Skip to main content

Full text of "The complete poems of Richard Barnfield"

See other formats


■i'  /t^dj^fo  Xy 


\i:PJ991 


e    %-> 


%  v«^' 


"^^^jrgy      a 


"'P^j^^ 


'VW^^ 


'-^^     ^ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/completepoemsofrOObarnrich 


THE 


COMPLETE  POEMS 


RICH  A  RD    BARNFI  KLl) 


EDITED,  WITH  INTRODUCTION  AND  NOTES, 

BY 

THE    REV.  ALEXANDER   B.   GROSART, 

ST.  GEORGE'S,  BLACKBURN,  LAUCASHIRK. 


PRINTED  FOR  THE 


3^oj:burgI)f  Club^ 


LONDON : 
J.  B.  NICHOLS  AND  SONS,  25,  PARLIAMENT  STREET. 

MDCCCLXXVl. 


COMPLETE  POEMS  OF 

RICHARD  BARNFIEIJ). 


/ 


iao):buraJ)t  Club* 


3'->%jp: 


1^ 


MAFJQUIS  OF  LOTHIAN. 

MAUQUIS  OF   BATH. 

KARL  OF  CARNARVON. 

KARL  OF  POWIS,   V.P. 

EARL  BEAUCHAMP. 

KARL  OF  CAWnOR. 

LORD  HOUGHTON. 

LORD  ORMATHWAITE. 

LORD  COLERIDGE. 

SIR  KDWARD  HULSE,  BART. 

SIR  WILLIAM  STIRLING  MAXWELL,   BART. 

HENRY   BRADSHAW,   K.SQ. 

HKNUY   ARTHUR   BRIGHT,  ESQ. 

REV.   WILLIAM    EDWARD   BUCKLEY. 

PAUL   BUTLER,  KSQ. 

REV,   WILLIAM  GEORGE  CLARK 

REV.  HENRY  OCTAVIUS  COXE. 

FRANCIS  HENRY   DICKINSON,  ESQ. 

GEORGE  BRISCOE   EYRE,  ESQ. 


PRRSIDKNT. 

THOMAS  GAISFORD,  ESQ. 

HENRY  HUCKS  GIBBS,  ESQ.  », 

ALBAN  GEORGE  HENRV  GIBBS,  ESQ. 

GRANVILLE  LEVESON  GOWER,  ESQ. 

RALPH  NEVILLE  GRENVILLE,  ESQ.  Trtiuurtr. 

JOHN  BENJAMIN   HEATH,  ESQ. 

KIRKMAN  DANIEL  HODGSON,  ESQ. 

HOBKRT  STAVNKK   HOLKOkD.   F.SQ 

ALEX.  JAMES  BERESFORD  HOPE,  K8Q. 

HENRY  HUTH,  ESQ. 

JOHN  COLE  NICHOLL,  ESQ. 

EVELYN  PHILIP  SHIRLEY,  ESQ.  ^ 

EDWARD  JAMES  STANLEY,  ESQ. 

SIMON   WATSON  TAYLOR,  ESQ. 

GEORGE  TOMLINE.  ESQ, 

CHARLES  TOWNKLEY.  ESQ. 

REV.  EDWARD  TINDAL  TURNER. 

VICTOR  WILLIAM  BATES  VAN   DK  WKVKK.  hUSQ. 


Ml 

M705f;90 


'm. 


<  « 


fk 


^\ 


il>r 


Eo;:&urst)e  Cluft-   /^ 


1812.     PRESIDENT. 
1.  GEORGE  JOHN,  EARL  SPENCER. 


1812. 
1812. 

1812. 


1812. 


1812. 


1812. 

7. 

1812. 

8. 

1812. 

9. 

1812. 

10. 

1812. 

11. 

1812. 

12. 

1812. 

13. 

1812. 

14 

1812. 

15. 

WILLIAM  SPENCER,  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE. 

GEORGE  SPENCER  CHURCHILL,  MARQUIS  OF  BLANDFORD. 

1817.     DUKE  OF  MARLBOROUGH. 
GEORGE  GRANVILLE  LEVESON  GOWER,  EARL  GOWER. 

1833.     MARQUIS  OF  STAFFORD. 

1833.  DUKE  OF  SUTHERLAND. 
GEORGE  HOWARD,  VISCOUNT  MORPETH. 

1825.     EARL  OF  CARLISLE. 
JOHN  CHARLES  SPENCER,  VISCOUNT  ALTHORP. 

1834.  EARL  SPENCER. 

SIR  MARK  MASTERMAN  SYKHS,  BART. 
SIR  SAMUEL  EGERTON  BRYDGES,  BART. 
WILLIAM  BENTHAM,  ESQ. 
WILLIAM  BOLLAND,  ESQ. 

1829.     SIR  WILLIAM  BOLLAND.  KNT. 
JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

REV.  WILLIAM  HOLWELL  CARR.  * 

JOHN  DENT.  ESQ. 
REV.  THOMAS  FROGNALL  DIUDIN. 
KKV.  HENRY  DRURY. 


1812.         16.     FRANCIS  FREELING,  ESQ. 

1828.     SIR  FRANCIS  FREELING,  BART. 
1812.         17.     GEORGE  HENRY  FREELING,  ESQ, 

1836.     SIR  GEORGE  HENRY  FREELING,   BART. 

JOSEPH  HASLEWOOD,  ESQ. 

RICHARD  HEBER.  ESQ. 

REV.  THOMAS  CUTHBERT  HEBER. 

GEORGE  ISTED,   ESQ. 

ROBERT  LANG,  ESQ. 

JOSEPH  LITTLEDALE,  ESQ. 

1824.     SIR  JOSEPH  LITTLEDALE,  KNT. 

JAMES  HEYWOOD  MARKLAND,  ESQ. 

JOHN  DELAFIELD  PHELPS,  ESQ. 

THOMAS  PONTON,  ESQ. 

PEREGRINE  TOWNELEY,  ESQ. 

EDWARD  VERNON  UTTERSON,  ESQ. 

ROGER  WILBRAHAM,  ESQ. 

REV.  JAMES  WILLIAM  DODD. 

EDWARD  LITTLEDALE,  ESQ. 


1812. 

18. 

1812. 

19. 

1812. 

20. 

1812. 

21. 

1812. 

22. 

1812. 

23. 

1812. 

24. 

1812. 

25. 

1812. 

26. 

1812. 

27. 

1812. 

28. 

1812. 

29. 

1812. 

30. 

1812. 

31. 

1816. 

32. 

1819. 

33. 

1822. 

34. 

1822. 

35. 

1822. 

36. 

1823. 

37. 

1827. 

38. 

1828. 

39. 

1830. 

40. 

1831. 

41. 

1834. 

42. 

1834. 

43. 

1834. 

44. 

GEORGE  HIBBERT,  ESQ. 
SIR  ALEXANDER  BOSWELL,  BART. 
GEORGE  WATSON  TAYLOR.  ESQ. 
JOHN  ARTHUR  LLOYD,  ESQ. 
VENERABLE  ARCHDEACON  WRANGHAM. 
THE  AUTHOR  OF  WAVERLEY. 

1827.     SIR  WALTER  SCOTT,  BART. 
HON.  AND  REV.  GEORGE  NEVILLE  GRENVILLE. 

1846.     DEAN  OF  WINDSOR. 
EDWARD  HERBERT,  VISCOUNT  CLIVE. 

1839.     EARL  OP  POWIS. 
40.     JOHN  FREDERICK,  EARL  OF   CAWDOR. 
REV.  EDWARD  CRAVEN  HAWTREY,  D.D. 
SIR  STEPHEN  RICHARD  GLYNNE,  BART. 
BENJAMIN  BARNARD,  ESQ. 
VENERABLE  ARCHDEACON  BUTLER,  D.D. 

1836.     SAMUEL,  LORD  BISHOP  OF  LICHFIELD. 


1835.     PRESIDENT. 

EDWARD  HERBERT,  VISCOUNT  CLIVE. 

1839.     EARL  OF  POWIS. 


1835.  45.     WALTER  FRANCIS,  DUKE  OF  BUCCLEUCH  AND  QUEENSBERRY. 

1836.  46,     RIGHT  HONOURABLE  LORD  FRANCIS  EGERTON. 

1846.  EARL  OF  ELLESMERE. 

1836.         47.     ARCHIBALD  ACHESON,  VISCOUNT  ACHESON. 
1849.     EARL  OF  GOSFORD. 
BERIAH  BOTFIELD,  ESQ. 
HENRY  HALLAM,  ESQ, 
PHILIP  HENRY  STANHOPE,  VISCOUNT  MAHON. 

1855.  EARL  STANHOPE, 
GEORGE  JOHN,  LORD  VERNON. 
REV,  PHILIP  BLISS,  D.C.L. 
RIGHT  HONOURABLE  SIR  JAMES  PARKE,  KNT. 

1856.  LORD  WENSLEYDALE. 
REV.  BULKELEY  BANDINEL,  D.D. 
WILLIAM  HENRY  MILLER,  ESQ. 
EVELYN  PHILIP  SHIRLEY,  ESQ. 
EDWARD  JAMES  HERBERT,  VISCOUNT  CLIVE. 

1848.     EARL  OP  POWIS.  , 

1841,         58.     DAVID  DUNDAS,  ESQ, 

1847.  SIR  DAVID  DUNDAS,  KNT. 
JOHN  EARL  BROWNLOW. 
HONOURABLE  HUGH  CHOLMONDELEY, 

1855.     LORD  DELAMERE, 
SIR  ROBERT  HARRY  INGLIS,  BART. 
ALEXANDER  JAMES  BERESFORD  HOPE,  ESQ. 
REV.  HENRY  WELLESLEY. 
ANDREW  RUTHERFURD,  ESQ, 

1851.     LORD  RUTHERFURD, 
HON.  ROBERT  CURZON,  J  UN. 
GEORGE  TOMLINE,  ESQ, 
WILLIAM  STIRLING,  ESQ, 

1866.     SIR  WILLIAM  STIRLING  MAXWELL,  BART. 
1847,        68.     FRANCIS  HENRY  DICKINSON,  ESQ. 


1836. 

48. 

1836, 

49. 

1837. 

60. 

1838. 

51. 

1838. 

52. 

1839. 

63. 

1839. 

54, 

1839. 

65. 

1839. 

66. 

1840. 

57. 

1842. 

69, 

1842, 

60, 

1844. 

61. 

1844, 

62. 

1844, 

63. 

1845. 

64. 

1846. 

65. 

1846. 

66. 

1846, 

67. 

1848.     PRESIDENT. 
WALTER  FRANCIS,  DUKE  OF  BUCCLEUCH  AND  QUEENSBERRY,  K.G. 


NATHANIEL  BLAND,  ESQ. 

REV.  WILLIAM  EDWARD  BUCKLEY. 

REV.  JOHN  STUART  HIPPISLEY  HORNER, 

HIS  EXCELLENCY  MONSIEUR  VAN  DE  WEYER. 

MELVILLE  PORTAL,  ESQ. 

ROBERT  STAYNER  HOLFORD,  ESQ. 

PAUL  BUTLER,  ESQ. 

EDWARD  HULSE,  ESQ. 

1855.     SIR  EDWARD  HULSE,  BART. 
CHARLES  TOWNELEY,  ESQ. 

WILLIAM  ALEX.  ANTH.  ARCH.  DUKE  OF  HAMILTON  AND  BRANDON. 
HENRY  HOWARD  MOLYNEUX,  EARL  OF  CARNARVON. 
SIR  JOHN  BENN  WALSH,  BART. 

1868.     LORD  ORMATHWAITE. 
ADRIAN  JOHN  HOPE,  ESQ. 
RALPH  NEVILLE  GRENVILLE,  ESQ. 
SIR  JOHN  SIMEON,  BART. 
SIR  JAMES  SHAW  WILLES,  KNT. 

GEORGE  GRANVILLE  FRANCIS,  EARL  OF  ELLESMERE. 
WILLIAM  SCHOMBERG  ROBERT,  MARQUIS  OF  LOTHIAN. 
FREDERICK  TEMPLE,  LORD  DUFFERIN. 

1872,     EARL  OF  DUFFERIN. 
1858,         88.     SIMON  WATSON  TAYLOR,  ESQ. 
89.     THOMAS  GAISFORD,  ESQ. 

JOHN  FREDERICK  VAUGHAN,  EARL  CAWDOR. 

GRANVILLE  LEVESON  GOWER,  ESQ. 

HENRY  HUCKS  GIBBS,  ESQ. 

RICHARD  MONCKTON,  LORD  HOUGHTON. 

CHRISTOPHER  SYKES,  ESQ. 

REV.  HENRY  OCTAVIUS  COXE. 

REV.  WILLIAM  GEORGE  CLARK. 

REV.  CHARLES  HENRY  HARTSHORNE. 

JOHN  COLE  NICHOLL,  ESQ. 

GEORGE  BRISCOE  EYRE,  ESQ. 

JOHN  BENJAMIN  HEATH,  ESQ. 

HENRY  HUTH,  ESQ. 

HENRY  BRADSHAW,  ESQ. 

FREDERICK,  EARL  BEAUCHAMP. 

KIRKMAN  DANIEL  HODGSON,  ESQ. 

CHARLES  WYNNE  FINCH,  ESQ. 


1848. 

69. 

1848. 

70. 

1849. 

71. 

1849. 

72. 

1849. 

73. 

1851. 

74. 

76. 

76. 

1853. 

77. 

1854. 

78. 

79. 

1855. 

80. 

81. 

82. 

1856. 

83. 

84. 

1857. 

85. 

86. 

87. 

1861. 

90. 

1863. 

91. 

92. 

1864. 

93. 

94. 

95. 

96. 

97. 

98. 

99. 

100. 

1866. 

lOL 

102. 

1867. 

103. 

104. 

1868. 

105. 

1870. 

106. 

107. 

1871. 

108. 

1872. 

109. 

1876. 

110. 

111. 

112. 

113. 

114. 

HENRY  SALUSBURY  MILMAN,  ESQ. 

EDWARD  JAMES  STANLEY,  ESQ 

REV.  EDWARD  TINDAL  TURNER. 

SCHOMBERG  HENRY,  MARQUIS  OF  LOTHIAN. 

JOHN  ALEXANDER,  MARQUIS  OF  BATH. 

JOHN  DUKE,  LORD  COLERIDGE. 

VICTOR  WILLIAM  BATES  VAN  DE  WEYER,  ESQ. 

HENRY  ARTHUR  BRIGHT,  ESQ. 

ALBAN  GEORGE  HENRY  GIBBS,  ESQ. 


■^• 


> 
it/ 


Eojriurgl^e  Clufi. 


CATALOGUE  OF  THE  BOOKS 

PRESENTED  TO 

AND  PRINTED  BY  THE  CLUB. 
LONDON : 

HOCCCLXXI. 


CATALOGUE. 


Certaine  Bokes  of  Virgiles  Aenaeis,  turned  into  English  Meter. 
By  the  Right  Honorable  Lorde,  Henry  Earle  of  Surrey. 

William  Bolland,  Esq.    1814. 
Caltha  Poetarum  ;  or,  The  Bumble  Bee.     By  T.  Cutwode,  Esq. 

BicHARD  Heber,  Esq.     1815. 
The   Three   First   Books    of  Ovid    de  Tristibus,  Translated  into 
English.     By  Thomas  Chtjrchyarde. 

Earl  Spencer,  President.    1816. 
Poems.     By  Bichard  Barnfield. 

James  Boswell,  Esq.     1816. 
Dolarney's  Primerose  or  the  Eirst  part  of  the  Passionate  Hermit. 

Sir  Erancis  Preeling,  Bart.    1816. 
La  Contenance  de  la  Table. 

George  Henry  Freeling,  Esq.    1816. 
Newes  from  Scotland,  declaring  the  Damnable  life  of  Doctor  Fian, 
a  notable  Sorcerer,  who  was  burned  at  Edenbrough  in  lanuarie 
last  1691. 

George  Henry  Freeling,  Esq.    1816. 
A  proper  new  Interlude  of  the  World  and  the  Child,  otherwise 
called  Mundus  et  Infans. 

Viscount  Altiiorp.    1817. 
Hagthorpe  Revived ;  or  Select  Specimens  of  a  Forgotten  Poet. 

Sir  Samuel  Egerton  Brydges,  Bart.    1817. 


4 

Istoria  novellamente  ritrovata  di  due  nobili  Amanti,  &c.  da  Luigi 
Porto. 

Eev.  William  Holwell  Care.     1817. 
The  Funeralles  of  King  Edward  the  Sixt. 

Eev.  James  William  Dodd.    1817. 

A  Eoxburghe  Garland,  12mo. 

James  Boswell,  Esq.    1817. 

Cock  Lorell's  Boat,  a  Eragment  from  the  original  in  the  British 
Museum. 

Eev.  Henry  Drury.     1817. 
Le  Livre  du  Eaucon. 

Egbert  Lang,  Esq.     1817. 
The  Glutton's  Eeaver.    By  Thomas  Bancroft. 

John  Delafield  Phelps,  Esq.    1817- 
The  Chorle  and  the  Birde. 

Sir  Mark  Masterman  Sykes,  Bart.     1818. 
Daiphantus,  or  the  Passions  of  Love.     By  Antony  Scoloker. 

EOGER  WiLBRAHAM,  EsQ.      1818. 

The  Complaint  of  a  Lover's  Life. 
Controversy  between  a  Lover  and  a  Jay. 

Eev.  Thomas  Erognall  Dibdin,  Vice  President.    1818. 

Balades  and  other  Poems.  By  John  Gower.  Printed  from  the 
original  Manuscript  in  the  Library  of  the  Marquis  of  Stafford, 
at  Trentham. 

Earl  Gower.     1818. 

Diana;  or  the  excellent  conceitful  Sonnets  of  H.  C,  supposed  to 
have  been  printed  either  in  1592  or  1594. 

Edward  Littledale,  Esq.     1818. 

Chester  Mysteries.     De  Deluvio  Noe.     De  Occisione  Innocentium. 

James  Heywood  Markland,  Esq.    1818. 


Ceremonial  at  the  Marriage  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scotts  with  the 
Dauphin  of  Prance. 

William  Bentham,  Esq.     1818. 

The  Solempnities  and  Triumphes  doon  and  made  at  the  Spousells 
and  Marriage  of  the  King's  Daughter  the  Ladye  Marye  to  the 
Prynce  of  Castile,  Archduke  of  Austrige. 

John  Dent,  Esq.    1818. 

The  Life  of  St.  Ursula. 
Guiscard  and  Sigismund. 

Duke  of  Devonshire.    1818. 

Le  Morte  Arthur.     The  Adventures  of  Sir  Launcelot  Du  Lake. 

Thomas  Ponton,  Esq.     1819. 

Six  Bookes  of  Metamorphoseos  in  whyche  ben  conteyned  the  Fables 
of  Ovyde.  Translated  out  of  Prensshe  into  Englysshe  by 
William  Caxton.  Printed  from  a  Manuscript  in  the  Library 
of  Mr.  Secretary  Pepys,  in  the  College  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen, 
in  the  University  of  Cambridge. 

George  Hibbert,  Esq.    1819. 

Cheuelere  Assigne. 

Edward  Vernon  Utterson,  Esq.    1820. 

Two  Interludes  :  Jack  Jugler  and  Thersytes. 

Joseph  Haslewood,  Esq.    1820. 

The  New  Notborune  Mayd.     The  Boke  of  Mayd  Emlyn. 

George  Isted,  Esq.     1820. 

The  Book  of  Life  ;  a  Bibliographical  Melody. 

Dedicated  to  the  Roxburghe  Club  by  Richard  Thomson. 

8vo.     1820. 
Magnyfycence  :  an  Interlude.     By  John  Skelton,  Poet  Lauroat  to 
Henry  VIII. 

Joseph  Littledale,  Esq.    1821. 


6 

Judicium,  a  Pageant.  Extracted  from  the  Towneley  Manuscript  of 
Ancient  Mysteries. 

Peregrine  Edward  Towneley,  Esq.    1822. 
An  Elegiacal  Poem,  on  the  Death  of  Thomas  Lord  Grey,  of  Wilton. 
By  Robert  Marston.     Prom  a  Manuscript  in  the  Library  of 
The  Right  Honourable  Thomas  Grenville. 

ViscoTJNT  Morpeth.     1822. 
Selections  from  the  Works  of  Thomas  Ravenscroet  ;   a  Musical 
Composer  of  the  time  of  King  James  the  Pirst. 

Duke  oe  Marlborough.    1822. 

L^Lii  Peregrini  Oratio  in  Obitum  Torquati  Tassi.  Editio 
secunda. 

Sir  Samuel  Egerton  Brtdges,  Bart.     1822. 

The  Hors,  the  Shepe,  and  the  Ghoos. 

Sir  Mark  Masterman  Stkes,  Bart.     1822. 
The  Metrical  Life  of  Saint  Robert  of  Knaresborough. 

Rev.  Henry  Drury.    1824. 

Informacon  for  Pylgrymes  unto  the  Holy  Londe.  Prom  a  rare 
Tract  in  the  Library  of  the  Paculty  of  Advocates,  Edinburgh. 

George  Henry  Preeling,  Esq.    1824. 

The  Cuck-Queanes  and  Cuckolds  Errants  or  the  Bearing  Down  the 
Inne,  a  Comaedie.     The  Paery  Pastorall  or  Porrest  of  Elues. 

By  W P ,  Esq. 

John  Arthur  Lloyd,  Esq.     1824. 

The  Garden  Plot,  an  Allegorical  Poem,  inscribed  to  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. By  Henry  Goldingham.  Prom  an  unpublished  Manu- 
script of  the  Harleian  Collection  in  the  British  Museum.  To 
which  are  added  some  account  of  the  Author ;  also  a  reprint  of 
his  Masques  performed  before  the  Queen  at  Norwich  on 
Thursday,  August  21, 1578. 

Venerable  Archdeacon  Wrangham.    1825. 


La  Rotta  de  Francciosi  a  Terroana  novamente  facta. 
La  Rotta  de  Scocesi. 

Earl  Spencer,  President.    1825. 
Nouvelle  Edition  d'un  Poeme  sur  la  Joum6e  de  Guinegate. 

Presented  by  the  Marquis  de  Portia.    1825. 

Zul^ima,  par  C.  Pichler.     12mo. 

Presented  by  H.  de  Chateaugiron.     1825. 

Poems,  written  in  English,  by  Charles  Duke  of  Orleans,  during 
his  Captivity  in  England  after  the  Battle  of  Azincourt. 

George  Watson  Taylor,  Esq.    1827. 

Proceedings  in  the  Court  Martial  held  upon  John,  Master  of 
Sinclair,  Captain-Lieutenant  in  Preston's  Regiment,  for  the 
Murder  of  Ensign  Schaw  of  the  same  Regiment,  and  Captain 
Schaw,  of  the  Royals,  17  October,  1708 ;  with  Correspondence 
respecting  that  Transaction. 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  Bart.    1828. 

The  Ancient  English  Romance  of  Havelok  the  Dane ;  accompanied 
by  the  Erench  Text :  with  an  Introduction,  Notes,  and  a 
Glossary.    By  Erederic  Madden,  Esq. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1828. 

Gaufridi  Arthurii  Monemuthensis  Archidiaconi,  postea  vero 
Episcopi  Asaphensis,  de  Vita  et  Vaticiniis  Merlini  Calidonii, 
Carmen  Heroicum. 

Hon.  and  Rev.  G.  Neville  Grenville.     1830. 

The  Ancient  English  Romance  of  William  and  the  Werwolf;  edited 
from  an  unique  copy  in  King's  College  Library,  Cambridge ; 
with  an  Introduction  and  Glossary.  By  Frederic  Madden, 
Esq. 

Earl  Cawdor.    1832. 


8 

The  Private  Diary  of  William,  first  Earl  Cowpeb,  Lord  Chan- 
cellor of  England. 

B/EV.  Edward  Craven  Hawtrey.    1833. 

The  Lyvys  of  Seyntes;  translated  into  Englys  be  a  Doctour  of 
Dyuynite  clepyd  Osbern  Bokenam,  frer  Austyn  of  the 
Convent  of  Stocklare. 

Viscount  Clive,  President.    1835. 

A  Little  Boke  of  Ballads. 

Dedicated  to  the  Club  by  E.  V.  Utterson,  Esq,     1836. 

The  Love  of  Wales  to  their  Soueraigne  Prince,  expressed  in  a  true 
Relation  of  the  Solemnity  held  at  Ludlow,  in  the  Countie  of 
Salop,  upon  the  fourth  of  November  last  past.  Anno  Domini 
1616,  being  the  day  of  the  Creation  of  the  high  and  mighty 
Charles,  Prince  of  Wales,  and  Earle  of  Chester,  in  his  Maiesties 
Palace  of  White-Hall. 

Presented  by  the  Honourable  B,  H.  Clive.    1837. 

Sidneiana,  being  a  collection  of  Eragments  relative  to  Sir  Philip 
Sidney,  Ejiight,  and  his  immediate  Connexions. 

Bishop  of  Lichfield.    1837. 

The  Owl  and  the  Nightingale,  a  Poem  of  the  Twelfth  Century. 
Now  first  printed  from  Manuscripts  in  the  Cottonian  Library, 
and  at  Jesus'  College,  Oxford;  with  an  Introduction  and 
Glossary.     Edited  by  Josephus  Stevenson,  Esq. 

Sir  Stephen  Bichard  Glynne,  Bart.    1838. 

The  Old  English  Version  of  the  Gesta  Bomanorum  :  edited  for  the 
first  time  from  Manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum  and  Uni- 
versity Library,  Cambridge,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by 
Sir  Erederic  Madden,  K.H. 

Printed  for  the  Club,    1838. 


9 

Illustrations  of  Ancient  State  and  Chivalry,  from  MSS.  preserved 
in  the  Ashmolean  Museum,  with  an  Appendix. 

Benjamin  Barnard,  Esq.    1840. 

Manners  and  Household  Expenses  of  England  in  the  thirteenth  and 
fifteenth  Centuries,  illustrated  by  original  Records.  I.  House- 
hold Roll  of  Eleanor  Countess  of  Leicester,  A.D.  1265. 
II.  Accounts  of  the  Executors  of  Eleanor  Queen  Consort  of 
Edward  I.  A.D.  1291.  III.  Accounts  and  Memoranda  of  Sir 
John  Howard,  first  Duke  of  Norfolk,  A.D.  1462  to  A.D.  1471. 

Beriah  Botfield,  Esq.    1841. 

The  Black  Prince,  an  Historical  Poem,  written  in  Erench,  by 
Chandos  Herald  ;  with  a  Translation  and  Notes  by  the  Bev. 
Henry  Octavitjs  Coxe,  M.A. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1842. 

The  Decline  of  the  last  Stuarts.  Extracts  from  the  Despatches  of 
British  Envoys  to  the  Secretary  of  State. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1843. 

Vox  Populi  Vox  Dei,  a  Complaynt  of  the  Comons  against  Taxes. 
Presented  according  to  the  Direction  of  the  late 

Eight  Hon.  Sir  Joseph  Littledale,  Knt.    1843. 

Household  Books  of  John  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  Thomas  Earl  of 
Surrey;  temp.  1481 — 1490.  Erom  the  original  Manuscripts 
in  the  Library  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  London.  Edited 
by  J.  Payne  Collier,  Esq.,  E.S.A. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    18-44. 

Three  Collections  of  English  Poetry  of  the  latter  part  of  the  Six- 
teenth Century. 

Presented  by  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  K.G.    1845. 


10 

Historical  Papers,  Part  I.  Castra  Regia,  a  Treatise  on  the  Suc- 
cession to  the  Crown  of  England,  addressed  to  Queen  Elizabeth 
by  EyOGER  Edwards,  Esq.,  in  1568.  Novissima  Straffordii, 
Some  account  of  the  Proceedings  against,  and  Demeanor  of, 
Thomas  Wentworth,  Earl  of  Strafford,  both  before  and  during 
his  Trial,  as  well  as  at  his  Execution ;  written  in  Latin  by 
Abraham  Wright,  Vicar  of  Okeham,  in  Rutlandshire.  The 
same  (endeauord)  in  English  by  James  Wright,  Barrister  at 
Law. 

Rev.  Philip  Bliss,  D.C.L.,  and  Rev.  Bulkeley  Bandinel.    1846. 

Correspondence  of  Sir  Henry  TJnton,  Knt.,  Ambassador  from 
Queen  Elizabeth  to  Henry  IV.  King  of  Prance,  in  the  years 
MDXCI.  and  MDXCII.  Prom  the  originals  and  authentic 
copies  in  the  State  Paper  Office,  the  British  Museum,  and 
the  Bodleian  Library.  Edited  by  the  Rev.  Joseph  Stevenson, 
M.A.  Printed  for  the  Club.    1847. 

La  Vraie  Cronicque  d'Escoce.  Pretensions  des  Anglois  a  la 
Couronne  de  Prance.  Diplome  de  Jacques  VI.  Roi  de  la 
Grande  Bretagne.  Drawn  from  the  Burgundian  Library  by 
Major  Robert  Anstruther. 

Printed  for  the  Cltjb.    1847. 

The  Sherley  Brothers,  an  Historical  Memoir  of  the  Lives  of  Sir 
Thomas  Sherley,  Sir  Anthony  Sherley,  and  Sir  Robert  Sherley, 
Knights,  by  one  of  the  same  House.    Edited  and  Presented  by 

Evelyn  Philip  Shirley,  Esq.     1848. 

The  Alliterative  Romance  of  Alexander.  Prom  the  unique  Manu- 
script in  the  Ashmolean  Museum.  Edited  by  the  Rev. 
Joseph  Stevenson,  M.A. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1849. 


11 

Letters  and  Dispatches  from  Sir  Henry  Wotton  to  James  the 
First  and  his  Ministers,  in  the  years  MDCXVII — XX. 
Printed  from  the  Originals  in  the  Library  of  Eton  College. 

George  Tomline,  Esq.     1850. 

Poema  quod  dicitur  Vox  Clamantis,  necnOn  Chronica  Tripartita, 
auctore  Johanne  Gower,  nunc  primum  edidit  H.  O.  Coxe, 
M.A.  Printed  for  the  Club.    1850. 

Eive  Old  Plays.  Edited  from  Copies,  either  unique  or  of  great 
rarity,  by  J.  Payne  Collier,  Esq.,  E.S.A. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1851. 

The  Romaunce  of  the  Sowdone  of  Babylone  and  of  Eerumbras 
his  Sone  who  conquerede  E,ome. 

The  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  President.    1854. 

The  Ayenbite  of  Inwyt.  Erom  the  Autograph  MS.  in  the  British 
Museum.    Edited  by  the  Bev.  Joseph  Stevenson,  M.A. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1856. 

John  de  Garlande,  de  Triumphis  Ecclesise  Libri  Octo.  A  Latin 
Poem  of  the  Thirteenth  Century.  Edited,  from  the  unique 
Manuscript  in  the  British  Museum,  by  Thomas  Wright,  Esq., 
M.A.,  E.S.A.,  Hon.  M.B.S.L.,  &c.  &c. 

Earl  of  Powis.    1856. 

Poems  by  Michael  Drayton.  Erom  the  earliest  and  rarest  Edi- 
tions, or  from  Copies  entirely  unique.  Edited,  with  Notes  and 
Illustrations,  and  a  new  Memoir  of  the  Author,  by  J.  Payne 
Collier,  Esq.,  E.S.A.  Printed  for  the  Club.    1850. 

Literary  Remains  of  King  Edward  the  Sixth.  In  Two  Volumes. 
Edited  from  his  Autograph  Manuscripts,  with  Historical  Notes 
and  a  Biographical  Memoir,  by  John  Gough  Nichols,  E.S.A. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1857. 


12 

The  Itineraries  of  William  Wet,  Pellow  of  Eton  College,  to  Jeru- 
salem, A.D.  1458  and  A.D.  1462  ;  and  to  Saint  James  of  Com- 
postella,  A.D.  1456.  Prom  the  original  MS.  in  the  Bodleian 
Library.  Printed  eor  the  Club.    1857. 

The  Boke  of  Noblesse  ;  Addressed  to  King  Edward  the  Eourth  on 
his  Invasion  of  Prance  in  1476.  With  an  Introduction  by 
John  Gotjgh  Nichols,  P.S.A. 

LoED  Delamere.     1860. 

Songs  and  Ballads,  with  other  Short  Poems,  chiefly  of  the  Reign  of 
Philip  and  Mary.  Edited,  from  a  Manuscript  in  the  Ashmo- 
lean  Museum,  by  Thomas  Wright,  Esq.,  M.A.,  P.S.A.,  &c.  &c. 

Robert  S.  Holford,  Esq.    1860. 

De  Regimine  Principum,  a  Poem  by  Thomas  Occleve,  written  in 
the  Reign  of  Henry  IV.  Edited  for  the  first  time  by  Thomas 
Wright,  Esq.,  M.A.,  P.S.A.,  &c.  &c. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1860. 

The  History  of  the  Holy  Graal ;  partly  in  English  Verse  by  Henry 
Lonelich,  Skynner,  and  wholly  in  Prench  Prose  by  Sires 
Robiers  de  Borron.  In  two  volumes.  Edited,  from  MSS.  in 
the  Library  of  Corpus  Christi  College,  Cambridge,  and  the 
British  Museum,  by  Prederick  J.  Purnivall,  Esq.,  M.A., 
Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1861  and  1863. 

Roberd  of  Brunne's  Handlyng  Synne,  written  A.D.  1203 ;  with 
the  Prench  Treatise  on  which  it  is  founded,  Le  Manuel  des 
Pechie3  by  William  of  Waddington.  Prom  MSS.  in  the  British 
Museum  and  Bodleian  Libraries.  Edited  by  Prederick  J. 
Purnivall,  Esq.,  M.A. 

Printed  for  the  Club.     1862. 


13 

The  Old  English  Version  of  Partonope  of  Blois.  Edited  for  the 
first  time  from  MSS.  in  University  College  Library  and  the 
Bodleian  at  Oxford,  by  the  Rev.  W.  E.  Buckley,  M.A., 
Bector  of  Middleton  Cheney,  and  formerly  Fellow  of  Brasenose 
College.  Printed  for  the  Club.    1862. 

Philosophaster,  Comoedia ;  Poemata,  auctore  Boberto  Burtono, 
S.  Th.  B.,  Democrito  Juniore,  Ex  Mde  Christi  Oxon. 

Rev.  William  Edward  Buckley.     1862. 

La  Queste  del  Saint  Graal.  In  the  Erench  Prose  of  Maistres 
Gautiers  Map,  or  Walter  Map.  Edited  by  Frederick  J. 
FuRNiVALL,  Esq.,  M.A.,  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge. 

Printed  for  the  Club.     1864.. 

A  Royal  Historie  of  the  excellent  Knight  Generides. 

Henry  Hucks  Gibbs,  Esq.    1865. 

The  Copy-Book  of  Sir  Amias  Poulet's  Letters,  written  during  his 
Embassy  in  France,  A.D.  1577. 

Printed  for  the  Club.     1866. 

The  Bokes  of  Nurture  and  Kervynge. 

Hon.  Robert  Curzon.     1867. 

A  Map  of  the  Holy  Land,  illustrating  Wey's  Itineraries. 

Printed  for  the  Club.     1867. 

Historia  Quatuor  Regum  Anglise,  authore  Johanne  Herdo. 

Simon  Watson  Taylor,  Esq.     1868. 

Letters  of  Patrick  Ruthven,  Earl  of  Forth  and  Brentford, 
1616 — 1662.  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  President.    1868. 

The  Pilgrimage  of  the  Lyf  of  the  Mauhode,  from  tlic  French  of 
Guillaumc  de  Deguileville.        Printed  for  the  Club.     1869. 

Correspondence  of  Colonel  N.  llooke,  1703—1707.     Vol.  1. 

Printed  for  the  Club.    1870 — 1, 


14 

Liber  E-egalis;  seu  ordo  Consecrandi  Uegem  et  Heginam. 

Earl  Beatjchamp.     1870. 

Le  Myst^re  de  Saint  Louis,  Eoi  de  Trance. 

Printed  for  the  Cltjb.     1871. 

Correspondence  of  Colonel  N.  Hooke,  1703—1707.     Vol.  II. 

Printed  for  the  Club.     1871. 

The  History  of  the  Most  Noble  Knight  Plasidas,  and  other  Pieces ; 
from  the  Pepysian  Library.       Printed  for  the  Club.     1873. 

Florian  and  Plorete,  a  Metrical  Romance. 

Marquis  of  Lothian.     1873. 

A  Fragment  of  Partonope  of  Blois,  from  a  Manuscript  at  Vale 
Eoyal.  Printed  for  the  Club.     1873. 

The  Legend  of  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton. 

Paul  Bugler,  Esq.    1874. 

Correspondence  of  tiie  First  Earl  of  Ancram  and  the  Third  Earl 
of  Lothian.     1616—1687.     2  Vols. 

Marquis  of  Lothian.     1875. 

The  History  of  Grisild  the  Second. 

John  Benjamin  Heath,  Esq.     1875. 


A* 


PREFACE. 


The  Introduction  (§  III.  Editorial)  gives  all  the  information 
that  seemed  to  be  required  as  to  our  reproduction  of  these 
Poems  of  Richard  Barnfield — this,  the  spelling  of  his  last 
title-page  (1605)  and  of  his  "Will,  preferably  to  Barnefeild  and 
other  variations,  being  adopted — now  for  the  first  time  collected ; 
but,  inasmuch  as  for  the  mere  nothing  of  biographic  fact  hitherto 
fiuTiished  concerning  him,  we  have  the  satisfaction  of  pretty  fully 
elucidating  and  illustrating  his  Life  (§1.  Biographical),  it  must  be 
permitted  us  to  thank  here  various  friends  who  have  greatly 
aided  us  in  the  task  of  love.  Foremost  among  these  is  Miss 
C.  S.  Burne,  Loynton  Hall,  Newport,  Shropshire,  whose  indefatig- 
able intelligence  in  exploring  every  available  source  of  information 
cannot  be  sufl&ciently  commended.  Hearty  acknowledgments  are 
similarly  due  to  the  Incumbents  of  St.  Michael's,  Stone  (Rev. 
Eldred  Woodland,  M.A.),  and  of  Norbury  (Rev.  Thomas  Burne, 
M.A.),  and  Colonel  Chester  of  Bermondsey,  for  communication  of 
Register  entries  and  other  items.  To  the  Rev.  W.  E.  Buckley, 
M.A.,  of  Middleton  Cheney,  Banbury,  I  am  indebted  for  the  use  of 


ii  Preface. 

various  rare  books  and  for  useful  references  and  suggestions,  as  well 
as  for  the  pains  he  has  taken  in  drawing  up  the  tabular-statement 
of  the  Barnfield  and  Skrymsher  Pedigrees  from  my  materials.  To 
the  Custodians  of  the  unique  or  extremely  rare  originals  in  Sion 
College  Library,  London,  and  the  Bodleian,  Oxford ;  and  Sir  Charles 
H.  Isham,  Bart.  Lamport  Hall,  Northampton,  we  would  offer  our 
best  thanks  for  the  use  of  their  several  treasures.  The  Notes  and 
Illustrations  at  close,  as  in  nearly  all  our  works  on  our  early 
literature,  are  not  a  little  indebted  to  Dr.  Brinsley  Nicholson, 
Woodlands  Road,  Bedhill. 

In  our  critical  examination  of  Mr.  J.  P.  Collier's  erroneous 
(attempted)  withdrawal  of  "As  it  fell  upon  a  day,"  &c.,  from 
Barnfield,  effective  aid  has  been  found  in  Mr.  Charles  Edmonds's 
most  valuable  and  careful  Introduction  to  his  charming  little 
fac-simile  (in  his  Isham  Beprints)  of  the  1593  Venus  and  Adonis. 
The  fac-similes  of  the  original  title-pages  and  of  Barnfield's 
autograph  and  monogram,  and  of  the  arms  from  a  Harleian  MS. 
(1241),  may  be  accepted  as  literally  faithful.  Other  points  are 
elsewhere  noticed. 


ALEXANDER  B.  GBOSABT. 


St.  George's  Vestry, 

Blackburn,  Lancashire. 


INTRODUCTION. 

I.  Biographical,         II.  Bibliographical  and  Critical.  Ill,  Editorial. 


I.  Biographical.  Prom  apparently  a  confused  recollection  of 
the  great  historic  name  of  Barnevelt — to  whom  Motley  has  given 
such  splendid  resurrection  in  our  day — the  latest  editor  of  Warton's 
"  History  of  English  Poetry  "  has  hazarded  the  guess  that  Richard 
Barnfield  was  of  "  Dutch  or  Elemish  "  origin ;  and  he  tacks  to  it 
another  guess,  that,  as  the  initials  "  B.  B."  occur  at  the  end  of  some 
encomiastic  verses  prefixed  to  Verstegan's  Restitution  of  Decayed 
Intelligence  (1605),  they  must  belong  to  Barnfield;  and  then 
succeeds  still  a  third  guess,  as  follows :  "  Verstegan  himself  came 
from  Flanders;  possibly  the  two  were  brought  into  acquaintance 
in  that  way.  But  in  Barnfield's  case  the  change  of  residence  must 
have  been  less  immediate,  for  surely  no  author  whom  we  could 
name  has  fairer  pretensions  to  be  regarded  as  a  writer  of  genuine, 
untainted,  vernacular  English."  ^  All  this  is  without  the  shadow 
of  authority.  Barnevelt  and  Barnfield  sound  (to  a  bad  ear)  some- 
what alike,  but  are  not  synonymous.  As  will  appear,  Barnfield  is  a 
very  old  and  'gentle'  English  name.  The  "encomiastic  verses" 
to  Verstegan  it  is  an  outrage  to  attribute  to  the  poet  of  "  Nights 

^  Hnzlitt's  Warton,  iv,  pp,  439,  440 — with  every  abatement  of  errors  of  omission  and 
commission  and  of  perplexing  intermixture  of  former  and  later  materials — a  solid  and 
useful  work. 

a2 


iv  Introduction. 

were  short  and  dayes  were  long"  and  "As  it  fell  upon  a  day" — so 
sorry  are  they ;  and  why  single  out  one  of  at  least  half-a-dozen 
"  E/.  B."  contemporary  pieces  of  the  same  kind  that  might  be 
produced  ?  The  "  genuine,  untainted,  vernacular  English  "  (what- 
ever '  vernacular '  may  or  may  not  mean)  ought  to  have  suppressed 
these  idle  "  Pleasures  of  Imagination."  But  it  is  easier  to  indulge 
in  such  than  diligently  to  search  out  Pacts ;  and  so  in  all  too 
sorrowfully  many  cases  traditionary  blanks  are  left  unfilled,  and 
traditionary  errors  repeated  and  increased.  Malone's  extract 
from  the  Register  of  Brazenose  College  :  "  Richard  Barnefield, 
Stafford,  gen.fil^^  ought  to  have  sent  any  one  professing  to  care  for 
or  to  write  intelligently  of  him  to  Staffordshire;  and  one  poem 
among  his  *'  Poems  in  diuers  humors  " — certainly  not  in  itself  very 
memorable — viz.  "  An  Epitaph  vpon  the  Death  of  his  Aunt, 
Mistresse  Elizabeth  Skrymsher,"  might  have  still  further  helped.^ 
Curiously  enough  too,  from  failing  to  remember  this  *'  Epitaph," 
the  late  industrious  and  to-be-ever-gratefully-thought-of  Joseph 
Hunter  had  his  finger  on  a  MS.  pedigree  that  would  have  opened 
up  all  that  it  is  our  privilege  to  ^ofor  the  first  time,  but  missed  the 
discovery  and  passed  on.^ 

Turning  then  to  a  volume  of  Shropshire  Pedigrees  in  the  British 
Museum  entitled  "The  Visitation  of  Shropshire,  taken  and  made  by 
Richard  Lee  (alias)  Richmond  Herauld  and  Marshall  to  Robert 
Cooke  (alias)  Clarenceiaux  Kinge  of  Armes,  taken  in  the  yeare  of 
our  Lord  God  1564.  Augmented  by  manye  Notes  and  Gatherings 
of  Lewis  Dunne  and  others,  by  me  Jacob  Chaloner,  of  London,  gent. 
vntiU  the  year  1620.  Copied  by  me  Tho.  Hanford  of  Wigmore 
Ano  1661."  (Harleian  MSS.  1241,  p.  105),   we  find   a   somewhat 

^  See  it  on  page  193. 

2  The  Chorus  Vatum  MSS.  (Add.  MSS.  21487-21493.)  The  article  on  Barnfield 
is  in  21487.  As  above,  he  mentions  that  in  Harleian  MS.  1241  is  a  pedigree  of 
Bamfields,  but  adds  he  is  unaware  whether  they  are  the  Poet's  family. 


Introduction,  v 

full  and  careful  pedigree  of  the  Barnfields,  which  is  confirmed  by 
others,  and  in  it  discover  our  Worthy.     These  are  the  details. 

Starting  with  a  Walter  Barnfeeld  («i<?),  he  married  Grace, 
daughter  to  Sir  Ralph  Pudsey,  Knt.  They  seem  to  have  had  a  first- 
born son ;  but  only  the  second  son's  name  has  been  preserved,  viz. 
Walter  Barnfeeld,  "  2  sonne,  of  Powltsmore,  in  Deuon  co."  He 
married  Ellen,  daughter  to  Sir  Nicholas  Ettonof  Wildemore  by  the 
Earle  of  Salop's  daughter.   They  again  had  a  son  Thomas  Barnfeeld, 

who  married  Anne,  daughter  to Ward.     Their  eldest  son 

was  Robert  Barnfeeld,  who  married  Elinor,  daughter  to 

Taylor  ;  and  it  is  with  this  pair  we  are  mainly  concerned.^  They 
had  two  sons,  Richard  and  Robert.  The  former  ^  is  described  as 
Richard  Barnfeeld  of  Edgcombe,  and  married  to  Mary,  youngest 
daughter  to  John  Skrymsher  of  Norbury  in  co.  Stafford.  Their 
eldest  son  was  our  Poet,  who  is  entered  as  Richard  Barnfeeld,  Son 
and  Heir  of  Richard  Barnfeeld  of  Edgcombe ;  and  as  having  had 


»  The  second  son,  William  Barnfeeld,  is  designated  "  of  Newport,  2  sonne,"  his  wife 
being  unnamed.  His  son  was  John  (of  Newport),  married  to  Alice,  daughter  of 
Francis  Palmer  of  ArcoU,  and  their  family  consisted  of  Frances:  vxor  Callcott:  HabcU, 
vxor  Foulk  Roberts  :  Jane,  ob.  s.  p.  [i.  e.  sine  prole'] :  Elizabeth,  vxor  Thomas  Nowell, 
and  William  (of  Newport,  1623)  who  was  married  to  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Nicholas 
Pope  Gierke  of  y«  Kitchen:  and  had  sons  Robert,  Richard,  and  John, — all  these 
apparently  having  died  unmarried.  Above,  Arcoll  should  be  Ercall,  which  name  is 
borne  still  by  two  villages  in  Shropshire. 

2  Robert  Barnfeeld,  "2  sonne,  1604,"  married  Ellen,  daughter  to  Thurstan  Woodcock, 
They  had  daughters  (a)  Joan  vxor  Walter  Storey,  (b)  Ellen  vxor  John  Grosuenor, 
(c)  Anne,  {d)  Elizabeth,  (e)  Mary,  (/)  Robert.  The  last  Robert  "  son  and  heire " 
married  Alice,  daughter  to  Aron  Hewatt,  and  had  a  son  Thomas,  a  Ward.  A  "  2  sonne  " 
Richard  married  Eliza,  daughter  to  Egington,  and  had  two  sons,  Robert  and  William. 

A  "  8  Sonne  "  (of  Newport)  married  Martha,  daughter  to  John of  Warr-shier 

[=  Warwickshire],  and  had  two  daughters,  Dorothy  and  Mary.  Of  these  the 
Qrosvenor  family  were  seated,  one  branch  at  Norton  in  Hales  co.  Salop,  another  at 
Bushbury  co  Stafford. 


vi  Introduction. 

two  brothers,  Robert  and  Jobn.^  Glancing  back  on  this  pedigree, 
Sir  Nicholas  Etton  of  Wildemore  means  Sir  Nicholas  Eyton  of 
Eyton  on  the  Wildmoors — one  of  the  very  oldest  of  the  "proud 
Salopian "  families,  and  which  was  so  nobly  represented  recently 
by  the  late  lamented  J.  W.  K.  Eyton,  esq.  Sir  Nicholas  Eyton 
married  Margaret,  daughter  of  John  Talbot,  second  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  by  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  Butler,  Earl  of 
Ormond.  Margaret,  another  daughter,  married  Sir  William  Yonge 
(living  in  1471)  of  Caynton,  a  manor  in  Edgmond  parish — Eyton 
being  about  six  miles  from  Edgmond.  Such  is  a  specimen  of  the 
'  blue  hlood^  that  it  were  not  hard  to  trace  through  many  families 
for  our  Richard  Barnfield  if  it  were  worth  while,  as  it  is  not. 

Two  facts  thus  far  demand  specific  notice,  {a)  That  Richard 
Barnfield's  father  is  designated  of  "Edgcombe"  in  the  pedigree. 
This  should  be  Edgmond,  a  good-sized  village  to-day,  adjoining  the 
thriving  town  of  Newport,  Shropshire.^  {h)  That  his  mother  was 
Mary,  youngest  daughter  to  John  Skrymsher  of  Norbury,  in  the 
county  of  Stafford.  The  latter  fact  calls  for  similar  examination 
of  the  maternal,   as   in  the  preceding   of  the   paternal,   descent, 

^  Robert  Barnfeeld,  brother  of  the  Poet,  is  described  as,  in  1604,  "  2  Sonne,  of 
Edgcombe,"  and  married  to  Milburgh,  third  daughter  of  John  Brooke  of  Madley,  esq. 
[=  Madeley,  a  village  on  the  Severn,  between  Bridgnorth  and  Wellington.]  They 
had  two  daughters,  Anne  and  Mary,  untraced,  as  is  also  John  Barnfeeld  the  "  3 
Sonne,"  and  another  brother  of  our  Poet.  In  the  Canon  Newland  MSS.  Salt  Library, 
Stafford,  of  Shropshire  Pedigrees,  the  Barnefields  are  also  said  to  have  belonged 
originally  to  co.  Devon;  but  for  Robe];fc,  brother  of  our  Richard,  read  Roger.  A 
Roger  Barnfield,  of  Hinstock's  Will,  is  entered  in  the  Act  Books  of  the  Diocese  (as 
supra),  as  proved  1619  ;  but  it  has  disappeared  at  the  Registry,  as  have  other  Barnfield 
Wills.  The  same  MSS.  agree  with  our  text  (supra)  that  nieces  of  our  Worthy — 
daughters  of  his  brother  Robert — married,  severally,  Storey  (spelled  Sturrey)  and 
Grosvenor ;  and  Anne,  Thomas  Booth  of  Shifnall,  co.  Salop. ;  and  other  daughters, 
Francis  Symonds  and  Edward  Piers.  The  Symondses  were  of  Newport,  Salop,  ancestors 
of  the  Royalist  antiquary,  Col.  Richard  Symonds. 

2  See  Appendix  A.  to  this  Introduction,  p.  xli. 


Introduction.  vii 

especially  as  it  is  even  more  distinguished.  The  Skrymshers  of 
Norbury  Manor,  co.  Stafford,  claimed  in  the  seventeenth  century  to 
have  come  of  "a  noble  Scotch  family," — meaning  the  Scrymgeours, — 
hereditary  Standard-bearers  of  Scotland ;  and  this  gains  some  colour 
from  the  arms  confirmed  (not  granted)  to  Thomas  Skrymshor  of 
Aqualate  in  1584,  which  strongly  resemble  the  royal  arms  of 
Scotland,  being.  Gules,  a  lion  rampant  or,  within  a  Bordure  Vair. 
The  first  Skrymsher  proper  was  William  Skrymsher  of  North 
Ditton,  in  co.  York,  esquire,  who  married  Alice,  daughter  of 
Thomas  Witherington,  esquire.  Their  son  was  Thomas  Skrymsher, 
a  Prothonotary  of  the  Common  Pleas,  who  in  1540  completed  the 
purchase  of  the  manor  from  Sir  Philip  Boteler,  to  whose  family  it 
had  belonged  for  at  least  four  centuries.  This  Thomas  Skrymslier 
also  purchased  very  large  adjoining  estates,  including  Aqualate, 
Johnston  Hall,  High  Offley,  Orselow,  and  othei*s,  which  were  in 
course  of  time  divided  among  his  descendants,  who  soon  formed  a 
large  clan  scattered  over  the  neighbourhood. 

