U  /  "  «j  i^- 

the 


144 

the  most  of  true  greatness,  and  who  Is  of  so  equal  a  mind  in 
all  fortunes,  as  prosperous  could  never  elate,  nor  adverse  e'er 
depress  ;  no  more,  my  Lord,  but  the  assurances  that  I  shall 
always  be 

Your  Lordship's  most,  &c." 


The  first  letter  to  CoL'Williain  Evers  from  Gant, 
(Ghent)  1640,  states  the  author's  reasons  for  leaving 
iSngland,  saying  that,  like  certain  birds,  he  flies  from 
coming  storms.  The  second  letter  in  1641  is  from  the 
same  place,  and  contains  a  character  and  epitaph  of  the 
Earl  of  Strafford.  The  third  letter  is  from  Ghent  to  Mr. 
Henry  Petus  in  1642.  Letter  I V.  is  to  the  Lady  Audley 
from  Brussels,  1642.  Letter  V.  from  the  same  place  to 
Mr.  Edward  Lewis,  1643.  Letter  VI.  is  also  from  Brus- 
sels, 1644,  and  concerns  his  '^  resolution  to  travel  into 
Italy."  Letter  VII.  is  to  Mademoiselle  de  Beau  vais,  from 
Paris,  1644.  VI II.  To  the  same,  from  Marseilles,  1644. 
IX.  To  the  same  from  Genoa,  1643.  X.  To  the  same 
from  Rome,  1645.  XI ,  To  the  same,  from  Rome,  1645, 
*'  containing  an  historical  relation  of  the  marriage  of  tlie 
Duchess  ofLorain."  XII.  "  To  the  Duchess  of  Lo- 
raine,  from  Rome,  1645,  touching  the  state  of  her 
affairs."  XIII.  *'  To  Sir  J.  S.  from  Rome,  1645,  in 
answer  to  his  news  of  the  Scots  coming  into  England." 
XIV.  "  To  the  Lord  Marquis  Camilio  Bagni,  from 
Rome,  anno  1645."  XV.  "  To  Count  Salazar,  from 
Rome,  1646,  on  the  taking  Piombino  and  Porta  Len- 
gona."  XVI.  *'  To  the  Princess  of  Hoghzollern,  from 
Rome,  1647,  of  his  irksome  life  at  Rome,  and  hope  he 
had  to  revisit  Flanders."  XVII.  «'  To  the  Count  Sa- 
lazar, from  Genoa,  1648.  Of  the  reduction  of  Naples, 
and  some  passages  concerning  it."  XVIII.  "  To  the 
Lord  Thomas  Somerset,  from  Marseilles,  1647.  Of  his 
voyage  and  return  out  of  Asia."  XIX.  *'  To  the  Lord 
Charles  Dudley,  Prince  of  the  Empire,  &c.  from  Lis- 
bon, 1648.  Of  his  sea-voyage  from  Provence  to  Portu- 
gal." XX.  *'  To  Doctor  Hart  at  Rome,  from  Lisbon, • 
J 648.  Concerning  some  reports  of  him  at  Rome." 
XXI.  *'  To  the  Countesse  of  Berlumont,  1648,  where 
lie  merrily  describes  his  life  at  Lisbon."  XXII.  "  To 
Mademoisselle  de  Beanvais,  from  Lisbon,  1645." 
XXIII.  "  To  the  same,  1648.     Of  his  sea-voyage  from 

Lisbon 


145 

Lisbon  to  the  Brasils."  XXIV. «'  To  the  Reveren(^  Fa- 
ther John  Pererio  of  the  Society  of  J.  in  Brasil,  1650." 

XXV.  "  To  the  Lord from  Lisbon,  1650.     Of 

some  discourses  iii  Portugal."  XXV L  *'  To  Mr.  Joha 
Mulys,  1650.  Character  of  an  Eng-lish  merchant  resi- 
dent in  foreign  parts."  XXVII.  "  To  the  Duchess  of 
Lorain,  at  Berseel  nigh  Brussels,  1650.  The  descrip- 
tion of  the  Countess  of  Berlamout's  funeral."  XXVIIL 
**  To  the  same.  Apprehending  danger  from  the  inflam- 
Jtiation  and  redness  of  tlie  Princess's  eyes."  XXIX. 
"  To  the  .same.  Merrily  describinir  his  journey  on  foot 
from  Berseel  to  iiruxelles."  XXX.  "  To  the  Lord 
Duke  of  Buckingham.  In  praise  of  Berseel,  a  castle  of 
Mademoiselle  de  Bcauvais  nigh  Bruxelles."  XXXI. 
"  To  Mademoiselle  de  B.  1650.  The  reason  of  his 
leaving  Bruxelles  to  wait  upon  the  Duchess  of  Lorain 
into  the  country."  XXXIl.  "  To  Monsieur  Laurius, 
Lieutenant  Civil  at  Gant,  1650."  XXXIl  I.  *'  To  Made- 
moiselle de  B.  1650.  Of  language."  XXXI V.  "  To 
the  same,  Of  the  pronunciation  of  several  languages." 
XXXV. «  To  Mademoiselle  deB.  Offamc."5tXXVL 
*'  To  Mademoiselle  de  Clerque  at  Gant,  1650.  Wherein 
he  declares  the  life  they  led  in  the  country."  XXXVII. 
"   To  Mademoiselle  de  Beauvais,     The   vices  of  evil 

toncrues arraigned."     XXXVllI.  "  To  the  Lady -^ , 

1651.     Of  secrets."     XXXIX.  *'  To  the  Lady , 

how  we  are  to  contemn  the  calumnies  of  the  world." 

"XL.'^Ta  Mademoiselle  deB .     Of  affectation." 

XLI.  "  To  Mademoiselle  de  B ,  1651.     Inviting 

her  into  the  country,  the  plague  being  hot  at  Bruxelles." 

XLII.  "  To  Mademoiselle ,  taking  exceptions 

at  somewhat  he  had  writ."  XLIII.  "  Per  Speculum 
in  Enigmate.  On  a  rairour  in  enigma,  presented  to  the 
Princess  of  Loraine."  XLIV^  "  To  Mademoiselle  de 
1^  Beauvais. in  raillerie,  1631."  XLV.  "  The  answer.'* 
'  'XL VI.  <'  To  Mademoiselle  de  Beauvais,  1651.  On  his 
leaving  Breen."  XLVIl.  *'  To  the  Lady  Tenham, 
1654.  In  sending  her  a  song  or  btdlad."  XLVIII. 
"  To  Cloris,  1654.  Onher  goinaoutof  town.     XLIX. 

,     «To  the  Lord  Rich."     L.  "To  the  Lady . 

'*'*Of  the  Temple  of  Friendship,  a  Iragi-comedy  he  was 

'     writing,  1*  ith  the  character  of  the  persons."     LI.  "To 

VOL.  IV.  '  T,  Lilly 


146 

Lilly  drawino:  Cloris  pictnre,"  poetry.  LII.  "  To  the 
LndyBiron  On  the  black  hair  of  a  tine  lady,"  poetry. 
Llli.  "To  Briget  Coutitess  of  Desmond,  In  excuse 
of  his  no  sooner  celebratinjj  her  praises,"  poetry.  LIV. 
<«  To  CIo  is,"  poetry.  LV.  "  To  the  Lady  Elizabeth 
Darcey,"poetry.  LVI.  "  To  the  Lady  Isabella  Thinn," 
poetry.  LVIL  "  The  fair  mourner.  To  the  Lady 
floM'ard,"  poetry.  LVI II.  *'  To  Misa.  Angry  be- 
cause she  was  old,"  poetry.  LIX.  "  To  the  same.  On 
her  striving  to  appear  still  faif^nd  young,"  poetry. 
LX.  "  To  Phillis.  Reporting  he  loved  her  because  he 
praised  her,"  poetry.  LXL  "  To  the  Vice-roy  of 
Korway,  1655.  In  sending  him  some  verses,  Avhicli  he 
desired." — "  On  his  choosing  Valentines."  LXII. 
"  To  the  Countess  of  Desmond.  On  the  death  of  Lady 
Theophyla  Carey,  daughter  to  Henry  Earle  of  Mon- 
ttioilth,  1655."  LXIII.  "  To  Mr.  Thomas  Higgins. 
With  his  ode  in  praise  of  a  country  life."  LXI V.  "  A 
condoling  epistle  to  the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  1655. 
On  the  death  of  my  Lord  Duke  her  husband."  LXV. 
<*  A  consolatory  epistle  to  the  Queen  Motlier  of  France, 
Mary  of  Medices,  written  about  the  year  1641.  Omit- 
ted in  its  place,  and  inserted  here." 


"  ODE  IN  PRAISE  OF  A  COUNTRY  LIFE. 

O  happiness  of  country  life, 
\Vhich  town  nor  palace  ne'er  could  boast; 
Where  men  are  e'en  with  gods  at  strife, 
Whose  happiness  should  be  the  most. 

Whilst  innocently  all  live  there, 
Lords  of  themselves  as  well  as  land, 
Out  of  the  road  of  hopes  and  fear, 
And  out  of  Fortune's  proud  command. 

While  to  deprive  men  of  their  own. 
Is  crime  which  yet  they  never  saw, 
Nor  more  injustice  e'er  was  known, 
Than  not  to  give  beasts  hunted  law. 

Where  but  for  fish  there's  none  lay  baits, 
Wor  traps  but  for  some  ravenous  beast, 
And  but  for  lowl  there's  no  deceits, 
So  harmless  they're  in  all  the  rest. 

Where 


147 

Where  of  false  dealings  none's  afraid, 

And  soothing  flattery  none  allows, 

But  only  in  the  dairy-maid, 

Who,  whilst  she  milks  them,  strokes  her  cows. 

Where  only  in  sheep. shearing  time 
The  rich  the  poor  do  seem  to  fleece, 
And  of  oppression  all  their  crime 
Is  only  whilst  they  make  their  cheese. 

Then  for  the  pleasant  do  but  think 
Th'  vast  difference  there  is  twixt  both. 
Whilst  men  in  towns  live  in  a  sink, 
A  life  e'en  very  beasts  would  loath. 

Where  nothing  on  the  earth  does  grow 
To  speak  the  seasons  ;  but  (in  sum) 
By  dirt  they  only  winter  know. 
And  only  dust  shews  summer's  come. 

Then  for  serenating  the  mind, 
Without  which  no  contentment  is, 
Where  in  loud  cities  shall  you  find 
A  recollection  like  to  this  ? 

Where  on  some  object  whilst  I  stay, 
And  hidden  cause  of  it  would  find, 
No  noise  does  fright  my  thoughts  airay, 
Nor  sudden  fright  disheart  my  mind. 

Or  if  that  any  noise  there  be, 
'Tis  such  as  makes  me  not  afeard, 
Of  water's  fall,  birds'  melody, 
O'th'  bleating  flock,  and  lowing  heard. 

Meantime  how  highly  are  they  blest, 
Whose  conversation's  all  with  them, 
Who  only  but  for  th'  name  of  beast 
Are  in  effect  less  beasts  than  men. 

For  no  ambition  makes  them  fight, 
Nor  unto  mutual  slaughter  run, 
Invading  one  another's  right 
Till  th'  one  or  both  be  quite  undone. 

None  others  acts  calumniate, 
Nor  misinterpret  every  word  ; 
For  others  lives  none  lies  in  wait. 
Nor  kills  with  poison,  nor  with  sword. 
h  2 


Then 


148 

Then  to  conclude,  the  country  life 
Has  happiness  towns  could  never  boast, 
Whtre  men  are  even  with  gods  at  strife, 
Whose  happiness  should  be  the  most. 
And  since  life  somewhere  must  be  spent. 
Give  me  but  A  mo  ret' s  company, 
Without  which  life  has  no  content, 
And  here  I  could  both  live  and  die." 

These  lines  have  some  poetical  merit,  and  place  Fleckno 
in  a  better  light  than  he  has  hitherto  appeared  in. 
July  98,  1812.  B. 

f  Sivqi/a.  Too  good  to  be  true.  Omen.  TJiough  so  at 
a  vewe^  Yet  all  that  I  tofde  vouy  Is  true,  1  vpholde 
you :  Nome  cease  to  ashe  rmy  ?  For  1  cannot  lye. 
Herein  is  shewed  by  way  of  Dialogue y  the  wonderful 
maners  of  the  people  of  Maugsun,  with  other  talke  not 
friuolous.  Seen  and  allowed,  Sfc.  Printed  in  Thames 
Streate,  neere  vnto  Baynards  Castell.  1580.  [Back  of 
title  "  the  armes  of  Sir  Chr,  Hatton.^^  Colophon,] 
At  London  Imprinted  by  Henry  Binneman,  dwelling 
in  Thames  Streete  neere  vnto  Baynardes  Castle.  1580. 
pp.  178.   Quarto. 

This  work  was  followed,  in  the  next  year,  by  "  The 
**  second  part  and  knittincr  up  of  the  Boke  entituled 
*'  Too  fifood  to  be  true.  Wherein  is  continued  the  dis- 
"  course  of  the  wonderful  Lawes,  commendable  cns- 
*'  tomes,  and  strange  manners  ofthe  people  of  Maugsun. 
**  Newly  penned  and  published  by  Tho.  Lupton. 
*'  Printed  1581.  4to." — Few  readers  are  unacquainted 
with  the  Utopia  of  Sir  1  homas  More ;  this  dialogue  de- 
scribes an  imaginary  commonwealth,  and  is  imitative  of 
that  fanciful  and  visionary  work  ;*  it  contains  much  good 
sense,  but  is  decidedly  inf**rior  to  its  elegant  prototype. 

1  he  Ibllowing  extract  is  not  inapposite,  even  at  the 
present  enlig  ht  en  td  period. 

*'  There  is  not  one  dicer  nor  yet  carder  in  all  our  coun> 
Irey.  Oure  llulerb,  Lordes,  Knightcs,  and  Gtnllemen, 
(wishing  rather  to  profile  othrr,  than  to  fill  their  pursea 
myth  other  mens  pence,  and  to  solace  their  wearyed  mindes 

•  The  interlocutors  are  Sivqila  a  stranger,  and  Omen  an  inha- 
bitant of  Maugsun. 

"Tlier^ 


149 

by  honest  pastimes,  than  to  get  greedie  gain* by  diuelish  and 
dete.staL)l«»  diceplaje)  doe  use  divers  times  (when  (h(y  doe 
playe)  to  plave  at  Chesse,  the  As(roiomers  s>ame,  and  the 
Philosophers  gam*^,  whiche  whcltes  (heir  wiftes,  recreates 
their  ininde,  and  hurfes  nobody  in  the  nieane  s-ason.* 

Sivqila.  These  games  you  spnake  of  are  too  busie  for 
manye  of  oure  hendes :  and  many  of  our  headv  s  are  other- 
wise too  busie  to  followe  your  good  orders.  Diee-playe  is 
so  comm(<n!ye  used  with  us,  that  many  boyes,  servin.,men, 
andoth<T,are  more  e^perte  in  playing  at  dice,  than  in  Dauid's 
Psalmes, 

Omen.  Haueyou  no  lawes  againste  suche  unlawfull games  ? 

Siyqila.  Yes,  we  haue  lawes  to  forbid  them,  and  licences  to 
alio  we  them.+ 

Omen,  ihat  is  as  thoughe  a  father  shoulde  commaunde  his 
Sonne  to  goe  to  schoole,  and  immediatly  give  him  leave  io 
playe  the  tr«'want.  Those  lawes  shal  never  be  wi4  kepte, 
that  are  licensed  to  be  broken. — Nay,  if  we  have  lawes,  we 
keepe  lawes." 

The  general  discussion  of  the  work  is  often  relieved  by 
"  pleasaunte"  narrations,  amongst  which  is  the  well 
known  (ale  of  Androcles  and  the  Lion.lf 

Bristol.  J.  F. 


f  A  Swete  and  devovte  Sermon  of  ho^y  saijnt  ( iprian 
*  of  mortalilie  of  man.  The  rules  of  a  (hnstian  lyfe 
made  bi/  Picus  erle  of  Mirandula,  bolhe  trai slated  mto 
engJyshe  by  syr  Thomas  Elyot  knyghte.  J^ond.'ni  in 
aedibus  The.  Bertheleti.  Colophon,  Thomas  Btrthe' 
let  regius  impressor  cxcudebat.  An.  1534.  Cum  pri" 
vilegio. 

Several  of  the  curious  tracts  published  by  this  worthy 
knight  have  already  been  noticed  in  the  pages  of  the 
Bibliographer,  and  the  present  may  assist  in  a  comple- 
tion of  the  list. 

The  dedication  is, 

*  To  my  ryghte  worshypfull  suster  dameSuzan  Kyngestone, 
and  prays  her  '  to  communicate  it  with  our  twosusters  religi- 
ouse  Dorothe  and  Alianour.' 

Bristol.  J.f/ 

♦The  exercise  of  the  higher  sorte.  Margin,    f  Marke  well.  ib. 

t  This  has  very  lately  been  elegantly  modernised  troiu  the  Gesta 
Romanorum  by  Mr.  Elton  (the  translator  of  Hesiod)  in  his  Tales  of 
Romance- 


150 

•If  Flowres  of  Epigramme^  nut  of  sundrie  the  most  sirh- 
gular  authors^  nflecfed.,  dec.  hi/  Timothie  Kendall,  late 
of  I  he  vniuersitie  of  Oxford,  now  of  Sfaple  Inn.  Lom 
don,  1517.     [Sixteens,  containing  S.  in  eights.]        >: 

Kendall's  poems  are  of  extreme  rarity,  nor  can  1,  at 
the  present  moment,  call  to  mind  more  than  two  other 
copies  ;  one  in  the  collection  of  the  late  Mr.  Mnlono,  the 
<Jther  (and  that  imperfect)  in  the  library  of  George 
Mason. 

The  copy  now  before  me  wants  the  title-page,  but  I 
have  transcribed  it  from  Herbert's  Ames,  vol.  ii.  page 
1115,  for  the  sake  of  rendering  the  present  account 
more  perfect.  On  sign.  A  ij.  is  the  epistle  dedicatory, 
*'  to  the  right  honourable  the  lorde  Ilol)ert  Dudley, 
carle  of  Leycester.  baron  of  Denbigh,  master  of  the 
qucenes  niaiesties  horse,  knight  of  the  noble  order  of 
the  garter,  cheefe  chaunceler  of  ihe  uniuersitie  of  Ox- 
ford, and  one  of  her  highnes  moste  honourable  priiiie 
counsell :"  [to  whom]  "  Timothe  Kendall  wisheth 
happy  health,  with  increase  of  honour." 

Of  the  author  little  is  now  known.*  He  was  a  native 
of  the  county  of  Oxford,  and,  although  he  has  escaped 
the  researches  of  the  Oxford  biographer,  became  a  mem- 
ber of  that  university,  having  previously  received  a, 
school  education  at  Eton.  From  thence  he  removed  to 
Staples  inn,  London,  and  here  all  traces  of  his  life,  for 
the  present,  remain. 

The  volume  is  divided  into  two  parts,  1.  Flowers  of 
Epigrams :  out  of  sundrie  the  moste  singular  authors 
selected,  containing  112  folios,  ending  at  sign.  O  8.  2. 
Trifles  by  Timolhe  Kendal,  deuised  and  written  (for  the 
moste  part)  at  sundrie  twines  in  his  i/ong  and  tender  age. 
The  latter,  although  toliated  anew,  begin  at  sign.  P. 
On  the  last  leaf  the  following  colophon,  Imprinted  at 
Jjondon  in  Paules  churche  yarde,  at  the  signe  of  the 
Brasen  Serpent  bu  Jhon  Shepperd  Anno  1577,  with  the 
singular  device  of  a  swan  performing  on  a  violin,  with  a 
scroll  of  music  before  it,  and  represented  as  singing  the 
following  lines  from  Martial  beneath, 

•  For  some  notices  of  the  family  of  Kendal,  who  were  distant- 
ly related  to  Sir  Aston  Cockain,  see  the  Topographer,  vol.  ii.  158, 
and  vol.  iv.  112. 

"  Dulcia 


^151 

"  Dulcia  defpcta  modulatur  carmina  lingua, 
Cantator  Cygnus  funeris  ipse  suis," 

So  much  for  the  typosrniohical  d^^scription  of  this 
Tolume.  1  wish  1  could  add,  tiiat  its  Titprary  merit  was 
at  all  equal  to  its  rarity,  but  this,  perhaps,  were  too 
much  to  expect,  for  had  it  possessed  more  intrinsic 
value  it  would  have  iDcen  more  carefully  preserved  ;  Hg 
it  is  there  arc  not,  in  all  probability,  six  copies  in 
existence. 

Immediately  following  the  epistle  before  mentioned  is  the 
author's  preface  "  to  (he  courteous  and  'itndly  reader," 
part  of  which  [  transcribe.  *'  Hauyiig  enured  my  selfe  in 
my  greene  and  growyng  yeares  to  readyng  of  poetrif  (an 
arte  in  my  mind  and.censgre  both  princely  and  pleasant)  in 
riper  yeares  I  could  neither  by  faire  meanes  be  allured,  nor 
fouje  mines  procured,  from  emhracying  thereof,  s;}  greatly 
therewith  was  I  linked  in  loue." — Now  (courteous  reaier) 
of  all  sorts  of  poems  and  poesies,  none  (mee  thinketh)  are 
more  pithie  and  pleasant,  than  pretty,  shorte,  witty,  qnicke 
and  quippyng  epigrammes  ;  in  the  which  kind  of  v\rityng 
Marcus  Valerius  Marfialis  is  counted  chei  fly  to  excell. 
Wherfore  out  of  him  (as  sundrie  other  most  singular  au- 
thors) haue  I  translated  and  taken  sundrie  short,  propper, 
pithie  and  pleasant  verses  and  epigrammes  for  thy  no  little 
profite  and  great  delectation  ;  m  >rrie.  this  I  must  let  thee 
vnderstand,  that  as  well  out  of  Martial  as  the  rest,  1  haue 
left  the  lewde,  I  haue  chosen  the  chaste  ;  I  haue  weeded 
away  all  wanton  and  woorthlesse  woordes  ;  1  haue  pared 
away  ail  pernicious  patches  ;  I  haue  chipt  and  chopt  of  all 
beastly  boughes  and  braches,  all  filthy  and  fuliom  phrases. 
Which  1  thinke  none  will  mutter  at  and  mislike,  but  sucho  as 
delight  more  to  drawe  of  the  dregs,  than  drinkf  of  the  deli- 
cate liquour."  He  then  promises,  *'  if  thou  shalt  thinke 
well  of  mee  and  thanke  mee,  I  stiall  (God  willyng,)  shortly 
as  conuenient  leisure  shall  serue,  either  augment  these  or 
publish  more  for  thy  deli:;ht  and  profile.  In  the  iiiean* 
tyme,  take  these  in  good  part  (1  beseech  thee)  whiche  were 
mad*  of  mee, 

Cum  mihi  vernarent  dubia  lanugine  malx. 
Vale." 

Warton  (Hist.  Eng.  Poetri/^  vol.  iii.  p.  433)  iustly 
observes  :  "  It  is  charitable  to  hope,  that  our  translator 
Timothy  Kendall  wasted  no  more  of  his  time  at  Staples 

Inii 


Tnn  in  culling  these  fugitive  bloSsonls.  Yet  he  lias 
annexed  to  these  versions  his  Trifles,  or  Juvenile  Epi- 
grams, which  are  dated  the  same  year." 

It  seems,  however,  that  his  contemporaries  were  of  a 
contrary  opinion,  since  W.  Seymour,  Gentleman,  of 
Gr.iy's  Inn,  George  Whetstones,  E.  G.  (probably  Edr 
ward  Guilpin,)  Abraham  Fleminge,  A.  W.  (perhaps 
Andrew  Willet,)  and  G.  L.  wrote  commendatory  verses 
on  the  volume.  The  latter  two  copies  in  Latin,  one  in 
hexameter  and  pentameter  lines,  the  other  a  Sapphick 
ode. 

Although  Kendall  professrs  to  have  translated  the 
greater  part  of  his  epigrams  from  Martial,  he  has  by  no 
means  confined  himself  to  that  author.  Some  are  from 
Pulix,  Pictoriiis,  Dardanius,  Angelas  Politianns,  Tex- 
tor,  Balbus,  Erasmus,  Ausonius,  and  others;  some  from 
the  Greek  Anthologia,  Beza,  Sir  Thomas  More,  Pon- 
tanus,  Buchanan,  Haddon,  Parkhurst,  and  Ascham. 
From  his  translations  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  give  any 
long  extracts  ;  for  Kendall's  sole  aim  appears  to  have 
been,  an  exact  version,  line  for  line,  from  the  Latin 
into  his  native  tongue  ;  nor  has  he  evinced  the  slightest 
idea  of  retaining  the  terseness  and  point  of  his  original 
author.  Perhaps  the  two  following  arc  among  the  best 
specimens  of  this  part  of  the  volume. 

Marti  A  I,. 

To  hymselfe. 

**  Martial,  the  thinges  that  do  attaine 
The  happy  life  be  these  1  finde  : 
The  riches  lef<,  not  got  with  paine  ; 
1  ne  fruitefull  ground,  the  quiet  minde. 

The  egall  frend  ;  no  grudge  no  strife  ; 
No  charge  of  rule,  nor  gouernaunce; 
Without  desease  the  healthful!  life; 
The  household  of  continuaunce. 

The  mean  dyet,  no  delicate  fare ; 
True  wisdome  ioynd  with  simplenes  ; 
The  night  discharged  of  all  care, 
Where  wine  the  wit  may  not  oppresse. 

The  faithfuU  wife  without  debate  ; 
Such  sleepes  as  may  beguile  the  night; 

Content 


153 

Content  thy  self  ^vith  thine  estate, 

Ne  wishe  for  death,  nor  feare  his  might,"  FoJ-  18,  b, 

B.  Dardanius. 
The  Description  of  lustice. 

*'  What  hight's  <hy  name,  thou  goddes,  fell  ? 

My  name  doeth  Justice  hight. 
Why  lookst  thou  fell  ?    tearfs,  plants  nor  bribes 

Maie  make  me  goe  from  ris^ht. 
Borne  of  what  stocke  ?  of  Gods  aboue. 

Thy  parent's  names  descrie  ? 
Measure  my  sire,  my  iDother  Truste, 

My  nurse   was  Penurie, 
A  babe  who  lulde  thee  in  her  lap, 

Fair  Prudence,  noble  dame. 
By  whom  doest  thou  the  guiltie  knowe  ? 

Judgement  doeth  shewe  the  same. 
Why  beares  thy  lefte  hande  baliaunCes  ; 

Thy  right,  a  shinyng  blade  ? 
The  one  doeth  ponder  causes  iuste  j 

To  plague  the  sworde  is  made. 
So  fewe  why  are  there  thee  to  ayde  ? 

Good  men  are  vanisht  quight.  n^ 

Who  doeth  thee  still  associate  ? 

Poore  Plainesse,  pure  and  bright. 
Why  is  thy  one  eare  open  wide, 

Thy  other  closed  faste  ? 
The  good,  they  alwaies  must  be  heard; 

The  bad,  they  must  be  caste. 
Why  in  apparel  1  art  thou  poore  ? 

Who  will  be  iuste  and  right. 
Shall  neuer,  while  he  lines,  become 

A  riche  and  wealthie  wij^ht."     Fol.  36. 

Probably  the  three  next  are  among  his  worst. 

Parkhukst. 
"  To  Candtdus, 

Poore  Proclus,  Martha  tooke  to  wife. 

Of  lofty  linnage  hie  : 
She  was  not,  Candidus,  his  wife, 

But  mistres  his,  perdie."     Fol.  97. 

*'The 


154 

"  The  Lover, 

Who  more  a  wretch  than  he 

Wliom  Loue  tormeiiteth  sore  ? 
With  scorchyng  heate  of  Cupid's  coales 

He  barneth  euermore."     Fol.  106,  b. 

"  Of  Loue. 

Loue  is  for  to  be  liked,  if 

Both  loue  so,  as  they  ought ; 
But  where  one  loues,  the  other  lothes, 

There  I^ue  is  vile  and  nought."     Fol.  105,  b. 

The  second  part  of  the  book,  entitled  1  rifles,  consists 
entirely  ot  Kendall's  own  compositions.  At  the  back  of 
the  title  is  the  following  extract  from  Cornelius  Galius  : 

"  Diversos  diversa  juvant,  non  omnibus  annis 
Omnia  conveniunt ;    res,  prius  ap(a,  nocet. 

Exultat  levitate  puer,  gnvitate  senectus, 
Inter  utrumque  nianens  st'^if  juvenile  decus. 

Hunc  taciturn  tristemque  deret,  fit  clarior  ille 
Laetitia,  et  linguae  garrulitate  suae." 

Considering  that  these  Trifles  were  **  devised  in  his 
yonng  and  tender  age,"  it  will  be  allowed  that  Kendall's 
quotation  is,  here,  very  pertinent. 

From  tliis  portion  of  the  volume  it  is,  that  we  learn 
the  few  particulars  of  the  author's  life  already  related. 
At  fol.  5,  b,  are  "  Verses  written  to  Ms  father  when  he 
was  scholler  in  JElon  ;"  at  fol.  14,  "  Freeeptes  written 
in  his  frend  Riehard  Woodward'' s  praier.  booke,  somtime 
his  companion  in  Oxford;  "and  at  fol.  30,  "  An  Epitaphe 
vpon  the  death  of  his  deare  father,  Wifliam  Kendall 
which  died  (hei/ng  cid  of  the  stone)  and  lyes  buried  at 
Northasion  in  Oxfordshire.^''  Besides  these  persons, 
he  addresses  his  uncle  Henry  Kendall ;  his  cousins  Paul 
Tooley,  Mary  Palmer,  and  John  Kendall ;  his  dear 
brother  (probably  by  marriage)  John  Sheppard,  of 
Gray's  Inn,  and  has  epitaphs  on  his  motlier  Allice  Ken- 
dal ;  his  aunt  Ellen  Kendall ;  the  Lady  Allice  Avenon, 
and  **  a  sorrowfull  sonet  vpon  the  death  of  Walter,  late 
erle  of  Essex."  He  addresses  also  two  short  pieces  to 
Henry  Knevet  gentleman,  the  same,  as  1  conjecture, 
celebrated  by  Borbonius  in  his  Nugcu. 

Our  readers  have  already  bad  a  taste  of  Kendall's 

powers 


155 

powers  of  transTation,  and  1  reafret  to  say  his  original 
compositions  will  not  advance  his  poetical  reputation. 
It  may,,  however^  be  stated  to  his  credit,  that  a  strong 
moral  sentiment  runs  throuifh  most  of  his  productions, 
and  that  he  has  followed  llie  same  rules  himself,  which 
in  his  preface  he  prescribe*!  to  those  authors  he  under- 
took to  make  speak  English.  Sometimes^  indeed,  a 
want  of  delicacy  ill  his  allusions  and  expressions  will 
obtrude  itself,  but  this  is  a  fault  too  prevalent  in  most  of 
our  English  epigrammatists,  particularly  at  the  period 
when  M  e  may  suppose  Kendall  wrote,  and^  it  liiay  justly 
be  attributed  more  to  the  taste  of  the  times  than  the  ill 
intentions  of  the  writer.  But  it  must  be  owned  by  all 
persons,  that  these  improprieties  occur  but  seldom,  in 
comparison  with  the  excellent  moral  precepts,  we  meet 
with  at,  nearly,  every  page.  Of  this  class  are  the  fol- 
lawipg; : 

*'  Commendation  and  praise  of  Vertue. 

By  riches  none  are  happie  made. 

For  riches  slide  awaie  ; 
Thou  got  with  sweate,  and  labour  greate, 

At  length,  yet  they  decaie. 
Faint,  faultryng,  fumblyng,  feble  age 

Derreaseth  sturdie  strength, 
Health  sickntsse  quailes,  and  beaiitie  braue 

Doeth  flit'yng  fade  at  length. 
Swoete  ticklyng  pleasure  tarries  not, 

Nor  maketh  any  staie, 
But  in  an  hower,  a  little  tyme, 

Doeth  vanishe  quight  awaie. 
But  Vertue  faire  adornes  the  mynde, 

And  perfect  doeth  remaine  ; 
She  stedfast  bides,  and  neuer  slides. 

Arid  naught  male  Vertue  staine. 
No  tyme  can  Vertue  faire  deface, 

She  after  death  endures. 
And  vs,  aboue  th(:  clustryng  cloudes, 

A  place  with  God  procures. 
Vertue  doeth  make  ts  blessed,  and 

A  happie  ende  doeth  giuc. 
And,  when  we  rotteen  bones  remaine. 

Yet  Vertue  mak«p  vs  liue."     Fob  8. 
'>ni»jV'  2  *'  Hon 


156 

**  How  to  get  the  Loue,  bothe  of  God  and  men. 

Who  leaucs  ;  who  loues  ;   who  Hues  ;  who  lends  ; 
Who  spares  ;  who  spies ;  who  speakes;  who  spends  ; 
Shall  purchase  to  hymself  the  ioue 
Of  men  beneath  and  God  aboue. 

Exposition. 

Who  leaues  to  lead  a  lothsome  life ; 

Who  loues  the  lazor  poore  to  feede  ; 

Who  Hues  in  luue,  and  hateth  strife  ; 

Who  lends  who  lackes  and  stands  in  neede  ; 

W'ho  spares  to  spende,  and  waxeth  wise  ; 

Who  spies  the  baite  and  shunnes  the  hookes  ;. 

Who  speakes  the  truthe  and  hateth  lies  ; 

Who  spends  his  tyme  in  sacred  byokes  ; — 

Hym  God  hymsplf  in  heauen  aboue, 

And  men  beneath  shall  like  and  Ioue."     Fol.  6,  b. 

We  now  pass  to  our  author's  wit,  which  is  generally 
Terj  poor. 

"  Of  Papistes. 

If  murdryng  monsters  mount  the  skie'j 

Then  papists  thither  packe,  perdic  !'*    Fol.  21. 

"  Of  Loue. 

Loue  worketh  woonders  great, 

Straunge  thinges  it  bringes  to  passe ; 

It  maketh  of  a  prudent  man 

A  very  doltish  asse !"    Fol.  5,  b. 

The  following  are  rather  better : 

**  Of  a  Lazcyer. 

Thou  saist  that  for  Lawier, 

Then  t  hee  none  may  be  better  : 
Nor  none  so  good  (say  I) — put  out 

The  third  and  second  letter."     Fol.  18,  b. 

Another, 

**  Wouldst  haue  raee  tell  what  law  thou  hast  ? 

Thou  hast  as  muche  as  need. 
An  old  saw  said,  need  had  no  law — 

No  more  hast  thou  indeed."    Fol.  26,  b. 

Few  of  our  readers,  perhaps,  would  guess  the  follow- 
ing enigma : 

*'  A  Cherrie. 


157 

**  A  Cherrie. 

A  red  skin  glisteryng  me  doeth  hide, 

1  doe  with  ioyce  abounde  ; 
Insteade  of  harte  I  holde  a  stone, 

Wherein  is  keniell  founde."     Fol.  27. 

I  will  conclude  this  article,  the  length  of  which 
nothing  but  the  rarity  of  the  book  could,  in  any  way, 
excuse,  with  another  riddle  somewhat  plainer  and  some- 
what better. 

«  Nix. 

More  white  I  am  then  plume  of  swan; 
Daughter  of  winter  colde  I  am  ; 
Lesse  harde  then  ice  conceal'd  am  I, 
Yet  not  lesse  colde  then  ice,  perdie. 
Thinner  then  mushrome  that  doeth  growe  ; 
To  water  thin,  heate  makes  me  goe. 
l1ie  letter  first,  take  from  my  name, 
And  nine  in  number  thou  doest  frame. 
If  this  woorde,  Cor^  thou  ad  to  me, 
The  blackest  birde  I  am  to  see."     Fol.  27. 

P.  B. 


f  The  most  Excellent  and  Famous  Histori/  of  the  most 
Renonmed  Knight,  Amadis  of  Greece,  surnam^d  the 
Knight  of  the  Burning  Sword,  son  to  Lisvart  of 
Greece,  and  the  fair  Onoloria  of  Trebisond.  Repre- 
senting his  Education  in  the  Court  of  King  Magadan y 
his  conquering  of  the  Defended  Mountain,  his  Cojn- 
bat  with  his  Grandfather  the  Emperor  Esplandian,  his 
killing  Trandalon  the  Ciclops,  and  falling  in  love  with 
jLucella  daughter  to  Alpatracy  King  of  Sicilj/,  his 
arrival  in  the  Isle  of  Argenes,  where  fie  put  an  end  to 
the  Enchantments  of  Queen  Zirfea,  his  assisting  hi^ 
Great-grandfather  King  Amadis  in  the  Island  of  the 
Great  S'lclades,  and  in  respect  to  him,  taking  on  him- 
self the  name  of  Amadis  of  Greece :  Together  with 
the  high  and  noble  Enterprizes  of  his  Cozen  Lucencio, 
Gradamart  son  to  the  King  of  the  GianCs  Island, 
Birmartes  son  to  the  King  of  Spain,  and  many  other 
Noble  Knights  and  Gallant  Ladies  ;  all  no  less  useful 
than  pleasant^     Jlumblj/  addrest  to  the  Beauties  of 

,  Great 


158 

Great  Brittain.  Bi/  a  Person  of  Quality.  Licen/fed 
according  to  ordfr.  Printed  for  J.  Deacon  at  the 
Atis:el  i>i  GuHtft'pur  street  without  Newoatc^  and  /, 
Bftire  at  the  Looking  Glass  on  London  Bridge.  1694. 
B.  I.  sm.  quarto,  pp.  220. 

This  is  a  translation  fronpi  the  sevenlli*  book  of  the 
Arnadis  cle  Gaule,  but  by  whom  executed,  I  do  not 
know.  lam  not  aware  of  any  earlier  edition  than  the 
present:  if  so,  this  could  not  have  been  rendered  into 
the  English  langua<;e  by  the  fashionable  translator  of 
romance,  Anty.  Munday,  as  he  flourished  about  a  hun- 
dred years  preceding  the  date  of  it.  We  are  then,  I 
fear,  lef^  in  the  dark  as  to  the  real  name  of  the  person  of 
quality  who  undertook  the  task  of  giving  the  adventures 
of  the  Knight  of  the  Burning  Sword  to  the  public  in  an 
English  dress.  The  ensuing  preface  follows  the  title- 
page. 

**  To  the  Beauties  of  Great  Britain. 

*'  To  you,  fair  Ladies,  does  our  younger  Amadis,  after 
his  traversing  many  vast  and  foreign  regions,  address  him- 
self, laden  -.vith  triumphant  spires,  and  crown'd  with  victo- 
rious  laurels  ;  all  which  he  humbly  lays  at  your  feet,  whom 
he  acknowledges  to  be  not  only  the  fairest,  but  also,  the 
kindest  and  best  natur'd  of  your  sex.  In  your  soft  arms  and 
silken  laps  he  hopes  to  find  that  repose  he  has  so  long  in 
vain  been  seeking  thro'  so.  many  hard  and  perillous  adven- 
tures :  And  these  hopes  of  his  are  much  encouraged,  by  his 
considering  the  favourable  reception  you  some  time  since  gave 
his  father  Lfsvart,  his  grandfather  Esplandian^  and  his 
great  grandfather  Amadis  of  Gaul,  King  of  Great  Britain, 
the  greatest  exemplar  of  constant  and  loyal  love  that  is  in  any 
history,  of  this  sort,  to  be  found.  If  therefore  you  will  gra- 
ciously condescend  to  his  request,  and  receive  him  into  your 
favorable  embraces,  he  here  makes  a  solemn  protestation, 
thai  all  his  future  endeavours  shall  wholly  be  directed  to 
procure  your  satisfaction  and  delight,  and  his  chief  arobi. 
tion  shall  be,  to  let  the  world  see  how  highly  he  values  the 
honour  of  being 

Your 

Amadis  of  Greece." 

*The  late  Mr.  Dutenswas  incorrect  in  his  account  of  this  ro- 
niance,  as  he  states  it  to  be  the  ninth  book  of  Amadis  de  Gaule.— 
Genealogies  des  Ueros  de  Roman. 

The 


159 

The  work  contains  63  chapters  (the  number  in  the 
French  edition,)  consisting  of  the  usual  proportion  of 
combats,  shipwrecks,  enchantments  and  ititri^gues.  At 
the  end  of  the  last  chapter,  a  second  part  is  promised,  if 
the  present  work  should  receive  encoura£rement ;  from 
the  want  of  that  encouragement  or  from  some  cause,  no 
second  part  ever  made  its  appcaratjce  in  a  translation, 
and  the  history,  which  ought  to  embrace  at  least  the 
eighth  book  of  Amadis  de  Gaule,  is  consequently  im- 
perfect. 

Mr.  Southey,  s'lxjaking  of  the  Spanish  romance, 
says,  "  In  Amadis  of  Greece  may  be  found  the  Zelmane 
"  of  the  Arcadia,  the  Masque  of  Cupid  of  the  Faery 
"  Queen,  and  the  Florizel  of  the*  Winter's  Tale.  These 
*'  resemblances  are  not  imaginary  (Florizel  indeed  is 
"  there  with  the  same  name) — any  person  who  will 
"  examine,  will  be  convinced  beyond  a  doubt  that 
"  Sidney.  Spenser,  and  Shakespeare,  each  of  them 
**  imitated  this  book, — was  ever  book  honoured  by  three 
"  such  imitators!" 

In  vain  would  any  person  search  for  the  Florizel  above 
alluded  to  in  this  work.  Florizel  is  the  hero  of  the 
9th  book  of  the  Amadis  de  Gaule,  in  which  the  name  of 
Amadis  de  Greece  is  scarcely  to  be  found :  so  that  Mr, 
S.  is  hardly  warranted  in  stating  that  the  Amadis  of 
Greece  is  so  fortunate  in  its  imitators. 

This  book  contains  a  few  miserable  wood-cuts,  aijd  is 
most  wretchedly  printed. 

W. 

5  Greenes  farevoell  to  Folly.  Sent  to  Covrtiers  and 
Schollers  as  a  president  to  warne  them  from  the  vaine 
delights  that  drnzoes  youth  on  to  repentance.  Sero 
sed  serib.  Robert  Greene,  Vtriusque  Academics  in 
Artihus  magister.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas 
Scarlet  for  T.  GubbinandT.  Newman.  1591.  qto. 
extends  to  M.  3. 

In  forming  the  list  of  Green's  worksf  the  earliest  date 

*  It  has  been  always  conjectured  that  Shakspeare  borrowed  his 
plot  from  Green's  '  Dorastus  and  Fawnia.'  The  latter  was  pro- 
bably the  imitator  of  the  romance. 

t  Ccns.  Lit.  vol.  p.  11. 

of 


160 

of  the  *'  Farewell  to  Folly"  1  could  then  give  was  1617. 
The  present  ropy,  with  six  other  pieces  equally  rare, 
bad  lately  a  vellnni  cover  written  upon  "  Sriiall  smale 
bookes  bonnde  together,"  and  appeared  to  lu've  b^-en 
collected  before  1600.  It  is  in  the  possi'ssion  of  Mr. 
Phelpn,  from  whose  collection  I  have  derived  much 
valuable  assistance  on  this  and  many  other  occasions. 

The  dedicalion  runs  "to  the  honorable  minded  gentleman, 
Robj^rt  Carey,  Esquire:  Robert  Greene  wisheth  as  many 
good  fortunes  as  the  honor  of  his  thoughts  doe  merite. 
Rauing  waded,  noble  minded  courtier,  th:ough  the  censures 
of  many  both  honourable  and  worshipful!  in  comitting  the 
crt'dite  of  my  bookes  to  their  honourable  opinions  as  1 
haue  found  some  of  them  not  onely  honourably  to  patronize 
my  workes,  but  curteouslie  to  passe  ouer  my  vnskiifull  pre- 
sumption with  silence,  so  generally  I  am  indebted  to  all  gen- 
tlemen that  with  fauors  haue  ouerslipt  my  follies  :  Follies  I 
tearme  them,  because  their  subjects  haue  bene  superflciall, 
and  their  intents  amorous,  yet  mixed  with  such  morrall  prin- 
ciples that  the  preceptes  of  vertue  seemed  to  craue  pardon 
for  all  those  vaine  opinions  lotie  set  downe  in  hir  periods. 
Seeing  then  (worthie  Macxnas  of  letters)  my  workes 
haue  beene  counted  follies,  and  follies  the  fruit  of  youth, 
many  yeere«  hauing  bitten  me  with  experience,  and  age 
growing  on  bidding  nu-e  Pctere  grauiora,  to  satisfie  the 
hope  of  my  friends,  and  to  make  the  world  prinie  to  my  pri. 
uate  resolution,  I  haue  made  abookc  called  my  Farezcell  to 
Follies  :  wlerein  as  1  renounce  loue  for  a  foole,  and  vauitie 
as  a  vaine  too  Tnfit  for  a  gentleniaai,  so  I  discouer  the  generall 
abuses  that  are  ingrafted  in  the  mindes  of  courtiers  and  schollers, 
with  a  colling  card  of  counsell,  iuppressing  those  actioiis  that 
£ti'aie  from  the  golden  meane  ol'vertue.  Hut  (right  worhip- 
full)  some  are  so  peremptorie  in  their  opinions,  that  if  Diogenes 
stirre  lis  stumpes,  thvy  will  saie,  it  is  to  rootke  dancers,  not 
to  be  wanton  ;  that  it  the  fox  preach  lis  to  spie  which  is  the 
fattest  goose,  not  to  be  a  ghostly  father  ;  that  if  Greene  write 
his  Farezcell  to  Follie,  tis  to  blind  the  world  with  follie, 
the  more  to  shadow  his  ownc  follie.  My  reply  to  theee 
thought  searchers  is  This,  1  cannot  Martiriixe,  swtare  by  my 
faie  in  a  pulpit,  and  rap  out  gogs  wounds  in  a  lauc-rue,  faine 
loue  when  1  haue  no  charitie,  or  protest  an  open  resolution  • 
of  good,  whtn  1  intend  to  be  priuately  ill  ;  but  in  all  pub. 
like  protvstations  my  wordes  and  my  deedos  iutnpe  in  one 
simpathie,  and  my   tongue  and  ray  thoughts  are  relatiues. 


161 

But  omitting  these  digressions  (right  worshipful)  to  mf 
book,  which  as  it  is  the  farewell  to  my  follies,  so  it  is  the  last 
I  meaue  euer  to  publish  of  such  superficiall  labours,  which  I 
haue  aducntured  to  shroude  vnder  the  shelter  of  your  wor- 
shippes  patronage,  as  vnder  his  wing,  whose  generall  loue 
bought  with  honorable  deserts,  may  defend  it  from  the  iniurie 
of  euerie  enuious  enemie.  I  can  shadowe  my  presumptioa 
with  no  other  excuse  but  this,  that  seeking  to  finde  out  some 
«jne  courtier  whose  vertuous  actions  had  made  him  the  hope  of 
many  honours^  at  whose  feete  I  might  laie  downe  the  follies 
of  my  youth,  and  bequeath  to  him  all  the  profitable  fruits  of 
my  ensuing  age,  finding  none  that  either  fame  could  warrant 
me,  or  my  own  priuat  fancie  perswade  to  be  of  more  hope 
then  your  selfe,  I  set  downe  my  rest,  and  ventured  boldly  on 
your  worship's  fauour,  which  if  as  I  haue  found  before,  1  ob- 
taine  now,  I  shall  thinke  myselfe  as  fortunate  in  getting  so 
honorable  a  patrone  for  my  new  indeuours,  as  vnhappie  for 
blemishing  my  forepassed  youth  with  such  frioolous  labours* 
And  thus  hoping  my  honest  resolution  to  do  well  shall  be 
countenanst  with  your  worship's  curteous  acceptance,  I 
commit  you  to  the  Almightie.  Your  worship's  in  all  humble 
seruice,  Robert  Greene." 

Then  foIlci"U's  an  address : 

"  To  the  Gentlemen  Students  of  both  Vniuersities  health, 
*'  Gentlemen  and  Studentes  (my  olde  friendes  and  com- 
panions) I  presented  you  alate  with  my  Mourning  garment; 
howe  you  censure  of  the  cloth  or  cut  I  knowe  not,  but  the 
printer  hath  past  them  all  out  of  his  shop,  and  the  pedler 
founde  them  too  deare  for  his  packe,  that  he  was  faine  to 
bargain  for  the  life  of  Tomliuolin  to  wrappe  vp  his  sweete 
powders  in  those  vnsauorie  papers  :  If  my  garment  did  any 
Gentleman  good  I  am  glad,  if  it  offended  none  I  am  proud,  if 
good  man  find  fault  that  hath  his  wit  in  his  eyes  and  can 
checke  what  he  can  not  amend,  mislike  it,  I.  am  cart les,  for 
Diogenes  hath  taught  me,  that  to  kicke  an  asse  when  he 
strikes,  were  to  smell  of  the  asse  for  meddling  with  the  asse, 
Ilauing  therefore  Gentlemen  (in  my  opinion)  mourned  long 
enough  for  the  misdeedes  of  my  youth,  least  I  shoulde  seeme 
too  Pharisaicall  in  my  fastes,  or  like  our  deare  EngliS'h 
breethrcn  that  measure  their  praiers  by  the  houre  glasse,  fall 
a  sleepe  in  preaching  of  repentance.  I  haue  noweleftof  the 
intent  and  am  come  to  the  effect,  and  after  my  mourning  pre. 
sent  you  with  my  Farewell  to  Follies,  an  vltimura  vale  to  al 
yootitful  vanities :  wishing  al  Gentlemen,  as  vrel  Courtiers  as 
VOL.  IV.  M  Schollers, 


162 

Schollers,  to  take  view  of  those  blemishes  that  dishonor  yoatTi 
vith  the  quaint  shew  of  pleasant  delights.     What  a  glorious 
shew  would  the  spring  present  if  the  beautie  of  hir  floures 
were  not  nipt  with  the  frostes  ?  how  would  Autumne  boast 
of  hir  fruites  if  she  were  not  disguised  with  the  fall  of  the 
leafe,  and  how  would  the  vertues  of  jouth  shine  (polished 
with  the  ripe  conceit  of  wit)   if  they  were  not  eclipsed  with 
the  cloudes  of  vanity.     Then,  svrette  companions  and  loue- 
mates  of  learning!  looke  into  my  Farewfl,  andyou  shall  find 
the  poisons  which  infect  young  yeares,  and  turning  but  the 
leafe  reade  the  antidotes  to  preuent  the  force  of  such  deadly 
confections.     Lay  open  my  life  in  your  thought  and  beware 
by  my  losse,  scorne  not  in  your  age  what  you  haue  learned  in 
your  accidiiice,    though  stale  yet  as  sure  as  check.     Felix 
quern  faciunt  aliena  pericula  cautum.     Such  wags  as  haue 
bene  wantons  with   me  and  haue  marched  in  the   Mercers 
booke  to  please  their  Mistris  eye  with  their  brauerie,  that  a« 
the  frolike  phrase  is,  haue   made  the  tauerne  to  sweat  with 
riotons  expences,    that  haue  spent  their  wits  in  courting  of 
their  sweetehearts,  and   emptied  their   purses  by  being  too 
prodigall,  let  them  at  last  looke  backe  to  the  follies  of  their 
youth,  and  with  me  say,  farewell  vnto  all  such  vanities.     But 
those  young  nouices  that  haue  not  yet  lost  the  maidenhead  of 
their  innocency,  nor  haue  not  heard  the  melody  of  such  allu- 
ring syrens,  let  them  read  that  they  may  loth,  and  that  seeing 
into  the  depth  of  their  follie  they  may  the  more  detest  that 
•whose  poysoned  sweetenesse  they  neuer  tasted.     Thus  gene- 
rally I  woulde  wish  all  to  beware  by  me  to  say  with  me,  farewell 
to  follie.     Then  shoulde  I  glorie  that  my  seede  sowne  with  so 
much  good  will  shoulde  yeeld  a  haruest  of  so  great  aduan- 
tage.     But,  by  your  leaue  Genflemen,   some  ouer  curious 
will  carpe  and  say  that  if  I  were  not  beyond,  I  would  nbt  be 
so  bold  to  teach  my  betters  their  dutie,  and  to  shew  them 
the   sunne    that   haue   brighter    eyes    than    myselfc ;     well 
tMogenes  tolde  Alexander  of  his  follie  and  yet  he  was  not  a 
king.     Others  will  flout  and  ouer   read  euerie  line  with  a 
frompe  and  say  tis  scuruie,  when  they  themselues  are  such 
scabd  Jades  that  they  are  like  to  dye  of  the  fazion  ;  but  if 
they  come  to  write  or  publish  anie  thing  in  print,  it  is  eithec 
di-itild   out  of  ballets,  or  borrowed  of  theologicall   poets, 
which  for  their  calling  and  grauitie,  being  loth  to  haue  anio 
prophane  phaphlets  passe  vnder  their  hand  get  some  other 
Batillus  to  set  his  name  to  their  verses :  Thus  is  the  asse  made 
proud  by  this  vnder  hande  brokerie.     And  he  that  can  not 
write  true  EngHshe  without  the  heipe  of  Clearkes  of  Parish 

Churches, 


16*3 

tiliurches,  will  needes  makehimselfe  the  father  of  Intertades. 
t)  tis  a  iollie  matter  when  a  man  hath  a  familiar  stile  and  can 
endite  a  whole  year  and  neuer  be  beholding  to  art ;  but  to 
bring  Scripture  to  prone  any  thing  he  sayes,  and  kill  it  dead 
with  the  text  in  a  trilling  subiect  of  loue,  I  tell  you  is 
no  small  peece  of  cunning.  As  for  example,  two  loiters  oit 
the  stage  arguing  one  an  other  of  vnkindnesse,  his  mistris 
runnes  ouer  him  with  this  canonicall  sentence  ;  A  man's  con- 
science is  a  thousande  witnesses;  and  hir  knight  againe 
excuseth  him  selfe  with  that  saying  of  the  Apostle,  Loue  couer- 
eth  the  multitude  of  sinnes,  I  think  this  was  but  simple 
of  Scripture.  In  charitie  be  it  spoken  I  am  petswaded  the 
Sexten  of  Saint  Giles  without  Creplegatcj  would  haue  beene 
ashamed  of  such  blasphemous  rhetoricke.  But  not  to  dwell 
in  the  imperfection  of  these  dunces,  or  trouble  you  with  a 
long  commentarie  of  such  witlesse  cockescombes,  Gentlemen, 
I  humbly  intreat  pardon  for  myselfe,  that  you  will  fauour  my 
farewell  and  take  the  presentation  of  my  booke  to  your 
iudiciall  insights  in  good  part,  which  courtesie  if  I  finde  at 
your  hands  as  I  little  dout  of  it,  I  shall  rest  yours  as  euer  I 
haue  done« 

Robert  Greene.'* 

The  running  title  of  the  work  is  "  Greene  his  farewell 
to  FoUie,"  and  the  story  is  fixed  at  the  period  "  when 
the  state  pf  Italie  was  pestered  with  the  mutinous  factions 
of  the  Guelphes  and  Ghibellines,"  which  occasioned  the 
senate  of  Florence  to,  wear  coats  of  steel,  and  those  of  the 
house  of  Farneze,  who  were  not  interested  for  either  of 
the  contending  parties,  to  leave  the  city.  Of  this  little 
society  the  following  is  the  description. 

*'  Thechiefe  of  these  was  leronimo  Farneze,  a  noble  man, 
honorable  for  his  parentage,  and  honoured  for  his  rertue. 
One  that  in  his  youth  armed  his  actions  with  prowesse,  and  ia 
his  age  made  a  proofe  of  his  life  by  wisdome,  who  discouer- 
iog  the  miserie  of  time  by  experience,  founde  that  sweeter  was 
the  deaw  that  dropt  from  peace  than  the  showers  that  powred 
downe  from  wars,  that  the  garland  of  Mercuric  was  more 
precious  than  the  helmet  of  Mars,  that  quiet  and  content 
sooner  rested  vnder  the  marble  altar  of  Pallas  than  vnder  the 
siluer  targets  of  Bellona,  not  that  the  nobleman  thought  it 
dishonorable  to  be  martiall,  but  that  he  counted  it  prodigall  to 
be  factious :  to  auoide  therefore  all  suspition  that  might  insue  by 
his  residence  in  so  troublesome  a  citie,  setting  his  household 
M  2  affaires 


afiaires  in  some  good  order  accompanied  with  his  wife,  three 
daughters  and  foure  young  gentlemen  allied  Tnto  him  by 
afiinitie,  hee  departed  from  Florence,  seated  himselfe  in  a 
farme  of  his  about  sixe  miles  distant  from  Vienna  :  the  eldest 
of  his  daughters  was  named  Margaret,  the  seconde  Fraunces, 
the  youngest  Katherine,  all  which  as  ioyning  in  a  sympathie 
of  their  parents  propagation,  were  beholden  to  Nature  for 
beauty,  to  Fortune  for  wealth,  and  to  the  Gods  for  wisedom« 
and  vertue :  the  young  Gentlemen  were  these,  Seignior  Pe- 
ratio,  Seignior  Bernardinos,  Seignior  Cosimo,  and  Messleur 
Benedetto,  all,  as  I  said  before,  allied  to  Farneze  by  aflinitie 
and  therfore  honorable,  and  directing  the  course  of  their 
liues  after  his  compasse  and  therefore  vertuous." 

Retired  to  a  grange  in  a  melancholy  situation,  tbe 
effects  of  solitude  are  met  bya  spirited  conversation,  which 
forms  the  first,  second,  and  third  discourse  of  P'oUy, 
illustrated  by  the  tales  of  Peratio,  Cosimo,  and  Bernardi- 
nos, which  last  is  levelled  against  gluttony.     It  follows  : 

**  Bernardino's  tale.—  In  the  citie  of  Auspurg  in  Germaine 
there  ruled  not  long  since  a  Duke  whose  name  for  reuerence  I 
conceale,  and  therefore  will  tearme  him  Don  Antonio,  a  man 
of  Tery  honorable  parentage,  but  so  giuen  to  the  filthy  vice 
of  dronkennesseas  he  almost  suhuerted  the  state  of  the  cille, 
with  his  gluttonies,  for  oftimes  he  fell  into  tyranousand  bar- 
barous cruelties,  as  one  that  had  martiall  law  in  his  power, 
and  other  whiles  gaue  wrong  sentence  against  the  innocent, 
as  his  humour  fitted,  which  excesse  had  led  him.  But  aboue 
all  the  rest,  a  poore  man  hauing  a  matter  to  plead  before 
him,  which  he  was  acertained  by  law  should  goe  on  his  side. 
Don  Antonio  comming  dronke  to  the  place  of  iudgement, 
sleeping  in  his  surfets,  neuer  considered  the  equitie  of  the 
cause,  but  gaue  sentence  against  the  poore  man,  and  con- 
demned him  in  so  great  a  summe,  as  scarce  all  his  moueablea 
were  able  to  discharge,  well  the  verdict  giuen  he  had  no 
remedy  but  to  abide  the  censure  of  the  iust-iudge,  and  to 
make  sale  of  all  that  he  had  to  answer  his  condemnation  : 
-which  done  so  little  remayned  that  hee  had  nothing  left  to 
maintaine  his  wife  and  children,  wherupon  pouertie  being  the 
heauiest  burdpn  a  man  can  beare,  presented  vnto  him  a  glass© 
of  many  miseries,  which  were  apparent  to  insue  by  distressed 
want,  wherein  after  the  poore  wretch  had  a  long  while 
gazed  he  fell  to  despalre,  that  flinging  into  his  backe  side,  he 
toke  the  altar  out  of  his  stable,  and  running  into  the  field 
went  to  hang  himselfe  io  a  thicket  bard  adioyning  io  hit 

house. 


mo 

house,  Tvliere  yet  a  little  entering  into  consideration  with 
himselfe,  he  began  thus  to  debate,  '*  Infortunate  Rustico,  for 
SQ  we  will  terme  him,  how  art  thou  oppressed  with  sundrie 
passions,  distres  haling  thee  on  to  despaire,   and  the  care  of 
thy  sotile  willing  thee  rather  to  choose  pouertie  than  hell ; 
well  did  Tymon  of  Athens  see  the  miserie  of  man's  life,  when 
hee  bought  a  peece  of  ground,  wherein  hee  placed  gibbets 
and  spent  his  time  in  such  desperate  philosophie  as  to  per- 
ewade  his  friendes  to  hang  themselues,  so  to  auoidethe  immi- 
nent perilles  of  innumerable  misfortunes,   so  Rustico  seeme 
thou   an  Athenian,  be  one  of  Tymon's  friendes,  listen  to  his 
doctrine,   follow  his  counsell,  preuent   miserie  with   death. 
But   alas   this  is  not  sufficient,  for  in  freeing  thyselfe  from 
calamitie,  thou  leaueth  thy  wife  and  children  in  a  thousand 
sorrowes,  and  further  thou  cuttest  off  all  hope  of  reuenges. 
Reuenge,  yea  reuenge  Rustico,    for  assure  thyselfe  if  thou 
liuest  not,  yet  God  will  reuenge,  haue  two  sinnes  escaped  vn- 
punished,  hath  not  the  accursed  Duke  to  his  drunken  messe 
added  iniustice,  yes,  and  therefore  deserues  to  be  reuenged 
with  thin-e  owne  hand,  let  examples  arme  thee  to  the  like 
attempt.     Philip  King  of  Macedonia  was  slaine  by  a  meane 
gentleman,  Pausanias,  because  he  would  not  let  him  hau« 
justice  against  Antipater,  who  had  offred  him  wrong.     De- 
metrius hauing  receiued  many  requests  of  his  poore  subiects, 
as  he  passed  ouer  a  bridge  threwe  all  their  supplicatiotis  into 
the  water,  for  which  cause  hee  became  so  odious  to  his  sub- 
iects that  they  suffered  Pyrrhus  his  enemie  to  driue  him  out 
©f  his  kingdome   without  battell.     Ferdinando  the  fourth 
putting  to  death  a  knight  more  for  anger  than  anie  iust  cause, 
the  gentleman  at  the  sentence  cried  out,  Iniurious  emperor, 
I  cite  thee  to  appeare  before  the  tribunall  seate  of  God,  to 
answere  this  wrong  within  thirtie  daies,  on  the  last  of  which 
expired  tearme  the  Emperour  died  :  then  comfort  thyselfe, 
Rustico,  let  not  despaire  arme  thee  to  such  an  heathenish  re- 
solution, rather  Hue  to  reuenge  than  die  to  double  thy  miserie, 
and  seeing  the  Duke  hath  dealt  thus  hardly,  vse  him  as  Alex- 
ander Seuerus  handled  his  secretarie,  who  beeinga  caterpiller 
in  the  court  and  selling  the  fauourable  lookes  of  hisfmaisterfor 
coyne,  promising  poore  men  to  prosecute  their  sutes,  when 
he  neuer  mooued  their   cause :  at  last  in  requitall  of  this 
treacherous   dealing  was  tied  to  a  post  and  choaked  with 
smoake,  hauing  a  proclamation  made  before  liim  by  sound  of 
trumpet,  that  they  which  sell  smoake  shoulde  so  perishe  with 
emoake."  The  poore  rnan  from  these  plaintes  fell  into  teares, 
that  ouercome  with  the  passions  hee  fell  a  sleepe,  where  in  a 

dreamy 


166 

dreame  was  by  God  rcucaled  vnto  him  the  means  of  reuenge, 
as  soone  as  lie  awoake  and  called  vnto  minde  the  vision,  think* 
ing  it  to  be  no  fantasticke  illusion  of  the  bray  ne,  but  a  strickt 
commaunde  from  the  heauenly  powers  wente  homo  and  waxed 
contraryc  vnto  his  woonted  custome  verymerrye,  frequenting 
dayly  the  Duke's  palace,  where  giuinghimselfe  vnto  drinking 
he  l)ecame  in  time  to  bee  in  some  faiiour  with  the  Duke,  who 
neuer  remembered  that  hce  sat  in  iudgment  against  the  poore 
man.  On*  a  time  seeing  that  oportunitie  fauoured  him,  he 
requested  the  Duke  that  as  he  went  on  hunting  he  would 
take  the  paines  to  visit  his  poore  house,  where  he  should 
finde  no  daintie  faire  but  onely  that  he  durst  promise  a  cup 
of  good  wine.  This  worde  was  enough  to  perswade  the 
Duke  to  a  greater  matter,  so  that  he  granted  to  come.  The 
poore  man  glad  that  his  purpose  was  like  to  take  effect  and 
made  a  sale  of  all  that  hee  had,  ouen  to  his  verie  shirt,  to  the 
great  sorow  of  his  wife,  and  wonder  of  his  neighbours  which 
knew  not  his  pretence,  as  soone  as  he  had  pretilie  furnished 
himself  with  mony  he  bought  great  store  of  excellent  and 
delicate  viandes  of  strong  and  pleasant  wine  conuaied  them 
home  to  his  house,  whether  within  two  dales  after  the  Duke 
foresent  his  cooke,  certifieng  the  poore  man  that  he  would 
dine  with  him,  who  prouiding  most  sumptuous  fare  set  all  his 
wealth  vpon  the  table  at  one  dinner,  and  intertained  the 
Duke  with  such  a  heartle  welcome  that  he  not  onely  wondered 
where  Rustico  got  such  store  of  victuals  but  gaue  great 
thankes  for  his  good  cheere.  Rustico  serued  in  wine  ia 
such  abuudaunce,  that  Don  Antonio  fell  to  his  olde  vice  of 
dronkennes  and  in  such  sort  as  he  neuer  tooke  so  much  in 
his  life  ;  the  poore  man  seeing  him  take  his  drinke  so  freely, 
yment  to  one  of  his  trumpetters,  and  told  him  that  the  Duke 
commanded  hee  shoulde  by  sounde  of  trumpet  presently  sunu 
Dion  all  the  citizens  to  appeare  at  his  house  eythcr  without 
dfclaie  or  excuse,  which  commande  hee  forthwith  executed, 
ond  the  burgomaisters  &  chiefe  men  of  the  citie  meruailing 
what  this  should  ineane,  yet  hasting  to  the  house  of  Rustico 
they  found  a  scadolde  erected  at  the  doore,  where  after  they 
had  stayed  awhile  Rustico  came  foorth  and  began  to  speake  in 
this  manner : 

**  Worthie  Citizens  and  Burgomasters  of  Auspourg,  I 
knoweyou  meruaile  what  the  cause  of  your  comming  is,  espe- 
cially seeing  mee  that  am  poore  and  vnlettered  prepare  to  offer 
an  oration  to  such  politike  gouernours,  but  it  is  the  care  of  my 
countrie  and  especially  of  this  citie,  which  is  like  to  ruinate 
through  the  want  of  the  possession  of  a  perfect  magistrate 

that 


I6f 

that  driues  me  to  this  resolute  aod  desperate  attempte  ;  th^ 
dutie  of  a  magistrate,  as  I  haue  heard  a  certaine  philosopher 
should  set  downe,  consisteth  in  tliree  especiall  poiiites,  in 
ruling,  tearhlng,  and  iudging,  that  hee  be  wise  to  gouerne, 
vertous  to  giue  insarnple  and  impartialt  to  judge,  for,|as  Cicero 
saith,  sooner  shall  the  course  of  nature  faile  than  the  subiects 
will  leaue  to  follow  the  steps  of  their  prince.  If  then  (hat 
commonwealth  be  happy  that  is  gouerned  by  such  a  king,  in 
what  distresse  is  that  citie  that  wanteth  such  a  magistrate, 
and  hath  one  that  neither  ruleth,  teacheth,  or  doth  iustice, 
but  censures  all  things  by  the  pallet.  Philip  of  Macedonia 
beeing  desired  by  an  olde  woman  to  heare  her  complaint, 
answered  hee  had  no  leisure.  TJien,  quoth  she,  be  not  king, 
meaning  that  a  prince  ought  to  haue  more  care  ouer  the  affairs 
of  the  commonwealth  then  oner  his  own  priuate  busines. 
Then  worthie  citizens,  what  may  that  citie  sale  whose  gouer- 
nour  is  addicted  to  his  own  pleasure,  that  delights  not  ia 
iustice  but  in  superfluity,  that  honors  not  the  seate  of  iudgment 
with  philosophic  but  poluteth  the  place  with  dronkenesse, 
that  studieth  not  in  the  iawe  but  his  library  is  in  the  kitchen, 
that  seeketh  not  to  learne  wisdome  but  to  gorge  his  stomack 
%vith  delicates  ;  such  a  one,  worthie  citisens,  haue  we  for  our 
<luke,  our  gouernour,  our  magistrate."  And  as  hee  vttered 
that  word,  his  poore  wife  and  children  dragged  the  Duke  vpon 
the  scaffolde,  who  was  all  besmeared  in  his  owne  vomite  and 
resembling  rather  a  brute  beast  then  a  man,  bred  loathsomnes 
to  all  the  people  :  which  the  poore  man  taking  for  his  aduan. 
tage,  cried  out :  "  See  Burgomasters  and  Citisens  of  Aus- 
pourg,  your  duke,  your  magistrate,  your  gouernour,  who  is 
come  upon  the  scatt'olde  to  heare  the  complaints  of  the  widow 
and  fatherlesse  and  to  minister  iudgement.  This  is  the  man 
that  condemned  me  in  the  halfe  of  my  goods  by  iniustice,  and 
the  other  halfe  I  haue  solde  to  present  you  this  spectacle  j 
the  one  halfe  he  gaue  awaie  beeing  dronken,  and  the  other, 
this  daie  hee  hath  consumed  in  gluttony.  Now,  citizens, 
shame  you  not  at  such  a  sight,  what  shall  Germanie, 
France,  Italy,  and  all  the  bordering  cities  report  of  our 
towne  ?  What  straunger  will  desire  to  traffique  where  there 
is  such  a  glutton  ?  what  citie  can  ioy  where  there  is  such  a 
gouernour  ?  If  you  suffer  this,  the  commonwealth  is  like  to 
ruinate,  and  you  and  your  children  like  to  beare  the  burthen 
of  a  superfluous  tyrant :  See  what  Rustico  hath  done  for 
his  countrie,  now  vse  him  as  you  please."  The  Burgomaisters 
by  a  general  assent,  gaue  commandement  that  he  should  be 
>ncouered  vpoa  the  scafifold  til  be  came  to  himself,  and  in 

the 


168 

the  meane  time  they  assembled  themselues  and  determined  his 
rxile.  The  Duke,  after  he  had  taken  two  or  three  houres 
sleepe,  finding  himself  vpon  an  open  scaffolde,  was  ashamed, 
but  hearing  what  had  happened  to  him  by  the  meanes  of  Rus- 
tico,  and  hovr  the  Burgomaisters  had  rcsulued  on  his  banish- 
ment, as  one  feeling  the  horrour  of  the  fact,  desperatly  went 
into  the  poore  man's  backe  side  and  hanged  himselfe,  which 
newes  being  brought  to  the  Burgomaisters,  with  a  general 
voice  they  created  Rustico  gouernour  of  the  citie." 

At  Ihe  conclusion  of  this  parly,  to  prevent  the  cook 
being  cholerick,  they  go  to  dinner,  "  and  so,"  says  the 
author,  "  for  this  time  we  will  leaue  them.    Finis," 

J.H. 

5  A  Ci/yres  Garland.  For  the  Sacred  Forehead  of  our 
late  Soueraigne  King  James,  hy  Hugh  Holland, 
P.  Quid.  Naso.  Infcelix  hahitum  temporis  huius 
habe.  London,  printed  for  Simon  Waterson. 
M.DCXX  V.    qto.  12  leaves. 

Hugh  Holland  was  born  at  Denbigh  about  1563.  He 
was  bred  at  Westminster  school  (says  Wood)  while 
Camden  taught  there,  a  circumstance  alluded  to  in  the 
present  elegy,  which,  upon  the  same  authority,  seems 
the  only  one  of  his  pieces  that  has  been  printed.  Of  his 
manuscripts  some  of  them  were  presented  to  the  King,  as 
in  the  present  dedication,  *'  to  ray  Lord  the  Dvke  of 
Bvckingham's  grace,"  he  says  ; 

*•  It  was  you  that  led  me  by  the  hand,  not  once,  nor 
twice,  to  kisse  that  awful  hand  of  his,  to  which  1  durst  not 
haue  else  aspired.  With  what  sweetenesse  and  brauery  the 
great  majesty  of  Brittanie  imbraced  then  his  meanest  vassal, 
and  those  my  humble  compositions,  our  young  souereigne 
(then  prince  of  my  country)  your  Grace  and  the  honourable 
Lords  then  present,  perhaps  remember ;  sure  I  am  1  can 
neuer  forget,  and  if  I  do,  let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cun, 
ning  ;"  and  his  verses  commence, 

*'  Who  now  wil  reade  my  rimes,  and  with  ©seeding 
'    Sweet  grace  and  accent,  mend  them  in  the  reading : 
So  would  he  praise  the  manner  and  the  matter. 
Nor  did  they  him,  he  rather  them  did  flatter. 
For  with  his  sugred  lips  my  eares  he  charmed. 
And  with  his  snowy  hand  my  lips  he  warmed. 

But 


169 

But  now  the  frost  of  death  my  heart  bath  chilled, 
My  blood  is  through  my  eyes  to  teares  distilled. 
His  ague  hath  me  whole,  that  for  enditing, 
I  neither  haue  a  head,  nor  hand  for  writing. 
Great  Britany,  that  knowes  no  other  bounders 
But  heav'n  and  sea,  lost  lately  both  her  founders  : 
My  master,  king  of  armes  by  man's  appointment, 
My  soueraign,  king  of  peace  by  God's  annointment. 
Oh  that  my  soueraigne  had  bin  longer  liucd, 
Or  had  my  Camden  yet  a  while  suruiued  : 
With  angell's  quill,  what  else  can  reach  his  glory  ? 
To  write  this  mortall  god's  immortall  story  : 
But  in  that  other  world,  which  neuer  endeth, 
Hina  with  hi§  Lord's  his  herald,  he  attendeth." 

The  author  also  introduces  himself  and  family  in  the 
following  passage. 

**  Why  was  the  fatall  spinster  so  vnthrifty. 

To  draw  my  third  foure  yeares  to  tell  and  fifty  ? 

Why  did  not  Atropos  in  peeces  rauil 

My  string  of  life,  and  cut  it  with  my  nauill  ? 

Curs'd  be  the  day  that  I  was  borne,  and  cursed 

The  nights  that  haue  so  long  my  sorrows  nurced : 

Yet  griefe  is  by  the  surer  side  my  brother, 

The  child  of  payne,  and  Payne  was  eke  my  mother, 

Who  children  had,  the  arke  had  men  as  many, 

Of  which,  myselfe  except,  now  breathes  not  any  i 

Nor  Vrsula  my  deere,  nor  Phil  my  daughter, 

Amongst  vs  death  hath  made  so  dire  a  slaughter. 

Them  and  my  Martyn  have  I,  wretch,  suruiued, 

But  all  their  deaths  my  soueraigne's  hath  retriued. 

JEach  yeare,  moneth,  weeke,   day,  boure,  I  loose  som« 

fleeces. 
So  from  my  selfe,  and  all,  I  part  by  peeces :  *  y, 

The  whilst  1  stand  in  confrouersy,  whether  -s 

More  sigh  and  weepe,  I  j  or  the  winde  and  weather."       ') 

The  '*  third  four  years  to  tell  and  fifty"  shows  our 
author's  age  to  have  been  sixty-two,  and  may  serve  as 
some  apology  for  the  string  of  conceits  which  this  off- 
spring of  his  muse  displays.     He  died  at  Westminster, 

*  This  idea  is  beautifully  enlarged  upou  in  an  elegy  by  Thom- 
son. 

1633, 


170 

1633,  and   was  burled  at  the  abbey  church  of  St. 
Peter.  * 


f  T/ie  Honorable  Repxtation  of  a  Souldier :  With  a 
JSJorall  Report,  of  the  Vertues,  Offices,  and  (hy  abuse) 
the  Disgrace  of  his  profession.  [Wood  cut  of  a 
warriour,  half  body,  in  armour  witli  a  sash.]  Drawn 
out  of  the  liuesjdociwunts,  and  disciplines,  of  the  most 
renowned  Nomaine,  Grecian,  and  other  famous  Mar- 
tialistes.  By  George  fVhetstone,  Gent,  Malgre  de 
Fortune.  Imprinted  at  London,  by  Richard  tones  : 
dwelling  neere  vnto  Jlolburne  Bridge,  1585.  q(o.  to 
sig.  F  ij. 

The  dedication  wishes  '*  To  the  njost  worthy  gent.  Sir 
"William  Russell,  knight,  accomplishment  of  his  honorable 
desire.  Sir,  (it  continues)  hauing,  I  may  truly  saye,  with 
much  labour  compiled  a  booke,  intituled,  The  English 
Mirour:  The  first  part  setting  forth,  the  Conquests  of 
Knuy  :  cotaining  ruine  and  subucrtion  of  the  auncietit  Mo- 
narchies and  common  weales,  &c.  The  second  part,  shewing 
Enuy  to  be  conquered  by  Vertue  :  publishing  the  peaceable 
Tictories  of  her  Maiestie,  to  Gods  hye  glorie  and  vniuersall 
wonder.  The  third  part,  intituled,  a  Fortresse  against 
Enuy:  wlierin  euory  good  comon  wealthsman,  may  seethe 
true  offices,  vertues,  and  (by  abuse)  the  disgrace  of  his  pro- 
fession :  But  because  the  booke  is  of  some  volume,  1  cannot 
haue  it  speedily  printed  :  and  for  that  occasio  now  (at  this 
present)  maketh  passadge  for  this  subiect,  being  a  member  or 
small  parcell  of  the  fore.recited  booke.  Therefore,  as  a 
testimonie  of  the  zeale  which  I  beare  to  your  worship  and 
cuery  worthy  person,  whose  profession  is  martiall,  I  reue- 
rently  submit  my  traucll,  to  be  censur'd  by  your  able  iudge- 
meni,  which  medleth  no  whit  with  millitarie  execution,  but 
altogether  with  morall  gouernmet,  necessarie  for  a  perfect 
souldier.  For  if  I  myselfe,  which  haue  beene  brought  rp 
among  the  Muses,  in  our  English  (onely)  peaceable  and  happy 
governmet,  should  take  vppon  mee  to  set  forth  the  order  of 
battailes,  th'  aduantages  of  places,  the  beniiits  of  stratagems, 

•  See  Wood's  Ath.  Oxon.  vol.  1.  col.  583.  and  Fuller's  Worthies, 
Tol.  ii.  p.  567.  ed.  1811. 

with 


371 

■with  manj  other  millltary  regards  both  offenciue  and  defen- 
ciue,  I  might  for  my  hyre,  iustly  receaue  the  scoffe  that  Ha- 
niball  gaue  vnto  the  Philosopher  Phormio :  -who  vpon  such 
an  indiscrete  discriptio)  tould  him  that:  The  art  millitarie 
was  sooner  learned  of  souldicrs  in  the  brode  fields,  the  of 
philosophers  in  close  scoles.  And  certainly  Ilaniball 
aunswered  more  like  a  philosopher,  then  Phormio  reasoned 
like  a  souldier  :  for  experiece  is  y*  true  teacher  of  all  artes, 
and  therefore  that  honorable  part  of  a  souldier,  which  con- 
taineth  martiall  execution,  I  leaue  to  the  report  of  the  well 
experieced  captaine ;  and  no  doubt,  among  the  worthie 
English  captaines,  there  are  some  that  can  vse  both  Caesars 
pen  and  sword.  My  trauell  which  workelh  betweene  fire 
and  frost  (as  I  haue  saide)  onely  containeth  :  The  morall 
vertues  and  honorable  reputatio  of  a  souldier."  Subscribed 
*'  your  worship's  by  bounden  dutie.      George  Whetstone." 

To  this  epistle  succeeds  a  poetical  address 

*'  To  the  right  valiant  Gentlemen  and  SouUliers,  that  are 
or  shalbe  armed  vnder  the  ensigne  of  Sainct  George  :  In  re- 
compence  of  their  worthie  aduentures,  heauen,  and  euer- 
lasting  honor. 

God  with  S.  George,  Alien,  braue  gentlemen! 
Set  speares  in  rest,  renew  your  auncient  fame  : 

Rush  on  the  pikes,  the  cannon  do  not  shen, 

Your  ancestors  with  passage  through  the  same. 

This  prouerbe  raisde  among  the  French,  their  foes,  ' 

Vous  esjijier^  que  vn  Anglois.  ,i 

Thou  art  as  fierce  as  is  an  Englishman,  * 

The  French  still  say  and  proofe  the  same  did  teach: 

Turne  you  the  French  into  Castillian, 
It  hath  a  grace  in  such  a  loftie  speach  : 

Your  cause  is  good  and  Englishmen  you  are. 

Your  foes  be  men  euen  as  the  French  men  weare.  f 

The  force  of  death  that  raisoth  many  feares, 
In  crauin  harts  which  courage  doe  dispise  ; 

Long  Hues  the  man  that  dyes  in  lusty  yeares, 
In  actions  where  honour  may  arise  : 

And  wherein  may  you  honour  more  expect, 

Then  wronged  men  to  succour  and  protect? 

The  lyon  prayes  vpon  tiie  stoutest  beast. 

Yet  lickes  the  sheep  the  which  the  wolfe  hath  wound  : 
So  worthy  minder,  proude  lookes  that  feareth  least, 

Doth  belpe  to  raise  the  wounded  from  the  ground  : 

Like 


172 

'  -  "like  lyons  then  the  armes  of  England  shield, 
Pray  on  your  foes  and  pittie  those  that  yeld. 

I  say  no  more  but  God  be  your  good  speede, 
And  send  you  hap,  which  I  did  neuer  taste; 
-And  if  this  booke  you  do  witsafe  to  reade, 

You  cannot  thinke  your  labour  spent  in  waste  : 
iVhich  doth  containe  the  raorall  rules  of  those. 
That  followed  Mars  in  thickest  preace  of  foes. 

George  Whetstone." 

Of  this  edition,  probably  the  first,  not  any  mention  is 
made  by  our  bibliographers.  It  was  hastened  in  its 
appearance  by  the  war  with  Spain,  and  being  well-timed 
considered  of  sufficient  importance  for  translation  into 
Dutch,  and  printed  in  that  language  in  the  following 
year,*  and  also  formed  a  portion  of  the  Miror  which  came 
forth  in  1586.+  It  is  a  compilation  from  history,  prin- 
cipally the  Roman,  and  commences  with  an  enuracra- 
<ion  of  persons  advanced  from  the  lowest  rank  to  the 
situation  of  general,  or  commander  :  observing,  that  the 
baseness  of  parentage  might  be  no  blemish  to  those  that 
deserved  well ;  nor  noble  blood  a  privilege  for  those 
that  did  amiss ;  the  Grecians  by  a  law,  forbad  him  the 
tomb  of  his  ancestors  that  added  not  some  glory  to  their 
monuments.  Amidst  the  many  examples  to  establish 
the  honourable  reputation  of  a  good  soldier  the  author's 
judgment  or  modesty  has  made  him  select  only  two  or 
three  from  our  own  annals.  One  may  be  given  as  a 
specimen. 

*'  Couradge  hath  obtained  great  victories,  but  pollicie  hath 
gotf  e  wonderful  and  (almost)  incredible. 

'*  Prince  Edwarde,  King  Edwarde  the  third's  Sonne,  by 
pollicie  ioyncd  with  manhood,  only  with  8000  men,  ouer- 
came  King  lohn  of  Fraunce  and  his  army  of  threescore 
thousand  men :  in  which  ouerthrowe  King  John  was  taken 
prisoner  and  sent  into  England,  who  seeing  the  graue  coun. 
sellers  that  were  attendant  of  the  king,  shooke  his  head,  and 
sayd  :  "  These  fellowes  (quoth  hee)  were  they  that  brought 
me  into  England."  Attributing  his  ouerthrow  to  the  grauv 
directions  of  the  king's  counsell." 

Eusebius  Hood, 

»  Herbert,  1678. 

t  See  the  Cens.  I  itcraria,  vol.  v.  p.  351. 

f  Three 


175 

I  Three  godlj/  and  learned  Sermons,  tery  necessarie  id 
be  read  and  regarded  of  all  men.  Preached  hy 
Thomas  Drant,  Bachelor  in  Diuinitie.  Imprinted 
at  London.    AnnoDom.\bd>^L.  oct.     N.  ij. 

These  sermons  are  the  production  of  the  translator  of 
Horace.  The  first  two  are  dedicated  to  Sir  Thomas 
Henneage,  treasurer  of  the  Queen's  majesty  honourable 
chamber,  who  is  informed 

*'  The  causes  why  I  should  offer  them  to  you  are  these : 
Fyrst,  many  gifts  worthy  much  commendations  in  yourselfe: 
then  that  I  was  your  seruaunt,  and  in  deede  it  shall  not  but 
delight  me  to  call  you  and  esteeme  you  as  my  maister  :  then 
that  at  all  times  you  both  haue  deserued  and  beene  wylling 
to  deserue  well  of  my  studyes.  Of  the  Sermons  I  will  say 
no  one  worde,  they  are  printed,  and  men  haue  eyes,  God 
giue  them  iudgement  ;  this  one  thing  I  must  needes  say,  my 
health  was  very  ill,  bothe  when  I  made  these,  and  is  yiit  stil  ; 
it  hath  spoyled  me  of  my  lecture  at  Paules,  my  beeing  in  the'-' 
cittie,  peraduenture  shortly  of  the  country  and  m^  life  too/* 
Subscribed, 
"  Your  worships  euer  to  be  commanded  Thomas  Drant." 

The  first  sermon  was  preached  at  *'  Saint  Maries  Spittle  on 
Tuesday  in  Easter  weeke,  1570.'*  The  text  from  the  Can- 
ticles, 5.  6.  "  More  specially  (says  the  preacher)  let  vs  pray 
for  the  churches  of  Englande  and  Ireland,  and  as  the  duety 
of  our  loue,  and  subiection  most  of  all  requireth.  let  vs  pray 
for  her  most  excellent  Maiestie  Elizabeth,  by  y*  grace  of  God 
Queene,  &c.  That  God's  enemies  and  her  enemies,  may  be 
made  his  and  her  footestooles.  That  her  scepter  may  growe 
greene,  and  flourish  like  a  palme-tree,  well  and  moystlie 
planted,  and  thit  her  soa(e  may  neuer  totter,  or  nodde,  but 
stand  steddy  as  the  seate  of  Salomon,  and  fayre  as  the  sunne. 
That  the  dayes  of  her  regiment  may  bee  as  the  dayes  of 
heauen.  Let  vs  pray  for  all  the  nobiiitie  and  genterie  of  this 
lande,  that  they  doo  not  liue  as  the  Gyauntes  or  noble  men 
before  Noes  floude,  without  raigne  or  rule  :  least  that  as  those 
giants  brought  downe  vpon  the  heads  of  y'  worlde  a  floude  of 
water:  so  some  of  our  English  giants  doo  bring  vppon  vs  a 
floude  of  fyre:  That  they  may  remember  that  saying  of 
Dauid  :  I  sayde  you  are  Gods,  because  the  worde  is  come  to 
you.  If  the  word  come  to  them  or  they  to  the  worde,  then 
they  are  God's  Gods,  and  God's  Gentlemen.  If  it  come  not 
to  them,  nor  they  to  it,  then  they  are  the  Herald's  Gods,  and 

the 


174 

the  Herald's  Gentlemen.  Pray  for  them  that  they  may  be* 
to  their  prince  as  Thomas  was  to  his  maister  Christe;  let  vs 
goe,  and  let  vs  dye  with  him.  That  they  may  remember 
that  God's  booke  of  life  is  Letter  then  the  Hcraldes  booke  of 
armes,  and  that  neither  house  nor  bloode  can  saue.  .  .  .  i 
Pray  for  bothe  twaine  the  Vniuersities  of  Cambridge,  and 
Oxenforde,  or  as  the  Scripture  calleth  them,  the  families 
of  the  sons  of  y'  prophets,  that  they  may  grow  on,  fro  strength 
to  strength  in  couratie  of  spirite,  and  from  wisdome  to  wise- 
dome  in  plenty  of  iudgement,  that  they  may  bee  able  men  to 
teache,  and  reprooue,  to  plant  and  destroy,  and  that  like 
young  Samuel,    they  may  profite  in  fauour   with  God  and 

man.     Pray  for  all  the  whole  worlde specially  those 

that  grone  vnder  the  crosse  of  Gog  of  Rome  and  Magog  of 
Constantinople,  that  they  may  be  assisted  with  might  or  de- 
liuered  with  speede." 

Some  further  extracts  may  amuse.     In  attacking  the 
Romanists,  he  says : 

*'  The  best  argument  they  haue  for  the  church  of  Rome  iS) 
because  it  was  once  a  holy  place,  and  the  sound  of  the  gospell 
went  thence  and  therfore  styll  Rome  must  be  the  broode 
mother  of  religion,  and  that  there  necdes  must  be  the  church. 
And  peraduenture,  they  will  make  it  of  the  nature  of  Rome, 
that  Rome  hath  the  best  religion :  then  we  maye  saye 
thus.  Mount  Flascon  hath  the  best  wine,  the  Athenians  the 
best  hony,  Persia  the  best  oyle,  Babylon  the  best  corne, 
India  the  best  golde,  Tyrus  the  best  purple,  I3asan  the  best 
cakes,  Libanus  the  best  cedars,  Persia  the  best  iewelles, 
Arrabia  the  best  spices,  Tharsis  the  best  shyppes,  Englande 
the  best  sheepe,  Saxonis  the  best  oxen,  Sicilia  and  Dalmacia 
the  best  horsses,  Pirons  the  best  fishe,  Ithaca  tlie  best  swine, 
and  Rome  the  best  religion.  Or  thus  :  the  Italians  be  most 
wittie,  the  Spanyards  best  water  skirmigers,  the  Frenchmen 
best  keepers  of  holdes,  the  Scotte  with  his  launce,  the  Irish 
man  on  foote,  the  Germaine  in  voice,  the  Marmadons  in 
strength,  the  olde  Romanes  best  suffering  of  hunger  and 
coldf,  and  the  new  Romanes  are  most  religious.  Or  thus  : 
the  Egiptians  haue  no  beeues,  AflTricke  hath  no  bores,  the 
countrey  Helens  hath  no  mules,  the  Macrobians  haue  no 
yron,  Athens  hath  no  owles,  England  no  woolucs,  Wight  no 
foxes,  Ireland  no  venemous  beast,  nor  Rome  no  bad  religion. 
....  And  now  me  thinke  of  these  Romanes  I  may  thus 
say  :  the  iVloores  are  a  value  people,  the  Phrygians  fearefuU, 
the  Israelites  of  an  barde  necke,  and  lodeu  with  sin,  the 
1  Athenians 


175 

Athenians  raineglorious,  the  Grecians  lyght,  the  Galathians 
dullardes,  the  Carthaginians  falsifiers  of  theyr  faith,  the  Cretes 
lyars,  the  Sodomites  full  of  bread,  the  Jevres  vsurers,  the 
Persians  wasters,  the  Spanyardes  lechers,  the  Flemminges 
drinckers,  the  English  gluttoiis,  the  Germanes  vnciuill,  the 
Lacedemonians  theeues,  the  Canniballes  cruell  and  the  Ro- 
manes idolaters.  So  may  I  saye,  and  euen  so  doo  I  say ;  for 
vndoubtedly  the  Church  of  Rome  is  not  Christes  true 
church." 

*'  Touching  the  hunger  of  orphans,  and  such  as  be  father- 
lesse,  I  doo  not  thinke  but  that  it  is  very  great,  and  I  haue 
no  great  hope  that  it  will  be  much  lesse:  The  fathers  themselues 
in  this  world  haue  much  a  doo  to  shift  for  themselues  ;  ther- 
fore  it  must  needes  be  the  condition  of  these  poore  sely  ones 
to  hunger,  to  thyrst,  to  pine,  and  to  starue.  Yet  the 
example  of  this  good  gentleman  Allderman  Dabbes,  and  his 
euer  laudable  goodnesse  to  this  lytle  poore  people,  *  was 
likely  to  haue  styrred  vp  many  after  this  tyme,  to  haue  doone 
the  lyke.  But  I  trow,  for  all  that  we  can  preach  and  exhort 
it  will  be  true,  that  when  the  Sonne  of  man  commeth  there 
will  be  but  lyttle  faith,  and  little  good  works  too.  This 
man  in  these  orphans  hath  clad  Christe  and  fed  Christe.  .... 
Traely  this  land  is  a  land  of  no  charity,  for  euen  of  pur- 
pose they  deuise,  good  Lorde,  to  make  hauocke  of  all 
thinges,  that  we  may  be  releeucd  with  nothing.  Hauocke  in 
theyr  owne  apparell,  theyr  wiues,  children  and  seruauntes 
apparell,  outragious  hauocke  in  theyr  diets,  yea,  too  much 
hauocke  too  many  wayes.  Theyr  horsses  chew  and  spewe 
Tppon  golde  and  syluer,  and  theyr  mules  goe  ^nder  ritch 
Teluette.  Dogges  are  deare  Tuto  them  and  feede  much 
daintilie.  Courses  and  kites  coste  them  many  a  rouiide 
pounde.  There  is  none  but  thy  Maiestie  knoweth  all  things, 
that  knoweth  all  theyr  hiuiockes  and  vaine  expenses  so  that 
we  can  get  nothing  ;  specially,  good  Lorde,  O  good  Lorde, 
this  London  people,  though  it  drawe  neere  thee  with  lyppes. 
and  haue  a  name  to  liue,  yet  hath  it  a  most  flintie  and  vijcyr- 
comcised  heart,  and  is  in  deede  of  no  bowels,  f^ord,  heere  is 
the  ritch  glutton  to  be  seene  vp  and  downe,  and  round  about 
the  towne.  Heere  is  scarce  any  thing  in  the  Tpper  sorte,  but 
many  a  foolishe  Naball  scraping  and  scratching,  eating  and 
drinking  and  sodeinlie  and  rnworthely  dying.  The  eyes  of 
Juda  were  sayd  to  be  redde  with  drinking,  but  much  of  this 
people  haue  theyr  whole  faces  fyre  red  with  continual  quaf- 
fing and  carousing.     Sodome  and  Goraorra  were  sayde  to  be 

*  The  voices  of  Christes  Hospitall.    Margin. 

full 


176 

full  of  bread,  but  these  Londoners  are  more  tKen  full,  f6t 
they  are  euen  bursten  with  bancqnetting,  and  sore  and  sicke 
with  surfetting." 

*'  I  will  speake  a  thing  of  raarueylous  troth  :  A  man  is  but 
a  li!y,  the  pride  and  glory  of  man  is  but  the  pride  and  glory 
of  a  lillie !  Salomon  is  a  lillie !  King  Salomon  is  a  lily !  King 
Salomon  in  all  hys  glory  is  a  lilie !  Sons  of  vanity  to  whom  it 
is  delightful  to  haue  fethers  to  daunce  in  your  tops  as  big  as 
Ajax  sheelde,  to  haue  your  heads  Turkish,  and  your  backes 
Spanish,  your  wastes  Italian,  and  your  feete  Venetian,  with 
such  a  world  of  your  hosen  glory  about  your  loynes.  Sonnes 
(I  say)  of  vanity,  ye  are  but  lillies.  Salomon  in  all  his  glory 
is  but  a  lily  !  Salomon  in  hys  worst  Morkeday  apparell,  is 
better  then  the  best  of  you  all.  Salomon  in  hys  best  holyday 
apparell  is  not  so  braue  as  a  lilly  :  ye  therefore  in  the  huffe  of 
your  rulTe  are  nothing  comparable  to  a  lily,  no  not  to  a  fielde 
lily.  Daughters  of  vanity  and  dames  of  delicacy,  ye  thinke 
it  fine  and  featous  to  be  called  roses,  primroses,  and  lilyes  ; 
and  indeede  it  is  true  in  respectes  you  are  roses,  primroses, 
and  lilies  :  When  ye  haue  gotten  all  vpon  your  heads  and 
backes  which  English  soiledooth  yeeld  and  many  a  marchaunt 
hath  fetched  full  farre,  when  all  your  taylors  haue  broken 
their  braines  about  contriuingof  formes  and  fashions,  yet  then 
are  ye  nothing  so  tricksy  trime  as  the  lily." 

The  second  sermon  was  preached  "  at  the  court  at 
Windsor,  the  eight  day  of  January,  1569,"  the  text 
being  from  Genesis  :  <«  They  were  both  naked,  Adam 
and  Eve,  and  blushed  not;"  wherein  the  courtiers  are 
icverely  inveiglied  against  for  their  luxury  of  dress. 

The  last  was  delivered  at  St.  Mary's  Spittle,  Tuesday 
in  Easter  week,  1572 ;  the  text  selected  from  Eccle.  11. 
V.  1,2,  3.  It  is  dedicated  to  Sir  Francis  Knolls,  Knight, 
who  is  told  it  "  hath  three  specialties  in  it.  The  fyrst 
is,  it  speaketh  and  pleadeth  much  for  the  releefe  of 
pouerty.  Secondly,  it  is  earnest  for  tlie  safety  of  the 
prince  and  weale  publicke  as  it  now  is.  Thirdly,  it  is 
tarte  and  vehement  against  sinne  :  as  bribery,  simony, 
vsurie,  hijiocrisy,  flattery,  hard  hartednes,  vitionsnes, 
trouthlesnes,"- &c.  It  \vas  commended  by  Dr.  Hum- 
frey  at  Paul's  Cross.* 


•  It  was  also  printed  singly,  and  probably  there  were  several 
editjous :  there  was  one  by  John  Day,  n.  d. 


l^vitist)  3$ibli(igrap!)ert 


N^    XIV. 


WHILST  Ave  justly  congratulate  ourselves  on  the  general 
difFusion  of  literature  in  our  own  days,  and  on  the  speed 
with  which  any  valuable  work  of  science  or  imaginatioa 
is  communicated  from  one  country  of  Europe  to  an- 
other, we  too  seldom  are  tempted  to  ask  whether  our 
ancestors  had  any  similar  means  of  diffusing  their  know- 
ledge and  the  works  of  fancy  they  produced  ?  And  yd 
even  a  slight  acquaintance  with  the  romances,  and  the 
shorter  fabliaux  of  the  middle  ages  in  the  different 
European  languages,  proves  that  with  respect  to  this 
branch  of  literature  at  least  (no  doubt  the  best  calcula- 
ted to  insure  mutual  research  and  communication  in  the 
chivalrous  ages)  the  minstrels  and  writers  of  romance, 
whether  retained  in  the  houses  of  the  great,  or  wandering 
from  one  city  or  village  to  another  for  the  amusement  of 
the  middle  and  lower  ranks,  took  care  to  procure  both 
large  romances  and  shorter  narrations  from  their  com,- 
rades  in  other  countries.  With  respect  to  the  larger 
romances  the  fact  is  well  known,  and  their  very  bulk 
readily  accounts  for  the  circumstance,  as  transcripts 
were  no  doubt  procured  and  safely  lodged  in  the 
libraries  of  monasteries  and  colleges.  Hence  we  fiiyi 
the  greater  part  of  the  romances  relating  to  Arthur 
and  Charlemagne  existing  in  some  shape  or  other  in 
most  of  the  languages  spoken  by  the  Christians  at  the 
time.  The  deeds  of  Lancelot,  Tristrem  and  Ywaine, 
as  well  as  those  of  Orlando  Oliver  and  Ogier,  were 
equally  popular  in  England,  Italy,  Spain,  Germany, 
and  even  in  Scandinavia,  as  in  France,  where  most  of 
the  gests  were  originally  recorded  and  embellished  with 
fictions.  The  singular  diffusion  of  these  longer  narra- 
voL.  IV,  N  lire 


178 

<ive  porms,  which  is  equally  observable  in  the  fabulous 
tales  of  Troy  and  of  Alexander,  has  been  noticed  by 
several  authors,  and  may  one  day  be  the  subject  of  a 
ujore  extended  memoir. 

To  account  for  the  speedy  and  equally  universal 
diti'usion  of  the  shorter  narrations  or  fabliaux,  recourse 
most  be  had  to  other  suppositions.  From  their  short- 
iifss  and  from  the  small  number  of  monastic  MSS.  in 
■which  they  are  to  be  found,  they  appear  to  have  been 
chiefly  handed  about  by  oral  tradition,  and  hei>ce  we 
may  account  for  the  infinite  change  of  incident,  charac- 
ter, and  place  of  action,  and  the  continual  curtailments 
and  additions  which  they  have  been  subject  to.  Stories 
which  oria^inated  in  the  East,  and  whose  place  of  action 
bad  been  Bas^dad  or  Cairo ^  were  readily  transferred  at 
the  option  of  the  reciter  to  Paris,  Lincoln/ or  Vienna, 
and  nothinj^  was  more  easy  than  to  adapt  the  costume  to 
the  several  countries  they  were  transferred  to.-  The 
scarcity  of  MSS.  mentioned  above  mny  be  easily  proved. 
The  French  fabliaux  published  by  Barbazan  and  Meon 
are  principally  selected  from  two  or  three  MSS.  pre- 
served at  Paris  ;  in  the  Teutonic  language  a  considerable 
numl)er  are  still  extant  in  two  MSS.  at  Vienna  and 
Strasburgh ;  while  the  number  of  similar  productions 
and  translations  of  the  English  minstrels  (who  it  may  be 
presun)ed  were  equally  a.ssiduous  to  procure  the  amuse- 
ment aftbrded  by  these  tales  to  their  countrymen  as  they 
were  to  translate  the  longer  legends)  at  present  in 
existence  is  comparatively  trifling.  Among  the  Spa- 
niards they  were  probably  formed  into  the  shajje  of  their 
comic  romances,  at  least  one  of  these*  which  I  have 
lately  met  with  is  no  other  than  the  widely-diffused 
story  ofthe  Citizen's  Wife  of  Orleans  (Meon's  Barbazan, 
III.  161.)  The  Italians,  whose  literature  and  language 
were  fixed  at  a  mucli  earlier  period  than  those  of  other 
modern  I'^uropcan  nations,  were  enabled  to  hand  down 
these  stories  in  a  far  less  perishable  form.  The  original 
of  many  of  Boccaccio's  novels  has  been  traced,  and  if  the 
Italian  commentators  had  been  equally  attentive  to  the 
matter  of  tin;  tales,  as  they  have  been  to  the  Tuscan 
idiom  of  his  language,  they  might  have  pointed  out  the 

*  Collec*  ion  de  D.  lUmon  Fernandez,  Madrid,  1796,  vol-  xvi. 

source 


179 

source  of  most  of  them.  The  same  assertion  holds  n^ood 
when  applied  to  the  Cento  Novcllc  Antiche,  the  Peco- 
rone,  and  the  collections  of  Buadello,  Masuccio,  and 
Cinthio,  with  the  rest  of  the  host  of  the  Italian  novelists. 

A  great  number  of  tliese  popular  tales  undoubtedly 
came  from  the  East,  but  there  is  reason  to  suppose  that 
the  obligation  was  repaid  in  many  instances  by  the 
Europeans  to  the  Orientals.  Others  no  doubt  were 
founded  on  actual  facts,  variously  altered  by  different 
composers  and  reciters.  But  the  confusion  is  so  great 
that  the  possibility  of  tracing  many  to  their  original 
source  is  almost  out  of  the  question  ;  at  least  a  research 
of  this  kind  would  require  many  years  labour,  and  the 
question,  whether  such  a  period  of  time  would  be  well  or 
ill  bestowed,  or  ever  reward  the  toil  requisite  to  accom- 
plish it?  might  easily  sCartle  the  most  assiduous  lover  of 
romance.  In  the  progress  of  a  man's  reading  he  may, 
however,  with  little  difficulty  meet  with  resemblances 
the  most  striking,  and  trace  originals  of  many  stories 
hitherto  supposed  inventions  ofthe  author.  The  collec- 
tions of  the  learned  illustratorofShakspeare  might  startle 
any  other  collector  who  has  picked  up  a  faw  grains 
among  the  heap  of  chaft  which  has  been  accumulating 
for  centuries,  but  they  should  not  deter  him  from  com- 
municating any  really  curious  discovery  of  the  kind. 
It  is  with  this  view  1  offer  the  present  slight  memoir  for 
insertion  in  your  valuable  miscellany,  a  portion  of 
which  I  am  happy  to  observe  is  dedicated  to  romance; 
as  well  as  to  stimulate  others  to  communicate  the  result 
of  their  investigations  to  the  public. 

The  story  ofthe  curious  fabliau  of  Dan  Hew  of  Lin- 
coln, inserted  in  a  late  number,*  has  becii  employed  by 
a  variety  of  Trouveurs  of  different  nations,  and  has 
been  moulded  into  various  forms.  The  oldest  copy  is 
probably  the  tale  of  the  Little  Hunchback  in  the  Arabian 
Nights,  pointed  out  by  your  correspondent,  if  its  an- 
tiquity may  not  be  disputed  by  a  similar  story  in  the 
Seven  W  ise  Masters,  and  from  thence  copied  into  the 
Gesta  Romanorum.f     The  tale  was  eagerly  seized  upon 

•  Vol.  ij.  p.  393. 

t  Most  of  these  coincidences  have  been  pointed  out  in  Mr. 
Donee's  digest  of  the  last  mentioned  work,  but  I  have  repeated 
ihem  to  mention  the  variation  which  gave  rise  to  the  English  tale. 

m2  b/ 


180 

by  the  French  and  Kalian  novelists.  The  fabliaux  of 
Estonvini  and  Des  trois  Bogus,  as  well  as  a  novel  of  Stra- 
parola  in  1  lie  Berfjaniask  dialect,  and  some  later  imitations, 
difTcr  but  little  from  the  original  Oriental  tales.  But 
Dan  Hew  belongs  to  a  variety  of  the  tale,  the  oldest 
specimens  of  which  to  my  knowledge  are  the  fabliaux 
l)u  Prestre  qu'on  porle,  Dii  Segrestain  Moine,*  and  Du 
Segrestain  de  Clugny,  abridged  in  Lc  Grand  ;  either  of 
the  two  latter,  which  nearly  coincide,  appears  to  me  the 
undoubted  original  of  Dan  Hew,  as  well  as  of  the  first 
novel  in  Masuccio's  Novellino. 

I  take  this  opportunity  of  subjoining  a  few  other 
curious  coincidences.  In  the  last  mentioned  novelist, 
the  story  of  Chaucer's  Miller's  Tale,  which  Tyrwhitt 
had  not  met  with  elsewhere,  occurs.  As  Masuccio 
flouris[)cd  a  considerable  time  after  Chaucer,  (circa 
1460)  and  as  the  former  is  very  unlikely  to  have  been 
acquainted  with  the  Canterbury  Tales,  it  appears  more 
than  probable  that  both  authors  were  indebted  to  some 
prior  fabulist. 

A  late  perusal  of  the  Notti  of  Straparolat  suggested 
several  coincidences  between  his  novels  and  some  stories 
once  highly  popular  in  this  island.  From  the  fifth  novel 
of  the  eighth  night  Robert  Armin  translated  the  Italian 
Tailor  and  his  Boy  ;  another  of  his  novels  (Notte  xi, 
favola  2)  bears  a  very  striking  similarity  to  the  ancient 
romance  of  Aniadas  lately  printed;  and  the  fabliau  of 
Sir  Cleges,  the  original  conclusion  of  which  I  was  haj)py 
to  meet  with  in  your  last  number,  strongly  resembles 
part  of  tile  buflboneries  of  Cimarosto  at  the  papal  court, 
related  in  the  third  novel  of  the  seventh  night.  The 
occurrence    of  the  same  story  in"  Sacchetti  has  been 

*  Printed  lioth  in  the  late  edition  of  Barbazan  as  well  as  the 
two  above  mentioned. 

t  The  latter  editions  of  this  curious  collection  exhibit  one  of 
tjie  strangest  specimens  of  inquisitorial  iiujierlinence.  Nine 
novels,  relating  partly  to  the  wickedness  of  friars  and  partly  to 
supernatural  events,  arc  entirely  omitted,  and  wherever  friars, 
nuns,  priests,  or  saints  are  mentioned,  they  are  uniformly  changed 
to  ordinary  persons,  or  the  passages  where  they  occur  are  en- 
tirely expunged.  Any  invocation  or  allusion  to  the  deity  is 
carefully  suppressed,  and  to  such  a  length  did  this  pious  fra- 
ternity  proceed  that  they  would  not  suffer  such  words  as  fate, 
fortune  ;ind  chance  to  stand.  On  the  contrary,  they  seldom  re- 
trenched the  frequent  indelicacy  of  the  text. 

9  elsewhere 


]81 

elsewhere  pointed  out.     The  similarity  of  another  novel 
of  Straparola  (N.  iv.  F.   4)  to  the  Merry    Wives  of 
Windsor,  as  well  as  the  obligations  of  Moliere  to  the 
same  source,  has  been  noticed  before.     But  even  de- 
scending to  our  common  nursery  tales,  we  may  occasion- 
ally meet  with  the  same  tales  in  much  older  authors  than 
we  are  aware  of.     The  first  tale  of  the  same  novelist's 
eleventh  night,  is  no  other  than  the  renowned  Puss  in 
Boots,  which  most  readers  will  recollect  having  perused 
with  infinite  delight  in  their  infancy  ;  and  surely  it  would 
be  the  height  of  ingratitude  never  to  recal  such  tales  to 
our  memory.     Nor  is  the  literature  both  of  the  nursery 
and  that  which,  till  within  a  few  years,  formed  the  fa- 
vourite amusement  of   the    common  people,  by   any 
means  unworthy  of  notice.     No  class  of  literature  caii 
boast  of  being  difiiised  among  a  larger  body  of  readers, 
or  throughout  a  greater  part  of  the  globe.     It  certainly 
is  some  object  of  curiosity  to  find  the  despised  stories  of 
Blue-beard,  Redriding-hood,  Cinderella,  &c.  equally 
prevalent  in  the  nurseries   of  England,  France,  Ger- 
many, and  Denmark.     Even  the  songs  of  our  earliest 
youth  are  equally  popular ;  that  of  the  Ladybird  is  as 
common   among   German  nurses  as  it  is  in  England. 
Again,  on  the  stalls  of  the  hawking  booksellers  of  the 
former  nation   we  meet  at  present  with  an  assortment 
very  similar  to  what  are  now  considered  rarities  among 
English  collectors,  and  which  have  been  driven,  by  a 
degree  of  refinement  which  the  antiquary  will  scarcely 
admit  to  be  laudable,  from  the  cottages  of  farmers  and 
peasants.     Fortunatus,  the  Four  Sons  of  Aymon,  Melu- 
sina,  Octavianus,   Sir   Tristrem   and  the  Seven  Wise 
Masters,  as  well  as  the  originally  German  Eulenspiegel 
and  the  Priest  of  Calenberg,*  both  once  well  known  in 
English  translations,  are  still  in  the  hands  of  German 
peasants,   and  their    popularity  has    been  transmitted 
from  father  to  son  for  many  generations.     The  same 
works  occur  at  the  fairs  in  Denmark,  where  they  are 
eagerly  bought  up  and  read  ;  and  these  stories   have 
been  probably  translated  into  more  languages  than  most 

*  A  fragment  of  the  English  translation  of  this  very  singular 
comic  romance  is  in  the  library  of  Francis  Douce,  Esq.  and  pro- 
bably is  unique. 

of. 


182  . 

of  Ihe  classical  productions  calculated  for  more  refined 
palnles. 

To  return  from  this  digression,  the  subject  of  which 
certainly  merits  more  extensive  research  ;  the  original 
of  several  popular  ballads  may  also  be  traced  in  the 
Ifalian  and  other  novelists  ;  1  will  content  myself  with 
two  instances.  The  Heir  of  Linne,  printed  by  Bishop 
Percy,  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  a  novel  in  Cin- 
fhio's  Hcccatomithi,  (I)eca.  IX.  nov.  8)  and  the 
Cruel  Black,  in  Evans's  collection,  is  no  other  than 
a  novel  of  Bandeilo  (Part  111.  nov.  8  of  the  entire 
editions,)  versified.*  The  obligations  of  the  elder  dra- 
matists to  these,  and  similar  sources,  have  been  pointed 
out  in  numerous  instances  by  Langbaine,  but  his  in- 
dustry has  not  exhausted  the  study  ;  nor  are  the  more 
modern  dramatists  altogether  unindebted  to  the  Italians.-j- 

I  conclude  this  enumeration,  which  might  have  been 
easily  extended  to  a  far  greater  length,  with  observing 
that  the  History  of  Lord  Mendozze  is  not,  as  your  corres- 
pond* nt  conjectures,  a  translation  from  the  Spanish,  but 
from  a  novel  of  Bandeilo,  (Part  III.  nov.  44,  probably 
through  the  medium  of  his  French  translator  Belleforest) 
with  which  the  story,  as  exhibited  in  the  analysis,  per- 
fectly coincides.^ 

Edinburgh,  Aug.  26,  1812.  H.  W. 

•In  the  projected  reprint  of  the  Palace  of  Pleasure  a  short 
reference  to  the  ori<i,inals  of  the  stories  could  not  but  add  con- 
siderable value  to  the  work.  I  have  no  opportunity  to  refer  to  it, 
but  have  no  doubt  it  niit;ht  be  done  in  most  instances.  Of  those 
reprinted  in  ihe  present  publication  one  (vol.  i.  p.  261)  is  from 
Boccacio,  another  (\\.  46ii)  from  the  Heptanieron  of  the  Queen  of 
Navarre  (novel  66).    The  sources  of  the  others  are  classical. 

t  To  the  stories  resembling  Walpole's  Mysterious  Mother,  as 
enumerated  in  the  Hiog.  Draw,  and  Censura  Lit.  vol.  ix.  may 
be  added  the  23d  novel  of  Masuccio,  and  another  of  Bandeilo 
(Part  II.  nov.  33).  'I'he  eighth  novel  of  Parabosco  is  evidently 
the  source  of  the  principal  incident  in  a  modern  English  farce, 
I  think  the  Village  lawyer.  I  take  this  opportunity  to  notice 
a  mistake  in  the  late  edition  of  Beauiuont  and  Fletcher,  The 
original  of  the  Triumph  of  Death,  one  of  the  Four  Plays  in 
One,  is  not  the  first  novel  of  Bandeilo,  but  the  42d  of  the 
first  part.  The  principal  plot  in  the  Lutle  French  Lawyer  is 
found  in  the  Diporti  oi  Parabosco  (nov.  '/)a8  well  as  in  Masuccio, 
^s  there  pointed  out. 

J  It  was  also  translated  by  Painter  for  the  Palate  of  Pleasure, 
(vol.  1,  nov.  slv.)  under  the  tilleof  the  Duchess  of  Savoy.     J.  H. 

The 


183 


•^^e  Bannat^ne  Sl^anujstnpt. 

During  the  fifteenth  and  the  earlier  part  of  the  sixteenth 
century  the  Scottish  poels  certainly  both  in  point  oC 
imagination,  and  what  at  first  sight  would  seem  singular, 
in  harmony  of  versification,  exceeded  their  Southern 
brethren.  The  works  of  Dumbar,  who  certainly  stands 
at  the  head  of  the  ancient  poets  of  iiis  country,  possess  a 
degree  of  polish  which  would  be  vainly  searched  for  in 
'the  compositions  of  his  contemporaries  Skelton  and 
Hawes  ;  and  the  same  parallel  would  hold  good  on  a 
comparison  of  several  subsequent  Scottish  makaris  with 
Hey  wood  and  other  rhymers  of  the  south.  The  school 
of  Surrey  and  Wyat  first  began  to  balance  the  scale, 
but  Scotland  still  continued  to  produce  specimens  which 
are  fairly  entitled  to  claim  equality  of  praise  with  their 
compositions.  On  the  whole,  it  will  not  appear  an  un- 
just decision  to  assert,  that  from  the  time  of  Chaucer  to 
that  of  Spenser  more  real  poetry  was  composed  on  the 
north  than  on  the  south  side  of  the  Tweed. 

The  most  valuable  and  extensive  stock  of  the  Scottish 
poetry  of  this  period,  which  has  reached  our  days,  is 
undoubtedly  contained  in  the  volume  sometimes  called 
the  Hynd ford  MS.  from  John  third  earl  of  Hyndford, 
who  presented  it  to  the  Advocate's  Library,  but  more 
properly  the  Bannatyne  MS.  from  George  Bannatyne, 
a  minor  poet  himself,  who  collected  it  according  to  hi« 
own  assertion  in  1568,*  and  who  is  certainly  intitled  to 
the  praise  of  extraordinary  diligence,  as  he  copied  about 
750  large  folio  pages,  written  pretty  closely,  in  the 
space  of  three  months.  Our  curiosit}'^  to  know  some- 
thing of  so  early  an  enthusiast  for  the  poetry  of  his 
country  can  unfortunately  not  be  gratified,  as  we  are  in 
possession  of  no  facts  respecting  his  quality  and  occupa- 
tion whatever.  Mr.  Tytler  in  his  Dissertation  on  Scot- 
tish Music,  asserted  that  he  was  one  of  the  canons  of 
Elgin  cathedral,  but  he  undoubtedly  confounded  hira 
Avith  one  Bellenden,  whoactually  heldthatsituation.  The 
only  thing  we  can  collect  from  his  introductory  stanzas 

■  *  Mr.  Pinkerton  seems  to  doubt  the  accuracy  of,thi3<late  on 
account  ot  a  poem  ot"  Wither  which  occurs  in  the  MS.  but  that  is 
inserted  by  a  later' haad  on  the  title  page  of  the  third  subdivision. 

i& 


184 

is,  that  lie'undortook  liis  compilation,  which  I  snspect 
to  have  l)pcn  inlended  for  the  press,  at  a  very  early 
period  of  his  life.  Prom  the  inscription  ''  Jacobus 
Foiilis,  1623,"  occurrin<T  in  the  MS.  it  is  conjectured  that 
it  passed  info  tlte  hands  of  Sir  James  Foulis  of  CoUing- 
ton,  uho  married  Janet  Bannatyne,  probably  adaucjhtcr 
or  niece  of  the  compiler.  From  several  inscriptions  of 
a  similar  kind  the  MS.  evidently  continued  in  the  family 
of  Sir  James  till  the  year  171t?,  when  it  was  presented 
by  Sir  William  Foulis  to  Mr.  William  Carmichael,  an 
advocate, 

Bannatyne  seems  to  have  been  dissatisfied  with  tho 
original  commencement  of  his  collection,  for  the  first 
twenty-seven  leaves  are  separately  paged,  and  contain 
several  long  poems  repeated  in  the  subsequent  completed 
part,  with  which  this  fragment  appears  to  have  no 
connection.  On  the  fly-leaf  preceding  the  whole  work 
the  following  words  are  written  in  an  old  hand,  differing 
from  that  of  the  compiler  :  "  Heir  begynnis  ane  ballat 
bulk  writlin  in  the  yeir  of  God  1568."  The  fragment 
is  followed  by  "  The  Song  of  the  Redsqware,"  printed 
in  thfc  Evergreen  and  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Bor- 
der, and  inserted  at  a  much  later  period,  as  appears  by 
the  following  note,  "  This  poem  is  in  the  handwriting 
of  the  honourable  Mr.  William  Carmichaell,  advocate." 
On  the  first  page  of  the  second  and  complete  collection 
occurs  the  following  address  from  "  The  wryttar  to  the 
reidaris:"* 

**  Ye  reverend  redaristhir  vrorkis  revolving  richt, 

Gif  ye  get  cryraes  correct  thame  to  youre  niicht. 

And  curss  na  dark  tliut  cunnyngly  (hame  wrait, 

Bot  blame  me  baldly  brocht  this  buik  till  licht, 

In  tenderest  tyme,  quhcn  knawlcge  was  nocht  bricht; 

Bot  lait  begun  to  lerne  and  till  translait 

My  copies  awld,  mankit,  and  mutillait, 

Quhais  trewth  as  standis,  yet  haif  I  sympill  wicht 

Tryd  forth  :  thairfoir  excuse  sumpairt  my  micht. 

Now  ye  haif  heir  this  ilk  buik  sa  provydit 
That  in  fyve  pairtis  it  is  dewly  devydit : 

•  I  have  discarded  the  ;/  for  the  1h,  as  well  as  the  x  for  the  y,  as 
they  both  comjiletely  fail  in  expressing  the  letters  intended  by  the 
original  transcribers. 

l.Tht 


185 

.1.  The  first  concemis  Gods  gloir  and  ouir  saluatioun  ; 

2.  The  n'lxt  ar  morale,  grave,  and  als  besyd  it 

3.  Grund  on  gud  couusale  ;  the  thrid,  I  will  nocht  hyd  it, 
Ar  biyith  and  glaid,  maid  for  ouir  consolatioun  ; 

4.  The  ferd  of  luve  and  thair  richt  reformationn  ; 

5.  The  fyift  ar  tailis  and  storeis  weill  discydit: 
Reid  as  ye  pleiss,  I  need  no  moir  narratioun." 

On  the  next  folio  the  following  title  obcurs  in  a  later 
hand,  "  Ane  most  Godlie,  mirrie,  and  liistie  Rapsodie 
made  be  siindrie  learned  Scots  poets,  and  written  he 
George  Bannatyne  in  the  tyrae  of  his  joiith."  The  first 
division  is  concluded  on  fol.  43,  by  the  following  colo- 
phon and  title  :  "  Heir  endisthe  first  pairt  of  this  buke 
contenand  ballattis  of  theologie.  Followis  the  secound 
pairt  of  this  buk  contenand  verry  singular  ballatis  full 
of  wisdome  and  moralitie."  These  are  concluded  on 
fol.  97:  "  Heir  endis  the  secound  pairt  of  this  buke. 
Heir  begynnys  the  thrid  pairt  of  this  bulk  contenand 
balletis  rairry,  and  vthir  solatius  consaittes  as  set  furth 
be  diuers  ancient  poyettis  1568."  Fol.  21J,  "Heir 
endis  the  bulk  of  mirry  ballettis,  set  furth  be  diuers  new 
and  ancient  poetlis.  Heir  followis  ballattis  of  luve,  de- 
vydit  in  four  pairtis,  the  first  ar  songis  of  luve,  the 
secound  ar  contemptis  of  luve  and  evill  wemen,  the  thrid 
ar  contempis  of  evill  fals  vicius  men,  and  the  fourt  ar 
ballattis  detesting  of  luve  and  lichery.  The  fourt  pairt 
of  this  buke."  Fol.  ^98,  "  Heir  endis  the  ballattis  of 
luve,  remedy  thairof,  and  contempt  of  luve.  Heir 
followis  the  fyift  pairt  of  this  buik,  contenyng  the 
fabillis  of  Esop,  with  diverss  vthir  fabillis  and  poeticall 
workis  maid  and  compylit  by  diuers  lernit  men.  1568." 
On  the  last  folio,  after  a  prayer  of  one  stanza,  occurs 
another  address  from  "  The  wryttar  to  the  redare :" 

"  Heir  endis  this  buik  written  in  tyme  of  pest, 
Quhen  we  fra  labor  was  compeld  to  rest, 
Into  the  three  last  rnonethis  of  this  yeir 
From  our  redimaris  birth,  to  knaw  it  heir 
Ane  thowsand  is,  fyve  hundreth  thre  scoir  awcht. 
Of  this  purpoiss  na  mair  is  to  be  tawcht : 
Swa,  till  conclude,  god  grant  ws  all  gude  end, 
And  eftir  deth  eternall  lyfe  ws  send. 
Finis. 
.     1568." 

The 


186 

The  poems  selected  from  this  voluminous  manuscript 
by  Lord  Hales,  as  well  as  a  few  printed  by  Pinkerton, 
and  those  published  in  a  most  mutilated,  inaccurate, 
and  modernisetl  state  by  Allan  Ramsay,  are  well  known, 
and  undeniably  comprise  the  most  valuable  portion  of 
its  contents ;  there  are  however  a  great  number  of  those 
yet  nnprinted,  which  deserve  a  revival  for  their  actual 
merit;  others,  particularly  in  the  third  class,  afford 
singular  and  Interesting  specimens  of  the  humour  ot  the 
times,  but  unfortunately  their  obscenity  is  in  general  too 
gross  for  the  present  age.  Of  the  annexed  specimens 
the  first  is  anonymous,  and  has  considerable  merit,  par- 
ticularly in  description,  though  the  affectation  of  super- 
abundant alliteration  renders  some  passages  so  quaint  as 
to  bear  rather  a  ludicrous  complexion.  From  the  con- 
text it  appears  to  have  been  composed  on  a  lady  of  the 
noblefamily  of  Perth,  named  Margaret ;  and  it  may  be  con- 
jectured w  ith  almost  more  than  probability,  that  the  subject 
of  the  poem  was  Margaret,  eldest  daughter  of  Sir  John 
Drummond,  lord  of  that  ilk  and  Stobhall,  who  is  stated 
to  have  been  contracted  to  King  James  iV.  and  had  a 
daughter  by  him,  afterwards  married  to  Alexander  earl 
of  Huntley. 

Quhen  Tayis  bank  wes  blumyt  Thesone  schyneouttheschawis 

brycht  schene 

With    blossomes    blyih    and  Full  semely  me  besyd  : 

bred,  In  bed  ofbliimesbrichLbesene 

Be  that  riuer  ran  doun  rycht  A  sleip  cow th  me  ourslyd. 

Undir  the  ryss*  I  red ; 

The  merle  meliif  with  all   her  j^^.^^^  ^^  ^lumet  wes  my  bour 

mytht  With    blosumes    brcun    and 

And  mirth  mmornyng  maid:  blew 

Threw  solace,  sound,  and  seme-  Oi.rfret§  with  mony  fair  fresch 

ly  sicht,  j^o^ir 

Alswuh  asang  I  said.  jjei^..^;  of  hevinly  hew; 

Undir  that  bank  quhair  bliss  ha<l  With  schakeris||  of  the  schene 

bene  dew-schour 

I  bownit  roe  to  abyde ;  Schynyng       my      courteint 

Ane    holene^t    hevinly    hewit  schew, 

grene,  Arrayit  with  a  rich  vardour 

Rycht  heyndly  did  me  hyd  ;  Ot  ijatours  werkis  new. 

*  Shrubs. 

t  To  mele,  to  mix,  also  to  speak,  in  the  text  it  seems  to  imply  to 
ting.  *  Holly.  j  Overfretted,  wrought. 

U  The  moisture  distilled  from  6uw«rs. 

Rasins 


187 


Rasing  the  birdis  fra  ther  rest 
The    reid    sone    raiss     with 
rawis;* 
The  lark  sang  lowd  quhill  lycht 
mycht  lest 
A  lay  of  luvis  lawis ; 
The  nythingall  woik  of  hir  nest 

Sii)ging"lhe  day  iipdawis;" 
The  mirthful!  maveis  merriest 
Schillf    schowtit  threw    the 
schawis. 

All  flourisgrew  that  firth  within 

That  man  cowtb  haifin  mynd. 

And  in  that  flud  all  fysche  with 

That  creat  wer  be  kynd  ;J 
Undir  the  ryss  the  ra  did  ryn, 

Our  rou,^  our  rute,  our  rynd, 
The  dun  deir  dansit  with  a  dyn 

And  herdes  of  hairt  and  hy nd. 

Wod  winterwith  his  wallowand|| 
wynd 

But  weirlT  away  was  went : 
Brasit  about  with  *vyld    wod- 
bynd 

Wer  bewis  on  the  bent.** 
Alone  under  the  lusty  lyud 

I  saw  ane  iusura  lentft 
That  fairly^  was  so  fare  to  fynd 

Undir  the  firmament. 

Scho  wes  the  lustiest  on  lyve, 

AUone  lent  on  a  land, 
And  farest  figour,  be  Set.  Syve, 

That  evir  in  firth§§  I  fand. 
Hir  cumly  cultur||||  todiscryve 

I  dar  nocht  tak  on  hand ; 
Moir  womanly  borne  of  a  wyfe 

Wes  ntuer,  I  dar  warrand. 


To  creatur  that  wes  in  cair, 

Or  cawid  of  crewelty, 
A   blicht   blink  of  hir    visage 
bair 
Of  baill^lf  his  bute***  mycht 
be; 
Hir  hyd,  hir  hew,  hir  hevinly 
hair  / 

Mycht  havy  hairtis  uphie ; 
So  angelik  under  the  air 
Neuir  wicht  [  mw  with  e. 

The  blossumes  that  wer  biyth 

and  brycht 
■     By  hir  wer  blachtttf  and  blew 
Scho    gladit   all   the    foull    of 
flycht 
That  in  the  forest  flew ; 
Scho  mychthaif  comfort  king  or 
knycht 
That  ever  in  cuntre  I  knew. 
As  wailljJJJ  and  well  of  warldly 
wicht 
In  womenly  verlew. 

Hircullouroverhiroountenancp, 

Hir  curaly  cristall  ene, 
Hir  portratour  of  most  plesance 

All  pictour  did  prevene;§§§ 
Of  every  vertew  to  advance 

Quhen  ladeis  prasit  bene, 
Rycht  left  in  my  remembfejr- 
ance 

That  rose  is  rutitgrene. 

This    my!d    meik    mensuet|||||l 
Margerite, 
This  perle  polist  most  quhyt, 
Dame  Natours  deir  dochter  dis- 
creit, 
The  dyamaut  of  delyt. 


•Rays.  f  Shrill.  J  Nature.  $  Over  bush,  shrub. 

II  Withering.  ^  Without  doubt. 

**  Boughs  on  the  coarse  grass,  or  on  the  plain, 
tt  A  lovesome  [ladyj  leaned.  U  Scarcely, 

§§  "  A  pla.u  amidst  wood,"  as  defined  by  Camden, 
nil  Behaviour,  conduct ;  p<  rhaps  we  should  read  cullour. 
11^  Evil.  ***  Redemption.  fft  Bleached,  pale. 

JJt  Weal,  advantage,  from  avail.  §§§  Prevent. 

mill  Gentle.     The  poet  hke  many  of  his  fellows  Quibbles  on  the 
ipeaning  of  Margaret  his  mistress's  na.rac,va.  pear). 

Never 


188 


Neter  formit  wes  to  found*  on 
feit 
Ane  figour  more  pcrfyte, 
Nor  non  on  world  that  did  hir 
nicit 
Mycht  mend  hir  wirth  amyte. 

This  myrthfull  maid  to  meit  I 
ment, 
And  merkitf  forth  on  mold  ; 
Bot    sone  within  a  wanej  scho 
went, 
Most  hevinly  to  behold  ; 
The  bricht  sone  with  his  bemys 
b]ent§ 
Upoun  the  berkis  bold  : 
Farest  under  the  firmament 
That  formit  wes  on  fold.|| 

As  paradyce  that  place  but  peir 
Wes  plesant  to  my  sicht, 

Of  forrest,  and  of  fresch  reveir, 
Of  firth,  and  fowl!  of  flicht, 

Of  birdis,   bath  on  bonk  and 
brere, 
With  blumes  brekand  bricht, 


As  hevin  in  to  this  erd  doun 
heir,- 
Hertis  to  hald  on  hicht. 

So  went  this  womanly  away 

Allying  thir  wuddis  wyd, 
And  I  to  heir  tliir  birdis  gay 

Did  in  a  bonk  abyd, 
Quhair    rone    and    ryss   raiss 
in  may 

Eudlung  the  reuer  syd : 
This  hapnit  in  a  lyme  in  May, 

lutill  a  morninu;  tyd. 

The  rever  threw  the  ryss  cowth 
rowt 
And  roserisf  raiss  on  raw;** 
The   scheue'  birdis    lull  schill 
cowth  scbowt 
Into  that  senily  schaw; 
Joy  was  within  and  juy  withowt 

Under  that  vnlinkest  waw,tt 
Quhair    Tay    ran    doun     with 
stremis  stowt 
Full     strecht     vnder     Stob- 
schaw.Jt 

The  following  is  an  hitherto  unpublished  poem  of 
Alexander  Scott,  m  ho  is  peculiar  for  the  harmony  and 
polish  of  his  versification,  and  for  the  sweetness  of  some 
of  his  poems,  which  are  exclusively  devoted  to  love, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  humorous  pieces.  Nothing 
is  knownofhim,  excepting  that  he  flourished  about  1350, 
and  that  he  lived  in,  or  was  conriccted  with  Dalkeith,  as 
appears  by  one  of  his  published  poems.  At  the  time 
■when  Montgomery  wrote  his  epistle  to  Hudson,  printed 
in  Sibbald's  Chronicle  of  Scottish  poetry,  Scott  appears, 
in  addition  to  his  advanced  age,  to  have  felt  all  the  ills 
of  poverty  so  frequently  attendant  on  poets. 

•  Go,  walk.  r- 

fThis  passage  confirms  Mr.  Pinkerton's  explanation  of  this 
word  in  the  following  line  of  Gawan  and  Gologrus,  vix  marched. 
Dr.  Jamieson  is  inclined  to  confine  the  meaning  to  ride. 

"Than  he  merkit  with  myrth  our  ane  grene  meid." 

%  Carriage.         $  Glanced.       '     ||  Earth.  U  llosc  bushes. 

♦*  Bank. 

ttl  have  not  met  with  this  word  elsewhere,  but  it  certainly  sig- 
nifies straight,  without  turnings.  Links  is  used  tor  the  vjndings 
of  a  river.  The  last  line  confirms  the  explanation  heie  '.flered. 
Waw  means  wave.  JJ  Siobhali,  a  seat  of  the  Perth  Jamily. 

"  Up 


189 

<*  Up  helsnm  hert !  thy  rutis  rais,  and  lawp,* 

Exalt  and  clym  within  my  breist  in  staige  '.+ 

Art  thou  nocht  wantoun,  haill,  and  in  gud  howp, 

Fermit  in  grace,  and  free  of  all  thirlaigt',^ 

Bathing  in  bliss,  and  sett  in  hie  curaige  ? 

Brasit  in  joy,  no  fait  may  the  affray, 

Having  thy  ladeis  hart  in  heretaige, 

In  blencheferme§  for  are  sallat  every  May  ; 

So  ncides  thow  nocht  now  sussy,||  sych,  uor  sorrovr, 

Sen  thow  art  sure  of  sollace  evin  and  morrow. 

Thow  Cupeid  rewardit  me  with  thiss  ; 

I  am  thy  awin  trew  liege,  withowt  tresione. 

Thair  levis  no  man  in  moir  eiss,  welth,  and  bliss  ; 

I  knaw  no  siching,  sadnes,  nor  yit  soun,1I 

Walking,**  thocht,  langour,  laraentatioun. 

Dolor,  dispair,  weiping,  norjelosye; 

My  breist  is  woyd,  and  purgit  of  pussoun  ;++ 

I  feill  no  pane,  I  haif  do  purgatorye, 

Bot  peirles,  perfytt,  paradisall  plesour, 

With  mirry  hairt  and  mirthfulnes  but  mesoure. 

My  lady,  lord,  thou  gaif  me  for  to  hrrd,|t 
Within  myne  armes,  1  nureiss  on  the  nychl, 
Kissing  I  say,  *'  My  bab,  my  tendir  bird, 
Sweit  maistres,  lady,  luiFe,  and  lusty  wicht, 
Steirr,  rewle,  and  gyder  of  my  sensses  richt!'* 
My  voice  snrmontis  the  sapheir  cludis  hie. 
Thanking  grit  God  of  that  tressour  and  micht. 

I  cort§§  hir  deir,  but  scho  fer  derrer  me, 
Quhilk  hafvind  honor,  fame  in  aventour, 
Committing  clene  hir  corse  to  me  in  cure. 

In  oxterisllll  cloiss  we  kiss,  and  cossisff  hairtis, 
Bryut  in  desyre  of  amouris  play  and  sporty 

•  Leap.  f  By  degrees  or  steps. 

t  Thraldome.  §  A  manner  of  holding  land. 

II  Care;  suuci,  Fr.  The  next  word  h  in  the  MS.  erroneously 
sytt.  ^  Swoon.  **  Waking. 

t|-  Poison,  metaphorically.  ||  Guard.  $§  Bought, 

nil  Embraces ;  originally  armpiis. 

Illf  Caress,  flatter.  Dr.  Jauiieson  seems  to  doubt  this  meaning 
in  the  following  passage  of  Sir  Egcr,  Sir  Grahame,  and  Sir  Gray- 
steel,  where  it  has  evidently  the  same  meaning  as  the  text  and.  the 
German  verb  kosen : 

Ye  will  not  cone,  sir,  as  l  ween, 
I  think  your  love  be  in  no  weir, 
Therefore  I  rede  ^rou  make  good  cheer. 

Meittand 


r 


igo 

Meittand  oure  lastis  spreitlos  we  twa  departis: 
Prolong  with  lasur,  lord,  I  the  exhort, 
Sic  tyme  that  we  may  both  tak  our  confort, 
First  for  to  sleip,  syne  walk*  withowt  espy  is  ! 
I  blame  the  cok,  I  pleine  the  uicht  is  schort. 
Away  I  went,  my  watch  the  cuschettt  cryis, 
Wissing  all  luvaris  leill  to  haf  sic  chance 
That  thay  may  haif  ws  in  rememb[^elrance. 

Q(l.  Scott. 
The  following  poem  is  anonj-mous,  and  evidently  a 
close  iniitation  of  the  former  in  a  different  verse,  and 
thus  gives  a  good  specimen  of  the  employment  of  the 
makaris.  From  the  slyle  I  should  conjecture  it  to  be 
Scott's  as  well  as  the  former. 

My  hairt  is  hech  dboif,  my  bo'dy  is  full  of  bliss, 

For  I  am  sett  in  lufe  als  weill  as  I  wald  wiss,  | 

I  lufe  my  lady  pure,  and  scho  luvis  me  againe, 

I  am  hir  seruiture,  scho  is  my  souerane  ; 

Scho  is  my  verry  harte,  1  am  hir  howp  and  heill,§ 

Scho  is  my  joy  invart,  I  am  hir  luvar  leill  ; 

I  am  hir  bound||  and  thrall,  scho  is  at  my  command, 

I  am  perpetuall  hir  man  both  fute  and  hand  : 

The  thing  that  may  hir  pleiss  my  body  sail  fulfill, 

Quhatevir  hir  diseiss  it  dois  my  body  ill. 

My  bird,  my  bony  aiie,  my  tendir  bab  vcnust, 

My  lufe,  my  lyfe  allane,  my  iyking.  and  my  lust  ! 

We  interchange  our  hairtis  in  vtheris  armis  soft, 

Shreitless  we  twa  depairtis  vsand  our  luvis  oft ; 

We  murne  quhen  licht  day  dawis,  we  pU^ne  the  nicht  ii 

schort ; 
We  curss  the  cok  that  crawis,  that  hinderis  our  disport. 
I  glowffinf  vp  agast  quhen  I  liir  miss  on  nicht, 
And  in  my  oxster  fast  1  find  the  bowster  richt ; 
Than  langour  on  nie  lyiss,  lyk  Morpheus  the  mair, 
Quhilk  caussis  me  vpryss  and  to  my  sueit  repair, 
And  than  is  all  the  sorrow  furth  of  rememb[e] ranee 
That  evir  1  had  a  forrow**  in  luvis  observance  : 
Thus  nevir  1  do  rest,  so  lusty  a  lyfe  I  leid, 
Quhen  thit  I  list  totest+f  the  well  of  womanheid. 

*  Wake.  t  Ringdove.  %  Wish. 

§  Hope  and  health.  ||  Bondsman. 

^  "  To  open  the  eyes  at  intervals  in  awaking  from  a  disturbed 
ileep  or  slumber."     Jamieson,  -ooce  Gliffin. 
**  Afore,  rhj/tkmi  gratia.     Toforoue  occurs  in  James  I.'s  Quair. 
tt  Taste. 

Luvaris 


191 

LuTaris  in  pane,  I  pray  God  send  yow  sic  remeld 
As  I  half  nycht  and  day,  yow  to  defende  from  dreid  ; 
Thairfoir  be  evir  trew  uuto  your  ladeis  fre 
And  thay  will  on  you  rew  as  niyne  has  done  one  me. 

The  next  is  a  love-song  from  an  anonymous  poet  to 
the  widow,  as  it  should  seem,  of  a  man  of  rank,  and 
affords  a  tolerable  specimen  of  the  amorous  ditties  with 
wbich  the  MS.  abounds  : 

**  O  lusty  flour  of  yowth,  bfnyng  and  suoit,* 

Fresch  blome  of  bewty,  blythfull,  brycht,  and  schenCj 

Fair  lufsum  lady,  gentill,  and  discret, 

Ynng  brekand  blossum  yit  on  the  stalk  grene, 

Delytsum  lilly,  lusty  for  to  be  sene, 

Be  glaid  in  hairt  and  expell  haviness; 

Bare  of  bliss  that  evir  so  blyth  has  bene  ? 

Dewoyd  langour,  and  lief  iu  lustiness. 

Brycht  sterne  at  morrow  that  dois  the  nycht  hin  chace+ 

Of  luvis  lychtsum  lyf  and  gyd,J 

Lat  no  dirk  clud  absent  from  ws  thy  face, 

Nor  lat  no  sable  from  ws  thy  bewty  hyd. 

That  hes  no  contort  quhair  that  we  go  or  ryd 

Bot  to  behald  the  beme  of  thy  brychtness  : 

Baneiss  all  baill  and  into  blyss  abyd  ; 

Dewoyd  langour,  and  lief  in  lustiness. 

Art  thow  plesant,  lusty,  yung,  and  fair. 
Full  of  all  Tertew  and  gud  conditioun, 
Rycht  nobill  of  blud,  rycht  wyss,  and  debonair, 
Honorable,  gentill,  and  faythfuU  of  renoun, 
Liberall,  lufsum,  and  lusty  of  persoun 
Quhy  suld  thow  than  lat  sadness  the  oppress  ? 
In  hairt  be  blyth  and  lay  ail  dolour  doun, 
Dewoyd  langour,  and  lief  in  lustiness. 

I  me  commend  with  all  humilitie 
Unto  thi  bewty  blisfull  and  bening, 
To  quhome  I  am,  and  sail  ay  serwand  be 
With  steidfast  hairt  and  faithfuU  trew  mening 
Unto  the  deid  without[en]  departing  ; 
For  quhais  saik  I  sail  my  pen  address 
Sangis  to  mak  for  thy  reconforting, 
That  thow  may  leif  in  joy  and  lustiness. 

*  The  manuscript  reads  brycht,  which  the  transcriber  caught 
from  the  next  line.    The  rhyme  points  out  the  variation. 
f  Chace  away.  %  This  line  evidently  wants  a  loot. 

'  O  fair 


O  fair  sueit  blossum  now  in  bewty  ilouris, 
Unfaidit  bayth  of  cullor  and  yertew,  ^ 

Thy  iiobill  lord  that  deid  hes  done  deyoir, 
Faid  nocht  with  weping  thy  vissage  fair  of  hew. 
O  lufsum  lusty  lady,  wyse  and  trew, 
Cast  oat  all  calr  and  comfort  do  incress, 
Exyll  all  sichand,*  on  thy  serwand  rew, 
Dewoyd  langour,  and  leif  in  lustiness. 

The  last  copy  of  verses  is  recommended  by  the  name 
of  the  author,  and  the  singularity  of  its  rhythmical  struc- 
ture, but  certainly  can  challenge  no  high  rank  among 
the  productions  of  William  Dumbar.  It  is  at  any  rate 
a  mite  towards  a  collection  of  his  works,  which,  to  the 
disgrace  of  his  country,  have  never  appeared  in  a  uni- 
form standard  edition. 

Qiiha  will  behaldofluve  the  chance, 

With  sueit  dissauyng  countenance, 

In  quhais  fair  dissimvlance 
May  none  assure  ? 

Quhilk  is  begun  with  inconstance, 

And  endis  nocht  but  variance  ; 

Scho  haidis  with  continwaace 
No  seruiture. 

Discretioun  and  considerance 
Ar  both  out  of  hir  governance, 
Quhairfoir  of  it  the  schort  pksanc« 

May  nocht  indure ; 
Scho  is  so  new  of  acquentance, 
The  auld  gais  fra  rememb[f]rancc  ; 
Thus  1  gife  our  the  observanss 

Of.luvis  cure. 

It  is  ane  point  of  ignorance 
To  luf  in  sic  distemperance, 
Sea  tyme  mispendit  may  avance 

No  creature. 
In  luve  to  keip  allegiance, 
It  war  als  nysst  ane  ordinance 
As  quha  wald  bid  ane  deid  man  dance 
In  sepulture. 

Finis,  q.  Dumbar. 
Edinburgh,  25  Aug.  1812.  •         II.  W. 

•  Sighing.  \  Foolish. 

Of 


193 

<Dtt^t  Hap  of  3Dame  ^ititlj. 

The  fabliau,  of  >vbiclj  1  transmit  an  abstract,  is  per- 
haps one  of  the  earliest  compositions  of  that  nature 
extant  in  our  language.  The  only  copy  which  1  have 
ever  met  with  occurs  in  the  Bodleian  library.*  The 
manuscript  whicli  contains  it,  appears  to  have  been 
written  about  the  year  ]  SOO,  but  to  the  poem  itself  I  should 
be  tempted  to  ascribe  a  date  still  earlier,  both  from  the 
Saxonisms  with  which  it  abounds,  and  the  very  sparing 
occurrence  of  words  derived  from  the  French,  which 
latter  circumstance  is  the  more  remarkable  as  it  is  pro- 
bably an  imitation,  and  a  very  close  one  as  to  the  story, 
of  a  French  original  analysed  by  Le  Grand. 

The  extreme  rarity  of  specimens  of  the  humorous  tale 
in  early  English  poetry,  and  the  interesting  example 
afforded  by  the  one  in  question  of  that  state  of  our  lan- 
guage in  which,  although  it  had  ceased  to  be  gram- 
matically Saxon,  it  had  as  yet  borrowed  little  or  nothing 
from  the  French,  must  apologise  for  the  preservation  of  a 
story,  that,  on  the  score  of  its  moral  value,  no  one 
"Would  have  wished  to  drag  from  its  obscurity. 

The  expressions  of  disapprobation  which  the  poet 
occasionally  bestows  on  the  depraved  heroine  of  his  tale 
must,  to  a  contemporary  audience  capable  of  immedi- 
ately understandir)g  its  language  and  enjoying  the  rude 
humour  which  it  certainly  possesses,  have  ojjerated  but 
as  \ery  slight  drawbacks  to  its  general  tendency.  In 
the  present  days,  however,  no  moral  danger  can  be  sus- 
pected from  the  perusal  of  such  antiquated  licentiousness. 
The  mischief  is  unfortunately  too  readily  to  be  found 
by  those  who  seek  it  in  a  shape  far  more  intelligible 
and  alluring. 

AnCHiEOPUILUS. 

a  comence  le  Fables  et  la  cointise  de  Dame  Siris, 

As  1  com  by  an  waie, 
llof  on  ioh  iierde  saie, 

Full  modi  men  and  proud, 

*  MS,  Digby,  86.  Some  account  of  the  contents  '<f  this  highly 
curious  MS.  may  be  found  in  the  appendix  to  Warton's  History  of 
Eng.  t'oetry.  ^ 

VOL.  JT.  o  Wi» 


194 

Wis  he  wes  of  lore, 
And  youthlich  under  yore,* 
And  clothed  in  fair  sroud. 

To  loTein  he  bcgon 
On  wedded  wymmon. 

(Therof  he  hevede  wrong.) 
His  herte  hire  wes  alon,+ 
That  reste  nevede  he  non, 

The  love  wes  so  strong. 

Wei  J  yerne  he  him  bithoute, 
Hon  he  hire  gete  moute, 

In  ani  cunnes  wise. 
That  befel  on  a  day, 
The§  loverde  wende  away, 

Hon  his  marchaundise. 

He  wende  him  to  j|thtn  Inne 
Ther  he  wonede  inne, 

That  wes  riche  Iwon. 
And  com  into  then  halle, 
**Ther  hoe  wes  srud  with  palle, 

And  thus  he  bigon 

*'  God  Almizten  be  herinne" — 

*'  Welcome,  so  ich  ever  bidde  wenne,"+f 

Quoth  this  wif, 
**  His  hit  thi  wille,  comme  and  site, 
"  And  wat  is  thi  wille  let  me  wite, 

*'  Mi  levelif. 

*'  Bi  howre  loverd  K<»vene  King, 
*'  If  I  mai  don  ani  thing, 

"  That  the  is  lef, 
^'  Thou  mizt  finden  me  ful  fre, 
*'  Fol  bletheli  wol  1  don  for  the, 

"  Withouten  gref." 

<*  Dame,  God  ye  foryelde, 

<'  Bote  on  that  thou  me  mout  bimelde. 

*  Young  in  age.  f  ^  as  fixed  upon  her. 

t  Earnestly.  §  The  husband  ( lord)  of  the  woman. 

H  The — It  appears  a  corruption  of  the  Saxon  tharn, 

f  House,  residence. 

•*  Where  she  was  clothed  in  her  robe.  Ther  and  than  are 
used  ihroughout  the  poem  for  where  and  when,  and  hoe  for  sA*. 

If  The  meaning  oi  the  latter  part  of  this  line  does  not  seem 
altogether  clear. 


195 

**  Ne  make  (he  wroth,* 
*'  Mine  herande  wille  I  to  the  bcde, 
*'  Bote  twratthen  the  for  ani  dede. 

((  Were  me  loth." 

**  Nai,  I  wis,  Wilekin, 

**  F^or  nothing  that  ever  is  min, 

"  Than  thou  hit  |yerne, 
*'  Houncurteis  ne  wiili  be 
**  Ne  con  I  noat  on  vilte, 

*'  Ne  noat  I  nel  lerne 

'*  Thou  mai  saien  alle  thine  wille> 

"  And  I  shall  herknen  and  sitten  stille, 

"  That  thou  have  told. 
**  And  if  that  thou  me  tellest  skil,§ 
*'  I  shal  don  after  thi  wil, 

*'  That  be  thou  bold. 

*'  And  than  thou  sale  me  ani  same,j| 
*'  Ne  shal  1  the  nouzt  blame 

''  For  thi  sawe." 
*'  Non  ich  have  wonne  leve, 
"  Gif  that  1  me  shuldegreve, 

*'  Hit  were  hounlawe. 

*'  Certes  Dame  thou  saiest  as  f  hende. 
"  And  I  shall  setteti  spel  on  ende,** 

"  And  tellen  the  al, 
"  What  ich  wolde,  and  wi  ich  com) 
'*  Ne  con  ich  saien  non  falsdom, 

"  Ne  non  1  ne  shal, 

*'  Ich  habbe  ilored  the  moni  yere, 
*'  +f  Than  ich  nabbe  noutben  her 

"Mi  love  to  schovre. 
*'  Wile  thi  loverd  is  in  toune, 

*  Bimfilde.  Betray,  inform  against.  Meldan,  A.  S.  prodere. 
The  general  sense  of  this  passage  appears  to  be — "  Dame  Heaven 
recompense  thee,  provided  thou  dost  not  betray  me,  or  make  thee 
vrath."  t  Ofi'end,  make  wrath.  |  Desire. 

§  If  thou  speakest  advisedly  to  me. 

II  Quaere  the  meaning  of  same  here,  can  it  be  a  mistake  for 
sJuime  ?  ^  Courteous. 

**  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  met  with  this  phrase  elsewhere :  it 
appears  to  mean,  "  I  will  be  brief  in  my  story,  and  mak«  no  delay 
in  coming  to  the  point." 
t  During  which  time, 

o  2  «  N« 


196 

*f  Nfi  mal  no  man  with  the  holden*  rQUQO 
"  With  no  thewet 

**  Yursten  dai  ich  henle  sal, 
*'  As  ich  wende  bi  the  wale, 

*'  Of  owre  sire. 
*'  The  told  me  that  he  was  gon 
f*  To  the  faireof  Botolfston 
*'  In  Liacolneschire. 

*'  And  for  ich  weste  that  he  wes  hout?;, 
*'  Therfore  ich  am  igon  aboute 

*'  To  speken  with  the. 
*'  Him  |burth  to  liken  wel  his  lif 
*'  That  mizte  welde  §sett  a  wif 

*'  In  privite, 

"  Dame,  if  hit  is  thi  wille, 
*'  Both  ||dernelike  and  stil 

"  Ich  wille  the  love."— 
**  That  wolde  I  don  for  non  thing, 
**  Bi  howre  loverd  hevene  King 

'*  That  ous  is  bove. 
**  Ich  habbe  mi  loverd  that  is  mi  spouse, 
*'  That  maiden  brouzte  me  to  house 

*'  f  Mid  menske  I  non 
*'  He  loveth  me,  and  ich  him  wel, 
*'  Oure  love  is  also  trewe  as  stel, 

*'  'Withouten**won. 

*'  Than  he  be  from  hom  on  his  hernde, 
**  Ich  were ++ounse]i,  ifichlernede 

*'  To  ben  on  hore. 
*'  That  ne  shall  nevere  be, 
*'  That  I  shal  don  selk  fassete, 

"  On  bedde,  ne  on  flore. 

*'  Never  more  his  lif  wile, 

**  Than  he  were  on  kondred  mile, 

♦  Talk,  conversation,  according  to  its  etymology,  secret  or 
njysterious  speech,  from  the  A.  S.  Rune,  which  from  meaning  a 
letter  came  very  naturally  in  an  ignorant  age  to  be  applied  to  any 
thing  beyond  the  knowledge  of tiie  multitude.  The  usage  of  the 
woruin  this  place  is  highly  appropjiate. 

t  In  no  manner.     A.  S.  Theaw,  ritus. 

%  Quaere  if  a  mistake  for  wurth  ?  §  Such, 

II  Privately,  dyrne,  A.  S.  dark. 

1J  Against  decency  will  I  nought.  ♦♦  Fail,  waning. 

tt  Wicked.     . 


19t 

^'  Hi  zende  Rome. 
*'  For  no  thing  ne  shuld  I  lake 
*'  Mon  on  erthe  to  ben  mi  *make 

*'  Ar  his  horn  come." 

The  lover  continues  for  some  time  to  urge  his  suii 
in  vain,  till  at  length  utterly  despairing  of  success 

<*  Dreri  mod  he  wetide  awai, 
And  thouzt  bothe  hiztand  dai 

Hire  al  for  to  wende, 
A  frende  him  radde  for  to  fare, 
And  leven  al  his  michele  kare 

To  dame  Sirith  the  hende. 

Thider  he  wente  him  anon, 
So  +swithe  so  he  mizte  gon> 

No  mon  he  ni  mette. 
Ful  he  was  of  Jtene  and  treie, 
Mid  wordes  milde  and  eke  sleie 

Fare  he  hire  grette." 

Dame  Sirith  upon  learning  his  ertand  begins  by  blam. 
ing  his  unlawful  wishes,  and  excusing  herself  from  being 
any  ways  concerned  in  promoting  them,  for  (says  she) 

*'  Ich  am  old,  and  sek,  and  lame, 

*'  Seknesse  haveth  maked  me  ful  tame. 

'*  Bless  ye,  bless  ye,  leve  knave, 

"  Lest  ye  mesaventure  have, 

*'  For  this  lesing  that  is  founden 

**  Uppon  me  that  am  hard  ibounden.§ 

^'  Ich  am  a  holi  wimmon, 

*'  On  witchecrafft  nout  I  ne  con, 

**  Bote  with  gode  menalmesdede 

**  Hke  dai  mi  lif  I  lede, 

*'  And  bid  mi  Pater-noster,  and  mi  crede, 

"  That  goed  hem  fal  at  here  nede, 

"  That  helpen  me  mi  lif  to  lede." 

Wilkin  however,  nothing  discouraged,  backs  his 
request  by  the  promise  of  "  mani  a  pounde  and  mani  a 
marke ;"  the  old  beldam  begins  to  relent,  she  asks. 

*  Companion.  t  Quick.  t  Sorrow  and  trouble 

$  For  this  wickedness  into  which  you  would  inveigle  me  who 

am  old  and  in  misfortune.    This  appears  to  he  the  general  sense 

of  the  passage. 

"Li« 


"  *L!z  me  not,  Wilekin,  ,bl  thi  f  sente 
*»  Lo?est  thou  wel  Dame  Margeri  ?" 

lie  replies  that  he  is  so  tiecply  enamoured  of  her  that 
he  shall  certainly  die  unless  he  obtain  his  wish  ;  "  sooner 
than  that  shall  happen,"  rejoins  Sirith,  "  1  will  under- 
take to  acconjplish  the  matter  for  you,  but  you  must 
promise  me  the  closest  secresy." 

*'  For  al  the  worlde  ne  woldi  nout 
**  That  ich  were  to  |chapitre  ibrouzt 

"  For  none  selke  werkes 
**  Mi  jugement  wtre  sone  igiven 
*'  To  ben  with  shame  somer  driven, 

*'  With  prestes  and  with  clarkes." 

He  promises  concealment,  gives  her  twenty  shillings 
as  earnest  of  a  much  larger  bounty  in  the  event  of  her 
success,  and,  her  scruples  thus  overcome, 

Dame  Sirith  bigon  to  go 

As  a  wrecche  that  is  wo, 

§That  hpe  come  hire  to  then  inne, 

Ther  this  goed  wif  wes  withinue» 

Tho  hoe  to  the  dore  com, 

Swithe  Ifreuliche  hoe  bigon. 

*'  Loverde,"  hoe  seith,  *'  wo  is  old  wives, 

**  That  in  poverte  ledeth  ay  lires. 

*'  UNot  nomon  so  muchel  of  pyne, 

*'  Aspowre  wif  that  falleth  in  ausine** 

**  That  mai  ilke  mon  bi  me  wite, 

**  For  mai  I  nouther  gange  ue  site. 

**  Ded  woldi  ben  fnl  fain, 

*'  Hounger  and  thurst  me  haveth  nei  slain, 

**  Ich  ne  mai  mi  limes  on  wold++ 

*'  For  mikel  hounger,  and  thurst,  and  cold. 

**  War  to  liveth  selke  a  wrecche? 

**  Wi  nil  dethe  mi  sonle  fetche?" — 

*  Lie  not  to  me.  t  Salvation. 

t  From  Sirith's  apprehensions  of  bein":  brought  before -a  chapter, 
it  is  possible  the  author  meant  to  describe  her  as  a  wortiiless  nun : 
The  ecclesiastical;  courtsj  however,  took  cognizd^nce  of  witchcraft 
and  the  like  oifences,  equally  in  the  persons  of  the  laity. 

§  Untill.  II  Ruefully.  ^  Has  not. 

*♦  I  cannot  find  this  word  in  any  glossary.  Can  it  signify 
alms  ?  or  aay  vjie  read  ansine,  and  interpret  it  care  (from  anxius), 
though  this^  iSft  fear,  equally  unsupported  by  authority, 

tt  Movt. 

««  Seli 


199 

*'  Sell  wif,  Goed  the  *hounbinde, 
■**  To  dai  wil  I  the  mete  finde, 

"  For  love  of  Goed. 
**  Ich  have  frcurthe  of  thi  wo, 
'*  For  evele  iclothed  I  se  the  go, 

*'  And  evele  y  shoed, 
**  Com  her.n.  Ich  wile  the  fede"— 
*'  Goed  Almizten  do  the  mede." — 

*'  Have  her  fles,  and  eke  bred, 

*'  And  make  the  glad,  hit  is  mi  red. 

"  And  have  here  the  coppe  with  the  drinke"— * 

**  Goed  the  befal  for  thi  ifswinke," 

Then  spak  that  holde  wif, 

(Evele§  awarie  hire  lif) 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  that  ever  I  live ! 

*'  Al  the  sinne  ich  wold  forgive 

*'  The  raon  that  smite  off  min  heved. 

<*  Ich  wolde  min  lif  ware  me  bireved" — 

"  Seli  wif,  what  eilleth  the?" 

*'  Bote  ethe  mai  I  sori  be. 

'*  Ich  hevede  a  douzter  feir.and  fre, 

*'  Feiror  ne  mizhte  no  mon  se. 

**  Hoe  hevede  a  curteis  hussebond, 

*'  Freour  mon  mizte  no  mon  3nde. 

*•  Mi  douter  lovede  him  al  to  wel, 

*'  For  thi  mak  I  sori  del. 

*'  Uppon  a  dai  he  w^es  oute  wente, 

*'  And  tharforn  wes  mi  douter  shend. 

*'  He  hede  on  erode  out  of  toune, 

*'  And  com  a  modi  clarc  with  croune  ]|| 

*'  To  mi  douter  his  love  bede, 

*'  And  hoe  nolde  nout  folowe  his  rede. 

**  He  ne  mizte  his  will  have, 

**  For  nothing  he  mizte  crave, 

*'  Thenne  bigon  the  clerc  to  wiche, 

**  And  fshop  mi  douter  til  a  biche. 

"  This  is  my  douter  that  ich  of  speke. 

<'  For  **dele  of  hire  min  herte  breke, 

*'  Loke  hon  hire  heien  greten, 

**  On  hire  cheken  the  teres  meten. 

*  Release  thee  from  thy  distress,  unbind  thee. 

t  Pity.  {  Labour.  §  Worry,  torment. 

II  Having  his  head  shorn. 

ji  Transformed,  shaped.  *•  Sorrow. 

*'  Forthi 


200 

*'  Forthi,  Dame,  were  hit  no  wonder 

"  Than  min  herte  bursteassiinder. 

**  And  wose  ever  is  yonj;  houssewifle, 

*'  Iloe  loveth  ful  luittl  hire  lif, 

*'  An  eni  clerc  of  luve  hire  bede, 

*'  Bole  hoe  graunte  and  lete  him  spede." 

The  innocent  victim  of  this  detestable  artifice  is  natu' 
rally  terrified  into  a  resolution  of  purchasing  her  secu* 
rity  from  a  like  transformation,  at  the  expense  of  he'' 
honour,  and  the  old  wretch,  liavini^  procured  Wilkin  a 
second  and  more  satisfactory  interview,  receives  her 
reward  and  declares  her  readiness  to  assist  any  other 
unsuccessful  lovers  on  the  like  condition. 

*'  And  wose  is  onwis 
**  And  for  non  pris 

*'  Ne  con  geten  his  leveraon 
**  I  shal  for  mi  mede 
*'  Garen  him  to  spede 

*'  For  fill  wel  f  con." 
Explicit. 


Sl^etrical  Account  of  toliat  pajfiSeli  at  iDrfocH  on  tl)e 
SDitiotccbettoeenliing  ^cncp  (21313131,  anU  j^Dueen 
Cat!)arme,  bp  Sfllilliam  jforrejst,  pciesir* 

The  following  history  of  the  whole  of  the  transactions 
in  the  university  of  Oxford,  relative  to  Henry  *s  divorce, 
cannot  but  be  interesting,  particularly  as  the  author  was 
present  on  the  spot  during  the  whole  discussion,  as 
appears  by  the  following  passage  in  his  poem : 

"  at  totlc^  trauel^nge  certapnl^e  toass  31, 
attcntipnge  tpon  a  certa^ne  ffooDe  man, 
22lt)cartore  in  tbe  0amc  31  JJomet^inffsfape  can/' 

Wood  has  given  a  portion  of  it  in  his  Histort/  and 
Antiquities  of  Oxford,  but  it  is  now  reprinted  entire 
from  the  original  MS.  preserved  in  the  Bodleian  library. 
This  was  originally  in  the  possession  of  Ralph  Sheldon, 
esq.  of  Beoiy,  Warwickshire,  an  intimate  friend  of 
Wood's,  who  presented  it  to  the  Oxford  antiquary ;  and 
Wood,  in  the  year  1692,  sold  it  to  the  university. 


201 

"  I  have  discovered  from  it,"  says  Wood,*  "  many- 
things  relating  to  the  affairs  of  Oxford,  acted  during 
the  time  of  the  divorce,  which  1  could  never  see  else- 
where." 

Some  account  of  the  author  and  his  other  productions 
will  be  found  in  the  Athene  Oxonienses,  vol.  i.  col. 
297,  edit.  4to. 

It  should  be  added,  that  as  Forrest  was  a  strong  papist, 
there  can  be  little  doubt  but  he  has  given  a  high  co- 
loured picture  of  the  opposition  made  to  the  king's  com- 
missioners by  the  university,  yet  notwithstanding  this, 
many  of  the  circumstances  he  has  recorded  are,  in  all 
probability,  facts  that  really  occurred. 

Walter  sendethe  to  Oxforde  to  haue  his  case  discussed^ 
John  Longplande  (busshoppe  of  Zjincolne)  his  cheif 
commyssioner ;  fffyer  Nicholas  defendaunte  in  the 
same.  Ffyue  inceptours,  doctors  {with  sundry  other) 
specially  withestandinge  thearin^  wheare  zcomen  shewed 
them  se/fs  on  Grysildys  party e  ;  Thunyuersiteis  scale 
(by  stealthe)  goaten ;  and  what  myseryes  ensued, 
ca,  9. 

'^  Yeat,  for  that  Walter  wokle  not  be  thought 
(Of  headye  poure)  to  worke  contrariouslye, 
Hee  sent  to  Oxforde,  as  playnnes  he  sought 
To  haue  his  case  theare  tryed  by  the  clergie. 
At  whiche  trauelynge  certaynlye  was  I 
Attendynge  vpon  a  certayne  goode  man  ; 
Whearfore  in  the  same  I  somewhat  saye  can. 

Thither  was  sent,  as  cheeif  commyssioner 

The  Busshoppe  of  Lijncolne,  one  John  Langelande^ 

Withe  certayne  other  that  well  cowlde  flatter, 

The  learned  judgment  theare  to  vndrestande  ; 

Wheare  one  ffryer  Nicholas  tooke  muche  in  hande, 

As  cheeif  defendaunte  in  the  foresaide  case, 

Whoe  fownde  hym  selfe  macht,  euyn  to  the  harde  face. 

But  theare  was  vsed  no  indifferencye  ; 
Suche  as  by  learnynge  made  againste  the  kynge, 
They  were  redargued  moste  cruellye, 
Threatened  also  to  forgoe  their  lyuynge  : 
On  thother  syde,  all  thearto  inclynynge, 

*  Athena  Oxon.  p.  298. 

They 


202 

Thev  hti(^  hv^he  r hearinge^  with  meerle  othprwaye  ^ 
Ffal9*»ho(Upyuphing^,  trutlw  quaqyngc  for  fraye. 