Thomas  Skrymsher,  the  Prothonotary,  died  in  1551,  and  was 
buried  at  Norbury  on  the  18th  September.  His  Will,  which  is 
dated  26th  January  1550-1,  was  proved  in  London  on  the  12th 
Pebruary  of  the  year  following.  In  it  he  desires  to  be  buried  in 
a  vault  in  the  chancel  of  Norbury  Church  under  an  alabaster  stone 
which  he  had  caused  to  be  laid  there  (now  gone),  and  he  reveals  that 
he  adhered  to  the  Roman  Catholic  faith  by  a  bequest  of  "  20  marks 
for  the  wealth  ^  of  my  sister  Selman's  soul,  and  of  all  Christian 
souls,"  and  the  residue  of  his  estate  "for  the  good  of  his  soul,"  not 
forgetting,  however,  to  leave  6/.  13«.  M.  for  the  poor  of  Norbury. 
Besides  daughters,  he  left  two  sons,  John  and  Tliomas.  John,  the 
eldest,  succeeded  his  father  at  Norbury  Manor  and  Aqualate.  He 
was  SlierifT  of  Staff'ordshire  in  1567,  and  married  Dorothy,  daughter 
of  Sir  John  Talbot,  Kut.,  who  died  in  1570-1.  ller  husband 
predeceased  her,  being  buried  at  Norbury,  November  Gth,  1570. 
I  »  weal.     Sec  Note,  page  281, 11.  5-6. 


viii  Introduction. 

He  left  three  sons,  the  eldest,  Thomas  of  Aqualate  Hall,  where  his 
descendants  continued  till  1797.  He  married  Alice,  third  daughter 
of  James  Starkey  of  Darley  Hall,  Oulton,  co.  Chester,  esquire,  and 
died  1595 ;  buried  at  Porton,  co.  Stafford.  The  second  son  was 
James,  of  Norhury  Manor,  who,  like  his  father,  became  Sheriff 
of  StafPordshire  1608.  He  married,  1st.  Elizabeth,  daughter  of 
E-obert  Collier  of  Darlaston  and  Stone,  gentleman.  This  *fair 
lady '  (the  aunt  of  the  Epitaph  already  referred  to)  was  his  cousin 
(it  is  believed),  daughter  of  his  "aunt"  Joyce,  the  daughter  of 
Thomas  Skrymsher,  Prothonotary ;  married  at  Norbury,  1542 — 
to  whom  her  father  leaves  20^.  "  for  the  preferment  of  her 
little  daughter."  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Skrymsher  died  childless,  and 
was  buried  at  Norbury  14th  October  1594,  and  in  a  verse-Epitaph, 
or  Lament,  was  celebrated  affectionately  by  her  nephew,  our  Poet, 
then  (as  will  be  seen)  in  his  19th-20th  year.  Her  husband  next 
married  Margaret,  third  daughter  of  John  Poole,  of  Nether  Poole, 
Eastham,  county  Chester,  esquire,  which  family  had  been  seated  at 
Poole  since  Henry  III.,  and  still  resided  there  when  Ormerod  wrote 
his  History  of  Cheshire  in  1816.  She  also  died  childless,  in  1597, 
and  was  buried  at  Norbury,  9th  September.  The  second-time 
widowed  husband  married  in  1598  Eleanor,  youngest  daughter  of 
John  Hocknell  or  Hockenhull,  of  Prenton,  co.  Chester,  gentleman, 
by  whom  he  had  three  sons  and  at  least  seven  daughters,^  one 
of  whom  (Katharine)  is  traditionally  said  to  have  been  nurse  to 
King  James  11.^     The  descendants  of  the  elder  son,  John,  con- 


1  Viz.  (1)  Dorothy,  m.  Francis  Forster,  of  Watling-street,  Salop,  1622;  (2) 
Eleanor,  m.  Thomas  Crompton;  (3)  Katharine,  m.  John  Elliott,  1624,  of  Bellos  in 
Essex;  (4)  Sara,  m.  Bowyer ;  f 5)  Elizabeth ;  (6)  Martha,  m.  Francis  Collier;  (7) 
Grisell,  na.  Ralph  Greene.     More  on  these  onward. 

2  Henry  Hockenhnll,  of  Prenton,  great-grandfather  of  Eleanor  Skrymsher,  was 
second  eon  of  John  Hockenhnll,  of  Hockenhull,  esq.  The  family  continued  at  Prenton 
till  the  heiress  of  it,  in  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  married  Thomas  Briscoe,  of 
Clayley.     Prenton  belonged  to  the  son  of  this  couple  in  Ormerod's  time. 


Introduction. 


IX 


tinued  at  Norbury  till  1774,  when  Thomas  Boothby  Skrymsher  sold 
it  to  Mr.  Anson  (formerly  Adams),  nephew  of  Admiral  Lord  Anson 
and  father  of  the  first  Viscount  Anson.  James  Skrymsher  was 
buried  at  Norbury  1st  July  1619.  Of  John  Skrymsher's  third  son, 
Richard,  nothing  appears  except  his  name.  In  all  probability  (a) 
Anne  Skrymsher,  married  at  Norbury  to  Edward  Barber  11th  July 
1563  ;  (6)  Winifred,  married  21st  June  1566  to  George  Coyney 
of  Chipnal,  co.  Salop  (about  six  miles  from  Norbury),  second  son 
of  John  Coyney,  of  Weston  Coyney  ;  and  by  whom  she  had  four 
daughters,  Susan,  Cassandra,  Margerye,  and  Marie;  (c)  Isabel, 
married  21st  July  1566  to  William  Wolnall  [=Wettenhall  of 
Lendring,  co.  Rutland.  Visit,  of  Rutland,  1618], — were  daughters 
of  John  Skrymsher ;  but  the  only  one  of  his  daughters  whose 
baptism  is  recorded  in  the  Register  of  Norbury  is  Jane,  baptized 
22nd  August  1552 — probably  his  youngest  child,  but  of  whom 
nothing  more  is  known  seemingly.  The  remaining  daughter — 
mother  of  our  "sweet  Singer" — Mary,  was  in  all  likelihood  born 
before  1551,  in  which  year  her  father  came  to  reside  at  Norbury  on 
his  father's  death.  John  Skrymsher  and  his  wife  having  died  in 
1570  and  1571,  it  may  be  pretty  certainly  assumed  that  Mary  con- 
tinued to  live  at  the  Manor  House  with  her  brother  James  and  his 
childless  first  wife,  her  first  cousin,  Elizabeth  Collier.  At  any  rate, 
she  was  married  from  there  in  the  following  year  (16th  April  1572), 
being  designated  in  the  Harleian  MSS.  {ante)  "  of  Norbury."  It  is 
pleasant  to  find  that  Richard  Bamfield  and  his  wife  Mary  returned 
from  their  honeymoon  jaunt  (if  such  were  the  olden  usage)  and 
took  up  their  residence  in  the  grand  old  Manor  House.  Therein 
our  Poet  was  born  in  1574.^     The  entry  of  his  baptism  in  Norbury 

^  The  engraving  of  Norbury  Manor  is  admitted  into  Plot  chiefly  for  the  view 
underneath  it  of  the  haunt  of  the  black-headed  gulls,  locally  called  pewits,  in  relation 
to  his  account  of  their  singular  habits  and  as  singular  ways  of  capturing  them,  &q 
The  building  was  pulled  down  within    the   memory   of    old   people    now   living.     A 

b 


X  Introduction. 

Register  thus  runs :  Ricardus  Barnefield  baptizatus  fuit  die  mesis 
[June]  xiii.  1574/  Our  reproduction  from  Plot's  quaint  folio  on 
Staffordshire  "  Natural  History  "  (1686)  of  the  '•'  Manor  House  of 
Norbury,"  shows  it  to  have  been  the  very  beau  ideal  of  an  Eliza- 
bethan Poet's  birth-place ;  while  Norbury  itself  is  even  now  a  tiny 
out-of-the-way  village,  hiding  itself  away  some  miles  from  any 
town,  and  off  the  high  road,  and  with  a  primitive  population. 
The  Brazenose  College  entry  of  November  27th  1589  gives  *'  aetat 
15,"  so  carrying  us  back  to  1574  as  his  birth-year,  in  agreement 
with  the  record  of  his  baptism.  Alas  !  The  married  life  of  Mary 
Barnfield  was  a  (comparatively)  brief  one.  Within  seven  years 
she  was  buried,  only  two  days  after  the  baptism  of  her  daughter 
Dorothy,  so  that  little  Richard  was  motherless  in  his  seventh-eighth 
year.  But  his  "  Aunt  Elizabeth,"  being,  as  we  have  seen,  childless 
herself,  must  have  proved  a  second  mother  to  him  and  his  brothers 
(of  whom  before)." 

Persistent  search  and  research  have  failed  to  discover  our  Richard 
Barnfield's  school  and  early  education.  It  is  manifest  that,  well- 
connected  paternally  and  maternally,  and  cared  for  at  Norbury 
Manor  House,  he  would  have  every  advantage  that  the  family 
position  could  command.  The  register  at  Brazenose  as  "  gen.  fil." 
{i.e.  generosi  filius) ,  is  a  simple  matter-of-fact,  but  perchance  showed 
also  family  oversight,  that  so  he  should  be  entered  on  his  matricu- 
lation at  the  University.     Strangely  enough  his  name  escaped  the 

neighbouring  farm-house,  mainly  built  of  the  fine  squared  sandstone  of  the  old  mansion, 
has  had  legends  of  ghost-haunting  transferred  to  it. 

^  Norbury  Reg. 

'-'  The  following  are  the  remaining  Barnfield  entries  from  the  Norbury  Register : — 

1572.  Richardus  Barnefield  et  Maria  Skrimsher  matri.  cotraxere  Aprillis  xvi. 

1581.  Dorothea  Barnefield  filia  Ricardi  Barnefield  baptizata  fuit  Martii  xxv. 
„      Maria  Barnefield  sepulta  fuit  die  mesis  p''  [March]  xxvii." 

The  spelling  might  read  as  "  Barnsfield." 


Introduction.  xi 

indefatigable  Anthony  a- Wood;  and  his  erudite  Editor,  Dr.  Philip 
Bliss  (vol.  i.  pp.  683-4),  has  really  added  nothing  to  our  knowledge 
of  him  heyond  (from  Fuller's  Worthies)  his  passing  B.A.  February 
5th  1591-2,  and  his  performing  the  exercises  for  M.A.,  though  it 
does  not  appear  that  he  proceeded  to  that  degree.  His  "Encomion" 
(1598)  bears  that  he  was  "  Graduate  in  Oxford.'*  Had  he  pro- 
ceeded to  M.A.,  most  likely  M.A.  would  have  been  substituted 
for  "  Graduate."  I  suspect  that,  as  with  the  death  of  Bamabe 
Barnes's  father,  so  with  the  death  of  his  good  aunt,  on  14th 
October  1594,  Barnfield's  university  career  was  arrested,  albeit 
his  final  abiding-place  and  the  details  of  his  Will  point  to  inherit- 
ance of  means  through  his  aunt  (if  not  otherwise  also). 

What  he  intended  to  be  when  he  went  to  the  University,  and 
what  he  actually  became  when  he  ceased  residence,  it  is  impossible 
to  tell  at  this  late  day.  From  the  "  Epitaph  "  of  1594  onward,  the 
only  light  obtained  is  from  the  title-pages  of  his  successive  publica- 
tions. Under  our  next  section  full  bibliographical  details  are 
furnished.  Suffice  it  here  biographically  to  recal  that  "  The 
Affectionate  Shepheard,"  published  in  1594  anonymously,  informs 
us  that  so  early  as  his  twentieth  year  he  had  gained  access  to  the 
"  magic  circle  "  within  which  Sidney's  Stella  still  burned  and 
swayed  with  her  magnificent  intellect  and  beauty ;  for  it  is  dedicated 
"  To  the  right  excellent  and  most  beautifull  Lady,  the  Lady  Penelope 
Ritch  "  in  a  form  declarative  {meo  judicio)  of  personal  friendship, 
the  subscription  running  "  Your  Honours  most  affectionate  and 
perpetually  denoted  Shepheard,  Daphnis " — a  very  different  style 
from  John  Ford  in  his  dedication  of  "  Fame's  Memorial "  as 
avowedly  by  a  stranger.  It  is  also  to  be  remembered  tliat  in  this 
same  "  Affectionate  Shepheard "  the  young  poet  turns  aside  to 
celebrate  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  softly,  tenderly,  and  goldenly;  and, 
what  has  been  very  much  overlooked,  Tuomas  Watson;  by  the 
sentiment  of  which  celebration  one  is  impressed  with  a  conviction 
that  very  early  he  must  have  moved  in  the  great  literary  sphere. 

62 


xii  Introduction. 

We  must  pause  to  read  the  verse-tribute  to  Sidney,  reserving  that 
to  Watson  for  a  later  page : — 

0,  fading  Branches  of  decaying  Bayes, 
Who  now  will  water  your  dry  wither'd  Armes  ? 
'  Or  where  is  he  that  sung  the  louely  Layes 

Of  simple  Shepheards  in  their  Countrey-Farmes  ? 
Ah  he  is  dead,  the  cause  of  all  our  harmes  : 

And  with  him  dide  my  ioy  and  swete  delight ; 

The  cleare  to  Cloudes,  the  Day  is  turn'd  to  Night. 

Sydney,  The  Syren  of  this  latter  Age  ; 
Sydney,  The  Biasing  starre  of  England's  glory ; 
Sydney,  The  Wonder  of  the  wise  and  sage  ; 
Sydney,  The  Subiect  of  true  Vertue's  story ; 
^  This  Syren,  Starre,  this  Wonder,  and  this  Subiect ; 

Is  dumbe,  dim,  gone,  and  mard  by  Fortune's  Obiect. 

Encouraged  by  the  reception  of  *'  The  Affectionate  Shepheard  " 
in  1594,  there  appeared  in  the  following  year  (1595)  "  Cynthia,  with 
certaine  Sonnets  and  the  Legend  of  Cassandra,"  and  to  the  epistle 
dedicatory  "  To  the  Hight  Honorable,  and  most  noble-minded 
Lorde,  William  Stanley,  Earle  of  Derby,"  &c.,  he  adds  his  name — 
Richard  Barnefeild.  Herein  too  he  modestly  observes  "  My  yeares 
being  so  young,  my  perfection  cannot  be  great."  Similarly  he 
signs  an  epistle  "  To  the  curteous  Gentlemen  Readers."  This 
epistle  has  a  veiled  reference  to  a  lady  who  held  supreme  love- 
authority,  who  bore  the  same  name  with  the  great  queen — Elizabeth ; 
and  of  whom  we  wish  in  vain  to  know  more.  The  Epigramme  claims 
a  place  here :  — 

One  name  there  is,  which  name  aboue  all  other 

I  most  esteeme,  as  time  and  place  shall  proue  : 

The  one  is  Vesta,  th'  other  Cupid's  mother. 

The  first  my  Goddesse  is,  the  last  my  loue  ; 
Subiect  to  Both  I  am ;  to  that  by  birth ; 
To  this  for  beautie ;  fairest  of  the  earth.^ 

1  See  Notes  and  Illustrations  at  close  of  the  volume  for  elucidation  of  the  wording  here. 


Introduction.  xiii 

Three  years  later  (1598)  came  '*  The  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia" 
and  related  Poems — on  all  of  which  onward.  Biographically  it  is  to 
be  noted  that  in  the  1605  edition  of  "  The  Encomion,"  ^  &c.  in  the 
verse-dedicatory  Sonnet,  which  the  Isham  MS.  reveals  was  addressed 
to  Sir  John  Spencer— he  intimates  willinghood  to  receive  of  the 
famous  Knight's  "  pecunia;"  but  it  is  semi-playfully  and  in  keeping 
with  the  non-querulous  spirit  of  "The  Encomion"  itself.  The 
"  Complaint  of  Poetrie  for  the  Death  of  Liberalitie  "  is  dedicated  to 
"  Maister  Edward  Leigh,  of  Grayes  Inne,"  one  of  a  band  of  cultured 
and  godly  Puritan  gentlemen  who  have  left  still  quick  books,  of 
ripe  learning  and  finest  openeyed  insight.*  The  "  Combat  between 
Conscience  and  Couetousnesse  in  the  Minde  of  Man  "  is  dedicated 
to  "  Maister  John  Steuenton,  of  Dothill,  in  the  county  of  Salop, 
Esquire,"  and  the  "  Poems  in  divers  Humors "  to  "  Maister 
Nicholas  Blackleech,  of  Grayes  Inne," — both  of  these  gentlemen 
being  now  unknown.^  The  opening  sonnet  of  the  "  Poems  of 
divers  Humors"  is  addressed  to  "-Maister  R.  L.,"  who  was  perhaps 
Richard  Lynch  (or  Linch),  the  poet  of  "Diella"  (1596).3  Barn- 
field's  position  as  a  *  Maker '  was  recognised  in  1600  by  the  inser- 
tion in  "England's  Helicon"  of  "Nights  were  long  "  and  "The 
Shepheard's  Sonnet,"  and  semi-anonymously  "  The  vnknown  Sheep- 
heard's  Complaint." 

*  Among  the  Ashmole  MSS.  (1153,  folios  115-141)  is  a  transcript  in  cipher  of  the 
1605  text,  with  a  key,  that  shows  it  to  correspond  exactly  therewith.  Mr.  "W.  C.  Hazlitt 
(s.  n.)  describes  the  title-page  as  all  that  is  in  cipher. 

2  A  Sir  Francis  Leigh  occurs  in  the  Barnfield-Skrymsher  Pedigrees  {ante).  These 
"Grayes  Inne"  friends  suggest  that  Barnfield  himself  might  have  been  connected 
therewith:  but  I  have  not  succeeded  in  finding  his  name  there,  although  holpoil  by  capable 
inquirers. 

'  It  is  not  known  for  certain.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  while  Barnfield  says  •'  and 
Both  in  thee  remaine,"  in  the  rest  he  very  distinctly  and  twice  puts  in  apposition  R.  L.'s 
love  for  music  and  his  own  love  for  poetry.  '  Diella,'  however,  is  so  slight  a  verse-atteni^it 
that  it  might  be  as  nothing  to  his  musical  gifts  and  tastes. 


i» 


m 


xiv  Introduction. 

With  the  publication  of  the  second  edition  of  '^  Lady  Pecunia  " 
in  1605  the  name  of  our  Poet  disappears.  It  is  extremely  remark- 
able that  one  of  his  unquestionable  poetic  faculty  should  thus  have 
become  dumb,  in  so  far  as  avowed  publication  went,  thus  suddenly 
and  prematurely.  It  was  prematurely,  for  in  1605  he  was  only  in 
his  31st  year,  and,  as  we  shall  immediately  find,  he  lived  for  fully 
twenty  years  thereafter.  These  intervening  twenty  years  are  all 
but  an  absolute  blank — the  one  scintillation  of  light  being  the  inci- 
dentally ascertained  fact  that  in  1619  his  father  was  still  living. 
In  1619  James  Skrymsher  appointed  him  as  one  of  his  executors, 

naming  him  *'  my  well-beloued  in  Christ my  brother-in-law 

Mr.  E/ichard  Barnefield."  Our  final  memorial  is  his  own  Will, 
which  it  has  been  our  rare  good  fortune  to  recover  from  the  Dio- 
cesan Hegistry  at  Lichfield.^  It  and  the  accompanying  Inventories 
are  verbatim  as  follows  : — 

EXTKACTED  FROM  THE  DISTRICT  REGISTRY  ATTACHED  TO  HeR   MaJESTY's  CoURT 

OF  Probate  at  Lichfield. 

In  the  name  of  God,  Amen,  the  26th  daye  Februarie  in  the  yeare  of  the 
Raigne  of  o'"  Soveraigne  Lord  Charles  by  the  Grace  of  God  of  England  Scotland 
France  &  Ireland  King  Defender  of  the  Faith  &c.  Anno  DmI  1626. 

I  Richard  Barnfield  of  Dorlestone  in  the  Countie  of  Stafford  Esq''"  sicke 
in  bodie  but  of  pfect  remembrance  make  this  my  last  Will  and  testament  in 
manner  and  flForme  ifoUowing.  First  I  bequeath  my  soule  to  Almighty  God  my 
Creator  and  Maker  and  my  Bodie  to  be  buried  in  the  prshe  church  of  Stone  in 
the  said  Countie  in  full  hope  of  salvation  and  of  a  ioyfull  resurrection  through 
Christ  my  onelie  Saviour  and  as  concerninge  my  worldly  goods  my  will  and 
mind  is  that  Mr.  John  Skrimsher  of  Norburie  Esquire  his  wife  and  sonne  shall 
have  iii  1.  beinge  equally  divided  betwixt  them.  Item  I  give  to  Mr.  Henrie 
Hockenhull  my  puree  Dagg  one  bedsteed  one  table  my  best  saddle  and  bridle. 
Item  I  give  to  Mrs.  Hockenhull  xx  s.  Item  I  give  to  Charles  Skrimsher  and 
Gerrate  Skrimsher  either  of  them  xx  s.     Item  I  give  to  mris  Elenor  Skrimsher 

1  The  Registrar  (William  Fell,  Esq.)  was  more  than  professionally  obliging. 


Introduction. 


XV 


XX  s.  Item  I  give  to  Sarie  Boeyer  xx  s.  Item  I  give  to  Elizabeth  Skrimsher 
XX  s.  and  alsoe  one  goulde  Ringe.  Item  I  give  to  Martha  xx  s.  and  my  gilte 
spoone.  Item  I  give  to  Grisell  Skrimsher  xx  s.  Item  I  give  my  grandchilde 
Jane  Barnefielde  a  gilte  saulte  which  was  Michill  O'Ffeley's  if  hee  doe  not 
redceme  the  same  in  some  shorte  tyme.  But  if  hee  doe  redeeme  it  she  shall 
have  the  whole  xi  1.  that  he  doth  owe  mee.  Item  I  give  to  Mr.  Martin  x  s.  Item 
I  give  to  my  man  Richard  Cotterall  x  s.  my  hare  coulred  sute  and  Cloake  and  x  s. 
that  I  owe  him.  Item  I  give  to  Mrs.  Doodie  my  truckle  bedd.  Item  I  give  to 
my  Cozen  Ranforde  my  two  best  sutes.  Item,  I  give  Margaret  Richarsone  my 
gonne  and  x  s.  It.  I  give  George  Hill  my  ould  servant  my  other  saddle  and 
bridle.  Item  I  give  to  everie  servant  in  the  house  xiid.  It.  I  leave  v  1.  to 
bestowe  of  a  Dinner  at  my  Burrial.  Item  I  give  to  the  poore  of  Darlestone  xii  d. 
a  peece.  It.  I  give  to  the  poore  of  Stone  xl  s.  Ite.  I  give  to  John  Goodale  of 
Waulton  my  blue  breeches  and  first  Jerkine.  Ite.  I  give  to  my  son  Mr.  Robert 
Barnefield  xx  s.  Item  the  Residue  of  my  goods  being  unbequeathed  I  give  to 
Mr.  Robert  Barnefield  and  mris.  Elinor  Skrimsher  whome  I  leave  my  sole 
Executors  of  this  my  last  Will  and  Testament.  In  witness  whereof  the  daie 
and  yeare  above  written  I  have  putt  unto  my  hand  and  scale,  R.  B. 

Sealed  and  published  in  psence  of  us,  Henry  Hockenhull,  Thomas  Daintrey, 
Richard  Cotterell. 

Proved  on  the  7  day  of  April  1027  by  the  oath  of  Eleanor  Skrimsher  one  of 
the  Executors,  power  reserved  for  Robert  Barnefield  the  other  Executor. 

John  Doodie  A  true  and  pfecte  Inventorie  of  all  the  goodes 

Richard  Challenor  ^^    Richard    Barnefeild    Esq'    discease<l 

Peter  Serisante  praysed  the  xx'*"  daie  of  March  Ann.  Doin. 

his  X  mark.  162B  by  John  Doodie  Richard  Challenor 

Thomas  Daintrey  Peter  Serisante. 
Itm,  tuw  beddsteds        .......  vi*     viii** 

item   one  flockbedd       .......  iii»      iiii** 

item   one  bedd  one  boulster   one   pillowe  one  coverlid 

one  cadtoaic^  three  blanketts      ....  .    iii  /. 


*   I  aui  indebted  to  Mr.  A.  D.  Parker,  of  the   Registry   Oftico,  Lichfield,  for  tin* 
following  in  reference  to  this  word,  of  which  no  other  example,  at  least  in  this  fonn, 

« 


XVI 


Introduction, 


item  nine  Sheetes  three  pillow beres  [=  pillow-case  or 
pillow-slip,  i.e.,  the  linen  cover  in  wliich  a  pillow  is 
placed  on  the  bed]  and  one  Towell 

item   fore  Shirts  .... 

item   sayd  [  =  ditto]   .... 

item   bandes  ruffes  handcarchyes  and  sockes 

item   stuckens  garters  &  sockes 

item   gloves  ..... 

item   all  his  waringe  apperell 

item   two  saddes  and  bridlels 

item   his  bookes  .... 

item   one  guilt  sault  3  spoone 

item    all  his  glasses        .... 

item   pewter  ..... 

item   three  chests  one  deske  boxes  and  table 

item   warminge  pan  and  one  chest  of  toole 

item   fire  shovel  tunges  and  grate 

item   bootes  shooes  &  slippers 

item   one  locke  and  fetters     . 

item   one  goon  and  pistall 


XXP 

viii^    iiii'^ 
iiii^ 

ii^ 


vl. 


v» 


21 


nil* 


vn" 


VI" 


viii^    iiii'' 
vis  viii*^ 
i« 

i» 
viii^    iiii*^ 


has  been  yet  discovered  :  "  I  cannot  read  this  word  in  any  other  way  than  '  cadwaw^  and 
am  of  opinion  that  it  is  either  the  contraction  or  corruption  of  the  word  '  cadurcum,' 
and  is  applied  to  a  quilt  or  some  other  article  of  bed-clothing." 

In  the  Durham  Wills  and  Inventories,  printed  by  the  Surtees  Society  in  1860 
(vol.  ii.  p.  129),  in  will  lxii.  Testamentum  Thomae  Brickwell,  there  is  this  entry  : 
"j  whytte  caddow  and  a  read  13s.  4d;  "  and  in  the  Lancashire  and  Cheshire  Wills 
and  Inventories,  printed  by  the  Chetham  Society  in  1861  (vol.  iii.  p.  135),  in  the 
Inventory  appended  to  the  Will  of  William  Glaseor,  Esq.,  Vice- Chamberlain  of  the  city 
of  Chester  (dated  January  17,  1588-9),  mention  is  made  of  *'  a  blankett  and  an  Irishe 
caddow  checked  xiij^  iiij^."  Also  in  the  volume  of  Richmondshire  Wills,  printed  by  the 
Surtees  Society  1853,  p.  287,  in  the  Inventory  of  William  Braythewaite  of  Kyrland  in 
Kendal,  is  the  following  entry:  "vj  cotton  blankets  viij®;  ij  fledg  blankets  v^;  ij 
caddow  blankets  ij®  iiij*^."  Probably  'cadwaw'  is  a  variant  of  'caddow,'  Bullet, 
''  Memoires  sur  la  Langue  Celtique,"  Besangon,  1759,  fob  (ii.  245),  gives, "  Cadw,  sauver, 
defendre,  &c.     Cadow  en  Anglois,  couvertiue  velue,  manteau  d'Irlande," — W.  E.  B. 


Introduction.  xvii 

item   one  brush  and  one  eushen i»     vi'' 

item    in  moneys    .......  xH.     xv»      ii^ 

Some  Ixvi  I.    xv"     ii**  * 

By  this  Will  we  are  enabled  to  give  the  hitherto  unknown  year- 
date  of  Barnfield's  death,  viz.  1627  ;  the  date  of  proving  and  the 
neighbouring  register-entries  showing  that  1626  was  our  1627, 
i.e.,  1626-7 ;  *  and  here  is  the  entry  from  the  Hegister  of  Stone  of 
his  burial  under  1626-7. 

Nomina  eorum  quis  sepuiti  erant  Anno  Domini  1626. 
Riehardus  Barnefeild  generosus  sepultus 
fuit  Sexto  Die  Martij  Anno  supradieto  [?] 

Barnabas  Willatt  Minister. 

James  Till  \ 

Thomas  Amberye         / 

Roger  Bradburye         [     Churchwardens. 

Christopher  Dutton      1 

The  Dorleston  (spelled  Darlaston  now,  as  in  Dugdale  [Mon.  vi. 
p.  233,  ed.  1830]  )  of  this  Will — one  of  two  places  thus  named  in 
Staffordshire — is  "  a  liberty  in  the  parish  of  Stone,"  about  one-and- 
a-half  mile  from  "  Stone  "  Station  of  the  railway.  According  to 
Erdeswicke's  Survey  of  Staffordshire — the  worthy  Ajitiquary  himself 
having  been  a  native  of  Saudon  near  Stone — Darlaston  and  almost 
all  Stone  were  bought  by  James  Collier,  who  had  issue  Robert 
Collier,  who  had  issue  James  Collier  (deceased  when  Erdeswicke 
wrote),  who  sold  Stone  and  (probably)  Burweston  to  his  father-in- 
law  Sir  Robert   Ncedham,  of  Shavington,  co.  Salop,  and  Earl's 

1  The 'some'  of  the  items  is  only  56/.  3s.  lOrf.  Perhaps  the  ' guilt  Bnult '  (on 
which  xi  /.  was  lent)  and  *  8  spoone'  ought  to  have  been  entered  at  12/.  instead  of  2/., 
which  with  some  other  slight  alterations  would  bring  the  value  of  the  separate  items  to 
the  "  some  "  as  given  above. 

2  Tlie  very  next  column  in  the  Reg.  Book  begins:  Tertio  Die  Aprilis  1627,  still 
further  proving  that  the  immediately  prcceiling  *  6  March  *  was  also  1627. 


xviii  Introduction. 

Hyde  (now  called  Yarlet,  a  good  farm  near  Stone)  to  his  brother 
Christopher  Collier.  Ninety  years  later  James  Collier  of  Darlaston 
(1686)  sold  Darlaston  Manor  to  William  Jervis  of  Meaf  ord,  ancestor 
of  Lord  St.  Vincent,  whose  descendants  still  possess  it  (1875).  The 
Collier  pedigree  supplies  a  little  biographic  fact/  e.  g. 

James  Collier, 

Robert  Collier,=^Joyce,  dau.  of  Thomas 
mar.  1542.      |  Skrymsher. 


JL 
1 


....  Needham.= James  Collier,  of  Dar-        Elizabeth,  dau.  of=  James  Skrymsher; 

laston,  in  1583;  dead  Robert  Collier;       ra.  1571;  ob.  1619. 

in  1593.  ob.  1594. 

Thus  our  Richard  Barnfield  was  first  cousin  once-removed  to  the 
owner  of  Darlaston  Hall  in  Erdeswicke's  Survey,  and  the  owner  of 
it  in  his  time  was  his  second  cousin.  Whatever  our  Poet  was  when 
he  was  publishing  his  Poems  in  London,  it  would  appear  that,  like 
that  supreme  contemporary  with  whom  his  name  has  been  imperish- 
ably  associated  through  his  "  As  it  fell  vpon  a  day,"  he  retired  early 
to  the  country.  The  relationship  to  the  proprietors  of  Darlaston 
suggests  that  he  in  all  likelihood  leased  some  part  of  their  farm- 
lands from  the  Colliers,  if  indeed  his  aunt  (of  the  Epitaph)  did  not 
herself  provide  for  his  settlement  there.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that 
the  Registers  yield  no  information  on  his  wife,  who  must  have 
pre-deceased  him ;  nor  is  there  anything  as  to  either  his  son  Robert 
or  any  others.     The  curious  articles  of  legacies  permit  us  to  think 

^  There  is  a  difficulty  about  the  Collier  pedigree,  viz.,  that  while  Robert  Collier 
certainly  married  Joyce  Skrymsher  in  1542  (Norbury  Register),  and  her  father's  Will 
testifies  that  she  had  a  daughter ;  yet  the  Chetwynd  MSS.  in  the  Salt  Libraiy  and  the 
Visitation  of  Staffordshire  (1583)  both  make  Robert  Collier  marry  Agnes,  dau.  of  Sir 
Thomas  Venables  of  Kinderton  (co.  Chester),  and  make  Elizabeth,  wife  of  James 
Skrymsher  (the  Poet's  aunt)  his  eldest  daughter  by  her:  saying  nothing  at  all  of  his 
marriage  to  Joyce  Skrymsher.  He  had  five  sons  and  six  daughters,  so  that  it  seems  as 
likely  as  not  he  may  have  had  two  wives. 


Introduction. 


XIX 


that  the  Poet  of  the  "  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia  "  was  in  easy 
circumstances.  What  would  not  his  books  valued  at  5«.  fetch 
to-day ! 

Other  points  suggested  by  the  Will  may  now  be  briefly  noticed. 
Mr.  John  Skrymsher  of  Norbury  was  the  eldest  son  of  Barnfield's 
uncle  James  Skrymsher  by  his  third  wife  Eleanor  Hocknel  (or 
HockenhuU).  He  was  baptized  at  Norbury  23rd  October,  1600, 
and  was  married  before  his  father's  death  in  1619  to  Alice,  daughter 
of  Sir  Francis  Leigh  of  King's  Newnham,  co.  Warwick,  by  whom 
he  had  at  least  one  son,  John,  afterwards  Adjutant-General  to 
Prince  Rupert  and  Standard-bearer  of  the  Pensioners  to  Charles  II. 
John  Skrymsher  {pater)  followed  the  example  of  his  father  in 
marrying  three  times,  and  had  children  by  each  marriage.  He 
died  25th  March,  1667,  and  was  buried  at  Norbury  on  the  28th. 
Mr.  Henrie  HockenhuU  was  brother  to  Eleanor  third  wife  of  James 
Skrymsher — whose  executor  he  had  beeu  along  with  Barnfield's 
father  in  1619.  Charles  and  Gerard  Skrymsher  were  the  yoimger 
sons  of  James  and  Eleanor  Skrymsher  already  named.  Charles 
was  baptized  at  Norbury  29tli  March  1608.  He  is  named  thus 
in  his  father's  Will :  "To  Charles  my  son  my  black  nag  and  10*. 

to   go   forward  for   him My  Will   is   that   Mr.   Dudson 

of  Bromley  make  my  son  Charles  a  scholar  fit  for  Oxford  or 
Cambridge."  Gerard  became  a  physician,  and  lived  in  Wood- 
seaves  near  Norbury,  dying  there  2nd  October  1700,  in  his 
eighty-third  year.  Mrs.  Eleanor  Skrymsher  was  the  sister  of 
Charles  and  Gerard;  the  second  daughter,  but  eldest  unmarried 
at  this  time.  Baptized  at  Norbury  20th  November  1603,  she  could 
only  have  been  twenty-three  years  of  age  when  the  office  of 
executrix  was  imposed  upon  her.  This  latter  circumstance  shows 
(or  rather  hides)  a  singular  family-history,  especially  taken  along 
with  the  entire  omission  in  the  Will  of  paternal  relatives  while 
appointing  so  young  a  lady  as  his  cousin    for   co-executor  and 

c2 


XX  Introduction. 

residuary  legatee  with  his  son.^  It  is  significant  too  that  the 
lengthy  list  of  bequests  is  to  the  children,  brother,  and  sister-in- 
law  of  Eleanor  (Hockenhull)  Skrymsher.  We  are  far  off  and 
the  light  dim.  Perchance  the  Poet's  own  nearer  relations  were 
well-circumstanced  and  needed  nothing.'^  Sara  Bowyer  (spelt  Sarie 
Boeyer)  is  probably  the  same  as  Sara  fourth  daughter  of  James  and 

1  This  Eleanor  (or  Elinor),  daughter  of  James  Skrymsher  of  Korbury,  became  the 
second  wife  (out  of  four)  of  Thomas  Crompton  of  Stone,  ob.  167-,  and  had  issue  one 
daughter  Eleanor,  ob  s,p.  Of  a  Richard  Crompton,  "  Squire  of  Stone,"  it  is  recorded  that 
in  1581  he  came  into  church  "with  an  araunge  \_sic :  Owen  and  Blakeway  suggest  =  a 
sword  named  after  the  Prince  of  OrangeJ  by  his  side,  and  a  great  bastingdow  \_sic:  =  a 
bastinado  or  cudgel]  in  his  hand,"  and  called  to  the  minister  as  he  was  beginning  the 
service,  "  Sir  Hu,  come  hither;  I  must  first  talk  with  you  ere  you  begin;"  and  sent 
him  to  gaol  for  not  wearing  a  surplice,  nor  saying  the  prayers  in  the  accustomed  place, 
and  for  turning  himself  westward  instead  of  eastward  to  perform  the  service.  (Strype 
Ann.  vol.  iii.  p.  24,  quoted  in  Owen  and  Blakeway's  Hist,  of  Shrewsbury,  vol.  ii.  p.  350.) 
In  the  next  century  the  family  opinions  had  changed;  for  in  Symonds's  Diary  of  the 
Civil  Wars,  he  says,  "Thursday,  May  22  (1645).  Wee  marched  from  Drayton  to 
Stone  in  com.  Stafford;  his  Majesty  lay  at  Mr.  Crompton's  howse,  a  sweet  place  in  a 
fyne  parke — he  a  rebell.  Friday  the  army  rested.  Satterday  the  24.  Wee  marched 
to  Uttoxeter."  Be  it  noted  that  Mrs.  Crompton's  nephew,  while  her  husband  was 
making  himself  Jinown  as  "  a  rebel,"  was  acting  as  Standard-bearer  to  Prince  Eupert 
and  naming  his  sons  Charles  and  Rupert. 

2  A  variety  of  entries  in  the  Edgmond  register  show  the  Barnfield  family  history 
to  have  been  a  chequered  one.  The  name  is  found  among  respectable  humble  farmers 
of  their  own  lands.  Generosus  even  early  is  the  highest,  while  the  Skrymshers  are 
always  armiger.  It  is  to  be  hoped  Miss  Burne  may  see  her  way  to  add  an  exceedingly 
interesting  chapter  to  Shropshire  county  history  from  her  extensive  collections.  The 
Edgmond  Register  commences  in  1669  (preceding  ones  were  burnt  by  inadvertence),  and 
we  regret  that  we  cannot  utilize  entries  of  marriages,  &c.,  of  Barnfields  extending  from 
1672  to  1826  and  indeed  onward,  neither  the  Norbury  Tithe  Book  entries  of  same  dates. 
The  Parish  Clerk  of  Edgmond  remembers  "old  John  Barnfield,  as  lived  where  my 
brother  George  does,"  i.e.  in  a  little  homestead  in  the  village  with  a  few  acres  of  land, 
a  horse  and  cart,  and  perhaps  a  cow  or  two,  all  combined  by  the  present  owner  with 
shoemaking.  He  most  probably  farmed  his  own  lands,  as  did  John  Barnfield  and  his 
ancestors. 


Introduction. 


XXI 


Eleanor  Skrymsher,  baptized  at  Norbury  14th  February  1605-6 : 
married  at  Stone  to  Ludovic  Bowier,  1624.  Elizabeth  was  fifth 
daughter,  baptized  29th  March  1609  at  Norbury.  Martha  was 
apparently  another  daughter,  married  at  Stone  to  Francis  Collier, 
1638 ;  and  GriseU  still  another,  and  the  same  as  Grisell  Skiymsher 
married  at  Norbury  to  Ralph  Greene  12th  June  1634.  He  was  (it 
is  believed)  of  Loynton  Hall,  Norbury.  James  Skrymsher,  father 
of  all  these  fair  sisters,  left  "  my  capital  messuage  in  the  parish 
of  High  Offley,  co.  Staff.,"  and  "  all  debts  owing  to  me,  and  all 
goods  unbequeathed,  to  go  to  all  my  daughters  equally."  Cottrell 
was  the  name  of  a  respectable  family  at  Norbury — yeomen  or 
farmers.  Doody  is  a  common  name  about  Newport.  "  My  cozen 
Ranford"  is  untraced.  Hill  is  a  very  old  Edgmond  name.  Walton 
is  a  hamlet  close  to  Stone.  Finally,  the  transaction  with  the  Irish- 
man starts  questions  that  it  is  hopeless  to  try  to  answer. 

It  may  be  added  that  the  Will  as  deposited  in  Lichfield  Registry 
is  throughout  in  the  same  handwriting,  and  that  a  professional 
one,  not  the  testator's.  The  inference  is  that  the  original  was 
merely  exhibited,  as  was  at  the  date  a  common  practice,  and 
afterwards  returned,  probably  to  the  executors,  the  copy  being 
filed.  Here  the  name  of  Barnfield  appears  only  as  a  monogram. 
It  is  gratifying  that  we  have  been  enabled  to  give  an  exact  fac- 
simile of  it,  together  with  a  page  of  the  Isham  MS.  containing  a 
(possible)  full  autograph.  A  tabular  statement  of  the  Barnfield  and 
Skrymsher  Pedigrees — embracing  all  the  details  of  this  Introduction 
— is  given  as  an  Appendix.* 

II.  Bibliographical  and  Critical.  In  the  preceding  section 
of  this  Introduction  the  successive  books  of  our  Worthy  have 
been  necessarily  mentioned.  Here  it  is  deemed  well  to  enter 
into  more  minute  details  and  to  discuss  certain  matters  involved 

•  See  pages  xHv.-t. 

♦ 


xxii  Introduction. 

in  dispute  by  a  mistaken  inference  of  Mr.  J.  Payne  Collier, 
whereby  three  of  his  finest  poems  have  been  mis-assigned  to  Shake- 
speare. The  following  is  the  chronological  order  of  the  several 
publications  now  collected,  with  notes  of  each,  and  in  the  place 
critical  remarks  and  vindication  of  Barnfield's  authorship  of  "  As  it 
fell  vpon  a  day,"  &c.  &c. 

1.  The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  1594.  Sm.  4to.  28  leaves.* 
A  fac-simile  of  the  original  title-page  is  given  at  page  2.  It  shows 
that  the  printer  (lohn  Danter),  who  was  also  the  printer  for  Thomas 
Watson,  used  a  somewhat  rude  and  primitive  type.  The  quaint 
woodcut  ornament  occurs  elsewhere  in  contemporary  books.  It 
were  waste  of  pains  to  try  to  interpret  it.  Several  misprints 
("  slips "  the  old  apologists  called  them)  of  this  original  edition  are 
pointed  out  in  the  relative  Notes  and  Illustrations  at  close  of  our 
volume.  The  subsidiary  title  of  "The  Aifectionate  Shepheard," 
viz.  "  The  Teares  of  an  Affectionate  Shepheard,"  &c.  was  probably 
suggested  by  Watson's  "  The  Teares  of  Fancie,  or  Loue  Disdained." 
(1593.)  "  The  Affectionate  Shepheard  "  was  reprinted  in  1845,  as 
follows  :  "  The  Affectionate  Shepheard :  By  Hichard  Barnfield, 
A.D.  1594.  Edited  by  James  Orchard  Halliwell,  Esq.,  E.R.S. 
London.  Eeprinted  for  the  Percy  Society,  by  T.  Hichards,  100 
St.  Martin's  Lane,  m.dccc.xlv.  (Title-page,  pp.  vi.  and  51.) 
Eor  a  few  of  our  Notes  we  are  indebted  to  Mr.  Halliwell  (now 
Phillipps).  A  number  of  errors  of  the  Percy  text  are  silently 
corrected  from  a  careful  collation  of  the  original  in  Sion  College 
Library.  One  other  copy  only  is  known,  viz.,  that  at  Britwell. 
We  have  restored  "  Hellens  Rape,  or  a  Light  Lanthorne  for  Light 
Ladies.  Written  in  English  hexameters ; "  which  Mr.  Halliwell- 
Phillipps  excluded  ;  but  it  is  so  paged  in  succession  to  '*  The 
Affectionate  Shepheard  "  that  it  can  be  removed  without  inter- 

^  Mr.  Arber,  in  his  introduction  to  Thomas  Watson  mis-dates  this  1596. 


Introduction.  xxiii 

rupting  the  pagination.  Of  the  'conceit'  of  "The  Affectionate 
Shepheard"  the  Author  himself  furnishes  an  explanation  in  his 
epistle  "To  the  curteous  Gentleman  Readers  "  of  "  Cynthia,"  &c. 

2.  Cynthia,  with  certaine  Sonnets,  and  the  Legend  op 
Cassandra.  1595.  Sm.  12mo.  36  leaves.  A  fac-simile  of  the 
original  title-page  is  given  at  page  69.  The  publisher  it  will  be 
noticed  is  Humfrey  Lownes, — a  name  frequently  met  with  in 
poetical  title-pages,  e.g.  Spenser,  &c.  &c.  The  printing  is  neat, 
and  on  the  whole  creditably  accurate.  This  tiny  volume  was  re- 
printed not  very  accurately,  and  omitting  the  Sonnets  and  the 
celebrated  Ode,  by  Mr.  Utterson,  in  1841.  (16  copies).  In  four 
copies  the  omissions  were  in  part  supplied.  All  Mr.  Utterson's 
errors  have  been  corrected  and  the  entire  text  is  now  reproduced 
in  its  integrity.  But  here  it  is  necessary  to  call  attention  to 
a  curious  circumstance,  viz.,  that  Mr.  Collier,  in  marking  Utter- 
son's  misprints,  curiously  enough  himself  falls  into  error  in  five 
out  of  the  seven  enumerated  by  him  ;  e.  g.  He  notes  that 
Mr.  Utterson  misprints  in  the  Epistle  "  breed  "  as  "  reed,"  whereas 
it  is  misprinted  "  need ; "  again,  in  T.  T.'s  commendatory  verses 
the  misprint  is  not  "  reave  "  but  "  reawes ;"  and  for  "  reares  "  not 
"  reare ;"  once  more,  in  the  same  verse  Utterson's  misprint  is  said 
to  be  "waiving"  while  it  is  "waiting"  for  "waining;"  and  the 
much  more  serious  error  of  "  Here  "  for  "  Nere  "  is  entirely  over- 
looked— "  here  "  implying  an  insult,  "Nere "  a  fine  compliment,  to 
"  Cynthia :"  further,  in  the  opening  of  Cynthia  (st.  vii.  line  8)  the 
very  bad  misprint  of  "Honour"  is  for  "  Horrour,"  not  "horror;* 
finally,  Mr.  Utterson  has  not  corrected,  so  far  as  appears,  a  misprint 
of  "  that "  for  "they."  Other  misprints  Mr.  Collier  entirely  misses, 
and,  while  justly  reproving  Mr.  Utterson  for  omission  of  the 
twenty  Sonnets,  fails  to  observe  the  equally  weighty  omission  of  the 
famous  Ode  "  Nights  were  short  and  daies  were  long,"  &c.,  between 
"  Cynthia  "  and  "  Cassandra." 


xxiv  Introduction. 

In  the  Epistle  to  the  Readers — as  noticed  above — Barnfield 
avows  the  authorship  of  "  The  Affectionate  Shepheard,"  which  had 
been  published  anonymously ;  and  he  disavows  other  "  two  books  " 
that,  having  borne  the  initials  of  B.  B.,  had  been  erroneously 
ascribed  to  him;  which  "two  books"  were  probably  "Greene's 
Eunerals "  (1594)  and  "  Orpheus,  his  Journey  to  Hell."  The 
ascription  of  the  former  to  Barnfield  was  the  more  natural  in  that 
it  too  was  from  the  press  of  Danter  (publisher  of  "  The  Af- 
fectionate Shepheard").  Perhaps  the  change  of  publisher  for 
"  Cynthia  "  originated  in  Danter's  using  of  the  initials  R.  B. — 
reverse  probably  of  Barnabe  Rich's ;  albeit  the  mere  use  of  R.  B. 
can  scarcely  be  described  as  "  fraudently  affixed."  (Collier's  Bibl. 
Account,  i.  50 ;  iii.  17.) 

In  the  same  Epistle  he  "  vnshaddows  "  the  "  conceit  "  of 
"  The  Affectionate  Shepheard  "  by  explaining  that  it  is  "  nothing 
else  but  an  imitation  of  Virgill  in  the  Second  Eglogue  of  Alexis." 
Of  the  wider  bearing  of  this  more  elsewhere,  in  relation  to  Shake- 
speare's Sonnets.  Some  errors  of  the  original  text  are  indicated  in 
the  Notes  and  Illustrations,  as  before. 

3.  (a)  "  The  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia;"  (b)  "  The  Complaint 
of  Poetrie  for  the  Death  of  Liberalitie  ; "  (c)  "  The  Combat  betweene 
Conscience  and  Couetousnesse  in  the  Mind  of  Man ;"  (d)  "Poems  in 
Divers  Humors,"  1598,  sm.  4to.  31  leaves.  A  fac-simile  of  each  of 
these  four  (1598)  title-pages,  showing  the  symbol-hand  of  the  pub- 
lisher, John  Jaggard,  will  be  found  in  their  places.  At  page  131  is 
given  the  title-page  of  the  1605  edition.  Of  the  latter  edition  there  is 
a  slightly  damaged  copy  in  the  Bodleian,  and  a  fine  copy  at  Bridge- 
water  House.  Mr.  Collier  imagined  the  Bridgewater  exemplar 
was  unique.  Mr.  James  Boswell,  of  Auchinleck,  reprinted  the 
1598  edition,  and  presented  it  to  the  "  Roxburghe  Club  "  (1  vol. 
4to.  1816),  the  whole  impression  being  limited  to  thirty-five 
copies,  as  the   Editor  has  written  in   a  gift   copy  to   Barnfield's 


i 


Introduction.  xxv 

own  college  of  Brazenose.  Both  the  1598  and  1605  editions  of  the 
'*  Encomion,"  &c.,  without  the  "  Poems  of  Divers  Humors,"  have 
been  reprinted  by  Mr.  Collier.  The  "  Poems  of  Divers  Humors  " 
of  1598  contain  "  As  it  fell  upon  a  day,"  and  the  two  sonnets  "  To 
his  Priend  Maister  B.  L.  In  praise  of  Musique  and  Poetrie,"  and 
"  Against  the  Dispraisers  of  Poetrie."  Earlier,  as  Mr.  Halliwell 
approvingly  quoted  (1845)  in  his  preface  to  "  The  Affectionate  Shep- 
heard,"  Mr.  Collier  had  accepted  in  his  first  collection  of  Shakespeare 
(1843)  the  fact  of  the  publication  of  these  three  pieces  in  the 
volume  of  1598  as  proof  of  Barnfield's  authorship.  But  later  he 
changed  his  former  opinion— without  stating  that  former  opinion — 
and  now  as  Editor  of  Barnfield — for  otherwise  we  appreciate  too. 
highly  the  venerable  Worker's  long  and  multiplied  literary  services, 
spontaneously  to  undertake  the  task — it  is  laid  upon  us  to  prove  that 
throughout  he  is  in  error.  That  full  justice  may  be  done  to  Mr. 
Collier,  his  final  statement  of  the  case— repeated  abbreviatedly  in  his 
Preface  to  the  above-noted  reprints  of  the  '*  Encomion,"  &c. — from 
his  "  Bibliographical  and  Critical  Account  of  the  Barest  Books  in  the 
English  Language,"  2  vols.  8vo.  1865,  is  here  given  as  follows  :  **  It 
is  no  small  tribute  to  Barnfield  that  two  poems  printed  by  him,  or  for 
him,  in  1598,  having  in  the  next  year  been  inserted  in  Shakespeare's 
'  Passionate  Pilgrim,'  were  long  thought  by  many  to  be  the  property 
of  Barnfield,  on  account  of  his  priority  of  claim.  In  1598  the  fine 
sonnet  in  praise  of  Dowland  and  Spenser,  '  If  music  and  sweet 
poetry  agree,'  and  the  beautiful  lyric,  '  As  it  fell  upon  a  day,'  were 
first  published  as  Barnfield's  in  a  work  which  then  bore  the  following 
title  : — The  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia ;  or,  The  praise  of  Money— 
qucerenda pecuniaprimum est yVirtiL8 post nummoa.  London.  Printed 
by  G.  S.  for  lohn  laggard,  and  are  to  be  soldo  at  his  shoppe,  neere 
Temple-barre,  at  the  Signe  of  the  Hand  and  starre.  1598."  4to. 
*'  John  Jaggard,  who  published  the  above,  was  brother  to  William 


XX  vi  Introduction. 