That  tymf-  ^^  a^^f  theare  shoulde  haue  gone  forward*, 
Whearr-  seauyn  famous  clarks,  that  inreptors  weare, 
Bycausp  (in  this  case)  ffyue  wolde  not  drawe  towarde, 
*lt  wns  dyfferred  to  thoir  htanye  cheare  ; 
For  that  their  cheeif  flfrondys  weare  presentlye  theare. 
Mawdelaye,  Mooreinan,  Holy  man  also, 
Mortymer,  Cooke,  withe  other  twoe  moe.* 

Theis  ffyue  in  nowise  wolde  graunte  their  consents, 
The  regent  maisters  weare  of  the  same  mynde, 
Rather,  they  graunted,  to  forgoe  howse  and  rents, 
Then  weetinglye,  so  to  shewe  them  selfs  biynde. 
The  proctors,  for  gaynes  they  hoaped  to  fynde, 
(Throughe  frendeshippe  they  made)  obteyned  the  grac« 
Of  Busshoppe  Langlande,  the  acte  to  take  place. 

The  matier  longe  tyme  theare  hangynge  in  suspense, 

Witheoute  hauyng  thunyuersiteis  seale, 

As  to  confyrme  Walter's  foresaide  pretence ; 

For  wiiiche  the  busshoppe  harde  threalnyngs  did  deale, 

To  his  reproache,  and  hynderaunce  of  good  heale. 

If  so  that  some  theare  had  had  hym  at  large, 

I  wolde  of  his  life  haiie  taken  no  charge. 

For  on  the  outegatys  wheare  hee  by  nyghts  laye, 

Weare  roapes  faste  nayled,  withe  gallowes  drawne  by, 

To  this  entent,  as  a  man  myght  well  saye, 

Ifwee  so  myght,  suche  weare  thy  destynye. 

His  strruaunts  ofte  handelod  accordynglye. 

As  one  (indeede)  makynge  water  at  a  wall, 

A  stone  (right  heauye)  on  hym  one  let  fall. 

Women  (that  season)  in  Oxforde  weare  busye. 

Their  harts  weare  goode  it  appeeared  no  lesse ; 

As  Ffryer  Nicholas  chaunced  to  come  by, 

Halas!  (said  some)  that  we  myght  this  knaue  dresse, 

For  his  vnthankefuU  daylye  bu syncs 

Againste  our  queene,  good  Guysilidts. 

He  shoulde  euyl  to  chceaue,t  hee  sholde  not  sure  mysse. 

♦  These  were  Robert  Aldridge  and  Thomas  Charnock,  a  domi- 
nicuD. 

,  t  He  should  have  tome  to  evil.    So  Chaucer,  "  yevel  mote  he 
chteve."  Canterbury  I'ales,  v.  16693. 

Withe 


203 

Withe  that  a  woman  (I  sawe  it  trulye,)  ^^ 
A  lurape  of  osmundys*  let  harde  at  hym  fljTige, 
Whiche  myste  of  his  noddle,  the  more  pytie, 
And  on  his  (fryer's  heelys  it  came  trycolynge. 
Whoe  (sodaynly)  as  hee  it  perceauynge. 
Made  his  complaynte  vpon  the  women  so, 
That  thirtye  themorowe  weare  in  bifckerdo. 

Theare  they  contynaed  three  dayes  and  three  nyghts, 
Till  woorde  was  sentdowne  from  Walter  the  kynge, 
Whoe  fret  at  the  harte  as  vexed  withe  spryts, 
That  Grisildt's  parte  they  weare  so  tenderynge : 
To  all  that  so  dyd,  this  woorde  downe  sendynge, 
That  magre  their  teeathes,  liee  wolde  haue  his  furthe, 
And  ere  longe  tyme  make  some  of  them  small  wurthe. 

But  yeat  for  all  that,  the  ffyue  foresaide  dark. 

Withe  moste  of  the  regent  maisters,  that  tyde, 

For  all  the  threatnyngs  that  flaterers  bark, 

From  that  was  the  right  they  wolde  no  whit  slyde. 

The  busshoppe  Langelande  dyd  thus  then  prouyde, 

A  conuocation  of  certayne  to  call, 

And  gote  the  seale,  as  consented  of  all. 

Ffor  whiche  was  weepings  and  lamentation, 
I  was  then  present,  and  herde  their  complaynte. 
Halas  !  (they  saide)  in  pytefuU  fashyon, 
Nowe  is  goode  Oxforde  for  eauer  attaynte  ; 
Thowe  that  haste  florisched  art  become  faynte  ; 
Thowe  weare  vnspotted  till  this  present  daye, 
With  truthe  euermore  to  holde  and  to  saye. 

But  notwithestandinge  consyderinge  as  thus, 

Thoue  weare  withe  powre  and  myght  ouerlayde, 

Thoue  thearfore  remaynyste  irinoxius. 

As  dothe  (by  vyolence)  the  rauysched  mayde. 

Eaueriche  his  duetye  on  eache  pate  bee  payde, 

That  is,  whoe  of  ys  hathe  wronged  the  right,  • 

God,  to  their  deserts,  their  dooyngs  requyte. 

This  to  this  ende  wee  put  in  remembraunce, 
To  the  knowledge  of  oure  posterytee. 
That  all  that  season  made  not  dyssemblaunce, 
But  tenne  to  one  stucke  to  the  verytee. 
But  cheife  that  ought  had  no  syncerytee, 

*  This  is  a  kind  of  fern  which  grows  in  bogs  and  pools.  There 
are  various  species  of  it,  for  an  account  o?  which  see  Miller's 
Gardeners  Dictionary. 

1  ^     False 


204 


False  ambition,  and  keepynge  yn  fauou?    ■      •     - 
Declared  in  this  muche  lewde  behauour. 

In  this  mateir  to  bee  adnoted, 

What  euyl  counsell  withe  pryncys  raaye  induce, 

For  consequentlye  this  royalnie  was  sorted, 

As  water  breakynge  ouer  hedde  or  sluce. 

All  good  ordres  weare  cleane  stt  oute  of  vse, 

Suche  calarayteis  ensuynge  theare  vpon 

To  this  royalmys  neare  subuersion. 

Then  florisched  fflatery  tryutnphantlye  j 
Then  ffalschod  beeare  rule,  and  truthe  set  a  syde  ; 
Then  weare  the  goode  maligned  throughe  enuye  ; 
Then  was  true  meekenes  ouercome -withe  pryde  j 
Then  to  perdition  all  goodenes  faste  hyde  ; 
Then  was  selfe-wyil  cheif  ruler  ouer  all ; 
Then  myght  in  right  none  for  aduocat  call. 

Then  of  the  churche  began  thaffliction; 

Then  entred  heresies  cursed  and  nought ; 

Then  encreased  Goddys  malediction  ; 

Then  his  due  honour  in  great  decaye  brought ; 

Then  the  goode  not  regarded  as  they  ought, 

But  euery  ribaulde  myght  them  checke  and  chace  j 

Tlie  goode  depryued,  the  badde  in  their  place. 

In  earthe  they  cowlde  not  their  malice  extende. 

But  vnto  heuen  shewed  indignation  ; 

The  holye  saynctys  theare  they  dyd  discommeude, 

By  too  too  muche  abomynation. 

Sclaunderinge  certayne  Tndre  this  faschion, 

Howe  holye  virgyns  of  no  lyttle  some,* 

"Weare  concubynes  to  the  busshoppe  of  Rome< 

The  gloryous  perpetuall  virgyn  Rlarye, 
No  better  esteamed  then  an  other  woman  ; 
Eache  dounge  gell+  as  goode  as  the  sanctuarye  : 
Theis  myscheifs,  withe  hundrede  folde  mo,  began 
At  the  incumynge  of  (his  newe  queene  Anne, 
^Vhoe,  as  she  was,  declared  at  thelaste,t 
Whome,  God  vanysched  withe  muche  sodayne  Waste. 

As  good  and  blessed  inducethe  vertoe. 
And  woorkethe  all  meanys  to  mayntayne  the  same. 
So,  the  malignaunte  dothe  vertue  subdue, 
Bycause  their  doyngis  shee  dothe  fierslye  blame  : 

•  Summ,  price,  estimation.  f  Dung-kill, 

t  W/io  discaveied  her  real  character  at  last, 

Prooif, 


205 

Prooif,  who  so  notethe,  vice  endethe  withe  shanuB. 
Then  was  no  wondre  this  alteration, 
To  breede  great  meanys  of  desolation. 

Ffor  certaynlye  vpon  this  induction, 
Entred  in  thi§  royalme  suche  innouation 
To  the  pooare  manny's  yttre  destruction . 
Raysinge  of  rents  in  wondreful  fashion, 
From  one  to  fyue  in  fnl  numeration, 
To  cawsyuge  of  dearthe  in  vytayl  and  warys,* 
Withe  other  sundrye  ineuytable  carys. 

So  muche  the  bodye  not  heere  moles tynge, 
But  hundredfolde  more  endaungeringe  the  sowle  ; 
At  flastynge  and  prayinge  was  made  but  iestinge. 
The  vile  ignoraunte  the  clarke  to  controwie; 
All  holye  cerymonyes  coniuringe  the  mowle.+ 
Eache  cockynge  cobler  and  spittyll  howse  proctor 
In  learnynge  taken  so  goode  as  the  doctor. 

In  tokne  yeat  more  of  infidelytee, 

Downe  went  the  crosses  in  eauerye  countraye. 

Goddy's  seruaunts  vsed  withe  muche  crudelytee, 

Dysmembred  (like  beasts)  in  thopen  highe  waye  lave  : 

Their  inwardys  pluckte  oute  and  harts  where  they, 

in  suche  moste  greuous  tyrannycall  sorte, 

That  to  to  shamefuU  weare  heere  to  reporte. 

Shortelye  after  to  mende  the  mateir  more, 
Churches  and  monasteries  downe  they  went, 
To  haue  the  treasure  speciallye  thearfore, 
Althoughe  they  fayned  for  other  eutent : 
After  this  prouerbe  to  like  consequent ; 
The  glouer  (crqftelye)  brought  this  reason  yn. 
The  dogge  to  bee  madde,  all  to  haue  his  skynne. 

Yeat  this  was  not  the  vttremuste  euyl, 

Theye  nybbed  Christ's  faithe  after  their  pleasure  ; 

So  weare  they  ledde  by  their  maister  the  dcuyl. 

For  on  the  truthe  they  lyed  oute  of  measure. 

The  whoale  heere  to  wright  I  haue  no  leasure, 

But  to  this  ende  I  haue  rehersed  this. 

What  came  by  exchaunge  of  goode  Grisilidis." 

P.B. 

♦  Victuals  and  wares. 

f  I  take  the  meaning  of  this  line  to  be,  all  holy  ceremonies  were 
mocked  at.     Mr.  Upton  in  his  MS.  notes  to  the  Etymologicum  of 
Junius  {Bibl.  Bodl.)  explains  "  to  mow,"  os  distorquere.    Chaucer 
uses  Tiiowe  in  the  fourth  book  of  Troilus  and  Cresseide, 
•  Then  laughith  she, and  luakith  him  the  mowe."  Edit.  Urry,  p.  305. 


206 

I  Toxophihs^  the  schoh  of  shootinge  conteyned  in  two 
bookes.  To  all  Genllemen  andyomen  of  Englande, 
pleasaunte  for  theyr  pasfyme  to  rede,  and  profitable 
for  theyr  use  tofolow,  both  in  war  andjjcace.  f  Col.J 
Deo  gratias.  JLondini.  In  osdibus  Edouardi  rVhyt- 
church.  Cum  priuilegio  ad  imprimendum  solum 
J 345.  qto.* 

Of  a  work  twice,  at  least,  reprintedt  lately,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  possess  the  reader  of  an  omission  which 
probably  could  not  be  supplied  from  the  rarity  of  the 
lirst  edition.  That  is  the  original  dedication  to  Henry 
VIII.  the  more  curious  from  the  author's  confession, 
*'  that  he  had  at  that  lime  a  desire  of  travelling  into 
Italy,  and  was  in  hopes  of  obtaining,  by  the  dedication 
of  his  book  to  the  king,  a  pension  which  might  enable 
him  to  fulfil  his  desire.^"     It  follows : 

*'  To  the  moste  graciouse,  and  our  most  drad  Soueralgne 
Lord,  Kyng  Henry  the  VIII.  by  the  grace  of  God,  Kyiigof 
Eoglande,  Fraunce  and  Irelande,  Defender  of  the  faythe, 
and  of  the  churche  of  Englande  and  also  of  Irelande,  in  earth 
supreme  head,  next  vnder  Christ,  be  al  health,  Tictorie  and 
felicitie. 

*  The  above  title  of  Ascham's  Toxophilus  is  taken  from  the 
head  of  the  table  of  Contents.  The  first  leaf  has  the  royal  arms 
engraved,  accom.panied  with  Latin  and  English  verses,  as  largely 
and  with  accuracy  described  by  Herbert,  p.  541:  but  tliis  leaf 
having  on  the  reverse  the  lines  by  Walter  Haddon,  that  writer  is 
scarcely  correct  in  designating  it  a  frontispiece.  The  two  books 
are  particularly  noted  by  the  capitals  A  and  B  in  the  running  title, 
and  a  renewed  pagination:  the  whole  volume  extends  to  Y  iiij,  be- 
sideseight  leaves  of  introduction.  This  is  certainly  thefirst  edition, 
though  composed  in  the  year  preceding,  as  stated  in  the  following 
title  of  the  second  edition: — Toxophilvs,  the  schole,  or  partitions 
of  shooting  contayned  in  ij  bookes,  writte  by  Roger  Ascham  1544, 
and  now  newly  perused.  Pleasauntfor  all  Gentlemen  and  Yomen 
of  England  for  theyr  pastime  to  reade,  and  profitable  for  their  vse 
to  folowe  both  in  warre  and  peace.  Anno  1571.  Imprinted  at 
London  in  Fletestreate  neare  to  Saint  Dunstones  Churche  by  Tho- 
mas Marshe,  qto. 

f  Nearly  verbatim  by  the  Reverend  John  Walters,  M.  A. 
Master  of  Ruthin  school,  and  late  fellow  of  Jesus  College,  Oxford: 
at  Wrexham,  J 788.  Also  in  the  edition  of  Ascham's  English 
works,  Publislied  by  Mr.  James  Bennet,  sometime  a  schoolmaster 
at  Hoddesdon.    Herbert,  ut  sup. 

t  Biog.  Britannica,  vol.  i.  p.  282,  note  B. 

What 


207 

*'  What  tyrae  as  moste  gracious  Prince,  your  highiies  this 
last  year  past,  tooke  that  your  moost  honorable  and  victorious 
iourney  into  Fraunce,  accompanied  with  such  a  porte  of  the 
Nobilitie  and  yeomanrie  of  Englande,  as  neyther  hath  bene 
lyke  knovien  by  experience,  nor  yet  red  of  in  historic; 
accompanied  also  with  the  daylie  prayers,  good  hartes,  and 
willesof  all  and  euery  one  your  graces  subiectes,  lefte  behinde 
you  here  at  home  in  Englande  :  the  same  tyme,  I  beinge  at 
jny  booke  in  Cambrige,  sorie  that  my  litle  habilitie  could 
stretche  out  no  better  to  helpe  to  forward  so  noble  an  enter- 
price^  yet  with  ray  good  wylle,  prayer,  and  harte,  nothinge 
behynde  hyra  that  was  formoste  of  all,  conceyued  a  wonder- 
ful desyre,  bi  the  praier,  wishing,  talking,  and  communicatio 
that  was  in  euery  mas  mouth,  for  your  Grace's  moost  victoriouse 
retourne,  to  offer  vp  sumthinge,  at  your  home  cumming  to 
your  Highnesse,  which  shuid  be  a  token  of  mi  loueand  deutie 
toward  your  Maiestie,  and  also  a  signe  of  my  good  minde 
and  zeale  toward  mi  countrie, 

"  This  occasion  geuen  to  me  at  that  time,  caused  me  to 
take  in  hand  againe,  this  litle  purpose  of  shoting,  begon  of 
me  before,  yet  not  ended  tha,  for  other  studies  more  mete 
for  that  trade  of  liuinge,  whiche  God  and  mi  frendes  had  set 
me  vnto.  But  when  your  grace's  raoste  ioifuU  and  happie 
victorie  preueted  mi  dailie  and  spedie  diligencie  to  performe 
this  matter,  I  was  compelled  to  waite  an  other  time  to  pre- 
pare and  offer  vp  this  litle  boke  vnto  your  Maiestie.  And 
■whan  it  hath  pleased  youre  Highnesse  of  your  infinit  good- 
nesse,  and  also  your  most  honorable  counsel  to  know  and 
peruse  ouer  the  contentes,  and  some  parte  of  this  boke,  and 
so  to  alow  it,  that  other  me  might  rede  it,  throughe  the  fur- 
deraunce  and  setting  forthe  of  the  right  worshipfuU  and  mi 
singuler  good  Master  Sir  William  Pagette  Knight,  moost 
worthie  secretarie  to  your  highnes,  and  most  open  and  redie 
fiuccouretoalpoore  honest  learned  mes  sutes,  I  moost  hum- 
blie  beseche  your  Grace  to  take  in  good  worthe  this  litle 
treatise  purposed,  bego,  and  ended  of  me  onelie  for  this 
intent,  that  labour,  honest  pastime  and  vertu,  might  recouer 
againe  that  place  and  right,  that  idlenesse,  vntbrifte,  gamning 
and  vice  hath  put  them  fro. 

'*  And  althoughe  to  haue  written  this  boke  either  in  Latin  or 
Greke  (which  thing  I  wold  be  verie  glad  yet  to  do,  if  I 
might  surelie  know  your  Grace's  pleasure  therein)  had  bene 
more  easier  and  fit  for  mi  trade  in  study,  yet  neuerthelesse,  I 
supposiuge  it  no  point  of  honestie,  that  mi  commodite  should 
Btop  and  hinder  ani  parte  either  of  the  pleasure  or  profite  of 

manle. 


208 

manie,  haup  written  this  En^lishe  matter  in  the  English^ 
toneu<»,  for  Englishe  men;  where  in  this  I  trust  that  your 
grace  (if  it  shall  please  your  ilighnesse  to  rede  it)  shal  per. 
ceaue  it  to  be  a  thiuge  honeste  for  me  to  write,  plfasaunt  Tor 
some  to  rode,  and  profitab'e  for  n)anie  to  folow,  contfning  a 
pastime,  honest  for  the  minde,  holsomc  for  the  body,  fit  for 
eueri  man,  vile  for  no  man,  vsing  the  day  and  ooe  plac»-  for 
bonestic  to  redo  it ;  not  lurking  in  corners  for  misordijr  (o 
abuse  it.  Therefore  I  trust  it  shal  apere,  to  be  bothe  a  sure 
token  of  my  zeele  to  set  forwarde  shootinge,  and  some  signe 
of  my  minde,  towardes  honestie  and  learnin:;e. 

Thus  I  wil  trouble  your  grace  no  longer,  but  with  my 
daylie  praier  I  wil  beseche  God  to  preserue  your  Grace,  in 
al  health  and  felicitie  :  tothefeare  and  ouerthrowe  of  all  your 
ennemies ;  to  the  pleasure,  ioyfulnesse  and  succour  of  al 
your  subiectes  :  to  the  vtter  destruction  of  papislrie  -nd 
lieresie  :  to  the  contiuuall  setting  forth  of  Goddes  worde  and 
hisglorye.     Your  Grace's  most  bounden  scholer, 

Roger  Ascham. 
E.  Hood. 


f  A  Remembrance  of  the  Honors  due  to  the  Life  and 
Death  of  Robert  Earle  of  Salisburj/^  Lord  Treasurer 
of  England,  Sfc.  (  Wood-cut,  head  of  the  Earl,*  peaked 
beard  and  whiskers,  hair  in  front  erect,  broad  ruff.) 
Imprinted  At  London  for  John  Wright,  and  are  to 
he  sold  at  his  shop  neere  Christ  Church  doorp.  1612. 
4to.  extends  to  sign.  D,  iv. 

Written  by  Richard  Johnson  (author  of  A  Crorme 
Garland  of  Golden  Roses,  8cc.)  and  contains  a  life  of 
the  Earl  in  prose,  and  at  the  end  A  Mourner^s  Passion 
for  the  losse  of  the  aforesaid  nobleman  deceased,  in  verse, 
commencing, 

*'  The  world  (I  see)  is  waxt  vnkinde, 
And  time  forgets  what  time  hath  done  ; 
And  spightfull  spight  weares  out  of  minde, 
The  doubtfull  race  great  men  doe  run." 

At  sign.  D  ii.  an  account  of  the  funeral  in  prose,  and  at 
D  iii.  b.  Of  the  miserable  estate  of  worldly  estates  all  sub- 
iect  to  change  and  times  enuie.  Five  stanzas  of  six 
lines  each. 

B.  L.  O. 

•  Not  mentioned  by  Granger. 


209 

1  A  Boole  of  Christian  Prayers,  collected  out  of  the 
aunciet  writers,  and  best  learned  in  our  tyme,  worth?/ 
to  be  read  with  an  earnest  mynde  of  all  Christians,  in 
these  daun^eroiis  and  troublesome  dayes,  that  God  for 
Christes  sake  will  yet  be  mercifull  unto  us.  At  Jjon- 
don.  Printed  by  John   Daye,  dwellyng  over  Aiders^ 

fate,  1581.  Cum  priuilegio.  [Colophon.]  At 
4ondon,  printed  by  John  Daye,  dwellyng  oner 
Alder sgate  beneath  Saint  Marlines.  Anno  1581. 
Cum  gratia  et  priuilegio  Regies  Maiestatis.  Small 
4to. 


The  colophon  is  under  a  beautiful  wood-cut  of  two 
figures  of  a  sage  and  a  gentleman  pointing  to  a  figure  of 
Death  recumbent  on  a  tomb,  from  the  centre  of  which 
springs  a  tree :  —  a  label  from  the  sa^e,  and  another  writtea 
round  the  tree,  have  these  words  :  Etsi  mors  indies 
accelerat,  vivet  tamen  post  funera  virtus  :  in  the  distance 
a  rock  crowned  with  a  castle,  overhanging  the  sea. 

According  to  Herbert,  I.  645,  there  was  a  former 
edition  in  1578,  and  a  later  in  1590. 

The  borders  of  every  page  of  this  extraordinary  book 
are  most  richly  adorned  with  an  endless  variety  of 
wood-cuts,  admirably  designed  and  cut,  after  Albert 
Durcr,  &c.  containing  the  life  and  passion  of  Christ. 
Then  follow  the  Cardinal  Virtues  treading  their  oppo- 
sites  under  their  feet — Knowledge,  Faith,  Hope,  Pa- 
tience, Humility,  Mercy,  Concord,  Love,  Wisdom,  In- 
dustry, Memory,  Justice,  Courage,  Temperance,  So- 
briety, Chastity,  Perseverance,  Charity.  These  extend 
to  sign,  P.  ij.  Then  come  the  Senses,  Sight,  Hearing, 
Taste,  Smelling,  Touching.  On  the  reverse  of  Q.  i. 
begins  a  representation  of  the  End  of  the  World,  which 
extends  to  sign.  R.  i. 

Then  follow  the  Virtues  again,  with  a  new  combina- 
tion of  the  other  ornaments  which  accompanied  each 
figure,  on  the  other  sides  of  the  margin  ;  and  the  Senses 
and  End  of  the  World  in  the  same  manner. — Last  comes 
the  Dance  of  Death  after  Holbein.  At  the  bottom  of 
each  of  these  is  an  altar-tomb  with  the  ensignia  of  mor- 
tality— each  inscribed  with  two  verses.  This  series  of 
figures  is  twice  repeated ;  and  the  work  ends  at  fol.  140. 

VOL.  IV.  p  Oa 


310 

Oh  llie  back  of  tlie  title  is  a  fiii^urc  of  Q.  Elizabeth, 
knccltn^  before  a  (able,  with  a  book  open  on  it — ove^. 
her  ib  a  rich  canopy  ;  and  about  her,  her  arms,  and  , 
many  other  ornaments.  , 

The  preface  to  the  christian  reader  is  subscribed  R.  D» 


f  Apaire  of  Tvrtle  Dpve^;  or,  the  Tragicall  History 
of  Belloru  and  Fick/io.  Seconded  with  the  Tragicall 
end  of  Aganiio^  zcherein  (besides  other  mutters  plea- 
sing to  the  Reader)  hi/  zcai/  of  dispute  hetweene  a 
Knight  and  a  Ladij,  is  described  this  nentr  before  de- 
haled  question^  to  uit :  Whether  man  to  woman^  or 
woman  to  man  offer  the  greatest  temptations  and  al- 
lurements vnlo  vnhridle^lust,  and  conscquentlt/  whether 
man  or  uoman  in  that  vnlaiojidl  act  be  the  greater 
offender.  A  Historic  pleasant,  delightful  and  witty, 
fit  of  all  to  be  perused  for  their  better  instruction,  but 
especiall  of  youth  to  be  regarded,  to  bridle  their  follies. 
Printed  for  Francis  Burton,  (tnd  are  to  be  sold  at  his 
shop  in  Paule'' s-church-yard,  at  the  signe  of  the 
Flower-dc'Luce  and  Crowne.     1606.  qto.  sig.  O. 

This  romantic  novel  is  confidently  attributed  to  the 
pen  of  Robert  Green,  though  his  name  is  not  any  where 
attached  to  it,  and  the  language  bears  all  the  character 
of  a.  hasty  effusion  by  that  versatile  genius.  The  pre- 
sent edition  is  the  only  one  certainly  known.  The  late 
Mr.  George  Steevcns  supposed  he  had  seen  another,  and 
his  remarks  on  his  copy,  which  had  before  belonged  to 
Mr.  Bowie,  are  as  follows. 

"  V.  Jackson  (/at.  ot  1760.  2395.*  Greene's  Hist, 
of  fair  Bellora. — The  hand-writing  of  Mr.  Bowie.   G.  S. 

"  I  am  well  convinced  that  I  have  seen  another  edition 
of  this  romance,  with  a  less  crowded  and  circumstantial 
title-page,  but  cannot  recollect  >\here  I  met  with  it. 
When  my  course  of  black  letter  began,  had  1  been 
aw  ire  of  the  necessity  of  such  a  precaution,  I  would 
have  kept  a  minute  register  of  all  anonymous  tracts, 
which,  on  some  kind  of  authority,  were  ascribed  to  con- 
temporary pamphleteers,  like  Greeue,  &c.     I  am  how-^ 

*  There  is  also  another  reference, "  v.  FIon«el  4327,  or  iS'iT,*' 

ever 


m 

ever  much  mistaken  if  the  name  of  Greene  was  not  either 
printed  in  the  title  of  the  other  edition,  or  at  least  writ- 
ten on  it  in  an  ancient  hand.  I  hardly  suppose  the 
authority  of  Mr.  Bowie's  quotation  from  one  of  old  Jack- 
son's catalogues  would  have  been  sufiicient  for  me  to 
rely  on.     G.  S." 

The  dedication  is  addressed 

*'  To  all  kind,  and  vnkind,  readers  of  both  kindes. — ^To* 
please  many,  yea  rather  a  few,  is  a  thing  easie  to  be  desired, 
but  hardly  obtained :  for  in  this  sicke  age  the  mindes  of  most 
are  infected  with  snch  a  froward  malady,  and  their  appetites 
infected  with  such  a  giddy  humour,  that  scant  anything  (be  it 
neuer  so  curious)  can  procure  a  pleasing  realish  to  their 
dainty-toothed  curiosity.  But  I  must  tell  such  distempered' 
persons,  that  heere  is  nothing  prepared  to  afford  thera  any 
kind  entertainment :  for  where  loue  is  rewarded  with  hate, 
cost  is  better  spared  then  ill  spent,  and  I  had  rather  such 
guests  should  fast  then  to  be  inuited  to  my  feast.  And  if 
they  will  follow  the  rules  of  my  physicke,  I  counsel!  them  to 
clear  and  purge  their  quesie  stomackes  from  that  corrupt 
humor,  which  turneth  the  sweetest  bonny  into  noysome  poy- 
son,  for  before  that  time  wholesome  food  can  minister  no 
comfort  to  feeble  nature  ;  but  doth  rather  feede  the  peeuish 
malady  and  augment  the  rigor  of  their  dangerous  disease. 

"  Now  for  other  who  are  of  a  better  complexion,  and  a 
more  healtlrfull  constitution,  shall  all  be  hartily  welcome,  so 
many  as  after  a  friendly  inuitation  are  willing  to  come  to  take 
such  cheare  as  is  chearefuliy  prouided  for  them.  I  will  keep 
open  house  al  the  year,  you  may  be  bold  to  enter  without 
checke  of  any  churlish  porter,  and  kind  harted  hospitality 
shall  be  my  steward,  although  for  his  large  liberality,  he  is 
quite  shut  out  of  doores  in  most  places,  1  beshrew  wanton 
Pride  for  her  labour,  it  is  by  her  procurement :  for  they  two 
can  neuer  dwell  together  vnder  one  roofe,  and  she  in  this 
new  fangled  doting  olde  age,  hath  gotten  the  vpper  hand  ; 
more  is  the  pitty  and  greater  the  impiety.  But  you  that  are 
my  welcome  guestes  shall  not  come  to  a  nigarde's  feast,  for  if 
variety  m[a3y  please  you,  you  shall  haue  store  and  plenty, 
and  if  the  first  seruice  will  not  serue  your  turne,  I  pray  you 
be  patient  till  you  see  the  prouision  of  all  your  fare,  and  I 
doubt  not  but  before  it  be  time  to  take  yp  the  table,  you  shal 
meete  with  some  dish  that  shall  b«  so  well  dressed  as  it  may 
delight  your  palat.  If  I  should  praise  my  cheare  ouermuch, 
men  might  beg  me  for  a  foole,  and  bid  me  hold  my  peace 
V  2  whii« 


21'^ 

wliite  I  learnf-d  more  wit :  yot  I  may  he  bold  to  say,  itis  uot 
so  good,  but  I  wish  it  wore  far  better  for  your  sakes.  And 
if  you  thinke  yourseliies  as  welcome  as  you  are  new-come,  I 
beshrew  you  if  you  spare,  and  therefore  once  againc  for  all, 
I  bid  you  a:ll  hartily  welcome." 

The  scene  of  this  tragical  liistory  is  laid  in  Greece,  of 
which  the  king  was  far  renowned  for  maintaining  with 
vigour  impartial  justice.  "  He  would  neither  be*  in- 
duced by  soft  harted  piftie,  to  spare  his  dearest  friends, 
nor  incensed  bjthepassionsof  fierie  cholerto  berciicnged 
of  his  greatest  foes."  His  only  child  is  the  iicroinCj, 
Bellora :  Her,  we  arc  told, 

*' The  diuine  graces  had  so  gloriously  adorned,  with  such 
excellent  beautie  of  bodie  and  exceeding  such  admirable  quali. 
ties  of  minde,  that  they  might  well  be  deemed  to  haue  emptied 
their  rich.stored  treasurle,  of  their  fairest  and  rarest  iewells,  to 
bestowe  them  on  this  gracious  lady,  for  her  princely  dower, 
whose  fresh  and  amiable  cheekes  nature  had  so  deepely  dif-d 
with  her  purest  and  choisest  colours,  that  their  eie.pleasing 
tincture  farre  surpassed  the  fairest  damask  rose,  and  much 
excelled  the  whitest  growing  lilly  and  so  curiously  compacted 
the  whole  frame  of  her  refined  substance,  that  if  Aptllej 
(that  nature. like  resembling  limner)  had  beene  tasked  to 
haue  drawne  her  counterfeit,  her  two  bright-burning  lampes 
would  haue  so  dazled  his  quicke-seeing  sences,  that  quite  dis. 
pairing  to  expresse  with  his  cunning  pensill  so  admirable  a 
worke  of  nature,  he  had  beene  inforced  to  haue  staid  his 
band,  and  left  this  earthly  Venus  vnfinished." 

As  men  in  elder  time  might  with  less  harm  view  the 
monstrous  Medusa  than  the  quick-sighted  lover  the 
bright  shining  Bellora,  for  the  one  being  metamorphosed 
into  stone  was  freed  from  pain,  but  the  other  lived  a 
dying  life  more  dolorous  than  sudden  death,  there- 
fore the  king,  to  prevent  further  mischief,  commanded  his 
daughter  to  be  privily  conveyed  to  a  distant  solitary 
cottage.  Two  knights  being  equally  inflamed  with 
love,  haunt  the  residence  of  the  princess :  on  the  first 
discovery  of  their  passion,  disregarding  their  hitherto 
preserved  amity,  they  fight,  and  the  one  who  in  a  previous 
discourse  proposed  determining  their  chance  by  lots,  is 
slain  by  Fidelio.  The  victoi-  also  succeeds  in  obtaining 
an  interview  with  his  mistress,  and  an  amorous  intercourse 
commences.     This  being  discovered  to  the  king  and 

botli 


213 

both  parties  in  durance,  he  determines  that  the  strict 
law  shall  be  enforced,  whereby  "  whosoeuerwere  appre- 
hended and  conuicted,  for  the  like  crime  that  Fidelio 
and  Bellora  had  committed,  that  one  of  them  after 
strajfjht  examination,  and  due  inquisition  made,  who 
was  found  least  culpable,  should  bee  condemned  to  per- 
potuall  exilment,  and  the  other  offending  most,  to  suffer 
a  most  bitter  death.  For  their  lawe  did  deeme  it  a  thing 
opposite  and  flat  contrarie  to  right,  that  the  punishment 
inflicted  should  not  differ  in  quantitie,  when  the  fault  of 
the  transgressors  did  differ  in  qualitie."  Tlie  strict 
examination  gives  place  for  long  orations  from  the  lovers, 
and  wherein  each  strenuously  seeks  to  be  considered 
the  greater  delinquent,  ^i  The  judges  declare  them  to  have 
been  alike  affected  and  little  or  no  difference  in  their 
offence  ;  this  conclusion  not  pleasing  the  king,  it  is 
suggested  to  him  to  have 

*'  Such  a  competent  number  of  men  and  women  to  bee 
assembled,  as  might  be  thought  meete  and  to  elect  one  of 
each  sex,  to  argue  by  a  solemne  disputation,  whether  man  to 
woman,  or  woman  to  man,  offereth  greatest  occasions  of  in- 
ducements to  levvdnesse  and  foUie,  and  if  woman  had  the 
worst,  and  lost  the  day,  that  then  his  daughter  Bellora  should 
die  :  but  if  it  wore  apparaut  that  men  were  most  faultie  in 
matters  of  such  condition  that  then  sentence  and  speedie 
execution  of  death  should  passe  against  Fidelio." 

Which  being  concluded  upon,  heralds  are  sent  to  the 
confines  of  other  nations  to  divulge  this 

"  Decreed  disputation,  to  incite  some  knight  trained  vp 
in  amorous  battells  and  well  schoolled  in  the  precepts  of 
Quid's  art,  that  great  mastor  of  loue,  like  a  stoute  champion, 
to  patronage  the  cause  of  men  :  and  on  the  other  side  to 
instigate  some  ladie  qualified  with  the  like  skill  and  practized 
in  controufersies  of  the  same  condition  to  mannage  the  de« 
fence  of  her  female  sexe,  and  to  resist  the  forces  of  her  con- 
trarie fop,  induced  thereunto  by  promise  of  an  honorable 
reward,  and  a  thirstie  desire  to  be  enrowled  in  the  booke  of 
euerlasting  fame." 

The  disputation  is  evidently  to  imitate  the  ancient 
mooting  ir.alches,  and  the  following  is  the  author's  de- 
scription of  his  mooters  : 

"  Nowe  in  those  dales,  there  was  a  noble  ladie,  and  gal- 
lant gentlewoman  in  the  Spanish  court,  witty,  quick.cou- 
ceited,  and  for  commendab'e  qualities  so  gracious,  that  shee 

could 


214 

€ould  bee  seconded  of  fione,  she  did  so  far  surpasse  them 
a.11 :  so  that  this  glorious  ladie,  richly  decked  with  nature's 
cboisest  Jewells,  was  greatly  affected  and  often  courted  by 
many  of  great  note  and  honor,  who  by  their  loue  fauours 
sought  to  woe  her  and  by  ceaselesse  iraportunitie  to  winne 
her.  Yet  shee  did  alwaies  demeanc  herselfe  in  those  light 
affaires  with  such  a  modest  temperature,  that  it  was  a  doubt, 
full  case,  whether  shee  was  more  to  be  prised  and  praised  for 
her  prompt  ac£ti]uitie  of  wit,  then  to  be  admired  at  for  her 
wel-disposed  inclination  and  womanlie  discretion.  This  gentle- 
woman (who  by  her  long  practize  was  wonderfuU  skilful!  ia 
loue's-Iogicke,  and  quick.eied  to  spie  out  any  fallacian  in 
that  faire-speaking  art)  was  named  Moranio.  There  was 
also  within  the  circuit  of  the  Spanish  region,  a  certaine  effemi- 
nate knight  called  Agamio ;  who  rather  delighting  to  write 
quaint  deuises  to  courtlie  ladies,  with  his  idle  pen,  then  in 
open  field  to  encounter  his  foe  with  his  warlike  launce,  be- 
came with  often  exercise  very  ingenious  in  that  skill,  and 
prooued  a  marueilous  proficient  in  the  art  of  loue,  and  wai 
so  sharp-sighted  to  discrie  the  subtile  close-contriued  pra- 
tizes  of  women-kind,  and  to  crosse  their  wittie  shifts,  that 
for  his  dexteritie  in  those  qualities  hee  was  no  where  to  be0 
equaled." 

In  the  disputation  the  author  Las  collected  all  the 
arguments  and  examples  that  an  extensive  reading  could 
supply,  raakir^  six  speeches  of  the  disputants  fill  near 
thirty  pages.  Finally,  the  moderators,  or  judges,  twelve 
in  iiumber,  *'  gaue  sentence  of  death  with  one  consent 
against  Bellora  and  doom  of  perpetuall  banishment 
against  Fidelio."  Intercessions  with  the  king  proving 
ineffectual,  preparation  is  made  to  carry  the  sentence 
into  effect,  at  which  time  Fidelio  rushes  unexpectedly 
into  the  fire.  This  occasions  the  deferring  of  the  sen- 
tence against  Bellora,  who  contrives  in  despair  to  give 
herself  a  prey  to  the  lions  kept  at  the  palace. 

Agamio  is  next  made  to  fall  in  love  with  Morania  ;  who 
maddened  with  disappointment  at  the  failure  of  her  own 
eloquence,  and  to  revenge  the  death  of  the  princess,  de- 
termines by  artifice,  and  with  the  connivance  of  the 
queen,  fo  make  him  believe  he  has  excited  a  mutual 
passion.  This  ends  in  his  destruction  in  a  way  horrific 
and  cruel,  making  monsters  of  the  women  wlio  could 
inflict  such  a  death ;    but  take  the  author's  own  words ; 

^'  Agamio  his  priuatc  speech  vnto  Morania. — So  great  is 

tb« 


215 

the  delight  of  my  inward  thouglits,  and  so  far  pleasing  is  the 
present  object  of  my  outward  sences  that  I  could  now  wish 
to  abide  the  wounds  of  d(  ath,  and  to  pay  nature  her  due 
debt,  least  changing  time  shold  change  my  present  myrth 
into  future  sorrow,  and  enuious  fortune  giue  me  a  fearefull 
downefal  from  so  high  a  seat.  But  liow  can  my  rude  tongue 
(gracious  madam)  tell  forth  thy  worthy  praises,  from  tVhose 
biisseful  bounty  do  How  the  sweet  streams  of  my  instant  ioy, 
and  doubtles  hope  of  a  happie  life,  seeing  your  rare  and  u)i-. 
raculous  clemency  hath  clean  remitted  the  misdemenor  of  my 
former  injurious  follies,  and  that  now  after  a  long  war,  you 
haue  entred  a  kind  league  with  m,e  of  perpetual  peace. 

"  Ntuertheles,  althogh  ihf  bright  sun  shine  of  your  beaming 
yertues  hath  bin  heretofore  a  little  obscured  by  the  false  oppo- 
sitions of  my  blacke  and  slanderous  tongue,  yet  now  it  hath 
recouerd  his  former  ligbt^  and  shal  herafcer  shine  far  more 
clearer,  and  as  1  haue  before  intended  all  my  forces  to  the 
dishonor  of  all  you  female  angel. like  creatures,  so  now  I 
will  not  spare  (in  part  of  recompence)  to  spend  my  derest 
blood  to  aduance  or  aduautage  the  glory  of  your  tender 
harted  sex.  And  now  I  wish  that  he  may  still  abide  much 
wo,  and  liue  in  little  ease,  that  can  be  so  hard-harted  as  once 
io  wrong  your  gentle  nature,  and  to  you  (kind  lady)  I  protest 
with  solemne  tow,  (and  let  the  heauens  reuenge  it)  if  my 
deeds  keep  not  euen  bias  with  my  words,  that  I  will  continue 
faithfull  in  the  sure  bond  of  our  nuptiall  coniunction,  vntill 
death  by  taking  away  my  life,  disolue  the  knot  of  my  fixed 
loue,  and  in  token  of  my  loyall  fidelity,  I  giue  you  my  hande, 
a  sure  pawne  of  my  true  hart;  and  let  thy  Agamio  soone 
cease  to  breath  and  liue,  if  he  once  think  to  faile  in  the  duty 
of  perfect  loue,  or  imagine  to  breake  his  plighted  faith  to 
thee  (worthy  aud  gracious  lady)  who  art  his  first,  and  shalt 
be  his  last,  and  best  beloued. 

"  The  Author.* — As  soone  as  false  conceited  Agamio  had 
ended  his  penitary  confession,  and  was  come  to  the  foote  of 
his  submissiue  recantation,  counterfcttiag  Morania,  too  sub- 
tle to  intangle  this  credulous  doter  vvithin  the  hidden  snare, 
soone  changed  the  coppy  of  hir  countenance,  and  suddenly 
ouercasthir  smiling  face  with  sad  and  louring  looks,  and  thirsty 
reuenge  had  now  ingrauen  deep  and  angry  frowns  in  her 
smooth  forehead,  as  outward  signes  of  her  old  malice,  (for 
awhile)  low  couciied,  and  close  imprisoned  in  the  narroa 

*  By  the  interlocutory  observations  of"  the  author,"  he  appears 
to  have  imitated  the  model  ot  the  early  drama,  which  introduces 
tlie  chorus  fur  explanatory  purposes  to  the  auditory. 

caues 


216 

caues  of  her  hollow  hart,  and  wheras  before  she  cheared  yp 
Ijer  new  come  ghest  with  a  sweet  welcoming  song,  she  now 
oegan  to  checke  him  in  a  flat  contrary  note,  and  freshly  to 
renew  apain  her  former  quarrel.  And  when  hee  (silly 
foole)  expected  that  the  table  should  haue  bin  couered  for  a 
great  feast,  she  began  to  say  him  this  bad  grace  before  a 
worse  supper. 

*' Moraniahervnexpected  speech  vnto  Agamio. — As  selfe 
conceited  pride  (fond  Agamio)  will  alwaies  climbe  high,  so 
at  last  tripped  downe  by  some  misfortune,  it  will  fal  as  lowe ; 
and  as  selfe  loue  of  thy  owne  perfections  hath  euermore  be- 
sotted thy  minde  with  blinding  follies,  so  now  thy  woful  end 
■hal  pay  thee  home  in  al  measure  for  thy  false  opinion.  Didst 
thou  like  a  foolish  chapma  at  the  first  cheapning,  thinke  to 
buy  so  precious  a  jewell  as  my  loue  is,  and  at  so  base  a  rate, 
which  many  others,  al  of  them  far  thy  betters,  could  not  get 
with  great profl'ers,  much  labor,  and  infi[ni]t  cost?  Couldst 
thou  so  childishly  suppose  that  thou  wert  so  worthy  a  mate,  that 
at  the  first  motion  I  would  giue  both  hand  and  hart  to  makevp 
the  match,  and  yeeld  thee  my  greatest  fauor  won  by  thy  iniu- 
rious  wrogs,  which  niany  braue  knights  haue  often  sought,  but 
coulde  neuer  obtain  with  great  sute  and  long  seruice.  But  at 
thy  inuectiue  speeches  ful  of  spight  against  womankind, 
might  perhaps  (to  inconsiderate  judges)  make  shew  of  a 
pretty  wit,  so  now  thy  hasty  and  ouerheady  recanting  doth 
yeild  a  plaine  proof  that  thou  euer  wandred  far  wide  from 
the  path  of  perfect  wisedome  :  for  true  loue  can  neuer  fix 
good  liking  when  it  is  sought  to  be  conquered  by  force,  but 
it  is  alwaies  attained  soonest,  and  abideth  euermore  soundest 
whe  it  is  gained  by  gentle  proceedinges,  which  may  best 
please,  and  do  most  content  the  milde  inclination  of  a 
woman's  kind  nature,  was  it  not  of  late  a  comedy  pleasant 
inough  to  thy  waiward  humor,  that  thou  didst  attempt  to 
eclipse  the  bright  beames  of  my  mayden  fame  with  thy  black 
opposed  speeches  ?  But  do  you  now  still  seeke  when  you  sec 
I  Hue  for  all  your  spight,  and  that  I  haue  digested  al  your 
poison  by  the  vertue  of  a  good  nature,  to  win  that  by  dissem. 
bling,  which  thou  couldest  not  subdue  by  force,  and  if  thou 
shouldst  bee  so  happy  (as  you  say  falsely)  and  I  most  happy 
(as  I  may  say  truejy)  by  the  fruition  of  thy  bad  will,  then 
thou  mightest  make  open  proclamation  of  my  dishonor,  and 
crow  ouer  me  as  a  subdued  captiue  to  thy  curssed  lust,  and 
hereafter  say,  women  are  very  kinde  to  their  secret  friendes, 
when  being  requested,  they  proue  so  kind  to  their  ope  foes. 

"  But  as  fondlings  account  their  chickens  before  they  b« 
2  hatcht^ 


\ 


217 

hatcht,  and  foolish  gamsters  boast  of  their  winnings  before 
they  come  to  the  end  of  the  game,  so  shal  thy  hoped  haruest 
dye  ill  the  sprooting  bud,  thy  faire  blossomes  being  killed 
with  vngentle  frost,  perish  and  bring  forth  no  friiite,  and 
the  torments  of  thy  cruell  and  vngentle  death,  make  some 
mends  for  the  wicked  deeds  of  thy  hated  life  :  wherefore  I 
wish  thee  to  make  a  small  repentance  for  thy  great  and 
grieuous  offences,  before  the  few  minuites  of  thy  posting 
life,  haue  run  out  their  short  course. 

'"  And  because  the  horror  of  thy  lingring  death,  may  be  y* 
more  terror  to  thy  like  minded  mates  that  hereafter  Hue,  we 
haue  deuised  such  deadly  pains  that  the  very  thought  doth 
amaze  me  with  fear  ;  yet  because  thou  hast  run  a  wild  race 
full  of  impiety,  thou  must  and  shalt  abide  them  without  any 
pitty,  and  although  women  shal  be  the  sole  executioners  (who 
haue  had  al  the  wrong)  and  cry  quittance  with  thee  in  thy 
woful  end,  yet  thinke  not  to  escape  their  weake  and  feeble 
hands,  for  who  euer  yet  iniurtd  their  sexe  and  gentle  nature, 
but  before  their  work  was  at  an  end,  receiued  the  due  wages 
that  their  bad  labours  well  deserued  :  And  let  men  say 
Morania  would  haue  dyed  for  sorrow  if  she  had  not  beene 
reuenged  vpon  her  old  enimy  Agamio. 

"The  Author. — No  sooner  had  Morania  named  reuenge 
(a  sweet  word  to  grudging  minds)  with  a  treble  and  terrible 
voice  and  that  her  fellow-actors  had  heard  their  commuuica. 
tion,  but  the  furious  queene  with  her  inraged  traine  at  once 
rushed  hastily  on  the  stage,  being  al  prepared  to  play  mad 
Media's  part  in  the  bloody  tragedy  of  their  maligned  foa 
Agamio ;  and  when  he  saw  his  merciles  executioners,  he  begun 
to  growe  pale  and  change  his  colour,  dreading  to  endure  tiiH 
tempest  of  their  stormy  choler,  and  before  his  tongue  might 
speake  or  plead  his  maister's  sorrowful  case,  they  seized  as 
greedily  on  him  (as  Acteon's  houndes  did  fasten  on  their 
mishaped  maister)  and  with  their  vnited  forces  did  lay  hira 
flat  on  the  ground,  and  so  quickly  muffled  vp  his  mouth,  that 
well  (poore  soule)  hee  might  think  his  worst  ;  but  he  had  not 
liberty  to  speak  one  word  ;  yea  they  did  so  violently  beat  on 
his  panting  breast  that  he  could  hardly  fetch  his  labouring 
breath.  And  when  they  had  quickly  dispoy  led  him  of  his  comely 
and  costly  array,  they  tyed  and  chayned  him  to  a  post  (like  a 
muzled  beare)  there  to  be  baited  to  death,  and  fresh  reme- 
brance  of  his  old  wrongs  had  set  so  sharp  an  edge  on  their 
murdering  ire,  that  nothing  might  sooner  coole  their  fierce 
minds  or  better  quench  their  blood-thirsty  humour,  then  to 
inueut  such  strange  deuised  paines,  that  the  least  pinch  might 

make 


218 

make  him  feele  a  deadly  pang,  and  yet  the  greatest  torture 
be  too  weake  to  make  a  finall  riddance  of  his  wearisome 
life. 

'*  But  heere  I  must  make  a  little  pause  and  wonder,  that 
hellish  reiienge  (yet  how  sauage  is  the  nature  of  this  cruell 
monster)  should  so  farre  transport  trembling  harted  women 
from  their  mild  and  modest  nature,  for  someof  thera  with  hot 
burning  pinsers  nipped  his  naked  body,  and  others  with 
teeth  and  nailes  made  deepe  impressions  in  his  tender  flesh  : 
that  if  murderous  Medea  had  beheld  those  tormentors  with 
her  faire-sparkling  eyes,  she  could  not  at  least  but  haue 
fetched  one  sorrowfull  sigh  at  so  grevious  and  pittifuU  a  sight. 

'*  Now  when  they  saw  their  extreame  handling  had 
almost  bereaued  him  of  his  sence  and  feeling,  then  they  would 
often  hold  their  hands,  and  make  pausing  rest,  yet  it  was  not 
to  giue  any  ease  or  breathing  to  his  poore  panting  hart,  but 
that  their  seacond  assault  might  haue  greater  force,  and  do 
their  captiue  foe  more  hurt.  And  when  the  sorrow>madded 
queene,  and  her  like  moody  mates,  in  acting  their  cruell 
parts,  had  almost  wearied  their  hands,  but  not  halfe  tyred 
the  mallice  of  their  harts,  they  thought  it  now  fitte  time  to 
defer  for  a  while  the  last  bloody  act,  untill  they  had  refreshed 
themselues  with  a  ioyfull  feast,  while  their  welcome  and 
ilcome  guest  (full  sore  against  his  will)  kept  a  true  fast. 

*'  And  although  their  fare  had  bin  very  coarse,  yet  would 
they  haue  fed  neuer  the  worse,  sharp  reuenge  had  so  whet 
their  hungry  stomackes,  but  that  their  delicate  fare  and 
merry  falke  might  do  him  the  more  despight,  they  would  sup 
and  reuill  it  out  in  his  hearing  and  open  sight,  that  in  the 
middest  of  all  their  frolick  mirth  he  might  make  many  a 
roonrnefull  sob  and  sorrowfull  sigh.  And  after  they  had  a 
little  labored  their  teeth,  and  their  tongue  had  some  leasure 
to  talke  (for  when  women  meete  together  alone  at  a  feast 
they  do  not  vse  to  be  mute)  they  reckoned  vp  al  the  bead  role 
of  all  his  wrongs,  which  from  time  to  time  he  had  done  to  the 
female  sex,  and  for  euery  bad  word  he  had  spoken,  named  a 
bitter  death,  which  they  al  concluded  he  had  worthily  de- 
serued. 

**  For  they  all  well  knew  that  she  pleased  the  queen  best, 
that  could  thinke  of  the  worst  and  recount  the  most.  And 
as  before  their  mercilesse  hands  wounded  his  body,  so  now 
their  sharpe  poynted  words  entered  his  eares,  and  pearced 
his  languishing  hart,  and  both  hands  and  tooug  were  em- 
plyed  to  redouble  the  paines  of  his  sufferings,  and  so  iu  the 
meane  while  bis  sighing  note  serued  instead  of  sweete  rau. 

sicke, 


219 

stcke,  to  recreate  their  wearied  senses.  Bat  when  their 
pleasant  supper  was  ended,  and  they  had  passed  away  th« 
time  with  much  talke,  the  queene  and  her  partakers  prepa*' 
red  themselues  to  act  the  catastrophe  of  their  bloody  and 
nightly  tragedy,  and  now  to  make  a  short  riddance  of  their 
capitall  foe's  hatefull  life,  and  yet  they  could  haue  wished,  h». 
might  haue  liued  stil  in  extream  pangs  of  lingering  death. 

*'Now  when  the  sun  began  his  daily  circuit  in  the  blushing 
orient,  least  his  bright  eye  should  discouer  their  secret  and 
night-hooded  murder,  they  suddenly  threw  the  mangled  and 
tormented  body  of  Agamio  into  a  fierce  flaming  fire,  where 
it  was  quickly  burut  and  consumed  into  ashes.  And  although 
their  reuenging  minds  were  somwhat  quieted  when  their 
enimy  was  quite  dead,  yet  they  were  all  content,  that  his 
memory  should  Hue  somewhat  longer,  and  euery  one  of  them 
tooke  some  of  his  ashes,  being  his  last  reliques,  and  entombed 
it  in  their  golden  tablets,  that  so  often  as  they  did  view  it  with 
their  eie,  they  might  conceiue  new  ioy  in  their  hart,  with  a 
pleasant  thought  of  their  great  victory  ouer  so  stout  a  foe. 
And  thus  ended  the  lamentable  tragedy  of  rash  beleeuing  and 
credulous  Agamio,  whose  death  may  be  a  caueat  for  others 
net  hastily  to  trust  the  faire  wordes  of  an  old  foe,  making  a 
goodly  shew  of  a  fained  reconciliation.     Finis.'' 

J.  H. 


^^.      t  The  Contemplation  of  Sinners,  1499.4^0. 

Colophon. 

*'  f  JJeie  endeth  the  treat i/se  called  the  Conlemplacyon 
of  Si/nners,  for  euery  daye  of  the  weke  a  synguler 
Medytacyon.  Empientyd  at  Westmynster  by  yVyn- 
hen  de  iVorde  the  .x.  daije  of  July^  the  yere  of  our 
Lorde  .M.CCCC.lxxxxixr 

"  Namque  huius  mundi  fallacis  guadia  mite 

Et  quihus  exuere  se  debet  omnis  homo, 
Sunt  miseranda  nimis  vexant  mortalia  corda 
Virtutum  faciunt  quamlibet  immemorem 
Quos  igitur  jcristi  baptisma  sacrum  renouauit 
Librum  hunc  perlegite  quifacit  esse  sacros 
t'.Quidiuslo  prodest  aut  quid peccator  egebit 
Si  libet  inspicere  vos  docet  istud  opus.^'' 

1  Prologus. 
"  H  At  the  deuoute  and  dylygent  request  of  the  ryght 

reucrend« 


220 

rouerende  fader  in  god  &  lorde  Rycharde  bysshop  of  Dsre. 
ham  and  lorde  pryiieseall  of  Englonde,  this  lytell  boke 
named  Contemplacou  of  Synners  is  coinpyled  &  fynysshed. 
Thesayd  blessyd  fader  in  god  desynynge  gretly  all  vertue  to 
eocrease  and  ryca  to  be  exyled,  hath  caused  this  booke  to  be 
enprynted  to  the  entente  that  oft  redynge  this  booke  may 
surely  serche  and  truely  knowe  the  state  of  his  conscyence." 

Mr.  Dibdin,  who  has  given  a  full  account  of  this 
book  (ii.  83)  pronounces  it  in  every  respect  a  great 
curiosity. 

I  select  the  following  curious,  though  rude,  allitera- 
ture  verses  from  Monday's  contemplation  : 

"  Tulit  vie  a  conspectu  vite  salubris  rabida  prosperitas.'' 

*'  O  stronge  tyraunt  traytour  ryght  tresonable 
Conuentof  all  contagyous  companye, 
Thy  fadyd  flourysshynge  is  fantasy  felable 
Thou  gyrthe  of  gyle  scole  of  cupydytye 
Fader  of  falset,  nouryce  of  iniquytye 
The  chaugeable  cbaunce  of  thy  folyche  fortoune 
Just  men  oppressynge,  and  shrewes  settynge  hye 
Maketh  a  man  to  lose  an  heuenly  crowne." 

The  work  has  about  eight  curious  wood-cuts,  some 
of  which  have  been  copied  by  Mr.  Dibdin. 

This  account  is  taken  from  a  copy  in  the  library  of 
Lee  Priory,  near  Canterbury. 

f  The  Miracle  of  the  Peace  in  Fraxnce.  Celebrated  by 
the  Clhost  of  the  Divine  Dv  Bartas.  Translated  by 
losxah  Syhesler.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Richard 
Bradocke  for  John  Browne,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his 
shop  in  Fleet'Streete  at  the  signe  of  the  Bible.  J  599. 
pp.  70.     In  fours. 

This  little  article  of  a  voluminous  and  very  unequal 
writer*  has  not  been  noticed  by  either  Herbert  or  Rit- 
son.t  It  isdedicated  in  a  sonnet  to  M.  Anthony  Bacone 
whose  arms  are  on  the  back  of  the  title.    The  contents  are 

*  Mr.  Ellis  in  his  second  volume  has  given  a  specimen  of  Syl- 
vester's poetry.  The  poem  ot  "  a  contenied  uiiud"  there  selected 
nju!-t  have  been  a  close  imitation  of  oue  inserted  in  the  Cens.  Lit. 
vol.  X.  p.  282. 

t  The  poems  are  to  be  found  in  the  4to.  collection  of  Silvester's 
works. 

sonnets 


221 

aonnets  relative  to  the  peace,  a  dialogue  vpon  the  trou- 
bles past  betweene  Heraclitvs  and  Democritiis ;  an  ode 
on  Astrea,  and  softie  epigrams  and  epitaphs.  The  ode 
may  be  selected  as  containing  some  pleasing  and  tender 
images,  though  dilated  with  too  many  of  the  usual  con- 
ceits of  the  translation. 

MJJ  1W  An  ode  of  the  loue  and  beauties  of  Astrea. 

To  the  most  matchlcs,  faire,  and  vertuous,  M.  M.  H. 

Tetrasticon. 

Thou  for  whose  Sake  my  freedom  I  forsake^ 
Who  murdring  me  doost  yet  maintaine  my  life  : 
Here  vnder  Peace,  thy  beauties  type  I  make 
Faire  war-like  nymph  that  keep'st  me  still  in  strife. 

Sacred  peace  if  I  approoue  thee, 
If  more  than  my  life  I  loue  thee, 
'Tis  not  for  thy  beauteous  eyes  : 
Though  the  brightest  lampe  in  skies 
In  his  highest  sommer  shine, 
Seemes  a  sparke  compared  with  thine  ; 
r»n  With  thy  paire  of  selfe-like  sunnes, 

Past  all  els-comparisons. 

'Tis  not,  deare,  the  dewes  ambrosiall 
Of  those  pretie  lips  so  rosiall, 
Make  me  humble  at  thy  feet ; 
Though  the  purest  honie  sweet 
That  the  Muses  birds  doe  bring 
To  Mount  Hybla  euery  spring, 
Nothing  neare  so  pleasant  is 
As  thy  liuely,  louing  kisse. 

'Tis  not,  Beautie's  Emperesse, 
Th'  amber  circUts  of  thy  tresse, 
Curled  by  the  wanton  windes, 
That  so  fast  my  freedome  bindes  ; 
Though  the  precious  glittering  sand 
Richly  strow'd  on  Tagus'  strand  3 
Nor  the  grains  Pactolus  told 
Neuer  were  so  fine  a  gold. 

'Tis  not  for  the  polish't  rowes 

Of  those  rockes  whence  prudence  flowes, 
That  I  still  my  suite  pursue; 
Though  that  in  those  countries  new 


222 

In  the  orient  lately  fuutul,  .^^^^ 

(Which  in  precious  gemmes  abound) 
'Mong  all  baytes  of  auarice 
Be  no  pearles  of  such  a  price. 
*Tis  not,  sweet,  thine  yuorie  necke, 
Makes  me  worship  at  thy  becke ; 
Nor  that  pretie  double  hill 
Of  thy  bosome  panting  still  : 
Though  no  fairest  Leda's  swanne, 
Nor  no  sleekest  marble  can 
Be  so  smooth  or  white  in  show, 
As  thy  lillies,  and  thy  snow. 

'Tis  not,  O  my  paradice  I 

Thy  front  euener  than  the  yce j 
That  my  yeelding  heart  doth  tye 
With  his  mild-sweet  maiestie; 
Though  the  siluer  moone  be  faine. 
Still  by  night  to  mount  her  waine, 
Fearing  to  sustaine  disgrace 
If  by  day  shee  meet  thy  face. 

*Tis  not  that  soft  sattin  lirame. 

With  blewe  trailes  enamel'd  trimrae, 
Thy  hand,  handle  of  perfection, 
Keepes  my  thoughts  in  thy  subiection  : 
Though  it  haue  such  curious  cunning. 
Gentle  touch,  and  nimble  running, 
That  on  lute  to  heare  it  warble, 
Would  mooue  rocks  and  rauish  marble. 

*Tis  not  all  the  rest  beside, 

Which  thy  modest  vaile  doth  hide 

From  mine  eyes  (ah,  too  iuiurious) 

Makes  me  of  thy  loue  so  curious : 

Though  Diana  being  bare, 

Nor  Leucothoe  passing  rare, 

In  the  christalKliowing  springs, 

Neuer  bath'd  so  beauteous  things. 
What  then,  (O  diuinest  dame) 

Fires  my  soule  with  burning  flame  ? 

If  thine  eyes  be  not  the  matches 

Whence  my  kindling  taper  catches  ? 

And  what  nectar  from  aboue 

Feeds  and  feasts  my  ioyes,  my  loue, 

If  they  tast  not  of  the  dainties 

Of  thy  sweet  lippes  sugred  plenties  ?  ^ 
«^  Wh»t 


223 

What  fell  heat  of  c«uetize 
In  my  feeble  bosome  fries; 
If  my  heart  no  reckoning  hold 
Of  thy  tresses  purest  gold  ? 
What  inestimable  treasure 
Can  procure  me  greater  pleasure, 
Then  those  orient  pearies  I  see, 
When  thou  daign'st  to  smile  on  mee  ? 

What,  what  fruit  of  life  delights 
My  delicious  appetites, 
If  r  ouer-passe  the  messe 
Of  those  apples  of  thy  brests  ? 
What  fresh  buddes  of  scarlet  rose 
Are  more  fragrant  sweet  than  those  : 
Then  those  twins,  thy  strawberry  teates, 
Curled — purled,  cherrilets  ? 

What  (to  finish)  fairer  limme, 

Or  what  member  yet  more  trimme. 

Or  what  other  rarer  subiect 

Makes  me  make  thee  all  mine  obiect  ? 

If  it  be  not  all  the  rest 

By  thy  modest  vaile  supprest : 

Rather  which  an  enuious  cloud 

From  my  sight  doth  closely  shroud. 

Ah  'tis  a  thing  farre  more  diuine, 
'Tis  that  peerles  soule  of  thine  ; 
Master. peece  of  heau'ns  best  art, 
Made  to  maze  each  mortall  hart : 
'Tis  thine  all-admired  wit, 
Thy  sweet  grace  and  gesture  fit. 
Thy  mild  pleasing  curtisie 
Makes  thee  triumph  ouer  me. 

But,  for  thy  faire  soules  respect, 
I  loue  twinne-flames  that  reflect 
From  thy  bright  tralucenteyes; 
And  thy  yellow  lockes  likewise  ; 
And  those  orient  pearlie  rockes 
Which  thy  lightning  smile  vn-lockes  J 
And  the  nectar  passing  blisses 
Of  thy  honey-sweeter  kisses. 

I  loue  thy  fresh  rosie  cheeke 

Blushing  most  Aurora-like,       ^4^ .: ^^ . 


And 


.j^  ,         And  the  white  exceeding  skin 
.K^nr'^>v    Qfjf,^  ,,pj.]^  and  dimpled  chin, 

And  those  yuorie- marble  mounts. 
Either,  neither,  both  at  once  : 
For  I  dare  not  touch  to  know, 
If  they  be  of  flfsh  or  no. 

I  lone  thy  pure  lillie  hand 

Soft  and  smooth,  and  slender,  and 
Those  fine  nimble  brethren  small 
Arm'd  with  peare-shel  helmets  all ; 
1  loue  also  all  the  rest 
♦  .    By  thy  modest  vaile  supprest : 

Rather  which  an  euious  cloud 
Fro  my  longing  sight  doth  shroud." 

E.  Hood. 


%  A  short  and  profitable  Treatise  of  lawful!  and  vniaW' 
\  JmU  Recreations,  and  of  the  right  vse  and  abuse  of 
those  that  are  lawefuU.  Wriltenbi/  M,  Dndlei/  Fen- 
tjer  Preacher  of  the  word  of  God  in  Midleburgh. 
1587.  Eccles.  2,  2.  /  sat/e  of  laughter,  thou  art 
madde!  and  of  gladnes,  what  mest  thou?  Imprinted 
at  MidJeburgh  by  Richard  Schiiders.  12mo.  eight 
leaves. . 

This  little  tract  has  a  prefatory  address  *'  to  the 
Christian  Reader,"  and  is  divided  under  the  several 
beads  "  of  Christian  exercises,  playes,  pastimes,  or  re- 
creations," and  *'  speciall  rules  of  recre.ition."  The 
pious  author  has  contented  himself  with  gathering  the 
leading  texts  of  scripture  as  applicable  to  his  subject, 
without  censuring  or  naming  the  general  amusements  of 
that  period,  which  leaves  his  performance  destitute  of 
the  information  whicli  might  be  expected  from  the  title- 
page.  In  temperance,  sobriety,  and  apparel  we  are  "  to 
square  our  selues  according  to  the  most  sober  of  our 
a^e,  degree,  condition  and  sorte  of  life."  Cards  and 
dice  are  condemned  and  should  be  exchanged  for  "  other 
recreations,  as  pleasaunt  and  of  greater  prayse,  as 
cliesse,  musicke,  &c."  The  following  extract  com- 
mences the  second  division  upon  the  rules  of  recreation, 
and  contains  the  only  allusion  to  dramatic  exhibitions. 

"  Hhat 


S23 

*'  What  is  a  Christian  recreation  P — A  christian  recreation 
isiin  exercise  of  something  indifferent  both  for  the  nature  and 
vse  of  it,  only  for  the  neceasarie  refreshing  of  the  body  or 
mindeor  both.  So  arp  allowed  in  the  Scriptures  the  vse  of 
the  bo  we.  2  Sam.  1.  18.  Of  musicke.  Nehe.  7.  67.  Of 
hunting,  Cant  2.  7.  but  so  as  we  doe  not  stirre  vp  or  prouoke 
Christ  with  it.  Lastlie,  for  the  exercise  of  wit,  honest  ridles, 
lud.  14. 

"  Rules  for  the  better vnderstanding  of  euery  parte  of  the 
declaration  of  Christian  exercise :  and  first  what  is  indifferent 
both  in  nature  and  vse. 

"  1.  /«  nature.  An  indifferent  thing  in  nature  is  that,  which 
is  left  free,  so  as  wee  are  not  siraplie  commanded,  or  for- 
bidden to  vse  it,  but  when  we  shall  fitide  it  in  Christian  wis- 
dorae  beneficiall,  or  hurtfull  vnto  vs.  Such  is  not  the  taking 
vpp  of  the  iesture,  behauioiir  or  speech  of  euill  men:  or  the 
fayning  of  them  in  playes,  because  we  are  expressly  forbid- 
den to  take  vp  the  outward  fashion,  or  shape  the  lusts  of 
our  ignorace.  1  Pet.  1.  14.  where  the  word  (Suschematizo- 
nienoi)  which  the  Holy  Ghost  vseth,  signifieth  that  very 
maner  of  fayning  the  outward  shewes  which  are  vsed  in 
{)layes.  Such  also  is  not  that  whiche  Solomon  speaketh  of, 
to  cast  firebraodes,  arrowes,  and  deadly  things,  and  say  : 
Am  I  not  in  sport?  Pro.  26.  18.  19.  buch  is  not  the  dauus- 
ing  of  men  and  women  togither,  whiche  thing  neyther  iagreeth 
with  the  shamefastries  of  the  one,  nor  with  the  grauitie  of 
the  other.  Nay,  the  very  sight  of  it  in  a  woman  is  founde 
to  ouerwhelme  men  more  then  strong  drinke.  Mark,  6.  22. 
And  necessarilie  draweth  with  it  that  which  Salomo  giueth 
to  vnchast  women  :  That  her  feete  dwel  not  in  the  house. 
Prou.  7.  11. 

'•  2.  In  vse.  By  a  thing  indifferent  in  vse,  is  meant  that 
which  is  not  onely  free  to  bee  vsed,  but  also  conuenient  in 
that  time  and  place,  before  those  persons  where  wee  are 
presentlie  to  vse  the  same;  as  if  the  thing  be  made  by  the 
law  vnlawfnll,  and  withall  to  haue  no  good  report,  prayse, 
or  vertue  in  it,  then  is  it  not  indifferent.  Phil.  4.  8.  as 
dyeing,  wanton  picturps,  vaine  gestures,  or  what  socuer 
hath  any  f^hewe  of  euill.  1  Thes.  5.  10.  22.  Lastly,  they 
are  not  indifferent  in  vse,  if  they  giue  offence,  as  hath  bin 
proued  before.*' 

♦     #  • 


Vol.  IV. 


^16 

f  Graphke.  ITie  use  of  the  Pen  andPensil.'  Ot^,  the 
most  excellent  Art  of  Painting  :  in  ti£o  Parts.  Bj/ 
lVjn.iAM^4^^^^^^^y  Esfl'  ^*^^-  Londr,\(^^%,^.^,,,  .^, 

Opposite, the  title  is  the  portrait  of  tlie  author  by 
Faithorne  ;  and  beneath  it, 

*'  Gulielmus  Sandersonus  eetat.  suce  6S, 

Etsi  se  nescit  quod  senescit  tamen  aipit  diisolvi.  lt>58." 

'*^  From  the  preface  it  should  appear  that  Sanderson, 
though  an  amateur  only,  was  "  not  without  some  expe- 
rience by  his  own  private  practice."  Iij  the  course  of 
the  work  are  portraits  of  Charles  I.  and  "  Maria  Ruten 
Uxor  D.  Antoni  Van  Dyck,  Eq."  also  by  Faithorne. 

The  following  short  extracts  may  show  that  many 
curious  anecdotes  of  the  arts  are  scaltered"  through  the 
volume.  , 

P.  14.  **  We  read,  of  kings  and  nations  that  have  valued 
painters  ;  so  have  they  sought  their  paintings  for  their  weight 
in  gold;  for  100  talents;  for  6000  testers  :  12000  testers. 
Nay,  fiomc  pieces  were  preserved  with  so  much  safety,  that 
their  keepers  lives  have  been  responsible  for  their  security. 

<*  An  example  of  that  nature  we  had  in  Abraham  Van- 
Dort,  supervisor  of  the  late  King  Charles  his  repository  of 
rarities  ;  with  esperiall  command  and  care  of  one  must 
excellent  piece  of  minifure ;  '  which  therefore  he  lodged 
(more  secure  then  safe)  so  farrf  out  of  the  way,  as  not  to  be 
found  by  liimself,  when  it  was  missing,  to  his  own  memory, 
at  the  king's  demand  ;  till  after  his  death,  the  executors 
brought  it  home.  This  chance  fitted  the  story,  which  was  of 
the  lost  sheep  found.  The  designe  of  the  limner,  a  shep- 
heard  bearing  upon  his  shoulder  a  strai'd  sheep  to  the  fold. 
The  doctrine,  Christ  reclaims  the  sinner.  But  miserable  it 
was  to  the  poor  man  who  at  the  first,  for  fear  of  his  masters 
Van  Dort's  displeasure,  or  perhaps  his  own  love  to  the  ex- 
cellenry  of  that  art^  in  sad  regret,  went  home  and  hanged 
himself." 

P.  \6.  *'  It  is  said  that  Laniere  in  Paris,  by  a  cunning 
way  of  tempering  his  colours  with  chimney  soote,  the  paint, 
ing  becomes  duskish,  and  seems  ancient ;  which  done,  he 
ronies  up  and  therhy  it  crackes,  and  so  mistaken  for  an  old 
principall,  it  being  well  copied  from  a  good  hand." 

In  page  ^0  we  have  the  ermmeration  of  the  principal 
English  masters  of  the  author's  own  time. 

"  la 


227 

"la  the  life,  Walker,  Zowst,  Wright,  LiHie,   Hales,  SAep-- 
heofd,  de  Grange,  rare  artizaiis.  '  ,  ■ 

■'*'■'  Fuller  for  story,  JStoiie  and  Croix  ingenious  pain(ers  in 
the  incomparable  way  of  copying  after  the  antient  masters. 

'^  Barlu  for  fowl  and  fish,  and  Streter  in  all  paintings. 

*'  Then  have  we  Marshall  for  flowers  and  fruits. 

"  Flesher  for  st a. pieces. 

"  Reurie  for  most  paintings,  usually  in  little,  and  John 
Baptista ;  also  Cleve  his  excellent  designs  for  those  rare 
tapstry  work,  wrought  at  Muretlake,  and  otherwise,  which 
will  eternize  his  aged  body. 

"  For  miniture  or  limning,  in  water  colours,  HoskinSy 
father  and  son  ;  those  pieces  of  the  father  (if  my  judgement 
faile  not)  incomparable. 

'*  The  like  of  Cooper's  and  Cary  :  and  let  me  say  it  with 
submission,  Gibson's  great  piece  of  the  Queen  of  England's 
head  to  the  life,  done  with  ttiat  elaborate  and  yet  accurate 
neatness  as  may  be  a  master- piece  to  posterity. 

''  And  to  make  good  that  maxima  that  the  ground  of  all 
exeellencies  in  this  art  is  the  naturall  fancie  bon^esprite,  quick 
wit,  and  ingenuity,  which  adds  and  enables  the  elaborate 
part,  pick  me  out  one  equail  to  Madame  Caris^  a  Brabanne  ; 
judgement  and  art  mixed  together  in  her  rare  pieces  of 
limning,  since  they  came  into  England.  And  in  oyl  colours 
we  hare  a  virtuous  example  iu  that  worthy  artist  Mrs  Carlile: 
and  of  others  Mrs.  Beale,  Mrs  Broornan,  and  to  Mrs.  Weimes. 

*'  And  to  give  honour  to  this  art  of  pjinting,  many  worthy 
gentlemen,  ingenious  in  their  private  delight,  are  become . 
juditious  practitioners  herein  ;  namely  Sir  John  Holland,  Mr. 
Guies,  Mr.  Parker,  Mr.  Sprignall,  and  others.  1  need  not 
name  the  rest;  their  works  will  better  their  worths  and  esti- 
mations in  this  and  other  excellerit  sciences  of  art  an(Mearning. 
Quaere,  Haines  and  Thorue.'^ 

P.  24.  "  We  shall  not  doubt  the  question,  whether  paintitig 
becomes  outsides  of  walls  of  the  house  ;  in  imitation  of  the 
Germain,  Csecill  Viscount  VVimbleton  (sometime  generall  of 
the  English  in  the  Dutch  warrs)  seems  to  intend  the  beauti- 
fying pleasant  scite,  and  gracefull  edifice  at  Wimbleton, 
with  large  and  ample  figures  without  doors,  in  i^'resco,  and 
Stoke  Parke  in  iSorthampton,  they  are  done  by  CJiaine. 
And  Carew- House,  at  Parsons  Green,  large  and  bold,  but 
almost  decayed,  though  but  lately  done.  Some  towns  are 
done  so  amongst,  the  Gerraains,  but  then,  not  with  glaring 
colours  ;  that  were  to  please  common  judgeiiients. 

"  1  have  observed  other  pieces  in  England,  not  maay  ;  for 
indeed  the  worke  is  soune  lost  upon  a  moist  wall  j  which  in 

Q  2  our 


228 

onr  clime  necessarily  follows.  That  excellent  painting  of 
the  two  Kings,  Henry  the  Seventh  and  Eighth,  with  their 
Queens,  done  upon  the  wall  in  the  PriTy  Chaml)er  of  the  late 
King  at  White-Hall  in  oyle  only,  by  the  rare  hand  oi  Holben, 
hath  been  prescrv<^d  with  coutinuail  warmth  within  doors, 
and  benofit  of  fire,  even  till  now.  But  withall,  I  observe 
the  wall  prini'd  with  a  very  thick  compost  of  playstcr,  and 
some  other  mixture  fixed,  to  preserve  the  worke." 

P.  79.  *'  I  have  seen  a  book  of  pictu;(^s  in  this  last  manner 
of  croyon,  done  by  the  hand  of  that  incomparable  artist 
Ham  Holbcn,  who  was  servant  in  ordinary  to  King  Henry  the 
Eighth.  They  were  paintings  of  the  most  English  Lords  and 
Ladios  then  living;  and  the  patternes  whereby  he  drew  their 
pictures  in  oyle.  Many  of  those  pieces  in  the  book  were 
spoylfd  by  the  injury  of  time  and  the  ignorance  of  such  as 
had  it  in  custody.  Yet  there  appeared  in  those  ruines  and 
remaines,  an  admirable  hand,  and  a  rare  manner  of  working 
in  few  lines,  with  much  diligence  and  labour  in  expressing 
the  life  and  likenesse.  Many  of  them  equalling  his  own  oyl 
pictures,  and  always  excelling  any  other  artizan.  After  a 
long  peregrination,  this  book  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  late 
Earle  of  Arrundell,  Earle  Marshall  of  England,  an  eminent 
patron  to  all  painters,  and  who  understood  the  art ;  and 
therefore  preserved  this  bcok  witli  his  life,  till  both  were  lost 
tegether." 

This  passage  probably  alludes  totlie  drawiiiics  which 
have  been  published  of  late  years,  from  his  Majesty's 
cabinet,  by  Mr.  Chamberlaine.  H.  E. 

f  Arthur  of  Brytayn  (in  a  ribband.) 
The  Ilyslory  of  the  nioost  noble  and  'oalyaurd  hnyght 
Arthur  of  lytell  hrytayne^  translated  out  of  frensshe 
in  to  engliss/ie  by  the  noble  Johan  hourghcher  Imyght. 
lorde  Burners^  newly  Imprynied. — [Beneath,  a  wood 
cut  of  a  Knyght  on  horseback  armed  at  all  points, 
accompanied  by  his  squire,  in  a  border  of  four  pieces 
unconnected.]  Colophon,  f  Here  endeth  the  hyS' 
tory  of  Arthur  of  lytell  Brytayne.  Imprynted  at 
London  in  JPowles  churche  yeard  at  the  sygne  of  the 
cockeby  Roberte  JRedborne.*  B.  L.  Wood  cuts,  folio, 
pp.  174,  exclusive  of  table  of  contents. 

The  celebrity  of  the    round    table  and   its  gallant 

*  According  to  Herbert,  Redbome,  Radborne  <jr  Badhorne 
printed  no  other  work  than  the  above.     Herbeit's  Aujes,  686.       * 

supporters 


Supporters  imperiously  demanded  from 'every  Writer  wUo 
trod  the  flowery  regions  of  romance  in  the  middle  ages, 
an  acknowledgment  of  its  superiority,  or  a  reference  to 
its  institutions.   A  varlet*  who  failed  to  trace  his  descent 
from  one  of  the   ^^  preud  hommes^''^  who  were  seated 
round  the  table  of  '*  Camelyarde^''\  could  have  little 
hope  of  hjivin<^  his  claim  to  knighthood  recognised  by 
the  hearers  of  the  lay,  or  the  readers  of  the  manuscript 
in  the  I4th  and  15th  centuries.     In  point  of  fact  even 
the  romances  founded  on  Turpin's  supposed  chronicle, 
of  which  the  heroes  were  generally  the  peers  of  Charle- 
magne, have  continual  allusions  to  the  incidents  and 
personages  of  the  supposed  court  of  Arthur.     In  many 
of  these  later  productions  the  fairies  who  interested  them- 
selves about  the  fortunes  of  Arthur  and  his  knights, 
play    conspicuous    characters.      In   the  romances   of 
Ogier  le  Dannoys  for  instance,  Morgan  le  Faye,  Arthur's 
sister,  occupies  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  our  atten- 
tion, and  the  fortunes  of  his  son,  '  Le  preux  Meurvin,' 
are  not  less  dependent  on  the  clumsy  kindness  of  these 
awkward  machines.'^      The   name   of    Arthur    would 
be  no  trifling  recommendation  of  the  romance  in  ques- 
tion which  is  supposed  by  the  Comte  de  Tressan  to 
have  been  written  about  the  time  of  Charles  the  6th 
of   France,   during   whose    temporary  derangements, 
and  consequently    unfortunate    reign,    the    superiority 
of   England    was  so    strongly  marked.     This  elegant 
Avriter,  as  the  foundation  for  his  belief,  discovers  in  the 
romance  a  decided  anxiety  to  give  celebrity  to  every 
thing  that  can  have  any  connection  witli  England ;  in 
addition  to  which  he  is  of  opinion,  that  the  style  and 
language  strongly  resemble,  and  are  therefore  contem- 
poraneous with,  those  of  Froissart. 

Perhaps  this  conjecture  may  receive  confirmation 
from  the  circumstance  or  this  romance  having  been 

*  **  Les  ecuyers  furent  aussi  appeles  Varkts  Sergens  &  Damoi- 
seaux.''    St,  Palye,tom.  1,  36. 

t  *  Howe  Kyng  Arthur  tooke  and  wedded  Gueneuer  vnto  his 
wyfe,  whiche  was  doughter  to  Leodegraunce  Kyng  of  the  lande  of 
Camelyarde,  with  whome  lie  had  the  Round  Table.'  Story  of 
Prince  Artluir.    Copland's  edit.  3  book,  chap.  1,  d.  1. 

X  *  Les  fe^s,  cette  machine  si  grossiere,  si  disproportionfee.' 
Oeuvres  de  Tressan,  vol.  7, 901.  One  of  these  fairies,  educated  by 
the  lady  of  ihe  lake,  breaks,  by  her  vagaries,  the  natural  train  of 
■jhe  romance  before  us. 

selected 


i>3() 

•elected  bv  ihc.  VeMierable  Iranshtor  of  Froissart's  chroni- 
clr-s,  ascqtiallj'  worthy  of  an  Enjjiisli  dress.  The  fami- 
liar acquaintnncf  with  the  stylo  of  Froissart,  wliicli 
must  have  l)een  tlie  consequence  of  Lord  l3criier.N's  study  - 
of  that  voluminous  chronicler,  would  naturally  l>e^ct  a 
partiality  to  any  work  which  possessed  similar: Kltfr 
imnnds  on  his  attention.  -  ^iil(qp') 

Inproductionsof  this  class  we  have  very  few  oriffinals 
itj  the  English  tongue.     Romances  of  ciiivalry  are  to  be 
found   almost    entirely   in  the    romance   language :    a 
dialect  perhaps  much  more  used  in  this  country  after 
Ihe Norman  conquest,  than  even  in  France;  and,  reason- 
ing from  that  circumstance,  we  have  a  right  to  put  in  a 
legitimate  claim  to  most,  if  not  all, of  the  early  romances. 
So  intimate  is  our  connection  with  it  still,  that  1  very 
much   question   whether  even  in   the  present  day,  an 
Englishman  with  only  the  common  portion  of  school- 
acquired  knowledge  of  the  French  tongue,  would  not  more 
easily  comprehend  the  gemiitie  romance  language,  than  a 
native  Frenchman  whose  attention  had  not  been  directed 
to  the  study.     A  few  of  these  romances  have  been  trans- 
lated into  English  ;  the  best  of  which  translations  now 
extant  assuredly  are  by  Lord  Berners,  to  whose  charac- 
ter in  this  particular,   a  lively   and   ingenious  living 
writer  pays  this  just  tribute  :  "  In  the  class  of  romances 
of  chivalry  we   have  several  translations  in  the  black 
letter  ;  such  are  the  Mort  d'Arthur,  Huon  of  Bordeaux, 
&c.     The  best  translations,  now  very  rare  and  high- 
priced,  are  those  of  Lord  Berners,  the  admirable  trans- 
lator of  Froissart  in  the  reign  of  Henry  8;  and  not  the 
least  of  his  merits  is  now  the  genuine  antique  cast  of  his 
style."* 

The  first  French  printed  edition  was  given  to  the 
world  in  1502,  but  it  is  not  so  easy  to  ascertain  when 
the  first  edition  of  Lord  Berners's  translation  was 
printed.  Herbert  mentions  an  edition  by  Rob.  Cop- 
land without  date,  but  which  he  had  not  seen ;  and 
which,  from  the  title  page  containing  the  phrase  *^  newly 
imprynted,"  he  conceives  to  have  been  not  the  first 
edition.  In  the  catalogue  of  the  late  Dnke  of  Rox- 
burgh's library  was  a  copy  of  this  translation,  wanting 
the  last  leaf,  and  stated  to  be  Copland's  :  this,  how- 

*  Curiosities  of  Literature,  edit.  1807,  vol.  2, 252. 

ever, 


231 

ever,  Avas  iiicorrecf,  as  it  was  in  Tact  Redborne's  edition, 
and  was  in  all  probability  that  which  had  been  in  Major 
Pearson's  collection,  art.  33Q9,  Another  copy  oftbe 
work,  without  date,  occurs  in  VV  est's  cataloi^ue,  art. 
2483 ;  and  a  third,  said  to  be  printed  by  Copland,  in 
RatclitTe's  catalogue,  art.  8-21.  ,1  think  it  howeverjj 
highly  probable  (hat  the  latter,  althongh  said  to  be 
Copland's,  as  was  the  case  with  the  Duke  of  Roxburgjl^'i 
copy,  was  in  fact  printetl  by  Red  borne,  who  has  not 
only  used  the  same  wood  cuts  qs  Copland,  but  has 
employed,  a  rude  type  jV^ry^  si/ni|ar  to  that  used  by 

The  last  edition  of  which  I  can  learn  any  tidings  was 
in  1609.*  At  the  back  of  the  title  page  is  "  The  Pro- 
loge." 

H  ''  IffTG  folowtth  the  translafour's  prologue. —  Toras- 
moche  as  it  is  delectable  to  all  humayne  nature  to  rede  and 
to  here  these  auncient  noble  hystoryes  of  the  chyualroas 
feates  and  martyall  prowesses  of  the  vyctoryons  kiiyghtes  of 
tymes  paste,  whose  tryumphatint  dedes  yf  wrytynge  were 
not  sholde  be  had  clene  oute  of  rejnembraunee.  And  also 
bycause  that  ydelnesse  is  reputed  to  be  the  nioder  of  al  vices, 
Wherforesomnhat  in  eschewynge  therof,  and  in  the  waye  of 
lowH  ertidycyonand  learnynge  I,  John  Bourghchere  knyght, 
lorde  Bcrners,  haue  enterprysed  to  translate  out  of  Frensshe 
in  to  our  maternal  tongue  a  noble  hystory,  makynge  mencyon 
of  the  famous  dedes  of  the  ryght  valyaunt  knyght  Arthur, 
Sonne  and  heyre  to  the  noble  duke  of  Brytayne,  and  of  the 
fayre  lady  Florence,  daughter  and  heyre  to  the  njyghty 
Einendus  Kynge  of  the  noble  realme  of  Soroloys,  and  of  the 
grete  (rouble  tliat  they  endured  or  they  attayned  to  the  per- 
fourmaunce  of  theyr  vertuous  amorous  desyers  ;  for  fyrste 
they  ouercame  many  harde  and  strauge  aduentures,  the 
whicho  as  to  our  humayne  reason  sholde  seeme  to  be  incredi- 
ble, wheifore  after  that  I  had  begon  this  sayd  processe  I  deter- 
mined to  haue  left  and  gyuen  vp  my  laboure,  for  I  thoughte  it 
sholde  haue  be  reputed  but  a  fulye  in  rae  to  translate,  beseming 
suche  a  fayned  mater  wherin  sehieth  to  be  so  maity  vnpossy- 
bylyties,   how  be  it  than  I  called  agayne  to  my  remembraiice 

*  VVarten,  who  probably  nover  saw  it,  falls  into  the  following 
error, "  Our  King  Arthur  was  sometimes  called  Arthur  of  Little 
Brittayne,  and  there  is  a  romance  wiih  that  title  reprinted  in 
1600."    Hist,  of  Eng.  Foetry,  vol.  3.  477. 

that 


that  I  had  retUle  aivd  seen  many  asondrye  volume  of  dyurfse 
noble/ hystoTyeswherin  were  contayned  the  redoulited  di-drs 
of  the  anncyent  iniiynsyble  conquerours  and  of  other  rya;ht 
famous  knyghtes  who  acheued  many  a  straungeand  wonderfull 
adnenture,  the  whyche  by  playne  letter  as  to  our  vuderslaq- 
dynge  sholde  seme  in  a  maner  to  be  supernaturall,  wherfore 
I  thought  that  this  present  treatyse  myght  as  well  he  reputed 
for  trouth  as  some  of  those.*  And  also  1  doubted  not  but 
that  the  first  auctour  of  this  boke  deuysed  it  not  without 
some  manor  of  troutheor  vertuous  entent,  the  whiche  consy- 
deracyons  and  other  gaue  me  agayne  audac)  le  to  coiitynue 
forth  my  fyrste  purpose  t)ll  I  had  fynysshed  this  sayd  boke, 
not  presuraynge  that  1  haue  reduced  it  into  fresshe  ornate 
polysshed  Englysshe,  for  I  knowe  myselfe  insuffycyent  in 
the  facondyousarte  of  rhetorykc,  nor  also  I  am  but  a  lerner+ 
of  the  language  of  Frensshe — how  be  it  1  truste  my  syuiple 
reason  hath  ledde  me  to  the  vnderstandynge  of  the  true 
sentence  of  the  mater,  accordinge  to  the  whiche,  I  haue 
folowtd  as  nere  as  I  coude,  desyrynge  all  the  reders  and 
herers  therof  to  take  this  my  rude  traslacion  in  gre  and  yf 
ony  faute  be  to  laye  it  to  myn  vuconnynge  and  deike  iguo- 
rauce,  and  to  mynysshe,  adde  or  augmet  as  they  shall  fynde 
cause  rcquysyte,  and  in  thcyr  so  doynge  1  shall  praye  to 
God  that  after  this  vayne  and  transytory  lyfe  he  may  brynge 
them  vnto  the  perdurable  Joye  of  heven.  Amen  !"  "  Thus 
endeth  the  translatour's  prologue." 

mben  ibllows  the  table  of  contents  of  117  chapters. 
As  1  understand  that  this  very  curious  and  rare  work  is 
about  to  be  reprinted  in  a  correct  and  elegant  manner, 
I  shall  content  myself  with  giving  a  short  extract,  merely 
as  a  specimen  of  the  translator's  style  in  light  compor 
sition. ,.  ^.-.;n   i,»fhrr  j: 

Arthur  had  been  engaged  in  marriage  by  his  parents, 
much  against  his  inclinations,  (for  he  had  conceived  a 
previous  attachment  to  a  young  maiden  named  Jehannet) 
lo  the  Lady  Perron,  whose  virtue  was  not  a  little  doubt- 
ful. Overpowered  however  by  parental  authority,  he 
at  length  yielded,  and  the  nuptial  ceremony  was  per^ 

•  Certainly  tlieie  is  as  much  appearance  of  truth  in  the  inciT 
dents  ofthis  romance  as  in  the  intimacy  between  Gaston  Count  of 
Foix  and  the  Demon  Orlhon,  related  with  the  utmost  gravity  by 
Fr'^issart. 

t  It  would  appear  from  this  phrase  that  this  translation  was 
anterior  tp  that  of  FroissarL 

formctj 


formed  with  great  magnificence.  The  lady  Perron,  cqnr 
scions  that  her  situation  would  not  bear  minute  scrutiny, 
had  bribed  the  young  Jehannet  to  occupy  her  plice  on 
the  bridal  night  by  tlie  side  of  the  youthful  Arthur; 
who  retired  to  bed  at  the  appointed  hour,  totally  uncon- 
scious of  the  trick  which  was  to  be  thus  put  on  him. 

"  And  wild,  that  Arthur  was  thus  a  bedde  he  beganne  to^j 
draw  nere  to  his  wyfe  as  to  his  kriowlpge.     Than  Jehannef 
counterfayted  h*  r  speche  and  sayd  softely  -  Syr  it  is  so  or  ye 
touclie  me  I    wyll   knowe  what  shall  be  min  eiulowrye,  Jt 
requyre  you  syr  assygne  it  to  me;  and  than  shall  I  be  readye,, 
to  fulfyll  all  your  commaundemeiite.     Than  Arthur  toke  the 
charter  and  the  ryngeand  delyucred  them  to  Jehannet,  and 
sayde  my  loue  Perron  ye  shall  haue  a  fayre  endoury,  for  it,, 
draweth  nere  to  the  some  of  x  thousande  pounde.     And  so, 
dydde  put  the  rynge  vpou  one  of  her  fyngers.     My  ryghte 
(lere  Lorde,  sayde  Jehannet,  I  humbly  thanke  you ;  and  so 
toke  the  charter  and   the  rynge  and  layde  theym  vp  priuely 
vnder  the  beddes  syde.      So  thus  was  Jehanet  raoost  parte  of 
the  nyghte  wytli  Arthur  in  grete  joye  and  myrthe  vntyll  the 
tyme  that  Artliur  fell  a  slepe,  for  he  had  not  slepte  of  all  y* 
nyghte  before.     And  whyle  that  he   thus  slepte  Jehannet 
pryuely  rose  and  tooke  wyth  her  the  charter  of  Perrons  en- 
dourye  and  came  to  the  Lady  Luke.*     And  incontyaent  she 
was  conueyde  agayne  pryuely  to  the  istangt  to  her  moder. 
And  than  was  Perron  put  softly  into  the  bedde  to  Arthur, 
who  woke  not  tyll  it  was  fayre  daye.     And  whan  he  was 
waken  he  sawe  where  as  Perron  laye  faste  aslepe  by  hym,^- 
for  she  had  not  slepte  of  all  the  nyght  tyll  than."     Cap,  13,  ^ 
fol.ix.  r 

The  ensuing  chapter,  in  which  Arthur  pays  a  visit 
to  Jehannet  and  is  undeceived  by  her  as  to  his  wife. 
Perron,  is  much  too  loose  for  modern  times,  but  affords  an'*' 
additional  proof  how  little  delicacy  our  ancestors  felt  on 
subjects  which  no  modern  writer  of  the  least  correctness 
would  allude  to  without  apology.  '' 

W.    '* 

*  Perron's  mother,  who  had  planned  this  notable  stratagem. 
•f  L'estang,  in  old  French,  a  reservoir  for  fish.    Query— in  this 
rase  a  jnnlieu  f 

The 


23* 


^  The  fint  ])n;/s  Etiiert/tinvienl  at  Butland  House^  hy 
T)eclmnntions  end  Mnsich  :  after  the  mapner  of  (lie 
.'Ancknts:     BuSirW.D,     Umo.  Loud.  1657. 

This  is  one  of  the  smaller  pieces  of  Sir  William  Da- 
vcnant.  "  Ai'iar  a  flouribh  of  inusick,  the  curtains  are 
drawn,  and  the  Prologue  enters.'^  With  an  introduction 
of  sixty-two  lines  the  curtains  arc  clased  ajrain  :  wiien  a 
concert  of  instrumental  niusick,  '*  adapted  to  the  sullen 
disposition  of  Diogenes,  being  heard  aAvhile,"  Diogenes 
ami  Aristophanes,  in  habits  agreeable  to  their  country 
and  professions,  appear  sitting  in  two  gilded  rostra  :  and 
declaim  "  Against"  and  '<  For  publique  entertainment 
by  moral  representations."  The  character  of  Diogenes 
is  supported  by  all  the  arguments  which  a  cytuc  might 
be  supposed  to  introduce. 

*'  Would  you  meet  to  enjoy  the  pleasurt  of  musick  ?  (h<i 
observes)  'tis  a  deceitful  art,  whose  operations  lead  to  the 
evil  of  extreams,  making  the  melancholy  to  become  mad,  and 
the  merry  to  grow  fantastical.  Our  citie's  ancient  stamp,  the 
Owl  (which  bears  no  part  in  the  merry  quires  of  the  woods) 
denotes  the  wisdom,  not  the  mirth  of  Athens.  1  would  have 
the  people  of  Atheus,  from  the  tnason  to  the  merchant,  look 
as  grave  and  thoughtful  as  rich  mourners.  They  should  seem 
priests  ia  the  temples,  philosophers  in  their  houses,  and 
statesmen  In  the  streets." 

Music  befitting  the  disposition  of  Aristophanes  is 
next  heard,  when  the  comic  poet  rises  to  pronounce  his 
declamation. 

"  Reno wn'd  Athenians!  how  vainly  were  you  assembled 
here,  if  you  met  to  be  made  wise  by  Diogenes?  and  how 
much  more  vainly  should  I  ascend  the  rostra,  if  I  sought  to 
inform  your  understanding  concerning  him,  or  reform  his 
concerning  himself  ?  Diogenes  came  to  perswade  you  to 
suspect  the  good  (fleets  of  assemblies,  and  I  come  to  accuse 
him  of  the  evils  of  solllude, 

"^  This  discontented  cynick  would  tarn  all  time  into  mid- 
night, and  all  learning  into  melanclioly  magick.  He  is  so 
offended  at  mirth,  as  if  he  would  accuse  even  nature  herself 
to  want  gravity,  for  bringing  in  the  sprini^  so  merrily  with 
the  musick  of  birds.  When  you  are  ycung,  he  would  have 
you  all  seem  old,  and  formall  as  simple  men  in  authority. 
When  you  are  old,   he  \^ould  bring  you  back  to  the  crying 

condition 


235 

£4?ndition  of  cbiltlren,  as  if  you  were  alwaies  breeding  tepyth^ 
Nor  hath  he  forgot  to  dispose  of  middle  age,  when  tae  r,jpe- 
ness  of  tnind  aul  body  makes  you  most  sufficient  for  the 
difficult  toyls  of  afl'airs  :  for  in  this  season  of  laborious  life 
he  would  use  you  tvorse  then  beasts  ;  who  are  allow'd  bells 
wi-th  their  heavie  packs ;  and  entertain'd  with  whistling, 
when  thpy  are  driven  with  goads.  ,y    ,^^ 

''  Instead  of  defending  poetry"  (he  adds,)  *'  whose  seyPrt^ 
rail  beauties  make  up  thf  shape  of  the  opera,  1  will  conclude 
in  excuse  and  defence  of  her  enemy  ;  who  hath  much  reason 
to  diswade  you  from  moral  representations,  because  he  js.  - 
himself  the  worst  representation  of  morality  ;  and  is  justly' 
afraid  to  be  represented  on  the  theater. " 

At  the  close  of  Aristophanes's  speech  the  company 
are  again  entertained  not  only  with  iastrmnenjtui  but 
vocal  rji'.isie  :  whrn  upon  the  opening  of  the  curl a-ia  a 
Parisian  anil  a  Ijondoner  in  the  livery-robes  o.,' tlieir 
r^s|^cctive  cities,  fill  the  same  rostra  and  dcclaitn  coii- 
cerning  tlie  pre-eminence  of  Paris  and  Jjondoi^.  The 
Parisian  takes  the  first  turn,  and  has  some  sevcrp  hiis.ait 
the  existing  slate  of  London. 

^' *' Sure  your  ancestors  (he  says)  contriv'd  your  narrow 
streets  in  the  days  of  wheel-barrows,  before  those  greater 
engines,  carts,  were  invented.  Is  your  climate  so  hot,  that 
you  need  umbrellas  of  tiles  to  intercept  the  sun  ?  Or  are 
your  shambltB  so  empty,  that  you  are  afraid  to  take  in  fresh 
ayr,  lest  it  should  sharpen  your  stomachs  ?  Oh  the  goodly 
landskip  of  old  Fish  Street!  which,  had  it  not  iiad  the  ill 
luck  to  be  crooked,  w;is  narrow  enough  to  have  been  your 
founder's  perspective:  and  where  the  garrets  (perhaps  not 
for  want  of  architecture,  but  through  abundance  of  amity) 
are  so  made,  that  opposite  neighbours  may  shake  hands  with- 
out stirring  ^rom  home. 

"  You  would  think  me  a  malicious  traveller,  if  I  should 
still  gaze  on  your  mishapen  streets,  and  take  no  notice  of  the 
beauty  of  your  river;  therefore  I  will  pass  the  importunate 
noise  of  your  watermen,  and  now  step  into  one  of  your 
pescod boats;  whose  tilts  are  not  so  sumptuous  as  the  roofs  of 
gundaloes,  nor,  wt)cn  you  are  within,  are  you  at  the  ease  of 
Chaise-a  bras.  The  commodity  and  trade  of  your  river  be- 
longs to  yourselves;  but  give  a  stranger  leave  to  share  in 
the  pleasure  of  it,  which  will  hardly  be  in  the  prospect  or 
freedom  of  ayr;  unless  prospect,  consisting  of  variety,  be 
made  up  with  here  a  palace,  there   a  wood.yard,   here  a 

garden, 


236 

garden,   there  a  brew-house :  Here  dwells   u  lord,   there  a 
dyer,  and  between  both  duomo  comuno. 

*'  I  -.vill  forbear  to  visit  your  court'y  neighbours  at 
Wapping,  not  that  it  will  make  me  giddy  to  shoot  your 
bridge,  but  that  I  am  loth  to  disturb  the  civil  silence  of 
Billings-gate,  which  is  so  great,  as  if  the  mariners  were 
alwaies  landing  to  storm  the  harbour." 

The  English  system  of  education  is  also  noticed  with 
some  little  severity  of  censure. 

The  Londoner,  however,  whose  speech  is  introduced 
by  musick,  "  imitating  the  waites"  of  the  city,  retorts 
"without  any  diminution  of  wit. 

In  crossing  the  river  at  Paris,  he  observes,  **  We  neither 
descend  by  stairs  when  we  come  in  "-to  (he  boat,"  nor 
ascend  when  we  go  out,  but  crawl  through  the  mud  like  cray- 
fish, or  anglers  in  a  new  plantafion.  1  could  wish  you  had 
the  adornments  of  wall'd  banks  ;  but  in  this  witty  region  of 
civility,  as  well  as  in  our  dull  rude  town,  I  perceive  there  is 
not  a  perfect  coherence  in  all  the  parts  of  magnificence." 

Another  bqrst  of  music  follows  the  close  of"  this  decla* 
roation,  with  a  song.  ''' 

'•  London  is  smother'd  with  sulph'rons  fires  ; 

Still  she  wears  a  black  hood  and  cloak, 

Of  sea-coal  smoke, 
As  if  she  mourn'd  for  brewers  and  dyers. 

Chorus. 
But  she  is  cool'd  and  clens'd  by  streamy 
Of  llowing  and  of  ebbing  Thames. 

2. 
Though  Paris  may  boast  a  clearer  sky, 

Yet  wanting  flows  and  ebbs  of  Sene, 

To  keep  her  clean. 
She  ever  seems  chok't  when  she  is  dry. 

Chorus. 
And  though  a  ship  her  scutcheon  be, 
Yet  Paris  hath  no  ship  at  sea." 

Epilogue  then  enters,  and  the  entertainment  ends. 
The  music  on  the  occasion  appears  to  have  been  com- 
posed by  Dr.  Coleman,  Capt.  Henry  Cook,  Mr.  Henry 
Lawes,and  Mr.  George  Hudson. 

£. 


237 


5  Lord  Rixeris  Dides  S^  Sayings  of  the  Philosophers, 
1477.  [Oil  the  Redo  of  the  first'leaf  Caxton's  hfse 
device.     Colophon.]     ^  Caxton  me  fieri  fecit,  ^^'\^ 

At  fol.  I  iii. 

*'  Here  endeth  the  book  named  fhe  dictes  or  sayngis of 
the  philosophers  enprynted  by  me  Wyllm  Caxton  at  West. 
mestre  the  yere  of  our  lord  .M.cccc.Lxxvii.  Whiche  book 
is  late  translated  out  of  frenshe  into  englyssh  by  y*  noble  & 
puissant  lord  Antoine  Erie  of  Ryuyers  lord  of  Scales  and  of 
the  Isle  of  Wyght.  Defendour  and  directour  of  the  siege 
apstollque,  for  our  holy  Fader  the  Pope  in  this  Royame  of 
Etiglond  andgouernour  of  my  lord  Prince  of  Wales,  and  It  is 
so  that  at  suche  tyme  as  he  hadaccomplisshid  tills  said  werke, 
it  likt'd  hyni  to  sende  it  to  me  in  certayn  quayers  to  ouersee, 
whiche  forthwyth  I  savve  &  fonde  therin  many  grete,  notable, 
and  wyse  sayengis  of  the  phylosophres.  Accordyng  vnto  the 
bookcs  made  in  frenshe  whiche  I  had  ofte  afore  redd  But 
certayniy  I  had  seen  none  in  englyssh  til  that  tyme,  And  so 
afterward  I  cam  vnto  my  sayd  lord  &  told  hym  how  I  had 
red  &  seen  his  book.  And  that  lie  had  don  a  meritory  dede 
in  the  labour  of  the  translacion  therof  in  io  our  englysh 
tunge.  Wheryn  he  had  dcseruid  a  singuler  lavvde  &  thank, 
&c.  Thenne  my  sayd  lord  desired  me  to  ouersee  it  &  where 
as  I  shold  fynde  faute  to  correcte  it,  wheryn  I  answerd  vnto 
his  lordship  that  I  coude  not  amende  it,  But  yf  I  sholde  so 
presume  I  myght  a  paire  it.  For  it  was  ryght  wel  &  con- 
nygnly  made  &  translated  into  right  good  &  fayr  englyssh. 
Notwythstondyng  he  willed  me  to  ouersee  it  &  shewid  me 
diuerce  thinges  whiche  as  hym  semed  myght  be  left  out  as 
diuerce  lettres  missyues  sent  from,  Alisander  to  darius  & 
Aristotle  &  eclifi  to  other.  Whiche  lettres  were  litil  apperti- 
iiet  vnto  to  dictes  and  sayenges  aforsald  for  as  moche  as 
they  specifire  of  other  m'tters,  and  also  desired  me  that  don  to 
put  the  sayd  booke  in  enprinte,  And  thus  obeyng  his  request 

6  coraaundement  I  haue  put  me  in  deuoir  to  ouersee  this 
his  sayd  book  and  beholden  as  nyglie  as  I  coude  howe  It 
accordeth  wyth  thorigynal  beyng  in  frensh,"  &c. 

After  the  preface,  wliich  is  extracted  by  Dibdin,  the 
work  begins  th  us  : 

*'  Sedechias  was  the  first,  Philosophir  by  whom  through  the 
wyl  &  pleaser  of  oure  lorde  god.  Sapience  was  vnderstande, 
and    lawcs    resceyued,    \vhiche,    Sedechias  saide   that  euery 

creature 


m 

^fp}«(ure  of  good  beleue  ought  fo  haue  in  liym  sixtene  vertuPSf 
?  The  first  vertue  is  to  drede  ajid  knowegod  and  his  angellyi. 
?  The  Sfcoiide  vertue  is  to  haue  disirecion  to  discerne  the 
goode  from  the  badde  and  to  vse  vt-rlu  and  sle  vices.  H  Tht- 
thridS^vertut'  is  to  obt'ye  the  kynges  or  princes  that  god  hath 
6t(}i>vgnt'd  td  reygne  upon  hem,  and  that  haue  lordship  and 
power  vpon  the  people,  f  The  fourthe  vertiie  is  to  worship 
hys  fadre  and  his  modre.  1  The  fyfthe  vertue  is  to  do  Justely 
an<l  truely  to  euery  creature  after  his  possibilite.  f  The 
sixths  vertue  is  to  distribute  his  almes  to  the  poure  people. 
•I  The  seuenthe  vertue  is  to  kepe  and  defende  straungers  and 
pylgrymes.  1  The  eyghte  vertue  is  to  bynde  and  determine 
hym  self  lo  serue  our  lorde  god.  f  The  nyuthe  vertue  is  to 
esehewe  fornicacion.  H  The  tenthe  vertue  is  to  haue  pac*. 
t'uce.  H  The  enleuenth  vrtue  is  to  be  stedefast  and  true. 
The  twelfthe  is  to  be  pt-asible  and  attemperate  and  vshame 
fast  of  synne.  ?  The  thertenthe  vertue  is  to  loue  justice., 
f  The  fourtenthe  vertue  is  to  be  liberal  and  not  couetous. 
1  The  fyftenthe  vertue  is  to  ofi're  sacrifices  to  our  lord  god 
aimyghty  for  the  henehcis  and  gracis  that  he  theweth  hym 
dayly.  1  The  sextenthe  vertue  is  to  worship  god  almyglity, 
and  to  put  to  hym  hoolyin  his  protection  and  defence  for  resis- 
tiice  of  the  infortunitees  that  day  ly  falles  in  this  worlde. 
1  The  saide  Sedechias  saide  that  right  as  it  apparteyneth  to  the 
people  to  be  subgect  and  obeissant  to  the  royal  maieste  of 
their  kyng  or  prince,  right  so  it  behoutth  their  kyng  or 
prince  to  eutende  diligentcly  to  thf  «ele  and  gouueruauce  (m" 
his  people,  and  ratiitr  to  wyile  the  wele  of  them,  than  his 
owne  propre  lucre,  for  by  simylytude  right  so  is  the  kyng  or 
the  prynce,  wyih  his  people,  as  the  soule  wyth  the  body, 
f  And  saydeyf  a  kyngeor  a  prynce  enforce  liym  self  togadrt 
money  or  tresor  by  sutyl  exortacion  or  otht  r  vndue  meamSL, 
he  ought  to  knoue  he  doth  amys.  For  suche  tresor  may  not 
be  gadred  w  ythout  the  sequele  be  lo  his  daungcr  or  depeopu'a- 
cionof  hisRoyame  or  couiitr«y,&  sayde  zedcchiasyf  akyngor 
a  prynce  be  neglygcnt&  slougtifull  and  take  nohede  tosercht 
and  enquyre  the  dysposicyon  and  werkys  of  his  enemyei', 
theuteiit,  \vy  1  and  dede  of  his  subgettys,  he  shal  not  be  iongc  in 
surete  in  his  royamuie.  And  sayde  the  people  is  fortunat  and 
happy  that  haue  a  good  and  a  vertuouskyngor  prynce  dyscrelt 
ttti^  Uyse  in  scyences.  f  And  mykyl  ar  th«'  people  iufortunat 
whan  eny  of  th)es  thynges  iacke  in  th('ir  kynge  or  prytit^. 
And  sayde  yf  a  kyng  or  a  prynce  for  slouth  leue  to  doo  eny 
of  lytyl  thynges  that  hym  ought,  and  ig  ordeygned  he  shulde 
execute  lyghtly  after  he  leucth  greter   vndon,  and  sco  con^ 

^equently 


239 

sequently  he  may  lese  all  ryght,  as  a  lytyl  sekenesse  or  hifrt 
wythout   it  be  sone  and  wele  remodytd,  may  cause  the  dys- 
tructiou  of  all  the  bole  body.     1  And  sayde  yf  a  kynge  or  a 
prynce  byleue  the  fayre  wordes  and  llatterynge  of  his  enemyes 
hauynge  no   respect  to  their  werkes,  it  is  njeruaylle,  but  the 
sayd  kynge  or  prynce  therby  sodcynly  take  harme.     f  And 
sayde  it  apperteygneth  to  a  kynge  or  a  prynce  to  enforme  his 
sone    in  vertue  and  scyence,  and  how  he  shall  gouuerne  his 
lande  aftyr  hyra,  howe  he  sholde  be  ryghtwys  to  his  people. 
How  he  shulde  loue  and  haunte  his  knyghtes  not  sull'eryng 
them   to  vse  to  mykyl  hunting  nor  other  Idclnesses,  but  in.* 
structe  hem   to  haue   goode   eloquence  and  to  eschewe  all 
T^nytees.     H  And  sayde  it  apparteygneth  to  a  kynge  or  to  a 
prynce,  If  he  wy!l  haueeny  nyghe  seruaunt  fyrst  to  knowe  his 
guydyng  and  condycyoas,  and  how  he  gouuerneth  hyra  self 
in  his  house  and  anionge  his  felowes,  and  yf  he  vnderstande 
hym  of  goode  condycion  and  gouuernaunce,  hauyng  pacience 
in   his  aduersyte   leteyne  and   taiie  hym  than  hardely.     And 
el.lys  to  beware  of  l)ym.     And  seyde  Zedechias  yf  thou  haue 
a  veroy  true  frcnde  that  loueth  the  wele,  thou  ought  to   take 
hym  more  in  thy  loue  and  fauour  than  eny  of  thy  kynuysmen 
desyryng  tliy  dcth  for  to  haue  the  successions  of  tiie  goodes. 
A>id   sayde  commouely    eucry    resemblance   delytetli  other. 
Aod  sayde  he  that  wyl  not  be  chastysed   by  fayre  &  swete 
wordcs,  ought  to  be  corrected  by  sharp  and  harde  correction. 
1  And  sayde  the  grettest  rychesse  is  satisfaccio  of  the  hcrte. 
U  And  sayde  he  is  not  riche,  to  whome  richesse  lasteth  not, 
no   whan    they   may    be  lyghtly   take  away  :  but  the   best 
ryches   is  that  thyug  that  dureth  perpetuelly.     f  And  sayde 
the  obeyssance  dooii  by  loue  is  more  ferme  than  that  that  is 
don  by  myght  or  drcde.     *1  And  sayde  that  experyence  is  a 
goode  chasty cement.     And  sayd  the  lokyng  vpon  the  begyn- 
nyng  of  the  werke  yf  it  be  goode  yeueth  hope  to  tlie  endyng. 
f  And  sayde  that  goode  renommee  and  fame  is  ryght  profiyt- 
able  in  tliis  vvorlde,  the  dedes  thevof  auaylen   in  the  other 
worlde.     f  And  sayde  it  is  bitter  a  man  to  holde  his  peas, 
than  speke  myche  to  eny  Ignorant  man,  and  to  be  alone,  than 
to  bo  accompayned  wyth  euyl  people.    5  And  sayde,  whan  a 
kyiig  or  a  prynce  is  euyl  tatched  and  vycious,   bettyr  is  to 
theym  that  haue  noo  knowiege  of  hym  than  to  thoos  that  bee 
grettest  maystres  in  his  house.     H  And  sayde  better  is  a  wo- 
man to  be  barayn  than  to  beere  an  euyldysposed  or  a  wykked 
ciiylde.     It  And  sayde  the  compan^e  of  a  poure  wyseman  is 
better  then  a  ryche  Ignorat   that  weneth  to  be  wyse  by  sub- 
lylte.     1  And  sayde  he  that  oflendeth  god  his  creatoiir  by 

gretter 


^0 

i^i'Mter  reason  he  foykth  to  othir.  f  And  sayde  byleue  not 
inhym  that  scyth  he  loueth  and  knovveth  trowth  and  doth  the 
contrary,  f  And  sayd  (he  Ignoraunteinen  woii  not  abptfyxve 
them  from  their  SGnsualyt<^s,  but  loue  their  lyf  for  their  ple- 
saunce,  what  defence  so  ener  be  made  viito  them,  ritfht  as 
cW'dren  enforce  thtni  self  to  cte  sweto  thynges,  and  the 
rather  that  they  be  charj;ed  (he  contrary e,  But  it  is  other  wyse 
wyth  wysemen,  for  they  loue  (heir  lyues  but  oncly  to  doo 
goode  dedys  and  to  leue  Idolnesse  and  the  delectaciouns  of 
this  worlde.  f  And  sayde  how  may  be  compared  the 
werkes  of  theym  that  entende  the  perfection  of  the  goode 
thynges  perpetuell,  to  theym  that  wyll  bnt  their  delyces  tran- 
sitory. H  And  sayde  that  the  wyse  men  here  there  greues  & 
sorowes  as  they  were  swete  vnto  <heym,  knowyng  theyr 
trouble  pacyently  taken  the  ende  thereof  shalbe  to  theyr 
meryte.  f  And  sayde  that  it  is  proufytable  and  goode  to  doo 
wele  to  them  that  haue  deserued  it,  and  that  it  is  euyl  doori 
to  doo  wele  to  theym  that  hath  not  deseruyd  it.  For  all  is 
lost  that  is  yeiien  Tuto  them  ryght  as  the  reyne  falleth  vpon 
the  grauell.  f  And  sayde  he  is  happy  that  vsyd  his  dayte» 
in  doyng  couenable  thynges,  &  takylh  in  this  worlde  but  that 
that  isnecessarye  vnto  hym  and  may  not  forbere.  Aplyeng 
hym  self  to  doo  goode  dedys  and  to  leue  the  badde,  f  And 
sayde  a  man  ought  not  to  be  demed  by  his  wordes,  but  by  his 
werkys,  for  communely  wordes  ben  vayne,  but  by  the  dedes 
is  knowen  the  harme  or  the  prouflit  of  euery  thyng.  And 
sayde,  whan  thsit  alniesse  is  distrebute  to  poure  indygent 
people,  it  profyteth  as  a  good  medycine  couenably  yeuen  to 
them  that  be  seke,  but  the  almes  yeuen  to  the  not  indygi'ut, 
is  as  medycine  y^uen  wythout  cause,  f  And  sayde  he  is 
happy  that  wythdraweth  his  ere  and  his  eye  fro  all  euyll 
thynges.  H  And  sayde,  tlie  most  couenable  dyspence  that 
eny  man  may  make  in  his  lyff,  it  is  that  is  sette  in  the  seruice 
of  god,  and  in  goode  werke.  H  And  the  seconde  is  that 
is  spended  in  necessarye  thynges  that  may  not  be  for- 
borne, as  mete,  drinke,  clothyng  and  lor  remedyes  ayenst 
sickenesse,  and  worste  of  all  is  that  is  dispended  in  syn  and 
euyll  werke." 

Here  end  the  sayings  of  Sedcchias.  Next  follow 
those  of  IIermfs. 

This  is  the  first  book  from  the  press  of  Caxton,  which 
has  the  year  and  place  annextd  to  it. 

There  is  another  edition  of  the  same  year,  which  Mr. 
Dibdin  believes  to  be  the  first,  printed  without  numerals, 

signatures^ 


241 

&i£i"naturesf,  or  catohWords,  containing  75  leaves,  The 
edition  here  registered,  which  neither  Oh\ys,  Amesj 
nor  Herbert  appear  ever  to  have  seen,  has  signatures, 
and  this  mark  f  before  sentences,  as  in  the  specimen  I 
have  given.  It  contains  68  leaves,  including  the  two  of 
the  title  and  the  prooemium.  Mr.  Dibdin  mentions  the 
copy  of  this  edition  in  the  Lambeth  libra.'y  (No.  1092) 
as  containing  the  unique  distinction  of  the  printer's  large 
device  on  the  recto  of  the  first  leaf.  But  the  copy  in  the 
library  of  Mr.  Barrett  at  Lee  Priory  near  Canterbury 
(vyhence  this  account  is  taken)  also  has  it. 

The  work  is  a  translation  from  "Z,e>v  Diets  Moraux  des 
PhihsopheSf  les  Diets  des  Saxsy  et  le  Secret  des  secrets 
d^ylristote,^'  fol.  translated  from  the  Latin  by  Guillaume 
de  Tignoville,  who  was  provost  of  Paris  in  1408.  For 
a  farther  account  and  more  extracts  see  Dibdin^  I.  59,  7S. 
And  for  an  account  of  Earl  Rivers,  see  Walpole's  Royal 
and  Noble  Authors  by  Park,  vol.  1 . 

B. 


PfVlobie  his  Avisa,  or  the  true  Picture  of  a  modest  Maide 
and  of  a  chnst  and  donstnnt  wife.  Whereunto  is  added 
an  Apologie,  shczohig  the  true  meanirig  of  fVillohie 
his  Au'isa  :  with  the  viciorie  of  English  Chaslitie  neuer  ; 
befcre  published.  The  fourth  time  corrected  and 
augmented.  Imprinted  at  London  by  John  Windet* 
1605.  qto.  72  leaves,  without  introduction. 

Our  information  respecting  the  author,  Henry  Wil-  ..-» 
LOBiE,  is  confined  to  the  subject  of  the  present  article,  w. 
which  supplies  but  a  very  scanty  portion  of  maif rials  as    ■* 
to  his  personal  history.     The  AviSA  was  licensed  and    tf 
pulplished  in  1594,  under  the  inspection  of  the  author's 
*'  chambcr-.fellow'*  Hadrian  Dorrell ;  and,  as  he  dates  the 
preface  from  his  "chamber  in  Oxford,"  there  issuffi-, 
cient  ground  to  presume  they  were  educated  together  at  ^j; 
the    university,    although   neither  of    their   names   is 
.recorded  by  the  industrious  Anthony  Wood.  ^ 

The  poem  soon  after  its  appearance  must  have  been; 
attacked  by  an  anonymous  critic,  "  one  P.  C."  which  ^(j 
occasioned  the  editor  to  put  forth  an  "  apology"  for  the 
work,  dated  1596,  appended,  we  presume,  to  the  second 

VOL.  IV.  R  edition, 


242 

cH9tl6ir,^kJ'^litlr^Jrt'lie  says,  "'Wi^poeticall  fiction  was 
j)cnne(l  by  the  author  at  least  for  thirty  and  five  yeares 
sithencc,  as  it  will  be  proued."     if  there  was  sufficient 
ground  for  this  assertion,  it  fixes  the  time  of  the  cora- 
porftion  about  1561,  and  supposing  the  author  then, 
as  seems  reasonable  to  presume,  to  have  attained   his 
twenty  first-year,  it  places  the  time  of  his  birth,  as  con- 
jecturally  fixed  by  Mr.  G.  Ellis,  at  1540.     However 
some  doubt  arises  whether  this  inference  is  not  contra- 
dicted by  the  preface  of  1594;  which,  as  in  the  extracts 
will  presently  appear,  describes  the  author  not  only  as 
"  a  scholar  of  very  good  hope,"  but  also  as  a  "  young 
man,"    who  desirous  of  seeing  the  fashions  of  other 
countries,  had,  *f  not  long  sithence,"  departed  volun- 
tarily in  her  majesty^s  service.     Here  the  most  enlarged 
meaning  bestowed  on  the  expression  "  not  long  sithence" 
can  neither  explain  the  sentence  that  calls  him  a  "  scho- 
lar of  very  good  hope,"  nor  that  of  a  "  young  man," 
whereby  they  shall  be  terras  applicable  to  a  person  who 
had  written  thirty  years  before,  and  from  the  above  in- 
ference might  have  been  then  in  the  fifty-fourth  year  of 
his  age.     It  is  probable  the  preface  may  be  relied  on  ; 
otherwif^e  the  author's  departure  from  this  country  will 
be  found  too  remote  for  the  term  of  any  voluntary  en- 
gagement, civil   or  military,  that  could  be  attached  to 
foreign  service.     Dorrell's  subsequent  anachronism  may 
be  ascribed  to  inadvertency;  to  a  zealous  but  hurried 
attempt  to  parry  the  attack  of  the  critic,  by  the  supposed 
youth  of  the  writer  ;  and  by  fixing  the  composition  at  a 
period  sufficiently   early  to  prevent  an    unfavourable 
comparison  with  more  recent  productions,  thereby  to 
claim  indulgence  for  a 

*' fender  muse  that  neuertride. 

Her  ioyntcd  wings  till  present  time."'  '  ^^ 

Our  author  and  his  family  probably  resided  in  K;Mir. 
He  says 

"  At  westerns  side  of  Albion'^s  lie, 
Where  Aiistine  pitcht  his  monkish  tent, 
Where  shephoards  sing,  where  muses  smile. 
The  graces  met  with  one  consent. 
To  frame  each  one  in  sondrie  part 
Some  cunninrj  workfr  Id  shew  their  arte." 

To. 


243 

To  describe  tliis  circumstance  as  havin<j  happened  on 
the  western  side  of  Albion  is  certainly  an  error.  Aus- 
ten, and  his  followers,  first  settled  at  Canterbury  by  the 
direction  of  King  Ethelbert,  where  they  practised  all 
the  self  denial  and  austere  manners  ot  the  lathers  of  the 
primitive  church.     Again  he  says, 

''  Not  farre  from  thence  thpre  lyes  a  Tale, 
A  rosie  vale  in  pleasant  plaine  ; 
The  nimphes  frequent  this  happy  dale, 
Olde  Helicon  reuiues  agahie  : 

Here  Muses  sing,  here  satyres  play, 

Here  mirth  resounds  both  night  and  day. 
At  east  of  this  a  castle  stands, 
By  auncient  shepheards  built  of  olde, 
And  lately  was  in  shepheards  hands, 
Though  now  by  brothers  bought  and  sold  ; 

At  west  side  springs  a  christaii  well; 

There  doth  this  chaste  Auisa  dwell  .... 
Along  this  plaine  there  lyes  a  downe, 
Where  shepheards  feed  their  frisking  flock, 
Her  sire  the  maior  of  the  towne, 
A  louely  shout  of  auncient  stocke  : 

Full  twentie  yeares  she  iiued  a  maid, 
if  7Vi    And  neiler  was  by  man  betraid.** 

ThT§  scenery  may  be  applicable  to  the  same  county, 
and  when  more  minutely  examined,  we  think  will  enable 
us  to  discover  the  family  and  residence  both  of  the 
author  and  his  Avtsa,  but  we  have  not  at  present  time  or 
space  for  the  pursuit  of  this  clue;  of  which  the  result 
ishall  hereafter  be  communicated. 

The  'apology  concludes  with  saying  the  author  is 
**  now  of  late  gone  to  God,"  which  places  that  event 
between  the  dates  of  the  preface,  Oct.  1,  1594,  and  the 
Apology,  30  June,  1596. 

When  the  third  edition  of  this  poem  was  printed  is 
not  yet  discovered.  Although  the  present  article  bears 
an  impress  of  the/t»Mr</i  edition,  they  are  assuredly  all  of 
more  than  common  rarity.  Ritsou  commends  the 
A  visa  as  "  remarkably  smooth  and  fluent  for  its  age,'* 
and  Mr.G.  Ellis  has  pronounced  "  the  metre  of  these 
poems  harmonious  and  pleasing." 

As  an  amatory  effusion  the  length  is  objectionable  ; 
but  the  author  has  attempted  to  relieve  it  by  an  episto* 

R  2  lary 


244 

lary  style,  thereby  forming  a  collection  of  short  poerns 
with  continyity  of  subject.  It  raif^lit  be  dilHcult  to 
select  even  .one  of  those  which  should  entitle  the  writer 
to  any  superior  rank  among  the  poets  of  his  own  period  ; 
ahhough  his  work  contains  passages  of  merit,  and  he 
has  occasionally  succeeded  in  a  pleasing  description  of 
his  subject.  Dorrell  evidently  attempted  to  give  a 
superior  character  to  the  work,  and,  I  suspect,  laboured 
to  fix  it  among  the  poems  of  the  higliest  description. 
In  the  original  title  it  is  said  to  be  "  in  hexameter 
verse,"  whence  Mr.  G.  Ellis  observes  "  it  would  seem 
that  the  term  hexameter  was  applied  to  stanzas  contain- 
ing six  lines,  and  not  to  lines  containing  six  feet.** 
Again,  each  division  of  the  poem,  however  indefinite  the 
length,  when  only  six  lines,  is  entitled  a  canto,  a  term 
then  very  unfitly  used,  unless  for  a  composition  in  the 
heroic  measure. 

The  dedication  is  "  to  all  the  constant  ladies  and 
gentlewomen  of  England  that  feareGod,"  of  whom  the 
writer  tells  "  concerning  this  booke,  which  1  haue 
promised  to  dedicate  to  the  safe  protection  of  your 
accustomed  curtesies,  if  yee  aske  mee  for  the  persons, 
I  am  altogether  ignorant  of  them  and  haue  set  them 
downe  onely  as  I  finde  them  named  or  desciphered  in 

my  author If  mine  authour  have  found  a  Bry- 

tane  Lucretia,  or  an  English  Susanna,  eniiie  not  at  her 
praysc  (good  Ladies)  but  rather  endeuor  to  dcserue  the 
like.  Tliere  may  be  as  much  done  for  any  of  you  as  he 
hath  done  for  his  Avisa."  Subscribed  "  Yours  most 
affectionate  Hadrian  Dorrell.*'  Then  follows  the  pre- 
face, addressed      ^ 

**  To  the  gentle  and  courteous  reader.  It  is  not  long 
sithence  (gentle  reader)  that  my  very  good  friend  and 
chamber.fellow  M.  Henry  Willobie,a  young  man  and  a  schoL 
ler  of  very  good  hope,  being  desirous  to  sco  the  fashions  of 
other  countries  for  a  time,  departed  voluntarily  to  her  ma. 
iestic^s  seruice.  Who  at  his  departure  chose  me  amongst  the 
rest  of  hisfriendes,  vnto  whom  he  reposed  so  much  trust,  that 
he  deliuered  me  the  keye  ol  Ins  study,  and  the  vse  of  all  his 
bookes  till  his  returne.  Amongst  whith  (perusin^  fhem  at 
lejsure)  I  found  many  pritty  and  witty  conceites,  as  I  sup- 
pose of  his  owne  tloing,  one  among  the  rest  I  fancied  so 
much,  that  I  haue  ventured  so  fur  vpon  his  friendship,  as  to 

publisli 


245 

publish  it  wifhont  his  consent.  As  I  thinke  it  not  necessarie 
tobe  ouer  cwrious  in  an  other  man's  ^abour,so  yet  something 
I  must  say  for  tho  better  vnderstanding  of  the  whole  matter. 
And  therefore,  first  for  the  thing  it  selfe,  whether  it  be  al- 
together fained,  or  in  some  part  true,  or  altogether  true, 
and  yet  in  most  part  poetically  shadowed,  you  must  glue  me 
leaue  to  speake  by  coniscture,  and  not  by  knowledge.  My, 
coniecture  is  doubtful,  and  therefore  I  make  you  the  judges. 
Concerning  the  name  of  Auisa,  1  tWnke  it  to  bee  a  fained 
name,  like  vnto  Quid's  Corinna,  and  there  are  two  causes- 
that  make  me  thus  to  thinke,  first,  for  that  1  neuer  heard  of 
any  of  that  name  that  I  remember,  and  next,  for  this  in  a 
▼oid  paper  rolled  vp  in  this  book,  I  found  this  very  name 
Avisa,  written  in  great  letters  a  prety  distancCrasunder,  and 
▼rider  euery  letter  a  wOrd  beginning  with  the  same  letter^  iti 
this  forme, 

A.  V.  I.  S.  A. 

Amans.  vxor.  inuiolata.        semper.         amanda. 

That  is  in  effect,  a  louing  wife  that  neuer  violated  her 
faith  is  alwayes  to  be  beloued.  Which  makes  me  coiecturc, 
that  he'Diinding  for  his  recreatio  to  set  out  the  idea  of  a  con- 
stant wife,  (rather  describing  what  good  wiues  should  do 
then  registring  what  any  hath  dou^)  deuised  a  womau's  name 
that  might  fitly  expresse  this  woman's  nature  whom  he  would 
aime  at :  desirous  in  this  (as  I  coniecture)  to  imitate  a  far  off, 
either  Plato  in  his  common  wealth,  or  More  in  V^i  Vtopia. 
This  my  surmise  of  his  meaning  is' confirmed  also  by  the 
sight  of  other  odde  papers  that  1  found,  wherein  he  had,  as  I 
take  it  out  of  Cornelius  Agrippa,  drawne  the  seueral  disposi- 
tions of  the  Italian,  the  Spaniard,  the  Frenchman,  the  Ger- 
maine,  and  the  Englishman,  and  how  they  are  aftected  in 
loue.  The  Italian  dissembling  his  loue  assaileth  the  woma 
beloued  with  certaine  prepared  wantonesse  :  he  prayseth  her 
in  written  verses,  and  extolleth  her  to  the  heauens. 

"  The  Spaniard  is  impatient  in  burning  loue,  verie  mad 
■with  troubled  laciuiousnesse  ;  he  runneth  furiously,  and  with 
pitifuU  complaintes,  bewayling  his  feruent  desire  ;  doth  call 
Tpon  his  ladie  and  worshippeth  her,  but  hauing  obtained  his 
purpose  maketh  her  common  to  all  nren. 

'i'he  Frenchman  endeuoureth  to  serue,  be  seeketh  to  plea, 
sure  his  woman  with  songs  and  disports,  &c. 

The  Germane  and  Englishman  being  milder  of  nature  are 
inflamed  by  little  and  little,  but  being  enamored,  they  in- 
stantly require  with  arte^  and  entice  with  giftes,  &c.  Which 

seuerall 


U6 

seucrall  qualities  are  generally  expressod  by  th!s  author  \n 
the  two  first  trials  or  assaults,  made  by  the  nobleman,  and 
the  lusti  caualieros,  captaines  or  cutters,  Sec.  signifying  by 
this  generalitie,  that  our  noblemen,  gentlemen,  captaines  and 
lusty  youthes  haue  of  late  learned  the  fashions  of  all  these 
countries,  how  to  solicite  their  causes,  and  court  their  ladies 
and  louprs  ;  and  this  contlnueth  from  the  second  canto  to  the 
ende  of  the  two  and  twentieth. 

"  After  this  hee  comes  to  describe  these  natures  againe  in 
particular  examples  more  plainely,  and  beginneth  first  with 
the  Frenchman  vnder  the  shadow  of  these  letters,  D.  B. 
from  the  three  and  twentieth  canto  vnto  the  end  of  the  three 
and  thirtieth.  Secondly,  the  Englishman  or  Germane,  vn- 
der these  letters,  D.  H.  from  the  34  canto  vnto  the  ende  of 
the  fortie  three,  l^astly,  the  Spaniard  and  Italian  who  more 
furiously  inuadeth  his  loue,  and  more  pathetically  indureth 
then  all  the  rest,  from  the  forty  foure  canto  to  the  end  of  the 
booke.  It  seemes  that  in  this  last  example  thp  author  names 
himself,  and  so  describeth  his  owne  loue :  who  that  was  I  know 
not,  and  I  will  not  be  curious. 

"  All  these  are  so  rightly  described  according  to  their 
natqre  that  it  may  seem  the  author  rather  meant  to  shew 
what  suits  might  be  made,  and  how  they  may  bee  answered, 
then  that  there  hath  beeqe  any  such  thing  indeed 

"  For  the  persons  and  matter,  you  haue  heard  ray  coniec- 
ture :  now  for  the  manner  of  the  composition,  disposition, 
inueation  and  order  of  the  verse,  I  must  leaue  euerie  man's 
sense  to  himself,  for  that  which  pleaseth  me  may  not  fancie 
others.  But  to  speake  my  iudgement,  the  inuention,  the 
argument,  and  the  di^^position,  is  not  common,  nor,  (that  I 
know)  euer  handled  of  any  man  before  in  this  order.  For  the 
composition  and  order  of  the  verse,  although  hee  file  not 
aloft  with  the  winges  of  Astrophel,  nor  dare  to  compare  with 
the  Arcadian  Sheepheard,  or  any  way  match  with  the  daintie 
Faierie  Queene,  yet  shall  you  find  his  wordes  and  phrases 
neither  triuiall,  nor  absurd;  but  all  the  whole  worke,  for  the 
verse  pleasant,  without  hardnes,  smooth  without  any  rough- 
nes,  sweete  without  tediousness,  easie  to  be  vnderstood, 
iiyithout  harsh  absurditie:  yeelding  agratious  harmony  euery 
where,  to  the  delight  of  the  reader. 

"  I  haue  christened  it  by  the  name  of  Willoby  his  Auisa, 
because  I  suppose  it  was  his  doing,  being  written  with  his 
own  hand.  How  he  will  like  my  boldeness,  both  in  the 
publishing  and  naming  of  it,  I  know  not.  For  the  en- 
couraging and  helping  of  maids  and  wiues  to  hold  an  honest 

aad 


247 

and  coDstaat  course  against  all  vrl.  nt";t  and  lewde  tempta* 
tions,  I  haue  done  that  I  haue.done  ;  1  Laiie  pot  added  nor 
detracted  any  thing  from  the  workt  it  selfe,  put  har.o  let  it 
passe  without  altering  any  thing;  onelyin  the  end  Ihauea:ldcd 
to  fill  vp  some  voyd  paper,  certain  fragments  and  diitios,  as 
a  resolution  of  a  chast  and  constant  wife,  to  the  tune  of  for- 
tune, and  the  prayse  of  a  contented  luind,  which  I  foud 
wrapped  altogether  with  this,  and  therefore  knew  not  wheifi^r 

^  did  any  way  belong  vnto  this  or  not. 

^,  "  Thus  leauing  to  trouble  your  patience  with  farther  delaies ; 

dt  commit  you  to  the  good  gouernment  of  God's  spirit.    From 

ray  chamber  in  Oxford  this  first  of  October.  "  ! 

,,  "  f^driau  Dorrell.'^"' 

,^  Verses  by  "  Abell  Emet  in  commendation  of  VVillo- 
bie's  Auisa,"  praise  his  silver  pipe  for  its  sweet  sounds, 
and  his  lofty  style,  which  with  golden  wings  remounts 
the  fame  of  worthy  dames.  The  next  poem  we  shall 
give  entire,  for  it  bears  a  fiat  in  the  name  of  Sh^)^- 
speare.  ,,,l,i 

In  prayse  of  Willoby  his  Auisa,  Hexametron  to  the  Author. 

"  In  lauine  land  though  Liuie  boast, 
There  hath  beene  scene  a  constant  dame  ; 
Though  Rome  lament  that  she  haue  lost 
,  .^.^^fhe  garland  of  herrarest  fame, 

Yet  now  ye  see  that  here  is  found 
As  great  a  faith  in  English  ground, 
,^       Though  Collatine  haue  dearly  bought 
.-j,j^       To  high  renowne  a  lasting  life, 
i   .       And  found,  that  most  in  vaine  haue  sought 
I,       To  haue  a  faire  and  constant  wife,  ^\^ 

Yet  Tarquine  pluckt  his  glistring  grape,  '^* 

And  Shake.speare  paintes  poor  Lucrece  rape.* ,'  |^ 
Though  Susan  shine  in  faithfull  prayse,  '^'^' 

As  twinckiing  starres  in  crystall  skie  :  • 

^u        Penelop's  fame  though  Greekes  do  raise, 

Of  faithfull  wiues  to  make  vp  three  ;  ''" 

To  thinke  the  truth,  and  say  no  lesse,  ^^ 

Our  Auisa  shall  make  a  messe  ;  !*" 

This  number  knits  so  sure  a  knot, 
Time  doubts  that  he  shall  adde  no  more, 

*  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  as  well  as  the  Avisa  originally  appeared 
in  1594:  but  it  is  not  probable  that  the  above  comraendatcry  lines 
were  published  earlier  than  1596,  which  is  the  date  given  to  the 
piece  of  Emet  in  the  £tt;jogrfl/>Aia  Poe^ica.     fi\ti()it^uk 

*  V  nconstant 


Vnconstant  Nature  hath  begot 
Of  fleeting  fecmes  such  fide  store, 

Two  thousand  yearcs  haue  scarcely  secnrj 

Such  as  the  worst  of  these  haue  beene. 
Then  Aui-Susan  ioyne  in  one, 
Let  Lucres  Auis  be  thy  name, 
This  English  eagle  soaros  alone, 
And  far  surmounts  all  others  fame, 

Where  high  or  low,  where  great  or  small, 

This  Brytan  bird  out  Hies  them  all. 
Were  these  three  happie,  that  haue  found 
Braue  poets  to  depaint  their  praise  ? 
Of  rural!  pipe,  with  sweetest  sound, 
That  haue  beene  heard  these  many  dayes, 

Sweet  Willobie  his  Auis  blest, 

That  makes  her  mount  aboue  the  rest. 

Contraria  Contrariis 

Vigilantius  Dormitanus. 

The  introductory  canto  has  a  description  of  the  heror 
ine,  lier  beauty  and  rare  accomplishments,  and  the  gifts 
bestowed  upon  her  by  Venus,  Pallas  and  Diana,  who 
are  called  *'  the  graces."*  With  the  second  canto  com- 
mences "  the  first  triall  of  A  visa,  before  she  was  raaried, 
by  a  nobleman  :  vnder  which  is  represented  a  warning  to 
all  young  maids  of  euery  degree,  that  they  beware  of 
the  alluring  inticements  of  great  men."  Of  this  part 
the  four  concluding  cantos  are  here  given. 

Cant.  X.     Nob\leman.'\ 

Well  then  I  see  you  haue  decreed. 
And  this  decree  must  light  on  me : 
Vnhappie  lillie  loues  a  weede. 
That  giues  no  sent  that  yeelds  not  glee  ; 

Thou  art  the  first  1  euer  tride, 

Shall  I  at  first  be  thus  denide  ? 
My  haplesse  hap  fel  much  awry, 
To  fixe  my  fancle's  prime  delight 
In  haggard  hauke  that  mounts  so  hie, 
That  rhecks  the  lure  and  fawkner's  sight, 

But  soare  you  hie,  or  ilie  you  low, 

Stoup  needs  you  must,  before  you  goe. 

♦  Some   of  the  attributes  conferred  are  rather  singular,  for 
:'  Venus,  fram'd  a  luriiig  eye,"  and  "  Pallas  gaue  a  reaching  head." 

Your 


249 

Your  modest  speech  is  not  amisse  ;  iWS^a^ 

Your  maiden's  blush  becomes  you  well,  K) 

Now  will  1  see  how  sweet  you  kisse, 
And  so  my  purpose  farder  tell : 

Your  coy  lookes  and  trtckes  arevaine, 
I  will  no  nay,  and  that  is  plaine, 
Thou  must  perforce  be  well  content  :. 

To  let  me  winne  thee  with  thy  will  ;  t  A 

Thy  chiefest  frends  haue  giu'n  consent, 
And  therefore  thinke  it  is  not  ill ; 
Abandon  all  thy  fond  delay  ; 
And  marke  this  well,  that  1  shall  say. 
My  house,  my  heart,  my  land,  my  life, 
My  credit  to  thy  care  I  glue  : 
And  if  thou  list  to  be  a  wife. 
In  shew  of  honest  fame  to  Hue  : 

lie  fit  ihee  one  shall  beare  thy  cloke. 
And  be  a  chimnie  for  the  smoke. 
But  say  the  word  it  shall  be  done, 
And  what  thou  list  or  what  thou  craue  ; 
What  so  be  lost,  what  euer  wonne, 

Shall  nothing  want,  that  thon  wilt  haue.  t 

•if  Thou  shalt  haue  all,  what  wilt  thou  more,     Alai>  sin 

jb":  Which  neuer  woman  had  before.  i'jOii^ea 

oi        Here's  fortie  angels  to  begin,  'io/i  fi  "^d 

{n         A  littlo  pledge  of  great  good  will,  ■   Jlc 

•  jj      ,  To  buy  thee  lace,  to  buy  a  pin ;  ^dl 

i  will  be  carefull  of  thee  still  ;  »jfff 

If  youth  be  quaild,  if  1  be  olde, 
I  can  supply  that  with  my  golde. 
Silke  gown<;'S  and  veluet  shalt  thou  haue. 
With  hoods  and  caules,  fit  for  thy  head. 
Of  goldsmithe's  worke  a  border  braue, 
A  chain  of  gold  ten  double  spread ; 
And  all  the  rest  shall  answere  this, 
My  purse  shall  see  that  nothing  raisse. 
Two  waiting  maides  attendant  still, 
Two  seruing  men,  foure  geldings  prest,  •' 

Goe  where  you  list,  ride  where  you  will, 
No  iealous  thought  shall  me  molest : 
Two  hundreth  pounds  I  do  entend, 
To  giue  thee  yearely  for  to  spend: 
Of  this  I  will  assurance  make, 
To  some  good  friend  whom  thou  wilt  chuse,         '   . 
That  this  in  trust  from  me  shall  take, 

While 


250 

While  thou  doest  liue,  vnto  thy  vse  : 
A  thousand  niarkes  to  thee  I  giue, 
And  all  my  Jewels  when  1  die. 
This  will  1  doe  whateuer  chance. 
He  shortly  send  and  fetch  thee  hence; 
Thy  chiefest  friends  I  will  aduauce, 
And  leaue  them  cause  of  no  offence: 
For  all  this  same,  I  onely  craue, 
But  thy  good  will,  that  let  me  haue. 
A  modest  maide  is  loth  to  say 
In  open  wordes  she  doth  couscnf. 
Till  gentle  force  do  breake  the  stay  : 
Come  on  mine  owne,  and  be  content ; 
Possesse  me  of  my  loue's  desire,   ■ 
And  let  me  taste  that  1  require. 

Cant.  XI.  Avisa. 

Hand  off"  my  Lord,  this  will  not  serue, 
Your  wisdome  wanders  much  awry, 
From  reason's  rule  thus  farre  to  swenie ; 
He  neuer  yeeld,  He  rather  die  : 
Except  you  leaue,  and  so  depart, 
This  knife  shall  sticke  within  your  hart. 
Is  this  the  loue  your  franticke  fit 
Did  so  pretend  in  glosing  shew  I 
Are  these  your  waies  ?  is  this  your  wit 
To  tice  and  foree  poore  maidens  so  ? 
You  striue  in  vaine,  by  raging  lust 
To  {^aine  consent,  or  make  me  trust. 
For  who  can  trust  your  flattering  stile, 
Your  painted  wordes,  your  braue  pretence, 
When  you  will  striue  by  trained  wile 
To  force  consent  to  lewde  offence ; 

Then  thus  to  yeeld  by  chaunted  charmes, 
He  rather  die  within  your  armes. 
Your  golden  angels  I  repell, 
Your  lawlesse  lust  1  here  defie  : 
These  angels  are  the  postes  of  hell, 
That  often  lead  poore  soules  awry  : 
Shame  on  them  all,  your  eyes  shall  see, 
These  angels  haue  no  power  of  me. 
Your  gownes  of  silke,  your  golden  chaines 
Your  me,  your  maids,  your  hundreth  pounds. 
Are  nothing  els  but  deulish  traines, 
That  fill  fond  eares  with  tickling  sounds ; 


S51 

A  bladder  full  of  trayterous  wind^f^t  MiiVff 

And  fardest  off  from  filthie  mind.J     ,t  A  . 
Well,  sith  }Our  meauiDg  now  is  plaine,  ,  ^, 
And  lust  would  ^iue  no  longer  leaue 
To  faithlesse  heart  to  lie  and  faine, 
Which  might  perchance  in  time  decelue, 
By  Jesus  Cliristl  do  protest, 
I'le  neuer  grant  that  you  request. 

Cant.  12.     Nob.  Furens. 

Thou  beggar's  brat,  thou  dunghill  mate, 
Thou  clownish  spawne,  thou  countrie  git, 
My  loue  is  turnd  to  wrfakfull  hate, 
Go  hang  and  keepe  tliy  credit  still : 
Gad  where  thou  list,  aright  or  wrong, 
I  hope  to  see  thee  beg  ere  long. 
Was  this  groat  offer  well  refus'd  ? 
Or  was  this  proti'er  all  too  base? 
Am  I  fit  man  to  be  abusde 
With  such  disgrace  by  flattering  grace  ? 
On  thee  or  thine,  as  I  am  man, 
I  will  r'^uenge  this  if  I  can. 
Thou  thinkst  thy  selfe  a  peerelesse  piece ; 
And  peeuish  pride,  that  doth  possesse 
Thy  heart,  perswades  that  thou  art  wise, 
When  God  doth  know  ther's  nothing  lesse  : 
'Twas  not  thy  beautie  that  did  mouc 
This  fond  aiiect,  but  blinded  loue. 
I  hope  to  see  some  countrie  cloune 
Possessor  of  that  flattering  face  ; 
When  need  shal  force  thy  prid»'  comedown, 
I'le  laugh  to  see  thy  foolish  case  ; 

For  thou  that  thinkst  thy  selfe  so  braue, 
Wilt  take  at  last  some  paltrie  knaue. 
Thou  selfe- will  gig  that  doest  detest 
Aly  faithfull  loue,  looke  to  thy  fame;    . 
Jf  thou  oft'cnd  i  do  protest, 
I'le  bring  tiiee  out  to  open  shame  : 
For  sith  thou  fainst  thy  selfe  so  pure, 
Looke  to  thy  leapes  that  they  be  sure. 
J  was  thy  friend,  but  now  thy  foe, 
Thou  hadst  my  heart  but  now  my  hate; 
Refusing  wealth,  God  send  thee  woe; 
ilepentance  now  will  come  too  late  : 


That 


252 

That  tongue  that  did  protest  my  faith 
Shall  waile  thy  pride,  and  wish  thy  death. 

Cant.  XIIL     Avisa. 

Yea  so  I  thought,  this  is  the  end 

Of  wandring  lust  resembling  loue. 

Wa'st  loue  or  lust  that  did  entend 

buch  frendlesse  force,  as  you  did  moue : 
Though  you  may  vaunt  of  happier  fate, 
I  am  content  with  my  estate. 

I  rather  chuse  a  quiet  mind, 

A  conscience  cleare  from  bloudie  sinnes, 

Then  short  delights,  and  there-in  find 
iio;??fThar  gnawing  worme,  that  neuer  linnes. 
•,   '■         Your  bitter  speeches  please  me  more 
<j(.i  Then  all  your  wealth,  then  all  your  store. 

b'nj'iilJ  loue  to  line  deuoid  of  crime, 
?i:iii(jf  Although  I  beg,  although  I  pine, 
loJlwl  These  fading  ioyes  for  litle  time 
jbahiulnohrace  who  list,  1  here  resigne : 
l«£{b  I    How  poore  I  go,  iiow  meane  I  fare. 

If  God  be  pleasd  I  do  not  care. 
sin)  isl  rather  beare  your  raging  ire, 

Although  you  sweare  reuengement  deep, 

Then  yeeld  for  gaine  to  lewd  desire, 

That  you  might  laugh,  when  I  should  weep; 
Your  lust  wpuld  like  but  for  a  space. 
But  who  could  salue  my  foule  disgrace. 

Mine  eares  haue  heard  your  taunting  words  : 
,,         Of  yeelding  fooles  by  you  betraid, 
31        Amongst  your  mates  at  open  hordes, 
sooi  1/Knowst  such  a  wife  ?  kuowst  such  a  maid  ? 
w,,(  -      Then  must  you  laugh,  then  must  you  wink, 
\  And  leaue  the  rest  for  them  to  thinke. 

,,     ,  ,  Nay.y et  well  fare  the  happie  life, 
lis^tii/i-'hat  need  not  blush  at  euerie  view  ; 
.-i.>q    Although  I  be  a  poore  man's  wife, 
•  uio^  Yet  theu  I'le  laugh  as  well  as  you. 

Then  laugh  as  long  as  you  thinke  best, 
My  fact  shall  frame  you  no  such  iest. 

If  I  do  hap  to  leape  aside, 

f  must  not  come  to  you  for  aide ; 

Alas  now  that  you  be  denide. 

You  think  to  make  me  sore  afraide : 

.,  1  uM«  »aii;**<m»i  «iiJ,  Nay 


253 

Nay  watch  your  worst,  I  do  not  care  ; 

If  I  olFend,  pray  do  not  spare. 
You  were  my  friend,  you  were  but  dust, 
The  Lord  is  he,  whom  I  do  loue. 
He  hath  my  heart,  in  hitn  I  trust, 
And  he  doth  gard  me  from  aboue  : 

I  weigh  not  death,  I  feare  not  holl, 

This  is  enough,  and  so  farewell. 

**  The  second  temptation  of  Avisa  [is]  after  her  marriage 
by  Ruffians,  Roysters,  yong  Gentlemen  and  !-usty  Captaines, 
which  all  she  quickly  cuts  off." 

This  occupies  nine  short  poems. 

"  The  third  triall :  wherein  are  expressed  the  long  passion, 
ate  and  constant  affections  of  the  close  and  warie  suter, 
which  by  signes,  by  sighes,  by  letters,  priuy  messengers,  by 
iewels,  rings,  gold,  diuers  gifts,  and  hy  a  long  continued 
course  of  curtesie,  at  length  preuaileth  with  many  both  maids 
and  wiues,  if  they  be  not  garded  wonderfully  with  a  better 
spirite  then  their  owne  :  which  all  are  here  finely  daunted, 
and  mildly  ouorthrowne  by  tiie  constant  ^usweres-  and  chast 
replies  of  Auisa."  >  •- 

As  mentioned  above  in  the  preface,  the  author  in  this 
division  introduces  his  own  passion  for  Avisa. 

Cant.  XLIIL 

^'  Henrico  Willobego  Italo  Hispalensis. 
*'  Hen.  Will,  being  sodainly  infected  with  the  contagion 
of  a  fantasticall  fitte,  at  the  first  sight  of  A.  pyneth  awhile  in 
secret  griefe,  at  length  not  able  any  longer  to  indure  the 
burning  heat  of  so  feruent  a  humor,'  bewrayeth  the  secrecie 
of  his  disease  vnto  his  familiar  friend  W.  S.  who  not  long 
before  had  tryed  the  curtesie  of  the  like  passion,  and  was  now 
newly  recouered  of  the  like  infections  :  yet  finding  his  friend 
let  bloud  in  the  same  veine,  he  tooke  pleasure  for  a  time  to 
see  him  bleed,  and  in  steed  of  stopping  the  issue,  he  inlarged 
the  wound  with  the  sharpe  rasor  of  a  willing  conceit,  per- 
swadiiighim  that  he  thought  it  a  matter  very  easy  to  be  com- 
pajsed,  and  no  doubt,  with  paine,  diligence  and  some  cost  in 
lime  to  be  obtained.  Thus  this  miserable  comforter  comfort- 
ing his  friend  with  an  impossibility,  either  for  that  bee  now 
would  secretly  laugh  at  his  friend's  follie,  that  had  giuen  occa- 
sion not  long  before  vnto  others  to  laugh  at  his  owne,  or^ 
because  ho  would  see  whether  another  could  play  his  part 
better  Jhen  himselfe,  and  in  vewing  a  far  off  the  course  of 
r  this 


554 

"this  louing  comedy,  he  deternf>i«ed  to  see  whether  it  would 
sort  to  a  happier  end  for  this  new  actor,  then  did  it  for  the 
old  prayer.*  But  at  length,  this  comedy  was  like  to  haoegrowne 
to  a  tragedy,  by  the  weake  and  feeble  estate  that  Hen.  Will. 
was  brought  vntu,  by  a  desperat  vew  of  an  impossibilitie  of 
obtaining  his  purpose,  till  time  and  necessity  being  his  best 
phisitians  brought  him  a  plaster,  if  not  to  heale,  yet  in  part 
to  ease  his  malady,  in  all  which  discourse  is  liuely  represented 
thevnruly  rageof  vnbrideledfancie,  hauiiig  the  raioes  to  roue 
at  libertie,  with  the  diuers  and  sundrie  changes  of  affections 
and  temptations  which  will,  set  loose  from  reason,  deuise, 
&c.  H.  VV. 

Hen.  Wiil. 
What  sodaine  chac  or  change  is  this 
That  doth  bereau  my  quiet  rest  ? 
What  surly  cloud  eclipst  my  blisse  ; 
What  spirite  doth  rage  in  my  brest  ? 
Such  fancie  qualines  I  neuer  found. 
Till  first  I  saw  this  westerne  ground. 
Can  change  of  ayre  complexions  change, 
And  strike  the  sences  out  of  frame  ? 
Though  this  be  true,  yet  this  is  strange^ 
Sith  I  so  lately  hither  came  : 
And  yet  in  bodie  cannot  find 
So  great  a  change  as  in  [my]  mind. 
IVIy  lustlesse  limmes  do  pine  awayj 
Because  my  hart  is  dea<l  within^  '  ' 

All  liuely  heat  1  feele  decay, 
And  deadly  cold  his  rorae  doth  winne  : 
My  humors  all  are  out  of  frame, 
I  frize  amidst  the  burning  flame. 
I  haue  the  feuer  ethike  right, 
I  burne  within,  consume  without, 
And  hauing  melted  all  my  might. 
Then  followes  death,  without  all  doubt. 
O  fearefull  foole,  that  know  my  griefii^  • 
Yet  sue  and  seeke  for  no  reliefe. 
I  know  the  time,  I  know  the  place, 
Both  when  and  where  my  eye  did  view, 
That  nouell  shape,  that  friendly  face, 
That  so  doth  make  my  heart  to  rew.  .  "^ 

O  happie  time  if  she  incline. 
If  not  woe  worth  these  lucklesse  eyne.- 
1  loue  the  seate  where  she  did  sit, 
I  kisse  the  grasse  where  she  did  tread. 

•  Sic,  misprint  for  player.  M« 


'  '         Me  thiokes  I  see  that  face  as  yet. 

And  eye  (hat  all  these  turmoyles  breed  : 

I  eriuie  that  this  seat,  this  ground, 

Such  friendly  grace  and  fauor  found.  oi 

1  dream't  of  late,  God  grant  that  dreanie  • " 

Portend  my  good,  that  she  did  meet 
Me  in  this  greene  by  yonder  streame, 
And  smiling  did  me  friendly  greet : 

Where  wandring  dreames  be  iust  or  wrong, 

I  minde  to  trie  ere  it  be  long. 
But  yonder  comes  my  faithfull  friend, 
That  like  assaults  hath  often  tride ; 
On  his  aduise  1  will  depend, 
Where  I  shall  winne,  or  bedenyde  ; 

And  looke  what  counsell  he  shall  giue, 

That  will  I  dOj  where  die  or  Hue. 

Cant.  XLV.     H.  S.* 

Wei  met  friend  Harry,  what's  the  cause 
You  looke  so  pale  with  Lenton  cheekes? 
Your  wanny  face  and  sharpned  nose 
Shew  plaine  your  mind  some  thing  misUkes  : 

If  you  will  tell  me  what  it  is, 

I'le  help  to  mend  what  is  amisse. 
What  is  she,  man,  that  workes  thy  woe, 
And  thus  thy  trickling  fancie  moue  ? 
Thy  drowsie  eyes,  and  sighes  do  shoe 
This  new  disease  proceds  of  loue  : 

Tell  what  she  is  that  witcht  thee  so, 

I  sweare  it  shall  no  farther  go. 
A  heauie  burden  wearieth  one. 
Which  being  parted  then  in  twaine, 
Seemes  very  light  or  rather  none, 
And  boren  well  with  little  paine  : 

The  smothered  flame,  too  closely  pent, 

Burns  more  extreame  for  want  of  vent. 
So  sorrowes  shrynde  in  secret  breast 
Attainte  the  heart  with  hotter  rage, 
Then  griefes  that  are  to  friends  exprest. 
Whose  comfort  may  some  part  ass  wage  : 

If  I  a  frend,  whose  faith  is  tride,  « 

Let  this  request  not  be  denide. 

*  Misprint  for  W.  S.  as  confirmed  afterwards  and  by  the  above 
prose  address. 

'  Excessiae 


256 

Excessiae  griefe  doth  counsels  want, 

And  cloud  the  sence  from  sharpe  conceits  ; 

No  reason  rules,  where  sorroues  plant, 

And  follie  feeds,  where  furie  frets  ; 
Tell  what  she  is,  and  you  shall  see, 
What  hope  and  helpc  shall  come  from  me. 

Our  extracts  already  extend  beyond  customary  limits; 
and  we  therefore  omit  the  correspondence  of  Willoby 
with  A  visa,  and  proceed  to 

THE    author's     conclusion. 

So  thus  she  stands  vnconquered  yet, 
As  lambe  amidst  the  lion*s  pawes. 
Whom  gifts,  no  wiles,  nor  force  of  wit, 
Could  vanquish  once  for  all  their  shewes. 

To  speake  the  truth  and  say  no  more, 

I  neuer  knew  her  like  before. 
Then  blame  me  not  if  I  protest. 
My  silly  muse  shall  still  commend 
This  constant  A.  aboue  the  rest, 
While  other  learne  their  life  to  mend. 

My  tongue  on  high,  and  high  shall  raise, 

And  alway  sing  her  worthy  prayse. 
While  hand  can  write,  while  wit  deuise, 
While  tongue  is  free  to  make  report, 
Her  Tertne  shall  be  had  in  prise 
Among  the  best  and  honest  sort. 

And  they  that  will  mislike  of  this, 

I  shall  suspect  they  strike  amisse* 
Eternall  then  let  be  the  fame 
Of  such  as  hold  a  constant  minde; 
Eternall  be  the  lasting  shame, 
Of  such  as  wane  with  euery  winde  : 

Though  some  there  be  that  will  repine. 

Yet  some  will  prayse  this  wish  of  mine. 
But  here  1  cease  for  feare  of  blame, 
Although  there  be  a  great  deale  more, 
That  might  be  spoken  of  this  dame  , 

That  yet  lies  hid  in  secret  store : 

If  this  be  lik't  then  can  I  say. 

Ye  may  see  more  another  day. 

Agitante  calescimus  illo 

Farewell, 
Finis, 

Next 


257 

Next  follows  "  the  Apologie  shewing  the  true  mean- 
ing of  Willoby  his  Auisa  :"  from  the  pen  of  the  editor. 
To  this  he  was  certainly  provoked  by  the  anonymous 
critic,  already  alluded  to,  as  appears  by  the  following 
extracts. 

"  Most  I  maruaile  that  one  P.  C.  (who  seemeth  to  be  a 
scholer)  hath  beene  carried  away  with  this  stream  ofamiscon. 
ceiued  folly  :  For  1  dare  pawne  my  life,  that  there  is  no  per- 
ticular  woman  in  the  world,  that  was  eyther  partie  or  priuie 
to  anye  one  sentence  or  word  in  that  booke.  This  poeticall 
fiction  was  penned  by  the  author  at  least  for  thirty  and  fiue 
yeares  sithence,  (as  it  will  be  proued)  and  lay  in  wast  papers 
in  his  st-udie,  as  many  other  prettie  things  did,  of  his  deuising, 
and  so  might  haue  continued  still  (as  his  Susanna  yet  doth) 
had  not  I  contrarie  to  his  knowledge  with  paine  collected  it ; 
and  (in  consideration  of  the  good  ende,  to  which  it  was 
directed,)  published  it.  Seeing  therefore  that  I  gaue  the 
offence,  I  must  satisfie  for  it,  in  defending  innocents  from 
slaunderous  tongues.  This  plaine  morall  deuise  was  plotted 
onely  for  the  repression  and  opening  of  vice,  and  so  the  exal. 
tation  and  triumph  of  yertue,  as  he  himselfe  saith, 

**  My  sleepie  muse  that  wakes  but  now, 
"  To  Tertue's  praise  hath  past  her  vow." 

'*  Vertue  therefore  being  Gentis,  and  chastitie  Species,  if  he 
should  haue  discribed  it  either  in  Gewere,  or /Specie,  as  some  haue 
dono,  he  might  haue  beene  as  obscure  as  some  others  haue 
beene.  He  fayned  therefore  an  indiuiduum,  as  it  were  a  par. 
ticular  of  thisspeciall,  the  more  familiarly  to  expresse  it,  as 
it  were  in  common  talke,  as  if  two  did  answere  one  another, 
to  delight  the  reader  the  more,  with  varietie  of  follie  quenched 
presently,  with  the  like  varietie  of  vertue.  To  this  fayned 
indiuiduum  he  gaue  this  fained  name  Auisa,  which  poeticall 
fiction  P.  C.  calleth  a  pamphlet.  It  is  folly  for  a  man  to 
despise  that  which  he  cannot  mend.  The  author  was  vn. 
knowen,  not  because  he  could  not,  but  because  he  would 
not  knuwe  him  :  his  true  name  being  open  euerie  page.  He 
saith  :  the  author  hath  registred  the  meanest.  I  thought  that 
chastitie  had  not  bene  the  meanest,  but  rather  one  of  the 
greatest  giftes  that  God  giuethto  men  or  women.  If  by  the 
meanest,  hee  meane  anye  other  obiector  subiect  of  Willobie 
his  muse,  then  chastitie  it  selfe,  (vnder  the  fayned  name  of 
A'visA)  it  is  a  meaning  of  his  owne  making  ;  and  a  subiect  of 
his  owne  suggestion,  far  from  the  mind  of  the  first  maker. 
None  can  eternize  their  follie  in  things  which  they  neuer 

T0». IT.  s  thought 


258 

thought  of:  but  I  pray  God  some  other  haue  not  eternixed 
their  follies,  more  waies  then  one.  If  this  fained  name  of 
Atisa  mislike  any  man,  for  any  hidden  or  priuate  cause  to 
the  author  or  me  vnknowen,  let  him  call  it  what  he  will :  so 
that  he  vnderstand,  that  it  is  chastitie  it  selfe,  not  any  woman 
in  the  world  that  is  fained  to  giue  these  soyles  to  this  foule 
yice 

**  Concerning  the  fayned  name  of  Avis  A,  I  haue  shewed  the 
author's  deuise  and  his  reason  for  the  fiction,  in  the  first  preface, 
which  I  thought  would  haue  quailed  all  other  fictions  whatso- 
euer.  But  yet  if  farder  yee  will  haue  my  conceit,  the  order, 
words,  and  frame  of  the  whole  discourse  force  me  to  thinkethat 
which  I  am  vnwilling  to  say:  That  this  name  insinuateth  that 
there  was  neuer  such  a  woman  seene  as  here  is  described.  For 
the  worde  Avisa  is  compounded  (after  the  Greeke  maner)  of 
the  priuatiue  particle  A,  which  signifieth  non  ;  and  of  the 
particle  visus,  visa,  visum,  which  signifieth,  seene  :  So.  that 
A'uisa  should  signifie,  by  this  as  much  as  nonvisa,  that  is,  such 
a  woman  as  was  neuer  seene.  Which  if  it  be  true  the  Auisa 
is  yet  vnborne  that  must  reioyce  in  this  praise 

'*  But  to  conclude,  thus  much  I  dare  precisely  aduouch 
that  the  author  intended  in  this  discourse,  neyther  the  de- 
scription nor  prayse  of  any  particular  woman.  Nor  the  na- 
ming or  cyphering  of  any  particular  man.  But  in  generall 
THder  a  fained  name  insinuateth  what  godly  and  constant 
women  should  doe  and  say  in  such  lewde  temptations.  And 
also,  vnder  fained  letters,  generally  expresseth  what  course 
most  of  these  lawlesse  suters  take,  in  pursuit  of  their  fancied 
fooleries,  and  therefore  this  P.  C.  hath  offered  manifest  iniurie 
to  some,  what  euer  they  bee  whome  his  priuate  fancie  hath 
secretly  framed  in  conceit. 