Jaggard,  who  published  Shakespeare's  '  Passionate  Pilgrim,'  and 
in  some  unexplained  manner  the  two  poems  we  have  designated, 
'  If  music  and  sweet  poetry  agree,'  and  '  As  it  fell  upon  a  day,' 
the  authorship  of  our  great  dramatist,  found  their  way  out  of  the 
hands  of  W.  Jaggard  into  those  of  John  Jaggard,  who,  we  may 
suppose,  was  in  1598  on  the  point  of  publishing  Barnfield's 
*  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia ; '  there  he  inserted  them ;  but  they, 
nevertheless,  made  their  appearance  in  1599  in  '  The  Passionate 
Pilgrim,'  by  which  it  was  made  to  seem  as  if  W.  Jaggard  had 
stolen  the  poems  from  J.  Jaggard,  because  the  latter  had  printed 
them  as  Barnfield's  in  the  year  preceding.  The  reverse  was,  how- 
ever, the  fact ;  and  the  matter  stood  thus  doubtfully  until  the  year 
1605,  when  Barnfield  (perhaps  partly  on  this  account),  putting  forth 
a  new  impression  of  his  'Encomion,'  with  a  difierent  title,  and 
with  many  important  changes,  expressly  excluded  from  that  re- 
impression  the  two  poems,  which  he  knew  did  not  belong  to  him, 
and  which  he  presumed  were  the  property  of  Shakespeare. 

"  Hence  the  especial  value  of  the  second  edition  of  the  '  Enco- 
mion,' since  it  may  be  said  to  ascertain  that  John  Jaggard,  wish- 
ing to  swell  Barnfield's  small  volume  in  1598,  did  so  by  inserting 
in  it  two  pieces  that  did  not  belong  to  the  author  of  the  rest.  The 
second  edition  of  Barnfield's  '  Encomion,'  under  the  title  of 
'  Lady  Pecunia,  or,  the  praise  of  Money,'  was  not  known  at  all 
until  a  comparatively  recent  date ;  and  still  more  recently  it  was 
discovered  that  it  did  not  contain  the  poems  to  which  Barnfield 
seemed  to  have  the  earliest  title.  In  1605  Barnfield  was  too 
honest  to  retain  what  had  been  improperly  attributed  to  him  in 
1598.  The  sonnet  and  the  poem  are  therefore  not  to  be  traced  in 
the  volume  in  our  hands,  which  forms  part  of  the  library  at 
Bridgewater  House."     (Vol.  i.  pp.  57-8). 

In  this  statement  there  are  unhappily  many  mistakes,  e  g. 


Introduction. 


xxvii 


1.  It  is  made  to  seem  that  the  volume  of  1598  bore  the  general 
title  only  of  "The  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia,'"  &c.,  whereas — as 
at  page  186  of  our  volume  is  shown — there  is  a  special  section 
entitled  "  Poems  In  divers  Humors,"  and  therein  and  entirely 
distinct  from  the  '•'  Encomion  "  the  poems  in  question  appeared. 

2.  It  is  also  made  to  seem,  repeatedly,  that  the  volume  of  1598 
was  a  venture  of  John  Jaggard,  and  so,  that  "  If  musique  and 
sweet  poetry  agree  "  and  *'  As  it  fell  upon  a  day  "  were  inserted 
by  him,  and  by  him  only  ascribed  to  Barnfield.  The  simple  matter- 
of-fact  is  that  Barnfield  himself  not  only  entitles  the  section 
"  Poems  In  divers  Humors,"  but  in  a  separate  dedication  of  the 
section  explicitly  states  that  the  poems  belonging  to  it  were  his 
own,  like  aU  the  volume,  and  intimates  to  his  friend  Nicholas 
Blackleech  of  Grayes  Inne,  that  they  were  "  fruits  of  vnriper  years." 
It  will  be  seen  that  this  alters  the  entire  character  of  the  publication. 
Subsidiarily  it  is  not  very  logical  for  Mr.  Collier,  first  to  tell  us 
that  the  pieces  involved  were  "  two  small  poems "  and  then  to 
argue  that  they  were  inserted  to  '*  swell  Barnfield 's  small  volume." 
If  so  "  small " — and  they  are  small— the  "  swelling  "  could  not  be 
very  great.  On  the  other  hand,  '*  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  "  was 
an  omnium  gatherum  of  floating  poems  which  the  publisher  swelled 
out  from  every  available  source,  e.g.^  well-known  poems  of  Marlowe, 
Kaleigh,  and  Griffin,  were  all  ascribed  in  it  to  Shakespeare. 

3.  It  is  further  made  to  appear  that  the  second  impression  of 
1605  of  the  "  Encomion  "  reprinted  all  of  the  volume  of  1598  ex- 
cept the  two  poems  "  If  musique  and  sweet  poetry  agree  "  and 
"  As  it  fell  upon  a  day  ;"  whereas,  as  the  Reader  can  see  for  him- 
self, of  the  eight  poems  of  "  Poems  In  divers  Humors  "  only  two 
were  reprinted  by  the  Author  in  1605,  viz.  **  A  Comparison  of  the 
Life  of  Man"  and  "A  Remembrance  of  some  English  Poets;" 
i.e,t   Lines   "written  at   the  request   of    a    Gentleman,   vnder   a 

d2* 


xxviii  Introduction. 

Gentlewoman's  Picture;"  "An  Epitaph  vpon  the  Death  of  Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  Knight,  Lord-Governour  of  Vlissing ;"  "  An 
Epitaph  vpon  the  Death  of  his  Aunt,  Mistress  Elizabeth  Skrym- 
sher,"  as  well  as  the  Sonnet  to  R.  L.,  and  the  Ode,  were  not 
reprinted.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  see  why  the  two  pieces  were 
exceptionally  added,  for  they  fill  up  a  vacant  leaf  at  the  end  of  the 
new  edition  of  the  "  Encomion,"  &c. — a  new  edition  of  which  alone 
was  the  motif  oi  the  reproduction;  for  the  so-called  "many  important 
changes  "  of  Mr.  Collier  are  limited  to  the  changes  in  praise  of 
King  James  instead  of  the  former  praise  of  Elizabeth. 

4.  "  As  it  fell  upon  a  day  "  is  really  a  lighter  versification  of 
the  sentiments  throughout  of  the  "Encomion,"  as  the  hastiest 
reader  will  discern. 

E.  g.  of  the  two.     Eirst  from  the  "  Encomion  "  : — 

What  can  thy  hart  desire,  but  thou  may'st  haue  it, 
If  thou  hast  readie  money  to  disburse  ? 
Then  thanke  thy  Fortune,  that  so  freely  gaue  it ; 
For  of  all  friends,  the  surest  is  thy  purse. 

Friends  may  proue  false,  and  leaue  thee  in  thy  need  ; 

But  still  thy  Purse  will  bee  thy  friend  indeed. 

Admit  thou  come,  into  a  place  vnknowne  ; 
And  no  man  knowes,  of  whome,  or  what  thou  art : 
If  once  thy  faire  Pecunia,  shoe  bee  showne. 
Thou  art  esteem'd  a  man  of  great  Desart : 

And  placed  at  the  Tables  vpper  ende ; 

Not  for  thine  owne  sake,  but  thy  faithfull  frende. 

But  if  you  want  your  Ladies  louely  grace. 
And  haue  not  wherewithal!  to  pay  your  shot. 
Your  Hostes  pressently  will  step  in  Place, 
You  are  a  Stranger  (Sir)  I  know  you  not : 

By  trusting  Diuers,  I  am  run  in  Det ; 

Therefore  of  mee,  nor  meate  nor  Bed  you  get 


Introduction.  xxix 


0  who  can  then,  expresse  the  worthie  praise, 
Which  faire  Pecunia  iustly  doeth  desarue  ? 
That  can  the  meanest  man,  to  Honor  raise  ; 
And  feed  the  soule,  that  ready  is  to  starue. 

Affection,  which  was  wont  to  bee  so  pure, 

Against  a  golden  Siege,  may  not  endure.^ 

Next  for  the  «  Ode  "  ;— 

Whilst  as  fickle  Fortune  smilde, 
Thou  and  I,  were  both  beguilde. 
Euerie  one  that  flatters  thee. 
Is  no  friend  in  miserie  : 
Words  are  easie,  like  the  winde  ; 
Faithfull  friends  are  hard  to  finde  : 
Euerie  man  will  bee  thy  frend. 
Whilst  thou  hast  wherewith  to  spend  : 
But  if  store  of  Crownes  be  scant, 
No  man  will  supply  thy  want. 

5.  Throughout  Mr.  Collier  assumes  it  as  certain  that  "  The 
Passionate  Pilgrim "  of  1599  was  published  by  Shakespeare  him- 
self, and  that  therefore  it  was  *'  our  great  dramatist"  himself 
who  reclaimed  the  two  poems,  "  If  musique  and  sweet  poetry 
agree,"  and  "As  it  fell  upon  a  day;"  which  of  course  necessi- 
tates that   he    equally   claimed  as    his    own    the   now  admitted 

'  Long  before  Bamfield,  Himifrey  Gifford,  in  his  •'  Posie  of  Gillotlowers  "  (.580), 
had  said  in  his  fine  poem  "  In  the  praise  of  friendship  "  : — 
"  But  nowadayes  desire  of  worldly  pelfe, 
With  all  estates  makes  friendship  very  colde : 
Few  for  their  friendes,  ech  shifteth  for  himselfe  : 
If  in  thy  purse  thou  hast  good  store  of  golde, 
Foil  many  a  one,  thy  friendship  will  embrace  : 
Thy  wealth  once  spent,  they  tumo  away  their  face." 


XXX  Introduction. 

pieces  of  Marlowe  and  Raleigh,  Griffin,  and  others  !  This  is  so 
absurd,  that  one  admires  Mr.  Collier  was  not  prevented  by  it 
alone  from  publishing  his  inference.  There  is  not  a  tittle  of 
evidence  that  Shakespeare  had  any  knowledge  of  Jaggard's  volume 
entitled  "  The  Passionate  Pilgrim,"  and  no  one  of  any  critical 
capacity  will  disagree  with  Mr.  Dyce  in  his  verdict :  "  The 
Passionate  Pilgrim  appeared  in  1599,  with  Shakespeare's  name 
on  the  title-page,  containing  some  pieces,  which  are  known  not  to 
be  his,  and  others,  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  believe  that  he 
composed."  (Poems  of  Shakespeare,  p.  xxxix.,  ed.  1857.)  Earlier 
he  had  said,  similarly :  "  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  appears  to 
have  been  given  to  the  press  without  his  consent  or  even  his 
knowledge,  and  how  much  of  it  proceeded  from  his  pen  cannot 
be  distinctly  ascertained."  (1832  edition  of  Poems,  p.  Ixxvii.) 
Of  the  "pieces  which  we  know  not  to  be  his"  Mr.  Collier  stands 
alone  in  contesting  that  "  If  musique  and  sweet  poetry  agree " 
and  "  As  it  fell  upon  a  day  "  were  his  and  not  Barnfield's. 

6.  Mr.  Charles  Edmonds  in  his  Preface  to  his  excellent  reprint 
of  the  rare  Isham  copy  of  "  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  "  (1599)  observes 
effectively :  "  Although  in  that  age  literary  plagiarism  was  freely 
practised,  it  is  hardly  likely  that  an  author  of  repute  like  Barnfiekl 
would  be  so  bold  as  to  appropriate  the  whole  of  two  compositions 
of  peculiar  merit  written  by  another  ;  or  aggravate  a  fraud  liable  to 
instant  detection  by  such  an  unequivocal  claim  to  their  authorship 
as  he  puts  forth  in  his  address  to  Blackleech ;  and  the  improbability 
is  still  greater  when  we  consider  that  the  person  whom  he  is 
accused  of  robbing  was  not  only  the  most  noted  writer  of  the  time, 
but  then  actually  living,  and  the  object,  on  the  very  next  page,  of 
his  fervent  eulogy.  And  that  this  good  feeling  was  not  interrupted 
is  evidenced  by  his  reprinting  the  same  eulogy  in  his  second 
impression,  which  would  hardly  have  been  the  case  had  he,  years 


Introduction.  xxxi 

before,  been  guilty  towards  Shakespeare  of  so  unblushing  a  wrong. 
Moreover,  his  disinclination  to  have  the  labours  of  others  assigned 
to    him    is   shown  by  his    disavowal   in    his    earlier  production, 

*  Cynthia,'  printed  in  1595,  of  two  books  imputed  to  him  (probably 
Greene's  '  Funerals,*  1594,  and  "  Orpheus  his  Journey  to  Hell," 
1595),  to  which  his  initials  R.  B.  seem  to  have  been  fraudulently 
affixed.  Nor  is  it  the  case  of  an  unknown  or  incapable  poet 
robbing  his  neighbour  of  that  which  he  was  himself  unable  to 
produce,   for    sufficient    poetic    talent    had    been    shown    in    his 

*  Affectionate  Shepheard,'  published  in  1594,  when  only  twenty- 
one  years  old,  and  bis  subsequent  poems  fully  sustain  this  early 
promise."     (pp.  xviii.  xix.) 

7.  Mr.  Collier — as  has  been  seen — examined  Mr.  Utterson's 
reprint  of  "  Cynthia  "  so  hastily,  that  while  he  missed  the  Sonnets 
he  did  not  miss  the  relatively  long,  vivid,  and  memorable  poem 
of  "  Nights  were  short,  and  daies  were  long."  This  it  is  the 
more  important  to  emphasize,  inasmuch  as  it  is  identical  in  its 
whole  character  with  "As  it  fell  vpon  a  day."  Besides,  in- 
ternally, rhymes  and  rhythm  and  wording  of  "As  it  fell  vpon  a 
day  "  agree  with  this  and  his  other  pastoral  pieces  in  England's 
Helicon. 

Thus,  1.  Barnfield  himself,  and  not  as  alleged  by  Mr.  Collier,  John 
Jaggard,  published  the  two  poems  in  question.  2.  Barnfield  himself 
expressly  states  his  authorship  of  them  in  his  "  unriper "  years. 
3.  Barnfield  himself,  by  the  title-page  of  the  1605  reprint  of  the 
"  Encomion "  and  by  the  character  of  the  few  changes  and  cor- 
rections therein,  tacitly  reveals  that  it  was  in  order  to  address  the 
King  he  reprinted  it — not  as  caring  to  reproduce  the  whole, 
any  more  than  did  Drayton  or  Daniel  or  others,  in  similar  new 
impressions  of  their  poems.  4.  "As  it  fell  vpon  a  day"  only  repeats 
sentiments  previously  given  in  the  "  Encomion."     6.  Shakespeare 


xxxii  Introduction. 

never  claimed  the  two  poems ;  and  the  materials  of  the  "  Passionate 
Pilgrim"  of  1599  are  a  miscellany  from  various  writers.  6.  Barnfield's 
fine  praise  of  Shakespeare  shows  he  had  too  high  regard  for  his 
mighty  contemporary  to  perpetrate  such  a  wrong  as  to  appropriate 
two  of  his  poems,  while  his  disavowal  of  other  "  two  books  "  certifies 
his  conscientiousness.  Pinally,  7.  The  two  poems  are  exactly  of  the 
same  type  with  his  other  poems.  Thus  the  outward  facts  and  circum- 
stances and  the  internal  evidence  harmonize  in  utterly  and  without 
shadow  of  hesitation,  setting  aside  Mr.  Collier's  inference  from  the 
"  second  impression  "  of  1605. 

Besides  these  broader  mistakes  and  mis-statements  there  are 
other  errors  in  Mr.  Collier's  account ;  but  it  does  not  seem  neces- 
sary to  say  more. 

With  reference  to  the  Ode  "As  it  fell  vpon  a  day"  itself, 
Mr.  Collier  has  made  other  mistakes  about  it ;  e.  g.  because  in 
"  England's  Helicon  "  (1600)  it  appears  in  a  truncated  form,  viz. 
ending  with  the  line 

Careless  of  thy  sorrowing, 

he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  lines  as  therein  given  formed 
and  were  intended  to  form,  an  independent  poem,  and  that  those 
which  follow  in  Barnfield's  own  "  Poems  In  diners  Humors " 
similarly  formed,  and  were  meant  to  form,  a  second  poem.  It  is 
plain  that  the  original  collector  of  "England's  Helicon"  by  an  over- 
sight stopped  short  at  the  bottom  of  a  page  when  he  transcribed 
his  portion,  not  looking  further ;  and  it  is  also  plain  that  he  added 
the  well-known  couplet : 

Even  so,  poore  bird  like  thee, 
None  alive  will  pitty  me. 

as  feeling  the  abruptness  of  the  close  as  he  had  mutilated  it.  How- 
ever good  in  itself,  the  couplet  is  not  at  all  called  for  when  the  Ode 


Introduction.  xxxiii 

is  read  continuously.  Notwithstanding  this,  Mr.  Collier  thus  writes 
and  re- writes  :  (a)  In  his  first  edition  of  Shakespeare,  1843,  vol.  viii. 
note.  pp.  577-8:  "Whilst  as  fickle  fortune  smiled" — "It  is  a 
separate  production,  both  in  subject  and  place,  with  a  division 
between  it  and  Barntield's  poem,  which  precedes  it ;  nevertheless, 
they  have  been  incautiously  coupled  in  some  modern  editions ; " 
{b)  In  his  second  edition,  1858,  vol.  vi.  p.  692,  note — after  he  had 
changed  his  opinion  that  Barnfield  was  the  rightful  owner  of  the 
first  portion :  "  It  is  a  separate  production,  both  in  subject  and 
place,  with  a  slight  division  (but  no  heading)  between  it  and  the 
poem  which  precedes  it ;  nevertheless  they  have  been  coupled  in 
some  modern  editions,  most  likely  because  they  are  found  erroneously 
united  in  Barnfield's  •  Encomion,'  1598." 

We  cannot  agree  with  Mr.  Collier  in  dividing  into  two  this 
consummate  Ode,  or  with  his  emendation  in  the  Sonnet  at  end 
of  "  The  Affectionate  Shepheard."  In  line  4  he  says,  "  Surely 
the  last  line  ought  to  run  *  Nipt  with  the  frost  of  thy  rath 
winter  dies.'  ?  (Bibl.  Account,  ii.  166.)  But,  in  order  to  support 
his  new  reading,  he  alters  "Wrath's  winter"  to  "wrath  winter," 
as  though  it  read  "wrath."  Had  it  been  so  there  might  have 
been  some  show  of  reason,  but  as  it  is  there  surely  is  none. 
"  Fresh  "  is=freshet,  or  the  sudden  tcmpestuousness  (as  in  winter) 
of  her  wrath.  The  Author's  own  text  is  thus  quite  correct,  viz. 
"  Nipt  with  the  fresh  of  thy  wrath's  winter  dies." 

4.  From  England's  Helicon,  1600.     See  our  Note  at  p.  196. 

5.  The  Isham  MS.     See  our  Note  at  p.  200. 

The  Isham  MS.  seems  to  us  to  vary  in  the  dates  of  its  hand- 
writing, but  to  be  all.  or  nearly  all,  from  one.  Yet  there  are  care- 
lessnesses of  writing  that  make  one  doubt  that  it  was  a  copyist 
following  a  somewhat  puzzling  original  MS.  rather  than  the  Author 
himself.  The  Lines  to  Sir  John  Spenser  have  the  name  "  Rich. 
Barnfild"  so  very  neatly  executed  tliat  it  seems  no  great  risk  to 


xxxiv  Introduction. 

pronounce  it  his  autograph.  Accordingly  it  is  given  in  fac-simile 
beside  the  monogram  in  his  Will. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  the  Latin  (incomplete)  lines  on 
Tarquin  and  Lucrece  are  original  or  extracted.  Perchance  he 
sought  to  celebrate  the  incident  that  Shakespeare  had  just  made 
imperishable.  There  is  a  snatch  of  grace  in  the  wording.  "The 
Shepherdes  Confession  "  so  runs  parallel  with  "  The  Affectionate 
Shepheard"  and  other  pastoral  pieces  as  to  assert  its  origin- 
ality. (Cf.  the  enumerated  possible  "  gifts,"  II.  St.  vii.-xvii. 
&c.)  There  are  regretable  touches  in  it.  The  quaint  "  Laws  " 
(p.  209)  of  the  "  order  of  y*'  Snuffe  "  was  intended  doubtless  as  a 
satire  on  the  ceremonial  of  contemporary  knighthood,  which  was 
then  a  venal  honour.  The  poem  of  Tichborne  (p.  210)  gives 
noticeable  variations  from  the  common  text  (as  in  Dr.  Hannah's 
"Courtly  Poets"),  while  the  answer  is  historically  interesting  if 
harder  and  harslier  than  at  this  softened  distance  we  can  approve. 
The  Author's  patriotic  love  for  the  great  Queen  explains  his 
passionate  retort.  The  lines  of  a  "  Wife  "  (p.  213)  are  found  in 
several  MSS.  anonymously ;  but  nowhere  it  is  believed  the  "Answer." 
The  Sonnet-like  verses  to  Sir  John  Spenser,  (slightly  altered,) 
were  prefixed  to  the  1605  impression  of  "The  Encomion."  The 
poem  un-headed,  "There  is  a  thinge  y*  much  is  vsd,"  has  a  fami- 
liar sound ;  but  just  now  we  cannot  recall  any  prior  copy  of  it. 
The  "  Epitaphium  "  is  a  not  very  correct  copy  of  Ben  Jonson's 
famous  Epitaph  on  Salathiel  Pavy,  a  child  of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
Chapel  (Epigrams,  cxx.)  The  closing  Epigram  is  of  the  type  of  Sir 
John  Davies's  and  Henry  Hutton's. 

Turning  to  these  Poems  of  Richard  Barnfield  as  such — not  as 
mere  bibliographical  rarities — it  is  unnecessary  to  detain  the  Reader 
very  long  from  them.  The  characterising  element  is  a  sweet 
breath  of  "  pastoral,"  as  his  friend  Meres  noted.  Whether  in  "The 
Affectionate  Shepheard  "  or  in  the  Odes  "  Nights  were  short  "  and 


Introduction. 


XXXV 


"As  it  fell  vpon  a  day,"  or  "The  Vnknowne  Shepheard's  Complaint," 
or  "  The  Shepheard's  Sonnet,"  or  in  his  more  purely  ethical  verse, 
or  in  the  "  Encomion"  and  "Legend  of  Cassandra,"  his  most  sponta- 
neous utterances  are  of  rural  sights,  and  sounds,  and  scents.  It  is 
like  to  taking  a  walk  along  a  May-thorn  hedged  lane,  or  under  a 
Lime-tree  aisle,  or  couching  beside  a  meadow  sloping  down  to  a  nut- 
brown  river,  to  take  up  the  pastoral  poems  enumerated.  The  tran- 
quillity of  ancient  life  in  this  our  England  in  the  country  comes  over 
one,  and  very  sweet  and  musical  is  the  breaking  of  the  silence.  It 
were  literary  sacrilege  to  quote  from  any  of  the  Odes.  They  are  to 
be  read  and  re-read  in  their  dainty  and  freshening  completeness.  On 
so  doing  the  felicity  of  T.  T.'s  commendatory  designation  of  our  Poet, 
"icfrA;e-mounting  Muse  "  will  be  felt.  There  is  no  little  of  the  Lark's 
trill  and  fine  tremulousness  in  him.  How  inevitable  was  his  pene- 
trative vision  of  the  outward  world  of  visible  things  will  appear, 
if  in  studying  these  poems  heed  be  taken  to  incidental  descriptions 
and  occasional  epithets.  Even  "  The  Affectionate  Shepheard  "  has 
rare  bits  of  colour  '.e.g. 

Scarce  had  the  Morning  Starre  hid  from  the  light 

Heaxten^s  crimson  canopie  with  stars  bespangled  ....     (St.  i.) 

Night  her  siluer  light  had  lockt  in  prison, 

Which  gaue  a  glimmering  on  the  christall  fountaines.  ' 

the  Christall  of  a  Pearle-bright  brooke, 

Pau^d  with  dainty  pibbles  to  the  brims.     (A  S.  St.  xxii.) 

dainty  Shelters  when  the  Welkin  lowers : 

Sweet-smelling  Beds  of  Lillies,  and  of  Roses, 

Which  Rosemary  banks  and  Lauender  incloses. 

There  growcs  the  Gilliflowre,  the  Mynt,  the  Dayzie, 

( Both  red  and  white,)  the  blew-veynd- Violet ; 

The  purple  Hyacinth,  the  Spyko  to  please  tlieo, 

The  scarlet  dyed  Carnation  bleeding  yet    (Ibid.  St  xxix-xxx.) 

In  which  delight  feeding  mine  hungry  eye.    (Cynthia,  St.  viii.) 
e2 


xxxvi  Introduction. 

Like  Pearles  ycouched  all  in  shining  gold.     (Ibid.  St.  xix.) 
Rayning  downe  pearle  from  his  immortall  eies.    (Cassandra,  p.  106 

Similarly  throughout :  in  most  unexpected  places  there  is  flush 
of  transfiguring^  colour  and  carol  as  of  a  bird.  Many  of  the  epithets 
of  these  poems  have  since  become  trite  through  repetition ;  but  our 
Poet  was  among  the  earliest  to  select  them.  It  is  then  as  the 
"  sweet  singer  "  of  the  two  Odes,  "  Nights  were  short "  and  "  As  it 
fell  vpon  a  day,"  and  others  manifesting  the  same  qualities,  that 
Barnfield  is  to  be  remembered  in  our  poetic  literature.  Who  values 
Daniell's,  and  Drayton's,  and  Constable's,  and  Herrick's  fairy  and 
rural  poetry  must  value  his  Odes  and  shepherd-verse,  alike  for  their 
dewy  brightness  and  their  idiomatic  un-archaic  English. 

Another  element  of  interest  in  these  poems  is  his  sympathetic 
allusions  to  illustrious  contemporaries.  We  have  already  seen  that 
"  The  Affectionate  Shepheard  "  is  dedicated  to  the  Lady  E/ich,  the 
"  immortal  Stella  "  of  Sidney,  and  that  prepares  us  for  his  tribute  to 
Sir  Philip  Sidney.  That  tribute  has  been  quoted  (p.  xii.)  Its 
companion-praise  of  Thomas  Watson  is  as  follows.     (St.  xix.) : 

And  thou,  my  sweete  Amintas,  vertuous  minde, 

Should  I  forget  thy  Learning  or  thy  Loue, 

Well  might  I  be  accounted  but  vnkinde, 

Whose  pure  affection  I  so  oft  did  proue : 

Might  my  poore  Plaints  hard  stones  to  pitty  moue, 
His  losse  should  be  lamented  of  each  creature, 
So  great  his  Name,  so  gentle  was  his  Nature. 

But  sleepe  his  soule  in  sweet  Elysium 

"Amintas"  refers  to  his  '' Amyntce  Gaudia"  (1592),  and  his 
"Love"  as  celebrated  in  his  "Teares  of  Eancie,  or  Loue  Disdained  "  ^ 

^  It  is  the  more  important  to  reclaim  '  Amyntas  '  for  Thomas  AVatson  and  not 
Abraham  Fraunce,  who  merely  translated  (and  very  badly)  Watson,  in  that  Mr.  Charles 
Edmonds,  in  his  Introduction  to  the  Isham  "  Passionate  Pilgrime  "  (pp.  xxiii-iv.),  has 
assigned  the  tribute  to  Fraunce.  Beyond  all  doubt  this  is  an  error,  as  the  whole 
allusions  prove. 


1 


Introduction.  xxxvii 

(1593).^  It  is  pleasant  to  have  this  memorial  of  personal  friendship 
"often  proved"  and  of  Watson's  ^^ gentle  nature."  But,  passing 
from  these  almost  accidental  celebrations,  there  are  the  two  Sonnets 
of  "  If  musique  and  sweet  poetry  agree "  and  "  Against  the 
Dispraysers  of  Poetrie,"  with  their  hearty  recognition  of — not 
Dowland  and  Linch  and  King  James  merely,  but— of  the  elder 
Singers,  as  Chaucer  and  Gower,  Sidney  and  Gascoigne.  Then  there 
is  the  priceless  "  A  E-emembrance  of  some  English  Poets,"  to  which 
Dr.  Ingleby  has  assigned  a  deserted  place  in  his  "  Shakespeare's 
Centurie  of  Prayse  "  (1874).     It  must  appear  here  : — 

Liue  Spenser  euer,  in  thy  Fairy  Queene : 
Whose  like  (for  deepe  Conceit)  was  neuer  seene : 
Crownd  mayst  thou  bee,  vnto  thy  more  renowne, 
(As  King  of  Poets)  with  a  Lawrell  Crown e. 

And  Daniellj  praised  for  thy  sweet-chast  Verse : 
Whose  Fame  is  grav'd  on  Rommonds  blacke  Herse. 
Still  mayst  thou  liue  :  and  still  be  honored, 
For  that  rare  Worke,  The  White  Rose  and  the  Red. 

And  Drayton,  whose  wel-written  Tragedies, 
And  sweete  Epistles,  soare  thy  fame  to  skies. 
Thy  learned  Name,  is  asquall  with  the  rest ; 
Whose  stately  Numbers  are  so  well  addrest. 

And  Shakespeare  thou,  whose  honey-flowing  Vaine, 
(Pleasing  the  World)  thy  Praises  doth  obtaine. 
Whose  Vemis,  and  whose  Lucrece  (sweete,  and  chaste) 
Thy  Name  in  fames  immortall  Booke  haue  plac't. 
Liue  euer  you,  at  least  in  Fame  liue  euer : 
Well  may  the  Bodye  dye,  but  Fame  dies  neuer. 

^  Mr.  Arber,  like  others,  oTerlooked  this  fuller  praise,  and  noticed  only  the  incidental 
reference  in  St.  xxxiii. 


xxxviii  Introduction. 

It  is  of  moment  to  note  two  parallels  in  his  other  poems  with 
the  close  of  the  "  Rememhrance." 

Fame  and  Vertue  neuer  shall  decay : 


For  Fame  is  toombles,  Virtue  liues^for  aye.     (A.  S.  II.  St.  xxxvi.) 

But  Fame  and  Virtue  neuer  shall  decay, 

For  Fame  is  Toomblesse,  Virtue  liues  for  aye.    (L.  of  C.  St.  ix.) 

From  the  "  remembrance  "  of  Shakespeare,  simply  as  the 
"  honey-flowing  "  poet  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  and  Lucrece,  the  date 
of  this  Sonnet  must  be  placed  much  earlier  than  its  publication 
(1598). 

There  are  now  and  again  memorable  lines  and  couplets  :  e.g. — 

0  would  to  Grod  (so  I  might  haue  my  fee) 

My  lips  were  honey,  and  thy  mouth  a  Bee.    (A.  S.  I,  St.  xvi.) 

Thus  doo  I  honour  thee  that  loue  thee  so. 

And  loue  thee  so,  that  so  doo  honour  thee.     (A.  S.  St.  xxxix.) 

Oh  pittie  him,  that  pittie  cranes  so  sweetly.     (A.  S.  II.  St.  iv.) 

With  Phoenix  feathers  shall  thy  face  be  fand. 
Cooling  those  Cheekes,  that  being  cool'd  were  red, 
Like  Lillyes  in  a  bed  of  Roses  shed.     (II.  St.  xvii.) 

Oh  let  me  then  with  Thy  sweete  lips  b'  inspired.     {Ibid.  St.  xviii.) 

Pride  looks  aloft,  still  staring  on  the  starves, 
HumiUty  loohs  lowly  on  the  ground.     (II.  St.  xxxii.) 

Humility  in  misery  is  relieu'd 

But  Pride,  in  neede,  of  no  man  is  regarded.     {Ibid.  St.  xxxiv.) 

Thy  talke  will  shew  thy  fame  or  els  thy  shame ; 

(A  prattling  tongue  doth  often  purchase  blame.)    {Ibid.  St.  Ixii.) 


Introduction.  xxxix 

Nothing  more  certaine  than  incertainties.     (A.  S.  III.  St.  xi.) 

Whose  lonely  Cheeks  (with  rare  vermilion  tainted) 

Can  neuer  blush,  because  their  face  is  painted.    (C.  of  C.  St.  i.) 

A  Saint  in  show,  and  yet  indeed  a  deuill.     {Tbid.  St.  v.) 

Besides  these  there  are  occasional  wise  moral  saws  and  counsels 
such  as  are  found  earlier  in  Thomas  Tusser  and  later  in  George 
Herbert :  e.g. — 

Sweare  no  vain  oathes ;  heare  much,  but  little  say  ; 
Speak  ill  of  no  man,  tend  thine  owne  affaires. 
Bridle  thy  wrath,  thine  angrie  mood  delay  ; 
(So  shall  thy  minde  be  seldom  cloyd  with  cares :) 

Be  milde  and  gentle  in  thy  speech  to  all, 

Refuse  no  honest  gaine  when  it  doth  fall. 

Be  not  beguild  with  words,  proue  not  vngratefuU, 
Releeue  thy  neighbour  in  his  greatest  need. 
Commit  no  action  that  to  all  is  hateful!. 
Their  want  with  welth,  the  poore  with  plentie  feed  : 

Twit  no  man  in  the  teeth  with  what  th'  hast  done ; 

Remember  flesh  is  fraile,  and  hatred  shunne. 

Leaue  wicked  things,  which  Men  to  mischiefe  moue, 

(Least  crosse  mis-hap  may  thee  in  danger  bring,) 

Craue  no  preferment  of  thy  heauenly  loue, 

Nor  anie  honor  of  thy  earthly  King : 

Boast  not  thyselfe  before  th'  Almightie's  sight, 
(Who  knowes  thy  hart,  and  anie  wicked  wight.) 

(A.  S.  II.  St.  Ivi.— Iviii.) 

It  is  scarcely  probable,  yet  not  impossible,  that  the  "sweet 
Singer "  of  Bemerton  knew  *'  The  Affectionate  Shepheard,"  but 
sentiment,  and  form,  and  rhythm  of  these  and  many  more  that 


xl  Introduction. 

immediately  follow,  unite  in  recalling  "  The  Churcli  Porch,"    as 
thus :  — 

Take  not  His  name,  Who  made  thy  mouth,  in  vain : 
It  gets  thee  nothing,  and  hath  no  excuse, 
Lust  and  wine  plead  a  pleasure,  avarice  gain  : 
But  the  cheape  swearer  through  his  open  sluice 

Lets  his  soul  run  for  nought,  as  little  fearing : 

Were  I  an  Epicure,  I  could  bate  swearing, 

Lie  not ;  but  let  thy  heart  be  true  to  God, 

Thy  mouth  to  it,  thy  actions  to  them  both ; 

Cowards  tell  lies,  and  those  that  fear  the  rod  ; 

The  stormy  working  soul  spits  lies  and  froth. 
Dare  to  be  true.  Nothing  can  need  a  lie : 
A  fault  which  needs  it  most  grows  two  thereby. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney  might  have  put  this  into  his  "  Arcadia,"  of 
the  shepherd : — 

He  sits  all  Day  lowd-piping  on  a  Hill, 
The  whilst  his  flocke  about  him  daunce  apace. 
His  hart  with  ioy,  his  eares  with  Musique  fill : 
Anon  a  bleating  Weather  beares  the  Bace, 
A  lambe  the  Treble,  and  to  his  disgrace 

Another  answers,  like  a  middle  Meane, 

Then  euery  one  to  beare  a  Part  are  faine.     (A.  S.  III.  St.  xxi.) 

And  again  of  the  same : — 

What  though  with  simple  cheere  he  homely  fares, 
He  Hues  content, — a  King  can  doo  no  more ; 
Nay,  not  so  much,  for  Kings  haue  manie  cares : 
But  he  hath  none,  except  it  be  that  sore 
Which  yong  and  old,  which  vexeth  ritch  and  poore. 

The  pangs  of  loue.     0  !  who  can  vanquish  Loue  ? 

That  conquers  Kingdomes,  and  the  Gods  aboue.  (Ibid.  St.  xxxi.) 


Introduction.  xli 

Robert  Burns  gave  the  same  opinion  in  his  "  A  man's  a  man 
for  a'  that,"  when  lie  asked,  "  What  though  on  homely  fare  we 
dine?" 

Altogether  it  is  surely  to  supply  a  real  desideratum  thus  to 
collect  the  Poems  of  Richard  Barnfield,  and,  without  asserting 
*  great '  claims  for  him,  to  count  on  his  admission  to  the  glorious 
company  of  England's  "Makers."  I  say  no  more,  for  in  the  words  of 
dear  old  Thomas  Fuller,  in  his  dedication  of  Joseph's  Party-coloured 
Coat  (1640), — "  First,  I  account  it  beneath  my  calling  to  speak 
anything  above  the  truth :  secondly,  because  it  is  needless.  Let 
deformed  faces  be  beholden  to  the  painter  ;  Art  hath  nothing  to  do 
where  Nature  hath  prevented  it." 

III.  Editorial.  Our  principle  has  been — as  invariably — ^o 
reproduce  the  text  of  the  Author  in  absolute  integrity.  The  punctu- 
ation especially,  but  for  this,  we  would  have  corrected  in  the  text 
preferably.  In  the  Notes  and  Illustrations  errors  of  the  original 
are  recorded  and  elucidations  given.  Thither  the  Reader  is  referred 
for  anything  else  requiring  to  be  said.  And  so  "  gentle  Reader  " 
look  lovingly  on  the  volume  put  into  your  hands. 

Care  not how  lowe  your  praises  lye ; 

In  labourers'  ballats  oft  more  pyety 

Gwl  finds  than  in  Te  DeunCs  mellodye."  ' 

Alexander  B.  Grosart. 

'  Donne  to  Coantcss  of  Bedford.    Poems  in  Fuller  Worthies*  Library,  ii.  46. 


/ 


APPENDIX. 


^   A. 

Edgcomhe  and  Edgmond.  —  (page  vi.  line  15).  Prom  the 
circumstance  that  the  Barnfields  were  originally  of  Devonshire, 
and  from  the  thoroughly  Devonian  word  '  combe '  (in  Edgcomft^), 
some  may  be  disposed  to  question  the  possibility  of  such  a  mistake 
as  writing  Edgmond  for  Edgcomhe.  But  that  Edgmond,  and  not 
the  Devon  Mount  Edgcumbe  near  Plymouth,  was  intended,  appears 
unquestionably  from  the  ascertained  facts  tliat  the  whole  of  the 
marriages  of  the  Barnfield  family  point  to  Edgmond  in  Shropshire, 
not  to  Devonshire.  Our  many  entries  show  that  for  centuries  the 
Barnfields  were  settled  at  Edgmond.  Moreover,  in  the  Barnfield 
pedigree  among  the  Morris  MSS.  at  Eyton  Hall  the  mistake  of 
Edgcomhe  does  not  occur,  nor  in  the  Salt  Library  MSS. — G. 


/2 


•  4i 


xliv 


PQ 


m 

O 

W 

o 

pi 


Ih— 


■a  § 

Hg 


^B 


ffpa 

^.S 

-^S 

-'^'r-i 

S  TJ 

-^^ 

^-1 

pW 

o-o 

w  * 


PhW 


II 


< 
Ih- 


«'2:i 


II— ^ 


C  -C 

g  fe:S 

^2  8 

•H     ^     OP 

S   3    II 


;f^  ? 


p   »   03    03   >-. 


05  *^     f^ 


''.si 


9  fl  2 


WS 


o 

o 

§ 

-(^ 

z 

T3 

T3 

^ 

o; 

o 

3 

tJ3 

^H 

F*'       t-J 

C 

0^ 

C    00 

S 

si 

i2  «5 

o 

ft3  -- 

>, 

c 

03 

>, 

X=P 

03 

d  X 

It- 

r 

3^ 

tc 

tt 

tJ 

*;- 

V 

w 

s 

^H 

E 

o 

"• 

c^ 

13  T3 

t- 

0^ 

c 

U3 

V 

o 

1— < 

1-    ^ 

03 

-c 

>-• 

n 

tf 

o- 

Tj 

^^     1 

^ 
^ 

•£2 

^-s 

o 

>o  «c 

u 

r-.  r-l 

t?  c, 


ceqta  ^  03 J3 


*-;  PQ  j:  ;^  X 


t 

til  .'-s 

1)  l4        I 

— P5  o  3  ^  'S 


^s  c  B 


Ih 


Ph  ,33    OS  "^ 

I       <;  ►-(  ^  .^ 
03  5r  -*  ■«  ^^ 

L  — z,  c;  »o  oj  CO 

.pQxi-:  T3 


3  ^ 

.   O   D- 


il-H 

.P3   03 


§2 


2  bo 


on 

)-i  13    O 
03     4J     »! 

CO:;: 
OPS 


o  _  o  r:  T> 
a  S  — 'w  t- 
^-^rz    •  - 

«   O   S   c  ~ 


xlv 


32 


If-- 


W 

o 

l-H 

K 


Ih i 


O  o 


0-5 


°  a 


'-O 


I    «« 


13  a,  J-  « 

-3    2;  -SCO  V 

Ih     ..    •>  a>  o 

c5  a>  4>  -K  - 


-   :S   u  u 

I ^-o    ...  ^• 


o  f  fc  b 

\,J   I-   o 

J-  cc  ia  ^  0-: 


£  2  c  "  "" 
^  •*  o;  -C  _^. 

O    u  vt«  —  ►, 

, s  o  o    .  •„ 

.  <,     u  r-.  _S 


2  >>« 

?5  <»  i2  ^'  i; 
■»  !3  S  a 

•-   s!  «*-  5  -^ 


Ih 


>  S  o"0    . 
J<  M-i  ^  >a 


-aj  2   §   M    • 


fc.    &»  SI  ■- 


.5  — 


iSS 


— Kas  E  "•5 


60 

^ 

d 

0 

1 

^ 

B 

ei 

O 

V) 

t. 

0) 

^5 

E 

H 

S 

cr 

03 

E 

2 

H 

c 

t> 

§ 

cc 

V 

o 

c 

u 

S 

5 

"m 

o 

s 

^ 

'* 

C  J 


S53 


^ 

M 

sS 

01 

•a 

n 

aT 

V 

S< 

s 

S 

o 

c>i 

-^ 

lO 

•* 

t 

.s  s 


^  ^  «■!  — 


fl' 


-^.: 


I.    THE  AFFECTIONATE  SHEPHEARD. 

1594. 


Note. — The  original  title-page  of  "  The  Affectionate  Shepheard,"  &c.,  is  given 
opposite  in  fac-simile.  Our  text  is  from  the  copy  preserved  in  Sion  College  Library. 
A  comparison  will  reveal  that,  independent  of  its  mutilations,  our  revision  of  the 
"  Percy  Society  "  reprint  has  not  been  without  advantage. — G. 


THE  AFFECTIONATE  SHEPHEAKD 


CONTAINING  THE  COMPLAINT  OF  DAPHNIS  FOR 
THE  LOUE  OF  GANYMEDE. 


Amor  plus  mellis,  quam  fellis,  est. 


LONDON, 


Printed  by  Iohn  Danter  for  T,  G.  and  E.  N., 

and  are  to  bee  sold  in  Saint  Dunstones 

Church-yeard  in  Fleetstreet. 

1594. 


B  2 


TO  THE  RIGHT  EXCEL- 
LENT  AND  MOST  BEAUTIFULL  LADY,  TEE  LADIE  PENELOPE 

RITCH. 


Patre  louely  Ladie,  whose  Angelique  eyes 
Are  Vestal!  Candles  of  sweet  Beauties  Treasure, 
Whose  speech  is  able  to  inchaunt  the  wise, 
Converting  loy  to  Paine,  and  Paine  to  Pleasure ; 
Accept  this  simple  Toy  of  my  Soules  Dutie, 
Which  I  present  vnto  thy  matchles  Beautie. 

And  albeit  the  gift  be  all  too  meane. 
Too  meane  an  offring  for  thine  ivorie  shrine ; 
Yet  must  thy  Beautie  my  iust  blame  susteane. 
Since  it  is  mortall,  but  thy  selfe  diuine. 

Then  (Noble  Ladie)  take  in  gentle  worth 

This  new-borne  Babe  which  here  my  Muse  brings  forth. 


Your  Honours  most  aJBPectionate 

and  perpetually  denoted  Shepheard : 
DAPHNIS. 


THE  TEARE8  OF  AN 

AFFECTIONATE  SHEPHEARD  SICKE 
FOR  LOUE,  OR  THE  COMPLAINT  OF  DAPHNIS  FOR  THE  LOUE 

OF  GANIMEDE. 


I. 

Scarce  had  the  morning  Starre  hid  from  the  light 
Heauens  crimson  Canopie  with  stars  bespangled, 
But  I  began  to  rue  th'  vnhappy  sight 
Of  that  f  aire  Boy  that  had  my  hart  intangled ; 
Cursing  the  Time,  the  Place,  the  sense,  the  sin  j 
I  came,  I  saw,  I  viewd,  I  slipped  in. 

II. 

If  it  be  sinne  to  loue  a  sweet-fac'd  Boy, 
(Whose  amber  locks  trust  vp  in  golden  tramels 
Dangle  adowne  his  louely  cheekes  with  ioy, 
When  pearle  and  flowers  his  faire  haire  enamels) 

If  it  bo  sinne  to  loue  a  louely  Lad ; 

Oh  then  sinne  I,  for  whom  my  soule  is  sad. 


8  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

III. 
His  luory- white  and  Alablaster  skin 
Is  staind  througliout  with  rare  Vermillion  red, 
Whose  twinckling  starrie  lights  doe  neuer  blin 
To  shine  on  lonely  Venus  (Beauties  bed) : 
But  as  the  Lillie  and  the  blushing  Rose, 
So  white  and  red  on  him  in  order  growes. 

IV. 

Vpon  a  time  the  Nymphs  bestird  them-selues 
To  trie  who  could  his  beautie  soonest  win : 
But  he  accounted  them  but  all  as  Elues, 
Except  it  were  the  faire  Queene  Guendolen, 
Her  he  embrac'd,  of  her  was  beloued, 
With  plaints  he  proued,  and  with  teares  he  moued. 

V. 

But  her  an  Old-Man  had  beene  sutor  too, 

That  in  his  age  began  to  doate  againe ; 

Her  would  he  often  pray,  and  often  woo. 

When  through  old  age  enfeebled  was  his  Braine  : 
But  she  before  had  lou'd  a  lustie  youth 
That  now  was  dead,  the  cause  of  all  her  ruth. 

VI. 

And  thus  it  hapned,  Death  and  Cupid  met 
Vpon  a  time  at  swilling  Bacchus  house, 
Where  daintie  cates  vpon  the  Boord  were  set, 
And  Goblets  full  of  wine  to  drinke  carouse  : 
Where  Loue  and  Death  did  loue  the  licor  so, 
That  out  they  fall  and  to  the  fray  they  goe. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  9 

yii. 

And  hauing  both  their  quiuers  at  their  backe 
Fild  full  of  AiTOWs ;  Th'  one  of  fatall  Steele, 
The  other  all  of  gold ;  Deaths  shaft  was  black, 
But  Loues  was  yellow :  Eortune  turnd  her  wheele. 

And  from  Deaths  Quiuer  fell  a  fatall  shaft. 

That  under  Cupid  by  the  winde  was  waft. 

VIII. 

And  at  the  same  time  by  ill  hap  there  fell 

Another  Arrow  out  of  Cupids  Quiuer ; 

The  which  was  carried  by  the  winde  at  will, 

And  vnder  Death  the  amorous  shaft  did  shiuer : 
They  being  parted,  Loue  tooke  vp  Deaths  dart. 
And  Death  tooke  vp  Loues  Arrow  (for  his  part). 


IX. 

Thus  as  they  wandred  both  about  the  world, 
At  last  Death  met  with  one  of  feeble  age  : 
Wherewith  he  drew  a  shaft  and  at  him  hurld 
The  vnknowne  Arrow ;  (with  a  furious  rage) 

Thinking  to  strike  him  dead  with  Deaths  blacke  dart, 
But  he  (alas),  with  Loue  did  wound  his  hart. 


X. 

This  was  the  doting  foole,  this  was  the  man 
That  lou'd  faire  Guendolena,  Queene  of  Beautie  ; 
Shee  cannot  shake  him  off,  doo  what  she  can, 
Por  he  hath  vowd  to  her  his  soules  last  duety  : 

Making  him  trim  vpon  the  holy-daies, 

And  crownes  his  Loue  with  Garlands  made  of  Baies. 

C 


10  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XI. 

Now  doth  he  stroke  his  Beard ;  and  now  (againe) 
He  wipes  the  driuel  from  his  filthy  chin ; 
Now  offers  he  a  kisse ;  hut  high  Disdaine 
Will  not  permit  her  hart  to  pity  him : 

Her  hart  more  hard  than  Adamant  or  steele. 
Her  hart  more  changeable  than  Fortunes  wheele. 

XII. 

But  leaue  we  him  in  loue  (vp  to  the  eares) 
And  tell  how  Loue  hehau'd  himselfe  abroad ; 
Who  seeing  one  that  mourned  still  in  teares, 
(A  young  man  groaning  under  Loues  great  Load) 
Thinking  to  ease  his  Burden,  rid  his  paines : 
For  men  haue  griefe  as  long  as  life  remaines. 

XIII. 

Alas  (the  while)  that  vnawares  he  drue 
The  f atall  shaft  that  Death  had  dropt  before ; 
By  which  deceit  great  harme  did  then  insue, 
Stayning  his  face  with  blood  and  filthy  goare. 
His  face,  that  was  to  Guendolen  more  deere 
Than  loue  of  Lords,  or  any  lordly  Peere. 

xrv. 

This  was  that  faire  and  beautifuU  young-man, 

Whom  Guendolena  so  lamented  for ; 

This  is  that  Loue  whom  she  doth  curse  and  ban. 

Because  she  doth  that  dismall  chaunce  abhor : 
And  if  it  were  not  for  his  Mothers  sake, 
Even  Ganimede  himselfe  she  would  forsake. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  11 

XV. 

Oh  would  shee  would  forsake  my  Ganimede, 
Whose  sugred  love  is  full  of  sweete  delight, 
Vpon  whose  fore-head  you  may  plainely  reade 
Loues  pleasure,  grau'd  in  yuorie  Tables  bright : 

In  whose  faire  eye-balls  you  may  clearely  see 

Base  Loue  still  staind  with  foule  indignitie. 

XVI. 

Oh  would  to  God  he  would  but  pitty  mee, 
That  loue  him  more  than  any  mortall  wight ; 
Then  he  and  I  with  loue  would  soone  agree, 
That  now  cannot  abide  his  Sutors  sight. 

0  would  to  God  (so  I  might  haue  my  fee) 
My  lips  were  honey,  and  thy  mouth  a  Bee. 

XVII. 

Then  shouldst  thou  sucke  my  sweete  and  my  faire  flower 
That  now  is  ripe,  and  full  of  honey-berries  : 
Then  would  I  leade  thee  to  my  pleasant  Bower 
rild  full  of  Grapes,  of  Mulberries,  and  Cherries ; 
Then  shouldst  thou  be  my  Waspe  or  else  my  Bee, 

1  would  thy  hiue,  and  thou  my  honey  bee. 

XVIII. 

I  would  put  amber  Bracelets  on  thy  wrests, 
Crownets  of  Pearle  about  thy  naked  Armes  : 
And  when  thou  sitst  at  swilling  Bacchus  feasts 
My  lips  with  charmes  should  saue  thee  from  all  harmes  : 
And  when  in  sleepe  thou  tookst  thy  chief  est  Pleasure, 
Mine  eyes  should  gaze  upon  thine  eye-lids  Treasure. 

c2 


12  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XIX. 

And  euery  Morne  by  dawning  of  the  day. 
When  JPhcebus  riseth  with  a  blushing  face, 
Siluanus  Chappel-Clarkes  shall  chaunt  a  Lay, 
And  play  thee  hunts-vp  in  thy  resting  place : 
My  Coote  thy  Chamber,  my  bosome  thy  Bed 
Shall  be  appointed  for  thy  sleepy  head. 

XX. 

And  when  it  pleaseth  thee  to  walke  abroad, 
(Abroad  into  the  fields  to  take  fresh  ay  re  :) 
The  Meades  with  Floras  treasure  should  be  strowde, 
(The  mantled  meaddowes,  and  the  fields  so  fayre,) 
And  by  a  siluer  well  (with  golden  sands) 
He  sit  me  downe,  and  wash  thine  yuory  hands. 

XXI. 

And  in  the  sweltring  heate  of  summer  time, 
I  would  make  Cabinets  for  thee,  (my  Loue  :) 
Sweet-smelling  Arbours  made  of  Eglantine 
Should  be  thy  shrine,  and  I  would  be  thy  Doue. 
Cool  Cabinets  of  fresh  greene  Laurell  boughs 
Should  shaddow  vs,  ore-set  with  thicke-set  Eughes. 

XXII. 

Or  if  thou  list  to  bathe  thy  naked  limbs, 
Within  the  Christall  of  a  Pearle-bright  brooke, 
Paued  with  dainty  pibbles  to  the  brims ; 
Or  cleare,  wherein  thyself e  thy  selfe  mayst  looke ; 
Weele  goe  to  Ladon,  whose  still  trickling  noyse 
Will  lull  thee  fast  asleepe  amids  thy  ioyes. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  13 

XXIII. 

Or  if  thoult  goe  vnto  the  E/iuer  side, 
To  angle  for  the  sweet  fresh-water  fish  : 
Arm'd  with  thy  implements  that  will  abide 
(Thy  rod,  hooke,  line)  to  take  a  dainty  dish ; 

Thy  rods  shall  be  of  cane,  thy  lines  of  silke. 

Thy  hooks  of  siluer,  and  thy  bayts  of  milke. 

XXIV. 

Or  if  thou  lou'st  to  heare  sweet  Melodie, 

Or  pipe  a  Round  vpon  an  Oaten  Reede, 

Or  make  thy  selfe  glad  with  some  myrthfuU  glee. 

Or  play  them  Musicke  whilst  thy  flocke  doth  feede ; 

To  Pans  owne  Pype  He  helpe  my  louely  lad, 

{Pans  golden  Pype)  which  he  of  Syrinx  had. 

XXV. 

Or  if  thou  dar'st  to  climbe  the  highest  Trees 
Por  Apples,  Cherries,  Medlars,  Peares,  or  Plumbs, 
Nuts,  Walnuts,  Pilbeards,  Chest-nuts,  Ceruices, 
The  hoary  Peach,  when  snowy  winter  comes ; 

I  haue  fine  Orchards  full  of  mellowed  frute. 

Which  I  will  giue  thee  to  obtaine  my  sute. 

XXVI. 

Not  proud  Alcynous  himselfe  can  vaunt. 
Of  goodlier  Orchards  or  of  brauer  Trees 
Than  I  haue  planted ;  yet  thou  wilt  not  graunt 
My  simple  sute ;  but  like  the  honey  Bees 

Thou  suckst  the  flowre  till  all  the  sweet  be  gone ; 

And  lou'st  mee  for  my  Coyne  till  I  haue  none. 


14  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XXVII. 

Leaue  Cruendolen^  (sweet  hart)  though  she  be  faire 

Yet  is  she  light ;  not  light  in  vertue  shining  : 

But  light  in  her  hehauiour,  to  impaire 

Her  honour  in  her  Chastities  declining ; 

Trust  not  her  teares,  for  they  can  wantonnize, 
When  teares  in  pearle  are  trickling  from  her  eyes. 

XXVIII. 

If  thou  wilt  come  and  dwell  with  me  at  home ; 
My  sheep-cote  shall  be  strowd  with  new  greene  rushes : 
Weele  haunt  the  trembling  Prickets  as  they  rome 
About  the  fields,  along  the  hauthorne  bushes ; 

I  haue  a  pie-bald  Curre  to  hunt  the  Hare, 

So  we  will  line  with  daintie  forrest  fare. 

XXIX. 

Nay,  more  than  this,  I  haue  a  garden-plot, 
Wherein  there  wants  nor  hearbs,  nor  roots,  nor  flowers ; 
(Flowers  to  smell,  roots  to  eate,  hearbs  for  the  pot,) 
And  dainty  Shelters  when  the  Welkin  lowers : 
Sweet-smelling  Beds  of  Lillies,  and  of  Boses, 
Which  Bosemary  banks  and  Lauender  incloses. 

XXX. 

There  growes  the  Gilliflowre,  the  Mynt,  the  Dayzie 

(Both  red  and  white,)  the  blew-veynd-Violet; 

The  purple  Hyacinth,  the  Spyke  to  please  thee. 

The  scarlet  dyde  Carnation  bleeding  yet ; 
The  Sage,  the  Sauery,  and  sweet  Margerum, 
Isop,  Tyme,  &  Eyebright,  good  for  the  blinde  &  dumbe. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  15 

XXXI. 

The  Pinke,  the  Primrose,  Cowslip,  and  DaflPadilly, 
The  Hare-bell  blue,  the  crimson  CuUumbine, 
Sage,  Lettis,  Parsley,  and  the  milke-white  Lilly, 
The  Rose  and  speckled  flowre  cald  Sops-in-wine, 
Pine  pretie  King-cups,  and  the  yellow  Bootes, 
That  growes  by  Riuers  and  by  shallow  Brookes. 

XXXII. 

And  manie  thousand  moe  (I  cannot  name) 

Of  hearbs  and  flowers  that  in  gardens  grow, 

I  haue  for  thee ;  and  Coneyes  that  be  tame. 

Young  Babbets,  white  as  Swan,  and  blacke  as  Crow, 
Some  speckled  here  and  there  with  daintie  spots  : 
And  more,  I  haue  two  mylch  and  milke-white  Groates. 

XXXIII. 

All  these  and  more  He  giue  thee  for  thy  love ; 
If  these  and  more,  may  tyce  thy  loue  away  : 
I  haue  a  pidgeon-house,  in  it  a  doue. 
Which  I  loue  more  than  mortall  tongue  can  say : 

And  last  of  all.  He  giue  thee  a  little  Lambe 

To  play  withall,  new  weaned  from  her  Dam. 

XXXIV. 

But  if  thou  wilt  not  pittie  my  Complaint, 

My  Teares,  nor  Vowes,  nor  Oathes,  made  to  thy  beautie : 

What  shall  I  doo  ?  but  languish,  die,  or  faint. 

Since  thou  dost  scorne  my  Teares,  and  my  Soules  Duetie : 

And  Teares  contemned,  Vowes  and  Oaths  must  faile ; 

And  where  Teares  cannot,  nothing  can  preuaile. 


16  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XXXV. 

Compare  the  loue  of  faire  Queene  Guendolin 

With  mine,  and  thou  shalt  [s]ee  how  she  doth  loue  thee : 

I  loue  thee  for  thy  qualities  diuine, 

But  shee  doth  loue  another  Swaine  aboue  thee : 

I  loue  thee  for  thy  gifts,  she  for  hir  pleasure ; 

I  for  thy  Vertue,  she  for  Beauties  treasure. 

XXXVI. 

And  alwaies  (I  am  sure)  it  cannot  last, 
But  sometime  Nature  will  denie  those  dimples : 
Insteed  of  Beautie  (when  thy  Blossom's  past) 
Thy  face  will  be  deformed,  full  of  wrinckles  : 
Then  She  that  lou'd  thee  for  thy  Beauties  sake, 
When  Age  drawes  on,  thy  loue  will  soone  forsake. 

XXXVII. 

But  that  I  lou'd  thee  for  thy  gifts  diuine. 
In  the  December  of  thy  Beauties  waning. 
Will  still  admire  (with  ioy)  those  louely  eine, 
That  now  behold  me  with  their  beauties  baning : 
Though  lanuarie  will  neuer  come  againe. 
Yet  Aprill  yeres  will  come  in  showers  of  raine. 

XXXVIII. 

When  will  my  May  come,  that  I  may  embrace  thee  ? 
When  will  the  hower  be  of  my  soules  ioying  ? 
Why  dost  thou  seeke  in  mirth  still  to  disgrace  mee  ? 
Whose  mirth's  my  health,  whose  griefe's  my  harts  annoying 

Thy  bane  my  bale,  thy  blisse  my  blessednes, 

Thy  ill  my  hell,  thy  weale  my  welfare  is. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  17 

XXXIX. 

Thus  doo  I  honour  thee  that  loue  thee  so, 
And  loue  thee  so,  that  so  doo  honour  thee 
Much  more  than  anie  mortall  man  doth  know, 
Or  can  discerne  by  Loue  or  lealozie : 

But  if  that  thou  disdainst  my  louing  euer ; 

Oh  happie  I,  if  I  had  loued  never.     Einis. 

Plus/ellia  quam  mellis  Amor. 


THE  SECOND  DAYES  LAMENTATION  OF  THE 
AFFECTIONATE  SHEPHEARD. 


I, 

Next  Morning,  when  the  golden  Sunne  was  risen. 
And  new  had  hid  good  morrow  to  the  Mountaines ; 
When  Night  her  siluer  light  had  lockt  in  prison, 
Which  gaue  a  glimmering  on  the  christall  fountaines 
Then  ended  sleepe  :  and  then  my  cares  began, 
Eu'n  with  the  vprising  of  the  siluer  Swan. 

II. 
Oh  glorious  Sunne  quoth  I  (viewing  the  Sunne), 
That  lightenst  euerie  thing  but  me  alone : 
Why  is  my  Summer  season  almost  done  ? 
My  Spring-time  past,  and  Ages  Autumne  gone  ? 
My  Haruest's  come,  and  yet  I  reapt  no  come  : 
My  loue  is  great,  and  yet  I  am  forlorne. 

D 


18  The  Affectionate  Shejpheard. 

III. 

Witnes  these  watrie  eyes  my  sad  lament 
(Receauing  cisternes  of  my  ceaseles  teares), 
Witnes  my  bleeding  hart  my  soules  intent, 
Witnes  the  weight  distressed  JDaphnis  beares  : 

Sweet  Loue,  come  ease  me  of  thy  burthens  paine; 

Or  els  I  die,  or  else  my  hart  is  slaine. 

IV. 

And  thou,  Loue-scorning  Boy,  cruell,  vnkinde ; 
Oh  let  me  once  againe  intreat  some  pittie : 
May  be  thou  wilt  relent  thy  marble  minde, 
And  lend  thine  eares  vnto  my  dolefull  Dittie : 

Oh  pittie  him,  that  pittie  craues  so  sweetly ; 

Or  else  thou  shalt  be  neuer  named  meekly. 

V. 

If  thou  wilt  loue  me,  thou  shalt  be  my  Boy, 
My  sweet  Delight,  the  Comfort  of  my  minde, 
My  loue,  my  done,  my  Sollace,  and  my  loy ; 
But  if  I  can  no  grace  nor  mercie  finde, 
He  goe  to  Caucasus  to  ease  my  smart, 
And  let  a  Vulture  gnaw  upon  my  hart. 

VI. 

Yet  if  thou  wilt  but  show  me  one  kinde  looke 
(A  small  reward  for  my  so  great  affection), 
He  graue  thy  name  in  Beauties  golden  Booke, 
And  shrowd  thee  under  Sellicons  protection : 
Making  the  Muses  chaunt  thy  louely  prayse  : 
(For  they  delight  in  Shepheards  lowly  layes). 


TJie  Affectionate  Shepheard.  19 

VII. 

And  when  th'art  wearie  of  thy  keeping  Sheepe 
Upon  a  lonely  Downe,  (to  please  thy  minde,) 
He  giue  thee  fine  ruffe-footed  Doues  to  keepe, 
And  pretie  Pidgeons  of  another  kinde  : 

A  Robbin-redbrest  shall  thy  Minstrell  bee, 

Chirping  thee  sweet  and  pleasant  Melodic. 

VIII. 

Or  if  thou  wilt  goe  shoote  at  little  Birds, 

With  bow  and  boult  (the  Thrustle-cocke  and  Sparrow), 

Such  as  our  Countrey  hedges  can  afford' s ; 

I  haue  a  fine  bowe,  and  an  yuorie  arrow : 

And  if  thou  misse,  yet  meate  thou  shalt  [not]  lacke, 

He  hang  a  bag  and  bottle  at  thy  backe. 

IX. 

Wilt  thou  set  springes  in  a  frostie  Night, 
To  catch  the  long-billd  Woodcocke  and  the  Snype  ? 
(By  the  bright  glimmering  of  the  Starrie  light) 
The  Partridge,  Phaesant,  or  the  greedie  Grype  ? 

He  lend  thee  lyme- twigs,  and  fine  sparrow  calls, 

Wherewith  the  Powler  silly  Birds  inthralls. 

X. 

Or  in  a  mystic  morning  if  thou  wilt 
Make  pitfalls  for  the  Larke  and  Pheldif are ; 
Thy  prop  and  sweake  shall  be  both  ouer-guilt : 
With  Cypariaaus  selfe  thou  shalt  compare 

For  gins  and  wyles,  the  Oozels  to  beguile ; 

Whilst  thou  vnder  a  bush  shalt  sit  and  smile. 

D  2 


20  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XI. 

Or  with  Hare-pypes  (set  in  a  muset  hole) 

Wilt  thou  deceaue  the  deep-earth-deluing  Coney  ? 

Or  wilt  thou  in  a  yellow  Boxen  bole, 

Taste  with  a  woodden  splent  the  sweet  lythe  honey  ? 

Clusters  of  crimson  Grapes  He  pull  thee  downe ; 

And  with  Vine-leaues  make  thee  a  louely  Crowne. 

XII. 

Or  wilt  thou  drinke  a  cup  of  new-made  Wine 
Froathing  at  top,  mixt  with  a  dish  of  Creame ; 
And  Straw-berries,  or  Bil-berries  in  their  prime, 
Bath'd  in  a  melting  Sugar- Candie  streame  : 
Bunnell  and  Perry  I  haue  for  thee  (alone) 
When  Vynes  are  dead,  and  all  the  Grapes  are  gone. 

XIII. 

I  haue  a  pleasant  noted  Nightingale 
(That  sings  as  sweetly  as  the  siluer  Swan) 
Kept  in  a  Cage  of  bone ;  as  white  as  whale. 
Which  I  with  singing  of  Philemon  wan : 

Her  shalt  thou  haue,  and  all  I  haue  beside; 

If  thou  wilt  be  my  Boy,  or  els  my  Bride. 

XIV. 

Then  will  I  lay  out  all  my  Lardarie 

(Of  Cheese,  of  Cracknells,  Curds  and  Clowted- creame) 

Before  thy  male-content  ill-pleasing  eye  : 

But  why  doo  I  of  such  great  follies  dreame  ? 

Alas,  he  will  not  see  my  simple  Coate ; 

Por  all  my  speckled  Lambe,  nor  milk-white  Goate. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  21 

XV. 

Against  my  Birtli-day  thou  shalt  be  my  guest : 
Weele  have  Greene-cheeses  and  fine  Silly-bubs ; 
And  thou  shalt  be  the  chiefe  of  all  my  feast. 
And  I  will  giue  thee  two  fine  pretie  Cubs, 

With  two  yong  Whelps,  to  make  thee  sport  withall, 

A  golden  Racket,  and  a  Tennis-ball. 

XVI. 

A  guilded  Nutmeg,  and  a  race  of  Ginger, 
A  silken  Girdle,  and  a  drawn-worke  Band, 
Cuffs  for  thy  wrists,  a  gold  Ring  for  thy  finger. 
And  sweet  Rose-water  for  thy  Lilly -white  hand, 

A  Purse  of  silke,  bespangd  with  spots  of  gold. 

As  braue  a  one  as  ere  thou  didst  behold. 

XVII. 

A  paire  of  kniues,  a  greene  Hat  and  a  Feather, 
New  Gloues  to  put  upon  thy  milk-white  hand 
He  giue  thee,  for  to  keep  thee  from  the  weather ; 
With  Phoenix  feathers  shall  thy  Face  be  fand, 

Cooling  those  Cheekes,  that  being  cool'd  wexe  red, 

Like  Lillyes  in  a  bed  of  Roses  shed. 

XVIII. 

Why  doo  thy  Corall  lips  disdaine  to  kisse, 
And  sucke  that  Sweete  which  manie  haue  desired  ? 
That  Baulme  my  Bane,  that  meancs  would  mend  my  misse : 
Oh  let  me  then  with  thy  sweete  Lips  b'inspired ; 
When  thy  Lips  touch  my  Lips,  my  Lips  will  turne 
To  Corall  too,  and,  being  cold  yce,  will  burne. 


I 


22  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XIX. 

Why  shoulde  thy  sweete  loue-locke  hang  dangling  downe, 
Kissing  thy  girdle-steed  with  falling  pride  ? 
Although  thy  Skin  be  white,  thy  haire  is  browne  : 
Oh  let  not  then  thy  haire  thy  beautie  hide  ; 
Cut  off  thy  Locke,  and  sell  it  for  gold  wier  : 
(The  purest  gold  is  tryde  in  hottest  fier). 

XX. 

Eaire-long-haire-wearing  Absolon  was  kild. 

Because  he  wore  it  in  a  brauerie : 

So  that  which  gracde  his  Beautie,  Beautie  spild, 

Making  him  subiect  to  vile  slauerie, 

In  being  hangd  :  a  death  for  him  too  good, 

That  sought  his  owne  shame  and  his  Pathers  blood. 

XXI. 

Againe,  we  read  of  old  king  Triamus, 
(The  haplesse  syre  of  valiant  Hector  slaine) 
That  his  haire  was  so  long  and  odious 
In  youth,  that  in  his  age  it  bred  his  paine : 
For  if  his  haire  had  not  been  half  e  so  long, 
His  life  had  been,  and  he  had  had  no  wrong. 

XXII. 

For  when  his  stately  Citie  was  destroyd, 

(That  Monument  of  great  Antiquitie) 

When  his  poore  hart  (with  griefe  and  sorrow  cloyd) 

Fled  to  his  Wife  (last  hope  in  miserie) ; 

Fyrrhus  (more  hard  than  Adamantine  rockes) 
Held  him  and  halde  him  by  his  aged  lockes. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  *  23 

XXIII. 

These  two  examples  by  the  way  I  show 
To  proue  th'indecencie  of  mens  long  haire  : 
Though  I  could  tell  thee  of  a  thousand  moe, 
Let  these  suffice  for  thee  (my  louely  Paire) 

Whose  eye's  my  starre ;  whose  smiling  is  my  Sunne ; 

Whose  loue  did  ende  before  my  ioyes  begunne. 

XXIV. 

Pond  loue  is  blinde,  and  so  art  thou  (my  Deare) 
For  thou  seest  not  my  Loue  and  great  desart ; 
Blinde  Loue  is  fond,  and  so  thou  dost  appeare ; 
Eor  fond,  and  blinde,  thou  greeust  my  greening  hart : 

Be  thou  fond-blinde,  blinde-fond,  or  one,  or  all ; 

Thou  art  my  Loue,  and  I  must  be  thy  thrall. 

XXV. 

Oh  lend  thine  yuorie  fore-head  for  Loues  Booke, 
Thine  eyes  for  candles  to  behold  the  same  ; 
That  when  dim-sighted  ones  therein  shall  looke 
They  may  discerne  that  proud  disdainefuU  Dame ; 

Yet  claspe  that  Booke,  and  shut  that  Cazement  light ; 

Lest  th'one  obscurde,  the  other  shine  too  bright. 

XXVI. 

Sell  thy  sweet  breath  to  th'  daintie  Musk-ball-makers, 

Yet  sell  it  so  as  thou  mayst  soone  redeeme  it : 

Let  others  of  thy  beauty  be  pertakers. 

Else  none  but  Daphnis  will  so  well  esteeme  it. 

For  what  is  Beauty,  except  it  be  well  knowne  ? 

And  how  can  it  be  knowne,  except  first  showne  ? 


24  *  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XXVII. 

Learne  of  the  Gentlewomen  of  this  Age, 
That  set  their  Beauties  to  the  open  view, 
Making  Disdaine  their  Lord,  true  Loue  their  Page ; 
A  Custome  Zeale  doth  hate,  Desert  doth  rue  : 
Learne  to  looke  red,  anon  waxe  pale  and  wan, 
Making  a  mocke  of  Loue,  a  scorne  of  man. 

XXVIII. 

A  candle  light,  and  couer'd  with  a  vaile. 
Doth  no  man  good,  because  it  giues  no  light ; 
So  Beauty  of  her  beauty  seemes  to  faile. 
When  being  not  seene  it  cannot  shine  so  bright : 
Then  show  thyselfe  and  know  thyselfe  withall. 
Lest  climing  high  thou  catch  too  great  a  fall. 

XXIX. 

Oh  foule  eclipser  of  that  fayre  sun- shine. 

Which  is  intitled  Beauty  in  the  best ; 

Making  that  mortall,  which  is  els  diuine. 

That  staines  the  fayre  which  Women  'steeme  not  least : 
Get  thee  to  Hell  againe  (from  whence  thou  art) 
And  leave  the  Center  of  a  Woman's  hart. 

XXX. 

Ah  be  not  staind  (sweet  Boy)  with  this  vilde  spot, 

Indulgence  Daughter,  Mother  of  Mischaunce ; 

A  blemish  that  doth  every  beauty  blot ; 

That  makes  them  loath'd,  but  neuer  doth  advaunce 
Her  Clyents,  fautors,  friends ;  or  them  that  loue  her, 
And  hates  them  most  of  all,  that  most  reproue  her. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  25 

XXXI. 

Remember  Age,  and  thou  canst  not  be  prowd, 
Por  age  puis  downe  the  pride  of  euery  man ; 
In  youthf  ull  yeares  by  Nature  tis  allowde 
To  haue  self e-will,  doo  Nurture  what  she  can ; 

Nature  and  Nurture  once  together  met, 

The  Soule  and  shape  in  decent  order  set. 

XXXII. 

Pride  looks  aloft,  still  staring  on  the  starres, 
Humility  looks  lowly  on  the  ground ; 
Th'  one  menaceth  the  Gods  with  ciuill  warres, 
The  other  toyles  till  he  have  Vertue  found  : 

His  thoughts  are  humble,  not  aspiring  hye ; 

But  Pride  looks  haughtily  with  scomefull  eye. 

XXXIII. 

Humillity  is  clad  in  modest  weedes, 

But  Pride  is  braue  and  glorious  to  the  show ; 

Humillity  his  friends  with  kindnes  f cedes, 

But  Pride  his  friends  (in  neede)  will  neuer  know : 

Supplying  not  their  wants,  but  them  disdaining ; 

Whilst  they  to  pitty  neuer  neede  complayning. 

XXXIV. 

Humillity  in  misery  is  relieu'd. 
But  Pride  in  neede  of  no  man  is  regarded  ; 
Pitty  and  Mercy  weepe  to  see  him  grieu'd 
That  in  distresse  had  them  so  well  rewarded : 

But  Pride  is  scornd,  contcmnd,  disdaind,  derided, 

Whilst  Humblenes  of  all  things  is  prouided. 


26  TTie  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XXXV. 

Oh  then  be  humble,  gentle,  meeke,  and  milde ; 
So  shalt  thou  be  of  euery  mouth  commended ; 
Be  not  disdainfull,  cruell,  proud  (sweet  childe), 
So  shalt  thou  be  of  no  man  much  condemned ; 

Care  not  for  them  that  Vertue  doo  despise ; 

Vertue  is  loathde  of  fooles ;  loude  of  the  wise. 

XXXVI. 

O  faire  Boy,  trust  not  to  thy  Beauties  wings. 
They  cannot  carry  thee  above  the  Sunne : 
Beauty  and  wealth  are  transitory  things 
(For  all  must  ende  that  euer  was  begunne), 
But  Fame  and  Vertue  neuer  shall  decay  : 
For  Fame  is  toombles,  Vertue  lines  for  aye. 

XXXVII. 

The  snow  is  white,  and  yet  the  pepper  's  blacke, 
The  one  is  bought,  the  other  is  contemned : 
Pibbles  we  haue,  but  store  of  leat  we  lacke. 
So  white  comparde  to  blacke  is  much  condemned. 
We  doo  not  praise  the  Swanne  because  shees  white. 
But  for  she  doth  in  Musique  much  delite. 

XXXVIII. 

And  yet  the  siluer-noted  nightingale, 
Though  she  be  not  so  white,  is  more  esteemed ; 
Sturgion  is  dun  of  hew,  white  is  the  Whale, 
Yet  for  the  daintier  Dish  the  first  is  deemed  : 

What  thing  is  whiter  than  the  milke-bred  Lilly  ? 

That  knowes  it  not  for  naught,  what  man  so  silly  ? 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  27 

XXXIX. 

Yea,  what  more  noysomer  vnto  the  smell 
Than  Lillies  are  ?    What's  sweeter  then  the  Sage  ? 
Yet  for  pure  white  the  Lilly  beares  the  Bell, 
Till  it  be  faded  through  decaying  Age. 

House-Doues  are  white,  and  Oozels  Blacke-birds  bee ; 

Yet  what  a  difference  in  the  taste,  we  see. 

XL. 

Compare  the  Cow  and  Calfe,  with  Ewe  and  Lambe ; 
Rough  hayrie  Hydes,  with  softest  downy  Pell ; 
Heefar  and  Bull  with  Weather  and  with  Ramme, 
And  you  shall  see  how  far  they  doo  ex  cell ; 

White  Kine  with  blacke,  blacke  Coney- skins  with  gray, 

Kine,  nesh  and  strong ;  skins,  deare  and  cheape  alway. 

XLI. 

The  whitest  siluer  is  not  alwaies  best, 

Lead,  Tynne  and  Pewter  are  of  base  esteeme; 

The  yellow  burnisht  gold,  that  comes  from  th'  East, 

And  West  (of  late  inuented),  may  beseeme 

The  worlds  ritch  Treasury,  or  My  das  eye ; 

(The  Bitch  mans  God,  poore  mans  felicitie).  j 

<  i 

XLII.  • 

Bugle  and  leat,  with  snow  and  Alablaster 

I  will  compare :  White  Dammasin  with  blacke ; 

Bullas  and  wheaton  Plumbs  (to  a  good  Taster), 

The  ripe  red  Cherries  haue  the  sweetest  smacke :  [ 

When  they  be  greene  and  young,  th'  are  sowre  &  naught ; 

But  being  ripe,  with  eagemes  th'  are  baught. 

£  2 


28  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

XLIII. 

Compare  the  Wyld  cat  to  the  brownish  Beaver, 
Running  for  life,  with  hounds  pursued  sore ; 
When  Hunts-men  of  her  precious  Stones  bereaue  her 
(Which  with  her  teeth  sh'  had  bitten  off  before) : 
Restoratiues  and  costly  curious  Pelts 
Are  made  of  them,  and  rich  imbroydred  Belts. 

XLIV. 

To  what  use  serues  a  peece  of  crimbling  Chalke  ? 
The  Agget  stone  is  white,  yet  good  for  nothing : 
Pie,  fie,  I  am  asham'd  to  heare  thee  talke  ; 
Be  not  so  much  of  thine  owne  Image  doating  : 

So  faire  Narcissus  lost  his  loue  and  life. 

(Beautie  is  often  with  itselfe  at  strife.) 

XLV. 

Right  Diamonds  are  of  a  russet  hieu, 
The  brightsome  Carbuncles  are  red  to  see  too. 
The  Sapphyre  stone  is  of  a  watchet  blue, 
(To  this  thou  canst  not  chuse  but  soone  agree  to) : 
Pearles  are  not  white  but  gray.  Rubies  are  red  : 
In  praise  of  Blacke  what  can  be  better  sed  ? 

XL  VI. 

For  if  we  doo  consider  of  each  mortall  thing 
That  flyes  in  welkin,  or  in  waters  swims. 
How  euerie  thing  increaseth  with  the  Spring, 
And  how  the  blacker  still  the  brighter  dims : 
We  cannot  chuse,  but  needs  we  must  confesse. 
Sable  excels  milk-white  in  more  or  lesse. 


Tlie  Affectionate  Shepheard.  29 

XLVII. 

As  for  example,  in  the  christall  cleare 
Of  a  sweete  streame,  or  pleasant  running  Riuer, 
Where  thousand  formes  of  fishes  will  appeare, 
(Whose  names  to  thee  I  cannot  now  deliver :) 

The  blacker  still  the  brighter  haue  disgrac'd, 

For  pleasant  profit,  and  delicious  taste. 

XLVIII. 

Salmon  and  Trout  are  of  a  ruddie  colour. 

Whiting  and  Dare  is  of  a  milk-white  hiew  : 

Nature  by  them  (perhaps)  is  made  the  fuller. 

Little  they  nourish,  be  they  old  or  new : 

Carp,  Loach,  Tench,  Eeles  (though  black  &  bred  in  mud), 
Delight  the  tooth  with  taste,  and  breed  good  blud. 

XLIX. 

Innumerable  be  the  kindes,  if  I  could  name  them ; 
But  I  a  Shepheard  and  no  Fisher  am  : 
Little  it  skils  whether  I  praise  or  blame  them, 
I  onely  meddle  with  my  Ew  and  Lamb : 

Yet  this  I  say,  that  blacke  the  better  is. 

In  birds,  beasts,  frute,  stones,  flowres,  herbs,  mettals,  fish. 

L. 

And  last  of  all,  in  blacke  there  doth  appeare 
Such  qualities  as  not  in  y  vorie ; 
Black  cannot  blush  for  shame,  looke  pale  for  fear. 
Scorning  to  weare  another  liuorie. 

Blacke  is  the  badge  of  sober  Modestie, 

The  wonted  weare  of  ancient  Grauctie. 


30  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

LI. 

The  learned  Sisters  sute  themselues  in  blacke, 
Learning  abandons  white  and  lighter  hues : 
Pleasure  and  Pride  light  colours  neuer  lacke, 
But  true  E/oligion  doth  such  Toyes  refuse : 

Vertue  and  Grauity  are  sisters  growne, 

Since  blacke  by  both,  and  both  by  blacke  are  knowne. 

LII. 

White  is  the  colour  of  each  paltry  Miller, 
White  is  the  Ensigne  of  each  common  Woman ; 
White  is  white  Vertues  for  blacke  Vyces  Piller, 
White  makes  proud  fooles  inferiour  vnto  no  man : 
White,  is  the  White  of  Body,  blacke  of  Minde 
(Vertue  we  seldome  in  white  Habit  finde). 

LIII. 

Oh,  then  be  not  so  proud  because  th'  art  fayre, 

Vertue  is  onely  the  ritch  gift  of  God  : 

Let  not  selfc-pride  thy  vertues  name  impayre, 

Beate  not  greene  youth  with  sharpe  Bepentance  Bod : 

(A  !Fiend,  a  Monster,  a  mishapen  Diuel ; 

Vertues  foe,  Vyces  friend,  the  roote  of  euill). 

lilV. 

Apply  thy  minde  to  be  a  vertuous  man, 

Auoyd  ill  company  (the  spoyle  of  youth)  ; 

To  follow  Vertues  Lore  doo  what  thou  can 

(Whereby  great  profit  vnto  the  ensuth)  : 
Beade  Bookes,  hate  Ignorance  (the  foe  to  art. 
The  Damme  of  Errour,  Enuy  of  the  hart). 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  31 

LV. 

Serue  Jove  (vpon  thy  knees)  both  day  and  night. 
Adore  his  Name  aboue  all  things  on  Earth ; 
So  shall  thy  vowes  be  gracious  in  his  sight, 
So  little  Babes  are  blessed  in  their  Birth : 

Thinke  on  no  worldly  woe,  lament  thy  sin ; 

(For  lesser  cease,  when  greater  grief es  begin). 

LVI. 

Sweare  no  vaine  oathes ;  heare  much,  but  little  say ; 
Speake  iU  of  no  man,  tend  thine  owne  affaires. 
Bridle  thy  wrath,  thine  angrie  mood  delay ; 
(So  shall  thy  minde  be  seldome  cloyd  with  cares  : ) 

Be  milde  and  gentle  in  thy  speech  to  all, 

Refuse  no  honest  gaine  when  it  doth  fall. 

LVII. 

Be  not  beguild  with  words,  proue  not  vngratefull, 
E/cleeue  thy  neighbour  in  his  greatest  need. 
Commit  no  action  that  to  all  is  hatefull. 
Their  want  with  welth,  the  poore  with  plentie  feed : 

Twit  no  man  in  the  teeth  with  what  th*  hast  done ; 

Remember  flesh  is  fraile,  and  hatred  shunne. 

LVIII. 

Leaue  wicked  things,  which  Men  to  mischiefe  moue, 

(Least  crosse  mis-hap  may  thee  in  danger  bring), 

Craue  no  preferment  of  thy  heauenly  loue. 

Nor  anie  honor  of  thy  earthly  King : 

Boast  not  thyselfe  before  th*  Almighties  sight, 
(Who  knowes  thy  hart,  and  anie  wicked  wight). 


32  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

LIX. 

Be  not  offensiue  to  the  peoples  eye, 
See  that  thy  praiers  harts  true  zeale  affords, 
Scorne  not  a  man  that's  falne  in  miserie, 
Esteeme  no  tatling  tales,  no  babling  words ; 
That  reason  is  exiled  alwaies  thinke. 
When  as  a  drunkard  rayles  amidst  his  drinke. 

LX. 

Use  not  thy  lonely  lips  to  loathsome  lyes, 
By  craf tie  meanes  increase  no  worldly  wealth ; 
Striue  not  with  mightie  Men  (whose  fortune  flies). 
With  temp'rate  diet  nourish  wholesome  health : 

Place  well  thy  words,  leaue  not  thy  frend  for  gold ; 

Eirst  trie,  then  trust ;  in  ventring  be  not  bold. 

LXI. 

In  JPan  repose  thy  trust ;  extoU  his  praise, 
(That  neuer  shall  decay,  but  euer  lines) : 
Honor  thy  parents  (to  prolong  thy  dayes), 
Let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what  right  hand  giues  : 
Erom  needie  men  turn  not  thy  face  away, 
(Though  Charitie  be  now  yclad  in  clay). 

LXII. 

Heare  Shepheards  oft  (thereby  great  wisdome  growes), 
With  good  advice  a  sober  answere  make  : 
Be  not  remoou'd  with  euery  winde  that  blowes, 
(That  course  doo  onely  sinfuU  sinners  take). 

Thy  talke  will  shew  thy  fame  or  els  thy  shame ; 

(A  pratling  tongue  doth  often  purchase  blame.) 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  33 

LXIII. 

Obtaine  a  faithful!  frend  that  will  not  faile  thee, 
Think  on  thy  Mother's  paine  in  her  child-bearing, 
Make  no  debate,  least  quickly  thou  bewaile  thee, 
Visit  the  sicke  with  comfortable  chearing : 
Pittie  the  prisner,  helpe  the  fatherlesse, 
Revenge  the  Widdowes  wrongs  in  her  distresse. 

LXIV. 

Thinke  on  thy  graue,  remember  still  thy  end, 
Let  not  thy  winding-sheete  be  staind  with  guilt. 
Trust  not  a  fained  reconciled  frend. 
More  than  an  open  foe  (that  blood  hath  spilt), 

(Who  tutcheth  pitch,  with  pitch  shalbe  defiled). 

Be  not  with  wanton  companie  beguiled. 

LXV. 

Take  not  a  flattring  woman  to  thy  wife, 
A  shameles  creature,  full  of  wanton  words, 
(Whose  bad,  thy  good ;  whose  lust  will  end  thy  life. 
Cutting  thy  hart  with  sharpe  two-edged  knife) : 
Cast  not  thy  minde  on  her  whose  lookes  allure, 
But  she  that  shines  in  Truth  and  Vertue  pure. 

LXVI. 

Praise  not  thyself e,  let  other  men  commend  thee ; 
Beare  not  a  flattring  tongue  to  glauer  anie. 
Let  Parents  due  correction  not  oflend  thee : 
Rob  not  thy  neighbor,  sceke  the  loue  of  mania ; 

Hate  not  to  heare  good  Counsell  giuen  thee, 

Lay  not  thy  money  unto  Vsurie. 

p 


34  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

LXVII. 

E-estraine  thy  steps  from  too  much  libertie, 
fulfill  not  th'  enuious  mans  malitious  minde ; 
Embrace  thy  Wife,  live  not  in  lecherie ; 
Content  thy  self  e  with  what  Pates  haue  assignde  : 

Be  rul'd  by  Reason,  Warning  dangers  saue ; 

True  Age  is  reuerend  worship  to  thy  graue. 

LXVIII. 

Be  patient  in  extreame  Aduersitie, 

(Mans  chiefest  credit  growes  by  dooing  well). 

Be  not  high-minded  in  Prosperitie ; 

Ealshood  abhorre,  no  lying  fable  tell. 

Giue  not  thyselfe  to  Sloth,  (the  sinke  of  Shame, 
The  moath  of  Time,  the  enemie  to  Pame). 

LXIX. 

This  leare  I  learned  of  a  Bel-dame  Trot, 
(When  I  was  yong  and  wylde  as  now  thou  art) : 
But  her  good  counsell  I  regarded  not, 
I  markt  it  with  my  eares,  not  with  my  hart : 
But  now  I  finde  it  too-too  true  (my  Sonne), 
When  my  Age-withered  Spring  is  almost  done. 

LXX. 

Behold  my  gray  head,  full  of  siluer  haires, 
My  wrinckled  skin,  deepe  furrowes  in  my  face  : 
Cares  bring  Old- Age,  Old- Age  increaseth  cares ; 
My  Time  is  come,  and  I  haue  run  my  race : 
Winter  hath  snow'd  vpon  my  hoarie  head, 
And  with  my  Winter  all  my  ioyes  are  dead. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  35 

LXXI. 

And  thou  loue-hating  boy,  (whom  once  I  loued), 

Parewell,  a  thousand-thousand  times  farewell ; 

My  Teares  the  Marble  Stones,  to  ruth  haue  moved ; 

My  sad  Complaints  the  babling  Ecchoes  tell : 

And  yet  thou  wouldst  take  no  compassion  on  mee, 
Scorning  that  crosse  which  Loue  hath  laid  vpon  mee. 

LXXII. 

I'he  hardest  Steele  with  fier  doth  mend  his  misse, 
Marble  is  mollifyde  with  drops  of  E-aine ; 
But  thou  (more  hard  than  Steele  or  Marble  is) 
Doost  scorne  my  Teares,  and  my  true  loue  disdaine, 

Which  for  thy  sake  shall  euerlasting  bee, 

Wrote  in  the  Annalls  of  Eternitie. 

LXXIII. 

By  this,  the  Night,  (with  darknes  ouer-spred), 

Had  drawne  the  curtaines  of  her  cole-blacke  bed ; 

And  Cynthia,  muffling  her  face  with  a  clowd, 

(Lest  all  the  world  of  her  should  be  too  prowd) 
Had  taken  conge  of  the  sable  Night, 
(That  wanting  her  cannot  be  halfe  so  bright). 

LXXIV. 

When  I  poore  forlorn  man  and  outcast  creature, 
(Despairing  of  my  Loue,  despisde  of  l^eautie) 
Grew  male-content,  scorning  his  louely  feature, 
That  liad  disdaind  my  euer  zealous  dutie  : 

I  liy'd  me  homeward  by  the  Moone-shine  light ; 

Foreswaring  Loue,  and  all  his  fond  delight. 

PINIS. 

f2 


36  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


THE  SHEPHEARDS  CONTENT, 

OR 

THE  HAPPINES  OF  A  HARMLES  LIFE. 

WRITTEN  VPON  OCCASION  OF  THE 

FORMER  SUBIECT. 


I. 


Of  all  the  kindes  of  common  Countrey  life, 
Methinkes  a  Shepheards  life  is  most  Content ; 
His  State  is  quiet  Peace,  deuoyd  of  strife ; 
His  thoughts  are  pure  from  all  impure  intent, 
His  Pleasures  rate  sits  at  an  easie  rent : 
He  beares  no  mallice  in  his  harmles  hart, 
Malicious  meaning  hath  in  him  no  part. 


TTie  Affectionate  Shepheard.  37 


II. 

He  is  not  troubled  with  th'  afflicted  minde, 

His  cares  are  onely  ouer  silly  Sheepe ; 

He  is  not  vnto  lealozie  inclinde, 

(Thrice  happy  Man)  he  knowes  not  how  to  weepe ; 

Whilst  I  the  Treble  in  deepe  sorrowes  keepe : 
I  cannot  keepe  the  Meane  ;  for  why  (alas) 
Griefes  haue  no  meane,  though  I  for  meane  doe  passe. 


III. 


No  Briefes  nor  Semi-Briefes  are  in  my  Songs, 

Because  (alas)  my  grief  e  is  seldome  short ; 

My  Prick-Song's  alwayes  full  of  Largues  and  Longs, 

(Because  I  neuer  can  obtaine  the  Port 

Of  my  desires :  Hope  is  a  happie  Eort). 

Prick-song  (indeed)  because  it  pricks  my  hart ; 

And  Song,  because  sometimes  I  ease  my  smart. 


IV. 


The  mightie  Monarch  of  a  royall  Bealme, 
Swaying  his  Scepter  with  a  Princely  pompe, 
Of  his  desires  cannot  so  steare  the  Healme, 
But  sometime  falls  into  a  deadly  dumpe. 
When  as  he  heares  the  shrilly-sounding  Trumpc 

Of  forren  Enemies,  or  home-bred  Foes ; 

His  minde  of  griefe,  his  hart  is  full  of  woes. 


38  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


V. 


Or  when  bad  subiects  gainst  their  Soueraigne 
(Like  hollow  harts)  vnnaturally  rebell. 
How  carefull  is  he  to  suppresse  againe 
Their  desperate  forces,  and  their  powers  to  quell 
With  loyall  harts,  till  all  (againe)  be  weU : 
When  (being  subdu'd)  his  care  is  rather  more 
To  keepe  them  vnder,  than  it  was  before. 


VI. 


Thus  is  he  neuer  full  of  sweete  Content, 
But  either  this  or  that  his  ioy  debars  : 
Now  Noble-men  gainst  Noble-men  are  bent. 
Now  Gentlemen  and  others  fall  at  iarrs : 
Thus  is  his  Countrey  full  of  ciuill  warrs ; 
He  still  in  danger  sits,  still  fearing  Death, 
Por  Traitors  seeke  to  stop  their  Princes  breath. 


vn. 

TJie  whylst  the  other  hath  no  enemie. 
Without  it  be  the  Wolfe  and  cruell  Eates, 
(Which  no  man  spare) :  when  as  his  disagree. 
He  with  his  sheephooke  knaps  them  on  the  pates, 
Schooling  his  tender  Lambs  from  Wanton  gates. 

Beasts  are  more  kinde  than  Men,  Sheepe  seeke  not  blood 
But  countrey  caytiues  kill  their  Countreyes  good. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  39 


VIII. 


The  Courtier  he  fawn's  for  his  Princes  fauour, 

In  hope  to  get  a  Princely  ritch  Reward ; 

His  tongue  is  tipt  with  honey  for  to  glauer, 

Pride  deales  the  Deck,  whilst  Chance  doth  choose  the  Card ; 

Then  comes  another  and  his  Game  hath  mard ; 

Sitting  betwixt  him  and  the  morning  Sun ; 

Thus  Night  is  come  before  the  Day  is  done. 


IX. 


Some  Courtiers,  careful!  of  their  Princes  health, 

Attend  his  Person  with  all  dilligence 

Whose  hand's  their  hart ;  whose  welfare  is  their  wealth, 

Whose  safe  Protection  is  their  sure  Defence, 

Por  pure  affection,  not  for  hope  of  pence : 

Such  is  the  faithfull  hart,  such  is  the  minde. 

Of  him  that  is  to  Vertue  still  inclinde. 


X. 

The  skilfuU  SchoUer,  and  braue  man  at  Armes, 
First  plies  his  Booke,  last  fights  for  Countries  Peace ; 
Th'  one  feares  Obliuion,  th'  other  fresh  Alarmes  : 
His  paines  nere  ende,  his  trauailes  neuer  cease ; 
His  with  the  Day,  his  with  the  Night  increase  : 
He  studies  how  to  get  eternall  Fame, 
The  Souldier  fights  to  win  a  glorious  Name. 


40  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


XI. 

The  Knight,  the  Squire,  the  Gentleman,  the  Clowne, 
Are  full  of  crosses  and  calamities ; 
Lest  fickle  Fortune  should  begin  to  frowne, 
And  turne  their  mirth  to  extreame  miseries : 
Nothing  more  certaine  than  incertainties ; 
Fortune  is  full  of  fresh  varietie  : 
Constant  in  nothing  but  inconstancie. 


XII. 


The  wealthie  Merchant  that  doth  crosse  the  Seas, 
To  Denmarke,  Poland,  Spaine,  and  Barbarie, 
For  all  his  ritches,  lines  not  still  at  ease ; 
Sometimes  he  feares  ship-spoyling  Pyracie, 
Another  while  deceipt  and  treacherie 

Of  his  owne  Factors  in  a  forren  Land ; 

Thus  doth  he  still  in  dread  and  danger  stand. 


XIII. 

Well  is  he  tearmd  a  merchant- Venturer, 
Since  he  doth  venter  lands,  and  goods  and  all : 
When  he  doth  trauell  for  his  Traffique  far, 
Little  he  knowes  what  fortune  may  befall. 
Or  rather,  what  mis -fortune  happen  shall : 

Sometimes  he  splits  his  Ship  against  a  rocke ; 

Loosing  his  men,  his  goods,  his  wealth,  his  stocke. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  41 


XIV. 

And  if  he  so  escape  with  life  away, 
He  counts  himselfe  a  man  most  fortunate, 
Because  the  waues  their  rigorous  rage  did  stay, 
(When  being  within  their  cruell  powers  of  late, 
The  Seas  did  seeme  to  pittie  his  estate). 
But  yet  he  neuer  can  recover  health, 
Because  his  ioy  was  drowned  with  his  wealth. 


XV. 


The  painfull  Plough- swaine,  and  the  Husband-man, 
Rise  up  each  morning  by  the  breake  of  day, 
Taking  what  toyle  and  drudging  paines  they  can, 
And  all  is  for  to  get  a  little  stay  ; 
And  yet  they  cannot  put  their  care  away : 
When  Night  is  come,  their  cares  begin  afresh. 
Thinking  vpon  their  Morrowes  busines. 


XVI. 


Thus  euerie  man  is  troubled  with  vnrest, 
From  rich  to  poore,  from  high  to  low  degree  : 
Therefore  I  thinke  that  man  is  truly  blest. 
That  neither  cares  for  wealth  nor  pouertie. 
But  laughs  at  Fortune,  and  her  foolcrie  ; 
That  gives  rich  Churles  great  store  of  golde  and  fee, 
And  lets  poore  Schollers  live  in  miserie. 

6 


42  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


XVII. 

O,  fading  Branches  of  decaying  Bayes, 

Who  now  will  water  your  dry-wither'd  Arrnes  ? 

Or  where  is  he  that  sung  the  louely  Layes 

Of  simple  Shepheards  in  their  Countrey-Parmes  ? 

Ah  he  is  dead,  the  cause  of  all  our  harmes  : 

And  with  him  dide  my  ioy  and  sweete  delight ; 

The  cleare  to  Clowdes,  the  D^y  is  turnd  to  Night. 


XVIII. 

Sydney,  The  Syren  of  this  latter  Age  ; 
Sydney,  The  Biasing  starre  of  England's  glory  ; 
Sydney,  The  Wonder  of  the  wise  and  sage ; 
Sydney,  The  Subiect  of  true  Vertues  story ; 

This  Syren,  Starre,  this  Wonder,  and  this  Subiect ; 

Is  dumbe,  dim,  gone,  and  mard  by  Fortune's  Obiect. 


XIX. 

And  thou,  my  sweete  Amintas,  vertuous  minde, 
Should  I  forget  thy  Learning  or  thy  Loue, 
Well  might  I  be  accounted  but  vnkinde, 
Whose  pure  affection  I  so  oft  did  proue  ; 
Might  my  poore  Plaints  hard  stones  to  pitty  moue, 
His  losse  should  be  lamented  of  each  Creature, 
So  great  his  Name,  so  gentle  was  his  Nature. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  43 


XX. 


But  sleepe  his  soule  in  sweet  Elysium, 
(The  happy  Hauen  of  eternall  rest :) 
And  let  me  to  my  former  matter  come, 
Prouing,  by  Reason,  Shepheard's  life  is  best, 
Because  he  harbours  Vertue  in  his  Brest ; 
And  is  content,  (the  chief  est  thing  of  all), 
With  any  fortune  that  shall  him  befall. 


XXI. 

He  sits  all  Day  lowd- piping  on  a  Hill, 
The  whilst  his  floeke  about  him  daunce  apace, 
His  hart  with  ioy,  his  eares  with  Musique  fill 
Anon  a  bleating  Weather  beares  the  Bace, 
A  lambe  the  Treble,  and  to  his  disgrace 
Another  answers  like  a  middle  Meane, 
Thus  euery  one  to  beare  a  Part  are  faine. 


XXII. 

Like  a  great  King  he  rules  a  little  Land, 

Still  making  Statutes  and  ordayning  Lawes ; 

Which  if  they  breake,  he  beates  them  with  his  Wand : 

He  doth  defend  them  from  the  greedy  lawes 

Of  rau'ning  Woolues,  and  Lyons  bloudy  Pawes. 

His  Field,  his  Rcalme ;  his  Subiects  are  his  Sheepe ; 

Which  he  doth  still  in  due  obedience  keepe. 

62 


44  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


XXIII. 

First  he  ordaines  by  Act  of  Parlament, 
(Holden  by  custome  in  each  Country  Towne), 
That  if  a  sheepe  (with  any  bad  intent) 
Presume  to  breake  the  neighbour  Hedges  downe, 
Or  haunt  strange  Pastures  that  be  not  his  owne ; 
He  shall  be  pounded  for  his  lustines, 
Vntill  his  Master  finde  out  some  redres. 


XXIV. 

Also  if  any  proue  a  Strageller 
Prom  his  owne  fellowes  in  a  forraine  field, 
He  shall  be  taken  for  a  wanderer, 
And  forc'd  himselfe  immediatly  to  yeeld. 
Or  with  a  wyde-mouth'd  Mastiue  Curre  be  kild ; 
And  if  not  claimd  within  a  twelue-month's  space. 
He  shall  remaine  with  Land-lord  of  the  place. 


XXV. 

Or  if  one  stray  to  feede  far  from  the  rest, 
He  shall  be  pincht  by  his  swift  pye-bald  Curre ; 
If  any  by  his  fellowes  be  opprest, 
The  wronger,  (for  he  doth  all  wrong  abhorre), 
Shall  be  well  bangd  so  long  as  he  can  sturre. 
Because  he  did  anoy  his  harmeles  Brother, 
That  meant  not  harme  to  him  nor  any  other. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  45 


XXVI. 

And  last  of  all,  if  any  wanton  Weather, 
With  briers  and  brambles  teare  his  fleece  in  twaine, 
He  shall  be  forc'd  t'  abide  cold  frosty  weather, 
And  powring  showres  of  ratling  stormes  of  raine, 
Till  his  new  fleece  begins  to  grow  againe : 
And  for  his  rashnes  he  is  doom'd  to  goe 
Without  a  new  Coate  all  the  Winter  throw. 


XXVII. 