^*  This  is  the  least  that  I  could  say,  and  the  last  that  euer 
I  will  say,  touching  this  matter,  in  defence  of  my  friend. 
If  any  notwithstanding  will  continue  the  error  of  their  vnsa- 
tisfied  minds  they  must  for  euer  reste  in  the  rightlesse  erring 
till  the  author  (now  of  late  gone  to  God)  returne  from 
heauen  to  satisfie  them  farder  touching  his  meaning.  And  so 
farewell.  Oxford,  this  30  of  June  1596.  Thine  to  vse, 
Hadrian  Borrell." 

At  the  end  of  the  volume  are  three  poems.  The  first 
is  entitled  "  the  Victorie  of  English  Chastitie,  vnder  the 
fained  name  of  Avisa:"  and  the  subject  a  contention 
amoDg  the  goddesses  Juno,  Venus,  Diana  and  Pallas, 

whetheir 


2^9 

whether  the  Grecian  darae  Penelope  or  Avisa  should 
bear  the  palm  for  chastity. 

**  Whilst  Eris  flasht  these  fretting  flames, 
A  noble  prince  in  Rosie  borne, 
Rogero,  right  to  angry  dames, 
His  flying  steed,  and  pace  did  turne, 

Which  done  they  all  did  straight  agree, 

That  this  Rogero  iudge  should  be." 

Rogero  decides  in  favor  of  Avisa.  The  choice  of 
Rogero  for  a  judge  no  doubt  arose  from  the  translation  of 
Ariosto  by  Harington,  which  appeared  in  1591  ;  but 
does  not  assist  in  fixing  the  date  of  the  preceding  work ; 
being  subscribed  "  Thomas  Willobie  frater  Henrici 
Willobie  nuper  defuncti.''^ 

The  other  two  pieces  are  those  "  wrapped  altogether" 
with  the  Avisa,  entitled  "  the  Resolution  of  a  Chast  and 
Constant  Wife,"  in  quatrains,  and  "  the  Praise  of  a  Con- 
tented Mind." 

J.H. 


A  Pleasant  conceite  penned  in  verse.  Collourablj/  sette 
out,  and  humblie  presented  on  Nem-y  teres  day  last,  to 
the  Queene^s  Maiestie  at  Hampton  Courte.  Anno 
Dominiy  1593.  At  London,  Printed  by  Roger  Warde^ 
dwelling  in  Holbitrne  at  the  signe  of  the  Castle.* 

This  is  one  of  the  periodical  addresses  presented  by 
Churchyard  to  his  royal  mistress,  *'  in  signe  and  token 
|]as  he  tells  her  in  the  dedication]  that  your  goodnesse 
towardes  me  oftentimes,  and  cheetely  now  for  my  pen- 
cyon,  shal  neuer  goe  out  of  my  remembraunce." 

By  "  a  pleasant  conceite"  he  describes  as  a  painter 
the  **  trym  townes  and  stately  towers"  of  INorth-hamp- 
ton,  Warwicke,  Bedford,  Ly ncolne,  Kyldare,  Hartford, 
Huntington,  Woster,  South-hampton,  Pembroke, 
Shrewsbrie  and  Oxford  :  concluding  with  a  brief  com- 
pliment io  the  Queen  and  the  dames  sitting  near  the 
cloth  of  state ;  and  where 

•  Quarto,  eight  leaves.  The  first  has  sig.  A.  only,  and  the  last 
is  entirely  blank.  The  whole  tract  may  be  found  in  Nichols's 
Progresses. 

6  stood 


260 

■  stood  5  fair 'flowers  whose  beauty  bred  disdaine^ 

Who  came  at  certain  houres,  as  nymphs  of  Dian's  train. 

As  the  poet  in  one  line  declares  "  theyr  names  are 
heere  that  lionour  much  our  state,"  those  of  the  towns 
had  probably  personal  reference,  though  the  descriptions 
are  not  sufficiently  complimentary  to  woo  and  win  female 
ears,  being  chiefly  of  their  ancient  topographical  charac- 
ter. A  second  poem  inscribed  "  to  the  generall  readers,'* 
was  probably  added  toencrease  the  size  of  the  pamphlet. 

*'  Reade  with  good  will,  and  iudge  it  as  ye  ought, 
And  spare  such  speech,  as  fauour  can  bestow  : 
So  shall  you  find  the  meaning  of  bis  thought, 
That  did  this  work  in  clowd  and  coUours  show^ 
Wrest  things  aright  but  doe  no  further  goe  : 
In  ballance  thus  wey  words  with  equall  weight, 
So  wisdom's  skill  shall  scanne  the  matter  streigbt." 

In  one  place  he  alludes  to  another  piece  of  bis  own 
not  generally  known. 

"  The  booke  I  call'd  of  late  My  deere  adieWf 
Is  now  become  my  welcome  home  most  kinde  ; 
For  old  mishaps  are  heal'd  with  fortune  new, 
That  brings  a  balme  to  cure  a  wounded  mind ; 
From  God  and  Prince  I  now  such  fauour  find, 
That  full  afloate  in  flood  my  shyp  it  rydes, 
At  anchor  hold,  against  all  checking  tydes." 

Gabriel  Harvey's  attack  upon  Tom  Nash  occasions 
him  to  declare  his  amity  with  the  latter. 

"  No  writer  now  dare  say  the  crowe  is  blacke, 
For  cruell  kytes  will  craue  the  cause  and  why  ; 
A  faire  white  goose  beares  feathers  on  her  backe, 
That  gaggles  still  much  like  a  chattring  pye : 
The  angell  bright  that  Gahrill  is  in  sky, 
Shall  know  that  Naslie  I  loue  and  will  doe  still, 
When  Gabrils  words  scarce  winnes  our  world's  good  will." 

E.  Hood. 


TO  CORRESPONDENTS. 

The  gratifying  and  highly  valuable  "  Anglo-Saxon 
Poem,  on  the  Battle  of  Finsborough,"  with  Latin  and 
English  versions,  came  too  late  for  insertion  in  the  pre- 
sent Number  with  the  care  that  is  due  to  it ;  but  we 
promise  our  readers  this  curious  article  in  our  next. 


3$rttisf)  3Si!)liograp{)er^ 


±L 


N^  XV. 


f[  anglO'&aron  ^oem  on  tge  Battle  of  iFinjJ^ 
borougg, 

1  HE  Anglo-Saxon  Ode  or  Song  on  the  Battle  of 
Brunanburg,  preserved  in  the  Chronicle,  edited  by 
Bishop  Gibson,  is  well  known  to  all  admirers  of  our 
ancient  poetry.  It  has  been  translated  and  commented 
upon  by  more  than  one  intelligent  antiquary.  The 
fragment,  which  is  the  subject  of  the  present  com- 
munication, although  perhaps  little  inferior  to  that 
well-known  composition,  either  in  antiquity  or  poetical 
merit,  and  preserving  the  memory  of  a  contest  recorded 
in  no  other  historical  document,  has  yet,  by  some  ac- 
cident, failed  to  attract  the  notice  to  which  it  appears 
fairly  entitled.  It  has  not  been  mentioned,  as  far  as  I 
oan  ascertain,  by  any  Anglo-Saxon  scholar,  since  it 
was  published  by  the  celebrated  Hickes,  who  dis- 
covered it  on  a  single  leaf,  bound  up  with  a  manuscript 
volume  of  Homilies,  preserved  in  the  Archiepiscopal 
Library  of  Lambeth,  and  printed  it  without  a  trans- 
lation, (which  circnmstance  may  perhaps,  in  part,  ac- 
count for  its  remaining  so  long  unnoticed)  in  the  first 
volume  of  his  Thesaurus  Linguarum  Septentrionalium. 

Although  the  poem  is  unfortunately  imperfect  both 
at  its  commencement  and  termination,  still  the  narra- 
tive contained  in  it  is,  as  far  as  it  goes,  complete.  It 
appears  to  have  been  written  in  commemoration  of  the 
successful  defence  of  the  town  or  fortress  of  Finsbo- 
rough,  garisoned  by  a  Saxon  force,  under  the  com- 
mand of  a  leader  named  Hengist,  against  the  attack 
of  some  enemy,  concerning  whose  appellation  or 
country  no  light  can  be  gained  from  the  composition 
itself. 

I  can  find  the  name  of  Finborough  preserved  only 
VOL.  IV.  T  in 


262 

in  two  places  in  this  country ;  the  one  in  Suffolk,  the 
other  in  Cheshire.  It  is  not  improbable  that  the  latter 
of  these  may  (in  some  one  of  the  predator}'  inroads 
which  the  Danes  are  known  to  have  made  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Mersey)  have  become  the  scene 
of  the  action  here  recounted.  The  first  assault  upon 
the  fortress  appears  to  have  taken  place  by  night,  and 
the  subsequent  siege  to  have  lasted  five  days;  at  the 
expiration  of  which,  the  chieftain  of  the  besieging 
party  being  wounded,  they  were  constrained  to  retreat 
witljout  effecting  their  purpose. 

The  style  in  which  the  event  is  detailed  resembles 
that  of  the  ode  rather  than  of  regular  epic  composition, 
ft  remark  which  will  apply  equally  to  many  of  the  more 
poetical  parts  of  the  reputed  Ceednjon.  The  com- 
mander of  the  besieging  army  is  represented  as  ad- 
dressing and  receiving  an  answer  from  the  leader  sta- 
tioned at  the  principal  gate  of  the  fortification,  in  a 
manner  which  may  faintly  remind  the  reader  of  some 
of  the  dialogues  which  Homer  has  occasionally  put 
into  the  mouths  of  his  contending  heroes. 

f  have  only  a  few  words  to  add  concerning  the  two 
versions  of  this  curious  relique  which  1  have  ventured 
to  submit  to  the  judgment  of  your  readers.  In  the 
former  of  these,  which  accompanies  the  original,  I 
have  adopted  the  Latin  language,  from  the  considera- 
tion that,  as  it  admitted  (like  tlie  Anglo-Saxon)  of  an 
inverted  construction  of  sentence,  it  would  enable  me 
to  translate  word  for  word,  which  I  have  endeavoured 
to  do  with  as  much  precision  as  I  was  capable  of;  and 
■to  this  object  all  attem[^  at  elesjance,  or  even  puiity 
of  style  have  of  course  been  sacrificed.  But  as  such  a 
translation,  though  it  may  present  with  sufficient  accu- 
racy the  literal  meaning,  and  even  the  characteristic 
involution  of  sentence  of  the  original,  would  still  be 
totally  inadequate  to  convey  any  notion  of  its  merits  as 
a  poetical  composition,  I  have  been  emboldened  to 
add  a  second  translation  into  English  verse,  in  this  I 
have  retained  the  whole  matter  of  the  original  without 
Hddition  or  transposition.  The  more  remarkable  ex- 
pres^ions  I  have  endeavoured,  where  they  admitted  of 
it,  to  translate  literally.  In  other  cases  the  extreme 
conciseness  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  has  rendered  it  almost 
impossible  for  me  to  present  any  intelligible  copy  of  it 

without 


263 

without  using  considerable  amplification.  If  on  the  one  hand 
the  style  has  by  this  liberty  been  rendered  more  perspicuous 
and  agreeable  to  our  received  notions  of  poetic  diction,  I  fear  that 
on  the  other  it  has  lost  by  it  much  of  the  fire  and  vigour  which 
result  from  the  abruptness  and  compression  of  the  original.  For 
all  imperfections  of  this  nature,  and  for  such  errors  as^aybe 
detected  in  the  literal  version  of  this  long-neglected  monument  of 
the  genius  and  language  of  our  forefathers,  1  have  to  request 
the  indulgence  of  your  readers.  A  few  notes  are  appended  to 
some  of  the  doubtful  passages ;  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the 
Anglo  Saxon  poetry  must  be  aware  that  its  construction  is  fre- 
quently not  a  little  obscure  and  difficult,  and  will  therefore  be 
the  more  ready  to  excuse  any  mistakes  into  which  I  mav  have 
fallen.  J.  1  C. 

P.  S.  I  have  distinguished  by  Italics  the  commencement  of 
those  syllables  by  which  the  alliterative  harmony  of  the  verse  ap- 
pears to  be  formed.  In  the  Latin  translation,  words  understood 
are  enclosed  in  brackets ;  literal  renderings,  for  which  words 
somewhat  more  intelligible  have  been  substituted  in  the  current 
text,  are  bracketted  and  printed  in  italics.  I  have  endeavoured 
upon  the  whole  to  lay  before  the  reader  a  specimen  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  ii  has  always  appeared  to  myself,  that  the  remains 
of  our  Anglo-Saxon  poets  might  be  most  advantageously  edited. 

+    -f    i"     nas  hyrnaS.  "f    f    f    accendit 

Naefre  AleotArode  Nunquam  clamavit 

Da  Aearo  jeonj  cyninj.  Exercitiis  juvenis  Rex. 

•  Ne  bis  ne  ^agaS  eastun,  Neque  elucescit  (dies)  ab  orients, 

f  Ne  herJraca  ne  fleojetS,  Nee  belli  draco  volat, 

Ne  her  J^isse  Aealle.  Nee  exercitus  Aulae 

Wbrnas  ne  byrnaS.  Pinnacula  Accendit : 

Ac  her/orthberai,  Sed  exereitus  egreditur, 

fugelas  singaS,  Volucres  cantant. 


*  The  exact  meaning  of  the  whole  of  this  first  clause  is  somewhat  obscure. 
Its  general  purport,  however,  appears  to  be  either  that  no  warlike  demonstra- 
tions were  made  during  the  daytime,  or  that  the  army,  while  preparing  for 
and  marching  to  its  nocturnal  attack,  (the  sun  not  having  yet  appeared  in  the 
cast)  proceeded  at  first  silently  and  without  violence. 

f  The  metaphor,  by  which  the  arrow  is  described  in  this  line,  may  remind 
the  classical  reader  of  a  similar  expression  in  the  splendid  passage  which 
i^schylus  has  put  into  the  mouth  of  Apollo  in  his  Eumemcfes: 

\  In  this  and  in  all  other  places  where  the  article  does  ijot  appear  to  be 
properly  cUmonstrative,  I  have  omitted  to  translate  it. 

X  9  Cyllc5 


264 


CyWe^  grxihirca, 
Cod-wiidu  hlynnc*, 
Scy\(i  jfcfte  *oncwyd, 
^u  srynct  tbcs  Mona 
^a«ol  under  wolcnuni. 
Nu  arisatb  -a-ea-d.-cda, 
De  bisneyblces  niS 
fremnian  willaiS. 
Ac  onwacnijea*  nu 
^igend  mine, 
i/abbath  eowre  landa, 
//ie  geatb  on  ellen, 
/TindatS  on  orde, 
^esaS  on  mode. 
Da  arras  maenis 
Coldhladen  Segn, 
Oyrde  hine  his  swurde. 
Da  to  ^ura  eodon 
/>rihtlice  cempan 
^ij;efei-o  Si  Ealia, 
Hjra  s'Luurd  jetugon, 
And  ast  othrum  durum 
Ordlaf  &  Gu«Iaf, 
And  Hengest  sylfe 
//wearf  him  on  la»te. 

Da  gyt  Garulf 

Guthere  styrode, 

Thast  he  swa/reolic/eorh 

forman  sitSe 

To  thacre  ;&ealle  durum. 

//yrsta  ne  baeran. 

f  Nu  hyt  niiSa  heard 

An^  man  wolde. 

Ac  he  fraejn  ofer  eal 

Undeaminga 

jDcormod  ha:led, 

Hwatha  <5ura  heolde. 

"  Jigeferth  is  min  nama,  ewe?  he, 

"  Ic  eom  i'ccjena  leod 

*'  §  /frccten  luide  cud. 


Strepit  cicada. 
Belli  trabs  resonat, 
Clypeo  cuspis  alliditur. 
Nunc  fuiget  Luna 
Errans  sub  nubibus. 
Nunc  surgunt  dolorisacta 
Qua:  hujus  populi  inimicitia 
Pcrficere  debet. 
Sed  expergiscitur  nunc 
Bellalor  meus, 
Habet  nostram  terram, 
Alte  gradditur  in  virtute 
Vcrsatur  in  principatu. 
Sapiens  est  in  consilio. 
Tunc  surgebat  plurimus 
Auro  ornatus  Ductor, 
Accinxit  sibi  gladium. 
Tunc  ad  fores  ibant 
Nobiles  Bellatores 
Sigeferth  &  Eaha, 
Sibi  gladium  accinxerunt, 
Et  .id  alias  portas 

Ordlaf  ScGuthlaf, 

Et  Hengist  ipse 
Ferebat  se  gressu. 

Tunc  etiani  Garulfus 

Gutherum  excitabat, 

(Ita)  ut  ille  adeo  fromptus  irct 

Primo  tempore  (iSf  vel  prima  in  loco)  • 

Ad  Aulae  portas. 

Ornamenta  non  gerebant. 

Nunc  (dicere)  hoc  pra:lium  grave 

Quispiam  vellet. 

Sed  ille  rogabat  super  omnes 

Elata  voce  (palam) 

A  mat  us  (cams  animi)  Dux 

Q^iis  portam  teneret. 

"  Sigeferth  est  m;hi  nomen  (inquit) 

*'  Ego  sum  Saxonici  populi 

"  Defensor  late  not  us.  ' 


•  This  word  I  apprehend  to  be  compounded  of  on.  super,  &  cwedan.  dicere. 
•onare.     It  will  then  mean  sounds  upon. 
':     f  I  have  ventured  to  supply  the  word  dicere,  in  the  Latin,  and  to  give  the 
passage  a  turn  somewhat  different  in  the  English  translation.     Possibly  I  may 
have  been  mistaken  in  both. 

+   I  have  both  here  and  in  the  English  considered  the  word  Deormod  merely 
J.«B  an  epithet.     If  it  be  a  proper  name,  answering  to  the  modern  Dermot,  it 
iiinay  afford  some  grounds  for  the  supposition  that  the  aggressors  were  Danes 
from  Ireland. 

§  This   word  does  not  occur  in  Lye's  Dictionary,     It  probably  signifies 

(hampion,  from  wrxcan.  exerceredefendere.    Weuna,  in  the  next  line,  is  in  the 

~  ijme  predicament.     I  have  supposed  rt  to  be  derived  from  the  same  root  with 

winnan  &  wonian  laborare  dehcere. 
•;  "Faela 


265 


♦'  Fxla.  ic  lueuna  gebad 

"  //eordra  >^ilda. 

"  *  De  is  gyt  ^ierwitod 

"  f  j'wasther  thu  jylfe  to  me 

"  j'ecean  wylle  ?" 

Tha  waes  on  healle 

Wael-slihta  jehlyn, 

Sceolde-cela;s-bortS 

Henumon  handa, 

^anhelm  ^erstan, 

i'uru*elu  dynede. 

0«  aet  thasr  Gu«e 

Garulf  jecrang, 

falra-frest 

£orth  buendra, 

Cufclafes  sunu. 

Ymbe  hyne  ^odra  fsla 

Hwearflacra  /mer. 

Hrxfen  wandrode 

iSweart  &  i'ealo  brun. 

5'weord  leoma  jtod, 

Swylce  eal  f insburuh 

fyrenu  wasre. 

A'ie  gefraegn  ic 

Nxite  luurthlicor 

^t  li-'era  hilde. 

i^ixtig  jijebeorna. 

Se\  X  jebae  ran 

Ne  netre  swa  noc  hwitne  medo 

Sel  forgyldan. 

Thonne  Anasf  guldan, 

His  ^xjstealdas, 

Hijyuhton  /if  dasas, 

Swa  hyra  nan  neyeol 

DrihtsesitSa. 

Ac  hij  nu  </uru  heoldon. 

Da  jetuat  him  §  luund  haeleth 

On  'luasj  gangan, 

Saede  tlieet  his  ^yrne 

A/rocen  waere 

II  Were  sceorpum  hror. 

And  eac  wjes  his  ^elm  th^rl. 


nV 


"  Multos  ego  labores  pertuli 

"  Difficilium  prceliorum, 

"  Hoc  est  adhuccxercitui  notum 

"Tune  ipse  me 

Qnaerere  cupis  ? 

Tunc  fuit  in  aula  , 

33ellicsE  stragis  tumuitus.  '    , 

Clypei  concavi  lignum 

Arripiebant  manibus. 

Ossa  cranii  (galea;)  findebant. 

Arcis  tecta  resonabant. 

Donee  in  bello 

Garulfus  occidit. 

Omnium  excellentissimus 

Terram  incolentium , 

Guthlafri  filius. 

Circa  ilium  fortes  multi  . 

Caduci  moriebantur. 

Corvus  vagabatur 

Niger  &  salicis  instar  fuscus 

Giadii  coruscatio  constitit 

Tanquam  omnis  Finsburga 

Accensa  esset. 

Non  audivi  ego 

Unqiiam  spectabiliorem 

In  bello  pugnam. 

Sexaginta  victoriae  filii 

Pro  aul&  stabant 

Nunquam  adeo  ulla  ex  parte  medi 

Aulam  (ut)  traderent. 

Tunc  juvenes  auro  ornati. 

Ejus  (scil:  Hengisti)  primarii, 

Pugnabant  septem  dies, 

Ita  ut  eorum  nemo  caderet 

Principis-sociorum. 

Sed  illi  adhuc  portam  tenebant. 

Tunc  accingebat  se  vulneratus  Dux 

In  fugam  (•viam)  recipere. 

Dixit  quod  ejus  lorica 

Fracta  erat 

Exercitus  acutis  (telis)  caduca 

£t  etiam  erat  ejus  galea  penetrata. 


*  I  am  by  no  means  certain  that  my  translation  of  this  line  is  correct, 
t  The  word  seccan  here  is  somewhat  ambiguous ;  it  may  signify  either  to 
attack,  or  to  yield  to. 

X  From  jebeorgan  servare.  I  am  uncertain  as  to  the  exact  construction, 
though  not  as  to  the  general  purport  of  the  next  line. 

§  This  is  given  by  Lye  as  the  participle  of  Wundan,  to  wound.  It  appears 
rather  to  be  the  participle  of  Wunian,  Languore  affici,  from  which  the  secondary- 
verb  Wundan  is  derived. 

The  construction  of  this  line  is  somewhat  obscure. 

Tha 


2^6 

Tha  hine  sona/rffjn,  Tunc  ill!  cito  quaerebant 

Jokes  hyrde  Populi  pastorem 

Hu  thaouisend  hyra  Quomodo  tunc  ducem  suum 

/iTunda  ^enseson.  Vulneribiis  levarent. 

0**e  hwoetber  dara  byssa  Aut  ubi  sua  f  f  f 

**  The  Fight  of  Finsburg. 

"  The  sun  had  climb'd  the  eastern  sky— 
'  But  not  by  day  the  youthtul  band 

May  hear  their  leaders  battle  cry. 

Nor  yet,  on  Finsburg's  fatal  strand. 
The  warrior's  winged  serpent  fly : 

Pauses  from  blood  the  foeman's  hand. 
Nor  strives  he  yet  to  fire  yon  halls  proud  canopy. 

Sweetly  sung  the  birds  of  night. 

The  wakefuJ  cricket  chirrup'd  loud. 
And  now  the  moon,  serenely  bright. 

Was  seen  beneath -the  wandering  cloud. 
Then  rous'd  him  swift  our  deadly  foe. 
To  deeds  of  daughter  and  of  woe. 
Now  beneath  the  jav'lin's  stroke 

The  buckler's  massy  circle  rung. 
Anon  the  chains  of  slumber  broke 

Our  cbirftain  great  and  good. 
He  whose  high  praise  fills  ev'ry  tongue, 

"First  in  valour  as  in  'blood. 
The  matchless  Hengist  to  the  battle  wpke. 


Uprose  in  tliat  eventful  tide 
Full  many  a  warrior  brave. 
And  don'd  his  armor's  golden  pride, 

And  girt  his  glittening  glaive. 
Al  the  high  halls  portal  wide, 
Foremost  of  the  ndble  band, 
Sigvart  and  JEhvi  proudly  stand. 
Where  other  pass  the  foe  might  find, 
Ordlaf  watch'd  with  Guthlaf  join'd. 
Garulf  next  with  fiery  speed 
Rous'd  Guthere  from  the  slumb'rer's  bed. 
No  care  of  dress  iheir  steps  delay'd. 
Each  grasp'd  in  haste  his  shining  blade. 
And  tierce  the  brother  warriors  flew 
To  guard  the  hall's  high  avenue. 
He  that  prides  him  in  tke  fight. 
Had  joy'Jd  to  see  that  gallant  sight. 


And  now  in  accents  loud 
Our  foeman's  chieftain  bold  and  proud 
Sought,  what  Thane  or  Battle  Lord 
At  the  high  gate  kept  watch  and  ward. 
**  Sigvart  is  here"  (the  champion  cried^) 
**  Sigvart  oft  in  battle  tried, 
"  Known  to  all  the  warrior  train 
"  Where  spreads  the  Saxon's  wide  domain. 
"  Now,  chieftain,  turn  thee  to  the  light, 
"  Or  yield  thee  to  the  Saxon  might." 

Soon  the  tented  halls  among 
Loud  the  din  of  slaughter  rung. 
Closer  now  each  hostile  band 
Grasps  the  shield  with  eager  hand, 
And  many  a  chief  is  doom'd  to  feel 
Thro'  helm  and  head  the  griding  steel. 
First  in  that  disastrous  plain 
Guthlafs  valiant  son  was  slain. 
Where  Garulf  lies  untimely  dead 
Many  a  fated  hero  bled. 

There  to  seek  his  destin'd  food. 
The  dark  and  willow  pinion'd  raven  stood  ; 

And  far  around  that  field  of  blood 
The  sword's  dread  radiance  beam'd  to  heav'n. 

Jt  seem'd  as  though  that  morn  had  giv'n 
All  Finsburgh  to  the  rav'ning  flame. 
Ne'er  heard  I  yet  of  fight  might  claim 
A  nobler  or  a  sadder  name. 


At  the  high  hall  a  chosen  band. 

Leaders  brave  that  shine  afar. 
Full  sixty  sons  of  vict'ry  stand 

In  all  the  golden  pomp  of  war : 
Little  think  they  to  forego 
The  hall  of  Mead  for  that  proud  foe. 

Five  live-long  days  the  battle's  sound 

Was  heard  by  Finsburg's  earth-rais'd  mound. 

Yet  undiminished  and  unquell'd 

That  hero  band  the  portal  held. 

Till  bleeding  from  the  Saxon  blade. 

Our  foeman's  lord  his  fear  betray'd. 
And  told,  in  accents  of  despair. 
How  broken  helm  and  corslet  reft 
Defenceless  to  the  stroke  had  left 

His  head  and  bosom  bare. 
Then  sought  the  vanquish'd  foe  relief 
And  safeity  for  their  wounded  chief. 

Finis."  Amp. 


J 

IF  jFracmemiS  of  a  fxtntf)  ^etriral  5llomnutf 
upon  dDup  €arl  of  OTaitoitfe* 

The  annexed  fragments  of  a  French  Metrical  Ro- 
mance on  the  subject  of  Guy  Earl  of  Warwick,  were 
discovered  on  a  half  sheet  of  parchment,  which  had 
been  used  as  a  fly-leaf  to  a  life  of  Thomas  a  Becket, 
printed  early  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  preserved 
in  the  Bodleian  Library.  They  will  aflord  sufficient 
proof  that  whether  or  no  the  story  be  (as  Mr.  Ellis  has 
ingeniously  suspected)  of  Saxon  origin,  its  more 
modern  relators  were  indebted  for  a  part  at  least  of  its 
incidents  to  a  French  Minstrel  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury. * 

It  was  possibly  a  copy  of  this  Romance  which 
formed  the  article  entitled  '*  Une  Volum  del  Romaunce 
de  Gwy  &  de  la  Reygne,"  in  the  collection  of  books 
bequeathed  by  Guy  Beauchamp,  Earl  of  Warwick,  to 
the  monastery  of  Bordeslye.  + 

C. 
No  I. 

En  la  sale  par  devant  li 

Re  Dieu  garist  son  seigneurs  Guy. 

De  tel  beuve  &  de  tel  manger 

Cum  ele  soleit  user, 

A  une  fe  quant  ele  mangoit, 

Les  XIII  Poores  demandoit, 

E  home  tost  les  amena. 

En  X  heir  devant  li  assisles  a, 

Guy  un  des  xiii  estoit. 

Mult  dote  kil  conn  seit. 

La  Contesse  les  ad  agarde, 

Porcco 

t  t  t  In  the  hall  before  her  that  God  might  preserve  her 
Lord  Guy.  When  she  ate  (in  public)  on  festivals,  she  asked 
these  twelve  paupers  to  share  such  drink  and  viands  as  she  was 
herself  accustomed  to  use,  and  men  speedily  brought  them  to  her. 

In she  has  placed  them  before  her.     Guy  was  one  of  the 

twelve.    He   fears    much   lest   he  should    be  recognized — The 

Countess 


•  This  seems  the  latest  date  which  the  style  of  the  fragment 
will  permit  us  to  assign  for  its  composition. 

f  See  this  curious  bequest  in  Mr.   Todd's  Illustrations  of 
Chaucer,  p.  i6i. 

X  This  word  is  not  to  be  found  in  Roquefot. 


269 

Porceo  k'il  est  plus  meseis^ 
De  li  en  prist  grant  pite'. 
Checon  nies  dunt  ale  manga 
A  eel  Pelerin  enveia, 
De  son  vin  &  de  son  Mie".  * 
En  riches  coupes  de  or  taile. 
Par  nn  f  g~iant  I'ad  mande 
Ke  il  remeine  en  la  cite, 
Checon  jor  a  la  cair  venist, 
J  Assee  viande,  av'eit  cev  dist. 
E  il  en  ad  mult  mercie, 
Mes  tut  ad  il  en  sun  pense, 
Kant  la  cuntasse  out  mang6, 
E  la  table  fu  leve. 
Mult  tost  de  la  sale  Guy  sen  ist, 
Hors  de  la  cite  tost  se  mist. 
En  vers  Ardene  dreit  ala. 
Un  seint  home  ke  il  conua, 
Ke  en  la  forest  maneit. 
Cele  past  ala  tut  dreite. 
Kant  il  vint  al  hermitage." 

No.  2. 

"  Atant  est  venuz  Colebrant 
Ki  tant  est  corsu  §  &  grant. 

Que 

Countess  viewed  them,  and  because  he  appeared  the  most  unfortu- 
nate object  among  them,  she  took  great  pity  upon  him.  She  sent 
to  that  pilgrim  ot  every  meat  that  she  ate  herself,  of  her  wine  and 
her  Malmsey  in  rich  goblets  of  carved  gold.     She  comr/ianded 

him  by  a that  he  should  remain  in  the  city,  and  come 

every  day  to  court  to  her  repast.  She  said  this  and  Guy  greatly 
thanked  her,  but  much  had  he  in  his  thoughts.  When  the 
Countess  had  feasted  and  the  tables  were  broken  up,  he  quickly 
departed  from  the  hall,  conveyed  himself  out  of  the  city,  and  went 
straight  to  Arden,  seeking  an  holy  man  whom  he  well  knew,  and 
who  dwelt  in  that  forest.  He  directly  sought  that  quarter,  and 
when  he  came  to  the  hermitage 

tttttttt4- 

In  the  mean  time  Colebrant  approached,  who  was  so  unwieldy 

and 

*   I  know  not  what   this   abbreviation   stands   for.     It  may  be 
Malvoisie,  and  I  have  ventured  so  to  render  ir. 

f  This  word  is  unintelligible  to  me. 
X  For  a  ses  viandes  ? 
§  The  word  corsu  is  not  to  be  found  in  Roquefort :  if  it  be  de- 
rived from  cars,  a  bcdj,  it  may  signify,  as  I  have  ventured  to  render 
it,  un'vcieldy  or  corpulent.  The  reader  of  early  French  MSS.  will 
soon  discover  that  even  the  dictionary  of  Roquefort,  copious  and 
excellent  as  it  is,  will  not  unfrequently  fail  or  disappoint  him. 


370 

Que  nul  cheyal  ne  1  peut  porter, 
De  li  ne  les  armes  sustener. 
A  pe  tut  dis  combaterent. 
En  bataille  cheval  ne  guerreit, 
Kar  tant  de  man's  armes  avoit 
Ke  a  peine  un  char  les  aportereit. 
Mult  estoit  Colehrant  corsu, 
Un  haubert  avoit  vestu, 
Nert  pas  haubert  maile. 
Tut  autrement  fut  forg^ 
Dft  gros  esplentes  ^'e  asser 
Jointz  esent  pour  son  cors  garder, 
E  devant  &  derrre 
Jointz  erent  de'splentes  d  assere, 
Le  cors  covercnt  &  braz  &  poigns. 
Chances  out  de  tel  fason, 
Ke  ni  out  si  esplente  non. 
Heume  out  bon  fort  &  fer, 
Ne  dote  cop  de  branc  d'  assere. 
Al  Col  li  pent  un  targe  ronde, 
N'ad  plus  fort  en  tout  le  monde. 
Tut  de  fer  &  d'  asser  lisle." 

and  large,  that  no  horse  could  carry  him  or  sustain  the  weight  of 
his  armour.  Both  fought  on  foot;  he  sought  not  a  horse  for  their 
combat,  for  he  had  such  a  weight  of  heavy  armour  that  a  cha;  iot 
would  scarcely  have  borne  it.  Colbrand  was  most  unwiejdy;  he 
had  armed  himself  in  a  hauberk  not  of  mail ;  far  differently  was  it 
forged.  Great  splints  of  steel  were  joined  together  to  defend  bis 
body  both  before  and  behind }  they  covered  his  hody,  his  a  ms, 
and  his  hands.  He  had  cuisses  of  such  a  fashion,  thai  there  nvas  ne 
ipUnt  in  them.  He  had  a  helm  good,  stout,  and  hard  as  iron.  He 
feared  not  the  stroke  of  the  steeled  blade — At  his  neck  hung  a 
round  shield.  There  was  none  stronger  in  the  whole  world  ;  it 
was  entirely  made  of  iron  and  polished  steel. 


IF  £)f  (!3entplne0  ^  tiobplpte.  a  tpaloge 
facttoen  tfie  marcfiaift,  tge  feupg^t  *  tge 
plotoman,  iip0putpng  \»]bo  i0  a  teip  gentpl^ 
man,  ^  toga  i0  a  noble  man,  and  jhoto  men 
05ulti  come  to  auctoipte,  compilin  in  maner 
of  an  enteiluHe  Xoith  Otucrsi  top0  $  gc0ti0 
aUDet)  tgerto  to  mabe  merp  {)a0t{ime  anH  tii0< 
pott. 

Of  the   author,    some  account  will   be  found   in 
Jtheme  OxoniemeSj  Vol.  I.  Col.  348,  edit.  4to.     One 

of 


271 

of  his  other  productions  has  been  noticed  in  a  formed 
number.* 

The  merchant  enters  first,  and  with  great  self-com- 
placency exclaims :  '^ 

*'  O  what  a  gret  welth  and  prosperyte 
Jt  is  to  any  reme  where  marchauntes  be, 
Haujmg  fre  lyberte  anal  entercours  also 
All  marchaundyse  to  couey  to  and  fro, 
Whych  thyng  I  haue  vsyd,  &  the  verey  fet  found. 
And  thereby  gotten  many  a  thousand  powndj 
^.        Wberfore  now  be  cause  of  my  grete  ryches. 
Thorough  owt  this  land  in  euery  place  doutles 
I  am  magnyfycd  &  gretly  regardyd. 
And  for  a  wyse  and  noble  man  estemyd." 

He  is  thus  replied  to  by  the  knight; 

"  Maister  marchaunt,  I  here  you  ryght  well, 
But  now  in  presnmpsion  me  thynk  ye  excell, 
To  call  your  self  noble  in  presence  here  : 
I  wys  men  know  what  your  auncestours  were. 
And  of  what  grete  stok  descendid  ye  be; 
Your  fadyr  was  but  a  blake  smyth,  perde  !  " 

The  merchant,  naturally  enough,  inquires, 

"  Why,  Sir,  what  than  ?  what  be  you  I  pray  you  ? 
Knight."  Mary,  I  am  a  gentylraan,  I  wold  ye  knew. 
And  may  dyspend  yerely,  V.  C.  mark  land. 
And  I  am  sure  all  that  ye  haue  in  hand 
Of  yerely  rent,  is  not  worth.  V.  markys. 

True,  says  the  merchant,  but  I  am  able  to  buy  all 
your  land,  and  pay  for  it  immediately  with  money 
gained  by  my  own  industry. 

Knight."  Yet  art  thou  but  a  chorle,  and  I  haue  skorn 

Thou  shuldist  compare  with  me  a  gentylman  born. 
Merck.    Why  what  callyst  thou  a  gentylman,  tel  me  ? 
Knight.  Mary  I  call  rhem  gentylmen  that  be 
Born  to  grete  landys  by  inherytaunce. 
As  niyij  auncestours  by  co'^tynnuunce, 
Haue  had  this.  V,  C  yere,  of  whom  now  I 
Am  descendid,  and  commyn  lynyally, 
Beryng  the  same  name  and  armys  also 
That  tliey  teire  this.  V.  C.  yere  agoo. 
Myn  auncestours  also  haue  euer  be 
Lord)S,  knyghtes,  and  in  grete  auctoryte, 
Capteyns  in  the  warr,  and  gouerners. 
And  also  in  tyroe  of  pease  gret  rulers. 

4*i'»w  ,i>?iui?i^  Vol.  IV.  p.  ii8. 

And 


272 

And  tbyn  were  neuer  but  aiJyfycers,,,  ^^^jo  «i»i  W 

As  smyths,  masons^  carpenters  or  wcuars.V  ,  ^^  ^^ 

The  merchant  replies,  that  although  all  this  raayte 
true,  his  ancestors  have  assisted  in  building  houses, 
framing  tools,  and  performing  other  necessary  offices 
for  the  knight's  family,  and,  on  this  account,  are  en- 
titled to  praise  and  respect.  In  the  midst  of  their 
conversation  they  are  interrupted  by  another  person- 
age; since,  according  to  the  stage  direction, 

**  Here  the  plouman  comilh  in  with  a  short  whyp  in  hys 
hand,  and  spekyth  as  foloKith. 

"  Now  here  is  bybbyll  babbyll,  clatter  clatter  I 
I  hard  neuer  of  so  folysh  a  matter. 
But,  by  goddy's  body,  to  speke  the  troth, 
I  am  better  than  other  of  you  both." 

Both  the  merchant  and  the  knight  agree  .ih?  repre- 
hending this  boldness,  and  seem  disposed  to  pay  very 
little  attention  to  the  plowman's  claim.  After  some 
harsh  words  on  all  sides,  for  the  knight  calls  the  plow- 
man a  "  kankerde  chorle,"  and  the  merchant  terms 
liim  a  "  lewyd  vyllayn  and  rude  raskall,"  which  the 
countryman  retorts  with  "  folysh  peuysh  daw,"  and 
*' jak-heryng,"  the  knight  threatens  to  lay  his 
sword  on  the  pate  of  his  antagonist  if  he  does  not  make 
a  hasty  retreat.  The  courage  of  honest  Clod  cannot 
bear  this,  and  he  falls*  on  them  both  so  lustily  that 
they  soon  cry  out  for  quarter.  When  peace  is  again 
restored,  the  merchant  relates  the  cause  of  the  con- 
troversy, and  the  plowman  gives  it  as  his  opinion,  that 
since  neither  of  them  have  adduced  any  of  their  own 
deeds,  but  those  only  of  their  ancestors,  as  proofs  of 
their  claim,  they  are  neither  entitled  to  the  honorable 
distinction  of  "  nobleness."  But,  says  the  knight,  I 
have  some  claim  from  my  own  deserts, 

"  For  I  am  &  haue  ben  one  of  the  cheualry 
At  ihe  com~aundement  of  my  prynce  euer  redy. 
And  euery  tyme  of  warr  haue  be  captayn 
And  leder  of  a.  M.  men  or  twayne. 
And  w»  hors  &  harnes  f  spere  and  sheld 
Haue  jop~dyd  |  my  body  in  euery  felde 

•  *'  Et  verberat  eos,^''  says  the  stage  direction.     In  fact,  all  the 
mcry  pastyme  and  disportc  seems  to  consist  entirely  in  the  good 
drubbings  bestowed  by  the  enraged  plowman  on  his  adversaries. 
t  Armour.  X  Jeopardxcd,  clothed,  covered. 

The 


^     273 

99Aiir[t  .    The  rentes  of  my  landys  haue  speude  lyberally, 
And. kept  a  grete  house  contynually  : 
And  help  to  ponysh  tlieuys  &  brybers  alwey 
To  the  grete  tianquylyte  of  my  contray. 
And  you,  maister  marchaiff,  wyl  neuer  take  labour 
Except  it  be  for  your  p~tFct  and  luconre." 

The  merchant  next  contends  for  the  honour  of  his 
profession,  without  the  assistance  of  which,  he  says,  it 
would  be  impossible  for  the  natives  of  England  to  pro- 
cure the  necessaries  and  comforts  of  life. 

"  And  I  spende  my  studi  &  labour  contynually. 
And  cause  such  thyngis  to  come  hyder  dayly. 
For  the  comfort  of  thj's  land  &  com~en  welth. 
And  to  all  the  people  grete  p'^lTet  He  helth. 
And  for  such  noble  dcdys  reason  wyll  than  ; 
That  I  ought  to  be  callyd  a  noble  man."       ' 

The  plowman  now  asks  the  rivals  what  creature  is 
the  most  noble  in  the  universe?  and  they  both  agree, 
of  course,  that  the  Deity  is,  because  he  needs  no  assist- 
ance from  any  other  person,  whereas  his  aid  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  ever}'^  thing  on  the  earth.  Well 
then,  says  the  plowman,  then  by  like  reasoning  I  must 
be  much  more  noble  than  either  of  you,  for  I  till  my 
land,  raise  my  food,  shear  my  sheep,  brew  my  beer, 
and,  in  short,  want  nothing  of  any  person  for  my  sub- 
sistence. Besides,  1  am  alwaj'^s  employed,  and  there- 
fore always  cheerful;  I  have  all  I  want  that  is  needful 
for  my  support,  and  with  that  [  am  content. 

"  And  to  desyre  no  more  than  is  neJefull, 
That  is  in  this  worlde  the  lyf  most  ioyfull ; 
Which  lyfe  in  this  worlde  no  man  shall  acquire 
Tyll  he  subdue  his  insaciat  desyre." 

The  three  competitors  now  take  leave  of  each  other, 
after  engaging  to  meet  in  the  same  place  in  a  short 
time.     'I'he  merchant  takes  leave  of  the  audience, 

"  And  in  the  raeayn  wyle,  good  lord,  of  thy  grace 
Preserue  all  the  people  here  in  this  place. 
Amen. 
Finis  prime  partis." 

The  second  part  is  so  similar  to  the  first,  that  an 
analysis  of  it  seems  perfectly  unnecessary.  The  three 
characters  meet,  dispute,  grow  warm,  fight,  are  parted, 
and,  at  length,  quit  the  stage^  without  either  having 

converted 


274 

converted  his  adversary.  A  new  persdonage  tlien  makes 
his  appearance,  and  concludes  the  drama. 

"  The  Philosopher. 

"  Ye  soferaynsall,  dyscrete  &  excellent. 
Before  whom  thys  dyalog  shewyd  hadi  be 
Touchyng.  iij.  poynts  by  wey  of  argument 
Furst  what  is  gentylnes  &  what  nobylyte 
And  who  shuld  be  chose  to  hye  auctoryte 
Thys  questyouns  thc)  be  so  hye  &  sot  tell 
Few  dare  p^sume  to  dyffyne  them  well. 

.  Yft  I  thynk  now  vnder  your  correccyons 
The  thyng  that  makyth  a  gentyiman  to  be 
Yb  but  vertew  &  gentyll  condycyons 
Whych  as  well  in  pore  men  oft  tymys  we  s« 
As  in  men  of  grtte  byrlh  or  hye  degre 
And  also  vycioiis  &  churlyssh  co'^dycyons 
Maybe  in  men  born  to  gretc  possessyons. 

And  forther  as  touchyng  nobylyte 

Y«t  standyth  much  p~t  I  thynk  doutles 

In  suffycyencye  reason  doth  agre 

But  that  suffysaunce  makyng  noblenes 

Must  nedys  be  a""nexid  vnto  goodnes 

For  sufFysauns  is  not  the  cause  pryncypall 

That  god  his  noble,  but  hys  goodness  wythali 

So  vertue  is  euer  the  thyng  pryncypall 
That  gentylnes  &  noblenes  doth  insue 
Then  these  hedys,  rulers  &  gouernours  all 
Should  come  therto  because  of  theyr  vertue 
And  in  auctoryte  they  ought  not  contynue 
Except  they  be  good  men  dyscrete  &  wyse 
And  haue  a  loue  &  zele  vnto  Justyce. 

Wherforc  souereyns,  all  that  here  present  be 

Now  marke  well  these  reasons  here  brought  in 

Both  agayns  men  of  hye  &  of  low  degre 

For  this  intent  only  to  rebuke syn 

For  the  best  wey  that  is  for  one  to  be  gyn 

To  co'"u^rt  the  prople  by  exortacyon 

Ys  to  p'swade  them  by  naturall  reason 

For  when  thnt  a  man  by  hys  owne  reason 

Jnggyth  hym  .selfe  for  to  offend 

That  grndgyth  his  ci7scycns  &  gyffyth  co'puncyon 

Jnto  hys  herte  to  cause  hym  amend 

But  &uch  biynd  bests  that  wyl  not  intend 

'16 


575 

To  here  no  good  councell  nor  reason 

Ought  by  the  law  to  haue  sharp  coreccyon  .^ 

But  then  yf  the  laws  be  not  suffycyent 
Whych  have  be  made  &  ordeynyd  before 
To  gyfe  tber  fore  co~dygne  ponyshment 
The  pryncys  &  gonernours  be  bound  euermore 
To  cause  new  laws  to  be  made  therfore 
And  to  put  such  men  in  auctoryte 
That  good  men  just  &  indyfferent  be 

But  because  that  men  of  nature  euermore 
Be  frayle  &  folowyng  sensualyte 
Yt  is  impossyble  in  a  maner  therfore 
For  any  gouernours  that  be  in  auctoryte 
At  all  tymys  just  &  indyfferent  to  be 
Except  they  be  brydelyd  &  therto  compellyd 
By  some  strayt  laws  for  them  deuysyd 

As  thus,  that  no  man  such  rome  ocupye. 
But  certayn  yerys,  &  than  to  be  remouyd. 
Yet  that  whyle,  bound  to  attend  dylygently. 
And  yf  he  offend  &  surely  prouyd 
Wyth  out  any  fauour  that  he  be  ponyhysshyd 
For  the  ponysshment  of  a  juge  or  offycer 
Doth  more  good  than  of  thousand  other 

And  vntyll  that  such  orders  be  deuysed 
Substauncyally,  and  put  in  execucyon 
Lokt  neucr  to  see  the  world  amended 
Nor  of  the  gret  myschefes  the  reformacion 
But  they  that  be  bounde  to  see  the  thyngsdone 
I  pray  God,  of  his  grace  put  in  thcyr  myndys 
To  reforme  shortly  suche  thynges  amys. 

And  though  that  I  myselfc  now  p'case 

Thus  myn  oppynyon  haue  publysshed 

Or  any  of  my  felowes  here  in  this  place 

In  any  poynt  here  haue  vs  abused 

V\  e  beseche  you  to  holde  vs  excused 

And  sn  the  auctour  hereof  requyreth  you  all. 

And  thus  I  co""myt  you  to  god  eternai. 

AMEN. 
Jobe*?  rastell  me  fieri  fecit 

Cum  priuilcgio  regaii." 

The  volume  is  in  small  folio,  without  date,  contain- 
ing three  sheets  ;  the  signatures  extending  to  C  iv. 

P.  B. 
Art. 


276 


^  The  true  Effigies  of  the  German  Giant,  now  to  be 
seen  at  the  Swan  near  Charing-Cross,  zchose  stature 
is  nine  foot  and  a  half  in  height,  and  the  span  of 
his  hand  a  cubit  compleat.  He  goes  from  place  to 
place  Kith  his  wife,  who  is  but  of  an  ordinary 
stature,  and  takes  money  for  the  show  of  her  hus- 
band. 

On  a  folio  broadside,  vvitr.  an  engraving  on  copper, 
ten  inches  by  seven,  representing  the  German  Giant, 
with  his  wife  on  one  side  holding  by  her  husband's 
liand  ;  on  the  other,  a  gentleman,  probably  a  specta- 
tor, whose  arm  the  giant  is  spanning.  His  thumb  and 
finger  reaching  from  the  point  of  the  gentleman's  ex- 
tended forefinger,  to  the  bend  of  the  arm.  The  etch- 
ing resembles  Hollar's  coarsest  style. 

"  It  from  tradition  hath  of  old  been  se'd 
This  isle  by  gyants  was  inhabited. 
Who  wiih  an  oak  in  band,  would  walk  as  free 
As  once  *  Silvanus  with  a  cypreM  tree  : 
And  hence  'tis  like,  that  first  of  all  'twas  spoke 
This  hardy  nation  had  their  hearts  of  oak  : 
Arms  lent  by  nature,  and  throughout  the  land 
The  oak  complying  with  the  gyant's  hand. 
Fit  for  their  hand,  and  not  without  desert. 
The  oak  complying  with  the  gyant's  heart. 
Yet  though  this  island  better  fenced  stood 
Wiib  walls  of  oak,  than  gyantean  blood  ; 
With  walls  whose  tops  and  bottoms  do  disdain 
All  opposition  from  the  roaring  main  ; 
Yet  it  must  not  in  honor  be  deny'd. 
That  gyants  first  did  hi  this  isle  reside  : 
^tnean  brothers  whose  bold  heads  aloft 
The  tops  of  hills  and  clouds  beneath  them  scoft; 
Such,  by  the  labells  both  of  Tame  and  Fate, 
Was  by  the  dread  hand  of  mighty  Askepate, 
Who  neer  Southampton,  a  full  mile,  had  strength 
To  throw  a  mill-stone  on  his  foot  at  length  : 
So  vast  a  stone  upon  his  foot  below 
Scem'd  but  a  corn  upon  the  gyant's  toe : 

•  "  Et  tencram  ab  radice  fercns  Silvane  cupressum." 

ViRG.  Geor.  I. 

The 


277 

The  place  to  this  day  to  be  seen,  doth  tell 
Where  this  was  done  and  where  the  mill-ston«  fell. 
And  such  stout  Corovaus  was,  from  whom 
Cornwal's  first  honor,  and  her  name  doth  come. 
For  though  he  showeth  not  so  great,  nor  tall 
In  his  dimensions  set  forth  at  Guild-hall, 
Know,  'tis  a  poet  onely  can  define, 
A  gyant's  posture  in  a  gyant's  line. 
The  art  falls  short  of  nature,  and  must  err 
When  rules  are  given  her  by  the  carpenter. 
Who  ought  not  bulks  uncircumscrib'd  to  draw. 
By  the  small  compass  of  his  own  scant  law  j 
And  thus  attended  with  his  direful  dog. 
The  gyant  was  (God  bless  us)  Gogmagog. 
And  he  who  (fear'd  by  his  prodigious  fame) 
Not  long  since  kept  the  gates  of  Nottingham  j 
And  many  others  who  have  left  to  all 
Succeeding  times,  their  proud  memorial. 
And  though  that  nature  now  more  spent  and  old. 
Doth  in  such  off  springs  grow  more  weak  &  cold  ; 
Yet  some  remainders  to  this  day  are  seen. 
Of  what  we  finde  she  heretofore  hath  been  :  >     « 

Witness  this  gyant,  who  not  long  ago 
Was  seen  in  Ipswich  at  a  publick  sho^y ; 
And  though  no  native,  yet  his  birth  must  be 
Fam'd  as  his  countrey  is  of  Germany. 
Poor  Germany  who  now  the  Turks  to  raunt 
Many  more  gyants  like  himself  doth  want. 
To  see  him  hundreds  day  by  day  do  throng. 
As  he  from  place  to  place  doth  pass  along; 
His  bode's  uncertain,  for  to  think  'tis  vain. 
One  place  so  tall  a  wonder  to  contain  j 
His  whole  proportion  is  upright  and  streight, 
'Tis  nine  foot  fully  and  a  half  in  height. 
Not  much  in  debt  to  age,  his  body  clean 
Up  to  his  stature,  and  not  fat  nor  lean ; 
His  hand  exceeds  in  bigness,  and  his  span 
'Bove  twice  th'  extensions  of  another  man  j 
He  no  excess  of  any  wine  doth  pour 
Into  his  gorge,  nor  doth  he  much  devour  ; 
And  though  his  stature  be  admir'd,  yet  he 
Doth  seem  much  pleas'd  with  mediocritie. 
But  that  which  makes  the  wonder  seem  more  rife. 
This  so  great  gyant  hath  a  little  wife. 
By  whose  advice  he's  carrycd  up  and  down. 
From  court  to  countrey  and  from  town  to  town. 
He  is  their  gain,  where  ever  he  doth  go, 
Tia  she  receives  the  money  for  the  show. 
VOL.  ir.  V  A  woman 


278 

A  woman  lovely,  and  in  all  compleat. 
And  though  but  little,  yet  her  wit  is  great  j 
Thus  heretofore  true  love  with  love  did  dy. 
The  faithfull  Phil/is,  and  the  good  Sir  Guy. 
But  that  a  gyant  one  so  tall  in  show. 
Should  choose  a  wife  and  live  with  one  so  low. 
Is  more  than  ever  any  age  yet  knew, 
And  haply  more  than  age  again  shall  view. 

Finis. 
London,  Printed  for  Matthew  Collins,  at  the  three  Black 
Birds,  in  Cannon  street,  1660." 

In  Wood's  study  at  Oxford,  B.  35.  The  Oxford  anti- 
quary hath  w;ritten  the  following  note  on  the  margin: 

*'  An  Irish  man  as  large  as  this,  was  to  be  seen  at  the  blew 
bore,  OxoD.  an.  1 681,  at  the  act  time." 

A.  O. 


^  The  New  Yeeres  Gift:  presented  at  Court,  from 
the  Lady  Parvula  to  the  Lord  Minimus^  (^com- 
monly called  Little  Jeff'erieJ  Her  Maijesties*  Ser- 
vant^ with  a  Letter  as  it  was  penned  in  short-hand : 
wherein  is  proved  Little  Things  are  better  then 
Great.  Written  by  Microphilvs.  Printed  at  Lon- 
don by  N.  and, J.  Okes,  dwelling  in  Little  St.  Bar- 
tholmewes.  16S6.  24mo.  pp.  1 16.  * 

*'  To  the  reader.  As  they  are  not  alwaies  most  valiant  who 
are  most  violent :  so  commonly  the  most  censorious,  be  the 
least  judicious.  I  expect  the  judgment  of  the  wise,  and  the 
censure  of  the  over  wise ;  and  wish  I  were  of  the  formers  par- 
don as  certaine,  as  the  latter  are  of  mine.  The  censures  of 
the  learned  ought  to  bee  judicious,  the  censures  of  them  both 
charitable.  Howsoever  if  any  shal  say,  when  I  undertooke  this 
worke  I  had  but  little  to  doe,  it  shall  no  way  displease  him, 
who  is,  and  will  remaine  to  his  friends  a  servant,  and  to  his 
foes  a  MicuoPHiLUs." 

Complimentary  verses  are  prefixed,  signed  S.  M. ; 

•  Prefixed  i$  the  portrait  of  JefFery  Hudson,  the  dwarf.  See 
Granger,  temp.  Charles  Ist.  Class.  XII. 

D.L.: 


279" 

D.  L. ;  T.  Little ;  W.  Loe ;  W.  Short.    The  first  is  ^ 
addressed 

*'  To  his  high  and  mights/  friend,  William  Evans,  sir- 
named  the  Great  Porter, 

"  Wil,  be  not  angry  this  small  booke  is  read 
In  praise  of  one  no  bigger  then  thy  head  j 
'Tis  not  in  envy  of  thy  greatnesse  made. 
Which  might  be  unto  twenty  such,  a  shade  : 
Though  hee  bee  small  in  body  and  in  limbe. 
Yet  wee  commend  some  thing  that's  great  in  him 
The  greatnesse  of  his  spirit,  and  his  minde, 
Whose  vertues  are  not  like  thy  strength  confin'd 
Vnto  his  bulke :  but  pure  without  a  dreg  j 
And  has  a  body  streighter  then  thy  leg. 
Doubt  not  in  emulation  some  will  straine 
His  sinewy  muse,  for  to  advance  thy  fame, 
Then  be  not  angry  this  small  Lord  is  prais'd. 
Since  thou  by  nature,  he  by  wit,  is  rais'd. 

S.M. 

The  Letter  is  thus  inscribed  "To  the  most  exquisite  Epitome  ■ 
of  Nature  and  compleatest  Compendium  of  a  Courtier  the  Lord 
Minimvs  ;  [whom]  the  Lady  Parvula  wisheth  health  and  hap- 
pines. — Sir,  May  it  please  your  diminutive  eminence,  permit  a 
devoted  lover  of  your  concise  dimensions,  to  present  very  lowly, 
as  most  fitting  to  your  person,  in  remembrance  of  this  new- 
yeare  a  5OTa// token  of  my  unparralleld  affection,  Confesse  I 
must,  compendious  Sir,  my  gift  is  somewhat  of  the  least,  but 
my  hope  is,  being  therein  so  like  yourselfe,  it  will  not  displease 
you.  And  if  whatsoever  is  received,  is  received  according  to 
the  measure  or  size  of  the  receiver,  be  a  true  rule  in  phyloso- 
phy  ;  then,  bootlesse  had  it  beene  for  your  obsequious  Hand- 
maid, to  have  meditated  any  present  for  size  greater ;  since 
how  great  soever,  it  would  have  beene  but  as  very  little,  your- 
selfe so  very  little,  being  the  receiver :  Nor  is  your  littlenesse 
(mistake  me  not)  mentioned  as  any  derogation  to  worth : 
diamonds  of  most  precious  value,  are  but  Little  in  substance  : 
and  if  it  might  not  appear  in  me  presumption  to  trouble  you 
with  further  discourse,  I  could  with  easie,  or  no  labour  prove 
things  little  to  bee  farr  better  then  things  that  are  great.  Is 
not  a  Microcosme  better  than  a  Macrocosme,  the  little-world 
man,  then  {.he  great  world  earth  ?  Nay  man  the  lesser  world  is 
\oid  of  the  greaier ;  and  in  the  greater  world,  which  is  the 
Creator's  library  (the  severall  creatures  being  as  so  many  bookes 
in  it)  have  we  not  rarer  documents  from  rhe  little  decimo- 
sexlos,  the  ant  and  dove,  then  from  the  great  folios,  the  ele- 
phant and  whale  !  . . , .  And  as  men  that  are  little  are  very  ex- 

u  2  ccllent : 


280 

cdlent :  so  likewise  that  which  is  excellent  in  or  about  men  is 
very  little :  wit,  the  thing  so  admired,  is  not  that  in  men  very 
UttU?  Money,  the  thing  so  desired,  though  a  man  have 
muck,  yet  he  esteemes  it  as  little,  and  things  erer  are  to  be 
iudgtxl  as  they  are  valued  :  is  not  honesty  in  men  very  little, 
when  sophistry  hath  fled  the  scbooles  and  is  become  a  shop- 
keeper, and  tradesmen  think  if  they  lose  their  lying  they  lose 
their  living?  Looke  for  obedience,  of  things  the  best,  is  it  not 
litt/e,  when  princes'  commands  are  rather  questioned  then 
obeyed  ?  Looke  for  malice,  of  things  the  worst,  is  it  not  very 
great,  when  fooles  had  rather  spend  much  in  law  then  forgive 
somewhat  in  charity  ? ....  If  a  man  but  seriously  observe  hee 
shall  finde  very  few  things  such  as  they  seeme :  and  by  reason 
wise  men  also  have  their  weak©  times  their  verdict  to  bee  no 
sufficient  argument  to  command  universall  beliefe,  especially 
where  reason  is  pregnant  with  probable  proofes  on  the  adverse 
side,  add  to  this  diffidence  being  so  necessary  a  part  of  wise- 
dom.  Besides  admit  this  position  /ittle  better  then  great  seeme 
very  strange,  yet  stranger  then  this  have  bin  admitted  after  a 
rational  examination,  and  therefore  why  not  this  upon  the  like 
consideration  ?  When  I  had  one  servant,  I  had  a  servant;  when 
I  had  two  servants,  I  had  balfe  a  servant ;  when  I  had  three 
I  had  never  a  one  :  this  speech  I  presume  may  be  beleeued 
to  be  a  very  mad  one,  and  yet  it  is  a  most  wise  one,  for  'tis 
resolved  thus :  a  master  having  but  one  servant,  thought  him 
over-burthened  with  work,  and  therfore  tooke  another  to  helpe 
him  J  (now  hee  had  two)  but  each  so  trusted  to  the  others 
observance,  that  they  were  often  missing  and  the  worke  not 
done  ;  he  chose  another  (so  he  had  three)  and  was  then  worse 

served  then  before Consider  Utile  morally  and  vertue  is 

in  the  meane :  consider  little  theologically  and  the  whole 
churcti  is  but  a  little  flocke ;  consider  /ittle  civilly,  and  who 
dare  deny  (I  assume  spirit  from  truth)  but  that  the  little 
prince  is  a  better  man  then  the  king's  greatest  subiect  ?  Nay, 
the  king  hiraselfe,  who  is  God's  epilogue  and  man's  prologue, 
take  him  in  the  better  consideration,  with  God  he  is  minor; 
take  him  in  the  otht-r,  with  man  he  is  maior ;  for  so  Tertullian, 
Imperator  est  Maior  omnibus,  solo  Deo  minor:  a  king  is 
greater  then  all  others,  lesse  onely  then  God.  And  I  will  for 
ever  heartily  pray  heaven  blcsse  our  Qneene,  because  she  has 
made  the  kingdome  happy  by  bringing  his  Maiesty  so  many 
little  ones.  In  short  who  desireth  not  in  debt  to  be  as  little  as 
may  bee?  and  what  a  rare  temper  is  it  in  men  of  desart  not  to 
bee  ambitious  of  Grm/nei-?  and  even  in  the  highest  matters 
which  men  attempt,  how  commonly  the  most  doe  come  short, 
and  in  their  greatest  business  effect  but  little.  And  therefore 
as  it  was  said  of  Scipio  that  he  was  nunquam  minus  solus, 
quam  cum  solas,  never  lebsc  alone,  then  when  alone :  so  it  may 

be 


£81 

be  said  of  you  (excellent  ai^/rac/  of  greatnesse)  that  you  are 
nunquam  minus  parvus,  quam  cum  parvus ;  never  lesse  liiile 
then  when  Utile.  I  hope,  you  will  pardon  me  if  in  my  stile  I 
have  used  a  litt/e  boldncsse,  &  familiarity,  you  knowing  it  to  bee 
so  commendable,  and  that  it  is  Nimia  JamilMril as,  great 
boldnes  onely  which  breedeth  contempt  j  especially  since  you 
are  no  stranger,  but  of  my  owne  countrie,  an  englishman, 
though  some  (iudging  by  your  stature)  have  taken  you  to  bee 
a  low-country  -mail.  Many  merry  new-yeares  are  wished  unfo 
you,  by  the  sworne  servant  of  your  Honour's  perfections, 

^  Pasvula. 

**  Postscript.  If  the  great  length  of  my  letter  hath  molested 
your  more  serious  affairs,  you  may  thence  gather  the  con- 
venience oi  little,  and  that  it  might  not  displease,  I  appointed 
it  (by  my  servant  Microphilus)  to  be  written  in  your  owne 
hand.     Finis." 

E.  Hood. 


%  Amwere  to  the  petitions  oj  the  Traytours  and  rehelles 
in  Lyncolneshyre,  Anno  M.  D.  XXXFI.  qto.  4 
leaves. 

This  tract  is  in  reply  to  the  articles  of  complaint  of 
the  men  in  Lincolnshire,  under  the  heads  of  chusing 
counsellors;  suppressing  religious  houses  and  monas- 
teries; the  act  of  uses;  the  grant  of  the  fifteenth  and 
of  the  first  fruits.  They  are  called  "  the  rude  c6- 
mons  of  one  shire,  and  that  one  of  the  most  brute  and 
beastely  of  the  hole  realme,  and  of  least  experience  to 
fynde  faulte."  It  is  written  as  in  the  person  of  the 
king,  and  concludes, 

"  "We  pray  vnto  almyghty  god,  to  gyue  you  grace  to  doo 
your  duities,  to  vse  yourselfes  towarde  vs  lyke  trewe  and  faythe- 
full  subiectes,  so  as  we  may  haue  cause  to  order  you  thereafter,, 
and  rather  obedyentely  to-  consent  amongest  you,  to  ddyuer 
into  thandes  of  our  lieutenant  C.  persons,  to  be  ordered  ac- 
cording to  their  demerites  at  our  wyli  and  pleasure,  than  by 
)our  obstinacy  and  wylfulnes,  to  put  your  selfes,  your  lyues, 
wyues,  chyldren,  landes,  goodes  and  cattalles,  besydes  the  ifl- 
dignation  of  god,  in  thuttcr  aduenture  of  total  distruction  and 
vtter  mine  by  force  and  violence  of  the  swerdc.  Londini  in 
aedil'vs  Tkoniae  B£itheleti  regit  im^ressoris.  cvm  privilegio.' 

J.  H. 

Art, 


.282 


<J[  A  Remedy  for  Sedition,  wherin  are  cnnteyned  many 
thyngesj  concernyng  the  true  and  loyall  oheysance, 
that  commes  owe  vnto  their  prince  and  soueraygne 
lorde  the  kynge.  Anno  M,  D.  XXXVI.  qto.  26 
leaves. 

"  Who  80  ever  (this  tract  begins,)  welle  consyderewth  ith  * 
hymselfe,  the  high  co~modylies,  that  come  of  good  lawes,  he 
■wyl,  I  am  right  assured,  thinke  as  diuine  Plato  thought,  all 
those  lawes,  that  are  made  for  the  welth  and  safegarde  of  man 
kynde,  to  be  of  god,  all  be  it  they  be  constituted  by  manne  : 
on  the  other  syde,  he  that  wel  ponderelh  the  damages,  that 
of  necessitie  muste  folowe,  where  eyther  none  be,  that  can 
rule,  or  fewe  that  wyll  obey,  shall  thynke  as  I  doo,  all  realmes, 
regions,  cities,  and  townes,  that  are  not  gouerned  by  lawes,  to 
be  forestis  of  wyld  beastisj  and  not  places  habytable  for  men. 
We  lacke  noo  good  lawes  God  be  thanked  :  but  what  auayle 
they,  whan  as  Diogenes  saith,  men  that  are  good,  nede  thera 

lyttell,  and  they  that  be  eiiylle,  are  neuer  the  better  for  them 

A  comune  welthe  is  lyke  a  body,  and  soo  lyke,  that  it  can  be 
resembled  to  nothyng  so  conuenient,  as  vpto  that.  Nowe, 
were  it  not  by  your  faythe,  a  madde  herynge,  if  the  fote  shulde 
say,  I  wyl  wear  a  cappe  with  an  ouche  as  the  heade  dothe  ?  If 
the  kneess  shulde  say  we  woU  carie  the  eyes,  an  other  whyle  : 
if  the  shnlders  shulde  clay  me  each  of  them  an  care :  if  the 
heles  wold  nowe  go  before,  and  the  tors  behinde  ?  This  were 
Tndoubted  a  mad  heryng  :  euery  man  wold  say,  the  fete,  the 
knees,  the  shoulders,  the  heles  make  vnlawfull  rcqucstes,  and 
very  madde  petitions.  But  if  it  were  so  in  dede,  if  the  fote 
had  a  cap,  the  knees  eies,  the  shulders  eares,  what  a  monstrous 
body  should  this  be  ?  God  se  ide  them  suche  a  one,  that  shal  at 
any  time  go  about  to  make  as  euil  a  comut^e  welth,  as  this  is  a 
a  body.     It  is  not  mete,  euery  man  to  do  that  he  thinketh 

best I  haue  ofte  meruailed  to  see  the  diligencye  that  the 

Jewc«  vse  in  bringynge  up  theyr  youthe  and  ben  moch  ashamed 
to  se  howe  neglygent  christen  men  are  in  so  godly  a  thynge. 
There  is  neyther  man,  woman,  nor  child  of  any  lawful  age, 
but  he,  for  the  moste  parte,  knoweth  the  lawes  of  Moyses  : 
and  with  vs  he  is  almoste  a  good  curate,  that  knoweth  vi.  or 
vii.  of  the  s.  coramandementes  :  amonges  the  Jews,  there  is 
not  one,  but  he  can  by  some  honest  occupation,  get  his  liuinge. 
There  be  fewe  idell,  none  at  all,  but  suche  as  be  rjchc 
ynoughe,  and  may  Hue  without  labour.  There  is  not  one  beg- 
gcr  amonges  them.    Al  the  cities  of  Italy,  many  places  in  Ce- 

•  Sic. 

cilia 


283 

cilia,  many  bourges  in  Germany,  haue  a  great  nombre  of  Jewe« 
in  them.  I  haue  ben  long  amonges  them  that  are  in  Italy,  I 
iiuer  harde  of  a  Jewe  that  was  a  thefe,  neuer  that  was  a  mur- 
derer. No,  I  neuer  harde  of  a  fray  betwene  them.  I  am 
ashamed  to  saye  as  I  neede  must  saye  ;  they  maye  well  thynke 
theyr  religion  better  than  ours,  if  religio~  be  tried  by  mens 
lyues.  Nowe  if  Moyses  lawe,  lerned  in  youthe,  and  but  car- 
nally vnderstande,  can  so  steye  them,  that  fewe  or  none  fal  into 
other  vice  than  vsury,  whiche  also  they  do  thynke  permitted  by 
Moyses  lawe,  so  that  they  vse  it  not  one  to  an  other,  as  in  dede 
they  do  not,  but  a  Jewe  to  a  straunger,  might  not  we  lerne  so 
moch  of  Christis  law,  as  were  able  to  kepe  vs  from  rebellion  ? 
Maye  not  poore  mens  chyldren  come  to  the  sermons  ?  May 
they  not  here  preachers?  Can  they  here  goddis  lawes,  ye 
though  they  be  but  easily  preached,  and  not  abhorre  sedycyon 

and  rebellion  ? Who  was  lesse  bclaued  in   the  northe,   than 

my  lorde  Cardinall,  god  haue  his  sowle,  before  he  was  amonges 
them?  Who  better  beloued  after  he  had  ben  there  a  whyle  ? 
\Ve  hate  oft  times,  whom  we  haue  good  cause  to  loue.  It  is  a 
■wonder  to  see  howe  they  were  turned,  howe  of  vtter  ennemyes, 
they  becam  bis  dcre  frendes.  He  gaue  byshops  a  right  good 
ensample,  how  they  might  wyn  menshartis.  There  was  fewe 
.holy  dayes,  but  he  wolde  ride  v.  or  vi.  myle  from  his  howse, 
nowe  to  this  paryshe  chuiche,  nowe  to  that,  and  ther  cause  one 
or  other  of  his  doctours,  to  make  a  sermone  vnto  the  people. 
He  sat  amonges  them  and  sayd  masse  before  al  tlie  paryshe. 
He  sawe  why  churches  were  made.  He  began  to  restore  them 
to  their  ryght  and  propre  vse.  If  our  byshops  had  done  so,  we 
,sbuld  haue  sene,  that  preachyng  of  the  gospell  is  not  the  causd 
of  sedition,  but  rather  lacke  of  preachyng  of  it.  He  broughte 
his  dinner  with  bym,  and  bad  dyuers  of  the  parish  to  it.  He 
enquired  whether  tliere  was  any  debate  or  grudge  betwene  any 
.  of  them,  yf  there  were,  after  dinner  he  seme  for  tlic  parties  to 
the  church,  and  made  them  at  one.  Men  say  wel  tliat  do 
wel.  Goddis  lav/es  shal  neuer  be  so  set  by,  as  they  ought,  be- 
fore they  be  well  knowen You  wil  thynke  I  kuowc  Lon- 
don well,  that  make  this  offer  vnto  you :  Blyndcfelde  me, 
caryeme  after  to  what  place  ye  woll,  I  wyll  lyttel  fayle,  to  tel 
where  ye  set  me,  and  before  whose  doore.  They  that  know 
.  not  my  cunnyngc,  wyll  skace  beleue  me.  I  praye  you,  can 
ye  set  me  in  any  place,  but  I  may  say,  and  lye  lyttell,  I  an[i 
nowe  before  a  tauerne,  or  an  ale  howse.     Fayle  I  maye,  but 

farre  I  can  not  fayle We  shall  haue  a   better  tyme,   a 

worse  qua rell  we  can  not  haue,  to  spende  our  bloode  in.  We 
•woll  our  enemies  laughe  not  at  our  distruction.  We  woll 
that  they  be  not  mery  ^t  our  calamitie,  whiche  can  not  be 
mery,  excepte  they  see  vs  sadde.  We  woll  be  frendes,  God 
•aue  Englandc  as  it  is^  if  all  Englyshe  men  say  so  to,  I  am  sure 

God. 


284 

God  wyl  saye  amen.    Londim  in  aedibvs  Thomae  Berthekti 
regii  impressoris.  cvm  privilegio." 

J.  n. 


^  J  Lamentation  in  whiche  is  shewed  what  Ruyne  and 
destruction  cometh  of  seditious  rehellyon.  Anno 
M.  D.  XXXVI.  qto.  12  leaves. 

"If  stvdy"  (itcoramences)  *'hadgotenmeasmuchel«quence, 
as  true  and  vnfeyned  loue  of  my  countrey  gyueth  me  cause  to 
lament :  the"  durst  I  boldely  say,  that  there  is  none  so  wycked, 
none  so  vnnatural!,  none  so  farre  vnder  all  the  senses  of  hu- 
manitie,  but  I  coude  fully  perswade  hym,  nothynge  so  moche 
to  be  eschewed,  as  sedition,  none  soo  worthy  all  punyshement, 
as  they  whyche  trayterously  make  of  one  nation  two,  of  them 
that  euen  now  were  frendes  sodaynly  to  be  vtter  ennemies. 
But  seing  min  eloquence,  whiche  I  muste  nedes  graunte  to  be 
very  smalle,  can  not  so  serue  me,  as  I  desyre  in  so  weighty  a 
mattier,  I  wyll  see  what  loue,  sorowe,  and  pitie  can  do,  whiche 
if  they  coude  as  ernestlye  worke,  as  they  he  greatte  in  me,  I 
wolde  truste  to  make  all  honeste  stomackes  to  dcteste  and  ab- 

horre  sedicious  traylours These  spirituall  traytours,  that 

are  in  barneys  ayenste  thcyr  countrey  call  thcymselfe,  which 
haue  none  other  spirite  than  their  father  the  dyuelle  ha'h  in- 
spired into  them.  If  these  be  spiritual  put  a  couleon  Catilin's 
backe,  is  not  he  than  a  religious  mo^ke,  and  a  good  spirituall 
man?  If  these  be  religious  and  spirituall  men,  whiche  doo  all 
that  they  can  to  distroye  bothe  the  lawes  of  god  and  of  man, 
to  bryng  t!  is  realme  in  desolation,  why  maye  not  Jacke  Cade, 
Jacke  -trawe,  Wyll  Wawe,  Wat  Tyler,  Jacke  Shepeherde, 
Tomme  Myllar,  and  Hob  Carter,  a  harbour  sent  for,  be 
shorne  into  religion  ?  If  they  be  spirituall,  that  consume  the 
day  eyiher  in  ydelnes,  or  in  another  thynge  worse  then  that, 
sowynge  sede  in  other  mens  forowes,  whom  shall  we  call  car- 

nall? If  God  be  on  our  syde,  the  Cobbler  hath  clouted 

euylle,  he  hath  putte  to  moche  hempe  in  his  lyngell.  God  is 
with  the  right  parte,  and  cannot  leaue  it.  All  traytours  God 
wylling,  shall  lerne  by  Lyncolneshire,  nothing  to  be  more 
odious  to  God  and  man,  than  treason.  God  saue  the  kynge. 
Londtni  in  aedibvs  Thomae  Bertheleti  regii  imtressoris.  cvm 
privilegio." 

J.  H. 
Abt. 


285 

%  A  Declaratio7i,  conteynyng  the  ivst  cavses  and  con- 
sydciationsj  of  this  present  wane  with  the  Scottis, 
tvherin  alsoo  appereth  the  trewe  ^  righty  that  the 
hinges  most  royall  mniesty  hath  to  the  souerayntie 
ofScotlande.  (Col.)  Londini  in  officina  Thomas 
Bertheleti  typis  impress.  Cum  &c.  Anno 
M.  D.  XLIL    qto.    16  leaves. 

This  and  the  three  preceding  articles  have  each  of 
the  titles  in  a  compartment  of  naked  boys  in  proces- 
sion; six  of  them  bearing  one^  preceded  by  some  with 
musical  instruments,  with  a  chief  and  others  following: 
up  the  sides  boys  climbing  through  vine  leaves,  and 
at  the  top  a  laureated  head  in  an  oval  between  two 
sphynxes. 

In  Holinshed's  Chronicles  of  England,  edit.  1809, 
this  tract  is  closely  copied.  See  Vol.  HI.  the  latter 
part  of  p.  826  to  p.  828;  and  the  whole  of  it  is  inserted 
under  the  head  of  Scotland,  in  Vol.  V.  p. 5 17 — 26'. 

J.H. 


^  Hypnerotomachia.  The  Strife  of  Loue  in  a  Dreame, 
At  London^  Printed  for  Simon  IVaterson,  and  are 
to  he  sold  at  his  shop,  in  S.  Paules  Church-yard,  at 
Cheape-gate.  1592.  qto.  104  leaves. 

This  is  a  translation  of  a  large  portion  of  the  Hj/p- 
fierotomachie  Polyphiti,  first  printed  in  1499 :  see  JDe 
Bure,  No.  3766.  A  copious  account  of  that  work, 
with  some  spirited  specimens  of  the  wood-cuts,  will, 
we  understand,  be  found  in  the  third  volume  of  Mr. 
Dibdin's  Catalogue  of  Lord  Spencer's  library.  The 
translation  is  not  mentioned  by  Herbert. 

The  initials  R.  D.*  are  subscribed  to  the  dedication, 
but  without  any  notice  that  the  work  had  before  ap 
peared  in  any  other  language.  At  the  back  of  the  title- 
page  is  the  following  brief  invocation  "  to  the  thrise 

•  Probably,  by  the  following  simile,  educated  at  Cambridge; 
*•  When  the  foote  of  the  phane  or  image  in  turning  about,  did 
rub  and  grinde  vpon  the  copper  base,  fixed  vpon  the  pointe  of 
the  obeliske,  it  gaue  such  a  sound  as  if  the  tower  bell  of  Saint 
John's  Coiledgc  in  the  famous  Vniuersitie  of  Cambridge  had  beene 
rung."  am  ^ui^^i'  •  .      , 

honovrable 


286 

honovrable  and  ever  lyving  vertves  of  Syr  Phillip  Syd- 
ney, Knight ;  and  to  the  right  honorable  and  others 
whatsoever,  who  living  loved  him,  aud  being  dead 
give  hiin  his  dve."  On  the  next  page  commences  the 
dedication,  whereby  "  to  the  Right  Honourable 
^Robert  Deuorax,  Earle  of  Essex  and  Ewe,  Viscount 
Hereford,  and  Bourghchier,  Lorde  Ferrers  of  Chart- 
ley,  Bourgchier  and  Louaine,  Maister  of  the  Quenes 
.Maiesties  Horse,  and  Knight  of  the  most  noble  order 
of  the  Garter,  is  wished  tiie  perfection  of  all  happi- 
nesse  and  tryumphant  felicitie  in  this  life,  and  in  the 
worlde  to  come."  [And  continues]  *'  when  I  had  de- 
termined, right  honoraWe,  to  dedicate  this  booke  to 
the  euer  lyuing  vertues  of  that  matchlesse  knight  Syr 
Phillip  Sydney ;  me  thought  that  I  could  not  finae 
out  a  more  noble  personage  then  yourselfe,  and  more 
fit  to  patronize,  shield,  and  defende  my  dutie  to  the 
deade,  then  your  Honour,  whose  greatnes  is  such,  and 
vertues  of  that  power,  as  who  so  comraendeth  them, 
deserueth  not  to  be  accounted  a  flatterer,  but  he  that 
doth  not  the  same,  may  be  thought  an  euill  wilier.. , . » 
My  humble  request  is  that  your  Honor  may  not  thinke 
of  me  (by  the  tytle  of  the  booke  and  some  part  of  the 
discourse)  as  if  I  were  amoious,  and  did  speake  accord- 
ing to  my  owne  passions,  for  1  being  restrained  of  my 
liberty,  and  helde  in  the  graue  of  obliuion  where  I  still 
as  yet  remaine,  oppressed  with  melancholic,  and 
wearied  with  deeper  studies,  I  was  glad  to  betjuile  the 
time  with  these  conceits,  anothomising  in  them  the 
vanitie  of  this  life  and  vnceriaintie  of  the  delights 
•  therof,  in  the  dreame  of  Poliphilus.". ... 

Some  Latin  verses  are  entitled,  "  Anonymi  elegia  ad 
I^ctorem  ;"  and  a  leaf  with  "  fauhes  escaped  in  the 
printing." 

A  specimen  from  the  opening  of  the  first  chapter, 
which  contains  a  description  of  the  sun  rising,  will  be 
sufficient.     There  is  a  head  title  : 

"  Poliphili  hypnerotomachia,  wherein  he  sheweth, 
that  all humaine  and  norldlie  things  are  but  a  dreame, 
and  but  as  vanitie  itselfe.  In  the  netting  foorth  whereof 
many  things  arejigured  worthie  of  remembrance." 

The  author  beginneth  his  Hjpnerotomachia,  to  "  set  downe 
the  hower  and  time  whfn  in  his  sleepe  it  seemrd  to  him  that 
hee  was  in  a  quiet  solitarie  desart,  and  vninhabited  plaine, 

and 


287 

iand  from  thence  afterward  how  he  entered  vnaduisedly  before 
he  was  aware,  with  great  fcare,  into  a  darke  obscure  and  vn- 
frequented  wood, 

'*  The  discription  of  the  morning. 

\  *'  What  houre  as  Phcebus  •   issuing  foorth,  did  bewtifie 

■with  brightnesse  the  forhead  of  Leucothea,  f  and  appearing 
out  of  the  Occean  waues,  not  fully  shewing  his  turning 
wheeles,  that  had  beene  hung  vp,  but  speedily  with  his  swift 
horses  Pyrous  &  Eous,  +  hastning  his  course,  and  giving  a 
tincture  to  the  spiders  webbcs,  among  the  grcene  leaues  and 
tender  prickles  of  the  vermilion  roses,  in  the  pursuitc  whereof 
he  shewed  himselfe  most  swift  &  glistering,  now  vpon  the 
neuer  resting  and  still  moouing  waues,  he  cry  sped  vp  his  ir- 
radient  heyres. 

"  Vppon  whose  vprising,  euen  at  that  instant,  the  rnhorned 
moone  dismounted  hir  selfe,  losing  from  hir  chariot  hir  two 
horses,  the  one  white  and  the  other  browne,  and  drewe  to  the 
horrison  ||  different  from  the  hemisphere  fl  from  whence  she 
came. 

"  And  when  as  the  mountaines  and  hilles  were  beautifull, 
and  the  northeast  winds  had  left  of  to  make  barraine  with  the 
sharpnesse  of  their  blasts,  the  tender  sprigs  to  disquiet  the 
moouing  reedes,  the  fenny  bulrush,  and  weake  Cyprus,  to  tor- 
ment the  foulding  vines,  to  trouble  the  bending  wiilowe,  and 
to  breake  downe  the  brittle  firre  bowghes,  vnder  the  homes  of 
the  lasciuious  bull,  as  they  do  in  winter. 

^'  At  that  very  houre,  as  the  diuers  coulered  flowers  and 
greene  meades,  at  the  comming  of  the  sunne  of  Hypperion** 
feare  not  his  burning  heate,  being  bedued  and  sprinkled  with 
the  christalline  teares  of  the  sweete  morn*ng,  when  as  the 
halcyons  f-j-  vpon  the  leuell  waues  of  the  stil,  calme,  and 
quiet  flowing  seas,  do  build  their  nests  in  sight  of  the  sandie 
shore,  whereas  the  sorrowful  Ero,  with  scalding  sighes  did  be- 

*  Phoebus  the  sunne.  f  Leucothea  the  morning. 

X  Pyr  and  Eo,  the  horses  of  the  sunne. 

II  Horison,  a  circle,  deuiding  the  halfe  spearc  of  the  firmament 
from  the  other  halfe  which  we  do  not  see. 

^  Hemisphere  is  halfe  the  compasse  of  the  visible  heauen. 
**  Hyperion  the  sunne. 

ft  Halcyons  are  certaiue  byrds  which  building  near  the  shore 
▼pon  the  waues  there  will  be  no  storme  vntill  the  young  be 
hatched. 

hold 


urn 

bold  the  dolorons  and  vngrate  departure  of  hit  swimming 
Lcander.  * 

"  I  lying  vpon  my  bed,  an  oportune  and  meet  friend  to  a 
•wearie  body,  no  creature  accorapaning  me  in  my  chamber, 
besides  the  attender  vppon  mj  body,  and  vsuall  night  lights, 
who  after  that  she  had  vsed  dinars  sf)eeches,  to  the  end  shee 
might  comfort  me,  having  vnderstood  before  of  me,  the  origi- 
nall  cause  of  my  hollow  and  deepe  sighes,  she  indeuored  hir 
best  to  moderate,  if  at  least  she  might,  that  my  perturbed  and 
pittiful  estate.  But  when  she  sawe  that  I  was  desirous  of 
sleepe  she  tooke  leaue  to  depart. 

"  Then  I  being  left  alone  to  the  high  cogitations  of  loue, 
bauing  passed  ouer  a  long  and  tedious  night  without  sleepe 
through  my  barren  fortune  and  aduerse  constellation,  altogether 
vncomforted  and  sorrowfull,  by  means  of  my  vntimely  and  not 
prosperous  loue,  weeping,  1  recounted  from  point  to  point, 
what  a  thing  vnequall  loue  is :  and  how  fitly  one  may  loue 
that  dooth  not  loue :  and  what  defence  there  may  bee  made 
against  the  vnaccustomed,  yet  dayly  assaults  of  loue :  for  a 
naked  soule  altogether  vnarmed,  the  seditious  strife,  especially 
being  intestine :  a  fresh  still  setting  vpon  with  vnstable  and 
pew  thoughts. 

"  In  this  sort  brought  to  so  miserable  an  estate,  and  for  a 
long  while  plunged  in  a  deepe  poole  of  bitter  sorrowes,  at 
length  my  wandring  sences  being  wearie  to  feede  still  vpon  vn- 
fauorie  and  fayned  pleasure,  but  directly  and  without  deceit, 
vppon  the  rare  diuine  obiect :  whose  reuerende  idea  is  deeply 
imprinted  within  me,  and  liueth  ingrauen  in  the  secret  of  my 
heart,  from 'which  proceedeth  this  so  great  and  vncessant  a 
strife,  continually  renuing  my  cruell  torments  without  inter- 
mission. I  begin  of  the  conditions  of  those  miserable  loners, 
who  for  their  mistresses  pleasures  desire  their  owne  deaths, 
and  in  their  best  delights  do  think  themselues  most  vnhappie, 
feeding  their  framed  passions  not  otherwise  then  with  sithful 
imaginations.  And  then  as  a  weary  bodye  after  a  sore  labour, 
so  I  somewhat  in  outward  shew  qualified  in  the  payrte  of  my 
sorrowfull  thoughts,  and  hauing  incloystered  and  shut  vp  the 
course  of  my  distilling  teares :  whose  drops  had  watered  my 
pale  checkes,  thorow  amorous  griefe,  desired  some  needfull 
rest. 

*'  At  length  my  moyst  eyes  being  closed  within  their  bloud 

•  Leander,  a  young  man  of  Abydos,  who  in  swimming  over 
the  Hellespont  (a  narow  sea)  by  Byzantium  (which  parteth 
■Europ  from  Asia)  to  Sestus,  was  in  the  sight  of  his  louer  Ero  of 
Sestui  drowned,  which  she  teeing,  threw  hir  self  down  into  the 
sea  and  died  with  him* 

i  shotten 


289 

ahotten  and  reddish  liddes,  presently  betwixt  a  bitter  life  and  a 
sweet  death,  I  was  in  them  inuaded  and  ouercome,  with  a 
heauie  sleepe,  who  with  my  minde  and  watchful!  spirits,  were 
no  pertakars  of  so  high  an  operation.  Methought  that  I  was 
in  a  large  plaine,  and  champion  place,  &c." 

The  translation  is  not  free  from  some  of  the  excep- 
tionable passages  of  the  original,  and  the  concluding 
chapter  contains  the  triumph  of  Vertumnus  and  Pomona. 

Eu.  Hood. 


^  The  Ephemerides  qfPhialo,  deuided  into  three  bookes*  ' 
The  Jirst,  A  method  which  he  ought  to  follow  that 
desireth  to  rebuke  his  friendy  when  he  seeth  him 
swarue :  without  kindling  his  choler,  or  hurting 
himselfe.  The  seconde,  A  Canuazado  to  Courtiers 
in  J'uure  pointes.  The  thirde.  The  defence  of  a 
Cwtezan  oiierthrowen.  And  a  short  Apologie  of 
the  Schoole  of  Abuse,  against  Poets,  Pipers,  Players, 
and  their  Excusers.  By  Step.  Gosson,  Stud.  Oxon, 
Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas  Dawson.  Anno. 
1586-  12mo.  Sig.  M.  4.  With  introduction.  99 
leaves. 

Our  limits  will  not  now  allow  such  a  space  as  might 
be  expected  from  the  singular  rarity  of  this  tract.  By 
the  dedication 

**  To  the  right  noble  gentleman.  Master  Philip  Sydney, 
esqaier,  Stephan  Gosson  wisheth  health  and  happinesse." 
[Concluding  :]  "  the  dales  workes  of  Phialo,  which  spendeth 
his  time  in  profitable  disputation  among  his  freendes,  I  haue 
called  his  Ephemerides,  after  the  manner  of  the  Greekes, 
humbly  requesting  your  worshippe  to  vouchsafe  them  the 
reading,  because  you  are  learned,  and  to  yelde  them  your 
patronage,  sith  they  carie  some  tast  of  the  Vniuersitie,  Your 
worships  to  commande.    S.  G. 

[Then]  "  literarum  studiosis  in  Oxoniensi  Academia  Steph. 
Gosson.  Sal."  [In  four  pages,  subscribed]  "  valete,  Londini 
6  Kalend.  Nouemb.  1579,  Stephanus  Gosson." 

An  address  *'  to  the  reader'*  is  followed  by  "  the 
Ephimerides  of  Phialo,"  divided  into  three  books,  as 
described  in  the  above  title.  From  fo.  81  to  the  end  is 
"  An  apologie  of  the  Schoole  of  Abuse/'  which  might 

have 


290 

hate  formed  a  valuable  appendix  to  the  late  rfeprint  of 
that  work.  * 

"  [Gosson  defends  his  attack  upon  the  ancient  f>oets  for  mak- 
ing Jupiter]  an  abhominable  leacher,  as  wicked  a  wretche  as 
cucr  liued  [king  of  the  gods  :  Venus,  a  notorious  strumpet,]  as 
common  as  a  barbar's  chayre,  [a  goddess,  and  by]  making 
gods  of  them  that  were  brute  bcastes,  in  the  likcnes  of  men  : 
diuine  goddesses  of  common  harlots  :  they  robbe  God  of  his 
honour,  diminishe  his  aucthoritie,  Weaken  his  might,  and  turne 
his  seatc  to  a  stcwes."  [Concluding  there]  "  are  many  of  their 
schollers  so  enchauntcd  that,  like  the  superstitious  and  foolishe 
iEgiptians,  they  had  rather  lose  their  Hues,  then  the  idols  of 
theyr  byrdes,  their  bcastes,  their  i6es,  their  adders,  their 
dogges,  their  cattes,  their  serpentes,  their  crocodiles. 

[To  the  pipers  he  says  :]  "  Let  them  not  think  I  abhorre 
musique  :  it  they  put  on  their  spectacles,  or  take  their  eyes  in 
their  hands,  &  looke  better  in  the  Schoole  of  Abuse,  they  shal 
finde  that  with  Plutarch  I  accuse  them  for  bringing  their 
cuning  into  theaters  :  y*  I  say,  they  haue  wilfully  left,  or  with 
ignorance  loste,  those  warlike  tunes  which  were  vsed  in 
auncient  times,  to  stirre  vp  in  vs  a  manly  motio",  and  found 
cut  new  descant  with  the  dauncers  of  Sybaris,  to  rocke  vs 

asleepe  in  all  vngodlinesse Though  I  be  of  Plutarchc's 

opinion,  that  wheti  we  haue  done  or  saide  all  that  wee  can, 
the  oldest  feshion  is  euer  best,  that  newe  cuttes  are  the 
paternes  of  running  heads,  strange  blockes,  the  very  badges  of 
fonde  conceitcs,  yet  do  I  not  forbidde  our  newe  found  instru- 
mentes,  so  that  we  handle  them  as  Dauid  did,  too  prayse  God, 
nor  bring  them  any  more  into  publique  theaters,  too  please 
wantons.  London  is  so  full  of  vnprofitable  pipers  and  fidlers, 
that  a  man  can  no  sooner  enter  a  tauerne,  but  two  or  three 
caste  of  them  hang  at  his  heeles,  too  giue  him  a  daunce 
before  he  departe,  therefore  let  me"  of  grauitie  examine  the 
c^s«,  and  iudgc  vprightly,  whether  the  sufferaunce  of  such  idle 
beggers  be  not  a  greeuous  abuse  in  a  common  wealth, 

[He  tells  the  players  if  they] «'  take  a  little  more  counsell  of 
their  pillowe,  they  shall  finde  themselues  to  be  the  worste, 
and  the  daungerousest  people  in  the  world.  A  theefe  is  a 
shrewde  member  in  a  common  wealth,  he  empties  our  bagges 
by  force,  these  ransacke  our  purses  by  permission  j  he  spoileth 
vs  secretly,  these  rifle  vs  openly;  hcc  gcttes  the  vpperha'd  by 
blowcs,  these  by  merry  iestes ;  he  suckes  our  bloud,  these  our 
manners  ;  he  woundes  our  bodie,  these  our  soule  ;  O  God,  O 
men,  O  heauen,  O  earth,  O  tymes,  O  manners,  O  miserable 
dayes.  He  suffereth  for  his  offence,  these  stroute  without 
punishment  vnder  our  noses,  and  lykc  vnto  a  consuming  fire 

•  In  Lord  Somers'  Tracts,  Vol.  IIL  p.  55*. 

are 


291 

are  nourished  stil  with  our  decay. ....  If  Diogenes  were  now 
aliue  to  see  the  abuses  that  grow  by  playes,  I  belieuc  bee 
wouldc  wishc  rather  to  be  Londoner's  hounde  than  his  ap- 
prentice, because  hee  rateth  his  dogge,  for  wallowing  in 
carrion,  but  rebukes  not  his  seruaunt  for  resorting  to  playes 

that  are  rank  poison They  muste  not  thinke  that  I  banishe 

recreation,  because  I  barre  them there  are  other  good 

pastimes  to  be  founde,  if  we  be  willing  to  seeke  them  out 

He  that  thinkes  wanton  playes  a  meete  recreation  for  the 
minde  of  man,  is  as  farre  from  the  trueth  as  the  foolish 
Gentiles,  which  belieue  that  their  gods  delight  in  toyes,  and 
wee  which  carie  our  money  too  players  too  feede  their  pride, 
may  be  wel  compared  to  the  Bath  keeper's  asse  which  bringeth 
liim  woode  too  make  his  fire,  and  contenteth  himself  with  the 
smell  of  the  smoke.  . . .  Our  players  since  I  set  out  the  Schole  of 
^buse,  haue  trauailed  to  some  of  mine  acquaintance  oi  both 
Vniuersities,  with  fayre  prefers,  and  greater  promises  of  rc- 
wardes,  if  they  woulde  take  so  much  paines  as  to  write  against 
mee  ;  at  laste,  like  to  Penelopee's  suters,  which  seeing  them- 
selues  disdained  of  her,  were  glad  to  encroch  with  some  of 
her  maides,  when  neither  of  both  Vniuersities  would  heare 
their  plea,  they  were  driuen  too  flie  to  a  weake  hedge,  and 
fight  for  theraselues  with  a  rotten  stake.  Beggars,  you  know, 
roust  be  no  choosers,  hunger  sauceth  enery  meate  :  when 
fishers  lay  their  hookes  in  haste,  frogges  will  make  sauory 
dishe.  It  is  tolde  mee  that  they  haue  got  one  in  London  to 
write  certaine  Honest  excuses,  for  so  they  tearmc  it,  to  their 
dishonest  abuses  which  I  reuealed.  It  is  good  for  him  that 
will  falsifie  pictures,  not  too  let  them  see  the  liuely  creatures, 
that  are  desirous  to  view  his  worke,  neither  is  it  conuenient  for 
him  too  present  his  excuse  to  any  of  those  that  haue  read  my 
Schoole,  and  behelde  those  abuses  in  playing  places,  least  their 

eyes  reprooue  him  for  a  lyar I  stay  my  hande  till  I  see 

his  booke  j  when  I  haue  perused  it,  I  wil  tel  you  more. 
Mean  while  I  beseech  them  fo  looke  to  their  footing  that  run 
ouer  shooes  in  al  these  vanities,  lest  they  be  swallowed  with- 
out recouery  :  and  wishing  to  my  Schoole,  some  thriftier 
scholers,  to  players  an  honester  occupation,  and  to  their  ex- 
cuser  a  better  minde,  I  take  my  leaue.  Finis.  Stephan  Gosson. 
Ccelo  tegitur,  qui  nan  halet  veram.  Imprinted  at  London  at 
the  Three  Cranes  in  the  Vinetree,  by  Thomas  Dawson,  1586.** 

J,  H. 


^  A  Caueat  or  Warening  for  Common  Cursetors, 
vvlgarely  called  FagaboneSf  set  forth  by  Thomas 
Harman  Esquierj  for  the  vtilitie  arid  profit  of  his 
natural  country.     Augmejited  and  inlarged  by  the 

,  first 


29^ 

Jirst  Author  hereof.  Whereunto  is  added  the  tale 
of  the  second  taking  of  the  counterfet  cranky  with 
the  true  report  of  his  vehauiour  and  also  his  punish- 
ment for  his  so  dissembling,  most  maruelous  to  the' 
hearer  or  reader  thereof.  New  Imprinted.  Anno 
1573.  [  Wood-cut  of  two  rogues  being  whipped  at 
the  tail  of  a  cart,  with  the  following  verses  be- 
neath :] 

This  cart  at  his  tayle  doth  draw  all  about. 
Such  pylfering  pickers  that  to  it  is  Irjed : 

The  whip  with  his  whickes  the  bloudfetcheth  out. 
The  Baudes  for  baudery,  and  Hores  therein  ryed. 

[Colophon.]  Imprinted  at  London  by  Henry  Mid- 
dleton  dwelling  in  Flete-streat  at  the  signe  of  the 
Faucon :  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop  in  S.  Dun- 
stones  Churchyard.  An.  1573.  qto.  H.  iij. 

This  appears  to  be  the  third  edition  of  a  work  already 
described,*  and  serves  to  fix  the  precise  time  of  the  appearance 
of  the  first  edition  by  the  following  passage:  "  Vppon 
Alhallonday,  in  the  morning,  last  Anno  Domini  1566,  or  my 
boke  was  halfe  printed,  I  meane  the  first  impression." — I  be- 
lieve the  present  impression  contains  an  additional  wood-cut 
with  the  portraits  of  "  a  vpright  man,  Nicolas  Blunt  j  the 
cou  terfet  cranke  Nicolas  Genings,"f  with  the  following  verses., 
for  a  description. 

"  These  two  pictures  lyuely  set  out. 

One  body  and  soule,  God  send  him  more  grace : 

This  monstrous  dissembler,  a  cranke  all  about,  ' 

Vncomly  coueting  of  eche  to  imbrace,  ^ 

Money  or  wares,  as  he  made  his  race. 
And  sometyme  a  mariner  and  a  seruing  man :  ' 

Or  els  an  artificer,  as  he  would  fayne  San. 
Such  shiftes  he  vsed,  being  well  tryed. 
Abandoning  labour  till  he  was  espyed  ; 
Conding  punishment  for  his  dissimulation. 
He  surely  reccyued  with  much  exclamation." 

J.H. 

•  Sec  vol.  ii.  p.  51 5,  and  Earle's  Microcosmographj,  by  Bli^s, 
iSii,  p.  146. 
t  "  His  picture  rcmayneth  in  BrydewcU  for  a  monyment." 

%rhe 


293 


<|[  The  Belman  of  London :  Bringing  to  Light  the  most 
notoriovs  viUanies  that  are  now  practised  in  the 
kingdome.  Profitable  for  Gentlemen f  Lawyers, 
Merchants^  Citizens,  Farmers,  Masters  of  housholds^ 
and  all  sorts  of  servants,  to  marke,  and  delight  full 
for  all  men  to  reade.  Lege,  Perlege,  lielege. 
[Wood  cut  of  the  Bellman  in  the  act  of  ringing 
through  the  street,  with  a  lanthorn  and  long  staff 
on  his  shoulder,  accompanied  with  a  dog.]  Printed 
at  London  for  Nathaniel  Butter.  I6O8.  qto.  I.  ij. 

"  The  poore  Belman  of  London,  to  all  those  that  either  by 
office  are  sworne  to  punish,  or  in  their  own  loue  to  vertue, 
wish  to  haue  the  disorders  of  a  state  amended  humbly  dedi- 
cateth  these  his  discoueries  :"  aad  we  believe  there  are  few 
of  our  readers  but  are  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  nature 
of  the  discoveries,  as  the  work  had  many  impressions  in  the 
lifetime  of  the  author,  Thomas  Deckar,  who,  according  to 
Oldys'  manuscript  notes,  "  was  full  threescore  years  of  age  in 
the  year  l638."  It  is  the  first  edition*  of  the  Bellman,  the 
date  of  which  is  rather  doubtfully  noticed  by  Dr.  Nott  in  his 
late  valuable  reprint  of  the  Gull's  Horn-look,  by  the  same 
author. f  Deckar  probably  founded  the  present  work  upoii 
Harman's  Caveat,  above  noticed,  enlarging  it  with  an  account 
of  gamblers  and  others,  to  whose  depredations  the  polished 
classes  of  society  are  more  exposed  than  to  those  of  pilfering 
beggars,     A  single  character  may  suffice. 

"  Jn  angler. 

"  An  angler  is  a  lymb  of  an  vpright-man,  as  beeing  de- 
riued  from  him:  their  apparell  in  which  they  walke  is  commonly 
frieze  jerkins  and  gaily  slops  :  in  the  daytime,  they  beg  from 
house  to  house,  not  so  much  for  reliefe  as  to  spy  what  lyes  fit 
for  their  nets,  which  in  the  night  following  they  fish  for. 

*  "  The  third  impression,  with  new  additions :  printed  at  Lon- 
don, for  Nathaniel  Butter,  1608." 

t  The  Gull's  Horn -book,  or  a  large  portion  of  it,  was  probably 
reprinted,  as — The  young  Gallanfs  Academy:,  or,  directions  ho^jo  ke 
should  behave  himself  in  all  places  and  company.  As,  1.  In  an  ordinary. 
a.  In  a  play  house,  -r,.  In  a  Ta'vern.  4.  As  he  passes  along  the  street 
all  hours  of  the  night.  5.  Hoiu  to  avoid  Constables  Interrogatories. 
To  ivhich  is  added,  the  character  of  a  To-ivn -livr?.  Together  nvith . 
the  character  of  a  right  generous  and  nvell-bred  gentleman.  By  S,  V. 
trinted  and  are  to  be  sold  by  Percivall  Gilbourne  at  the  George  in 
Chancery  lane  near  Fleet  street.  Advertisement  iu  Protestant  Mer- 
Cjiry.  Novem,-45-7  :   1696. 

vot.  jv,  X  Th4 


mi 

The  rod  they  angle  with  is  a  staiFc  of  fiue  or  six  foot©  In  length, 
in  which  wilhin  ope  inch  of  the  top  is  a  little  hole  beared 
quite  thorough,  into  which  hole  they  put  an  yron  hooke,  and 
with  the  same  doe  they  angle  at  windowes  about  midnight, 
the  draught  tbey  pluck  vp  beeing  apparell,  sheetes,  couerlets, 
or  whatsoeuer  their  yron  hoekes  can  lay  bold  of:  which  prize 
when  they  haue  gotten,  they  do  not  presently  make  sale  of 
it,  but  after  fourc  or  fine  daies,  or  according  as  they  suspect 
inquirie  wiU  be  made  after  it,  c^oe  tbey  briug  such  gopdes  to  a 
broker  (traded  vp  for  the  purpose)  who  lends  vpon  them  ^)alfe 
so  much  money  as  they  be  worth,  which  notwithstanding 
serues  the  angler  j^  while  for  spending  raopey,  and  enriches 
him  that  buyes  it  for  a  long  time  after."  J.  H. 


^  Hymnes,  or  sacred  Songs,  wherein  the  right  vse  of 
Irdtsie  may  be  espied.  J^e  Alexander  Hume: 
Wherevnto  are  added,  the  experience  of  the  Aiithor's 
youth,  and  certain  precepts  seruing  to  the  practise 
of  ISanctification.  The  table  followes  in  the  next 
page.*  Ephes.  v.  18.  But  be  ful  filled  with  the 
Spirit  speaking  vnto  yourselues  in  Psalmes,  and 
liymnesy  and  spirituall  songs,  singing  and  maJiing 
melodie  to  the  Lord  in  your  hearts.  E>din,bvrg^^y 
Printed  by  Robert  Walde-grojue,  Pririter  to  the 
King's  Majestie.  1599.  Cum  privilegio  regio.  qto. 
pp.  66.  besides  iuUoduction,  four  leaves. 

The  inscription  of  the  dedi<,q.tiop  wiishes  :  *'  to  the  faithfvll 
and  vertvovs  ladie,  Elizabeth  Mal-vill,  Ladie  Cumrie,  grace, 
mercic,  and  peace,  from  God  the  father,  and  from  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  And  concludes  with  saying  :  "  hauing  com- 
posed in  my  youih  a  few  songes  in  verse  to  the  gbrie  of  God, 
seeing  the  custome  of  men  is  to  dedicate  their  workes  to  their 
fauorites  and  patrones :  shall  it  not  be  lawftiH  to  me  also,  after 
the  man(?r  of  men,  to  present  vnto  you  (a  faithful!  ^nd  bjs- 

•  "  At  the  back  of  the  title :  the  contents  of  this  booke.— i ,  The 
author's  recantation. — »  Of  Gods  hendits  bestowed  vpon  man.— 
3,  A  description  of  the  day  etiuall.— 4,  Consolation  to  his  sorrow- 
ful! «oule.— 5,  Praise  for  dcHuerie  of  the  sick.  -  6,  Of  God's  omni- 
potencie.— 7,  The  triumph  of  the  Lord  after  the  maner  of  men, 
alluding  to  the  defait  of  the  Spanish  nauLe,  in  the  yeare  1588. — 
S,  The  humiliation  of  a  sinner.— 9,  An  epistle  to  Master  Gilbert 
Moncrieff  raediciner  to  his  majestie,  containing  the  experience  of 
the  author's  youth.— 10,  Christian  precepts  seruing  to  the  practise 
of  Sanctification."    The  lajt  are  moral  sentence*  in  prose. 

tpucd 


29^ 

foued  ladie)  a  part  of  "my  little  labours  ?  Arid  sa'meilJe  tlie 
rather,  because  I  know  ye  delite  in  poesie  yourselfe,  and  as  I 
vnfeinedly  confes,  excelles  any  of  your  sex  in  that  art,  that 
euer  1  hard  within  this  nation.  I  haue  seene  your  composi- 
tiones  so  copious^  so  pregnant,  so  spiritual!,  that  I  doubt  not 
but  it  is  the  gift  of  God  in  you.  Finally,  because  so  little  a 
worke  as  this  is,  requires  a  short  epistle,  I  take  ray  leaue,  not 
doubting  but  my  good  meaning  shall  be  fauorablie  accepted. 
Continue  (good  ladie  and  sister)  in  that  godlie  course  which, 
ye  haue  begun  :  let  nothing  be  done  vpon  ostentation.  Loue 
your  husband :  haue  a  modest  care  of  your  familie,  and  let 
your  cheefe  care  be  casten  vpon  the  Lord  Jesus,  who  will 
recompense  vs  at  his  conuning.  To  God  therefore  the  Father, 
Qur  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  be  all  praise  for  euer.  Amen.  At 
Logic  the  iSth  of  Februarie,  1 598.  Your  brother  in  the  Lord 
Jesus,  Alexander  Hume,  minister  of  the  Evangell." 

The  preface  is  addressed  "  to  the  Scottish  youth/* 
repreheivding  the  custom  of  makit»g  vaia  recitals  and 
singing  idle  songs  when  they  meet  in  company,  of 
which,  as  it  exhibits  a  faithful  trait  of  their  manners, 
we  shall  give  an  extract  from  the  commencement. 

"  Ta  the  Scottish  youth.  As  it  is  a  thing  verie  customable 
vnto  thee,  O  curious  youth,  greafuly  to  delite  in  poesie,  ather 
in  playing  the  parte  of  a  poet  thyselfe,  or  by  exercising  thy 
spirit  in  reading  and  proclaiming  the  compositions  of  other 
men  :  so  it  is  as  common  to  tliy  indiscreit  age  to  make  a  cbuse 
of  that  naughtie  subiect  of  fleshly  and  vnlawfuU  loue.  In 
suche  sort  that  in  princes  courts,  in  the  houses  of  greate  men, 
and  at  the  assemblies  of  yong  gentilmen  and  yong  damesels, 
the  chiefe  pastime  is,  to  sing  prophanc  sonnets,  and  vaine 
ballats  of  loue,  or  to  rehearse  some  fabulous  faits  of  Palmerine, 
Amadis,  or  other  such  like  raueries  and  such  as  ather  haue  the 
art  or  vain  poetike,  of  force  they  must  shew  themselues  cunning 
followers  of  the  ethnike  poets,  both  in  phrase  and  substance, 
or  else  they  shall  be  had  in  no  reputation.  Alas  for  pittie  t 
Is  this  the  right  vse  of  a  Christian's  talent  to  incense  the 
burning  lustes  of  licentious  persons  by  such  euiU  examples  and 
allurements  ?  Art  thou  (O  miserable  man)  well  occupied,  that 
day  and  night  busies  thy  braine  to  invent  these  things  which 
may  foster  the  filthie  vice  and  corruption  that  naturallie  It 
seased  in  the  harts  of  all  men  ?  Was  it  to  this  end  that  thy 
maker  sent  thee  in  the  world  to  be  an  instrument  of  wicked- 
nes  ?  Or  hes  he  giuen  thee  such  gifts,  and  viuacitie  of  spirit, 
to  be  exercised  in  vanitie  and  prouoking  others  to  vncleannes  ? 
Knowes  thou  not  that  thou  must  render  account  of  euerie  idle 
word  that  proceedes  out  of  thy  mombe  J  And  that  thy  vngodlie 
conuersation  banishes  the  spirit  of  God  from  tliee  ?  Suftbcats 

»2:    ,  tby 


296 

thy  gude  giftes,  rottis  thy  conscience,  and  makis  thy  God  to 
become  anc  encmie  against  thee." 

After  striving  to  awaken  the  reader's  attention  to  a 
due  enquiry  of  his  own  state,  and  a  search  into  the 
scriptures  for  miracles,  valiant  deeds  of  arms,  wise 
sentences,  and  heavenly  poesy,  he  concludes 

"  I  haue  heere  set  downe  before  thee  a  few  spirituall  songs, 
begun  in  my  youth  and  prosecuted  in  my  wraslings  wi'th  the 
world,  and  the  flesh,  whereby  thou  may  cleerely  see  what 
aboundance  of  good  matter  is  offered,  which  the  most  parte  of 
poets  foolishlie  reiectes,  and  dedicates  their  hole  studie  to 
things  moste  vile  and  contemptible.  Farther,  I  contemne  not 
the  moderate  and  trew  commendation  of  the  vertuous  and 
noble  actes  of  good  men  :  nor  yet  the  extolling  of  liberall 
sciences  :  but  thous  hast  notable  examples  in  the  French 
toong  set  foorth  by  Salust  of  Bartas.  Onely  thus  much  haue 
I  written  in  rude  Scottish  and  hash  verses,  to  prouoke  the 
more  skilful!  in  that  art  to  flee  higher,  and  to  encourage  the 
meaner  sort  to  follow.  To  the  effect,  that  the  spirits  of  men 
in  all  their  actions  may  be  applyed  to  the  right  end,  euen  to 
glorifie  God,  who  must  euer  sanclific  and  prosper  the  inter- 
prises  of  his  owne.  At  Edinburgh  the  9th  day  of  December, 
\5QA.  Thy  louing  friend.  Alexander  Hume." 

In  1802  Sibbald  published  in  his  Chronicle  of 
Scottish  Poetry*  the  epistle  to  Montcrief,  which  con- 
tains several  particulars  of  onr  author's  life;  part  of 
the  poem  on  the  defeat  of  the  Spanish  navy  in  1588, 
which  is  subscribed  the  4ih  October,  158|Ji;  and  the 
third  piece  "  of  the  day  Estivall"  as  ''Thanks  for  a 
Summer  day  :"  but  has  not  preserved  the  original  text 
in  either  article.  In  the  biographical  prefixture  Sib- 
bald suspects  Hume  to  have  been  '*  the  person  who, 
under  the  name  of  Polwart^  carried  on  o.  fly  ting  cor- 
respondence with  Montgomery :"  author  of  the  beau- 
tiful moral  allegory  of  the  Cherrie  and  Slae.  Ujjoii 
this  conjecture  Dr.  Leyden  (in  whose  recent  death  we 
have  to  regret  the  loss  of  one  of  the  genuine  and  enthu- 
siastic followers  of  nature  and  the  mu8e,f)  observes 
**  these  must  have  been  t;ompo8ed  while  he  retained 
the  character  of  a  courtier  :"  nor  is  it  probable  from 
the  present  work  but  that  Hume,  after  putting  on  the 
gown,  was  a  rigid  and  exemplary  minister.  Dr.  L. 
has  inserted  among  the  Scoiish  Descriptive  Poems'};,  the 

•  Vol.  iil.  p.  367. 

t  See  Gent.  Magazine,  vol.  LJ^XXII.  p.  409. 

X  p.  «9S' 

one 


297 

one  of  the  Day  Estivall,  with  preliminary  observa- 
tions and  having,  as  the  phraseology  of  Hume  is  rather 
English  than  Scotish,  reduced  it  to  the  modern 
standard.  Each  editor  has  given  a  memoir  of  Hume, 
as  also  has  Mr.  Irving  in  the  Lives  of  the  Scotish 
Poets.* 

The  first  of  the  following  specimens  follows  the  pre- 
face, and  is  not  mentioned  in  the  table  of  contents. 

A  Sonnet  of  Loue. 

Not  lawful]  loue,  but  lecherie  I  lacke:  - 

Not  women  wise,  but  witlesse  I  disdaine  : 
Not  constant  trueth,.  but  tromperie  I  detract : 
Not  innocencfc,  hut  insolence  prophaine  : 
Not  blessed  bands,  but  secreite  working  value : 
As  Pyramus  and  Thisbe  tuike  on  hand. 
As  Jason  and  Medea  made  their  trainc. 
As  Daemophon  and  foolish  Phillis  fand. 
As  Hercules  at  lolees  command, 
Which  like  a  wife  for  loue  sat  downe  to  spin. 
And  filially  all  follie  I  gainstand. 
Which  may  aiiure  the  heart  to  shame  or  sin  : 
Beware  with  vice,  be  not  tlie  cause  of  ill. 
Sine  speak,  and  sport,  look,  laugh,  and  loue  your  fill. 

Of  God's  Omnipotencie. 

O  euerie  liuing  warldly  wight. 
Awake  and  dre«  your  selfe  with  speedej 
To  senie  and  praise  the  God  of  might, 
Fron)  whon^e  all  bountie  dois  proceede: 
For  gif  ye  drift,  and  still  refuse. 
The  heauens  and  earth  will  you  accuse. 

The  bruLall  beasts  but  ony  stryfe. 
They  willinglie  his  voice  obay  : 
The  creatures  that  bes  na  life. 
Sets  forth  his  glorie  day  by  day  : 
The  earth,  the  aire,  the  sea,  and  fire, 
Ar  subiect  all  to  his  im^>i»c 

The  heauen  it  is  his  dwelling  place, 
The  earth  bis  litiil  fute-stule  law. 
His  warks  are  all  before  his  face  : 
Of  hearts  the  secreits  he  dois  knaw. 
And  euerie  thing  as  in  a  glas. 
He  sets  before  it  cum  to  pas. 

♦  Vol. 'II.  p.  197. 

.  Tlw 


The  swift  and  actiue  fierie  sprdts. 
The  cherubins  of  substance  pure. 
They  walk  amang  the  holie  streeits. 
And  makes  him  daylie  seruice  sure: 
Yea,  at  all  times  they  readie  stand. 
To  gang  and  cum  at  his  command. 

When  Jonah  in  the  sea  was  cast. 
By  lot,  for  safeiie  of  the  le  lue, 
Anrightie  qohaill  did  fcJlow  fast, 
Prepard  the  prophet  to  receaue  j 
Qubilk  at  command  did  him  deuore. 
Sine  brought  him  safely  to  the  shore. 

And  as  Eliah  lurking  lay, 
Lang  solitar  by  Cherith  side. 
The  raiTens  left  their  common  pray. 
His  sustenance  for  to  prouide. 
As  they  were  charged  him  to  feede. 
They  brought  him  daylie  flesh  and  bread. 

Quha  learned  Balaam's  brutall  asse. 
The  angell  of  the  I-,ord  to  knaw  j 
A  foote  she  forward  wald  not  pas. 
That  way  where  she  him  standing  saw, 
Bot  spake  that  maruell  \\  as  to  see. 
Against  hir  roaister's  crueltie. 

The  roaring  lions  ficrs  and  fell, 
Brought  vp  and  baited  ay  with  biood> 
They  spar'd  the  godly  Daniell, 
Expos'd  to  them  in  place  of  fude  : 
Sa  fishes,  fouls,  and  raueoous  beists, 
Of  God  naaist  high  they  hald  the  heists. 

The  vcrie  deuils  dare  nocht  rebeU, 
Against  his  M^iiestie  and  might, 
The  spreits  vncleane  he  did  expel]. 
Forth  of  the  pure  possessed  wigUt, 
Quha  but  his  priuiledge  diuine. 
Durst  na  way  enter  in  the  swine. 

Into  the  prophets  moutbes  the  spreit 
Of  lies  could  neuer  enter  in, 
Quhile  he  did  iiceiKc  first  intreate. 
Of  God  the  Lord,  for  Ahab's  sin  : 
Quhilk  be  that  mcanes  did  him  entysc. 
His  awin  defait  till  enterprise. 

His  halie  statute  to  fulfiH, 
And  potent  power  to  deciaire. 
The  massiue  earth  reposih  still. 
Suspended  in  the  cessill  eirc  • 


Ana 


And  at  hir  dew  appointed  houres. 

Brings  forth  raaist  pleasant  fruits  and  flourfcs. 

Quhat  thing  is  fiercer  nor  the  sea  ? 
Mair  raging  nor  the  awfull  deepe, 
Quhilk  back  retird  at  his  decrie, 
And  dois  her  bounds  and  marchis  keepe ; 
Syne  at  his  charge  apart  stude  by. 
To  make  his  boste  a  passage  dry. 

Without  the  subtile  air  but  dout, 
Na  plaint  nor  lining  thing  may  lest : 
Therefore  it  cleaues  the  earth  about. 
And  is  in  euerie  place  possest. 
Then  as  his  godlie  wisedome  wald, 
Decernes  the  seasons  hett  and  cald. 

The  brimstane  and  the  burning  fire, 
Maist  sudenely  from  heaueh  fell  downe. 
For  to  consume  into  this  yre, 
Baith  Sodome  and  Gomorrah  towne : 
Bot  in  the  firie  furnace  he. 
Preserved  safe  the  children  thrfeCi 

The  mightie  winds  blaws  to  and  fra, 
Frora  euerie  airth  be  day  and  night. 
We  heare  them  thudding  by  vs  ga, 
Yet  not  conccaues  them  with  our  sight: 
Bot  in  a  clap  the  Lord  to  please. 
Their  blasts  they  quietly  appease. 

Like  flocks  of  fowls  the  clouds  abouc, 
Furth  flics  and  couers  all  the  sky  : 
Againe  they  suddenly  remooue. 
We  wat  not  where  nor  reason  why : 
Bot  till  obey  his  holy  law, 
They  poure  out  rain,  sharps  haile,  and  snaw, 

Behald  the  fearefull  thunder  crack, 
•5((i     And  fierie  flauchts  sa  violent, 

Appeares  nocht  in  the  cloudis  black, 
Quhill  be  the  highest  they  be  sent : 
The  harts  of  men  are  dasht  with  feare, 
Sik  lights  to  see,  and  claps  to  heare. 

The  heauen  sa  high,  sa  cleare  of  hew. 
Declares  his  power  passing  weill : 
Sua  swift  of  course  ay  recent  new, 
Revoluing  like  a  turning  wheill, 
Nane  knewes  whereof  the  globe  is  made, 
Quhais  beautie  at  na  time  dois  fade. 


He 


300 

He  made  the  sun  a  lampe  of  light, 
A  woll  of  heate  to  shine  by  day 
He  made  the  moone  to  guide  the  night  j 
And  set  the  starnis  in  god  array, 
Orion,  Pleiads,  and  the  Vrse, 
Obserues  their  dew  preserued  course. 

O  poets,  paganes  impudent, 
Quhy  worship  ye  the  planets  seauen  ? 
The  glore  of  God  be  you  is  spent, 
On  idols  and  the  hoste  of  hcautn. 
Ye  pride  your  pens  mens  ear<fs  to  pleis, 
With  fables  and  fictitious  leis. 

Your  knowledge  is  bot  ignorance. 
Your  cunning  curiositie  :  , 

I  finde  your  facund  eloquence. 
Replete  with  fekles  fantasie  : 
Ye  neuer  knew  the  liuely  rod. 
Nor  gospell  of  the  Sun  of  God. 

He  is  aboue  Mercurius, 
Aboue  Neplunus  on  the  sea. 
The  winds  they  knaw  not  Eolus, 
Their  is  na  Jupiter  but  he  : 
And  all  your  gods  baith  great  and  small. 
Are  of  na  force  for  he  is  all. 

Bot  sonnes  of  light  ye  knaw  the  trueth. 
Extol  the  Lord  with  heart  and  minde, 
Remoue  all  stayes  and  sluggish  sleuth. 
Obey  his  voice,  for  he  is  kinde : 
That  heauen  and  earth  niay  witnes  beare, 
Ye  loue  that  God  which  bought  you  dearc. 


H  Catalogue  of  CEarlp  &coti0|^  10oet0,  to  tge 
<IEnti  of  tSe  ^irteemS  Centurp* 

The  following  catalogue  is  the  result  of  a  few  inqui- 
ries respecting  the  writings  of  the  earlier  Scotish  poets; 
and  is  onlj  the  outline  of  a  subject,  which,  if  properly 
executed,  would  be  very  interesting  to  those  who  are 
fond  of  Scotish  literature,  and  form  an  useful  supple- 
ment or  companion  to  Warlon's  History  of  English 
Poetry.      It  is  however  a   task    that   would   require 

much 


301 

much  time,  and  other  necessary  qualifications,  and  has 
been,  more  than  once,  attempted,  without  success.* 

Many  other  poets,  flourished  during  the  same  pe- 
riod, with  those  who  are  recorded  in  the  following  list, 
yet  no  remains  of  their  works  are  known ;  they  are 
chiefly  mentioned  by  Dunbar,  Lyndsay,  and  Roliand, 
as,  James  Afflek  ;  Clerk,  of  Tranent;  David  Drum- 
mond  ;  Durie,  sometime  Bishop  of  Galloway ;  Etrik  ; 
Galbreith  ;  Henry,  a  Cistercian  monk;  Heriot;  Sir 
Hew,  of  Eglintoun;  Hutchown  of  the  AweRyale;  King. 
James  V.;  Kendal ;  Kid,  or,  Kyd  ;  Kynlouch  ;  Christian 
Lindsay ;  Sir  Mungo  Lockhart ;  Quintene,  perhaps 
Quintin  Schaw ;  Sir  John  Ross;  Stobs;  Alex- 
ander Traill. 

It  is  quite  unnecessary  here  to  say  any  thing  in 
commendation  of  the  Scotish  poetical  writers,  either 
during  the  above  mentioned  period,  or  subsequently; 
much  remains  to  be  done  in  giving  a  complete  and 
correct  account  of  several  of  their  works,  especially  of 
Dunbar,  Drummond,  Henrysoun,  and  Douglass.  Any 
of  these,  it  is  likely,  would  answer,  if  done  on  a  similar 
plan  with  the  late  edition  of  Lyndsay,  which  reflects 
great  credit  to  its  learned  editor. 

The  Bannatyne  and  Maitland  coUectionsf  contain 
the  greater  part  of  the  smaller  pieces  of  early  Scotish 
poetry.  A  short  account,  and  list  of  the  contents  of 
these  manuscripts,  will  be  found  appended  to  Ancient 
Scotish  Poems,  never  before  in  print.  But  now  pub- 
lished  from  the  MS,  collections  of  Sir  Richard  Maitland 
of  Lethington,  S^c.  By  John  Finkerton.  Lond.  1786. 
2  vols.  8vo. 

*  In  1803  with  the  manuscripts  of  the  library  of  the  late  Mr. 
Ritson,  there  was  sold,  as  lot  985,  *'  Bibliographia  Scotica,  anec- 
dotes, biographical  and  literary,  of  Scotish  Writers,  Historians, 
and  Poets,  from  the  earliest  account  to  the  nineteenth  century, 
in  two  Parts,  intended  for  publication."  The  lot  was  purchased 
by  Messrs.  Longman  and  Co.  for  only  forty-three  guineas.  It  is 
understood  to  be  now  in  the  possession  ot  Mr.  G.  Chalmers  for 
completion,  and  we  may  therefore  be  certain,  that  however  the 
publication  may  be  wished,  the  tardiness  will  best  promote  that 
completion. — To  the  present  article  I  have  attached  some  slight 
notes,  distinguished  by  ray  initial,  that  our  correspondent  may  not 
be  answerable  for  their  insufficiency.  J.  H. 

f  In  reference  to  these  MSS.  the  abbreviation  of  B.  for  Ban' 
natync,  and  M.  for  Maitland,  in  the  following  list,  have  been  used. 

X  A  valuable  account  of  "  the  Bannatyne  Manuscript  is  in- 
serted in  our  present  volume,  p.  183.  H. 

The 


30^ 

Tlie  first  efforts  of  printing  in  Scotland  were  poetical. 
The  only  reiiques  of  this  press  (which  was  established 
in  Edinburgh  by  King  James  IV.  in  1507),  preceding 
the  year  1536  are  a  vol.  in  4to.  containing  Dunbar's 
Golden  Terge,  and  Lament  for  the  death  of  the 
Makkaris,  a  Gest  of  Robin  Hude,  the  Knightly  Tale 
of  Golagrass  and  Gawane,  with  twelve  other  tracts, 
all  (except  one)  in  verse.  Printed  by  Walter  Chep- 
man,  and  Andi-ou  Miller,  in  1506.  *  And  the  Aber- 
deen Breviary,  by  the  same  printers,  in  1509,  and  1510, 
2  vols,  in  sm.  8vo. 

The  principal,  and  indeed  only  collections  of  Scotish 
poetr}',  are  A  choice  Collection  of  Cvmic  and  Serious 
Scots  PoemSf  both  Ancient  and  Modern,  hy  several 
Hands,  (commonly  called  Watson's  from  the  printer) 
in  three  parts,-]-  Ed  in.  1706,  &c.  in  8vo.  The  Ever- 
grene,  being  a  Collection  of  Scots  Poems,  ivrote  by  the 
ingenious  before  1600  (inaccurately^  published  by  Allan 
Ramsay,  Edin.  1724,  2  vols,  in  12mo.  (Loi^d  Hailes's 
elegant  Selection  of)  Ancient  Scotish  Poems,  from  the 
MS.  of  George  Bannatyne,  Edin.  1770,  9>vo.%  Pin- 
kerton's Collection, above  mentioned,!]  and  J.  Sibbald's 
Chronicle  of  Scotish  Poetry,  preceding  the  Union  of  the 
Crowns.  Edin.  1802,  4  vols.  8vo.§  D.  L.  E. 

April,  1813. 

*  Some  thoughts  are  entertained  of  reprinting  as  a  fac-simila 
the  whole  volume,  in  a  limited  edition  of  150  copies. 

"t"  Part  I,  first  printed,  1706,  in  14.6  pages.  II,  1709,  contains 
»'7  pages.  III.  1711,  in  izo  pages,  having  at  conclusion  "  the 
end  of  the  first  volume."  The  plan  was  never  continued.  In 
171}  appeared  the  second  edition  of  part  I,  which  was  not  a 
verbal,  though  a  paginary  reprint.  The  following  is  from  a 
manuscript  note  by  Ritson.  "  The  2d  edition  of  the  first  part 
was  published  in  1713,  but  without  any  intentional  variation, 
except  that  in  p.  1,  instead  .of  '  King  James  the  Fifth,''  it  has 
*  King  James  the  First,''  which  is  false."  H. 

X  See  a  valuable  bibliographical  article  upon  this  volume  by  Mr* 
Gilchrist  in  the  Censura  Literaria,  Vol.  V.  p.  238.  H. 

y  Mr.  Pinkerton  has  also  published  another  work,  as  Scoiisb 
Fotms,  reprinted  from  scarce  editions,  }  vols.  1791,  8  vo.  H. 

^  To  the  above  notices  may  be  added  the  unfinished  volume 
by  the  late  Mr.  Ritson,  called  The  Caledonian  Muse,  wherein  the 
specimens  are  chronologicallyarranged,  and  divided  in  three  parts. 
It  is  my  intention  to  attempt  a  conclusion  of  the  last  part,  and 
submit  tlie  volume,  within  a  very  short  period,  to  the  candour  of 
the  >ons^  of  Caledonia,  rather  than  suiter  any  relick  of  the  ac- 
curate Ritson  to  be  lost.  H. 

■  .  Anderson, 


303 

ANDiKSoN,  James.  Minister  of  Coll^ce.  Ane  godly  tVeatis, 
calk  the  first  and  second  cumming  of  Christ,  with  the  tone  of 
the  wintersnycht.  Edin.  Robert  Smyth,  1595,  l6mo,  j  again, 
Edin.  AndroHart,  (date  cut  oft')  12mo. 

Akbuthwot,  Alexander.  Piincipal  of  King's  CxA)x^e, 
Aberdeen.    Five  poems  iu  M.  MS. 

BalneviS;  Henry,  of  Halhill.  One  Poem  in  the  B.  and 
M.  MSS.  "  Confession  of  faith,  conteining  how  the  troubled 
man  should  seeke  refuge  at  his  God  5  compiled  by  Mr.  Henry 
Balnavcs  of  Halhill,  and  one  of  the  LOrds  of  Session  and 
Counsell  of  Scotland,  being  a  prisoner  within  the  old  pallaice 
of  Roane  in  the  ycare  1584,  Edin.  Th.  VautroUicr,  1584^ 
J  2mo. 

Bannatyne,  George,  (the  compiler  of  Bannatyne  MS,) 
Two  Poems,  in  B.  MS. 

Barbour,  John,  archdeacon  of  Aberdeen.  Actesand  Life 
of  Robert  Bruce,  composed  in  1375.  The  earliest  MS.  of 
which,  that  is  now  known,  is  in  the  advocates  library.  Edit), 
■written  by  John  Ramsay  in  1489.  It  was  first  printed,  Edin. 
Andro  Hart,  1 620,  8v©.  Various  editions  have  been  since 
published.* 

BfiLtENDEN,  or  Ballentyne,  John,  Archdeacon  of  Mur- 
ray, died  at  Rome,  1550.  One  poem  in  B.  MS.  (twice  re- 
peated). Vertue  and  Vice,  as  a  proheme  to  the  Cosmographical 
part  of  his  translation  of  Hector  Boece's  Cronyklis  of  Stx)tland, 
(this  translation  was  finished  in  1530.)  Edin.  Thomas  David- 
son, 1536,  again  by  same,  1540;  and,  without  date,  all  in 
folio,  b.  1.  j  also  in  the  B.  MS.  Proheme  to  Hector  Boece,  hys 
Cronyklis  of  Scotland,  be  the  translatoure  Johne  Belienden. 
He  likewise  translated  the  first  five  books  of  Livy  "  into  Scots," 
with  a  poetical  prologue  prefixed  to  it  and  still  extant  in  MS. 

Blythe,  John.    Poem  in  the  B.  MS. 

Broun,  William.    Poem  in  the  B.  MS. 

BvREL,  John.  Two  poems,  printed  in  (Watson's)  col- 
lection. Part  II,  1709. 

Borne,  Nicol.  Translated  a  Latin  poem  of  Beza's  for 
his  "  Disputation  concerning  the  con  trover  tit  headdis  of  Re- 
ligion," Parise,  158 J,  12mo. ;  also,  at  end  of  the  same,  Ane 
Admonition  to  the  Antichristian  Ministers  of  the  defomiit 
Kirk  of  Scotland,  1581. 

CiAPPERTON.    Poem  in  the  M.  MS. 

Clerk,  John.  Three  poems  in  the  B.  MS.  Onft  of  these 
also  in  the  M.  MS.  and  ascribed  to  Dunbar. 

CuLROSE.  Elizabeth  Melvill,  Lady  Culros,  younger.  Ane 
godly  Dream,  compiled  at  the  request  of  a  speciall  friend. 

*  The  Bruce  was  printed  from  the  MS.  of  1489,  by  Mr.  Pinker- 
ton,  in  }  vols.  1790.  H. 

■   ,  ...  .............    ^^^.^ 


304 

Edin.  1603,  in  4to. — EJrn.  A.  Hart,  l620,  in  18rno.— ^/rcr- 
dene,  E.  Raban,  ]644,  8vo.  &c. 

Davidson,  Thomas.  The  excusation  of  the  Prentar,  in  five 
Stanzas,  prefixed  to  Bellenden's  translation  of  Hector  Boece. 

Davidsone,  Johne.  Ane  brief  Commendation  of  vpricht- 
nes,  &c  in  Inglis  meter,  Sanctandrois ,  R.  Lekpreuik,  1573,  4to.. 
"  A  Memorial  of  the  Life  and  Death  of  two  worthye  Chrittians, 
Robert  Campbel  of  Kinyeackugh,  and  his  wife  Elizabeth 
Campbel.  In  English  meter.  Edinburgh.  Printed  by  Robert 
Walde-graue,  printer  to  the  king's  raaiestie,  1595.  Cum 
priuilegio  Regaii."  22  leaves  in  8vo.  The  dedication  is  "  To' 
his  k'Ving  sister  in  Christ,  Eliz.  Campbel  of  Kinyeacleugh," 
and  dated  "  fr')m  Edin.  the  24th  of  May,  1595.  Your  assured 
friend  in  Christ,  I.  D."  Besides  these  two,  he  is  author  of 
some  other  works. 

Douglas,  Gawin,  bishop  of  Dunkeld.  Translation  of 
Virgil's  Mr\t\s,  Lond.  1553,  4to.*  and  with  Glossary  (by 
Thomas  Ruddiman),  Edin.  1/10,  fol.  Palice  of  Honour,  Lond. 
1553,  4to. — Edin  Johne  Ros,  for  Henrie  Cbarteris,  157y, 
4to.  &c.  Kinff  Hart,  an  Allegorycale  Poeme,  in  the  M.  MS. 

Dunbar,  Wixliam.  In  point  of  number,  the  most  ex- 
tensive writer  of  the  early  Scotish  poets,  as  his  poems  have 
been  reckoned  to  exceed  100,  which  are  chiefly  contained  iii 
the  B.  and  M.  MSS.  The  late  Mr.  Ritson  was  for  a  con- 
siderable time  employed  in  making  a  collection  of  Dunbar's 
works,  which  he  intended  to  have  published,  f 

Fethy.  Poem  in  the  B.  MS.  (Mr.  Pinkerton,  describing 
the  MS.,  says  it  is  (by  Selby.) 

Fowler,  William,  P.  (arson)  of  H.  (awicke.)  Sonnet 
prefixed  to  the  Furies,  by  K.  James  VI.  Two  MS.  vols  of 
his  poetry  are  in  the  College  Library,  Edinburgh,  which  were 
presented  by  William  Drummond  of  Hawtbornden,  in  1627. 
The  first  is  intituled  "  The  Tarantula  of  Love,"  consisting 'rif 
sonnets  in  the  manner  of  Petrarch.  The  other  vol.  in  folio,  is 
a  translation  of  the  "  Tiiumps  of  Petrarke,"  dedicated  to  Jean 
Fleming,  Lady  Thirlstane,  the  wife  of  Chancellor  Maitland, 
dated  from  Edinburgh,  Dec.  17,  1587.  "  Sonet,"  signed 
M.  W.  F.  prefixed  to  "  Essayes  of  a  Prentise,"  1584.  "  Sonet 
to  the  onely  royal  Poet,"  prefixed  to  •*  His  Maiesties  poetical 
Exercises,"  1591.  Epitaph  on  Mrs.  Bows.  Edin.  1597.     He  i& 

•  This  volume  is  noticed  by  Herbert,  p.  356;  by  Warton, 
Vol  IL  p.  281  ;  and  in  Censura  Literaria,  Vol.  III.  p.  286,  and 
Vol.  VIII.  p.  37.  In  the  Athenian  Mercury  of  Oct.  24,  1693,10 
reply  to  a  question  of  what  books  of  poetry  one  that's  young 
should  read,  there  is  reference  to  "  Douglas's  kneads  (if  you 
pn  get  it),  the  best  version  that  ever  was,  or  ever  will  be,  of  that 
incomparable  poem."  H. 

t  Select  Poems  of  mi.  Dunbar,  part  first.  From  the  M.  S.  of 
Ceorge  Eannetyne.  Perth,  ijii.  Oct.  H. 

likewise 


305 

likewise  author  of  An  Answer  to  John  Hamilton.  Edin.  1581, 
4to. 

Flemyng.  Pocni  in  the  B.  MS,  ascribed  by  Pinkerton  to 
Kennedie. 

Glencairn,  Earl  OF.  Ane  epistill  directed  from  the  holy 
Heremite  of  Allareit,  to  his  brethren  the  Gray  Friers,  (about 
ISQti)  in  Knox's  History  of  the  ReformatiQn. 

H.  G.  probably  Sir  Gilbert  Hay,  chamberlain  to  K. 
Charles  VII.  of  France,  in  154/.  Elegie  iranslatit  out  of  the 
Frenche,  in  the  M.  MS. 

.  Henky,  the  Minstrel.  Commonly  called  Blind  Harry. 
The  Actis  and  Deidis  of  the  Illuster  and  vailyend  Campion 
Schir  Williatu  Wallace,  knight  of  EUerslif .  The  oldest  MS. 
which  is  now  known,  is  in  the  Advocates  Library,  Edinburgh, 
written  by  John  Ramsay,  in  1488,  who  transcribed  in  the  fol- 
lowing year,  Barbour's  Bruce;  it  was  published,  Edin.  1570, 
1594,  1601,  4to,  ;  Edin.  Andro  Hart,  n.  d.  Ifjll,  4to. ; 
1620,  12mo  ;  Aberdeen,  l630,  12mo.  ;  Glasgow,  \QQ5, 
1690,  12mo  ;  Edin.  l673,  l2mo.  Various  editions  have  since 
been  published. 

Henkyson,  or  Henderson,  Robert.  The  Morall  Fables 
of  Esope,  the  Phrygian.  Compvled  into  eloquent  and  orna- 
mentall  Meeter,  by  Robert  Henrisonn,  sxhoole-master  of 
Dunfermling.  Newlie  revised  and  corrected.  Edinburgh, 
printed  by  Andro  Hart,  16"21,"  8vo.  They  are  chiefly  con- 
tained in  the  B.  MS. ;  also  in  the  Harleian  collection  is  the 
Morall  Fabillis  of  Esope,  compyled  be  Maister  Robert  Henry- 
son,  Scol-maister  at  Dunfermling,  1571,"  MSS.  Harl.  3865. 
His  other  poems  are  partly  in  the  B.  and  ptrtly  in  M.  MSS. 
His  Testament  of  the  Faire  Creseide,  with  the  Complaynt, 
was  first  published  with  Chaucer's  works,  1532,  fo, ;  after- 
wards, ££ii«   1593,  1611,  4to. 

Holland  the  Howlat,  [dated  from Terno way,  the  seat  of 
theearis  of  Moray,]  supposed  to  have  been  written  in  lheyearl453. 

Hudson,  Robert.  Ane  uther  Epitaph  of  the  said  Schir 
Richard  (Maitland)  in  the  M.  MS.  "  Sonet,"  signed  R.  H. 
prefixed4Q  "  Es=ayes  of  a  Prentise,"  &c.  1.^84. 

Hudson,  Thomas.  The  History  of  Judith,  in  forme  of  a 
Poeme  ;  penned  in  French  by  the  noble  poet  G.  Salust,  Lord 
of  Bartas :  Englished  by  Thomas  Hudson,  Edin.  T.  VauT 
troullier,  1584.  Svo.  Epitaph  upon  Sir  RichardMaitland,1585,in 
the  M.  MS.  Svo.  "  Sonet,"  signed  T.  H-  prefixed  to  "Essayea 
of  a  Prenrise,"  &c.  1584. 

Hume,  Alexander.  Hymnes,  or  Sacred  Sondes,  wherein 
the  right  Vse  of  Poesie  may  be  espied,  Edin.  Rob.  Walde- 
graue,  1599,  4to.*  Besides  some  other  works  in  prose,  he  i» 
esteemed  to  be  the  author  of  the  Fly tting  betwixt  Montgomerjr 
and  Pohvart.  Edin.  1629,  4to. ;  Glasgow,  lQQ5,  8yo. 

*  See  the  preceding  article.    H. 

Jamss 


306 

."Jambs  I.  King  of  Scotland.  The  following  are  generalJjr as- 
cribed to  him,  tlioush  much  has  been  both  said  and  written  to 
ibc  contrary.  The  Kings  Qaair,  MS.  in  the  Bodleian  Library, 
also  printed  by  W.  TyUer  in  his  edition  of  the  Remains  of 
James  I.  EJin.  1783,  in  8vo.  A  Song  on  his  Mistress,  after- 
wards his  Chicen,  in  M.  MS.  Christes  Kirk  on  the  Green, 
first  published  with  notes  by  Bishop  Gibson,  Oxford,  l6gi, 
4to. ;  *  Edin.  1/06,  12mo.  Peblis  to  the  Play,  in  the  M.  MS. 
Jambs  VI.  King  of  Scotland.  The  Essayes  of  a  Prentise  in 
the  Divine  art  of  Poesie.  Imprinted  at  Edinburgh  by  Thomas 
VautrouHier,  1384,  1585,  4to.  His  Maiesties  Poetical  Exer- 
eisea  at  vacant  houres,  Edinlurgh,  printed  by  Robert  Walde- 
graue  [ISgi],  4to.    Sonet,  in  the  M.  MS.,  &c.t 

•  "  Christ's  Kirk  on  the  Green"  (says  Mr.  Park),  \%  gi«en  to 
Jaxnes  the  First  of  Scotland  by  Ramsay,  Tytler,  Pinkerton,  Ellis^ 
Irving,  &c.  in  contradiction  to  the  assignment  of  Dempster, 
JBishopsGibson  and  Tanner,  Watson,  Ruddiman,  Percy,  Warton, 
Ritson,  and  Lord  Hailes."  Royal  and  Noble  Authors,  Vol.  V.  p.  19. 
The  last  assignment  is  to  James  the  Fifth,  and  Ritson  has  printed 
it  as  the  production  of  that  monarch  in  the  Caledonian  Muse. 
The  tiva  ancient  Scottish  poems,  the  Gabcrlun%ie-Man  and  Chrisfs 
Kirk  OH  the  Green,  were  printed  by  John  Callander,  esq.  of 
Craigforth,  178a,  as  "  Poems  which  tradition  ascribes  to  James. 
the  Fifth." 

James  the  Fifth  is  certainly  entitled,  to  notice  as  a  poet,  were 
there  no  other  authority  than  the  lines  quoted  by  Mr.  Park  as 
addressed  to  him  by  Sir  I)avid  Lindsay.  Ut  sup.  p.  20.  H. 

t  For  an  accurate  account  of  the  productions  of  James  the  Vlth, 
$e«  RDyal  and  N.  Authors,  by  Park,  Vol.  I.  p.  113.  His  poetical 
pieces,  written  after  he  became  king  of  the  southern  men,  seem 
intentionally  omitted  in  the  above  list;  to  which  may  be  added 
the  funeral  sonnet  written  upon  the  Chancellor  Maitland,  Lord 
Thirlstane.  That  distinguished  character  translated  *f  His  Majes- 
ties owne  Sonnet,"  iipon  the  destruction  of  the  Spanish  Ar- 
ma«la  in  1588  into  Latin  verse,  and  James  repaid  the  obligatioa 
with  a  funeral  sonnet,  which  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  happiest 
eftbrts  of  the  regal  muse.  Mr.  Park  has  printed  it  in  his  fifth 
volume,  p.  56,  observing,  that  it  **  appears  to  have  been  placed 
in  the  aisle  of  Haddington  church,  when  Monteith  published  hist 
Theatre  of  Mortality  in  1.713."  It  may  also  be  found  in  the  Edin- 
b.urgb  Magazine,  Vol.  I.  p.  i»f,  in  an  article  "  of  the  poetry  o€ 
Jame*  VI."  and  again,  in  Irvjng's  Liases  of  the  Scotish  Poets,, 
Vol.  XL  p.  2Z}.  All  the  three  copies  vary,  and  being  anglicised, 
not  of  equal  authority  with  the  following  copy  extracted  from  thft 
Hari.  MSS.  4.043,  N"  4.36. 

*'  4ne  fuaerall  Sonnet  maid,  be  hit  Ma.vpon  the  decae  of  Sir  Ibtnt 
Maitland,  Chancellor,  [oh.  i^()f\, 

,;"  Tho.w  passinger,  that  spyis  with  gaizing  eyi^ 
,  Thistrophee  sad  of  death's  triumphing  dairt, 
^     Considder  quhen  this  outward  tumbe  thow  seij. 

How  raire  a  man  leavie  hir  his  earthlie  pairt. 

His  wisdome  wd  hist  V£richtafi>  of  hairtu^ 


3or 

iNctis,  Sir  James.  General  Satire,  a  poena  in  the  M.  MS., 
but  in  the  B.  MS.  attributed  to  Dunbar.  Mackenzie  makes 
him  to  be  the  author  of  the  Complaytit  of  Scotland*. 

JoHNSTouN,  Patrick.  The  thre  Deid  Powis,  a  poem  iQ 
the  B.  MS.,  but  in  the  M,  MS.  attributed  to  Henryson. 

Karre,  Sir  Robert.  Psalmes  in  English  verses  to  the 
measures  of  the  French  and  Dutch,  in  MS.  Vide  Auctuariuca 
Bibliothecae  Gul.  Drummondi.  Edin.  1627,  in  4to. 

Kennedy,  John.  Poem  in  the  B.  MS.  Historie  of  CaUn- 
throp  and  Lucilla,  a  poetical  Romance,  Edin.  John  Wreittoup, 
1626,  12mo. 

Kennedy,  Walter,  (sometimes  called  And-^sw.)  Six 
poems  in  the  B.  and  M-  MSS. 

LicHTOUN.   Two  poems  in  the  B.  MS. 

Lynpsay,  Sir  David.  1.  The  Dreme,  composed  in  1528. 
2.  The  Complaynt,  1520.  3.  The  Complaynt  of  the  King's 
Papingo,  1530.  4.  Satire  on  the  Three  Estaits,  1535.  5.  An-» 
swer  to  the  King's  Flyting,  1530.  0.  The  Complaynt  of  Bash 
the  King's  Hound,  1530.  7.  The  Deploration  of  Queens 
Magdalene,  1537.  §•  The  Justing  of  Watson  and  Barbourj, 
1538.  9.  The  Supplication  against  Syde  Taillis,  1538.  10.  Kit- 
ties Confession,  1541.  11.  TheTragedie  of  Cardinal  A^rchbishoa 
of  St,  Androis,  David  Beaton,  1546.  12.  The  Historie  and 
Testament  of  Squyer  Meldrum,  1550.  13.  Ane  Dialog  of  the 
Miserabill  estait  of  this  World,  betwix.  Experience  and  ane 
Gourteour,  1553.  There  are  also  three  small  poqms  ascribed 
to  Lyndesay  in  the  B.  MS. 

The  most  compleat  and  accurate  edition  of  Lyndsay's  work^ 
is  that  in  3  vols.  Lo7i4.  I8O6,  8vo.  edited  by  George  Chalmers, 
esq. 

His  pietie,  his  practise  of  our  stait, 

His  quick  ingyne,  and  versed  in  euerie  airt, 

As.equallis  alJ  war  euer  at  debait. 

Then  iustlie  hes  his  death  brocht  furth  of  lait,  i 

A  heavie  greif  irv  Prince  and  subiectes,  all 

That  vertew  lovis  and  vyce  do  beare  at  hait ; 

Thocht  vitious  men  reioicis  of  his  fall. 

Thus  for  himself  most  happie  dois  he  dee, 
Thocht  for  his  prince  it  most  vnhappie  be. 

Ja.  Rex." 

From  the  poetical  exercises  there  was  selected  Ws  Majesties. 
Lepanto,  or,  Herokall  Song,  being  part  of  his  Poetical/  Exercises  at' 
'vacant  houres.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Simon  Stafford,  and  Henry, 
Hooke.  1603.  qto.  Sig.  E.  3.  There  is  prefixed  "  The  avthovr'*, 
preface  to  the  reader."  H. 

•  But  see  the  elaborate  and  valuable  dissertation  of  the  late  Dr. 
X-eydcn  before  his  Complaynt  jof  Scotland^  i?oi.  H. 

The 


308 

Tbc  following  are  a  list  of  the  early  editions.  ; 

'  Paris  (Rouen)  1558,  4to.  and  12rao. ;  Lond.  1566;* 
£^m.  1568,  1571,  1574j  Lond.  1575,  1581;  Edin.  1582', 
1588,  1592,  1597,  1604,  all  in  4to.}  Edin.  iQlO,  and  l6l4, 
8V0.J  Eilin.  1630,  and  l634,  l2mo. 

The  above  editions  generally  contain  the  whole,  except 
N*s4andl2. 

N°  3  was  printed  at  Lond.  by  John  Byde,  1538,  4to. 

N°  1,  2,  3,  and  11,  separately  at  St.  Androis  (St.  Andrews), 
by  John  Skott,  15Sg,  all  in  4to.  'I 

N"  11,  at  Lond.  by  Day,  [1546]  12mo. 

N"  13,  Lond.  by  Thos.  Purfoote,  1566,  4to. 

N"  12,  at  Edin.  by  H.  Charteris,  1*94,  4to.  j  again,  by 
R.  Lawson,  1610,  8vo. 

]Sr  4,  at  Edin.  by  Robert  Charteris,  l602,t  and  l604,  4to, 

Maitland,  John,  Lord  Thirlstane,  Second  son  of  Sir 
Rd.  Maitland.   Two  Poems  in  the  M.  MS. 

Maitlakb,  Sir  Richard,  of  Lethington.  40  Poems  in  the 
M.  MS. ;  26  have  been  printed  by  Pinkerton,  and  one  from 
the  B.  MS.  in  Ramsay's  Evergreen. 

Maitland,  Mary,  third  daughter  of  Sir  Richard  M. 
marriexl  Alex.  Lauder  of  Hattoun.    Poem  in  the  M.  MS. 

Mersar.  Two  Poems  in  the  B.  and  M.  MSS. 

MoFFETT,  Sir  John.    Two  Poems  in  the  B.  MS. 

Montgomery,  Alexander.  A  "  Sonet"  with  his  initials 
before  the  "  Essayes  of  a  Prentise,"  &c.  1584.  The  Cherrie 
and  the  Slae,  Edin.  1597,  4to. ;  again,  newly  perfected  before 
tlie  author's  death,  £dm.  I6l5.  12mo.  :  many  editions  have 
been  since  printed  :  it  was  translated  into  Latin,  and  published, 
at  Arct.  1638,  and  Edin.  1696,  both  12nio,J   Two  Poems  in 

the 

•  Gr/tJ.  Li/fr^zrw,  Vol.  VII.  p.  113.  H. 

t  Bibl.  Wright,  1787,  No.  1357.  Lyndsay's  Satires,  in  quarto, 
Edin.  1631,  probably  a  mistake  for  1602. 

X  Ritson  in  the  Caledonian  Muse,  already  noticed,  has  reprinted 
**thc  Cherry  and  the  Slae"  from  "  the  Evergreen,"  with  ttie  fol- 
lowing note  :  "  This  poem  is  said  to  have  been  written  in  1590. 
Ramsay  retis  us  that  his  edition  is  taken  from  two  curious  old 
ones,  the  first  printed  by  Robert  Walgrave,  the  king's  printer  in 
1597,  according  to  a  copy  corrected  by  tlie  author  himself,  the 
other  by  Andro  Hart,  printed  1615,  said  on  the  title  page  to  be 
newly  altered,  perfyted,  and  divided  into  1 14  quatuorzeims,  not 
long  before  the  author's  death.'  Captain  Montgomery  was  not, 
as  is  genenilly  supposed,  the  inventor  of  this  kind  of  stanza.  He 
only  imitated  a  more  ancient  piece  called  The  Banks  of  Helicon, 
which  is  still  extant." 

However  it  seems  to  have  escaped  the  notice  of  Ritson  that 
K.  James  ^quoted  the  Chcriy  and  the  Slae  in  the  Revlis  and 

Cavtelit 


509 

♦be  M,  MS.  Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  presented  to  the 
fcoliege  Library  (along  with  the  rest  of  his  library),  a  large 
collection  of  Montgomery's  Poems,  ten  of  which  only  have 
been  published  in  Sibbald's  Chronicle,  Vol.  III. 

Montgomery,  Robert,  sometime  Archbishop  of  Glasgow. 
Two  Poems  in  the  B.  MS.  along  with  a  version  of  the  fir^t 
and  twenty-third  Psalmes. 

Napier,  John.  To  the  various  editions  of  his  Plaine  Dis- 
covery of  the  Revelation  of  St.  John  (first  printed  at  Edinburgh, 
i5g3,  in  4to  ,  where  the  fifth  and  la)>t  edition  was  likewise 
printed  in  16^5),  is  prefixed  An  Address  to  Antichrist  of  24 
lines,  under  this  title, 

"  The  book  this  bill  sends  to  the  beast 
Craving  amendment  now  in  heast,'* 

with  a  poetical  version  of  certain  notable  prophecies,  extract 
out  of  the  bookes  of  Sibylla." 

NoRNALL,  Robert.  His  Mirroure  of  anc  Christian,  (in 
verse),  £^i«.  R.  Lekpreuike,  156l,4to. 

NoRVAL.   Poem  in  the  B.  MS. 

RoLLAND,  John.  Ane  Treatise  callit  the  Court  of  Venus, 
devidil  into  four  Buikes,  Edin.  Johnne  Ros,  157.5,  4to.  The 
Sevin  Seages,  translatit  out  of  Prois  into  Scottis  meiter, 
Edin,  pr.  by  J.  Ros,  for  Henrie  Chartcris,  15/8,  4to.  i  again, 
Edin.  by  the  heirs  of  Andro  Hart,  l631,  8vo. 

RowL.    There  appear  to  have  been  two  writers  of  this 

Ca'vtelis  of  Scottis  Poeiie,  1584.  In  describing  the  verse  that  may 
be  used  in  love  matters,  he  says,  "  also  all  kyndis  of  cuttir  and 
brokin  verse,  quhairof  ntw  formes  are  daylie  inuentit  according 
to  the  poetis  pleasour,  as 

"  Qiiha  wald  haue  tyrde  to  heir  thnt  tone, 
Quhilk  birds  corroborat  ay  abone 

Through  schouting  of  the  laikis  ? 
They  sprang  sa  heich  into  the  skyes 
Qnhill  Cupide  walknis  with  the  cryis 

Of  Naturis  chapell  clarkis. 
Then  leaning  all  the  heauins  aboue 

He  lichted  on  the  card, 
Lo  how  that  lytill  god  of  lone. 

Before  me  then  appeard. 

And  ch  ddV  k        ^''^  ^^"^  '^""^  quarters  skant 

Somoylie  He  lukit  lyke  a  sant." 

And  coyhe  ^ 

This  is  the  sixth  stanza  in  the  poem,  and  as  it  was  well  known 
that  Montgomery's  "  poetical  talents  procured  him  the  patronage 
of  his  Sovereign,"  it  was  perhaps  one  of  the  pieces  communicated, 
in  manuscript,  which  obtained  him  that  notice.  See  Irvixig's  Lives, 
Vol.  II.  p.  185,  H. 

VOL.  IV.  y  name 


name,  but  it  is  uncertain  to  which  the  poem  in  the  B.  and  Jd. 
ifiSS.  belongs. 

ScHAW,  QuiNTiM.  Po'^m  in  the  B.  MS. 

Scot,  Alexander.  Thirty  three  P<;ems  in  the  B.  MS., 
one  of  which  is  also  found  in  the  M.  MS. 

Selby.  Poem  in  the  B.  MS. 

Sbmple,  or  Sempill,  Robert.  Tliree  Poems  in  the  B.  MS. 
besides  four  others,  printed  at  Edin.  in  15^0,  71.  72,  and  73, 
in  folio.  He  is  likewise  supposed  to  be  the  author  of  Philotus, 
Edin.  R.  Charteris,  l603  ;  again,  Edin.  I6l2,  4to.  ;  1682, 
]2mo. 3  reprinted  by  Pinkerion,  1792.* 

Stuaut,  or  Stewakt.  There  appear  to  have  been  scA'eral 
poets  of  this  name  about  the  middle  of  the  l6th  century..    In 

*  There  were  reprinted  in  July  last  a  few  copies  of  the  poem 
called  7he  Sege  of  the  castel  of  Edinburgh.  Imprentit  at  Edinburgh 
b«  Robert  Lehpreuik,  Anno  M  D.  Ixxjjj.  It  is  subscribed  '•  Quod 
Sempill;'"  and  in  justice  to  the  ingenious  ysur.g  bookseller  who 
has  edited  it,  and  who  obliged  me  with  a  copy,  I  shall  give  the 
conclusion  of  his  prefixture,  relative  to  the  author. 

**  Spotswood  mentions  the  "  Masters  of  Ruthven  and  Semple" 
as  being  among  the  hostages  entered  in  Bartvick,  as  pledges  for 
the  fulfilment  of  the  articles  agreed  to  between  the  Regent  and 
the  English,  respecting  the  siege.  That  the  above  mentioned 
persons  were  the  Lords  Ruthven  and  Semple  there  can  be  little 
doubt,  nor  is  it  likely  that  any  but  persons  ot  rank  would  be  given 
as  hostages  on  «ich  an  occasion  }  We  learn  by  the  two  following 
"versc  8  that  the  author  was  not  present  at  the  siege  : 

Hot  Hume  wes  first  that  ouir  the  walis  wan. 
As  I  heir  say  I  wes  not  thair  my  sell. 

And  there  is  every  appearance  of  his  being  at  Berwick  when  he 
wrote  the  poem,  from  the  two  first  lines  : 

Buschme't  of  Beruik  mak  zow  for  the  ga^it. 

To  ring  zour  drunjis  and  rank  zour  me  of  weir,  &c. 

These  circumstances  would  seem  to  identify  Lord  Semple  as  the 
author  of  the  following  poem  :  his  other  printed  works  are  as  fol- 
low:— The  Regentis  Tragedie  (17  nine-line  stanzas).  Quod 
Robert  Sempil,  Lekprcuik,  1570.  In  the  Duke  of  Roxburghe's 
collection  of  Ballads,  Vol.  III.— The  Bischopis  Lyfe  and  Testa- 
ment, Quod  Sempil  (four  leaves).  Striuiling,  1571V — My  Lord 
Methvenis  Trage.iie  (24.  nine  line  stanzas).  Quod  Sempil.  Sanct 
Andrws,  i^jt.— Philotus,  a  play,  is  also  supposed  to  have  been 
written  t>y  him,  besides  several  small  pieces  published  by  Ramsay 
in  his  Evcrj^reen,  remarkable  for  nothing  but  their  obscenity. 
From  his  printed  works  it  may  he  observed,  that  after  the  year 
1570,  he  drops  his  christian  name,  and  signs  himself  merely 
Sempl.  As  his  father  died  some  time  in  the  year  1570,  he  sue- 
ceedtrd  to  his  titles,  which  were  confirmed  hy  charter,  December 
15,  1571.  (See  Douglas's  Peerage,  new  edition),  and  this  satis- 
factorily explains  the  above  circumstance."  H. 

the 


ihe  B.  and  M.  MSS.  several  of  their  poems  are  to  be  found. 
Prefixed  to  the  Confession  of  Faith,  Edin.  R.  Lekpreuik, 
1565,  in  8vo.  is  a  Sonnet  (14  lines),  "  William  Stewart  to 
the  Church  of  Scotland." 

Stewakt,  J.  of  Baldyneis.  A  vol.  of  his  Poems  in  folio, 
which  had  been  presented  by  the  author  to  King  James  VI,, 
was  purchased  for  the  Advocate's  Library,  Edinburgh,  at  the 
Duke  of  Roxburghe's  sale,  1812.* 

C.  ' 

♦  It  is  a  small  folio,  in  old  gilt  binding,  with  the  initials  of 
King  James  on  the  sides,  to  whom  it  was  presented  ;  and  is 
written  in  a  very  neat  and  distinct  manner.  From  the  following 
note,  in  the  beginning,  by  John,  Earl  of  Roxbiirghe,  it  appears 
to  have  be-sn  for  a  considerable  time  in  that  family;  "  Roxburghe. 
King  James  (VI.  of  Scotland),  y^  first  brought  this  booke  with 
him  out  of  Scotland."  Its  title  is  "  Ane  Abregement  of  Roland 
Furious.  Translatit  out  of  Ariost.  Togither  with  sum  Rapsodies 
of  the  Author's  Zouthfull  Braine.  And  last,  Ane  schersing  out 
of  trew  felicitie.  Composit  in  Scotis  Meitir  be  J.  Stewart  of 
Baldy~ncis."  After  28  lines.  "  To  the  rycht,  hich,  and  michtie 
prence,  James  the  Sext,  Kyng  of  Scotla'd."  The  Induction, 
Direction,  Dedication,  Sonnet,  and  Invocation,  follows  the 
"  Abregement"  of  "  Ariost,"  upon  100  pages.  Then  the 
•<  Rapsodies  of  the  Authors  Zouthfuli  Braine,"  containing  66 
Sonnets,  &c.  upon  80  pages.  *'  To  his  majestic  vith  presentatio 
of  this  Volume.  Sonnet,"  14  lines — *'  Ane  schersing  out  of  trew 
felicitie"  on  97  pages,  and  the  volume  concludes  with 

"  His  fairnxjeill  to  the  Musis. 

"  Fairweill  my  toynses  trembling  strings, 
Fairweill  the  source  quhair  poems  springs, 
Fairweill  brycht  purpour  Pean  fair^ 
And  all  thy  sisters  sueit  that  sings, 
On  pleasand  pernass  mont  preclair. 

Fairweill  my  Versis  Varpit  vrang, 
Fairweill  the  harpe  quhairon  I  sang, 
Fairweill  my  Muse  that  meed  me  mont, 
Fairweill  for  I  have  hawe  serwed  zow  lang, 
Quhill  both  my  brains  ar  bruist  and  blpnt. 

Go  scherse  sum  pregnant  spreit  perfy^ 
Quho  in  your  douceur  dois  delyt 
And  neither  nycht,  Nor  day,  Vill  spair, 
For  to  declair  sum  dew  Indyt 
In  Vorship  of  zow  Nymphis  fair, 

Bot  sum  dois  dalle  dolor  drie 

For  till  obtein  The  laurell  trie 

And  thocht  ane  Branche  thairof  thay  pull 

Most  meschant  mouth  of  Momus  flie 

Of  sum  Reprotche  Vill  ay  be  full. 

Y  *  Qunba 


512 

Steill,  Dav^t).  Two  Poems  in  the  B.  MS.  He  is  sup-* 
posed  by  Pinkerton  to  be  the  author  of  *  The  thrie  tales  of 
the  thrie  priests  of  Peblis ;  contayning  many  notabill  examples 
and  sentences,  Edin.  Rob.  Cbarteris,  l603,  bl.  1.  4to.  Sibbald, 
however,  ascribes  it  to  Holland. 

~ Thomas,  of _£iia;2i4Qitfi€,JLhc_Rhyiner,  SirTristrem,  a 
metrical  romance,  was  &rst  published,  1804,  8vo.  edited  by 
Walter  Scott,   Esq, 

W.  M.  subscribed  to  a  sonnet  before  theEssayes  of  a  Prentise, 
&c.  1584, 

WatsoNj  Allan.    Poem  in  the  B.  MS. 