Thus  doth  he  keepe  them  still  in  awfull  feare, 
And  yet  allowes  them  liberty  inough ; 
So  deare  to  him  their  welfare  doth  appeare, 
That  when  their  fleeces  gin  to  waxen  rough. 
He  combs  and  trims  them  with  a  Rampicke  bough, 
Washing  them  in  the  streames  of  siluer  Ladon^ 
To  cleanse  their  skinnes  from  all  corruption. 


XXVIII. 

Another  while  he  wooes  his  Countiy  Wench, 
(With  Chaplet  crownd  and  gaudy  girlonds  dight) 
Whose  burning  Lust  her  modest  eye  doth  quench, 
Standing  amazed  at  her  lieauenly  sight, 
(Beauty  doth  rauish  Sense  with  sweet  Delight) 
Clearing  Arcadia  with  a  smoothed  Browe, 
When  Sun-bright  smiles  melt  flakes  of  driuen  snowe. 


46  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


XXIX. 

Thus  doth  he  frollicke  it  each  day  by  day, 
And  when  Night  comes  drawes  homeward  to  his  Coate, 
Singing  a  jigge  or  merry  Roundelay, 
(Eor  who  sings  commonly  so  merry  a  Noate, 
As  he  that  cannot  chop  or  change  a  groate.) 
And  in  the  winter  Nights  (his  chiefe  desire) 
He  turns  a  Crabbe  or  Cracknell  in  the  fire. 


XXX. 

He  leads  his  "Wench  a  Country  Horn-pipe  Round, 
About  a  May-pole  on  a  Holy-day ; 
Kissing  his  louely  Lasse  (with  Garlands  Crownd) 
With  whoopping  heigh-ho  singing  Care  away ; 
Thus  doth  he  passe  the  merry  month  of  May, 

And  all  th'  yere  after,  in  delight  and  ioy ; 

(Scorning  a  King)  he  cares  for  no  annoy. 


XXXI. 

What  though  with  simple  cheere  he  homely  fares', 
He  lines  content,  a  King  can  doo  no  more  ; 
Nay,  not  so  much,  for  Kings  haue  manie  cares  : 
But  he  hath  none,  except  it  be  that  sore 
Which  yong  and  old,  which  vexeth  ritch  and  poore, 

The  pangs  of  loue.     O  !  who  can  vanquish  Loue  ? 

That  conquers  Kingdomes,  and  the  Gods  aboue. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  47 


XXXII. 

Deepe-wounding  Arrow,  hart-consuming  Fire ; 

Ruler  of  Reason,  slaue  to  tyrant  Beautie ; 

Monarch  of  harts,  Puell  of  fond  desire, 

Prentice  to  Folly,  foe  to  fained  Duetie, 

Pledge  of  true  Zeale,  Affections  moitie  ; 

If  thou  kilst  where  thou  wilt,  and  whom  it  list  thee, 
(Alas)  how  can  a  silly  Soule  resist  thee  ? 


XXXIII. 

By  thee  great  Collin  lost  his  libertie, 

By  thee  sweet  Astrophel  forwent  his  ioy  ; 

By  thee  Amyntas  wept  incessantly. 

By  thee  good  Rowland  liu'd  in  great  annoy ; 

O  cruell,  peevish,  vylde,  blind-seeing  Boy, 

How  canst  thou  hit  their  harts,  and  yet  not  see  ? 

(If  thou  be  blinde,  as  thou  art  faind  to  bee.) 


XXXIV. 

A  Shepheard  loues  no  ill,  but  onely  thee  ; 
He  hath  no  care,  but  onely  by  thy  causing : 
Why  doost  thou  shoot  thy  cruell  shafts  at  mee  ? 
Giue  me  some  respite,  some  short  time  of  pausing  : 
StiU  my  sweet  Loue  with  bitter  lucke  th'art  sawcing 

Oh,  if  thou  hast  a  minde  to  shew  thy  might ; 

Kill  mightie  Kings,  and  not  a  wretched  wight. 


48  77^6  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


XXXV. 

Yet  (O  Enthraller  of  infranchizd  harts) 
At  my  poore  hart  if  thou  wilt  needs  be  ayming, 
Doo  me  this  fauour,  show  me  both  thy  Darts, 
That  I  may  chuse  the  best  for  my  harts  mayming, 
(A  free  consent  is  priuiledgd  from  blaming  : ) 
Then  pierce  his  hard  hart  with  thy  golden  Arrow, 
That  thou  my  wrong,  that  he  may  rue  my  sorrow. 


XXXVI. 

But  let  mee  feele  the  force  of  thy  lead  Pyle, 
What  should  I  doo  with  loue  when  I  am  old  ? 
I  know  not  how  to  flatter,  fawne,  or  smyle ; 
Then  stay  thy  hand,  O  cruell  Bow-man  hold : 
For  if  thou  strik'st  me  with  thy  dart  of  gold, 
I  sweare  to  thee  (by  loues  immortall  curse) 
I  haue  more  in  my  hart  than  in  my  purse. 


XXXVII. 

The  more  I  weepe,  the  more  he  bends  his  Bow, 
For  in  my  hart  a  golden  Shaft  I  finde  : 
(Cruell,  vnkinde)  and  wilt  thou  leaue  me  so  ? 
Can  no  remorce  nor  pittie  moue  thy  minde  ? 
Is  Mercie  in  the  Heauens  so  hard  to  finde  ? 
Oh,  then  it  is  no  meruaile  that  on  earth 
Of  kinde  Bemorce  there  is  so  great  a  dearth. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  49 


XXXVIII. 

How  happie  were  a  harmles  Shepheards  life, 
If  he  had  neuer  knowen  what  Loue  did  meane  ; 
But  now  fond  Loue  in  euery  place  is  rife. 
Staining  the  purest  Soule  with  spots  vncleane, 
Making  thicke  purses,  thin  :  fat  bodies,  leane : 
Loue  is  a  fiend,  a  fire,  a  heauen,  a  hell. 
Where  pleasure,  paine,  and  sad  repentance  dwell ! 


XXXIX. 

There  are  so  manie  Dcmaes  now  a  dayes, 
That  loue  for  lucre  ;  paine  for  gaine  is  sold  : 
No  true  affection  can  their  fancie  please. 
Except  it  be  a  love,  to  raine  downe  gold 
Into  their  laps,  which  they  wyde  open  hold  : 
If  legem  pone  comes,  he  is  receau'd. 
When  Vix  haud  habeo  is  of  hope  bereau'd. 


XL. 


Thus  have  I  showed  in  my  Countrey  vaine 
The  sweet  Content  that  Shepheards  still  inioy  ; 
The  mickle  pleasure,  and  the  little  paine 
That  euer  doth  awayte  the  Shepheards  Boy : 
His  hart  is  neuer  troubled  with  annoy  : 

He  is  a  King,  for  he  commands  his  Sheepe  ; 

He  knowes  no  woe,  for  he  doth  seldome  weepe. 

H 


50  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


XLI. 

He  is  a  Courtier,  for  he  courts  his  Loue ; 

He  is  a  Scholler,  for  he  sings  sweet  Ditties  : 

He  is  a  Souldier,  for  he  wounds  doth  proue ; 

He  is  the  fame  of  Townes,  the  shame  of  Citties ; 

He  scornes  false  Eortune,  but  true  Vertue  pitties. 
He  is  a  Gentleman,  because  his  nature 
Is  kinde  and  affable  to  euerie  Creature. 


XLII. 

Who  would  not  then  a  simple  Shepheard  bee, 
Rather  than  be  a  mightie  Monarch  made  ? 
Since  he  inioyes  such  perfect  libertie 
As  neuer  can  decay,  nor  neuer  fade : 
He  seldome  sits  in  dolefull  Cypresse  shade. 
But  Hues  in  hope,  in  ioy,  in  peace,  in  blisse 
loying  all  ioy  with  this  content  of  his. 


XLIII. 

But  now  good-fortune  lands  my  little  Boate 

Vpon  the  shoare  of  his  desired  rest ; 

Now  I  must  leaue  (awhile)  my  rurall  noate, 

To  thinke  on  him  whom  my  soule  loueth  best ; 

He  that  can  make  the  most  vnhappie  blest : 

In  whose  sweete  lap  He  lay  me  downe  to  sleepe. 
And  neuer  wake  till  Marble-stones  shall  weepe. 

FINIS, 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  51 


SONNET. 

LoE  here  behold  these  tributarie  Teares 
Paid  to  thy  faire,  but  cruell  tyrant  Eyes ; 

Loe  here  the  blossome  of  my  youthful!  yeares, 
Nipt  with  the  fresh  of  thy  Wraths  winter,  dyes, 

Here  on  Loues  Altar  I  doo  offer  vp 

This  burning  hart  for  my  Soules  sacrifice ; 

Here  I  receaue  this  deadly-poysned  cu[p] 

Of  Circe  charm'd ;  wherein  deepe  magicke  lyes. 

Then  Teares  (if  you  be  happie  Teares  indeed), 
And  Hart  (if  thou  be  lodged  in  his  brest), 

And  Cup  (if  thou  canst  helpe  despaire  with  speed)  ; 
Teares,  Hart,  and  Cup,  conjoyne  to  make  me  blest: 
Teares  moue.  Hart  win,  Cup  cause,  ruth,  loue,  desire, 
In  word,  in  deed,  by  moane,  by  zeale,  by  fire. 


FINIS. 


h2 


52  TJie  Affectionate  Shepheard. 


THE  COMPLAINT 
OF  CHASTITIE, 

BRIEFELY  TOUCHING  THE  CAUSE  OF  THE  DEATH 

OF  MATILDA  FITZWALTERS, 

AN  ENGLISH  LADIE  ;     SOMETIME  LO- 
VED OF  KING  lOHN,  AFTER  POY80NED.       THE  8T0RIE  18 
AT  LARGE  WRITTEN  BY    MICHAEL    DREYTON. 


I. 


YoTJ  modest  Dames,  inricht  with  Chastitie, 
Maske  your  bright  eyes  with  Vestaes  sable  vaile, 
Since  few  are  left  so  faire  or  chast  as  shee ; 
(Matter  for  me  to  weepe,  you  to  bewaile) : 
For  manie  seeming  so,  of  Vertue  faile ; 
Whose  louely  Cheeks  (with  rare  vermilion  tainted) 
Can  neuer  blush  because  their  faire  is  painted. 


The  Affectionate  Shepheard.  53 


n. 


O  faire-foule  Tincture,  staine  of  Woman-kinde, 
Mother  of  Mischiefe,  Daughter  of  Deceate, 
False  traitor  to  the  Soule,  blot  to  the  Minde, 
Vsurping  Tyrant  ot  true  Beauties  seate, 
Right  Cousner  of  the  eye,  lewd  Follies  baite, 
The  flag  of  filthines,  the  sinke  of  shame, 
The  Diuells  dye,  dishonour  of  thy  name. 


III. 


Monster  of  Art,  Bastard  of  bad  Desier, 
Il-worshipt  Idoll,  false  Imagerie, 
Ensigne  of  Vice,  to  thine  owne  solfe  a  lier. 
Silent  Inchaunter,  mindes  Anatomic, 
Sly  Bawd  to  Lust,  Pandor  to  Infamie, 

Slaunder  of  Truth,  Truth  of  Dissimulation  ; 

Staining  our  Clymate  more  than  anie  Nation. 


IV. 


What  shall  I  say  to  thee  ?  thou  scome  of  Nature. 
Blacke  spot  of  sinne,  vylde  lure  of  lecherie  ; 
Iniurious  Blame  to  euerie  faemale  creature, 
Wronger  of  time,  Broker  of  trecherie, 
Trap  of  greene  youth,  false  Womens  witcherie, 

Hand-maid  of  pride,  high-way  to  wickednesse ; 

Yet  path -way  to  Bepcntance,  ncre  the  lesse. 


55" 


HELLENS   KAPE, 


OR 


A  Light  Lanthorne  for  Light  Ladies. 

Written  iyi  English  Hexameters. 


Louely  a  Lasse,  so  loued  a  Lasse,  and  (alas)  such  a  louing 

Lasse,  for  a  while  (but  a  while)  was  none  such  a  sweet  bonny  Lasse 

As  Helen,  Mgenelaus  louing,  lou'd,  louelie  a  loue-lasse, 

Till  spightfull  Fortune  from  a  loue-lasse  made  her  a  loue-lesse 

Wife.     From  a  wise  woman  to  a  witles  wanton  abandond, 

When  her  mate  (vnawares)  made  warres  in  Peloponessus, 

Adultrous  Paris  (then  a  Boy)  kept  sheepe  as  a  shepheard 

On  Ida  Mountaine,  vnknowne  to  the  King  for  a  Keeper 

Of  sheep,  on  Ida  Mountaine,  as  a  Boy,  as  a  shepheard : 

Yet  such  sheep  he  kept,  and  was  so  seemelic  a  shepheard, 

Seemlie  a  Boy,  so  seemlie  a  youth,  so  scemlie  a  Younker, 

That  on  Ida  was  not  such  a  Boy,  such  a  youth,  such  a  Younker. 

Sonne  now  reconcil'd  to  the  Father,  fained  a  letter 

Sent  him  by  lupiter  (the  greatest  God  in  Olympus) 

For  to  repaire  with  specde  to  the  brauest  Graecian  Ilaucn, 

And  to  redeeme  againe  Hesyone  latelic  rcuoltcd 

From  Troy  by  Ayax,  whom  she  had  newly  betrothed. 

Well,  so  well  be  told  his  tale  to  his  Aunt  Amaryllis 


56*  Hellens  Rape. 

That  Amaryllis,  (his  Aunt,)  obtained  aid  of  his  aged 
Syre,  that  he  sent  him  a  ship,  and  made  him  Capten  of  Argus. 
Great  store  went  to  Greece  with  lust-bewitched  Alexis, 
Telamour,  and  Tydias  :  with  these  he  sliceth  the  salt  seas, 
The  salt  seas  slicing,  at  length  he  comes  to  the  firme  land, 
Firme  land,  an  auntient  Hand  cald  old  Lacedsemon. 
Argus  (eyef  all  Earle)  when  first  the  ken  of  a  Castle 
He  had  spide  bespake  :  (to  the  Mate,  to  the  men,  the  Mates-men) 
Lo  behold  of  Greece  (quoth  he)  the  great  Cytadella, 
(Ycleaped  Menela)  so  tearmd  of  Deliaes  Husband  : 
Happie  Helen,  Womens  most  woonder,  beautifull  Helen. 
Oh  would  God  (quoth  he)  with  a  flattring  Tongue  he  repeated : 
Oh  would  God  (quoth  he)  that  I  might  deserue  to  be  husband 
To  such  a  happie  huswife,  to  such  a  beautifull  Helen. 
This  he  spake  to  intice  the  minde  of  a  lecherous  young  man  : 
But  what  spurres  need  now,  for  an  vntam'd  Titt  to  be  trotting  : 
Or  to  add  old  Oile  to  the  flame,  new  flaxe  to  the  fier  : 
Paris  heard  him  hard,  and  gaue  good  eare  to  his  barkening  : 
And  then  his  loue  to  a  lust,  his  lust  was  turnd  to  a  fier, 
Pire  was  turnd  to  a  flame,  and  flame  was  turnd  to  a  burning 
Brand  :  and  mothers  Dreame  was  then  most  truelie  resolued. 
Well  so  far  th'  are  come,  that  now  th'  are  come  to  the  Castle, 
Castle  all  of  stone,  yet  euery  stone  was  a  Castle  : 
Euerie  foote  had  a  Port,  and  euerie  Port  had  a  fountaine, 
Euerie  fountaine  a  spring,  and  euerie  spring  had  a  spurting 
Streame :  so  strong  without,  within,  so  stately  a  building, 
Neuer  afore  was  scene  :  If  neuer  afore  Polyphoebe 
Was  scene,  was  to  be  scene,  if  nere  to  be  scene  was  Olympus. 
Plowers  were  framd  of  flints.  Walls,  Rubies,  Rafters  of  Argent : 
Pauements  of  Chrisolite,  Windows  contriu'd  of  a  Christall : 
Vessels  were  of  gold,  with  gold  was  each  thing  adorned  : 
Golden  Webs  more  worth  than  a  wealthy  Souldan  of  Egypt, 
And  her  selfe  more  worth  than  a  wealthy  Souldan  of  Egypt : 


Hellens  Bape.  57* 

And  her  selfe  more  worth  than  all  the  wealth  shee  possessed ; 

Selfe  ?  indeede  such  a  selfe,  as  Thundring  loue  in  Olympus, 

Though  he  were  father  could  finde  in  his  hart  to  be  husband. 

Embassage  ended,  to  the  Queene  of  faire  Lacedaemon ; 

(Happie  King  of  a  Queene  so  faire,  of  a  Country  so  famous) 

Embassage  ended,  a  Banquet  braue  was  appointed : 

Sweet  Repast  for  a  Prince,  fine  lunkets  fit  for  a  Kings  sonne. 

Biskets  and  Carrawayes,  Comfets,  Tart,  Plate,  lelly,  Ginge-bread, 

Lymons  and  Medlars  :  and  Dishes  moe  by  a  thousand. 

Eirst  they  fell  to  the  feast,  and  after  fall  to  a  Dauncing, 

And  from  a  Dance  to  a  Trance,  from  a  Trance  they  fell  to  a  falling 

Either  in  others  armes,  and  either  in  armes  of  another. 

Pastime  ouer-past,  and  Banquet  duely  prepared, 

Deuoutly  pared  :  Each  one  hies  home  to  his  owne  home, 

Saue  Lord  and  Ladie ;  Young  Lad,  but  yet  such  an  old  Lad, 

In  such  a  Ladies  lappe,  at  such  a  slipperie  by-blow. 

That  in  a  world  so  wide,  could  not  be  found  such  a  wilie 

Lad  :  in  an  Age  so  old,  could  not  be  found  such  an  old  lad  : 

Old  lad,  and  bold  lad,  such  a  Boy,  such  a  lustie  luuentus. 

Well  to  their  worke  they  goe,  and  both  they  iumble  in  one  Bed  : 

Worke  so  well  they  like,  that  they  still  like  to  be  working : 

For  Aurora  mounts  before  he  leaues  to  be  mounting : 

And  Astrea  fades  before  she  faints  to  be  falling  : 

(Helen  a  light  Huswife,  now  a  lightsome  starre  in  Olympus.) 


FINIS. 


^^^^xzint  Sonnecs,  andi^^^l 
\^*     the  Legend  of 


^  Printed  ^orHuinfrey^j?;;rp 

^^LoTvnef  ^  .tnd  are  to  hce  ^^)cx 
rfv,/.^     foiJ  atthe VVcftdoore  '^ 

ZiT'C         **^  Piulcs.  I  «r  y  f. 


II.     CYNTHIA,  WITH  CEETAINE  SONNETS  AND 
THE  LEGEND  OF  CASSANDRA. 

1595. 


Note. — As  in  "  The  Affectionate  Shepheard,"  the  original  title-page  of  "  Cynthia," 
&c.,  is  reproduced  in  fac-simile  opposite.  The  Beldornie  reprint  is  so  much  waste 
paper  from  its  multiplied  blunders.  The  copy  from  which  our  text  is  taken  is  in  the 
Bodleian. — G. 


CYNTHIA, 


WITH  CER- 

TAINE  SONNETS,  AND 

THE  LEGEND  OF 

CASSANDRA. 


Quod  cupio  nequeo. 


At  London, 

Printed  for  Humfrey 

Lownes,  and  are  to  bee 

sold' at  the  West  doore 

of  Pavles.     1595. 


i2 


61 


To  the  E/ight  Honorable,  and  most  noble-minded  Lorde,  William 
Stanley,  Earle  of  Darby,  &c. 

Right  Honorable,  the  dutifuU  affection  I  beare  to  your  manie 
vertues,  is  cause,  that  to  manifest  my  loue  to  your  Lordship,  I  am 
constrained  to  shew  my  simplenes  to  the  world.  Many  are  they 
that  admire  your  worth,  of  the  which  number,  I  (though  the 
meanest  in  abilitie,  yet  with  the  formost  in  affection)  am  one 
that  most  desire  to  serue,  and  onely  to  serue  your  Honour. 

Small  is  the  gift,  but  great  is  my  good- will ;  the  which,  by  how 
much  the  lesse  I  am  able  to  expresse  it,  by  so  much  the  more 
it  is  infinite.  Liue  long :  and  inherit  your  Predecessors  vertues, 
as  you  doe  their  dignitie  and  estate.  This  is  my  wish  :  the  which 
your  honorable  excellent  giftes  doe  promise  me  to  obtaine :  and 
whereof  these  few  rude  and  vnpoUished  lines,  are  a  true  (though 
an  vndeseruing)  testimony.  If  my  ability  were  better,  the  signes 
should  be  greater ;  but  being  as  it  is,  your  honour  must  take  me 
as  I  am,  not  as  I  should  be.  My  yeares  being  so  young,  my 
perfection  cannot  be  great :  But  howsoeuer  it  is,  yours  it  is ;  and 
I  myselfe  am  yours ;  in  all  humble  seruice,  most  ready  to  be 
commaunded. 

Richard  Bamefeilde. 


63 


To  the  curteous  Gentlemen  Readers. 

Gentlemen ;  the  last  Terme  there  came  forth  a  little  toy  of 
mine,  intituled.  The  affectionate  Shepheard :  In  the  which,  his 
Country  Content  found  such  friendly  favor,  that  it  hath  incouraged 
me  to  publish  my  second  fruites.  The  affectionate  Shepheard  being 
the  first :  howsoeuer  undeseruedly  (I  protest)  I  haue  beene  thought 
(of  some)  to  haue  been  the  authour  of  two  Books  heretofore.  I 
neede  not  to  name  them,  because  they  are  too- well  knowne  already; 
nor  will  I  deny  them,  because  they  are  dislik't ;  but  because  they 
are  not  mine.  This  protestation  (I  hope)  will  satisfie  th'  indifferent : 
and  as  for  them  that  are  maliciously  enuious,  as  I  cannot,  so  I  care 
not  to  please.  Some  there  were,  that  did  interpret  The  affectionate 
Shepheard,  otherwise  then  (in  truth)  I  meant,  touching  the  subiect 
thereof,  to  wit,  the  loue  of  a  Shepheard  to  a  boy ;  a  fault,  the 
which  I  will  not  excuse,  because  I  neuer  made.  Onely  this,  I  will 
vnshaddow  my  conceit :  being  nothing  else,  but  an  imitation  of 
Virgin,  in  the  second  Eglogue  of  Alexis.  In  one  or  two  places 
(in  this  Booke)  I  vse  the  name  of  JEliza  pastorally  :  wherein  lest 
any  one  should  misconster  my  meaning  (as  I  hope  none  will)  I 
haue  here  briefly  discouered  my  harmeles  conceipt  as  concerning 
that  name :  whereof  once  (in  a  simple  Shepheards  deuice)  I  wrot 
this  Epigramme — 


64 


One  name  there  is,  which  name  aboue  all  other 
I  most  esteeme,  as  time  and  place  shall  proue  : 
The  one  is  Vesta,  th'  other  Cupids  mother. 
The  first  my  Goddesse  is,  the  last  my  loue  ; 

Subiect  to  Both  I  am  :  to  that  by  birth ; 

To  this  for  beautie ;  fairest  on  the  earth. 

Thus,  hoping  you  will  beare  with  my  rude  conceit  of  Cynthia, 
(if  for  no  other  cause,  yet,  for  that  it  is  the  first  imitation  of  the 
verse  of  that  excellent  Poet  Maister  Spencer,  in  his  Fayrie  Queene), 
I  leaue  you  to  the  reading  of  that,  which  I  so  much  desire  may 
breed  your  Delight. 

Richard  Barnefeild. 


65 


T.  T.  in  commendation  of  the  Authour,  his  Worke. 

Whylom  that  in  a  shepheards  gray  coate  masked 

(Where  masked  loue  the  nonage  of  his  skill), 

Reares  new  Eagle-winged  pen,  new  tasked, 

To  scale  the  by-clift  Muse  sole-pleasing  hill : 

Dropping  sweete  Nectar  poesie  from  his  quill, 
Admires  faire  CYNTHIA  with  his  iuory  pen, 
Faire  CYNTHIA  lou'd,  fear'd,  of  Gods  and  men. 

Downe  sliding  from  that  cloudes  ore-pearing  moimteine  : 
Decking  with  double  grace  the  neighbour  plaines, 
Drawes  chrystall  dew,  from  PEGASE  foote-sprung  fountain, 
"Whose  flower-set  banks  delights,  sweet  choice  containes  : 
Nere  yet  discouerd  to  the  country  swaines : 

Heere  bud  those  branches,  which  adome  his  turtle, 
With  loue  made  garlands,  of  heart-bleeding  Mirtle. 

Hays'd  from  the  cynders  of  the  thrice-sact  towne  : 
ILLIONS  sooth-telling  SYBILLIST  appeares. 
Eclipsing  Phaebvs'  loue,  with  scornefuU  frowne, 
Whose  tragicke  end,  affords  warme-water  teares, 
Eor  pitty  wanting  PACOE,  none  forbeares, 
Such  period  haps,  to  beauties  price  ore-priz'd : 
Where  lANVS-faced  loue,  doth  lurke  disguiz'd. 

Nere  waining  CYNTHIA  yeelds  thee  triple  thankes, 
Whose  beames  vnborrowed  darke  the  worlds  faire  eie. 
And  as  full  streames  that  euer  fill  their  bankes, 
So  those  rare  Sonnets,  where  wits  tipe  doth  lie. 
With  Troian  Nimph,  doe  scare  thy  fame  to  skie. 
And  those,  and  these,  contend  thy  Muse  to  raise 
(Larke  mounting  Muse)  with  more  then  common  praise. 

K 


66 


TO  HIS  MISTRESSE. 


Bright  Starre  of  Beauty,  fairest  Paire  aliue, 
Rare  president  of  peerelesse  chastity ; 
(In  whom  the  Muses  and  the  Graces  striue, 
Which  shall  possesse  the  chiefest  part  of  thee :) 
Oh  let  these  simple  lines  accepted  bee : 
Which  here  I  offer  at  thy  sacred  shrine  : 
Sacred,  because  sweet  Beauty  is  diuine. 

And  though  I  cannot  please  each  curious  care, 
With  sugred  Noates  of  heauenly  Harmonic : 
Yet  if  my  loue  shall  to  thy  selfe  appeare, 
No  other  Muse  I  will  inuoke  but  thee : 
And  if  thou  wilt  my  faire  Thalia  be, 

He  sing  sweet  Hymnes  and  praises  to  thy  name. 
In  that  cleare  Temple  of  eternal  Pame. 

But  oh  (alas)  how  can  mine  infant  Muse 
(That  neuer  heard  of  Selicon  before) 
Perf orme  my  promise  past ;  when  they  refuse 
Poore  Shepheards  Plaints ;  yet  wiU  I  still  adore 
Thy  sacred  Name,  although  I  write  no  more  : 

Yet  hope  I  shall,  if  this  accepted  bee : 

If  not,  in  silence  sleepe  eternally. 


67 


CYNTHIA. 


I. 


Now  was  the  Welkyn  all  inuelloped 

With  duskie  Mantle  of  the  sable  Night : 
And  CYNTHIA,  lifting  up  her  drouping  head, 
Blusht  at  the  Beautie  of  her  borrowed  light. 
When  Sleepe  now  summon' d  euery  mortal  wight. 
Then  loe  (me  thought)  I  saw  or  seem'd  to  see, 
An  heauenly  Creature  like  an  Angell  bright, 
That  in  great  haste  came  pacing  towards  me : 

Was  neuer  mortall  eye  beheld  so  faire  a  Shee. 


II. 


Thou  lazie  man  (quoth  she)  what  mak'st  thou  heere 
(Luld  in  the  lap  of  Honours  Enimie  ?) 
I  heere  commaund  thee  now  for  to  appeare 
(By  vertue  of  Loues  mickle  Maiestie) 
In  yonder  Wood.     (Which  with  her  finger  shee 
Out-poynting)  had  no  sooner  tum'd  her  face, 
And  leaning  mee  to  muze  what  she  should  bee, 
Yuanished  into  some  other  place  : 

But  straite  (me  thought)  I  saw  a  rout  of  heauenlie  Race. 

k2 


68  Cynthia. 


III. 


Downe  in  a  Dale,  hard  by  a  Porrest  side, 
(Vnder  tlie  shaddow  of  a  loftie  Pine) 
Not  far  from  whence  a  trickling  streame  did  glide. 
Did  nature  by  her  secret  art  combine, 
A  pleasant  Arbour,  of  a  spreading  Vine : 
Wherein  Art  stroue  with  nature  to  compaire, 
That  made  it  rather  seeme  a  thing  diuine 
Being  scituate  all  in  the  open  Aire : 

A  fairer  nere  was  seene,  if  any  seene  so  faire. 


IV. 


There  might  one  see,  and  yet  not  see  (indeede) 
Presh  Flora  flourishing  in  chiefest  Prime, 
Arrayed  all  in  gay  and  gorgeous  weede. 
The  Primrose,  and  sweet-smelling  Eglantine 
As  fitted  best  beguiling  so  the  time  : 
And  euer  as  she  went  she  strewd  the  place, 
Red-roses  mixt  with  Daffadillies  fine, 
Eor  Gods  and  Goddesses,  that  in  like  case 

In  this  same  order  sat,-  with  il-beseeming  grace. 


First 


Cynthia.  69 


V. 


First,  in  a  royall  Chaire  of  massie  gold, 

(Bard  all  about  with  plates  of  burning  steele) 

Sat  lupiter  most  glorious  to  behold. 

And  in  his  hand  was  placed  Fortunes  wheele ; 

The  which  he  often  tum'd,  and  oft  did  reele. 

And  next  to  him,  in  griefe  and  gealouzie, 

(If  sight  may  censure  what  the  heart  doth  feele) 

In  sad  lament  was  placed  Mercurie  ; 

That  dying  seem'd  to  weep,  &  weeping  seem'd  to  die. 


VI. 


On  th'  other  side,  aboue  the  other  twaine, 
(Delighting  as  it  seem'd  to  sit  alone) 
Sat  Mulciber  ;  in  pride  and  high  disdaine, 
Mounted  on  high  vpon  a  stately  throne, 
And  euen  with  that  I  heard  a  deadly  grone  : 
Muzing  at  this,  &  such  an  vncouth  sight, 
(Not  knowing  what  shoulde  make  that  piteous  mone) 
I  saw  three  furies,  all  in  Armour  dight. 

With  euery  one  a  Lampe,  and  euery  one  a  light. 


70  Cynthia. 


VII. 


I  deemed  so  ;  nor  was  I  much  deceau'd, 
Por  poured  forth  in  sensuall  Delight, 
There  might  I  see  of  Sences  quite  bereau'd 
King  Friams  Sonne,  that  Alexander  hight 
(Wrapt  in  the  Mantle  of  etemall  Night), 
And  vnder  him,  awaiting  for  his  fall. 
Sate  Shame,  here  Death,  &  there  sat  fel  Despight, 
That  with  their  Horrour  did  his  heart  appall : 

Thus  was  his  Blisse  to  Bale,  his  Hony  turn'd  to  gall. 


VIII. 

In  which  delight  feeding  mine  hungry  eye, 
Of  two  great  Goddesses  a  sight  I  had. 
And  after  them  in  wondrous  lollity, 
(As  one  that  inly  ioy'd,  so  was  she  glad), 
The  Queene  of  Loue  full  royallie  yclad ; 
In  glistring  golde,  and  peerelesse  precious  stone 
There  might  I  spie ;  and  her  Companion  bad, 
Proud  Faris,  Nephew  to  Laomedon 

That  afterward  did  cause  the  Death  of  many  a  one. 


By 


Cynthia.  71 


IX. 


By  this  the  formost  melting  all  in  teares, 
And  rayning  downe  resolued  Pearls  in  showers, 
Gan  to  approach  the  place  of  heauenly  Pheares, 
And  with  her  weeping,  watring  all  their  Bowers, 
Throwing  sweet  Odors  on  those  fading  flowers, 
At  length,  she  them  bespake  thus  mournfullie. 
High  loue  (quoth  she)  and  yee  Cselestiall  powers. 
That  here  in  Judgement  sit  twixt  her  and  mee. 

Now  listen  (for  a  while)  and  iudge  with  equitie. 


X. 


Sporting  our  selues  to  day,  as  wee  were  wont 
(I  meane,  I,  Dallas,  aad  the  Queene  of  Loue), 
Intending  with  Diana  for  to  hunt. 
On  Ida  Mountaine  top  our  skill  to  proue, 
A  golden  Ball  was  trindled  from  aboue. 
And  on  the  Rinde  was  writ  this  Poesie 
PVLCHERIMiE,  for  which  a  while  we  stroue. 
Each  saying  shee  was  fairest  of  the  three. 

When  loe  a  shepheard  Swaine  not  far  away  we  see. 


72  Cynthia. 


XI. 


I  spi'd  him  first,  and  spying  thus  hespake, 
Shall  yonder  Swaine  vnfolde  the  mysterie  ? 
Agreed  (quoth  Venus)  and  by  Stygian  Lake, 
To  whom  he  giues  the  ball  so  shall  it  bee  : 
Nor  from  his  censure  will  I  flie,  quoth  shee, 
(Poynting  to  Pallas)  though  I  loose  the  gole. 
Thus  euery  one  yplac'd  in  her  degree, 
The  Shepheard  comes,  whose  partial  eies  gan  role, 

And  on  our  beuties  look't,  and  of  our  beuties  stole. 


XII. 


I  promis'd  wealth,  Minerua  promised  wit, 
(Shee  promis'd  wit  to  him  that  was  vnwise,) 
But  he  (fond  foole)  had  soone  refused  it. 
And  minding  to  bestow  that  glorious  Prize 
On  Venus,  that  with  pleasure  might  suffize 
His  greedie  minde  in  loose  lasciviousnes  : 

.  Vpon  a  sudden,  wanting  goode  aduice, 
Holde  here  (quoth  he)  this  golden  Ball  possesse. 

Which  JParis  giues  to  thee  for  meede  of  worthines. 


Thus 


Cynthia.  73 


XIII. 

Thus  haue  I  shew'd  the  summe  of  all  my  sute, 
And  as  a  PlaintifFe  heere  appeale  to  thee, 
And  to  the  rest.     Whose  folly  I  impute 
To  filthie  lust,  and  partialitie, 
That  made  him  iudge  amisse :  and  so  doe  we 
(Quoth  Pallas^  Vemis,)  nor  will  I  gaine-say. 
Although  it's  mine  by  right,  yet  willinglie, 
I  heere  disclaime  my  title  and  obey  : 

When  silence  being  made,  loue  thus  began  to  sale. 


XIV. 


Thou,  Venus,  art  my  darling,  thou  my  deare 
{Minerua),  shee,  my  sister  and  my  wife  : 
So  tliat  of  all  a  due  respect  I  beare, 
Assign'd  as  one  to  end  this  doubtfull  strife 
(Touching  your  forme,  your  fame,  your  loue,  your  life', 
Beauty  is  vaine  much  like  a  gloomy  light. 
And  wanting  wit  is  counted  but  a  trife. 
Especially  when  Honour's  put  to  flight : 

Thus  of  a  louely,  soone  becomes  a  loathly  sight. 


AVit 


74  Cynthia. 


XV. 


Wit  without  wealth  is  bad,  yet  counted  good, 

Wealth  wanting  wisdom's  worse,  yet  deem'd  as  wel, 

Erom  whence  (for  ay)  doth  flow,  as  from  a  flood, 

A  pleasant  Poyson,  and  a  heauenly  Hell, 

Where  mortall  men  do  couet  still  to  dwell. 

Yet  one  there  is  to  Vertue  so  inclin'd, 

That  as  for  Maiesty  she  beares  the  Bell, 

So  in  the  truth  who  tries  her  princelie  minde. 

Both  Wisdom,  Beauty,  Wealth,  &  all  in  her  shall  find. 


XVI. 


In  Westerne  world  amids  the  Ocean  maine. 
In  compleat  Vertue  shining  like  the  Sunne, 
In  great  Benowne  a  maiden  Queene  doth  raigne, 
Whose  royall  Bace,  in  Buine  first  begun. 
Till  Heauens  bright  Lamps  dissolue  shall  nere  bee  done 
In  whose  faire  eies  Loue  linckt  with  vertues  been. 
In  euerlasting  Peace  and  Vnion. 
Which  sweet  Consort  in  her  full  well  beseeme. 

Of  Bounty,  and  of  Beauty  fairest  Payrie  Queene. 


And 


Cynthia.  lb 


XVII. 

And  to  conclude,  the  gifts  in  her  yfound, 
Are  all  so  noble,  royall,  and  so  rare, 
That  more  and  more  in  her  they  doe  abound ; 
In  her  most  peerelesse  Prince  without  compare. 
Endowing  still  her  minde  with  vertuous  care  : 
That  through  the  world  (so  wide)  the  flying  fame 
(And  name  that  Enuies  selfe  cannot  impaire), 
Is  blown  of  this  faire  Queen,  this  gorgeous  dame, 

Eame  borrowing  al  mes  mouths  to  royalize  the  same. 


XVIII. 

And  with  this  sentence  Jupiter  did  end, 

This  is  the  pricke  (quoth  he),  this  is  the  praies. 
To  whom,  this  as  a  Present  I  will  send, 
That  shameth  Cynthia  in  her  siluer  Raies, 
If  so,  you  tliree  this  deed  doe  not  displease. 
Then  one,  and  all,  and  euery  one  of  them, 
To  her  that  is  the  honour  of  her  dales, 
A  second  Iiidith  in  lervaalem, 

To  her  we  send  this  Pearle,  this  lewell,  and  this  lem. 


Then 
l2 


76  Cynthia. 


XIX. 


Then  call'd  he  vp  the  winged  Mercury, 

(The  mighty  Messenger  of  Gods  enrold,) 

And  bad  him  hither  hastily  to  hie ; 

Who  tended  by  her  Nymphes  he  should  behold, 

(Like  Pearles  ycouched  all  in  shining  gold) 

And  euen  with  that,  fro  pleasant  slumbring  sleepe, 

(Desiring  much  these  wonders  to  vnfold) 

I  wakening,  when  Aurora  gan  to  peepe, 
Depriu'd  so  soone  of  my  sweet  Dreame,  gan  almost  weepe. 


The  Conclusion. 

Thus,  sacred  Virgin,  Muse  of  chastitie, 

This  difference  is  betwixt  the  Moone  and  thee  : 
She  shines  by  Night ;  but  thou  by  Day  do'st  shine 
Shee  Monthly  changeth ;  thou  dost  nere  decline : 
And  as  the  Sunne,  to  her,  doth  lend  his  light, 
So  hee,  by  thee,  is  onely  made  so  bright : 
Yet  neither  Sun,  nor  Moone,  thou  canst  be  named. 

Because  thy  light  hath  both  their  beauties  shamed  : 
Then,  since  an  heauenly  Name  doth  thee  befall. 
Thou  VIRGO  art :  (if  any  Signe  at  all). 

FINIS. 


Sonnets.  77 


SONNET  I. 


Sporting  at  fancie,  setting  light  by  loue, 
There  came  a  theefe,  and  stole  away  my  heart 
(And  therefore  robd  me  of  my  chiefest  part) : 

Yet  cannot  Reason  him  a  felon  proue. 

For  why  his  beauty  (my  hearts  thief e)  affirmeth, 
Piercing  no  skin  (the  bodies  fensiue  wall) 
And  hauing  leaue,  and  free  consent  withall, 

Himselfe  not  guilty,  whom  loue  guilty  tearmeth, 

Conscience  the  ludge,  twelue  Reasons  are  the  lurie, 
They  finde  mine  eies  the  beutie  t'  haue  let  in, 
And  on  this  verdict  giuen,  agreed  they  bin, 

Wherefore,  because  his  beauty  did  allure  yee, 

Your  Doome  is  this  :  in  teares  still  to  be  drowned, 
When  his  faire  forehead  with  disdaine  is  frowned. 


Beauty 


78  Sonnets. 


II. 


Beauty  and  Maiesty  are  falne  at  ods, 

Th'  one  claimes  his  cheeke,  the  other  claimes  his  chin ; 

Then  Vertue  comes,  and  puts  her  title  in. 
(Quoth  she)  I  make  him  like  th'  immortall  Gods. 
(Quoth  Maiestie)  I  owne  his  lookes,  his  Brow, 

His  lips  (quoth  Loue),  his  eies,  his  faire  is  mine. 

And  yet  (quoth  Maiesty)  he  is  not  thine, 
I  mixe  Disdaine  with  Loue's  congealed  Snow. 
I,  but  (quoth  Loue)  his  lockes  are  mine  (by  right), 

His  stately  gate  is  mine  (quoth  Maiestie), 

And  mine  (quoth  Vertue)  is  his  Modestie. 
Thus  as  they  striue  about  the  heauenly  wight, 

At  last  the  other  two  to  Vertue  yeeld 

The  lists  of  Loue,  fought  in  faire  Beauties  field. 


The 


Sonnet^.  79 


III. 


The  Stoicks  thinke,  (and  they  come  neare  the  truth,] 
That  vertue  is  the  chiefest  good  of  all, 
The  Academicks  on  Idea  call. 

The  Epicures  in  pleasure  spend  their  youth, 

The  Perrepatetickes  iudge  felicitie. 

To  be  the  chiefest  good  aboue  all  other. 

One  man,  thinks  this  ;  &  that  conceaues  another  : 

So  that  in  one  thing  very  few  agree. 

Let  Stoicks  haue  their  Vertue  if  they  will, 
And  all  the  rest  their  chiefe-supposed  good, 
Let  cruel  Martialists  delight  in  blood. 

And  Mysers  ioy  their  bags  with  gold  to  fill : 
My  chiefest  good,  my  chiefe  felicity, 
Is  to  be  gazing  on  my  loues  faire  eie. 


IVo 


80  Sonnets. 


nil. 

Two  stars  there  are  in  one  faire  firmament 
(Of  some  intitled  Ganymedes  sweet  face), 
Which  other  stars  in  brightnes  doe  disgrace. 

As  much  as  JPo  in  clearenes  passeth  Trent. 

Nor  are  they  common  natur'd  stars ;  for  why, 
These  stars  whe  other  shine  vaile  their  pure  light, 
And  when  all  other  vanish  out  of  sight. 

They  adde  a  glory  to  the  worlds  great  eie : 

By  these  two  stars  my  life  is  only  led. 

In  them  I  place  my  ioy,  in  them  my  pleasure, 
Loue's  piercing  Darts,  &  Natures  precious  treasure 

With  their  sweet  f oode  my  fainting  soule  is  fed  : 
Then  when  my  sunne  is  absent  from  my  sight 
How  can  it  chuse  (with  me)  but  be  darke  night  ? 


It 


Sonnets  >  81 


It  is  reported  of  faire  Thetis*  Sonne 
(Achilles  famous  for  his  chiualry, 
His  noble  minde  and  magnanimitie), 

That  when  the  Troian  wars  were  new  begun, 

Whos'euer  was  deepe-wounded  with  his  speare, 
Could  neuer  be  recured  of  his  maime, 
Nor  euer  after  be  made  whole  againe : 

Except  with  that  speares  rust  he  holpen  were. 

Euen  so  it  fareth  with  my  fortune  now, 
Who  being  wounded  with  his  piercing  eie, 
Must  either  thereby  finde  a  remedy. 

Or  els  to  be  releeu'd  I  know  not  how. 

Then  if  thou  hast  a  minde  still  to  annoy  me, 
Kill  me  with  kisses,  if  thou  wilt  destroy  me. 


Sweete 

M 


82  Sonnets. 


VI. 


Sweete  Corrall  lips,  where  Natures  treasure  lies, 
The  balme  of  blisse,  the  soueraigne  salue  of  sorrow, 
The  secret  touch  of  loues  heart-burning  arrow. 

Come  quench  my  thirst  or  els  poor  Daphnis  dies. 

One  night  I  dream' d  (alas  twas  but  a  Dreame) 
That  I  did  feele  the  sweetnes  of  the  same, 
Where-with  inspir'd,  I  young  againe  became. 

And  from  my  heart  a  spring  of  blood  did  streame, 

But  when  I  wak't,  I  found  it  nothing  so, 

Saue  that  my  limbs  (me  thought)  did  waxe  more  strong. 
And  I  more  lusty  far,  &  far  more  yong. 

This  gift  on  him  rich  Nature  did  bestow. 
Then  if  in  dreaming  so,  I  so  did  speede, 
What  should  I  doe,  if  I  did  so  indeede  ? 


Sweet 


Sonnets.  83 


VII. 

Sweet  Thames  I  honour  thee,  not  for  thou  art 
The  chiefest  Riuer  of  the  fairest  He, 
Nor  for  thou  dost  admirers  eies  beguile, 
But  for  thou  hold'st  the  keeper  of  my  heart, 
Por  on  thy  wanes  (thy  Christal-billow'd  wanes), 
My  fairest  faire,  my  siluer  Swan  is  swimming  : 
Against  the  sunne  his  pruned  feathers  trimming 
Whilst  Neptune  his  faire  feete  with  water  lanes, 
Neptune,  I  feare  not  thee,  nor  yet  thine  eie, 
And  yet  (alas)  Apollo  lou'd  a  boy. 
And  Cyparissus  was  Siluamis  ioy. 
No,  no,  I  feare  none  but  faire  Thetis,  I, 
For  if  she  spie  my  Lone  (alas),  aie  me, 
My  mirth  is  turn'd  to  extreame  miserie. 


Sometimes 
M  2 


84  Sonnets. 


VIII. 

Sometimes  I  wish  that  I  his  pillow  were, 
So  might  I  steale  a  kisse,  and  yet  not  seene, 
So  might  I  gaze  upon  his  sleeping  eine, 

Although  I  did  it  with  a  panting  feare  : 

But  when  I  well  consider  how  vain  my  wish  is. 
Ah  foolish  Bees  (thinke  I)  that  doe  not  sucke 
His  lips  for  hony ;  but  poore  flowers  doe  plucke 

Which  haue  no  sweet  in  them :  when  his  sole  kisses, 

Are  able  to  reuiue  a  dying  soule. 

Kisse  him,  but  sting  him  not,  for  if  you  doe. 
His  angry  voice  your  flying  will  pursue  : 

But  when  they  heare  his  tongue,  what  can  controule 
Their  back-returne  ?  for  then  they  plaine  may  see 
How  hony-combs  from  his  lips  dropping  bee. 


Diana 


Sonnets.  35 


IX. 


Diana  (on  a  time)  walking  the  wood, 

To  sport  herselfe,  of  lier  faire  traine  forlome, 
Chaunc't  for  to  pricke  her  foote  against  a  thome. 

And  from  thence  issu'd  out  a  streame  of  blood. 

No  sooner  shee  was  vanisht  out  of  sight, 

But  loues  faire  Queen  came  there  away  by  chace. 
And  hauing  of  this  hap  a  glym'ring  glance. 

She  put  the  blood  into  a  christall  bright ; 

When  being  now  comme  unto  mount  Rhodopd 
With  her  faire  hands  she  formes  a  shape  of  Snow, 
And  blends  it  with  this  blood  ;  from  whence  doth  grow 

A  lonely  creature,  brighter  than  the  Day. 
And  being  christned  in  faire  Faphos  shrine. 
She  call'd  him  Ganymede :  as  aU  diuine. 


Thus 


86  Sonnets. 


X. 


Thus  was  my  loue,  tlius  was  my  Ganymed, 

(Heauens  ioy,  worlds  wonder,  natures  fairest  work, 
In  whose  aspect  Hope  and  Dispaire  doe  lurke,) 
Made  of  pure  blood  in  whitest  snow  yshed, 
And  for  sweet  Venus  only  form'd  his  face, 
And  his  each  member  delicately  framed. 
And  last  of  all  faire  Ganymede  him  named. 
His  limbs  (as  their  Creatrix)  her  imbrace. 
But  as  for  his  pure,  spotles,  vertuous  minde. 
Because  it  sprung  of  chaste  Dianaes  blood 
(Goddesse  of  Maides,  directresse  of  all  good), 
It  wholy  is  to  chastity  inclinde. 

And  thus  it  is  :  as  far  as  I  can  proue. 
He  loues  to  be  beloued,  but  not  to  loue. 


Sighi:  g 


Sonnets.  87 


XI. 


Sighing,  and  sadly  sitting  by  my  loue, 
He  askt  the  cause  of  my  hearts  sorrowing, 
Coniuring  me  by  heauens  etemall  King, 

To  tell  the  cause  which  me  so  much  did  moue. 

Compell'd :  (quoth  I)  to  thee  will  I  confesse, 
Loue  is  the  cause  ;  and  only  loue  it  is 
That  doth  depriue  me  of  my  heauenly  blisse, 

Loue  is  the  paine  that  doth  my  heart  oppresse. 

And  what  is  she  (quoth  he)  who  thou  dos't  loue  ? 
Looke  in  this  glasse  (quoth  I)  there  shalt  thou  see 
The  perfect  forme  of  my  felicitie. 

When,  thinking  that  it  would  strage  Magique  proue, 
He  open'd  it :  and  taking  off  the  couer 
He  straight  perceau'd  himselfe  to  be  my  Louer. 


Some 


88  Sonnets. 


XII. 

Some  talke  of  Ganymede  th'  Idalian  Boy 
And  some  of  faire  Adonis  make  their  boast, 
Some  talke  of  hun  whom  lovely  Lceda  lost, 

And  some  of  Ecchoes  loue  that  was  so  coy. 

They  spoke  by  heere-say,  I  of  perfect  truth, 
They  partially  commend  the  persons  named, 
And  for  them,  sweet  Encomions  haue  framed  : 

I  onely  t'  him  haue  sacrifiz'd  my  youth. 

As  for  those  wonders  of  antiquitie. 

And  those  whom  later  ages  haue  inioy'd 
(But  ah  what  hath  not  cruell  death  destroide  ? 

Death,  that  enuies  this  worlds  felicitie). 

They  were  (perhaps)  lesse  faire  then  Poets  write, 
But  he  is  fairer  then  I  can  endite. 


Speake 


Sonnets.  89 


XIII. 

Speake  Eccho,  tell ;  how  may  I  call  my  loue  ?  Love. 
But  how  his  Lamps  that  are  so  christaline  ?  Eyne. 
Oh  happy  starrs  that  make  your  heauens  divine : 

And  happy  lems  that  admiration  moue. 

How  tearm'st  his  golde  tresses  wau'd  with  aire  ?     Haire. 
Oh  louely  haire  of  your  more-louely  Maister, 
Image  of  loue,  faire  shape  of  Alablaster, 

Why  do'st  thou  driue  thy  Louer  to  dispaire  ? 

How  dost  thou  cal  the  bed  wher  beuty  grows  ?     Rose. 
Paire  virgine-Rose,  whose  mayden  blossoms  couer 
The  milke-white  Lilly,  thy  imbracing  Louer  : 

Whose  kisses  make  the  oft  thy  red  to  lose. 

And  blushing  oft  for  shame,  whe  he  hath  kist  thee, 
He  vades  away,  and  thou  raing'st  where  it  list  thee. 


Heere 

N 


90  Sonnets. 


XIIII. 

Heere,  hold  this  gloue  (this  milk-white  cheueril  gloue) 
Not  quaintly  ouer-wrought  with  curious  knots, 
Nor  deckt  with  golden  spangs,  nor  siluer  spots ; 

Yet  wholsome  for  thy  hand  as  thou  shalt  proue. 

Ah  no ;  (sweet  boy)  place  this  gloue  neere  thy  heart, 
Weare  it,  and  lodge  it  still  within  thy  brest, 
So  shalt  thou  make  me  (most  vnhappy)  blest. 

So  shalt  thou  rid  my  paine,  and  ease  my  smart : 

How  can  that  be  (perhaps)  thou  wilt  reply, 
A  gloue  is  for  the  hand  not  for  the  heart. 
Nor  can  it  well  be  prou'd  by  common  art. 

Nor  reasons  rule.  To  this,  thus  answere  I : 
If  thou  from  gloue  do'st  take  away  the  g, 
Then  gloue  is  loue  :  and  so  I  send  it  thee. 


Sonnets.  9X 


XV. 