"Wkddbfborn.  Three  Poems  in  the  B.  MS.  He  is  gene* 
l^lly  allowed  to  be  the  author  of  '  Are  Compendious  Bulk  of 
Godly  and  Spiritual  Sange»,  colleciit  out  of  sundrye  partes  of 
the  Scripture,  w-iflr  sundrye  other  Ballates  changeit  out  of 
propboine  languis  in  godly  Sangis  fwr  avoyding  of  Sin  and 
Harlotry,  Edin.  about  15^7,  J2mo.  With  augmentation  of 
syndrye  gudc  and  godly  Ballates  not  con  tenet  in  the  first 
edition.  Edin.  Rob.  Sniith,  l600.  By  Andro  Hart,  l621, 
12mo.  A  specimen  of  the  last  published  by  Lord  Hailes, 
Edin.  1765,  8vo.  And  the  tvhole  repubHshed  by  J.  Gr. 
paJyell,  Esq.  with  the  Scotish  Poems  of  the  iSth  cent.  Edin, 
1801,  2  vols.  12roo.  > 


Quhan  lustie  ^tvus  Veil!  did  dajire 
Bsfoir'the:(7o«/.f  this  charlt?  be  chance 
Vas  present  than  to  hit^Mishap 
Quod  he  quhar.  all  d'dliir  awance 
Hir  Sandals  dois  ower  loudlie  clap. 


i\y-j 


f  dout  no  thing  to  find  also 
.-  This  curshit  Cativve  for  my  fo. 
In  finding  f.iult  vith  this  or  that, 
Bot  zite  1  cair  him  nocht  ane  stro 
My  King  vill  veill  protect  my  plat. 

-.  ,   Quhois  sacred  thespian  Science  rair 
''Bebatht  in  source  Castalia  fair^ 
Arrouse  sail  all  my  Roustie  ryrae 
And  vith  Pegasian  spring  preclair 
Clcine  clcinge  the  same  from  ewirie  cryme. 

For  as  BelUrotbon  so  Stout 
From  Lycia  dang  the  monsters  out, 
And  hrocht  curut  Chimcre  to  ane  end, 
Xwen  so  bis  grace  I  do  nocht  dout 
Sail  Tbenitf  flcnuy  and  me  defend. 

J.S. 
This  volume  appears  to  have  been  written  after  1573,  as  there 
are  two  Sonnets  to  Xing  James,  on  New  Years  Day,   1572  and 
»S73»  D.  L.  E. 

WYNTOWiT/ 


313 

Wyntowk,  Andrew.  Chronykil.  That  part  which  relate*  to 
Scotland  was  published  in  17Q5,  2  vols.  8vo.  edited  by  Mr. 
M'Pherson.  D.  L.  E.* 


^  yi  trve  reportarie  of  the  most  trivmphant,  and  royal 
accomplishment  of  the  Baptisme  of  the  most  ex- 
cellent,  riaht  high,  and  mightie  Prince^  Frederik 
Henry ;  ^y  the  grace  of  God,  Prince  of  Scotland. 
Solemnized  the  !iO  day  of  August,  1594*  Printed 
ly  R  Walde-graue,  Printer  to  the  K.  Maiestie. 
Cum  Priuilegio  Regali.  qto.  15  leaves. 

The  "  exercises  that  wer  to  be  vsed  for  decoration  of 
that  solemn i tie,  were  to  be  deuided  both  in  fceld  pastimes, 
with  inartiall  and  heroicall  exploites,  and  in  houshold,  with 
rare  shewes  and  singular  inventions, 

"  The  fceld  to  be  vsed  at  two  seucrall  dayes :  the  first  to  bb 
of  three  turks,  three  christian  knights  of  Malta,  thrpelA.ma- 
zones,  and  three  Mores.  But  by  reason  of  the  absence,  ot^at 
the  least,  the  vncertain  presence  of  tjie  three  last  gentlemen, 
who  should  haue  sustained  these  personages,  it  was  thought 
good  that  the  number  of  that  mask  shuld  consist  of  nyng 
actors,  nyne  pages,  and  uyne  Lackies,  which  conaming  from 

*  The  same  correspondent  has  furnished  us  with  the  following 
Latin  verses  by  an  unknown  writer,  taken  from  a  fly-leaf  to  Cw, 
l.amberJi  dt  f>riscis  Anghrum  legibus  liber.  Lond.  1568,  4-to. 

"  Ad  Aucforem. 

*'  Vis  vetercs  leges,  et  vis  ab  origine  prima 

Discere  quos  ritijs  Anglica  terra  tulit  ?  « 

Vltima  Saxigenum  vis  noscere  temp'ora  Regura, 

et  qu«  pnncipio  normaqne  lexque  fuit  ? 
Hrc  lege  quae  cJara  Lambardus  luce  reponit 

e  pigro  excutiens  scripts  vetusta  situ. 
Dilituere  diu  veterum  h:ec  monumenta  virorunit 

Saxonico  quondam  cognita  sola  sono  ; 
Et  nisi  f>crvigilis  Lambardi  pura  fuisset, 

Vsque  sub  obscura  nube  iaceret  opus. 
Quae  nunc  culta  vides  docto  Latioque  nitort 

Lambardi  dedit  haec  ingeniosa  manusj 
Ingeniosa  mailus  mens  et  pra;stantior  ilia, 

Jesudant  patrix  commoda  quanta  tuse. 
Q^od  patriae  prosis  quod  sic  sis  vtilis  ergo 

X^us  tua,  Lambarde,  e«t,  ct  labor  iile  tuut,** 

T.  V, 
•uodry 


314 

-A. 

sundry  parts  and  at  diners  times  together  with  the  di«ersuie  of 
th^ir  apparell,  should  bring  sotne  tioueltie  to  the  bchoulders. 

"  Tlie  place  most  expedient  for  this  action  was  the  valey, 
neere  the  Castel,  which  being  prepared  for  that  purpose  both 
with  carier  and  scaffold,  after  the  comming  of  the  Queene's 
Maiestie  with  her  honorable  and  gallant  Ladies,  together  with 
the  honorable  Ambassadors,  the  field  beeing  beset  by  the  brau© 
Yorkers  of  Edinburgh  with  their  hagbutes,  during  the  whole 
time  of  that  pastyme. 

"  Then  three  Christians  entered  the  fielde  with  sound  of 
trumpet,  who  were  the  King's  Maiesty,  the  ErllofMarr,  and 
Thomas  Erskine,  (genileraan  of  his  maiesties  chalroer)  who 
made  vp  this  noraber.  A  little  after  followed,  three  apparelled 
lyke  Turkes,  verie  gorgeouslie  attyred  ;  and  these  were  the 
Duke  of  Lennox,  the  Lord  Home,  and  Sir  Robert  Ker  ofCes- 
furde,  knight.  Last  of  all  came  in  three  amazones,  in  womens 
attyre,  verie  sumptuouslie  clad,  and  these  were  the  I,ord  of 
Lendores,  the  laird  of  Barclewch,  and  the  Abbote  of  Holie- 
rood  house.  So  all  these  r>ersons  beeing  present  and  at  their 
cntrie  making  their  reverence  to  the  Queene's  Maiesty,  Am- 
bassadors and  I^adies,  having  their  pages  ryding  vpon  their 
led  horse,  and  on  their  left  armes  bearing  their  maisters  im- 

prese  or  deuice And  euerie  Lackie  carying  in   his   hand 

his  Maister's  launce,     Tliey  began  their  pastyme  by  running 
at  the  ring  and  gloue  :  The  laws  whereof  were  these. 

"  First,  that  all  the  persons  of  this  pastime,  compeare 
masked,  and  in  such  order  as  the  come  into  the  field,  so 
to  run  out  all  their  courses.  Secondlie,  that  none  vse  anie 
other  ring,  but  that  which  is  put  vp  :  and  vse  no  other  launce, 
but  that  which  they  haue  brought  for  themselves.  Thirdlie, 
hee  that  twise  touches  the  ring,  or  stirres  it,  winneth  as  mnch 
as  if  he  caried  away  the  ring,  Fourthlie,  he  that  lets  his  launce 
fall  out  of  his  band  is  depryued  of  all  the  rest  of  bis  courses. 
Fiftlie,  that  euerie  one  run  with  loose  raines,  and  with  as  much 
speed  as  his  horse  hath.  SixtUe,  that  none  aftei  his  race  in  vp- 
taking  of  his  horse  lay  his  launce  vpon  his  shoulder,  vnder  the 
pain  of  Insse  of  that  which  he  hath  done  in  his  course. 
Seuintblic,  hee  that  carieth  not  his  launce  vnder  his  arme, 
looseth  his  course.  Eightlie,  that  none  vntil  his  three  courses 
be  ended,  change  his  horse,  if  hee  bee  not  hurt,  or  vpon  some 
other  consideration  mooued  to  change  him.  These  laws  being 
seen  and  approued  by  the  actors,  the  Queene's  Maiestie,  signi- 
fied vnto  them,  that  he  who  did  run  best  should  have  for  his 
rewarde,  a  faire  and  rich  ring  of  diamonds :  and  hee  also,  who 
on  that  same  side  had  best  fortune  in  running  he  »liu)d  be  ac- 
knowledged with  another  as  fair  as  the  first.  The  proofe  hereof 
'Bcjng  made  the  victorie  fcl  to  the  Duke  of  Lennox,  who  bring- 
v--^-'  inj 


315 

ing  it  to  his  side  &:  pairtie,  liad  the  praise  and  pTJse  adiiidged  t© 
himself.  1  hus  the  first  daye's  pastime  was  ended,  with  great 
contentment  to  the  beholders,  and  commendation  of  the  per- 
«on.s  enterprysers." 

On  the  second  day  the  baptismal  ceremony  was  performed, 
and  about  eight  of  the  clock  at  night  the  banquet  commenced 
in  the  great  hall.  "  After  a  while,  Ixauing  well  refreshed 
Ihemselues  with  the  first  seruice,  which  was  very  sumptuous, 
there  came  into  the  sight  of  them  ail,  a  Black-Moore,  drawing 
(as  it  seemed  to  the  beholders)  a  triiimphall  chariot  (and  \  efore 
it,  the  melodious  noyse  of  trumpets  aud  howboyes)  which 
chariot  entered  the  hall,  the  motion  of  the  wliole  frame  (whicii 
was  tweluc  foote  long,  and  seuen  foot  broad)  was  so  artificial 
within  it  selfe,  that  it  appeared  to  be  drawen  in,  oneJy  by  the 
strength  of  a  Moore,  which  was  very  richly  attyred,  his  traces 
were  great  chaines  of  pure  gold.  Vpon  this  chariot  was  finely 
and  artificially  dcuised,  a  sumptuous  couered  tablr,  decked 
with  all  sortes  of  exquisite  delicates  and  dainties,  of  pattisseiie, 
frutages,  and  confections.  About  the  table  were  placed  six 
gallant  dames,  who  represented  a  silent  couiedit-,  ihr^e  of  them 
clothed  in  argentyne  saten,  and  three  in  crimson  saten  :  all 
these  six  garments  were  enriched  with  togue  and  tinsal  of  pure 
gold  and  siluer  euery  one  of  them  hauing  a  crowne  or  garland 
on  their  heades  vtry  richly  decked  wiih  fethers  pearles  and 

jewels  vpon  their  louse  haire  in  ajiticu  fvrma This  chariot 

which  siiould  haue  bene  drawn  in  by  a  lyon,  (but  because  his 
presence  might  h;iue  brought  some  teare  lo  th«  neerest,  or  that 
the  sight  of  the  lights  and  torches  might  have  commoued  his 
tamenes)  it  was  thought  mt-et  that  the  Moore  should  supply 
tl'at  roome  J  and  so,  he  in  outwarde  shewe  preassed  to  draw 
that  forward,  which  by  a  secret  convoy  was  brought  to  the 
prince's  table,  and  the  whole  desert,  was  deliuered  by  Ceres, 
Foccunditie,  Faith,  Concord,  Libcralitie,  and  f'erseverance, 
[whom  the  six  dames  personated]  to  the  erles,  lords,  and 
barons,  that  were  sewers. 

"  Presently  after  the  returning  of  the  chariot  entered  a  most 
eumpteous  artlficiall  and  wel  proportioned  ship  :  the  length  of 
her  keele  was  18  toot,  and  her  bredth  8  foote  :  from  her  hot- 
tome  to  her  highest  tlagge,  was  40  foot :  the  •.ea  shee  stoode 
vpon,  was  24  loot  long,  with  bredth  convenient:  her  motion 
was  so  artificially  devised  within  hersf-lf,  that  none  could  per- 
ceuie   what    brought  her  in.     I'lie  sea  vnder  her,  was  liuely 

counterte  t,  with  all  colours Her  ordinan.re  was  3^)  peeces 

of  brasse,  brauely  mounted  and  her  anchors  siluer  gilt 

Her  mariners  were  in  number  six  apparelled  all  in  changeable 
Spanish  taffataes,  and  her  pilote  in  cloth  of  gold,  he  alone 
stood  at  the  helme,  who  only  mooucd  and  gouerned  the  whole 
frame  both  the  ship  and  her  burden  very  artificially.    The  mu- 

sitions 


316 

sit\or.<  xriihin  the  same  were  14  all  apparelled  in  taflfataes  of 
his  Maiesiies  coilors,  besides  Arion  with  his  harp.  Being  thus 
prepared  at  the  sound  of  trumpets  she  approached,  and  at  the 
next  sound  of  Triton's  wilk  trumpe  together  with  the  master's 
whistle  sbee  made  sayle  till  shee  came  to  the  table,  discharging 
the  ordinance  in  her  sterne  by  the  way.  [This  was  the  king's 
invention.  There  were  delivered  to  the  sewers]  all  sortes  of 
fishes:  as  hearinges,  whytinjjs,  flookes,  oysters,  buckles,  lam- 
pets,  partans,  lapsters,  crabs,  spout-fish,  clammes,  with  other 
infinit  things  made  of  suger,  and  most  liuely  rrpresented  in 
their  owne  shape.  And  whiles  the  ship  was  unloading,  Arion 
sitting  vpon  the  galley-nose,  which  resembled  the  form  of  a 
dolphin  fish,  played  vpon  bis  harp  :  then  began  her  musike  in 
green  holyne  howboyes  in  iiue  partes.     After  that  followed 

vioUs  with  voices  in  plaine  counter  pointe After  which 

ensued  a  stil  noyse  of  recorders  and  flutes ;  and  for  the 
fourth  a  generall  consort  of  the  best  instruments.  So  this 
Enterlude,  drawing  neere  to  an  end,  in  the  verie  last  courses 
was  discouered  this  sentence  likewise.  Sulmissus  adorat 
occeanus,  inferring  that  the  occean  sea,  by  otfering  the 
shapes  of  her  treasure  humblie  adored  and  honoured  the 
sitters.  And  when  in  this  time,  all  the  banket  was  done,  after 
thanks  being  giuen,  there  was  sung  with  most  delicate  dulce 
voices  and  sweet  harmoniein  7  partes,  the  128  psalme,  with 
14  voices.  And  that  benig  done,  at  the  sound  of  Triton's  wilk 
trumpet  and  the  pilote's  whistle  she  wayed  anchor,  made  sailc 
and  with  noise  of  howboyes  and  trumpets  retyred,  and  then 
discharged  the  rest  of  her  ordinance  to  the  great  admiration  of 
the  beholders.  After  all  which  pastime  and  sport  with  merry 
«nd  ioyfuU  repast,  the  King  and  Queenes  Maiesties,  after  other 
offices  of  honour  and  respect,  the  plage  being  prepared  for  the 
reucls  and  the  persons  appointed  fo?  the  sam?,  dischargeing 
themselucs  sufficiently." 

J.  H. 


f  .4n  excellent  Epitaffe  of  s^r  Thomas  Wyat^  with 
two  other  compeiidiousi  dyttteSf  wher'm  are  touchydf 
and  set  furth  the  state  ofvuannes  lyfe. 

'  This  poetical  quarto  tract,  without  date,  consists  of 
only  four  leaves.  The  above  is  a  head-title  of  Sig.  A.  i. 
over  the  portrait  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyat,  in  a  circle,  as 
al&o  given  in  the  NtC7iia.     The  Epiiaph  follows, 

**  Wyat 


sir 

"'  Wyat  resteth  here,  that  quicke  could  neuer  risst. 
Whose  heuenly  gyfics,  encreased  by  dysdayne. 
And  venue  sanke  tfie  dcper  in  his  brest, 
Suche  profyte  he  of  eiiuy  could  optayne. 

A  bead,  where  wysdom  mysteries  dyd  frame 
Whose  hammers  beat  styll  iti  that  lyuely  braync. 

As  on  a  styih,  where  some  worke  of  Fame 

Was  dayly  wrought,  to  turne  to  Brytayu's  gaine. 

A  vysage  steme  and  mylde,  where  both  dyd  groo^ 
Vycc  to  contempne,  in  vertues  to  reioyce, 

Amyd  great  stormcs,  whome  grace  assured  soo. 
To  lyuc  vprighte  and  simple  at  fortune's  choyse. 

A  hand,  that  taught  what  might  be  saide  in  rime. 
That  refte  Chaucer  the  glorye  of  his  wytte, 

A  marke,  the  whiche  (vnperfited  for  tyme) 
Some  may  approche  but  neuer  none  shall  hyt. 

A  tonge,  that  serued  in  foraine  realmes  his  king. 
Whose  curtoise  taike,  to  vertu  dyd  enflame, 

Echft  noble  harte  a  worthy  guyde  to  brynge 
Our  Englysshe  youth,  by  trauayle  vnto  fame. 

An  eye,  whose  iudgement  no  affect  coulde  blind, 
Frcndes  to  allure,  and  foes  fo  reconcyle, 

"Whose  pearcynge  looke  dyd  represent  a  mynde. 
With  vertuc  fraught,  reposed,  voyde  of  gyle. 

A  harte,  where  drede  yet  neuer  so  imprest, 

To  hid*  the  thought  y«.  might  the  trouth  auaunce. 

}n  neyther  fortnnc  lyfte,  nor  so  represt. 

To  swell  in  welth,  nor  yelde  vnto  mischaunce.  ^ 

A  valiaunt  corps,  where  force  and  beautye  met, 
'  Happy,  alas,  to  happy  but  for  foos, 

Lyued,  and  ran  the  race  that  nature  set. 

Of  manhode's  shape,  where  she  the  mold  did  loos. 

But  to  the  heauens  that  symple  soule  is  fleed. 

Which  lefte  with  such  as  couet  Christe  to  knowe, 

Witnes  of  faith  that  neuer  shalbe  deade. 
Sent  for  our  welth,  but  not  receiucd  so. 

Thus  for  our  gylt,  this  iewell  haue  we  lost. 

The  earth  his  bones,  the  heuen  possesse  his  goost." 

Then  follow  "  The  Myrroure  or  Glasse  of  Fortune," 
in  nine  octave  stanzas,  and  "  A  compendious  dittie, 
wherin  is  touched  the  state  of  ma's  lyfe/'  in  1 10  lines, 
thus  concluding : 

**  The  iuste  men  shall  lyue  by  theyr  good  belefe  i  •-, 

And  shall  haue  a  place  where  can  be  no  grefe. 

But 


318 

But  gladnesse  and  myrth  that  none  can  amende, 

Vnspeakabie  ioyes,  whiche  ncuer  shall  ende. 
With  pleasures  that  passe  all  that  we  haue  sought. 

Felicities  such  as  cannot  be  thought. 

Whiche  place  they  shall  haue,  that  his  wyll  intendes, 

"With  lyfc  euerlastynge,  and  thus  my  tale  endes. 

Fiuit  post  fun  era  uirtus. 

Imprynted  at  London  by  lohn  Herforde  for  Roberta  Joye." 

J.H. 


■[  The  Commendation  of  Cockes,  and  Cock-fighting. 
Wherein  is  shewed,  that  Cocke-fighting  was  before 
the  comniing  of  Christ.  London,  printed  for  Henrie 
Tomes,  and  are  to  he  sold  at  his  shop  ouer  against 
Grates  Inne  gate  in  Holburne.  1607.  qto.  15  leaves. 

By  the  dedication  "  to  the  right  worshipfull  Sir  Henrie 
Bedingfield  in  the  coimtic  of  Norftolke  knight,  Geoige  Wilson 
•wisheth  in  this  world,  health,  wealth,  and  prosperitie  :  and 
in  the  world  to  come,  eternall  felicitie." 

A  short  epistle  "  to  the  reader  whosoever."  This 
treatise  is  divided  into  six  chapters,  and  commences 
as  follows  with  the  creation  : 

•*  It  is  written  in  tbs  first  chapter  of  the  first  booke  of 
Moses,  called  Geiresis  :  that  God  gaue  vnto  nt:an  soueraigntie, 
rule,  and  diminio  ouer  the  fishes  in  the  sea,  ouer  the  fowles 
of  the  air;  and  ouer  euery  liuing  thing  that  he  had  made: 
and  behold,  it  was  exceeding  good,  and  was  appointed  vnto 
man  for  to  doe  him  homage  and  to  fierue  him  in  all  places, 
and  times,  in  his  seuerall  and  neces^iary  vses,  and  not  onely  for 
clothing  and  sustenance  f(jr  his  bodie  j  but  ^Iso  for  recreation 
and  pastime,  to  delight  his  minde  :  as  w  ith  cocke-fighting, 
hawking,  hunting,  and  such  like.  For  honest  recreation  is 
not  proliibited  by  the  word  of  God  :  but  rather  tollerated  and 
allowed." 

In  the  fourth  chapter  the  writer  observes:  "  another  thing 
now  comracth  into  my  minde,  which  I  noted  in  Hhe  disputa- 
tion belvveene  Maister  Barnes  and  Stephen  Gardiner,  Maister 
Barnes  preaching  in  London  at  Panic's  crosse,  compared  him- 
«elfe  to  a  co(  ke  of  the  game,  and  Stephen  Gardiner  to  another; 
but  (quoth  he)  Stephen  hath  no  spurres,  signifying  thereby, 
tl  at  (in  his  opinion)  Gardiner  was  not  so  well  armed  at  all 
points,  to  endanger  and  ofi'cud  his  aduersaiie  as  himseife 
was." 
hi^  »  Of 


319 

Of  the  superiority  of  the  cock  over  the  phornix  and  of  the; 
diveraion  over  hawking,  he  thus  discourses  in  the  second 
chapter.  "  The  phoenix  is  much  prized  of  many,  but  not 
more  praysedof  all  then  the  cocke  is,  for  the  one  is  not  so 
worthy  of  commendations  for  her  rarenesse  and  chastitie 
(which  commeth  of  necessity,  because  there  is  no  more  of  that 
kind)  as  the  other  is  for  his  courage  and  constancie,  who 
(though  be  hath  great  societie)  will  rather  die,  then  derogate 
from  any  of  his  company.  Master  Michaell  Drayton,  an 
excellent  poet,  now  lining  in  London,  in  a  booke  of  his  called 
EngUnd's  Heroicall  Epistles,  speaking  of  the  phoenix,  saith 
thus. 

The  Arabian  bird  that  neuer  is  but  one,  ' 

Is  onely  chast  because  she  is  alone  ; 

But  had  our  mother  nature  made  them  two. 

They  would  haue  done  as  doues  and  sparrowes  doe. 

Now  what  doth  the  doue,  but  by  his  billing  beget  others, 
or  the  sparrow,  (but  as  the  cocke  doth)  by  treading,  ingender, 
breede,  and  increase  his  own  kind.  And  had  the  phcenix  a 
pheere  to  doe  so  with,  she  would  (in  short  time)  grow  to  this 
passe,  to  be  neither  so  chast,  nor  so  rare  as  she  now  is.  Joue's 
armour  bearer,  the  eagle,  is  euery  way  greater,  but  no  way 
so  good  a'^  the  cocke  is :  for  though  he  be  the  king  of  birds, 
and  therefore  feared  of  all,  yet  he  is  a  greedy  and  a  deuouring 
cormorant  that  prayes  vpon  them,  and  therefore  beloued  of 
none.  Our  fanlkons  and  other  swift  winged  hawkes  will  sore 
hye,  and  sometiuiCs  delight  vs  a  little  :  but  the  pleasure  and 
pastime  which  they  make  vs  is  nothing  in  compari>-on  of  that 
which  our  cockes  yeeld  vs.  And  yet  hawking  is  a  sport  of 
many  great  personages,  and  braue  spirited  gentlemen,  much 
vsed,  and  mightily  accouiit''d  of,  and  to  speake  as  I  thinke : 
it  is  a  thing  that  deserueth  both  to  be  loued,  and  commended  : 
yet  cockes  afford  vs  farre  more  pleasure,  than  hawkes  can, 
though  hawkes  be  ten  times  more  chargeable,  and  trouble- 
some, arid  require  ten  times  more  attendance  than  our  cockes 
doe*." 

Of  the  building  of  the  cock-pit  at  Whitehall,  he 
savs, 

*'  Our  late  prince  of  famons  menr)orie  king  Henrie  the 
eight,  did  take  such  pleasure  and  wonderfull  delight  in  the 
cocks  of  the  game,  that  he  caused  a  most  sumptuous,  a  id 
stately  cock-pit  to  be  erected  in  Westminster,  wherein  his 
inaiestie  might  disport  himselfe  with  cocke-tighting,  among 

^  •  In  another  pljice  is  an  allusion  to  the  *«  sqeaking  castrell  OT  a 
scuruie  hobbje.''     ,--.,'-'•-•  .'  V    .     - 

hit 


320 

his  most  noble  and  louing  subjects,  who  in  like  manner  did 
affect  that  pastime  so  well,  and  conceiued  so  good  an  opinion 
of  it,  not  onely  because  the  king  was  so  addicted  to  it,  but 
also  in  regard  of  the  great  valor  and  incomparable  courage  that 
the  cockes  shewed  in  their  battels  j  the  which  did  inflame 
their  hearts,  that  they  caused  cocke-pits  to  be  made  in  many 
citlies,  boroughrs,  and  towncs  throughout  the  realme.  lo 
which  cock-pits  resorted  both  dukes,  carles,  lords,  knights, 
gentlemen,  and  yeomen,  there  to  recreate  and  delight  them- 
selues  with  cocke-fighiing." 

In  the  lastchap-er  he  relates  that  there  was  "  no  longer  agoe, 
than  the  4th  day  of  May,  l602,  at  a  cocke-fighting  in  the  citie 
of  Norwich  atbresayd  a  cocke  called  Tarleton  (who  was  so  in- 
tituled, because  he  alwayes  came  to  the  light  Jike  a  drum- 
mer, making  a  thundering  noyse  with  his  winges)  which 
cocke  fought  many  battels,  with  mighty  and  fierce  aduersa- 
ries . . ,  .Many  more  commendations  than  1  have  rehearsed  may 
be  given  unto  them,  and  many  farre  more  excellent  things 
might  be  spoken  of  them,  both  in  regard  of  their  nature, 
nurture,  vertues,  qualities,  and  courage,  than  either  I 
have  expressed,  or  am  any  way  able  to  expresse  sufficiently  : 
wherefore  1  am  rewslved  to  leaue  that  Herculanean  taske  for 
some  more  blessed  brain  to  take  in  hand  :  and  onely  content 
my  selfe  with  that  which  I  hane  already  done,  not  doubting 
but  that  in  time  this  illiterate  and  imperfect  embrion  will 
intimate  and  allure  some  of  Appolloes  sacred  iieires,  some  at 
Tharaiiis  sweet  singing  swans,  some  heau>n  inspired  soule 
enchanting  poet,  to  carrole  forth  at  tuU,  in  high  and  heart 
pleasing  strains,  their  de.re  and  well  deserued  praises  :  which 
thing  I  would  be  most  glad  of,  and  will  hari'.ly  pray  for. 

..       3  J.  H. 

*"*   •  ''-^    ,^t     • 

^  ji  Search  for  Money,  or  The  lamentable  complaint 
■»  for  I  he  losse  of  the  wandring  Khight,   Mounsieur 

'  V Argent.  Or^  Come  along  with  me.  I  know  thou 
louesl  money.  Dedicated  to  all  those  thai  lack 
money.  Frange  nucis  tegmen,  si  cupis  esse  nucem. 
By  ft  illiam  Rowley,  'imprinted  at  London  for 
Joseph  Hunt,  and  are  to  he  solde  at  Newgate  Market, 
neere  Christ  Church  gate.  I609.  qto,  Iti  leaves. 

'  -^  ■> 

The  author,  by  his  epistle  dedicatory,  wishes  "  to  his  entire 

and  dearr-esteemed  friend,  Maister  Thomas  Hobbs,  health  on 

earth,  femporall  and  higher  happinrsse  eternal! Money, 

the  says]  whose  best  part  is  but  e^rth,  whose  too  much  worshipt 
grcatnesse,  in  my  Judgment,  is  but  a  barc-l>'gd  passage  through 
*  many 


321. 

many  acres  of  briers,  for  a  handful!  of  rushes  on  the  other  side, 
(being  found  not  worth  halfe  the  toile)  but  vse  his  coTipanie 
as  I  do,  and  that's  as  I  weare  my  gloues  some-time  on,  some- 
time of,  and  many  times  leefe  them  quite,  take  this,  to  refuse 
it  :  the  next  search  I  make  (God  willing)  shall  bee  for 
wisdome,  and  then,  if  you  will  go  alorg  with  me,  weele  pace 
together  :  till  then,  farewell.  Yours,  William  Rowley." 

Dedication  : — "  To  all  those  that  lack  money.  Gentlemen, 
for  so  nuich  you  may  be  that  want  money,  and  more  they 
cannot  bee  that  haue  it,  (bee  that  your  comfort,)  yee  are 
indcfd  the  oneWe  Aloccenasses  and  patrons  of  poesie,  but  for 
your  weake  purses  there  are  alwaies  ioyned  willing  hearts,  and, 
if  not  deecles,  at  the  least  goodwordes :  (Simi/e  simili  gaudet) 
I  ioye,  most  respected  benefactors,  in  your  fellowshippe,  for 
from  me  yee  are  like  to  receiue  nothing  but  good  words,  will 
yee  now  vndertake  an  eqnall  trauell  with  me  (I  know  not  yet 
whither)  and  let  the  destinies  (if  they  will)  reward  our  paines. 
J  know  the  walkes  in  Paules  are  stale  to  yee,  yee  conld  toll 
extemporally,  I  am  sure,  how  many  paces  t'were  betwecjie 
the  quire  and  the  west  dore,  or,  like  a  Sujjhike  man,  answere 
at  the  second  question,  dead  sure  :  there  hath  becne  (many  of 
yee)  scene  measuring  the  longitude  and  latitude  of  More-fields 
any  time  this  two  yeares  and  vpwards ;  all  but  i«  the  hard 
season  of  the  great  frost,  and  then  yee  slid  away  the  time  vpon 
the  Thames  ;  yee  haue  be(  ne  cither  eare  or-eye  wimesses,  or 
both,  to  many  raadde  voiages  made  of  late  yeares,  both  by  sea 
and  land,  as  the  trauell  to  Rome  with  the  returne  in  certaine 
dales,  the  wild  morrise  to  Norrige,  the  fcllowes  going  back- 
ward to  Barwick,  another  hopping  from  Yorke  to  London, 
and  the  transforming  of  the  top  of  Paules  into  a  stable,  to 
these  and  many  more,  ad  one  more,  whatoddes  with  him  now 
that  will  bring  yee  to  the  place  where  your  lost  and  long  wisbt 
friepid  Mounsier  Money  is  within  two  houres  ?  me  thinkes  yee 
smile  now?  but  you  would  laugh  if  it  were  so  indeede,  yoit 
thinke  it  not  possible  now,  you  having  searcht  so  diligentlie 
and  are  yet  without  him,  but  pluck  vp  a  good  hart,  hire  but 
this  hackney  and  {vita  pro  vita)  hee  will  bring  yee  to  the  place 
for  the  prise  of  a  peck  of  oates,  tis  no  great  charge,  along  with 
him  but  pace  him  not  too  fast  for  feare  of  stumbling,  if  yee 
dislike  this  voiage,  returne  to  my  stable  agaioe,  if  I  horse  yee 
rot  for  better  profit,  turne  from  a  Gentile  to  a  Jeiv,  and  spit 
at  me,  there  has  beene  time  and  labor  (a  little  of  both)  to 
bring  him  to  this  small  growth.  Vale :  frustra  nihil.  Your 
ioynt  friend  in  estate.    William  Rowley." 

This  trifle  is  the  production  of  William  Rowley  the 
dramatic  writer,  and  now  first  known.  '  It  has  a  vein 


of  low  htimonr  similar  to  that  which  diversifies  the 
pages  of  Deckarand  other  contemporary  pamphleteers. 
In  the  privy  search  tor  the  wandring  knight,  Moun- 
sieiir  Money  they  pass  a  lane  near  a  ditch  in  the  city, 
which  from  the  description  may  be  applied  to  Rose- 
mary lane,  as  close  upon  Tower  ditch. 

"  Bccing  now  in  the  cittie  we  concluded,  sii  fas  aut  nefas, 
to  end  our  enquirie  there  ere  wee  past  it,  and  at  the  instant, 
as  wee  were  againe  entring,  wee  spied  a  streete  on  the  left 
hand  (the  verie  hand  that  hell  stands  on,)  all  adorned  like  a 
most  famous  infamous  ward  rope,  for  there  were  executed  and 
hung,  some  by  the  necke,  some  by  the  heeles,  many  innocent 
garments,  whose  first  owners  themselves  were  hung  (most  of 
them)  on  the  other  side  of  thecitty,  and  now  the  garments  (for 
their  maisters  crime)  suffered  the  second  place  of  paine,  and 
were  there  tortur'd  to  bee  purged  in  the  ayre  of  some  infections 
that  yet  either  run  or  crept  vpon  them  :  we  did  immagine  that 
our  lost  mounsier  had  been  there  at  the  receit  thereof,  but  sure 
he  would  not  lodge  nor  abide  amongst  such  a  tribe  of  Jewish 
brokers,  yet  hauiug  opportunity  to  aske,  for  then  met  vs  one 
that  had  newly  ransomed  a  long  executed  sute,  and  had  of 
purpose  chose  it  to  see  if  it  could  conduct  him  the  same  way 
the  former  owner  was  gone.  (For  indeed  he  meant  to  weare 
it  to  the  proofe.)  Of  him  we  askt  who  might  bee  the  patron 
and  furnisher  of  this  large  wardrope,  he  answered  vs  that  the 
furnisher  of  that  place  was  as  mad  a  hangman  as  any  was  about 
the  townc;  nay,  there  was  none  like  him,  his  name  was 
Don  Carnifexius  Crackoyiecho  Dericko,  a  rare  fellow  (for  there 
was  none  such),  and  it  was  doubted  whether  he  were  a 
magician  or  no,  for  he  vsed  to  ride  in  tl-.e  ayre  of  Pacolets 
wooden  horse,  marrie  hee  was  a  clowne  in  one  thing,  he 
neuer  ridde  with  bridle,  but  a  base  halter  alwaies,  and  that 
was  to  shew  hee  could  raine  his  mare  without  a  bit,  and  a 
mare  it  was  by  approbation,  for  shee  casts  many  colts,  and 
that  was  with  his  rnmercifuU  backing  of  her  so  neere  her 
teeming  time,  nay  (sales  hee),  hee  is  a  very  Alexander,  for 
none  but  himselfe  dares  mount  his  Bucephalus,  but  it  is  in 
dannger  of  death  ere  hee  comes  to  the  ground,  nay,  his  own 
scruant  (by  credible  report)  that  had  well  broke  and  often 
managed  her,  for  offering  to  get  vppe  the  wrong  way,  waB 


throwne  and  broke  bis  neck." 


J.H. 


Cajcton*^ 


323 


Caxtou'0  €ato  ^agnu0,  1483. 

•'  Here  begynneth  the  prologue  or  proheniye  of  the  book* 
callyd  Caton,  whiche  booke  hath  ben  transhted  in  to  Englysshe 
by  Mayster  Benet  Burgh,  late  Archedeken  of  Colchestre  and 
hye  chanon  of  saint  Stephens  at  Westmestre,  which  ful  craftly 
hath  made  it  in  balade  ryal  for  the  erudicion  of  my  lord 
Bousher,  sone  &  heyr  at  tliat  tyme  to  my  lord  the  erle  of 
Estsex  And  bycause  of  late  cam  to  ray  hand  a  book  of  the  said 
Caton  in  Frensshe,  whiche  reherceth  many  a  fayr  lernynge 
and  notable  ensamples,  I  haue  translated  it  oute  of  frensshe 
in  to  Englysshe^  as  al  along  here  after  shalle  appiere,  whiche  I 
prescnte  vnto  the  Cyte  of  London." 

Colophon. 

"  Here  fynyssheth  this  present  book  whiche  is  sayd  or 
called  Cathon  translated  oute  of  Frensshe  in  to  Englysshe  by 
William  Caxton  in  thabbay  of  Westmynstre  the  yere  of  oure 
lord  MCCCC  Ixxxiii,  And  the  fyrst  yere  of  the  regne  of 
kynge  Rychard  the  thyrd  the  xxiii  day  of  december." 

On  the  reverse  of  the  first  leaf  of  the  Proheme,  at 
the  end  of  that  part  which  is  copied  by  Mr.  Dibditi 
(I.  198;,  Caxton  records  that  Poggius  the  Florentine 
"  held  Cathon  glossed  for  the  Lest  book  in  his  library." 
He  thus  goes  on 

"  Thenne  syth  that  he  that  was  so  noble  a  clerke  helde  this 
book  for  the  best,  doubtles,  hit  must  folowe  that  this  is  a  noble 
booke,  and  a  vertuous,  and  suche  one  that  a  man  may  eschewe 
alle  vyces  and  ensiewe  vertue.  Thenne  tothende  that  this  sayd 
book  may  prouffyte  vnto  the  herars  of  it,  I  byseche  Almyghty 
god  that  I  may  acheue  and  accomplysshe  it  vnto  his  laude  and 
glorye  And  to  therudicion  and  lernynge  of  thera  that  ben 
ygnorau~i  that  they  maye  thereby  prouffyte  and  be  the  better. 
And  I  requyre  and  byseche  alle  suche  that  fynde  faute  or 
errour,  that  of  theyr  chary te  they  correcfe  and  amende  hiJ. 
And  I  shalle  hertely  praye  for  them  to  Almyghly  god,  that 
he  rewarde  them. 

n  this  smal  lytyl  booke  is  conteyned  a  short  and  prouffitable 

I  doctryne  for  all  maner  of  peple,  the  whiche  is  taken  and 
composed  vpon  the  said  book  of  Cathon  with  some  ad- 
dicions  and  auctorilees  of  holy  doctours  &  prophetes.  And 
also  many  Historyes  &'  ensamples  autentyke  of  holy  fader* 
&  auncicnt  Cronycles  trewe  &  approuurd  Item  this  lytell 
booke  shalle  be  deuyded  in  two  partyes  pryncipal.  The 
fyrst  partye  pryncipal  is  the  proheme  whiche  begynneth  Cum 

animaduerterem. 


324 

trtimaduerterrm.  And  enduretb  unto  Jlaque  deo  supplies!- 
The  second  partye  pryncipal  is  the  trayttye  and  alle  the  maner 
ot  this  present  book,  whicbe  begynneth  Itaque  deo  suppllca, 
an  enduretli  vnto  the  ende  of  the  sayd  lytel  booke.  Item  tlnu 
Kccond  partye  pryncipal  is  deuyded  in  two  partyes,  the  first  is 
in  prose,  and  the  second  in  verse,  the  fyrst  partye  whiche  is 
in  prose  begynneth  Itaqne  deo  supplies.  And  endureth  unto 
Si  deus  est  animus,  the  which  contavuelh  Ivi  couimaundements. 
Item  tlic  seconde  partye  whiche  is  in  verse,  is  subdjuyckd  in  to 
foure  partyes.  The  fyrst  begynneth  at  Si  deus  est  animus, 
Sc  endure.h  unto  Telluris  si  fort*-,  the  whiche  conteynetli 
fourty  commauudcments.  The  second  partye  begynneth  at 
Telluris  si  forte,  &  endureth  vnto.  Hoc  quicunque  velis, 
whiche  conteyncth  xxxv  commaundemcnts.  The  third  partye 
hoc  quicunque,  &  endureth  to  Secumm  quicunque,  whiche 
coiUeynMh  xxvi  commaiuidements,  the  fourthe  partye  be- 
gynneth at  Securam,  and  endureth  vnto  thende  of  the  book. 
And  conteyneth  Ivj  comraaundcnients.  And  soo  tl;is  present 
lytel  booke  con teyneth  insomme  twohonderd  xiij  commaunde- 
int-nts,  as  wel  in  prose  as  in  verse.  But  to  thende  that  thy- 
storyes  and  examples  that  ben  conteyned  in  this  lytel  book 
may  be  lyghly  founden.  And  also  for  to  knowe  vpon  what 
rommaundementes  they  ben  adioustcd  and  allcdged,  they  shall 
bcsefte  and  entytledbymaner  of  Rubrysshe  in  the  commaunde- 
ment  vponwhiche  eche  shalle  be  conteyned  and  allcdged.    iij 

Then  on  the  reverse  of  this  leaf  commences  the 
table,  which  continues  throusfh  the  two  following 
caves. 

I  select  the  following  specimen  from  the  body  of  the 
\\oik,  (b.  vij)  because  it  contains  a  story  sufficiently 
whimsical. 

**  Meretricem  fnge. 

How  oughtest  to  flee  the  comyn  &  folysshc  wymmen 
t  and  the  bawdes  and  theyr  decepcions.  For  they  ben  more 
subtyl  than  the  deuyl.  Item  thow  oughtest  to  holde  the 
by  tiiy  wyf  yf  thou  be  maryed.  Saynt  Crisostom  sayth  that  he 
i»  a  fole  whithc  leucih  his  good  and  trewe  wyf  and  holdeth 
other  cornyu  wymmen  in  his  ft-iawshyp.  Peter  alphons  re- 
lierceth  in  his  book,  that  in  spayne  wythin  the  cytc  of  hys- 
palensy  was  a  moche  fayre  and  a  good  bourgeys  wyf  and  wel 
beloued  of  her  husbond.  It  happed  that  a  yonge  clerke  was 
rnamowred  of  byr,  and  many  tymcs  prayed  &  requyrcd  hir  of 
loue,  but  for  no  thynge  she  wold  neuer  cousenie  to  hit.  Thenne 
wkan  the  clerke  «awe  that  he  was  refused  he  enterd  in  to 
»uc!ic  a  malcncolye,  that  better  he  semed  to  be  deed,  thenne  on 
lyuc,  but  nyghe  bis  hows  dwellyd  a  maquerel  or  bawde  whiche 
had  grete  acqueyntaunce  wyth   the  sayd  bourgeyse.     And 

■  whan 


325 

^an  the  sayd  bawde  knewe  that  the  sayd  clerke^wasin  suche^ 
po)  nte,- she  came  for  to  speke  wyth  hym  and  dimaiinded  of 
byin  what.he  eyled  and  why  he  was  in  so  gret'e  malencolye 
and  comforted  hym  and  dyd  so  moche  that  she  knewe  al  his 
fayte.  And  in  dede  the  Clarke  made  bargayn  with  th6  sayd 
olde  bawde  for  to  fynde  the  meanes  that  he  myght  haue  his 
plesure  of  the  sayd  boui*geys  wyf  and  for  to  fulfylle  his  wylle 
and  his  entencioni  This  olde  bawde  had  a  lytill  catte  wliiche 
she  named  pasquette  the  which  she  kepte  wythout  ony  mete 
or  drynke  the.'^pace  of  thre  dayes,  and  after  she  gaue  to  the 
catte  a  lytel  flesshe  with  right  stronge  mustard,  and  after  she 
wente  for  to  speke  wyth. the  sayd  bourgeys  wyf  and  ledde  with 
hir  her  lytel  catte,  but  bycause  that  she  had  eten  the  sayd 
mustard  she  dyd  none  other  but  wepte  euer.  And  ihenne  the 
good  wyf  demaunded  of  the  bawde  wiiy  her  catte  wepte  and 
syghed  so  sore.  And  she  syghyng  and  wepyng  answerd, 
Helas  n>y  lady,  my  catte  whiche  ye  see  and  1  haue  cause 
ynough  for  to  wiepe,  Wherfore  sayd  the  wyf  I  praye  you  that 
ye  wyl  telle  to  me  the  cause.  Helas  sayd  the  olde  bawde,  my 
lady  I  dar  not  telle  hit  to  you.  Neuerthelesse  the  bourgeys 
■wyfpray<d  hyr  so  moche,  that  she  tolde  hit  to  hir,  sayeng 
madame  syth  hit  pleseth  to  you,  I  shal  telle  hit  to  you,  this 
catte  whiche  ye  now  see  here  is  myn  owne  doughter,  the 
whiche  by  the  wylle  and  plesure  of  god  hath  ben  transfourmed 
in  to  a  catte  bycause  that  a  yonge  man  loued  hit,  but  neuer 
for  no  thynge  she  wold  not  accorde  for  to  doo  his  plesure  and 
wylle.  Wherfore  the  goddes  were  wroth  and  torned  hir 
jn  to  a  catte  as  ye  may  see.  And  therfore  she  wepeth  thus 
contynuelly,  &  whan  she  wepeth  I  can  not  holde  me  but 
that  i  must  wepe.  How  sayd  the  bourgeys  wyf  ye  say  wonder, 
is  hit  trouthe  that  ye  say,  the  whiche  sware  that  hit  was  veray 
trouthe  Helas  sayd  the  bourgeys  wyf  whiche  beleuyd  lightly, 
jknowest  thou  not  suche  a  yonge  clerke.  Yes  my  lady  I 
knowe  hym  ful  wel,  Certeynly  sayd  the  bourgeys  wyf  he  halh. 
prayed  me  of  loue,  and  hath  offered  to  me  many  grete  yeftes, 
but  neuer  for  no  thynge  1  ne  wold  consente  ne  graunte  hys 
plesure,  wherfore  as  I  suppose  he  is  in  grete  thought  and 
malencolye,  and  therfore  yf  hit  were  sdthe  that  thou  sayest,  I 
shold  be  torned  in  to  a  catte  as  thy  doughter  is,  yf  the  goddes 
ben  wrothe  with  me,  Certeynly  sayd- the  bawde  yf  ye  holde 
thus  longe  the  sayd  clerke  in  that  payne  and  languor,  ye  are 
in  grete  parelle  for  to  be  transformed  from  your  fayre  fourme, 
in  to  the  lykenesse  and  fourme  of  a  catte  and  ye  shal  therfore 
wepe  al  the  tyme  of  your  lyf,  wherfore  my  dere  lady,  1 
counceyl  you,  or  the  goddes  be  wrothe  vpon  you,  that  ye  doo 
after  the  wylle  of  the  sayd  clerke.  For  yf  ye  wisre  torned  iti  to 
a  lityl  catte  ye  shold  be  dyshonourd'  &  ye  shold  be  cause  of 
the  shame  and  dyshonoure  perpetuell  of  youf  lynag«,  Thus 
yoL.  IV.  2  '       the 


tlie  sayd  bourgeys  wyf  wliiche  donbted  the  furour  and  wrath 
of  the  goddes  and  the  shame  &  dyshonour  boihe  of  hir  self 
and  of  her  parentes,  byleuynge  the  wordes  of  the  fo;sayd  olde 
bawde,  consented  wythin  her  herte  to  doo  the  wylle  and 
plesure  of  the  sayd  clerke.  And  thenne  with  grete  sygheng 
and  malencolyes,  for  doubte  that  wors  shold  come  to  hit,  sayd 
to  the  sayd  olde  woman  that  she  wold  goo  toward  the  sayd 
clerke  and  that  she  shold  telle  to  hym  that  he  wold  come  for 
to  speke  with  hir,  and  that  of  hyr  he  shold  baue  his  plesure, 
Thenne  was  the  olde  bawde  ioyeful  and  gladde,  and  after 
wente  to  the  sayd  clerke  &  said  to  hym  that  he  shold  make 
good  chere,  and  that  Incontynente  he  shold  goo  toward  the 
bourgeys  wyf  &  that  of  hir  he  shold  haue  al  that  shold 
please  to  hym,  The  whiche  clerke  wente  Incontynent  thyder 
and  payed  the  bawde  as  he  had  promysed  to  hyr.  And  thus  he 
had  hys  wylle  of  the  sayd  bourgeys  wyf."  * 

I  will  give  another  specimen,  more  in  the  general 
manner  ot"  the  book,  from  the  reverse  of  sign.  G.  iij. 
"  Cum  tihi  diuicie  superant  in  Jine  senecte 
Munificus  facito,  viuas  non  parcus  amicis." 

How  oughtest  to  be  lyberalle  and  large  at  the  ende  of 
t      thy  daycs  vnto  thy  frende,  and  noo  nygarde,  that  is  to 

wete  when  thou  hast  whcrof  and  that  thy  rychesses  are 
ouermoche,  and  more  than  to  thyn  estate  nedeth  for  to  be 
holden.  For  thou  oughtest  to  gyue  and  to  departe  some  to  thy 
parentes  and  frendes,  &  to  do  thcrwith  almesses  to  the 
poure  membyrs  of  Jhesu  cryst,  Saynt  ambrose  sayfh  that  yf 
thou  gyuest  not  mete  &  drynke  to  hym  that  deyeth  for 
hungrc  yf  thou  hast  wherof,  thou  thyself  sleest  and  puttest 
bym  to  detbe  and  arte  cause  of  hys  dethe."  j. 

From  a  copy  in  the  library  at  Lee  near  Canterbury. 


•f  Old  Meg  of  Herefordshire,  for  a  MoT/d-Marian  : 
and  Hereford  Towncfor  a  Morris-daunce ;  or  Ttuelue 
Morris-Dancers  in  Herefordshire,  of  Iwelue  hundred 
yeares  old.  Grata  Senectus  homini  parilis  luuentce. 
London,  Printed  for  John  Budge,  and  are  to  be 
sold  at  his  shop,  at  the  great  South  doore  ofPaules. 
I60y.    4to.     10  leaves,    b.  1. 

[Dedicated]  "  To  that  renowned  Ox-leach,  old  Hall,  Ta- 
borer  of  Herefordshire,  and  to  his  most  inuincible  Weather- 
beaten  Nutbrowne  Taber,  being  alxeadie  old  and  sound,  three- 
score yeares  and  vpward. 

•  The  incidents  of  this  story  only  slightly  vary  from  those  of 
the  Lay  of  Dame  Sirith,  ante  p.  193. 

"To 


327 

"  To  thee  (old  Hall)  that  for  thy  age  and  art  mightest 
haue  cured  an  oxe  that  was  eaten  at  Saint  Quintin's,  tb^t  for 
thy  warlike  miisicke  mightest  haue  strucke  vp  at  Bullen,  whea 
great  Driimmes  wore  broken  heades,  thy  little  continuall  taber 
had  beene  enough  to  haue  put  spirit  into  all  the  souldiers. 
NowTvvierc-pipe  that  famous  Southre~  Taberer  with  the  Cow- 
leyan  windpipe,  who  for  whuling  hath  beene  famous  through- 
the  Globe  of  the  world,  did  euer  gaiiie  such  renowne  and 
credite  by  his  pipe  and  Tabor,  as  ihou  (old  Hall)  by  striking  vp 
to  these  twelue  hundred  yeares  moris  dauncers  :  *  nor  art  thou 
alone  (sweet  Hall)  a  most  exquisite  Taber-man,  but  an  excel- 
Jent  Oxe-leach,  and  canst  pleasure  thy  neighbours.  The 
people  of  Herefordshire  are  beholding  to  thee,  thou  giuest  the 
men  light  hearts  by  thy  pype,  and  the  women  light  heeles  by 
thy  Taber.  O  wonderful!  pyper,  O  admirable  Taber-man, 
make  vse  of  thy  worth,  euen  after  death,  that  art  so  famously 
■worthy  in  thy  life,  both  for  thy  age,  skill,  and  thy  vnbruized 
Taber,  who  these  threescore  yeares  has  kept  her  maydenhead 
sound  and  vncrackt,  and  neither  lost  her  first  voyce,  or  her 
fashion :  once  for  the  countreyes  pleasure  imitate  that  Bohe- 
mian Zisca,  who  at  his  death  gaue  his  souldiers  a  strict  com- 
maund,  to  flea  his  skin  off,  and  couer  a  Drum  with  it,  that 

*  Brand,  among  his  notes  on  the  Morris  Dancers  (see  Obser- 
<vaiions  on  ancient  Popular  Antiquities,  qto.  1813,  Vol.  II.  p.  208,) 
has  the  following  account  of  another,  by  eight  persons.  "  A  few 
years  ago,  a  May  Game,  or  Morris  dance,  was  performed  bythefol- 
Jowing  eight  men  in  Herefordshire,  whose  ages,  computed  together, 
amounted  to  800  years :  J.  Corley,  aged  109  ;  Thomas  Buckley, 
106  ;  John  Snow,  loi  :  John  Edey,  104  ;  GeorgeBailey,  106  ;  Jo- 
seph Medbury,  lOO;  John  Medbury,  95;  Joseph  Pidgeon,  79." 
Though  neither  of  these  ancients  are  named  in  the  above  tract,  it  is 
probable  the  dance  took  place  at  no  great  distance  of  time  from 
that  period,  and  is  the  '*  May  game,  or  Morris-dance,  consisting 
of  eight  men,"  mentioned  by  Lord  Bacon,  as  happening  "  a  few 
yeares  since  in  the  Countie  of  Hereford."  See  History  Naturall  and 
Experiment  all  of  Life  and  Death,  1638.  The  same  story  is  also  com- 
mented on  in  the  following  extract  from  Vinetum  Britannicum :  or 
^  treatise  of  Cider,  by  J.  Worlidge,  Gent.  1691.  "  The  constant 
use  of  this  liquor  (Cider)  either  simple  or  diluted,  hath  been 
found  by  long  experience  to  avail  much  to  health  and  long  life; 
preserving  the  drinkers  of  it  in  their  full  strength  and  vigour  even 
to  very  old  age  ;  witness  that  famous  history  m  my  Lord  Bacon's 
History  of  Life  and  Death,  of  eight  men  that  but  a  little  before 
■his  time  danced  a  Morris-dance,  whose  age,  corapated  together,- 
made  eight  hundred  years  ;  for  what  some  wanted  of  one  hundred 
years,  others  exceeded.  These  were  reported  to  be  tenants  of 
one  mannour,  belonging  to  the  Earl  of  Essex  at  that  time,  and  to 
be  constant  Cider-drinkers.  And  divers  other  presidents  of  the 
like  nature,  Herefordshire,  Glocestershire,  &c.  can  furnish  you 
withall."  p,  23. 

z  2  aliue 


328 

Sllue  &  dead,  he  might  sound  like  a  terror  in  the  eares  of  his 
enemies  :  so  thou  sweete  Hereford  Hall,  bequeath  in  thy  last 
will,  thy  velom-spotted  skin,  to  couer  Tabors  :  at  the  sound  of 
which  to  set  all  the  shires  a  dauncing. 

♦'  Old  Meg  of  Herefordshire  for  a  Mayd-Marian^  and  Here- 
towne  for  a  Morris  daunce.  The  courts  of  kings  for  stately 
measures,  the  citie  for  light  heeles,  and  nimble  footing  : 
Westerne  men  for  gambouls :  Middlesex  *  men  for  tricks 
aboue  grou~d  :  Essex  men  for  the  Hey :  Lancashire  for  Hoine>- 
pypes  :  Worcestershire  for  Bag-pypes  :  but  Herefordshire  for 
a  Morris-daunce,  puts  downe  not  onely  all  Kent,  but  verie 
neare  (if  one  had  line  enough  to  measure  it)  three  quarters  of 
Christendome.  Neuer  had  Saint  Sepulchre's  a  truer  ring  of 
bels :  neuer  did  any  silke-weauer  keepe  brauer  time  with  the 
knocke  of  the  heele  :  never  had  the  dauncing  horse  a  belter 
tread  of  the  toe  :  neuer  could  Beuerley  Faire  giue  money  to  a 
more  sound  taborer,  nor  euer  had  Robin  Hood  a  more  delt 
Mayd-Marian. 

"  If  your  eares  itch  after  this  old  (but  yet  no  stale)  wonder, 
let  them  itch  no  more  (for  why  should  any  man's  ears  itch 
longer  then  is  reason)  you  shall  haue  them  tickled  presently 
tvith  the  neb  of  my  pen  j  vnderstand  therefore  (if  at  least  you 
haue  so  much  spare  wit  left  you,  as  to  vnderstand)  that  in  the 
merriest  moneth  of  the  yeare,  which  last  did  take  his  leaue  of 
vs,  and  in  that  moneth,  as  some  report,  lords  went  a  maying, 
the  wombe  of  the  Spring  being  great  with  child  of  pleasure, 
brought  forth  (iust  about  that  time)  a  nuinber  of  knights,  es- 
quiers  and  gallants  (of  the  best  sort)  from  many  partes  of  the 
land  t  to  raeete  at  a  horse-race  iieere  Hereford,  in  Hereford- 
shire. 

*  Middlesex  could  not  then  claim  the  pre-eminence  afterwards 
obtained  in  possessing  the  tallest  May-pole  •'  in  all  our  land." 
It  was  erected  in  the  Strand  opposite  May-pole  alley,  now  the 
scite  of  Newcastle  street,  and  in  a  poem  dated  1634,  said  to  have 
rivalled  "the  lofty  spire  of  Clarken-well."  However,  the  cockneys 
do  not  appear  to  have  become  such  proficients  in  the  games  as  to 
exclude  the  itinerant  morris-dancers.  Hence,  in  the  tract  of 
Coach  and  Sedati,  pleasantly  disputing  for  place  and  precedence,  the 
Brenvers  Cart  being  Moderator,  1636,  it  is  said,  "talking  in  this 
manner,  unexpected,  there  comes  by  aMorricc-dance  of  countrey- 
fellows  ;  away  goes  Powell  [a  waterman]  and  takes  the  Maide- 
Marian,  and  the  foole  along  to  a  tavernc  ;  the  promiscuous  by- 
-standers  left  us  to  follow  the  Morrice  Dancers."  The  scene  of 
this  dispute  was  Jack-an-apes  lane,  which,  I  believe,  led  from 
Little  Lmcolns'  Inn  Fields,  into  Chancery  Lane. 

t  In  Poor  RobtiCs  Intelligence, "  from  St.  Mark's  day  till  the  mor- 
row after  Milk  Maid's  holiday,"  1676,  is  the  following  descrip- 
tion of  the  same  period,  in  the  metropolis. — "  London  and  West- 
minster, May  I.  Thi»  day  there  is  nothing  but  pomp  and  jollity 
•. .     ,  "  all 


329 

shire.  {At  this  race,  some  wit,  riper  than  the  rest,  and 
probably  the  author,  raised  expectation  of  a  more  lively  meet- 
ing in  1609.  He]  vndertooke  to  bring  a  hobbie-hoise  to  the 
race  that  should  out-runne  all  the  nags  which  were  to  come 
thither  and  to  hold  out  in  a  longer  then  any  would  be  there.    ■ 

"  The  circle  of  time  running  round Lines  were  lodg- 
ings for  lords :  Baucis  and  Philaemon's  house  (had  it  stood 
theer)  would  haue  beene  taken  vp  for  a  knight.  The  streetes 
swarmed  with  people,  the  people  staring  and  ioyfolly  wel- 
comming  whole  brauies  of  gallants,  who  came  brauely  flock- 
ing on  horseback  like  so  many  lustie  aduenturers.  Bath 
made  her  waters  to  boile  vp  and  swell  like  a  spring-tide  with 
the  ouerflowing  of  her  owne  teares,  which  fell  from  her  eies 
through  griefe,  to  see  her  dearest  guests  leaue  her  for  the  loue 
of  a  horse-race  at  Hereford.  * 

"  What  man  would  not  wonder  to  see  fire  strucke  out  of 
yce  ?  to  see  dead  ashes  kindled  againe,  and  to  yeelde  fire?  to 
seesaples  trees  in  the  depth  of  winter  laden  with  mellow  apples, 
and  to  see  those  apples,  when  they  are  pluck t  and  cut,  to  grow 
againe.  This  wonder  was  as  great,  the  accomplishment  of  it 
as  strange. 

"  Age  is  no  bodie  (in  trials  of  the  bodie)  when  youth  is  in 
place,  it  giues  the  other  the  bucklers  :  it  stands  and  giues  aime 
and  is  content  to  see  youth  act,  whiles  age  sits  but  as  a  specta- 
tor, because  the  one  does  but  studie  and  play  oner  the  parts, 
which  the  other  hath  discharged  in  this  great  and  troublesome 

theater To  set  out  the  sceane  wish  mirth,  as  well  as  with 

wonder,  the  state  of  the  whole  act,  was  pat  into  a  Morris- 
all  the  town  over  :  those  that  have  the  richest  coaches  and  liveries 
in  Hide-park,  and  they  that  have  the  finest  cloaths  in  Grays-Inn- 
walks,  are  this  day  in  a  very  happy  condition.  But  woe  be  to  the 
hawthorn  bushes,  that  are  full  of  blossoms,  they  are  condemned 
(like  a  gentleman  in  a  fray)  to  berified  of  their  gay  attire  by  every 
mechanick.  The  play-houses  in  Moorfields,  and  the  bear-gardens 
on  both  sides  of  the  water,  are  to  be  thronged  with  journeymen 
and  apprentices,  for  whose  entertainment  they  are  providing  all 
kinds  of  fooleries  suitable  to  their  capacities;  lyons,  bears,  bulls, 
dogs,  apes,  monkeys,  baboons,  and  prize-players  (the  most  ridicu- 
lous beasts  of  all)  are  this  day  exposed  to  the  censure  of  every 
two-penny  spectator,  where  he  that  is  wounded  is  esteemed  a 
bungler,  and  he  that  is  not  passes  for  a  cheat." 

*  The  number  was  at  least  two  or  three  hundred,  and  of  the 
better  rank.  The  names  are  given  of  Lord  Herbert  of  Ragland  ; 
Sir  Thom.  Somerset  5  Cha.  Somerset ;  Count  Arundel's  2  sons ; 
SirEdw.  Swift  j  Sir  Thom.  Mildemay;  Sir  Rob.  Yaxley;  Sir 
Ro.  Carey;  Sir  John  Philpot ;  Sir  Ed.  Lewes;  Sir  Fr.  Lacon  ; 
Sir  James  Scudamore  ;  Sir  Thom;  Cornwall  j  SirRo.  Bodenham; 
Sir  Thom.  Russell ;   Sir  Bascaruile  5  Sir  Th.  Conisby  j 

and  Sir  Geo.  Chute. 

fiance, 


530 

daunc6.  To  furnish  which  fully  and  rnrely,  a  bill  of  names 
able  to  impannell  three  or  4  Juries  was  ginen  and  r^ad,  but  only 
18  were  sworne  and  had  the  charge  deliuered  lo  them.  Those 
rpon  whose  heades  the  vous  aucz  was  set,  being  these,  that  in 
the  next  ranke  double  their  fyles,  viz. 

"  The  Morris,  and  all  the  Officers  attending  vpon  it. 

*'  The  running  horses  being  too  light  of  foote  for  vs  to  fol- 
low, be  content  I  pray  to  stay  with  vs,  and  to  march  along 
with  our  Infanterie  of  Hereford,  which  thus  brauely  came  on. 

*'  Two  Musitions  were  appoynted  (like  the  Drum  maior 
and  Drum  minor,  to  strike  vp,  and  to  give  the  alarum  :)  the 
one  of  them  was  a  Squire  borne,  and  all  his  sons  squires  iti 
their  cradles.  The  instrument  he  tickled  was  a  trebble  violim, 
\pon  which  he  played  any  old  lesson  that  could  be  called  for  : 
the  diuision  hee  made  on  the  strings  being  more  pleasing  then 
theDiapnson.  In  skill  he  out  shines  blind  Moone  of  London, 
and  hath  out-played  more  fidlers,  then  now  sneake  vp  and 
downe  into  all  the  lauerns  there.  They  may  all  call  him  their 
father,  or  (if  you  reckon  the  yeares  rightly  which  are  scored 
ypon  his  head)  the  Musition's  grandsire,  for  this  tuneable 
Squire  is  one  hundred  and  eight  yeares  old.  * 

"■  Next  to  Arion  (and  cheeke  by  ioule  with  him  in  estima- 
tion) went  old  Orpheus,  (as  a  man  might,  being  dereiued,  haue 
■taken  him)  but  that  hee  wanted  Orpheus  lute.  This  was  old 
Hall  of  Hereford  ;  f  tlie  wayts  of  three  metropolitane  cities, 
make  not  more  musicke  then  he  can  with  his  pipe  and  tabor, 

if  at  least  his  head   be  hardbrac'd  with  nappie  ale The 

wood  of  this  olde  Hall's  Tabor  should  haue  beene  made  a 
paile  to  carie  water  in  at  the  beginning  of  king  Edward  the 
fiixt's  raigne:  but  Hall  (being  wise  because  hee  \yas  eucn  then 
reasonably  well  strucken  in  yeares)  sauedit  from  going  to  the 
Walter,  and  conuerfed  it  in  those  days  to  a  Tabor.  So  that  his 
Tabor  hath  madebatchelers  and  lasses  daunce  round  about  the 
May-poll,  three-score  sommers  one  after  another  in  order,  and 
is  yet  not  worme-eaten.  And  noble  Hall  himselfe  hath  stoode 
(like  an  cake)  in  all  stormes,  by  the  space  of  four-score  and 
seuenteene  winters,  and  is  not  yet  falling  to  the  ground. 

"  The  marshales  of  the  field  were  foure :  these  had  no 
great  storaacke  to  daunce  in  the  Morris,  but  took  upon  them 
•^bc  office  of  whiflers.  X 

*  Squire  of  Hereford,  a  Musition.  io8.  Margin. 
f  Harrie  Rudge  the  Taborer.  Mar. 
-J  In  an  advertisement  of  a  Mock  procession,  relative  to  Sir  Ed- 
iBondbury  Godfrey,  in  i68o,  there  are  •<  six  wbifflers  in  caps,  like 
pioneers,  to  make  a  way." 

[These 


331 

[These  were  1.  Thomas  Price,  of  Clodacke,  upon  whos« 
cheeks  age  had  written  105  )'ears.  2,  Thomas  Andros,  of  Beg- 
ger  Weston  3  he  carried  upon  his  back  108  years.  3.  William 
Edwards,  of  Bodenbam,  of  108  years,  with  the  comfort  of  a 
young  wife,  and  bis  age  honoured  with  a  child  of  six  years  old. 
4.  John/Sanders,  of  Walford,  an  iron-worker,  of  102  years.] 

"  Doe  yon  not  long  to  see  how  y«.  Morris-dancers  bestir 
their  legs  5  lift  vp  your  eyes,  leape  vp  behind  their  heads  that 
stand  before  you,  or  else  get  vpon  stalls,  for  I  heare  their  bells, 
and  behold  here  they  come. 

"  Of  twelue  in  the  whole  teeme,  the  foreman  was  James 
Tomkins,  of  Lcngerren,  a  gentleman  by  birth  ;  neither  loued 
of  fortune,  nor  hated  of  her,  for  he  was  neuer  so  poore  as  to  be 
pittied,  nor  euer  so  rich  as  to  be  enuied  :  when  he  had  bin  z 
dweller  in  the  world  fourescore  and  eighteene  yeares,  he  raaried 
a  wife  of  two  and  fiftie  yeares  old ;  she  brought  him  a  child 
that's  now  eight  yeares  old  (lining)  the  father  himselfe  hauing 
now  the  glasse  of  his  life  running  to  fill  vp  the  fiill  number  of 
one  hundred  and  six  yeares. 

"  After  him  comes  lustily  dauncing  John  Willis,  of  Dorra- 
ington,  a  bone-setter :  he  had  gotten  such  skill  by  placing 
other  mens  bones  in  order,  when  they  were  strucke  out  of 
ioynl,  that  he  would  neuer  suffer  his  owne  to  be  displaced,  and 
by  that  raeanes  was  so  lustie  at  legges  now,  that  albeit  he  car- 
ried about  him  the  full  v/eight  of  one  hundred  yeares,  yet  he 
was  not  seen  to  lye  behind  iiis  fellowes,  but  wont  foote  by 
foote  with  the  foremost.  His  dauncing  was  fit  to  his  yeares 
and  his  purpose  in  being  one  of  the  Morris,  was  both  honest 
and  charitable,  for  ho  bestowed  his  person  vpon  them,  with 
intent  to  be  readie  at  hand  if  any  dislocation  should  be  wrought 
vpon  any  ioynt  in  his  old  companions,  by  fetching  loftie 
trickes,  which,  by  all  meanes  possible,  they  were  svvorne  to 
auoide. 

"  Roome  for  little  Dick  Phillips,  of  Middleton;  how  nimbly 
be  shakes  his  heeles;  wel  danc'd,  old  heart  of  oakcj  and  yet  as 
little  as  he  seemes,  \m  courage  is  as  big  as  the  hobbie-horses, 
for  the  fruits  of  his  youth  (gathered  long  agon)  are  not  yet 
withered.  His  eldest  sonne  is  at  this  present  four  score 
yeares  of  age,  and  his  second  sonne,  may  now  reckon  three 
score  :  at  our  Lady  day  last  he  made  vp  the  yeares  of  his  life 
iust  one  hundred  and  two. 

•'  Now  falls  into  his  right  place  William  Waiton,  of  Mar- 
den,  with  a  hundred  and  two  yeares  at  his  heeles,  and  that 
you  may  know  he  neuer  swore  in  his  life,  he  was  an  old  fisher, 
and  of  a  cleane  man,  an  excellent  fowler,  the  first  yeare  of 
King  Henrie  the  eight. 

"  Here  slips  in  William  Mosse,  who,  contrarie  to  his  name, 
had  no  mosse  at  his  heeles  >  little  can  he  say  of  himselfe,  and 


332 

I  as  little  of  him,  but  that  he  beares  the  3ge  of  a  hundred  and 

sixe. 

"  Now  cast  your  eyes  vpon  Thomas  Winney,  of  Holmer, 
an  honest  subsidie  man,  dwelling  close  by  the  lowne ;  he 
dances  with  a  hundred  yeares  about  him  wheresoener  he  goes, 
if  the  church-yard  and  crampe  take  him  not  before  JN^idsoui- 
mer. 

"  But  how  like  you  John  Lace,  of  Madley,  a  taylor,  and  an 
excellent  name  for  it.  In  his  youth  he  was  a  hosier,  and  a 
special  good  codpiece  maker,  heing  borne  before  the  discensiop 
betwecne  cloath  breeches  and  veluet  breeches,  *  he  carries  foure 
score  and  seuenteen  sommers  about  him,  and  faine  would  bor- 
row three  yeares  of  James  Tomkins,  to  make  him  a  hundred  ; 
and  James  may  very  well  spare  them,  and  yet  leaue  three 
toward  the  intrest. 

"  Bat  what  say  you  to  John  Carelesse  ?  You  let  him  passe 
by  you  and  seeme  as  carelesse  as  he,  a  man  of  fourescorc  and 
sixteene  at  Midsommer  next;  he  hath  beene  a  dweller  iu 
Homlacie  three  score  yeares  and  two,  and  knowne  to  be  a  tall 
•man,  till  now  he  begins  to  be  crooked  ;  but  for  a  bpdie  and  a 
beard  he  becomes  any  Morris  in  Christendome. 

"  At  the  heeles  of  him  follows  his  fellow  William  IMaio,  of 
Egelton,  an  old  souldier,  and  now  a  lustie  laborer  and  a  tall 
man ;  fortie  yeares  since  being  grievously  wounded,  he  carried 
his  liuer  and  his  lights  home  halfe  a  mile,  and  you  may  still 
put  your  finger  into  them  but  for  a  thin  skin  ov^er  them  ;  and 
for  all  these  stormes  he  arriues  at  fourscore  and  seueuteene, 
and  dances  merrily. 

"  But  looke  you  who  here  comes,  John  Hunt,  the  Hobby- 
horse, wanting  but  three  of  an  hundred,  'twere  time  for  him 
to  forget  himselfe,  and  sing,  but  O,  nothing  but  O,  the 
Hobby-horse  is  forgot  ten  :  f  the  maide-marrian  following  him, 
offers  to  lend  him  seuen  yeares  more,  but  if  he  woulde  take  vp 
ten  in  the  hundred  his  company  are  able  to  lend  them. 

"  But  now  giue  way  for  the  Maide-Marrian,  old  Meg  Good- 
win, the  famous  wench  of  Erdisland,  of  who"  Maister  Wea- 
uer,  of  Burton,  that  was  fourscore  and  ten  yeares  old,  was 
wont  to  say,  she  was  twenlie  yeares  elder  then  he,  and  be 
dyed  ten  yeares  since.  This  old  Mtg  was  at  Prince  Arthur's 
death  at  Ludlow,  and  had  her  part  in  the  dole  :  she  was  tbrcQ- 

*  Probably  an  allusion  to  R.  Greene's  tract  under  that  name.  >' 

f  But  O,  nothing  but  O,  the  Hobby-horse  is  forgotten.  Probably 
the  burthen  of  some  balLid,  sufficiently  in  repute  at  the  time  to 
have  made  the  line  almost  proverbial.  In  the  last  of  three  songs, 
mentioning  the  Morris-dance,  and  given  in  our  first  volume,  at 
p.  343,  347 — 8,  we  have  "  the  hobby-horse  was  quite  forgot." 
The  sentence  is  nearly  the  same  as  that  used  in  hoove's  Labour^s 
l.ost,  and  in  part  repeated  in  Hamlet.  Undoubtedly  all  were  de- 
rived from  the  same  authority. 

scor^ 


333 

Bcore  yeares  (she  gaith)  a  maide,  and  twentie  yeares  otherwise; 
that's  what  you  will,  and  since  hath  beene  thought  fit  to  be  a 
Maide-Mariian. 

"  Welcome  John  Mando;  he  was  borne  at  Cradiy,  a  very 
good  two  haud-sword  man,  of  the  age  of  an  Imndred  at  blacke 
monday  last,  and  serues  in  place  of  Morgan  Deede,  who  climes 
to  that  age  within  foure  yeares,  here  prtsent  dwelling  in  the 
towne,  but  he  has  a  great  desire  to  keepe  his  bed,  and  be 
spared 

"  But  will  you  know  what  fashion  wasobserued  amongst  the 
Musitians,  and  what  habits  the  dauncers  tooke  vpon  themj 
here  take  a   view  of  both.     The  musitians  and  the  twelue 
dancers,  had  long  coates  of  the  old  fashion,  hie  sleeues  gathered 
at  the  elbowes,  and  hanging  sleeues  behind  :  the  stufFe  red 
buffin,  stript  with  white,  girdles  with  white,  stockings  white, 
and  redde  roses  to  their  shooes :   the  one  sixe  a  white  Jewes 
cap  with  a  jewell,  and  a  long  red  feather  :  the  other  a  scarlet 
Jewes  cap  with  a  Jewell,  and  a  white  feather:  sotheHobbi-horse, 
and  so  the  Maid-Marrion  was  attired  in  colours :  the  Wiflers 
had  long  staues,  white  and   red.     And  after  the  dauiice  was 
ended,  diuerse  courtiers  that  won  wagers  at  the  race,  too)ce 
those  colours  and  wore  them  in  their  hats. 

"  The  speech  spoken  before  the  Morris. 

«  Ye  seruants  of  our  mightie  king. 

That  came  from  court  one  hundred  mile. 
To  see  our  race,  and  sport  this  spring  : 
Ye  are  welcome,  that  is  our  country  stile. 
And  much  good  doe  you,  we  are  sorie 
That  Hereford  hath  no  better  for  yee, 
A  horse,  a  cocke,  trainsents,  a  bull, 

Primero,  gleeke,  hazard,  raumchance  : 
These  sports  through  time  are  growne  so  dull. 
As  good  to  see  a  morris  dance : 
V/hich  sport  was  promised  in  iest. 
But  payd  as  truly  as  the  rest. 
A  race  (quoth  you)  behold  a  race. 

No  race  of  horses  but  of  men : 
Men  borne  not  ten  miles  from  this  place. 
Whose  courses  outrun  hundreds  ten  : 
A  thousand  yeares  on  ten  mens  backs. 
And  one  supplies  what  other  lacks. 

"  The  Lenuoy. 

"  This  is  the  Lenuoy  (you  may  gather)  •■ 

Gentlemen, -Yeomen,  Groomes,  and  Pages, 
Lets  pray  Prince  Henrie,  and  his  father. 
May  outliue  all  these  ten  mens  ages : 

An* 


334 

And  he  that  mocks  this  application. 
Is  but  a  knaue  past  reformation. 

"  This  speech  spoken,  old  Hall  strucke  vp,  and  the  Morris- 
dauncers  fell  to  footing,  whilest  the  whifltrs  in  their  office, 
made  roome  for  the  hobby  horse. 

"  And  howe  doe  you  like  this  Morris-daunce  of  Hereford- 
shire ?  Are  they  not  braue  olde  youths  ?  Haue  they  not  the 
right  footing  ?  the  true  tread  ?  comely  lifeting  vp  of  one 
legge,  and  actiue  bestowing  of  the  other  ?  Kemps  morice  to 
Norwich  was  no  more  to  this  then  a  galliard  on  a  common 
stage,  at  the  end  of  an  old  dead  comedie,  is  to  a  caranto 
daunced  on  the  ropes 

"  How  many  tailors  that  skipping  from  their  shoppe-boords 
on  Saterday  nights,  lay  waite  onlie  for  weddings  on  the  Sun- 
day following,  wasting  their  capers  many  times  on  filthie 
rotten  mutton,  and  dauncing  out  their  working-day  gettings 
on  holi-day  spendings :  how  many  of  these,  I  say,  would  be 
able  to  set  vp  a  morris  at  those  yeares  which  Hereford  here  doth 
reckon  ?  The  great  grand-fathers,  fathers,  of  threescore  such 
nimble  footed  linnen-armourers  will  neuer  be  able  to  put  into 
the  needle  of  life  a  threed  so  long,  so  strong,  and  so  round  : 
no,  they  eate  away  their  dayes  too  fast,  and  drink  vp  their 
nights  in  surfeits :  hee  that  can  draw  out  the  wire  of  his  age 
(in  th'*se  licentious  cockney-endes  of  the  worlde)  to  fortie 
yeares,  is  an  olde  man,  and  giues  vp  his  cloake  for  riding  on  a 
Hobby-horse,  or  for  playing  any  youthful!  tricks  besides. 

"  A  taylor  at  fortie  yeares  is  glad  to  trust  to  his  yard,  and 
walkes  leaning  vpon  that.  A  fencer  at  thirtie  (by  reason  of 
his  knocking)  takes  any  foyle  to  be  a  stafFe  to  his  age.  A 
waterman  at  fiftie  yeares  falles  from  water  to  drinking  of  ale, 
onely  to  keepe  life  and  soule  togither.  A  vintner  at  threescore 
has  legges  no  bigger  then  a  crane,  they  are  so  wasted  with 
running.  But  here  is  a  doozen  of  yonkers,  that  haue  hearts  of 
oak  at  fi)urescore  yeares  :  backes  of  Steele  at  fourcsccre  and  ten, 
ribbes  of  yron  at  a  hundred,  bodies  sound  as  belles,  and  health- 
full  (according  to  the  Russian  prouerbe)  as  an  oxe  when  they 
are  trauelling  downe  the  hill,  to  make  that  one  hundred  and 
t  wen  lie. 

"  These  sherred  in  their  dauncing,  and  mooning  vp  and 
downe,  as  if  Mawlborne  hilles,  in  the  verie  depth  of  winter, 
when  all  their  headcs  are  couered  (in  steade  of  white  woollie 
cappes)  with  snow,  had  shooke  and  dauuced  at  some  earth- 
<|uake. . . , 

"  Alas  !  -what  doe  I  see  ?  Hold  Taborer,  stand  Hobby-horse, 
^lorris-dauncers  lend  vs  your  hands,  behold  one  of  the  nimble- 
Jegd  old  gallants,  is  by  chance  falne  down,  and  is  either  so 
heauy,  so  weary,  so  vnactiue  of  himselfe,  or  else  fiue  of  his  fel- 
k)w«s  are  of  such  little  strength,  that  all  their  armcs  are  pu^ 

V 11  dec 


335 

rnder  him  (as  leaucrs)  to  lift  him  vp,  yet  the  good  olde  boyes 
cannot  set  him  on  his  feete.  Let  him  not  lie  tor  shame,  you 
that  haue  (all  this  while)  scene  him  daunce,  and  though  hee 
bee  a  little  out  of  his  part,  in  the  verie  last  act  of  all,  yet  hisse 
at  nothing,  but  rather  (because  it  is  begd  for  God's  sake,) 
Summi  Jouis  causa  plaudiie.     Finis,"  * 


To  the  above  amusing  detail  of  t'le  characters  and 
manner  of  the  English  Morris  dance,  as  performed 
two  centuries  ago^  the  popularity  of  the  subject  may 
allow  me  to  add,  as  a  supplement,  some  account  of  the 
May-games,  as  exhibited  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Longcombe,  Oxfordshire,  about  1774;  which,  though 
modern,  is  worthy  preservation. 

The  May-games  were,  at  that  period,  planned  by  the  sons 
of  wealthy  farmers,  who  undertook  the  burthen  of  the  expense 
in  case  the  want  of  success  should  leave  any  undefrayed.  Some 
convenient  spot,  near  the  middle  of  the  village,  where  the  use 
of  a  barn  could  be  obtained,  was  fixt  upon,  and  with  a  green 
sufficiently  contiguous,  where  the  bower  and  May-pole  could 
be  erected.  The  intended  festival  was  then  announced  by  the 
Morris-dancers  upon  Maunday-Thursday,  (if  that  day  fell  con- 
veniently,) who  made  a  rotary  visit  to  the  halls  of  the  neigh- 
bouring gentry,  where  they  usually  obtained  a  seasonable  con- 
tribution. It  was  also  made  known  upon  the  market  days  at  all 
the  adjacent  towns. 

The  May-pole,  and  a  thrave  of  boughs,  to  form  the 
bower,  were  occasionally  purchased,  but  more  commonly  ob- 
tained as  a  donation.  The  tirst,  when  erected,  had  the  top 
adorned  with  a  garland  of  flowers,  and  the  latter  being  arched 
over,  was  made  sufficiently  capacious  for  the  country -dances. 

In  the  barn,  or,  as  named  for  the  occasion,  the  Lord's 
mansion,  there  were  placed  several  barrels  of  ale,  brewed  for 
the  purpose,  with  cakes  newly  baked,  (for  a  daily  supply  of 
which  some  neighbouring  oven  was  engaged)  and  a  large 
quantity  of  ribbons.  The  sale  of  these  articles  usually  exone- 
rated the  promoters  of  the  games  from  any  loss. 

In  chusing  the  Lord  and  Lady  of  the  May,  care  was  taken 
to  select  a  smart  active  and  handsome  man,  as  well  as  a  lively 
pretty  woman,  the  daughter  of  some  respectable  farmer,  and 
to  whom  it  often  proved  the  prelude  of  obtaining  a  husband. 
It  is  doubtful  whether  the  Lord  derived  any  pecuniary  advan- 
tage from  the  revenue  that  supported  his  state,  though  the 
Lady  was  allowed  daily  new  shoes  and  twenty  yards  of  ribbon, 
and,  at  the  end  of  the  sports,  complimented  with  a  guinea. 

*  The  above  tract  is  now  reprinting. 

"  In 


336 

In  procession  the  T.ady  carried  a  bouquet,  which  was 
called  her  mace,  and  herself  and  Lord  held  each  the  end  of  a 
ribbon,  as  did  their  attendants,  called  my  Lord's  footman  and 
my  Lady's  maid,  part  of  whose  province  was  to  sell  ribbons. 
The  maid  also  carried  a  mace,  which  might  be  named  the  mace 
of  mischief,  as,  to  tickle  the  noses  of  her  admirers,  the  flowers 
were  often  mischievously  enwoven  with  pins  as  well  as  briar. 

Another  attendant,  whose  province  gave  life  to  the  show, 
was  called  the  Squire,  His  dress  was  a  fanciful  compound  of 
those  genuine  Mimes,  the  Harlequin,  Clown,  and  Scara- 
mouch. He  was  furnishe<l  with  a  weapon  to  prevent  the 
crowd  incommoding  his  Lord  and  Lady  in  their  progresses. 
It  consisted  of  a  short  stick,  having  at  one  end  a  narrow  round 
sand-bag,  sewed  in  tan  leather  ;  at  the  other,  the  dried  tail  of 
a  calf.  From  the  last,  the  incorrigible,  on  whom  the  weighj: 
of  the  sand-bag  had  repeatedly  fallen  without  effect,  seldom 
ventured  to  provoke  a  second  stripe.  The  Squire  was  noted 
for  his  loquacity,  and  was  expected  to  have  a  wise  or  foolish 
speech  ready  upon  every  occasion  ;  for  by  the  laughter  his 
nonsense  occasioned,  was  commonly  decided  his  ability  to  sup- 
port the  character. 

Early  upon  May  morning  the  Lord  and  Lady,  with  their 
attendants,  waited  by  the  May-pole  for  visitors,*  whom 
they  preceded  in  due  form,  their  Squire  and  two  servants  lead- 
ing the  way,  first  to  the  bower  and  then  to  the  mansion. 
Here  the  company  were  shewn  the  curiosities,  viz.  a  flail, 
hung  over  a  beam,  as  my  Lord's  organ ;  the  portrait  of  a  lioii 
for  my  Lady's  lap-dog,  and  that  of  an  owl  for  her  parrot.  The 
regulations  and  forfeits  of  the  mansion  were  also  communis 
cated,  and  finally,  the  party  invited  to  partake  of  the  refresh- 
ments. That  being  done,  the  duty  of  the  Lord  and  Lady 
ceased,  and  they  returned,  with  their  attendants,  to  their  for- 
mer station,  to  wait  other  visitors.  If  while  they  were  en-- 
gaged,  as  it  frequently  happened,  there  arrived  a  set  of  Morris 
dancers,  often  with  all  the  good  folks  of  their  village  in  com- 
pany, the  whole  halted  at  a  distance  until  the  cavalcade  could 
be  preceded  in  due  state  to  the  mansion. 

No  inconsiderable  portion  of  good  humour  and  mirth  arose 
from  the  non-payment  of  the  forfeits.  To  call  either  of  the 
above  named  curiosities  by  any  other  appellation  than  that  as- 

*  It  appears,  by  the  followring  lines  of  a  song,  in  Playford's 
'Choice  Songs  and  Ayres,  1673,  that  the  visitors  formerly  made  pre- 
'scnts  on  that  occasion  : 

"  About  the  May-pole  we  dance  all  a-round, 
*■  And  with  garlands  of  pinks  and  roses  are  crown'd  j 

Our  little  kind  tribute  we  merrily  pay 
To  the  gay  Lad  and  bright  Lady  o'  th'  May." 

*  signed 


337 

feigned  to  it,  incurred  a  fine  of  sixpence;  and  he  that  refused 
to  pay  was  forced  to  ride  my  Lord's  horse.  This  was  a  wooden 
machine,  about  four  feet  high,  borne  upon  poles,  and  having 
the  head  of  a  horse  with  a  bridle.  Upon  this  my  Lady  first 
inounted,  sideways,  holding  the  rein  ;  then  the  delinquent 
was  placed  behind  her,  and  both  carried  by  two  men  round 
the  May-pole.  A  fine  was  often  wilfully  incurred,  as  during 
the  ride  ii  became  the  duty  of  the  swain  to  salute  my  Lady ; 
and  whether  he  was  a  bashful  or  a  gay  gallant,  the  elevation 
and  the  deed  always  proved  a  subject  of  merriment  for  the 
spectators. 

To  these  festivals  the  Morris-dancers  came  in  sets  far  and 
near.  Those  fi-om  a  distance,  commonly  on  horseback,  with 
the  manes  and  heads  of  the  horses  decorated  with  flowers,  &c. 
They  usually  wore  a  shirt  closely  pleated,  buckskins,  or  white 
linen  breeches,  cotton  stockings,  and  pumps.  Six  bells,  fixed 
upon  the  outside  of  each  leg,  the  whole  dress  tastefully  adorned 
with  ribbons  and  while  handkerchiefs,  or  napkins,  to  use  in 
dancing.  In  procession,  first  came  the  fool,  next  the  piper, 
and  then  the  dancers  j  of  whom  twelve  seem  to  have  been  the 
customary  number.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  persons  to  at- 
tend them,  whose  only  task  was  the  care  of  their  cloaths. 

There  were  also  the  dancers  of  the  Bedlam-Morris.  They 
did  not  wear  bells,  and  were  distinguished  by  high  peaked  caps 
(such  as  are  worn  by  clowns  in  pantomimes)  adorned  with  rib- 
bons. Each  carried  a  stick  abnut  two  feet  long,  which  they 
used  with  various  gestulation  during  the  dance,  and,  at  inter- 
vals, struck  them  against  each  other.  A  clown  and  piper  at- 
tended them. 

The  greatest  number  of  Morris  dancers,  in  that  part  of 
England,  always  assembled  in  the  Whitsun-wcek  at  Dover 
Hill,  near  the  vale  of  Evesham,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Camp- 
den,  Weston,  and  Longmaston.  There  were  many  booths 
erected,  with  various  rural  sports  and  gymnastic  exercises.  * 

At  the  village  of  Finstock,  near  Charlbury,  Oxfordshire,  the 
Morris  is  held  by  prescription,  with  a  right  of  conmion,  of  a 
considerable  extent,  by  the  forest  of  Whichwood.  The  young 
men  and  maidens  claim  the  right  of  procuring  from  the  forest 
as  much  materials  for  the  bower,  as,  with  the  May-pole,  they 
can  draw  away,  always  preserving  leather  harness  for  that 
purpose,  and  when  the  sports  are  ended  the  bower  and  May-poie 
are  sold,  and  the  money  expended  in  malt,  from  which  is 
brewed  ale  for  the  ensuing  year.     At  Woodstock  and  Long- 

*  Dover-hill  was  probably  named  after  the  founder;  and  the 
sports,  above  alluded  to,  a  continuation  of  the  Cotswold  games. 

combe 


338 

tonibe  those  articles  are  usually  obtained  by  the  donation  of 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough. 

"  In  conclusion,"  said  my  informant,  "  I  may  assert  that  in 
forty  years  i  have  never  seen  so  much  innocent  mirth,  pleasure, 
and  happiness,  enjoyed  by  numbers,  as  in  those  meetings. 
Early  in  the  day  thfi  fiddle  was  heard  in  the  bovver,  the  young 
were  ready,  and  happy  in  their  mates,  and  the  dance  con- 
tinued, almost  without  stopping,  until  the  evening,  for  when 
some  wished  to  rest  there  were  others  crowding  near  and  wait- 
ing the  opportunity  to  join  the  merry  throng.  The  old  folks, 
gaily  dressed,  were  always  cheerful,  and  seemed  to  have  left 
their  little  ailments  at  home.  I  have  heard  the  May-games  cen- 
sured even  by  those  who  partook  of  them,  but  who  fortunately 
never  saw  the  vice  of  a  populous  city.  If  there  was  occasion- 
ally a  little  to  reprehend,  there  never  was  much  to  condemn  ; 
and  it  does  not  follow  that  recreation  must  create  idlent^ss  and 
vice,  because  it  suspends,  for  a  while,  the  labour  of  the  poor." 

J.H. 


^  Planetomachia :  or  the  first  parte  of  the  ge?ierall  op- 
position of  the  seuen  Planets;  wlwrein  is  Astrorio- 
mically  described  their  essence^  nature^  and  influ- 
ence: Diutrsly  discoiiering  i7i  their  pleasaunt  and 
Tragicall  histories  the  inward  affections  of  the 
mindes,  a?id  painting  them  out  in  such  perfect 
colours^  as  youth  may  perceiue  what  fond  fancies 
their  florishing  yeares  doe  foster  :  and  age  clerely 
see  what  dotijig  desires  their  withered  heares  doe  af- 
foorde.  Conteyning  also  a  brief e  Jpologie  of  the  sa- 
cred and  misticall  Science  of  Asironomie :  By  Ro* 
lert  Greene,  Master  of  Arts  and  student  in  Phisicke. 
1585.  Imprinted  at  London,  for  Thomas  Cadman^ 
dwelling  at  the  great  North  doore  of  S,  PauleSj  ai 
the  signs  of  the  Byble.  1585.  qto.  * 

Dedicated  to  Lord  Robert  Dudley,  Earle  of  Leicester, 
Baron  of  Denbigh,  &c.  concluding,  "  right  honorable,  I  hauc, 
mixed  .raelancbolie  with  musicke,  and  tempered  the  brawles  of 
the  planets  with  pleasaunt  though  tragical  histories ;  which  if 

•  Introduction  six  leaves.  Signatures  A,  B.  twice,  C  to  H 
regular,  all  in  fours ;  I  3  i  then  C.  D.  £.  of  four  each  and  F.  2. 
Inalli9  leaves. 

your 


S39 

your  Honour  shall  accept,  my  trauell  shall  be  so  requited,  as  If 
J  had  obtained  most  rich  treasures.  And  thus  hoping  your 
Honor  will  pardon  my  rasbnesse,  and  thinke  of  my  mind  more 
than  of  my  matter,  1  commit  your  Honour  to  the  Aimightie. 
Your  Honor's  in  all  duetifull  seruice  to  commaund,  Robert 
Greene." 

Advertisement.  "  To  tl  e  Gentlemen  Readers,  health.  I 
present  here  (Gentlemen)  vnto  yonr  woonted  courtesies,  a 
ciuill  conflict  betweene  the  seuen  planets  :  not  discouering  in 
this  pamphlet  any  straunge  or  myraculous  newes  of  the  oppo- 
sition or  aspect  of  the  starres,  but  onely  shewing  their  nature 
and  essence,  and  what  proper  qualities  their  celestiall  configu- 
ration and  influence  doth  infuse  into  humaine  bodies  :  so  that 
their  proper  dispositions  once  knowne,  it  shall  bee  easie  by 
their  outward  aftects  to  iudge  what  planet  is  chiefly  predomi- 
nant in  his  naturall  constitution  :  but  that  I  might  not  be  to  te- 
dious to  young  mindes,  I  have  interlaced  my  Astronomicall 
discourse  with  pleasant  tragedies,  that  your  profitable  haruest 
may  be  gleaned  together  with  delightfuU  paines.  And  thus 
committiug  my  selfe  and  my  labours  to  your  courtesie,  I  most 
hartely  and  humbly  bid  you  farewell.  Yours  to  vse,  Robert 
Greene." 

Commendatory  verses  follow.  In  Latin,  by  P.  H. 
Arviiger ;  English,  by  Henry  Gale,  Master  of  Artes, 
and  George  Meares,  Gentleman.  Then  a  brief  Apology 
of  the  sacred  science  of  Astronom}',  and  a  friendly 
dialogue,  in  Latin,  between  the  Author  and  Francis 
Hand,  Master  of  Arts,  each  in  eight  pages. 

The  Planetomachia  is  a  conversation  full  of  taunts 
and  **  biting  quips,"  at  a  meeting  of  the  fabulous  dei- 
ties, Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars,  Sol,  Venus,  Mercury  and 
Luna.  Venus  decyphers  Saturn's  malignant  disposition 
with  a  tragical  tale,  who  depicts  her  disordinate  and 
lawless  inclinations  in  a  similar  relation.  And  Jupiter 
makes  a  like  description  of  the  baneful  influence  of 
Mars.  Sol,  having  been  appointed  moderator  in  the 
controversy,  stays  Mars  in  reply,  the  night  having  cast 
a  dusky  mantle  over  the  sky,  adjourning  the  sacred  par- 
liament, until  Aurora  appeared  again,  and  until  then  di- 
recting "  all  to  remaine  as  friends,  without  any  quar- 
relous  dissentions.     Finis.     Robert  Greene." 

J.H. 


^  J  Strange 


340 

^  A  Strange  Horse-Hace.  Ji  the  end  of  which,  comes 
in  the  Vatch-pols  Masque.  And  after  that  the 
Bankiouts  Banquet:  which  done,  the  Diuell,  fall- 
ing sicke,  makes  his  last  Will  and  Testament^  this 
present  yeare.   I6l3.  Aliquid  latet ,  quod  non  pateti 

^  IVritten  hy  Thomas  Dekker.  London^  Printed  for 
Joseph  Hunt,  and  are  to  bee  sold  at  his  shop  in  Bed^ 
lem,  neere  Moore-feld  Gate.  1613.  qto.  Sig.  G.  ij. 

Dedicated  "  fo  the  very  worthy,  ivditiovs,  and  vnderstandr 
ing  gentleman,  Thomas  WaUiial,  Esquire.  If  I  put  into  your 
hands  [says  the  au'hor]  a  homely  piece  of  worke  (neither 
so  good  as  you  deserue,  nor  so  rich  as  I  do  wish  it)  I  must  en- 
treat you  to  blame  the  vanitieof  our  times,  which  are  so  phan- 
tasticall,  that  they  couet  sufFes,  rather  slight,  to  feede  tKe  eye 
with  shew,  then  substantial!  for  enduriqg.  Let  the  fashioii 
be  French,  it  is  no  matter  what  the  cloth  be.  I  haue  therefore 
not  (with  the  sturgeon)  swomme  against  the  streame,  but  fol; 
lowed  the  humourous  tides  of  this  age,  and  (like  Democritus) 
iiaue  falne  a  laughing  at  the  world,  sithence  it  does  nothing 
but  mocke  it  selfe. .  .^  .  Beare  with  the  hard-fauourdnesse  of 
the  title.  The  value  of  a  diamond  is  not  lessened  by  the  rough- 
nesse  when  it  is  vncut.  It  can  bfe  no  shame  to  gather  a  vio- 
let, growing  close  to  the  ground.  Had  I  better  you  should 
enjoy  it,  such  as  it  is,  if  you  entertaine,  I  shall  rest.  Most'af- 
fectipnately  denoted  yours,  Thomas  Dekker. '_« 

Then  the  following  advertisement  addr^sed  "  Not  to  tlie 
headers  :  but  to  the  Vnderstanders.  He  that  writes  liad  need 
to  haue  the  art  of  a  skilfull  cooke,  for  there  must  be  those  con- 
dimenta  (seasonings)  in  his  pen,  which  the  other  caries  on  his 
tongue :  a  thousand  palats  must  bee  pleased  with  a  thousand 
sawces:  and  one  hundred  lines  must  content  fine  hundred  dis- 
positions. A  hard  taske  :  one  sayes,  it  is  too  harsh  :  another, 
too  supple:  another,  too  tiiuiall:  another,  too  serious.  The 
first  reades,  and  mewes  :  the  second  reades,  and  railes :  the 
third  reades,  and  rackes  me:  the  fourth  reades,  and  rends  me. 
He  is  tycd  to  a  stake  like  a  beare  to  bee  baited,  that  comes  into 
Paule's  Church-yard  to  bee  read.  So  that  bare  readers  (I 
meane  not  threcd-bare)  are  not  Lectores,  but  Lictorcs,  they 
whip  bookes,  as  Dionysius  did  boyes,  whereas  to  vndtr- 
slanders,  our  libri,  which  we  bring  forth,  are  our  Liberi 
(the  children  of  our  braine)  and  at  such  hands  are  as  gently 
intreated  as  at  their  parents:  at  the  others,  not.  The  titles 
of  bookes  are  like  painted  chimnies  in  great  countrey-houses, 
make  a  shew  a  far  off  and  catch  ti-auellers  eyes;  but  com- 
ming  nerc  them,  neither  cast  they  smoke,  nor  hath  the  house 
the  heart  to  make  you  drjiike.      The  title  of  this  booke  is 


341 

like  a  jester's  face,  set  (howsoeuer  he  drawes  it)  to  beget 
mirth  :  but  his  ends  are  hid  to  himselfe,  and  those  are  to  get 
money.  Within  is  more  then  without }  you  shall  not  finde 
the  kirnell,  vnlesse  you  both  cracke  and  open  the  shell.  All- 
quid  latet,  quod  non  patet.  Digge  vnder  the  right  ttee,  and 
it  is  ten  to  one  but  you  take  vp  gold:  for  in  this  (as  in  all 
other  my  former  Nocturnis  lucuhrationibus)  I  haue  stroue  to 
feed  the  mind,  as  well  as  the  body  :  If  one  leafe  makes  yon 
laugh,  the  next  settles  your  countenance.  Tart  meates  go 
easily  downe,  being  strewd  with  sugar :  as  musicke  in  tauerns 
makes  that  wine  go  downe  merily  lill  it  confound  vs,  which  (if 
the  fidlers  were  not  there)  would  hardly  be  tasted.  So  for  the 
sake  of  the  sawce  which  I  haue  tempered  for  this  dish,  you 
may  (periiaps)  eate  the  meat  which  otherwise  you  would  not 
touch.  The  maine  of  my  building  is  a  moral  lalyriuth ;  a 
weake  thred  guides  you  in  and  out:  I  will  shew  you  how  to 
enter  and  how  to  pa«se  through,  and  open  all  the  roomes,  and 
all  the  priuate  walke,  that  when  you  come  to  them  you  may 
know  where  you  are  :  and  these  they  be — Yet  I  will  not ;  I 
know  it  is  more  pleasure  to  finde  out  the  conceitfuU  deceits  of 
a  paire  of  tarriers,  then  to  haue  them  discouered.  That  plea- 
sure be  yours,  the  tarriers  are  mine.     Farewell." 

"  The  Contents  of  this  booke.  A  strange  horse-race. 
Chariot  races.  Foot-races.  The  Sunnes  race.  The  Moones 
race.  Races  of  winds  and  water.  Races  of  the  Elements. 
Races  of  Vertues  and  Vices.  A  masque  of  Catch-pols.  Who 
are  Catch-pols.  The  Diuel's  falling  sicke.  His  Will  and  Le- 
gacies. His  RecOMery.  His  dam  brought  to  bed  with  two 
children.  Their  Nursing.  A  banquet  of  Bankrouts.  The 
comfit-makers  inuectiue  against  bankrouts." 

J.H. 


«]   The  Shfpheard's  Holiday.  Fo.  pp.  4.3.  MS. 

rT^  ',•        1..  rT>     •     xr  f  Thc  Ladv  Kemp 

[Dedicated]  To  the  Vertuous       |  ^^^  Thornton. 

"  Noble  Friends. 

"  He  that  is  so  well  acquainted  with  your  bountie  in  the 
plcntie  of  your  tables  may  blush  to  make  an  eclogue  your  en- 
tertainment; espcciallie,  to  invite  to  it.  Rusticitie  andplanie 
fare,  though  they  seeme  not  the  suiteable  wellcome  for  ladies, 
are  yet  sometimes  pleasant  by  the  rule  of  contraries.  Your 
apprehensions  being  of  the  acuter  pallate,  he  conci-iu'd  it  fitt  to 
present  you,  as  with  no  curious,  no  vulgar  cates;  the  pnvate 
commendation,  or  rather  the  testimoniail  in  his  absence  of  the 

VOL.  IV.  A  A  respects. 


312 

Mspccts,  he  owrs  yon  :  which  he  seemed  confident,  your  inge- 
nious dispositions  would  not  iuacceptablie  receiue  ;  being  both 
no  lesse  nble  to  judge  of  the  ingervuitie  and  intention  of  the 
.  authour,  than  prudent  to  haue  devested  its  outward  dresse,  and 
discoutred  the  meaning  of  the  poen.e,  without  his  setting  a  hand, 
to  the  niorall.  But  being  moued  with  a  kind  of  excf  sse  of  ci- 
\  illilie  lo  waiie  vpcni  your  vnderstandings  rather  than  to  secmc, 
to  instruct  you,  he  hath  thought  it  no  vmomelie  vndertaking. 
1,0  prefixcthe  ensueing  key  cr  clavis  to  this  p4.torall,  or  eclogue, 
wliich  might  heretofore  haue  passt  for  a  masque,  had  it  not  bene 
for  vizards. 

"  The  Mouall.  In  Dactylon,  which  is  Digitus,  a  fingar, 
jileabe  to  receiue  direction  to  the  whole  discourse,  as  the  key  to, 
the  cabinet,  or  observation  of  times  and  humours.  Wherein, 
tnking  the  habit  of  a  palmer  (who  is  a  religious  travailer)  vndrr 
that  vmbrage  of  gravitie  he  is  the  fitter  to  discover  disposition*. 
He  lines  with  old  Geron,  and  is  pretended  Geron'b  heyre ;. 
signifieiiig,  that  observation  is  the  pretended  heyre  of  age:  but 
Art  ton  (which  is  verme)  that  travailes,  lines  abroad  and  is 
actiue,  is  the  pro[ier  inh(  riiour  of  the  goods  of  time.  Ihat 
he  is  the  genius  of  those  plaines  signifies  the  ioleliigtoce  of  af- 
faires which  conduceth  to  obstrvaiion. 

"  Dalon,  isTitio,  a  fire-brand,  that  is  fired  at  one  end,  de- 
noting conjugall  loue,  and  as  a  brand  is  lasting,  shewes  con- 
stancie  of  affection.  A  brand  is  to  sett  other  fuell  on  fiie, 
burning  not  well  alone.  Conj'igall  affeciion,  in  like  manner, 
kindleth  each  oilser's  chast  fianie.  That  they  keep  tJie  fea^l 
some  time  after  the  marriage  is  the  sobjieiie  ot  theire  affection, 
as  well  as  continuance.  The  feast  is  the  happinesse  of  each, 
other's  enjoyment.  The  best  lambe  of  theire  Eocke  is  a  re-, 
ligious  example.     Dalon  is  wisedome. 

"  Beta  is  the  second  letter  oi'  the  Greeke  alphabet.  lh« 
alphabet  deciphers  a  familie.  Alpha  is  Paterfamilias,  the 
lord  and  master;  Beta  is  the  lady,  mistris,  or  dame  of  the 
louse  ;  the  other  vovvells  are  the  cliildren ;  the  rest  of  the  con- 
sonants are  the  servants;  and  as  these  joyned  make  proper  and 
distinct  significations,  so  the  other  sevrrallie  imployed  in  oeco- 
nomicall  vse,  or  household  affaires,  conduce  to  get.erall  ncii  n\ 
and  benefitt.  In  Beta  you  may  read  the  vnd(  rstnuding,  or,  if 
you  please  to  vndraw  the  curtaine,  you  may  beho'd  lone, 
modestie,  and  obedience,  and  th«  proper  pourtraict  of  a  \\  ife, 
who  seekes  knowledge  from  wisdonje,  as  tlie  hu-band.  The 
sheepheards  bower  is  the  shadow  of  sober  pleasure  and  con- 
tentment. 

^  "  Bilkin  is  the  cbaracfer  of  temperance,  moderation,  discre- 
tion and  judgement,  who  vnder  the  sheepheards  lifccommendes 
innocence  of  life  and  retirement  from  the  world.  That  Bilkin 
and  Vida  with  Dalon  and  Beta  sitt  as  moderators  shewes  that 

Dalon's 


S43 

Dalon's  wisedome  and  knowledge.  Beta's  !oue  and  mode-jfie, 
Vida's  experience  and  Bilkin's  discreiion  are  all  conducent  to 
the  faire  deciMon  of  controversie,  which  cannot  be  ended,  till 
they  go  to  Pega  s  foantaine  which  is  lUe  roote  of  the  cause,  and 
the  clear  evidence  of  truth. 

Vida  is  experience.  <*,[ 

Vota  intimates  virginitie  ;  innocence  in  single  life,  devotion 
and  contemplation,  de  ighting  in  freedome  and  avoiding  mar- 
Tiage,  as  the  commixiure  with  the  cares  of  the  wo5ld.  It  sig- 
nifies also  libertieand  a  desire  tocommaund.  Sbee  is  lost  in 
lover's  maze,  that  is,  amused  aniidst  the  passions  of  the  mind. 
The  lover'smaze  represents  the  world,  wherein  there  are  varietie 
of  pathes,  of  temptations  and  turnings,  Eccho  is  flatterie. 
Shee  findes  her  companie  by  a  song,  which  is,  that  considera- 
tion does  reduce  her  to  herselfe  againe  but  not  without  divine 
grace.  Her  garland  is  bordred  with  primerose  signifying  time- 
rousnes;  briars-rose,  modestie  j  skye-colour'd  virgin's  bower, 
sereniiie;  violets,  gracefuilnes  of  looke  and  sweet-report  j 
jac'nth's,  steadines  or  constancie,  which  pt events  levity  and 
wantonnes ;  ros-solis,  beiuitie,  youth,  comelines ;  golden- 
flower-gentlt's,  curtesie  and  warincs,  resisting  temptations'; 
Scarlet-lone  Siluer-pinne,  comelie  adornment  and  convenient 
portion. 

Lipsona  signifies  chast  desire  ;  inclines  to  a  married  life  and 
defendes  lawfuU  subjection.  It  is  derived  from  the  figurfc 
Liptote,  which  is  the  shortnes  of  expression  according  to 
greatnes  of  matter,  and  Sonus  a  sonnd  ;  which  is  the  nature  of 
ehast  desire  ;  that  its  modestie  is  difficult  o^' speech  to  deliuer 
the  largenes  of  its  apprehensions  ;nul  the  merit  of  its  subject. 
Her  garland  of  marringe  is  bordered  with  marigolds,  that  is, 
duty  and  obedience.  Tlie  ground  is  made  of  pinks,  that  is, 
modestie  w'''.  appeares  in  blushes.  It  is  made  of  mother  of 
time,  good  huswifiie.  Much-gond  specifies  vertue.  Money- 
wort a  proper  portion  and  reasonal)le  mriintenance.  All  healc 
is  meekenes.  Angelica,  charilie.  Rose- willow,  continencie. 
Roses,  love  and  pictie,  which  Hue  in  the  fragrancie  of  their 
perfumes,  and  are  said  to  be  a  medicine  for  all  things.  Iris, 
.as  named  of  its  various  colours  from  the  rainbow,  de- 
notes the  covenant  of  matrimonje}  the  mindfullnes  wherepf 
dolh  helpe  the  convulsion  of  di.sorderlie  passions,  and  strength- 
ens, orconfirmes  resolution  w'"*'.  is  the  sinewes  of  the  mind. 
Asphodills  conji.gall  loue  w''\  allayes  t  he  inflamma-'ion  of  theire 
breasts,  and  by  its  assistance  or  application  cures  the  painc  ia 
the  side  which  it  heales  and  h.t!pes  each  others  infirmities. 
Gold  of  Pleasure  contentment.  Gardiner's  delight  cheerful!- 
iits,  and  eglantine  confidence. 

"  Tompkin  shewes  youth  and  nntiirall  iffeci'wn  and  inclina-r 

lion,  too  mnch  led  away  with  worldiie  humane  desires,  ai id  in- 

A  A  2  temperaw 


344 

temperate  passions :  i«i  whom  you  may  read  such  exccsse  of 
louc. 

"  Jaclin  mentioucth  humour  and  plcasance  of  wltt,  a  de- 
tpiser  of  loue. 

"  Sylvans  are  rusticke  neighbourhood,  that  frollicke  it  at  so- 
lemnities, 

"  fJeron  is  age,  or  time. 

"  Pega  shadowes  out  trueth.  As  springs  rise  from  vnder 
ground  50  iriieih,  tlioui^h  some  time  in  obscuritie,  at  last  ap- 
(pf-areth  as  cleare  as  those  springs,  flowing  continu.dlie.  Pega 
;ipp^'aresby  invocation,  and  the  light  of  trueth  is  obtained  from 
the  Divine  hand  by  prayer.  Pega  is  a  tountaine ;  shee  i-*  a 
virgin  for  her  puritie,yet  married  10  Cunialhalas  a  triton  of  the 
seas. 

"  yi'lta.  is  Vnda,  a  waue.  $x\d(r<ros  is  Mare,  the  sea.  Shee 
h  married  to  a  waue  of  the  sea,  that  is,  subject  to  be  tossed 
and  tumbled  vp  and  downe  the  wide  ocean  of  crrour  and  sea  of 
I  he  world. 

'  Cumathalas  is  a  favourite  to  Ops,  because  the  earth  re- 
ceives the  waters  into  her  bosomc  through  her  many  cavernes. 
Cumathalas  wannes  her  with  embraces,  both  in  respect  of  the 
».iltnes  of  the  water,  <omming  first  from  sea,  and  that  troubles 
secme  to  make  trueth  appcare  the  more  liuelie. 

"  By  this  time,  ladies,  I  haue  led  you  a  long  walke ;  'tis 
time  to  rest  you,  and  for  me  to  kisse  your  hanfis  with  my   best 
Y'ishes  ;  and  with  most  cordiall  thankcs  to  render  you  acknow- 
ledgement for  all  your  noble  favours,  to 
Your  mo^t  obliged  Priend, 

June  I,  and  humble  Servant, 

1051.  Wm.  Demne." 

This  little  moral  mask  is  divided  into  s\x  scenes, 
find  is  written  in  rhyme.  Neither  the  name  of  the 
author,  nor  title  of  his  piece,  occur  in  the  Riographia 
Oramaticu;  and  the  manuscript  copy,  in  my  posses- 
sion, appears  to  have  been  that' presented  to  his  pa- 
tronesses. Tlie  characters  are  already  described,  and 
the  story,  which  is  of  very  simple  construction,  may 
be  gathered  fiom  the  following  lines; 

"  On  these  plaincs. 
Old  customes  Hue  an  well  asyouthfuli  swaines. 
Customes  arc  rules  that  lines  of  life  do  draw, 
"Which,  'mongst  v»  Shecpheards  stand  instead  wfiaw. 
The  feast  of  rites  vpon  this  ide  of  May, 
Our  living  bookes  ordaine  a  holyday  : 
Whereon  the  cotjple  youngest,  and  last  wed. 
At  Sheeplieards  bower  the  garni^ht  cloath  shall j9|^«ad. 

And 


34o 

And  on  I  he  tnrfie  table  with  the  best      '■ '    ''■■'  -'*•*' 

Of  lambs  in  all  theire  flocke  shall  heyne  the  fea^t. 

Which  neighb'ring  swaines,  and  lasses  of  next  place 

Shall  prr.sent,  with  due  ceremonies  grace. 

'Mongsi  which  two  youths,  two  maids,  of  equall  yeares 

To  th'  bridf  and  bridegroom,  chosen  by  theire  peeres. 

Shall  'bont  a  question  by  their  songs  contend  : 

Two  moderators  are  the  cause  to  end. 

Of  each  sexe  one.     One  youth,  one  maid  main'aine. 

While  theese  two  like  do  irosse  the  same  againe. 

Each  virgin  bringes  a  garland  of  device, 

Wliich  neere  the  bower  on  poplar  ribband  tyes. 

To  highest  worth,  as  moderator  see. 

Are  given  these  gailand  signt-s  of  victorie. 

But  if  theire  equall  merits  so  divide, 

Tliat  neither  moderator  can  decide  : 

Then  in  procession  to  the  holy  g^oue,  'V'  ^''"* 

At  Pega's  fount  they  seek  for  what  they  s'roue.  ^'■'"'■f  -yd* 

Where,  riles  perfornj'd,  the  Nymph  invokt  does  show,  V 

Who  best  deserues,  as  they  dCbire  to  know.'^  ""' 

J.  H. 


^  The  Fortvuate  Farewell  to  the  moat  forward  and 
noble  Earle  of  E  srx,  one  of  the  honorable  priuie 
CouTtsel,  Earle  high  Marshal  of  Evgland,  Muster 
of  the  horse,  Master  of  the  ordiname.  Knight  of 
the  garteVy  &"  Lord  Litulenant  gcmrul  of  all  the 
Queene's  Maiesties  forces  in  Ireland.  Dedicated  to 
the  right  Honorable  the  Lord  Harry  Seamei,  second 
Sonne  to  the  last  Duke  of  Sonimerset,  Written  by 
Thomas  Churchuard,  Esquire.  Printed  at  London 
by  Edm.  lioWJant,  for  William  Wood  at  the  zcest 
doore  of  Ponies.   \5^Q.  4to.  4  leaves. 

At  the  back  of  the  title  is  the  dedication,  whereby,  "  to  the 
right  honorable  the  L.  Harry  Seamer,  Thomas  Churchyard 
wisheth  continuance  of  vertue,  blesscdnesse  of  minde,  and 
wished  fclicitie."^  Continuing,  "  in  all  duty— (my  good 
Lord)  I  am'  bold,  because  your  most  honorable  father  the 
Duke  of  Somfeerset  (vncle  to  the  renowmed  impe  of  grace 
noble  King  Edv^ard  the  sixt)  fauoured  me  when  I  was  troubled 
bclore  the  Lords  of  the  Counsell,  for  writing  some  of  my  tirst 
Vf  rses  :  in  requital  whereof  euer  since  I  haue  honored  all  hi« 
Jioble  race,  and  knowing  your  LordUiip  in  sea  seruices  forward 


346 

and  ready  in  all  honorable  manner  (sparing  for  no  charges) 
when  the  Spanyardsapprochedneere  ourcountrie,  I  bethought 
n>e  how  I  might  be  thankfiill  lor  good  tames  found  *  of  your 
noble  progenie,  though  vnable  therefore  finding  myselfe  vnfur- 
nished  of  all  things  woorthy  presentation  and  acceptance,  I 
tooke  occasion  of  the  depnrture  of  a  most  woortny  Earle  to- 
tvardcs  the  seruie  in  Ireland,  so  made  a  present  to  your  Lord- 
ship of  his  happy  Farewell  as  I  hope  :  and  trust  to  iiue  and  see 
his  w'lshed  welcome  home."  f  It  is  subscribed  "  your  L.  in 
all  at  comraandemrnt,  Thomas  Churchyard."  X 

This  address  forms  a  poein  of  twelve  stanzas.  It 
commences : 

"  The  happy  Farewell  to  the  fortunate  and  forward  most 
noble  Kark  of  Essex. 

"  Now  Scipio  sails,  to  AfTiick  f^r  from  hoem,  § 
The  Lord  of  boests,  and  battels  be  his  gied, 
Now  when  green  trees,  begins  to  bud  and  bloem. 
On  Irish  seas,  Eliza's  ships  shall  ried, 
A  warliek  band,  of  worthy  knights  I  hoep, 
Aer  arm'd  for  fight,  a  blondy  brunt  to  bied. 
With  rebels  shall,  boeth  might  and  manhoed  coep. 
Our  contreis  right,  and  quarrell  to  be  tried  : 
Right  maeks  wrong  bhish,  and  troeth  bids  falsbed  flj. 
The  sword  is  drawn,  Tykoen's  dispatch  draws  ny. 

A  traitor  most  be  taught  to  know  his  king, 
When  Marsshal  march,  with  shining  sword  in  hand, 
A  crauen  cock,  cries  creak  and  hangs  down  wing. 
Will  run  about  the  shraep  and  daer  not  stand. 
When  cocks  of  gaera,  conns  in  togiue  a  bloe. 
So  false  Tyroen,  may  faint  when  he  would  fight 
Though  now  alowd,  on  dunghill  doth  he  croe. 
Traitors  wants  hart,  and  often  laeks  the  flight : 

•  This  word  is  supplied  on  conjecture  from  the  last  two  let- 
ters nd  j  the  page  being  cartaikd  by  some  inattentive  binder. 

■^  In  1599  he  also  pviblished  "  the  welcome  home  of  the  Erie 
of  Essex,"  reprinted  in  the  Frogreisis,  Vol.  II. 

X  There  has  lately  been  printed  at  Oxford  Bibliographical  Mis- 
eellatnesy  being  a  selection  of  curious  pieces,  in  verse  and  prose  :  con- 
taining a  metricallife  of  Chiiribyard.  The  very  limired  impres- 
sion of  this  volume  lias  probably  before  now  placed  it  out  of  the 
power  of  the  intelligent  reader  to  obtain  a  copy. 

$  Churchyard  appears  to  have  indulged  occa&ionally  in  a  fan- 
tastic and  indefensible  orthography. 

^   •  When 


347 

When  rebels  see,  th'*}'  af^.r  snrprie'd  hy  troeth 
Pack  hence  in  haest.  away  the  rebels  goelh." 

The  following  picture  miiy  be  applied  as  forming  a 
faint  outline  of  tiie  desiruction  that  sweeps  at  the  he«ls 
of  the  present  marauder  of  the  continent.* 
"  Fostred  from  faith,  and  fear  of  God  or  man, 
Vnlernd  or  laughf,  of  any  graces  good, 
Nurst  vp  in  vict^,  wliear  f  ilsehed  first  began, 
Mcrcyles  l;oern,  irtill  sheading  gililcs  bloo  ', 
Libertiens  lewd,  tliat  all  good  ordf-r  hacts,  ,_' 

Murtherers  viel,  of  weinen  great  with  childe.  * 

Cruel]  as  kitts,  despising  n,l  estaet';, 
Diulisbly  bent,  boeih  currisli.  stern  and  wilde  : 
Their  wheel  dcuice,  is  rooet  of  mischeeues  all,,  i. 

That  seeks  a  plaeg,  on  their  own  heds  to  fall.  j 

Will  God  permit,  such  monsters  to  bcare  sway. 
His  justice  haets,  the  steps  of  tyrants  still, 
I'heir  damnab'e  deeds,  craues  vengeance  euery  day, 
W'^hich  God  doih  scourge,  by  his  own  blessed  will. 
He  plantelh  force,  to  tiing  down  feeble  strength. 
Men  of  mu'ch  worth,  to  weaken  things  of  noght, 
Whnes  cloked  craft,  shall  suer  be  seen  at  length, 
When  vnto  light,  dark  dealings  shall  be  broght : 
Sweet  ciuill  lords,  shall  sawsy  frllowes  meet 
Who  must  ask  grace,  on  knees  at  honor's  feet," 

He  concludes : 

"  F'rewell  sweet  Lords,  Knight',  Captains,  and  the  rest, 
Wiiogoes  with  you,  larks  threefold  ihankfull  pain, 
V.  ho  sets  you  forth,  is  ten  times  treble  blest. 
Who  serues  you  well,  reaps  glory  for  their  gain, 
Who  dit-s  shall  Hue,  in  faeni  ;miong  tlie  best, 
Who  rau  s  shall  loek,  and  laugh  theas  broils  to  scorn. 
AH  honest  haits,  doth  ciuill  warr  detest. 
And  curse  the  time,  that  ear  Tyrof.n  was  born  : 
We  hoepgood  hap,  waits  on  the  fleet  that  goes, 
And  God's  great  help,  shall  clean  destroy  our  foes." 

J.  H. 

♦  This  was  prep-ired  for  the  press  in  November  iSiz.  A  little 
space  has  elapsed  for  the  affairs  of  states;  scarcely  the  solar  year 
completed,  and  the  a!l-\*ise  Onmiscient  bus  decreed  "  to  Aing 
down  feeble  strength." 


f[  Polichronicon. 


348 


IF  politromccit* 

A  copy  of  the  Policronicon,  printed  by  Wynken  de 
Worde,  hnving  the  title,  is  rarely  discovered.  The 
only  one  I  have  ever  seen  is  before  me ;  it  formerly 
belonged  to  William  Booth,  of  Witton,  near  Birming- 
ham, the  correspondent  of  the  learned  Dugdale,  and 
now  enriches  the  valuable  collection  of  my  friend  Mr. 
Phelps.  The  word  "  Policronicon,"  is  in  gothic  let- 
ters, above  an  inch  long,  printed  in  black,  over  a 
wood-cut,  six  inches  and  three  quarters  long,  by'four 
and  a  half  wide.  The  subject,  a  group  of  religious 
characters,  having  crosiers,  &,c.  attending  to  heaf  the 
scripture  expounded  by  a  person  on  an  elevated *seat, 
before  a  desk  and  book,  a  cardinal's  hat  lying  on  the 
ground,  and  a  lion  sejatit,  in  the  middle  of  the  as- 
sembly. In  sjn  upper  compartment  is  a  meagre  land- 
scape, in  perspective,  with  a  castle  on  a  distant  emi- 
nence to  the  left,  and  to  the  right  the  entrance  and  part 
of  a  convent  or  c  burch. 

At  the  back  of  the  title  is  a  poem  in  five  stanzas,  en- 
tituled  "An  Introductone  Anno  dn~i  M.cccc  Ixxxxv." 
See  Dilidins  Jmcs,  Vol.  II.  p.  50. 

The  whole  volume  is  printed  in  double  columns,  and 
the  **  Proheraye"  commences  with  a  a  ii,  and  ends- in 
the  first  column  on  the  reverse  of  a  a  iii.  The  table  of 
contents  begins  with  a  a  iiii.  and  at  the  bottom  of  the 
second  column  of  h  h  v  *  is  "  Explicit  Tabula  vltimi 

The  work  commences  with  signature  a  i,  "  and  the 
leues  be-marked  in  the  hede,"  with  Roman  capitals. 
The  following  colophon  ends  with  the  secQnd  column 
upon  the  reverse  of  I'ol.  CCC  xl,vi.  sig.  X  vii. 

',*  ^  And  here  I  make  an  ende  of  thys  lytyll  werkeas  nyghc 
as  I  can  fynde  after  the  fourme  of  the  werke  tofore  made  by 
Ranulph  monke  of  Cbestre.  And  where  as  there  is  fawte,  I 
bescche  theym  that  shall  rede  it  to  correct  it.  For  yf  I  cowde 
haue  founde  moo  storyes.  1  wolde  baue  sette  in  it  moo.    Bu,t  the 

•  Signature  a  a  has  eight  leaves,  all  the  following  signattires, 
to  the  end  of  the  tab'e,  only  six  each.  The  remainder  of  the 
volume  is  in  tights,  the  first  alphabet  being  sjuall  letter,  and  the 
concluding  alphabet  capitals. 

substautice 


349 

substaunce  that  I  can  fynde,  and  knowc  I  haue  shortly  sette 
theim  in  this  boke.  To  the  entente  that  suche  ihyngcs  at 
haue  ben  done  sith  thedeth  or  ende  of  the  sayd  boke  of  Poly- 
cronycon  sholde  be  hadde  in  remembraunce.  And  not  put  in 
oblyuyon  ne  fargefynge.  Prayenge  all  theym  that  shall  see 
this  symple  werke  to  pardon  me  of  my  symple  writynge. 
%  Ended  the  thyrtenth  day  of  Apryll  the  tenth  yere  of  the 
regne  of  kyng  Harry  the  seuenth.  And  of  the  Incarnacyon  of 
our  lord  :  M.  CCCC.  Ixxxxv.  <f[  Enprynted  at  Westmestre  by 
Wynkyn  Theworde." 

Another  edition  of  this  work  was  printed  at  the 
Southwark  press  by  a  foreigner,  named  Peter  Treveris, 
and  to  the  same  fortunate  friend  I  am  indebted  for  the 
loan  of,  what  is  equally  uncommon,  a  perfect  copy. 
It  wafS  printed  in  1527,  and  the  title-page  forms  three 
compartments.  First,  a  wood-cut,  in  three  divisions, 
with  the  portrait  of  the  king,  central  between  the 
royal  and  city  arms,  each  in  circles,  and  the  cross  and 
dagges  of  the  last  in  red,  and  the  whole  upon  a  dark 
ground,  with  a  large  royal  crown  above  in  the  middle. 
ISecond,  "  Polycronycon,"  printed  in  red,  with  large 
gothic  letters.  Third,  a  wood-cut,  about  six  inches 
wide,  by  five  inches  high,  The  subject  a  spirited  re- 
])resentation  of  St.  George  killing  the  Dragon,  with 
•*  Savncte  Georgici,"  on  the  borders  of  the  trappings 
of  the  horse;  and  the  tdjigue  of  the  monster,  the  two 
crosses  upon  the  shield,  and  embroidery  of  the  trap- 
pings, and  the  mark  of  John  Keyne,  the  publisher,  (as 
engraved  by  Ames)  at  the  bottom  of  the  page,  all  in 
red.  At  the  back  of  the  title  the  introductory  lines, 
already  noticed.  Then  follow  the  pi'ohemy,  table  and 
work.  Thisieprint  is  nearly  paginary,  the  signatures  and 
folios  being  precisely  the  same  as  in  the  volume  above 
described.  The  only  variation  appears  the  introduc- 
tion of  a  few  wood-cuts  ;  the  first,  an  English  king, 
in  armour,  occurs  at  the  head  of  '^  Sequitur  liber 
qiiintus,"  on  the  recto  of  fol.  Ixxxii,  and  on  the  re- 
verse, which  is  blank  in  De  Worde's  edition,  a  repre- 
sentation of  a  battle.*  The  passage  above  q^uoted^js 
given  at  the  end^  without  the  date:  "  pardoune  me  of 

♦  Seffac  similies  of  that  and  other  of  the  wood-cuts  in  Dib- 
Su's  Preliminary  Disquisition  before  Jmes,  Vol.  I.  p.  xii-xv. 
Where  also  some  of  the  capitals  used  by  Treveris  are  engraved 
in  PHt^ni.       •'      '  '    •         • 

my 


350 

my  symple  wrytynge.  ^  Finis.  Vltirai  libri."  The 
colophon  is  upon  a  distinct  leaf,  central  of  an  elegant 
and  spirited  border,*  and  as  foilows.  "  ^  Imprented  in 
Soiithwerke,  by  iny,  Peter  'I'reueris,  at  y^  expence  of 
John~  Reynes,  boke  seller,  at  the  sygne  of  saynt 
George,  in  Poules  chyrchyarde.  ^The  }  ere  of  our 
Jorde  god  M,  CCCCC.  &.  xxvii.  the  xvi.  daye  of 
Maye :"  On  the  second  page  the  wood-cuts  of  the 
title  repeated. 

W.  de  Worde's  edition  of  the  Polycronicon,  is  a 
reprint  of  that  by  Caxton  in  1482.  The  i^oheniye  is 
all  copied  from  Caxton,  except  in  the  proniise  of  the 
coniinuHtion  of  the  history  for  the  hist  138  years, 
whicli  De  V^'^orde  has  not  performed.  We  shall  give 
the  Prohemy  entire  from  De  VVorde,  knowing  how 
frequently  the  copies  are  deficient  in  that  particu- 
lar. 

*'  Prohemy e. 

"  Crete  tliankyngcs  laude  and  honour  we  mcrytoryouslyben 
bounde  to  yeld^  and  oftVe  vnto  wryters  of  hys!oryes  whiche 
gretely  iiaue  proutFyted  our  mortall  lyfe,  that  shtwe  vnto  the 
reders  and  heercrs  by  the  ensamp'es  of  thynges  passed,  what 
thynge  is  to  be  desyred,  and  what  is  to  be  esclmwed.  For 
those  thynges  whiche  our  progeny  tours  by  the  taste  of  bytter- 
nesse  and  experyment  of  giete  Jen])ardyes  haue  enseygned,  ad- 
monested,  and  enformed  vs  excluded  fro  suche  peiyiles,  to 
knowewhat  is  proufFytable  to  ouie  life, and  acceptab!e,and  what 
is  vnproufFyt<jble  and  to  be  refused.  He  is  and  eucr  h.itli  ben 
reputed  the  wysest,  whiche  by  the  experience  of  t'.e  aduerse 
fortune  hath  beh(ilden  and  seen  the  noble  (^y tees,  nianers,  and 
varyaunt  condycions  of  the  people  of  many  dyuerse  Regyons. 
For  in  hym  is  presupposed  the  loore  of  wysedome  and  polycye, 
by  the  exptryment  of  Jeopardyes  and  peiyiles  whiche  haue 
growcn  of  folye  in  dyuerse  partyes  and  con  trees.  Yet  he  is 
more  fortunate,  and  maye  be  reputed  as  wyse,  yf  he  gyue  at- 

*  Having  war  trophies  and  ornaments  up  the  sides;  at  the 
bottom,  the  conclusion  of  a  boar  hunt  by  boys,  having  speais 
and  hounds,  loose  and  in  leash  ;  at  the  top,  a  triumph  exhibiting 
a  iemale  on  a  four  wheel  carriage  with  the  dead  animal  before 
her,  and  the  boys  in  precession,  the  leader  blowing  a  bugle.  As 
several  ot  these  ui chins  have  wings,  the  story  may  be  founded  on 
that  of  Adonis,  in  a  fanciful  attempt  of  making  the  Lovrs  slay  the 
animal  that  killtd  him,  and  the  triumph  of  Venus  upon  the  vic- 
tor. 

tendaunce 


351 

tendaunce  withoute  tastynge  of  the  storraes  of  aduersyte  (hat 
may  by  the  redyngof  hyst;.ryesconteynvngedyuerse  customes, 
condyc'ons,  lawes,  nndacits  of  sondry  nacyons  come  vnto  the 
knowlecbe  and  vnderstandyng  of  the  same  wysedome  and 
polvcye.  In  whiche  hystoryes  so  wryttn  in  large  and  aourned 
volumes,  he  syttynge  in  his  chamber  or  studye  maye  rede, 
knowe,  and  vnderstonde  the  poiytyke  and  noble  actes  of  alle 
the  worlde  as  of  one  Cyte,  And  the  conflyctes  errours, 
troubles,  and  vexacions  done  in  the  sayd  vnyuersalle  worlde. 
In  sLiche  wyse  as  he  hadde  ben  and  seen  them  in  the  propre 
places  where  as  they  were  done.  For  certayne  it  is  a  greete 
fortune  vnto  a  man  that  can  be  refourmed  by  other  and 
straunge  mennes  hurtes  and  scathes.  And  by  the  same  to 
knowe,  what  is  reqnysyte  and  prouffytable  for  his  lyfe.  And 
eschewe  snche  erroures  and  Jnconuenytes,  by  whiche  other 
men  bane  ben  hurte  and  lo-,te  th^-yr  felycyte.  ^  I  hcrfore  the 
counseylles  of  auncyent  and  whyte  h-ered  men,  in  whomeolde 
age  hath  engendred  wysedome,  ben  grctc-ly  preysed  of  yon<''er 
men.  And  yet  hystoryes  so  moche  more  excelle  thern.  As 
the  dyuturnyte  or  lengthe  of  tyrae  Includtth  moo  ensamples  of 
ihynges  and  laudable  actes  then  the  age  of  one  man  may  suf- 
fyse  to  see.  ^[  Hystoryes  ought  not  oonlyto  be  Juged  mcost 
proufTy table  to  yonge  men,  whiche  by  the  lecture,  redynge, 
and  vndefstandyngc  make  them  se;nblable  and  eqnalf  to  men 
of  gretter  age,  and  to  olde  men,  to  whome  longe  lyfe  hath 
mvnystrt- d  expsrymentes  of  dyuerse  ihynges,  but  also  th\  storycs 
able  and  make  ryght  prvuate  men  dygne  and  worthy  to  haue 
the  gouernaunce  of  Empyres  and  noble  Royammes,  hystoryes 
meone  and  withdiawe  Emperours  and  kynges  fro  vycyous  Ty- 
rannye.  Fro  vecordyous  sleuthe  vnto  Tryumphe  and  vyctorye 
in  puyssaunt  bitayiles.  Hysroryes  also  hane  ineoutd  right 
noble  knyghte^  to  deserue  etf mall  laude,  whiche  foloweth  them 
for  theyr  vyctoryous  merytes.  And  cause  them  more  valyantly 
to  entre  in  Jeopardyes  of  bataylles  for  the  defence  and  tuycyon 
of  theyr  countree,  and  pnblyke  wele.  Hystorye  also  affrayeth 
croell  Tyrauntes  for  drede  of  Infamve  &  shame  Infynyte,  by 
cause  of  the  detestable  actes  of  suche  cruell  persones  ben  oflymes 
planted  and  regystred  in  Cronycles  vnto  theyr  perpetuell  obpro- 
brye  and  dyuulgacion  of  theyr  Infamye.  As  the  Actes  of 
Nero  and  suche  other.  %  Truly  many  of  hye  and  couragyous 
men  of  grete  empryse,  desyrynge  th'^yr  fame»to  be  perpetnelly 
Conserued  by  lyberall  monumentes,  which  ben  the  permanente 
recordesof  euery  vertuous  and  noble  Acie,  haue  bnylded  and 
edefyed  Ryall  and  noble  Cytees.  And  for  the  conseruacion  of 
the  wele  publycke  haue  mynystred  and  establyssiied  dyscrete 
and  prouffytable  lawes.  %  And  thus  the  pryncypall  laude, 
and    cause   of  delectable   and   amyable   thyngcs,   in   whiche 

maiines 


352 

mahnes  felycyte  storicleth  and  resteth  ought  and  maye  well  be 
attrybuted  to  bysioryes,  whiche  worde  hystorye  maye  be  de- 
scryued  thus.  %  Hystorye  is  a  perpetual!  conseruatryce  of 
those  ihynges,  that  haue  be  done  before  this  presente  tyme, 
and  also  a  cotydyan  wytnesse  of  byenfayttes,  of  aialcfayies, 
grete  Actes  and  Tryumphall  vyctoryes  of  all  maner  people. 
And  also  yf  the  terryble  feyned  Fables  of  Poetes  haue  mocbc 
5tyred  &  meoucd  men  to  pyte,  and  conseruyiige  of  Justyce. 
How  moche  more  is  to  be  supposed,  that  hystorye  assertryce  of 
veryte  as  moder  of  allc  Phylosophye,  meouynge  our  maner* 
to  vertue,  refourmeth  and  reconcyled  ner  honde  all  those  men, 
whiche  thrugh  the  Jufyrmyte  of  our  mortall  nature  hath 
ledde  the  raoost  parte  of  theyr  lyfe  toOcyosyte  and  myspended 
theyr  tyme  passed  right  soone  out  of  Remembraunce.  Of 
whiche  lyfe  and  deth  is  egall  oblyuynn.  The  frnytes  of  verlue 
ben  Immortall,  specyally  whanne  ihey  ben  wrapped  in  the 
benefvce  of  hystoryes.  ^F  Thenne  it  muste  folowe,  that  it  is 
moost  fayr  to  men  mortall  to  suflre  labours  and  payne.forglorye 
and  fame  Inmortalle.  Hercules  whan  he  lyufd  sufiVed  greete 
labours  and  perylles  wylfully  puttyng  hymselfe  iii  many'terryble 
and  ferdfuU  Jeopardyes  to  obteyneof  all  people  the  benefaytes 
of  lumortall  laude  and  renomme.  ^  We  rede  of  other  noble 
men,  some  lordes  and  some  other  of  lower  estates  reputed  as 
goddes  in  dyuerse  regyons,  the  whose  fairons  Actes,  and  excel- 
lent vcrtues  oonly  hystorye  hath  preserued  fro  pcrysshyng  in 
eternall  memorye.  Other  monymentes  dystrybnted  indyueisc 
chaunges,  endured  but  for  a  short  tyme  or  season.  But  the 
%'ertue  of  hystorye  dyfFused  and  spredde  by  the  vnyue-isall 
worlde  hath  tyme,  which  consumeth  all  other  thynges  as  con- 
seruatryce &  kepar  of  her  werke.  ^  Ftrthcrmore  Eloquence 
js  soo  precyous  and  noble,  that  almoost  noo  ihynge  can  be 
founden  more  precyous  than  it.  By  Eloquence  the  Grekes 
btn  preferred  in  contynuell  honour  to  fore  the  rude  Barbares. 
Oratours  and  lerned  clerkes  in  lyke  wyse  excelle  vnlerned  and 
brutysshe  people.  Syth  this  Eloquence  is  suche  that  causclh 
men  amonge  them  selfe  some  to  excelle  other,  after  the  qualyte 
of  the  vertue  and  Eloquence  be  scyn  to  be  of  valewe.  For  some 
we  Juge  to  be  good  men  dygne  of  laude,  whiche  shewe  to  vs 
the  waye  of  vertue.  And  other  haue  taken  an  other  waye  for 
tenflnmme  more  the  courages  of  men  by  fables  of  poesye  than 
fo  proufFyte.  And  by  the  lawes  and  Instytutes  more  to 
punysshe  than  to  teche.  Soo  that  of  these  thynges  the  vtylyte 
is  myxte  with  harme.  For  some  sothly  techt-ih  to  lye.  But 
h>8t«>rye  representynge  the  ihynges  lyke  vnto  the  wordes,  en- 
bracfth  all  vtylyte  and  prouffyte.  It  shewelh  honeste,  and 
maketh  vyces  detestable.  It  enhaunceth  noble  m'  n  and  de- 
pre&seth  wycked  men  and  fooles.  Also  thynges  that  hystorye 
•J         ;  de^cr^nctb 


353 

descryueth  by  experyence,  moche  proufytcn  vnto  a  ryghtful! 
ly(e.  5[  Theiine  sytli  hystorye  is  so  precyous  and  also  prouf- 
tytable.  I  haue  delybered  to  wryte  two  bookes  notable,  rc- 
tenynge  in  them  many  notable  hystoryes,  as  ihe  l)'ues,  myracles, 
passyons,  anddetheofdyuerse  holy  sayntes  whiche  shall  be 
comprysed  by  thayde  and  suffraunce  of  almyghty  god  in  one 
of  them,  whiche  is  named  Legenda  auiea,  thai  is  the  golden 
Legende.  And  that  other  booke  is  naipcd  Polycronycon  in 
whiche  booke  ben  comprysed  bryefly  many  w^nderfuU  hysto- 
ryes. Fyrste  the  descrypcyon  of  the  vnyuersal  worlde,  ac 
well  in  length  as  in  brede  with  the  deuysyons  of  counlrces, 
Royammes  and  Empyres,  the  noble  Cytees,  hye  Mountayns, 
famous  Ryuers,  merueylles  and  wondres,  and  also  the  hysto- 
ryall  Actes  and  wonderfull  dedes  syth  the  fyrste  makynge  of 
hcuen  and  erthe  vnto  the  begynnynge  of  kyng  Henry  the 
seuenthe  the  .x.  yere  of  his  regne,  and  vnto  the  yere  of  our 
iordea.  M.CCCC.lxxxxv.  As  by  thayde  of  almyghty  god  shall 
folowe  all  a  longe,  after  the  composynge  and  gaderynge  of 
dan  Ranulphe  monke  of  Chcstre  fyrste  auctour  of  this  Iwoke, 
and  afterwarde  Englysshed  by  one  Treuisa  vycarye  of  Barkley, 
whiche atte  requeste|of  one  SyrThomas  lorde  Barkley  translated 
this  sayd  booke,  the  Byble,  *  and  Barthylmew  de  proprietati- 
bus  reru"  t  out  of  Latyn  in  to  Englysshe.  And  now  at  this 
tyme  symply  emprynted  ne:we  and  sette  in  forme  by  meWyn- 
kyn  de  woorde  and  a  lytyll  embelysshed  fro  tholde  makynge, 
and  also  haue  added  suche  storyes  as  I  coude  fynde  fro  the  ende 
that  the  i-ayd  Ranulphe  fynysshed  his  booke  whiche  was  the 
yere  of  our  lorde.  M.CCC.  and  .Ivii.  vnto  the  yere  of  the  same 
.M.CCCC.lxxxxv.  whiche  ben  an  hondred  and.  xxxvin.  yere. 
Whiche  worke  I  haue  fynysshed  vndcr  the  noble  proteccyon  of 
ray  moosl  drad  naturell  and  souerayne  lorde  and  moost  crystcn 
kyng,  k)ng  Henry  the  seuenth  humbly  besechynge  his  moost 
noble  grace  to  pardone  me  yf  ony  thynge  therinne  be  sayd  of 
Ignoraunce,  orotherwyse  than  it  ought  to  be.  And  also  re- 
quyrynge  all  other  to  amende  where  as  ther  is.defaute,  wherin 
he  or  tliey  moye  deserue  thanke  and  merytc.  And  I  shall 
praye  for  ihexn  that  soo  doo.  For  I  knowleche  royn  Igno- 
raunce and  also  symplenes.  And  yf  ther  be  thynge  that  maye 
please  or  proufFyte  ony  man  I  am  gladde  that  I  haue  achyeued 
it.  And  folovvynge  this  my  prohcmye  I  fhall  sette  a  Table 
shortely  touched  of  the  moost  parte  of  this  booke.  And  where 
thesayde  Auctour  hath  all  his  werke  in  seuen  bookes.  I  haue 
sette  that  whiche  I  haue  added  to  after  parte,  and  haue  marke4 

..  •  "  The  Byble,"  omitted  by  Treveris,  and  favours  the  pre^ 
sumption  that  Trevisa  did  not  translate  that  work.  See  note  in 
Diiidins  Ames,  Vol,  I.  p.  14.1 — 3, 

f  Vide  the  present  Vol.  p.  107—10. 

it 


354 

It  the  laste  booke,  and  haue  n)ade  chapytres  acordynge  to  the 
other  werke.  Of  whiche  accomplysshynge  I  ihanke  almyghty 
god.  To  whome  be  gyuen  honour,  hiude,  and  glorye,  iti 
secula  seculor~.  Amen.  ^  Explicit  Proheniiura,  ^  Deo 
gracias." 

J.  H. 


^  [Colophon.]  Explicit  fNoua  legenda  anglie.J  Im- 
pressa  londonias :  in  domo  IVinandi  de  IVorde : 
commorantis  ad  signmn  soils:  in  vico  nuncupate 
Cthe  Jlcte  siretej  Jnno  dni  M.  CCCCC  xvi. 
xxvii.  die  Februarii.  ^  liaqne  omnes  hisiorie  hie 
collecte :  merito  dicuniur  none :  quia  licet  qiiedam 
eiiam  reperiunlur  apud  p lures :  nan  lumen  ila 
emendate  et  correcie  sicut  in  hoc  volumen  conti* 
nentur. 

This  volume  contains  about  170  legends,  or  lives  of 
Saints,  and,  according  to  Ames,  is  called  Capgrave's 
lives  of  the  Saints.*     I'lie  Prologue  ends  thus: 

"  Et  quia  maior  pars  saiictorum  in  hac  present!  Itgcnda  jam 
ooueter  impressa  contentorum  fuerunt  de  ista  patria  que  nunc 
anglia  vocatur:  aut  cum  vocabatur  britannia  vel  postquam 
nomen  anglie  sortiia  est  in  ea  nati  vci  conversati.  Et  quia 
similiter  predi«Jte  terre  hibernie  scotie  et  wallie :  de  jure 
subici  deb<*nt  tX  obtdientts  esse  teneutur  huic  regno  anglie, 
Presens  volumen  i-.tud  (ut  videlur)  non  incongme  vucari 
potest  (Nova  iegenda  anglie)." 

The  following  passage  on  the  subject  of  early 
English  Poetry,  has  escaped  the  notice  of  the  biblio- 
graphers.    Tlie  running  title  is 

**  De  Servo  Dei  Godrico  et  hcremita, 

*'  Scotorora  Rex  David  exercitum  in  Angliam  ducen? : 
regionem  rapiwis  et  iuccndiis  dcuastauit.  Vcnientes  igitur 
quidam  irruunl  in  ecclesiaui  godrici  cuucta  dirripiunt :  obla- 
tas  cum  vino  comedunt  et  bibunt  :  et  virum  dei  graui^sime 
cesum  :  capiliis  virga  intorta  dccoIlaTe  proponunt.  Cumque 
mortem  paratus  expectans:  cemicem  libenter  extenderet : 
quidam  potens  ue  pcrimeretur  de  manibus  eorum  cum  eripuit. 

♦  See  Dibdin's  Ames,  Vol.  II.  p.  109. 

■••■"•    >^   >   •  -.>>    -  ■  •    •  » 

.:  Dicebant 


355 

Dicebant  enlm  ei  ubi  est  thesaurus  tuus  ?  Ille  antem  eis  noo 
respotidit  :  sed  conuersus  ad  craccin  ait  Domino  jhesu   in  scU 
quia  noil  est  michi  thesaurus  in  terra  :  nisi  tu  deus  et  dom^i 
luis  meus.     Unde  indignati  euin  amplius  verberabant.     Unus 
autem   eorum   ciira   terLium    mvliare   recedendo  in   insaniam 
versus  :    linguara    suani    propriis    dentibus  comrdit ;     et  in 
lacum  se  precipitavit.      Alius  furens  in  weri  flumine  se  de- 
mersit  et  periit :    nee   aliquis  qui   sancto   iniurias  intulerat: 
ad    castrunn    nouum    viuus    peruenit :    sed    diucrsi    casibus 
interiere   diuersis.     A  latronibus  frequenter  godrlcus  iniurias 
vincula  :   verberaque  sustinuit  pa'ientcr:  et  iilis  recedentibus 
si  quid  forte  remanserat  currcns  post  eos  obsecrabat :  ut  eiiam 
iHud  aufeirent.     Respiciens  godricus  ad  altare  beate  Marie  vh 
dit  duas  virgines  ad  duo  cornua  altaris  stantes.   Erat  autem  illig 
species  pulchcrrima :  et  vestes  niueo  candore  splendcntes :  et 
ipse  diu    ss   inuicem  contemplantes,     Godricus  adnilrans  et 
stupefactus  intremuit :  et  mox  tanto  repletus  est  gaudio :  ut 
pens  sibi  videretur  a    tcrreni  pondere  corporis  liberatus:  et 
tacens  sepius  in  eas  oculos  conuenebat.     Stante  una  stabat  et 
altera:  gradiente  una  gradiebat  altera.     Ad  godricurrt  deniquq 
accesserunt :  et  stantes  aliquandiu  tacuerunt.     Tunc  ilia  que  a 
dextriserat  :  eum  taliter  est  affata.    Nutnquid  me  godricecog- 
noscis?  Et  ille  Domiiia  hoc  n*^mo  potest  :   nisi  cui  tu  volueris 
rcuelare.     Bene  inquit  ilia  dixisti  :  quia  mater  christi  sum  ;  et 
per  me  ipsiusgratiam  obtinebis.     Ista  est  apobtolorum  apostola 
raaria    m.lgdalena.     Nos  tibi  patrocinabiniur :  et  solatium  in 
omni  tribulatione  prestnbimus.  Ille  pedibus  virginis  adut)lutus  : 
tibi  me  inquit  domina  mea  committo  ut  me  perpetuo  cuslodire 
digneris.     Tunc  utraque  manus-  super  caput  illius  apposuit  et 
cesariem  complanantes  domum  odore  dulcifluo  repleverunt  l\>st 
hec  dei  genitrix  canticum  coram  ilio  quasi  coram  puerodiscente 
canticum  cecinit  et  ipsum  cantare  docuit.     Ipse  vero  post  earn 
frequenter  ercinitet  memorie  firmiter  commcndauit.    Erat  au- 
tem rithmioe  in  anglico  compositum  :  quod  hoc  mode  in  lati- 
num  traosferri  potest.     Sancta  maria  virgo  mater  ihesu  christi 
nazareni  admitte  protege  adiuua  tuum  godricum  :  susclpe  ad- 
duc  cito  tecum  in  dei  regnum.    Precepit  ut  quoties  temptation! 
snccumhere  formidaret  :  hoc  se  cantico  solare tur.    Quando  in- 
quit  sic  me  inuocabis  :   meum  scnties  instanter  auxilium.     Et 
signum  crucis  capiti  eius  impressit  et  altera  idem  fecit :  et  ipso 
cernente  in  aha  conscendunt :  odorem  incomparabilem  '■•■lin- 
quentes.     Vestes  earum  tante  subtilitatis  cra:^t:  quod  bominis 
factum  sustinere  non  possent.     Erant  enim  sicut  pellicula  que 
intra  oui  testani  continetur.     Fol,  CLXf." 


i-»'  Ah 


356 

w 

^  An  ExceClent  Poeme,  vpon  the  longing  of  a  blessed 
heart :  which  loathing  the  world,  doth  long  to  be 
with  Christ.  With  an  Addition  vpon  the  definition 
dJ  toue.  Compiled  by  Nicholas  Breton^  Gentleman. 
Cup'io  dissolui,  &  esse  cum  Christo.  Imprinted  at 
Londofif  for  John  Browne,  and  lohn  Deane.  I6OI. 
qto.  24  leaves. 

JDedicated  to  "  the  fauourer  of  all  good  studies, 
and  Louer  of  all  vertues,  the  Lord  North,"  and  a 
short  address  "  to  the  reader."  A  Sonnet,  subscribed 
**  H.  T.  Gent."  speaks  of  two  hopeful  twins,  which  "  a 
Rauisht  soule,  and  longing  Spirit  sends  :"  the  first 
has  been  described  by  Mr.  Park,  *  and  the  present 
poem  forms  the  conclusion.  Eighteen  lines  in  English, 
entitled,  '*  Ad  Librum,"  conclude  the  introductory 
matter.  ".  Breton's  Longing,"  describes  the  worldly 
Prince,  counsellor,  souldier,  &-c.  and  their  counter- 
parts acting  under  heavenly  grace.  The  following  is 
a  specimen  of  botli  characters. 

"  The  worldly  Scholler  loues  a  world  of  bookes. 
And  spends  his  life  in  many  an  idle  line : 
Meane  while  his  heart,  to  beauen  but  little  lookes.:. 
Nor  loues  to  thinke  vpon  a  thought  diuine : 
These  thongbtes  of  ouj"s  (alas)  so  lowe  encline. 
We  seeke  to  know,  what  nature  can  effect : 
Jkn  vnto  Cod,  haue  small,  or  no  respect. 

The  Poet,  with  bis  fictions,  and  his  fancies, 
t*leasetb  bimselfe  with  humourous  inuentions: 
Which  well  considered,  are  a  kinde  of  franzies. 
That  carie  little  truth  in  their  intentions: 
While  wit  and  reason,  falling  at  contentions,  , 

Make  wisedome  finde  that  follies  strong  illusion, 

.,      J.     Bringcs  wit  and  senses  wholly  to  confusion 

D/'  i  1  »The  Scholler  that  beginnes  with  Christ  his  crosse. 
And  seekes  good  specde,  but  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Findcs  by  his  bookc  that  siluer  is  but  drosse, 
i.  And  all  his  labour,  in  his  studie  lost, 

Where  faith,  of  mercy,  cannot  sweetly  boast,  ^ 

And  loue  doth  long  for  any  other  blisse, 
7'hen,  what  in  God,  and  in  his  graces  is. 

.  •  Centura  Literaria,  Vol.  IX.  p.  160. 

And 


And  such  a  Poet  as  the  Psalmist  was, 
Who  had  no  minde  but  on  his  Maister's  louc  s 
Whose  Muses  did  the  world  in  musique  passe. 
That  onely  soong  but  of  the  soules  behoouc. 
In  gluing  glorie  to  the  (5od  aboue, 

Would  all  worldes  fictiotfs  wholly  laye  aside. 
And  onely  long  but  with  the  Lord  to  bide." 

This  poem,  extending  to  seventy-two  stanzas,  ii 
followed  by  another  of  twenty-seven  stanzas,  entitled 
"  What  is  Lone."  Then  follows,  "  Solus  in  toto  lau- 
dandus  Deus,"  in  sixteen  sextains,  english,  and  ari 
unentitled  conclusion  in  seven  moie. 

J.  H. 


^  Parnassus  Biceps,  or  Severall  choice  pieces  of  Poetry  t 
composed  ly  the  lest  Wits  that  were  in  both  the- 
Universities  before  their  Dissolution.  With  an 
Epistle  in  the  behalf e  of  those  now  doubly  secluded 
and  sequestred  Members,  by  one  luho  himselfe  is 
none.  Lojidon,  printed  for  George  Eversden  ai 
the  signe  of  the  Maidenhead  in  St.  Pauls  Church- 
yard, 1656.  12mo.  pp.  163. 

The  dedication  says  "  to  the  Ingenuous  Reader:  Sir,  these 
leaves  present  you  with  some  few  drops  of  that  ocean  of  wit, 
which  floved  from  those  two  brests  of  this  nation,  the  two 
Universities;  and  doth  now  (tlie  sluces  being  pul'd  up)  over- 
flow the  whole  land  :  or  rather  like  those  sprftgsoP^Paradice, 
doth  water  and  enrich  the  whole  world  ;  whilst  tbe  fountains 
themselves  are  dryed  up,  and  that  Twin-paradise  become  dc- 
sart.  For  then  were  these  verses  composed,  when  Oxford  and 
Camebridge  were  Vniversities,  and  a  colledge  learned  .  then  a 
town  hall  ;  when  the  buttery  and  kitchin  could  speak  latine, 
though  not  preach ;  and  the  very  irrational  turnspits  had  so 
much  knowing  modesty,  as  not  to  dare  to  come  into  a  chappel, 
or  to  mount  any  pulpits  but  their  own.  Then  were  these 
poems  writ,  when  peace  and  plenty  were  the  best  patriots, 
and  Maecenasses  to  great  wils ;  then  we  could  sit  and  make 
verses  under  our  own  fig-trees,  and  be  inspired  from  the  juice 
•four  own  vines  :  then,  when  it  was  held  no  sin  for  the  same 
mian  to  be  both  a  poet  and  a  prophet  j  and  to  draw  prediction^ 
wo  lesse  from  his  verse  then  his  text.  [The  writer,^  after  ad- 
vocating the  cause  of  the  secluded  and  sequestered  memher* 
in  a  lively  strain  of  irony,  condudcsl  And  thus  far,  ingenuous 
VOL.  IV.  B  »  "'  reader. 


358 

reader,  suffer  him  to  be  a  poet  in  his  prediction,  though  not  in 
his  verse  ;  who  desires  to  be  known  so  far  to  thee,  as  that  he 
is  a  friend  to  persecuted  truth  and  peace,  and  thy  most  affec- 
tionate christian  servant,  Ab.  Wright.* 

This  miscellaneous  collection  of  University  Poems 
is  compiled  from  the  productions  of  the  editor;  Bishop 
Corbett;  Ben  Jonson ;  Mayne;  Sir  Henry  VVotton  ; 
Cartvvright;  Dr.  VVyld ;  Strode;  L'£strange;f  Alex- 
ander Brome;  and  Cleveland.  Among  the  pieces 
which  I  have  not  traced  to  their  respective  authors,  is 
the  following 

•  "  On  the  Bible. 

*'  Behold  this  little  volume  here  enrol'd, 
'Tis  the  Almightie's  present  to  the  world. 
Hearken,  earth,  earth  :  each  senselesse  thing  can  hear 
His  Maker's  thunder,  though  it  want  an  eare. 
God's  word  is  senior  to  his  work  ;  nay  rather 
If  rightly  weigh'd,  the  world  may  call  it  Father. 
God  spake,  'twas  done  :  this  great  foundation 
Was  but  the  Maker's  exhalation, 
Brcath'd  out  in  speaking.     The  least  work  of  man 
Is  better  then  his  word;  but  if  we  scan 
God's  word  aright,  his  works  far  short  doe  fall : 
The  word  is  God,  the  works  are  creatures  all. 
The  sundry  peeces  of  this  gcn{Mali  frame. 
Are  dimmer  letters,  all  which  spell  the  same 
Eternall  word.     But  these  cannot  cxpresae 
His  greatnesse  with  such  easie  readiiiesse. 
And  therefore  yeeld.    For  heaven  shall  pass  away. 
The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  shall  all  obey 
To  light  one  gcnerall  boon-tire;  but  his  word. 
Mis  builder  up,  his  all-destroying  sword. 
Yet  still  survives ;  no  jot  of  that  can  dye  j 
Each  tittle  meastires  immortality. 
Once  more  this  mighty  word  his  people  greets. 
Thus  lapp'd  and  thus  svvaih'd  up  in  paper  sheets. 
Read  here  God's  image  wiih  a  zeaUus  eye. 
The  legible  and  written  Deity." 

J.  H. 

.  •  For  his  life  see  Wood's  Athena  Oxotsienses,  Vol.  II.  Col.  84^ 
Wood  has  omitted  to  notice  some  English  verses,  subscribed, 
*'  Ab.  Wright  Art,  Bac.  Coll.  Joan,"  among  the  complimentary 
•writers  of  the  Flos  Britannlcvs  'veris  no'vissimi  Filiola  Carolo  ^ 
Maria nata  xwi  Martii  Anno  M.DC.xxxvi.  Oxonia,  Sec.  qto. 

t  ♦'  The  liberty  and  requiem  of  an  Imprisoned  Loyalist:" 
probably  the  fiKt  time  of  its  being  printed. 

^  1.  Mais, 


359 


%  Mars,  his  Trivmphy  or  the  description  of  an  Exercise 
performed  the  xviii  oj  October^  1638,  in  Merchant- 
Taylors  Hall,  by  certain  Gentlemen  of  the  Artillery 
Garden,  London.  London,  printed  by  J,  L.  fof 
Ralph  Mab,  1639.  qto.  28  leaves. 

(Dedicated)  "  to  the  right  worshipfull  Alderman,  Thomas 
Soame,  one  of  the  collonels  of  the  city  and  president  of  the 
Artillery  Garden,  London.  A<?  also  to  Captain  John  Ven, 
vice-president,  Mr.  William  Mariby,  treasuret.  And  ail  othet 
the  worthy  captains  of  the  city,  and  gentlemen  of  the  court 
of  assistants. — Much  honour'd  Sir,  and  right  worthy  souldiers, 
the  Grecians  were  the  first  that  out  of  variety  of  action  and 
Jong  experience  of  warre,  reduced  the  knowledge  of  arms 
into  an  art;  giving  precepts  for  the  ordering  of  arms,  and 
the  embattelling  of  armies.  The  Romanes>  who  were  their 
successours  in  time,  so  were  they  also  of  their  precepts, 
breeding  and  inuring  their  youih  to  hardship,  the  use  of  armes, 
and  the  studies  of  the  aft  military.  So  that,  by  their  coun* 
tenance  and  practise  therein,  they  not  onely  became  powerfull 
and  terrible  to  others,  but,  in  a  word,  reigned  as  sole  monarchs 

of  this  mundane   glory Neglect  of  discipline,  and  th« 

art  military  have  been  alwayes  the  forerunners  of  destruction 
both  to  province  and  people.  I  might  be  infinite  in  examples 
of  this  nature,  but  then  I  should  make  my  porch  larger  then 
my  house.  Therefore,  let  Rome's  remissenesse  be  a  warning 
to  posterity;  who,  as  it  had  a  slow  gradation  in  its  ariise  by 
xirtue,  so  had  it  degrees  of  falling,  by  neglecting  discipline 
and  art  military,  suffering  itself  to  be  crushed  and  overtrodJen 
by  every  barbarous  nation.  Tl)is,  as  it  reflects  upon  us  a 
necessity,  so  it  demonstrates  of  how  necessary  consequence  the 
practice  of  arms  is;  inducing  and  inviting  all  generous  spirits 
to  endeavour  the  attainment  of  this  military  skill.  To  ac- 
quire the  which  the  Grecians  had  their  tactick  masters,  the 
Romanes  their  tribunes,  and  other  infcriour  tutors,  whicli 
taught  them  in  Campus  Martins,  and  we  our  acadf-mies  and 
military  schoolcs  of  war,  witnes  our  artillery  garden  with  the 
military  and  martiall  grounds,  wherein  the  choice  and  best 
affected  citizens  (and  gentry)  are  practiced  and  taught  the 
rudiments  of  our  militia.  In  times  of  peace  so  fitting  them, 
that  they  may  be  able  to  stand-in  the  day  of  baUell,  to  God's 
glory,  their  own  honours,  and  their  countrey's  good.  (Sub- 
scribed) yours  Will.  Bafrifl." 

"  Mars  his  trivmph.  The  number  of  gentlemen  employed 
ill  this  exercise  were  fourscore,  that  is  to  say,  eighteen  with 
tnorion.s,  swords,  and  targets,  which  epcounired  y  against  9. 
'•"''••  B  B  2        "      "  "  "       Secondly, 


360 

Secondly,  22  Saracens,  that  is  to  say,  a  captain,  lieutenant, 
^nsigne,  one  sergennti  pipe,  a  kettle-drum,  and  l6  select 
Sarracens.*  Thirdly,  40  of  the  moderne  armes,  a  captain, 
lieutenant,  ensigne,  2  sergeants,  1  phife,  and  2  drummes, 
}6  musketticrs  in  bufFe  coats,  and  beaver  morians,  and  l6 
pikeraen,  compleatly  armed  in  white  corslets,  whole  pikes,  and 
morians." 

It  is  impossible  to  follow  these  little  bands  through 
their  various  evolutions,  postures,  and  motions  per- 
formed, to  amuse  the ''nobility,  aldermen,  and  gentry," 
with  more  dramatic  effect  than  usually  attends  such 
exhibitions  and  of  sufficient  interest  for  our  author  to 
describe  them  minutely,  adding  the  posture  tunes.  In 
the  battle  the  Christians  overcome  the  Saracens,  and, 
being  conquered,  "  the  Turks  found  so  good  quarter 
and  kind  usage, that  now  they  are  all  turned  Chiistians, 
leaving  that  course  of  life,  and  are  now  either  mer- 
chants or  shopkeepers  for  the  most  part.  Finis.  loi* 
primatur  Tho.  Wykes.  Aug.  0.8,  1031)." 

J.  11.., 


^  1.  The  Hislory  of  Vhilosophy.  By  Thomas  Stan^ 
ley.  Vol.  I.  l6->j.  Fol.  II.  l6o6.  Fol,  JIl.  l66(). 
Fol.  i\ll  reprinted  lf)87.  Fol.  Again,  1700,  and 
again,  in  1743,  in  one  vol.  4lo. 

2.  JEschyhis.  By  the  same.     Lond.  l6G4.  Fol. 

3.  Poems.     By  the  same.   \Qo\.  8vo.  f 

*  «•  Their  nmsick  was  a  turky  drumme  and  a  hideous  noiscr 
making,  pipe,  made  of  a  buffola's  horn  :  the  one  half  the  Saracens 
were  armed  with  short  Barhary  guns  and  cymiters,  the  other 
half  with  steel  targets  and  cymiters  on  their  thighs :  some  of  the 
chiefest  of  them  had  broad  turky  daggers  at  their  girdles,  and 
all  of  them  habited  after  the  Persian  and  Turconian  manor. — 
The  captain  and  lieutenant  marclied  with  large  pole-axes  in  their 
hands,  cymeters  on  their  thighs,  battle  axes  haHgingon  their  armes, 
and  broad  daggers  at  their  girdles." 

■\  These  are 

1.  Poems  by  Thomas  Stanley,  Esq. 

Quje  mca  culpa  tamen,  nisi  si  lucisse  vccari 
Culpa  potest :  nisi  culpa  potest,  et  amasse,  vocans. 

Printed  in  the  year  1651,  pp.  80. 

2.  Anacreon,  Bion,  Moschus,  Kisses  by  Secundus,-  Cupid 
Crucified  by  Ansonius.  Venus,  Vigils,  Incerto  Authorc.  Printed 
in  the  year  1651,  pp.  z6o.    At  p.  79  begin  Notes  with  the  new 

title 


361 

These  works  are  introduced  for  the  purpose  of  recti- 
fying a  mistake  which  runs  through  all  the  biographers 
from  Wood  and  Chauncey  to  the  present  time  regarding 
the  descent  of  Stanley,  the  ingenious  author. 