A[h]  fairest  Gcmymede,  disdaine  me  not, 

Though  silly  Sheepeheard  I,  presume  to  loue  thee, 
Though  my  harsh  songs  and  Sonnets  cannot  moue  thee. 

Yet  to  thy  beauty  is  my  loue  no  blot. 

Apollo,  Joue,  and  many  Gods  beside, 

S'  daind  not  the  name  of  cutry  shepheards  swains. 
Nor  want  we  pleasure,  though  we  take  some  pains. 

We  Hue  contentedly  :  a  thing  call'd  pride, 

Which  so  corrupts  the  Court  and  euery  place 

(Each  place  I  meane  where  learning  is  neglected. 
And  yet  of  late,  euen  learning's  self e's  infected) , 

I  know  not  what  it  meanes,  in  any  case : 
Wee  onely  (when  Molorchus  gins  to  peepe.) 
Learne  for  to  folde,  and  to  vnfolde  our  sheepe. 


Loug 
N  2 


92  Sonnets. 


XVI. 

Long  haue  I  long'd  to  see  my  Loue  againe, 
Still  haue  I  wisht,  but  neuer  could  obtaine  it ; 
Rather  than  all  the  world  (if  I  might  gaine  it) 

Would  I  desire  my  loues  sweet  precious  gaine. 

Yet  in  my  soule  I  see  him  euerie  day, 

See  him,  and  see  his  still  sterne  countenaunce. 
But  (ah)  what  is  of  long  continuance, 

Where  Maiestie  &  Beautie  beares  the  sway  ? 

Sometimes,  when  I  imagine  that  I  see  him, 
(As  loue  is  full  of  foolish  fantasies) 
Weening  to  kisse  his  lips,  as  my  loues  fee's, 

I  feele  but  Aire  :  nothing  but  Aire  to  bee  him. 
Thus  with  Ixion,  kisse  I  clouds  in  vaine  : 
Thus  with  Ixion,  feele  I  endles  paine. 


Cherry 


Sonnets.  93 


XVII. 

Cherry-lipt  Adonis  in  his  snowie  shape, 

Might  not  compare  with  his  pure  luorie  white, 
On  whose  faire  front  a  Poets  pen  may  write. 

Whose  rosiate  red  excels  the  crimson  grape, 

His  loue-enticing  delicate  soft  limbs, 

Are  rarely  fram'd  t'  intrap  poore  gazing  eies  : 
His  cheekes,  the  Lillie  and  Carnation  dies. 

With  lonely  tincture  which  Apolloea  dims. 

His  lips  ripe  strawberries  in  Nectar  wet, 

His  mouth  a  Hiue,  his  tongue  a  hony-combe. 
Where  Muses  (like  Bees)  make  their  mansion. 

His  teeth  pure  Pearle  in  blushing  Correll  set. 
Oh  how  can  such  a  body  sinne-procuring. 
Be  slow  to  loue,  and  quicke  to  hate,  enduring  ? 


Not 


94'  Sonnets. 


XVIII. 

Not  Megabcetes,  nor  Cleonymus, 

(Of  whom  great  Plutarch  makes  such  mention 
Praysing  their  faire  with  rare  inuention) 

As  Ganymede  were  halfe  so  beauteous. 

They  onely  pleas' d  the  eies  of  two  great  Kings, 
But  all  the  worlde  at  my  loue  stands  amazed, 
Nor  one  that  on  his  Angels  face  hath  gazed, 

But  (rauisht  with  delight)  him  Presents  brings. 

Some  weaning  Lambs,  and  some  a  suckling  Kyd, 
Some  Nuts,  and  fil-beards,  others  Peares  &  Plums, 
Another  with  a  milk-white  Heyfar  comes ; 

As  lately  ^Egons  man  {Dammtas)  did ; 

But  neither  he,  nor  all  the  Nymphs  beside, 
Can  win  my  Ganymede^  with  them  t'abide. 


Ah 


Sonnets.  95 


XIX. 

Ah  no ;  nor  I  my  selfe  :  though  my  pure  loue 
(Sweete  Ganymede)  to  thee  hath  still  beene  pure, 
And  euen  till  my  last  gaspe  shall  aie  endure, 

Could  euer  thy  obdurate  beuty  moue : 

Then  cease  oh  Goddesse  sonne  (for  sure  thou  art, 
A  Goddesse  sonne  that  canst  resist  desire) 
Cease  thy  hard  heart,  and  entertaine  loues  fire 

Within  thy  sacred  breast :  by  Natures  art. 

And  as  I  loue  thee  more  then  any  Creature 
(Loue  thee,  because  thy  beautie  is  diuine  ; 
Loue  thee,  because  my  selfe,  my  soule  is  thine  : 

Wholie  denoted  to  thy  louelie  feature). 
Even  so  of  all  the  vowels,  I  and  V 
Are  dearest  vnto  me,  as  doth  ensue. 


But 


96  Sonnets. 


XX. 


But  now  my  Muse  toyld  with  continuall  care. 
Begins  to  faint,  and  slacke  her  former  pace. 
Expecting  fauour  from  that  heauenly  grace, 

That  maie  (in  time)  her  feehle  strength  repaire. 

Till  when  (sweete  youth)  th'  essence  of  my  soule, 
(Thou  that  dost  sit  and  sing  at  my  hearts  griefe. 
Thou  that  dost  send  thy  shepheard  no  reliefe :) 

Beholde,  these  lines ;  the  sonnes  of  Teares  and  Dole. 

Ah  had  great  Colin  chiefe  of  sheepheards  all, 
Or  gentle  Rowland,  my  professed  friend, 
Had  they  thy  heautie,  or  my  pennance  pend, 

Greater  had  beene  thy  fame,  and  lesse  my  fall : 
But  since  that  euerie  one  cannot  be  wittie. 
Pardon  I  craue  of  them,  and  of  thee,  pitty. 


FINIS. 


An  Ode.  97 


AN  ODE. 


Nights  were  short,  and  dales  were  long ; 
Blossoms  on  the  Hauthoms  hung : 
Fhilomele  (Night-Musiques  King) 
Tolde  the  comming  of  the  spring. 
Whose  sweete  siluer-sounding  voice 
Made  the  little  birds  reioice  : 
Skipping  light  from  spray  to  spray, 
Till  Aurora  shew'd  the  day. 
Scarce  might  one  see,  when  I  might  see 
(For  such  chaunces  sudden  bee) 
By  a  well  of  Marble-stone, 
A  shepheard  lying  all  alone. 
Weepe  he  did ;  and  his  weeping 
Made  the  fading  flowers  spring. 
Daphnis  was  his  name  (I  weene) 
Youngest  Swaine  of  Summers  Queene. 
"When  Aurora  saw  t'was  he, 
Weepe  she  did  for  companie : 


Weepe 


98  An  Ode. 


Weepe  she  did  for  her  sweete  sonne, 
That  (when  antique  Troy  was  wonne) 
Suffer' d  death  by  lucklesse  fate, 
Whom  she  now  laments  too  late  : 
And  each  morning  (by  Cocks  crew) 
Showers  down  her  siluer  dew. 
Whose  teares  (falling  from  their  spring) 
Giue  moysture  to  each  liuing  thing, 
That  on  earth  increase  and  grow, 
Through  power  of  their  friendlie  foe. 
Whose  effect  when  Flora  felt, 
Teares,  that  did  her  bosome  melt, 
(Eor  who  can  resist  teares  often 
But  Shee  whom  no  teares  can  soften  ?) 
Peering  straite  aboue  the  banks, 
Shew'd  herselfe  to  giue  her  thanks. 
Wondring  thus  at  Natures  worke, 
(Wherein  many  maruailes  lurke.) 


An  Ode,  99 


Me  thought  I  heard  a  doleful!  noise, 

Consorted  with  a  mournful  voice, 

Drawing  me  to  heare  more  plaine, 

Heare  I  did,  vnto  my  paine, 

(For  who  is  not  pain'd  to  heare 

Him  in  grief e  whom  heart  holdes  deare?) 

Silly  swaine  (with  grief  ore- gone) 

Thus  to  make  his  piteous  mone. 

Loue  I  did,  (alas  the  while) 

Loue  I  did,  but  did  beguile 

My  deare  loue  with  louing  so, 

(Whom  as  then  I  did  not  know.) 

Loue  I  did  the  fairest  boy. 

That  these  fields  did  ere  enioy. 

Loue  I  did,  fair  Ganymed  ; 

( Venus  darling,  beauties  bed ; ) 

Him  I  thought  the  fairest  creature ; 

Him  the  quintessence  of  Nature : 


But 

o2 


100  An  Ode. 


But  yet  (alas)  I  was  deceiu'd, 
(Loue  of  reason  is  bereau'd) 
Por  since  then  I  saw  a  Lasse, 
(Lasse)  that  did  in  beauty  passe, 
(Passe)  faire  Ganymede  as  farre 
As  Fh(Bbus  doth  the  smallest  starre. 
Loue  commaunded  me  to  loue, 
Fancy  bade  me  not  remoue 
My  affection  from  the  swaine 
Whom  I  neuer  could  obtaine : 
(For  who  can  obtaine  that  fauour, 
Which  he  cannot  graunt  the  crauer  ? ) 
Loue  at  last  (though  loath)  preuailde ; 
(Loue)  that  so  my  heart  assailde ; 
Wounding  me  with  her  faire  eies, 
(Ah  how  Loue  can  subtelize. 
And  denize  a  thousand  shifts. 
How  to  worke  men  to  his  drifts.) 


Her 


An  Ode.  101 


Her  it  is,  for  whom  I  mourne ; 
Her,  for  whom  my  life  I  scorne  ; 
Her,  for  whom  I  weepe  all  day ; 
Her,  for  whom  I  sigh,  and  say. 
Either  She,  or  els  no  creature, 
Shall  enioy  my  lone :  whose  feature 
Though  I  neuer  can  obtaine. 
Yet  shall  my  true  loue  remaine  : 
Till  (my  body  turn'd  to  clay) 
My  poore  soule  must  passe  away. 
To  the  heauens  ;  where  (I  hope) 
It  shall  finde  a  resting  scope : 
Then  since  I  loued  thee  (alone) 
Remember  me  when  I  am  gone. 
Scarce  had  he  these  last  words  spoken. 
But  me  thought  his  heart  was  broken ; 
With  great  griefe  that  did  abound, 
(Cares  and  griefe  the  heart  confound) 


In 


102  An  Ode. 


In  whose  heart  (thus  riu'd  in  three) 
ELIZA  written  I  might  see  : 
In  caracters  of  crimson  blood, 
(Whose  meaning  well  I  vnderstood) 
Which,  for  my  heart  might  not  behold, 
I  hyed  me  home  my  sheep  to  folde. 


PINIS. 


Cassandra.  103 


CASSANDRA. 


Vpon  a  gorgious  gold  embossed  bed, 
With  Tissue  curtaines  drawne  against  the  sunne, 
(Which  gazers  eies  into  amazement  led. 
So  curiously  the  workmanship  was  done,) 
Lay  faire  Cassandra  in  her  snowie  smocke, 
Whose  lips  the  Rubies  and  the  pearles  did  locke. 


And  from  her  luory  front  hung  dangling  downe, 
A  bush  of  long  and  louely  curled  haire  : 
Whose  head  impalled  with  a  precious  Crowne 
Of  orient  Pearle,  made  her  to  seeme  more  faire : 
And  yet  more  faire  she  hardly  could  be  thought 
Then  Loue  &  Nature  in  her  face  had  wrought. 


By  this,  young  Phcebus  rising  from  the  East 
Had  tane  a  view  of  this  rare  Paragon, 
Wherewith  he  soone  his  radiant  beames  addresst, 
And  with  great  ioy  her  (sleeping)  gaz'd  vpon  : 
Till  at  the  last,  through  her  light  casemets  cleare, 
He  stole  a  kisse  :  and  softly  called  her  Beare. 


104  Cassandra. 


Yet  not  so  softly  but  (therwith  awak't) 
She  gins  to  open  her  faire  chrystall  couers, 
Wherewith  the  wounded  God,  for  terror  quakt, 
(Viewing  those  darts  as  kill  disdained  louers  :) 
And  blushing  red  to  see  herselfe  so  shamed 
He  scorns  his  Coach  &  his  own  beauty  blamed. 


Now  with  a  trice  he  leaues  the  azure  skies, 
(As  whilome  loue  did  at  Europaes  rape) 
And  rauisht  with  her  loue-aluring  eies. 
He  turns  himselfe  into  a  humane  shape  : 
And  that  his  wish  the  sooner  might  ensue, 
He  sutes  himselfe  like  one  of  Venm  crew. 


Vpon  his  head  he  wore  a  Hunter's  hat 
Of  crimson  veluet  spangd  with  starres  of  gold, 
Which  grac'd  his  louely  face ;  and  ouer  that 
A  siluer  hatband  ritchly  to  behold : 

On  his  left  shoulder  hung  a  loose  Tyara, 
As  whilome  vs'd  faire  Fenthesilea, 


Cassandra.  105 


Faire  Penthesilea  th'  Amazonian  Queene, 
When  she  to  Troy  came  with  her  warlike  hand, 
Of  brave  Viragoes  glorious  to  he  seene ; 
Whose  manlike  force  no  power  might  withstand  : 
So  look't  Apollo  in  his  lonely  weedes, 
As  he  vnto  the  Troian  Damzell  speedes. 


Not  faire  Adonis  in  his  chief  est  pride. 
Did  seerae  more  faire,  then  young  Apollo  seemed, 
When  he  through  th'  aire  inuisibly  did  glide, 
T'  ohtaine  his  Loue,  which  he  Angelike  deemed : 
Whom  finding  in  her  chamber  all  alone, 
He  thus  begins  t'  expresse  his  piteous  mone. 


O  Fairest  faire,  aboue  all  faires  (quoth  hee) 
If  euer  Loue  obtained  Ladies  fauour. 
Then  shew  thyselfe  compassionate  to  me. 
Whose  head  surpriz'd  with  thy  diuine  behauior, 
Yeelds  myselfe  captiue  to  thy  conqu'ring  eies 
O  then  shew  mercy,  do  not  tyrannize. 


106  Cassandra. 


Scarce  had  Apollo  vtter'd  these  last  words 
(Rayning  downe  pearle  from  his  immortall  eies) 
When  she  for  answere,  nought  hut  feare  affords 
Filling  the  place  with  lamentable  cries : 
But  Phoebus  fearing  much  those  raging  fits, 
With  sugred  kisses  sweetely  charm'd  her  lips. 


(And  tells  her  softly  in  her  softer  eare) 
That  he  a  God  is,  and  no  mortall  creature : 
Wherewith  abandoning  all  needelesse  feare, 
(A  common  f railtie  of  weake  womans  nature) 
She  boldly  askes  him  of  his  deitie, 
Gracing  her  question  with  her  wanton  eie. 


Which  charge  to  him  no  sooner  was  assignde, 
But  taking  faire  Cassandra  by  the  hand, 
(The  true  bewraier  of  his  secrete  minde) 
He  first  begins  to  let  her  vnderstand, 

That  he  from  Demogorgon  was  descended  : 
Father  of  th'  Earth,  of  Gods  &  men  commended. 


Cassandra.  107 


The  tenor  of  which  tale  he  now  recites, 
Closing  each  period  with  a  rauisht  kisse : 
Which  kindnes,  she  vnwillingly  requites, 
Conioyning  oft  her  Corrall  lips  to  his : 

Not  that  she  lou'd  the  loue  of  any  one ; 

But  that  she  meant  to  cozen  him  anone. 


Hee  briefly  t'  her  relates  his  pedegree  : 
The  Sonne  of  loue,  sole  guider  of  the  sunne, 
He  that  slewe  Fython  so  victoriouslie, 
He  that  the  name  of  wisdomes  God  hath  wonne, 
The  God  of  Musique,  and  of  Poetry  : 
Of  Phisicke,  Learning,  and  Chirurgery. 


All  which  he  eloquently  reckons  vp, 
That  she  might  know  how  great  a  God  he  was 
And  being  charm' d  with  Cupid^s  golden  cup 
He  partial  lie  vnto  her  praise  doth  passe, 
Calling  her  tipe  of  honour,  Queen  of  beauty 
To  whom  all  eies  owe  tributary  duety. 


p2 


108  Cassandra. 


I  loued  one  (quoth  hee)  aie  me  I  lou'd 
As  faire  a  shape  as  euer  nature  framed ; 
Had  she  not  been  so  hard  t'  haue  been  remou'd. 
By  birth  a  sea-Nymph ;  cruell  Daphne  named  : 
Whom,  for  shee  would  not  to  my  will  agree. 
The  Gods  transform' d  into  a  Laurel  tree. 


Ah  therefore  be  not,  (with  that  word  he  kist  her) 
Be  not  (quoth  he)  so  proud  as  Daphne  was  : 
Ne  care  thou  for  the  anger  of  my  sister, 
She  cannot,  nay  she  shall  not  hurt  my  Biss : 
Por  if  she  doe  I  vow  (by  dreadfull  night) 
Neuer  againe  to  lend  her  of  my  light. 


This  said :  he  sweetly  doth  imbrace  his  loue, 
Yoaking  his  armes  about  her  luory  necke : 
And  calls  her  wanton  Venus  milk-white  Doue, 
Whose  ruddie  lips  the  damask  roses  decke. 
And  euer  as  his  tongue  compiles  her  praise, 
Loue  daintie  Dimples  in  her  cheekes  doth  raise. 


Cassandra.  109 


And  meaning  now  to  worke  her  stratagem 
Vpon  the  silly  God,  that  thinkes  none  ill. 
She  hugs  him  in  her  armes,  and  kisses  him ; 
(Th'  easlyer  to  intice  him  to  her  will : 

And  being  not  able  to  maintaine  the  feeld, 
Thus  she  begins  (or  rather  seemes)  to  yeeld. 


Woon  with  thy  words,  and  rauisht  with  thy  beauty, 

Loe  here  Cassandra  yeelds  her  selfe  to  thee, 

Requiring  nothing  for  thy  vowed  duety. 

But  onely  firmnesse,  Loue  and  secrecy : 
Which  for  that  now  (euen  now)  I  mean  to  try  thee, 
A  boone  I  craue  :  which  thou  canst  not  deny  me. 


Scarce  were  these  honywords  breath'd  from  her  lips, 
But  he,  supposing  that  she  ment  good-faith. 
Her  filed  tongues  temptations  interceps ; 
And  (like  a  Nouico)  thus  to  her  he  saith : 
Ask  what  thou  wilt,  and  I  will  giue  it  thee : 
Health,  wealth,  long  life,  wit,  art,  or  dignitie. 


110  Cassandra. 


Herewith  she  blushing  red  (for  shame  did  adde 
A  crimson  tincture  to  her  palish  hew), 
Seeming  in  outward  semblance  passing  glad, 
(As  one  that  th'  end  of  her  petition  knew) 
She  makes  him  sweare  by  vgly  Acheron 
That  he  his  promise  should  performe  anew. 


Which  done ;  relying  on  his  sacred  oath, 

She  askes  of  him  the  gift  of  prophecie : 

He  (silent)  giues  consent;  though  seeming  loath 

To  graunt  so  much  to  fraile  mortalitie : 

But  since  that  he  his  vowes  maie  not  recall, 
He  gives  to  her  the  s'prite  propheticall. 


But  she  no  sooner  had  obtain'd  her  wish. 
When  straite  vnpris'ning  her  lasciuiuous  armes 
Prom  his  softe  bosom  (th'  aluary  of  blisse) 
She  chastely  counter  checks  loues  bote  alarmes  : 
And  feareing  lest  his  presence  might  offend  her, 
She  slips  aside ;  and  (absent)  doth  defend  her. 

{Muliere  ne  credas,  ne  mortucB  quidem.) 


Cassandra.  Ill 


Looke  how  a  brightsome  Planet  in  the  skie 
(Spangling  the  Welkin  with  a  golden  spot) 
Shootes  svddenly  from  the  beholders  eie, 
And  leaues  him  looking  there  where  she  is  not : 
Euen  so  amazed  Fhcebus  (to  discrie  her) 
Lookes  all  about,  but  no  where  can  espie  her. 


Not  th'  hungry  Lyon,  hauing  lost  his  pray, 
With  greater  furie  runneth  through  the  wood, 
(Making  no  signe  of  momentarie  stale, 
Till  he  haue  satisfied  himselfe  with  blood) 
Then  angry  Phcehus  mounts  into  the  skie : 
Threatning  the  world  with  his  hot-burning  eie. 


Now  nimbly  to  his  glist'ning  Coach  he  skips. 
And  churlishlie  ascends  his  loftie  chaire, 
Yerking  his  headstrong  lades  with  yron  whips, 
Whose  fearefull  neighing  ecchoes  through  the  aire. 
Snorting  out  fierce  Sulphure  from  theire  nosethrils 
Whose  deadly  damp  the  worlds  poore  people  kils. 


112  Cassandra. 


Then  leaue  we  (for  a  while)  amids  the  heauens, 
Wreaking  his  anger  on  his  sturdie  Steedes : 
Whose  speedful  course  the  day  and  night  now  eeuens, 
(The  earth  disrobed  of  her  summer  weedes) 
And  now  black-mantled  night  with  her  browne  vaile, 
Couers  each  thing  that  all  the  world  might  quaile. 


When  loe,  Cassandra  lying  at  her  rest, 
(Her  rest  were  restlesse  thoughts  : )  it  so  befell, 
Her  minde  with  multitude  of  cares  opprest, 
Requir'd  some  sleepe  her  passions  to  expell : 
Which  when  sad  Morpheus  well  did  vnderstand 
He  clos'd  her  eie-lids  with  his  leaden  hand. 


Now  sleepeth  shee  :  and  as  shee  sleepes,  beholde  ; 
Shee  seemes  to  see  the  God  whom  late  shee  wronged 
Standing  before  her ;  whose  fierce  lookes  vnfold, 
His  hidden  wrath  (to  whom  iust  ire  belonged) 
Seeing,  shee  sighs,  and  sighing  quak't  for  feare. 
To  see  the  shaddow  of  her  shame  appeare. 


Cassandra.  113 


Betwixt  amaze  and  dread  as  shee  thus  stands 
The  fearefull  vision  drew  more  neere  vnto  her, 
And  pynioning  her  armes  in  captiue  bands 
So  sure,  that  mortall  wight  may  not  vndoe  her, 
He  with  a  bloudy  knife  (oh  cruell  part) 
With  raging  fury  stab'd  her  to  the  heart. 


Heerewith  awaking  from  her  slumbring  sleepe, 
(For  feare  and  care  are  enemies  to  rest :) 
At  such  time  as  Aurora  gins  to  peepe 
And  shew  herself e ;  far  orient  in  the  East ; 

Shee  heard  a  voice  which  said  :  O  wicked  woman, 
"Why  dost  thou  stil  the  Gods  to  vengeance  summo. 


Thou  shalt  (indeede)  fore-tell  of  things  to  come ; 

And  truly  too  ;  (for  why  my  vowes  are  past) 

But  heare  the  end  of  loues  eternall  doome : 

Because  thy  promise  did  so  little  last, 

Although  thou  tell  the  truth  (this  gift  I  giue  thee) 
Yet  for  thy  falsehood,  no  man  shall  beleeue  thee. 


Q 


114  Cassandra. 


And  (for  thy  sake)  this  pennance  I  impose 

Vpon  the  remnant  of  all  woman  kinde, 

Por  that  they  be  such  truth  professed  foes  ; 

A  constant  woman  shall  be  hard  to  finde : 

And  that  all  flesh  at  my  dread  name  may  tremble, 
When  they  weep  most,  the  shall  they  most  dissemble. 


This  said  Apollo  then ;  And  since  that  time 
His  words  haue  proned  true  as  Oracles : 
Whose  turning  thoughts  ambitiously  doe  clime 
To  heauens  height ;  and  world  with  lightnes  fils 
Whose  sex  are  svbject  to  inconstancie, 
As  other  creatures  are  to  destinie. 


Yet  famous  Sahrine  on  thy  banks  doth  rest 
The  fairest  Maide  that  euer  world  admired ; 
Whose  constant  minde,  with  heauenly  gifts  possest 
Makes  her  rare  selfe  of  all  the  world  desired ; 

In  whose  chaste  thoughts  no  vanitie  doth  enter ; 

So  pure  a  minde  Endymions  Loue  hath  lent  her. 


Cassandra.  115 


Queene  of  my  thoughts,  but  subject  of  my  verse, 
(Diuine  Eliza)  pardon  my  defect : 
Whose  artlesse  pen  so  rvdely  doth  reherse 
Thy  beauties  worth  (for  want  of  due  respect) ; 

Oh  pardon  thou  the  follies  of  my  youth ; 

Pardon  my  faith,  my  loue,  my  zeale,  my  truth. 


But  to  Cassandra  now  :  who  hauing  heard 
The  cruell  sentence  of  the  threatning  voice ; 
At  length  (too  late)  begins  to  waxe  affeard, 
Lamenting  much  her  unrepentant  choice : 
And  seeing  her  hard  hap  without  reliefe, 
She  sheeds  salt  teares  in  token  of  her  griefe. 


Which  when  Aurora  saw,  and  saw  'twas  shee, 
Euen  shee  herselfe,  whose  far-renowmed  fame, 
Made  all  the  world  to  wonder  at  her  beauty. 
It  mou'd  compassion  in  this  ruthfuU  Dame : 
And  thinking  on  her  sonnes  sad  destinie. 
With  mournfuU  teares  she  bcares  her  companie. 


Q2 


X16  Cassandra. 


Great  was  the  mone  which  faire  Cassandra  made  : 
Greater  the  kindnesse  which  Aurora  shew'd  : 
Whose  sorrow  with  the  sunne  began  to  fade : 
And  her  moist  teares  on  th'  earths  green  grasse  bestow'd 
Kissing  the  flowers  with  her  siluer  dew, 
Whose  fading  beautie,  seem'd  her  case  to  rew. 


Scarce  was  the  lonely  Easterne  Queene  departed, 
Erom  stately  Ilion  (whose  proud-reared  wals 
Seem'd  to  controule  the  cloudes,  till  Vulcan  darted 
Against  their  Towers  his  burning  fier-bals) 
When  sweet  Cassandra  (leaning  her  soft  bed) 
In  seemely  sort  her  selfe  apparelled. 


And  hearing  that  her  honourable  Sire 
(Old  princely  Pryamus  Troy^s  aged  King) 
Was  gone  into  loues  Temple,  to  conspire 
Against  the  Oreekes,  (whom  he  to  war  did  bring) 
Shee.,  (like  a  Eurie),  in  a  bedlam  rage. 
Runs  gadding  thither,  his  fell  wrath  t'  asswage. 


Cassandra.  117 


But  not  preuailing  :  truely  she  fore-tolde 
The  fall  of  Trop  (with  bold  erected  face) : 
They  count  her  hare-brain'd,  mad,  and  ouer-bcld, 
To  presse  in  presence  in  so  graue  a  place : 
But  in  meane  season  Paris  he  is  gone, 
To  bring  destruction  on  faire  llion. 


What,  ten-yeeres  siedge  by  force  could  not  subuert, 
That,  two  false  traitors  in  one  night  destroi'd : 
Who  richly  guerdon'd  for  their  bad  desert, 
Was  of  JEmeas  but  small  time  inioi'd  : 
Who,  for  concealement  of  Achilles  loue, 
Was  banished,  from  llion  to  remoue. 


King  Pry  am  dead  and  all  the  Troians  slaine ; 
(The  sonnes,  his  friends  and  deere  confederates,) 
And  lots  now  cast  for  captiues  that  remaine, 
(Whom  Death  hath  spared  for  more  cruell  fates) 
Cassandra  then  to  Agamemnon  fell. 
With  whom  a  Lemman  she  disdain'd  to  dwell. 


118  Cassandra. 


She,  weepes ;  he,  wooes ;  he,  would,  but  she  would  not 
He,  tell's  his  birth  ;  Shee,  pleades  virginitie  : 
He  saith,  selfe-pride  doth  rarest  beauty  blot : 
(And  with  that  word  he  kist  her  louingly  :) 
Shee,  yeeldingly  resists ;  he  faines  to  die : 
Shee,  fall's  for  feare ;  he,  on  her  feareleslie. 


But  this  braue  generall  of  all  the  Greekes 
Was  quickly  foyled  at  a  womans  hands, 
Por  whoso  rashly  such  incounters  seekes. 
Of  hard  mis-hap  in  danger  euer  stands  : 

Onely  chaste  thoughts,  and  vertvous  abstinence. 
Gainst  such  sweet  poyson  is  the  sur'st  defence. 


But  who  can  shun  the  force  of  beauties  blow  ? 

Who  is  not  rauisht  with  a  louely  looke  ? 

Grac'd  with  a  wanton  eie  (the  hearts  dumb  show) 

Such  fish  are  taken  with  a  siluer  hooke  : 

And  when  true  loue  cannot  these  pearls  obtaine 
Vnguentum  Album  is  the  only  meane. 


Cassandra.  119 


Parre  be  it  from  my  thought  (diuinest  Maid) 
To  haue  relation  to  thy  heauenly  hew, 
(In  whose  sweete  voice  the  Muses  are  imbaid) 
No  pen  can  paint  thy  commendations  due : 
Saue  only  that  pen,  which  no  pen  can  be, 
An  Angels  quill,  to  make  a  pen  for  thee. 


But  to  returne  to  these  vnhappie  Louers, 
(Sleeping  securely  in  each  others  armes) 
Whose  sugred  ioies  nights  sable  mantle  couers. 
Little  regarding  their  ensuing  harmes ; 

Which  afterward  they  iointlie  both  repented  : 
"  Fate  is  fore-seene,  but  neuer  is  preuented. 


Which  saying  to  be  true,  this  lucklesse  Dame 
Approued  in  the  sequele  of  her  story  : 
Now  waxing  pale,  now  blushing  red  (for  shame), 
She  scales  her  lips  with  silence  (women's  glory) 
Till  Agamemnon  vrging  her  replies. 
Thus  of  his  death  she  truely  prophecies. 


120  Cassandra. 


The  day  shall  come  (quoth  she)  O  dismall  dale  ? 

When  thou  by  false  ^gistus  shall  he  slaine : 

Heere  could  she  tell  no  more ;  but  made  a  stay. 

(From  further  speech  as  willing  to  refraine) : 
Not  knowing  then,  nor  little  did  she  thinke, 
That  she  with  him  of  that  same  cup  must  drinke. 


But  what  ?  (fond  man)  he  laughs  her  skil  to  scorne. 

And  iesteth  at  her  diuination : 

Ah  to  what  vnbeliefe  are  Princes  borne  ? 

(The  onely  ouer-throw  of  many  a  Nation) : 
And  so  it  did  befall  this  lucklesse  Prince, 
"Whom  all  the  world  hath  much  lamented  since. 


Insteede  of  teares,  he  smileth  at  her  tale  : 
Insteede  of  griefe,  he  makes  great  show  of  gladnes  : 
But  after  blisse,  there  euer  followes  bale ; 
And  after  mirth,  there  alwaies  commeth  sadnes  : 
But  gladnesse,  blisse,  and  mirth  had  so  possest  him, 
That  sadnes,  bale,  &  griefe  could  not  molest  him. 


Cassandra.  121 


Oh  cruell  Parcce  (quoth  Cassandra  then) 
Why  are  you  Parcse,  yet  not  mou'd  with  praier  ? 
Oh  small  security  of  mortall  men, 
That  line  on  earth,  and  hreath  this  vitall  aire : 
When  we  laugh  most,  then  are  we  next  to  sorrow 
The  Birds  feede  vs  to  day,  we  them  to  morrow. 


But  if  the  first  did  little  moue  his  minde, 
Her  later  speeches  lesse  with  him  preuailed ; 
Who  beinge  wholy  to  selfe-will  inclinde, 
Deemes  her  weake  braine  with  lunacy  assailed  : 
And  still  the  more  shee  counsels  him  to  stay. 
The  more  he  striueth  to  make  haste  away. 


How  on  the  Seas  he  scap'd  stormes,  rocks  &  sholes, 
(Seas  that  enuide  the  conquest  he  had  wone, 
Gaping  like  hell  to  swallow  Greekish  soules,) 
I  heere  omit ;  onely  suppose  it  done  : 
His  storm-tyrde  Barke  safely  brings  him  to  shore, 
His  whole  Fleete  els,  is  suncke  or  lost  before. 


122  Cassandra. 


Lift  vp  thy  head,  thou  ashie-cyndred  Troyt 
See  the  commander  of  thy  traitor  foes, 
That  made  thy  last  nights  woe,  his  first  daies  ioie, 
Now  gins  his  night  of  ioy  and  daie  of  woes : 
His  fall  he  thy  delight,  thine  was  his  pride : 
As  he  thee  then,  so  now  thou  him  deride. 


He  and  Cassandra  now  are  set  on  shore, 
Which  he  salutes  with  ioy,  she  greetes  with  teares, 
Currors  are  sent  that  poast  to  Court  before, 
Whose  tidings  fill  th'  adultrous  Queene  with  feares, 
Who  with  ^gistus  in  a  lust  staind  bed, 
Herselfe,  her  King,  her  State  dishonored. 


She  wakes  the  lecher  with  a  loud-strain'd  shrike, 
Loue-toies  they  leaue,  now  doth  lament  begin : 
He  flie  (quoth  he)  but  she  doth  that  mislike,    . 
Gvilt  vnto  gvilt,  and  sinne  she  ads  to  sinne ; 
She  meanes  to  kill  (immodest  loue  to  couer) 
A  kingly  husband,  for  a  caytiue  louer. 


Cassandra.  123 


The  peoples  ioies  conceiued  at  his  returne, 
Their  thronging  multitudes  :  their  gladsome  cries, 
Their  gleefull  hymnes,  whiles  piles  of  incense  burne : 
Their  publique  shewes,  kept  at  solemnities : 

We  passe :  and  tell  how  King  and  Queene  did  meet, 
Where  he  with  zeale,  she  him  with  guile  did  greet. 


He  (noble  Lord)  fearelesse  of  hidden  treason, 
Sweetely  salutes  this  weeping  Crocodile  : 
Excusing  euery  cause  with  instant  reason 
That  kept  him  from  her  sight  so  long  a  while : 
She  faintly  pardons  him  ;  smiling  by  Art, 
(For  life  was  in  her  lookes,  death  in  her  hart). 


For  pledge  that  I  am  pleas'd  receiue  (quoth  shee) 
This  rich  wrought  robe,  thy  Clytemnestras  toile : 
Her  ten  yeeres  worke  this  day  shal  honour  thee, 
For  ten  yeeres  war,  and  one  dales  glorious  spoile. 
Whilst  thou  contendedst  there,  I  heere  did  this 
Weare  it  my  loue,  my  life,  my  ioy,  my  blisse. 


R  2 


124  Cassandra. 


Scarce  had  the  Syren  said,  what  I  haue  writ, 
But  he  (kind  Prince)  by  her  milde  words  misled, 
Receiu'd  the  robe,  to  trie  if  it  were  fit ; 
(The  robe)  that  had  no  issue  for  his  head  : 
Which,  whilst  he  vainly  hoped  to  haue  found, 
^gistus  pierst  him  with  a  mortal  wound. 


Oh  how  the  Troyan  Damzell  was  amazed 
To  see  so  fell  and  bloudy  a  Tragedie, 
Performed  in  one  Act ;  she  naught  but  gazed, 
Vpon  the  picture  ;  whom  shee  dead  did  see ; 
Before  her  face  :  whose  body  she  emballms, 
With  brennish  teares,  and  sudden  deadly  qualms. 


Paine  would  she  haue  fled  backe  on  her  swift  horse 
But  Clytemnestra  bad  her  be  content, 
Her  time  was  com'n  :  now  bootlesse  vsd  she  force. 
Against  so  many ;  whom  this  Tygresse  sent 
To  apprehend  her  :  who  (within  one  hower 
Brought  backe  againe)  was  lockt  within  a  Tower. 


Cassandra.  125 


Now  is  she  ioylesse,  friendlesse,  and  (in  fine) 
Without  all  hope  of  further  libertie  : 
Insteed  of  cates,  cold  water  was  her  wine, 
And  Agamemnom  cups  her  meate  must  be, 
Or  els  she  must  for  hunger  starue  (poore  sole) 
What  could  she  do  but  make  great  mone  &  dole. 


So  darke  the  dungeon  was,  wherein  she  was, 
That  neither  Sunne  (by  day)  nor  Mone  (by  night) 
Did  shew  themselues  ;  and  thus  it  came  to  passe. 
The  Sunne  denide  to  lend  his  glorious  light 

To  such  a  periur'd  wight,  or  to  be  scene  ; 

(What  neede  shee  light,  that  ouer-light  had  bin  ?) 


Now  silent  night  drew  on ;  when  all  things  sleepe, 
Saue  theeues,  and  cares  ;  and  now  stil  mid-night  came 
When  sad  Cassandra  did  nought  els  but  weepe  ; 
Oft  calling  on  her  Agamemnons  name. 
But  seeing  that  the  dead  did  not  replie, 
Thus  she  begins  to  moume,  lament  and  one. 


126  Cassandra. 


Oh  cruell  Eortune  (mother  of  despaire,) 
Well  art  thou  christen 'd  with  a  cruell  name  : 
Since  thou  regardest  not  the  wise,  or  faire, 
But  do'st  bestow  thy  riches  (to  thy  shame) 

On  fooles  &  lowly  swaines,  that  care  not  for  thee 
And  yet  I  weepe,  and  yet  thou  dost  abhorre  me. 


Pie  on  ambition,  fie  on  filthy  pride, 
The  roote  of  ill,  the  cause  of  all  my  woe  : 
On  whose  fraile  yce  my  youth  first  slipt  aside, 
And  falling  downe  receiu'd  a  fatall  blow. 
Ah  who  hath  liu'd  to  see  such  miserie 
As  I  haue  done,  and  yet  I  cannot  die  ? 


I  liu'd  (quoth  she)  to  see  Troy  set  a  fire  : 
I  liu'd  to  see  renowned  Sector  slaine  : 
I  liu'd  to  see  the  shame  of  mv  desire  : 
And  yet  I  liue  to  feele  my  grieuovs  paine ; 
Let  all  young  maides  example  take  by  me. 
To  keepe  their  oathes,  and  spotlesse  chastity 


Cassandra.  127 


Happy  are  they,  that  neuer  Ku'd  to  know 

What  'tis  to  liue  iu  this  world  happily  : 

Happy  are  they  which  neuer  yet  felt  woe  : 

Happy  are  they,  that  die  in  infancie  : 

Whose  sins  are  cancell'd  in  their  mothers  wombe : 
Whose  cradle  is  their  graue,  whose  lap  their  tomb. 


Heere  ended  shee ;  &  then  her  teares  began, 
That  (Chorus-like)  at  euery  word  downe  rain'd. 
Which  like  a  paire  of  christall  fountaines  ran, 
Along  her  louely  cheekes  :  with  roses  stained : 
Which  as  they  wither  still  (for  want  of  raine) 
Those  siluer  showers  water  them  againe. 


Now  had  the  poore-mans  clock  (shrill  chauntycleare) 
Twice  giuen  notice  of  the  Mornes  approach, 
(That  then  began  in  glorie  to  appeare, 
Drawne  in  her  stately  colour'd  saffron- coach) 
When  shee  (poore  Lady)  almost  turn'd  to  teares, 
Began  to  teare  and  rend  her  golden  haires. 


128  Cassandra. 


Lie  there  (quoth  she)  the  workers  of  my  woes  ; 
You  trifling  toies,  which  my  liues  staine  haue  hin 
You  by  whose  meanes  our  coines  chiefly  growes, 
Clothing  the  backe  with  pride,  the  soule  with  sin  : 

Lie  there  (quoth  shee)  the  causers  of  my  care ; 

This  said,  her  robes,  she  all  in  peices  tare. 


Herewith,  as  weary  of  her  wretched  life, 
(Which  shee  inioy'd  with  small  fselicitie) 
She  ends  her  fortune  with  a  fatall  knife ; 
(Eirst  day  of  ioy,  last  day  of  miserie  :) 
Then  why  is  death  accounted  Nature's  foe. 
Since  death  (indeed)  is  but  the  end  of  woe  ? 


Eor  as  by  death  her  bodie  was  released 
Prom  that  strong  prison  made  of  lime  &  stone ; 
Euen  so  by  death  her  purest  soule  was  eased, 
Prom  bodies  prison,  and  from  endlesse  mone  : 
Where  now  shee  walkes  in  sweete  Elysium 
(The  place  for  wrongfuU  Death  and  Martirdum.) 

FINIS. 


IV.   (a)  the  encomion  of  lady  pecunia. 

(b)  the  complaint  of  poetrie  for  the  death  of 

liberalitie. 

(c)  the  combat  betweene  conscience  and  COUETOUS- 

NESSE  IN  THE  MINDE  OF  MAN. 

(d)  POEMS  IN  DIVERS  HUMORS. 

1598-1605. 


Note. — Besides  the  fac-similes  of  the  original  title-pages  of  the  Encomion  of  Lady 
Pecunia,  &c.  (1598)  there  precede  it  (in  print)  the  title-page  of  the  new  edition  of 
1605.  Mr.  Collier  has  reprinted  both— the  latter  a  superfluity,  as  the  additions  are  of 
no  extent.  In  the  places  these  additions  are  added,  and  also  the  few  varice  lectiones. 
Mr.  Collier  imagined  that  the  Bridgewater  copy  of  the  1605  edition  was  unique,  but 
there  is  a  second  in  the  Bodleian.  See  our  Introduction  on  Mr.  Collier's  mistaken 
withdrawal  of  Barnefield's  charming  Ode  from  him  to  Shakespeare;  also  the  Isham 
MS.,  at  close  of  this  volume,  for  the  sonnet-dedicatory  with  a  gift-copy  of  "  Lady 
Pecunia,"  which  is  foimd  (without  the  name  of  Spencer)  in  1605  edition. — G. 


-*. 


4k 


yMi 


The  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia 


OR 


The  praife  of  Money, 

qtUrendapeCHHtap-imftm  efi, 
VtrtuipofinHmntcs.      Horace. 

By  Richard Bdmfeild,  GratJuale  in  Oxford, 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  G.S.  for  lohn  laggard,  and  arc  to 

be  foldc  at  his  shoppc  ncere  Tcmple-barre,  at  the 

Signc  of  the  Hand  and  ftarrc. 

1598. 


<'r~. 


LADY    PECUNIA, 


OB 


THE    PRAISE    OF    MONEY, 


A  COMBAT  BETWIXT  CONSCIENCE 
AND  COUETOUSNESSE. 

TOOETHBB  WITH, 

^f^t  Complaint  of  ^JofttB  for  tfte  JBeati) 
of  Hiteralits. 

NEWLY  CORRECTED  AND  ENLARGED  BY  RICHARD  BARNFIELD, 
GRADUATE  IN  OXFORD. 


Printed  by  W.  I.,  and  are  to  bee  sold  by  John 

Hodgets,  dwelling  in  Paules  Churchyard,  a 

little  beneath  Paules  Schoole.     1605. 


s  2 


THE  AUTHOR'S  VEESE-EPISTLE-DEDICATORY  (1605). 


Led  by  the  swift  report  of  winged  Eame, 

With  silver  trumpet  sounding  forth  your  name, 
To  you  I  dedicate  this  merry  Muse, 

And  for  my  patron  I  your  fauour  chuse  : 

She  is  a  lady,  she  must  be  respected ; 

She  is  a  queene,  she  may  not  be  neglected. 
This  is  the  shadow,  you  the  substance  have. 
Which  substance  now  this  shadow  seems  to  crave. 

RICHARD  BARNFIELD. 


THE  ENCOMION  OF  LADY  PECUNIA 


OB 


THE  PRAISE  OF  MONEY. 


qucerenda  pecunta  primum  est, 


Virtus  post  nummos. — Horace. 


BY  RICHARD  BARNFEILD,  GRADUATE  IN  OXFORD. 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  G.  S.  for  lohn  laggard,  and  are  to 

be  solde  at  his  shoppe  neere  Temple-barre,  at  the 

Signe  of  the  Hand  and  starre. 

1598. 


TO  THE  GENTLEMEN  READERS. 


lENTLEMEN,  being  incouraged  through  your  gentle 
acceptance  of  my  Cynthia,  I  haue  once  more  aduen- 
tured  on  your  Curtesies :  hoping  to  finde  you  (as  I 
haue  done  heretofore)  friendly.  Being  determined  to 
write  of  somthing,  &  yet  not  resolued  of  any  thing,  I 
considered  with  my  selfe,  if  one  should  write  of  Loue  (they  will 
say)  why,  euery  one  writes  of  Loue :  if  of  Vertue,  why,  who  re- 
gards Vertue  ?  To  be  short,  I  could  thinke  of  nothing,  but  either 
it  was  common,  or  not  at  all  in  request.  At  length  I  bethought 
my  selfe  of  a  Subiect,  both  new  (as  hauing  neuer  beene  written  vp- 
on  before)  and  pleasing  (as  I  thought)  because  Mans  Nature  (com- 
monly) loues  to  heare  that  praised,  with  whose  pressence  hee  is 
most  pleased. 

Erci87nus  (the  glory  of  Netherlands  and  the  refiner  of  the  Latin 
Tongue)  wrote  a  whole  Booke,  in  the  prayse  of  Folly.  Then  if  so 
excellent  a  Scholler,  writ  in  praise  of  Vanity,  why  may  not  I  write 
in  praise  of  that  which  is  profitable  ?  There  are  no  two  Countreys, 
where  Gold  is  esteemed  lesse  than  in  India,  and  more  then  in  Eng- 
land :  the  reason  is,  because  the  Indians  are  barbarous,  and  our  Na- 
tion ciuill. 

I  haue  giuen  Pecnnia  the  title  of  a  Woman,  Both  for  the  termi- 
nation of  the  Word,  and  because  (as  Women  are)  shee  is  lov'd  of 
men.  The  brauest  Voyages  in  the  World  haue  beene  made  for 
Gold  :  for  it,  men  haue  venterd  (by  Sea)  to  the  furthest  parts  of  the 

Earth 


136  To  the  Gentlemen  Readers. 

Earth  :  In  the  Pursute  whereof,  Englands  Nestor  and  Neptune  {Hat 
kins  and  Drake')  lost  their  Hues.     Vpon  the  Deathes  of  the  whicl 
two,  of  the  first  I  writ  this  : 

The  Waters  were  his  Winding  sheete^  the  Sea  was  made  his  Toome; 
Yet  for  his  fame  the  Ocean  Sea,  was  not  sufficient  roome. 

Of  the  latter  this  : 

England  his  hart ;  his  Corps  the  Waters  haue : 
And  that  which  raysd  his  fame,  became  his  grave. 

The  JPrcetorians  (after  the  death  of  Pertinax)  in  the  election  of  a 
new  Emperour,  more  esteemed  the  money  of  lulianus,  then  either 
the  vertue  of  Seuerus,  or  the  Valour  of  Pessenius.  Then  of  what 
great  estimation  and  account,  this  Lady  Pecunia,  both  hath  beene 
in  the  Worlde,  and  is  at  this  present,  I  leaue  to  your  Judgement. 
But  what  speak e  I  so  much  of  her  praise  in  my  Epistle,  that  haue 
commended  her  so  at  large,  in  my  Booke  ?  To  the  reading  wherof, 
(Gentlemen)  I  referre  you. 


THE  PRAYSE  OE  LADY  PECUNIA. 


lyy  HE  ^a 

ill 


SING  not  of  Angellica  the  faire, 
(For  whom  the  Palladine  of  Fraunce  fell  mad) 
Nor  of  sweet  Roscmiond,  olde  Cliffords  heu'e, 
(Whose  death  did  make  the  second  Renry  sad) 

But  of  the  fairest  Faire  Pecuniae 

The  famous  Queene  of  rich  America. 


Goddesse  of  Golde,  great  Empresse  of  the  Earth, 
O  thou  that  canst  doe  all  Thinges  vnder  Heauen 
That  doost  conuert  the  saddest  minde  to  Mirth  ; 
(Of  whom  the  elder  Age  was  quite  bereauven) 

Of  thee  He  sing,  and  in  thy  Prayse  He  write ; 

You  golden  Angela  helpe  me  to  indite. 


You 


138  The  prayse  of 


.id 


You,  you  alone,  can  make  my  Muse  to  speake ; 

And  tell  a  golden  Tale,  with  siluer  Tongue : 

You  onely  can  my  pleasing  silence  breake ; 

And  adde  some  Musique,  to  a  merry  Songue  : 
But  amongst  all  the  fine,  in  Musicks  Art, 
I  would  not  sing  the  Cotmter-tQnov  part.^ 


The  Meane  is  best,  and  that  I  meane  to  keepe ; 
So  shall  I  keepe  my  selfe  from  That  I  meane  : 
Lest  with  some  Others,  I  be  forc'd  to  weepe. 
And  cry  Peccaui,  in  a  dolefuU  Scsene. 
But  to  the  matter  which  I  haue  in  hand. 
The  Lady  Eegent,  both  by  Sea  and  Land. 


When  Saturne  liu'd,  and  wore  the  Kingly  Crowne, 
(And  loue  was  yet  vnborne,  but  not  vnbred) 
This  Ladies  fame  was  then  of  no  renowne ; 
(For  Golde  was  then,  no  more  esteem'd  then  Lead) 
Then  Truth  and  Honesty  were  onely  vs'd, 
Siluer  and  Golde  were  vtterly  refused. 


But 

'  I  worst  can  brooke  the  Counter-tenor  part  (1605). 


Lady  Pecunia.  139 


But  when  the  Worlde  grew  wiser  in  Conceit, 
And  saw  how  Men  in  manners  did  decline. 
How  Charitie  began  to  loose  her  heate. 
And  One  did  at  anothers  good  repine, 

Then  did  the  Aged,  first  of  all  respect  her ; 

And  vowd  from  thenceforth,  neuer  to  reiect  her. 


Thus  with  the  "Worlde,  her  beauty  did  increase  ; 

And  manie  Suters  had  she  to  obtaine  her  : 

Some  sought  her  in  the  Wars ;  and  some  in  peace  ;  ^ 

But  few  of  youthful!  age,  could  euer  gaine  her : 

Or  if  they  did,  she  soone  was  gone  againe  ; 

And  would  with  them,  but  little  while  remaine.  • 


For  why  against  the  Nature  of  her  Sexe, 
(That  commonlie  dispise  the  feeble  Olde) 
Shee,  loues  olde  men ;  but  young  men  she  reiects  ; 
Because  to  her,  their  Loue  is  quicklie  colde  : 
Olde  men  (like  Husbands  icalous  of  their  Wiues) 
Lock  her  vp  fast,  and  keepe  her  as  their  Lines. 


The 
t2  • 


140  The  prayse  of 


The  young  man  carelesse  to  maintaine  his  life, 
Neglects  her  Loue  (as  though  he  did  abhor  her) 
like  one  that  hardly  doeth  obtaine  a  wife, 
And  when  he  hath  her  once,  he  cares  not  for  her : 
Shee,  seeing  that  the  young  man  doeth  despyse  her, 
Leaues  the  franke  heart  and  flies  vnto  the  Myser. 


Hee  intertaines  her,  with  a  ioyfuU  hart ; 

And  seemes  to  rue  her  vndeserued  wrong : 

And  from  his  Pressence,  she  shall  neuer  part ; 

Or  if  she  doo,  he  thinks  her  Absence  long  : 
And  oftentimes  he  sends  for  her  againe, 
Whose  life  without  her,  cannot  long  remaine. 


And  when  he  hath  her,  in  his  owne  possession, 

He  locks  her  in  an  iron-barred  Chest, 

And  doubting  somewhat,  of  the  like  Transgression, 

He  holds  that  iron-walled  Prison  best. 

And  least  some  rusty  sicknesse  should  infect  her, 
He  often  visits  her,  and  doeth  respect  her. 


As 


Lady  Pecunia.  141 


As  for  the  young  man  (subiect  vnto  sinne) 
No  maruell  though  the  Diuell  doe  distresse  him ; 
To  tempt  mans  frailtie,  which  doth  neuer  linne 
Who  many  times,  hath  not  a  Crosse  to  blesse  him  : 

But  how  can  hee  incurre  the  Heauens  Curse. 

That  hath  so  many  Crosses  in  his  Purse  ? 


Hee  needes  ^  not  feare  those  wicked  sprights,  that  waulke 

Vnder  the  Couerture  of  cole-blacke  Night ; 

For  why  the  Diuell  still,  a  Crosse  doeth  baulke, 

Because  on  it,  was  hangd  the  Lorde  of  Light : 
But  let  not  Mysers  trust  to  siluer  Crosses, 
Least  in  the  End,  their  gaines  be  turnd  to  losses. 


But  what  care  they,  so  they  may  hoorde  vp  golde  ? 

Either  for  God,  or  Diuell,  or  Heauen,  or  Hell  ? 

So  they  may  faire  Fecumaes  face  behold  ; 

And  euery  Day,  their  Mounts  of  Money  tell. 
What  tho  to  count  their  Coyne,  they  neuer  blin, 
Count  they  their  Coyne,  and  counts  not  God  their  sin  ? 


'  needs,  160S. 


142  The  pray se  of 


But  what  talke  I  of  sinne,  to  Vsurers  ? 

Or  looke  for  mendment,  at  a  Mysers  hand  ? 

Fecunia,  hath  so  many  followers, 

Bootlesse  it  is,  her  Power  to  with-stand. 
King  Couetise,  and  Warinesse  his  Wife, 
The  Parents  were,  that  first  did  giue  her  Life. 


But  now  vnto  her  Praise  I  will  proceede. 
Which  is  as  ample,  as  the  Worlde  is  wide  : 
What  great  Contentment  doth  her  Pressence  hreede 
In  him,  that  can  his  wealth  with  Wysdome  guide  ? 
She  is  the  Soueraigne  Queene,  of  all  Delights  : 
Por  her  the  Lawyer  pleades  :  the  Souldier  fights. 


Por  her,  the  Merchant  venters  on  the  Seas  : 

Por  her,  the  Scholler  studdies  at  his  Booke : 

Por  her,  the  Vsurer  (with  greater  ease) 

Por  sillie  fishes,  layes  a  siluer  hooke : 

Por  her,  the  Townsman  leaues  the  Countrey  Village 
Por  her,  the  Plowman  giues  himselfe  to  Tillage. 


Por 


Lady  Pecunia.  143 


For  her,  the  Gentleman  doeth  raise  his  rents : 
For  her,  the  Seruingman  attends  his  maister : 
For  her,  the  curious  head  new  toyes  inuents  : 
For  her,  to  Sores,  the  Surgeon  layes  his  plaister. 
In  fine  for  her,  each  man  in  his  Vocation, 
Applies  himselfe,  in  euerie  sev'rall  Nation. 


What  can  thy  hart  desire,  but  thou  mayst  haue  it. 
If  thou  hast  readie  money  to  disburse  ? 
Then  thanke  thy  Fortune,  that  so  freely  gaue  it ; 
For  of  all  friends,  the  surest  is  thy  purse. 

Friends  may  proue  false,  and  leaue  thee  in  thy  need ; 

But  still  thy  Purse  will  bee  thy  friend  indeed. 


Admit  thou  come,  into  a  place  vnknowne ; 
And  no  man  knowes,  of  whome,  or  what  thou  art : 
If  once  thy  faire  Fecunia,  shee  bee  showne, 
Thou  art  esteem' d  a  man  of  great  Desart : 

And  placed  at  the  Tables  vpper  cnde ; 

Not  for  thine  owne  sake,  but  thy  faithfull  frende.' 


But 


'  Not  for  thine  own  soke  but  thy  trusty  friend  (1605). 


144  The  pray se  of 


But  if  you  want  your  Ladies  louely  grace, 
And  haue  not  wherewithal!  to  pay  your  shot. 
Your  Hostis  pressently  will  step  in  Place, 
You  are  a  Stranger  (Sir)  I  know  you  not : 

By  trusting  Diuers,  I  am  run  in  Det ; 

Therefore  of  mee,  nor  meate  nor  Bed  you  get. 


O  who  can  then,  expresse  the  worthie  praise. 

Which  faire  JPecunia  iustly  doeth  desarue  ? 

That  can  the  meanest  man,  to  Honor  raise ; 

And  feed  the  soule,  that  ready  is  to  starue. 
Affection,  which  was  wont  to  bee  so  pure, 
Against  a  golden  Siege,  may  not  endure.^ 


Witnesse  the  Trade  of  Mercenary  sinne, 
(Or  Occupation,  if  you  like  to  tearme  it) 
Where  faire  Fecunia  must  the  suite  beginne ; 
(As  common-tride  Experience  doeth  confirme  it) 
Not  Mercury  himselfe,  with  siluer  Tongue, 
Can  so  inchaunt,  as  can  a  golden  Songue. 


When 


'  Against  his  golden  Siege  may  not  endnre  (1605). 


Lady  Pecunia.  145 


When  nothing  could  subdue  the  Fhrygimi  Troy^ 

(That  Citty  through  the  world  so  much  renowned) 

Pecunia  did  her  vtterly  destroy : 

And  left  her  fame,  in  darke  Obliuion  drowned. 
And  many  Citties  since,  no  lesse  in  fame. 
For  Loue  of  her,  haue  yeelded  to  their  shame. 


What  Thing  is  then,  so  well  belov'd  as  money  ? 
It  is  a  speciall  Comfort  to  the  minde ; 
More  faire  then  Women  are  ;  more  sweet  then  honey 
Easie  to  loose,  hut  very  harde  to  finde. 

In  fine,  to  him,  whose  Purse  beginns  to  faint, 

Golde  is  a  God,  and  Siluer  is  a  Saint. 


The  Tyme  was  once,  when  Honestie  was  counted 
A  Demy  god  ;  and  so  esteem'd  of  all ; 
But  now  Pecunia  on  his  Seate  is  mounted  ; 
Since  Honestie  in  great  Disgrace  did  fall. 

No  state,  no  Calling  now,  doeth  him  esteeme; 

Nor  of  the  other  ill,  doeth  any  deeme. 


The 
u 


146  The  prayse  of 


The  reason  is,  because  he  is  so  poore  : 
(And  who  respects  the  poore,  and  needie  Creature  ?  ) 
Still  begging  of  his  almes,  from  Doore  to  Doore : 
All  ragd,  and  torne ;  and  eeke  deformd  in  feature. 

In  Countenance  so  changde,  that  none  can  know  him ; 

So  weake,  that  euery  vice  doeth  ouerthrow  him. 


But  faire  ^  Pecunia,  (most  diuinely  bred) 
Por  sundrie  shapes,  doth  Proteus  selfe  surpasse  : 
In  one  Lande,  she  is  suted  all  in  Lead ; 
And  in  another,  she  is  clad  in  Brasse  : 
But  still  within  the  Coast  of  Albion^ 
She  euer  puts,  her  best  Apparell  on. 


Siluer  and  Golde,  and  nothing  else  is  currant. 
In  EnglandSi  in  faire  Englands  happy  Land  : 
All  baser  sortes  of  Mettalls,  haue  no  Warrant ; 
Yet  secretly  they  slip^  from  hand  to  hand. 
If  any  such  be  tooke,  the  same  is  lost, 
And  pressently  is  nayled  on  a  Post. 


Which 

fayre,  1606. 


Lady  Pecunia.  147 


Which  with  Quick-siluer,  being  flourisht  ouer, 
Seemes  to  be  perfect  Siluer,  to  the  showe : 
As  Woemens  paintings,  their  defects  doe  couer, 
Vnder  this  false  attyre,  so  doe  they  goe. 
If  on  a  woolen  Cloth,  thou  rub  the  same. 
Then  will  it  straight  beginne  to  blush,  for  shame. 


If  chafed  on  thy  haire,  till  it  be  hot. 
If  it  good  Siluer  bee,  the  scent  is  sweete  : 
If  counterfeit,  thy  chafing  hath  begot 
A  ranke-smelt  sauour ;  for  a  Queene  vnmeete : 
Fecimia  is  a  Queene,  for  her  Desarts, 
And  in  the  Decke,  may  goe  for  Queene  of  harts. 


The  Queene  of  harts,  because  she  rules  all  harts ; 
And  hath  all  harts,  obedient  to  her  Will : 
Whose  Bounty,  fame  vnto  the  Worlde  imparts  ; 
And  with  her  glory,  all  the  Worlde  doeth  fill : 

The  Queene  of  Diamonds,  she  cannot  bee ; 

There  is  but  one,  ELIZA,  thou  art  shee.' 


And 


There  was  bnt  one;  Eliza,  tboa  wast  ahee  (1606). 

u2 


148  The  prayse  of 


And  thou  art  shee,  O  sacred  Soueraigne  ;^ 
Whom  God  hath  helpt  with  his  Al-mighty  hand  :^ 
Blessing  thy  People,  with  thy  peacefull  raigne  ; 
And  made  this  little  Land,  a  happy  Land  : 

May  all  those  Hue,  that  wish  long  life  to  thee,^ 

And  all  the  rest,  perish  eternally. 


The  tyme  was  once,  when  faire  Fecunia,  here 
Did  basely  goe  attyred  all  in  Leather : 
But  since  her  raigne,  she  neuer  did  appeere  ^ 
But  richly  clad  ;  in  Golde,  or  Siluer  either : 
Nor  reason  is  it,  that  her  Golden  raigne 
With  baser  Coyne,  eclypsed  should  remaine. 


And  as  the  Coyne  she  hath  repurifyde,^ 
From  baser  substance,  to  the  purest  Mettels  : 
Religion  so,  hath  shee  refinde  beside, 
From  Papistrie,  to  Truth ;  which  daily  settles 

Within  her  Peoples  harts ;  though  some  there  bee,^ 
That  cleaue  vnto  their  wonted  Papistrie. 


'  And  thou  wast  she,  0  sacred  soveraigne  (1605). 

*  Whom  God  did  ayde  M'ith  his  Al-mighty  hand  (1605). 
^  Thy  peace  on  earth  begun,  in  heauen  made  pure, 

There  crowned  with  lasting  joy:  O  joy  most  sure  !  (1605). 

*  But  in  Elizas  raigne,  it  did  appeare 

Most  richly  clad;  in  golde  or  silver  either  (1605). 

*  And  as  the  Coine  she  did  repurifie  (1605). 

*  Within  the  Peoples  hearts:  Though  some  there  be  (1605). 


No 


Lady  Pecunia. 


149 


No  flocke  of  sheepe,  but  some  are  still  infected  : 
No  peece  of  Lawne  so  pure,  but  hath  some  fret : 
All  buildings  are  not  strong  that  are  erected  : 
All  Plants  proue  not,  that  in  good  ground  are  set : 
Some  tares  are  sowne,  amongst  the  choicest  seed  : 
No  garden  can  be  cleansd  of  euery  Weede.* 

But  now  to  her,  whose  praise  is  here  pretended, 
(Diuine  Pecunia)  fairer  then  tlie  morne  : 
Which  cannot  be  sufficiently  commended ; 
Whose  Sun-bright  Beauty  doeth  the  Worlde  adorne, 

Adorns  the  World,  but  specially  the  Purse ; 

Without  whose  pressence,  nothing  can  be  woorse. 


Not  faire  Scesione  (King  Priams  sister) 
Did  euer  showe  more  Beauty,  in  her  face. 
Then  can  this  lonely  Lady,  if  it  list  her 
To  showe  her  selfe ;  admir'd  for  comely  grace  : 

Which  neither  Age  can  weare,  nor  Tyme  conclude ; 

Por  why,  her  Beauty  yeerely  is  renude. 


New 


In  1605  edition  these  five  new  stanzas  come  here: 


But  now  more  Angels  then  on  Earth  yet  weare 
Her  golden  Impresse;  haue  to  Ileauen  attended 
Hir  Virgiu-soule;  now,  now  she  soiourns  there, 
Tasting  more  ioycs  then  may  be  comprehended. 

Life,  she  hath  changdc  for  life  (oh  countlese 
gaine) 

An  eartblie  rule,  for  an  etemall  Raigne. 

Such  a  Successor  leaning  in  her  stead, 
So  peerelesse  worthie,  and  so  lloyall  wise; 
In  nim  her  vertnes  liue,  thongh  she  be  dead: 
Bountic  and  Zealc,  in  him  both  Soneranizc. 
To  him  aloue  [<Jc]  Pecunia  doth  obay. 
He  ruling  her,  that  doth  all  others  sway. 

Bounty,  that  when  she  sickncd,  cras'd  and  fainted. 
And  when  she  left  the  earth  had  almost  died; 
H9ping  with  her,  in  heauen  to  haue  bin  sainted, 
And  mongst  the  rest  an  Angels  place  supplycd: 


This  King  hath  cherisht,  and  his  life  assured, 
And  of  a  long  consumption,  Bonnti's  cnretl. 

Plenty  and  Peace  A-pon  his  Throne  attend, 
Health  and  Content,  vpon  his  person  wait : 
Conquest  and  Fame,  his  Royaltie  defend. 
May  all  good  Planets  Smile  upon  his  state. 
By  whom  ail-drooping  vertnes  are  reuinc<l. 
And  dying-Bounty,  made  againe  long  lined. 

The  hand  of  Heauen  still  take  him  to  his  keeping, 
Him,  in  no  danger,  in  no  doubt  forsaking; 
A  thousand  of  his  Angels  giiardo  him  Slwping, 
And  all  the  boast  of  heauen  protect  him  waking. 
That  he  in  safety,  peace  and  rest,  may  reigne. 
Whilst  the  two  Poles,  the  frame  of  heuen 
sustain.  . 


150  The  pray se  of 

New  coyne  is  coynd  each  yeare,  within  the  Tower ;' 
So  that  her  Beauty  neuer  can  decay  : 
Which  to  resist,  no  mortall  man  hath  Power, 
When  as  she  doeth  her  glorious  Beames  display. 
Nor  doeth  Fecunia,  onely  please  the  eie, 
But  charms  the  eare,  with  heauenly  Harmonic. 

Lyke  to  an  other  Orpheus,  can  she  play 

Vpon  her  treble  JSarpe,  whose  siluer  sound 

Inchaunts  the  eare,  and  steales  the  hart  away  : 

Nor  hardly  can  deceit,  therein  be  found." 

Although  such  Musique,  some  a  Shilling  cost, 
Yet  it  is  worth  but  Nine-pence ,  at  the  most.' 

Had  I  the  sweet  inchaunting  Tongue  of  Tully, 

That  charmd  the  hearers,  lyke  the  Syrens  Song ; 

Yet  could  I  not  describe  the  Prayses  fully. 

Which  to  Pecunia  iustly  doe  belong.'* 
Let  it  suffice,  her  Beauty  doeth  excell : 
Whose  praise  no  Pen  can  paint,  no  Tongue  can  tell. 

Then 


New  Coine  is  yearlie  stamped  in  the  Tower, 
But  these  faire  daies  of  joy,  addes  alteration: 
In  faire  Elizaes  raigne,  none  had  that  power; 
But  kingly  glorie,  clothes  her  new  in  fashion, 
Ads  beautie  to  her  beames,  by  adding  more 
Then  grayest  haires  in  life,  ere  saw  before. 


Stand  forth  who  can  and  tell,  and  truelie  sale. 
When  England,  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  France, 
He  euer  saw  Pecunia  to  displaie 
Before  these  daies ;  O  wondrous  happie  chance 
Nor  doth  Pecunia  onelie  please  the  eie 
But  charmes  the  eare  with  heauenlie  harmony. 
(1605). 

*  That  hardlie  the  deceit  thereof  is  found  (1605). 
^  This  new  stanza  added  here  in  1605  edition: — 

But  Ireland  alone,  this  Musicks  sound 
Being  clad  in  Siluer,  challenge,  for  their  coine, 
What  though  amongst  vs  much  thereof  be  found, 
Authoritie,  no  subject  dooth  inioyne 

Aboue  his  worth  to  countenance  the  same, 
•♦      Then  men,  not  coin,  are  worthy  of  that  blame. 
*  Which  to  Pecunia  justly  doth  belong  (1605). 


Lady  Pecunta.  151 


Then  how  shall  I  describe,  with  artlesse  Pen, 
The  praise  of  her,  whose  praise,  all  praise  surmounteth  ? 
Breeding  amazement,  in  the  mindes  of  men  : 
Of  whom,  this  pressent  Age  so  much  accounteth. 
Varietie  of  Words,  would  sooner  want. 
Then  store  of  plentious  matter,  would  be  scant.  ^ 


Whether  yee  list,  to  looke  into  the  Citty  : 
(Where  money  tempts  the  poore  Beholders  eye) 
Or  to  the  Countrey  Townes,  deuoyde  of  Pitty : 
(Where  to  the  poore,  each  place  doeth  almes  denye) 
All  Things  for  money  now,  are  bought  and  solde. 
That  either  hart  can  thinke,  or  eie  beholde. 


Nay  more  for  money  (as  report  doeth  tell) 
Thou  mayst  obteine  a  Pardon  for  thy  sinnes  : 
The  Pope  of  Homey  for  money  will  it  sell ; 
(Whereby  thy  soule,  no  small  saluation  winnes) 
But  how  can  bee,  (of  Pride  the  chiefe  Beginner) 
Forgiue  thy  sinnes,  that  is  himselfe  a  sinner  ? 


Then 


'  Then  store  of  plentious  matters  would  be  scant  (1606). 


152  The  prayse  of 


Then,  sith  the  Pope  is  subiect  vnto  sinne, 
No  maruell  tho  diuine  Pecunia  tempt  him, 
With  her  faire  Beauty  ;  whose  good-will  to  winne, 
Each  one  contends ;  and  shall  we  then  exempt  him. 
Did  neuer  mortall  man,  yet  looke  vpon  her, 
But  straightwies  he  became,  enamourd  on  her. 


Yet  would  I  wish,  the  Wight  that  loues  her  so, 
And  hath  obtain'd  the  like  good-will  againe, 
To  vse  her  wisely,  lest  shee  proue  his  foe  ; 
And  so,  in  stead  of  Pleasure,  breed  his  paine. 
She  may  be  kyst ;  but  she  must  not  be  cli/pt 
Lest  such  Delight  in  bitter  gall  be  dypt. 


The  iuyce  of  grapes,  which  is  a  soueraigne  Thin^ 
To  cheere  the  hart,  and  to  reuiue  the  spirits ; 
Being  vsde  immoderatly  (in  surfetting.) 
E-ather  Dispraise,  then  commendation  merits : 

Euen  so  Fecunia,  is,  as  shee  is  vsed ; 

Good  of  her  selfe,  but  bad  if  once  abused. 


With 


Lady  Pecunia.  153 


With  her,  the  Tenant  pays  his  Landlords  rent :  * 

On  her,  depends  the  stay  of  euery  state  : 

To  her,  rich  Pressents  euery  day  are  sent : 

In  her,  it  rests  to  end  all  dire  Debate  : 

Through  her,  to  Wealth,  is  raisd  the  Countrey  Boore  : 
From  her,  proceedes  much  proffit  to  the  poore. 


Then  how  can  I,  sufB.ciently  commend. 
Her  Beauties  worth,  which  makes  the  World  to  wonder  ? 
Or  end  her  prayse,  whose  prayses  haue  no  End  ? 
Whose  absence  brings  the  stoutest  stomack  vnder : 

Let  it  suffice,  Pecunia  hath  no  peere ; 

No  Wight,  no  Beauty  held  ;  more  faire,  more  deere. 

FINIS. 


His  Prayer  to  Pecunia. 

Great  Lady,  sith  I  haue  compylde  thy  Prayse, 
(According  to  my  skill  and  not  thy  merit :) 
And  sought  thy  Fame  aboue  the  starrs  to  rayse  ; 
(Had  I  sweete  Ovids  vaine,  or  Vvrgila  spirit) 
I  craue  no  more  but  this,  for  my  good-will, 
That  in  my  Want,  thou  wilt  supplye  me  still. 


With  her  the  Tenant  pajea  the  Ijandlords  rent  (1605). 
X 


THE 

COMPLAINT    OF    POETRIE 

FOR  THE  DEATH  OF  LIBERALITIE. 


Viuit  post  Junei'a  virtns. 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  G.  S.  for  lohn  laggard,  and  are  to 

be  solde  at  his  shoppe  neere  Temple-barre,  at  the 

Signe  of  the  Hand' and  starre. 

1598. 


x2 


Note, — In  the  '  Complaint,'  &c.  of  1605,  there  are  slight  changes  of  spelling,  as 
'  weep '  for  '  weepe,'  '  bountie  '  for  '  bounty,'  &c.  but  it  is  not  deemed  necessary  to  record 
them  either  herein  or  in  the  remaining  portions. — G. 


To  his  Worshipful!  wel-willer,  Mai- 
ster  Edward  Leigh,  of  Grayes  Inne. 

IMAGE  of  that,  whose  losse  is  here  lamented  ; 
(In  whom,  so  many  vertues  are  contained) 
Daine  to  accept,  what  I  haue  now  presented. 
Though  Bounties  death,  herein  be  only  fained, 
If  in  your  mind,  she  not  reuiue  (with  speed) 
Then  will  I  sweare,  that  shee  is  dead  indeed.' 


Omitted  in  1605  edition. 


THE  COMPLAINT  OF  POETRIE,  EOR  THE  DEATH  OF 

LIBERALITIE. 


Weepe  Heauens  now,  for  you  haue  lost  your  light ; 
Ye  Sunne  and  Moone,  beare  witnesse  of  my  mone  : 
The  cleere  is  turnd  to  clouds  ;  the  day  to  night ; 
And  all  my  hope,  and  all  my  ioy  is  gone : 

Bounty  is  dead,  the  cause  of  my  annoy  ; 

Bounty  is  dead,  and  with  her  dide  my  ioy. 


O  who  can  comfort  my  afflicted  soule  ? 
Or  adde  some  ende  to  my  increasing  sorrowes  ? 
Wlio  can  deliuer  me  from  endlesse  dole  ? 
(Which  from  my  hart  eternall  torment  borrowes.) 

When  Bounty  liu'd,  I  bore  the  Bell  away ; 

When  Bounty  dide,  my  credit  did  decay. 


160  The  Complaint  of  Poetrie 


I  neuer  then,  did  write  one  ^  verse  in  vaine ; 
Nor  euer  went  my  Poems  vnregarded  : 
Tlien  did  each  Noble  breast  me  intertaine, 
And  for  my  Labours  I  was  well  rewarded  ; 

But  now  Good  wordes,  are  stept  in  Bounties  place, 
Thinking  thereby,  her  glorie  to  disgrace. 


But  who  can  liue  with  words,  in  these  hard  tymes  ? 
(Although  they  came  from  lupiter  himselfe  ?) 
Or  who  can  take  such  Paiment,  for  his  Bymes  ? 
("When  nothing  now,  is  so  esteem'd  as  Pelfe  ?) 

Tis  not  Good  wordes,  that  can  a  man  maintaine  ; 

Wordes  are  but  winde  ;  and  winde  is  all  but  vaine. 


Where  is  Meccenas,  Learnings  noble  Patron  ? 

•(That  Maroes  Muse,  with  Bountie  so  did  cherish  ?) 

Or  faire  Zenohia,  that  worthy  Matron  ? 

(Whose  name,  for  Learnings  Loue,  shall  neuer  perish) 
What  tho  their  Bodies,  be  full  lowe  in  graue, 
Their  fame  the  worlde  ;  their  souls  the  Heauens  haue. 


Vile 


'  1605  "on." 


for  the  Death  of  Liheralitie.  161 


Vile  Auariday  how  hast  thou  inchaunted 
The  Nohle  mindes,  of  great  and  mightie  Men 
Or  what  infernall  furie  late  hath  haunted 
Their  niggard  purses  ?  (to  the  learned  pen) 
Was  it  Augustus  wealth,  or  noble  minde, 
That  euerlasting  fame,  to  him  assinde  ? 


If  wealth  ?    Why  Croesus  was  more  rich  then  hee ; 
(Yet  Croesus  glorie,  with  his  life  did  end) 
It  was  his  Noble  mind,  that  moued  mee 
To  write  his  praise,  and  alle  his  Acts  commend. 
Who  ere  had  heard,  of  Alexanders  fame, 
If  Quintus  Curtius  had  not  pend  the  same  ? 


Then  sith  by  mee,  their  deedes  haue  been  declared, 
(Which  else  had  perisht  with  their  Hues  decay) 
Who  to  augment  their  glories,  haue  not  spared 
To  crowne  their  browes,  with  neuer-fading  Bay : 
What  Art  deserues  such  Liheralitie, 
As  doeth  the  peerlesse  Art  of  Poetrie  ? 


But 


162  The  Complaint  of  Poetrie 


But  Liberalitie  is  dead  and  gone : 
And  Auarice  vsurps  true  Bounties  seat. 
Por  her  it  is,  I  make  this  endlesse  mone, 
(Whose  praises  worth  no  pen  can  well  repeat) 
Sweet  Liberalitie  adiew  for  euer, 
For  Poetrie  againe,  shall  see  thee  neuer. 


Neuer  againe,  shall  I  thy  presence  see  : 
Neuer  againe,  shal  I  thy  bountie  tast : 
Neuer  againe,  shall  I  accepted  bee  : 
Neuer  againe,  shall  I  be  so  embrac't : 
Neuer  againe,  shall  I  the  bad  recall : 
Neuer  againe,  shall  I  be  lou'd  of  all. 


Thou  wast  the  Nurse,  whose  Bountie  gaue  me  sucke  : 
Thou  wast  the  Sunne,  whose  beames  did  lend  me  light 
Thou  wast  the  Tree,  whose  fruit  I  still  did  plucke : 
Thou  wast  the  Patron,  to  maintaine  my  right : 

Through  thee  I  liu'd ;  on  thee  I  did  relie ; 

In  thee  I  ioy'd ;  and  now  for  thee  I  die. 


What 


for  the  Death  of  Ldberalitie.  163 


What  man,  hath  lately  lost  a  faithfull  frend  ? 
Or  Husband,  is  depriued  of  his  Wife  ? 
But  doth  his  after-daies  in  dolour  spend  ? 
(Leading  a  loathsome,  discontented  life  ? ) 

Dearer  then  friend,  or  wife,  haue  I  forgone ; 

Then  maruell  not,  although  I  make  such  mone. 


Faire  Fhilomela,  cease  thy  sad  complaint ; 
And  lend  thine  eares,  vnto  my  dolefull  Ditty : 
(Whose  soule  with  sorrowe,  now  begins  to  faint, 
And  yet  I  cannot  moue  mens  hearts  to  pitty  : ) 
Thy  woes  are  light,  compared  vnto  mine  : 
You  waterie  Nymphes,  to  mee  your  plaints  resigne. 


And  thou  Melpomene^  (the  Muse  of  Death) 
That  neuer  sing'st,  but  in  a  dolefull  straine ; 
Sith  cruell  Destinie  hath  stopt  her  breath, 
(Who  whilst  she  liu'd  was  Vertues  Soueraigne) 
Leaue  Sellicon,  (whose  bankes  so  pleasant  bee) 
And  beare  a  part  of  sorrowe  now  with  me. 


The 
y2 


164  The  Complaint  of  Poetrie 


The  Trees  (for  sorrowe)  shead  their  fading  Leaues, 
And  weepe  out  gum,  in  stead  of  other  Teares  ; 
Comfort  nor  ioy,  no  Creature  now  conceiues, 
To  chirpe  and  sing,  each  little  bird  forbeares. 

The  sillie  Sheepe,  hangs  downe  his  *  drooping  head. 
And  all  because,  that  Bounty  she  is  dead. 


The  greater  that  I  feele  my  griefe  to  be, 

The  lesser  able,  am  I  to  expresse  it ; 

Such  is  the  nature  of  extremitie, 

The  heart  it  som-thing  eases,  to  confesse  it. 

Therefore  He  wake  my  muse,  amidst  her  sleeping. 
And  what  I  want  in  wordes,  supplie  with  weeping. 


Weepe  still  mine  eies,  a  Riuer  full  of  Teares, 
To  drowne  my  Sorrowe  in,  that  so  molests  me ; 
And  rid  my  head  of  cares  ;  my  thoughts  of  feares  : 
Exiling  sweet  Content,  that  so  detests  me. 
But  ah  (alas)  my  Teares  are  almost  dun. 
And  yet  my  griefe,  it  is  but  new  begun. 


Euen 


1605  "  her." 


for  the  Death  of  Liber alitie.  165 


Euen  as  the  Sunne,  when  as  it  leaues  our  sight, 
Doth  shine  with  those  Antipodes  beneath  vs ; 
Lending  the  other  worlde  her  glorious  light, 
And  dismall  Darknesse,  onely  doeth  bequeath  vs  : 
Euen  so  sweet  Bounties  seeming  dead  to  mee, 
Liues  now  to  none,  but  smooth-Tongd  Platterie. 


O  Adulation^  Canker- worme  of  Truth  ; 
The  flattring  Glasso  of  Pride,  and  Self-conceit : 
(Making  olde  wrinkled  Age,  appeare  like  youth) 
Dissimulations  Maske,  and  follies  Beate  : 
Pittie  it  is,  that  thou  art  so  rewarded. 
Whilst  Truth  and  Honestie,  goe  vnregarded. 


O  that  Nobilitie,  it  selfe  should  staine, 
In  being  bountifuU,  to  such  vile  Creatures  : 
Who,  when  they  flatter  most,  then  most  they  faine ; 
Knowing  what  humor  best,  will  fit  their  Natures. 
What  man  so  mad,  that  knowes  himselfe  but  pore, 
And  will  beleeue  that  he  hath  riches  store. 


Vpon 


166  The  Complaint  of  Poetrie 


Vpon  a  time,  the  craftie  Foxe  did  flatter 
The  foolish  Pye  (whose  mouth  was  full  of  meate) 
The  Pye  beleeuing  him,  began  to  chatter. 
And  sing  for  ioy,  (not  hauing  list  to  eate) 

And  whils't  the  foolish  Pye,  her  meate  let  fall, 
The  craftie  Poxe,  did  runne  awaie  with  all. 


Terence  describeth  vnder  Gnatoes  name. 

The  right  conditions  of  a  Parasyte  : 

(And  with  such  Eloquence,  sets  foorth  the  same, 

As  doeth  the  learned  Reader  much  delyght) 
Shewing,  that  such  a  sycophant  as  Gnato, 
Is  more  esteem' d,  then  twentie  such  as  Plato. 


Bounty  looke  backe,  vpon  thy  goods  mispent ; 

And  thinke  how  ill,  thou  hast  bestow'd  thy  mony : 

Consider  not  their  wordes,  but  their  intent ; 

Their  hearts  are  gall,  although  their  tongues  be  hony 
They  speake  not  as  they  thinke,  but  all  is  fained, 
And  onely  to  th'  intent  to  be  maintained. 


And 


for  the  Death  of  Ldberalitie.  167 


And  herein  happie,  I  areade  the  poore ; 
No  flattring  Spanyels,  fawne  on  them  for  meate  : 
The  reason  is,  because  the  Gountrey  Boore 
Hath  little  enough,  for  himself e  to  eate  : 

No  man  will  flatter  him,  except  himselfe  ; 

And  why  ?  because  he  hath  no  store  of  wealth. 


But  sure  it  is  not  Liberalitie 

That  doeth  reward  these  fawning  smel-feasts  so 

It  is  the  vice  of  Prodigalitie, 

That  doeth  the  Bankes  of  Bowity  ouer-flo : 

Bounty  is  dead  :  yea  so  it  needes  must  bee ; 

Or  if  aliue,  yet  is  shee  dead  to  mee. 


Therefore  as  one,  whose  friend  is  lately  dead, 
I  will  bewaile  the  death,  of  my  deere  *  frend ; 
Vppon  whose  Tombe,  ten  thousand  Teares  He  shead. 
Till  drearie  Death,  of  mee  shall  make  an  end : 
Or  if  she  want  a  Toombe,  to  her  desart, 
Oh  then.  He  burie  her  within  my  hart. 


But 


1605  "  late." 


168  The  Complaint  of  Poetrie 


But  {Bounty)  if  thou  loue  a  Tombe  of  stone, 
Oh  then  seeke  out,  a  hard  and  stonie  hart : 
Eor  were  mine  so,  yet  would  it  melt  with  mone. 
And  all  because,  that  I  with  thee  must  part. 
Then,  if  a  stonie  hart  must  thee  interr, 
Goe  finde  a  Step -dame,  or  a  Vsurer. 


And  sith  there  dies  no  Wight,  of  great  account, 
But  hath  an  Epitaph  compos'd  by  mee. 
Bounty,  that  did  all  other  far  surmount, 
Vpon  her  Tombe,  this  Epitaph  shall  bee  : 

Sere  lies  the  Wight,  that  Learning  did  maintaine. 
And  at  the  last,  by  A  VABICB  was  slaine. 


Vile  Auarice,  why  hast  thou  kildd  my  Deare  ? 

And  robd  the  World,  of  such  a  worthy  Treasure  ? 

In  whome  no  sparke  of  goodnesse  doth  appeare, 

So  greedie  is  thy  mind,  without  all  measure. 

Thy  death,  from  Death  did  merit  to  release  her : 
The  Murtherers  deseru'd  to  die,  not  Ccesar. 


The 


for  the  Death  of  Liheralitie.  169 


The  Merchants  wife  ;  the  ^  Tender-harted  Mother  : 
That  leaues  her  Loue ;  whose  Sonne  is  prest  for  warre ; 
(Resting,  the  one ;  as  woefull  as  the  other ;) 
Hopes  yet  at  length  ;  when  ended  is  the  iarre ; 
To  see  her  Hushand  ;  see  her  Sonne  againe : 
"Were  it  not  then  for  Hope,  the  hart  were  slaine. 


But  I,  whose  hope  is  turned  to  despaire, 
Nere  looke  to  see  my  dearest  Deare  againe  : 
Then  Pleasure  sit  thou  downe,  in  Sorrowes  Chaire, 
And  (for  a  while)  thy  wonted  Mirth  refraine. 
Boimty  is  dead,  that  whylome  was  my  Treasure  : 
Bounty  is  dead,  my  ioy  and  onely  pleasure. 


If  Pythias  death,  of  Damon  were  bewailed ; 

Or  Fillades  did  rue,  Orestes  ende  : 

If  Hercules,  for  Hylas  losse  were  quailed ; 

Or  Theseus,  for  Pyrithous  Teares  did  spend  : 
When  doe  I  mourne  for  Bounty,  being  dead  : 
Who  lining,  was  my  hand,  my  hart,  ray  head. 


My 

'  1606  "and." 
Z 


170  The  Complaint  of  Poetrie 


My  hand,  to  lielpe  mee,  in  my  greatest  need : 
My  hart,  to  comfort  mee,  in  my  distresse : 
My  head,  whom  onely  I  obeyd,  indeed : 
If  shee  were  such,  how  can  my  griefe  be  lesse  ? 

Perhaps  my  wordes,  may  pierce  the  ParccB's  '  eares ; 

If  not  with  wordes,  He  moue  them  with  my  teares. 


But  ah  (alas)  my  Teares  are  spent  in  vaine, 
(For  she  is  dead,  and  I  am  left  aliue) 
Teares  cannot  call,  sweet  Bounty  backe  againe ; 
Then  why  doe  I,  gainst  Pate  and  Fortune  striue  ? 

And  for  her  death,  thus  weepe,  lament,  and  crie ; 

Sith  euery  mortall  wight,  is  borne  to  die. 


But  as  the  woefull  mother  doeth  lament. 
Her  tender  babe,  with  cruell  Death  opprest : 
Whose  life  was  spotlesse,  pure,  and  innocent, 
(And  therefore  sure,  its  soule  is  gone  to  rest) 
So  Bounties  which  her  selfe  did  vpright  keepe. 
Yet  fo?  her  losse,  loue  cannot  chuse  but  weep. 


The 


'  1605,  not  a  capital  P. 


for  the  Death  of  Ldheralitie.  171 


The  losse  of  her,  is  losse  to  many  a  one  : 
The  losse  of  her,  is  losse  vnto  the  poore  : 
And  therefore  not  a  losse,  to  mee  alone, 
But  vnto  such,  as  goe  from  Doore  to  Doore. 

Her  losse,  is  losse  vnto  the  f atherlesse ; 

And  vnto  all,  that  are  in  great  distresse. 


The  maimed  Souldier,  comming  from  the  warre ; 
The  woefull  wight,  whose  house  was  lately  burnd ; 
The  sillie  soule ;  the  wofull  Traueylar ; 
And  all,  whom  Fortune  at  her  feet  hath  spurnd  ; 

Lament  the  losse  of  lAberalitie  : 
"  Its  ease,  to  haue  in  griefe  some  Companie. 


The  Wife  of  Hector  (sad  Andromache) 
Did  not  bewaile,  her  husbands  death  alone  : 
But  (sith  he  was  the  Troicms  onely  stay) 
The  wiues  of  Troy  (for  him)  made  equall  mone. 
Shee,  shead  the  teares  of  Loue  ;  and  they  of  pittie  : 
Shee,  for  her  deare  dead  Lord ;  they,  for  their  Cittie. 


Nor 
z2 


172  The  Complaint  of  Poetrie 


Nor  is  the  Death  of  Liheralitie, 

(xllthough  my  griefe  be  greater  than  the  rest) 

Onely  lamented,  and  bewaild  of  mee ; 

(And  yet  of  mee,  she  was  beloued  best) 
But,  sith  she  was  so  bountiful!  to  all, 
Slie  is  lamented,  both  of  great  and  small. 


O  that  my  Teares  could  moue  the  powres  diuine, 
That  Bountie  might  be  called  from  the  dead  : 
As  Pitty  pierc'd  the  hart  of  JProserpine  ; 
Who  (moued  with  the  Teares  Admetus  shead) 

Did  sende  him  backe  againe,  his  louing  Wife  ; 

Who  left  her  owne,  to  saue  her  husbands  life. 


Impartial!  Farcm,  will  no  prayers  moue  you  ? 
Can  Creatures  so  diuine,  haue  stony  harts  ? 
Haplesse  are  they,  whose  hap  it  is  to  proue  you, 
Por  you  respect  no  Creatures  good  Desarts. 

O  Atropos,  (the  cruelst  of  the  three) 

Why  hast  thou  tane,  my  faithful!  friend  from  mee  ? 


But 


for  the  Death  of  TAheralitie.  173 


But  all,  She  cannot  (or  She  will  not)  heare  me, 

Or  if  She  doo,  yet  may  not  She  repent  her  : 

Then  come  (sweet  Death)  O  why  doest  thou  forbeare  me  ? 

Aye  mee  !  thy  Dart  is  blunt,  it  will  not  enter. 

Oh  now  I  knowe  the  cause,  and  reason  why  ; 

I  am  immortall,  and  I  cannot  dye. 


So  CythercBa  would  haue  dide,  but  could  not ; 
When  faire  Adonis  by  her  side  lay  slaine  : 
So  I  desire  the  Sisters,  what  I  should  not ; 
For  why  (alas)  I  wish  for  Death  in  vaine ; 

Death  is  their  Seruant,  and  obeys  their  will ; 

And  if  they  bid  him  spare,  he  cannot  kill. 


Oh  would  I  were,  as  other  Creatures  are ; 

Then  would  I  die,  and  so  my  griefe  were  ended : 

But  Death  (against  my  will)  my  life  doeth  spare  ; 

(So  little  with  the  fates  I  am  befrended) 

Sith,  when  I  would,  thou  doost  my  sute  denie, 
Vile  Tyrant,  when  thou  wilt,  I  will  not  die. 


And 


174 


The  Complaint  of  Poetrie. 


And  Bounty,  though  her  body  thou  hast  slaine, 
Yet  shall  her  memorie  remaine  for  euer : 
Eor  euer,  shall  her  memorie  remaine  ; 
Whereof  no  spitefuU  Fortune  can  bereaue  her. 

Then  Sorrowe  cease,  and  wipe  thy  weeping  eye  ; 

For  Pame  shall  Hue,  when  all  the  World  shall  dye. 


FINIS. 


THE 

Comtat,  betweene 

Confcience  and  CouetoufneflTe, 
in  the  minde  of  Man, 


\jHidnon  mcrtaUafeSlora  cogis 
AuripKrafimes  \    Virgil. 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  GS.  for  John  laggard,  and  arc  to 

be  fblde  at  his  shoppe  neere  Temple-  batre,  at  the 

Signe  of  the  Hand  and  flarre. 

2  5  5^  8. 


THE 

COMBAT,  BETWEENE 
CONSCIENCE  AND  COVETOUSNESSE 

.      IN  THE  MINDE  OF  MAN. 


Auri  sacra  fames  ? — VmaiL 


quid  non  mortalia  pectora  cogis 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  G.  8.  for  John  laggard,  and  are  to 

be  solde  at  his  shoppe  neere  Temple-barre,  at  the 

Signe  of  the  Hand  and  starre. 

1598. 


To  his  Worshipful!  good  friend, 

Maister  lohn  Steuenton,  of  I>othill,  in  the 

County  of  Salop,  Esquire. 

Sith  Conscience  (long  since)  is  exilde  the  Citty,  .  • 

O  let  her  in  the  Countrey,  finde  some  Pitty  : 
But  if  she  he  exilde,  the  Countrey  too, 
0  let  her  finde,  some  fauour  yet  of  you.* 

'  Omitted  in  1605  edition. 


2a 


THE  COMBAT,  BETWEENE  CONSCIENCE  AND 
COUETOUSNESSE,  IN  THE  MIND  OF  MAN. 


NO  W  had  the  cole-blacke  steedes,  of  pitchie  Night, 
(Breathing  out  Darknesse)  banisht  cheerfull  Light, 
And  sleepe  (the  shaddowe  of  eternall  rest) 
My  generall  senses  wholy  had  possest. 
When  loe,  there  was  presented  to  my  view, 
A  vision  strange,  yet  not  so  strange,  as  true. 
Conscience  (me  thought)  appeared  vnto  mee. 
Cloth' d  with  good  Deedes,  with  Trueth  and  Honestie, 
Her  countinance  demure,  and  sober  sad, 
Nor  any  other  Ornament  shee  had. 
Then  Couetousnesse  did  incounter  her. 
Clad  in  a  Cassock,  lyke  a  Vsurer, 
The  Cassock,  it  was  made  of  poore-mens  ^  skinnes, 
Lac'd  here  and  there,  with  many  seuerall  sinnes  : 
Nor  was  it  furd,  with  any  common  f  urre ; 
Or  if  it  were,  himself e  hee  was  the^r. 
A  Bag  of  money,  in  his  hande  he  helde, 
The  which  with  hungry  eie,  he  still  behelde. 
The  place  wherein  this  vision  first  began, 
(A  spacious  plaine)  was  cald  The  Minde  of  Man. 


Tho 


'  In  1605  misprinU-<l  *•  j>o<)r  men. 

2  A  2 


180  The  Combat  betweene 


The  Carle  no  sooner,  Conscience  had  espyde, 

But  swelling  lyke  a  Toade,  (puft  vp  with  pryde) 

He  straight  began  against  her  to  inuey  : 

These  were  the  wordes,  which  Couetise  did  sey. 

Conscience  (quoth  hee)  how  dar'st  thou  bee  so  bold, 

To  claime  the  place,  that  I  by  right  doe  hold  ? 

Neither  by  right,  nor  might,  thou  canst  obtaine  it : 

By  might  (thou  knowst  full  well)  thou  canst  not  gaine  it. 

The  greatest  Princes  are  my  followars, 

The  King  in  Peace,  the  Captaine  in  the  Warres  : 

The  Courtier,  and  the  simple  Countrey-man ; 

The  ludge,  the  Merchant,  and  the  Gentleman ; 

The  learned  Lawyer,  and  the  Politician  : 

The  skilfull  Surgeon,  and  the  fine  Physician  : 

In  briefe,  all  sortes  of  men  mee  entertaine. 

And  hold  mee,  as  their  Soules  sole  Soueraigne, 

And  in  my  ^  quarrell  they  will  fight  and  die, 

Bather  then  I  should  suffer  iniurie. 

And  as  for  title,  interest,  and  right. 

He  proue  its  mine  by  that,  as  well  as  might. 

Though  Conetousnesse,  were  vsed  long  before. 

Yet  ludas  Treason,  made  my  Pame  the  more ; 

When  Christ  he  caused,  crucifyde  to  bee, 

Por  thirtie  pence,  man  solde  his  minde  to  mee  : 

And  now  adaies,  what  tenure  is  more  free. 

Then  that  which  purchas'd  is,  with  gold  and  fee  ? 


Con- 

'  1605, "  their." 


Conscience  and  Couetousnesse.  181 


Conscience. 


With  patience,  liaue  I  heard  thy  large  Complaint, 

Wherein  the  Diuell,  would  be  thought  a  Saint : 

But  wot  ye  what,  the  saying  is  of  olde  ? 

One  tale  is  good,  vntill  anothers  tolde. 

Truth  is  the  right,  that  I  must  stand  vpon, 

(For  other  title,  hath  poore  Conscience  none) 

For  I  will  proue  it,  by  Antiquitie, 

That  thou  art  but  an  vp-start,  vnto  mee ; 

Before  that  thou  wast  euer  thought  vpon. 

The  minde  of  Man,  belongd  to  mee  alone. 

For  after  that  the  Lord,  had  Man  Created, 

And  him  in  blisse-f  ull  Paradice  had  seated ; 

(Knowing  his  Nature  was  to  vice  inclynde) 

God  gaue  rae  vnto  man,  to  rule  his  mynde. 

And  as  it  were,  his  Gouernour  to  bee. 

To  guide  his  minde,  in  Trueth,  and  Honestie. 

And  where  thou  sayst,  that  man  did  sell  his  soule ; 

That  Argument,  I  quicklie  can  controule : 

It  is  a  fayned  fable,  thou  doost  tell. 

That,  which  is  not  his  owne,  he  cannot  sell ; 

No  man  can  sell  his  soule,  altho  he  thought  it : 

Mans  soule  is  Christs,  for  hee  hath  dearely  bought  it. 

Therefore  vsurping  Coitetise,  be  gone, 

For  why,  the  minde  belongs  to  mee  alone. 


Coue- 


182  The  Combat  betweene 


Couetousnesse. 

Alas  poore  Conscience,  how  thou  art  deceav'd  ?  ^ 

As  though  of  senses,  thou  wert  quite  bereaud. 

What  wilt  thou  say  (that  thinkst  thou  canst  not  erre) 

If  I  can  proue  my  selfe  the  ancienter  ? 

Though  into  Adams  minde,  God  did  infuse  thee, 

Before  his  fall,  yet  man  did  neuer  vse  thee. 

What  was  it  else,  but  Aurice  in  Eue, 

(Thinking  thereby,  in  greater  Blisse  to  line) 

That  made  her  taste,  of  the  forbidden  fruite  ? 

Of  her  Desier,  was  not  I  the  roote  ? 

Did  she  not  couet  ?  (tempted  by  the  Deuill) 

The  Apple  of  the  Tree,  of  good  and  euill  ? 

Before  ^  man  vsed  Conscience,  she  did  couet : 

Therefore  by  her  Transgression,  here  I  proue  it. 

That  Couetousnesse  possest  the  minde  of  man. 

Before  that  any  Conscience  began. 

Conscience. 

Euen  as  a  counterfeited  precious  stone, 

Seemes  to  bee  far  more  rich,  to  looke  vpon. 

Then  doeth  the  right :  But  when  a  man  comes  neere. 

His  basenesse  then,  doeth  euident  appeere  : 

So  Couetise,  the  Reasons  thou  dost  tell, 

Seeme  to  be  strong,  but  being  weighed  well. 

They 

•  1605,  «  decay'd."  «  1605,  "  Before  that  man." 


Conscience  and  Couetousnesse.  183 


They  are  indeed,  but  onely  meere  Illusions, 
And  doe  in  force  but  very  weake  Conclusions. 
When  as  the  Lord  (fore-knowing  his  offence) 
Had  giuen  man  a  Charge,  of  Abstinence, 
And  to  refraine,  the  fruite  of  good  and  ill : 
Man  had  a  Conscience,  to  obey  his  will. 
And  neuer  would  be  tempted  thereunto, 
Vntill  the  Woeman,  shee,  did  worke  man  woe. 
And  made  him  breake,  the  Lords  Commaundement, 
Which  all  Mankinde,  did  afterward  repent : 
So  that  thou  seest,  thy  Argument  is  vaine, 
And  I  am  prov'd,  the  older  of  the  twaine. 

Couetousnesse. 

Eond  Wretch,  it  was  not  Conscience,  but  feare. 

That  made  the  first  man  (Adam)  to  forbeare 

To  tast  the  fruite,  of  the  forbidden  Tree, 

Lest,  if  offending  bee  were  found  to  bee, 

(According  as  lehouah  saide  on  hye, 

For  his  so  great  Transgression,  hee  should  dye.) 

Eeare  curbd  his  minde,  it  was  not  Conscience  then, 

(Por  Conscience  freely,  rules  the  harts  of  men) 

And  is  a  godly  motion  of  the  mynde, 

To  euerie  vertuous  action  inclynde, 

And  not  enforc'd,  through  feare  of  Punishment, 

But  is  to  vertue,  voluntary  bent : 

Then  (simple  Trul)  be  packing  pressentlie, 

Por  in  this  place,  there  is  no  roome  for  thee. 

Con- 


184  The  Combat  betweene 


Conscience. 

Aye  mee  (distressed  Wight)  what  shall  I  doe  ? 
Where  shall  I  rest  ?  or  whither  shall  I  goe  ? 
Vnto  the  rich  ?  (woes  mee)  they,  doe  ahhor  me  : 
Vnto  the  poore  ?  (alas)  they,  care  not  for  me  : 
Vnto  to  the  Olde-man  ?  hee,  hath  mee  forgot : 
Vnto  the  Young-man  ?  yet  hee,  knowes  me  not : 
Vnto  the  Prince  ?  hee,  can  dispence  with  mee : 
Vnto  the  Magistrate  ?  that,  may  not  bee  : 
Vnto  the  Court  ?  for  it,  I  am  too  base : 
Vnto  the  Countrey  ?  there,  I  haue  no  place. 
Vnto  the  Citty  ?  thence,  I  am  exilde  : 
Vnto  the  Village  ?  there,  I  am  reuilde  : 
Vnto  the  Barre  ?  the  Lawyer  there,  is  bribed  ? 
Vnto  the  Warre  ?  there,  Cofiscience  is  derided  : 
Vnto  the  Temple  ?  there,  I  am  disguised  : 
Vnto  the  Market  ?  there,  I  am  despised  : 
Thus  both  the  young  and  olde,  the  rich  and  poore, 
Against  mee  (silly  Creature)  shut  their  doore. 
Then,  sith  each  one  seekes  my  rebuke  and  shame. 
He  goe  againe  to  Heauen  (from  whence  I  came.) 

This  saide  (me  thought)  making  exceeding  mone. 
She  went  her  way,  and  left  the  Carle  alone. 
Who  vaunting  of  his  late-got  victorie, 
Aduanc'd  himselfe  in  pompe  and  Maiestie : 
Much  like  a  Cocke,  who  hauing  kild  his  foe. 
Brisks  vp  himselfe,  and  then  begins  to  crow. 
So  Couetisej  when  Conscience  was  departed. 


Gran 


Conscience  and  Couetousnesse.  185 


Gan  to  be  proud  in  minde,  and  hauty  harted  : 
And  in  a  stately  Chayre  of  state  he  set  him, 
(For  Conscience  banisht)  there  was  none  to  let  him. 
And  being  but  one  entrie,  to  this  Plaine, 
(Whereof  as  king  and  Lord,  he  did  remaine) 
Repentance  cald,  he  causd  that  to  be  kept. 
Lest  Conscience  should  returne,  whilst  as  he  slept : 
Wherefore  he  causd  it,  to  be  wacht  and  warded 
Both  night  and  Day,  and  to  be  strongly  guarded  : 
To  keepe  it  safe,  these  three  he  did  intreat, 
Hardnesse  of  hart,  with  Falshood  and  Deceat : 
And  if  at  any  time,  she  chaunc'd  to  venter, 
Rardnesse  of  hart,  denide  her  still  to  enter. 
When  Conscience  was  exilde  the  minde  of  Man, 
Then  Couetise,  his  gouernment  began. 
This  once  being  scene,  what  I  had  seene  before, 
(Being  onely  seene  in  sleepe)  was  seene  no  more ; 
For  with  the  sorrowe,  which  my  soule  did  take 
At  sight  hereof,  forthwith  I  did  awake. 