^Yo^d  calls  this  Thomas  Stanley  the  son  of  Sir 
Thomas  Stanley,  of  Cwnherloiv,  in  Hertfordshire. 
Chauncey  says  that  this  Cumberlow  was  sold  by  Wil- 
liam Goodman,  (the  son  of  William  Goodman,  who 
purchased  it  2  Iidw.  VI.)  ''  to  Thomas  Stanley,  Esq. 
Citizen  and  Scrivener,  of  London,  from  whom  it  de- 
scended toThomas  Stanley,  Esq."  to  which  last  Thomas 
whom  he  makes  a  knight,  Chauncey  goes  on  to  attribute 
all  the  literary  works  abovementioned  ;  and  adds,  that 
he  married  Dorothy,  daughter  and  coheir  of  Sir  James 
Enion  of  Flower  in  Northamptonshire,  Bart,  and  ihal  he 
had  issae,Thomas,  who,  with  his  mother  Dorothy,  sold 
Cumberlow  to  Joseph  Edmonds,  Esq. 

But  that  this  family  of  Stanley  of  Cumberlow  must 
not  be  identified  with  that  of  the  poet,  I  think  the  fol- 
lowing pedigree  from  the  Visitation  Book  of  Essex, 
1634,  will  satisfactorily  prove. 

*'  HiXtract  from  Essex  Visitation,   l634. 

"  Thomas  Stanley,  natural  son  to  Edward  Earl  of  Derby, 
had  issue 

"  James  Stanley,  of  London,  who  lies  buried  at  Enshana 
Abbey,  near  Oxford,  and  was  father  of 

"  Sir  Thomas  Stanley,  of  Laytonstone,  in  Essex,  Kt.  whd 
married,  first,  Mary,  daughter  of  Sir  Roger  Apulton,  of 
South  Benflet,  in  Essex,  Kt.  and  Bart,  by  whom  he  had  three 
sons,  wlio  all  died  Without  issue.  He  married,  secondly, 
Mary,  *  daughter  of  Sir  William  Hammond,  of  St.  Albans, 

title  of  Excitations.  At  p.  165,  another  title,  Sylvia's  Park,  by 
Theophyle.  Acanthus  Complaint,  by  Tristan.  Oronta,  by  Preti. 
Echo,  by  Pv'Iarino.  Love's  Embassy,  by  ^Bqscan.  The  Solitude, 
by  Gongora. 

3.  Aurora  Ismenia  and  ^^\t  Prince,  by  Don  Juan  Perez  de 
Montalvan.  Oronta  the  Cyprian  Virgin  :  by  Signior  Giroiamo 
Preti.  Tout  vient  a  poinct  qui  pent  attendre.  Translated  by 
Thomas  Stanley,  Esq.  The  second  edition  with  additions. 
Lond.  printed  by  W.  Wilson  for  Humphrey  Moseley  at  the 
signe  of  Prince's  Arraes  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,   1650,  8vo. 

PP-  ^7* 

*  This  marriage  took  place  at  Bishop's  Bourne  in  Kent.     Sec 

Genealogical  Notes,  Gent.  Mag.  1796. 

near 


SG2 

near  Dover,  in  Kent,  and  had  issue,  (besides,  two  younger 
children,  Eliz.  and  Steward,) 

♦*  Thomas  Stanley,  Esq.  aged  about  nine  years  in  \634."* 

This  last  Thomas  was  indisputably  the  poet,  and 
author  of  the  other  learned  works  here  enumerated. 
He  dedicates  his  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,**  to  his 
dear  and  much  esteemed  uncle,  John  Marskam,  Esq. 
afterwards  Sir  John  Marsham,  Knt.  and  Bart,  the 
very  learned  Chronologist,  who  married  Elizabeth, 
another  daughter  of  the  aboveraentioned  Sir  William 
Hauimond,  as  may  be  seen  in  CoUbis's  Peerage,  (new 
edit.  Vol.  V.  title  Eat L  of  llomnpy  J 

Thomas  Stanley  died  12  April,  J 678,  and  was  buried 
in  the  church  of  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields.  The 
learned  Dr,  William  W^otton,  (who  married  a  Ham- 
mond of  the  St.  Albans  family)  wrote  an  eulogium  on 
our  author,  which  was  published  at  the  end  of  Scasvola 
Sammartbaiins's  Etogia  GaUorum. 

Our  author  has  a  poem  addressed  '*  To  Mr.  W. 
Hammond,'*  beginning, 

"  Thou  best  of  friendship,  knowledge  and  of  art. 
The  charm  of  whose  lov'd  name  preserves  my  heart 
From  female  vanities,  (tliy  name,  which  there 
Till  Time  dissolves  tlie  fabric,  I  must  wear  !  ") 

He  left  a  son,  Thomas  Stanley,  educated  like  him- 
self at  Pembroke  Hall,  Cambiidge,  who,  when  very 
young,  translated  into  English  Claud,  ^lianus^s 
Various  Histories,  printed  at  Lond.  lG65,  8vo.  and 
dedicated  it  to  his  aunt,  the  Lady  Newton,  wife  of  Sir 
Henry  Puckering  Newton,  Knt.  ^nd  Bart,  to  whom 
Lis  father  had  dedicated  his  i^schylus. 

Stanley's  poems  have  more  merit  than  most  of  those 
which  have  of  late  been  revived.  Extracts  have  been 
given  in  the  Censura  Literaria,,  Vol.  IX  The  follow- 
ing is  a  translation  from  Maiino. 

,  «  Echo. 

<*  In  a  solitnry  grove. 

The  sad  witness  of  his  lovCj^ 
Poor  Siringo  (vainly  who 
pid  Licoris  long  pursue) 

*  Jlarl.  MSS.  >o83,  1137. 

Here 


^63 

Here  his  weary  steps  restrain'd  ; 
And  so  sweetly  he  complain'd, 
Ihat  the  water, and  the  air. 
Wept,  and  sigh'd,  his  plaints  to  hear. 
Silvio  overheard  his  spnech. 
And  engrav'd  it  on  a  Beech. 

Nymph,  said  he,  a  nymph  thou  wert. 

Now  a  naked  voice  thou  art; 

Who  words  follow'st,  though  thy  hast 

Onely  can  o'retake  the  last: 

Thou,  who  with  this  murmuring  source. 

Birds,  and  beasts,  maintain'st  discourse. 

To  these  rugged  cliffs  confin'd; 

Thou,  ah,  none  but  thou !  art  kind : 

Who,  in  pitty  of  my  mone, 

Often  dost  forget  thiue  own. 

Oracle  of  rural  loves  1 

Speaking  shade  !  soul  of  the  groves ! 

Who,  through  each  deserted  place. 

Dost  thy  savage  lover  trace  ; 

Aery  spirit !  wand'ring  noise ! 

Unseen  image  of  the  voice  ! 

Wilde  inhabitant  that  dwels. 

In  inhospitable  cells  ! 

If  thou  canst  thy  passion  share, 

Hear,  and  pitty  my  despair. 

To  the  sad  complaints  I  send, 
From  thy  hollow  grot  attend ; 
But  my  grief  when  I  have  told. 
To  no  other  ear  unfold. 
If  thy  own  unhappy  fate. 
Teach  thee  pitty  to  my  state; 
Carefully  this  secret  lock. 
In  the  caverns  of  that  rock  j 
And  let  its  rude  breast  become. 
To  my  woes,  and  thee,  a  tomb. 

Not  that  I  fear  to  complain 
Of  my  wrongs,  and  her  disdain  ; 
But,  I  would  not,  at  their  story. 
The  unpitying  heavens  should  glory; 
Nor  that  this  unhappy  noise. 
Should  disturb  another's  joyes. 
Come  then,  to  this  dismal  shade, 
Never  by  the  sun  betraid. 
We  together  will  retire. 
And  our  griefs  alone  expire. 

Thou 


364 

Thon  our  destinies  wilt  fiude. 
If  cotiripar'd,  alike  unkinde. 
Equal  beauty  crowns  both  them 
Who  our  amorous  suits  contemn. 
Thou  to  empty  air  didst  turn, 
I  in  sighs  dissolving  mourn  : 
Thou  rctir'st  from  humane  sight, 
Courting  loneness,  flying  light ; 
i  the  deserts  seeking,  shan 
Equally,  the  world,  and  siifl. 

Hither  often  comes  my  coy 
Fair  one,  like  thy  cruel  boy. 
And  in  this  brook's  fluid  glass. 
With  delight  surveys  her  face j 
But  if  she,  like  him,  to  none 
Save  herself  must  kindness  own. 
Why  my  heart  will  she  not  view. 
Where  her  form  Love's  pencil  drcw) 
And  if  pleas'd  with  that  she  be, 
JjOvc  herself  in  loving  me  ? 

If  nay  sorrows,  thus  displaid, 
Thy  compassion  may  perswadc ; 
Quit  these  beasts,  and  forests  wilde. 
To  seek  one  then  these  less  milde ; 
Leave  thy  dwelling  in  this  stone. 
To  find  out  a  living  one  J 
On  thy  wing  my  soft  sighs  bear. 
Breath  them  gently  in  her  ear ; 
That  she  thus  may  learn  to  prpve 
Grie^  though  ignorant  of  love. 

Or  when  day's  bright  star  the  fields 
With  meridian  lustre  guilds. 
If  she  seek  out  this  retreat  j 
To  d 'fend  her  from  the  heat  j 
And  upon  this  smooth  bank  ly. 
Teaching  (he  birds  harmony  : 
Or  discourse  with  thee;  o'recorae 
With  her  voice,  oh,  be  not  dumb  : 
Tell  her  what  my  grief  affords 
In  entire,  not  broken  words. 

Tell  her,  thou,  that  to  my  woe 
Both  companion  art,  and  foe  j 
The  deep  plaints  my  sorrows  vent. 
In  this  hapless  languishmenti 
Say,  how  often  I  to  thee 
Ujivc  accus'd  her  cruelty  i 

Taught 


365 

Taught  thee  her  lov'd  n^me  f  iovoke, 
Carv'd  it  upon  every  oak;  ■       -  . 

Trees  Licoris  only  bear 
To  the  eye,  rocks  to  the  ear. 

Nymph,  if  thou  wilt  reljeye  me, 
Thousand  garlands  I  will  give  thee  j 
Juno  shall  prove  harsh  no  more. 
And  thy  humane  vail  restore  : 
Heaven  thy  speech  return,  appeas*d. 
To  thy  arms  thy  lover  pleas'd  ; 
And  this  cave,  wjiich  h^th  so  long 
Been  acquainted  wiih  thy  wrong  j 
Shall  a  faithful  witness  be 
Of  the  love  'twixt  him  and  thee. 

I^'ool,  who  vainly  doth  deceive  the^  I 
Or  of  reason  thus  bereave  thee  ? 
Why  dost  thou  thy  sad  estate 
To  the  sportive  streams  relate  ? 
Comfort  who,  or  pitty  finds, 
In  dumb  rock,  or  in  deaf  winds  ? 
And,  thou  aid  of  all  my  grief. 
Where  I  onely  found  relief; 
My  last  accents  who  dost  ease. 
Art  as  silent  now,  as  these. 

Cruel  nymph  1  to  rob  my  joye« 
Voice  itself  is  without  noyscj 
She,  who  did  some  speech  retain. 
Her  own  sorrows  to  complain ; 
Now  in  silence  drowns  her  grief. 
Lest  she  should  give  mine  relief. 
Wanton  daughter  of  the  air  ! 
Who  regard's!  not  my  dispair, 
JCnow,  I  can  grieve  inwaii'd  top. 
And  be  dumb  as  well  as  you.*' 


f  A4$NI2  nOAYXTE^ANOS.  M  Eclog,  treating  of 
'  (^rqwnes,  and  of  Garlandes,  g.nd  to  whom  of  right 
they  appertaine.  Jddressed  and  consecrated  to  the 
King's  Maiestie.  Bij  G,  B.  Knight.  Quod  maxi- 
muniy  et  optimum  esse  dicifur,  oportet  esse  unum  ex 
Arist.  Top.  I.  7.  At  London  Printed  hy  G,  Eld  for 
fhomas  AdaiTiSf  l605.  4to.  Sign.  G.  4. 

This 


366 

This  poem  of  Sir  George  Buc  is  dedicated  to  King 
James,  in  honour  of  whose  descent  from  the  regal  race 
of  England  this  genealogical  garland  is  composed.  It 
in  a  dialogue  between  Damaetas  and  Silenus,  the  former 
"  having  been  long  a  woodman,  and  having  observed 
the  natures  and  properties  of  many  trees,  being  now 
desirous  to  learn  from  the  latter  "  the  peculiar  majes- 
tical  matter  in  the  Genest" 

*'  Stanza  1.  (Damaetas.) 

"  Of  all  the  trees  in  heavenly  Sylvan's  guard. 

Wherewith  the  worthiest  brows  were  crown'd  of  yore. 
There  is  but  one,  or  few,  (O  reverend  Bard) 
Amid  whose  virtue's  maze  I  would  require 
A  line  of  any  learned  wizard's  lore. 
The  plant  of  Genest  chiefly  I  admire. 

Whose  humble  highness  makes  me  oft  surmise 

That  lowly  steps  be  ladders  to  the  skies.  » 

2. 

For  well  I  wist  tho'  Genest  doth  not  dwell 

In  proudest  soil,  nor  tops  of  mountains  high. 
She  shews  by  this  that  she  forcseetb  well 
The  perils  which  do  all  extremes  impend, 
Th'  aspiring  Pine  whose  top  doth  threat  the  sky. 
Divine  revenge  doth  headloogs  oft  down  send. 
When  this  is  safe  upon  her  humble  hill. 
Nor  thrall  to  any  proud  superior's  will."  &c.  &c. 


5f  The  Queene  of  Nauarres  Tales.  Containing  Verie 
pleasant  Discourses  of  fortunate  hotiers.  Now 
newly  translated  out  of  French  into  English.  Lon- 
don, printed  by  V.  S.  for  John  Oxenbridge,  arid  are 
to  be  solde  at  his  shop  in  Pauleys  Churchyard,  at 
the  signeofthe  Parot.  1597.  qto.  Sig.  M.  4. 

The  preface  is  uncommonly  spirited  and  humourous. 
It  is  addressed  to  "  his  assured  good  friend  J.  O. 
stationer,"  and  was  not  written  by  the  translator  of  the 
tales,  as  he  says:"  you  hauing  manie  times  beene  in 
hand  with  me  about  a  booke  intituled,  The  Queene  of 
Nauarre's  Tales;  which  fas  you  say),  you  haue  caused 
to  be  translated  out  of  French,  at  your  proper  charges, 
'  •'*  on 


367 

on  mind  to  print  it,  and  you  haue  seuerall  times  bin 
in  hand  with  me  to  write  you  a  preface."  The  selection 
is  a  partial  one,  and  only  extends  to  fifteen  of  the 
novels. 

1.  The  Woman  of  Alancon.  Day  1.  Nov.  1. 

2.  The  chast  Death  of  the  Muliteer's  Wife.  Day  1.  Nov. 2. 
In  the  Palace  of  Pleasure,  vol.  i.  p.  377.  ed.  18J3. 

3.  The  King  of  Naples.  Do.  Nov,  3.  lb.  p.  380. 

4.  The  Gentleman  and  the  Princess  of  Flanders.  Ditto, 
No.  4.  lb.  p.  386. 

5.  The  Waterman's  Wife.  Do.  No.  5. 
^     6.  The  Subtle  Wife.  Do.  No.  6, 

7.  The  Marchant  of  Paris.  Do.  Nov.  7. 

8.  The  Married  Man  that  made  himself  a  Cuckold.  Da. 
Nov.  8 

9.  The  Amorous  Gentleman.  Do.  Nov.  9.  P.  of  P.  vol.  i^ 
p.  455. 

10.  The  Duke  of  Florence.  Day  2.  Nov.  2.  lb.  p.  423. 

11.  The  Gentlewoman  of  Milan.  Day  2.  Nov.  4. 

12.  The  Lady  disdained  by  her  Husband.  Day  2.  Nov.  5. 

13.  Gentlewoman  of  Milan.  Day  2.  Nov.  6.  : 

14.  The  Country-man's  Wife  and  Curate.  Day  5.  Nov.  9.  ^ 

15.  The  Fragilitie  of  Man.   Day  3.  Nov.  10. 

16.  The  Merry  Conceited  Bricklayer.  This  story  is  only  in 
part  engrafted  upon  one  in  the  Heptameron. 

17.  Mahomet  and  Hyerene.     Not  in  the  Heptameron. 

From  this  rare  volume  I  have  selected  No.  15  as 
forming  a  conclusion  to  the  investigation  in  the  ninth 
volume  of  the  Ccnsma  Liieraria.  As  to  the  probable 
origin  of  the  story  of  the  tragedy  of  the  Mtsterious 
Mother,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt  of  Lord  Orford's 
know  ledge  of  the  novel  by  the  Queen  of  Navarre,  though 
in  the  Postscript  he  has,  for  some  reason,  attempted  to 
give  the  story  of  the  play  a  more  exceptionable  origin, 
as  carrying  witli  it  a  more  solemn  appearance  of  truth. 

'•  TheFifteenthNouell.  The  strange  fragilitie  of  man,*  that  to 
couer  his  horrour  falleth  from  euil  to  worse. — In  the  time  of 
king  Lewes  the  Twelfth,  one  of  the  house  of  Ambois,  nephew 
to  the  legate  of  France  named  George,  being  legate  in  Auig- 
neon,  had  in  the  country  of  Languedoc  a  Lady,  whose  name  I 
■wil  not  rehearse  for  her  kinred's  sake,  that  had  better  dian  foure 
thousand  crownes  yearely  reuenue  :  she  being  very  yf  ng  was  a 
widow,  and  had  but  one  child,  being  a  sonne;  and  for  griefe 
she  had  for  the  lo.'fse  of  her  husband,  as  also  for  the  loue  of  her 
conne^  deterjiined  not  to  marry  againe.  And  to  auoyde  all  cc- 

•  Sic. 

casionc 


S6B 

€39*1011$  would  not  yse  the  company  of  any  other  than  religious 
persons,  thinking  that  sinne  causeth  temptations,  whereby  the 
j^'ong  widow  gaue  her  selfe  only  to  diuine  seruice,  wholy  for- 
saking worldly  company,  in  such  manner  that  she  made  con- 
science to  goe  to  any  wedding,  or  to  heare  the  organs  play 
within  the  churcii.  When  her  sonne  was  seuen  yeares  olde, 
^hee  chose  a  man  of  zealous  life  to  be  his  schoolemasier,  by 
whose  good  raeanes  he  might  be  brought  vp  in  godlinesse. 
When  her  Sonne  entred  into  his  fifteenth  yeare.  Nature,  which 
<f(  itselfe  IS  a  secret  schooleraaister,  finding  him  too  delicately 
nourished,  and  full  of  idienesse,  taught  him  another  lesson, 
than  his  maister  vsed  to  do,  for  that  he  beganne  to  beholde  and 
respect  thinges  that  seemed  faire  ;  and  smong  the  rest  a  gentle- 
woman that  lodged  in  his  mother's  chamber,  wherof  no  man 
^er  doubted,  for  that  they  no  more  respected  him,  than  a 
yong  infant ;  no  other  thing  being  spoken  of  in  the  whole 
house  but  godlinesse.  This  yong  gentleman  began  secretly  to 
seek  vnto  the  maid  that  told  it  to  her  mistris,  who  loued  and 
esteemed  her  sonne  so  much,  that  she  suspected  the  maid  to 
tell  it  her,  onely  to  make  her  hate  him  ;  but  she  was  so  impor- 
tunate with  her  mistris,  that  shee  said  vnto  her,  I  wil  know  if 
it  be  true,  and  assure  yourselfe  I  wil  correct  him  if  I  finde  it 
to  be  so  :  but  if  you  tell  me  an  vntrulh,  I  wil  make  you  feele 
the  price  thereof.  And  to  finde  the  trueth  she  willed  her  to 
appoint  her  sonne  to  come  about  midnight  to  lie  with  her  in  a 
bed  neere  vnto  the  doore  of  the  chamber  where  the  maid  lay. 
The  maid  obeyed  her  mistresse,  and  when  night  came  the 
Gentlewoman  laide  hirself  in  her  maide'sbed,  determining  if  it 
were  true,  to  correct  her  sonne  so  well,  that  neusr  after  he 
should  desire  to  lie  with  maide  againe.  And  in  thought  and 
ilispleasure  her  sonne  came  to  bed  vnto  her.  She,  although  she 
saw  him  lie  downe,  would  not  yet  beleeue  he  would  commit 
any  dishonest  act,  but  stayed  to  speake  with  him,  vntii  she  per- 
ceiued  some  signes  of  bad  desire  :  but  not  being  persuaded  with 
«o  small  a  signe,  that  he  would  proceed  fartlier,  was  so  long 
patient  and  so  fraile  of  nature,  that  she  conucrted  her  choller 
into  a  mostabhominable  pleasure,  forgetting  the  name  of  mo- 
ther :  and  euen  as  water  that  by  force  is  holden  in,  when  it 
^ssueth  foorth,  maketh  more  noyse  than  that  which  runneth 
his  ordinary  course,  so  this  poore  lady  turned  her  glory  into  the 
restraint  she  gaue  vnto  her  body.  And  when  she  proceeded 
to  decline  from  the  first  degree  of  honest ie,  she  found  herselfc 
sodainly  caried  and  borne  vnto  the  last;  and  the  said  nighi  be- 
came with  child  by  him,  whom  she  sought  to  keepe  from  gett- 
ing others  with  childe.  The  same  was  no  sooner  committed, 
but  the  remorce  of  conscience,  brought  her  into  so  great  tor- 
ment, that  the  repentaunce  neuer  left  her  during  her  whole  life, 
which  at  the  first  was  so  sharp,  that  she  rose  out  of  the  bed 

from 


S6^ 

from  her  sonne,  that  Knew  no  other  but  it  hnd  bin  the  rrtaicft 
and  went  into  a  closet  and  calling  her  good  detcrminatiort  vtittt 
mind,  and  the  wicked  execution  thereof,  she  passed  al  thtJ 
night  in  weeping  and  lamenting  all  alone :  but  in  slead  of  ac- 
knowledging of  the  impossibilitie  of  our  flesh,  that  without 
God's  help,  cannot  but  sinne,  des'ringby  her  selfe,  and  by  her 
teares  to  satisfie  her  fault  past,  and  by  hir  wisedomc  to  auoyda 
the  euill  to  come,  she  laide  the  excuse  of  her  sinne  vpon  thrf 
occasion,  and  vpon  the  weakenes  of  flesh  and  blood,  whereunto 
there  is  no  remedy  but  only  by  the  grace  of  God  ;  she  thought 
to  do  that,  whereby  in  time  to  come  she  might  not  fal  into  tha 
like  inconuenience ;  and  as  though  there  were  but  one  kitidrf 
of  sinne  to  damne  man,  she  deuised  all  the  meanes  she  could 
to  auoyde  the  same.     But  the  roote  of  pride  which  exterriall 
sinne  should  heale,  increased  in  her  heart,  in  such  raaner,  that 
by  auoyding  one  mischiefe  she  fel  into  diuers  others :  for  thtf 
next  morning  as  soone  as  it  was  day,  she  sent  for  her  sonnc'tf 
schoole  maister  and  said  vnto  him  :  Now  my  son  beginneth  ttt 
wax  great,  it  is  time  to  send  him  abroade.     I  haue  a  kinsraaH 
that  dvvelleth  beyond  the  mountains  with  Monsis  the  greaif 
maister  du  Chammont,  that  will  be  very  glad  to  haue  him  iri 
his  company,  wherefore  I  pray  you  bring  him  thither;  and  Id 
thend  I  be  not  grieued  whh  his  departure,  let  him  not  confie 
to  take  his  leaue  of  me.     And  saying  so,  she  gauc  him  moneys 
to  beare  his  charges  for  the  voyage :  and  the  same  morning* 
caused  the  yong  gentleman  to  depart,  that  was  very  glad  at  no^ 
thing  eUe  than  after  the  inioying  the  pleasure  of  his  loue,  togoe 
vnto  (he  wars.     The  lady  continued  long  time  in  great  melan- 
choly and  distresse  j  and  had  it  not  bin  for  the  feare  o(  God,  she 
had  often  wished  the  end  of  the  vnfortunate  fruit  she  bare 
within  her  body.     In  the  end  she  fained  to  be  sicke,  that  vnder 
that  pretence  she  might  couer  her  imperfection  ;  and  bein« 
ready  to  be  deliueied,  remembring  that  there  was  no  man  itt 
the  world  in  whom  she  so  much  trusted,  as  a  bastard  brother 
of  her's,  whom  she  intertained  and  did  him  much  good,  she 
bent  for  liim,  and  shewing  him  her  hard  fortune  (but  made  him 
not  acquainted  that  it  was  by  her  sonne)  desired  him  to  help 
her,  and  to  saue  her  honour,  which  he  did:  and  not  long  be- 
fore she  should  lie  down,  he  gaue  her  counsell  to  chaunge  the- 
air,  and  to  go  to  his  house,  where  she  might  sooner  rccouer  her' 
health  than  in  her  owne.     She  went  thither  but  with  small 
traine,  and  there  she  found  a  midwife  ready  for  her,  that  by 
night  not  knowing  her,  brought  her  to  bed  of  a  fiyredaughterti 
the  gentleman  deliuered  it  vnto  a  nurse,  and  caused  it  to  b^ 
nursed  for  his  owne.    The  Lady  hauing  stayed  there  a  moneth, 
went  home  vnto  her  owne  house,  where  after  that  sheliufed 
more  strictly  than  euer  she  did,  both  in  fasting  and  discipline.: 
But  when  hrr  sonne  became  great;  perceiuing  no  warre  to  beirr 

ItalijJ.-' 


370 

Italic,  he  sent  to  desire  his  mother  that  he  might  come  see  her : 
shea  fearing  to  fall  into  the  euill  from  whence  she  had  escaped, 
would  not  permit  him,  till  in  thend  he  was  so  importunate  with 
her,  that  she  had  no  reason  to  deny  him.     Neuerthelesse  she 
sent  him  word,  that  he  should  neuer  come  vnto  her,  if  he  were 
not  married  to  a  wife  that  he  loued  wtl  j  and  that  he  should 
not  respect  her  riches,  so  she  were  honest,  and  it  should  suf- 
fice,    in  the  meaoe  time  her  bastard  brother  perceiuing  the 
daughter  whereof  he  had  the  charge,  to  waxe  gveat,  and  Very 
faire,  thought  to  place  her  in  some  house  farreoff,  where  shee 
should  not  be  kaowne  j  and  by  the  mother's  counsell,  gaue  her 
vnto  the  Queene  of  Nauarre.*     This  daughter,  named  Kathe- 
rine,  grew  to  the  age  of  twelueor  thirteene  yeres,  and  became 
so  faire  and  honest,  that  the  Q.  of  Nauarre  bare  her  good  af- 
fection, and  desired  much  to  mary  her  richly.     But  by  reason 
she  was  poore,  she  found  herselfe  to  haue  suteis  great  store,  but 
none  that  would  bee  her  husband.     Vpon  a  day  it  happened 
that  the  gentleman  that  was  her  vnknowne  father,  returning 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Alpes,  went  vnto  the  Queene  of  Na- 
uare's  house,  where  he  had  no  sooner  espied  the  mayd,  but  he 
became  amorous  of  her,  and  bicause  he  bad  licence  of  his  mo- 
ther to  mary  one  that  liked  him,  he  tooke  no  care  but  onely  to 
haue  a  wife  that  pleased  his  fantasie,  and  knowing  her  to  be 
such,  asked  her  in  manage  of  the  Queen,  that  most  willingly 
consented  as  knowing  the  gentleman  to  be  rich,  and  with  his 
riches  both  faire  and  honest.     The  mariage  being  finished,  the 
gentleman  wrot  vnto  his  mother,  that  from  thencefoorth  she 
iieede  not  refuse  him  her  house,  for  seeing  he  brought  with 
him  as  faire  a  wife  as  any  could  be  found.     The  gentlewoman 
that  enquired  with  what  house  he  had  matched  himselff ,  found 
hee  had  maried  their  ownc  daughter,  wherwith  she  was  in  such 
despaire,  that  [s]he  presently  thought  to  die,  perceiuing  that 
the  more  she  sought  to  hinder  her  griefe,  the  more  she  was  the 
means  to  increase  the  same.    Whereupon  not  knowing  what  to 
doe,  she  went  vnto  the  Legate  being  at  .^uignion,  to  whom  she 
confessed  the  gieatnes  of  her  sinne,  asking  his  counsell  what 
she  should  doe  therein.     The  Legat  to  satisfie  her  desire,  sent 
for  certaine  deuincs,  to  whom  he  vttered  the  matter  not  natn- 
iog  the  persons,  and  found  by  their  counsel,  that  the  Gentle- 
woman ought  not  to  make  it  knowne  vnto  her  children,  for  that 
for  their  parts  considering  their  ignorance,  they  had  not  sinned, 
but  that  she  during  her  life  ought  to  do  penance  without  mak- 
ing any  shew  thereof.    Which  done,  the  poore  woman  returned 
home,  where  not  long  after  ariued  her  sonne  and  her  daughter 

*  The  air  of  truth  with  which  the  royal  autboress  contrived  to 
give  spirit  to  her*  n.irrations  .lifords  tiie  pleasing  hope  that  this 
unfortunate  story  was  the  coinage  of  her  own  fancy,  and  has  since 
only  become  popular  from  its  singularity. 


371 

in  lawe  that  lowed  so  wel,  that  neuer  husband  nor  wife  luuftd 
in  better  sort,  for  she  was  both  his  daughter,  sister,  and  wife, 
and  he  too  her  father,  brother  and  husband  j  in  which  great 
amity  they  continued  long  :  and  the  poore  gentlewoman  in  her 
extreme  penance,  that  neuer  sawe  them  merry,  butshee  with- 
drew herselfe  to  weepe." 

J.  H. ; 


«[f  M.  Derings  workes.  More  at  large  then  euef  hath 
hee re-to-fore  been  printed  in  one  volume.  London, 
printed  by  Edward  Grijin  for  Edward  Blount, 
1614. 

The  Contents  enumerated  at  the  back  of  the  title  are, 
A  sermon  preached  before  the  Queen,  another  at  the 
Tower,  27  lectures  or  readings  upon  Hebrews;  Certain 
godly  letters;  A  brief  and  necessary  catechism;  godly 
private  prayers;  and  also  certain  godly  speeches.  Then 
follow  an  address  to  the  Christian  Reader  and  a  new 
title  page,  of  A  Briefe  and  necessarieCatecbisrae  or  In- 
struction, very  needful  1  tobeknovvneofall  Housholders: 
whereby  they  may  teach  and  instruct  their  family  in 
such  poynts  of  Christian  Religion  as  is  most  meate, 
with  prayers  to  the  same  adioyning.  Psalme  34.  11. 
Come  Children,  hearken  vnto  mee,  I  will  teach  you 
the  feare  of  the  Lord.  London.  Printed  by  W.  laggard. 
lGl4.  At  the  back  of  the  title  commences  a  prefatory 
address,  from  which  the  following  extract  of  the  he- 
ginning  is  selected  as  a  literary  curiosity,  being  dated 
n\  157i. 

"  To  the  Reader.  ^ 

"  It  shal  not  be  necessary  for  mee  (most  louing  brethren) 
to  shew  any  causes  for  mine  owne  excuse,  why  I  haue  at- 
tempted the  setting  forth  of  this  little  catechisme,  as  though  I 
had  rashly  aduentured  aboue  that  was  meet,  to  set  forth  any 
thing  to  bee  common  by  roy  priuate  aduice  :  or,  as  though  I 
h^d  presumed  aboue  mine  ability,  to  become  so  general  a 
teacher,  hauing  myselfc  so  raeane  vnderstanding.  For  in 
these  daies  in  which  there  is  so  great  lice nciousnes  of  printing 
bookes,  as  indeed  it  maketh  vs  ai  the  worse,  wh«  can  blame  it 
that  hath  any  tast  or  sauour  of  goodnesse,  be  it  neuer  so  simple^. 
if  it  had  no  other  fruit  ?  Yet  tliis  is  great  and  pleiuiful,  that 


fc  ifeadih^it,  we  shotild  ke^p  our  eies  from  much  godless'e  and' 

•bHdish  Vanity,  that  hath  now  blotted  so  many  papers.    We 

Hxxi  al,  &  we  mourn  for  griefe,  so  many  as  in  spirit  and  truth' 

do  lOue  the  Lord  :   what  niultitude  of  bookes,  ful  of  all  sin' 

and  abhominatibns,  haue  now  filled  the  world  !  Nothing  50 

childish,  nothing  so  vaine,  nothing  so  wanton,  nothing  so  idle, 

which  is  not  both  boldly  printed  &  plausibly  taken,  so  that 

herin  we  haue  fulfilled  the  wickednes  of  our  forefathers,  and 

ouerlaken  them  in  their  sins ;  They  had  iheir  spiritual  in-~ 

chantments,  in  which  they  were  bewitched,  Beuis  of  Hampton, 

fiuy'of  Warwick,  Arthur  of  the  roud  table,  Huon  of  Burdau^^ 

diuer  of  the  Castle,  the  foure  sons  of  Aymon,  and  a  great 

many  other  of  such  childish  folly.     And  yet  more  vanity  then 

these,  the  witlesse  deuices  of  Gargantua,  Howie  glasse,  Esope, 

Robin-hood,  Adam  bell,  Frier  Rush,  the  feoles  of  Gotham, 

&  a  thousand  such  other.     And  yet  of  al  the  residue,  the  most 

^I'uOken  imaginations,  with  which  they  so  defiled  their  festiual 

&  high  Holidaies,  their  legendary,  their  saints  Hues,  their 

tales  of  Robin  good  fellow,   &  many  other  spirits,   which 

Sathan  had  made,  hel  had  printed,  &  were  warrantedjto  sale 

vnder  the  Pope's  priuiledge,  to  kindle  in  mens  harts  the  sparks 

of  superstition,  that  at  last  it  might  flame  out  into  the  fire  of 

purgatory.    These  were  in  the  former  dales,  the  subtle  sleights 

of  Sathan  to  occupy  Christian  wits  in  heathen  fantasies.     And 

•we  as  men  that  cannot  learn  wisedome  by  any  example  to 

keep  ourselues  fro**  harm,  but  as  though  the  wickednes  of  our 

forefathers  were  not  yet  ful,  we  wil  make  vp  their  measure, 

it  set  vp  shrines  to  the  word  of  God,  and  the  writings  of  al  his 

saints,  which  our  fore  fathers  had  cast  out  of  al  honor,  that 

their  ownedrtames  and  illusions  might  be  had  in  price.     To 

this  purpose  (I  trow)  wee  haue  multiplied  for  our  selues  so 

many  nevce  delights,   that  we  might  iustifie  the  idolatrous 

iuperstitio~  of  the  elder  world.     To  this  purpose  we  haue 

printed  vs  many  baudy  so^gs  (I  am  loth  to  vse  such  a  loathsome 

word,  saue  that  it  is  not  fit  enough  for  so  vile  endeuers.)    To 

this  purpose  we  haue  gotten  our  songs  and  so~nots,  our  pallaces 

of  pleasure,*   our   vnchast  fables,  and    tragedies,  and  such 

like  sorceries,  nrbe  then  any  man  may  reckon.     Yea,  some 

haue  bin  s6  impudent,  as  new  born  Moabites,  which  wallow  itt 

their  own  vomit,  and  haue  not  bin  ashamed  to  intitle  their 

books  the  Court  of  Venus,  the  Castle  of  loue,  and  tnany  other 

as  shamelesse  as  these.     O  that  there  were  among  vs  some 

zealous  Ephestans,  that  books  of  so  great  vanity  might  ht 

burned  vp^.     The  spirite  of  God  vtrought  in  them  so  mightily 

• 'tliSd^hot' leeri  either'the  work  forming  the  subject  of  the 
pi'ifciatng  article,  or  the  above,  when  the  introduction  of  the  new 
elMon  erf  the  Falace  of  Pkature  was  stfnt  to  press. 


573 

that  they  conteine<1  the  price  of  so  grrat  iniquity,  in  one  citty, 
that  at  one  fire  they  brought  together  the  books,  valued  at  two 
thousand  marks,  and  burnt  them  al  at  once.  O  happy  light, 
and  cleare  as  the  snn  beames,  if  we  might  see  the  like  in 
London,  that  the  chiefest  street  might  be  sanctifiec!  with  so 
holy  a  sacrifice.  The  place  it  selfe  doth  craue  it,  and  holdeth 
vp  a  gorgeous  Idol,  a  fit  stake  for  so  good  a  fire.  O  Lord  thou 
art  able  to  worke  what  thou  wilt,  let  vs  see  this  day  that 
Jacob  may  reioce,  &  Israel  may  be  glad." 

The  address  extends  to  eight  pages  of  very  small 
print,  and  is  dated  "  from  my  ehamber,  the  22d  of 
Aprill,  ]57<2.  Thine  in  the  Lord,  Ed.  De."  The 
*'  xxvii  lectvres,  or  readings,  vpon  part  of  the  Epistle 
written  to  the  Hebrues,  made  by  Maister  J'ldward 
Deering,  Bachclour  of  Diuinitie  :"  has  also  a  distinct 

title. 

•A 
ai  Dec.  1813.  -* 

J.tt.     • 


•[  Mythomi/stes,  luherein  a  short  svrv ay  is  taken  of  the 
natvre  and  valve  of'  trve  Poesy  and  depth  of  the 
Ancients  above  ovr  moderne  poets.  To  which  is 
annexed  the  tale  of  Narcissus  iriefy  mylhologized, 
London^  Printed  for  Henry  Seyle^  at  the  Tiger's^ 
head  in  St.  Paul's  Church-yard.  n.  d.  qto.  60 
leaves. 

In  the  dedication  inscribed  "  to  the  right  Hon^  and  my- 
cuer-honor'd  Lord,  Henry  Lord  Matrauers,"  the  author  telU 
his  Lordship,  that  being  a  lover  of  Painting,  so  of  necessity  he 
must  love  her  sister  the  Art  of  Poesy,  and  adventures  to  present- 
a  slight  draft  of  her  to  his  Lordship,  "  some  moneths  since 
conceiued  and  euen  as  soone  borne."  Concluding  *'  your  Lo''* 
humble  and  most  afiVctionate  seruant  H.  R." 
■  "  To  the  candid  and  ingenvovs  Reader,  Looke  not  generou* 
reader  (for  such  I  write  to)  for  more  in  the  few  following  leaues, 
then  a  plaine  and  simple  verity  vnadornfd  at  all  with  elo-; 
qution,  or  rhetoricall  phrase  j  glosses  fitter  perhaps  to  be 
set  vpon  silken  and  thinne  paradoxicall  semblances,  then  ap- 
pertaining to  the  care  of  who  desires  to  lay  downe  a  naked  and 
vnmasked  trueth.  Nor  expect  heere  an  encomium  or  praise  of 
any  such  thing  as  the  world  ordinarily  takes  Poesy  for  ;  thnt 
same  thing  beeing  (as  I  conceiue)  a  superficial!  meere  outside  of 
Sence,  or  gaye  barke  only  (witi)out  the  body)  of  reason.  Wit- 

\oL.  II.  c  c  nessc 


S74 

nessc  so  m.iuy  excellent  witts  that  haue  taken  so  much  paincs 
in  Uiese  times  to  defend  her;  which  sure  they  would  not  haue 
done,  if  what  is  generally  receiued  now  a  dayes  for  Poesy,  were 
not  mcerely  a  faculty,  or  occupation  of  so  liiile  consequence,  as 
by  the  louers  thereof  rather  to  be  (in  their  owne  fauour)  ex- 
cused, then  for  any  thing  good  in  the  thing  itselfc,  to  be  com- 
mended. Nor  must  thou  heere  expect  thy  solution,  if  thy  curi- 
osity inuite  thee  to  a  satisfaction  in  any  of  the  vnder-acci- 
dentcs,  but  in  meerely  the  essential  forme,  of  true  Poesy :  Such 
I  call  the  accidents  or  appendixes  thereto,  as  conduce  somewhat 
to  the  matter,  and  end,  nothing  to  the  reall  forme  and  essence 
thereof.  And  these  accidents  (as  I  call  them)  our  commenderg 
and  defenders  of  Poesy  haue  chiefely,  and  indeed  sufficiently 
insisted  and  dilated  vpon  :  and  are  first,  those  floures  (as  they 
are  called)  of  Rhetorick,  consisting  of  their  Anaphoras,  Epis- 
trophes.  Metaphors,  Metonytnyes,  Syrecdoches,  and  those  their 
other  potent  tropes  and  figures ;  helpes,  (if  at  all  of  vse  to 
furnish  out  expressions  with)  much  properer  sure,  and  more 
fitly  belonging  to  Poesy  then  Oratory;  yet  such  helpes,  as  if 
nature  haue  not  before  hand  in  his  byrth,  giuen  a  poet  all  such, 
forced  art  will  come  behind  as  lame  to  the  businesse,  and  defi- 
cient, as  the  best-taught  counlrey  morris  dauncer  with  all  his 
bells  and  napkins,  will  ill  deserue  to  be  in  an  Inne  of  Courte  at 
Christmas,  termed  the  thing  they  call  a  fine  reueller." 

The  work  commences  with  the  following  extract, 
which  contains  all  the  observations  relating  to  the 
English  poets. 

"  Mythomystes :  wherein  a  short  svr\'ay  is  taken  of  the 
natvre  and  valve  of  trve  Poesie,  and  depth  of  the  ancients 
atwue  our  moderne  Poets.  I  Haue  thought  vpon  the  times 
wee  liue  in  ;  and  am  forced  to  affirme  the  world  is  decrepit, 
and  out  of  its  age  &  doating  estate,  subiect  to  all  the  imperfec- 
tions that  are  inseparable  from  that  wracke  and  maime  of  Na- 
ture, that  the  young  behold  with  horror,  and  the  sufferers 
thereof  lye  vnder  witli  murmur  and  languishme't.  Euen  the 
generall  Soulc  of  this  great  creature,  whereof  euery  one  of  ours 
is  a  seuerall  peece,  seemes  bedrid,  as  vpon  her  death  bed,  and 
neere  the  time  of  her  dissolution  to  a  second  better  estate,  and 
being  :  the  yeares  of  her  strength  are  past ;  and  she  is  now  no- 
thing but  disease  for  the  Soule's  health  is  no  other  than  meerely 
the  knowledge  of  the  Truth  of  things.  Which  health,  the 
world's  youth  inioyed,  and  hath  now  *  exchanged  for  it,  all 
the  diseases  of  all  errors,  heresies  and  different  sects  and 
scbism^s  of  opinions  and  vnderstandings  in  all  matter  of  Arts, 

.'  A-^i  the  world  hath  lost  his  youth  and  the  times  begin  to 
tUfX/t  old*     t  Esd.  cap.  14.     Margin. 

Sciences, 


375 

Sciences,  and  Learnings  whatsoeuer.  To  helpe  on  these  dis- 
eases to  incurability,  what  age  hath  euer  beene  so  fruitfull  of 
liberty  in  all  kindes,  and  of  all  permission  and  allowance  for 
this  reason  of  ours,  to  runne  wildely  all  her  owne  hurtfullest 
wayes  without  bridle,  bound,  or  limit  at  all »  For  instance; 
what  bookes  haue  wee  of  what  euer  knowledge,  or  in  what 
mysteries  soeuer,  wisely  by  our  auncients  (or  auoiding  of  this 
present  malady  the  world  is  now  falne  into),  couched  and  care- 
fully infoulded,  but  must  bee  by  euery  illiterate  person  without 
exception,  deflowred  and  broke  open,  or  broke  in  pieces,  be- 
cause beyond  his  skill  to  vnlocke  the"?  Or  what  Law  haue  we 
that  prouides  for  the  restraint  of  these  myriads  of  hotheaded 
wranglers,  &  ignorant  writers  and  teachers,  which,  out  of  the 
bare  pruiledge  of  perhaps  but  puny  graduate  in  som  Vniuer- 
sity,  will  venter  vpon  all,  euen  the  most  remoued  and  most 
abstruse  knowledges,  as  perfect  vnderstanders  and  expounders 
of  them,  vpon  the  single  warrant  of  their  owne  braine;  or  in- 
uenters  of  better  themselues,  than  all  Antiquity  could  deliuer 
downe  to  them;  out  of  the  treasonous  mint  of  their  owne  ima- 
ginations? What  hauocke,  what  mischiefe  to  all  learnings,  and 
how  great  a  multiplicity  of  poysonous  errours  and  heresies  must 
not  of  necessity  hence  ensue,  and  ouerspread  the  face  of  all 
Truths  whatsoeuer  ? 

"  Among  these  heresies  (to  omit  those  in  matter  of  diuinify, 
or  the  right  forme  of  worshipping  God,  which  the  doctors  of 
his  church  are  fitter  to  make  the  subiects  of  their  tongues  and 
pens,  than  I,  a  Layman,  and  all-vnworthy  the  taske,)  among, 
I  say,  these,  (if  I  may  so  call  them)  heresies,  or  ridiculous  ab- 
lurdities  in  matter  of  humane  letters,  and  their  professors  in 
these  times,  I  find  none  so  grosse,  nor  indeed  any  so  great 
scandall,  or  maime  to  humane  learning,  as  in  the  almost  gene- 
rail  abuse  and  violence  offered  to  the  excellent  art  of  Poesyej 
first,  by  those  learned  (as  they  thinke  themselues)  of  our  dayes 
who  call  themselues  Poets ;  and  next,  by  such  as  out  of  their 
ignorance,  heede  not  how  much  they  prophane  that  high  and 
sacred  title  in  calling  them  so, 

*'  From  the  number  of  these  first  mentioned,   (for,  for  the 
last,  I  will  not  mention  them ;  nor  yet  say  as  a  graue  Father, 
and  holy  one  too,  of  certaine  obstinate  heretikes  said ;  Dedpim. 
antur  in  nomine  diaholi  ;  but  charitably  wish  their  reformation, '. 
and  cure  of  their  blindnessej)  from  the  multitude  (I  say)  of", 
the  common  rimers  in  these  our  moderne  times,  and  moderne 
tongues,  I  will  exempt  some  few,  as  of  a  better  ranke  and  con- 
dition  than  the  rest.    And  first  to  beginne  with  Spaine.   I  will 
«ay  it  may  iustly  boast  to  haue  afforded  (but  many  ages  since) 
excellent  Poets,  as  Seneca  theTragedian,  Lucan,  and  Martial*,  the 
Epigrammist,  with  others  ;  and  in  these  latter  times,  as  diuerse 
in  prose,  some  good  Theologians  also  in  Rime  ;  but  for  other 
c  c  2  Poesies 


370 

?oesies  in  their  .'now  spdn")  tincfr.e,  of  any  great  name,  (not 
to  extoil  thpir  trifling,  though  extolled  Celestina,  nor  the  se- 
cond part  of  their  Dianna  de  Monte  Major,  better  rcuch  than 
the  first;  and  these  but  Poeticke  prosers  neither,)  I  cannot  say 
it  affords  many,  if  any  at  all:  The  inclination  of  that  people 
being  to  spend  much  more  wit,  aid  more  happily  in  those 
prose  Romances  they  abound  in,  such  as  their  Lazaiillo,  Don 
Quixote,  Guzman,  and  those  kind  of  Ciu-nta  s  of  their  Picaro's, 
and  Gitanillas,  than  in  Rime.  The  French  likewise,  m.ore  than 
for  a  ilonsart,  or  Des-Portes,  but  chiefly  their  Salust,  (who  may 
passe  among  the  best  of  our  modernes,)  I  can  say  little  of.  Italy 
hath  in  all  times,  as  in  al;  abilities  of  the  mind  besides,  been 
much  fcrtiler  than  either  of  these  in  Poets.  Among  whom  (to 
omit  a  Petrarch,  who  though  he  was  an  excellent  rinier  in  his 
owne  tongue,  and  for  his  Latine  Africa  iusily  deserued  the 
laurell  that  was  giuen  him,  yet  was  a  much  exccUmter  Piiilo- 
sopher  in  prose;  and  with  time,  a  Bf-mbo,  Dante,  Ang.  Poli- 
tiano,  Caporale,  Pietro  Aretino,  Sannazaro,  Guarini,  and  di- 
uers  others,  men  of  rare  fancy  ail)  I  must  preferre  chiefely 
three;  as  the  grnue  and  learu'-d  Tasso,  in  h\'i  Set  te  giorni,  (a 
diuine  worke)  and  his  Gierusahm  liberata,  so  farre  as  an  ex- 
cellent pile  of  mcerely  Morall  Philosophy  may  descrue.  Then, 
Ariosto,  for  the  artfull  woofe  of  hi-;  ingf-nions,  though  vnniean- 
ing  fables;  the  best,  perhaps,  haue  in  that  kind  beene  sang 
since  Oiiid.  And  lastly,  that  smooth  writ  Adonis  of  Marino,' 
full  of  various  conception,  and  diuersity  of  learning.  The 
Douche  1  c::nnot  mention,  being  a  stranger  to  their  minds,  and 
manners,  therefore  I  will  retmne  lioine  to  my  Country-men, 
and  mother  tongue  :  And  heere,  exempt  from  the  rest,  a  Chau- 
cer, for  some  of  his  poems  ;  chiefely  his  Troylus  and  Cresside. 
Then  tbs  generous  and  ingenious  Sidney,  for  his  Smooth  and ' 
artfull  Arcadia,  (and  who  I  could  wish  had  choze  rather  to 
haue  left  vs  of  his  pen,  an  Encomiasticke  Poeme  in  honour, 
then  prose-apology  in  defence,  of  his  fauorite,  the  excellent  art 
of  Poesy.)  Next,  I  must  approue  the  le.'.rned  Spencer,  in  the 
rest  of  his  Poe-ms,  no  lesse  then  his  Fairy  Queene,  an  exact 
body  of  the  Ethicke  doctrine:  though  some  good  iudgments 
haue  wi.>.ht  (and  perhaps  not  without  cause)  that  he  had  therein 
beene  a  little  freer  of  his  fiction,  and  not  so  clo'se  rinet«rd  to 
bis  Morall;  no  lesse  then  many  doe  to  Daniell's  Ciuile  warrs 
that  it  were  (though  otherwise  a  commendable  worke)  y^t 
somwhat  more  than  a  true  Chronicle  history  in  rime  ;  who,  in 
other  lesse  laboured  things,  may  haue  indeed  more  happily, 
(howeuer,  alwayes  cleerely  and  smoothly)  written.  Wee  haue 
among  vs  a  late-writ  Polyolbion,  also,  and  an  Agincourte, 
wheiTa  I  will  only  blame  their  honest  Authour's  ill  fate,  in  not 
hauing  laid  him  out  some  happier  Clime,  to  haue  giuen  ho- 
nour and  life  to,  iu  some  happier  language.    After  tliese,  (be-  ■ 

sides 


377 

•«ides  some  late  dead)  there  arc  ol hers  now  lining,  dramatirkr 
and  liricke  writers,  (h:it  I  nnsl  dcsenudly  command  t<>r  tho.*; 
parts  of  fancy  and  imagination  they  possesse  ;  and  should  much 
more,  could  wee  see  them  somewhat  more,  force  those  gifts, 
and  libera'.l  graces  of  Nature,  to  the  end  shea  gaue  them ;  and 
therewith  worke  and  constantly  tire  vpon  sollid  knowledges; 
the  which  hauing  from  the  rich  fountes  of  our  reuerend  aun- 
cientSj  drawne  with  vnwearied,  and  wholsomely  imploied  in- 
dustries ;  they  might  in  no  lesse  pleasing  and  profitable  fictions 
than  they  haue  done  (the  very  fittest  conduit-pipes)  deriue 
dcwne  to  vs  the  vnderstanding  of  things  euen  farthest  remooued 
from  vs,  and  most  worthy  our  speculation,  and   knowledge. 
But  alas,  such  children  of  obedience,  I  must  take  leaue  to  say, 
the  most  of  our  ordinary  pretenders  to  Poesy  now  a  dayes,  are 
to  their  owne,  and  the  diseased  times  ill  habits,  as  the  racke  will 
not  bee  able  to  make  the  most  aduised  among  twenty  of  them 
confessed,  to  haue  farther  inquired,  or  attended  to  more,  in  the 
best  of  their  Authou-^s  they  haue  chosen  to  read  and  study, 
than  meei  ely  his  stile,  phrase,  and  manner  of  expression ;  or 
scarce  suffered  themselues  to  looke  beyond  the  dimensions  of 
their  owne  braine,  for  any  better  counsaile  or  instruction  else- 
where.    What  can  wee  expect  then  of  the  poems  ihey  write  ? 
Or  what  can  a  man  mee  thinks  liken  them  more  fitly  to,  than 
to  Ixion's  issue  ?  for  hee  that  with  meerely  a  natur.ill  veine, 
(and  a  little  vanity  of  nature,  which  I  can  be  content  to  allow 
a  poet)  writes  without  other  grounds  of  sollid  learning,  thari 
the  best  of  these  vngrounded   rimers  vndersta^d  or  aimc  at, 
■what  does   he  more  than   imbrace   assembled   cloudes   with 
Ixion,  and  beget  only  monsters?  This  might  yet  be  borne  with, 
did  not  these  people  as  co~fidently  vsurpe  to  them  seines  the  ti- 
tle of  Schollers,  and  leirned  men,  as  if  they  possest  the  know- 
ledges of  all  the  Magi,  the  wise  East  did  euer  breed  ;  when,  let 
me  demand  but  a  reason  for  security  of  my  iadgeraent  in  al- 
lowing them  for  such,  they  straite  giue  mee  to  know  they  vn- 
derstand  the  Greeke,  and  Latine;  and  in  conclusion,  I  discouer 
the  compleate  crowne  of  all  their  ambition,  is  but  to  be  stiled 
by  others  a  good  Latinist  or  Grecian,  and  then  they  stile  tbcra- 
selues  good  SchoHeis.     So  would  I  too  had  I  not  before  beene 
taught  to  say  :  Non  quia  Graca  scias,  vel  calks  -verba  Latina, 
Doctus  es  aut  sapiens.   Sed  quia'vera  -vides ;  and  besides,  hapncd 
to  know  a  late  trauailing  Odcombian  among  vs;  that  became 
(I  know  not  for  what  Mortailer  sinne  than  his  variety  of  lan- 
guage)  the  CO  nmon  scorne  and  contempt  of  all  the  abusiifb 
witts  of  the  titue:  yet  possesst  both  those  languages  in  great 
perffciion  ;  as  his  eloquent  Oiations  in  both  toungs  j   (and  vt- 
tered  vpou  his  owne  head  *  wiihout  prompt':ng)  haue  cutTSuf- 

*  For  t!  ey  made  him  stand,  and  spe.:ke  Grccke  vpon  liis  head 
with  his  hecles  vpward.     Margin. 

ficiently 


378 

ficiently  testified.  Now,  finding  this  to  be  the  greater  part  of 
the  Schollership  these  our  Poets  endeauour  to  hane,  and  which 
many  of  them  also  hauej  I  tind  with  all,  they  sit  downe  as  sa- 
tisfied, as  it"  iheir  vnfurnish  brests  contained  each  one  the  learn- 
ing and  wi^domeofan  Orpheus,  Virgil,  Hesiod,  Pindarus,  and 
Homer  altOLje'.her.  When  as,  what  haue  they  else  hut  the 
baike  and  doathing  meerely  wherein  their  high  and  profound 
doctrines  lay  ?  Nfuer  looking  farther  into  those  their  golden 
fictions  tor  any  higher  sence,  or  any  thing  diuiner  in  them  in- 
foulded  &  hid  from  the  vulgar,  but  lulled  with  the  meruellous 
expression  and  artfull  contexture  of  their  fables — tanf^uam  pa- 
rui  pueri  <as  one  saies)  per  Irnniam  ad  ignem  sessitantes,  aniles 
nugas  fabelldsque  de  Poetis  imhibunt,  cum  interim  de  vtiliore 
sanctiorique  Sententia  minime  sunt  so/liciti.i 

"  I  haue  staid  longer,  and  rubde  harder  mee  thinkes  than 
needes,  vpon  the  sore  of  our  now  a  day  Poets,  Let  mee  leaue 
them,  and  looke  backe  to  the  neuer  enough  honoured  Aun- 
cients." 

At  the  end  of  the  volume  is  the  tale  of  Narcissus, 
which  the  author  "had  diuerseyeares  since  put  into 
English,"  and  from  which  the  following  description 
of  Narcissus  and  Eccho  will  amply  seive  to  appreciate 
his  talents  as  a  poet. 

No  sooner  from  his  birth-day  had  the  sun 

After  three  lusters,  in  his  carre  of  light 

Three  ycarely  rounds  more  through  the  Zodiack  mn. 

When  this  bright  visadg'd  buoye  (Narcissus  hight) 

Was  growne  to  that  supreme  perfection 

OF  beauty,  and  grace,  combinde  to  breed  delight. 

As  no  degree,  no  stxe,  no  age  are  free. 

But  all  perforce  of  bira  enamour'd  be. 

The  winning  features  of  his  face  were  such. 
As  the  best  beauties  spcm'd  to  his,  but  badj 
Sweet,  soft,  and  (resh  to  looke  vpon,  and  touch. 
The  tender  hue  was  of  the  louely  lad  ; 
Widdowes  desir'd,  and  married  wiues  as  much. 
And  eu'ry  maid  a  longing  for  him  hadj 
No  harle  so  chaste,  and  free  from  amo'roos  fire. 
But  he  could  taintc,  and  kindle  with  desire. 

Yet  his  proude  hawty  minde  had  in  disdaine 
Whateuer  beauty  came  within  his  sight  j 
Nor  c^r'd*  the  choycest  virgins  loue  to  gaine. 
Whereto  by  kinde,  Nature  doth  man  inuitc  j 
l^or  ytt  of  riper  women  sought  to  obtain© 
'ike  vs'de  allay  of  the  bloud's  appetite  j 

Bo 


379 

But  only  lou'de,  ador'de,  and  deifi'de 
Himselfe,  dispizing  all  the  worlde  beside. 
One  day,  that  louely  brovve,  those  liuel/  eyes. 
That  ruby  lip,  that  alabaster  chinne 
And  crimson  cheeke  of  his,  a  Nymphc  espyes, 
A  Nymphe  that  neuer  doth  to  speak  beginne. 
But  readily  to  such  as  speake,  replies  j 
Though  all  her  words  lame  and  imperfect  been, 
Whi^e  in  her  mouthe  confounding  all  the  rest. 
Her  last  worde  only  comes  out  perfectest. 

This  Nymphe  which  then,  and  still  we  Eccho  name. 

That  answers  others  speeche,  but  speakes  to  none. 

Was  not  as  now,  a  roeere  voice  peec'd,  and  lame. 

But  forme  and  substance  had  of  flesh  and  bone  j 

When  to  her  toung  that  imperfrction  came 

To  vente  but  haUe  wordes,  and  them  not  her  owne. 

Through  a  disdaine  shee  in  the  breste  did  raise 

Of  Juno,  ielious  of  her  husband's  wayes. 

Ere  which  a  voice  shee  had,  so  sweete  to  th'  eare. 

With  a  discoarse  so  smooth,  and  full  of  pleasure. 

As  it  a  heauen  was  her  wordes  to  heai'e, 

Wordes  which  the  heauyest  grieuance  and  displeasure 

Could  mitigate,  and  easyer  make  to  beare, 

(Of  sweet  and  sage  so  equall  was  their  measure  j) 

For  still  shee  kept  them  by  discretion  good. 

Within  the  seemely  bounds  of  womanhood." 

J.H. 


^  Alcida.  Greenes  Metamorphosis.  Wherein  is  dis- 
couered  a  pleasant  transformation  of  bodies  into 
sundrie  shapes  shelving  that  as  vertues  heautifie  the 
mind,  so  vanities  giue  greater  staines,  than  the  per- 
fection  of  any  qiiaiitij  can  rase  out.  The  discourse 
confirmed  with  diuerse  merry  and  delightfull  His- 
tories;  full  of  graue  pri7iciples  to  content  age,  and 
sawsed  with  pleasant  parlees,  and  witty  answeres, 
to  satisjie  youth  :  profitable  to  both,  and  not  offen- 
siue  to  any.  By  R.  G.  Omne  ttilit  punctum,  qui 
miscuit  vtile  dulci.  London,  printed  by  George 
Furslowe,   lOl?.  qto.  sig.  K.  3. 

[Dedicated]  "To  the  Right  Worshipful!,  Sir  Charles  Blount, 
Knight,  indevved  with  perfections  of  learning,  and  titles  of  no- 
bility :  Robert  Greene  wisbelh  increase  of  honour  and  venue. 

"  Achilles 


3S0 

"  Achilles,  the  great  commnnder  of  the  mirrtitdones,  had  no 
■ooncr  (Right  Worshipful!)  ericountrcd  the  hardie  Troian  with 
his  courtclix,  and  rt-gistred  his  valour  on  the  helme  of  his 
euemie,  but  returning  to  his  tents,  hee  p>ourtraied  with  his  pen 
the  praise  of  Polixena,  ioyning  Amors  with  Armors,  and  the 
honor  of  bis  learning  with  tlie  resolution  of  his  Launc«.  In 
the  Olympiades  the  Laurell  striued  as  well  for  the  pen,  as  the 
speare :  and  Fallas  had  double  sacratice,  as  well  i)erfunies  of 
torne  papt-rs,  as  incense  of  broken  truncheons.  Entring  (r  ght 
•worshipful!)  with  deep  insight  into  these  premisses,  I  found 
blazoning  your  resolute  indeuors  in  deeds  of  armcs,  and  rt-port 
figuring  out  your  euer-intended  fauours  to  good  letters  :  pre- 
suming vpon  the  courteous  disposition  of  your  Worship,  i  ad- 
Ufntured  to  present  you,  as  Lucius  did  Caesar,  who  otTeicd  him 
an  Helmet  topt  wilh  plumes  in  warres,  and  a  bookx  stutTed 
with  precepts  io  peace,  knowing  that  Ca;sar  held  it  as  honor- 
able to  be  counted  an  Orator  in  the  Court,  as  a  souidier  in  the 
field.  So  (right  worshiptuU)  after  you  returne  from  the  low 
Countries  (passing  ouer  those  praise- worthy  resolutions  exe- 
cuted vpon  the  enimie)  seeing  absence  from  armes  had  trans- 
formed Campus  Martius  to  mount  Helicon,  I  ouerboldned  my 
selfe  to  trouble  your  worship,  with  the  hight  of  my  Metamor- 
phosis: A  pamphlet  too  simple  to  patronage  vnder  so  worthy  a 
Maecenas:  and  vnworthy  to  be  viewed  of  yoo,  whose  thoughts 
are  intended  to  more  serious  studies.  Yet  Augustus  would  read 
Poems,  and  write  Roundelayes,  rather  to  purge  melancholly 
with  toyes,  then  for  any  delight  in  such  trifles.  So  I  hope 
your  'Worship  wil,  after  long  perusing  of  great  volumes,  cast  a 
glance  at  my  poore  pamphlet  :  wherein  is  discouercd  the  ana- 
tomy of  Womens  affections :  setting  out  as  in  a  mirror,  ho\y 
dangerous  his  hazard  is,  that  sets  his  rest  vpon  loue  :  whose 
essence  (if  it  haue  any)  is  momentary  and  effects  variable,  if 
either  the  method,  or  matter  mislike,  as  wanting  scholarisme  in 
the  one,  or  grauity  in  the  other :  yet  if  it  shall  seme  your 
Worship  as  a  trifle  lo  passe  away  the  time,  and  so  slip  with  pa- 
tience, as  a  boord  iesi,  I  sl)all  be  lesse  grieued  :  if  any  way  it 
please  as  to  procure  you  delight,  I  shall  be  glad  and  satisfied 
as  hauing  gained  the  end  of  my  labours:  but  howsoeuer  hoping 
your  Worship  will  pardon  my  presumptioD  in  presenting;  and 
■w.eigh  more  of  the  well  all'ectcd  will,  then  of  the  bad  labored 
^01  ke,  I  wish  your  Wor-hip  such  fortunate  fauours  a$  you 
can  desire,  or  I  imagine.  Your  Woi ship's  to  command,  Rober4 
Greene. 

[Then,  an  address  wishing"]  to  the  Gentlenaen  rcad^Ts  health. 
"  Falling  (Gentlemen)  by  i  hance  amongst  a  company  of  no 
meane  Gentlewomen  :  after  supposes  and  such  ordinary  .sports 
past,  they  fell  to  prattle  of  the  qualities  incident  to  their  owrie 
»cxe :  one  amongst  the  rest,  very  indifl'cveut,  more  adclicted  »o 

teM 


381 

tell  the  truth,  then  to  selfe  conceit,  said.  That  women  that 
had  fauouis,  had  most  commonly  contrary  faults:  for  (quoth 
sbee)  beauty  is  seldome  without  pride,  and  wit  without  in- 
constancie.  The  Gentlewomen  began  to  blush,  because  shee 
spake  so  broad,  be  sure,  and  blamed  her  that  shee  vould  so 
fondly  foyle  her  owne  ne:,t.  Shee  still  maintained  it,  that 
what  she  had  spoken  was  true :  and  more,  that  she  had  for- 
gotten their  little  secrecie.  Whereupon  there  grew  arguments  : 
and  a  sophisticall  disputation  fell  out  amongst  the  Gentlewo- 
men, about  their  owne  qualities.  I  sate  still  as  a  cypher  in 
Algorisme.  and  noted  what  was  spoken :  which  after  I  had 
perused  in  my  chamber,  and  seeing  it  would  be  profitable  for 
yong  gentlemen,  to  know  and  foresee  as  well  their  faults  as 
their  tauoiirs.  I  drew  inio  a  fiction  the  forme  and  method,  in 
manner  of  a  Meiamorpiiosis :  which  (Gentlemen)  I  pre,<ent 
viito  your  wonted  cunesies,  desiring  you  not  to  looke  tor  any 
of  Quid's  wittie  inuentions,  but  for  bare  and  rude  discourses: 
hoping  to  finde  you,  as  hitherto  I  haue  done  what^oeucr  in 
opinion,  y^t  lauoutable  and  silent  in  speech.  In  which  hope 
sftting  downe  my  rest,  1  bid  you  farewell.  Yours  euer,  as  he 
is  bound,  Robert  Greeoe. 

Commendatory  verses  follow  in  Latin  by  R.  A. 
Oxon.  G.  B.  Catit.  and  anonymous  :  in  English,  by  Ed. 
Percy,  and  Bubb,  Gent.  From  the  story,  want  of  room 
only  prevents  the  giving  any  extract. 

Robert  Greene  has  lately  obtained  an  advocate  to 
redeem  his  character  from  the  long  continued  obloquy, 
vith  which  it  has  been  shadowed  by  his  partial  or  inat- 
tentive biographers.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to 
idolize  my  author,  nor  attempt,  obstinately,  to  con- 
tend against  the  numerous  proofs  of  his  errors,  because 
1  continue  persuaded  of  the  injustice  formerly  done 
him  ;  and  that,  while  his  mind  contained  the  soundest 
principles  of  virtue,  enlarged  by  education  and  chas- 
tened by  retlecfioii,  his  heart  was  led  astray  in  the  ca- 
reer of  vanity,  and  only  revelled  in  the  acts  of  folly, 
with  a  restless  and  indefensible  hope  of  outstripping 
his  looser  associates.  Yet,  impressed  with  this  opinion, 
it  could  not  be  otherwise  than  gratifying  to  me  lately 
to  receive  an  intimation  that  tlie  efficient  pen  of  my 
coadjutor  was  likely  to  be  employed  upon  the  subject. 
In  a  Preface,  Critical  and  Biographical,  prefixed  to 
Greene's  Groatsivorth  oflVit,  reprinted  at  the  private 
press  at  Lee  Priory,  die  task  is,  in  part,  performed, 
and,  precluded  as  i   fee!  myself  from  expressing  any 

opiuioQ 


382 

opinion  in  this  place,  upon  the  Memoir,  I  may  yet 
be  allowed  to  observe  that  the  publication  forms  one 
of  the  most  splendid  and  perfect  specimens  of  typo- 
graphy that  has,  within  recent  date,  issued  from  the 
press  of  any  private  gentleman. 

J.  H. 


^  Bahilon,  a  pari  of  the  seconde  weeke  of  Gvillavme 
de  Salvste  Seignevr  dv  Bart  as.  With  the  Comment 
taricy  and  marginall  notes  of  S.  G.  S.  Englished  ly 
William  L'isle  Omne  tulit  punctum  qui  miscuit 
vtile  dulci.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Ed.  Bollifant, 
for  Richard  Watkins.  I396,  37  leaves. 

Dedicated  "  to  the  right  honovrable,  Charles  lord  Howard, 
baron  of  Effingham,  knight  of  the  most  rcnovvmed  order  of 
the  garter,  one  of  hit  majestie's  priuie  councell,  and  lord  high 
admirall  of  England,  &c."  wherein  the  writer,  after  describ- 
ing the  work  of  du  Bartas  as  a  stranger,  venturing  over  the 
seas,  notwithstanding  the  Spanish  fleets,  says,  "  so,  my  lord, 
with  a  fauorable  winde,  breathing  directly  from  the  french 
Helicon,  by  the  safe  conduit  of  your  honourable  name,  and 
helpe  of  the  Muses,  at  length  I  landed  my  stranger  in  Eng- 
land. Where,  since  his  arriuall,  he  hath  gladly  encountred 
diuers  of  his  elder  brethren,  that  were  come  over  before,  some 
in  a  princely  Scottish  attire,  others  in  faire  English  habits  j 
and  to  th'  entcnt  he  might  the  better  cnioy  their  companie, 
who  by  this  time  had  almost  forgotten  their  french,  he  was 
desirous  to  learne  englishe  of  me  :  . . . .  Whose  I  rest  euer  at 
command.    William  L'isle."  * 

The  argument  of  the  first  two  days  of  the  second 
week  is  given  in  prose  j  and  then  follows  the  poem  of 
Babilon,  in  which  the  text  is  repeatedly  broke  in  upon 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  the  notes  of  the  commen- 
tator. As  our  author's  pretensions  as  a  poet  are 
dubious,  it  requires  an  awakening  interest  by  subject 
to  give  currency  to  his  drawling  Alexandrines,  and 
therefore  the  following  specimen  has  been  selected 
from  the  Vision,  where  the  principal  languages  are 
scribed  as  applied  to  the  English. 

•  For  an  account  of  the  author,  see  Wood's  Fasti  I.  Col.  1+7, 
arid  Centura  Litehariaf  Vol.  I.  p.  291.  '      i  < 


383 

"The  speech  of  Englishmen*  hath  for  hir  strong  pillers. 

Three  knights,  £acow  and  More,  they  two  Lord  Chancellery 

Who  knitting  close  their  toong  rais'd  it  from  infancie,  , 

And  conpled  eloquence  with  skill  in  policie  : 

Sir  Philip  Sydney  third  who  like  a  cignet  sings 

Fair  Tham'ses  swelling  waues  beating  with  sifuer  wings: 

This  streame  with  honour  fild  his  eloquence  doth  beare 

Into  dame  Thetis  lap,  and  Thetis  eu'ry-where. 

But  what  new  sunne  is  thisf  that  beameth  on  mine  eies? 

What  ?  am  I  wrapt  amongst  the  heau'nly  companies  ? 

O  what  a  princt-ly  grace  !  what  state  imperiall  ! 

What  pleasant  lightning  eies  I  what  face  angelicall ! 

Ye  learned  duighters  of  him  that  all  gouerneth, 

Is't  not  th.it  Pallas  wise,  the  great  EHzabeth;  J 

That  makes  the  sturdie  men  of  England  nothing  bent 

For  man's  <  mpire  to  change  a  woman's  gouernment  ? 

Who  whiles  Erynnis,  loth  to  tarry  long  in  hell, 

Hir  neighbour  kingdomes  all  with  fire  &  sword  doth  quell. 

And  whiles  the  darkc  affright  of  tempest  roring-great 

Doth  to  the  world's  carack  a  fearfull  shipwracke  threat, 

Holdeth  in  happie  peace  hir  Isle,  where  true  beliefe. 

And  honorable  lawes  are  reck'ned  of  in  chiefe  : 

That  hath  not  onely  gift  of  plentie  delectable  ; 

To  speak  hir  mother-toong,  but  readily  is  able 

In  Latine,  Spanish,  French,  without  premeditation. 

In  Greeke,  Italian,  Dutch,  to  make  as  good  oration, 

*  The  speech  of  English.  For  ornament  of  the  English  toong 
he  nameth  Sir  Thomas  Moore  and  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  both  Lord 
Chancellors  :  the  first  of  them  was  very  learned  in  the  arts  and 
toongs  :  the  second  exceeding  well  scene  in  the  common  lawes  of 
England :  and  both  very  eloquent  in  their  mother  language.  As 
for  Sir  Philip  Sidney  he  deserueth  no  lesse  commendation  than  the 
poet  hath  giuen  him.  Chaucer  deserueth  the  like  commendation 
here  that  Osias  did  among  the  Spanish  Auctors. 

•f  But  what  new  sunne  is  this.  He  maketh  a  digression  in 
praise  of  the  Queene  of  England,  who  the  space  of  seuen  and  tbirtie 
yeeres  hath  gouernrd  hir  realme  in  great  prosperitie ;  so  as,  during 
the  troubles  and  ouerthrowes  of  other  kingdomes  about  hir, 
hir  seife  and  hir  people  haue  beene  preserued  from  infinite  dan- 
gers. This  famous  Queene  hath  also  the  toongs  heere  mentioned 
by  the  poet,  very  parfit,  and  at  this  day  by  the  singular  grace  of 
God  she  is  accounted  the  pretious  pearlc  of  tbe  North,  and  very 
fortunate  in  all  the  wars  she  taketh  in  hand  :  hir  happie  successe 
and  victories  are  euery  day  so  memorable,  that  they  deserue  to  be 
.  written  in  a  large  historie,  and  reuerenced  of  all  posteritie. 

+  For  the  fourth  piller  of  the  English  toong  he  nameth  our 
gracious  Queene  Elizabeth,  duly  and  truly  praising  hir  for 
wisdome,  maintenance  of  peace,  learning,  and  eloquence.  Margin. 

A* 


584 

As  Greece  can,  as  can  France,  as  Rome  emperiall. 
As  Rhine,  as  Arne  can,  pkad  in  their  naturall. 

0  bright  pearle  of  the  North,  martiall.  Mars -conquering, 
Loue  strll  and  cherish  arts,  and  heare  the  Muses  sing  : 
And  in  case  any  time  my  verses  winged  light. 

Shall  ouerth'  ocean  sea  to  thine  Isle  take  their  flight. 
And  by  some  happie  chaunce  into  th.it  faire  hand  slide. 
That  doth  so  many  men  with  lawfuil  scepter  guide  ; 
View  them  with  gracious  eie  and  fauourable  thought, 

1  wa^t  tbine  eloquence  to  praise  thee  as  I  ought." 

J.  H. 


%  A  Goodly  Gallerye  with  a  most  pleasaunt  prospect, 
into  the  garden  of  naturall  contemplation,  to  be- 
hold the  naturall  causes  of  all  ky^nde  of  Meteors,  as 
welfyery  andayery,  aswatry  and  earthly,  ofwhiche 
sort  he  biasing  sterres,  shooting  starrer,  Jiames  in 
the  ayre,  &^c.  thoder,  lightning,  earthquakes,  &fc, 
rayne^  dewe,  snowe,  cloudes,  spri?iges,  &^c.  stones, 
metulles,  earthes,  ^c.  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the 
profit  of  his  creaturs.  Psalm.  148.  Prayse  the 
JjOrde  vpon  earth  Dragons  and  all  deepes,  fyre, 
haile,  snowe,  ise,  wyndes,  and  storm  es,  that  doe  his 
wyll.    Londini.    Anno.  1563.     Colophon,  beneath 

-  the  printer's  device  and  motto.  Impry ted  at  Lon- 
don in  Fletestreate,  at  the  signe  of  the  Faucone,  by 
William  Griffith :  and  they  are  to  be  sold  at  his 
shop  in  S.  Dunstones  churchyarde  in  the  weste. 
1563.  12010.  74  leaves. 

A  new  title  page  to  this  little  intelligent  performance  was 
given  by  the  piinter  in  \5y\.*  It  is  dedicated  "  to  the  Right 
Honourable  the  Lorde  Robert  Dudley,  Maisier  of  the  Quenes 
maiesties  horse,  Knight  of  the  most  Noble  order  of  the  garter, 
and  one  of  the  Quenes  Maiesties  priuie  Counsel!.  William 
Fulce,  wishelli  increase  of  grace  and  heauenly  gifles,  in  perfect 
health  and  true  honor,  long  to  continue. " 

And  the  author  says  of  his  work  '♦  at  this  tyme,  I  was 
bolde  to  enterprise  the  matter,  for  that  one  James  Rowbo- 
thum,  a  man  of  notable  impudens  (that  I  saye  no  worse  of 
him)  abusinge  your  singuiar  humanitie  and  gentlenes  t-xpress- 
iug  tbexanaple  of  one  Bathillus,  or  rather  (ilial  I  may  con- 

•  Herbert  92 j. 

tinue 


S85 

tiniic  in  the  allegoric  of  birdes)  of  Esope's  crowc,  hath  nof 
ben  ashamed  to  dedicate  vnto  yoor  Lordship  of  ]ate  a  treatise' 
of  niyne,  which  I  gathered  out  of  diuerse  writers  concerning 
the  Philosopher's  game:*  notwithstanding   he  was  streightly' 
commaunded  to  the  contrary  by  the  right  honorable  and  reuc-' 
rent  father,    my  Lord  of  London,  of  whom  also  I  was  ex*' 
horted  and  encouraged  to  dedicate  the  same  vnto  your  honour,* 
niyselfe.     Whiche  though  nowe  through  his  importunitie  and' 
disobedice,    it  be  intercepted,   and  the  booke  defaced  with' 
his  rude  rythmes  and  penish  verses  if  yet  I  thought  best  to 
geue  your  Lordeship  vnderstanding  that  your    honorable  pro-^ 
tection  which  is  and  should  be  the  defence  of  learning  and' 
learned  men,  might  no  more  be  a  boldening  to  such  ignorant 
and  vnhonest  per^-ones." 

In  the  second  book  upon  Meteors  is  the  following  section' 
describing  "  of  lights  that  goeth  before  men,  and  foUoweth  th"! 
abrode  in  the  fields  by  the  night  season.     There  is  also  a  kind' 
of  light  y'  is  seen  in  the  night  season,  and  seemeth  to  goe  be-' 
fore  men,  or  to  followe  them,  leading  them  out  of  their  waye ' 
vnto  waters  &  other  daupgerous  places.     It  is  also  very  often' 
seen  in  the  night,  of  th"  thatsayle  in  the  sea,  &sometyme  will' 
cleave  to  y*^  mast  of  the  shyp,  or  other  highe  partes,  somtyme  ' 
slyde  round  about  the  shyppe,  and  either  rest  in  one  part  till 
it  go  out,  or  els  be  quenched  in  the  water.     This  impression  . 
seen  on  the  lande,  is  called  in  latin,  Ignis  fatuus ,  foolish  fyrc, 
that  hurteth  nor,  but  only  feareth  foules.  That  whiche  is  seen  ' 
on  y°  sea,  if  it  be  but  one,  is  named  Helena,  if  it  be  two,  it  is  . ' 
called  Castor  and  Pollux, 

The  foulishe  fyre  is  an  Exhalation  kendled  by  raeanes  of  vio-  ' 
lent  mouing,  when  by  cold  of  the  night,  in   the  lowest  region  ' 
of  the  ayrc,  it  is  beaten  downe,  &  then  commonly,  if  it  be 
light,  seeketh  to  ascende  vpward,  &  is  sent  down  againcj  so 
it  danseth  vp  .S:  downe.     Els  if  it  moue  not  vp  and  downc,  \t- 
li  a  greate  lompe  of  glueysh  or  oyly  matter,  that  by  mouing 
ot  tiie  heate  in  itselfe,    is  enflamed  of  itselfe,  as  moyst  haye 
wyll  be  kyndled  of  it  selfe.     In  whote  and  fenny  countries, 
these  lyghtes  are  often   seen,   and  whereas  is  abondance  of  " 
suche  vnctuus  and  fat  matter,   as  about  churchyardes  wher 
through  the  corruptio"  of  the  bodies  ther  buried,  y^  earth  is  ful 
of  suche  substance,  wherfore  in  churchyardes,  or  places  of 
common  buriall,  oftentimes  ar    such  lightes  seen,  which  ig- 
rioiant    and'  superstitious  fooles,  haue  thought  to   be  soulet 
torme~ted  in  the  fyre  of  purgatoris.    Indeds  y'  deuill  hath  vseJ 
these   lightes  (although  they  be   naturally  caused)  as  strong 
delusions  to  captiue  the  myndes  of  men,  w'  feare  of  the  pope'i 

♦  See  Herbert,  p.  803  &  805.     f  For  a  specimen  of  the  verse*  . 
SfC  Crnsura  Literaria,  vol.vi.  p.  261.  _   •  • 

purgatone. 


SB6 

purgatorie,  wherty  he  did  ope~  iniury  to  the  bloud  of  Christ, 
which  only  purgeth  vs  fro~  al  our  sinnes  fand  deliuereth  vs 
from  al  tortne'ts,  both  temporall  and  eternal,  according  to  the 
saying  of  the  wyse  ma",  the  soules  of  the  ryghteous  are  in  the 
hands  of  (Jod,  and  no  torment  toucheth  them.  But  to  returne 
to  the  lightes  in  which  there  ar  yet  twoo  thinges  to  be  consi- 
dered. First,  why  they  leade  men  out  of  their  waye.  And 
secondly,  why  they  seerae  to  follow  men  and  go  before 
the".  The  cause  why  they  leade  men  out  of  the  waye,  is, 
that  me  wliyle  they  take  hede  to  such  lights,  and  are  also 
sore  afrayde,  they  forgett  their  waye,  and  then  being  ones 
but  a  litle  out  of  their  waye,  they  wander  they  woote  not 
whether,  to  waters,  pyttes,  and  other  very  daungerous  places, 
which,  when  at  lengthe  they  happe  the  waye  home,  wyll  tell 
a  greate  tale,  how  they  have  been  lead  about  by  a  spirite  in 
the  likenes  of  fyre.  Nowe  the  cause  why  they  seenie  to  goe 
before  men,  or  to  followe  them,  some  men  haue  sayde  to  be 
the  mouing  of  the  ayer  by  the  goyng  of  the  man,  which  ayre 
moued,  shold  driue  them  forward  if  they  were  before,  and 
drawe  them  after,  if  they  were  behynd.  But  this  is  no  reason 
at  all,  that  the  fire  which  is  ofte"times,  thre  or  fowre  miles 
dislau«t  from  the  man  that  walketh,  shold  be  moued  to  and 
fro©  by  that  ayre  which  is  moued  through  his  walkinge,  but 
rather  the  mouing  of  the  ayre  &  the  man's  eyes,  causeth  the 
fyre  to  seeme  as  though  it  moued,  as  the  Moone  to  chyldren 
seemeth,  if  they  are  before  it,  to  run  after  them  :  if  she  be 
before  them,  to  run  before  them,  that  they  can  not  ouertake 
her  though  she  seeme  to  be  very  neare  them.  Wherfore  these 
lyghtes  rather  seeme  to  moue,  then  that  they  be  moued  ia 
deade.'" 

J.  H. 


f  Old  Madrigals.* 


"  In  vain  he  seeks  for  beautie  that  excellcth, 
That  hath  not  seen  her  eyes  where  Loue  soiourneth  j 
How  sweetly  here  and  there  the  same  she  turneth. 
He  knowes  not  how  loue  healeth  and  how  he  quellcih^ 
That  knowes  not  how  she  sighes  and  sweet  beguileth. 
And  how  she  sweetly  speakes  and  sweetly  smyleth. 


I 


*  M'vs'tca'Transalpitia,  Alt-vs.  Madrigal es  trafi}latedoffoure,fiue, 
sind  sixe  partes,  chosen  out  of  diners  excellent  authors,  'with  the  firsts 
and  second  fart  of  La  VerginelltL,  made   by  Maister  Bjrd,    n/pon 


S87 

ii. 
1  saw  my  lady  weeping  and  Loue  did  languish. 

And  of  their  plaint  ensued  so  rare  concenting. 

That  neuer  yet  was  heard  more  sweet  lamenting. 
Made  all  of  tender  pittie  and  mournfuU  anguish  : 

The  flouds  forsaking  their  delightful!  swelling. 
Stayd  to  attend  their  plaint ;  the  winds  enraged. 
Still  and  content  to  quiet  calm  asswaged. 

Their  wonted  storms  and  euery  blast  rebelling. 

(Part  2.) 

Like  as  from  heauen  the  dew  full  softly  showring. 
Doth  fall  and  so  refresh  both  fieldes  and  closes : 
^  Filling  the  parched  flowers  with  sap  and  sauour : 

So  while  she  bath'd  the  violets  and  the  roses, 
Vpon  her  louely  cheekes  so  freshly  fiow'ring  : 

The  spring  reneu'd  his  force  with  her  sweet  ^uour* 

iii. 

Sleeps,  sleepe  mine  only  juell. 
Much  more  thou  didst  delight  mee. 

Then  my  belou'd,  to  cruell, 
That  hid  hir  face  to  spyte  mee. 

(Part  2.) 

Thou  bringst  her  home  full  nye  me. 
While  she  so  fast  did  flye  me, 
By  thy  meanes  I  behold  those  eyes  so  shyning. 
Long  time  absented,  that  look  so  mild  appeased  j 

Thus  is  my  griefe  declyning  : 
Thou  in  my  dreames  dost  make  desire  well  pleased. 
Sleepe  if  thou  be  like  death,  as  thou  art  fayned, 
A  happy  lyfe  by  such  a  death  were  gayned. 

tuvo  Stanxa's  of  Ariosto,  and  brought  to  speake  English  'with  the 
rest.  Published  by  N.  Tonge  in  fauour  of  such  as  take  pleasure  in 
musicke  of 'voices.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas  East  the  assigne  of 
tVilliam  Byrd.  1588.  Cum  Priuilegio  Regia  Maiestatis.  Cantvs, 
Bassvs,  Sextvs,  same  date.  Dedicated  to  Gilbert,  Lord  Talbot, 
son  of  George,  Earl  of  Shrewsbury :  wherein  Yonge  observes, 
*'  I  endeuoured  to  get  into  my  hands  all  such  English  songes  as 
were  praise  wortbie,  and  amongst  others  I  had  the  hap  to  find  ia 
the  hands  of  some  of  my  good  friends  certaine  Italian  Madrigales 
translated  most  of  them  five  years  ago  by  a  gentleman  for  his 
priuate  delight,"  which  form  part  of  the  collection.  Dated  first  of 
October,  1588.  Contains  57  pieces.  For  extracts  from  second 
part  of  the  Musica  Transalpina,  see  Cens.  Lit,  Vol.  IX.  p.  5. 
In  the  present  collection  may  be  found  the  poem  inserted  in 
England's  Helicon,  ed.  1812.  p.  204.. 

IV.  Rvbici 


388 


llvbyes  and  pearles  and  treasure, 

Kingdomes,  renowne  and  glory  ; 

Please  the  delightful  minde  and  cheare  the  sory^ 
But  much  the  greater  measure 

Of  true  delight  he  gaineth. 
That  for  the  fruits  of  Louc  sues  and  obtaineth. 

V. 

The  fayre  yong  virgin  is  like  the  rose  vntainted. 
In  garden  faire  while  tender  stalk,  doth  beare  it  j 

Sole  and  vntoucht,  with  no  resort  acquainted, 

No  shepherd  nor  his  flock  doth  once  come  neere  it  : 

Th'ayre  full  of  sweetnesse,  the  motning  fresh  depainted, 
The  earth  the  water  with  all  their  fauours  cheer  it : 

Daintie  yong  gallants,  and  ladyes  most  desired. 

Delight  to  liaue  therewith  their  head  and  breasts  attyred. 

(Part  2.) 

Bvt  not  soone  from  greene  stock  where  it  growed. 
The  same  is  pluckt  and  from  the  same  remoued  ; 

As  lost  is  all  from  heauen  and  earth  that  flowed. 
Both  fauour  grace  and  beauty  best  beloutd  : 

The  virgin  faire  that  hath  the  flower  bestowed. 

Which  more  than  life  to  gard  it  her  behowed  ; 
Loseth  hir  praise,  and  is  no  more  desired 
Of  those  that  late  vnte  hir  loue  aspired.* 

vi. 
Zephirus  brings  the  time  that  sweetly  senteth. 

With  flowers  and  herbs  and  winter's  frost  exileth  j 
Progne  now  chirpeth  and  Philomele  Jamenteth, 

Flora  the  garlands  white  and  red  compilelh. 
Fields  doe  reioyce  the  frowning  skye  relenteth. 

Joue  to  behold  his  dearest  daughter  smylcth  : 
Th'  ayre,  the  water,  the  earth  to  ioy  consenteth  j 

jiach  creature  now  to  louc  him  reconcileth. 

CPart  1) 
But  with  me  wretch  the  storms  of  woe  per'seupr. 

And  heany  sighes  which  from  my  hart  she  straynrth  j 
That  tooke  the  keye  therof  to  heauen  for  euer. 

So  that  singing  of  byrds  and  spring  time  flowryng. 
And  ladies  loue  that  men's  affection  gayneth, 

Are  lyke  a  desert  and  cruell  beasts  deuouring. 

J.  H. 

♦  Thii  is  the  piece  in  two  parts  referred  to  in  the  title  as  by 
Bird. 

^  *|[  Memoir 


^^*.^MM,  -i-r^'-^'  »^»^^»^M  tLMU  'sw=±tss  s^  vAv  .-a ,.'ia^<^<^^~-y ,  j^-  j 


1 


Etecno -mauCvjta  dife  ciuT^^C(ciecafu\gent 
'Ec^uora,du.mc^^tttmerit  KecWi-ea  noftra^irebif 

iHincnoftraw  celebreet-no'mereferettjra.d  aft,ra*j.  j. 


•Vt\c|  i9j5KeItoTii.s:memorabitLir  alter  cid  onls 


I 


m 


389 
portrait  of  Blobn  ^l\eltott,  poet  ILaureat, 

OB  :  21  June  1529  J^-  abqut  68. 

The  doggrel  though  humourous  rhimos  of  this  an- 
cient poet  laureat  are  amongst  the  earliest  attempts  at 
personal  satire  in  our  language.  Chaucer  and  others 
that  preceded,  did  not  spare  the  drones  of  the  confes- 
sional, but  the  pungency  of  general  satire  never  equals 
scurrilous  ribaldry  and  low  invective  in  provoking  cu- 
riosity and  gratifying  the  invidious  appetite  of  the 
multitude.  Perhaps  from  that  circumstance  it  has 
happened,  that  while  the  works  of  earlier  poets  have 
but  slowly  and  almost  recently  obtained  general  cir- 
culation, many  of  the  pieces  of  Skelton  are  found, 
during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  when  much  of  their 
poignancy  had  abated,  to  have  the  renewed  impress 
of  several  printers,  and  to  be  preserved  for  posterity, 
when  the  names  of  better  poets  must  have  been  lost  in 
oblivion. 

His  works  were  partially  collected  as  "  pithy,  plea- 
sant^ and  profitable"  for  Thomas  Marsh  in  1568; 
and  reprinted  in  1736,  but  by  what  editor  is  not 
known.  There  is  an  unimportant  transposition  of  some, 
pieces  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  volume, 
Mr.  A.  Chalmers  has  since  given  place  to  Skelton's 
name  among  the  English  poets  :*  and  having  had  an 
opportunity  to  compare  the  original  edition  with 
Mr.  Chalmers's  volume,  I  can  pronounce  the  text  ver- 
bally accurate,  although  taken  from  the  reprint  of 
1736. 

We  had  collected  some  few  notices  relative  to  the 
author  and  his  works;  but  find  the  material  part  of 
them  incorporated  with  the  researches  and  additions 
made  by  Mr.  Bliss  to  Wood's  Athena  Oxonienscs.f 

As  our  readers  probably  possess  both  the  volumes  of 
Chalmers  and  Bliss,  which  have  so  lately  appeared,  we 
shall  not  consider  it  necessary  to  enlarge  upon  the 
subject  beyond  the  description  of  the  portrait  given  ia 
a  former  number. 

The  print  is  taken,  we  believe,  from  a  tracing  made 
by  the  late  George  Steevens ;  and  now  in   the  British 

•  Vol.  II.  p.  227.  t  Ed.  1813.  Vol.  I.  p.  49- 

TOL.  IV.  D  9  Museum. 


390 

Museum;  and,  as  appears,  in  the  hand-wriling  of 
Steevens,  is  from  the  back  of  the  title-page  to  "  A 
ryglit  delectable  tratyse  upon  a  goodly  Garlande  or 
Cnapelet  of  La ur ell  by  Mayster  Skelton  Poete  laureat 
studyously  dyvysed  at  Sheryfhotton  Castell.  Tn  ye. 
Joreste  of  galtres.  PVIiere  in  ar  cdprysyde  many  ^ 
dyvers  solacyons  c^  lygfit  pregnant  allectyves  of  syn- 
gular  pleasure,  as  more  at  large  it  doth  apere  in  ye. 
fees  folowynge. 

'*  Inprynted  by  me  Rycharde  faiikes  dwellydg  in 
dnram  rent  or  else  in  Powlys  chyrcheyarde  at  the  sygne 
of  the  A  B  C.  The  yere  of  our  lorde  god.  M.CCCCC. 
XXIII.  The.  III.  day  ofOctobre."  4to.  b.  1.* 

J.H. 


^  Honovr  in  his  perfection  :  or  a  treatise  in  commen" 
dations  oj  the  Vertues  and  Renowned  vertuous  vn- 
dertakings  of  the  Illustrious  and  Heroyicall  Princes 
Henry  Earle  of  oxenford.  Henry  Earle  of  South- 
ampton. Robert  Earle  of  Essex :  and  the  euer  praise- 
worthy and  much  honoured  Lord,  Robert  BartvCy 
Lord  IVillnughby^  of  Eresby :  with  a  briefe  Cro- 
nology  of  theirs,  and  their  Aimcestours  Actions. 
And  to  the  eternall  memory  of  all  that  follow  them 
nowy  or  will  imitate  them  hereafter,  especially 
those  three  noble  Instances^  the  Lord  fVjiouthesleyy 
the  Lord  Delaware,  and  the  Lord  Montioy.  At 
vuTic  horrentia  Mortis  arma  virumq:  Cano.  Lon- 
don, printed  by  B.  Alsop  for  beniami?i  Fisher, 
and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop  in  Pater  noster  Row, 
at  the  si  pie  of  the  Talbot.   l624.  4to. 

Dedicated  "  to  the  honovr  and  eternall  nnemorie  of  the 
foure  illustrious,  great,  heroyicall  and  noble  houses  ;  the  house 
of  Oxford  J  the  house  of  Sovthampton,  the  House  of  Essex, 
and  the  House  of  Willovghby,  and  lo  all  the  liuing  hraunches. 
Males  and  Females  which  truly  deriur.  ihemselues  from  a:iy  of 
those  long  honoured  and  princely  families."   And  is  subscribed 

•  •  Should  the  reader  compare  the  above  with  the  Ane:dotes  af 
Literature,  Vol.  I.  p.  aoy,  there  will  be  no  necessity  to  refer  to 
the  Crathcrode  Collection.  We  stand  pledged  for  the  accuracy 
pf  the  transcript  from  Steeven«. 

"a 


0-91 


"J 


"  a  df.ooted  and  true  adn.irer  of  your  honourd  vertues  G.  M." 
Probably  Gervase  Markham. 

Upon  a  single  leaf  are,  the  names  of  the  officers  in 
tlie  four  regiments  of  which  the  three  Earls  and  Lord 
Willoiighby  were  respectively  Colonels. 

"  Honovr  in  his  Perfection,"  commences  with  describing 
the  Excellency,  Antiquity,  duty,  glory,  and  reward  of  a  Sol- 
dier. A  definition  of  honour,  its  antiquity,  universality,  and 
priviledges.  An  invocation  to  Britain,  and  then  the  story  of 
the  house  of  Oxford  compared  with  Caesar.  Of  John  the  15th 
Earl  he  relates  that  "  Edward  the  fourth  (amazed  at  his  ac- 
tions) said,  '  that  Oxford  was  an  Eagle  in  the  warres,  and 
soared  aboue  the  clouds  when  he  thought  to  take  him,  but  fell 
suddenly  vpon  those  which  held  him  farther  off  and  shewed 
them  destiuction  :'  And  the  Duke  of  Gloster  being  asked  his 
opinion  of  this  Earle,  said,  '  He  was  the  best  sword  and 
buckler  that  euer  defended  the  House  of  Lancaster.". . .  Of 
John  the  l(5th  Earl  of  Oxford,  he  relates  an  amusing  story  of 
his  killing  a  wild  boar  when  on  foot  at  a  hunt  in  France  with 
a  common  rapier  to  the  admiration  of  the  noblemen  who  were 
beholders,  and  replying  to  the  observation  on  his  over  daring  : 
"  My  lords,  what  troubles  you,  or  what  myrackle  haue  I  done 
ofwhichlhaue  no  feeling,  is  it  the  killing  of  this  english 
pyg  ?  Why  euery  boy  in  my  Nation  would  haue  performed  it, 
they  may  be  bug-beares  to  the  French,  to  vs  they  are  but  ser- 
uants  ;  I  tel  you,  had  an  heard  of  Lyons  beenein  his  place,  I 
would  haue  done  as  much,  and  said  vnto  them  with  the  poet, 
Dominum  cog?iOicite  •vesirum.  I  tell  you  Man  was  created 
Master  of  all  liuing  creatures."  At  this  the  French  were  mute 
and  only  said  amongst  themselves  that  his  valour  and  his  For- 
tune had  shakt  bands  and  agreed  to  raise  his  name  above  com- 
parison." 

In  the  account  of  Henry,  second  Earl  of  Southamp- 
ton, the  author  speaks  of  having  lived  many  years 
where  he  daily  saw  the  Earl,  and  of  having  accompanied 
him  in  a  journey  to  the  Azores.  After  descanting  on  the 
families  and  honours  of  the  other  noblemen,  he  con- 
cludes with  the  following  as  "  a  remembrance  of  the 
Lord  VVriothesley,  the  Lord  De-V\^are,  and  tlie  Lord 
jVlontioy." 

"  When  (O  Britaine)  thou  hast  read  these  foure  Chronicles 
to  thy  younger  Schollers  ;  if  thou  tindest  any  hcauie  or  vnapt 
for  Noble  Action  :  especially,  where  youth  and  abilitie  of  Ijody 
hath  giuen  incouragement  of  better  hopes,  then  point  them 
out  thfse  three  young  Caesars  :  the  Lord  Wriothegley,  the 
Lord  La  Ware,  and  the  Lord  Montioy,  let  them  looke  vpon 

them 


392 

them  with  admiration,  and  when  thry  haae  pcrfitly  viewed 
them,  let  them  sigh  and  blush  for  shame  tliat  they  are  not 
equal!  partners  of  their  vndertaklngs ;  let  them  behold  the 
object  whereat  they  looke,  and  they  shall  finde  it  is  sacred  and 
not  prophane,  a  marke  of  holinesse,  not  a  blazing  meteor  of 
grcatntsse ;  looke  on  the  chaine  which  drawcs  them,  and  they 
sh<ill  finde  it  iustice,  not  the  quarrel  of  earthly  passion  j  and 
let  them  looke  at  the  end  wherat  they  would  aime,  and  they 
shall  fiude  it  in  Heauen  and  the  Communite  with  Saints  not 
the  Court  (which  is  the  Theater  of  worldly  praise)  nor  the 
princes  fauour:  But  if  all  this  preaaile  not,  but  still  this 
secure  Slumber  of  Peace  will  lye  heauy  vpon  them ;  then 
stirre  vp  thy  warme  bloud,  and  modestly  thus  chidi  them: 

**  Tell  them,  that  as  the  King  is  the  great  maine  Ocean  or 
Sea  of  all  Honour,  and  may  bestow  his  waters  freely  at  his 
pleasure  ;  so  expects  from  those  which  are  his  pettie  Riuets, 
that  hourel)'  to  him  they  pay  backe  their  Tributes  :  That  hand 
which  giues  Honor,  euer  lookes  from  the  honour'd  hand  to 
receiue  some  seruice ;  Then  you  (O  you  yong  men,  you  able 
men)  you  that  haue  receiued  honors  beyond  expectations,  fa- 
uours  past  hope,  and  wealth  past  merit.  Looke  whether  your 
Riuers  be  not  conuerted  to  standing  lakes,  and  no  Tribute  re- 
turned, and  whether  your  seruices  be  not  concealed,  whiles! 
poore  barren  wishes  only  make  gtod  ihe  place  of  a  dead  duty  ; 
if  you  6nde  these  falts  amend  them,  if  you  finde  these  falls 
iasake  them. 

"  Againe,  tell  these  great  ones  (whom  hardly  Thunder  can 
awaken)  that  when  they  neglect  Honour,  they  neglect  and 
ars  rebellious  against  God,  and  it  is  a  raeere  folly  for  them  to 
hope  to  rule  men,  whom  they  will  not  be  ruled  by  him  that 
made  them;  But  they  will  answere  thee,  that  greatresse  of 
place,  gines  them  priueledge  from  Censure,  and  so  they  can 
cary  a  faire  slit.w,  no  matter  for  sufficiencie.  Beply  thou  that 
it  is  folly  to  thinke  so,  for  assure  ihem  that  a  supfrficiall  shew 
of  sufficiencie,  is  but  like  small  wines  which  will  not  keepe, 
and  being  once  tainted,  no  poison  like  that  of  Contempt 

"  Say  vnto  those  which  are  dull,  and  want  good  matter 
wheron  to  build  grcHt  thoughts,  that  as  small  springs  are 
fcoon  emptied  if  the  be  often  drawne,  so  spirits  that  haue  weake 
fouudatious,  silence  is  good  to  make  them  seeme  wise  j  but 
when  Wiscdome  comes  to  proue  them,  euery  imagined  good 
thing  (in  thpin)  fals  asunder  like  so  many  disioyned  peiccs. 

"  Tell  the  phania-ticke  Mimniickes  of  honour,  thos« 
which  are  cairied  away  with  euery  shadow  of  fauour  or  fa- 
shion, that  neuer  fixe  vpon  any  thing  that  is  constant  or  seri- 
ous ;  that  alwaies  hunt  after  vanities,  and  ihinke  no  exercise  in 
Armes  so  meritorious,  as  tossing  a  ShyttiKvike  :  tell  them  the 
stu(}y  of  vaine  things  is  a  toilesome  Idleuesse,  and  a  painefult 

folly; 


393 

folly ;  the  spirit  which  is  strucke  with  this  disea^e^,  are  vcrf 
hardly  cured ;  neither  can  their  curiositie  in  this  kinde  (how 
carefull  soeuer)  alFord  them  any  thing  but  ignorance;  and  be- 
lieue  it,  there  is  nothing  more  dishonourable  or  daungcrous  ei- 
ther to  Court  or  Common-wealth,  then  an  Ignorant  great  one: 
Tell  them  that  Henry  the  Gxeat  of  France,  call'd  Ignorant, 
Noble  Men  Golden  Calues,  and  all  that  did  Ileuerence  to 
them,  well  worthy  to  perish  for  Idolatrie  :  It  was  his  opinion, 
that  Noblemen  might  bee  borne  good,  generous,  and  capable 
of  Vcrtue  ;  but  Instruction  only  makes  them  wise:  Wisedome 
cannot  be  gotten  without  paine,  she  cannot  be  sold,  or  if  she 
could,  it  is  ten  to  one,  this  sort  of  Nobilitie  would  neuer  buy 
her,  there  are  so  many  follies  to  step  betwixt  her  and  them, 
which  are  both  cheape,  and  euer  ready  to  pull  downe  the 
market. 

"  Lastly,  and  for  a  Conclusion  of  this  small  Treatise,  say  to 
him  whatsoeuer  hee  be-,  that  shall  taxe  me  of  bitternesse,  or 
thinke  I  have  gone  beyond  the  bounds  of  good  manners  in 
seeking  to  aduise  them,  who  are  aboue  the  rule  of  my  know- 
ledge, and  that  whatsoeuer  is  aboue  une  doth  nothing  belong 
vnto  me,  tell  them  i  hey  are  mistaken  :  Bid  them  call  to  minde, 
that  the  Tree  which  grew  from  Romulus'  Jaueling  (when  he 
threw  it  into  the  ground)  was  walled  about  by  the  Romans, 
and  kept  so  carefully,  that  if  any  man  (of  what  degree  soeuer) 
saw  the  leaues  begin  to  wither,  he  presently  gaue  the  allarum 
to  the  whole  Citie,  and  cryed  for  water  as  if  all  had  beene  on 
fire  :  In  like  manner  Subjects  haue  cause  to  grieue  and  call 
out,  when  as  those  plants,  from  whence  the  hope  to  gather 
the  strength  of  protection,  the  fruits  of  Justice  and  the  shadow 
of  their  rest,  doe  wither  either  through  the  negligence  of  those 
which  should  prune  and  preserue  them,  or  through  the  want 
of  good  Sap,  which  might  be  infused  into  ihem  by  due  water- 
ing and  manurino-     Finis." 

J.  H. 


«|  Ariosto's  Satyres,  in  seven  Jamovs  discoiases,  shewing 
the  state.  \.  Of  the  Courts  and  Courtiers.  2.0/ 
Lihertie,  and  the  Clergie  in  generall.  3.  Of  the 
Homane  clergie.  4.  Of  Marriage.  5.  Of  Soldiers, 
Musitians,  and  Louers.  6.  Of  Schoohnastrs  and 
Scholers.  7.  Of  Honour,  arid  the  happiest  life.  Jn 
English  by  Gervis  Markham.  London,  rrinled 
hy  ^Nicholas  Okes,  for  Roger  Jackson,  du'elling  in 
Fleet   street,  neere  the  great    Condnit.  1603.  qto. 

pp.  108. 

«f  AriostOi 


394 

5[  Ariostos  seven  Planets  gouerfting  lialie.  Of  his 
Satyrs  in  seven  favious  discourses,  skewing  the  es- 
tate I.  Of  the  Court,  and  Courtiers.  2.  0/  Liberiie 
and  the  Clergy  in  general.  3.  Of  the  Romane 
Clergie.  4.  Of  Marriage.  5.  Of  Soldiers,  Mu- 
sitians,  and  Louers.  6.  Of  Schoolemasters  and 
Schollers.  7.  Of  Honour,  and  the  happiest  life. 
Newly  Corrected  and  Augmented,  with  many  ex- 
cellent  and  note  worthy  notes,  together  with  a  new 
Addition  of  three  most  excellent  Elegies,  written  by 
the  same  Lodovico  Ariosto,  the  effect  whereof  is 
contained  in  the  Argument.  Qui  te  sui  te  sui. 
London,  Printed  by  William  Stansby  for  Roger 
Jackson,  dwelling  in  Fleete  streete  neere  the  Con- 
duit.  1611. 

This  translation  is  claimed  by  Robert  Tofte  in  a 
note  upon  the  Blazon  of  Jealousie,  and  wherein  he 
states  it  to  have  been,  unknown  to  him,  "  set  forth  in 
another  man's  name."  1  here  is  no  difference  in  the 
two  editions  of  the  Satires,  except  in  the  titles.  To 
the  last  are  appended  three  elegies,  with  a  new  pagina- 
tion.    The  following  is  the  address 

"  To  the  Reader. 

♦'  Gentle  Reader,  the  vertuous,  with  their  owne,  hauing 
alwaies  regard  to  another's  good,  do  painfully  bestow  houres, 
dayes,  and  yeares,  to  make  that  easie  to  others,  which  they 
with  grrat  labour  haue  obtained  ;  in  their  places,  vsing  all 
meants,  to  reciaime  all  persons  from  all  manner  vices,  and  to 
furnish  them  with  such  gifts  of  grace,  as  to  make  the  pos- 
siessors  all  ioyntly  happy.  From  the  man  of  experience,  which 
hath  learning  and  wisedome,  thou  raayst  bee  sure  to  receiuc 
good  instruction.  I  know  my  selfe  vnable  to  give  the  Author 
of  this  booke  his  due  commendation:  if  I  were,  and  did,  yet 
should  1  sf erne  to  some  to  flatter  j  to  others,  not  to  haue  said 
enough  :  wherefore  for  thy  contentment,  let  this  suffice  thee  : 
the  Author  had  his  education  with  the  learned,  his  lining 
among  the  greatest  concourse  of  people,  and  his  life  vnre- 
prooujible.  For  his  gifts,  the  world  hath  already  had  sufficient 
experience,  in  that  famous  worke  of  Orlando  Furioso.  Who- 
euer  thou  art,  I  dare  assure  thee,  thou  mayest  in  this  dis- 
course (as  in  a  glasse)  see  thy  present  estate,  and  so  notmisse 
to  iudge  rightly  of  thy  end.  In  reading  thou  shalt  findc  plea- 
sure both  in  the  matter  and  forme,  by  considering  thou  shall 

be 


S95 

be  able  to  instruct  thy  selfe  and  others  j  but  by  practising  as 
thou  ought,  thou  Shalt  finde  setled  happinesse.  Let  the  ex- 
aniple  of  others  be  thy  instruction,  to  flye  that  euill  which 
hath  beene  their  ouerthrow,  and  to  embrace  that  goad  which 
was  their  aduancement.  Be  thankfull  first  to  God,  then  to  the 
Author,  and  lastly  to  thy  Country-man,  who  for  thy  sake 
without  any  other  recompence,  hath  taken  the  paines  in  most 
exquisite  manner,  to  bee  thy  interpreter.  Vale." 

Then  "  the  argument  of  the  whole  worke,  and  the- 
reasons  why  Lodouico  Ariosto  writ  these  Seauen 
Satyies."  Some  tales  are  introduced  in  the  Satires  as 
the  well  known  one  of  Hans  Carvels  ring  io  the  fifth 
Satire.     The  following  is  from  the  third. 

*'  William  surnamed  Rufus,  when  in  hand, 
He  swaid  the  english  scepter  at  command. 
It  chaii't  a  wealthy  Abby  voide  did  fall, 
Whose  great  demeanes  being  rich  in  general!. 
Many  came  to  the  king  the  same  to  buy, 
(For  he  did  money  loue  exceedingly.) 
Now  when  Church-chapmen  all  were  com'd  vnto  l)im» 
And  with  their  vtmcst  summes  did  amply  woo  hiai. 
He  spide  a  Monke  stood  halfe  behinde  the  dore. 
Whom  straight  he  cald,  and  bade  him  come  before  : 
Imagining  he  came  as  did  ihe  rest, 
With  full  filde  bagges,  to  make  his  offer  best : 
And  therefore  thus  the  King  most  graciously 
Spcakes  to  the  Monke  :  "  Tell  me  man  wiUingly, 
What  thou  wilt  giue  ;  great  the  revennues  are. 
And  thou  free  leaue  to  offer  for  thy  share." 
"  My  gracious  Lord  (the  old  man  did  reply) 
I  came  not  hither  this  rich  place  to  buy: 
For  I  am  poore :  or  had  I  wealth  at  will, 
I  would  not  load  ray  conscience  with  such  ill. 
As  to  ingiosse  Church-liuings  aboue  other, 
Making  me  rich  by  robbing  of  my  brother. 
Besides  I  were  an  asse  to  vndertake. 
To  lav  too  great  a  burthen  on  my  backe  : 
Which  to  support  I  know  I  am  vnfir. 
Both  for  my  learning,  industry  and  wit. 
Onely  I  hither  came  in  humble  wise, 
To  beg  ot  him  which  to  this  place  should  rise. 
That  I  this  petty  fauour  might  but  haue, 
To  be  his  priest,  his  Beadse-man  or  his  slaue." 
The  King  who  heard  this  olde  man  gratiously. 
And  finding  in  him  true  humility. 

Whence 


396 

Whence  bis  rare  vertnes  sprang  so  curiously. 
That  they  exceld  his  ranke  in  dignity  : 
Freely  and  franckly  without  recompcnce, 
Gaue  him  this  Abbey  and  dispatcht  him  thence. 


J.  H, 


To  Correspo7idents, 

We  feel  particularly  indebted  to  the  Gentleman  who  fur- 
nished several  volumes  for  inspection,  through  the  medium  of 
Mr.  Triphook.  The  not  giving  excerpts  from  his  interesting 
Collection  of  Manuscript  Poems,  has  arisen  from  not  being 
able  to  appropriate  so  large  a  space  as  the  nature  of  the  Col- 
lection was  entitled  to. 

An  intelligent  friend  suggests,  that  at  p.  103,  1.  5,  for 
bowgyt  we  should  read  bowgty,  i.e.  booty j  and  at  p.  ilj, 
1.  6  from  the  bottom,  thoil  means  toil. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Acheley,  T.  author  of  verses,  i 
Alcida,  Greene's  Metainorphusis,  379 
Amadis  of  Greece,   157 
Angler,  a  limb  of  an  upright  man,  293 
Anglo  Saxon     poem    on   the   Battle   of 

Finsboroiigh,  261 
Anonymous  verses  from  Bannatyne  MS. 

186,  190,  191 
Answer  to  Lincolnshire  rebels,  281 
ApoUoniui  Tyrius,   105 
Archery,  Ded  cation  to  first  edit,  of  Toxo- 

philus,  206 
Aiiitophanes,  a  character,  234 
Ariosto's  Satires,  by  R.  Tofs.  393 
Arthur  of  Brytayn,  228  ;  various  edition, 
of,   229 — 30;  extracts  from,  231 — 3, 
Artists  temp,  of  Charlcs,euumeiated,227 
Ascham,    Roger,    Fir^t    edition     of   his 

Toxophilus,  206  j  dedication,  ib. 
Astiea,  Ode  by  Sylvester,  221 
fkibylon,  a  poem  from  Du  Bartus,  382 
Bacon,  Sir  Nich.  dcdicdti  jn  to,  59 
Bannatyne  Mjnuscri|it,  183 
Banquet  on  baptism  or  P.  Heniy,  315 
Barrisi's,  W,  triumph  of  Mars,  359 
Baraers,  Boucher  Lord,  romance  of  .Ar- 
thur of  Brytayn, 228,  Piologueto,  231 
Bartholomeus    de    proprietatibus    rerum, 

MS.  107 
Batman's,   Stephen,    Golden    book    of 
Leaden  Gods,  40  ;  addiess  before  Bar- 
tholomeus,  110 
Bion,  description  of,  26 
kciutics  of  Great  Britain,  address  to,  159 
Belman  of  London,  by  D-cker,  293 
Berkley,  the  Lords,  patrons  of  1  revisa, 

T08 — 10 
Bernardino's  tale,  by  R.  Gireene,  164 
B.bliographia  Scotica,  by  Ritson,  301 
Blunt,  Ni  an  upright  man,  252 
Bodleian  MSS.    of  Dr.  Rawlinson,  73 
Book  of  St.  Albans,  1 1  2 — 13 
Borde,  Andrew,   195    some  account  of, 

30  }  his  portrait  of  no  authority  j  21 
Breton's  N.  poem  upon  the  longing  of  a 

blessed  heart,  356 
Buc,  Sir  Geo.  eclogue  by,  365 
Burke's,  G.  verses  before  Watson's  Son- 
nets, I 
Buckingham,  D,  of,  dedication  to,  168 
Caledonian  Muse,  302 
Capgiave's  lives  of  the  Saints,  3  C4 
Carey,  Lord  Henry,  dedication  to,  40 
Catey,  Robert,  dedication  to,  160 
Caimichaell,  W.  verses  by,  i  S4 
Catalogue  of  early  Scottish  poets,  300 
Catherine,  Q^  &  Hen.  VllL,   metrical 
description  of  what  passed  at  Oxford 
on  their  divorce,  »oi— 5 
V»t.   IV. 


Caveat  for  common  Cursetors,  291 

Caxtcn's  edition  of  Lord  Rivers's  Dictel 
and  Sayi.  gs,  237  ;  Caco  Magnus,  323 

CecJll,  Sir  William,  dedication  to,   141 

Censure  of  a  loyal  Subject,  by  G.  Whet- 
stone, 140 

Chapman,  George,  anther  of  funeral  «ong 
on  P.  Hfenry,  36 

Charles,  prince,  intiint  of  Alliiofi,  dedica- 
tion to,  30 

Chaunt  of  R.  Sheale,  the  minstrel,  ico  } 
his  farewell,  105 

Chess,  149 

Chevy  Chase,  author  of  ascertained,  97 

Christian  prayers,  printed  by  Jjhn  Day, 
209 

Cironiclcs  of  England,  a  metrical  one 
described,  76 — 80  j  prjr,  ed  by  \V.  de 
Wo  d,  1528,  descrii.ed,  no — 14 

Chrjnicle  of  John  i^arding,  132 

Churchyard's,  T.  Fortunate  Farewell,34^ 

Churchyard  s,  Thortias,  pleasant  conc«it 
liCnned  in  verse,  259 

Cleges,  Sir,  MS.  poem,  17 

Cocks  and  Cock-fighting,  318       ' 

Colbsand's  battle  with  Guy  of  Wjr^vicJc, 
269 

Commendation  of  Cock-fighting,  318 

Cantemplation  ol"  Sinners,  219 

Coppin,  family  of,  possessors  of  Wootlon, 
62 

Cotton,  Charles,  verses  by,  137 

Country  life,  Ode,  146 

Cypress  garland,  by  Hujh  Hollaud,  168 

Dan  Hew,  of  Lincoln,  179 

AAONIS  nOAY2;TE<l)ANOr,  by  Sir 
Geo.  Buc,  365 

Davenant's  Entertainment  at  Rutland 
House,  234 

Declaration  against  the  Scots,  285 

Dedication  to  those  that  lack  money,  32I 

Deckar's  Strange  Hoise-Race,  340 

Denne,  W.  author  of  a  Mask,  344 

Daring's  Works,  371  ;  preface  thereto, 
curious,  ib. 

Derby,  Countess  of,  an  epilogue  upon  het 
death,   9S 

Dice-])lay,  149 

Dictcs  and  sayings,  237 

Diiiges,  Leonard,  author  of  Treatise  upott 
the  Science  of  Numbers,  52 

Digges,  Sir  Dudley,  account  of,  60 

1 -,   D'idley,   a   great  scholar,  6t  ; 

list  of  celebrated  names  in  the  family,  63 

,  Thomas,  enlarged     the  treatise 

upon   numbers,  52;   author  of  Panto- 
metria,  52  ;   account  of,  53 ;   epitaph, 
54 }  dedications  to,  and  extractt  from, 
his  treatises,  $7 — ^O 
s  X  Slogenesj 


398 


INDEX. 


Diogenes,  a  character,  234 
Dives  et  pauper,  printed  by  Pynson,  129 
Divine  poem's,  by  Washbourne,  45 
Dorreil,  Hadrian,  edited  Willobre*s  Avha, 

244  ;  preface  to   same,  244—7 
Downhalus,   C.    wrote  ^n   ode    to     the 

Muses,   I 
Drama,   Heywood's   play   ot   Johan    the 

husband,    &c.    118 — zz}    Hippolitus, 

from  Seneca  by  Prestwjch,  1 22  ;  Gen- 
'  tleness  and  nobility,  270  ;  unlawfulness' 

of  plays,  22j;  Shepherd  Holiday,  341 
Drant's,  Thomas,  sermons,  173 
Drummood,  Margaret,  anonymous  verses 

probably  addressed  to,  186 
Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester,  dedications  to, 

55.338 
Dumb  Lover,  poem,  125 
Diiiibar,  W.  verses  by,   192 
Durer's,  Al'jert,  designs  copied  for  Chris- 
tian prayers,  by  Day,  209 
Dwarf,  gift  to  Hudson  the,  278 
£cho,  verses  replying  by,  9  ;  vipon,  z6z 
Edcgue,  by  Sir  Geo.  Buc,  365 
Ekatom7ra9ia,  or  passionate  Centuric  of 

Love,  by  T.  AVatson,  I 
Elyot,  K.n jght.  Sir  Thomas,   sermon   on 

the  Mortality  of  man,  149 
Elizabeth,   princess,   infant   of    Albion, 

dedication  to,  30 
Elizabeth,  0^38^3  ;  mercy  to  theScotish 

Queen,   141 
England,  .Chronicles  of,   76 — 80,110— 

14,  132 
Ephe;ncndes  of  Phialo,  by  S.  Gosson,2  89 
Epigrams  by  S.  Kendall,  154 — 7 
Ep.taph  on  Sir  T.  Wyatt,  316 
Essex,  Earl  of,  poem  to,  545 
Evans,  W.  the  great  porter,  address  tn,279 
ExctlLnt  poem  UyN.  Breton,  356 
Farewell  to  fully,  by  Greene,  159 
— — —  to  the  Muse,  31 1 

Farewell  of  the  Minstrels,  T03 

Falkland,  Lord,  fugitive  poetry  by,  66 
——————,    verses  on   Henry    Lord 

Hastings,  135 
Fcnner,  Dudley,  upen  recreations,  224 
Field  pastimes,  313  — 14 
Finsbort-ugh,  Battle  of,  an  Anglo-Saxon 
poem,  261  ;  tranrlated  into  Latin,  263 
Finsburg,  fight  of,  poertn  fmm  the  Anglo- 
Saxon,  zSS 
Fleckiioe's,  R.  travels,  143 
Flora,  description  of,  44 
Flowers  of  Epigrams,  by  T.  Kendall,  150 
Foricst's,  W.  poem  upon  Htn.  VHl.  ;ind 

Q.  Catherine,  200 
Foi  ttinate  Farewell,  by  Churchyard,  345 
Fragments  of  a  romance  upon  Guy,  Earl 

of  Warwick,  268 
Fitce's,  VV.  Goodly  Gallery,  384 


I  Fusty  bandyas,  term  of  merritnent,  90 
Gain  in  Loss  poem  by  Prestwich,  123 
Gascony  dtscrifaed,  26 
Genings,  N.  a  cotmnterfiet  crank,  2^2 
Genius,  as  anciently  represented,  44 
Gvrraan  Giant  desirribed,  276 
Gentleness  and  nobilhy,  by  John  Hey- 

wood,  270  » 

Giant,  address  of  one,  276 
Glanvillc  Bartholomew,  106  ;  verses  by, 

108 
God's  omnipotcncy,  verses  upon,  297 
Goodly  Gallery  of  pleasant  prospects,  by 

W.  Fulce,   384 
Golden  Book  of  the  Leaden  Gods,  40 
Gor;i%s,  Sir  Arthur,  vttses  by,  136 
Gos'Oi)'s,Siephen,EphcmeridesofPbialo> 


289 

Grafton,  W.  owner  of  Oar  Lady,  50 
Graphice,  by  W.  San;iersoii,  220 
Great  firitaiii's  Mourning  Garment,   37 
Greene's,  Robert,  pair  of  Turtle  Doves, 

210  j  extracis  from,  211—19 
.    .  .. ,  Farewel  to  folly,  159'; 

address  to  the  Universities,    i6i 

Planetomachi;!,  33S 


Alcida,  5795    dedication,  ib. ;    the  au- 
thor's  charjctrr  lately  reconsidexxxl,  381 
Grisildy,  Q_^Katherine,  203 
Guy,  E.  of  Warwick,  268 
Harding,  J.  Chronicle  by,  232 
Harman's,  T,  Caveat  for  Cuisitors,  292 
Hawks,  from  Norway,  in  estimation,  a6 
Heneage,  Sir  T.  dedication  to,    173 
Henry,  Prince  of  Scotland^  his  baptism, 

?«3 

'    '    -v  Elegy  upon, 
30 ;    an    Epicede,    or  Funeral    Sotig 
upon,  3/? ;  Madrigal  upon,  49 
■  the  VIIL  Dedication  to,  206 

dedication  to. 


2,2  ;   and  Q^  Catherine,  what  passed 
at  Oxford  on  their  divcrrce,  200 
Heywood's,  John,  play  of  Jbhan  the  hus- 
band, &c.  118 — zi 

•  Gentilness     and    no- 


bility, 270 
Higgons,  Sir  Thomas,  lines  by,   136 
Hippolitus,  by  Prestwich,   122 
Holland,  Hugh,  7,6;    notices  of  himself 

and    family,  i68  ;    his  Cypi-ess   Gap^ 

land,  ib. 
Holbein,  Hans,  his  book  of  crayons,  228 
Honour  in  perfect/on,  by  G.  M.   390 
Hudson's  JefiEfery,  New  Ycare's  Gift  278 
Huggarde's,  Miles,  pathway  to  the  tow«r 

of  perfifcrion,   67 
Hume's,   Alex,  szcred  songs,  294 
Hunt.ngdon's,  Countess,  Ejiitnph,  66 
Hymns,  by  A.  Hum*-,  294 
liypnerotoinachla,  translation  ofj  285 

JoHn, 


INDEX. 


399 


John,   K..    of   France,    opinion  of  the 

English  council,  172 
Ignis  fatuus,  a  light  explained,  385 
Irish-man,  description  of,  28 
Italian  Tailor  and  his  boy,  talcen  from 

Straparola,    180 
Jews,  singular  character  of,  283 
Johnson's,  R«  remembrance.  Sec.  of  Ro- 
bert E.  of  Salisbury,  208 
Jupiter,  his  attnlsutei,  42 
Kemp,  Lady,  dedication  to,  341 
Kendal's,    Timothy,    Flowers    of   Epi- 
grams, 1 50;  specimens,   152 — 7 
King   and  the  Hermit,    a  metrical  ro- 
mance, 8  I 
King  Lear,  of  the  original  story,  ic6 
Knight,  character  Ota,  271 
Knowledge, A.  Horde's. Introduction  to.ig 
Lachryma  Musarum,  by  R-  B.  described, 

134— S  _  ! 

l^amentation  upon  rebellion,  284 
Lay  of  Dame  Sirith,   19} 
Leaden  Gods,  golden  book  »f,  40 
Lee    Priory,    elegant  specimens  of  the 

press  there,  noticed,  381 
L^cester,  Dudley  Earl  of,  dedication  to 

150 
Lincolnshire  traitors  answered,  281 
Lisle,  W.  translator  of  Babylon,  382 
London,  descrilsed,  23S;  full  of  taverns, 

283  ;  Bellman  of,  29  J 
Longlar.d,  John,  bishop  of  Lincoln,  201 
Lupton's,  l"homas,  Sivqila,  148 
Mars,  his  triumph,   359 
Markbam,  Gervaise,  391 — 395 
Mary,  (i.  of  Scots,  her  conspiracies,.  145 
Mahland,  Sir  Richard,  poem?  by,  114- — 

18 
Matravers,  Lord,  dedication  to,  3  78 
Maxwell,  James,  verses  on  Prince  Henry, 

May-games  in  Oxfordshire,  335 
Merchant,  his  character,  271 
Merchant  Taylor's  Hall, a  triumph  there-, 

^59        ,.     . 
Mercury,  his  character,  43 

Meres,  F.  2. 

Ivlery  piay  of  Johan  the  husband,  Ac.  118- 
Metrical  romance,  fragment  of,  81 
Minimus,  Lord,  called  Little  JefTery,  his 

New  year's  gift,  278 
Ministielsy,  Essay  upon,  177 
Mpney,  Search  for,  320 
Moral  characters  in  a  ^ask,  342 
Morley's  Henry  Lord,  address  to  his  pos- 
terity, 107 
Morning,  description  of,  287 
Morris  dancers,  ancient,  327;   tnodern, 

3}5  ;  speech  in  rhyme  by,  33} 
Mysterious  Mother,  note  upon  the  story 

of,  182  j  oiigin  of  the  plot,  367 
Mythoniystes,  or  survey  of  true  poetry, 
■   37« 


Narcissus  and  Echo,  their  talc,  378 

Navarre's,  Q.  of,  "Tales,  366 

Nicholas,   Friar,  201 

Norway,  Burdens,  de;>criptlon  of,  26 

Noya  legenda  an^lie,  354 

Newcastle,    Marquis  or,    dedication  ani 

veises  ro,  143 
Newton,  Thomas,  41 
New  year's  .uldicsi,  by  Churehytrd,  2S9 
Odes  on  it  Country  Life,  146  ;  uoon  As- 

trea,  2JI 
O^le,  George,  translator  of  the  Basi  1,  9^ 
Old  M  .drlgals,  46,  386 
Old  Meg  of  Herefordshire,  320 
Orfora'f,   Lord,  plot  of  the  Mysterious 
Mother,  where  obtained  from,  367 

Our  Lady's  return  to  Engiaiic',.  50 

Pag.  t,  |Cnt.  Sir  WilL  207 

Pa;nassu5  Biceps,  by  A.Wright,  357 

Parvula's,  Lady,  gift  to  the  dwarf,  278- 

Palace  of  Pleasure,  182 

Pathway  to  the  tower  of  perfection,  ac- 
count pf,.67r— 73 

Peele,  G.  2 

Petrarch'^  sonnets,tfanslated  byWatson,(S: 

Philosopher,  his  address,  274 

Philosopher's  Game,  author  of,  385 

Philosophy,  Hist,  of,  by  J.  Stanley,  360 

Pipers  censured,  290 

Planetomachia,  by  R.  Greene,  338 

Players  of  Enterludes  wore  long  cloaks,  27 
dangerous  people,  290 


Ploughman  superior  to  either  Merchant  ob 

Knight,  272 
Poes>,  nature  and  value  of  surveyed,  379^ 
Poets  attacked  by  Gosson,  7j)o 
Polichronicon,  by  W.  de  Worde,  348 

— — — ,  by  P  Treveris,  349/ 

Prohemy  to,  35 


Pope's  apparel  domestical,  45 
Poverty,  holy,   129! — 30 
t'rayer  to  our  Saviour,  in  verse,  139 
Prestwich,     Edmund,     account    of    his 

poems,  122—9 
Price,    Daniel,    Seimons    upon    Prince 

Henry  33. 
Prohemy,  by  Caxton,   3^0 
Prologues,    spoken    by   persons  in   long 

cloaks,   27 
Prymer  of  Salisbury,  by  Copland,  138 
Rawlinson's.Dr  MSS.  in  the  Bodleian,?  j 
Rebellion,  lamentauon  of,  285 
Redshanks  in  Ireland,  29 
Remedy  for  Sedition,  282 
R.  H.  Author  of  our  Lady's  Return   to 

England,  ]Jo 
Report  of  the  baptism  of  P.  Frederick 

Heniy,  313 
Revlis  and  Cavttlis  of  Scottish  Pocsie, 

308 
Ritson's  Bibliographia  Scotica,  301;  Ca- 
ledonian Mu?e,  302 
Rivcrs's,  Lord,. D.'ctM  and  Saying^*,  2j7 
Romance 


400 


INDEX. 


Romance  and  Minstrelsy,  an  Essay,  177 
Romance*  anJ  legendary  tales  and  ballads, 

condemned,  372 
Romanists,  attacked,  174 
Rosemaiy  lane,  322 
Rowley's,  W.  Search  for  Money,  320 
Roydon,  M.  author  of  verses,  2 
Russell,  Knt.   Sir  Will,  dedication    to, 

170 
Rutland  House,  Davcnant's  entertainment 

at,   234 
St.  Albans,  Ch-onicle  of,   112 — ^13 
Saint   George,    address    to    the    soldiers 

armed  under  the  ensign  of,  171 
St.    Mary's    Spittle,    sermons    preached 
■  there,   173 — 176 

Salisbury,  Roberi,  Earl  of,  his  life  writ- 
ten by  R.  Johnson,  208 
Sanderson's  Will,  Graphice,   226 
Search  for  Money,  320 
Seraphine's  sonnet  translated,  8 
Sermon,  by  SirThos.  Eiyot,  149 
Scotland,  Horde's  picture  of,  23 
Scots  poems,  collections  of,  302 
Scott,  Alei.  poem  by,   188 
Scot;ish  poets,  list  of  early,  300 
Scottish  youth,  address  to,  293 
Scylla  and  Carybdis,  a  poem,  46 
Shakespeare's  merit  as  a  sonneteer,  16  } 

Lucreece,  247 
Sheall,  Richard,  author  of  Chevy  Chase, 

97  J    epilogue   upon   the  Countess  of 

Derby,  98 
Shepherd's  Holiday,  a  mask,  341 
Shirley,  James,  Memoir  of,  xi 
SirCIeges,   183 
Sirith,  Dame,  lay  of,   193;    similar  to 

story  related  by  Cuxton,   200 
Sir   Philip  Sidney,  2  86j    dedication  to, 

289 
Sivqila,  too  good  to  be  true,   148 
Skelton,  John,  portrait  of,  389 
Sonnets,  by  A.    Hume,    297 ;    by    K. 

James,  306 
Sonnets,  five,  addressed  to  Wootton,  64 
«  —  best  English  writers  of,   1  7 

Souldier,  reputition  of  a,   170 
Stanley,  Thomas,  the   poet,    360;    his 

works,  ib.  ;  his  pedigree,  361;  errors 

of  former  writers  corrected,  362 
Steevens,  G.  opinion  examined,  2  ;  note 

upon  R.  Greene's  Turtle  doves,  210 
Strange  Horse- Race,  by  Deckar,  340 
Strozza's  verses  translated,   16 
Stryke  partnered  a  term  ot  merriment,  90 


Sylvester's  Joshua,  Miiaclc  of  the  Peace* 

220 
Tarleton,  acock  so  named,  S20 
Ten  yeares  travels  by  R.  Flccknoe,  1 43  J 

the  letters  analysed,   144 — 6 
Thornton,   Mrs.  dedication  to,  341 
Thurlow,  L.  writes  in  the  true  spii  it  of 

Spenser,  ^ 
Toft's,  R.  Satires  from  Ariosto,  393 
Tower  of  pcifection,   67 
Toxophllus,  first  edition  of,  206 
Treatise  of  Recreations,  224 
Trevisa,  John,  note  upon,   lop' 
Trifles,  by  T.  Kendall,   154 
Turtle  Doues,  pair  of,  by  R.    Greene, 

210 
Universities,  address  to,  161 
Van  Dort,  anecdote  of,  226 
V,  T.  Latin  verses  by,   3 1 3 
Vulcan,  his  attributes,  44 
Waldron's  Literary  Museum,   38 
Walker,  Weston,  and  Wilcocks,  a  dia* 

logue,   141     , 
VVallys,  John,  inedited  poem  by,  133 
Walter,  Hen.  VIII.  203 
Walthal,  T.  dedication  to,  340 
Warwick,  Guy,  Earl  of,  fragments  of  a 

romance,  268 
Washbourne's  Thomas,  divine  poenis,45 
Watson's  collection  of  Scots  poems  902 
Thomas,  Centurie  of  Love,  1  } 


Essay  upon  his  Sonnets,  2  j  Specimen 
of  his  Sonnets,  5 

Weber's,  Mr.  Metikal  romance  of  Sir 
Cleges,  completed,   17 

Westmoreland,  Earl  of,  lines  by,  18? 

Whetstone's  George,  censure  of  a  loyal 
subject,  140  ;  reputation  of  a  soldier, 
170  ;  verses  by,   171 

Willobie,  Henry,  the  poet,  somC  alccount 
of,  241;  his  Avisa,  244}  author's 
passion  for  Avisa,    2<3 

Wimbleton,»Cecill,  Viscount,  his  edi- 
fice,   227 

Wolsey,  Cardinall,  a  favourable  charac- 
ter of,    283 

Wootton,  five  Sonnets  addressed  to,  as 
the  spot  of  the  Author's  nativity,  64 

Worde's,  W.  de,  edition  of  the  Chroni- 
cles of'  England,   1 10 — 14 

Wright's,  A.  Parnassus  Biceps,  357 

WyuJ,  Sir  Thomas,  Epitaph  on,  310 

Wynkyn  de  Worde,  219 

Yonge's,  N.  Muaica  Transalplna,  jii 


Portrait  of  James  Shirley,  xi 
—^ John  Skdten,  38^ 

FINIS, 


T .  Bciulcy,  Printer, 
Mt-<Mir(,  f  Irn.uict,  Landra. 


Hi}/     :i  H  T 


mA 

>  -   trr 

...     i 


{^ 


tout  am  liue. 


TO     THE     NOBILI- 

TY  AND  ALL  OTHER  IN 

OFFICE,  GOD  GRAUNTTHE  IN. 

crease  of  wisedome,  with  all  thinges  neces- 
sary for  preseruation  of  theyr  estates. 
Amen, 

Amongste  the  wise  (right  Honorable)  whose  sentences  (for 
the  moste  parte)  tende  either  to  teache  the  atta3'ning  of  vertue 
or  eschuing  of  vice,  Plotinus  that  wonderfull  and  excellent  Pbtinta. 
Philosopher    hath  these  wordes:    The  property  of  Teraper- 
aunce  is  to  couet  nothing  which  may  be  repented :  not  to 
excede  the  bands  of  measure,  &  to  kepe  Desire  vnder  the 
yoke  of  Reason.     Whiche  saying  if  it  were  so  well  knowen, 
as  it  is  nedefull;    so  well  embraced,  as  is*   wished;  or  so 
surely  fixed   in  minde,  as  it  is  printed  in  his  workes :  then 
certis  many  Christians  might  by  the  instruction  of  an  Ethnicke 
Philosopher,  shun   great    and   daungerous   perils.     For    to 
couet  without  consideration,  to  passe  the  measure  of  his  degree, 
^»  and    to    let  will    run   at  randon,  is  the  only  destruction  of 
all  estates.      Else  howe  were  it  possible,  so  many  learned, 
polliticke,  wise,  renoumed,  valiaunt,  and  victorious  personages, 
might  euer  haue  come  to  such  vtter  decay  ?  For  example,  wee 
liaue*  Alexander  the  Great,  Ccesar,  Pompei/y  Cyrus ,  Hannibal^  Quintus 
&c.    All  which  (by  desier  of  glorye)  felte  the  reward  of  theire  ^"'■^"«« 
immoderate  and  insatiable  lustes :  for  if  Alexander  had  beene 
content  with  Macedonie,  or  not  beene  pufte  vp  with  pride  after 
his  triuraphes,  hee  had  neuer  beene  so  miserably  poysoned.     If 
Ccc^ar  and  Pompey  had  beene  satisfied  with  theire  victories,  and 

*  Hce.  edit.  1575.  *  VVill  you  that  I  rehearse,  ib. 

B  2 


4  The  Epistle  Dedicatorie, 

had  not  fell  to  ciuill  discention,  the  one  had  not  beene  slaine 
in  the  senate  with  daggers,  nor  the  other  abroade,  by  their 
Jusiinus  frendes  procurement.     If  Ct/rus  had  beene  pleased  with  all 
hb.  1.       Persia,  and  Media,  and  not  thirsted  for  bloud,  hee  had  neuer 
Plutar-    com  to  so  infortunate  a  fall.     So  if  Hanniball  had  not  so  much 
Y"."'.'        delited  in  gloryc  of  warfare,  his  coGtrey  had  ncyther  fell  in 
Folibius.  ruine,  nor  hee  bene  miserably  forced  to  poyson  himselfe.     But 
you  will  say,  desire  of  fame,  glorye,  renovvne,  and  immortalitie 
(to  which  all  men  well  nighe  by*  nature  are  inclined,  especially 
those  which  excell  or  haue  any  singuler  gift  of  fortune  or  *  the 
body)  moued  them  to  such  daungerous,  great,  and  hardy  enter- 
prises, which  mustneedes  be  confessed '  as  an  infallible  veritie : 
and  therefore  I  suerly  ^  deeme  those  Princes  aboue  specified 
(cosidering  their  '  fortunes,  fame,  and  exploytes)   had  neuer 
come  to  sucheende,  but  for  wante  of  temperance.     And  now* 
sithe  there  are  three  other  Cardinall  vertues  which  are  requi- 
site in  him  that  should  bee  in  authoritye :  that  is  to  saye,  Pru- 
dence, Instice,  and  Fortitude,  which  so  wonderfully  adorne  and 
beautifie  all  estates  (If  Temperaunce  bee  with  them  adioyned, 
that  they  moue  the  very  enemies  with  admiration  to  prayse  them) 
some  peraduenture  (as  affection  leades)  will  commende  one, 
Arist.      some  another:  as '  ^m^o^/e  the  Prince  of  Philosophers   names 
Cicero.     Prudence,  the  mother  of  vertues,  but'   CVcero  defines  her  the 
'knowledge  of  things  which  ought  to  bee  desired  and  followed, 
and  also  of  them  wbich  ought  to  bee  fled  and  eschewed  ;  yet 
you  shall  finde  that  for  want  of  Temperaunce,  some  which 
Were  coiited  very  wise*  fell   into   wonderfull    reproche  and 
infamy.     But*  I ustice  that  incomparable  vertue,  (as  the  aun- 
cient  Ciuilians  define  her)  is  *  a  perpetuall  and  constant  will 

3  Of.  ib.  ♦  Of.  ib.  *  Which  must  I  needs  be  confesse.  ib. 

*  Veritie ;  [but  for  so  much  as  the  above  named  virtue  by  Plotinus  his 
iudgemcnt  hath  such  excellent  properties  it  is  so  fit  in  a  Magistrate,  that]  I 
surely  &c.  ib. 

7  Facts  estates  fortunes,  ib.  •  Yet.  ib.  '  Yea  and  though,  ib. 

*  And.  ib. 

*  Those  whiche  vrere  counted  the  wisest  that  ever  were,  ibi 
'  Y«a  and  thougii.  ib.  ♦  Be.  ib. 


The  Epistle  Dedkatorie,  5 

which  giiieth  to  euery  man  his  right,  yet  if  shee  lye  not  constant, 
which  is  the  gifte  of  Fortitude ;  nor  equal  in  discerning  right 
from  wrong,  wherein  is  Prudence ;  nor  vse  proportion  in  iudge- 
meiit  and  sentence,  which  pertayneth  to  Teraperaunce  :  shea 
can  neuer  bee  called  equitie  or  iustice,  but  fraude,  deceite, 
iniustice  and  iniurie.  And,  to  speake  of  Fortitude,  v/hich  Forti- 
Cicero  defineth,  a  cosyderate  vndertaking  of  perills,  and  en-  ['t^^' 
during  of  labours ;  if  he  whome  wee  suppose  stoute,  valiaunt, 
and  of  good  courage,  want  Prudence,  Iustice,  or  Terai)er- 
auncc,  he  is  not  couted  wise,  righteous  and  constant,  but 
sottish,  rude  and  desperate.  For  Teraperaunce  (sayth  Cicero)  is  Cicero. 
of  reason*'  in  lust  and  other  euel  assaultes  of  the  minde,  a  suer  ^ewper- 
and  moderate  dominion  &  rule.  This  noble  vertue  is  deuided 
into  three  ^  partes,  that  is  Cotinency,  Clemencie,  and  Mo- 
destye,  wliich  welP  obserued  and  kept  (if  grace  bee  to  them 
adioyned)  it  is  impossible  for  him  that  is  endued  with  the 
aboue  named  vertues  euer  to  fall  into  the  infortunate  snares  of 
calamity,  or  misfortune.  But  Ambition  which  is  immoderate' 
desire  of  honour,  rule,  dominion,  and  superioritie,  (the  very 
distruction  of  nobility  and  common  weales,  as  among  the  Ro- 
manes j  Sylla,  Marius,  Carbo,  Cinna,  Cateline,  Pompey,  and 
Cjesar,  are  witnesses)  hath  brought  great  decay  to^  our  cotrey, 
and  countreymen.  Which  Master  Baldwin  hath  so  touched  • 
in  his  Epistle  of  the  laste  *  volume  of  this  booke,  that  I  nede 
not  therewith  deale  any  further. '  I  haue  here  (right  honor- 
able) in  this  booke  4  only  reproued  foly  in  those  which  are 
heedelesse:    Iniurie    in  extortioners,    rashnes    in    venterers, 

'  He  is  not  counted  boldc,  manly  and  constant  but  made  beastly  and 
desperate.  1  will  also  ?illi  I  haue  gone  ss  farj-e  with  the  vertues  (and  the 
place  so  vrgelh)  lastly  set  downe  the  difinition  of  Temperaunce,  according 
to  Cicero  his  opinion.     Tctnpei-iuiice  <saith  he)  is  of  reason,  &c.  ib. 

^  Vertue  hath  three,  ib.  ^  Well  and  wisely. 

»  An  immoderate,  ib.  '  Also  to.  ib.  '  Learnedly  touched,  ib. 

»  Other,  ib. 

^  Further.  [Onely  I  would  to  God  it  were  so  ofte  read  and  regarded 
«f  all  Magistrates  as  the  matter  requireth.]  ib. 

*  R»oke  (which  I  »m  so  bold  lo  dedieate  to  your  honors,)  ib. 


6  The  Epistle  Dedicatorie. 

[trccherie  in  traytours,  riote  in  rebelles,]  ^  and  excesse  in 
such  as  suppressc  not  vnruly  affections.  Now''  1  truste  you 
will  so  thinkc  of  it  (althoughe  the  (^tyle  deserue  not  like  com- 
mendation) as  you  thought  of  the  other  parte.  Which  if  you 
shall,  1  doubt  not  but  it  may  pleasure  some;  if  not,  yet  geue 
occasio  (o  others  which  ca  do  better,  either  to  amend  these,  or 
to  publish  their  owne.'  And  thus  wishing  you  Prudence 
to  discerne  what  is  meete  for  your  callings,  lustice  in  the 
administration  of  your  functions,  Fortitude  in  the  defence  of 
your  Countrey,  and  Temperaunce  in  moderation  of  all  your 
affections,  with  increase  of  honours,  and  euerlasting  felicity  : 
I  bid  you  in  Christ  lesu  farewell.^  At  Winceham  the  vii. 
day  of  December. 

1386. 

Your  most  bumble  in 
the  Lord, 

loilN  HlGINS.* 

^  Not  in  first  edit,  ^  And.  ib. 

'  Can  do  farre  better,  either  witli  eloquence  to  amend  that  is  amisse  ia 
mine,  or  else  when  they  see  these  so  rudely  pcude,  to  publish  their  own.  ib. 
*  Your  humble  lohn  Higgias.  [ed.  1575.J 
^  Frotn  cdiliun,  ISOf. 


5/»  v::  n'  '>n' 


"  I.  HIGGINS  TO 

THE   READER. 

*<  Amongst  diuers  and  sondry  chronicles  of  many  nations, 

1  thinke  there  are  none  (gentle  reader)  so  vncertaine  and  brief 

in  the  beginning  as  ours :  at  which  I  cannot  but  maruayle, 

sith  at  all  tynies  our  Ilande  had  as  learned  wryters  (some  sin- 

guler  men  excepted)  as  any  nation  vnder  the  sunne.     Againe, 

those  which  now  are  our  best  chroniclers  as  they  report, 

haue  great  antiquities ;  but  what  they  publish  of  late  yeares 

may   be   enlarged  in    many  places  by  chronicles  of  other 

nacions :  whereby  it  is  manifest  they  are  either  ignoraunt  of 

the  togues,  or  els  not  giuen  to  the  stndie  of  that,  which  they 

most  professe.     For  if  they  were,  me-thinkes  it  were  easie  for 

them,  with  such  antiquities  as  they  brag  they  haue,  to  fetche 

our  histories  from  the  beginning ;  and  make  them  as  ample, 

as  the  chronicles  of  any  other  country  or  nation.     But  they 

are  faine,  in  steede  of  other  stufte,  to  talk  of  the  Remains, 

Greekes,   Persians,  &c.   and  to  fill  our  histories   with  their 

facts  and  fables.     This  1   speake  not  to  the  end  I  wold  have 

ours  quite  seperate  from  other,  without  any  mention  of  them ; 

but  I  would  haue  them  there  only  named,  where  th'  afFayres 

of  both  countries,  by  warre,  peace,  truce,  mariage,  trafique, 

or  some  necessary   cause  or  other,  is  intermixed.     I  haue 

seen  no  auncient  antiquities  in  written  hand  but  two :  one  was 

Galfridus  of  Munmouth,  which   I  lost  by  misfortune;    the 

other,  an  old  chronicle  in  a  kind  of  Englishe  verse,  beginning 

at    Brute   and   ending  at  the  death  of  Humfrey    Duke   of 

Gloucester;  in  the  which,  and  diuers  other  good  chronicles, 

1  findemany  thinges  not  mentioned  in  that  great  tome  engroced 


of  late  by  Maister  Grafton ;  and  that,  where  he  is  most 
barraine  and  wantes  matter.  But  as  the  greatest  heades,  the 
grayest  hayrcs,  and  best  clarkes,  haue  not  most  wytte  ;  so  the 
greatest  bookes,  titles,  and  tomes,  contayne  not  most  matter.X 
And  this  haue  I  spoken,  because  in  wryting  the  Tragedies 
of  the  first  infortunate  princes  of  (his  Isle,  I  was  often  fayne 
to  vse  mine  owne  simple  iuuention,  yet  not  swaruing  from  the 
matter  :  because  the  clironicles  (although  they  went  out  vnder 
ciuers  men's  names)  in  some  suche  places  as  I  moste  needed 
theyr  ayde,  wrate  one  thing,  and  that  so  brieflye,  that  a  whole 
prince's  raigne,  life,  and  death,  was  comprysed  in  three 
lines;  yea,  and  sometimes  mine  oldc  booke,aboue  mentioned, 
holpe  mee  out  when  the  rest  forsoke  mee.  As  for  Lanquet, 
Stowe,  and  Grafton,  [they]  were  alwayesnigheofone  opinion  : 
but  the  Floure  of  Histories  somewhat  larger  :  some  helpe  had 
i  of  an  old  chronicle  imprinted  the  yeare  1515.  •  But  surely 
methinkes,  and  so  do  most  which  delite  in  histories,  it  were 
worthely  done,  if  one  chronicle  wer  drawne  from  the  beginning 
in  such  perfect  sort,  that  al  monuments  of  vertuous  men  (to 
the  exalting  of  God's  glory)  and  all  punishments  of  vicious 
persons  <to  the  terrour  of  the  wicked)  might  be  registred  in 
perpetuall  remembraunce.  To  which  thing  the  right  reuerende 
father  in  God  Matthew  [Parker]  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
and  Metropo'litane  of  Englande,  hath  brought  such  ayde,  as 
\vfel  by  printing  as  preseruing  the  written  chronicles  of  this 
realme;  that  by  his  grace's  studie  and  paynes,  the  labour,  in 
fyme  to  come,  wil  be  farre  more  easy  to  them,  that  shall 
take  such  trauayle  in  hand.  But  to  leaue  with  these,  and 
declare  the  <:au6e  of  my  purpose.  As  I  chaunced  to  readc 
the  MiroUr  for  Magistrates^  a  worke  by  all  men  wonderfully 
commended,  and  full  of  fitte  instructions  for  preseruation  of 
cche  estate;  taking  in  hand  the  chronicles  and  minding  to 
conferre  th6  times,  meethoughte  the  lines  of  a  number  euen  at 
the  beginning,  the  like  infortunate  princes  offered  themselues 
vnto  mee  as  matter  very  raeete  for  imitation,  the  iike  admoni. 


tion,    miter,  and    phrase;    and    seing    Bald  wine    by  these 
woordes  moued  mee  somewhat  tliereto;    It  were  (saith  hee) 
a  goodly    and  a  notable  matter    to  searche   and    discourse 
our   whole    storye    from  the   beginning    of  the    inhabiting 
of  this  Isle,  &c.     I  read  the  storyes,  I   considered  of  the 
princes,   I   noted  their  Hues,  and  therewith  conferred  their 
deathes.     On  this,  I  tooke  penne  in  hande,  minding  nothing 
lesse  than  to  publishe  them  abroade,  but  onely  to  trye  what  1 
could  do  if  ncede  were,  or  time  and  leasure  were  giuen  mee  to 
bestowe  in  such  wyse.     1  wrote  the  twoo  first,  euen  as  they 
now  are,  and  because  I  would  not  kepe  secrete  my'first  labours 
in  this  kinde  of  study  (though  I  might  well  haue  blushed  at 
the  basenes  of  my  style)  I  shewed  them  to  a  friend  of  myne, 
desiring  his  vnfayned  iudgement  in  this  matter;  which  when 
he  had  read,  he  neuer  left  intreating  me  to  wryte  other,  til  I 
had  ended  all  to  the  byrth  of  Christ :  and  yet  not  so  content ; 
he  desired  mee  t'  accomplish  the  residue  til  I  came  to  the 
Conquest,    (which    were  wel    nighe  fiftie  Tragedies)  :  but, 
wearied  with  those  which  1  had  written,  1  desired  him  pause 
on  this,  till  tyme  and  leasure  were  giuen  mee.      Yet   hee,- 
making  relation  to  other  his  frendes  what  I  had  done,  left  mee 
not  quiet  till  they  likewyse  had  scene  them :  whose  perswasion, 
as  it  seemed  without  any  suspiticn  of  assentation  or  flattery,  so 
hath  it  made  mee  bolder  at  this  present  then  before.     "  Al- 
though (sayd  they)  your  Tragaedies  be  simple,  and  not  com- 
parable to  those  which  the  other  before  haue  written ;    yet 
when  men  consider  that  many  wrote  those,  but  one  these ;  that 
they  are  graue  writers,  you  are  but  yong  ;  the  perfection  of  those 
stories,  and  the  imperfection  of  these :  finally,  the  good  wil 
you  beare  to  your  country,  the  commendation  of  vertue,  the 
detestation  of  vice,  the  fal  of  ambition,  the  horrible  end  of 
traytours,   harlots,    tyrauntes,  adulterers,    enchaunters,  mur- 
derers, and  such  like;  When  men  (said  they)  co:isider  these 
things,  they  cannot,  (how  simple  soeuer  your  verse  bee,)  but 
thinke  well  of  the  matter."    At  length,  with  these  perswasions 


JO 

and  sucbe  like,  I  was  coiitente  (good  reader)  to  puhlishe  theio 
for  thy  behoufe,  and  the  publique  weale  of  ray  countrye ;  at 
which  if  thou  enuie,  1  minde  not  therefore  to  enuie  my  selfe, 
and  staye  my  penne.  But  (God  willing)  thou  shalt,  as  fast 
as  I  can  prepare  them,  haue  other  bookes  from  my  handes, 
which  raaye  please  thee  againe;  and  thus  with  all  my  harte 
I  biddc  thee  hartely  farewdl.     Thy  friende  I.  H."  * 

'  From  first  edirion.    This  address  is  omitted  in  editions  1587  and  1610. 


A  PREFACE  T^  -' 

THE  READER. 
iDtvr  Jitsdt  bas:  ;  : 

[Before  the  edition  1587.]  >aui  ^^i  I 

ABOUTE  a  twelue  yeares  since  (gentle  reader)  when  I  tooke 
vpon  mee  for  exercise  sake,  only  to  make  proofc  in  English 
verso  what  I  could  do,  &  had  read  the  Mirour  for  Magistrates 
which  MaJster  Baldwine  set  forth,  (a  booke  both  well  penned 
and  also  well  commended)  I  perused  the  Chronicles,  I  noted 
the  times,  I  conferred  the  Princes,  and   rae  thought  that  a 
nombcr  euen  at  the  firste  inhabiting  of  this  Islande,  offered 
the  selues  the  like  haplesse  impes  of  Fortune,  with  matter  very 
meete  for  imitation,  and  like  admonition,  meeter  and  phrase. 
Andsith  Maister  Baldwine  in  these  words  of  his  preface  moued 
mee  somewhat  thereto :  It  were  (sayth  hee)  a  goodly  and  a 
notable  mater  to  search,  and  discours  our  whole  storie  from 
the  beginning  of  the  inhabiting  of  this  Isle,  &c.     I  read  agaync 
the  stories,  I  considered  of  the  Princes,  I  noted  theireliues,  and 
therewith  conferred  their  falles :    on  this  1  tooke   penne    in 
Jbande,  and  wrote  a  fewe  of  the  firste  euen  as  they  since  were 
imprinted,    minding    nothing    lesse  thea  to    publish    them 
abroadc:  and  because  I  wouldenot  kcepe  secret  my  first  la- 
bourcs  in  this  kinde  of  studie,  (although  1  mighte  haue  blushed 
at  the  basenes  of  ray  style)  1  shewed  them  to  some  frendes  of 
mync,  desired  theire  vnfayned  iudgementes  herein,  who  not 
only  pcrswaded  mee  that  they  were  well,    but  also   desired 
mee  to  followe  the  same  order  till  1   came  to  the  birth   of 
Christe:  which  when  I  bad  done,  yet  they  willed   mee  to 
proceede  with  the  falles  of  the  like  vntill  the  conqueste,  which 
I  coulde  not  doe,  being  called  away  by  other  studies  of  more 
importaunce,  but  the  reit  which  1  wrot  after  that  time  and 


12 

af  leisure  since  hy  the  perswations  of  some  worshipfull,  and 
niy  very  good  fr«ndes ;  I  haue  here  set  downe,  and  agaync 
corrected  tliosc  which  I  wrot  before,  euen  for  the  profit  of  my 
natiue  countrey.  Now  1  desire  thee  (gentle  reader)  so  well 
to  accept  of  my  paynes  and  good  wiU  herein  bestowed,  as  I  was 
well  willing  by  this  edition  to  doe  thee  case,  and  pleasure. 
And  so  whishing  thee  the  feare  of  God,  thelouc  of  thy  Prince 
and  countrey,  and  after  this  lyfe  the  fruition  of  perfecte  feli- 
citye,  1  doe  bid  tkee  hartely  in  Christe  lesu  farewell. 

Thy  frende, 

loHN  HiGlNS.* 

•  This  is  principally  taken  from  the  latter  part  of  the  prefatory  epistle  of 
1575. 


13 

4 

THOMAS   NEWTON 

TO  THE  READER, 

in  the  behalf  e  of  this  Booke> 

As  when  an  arming  sword  of  proofe  is  made, 
Both  Steele  and  yron  must  be  tempred  well : 
(For  yron  giues  the  strength  vnto  the  blade, 
And  Steele,  in  edge  doth  cause  it  to  excell) 
As  ech  good  Bladesmith  by  his  Arte  can  tell : 
For,  without  yron,  brittle  will  it  breake, 
And,  without  Steele,  it  will  bee  blunt  and  weakc : 

So  bookes,  that  now  theyr  faces  dare  to  show. 
Must  raettald  bee  with  Nature  and  with  Skill : 
For  Nature  causeth  stuffe  enough  to  flow, 
And  Arte  the  same  contriues  by  learned  quill 
In  order  good,  and  currant  methode  still. 
So  that,  if  Nature  frowne,  the  case  is  hard  i 
And  if  Arte  want,  the  matter  all  is  mardc. 

The  worke,  which  here  is  offred  to  thy  vewe, 
With  both  these  poynts  is  full  and  fitly  fraught ; 
Set  foorth  by  sundry  of  the  learned  Crewe  : 
Whose  stately  styles  haue  Phoebus  garland  caught. 
And  Parnasse  mount  theyr  worthy  works  haue  raught, 

Theyr  wordes  are  thundred  with  such  maiestie, 

As  fitteth  right  ech  matter  in  degree. 

Reade  it  therefore,  but  reade  attentiuely, 
Consider  well  the  drift  whereto  it  tendes : 
Confer  the  times,  perpend  the  history, 
The  parties  states  and  eke  theyr  dolefull  endcs. 
With  odde  euentes,  that  divine  iustice  sendes. 
For,  thinges  forepast  are  presidents  io  vs, 
Whereby  wee  may  thinges  present  now  discussc. 


14 

Certes  this  worlde  a  Stage  may  well  bee  calde, 
"Whereon  is  playde  the  parte  of  eu'ry  wight  ; 
Some,  now  aloft,  anon  with  malice  galde 
Are  from  high  state  brought  into  dismal!  plight. 
Like  counters  are  they,  which  stand  now  in  sight 

For  thousand  or  ten  thousand,  and  anone  ^'  . 

Remooued,  stande  perhaps  for  lesse  then  one. 

1587. 
Thomas  Newtonus, 

Cestreshyrius,* 

(  First  printed  and  now  given  from  edition  1587 :  also  in  Niccols. 


l-frr> 


■'H 


^ 


15 

THE  AUTHORS  'iM5tJ(Mo&! 
J. 

When  Sommer  sweete,  with  all  her  pleasures  past, 
And  leaues  began,  to  leaue  the  shady  tree, 
The  winter  coTde  encreased  on  full  fast, 
And  time  of  yeare  to  sadnesmoued  mee  : 
For  moysty  blastes,  not  halfe  so  rairthfull  bee, 

As  sweete  Aurora  bringes  in  spring  time  fay  re, 
^  ^Our  ioyes  they  dimme,  as  winter  damps  the  ay  re, 

■^''^^*^ 

The  nights  began,  to  growe  to  lengthe  apace, 

Sir  Fhcthus  to  th'  Antarctiquc  gan  to  fare : 

From  Libraes  lance,  toth'  Crab  hee  tooke  his  race 

Beneth  the  lyne,  to  lende  of  light  a  share. 

For  then  with  vs  the  dayes  more  darkishe  are. 

More  shorte,  colde,  moyste,  and  stormy  cloudy  clitj 
For  sadnes  more  then  mirths  or  pleasures  fit. 

3. 
Deuising  then,  what  bookes  were  best  to  reade, 
Both  for  that  time,  and  sentence  graue  also, 
For  conference  of  frende  to  stande  in  steade. 
When  I  my  faith  full  frende  was  parted  fro  ; 
I  gate  mee  strayght  the  Printers  shops  vnto, 
To  seeke  some  worke  of  price  I  suerly  ment, 
That  might  alone  my  carefull  mynde  content.  * 

*  HiginSf  by  correcting  what  he  had  wrote  before,  re-composed  several  passage*: 
The  first  three  stanzas  of  the  Induction  are  thus  varied  in  the  edition  of  1575; 
As  Somer  sweete  with  all  hir  pleasures  past, 
And  leaues  began  to  leaue  both  braunche  and  tree, 
While  winter  cold  approched  neere  full  faste, 
Mee  thought  the  time  to  sadnes  moued  mee  , 

On  drouping  daies  not  half  such  mirth  haue  wee. 
As  when  the  time  of  yeare  and  wether's  fayre, 
S«i  iQoue  our  mindes  as  naocions  moue  the  ayre* 


l6  Authors  Induction, 

4.  .  . 

Amongst  the  rest,^  I  found  a  bookc  so  sad, 
Astyme  of  jeare  or  sadnesse  *  coulde  requier  : 
The  Mirour  narade,  for  Magistrates  hee  had, 
So  finely  pende,  as  harte  could  well  desire. 
Which  when  I  read,  so  set  my  heart  on  fire, 
Eftsoones  it  raee  constraynde  to  take  the  payne, 
Not  lefte  with  once,^  to  reade  it  once  agayne. 

5. 
And  as  agayne  I  vewde  this  worke  with  heede, 
And  marked  playne  each  party  paynf^  his  fall : 
Mee  thought  in  mynde,  I  sawe  tliose  men  indeede, 
Eke  howe  they  came  in  order  Princely'  all ; 
Declaring  well,  this  life  is  but  a  thrall, 

Sith  those  on  whom,  for  Fortunes  giftes  wee  stare, 
Ofte  sooneste  sinke,  in  greatest  seas  of  care. 

6. 
For  some,  perdy,  were  Kinges  of  highe  estate, 
And  som  were  Dukes,  and  came  of  regall  race : 
Som  Princes,  Lordes,  and  Judges  greate  that  sate 
In  councell  still,  decreeing  euery  case. 
Som  other  Knightes,  that  vices  did  irabrace,' 

The  wearye  nightes  approched  on  apace 

With  darksom  shades  which  somewhat  breedeth  care. 

The  Sun  hath  take  more  neere  the  earth  his  race, 

In  Libra  than  his  greatest  swinge  he  bare, 

For  pardy  then  the  daies  more  colder  are, 

Then  fades  the  greene  fruite  timely,  herbes  are  don, 

And  wynter  ginnes  to  waste  that  Sommer  won, 

I  deemde  some  booke  of  mourning  thcame  wae  bcste 
To  reade,  wherwith  instructions  mingled  so 
As  migh[t]  againe  refresh  my  wittes  opprestc, 
With  tediousnes  not  driuc  mee  quyte  iherfro : 
Wherfore  I  went  tlie  printer's  straight  vnto. 
To  seeke  some  weorkc  of  price  I  surely  raente 
That  might  herein  my  carefull  mynde  contente. 

1  At  leength  by  hag,  jb.        ♦  Wynter,  ed.  1573«  ^  Not  Icaoe  with  once,  \\ 

«  Tell,  ib.  ^Pleading,  ib. 


Author* s  Induction^  17 

Som  Gentlemen,  som  poore  exalted  hye : 
Yet  euery  one,  had  playde  his  tragedye. 
7. 

A  Mirour  well  it  mis^ht  *  bee  calde,  a  glasse 

As  cleare  as  any  9  cristall  vnder  Sun  t 

In  each  respecte,  the  Tragedies  so  passe, 

Theyr  names  shall  line,  that  such  a  worke  begun. 

For  why,  with  such  Decorum  is  it  don, 

That  Momus  spight  with  *  more  then  Argus  eyes, 
Can  neuer  watche,  to  keepc  it  from  the  wise. 
8. 

Examples  there,  for  all  estates  you  finde, 

For  iudge  (I  say)  what  iustice  hee  shoulde  vse  : 

The  noble  man,  to  beare  a  noble  mynde, 

And  not  him  selfe  ambitiously  abuse. 

The  gentleman  vngentlenes  refuse, 

The  rich  and  poore,  and  eu'ry  one  may  see, 
Which  way  to  loue,  and  Hue  in  due  *  degree. 

1  wishe  them  often  well  to  reade  it  than, 
And  marke  the  causes  why  those  Princes  fell : 
But  let  raee  ende  ray  tale  that  I  began. 

*  May.  ib.         *  More  cleare  then  any.  ib.  '  Which,  ib.  *  His.  il», 

'  Thus  ia  first  edition. 

Me  thinkes  they  might  beware  by  others  harme, 

And  eke  eschue  to  clamtner  vp  so  hye : 

Yet  cursed  pryde  doch  all  their  wittes  becharme, 

They  thinke  of  naught  but  prouerbes  true  do  trie : 

Who  hewes  aloft  the  chips  may  hurle  his  eye : 

Who  climes  the  tops  of  trees,  wher  bowes  ar  smal. 

Or  hawty  towres,  may  quickly  catch  a  fall. 

This  thing  full  well  doth  Phaetons  fall  declare. 

And  Icarus  aloft  would  flie  and  soare : 

Eke  Bladud  once  of  Britayne  rule  that  bare, 
Y^        Would  clyme  and  flie,  but  cache  did  fal  tlierfore : 

For  Phaeton  was  with  lightning  all  lo  tore, 

And  Icarus  the  meane  that  did  not  recke. 

Was  drownde;  by  fal  did  Bladud  brcake  his  neck. 

c 


t:48  Authors  Induction, 

When  I  had  fed  these  Tragedies  full  well, 
And  past  the  winter  eueiiings*  long  to  tell, 
One  ni:^ht  at  last  I  thought  to  leauethis '  vse, 
,3t.'<?T<>  (ake  som  ease  beefore  1  chaundge  my  muse. 

10. 
Wherefore  away  from  reading  1  raee  gate, 
,    5  9^  IMy  heauy  heade  waxte  dull  for  wante  of  reste  : 
,al"  I  layde  mee  downe,  the  night  was  waxed  late, 
-    For  lacke  of  sleepe  myne  eyes  were  sore  oppreste  i 
.^Yet  fancy  still  of  all  theirc  deathes  increaste, 

Mee  thought  my  mynde  from  them  I  coulde  not  take, 
So  worthy  wightes,  as  caused  mee  to  wake.  ^ 
.,h-i-^-^[  11. 

J,  ^  At  length  appeared  clad  in  purple  blacke" 

Sweete  SomnuSy  rest  which  comforts  eache  aliue ; 
By  ease  of  mynde,  that  weares  away  all  wracke, 
That  noysome  night,  from  wery  witts  doth  driue, 
Of  labours  long,  the  pleasures  weeatcheiue. 
Whereat  I  ioyde,  sith  after  labours  paste,  ' 
1  might  j^nioye  sweete  Somnus  sleepe  at  laste.  * 
12. 
But  hee  by  whom  I  thought  my  selfe  at  reste, 
Reuiued  all  my  fancyes  fond  before : 
^J  more  desirous  humbly  did  requeste. 
Him  shew  th*  vnhappy  Albion  Princes  yore.'    . 
For  well  1  "wist,  that  hee  coulde  tell  mee  more, 

The  scriptures  eake  of  such  beare  witnes  can ; 
As  Bnbiion  for  high  presumption  fell : 
But  let  me  ende  my  tale — 

4'  And  past  the  eight  with  labours  long.  ib.  *  My.  ib. 

^  Aletlioutihte  nothing  my  minde  from  them  could  take. 
So  long  as  Somnus  sufi'ered  me  to  wake.  ib. 
7  Then  straight  appcard  in  purple  colour  blacke.  ib.  At  last  appeared.  N. 

•  Alter  paynes  were  past.  ed.  1575. 

•  I  might  receiue  l>y  Somnus  ease  at  last,  ib, 

»  Vnbappyi^tBic^LKSffcSfy*^'"*'  *•*•  '  '^ 


Authors  Induction^  19 

Sith  vnto  diners,  Somnus  erste  had  tolde, 

Wbat  thinges  were  done,  in  elder  times  of  olde. 
13. » 
Then  strayght  hee  foorfh  his  seruante  Morpheus  calde. 
On  JJtgins  here  thou  muste  (quolh  hee)  attende ; 
The  Britaj/nePeeres  to  bring;  (whom  Fortune  thralde) 
From  Lethian  lake,  and  th'  auncient  shapes  them  lende; 
That  they  may  shew  why,  howe,  they  tooke  theire  ende, 

1  will  (quoth  Morpheus)  shewe  him  wh^it  they  were  ; 

And  so  mee  thQughit^  1  sawe  them  strayght  appeare. 
.sic*  ^Cf* '»•  'Ht  moT.]4. 

One  after  one,  they  came  in  straunge  attire, 

But  some  with  woundes  and  bloude  were  so  disguisde, 

Instead  of  Stanzas  13  and  14  the  following  are  inserted  in  the  first  edit. 
At  leiia;fh  hee  foorth  his  seruant  Morpheus  calde, 
And  bad  him  shewe  mee  from  ihe  first  to  th'  ende, 
Surh  persones  as  in  Britayne  Fortune  thralde : 
Which  8trai<iht  vpon  his  calling  did  attende, 
And  thus  hee  spake  withcountenaunce  of  frende, 

"  Come  on  thy  wayes  and  thou  shalt  see  and  here,  > 

"  The  Britaynes  and  their  doinges  what  they  were." 

^   And  as  he  led  me  through  the  darkes  a  whyle, 

At  length  wee  came  into  a  fjoodlv  hall, 

At  th'  ende  wherof  there  seemde  a  duskish  lie: 

Out  ot  the  whicJi  h^e  gan  the  Britaynes  call, 

Such  only  as  from  Fortune's  hap  did  fall : 

Which  when  he  called  thryce  me  seemde  to  heare, 
The  door^s  to  cracke  from  whence  they  should  appears. 

And  thvycfrl  shririkteaside  and  shund  the  sight: 
Andtl>r€e>tuHesjhryce  I  wighte  myselfe  away: 
Eke  tliryce  from  thence  there  flew  a  flashe  of  light, 
Three  times  I  sawe  them  comins^  make  their  staye: 
At  laste  theif  ail  approchte  in  surh  ari-ay, 
With  sundrie  shewes,  appearins;  vnto  mee, 
A  straunger  sighte  thenerste  with  eyes  I  see. 

Men  migbty  bigge,  in  phine  and  straunge  attyre, 
■:   Bot  some  with' wounds  and  bloud  were  so  disguisde, 
You  scarcely  «mld  with  icasons  ayde  aspire, 
»1  a3TS?-.To:k»owjvli»t  wawesuch  cruel!  death  detiisdc; 
But  sithe  I  haue  their  formes  beneath  comprisde, 
Wheras  their  stofies-seuerally  1  showe 
Your  selfethfifby  their  cause  of. death  Jiuiy know. 

C  2 


20  Authofs  Induction. 

You  scarsly  coulde  by  reasons  ajde  aspire, 
'7  '  To  know  v^hat  warresuch  sondry  deaths  deuisde;^  )  )  | 
And  seuerally  those  Princes  were  surprisde. 
Of  former  state,  these  states  gaue  ample  show 
jWhich  did  relate  their  lines  and  ouerthrow. 
15. 
Of  sora  the  faces  bolde  and  bodyes  were  ^ 
Distaynde  with  woade,  and  turkishe  beardes  they  had  : 
On  th'  oner  lyppes  mutchatoes  long  of  heyre. 
And  wylde  they  seemde,  as  men  dispayring  mad. 
Theire  lookes  might  make  a  constant  heart  ♦  full  sad, 
And  yet  I  could  not  so  forsake  the  vewe^ 
Nor  ^  presence,  ere  theire  myndes  I  likewise  knewe. 
16. 
For  Morpheus  bade  them  each  in  order  tell ' 
Their  names  and  Hues,  their  haps  and  haplesse  dayes. 
And  by  whatmeanes,  from  Fortunes  whcele*  they  fell, 
"Which  did  them  earst,  vnto  such  honours  rayse. 
Wherewith  the  first  not  making  moe  delayes, 
A  noble  Prince  broade  wounded  brest^  that  bare 
Drew  neere,  to  tell  the  cause  of  all  his  care.  ^ 

17. 
Which  when  mee  thought  to  speake  hee  might  be  bolde,  r 
Deepe  from  his  brcste  heethrewe  an  vncouth  *  sounde : 
I  was  amazde  his  gestures  to  beholde. 
And  bloud  that  freshly  trickled  from  his  wounde. 
With  Eccho  so  did  halfe  his  wordes  confounde. 
That  scarce  a  while  (he  sence  might  playne  appeare  : 
At  last,  *  mee  thought,  hee  spake  as  you  shall  heare.* 

•  And  eke  their  faces  all  and  bodies  were.  ih. 

♦  Make  my  fearful  harte.  ib.  '  For  my  life  eschewe.  ib.  *  Their,  ib. 
'  For  Morpliciis  wildc  me  bvde  and  l)ad  them  tell.  ib.             *   Globe,  ib. 

'  A  person  ta"l  wide  woiindes  in  breste.  ib. 

*  And  as  to  speakf  he  wiste  he  might  be  bolde,  ib.  *  Vnquoth,N. 
3  But  thn'.  frd.  1«)75. 

♦  Some  copies  of  N  iccoU  hay^e  a  castration  of  this  Induction  with  some  trifling 
difference  of  orthography.  •* 


21 


n 


HOW    KING    ALBANACT 

THE    YONGEST    SON     OF 

BRUTUS, '  AND  FIRST  KING  OF 

♦       Albany  (now  called  Scotland)  was 
slayne  bj/  king  Humber,  the 
yeere  before  Christy 
1085. 

1. 

oiTH  flattering  Fortune  sliely  could  beguile 
Mee,  first  of  Brytane  Princes  in  this  land  :  * 
And  jet  at  first  on  mee  did  sweetely  smile, 
Doe  marke  mee  here,  ^  that  first  in  presence  stand. 
And  when  thou  well  my  wounded  corps  hast  scand, 

Then  shalt  thou  heare  my  hap  to  penne  the  same  * 

In  stories  calde  Albanactoe  by  name.^ 

2. 
Lay  feare  ^  aside,  let  nothing  thee  amaze, 
Ne  haue  despaire,  ne  scuse  the  want  of  time : ' 

'  The  story  of  Brutus,  or  Brute,  as  here  related  by  his  son  Albanact,  closely 
versifies  the  principal  incidents  of  his  history  given  in  the  Chronicle  of  Saint 
Albans;  an  authoety  probably  referred  to  by  Higgins  in  the  prefaratory  address 
as  "  an  olde  chronicle  imprinted  the  year  1515,"  that  being  the  date  of  one  of  the 
editions  printed  by  W.  de  Worde. 

^  Me  first  of  all  the  princes  of  this  lande.    ed.  1575, 

^  Behold  mee  here.  N. 

*  Then  shalt  thou  see,  what  tale  I  niynde  to  frame,   ed.  1575. 
'  The  following  stanza  is  second  in  edition  1575. 

So  if  thou  liste  to  heare  what  I  recite, 

If  thou  intende  to  showe  my  fatall  fall : 

I  praye  thee  take  the  paynes  my  tale  to  wryte. 

As  I  in  order  here  repeate  it  shall, 

What  nedst  thou  muse  ?  thou  nedst  not  feare  at  all. 

Syth  those  that  later  liu'de  their  tales  haue  tolde. 

Our  elder  hues  to  write  thou  mayst  be  bolde. 

*  Drrade.  ed.  1575.  ^  Ne  haue  dispaire  of  so  vncouched  ryme.  ib. 


23  King  Alhanacfl 

Leaue  of  on  race  with  fearefull  lookcs  to  gaze, 

Thy  pen  may  seruc  for  such  a  tale  as  myne. 

First  I  will  tell  thee  all '  my  fathers  lyne, 

Then  hitlierward  why  bee  with  Troians  raan'd, 
His  Toyadge  made,  and  founde  this  noble  land.  * 

3.  ''^ 

And  last  1  minde  to  tell  thee  of  my  selfe, 
My  life  and  death,  a  Tragedy  so  true 
As  may  approue  your  world  is'all  but  pelfe, 
And  pleasures  sweete,  whom  sorows  aye  ensue. 
Hereafter  eke  in  order  comes  a  erne, 

Which  can  declare,  of  worldly  pleasures  vayne 

The  price  wee  all  haue  bought,  with  pinching  *  paine.  * 

4. 
When  Troy  was  sackt,  and  brent,  and  could  not  stand, 
jEmas  fled  from  thence,  Anchises  sonne, 
And  came  at  length  to  King  Lntinus  land  : 
Hee  Turnus  slew,  Lauinia  eke  hee  wonne. 
After  whose  death,  Ascanus  next  his  sonne 

Was  crowned  King,  and  SiluhiHy  then  his  heire, 

Espoused  to  a  Latine  Lady  faire.  ^ 

»  Of.  N. 

*  Then  why  he  flyinp  from  the  Latin  land 
Did  saile  the  seas  and  found  tiie  Brituii  strand.  N. 

*  Greeuous.  ed.  15T5.  , 

*  The  folJuwing  omitted  stanza  from  ed.  1575. 

Well  nowe  I  see  thou  putst  apart  thy  fright, 
(And  eiuste  an  eare  to  heare  nut  heard  before) 
J  will  declare  the  storie  ail  bu  ri^ht, 
Thuu  shalt  no  whit  haue  neede  t'n.quire  no  more; 
Do  marke  me  will  what  I  recite  theri'lorc, 
And  after  write  it  and  therewith  my  name, 
Let  hardly  me  rcceiue  ii  ought  be  l>l<irne. 
'  And  reign'deiii  yeares,  Ascanius  tlien  his  sonne, 
Rei(^ndenext  to  him,  tke  Siluius  was  his  heyre, 
Begate  ray  father,  of  a  Lady  fayre.  ib. 


Kins  Albanacti 


•» 


By  her  had  Siluius  shortly  issue  eke, 

A  goodly  Prynce,  and  Brutus  was  bis  name.  ^^^^ 

But  what  should  1  of  his  misfortune  spcake,  ,,.,,j  |' 

For  hunting,  as  hee  minded  strike  the  game,  ^^  ^[ij 
He  shot  ^  his  father,  that  beyond  it  came. 

The  quarrel! '  glaunst,  and  through  his  tender  side  i      if. 

It  flewe  wherethrough  the  noble  .y/ZwiM*  dyde.'  7  .j 

°  •'  bat>  i>TU  -^M 

Lo  thus  by  chaunce  though  princely  Brutus  slfewo  .:»iq  j^,,  j^ 

His  father  Sifuius,  sore  agaynsthis  will,  ,fj.  ,,^j4 

Which  came  tosoone,  as  he  his  arrowe  drewe 
Though  hee  in  chace  the  game,  did  raindeto  kill, 
Yet  was  hee  banisht  from  his  countrey  still,  ^ 

Commaunded  neuer '  to  retourne  no  more,  ,y« 

Except  he  would  his  life  to  loose  therefore.  -. 

7. 
On  this,  to  Greece  Lord  Brutus  tooke  his  way, 
Where  Troians  were,  by  Graecians,  captiues  kept : 
Helenus  was  by  Pirrhus  brought  away 
From  death  of  Troians,  whom  their*  friends  bewept. 
Yet  hee  in  Greece  this*  while  no  busines slept, 

But  by  his  facts,  and  feates  obtayn'd  such  fame, 

Seauen  thousand  captiue  Troians  to  him  came. 

•  Strook.    N.  ''  "  An  arrow  with  a  square  bead."  JoAns<»t.«ii<>u»9iO  < 

^  But  wFien  as  Brutu»  fifiene  yeares  was  olde,  ->  ullcl  ddT  * 

(For  so  tlioy  calrie  my  father  by  his  name) 
With  Siluius  then  a  hunting  goe  he  would. 
And  thinkinsr  tor  to  strike  in  chace  the  game, 
His  father  that  by  chaunce  heyonde  it  came, 
Receiude  the  {^launce  and  through  his  tender  syde,  i 
With  deadly  dint,  the  shaft  did  swiftly  slyde.    ed.  lolS. 

*   So  though  by  chaunce  my  father  Brutus  slewe, 
My  grandsyre  Siluius,  sore  against  his  will : 
Which  cante  by  chaunce  as  he  his  arrow  drewe,        - 
That  thought  the  fearfull  Harte,  not  him  to  kill  s  _ 
Yet  was  he  banisht  from  Italia  still ;  &c.  ib. 

*  Thither.  N.  *  From  death  of  those  whose  fall  their,   ed.  1575. 
>   3  My  fiither  all  this.  ib. 


:S4  King  Alhanact. 

8. 

Assaracus  a  noble  Graecian  eke, 
"Who  by  his  mollier  came  of  Troian  race, 
Because  he  sawe  himselfe  in  Greece  to  weake,  * 
Came  vnto  him  to  ajde  him  in  this  case, 
For  that  his  brother  tliought  him  to  deface.  * 

Which  was  a  Greeke  by  both  his  parents  sides, 

His  Castells  three  the  Troian  Bruins  guides. 

9. 
"While  "^  hee  to  bee  theyr  Captayne  was  content, 
And  as'  the  Troians  gathered  to  his  band, 
Ambassage  tothe*  Graecian  King  he  sent. 
For  to  entreate  they'  miglit  depart  his  land, 
"Which  when  King  Pandraaus  did  vnderstand, 

An  army  strayght  he  did  therefore  addresse. 

On  purpose  all  the  Troians  to  suppresse. 

10. 
So  as  King'  Pandrasus  at  Spartane  towne 
Thought  them  in  deserts  by,  to  circumuent, 
The  Troians  with  *  three  thowsand  beate  them  downe, 
Such  fauoure  loe,  them  ^  Lady  Fortune  lent. 
By  Mars  his  force,  their  rayes  and  ranckes  hee  rent, 

And  tooke  Antigonus  the  brother  of  their  King,  ♦ 

With  others  moe,  as  captiues  home  to  bring. 

11. 
The  taken  towne  from  which  the  King  was  fled, 
Sir  Brutus  with  sixe  hundreth  men  did  man, 
Eche  prisoner  was  vnto  his  keeper  led 
To  keepe  in  towne,  the  noble  Troians  wan : 
And  into  woods  the  Troiane  gate  him  than* 

*  Saw  my  father's  powre  not  wekc.  1575. 

'  For  of  his  brother  he  could  finde  no  grace.  N. 

*  Thus.  1575.  7  All.  ib.  ^  His  post  vnto  the.  ib.  *  He.  ib. 
'  Then  wliyle  King.  ib.            ^  My  father  with.  ib.                         '  Him.  ib. 

*  And  tooke  the  brother  of  the  Grecian  King.  N. 

'  My  father  into  woods  conueyde  him  than.  cd.  1575. 


King  Albanact,  gj 

Againe  with  his,  hee  kept  him  there  by  night 

To  quaile  the  Graecians  if  they  came  to  tight. 

12. 
The  King  which  cal'd  to  minde  his  former  foile, 
His  flight,  and  brother  dcare  by  Troians  take,^ 
The  towne  hee  lost,  where  Brutus  gaue '  the  spoile, 
Hee  thought  not  so  the  fielde  and  fight  forsake, 
But  ol  his  men  a  muster  new  to  make, 

And  so  againe  for  to  besiege  the  towne 

In  hope  reuenge,  or  winne  his  lost  renownc. 

13. 
By  night  the  ambushe,*  that  his  purpose  knew, 
Came  forth  from  woods,  whereas  they^  waited  by, 
The  Troians  all  th'  vnarmed  GrfEcians  slew, 
Went  through  their  campc,  none  could  their  force  deny, 
Vnto  the  lent  where  Pandrasus  did  ly, 

Whereas  Lord  Brutus  '  tooke  their  King  that  night. 

And  sau'd  his  life  as  seem'd  a  worthy  wight. 

14. 

This  great  exploite  so  wisely  well  atchiu'd, 
The  Troiane  victour  did  a  counsaile  call, 
Wherein  might  bee  for  their  estate  contriu'd, 
^y  counsaile  graue,  the  publiqueweale  of  all. 
Now  tell  (quoth  he)  what  raunsorae  aske  wee  shall  ? 

Or  what  will  you  for  our  auaile  deuise  ? 

To  which  Memprkius  answer'd,  graue  and  wise. ' 

*  And  w+ien  the  kiiij;  had  calde  to  raj-nde  his  foyle, 
His  fliolite,  and  brother  by  the  Troianes  take.  ib. 
7  And  Brutus  had.  ib.  ^  By  nigiit  my  father,  ib.        '  He.  ib,- 

,     '  My  father,  ib. 

*  Which  victoria  when  he  hnd  wisely  won, 
TheTrojaiie  victour  did  a  counsayie  call. 
To  knowe  what  best  were  wiih  the  king  be  don; 
Now.lell  (q'  he)  what  rapsom  aske  we  shall : 
On  which  when  none  agreed  scarce  of  all, 
At  length  Mempricius  vp  from  seate  did  ryse 
And  silence  made,  gaue  thus  his  cuunsaylQ  wise.  ib. 


26  Kins[  Alhanacf^ 


o 


15. 

'*  I  axnnoi  {Brutus ^)  but  commend  t?iine  act* 
In  this,  thou  nol>le  Captaine,  worthy  praise : 
Which  deeraest  well,  it  were  an  licynous  fact,  * 
T'  abridge  the  Grecian  king  of  vitall  daics, 
And  that  wee  ought ''  by  clemency  to  raise 
Our  fame  to  skie,  not  by  a  sauage  guise, 
Sith  Gods  and  men  both,  cruelty  despise. 

**  The  cause  wee  fought,  was  for  the  freedorae  all 
Of  Troians  taken,  wee  haue  frecdome  won. 
Wee  haue  our  purpose,  and  their  king  withall^^r:)  ^irr. 
To  whom  of  rigour  nothing  ought  bee  done : 
Though  hee  the  quarrel  with  vs  first  Ix'gon, 
And  though  wee  owe  the  fall  of  Troyes  requite, 
Yet  let  reucnge  thereof  from  gods  to  lighte. 

17. 
**  His  subiects  now  bewaile'  their  proude  pretence, 
And  weapons  laide  aside,  for  mercy  crie  : 
They  all  confesse  their  plagues  to  come  from  thence, 
Where  first  from  faith  of  Gods  they  seemd  to  fly. 
Their  Nobles  dare  not  come  the  case  to  try, 

Buteuenfor  peace,  with  all  their  heartes,  they  sue, 
And  meekly  graunt,  whence  all  their  mischiefes  grewe. 

18. 
"  The  Princesse  ^  fayre,  his  daughter,  who  surmounte 
For  vertues  rare,  for  beautie  braue,  and  grace. 
Both  Helen  fine,  of  whom  they  made  accountes, 
And  all  the  rest  that  come  of  Graeciao  race,    . 
Shee  for  her  father  sues,  bewailes  his  case, 

*  Troianes.  ed.  1575.  *  The  fact.  ib. 

'  Which  thought,  as  'twas  a  wicked  hcyaous  acte.  ib. 

*  We  rather  ought,  ib.  "  All  do  wayle.  ibu 
»  Ladj.  ib.  ,  . 


King  Alhanaci,  27 

Implores,  desires  thy  jrracc,  and  crods  aboue, 
Whose  woes  may  them  and  thc^e  to  mercy  hioue.' 

J9. 

"  Some  Troians  say  hee  should  dcpo«!ed  bee 

Froiii  kinirdomc  quite,  or  else  beo  slaine  hee  should, 

And  wee  here  byde,  eke  this  mislyketh  me, 

Nay  rather  while  wee  stay  keepe  him  in  hold, 

Or  let  him  pay  a  raurisome  large  of  ji^old, 
Arid  hostage  sfeue,  and  ho.'p.age  doe  of  right 
To  thee,  that  wonst  the  fielde  by  Martiall  fight.* 

20. 
"  For  kingdomes  sake  a  capf  iue  king  to  kill, 
As  euill  abroade  as  in  his  n;»tine  laride,* 
For  vs  in  Grei><  eto  dwell  were  eUen  as  ill, 
The  force  of  Greece  we  cannot  still  withstande. 
Ijei  vs  therefore  both  cruelty  abande, 

And  prudent  seeke  both  gods  and  men  to  please  : 

So  shall  we  finde  good  lucke  at  lande  and  seas.* 

21. 
*'  Or  sith  the  Graecians  will  thee  for  io  take 
The  noble  Ladic  lunogen  to  wyfe, 
If  thou  so  please,  let  him  her  dowry  make 

'  AuAby  J»ir  wisdome,  cheere  and  parentes  loue, 
Di>th  vs,  and  Brutus,  lioth  to  pitie  nioue.   ib. 

*  Yet  some  will  saye,  he  should  depriued  bee, 
Of  kin^duiue  quite,  and  worthy  Brutus  should 
Receiue  the  scepter,  this  ii.isliketh  mee, 

>.  To  this  vniustice.  Brutus,  if  we  could 

Consent,  I  deeine,  a^tei'  heneuer  would, 
So  much  hiraselfe  ainliitiou'tly  l'  abuse, 
Or  else  a  kuij;  vnkiiidly  s(»  to  vse,  ib. 

*  Our  names  Ibr  aye  with  foule  defame  would  brand.  N. 
'  For  kingtiomes  sake  a  kin^^at  home  to  kill 

Were  fane  to  had,  withm  his  natiuc  lande  : 

Though  he  by  right  or  wrong  directed  still, 

His  forte  gainst  vs,  that  did  him  so  withstande: 

The  king  hath  therfore  ay  the  sworde  in  hand, 

If  any  kicke  against  his  pointes  of  lawe: 

To  cut  them  of,  or  keepe  them  vnder  awe.   ed.  1575. 


28  King  Albanact, 

Of  fiTolde,  ships,  siluer,  come,  for  our  reliefe, 
And  other  thiiiges,  which  are  in  Grcecia  ryfe. 

That  we  so  fraught  may  seeke  some  desert  shore, 
Where  thou  and  thj^ne  may  raygne  for  euermore.  *** 

22. 
This  pleas'd  both  Brutus  and  the  Troians  all, 
Who  wil'd  forthwith  that  Pandrasus  the  King, 
Should  reuerently  be  brought  into  the  hall, 
And  present  when  they  tolde  him  of  this  thing  : 
So  griefe  and  sorow  e  great  his  heart  did  stinge. 
He  could  not  shewe  by  countenaunce  or  cheere 
That  he  it  lik'd,  but  spake  as  you  shall  heare. 

23. 
**  Sith  that  the  wrath  of  gods  hath  yeelded  me,* 
And  eke  my  brother,  captiues  lo  your  hands, 
I  am  content  to  do  as  pleaseth  yce. 
You  haue  my  realme,  my  lyfe,  my  goods  and  landes,^ 
1  must  be  needes  content  as  Fortune  standes. 
1  gieue  my  daughter,  gold,  and  siluer  fine, 
With  what  for  dowry  els  you  craue  is  rayne." 

24. 
To  make  my  tale  the  shorter  if  I  may. 
This  truce  concluded  was  immediately  : ' 
And  all  ihinges  else  performed  by  a  day, 
The  King  restor'd  that  did  in  pry  son  lie. 
The  Troians  parted  from  the  shores,  perdy,  ^ 

*  'Tis  best,  O  Brutus,  if  thou  like  her,  take 
His  daughter  Innogen  vnto  thy  wyfe: 
And  let  the  king  a  dowry  large  hirniake: 
Gold,  syluer,  shippes,  and  corne  for  our  reliefe: 
With  other  thinges  whereof  this  lande  is  rife: 
That  wee  so  fraught  may  secke  some  desert  shore 
Where  wee  and  ours  may  raigne  for  euermore.     ed.  1575* 

'  The  hateful  gods  haue  yclded  mec,     ib. 

^  Tor  feare  I  leese  both  life  and  goodes  and  iandes.     ib. 

^  My  father  tijen  was  married  by  aud  by.    ib, 

*  The  Troians  proud  of  spoilos  and  victorie.  N. 


King  AlhanactA  29 

Did  hoyse  vp  sayles,  in  two  dayes  and  a  night  :   vi  "«» 

Vpoii  the  He  of  Lestrigons '^  they  light. 

25. 
And  leaning  of  their  ships  at  roade,lo  land 
They  wand  ring  went  the  countrey  for  to  vew  :  \ 
Loe  there  a  desert  city  oldethey  fand, 
And  eke  a  temple  (if  reporte  bee  true) 
Where  in  Dianas  temple  olde,  the  crew  '° 

To  *  sacrifice  their  captaine  counsaile  gaue 

For  good  successe,  a  seate  and  soyle  to  craue.  * 

26.  ' 

And  he  no  whit  misliking  their  aduice 
Went  forth,  and  did  before  the  altar  hold 

In  his  right  hand  a  cup  to  sacrifice,  '^  *^  *' 

And  fild  with '  wine,  and  white  hinds  bloud  scarce  cold.  '  ^- 

And  then  before  her  stature  straight  hee  told 

Deuoutly  all  his  whole  peticion  there, 

In  sorte  (they  say)  as  is  repeated  heere.  * 

27. 
**  O  goddesse  great  in  groues  that  putst  wilde  boares  in  feareful  feare, 
And  maist  goe  all  the  compasse  pathes  of  euery  ayrye  sphere, 
Eke  of  th'  infernall  houses  too,  resolue  the  earthly  rights, 
And  tell  what  countrey  in  to  dwell  thou  giu'st  vs  Troian  wights. 

Assigne  a  certaine  seate  where  I  shall  worship  thee  for  aye, 

And  where  repleat  with  virgins,  1,  erect  thy  temples  maye." 

28. 
When  nine  times  hee  had  spoken  this,  and  went  . 

Foure  times  the  altar  rounde,  and  staide  agen, 
He  powr'd  the  wine  and  bloud  in  hand  hee  hent 

'  Leogrece.  ed.  1575.   '°  Where  Dian  dwelt  of  whom  the  Troian  crew.  N.  '  In.  ib. 
*  Wherin  Diana  to  such  credit  grewe : 

That  sacrifice  the  Troianes  counsayle  gaue, 

My  father  make,  »o  aunswere  for  to  haue.     ed.  1?76. 

3  Efilde  with.  ib.  '•-In  better  surte  then  I  repeate  it  here.  ib. 

'.  .i»»'>  <»«/<•'  *f'f'    .'  '"'    ' 


30  King  Albanact. 

Into  the  fire.     O  witlesse  cares  of  men^J^»i»»^''  ^^^  (t>'»"^  38iim>'r'r' 

Such  folly  raeere,  and  blindnes  great  was  then. 

But  if  religion  now  bid.les  toyes  farewell,  - 

Embrace  that's  good,  the  vice  of  times  I  tell.  ^ 

29. 

He  lajde  him  then  downebj  the  altars  side, 

Vpon  the  white  Hindes  skin  espred  therefore  : 

It  was  the  third  houre  of  the  night,  a  tyde 

Of  sweetest  sleepe,  hee  gaue  himselfe  the  more 

To  rest'  perdy.^     Then  seemed  him  before 
Diana  chaste,  the  goddesse  to  appeare. 
And  spake  to  him  these  wordes  that  you  shall  hcare. 

30. 
*'  O  ^r///e,farre  vnder  Phoebus  fall,  beyonde  of /^rflwcc  that  raigne. 
An  Hand  in  the  Ocean  is,  with  sea  tis  compast  mayne,  ' 

An  Hand  in  the  Ocean  is,  where  Giauntes  erst '  did  dwell : 
But  now  a  desert  place  that's  fit,  will  seme  thy  people  well. 
To  this  direct  thy  race,  for  there  shall  bee  thy  seate  for  aye,  ^^^  ^ 
And  to  thy  sonnes  there  shall  bee  built  another  stately  Troye. 

Hereof  thy  progeny  and  slocke,  shall  mightie  Kings  descend, 

And  vnto  them  as  subiect,  all  the  world  shall  bow  and  bend.**"* 

31.  >' 

On  this  hee  woke,  with  ioyfull  cheere,  and  told 
The  vision  all,  and  oracle  it*  gaue  : 

So  it  reioyst  their  hearts  a  thowsande  fold.         '^^4  ^^  t^iw^Wi^  oi 
To  ships  they  got,  away  the  shores  they  draue, 
And  hoysing  sailes,  for  happie  windes  they  cnjiue.     "  - 

In  thirty  dayes  their  voyage  so  they  dight, 

That  on  the  coast  of  Aphrica*^  they  light. 

Then  to  Philcenes  altars  they  attayn'd, 
(For  so  men  call  two  hilles  erected  are 

5  Surelie.  N.  «  t^,  ^,^ste-an1  sleep,  ed.  ISt^*'-"''*  ^'tfete.  ib. 

*  Aunswere  that  it.  ib.  ^  ASrica.  ib. 


Kinz  Alhanact,  31 


In  Tuinise  land)  two  brethren  ground  that  gain'd 
For  Carthage  once,  and  went  tis  sayd  too  farre, 
On  Cyren  ground  for  bounds,  tliere  buryed  were. 

Because  they  would  not  turne  againe,  but  striue 

With  Cyren  men,  they  buryed  them  aliue. 

S3. 
From  thence  they  sailed  through  the  middle  lake, 
Betwene  Europa  fayre  and  Aphrica  the  drye  : 
With  winde  at  will,  the  doubtfull  race  they  take. 
And  sail'd  to  Tuscane  shores,  on  Europe  coast  that  lye. 
Where  at  the  last  amongst  the  men  they  did  descrye 

Fowre  banisht  bandes  of  Troians  in  destresse 

To  sayle  with  them,  which  did  theraselues  addresse/ 

Companions  oi  Anterior  in  his  flight. 

But  Corinceus  was  their  captayne  than. 

For  counsayle  graue  *  a  wise  and  worthy  wight: 

In  warres  the  prayse  of*  valiantnesse  he  wan. 

Lord  Brutus  liked  well  this  noble  man, 

With  him  full  oft  confer  of  fates  hee  wold,  ,^ 

And  vnto  him  the  oracles  hee  told.* 

The  Troians  so  in  number  now  encreast. 
Set  on  to  sea  and  hoysed  sayles  to  wynde. 

To  Hercules  his  pillers  from  the  East        ^  ,iM^t  ,ii»dU  ^^m^i  h  i©<?  i 

r 

•  From  thence  they  sayled  vnto  Saliues  lake  : 

Twene  Atare  hiltes,  and  Ruscitadam  "  ' '    '"  "~~ 

They  paste,  from  thence  to  Malua  floud  they  gate  i»  \tK*illj  iiifl 
To  Hercules  his  pillers  sight  they  came :  ^^  ^jU  ^^j  j^^. 

And  then  to  Tuscan  seas  whereas  by  fame, 
Not  far  from  shore,  like  minded  mates  they  finde^     ' 
Foure  banisht  races  of  the  Troian  kinde.  ib.         cv.  .  -  v. 
»  Calde.  ib.  '  For.  ib.  ^     '" 

♦  My  father  did  so  frendely  vse  this  man,  'J''* 
He  was  content  and  all  his  men  besyde  : 

,;    JTst^  trie  adueucures  by  my  fathers  guyde.  ib. 


32  Kin^  AWanacil^ 

They  cast  by  compasse  i-eSidy  way  to  finde :  fm»^»  ^^'r^l 

"Where  through  once  past  to  Northward  race  they  twinde, 

To  Pirene  cleeiies,  tweene  Spayne  and  France  the  bounde, 

Reioycing  neere  thepromist  lie  so  founde.^ 

Eke  ^  vnto  Guyne  in  France  they  sayled  thence, 

Where '  at  the  hauen  of  Loire  they  did  arriue,  **'^ 

To  vCwe  the  countrey  was  their  whole  pretence  '"• 

And  victayles  get,  their  son  Id  iers  to  reuiue.' 

Eke  CorincBUs  lest  the  Galles  shotild  striiie, 

Led  forth  two  hnndreth  of  bis  warlike  band, 

To  get  prouision  to  the  ships  from  land.  ''* 

^  -V    ',  37,  •  M-jjH  P-  •-  i^JiH  111 

But  when  the  King  Goffarius  lieard  of  this, 

ThatTroians  were  arriued  on  his  shore, 

With  Frenchmen  and  with  Guynes  their  power  and  hi», 

Hee  came  to  take  the  pray  they  gat  before, 

And  when  they  met,  they  fought  it  both  full  sore. 
Till  CorincBUs  rusht  into  their  band, 
And  caus'd  them  fly :  they  durst  no  longer  stand. 
.38. 

First  might  you  there  seene  hearts  of  Frenchmen  broke, 

Two  hundreth  Troians  gaue  them  all  the  foyle 

At  home,  with  oddes,  they  durst  not  byde  the  stroke, 

Fewe  Troians  beate  them  in  their  natiue  soyle. 

Eke  CorincEus  followed  in  this  broyle, 
So  fast  vpon  his  foes  before  his  men, 
That  they  return'd  and  thought  to  spoyle  him  then. 

39. 
There  hee  alone  against  them  all,  and  they 
Against  him  one,  with  all  their  force  did  fight, 

'  This  Stanza  not  in  tlie  first  edit.  ^  Then.  ib.  '  And,  ib. 

^  And  vitaylcs  for  their  men  and  them  atchiue.  ib. 


King  Albanactik  S9 

At  last  by  chaunce  his  sword  was  flowne  away, 

By  fortune  on  a  battayle  axe  hee  light,^ 

Which  hoe  did  driiie  alxjut  iiim  with  such  might, 

That  some  their  hands,  and  some  their  armes  did  leese, 

Some  legges,  of  some  the  head  from  shoulders  flees. 

40 
As  thus  amongst  them  all  hee  fought  with  force 
And  fortune  great,  in  d;iun;rer  of  hh  lyfe, 
Lord  Brutus^  had  on  him  therewith  remorce, 
Came  with  a  troupe  of  men  to  ende  the  strife. 
When  Frenchmen  saw  the  Troians  force  so  rife. 

They  fled  away,  vnto  their  losse  and  payne; 

In  fight  and  flight  nigh  all  their  host  was  slayne. 

41. 

And  in  that  broyle,  saue  Corinasus^  none 
Did  fight  so  fearcely,  as  did  Turnus  then  : 
Sir  Brutus*  cosin  with  his  sword  alone 
Did  sley  th  it  time  well  nigh  sixe  hundreth  men. 
They  founde  him  dead  as  they  returnM  agen, 

Amongst  the  Frenchmen,  wounded  voyde  of  sence, 

And  bare  his  noble  corps  with  honour  thence*. 

42. 
On  this  they  bode  awhile  reuenge  to  yeelde, 
And  to  interre  the  dead,  and  Turnus  slaine. 
They  tooke  a  towne  not  far  from  place  of  fielde,. 
And  built  it  strong,  to  vexe  the  Galles  agayne. 
The  name  they  gaue  it  still  doth  yet  remayne  :  ^ 

Sith  there  they  buried  Turnus,  yet  men  call 

It  Tours,  and  name  the  folke  Turones  all. 


*  By  fortune  on  an  halberde  then  be  light,  it). 
'  My  father,  ib.  *  My  father's,  ib. 


-voide  of  breath, 


Which-pincMmy  fathers  hart  as  pangs  of  death,  ib. 

D 


34  King  Albanact, 

43.  ♦'.  »H  i-j-f-+ 

"   Which  towne  they  left  at  last  with  Troians  raan'd, 
"When  as  their  ships  were  storde  with  what  they  neede 
Aboardc,  they  hoise  vp  sayles  and  left  the  land, 
By  ayding  windes  they  cut  the  seas  with  speede. 
At  length  the  shyning  Albion  clyues*  did  fecde 

Their  gazing  eyes,  by  meanes  whereof  they  fand 

Our  Totnes  hauen,  and  tooke  this  proraist  land. 

44. 
The  countrey  seemed  pleasaunt  at  the  vewe, 
And  was  by  fewe*  inhabited,  as  yet, 
Saue^  certaine  Giauntes  whom  they  did  pursue, 
Which  straight  to  Caues  in  Mountaines  did  thera  gti  j 
So  fine  were  Woods,  and  Flouds,  and  Fountaincs  set. 

So  clearc  the  ayre,  so  temperate  the  clime, 

They  neuer  saw  the  like  before  that  time". 

45. 
And  then  this  He  that  Albion  had  io  name, 
Lord  Brutus  caus'd  it  Britaine  cal'd  to  bee,*  m^A  luHl 

And  eke  the  people  Britans  of  the  same, 
As  yet  in  auncient  Recordes  is  to  see. 
To  Corinaus  <faue  hee  franke  and  free 

The  land  of  Cornwall,  for  his  seruice  don,  '. 

And  for  because  from  Giauntes  hee  it  won.  '^ 

iQ. 
Then  sith  our  Troiane  flock  came  first  from  Troy, 
The  Chiefetaine^  thought  that  duty  did  him  binde, 
As'  Fortune  thus  had  sau'd  him  from  anoy. 
The  auncient  towne  againe  to  call  to  minde. 

♦  Cleeues.  N.  '  None.  ed.  1575.  *  But.  ib. 

'  My  father  had  no  cause  but  like  it  well 
And  gaue  his  souldiers  places  in  to  dwell,  ib. 

*  My  father  caused  Britavnc  called  bee.  ib. 
»  My  father,  ib.  •  Sith.  ib. 


-  King  Albanactij^  35^ 

Hee  builte  new  Troy,  them  Troian  lawes  assignde, 

That  so  his  race,*  to  his  eternall  fame,  ._^.  j     i^.r 

mi  '  !WOf  drvnl  rtr 

Might  keepe  of  Troy  the  euerlasting  name'. 

47. 

And  setled  there,  in  perfect  peace  and  rest, 

Deuoid  of  warre,  of  laboure,  strife,  orpaine, 

Then  lunogen  the  Queene  his'*  ioyes  increast, 

A  Prince  shee  bare,  and  after  other  twaine, 

Was  neuer  King  of  noble  Impes^  so  faine. 

Three  sonnes  which  had  so  shortly  here  begat,*^ 

Locrinus,  Camber,  last  mee  Albanact, 

48. 
Thus  hauing  wealth,  and  eke  the  world  at  will. 
Nor  wanting  ought  that  might  his  rainde  content, 
T' increase  his  powre  with  wights  of  warlike  skill    'Jj>tf>''i««?i;>.ijR 
Was  all  his  rainde  his  purpose  and  intent.  ^  ^vm^w-^iS^ 

Whereby  if  foes  inuasion  after  ment. 

The  Britans  might  not  feare  of  forraine  lands,     '*i4  aii  tvuM  iMf 

But  keepe  by  fight  possessions  in  their  hands.  -30(3 

49. 
Eke'  when  his  people  once  perceiu'd  his  minde, 
(As  what  the  Prince  doth  often  most  embrace, 
To  that  the  subiects  all  are  straight  inclinde. 
And  reuerence  still  in  eche  respect  his  grace) 
They  gat  in  warre  such  knowledge  in  short  space, 

That  after  they  their  force  to  try  begon. 

They  car'd  for  nought  by  wit  or  wight  not  won. 

*  Whereby  his  stock,  ib. 

3  "  Brute  the  fyrst  King  of  Brytons,  bylded  &  edefyed  this  cyte  of  London, 
the  fyrst  cyte  of  Brytayn,  in  reinembraunce  of  the  cyte  of  Troye,  that  was  des- 
troyed, and  called  it  Troyenewelh  and  Trinouantum,  that  is  newe  Troye." 
Trevisa^s  Polychronkon.     B.  1.  G  .xlvii 

*  Then  eke  my  mother  all  his,  &c.  ed,  1575.  ^  Of  childreu  erste.  ib. 

*  Three  sonnes  because  of  Innogen  he  gate.  ib.  '  Then.  ib. 

D  2 


36  Kins  Albanact, 

50. 

They  jrot  ofgiaunfs  mountaines  whence  <hey  came, 
And  woo:ls  from  wherfce  they  oft  matle  wise,  they  would 
Dc>froy  j?n:l  kill,  when  voyage  out  they  frame, 
Or  shewde  (hemselues  in  banding  ouer  bold  : 
Then  straiglit  the  Britans,  gladder  then  of  gold, 
Wore  ready  still  to  fighte  at  euery  call. 
Till  time  they  had  extynct  the  monsters  all.  * 

51. 
Whereby  the  King  had  cause  to  take  delight. 
And  might  bee  bolde  the  lesse  to  feare  his  foes : 
Perdy  '  ech  Prince  may  recke  his  enmtes  spight^ 
Thereafter  as  his  force  in  fight  hee  knoes. 
A  princely  heart  the  liberall  gifts  disclose. 

He  gaue  io  eche  such  guerdons  for  their  facts, 
As  might  them  only  raooue  to  noble  acts. 

52. 
No  labours  great  his  subiects  then  refusde, 
No  trauayles  that'niight  like  his  regall  minde  : 
But  ech  of  them  such  exercise  well  vs'd. 
Wherein  was  praise,  or  glory  great  to  finde. 
And  to  their  liege  bar**  faithfull  hearts  so  kinde, 
That  what  hee  wild  they  all  obeyd  his  best, 
Nought  else  was  currant  but  y*  Kings  request. 

53. 
What  Prince  aliue  might  more  reioyce  then  hee  ? 
Had  faithfull  men, so  valiaunt,  bold,  and  stoutf 
What  pleasures  more  on  earth  could  lightly  bee 

•  Those  mightie  people  borne  of  Giants  broo(^    ^ 
That  did  po'-ses'ie  tins  Ocean-bounded  land, 
Thev  did  Mibdue,  who  oft  in  battell  stood 
Gainst  them  in  tiild.  rntill  by  force  of  hand 
Tliey  were  muHe  suliiect  vnto  Brutex  coininaad. 
Such  boldnes  thou  did  in  the  Briton  dwell, 
That  tbcy  in  deedes  of  valour  did  excelL  H. 
»  Surely.  N. 


King  Alhanact,  57 

Then  win  an  lie,  and  Hue  deuoyde  of  doubt  ,^  KtwoBmlo 
An  Ilesayd  I  ?  nay  naiu'd  the  world  throughout 

Another  world,  sith  sea  doth  it  deuide 

From  all,  that  wants  not  all  the  world  beside. 

64. 
What  subiec<s  eke  more  happy  were  then  these  ? 
Had  such  a  King  of  such  a  noble  heart, 
And  such  a  land  enioyde  and  liu'd  at  ease, 

Whereof  ech  man  almost  might  chose  his  part  ?  > 

No  feare  of  foes,  vnknowne  was  treason's  art, 

Nofayning  friends,  no  fawning  Gnatoes  skill, 

No  Thrasoes  brags,  but  bearing  ech  good  will.  . 

55.  '  y 

But  as  ech  sommer  once  receaues  an  ende, 

And  as  no  state  can  stable  stande  for  aye, 

As  course  of  time  doth  cause  thinges  bowe  and  bend, 

As  euery  pleasure  hath  hir  ending  daye, 

As  will  can  neuer  passe  the  power  of  maye  : 

Euen  so  my  father,  happy  dayes  that  spent, 

Perceau'd  he  must  by  sicknesse  last  relent. 

56. 
As  doth  the  shipman  well  foresee  the  storme. 
And  knowes  what  daunger  lyes  in  Syrtes  of  sand  : 
Eke  as  the  husbandman  prouides  beforne, 
When  hee  perceaues  the  winter  cold  at  hand  : 
Euen  so  the  wise,  that  course  of  things  haue  scan'd, 

Can  well  the  end  of  sicknes  great  presage, 

When  it  is  ioyn'd  with  yeares  of  stooping  age 
-:'^-'-r        57. 
His  sonnes  and  Counsaile  all  assembled  were : 
For  why  hee  s^nt  for  vs  and  them  with  speede. 
Wee  came  in  hast,  thisnewes  vs  caused  feare. ' 

<•*.   4x»3Ae  MB  lOuiAV  to  89bs»jtv  II, 

»  Did  cause  vs  feare.    N» 


So  King  Alhanact. 

Sith  so  hee  sent,  wee  tlionght  him  sicke  indeede.  * 
And  when  wee  all  approacht  to  him  with  heede,  * 

Too  soone  alas,  his  grace  liglit  sicke  we  found, 

And  Iiim  saluted  as  our  duties  bound. 

58. 

And  casting  of  his  woefull  •♦  ryes  aside, 

Not  able  well  to  mooue  his  paincfull  head, 

As  silent  wee  with  teares  liis  minde  abide, 

Hee  wil'd  himsclfe  bee  reared  in  his  bed. 

Which  done,  with  sight  of  vs  his  eyes  hee  fed, 
Eke  pawsing  so  a  while  for  breath  hee  stayd. 
At  length  to  them  and  vsthiis  wise  bee  sayd. 

59. 
**  No  maruaile  sure,  though  you  herewith  bee  sad, 
(You  noble  Britaines)  for  your  Brutus*  sake. 
Sith  whilom  meeyour  captaine  stout  you  had, 
That  now  my  leaue  and  last  farwell  must  take. 
Thus  nature  willes  race  once  an  ende  to  make, 
And  leaue  you  here  behinde,  which  after  mee 
Shall  die,  as  mce '  departe  before  you  see, 

'*  You  wot  wherefore  I  with  the  Grajcians  fought, 

With  dinte  of  sworde  1  made  their  force  to  fly : 

Antenor's  friends  on  Tuscane  shores  1  sought, 

And  did  thcm^  not  my  promist  land  deny, 

^y  Martiall  powre  I  made  tlic  Frenclimen  fly, 

Where  you  to  saue  I  lost  my  faithfull  frende. 

For  you,  at  Tours,  my  2\(rnus  tooke  his  ende. 

CI. 

*'  I  neede  not  now  recite  what  loue  1  bare. 

My  friendship  you,  1  trust,  haue  found  so  well, 

^  His  coun9!i)'le  all  and  wee  assembled  were, 
To  bid  vs  iiie,or  hante  there  was  no  nede. 
Wee  went  with  tliein,  ihisnewes  v»  caused  fcare 
Sitli  so  he  hent,  he  wa«  not  well  in  dede,  &c.  ed.  1575. 
'  Speed,  ib.  ♦  Doulfuli.  ib.  '  L  ib.  ^  You.  ib. 


Kifig  A  lbana<:i ,  39 

That  none  amongst  you  all  which  present  are, 
With  teares  doth  not  record  the  tale  I  tell. 
Eke  whom  I  found  for  vertues  to  exccll, 

To  them  I  gaue  the  price  thereof,  as  due 

As  they  deseru'd,  whose  facts  I  found  so  true. 

62. 
*'  Now  must  1  proue,  if  paines  were  wel  bestow 'd, 
Or  if  1  spent  my  gratefull  gifts  in  vayne, 
Or  if  these  great  good  turns  to  you  I  ow'd, 
And  might  not  aske  your  loyall  loues  againe : 
Which  if  I  wist,  what  tongue  could  tell  my  paine  ? 

1  meane,  if  you  vngratefull  mindes  doe  beare, 

What  meaneth  death  to  let  mee  linger  here  ? 

63. 
**  For  if  you  shall  abuse  your  Prince  in  this, 
The  gods  on  you  for  such  an  haynous  fact  , 

To  take  reuenge  bee  sure  will  neuer  misse. 
And  then  to  late  you  shall '  repent  the  act. 
When  all  my  Realrae,  and  all  your  wealthes  are  sackt : 

But  if  you  shall,  as  you  begon,  proeeede,  -'•» 

Of  kingdomes  fall  or  foes  there  is  no  dreede. 

)Ji-r.r^t  64. 

"  And  to  auoyde  contention  tliat  may  fall, 
Because  I  wishe  this  Realme  the  Britans  still. 
Therefore  1  will  declare  before  you  all, 
Sith  you  are  come,  my  whole  intent  and  will : 
Which  if  you  keepe,  and  wrest  it  not  to  ill. 

There  is  no  doubt  but  euermore  with  fame 

You  shall  enioy  the  Britans  Realme  and  name. 

63. 

'*  You  see  my  sonnes,  that  after  mee  must  raigne, 

Whom  you  or  this  liaue  lik'd  and  counsail'd  well. 

You  know  what  erst  you  wisht  they  should  refraine, 

..Ji  .f  ...,^.Will.  ib. 
1 


40  King  AlbanacL 

Which  way  they  might  all  vices  vile  ex  pell, 
"Which  way  they  might  in  vertues  great  excell. 

Thus  if  you  shall,  when  I  am  gone  insue, 

You  shall  discharge  the  trust  repos'd  in  you. 

66. 
"  Bee  you  their  fathers,  with  your  counsaile  wise, 
And  you  ray  children  take  them  euen  as  mee 
Bee  you  their  guides  in  what  you  can  deuiso, 
And  lot  their  good  instructions  teach  you  three  : 
Bee  faith  full  all :  as  brethren  ought  agree  : 

For  concord  keeps  a  Realme  in  stable  stay  : 

But  discord  brings  all  kingdomes  to  decay. 

67. 
**  Recorde  you  this :  to  th'  eldest*  sonne  I  giue 
This  Middle  parte  of  Realme  to  holde  his  owne, 
And  to  his  hev  res  that  after  him  shall  liue  : 
Also  to  Camber,  that  his  part  beeknowne, 
I  giue  that  land  that  lyeswelnigh  oregrowne 

With  woodes,  Nortliwest,  and  mountaines  mighty  hye, 

By  South  whereof  the  Cornish  sea  doth  lye.  "^ 

68. 
**  And  vnto  thee  my  yongest  sonne,  that  art  g 

Mine  Albanad^  I  giue  to  thee  likewise 
As  much  to  bee  for  thee  and  thine  apart, 
As  North  beyonde  the  arrae  of  sea  there  lyes, 
Of  which  loe  heere  a  Mappe  before  your  eyes. 

Loe  heere  my  sonnes  my  kingdome  all  you  haue. 

For  which  (remember)  nought  but  this  1  craue : '° 

69. 
**  First,  that  you  take  these  fathers  graue  for  mee, 
Imbrace  their  counsaile  euen  as  it  were  mine  : 
Next,  that  betweene  yourselues  you  will  agree, 

*  Record  to  this  mine  eldest,  &c.  ib. 

*  Twene  this  and  that  t  lie  Slulia  Streame  doth  lie.  ib. 
'°  For  which  I  nought  but  this  remember  craue.  ib. 


King  Alhanact.  ^\ 

And  neuer  one  at  others  wealth  repine, 

See  thit  jeebide  still  bounde  with  friendly  line  : 

And  last,  my  snbiects  with  such  lone  retaine, 

As  loFig  tliey  may  your  subiects  eke  remayne. 

70. 

**  Now  faint, '  T  feele  ray  breath  begins  to  fayle, 

My  time  is  come,  giue  eohe  to  mee  your  hand : 

Farewell,  farewell,  to  raonrne  will  noi  preuayle, 

1  sre  with  Ktiife  where  Afr.'pos  doth  stand  : 

Farewell  my  friendes,  my  children  and  my  land, 
And  farewell  all  my  subiectes,  farewell  breath, 
Farewell  ten  thowsand  times,  and  welcome  death." 

71. 

And  enen  with  that  hee  tnrnde  himselfe  asyde, 
Vpyeelding-,  gasping  gaue  *  away  the  ghost : 
Then  all  with  mourning  voyce  his  seruantes  cry'd,  ' 
And  all  his  subiectes  eke,  from  least  to  most. 
Lamenting  fil'd  with  wayling  plaintes  *  ech  coast, 

Perdy  ^the  Britans,  all  as  nature  bent,  * 

Did  for  their  King  full  dolefully  lament.  ^'^ 

72. 
But  what  auayles,  to  striue  against  the  tide. 
Or  else  to  driue ''  against  the  streame  and  winde  ? 
W  hat  booteth  it  against  the  Cliues  to  ride, 
Or  else  to  worke  against  the  course  of  kinde  ? 
Sith  Nature  hath  the  endeof  thinges  assih'd. 

There  is  no  nay,  wee  must  perforce  depart, 

Gainst  dinte  of  death  there  is  no  ease  by  arte.* 

'  Loe  niw.  ib.  *  And  gasped  thryse  and  gaue.  ib. 

'  Then  all  at  once  with  mourning  vojce  they  cryde.  ib.  ♦  Twires.  llvl 

*  And  so.  N-  •*  All  with  one  assent,  ed.  1575.  'S»yle.ib.     t^- 

'  This  stanza  follows  itt  edit.  1575,  -.    ■:  v^  f f  ^    ^   %-yv  . 

As  custome  wild  wee  funerals  preparde,  ril  ' 

And  ail  with  mourning  cloathes,  and  cbere  did  come,  J  < 


2  Kifis^  Alhanacl. 


73. 
Thus  raign'd  that  worthy  King,  that  founde  this  land, 
My  father  Brutus,  of  the  Troiau  bloud, 
And  thus  hee  died  when  hee  full  well  had  man'd 
This  noble  Realme  with  Britans  fearce  and  good. 
And  so  a  while  in  stable  state  it  stood, 

Till  wee  deuided  had  this  Realme  in  three, 

And  I  to  soone  receiu'd  my  part  to  mee. 

74. 
Then  straight  through  all  the  world  gan  Fame  to  fly, 
A  monster  swifter  none  is  vndcr  Sunne  : 
Encreasing  as  in  waters  wee  descry 
The  circles  small,  of  nothing  thatbegunne, 
Which  at  the  length  vnto  such  breadth  doe  come, 

That  of  a  drop,  which  from  the  skies  doth  fall, 

The  circles  spread,  and  hyde  the  waters  all : 

75. 
So  fame  in  flight  increaseth  more  and  more  :  ..^ 

For  at  the  first  she  is  not  scarcely  knowne,  !**f!r\ 

But  by  and  by  she  fleets'^  from  shore  to  shore. 
To  cloudes  from  th'  earth  her  stature  straight  isgrownc  : 
There  whatsoeuer  by  her  trompe  is  blowne,  ^•^ 

The  sounde  that  both  by  sea  and  land  out  flies, 

Reboundes  againe,  and  verberates  the  skies. 

76. 
They  say  the  earth,  that  first  the  Giauntes  bred, 
For  anger  that  the  gods  did  them  dispatch. 
Brought  forth  this  sister,  of  those  n^onstes^  dead. 

To  laye  this  king  on  beere  we  had  regarde, 
In  royall  sort,  as  did  his  corps  become, 
His  Herce  prepard,  we  brought  liim  to  his  tombe^ 
At  Troynouant  he  built,  where  he  did  dye, 
Was  he  eutombde,hib  royall  corps  doth  lye. 


King  AlbanMt.  43 

Full  lighfe  of  foote,  swifte  winges  tlie  windes  to  catch  ; 
Such  monster  erst  did  nature  ncupr  hatch. 

As  many  Plumes  shce  hath  from  top  to  toe, 

So  many  eyes  them  vnderwatch,  or  moe. 

77. 

And  tongues  doe  speake,  so  many  eares  doe  harke. 

By  night  tweene  heauen  she  flies  and  earthly  shade, 

And  shreakin;^,  takes  no  quiet  sleepe  by  darke  : 

On  houses  rowfes,  on'  towres  as  keeper  made 

Shee  sits  by  day,  and  Cities  threats  t'  inuade : 
And  as  she  tells  what  things  shee  sees  by  vewe, 
Shee  rather  shewes  that's  fayned  felse,  then  true. 

She  blazde  abroade  perdy  a  people  small,* 
Late '  landed  heere,  and  founde  this  pleasaunt  He, 
And  how  that  now  it  was  deuided  all, 
Made  tripartite,  ^  and  might  within  a  while 
Bee  won  by  foree,  by  treason,  fraud,  or  guile. 

Wherefore  she  mooues  her  frendes  to  make  assay 

To  win  the  price,  and  beare  our  pompe  away. 

79. 
A  thowsand  things  besides  shee  bruits  and  tells, 
And  makes  the  most  of  euery  thing  shee  heares 
Long  time  of  vs  shee  talkes,  and  nothing  els, 
lEke  what  shee  secth  abroade  in  haste  shee  beares. 
With  tatling  toyes,  and  tickleth  so  their  eares. 

That  needes  they  must  to  flattering  fame  assent, 

Though  afterw4r^s  they  doe  therefore  lament. 

80. 

By  East  from  hence  a  countrey  large  doth  lye, 

Hungaria  eke  of  Ilimnes  it  hath  to  name. 

And  hath  Danubius'  floud  on  South  itbje, 

*  Or.  ib.  *  This  fame  declarde  that  euen  a  people  small,  ib. 

^  Had.  ib.  ♦  Into  three  parts,  ib. 


44  King  Albanact, 

Deuiding  quite  from  Austria  the  same. 

From  thence  a  king  was  named  /lumber  came  : 

On  coastes  of  Albany  aniued  hee, 

In  hope  this  king  of  Briton  for  to  bee.* 

81. 
Which  when  by  postes*  of  subiects  I  did  heare 
How  enmies'  were  arriued  on  my  shore, 
I  gathered  all  my  souldiers  voyde  of  fi'are, 
And  backe  the  JIunnes  by  force  and  might  1  bore. 
But  in  this  battaile  was  I  hurt  so  sore, 

That  in  the  fielde  of  woundes  1  had  I  dide, 

Where  souldiers  lost  their  noble  prince  and  guide.' 

82. 
Such  was  my  fate  to  venture  on  so  bolde, 
My  rashnesse  was  the  cause  of  all  my  woe  : 
Such  is  of  all  our  glory  vaine  the  holde, 
So  soone  wee  pompe  and  pleasures  all  forgoe, 
So  quickly  are  wee  reft  our  kingdomes  froe, 

And  such  is  all  the  cast  of  Fortune's  play. 

When  least  wee  thinke  to  cut  vs  quite  away.  ^ 

83.  J 

I  deem*d  my  selfe  an  heauenly  happy  wight,  ™, 

When  once  1  had  my  part  to  raigne  within : 
But  see  the  chaunce  what  hap  did  after  light, 
Or  1  could  scarce  t'inioy  my  glee  begin. 
This  Hunne  did  seeke  from  mee  my  realme  io  win. 

And  had  his  will :  O  flattering  fortune,  iye, 

W  hat  meanest  thou  to  make  thy  selfe  so  slye :' 

-did  he  arriue. 


il 
k 


/ 


In  hope  this  lande  of  Briwyne  to  atchiue.  ib. 
In  hope  to  bee  the  King  of  Britante>  N. 

,9tA  When  by  report.  N.  '  Foe-men.  N. 

t  *  And  left  my  men  as  flockes  without  a  guide,  ed.  1575* 

. of  deadly  wounds  I  dide. 

My  souldiers  lost  their  noble  prince  and  guide.  K. 
*  To  trorke  with  princes  slye.  ed.  1575. 


King  Albanact.  4.3 

84. 
You  worthy  warriours  learne  by  race,  beware,* 
Let  wisedome  worke,  lay  rasbnesse  all  aparte, 
Wlien  as  with  enraies  you  encountred  are, 
You  must  endeuoure  all  your  skilfull  arte, 
By  witty  wiles  with  force  to  make  your  marte. 

Wit  nought  auayles  late  bought  with  care  and  cost, 

To  late  it  comes  when  life  and  all  is  lost.* 

L'ENVOY^ 

1. 

Mvsing  on  these  thinges  1  cal'd  to  my  minde, 
In  historyes  what  I  of  Iroia  read? 
And  what  oi  Brutus  I  in  bookcs  did  finde 
Likewise  I  cast,  and  counted  in  my  head. 
1  found  that  Albanact  stoode  race  in  stead. 

For  why,  Sicilians  right  this  noble  man 

Calles  Lestri/gons,  as  they  were  named  than. 

2. 
Lestrt/go  was,  perdy,  Neptunus'  sonne^^ 
To  whom  his  father  gaue  that  noble  He : 
And  of  his  name  the  people  there  did  wonne. 
The  writers  false  abus'd  vs  then  long  while, 
Which  set  vs  dowue  ofLeogece  an  He, 

*  By  my  fall  beware.  N. 

*  If  you  repent  when  life  and  labours  lost, 

TUE    AUTHOUR. 

With  that  the  wounded  Prince  departed  quite, 

From  5it!;ht  he  slinchte,  I  sawe  his  shade  no  more, 

But  Morpheus  bade  remember  this  to  write, 

And  th<  rewithall  presented  mee  before 

A  wij^ht  wet  droi)ping  from  the  water's  shore, 

In  princely  weede,  but  like  a  warhke  man. 

And  thus  mee  thought  his  story  he  began. 
^  The  author's  continuation,  as  in  first  edition,  is  given  in  the  preceding  note. 
NicoUs  uniformly  rejected  these  connecting  lines  of"  tiie  authour"  as  well  al 
these  of  the  iater  edition  entitied  "  LVrnvoy.^' 


46  King  Alhanact 

So  neere  Italia  strandes  was  placed  than, 
To  which  Lord  Brutus  came,  that  noble  man. 

3. 
Of  LestvT/gon  that  Ilande  first  tooke  name, 
As  Alhanact  hath  well  recited  heere. 
But  of  king  Humher  see  what  nowe  became, 
Which  after  him  next  haplesse  did  appeare 
"With  Armoure  wet,  as  drencht  hce  lately  were : 
So  downe  his  greaues  the  water  tricklinges  ran, 
While  he  this  wise  his  woefull  tale  began. 


i4 


j«a 


*no1t98 


HOW    HVMBER    THE 

king  of  Hunnes  minding  to  conquer  Bri- 

taine,  laas  drowned  in  the  arme  of  sea  now  called  Hum" 

beTy  about  theyeere  before  Christ. 

1085. 

I. 

J  HOUGH  yet  no  foraine  Princes  in  this  place 
Haue  come  to  tell  their  haplesse  great  mishap, 
Yet  give  mee  leaue  a  while  to  pleade  my  case, 
And  shewe  how  1  slipt  out  of  Fortunes  lap. 
Perchaunce  some  other  will  eschewe  the  trap 

Wherein  I  fell,  and  both  themselues  beware, 

And  also  seeke  the  lesse  their'  countreyes  care. 

2. 
I  am  that  Humher  king  of  Hunnes.^  that  came 
To  win  this  llande  from  the  Britaynes  fell : . 
Was  drownde  in  Humher^  where  I  left  my  name  : 
A  iust  reward  for  him  that  liu'd  so  well 
At  home,  and  yet  thought  others  to  exrpell 
Both  from  theyr  realme  or  right :  well  seru'd  was  I,  * 

That  by  ambition  thought  to  clime  so  hye.  * 

3. 
But  I  must  blame  report,  the  chiefest  cause 
Of  my  decaye  :  beware  of  rashe  report : 
Tis  wisdome  first  to  take  a  whyle  a  pause, 
Before  to  dint  of  daungers  you  resort : 
Least  when  you  come  in  haste  to  scale  the  fort, 
^y  rashe  assault  some  engine  shaft  or  fire 
Dispatche  you  quite,  or  make  you  soone  retire. 

*  Thy.  1575. 

*  Both  from  their  realme  and  tight:  O  filthy  fye  1 

On  such  ambition  earst  as  rsed  I.  ib. 


48  King  Humber, 

4. 

For  vnto  race  the  rumours  daye'y  flewe, 
That  here  a  noble  Ilande  mia^ht  be  wontie : 
Tlie  king  was  dead:  ik>  warres  the  people  knewc, 
And  eke  themselues  to  stryu  •  at  hoiiiebegon. 
It  were  (quoth  I)  a  nobh'  acte  well  don 

To  win  it  then  :  and  therewilliall  did  make 

Prouision  good,  this  famous  lie  to  take, 

5. 
A  warlike  regall  campe  prouided  was, 
And  shippes,  and  vittayle,  for  my  Hunnes  and  mee, 
By  sea  to  Britm/ne  conquest  for  to  passe, 
If  Gods  thereto  or  heauenly  starres  agree. 
At  length  wee  came  to  shores  o^  Albany,  :^^Tr  ' 

And  there  to  fight  with  Britaynes  pitched  our  fielde, 

In  hope  to  make  them  flinche,  flye,  fall,  or  yeelde. 

6. 
They  met  vs,  long  wee  fcarcely  fought  it  out, 
And  doubtfull  was  the  victours  part  of  twaine : 
Till  with  my  Hunnes  I  rusht  among  the  route, 
And  fought  till  that  King  Albanact  was  slayne. 
Then  they  to  yeelde  or  pardon  craue  were  fayne. 

And  I  with  triumphes  great  receau'd  the  pray, 

And  marched  forward,  flesht  with  such  a  fraye. 

7. 
I  past  an  arme  of  sea,  that  would  to  God 
1  neuer  had  bin  halfe  so  bold  at  fyrst, 
I  made,  to  beate  mysdfe  \vitha!l,a  rod. 
When  soHvithout^  they r  real :Tie  1  venture  durst, 
But  marke  my  tale,  thou  heard'st  not  yet  the  worst ; 
As  sure  I  thought  the  rest  to  circumuent 
Bj  spyes  before,  they  knewe  my  whole  intent. 

'  Within,  ik 


r 


±i 


ing  Ilumher,  49 

And  or  I  wyst,  when  I  was  come  to  lande,  . 
Not  farre  from  shore  two  Princes  were  preparJe, 
Theyr  scouts  conueyed  away  my  ships  they  fande, 
And  of  my  sli  ipmens  fleshe  they  noth  ing  sparde. 
To  rescue  which,  as  backe  agyane  1  far'ile, 

The  armyes  twayne  were  at  my  heeles  behinde,  5" 

So  clos'd  nice  in,  I  w  ist  no  way  to  windc. 

■  9.     f.n*'rfQ  --nm«'i  Mbt;'^'  -^jlfh- 
On  th'  East  Locrinus  with  an  armie  great, 
By  West  was  Camhre  with  an  other  band  : 
By  North  an  arme  of  sea  the  shoares  did  beat, 
Which  conipast  mee  and  mine  within  their  lande. 
No  way  to  scape  was  there  but  Water  fande, 

Which  I  must  taste,  or  else  the  sworde  of  those 

Which  were  to  mee  and  mine  full  deadly  foes. 

10. 
So  when  I  sawe  the  best  of  all  mine  hoste 
Beate  downe  with  bats,  shot,  slayne,  or  forst  to  swimme, 
Myselfe  was  fayne  likewise  to  flye  the  coast, 
And  with  the  rest  the  waters  entred  in, 
A  simple  shift  for  Princes  to  begin. 

Yet  farre  I  deem'd  it  better  so  to  dye 

Then  at  mine  enmies  foot  an  abiect  lye. 

11. 

But  when  I  thus  had  swam  with  hope  to  scape, 
If  I  might  wend  the  water  waues  to  passe : 
The  Britannes  that  before  my  ships  had  gate 
Gan  watche  mee,  where  amidst  the  surge  I  was. 
Than  with  my  boates  they  rowde  to  mee  (alas) 

And  all  they  crydekeepe  Humbert  keepe  theyr  King, 

That  to  our  Prince  wee  may  the  tray  tour  bring. 

E 


50  King  Hurnher, 

12. 

So  with  ray  boats  beset,  poore  Humber  1 

Wist  no  refuge,  my  weery  armes  did  ake, 

My  breath  was  short,  I  had  no  powre  to  crye, 

Or  place  to  stande,  whyle  I  my  playnte  might  make. 

The  water  colde  made  all  my  ioynts  to  shake, 

My  lieart  did  bea.tc  with  sorowe,  grief'e,  and  payne, 
,  And  downe  my  cheeks  salt  teares  they  gusht  amayne. 

J3. 
O  must  thou  ycelde,  and  shall  thy  boats  betraye 
Tliy  sell'e  f quoth  I)  no  mercy  Brita/jnes  haue  : 

0  would  to  God  I  might  escape  away, 

1  wot  not  yet  if  pardon  1  may  craue. 
Although  my  deeds  deserue  no  life  to  haue. 

1  will,  1  nill,  death,  bondage,  beast  am  I, 
In  waters  thus,  in  forayne  soyle  to  dye. 

14. 
With  that  I  clapt  my  quauering  hands  abroade, 
And  heldethem  vp  to  heauen,and  thus  I  sayde  : 
O  Gods  that  knowe  the  paynes  that  1  haue  bode, 
And  iust  rcuengeinent  of  my  rashnes  payde. 
And  of  the  death  oi'  Albanact  betrayde 

By  mee  and  mine,  I  yeelde  my  life  therefore, 

Content  to  dye,  and  never  greeue  yee  more. 

15. 
Then  straight  not  opening  of  my  handes,  I  bowde 
My  selfe,  and  set  my  head  my  armes  betweene : 
And  downe  I  sprang  with  all  the  force  I  coulde. 
So  duckte,  that  neither  head  nor  foote  were  scene, 
And  neuer  sawe  my  foes  agayne  I  weene : 

There  was  1  drownde :  the  Britaynes^  io  my  fame, 

Yet  call  that  arme  of  sea  by  Humberts  name.  * 

'  The  ttnry  of  Humber  is  narrated  according  to  the  principal  authorities.    It  is 
•omewhat  diiTerent  in  the  Chronicle  of  St  Albans,  which  sa^s:  "  so  itbefel  that 


King  Humber,  51 

16. 
Take  lieede  by  race,  let  my  presumption  serue, 
And  let  my  folly,  fall,  and  rashnes,  bee 
A  glasse  wherein  to  see  if  thou  do  swerue. 
Thou  maystthy  selfe  perceiue  somwhat  by  mee, 
Let  neither  trust,  nor  treason,  trayne  forth  yee, 

But  bee  content  with  thine  estate,  so  shall 

No  wrath  of  God  procure  thy  haplesse  fall. 

17. 
If  thou  bee  foraine,  bide  with  in  thy  soyle 
That  God  hath  giuen  to  thee  and  thine  to  holde, 
If  thou  oppression  meane,  beware  the  foyle, 
Beare  not  thy  selfe  of  thee  or  thine  to  bolde, 
Or  of  the  feates  thy  elders  did  of  olde. 

For  God  is  iust,  iniustice  will  not  thriue : 

Hee  plagues  the  proude,  preserues  the  good  aliue.  ^ 

this  Kynge  Humbar  was  bcsyde  a  water  that  was  a  great  riuer  with,  his 
folke  for  to  dysporie  hym.  And  there  came  Lotrin  and  Camber  with  theyr  foike 
sodaynly  or  that  ony  of  the  other  boost  knew  of  them.  And  whan  Humbar  dyde 
se  them  come  in  aray  he  was  sore  adrad,  for  as  moche  as  his  men  wyst  it  not  a 
fore ;  and  also  that  they  were  vnarmed.  And  a  none  Humbar  for  drede  iept  i  to 
ye  water  and  drowned  hymselfe,  and  so  he  deyed.  And  his  men  were  all  slayne 
in  so  moche  that  there  escaped  not  one  away  on  lyue.  And  therefore  is  that 
water  called  Hubar  and  euer  more  shall  be,  whyie  the  worlde  is  world." 

*  The  AuTHOt;RE. 
Then  vanishte.  Humber,  and  no  sooner  gon 
Was  he  but  straiiiht  in  place  before  me  came, 
A  princely  wight  had  complet  harnesse  on, 
Though  not  so  complet  as  they  now  do  frame: 
He  seemde  sometime  t'aue  bene  of  worthy  fame. 
In  breste  a  shafte  with  bleeding  wounde  he  bare, 
And  thus  be  told  the  cause  of  all  his  care.  ed.  1575> 


## 


52  King  Humber, 

LENVOY. 

Was  not  this  drenched  king  well  servde  thinke  you, 
That  could  not  byde  at  home  content  with  his  ? 
Now  by  his  fall  and  his  ambition  vewe, 
What  good  they  get  which  gaze  on  Fortune's  blisse, 
How  soone  their  haps  and  hoped  loyes  they  misse, 
Wherefore  the  setled  minde  surmountes  the  rest, 
The  meane  contented  state  of  all  is  best. 

2. 
The  conquest  wonne,  and  kingdome  got,  you  sec 
The  Albaynes  all  subdude  to  Humberts  crowne  : 
Yet  straight  againe  the  straunger  drownde  to  bee, 
To  leese  his  conquest,  kingdomes,  and  renowme. 
Sith  Fortune  so  sets  vp  and  thirleth  downe. 
The  setled  minde  content  I  counte  is  blest, 
Reporting  true  the  golden  meane  is  best. 

3. 
Loe  how  vaine  glory  causde  him  venter  life, 
By  seas  to  sayle,  by  land  in  fielde  to  fighte,  ^ 
In  peace  at  home  abroade  to  fish  for  strife. 
And  here  confesse  how  Sors  had  sowst  him  right. 
But  king  Locrinus  next  apearde  in  sight. 
A  shaft  hee  bare  in  wounded  bleeding  brest. 
And  thus  (mee  thought)  his  fatall  fall  exprest. 

'  A  line  as  vigorous  and  musical  as  Drydcn. 


i  JasuqqA 


53 

HOW  KING  LOCRINVS 

the  eldest  sonne  of  Brutus  liued  vitiously, 

and  was  slalne  in  battaile  by  his  zoyfe  Queene 

Guendoline,  the  yeere  before  Christ. 

1061. 

1. 

J  F  euer  anj  noble  Prince  might  rue 

His  facts  are  past,  long  since  the  same  may  I,  ^ 

That  would  to  God  it  were  not  farre  to  true,  \ 

Or  that  I  iustly  could  ray  faultes  deny. 

The  trueth  of  thingcs  the  end  or  time  dotli  trie, 

As  well  by  mee  is  seene  :  my  haplesse  fall 

Declares  whence  came  my  great  misfortunes  all. 

2. 
1  am  Locrinus,  second  Britayne  king, 
The  eldest  sonne  of  him  that  found  this  lande : 
Whose  death  to  mee  my  mischiefes  all  did  bring, 
And  causde  why  first  I  tooke  my  death  in  hand. 
Hee  chiefly  wil'd  mee  when  hee  gaue  this  land, 

I  should  bee  rulde  by  all  his  counsailes  will, 

And  vse  their  iudgements  in  my  dealings  still. 

3. 
But  what  doe  I  accuse  my  father's  hest, 
What  meane  I  here  th'  unfaulty  for  to  blame : 
All  hee  comraaunded  euen  was  for  the  best, 
Though  in  effect  of  best  the  worst  became. 
So  thinges  oft  times  well  ment  vnfitly  frame. 

So  oftentimes  the  counsayle  of  our  frend 

Apparent  good  falls  faulty  in  the  end. 

*  My  haplesse  deeds  of  yore,  the  same  may  I.  N, 


54  King  Locrinus, 

4. 
For  as  hee  wisbt  I  vsde  his  coiinsailesajde 
In  ech  tiling  that  I  deemde  was  good  for  mee 
I  neuer  ought  that  they  dcsir'd  denayde, 
But  did  to  all  their  mihdes  and  bests  cigree : 
And  CorincEus  sawe  my  heart  so  free, 

By  diners  raeanes  hee  songht  this  match  to  make, 

That  to  my  wife  I  might  his  daughter  take. 

5. 

So  I,  *that  wist  not  then  whatmariage  mentj 
Did  straight  agree  his  Guendoline  to  haue  : 
Yet  afterward  suspecting  his  intent, 
My  frendes  to  mee  this  poynte  of  counsaile  gaue, 
That  who  so  doth  of  Prince  aliaunce  craue, 

Hee  meanes  thereby  to  worke  some  poynte  of  ill, 

Or  else  to  frame  the  Prince  vnto  his  will. 

6. 
It  may  well  bee  bee  ment  no  euill  ^  at  all, 
But  wyse  men  ahvayes  vse  to  dreade  the  worst. 
And  sith  it  was  the  fountayne  of  my  fall, 
From  whence  the  spring  of  all  my  sorowes  burst, 
I  may  well  thinke  was  some  of  vs  accurst. 

For  why,  the  end  doth  alwayes  proue  the  facte : 

By  end  wee  iudge  the  meaning  of  the  acte. 

7. 
I  made  no  haste  to  wed  my  spoused  wyfe, 
I  wist  I  could  (as  yet)  without  hir  bide  : 
I  had  not  tasted  ioyes  of  trayned  life, 
I  deem'd  them  fooles  by  Cupid's  dart  that  didc. 
1  Venus  vile  and  all  hir  feates  *  defyde, 

1 5  liu'd  at  rest,  and  ruldc  my  land  so  well 

That  men  delighted  of  my  facts  to  tell. 

*  But  I.  ed.  1575.  ^IlLib.  ♦  Force,  ib.  »  And.  lb. 


King  Locrinus.  55 

8. 
My  brethren  eke  long  welded  well  thejr  partes, 
Wee  fearde  no  foes^  wee  thought  our  state  would  stand  : 
Wee  gaue  our  selues  to  learned  skilfull  artes, 
Wherein  wee  either  fruite  or  pleasure  fand, 
And  wee  enioyde  to  ^  fine  a  fertile  lande, 

That  fewe  in  earth  might  with  our  states  compare, 

Wee  liu'd  so  voyde  of  noysorae  carke  and  care. 

9. 

But  see  the  chaunce :  when  least  wee  thought  of  ill, 

When  wee'esteem'd  our  state  to  bee  most  sure, 

Then  came  a  flawe  to  bridle  all  our  will, 

For  straungers  farre  gan  vs  to  warre  procure : 

And  euen  when  first  they  put  their  pranke  in  vre, 
On  Alhayne  shoares  my  brother  there  they  slewe, 
Whose  death  wee  after  made  the  Hunnes  to  rue. 

10. 
When  hee  was  deade  they  hop'd  to  winne  the  rest, 
And  ouer  Abt/  streame  with  hast  did  hye. 
But  I,  and  eke  my  brother  Camber^  drest 
Our  armies  strayght,  and  came  their  force  to  try. 
Wee  brake  theyr  rayes  and  forst  the  king  to  fly 

Into  the  arme  of  sea  they  ouer  came, 

Where  Humber  drownde  the  waters  tooke  their'  name.  ^ 

II. 
Wee  either  slewe,  or  tooke  them  captiues  all, 
Emongst  the  which  (O  mischiefe  great  to  tell) 
The  Gods  to  worke  mine  ouerthrowe  and  fall 
Sent  Ladyes  three,  whose  beauties  did  excell : 
Of  which,  because  1  liked  one  so  well, 

I  tooke  her  strayght,  nor  shee  did  ought  deny, 

But  ech  th  ing  graunted  so  shee  might  not  dye. 

«  So.  ib.  7  His,  ib. 


56(  King  LQcrinus, 

12. 

Thus  I/umber  wee  this  hatefull  hun^jery  king 
In  Ilumber  drencht,  and  him  depriu'd  of  prydc, 
And  of  his  lolty^  Ladyes  he  did  bring 
lie  lost  the  pray,  and  all  his  men  beside, 
And  wee  thespoyles  of  all  his  hoast  deuidc. 
But  I  that  thought  1  had  the  greatest  share. 
Had  caught  the  cause  of  all  my  woefull  care. 

13. 

They  cal'd  this  Lady  Elstride^  whom  I  tooke, 
Whose  beauty  brauedid  so  my  wittes  confound, 
That  for  her  sake  my  promise  I  forsooke, 
Whereby  I  was  to  Guendoline  first  bound. 
Mee  thought  no  Lady  else  so  high  renound' 

That  might  allure  mee,  chaunge  my  conflate  minde,*** 
So  was  1  caught  by  snares  of  Cupide  blynde. 

Was  neucr  none  Before  so  lik'd  mync  eye, 
1  lou'd  her  more  then  I  could  loue  my  life : 
Her  absence  still  mee  thought  did  cause  mee  dye, 
I  surely  raent  to  take  her  for  mj'  wife. 
But  see  how  beauty  breadcth  deadly  strife, 
Lo  here  began  my  whole  confusion,  here 
Sprang  out  the  shaft  from  whence  this  wound  1  beare. 

\b. 
-  For  Corineus  had  no  sooner  heard, 
That  1  did  raeane  his  daughter  to  forsake, 
But  strayght  as  one  that  did  nought  else  regard, 
In  hast  his  voyage  towards  me  did  take. 
And  come,  declar'd  what  promise  I  did  make,^ 


•  Lovely.  N.  *  No  Lady  went  on  earthely  grounde.  ed.  1575. 

'^  Euer  chaunge  my  minde.  ib. 

'  Where  he  declar'd  what  promise  I  did  make.  N. 


King  Locrinus,  57 

From  which  he  sayd  if  once  I  sought  to  slyde, 

It  would  by  dynte  of  sworde,  and  bloude,  be  tryde. 

16.  j^b  mni  i' 
But  if  I  would  her  take,  as  erst  I  sayd, 
And  not  this  straunger  choose  agaynst  his  minde, 
His  helpe  he  promiste  at  each  time,  and  ayde 
To  be  so  ready,  as  I  wisht  to  fynde. 
He  further  sayd  my  countrey  did  me  binde, 

To  take  such  one  as  all  my  subiects  knewe, 

Sith  straungers  to  theyr  foes  are  seldome''  true. 

17. 
I  wayde  his  wordes,  and  thought  he  wisht  me  well, 
But  yet  because  his  stocke  should  gayne  thereby, 
I  reckt  them  lesse :  and  yet  the  truth  to  tell, 
I  durst  not  dare  my  promise  made  deny. 
For  well  1  wist  if  once  it  came  to  try, 

It  would  both  weaken  all  this  noble  land. 

And  doubtfull  be  who  should  have  thVpper  hand. 

18. 
Thus  needes  perforce  I  must  his  daughter  take, 
And  must  leaue  of  to  loue  where  I  delight :  , 

1  was  constraynd,  contented  to  forsake 
The  forme  that  most  did  captiuate  my  sight. 
"What  lucke  had  I  on  such  a  lot  to  lyght  ? 

What  mcntyou  Gods  that  me  such  fortune  gaue, 

To  cast  my  minde  on  her  I  might  not  haue  ? 

19. 
To  short  my  tale  :  this  Guendoline  I  tooke : 
I  was  content  agaynst  my  w  ill :  what  then  ? 
Nor  quite  for  this  mine  Elstride  I  forsooke. 
For  why,  I  wrouglit  by  skyll  of  cunning  men 
A  Vault  along  vnder  the  ground,  a  denne 

'  Never.  1575. 


58-  King  Locrinus. 

Her  company  wherein  1  vsed  still,  * 

There  we  accomplisht  our  vnhappy  will. 

20. 
There  I  begat  my  Sahrine  seely  childe, 
That  virgine  smale  mine  Elstride  bare  to  race : 
Thus  I  my  wife  full  often  times  beguylde, 
Which  afterward  didbeare  a  sonne  to  me, 
Nam'd  Madan :  yet  wee  neucr  could  agree. 

And  he  that  was  the  cause  she  was  my  bryde, 

The  while  her  father  Corinceus  dyde. 

21. 
Which  when  I  heard,  I  had  my  heart's  desire, 
I  crau'de  no  more,  there  was  my  end  of  griefe  : 
At  lest  I  thought  to  quench  Cupidoe's  fire. 
And  eke  to  worke  my  lusting  loues  reliefe  : 
I  ment  no  more  to  steale  it  like  a  thiefe. 

But  maried  Elstride^  whom  1  lou'd  as  life, 

And  for  her  sake  1  put  away  my  wyfe. 

22, 
Likewise  I  caus'd,  was  Elstride  Queene  proclaymd,  * 
And  tooke  her  as  my  lawfull  wife  by  right : 
But  Guendolme,  that  sawe  her  selfe  disdaynd, 
Stray ght  fled,  and  raou'de  the  Cornish  men  to  fight. 
To  them  when  she  declarde  her  piteous  plight, 

In  hast  they  drest  ^  an  army,  for  to  be 

Reuengcrs  of  my  new  made  Queene  and  me. 

23. 
And  1  likewise  an  army  did  prepare, 
I  thought  to  quayle  theyr  courage  all  by  force : 

^  *'  The  singuler  great  loue  and  affection  that  he  bare  vnto  the  saide  Eastrilde 
coued  not  yet  out  of  his  minde  and  be  forgotten,  wherfore  he  made  a  Caue  vnder 
the  ground  in  theCitie  of  Troynouant  and  enclosed  her  therein — insomuch  as  he 
had  the  companie  of  her  the  space  of  vij  yeres  full,  and  none  kneweit,  but  a  fewf 
of  his  verie  familyer  and  faythfull  friendes."    Grafton. 

*  Likewise  my  Elstride  I  as  Queene  ordain'd.  N.  '  Rais'd*  N. 


Kin(y  Locrinus/  SS^ 


o 


But  to  my  cost  I  found  to  late  beware  : 

There  is  no  strength  in  arraoure:  men,  ne^  horse 

Can  vayle,  if  loue  on  wronged  take  remorce. 

Sith  7  he  on  whom  the  deadly  dart  doth  light, 

Can  neuer  scape,  by  ransome,  friend,  or  flight. 

24. 
So  when  our  armies  met  nigh  Hahrine^  streame, 
The  trompetts  blew  and  1  denyde  the  peace : 
I  minded  to  expell  them  all  the  rcalme, 
Or  else  to  make  them  euer  after  cease. 
And  they,  except  I  Ehtnde  would  release, 

(They  sayd)  and  take  ray  Guendoline  againe, 

They  would  reuenge  the  wrong  or  else  be  slayne, 

25. 
On  this  wee  met,  and  valiauntly  wee  fought 

On  eyther  side,  and  neither  part  did  yeelde :  ; 

So  equally  they  fell,  it  was  great  doubt. 
Which  part  should  haue  the  better  of  the  fielde. 
But  I  to  bolde  rusht  in  with  sword  and  shield. 

To  breake  their  rayes,  so  hasty  men  get  smart,. 

An  arrowe  came  and  stroke  mee  to  the  heart.. 

26. 
Thus  was  1  brought  to  bale,  vnhappy,  there, 
My  body  pearst  that  wicked  life  had  led  : 
"W  hen  I  had  raygned  all  out  twenty  yeere. 
And  had  my  corps  with  many  pleasures  fed. 
The  earth  receiu'd  my  corps  as  cold  as  led. 

And  all  my  pompe,  ray  pryncely  troupe  and  trayn^^, 

On  earth  no  more  shall  see  their  Prince  agayne.' 

«  Or.  1575.  7  For.  N.  *  SCura  stream.  1575. 

'  Fabian  varies  from  the  other  chronicles  by  stating  the  death  of  Locrtne  iw  in 
the  life  time  of  Gwendoline's  father;  as  she  '*  beynge  sore  discontent,  rxc3't';d  licr 
Fader  and  fredes  to  make  warre  vpon  the  sayd  Lotryne  her  hushande.  in  the 
which  warre,  lastly,  he  was  slayne  when  he  reygncd  or  ruled  Loegria,  or  Logicrs^ 
Sifter  the  concordauucc  of  raoste  wryters  XX  yers:  And  was  burycti  by  his  Faucr 


60  King  Locrinus. 

27. 
To  all  estates '°  let  this  for  wedlocke  serue, 
Beware  of  chaunge,  it  will  not  hold  out  long. 
For  who  so  mindeth  from  his  mate  to  swenie, 
Shall  sure  at  length  receiue  reuenge  for  wrong. 
Tis  folly  fight  with  God,  h'is  farre  to  strong, 
For  though  yee  coloure  all  with  coate  of  ryght, 

No  fayiied  fard  deceaues '  or  dirames  his  sight, 
-  Hee  guydes  the  good,  and  wrekes  the  wronges  of  might.' 


LENVOY. 

1. 
This  is  the  iustice  great  of  mighty  loue  aboue, 
To  plague  the  men  whose  fayth  vnfirme  hee  fiiides, 
The  promisse  plight  in  sponsales  sacred  loue. 
Which  both  alike  the  Prince  and  simple  subiect  bindcs. 
Who  recklesse  breaks  that  same  nor  faithed  promise  mindes, 

in  the  cytie  of  Troynouant."    This  might  be  the  authority  of  our  author  for  re« 
latinghis  burial  at  Troynouant  as  the  stanza  appears  in  the  first  edition. 

Then  was  I  brought  to  Troynouant,  and  there 

My  body  was  enterrid  as  you  reade : 

When  I  had  raigned  all  out  twenty  yere  : 

Lo  thus  I  liude  and  thus  became  I  deade: 

Thus  was  my  crowne  depriued  from  my  heade, 

And  all  ray  pompe,  my  princely  troupe  and  trayne, 

And  I  to  earth  and  dusce  resolude  againe.    (1575.) 
*°  Now  warne  estates,  ib.  '  No  false  deceit  deceiues.  N. 

^  £dition  1576  has  only  seven  lines  in  this  stanza :  it  concludes  thus 

For  though  ye  colour  all,  with  coate  of  right: 

Yet  can  no  fained  farde  deceiue  his  sight. 
The  Authour. 

With  that  this  king  was  vanisht  quite  and  gone, 

And  as  a  miste  dissolued  into  ayre : 

And  I  was  left  with  Morpheus  all  alone, 

Who  represented  straight  a  Lady  faire. 

Of  frendcs  depriude  and  left  in  deepe  dispnire : 

As  eke  she  spake,  all  wet  in  cordes  fast  bounde, 

Thus  tolde  she  how  she  was  in  waters  drounde. 


King  Locrinus.  6l 

If  hee  ensue  the  vice,  -wherein  his  sence  is  drounde, 
No  doubt  lehouah  iust  will  therefore  him  confounde. 

2. 
If  hee  for  wedlocke  breatch  in  Pagan  Princes  then  .'^1 

So  greate  displeasure  tooke,  and  did  them  sharply  whip,       rjw  lo'i 
Will  hee  not  rather  nowe  afflict  such  christen  men,  ^  u.r^p 

As  dare  the  sacred  band  of  holy  wedlocke  rip  ? 
Hee  will  not  let  the  twifold  faythed  christian  slip,     ysv  rt^ods  toI 
Which  by  so  vayne  delight  in  fleshly  lustes  is  droun'd.       '    "^ 
He  cutshim  of,  and  doth  his  queanes  and  him  confound. 

3. 
Examples  are  in  all  the  ages  scene  before. 
And  also  daily  proofe  declareth  well  the  same. 
Wherefore  I  will  of  this  as  nOwe  resite  no  more. 
Perchaunce  I  may  incurre  some  vndeserued  blame. 
But  next  beholde  on  stage  apear'd  a  noble  dame, 
(Whose  beauty  braue  Locrinus^  senses  did  confound) 
Declaring  how  therfore  Quecne  Guendoline  her  droun'd. 


^miiuUi^>'-]}-^ 


iib  tv>;ow  ni  aew  stlz  w©ri  ^  »*'^^'  ?"'^^ 


62 


HOW    QVEENE    EL- 

stride  the  Concubine  and  second  wife 

of  king  Locrinus  was  miserably  drowned  by  Queene 

Guendoline,    The  yeare  before  Christ. 

1064. 


1. 

And  must  I  needcs  my  selfe  recite  my  fall, 
Poore  Pryncesse '  1 :  must  1  declare  my  fate  ? 
Must  1  the  first  of  Queenes  amongst  vs  all,  * 
Shew  how  I  thrise  fell  from  my  princely  state : 
And  from  the  lofty  seate  on  which  1  sate : 

If  needes  I  must,  then  well  content,  I  will : 

Lest  here  my  place  in  vayne  1  seeme  to  fill. 

2.  '' 

1  am  that  Ehtride  whom  Locrinus  lou'd, 
A  Prince  his  daughter,  came  from  Germanes  land. 
My  fame  of  beauty  many  Princes  mou'd  ^ 
To  sue  for  grace,  and  fauoure  at  my  hand. 
Which  bruite  once  blowne  abroad  in  euery  land, 

One  Humber,  king  of  ^wwwfs  with  all  his  trayne, 

To  come  to  mee  a  suiter  was  full  fayne. 

3. 
What  neede  I  tell  the  giftes  to  me  he  gaue. 
Or  shew  his  suite,  or  promise  he  me  plight, 
Sith  well  you  knowe  a  Prince  neede  nothing  craue, 

•  Woman,  ed.  1575.  *  The  first  saue  three  amongst  vs  all.  ib. 

'  "  Eastritdis  so  fane  excelled  in  beivtic,  tliat  none  was  then  lightly  found  vnto 
her  comparable,  for  her  skin  was  so  whyte  that  scarcely  the  fynest  kind  of  luorie 
that  might  be  found,  nor  the  snowe  lately  fallen  downe  from  the  Elament,  or  the 
Lylles  did  passe  the  same."     Grafton. 


Qtieene  Ektride,  6S 

May  nigh  coraraaund  ech  thing  as  twere  his  right. 
For  as  the  foule  before  the  Eagles  sight, 

Eueriso  we  fall,  submit,  anil  yeelde  vs  still 

At  Prince  his  call,  obeysaunt  to  his  will. 

4. 
And  for  that  time  the  Ilunnes  full  mighty  were, 
And  did  increase,  by  martiall  feates  of  warre: 
Therefore  our  Germayne  Kinges  agast  did  beare 
Tliem  greater  fauoure  then  was  neede  by  farre. 
My  father  durst  not  Humhur's  best  debarre, 

Nor  I  my  selfe,  1  rather  was  content 

In  hope  of  crowne  with  Humhtr  to  consent.  .<| 

5. 
Two  Princely  dames  with  me  came  then  away, 
He  brag'd  to  winne  these  countrey  partes  all  three. 
We  Ladyes  rather  were  \  this  Prince  his  pray. 
Because  he  promist  that  we  Queenes  should  bee. 
We  came  to  cost,  these  countrey  coasts  to  see, 

Sith  hee  on  whom  our  hope  did  wholly  stand. 

Was  drounde,  nam'd  Humhcr  waters,  lost  the  land. 

6. 
For  as  you  heard  before  when  he  suppos'd 
He  had  woime  all,  because  he  wonne  a  part, 
Strayght  way  he  was  agayne  thereof  depos'd, 
Constrayn'd  to  flye  and  swim  for  life,  poore  heart. 
Lo  here  the  cause  of  all  my  doleful!  smart : 

This  noble  King  with  whom  I  came  to  raygne. 
Was  drencht,  and  drounde  vnto  ray  greeuous  payn«. 

7. 
Then  were  his  souldiers  taken,  slayne,  or  spoylde, 
And  well  were  they,  that  could  make  suite  for  life. 
W^as  neuer  such  aa  ajfmy  sooner  foylde : 

♦  Was.  1575 


64f  Queene  Elstride» 

O  woeful!  warre,  that  flowd'st  in  flouds  of  strife, 
And  card'st  not  whom  thou  cut'st  with  cruell  knife ! 

So,  *  had  not  Venus  fraught  my  face  with  hue, 

I  had  no  longer  liu'd  my  forme  to  rue. 

8. 
But  *  as  I  came  a  captlue  with  the  rest, 
My  countenaunce  did  shine  as  braue  as  Sunne  : 
Ech  one  that  sawe  my  natiuc  hue,  were  prest 
To  yeeld  them  selues,  by  beames  of  beauty  wonne. 
My  fame  strayght  blowne,  to  gaze  on  me  they  runne, 
And  sayd  I  past  ech  wordly  wight,  as  farre 
As  Phcebus  bright  excelles  the  morning  starre. 

9. 
Like  as  you  see  in  darkes, '  if  light  appcare, 
Strayght  way  to  that  ech  man  directs  his  eye : 
Euen  so  among  my  captiue  mates  that  were. 
When  I  did  speake,  or  make  my  playnts  with  cry, 
Then  all  on  me  they  stared  by  and  by, 
Bemoningof  my  fotes  and  fortune,  so. 
As  they  had  bin  partakers  of  my  woe. 

10. 
My  forme  did  prayse  my  plea,  my  sighes  tlicy  sued, 
My  teares  enti'st  theyr  hearts,  some  ruth  to  take: 
My  sobbes  in  sight  a  seemely  hue  reneu'd, 
My  wringing  handes  wan  suiters  shift  to  make. 
My  sober  southes  did  cause  them  for  my  sake 
Me  to  commend  unto  their  noble  King, 
Who  wil'd  they  should  rae  into  presence  bring. 

11. 
Which  when  I  came,  in  cordes  as  captiue  bound, 
**  O  King  (quoth  I)  whose  power  wee  feele  to  strong, 
O  worthy  wight,  whose  fame  to  skyes  doth  sound, 
Doe  pittie  me,  that  neuer  visht  thee  wrong ! 

'  Or.  ib.  «  For.  ib.  ^  Night.  N.  »  T'wbom.  N. 

5 


Queene  Elstrkle.  65 

llelease  rae,  one,  thy  captiues  all  among, 

Which  from  ray  friends  by  fraade  am  brought  iaway, 
A  Prince  his  daughter,  drownde  in  deepe  decay. 

12. 

"  Now  as  thou  art  a  Prince  tUy  selfe,  of  might, 

And  mayst  doe  more  then  1  doe  dare  desire. 

Let  me  (O  King)  finde  fauoure  in  thy  sight, 

Asswage  somewhat  thy  deadly  wrath  and  ire. 

No  part  of  knighthoode'^  lis  for  to  require 
A  Ladyes  death  thee  ncuer  did  offend, 
Sith  that  thy  foe  hath  brought  her  to  this  end. 

13. 

"  But  let  me  rather  safely  be  conuayM, 

O  gratious  King,  once  home  before  1  die. 

Or  let  me  Hue  thy  simple  wayting  mayde, '" 

If  it  may  please  thy  royall  maiesty. 

Or  let  me  raunsome  pay  for  liberty. 

But  if  he  '  minde  reuenge  of  vnwraught  ill, 
Why  spare  you  Britannes  this  my  corps  to  kill?** 

14. 

With  that  the  King :  "  Good  Lady  faire,  whatist 

Thou  canst  desire  or  aske  but  must  obtayne  ? 

Eke  would  to  god  with  all  my  heart  I  wist 

Best  way  to  ease  thee  of  thy  woefull  payne. 

But  if  thou  wilt,  doe  here  with  me  remayne. 
If  not  content,  conductours  shaltthou  haue, 
To  bring  thee  home,  and  what  thou  else  wilt  craue."  * 

^  Manhode.  ed.l575.  '°  Or  let  roe  on  thy  Queenebe  waydng  luayde.  ib. 

'  Thou,  ed.  1575.  You.  N. 

^  Omitted  stanza  from  ed.  J  575. 

As  for  my  Queene  as  yet  I  none  possesse, 
Therefore  thou  rather  niaiste  voutchsafe  to  take 
That  place  thy  selfe,  then  waite  on  her  I  gesss, 
Whose  beautie  with  thy  face  no  match  can  make: 
The  Gods  denye  that  1  thy  heste  forsake ; 
I  saue  ihy  life,  eke  God  forbid  that  I  . 

Should  euer  cause  so  fayre  a  Ladie  die. 

F 


66  Queene  Elstride, 

15. 

"  O  King  (quoth  I)  the  gods  preserue  tlij  grace^ 
The  heauens  requite  thy  mercy  shew'd  to  me. 
And  all  the  starres  direct  thy  regall  race, 
With '  happy  course,  long  length  of  yeares  to  see# 
The  earth  with  fertile  fruites  enrich  so  thee, 

That  thou  maist  still  like  Justice  here  dispose, 

And  euermore  treade  downe  thy  deadly  foes,** 

16. 

The  noble  King  commaunded  to  vnbinde 
Mine  arraes,  and  let  me  lewce,  and  free  at  will.-* 
And  afterward  such  fauoure  did  I  finde,  ^ 
That  as  his  Queene  I  was  at  elbowe  still : 
And  I  enjoyM  al  pleasures  at  ray  fill. 

So  that  they  quite  had  quenched  out  my  thrall^ 

And  I  forgat  my  former  Fortunes  all. 

17. 
Thus  loe  by  fauoure  I  obtayn'd  my  suite. 
So  had  my  beauty  set  his  heart  on  fire, 
That  I  could  make  Locrimts  euen  as  muitc, 
Or  pleasaunt  as  my  causes  did  require. 
And  when  I  knew  he  could  no  way  retire, 

1  prayd  he  would  his  fauoure  so  extend, 

As  I  might  not  be  blamed  in  the  end. 

18. 

**  For  if  (quoth  1)  you  take  me  asyourowne, 

And  eke  my  loueto  you  hath  ^'  constant  beene. 

Then  let  your  loue  likewise  agayne  bee  showne, 

And  wed  raee  as  you  may"  your  spoused  Queene. 

If  since  in  mee  mislikyng  you  haue  seene  i  ^ 

Then  best  dep.u  t  betirae,  before  defame  » 

Begin  to  take  from  Elstride  her  good  name." 

3  In.  ed.  1575.  *  Mine  armes  and  giue  me  libertia  at  will.  N",) 

5  With  whom  such  fauour  I  did  after  find.  N.  ^  Have.  ib. 

'  Sayd. ib. 


Queene  Elstrtde,  G7 

J9. 

"  No  wauering  heart  (sayd  he)  Locrintts  beares, 
No  fayned  flattery  shall  thy  fayth  deface : 
Thy  beauty,  birth,  fame,  vertue^  age  and  yeares, 
Constrayne  race  both  thee  and  thyne  hestes  imbrace:' 
I  must  of  force  geue  thy  requests  a  place, 

For  as  they  doe  with  reason  good  consent, 

Euen  so  1  graunt  thee  all  thy  whole  intent.'* 

90. 
Then  was  the  time  appoynted  and  the  daye, 
In  which  I  should  bee  wedded  to  this  King. 
But  in  this  case  his  counsayle  caus'd  a  staye^ 
And  sought  out  meanes  at  discord  vs  to  bring 
Eke  CorincBus  claym'd  a  former  thing, 

A  precontract  was  made  and  full  accord 

Betweene  his  daughter  and  my  soueraigne  Lord,  «»^ 

21. 
And  yet  the  King  did  geue  raee  comfort  still, 
Hee  sayd  hee  could  not  to  ^  forsake  my  loue :  * 

Hee  euermore  would  beare  mee  all  good  will, 
As  both  my  beauty  and  deserts  did  moue. 
But  still  the  end  doth  who  is  faulty  proue  '.^° 

His  counsayle  at  the  last  did  him  constrayne 

To  marry  her,  vnto  my  greeuous  payne. 

22. 
At  which  1  could  not  but  with  hate  repine  : 
It  vexed  mee,  his  mate  that  should  haue  beene. 
To  Hue  in  hate  a  Prince  his  concubine. 

That  euer  had  such  hope  to  bee  his  Queene,  ^ 

The  steppes  of  state  are  full  of  woe  and  teene,  * 

For  when  wee  thinke  wee  haue  obtayn'd  *  the  throne, 

Then  strayght  ourpompeand  prydeis  quite  orethfowil«."'S^ 

«  Coiistraineth  one  mine  Elstride  to  imbrace.  N.  '  So,  in  both.  ' 

'"  Yet  faithlesse  in  his  promise  he  did  proue.  N,  '  i.  e.  sorrovr. 

*  Attainde.  ed.  1575. 

F2 


6s  Queeiie  EUtride* 

23. 
ho  twise  I  fell  from  hope  of  Princely  crowne : 
First,  when  vnhappy  Htimher  lost  his  life  : 

And  next  I  layd  my  pcacockes  pride  adowne,  ... 

When  I  could  not  be  King  Locrinus^  wife.  ^  '  ^^^j--4j1.1\  , 

But  oft  they  say  the  third  doth  end  the  strife, 

Which  I  haue  prou'd,  therefore  the  sequel  vewe, 

The  third  paycs  home,  this  prouerbe  is  to  true. 

24. 
The  King  could  not  refiainc  his  former  mindc, 
But  vs'd  me  still,  and  I  my  doubtfull  y cares 
Did  linger  on,  I  knew  no  shift  to  finde, 
But  past  the  time  full  oft  with  mourning  teares. 
A  concubine  is  neuer  voyde  of  feares, 

For  if  the  wife  her  at  aduantage  take. 

In  rage^  reuenge  with  death  she  seckesto  make. 

25. 
Likewise  I  wist  if  once  I  sought  to  flye, 
Or  to  entreat  the  King  depart  1  might, 
Then  would  he  strayght  be  discontent  with  me. 
Yea  if  I  were  pursued  vppon  the  flight, 
Or  came  deflourd  into  my  father's  ^  sight, 

I  should  be  taken,  kept  perforce,  or  slayne, 

Or  in  my  countrey  liue  in  great  disdayne. 

2Q, 
In  such  a  plight  what  might  a  Lady  ^  doe, 
Was  euer  Princesse  poore, '  in  such  a  case  ? 
O  wretched  wight  bewrapt  in  webbs  of  woe, 
That  still  in  dread  wast  tost  from  place  to  place. 
And  neuer  foundest  meane  to  end  thy  race, 

But  still  in  doubt  of  death  in  carking  care 

Didst  liue  a  life  deuoide  of  all  welfare. 

'  Notbe  Locrinus  wife.  ed.  1575. '  *  RmVe.  ib.  5  Parents,  ib. 

'  Woman,  ib.  ^  Ladjefayre.  ih. 


Queen  e  EhtridL  69 

27. 
The  King  perceluing  well  my  chaunged  ch'eare, 
To  ease  my  heart  with  all  deuis*d  deceates, 
By  secrete  wayes  1  came  deaoyde  of  fcare, 
In  Yaultes,  by  cunning  Masons'  crafty  feates. 
Whereas  we  safely  from  the  Quecne  her  threats, 

Perdy  the  King  and  I  so  vs'd  our  arte, 

As  after  turn'd  vs  both  to  payne  and  smart. 

28. 
By  him  1  had  my  Sahrine  small,  my  childe,  '  '  * 

And  after  that  his  wife  her  father  lost : 
1  meane  he  died  and  shee  was  strayght  exilde, 
And  1  made  Queene  vnto  my  care  and  cost. 
For  shoe  went  downe  to  Cornwall  strayght  in  post, 

And  caused  all  her  fathers  men  to  rise 

With  all  the  force  and  strength  they  might  deuise. 

29. 
My  King  and  hers,  with  me,  gaynst  her  prepared 
An  army  strong,  but  when  they  came  to  fight, 
Dame  Guendoline  did  wax  at  length  to  hard, 
And  of  our  King  vs  both  deposed  quight, 
For  from  her  campe  an  arrowe  sharp  did  light 

Upon  his  brest,  and  made  him  leaue  his  breath  : 

Lo  thus  the  *  King  came  by  vntimely  death, 

30. 
Then  1  to  late  began  in  vayne  to  flye. 
And  taken  was  presented  to  the  Queene, 
Who  me  beheld  with  cruell  Dgers^  e'lc. 
"  O  qucane  (quoth  shee)  that  cause  of  warfos  hast  beene, 
And  deadly  hate,  the  like  was  neuer  scene. 

Come  on,  for  these  my  handes  shall  ridde  thy  life* 

And  take  reuengement  of  our  mortall  strife. 

■    *  This.  ed.  1576.  -        •     '  Tygrcs.  ib.j 


70  Queene  Elstride. 

3\. 

"  I  longed  long  to  bring  thee  to  this  bay,  '• 
And  thou  likewise  hast  sought  to  suck  my  bloud : 
Now  art  thou  taken  in  my  spoyles  a  pray, 
That  caus'd  my  life  full  long  in  daunger  stood. 
I  will  both  teach  thy  selfe  and  others  good, 

To  breake  the  bandes  of  faithful!  wedlocke  plight, 

And  geue  thee  that  \yhich  thou  deseruest  right. 

32. 
**  O  harlot  whoare,  why  should  I  stay  my  handes? 
O  paynted  picture,  shall  tliy  lookes  thee  saue  ? 
Nay,  binde  her  fast  both  hande  and  foote  in  bandes. 
And  let  her  some  straunge  kinde  of  torments  haue. 
What  strompct  stues,  think'st,  for  thou  seemest  braue,* 

Or  for  thy  tears,  or  sighes,  to  scape  my  sight  ? 

My  selfe  will  rather  vanquishe  thee  by  fight. 

S3. 
*'  Thou  rather  should'st  ray  vitall  breath  depriuc 
Then  euer  scape,  if  none  were  here  but  wee, 
But  now  1  will  not  file  ray  handes  to  striue, 
Or  else  to  touch  so  vile  a  drabe  as  shee. 
Come  on  at  once,  and  bring  her  after  me, 

With  hand  and  feete  (as  1  commaundcd)  bound,  '"■* 

And  let  me  see  her  here,  as  If  umber  ^  drown'd."  * 

S4. 
A  thousand  thinges  beside  shoe  spake  in  rage, 
While  that  a  caitiffedid  with  cords  rac  binde. 
No  teares,  nor  sobbrs,  nor  sighes,  might  ought  asswage 
The  gelous  Queene  or  moUIfie  her  minde. 
Occasions  still  her  franlicke  head  did  finde. 

And  when  shee  spake  her  eyes  flid  leame*  as  fire, 

Shee  lookt  as  pale  as  chaike,  with  wrathful!  ire. 

'**  Day.  N.  '  Wh^t  strumpet,  think'st,  for  that  thou  seemest  brame,  N, 

'  S«eme.  N, 


Ne  stoode  shee  still,  but  fearcely  me  defide,  ,.f  t 

Raung'd  vp  and  downe,  and  ofl  her  palmes  shee  strooke. 

"  Locrinus  now  (quoth  shee)  had  not  thus  dide,  ^ 

If  such  an  harlot  whoare  hee  had  not  tookc."  I'l- 

And  therewithall  shee  gaue  a  Tiger's  looke, ' 

That  made  me  quake :  '*  What  lettes  (quoth  shee)  ray  knife 

To  ridde  this  whore,  my  husbande's  second  wife. 

H'is  dead,  I  Hue,  and  shall  I  saue  her  life  ?" 

36.  ^      J 

"  O  Queene  (quoth  1)  if  pittie  none  remayne,  ^ 

But  1  be  slayne  or  drown'd  as  Humher  was:  yi 

Then  take  thy  pleasure  by  my  pinching  payne,  ,  ^, 

And  let  me  hence  as  thou  appoyntest  passe.  >!• 

But  take  some  pittie  ou  my  childe,  alas. 

Thou  know'st  the  infant  made  no  fault,  but  hee  ^  ^  -,,» 

That's  dead,  and  I,  therefore  reuenge  on  mee." 

37. 
*<  No  bastards  here  shall  Hue  to  dispossesse  y^ 

My  Sonne,  (shee  sayd)  but  sith  thou  soughtcst  fame, 
1  will  prouide  for  her  a  kingdome  lesse. 
Which  shall  hereafter  euer  haue  her  name. 
Thou  know'st  whereof  the  name  of  Humber  came  ; 

Then  so  Sabrina  shall  this  streame  be  cal'd, 

Sith  Sabrine  me,  as  Humber  Locrincy  thraUd. 

38.  ,  i^ 

With  that  my  childe  was  Sabrine  brought  in  sight. 

Who  when  shee  sawe  me  there  ^  in  bandes  to  lie, 

**  Alas  (shee  cri'd)  what  raeanes  this  piteous  plight  ?"  ', 

3  Nc  stoode  she  still  but  with  hir  liandes  on  syde 
Walkte  vp  and  down,  and  oft  hir  palmes  she  stroke; 
'*  My  husband  now  (quoth  she)  had  not  thus  dyde, 
"  If  such  an  harlot  whore  he  had  nottooke:"  .        ■>:'•*■ 

And  there  withallshe  gaue  me  such  a  look« 
AIb  made  me  quake,  ed.  1575, 
^  Thee.  ib.  ^  Take.  ih. 


.i. 


And  downe  she  fell  before  the  Queenc,  with  cry : 
**  O  Queene  (quo<li  shee)  letine  more  rather  die 
Than  shee  that's  criltlesse  should  :  for  why,  thy  king 
Did  as  his  captiue  her  to  leNvdnes  brin^." 

39. 
Which  when  1  sawe  the  kindncs  of  the  cliilde, 
It  burst  ray  heart  nuicli  more  then  dome  of  death  : 
Poore  little  lambe,  with  countenaunce  how  milde 
Shee  pleaded  still :  and  I  for  want  of  breath, 
(With  woefuU  teares  that  lay  her  feete  beneath) 
Could  not  put  foorth  a  word  our  Hues  to  saue, 
Or  if  therefore  I  might  a  kingdome  haue. 

40. 
Her  piteous  plainlcs  did  somewhat  death  withdraw, 
For  as  shee  long  beheld  the  Queene  with  teares^ 
(Quoth  shee)  "  Let  me  haue  rigour  voyd  of  lawe. 
In  whom  the  signe  of  all  thy  wrath  appeares  : 
And  let  me  die,  my  fathers  face  that  bcares. 
Sith  he  is  dead,  and  we  are  voide  of  stay, 
Why  should  I  thee  for  life,  or  mercy,  pray? 

41. 
'*  My  mother  may  to  German^/  returne, 
Where  shee  was  borne,  and  if  it  ])lease  thy  grace  : 
And  I  may  well  lie  in  my  father's  tombe, 
If  thou  wilt  graunt  his  ciiilde  so  good  a  place. 
But  if  thou  thinke  my  bloud  is  farre  to  bace, 
(Although  1  came,  by  both,  of  princely  lyne) 
Then  let  me  haue  what  shroud  thou  wilt  assigne." 

42. 
With  that  the  Queene  replide  with  milder  cheere, 
And  sayd  the  childe  was  wonderous  feate,^'  and  wittie  : 
But  yet  shee  would  not  her  reuenge  fbrbearc, 
"  For  why  (quoth  shee)  the  piouerbe  sayes,  that  pittie 

^  Wyse.  cd.  1575. 


Queene  Elstrid&}'^'  78 


Hath  lewdly  lost  full  many  a  noble  Cittie. 

Here  Elstride  now  ile  wreke  my  grcefes  on  thee,  "^ 
To  die,  take  leaiie,  but  talke  no  more  to  me." 

43. 
On  this  my  leaue  1  tooke,  and  thus  I  sayd, 
'*  Farewell  my  countrey,YTermfl»y,farewell 
Adew  the  place  from  whence  1  was  conueyd  : 
Farewell  my  father,  and  my  friends*  there  dwell. 
My  H limber  droun'd,  as  1  sliall  be,  farewell ! 
Adew  Locrinus  dead,  for  thee  I  die  : 
Would  God  my  corps  might  by  thy  coffine  He. 

44. 
"  Adew  my  pleasures  past,  farewell,  adew. 
Adew  the  cares  and  sorowes  I  haue  had. 
Farewell  my  friends  that  earst  for  me  did  sue, 
Adew  that  were  to  saue  my  life  full  glad. 
Farewell  my^  fauning  friends  1  lately  had, 
And  thou  my  beauty,  cause  of  death,  farewell, 
As  oft  as  heart  can  ihinke,  ortong  can  tell. 

45. 
'^  Adew  you  heauens,  my  mortall  eyes  sha    sec 
No  more  your  lightes  and  planets  all  farewell, 
And  chiefly  Venus  faire  thatpaintcdst  me, 
When  Mercury  his  tale  to  me  did  tell, 
Eke  afterward  es  when  Mars  with  vs  did  dKvell : 
And  now  at  last  thou  cruelU/or*  adew, 
Whose  dart  my  life  and  ioue  Locrinus  slewe; 

^*  And  must  I  needes  depart  from  thee,  my  childc  : 
If  needes  I  must,  ten  thousand  times  farewell. 
Poore  little  larabe,  thy  friends  are  quite  exilde, 
And  much  I  feare  thou  shalt  not  long  doe  well. 

^  Tlicn  Elstride  now  prepare  thv  selfe  therfore.    cd.  1575. 
»  And  friends.. N.  ^  The.  1575. 


74  Queene  Elstride. 

But  if  they  so  with  boyling  rancour  swell  vi^-si  /*!  »■> 

As  thee  to  flea  which  neuer  wroughtest  ill, 

How  can  they  stay  my  stayned  corps  to  kill  ?" 

47. 
W  ith  that,  my  Sabrine's  slender  armes  imbrast 
Me  round,  and  would  not  let  me  so  depart. 
"  Let  rae  (quoth  shce)  for  her  the  waters  tast, 
Or  let  vs  both  togeather  end  our  smart. 
Yea  rather  rippe  you  foorth  my  tender  heart : 

What  should  1  line?  But  they  the  childe  withdrew, 

And  me  into  the  raging  streame  they  threw. 

48. 
So  in  the  waters  as  I  striu'd  to  swimme, 
And  kept  my  head  aboue  the  waucs  for  breath, 
Mee  thought  1  sawc  my  childe  would  venter  in, 
Which  cry'd  amayne, "  O  let  me  take  like  death." 
The  waters  streyght  had  drawne  me  vnderneath, 

Where  diudng, '°  vp  at  length  agayn  rose  1, 

And  sawe  my  childe,  and  cry'd  "  Farewell,  I  die  !'* 

49. 
Then  as  my  strength  was  wasted,  downe  1  went, 
Eke  so  I  plunged  twise  or  thrise  yet  more : 
My  breath  departed,  needes  I  must  releut. 
The  waters  pearst  my  mouth  and  eares  so  sore, 
And  to  the  botome  with  such  force  mee  bore, 

That  life;,  and  breath,  and  rainde,  and  sence  was  gone, 

And  I  as  dead  and  cold  as  marble  stone. 

50. 
Lo  thus  you  hcare  the  race  of  all  my  life, 
And  how  I  past  the  pickes  of  painfull  woe : 
How  twise  I  thought  to  bee  a  Prince  his  wife, ' 
And  twise  was  quite  depriu'd  my  *  honour  fro, 
The  third  time  Queene  and  felt  foule  ouerthro. 

'«  Striying.  ed.  1675.  '  A  Prince's  wife.  N.  ^  Mjrue.  ed.  1575. 


Queene  Elstrlde.  75 

Let  Princely  Ladyes  vewe  mine  historic, 
Mine  haps,  and  woes,  and  hateful!  desteny.* 

51. 
Bid  them  beware,  lest  beuty  them  abuse. 
Beware  of  pryde,  for  haue  a  fall  it  must : 
And  will  them  Fortune's  flattery  to  refuse,  -* 
Her  turned  ^  wheele  is  voyde  of  steerly  trust.  ' 
Who  reckes  no  meane,  but  leaueth  all  to  lust. 

Shall  finde  ray  wordes  as  true  as  I  them  tell : 

Bid  them  beware  ^  in  time,  I  wish  tliem  well.  ^ 

LENUOYE. 

1. 

Who  herecosiders  FAslrides  beauty  braue  was  scene: 

Her  noble  birth,  the  sundry  haps  shee  had : 

How  many  erst  the  like  infortunate  haue  beene. 

Whose  forme  haue  made  right  noble  hearts  full  sad  : 

Hee  neede  not  now  in  lone  bee  halfe  so  mad, 
Sith  beauty  is  the  baite  enbaneth  many  a  bower, 
A  meate  too  sweete  in  taste,  that  sauced  is  too  sower. 

2. 

Jt  caused  Hercules  to  slay  th'  (Echalian  King, 

And  Ddanire  her  worthy  fere  to  bane  : 

It  caus'd  the  Greekes  their  armies  forth  to  bring. 

And  Troia  faire  to  fall,  by  Grascians  tane. 

It  setled  here  in  Brilayne  first  the  Dane, 

^  Then  warne  all  Ladies  that  howe  much  more  hie 
Then  their  degrees  they  clime,  mo  daungers  nye,  ed.  1575. 

*  Fhttery  refuse.  N.  ^  Turning,  ed.  1373. 

*  Then  bid  beware,  ib. 

7  The  Authoure. 

With  that  she  flitted  in  the  ayre  abrode, 

As  twere  a  miste  or  smooke  dissoliied  quite, 

And  or  I  long  on  this  had  made  abode, 

A  virgine  smale,  appcarde  betore  my  sight. 

For  colde  and  w^t  eke  scaisly  moiie  she  might. 
As  from  the  waters  drownd  didcring  came. 
Thus  wise  hir  tale  in  order  did  she  frame,  ed.  1575. 


76  Queene  Elstride. 

For  it  of  Kingdomes  great  the  warres  did  oft  deuoure  : 
The  prouerbe  sayth,  sAveete  meate  will  haue  of  sauces  sower. 

Wherefore  let  noble  men  beware  of  beauties  grace, 

Lest  so  inflam'd  they  chaunce  to  fall  thereby. 

If  they  allur'd  the  Sirens  sweete  embrace, 

And  ships  forsake,  the  waues  are  wilde  perdy. 

TJie  monsters  diue,  the  seas  do  swell  to  skyc, 

The  toyling  tempests  tosse  to  reaue  the  vilall  power. 

While  rockes,  shelucs,  sads,and  seas,  the  woefull  wights  deuoure. 

4. 

They  may  hereby  beholde  the  woefull  childrens  fall, 

Of  those  which  led  their  liues  in  lawelcsse  lust : 

And  learne  to  loue  their  La^yes  best  of  all, 

Which  are  to  them  so  faithful!,  true,  and  iust. 

Wherefore  recytethe  death  oi  Sabrine  here  Iraust, 

The  Lady  younjsj,  mee  thought,  from  waters  droun'd  that  came : 

W  hith  might  thus  wise  her  tale  haue  seem'd  to  frame. ' 

*  Many  of  the  incidents  of-  the  preceding  lives  are  united  to  form  the  plot  of 
*'  the  lamentable  Tragedie  of  Locrine,  the  eldest  son  of  King  Brutus,  discoursinge 
the  warres  of  the  Britaines,"  entered  in  the  Stationers  Books  1594.  The  first  act 
shows  Brutus  sick,  making  the  divibion  of  the  kingdom  among  his  sons  Albanact, 
Humber,  and  Locrine.  The  succeeding  acts  exhibit  their  wars  on  each  other,  and 
ja  the  last  is  that  created  by  Guendoline  against  Locrine,  conchidiiig  uith  his 
death  and  those  of  his  concubine  and  daughter  the  Lady  Sabrinc.  SeeiNIalone's 
Supplement,  Vol  IL  p.  189.  There  is  also  "  an  old  ballad  of  a  duke  otCnniwairs 
daughter,''  (Guendoline)  inserted  in  Evans's  Ballads,  1781,  Vol.  1.  The  respective 
writers  appear  to  have  consulted  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates.  In  the  persons  re- 
presented in  the  play  the  author  has  chosen  to  deviate  from  all  chiunicle  history 
by  making  "  Madan,  daughter  of  Locrine  and  Guendolen." 


HOW    THE    LADY    S  A- 

brine   daughter  of  King  Locriniis 

and  Elstride,  was  drowned  by  Qiueene  Guen- 
doline,  the  yeare   before  Christ 

I. 
ijEHOLDE  mee  Sabrine  orphane  erst  bereft 
Of  all  my  friends,  by  cruell  case  of  warre  : 
When  as  not  one  to  treat  for  mee  was  left, 
But  lelosie  did  all  their  powers  debarre. 
When  as  my  father  eke  was  slaine  in  warre. 

And  when  my  mother  euen  before  my  sight 

Was  drown'd  to  death,  O  wretch  in  woefuli  plight. 

2. 
Trust  who  so  will  the  stafFe  of  hye  estate, 
And  bring  mee  word  what  stay  thereby  you  haue : 
For  why,  if  Fortune  once  displeasure  take, 
Shee  genes  the  foyle,  though  lookes  bee  neuer  so  braue, 
Tis  wisedome  when  you  winne,  to  winne  to  saue  :' 

For  oft  who  trustes  to  get  a  Prince  his  trayne, 

Would  at  the  length  of  begger's  life  be  fayne. 

3. 
This  might  the  Hunne  erst  Humber  well  haue  sayd, 
And  this  my  mother  jE/^^JvV/e  prou'd  to  true, 
When  as  his  life  by  striuing  strearaes  was  stayd, 
And  when  the  tyraunts  her  in  waters  threwe. 
What  I  may  say,  my  selfe  reportes  to  you, 

Which  had  more  terrour  shew'd  tlien  twice  such  twayne : 

Gene  eare,  and  iudge  if  I  abode  no  payne. 

I* 

*  Tis  wisedome  rather  then  to  winne  to  sauc.  ed.  1575. 


78  Lady  Sabrine. 

4. 
First  when  my  fathers  corps  was  striken  downe 
"With  deadly  shaft,  I  came  to  mourne  and  see  : 
And  as  hee  lay  with  bleeding  brest  in  sowne, 
Hee  cast  aside  his  watring  eyes  on  raee.  '  '  - 

**  Flye,  flye,  (quoth  hee)  thy  stepdame*  seekes  for  thee^ 

My  woefull  childe  :  what  flight  maist  thou  to  take, 

My  Sabrine  poore,  I  must  thee  needes  forsake* 

5. 
**  See  here  mine  end,  behold  thy  father*s  fall, 
Fly  hence,  thy  stepdame  seekes  thy  staylesse  life  :  * 
Thy  mother  eke  or"*  this  is  wrapt  in  thrall, 
You  cannot  scape  of  gelous  griefe  her  knife,  ^ 
Farewell  my  childe,  mine  Elsiride  and  my  wife, 

Adew  (quoth  hee)  1  may  no  longer  byde :" 

And  euen  with  that  hee  gasped  breath,^  and  dyde* 

6. 

What  birde  can  flye,  and  soate,  if  stormes  doe  rage  ? 

"What  shippe  can  sayle  if  once  the  windes  resist  ? 

What  wight  is  that  can  force  of  warres  asswage  ? 

Or  elss  what  warre  can  bridle  Fortune's  list  ? 

What  man  is  hee,  that  dare  an  hoast  resist  ?  ; 

What  woman  only  dare  withstand  a  fielde  I  ^ 

If  not,  what  childe  but  must  to  enemies  yeelde  ? 

7. 

My  father's  souldiers  fled  away  for  feare. 

As  soone  as  once  theyr  Captayne's  death  they  scand  j 

The  Queene  proclaym'd  a  pardon  euery  where 

To  those  would  yeelde,  and  craue  it  at  her  hand  : 


*  Elstride   or  Astrilde,  is  described  by  Robert  of  Gloucester  as  the  stem 
truendoline's  "  bed  suster,  hire  lordis  concubine." 

3  Flye,  flye,  thy  gelous  stepdame  seekes  thy  Ufe.  ed.  1575.  *  Kke.  N. 

5  Farewell  in  woe  you  cannot  scape  hir  knife,  ed.  1575.  *  Thryse.  ib. 


.Ijody  SqirMe.  196 

Excepting  such  as  did  her  ayewithstand. 
For  so  the  course  alwayes  of  pardons  goes, 
As  saues  the  souldier,  and  entraps  the  foes.  if 

8.  k 
Then  wist  I  flight  could  nothing  mee  preuajle,  'T 
1  fearde  her  pardon  would  not  saue  ray  life : 

The  storme  was  such  1  durst  not  beare  a  sayle, 
I  durst  not  goe  t'intreate  ray  father's  wife, 
Although  I  neuer  was  the  cause  of  strife : 

For  gelosie,  deuoyde  of  reason's  raygne, 

With  frenzyes  furac  enragde  her  restles  brayne.  , 

9.  f 
But  see  the  chaunce :  Thus  compast  rounde  with  fearc, 

in  broyles  of  blonde,  as  in  the  fielde  I  stand, 

1  wisht  to  God  my  corps  were  any  where, 

As  out  of  life,  or  of  this  hatefuU  land. 

No  sooner  wisht,  but  there  was  euen  at  hand 

A  souldier  vile :  "  In  haste  (quoth  hee)  come  on, 

*'  Queene  Elsiride  will,  before  thou  come,  begon.  j^ 

10. 

The  rascall  rude,  the  roag,  the  clubfist  griepte 

My  sclender'  arrae,  and  pluckt  mee  on  in  hast : 

And  with  my  robes  the  bloudy  ground  hee  sweepte  : 

As  I  drue  backe  hee  hal'd  mee  on  full  fast. 

Vnder  his  arme  my  carefulP  corps  hee  cast. 

*'  Sith  that  (quoth  hee)  thou  put'st  mee  to  this  payne,  -, 

"  Thou  shalt  thereby  at  length  but  little  gayne."*  '  ^ 

^  Little,  ed.  1575.  *  Sclender.  ib.  " ' 

^  An  omitted  stanza  from  ed.  1575.  ^X 

Thus  thrdughe  the  hoste  he  bare  me  to  my  bane, 
And  shewde  the  Souldiours  what  a  spoyle  he  had : 
"  Loke  here  (quoth  he)  the  litie  Princes  tane." 
And  laught,  and  ran  as  brutish  butcher  mad;  ^  ^ 

But  my  lamenting  made  the  souldiours  sad, 
Yet  nought  preuailde,  the  caytife  as  his  pray 
Without  all  pilie  bare  me  still  away. 
1 


80  Lady  Sahrlne. 

11. 

So'  at  the  length  wee  came  where  wee  descri'd 

A  number  huge  of  folkes  about  the  Queene  : 

As  when  you  see  some  wonder  great  betide, 

Or  else  the  place  where  some  straunge  sight  hath  bene : 

So  might  you  there  the  people  standing  scene, 

And  gazed  all  when  as  they  see  nice  brought,  .;i^^  -j^ 

Then  sure  I  deem'd  I  was  not  come  for  nought.  a  ?j1./   ' 

12. 

And  in  the  prease,  some  prays'd  my  comely  face, 

In  beauty  Elstride  which  resembled  right :  * 

Some  sayd  1  looked  like  my  father's  grace, 

But  ^  others  sayd  it  was  a  piteous  sight 

I  should  so  dye  :  the  Queene  race  pardon  might. 
Then  sayd  the  beast-*  mee  bore  did  mce  abuse, 
Which  5  not  so  rudely  ought  a  Pryncesse  vse,  ^fK*A 

13. 

But  what  did  this  rcdresse  my  woefuU  care, 

You  wotte  the  commons  vse  suche  prouerbes  still : 

And  yd  the  captiues  poore  no  better  are, 

It  rather  helpes  theyr  payned  hearts  to  kill. 

To  piltie  one  in  griefe  doth  worke  him  ill. 
Bemone  his  woe,  and  cannot  ease  his  thrall, 
It  killes  his  heart,  but  comforts  none^  at  all.  » 

14. 

Thus  past  wee  tlirough  the  prease  :  at  length  wee  cam& 
Into  the  presence  of  the  gelous  Queene, 
Who  nought  at  all  the  rascall  rude  did  blame 
That  bare  mee  so,  but  askte  if  I  had  scene 
My  father  slaync,  that  cause  thereof  had  beene. 


Till.  ctl.  1575. 

Some  saide  lo  Elstride  slice  resembleth  ri^ht.  Jb, 
Some.  ib.  *  Some  said  the  tliiefe.  ib« 

And.  ib.  '  Nought,  ib. 


Lady  Sabrine.  8Jt 

*'  O  Queene  (quoth  I)  God  knowes  ray  whole  intent  j 

Of  slaughter  giltlesse :  I  am  innocent.'' '  :f 

15. 

With  that  I  sawe  the  people  looke  aside, 

To  vewe  a  mourning  voice :   I  heard  thereby 

It  was  my  woefull  mother  by,  that  cry'd 

**  Lo  Sabrine,  bound  at  brinke  of  death  I  lie."  ^\^, 

What  pen,  or  tongue,  or  teares  with  weeping  eye 
Could  tell  my  woes,  that  sawe  my  mother  bound 
On  waters  shoare,  wherein  shee  should  bee  droun*d  I 

16. 

With  that  1  fell  before  the  Queene,  and  pray'd  J. 

For  mercy,  but  with  fierie  eyes  shee  bent 

Her  browes  on  mee :  "  Out  bastard  vile  (shee  sayd) 

Thou  wot'st  not  yet  wherefore  for  thee  1  sent." 

**  O  Queene  (quoth  I)  haue  pittie,  bee  content, 
And  if  thou  minde  of  mercy  ought  to  showe, 
Drowne  mee,  and  let  my  mother  harmelesse  goe, 

'*  For  why,  shee  was  a  Prince  his  daughter,  borne 
In  Germani/y  and  thence  was  brought  away 
Perforce,  fcfy  Humher,  who  by  warres  forlorne 
Thy  King  as  captiue  tooke  her  for  his  pray. 
Thou  mayst  full  well  her  case  with  reason  weye. 

What  could  shee  doe,  what  more  then  shee  or  I 

Thy  captiues  now,  thine  owne  to  Hue  or  die  ? 

18. 
"  Take  pittie  then  on  Princely  race,  O  Queene, 
Haue  ^  pittie,  if  remorce  may  ought  require, 
Take  pittie,  on  a  captiue  thrise  hath  beene. 


,1 


*  Take.  ib. 


5^  "  O  Queene  (quoth  I)  God  knowes  me  innocent. 
To  worke  ray  father's  death  I  neuer  ment."  ed.  1575. 


G 


83  Lady  Sabrine. 

Let  pittie  pearce  the  rage  of  all  thine  ire. 

But  if  thy  breast  burne  with  reuenging  fire, 

Then  let  ray  death  quench  out  that  fuming  flame, 
Sith  of  thy  husband's  bloud  and  hers  I  came." 

19. 

Much  more  I  sayd  while  teares  out  streaming  went, 

But  nought  of  ease  at  all  thereby  I  gayn'd. 

My  mother  eke,  did,  as  shee  lay,  lament, 

Wherewith  my  heart  a  thousand  fold  shee  payn'd. 

And  though  the  Queene  my  playnts  to  fauour  fayn'd, 
Yet  at  the  last  shee  bad  shee  should  prepare 
Her  selfe  to  die,  and  end  her  course  of  care. 

20. 
Then  all  her  friends  my  mother  Ehtride  nam'd, 
And  pleasures  past,  and  bade  them  all  adue : 
Eke  as  shee  thus  her  last  farewell  Lad  fram'd, 
With  losse  of  him  from  whom  her  sorowes  grue. 
At  length  to  mee  (which  made  my  heart  to  rue) 

Shee  sayd  :  '*  Farewell  my  childe,  I  feare  thy  fall. 

'*  Ten  thowsand  times  adue,  my  Sabrine  small.'* 

21. 
And  as  the  cruell  caytifFes  came  to  take 
Her  vp,  to  cast  and  drowne  her  in  the  floud, 
I  fast  mine  armes  about  her  dipt  did  make, 
And  cry'd,  *'  O  Queene  let  mercy  raeeke  thy  raoode. 
Doe  rather  reaue  my  heart  of  yitall  bloud, 

Then  thus  I  Hue :"  with  that  they  slakt  my  hold. 

And  drencht  my  mother  in  the  waters  cold. 

22. 
For  loueto  ayde  her,  venter  in  would  1, 
That  sawe  my  mother  striue  aloft  for  winde. 
To  land  shee  lookte  and  sayd  :  '*  Farewell,  I  die !" 
<«  O  let  mee  goe  (quoth  I>  like  fate  to  finde !" 
Sayd  GuendoUne :  "  Come  on  likewise,  and  binde 


Lady  Sahrine,  .83 


v4ll*^H 


This  Sabrine  here  likewise,  for  so  shall  shoe 

At  once  receiue^  her  wliole  request  of  mee. 

23. 

*'  Eke  as  I  wish  to  haue  in  minde  her  fome, 
As  Humbert  is,  which  should  her  father  beene  : 
So  shall  this  floudc  of  Sabn'ne  haue  tlie  name, 
That  men  thereby  may  say,  a  righteous  Queene 
Here  drown'd  her  husband's  childe  of  concubine. 

Therefore  leaue  Sabrine  here  thy  name  and  life, 

Let  Sabrine  waters  end  our  mortall  strife. ', %<^  ,/j(U  Bftp^wj^ 

24. 
*'  Dispatcli !"  (quoth  shee :)  With  that  they  bound  mee  fast, 
My  slender  armes  and  feete,  with '  little  neede : 
And  sans  all  mercy,  mee  in  waters  cast, 
Which  drewe  mee  downe,  and  cast  mee  vp  with  speede, 
And  downe  mee  drencht  the  Sabrine  fish  to  feede  : 

Where  I  abode  till  now  from  whence  I  came, 

And  there  the  waters  hold  as  yet  my  name.  * 

25. 
Lo  thus  this  gelous  Queene,  in  raging  sort. 
With  bloudy  hate  bereft  her  husband's  health  : 
And  eke  my  mother  Elstride's  life  (God  wot) 
Which  neuer  ment  to  hurt  this  common  wealth. 
And  mee,  Locrinus*  childe,  begot  by  stealth  : 

Agaynst  all  reason  was  it  for  to  kill 

The  childe,  for  that  her  parents  erst  did  ill. 


•  This  Sabrine  hand  and  foote;  at  once  let  sec 
Her  here  receyue.  ed.  1575. 
'  Which,  ib. 

*  Guendoline  **  made  a  proclamation  throughout  ail  the  whole  realme  of 
Briteyn  that  the  same  water  should  be  euermore  called  Habren,  after  the  may- 
dens  name,  for  so  euen  at  this  day  is  Seuerne  called  in  the  Welsh  tongue.  And 
this  did  she  as  one  desirous  to  make  thereby  the  name  of  the  yong  raayden 
immortally  because  she  was  her  housband's  daughter."     Grafton. 

G  2 


84  Lady  Sabrine» 

26. 

But  here'  you  see,  what  time  our  pompe  doth  hyde, 

Hereby  you  see  th'vnsteady  trust  in  warre, 

Hereby  you  see  the  stay  of  states  etride, 

Hereby  you  see,  our  hope  to  make  doth  marre, 

Hereby  you  see,  wee  fall  from  bench  to  barre. 

From  bench,  *  (quoth  I)  yea  from  the  Princely  seate, 
You  see  how  soone  vs  Fortune  downe  doth  beate, 

27. 

And  here  you  see,  how  lawlesse  loue  doth  thriue, 

Hereby  you  see,  how  gelous  folkes  doe  fare  : 

Here  may  you  see,  with  wisedome  they  that  wiue, 

Neede  neuer  recke  Cupidoe's  cursed  snare, 

Here  may  you  see,  deuorcement  breedeth  care. 
Here  seldome  thriue  the  children  may  you  see,  * 
Which  in  vnlawfuU  wedlocke  gotten  bee. 

28. 

Declare  thou  then  our  fall  and  great  mishap, 

Declare  the  hap,  and  glory  wee  were  in : 

Declare  how  soone  wee  taken  were  in  trap. 

When  wee  suppos'd  wee  had  most  safest  bin. 

Declare  what  losse  they  haue  that  hope  to  win. 

When  Fortune  most  doth  sweetely  seeme  io  smile,  ^ 
Then  will  shee  froune :  she  laughes  but  euen  a  while. ' 

'  By  this.  ed.  1575.  ♦  Hence,  ib. 

'  Here  may  you  see,  the  children  seldome  thee.  ib. 

*  Farewell,  and  tell  when  Fortune  most  doth  smile,  ib. 
7  The  Authour. 
With  that  the  Lady  Sabrine  slinckt  from  sight, 
I  lookt  about  and  then  me  thought  againe 
Approched  straight  another  wofuU  wight : 
It  seemde  as  though  with  dogs  he  had  bin  slaine; 
The  bloud  from  all  his  members  torne  amaine 
Ran  downe :  his  clothes  were  also  torne  and  rente, 
And  from  bis  bloudy  throte  these  pluintes  Ire  sente.  ed.l575. 


Lady  Sabrine,  85 

LENUOY.  f\  Ji 

1. 

A  woefull  thing  mee  thought  this  tale  to  heare, 
That  pittie  could  not  moue  Queene  Guendoline, 
When  Locrine  both  and  Elstride  ended  were, 
Which  had  coramitted  facts  adulterine, 
Th'adulter  slayne  and  eke  his  concubine, 

Not  so  her  cruell  rainde  could  bee  content, 

But  in  reuenge  to  slay  the  luoocent.  V 

2.  ^ 

What  maruayle  though  shee  were  of  such  a  minde, 
So  cruell  not  to  spare  her  husband's  bastard  small : 
Sith  that  of  gelosie  wee  often  finde 
Examples  passing  reason  naturall. 
Of  Porrex  mother,  reade  the  life  who  shall, 

Which  slew  her  only  sonne,  eke  Progne  was  content, 

To  sley  her  sonne  an  harmelesse  Innocent. 

3. 
MedcBO  eke  when  lason  her  forsooke, 
And  children  twayne,  which  yong  by  him  shee  had, 
Full  cruelly  a  sword  in  hand  shee  tooke, 
Reft  both  their  liues,  as  cruell  monster  mad. 
Was  not  Agaue's  cruelty  so  bad, 

Which  Pentheus  her  sonne  to  sley  could  bee  content. 

Because  hee  nilde  to  Bacchanalls  assent  ?  , 

4. 
I  will  no  more  of  these  as  now  recite, 
Whose  cruelty  deserued  all  disgrace : 
Nor  yet  in  generall  thus  wise  1  write. 
The  worthy  sexe  of  women  to  deface. 
Tis  gelosie  reproued  here  in  place. 

But  now  I  turne  to  Madan  all  to  rent. 

Which  next  on  stage  thus  wise  to  talke  him  bent. 


86 


HOW     KING    MADAN 

for  his  euill  life  was  slayne  by  Wohies, 

The  yeare  before  Christ, 
1009. 

1. 

j%mong'st  the  rest  that  sate  in  hauty  seat, 

And  felt  the  fall,  I  pray  thee  pen  for  mee 

A  Tragedy,  may  some  such  wisedome  geat 

As  they  may  learne,  and  somewhat  wiser  bee : 

For  in  my  glasse  when  as  themselues  they  see, 
They  may  beware ;  my  fall  from  Fortune's  lap 
Shall  teach  them  how,  t'eschew  the  like  mishap. 

2. 
I  am  that  Madan,  once  of  Britayne  King, 
The*  third  that  euer  raygned  in  this  land  : 
Marke  well  therefore  my  death,  as  straunge  a  thing 
As  some  would  deeme  could  scarce  with  reason  vStand  ; 
Yet  when  thou  hast  my  life  well  throughly  scand, 

Thou  shalt  perceaue  not  halfe  so  straunge  as  true, 

111  life,  worse  death,  doth  after  still  ensue. 

3. 

For  when  ray  mother  Guendoline  had  raygn*d 
In  my  nonage  full  xv  yeares,  sheedide: 
And  I  but  yong,  not  well  in  vertues  trayn'd, 
Was  left  this  noble  Hand  for  to  guide ; 
Whereby  when  once  my  minde  was  puft  with  pryde, 

I  past  for  nought,  I  vs'd  my  lust  for  lawe ; 

Of  right,  or  iustice,  reckte  I  not  a  strawe. 

'  That.  ed.  1575.  *  Was.  ib. 


King  Madan.  87 

4. 
No  meane  I  kept  but  ruled  all  by  rage,  t^^/9^^  t 

No  bounties  of  measure  could  mee  com  passe  in. 
No  counsayle  could  my  meekelesse  minde  asswage  : 
When  once  to  fume  I  fearcely  did  begin, 
And  I  excelde  in  nothing  else  but  sinne ; 

So  that  ray  subiects  all  did  wish  my  end, ' 

Saue  such  to  whom  for  vice  I  was  a  friend. 

•;  5. 

In-*  pleasures  plung'd  I  tooke my  whole  repast, ^ 
My  youth  mee  led  deuoyde  of  compasse  quite  : 
And  vices  were  so  rooted  in  at  last, 
That  to  recurc  the  euill  it  past  my  might. 
For  who  so  doth  with  will  and  pleasure  fight, 

(Though  all  his  force  doe  striue  them  to  withstand) 

Without  good  grace  they  haue  the  vpper  hand. 

6. 
What  licoure  first  the  earthen  pot  doth  take, 
It  keepeth  still  the  sauour  of  that  same. 
Full  hard  it  is  a  Cramocke  ^  stray ght  to  make, 
Or  crooked  Loggcs  with  wainscot  fine  to  frame. 
Tis  hard  to  make  the  cruell  Tiger  tame. 

And  so  it  fares  with  those  haue  vices  caught : 

Naught  once  (they  say)  and  euer  after  naught. 

7. 
1  speake  not  this  as  though  it  past  all  cure 
From  vices  vile  to  vertue  to  retire : 
But  this  I  say,  if  vice  be  once  in  vre, 

■'  Durst  none  aduenture  anger  mine  t'  aswage 
If  once  to  fieate  and  fume  I  did  bes!;in ; 
And  I  excelde  in  nothing  els  but  sinne. 
So  that  wel  nighe  all  men  did  wishe  my  ende.  ed.  1575. 
♦  And.  N.  *  In  pleasures  pleasaunt  was  my  whole  rcpaste.  ed.  iSTS. 

«  This  seems  a  provincial  word,  as  crome  is  used  in  Norfolk  for  a  hook.    See 
Grose's  Glossary. 


88'  Kins  Madan, 


is 


The  more  you  shall  to  quite  your  selfe  require, 
The  more  you  plunge  your  selfe  in  fulsome  mire, 

As  hee  that  striues  in  soakte  quicke  sirls "?  of  sand, 

Still  sinkes,  scarce  euer'  comes  agayne  to  land. 

8. 
The  giftes  of  grace  may  nature  ouercome, 
And  God  may  graunt  the  time  when  wee  repent. 
But  I  did  still  in  laps  of  lewdnes  rnnne : 
At  last  my  selfe  to  cruelty  1  bent. 
But  who  so  doth  with  bloudy  acts  content  -,j.«./-  . 

His  minde,  shall  sure  at  last  finde  like  agayne,  ,|  i^^i^fr' 

And  feele  for  pleasures  thousand  panges  of  payne. 

9. 
For  in  the  mid'st  of  those  vntrusty  toyles, 
When  as  I  nothing  fearde,  but  all  was  sure, 
"With  all  my  trayne,  I  hunting  rode  for  spoiles 
Of  those,  who  after  did  my  death  procure. 
These  lewde  delightes  did  boldly  mce  allure 

To  follow  still  and  to  pursue  the  chase : 

At  last  1  came  into  a  desert  place. 

10. 
Besette  with  hills,  and  monstrous  rockes  of  stone, 
My  company  behinde  mee  lost,  or  stayed  : 
The  place  was  eke  with  hauty  trees  oregrowne, 
So  wist  9  and  wylde  it  made  mee  halfe  afrayd. 
And  strayght  1  was  with  rauening  wolues  betrayd, 

Came  out  of  caues,  and  dennes,  and  rockes  amaync. 

There  was  1  rent  in  peeces,  kild,  and  slayne. 

11. 
Woe  worth  that  youth  (in  vayne)  so  vily  spent 
Should  euer  cause  a  King  to  feele  such  smart : 
Woe  worth  that  euer  I  should  here  lament, 
Or  shew  the  hurt  of  my  poore  Princely  heart. 

'  Syrtes,  a  quicksand  or  bog.  Johnson. 

*  Neuer.  ed.  1575.  »  Vast.  N. 


King  Madan.  89 

I  thinke  the  clowne  that  driues  the  mixen  cart 

Hijth  better  hap  then  Princes,  such  as  I : 

No  storme  of  Fortune  castes  him  downe  so  hie. 

12. 
A  man  by  grace  and  wit  may  shunne  the  snare. 
Tis  sayd  a  wise-man  all  mishap  withstands. 
For  though  by  starres  wee  borne  to  mischiues  are, 
Yet  grace  and  prudence  bayles  our  carefull  bandes. 
Ech  man  (they  say)  his  fate  hath  in  his  handes, 

And  what  hee  marres,  or  makes  to  leese,  or  saue 

Of  good  or  euill,  is  euen  selfe  doe  selfc  haue. 

13. 

This  thing  is  scene  by  mee,  that  led  my  daies 

In  vitious  sort,  for  greedy  wolues  a  pray. 

1  wish,  and  will,  that  Princes  guide  theyr  wayes : 

Lo,  here  by  this  eschew  like  chaunce  they  may, 

And  vices  such  as  workc  their  whole  decay. 
Which  if  they  doe,  full  well  is  spent  the  time 
To  warne,  to  write,  and  eke  to  shun  the  crime.  * 

*  The  cenclusion  of  this  life,  from  stanza  11,  is  thus  varied  in  ed.  1575. 
Alas  that  youth  (in  vayne)  so  vyly  spent, 
Should  euer  cause  a  king  to  haue  such  ende : 
Alas  that  euer  I  should  here  lament, 
Or  else  should  teache  vnto  ray  cost  my  frende : 
Alas  that  fortune  such  mishap  should  sende : 

But  sithe  it  is  to  late  for  me  to  crie, 

1  wishe  that  others  may  takehede  herebye. 

I  might  full  well  by  wisdome  shund  this  snare^ 
Tis  sayde  a  wiseman  all  mishap  withstandes. 
For  though  by  starres  we  borne  to  mischieues  are  : 
Yet  prudence  bayles  vs  quite  from  carefull  bandes, 
£che  man  (they  say)  his  fate  hath  in  his  handes, 
And  what  he  makes,  or  marres  to  lese,  or  saue 
Of  good,  or  euill,  is  euen  selfe  do  selfe  haue. 

As  here  thou  seest  by  me,  that  led  my  dayes 
In  vicious  sorte,  for  greedy  wolues  a  praye : 
Warne  others  wysely,  than  to  guide  their  wayes 
By  mine  example,  wel  eschue  they  may. 
Such  vices  as  may  worke  their  own  decay : 


91^  King  Madan. 


•  LENUOY. 

1. 
Thus  haue  you  here  the  end  of  Madan  *  scene, 
(If  it  were  hee)  and  yet  I  may  suspect 
It  was  some  other  Prince  so  seru'd  had  beene. 
For  that  ail  stories  doe  not  so  detect 
His  death  that  Princely  vertues  did  neglect. 

But  if  hee  died  by  wolues,  as  here  1  write, 

His  rice  the  cause  mine  author  doth  resite. 

{    Which  if  they  do,  full  well  is  spent  the  time 
To  wame,  to  wryte,  and  eke  to  reade  this  rime. 
The  Authour. 

When  this  was  said,  no  more  was  Madan  scene, 

(If  it  were  he)  but  sure  I  half  suspecte 

It  was  some  other  else,  so  seru'de  had  bene, 

For  that  all  stories  do  not  so  detecle 

His  death,  or  else  I  did  perhaps  neglecte 

His  tale,  bicause  that  diuers  stories  brought. 
Such  fancies  of  his  death  into  my  thought. 

Therefore  although  it  be  not  as  some  write 
Here  pende  by  me,  and  yet  as  others  haue : 
Let  it  not  greeue  thee  reade  that  I  recite, 
And  take  what  counsaile  of  good  life  he  gaue : 
I  trust  I  may  (that  dreame)  some  pardon  craue, 

for  if  the  reste,  no  drearaes  but  stories  pen  : 

Can  I  for  that  they  wryte  be  blamed  then  ? 

No  sure,  I  thinke  the  readers  will  not  giue 
Such  captious  dome,  as  Momus  erste  did  vse, 
Though  Zoilus  impes  as  yet  do  carping  Hue: 
And  all  good  willing  writers  much  misuse. 
Occasion  biddes  me  some  such  beastes  accuse. 

Yet  for  their  bawling  hurtes  me  not  I  nill: 

But  with  my  purpose,  on  procede  I  will. 

Next  after  that,  came  one  in  princely  raye 
A  worthy  wight  but  yonge,  yet  felt  the  fall : 
It  seemde  he  had  bene  at  some  warlike  fraye, 
His  breste  was  woundid  wide  and  bloudy  all : 
And  as  to  mynde  he  musde  his  factes  to  call, 

Depe  sighes  he  fet,  made  all  his  limmes  to  shake  : 
At  length  these  wordes,  or  like  to  me  he  spake. 
*  Madan  had  reigned  forty  years.     Fabian  says  there  is  "  lytellor  no  memory 
made  (of  him)  by  any  wryters."    As  a  strict  conservator  of  laws  and  for  "  great 
sapience,"  he  is  briefly  eulogised  by  Harding, 


King  Madan.  91 

2. 
Wherefore  although  that  authors  heere  dissent, 
And  I  haue  pen'd  as  praysed  stories  haue  : 
To  reade  his  warnings  thou  maist  bee  content, 
And  take  what  counsaile  of  good  life  hee  gaue. 
I  trust,  1  (dreaming)  may  some  pardon  craue, 

For  if  the  rest  no  dreames  but  stories  pen, 

Can  I  for  that  they  write  bee  blamed  then  ? 

3. 
But  what  neede  I  on  this  to  longer  stay, 
Sith  many  raoe  remayne  which  felt  the  fall. 
Of  Britayne  Princes  heathen  reade  you  may, 
As  Maline  one  appearing  next  of  all : 
Whose  tale  in  order  now  resite  1  shall. 

Then  here  conceiue  this  wounded  Prince  you  see, 

Ihus  wise,  of  Fortune,  speaking  vnto  mce. 


HOW  KING  M  ALIN 

was  slayne   by    his  brother  King 

Mempricius,  the  jeare  before   Christ, 

1009. 

I. 
If  fortune  were  so  firme  as  shee  is  fraile, 
Or  glosing  glory  were  still  permanent : 
If  no  mishap  mens  doings  did  assayle, 
Or  that  their  acts  and  facts  were  innocent ; 
If  they*  in  hope  no  hurt  nor  hatred  ment, 

Or  dealings  aye  were  done  with  duty  due, 

They  neuer  neede  theyr  great  *  misfortunes  rue. 

2. 
If  pompe  were  payne,  and  pride  were  not  in  price, 
Or  hauty  seate  had  not  the  highest  place : 
If  they  ^  could  learne  by  others  to  bee  wise, 
Or  else  eschewe  the  daungers  of  their  '^  face : 
If  once  they  ^  could  the  golden  meane  imbrace. 

Or  banish  quite  ambition  from  their  ^  breast, 

They '  neuer  neede  to  recke  or  reape  vnrest. 

3- 
Butthey  doethinke*  such  sweetenes  in  renowne, 
They  9  deeme  on  earth  is  all  the  greatest  hap :  * 
They  *  nothing  feare  the  hurt  of  falling  downe, 
Or  little  rome  in  Lady  Fortune's  lap. 
They  *  geue  no  heede  before  they  *  get  the  clap : 

»  We.  ed.  1575.  *  We  neuer  could  our  great  ib.  ^  We,  ib, 

♦  Our.  ib.  5  We.  ib.  ^  Our.  ib.  '  We.  ib. 

•  But  O  we  thinke.  ib.  •  We.  ib. 

*  Vppon  this  earth  is  all  the  greatest  hap.  N.  *  We.  ed.  1675. 
3  We.  ib. 


King  Malin,  ^ 

And  then  to  late  they  ^  wish  they  *  had  bin  wise, 

When  from  the  fall  they  *  would,  and  cannot,  rise.  -31 -rtfyifT 

4. 

As  if  two  twinnes,  or  children  at  the  teate 
Of  nurce,  or  mother,  both  at  once  might  bee. 
And  both  did  striue  the  better  dugge  to  geat, 
Till  one  were  downe,  and  slipt  beside  her  knee  : 
Even  so  it  fares,  by  others  as  by  mee,  ^ 

In  Fortune's  lap  they "  haue  so  little  hold, 

She  cannot  stay  both  striuing  if  shee  would, 

5. 
I  am  that  Malin,  ^  one  of  Madari's  sonnes, 
Which  thought  to  raygne  and  rule  this  noble  lie, 
And  would  so  done,  but  see  what  chaunce  there  com  es 
Where  brethren  loue  and  frendship  quite  exile  : 
Who  thinkes  in  trust  no  treason  neither  guile, 

Is  soonest  cleane  bereau'd  of  life  and  all,  ^ 

In  steade  of  rule  hee  reapes  the  crop  of  thrall. 

6. 
My  yongest '  brother  then  Mempricius  hight. 
Whose  hauty  minde,  and  mine,  were  still  at  square  :  * 
Wee  euermore  as  foes  hight  other  spite, 
And  deadly  ire  in  hatefull  heartes  wee  bare. 
Hee  sought  all  wayes  hee  might  to  worke  mee  care. 

And  ech  regarded  others  enuy,  so, 

As  after  turned  both  to  paynfuU  woe. 


*  We.  €d.  1575.  *  We.  ib. 

^  And  by  me.  ib.  7  We.  ib.  ^  Manlius.  ib, 

'  Who  thinkes  an  other  of  his  right  beguyle, 
Himselfe  is  soonest  cleane  bereaude  of  all.  ib. 

*  My  elder  brother,  ib.  The  authority  for  making  this  variation  was  probably 
Harding,  to  whose  work  Higgins  may  refer  as  "  an  old  chronicle  in  a  kind  of 
English  verse."  (See  p.  7.)  Harding  says,  "  the  yonger  Memprise  slewe  his 
brother  Maulyne,  elder  of  age."  The  other  writers  seem  uniform  in  describing 
Mempricius  as  the  elder. 

*  Did  euer  square,  ib. 


94  King  Malin. 

Because  ray  father  lou'd  him  well,  *  therefore 
I  fear'd  raj  brother  should  obtajne  my  right :  * 
Likewise  on  fauoure  boldned  hee  him  bore,  * 
And  neither  had  in  vertue's  wayes  delight. 
What  neede  I  liere  our  inward  griefes  recite? 
Wee,  not  as  brethren,  liu'd  in  hatred  still, 
And  sought  occasion  other  each  to  kill. 

8. 
I  hauing  liope  for  to  preserue  the  crowne,  ^ 
And  hee  for  that  hee  feard  my  title  "^  bred 
Such  frendship  as  might  alwayes  keepe  him  downe 
And  both  depriue  him  of  his  crowne  and  head. 
But  when  it  chaunst  our  father  once  was  dead. 
Then  strayght  appeared  all  his  *  enuy  playue : 
For  hee  could  not  from  his  9  attempt  refrayne.  * 

9. 
Some  wisht  wee  should  depart  the  realme  in  twoo, 
And  sayd  my  father  eke  was  of  that  minde  : 
But  nether  of  vs  both,  that  so  would  doe. 
Wee  were  not  ech  to  other  halfe  so  kinde. 
And  vile  ambition  made  vs  both  so  blinde, 

W^ee  thought  our  raygne  could  not  bee  sure  and  good, 
Except  the  ground  thereof  were  layd  with  bloud. 

5  Lou'd  me  well.  ed.  1575. 

♦  My  brother  feared  I  siiould  haue  liis  right,  ib. 
^  I  rae  bore.  ib. 

*  I  for  because  I  might  obtaine  the  crowne.  ib. 
7  Fauoure.  ib.  *  Our.  ib. 

'  And  I  could  not  from  mine.  ib. 
'  An  additional  stanza  occurs  here  in  the  first  edition. 
See  here,  tb'  occasion  of  my  haplesse  happe, 
See  here  his  chaunce  that  miglit  haue  liu'dc  ful  wel : 
So  baited  swete  iseuery  deadly  trnppe; 
In  brauiste  bowres  doth  deepest  diiunt;er  dwell. 
I  thought  mine  elder  from  his  right  t'expell, 

Though  he  both  age  and  custome  forth  did  bring 
For  title  right :  I  sayd,  I  would  be  King. 


King  Malin.  95 

At  last  a  time  of  parte  appoynted '  was, 
And  truce  concluded  for  our  titles  right : 
Wherein  I  hoped  might  bee  brought  to  passe 
That  I  enioy  in  peace  ray  kingdome  might. 
But  secretly  by  pollecy  and  sleight 

Hee  slewe  mee  with  his  swoord,  before  I  wist : 

Where  crowne,  peace,  kingdome,  life  and  all  I  mist.* 

11. 
Thus  was  I  by  ray  wicked  ^  brother  slayne, 
Which  with  my  death  his  cruell  eyes  did  fill.*^ 
This  oftentimes  they  vse  to  gei  and  gayne, 
That  cannot  shunne  misfortune  as  they  wil.' 
Was  neuer  man  pretended  such  an  ill, 

But  God  to  him  like  measure  shortly  sent, 

As  hee  to  others  erst  before  had  raent. 

12. 
Vniustice  euer  thriues  as  theues  doe  thee, 
And  bloudthirst  cryes  for  vengeaunce  at  his  hand, 

■^  Instead  of  the  tenth  stanza  the  following  are  in  the  first  edittoa. 
Wherefore  as  eache  did  watch  coiiuenient  time, 
For  to  commit  this  haynous  bloudy  facte ; 
My  selfe  was  taken  not  accusde  of  crime, 
As  if  I  had  oflFendid  any  acta, 
But  he  as  one  that  witte  and  reason  lackte, 

Sayde  tray  tour  vile  thou  art  to  me  vntrue; 

And  therwithall  his  bloudy  blade  he  drewe. 
Not  like  a  kin^  but  like  a  cut  throte  fell ; 
Not  like  a  brother,  like  a  butcher  brute; 
Thoug;h  twere  no  worse  then  I  dcserued  well, 
He  jj;aue  no  time  to  reason  or  dispute : 
To  late  it  was  to  make  for  life  my  suite, 

"  Take  traytoure  here  (quoth  he)  thy  whole  deserte," 

And  therwithall  he  thrust  mc  to  the  harte* 
'  Chosen.  N. 

♦  "  Lastly  by  medyac'ions  of  frends  a  day  of  communycacion  in  louynge 
maner  attwene  these  ii  bretherne  was  appoynted,  at  which  day  of  assemble  Mem- 
pricius  by  treason  slewe  his  brother  Manlius."     Fubyan. 

*  Brutishe.  *  Which  likewyse  went  ray  brother  for  to  kill.  ib. 
^  Which  do  inuente  anothers  bloud  to  spill,  ib. 


q6  King  Malm 

Which  all  our  rights  and  wronges  doth  daylj  see  * 
The  good  to  aide,  and  gracelesse  to  withstand  ; 
If  either  vice  or  vertue  wee  aband, 

Wee  either  are  rewarded  as  wee  serue, 

Or  else  are  plaged,  as  our  deedes  deserue.  n 

13.  *' 

Let  this  my  Avarning  then  suflSce  ech  sort, 

Bid  them  beware  :  example  here  you  see : 

It  passeth  play,  'tis  tragicall  disport 

To  clime  the  steppes  of  stately  high  degree.' 

For  though  they  thinke  good  Fortune  seru*d  not  raee, 

Yet  did  shee  vse  mee  as  shee  vs'd  the  rest : 

And  so  full  oft  shee '  serueth  euen  the  best.  * 


LENUOY. 


1. 

This  was  mee  thought  that  time  the  ruefull  tale,  '* 

That  Maline^  drewe  from  out  his  wounded  breast. 
A  woefull  thing  to  heare  the  Prince's  bale. 

•  Vsurping  wrong  incurres  the  curse  of  heauen, 
And  blood  cries  out  for  vengeance  at  liis  hand, 
Who  still  in  care  of  humane  good  is  giuen.  N. 
®  A  step  aboue  their  owne  degree,  ed.  1575.  '  I  think  she.  ib. 

^  The  Autiioure. 
When  Manlius  had  thus  endid  quite  his  tale, 
He  vanishte  out  of  sight  as  did  the  reste ; 
And  I  perceiued  straight  a  persona  pale, 
Whose  throte  was  tome  and  blodied  ail  his  breste : 
"  Shall  I"  (quoth  he)  "  for  audience  make  requeste, 
No  sure  it  nedes  not,  straunge  it  semes  to  thee, 
What  he  that  beares  this  rentid  corps  should  bee, 

"  Wherefore  I  deems  thou  canst  not  cbuse  but  bide, 

And  here  my  tale  as  others  erste  before; 

Sith  by  so  straunge  a  roeanes  thou  seest  I  dyde, 

With  rentid  throte  and  breste,  thou  musist  more; 

Marke  well  (quoth he)  my  ratling voyce  therefore:" 
And  therwithall  this  tale  he  gan  to  tell, 
Which  I  recite,  though  nothing  ncre  so  well.  ed.  157$. 
3  In  the  first  edition  always  called  Manlius. 


King  Malin.  gif 

Should  bj  his  brother  boldly  bee  addrest : 

But  yet  wee  see  such  tage  in  tyraunts  rest,  fJ    O    H 

If  they  may  beare  alofte  alone  the  sway, 
For  Kingdomes  sake  they  care  not  whom  they  slay. 

2. 
Examples  are  King  Porrex  of  this  thing, 
The  Romish  Antonine  did  euen  the  same : 
But  what  neede  1  of  these  examples  bring: 
Such  tyraunts  euer  yet  dcserued  blame, 
And  haue  procur'd  them  selues,  beside  defame, 

Not  only  after  shorter  time  of  sway, 

But  most  they  were  by  others  made  away, 

3. 
Now  here  Mempricius  which  his  brother  slew 
Was  after  King,  as  plainely  stories  tell : 
Whose  filthy  facts  all  princes  ought  eschew. 
And  subiects  eke,  that  hope  to  prosper  well. 
Hee  next  appear'd  declaring  how  hee  fell. 

Eke  how  his  brother  deare  hee  made  away. 

And  how  the  Wolues  in  hunting  did  him  slay. 


»T 


H 


HOW     K..I  xN,o€t.u -M  E  M- 

prickis  geuen  to  allHust  -(soas,  ^eiiqured^       ^ 

by  woluesj  the  jeare  before  Christ^io  ^mil  ^onO 

,«ow  1  as:  989.  '  '^^ 

■    ^"v^  •_  A 

,!^W9n2l  1  a'naiaion  ^*box)  ton  (e^wfi  n'^miiia  lo($ 

J  18  often  sayd,  a  man  should  doe  likewise 
To  other,  as  hee  would  to  him  they  did. 

Do  as  thou  would 'st  bee  done  to,  savth  the  wise,  ,     ,  ^       .     .        -# 

And  doe  as  conscience  and  as  iustice  bid.  I 

Ther's  no  man  ought  for  rule '  an  other  rid,  *  ^ 

Nor  yet  ^  his  hands  ^  with  cEuell  blond  distayne:  ^ 

For  bloud  doth  alwayes  cry  for  bloud  againe.  ,    ,  I 

2.  dT  ' 

Eke  lustfull life,  that  sleepes  in  sinkes  of  smnp^^^^  ^^.^^  ^.^  -^bfwla  nl 
Procures  a  plague :  fie,  fie,  on  Venus  vile : 
Wee  little  wot  the  mischiefes  are  ^  therein. 

When  wee  with  poysons  swcete  our  selues  beguyle.    "'  "  '' "  "'^  *■ 
The  pleasures  passe,  the  ioyes  indure  but  while,  ^^^ 

And  nought  thereby  at  all  wee  get  or  gayne;  '^^  ^"^^  ^^''^  "^  **^^  ' 
But  dreadfull  death,  and  euerlastfng  payne^  '^"^  ftuq  oadjl-i  bnA 

Mee  thinkes  thou  harkenest  for  to  heare^  my  nanie»     ,    .„     ,  .- 

And  musest  what  1  am  that  thus  doe  come. 

1  would  or  this  haue  told  it,  but  for  shame : 

And  yet  to  giue  example  here  to  some, '  'i^  iT-'U^.-  zb  j».uni  1  efii?  tofl  • 

I  wiU  no  longer  fayne  my  selfe  so  dome,,.^,,„,  ^^        Mwthmssfa  I  « 

'    - 1  * 
I  ' 
'  But  lie  that  mjndes  for  rule.  ed.  1575»  A  * 

"^  For  empire  as  I  did.  N.  '  Must  not.  ed.  1575.  n  rii>ir 

*  His  impious  hands.  N.  '  Is.  ed.  1575.  ^2 

*  Lookist  for  to  haue.  ib, 

^  Wherefore  to  giue  example  ;et  to  som.  ib. 


King  Mempricius,  99 

But  euen  as  others  I  will  tell  my  fall : « 

Takfe  here  ray  name,  my  life,  my  dealli  and  all.    ff   O   H  J 

I  am  Mempricius^  Madar^s  yoDger'^  sonne,  ^ 

Once  King  of  Britat/ne,  that  my  brother  slewftfio^  t^ 
Whereby  the  crowne,  and  Kingdome  all  1  won, 
And  after  norisht  vices  moe  that  grewe, 
Not  nature's  lawes,  nor  God's,  nor  man's  I  knewe, 

But  liu'd  in  lust,  not  recking  any  thing, 

I  deemed  all  thinges  lawful!' for  a  King. 

Fyrst  *  when  I  had  my  brother  brought  on  beire, 

I  thought  in  rest  to  keepe  the  Kingdome  long ;    r 

And  I  was  voyde  of  doubte, '  I  had  no  feare,'  ,, 

Was  none  durst  checke  mee  did  I  right  or  wrong.  , 

I  liu'd  at  large,  and  thought  my  powre  so  strong, 

There  could  no  man  preuaile  against  my  will, 

In  steede  of  lawe  that  vsed  rigour  still.  ♦ 

6. 

Then  wickedly  I  fell  ^  to  slouthfull  ease, 

A  vice  that  breades  a  number  moe  beside. 

I  was  so  testy  none  durst  mee  displease,  ,j 

And  eke  so  puft  with  glory,  vaine,  and  pride.  ,jj^,j  liouifi^b  Jij8 

My  sencelesse  sence,  as  ship  without  a  guide, 

Was  t^t  with  euery  fancy  of  my  braine^^^^^j^^ ^  ^^^  ^^^^^  ^y 
Like  Phcehus  chanote  vnder  Phaeton  *  raigne.  ^^^^  jg^gum  bfll 

i  Jl  to  1j(uo//  ' 

*  But  sith  I  must  as  others  tell  their  fall.  ^.  46I5j.; :  |    o     >      >  ^  oJ  yty  iitfi 

'  fdeemde  was  nought  vnlawfalL  ibV^  <^«  ^^^^  ^"^  »n«it  193«<^i  OU  lifW^ 

*  For.  ib. 

'  I  was  deuoid  of  doubt.  N.  .        .  ■       . 

*  After  attaining  the  crown  he  **  became  so  lyttilr'^'tfftul^'ffiatTii  dtemq^ 
w'in  a  whyle  all  the  men  of  his  londe."     Cht.  of  St.  Albans.  ''      : 

*  So  ofier  that  I  felle.  ed.  1575.  ,  ,    .     .  .  V'"  .. 


IQ^  King  Mejnpriciuss 

7.  ^^"^ 

I  3eem'd  them  foes  tliat  mee  ^ood  coimsaile  gaue,  ****' 

And  those  my  chiefest  frends  could  glose  and  lie: 
I  hated  them  that  were  so  sage  and  graue, 
And  those  1  lou'd  were  lusty,  lewde,  and  slie. 
I  did  the  wisest  wittes  as  fooles  defie, 

Such  sots,  knaues,  ruffians,  roysters  I  embraste, 

As  were  vnwise,  vnbonest,  rude,  vnchaste. 

8. 
I  lusted  eke,  as  lazy*  lechers  vse, 
My  subiects  wiues  and  daughters  at  my  will 
I  did  so  often  as  mee  pleas'd  abuse, 
Perforce  I  kept  them  at  my  pleasure  still. 
Thus  gate  1  queanes  and  concubines  at  fill, 

And  for  their  sakes  I  put  away  my  wife  : 

Such  was  my  lewdnes,  lust,  and  lawlesse  life. 

9. 
But  shame  forbids  mee  for  to  tell  the  rest, 
It  mee  abhorres  to  shew  what  did  insue  : 
And  yet  because  it  moucth  in  my  breast 
Compunction  still,  and  was  God  wot  to  true, 
He  farder  tell  whence"'  ray  destruction  grue. 

To  Sodome  sinne  I  fowly  fell,^  and  than 

I  was  despised  both  of  God  and  man. 

10. 
Could  I  long  prosper  thus,  doe  you  suppose  ? 
Might  ougbt  of  euill  exceeded  these  vices  told  ? 
Thinke  you  ther's  any  Avight  on  ground  that  goes 
Might  scape  reuenge  of  vice  so  manifolde  ? 
No  sure :  who  is  in  sienfuUnes  so  bolde, 

His  vices  fare  like  weedes  they  sproute  so  fast 

They  kill  the  corps,  as  weedes  the  corne  at  last. 

*  Lothsome.  ed.  1575.  '  I  will  declare  whence,  ib. 

*  Alas  I  fell.  ib.  ^  Might  any  ill  exceed,  ib. 


'ICIUS,  101 


King  Mempncius, 

My  greate  outrage,  my  heedelesse  head,  the  life 
1  beastly  led  could  not  continue  so : 
My  brothers  bloud,  my  leauing  of  ray  wife, 
And  working  of  my  friends  and  subjects  woe 
Cry'd  still  to  God,  for  my  foule  ouerthroe, 

Which  heares  the  wrong'd,  hee  vewes' their  carefull  case, 

And  at  the  length  doth  all  their  foes  deface. 

12. 
Yet  I  mistrusting  no  mishaps  at  hand,  'J 

(Though  1  were  worthy  twenty  times  to  die) 
I  lewdly  lin'd,  and  did  my  wealth  withstand. 
I  neuer  thought  my  end  was  halfe  so  nie. 
For  my  disport  I  rode  on  hunting,  I, 

In  woodes  the  fearefuU  heart  I  chased  fast, 

Till  quite  I  lost  ray  company  at  last. 

13. 
And  or  I  wist,  to  cost  I  found  my  foes. 
By  chaunce  1  came  whereas  the  Wolues  they  bred  : 
Which  in  a  moment  did  mee  round  inclose, 

And  mounted  at  my  horse  his  throte  and  head.        '  '  ' 

Some  on  the  hinder  partes  their  panches  fed.  ' 

Tet  fought  I  still  to  scape,  if  it  might  bee, 

Till  they  my  panting  *  horse  puld  downe  with  mee. 

14. 
Then  was  I  hopelesse  to  escape  their  iawes, 
They  fastned  all  their  holders  fast  on  mee : 
And  on  my  royall  robes  they  set  their  clawes: 
My  Princely  presence,  nor  my  high  degree 
Moou'd  them  no  more  obeysaunt  for  to  bee, 

Nor  of  my  corps  to  take  no  more  remorce, 

Then  did  the  greeuous  groning  of  my  horse. 

»  Heedes.  ed.  1575. 
*  Fainted,  ib. 


Kt^-^''Weikj)riml 


15. 

But  rauenously  tliey  rent  my  breast  and  tlirote, 
Forsooke  my  stcede,  came  all  at  once  and  tare 
My  kingly^  corps,  from  which  they  fleyde  my  coate, 
And  of  ray  flesh  they  made  at  all  no  spare, 
They  neuer  left  mee  till  my  bones  were  bare. 

XiO  thus  I  slewe  my  brother,  left  my  wife,  ^ 

Liu'd  vilely,  and  as  vilely  ended  life. 

16. 

Beware  of  bloudy  broyles,  beware  of  wrong, 

Embrace  the  coiinsayle  of  the  wise  and  sage: 

Trust  not  to  power  though  it  bee  nere  so  strong, 

Beware  of  rashnes  rude  and  roysters  rage. 

Eschew  vile  Venus*  toyes,  shee  cutts  of  age. 
And  learne  this  lesson  of  and  tell  thy  friend, 
By  pockes,  death  sodayne,  begging,-*  harlots  end.' 

3  Tender,  ed.  1575. 

*  By  sudden  death,  pockes,  begging.  N. 

5  The  Autiiour. 
On  this  me  thought  he  vanisht  quite  away, 
And  I  was  left  with  Morpheus  all  alone: 
W4i()m  I  dpsirde  these  gryzeiy  ghostes  to  stay, 
Till  I  had  space  to  lieare  them  one  by  one. 
"'ffnd  euen  with  that  was  Somnus  seruaunt  gone, 
Whereby  I  slept  and  toke  muie  ease  that  night, 
And  in  the  morning  rose  their  tale  to  wrighte. 

Nowe  (Reader)  if  you  thinke  1  niiste  my  niarke, 

In  any  thing  whilere  but  stories  tolde : 

You  must  consider  that  a  simple  clarke, 

Ilath  not  such  skill  theffect  of  things  t'vnfnlde, 

But  may  with  ease  of  wiser  be  controlde : 
Eke  who  so  writes  as  much  the  like  as  this, 
May  hap  be  deemde  likewise  as  much  to  misset 

Wherefore  if  these  may  not  content  your  minde 

As  eche  man  cannot  fauour  all  mens  vaines : 

I  pray  you  yet  let  (ne  this  frendship  finde, 

Giue  your  good  will,  I  crauc  nought  els  for  patnes. 

Which  if  you  grutch  me,  as  to^reJit  a  gaines: 
Then  is  my  loue  to  you,  find  labour  lost. 
And  you  may  leaine  take  heede,  with  greater  cost. 


King  MempricmsA  M^ 

LENUOY. 

1. 

Marke  but  the  end  of  brother  quellers  aJJ,  jj,f,^-)  ,enio3  '  yl^niil  yI/[ 
And  you  shall  see  what  woefull  ends  they  had :  .  f 

For  so  lehouah  suffers  them  to  fall, 
As  were  their  risinges  murderous  and  bad,  r 

otii  hjhn:>y? 

But  now  me  thmkes  I  heare  the  carpers  tell, 
Saith  one,  the  writer  wanted  wordes  to  fill :  /«>fl 

The  next  reprou'd  the  verse  not  couched  well  ?  •rn'il 

The  third  declares,  where  lackte  a  point  of  skill: 
Some  others  say  they  like  the  meeter  ill :  "  ".mi  j«uiT 

But  what  of  tiiis  ?  shall  these  dismay  mee  quite  ?|^i  j^j  t^-^f^ 
No  sure,  I  will  n(»t  cease  for  such  to  write.  ,,  J^ 

_.      . ,  ,         1    .,     c  J      '>"▼  ''^^da 

For  with  more  ease,  in  other  workes  they  finde 

A-fault,  titen  take  vpon  them  selues  to  pen      •'    ^^f^fisl  bn  A 

So  inucb,  aiul  eke  content  eche  readers  minde:    "tjlooa  vH. 

How  should  my  verse  craue  all  tlieir  likings  then? 

Sith  sondry  are  the  sects  ot  diuers  men, 

I  must  endeuour  only  those  to  please :  ^       ,      y  , 

Which  like  that  comes,  so  it  be  for  their  ease.      "  ^ ,  ■''  ,a  * 

The  rest  I  recke  as  they  hiame  worthy  bee, 
For  if  the  words  I  wrote  for  good  intent: 
Take  other  sence  then  they  receiu'de  of  mee,        \ 
Be  turnde  to  worse,  tome,  reached,  rackt,  or  rent*/ 
Orhacktand  bewde,  not  constret  as  I  ment: 

The  blame  is  tl)«;iro,  which  with  my  workes  so  mell: 
Lesse  faulty  he,  that  wislit  his  country  welL., 

If  some  be  pleasde  and  easde,  I  lease  no  toyh^'" 
At  carpers  gyrdle  hanges  not  all  the  keyes:  •-» 

What  price  gaincs  he,  that  giues  him  fall  or  foyle,v 
Which  neuer  wan  by  wrastling  any  prayse, 
i  haue  not  spent  m  poetrye  my  dayes, 

Some  other  workes  in  proase  I  printed  ha^f : ,  .^ 
And  more  I  write  for  whicii  I  leysurc  saue,  ^ j 

Knd  for  mine  age  not  thirty  yeares  hath  past,  -^ 

No  style  so  rype  can  yonger  yeares  attaine. 

For  of  them  all,  but  only  ten  the  last, 

To  learne  the  tongues,  and  write  I  toke  the  paine, 

If  1  thereby  receiued  any  gaine, 

By  Frenche  or  Latine  chiefely  which  I  chose, 
'J'hese  hue  yeares  past  by  writing  I  disclose. 


1(>4  King  Mempriciiis. 

The  life  of  wicked  Cayne  was  sorrowfull  and  sad. 

Of  loram  the  King  what  neede  1  to  discriue,  /J 

So  infamous  and  violent  both  dead  and  eke  aliue.  ^ 

2. 

What  auayl'd  it  Memprke  this  Kingdome  to  obtayuc,* 

That  shamefully  his  Princely  brother  so  did  slay: 

Sith  that  Almighty  loue  so  punisht  him  agayne, 

For  scepter's  sake  that  tooke  his  noble  Prince  away. 

His  wretched  cruell  corps  became  for  Wolues  a  pray. 
What  neede  I  more  the  caytiucs  beastly  facts  descriuei 
•So  infamous  and  violent,  both  dead  and  eke  aliue. 


Of  which,  the  first  two  yeares  I  Grammer  taught : 
The  other  twaine,  I  Hulcets  worke  enlargde: 
The  last  translated  Aldus  phrases  fraught 
With  eloquence,  and  toke  of  Terence  charge 
At  Printers  hande,  to  adde  the  flowers  at  lar|e 

Which  wanted  there,  in  Vdalles  worke  before; 

And  wrote  this  booke  with  other  diuers  more. 

Then  pardon  whats  amisse,  a  while  giue  eare, 

So  shall  you  heare  the  rest  that  I  recite, 

Describing  next  what  Princes  did  appeare: 

When  I  had  ended  these  are  past  to  wrighte. 

In  slomber  as  I  chaunst  to  lye  one  night, 

Was  Somnus  prest,  whom  I  desyrde  to  sende 
His  Morpheus  ayde,  these  Tragedies  to  ende. 

Wherewith  he  graunted  my  request  and  calde 
For  Morpheus  straight :  which  knew  wherto  he  came 
I  will  (quoth  he)  the  rest,  whom  Fortune  thraldc 
Of  Britaynes  shewe  :  thy  selfc  to  heare  them  fi-ame. 
And  therewithall  he  set  forth  one  like  Fame. 
In  fethers  all  with  winges  so  finely  dight. 
As  twere  a  birde,  in  humaine  shape  of  flight. 

Yet  twas  not  Fame  that  fcmmc  of  painted  plume, 

He  rather  seemed  Icarus  deceau'de, 

"With  winges  to  flye  nighe  Phojbus  did  presume. 

At  length  in  deede  I  plainly  well  perceau'de, 

It  was  some  king  of  vitall  breath  bereaude. 
From  flight  he  fell  presuming  farre  to  hye : 
Giue  eare  take  heede  and  learne  not  so  to  flye.  ed.  1575. 

^  "  Mempricius  iXxefi/nt  king  of  Bi-ytons  rcgned  X  yere."    Polt/chronican' 


King  Mempricitis.  105 

3.  Jt 

Now  when  as  hee  was  gone,  there  presently,  mee  thought,  < « 

A  King  full  Angel  like  in  feathers  did  appeare : 
With  flying  winges  and  plumes  by  cunning  finely  wrought, 
As  hee  aloft  like  fame  to  flie  prepared  were, 
To  barken  well  his  tale  I  gaue  an  heedy  earc, 

Which  hee  in  order  thus  raee  thought  did  then  contriue, 
Pesiring  mee  to  write  it  so,  to  warne  the  restaliue. 


'  1 
•  If 


H  O  W'-K"i^  G  B  L  A  D  V  W 

taking  on  him  toJiij,J^eU  vpon  the 

Temple  of  Apollo,   iarili 'briike   his 

^'►f'jS   bW«'  »  rill  ,      n  ^t      ' 

neckc,  1  lie  yearc  before  Lurist, 
844. 

I  PRAY  thee  Iliggins  take  in  hand  thy  pen  ^'    . 

And  write  my  life  and  fall,  among'st  the  rest  7 

*  Bladudis  represented  as  a  prince  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  learning,  and  of  un- 
usual mental  acquirements.  Having  (ravelled  to  Athens  he  had  sufficient  address 
to  obtain  a  vibit  to  his  native  land  of  four  of  the  most  eminent  scholars,  or 
philosophers;  for  whom  he  founded  an  University  at  Stamford  with  many 
liberal  endowments,  and  which  flourished  until  the  time  of  St.  Augustine,  who 
got  tlie  same  suppressed  on  a  presumption  of  heresy  among  the  scholars. 
He  also  reputedly  discovered  the  medicinal  virtues  of  the  hot-baths  at  Bath, 
a  circumstance  alone  sufficient  in  that  remote  age  to  add  a  fabulous  portion 
in  the  emblazonment  of  his  character,  and  a  belief,  as  the  Chronicle  of  St.  Albans 
hath  it,  that  "  thrugh  his  ciaft  of  nygromancy  he  made  a  meruaylous  bote 
bathe,  as  the  gestc  telleth."  This  same  "  geste"  seems  the  foundation  of  the 
tale  in  all  the  Chronicles,  which,  though  often  repeated,  was  early  disbelieved. 
It  is  best  descanted  on  by  the  enlightened  Treuisa  in  the  Polychronicon. 
"  Bladud,  Leyles  sone,  a  nygroinancer  was  the  ix  kyng  of  Brytons,  he  buylded 
Bathe  and  called  it  Caerbadum.  Englysshmen  called  it  after  Athamannes  cyte, 
but  atte  last  men  called  it  Bathonia  that  is  Bathe. — W[illelmus  Malmel.]  de 
pontificum.  li.  ii.  In  this  cyte  welleth  vp  and  spryngeth  bote  bathes  and  men 
wene  that  Julius  Cezar  made  there  suche  bathes. — R[anulphus  of  ChestreJ 
But  Ganfr.  Monemutensis  in  his  Brytons  book  sayth  that  Bladud  made 
thylkes  Bathes :  by  cause  that  William  [of  Malm.]  had  not  seen  that  brytons 
book,  wrote  so,  by  telling  of  other  men,  or  by  his  owne  ghessing;  as  be  wrote 
other  thynges,  not  best  aduiscdly.  Therfore  it  semeth  more  sothly  that  Bladud 
made  not  the  bote  bathes,  nc  Jul uis  Cezar  dyde  suche  a  deede,  though  Bladud 
buylded  and  made  the  cyte.  But  it  acordcth  better  to  kendly  reason  that 
the  water  renneth  in  the  erthe  by  veynes  of  brymstone  and  sulphure  and  so  is 
kendely  made  bote  in  that  cours  and  spryngeth  vp  in  dyuerse  places  of  the  cyte. 
And  so  there  ben  bote  .bathes  that  washeth  of  tetres,  soores  and  skabbes. — 
Treuisa.  Though  men  myght  by  crafte  make  hoote  bathes  for  to  dure  loiige 
ynough  this  acordeth  well  to  reason  and  phylosophye  and  treateth  of  hoote 
welles  and  bathes  that  ben  in  dyuerse  londes,  though  the  water  of  this  bathe  be 
naore  troubly,  and  heuyer  of  sauour  and  of  sincUe  than  other  bote  bathes  btn 


.Kin^^Bladud.  107 

A  warning  set  mee  downe  for  curious  men, 

Whose  wittes  the  worke  of  nature  seeke  to  wrest :    J;J  ^^  \\ 

that  I  haue  seen  at  Akon  in  Aimayne  and  at  Egges  in  Sauoye,  wJiiche  ben  as 
fayre  and  clere  as  ouy  colde  welle  streine.  I  liaue  ben  bathed  therin  and  assayed 
them." 

HifTgins,  in  his  account  of  the  learning  of  Bladud,  has  closely  copied  Bale, 
whose  diaracter  was  then  generally  known  through  the  medium  of  Grafton's 
chronicle.  Perhaps  to  form  the  measure  on  a  general  model  this  life  was  re- 
written, being  first  composed  in  quatrains.     It  stands  thus  in  the  first  edition. 

Bladud  recyteth  how  he  practyzing  hy  curious  artestoJlj/e,fcU  and  brake 
his  necke.     Theyeare  before  Christe  844» 
ShaI/L  I  rehearse,  likewyse  my  name  ?  t      .         ¥ 

And  eke  a  place  amongst  them  fill,  'Hi   I 

Which  at  their  endes  to  mischiefe  came?  '  ^  '■'  OnA 

Sith  Morpheus  bids  me  so,  I  will. 

And  that  because  I  see  thee  minde, 

To  write  my  storie  fate  and  fall. 

Such  curious  heads  ic  reade  and  finde: 

May  flee  to  flye,  and  shunne  my  thrall.  , 

If  daunger  teacli  them  line  take  heede : 

If  lecsers  harme,  make  lookers  wyse:  , 

If  warines  do  safetie  brecde,  ' 

Or  wracke  make  saylers  shelues  dispise.  ■ . 

STon  ?iinl'-  Then  may  my  hurt  giue  sample  sure: 

9iU  to  rMf'-         My  lo*'S<^  of  life  may  lokers  learne  :  , 

bavailftd?.;  My  warning  may  beware  procure, 

noi  J,, .  ,1 ;  To  such  as  daunger  scarce  discerne, 

bsbr/ud  J  I  am  that  Bladu'J  Britaine  king. 

,'4t\fr'.  Afifl.!  Budhudebras  his  eldest  Sonne,  ' 

Did  learning  first  to  England  bring:  '■ 

And  other  wonders  more  ivere  done.  \ 

Now  giue  me  eare,  and  after  wrytet  '  g 

Marke  well  my  life,  example  take:  Jlyjt  ' 

Eschue  the  euill  that  I  recite,  ^,^^. 

And  of  my  death  a  myrour  make.  .  ;,^ 

In  youth  I  gane  my  minde  to  lore, 

I'or  I  in  learning  tooke  repaste :  i 

No  earthly  pleasure  likte  me  more, 

1  went  to  Athens  at  the  last. 

A  towne  in  Greece,  whose  fame  went  foorth 
Through  all  the  world  hir  name  was  spred: 
I  counted  knowledge  so  nmch  woortli, 
'm^i')t,'  Ilir  only  louc  to  Greece  me  led*  .,„,,,..  ,,j^.  ,    ,         ^^^^ 


108  King  Bladud, 

I  was  Prince  Bladud,  pregnant  as  the  best 

Of  wisedomc,  and  of  wealth,  and  learning  I  had  store. 
Of  regall  race  I  came  what  necde  I  craued  more  ? 

There  first  of  all  the  artes  of  seuen, 
"Wherein  before  I  had  small  skill  ; 
I  Grammer  gate  declares  the  steuen. 
By  rule  to  speake,  and  wryte  at  will. 

Next  after  that  in  Rhetorike  fine. 
Which  teacheth  how  he  talke  to  fyle : 
I  gate  some  knowledge  in  short  time, 
And  coulde  perswade  within  a  whyle. 

I  thirdly  learned  Logicke  well, 
An  arte  that  teacheth  to  dispute: 
To  aunswere  wisely  or  refell, 
Distinguishe,  proue,  disproue,  confute. 

Then  after  that,  of  number,  I 
The  skilfull  arte  likevvyse  aitaindc: 
Wherin  of  Mathematickes  lie. 
Full  many  pointes  I  after  gainde. 

And  Musicke  inilde  I  lernde,  that  telles 
Tune,  tj'me,  and  measure  of  the  song: 
A  science  swete  the  reste  excelles, 
Por  melody  hir  notes  among. 

Biit  sixtly  I  the  dame  of  artes. 
Geometric  of  great  engine 
Employdc,  with  all  hir  skilfull  partes, 
Therby  some  greater  giftes  to  winne. 

So  laste  I  lernde  Astronomic, 

A  lofty  arte  that  paste  them  all : 

To  knovve  by  motions  of  the  skye, 

And  fixed  starres,  what  chaunce  might  fall. 

This  pleasaunt  arte  allured  me, 
To  many  fonde  inuentions  then : 
For  iudgements  of  Astrologie, 
Delites  the  mindcs  of  wisest  men. 

So  doth  the  arte  Phisiognomie, 
Dependes  on  iudgment  of  the  face: 
And  that  of  Metoposcopie, 
Which  of  the  forehead  telles  the  grace. 

And  Chiromancie  by  the  hande, 
Coniecures  of  the  inward  minde: 
Eke  Geomancie  by  the  lande, 
Doth  diucrs  many  farlies  finde. 


King  Bladud,  lOD 

But  this  in  all  the  sortes  of  men  wee  see,  '^fH^tlkn 

An  vncontented  minde  when  much  they  haiie ;  ^Jll<*^aift< ' 

i 

Augurium  eke  was  vsde  of  olde 
By  byrdes  of  future  things  presagde: 
And  many  ihinges  therby  they  tolde, 
Were  skilfull,  learned,  wyse  and  agde. 

But  Magicke,  for  it  seemid  sweete, 
And  full  of  wonders  made  me  muse: 
For  many  feates  I  thought  it  meete. 
And  pleasaunt  for  a  Prince  to  vse. 

Three  kindes  there  are  for  nature's  skill, 
The  first  they  Natural!  do  name: 
In  which  by  herbes  and  stones  they  will, 
Worke  wonders  thinges,  are  worthy  fame. 

The  next  is  Mathematical!, 
Where  Magike  workes  by  nature  so : 
Tliat  brasen  heads  make  speake  it  shall. 
Of  woode  birdes,  bodies  flye,  and  go. 

The  thirde  Veneficall  by  right, 
Is  named  for  by  it  they  make: 
The  shapes  of  bodies  chauuge  in  sight, 
And  other  formes  on  them  to  take. 

What  nede  I  tell  what  Theurgie  is, 
Or  Necromancie  you  despise  : 
A  diuelishe  arte,  the  feendes  by  this 
Seeme  calde,  and  coniurde  to  arise. 

Of  these  too  much  I  learned  then, 
By  those  such  secrete  artes  profest : 
For  of  the  wise  and  skilfull  men, 
Whome  Fame  had  praisde  i  gate  the  best. 

They  promist  for  to  teach  me  so, 
The  secretes  of  dame  nature's  skill : 
That  I  nede  neuer  taste  of  woe, 
But  alvvayes  might  forsee  it  stili. 

Wherfore  enflamed  with  their  loue, 
I  brought  away  the  best  I  could : 
From  Greece  to  Britayne  lande  to  proue, 
What  feates  forme  deuise  they  would. 

Of  which  were  foure  Philosophers, 
For  passing  skill  excelde  the  rest: 
Phisitions  iind  Astronomers, 
la  Athens  all  they  were  the  best. 


110  King  Bladud* 

The  learned  yei  would  more  profounder  beej^iiuow  js,^  jj»^. 
The  richest  most  t'encrease  their  wealth  do  craAie ; 
The  finest  Dames  doe  slike  *  their  faces  braue ; 

*  Steek.  Jumieson. 


My  father  harde  of  my  retoume, 
Of  my  successe  in  learning  there : 
And  how  the  Grecians  did  adourne, 
My  wittes  with  artes  that  worthy  were. 

He  herde  likewyse  what  store  I  brou;»iit. 
Of  learned  Greekes  from  Atticke  aoyle : 
And  of  my  laboure  learning  sought, 
With  study,  trauayle,  payne  and  toyle. 

I  likewyse  heard  he  buylded  here, 
Three  to\vne«  while  absent  thence  was  I : 
By  South  he  foundid  Winchester, 
By  East  he  built  Cantorbury. 

By  West  full  highe  he  built  the  last, 
On  hill  from  waters  deepe  belowe : 
Calde  Shaftesbury  on  rockes  full  fast, 
It  standes  and  glue  to  Seas  a  showe. 

TFie&6  causde  we  both  might  well  reioyce 
He  for  because  I  gate  such  fame  : 
And  I,  for  that  by  all  mennes  voyce, 
His  factes  deseru'de  immortall  name. 

What  nedes  much  talke,  the  peres  and  all 
The  commons  eke  with  one  assent : 
Extold  my  name  especiall, 
Which  had  my  youth  in  learning  spent. 

I  was  receau'de  with  triumphes  great. 
With  pageauntes  in  eacbe  towne  I  past: 
And  at  the  court  my  princely  seate. 
Was  by  my  fatliers  ioyned  fast. 

The  nobles  then  desir'de  to  hauc, 
On  me  their  children  wayte  and  tende : 
And  royall  giftes  with  them  me  gaue, 
As  might  their  powres  therto  extcnde. 

But  here  began  my  cause  of  care, 

As  alt  delightes  at  length  haue  ende : 

Be  mixte  with  woes  our  pleasures  are, 

Aioidste  my  ioyes,  lipst  a  freiide.  i>ty 


King  BladiM  IQII 

The  noblest  yet  would  higher  clime,  and  all  toskits\(  bsmfiol  odT 
IinmoTtall  they  to^uke  their  nainos  4>u  earth  dcuiserftgarfori  oilT 

3  The  noble  higher  climes  and  to  the  skies 
T'advance  his  name  hedajilj.(lgtth  denise^  N/ 


My  father,  nyne  and  twenty  yeares,  .  .^k^ 

This  time  had  raignde  and  held  the  crowne:  'i,*j 

As  by  your  Chronicles  appeares, 
Whan  fates,  on  vs  began  to  frowne. 

For  euen  araidste  his  most  of  ioyc, 

As  youth,  and  strength  and  honours  fade  : 

Sore  sickenes  did  him  long  anoye, 

At  lastc,  of  life  an  ende  it  made. 

Then  was  I  chose  king  of  this  lande, 
And  had  the  crowne  as  had  the  rest: 
I  bare  the  scepter  in  my  hande, 
And  sworde  that  all  our  foes  oppiest. 

Eke  for  because  the  Greekes  did  vse, 

Me  well  in  Grece  at  Athens  late: 

I  bad  those  foure  I  brought  to  chuse: 

A  place  that  I  might  dedicate  ,,!,  r.-<-  .  •  -.  n 

To  all  the  Muses  and  their  artes,  "  '^l.w'^5  ^o-ufl 

To  learnings  rse  for  euermore : 

Which  when  they  sought  in  diners  partes, 

At  last  they  found  a  place  therfore. 

Amidst  therealme  it  lies  welnig,he. 

As  they  by  art  and  skill  did  proue : 

An  healthfull  place  notlowe  nor  highe, 

An  holsome  soyle  for  their  behoup.  ;;«■'* 

With  water  streames,  and  springs  for  welles:  ■  .iw  I 

And  raedowes  sweete,ruid  valeyes  grene:  ,31  // 

And  woods,  groaues,  quarries,  al  thing  else  <:  bo  A. 

For  studentes  weale,  or  pleasure  bene.  cai^ 

When  they  reported  this  to  me,  '  sdT 

They  prayde  my  grace  that  I  would  builde^^raf)}  9Cff  aO 
Them  there  an  Vniuersitie,  .'Jiiy  ilcvoi  hnf 

Thefruites  of  learning  fortoyelde,:f<ocj  «jd3  .'dgiat  eA  . 

I  buylte  the  scholes,like  Attikesthea^'^  nfigW  eis-i  ma 
Andgaue  them  landes  to  maintayne  thosCPrf^<i9'j  li/;  kA 
Which  were  accounted  learned  men,  ii'i"  ^Jzim  atL 
And  could  the  groundes  of  artes  disclos^pi  x<n  o^jebtmA 


11^  Ki7ig  Bladud^ 

3. 

In  Britayne  thong:h  I  learned  had  full  well 
The  artes,  and  could  among'st  the  wise  conferre, 

The  towne  is  called  Stamford  yet, 
There  stunde  the  wallcs  vntill  this  daye  : 
Foundations  eke  ofsclioiesl  set, 
Bide  yet  (not  maintainde)  in  decaye. 

Whereby  the  lande  receauid  store, 
Of  learned  clarkes  long  after  that : 
But  nowe  giue  eare  1  tell  thee  more. 
And  then  my  fall,  and  great  mishap; 

Because  that  time  Apollo  was, 
Surmisde  the  God  that  gaue  vs  wit : 
I  builtehis  temple  brauedid  passe, 
At  Troynouant  the  place  is  yet. 

Some  save  I  made  the  batthes  at  Bathe : 
And  made  therefore  two  tuniies  of  brassr  : 
And  other  twayne  souen  saltes  that  haue 
Tn  them,  but  these  Le  made  of  glasse 

With  sulphur  iilde,  and  other  things, 
Wylde  fire,  salcgem,  sake  peter  eke : 
Sake  armnniake,salte  Aichimc, 
Sake  commune,  and  sake  Arabecke. 

Sake  niter  mixid  with  the  rest. 
In  these  fowretunnes  by  portions  right : 
Fowre  welles  to  laye  them  in  were  dreste, 
Wheriu  they  boyle  both  daye  and  night. 

The  water  springes  them  round  about. 
Doth  ryse  for  aye  and  boyleth  stil : 
The  tunnes  within  and  eke  without, 
Do  all  the  welles  with  vapours  fill. 

So  that  the  heate  and  clensing  powre. 
Of  Sulphur  and  of  salts  and  fyre : 
Doth  make  the  bathes  eche  pointed  houre, 
To  helpe  the  sickly  health  desyre. 

These  bathes  to  soften  sinewes  haoe 
Great  vertue  and  to scoure  the  skin: 
From  Morphew  white  and  black  to  saue, 
The  bodies  faint  are  bathde  therein. 

For  lepry,  scabs,  and  sores  are  olde. 
For  scurfes,  and  botch,  and  humors  fall : 
The  bathes  haue  vertues  manyfolde, 
If  God  giue  grace  to  cure  them  all. 

1 


Kins^  Bladud,  113 

Yet  when  o^  Athens  I  the  fame  heard  tettj^l  T  H-oi'"'*  ' 

(Though  it  in  Greece  bo  far  hence  distant  w«rfc)tM»>  tn\a  ,«on»  «» 1 
1  trauajl'd  thither,  Avriters  witnesse  are 

Tlie  ioyntes  are  swelde,  and  hardned  milte:       ._ 
And  hardned  Huer,  palseis  paine,  ■T^"iJ'j:ii«pr»^ 

The  poxe  and  itche,  if  work  e  thou  wilt. 
By  helpe  of  God  it  heales  againe. 

Shall  I  renege  I  made  them  then? 

Shall  I  denye  my  cunning  founde? 

By  helpe  I  had  of  learned  men, 

Those  worthy  welles  in  gratefull  grounde  ? 

I  will  do  so :  for  God  gaae  grace, 
Whereby  I  knew  what  nature  wrought : 
And  lent  me  lore  to  finde  the  place. 
By  wisedorae  where  those  wells  I  sought. 

Which  once  confest  lo  here  my  harme, 
Eschewe  the  like  if  thou  be  wyse: 
Let  neuer  will  thy  wits  becharme. 
Or  make  the  chaunge  of  kindedeuise. 

For  if  the  fishe  would  learne  to  goe, 
And  leaue  to  swim  against  his  vre : 
When  he  were  quite  the  waters  fro. 
He  could  not  swim  you  may  be  sure. 

Or  if  the  beast  would  learne  to  flie. 
That  had  no  plumes  by  nature  lent: 
And  get  him  wyngesas  earst  did  I, 
Would  not  thinke  you  it  him  repent? 

Though  Magike  Mathematical!, 
Make  wooden  birdes  to  flye  and  soare : 
Eke  brasen  heads  that  speake  they  shall. 
And  promise  many  maruciles  more. 

Yet  sith  it  swarues  from  Nature's  will, 
As  much  as  these  that  I  recite : 
Refuse  the  fondnesof  such  skill, 
Doth  ay  with  death  the  proufe  requite. 

I  decmde  I  could  more  soner  frame, 
My  selfe  to  flye  then  birdes  of  wood : 
And  ment  to  get  eternall  fame, 
Which  I  esteemde  the  greatest  good. 

I  deckt  my  selfe  with  plumes  and  wynges,  '' ,. 

As  here  thou  seest  in  skilfull  wise:  '  ; 

And  many  equall  poysing  ihinges 
To  ayde  my  flight,  to  fall  or  rise. 

I 


114  King  Bladtid. 

1  studied  there,  and  thence  of  learned  men  I  brought 

That  learning  might  from  Britaj/ne  land  no  more  so  far  bee  sought/ 

♦  That  noble  arts  in  Britain  might  be  taught.  N. 


Thou  thinkste  an  arte  that  seldome  vsde, 

In  hand  I  tooke,  and  so  it  was: 

But  we  no  daunger  then  refusde, 

So  we  might  bring  our  feates  to  passe. 

By  practise  at  the  length  I  could, 
Gainst  store  of  wynde  with  ease  arise: 
And  then  which  way  to  light  I  should, 
And  mount,  and  turne  I  did  deuise. 

Which  learned  but  not  perfectly, 
Before  I  had  therof  the  sleight: 
1  flew  aloft  but  downe  fell  I, 
For  want  of  skill  againe  to  light. 

Upon  the  temple  fearst  I  built, 
To  God  Apollo,  downe  I  fell : 
In  filters  broisde  for  such  a  guilt, 
A  iust  reuenge  requited  well. 

For  what  should  [  presume  so  highe, 
Against  the  course  of  n  'ture  quite 
To  take  me  wynges  and  saye  to  flye, 
A  foole  no  fovvle  in  fethers  dight. 

As  learning  founds  and  cunning  finds. 
To  such  haue  wit  the  same  to  vse : 
So  she  confounds,  and  marres  the  minds, 
Of  those  her  secrets  seeme  t'abuse. 

Well  then  deserts  requirde  my  fall, 
Presumption  proude,  depriu'de  my  breath ; 
Renowne  bereft  my  life  and  all, 
Desire  of  prayse,  procurde  my  death: 

Do  let  allureing  arts  alone, 
They  pleasaunt  seeme  yet  are  they  vayne  : 
Amongst  an  hundreth  scaice  is  one, 
Doth  ought  thereby  but  labour  gayne. 

Their  cunning  castes  are  crafty  cares, 
Deuices  vayne  deuisde  by  men : 
Such  witched  wiles  areSathans  snares. 
To  traine  in  fooles,  despise  them  then. 

Their  wisdome  is  but  wily  wit, 
Their  sagenes  is  but  subtittie: 


Kinff  Bladud.  115 


'O 


4. 

But  after  hee  was  dead  that  was  my  stay, 

My  father  graue,  I  meane  the  worthy  King 

Then  all  the  Britat/ncs  shortly  by  a  day 

To  royall  seat  elected  mee  did  bring. 

Where  1  to  place  in  order  euery  thing, 

Did  both  receiue  the  crowne'  and  scepter  in  my  hand. 
With  glory  and  renowned  fame  to  gouerne  all  the  land.*^ 

5. 

Then,  for  because  the  sway  of  all  the  lie 

Depended  on  my  gouernement  to  rest 

I  did  consult  with  all  the  peeres  a  while. 

And  of  my  father's  counsaylers  the  best, 

I  order  tooke  for  matters  vnredrest, 
Appoynting  vnto  each  such  place  of  iustice  fit, 
As  serued  to  their  birth,  their  persons,  wealth  and  wit.' 

*  Receiu'd  both  crowne.  N. 

^  With  right  and  equitie  to  rule  this  land.  N. 

'  Giuing  to  each  such  peace  as  best  did  fit 

Their  birth,  their  wealth,  their  persons  and  their  wit.  N. 


Darke  dreames  deuisde  for  fooles  are  fit, 
And  such  as  practise  pampestry. 

Thou  seest  my  fall  and  eke  the  cause, 
Vnwisely  I  good  giftes  abiisde: 
Lo  here  the  hurt  of  learned  I  awes, 
If  they  be  wrested  or  misusde. 

Then  wryte  my  story  with  the  rest. 
May  pleasure  when  it  comes  to  vewe: 
Take  heede  of  counsayles  all  is  best. 
Beware,  take  heede  farewell  adieu. 

Farewell,  will  students  keepe  in  minde. 

Els  may  they  chaunce  like  fate  to  finde. 
For  why,  ToTj  xaxoTf  r^Tt  xaKei. 
TiKos. 

I  2 


Il6  King  Bladud, 

6. 

The  learned  Greekes^  -whom  I  from  Athens  brought, 
Conferring  with  the  British  learned  men  : 
A  place,  as  1  commaunded  them,  had  sought 
Amid'st  the  Realme,  and  brought  mee  word  agen. 
At  Siantford  there  I  built  a  coUedge  then> 

And  made  prouision  for  the  same  perdy, 

To  maynetayne  them  a  famous  Vniucrsity .' 

7. 
By  this,  of  skilfuU  men  the  land  had  store, 
And  all  the  arts  were  read  in  Britayneyie\[  : 
No  countrey  was  for  learning  praysed  more. 
Abroad,  the  world  began  of  vs  tell.'  ' 

From  other  nations  hither  came  to  dwell 

The  wisest  wits,  commending  vs,  extolling  vs  to  skies  t 
They  sayd  wee  were  a  people  stout,  and  learned,  graue,  and  wise.'* 

8. 
And  for  that  time  of  Gods  wee  honour'd  all, 
Apollo  high  for  wisedome,  arte,  and  skill : 
At  Troynouant  a  Temple  speciall 
I  built  to  him,  for  sacrifices  still. 
"Whereon  I  fell,  as  after  speake  1  will. 

Such  was  our  vse  and  superstition  [wholy]'  then. 
To  deeme  as  Gods  the  statures  tall  ofnoble  worthy  men.* 

9. 
Some  saye  I  made  the  holesome  Baths  at  Bathe, ' 
And  made  therefore  two  Turmes  of  burning  brasse : 

And  other  twayne  seauen  kindes  of  salts  that  haue 

/ 

*  And  of  my  land  I  }:aue  the  fertil'st  partes, 
To  foster  li  arning  and  the  famous  artes.     N. 

P  We  did  in  noble  science  so  excell.  N. 

»° commondinpvs  to  skies, 

Dceminji;  vs  people  valiant,  learn'd  and  wise.  N. 

*  Niccols  to  improve  the  measure  made  several  omissions  in  the  text  which  are 
dlstinf^uishcd  by  iuverted  brackets. 

^  To  deeme  as  Gods  tlie  images  of  men.  N.  3  gj  zxt^\  made.  N. 


King  BladucL  117 

In  them  inclos'd,  but  these  bee  made  of  glasse, 
With  sulphur  fild,  wilde  fireeraixt  there  was, 

And  in  foure  welles  these  Tuiines  so  placed  heate  for  aye 

The  water  springing  vp,  before  it  passe  away.  ■♦ 

10. 
Which  waters  heate  and  clensing  perfect  powre, 
With  vapours  of  the  sulphur,  salts,  and  fire. 
Hath  vertue  great,  to  heale,  and  washe,  and  scowre 
The  bathed  sores  therein  that  health  desire. 
If  of  the  vertues,  moe  thou  dost  require 

[To  knowe,]  1  will  resite  what  old  experience  tells 

In  causes  cold  the  noble  vertues  of  these  welles. 

II. 
The  bathes  to  soften  sinewes  vertue  haue, 
And  also  for  to  dense  and  scowre  the  skin 
From  Morphewes  white  and  blacke,  to  heale  and  saue 
The  bodyes  freckled,  faynt,  are  bathed  therein : 
Scabs,  lepry,  sores  are^  old  and  festered  in, 

The  scurfe,botch,itche,goute>poxe,[sweld  ioyntsjandhuraoresfell, 

The  milt  and  liuer  hard  it  heales,  and  palsey  well.  ^ 

12. 
I  must  confesse  by  learned  skill  I  found 
Those  natiue  welles  whence  springs  that  helpe  ^  for  men  : 
But  well  thou  know'st  there  runnes  from  vnder  ground 
Springes  sweete,  salt,  cold,  and  bote  euen  now  as  then, 
From  rocke,  saltpetre,  alume, grauell,  fen, 

From  sulphur,  iron,  leade,  gold,  siluer,  brasseandtinne : 

Ech  fountayne  takes  the  force  of  vayne  it  coucheth  in.  * 

13. 

Then  who  so  knowes  by  nature's  worke  in  these, 

Of  metalles  or  of  mynes  the  force  to  heale, 

4  These  Tunnes  I  did  essay 
To  place  by  arte  that  they  might  last  of  aye.  N. 
'  Both.  N.  ^  Hard  it  healeth  well    N.  '  Whence  ye  haue  helpe.  N. 

*  Springs  vertue  take  of  vaines  that  they  been  in.  N. 


lis  '    King  Bladiid, 

May  sooner  giue  liis  iudgement  in  disease, 

For  curing  by  the  bath,  and  surer  deale 

With  sickly  peoi)le  of  the  publique  weale, 

And  also  finde  offountaynes  salt,  or  hote,  or  cold, 
And  for  to  healeby  them  the  sicke  with  honour  bee  bold.^ 

14. 

The  Citie  eke  oi  Bathe  I  founded  there, 

Renouned  far  by  reason  of  the  welles  : 

And  many  monuments  that  auncient  were 

I  placed  there,  thou  know'st  the  story  tells. 

I  sought  renowne  and  fame  and  nothing  elze. 

But  when  our  actes  extoll  our  prayse  aboue  the  skie, 

Ware  blinded  so,  wee  looke  not  downe  from  whence  wee  flye.'« 

15. 
Tere  are  but  fewe,  whom  Fortune  bathes  in  blesse, 

But  blinded  are,  and  dazelingly  they  looke  : 

They  see  nought  else  but  worldly  happinesse. 

At  that  they  only  fish  with  Fortune's  hooke. 

Beneath  on  earth  pompe,  pelfe,  and  prayse  they  pooke. 
On  that  depending  frayle,  that  fayles,  and  flits,  arid  flyes, 
Forsaking  vertue  sole,  that  bides  for  aye  aboue  the  skies.' 

16. 

Mens  vayne  delightes  are  wondrous  to  behold, 

For  that  that  reason  nills,  nor  nature  sowes 

They  take  in  hand,  on  science  far  to  bold, 

Deceiu'dby  suttle  snares  of  diuelish  showes. 

From  which  attemptes  a  flood  of  mischiefe  flowes. 

An  heape  of  hurtes,  [a  swarme  of  smartes]  a  fry  of  foule  decayes, 
A  flocke  of  feares,[a  droue  ofdeathes,]and  thrales  a  thousand  wayes. 

'  Fountaiiies  hot  and  cold, 
To  heale  by  them  the  sicke,  both  yongand  old.  N. 

"^  Extols  vs  to  the  skies, 
We  look  not  downe  from  whence  we  first  did  rise.  N. 
*  Ambition  will  not  wisdome's  counseil  brooke, 
Pride  sets  her  thoughts  on  things  that  vade  away, 
Forsaken  vertue  which  dutb  ncre  decay.  N. 


King   Bladiid.  119 

17. 

If  that  the  water  fish  forsake  the  streame 

Ag-aynst  his  kinde,  feeles  hee  no  hurt  ensues  ? 

Or  if  the  brocke  would  learne  to  play  the  breame, 

And  leauethe  larabes  at  land,  were  this  no  iiewes  ? 

A  fethered  fowle  inth'earth  a  den  to  chuse, 

Or  flounder  say  to  flye  [and  soare  aloft]  the  larke  to  catch, 
Would  not  you  maruell  the,  what  monsters  now  doth  nature  hatch  ?* 

18. 

But  sith  wee  see  that  nature  hath  assign'd 

The  fowle  to  fly  the  ay  re,  as  seemeth  well, 

The  fish  to  swim  the  sea,  as  fits  his  kinde, 

The  earth  for  men  and  beastes  to  breede  and  dwell : 

Of  right  a  man,  which  doth  the  restexcell, 

Should  euen  so  far  surpasse  the  rest  in  ech  degree,* 
As  all  the  rest  to  him  in  wit  and  reason  weaker  bee.* 

19. 
All  this  I  speake  to  warne  the  rest  that  heare, 
And  eke  to  shew  the  blindnesse  of  delites. 
Herein  my  foly  vayne  may  playne  appeare. 
What  hap  they  heape  which  try  out  cunning  slightes. 
What  hurt  there  hits,  at  such  vayne  sliewes  and  sightes, 
W  here  men  for  pleasure  only  take  much  [toyle  and  J  pajne, 
To  alter  nature's  gifts  for  [porape,  and  pride,  and]  pleasure  vayne. 

20. 

Were  not  it  straunge,  thinke  you,  a  King  to  fly, 

To  play  the  tombler,  or  some  iugling  cast  ? 

To  dresse  himselfe  in  plumes,  as  erst  did  I, 

And  vnder  armes  to  knit  on  winges  full  fast? 

A  sport  you  thinke  that  might  the  wise  agaste. 

But  Magicke  Mathematically  had  taught  meepoyntsof  scili, 

Whereby  when  first  I  practis'd  then,  I  lern*d  my  selfe  to  kill.* 

*  We  might  admire  what  monsters  time  did  hatch.  N. 

3  Surpasse  in  his  degree.  N.  ''■  As  all  the  rest  in  wisdome  weaker  l>ee.  N. 

'  Magicke  arte.  N.  "  Which  in  the  end  did  proue  my  future  ill.  N. 


120  Kitig  Bladud, 

21. 

I  deckle  my  corps  with  plumes  (I  say)  and  winges, 

And  had  (hem  set,  thou  seest,  in  scilfuU  wise, 

With  many  feats,  fine  poyseing  equall  thinges, 

To  ayde  my  selfe  in  flight  to  fall  or  rise, 

An  arte  men  seldorae  vse  mine  enterprise :' 

[Somwhat]  gaynst  store  of  winde,  by  practise  rise  1  could, 
And  try*d  which  way  to  turne,  and  mount,  and  lyght  1  should,* 

22. 

But  er  the  perfect  scill  I  learned  had, 

(And  yet  mee  thought  1  could  doe  passing  well) 

My  subiects'  hearts  with  pleasaunt  toyes  to  glad, 

From  Temple's  top,  where  did  Apollo  dwell, 

1  'sayd  to  flye,  but  on  the  Church  1  fell. 
And  broysed  all  to  peeces  lost^  my  life  withall. 
This  was  ray  race,  mine  exercise  and  fatall  fall.* 

23. 

What  vayner  thing  could  any  Prince  deuise, 

Thau  so  hiraselfe  a  foolish  fowle  to  showe : 

Learne  you  by  mee,  that  count  your  selues  so  wise. 

The  worst  to  doubt  of  thinges,  what  ere  you  know. 

Fly  not  so  high  for  feare  you  fall  so  lowe  : 

The  massy  wight  is  far  to  great  for  fethery  downe  to  bearer 
Below  y'happy  man  knovves  when  tis  well  j  &  can contethym  there.* 

24, 

These  curious  artes  alurementes  haue  alone, 

They  profer  much  in  recompence  of  payne : 

But  yet  among'st  a  thousand  scarce  is  one 

In  practise,  ought  by  them  can  saue  or  gayne. 

You  see  perdy  they  are*  but  false  and  vayne 

^  Few  men  did  euer  vse  like  enterprise.  N. 

*  And  turne  and  winde  at  last  which  way  I  would.  N. 

*  And  in  the  fall  I  lost.  N.         »  This  was  my  race,  this  wasnijr  fatall  fall.  N"< 

*  In  their  eflfects  they  are.  N. 

'  Be  wise  in  artes  exceed  not  wisdome's  bound, 
The  depth  of  arte  by  wit  may  not  be  fotmd.  N. 


King  Bladud.  121 

Sophistical!,  deceiptfull,  [endlesse]  and  vntrue, 

That  nothing  haue  them  selues,  and  promise  all  to  you.* 

25. 

I  speake  not  of  the  rest  that  are  in  vse 

Amongst  the  wiser  sort,  Philosophy, 

Nor  of  the  partes  thereof,  but  ofth'abuse 

That  comes  by  magicke  arts  of  imagery, 

By  vile  inchaimtments,  charmes,  and  pampestry, 

All  which  I  deeme  (and  they  shall  finde  in  proofe)  as  euill 
That  practise  them,  as  is  (by  whom  they  deale)  the  diuell.* 

26. 

To  make  an  end :  you  noble  Kinges  content 

Your  selues  with  studies  serning  for  the  state : 

You  Lordes  also  with  all  your  wits  inuent 

What  way  t'eschewe  the  Prynce  and  people's  hate. 

Yee  subiects  loue  your  Prynce,  eschewe  debate. 
I  wish  you  all  beware  to  clime,  or  flee,  or  soare  to  hie, 
For  feare  you  tomble  downe,  or  slip,  or  fall,  as  erst  did  I.* 

♦  That  nothing  haue  yet  promise  all  to  you.  N. 
All  which  by  nature  are  abhor'd  as  euill, 
Practisde  by  fooles,  inuented  by  the  diuel).  JN. 

* Beware  of  climing  high, 

Lest  that  you  helpelesse  fall,  as  erst  did  I.  N. 
The  Authour. 
When  Bladud  thus  had  ended  quite  his  tale, 
And  tolde  his  life  as  you  haue  heard  before: 
He  toke  his  flight,  and  then  a  Lady  pale 
Appeard  in  sight,  beraide  with  bloudy  gores 
In  hande  a  knife  of  sanguine  dye  she  bore: 
And  in  her  breste  a  wounde  was  pearced  wyde. 
So  freshly  bledde,  as  if  but  than  she  dyde. 
She  staide  a  while,  her  coulour  came  and  went. 
And  doubtful  was  that  would  haue  tolde  hirpaine: 
In  wofull  sort  she  seemed  to  lament, 
And  could  not  wel  her  tongue  from  talke  refraine. 
For  why  her  griefes  vnfolde  she  would  right  faine. 
Yet  bashful!  was :  at  length  an  ende  to  make, 
Hir  Morpheus  wild,  and  then  thus  wyse  she  spake. 


122  Kmg  Bladud, 

LENUOY. 

1. 

Who  so  that  lakes  in  hand  the  aire  to  scale, 

As  Bind  d  here  did  take  on  him  to  flie : 

Or  Dedal" s  sonne  (as  Poets  tell  the  tale) 

Yong  Icarus,  that  flew  (they  say)  so  hie : 

Or  else  as  Simon  Magus  flew  perdy : 

Though  nere  so  well  his  plumes  and  winges  hee  decke, 
By  sea  h'is  droun'd,  by  land  hee  breakes  his  necke. 

2. 

On  ground  is  surest  place  for  men  to  goe, 

But  yet  take  heede  and  let  your  ground  bee  good  : 

The  surest  footing  is  perdy  beloe, 

Who  styes  the  aire  1  count  his  dealing  wood  : 

The  slender  buildings  hauty,  feoble  stoode, 

On  high  the  tempests  haue  much  powre  to  wrecke : 
Then  best  to  bide  beneath,  and  surest  for  the  necke. 

3. 

King  Bladud  yet  might  here  commended  bee. 

For  that  hee  loued  learning  all  his  dales : 

Eke  for  hee  built  an  Vniuersity 

At  Stamford  first,  hee  well  deserued  praise, 

But  now  his  nice  Cordila  here  assaies. 

From  bleeding  breast,  to  tell  her  woefuU  wrecke, 
With  knife  in  hand  her  desperate  death  to  decke. 


123 

HOW    QVEENE    COR- 

dila  in  dispaire  slew  her  selfe,  The 

yeare  before  Christ, 
800. 

1. 

If  any  woefiill  wight  hauc  cause  to  wayle  her  woe, 
Or  griefs  are  past  do  pricke  vs  Princes  tell  our  fall : 
My  selfe  likewise  must  needes  constrayned  eke  doe  so, 
And  shew  my  like  misfortunes  and  mishaps  withall. 
Should  I  kcepe  close  my  heauy  haps  and  thrall, 

Then  did  I  wrong :  1  wrong'd  my  selfe  and  thee, 

Which  of  my  facts  a  witnestrue  raaist  bee. 

2. 
A  woman  yei  must  blush  when  bashfull  is  the  case, 
Though  trueth  bid  tell  the  tale  and  story  as  it  fell : 
But  sith  that  1  mislike  not  audience,  time,  nor  place, 
Therefore  I  cannot  keepe  my  woes  in  counsaile'  well. 
^o  greater  ease  of  heart  then  griefes  to  tell, 

It  vaunteth  all  the  dolours  of  our  minde. 

Our  carefuU  hearts  thereby  great  comfort  finde. 

3. 
For  why  to  tell  that  may  recounted  bee  agayne. 
And  tell  it  as  our  cares  may  compasse  ease  : 
That  is  the  salue  and  medicine  of  our  payne. 
Which  cureth  corsies  all  and  sores  of  our  disease : 
H  doth  our  pinching  panges  and  paynes  apease : 
It  pleads  the  part  of  an  assured  friend, 
ind  tells  the  trade,  like  vices  to  amend. 

4. 
Therefore  if  I  more  willing  bee  to  tell  my  fall. 
With  my  mishaps*  to  ease  my  burdened  breast  and  minde: 
»  Cannot  still  keepe  in  my  counsaile.  ed.  1575.  *  And  shew  mishapt.  ib. 


124  Queene  Cordila, 

Sorae^  others  haply  may  auoide  and  shiinne  the  thrall, 

And  thereby  for  distresse  more  aide  and  comfort  finde. 

They  keeping-*  measure,  whereas  I  declinM, 

May  bee  as  prompt  to  flie^  iike  brute  and  blame 

As  I  to  tell,  or  thou  to  write  the  same. 

5. 

Wherefore  if  thou  wilt  afterwards  record^ 

What  Queene  Cordila  tells^  to  ease  her  inward  smarte, 

I  will  recite  my  story  tragicall  ech  word. 

To  thee  that  geu'st  an  eare,  and  ready  art.* 

But  lest  I  set  the  horse  behinde  the  cart, 

I  minde  to  tell  ech  thing  in  order,  so. 

As  thou  maist  see  and  shew  whence  sprang  ray  woe. 

6. 

My  grandsire  Bladud\\\g\\i,  that  found  the  bathes  by  skill, 

A  fethered  King  that  practis'd  highe  to  soared 

Whereby  hee  felt  the  fall,  God  wot  against  his  will. 

And  neuer  went,  road,  raygnd,  nor  spake,  nor  flew  no  more. 

After  whose  death  my  father'  Leire  therefore 

Was  chosen  King,  by  right  apparent  heyre, 

Which  after  built  the  towne  of  Leircestere» 

7. 

Hee  had  three  daughters,  first  and  eld'st  hight  Gonerelly* 

Next  after  her  his  yonger  Ragan}  was  begot : 

The  third  and  last  was  I  the  yongest,  nam'd  Cordell. 

Vs  all  our  father  Leire  did  loue  to  well,  God  wot.-* 

But*  minding  her  that  lou'd  him  best  to  note, 

3  That.  ed.  1575.  ♦  May  keep.  ib. 

'  And  willing  be  to  flye.  ib. 

*  For  sith  I  see  thee  prest  to  heare  that  wilt  recorde.  ib. 
7  What  I  Cordila  tell.  ib. 

*  To  thee  that  giu'st  an  eare  to  heare  and  ready  art.  ib. 

*  Praciisde  for  to  flye  and  soare.  ib. 

*  Who  dead  his  sonne  my  father,  ib. 

*  He  had  three  daughters  faire  the  first  hight  Gonerell.  N. 
'  My  sister  Ragan.  ed.  1575. 

*  And  of  vs  all  our  father  deirc  in  age  did  dote.  ib.  '  So.  ib. 


Queene  Cordila,  125 

Because  hee  had  no  sonne  t'enioy  his  land, 
Hee  thought  to  guerdon  most  where''  fauour  most  hee  fand. 

8. 
What  though  I  yongest  were,  yet  men  mee  iudg*d  more  wise 
Then  either  Gonerelly  or  Rag  an  more  of  age :' 
And  fairer  farre  :  wherefore  my  sisters  did  despise 
My  grace  and  giefts,  and  sought  ray  wrecke  to  wage.* 
But  yet  though  vice  on^  vertue  dye  with  rage, 
It  can  not  keepe  her  vnderneath  to  drowne : 
For  still'  shee  flittes  aboue,  and  reaps  renowne.* 

9. 
My  father  thought  to  wed  vs  vnto  Princely  peeres,' 
And  vnto  them  and  theirs  deuide  and  part  the  land. 
For  both  my  sisters  first  hee  cal'd^  (as  first  their  yeares 
Requir'd)  their  mindes,  and  loue,  and  fauoure  t'vnderstand. 
(Quoth  hee)  all  doubts  of  duty  to  aband, 
I  must  assay  your  frendly  faithes  to  proue : 
My  daughters,  tell  mee  how  you  doe  mee  loue.^ 

10. 
"Which  when  they  aunswerd  him  they  lou'd  their  father  more' 
Then  they  themselues  did  loue,  or  any  worldly  wight : 
He  praised  them,  and  sayd  hee  would  therefore' 
The  louing  kindnes  they  deseru'd  in  fine  requite. 

*  To  giue  where,  ed.  1575.  '  Had  more  age.  ib. 

*  My  prayse  t'asswage,  ib-  '  Gainst,  ib.  '  Bat  still,  ib. 

*  This  stanza  fallows  in  the  edit.  1575. 
Yet  nathelesse  my  father  did  me  not  mislike, 
But  age  so  simple  is  and  easy  to  subdue, 
As  childhode  weake  thats  voide  of  wit  and  reason  quite; 
They  thinke  thers  nought  you  flatter  fainde,  but  all  is  true, 
Once  old  and  twyse  a  childe  tis  said  with  you, 
Which  I  affirme  by  proofe  that  was  defiude, 
In  age  my  father  had  a  childishe  mindc. 
3  He  thought  to  wed  vs  vnto  nobles  three,  or  peres.  ib. 

*  Sent.  ib. 

^  I  must  assaye  and  eke  your  frendships  proue. 
Now  tell  me  eche  how  much  you  do  me  loue.  ib. 
'  Lou'dehim  well  and  more.  ib.  '  Would  agayne  therefore,  ib. 


H6  Queene  Cordila, 

So  found  my  sisters  fauour  in  his  siofht, 

By  flattery  faire  Ihey  won  their  father's  heart, 
"VVhicli  after  turned  hym  and  race  to  smart. 

But  not  content  with  this,  hee  asked  mee  likewise 

If  1  did  not  him  loue  and  honour  well. 

No  cause  (quofh  I)  (here  is  I  should  your  s;race  despise  : 

For  nature  so  doth  binde  and  duty  raee  compell, 

To  loue  you,  as  I  ought  my  father,  well. 

Yet  shortely  1  may  chaunce,  it"  Fortune  will, 
To  finde  in  heart  to  beare  another  more  sood  will. 

12. 

Thus  much  I  sayd  of  nuptiall  loues*  that  ment, 

Not  minding  once  of  hatred  vile  or  ire: 

And  partly  taxing  them,  for  which  intent 

They  set  my  fathers  heart  on  wrath  full  fire. 

**  Shee  neuer  shall  to  any  part  aspire 

Of  this  my  realme  (quoth  hee)  among'st  you  twayne: 
But  shall  without  all  dowry  aie  remaine." 

IS. 

Then  to  Maglaurus  Prince,  with  Albany  hee  gaue 

My  sister  Gonerell,  the  eldest  of  vs  all : 

*  But  not  content  with  this  he  minded  me  to  proue, 
For  why  he  wonted  was  to  loue  me  wonders  wel : 
How  much  dost  thou  (quoth  he)  Cordile  thy  father  loue 
I  wil  (sayd  I)  at  once  my  loue  declare  and  tell: 
I  lou'de  you  euer  as  my  father  well, 

No  otherwyse,  if  more  to  know  you  craue : 
We  loue  you  chiefly  for  the  goodes  you  haue. 

Thus  much  I  said,  the  more  their  flattery  to  detect 
But  he  rae  aunswered  therunto  again  with  ire, 
Because  thou  dost  thy  fathers  aged  yeare  neglect. 
That  lou'de  the  more  of  late  then  thy  deserts  require, 
Thou  neuer  shalt,  to  any  part  aspire 

Of  this  my  realme,  eniong  thy  sisters  twayne, 

But  euer  shalt  vndotid  ay  remayne. 

Then  to  the  king  of  Albany  for  wife  he  gaue 
My  sister  Gouereil,  the  eldest  of  vs  all : 


Queene  Cordila.  127 

And  eke  my  sister  Ragan  to  Ilinniue  to  haue, 
And  for  her  dowry  Camber  and  Cornwall. 
These  after  him  should  haue  his  Kingdome  all, 

Betweene  them  both  hee  gaue  it  franke  and  free, 

But  nought  at  all  hee  gaue  of  dowry  mee. 

14. 
At  last  it  chaunst  a  Prince  of  Fraunce  to  heare  my  fame. 
My  beauty  braue,  my  wit  was  blaz'd  abroad  ech  where. 
My  noble  vertues  prais'd  mee  to  my  father's  blame, 
Who  did  for  flattery  mee  lesse  friendly  fauour  beare.' 
Which  when  this  worthy  Prince  (I  say)  did  heare, 

Hee  sent  ambassage  lik'd  mee  more  then  life. 

And  soone  obtayned  mee  to  bee  his  wife. 

15. 
Prince  Aganippus  reau'd  mee  of  my  woe, 
And  that  for  vertues  sake,  of  dowryes  all  the  best : 
So  1  contented  was  to  Fraunce  my  father  fro 
For  to  depart,  and  hoapt  t'enioy  some  greater  rest. 

'  Who  for  I  could  not  flatter  did  lesse  fauour  beare.  N. 


And  eke  my  sister  Ragan  for  Hinnine  to  haue, 
Which  then  was  Prince  of  Camber  and  Cornwall: 
These  after  him  should  haue  his  kingdome  all 
Betwene  them  both,  he  gaue  it  franke  and  free: 
But  nought  at  all  he  gaue  of  dowry  mee. 

At  last  it  chaunst  the  king  of  Fraunce  to  here  my  fame. 
My  beuty  braue  was  blazed  al  abrode  eche  where : 
And  eke  my  vertues  praisde  me  to  my  fathers  blame 
Did  for  my  sisters  flattery  me  lesse  fauour  beare. 
Which  when  this  worthy  king  my  wrongs  did  heare. 
He  sent  ambassage  likte  me  more  then  life, 
T'intreate  he  might  me  haue  to  be  his  wife. 

My  father  was  content  with  all  his  harte,  and  sayde. 
He  gladly  should  obtaiiie  his  whole  request  at  will 
Concerning  me,  if  nothing  I  herin  denayde: 
But  yet  he  kept  by  their  mtisment  hatred  still, 


128  Queene  Cordila, 

"Where  liuing  well  belou'd,  my  ioyes  encreast : 
1  gate  more  fauour  iu  that  Prince  hif  sigiit. 
Then  euer  Princesse  of  a  Princely  wight. 

16. 
But  while  that  1  these  ioyes  so  well  enioy'd  in  Fraunce, 
My  father  Leire  in  Britaj/ne  waxt  vnweldy  old. 
Whereon  his  daughters  more  themselues  aloft  t'aduaunce 
Desir'd  the  Realme  to  rule  it  as  they  wolde. 
Their  former  loue  and  friendship  waxed  cold, 
Their  husbands  rebels  voyde  of  reason  quite 
Rose  vp,  rebeld,  bereft  his  crowne  and  right : 

17. 
Caus'd  him  agree  they  might  in  parts  equall* 
Deuide  the  Realme,  and  promist  him  a  gard 

*  Betwixt  their  husbands  twaine  they  causde  him  to  agree.  N. 


(Quoth  he)  your  prince  his  pleasure  to  fulfill, 
I  graunt  and  giue  my  daughter  as  you  craue : 
But  nought  ot  me  for  dowry  can  she  hauc. 

King  Aganippus  well  a  greed  to  take  me  so, 

Hee  depmde  that  vertue  was  of  dowries  all  the  best 

And  I  contented  was  to  Fraunce  my  father  fro 

For  to  depart,  and  hoapte  t'enioye  some  greater  rest. 

I  marled  was,  and  then  my  ioyes  encreaste,  ','i 

A  gate  more  fauoure  in  this  Prince  his  sight,   7 

Then  euer  Princesse  of  a  princely  wight. 

But  while  that  I  these  ioyes  enioyd  at  home  in  Fraunce, 
My  father  Loire  in  Britayne  waxed  aged  olde, 
My  sisters  yet  them  selues  the  more  aloft  t'aduaunce, 
Thought  well  they  might,  be  by  his  leaue,  or  sans  so  bolde: 
To  take  the  realme  and  rule  it  as  they  wolde. 
They  rose  as  rebels  voyde  of  reason  quite, 
And  they  depriu'de  him  of  his  crowne  and  right. 

Then  they  agreed,  it  should  be  into  partes  equall  "" 
Deuided :  and  my  fatherlhrescore  knigbtes  and  squires 


Queene  Cordild,  129 

Of  sixty  Kniijhls  on  him  attending  still  at  call.' 
But  in  six  monthes  such  was  his  hap  to  hard, 
That  Gonerell  of  his  retinue  barde 

The  halfe  of  thera,  shoe  and  her  husband  reft  : 

And  scarce  alovv'd  the  other  halfe  they  left. 

18. 
Eke  as  in  Albani/  lay  hee  lamenting  fates,* 
When  as  my  sister  so  soui^ht  all  his  vtter  spoyle  : 
The  meaner  vpstart  courtiers  thought  themsclucs  his  matcs^ 
His  daughter  him  disdayn'd  and  forced  not  his  foyle. 
Then  was  hee  fayne  for  succoure  his  to  toyle 

With  halfe  his  trayrie  to  CornwaU^  there  to  lie 

In  greatest  needc,  his  Ragari's  loue  to  try. 

ID. 
So  when  hee  came  to  Cornwall,  shee  with  ioy 
Receiued  him,  and  Prince  Maglaurus  did  the  like* 
There  hee  abode  a  yearc,  and  liu'd  without  anoy  : 
But  then  they  tooke  all  his  retinue  from  him  quite 

^  Of  sixtie  Knights  that  on  him  should  attendant  bee.  N< 
*  As  thus  in  his  distresse  he  lay  lamenting  fates.  N. 

Should  alvviiyes  haue,  atteiidingon  him  still  at  call. 

But  in  sixe  m')nihes  so  much  encreasid  hateful  Ires, 

That  Gonerell  denyde  all  his  desires. 

So  halfe  his  garde  she  and  her  husband  refte  : 
And  scarce  alowde  the  other  halfe  they  lefte. 

Eke  as  in  Scotlande  thus  he  lay  lamenting  fates, 
When  as  his  daughter  so  sought  all  his  vtter  spoyle, 
The  meaner  vpstart  gentles,  thought  them  selues  his  mates 
And  betters  eke,  see  htsre  an  aged  Prince  his  foyle, 
Then  was  he  fayne  for  succoure  his,  to  toyle, 

With  all  his  iinightes,  toCornewall  there  to  lye: 

In  greatest  nede  his  Ragan's  iuue  to  trie. 

And  when  he  came  to  Cornwall,  Ragan  then  with  ioye, 
Receiu'd  him  and  eke  hir  husband  did  tiie  like  : 
There  he  abode  ayeare  and  liu'de  without  anoy, 
But  then  they  tooke^  ail  his  retinue  from  him  quite 

K 


ISO  Queene  Cordila. 

Saue  only  ten,  and  sliew'd  him  daily  spite : 

Which  bee  bewayl'd  complayning  durst  not  striue. 
Though  in  disdayne  they  last  alow*d  but  fiue. 

20. 
What  more  despite  could  deuelish  beasts  deuise, 
Then  ioy  their  fathers  woefull  days  to  see  ? 
What  vipers  vile  could  so  their  King  despise, 
Or  so  vnkinde,  so  curst,  so  cruell  bee  ? 
From  thence  agayn  hee  went  to  Albany ^ 

Where  they  bereauM  his  seruaunts  all,  saue  one, 
Bad  him  -content  him  selfe  with  that,  or  none. 

21. 
Eke  at  what  time  hee  ask'd  of  them  to  haue  his  gard, 
To  gard  his  noble  grace  where  so  hee  went : 
They  cal'd  him  doting  foole,  all  his  requests  debard, 
Demaunding  if  with  life  hee  were  not  well  content : 
Then  hee  to  late  his  rigour  did  repent 

Gaynst  mee,  my  sisters'  fawning  loue  that  knew, 
Found  flattery  false,  that  seemM  so  faire  in  vew. 


Saue  only  ten,  and  shewde  him  dayly  spite. 

Which  he  bewailde  complaining  durst  not  striue, 
Though  in  disdayne  they  last  alowde  but  fiue. 

On  this  he  deerade  him  selfe  was  far  that  time  vnwyse, 
When  from  his  daaghter  Gonerell  to  Kagan  hee 
Departed  erste  yet  cache  did  him  poore  king  despise: 
Wherforc  to  Scotlande  once  againe  with  hir  to  bee, 
And  bide  he  went :  but  beastly  cruell,  shee 
Bereau'de  him  of  his  seruauntes  all  saue  one, 
Bad  him  content  him  selfe  with  that  or  none. 

Eke  at  what  time  he  askte  of  cache  to  haue  his  garde. 
To  garde  Ins  grace  where  so  he  walkte  or  wente  : 
They  calde  him  doting  foole  and  all  his  hestes  debavdc, 
Demaunded  if  with  life  he  could  not  be  coatcnte. 
Then  he  to  late  his  rigour  did  repente 

Gainst  me,  and  sayde,  Cordila  nowe  adieu : 
I  finde  the  wordes  thou  toldste  mee  to  to  true. 


Queene  Cordila. 

22. 
To  make  it  short,  to  Fraunce  hee  came  at  last  to  mce, 
And  told  mec  how  iny  sisters  eiiell '  their  father  vsde. 
Tlien  humbly  I  besought  my  noble  King  so  free, 
That  he  would  aide  my  father  thus  by  his  abusde  t 
Who  nought  at  all  my  humble  best  rcfusde, 
But  sent  to  eucry  coast  of  Fraunce  for  aide, 
Whereby  King  Leire  might  Iiomc  bee  well  conueydc. 

23. 
The  souldiours  gathered  from  ech  quarter  of  the  land 
Come  at  the  lengtli  to  know  the  noble  Prince's  will : 
Who  did  commit  tliem  vnto  captaynes  euery  band. 
And  I  likewise  of  loue  and  reuerent  meere  good  will 
Desir'd  my  Lord,  hee  would  not  take  it  ill, 
If  I  departed  for  a  space  withall. 
To  take  a  part,  or  ease  my  father's  thrall. 

24. 
Hee  graunted  my  request :  Thence  wee  ariued  here, 
And  of  our  Britai/nes  came  to  aide  likewise  his  right 

5  111.  N. 


And  to  be  short,  to  Fraunce  he  came  alone  to  mce, 
And  tolde  me  how  my  sisters  him  our  father  vsde: 
Then  I  besought  iny  king  with  teares  vpon  my  knee. 
That  he  would  aide  my  father  thus  by  them  misusde, 
Who  nought  at  all  my  humble  heste  refusde  : 
Rut  sent  to  euery  coaste  of  Fraunce  for  ayde, 
Wherwith  my  father  home  might  be  conueide. 

Thesoldiours^athered  from  eche  quarter  of  the  land, 
Camf  at  the  length  to  know  the  king  his  mind  and  wil : 
Who  did  commit  them  to  my  father's  aged  hand, 
And  I  likewise  of  loue  and  reuerent  mere  goodwill 
Desirde  my  king,  he  would  not  take  it  ill, 
If  I  departed  for  a  space  withall:     • 
To  take  a  parte,  or  ease  my  father's  thrall. 

This  had :  I  partid  with  my  father  from  my  fere, 
We  carae  to  Britayne  with  our  royal  campe  to  fight: 
K  2 


132  Queene  Cordila. 

Full  many  subiccts,  <^ood  and  stout  that  were : 

By  martiall  feats,  and  force,  by  subjects  sword  and  migbt, 

The  British  Kings  were  faync  to  yeeld  our  right : 

Which  wonne,  my  father  well  this  Realnie  did  guide 
Three  yeares  in  peace,  and  after  that  hee  dyde. 

25. 
Then  I  was  crowned  Queene  this  Realme  to  hold,*^ 
Till  fiue  yeares  past  I  did  this  Island  guyde  : 
I  had  the  Britaj/nes  at  what  becke  1  wouid,^ 
Till  that  ray  louing  King  mine  Aganippus  dide  : 
But  then  ray  seat  it  faltered  on  ech  side, 

My  sisters  sonnes^  began  with  raee  to  iarre  : 

And  for  my  crowne  wagde  with  mee  raortall  warre.' 

The  one  hight  Morgan  Prince'  oi  Albany, 
And  Conidagus  King  of  Cornwall  and  of  Wales: 

*'  And  I  was  Queene  the  kins^Home  after  stil  to  holde.  ed.  1575. 

^  Becke  and  bay  I  woldc.  ib.  *  Two  churlishe  inipes.  ib. 

*  This  stanza  follows  in  edir.  1575. 

Tlie  on*  hight  Morgan  th*  elder  sonne  of  Gonnerell, 
My  sister,  and  that  other  Conidagus  higbt. 
My  sister  Ragan's  sonne,  that  tou'de  me  neuer  well, 
Both  nephewes  mine  yet  would  against  mee  Cordell  fight, 
Because  I  lou'de  always  that  semed  right ; 
Therefore  they  hated  mee  and  did  pursue 
Their  aunte  and  Queene  as  she  had  bene  a  jewe. 

'  This  MorKine  was  that  time  the  Prince,  ib. 


And  manly  fonght  so  long  ourenmies  vanquisht  were 
By  martial  feates,  and  force  by  subiects  sword  and  might. 
Tlie  Brityshe  kinoes  were  faine  to  yelde  our  right : 
And  so  my  father  well  this  realme  did  guide, 
Tlute  yeares  in  peace  and  after  that  he  dide. 

Tlicn  I  at  Leirccster  in  lanus  temple,  made 
W.-i  tombe,  and  buried  there  his  kingly  regall  corse, 
As  sondry  tymes  in  life  before  he  often  bade  : 
For  of  our  father's  will  we  then  did  greatly  force, 
We  had  of  conscience  eke  so  much  remorce. 
That  we  supposdc  those  childrens  liues  to  ill : 
Which  brake  their  father's  testament, and  will- 


QuQcne  Cordila,  153 

Both  which  at  once  prouidcd  their  artillery, 

To  worke  mee  woefull  woe,  and  mine  adherents  bales. 

What  neede  I  fill  thine  earcs  with  longer  tales  ? 

They  did  preuaile  by  might  and  powre,  so  fast 

That  I  was  taken  prisoner  at  last. 

27. 
In  spitefull  sorte  they  vsed  then  my  captiue  corse  : 
No  favour  shewde  to  mee,  extinct  was  mine  estate  : 
Of  kinred,  Prynces,  bloud,  or  peerc  was  no  remorce, 
But  as  an  abiect  vile,  and  worse,  they  did  mee  hate. 
To  lie  in  darkesome  dungeon  was  my  fate, 

As  t'were  a  thiefe,  mine  aunsweres  to  abide, 

Gaynst  right  and  justice,  vndcr  Jailour's  guide. 

28. 
For  liberty  at  length  I  su'd  to  subiccts  were : 
But  they  kept  mee  in  prison  close,  deuoide  of  trust: 
If  I  might  once  escape,  they  were  in  dread  and  feare 
Their  fawning  friends  with  mee  would  proue  vntrue  and  lust. 
They  told  mee  take  it  patiently  I  must, 
And  bee  contented  that  1  bad  ray  life : 

Sith  with  their  mother's  I  began  the  strife. 

29. 
Whereby  I  sawe  might  nothing  mee  preuaile  to  pray, 
To  pleade,  or  proue,  defend,  excuse,  or  pardon  craue: 
They  heard  mee  not,  despis'd  my  plaints,  sought  my  decay, 
I  might  no  lawe,  nor  loue,  nor  right,  nor  justice  haue. 
No  friends,  no  faith,  nor  pittie  could  mee  saue  : 

But  I  was  from  all  hope  of  freedome*  bard, 

Condem'd,  my  cause  like  ncuer  to  bee  heard. 

SO. 
Was  euer  noble  Quecne  so  drencht  in  wrecks  of  woe,* 
Depos'd-*  from  Princely  powre,  bereft  of  liberty, 

^  Licence,  ed.  1575. 

3  Was  euer  lady  iu  such  wofuU  wreckfull  wo.  ib, 

'^  Dcpriu'de,  ib. 


134  Queene  Cordila. 

Depria'd  of  all  these  worldlj  porapes  her  pleasures  fro, 
And  brought  from  wealth  fo  neede,  distresse,  and  misery, 
From  Pallacc  proude  in  prison  poore  to  lie, 

From  Kingdomes  twayne,  to  dungeon  one,  no  more. 

From  Ladies  wayting,  vnto  vermine  store  ? 

SI. 
From  light  to  darke,  from  holesome  aire  io  lothsom  smell, 
From  odoure  sweete  to  smart,  from  ease  to  greeuous  paine, 
From  sight  of  Princely  Wights,  to  place  where  theues  doe  dwell, 
From  dainty  beds  of  downe,  io  bed  of  strawe  full  fayne: 
From  bowres  of  heauenly  hewe,  to  dennes  of  dainc : 

From  greatest  haps  that  worldly  wights  atchiue. 

To  more  distresse  then  any  wretch  aliue  ? 

32. 
When  first  I  left  ray  friends  in  Fraunce  did  me  exalte,' 
And  eke  ray  noble  King,  mine  Aganippiis  true  : 
And  came  to  England,  for  their  hcynous  facts  and  faulte, 
"Which  from  his  right  and  kingdome  quite  our  father  threwe, 
To  take  his''  Realme :  to  raigne  and  treason  knewe, 

I  thinke  of  all  misfortunes  was  the  worst : 

Or  else  I  dcerac  the  causers  all  accurst. 

33. 
For  marke  my  haplcsse  fall  that  fortune  did  me  send,' 
As  thus  in  prison^  vile  on  Hue 9 1  lingring  lay. 
When  I  had  mourned  long,  but  found  no  faythfull  frend 
That  could  me  helpc,  or  ayde,  or  comfort  any  way. 
Was  seru'd  at  meate  as  those  that '  Kinges  betray 

With  fare  God  wote  was  simple,  bare,  and  thin, 

Could  not  sustayne  the  corps  it  entred  in. 

5  When  first  I  left,  the  crownc  of  France  did  mc  exhalt.  ed.  1575. 

■When  friends  I  left  in  France  that  did  me  first  exhalt.  Nt 
^  This.  ed.  1575. 

'  That  drawes  at  length  to  ende.  ib. 
*  As  in  this  pryson,  ib. 
'^  Vile  aliue.  N.  »  Their,  ed.  1575. 


Quecne  Cordila.  135 

34. 
And  when  the  sighes,  and  teares,  and  playntes  nigh  burst  my  hart, 
And  place,  and  stenche,  and  fore  nigh  poysond  cuery  pore : 
For  lacke  of  frends  to  tell  ray  seas  of  giltlesse  smart, 
And  that  mine  eyes  had  sworne  to  take  sweete  sleepe  no  more, 
1  was  content,  sith  cares  oppresse  me  sore, 

To  leaue  my  foode,  take  mourning,  playnts,  and  crye, 

And  lay  mee  downe,  let  griefe  and  nature  trye. 

35. 
Thus  as  I  pining  lay,  ray  carcas  coucht  on  strawe,* 
And  felt  the  payne  erst  neuer  creature  earthly  knewc, 
Mee  thought  by  night  a  grizely  ghost  in  darkes  I  sawe, 
Eke  nearer  still  to  mee  with  stealing  steps  shee  drewe  : 
Shee  was  of  colour  pale  and  deadly'  hewe. 

Her  clothes  resembled  thousand  kinds  of  thrall, 

And  pictures  plaine  of  hastened  deathes  withall. 

36. 
I  musing  lay  in  paines,  and  wondred  what  shee  was, 
Mine  eyes  stood  still,  mine  haire  rose  vp  for  feare  an  end, 
My  flesh  it  shoke  and  trembled  :  yet  1  crydc  (alas) 
"What  wight  art  thou,  a  foe  or  else  what  fawning  frend  ? 
If  death  thou  art,  I  pray  thee  make  an  end. 
But  th'art  not  death.    Art  thou  some  fury  sent, 
My  woeful!  corps,  with  paynes,  to  more  torment  ? 

37. 
With  that  shee  spake :  "  I  am  (quoth  shee)  thy  frend  Despayre, 
Which  in  distresse  each  worldly  wight  with  speede  do  ayde : 
1  rid  them  from  their  foes,  if  I  to  them  repayre. 
To  long  from  thee  by  other  caytiues  was  I  stayde. 
Now,  if  thou  art  to  dye  no  whit  afrayde. 

Here  shaltthou  choose  of  Instruments  (beholde) 

Shall  rid  thy  restlesse  life,  of  this  be  bolde." 

*  Cartas  on  couch  of  straw,  ed.  1575. 
'  A  deadly,  ib. 


136  Qiieenc  Cordila, 


And  therewithal!  shce  threwe  her  garments  lap  aside, 
Vndcr  the  which  a  tliousand  thinges  1  sawe  with  eyes  x 
Both  kiiiues,  sharpe  swordes,  poynadoes-*  allbedjde 
W  ith  bloud,  and  poysonsprest  which  shee could  well  deuise. 
'*  There  is  no  hope  (quoth  shee)  for  thee  to  rise, 

And  get  thy  Crowne  or  Kyngdomc  reftc  agyne  i' 

But  for  to  Hue  long  lasting  pyning  payne. 

S9. 
"  Lo  here  (quoth  shee)  the  blade  that  Did*  of  Carthage  hight, 
Whereby  shee  was  from  thousand  panges  of  payne  let  passe  : 
With  this  shee  slewe  her  selfe,  after  jEneas'  flight, 
When  hee  to  Sea  from  Ti/tian  shoares  departed  was. 
Doe  choose  of  these  thou  seest  from  woes  to  passe. 

Or  bide  the  end,  prolong  thy  paynfull  dayes. 

And  I  am  pleasde  from  thee  to  packe^  my  wayes." 

40. 
With  that  was  1  (poore  wretche)  content  to  take  the  knife, 
But  doubtful!  yet  to  dye,  and  fearefull  fayne  would  byde. 
So  still  1  lay  in  study  with  my  selfe  at  bate  and  strife, 
What  thing  were  best  of  both  these  deepe  cxtreamcs  vntryde, 
Good  Hope''  all  reasons  of  Despaj/re  denyde : 
.  And  shce  ngayne  replyde,  to  prone  it  best 

To  dye,  for  still  in  life  my  woes  increast. 

41. 
Shee  ca!*d  to  minde  the  ioyes  in  Fraunce  1  whilome  had  : 
Shce  told  me  what  a  troupe  of  Ladyes  was  my  trayne  : 
And  how  the  Lordes  o( Fraunce,  and  Britai/nes,  both  were  glad 
Of  late  to  wayte  on  mee,  and.  subiccts  all  were  fayne  : 
She  tolde  1  had  bin  Queene  of  Kingdomes  twayne, 

And  how  my  kinesmen*  had  my  scale  and  Crowne. 

I  could  not  rise,  for  euer  fallen  downe. 

♦  i.  e.  poniards.  '  Orlibertie  agaync.  ed.  1575. 

*  Get.  ib.  '  My  Hope.  ib.  *  iSephewes.  ib. 


Queerie  Cordila,  ^  I37 

42. 

A  thousand  1  Iiinges  beside  recited  then  Despaijre  : 
Slice  to!de  the  woes  in  warres,  that  I  had  lieapt  of  late, 
Rcliearst  tlie  prison  vile  in  steede  of  Palhvce  fayre, 
My  locljrin^  lowe  anrl  mouldy  meates  my  mouth  did  hate ; 
Shee  shewde  mce  allthedongcon  where  I  sate, 

The  dankish  walles,  the  darkes,  and  bade  mee  smell. 

And  byde  the  sauour  if  1  likt  it  well . 

43. 
Whereby  1  wretch  den oyd  of  comfort  quite  and  hope, 
And  pleasures  past  comparde  with  present  paynes  I  had. 
For  fatall  knife  slipt  forth,  my  fearefull  hand  did  grope: 
Despa//re  in  this  to  nyde  my  senceles  limmes  was  glad, 
And  gauc  the  blade  :  to  end  my  woes  she  bad. 

"  I  will  (quolli  1)  but  first  with  all  my  hart 

He  pray  (o  Gods,  reuengc  my  woefull  smart, 

44. 
"  If  any  wrong  deserue  the  wrccke,  I  pray  yon  skyes, 
And  starres  of  light,  (if  you  my  plight*^  doe  rue) 

0  Phoebus  cleere,  1  thee  beseecli  and  pray  likewise, 
Beare  witnes  of  my  playnts  well  knowne  to  Gods  are  true. 
You  see  from  whence  these  iniurycsthey  grue. 

Then  let  like  vengeaunce  hap  and  light  on  those, 
"Which  vndeserued  were  my  raortall'  foes. 

45. 
*'  God  graunf  immbrtall*  strife  betweene  them  both  may  fall, 
That  th'  one'  the  other  may,  without  remorce,  distroyc  : 
That  Conidagus  may  bis  cosin  Morgan  thrall. 
Because  hee  first  decreast  my  wealth,  bereft  my  ioye. 

1  pray  you  Gods  he  neuer  be  a  Ro?/ : 

"  My  wofull  plight,  ed.  1575. 

'  Deadly,  ib.  *  A  mortal,  ib. 

'  That  one.  ib. 


138  Queene  CorcUlad  ' 

But  caytife  may  be  payde  with  such  a  frend, 

As  shortly  may  him  bring  to  sodayne  end. 

46. 
**  Farewell  my  Real  me  of  Fraunccy  [arev/eW,  Adieu, 
Adieu  mes  nobles  ious,  and  England  now  farewell : 
Farewell  Madames  my  Ladycs,  car  ie  suis  perdu, 
II  we  fault  aler  desespoir  m*adonne  conseil 
De  me  tuer,  no  more  your  Qneene  farewell. 

My  cousens^  mee  oppresse  with  mayne  and  might, 

A  captiue  poore,  gaynst  Justice  all  and  right.'* 

47. 
And  therewithall  the  sight  did  fayle  my  dazeling  eyne, 
I  nothing  sawe  saue  sole  Dispaire  bad  mee  dispatch  : 
Whome  1  behelde  :  shee  caught  the  knife  from  mee  I  weene, 
And  by  hir  elbowe  carian  death  for  me  did  watch. 
"  Com  on  (quod  I)  thou  hast  a  goodly  catch." 

And  therewithall  Dispaire  the  stroke  did  strike, 

Whereby  1  dyde,  a  damned  creature  like : 

48. 
Which  1  to  late  bewayle,  let  those  aiiue  beware ;' 
Let  not  the  losse  of  goods  or  honours  them  constrayne 
To  playe  the  fooles,  and  take  such  carefull  carkc  and  care; 
Or  to  dispayrc  for  any  prison,  pine,  and  payne; 
Jf  they  be  giltlesse  let  them  so  remayne ; 

Farre  greater  follye  is  it  for  to  kill, 

Themselues  dispayring,  then  is  any  ill. 

49. 
Sith  first  thereby  theyr  enmj'es  haue  that  they  desire. 
By  which  they  proue  to  deadly  foes  vnwares  a  frende  : 
And  next  they  cannot  Hue,  to  former  blisse  t'spyre, 

*  Nephewes.  ed.  1575. 

*  Which  I,  alasse,  lament,  bid  those  aliue  beware,  ib. 


I 


Queene  Cordila.  139 


If  God  do  bring  tlieyr  foes  in  time  to  sodayne  ende. 

They  lastly,  as  the  damned  wretches,  scnde 
Theyr  soules  thereby  to  darkesome  Stygian  lake, 
Which  kill  the  corps  that  mighty  loue  did  make.'^ 
/ 

LENUOY. 

1. 

Wlien  as  this  desperate  Queene  had  ended  thus 
Her  tale,  and  tolde  the  haplesse  grace  she  had  : 
As  of  her  playnte  som  poyntes  1  did  discusse. 
Her  sisters  dealings  Avere  (mee  thought)  to  bad. 
Her  cosens  cruell  both,  for  Kingdomes  mad. 
Her  owne  estate  most  pityfull  to  see, 
A  Queene  by  kinred  captiue  kepte  to  bee. 


*  Their  soules  to  hell,  when  as  they  vndertake 
To  kill  a  corps,  which  God  did  liuely  make. 

The  /\uTiiouii. 
Now  when  this  desperate  Queene  had  ended  thus 
Ilir  tale,  and  told  what  haplesse  grace  she  had  : 
As  of  hir  talke  some  pointes  I  did  discusse, 
In  slomber  fain  I  waxed  wondrous  sad, 
Hir  nephewcs  dealings  were  me  thoui^ht  to  bad: 
Which  greu'de  me  much,  but  Morpheus  Lad  let  bee, 
And  therewithall  presented  one  to  nice. 

Of  stature  tall  a  worthy  princely  wight, 
In  countonuunce  he  seemde  yet  mourning  ttill; 
His  complet  harnessc  not  so  brauc  in  siglit, 
Nor  sure  as  ours,  made  now  adaycs  by  skill : 
But  clampt  together,  ioynts  but  ioyncd  ill : 
Vnfit,  vnhandsome,  hcauy,  houge,  and  plaine, 
Vpweld y  wearing,  ratling  like  a  chnine. 

Wherthrough  he  had  receu'de  a  deadly  stroake, 
By  sworde,  or  other  instrument  of  warre, 
And  downe  iiis  thjglies  tiie  bloud  by  sithes  did  soake 
Which  I  perceiued  as  became  a  farre. 
Now  sith  (quolh  he)  to  heare  you  present  are : 
I  will  declare  my  name,  lite,  factcs  and  fall, 
And  therevrith  thus  he  gan  to  tell  it  all.  ed.  1675. 


140  Queene  Cordila, 

2. 

So  wise  a  Queene,  so  fay  re  a  Princesse  wrongde, 
So  dutifuU  in  parents  plight  ofyore : 
By  rebells  vile  hir  coilsens  to  bee  throngde, 
Such  hatred  hir  ambicionsly  that  bore. 
Who  euer  saw  such  cruelty  before  ? 

Cordilacs  slate  most  jiitifull  to  sec, 

By  kinrcd  cloce  in  prison  kepte  to  bee.  • 

'  The  tale  of  the  5:entle  Coniolia  and  her  iiiifortuuate  and  too  credulous 
futiier  is  better  known  Trom  tlie  pajxes  of  Shakespeare  than  those  of  History. 
Though  in  both,  if  not  entirely  sprnng  from,  it  is  enlarged  by  fable,  yet  tlie 
interest  that  has  been  excited  by  the  drama  justifies  the  givins;  it  herefrom 
manuscript,  in  one  of  its  earliest  shapes,  which  as  such  forms  a  valuable  record. 

Of  King  Leir  and  of  the  answere  of  his  yonge%t  dovghter  that  graciously  was 
mariede  to  the  hyng  of  Fraunce. 

After  kyng  Biadud  regned  Leir  his  sone:  and  this  Leirmade  the  toune  of 
Leicestre  and  lete  calle  the  toune  after  his  name  and  he  gouernede  the  londe 
welle  and  nobly.  This  kyng  Leir  had  iij  doughtcrs  the  first  bight  Gonorill,  the 
secund  Rigan  and  the  tliird  Cordeill,  and  the  yongest  doughter  was  fairest  and 
bestof  coudicions.  The  kyngc  hire  fader,  become  au  olde  man,  and  wolde  that 
his  doughtres  had  been  maried  or  that  he  deide:  but  first  he  thought  to  assaie 
whiche  of  ham  [them]  loued  him  best  and  moste,  for  she  that  loued  him  best 
shuld  beste  be  maried.  And  he  asked  »)f  the  first  doughter  how  moche  sheo 
[she]  him  louede  ?  and  she  answerd  and  saide,  better  than  bier  oune  life.  Now 
certes  qunth  the  fader  that  is  a  gretc  loue.  Tho  [then]  axede  he  of  the  secunde 
doughter,  hou  moche  sheo  him  louede?  and  sheo  said  more  and  passing  alle 
creatures  of  the  world.  Ma  foy,  quath  the  fader,  more  may  I  nought  axen.  And 
tho  axed  he  of  the  thirde  doughter,  hou  moche  sheo  him  louede?  Certes  fader 
quoth  she,  my  sustres  haue  tolde  you  glosyng  wordes,  but  for  suthe  I  shalle 
telle  you  treuthe,  for  I  louc  you  as  moche  as  I  owe  to  loue  roy  fadere,  and  for  to 
bryng  you  more  in  certeyn  howe  love  goth,  I  shalle  you  telle,  for  as  moche  as  ye 
be  worthe  so  muche  shal  ye  be  louede.  The  kyng  hire  fader  hadde  wente  sheo 
hadde  hyra  scorned  and  become  wonder  wrothe  and  swore  be  heuen  and  erthe 
that  she  shuld  neuer  haue  good  of  him:  but  his  doughtres  that  loued  him  so 
moche  shuld  be  welle  auaunced  and  maried.  And  the  first  doughter  he  maried 
to  Mangles  kyng  of  Scotlande  and  the  secunde  he  maried  to  Hauemos  Erie  of 
Cornewaille  and  so  they  ordcynede  and  speken  bttwene  ham  [them]  that  they 
shulde  departe  the  reame  belwene  ham  too  afier  the  dethe  of  Leir  Jiire  [theirj 
.  fader.  So  that  Cordeill  his  yongest  doughter  shulde  no  thing  haue  of  his  lande. 
But  this  Cordeill  was  wonderous  faire  and  of  so  good  coudicions  and  maners  that 
the  kyng  of  Fraunce  Agampe,  herde  of  hire  speke  and  sent  to  Leir,  hire  fader,  for 
to  haue  hire  vnto  wife  and  prayed  him  therof.  And  kyng  Leir  hire  fader  sente 
bim  worde  that  he  had  departed  his  londe  vnto  his  two  other  doughters  and  saide 
he  hadde  no  more  lande  wherewith  hire  for  to  marien:  And  whenne  Agampe 
hcrde  this  answere  he  sente  anone  ayeyn  to  Leir  and  said,  that  he  axid  no  thyng 


Queene  Cordild.  141 

But  next  from  Wales  in  warlike  armoure  came 
\Vith  wounded  corps  Morgimus  th'  Albane  kin"-, 
In  woefull  wise  his  doubltuU  tale  to  frame. 

with  hire,  but  onliclie  hire  clothyng  and  hire  bodie.  And  anoiie  kiiigLeir  hire 
fader  sente  hire  ouer  the  see  to  the  k vug  of  Fraunce  and  he  rcceyuede  hire  witb 
mochel  worshipp,  and  witli  moche  solenipnite  Ijire  spousede  and  made  hire  quene 
of  France. 

How  Kt/ng  Leir  was  driven  oute.  of  his  londe  thurz  hisfohj  and  how  Cordil  his 

yongest  daughter  helped  him  at  his  nede. 
Tlius  hit  felle  afterwarde  that  tho  two  eldest  doughtres  wolde    nought  abide 
til  that  Leir  hire  fader  were  dede  but  werred  vppon  him  whiles  that  he  leued  and 
moche  sorwe  and  shame  hini  dede.     Whertbre  thei  benomen  him  holly  thereume 
and  betwene   ham   had   ordeyned   that  one  of  ham  shulde  haue  kyng  Leir  to 
soiourne  all   his   life  tyme  with  xl  [Ix]  knyghtes  and  hire  squiers,  that  he  myght 
worshipfiilly  gone  and  ride  whider  tiiat  he  wolde  into  what  contre  that  him  likede 
to  playn  and  to  solacen.     So  that  Managles  kyng  of  Scotland  had  kj'ng  Leir  with 
him  in  the  maner  as  is  aboue  seide  and  or  other  Jialfe  yere  were  passide  Corneill 
[sic]  his  eldest  dougbter  that  was  quene  of  Scotland  was  so  anoyed  of  him  and  of 
his  peple  that  anone  he  and  iiire  lorde  speken  togedres.     Wherfore  his  knyghtes 
and  his  squyers  half  frame  him  were  gone  and  no  mo  lefte  but  oneliche  xxx.  And 
whenne  this  was  done  Leir  began  for  to  make  moche  sorowe,   for  incheson  that 
hisastate  was  inpeired,  and  men  had  of  him  more  scorne   and   despite   thanne 
euere  thei   hadde  beforne.     Wherfore  he  wiste  neiier  what  to  done  and  atte  the 
laste  thougiit   that  he  woide  wende  into  Cornewaile  to  Ragan  his  other  doughter. 
And  whenne  he  was  come  tiiere,  the  Erie  and  his  wife  that  was  Leier's  doughter, 
him    welcoraerie    and  with  him  made  muche  io}',  and  there  he  dwelled  with  xxx 
knyghtes  and  squyers.     And   he  had  dweliede  there  scarsly  tuclf  month  tliat  his 
doughter  of  him  nas  fulle  and  of  his  companye,  and  hire  lorde  and  shee  of  him 
had  scorne  and  despite  so  that  fro  xxx  knyghtes  thei  brougten  vnto  ten  and  after- 
warde five  and  so  there  lefte  with  him  no  mo.    '1  ho  made  he  sorvre  enougl)  and 
said,  sorewepying :  alias  that  euere  he  come  into  that  lande.  And  seid  yit  had  me 
better  for  to  haue  dweliede  with  my  ferst  doughter.     And  anone  wente  thennes  a 
yein  to  his  first  doughter :  but  anone  as  she  sawe  him  come,  she   swore  be  God 
and  his  holy  names,  and  be  as  moche  as  she  niyght  that  he  shulde  haue  no  mo 
with  him  but  on  knyght  if  he  wolde  there  abide.     1  ho  began  Leir  wepe  and  made 
moche  sorwe  and  said,  tho'alias  nou  to  longe  haue  I  leuede  that  this  sorwe   and 
mischefe  is  to   me  aowe  falle:  for  now  am  I  pouer  that  somtyme  was  riche  bul 
,     nou  haue  I  no  i'rende  ne  kyn  that  me  wolle  done  eny  goode.     But  wheivne  that  I 
was  riche  alle  men  me  honoured  and  worbheped  and  now  euery  man   hath  of  me 
scorne  and  despite :  And   now    I  wote  that  Cordeil  my  yong  doughter  saide  me 
ireuthe  whenne  she  saide  asi  moche  as  I  hadde  so  moche  shulde  I  bene  beloucd. 
And   alle  tlre'vcliite  ^lat  I  hadde  good  tho  was  I  beloued  and  honoured  for  my 
vichesse:  but  my   twoxloughteres  me  glosed  tiio  and  now  of  me  thei  setten  litel 
price.     And  sothe  [truth!   tolde  me  Cordeil  but  I  wolde   nought  beiyve   hit  ne 
vftderstonde ;  And  therefore  I  lete  hire  gone  (ro  rae  as  a  thing  that  I  sette  litel 


142  Queene  Cordila, 

And  of  his  auntes  distresse  reports  each  thing. 
Hee  from  Glamorgan  this  for  truth  doth  bring, 

That  who  by  slaughter  seekes  a  prince  to  bee, 

As  traytoure  falles  beneath  his  first  degree. 

price  of  and  now  wote  I  neuer  what  for  to  done  sith  my  ij  dougliteres  haue  me 
thus  deceyuede  that  I  so  raoche  louede.  And  nou  mote  I  nedes  scchen  hire  that 
is  in  another  lande,  tha  lightely  I  lete  hire  gone  fro  me  «ith  cute  eny  rewarde  of 
yiftes.  And  sheo  said  she  loued  me  as  moche  as  she  aught  hire  fadrehy  al  manere 
resonn  :  And  tho  I  shulde  haue  axed  of  hire  no  more,  and  tho  that  me  otherwise 
behighten  thurgh  hire  fals  speche  nou  haue  me  deceyued.  In  this  maner  Leir 
longe  tyrae  him  began  to  make  his  mone  and  at  the  laste  he  shope  him  to  the  see 
and  passed  ouer  into  Fraunce  and  axede  and  aspiede  where  the  quene  myghtcn 
bene  founde  and  men  tolde  where  that  she  was.  And  whenne  he  come  to  the  cite 
that  sheo  was  inne  priuiliche  he  sente  his  squycr  to  the  quene  to  telle  here  that  hire 
fadere  was  comen  to  hier  for  grete  nede.  And  wlienne  the  squyer  come  to  the 
quene  he  tolde  hire  euere  dele  of  hire  sustres  fro  the  beginnyng  vnto  the  cnde. 
Cordeil  the  quene  anone  nome  gold  and  s-iluer  grete  plente  and  toke  hit  to  the 
squier  in  counsel!  that  he  shulde  gone  into  a  certcyn  citee  and  him  arrayen,  bathen, 
and  wesshen,  and  then  come  ayein  to  hire  and  bringe  with  him  an  honest  com- 
panye  of  knyghtes,  fourty  atte  the  Icste  with  hire  mayne :  and  thanne  he  shulde 
sende  to  hire  lorde  the  kyng  and  sein  that  lie  were  comen  for  to  spekc  with  his 
doughtcr  and  him  for  to  seen.  And  whenne  the  kyng  and  the  quene  herde  that 
be  come  they  hym  receyued  with  mochel  honour.  The  kyng  of  Fraunce  tho  lete 
sende  thurgh  alle  his  reame  and  comanded  that  al  men  to  him  shulde  ben  cnten- 
daunt  to  Lier  the  quenes  fader  in  al  maner  of  thing  as  hit  were  to  himselfe. 
Whenne  Lier  hadde  duelled  their  a  niontheand  more  he  tolde  to  the  kyng  and  to 
the  quene  his  doughter  hou  histueyn  eldest  doughtres  had  him  serued.  Agampe 
anone  lete  ordeyne  a  grete  hoostc  of  Fraunce  and  sente  hit  into  Brutaine  with 
Leir,  the  quenes  fader,  for  to  eonquere  his  lande  ayein  and  his  kyngdome.  And 
Cordeill  also  come  with  hire  fader  into  Brutaine  for  to  haue  the  reame  after  heir 
fadres  deth.  And  anone  thei  wentc  to  shipp  and  passede  the  see  and  come 
into  Brutaigne  and  foughten  with  the  felons  and  ham  scomfetede  and  quelde  and 
Leir  tho  had  his  lande  ayein  and  after  leued  iij  yere  and  heltle  his  reame  in  pees 
and  afterward  deid  and  Cordeil  his  doughtere  him  lete  enterc  with  mochel  honour 
at  Leycetre. — Whenne  that  kyng  Leir  was  dede  Cordeill  his  yongeste  doughter 
helde  and  hadde  the  lande  v  yere  and  in  the  mene  tyme  deide  here  lorde  Agampe 
that  was  kyng  of  Fraunce  and  efter  his  dethe  she  leftc  wedowe.  And  tho  come 
Morgan  and  Ccnadage,  that  wer  Cordiell  sistre  sones,  and  to  hire  had  enuye  for  as 
moche  that  hire  aunte  shuld  haue  the  lande  :  so  that  betwene  ham  they  ordeyncd  a 
grete  pouer  and  vppon  hire  werrede  gretely,  and  neuere  they  reste  til  that  they 
hadde  here  taken  and  putte  hire  vnto  dethe.    M.  S.  Brute. 


143 

HOW    KING    MORGAN 

of  Albany  was  slayne  at  Glamorgan. 

in  Wales,  The  yeare  before  Christ, 
766. 

1. 

I  Wot  not  well  what  reasons  I  may  vse, 
To  quit  myselfe  from  lasting  infamy  :^ 
Wherefore  1  must  perforce  myselfe  accuse  : 
1  was*  in  fault  I  cannot  it  denye. 
Reniorce  of  conscience  pricks  my  harte  so  nye, 

And  mee  torments  with  panges  of  pinching  pay ne, 

I  can  no  longer  mee  from  speache  refrayne 

2. 
1  am  that  Morgan  sonne  of  Gonerell 
Th'ungratefull  daughter  of  hire  father  Leire: 
Which  from  his  Kingdome  did  him  once  expell, 
As  by  the  British  storycs  may  appeare. 
Ragan  and  shee  conspirde  (both  sisters  were) 

But  were  subdude  agayne  and  caus'd  to  yelde 

Theyr  fathers  Crowne :  Cordila  wan  the  field. 

3. 
i  need  not  heare  the  storyes  all  recite; 
It  were  to  long,  but  yet  I  briefly  shall : 
The  cause  Cordila  ought  her  sisters  spite 
Was,  they  procur'd  her,  and  their  father's  thrall. 
Yet  t'was  her  chaunce  at  length  t'out  liue  them  ail, 

Both  sisters  elder,  and  her  father  graue, 

And  eke  at  length  the  kingdome  all  to  haue. 

4. 
That  time  was  I  of  Albany  the  King, 
Cal'd  Scotland  now,  and  eke  my  cousin  then, 

'  Selfe  from  blame,  blame  worthy  I.  ed.  1575.  ^  Am.  ib. 


144  King  Morgan. 

Of  Cornei£all  and  of  Wales,  whom  I  did  bring 
To  warro,  against  Cordila  and  her  men  : 
Wee  sayd  wee  would  our  title  winne  agcn, 

And  that  because  our  fathers^  had  it  yore, 

Wee  ment  to  get  it  ours  againe  therefore. 

5. 
J  must  confesse  I  was  the  cause  of  warre, 
1  was  not  plcas'd  with  that  was  lotted  mee: 
Euen  so  our  mindcs  ambitious  often  arc 
And  blinded,  that  wee  cannot  reason  see. 
Wee  thinkc  no  men,  but  God's  on  Earth  wee  bee,  ,|^  . 

Yet  worse  are  wee  then  beastes  which  knowe  their  kinde :    j,-,y  j|- 

For  wee  haue  nought  but  mischief e  oft  in  mind. 

G. 
Wee  thinke,  if  so  wee  may  our  willcs  attayne 
By  right  or  wrong,  by  might  or  malice,  wee 
Could  neuer  Hue  like  Fortune  for  to  gayne  : 
Or  if  one  foes  wee  once  reuenged  bee, 
If  that  our  enemies^  fall  wee  chauucc  to  see, 

O  then  wee  ioy,  wee  lift  our  selues  to  skie, 

And  on  the  poore  wee  cruci/igc  crye. 

7. 
I  deem'd  if  once  I  might  put  her  adownc,^ 
The  Kingdomes  all  were  Conidag's  and  mine  : 
And  I  could  easly  after  winne  thecrownc, 
If  also  1  his  state  might  vndermine. 
I  thought,  in  deede,  to  haue  it  all  in  fine : 

By  force  or  fraude  I  ment  my  purpose  bring  ' 

To  passe,  I  might  bee  after  Britayne  King.'' 

5  Mothers,  ed.  1575. 

*  Foe  iiieiis.  N. 

s  I  dcfin'd  if  that  I  ml|S!,ht  once  put  lier  downe.  N. 

*  By  force  or  fraud  I  did  intend  nione, 

To  sit  as  Kiog  vpon  the  Britaine  throne.  N, 


King  Morgan.  145 

8.  or-   vt  ^ 

to  Speake  in  fewe,  tvee  waged  warre  so  long 

Gainst  her,  at  last  wee  put  her  vnto  flight : 

Wee  warriours'  for  our  aunt  were  far  to  strong, 

Pursude  and  tooke^  depriu'd  her  of  her  right. 

Wee  thought  it  ours  what  so  wee  wannc  by  might : 
Eke  so  play  tyraunts,  Traitours  all  doe  watch 
To  get  by  spoile  and  count  their  owne  they  catch. 

9. 

Not  so  contented  were  wee  with  the  pray  : 

But  fearing  lest  shee  should  recouer  ayde, 

I  sent  in  hast  to  prison  her  away, 

And  all  recourse  of  messengers  denayd. 

Thus  when  shee  sawe  her  Maiesty  decayd, 

And  that  her  griefes  and  sorowes  daily  grew,  -j^  MK'HMW 

In  pryson  at  the  length  her  selfe  shee  s\evf%^ff^ismuttli^^f^^}ff 

10.  -^ttrm^itlttU^^T 

O  caytife  vile,  should  I  constrain'd  a  Queene,^ 
That  lustice  raent,  her  kingdome  to  forsake  ? 
Nay  traytour  I,  her  cause  of  death  haue  bene,^  „  t. 

That  would  ray  selfe  by  bloudshed  ruler  make. 
How  could  reuenge  on  mee  but  vengeaunce  take  ? 
Before  the  seat  of  God  her  bloud  did  call 
For  vengeaunce  still,  and  so  procur'd'  my  falL 

II.  ri 

Lo  here  God's  iuslice  sec,  my  treason  see  :  A 

Behold  and  see,  to  raygne  was  my  delight : 
And  marke,  and  make  a  mirrour  here  of  mee, 
Which  afterward  was  seru'd  by  iustice  right. 
Wee  wan  the  crowne  betweene  vs  both  in  fight ; 


V/ 


7  Nephewes.  ed.  1575. 

*  O  caytife  vile,  that  did  constraine  a  Quecne.  N. 

'  Nay  traytour  I  as  nowe  by  proofe  is  scene,  cd,  157S. 

*  For  vengeaunce  and  at  length  procurde.  ib. 

L 


146  King  Morgan. 

And  then  because  I  was  the  elder  sonne 

Of  th 'elder  Queene,  I  claymed  all  wee  wonne, 

12. 

So  were  my  dealings  nought  in  peace  and  warre ; 
But  by  my  force  and  fortunes  v'sd  in  fight, 
I  past,  that  time,  tlie  Britaynes  all  by  farre : 
I  was  of  person,  fortitude,  and  might. 
Both  comely,  tall,  strong,  seemely  eke  in  sight, 
Whereby  I  wonneraensfauoure,  glory,  wealth 
And,  puft  with  pride,  at  length  forgate  my  selfc.  _  ^ 

IS. 
1  sayd  it  was  my  Tight  the  crowne  to  haue, 
But  Conidagus  stoutly  it  deni'd  : 
Wherefore  I  went  to  Wales,  my  ryght  to  craue, 
With  all  mine  army,  and  to  haue  it  tri*d. 
Where  long  wee  fought  it  stoutly  on  eche  side, 
Till  at  the  last,  vnto  my  woefuU  payne, 
I  was  depriu'd  of  Kingdome  quite,  and  slayne. 

14. 
And  for  to  keepe  in  memory  for  aye 
That  there  vnfaythfull  Morgan  lost  his  life. 
The  place  is  cal'd  Glamorgan  to  this  daye.* 
There  was  I  perst  to  death  with  fatall  knife : 
There  was  the  end  of  all  my  hateful!  strife. 

So  Morgan,  where  hee  thought  to  winne  the  Crowne, 
Was  at  Glamorgan  traytour  striken  downe. 

15.  ,1 

Thus  raayst  thou  tell  how  proude  ambition  proues,  \ 

What  hap  haue  tyraunts,  what  wee  Traytours  haue  : 
What  end  hee  hath  that  cruell  dealing  loues, 
What  subiects  get  the'  Diademe  doe  craue. 

^  Cunedagius  "  slough  Morgan  tliat  was  rebel  ayanst  him  in  Glamorgan  in 
Wales,  and  bj  came  of  that  happe  that  countree  is  called  Morgan's  tondc." 
Poli/chronicon, 

3  That.  N, 


King  Morgan.  147 

Tis  better,  then  to  winne,  thine  owne  to  saue  : 
For  so  orethwartly  trade  of  Fortune  goes, 
When  win  thou  would'st,  then  art  thou  sure  to  lose.* 

LENUOY. 

How  restlesse  are  the  peeres  aloft  would  ryse  ? 
Mow  vncontented  are  theyr  hauty  myndes  ? 
How  quiet  is  the  simple  setled  wise, 
Whom  no  desire  of  proud  ambition  blyndes  ? 
1  see  no  ease  the  seeke-tlirone  thirsty  findes. 

Hee  seekes  all  raeanes  to  clime  to  catch  the  crowne, 

Till  for  his  haste /owe  hurle  him  headlong  downe. 

2. 
The  royall  borne  by  birth,  the  time  should  stay 
Till  iust  lehoiia  gaue  to  him  the  place : 
And  not  the  Lordes  anoynted  seeke  to  slay, 
But  as  his  Soueraigne  serue  him  well  the  space. 
If  hee  with  bloud  his  noble  birth  abace, 

1  meane  if  hee  by  slaughter  catch  the  crowne. 

With  foote  iehoua  castes  him  headlong  downe. 

*  The  AtTTiiorjB. 

With  that  Moi^anus  quickly  past  away. 

The  nijjht  me  thouf^ht  likewise  was  farepast^ 

Whereby  it  weried  nie  so  long  to  staye, 

But  Morpheus  bad  me  bide  and  see  the  last, 

"  (Quotli  he)  the  stories  passe  awaye  as  fast, 
"  As  doth  the  tyme,  and  stth  th'art  nigh  th'ende: 
**  Thou  nedste  not  grutche,  so  short  a  space  to  spend." 

And  turning  then  him  selfe  from  measyde, 
Hecalde  the  next  which  therwithall  in  siglit 
Appear'd,  and  all  his  breste  with  bloud  bedide. 
What  chaunce  (quoth  1)  hath  so  thy  corps  bedight, 
Thou  worthy  prince,  or  what  mishaps  of  fight  ? 

"  I  will  (quoth  he)  with  all  my  hart  vnfolde 

"  My  fatall  fall,  and  therwithall  he  tolde." 

L  2 


an 


148  King  Morgan, 

If  Morgan  had  not  wrought  his  aunt's  distresse 

By  dint  of  sword,  by  sword  hee  had  not  fell. 

But  who  so  shall  by  sword  a  Prince  oppresse, 

Shall  of  the  sword  therefore  and  slaughter  smell. 

Lo  here  the  next,  that  came  his  tale  to  tell, 

Was  gieuen  to  vice  when  once  hee  ware  the  crowne, 

Till  slouth  and  sleepy  sickenes  cast  hyra  downe.  ,  ,, 


H 


149 


HOW  KING  lAGO  DY- 

ed  of  the  Lethargy,    about  the 

yeare  before  Christ, 
612.* 

I. 

Haue  I  oreslept  my  selfe,  or  am  1  wake  ? 

Or  hadst  thou  late  oreslept  thy  selfe  that  wrote  ? 

Could'st  thou  not  for  the  Lethargc  paynes  to  take : 

And  with  the  rest  his  sleepy  life  io  note  ? 

Was  I  amongst  the  wicked  wights  forgote  ? 

Well  then,  awaked  sith  wee  are  both  twayne, 

To  write  ray  sleepy  sinfull  life  take  payne. 

2. 
I  am  that  lago^  once  of  Britayne  King, 
That  ruled  all  this  noble  Britishe  T  le  : 
No  fame  of  raee  the  writers  old  doe  bring, 
Because  my  life  and  gouernement  was  vile. 
Yet,  Higginsy  lieere  take  paynes  for  raee  a  while  : 

Enregestermy  rairour  to  remaine, 

That  Princes  may  my  vices  vile  refrayne. 

3. 
At  first,  a  while,  I  ruled  well  the  land, 
I  vsed  lustice,  right  tooke  regall  place : 
No  wight  but  found  iust  iudgement  at  my  hand, 
And  truth  durst  shew,  without  rebuke,  her  face. 
I  gaue  my  selfe  to  all  good  giftes  of  grace, 

My  subiects  liu'd  in  rest  within  my  raygne, 

No  cause  of  Prince  compeld  them  to  complainc. 

'  This  legend  is  not  in  the  first  edition. 


150  King  lago, 

4. 

But  35  in  calme  a  storme  wee  nothing  feare, 

When  as  the  Seas  are  milde  and  smoth  asglasse  : 

And  as  in  peace  no  thonglit  of  wanes  wee  beare, 

Which  least  suppose  of  mischeeues  come  to  passe  : 

Euen  so  my  still  and  rightfull  raygning  was. 
The  calme  a  tempest  boads  :  the  shine,  a  raine  i 
Long  peace,  a  warre  :  and  pleasure,  pinching  paine. 

5. 

For  rest  and  peace  and  wealth  abounding  thoe 

Made  mee  forget  my  lustice  lat^  well  vsde; 

Forsaking  vertues,  vices  gan  tofloe, 

And  former  noble  acts  1  quite  refusde. 

My  gifles,  my  treasures,  wealth  and  will  misusde, 

Began  all  goodnes  quite  at  length  disdayn,  ^ 

And  did  my  facts  with  filthy  vices  staine.  (' 

6. 

MisgouernM  both  my  Kingdome  and  my  life, 

I  gaue  my  selfe  to  ease,  to  sleepe,  and  sinne : 

And  I  had  clawbackes  euen  in  Court  full  rife, 

Which  sought  by  mine  outrages  gaines  to  winne.* 

For  Kinges  no  sooner  well  or  worse  beginne. 
But  euen  at  hand  the  good  or  bad  take  payn, 
For  vertue's  sake,  or  raeede,  the  Prince  to  trayue. 

7. 

As  vices  grew  encreasing  more  and  more, 

So  vertues  fled  and  bade  their  friends  adieu  : 

Deseases  bad  likewise,  and  sicknesse  sore 

Began  to  wexe,  and  griefes  about  mee  grew. 

I  may  fullwell  my  naughty  surfets  rue, 

Which  pesterd  so  at  length  my  drousy  brayne, 
I  could  not  scarse  from  sleeping  ought  refrayne. 

*  Which  sought  by  outrage  golden  gaines  to  wianc*  N. 


King  lago,  151 

s. 

A  sleepie  sickenesse,  nam'd  the  Lethargy e^  t)P^^-*(^4r&»  f1»-  H-''; 
Opprest  rae  sore,  and  feauers  fearce  withall :  A 

This  was  the  guerdon  of  my  glottonie, 

Jehoiia  sent  tny  sleepie  life  this  dwall.  '  ■!- 

So  who  so  sleeping  let  sleepe  Justice  shall,  " 

Although  he  feele  no  whit  such  slumbring  payne, 

Yet  may  he  write  he  hath  not  long  to  raygne.* 

9. 
Physicions  wise  may  take  on  them  the  cure, 
But  if  lehoua  smite  the  Prince  for  sinne, 
As  earst  of  me,  then  is  the  helpe  vnsure, 

That's  not  the  way  for  health  to  enter  in.  '  ' 

No  potions  then,  nor  ponders  worth  a  pin : 

But  euen  as  we,  they  must  to  die  be  fayne. 

Bid  them  in  time  from  vices  now  refrayne. 

Who  gouerns  well,  deserues  with  mighty  loue  to  raygne.* 

LENUOY,  . 

1. 

Remembring  with  my  selfe  this  story  past, 
When  I  agayne  had  tooke  this  worke  in  hand, 
I  tooke  ray  pen  and  wrote  the  same  at  last, 
Thereby  to  cause  all  Princes  sloth  aband. 
When  they  his  fall  set  downe  so  vnderstand, 

They  may  beware  :  a  warning  this  may  be, 

Against  the  slothfull  sweames  of  sluggardye. 

A  sleepie  sicknesse,  nam'd  the  Lethargic, 

Opprest  me  sore  till  death  tooke  life  away  : 

This  was  the  guerdon  of  my  gluttonie, 

As  with  the  candles  light  the  flie  doth  play, 

Though  in  the  ende  it  worke  her  liues  decay: 
So  of  the  gluttons  cup  so  long  I  drunke, 
Till  drown'd  in  it  with  shamefull  death  I  sunke.  N. 
♦  This  line  omitted  by  Niccols. 


153  King  lago, 

2. 
The  stories  lell  of  Comodus  (he  raygne, 
A  wise  and  noble  Eraperour  at  first : 
He  diligent  to  gouerne  -well  tooke  pajne, 
Till  at  the  length  him  sloth  in  vice  had  nurst. 
.  But  see  at  last,  see  whereunto  it  burst : 
He  strangled  was  by  wicked  treacherie, 
That  gaue  himselfe  to  sluggish  libertie. 

3. 
I  may  no  longer  on  this  sleeper  byde, 
Which  for  his  slouthfull  sinne  was  serued  right : 
Because  himselfe  to  sluggishnes  he  plyde, 
That  plague  of  sickenesse  dead  on  him  did  light. 
But  now  beholde,  next  Forrex  came  to  sight, 
Which  in  this  sort  beganne  his  life  t'unfold  : 
Eftsoones  thus  wise,  his  slaughter  there  he  tolde, 


4*V 


»'i/S<yg»'^r 


153 


HOW  KING  FORREX 

was  slayne  by  his  brother  King 

Porrex,  about  the  yeere  before 
Christ,   491.* 

]. 

CoMPLAYNE  I  may  with  tragiques  on  the  stage/ 

Compeld  I  am  amongst  the  rest  that  fell : 

I  may  complayne  that  felt  of  wanes  the  wage, 

'  To  tell  my  storie  on  the  tragicke  stage.  N. 


*  In  the  first  edition  this  legend  is  in  quatr.^ins. 
Forrex  declares  howe  hee  minding  to  kill  his  brother  which  ruled  with  him 
{that  he  might  thei'hi/  raigne  alone)  was  by  him  slain.    About  the 
yeare  before  Christe,  491. 

Pride  moues  the  mindes  of  stately  wightes 

Such  hauty  hartes  to  hauc, 
And  causeth  vs  for  glory  vayne, 

That  is  not  ours  to  craue. 

Pryde  pluckes  out  reason  forth  liir  place, 

And  planted  will  iu  stede: 
She  puffes  our  mindes  with  vayne  desires, 

Our  fancies  fonde  to  feede. 

Wherby  we  growe  so  obstinate, 

And  so  ambitious  ill; 
That  vs  at  length  our  braiiery  bids 

In  all  things  vse  our  will. 

Ambition  thinkes  that  lawefull  is, 

Which  likes  hir  fancie  best: 
And  demes  she  ought  to  haue  hir  forth, 

And  swinge  before  the  rest. 

She  loues  no  mates,  controlment  shee 

And  warning  doth  despise  : 
She  demes  her  selie  in  all  hir  deedes, 

Ap'i  actiqns,  wonders  wise. 


354  King  Forrex, 

Vntimcly  deatli  I  drewe,  doth  mee  compell. 

If  I  had  not  bin  crowned  king  I  had  bene  well :' 
There  had  no  enuie  vndennin'd  my  slate, 
Nor  fortune  foil'd  the  seate  whereon  I  sate. 


I  may  complaine  tliat  felt  god  Mars  his  rage, 

Alas,  that  fate  to  state  should  be  so  fell ; 

Had  I  been  meaner  bonie  I  know  right  well.   N. 


She  hath  desire  of  this  and  that, 

To  get  by  crouche  or  clawe : 
By  right  or  wrong  she  forceth  not, 

She  vseth  will  for  lawe. 

No  kinde,  or  countrey  she  regardes, 

No  mother,  father  shee : 
Nor  wyfe,or  husbande,  kithe  or  kin: 

But  enuies  eche  degree. 

For  if  thy  hart  Ambition  haue, 

Thy  greedy  mynde  to  still : 
Thou  wilt  notstickc  thy  dearest  frende, 

Or  nerest  kin  to  kill. 

But  as  the  prouerbe  snyes  that  Pryde 
Must  needes  at  length  haue  fall : 

Though  we  suppose  of  strength  and  powre 
We  haue  the  deuill  and  all. 

Euen  so  I  say :  Ambition  makes 

Vs  often  clime  so  hie  : 
At  length  we  fall,  we  come  to  nought, 

And  drownde  in  darkenes  lye. 

This  may  I  Forrex  well  auouche. 

By  proufe  to  true  I  finde : 
Wherefore  I  praye  thee  with  the  rest. 

Do  put  my  faultes  in  mynde. 

My  father  olde,  bight  Gorboduge, 

Raignde  three  score  yeares  and  three : 

And  at  his  death  gaue  all  his  lande 
Twene  Porrex  proude  and  mee. 

Fiue  yeares  we  helde  it  so  in  peace. 

In  reste  we  ruled  well : 
But  at  the  last  by  pryde  and  wrath 

We  foule  at  discorde  felL 


King  Forrex.  155 


2. 

What  blisse  enioyd  1  while  ray  father  raynd  !' 
I  had  no  care,  in  honour  1  did  Hue  : 
Would  God  1  had  in  that  estate  remaynd, 

2  While  that  my  kingly  sire,  Gorbodug,  raign'd.  N. 


We  cache  encrochte  on  others  partes, 

For  rule  we  Hu'de  at  strife : 
And  cache  did  seeke  occasion  aye 

To  reaue  the  others  life. 

I  made  this  counte  T  elder  was. 
By  birth  the  realrne  was  rayne  : 

By  warre,  or  wrong,  or  bloud  I  menc 
To  haue  it  all  in  fine. 

And  he  although  he  yqnger  were, 

Esteemde  his  state  so  sure 
As  mine :  and  thought  it  his,  if  hee 

My  death  might  once  procure. 

My  mother  eke  that  lou'de  me  more 

Although  he  yonger  was : 
By  diners  meanes  did  heipe  me  still 

To  bring  my  feates  to  passe. 

Wherby  I  thought  my  selfe  so  sure 

To  haue  my  purpose  sped, 
As  I  requirde:  if  once  I  might 

Get  of  his  crafty  head. 

See  here  what  faith  what  frendship  iS; 

What  loue  what  fauour  wee 
Do  shewe  to  any  wight  aliue. 

If  once  aloft  we  bee. 

To  fathers  we  are  faithlesse  ofte : 
To  brothers,  butchers  vile  : 

Of  sisters  small  accounte  we  make. 
And  wedded  wyues  exile. 

If  any  kithe,  or  kin,  we  haue, 
By  whom  we  vantage  may  : 

We  care  not  by  what  cruel!  meanes 
Their  Hues  we  tike  away. 

But  for  to  get  the  seate  alone. 
And  for  to  wynne  the  crowne  : 

We  care  not  whom,  nor  when,  nor  how 
So  we  may  getthemdowne. 


156  King  Forrex, 

'I 

But  what  vs  fortune  wonted  is  to  giue, 
Good  happe  that  holds  as  water  in  a  siue  : 

Shee  showcs  a  glimpse  of  thousand  ioyes,  and  moe. 
Which  hides  in  it  tenne  thousand  seas  of  woe. 

3. 
That  hatefull  hellish  hagge  of  vglj  hue, 
With  rustie  teeth  and  meygre  corps  misshape, 
1  meanethat  monster  vile,  the  worst  in  viewe, 
Whome  some  call  Discorde,  Enuic,  Ire,  and  Hate  ; 
She  set  ray  brother  first  with  me  at  bate  : 


O  hrutisi)  beasts  !  nay  worse  then  those* 

For  they  are  still  content 
With  that  they  haue,  what  euer  them 

Hath  God  or  Nature  sent. 
But  we  do  gape,  and  gaze  for  glore  : 

We  prowle,  and  powle,  and  pill. 
And  sweare,  and  stare,  and  striue,  aud  iight^ 

And  one  another  kill. 
And  all  for  pompe,  and  glorie  great, 

For  name,  renowne,  estate : 
Not  caring  of  the  commons  crye. 

Or  God's  cternall  hate. 
If  I  had  had  the  giftes  of  grace, 

I  neuer  would  haue  sought 
By  any  meanes  such  worldly  trashe, 

With  brother's  bloud  to  bought. 
But  as  I  ment  euen  so  I  sped, 

So  bloudy  butchers  thye  : 
When  moste  I  deemde  my  purpose  sure, 

He  was  to  good  for  me. 
For  as  I  thought  his  bloud  to  shed, 

I  compast  was  about, 
So  that  for  thousand  kingdomes,  I 

Could  not  with  life  scape  out- 
He  pearst  my  hart,  what  skilles  it  sitb, 

My  minde  was  euen  as  bad :  ' 
for  why  what  measure  I  him  mente, 
'   My  selfe  like  measure  had. 
And  so  all  such,  as  murder  meane, 

Intende,  or  treason  vsc, 
Shall  at  the  length,  like  ends  attayne, 

Oi:  worse  they  cannot  chuse. 


King  Forres:,  157 

When  we  fiue  yeeres  had  raygned  ioyntly  well, 
By  her  intisements,  foule  at  strife  we  fell. 

4. 
We  liu'd  that  space  well  in  this  noble  He,  '  i-  i 

Deuyded  well  wee  ioyntly  did  inioye  "'^Jfll'l 

The  princely  seate,  while  Fortune  fayre  did  smile,  I 

Without  disdayne,  hate,  discorde  or  anoye  : 
Euen  as  our  father  raignd,  the  noble  Roi/, 
In  wealth,  peace,  prayse,  purporte,  renowne  and  fame, 
Without  the  blots  of  euerlastinij  blame. 

5. 
But  when  ambition  bleared  both  our  eyes,  ,ff  j} 

And  hasty  hate  had  brother-hoode  bereft :  j 

Wee  frendship  fayre  and  concorde  did  dispise, 
And  far  a  part  from  vs  wee  wisedome  left : 
Forsooke  each  other  at  the  greatest  heft. 
To  rule  the  kingdome  both  wee  left,  and  fell 
To  warring,  iarring  like  two  hounds  of  hell.  q 

6. 
For  bounds  we  banded  first  on  either  syde, 
And  did  incroach  each  one  on  others  right. 
T'inlarge  the  limetes  of  our  kingdome  wide,  ^^^  vUsw     •  i' 

We  would  not  sticke  full  oft  to  fray  and  fight.* 
The  wretched  ground  had  so  bewicht  our  sight. 
For  why,  the  earth  that  once  shall  eate  vs  all, 
Is  th'only  cause  of  many  Princes  fall.  .-.io*/  :i;l ;. 

7. 
On  th^earth  wee  greeue  the  grounde  for  filthy  gayne,         ^^  ^^j^ 
On  th'earth  wee  close  the  earth  t'inlarge  our  land  : 
In  th'earth  wee  moyle  with  honger,  care,  and  payne,  ,.^^^,.^ 
Wee  cut,  wee  dig  thence  Siluer,  Gold,  and  Sand 
The  bowels  of  the  earth  wee  moyle  with  might  of  hanj^' 

♦  Not  sticke  oft  times  in  6eld  to  fight.  N. 


J  -. .«  _- 


158  King  ForreT, 

With  Steele  and  Iron  tearing  vnder  ground, 

And  rigging  all  the  earth  to  make  our  ioyes  abound.^ 

8. 
For  thVarth  forget  wee  God,  (vnfaythfull  fooles) 
For  grounde  forsake  wee  fayth  and  all  our  frends : 
For  th'earth  wee  set  our  seines  to  subtile  scbooles, 
Of  grounde  lyke  swine  wee  seeke  the  farthest  ends : 
Wee  spoyle  the  grounde  that  all  our  lining  lends  : 

Of  grounde  to  winne  a  plat  a  while  to  dwell 
J  Wee  venter  liues,  and  send  our  soules  to  hell. 

9. 
If  wee  consider  could  the  substance^  of  a  raan, 
How  bee  composed  is  of  Elements"  by  kinde, 
Of  earth,  of  water,  ayre,  and  fire,  than 
Wee  would  full  often  call  vnto  our  minde, 
That  all  our  earthly  ioyes  wee  leaue  behinde : 
And  when  wee  passe  to  th'earth  wee  turne  to  rot : 
Our  pompe,  our  pride,  and  glory  is  forgot. 

10. 
The  fire  first  receaues  his  heate  againe, 
The  ayre  the  breath  bereaues  away  by  right : 
The  watry  and  the  earthly  parts  remaine, 
Of  elements  composed  scarce  so  light : 
And  in  the  ground  a  place  is  for  them  dight. 
The  moistures  dry,  the  bones  consume  to  dust, 
The  worraes  with  fleshe  sufiice  their  greedy  lust. 

11. 

But  wee  forget  our  composition  olde, 

Both  whence  wee  came,  and  whereunto  wee  shalU 

Wee  scarce  remember  wee  bee  made  of  mould, 

*  Into  her  bowels  by  the  fofce  of  liand, 

With  Steele  and  iron  we  do  dig  profound, 
Working  her  woe  to  make  our  ioyes  abound.  N, 

*  If  we  behold  the  substance.  N. 

'  How  be  is  made  of  elements.  N^.  n  it»ttM  Ha  »)k>i  * 


Ki7ig  Torrex,  15<) 

And  how  the  earth  agayn  consumetli  all.  •       -^    - 

This  great  forgetfalnesse  breedes  Princes  thrall. 

While  present  ioyes  wee  gaze  vppon,  meane  while 

A  fadeing  blisse  doth  all  our  wits  beguile. 

12. 
All  this  I  speake  to  th'end  it  may  aduise  ^ 

All  Princes  great,  and  noble  peeres  that  ar, 
To  learne  by  race  the  rather  to  bee  wise, 
And  to  abandon  hate  and  malice  far : 
To  banishe  all  ambitious  bloudy  warre  : 

To  liue  content  in  peace,  with  their  estate  : 

For  mischiefe  flowes  from  discord  and  debate,  ij.^i^ji  i> 

J  3. 
And  now  lie  tell  what  discord  vile  hath  done 
To  mee  King  Forrex.     Thus  the  case  it  stood. 
I  thought  in  deede  to  haue  some  castels  wonne 
And  holds,  which  were  my  brother's,  strong  and  good. 
So  might  I  intercept  his  vitayles,  forrage,  food, 

Abate  his  pride,  obtaine  the  Kingdome  all : 

Mee  thought  the  halfe  a  portion  was  to  small.  ■ 

14. 
Ther's  no  man  takes  an  enterprise  in  hand, 
But  hee  perswades  him  selfe  it  is  not  ill : 
Hee  hath  of  reasons  eke  in  steede  to  stand, 
As  hee  supposeth  framed  wise  by  skill. 
So  I  was  led  by  reason  rude,  to  kill 

My  brother,  if  I  caught  him  at  the  nicke, 

Because  the  quarell  first  hee  gaii  to  picke. 

15. 
And  for  because  I  was  the  elder  Prince, 
.The  elder  sonne,  and  heyre  vnto  the  crowne : 
Me  thought  no  lawe,  nor  reason  could  conuince 


160  King  TorreSc.  ' 

Mee  from  the  fact,  though  I  did  beate  him  do\¥i]e. 

This  was  my  way  to  winne  and  reape  renowne. 
I  did  {)rouide  an  army  strong,  encampte  k  fielde,^ 
Not  far  from  where  I  hoapte  to  cause  him  yeelde. 

16. 

And  sundry  sharpe  assautes  on  each  wee  gaae, 

On  purpose  both  enflamed  for  io  fight : 

Wee  had  in  parle  receaued  counsayle*^  graue 

Of  wise  and  wortliy  men,  pcrswading  right*  •'^ 

'  It  pitie  was  (they  sayd)  so  fowle  a  sight,  * 

That  brethren  twayne,  both  Princes  of  a  land. 
Should  take  at  home  such  woeful!  wanes  in  hand.*  '*** 

17. 

But  where  ambition  dwelles  is  no  remorce, 

No  countrey's  loue,  no  kinred  holden  kinde, 

No  feare  of  God,  no  sentence  wise  of  force 

To  turne  the  harte,  or  mollify  the  rainde  : 

Good  words  are  counted  wasting  of  your  wynde. 
The  gayne  proposde,  the  crowne  and  scepter  bye, 
Are  th'only  thinges  whereat  men  gaze  and  prye. 

18. 

At  length  my  brother  for  to  ende  the  strife,  ^ 

Thought  best  to  worke  the  surest  way  to  winne  :  "^ 

He  founde  the  meanes  to  take  away  my  life. 

Before  which  time  the  warres  could  nener  linne. 

How  much  might  better  both  conterited  binne ! 
For  hope  is  sloape,*  and  hold  is  hard  to  snatche, 
Where  bloud  embrues  the  hands  that  come-to  catch < 


8  Armie  strong  for  field.    N.  '  '^^"^ 

9  Heard  the  counsell.     N.  T, 
*  Hope  will  slip.    N.                                                                                  j/ 


King  Torrex,  ll5l 

19. 
Thus  our  ambition  brewde^  our  subiecs  smart : 
Our  broyles  pourde  out  their  guiltlesse  bloud  on  ground : 
Which  vile  deuise  of  mine  ambitious  heart 
Procured  loue  my  purpose  to  confound. 
Therefore  beware  yee  wights  whose  wealths  abound, 
Content  your  selues  in  peace  to  spend  your  dayes, 

^y  vertues  good  aloft  in  earth  your  names  to  rayse ; 

So  shall  you  Hue  in  Heauen  with  mighty  loue  alwayes  '. 

LENUOY. 

1-. 

What  cruell  heartes  had  both  these  Princes  then, 

To  raigne  alone,  which  sought  their  brother's  life ; 

These  tyrants  were  no  perfect  noble  men, 

But  buchers  rather  raignyng  all  by  knife : 

A  woefuU  thing  to  heare  such  brother  strife, 
Where  loue  aye  lasting  loyall  should  endure, 
That  crowne  or  kingdome  bloudshed  should  procure. 

2. 
And  here  you  one  thing  chiefely  haue  to  note, 
That  his  pretence  was  punisht  as  the  fact : 

For  hee  no  bloudshed  wrought  (as  well  you  wote)  < 

But  purposde  was  to  worke  a  bloudy  act. 
And  that  both  time  and  place  therefore  hee  lact : 

»  Bred.  N. 

*  The  concluding  Alexandrine  omitted  by  Niccolls. 

The  Authour.  ' 

When  as  king  Forrex  thus  had  tolde  his  tale, 
Me  thought  he  stayde  no  whit  but  went  his  way. 
Then  came  a  mangled  corps  as  full  of  bale, 
And  or  he  nerer  came  made  half  a  stay. 
(Quoth  Morpheus)  come,  for  shame  thou  nedste  not  stay, 
As  bad  as  thou  haue  tolHe  their  tales  before, 
And  so  must  thou  and  diuers  other  more. 

M 


16^  King  Forrex, 

Let  such  then  know,  as  hane  such  tlioughts  in  vre, 
•  ^^o  murder  stable  Kingdome  can  procure. 

3. 
For  \i  lehoua  did  his  purpose  dint, 
How  much  will  hee  the  factours  punisli  more : 
Let  noble  men  from  such  endeuours  stint, 
And  loue  embrace  where  hatred  was  before  : 
lehouae's  ioyfull  impes  embrace  this  lore  : 
For  Porrex  here  can  tell,  they  may  bee  sure, 
No  murder  stable  kingdome  can  procure. 


King  Porrex', 


163 


HOW    KING    PORREX^ 

which  slewe  his  brother  was  slayne  hy 

his  owne  mother  and  hir  maydens, 

about  the  yeare  before   Christ, 
491. 

Can  cursed  Coyne  that  captiiie  scuse  him  selfe, 
That  slew  his  brother  Abel  innocent : 


'  The  life  of  Porrex  was  also  re-written^    It  is  thus  in  the  first  edition. 

Porrex  recites  howefor  the  slaughter  of  his  brother,  he  was  slaine  hy  his  owne 
mother  and  hir  maydens,  as  he  laye  sleeping.     About  the  yeare  be- 
fore Christ,  491. 
Fkom  darkesome  dennes,  where  cruel  Cayne, 

And  other  like  do  lye  : 
Whose  bloudie  blades  were  bathde  in  bloud, 
Poore  caytiue  thence  come  I. 

Where  Tvphon  is,  his  brother  slewe, 

Osiris  in  despite : 
And  where  their  sister  Isis  is, 

Did  him  againe  requite. 

Where  Dardanus  to  rule  alone 

His  brother  made  away : 
Etheocles,  Polinices, 

At  once  did  others  sley. 

Where  Helenus  king  Priam's  son 

His  brother  Theon  kilde. 
Medea  eke  in  blondy  wyse, 

Hir  brother's  bloud  that  spilde. 

Where  Tydeus  is  in  hunting  shote 

His  brother  through  tiie  side : 
Polytes  eke  his  brother's  harte 

With  sworde  that  opened  wyde. 

And  where  as  that  Cambyses  is, 

His  sister  once  that  slewe: 
And  Polipontes  king  tbat  made. 

His  brother  treason  rewe. 

M  g 


Genes.  4. 


Annius. 


Virgil, 
in  culi. 


Seruius.  3. 
Aene'id. 
Ouid  in 
Ibin. 

Statius. 


Herodo- 
tus. 

Gel.  li.  4. 
cap.  S. 


164 


King  Porrei. 


Or  Typhon  tell  a  reason  for  himselfe, 
Why  hee  Osiris  downe-  to  Lr/mho  pent  ? 
King  Dardan  then  may  doe  the  lyke  perdy,' 
They  slewe  their  brethren  each,  and  so  did  I. 


*  Or  Typhon  who  for  state  and  worldly  pelfe. 

His  deare  Osiris.    N. 
'  Then  to  do  the  like  may  trie.    N. 


Herodo- 
tus. 


Ouid  in 
Ibin. 

Plutarch. 

Laert. 

Volater. 

Volater. 


Plato.  10, 
de  rep. 

Cla^lios* 


Volatei;. 


And  crucll  where  Odorcs  is. 

Which  niercy  did  deny 
To  Mithridate  his  brother  deare. 

That  did  for  pardon  crie. 

Eke  where  Learchus  is,  that  did 

His  brother  sicke  destroy  : 
With  poyson  deadly  hoping  so. 

To  make  him  selfe  a  Roy. 

And  where  that  wretche  Mamertes  lie*, 
His  brothers  sonnes  that  spike: 

And  Sisapho  tormenting  him, 
For  such  an  heynous  gilte. 

Where  Rhesus  and  Caduidus  are, 
With  shaftes  their  brethren  slewe  : 

And  Philadelphus  Ptolomas 
His  brother's  death  did  brewe. 

Where  Philopater  Ptolomae 

His  father  made  away : 
And  after  that  his  brother  with 

His  dearest  frendes  did  slaj. 

And  where  Ardieus,  tyraunt  vile. 

His  aged  father  stroyde, 
And  after  that  his  elder  brother, 

KingdoDies  to  enioyde. 

Where  Mithridates,  beastly  king, 

Of  Pontus  feeles  anoye: 
Which  mother  his,  and  brother  eke, 

Sixe  children  did  destroye. 

Where  is  Antiochus  the  great, 
His  brother  brought  to  graue : 

That  he  might  onely  raigne  aloqe, 
Aad  all  tb«  kiogdome  hau^. 


lA 


King  Fotrex,  16S 

2. 

The  wicked  witch  Medasa  rent  in  peeces  smalle 
Ahsirlus  limraes  her  brother,  did  not  shee  ? 
Shee  threw  him  in  the  way  dismembred  all, 
That  so  hir  father's  iourney  stayde  might  bee : 


Where  Romulus,  that  Remus  slew,  Liuius. 

,   Of  Romaines,  first  had  fall :  *  Lucan. 

Though  louing  brother  first  he  were.  Quid. 

Fresumde  to  scale  the  wall. 

And  where  Mempriciuslewde  doth  lye,  Flore* 

A  Britayne  Prince  that  slue,  liistor. 

His  brother  Maiilius  fearing  lest 
He  were  to  him  vntrue. 

Where  lurgurth  eke  that  basterde  is,  Salust. 

His  brethren  brought  to  graue: 
That  after  them  Numidia 

He  might  for  kiugdome  haue. 

And  where  a  thousande  are  besiide. 

Which  were  to  leng  to  tell, 
Their  parentes  deare  and  brethren  slue, 

And  now  in  darkenes  dwell. 
• 
From  thence  I  came  a  Britayne  yore, 

Namde  Porrex  once  a  king : 
Againe  to  shewe  what  vices  mee 

To  sodaine  death  did  bring. 

Now  list  a  while  and  then  do  write. 

What  I  thee  tell,  that  others  may  V 

Theraselues  in  such  attempts  as  these, 

From  bloudy  acts,  as  brethren  stay. 

My  brother  Forrex  fine  yeares  space, 

And  1  this  kingdome  heide: 
Betweene  vs  both  the  common  weale, 

We  scace  did  wisely  welrie. 

At  length  we  fondly  fell  at  strife. 

So  Princes  bide  no  mate, 
Nor  make,  nor  partners,  with  to  raigne 

But  beare  their  equals  hate. 

The  heire  because  T  yongest  was. 

Thought  his  by  right  the  crowne  : 
But  I  esteemde  the  halfe  was  mine, 

Add  all  if  he  were  downe. 


l66  King  Forrex, 

Orodes  eke  did  sley  his  brother  *  Milhridate : 
And  so  did  I  my  brother  [^Forrex']  in  debate. 

*  Orodes  slew  his  brother;    N, 


Whereby,  O  brothell,  butcher  e\ie, 

Not  brother  I  did  slay: 
My  brother  for  to  haue  it  all, 

And  get  his  right  away. 

Such  are  the  acts  of  heedelesse  youthes, 

Such  are  their  studies  still : 
Which  care  not  what  offence  they  make, 

So  they  their  fancies  fill. 

But  as  it  is  vniustice,  and 

An  haynous  acte  to  vse : 
Such  murder,  slaughter,  parricide 

And  iustice  all  refuse, 

So  loue  the  iust  at  length  requites 
Our  deedes  :  and  makes  vs  rewe 

We  euer  were,  to  God,  or  man 
Or  nature's  hestes  vntrue. 

por  when  I  deemde  the  rrowiie  was  mine, 
Which  had  my  brorl  t  r  ^layue, 

O  griefe  to  tell,  my  mottior,  and 
Ilir  maydens  wrought  my  jnyne. 

Both  for  my  fault,  and  for  she  luu'de 

My  brother  Forrex  still: 
With  all  hir  maydes  she  came  by  night. 

My  sleeping  corps  to  kill. 

And  I  that  slombring  sleeping  lay, 
Though  many  drearaes  f<)rtolde 

My  haplessc  fall,  could  neuer  wake, 
The  meaning  to  vnfolde. 

But  last  supposing  with  my  selfe, 

I  cruell  I'igres  sawe. 
With  raueiiing  fearcenes  rent  their  yong, 

Against  came  Nature's  lawe. 

She  came  on  me  to  fill  my  dreame, 

Before  my  eyes  could  wake, 
And  with  a  dagger  reft  my  life, 

For  Forres  slaughter's  sake. 


King  Forrex,  lS7' 


3. 
Learchus  slewe  his  brother  for  the  Crowne, 
So  dyd  Camh/ses  fearing  much  the  dreame : 
Antiochus  [the  great]  of  infamous  renowne 
His  brother  slewe,  to  rule  alone  the  realme : 
Ardieus  djd  the  lyke  for  kingdome*s  sake,  ' 
So  dyd  ray  selfe  like  wise  away  my  brother  lake.  ^ 

'  So  1  my  brother's  life  away  did  take.    N. 


Much  like  Agaue  and  his  mates,  Virgil  in 

Shce  and  hir  maydensgot  Culice. 

Them  tooles  therefore,  and  hewde  my  corse^ 
As  small  as  fleshe  to  pot. 

OrPrcgne  Queene  hir  children  slue, 

and  hewde  their  membres  small :  Ouid.  6. 

In  wrathfuU  ire  made  Tereus  feede,  Metamor. 

and  iil  himselfe  withall. 

Or  like  Medea  monster  Queene,  Virgil.  8.) 

hir  lason's  sonnes  thatkilde:  Aegl. 

Because  she  was  forsaken  when 
his  purpose  was  fulfilde. 

like  these  was  shee,  nay  worse,  for  why, 

This  ended  Brutus  lyne: 
Brought  me  to  ende  and  hir  to  shame^ 

though  first  the  fault  were  mine. 

Bid  those  beware  that  weene  to  winne, 

by  bloudy  acts  the  crowne: 
Lest  from  the  height  they  feele  the  fall 

of  topsy  turuye  downe. 

For  if  when  they  suppose  themselues 

aloft  to  touch  the  skie, 
There  chaunce  astorme,  there  is  noholde 

to  staye  themselues  so  hie. 

Bat  faster  farre,  more  swiftly  they, 

and  with  more  swinge  descende, 
Then  euer  erst  they  could  with  all 

there  force  to  clime  confende : 
Do  bid  them  then  in  all  their  deede» 

marks  well  the  finall  ende. 


l69  King  F-orrex, 

4. 
Mempricius  lewde  of  lyfe  likewise  did  kill 
His  brother  Manlius,  for  the  same  intent : 
These  Princes  vile  were  brother  slejers  ill, 
For  kingdomes  sake  vnnaturally  bent : 
But  reade  the  storjes,  thou  shalt  finde  it  playne* 
The  bloudj  wretches  all  were  after  slayne. 

5. 
Euen  so  I  Porrex  eke,  which  slewe  my  brother, 
And  ruled  once  the  Britayne  land  with  him, 
Vnkindly  kilde  was  by  my  cruell  mother. 
Which  with  hir  maydens  chopt  mee  euery  limme : 
As  I  lay  sleeping  on  my  bed  at  rest, 
Into  my  chamber  full  and  whole  they  prest. 

6. 
Apoynted  well  they  were  with  weapons  sharpe. 
And  boldly  layde  on  me  with  all  their  might : 
Oft  quite  and  cleane  they  thrust  me  through  the  heart. 
And  on  my  corps  each  where  theyr  weapons  light : 
They  chopt  me  small  (I  say)  as  flesh  to  pot. 
And  threwe  mee  out  my  limes  yet  trembling  hot. 

7. 
Can  I  complayne  of  this  reuenge  shee  raught, 
Sith  I  procurde  hir  wrath  by  slaughter  *  of  hir  sonne  2 
Can  1  excuse  my  selfe  deuoyde  of  faut, 
Which  my  deare  Prince  and  brother  had  fordonne  ? 
No  ;  'tis  to  true  that,  who  so  slayes  a  King, 
Incurrs  reproch,  and  slaughter  bloud  doth  bring. 

8. 
The  traytours  to  their  Prince  haue  alwayes  binne 
As  sleyers  of  their  parents,  viper's  broode : 
The  killers  of  their  brothers,  frcnds,  and  kinne, 
In  like  degree  well  nigh  of  treason  stoode : 

•  Pf ocur'd  the.  slaughter.    N. 


King  "Porrex,  I69 

But  what  by  this  winne  they,  saue  death,  defame, 

Distayne  theyr  bloud,  and  shroude  themselues  with  shame. 

9. 
Example  take  you  Princes  of  the  "^  land, 
Beware  of  discord,  shuTi  ambitious  pride  : 
By  right  take  yee  the  scepter  in  your  hand, 
hci  not  your  sword  with  soueraignes  bloud  be  dide  : 

The  mighty  loue,  that  raignes  eternall  ay. 

Cuts  of  the  Kings  that  enter  in  that  waye. 

10. 

Vsurpers  may  perswade  themselues  a  while 
There  is  no  God,  nolawes  of  sacred  crowne, 
No  wrong  they  doe,  no  murther  seemeth  vile, 
Nor  no  respect  of  princely  high  renowne  : 
■^  But  if  they  could  consider  well  the  case, 
They  nild  exalt  themselues  to  Princes  place.' 

11. 

They  would  example  take  by  Lucifer 

That  was  cast  downe,  the  father  first  of  pride  : 

And  al  his  impes  how  high  so  ere  they  were,  » 

Vsurping  Realmes  and  Kingdomes  farre  and  wide ; 
From  light  io  darke,  from  throne  to  thrall  they  fell, 
From  hap  to  hate,  from  life  to  death,  from  heauen  to  hell.^ 

12. 

Sufficient  here  is  sayd  io  warne  the  wise, 
For  he  by  prudence  oft  forecasts  the  doubt : 
The  foole  is  bent  all  warnings  to  despise, 
He  runneth  headlong  with  the  rascall  rout : 

7  This.    N. 

*  They  would  not  so  aspire  to  Princes  place.    N. 

*  From  bale  to  jilisse  and  downe  from  heauen  to  hell.    N. 


170  Kins^  Toj^rexl 


o 


Then  if  thou  cast  to  liue  at  rest  a  subiect  good, 

Touch  not  the  Prince's  fame,  crowne, '  scepter,  nor  his  blood.' 


LENUOY. 

1. 

It  lothed  me  a  L'enuoy  here  to  write 
Of  such  a  cruell,  proude,  ambitious  beast ; 
But  yet  sith  now  his  fanltcs  he  dolh  recite, 
And  warnes  for  murther's  venge  aliue  the  rest, 
Which  had  therefore  againe  his  death  addrest, 

I  will  (though  he  deseru'd  no  tale  to  tell) 

Set  downe  his  fall  for  sample  seruing  well. ' 

2. 
The  good  deserue  to  baue  their  praises  wrote, 
To  spread  their  fames,  t'incourage  those  aliue : 

'  Touch  not  the  Prince,  crowne,  scepter,  &c,     N, 
*  Tin  AuTHouB. 
Next  after  Porrex  came  an  other  such. 
Had  all  his  body  quite  in  peaces  rent: 
A  desperate  man,  his  life  bewayling  much  : 
Which  for  he  seemed  sorely  to  lament, 
I  was  the  rather  him  to  heare  content: 
That  I  might  also  note  his  story  here, 
From  like  attempts  of  vices  you  to  feare. 
[Here  follows  the  tragedy  of  Kimarus,  as  at  p.  208.] 
.  ^  The  author  has  followed  the  authority  of    the   Polichronicon  in  making 
Porrex  the  survivor.     In  the  chronicle  by   Hardiug  and  other  authorities  their 
destiny  is  reversed ;  though  generally  it  is  stated,  that  the  conqueror  obtained 
the  kingdom  through  the  powerful  aid  of  the  kin"  of  France.    Upon  the  story 
of  these  brothers  was  founded  the  tragedy  of  Gorboduc,  produced  by  Norton 
and  Sackvilein  1561,  which  was  one  of  the  earliest  legitimate  productions  of  the 
English  drama.    The  murderous  events  of  their  history  seem  not  to  have  been 
considered  sufficient  to  maintain  the  interest  of  the  play,  and  the  traditionary  tale 
was  deviated  from  by  making  the  old  king  Gorboduc   survive  his  sons,  and  to 
fall  n  sacrifice  with  the  queen,  to  the  rage   of  the   multitude.    But  this  accu- 
mulation of  horror  was  in  taste  with  the  times,  and  Sir  P.  Sidney  describes 
the  piece  as  "  full  of  morality,  which  it  doth  most  delightfully  teach,  and  thereby 
«btain  th«  very  end  of  poetry.'' 


King  PorreXi,  171 

Of  wicked  Princes  wee  the  falls  doe  note, 
A  Caueat  for  kingdomes  where  they  striue  : 
To  show  that  who  so  slaughters  doth  contriue, 

(Though  hee  deserue  agayne  no  tale  to  tell) 

His  tragique  fall  may  scrue  ensaraple  well. 

3. 
These  brethren  quellers  Brutus  bloud  bereft, 
Which  were  last  Kings  that  fate  of  all  his  line  : 
Six  hundreth  yeares  and  sixteene,  or  they  lefte, 
They  raygnde,  and  thus  they  spoilde  themselues  in  fine. 
The  ciuill  warres  insued  hereof  long  time. 
About  the  crowne  I  list  not  here  define. 

But  of  intj-qders  three  ^  that  after  fell, 

As  came  to  fight  in  order  next  1  tell. 

■  ♦  The  three  formed  part  of  a  pentarchy,  whereon  the  chronicles  are  uniform  as 

I       )t,o  the  obscurity. 


172 

HOW    KING   PINNAR 

was  slain  in  battayle  hy  Mulmucius 

Donwallo,  about  the  yeare  before  Christ, 
441/ 

1. 

Might  often  times  ouer  runiies  right'  to  fast, 
Right  commeth  after'  and  hopes  to  huue  his  owne : 
And  when  [agayne]  hee  ouertakes  might  at  the  last, 
Then  is  the  truth  of  all  the  quarell  knowne. 
Men  neuer  reape  no  other  then  was  sowne : 

If  good  were  the  gayne,*  the  better  commes  the  crop : 
On  vine  growes  the  grape,  and  not  the  biter  hop.* 

Of  this  that  I  haue  sayd  I  would  this  inferre  : 
A  man  by  might  a  while  may  perforce  withholde 
A  kingdome  not  his  owne :  but  hee  farre  better  were 
To  yeeld  vnto  the  right,  and  then  hee  may  bee  bolde. 
Good  metall  bides  the  touch  that  trieth  out  the  gold  : 

When  copper  playne  appeares,  the  counterfaite  in  cast 

Is  counted  but  as  drosse,  and  called  in  at  last. 

3.' 
I  am  that  Pinnar  once  a  Britayne  King, 
No  pinner  by  my  science  for  to  make  pinnes : 

*  Not  in  the  first  edition.  *  Right  ouerrunnes.  N, 

3  After  conies    N.  *  If  good  be  gaine.  N. 

'  The  grape  growes  on  the  vine  and  not  the  hop.  N. 
"  Of  this  now  spoken,  this  would  I  inferre, 
Men  may  by  might  a  Jiingdome  long  withhold 
Not  due  to  them :  but  they  far  better  were 
To  yeeld  vnto  the  right,  what  reason  would. 
Good  mcttais  bides  the  touch,  which  tries  the  gold. 
When  copper  counted  counterfeit  in  cast, 
Is  dcem'd  but  drosse  and  called  in  at  last.  N. 
^  I  am  that  Pmnar,  who  when  Brutas  blood 
Extincted  was  in  bloodie  Porrex  raigne, 


King  Tinnar,    -  173 

And  yet  1  could  well  cast  of  thousands  in  a  ring, 
To  catch  the  common  wealth  I  made  many  ginnes. 
Let  him  that  learnes  my  science,  tell  mee  what  he  winnes. 
For  tirrany,  and  robery,  conspiracy,  and  wrong, 
Prognosticats  of  rebells  raigne,  they  cannot  prosper  long. 

When  I  to  mee  had  gote  a  rascall  rable  rude 

Of  roisters,  ruffians,  ronagats,  and  knaues, 

I  did  my  selfe  at  last  into  the  throne  intrude, 

And  was  susteynd  therein  by  billes,  swords,  and  staues : 

1  made  of  them  officers  that  were  before  but  slaues : 
Oppressing  of  the  good  and  policing  of  them  still, 
For  to  inriche  the  bad  and  mayntayne  all  their  ill. 

5.9 

Duke  Cloten  of  Cornwall  was  heire  to  the  crowne. 

But  I,  with  other  rebells,  kept  him  from  his  right. 

Though  wee  were  conspiratours  voide  of  all  renowne, 

Yet  did  wee  raigne,  and  keepe  him  out  by  might. 

But  when  his  sonne  Donwallo  came  for  to  fight, 
MulmuciuSf  that  was  in  armesa  worthy  man, 
With  me  and  them  to  try'the  quarell  hee  began. 

Amongst  the  Princes  In  contention  stood, 

Who  in  the  Britaine  throne  by  right  should  raigne : 

Mongst  whom  by  miglit  a  part  I  did  obtaiue, 
That  part  of  Albion  call'd  Logria  hight, 
I  did  long  time  vsurpe  against  all  right.  N. 
'  Stater  who  stept  into  the  Scottish  throne, 

And  Rudacke,  that  vsurpt  the  Cambrian  crowne. 

Their  minds  to  mine  did  frame  and  ioyn'd  in  one. 

To  keepe  the  Cornish  Prince  stoat  Cloten  downe, 

Twixt  whom  and  vsin  fighting,  for  renowne 
Faire  Ladie  Albion  Europes  wondred  lie, 
Rob'd  of  her  beautie  was,  alas  the  while.  N. 
'  Duke  Cloten,  though  a  man  of  worthie  praise. 

Who  claim'd  the  crowne  as  due  to  him  by  right: 

Could  not  preuaile  till  death  did  end  his  dales, 

His  Sonne  Mulmucius  that  vndaunted  Knight 

Pursu'd  his  fathers  claime  with  all  his  might, 
And  meeting  vs  in  many  a  bloodie  field. 
At  length  in  inanly  fight  did  ijaake  vs  ;^eeld.  N. 


174  King  Vinnar, 

Hee  OTOUgnt  or  Cornishmen  a  rojall  army  gooJ, 
"With  other  subiects  late  by  me  before  opprest : 
And  made  mee  pay  the  price  of  pillage  with  my  bloud, 
Astraitour  slayn  in  field,  example  for  the  rest. 
Euen  so  who  eiier  shall  from  Prince  the  scepter  wrest, 
Vsurpe  from  him  the  crowne,  or  scale  the  throne  of  state, 
Shall  shortely  feele  the  rod  of  God's  immortall  hate. 


LENUOYE. 

1. 

Thus  though  vnorderly  his  tale  hee  tell, 
As  was  his  raygne,  yet  orderly  it  standes  : 
Euen  such  decorum  deckes  the  person  well, 
Who  in  his  life  decorum  due  abandes. 
No  fyner  fyled  phrase  could  scape  ray  handes, 

When  1  began  for  him  to  pen  the  same : 

Let  Pinnar  then  receiue  thereof  the  blame. 

2. 
And  now  you  must  suppose  did  next  appeare  '^ 

Another  Prince,  in  warlike  armour  clad,  '  * 

With  bleeding  woundes,  as  if  newe  slaine  hee  were : 
Reciting  first  the  hauty  haps  hee  had, 
And  then  his  fall  in  fight,  his  Fortune  bad. 
If  hee  vnstatelike  stammer  out  the  same. 

With  staylesse  staggering  footed  verse,  by  ame, 

Let  hardly  him  receiue  thereof  the  blame  : 

Or  geue  the  faute  to  th'  countrey  v\  hence  hee  came. 

*°  He  Lion-like  himselfe  with  his  all  troope 
Of  nimble  Cornish  met  vs  on  the  way, 
And  to  his  couqueiiiig  arme  did  cause  vs  stoope, 
'•^The  price  of  treason  I  with  blood  did  pay, 
■  ^         "My  wrong  deera'd  right  appear'd  in  my  decay. 

Who  so  by  violence  scales  the  throne  of  State, 
Seidotne  sits  sure,  but  Mies  by  violent  fate.  N* 


175       i 

HOW  KING  STATER  OF 

Scotland  was  slayne  by  Mulmucius  Don- 

wallo,  about  the  yeare  before  Christ, 
441.' 

1. 

OTiNT  not  in  stories  truely  for  to  tell* 
The  fall  of  vsurpers,  the  presidents^  of  pryde. 
Recite  of  our  treasons,  and  how  that  wee  fell, 
Intruders  vntrusty  the  Realme  for  to  guide  : 
Of  wit  and  of  reason  recklesse  and  wide. 

That  tooke  so  vppon  vs  to  rule  all  the  land, 

No  Princes  presumde  yet  with  scepter  in  hand. 

2. 
How  stately  I  Stater^  oi  Scotland iheKing, 
Did  beare  race  full  stoutely  when  I  had  the  crowhe  : 
And  what  a  great  army  o^ Scots  I  did  bring. 
Against  Lord  Donwallo^  of  noble  renowne. 
A  deemed  dame  Fortune  would  neuer  so  frowne, 

Who  made  me  a  Prince,  that  Kingdorae  ray  pray, 

Of  late  but  a  subiect  and  simple  of  sway. 

3. 

But  here  now  behold  how  steady  the  state 

Of  climbers  aloft  is  aboue  their  degree. 

And  how  they  doe  fall  from  fortune  to  fate, 

Example  are  such  as  my  fellow  and  me. 

The  fruite  giues  a  taste  of  the  sappe  of  the  tree. 
The  seede  of  the  herbe,  the  grape  of  the  vine : 
The  worke  wrayes  the  man,  seeme  he  neuer  so  fine. 

*  Not  in  the  first  edition:  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  notice  to  the  reader  the 
change  to  the  anapaestic  metre  in  this  short  life,  which  the  author  ^as  just 
called  "  staylesse  staggering  footed  verse." 

*  Desist  not  in  histories  truly  to  tell.  N.  *  Mirrours.  N» 


176  King  Stater. 

For  wlien  I  had  leuyed  an  armie  to  fight, 
I  ioyned  with  Pinnar,  ray  power  to  preuayle : 
And  Rudacke  of  Wales  came  eke  with  his  might, 
Mulmudus  Donwallo  the  King  to  assayle , 
Our  purpose  the  Prince  by  prowes  did  quailc, 

Which  came  out  of  Cornwall,  vs  vanquisht  in  fielde, 
Oursouldiers  slayne,  skard,  taken,  forced  to  yeelde.* 

5. 

0  fortune  I  blame  thee,  my  selfe  more  vnwise  : 
Thou  gau'st  me  a  kingdome,  and  with  life  I  it  lost. 
My  souldiers  were  slayne  fast  before^  mine  owne  eyes, 
Or  forced  io  flie,  yeelde,  and  smell  of  the  rost.* 

1  neede  not  of  honour  or  dignitie  boast, 

Or  tell  of  my  triumphes,  or  crake  of  ray  crowne : 
The  vaunt  of  vsurpers  is  voyde  of  renowne. 


LENUOY. 

1. 

A  worlde  it  is  to  see  the  meaner  sort 
Enhaunce  themselues  aboue  their  due  degree  : 
To  sit  aloft  they  deerae  a  noble  sport. 
From  whence  they  may  the  worlde  and  people  see. 
But  so  they  speede  as  their  deseruings  bee. 
Still  triall  telles,  lehoua  tumbles  downe 
Such  subiectes  false  as  dare  assume  the  crowne. 

2. 
For  if  these  Pagans  proud  so  plagued  were^ 
Which  tooke  on  them  ambitiously  the  sway, 
Wil  not  th'almightie's  Justice  soone  appeare, 

♦  Ou»  souldiers  were  slaughtered,  or  forced  to  yeeld.  N. 

s  Were  killed  before.  N. 

^  Or  forced  to  yeeU  *  abandon  the  coast,  N. 


King  Stater,  177 


When  Christian  men  tlieir  Christian  Kinges  betray  ? 
Yes :  he  (by  whorae  all  Princes  raigne  for  aye) 
Such  subjectes  smites,  as  dare  assume  the  crowne, 
And  from  the  throne  intruders  tumbles  downe. 

3. 
But  now  beholde  and  marke  this  story  well, 
Which  next  in  order  seemcs  his  tale  to  frame, 
With  bleeding  woundes  in  fielde  likewise  that  fell, 
For  so  me  thought  in  warlike  sort  he  came, 
The  last  of  these  that  Rudacke  had  to  name, 
Declaring  how  Bellona  strooke  him  downe, 
Because  he  had  vniustly  caught  the  crowne. 


N 


178 

HOWE     KING     RV- 

dacke  of  Wales  was  slayn  hy  Mid- 

mucius    Donwallo   about  the    yeere 
before  Christ   441/ 

1. 

RvDE  are  the  reuelles  royaltie  that  rape, 

Restlesse  the  raygnes  of  rebels  in  the  robe, 

Reckles  the  rage  where  cruelty  doth  scrape, 

Roundnesse  regarded*  but  little  of  the  globe, 

No  man  ambitious  prudent  with  the  probe, 
Crownerape  accounted  but  cunning  and  skill, 
Bloudshead  a  Wockehouse  to  beatc  away  ill, 

2. 
The  rudenesse  of  rebels  reaching  the  crowne. 
May  be  compared  to  Bladkud^ s  deuisc :^ 
[But]  better  sit  still  than  fall  so  farrc  downe,^ 
If  Lordes  coulde  by  others  hurt  learne  to  be  wise.' 
My  selfe  of  [high]  climbing  haue  payde  well  the  pricfj 

That  rudely  in  throne  rayselfe  did  install 

Aloft,  not  regarding  how  low  I  might  fall, 

o 
O. 

"When  Britat/ne  was  restlesse,  wanting  a  Kyng, 
(For  Forrex  and  Porrex  the  Princes  were  slayne)* 
The  land  many  peeres  ambitious  did  wring, 
Endeuouring  each  the  kingdome  to  gayne. 
The  heires  good  apparent  forsake  it  were  fayne. 

The  subiects  were  armed,  wee  nobles  did  striue, 

At  length  we  amongst  vs  deuision  contriue. 

*  Not  in  the  first  edition.  *  Estcem'd.  N. 

^  Bladhud's  fond  deuice.  N.  *  Adowiie  N. 

*  By  my  mishaps  let  other  meti  be  wise.  N. 

*  (For  Forrex  bight  and  Porrex  both  were  slaync.  N.) 


King  Jludacke,  l79 

4. 
Then  recklesse  wee  were  when  all  was  at  rest,  4  • 

And  each  had  a  kingdome  aloted  his  part ;  . 
The  vice  of  the  subjects  dayly  increast, 
And  justice  and  right  were  layd  quite  apart. 
The  lawes  ouerlashed  by  couine  and  craft, 

And  wee  that  did  gouerne  did  winke  at  this  geare : 

The  worser,  perdj,  our  faythed  freuds  were."' 

5. 
The  ball  that  dame  Fortune  emparteth  of  blisse 
Is  golden  to  gaze  on,  but  voluble  round : 
If  once  of  your  handfast  in  holding  you  misse, 
Away  then  it  roleth,  and  you  are  on  grounde. 
Of  watchers  thereon  so  many  abounde, 

And  catchers  thereat,  with  snatching  therefore, 

That  if  once  you  leese  it,  you  catch  it  no  more. 

6. 
A  Chirurgian  that  taketh  a  wounde  for  to  cure, 
If  skilfull  and  carefully  hee  sercheth  it  furst: 
The  sea  man  doth  sounde  to  take  the  deepth  sure, 
Ay  wisedome  well  taught  for  feare  of  the  worst. 
But  our  vile  ambition,  blinde,  blockish,  accurst, 

Not  prouing  the  sore,  nor  reckoning  the  sounde, 

Our  shippes  and  our  science  we  sinke  and  confoun(Ie. 

7. 

Ambition  put  sercheth  to  glory  the  greece, 

The  staire  to  estate,  the  graple  of  grace : 

But  in  her  is  hidde  of  perill  a  peece, 

Which  all  our  attempts  doth  dimme  and  deface. 

Perdy  shee  gets  vs  vaine  ioyes*  but  a  space, 

Short,  britle  as  glasse  :  false  fayre  glueing  light : 
Not  golden,  though  glittering  braue  in  the  sight. 

'  The  worser  thereby  our  faithfull  friends  were.  N, 
'  We  do  eoioy  her  vaine  loyes.  N. 

N  2 


180  King  Hiidacke, 

8. 
For  when  see  hatli  brought  vs  vnto  the  throne, 
And  Fortune  hath  fraught  vs  with  honour  at  fill : 
Then  there  to  sit  stedy  and  rule  all  alone 
Wee  racke  our  deuices,  and  scud  with  our  scill. 
"Wee  cutt  off  occursions,  wee  prole,  pole,  and  pill  t 
Wee  bolster,  wee  band  out,  to  brybe,  banish,  sley, 
The  pillers  of  prudence  that  prop*^  in  our  wey, 

9. 
Our  racieis  thenrestles,  our  sleeping  vnsounde  i 
Our  wakeing  is  warfare,  our  walkeiog  hath  woe  : 
Our  talkeing  is  trustless,  our  cares  doe  abound  : 
Our  fauners  deemde  faythfull,  and  frendshippe  a  foe. 
Which  troubles  our  fancies  so  tosse  to  and  froe. 
That  scarcely  wee  neuer  inioy  atjy  rest 
Tormented,  whome  Fortune  exalted  and  blest. 

10. 
This  thing  can  I  witnesse  what  troubles  ensue, 
What  cares  doe  vs  compass  enhaunced  aloft : 
I  therefore  wish  rebells  to  take  better  vewe 
Of  the  falles  of  intruders,  recorded  so  oft. 
Who  climeth  so  highe  his  fall  is  not  soft. 
If  once  hee  doe  stagger  or  falter  aside, 
Hee  cannot  recouer  the  rest  for  to  guide. 

U. 
When  I  with  myfelowes  (our  seines  which  thought  sure)' 
Here  ruled  the  realme,  there  fell  out  a  flawe  : 
Donzi}allo6\d^  seeke  the  Crowne  to  procure, 
Allcadging  a  title  thereto  by  the  lawe. 
He  when  him  resisting  in  amies  bright  vs  sawe,^ 
Came  strayght  with  an  hoaste  prepared  to  fight, 
With  sworde  for  to  trye  out  whose  title  was  right. 

s  Stand.  N. 

'  When  I  who  with  others  did  thinke  myselfe  sure.  N. 

*  Who,  when  to  field  our  power  we  did  draw.  N. 


King  Rudacke,  181 

12. 

Our  numbre  was  great,  our  title  vniust  i 

Our  consciences  guilty,  our  souldiers  agast : 

Our  enmy  with  honour^  bad  souldiers  of  trust : 

And  Fortune  was  frcndly  to  them  as  they  past. 

Theyslewe  of  our  men  by  manhoode  full  fast, 

Or  forst  them  to  flye :  In  the  feelde  wee  were  fayne 
To  resist^  them  (poore  Prynces)  and  so  wee  were  slayn0. 

IS. 

First  Pinnaff  then  Stater,  I  Rudacke  likewise 

At  last  was  with  number  oppressed  dispatcht, 

Let  Lordings  beware  how  aloft  they  doe  rise, 

[For]  by  Princes  and  commons  theyr  climing  is  watcbt. 

No  sooner  they  haue  at  the  scepter  once  snatcht, 
But  guilty  themselues  they  deeme  worthy  to  die, 
And  God's  iusticesuch  sentence  [f  accomplish]  doth  hie. 


LENUOY. 

1. 

You  seethe  end  ofrebelles  here  descride, 

Entruders  see  whereto  they  haue  to  truste : 

Their  seat  vnsure  and  slippery  downedotli  slide, 

Their  names  are  eaten  out  with  cankerd  ruste. 

Theyr  honours  soone  lay  toumbling  in  the  duste. 

Wherefore  I  count  thera  triple  thrise  and  foure  times  blest, 
Which  prudently  io  seiue  their  God  and  Prince  are  prcst. 

2. 

Sith  stories  all  doe  tell  in  euery  age 

How  these  crowne  croachers  come  to  shamefull  ends, 

And  how  they  shortely  winpe  the  wocfuU  Avage, 

Which  for  vniuslice  loua  iustely  sends: 

'  Donwallo  with  honour.  N.  *  Oppose.  N. 


182  '  King  Rndacke. 

Let  hauty  headstrong  heede  what  hee  pretends, 
Sith  hee  aliue,  in  death,  and  after'sonly  blest, 
Which  prudently  toserue  his  God  and  Prince  is  prc$t. 

3. 

But  now  behold,  from  Delphos  next  in  place" 

A  noble  valiaunt  Britaj/ne  there  1  vewde, 

Of  stature  tall,  well  sett,  of  comely  grace, 

With  body  broysde,  and  armoure  all  embrewde. 

His  wounded  breast  my  woefull  hart  berewde : 

Whose  life  and  death  may  proue  contented  wights  are  blest, 
Which  prudently  to  scrue  their  God  and  Prince  are  prest. 


183 

HOW    THE    NOBLE 

King  Breniius,  after  many  triumphant 
victories,   at   the  seege  of  Delphos  in 

Greece  slew  him  selfe,  about  the  yeare  before  Christ, 

375.' 

1. 

Amoncste  the  noble  martiall  worthy  men, 

Renowned  farre,  victorious  great  of  fame, 

Though  Autors  sound  my  praise  eftsoones  agen 

Emongst  the  Britayne  Princes  write  the  same : 

I  am  that  Britai/ne  once  that  Brennus  had  to  name, 
My  facts,  exployts  in  warre,  my  conquests  life  and  end, 
Doe  write  as  1  recite,  when  time  doth  leasure  lend. 

2. 
The  mighty  Monarche  of  this  noble  lie 
Mulmucius  (conquerde  tyranne  Princes  three 
They  by  intrusion  rayning  here  long  while)* 
Was  father  both  to  Belinus  and  mee. 
His  noble  acts  and  lawes  commended  bee. 
.  This  Belinus  (mine  elder  brother)  was  his  heire, 
And  Queene  Comwenna  was  our  mother  wise  and  fayr». 

3. 
When  after  him  my  brother  had  the  crowne, 
Hee  was  content  to  make  mee  eke  a  king : 
Hee  giiue  mee  Albany,  where  with  renowne 
1  rulde  a  while  by  lustice  euery  thing : 
But  at  the  last  ambition  made  me  bring 

An  army  thence,  agaynst  my  brother  for  to  fight. 

Which  rather  ought  t'aue  honorde  him  with  homage  right. 

'  Not  inserted  in  the  first  edition. 

*  Mulmucius  who  with  conquering  blade  did  free 
The  Britans  troubled  state  from  tyrants  vile.  N. 


184  King  Brennus. 

4. 

"When  Belinus  perceiued  mee  approach 

Vnto  his  Realme,  an  army  hce  addrest : 

He  warned  me  1  should  not  seek  t'incroatch 

That  was  not  mine,  for  liee  was  ready  prest 

Mee  to  repcll :  hee  wilde  mee  bee  at  rest, 

I  marched  one,  the  armies  met,  wee  fearcely  fought, 
My  souldiers  slayne,  to  sauc  my  selfe  by  flight  1  sought. 

6. 

To  Norwai/e  then  I  fledde  for  succour  hence. 

Where  good  Ehingus  reignde  the  gentle  King  : 

I  tolde  him  what  1  was,  and  eke  of  whence, 

Desirde  his  ayde,  me  home  agayneto  bring. 

And  he  not  only  graunted  me  this  thing. 

But  eke  his  daughter  SaivT/e  fayre  to  be  my  wife, 
With  me  to  pa«se  in  Albany  for  aye  a  Princely  life.* 

6. 

But  while  we  were  prouiding  ships  and  men, 

The  fame  abroad  of  my  rcturne  was  spread, 

And  Guthlake  that  was  King  of  Denmarke  then, 

Prouided  with  a  nauie  mee  fbrlead  : 

The  loue  of  Sami/e  so  enragde  his  riuall  head,* 

That  for  her  sake  he  must  perforce  my  ships  [and  me]  forlay, 
To  win  by  fight  or  take  by  might  the^  Lady  faire  away. 

7. 

And  when  our  nauies  mette,  he  wilde  me  yeelde    ' 

This  Lady  straight,  or  else  defend  the  cause  : 

A  thing  (quoth  I)  requested  erst  but  seelde, 

Against  of  Gods  and  men  the  sacred  lawes  : 

It  hath  not  erst  bene  hardc  amongst  the  wise  men's  sawf  s,* 

'  With  me  in  Albany  to  leade  a  princely  life.  N. 
*  His  eie  on  Samye's  beautie  had  so  fed.  N. 
^  Bv  force  of  arines  to  beare  the.  N. 


6 


Erst  bene  lieard  mongst  wise  men  sawes.  N. 


King  Brennus*  385 

That  any  King  should  clayme  the  like  with  sword  of  stormie  strife, 
Or  make  assaulte  in  warlike  sorte  to  winne  a  Prince's  wife.'' 

8. 

From  wordes  to  fight  we  fell  on  eyther  side. 

But  in  the  ende  I  was  discomfit  there, 

And  yeelded^  her  that  listed  scarce  abide, 

For  she  to  him  before  did  fauour  beare : 

By  tempest  then  our  nauies  seuered  were, 

And  he  perforce  by  storme  on  shores  of  Britat/ne  cast, 
Was  fayne  for  tribute  hostage  giue  to  Beline  or  he  past.' 

9. 

At  Seas  turmoylde  fine  dayes  with  raging  winde, 

Sore  wearied  with  the  fight,  the  foyle  and  losse, 

And  casting  with  ray  selfe  in  woefull  minde, 

The  cause  why  so  God  Neptune  did  me  tosse, 

Why  boyling  Seas  with  surges  so  me  sosse,' 
1  made  a  vovve  to  kill  the  raafi  that  causde  me  flye, 
Or  with  my  bloud  the  kingdome  all  from  him  to  buy. 

10. 

The  Seas  alayde,  at  last  my  ships  I  found 

And  rigde  agaiue,  at  seas  met  of  our  foes' 

Some'  wandring  Danes,  where  we  beset  them  round 

In  warlike  sorte,  we  did  them  all  inclose : 

£uen  so  the  wheele  of  Lady  Fortune  goes, 

Abiects,  castes  downe,  turnes  topsie  toruie  quight, 
The  men  of  late  extold  with  all  her  mayne  and  might. 

11. 

These  ships  my  wants  in  some  respect  supplyde 
With  tacle,  armour,  vitayles  and  the  rest 


-the  like  by  strife. 


Or  make  assault  by  wrong  to  winne  a  Prince's  wife.  N. 

But  on  his  side  the  conquest  did  appear, 

I  yeelded  her.  N . 

For  tribute  hostage  gaue  to  Beline  ere  be  past.  N. 

And  why  false  fortune  my  attempt  did  crosse.  N. 

At  seas  we  met  our  foes.  N.  *  The.  N. 


186  Ki?ig  Brennust 

And  so  to  Britayne  land  apace  1  hyde, 
For  kingdome  lost  to  make  againe  request, 
Or  else  by  might  and  force  away  to  wrest 

The  scepter  frora'my  brother  Beline^  and  the  crowne, 
Which  lay  that  time  by  North  at  Euerwj/ke  the  towne. 

12. 
To  lande  I  came,  and  did  menace  my  brother  sore,^ 
But  he  an  armie  did  with  speede  addresse,  ^ 

"Which  mette  me  straight  at  th 'entry  on  the  shore, 
Our  battayles  ioynd  and  fought  with  valiantnesse  : 
But  I  was  put  in  th'end  to  such  distresse, 
To  ships  I  flewe  and  tooke  a  fewe  with  me  beside, 
And  hoysiug  sayles  for  hap  to  Gallia  strands  I  hyde. 

13. 
Ariued  there,  I  trauayld  long  to  see 
The  nature  of  the  Countrey  and  the  men  : 
And  for  my  purpose  I  disposed  mee. 
To  please  the  Princes  and  the  people  then, 
In  hope  to  see  my  countrey  once  agen, 

To  winne  my  noble  kingdome  or  to  wreacke  the  wrong 
That  I  sustayud,  exilde  from  natiue  soyle  so  long. 

14. 
When  I  had  tolde  the  great  mishaps  I  had 
Vnto  the  Peeres  of  Fraunce,  some  ayde  to  craue, 
I  could  obtaine  no  succour  me  to  glad, 
Nor  men,  munition,  ships,  ne  vitaylcs  haue  : 
I  gate  rae  thence  to  Duke  Seginus  graue, 

Of  Prouence  then  the  Prince  renowmed  noble  farrc, 
For  prudence  prompt  in  peace  and  wisdom  great  in  warre. 

15. 
This  worthie  Duke  receiued  me  with  ioy, 
(For  of  afflicted  wights  he  had  remorce) 

^  And  tbreatned  Beline  sore.  N. 


i 


King  Brennus,  187 


He  hearde  me  oft  declare  the  great  anoy 

That  1  had  felte,  and  of  ray  brother's  force : 

Howe  Guthlacke  did  my  wife  and  me  diuorce, 
The  broyles  at  Sea,  the  toyles  I  taken  had  at  land, 
Which  neaer  coulde  the  face  of  Fortune's  foyle  withstand. 

J6. 

Thou  Britai/ne  tall  (quoth  he)  I  rue  thy  fate, 

Thou  noble  Prince  (for  so  thou  art  in  showe) 

If  I  could  now  restore  thee  thine  estate. 

Thou  shouldst  perceyue  what  fauour  1  thee  owe ; 

'Tis  Fortune's  vse  t'exalte  and  ouerthrow  ; 
My  counsayle  then  is  this  expect  her  grace  a  while, 
Till  where  she  frownes  she  turne  her  frendly  face  and  simile. 

17. 

So  in  his  court  he  did  me  intertayne, 

Where  long  1  liu'd  and  bare  my  selfe  full  well : 

Some  times  to  play  the  captaine  1  was  fayne, 

To  winne  some  praise  as  causes  did  compell, 

For  when  his  subiects  eyther  did  rebell, 
Or  confines  made  inroads  to  spoyleor  pray  his  land, 
Then  1  was  one  that  had  the  charge  to  take  the  warres  in  hand,* 

18. 

In  armour  fearce  and  stout,  and  strong  was  1, 

God  Mars  me  gaue  a  stearne  and  stormie  looke, 

With  feates  of  armes  by  land  or  seas  to  trye, 

Experience  taught  me  what  I  vndertooke  : 

No  payne,  no  toyle,  nor  daunger  I  forsooke, 

That  might  content  the  noble  Duke  of  Sauoy^s  minde, 
Whose  bountie  me  to  honour  him  and  serue  his  grace  did  bind.t 

19. 

In  peaceful!  milde  I  was  of  comely  grace, 

And  wise  in  talke  as  time  occasion  gaue, 

^  Then  appointed  was  to  take  the  warre  in  hand.  N. 

^  Whose  bounteoas  grace  for  aye  my  loue  to  him  did  bind.  N. 


188  King  Brennus* 

And  (though  I  say*t)  I  had  a  Princely  fac^j 
I  collide  both  hunt  and  hawkc,  and  court  it  braue  i 
Eke  Fortunes  past  had  made  me  sage  and  graue,  'J 

More  heedy  all  attemptes  to  prosecute  with  skill, 
Rash  bastie  men  (by  proofe  1  found)  incurre  the  greatest  ill.* 

20. 
When  Duke  Seglnus  sawe  my  humble  harte,  1^ 

A  regal  1  Br//rtyrte  Prince,  of  roy all  blonde,  ^ 

How  I  employde  my  selfe  and  all  my  arte,  ^ 

Mine  actiue  feates  with  grace  and  prowesgood,  ■• 

To  serue  and  quayle  his  foes  that  him  withstoode, 

He  gaue  his  daughter  rich  to  me,  a  peerles  [princely]  dame, 
His  only  hey  re,  and  Dukedome'  after  him  to  guide  the  same. 

21. 
By  her  (when  hee  was  deade)  1  Sauo7/e  had, 
A  countrey  fertile  famous  for  the  soyle ;  ''■ 

With  liberall  giftes  the  souldiers  hartes  I  glad,  ' 

To  wiime  the  restcs  good  will  I  tooke  some  toyle,  ^ 

By  banquets,  ie^els,  giftes,  or  warlike  broyle :  * 

Stil  vsing  all  the  meanest'obeysaunce  them  to  moue, 
Eke  all  the  waycs  that  might  allure  them  me  to  loue. 

And  settled  so  in  honour  greate  at  rest. 

Without  the  feare  of  forayne  foes,  or  nye  : 

1  mused  what  for  Britai/ne  warres  was  best. 

Which  way  I  might  agayne  ray quarcUtrye: 

Such  rcstles  hcados  hauc  they  that  sitte  on  hye  ! 

O  poore  estate,  how  blest  were  thou  that  sitstc  below. 
How  happy,  safe  and  sure,  if  thou  thy  state  couldst  know 

23. 
A  councill  called  for  the  same  intent, 
1  told  the  Lordesmy  purpose  for  the  warre, 

'  Rashnes  (by  proofe  I  found)  incurs  the  greatest  iU.  N- 
'  ^  With  lier  hu  Dukedome.  N. 


King  Brennus,  189 

How  I  to  haue  my  kingdome  here  was  bent,  Afjikfim  - 

They  all  agreed  to  levy  nerc  and  farre, 

Sucli  souldiers  good  and  captaynes  stoute  that  were, 
They  offered  seruiceeke  themselues  to  fare  with  race, 
To  winne  the  crowne  by  sworde  or  els  reiienged  bee. 

24. 

Concluding  thus,  a  powre  prouided  was, 

Munition  goo:l,  and  vitayles,  shipping  strong, 

On  voyage  so  with  hoysed  sayles  wee  passe. 

Wee  cut  the  seas  and  came  apace  along 

To  Brit:{i/t!e  shores  in  hope  to  wrecke  the  wrong 
That  oft  Ijefore  was  done,  or  winne  the  land  agayne 
Whence  whilome  twice  I  was  to  fly  with  daunger  faync. 

When  wee  were  landed  here,  1  herolds  sent 

To  claime  ray  Kingdome  at  his  hands,  ray  right, 

I  had  them,  if  hee  were  not  so  content, 

To  sound  defiaunce,  fyre,  and  sword,  and  fight : 

^ut  of  ray  message  hee  esteemed  light, 
Hee  brought  an  army  strong,  apointed  was  the  day 
Of  battayle,  then  to  try  who  beares  the  Crowne  away. 

This  when  our  mother  sawe  Corwenna  wise. 

That  mortall  warres  wee  wadge  for  Kingdome  sake 

Shee  with  her  selfe  did  many  wayes  deuise, 

A  peace  betweene  her  Martiall  sonnes  to  make, 

And  with  the  Lords  full  oft  did  counsaile  take, 

Yet  all  in  vaine :  there  could  noparle  of  peace  preuayle, 
But  Qu  wee  marcht  agreed  each  other  to  assayle. 

27. 

The  feeldes  once  pight  and  time  of  battaile  comme, 

In  place  where  should  bee  tryde  this  quarell  sad, 

In  armour  eke  the  souldiers  all  and  somme, 

'VVith  all  the  force  that  might  so  soone  bee  had, 


190  King  Brennus, 

We  captaynes  vsing  speach  our  men  to  glad, 
T'incourage  them  with  promise  proud  of  lasting  fame : 
Tweene  th'armies  both  Corwenna  stood  that  uoble  dame. 
And  thus  shee  spake  ; 

28. 

*'  O  out,  ahlas !  ray  sonnes,  what  raeanes  this  broyle  ? 

Will  you  in  feelde  my  tender  bowels  ha  rme  ? 

What  furies  force  you  thus  t'unkindly  toile  ? 

What  raeane  your  men  for  slaughteV  here  to  swarme  ? 

Did  not  this  wombe  once  both  inclo^e  you  warmc  ? 
And  cannot  now  all  Britayne  hold  you  brethren  twaine   , 
But  needes  by  one  of  you  his  brother  must  bee  slaine  ? 

29. 

**  Cannot  the  feare  oi  lane's  immortall  hate, 

Your  mother's  teares,  nor  woefull  waitings  moue  ? 

Nor  naked  brests  you  suckte  your  malice  slacke  ? 

Nor  cause  t'imbrace  the  sacred  lore  of  loue  ? 

O  euerlasting  loue  that  liu'st  aboue ! 
Then  I  protest  ere  you  doe  fight  the  feelde  this  day, 
You  shall  in  field  (vngratefuU  sonnes)  your  woefull  mother  slay, 

30. 

'^  Betweene  you  both  you  shall  bereaue  my  life, 

What  woes  (ray  sonnes)  aliue  shall  I  sustaine. 

When  1  shall  after  this  ambitious  strife, 

So  many  see  of  both  your  subiects  slaine, 

And  you  with  brothers  blond  your  swords  distayne, 
I  shall  (1  say)  in  th'end  of  fight  take  woefull  vewe. 
Of  that  my  sonne,  which  this  my  sonne  his  [noble]  brother  slewc. 

31. 
<'  O  rather  now,  my  sonnes,  leaue  of  to  iar, 
Lay  weapons  both  aside  take  truce  a  while, 
If  you  doe  loue  to  spend  your  time  in  war, 
Destroy  not  here  at  home  your  natiue  lie. 
The  present  cause  and  quarell  is  to  vile, 


King  Brennus,  391 

Joyne  friendly  both  your  armies  fayth,  and  firme  the  same 
To  take  some  conquest  great  in  hand  of  [euerjlasting  fame. 

32. 

*'  Therein  you  may  with  s^reater  honour' deale, 

By  this  defame  you  shall'"  your  selfes  for  aye: 

Thereby  you  may  enlarge  your  publique  weale, 

By  this  your  selues  and  it  shall  quite  decay : 

Thereby  you  shall  mine  age  with  honour  stay, 

Thereby  you  shal  [in  warres]  most  like  your  nol)le  father  bee, 
Which  ere  he  wan'  the  crowne  did  conquere  [Kings  and]  king- 
doms three. 

33, 

*'  Once  for  my  sake  then  ioyne  yet  handes  agayne,. 

Let  mce  enioy  once  both  before  I  die, 

I  would  to  see  you  frends  my  sonnes  bee  faine, 

And  hope  I  haue  you  will  not  this  denie, 

I  aske  a  thing  shall  neuer  hnrte  perdy, 
For  if  you  now  surcease  [embrace,]  and  loue  as  brethren  well, 
Then  all  the  world  of  this  your  [peace  and]  concord  aye  shall 
tell." 

34. 

And  turneing  then  to  mee,  thus  wise  shee  sayd : 

**  Thou  knowst,  iry  sonne,  how  twice  thou  hast  bene  foylde. 

Thou  twice  to  scape  with  life  wast  well  apayde, 

And  since  full  farre  to  countryes  straunge  hast  toyld  : 

If  now  thou  shouldst  of  life  and  all  bee  spoilde, 

(When  liue  thou  maiste  in  Princely  sort  with  peerelesse  ioy) 
Whattong  can  tell  thy  mother's  griefe  and  great  anoy. 

35. 

"  1  heare  thou  hast  in  Fraunce  a  Dukedoome  good, 

Of  subiects  good  thou  hast  an  armie  here, 

Thou  hast  a  wife  that  came  of  noble  blood, 

}"  By  this  you  shall  defame,  N.  '  Wore.  N. 


192  King  Brennus, 

Thou  need'st  at  home  no  foes  at  all  to  feare :       ^  >  *f./r^^*  ^ 

What  meaa'st  thou  then  such  raortall  hate  tobearc 

Against  mj  sonne,  thy  brother  here,  which  gaue  to  thee 

His  kingdome  halfe,  the  noble  land  of  Albany  ? 

36. 

*'  Sith  thine  ambition  first  procur'd  the  strife, 

Which  didst  in  armour  rise  against  thy  King, 

Against  thy  brother  lou'd  thee  more  thea  life 

Thou  didst  thy  siibiects  his  against  him  bring, 

Thiak'st  thou  it  was  a  wise  or  worthie  thing  ? 

If  not,  thou  hast  good  cause  thy  treason  all  confesse, 
And  though  he  draue  thee  out  therefore,  to  loue  him  ne're  the  lesse. 

37. 

*'  Thou  shalt  therefore  submitte  thy  selfe  to  race, 

And  take  a  truce  a  peace  I  will  conclude, 

Thy  brother  eke  shall  so  contented  bee. 

No  quarels  olde  shall  be  againe  renewde, 

These  broiles  haue  oft  my  cheeks  with  teares  bedewde, 
My  heart  is  rent,  my  hope  bereau'd,  my  ioyes  are  gone. 
My  life  is  lost  if  you  conioyne  not  [frendships]  both  in  one.'* 

38. 
Then  turning  vnto  Belinus  she  spake : 
*f  My  noble  sonne  (quoth  shee)  thou  twice  hast  quaylde 
Thy  brother's  power,  and  raad'st  him  twice  forsake 
His  natiue  land,  which  I  haue  oft  bcwaylde  : 
What  though  thou  haue  so  oft  before  preuaylde, 

Think'st  thou  againe  the  thirde  time  eke  to  winnethe  feclde  ? 

Or  art  thou  sure  to  slay  vay  sonne,  or  force  thy  foes  to  yeelde.* 

39. 
*<  What  glory  canst  thou  get  thereby  in  th'end  ? 
Will  not  the  worlde  of  your  foule  slaughters  tell  ? 
Will  not  they  all  that  Hue,  still  discommend 

*  Or  force  him  yeeld. 


King  Brennu».  193 

The  man  that  did  his  owne  deare  brother  quell  ? 

Mempridus  shamefull  actes  are  knowne  too  well, 

And  Porrex,  Britayns  both  their  noble  brethren  slew, 
Confounded  [shortly]  after  both  examples  good  for  you, 

40. 

'^  Nowe  further  this  againe  to  both  1  say, 

Doe  not  you  rue  these  noble  souldiers  good  ? 

Doe  not  you  see  how  many  you  shall  slay  ? 

Haue  you  no  care  to  shed  their  guittlesse  blood  ? 

The  state  of  tyraunts  neuer  stable  stoode, 

By  bloudshed  they  doe  founde,  bace,  builde,  and  prop  their  state, 
Raigne,  liue  and  dye  despisde,  and  heape  theraselues  eternall 
hate.* 

41. 

**  You  noble  men,  in  briefe  I  speake  to  you, 

And  vnto  all  the  Captains  of  your  bands, 

And  eke  to  all  you  souldiers  good  and  true,' 

Which  haue  the  sway  of  bloudshed  in  your  hands : 

Consider  well  the  state  of  both  our  lands  : 

You  shall  decrease  your  force,  by  ciuile  discord,  warres  and  strife, 
Distaine  your  blods,  defame  your  selues,  and  reaue  Cornwenna^s 
life/ 

42. 

"  Then  if  that  eyther  loues  immortall  ire, 

(Which  euer  hated  slaughters  such  as  these) 

Or  feare  of  Plutoe*s  euerlasting  fire. 

Or  daungers  threatned  both  by  land  and  seas, 

Or  mother's  minde  (which  both  you  ought  to  please) 

Or  countries  loue,  or  sacred  peace  (which  al  are  bound  t'imbrace) 
May  ought  perswade,  let  my  requests  among  you  all  haue  place.' 


By  bloodshed  they  do  build  and  prop  their  tottering  state, 
Raigne,  liue  and  die  despisde,  in  never  dying  hate.  N. 

•— your  force,  by  discord  and  by  strife, 

Distaine  your  blodds  and  reaue  Corwenna's  of  her  life.  N. 
Then  let  my  iust  request  haue  place.  N. 

o 


19%  King  Brennus, 

43. 

"  If  not,  loe  here  my  naked  breast,  (quoth  shec) 
Which  once  you  both  did  sucke  in  tender  age, 
Let  both  your  swords  in  these  first  bathed  bee. 
Perhaps  this  slaughter  shall  your  thirsts  aswage  : 
It  shall  be  counted  euen  as  small  outrage 

To  slay  your  mother  pleading  for  your  peace, 
As  wadgethe  wars  which  gods  and  menand  nature  wils  to  cease."' 

44. 
Much  more  she  sajde  which  were  too  long  to  tell : 
And  proffered  foorth  to  swordes  her  naked  brest, 
But  when  wee  both  considered  had  full  well 
PJer  woefull  teares,  her  wise  and  graue  request, 
They  so  to  peace  our  hautie  hearts  addrest, 

We  layde  our  weapons  downe :  we  met,  imbrac'st  and  kist, 
More  ioy  in  both  the  armies  was  then  erst  in  wars  1  wist.' 

45. 
We  ioyned  hands,  our  captaynes  did  the  like. 
And  eke  the  souldiers  linked  all  in  loue, 
There  was  not  one  that  did  our  truce  mislike. 
Our  peace  did  all  to  ioy  and  raaruaile  moue, 
With  many  triu raphes  feates  of  armes  we  proue, 
-  Our  subjects  ail  reioyce,  in  songs  we  sound  Cornewenna's  prayse, 
Her  fame  to  skies  aloft  with  many  showtes  and  cryes  they  rayse. 

46. 
The  Galles  and  Senons  then  supposing  me 
In  Brilayne  from  my  Dukedome  hard  at  fight, 
Thought  great  occasion  ofl'red  them  to  be, 
And  set  themselues  in  armes  and  order  right : 
My  subiects  eke  o[  Sauoj/  day  and  night 
They  did  entice,  perswade,  solicite  and  constrayne, 
To  chuse  another  Duke  at  home  with  them  to  raigne. 

6 Pleading  for  a  righteous  peace 

/iswage  ihe  warres  which  gods  coininands  you  to  surcease.  N. 

7 __ We  met,  niid  did  imbrace,  , 

All  warre  was  set  aside  and  ladie  peace  tooke  place.  N. 


King  Brennus,  195 

47. 

Whereof  when  I  heard  fell  in  Britai/nc  Isle, 

Eke  when  my  brother  Beline  thereof  knewe, 

We  layde  aside  our  sports  and  playes  a  while, 

And  of  our  souldiers  tooke  a  muster  newe  : 

Of  both  our  hoasts  we  chose  a  noble  crewe  : 

We  past  the  seas,  as  bretliren  ought,  in  concord  knit. 
And  both  our  force  in  one  to  conquere  Fraunce  we  fit. 

48. 

Without  resistance  much  we  spoil'd  the  land 

At  th'entry  in,  and  after  many  fights 

We  conquer'd  all  the  Realme,  my  foes  we  fand, 

Which  were  in  armes  stout,  valiant,  noble  wights. 

By  sword  they  fell  or  flewe  before  our  sights. 

The  Germains  force  likewise  that  did  them  succour  send, 
We  made  to  fall  therefore  and  to  our  scepters  bend. 

49. 
Three  hundred  thousand  we  in  armour  had. 
An  armie  great  renownde  Europa  through  : 
The  Kings  and  Princes  of  our  peace  were  glad, 
-^  We  were  in  fight  so  puissant  fearce  and  rough. 
Munition,  vitayles,  money  eke  enough, 

We  had  of  tributes  store,  of  dueties  in  that  came. 
Through  all  the  world  of  Brenne  and  Beline  flew  the  fame. 

50. 
To  vs  came  souldiers  out  of  many  parts, 
And  captaynes  worthy  for  the  fame  of  warre, 
Of  fearce  Bellona  braue  wee  had  the  arts, 
Whereof  wee  wanne  the  praise  both  neare  and  farre  ; 
,  -  But  not  with  this  wee  so  contented  arr, 

As  Hercules  to  scale  the  Alpes  did  first  contend, 

So  wee  agayne  (a  worke  of  toyle)  the  cloudy  Alpes  ascend, 

51. 
Great  mountaynes,  craggy,  high,  that  touch  the  skies, 
,     Full  steepe  to  climbe  vnto,  and  penshot  all, 

O  2 


J96  King  Brennus. 

The  Seas  allow  doe  rore,  and  foggy  vapours  rise, 

And  from  the  hills  great  streames  of  waters  fall, 

The  pathes  so  strickte  to  passe  the  speede  is  small :' 

The  ise,  snowe,  cold,  clouds,  rorablingstormes,  and  sights  aboue, 
Are  able  constant  harts  with  doubtfull  feare  to  moue. 

52. 

For  as  you  goe  sometimes  y'ar  fayne  to  reatch, 

And  hang  by  handes,  to  wend  aloft  the  way, 

And  then  on  buttockes  downe  an  other  breatch, 

With  elbowes  and  with  heeles  your  selfe  to  stay, 

Downe  vnder  well  behold  the  streames  you  may. 

And  waters  wilde  which  from  the  mountaynes  faling  flow  : 
Ore  head  the  rockes  hang  down  whence  riuers  rore  of  melting 
snow. 9 

53, 

When  wee  these  Alpes  had  past  with  daungcrs  greate, 

To  Clusium  towne  in  Tuscane  land  wee  came  : 

They,  as  wee  did  prouide  our  forage  vitayles  meate,* 

Did  issue  out  [in  armes]  to  intercept  the  same : 

Ambassage  to  the  Romaines  eke  they  frame, 

Desiring  aide  against  the  Galles  (so  vs  they  counted  theere) 
Because  I  was  of  Fraunce  and  Frenchmen  in  our  armies  were.* 

34. 

The  Romaines  then,  because  that  our  successe 

Reported  was  to  them  in  warres  before, 

Euen  for  their  owne  safegard  could  doe  no  lesse, 

But  aide  their  neighbours  now  at  neede  the  more  : 

To  parle  they  sent  for  peace  ambassadours  therefore, 


*  The  craggie  mountaincs  that  do  touch  the  skies, 
With  aged  heads  are  eiicr  wliite  with  siiov/, 
The  seas  allow  do  rore,  whence  vapours  rise, 
And  from  tlie  hilles  great  streames  of  waters  floe. 
The  pathrs  so  strict  to  passe  which  few  do  goe.  N. 

'  Hang  tbreatniiig  death  to  thcin  below.  N. 

'  The  Tuscans  as  w^  droue  our  heards  of  neat.  N. 

*  Frenchmen  with  vs  were.  ^<. 


King  Brenmis.  197 

Wee  aunswerde  wee  desirde  but  space  wberein  to  [bide  and] 

dwell, 
Because  our  peopled  Countryc  could  not  now  contayne  vs  well.^ 

55. 

But  they  forgetting  quite  of  armes  the  lawe 

Did  arrae  them  selues,  ambassadours  full  stoute, 

With  Clusians  came  to  bring  vs  all  in  awe, 

Without  respect  of  any  further  doute : 

Whereon  the  seige  from  Clusium  walles  aboute 

Wee  raysed  strayght,  in  speede  alarme  at  Rome  wee  cry, 
There  to  reuenge  th 'ambassadours  outrage  and  iniury.'* 

5Q. 

Yet  first  wee  thought  it  best  ambassage  send, 

To  haue  truce  breakers  such  dcliuered  vs, 

By  lawe  of  armes  as  ought  no  weapons  wend. 

And  yet  against  the  lawes  came  armed  thus : 

They  sayd  wee  were  a  people  barbarous. 

They  neither  punishe  would  nor  yeeld  those  Romaines  good, 
But  honour  them,  they  came  of  Fahius  noble  bloud, 

57. 

Full  swiftely  on  wee  marched  then  in  haste. 

And  towardes  Rome  with  all  our  powre  wee  hyde : 

At  Alia  floud  gan  forty  thousand  taste 

Of  Romaines  that  vs  met  what  might  betyde : 

Wee  slewe  them  fast,  the  rest  durst  not  abide. 

Wee  had  thespoyle,to  Rome  wee  came,  the  Citye  wee  possesse:^ 
A  thousand  waight  of  gold  [wee  make]  the  Romaines  pay^  for 
peace. 

58. 

Pannonia  eke  with  broiles  of  warres  wee  tame, 

And  many  yeares  wee  kept  them  vnder  yoke, 

s   Could  not  hold  vs  well.  N. 

*  We  raised  straight,  at  Rome  we  founded  loud  alarmes, 

To  wreake  reuenge  for  breach  done  gainst  the  law  of  armes,  N, 
'  We  came,  which  we  possesse.  N. 
6  Paid.  N. 


198  King  Brenniis, 

The  Princes  all  about  that  herde  our  noble  fame 

Desired  peace  with  vs,  before  wee  calmeto  stroke :' 

Wee  Britai/nes  made  Europa  all  to  smoke: 

To  part  our  armies  then  in  twayne  wee  tooke  [at  all]  no  doubte, 
And  seuerall  conquests  tooke  in  hand  as    [valiaunt]  captaines 
stoute. 

59. 

To  Macedony  Beline  tooke  the  way, 

Where  raigned  Ptolome  the  tyraunt  fell, 

AVhich  did  his  sisters  sonnes  vniustly  slay 

Before  their  mother's  face,  and  hercxpcll, 

Ars'moe^  that  vsde  him  earst  so  well. 

Yea,  though  before  the  Gods*  hee  sware  to  take  her  to  his  wife, 
And  loue  her  sonnes,  [hee  her  expeld,]  and  them*^  bereft  of  life. 

60. 

Euen  so  that  wicked  king  at  first  refusdc 

To  purchase  peace  with  price,  or  hostage  sende, 

That  had  before  the  fayth  of  Gods  abusde. 

Was  destinate  to  haue  a  naughty  ende : 

Let  Princes  well  beware  wh.at  they  pretende, 

For  who  for  kingdomes  sake  breakes  fayth,  and  murders  foule 

commits,* 
Let  him  bee*  sure  to  [baue  a]  fall  on  slipery  throne  hee  sits. 

61. 
Our  custome  was  that  time  to  send  each  where 
Our  Herouldes  offering  peace  for  tribute  golde. 
But  Ptolome  to  Beline  bad  Ijim  message  bea re, 
Conditions  take  of  peace  ne  tribute'  pay  hee  wouldc, 
Ne  frendship  would  admit  *  (as  hee  the  herouldes  tolde) 

'  Desired  peace  not  daring  vs  jjrouoke.  N. 

*  Tlioupih  by  the  gods.  N,  '  And  here  he  them.  N. 

*  Who  for  a  crowne  breakes  faith,  and  murders  foule  cuminits.  N. 

*  He  will  be.  N. 

'  But  from  King  Ptolomie  these  nowcs  we  heare, 
No  peace  he  crau'd,  no  tribute.  N- 

*  Ne  iriendship  crau'd.  N. 


King  Brennus,  199 

Except  the  enmies  layde  downe  weapons,  them  submit, 
No  truce  with  them,  no  peace  there  were,  nor  no  agreement  fit  J 

62. 

King  Beline  smilde  to  heare  the  heedelesse  King, 

Rash  witted  so  selfe  wild,  and  after  this 

The  Dardanes  offered  twenty  thousand  bring 

Of  souldiera  armde  for  ayde,  to  ioyne  with  his  : 

Quoth  Ptolome^  now  lost^  all  Macedony  is, 
Yf  we  once  conquerde  [all  the  East]  by  Alexander's  hande, 
Neede  we  the  Dardanes  ayde  these  straupgers  to  withstande  ? 

63. 

Wee  haue  (quoth  hee)  some  souldiers,  sonnes  of  those 

Which  serude  in  pay  with  them  that  vanquisht  all. 

And  for  our  selues  wee  nothing  feare  our  foes, 

Although  our  atmy  seeme  to  Dardane  sraalle : 

This  when  th'ainbassadours  related  all 

To  good  king  Dardane :  Then  this  noble  realme  (quoth  hee) 
By  this  yong  princox  pryde  will  all  be  lost  and  conquerde  bee.' 

64. 

With  that  alarme  they  crye,  and  armies  ioyne. 

Where  Britat/nes  sley  the  Macedonian  crewe. 

And  haue  for  spoyle  theyr  vitayles,  armour,  coyne, 

Tooke  PtoJomey  theyr  king  and  him  they  slewe. 

His  heade  abouethe  campe  they  beare  for  vewe 

On  speare,  to  make  the  rest  of  Greekts  in  doubt  to  stand, 
Before  they  enterpriceto  take  such  [woefullj  wars  in  hand. 

65. 

One  this  the  fame  of  Britaynes  far  was  spred, 

All  Macedony  held  theyr  conntrey  spoylde 

To  Alexander  (erst  theyr  armies  led) 


*  Except  our  weapons  laid  adowne  we  should  submit, 

No  arguments  of  peace  he  would  admit.  N. 
*>  Quoth  he,  not  lost.  N. 
">  Will  all  dispoiled  bee.  N. 

2 


♦200  Kifig'^'Brennus. 

And  vnto  Philip^  Princes  neuer  foylde, 

As  vnto  Gods  they  cry  in  warres  tormoylde : 

O  helpe  (quoth  they)  our  countrey  falls,  and  we  are  [all]  vn- 

donne, 
Without  your  aydes  whose  noble  actes  erst  all  the  world  haue 
won.^ 

But  SostheneSf  a  worthy  Macedonian  stouie, 
"VVhen  as  the  Britaj/nes  bathed  in  thcyr  blisse, 
Gate  vnto  him  a  warlike  worthy  route 
And  set  agayne  on  Be  line  there  ;  and  his 
Put  hira^to  foyle,  for  all  his  worthynes 

Wheron  when  as  the  souldiers  would  haue  made  him  all  theyr 
roye : 

By  captaynes  name  heetooke  iheyr  oth  theyr  enmies  to  distroye.' 

67. 

When  this  in  Greece  I  herde,  and  theyr  successe, 

First  of  the  feeldethey  womie,  and  folly  then 

Enrichte  with  spoyles,  giuen  all  to  idlenes 

"Which  were  before  approued  valiaunt  men : 

I  sounde  retracte  and  backwardcs  gate  agen, 

With  seuen  score  and  ten  thousand  footemen  for  the  fight, 
And  fiflecne  thousand  horsemen  good  of  manhoode  and  of  might"' 

68. 
With  these  apoyntod  well  my  fronds  to  ayde 
The  Britaj/nes  good,  and  Beline  in  that  case, 
To  Macedone  1  marcht,  with  souldiers  well  apayde, 
Both  for  my  brother's  sake  and  riches  of  the  place: 
Whereto  when  as  wee  came,  in  litle  space 


»  Without  your  powerful  aides,  whose  actcs  the  world  haue  v^on.  N. 
»  For  which  the  souldiers  all  did  chuse  him  for  their  kiug, 

But  them  as  captainehe  against  their  foes  would  bring.  N. 
'  Horse,  which  made  a  goodly  sight.  N. 


King  Breiinus,  201 

We  wan  the  feelde,  we  tooke  the  spoyles  of  all  the  land  at  will,* 
In  pleasures  plungde  we  had  of  wealth,  [renowne,]  and  fame, 
our  fiU.^ 

69. 

So  I  that  had  all  Macedoyne  in  awe, 

With  spoyle  of  mortall  men  was  not  content, 

I  past  not  of  these  conquests  all  a  strawe, 

The  temples  of  the  gods  to  spoile  I  ment, 

And  towards  Delphos  with  mine  army  went : 

Whereas  on  hyghe  the  temple^  stoode  most  glorious  to  beholde, 
And  god  Apollo's  shrine  enrichte  with  mighty  masse  of  gold.^ 

70. 

The  riche  and  welthy  gods  (quoth  I)  may  lende 

To  mortall  men  some  of  they r  treasures  great. 

They  haue  no  neede  thereof  for  to  dispende 

For  clothing,  vitayles,  armour,  drinke  or  meate:^ 

But  yet  wee  must  therefore  theyr  priests  intreate, 


*  We  wan  the  fielde  in  fight,  we  spoild  the  land  at  will,  N, 

'  After  this  battle  Beline  must  be  presumed  to  haue  returned  to  his  natiue 
land,  and  many  are  the  notable  deeds  which  he  reputedly  effected  for  the  weal  of 
Britain.  He,"  both  in  ciuile  iustice  and  also. religion,  as  at  that  time  was  vsed, 
encresed  his  realm,  constituting  thre  Archflamins,  whose  seas  wer  at  London, 
York,  and  Carleon  :  He  finished  the  foure  great  waies  begun  by  his  father:  [Viz. 
Wailing-street,  Ikenild-street,the  Fosse,  and  Ermin-street,  thus  referred  to  in  Cam- 
den's Britannia  :  '  Some  imagine  that  these  ways  were  made  by  one  MuLMunus, 
God  knows  who,  many  ages  before  the  birth  of  Christ :  but  this  is  so  far  from 
finding  credit  with  me  that  I  positively  affirm,  they  were  made  frorn  time  to  time 
by  the  Romans  !'  To  return  :  he]  subdued  and  made  tribiitarie  vYito  him  Denmark. 
In  London  he  made  the  hauen  which  at  this  day  reteineth  the  name  of  him,  called 
Belines-gate  :  and  as  master  Leiland  writeth  (whose  labour  and  Industrie,  in  most 
diligent  serchyng  out  the  antiquities  of  this  realm,  is  greatly  to  be  commended) 
builded  the  tower  of  London.  He  maried  his  daughter  Cambravnto  a  prince  of 
Almain  called  Antenor,  of  whom  those  people  were  called  Cimbri  and  Sycambri. 
Finally  after  he  had  reigned  with  his  brother  and  alone  26  yeres  he  died,  and  after 
the  pagan  maner  with  great  pompe  was  burned."     Lanquet. 

*  On  high  his  temple.  N. 
5  With  gifts  of  gold.  N. 

*  Brenne  ouercame  the  Macedones  with  their  Duke  Sosteme,  and  after 
spoyled  their  goddes  and  their  temples,  and  sayde  in  inyrth,  riche  Goddes  must 
geue  to  men  some  of  their  riches."    Grafton, 


202  Kins^  Brennus, 


o 


There  is  enough  for  them,  [and  vs,]  and  many  moe  beside, 
Of  offerings  greate  from  Princes  brought  of  all  the  world  so  wide.' 

71. 

This  Delphos  is  on  mount  Parnasus  fayre, 

In  Greece^  wel  fenst  with  rising  rockes  about, 

By  nature  plaest  aloft  in  pleasaunt  ay  re, 

So  high  to  scale  they  neede  no  enmics  doubt,^ 

^o  watch,  no  warde  they  keepe  the  walles  about : 

So  strong  steepe  pendent  are  the  rockes  whereon  it  [stately]  stands, 
As  not  the  like  could  euer  yet  be  made'  with  mortall  hands. 

72. 

When  in  this  city  shoutes  aloude  they  make. 

Or  when  the  trompets  sounde  therein  is  herde, 

The  Ecchoes  shrill  so  cause  the  skies  to  shake. 

That  straungers  staring  stand  and  muse  afferde : 

The  wordes  and  tunes  resounde  agayne  so  harde. 
So  often  times  aboule  from  euery  rocke  so  playne. 
As  if  to  one  that  cryde  a  thousand  cryde*  to  him  agayne. 

73. 

This  made  the  men  that  came  from  farre  to  maze, 

To  maruayle  much,  to  feare  and  wonder  still. 

And  at  the  syte  thereof  to  stare  and  gaze, 

Deuising  ofte  the  stately  high  and  mighty  hill, 

A  building  founded  first  by  heauenly  skill, 

In  citye  [fayrely]  builte  and  costly  grande  with  worke  of  hande, ' 
Apolloe's  temple  higlie  [to  heauen]  aboue  the  rest  doth  staiide. 

74. 
'Tis  rownde  theater  wise  so  braue  within, 
And  large  aloft  without,  pendant  vpright. 
So  high  it  seemes  impossible  to  winne, 
With  comely  forme  the  gazers  to  delight, 

'  Brought  both  far  and  wide.     N. 

•  No  foes  to  doubt.    N, 

•  CJould  since  be  made.     N. 

'  One  that  cride,  one  cride.     N. 


.    I 


Kins  Brennus^'il  203 

The  maiesty  whereof  [(I  weene)]  did  them  inuite 

That  chose  that  seate,  to  dedicate  a  temple'  in  the  same, 
Whereof  for  Oracles  was  spred  through  all  the  world  the  fame.* 

75. 
Amidste  the  height  of  this  Parnasus  mount, 
A  turning  wey  there  is,  and  in  the  playne 
A  denne  through  rockes  for  deepenesse  doth  surmount, 
And  turning  vaults  far  in,  whence  aunsweres  vayne 
The  priests  receiue  from  sprits  to  tell  agayne 

When  any  come  for  counsayle  there  of  things  to  [come  to]  knowe : 
Th'insensate  priests  the  aunsweres  of  deluding  sprits  doeshowe.* 

76. 
Wherefore  the  Kings  and  peoples  offerings  brought, 
From  all  the  world  and  coasts  of  nations  far 
Which  many  gifts  of  gold  and  siluer  wrought, 
The  statures  of  the  Gods  andiewells  rich  there  wer.^ 
To  Delphos  all  they  runne  in  any  doubte  wliich  ar,^ 
This  was  the  madnesse  tho^  that  mortall  men  bewicht 
Whereby  Apolloe's  temple  was  and  Delphos  so  inricht.' 

77. 
Low  nowe  [in  fewe,]  I  tell  at  Delphos  what  1  did, 
For  towardes  it  as  with  my  mates  1  went. 
Them  bee  of  courage  good  and  nothing  fearc  I  bid,' 
I  told  them,  with  the  spoile,'  them  to  reward  I  ment: 
But  now  I  askte  how  they  would  giue  consent 

The  captaynes  Euridane  and  2%cs5a/o/2e  companions  in  the  pray?* 
Where  it  were  good  [straight  now]  to  scale,  or  else  a  while  to 
stay, 

*  Terect  a  temple.  N. 

'  Was  spread  a  wori'irous  fame,  N. 

*  The  answere  of  deluding  sprites  the  priests  do  show.  N. 
The  go\([  of  kings  and  iewels  rich  were  there.  N. 

*  Run  that  doubtfull  are.  N.  ">  Then.  N. 

*  Was  with  gold  so  inricht.  N. 

'  Courage  good  nought  feare  I  bid.  N. 
'  With  Delphos  spoile.  N. 

*  Stout  Euridane  and  Thessalone  I  did  assay.  N. 


204  King  Brennusi 

78. 

The  Captaynes  counsaile  was  alarme  [at  once]  to  call, 

Before  the  Grcecians  were  prouided  for  defence,* 

And  straight  to  scale  with  skill  the  mighty  wall, 

Before  the  city  knewe  of  our  pretence : 

The  souldicrs  stout  abroad  encamped  thence, 

And  sayd  they  must  refreshe  their  weried  limmes  a  space, 
Vnable  else  to  scale,  or  meete  their  enmyes  in  the  face.* 

79. 

The  Grcecians  them  comraaunde  that  dwelt  by  hip 

In  villages,  to  make'  no  spare  of  wine  : 

The  Britayne  souldiers  fell  thereon  (o  sip, 

Forgate  their  feats  of  warre  and  playd  the  swine, 

Against  their  captaynes  eke  they  gan  repine  : 

So  that  full  long  it  was  or  wee  could  them  perswade 
To  flye  from  Bacchus  bouthes,  and  fall  agayne  to  blade. 

80. 
Of  souldiers  thousands  sixty  fine  1  had. 
But  of  our  enmies  fourteene^  thousand  were 
The  stately  towne  they  see  their  harts  to  glad, 
I  bad  them  not  at  all  to  stand  in  [doubt  or]  feare: 
Behold  (quoth  I)  what  doth  in  sight  [aloft]  appeare, 

Those  charets  glittering  brauc  and    statures  stout  in  founded 

gold' 
Of  sollid  masse,  more  [weighty]  riche  then  glorious  to  behold. 

81. 
For  on  the  Temple  stoode  a  sort  of  golden*  shapes. 
And  in  the  walles  thereof  their  pictures  shone, 


'  Did  prouide  defence.  N. 

*  Their  foes  in  face.  N. 

'  The  Greekes  in  villages  lo  make  them  trip 
Intreated  them  to  make.  N. 

*  Our  foes  scarce  fourteene.  N. 
'  Statures  all  of  gold.  N. 

*  Stood  faire  golden.  N. 


King  Brennus,  205 

Not  one  of  these  (quoth  1)  the  Brita?/nes  scapes, 
Wee  souldiers  shall  possesse  them  euery  one, 
Let  vs  therefore  not  linger  here  vpon, 
But  geuc  th'assauUe  for  here  in  hand  wee  haue  for  spoiles  a 

peece,9 
In  price  of  gold,  [ofperle]  and  geraraes  surmounts  the  wealth  of 
Greece.^ 

82. 
Wee  haue  or  this  the  wealth  of  men  possest 
(Yet  worthy  Princes  all)  of  mortal  1  men, 
But  here  the  treasures  of  the  Gods  are  prest 
To  looke  for  vs,  shall  wee  refuse  them  then  ? 
Wee  shall  not  so  bee  profered  ofte  agen 

Within  the  walles  hereof  are  greater  [offerings]  farre  by  odds, 
Th'attyre,  crownes,  scepters,  statures,  plate  and, garnish  of  the 
Gods. 

83. 
Wee  sound  Alarme  th'assaute  the  rockes  assayes, 
Our  souldiers  brainesicke  heedelesse  yp  ascend, 
The  Delphos  men  had  fenste  the  easiest  wayes, 
So  that  against  the  rockes  our  force  wee  bend : 
With  stones  the  scaleing  Biitaynes  downethey  hend, 
An  earthquake  eke  by  vowes  [and  cries]  the  sacrificers  reare, 
Which  on  my  souldiers  downe  [to  fall]  a  mighty  rocke  did 
teare. 

84. 
The  ground  did  shake,  and  rent,  and  tempests  rise, 
The  haylestones  mighty  fall,  the  thunders  rore 
The  lightnings  flasheing  dazled  all  our  eyes, 
The  Britaynes  from  th'assaute  were  ouer  bore,* 
My  souldiers  slayne  discomfit  mee  before, 

*  For  here  the  God  Apolloe's  pride.  N. 

*  Surmounts  all  Greece  beside.  N,  ■'      •  < 

*  Ouerborne.  N. 


206  King  Brennus. 

And  1  sore  wounded,  foule  amazde,  orecorae  with  [toileandj 

smart, 
T'escape  the  Greekishe  sword  [and  shame]  did  perce  my  selfe  to 
th'harte.* 

85. 
You  noble  captaynes  now  that  know  my  facts, 
Learne  valiauntly  in  warres  the  sword  to  wend, 
Let  fame  extoll  your  wise  and  warlike  acts, 
And  let  report  your  fortitude  commend : 
But  let  your  warfares  haue  a  wiser  end, 

And  let  what  Bochas  writes  and  Higgins  here  doth  pen, 
As  myrours  shew  what  good*  wee  gate,  to  warre  with  Delphos 
men. 


LENUOY. 

1. 

Great  ruth  that  such  a  noble  conqueroure,  * 

Should  haue  so  hard  and  infamous  an  end. 
Which  ol  the  worlde  might  haue  bene  Eniperour, 

'  The  principal  events  of  this  lone:  life  of  Brennus  are  also  recorded  hy  Grafton 
and  Harding,  or  ma)'  be  found  in  the  amusiiif;  and  copious  relation  of  Fabian. 
The  supernatural  discomfiture  of  his  army  and  occasion  of  his  death  is  thus 
related  in  the  Polychronicon.  "  Efte  Brennius  tourned  agayn  out*  of  the  eest 
countrees :  And  efte  buercome  the  Macedoyns  and  thcyr  duck  Sosten,  and 
spoyled  goddes  and  temples  and  sayde  nieryly,  tliat  ryche  goddes  muste  gyue  men 
somwhat  of  her  rychessc.  Also  he  spoyled  Appolyn  Delphicus  temple  in  the 
hylic  mount  Pcrnasus.  There  men  of  the  countrey  prayde  heipe  of  her  God,  and 
sodaynly  the  erthe  began  to  shake  and  a  prele  parte  of  the  hylle  felle  vpon  the 
h«oste  of  Galles;  and  hayleitones  slough  that  other  dele.  The  due  Brennius  for 
sore  of  his  woundes  myght  not  endure,  and  therefore  he  slough  himself  with  « 
sharpe  swerde.  No  man  shal  wonder  thoug,h  Appolyn  toke  wreche  of  hem  that 
spoyled  the  goddes  and  the  teniples:  for  God  suffreri  Appolyn  destroye  many 
nacions  by  cause  of  theyr  trespaas  and  euyl  lyuvng  and  dedes.  For  itiscertayn 
that  spirites  of  the  ayer  may  vse  her  shrew  dues  in  them  that  be  raysbyleuyd  and 
euyll  of  dedes :  For  grace  is  wythdrawe  from  suche  mancr  men  and  euyl  of 
opirytcs  haue  leue  grauntcd  to  noye  them  and  to  greuc  them." 

♦  Declare  what  good.  N. 


King  Brennus.  207 

If  all  be  true  that  storyes  him  commend : 
But  where  is  Fortune  permanent  a  frend  ? 

Shee  blyndelj  baytes  and  bathes  her  Impes  in  blissc, 

Who  trustes  her  still  I  count  ill  fortune  his. 

2. 
Galerius  and  Florianus  stoute, 
And  lulian  of  Rome  the  Eraperours, 
And  Diocesiane  of  Constantine  in  doubte, 
Though  in  their  times  full  worthy  warriours, 
So  counted  often  noble  conquerours, 

They  slewe  themselues,  abated  from  their  blisse  t 

Which  who  so  doth  I  count  ill  fortune  his. 

3. 

Cordila  slewe  her  selfe  in  prison  pent, 

And  Dido  for  jEneas  flight  away, 

That  Judas  which  betrayde  the  innocent, 

And  Pontius  Pilate  wrought  their  owne  decay : 

What  neede  1  here  on  desperate  captiues  staye  ? 

Sith  who  so  bathes  in  flickering  Fortune's  blisse. 

Without  God's  grace  I  count  ill  fortune  his. 

The  warres  haue  prosperde  well  with  Princes  oft, 
Yet  best  with  such  who  vertue  sought  alone, 
The  rest,  which  onely  werde  to  wende  aloft, 
Were  euer  foylde  confounded  by  their  fone : 
But  here  I  cease,  the  next  full  woe  begone, 

With  rented  corps  appeard  deuoyde  of  blisse; 

Recounting  thus  that  haplesse  ende  of  his. 


i^f 


HOW  KING   KIMARVS 

was  deuoured  by  wilde  beastes  the 

3^eere  before  Christ 

321. 

1. 

No  place  commendes  tlie  man  vnworthie  prayse. 
No  title  of  estate'  doth  stay  vp  vices  fall, 
l!io  wicked  wight  to  woe  can  make  delayes, 
No  loltie  lookes  preserue  the  proud  at  all, 
No  brags  or  boast,  no  stature  high  and  tall, 

No  lustie*  youth,  no  swearing  staring  stout, 

No  brauery,  banding,  cogging,  cutting  out. 

2. 
Then  what  auayles  to  haue  a  Princely  place, 
A  name  of  honour  or  an  high  degree. 
To  come  by  kinred  of  a  noble  race  ? 
Except  we  princely,  worthie,  noble  be  ! 
The  fruite  declares  the  goodnes  of  the  tree, 

Do  brag  no  more  of  birth  or  linage  than. 

For  vertue,*  grace,  and  manners  make  the  man. 

3. 
My  selfe  might  bragge,  and  first  of  all  begin, 
Mulmucius  made  and  constituted  lawes, 
And  Belinus  and  Brenne  his  sonncs  did  win 
Such  prayse,  their  names  to  be  immortall  cause.* 
Gurgunstus  Readbeard  with  his  sober  sawes, 

The  Sonne  of  Beline  and  my  Grandsyre  grand, 

Was  fortunate  what  ere  he  tooke  in  hand.  * 

»  No  kingly^. state.  N.  *  Lofty,  ed.  1575.  '  Silh  vertue.  ib. 

*■  Such  praise  that  all  the  world  giue  ihem  applause.  N. 


Kins  KimaruL  209 


4. 
His  Sonne  ray  grandsirc  Guintheline  did  passe 
For  vertue's  praise,  and  Martia  was  his  wife, 
A  noble  Queenethat  wise  and  learned  was, 
And  gaue  hcrselfe  io  study  all  her  life, 
Deuising  lawes,  discust  the  ends  of  strife 
Amongst  the  Britaynes  to  her  endlesse  fame : 
Her  statutes  had  oi Martian  lawes  the  name.* 

5. 

My  father  eke  was  sober,  sage,  and  wise, 
Cicilius  hight,  King  Guintheline  hh  sonne, 
Of  noble  Princes  then  my  stocke  did  rise. 
And  of  a  Prince  of  Cornwall  first  begonne  : 
But  what  thereby  of  glory  haue  I  wonne? 
Can  this  suffice  to  aunswere  eke  for  mee, 
I  came  by  parents  of  an  high  degree  t 

6. 
Or  shall  I  say,  1  was  forsooth  the  King  ?^ 
Then  might  I  line  as  lewdely  as  I  lust, 
No  sure,  1  cannot  so  auoide  the  sting 
Of  shame  that  prickes  such  Princes  are  vniust. 
Wee  rather  should  vnto  our  vertues  trust, 
For  vertue  of  the  auncient  bloud  or  kinne, 
Doth  onely  praise  the  parties  shee's  within.' 

7. 
And  nobles  onely  borne  (of  this  bee  sure) 
Without  the  vertues  of  their  noble  race. 
Doe  quite  and  cleane  themselues  thereby  obscure, 
And  their  rcnowne  and  dignities  deface : 
They  doe  their  birth  and  linage  all  deface. 


*  "  Marcia  was  right  connynge  and  conde  many  maner  craftes,  she  made  .the 
lawe  called  Marcene  lawe."    Polgchronicon. 

*  Or  shall  I  saye,  Kimarus  I  waskiucj.  ed.  1575. 
'  Praise  the  meu  that  vertuous  biii.  N. 

P 


2 JO  Knig  Ki?narus. 

For  wli  J,  in  deedc  thej  euer  ought  so  well 
In  vertues  graue,  as  titles  braue  excell. 

8. 
But  oft  (God  wot)  tliey  fare  as  erst  did  I, 
They  thinke  if  once  they  come  of  Princely  stockc, 
Then  are  they  placed  safe  and  sure,  so  hie 
Aboue  the  rest,  as  founded  on  a  rocke  : 
Of  wise  mens  warnings  all  they  make  a  mocke  : 
They  counsayles  graue  as  abiect  reedes  despise, 
And  count  the  braue  men  gratious,  worthy,  wise. 

9. 

This  kingdome  came  to  mee  by  due  discent, 
For  why  ray  father  was  before  mee  King, 
But  1  to  pleasure  all  and  lust  was  bent, 
I  neuer  reckte  of  lustice  any  thing, 
What  purpose  I  did  meane  to  passe  to  bring,* 
That  same  t'accomplish  I  with  all  my  might 
Endeuourde  euer,  were  it  wrong  or  right. 

10. 
1  deemde  the  greatest  ioyes  in  earthly  hap, 
1  thought  my  pleasures  euer  would  abide, 
I  seemde  to  sit  in  Lady  Fortune's  lap, 
I  reckte  not  all  the  .world  mee  thought  beside : 
I  did  by  lust  my  selfe  and  others  guide, 

Whereby  the  fates  to  worke  my  bane  withall. 
And  cut  mee  of,  thus  wise  procurde  Iny  fall. 

II. 
As  1  was  alwayes  bent  to  hunting  still, 
(Yet  hunting  was  no  vice  to  those  1  had) 
When  1  three  yeares  had  ruld  this  Realme  at  will, 
In  chace  a  chaunce  did  make  my  lieart  ful  sad ; 
Wilde  cru«ll  beasts  as  desperate  and  mad 

*  Purpose  I  to  passe  did  meaae  to  bring.  N. 


King  Kimamis,  211 

Turnde  backe  on  mee,  as  I  thera  brought  to  bay^ 

And  in  their  rage  my  sinfull  corps  did  slay  .9 

12. 
A  iust  reward  for  so  vniust  a  life, 
No  worse  a  death  then  I  deserued  yore, 
Such  wrecks  in  th'end  to  wretches  all  are  rifej 
Who  may  and  will  not  call  for  grace  before : 
My  wilfuU  dcedes  were  nought,  what  wilt  thou  more  t 

For  wanton  wildenesse,  witlesse,  hedelesse  toyes 

The  brutishe  beasts  bereaude  race  of  my  ioyes.^° 


LENUOY* 

1* 

By  this  appeares  that  time  in  Britai/ne  were 
Aboundant  store  of  wolues,  and  vices  rife : 
Mempricius  tale  the  like  doth  witnesse  beare, 
And  so  doth  Madari's  mangled  end  of  life: 
These  though  they  scaped  stout  Bellonae's  knifcj 

'  Of  KiraaruB  **  there  is  nothing  written,  but  that  he  was  a  wildc  and  wanton 
Prince,  geuen  to  all  pleasure  and  pastime,  and  rcigued  but  thre  yeres,  beyng  slain 
of  his  aduersaries  as  he  was  a  hunting."     Grafton. 
'°  The  Authoure. 
On  this  Kimarus  left  me  all  alone, 
And  so  did  Morpheus,  then  I  thought  to  reste: 
But  yet  againe  he  came  presenting  one, 
^  For  audience  likewise  making  his  requestc, 

A  worthy  prince,  he  ware  a  warlike  creste: 
A  blade  in  hande,  he  bloudy  rusty  bore. 
Was  all  his  harnesse  from  his  shoulders  tore. 

His  armes  and  handes  were  all  embrued  in  bloudy 

So  was  his  breste,  but  all  the  rest  beside 

Seemde  rayde  with  matter  vyie,  or  slimy  mud. 

With  red  and  yelowe  as  it  were  bedide: 

You  scarcely  could  the  sight  therof  abide : 
Yet  sith  he  seemde  some  worthy  wi<;ht  to  be, 
It  brought  by  farre  lesse  squemishnes  to  rae, 

P  2 


212  King  Kimarus. 

Yet  in  the  end  for  vices  foule  they  fell 
By  Wolues  dcuouide,  mine  Author  so  doth  teiK 

2. 
The  glory  vainc  that  fades  and  flits  awaj', 
Makes  men  so  blindc,  they  looke  not  on  theend  : 
Allurde  tolosse,  on  earthly  pompe  they  stay, 
But  fewe  to  scale  the  vertue  towres  contend  : 
Fewe  secke,  by  Christ,  the  heauenly  way  to  wend  j 
The  onely  causes  why  these  Princes  fell, 
Are  vices  vile,  as  auncient  authors  tell. 

3. 
Next  after  this,  on  stasre  a  Prince  appearde, 
With  slimye  glere,  and  bloud  beraidc  that  came, 
In  hand  a  dagger  drawne  his  foe  that  dearde 
Hee  bare  perdy,  and  showde  mee  eke  the  same  : 
And  thus  his  tale  in  order  hee  did  frame 
As  shall  ensue,  so  hee  mee  thought  did  tell 
How  hee  was  slaiisc,  and  slewe  a  monster  fell. 


213       >« 

HOW     KING    MORII" 

dus  was  deuoured  by  a  monster^  the 
yeare  before  Christ, 
SOS. 

LiET  mee  likewise  declare  my  facts  and  fall, 
And  eke  recite  what  means  this  slimy  glere ! 
You  neede  not  faine  so  quaynte  a  looke  at  all, 
Although  I  seeme  so  fulsome  euery  where : 
This  blade  in  bloudy  hand,  perdy,  I  beare,' 

And  all  his  gore  bemingled  with  this  glue, 

In  witnes  I  my  deadly  enmy  slewe,* 

2. 
Then  marke  my  tale,  beware  of  rashnes  vile, 
I  am  Morindus  once  was  Britayne  King, 
On  whom  did  sweetely^  Lady  Fortune  smile, 
Till  shee  mee  to  her  top  of  towres  did  bring  :•* 
My  fame  both  farre  and  neare  shee  made  to  ring, 

And  eke  my  praise  exalted  so  to  skye. 

In  all  my  time  more  famous  none  then  I, 

3. 

Some  say  I  was  by  birth  a  bastard  bace, 
Begotten  of  the  Prince  his  concubine. 
But  what  I  was  declared  well  my  grace, 
My  fortitude  and  stature  Princely  mine. 
My  father  eke  that  came  of  Princely  lyne. 

King  Danius  gaue  not  so  bace  degree, 

Nor  yet  the  noble  Britaj/nes  vnto  mee, 

'  Which  I  do  beare.  N. 

*  I  the  dreadfull  monster  slew.  N. 
^  On  whom  long  time  did.  N. 

*  Till  on  her  wheele*s  steepe  top  she  did  me  bring.  N. 


214  Kins[  Mor Indus. 


& 


4- 
For  feats  of  armes  and  warlike  poynts  1  past, 
In  courage  stoute  there  liu'de  not  then  my  peere, 
J  made  them  till  that  knewe  my  name  agaste, 
And  heard  how  great  my  enterprices  were, 
To  shrinke,  and  slinke,  and  shift  aside  for  feare : 
All  which  at  length  did  mee  such  glory  bring, 
My  father  dead,  the  Britat/nes  made  mee  King. 

5. 
But  see  how  blinde  wee  are,  when  Fortune  smiles, 
How  senceles  wee  when  dignities  increase, 
Wee  euer  vse  ourselues  discretely  whiles 
Wee  litle  haue,  and  loue  to  Hue  in  peace : 
Smale  fauters  facts  with  mercy  wee  release  :^ 
Wee  vse  no  rigoure,  rancoure,  rapine,  such 
As  after  when  wee  haue  our  willes  to  much. 

6. 
For  while  that  I  a  subiect  was,  no  King, 
While  1  had  nothing  but  ray  facts  alone : 
I  studied  still  in  euery  kinde  of  thing 
To  serue  my  prince,  and  vnderfang  his  fone : 
To  vse  his  subiects  friendly  euerychone, 
And  for  them  all  aduentures  such  to  take, 
As  might  them  all  my  person  fauoure  make, 

7. 
But  when  1  once  attained  had  the  Crownc, 
1  waxed  cruell  tyranous  and  fell, 
I  had  no  longer  minde  of  my  renowne, 
I  Tsde  my  selfe  to  ill,  the  trueth  to  tell : 
O  bace  degree  in  happie  case  full  well ! 

Whidli  art  not  puft  with  pride,  vaineglory,  hate, 
But  art  beneath  content  to  bide  thy  fate. 

I  Subiected  thoughts  doth  wicked  pride  suppress^.  Ni 


Khis  Morindus.  215 


8. 
For  I  aloft,  when  once  my  heate  was  in, 
Not  rain'd  by  reason  ruled  all  by  might, 
Ne  prudence  reckt,  right,  strength,  or  meane  a  pin, 
But  with  my  friendes  in  anger  all  would  fight, 
I  strooke,  kilde,  slewe  who  euer  were  in  sight, 
Without  respect,  rernorce,  reproufe,  regard, 
And  like  a  niadde  man  in  my  fury  far'd, 

9. 
I  deemde  my  might  and  fortitude  was  such. 
That  1  was  able  thereby  conquere  all. 
High  kingdome's  seate  encreast  ray  pompe  so  much, 
My  pryde  me  thought  impossible  to  fall : 
But  God  confoundes  our  proude  deuices  all, 
And  brings  that  thing  wherein  we  most  doe  trust, 
To  our  destruction  by  his  iudgement  lust. 

JO. 
For  when  three  yeares  I  ruled  had  this  He, 
Without  all  rule  as  was  my  rulesse  life,^ 
The  rumour  ranne  abroade  within  a  while. 
And  chiefly  in  the  Norwest  Countrey  rife, 
A  monster  came  from  Th^irish  seas,  brought  griefe 
To  all  my  subiectes,  in  those  coastes  did  dwell, 
Deuouring  man  and  beast,  a  monster  fell. 

11. 
Which  when  1  knewe  for  trueth,  1  straight  prepard 
In  warlike  wise  my  selfe  to  trye  the  case, 
My  haste  thereto  a  courage  bold  declard, 
For  1  alone  would  enter  in  the  place : 
At  which,"  with  speare  on  horse  I  fet  my  race, 
But  on  his  scales  it  enter  could  no  more, 
Then  might  a  bulrush  on  a  brasen  dore. 

*  Without  all  law  as  was  my  lawlesse  life,  N, 
^  Whom.  ed.  1576. 


2l6i  King  Morindm' 

Agayne  I  prou'd  yet,  nought  at  all  preuaylde, 
To  breake  my  speare  and  not  to  pearce  bis  syde  : 
With  that  the  roring  monster  me  assaylde, 
So  terrifide  ray  horse  I  coulde  not  ride, 
Wherewitli  I  lighted,  and  with  sworde  I  tride 

^y  strokes  and  thrustes  to  finde  some  open  in, 

But  of  ray  fight  hee  neuer  past  a  pia.** 

13. 
And  when  I  weried  was  and  spent  with  fight, 
That  kept  my  selfe  with  heede  his  daunger  fro, 
As  last  almost  a^harade  1  wanted  might, 
And  skil  to  worke  the  beastly  monster  wo, 
1  gate  me  nerer  with  my  sworde  him  to, 
And  thought  his  flankes  or  vnder  partes  to  woundc, 
Yf  there  for  scales^  might  any  place  bee  founde. 

14. 
But  frustrate  of  my  purpose,  finding  nonq, 
And  eke  within  his  daunger  entring  quite, 
The  grizely  beast  straight  seasoned'  mee  vpon, 
And  let  his  talauntes  on  my  corpes  to  light, 
Hee  gript  my  shoulders,  not  resist  I  might, 
And  roaring  with  a  greedy  rauening  looke. 
At  once  in  iawes  my  body  whole  hee  tooke. 

15. 
The  way  was  large,  and  downe  he  drewe  mee  in, 
A  monstrous  paunche  for  rowmth,  and  wondrous  wide, 
But  (for  1  felt  more  softer  there  the  skinne) 
At  once  I  drewe  a  dagger  by  my  side : 
I  knewe  ftiy  life  no  longer  coulde  abide, 


•  By  strokes  to  find  a  passage  to  his  life, 

But  now  I  found  in  vaine  was  all  my  strife.  N. 
'  From  scales,  ed,  1575i 
»  Seazed,  N.  '' 


King  Morindus,  217 

For  rammish  stench,  bloude,  poyson,  slimy  glere, 
That  in  his  body  so  aboundant  were. 

16, 

Wherefore  I  labouring  to  procure  his  death, 
While  first  my  dagger  digde  aboutehis  harte, 
His  force  to  cast  moe  welnigh  drewe  my  breath, 
But  as  hee  felt  within  his  woundes  to  smarte, 
I  ioyde  to  feele  the  mighty  monster  starte, 

That  roard,  and  belcht,  and  groande,  and  plungde,  and  cryde. 

And  tost  mee  vp  and  downe  frpm  syde  to  syde. 

17. 

Long  so  in  panges  hee  plungde  and  panting  lay, 

And  drewe  his  wynde  so  fast  with  such  a  powre. 

That  quite  and  cleane  hee  drewe  my  breath  away, 

Wee  both  were  deade  well  nigh  within  an  howre. 

IjO  thus  one  beastly  monster  did  deuoure 
An  other  monster  moodeles  to  his*  payne  : 
At  once  the  realme  was  rid  of  monsters  twayne.' 

18. 
Here  mayst  thou  see  of  fortitude  the  hap, 
Where  prudence,  iustice,  temperaunce  hath  no  place, 
How  sodaynly  wee  taken  are  in  trap. 
When  wee  dispise  good  vertuesto  embrace, 
Intemperaunce  doth  all  our  deedes  deface, 

And  letts  vs  heedeles  headlong  run  so  fast. 

Wee  seeke  our  owne  destruction  at  the  last. 


*  Vs.  N.  .  '       .       .        . 

^  TJiis  fable  of  the  monster  is  repeated  with  little  if  any  variation  by  most 
writers.  "  As  he  (Morindus)  wente  vppon  a  tyme  by  the  see.side,  he  mette  a  grete 
beste  that  was  blak  and  horrible,  and  hidous:  and  wente  that  hit  had  bene  a  whale 
of  the  see :  And  bente  an  arweblaste  and  wolde  haue  slayn  that  beste  with  a 
quarell,  but  he  myght  nought  smyte  hit.  And  when  he  hade  shote  alle  his  quarell, 
the  beste  anone  come  to  hymin  grete  haste,  and  him  deuourede  alyue,  and  so  he 
deide."     M.S.Brule.        jui^.,:.,' 


218  Kins:  Mor Indus. 


s> 


19. 
For  hee  that  hath  of  fortitude  and  might, 
And  thereto  hath  a  kingdom  ioynde  withall, 
Except  hee  also  guide  him  seUe  aright, 
His  powre  and  strength  preuayleth  him  but  small, 
Hee  cannot  scape  at  length  an  haples  fall : 
You  may  perceiue  a  myrrour  playne  by  me. 
Which  may  with  vvisdorae  well  sufficient  bee.* 


LENUOY. 

1. 

Wee  reade  the  valiaunt  actes  of  Hercules y 
His  mighty  labours  all  and  woefull  end, 
But  Samson's  conquests  of  his  enemies, 
The  holy  histories  to  vs  commend. 
Yet  who  so  shal  on  fortitude  depend. 
Still  trusting  to  obtayne  the  victory, 
Let  him  beholde  Morindus'  history. 

2. 
Or  of  the  death  of  Theseus  they  tell. 
The  fall  of  Brennus  and  his  woefull  end. 
Though  hee  in  force  and  powre  bee  nere  so  fell, 
Hee  cannot  still  on  fortitude  depend : 
Tis  vertue  sole  that  all  the  wise  commend : 


— an  haplesie  falle, 


Or  God's  reuenge,  example  take  by  mee, 

And  let  my  death  sufficient  warning  bee.  ed.  1575. 

The  Authoure. 
I  could  not  thus  departe  to  take  my  reste, 
For  Morpheus  bad  me  byde  and  heare  the  last, 
(Quoth  he)  behinde  as  yet,  is  one  the  beste: 
"  Do  stay  awhyle,  giue  care  till  he  be  past, 
"  And  therewithal!  approtched  one  full  fast, 
The  worthiest  wight  I  eucr  erste  did  see : 
These  wordes  be  spake,  or  like  it  seemed  mee. 


King  Morindus.  219 

Shee  still  obtaynes  for  aye  the  victory, 

By  true  reporte  of  euery  history. 

3. 
Strength,  beauty,  wealth,  facts,  fauoure,  fearcenesse  fell, 
All  earthly  pleasures  feele  a  paynefullend, 
Then  happy  thrice  is  hee  (the  truth  to  tell) 
That  onely  can  on  heauenly  powre  depend : 
But  now  I  must  to  you  the  next  commend. 

In  blacke,  mee  thought,  appearing  mournefullyj 

JDeclaring  thus  his  woeful!  misery. 


w.it' 


220 


HOW  KING  EMERIA. 

nus  for  his  tirany  was  deposed,  a- 
bout  the  yeare  before  Christ, 


235.' 


1. 

The  wofull  wight  that  fell  from  throne  to  thrall, 
The  wretch  that  woue  the  web  wherein  hee  goes, 
A  dolefuU  blacke  bad  weede  still  weare  hee  shall 
In  woefuU  sorte,  and  nothing  blame  his  foes: 
What  neede  such  one  at  all  his  name  disclose  I 
Except  the  haplesse  rest  ofBritaj/nes  should,* 
Not  here  for  shame  recite  his  name  hee  would, 

2, 
I  am  Emeriane  King  tiiat  raignde  a  space, 
Scarce  all  one  yeare,'  in  Brita^ne  Isle  long  sence, 
But  for  I  was  in  raaners  voide  of  grace, 
Ferce,  tjranous,  and  full  of  negligence, 
Bloud  thirsty,  crucU,  vaine,  deuoide  of  sence; 

The  Britaynes  mee  deposde,  from  seat  and  crowne, 
And  reaude  mee  quite  of  riches  and  renowne. 

3. 
I  was  despisde  and  banisht  from  my  blisse, 
Discountnaunste,  fayne  to  hide  my  selfe  for  shame  : 
"What  neede  I  longer  stand  to  tell  thee  this  ? 
My  selfe  was  for  my  wocfull  fall  to  blame : 
My  raygne  was  short,  in  fewe  my  fall  I  frame, 

My  lif^was  lothsome,  soone  like  death  that  found, 
Let  this  suffice  a  warning  blaste  to  sound. 

«  Not  in  the  first  edition. 

**  Except  the  rest  of  Britaine  princes  should,  N. 

'  The  chronicles  say  six  or  seuen  years,  and  deposed  for  his  tyranny. 


Kins;  Etnerianus.  221 


K 


LENUOY. 

1. 

The  cause  why  here  this  Prince  is  briefe  in  talke 
Is,  for  the  stories  scarce  reraembre  such, 
What  neede  I  then  with  them  more  farder  walke  ? 
Sith  this  perhaps  may  seeme,  is  sayd  to  much, 
I  must  but  briefly  these  vnworthy  tutch  : 

The  next  approaching  pufte  with  dropsie  wanne, 
Thus  wise,  mee  thought,  his  yexeing"*  talebeganne. 

*  To  y^x,  to  have  the  hiccough.  Johnson. 


I? 


222 

HOW     KING      CHIRIN- 

7ii(s  giuen  to  dronkennesse  raygned  but 

one  yeare.     Hee  died  about   the  yeare 

before  Christ, 

137.' 

1. 

Though  I  my  surfets  haue  not  yet  out  slept, 
Nor  scarce  with  quiet  browes  begin  my  tale, 
Let  not  my  drousy  talke  bee  ouer  leapt, 
For  thougli  my  belching  sent  of  wine  or  ale, 
Although  my  face  bee  falloe,  puft,  and  pale. 

And  legges  with  dropsy  swell,  and  panche  resound. 

Yet  let  mee  tell  what  vice  did  mee  confound. 

2. 
Perhaps  thou  thinkste  sogroase  a  blockhead  blunt, 
A  sleepy  swinishe  head  can  nothing  say  : 
The  greatest  heads  and  smalest  eke  were  wont 
-To  bcare  in  them  the  finest  wits  away : 
This  thing  is  true  thou  canst  it  notdenay. 

And  Bacchus  eke  ensharps  the  wits  of  some : 

Foecundi  calices  quern  nonfecere  disertum? 

3. 

Yet  sith  long  since  both  braynes  and  all  were  spent. 

And  this  in  place  amongste  my  mates  I  speake, 

1  trust  thou  wilt  bee  here  withall  content, 

Although  in  deede  my  wits  of  talke  are  weake  : 

So  old  a  vessayle  cannot  chusc  but  leake, 
A  dr«»usy  nole*  that  lyes  on  drinke  a  sleepeso  long. 
May  pardon  craue,  although  his  tongue  triptwifold  wrong.^ 

'  Nut  ill  tlie  firiit  edition. 
'  An  u.iwiliing  dolt. 

'  A  drunken  sot  whose  faltering  feete  do  slip, 
Must  pardon  craue,  his  tongue  in  talke  will  trip.  N« 
1 


King  Chirinnus,  225 

4. 
Chirinnus  was  ray  name  a  Britayne  King, 
But  rulde  short  time,  Sir  Bacchus  was  my  let : 
Erinnt/s*  eke  my  sences  so  did  swing. 
That  reason  could  no  seat  amongst  them  get : 
Wherefore  the  truth  1  pray  thee  playnly  set, 

I  gauemy  selfe  to  surfets  swilling  wine. 

And  led  my  life  much  like  a  dronkeu  swine. 

5. 
Deseases  grewe,  distcmpraunce  made  mee  swell. 
My  parched  liuer  lusted  still  for  baste, 
My  tympane  sounded  like  a  taber  well, 
And  nought  but  wine  did  like  my  greedy  taste, 
This  vice  and  moe  my  life  and  mee  defaste. 

My  face  was  blowne  and  blnbd  with  dropsy  wanne, 
And  legges  more  like  a  monster  then  a  man. 

6. 
So  not  in  shape  [and  shewe]  I  onely  altered  was. 
My  dispositions  chaunged  mee'  likewise. 
For  vices  make  a  man  [a  bull,]  a  goate,  an  asse, 
A  swine  or  horse,  (as  Poets  can  comprise) 
Transforming  into  beasts  by  sundry  wise 
Such  men  as  keepe  not  onely  shape  of  men, 
But  them  mishapeth  also  now  and  then. 

7. 
Wherefore  let  who  so  loues  to  Hue  long  dayes 
Without  deseases,  strong  in  youth  full  state, 
Beware  of  Bacchus^  booth  which  all  betrayes, 
The  vayle  of  vices  vayne,  the  hauen  of  hate. 
The  well  of  weake  delightes,  the  brande  of  ba(e, 
By  which  I  loste  my  health,  life,  realme  and  fame, 

♦  Erynnys,  i.  e.  the  goddesses  that  were  to  search  into  those  men  who  had 
committed  heinous  offences:   their  names  are  Megasra,  Tiaiphoue,  and  Alecto. 

*  Chaung'd  in  rae.  N. 


224  .         King  Cliirinnus, 

[My  wealth,  my  crowne,  ray  scepter,  sheelde  and  name  :] 
And  only  wan  the  shrowding  sheete  of  shame. 


LENUOY. 

1. 

Of  this  bad  vice  who  shall  embrace  the  loue. 

And  not  refraine  him  selfe  there  from  by  grace, 

Let  him  bee  sure  it  shall  his  sence  remoue, 

His  beauty  reaue,  his  facts  and  fame  deface, 

His  wealth,  strength,  health,  sliall  waste  and  were  apace, 
Hee  cannot  liue  in  health  till  liee  bee  olde, 
Nor  purchase  health  and  sober  fame  againe  with  sowes*  of  golde,^ 

2. 

The  Poets  painted  Bacchus  naked,  bare. 

Because  hee  doth  all  secrets  deepe  disclose, 

In  woemen's  weede  because  men  feebled  are, 

Effeminate  them  selues  to  wine  dispose. 

Like  wanton  childe  likewise  they  faine  hee  goes, 
As  droiikerds  wanton  were  though  nere  so  olde. 
Not  wonne  to  sage  and  sober  life  with  sowes  of  golde. 

3, 

But  naked  therefore  1  suppose  hee's  fayndc. 

Because  hee  makes  men  naked,  poore,  and  bare: 

Hy  him  they  waste  away  the  wealth  they  gaynde, 

And  plunge  tliem  seines  in  seas  of  woefull  care, 

Or  naked  then  of  vcrtues  all  they  are. 

When  ti)ey  to  Bacchus  bend,  both  yong  and  olde, 
Not  wonne  to  sage  and  sober  life,  with  sowes  of  gold. 

*  Sow,  a  great  luiiip  of  melted  irort  or  lead.    Bailey. 


Kins  Chirimms,,  225 


4. 
Who  loucs  to  Hue  a  wise  and  godly  life, 
Let  him  refuse  such  naked  gods  to  serue: 
Sc  shall  he  saue  his  fame  auoyding  strife. 
And  right  report  of  all  good  men  deserue. 
3ut  from  my  purpose  lest  I  seeme  to  swerue  : 
There  next  me  thought  a  Prince  J  did  behold 
Of  vicious  life,  and  thus  his  fates  he  did  vnfold. 


^1 


Q 


226 

HOW    KING    VARIANVS 

gaue  himselfe  to  the  lustes  of  the  flesh, 

and  dyed  about  the  yeare  before  Christy 
136.' 

1. 

Where  no  good  giftes  haue  place,  nor  beare  the  sway, 

"What  are  the  men  but  wilful  castaway  ? 

Where  gifts  of  grace  doe  garnish  well  the  King, 

There  is  no  want,  the  land  can  lacke  no  thing : 

The  Court  is  stil  well  stor*d  with  noble  [prudent]  men, 

Jn  Townes  and  Cities  Gouemours  are  graue : 

[The  lands  are  tild,]  the  common  wealth  doth  prosper*  then, 

And  wealth  at  will  the  Prince  and  people  haue. 

2. 
Perhaps  you  aske,  what  Prince  is  this  appeares  ? 
"What  meanes  his  talke  in  these  our  golden  yeares  ? 
A  Britayne  Prince  that  Varianus  hight, 
}.  helde  some  tune  the  [crowne  and]  scepter  here  by  right: 
And  though  no  neede  there  be  in  these  your  [golden]  dayes 
Of  states  to  tell,  or  vertues  good  discriue, 

Good  counsayle  yet  may  after  stand  ^  in  stead  al^ayes, 

When  time  agayne  may  vices  olde  reuiue. 

3. 

If  not :  yet  giue  me  leaue  amongst  the  rest 
"Which  felt  the*  fall,  or  had  their  deaths  addrest : 
My  cause  of  fall  let  me  likewise  declare, 

'  Not  in  the  first  edition^ 

*  Also  prosper.  N. 

'  Yet  doth  stand.  N. 

♦  Tbeir.  N. 


King  Varianvs,  227 

For  falles  the  deathes  of  vicious  Princes  are  : 

They  fal,  when  all  good  men  reioyce  to  heare  or  see 

That  they  short  time  enioyde  their  places  hie, 

For  Princes  which  for  [princely]  vcrtiies  praysed  bee, 

By  death  arise  extold,  they  scale  the  skie. 

4. 

I  will  \)e  short  because  it  may  suffice 

That  soone  is  sayde,  to  warne  the  sage  and  wise : 

Or  if  that  they  no  warning  neede  to  hane, 

This  may  perchaunce  somewhat  their  labour  saue 

With  yonger  heads,  that  will'  not  heare  their  fauites  thera  toldo, 

By  such  as  would  admonish  them  for  loue  : 

When  they  my  words  and  warnings  here  [of  vice]  beholde, 
They  may  regarde  and  see  their  owne  bchoue. 

5. 

About  my  time  the  Princes  liu'de  not  long, 

For  all  were  giuen  almost  to  vice  and  wrong  : 

My  selfe  voluptuous  was  abandond  quite, 

To  take  ini  fleshly  lust  my  whole  delite  : 

A  pleasure  vile,  that  drawes  a  man  from  [allgood]  thrifte  and  grace, 

Doth  iust  desires,  and  heauenly  thoughtes  expell : 

Decayes  the  corps,^'  defiles  the  soule,  [the  factes]  and  fame  deface, 
And  bringes  him  downe  to  Plutoe's  paynes  of  hell, 

6. 
-For  this  my  sinne  my  subiectes  hated  race, 

Repining  still  my  stayned  life  to  see  : 

As  when  the  Prince  is  wholy  giuen  to  vice, 

And  holdes  the  lewder  sort  in  greatest  price. 

The  land  decayes,  disorder  [sprouts  and]  springes  abroade, 

The  worser  sort  do  robbe,  pille,  polle,  and  spoyle. 
The  weaker  are  constraynd  to'  beare  the  greatest  loade, 
And  leese  the  goodes  for  which  [full  sore]  they  erst  did  toyle. 

5  With  those  that  will.  N.  ^  Doth  spoile  the  corps.  N. 

^  Weaker  force  to.  N. 

Q  2 


228  King  Varianvs, 

7. 

How  can  lehoua  iust  abide  the  wrong  ? 

He  will  not  suffer  such  haue  scepter  long. 

As  he  did  strike  for  sinfull  life  mj  seate, 

And  did  me  downe  from  royall  kingdome  beate, 

So  hath  be  done  for  aye,  examples'  are  in  stories  rife, 

No  wicked  wight  can  goueme  long  in  rest : 

For  eyther  some  [the  like]  bereaues  him  of  his  life, 

Or  downe  his  throne  and  kingdome  is  deprest. 
Bid  Princes  then  and  noble  Peeres  the  like  delights  detest. 
There  is  no  way  the  [iudgement  high  and]  wrath  of /owe  to 
wrest. 


LENUOY. 


1. 
What  should  I  longer  on  such  Princes  stay, 
Whose  factes  vnworthie  were  to  be  enrolde : 
The  cause  Why  thence  I  make  more  speede  away, 
Is  for  his  sake,  whose  fame  hath  farre  bene  tolde, 
That  noble  Nennius'  Duke,  a  captaine  bolde. 
Of  royall  bloud,  to  Prince  and  countrey  kinde, 
W  hose  fame  a  place  aboue  the  skies  stall  finde. 

2. 
When  he  the  fcates  of  armes  had  learned  well, 
And  coulde  encounter  with  the  best  aliue, 
Ilee  not  to  treason  nor  to  falshode  fell. 
Nor  with  his  ciuill  friendes  at  home  to  striue : 
But  hence  the  landed  Romaynes  out  to  driue. 

Which  sith  he  did,  to  Prince  and  countrey  kinde, 
His  fame  a  place  aboue  the  skies  shall  finde. 

-    '  The  like  examples.  Nj 


Ki7W  Varianvs.  229 


3. 

Eke  sitli  the  rest,  as  were  their  Hues  obsciire, 
Hane  tolde  their  tales,  but  simply  as  jou  see  : 
To  helpe  my  style,  the  Muses  most  demure, 
For  Nennius*  sake,  gaue  greater  grace  to  mee, 
Or  else  I  thinke,  frend  Reader,  t'was  for  thee. 
That  when  thou  readst  of  Nennius*  noble  minde, 
Thou  raaist  be  so  to  Prince  and  countrey  kinde. 

4. 
I  will  no  longer  thee  from  reading  stay, 
But  wish  thee  marke  howe  he  exhorteth  all : 
Do  learne  by  him  for  countreye's  sake  to  fray. 
In  peace  no  broyles  of  warres  at  home  to  brail : 
And  thinke  thou  seest  that  noble  captayne  tall 
Thus  wise  display  his  warlike  noble  minde, 
Duke  NenniuSf  so  to  Prince  and  countrey  kinde. 


230 

Howe   the  worthie  Britaine  Duke  Neii- 

nius  as  a  vnliaunt  soiddier  and  faithfull  subiecte 

encountred  with   lulius  Casar,  was  by  him 

death  wounded:  yet  nay  tilths^  he  gate  Ccesar^s 
sworde,  put  him  to  flight,  slewe  therewith  Labianus  a 
Tribune  of  the  Romaynes,  endured  fight  till  his 
countreyraen  wanne  the  field,  and  now  en- 
courageth  all  good  subiectes,to  defende 
their  countrey  from  the  power  of 
forraine  and  entruding  ene- 
mies.     He  was    slaine 
about  the  yeere  b^-  ' 
fore  Christ, 

52. 

I  MAY  by  right  some  later  writers  blame, 

Of  stories  olde,  as  rude  or  negligent : 

Or  else  I  may  them  wel  vnlearned  name, 

Or  heedlesse  in  those  thinges  about  they  went : 

Some  time  on  me  as  well  they  might  haue  spent,* 
As  on  such  traytours,  tyrants,  harlots,  those 
Which  to  their  countreyes  were  the  deadliest  foes.* 

2. 

Ne  for  my  selfe  I  would  not*  this  recite, 

(Although  I  haue  occasion  good  thereto) 

But  sure,  me  thinkes  it  is  too  great  despite 

These  men  to  others  and  their  countreyes  do, 

*  Neijerthelesse.  N. 

*  This  censure  was  probably  from  the  circuf%tance  of  the  deeds  and  name 
of  Nennius  being  omitted  in  the  Polyclironicon,  and  by  Fsjbian,  Lanquet,  Rastefl, 
and  Stowe. 

'  As  on  such  tyrants  who  as  bloodie  foes, 
Vnto  their  countrey  wrought  such  deadly  woes.  N, 

*  As  for  myselfe  I  doe  not.  N. 

'  That  to  the  dead  these  modcrne  writers  doe.  N. 


Lord  Nennius*  231 


For  there  are  Britar/nesy  neyther  one  or  two, 
Whose  names  in  stories  scarcely  once  appeare  : 
And  yet  their  lines  examples  worthie  were. 

3. 
'Tis  worthie  prayse  (I  graunt)  to  write  the  endes 
Of  vicious  raen^  and  teach  the  like  beware  :  . 
For  what  hath  he  of  vertue  that  commendes 
Such  persons  lewde,  as  naught  of  vertue's  care  : 
But  for  to  leaue  out  those  prayse- worthie  are, 
Is  like  as  if  a  man  had  not  the  skill 
To  prayse  the  good,  but  discommend  the  ill. 

4. 
I  craue  no  prayse,  although  my  selfe  deseru*d 
As  great  a  laude  as  any  Britat/ne  yore  :^ 
But  I  would  haue  it  tolde  how  well  I  seru'd 
My  Prince  and  Countrye,  Fayth  to  both  I  bore : 
All  noble  hearts  hereby  with  courage  more 

Mayboth  their  forayne  foes  in  fight'  withstand, 
And  of  their  enmies  haue^  the  vpper  hand. 

5. 
Agayne,  to  shewe  how  valiaunt  then  wee  were 
(You  Britaynes  good)  to  moue  your  hearts  thereby, 
All  other  nations  lesse  in  fight  io  fe^re, 
And  for  your  countrye  rather  so  to  die 
With  valiaunt  hauty  courage,  as  did  I, 
Then  line  in  bondage,  seruice,  slauery,  thrall 
Of  forayne  powres,  which  hate  your  manhood  all. 

6. 
Doe  giue  race  leaue  to  speake  but  euen  a  while, 
And  marke,  and  write  the  story  I  thee  tell : 
By  North  from  London  more  then  fifty  mile, 

^  Any  one  of  yore.  N. 

7  Both  tall  forraine  force  in  fight,  N. 

•  Of  their  foes  may  haue.  N. 


232  Lord  Nefinius, 

There  lies  the  Isle  of  Eli/  knowne  full  well, 
Wherein  my  father  built  a  place  to  dwell : 

And  for  because  hee  liked  well  the  same, 

Hce  gaue  the  place  hee  El^  hight  his  name.^ 

7.' 
'Tis  namde  the  Isle  of  Elj/  yet,  petdy 
My  father  namde  it  so  :  yet  writers  misse, 
Or  if  1  may  bee  bolde  to  say,  they  ly 
Of  him,  which  tell  that  farre  vntruth  like  is : 
What  truth  (1  pray  you)  seeraes  to  bee  in  this 

Hee  Elji/  lou'd,  a  goodly  place  built  there, 

Most  it  delited,  raygnde  not  full  a  yeare.* 

8. 
TIee  raygned  forty  yeares,  as  other  tell, 

Which  seemes  (as  'tis)  a  tale  more  true  by  farre. ^  uH 

By  Justice  guided  hee  his  subiccts  well, 
And  liude  in  peace,  without  the  broyles  of  warre. 
His  childrens  noble  acts  in  stories  are. 

In  vulgar  tongue  :   but  nought  is  sayd  of  mee,     ;  lioa!  »«>  mi  A 

And  yet  I  worthy  was  the  yongste  of  three. 

9.  n>  ,«tnr«;'Q^ 

His  eldest  sonne  and  heyre  was  after  King-,  /  > 

A  noble  Prince  and  hee  was  named  Z/?/rf,  /,- 

Full  politicke  and  wise  in  euery  thing,  .  t. 

And  one  that  wil'd  his  Countrey  alwayes  good  : 
S'.ich  vses,  customes,  statutes  hee  withstood, 

As  seemde  to  bring  the  publique  weales  decay, 

And  thera  abolisht,  brake,  repealde  away. 

'  Place  height  Ely  of  his  name,  N.  Some,  as  Camden  observes,  derire  the 
name  oP'Ely  "  from  Helip^  a  British  word  signifying  willows  or  sallows,  which  ic 
bears  in  abundance;  and  indeed  they  are  the  only  thriving  trees  here."  C(imden'$ 
Britannia. 

'  This  stanza  omitted  by  Niccols. 

*  Lanquet,Stowe,  Grafton,  FloresIIistor.     Margin  of  ed,  1515.  ./    ^ 

s  — — — as  stories  tell, 

And  fame  did  beare  his  name  buth  wide  and  far,  N. 


Loi'd  Neimius*  2S3 

10. 

So  hee  the  walles  of  Trot/  the  new  renewde, 
Them  fortified  with^  forty  Towres  about : 
And  at  the  west  side  of  the  wall  hee  vewde 
The  Towre  o'th  ^  gate  to  keepe^  the  enmyes^  out, 
That  made  hee  prisons  for  the  poore  bankrout, 

Namde  Ludgate  yet,  for  free  men  debters,  free 

From  hurt,  till  with  their  creditours  they  gree. 

II. 

Some  say  the  City  also  tooke  the  name 
Of  Lud  my  brother  :  for  hee  it  reparde  : 
And  1  must  needes  as  true  confesse  the  same, 
For  why  that  time  no  cost  on  it  hee  sparde  : 
He  still  increast  and  peopled  euery  warde, 

And  bad  them  aye  Kacrlud,  the  City  call, 

Or  Ludstone,  now  you  name  it  London  all. 

12. 
At  length  hee  died,  his  children  vnder  age. 
The  elder  named  was  Androgens  : 
Committing  both  vnto  my  brother's  charge, 
Theyongerofthem  hight  Tennancius : 
The  Britai/nes  wanting  aged  rulers  thus, 

Choose  for  that  time  Cassibellane  their  King, 

My  brother  lustice  ment  in  euery  thing. 

13. 
The  Homayne  then  the  mighty  Ccesar  fought 
Agaynst  the  Galles^  and  conquerde  them  by  might : 
Which  done,  hee  stoode  on  shoares  where  see  hee  raought 
The  Ocean  Seas,  and  Britai/ne  clieues  full  bright. 
(Quoth  hee)  what  region  lyes  there  in  my  sight  ? 

Mee  thinkes  some  Hand  in  the  Seas  1  see, 

Not  yet  subdued,  nor  vanquist  yet  by  race. 

'^  Enlargde  them  madewiih.  ed.  1375. 

5  Sic.  Strong.  N.  .      ; 

^  A  place  for  gates  to  keepe.  ed.  1575.  ^  Foemen.  N. 


^34  Lord  Nennius. 

14. 

With  that  thej  told  him  wee  the  Britm/nes  were, 
A  people  stout,  and  fearce  in  feates  of  warre  : 
(Quoth  hee)  the  Romaynes  neuer  yet  with  feare 
Of  nation  rude  were  daunted  of  so  farre, 
Wee  therefore  mind  to  proue  them  what  they  are. 
And  therewithal!  hee^  letters  hither  sent, 
^y  those  ambassage  brought,  and  thus  they  went.'' 


C.    IVLIVS    CiESAR 

Consull  of  Rome,  to  Cassibellane 

King  of  Britayne,  sendeth  greeting. 

Sith  that  the  Gods  haue  giuen  vs  all  the  West, 

As  subiects  to  our /2om«j/we  Empire  hie,    .,    ,  ^;p.  ..awn. 

By  warre,  or  as  it  seemed  loue  the  best. 

Of  whom  wee  Romaynes  came,  and  chiefly  I : 

Therefore  to  you  which  in  the  Ocean  dwell, 

(As  yet  not  vnderneath  subiection  due 

Wee  send  our  letters  greeting  :  wete  yee  well  il  «i' •*)  l«»  l'>^ 

In  warlike  cases  thus  wee  deale  with  you. 

First,  that  you,  as  the  other  regions,  pay 
Vs  tribute yearely,  Romaynes  wee  require: 
Then,  that  you  will  with  all  the  force  you  may 
Withstand  our  foes  as  yours,  with  sword  and  fire : 

And  thirdly,  that  by  these  you  hostage'°  send 
T 'assure  the  couenaunts  once  agreed  by  you : 
So  with  your  daunger  lesse  our  warres  may  end 
Else  bid  wee  warre.     Cassibellane  adieu. 


CiBSAR. 


»  The.  ed.  1575. 

*  — these  letters  he  did  frame, 

Brought  by  ainbassadours  which  hither  came;  N. 
»•  Pledgee  ed.  1575. 


Lord  Nennius,  235 

15. 

No  sooner  were  these'  Cassar's  letters  seene, 
But  straight  the  King  for  all  his  nobles  sent, 
Hee  shewde  them  what  their  auncestours  had  beene, 
And  prayde  them  tell  in  this  their  whole  intent : 
Hee  told  them  whereabout  the  Romaynes  went, 

And  what  aubiection  was,  how  seruile  they 

Should  bee  if  Casar  bare  their  pompe  away. 

16. 
And  all  the  Britai/nes  euen  as  set  on  fire, 
(My  selfe  not  least  enflamed  was  to  fight) 
Did  humbly  him  in  ioyfull  wise  desire,* 
That  hee  his  letters  would  to  Ccesar  write, 
And  tell  him  playne  wee  past  not  of  his  spite  : 

Wee  past  as  litle  of  the  Romaynes,  wee, 

And  lessethen  they  of  vs,  if  lesse  might  bee. 

17. 
Wherefore  the  ioyfull  King  agayne  replide, 
Through  counsaile  wise  of  all  the  nobles  had  : 
By  letters  hee  the  Romaynes  bests  denide, 
Which  made  the  Britaynes  hauty  harts  full  glad: 
A  nd  eke  the  liomayne  Consull  proude  as  mad' 

To.heare  these  letters  written  :  thus  they  went. 

Which  liee  agayne  to  mighty  Cassar  sent. 

CASSIBELLANE 

King  of  Briiayne  to  C.  lulius  Caesar 

Consull    of    Rome. 

As  thou,  O  Ccesar,  writste  the  Gods  haue  geuen  to  thee 
The  west:  so  I  replye,  they  gauethis  Island*  mee. 
Thou  sayst  you  Romaynes  and  thy  selfe  of  Gods  discend, 
And  darst  thou  then  to  spoile  our  J'roian  bloud  pretend  ? 

«  This.  N.  *  Require,  ed.  1575. 

3  No  doubt  the  Roinaiiios  more  then  half  were  mad.  ed.  1575, 

♦  He  to  mee,  N. 


236  Lot-d  Nemiius, 

Againe,  though  Gods  haue  giu'n  thee  all  the  world  as  thine^ 

That's  parted  from  the  world,  thou  getst  no  land  of  mine. 

And  sith  likewise  of  Gods  wee  came  a  Nation  free, 

Wee  owe  no  tribute,  ayde,  or  pledge  to  Rome,  or  thee : 

Retracte  thy  will,  or  wage  thy  war  re,  as  likes  thee  best : 

Wee  are  to  fight,  and  rather  then  to  frendship,  prest. 

To  saue  our  Countrye  from  the  force  of  ibraine  strife, 

Eche  Britayne  here  is  well  content  to  venter  life. 

Wee  feare  not  of  the  end  or  daungers  thou  doest  tell, 

But  yse  thy  pleasure  if  thou  maist,  thus  fare  thou  well. 

Cassibellane. 
18. 

When  CcEsar  had  receau*d  his  aunswere  so, 

It  vext  him  much  hee  thereupon  decreede^ 

To  wage  vs  warre,  and  worke  vs  Britaynes  woe : 

Wherefore^  hee  hasted  hitherwardc  with  speede. 

Wee  Brilaynes  eke  preparde  our  selues'  with  heede 
To  meete  the  Romaynes^  all  in  warlike  guise, 
>Vith  all  the  force,  and  speede  wee*  might  deuise. 

19. 

And  here  the  wiser  deemde'  it  raeeter  much 

T'assayle  them  first'  at  th'entry  on  this  land. 

Then  for  to  giue  aryuall  here*  to  such, 

Might  with  our  victualls  ayde*  our  selues  withstand : 

'Tis  better  far  thy  enmy  to  aband* 

Quite  from  thy  borders,  to  a  forayne'  soyle, 
Then  hee  at  home  thee  and  thy  Countrye  spoile. 

s^e  fully  straight  decreed,  ed.  1575' 

6  Therefore,  ib. 

7  The  Britaines  eke  prepar'd  themselues.  N. 

8  They.  N. 

*  Wee  Britaynes  then  farre  deemde.  ed,  1575. 
I  To  meete  him  first,  ib. 

a  Giue  an  eniry  here.  ib. 
3  Here.  ib. 

♦  The  enemies  I'aband.N.  *  Straunger.  ed.  1575. 


Lord  Nennius,  237 


20. 
Wherefore  wee  met  hira  at  his  entry  in, 
And  pitche  our  camps  directly  in  his  way  : 
Wee  minded  sure  to  leese,  or  else  to  winne 
The  praise,  before  wee  past  from  thence  away : 
So  when  that  both  the  armies  were  in  ray, 

And  trumpets  Waste  on  euery  side  was  blowne, 
Our  mindes  to  either  eche  were  quickly  knowne, 

21. 

Wee  ioyncd  battayle,  fearcely  both  wee  fouglit. 
The  Romm/nes  to  enlarge  their  Empyre's  fame : 
And  wee  with  all  the  force  and  might  wee  mought, 
To  saue our  Countrye  aad4oNkeepe our  name: 
O,  worthy  Britai/nes!  learne  to  doe  the  same: 
Wee  brake  the  rayes  of  all  the  Romayne  boast, 
And  made  the  mighty  Ccesar  leaue  his  boast. 

22. 
Yet  hee  the  worthyest  Captaine  euer  was, 
Brought  all  in  ray  and  fought  agayne  a  new. 
His  skilfull  souldiers  hee  could  bring  to  passe 
At  once,  for  why  his  traynings  all  they  knew : 
No  sooner  I  his  noble  corps  did  vewe, 

But  in  I  brake  amongste  the  Captaynes  band, 
And  there  I  fought  with  Ccesar  hand  to  hand. 

S3. 
O  God  thou  mightst  haue  giuen  a  Britai/ne  grace, 
T'haue  slayne  the  Romaj/ne  Ccesar  noble  then, 
Which  sought  his  bloud  the  Britaynes^  to  deface, 
And  bring  in  bondage  valiaunt  worthy  men, 
Hee  neuer  should  haue  gone  to  Rome  agen, 
To  fight  with  Pompei/,  or  his  peeres  to  slay, 
Or  else  to  bring  his  Countrey  in  decay. 

*  Sought  the  noble  Brltaiues.  N. 


238  Lord  Ne?inius, 

24. 

It  ioyde  raj  harte,  to  strike  on  CcBsar*s  crest, 

0  Ccesar,  that  there  had  bene  none  but  wee ! 

1  often  made  ray  sword  to  trjr  thy  brest, 
But  Lady  Fortune  did  not  fauoure  mee  :^ 
I  able  was  mee  thought  with  Coesars  three 

To  try  the  case :  I  made  thy  harte  to  quake, 
When  on  thy  crest  with  mighty  stroke  I  strake. 

25. 
The  strokes  thou  strookste  mee  hurt  race  nought  at  all, 
For  why,  thy  strength  was  nothing  in  respect : 
But  thou  hadst  bath'd  thy  sword  in  poyson  all, 
Which  did  ray  wound,  not  deadly  els,  infect : 
Yet  was  I  or  I  parted  thence  bewreckte, 
I  gate  thy  sworde  from  thee  for  all  thy  fame. 
And  made  thee  flye  for  feare  to  eate  the  same. 

For  when  tliy  sword  was  in  my  target  fast, 
I  made  thee  flye  and  quickely  leaue  thy  hold. 
Thou  neuer  wast  in  all  thy  life  so  gast, 
Nor  durst  agayne  bee  euer  halfe  so  bold  : 
1  made  a  number  Komaynes  hartes  full  cold  : 

Fight,  fight,  you  noble  Britaj/nes  now  (quoth  I) 

Wee  neuer  all  will  vnreuenged  die. 

27. 
What  C(Bsar  though  thy  prayse  and  mine  bee  od, 
^erdy  the  stories^  scarce  remember  mee) 
Though  Poets  all  of  thee  doe  make  a  God, 
(Such  simple  foolcs  in  making  Gods  they  bee) 
Yet  if  I  might*  my  quarell  try'd^  with  thee. 

Thou  neuer  hadst  retoumde  to  Rome  agayne. 

Nor  of  thy  faith  full  friends  bin  beastly  slayne. 

*  Not  lookc  on  mee.  ecl(1575.  ^  The  ancient  stories.  N. 

*  I  had.  N'  9  }^y  case  bawe  tride.  ed.  1575w 


Lord  Nennius,  239 


A  number  Britaynes  mightst  thou  there  haue  scene 

Death-wounded  fight,'  and  spoile  their  spitefull  foes: 

My  selfe  maimde  slewe  and  mangled  mo  ( I  weene) 

W  hen  I  was  hurte  then  twenty  more  of  those : 

I  made  the  Romai/nes  harts  to  take  their  hose,* 
In  all  the  campe  no  Romayne  scarce  1  spide, 
Durst  halfe  the^  combate  gainst  a  Britayne  byde. 

29. 

At  length  I  met  a  noble  man,  they  cald 

Him  Labienus,  one  of  Ccesar^s  friends, 

A  Tribune  erst-*  had  many  Britaynes  thrald, 

Was  one  of  Ccesar's  legats,  forth  hee  sends : 

Well  met  (quoth  1)1  minde  to  make  th'amends,^ 
For  all  thy  frendships^  to  our  Countrey  crew : 
And  so  with  Ccesar^s  sword  his  friend  1  slew. 

SO. 

What  neede  I  name  you  euery  ^nVflywe  here, 

As  first  the  King,  the  nobles  all  besyde. 

Full  stout  and  worthy  wights  in  warre  that  were, 

As  euer  erst  the  stately  Romaynes  tryde : 

Wee  fought  so  long  they  durst  no  longer  bide : 
Proude  Ccesar  hee  for  all  his  bragges  and  boste 
Flew  backe  to  ships,  with  halfe  his  scattered  hoste. 

31. 

If  hee  had  bene  a  God  (as  sotts  him  nam'd) 

Hee  could  not  of  vs  Britaynes  taken  foile. 

The  Monarche  Ccssar  might  haue  bene  asham'd 

*  Wounded  in  fi{;,ht.  N. 

'  Romaines  stout  their  courage  lose.  N.' 
^  A.  ed.  1575. 

*  "  Upon  land  Cassar's  horsemen  at  the  first  encounter  were  vanquished,  and 
Laberius  Durus  the  tribune  slaine,  in  a  place  now  called  Cheston  wood  neare 
vnto  Rocliester,  as  saieth  the  Chronicle  of  Wigmore."  Stozoe. 

^  Make  thee  mendes.  ib.  ^  Friendship. 

1 


240  Lord  Nennius, 

From  such  an  Island  willi  liis  ships  recoyle, 
Or  else  to  flye  and  leaue  behinde  the  spoile  : 
But  life  is  sweete,  hee  thought  it  better  flye, 
Then  bjde  amongste  vs  Britnynesy  here"  to  die. 

S2. 
1  had  his  sword  was  named  Crocea  mors, 

With  which  hee  gaue  mee  in  the  head  a  stroke,  ,^ 

The  venime  of  the  wliich  had  such  a  force, 
It  able  was  to  pearce  the  harte  of  oke  : 
No  medcines  might  the  poyson  out  reuokc, 

Wherefore  though  scarce  hee  perced  had  tlie  skin^ 

In  fiftecne  dayes  ray  braynes  it  ranclcd  in.* 

oo 

And  then  io  soone  (alas)  therefore  1  dydc. 

Yet  would  to  God  hee  had  returnde  agaync, 

So  that  I  might  but  once  the  dastard  spydc. 

Before  hee  went  I  had  the  serpent  slayne. 

Hee  playde  the  coward  cutthrote  all  to  playne  : 
A  beastly  serpent's  harte  that  beaste  detects, 
Which,  or  hee  fight,  his  sworde  with  bane  infect?. 

34. 
Well,  then  my  death  brought  Ccesar  no  renowne, 
For  both  1  gate  thereby  eternall  fame, 
And  eke  his  sworde  to  strike  his  friends  adowne  : 
I  slewe  therewith  his  Lahiene  by  name ; 

7  For.  ib. 

'  "  The  same  [Brliisli]  historic  aiso  maketh  mention  of  one  Belinus  that  was 
gencrall  of  Cassibellanc's  armie,  and  likewise  of  Neiiius  brother  to  Cassibellane, 
who  ill  figlit  iiappcned  to  get  Cesar's  swoord  fastened  in  his  shield  by  a  blow 
which  Cesar  stroke  at  him.  Androgeus  also  and  Tenancius  were  at  the  battel! 
ill  aid  of  Cassibellane.  But  Nenius  died  within  15  dales  after  the  battell  of  the 
hurt  receiued  at  Cesar's  hand,  although  after  lie  was  so  hurt,  he  slue  Labienus 
one  of  the  Roinane  tribunes :  all  which  may  well  be  true,  sith  Cesar  either 
makctli  the  best  of  things  for  his  owne  honour,  or  else  coucting  to  write  but  com- 
mentaries maketh  no  account  to  declare  the  needcfiil  circumstances,  or  any 
more  of  the  matter,  than  the  chiefe  points  of  his  dealing."  Holimhed. 


Lord  Nennius,  241 

With  Prince  aj^ainst  my  Countrey  foes  I  came, 

Was  wounded  yet  did  neuer  faynt  nor  yeelde. 

Till  CcBsar  with  his  souldiers  fled  the  fielde. 

34. 
Who  would  not  venter  life  in  such  a  case  ? 
Who  would  not  fight  at  Countrye*s  whole  request? 
Who  would  not  meeting  Ccesar  in  the  place, 
Fight  for  life,  Prince,  and  Countrye,  with  the  best  f 
The  greatest  courage  is  by  facts  exprest : 

Then  for  thy  Prince,  with  fortitude,  as  I, 

And  Realme's  defence,'  is  praise  to  liue  or  dy. 

35. 
Now  write  my  life  when  thou  hast  leasure,  and 
Will  all  thy  c(mntrymen  to  learne  by  race, 
Both  for  their  Prince  and  for  their  natiue  land, 
As  valiaunt,  bolde,  and  fearelesse  for  to  bee. 
A  paterne  playne  of  fortitude  they  see : 

To  which  directly  if  themselues  they  frame, 

They  shall  preserue  their  Countrye,  fayth,  and  fame. 


LENUOY." 

1. 

When  noble  Nennius  thus  had  ended  talke, 
Me  thought  he  vanisht  with  so  sweete  a  smell,* 
As  though  the-*  graces  all  with  him  had  walkte, 
And  what  I  heard  of  musicke  did  excell, 
Like  notes  of  instruments  no  tongue  can  tell, 

»  Behofe.  ed.  1575. 

*  The  first  eight  stanzas  of  the  "  L'enuoy"  form  the  like  number  commencing 
"  tlje  Author"  in  the  edition  of  1575. 

1  He  vanisht  with  so  sweete  an  heauenly  smell,  ib. 

*  Me  seemde  the.  ib. 

R  . 


242  Lord  Nermius, 

In'  harmony  of  such  an  heauenly  noyes, 
Me  seemdc  they  passed  all  our  earthly  ioyes. 

2. 
Their  tunes  declarde  the  battayle  all  so  right, 
As  if  the  Britai/nes  and  the  Bomaines  than 
Had  presently  in  hearing  and  in  sight, 
A  fresh  the  bloudy  battayle  all  bejran  : 
Me  thought  I  heard  the  vertues  of  the  man 

By  notes  declarde,  and  Caisar's  daungers  tolde 
More  plainely  then  with  eyes  I  might  beholde. 

3. 
But  when  they  came  to  tell  of  CoRsar's  flight, 
1  saw  the  Romaines  fall  me  thought  full  fast, 
And  all  the  Britai/nes  chace  them  euen  till  night : 
Wherewith,  the  sound  of  British  trumpets  blast 
Made  me  so  madde,  amazed^  at  the  last, 
1  lookt  about  for  sworde  or  weapon,  I 
To  runne  with  Britai/nes  cryde,  they  flie,  they  flie. 

4. 
Their  flight  to  ships  and  foyle  the  trumpets  sound, 
And  blewe  the  victours  triumphes  at  returnc  : 
The  noyse  well  nigh  my  sences  did  confound, 
And  made  my  heart  with  all  their  loues  to  burne  : 
But  when  they  gan  the  wounded  Britai/nes  mourne 
With  doubled  wayling  shrickes,  such  cryes  they  sente 
And  sobbes  and  sighes,  wel  nigh  my  heart  they  rente. 

,    "        5. 
Eke  chiefly  they  at  noble  Nennius  stayde. 
They  seemde  with  dolefull  tunes  their  notes  to  riue : 
And  sodaynly  hisprayse  againe  they  playde, 
O  worthie  Nennius  for  thy  factes  aliue ! 
The  trumpeof  fame  was  straighlly  chargde  reuiue, 

5  With.  ed.  1575. 
'  And  mazed,  ib. 


Lord  Nennius,         '  243 

And  keepe,  maintaine  and  celebrate  his  prayse  : 

Which  done,  me  thought  they  vanisht'  quite  their  wajes. 

6. 
On  this  in  troubled  traunce  I  lay  a  while, ^ 
In  ioy  reioycing  what  a  wight  he  was, 
A  worth ie  Duke,'  that  for  this  noble  lie 
So  fought  it  forth,  a  myrrour  fay  re,*  a  ^lasse 
For  those  aliue  :  his  vertues  sosurpasse,^ 

That-*  for  his  factes,  fight,  fortitude,  and  fame, 

He  well  deserues'  an  euerlasting  name. 

7. 
At  such  a  time  and  place  is  vertue  tryde, 
When  manhood  may  both  Prince  and  countrey  please, 
But  such  a  brunt  the  valiant  will  abide. 
And  bende  their  force  to  worke  their  countreye*s  ease : 
They  thinke  no  trauayle  loste,  by  land,  or  Seas, 

But  venture  fortune,  goods,  life,  landes  and  heale, 

To  fight  it  out  for  Prince  and  publique  weale, 

8. 
You  that  haue  heard  or  read  the  worthie  factes 
Of  Nennius  here,  (though'^  rudely  pende  by  mee) 
Learne  so  to  fight,  let  so  your'  noble  actes 
By  those  that  after  come,  recounted  bee  : 
1  may  full  well  reioyce  he  spake  to  mee, 

For  if  I  had  not  stayde  <o  heare  him  then, 

1  thinke  he  scarce  had  come  to  speake  agen/ 

7  Which  graunted,  al  they  vanislit.  ed,  1575. 

*  On  this  in  traunce  I  lay  me  thought  a  while 
And  musde  reioysing.  ib. 

'  Knight,  ib. 

*  Piayne.  ib. 

^  Whose  vertues  so  did  passe,  ib.  *  As.  ib. 

^  Deseruede.  ib.  *  So.  ib. 

^  And  let  your.  ib. 

*  The  remainder  of  "  the  Authour^  from  the  first  edition.  .;./•■• 

But  let  me  nowo  retourne  againe  to  tell, 

What  after  this,  me  chaunst  to  see  and  heare.-  > 

R  2 


2il  Lord  Nennius, 

But  iK'xt  me  thought  appeared  plaine  in  sight 
A  noble  Lorde,  which  once  had  lost  his  head, 
Of  person  tall,  well  set,  a  comely  wight. 


I  trust  yee  Readers  like  my  dealing  well, 
In  promise  thnt  I  made,  this  later  yeare. 
For  sure  I  thiijke,  a  man  farre  better  were 
Not  speaks  at  all,  to  promese  hilles  of  gold, 
And  in  performance,  waxe  as  key  full  colde. 
I  saide  (if  God  sent  time,  and  space  therfore) 
Ye  should  receaue  from  mee  (as  leysure  came) 
Of  these  my  simple  toyles,  a  greater  store. 
And  partly  you  perceaue,  how  I  perfornie  the  same. 
Such  workes,  as  this  my  simple  muse  can  frame, 
(With  all  my  harte  and  minde)  you  freely  baue  : 
As  fiee,  as  God  these  giftes  me  frely  gaue. 
Wherefore  giue  eare,  now  harken  well  to  this  : 
As  to  these  tunes,  I  gaue  me  thought  some  heede. 
In  double  if  sences  led  my  raynde  amisse, 
Or  whether  ««'6of  me  with  toyes  did  feede. 
What  doth  (said  Morpheus)  now  this  musing  nede  ? 
Art  thou  so  farre  orewatcht,  thy  wittes  the  fayle  ? 
'Or  els  do  fancies  more  then  wit  preuayle  ? 
Not  so  (quoth  I)  though  far  the  night  be  past, 
And  yet  me  ihinkes,  I  could  be  well  content 
To  leaue  them  so  (if  this  were  now  the  last) 
So  thou  therto  and  Sumnus  sweete  consent : 
This  noble  Nennius  well  the  time  hath  spent. 
I  would  haue  staide,  if  he  had  spoken  more : 
Twashis  departure,  troubled  me  so  sore. 
(Quoth  he)  thou  must  a  whyle  yet  longer  byde : 
In  fewe  he  shall  declare,  how  he  hath  specf 
That  coromes.     And  euen  with  that  I  lookt  aside, 
And  sawe  a  coarse  approache  without  ahead. 
What  now  (quoth  I)  though  erste  (by  thee)  the  dead 
Were  causde  to  speake,  declaring  all  their  will, 
Yet  speach  of  headlesse  men  doth  passe  my  skill. 
With  that  gan  Morpheus  touch  him  with  liis  mace. 
And  sodainiy  an  head,  on  shoulders  pight. 
For  lacke  of  vse,  he  could  not  turne  his  face, 
Or  else  had  Morpheus  scarcely  set  it  right. 
He  bad  forgotten  eke,  to  turne  his  sight: 
But  still  he  stode  his  face  to  set  awrye, 
And  wappering  turnid  vp  his  white  of  eye. 


Lord  Nenniiis.  245 


Whome  proude  despite  aliue  to  slaughter  lead : 
Thus  wise  he  wilde  me  penne  how  earst  he  spead, 
Perswading  me,  perdy,  to  write  agen 
His  fall,  amongst  the  Britai/ne  noble  men. 


As  t'were  a  dead  man,  reared  vp  an  end, 
Deuoyde  of  life,  and  yet  a  feeling  had  : 
His  lippes  lay  open,  grimly  ofte  hee  grend  : 
With  hollowe  eyes,  full  oft  he  frowned  sad, 
And  bent  his  browes,  and  lookte  as  he  were  mad: 
I  sawe  not  in  my  life,  I  thinke  his  pere : 
Nor  shall  not,  if  I  line  this  hundred  yeare. 

At  length  he  tryde,  which  way  to  tell  his  myodn 
Yet  how  to  speake  his  tonge  had  quite  forgotte : 
Each  instrument  forgotten  had  his  kinde. 
That  erste  could  run  at  randon  and  by  roatc, 
But  then  nie  thought,  with  fist  his  bresthee  smot^i 
The  other  hande  his  musing  browes  did  holde: 
And  as  awakte  (at  iaste)  this  tale  he  tolde. 


246 


Howe  the  Lord  Irenglas  cosen  to  king 

Cassibellane  teas  slai/ne  bj/  the  Lord  Elitnine  cosen 

to  Androgeux  Earle  of  London,  about  the 
yeere  btfore  Christ, 

51, 

1. 

Amongst  the  rest  that  whilome  safe  aloft, 
Amongst  the  rest,  that  once  had  happie  chaunce, 
Amongst  the  rest,  that  had  good  Fortune  oft, 
Amongst  the  rest,  that  collide  themselues  aduaunce, 
Amongst  the  rest,  that  led  in  warres  the  staunce,' 

And  wanne  the  palme,  the  praysc,  renoMne,  and  fame, 

[(Yet  after  fell  in  proofe  to  trye  tlie  same)] 

Leaue  in  thy  booke  a  place  to  put  my  name. 

2. 
[Which,  HigginSf  if  thou  shalt,  and  write  therein 
This  lale  I  tell,  no  doubt  thou  shalt  me  please  ; 
Thy  selfe  likewise  thereby  maist  profit  win  ; 
For  why,  who  writes  such  histories  as  these. 
Doth  often  bring  the  Readers  hearts  such  ease, 

And^  when  they  sitte,  and  see  what  he  doth  note, 

And  lessons  learne  to  saue  his'  armour  coate, 

Well  fare  his  heart  (say  they)  this  worke  that  wrote. 

3. 
Perhaps  thou  answere  wilt  and  eke  confesse, 
They  may  in  deede  giue  thankes,  and  that  is  all : 
They  can  (saistthou)  1  thinke  giue  scarcely  lesse, 
For  such  a  gifte  a  guerdon  farre  too  small : 
Well,  yet  doe  write,  content  thy  selfe  withall, 

Thou  must  the  ende  that  God  appoyntes  abide : 

'  Daunce.  N.  *  As.  ed.  1575.  »  Tl.eir.  ib. 


Lorde  Irenglas,  247 

Though  they  ingratefull  be  of  reason  wide, 

Thou  must  not  therefore  this  thy  talent  hide. 

4. 
This  I  obiect  not  that  I  thinke  is  so, 
But  if  it  erst  haue  chaunced  so  to  hitte, 
Thou  shouldst  not  therefore  let  these  stories  go, 
Which  may  perchaunce  so  exercise  thy  witte, 
And  may  so  frame  thy  phrases  fine  and  fitte, 

Though  now  no  other  gifte  then  thankes  thou  haue : 

Yet  shall  thy  verses  liue,  tby  name  to  saue, 

And  spread  thy  pray se,  when  thou  artlayde  in  graue. 

5. 
But  sure  I  thinke  among  so  great  a  sort, 
As  shall  thy  workes  and  writinges  chaunce  to  see, 
Of  courtzy  all  thou  canst  not  finde  them  short, 
But  some  must  needes  corjsider  well  of  thee  : 
Though  some  doe  pinche  and  saue,  to  thriue  and  thie, 

And  some  doe  poUe  and  pill  to  get  the  pelfe, 

And  some  haue  layde  vp  all  on  leesing  shelfe, 

Vet  some  will  well  consider  of  thy  selfe. 

6. 
I  had  almost  stept  in  with  thee  so  farre, 
To  bid  thee  wryte  and  register  my  name, 
( Because  I  fearde  of  late  the  Romayne  warre 
Thou  wrotste,  had  ended  all  thy  former  frame, 
And  I  had  beene  excluded  from  tlie  same) 

That  now  I  feare  I  wery  thee  with  talke, 

While  from  my  purpose  farre  aloofe  1  stalke, 

In  steed  of  choyse,  for  cheese  to  giue  thee  chalke.]'* 

7. 
Wherefore  I  will  be  briefe,  and  tell  thee  all 
My  minde,  the  cause  why  I  doe  now  appeare.^ 

*  Insteede  of  cheese  to  fill  thy  chaps  with  chalke,  ed.  1575. 

'  I  will  be  briefe  and  truly  tell  thee  all 
The  cause  why  I  from  graue  do  now  appeare.  N. 


2i8  Lorde  Irenglas, 

1  Avill  recite  to  thee  my  sodayne  fall, 
And  what  in  life  mine  exercises  were : 
To  which  since  I  doe  see  thee  set  thine  eare, 
Marke  now  my  tale,  and  beare  it  well  away, 
Marke  what  mee  brought  so  sodayne  in  decays, 
[And  marke  of  lusty  life  the  vnstable  staye.] 

8. 
Let  who  so  stands  trust  to  a  stedfast  holde, 
(Yf  hce  suppose  hee  may  a  steedy  finde) 
And  then  hee  neede  not  stagger  when  hee  nolde. 
As  I  and  others  calde  agayne  to  minde : 
But  trust  not  Fortune,  shoe  is  counted  blinde,^ 
To  prayse  her  prankes  occasion  giues  no  cause  : 
Doe  wisely,  or  you  prayse  her  take  the  pause, 
[Else  may  you  prone  your  seines  at  length  but  dawcs.J 

9. 
Some  loue  to  boast  what  fortune  they  haue  had, 
Some  other  blame  misfortune  theyrs  as  fast. 
Some  tell  of  fortunes  there  bee  good  and  bad. 
Some  fooles  of  fortune  make  themselues  agast. 
Some  shewe  of  fortune  comming,  present,  past. 
And  say  there  is  ajate  that  ruleth  all : 
But  sure  it  seemes  theyr  wisdome  is  but  small, 
[To  talke  so  much  of  Lady  Fortune's  ball.] 

10. 
No  fortune  is  so  bad  our  selues  ne  frame,' 
There  is  no  chaunce  at  all  hath  vs  preseru'd. 
There  is  no  fate  whom  wee  haue  neede  to  blame, 
There  is  no  destiny  but  is  deseru'd, 

*  Let  who  80  stands  trust  to  a  etedfast  hold. 
If  stedfast  hold  he  thinke  that  he  may  find, 
Presume  not  on  thy  strenp;th,  nay  yet  be  bold 
On  Fortune's  gifts,  nay  let  her  guide  thy  mind 
In  hope  of  hap,  for  she  is  counted  blind.  N. 

'  So  bad  but  we  it  frame.  N. 


Lorde  Irenglas,  249 

No  lucke  that  leases  vs  safe  or  vnpreseru'd  : 

Let  vs  not  then  complayne  of  Fortune's  skill, 

For  all  our  good  descends  from  God's  good  will^ 

[And  of  our  lewdnes  springeth  all  our  ill.] 

11. 
If  so  a  man  might  stay  on  Fortune's  holde, 
Or  else  on  Prince,  as  piller  of  defence, 
Then  might  my  selfe  t'haue  done^  the  same  bee  bolde. 
In  euery  perill,  purpose,  or  pretence:  '^^^^  ■^' 

Cassibellane  as  much  as  any  Prince, 

Lou'd  mee  his  cosin'  Jrenglas  by  name, 

Both  for  my  feats  in  armes,  and  fauour,  fame,' 

[And  for  because  1  of  his  linage  caroe.J 

12. 
I  came  (by  parents)  of  his  regall  race, 
Linde  happy  dayes  (if  happy  mortall  bee) 
Had  (as  I  sayd)  his  fauour,  bare  the  grace, 
I  was  his  loyall  seruant*  franke  and  free,         >"*';»'n  )«(■••  j«n  » 
But  what  of  this  at  all  preuayled  mee  ? 

Yet  furthermore  the  feates  of  armes  I  knew, 

1  fought  in  field,  when  mighty  Casar  flewe, 

[And  of  the  Romai/nes  came  my  part  I  slewe.] 

13. 

Shall  1  for  this  prayse  Fortune  ought  at  all  ? 

Did  Fortune  ought  in  this  ?  no  whit  bee  sure  :* 

Or  shall  1  blame  her  after  for  ray  fall. 

That  neuer  could  mee  any  hurte  procure  ? 

T'was  glory  vayne  did  sweetely  mee  allure. 

Wherefore  giue  eare,  and  then  with  pen  disclose 

[A  tale  which  (though  but  rudely  1  dispose) 

Who  reades  and  heares  it  both,  may  pleasure  those.^] 

*  To  done.  ed.  1575.  *  Nephewe.  ib. 

'  For  feates  in  armes,  for  fauour,  and  for  fame.  N. 

*  Nephew,  ed.  1575,  3  No,  no,  be  sure,  ib. 

*  How  seeming  friends  did  prooue  my  chiefest  foes.  N. 


^^  ,  Lorde  Irenglas. 

U. 
Full  happy  were  our  Countrey  men  that  dy'd, 
And^  noble  Nennius,  in  the  field  wee^  fought : 
When  first  both  Britaynes^  and  the  Bomaynes  tryd 
With  dint  of  sword,  if  titles  theyrs  were  ought : 
They  dyed  in  theyr  defence,  no  pompe  they  sought, 
They  liuM  to  see  their  Countrey  conquere  still. 
They  dy'd  before  they  felt  of  priuate  ill, 
[And  bare  eache  other  all  their  lines,  good  will.] 

15. 
When  CcRsar  so  with  shamefull  flight  recoyl'd, 
And  left  our  Britayne  land  vnconquer'd  first. 
Which  only  thought  our  Realnie  and  vs  t'haue  spoy  I'd, 
Wee  came  to  see  (of  all  our  field  the  worst) 
Our  souldiers  slayne.     O  cruell  Cassar  curst 
(Quoth  wee)  should  all  these  giltlesse  Britaynes  die' 
[For  thine  ambition  ?  fie,  O  CcBsar,  fie,] 
That  durst  not*  byde  but  like  a  dastard  file. 

16. 
But  then  to  see  them  in  aray  to  lie. 
And  for  to  see  them  wounded  all  before, 
Not  one  but  in  his  place  his  life  did  trye. 
To  see  the  Romaynes  bloudy  backes  that  bore 
In  field,  flight,  dead,  and  scattered^  on  the  shore, 

What  thousand  tongues  (thinke  you)  could  tell  our  ioy !' 
This  made  our  hartes  reuiue,  this  pleas'd  our  /?qy,* 
[And  wee  lesse  fearde  our  enemies  all  annoy.] 

17. 
With  trompets  mourning  tune,  and  wayling  cries. 
And  drummes,  and  fiuits,  and  shawmes,  wee  sound  adieu, 

'  As.N.  «  That.  N. 

^  Quoth  we,  by  thee  did  all  these  Britaines  die.  N. 

*  Yet  darst  not.  ed.  1575. 

*  Their  wounds  in  flight  all  scattered.  N. 
Tongaes  ioy  to  light  could  bring.  N. 


OOE 


g«es ioy  t 
king.  N. 


Lorde  Irenglas.  351 

And  for  our  friends  wee  watred  all  our  [weeping]  eyes, 

As  loth  to  leese  the  liues  of  such  a  [noble]  crew : 

To  th'earth  wee  bare  them  all  in  order  dew, 
According  vnto  each  man's  noble  name. 
And  as  their  byrth  requirde  and  worthy  fame, 
[Euen  so  to  honour  them,  with  herce  wee  came.] 

18. 
Of  noble  triumphes  after  was  no  spare, 
Wee  Britat/nts  erst  were  neuer  halfe  so  glad, 
That  so  wee. made  the  Romat/nes  hence  to  fare, 
No  tongue  can  tell  the  harty  ioyes  wee  had  : 
Wee  were  therewith  so  niyrry  mooded  mad,* 

Our  fingers  tickled  still,  which  came  from  fight. 

Wee  had  before  our  eyes  our  enmyes  flight,* 

[And  nought  was  seemely  then  but  warlike  might.  ]^ 

19. 
So  fares  it  when  the  meaner  giue  the  spoyle, 
And  make  the  mighty  all  theyr  force  reuoke : 
So  fares  it  when  great  victours  feele  the  foyle, 
And  meaner  sorts  of  count  doe  giue  the  stroke,^ 
That  pearceth  euen  the  hardest  harte  of  oke, 

For  where  the  weaker  win  the  wage  of  fame, 
'^    [And  stronger  leese  their  wonted  noble  name,] 

The  victours  harts  a  thousand  ioyes  enflame. 

20. 
A  lusting  then  proclaymed  was  for  those, 
That  turneis^  would  approatch  themselues  trye. 
Amongst  vs  Britaj/nes  (not  agaynst  our  foes) 
Tweene  th'Earle  of  London's  cosin  stout  and  I : 
And  both  the  partes  wee  both  could  make,  perdy, 

To  wiiine  the  price,  the  prayse,  the  pompe  consent, 

*  Therewith  for  battaile  bent  as  raad.  N. 

*  Our  foes  foule  flijht.  N. 

*  Seernrly  there  but  swonlesin  sight,  ed.  1575. 

^  And  men  lesse  deem'd  do  giue  the  conquering  stroke.  N. 

*  (And  turneys.)  ed.  1575. 


^52  Lorde  Irenglas. 

And  eke  the  fame  of  former  warres  wee  ment. 
But  foolish  was  the  end  of  our  intent.^ 

2h 

For  why,  when  glory  vayne  stirres  men  to  strife, 

When  hope  of  prayse  prouokcs  them  once  to  ire, 

Then  they  at  all  regard  no  goods  nor  life. 

From  faithfuU  frendship  rudely  they  retire. 

They  are  so  set  with  glorie's  gloze  on  fire, 
That  quite  they  rule  and  reason  wrest  awrye. 
They  turne  away  their  friendly  fuwting  eye,' 
[And  others  eache,  as  fixed  foes  defie.] 

22. 

O  God  that  workest  all  the  wonders  wrought, 

(And  hast  the  powre  to  turne  the  hartes  aliue) 

Graunt  grace  to  those  that  labour  so  for  nought 

But  flitting  fame,  and  titles  hauty  striue : 

Let  not  ambition  so  the  Earth  depriue 

Of  worthy  wightes,  giue  them  some  better  grace, 
That  they  may  run  for  Countrye's  weale  their  race, 
[And  notthSir  bloud  with  braynsicke  brawles  debace.] 

23. 

Let  them  not  breake  the  bond  of  frendly  loue 

In  broyles  of  bate,  but  frendly  faults  redresse, 

Let  not  them  so  their  manhood  seeke  to  proue 

By  priuate  hate,  to  worke  their  owne  distresse. 

So  shall  they  neede  their  enemies  feare'  the  les«e : 
I^rdy,  foule  forayne*  foes  themselues  they  make, 

j4~^j  stanza  thus  altered  by  Niccols, 

A  solemne  iusts  proclaimed  was  for  thoae. 
Who  would  to  win  renowne  their  valour  trie, 
Where  th'earle  of  London's  cosin  did  expose 
Himsclfe  to  purchase  praise,  against  whom  I 
To  win  the  prize  did  all  my  powers  applie : 
But  fatall  was  the  scope  I  did  intend, 
Th'effects  bewray'd  my  folly  in  the  end. 
*  Fawtins  eye.  ed.  1675.  t.  e.  favouring  eye.  Their  former  fiiendly  eie,  N. 
*'  Tbeir  foes  to  feare.  N<  ^  Friends  worse  then  forren.  N. 


Lorde  Irenglas,  253 

That  in  their  Countrye,  for  vayne  quarells  sake,^ 

[Doe  dare  in  hand  reuenging  weapons  take.] 

24. 
But  what  neede  I  on  those  aliue  to  stay, 
They  haue  examples  good  before  their  eyes, 
By  which  (if  they  haue  grace)  beware  they  may, 
The  happiest  men  by  others  hannes  are  wise  : 
Let  them  not  then  our  warning  wordes  despise, 

Doe  will  Ihem  wisely  of  these  thinges  debate, 

For  why,  the  foolishe  aye  the*  warning  hate, 

[Are  neuer  wise,  or,  had  I  wist,  to  late.]^ 

25. 

[Perhaps  thou  thinkste  to  long  a  time  1  stay. 

And  from  that  1  proposed  erst  digresse. 

Because  that  here  (as  it  were  by  the  way) 

For  warning's  sake,  my  conscience  I  professe  : 

Yet  for  my  breache  of  compasse  blame  race  lesse, 
In  talke,  sith  that  thou  come  to  heare  mee  art. 
Which  seerac  (as  wocmen  vse)  to  reme  my  hart. 
Before  I  come  to  open  all  my  smart.] 

Wee  spent  the  day  in  lusting  (as  I  sayd,) 

Appoynted  erst  among  our  selues  before. 

And  all  the  feates  of  armes  in  fielde  wee  playd, 

JEneas  taught  our  auncestours  of  yore. 

What  neede  1  fill  thine  eares  with  talking  more, 
My  men  and  I  had  put  those  feates  in  vre, 
And  hee  likewise  (but  nothing  yet  so  sure,) 
[Which  did,  at  length,  my  haplesse  end  procure.] 

S7. 

For  as  with  fortune  still  I  gaue  the  foyle. 

To  him  that  thought  the  glory  all  to  haue, 

^  That  fall  at  oddes  for  fond  T-aine  glorie's  sake.  N. 

♦  That.  ed.  1575,  '  Wise  before  it  be  to  late.  ed.  1575. 


254  Lorde  Irenglas. 

When  hee  perceau'd  hee  coulde  not  keepe  the  coyle, 
Nor  yet  with  equall  match  hiraselfe  to  saue, 
Occasion  of  dissention  great  hee  gaue : 
In  stead  of  iest  hee  offred  earnest  play, " 
In  lieu  of  sport  hee  spite  did  stilP  display, 
£In  stead  of  myrth,  both  malice  and  decay.3 

28. 
The  traytour  vile,  the  tyraunt(so  hee  prou'd) 
With  coward,  canker'd,  hatefull,  hasty  ire, 
And  caytife dealing,  shewde  how  mee  hee'  lou*d, 
When  as  hee  could  not  to  his  hope  aspire. 
To  winne  the  prayse  of  triumph,  his  desire, 
Hee  chalengde  mee,  and  here  began  the  broyle, 
He  thought  with  banding  braue  to  keepe  the  coyle, 
[Or  else  with  flatts  and  facings  mee  to  foyle.] 

29. 
And  that  because  the^  iudgment  fauourde  mee, 
[Perdy,]  report  almost  of  all  the  route,' 
Ran  still  that  I  was  worthy  praysde  to  bee. 
And  often  times  they  gaue  mee  all  a  ^oute  : 
This  made  mine  enmies  stare'  and  looke  aboute, 
And  often  wish  them  euill  aloude  that  cryde, 
Such  is  the  nature  still  of  naughty  pryde, 
[Can  nothing  worse*  then  ethers  prayse  abyde.] 

SO. 
Wee  twayne  (quoth  hee)  betwene  our  selues  will  try 
Alone  our  manhoods  both,  if  thou  consent : 
Wee  ought  not  breake  the  Prince  bis  peace,  quoth  I, 
His  grace  would  not  therewith  bee  welP  content. 
And  sith  no  hurt  was  here  nor  malice  ment, 
You  ought  not  so  on  choller  take  it  ill, 


^  Did  foule  display,  ed.  1575.  '  He  me.  ib.  *  Ifens.  N. 

9  The  common  rout.  N.  >  Made  my  foes  to  stare.  N. 

^  Nothing  lesse.  ed.  1575.  ^  Not  be  well  tberwilb.  ib. 


Lorde  Irenglas,  255 

Though  I  to  win  the  price  put  forth  ray  skill, 

[But  for  my  Knighthoode  bearc*  race  more  good  will.] 

31.' 
With  that  quoth  Elenine  (for  so  hee  hight,) 
That  was  the  Earle  his  cosin,  then^  my  foe,  • 

1  raeane  (quoth  hee)  io  try  the  case  in  figlit. 
Before  thou  passe  againe  ray  presence  froe,' 
And  euen  with  that  hee  raught  to  race'  a  bloe : 

My  friends  nor  I  could^  not  this  wrong  abide, 

Wee  drewe,'  and  so  did  those  on  th'other  side 

[That  fearcely*  fought,  and  other  each  defide.] 

*  But  rather  therfore  beare.  ed.  1575. 

'    '  Here  the  following  stanzas  occur  in  the  first  edition. 

To  which  he  aunswerd  as  despite  had  spoke, 

With  hasty  wordes  and  tauntes  of  hygher  peres. 

I  list  not  any  iote  (quoth  he)  reuoke, 

Of  that  is  sayd,  ne  darste  thoa  for  thine  eares 

(Whateuer  lookes  in  place  thy  fauters  beares) 
Alone  to  mete  me  in  the  field  tofraye. 
But  I  may  hap  (by  chaunce)  to  finde  the  day, 
Wherein  thou  shalt  noc  beare  the  price  away. 

As  for  the  king  we  doubte  if  he  be  heyre, 

The  kingdome  is  the  Earle  of  London's  right, 

And  though  that  he  the  prince  his  person  beare 

(In  his  nonage)  he  ought  not  reue  it  quyte, 

Ne  shall  he  stay  mee  if  I  mynde  to  fighte. 

Then  where  thou  speakst  (quoth  he)  of  princes  peace, 
And  wouldst  me  warne,  from  furder  dealing  seace ; 
Thou  better  were  (perhaps)  to  holde  thy  peace. 

On  which  I  playnly  sayde,  higbe  treason  tVas, 
So  much  to  speake,  against  our  soueraigne  Lorde: 
Quoth  I,  theboundes  of  modestie  you  passe, 
That  dare  your  case  with  prince  his  right  accorde ; 
Your  betters  would  far  better  wordes  auorde. 

And  you  perhaps  your  selfe  so  stoutc  that  showe 
Which. make  as  though  you  sought  his  ouerthrowe. 
Shall  shortly  more  his  grace  his  pleasure  knowe. 

*  And.  ed.  1575. 

7  Thyselfe  a  traytour  rather  semest  right. 
That  darste  presume  amongst  thy  betters  so.  ib. 

*  I  raught  to  him.  ib.  '  My  frendes  likewyse  could,  ib. 
'  They  drew.  ib.                    *  We  freshly,  ib. 


256  Lorde  Irenglas, 

32. 
But  1  was  all  the  marke  whereat  hee*  shotte, 
The  malice  still  hee*  meant  to  none  but  mee, 
At  mee  hee'  cast,  and  drewe  mee  for  the  lotte, 
Which  should  of  all  reuenge  the  ransom  bee : 
Wherefore  hee  set  them  at  mee  francke^  and  free, 
Till  mee  they  tooke,  so  compast  rounde  aboute, 
As  I  eoulde  not  scape  from  among  them  out : 
[Was  neuer  Lord'  betrayde  with  such  a  route.] 

33. 
To  make  it  short :  I  singled  was  therefore, 
£uen  as  the  Dere  to  find«  his  fatall  stroke  : 
I  could  not  scape,  in  numbre  they  were  more, 
My  pageaunt  was  in  presence  there  bespoke :' 
A  pillowe  they  prepared  mee  of  oke. 

My  hands  they  bounde,  along  ray  corps  they  led, 
From  of  my  shoulders  quite  they  stroke  my  head, 
[And  with  my  death  theyr  cruell  eyes  they  fed.] 


»  They.  ed.  1575. 

♦  Was.  ib.  *  They.  ih. 

^  Wherfore  they  layde  about  them  francke.  ib, 
'  Knight,  ib. 

*  Several  of  the  early  historians  concur  in  representing  that  this  improvident 
qiinrreil,  and  unexpected  rencouiuer,  first  enabled  Caesar  to  establish  his  landing  in 
Britain,  from  the  assistance  afterwards  given  him  by  the  Earl  of  London.  The 
following  is  one  of  thebiiefest  of  the  statements: — "  It  befell  thus  vpon  a  day 
that  the  gentylraen  of  the  kynge's  housholde  and  the  gentylraen  of  the  Erie's 
housholde  of  London  after  meet,  went  togyder  for  to  play.  And  thrugh  debate 
that  arose  yraonge  them  Enelin,  that  was  the  Erie's  cosyn  of  London,  slewe 
Irenglas  that  was  the  kynge's  cosyn.  Wherfore  the  kynge  swore  that  Enelyn 
sholde  be  hangetl.  But  the  Erie  of  London,  that  was  Enelin's  lorde,  wolde  not 
suffer  hym.  Wherfore  the  kynge  was  greatly  wroth  and  vexed  towarde  the  Erie 
and  thought  hym  to  dystroye.  And  pryuely  the  Erie  sende  letters  to  Julius 
Cezar,  that  he  sholde  come  into  this  lande  for  to  helpe  hym,  and  hym  auenge 
vpoD  the  kynge,  and  he  wolde  helpe  hym  with  al  his  myght.  And  whan  the 
emperour  herde  these  tydynges  he  was  full  glad,  and  ordeyned  a  stronge  power, 
and  came  agayne  the  thyrde  tyme  into  this  lande,  and  tlie  Erie  of  London  helped 
hym  with  viii  M.men.  And  at  the  thyrde  tyme  was  Cassybolou  ouercome  and 
dyscomfyted,  and  made  peas  to  the  Emperour  tor  thre  thousandepounde  of  syluer, 
yeldynge  by  yere  for  truage  for  this  lande  for  euermore."    Chran.  of  St.  Albans. 


Lorde  Irenglas.  251 

34. 
If  eucr  man  that  scru'd  his  Prince  with  paync, 
And  we'll  doserued  of  his  publiqiie  weal : 
If  eucr  Knight  estcemde  it  greatest  gayne, 
For  Prince  and  Countrey  in  the  warres  to  deale : 
My  sclfe  was  such,  which  venterde  life  and  heale 
At  all  assaycs,  to  sane  my  natiue  soyle, 
With  all  my  labour,  trauayle,  payne  and  toylc, 
[Both  from  the  force  of  foes  and  foraine  foyle.] 

33. 

Ycl  heere  you  see,  at  home  I  had  my  fall, 
Xot  by  my  fcarcest  foes  tiiat  came  in  warre, 
But  by  my  friend  I  gate  this  griping  thrall, 
When  folly  framde  vs  Uoth  at  home  to  iarre.  i 

Oil  that  my  Countrey  man^  should  raunge  so  farre, 
From  wisedome's  way,  to  wedde  himseife  to  will, 
From  reason's  rule,  to  wrest  his  wittes  to  ill, 
[From  friendship  fast,  his  dearest  friend  to  kill!] 
S6. 
Well,  bid  the  rest  beware  of  triumphes  such, 
Bid  them  beware  for  titles  vaine  to  striue, 
Bid  them  not  trust  such  sullayne  friends  to  much. 
Did  them  not  so  theyr  honours  high  achieue  : 
For  if  they  will  preseruc  theyr  names  aliue, 
There  is  no  better  way  to  worke  the  same 
Then  to  eschue  of  tyrany  defame : 
[Meeke  clemency  deserues  a  noble  name.]^ 

*  Oh  that  my  friend  of  yore.    N. 

9  The  edition  of  1575  finishes  with  the  life  of  Lord  Irenglas,  which  Higglns 
calls  the  first  part  in  his  concluding  lines  of 

The  Author. 
With  that  (me  thought)  he  vanisht  quite  away: 
And  I  was  come  to  end  my  worke  at  last : 
Not  minding  longer  on  the  which  to  staye. 
My  penne  did  trudge  to  wryte  these  verses  fast. 
I  trust  sith  once,  they  haue  the  Printer  past 

s 


258  Lorde  Irenglas. 

That  went  before :  these  fragmentes  come  behinde. 
Shall  of  the  Readers,  likewyse  fauour  finde. 

So  of  my  first  part  here  I  make  an  ende. 
The  Seconde  parte  which  I  haue  now  to  fyle 
Doth  call  me  hence,  from  these  to  those  to  wende : 
In  which  if  God  send  grace  to  guyde  my  style, 
I  shall  (I  trust)  and  that  in  shorter  vvhyle, 

Againe  retourne,  to  Printers  presse  with  those : 
Which  shal  likewise,  their  fight  and  falles  disclose. 

Till  then  farewell  a  thousand  times  to  thee. 
Which  takst  in  hand  this  booke  to  shun  the  ill. 
That  was  the  fall  of  these  describde  by  mee. 
And  haste  to  mende  their  faultes  a  firme  good  will, 
1  wishe  thy  health,  increase  of  vertu  still. 
Adieu  farewell,  I  haue  but  this  to  sav, 
(jod  send  vs  both  his  heauenly  grace  for  aye. 

I.  Higgins, 


''  The  little  expectation  entertained  by  the  Editors  of  tbe  British 
Bibliographer  of  the  present  abrupt  termination  of  their  work, 
cannot  be  more  convincingly  shown  tlian  by  their  having  under- 
taken the  very  complicated  and  laborious  tasl»  of  forming  a  com- 
plete edition  oHhe  Mirrour  for  Magistrates ,  which,  in  the  common 
proportionate  distribution  of  their  periodical  numbers,  could  not 
have  been  finished  in  less  than  three  years.  Their  wishes  to  have 
made  their  plan  more  perfect  are  expressed  in  another  place ;  and 
it  remains  only  to  supply  such  information  as  appears  material  as  to 
the  preceding  pages  oithe  Mirror  for  Magistrates.  In  expectation 
of  completing  a  reprint  of  all  (he  parts,  the  Editors  commenced 
"with  the  performance  of  John  Higgins,  not  with  any  preference 
as  to  merit,  but  for  the  purpose  of  arranging  the  whole  of  the  lives 
in  Chronological  order.  The  Part  first  published  was  Avritten  by 
William  Baldwin  and  his  associates,  and  published  in  1551). 
To  that  succeeded  the  publication  of  John  Higgins  in  1575,  whose 
lives  being  selected  from  earlier  periods  of  the  English  history  than 
those  in  Baldwin's  collection,  obtained  thereby  precedence  upon 
the  two  parts  being  afterwards  united. 

The  preceding  pages  terminate  with  the  life  of  Irenglass  ac- 
cording to  the  original  edition  by  Higgins ;  but  the  text  is  from 
the  edition  of  1587,  being  the  last  edited  by  him  ;  and  there  are 
now  first  added  as  well  the  variations  from  the  first  edition,  as  of 
that  printed  by  Richard  Niccols  in  16 10.  The  same  reason  that 
influences  the  termination  of  the  British  Bibliographer  will  prevent 
a  continuance  of  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates  in  octavo,  and  the 
two  works  now  form  our  fourth  and  last  volume. 


260 

Tbe  Editors  however  do  not  shrink  from  their  project,  and  a 
limited  number  of  copies  of  the  Mirror  for  3Jagistrates,hsi\ing,  0.0" 
cording  to  the  original  plan,  bten  taken  off  in  quarto,  they,  from  a 
wish  to  see  the  work  completed,  have  been  induced  to  listen  to  the 
invitation  of  persons  no  way  concerned  with  the  present  under- 
taking, to  continue  and  complete  that  impression,  which  will, 
therefore,  be  published  in  the  course  of  the  ensuing  year. 

J.  H. 

Dec,  28,  1813, 


END  OF  THB  FOURTH  AND  LAST  VOLUME. 


T.  Benitcy,  Printer, 
lolt  Court,  Fleet  Sticet,  Loadon. 


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