FINIS. 


2b 


Poems: 

In  diuers  humors, 

Trahitfuaquim^Ht  Voluntas,    Virgil* 


LONDON, 
Printed  by  G.S.  for  John  laggard,  and  are  to 

be  Ibldc  at  his  shoppe  ncere  Templc-barrcj  at  the 
Sigtie  of  the  Hand  and  ftarre. 

15$^  2. 


POEMS: 

IN     DIVEES    HUMOES. 


Trahit  sua  quemqiie  voluptas. — Virgil. 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  G.  S.  for  lohn  laggard,  and  are  to 
be  solde  at  his  shoppe  neerc  Templc-barro,  at  the 
Signe  of  the  Hand  and  starre. 

1598. 


2b2 


To  the  learned,  and  accomplisht  Gen- 
tleman, Maister  Nicholas  Blackleech,  of 
Grayes  Inne. 


To  you,  that  know  the  tuch  of  true  Conceat ; 
(Whose  many  gifts  I  neede  not  to  repeat) 
I  write  these  Lines :  fruits  of  ynriper  yeares ; 
Wherein  my  Muse  no  harder  censure  feares  : 
Hoping  in  gentle  Worth,  you  will  them  take  ; 
Not  for  the  gift  but  for  the  giuers  sake. 


189 


SONNET  I. 

To  his  friend  Maister  R.  L.     In  praise  of 
Musique  and  Poetrie. 

If  Musique  and  sweet  Poetrie  agree, 
As  they  must  needes  (the  Sister  and  the  Brother) 
Then  must  the  Loue  be  great,  twixt  thee  and  mee, 
Because  thou  lou'st  the  one,  and  I  the  other. 

Dowland  to  thee  is  deare ;  whose  heauenly  tuch 
Vpon  the  Lute,  doeth  rauish  humaine  sense  : 
Spenser  to  mee ;  whose  deepe  Conceit  is  such, 
As  passing  all  Conceit,  needs  no  defence. 

Thou  lou'st  to  heare  the  sweete  melodious  sound. 
That  Fhoebus  Lute  (the  Queene  of  Musique)  makes  : 
And  I  in  deepe  Delight  am  chiefly  drownd. 
When  as  himselfe  to  singing  he  betakes. 

One  God  is  God  of  Both  (as  Poets  faigne) 

One  Knight  loues  Both,  and  Both  in  thee  remaine. 


SONNET  II. 

Against  the  Dispraysers  of  Foetrie. 

Chaucer  is  dead ;  and  Oower  lyes  in  graue  ; 
The  Earle  of  Surrey,  long  agoe  is  gone  ; 
Sir  Philip  Sidneis  soule,  the  Heauens  haue ; 
George  Gascoigne  him  beforne,  was  tomb'd  in  stone. 

Yet,  tho  their  Bodies  lye  full  low  in  ground, 
(As  euery  thing  must  dye,  that  earst  was  borne) 
Their  lining  fame,  no  Fortune  can  confound ; 
Nor  euer  shaU  their  Labours  be  forlorne. 

And  you,  that  discommend  sweete  Poetrie, 
(So  that  the  Subiect  of  the  same  be  good) 
Here  may  you  see,  your  fond  simplicitie ; 
Sith  Kings  haue  fauord  it,  of  royall  Blood. 

The  King  of  Scots  (now  lining)  is  a  Poet, 

As  his  LepantOy  and  his  Furies  shoe  it. 


190 


A  REMEMBEANCE  OE  SOME  ENGLISH  POETS. 

LITJE  Spenser  euer,  in  thy  Fairy  Queene  : 
Whose  like  (for  deepe  Conceit)  was  neuer  scene : 
Crownd  mayst  thou  bee,  vnto  thy  more  renowne, 
(As  King  of  Poets)  with  a  Lawrell  Crowne. 

And  Danielli  praised  for  thy  sweet-chast  Verse  :  ^ 
Whose  Eame  is  grav'd  on  Rosamonds  blacke  Herse. 
Still  mayst  thou  Hue  :  and  still  be  honored, 
Eor  that  rare  Worke,  The  White  Rose  and  the  Red. 

And  Drayton,  whose  wel- written  Tragedies, 
And  sweete  Epistles,  soare  thy  fame  to  skies. 
Thy  learned  Name,  is  sequall  with  the  rest ; 
Whose  stately  Numbers  are  so  well  addrest. 

And  Shakespeare  thou,  whose  hony-flowing  ^  Vaine, 
(Pleasing  the  World)  thy  Praises  doth  obtaine.' 
Whose  Venus^  and  whose  Lucrece  (sweete,  and  chaste) 
Thy  Name  in  fames  immortall  Booke  haue  plac't. 
Liue  euer  you,  at  least  in  Eame  Hue  euer  : 
WeU  may  the  Bodye  dye,  but  Eame  dies  neuer.^ 

AN  ODE. 

AS  it  fell  vpon  a  Day, 
In  the  merrie  Month  of  May, 
Sitting  in  a  pleasant  shade,  * 
Which  a  groue  of  Myrtles  made, 
Beastes  did  leape,  and  Birds  did  sing, 
Trees  did  grow,  and  Plants  did  spring : 


'  1605,  no  capital  V.  *  Ibid,  no  hyphen  and  no  capital  V. 

^  Ibid.  "  thy  praises  doth  containe."  *  Ibid,  no  capital  V. 

*  Ibid.  Finis  after  this  '  Remembrance.' 


Euery 


An  Ode.  191 


Euery  thing  did  banish  mone, 

Saue  the  Nightingale  alone. 

Shee  (poore  Bird)  as  all  forlorne, 

Leand  her  Breast  vp-till  a  Thome, 

And  there  sung  the  dolefulst  Ditty, 

That  to  heare  it  was  great  Pitty. 

Fie,  fie,  fie,  now  would  she  cry 

Teru  Teru,  by  and  by : 

That  to  heare  her  so  complaine. 

Scarce  I  could  from  Teares  refraine  : 

Por  her  griefes  so  liuely  showne. 

Made  me  thinke  vpon  mine  owne. 

Ah  (thought  I)  thou  mournst  in  vaine  ; 

None  takes  Pitty  on  thy  paine  : 

Senslesse  Trees,  they  cannot  heere  thee ; 

Buthlesse  Beares,  they  will  not  cheer  thee. 

King  Fandion,  hee  is  dead  : 

All  thy  friends  are  lapt  in  Lead. 

All  thy  fellow  Birds  doe  singe, 

Carelesse  of  thy  sorrowing. 

Whilst  as  fickle  Portune  smilde, 

Thou  and  I,  were  both  beguilde. 

Euerie  one  that  flatters  thee. 

Is  no  friend  in  miserie : 

Words  are  easie,  like  the  winde ; 

PaithfuU  friends  are  hard  to  finde : 

Euerie  man  will  bee  thy  friend, 

Whilst  thou  hast  wherewith  to  spend  : 

But  if  store  of  Crownes  be  scant, 

No  man  will  supply  thy  want. 


If 


192  An  Ode. 

If  that  one  be  prodigall, 
Bountiful!,  they  will  him  call : 
And  with  such-like  flattering, 
Pitty  but  hee  were  a  King. 
If  he  bee  adict  to  vice, 
Quickly  him,  they  will  intice. 
If  to  Woemen  hee  be  bent, 
They  haue  at  Commaundement. 
But  if  Fortune  once  doe  frowne, 
Then  farewell  his  great  renowne : 
They  that  fawnd  on  him  before, 
Vse  his  company  no  more. 
Hee  that  is  thy  friend  indeed, 
Hee  will  helpe  thee  in  thy  neede  : 
If  thou  sorrowe,  hee  will  weepe ; 
If  thou  wake,  hee  cannot  sleepe : 
Thus  of  euerie  griefe,  in  hart 
Hee,  with  thee,  doeth  beare  a  Part. 
These  are  certaine  signes,  to  knowe 
EaithfuU  friend,  from  flatt'ring  foe. 


WRITTEN,  AT  THE  REQUEST  OE  A  GENTLEMAN, 
VNDER  A  GENTLEWOMANS  PICTURE. 

Even  as  Apelles  could  not  paint  Campaspes  face  aright. 
Because  Campaspes  Sun-bright  eyes  did  dimme  Apelles  sight : 
Euen  so,  amazed  at  her  sight,  her  sight,  all  sights  excelling, 
Like  Nyobe  the  Painter  stoode,  her  sight  his  sight  expelling : 
Thus  Art  and  Nature  did  contend,  who  should  the  Victor  bee. 
Till  Art  by  Nature  was  supprest,  as  all  the  worlde  may  see. 


193 


AN  EPITAPH  VPON  THE  DEATH,  OF  SIR  PHILIP  SIDKEY, 
KNIGHT :  LORD-GOUERNOUR  OF  VLISING. 

THAT  England  lost,  that  Learning  lov'd,  that  euery  mouth  commended, 
That  fame  did  prayse,  that  Prince  did  rayse,  that  Countrey  so  defended, 
Here  lyes  the  man :  lyke  to  the  Swan,  who  knowing  shee  shall  die, 
Doeth  tune  her  voice  vnto  the  Spheares,  and  scomes  Mortalitie. 
Two  worthie  Earls  his  vncles  were ;  a  Lady  was  his  Mother ; 
A  Knight  his  father ;  and  himselfe  a  noble  Countesse  Brother. 
Belov'd,  bewaild;  aliue,  now  dead;  of  all,  with  Teares  for  euer  ; 
Here  lyes  Sir  Philip  Sidneis  Corps,  whom  cruell  Death  did  seuer. 
He  liv'd  for  her,  hee  dyde  for  her ;  for  whom  he  dyde,  he  lined  : 
0  graunt  (0  God)  that  wee  of  her  may  neuer  be  de})riued. 


AN  EPITAPH  VPON  THE  DEATH  OF  HIS  AUNT, 
MISTRESSE  ELIZABETH  SKRYMSHER. 

OE  here  beholde  the  certaine  Ende,  of  euery  lluing  wight : 
No  Creature  is  secure  from  Death,  for  Death  will  haue  his  Right. 
He  spareth  none :  both  rich  and  poore,  both  young  and  olde  must  die  ; 
So  fraile  is  flesh,  so  short  is  Life,  so  sure  Mortalitie. 


L 


When  first  the  Bodye  Hues  to  Life,  the  soule  first  dies  to  sinne : 

And  they  that  loose  this  earthly  Life,  a  heauenly  Life  shall  winne, 

If  they  Hue  weU  :  as  well  she  liv'd,  that  lyeth  Vnder  lieere ; 

Whose  Vertuous  Life  to  all  the  Worlde,  most  plainly  did  appeere. 

Good  to  tlie  poore,  friend  to  the  rich,  and  foe  to  no  Degree : 

A  President  of  modest  Life,  and  peorelesse  Chastitie. 

Who  louing  more,  Who  more  belov'd,  of  euerie  honest  mynde  ? 

Who  more  to  Hospitalitie,  and  Clemencie  inclinde 

Then  she  ?  that  being  buried  here,  lyes  wrapt  in  Earth  below  ; 

From  whence  wee  came,  to  whom  wee  must,  and  bee  as  shee  is  now, 

A  Clodd  of  Clay :  though  her  pure  soule  in  cndlesso  Blisse  doeth  rest ; 

loving  all  loy,  the  Place  of  Peace,  j)re])arod  for  the  blest : 

Where  holy  Angells  sit  and  sing,  before  the  King  of  Kings ; 

Not  mynding  worldly  Vanities,  but  onely  heavenly  Things. 

Vnto  which  loy,  Vnto  which  Blisse,  Vnto  which  r hu*o  of  Pleui^ure, 

God  graunt  that  wee  may  come  at  last,  t'inioy  that  heauenly  Treasure. 

Which  to  obtaino,  to  Hue  as  shee  hath  done  let  us  endeuor ; 

That  we  may  Hue  witli  Clurist  himselfe  (above)  that  Hues  for  ouor. 

2c 


194 


A  COMPARISON  OF  THE 
LIEE  OE  MAN. 

Mans  life  is  well  compared  to  a  feast, 
Eurnisht  with  choice  of  all  Varietie  : 
To  it  comes  Tyme ;  ^  and  as  a  bidden  guest 
Hee  sets  ^  him  downe,  in  Pompe  and  Maiestie ; 
The  three-folde  Age  ^  of  Man,  the  Waiters  bee. 
Then  with  an  *  earthen  voyder  (made  of  clay) 
Comes  Death,  &  takes  the  table  clean  away. 


FINIS. 


»  1605,  no  capital  T. 


^  Ibid.  '  sits.' 


Ihid.  no  capital  A. 


«  Ibid.  '  a. 


V.     FROM  ENGLAND'S  HELICON. 
1600. 


2c2» 


Note.— From  "  England's  Helicon  :  "  1600  (Sign  H.  1  and  2).  Like  "  As  it  fell 
vpon  a  day,"  as  it  appears  in  E.  H.  "  The  Vnknowne  Sheepheards  Complaint "  is  signed 
Ignoto ;  but  seeing  that  "  As  it  fell  vpon  a  day  "  is  known  from  other  sources  to  be 
Barnefield's,  its  heading,  "  Another  of  the  same  Sheepheards,"  enables  us  to  redeem 
"  The  Vnknowne  Sheepheards  Complaint "  for  Barnefield.  This  is  done  for  the  first 
time,  but  it  is  clear  that  the  somewhat  ill-informed  editor  of  "  England's  Helicon " 
(John  Bodenham  ?),  though  for  the  moment  unaware  (or  uncertain)  of  the  authorship 
of  either,  did  know  that  both  belonged  to  the  same  Author.  See  our  Introduction  on 
"As  it  fell  vpon  a  day."  Sonnet  XV.  of  the  Sonnets  with  "Cynthia,"  &c.  (p.  91), 
also  appears  as  "The  Shepheards  Sonnet"  in  "England's  Helicon,"  (p.  2),  with  only 
slight  changes,  e.  g.  in  line  1  '  My '  for  '  Ah,'  '  Ganimede '  for  '  Ganymede,'  '  swaines '  for 
'swains.'     His  name  'Rich.  Barnefield'  is  added  to  it. — G. 


197 


f  THE  VNKNOWNE  SHEEPHEARDS  COMPLAINT. 

My  Elocks  feede  not,  my  Ewes  breede  not. 
My  Rammes  speede  not,  all  is  amisse  : 
Loue  is  denying,  Faith  is  defying. 
Harts  renying,  causer  of  this. 
All  my  merry  liggs  are  quite  forgot, 
All  my  Ladies  loue  is  lost  God  wot. 
"Where  her  faith  was  firmely  fixt  in  loue. 
There  a  nay  is  plac'd  without  remoue. 

One  silly  crosse,  wrought  all  my  losse, 

O  frowning  Fortune,  cursed  fickle  Dame  : 

For  now  I  see,  inconstancie 

More  in  women  then  in  men  remaine. 

In  black  mourne  I,  all  feares  scorne  I, 

Loue  hath  forlorne  me,  lining  in  thrall : 

Hart  is  bleeding,  all  helpe  needing, 

O  cruell  speeding,  frauglited  with  gall. 

My  Sheepheards  pipe  can  sound  no  deale. 

My  Weathers  bell  rings  dolefull  knell. 

My  curtaile  dogge  that  wont  to  haue  plaide, 

Playes  not  at  all,  but  seemes  afraide. 
With  sighs  so  deepe,  procures  to  weepe, 
In  howling-wise,  to  see  my  dolefull  plight : 
How  sighs  resound,  through  hartlesse  ground, 
Like  a  thousand  vanquish 'd  men  in  bloody  fight. 

Cleare  Wells  spring  not,  sweet  birds  sing  not, 

Greene  plants  bring  not  foorth  their  die  : 

Heards  stand  weeping,  Flocks  all  sleeping, 

Nimphs  back  peeping  fearcfuUy. 

All  our  pleasure  knowne  to  vs  poore  Swaines, 

All  our  merry  meeting  on  the  Plaines. 

All  our  euening  sports  from  vs  are  fled, 

All  our  loue  is  lost,  for  Loue  is  dead. 
Farewell  sweete  Loue,  thy  like  nere  was. 
For  sweete  content,  the  cause  of  all  my  moane  : 
Poore  Coridon  must  Hue  alone, 
Other  helpo  for  him,  I  see  that  there  is  none. 


l?ie  Arras  of  BarnfiMd/f 
From.  tht/Harldati  MS.  TMl 


From'  the^  Ishanv  MS.   Lamport  Ectllj,Northamptorv. 


y^ncfro^ 


C\^  f<nr^ryyyj  ^iPt^^vtyt*-  ^^ptxir  /*'^^/WW<^- 
^^tf-  ^^\>offuvi^  /^/iW4,/^  ^/>^^}^tHoi> 


Morwi^raMi' fronv  Marn/i eld's  Will  cd  LijdifieJd. 


a 


VI.     FROM  A  MS.  IN  THE  POSSESSION  OF  SIR  CHARLES  H. 
ISHAM,  LAMPORT  HALL,  NORTHAMPTONSHIRE. 


Note. — The  Manuscript,  of  which  there  follows  for  the  first  time,  an  exact 
reproduction,  belongs  to  Sir  Charles  H.  Isham,  bart.,  of  Lamport  Hall,  Northampton. 
It  is  a  small  paper  book  of  eighteen  leaves  within  a  vellum  skin,  which  seems  a  leaf 
of  a  Latin  treatise.  There  is  one  leaf  blank,  and  on  the  verso  of  the  next  the  Latin 
lines  on  Tarquin  and  Lucrece  begin;  and  so  onward  on  other  ten  leaves — the  last  on 
one  side  only.  The  remainder  is  blank.  Mr.  A.  J.  Horwood  is  uncharacteristicall}^ 
inaccurate  in  his  description  of  the  MS.  as  Richard  Barnfield's  autograph  is  not  at  the 
end  of  the  MS.  but  on  page  17,  in  signing  the  verse-dedication  to  Sir  John  Spencer. 
See  our  Introduction  on  what  belongs  and  does  not  (probably)  belong  to  Barnefield. — G. 


Tarquinius  viso  Lucretiae  gestu,  haec  secum 

absens  reuoluit. 
Sic  sedit,  sic  culta  fuit :  sic  stamina  mouit : 

Neglectae  coUo  sic  iacuere  comae, 
Has  habuit  vultus,  haec  illi  verba  fuerunt : 

Hie  color,  haec  facies  :  hie  decor  oris  erat. 


2d 


THE  SHEPHERDES  CONFESSION. 


To  thy  shrifte  (greate  chaplen  of  the  familie  of  loue)  corns  y' 
passionat  shephard  of  the  westerne  playnes  to  confes  his  faultes 
&  to  offer  sacrifice  for  his  offences.  I  haue  loud,  a  foole  y'  I  was  & 
haue  obtained,  fy  blab  y*  I  tell  but  trustinge  to  thy  secresy  let 
me  open  that  thinge  y'  w'tting  wherof  is  the  greateste  contente  in 
loue.  when  in  the  blominge  of  my  youth  &  in  the  florishinge  time 
of  the  yere  I  first  tooke  vpo  me  y'  charge  of  a  shepherd,  Phillis 
my  fath's  neighbo''  Daughter  draue  likewise  her  fath"  flocke.  at 
noone  time  as  it  often  happens  a  monge  vs  shepherds  I  to  a 
void  the  heate  of  the  sonne  vsed  to  w*hdraw  my  self  to  a  foutaine 
springinge  in  he"^  sheepgate  where  beinge  my  custome  to  mcete  her 
as  on[e]  day  vnder  y"  couerlet  of  a  rocke  whre  gazing  on  y*  cristall 
streame,  in  the  watry  glas,  she  did  see  the  shadowe  of  Bellin  my 
rame  how  he  was  mouted  one  the  yeaw  to  p'forme  the  duty  of 
marra*'g.  She  asked  me  what  the  rame  did.  I  said  he  got  on  the 
yeaws  backe  to  discrie  if  on  the  the  {sic)  hedge  were  any  better  food 
(&  holy  preist  let  me  confesse  my  falte)  I  then  spake  as  I  thought 
buty*  wily  Phillis  p'cevying  my  simplicity  turnes  her  head  and  smiles 

2d  2 


204  The  Shepherdes  Confession. 

as  if  her  countenance  should  say  what  a  foole  is  this.  But  longe 
she  had  not  remaynd  thus  when  on  the  leaues  of  a  marygolde  she 
saw  a  busy  bee  gathring  hony.  Willie  saith  shee  for  so  am  I  cald, 
shall  I  be  thy  bee  &  sucke  tliy  hony  of  thy  lips?  By  the 
cleerenes  of  her  posicons  I  hauinge  my  vnderstandinge  now  erected 
replied  yee  Phillis  so  y*  like  y*  marigold  y"  wilt  only  to  my  bright 
beames  ly  open.  O  the  crafte  of  women,  how  putly  vpon  my 
wordes  did  shee  frow^ne  &  turne  a  way.  I  affeard  of  her  displeasure 
said  sweet  Phil  why  looke  yo"  from  me  ?  haue  I  offended.  Dere 
then  turne  those  eys  nay  fix  them  vpon  me  soe  shall  the  flames  thereof 
in  burninge  me  be  iust  punishers  of  mine  offence.  W""  y*  I  wold 
haue  initated  the  gras  where  on  we  lay  by  clasping  her  in  my  armes 
but  she  t'ninge  aside,  espies  my  iuory  pipe,  and  as  women  delight  in 
faire  thinges  &  yet  through  theire  natures  couetousnes  doe  rather 


The  Shepherdes  Confession.  205 

take  then  giue,  so  now  to  make  p'fit  of  her  anger,  she  told  me  by  no 
meanes  I  shoud  enter  acquaintance  againe  vnles  franckly  and  freely 
I  would  giue  her  my  white  pipe.  I  made  answer  y'  giue  it  I  could 
not  but  if  she  would  lay  the  browne  mazer  her  mother  gaue  her  to 
my  whistle  Vpon  any  wager  I  would  try  the  venter,  wee  a  greed 
&  y*  bargaine  was  who  in  runinge  should  firste  come  to  the  bush 
at  y'  bottom  of  the  hill,  he  should  haue  the  prize,  we  set  forwarde 
&  step  for  step,  stroke  for  stroke  she  kept  w*h  me  nay  was  often 
times  before  me  till  drawinge  neere  y*  marke  she  begane  to 
fainte  &  speechles  fell  downe.  I  whose  mind  was  more  on 
takingc  her  vp  then  on  winninge  the  wager  imployd  my  strength 
to  y*  thrusting  of  her  vp  againe.  This  kindnes  of  mine  in  shewinge, 
I  neglected  my  profit  in  compariso  of  her  suer  footing  did  so  deeply 
p'ce  [=  pierce]  her  as  shee  thought  it  not  enough  to  giue  me  y' 
curious  wrought  mazer  confessinge  it  to  be  mine  as  wone  by 


206  The  Shepherdes  Confession. 

maine  speedines  but  w'h  all  shee  pnted  it  me  replenished  w'h 
a  most  reviving  liquo'.  I  not  to  seeme  defectiue  in  curteous 
bounty  gaue  her  ray  pipe,  she  refusd  the  p'p'ty  [=  property]  & 
only  craued  y^  vse  of  it  to  chere  vp  her  spirites  when  she  was 
in  her  melancholy  dups.  Phi:  said  I  if  you  returne  me  my 
pipe  yet  it  is  yo's  at  commaund  and  as  for  yo"^  mazer  since  it 
is  houshold  stuf  &  y*  I  am  no  huswif  I  p"^  thee  take  it  home 
againe  but  sweet  Phi  keepe  it  neatly,     only  I  desire  you  woldst 

bringt  a  feild  adayes,  y*  when  through  heat  I  shall  grow  thirsty 
w*h  the  liquo'  thereof  I  may  alay  my  drought.     Thus  for  y*  time 

we  p'ted  &  often  since  to  y'  high  delightfuU  quenchinge  of  my 

most  furious  flames  out  of  y*  ioUy  polished  mazor  haue  I  caroused. 

But  here  is  my  misfortune,  for  this  offence  I  come  now  to  aske 

p'done,  my  fair  tressed  Ph  amonge  other  of  her   delightes  kept 

shut  vp   in    a    cage    a    bird    called    a    wagtaile.     him    she    fed 


The  Shepherdes  Confession.  207 

w%  her  owne  hand,  him  she  stroked,  him  she  plaid  w»hall.  I 
cominge  on  a  time  to  this  cage  &  pittying  to  see  y'  poore  foule  in 
captiuitie  w''''  was  free  by  the  laws  of  kind  vnpent  the  cage  dore  & 
out  flue  the  bird.  Ph  :  findinge  her  play  fellow  gone  &  y*  through 
my  falte,  O  hils  O  downs  into  what  arage  was  shee  driuen.  I  was 
the  man  y*  invied  her  content,  twas  I  y*  had  bereaud  her  of  her 
morninges  thought,  he'  repose  at  euen,  her  make  [=mate]  by  day 
and  he'  valiant  g\iid  by  night,  so  y*  transported  w*h  this  tempestuos 
passion  away  she  flinges  from  me  &  neu'  sine  cold  I  regaine  her 
fauo'.  how  often  sine  haue  I  sued  for  grace  by  crowninge  those 
lams  w*h  garlandes  w*''  I  knew  to  be  her  fauorites.  how  often  haue 
I  brought  her  a  robbin  redbreste  &  told  h'  y*  although  he  be  sulle 
[:=sullen]  &  sollitary,  yet  is  he  a  most  kind  &  faithfuU  bird,  how 
often  haue  I  p'sented  her  y*  nighting  gale  w**"  this  commend'con 
y*  he  vseth  to  sleepe  w**"  a  pricke  at  his  breste,  and  yet  she 
scornes  my  guiftes  &  w""  despitfull  thretninge  makes  answer 
to  my  passionat  intreatinges  y*  vnles  I  find  her  lady  bird  againe 


208  The  Shepherdes  Confession. 

I  must  neu'  veter  to  come  in  her  p'nc.  I  haue  so  wandred  the 
woodes  &  made  so  many  a  tree  brachles  for  y^  search  of  this 
wagtaile  as  now  beinge  not  able  to  wag  any  further,  I  am  com  vnto 
thy  shrine  sine  she  will  not  here  me,  to  confes  my  greuos  fault  & 
offer  sacrifice  for  y*  sinne.  If  my  oblacon  be  of  force  to  moue  thy 
spirit,  to  fore  tell  me  I  shall  recou'  my  La :  bird  againe  who  shalbe 
more  bounde  to  thy  holynes  then  thy  poore  shephard  Willie  ?  But 
if  my  offence  haue  not  merite[d]  such  fauo'  as  to  say  y*  truth  what 
can  he  deserue  in  y'  sight  of  loue,  who  hath  wilfully  lost  his  wagtaile 
yet  accept  this  sacrifice  w"*"  I  bringe  vnto  thee.  This  viall  w"'  I 
offer  is  a  viall  of  teares  w"*"  I  haue  wept  for  my  los  w'*"  eydew  being 
but  small  in  quantity  because  y*  glas  is  but  little  &  britel,  may  as 
a  misticale  relik  be  kept  in  thy  temple  to  shew  maidens  should  not 
greue  to  much  for  the  los  of  so  brikle  athinge  as  is  virgins  maiden 
head.  Holy  father  I  haue  cofesse[d]  all  I  attend  thine  absolution. 
Einis. 

FINIS. 


The  Isham  MS.  209 


Euery  knight  of  y*  order  of  y*  Snuffe  shall  be  well  prouided  in 
tearmes  concerninge  y*  candle,  as  hauinge  occasi5  to  bid  one  light 
y'  candle  he  shall  say  incense  y'  candle,  for  puttinge  him  in  to  y* 
candle  sticke,  aduance  him  into  his  throwne,  for  snuffing  of  y' 
candle  he  shall  say  reforme  y'  candle,  for  takeinge  away  y*  theefe, 
assiste  y'  candle,  for  fastninge  him  into  y'  socket  establish  y'  candle, 
for  stickinge  of  flowers  adorne  y'  candle ;  and  if  he  be  taken  a  way 
by  ratts  or  mice,  he  shall  say,  he  is  taken  prisoner,  if  he  be  gnawne 
he  shall  say  he  is  indented. 


2e 


210  The  Isham  MS. 


My  prime  of  youth  is  but  a  froste  of  cares. 

My  feaste  of  Joy  is  but  a  dish  of  paine. 
My  cropp  of  corne  is  but  a  feild  of  tares. 

and  all  my  good  is  but  vayne  hope  of  gayne 
The  day  is  paste  and  yet  I  saw  no  sonne 

And  now  I  Hue  and  now  my  life  is  donne 
My  tale  was  harde,  and  yet  it  was  not  told 

my  frute  is  falne,  and  yet  my  leaues  are  greene 
My  youth  is  spent  and  yet  I  am  not  old. 

I  saw  y*  world  and  yet  I  was  not  seene 
My  thread  is  cut,  and  yet  it  is  not  sponne 

And  now  I  liue  and  now  my  lief  is  donne. 
I  sought  my  death  and  found  it  in  my  wombe. 
I  lookt  for  life  and  saw  it  was  a  shade. 


The  Isham  MS.  211 


I  trod  y*  yearth  and  knewe  it  was  my  tombe 

Ajid  now  I  die,  and  now  I  was  but  made 
My  glasse  is  full  and  now  my  glasse  is  runne 
And  now  I  liue  and  now  my  lief  is  donne. 

Answer. 

Thy  prime  of  youth  is  frozen  w*^  thy  f aultes 

Thy  feaste  of  Joy  is  finisht  w"'  thy  fall. 
Thy  cropp  of  come  is  tares  a  vayling  naughtes 

Thy  good  god  knowes  thy  hope,  thy  happ  and  all. 
Short  were  thy  daies  and  shadow  was  thy  sonne 

T' obscure  thy  light  vnluckely  begunne. 
Time  trieth  truth  and  truth,  hath  treason  tript 

Thy  faith  bare  fruite,  as  thou  hadste  faithlesse  beene. 


2  E  2 


212  The  Isham  MS. 


Thine  ill  spent  youth,  thyne  after  yeares  haue  impte. 

and  god  y*  sawe  thee,  hath  p'^serud  our  Queene 
Her  thride  still  holdes  thine  perisht  thowth  vnspune. 

And  she  shall  Hue  when  trayters  lines  are  donne. 
Thou  soughtst  thy  death,  and  found  it  in  deserte 

Thou  lookst  for  lief  yet  lewdly  forcd  it  fade 
Thou  trodst  the  earth  and  now  in  earth  thou  arte 

As  men  may  wish  y"  neu'^  hadst  bin  made 
Thy  glory  and  thy  glasse  are  tymeles  runne 

And  this  (0  Tuchbourne)  hath  thy  Treason  donne. 


FINIS. 


The  Isham  MS.  213 


INCERTI  AUTHORIS. 

Wife. 

The  double  V,  is  dowble  woe 
The  I,  is  nought  but  ielosie 
The  F,  is  fawninge  flatterie 
The  E  is  nought  but  enmitie. 
Thus  V  w*'  I,  w*'  f ,  w*'  E : 
Brings  nothinge  els  but  miserie. 

Answere. 

Is  double  V  such  double  woe 
Speake  of  no  more  then  that  you  knowe. 
Tis  weale,  tis  wealth,  and  nothing  soe 
I,  Joye  is,  not  iealosie. 


214  The  Isham  MS. 


P  fauor  is,  not  flattery. 

E  is  true  loues  eternytie. 
Thus,  V,  w*"  I,  w**-  P,  w*"  E 
well  consterd  is  felicitie. 


FINIS. 


To  the  right  Wor"  Sir  John  Spenser  Knighte 

Alderman  of  the  honnorable  Citty  of 
London  and  lorde  treasurer  of  Lady  pecunia. 


llie  Isham  MS.  215 


Led  by  the  swifte  reporte  of  winged  fame, 

with  golden  trumpet  soundinge  forth  your  name, 
To  you  I  dedicate  this  merry  Muse 

And  for  my  Patron  I  your  fauor  chuse. 
She  is  a  woman  shee  muste  be  respected 

Shee  is  a  Queene  she  muste  not  be  reiected 
This  is  the  shaddowe  you  the  substance  haue 

Which  substance  no  we  this  shaddowe  seemes  to  craue. 

Richard  Barnfild. 


FINIS. 


216  The  Isham  MS. 


There  is  a  thinge  y*  much  is  vsd 
tis  cauUed  loue,  by  men  abusd : 
they  write  and  sigh  and  sweare  they  die 
when  all  is  done  they  know  they  lie, 
but  when  they  sweare  by  faith  &  troth 
ile  sweare  they  care  not  for  an  othe. 


They  firste  muste  haue  a  mistres  faire 
and  then  a  fauor  for  to  weare 
and  then  they  go  to  flattries  skoole 
and  call  her  wise  they  knowe  a  foole 
but  let  them  sweare  by  faith  and  troth 
ile  sweare  they  care  not  for  an  othe. 


It  is  a  practise  in  this  age 
to  lay  theire  creditts  vnto  gage, 
by  wit  by  vowes  by  neate  attire 
to  conquer  that  they  most  desire 

but  let  them  sweare  by  faith  and  troth 
ile  sweare  they  care  not  for  an  othe. 


FINIS. 


The  Isham  MS.  217 


EPITAPHIUM. 

Weepe  with  mee  all  yee  that  reade, 

this  little  storie, 
And  knowe  for  whome  these  t^eares  you  shedd 

deaths  selfe  is  sorrie, 
It  was  a  childe  that  so  did  thriue, 

in  grace  and  feature, 
That  heauen  and  nature  seemde  to  striue, 

whoe  owede  the  creature, 
Yeeres  he  numbred  scarce  thirteene 

when  the  destenies  tumd  cruell 
Yet  three  paste  zodiacks  he  had  bine 

our  stages  Juell 


2f 


218  The  Isham  MS. 


And  what  wee  nowe  doe  mone 

he  plaide  olde  men  soe  duelie, 
The  destinies  thought  him  to  be  one, 

he  faind  soe  truelie, 
And  in  that  error  they  consented, 

to  his  death, 
But  vewinge  him  since  they  haue  repented 

and  haue  sought  to  giue  newe  birth 
in  charmes  to  steepe  him  : 
But  beinge  soe  much  to  good  for  earth, 

heauen  vowes  to  keepe  him. 


riNis. 


The  Isham  MS.  219 


A  lustie  nutt  browne  wenche  scant  woorth  y*  naminge 

went  downe  a  staler  bearinge  a  candle  flaming : 
A  swagering  gallant  comming  her  t'encounter 

att  first  approache  couragiously  would  mount  her : 
Shee  strongly  made  resistaunce  and  did  sweare 

she  would  bume  him  by  that  candle  she  did  beare : 
Hee  blew  y*  candle  out  to  breake  hir  vowe 

she  kept  her  promise  still,  immagine  how. 


FINIS. 


220  The  Isham  MS. 


Sweete  hart  to  deale  trewly  I  loue  thee  not  much 
disdaininge  to  serue  thee  thy  kindnes  is  such ; 

For  why  thy  demeanor  commendeth  thee  not 
thy  bewty  vnpleasing  the  better  my  lott : 

Then  sweete  I  assure  you  ile  loue  you  not  more, 
refusinge  to  loue  you  which  loued  you  before. 


FINIS. 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


2o 


Notice. — It  is  thought  well  to  call  attention  to  certain  Shakesperean  parallels  and 
words  that  are  pointed  out  in  the  following  Notes  and  Illustrations,  viz. :  The  Affectionate 
Shepheard,  11.  1-2;  St.  i.-ii.;  St.  iv.  1.  3;  St.  viii.  1.  4;  St.  xi.  1.  5;  St.  xviii.  1.  2;  St. 
XXII.  1.  5;  St.  XXVIII.  1.  3;  St.  xxx.  1.  4;  St.  xxxv.  11.  5-6;  The  Second  Darfs  Lamen- 
tation, St.  I.  1.  4;  St.  III.  1.  2;  St.  xiii.  1.  3;  St.  xvi.  1.  1;  St.  xviii.  1.  3;  St.  xxiii. 
1.  4;  St.  XL.  1.  2;  The  Shepheard'' s  Content,  St.  xxxvii.  1.  3;  Cynthia,  St.  ii.  1.  3;  St. 
III.  1.  6;  Sonnet  x. ;  Cassandra,  page  108,  St.  ii.  11.  1-2;  ihid.  page  111,  St.  i.;  ibid. 
page  118,  St.  I.;  ibid,  page  125,  St.  in.  11.  1-2;  ibid,  page  127,  St.  ii.;  The  Encomion 
on  Lady  Pecunia,  page  144,  St.  in.  1,  2.  In  all  these  places  something  will  be  found 
worth-while.     G. 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


/.  The  Affectionate  Shepheard. 

Verse-dedication  to  the  Lady  Penelope  Ritch  (Rich),  the  Stella  of  Sir  PhiUp  Sidney's 
*'  Astrophel  and  Stella,"  the  brilliant  and  unfortunate  sister  of  the  equally  brilliant 
and  unfortunate  Robert  Earl  of  Essex. 

Lines  1-2,  "  Angeliqne  eyes 

Are  vestall  Candles  of  sweet  Beauties  Treasure." 
Cf.  Shakespeare:  "those  gold  candles  fixed  in  heaven's  air," 

(Sonnet  xxi.  12) 
Read  the  whole  Sonnet,  though  it  is  only  incidentally  that  it 
applies  to  Barnfield.     See  also  "  The  Second  Day's  Lamen- 
tation," St,  XXV.  1,  2,  *•  Thine  eyes  for  candles'' 
Line  5,  "  toy  "  =  trifle. 

Second  Title  (p,  8),  The  Teares,  &c.  Thomas  "Watson's  "  Teares  of  Fancie  or  Loue 
Disdained  "  (1593)  probably  suggested  this  secondary  title. 

The  Poem. 

St.  i.-n.  On  the  "  conceit "  of  the  love  of  a  "  boy  "  by  a  man,  see  the 

Epistle  to  Cynthia.  This  is  one  of  various  examples  that  go 
to  explain  the  form  of  some  of  Shakespeare's  sonnets,  on 
which  I  hope  to  write  fully  and  sstisfyingly  in  a  Life  of 
Shakespeare's  Southampton,  being  prepared.  Meantime  be 
it  noted  that  like  the  opening  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  the 
Affectionate  Shepheard  seems  founded  on  the  proverbial 
saying  referred  to  by  Shakespeare  :  "  Like  a  red  mom  that 
ever  yet  bctokcn'd  wreck  to  the  seaman,  tempest  to  the  field, 
sorrow  to  Shepherds"  (Lines  453-455).  Thus  l)Oth  indicate 
by  their  first  words  the  tragic  or  moumful  nature  of  the 
song  or  poem. 

2g2 


224  Notes  and  Illustrations. 

St.  I.  line    6,  ''7  came,  I  saw:"  reminiscence  of  Caesar's  "  Veni,  vidi,  [vici.]" 

„    II.  ,,      2,  "  trust  "  =  trussed,  i.  e.  tied. 

„   II.  „      4,  "  enamels :  "  For  rhyme's  sake  with  '  tramels,'  (line  2)  the  verb 

singular  is  made  to  agree  with  the  first  nominative  '  pearle.' 

„    III.  ,,      1,  "  alablaster  "  ==  alabaster.     So  too  the  name  of  Dr.  Alabaster 

is  spelled  contemporaneously. 

„   III.  „      3,'^blin:"    A  variant   form   of    *' Zm  "  =  to   cease.      Halliwell 

adduces  this  from  Wright's  Political  Songs  (p.  212),  "  Mon 
that  loveth  falsnesse  and  nule  never  blyne^     So  Spenser  also: 
"  For  nathemore  for  that  spectacle  bad 
Did  th'  other  two  their  cruell  vengeance  5/ira." 

(F.  Q.  b.  3,  c.  5,  22,  11.  6-7.) 

„    IV.  „      3,  "  Elues  "  =  elvish,  as  in  Shakespeare,  "  elvish  marked,"  i.  e. 

disfigured  by  fairies  ?  Or  query  =  young  cattle,  as  in  Tusser 
— used  playfully  in  either  case. 

„    IV.  „      5,  Read  '  of  her  [he]  was '  or  *  of  her  was  [he].' 

„    IV.  „      6,  "proued "  ==  tried. 

„   V.  „      1,  "  too "  =  to.     On  this  entire  stanza  it  may  be  remarked  that 

while  of  course  Lady  Rich  was  not  Guendolen,  it  is  yet 
possible  that  the  veiled  allusion  may  have  been  to  the  loves 
of  Sydney  and  Lady  Rich.  It  is  difficult  to  account  for 
the  stanza  otherwise,  as  it  has  no  bearing  on  the  story. 

„   VI.  „      1,  Punctuate  "hapned;  " 

„    VII.  „      6,  "  waft  "  =  wafted.     The  *  ed  '  or  '  t '  of  the  past  participle  of 

verbs  in  '  t '  was  not  unfrequently  elided  or  rejected. 

„  vni.  „  4,  "  amorous  "  =  full  of  love,  love-charged.  So  Shakespeare  : 
"his  amorous  spoil"  (Compl.  1.  154);  "my  amorous  tale" 
(Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  i.  1). 

„   XI.  ,,      5,  "  7nore  hard  than  Adamant  or  Steele."     So   Barnabe   Barnes  in 

Elegie  xx.  line  34  (Parthenophil  and  Parthenophe).  So 
Shakespeare  (Mids.  N.  Dream,  ii.  2): 

"  You  draw  me,  you  hard-hearted  adamant." 

„  XIV.  „  3,  "  curse  and  ban  ;"  These  synonyms  are  used  for  emphasis  of 
repetition,  which  was  a  common  contemporary  practice  in 
English.  In  general  one  word  is  a  synonym  or  paronyme  of 
the  other,  but  derived  from  a  diff"erent  language,  "  Chop  and 
change  "  is  another  example.     Ban  =  to  curse. 

„   XV.  „      2,  ^'  sugred:"  frequently.     It  is  often  used  by  Sydney. 


St. 

XV. 

»» 

XVI, 

n 

XVIII. 

>» 

XVIII. 

Notes  and  Illustrations.  225 

line    4,  see  II.  xxv. 

„      3.     The  constniction  is,  Then  he  (That  now sight,  i.e.  the 

writer's  sight)  and  I,  &c. 
„      1,  "  wrests  "  =  wrists.     Note  the  spelling. 

„      2, '' crownets  ^^   =   coronets.      So    in    Shakespeare,   e.g.   "their 
crownets  regal"  (Troilus  and  Cre&s.  prol.  line  6);  "in  his 
livery  walked  crowns  and  crownets  "  (Antony  and  Cleop.  v.  2). 
But  in  the  text  the  meaning  is  rather  *  bracelets.' 
„    XIX.         „      4,  "  play  the  kunts-vp : "   We  take  the  following  from  Halliwell : 
"  Mr.  Collier  has  printed  a  very  curious  song,  from  which  it 
appears  that  the  hunts-up  was  known  as  early  as  28  Henry 
VIII.     The  following  extract  will  show  the  nature  of  it : 
"  The  hunt  is  up,  the  hunt  is  up,  &c. 
The  Masters  of  Art  and  Doctors  of  Divinity 
Have  brought  this  name  out  of  good  unity. 
Three  noblemen  have  this  to  stay,— 
My  lord  of  Norfolk,  Lord  of  Surrey, 
And  my  Lord  of  Shrewsbury, 

The  Duke  of  Suffolk  might  have  made  England  merry." 
Ibid.  „      5,  *'coofe"  =  cot.  Cf.  St.  xxix.  line  2,  of  "The  Shepheard's  Content." 

St.  XX.  „      5,  "  well:"  =  a  welling  spring. 

„   XXI.         „      6,  "  eughes "  =  yews. 

„    XXII.        „      b,"Ladon:"  A  river  in  Arcadia. — Halliwell. 
„    XXII.       ,,      5,  "  noyse"  =  concert  of  sweet  sounds,  as  in  a  " noise  of  musicians." 
This  was  its  earlier  and  later  sense,  t.  e.  of  a  set  or  company  of 
musicians,  e.  g.  Sneak's  noise  (  Shakespeare)  or  Rupert's  noise 
meant  Sneak's  or  Rupert's  set  of  players  or  band.     Similarly 
George  Herbert,  in  106.     The  Familie :  line  1 : 
"  What  doth  this  noise  of  thoughts  within  my  heart 
As  if  they  had  a  part  ?  " 
and  again,  144.     Aaron:  line  8,  "  s  noise  of  passions  ringing 
me  for  dead"  (Herbert's  Works,  in  P.  W.  L.  and  in  The 
Aldine  Poets.) 
„   xxiii.      „      6,  "mt71-«"  =  a  white  delicate  bait;  but  used  probably  by  con- 
straint for  a  rhyme  with  "  silko ;  "  albeit  it  may  be  remembered 
that  (milk)  white  and  bright  baits  are  very  attractive  to  some 
fish.    'Abide'  (line  8)  is  another  word  used  in  stress  of  rhyme. 
„   XXIV.       „      6,  "  Syrinx : "  An  Arcadian  nymph  who,  flying  from   Pan,  wu 


226 


Notes  and  Illustrations. 


turned  into  a  reed,  which  was  afterwards  made  into  a  pipe  by 
the  pursuer. — Halliwell. 
St.  XXV.      line    3,  "  ceruices : "  The  sorb  apple,  of  which  Parkinson  reckons  four 
kinds,  one  being  the  red  chesse  apple  or  English  wild  service. 
*'  Chesse  "  was  probably  another  provincial  name  for  it. 
„    XXVI.       „      2,  "  brauer  trees  "  =  handsomer  or  finer. 
„   XXVII.      „      2-3,  "  light."      Cf.    Legend    of    Cassandra   for   like   playing   on 

"  light "  (p.  125,  St.  ii.  line  6). 
,,  XXVIII.  „  S,  "prickets:"  Bucks  of  the  second  year. — Halliwell.  Perhaps 
"  haunt "  is  a  misprint  for  "  hunt,"  although  the  former  gives  a 
good  meaning  =  follow  importunately.  As  Shakespeare,  "  I 
do  haunt  thee  in  the  battle  thus  "  (1  Henry  IV.  v.  3)  and 
"  did  haunt  you  in  the  field"  (Troilus  and  Cressida,  iv.  1). 
„   XXIX.       „      2,  ^'garden  plot."     So  Tusser  and  Herbert  frequently:  =  a  space 

separated  for  a  garden. 
„   XXX.        „      3,  "  Spyke  "  =  Lavender. — Halliwell.    But  *'  lavender  "  has  been 
already  named  in  a  previous  stanza  (line  6).     Perhaps  "  of 
another  kind"  as  in  The  Second  Day's  Lament.  St.  vii.  of  the 
"  pidgeons." 
Ibid.  „      4,  ^'■The  scarlet-dyed  carnation  bleeding  yet"  The  idea  of  a  bleeding 

flower  gives  additional  grace  to   one  of  the  most  beautiful 
passages  in  Shakespeare: 

"  Yet  mark'd  I  where  the  bolt  of  Cupid  fell; 
It  fell  upon  a  little  western  flower, 
Before  milk-white,  now  purple  with  love's  wound." 

Halliwell  [Mids.  N.  Dr.  ii.  2.] 
Ibid.  „      5,  '•  sauery"  a  still  used  vegetable. 

Ibid.  „      5,  "  mai'gerum "  =  marjoram. 

Ibid.  „      6,  '■^  good  for  the  blinde:  "  According  to  Gerard,  p.  537,  "  eiebright 

stamped  and  laid  upon  the  eies,  or  the  juice  thereof,  mixed 
with  white  wine,  and  dropped  into  the  eies,  or  the  destilled 
water,  taketh  awaie  the  darknesse  and  dimnesse  of  the  eies, 
and  cleereth  the  sight." — Halliwell. 
St.  XXXI.       „      4:, '^ flour   cald   sops-in-wine."      Pinks. — Halliwell.      Sic,   but 

"  pinks  "  have  been  already  named  in  line  1. 
Ibid.  „      5,"bootes."     The  marsh  marigold.     According  to  Gerard,  p.  671, 

this  name  for  the  plant  was  current  only  "  in  Cheshire  and 
those  parts." — Halliwell. 


Notes  and  Illustrations.  227 

St.  xxxiii.  line    2,  *^ti/ce'"  =  entice.     In  Marlowe,  frequently. 
„   XXXV.       „      5,  6,      "  I  loue  thee  for  thy  gifts,  she  for  hir  pleasure ; 
I  for  thy  Vertue,  she  for  Beauties  treasure." 
Cf.  Shakespeare's  20th  Sonnet: 

" since  she  pick'd  thee  out  for  women's  pleasure, 

Mine  be  thy  love,  and  thy  loves  use  their  treasure." 
„   XXXVII.    „      1,  An  error  here.     Transpose  and  read  "  But  I  that  lou'd."     Cf. 

St.  XXXVI.  line  5,  "  Then  She." 
Ibid.  „      4,  "their  beauties  baning :  "  Used  either  substantively  =  beauties' 

baning,  with  the  baning  of  their  beauties — and  this  might 
then  represent  banning  (metri  gr.) ;  or  =  that  now  behold 
me  baning  (or  banning)  me  with  their  beauties.  Line  5, 
"  Thy  bane"  i.  e.  thy  ban  or  curse,  (metaphorically)  my  bale, 
t.  e.  woe,  or  that  cause  my  woe. 

Th«  Second  Dayes  Lamentation  : 

St.  I.  line    4,  '^  the  christall  fmintaines:"   "Opening  on  Neptune  with  fair 

blessed  beams."     Mids.  N.  Dream,  iii.  2. — Halliwell. 
„    II.  ,,      5,  6,  Cf.  The  Isham  MS.  in  Answer  to  Tychbome  (pp.  211-12) — 

which  is  a  confirmation  of  Bamfield's  authorship  of  it. 
„    III.  „      2,  "  Receauing  cisternes,'"  ^c.      Cf.  Lucrece — Lucrece  and  maid 

weeping  "  Like  ivory  conduits  coral  cisterns  filling"  (line  1234). 
„  VI.  „      3,  Cf.  A  Remembrance  of  Some  English  Poets. 

„   VII,  „      3,  "ruff-footed"  =  hatheredlega. 

„   VIII.         „      2,  "  boult "  =  a  short  blunt-topped  arrow. 
„    IX.  „      1,  "springes  "  =  snares  :  a  dissyllable. 

Ibid.  „      if"grype:"    A  griffin. — Halliwell.    ^Sic.  but  query  *  a  vulture'? 

Cf.  Humfrey  Giff'ord's  "  Posie :  " 

**  Whei:e  scorched  harts  dispaire  and  anguish  gnaw, 
Lyke  greedy  Gripes,  that  peck  Prometheus'  maw." 

(Of  the  vncontented  estate  of  Loners.) 
Ibid.  „      5,  "  sparrow  calls  "  =  whistles  to  imitate  their  "  call,"  and  so 

entrap  the  birds. 
St.  X.  „      3,  "  sweake :  "  query  ♦  bill-hook  ? '  Both  •  prop '  and  *  sweake  '  seem 

to  refer  to  things  used  in  snaring. 
Ibid.  „      4,  "  Cyparissus  selfe:  "  a  boy  of  Cea,  a  son  of  Telephus,  beloved  of 

Apollo  and  Zcphyrus  or  Silvanus.     Having  by  misadventure 
killed  a  favourite  stag,  he  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  and 


228 


Notes  and  Illustrations. 


was  metamorphosed  into  a  cypress. — (Ovid.  Met.  x.  120,  &c.) 
Probably  this  line  was  meant  to  be  within  (  ). 
St.  X.  line    5,  "  oozels  "  =  blackbirds.     Cf.  St.  xxxix.  line  5. 

,,   XI.  ,,      1,  "  hare-pypes  "  =  snares  for  catching  hares. 

Ihid.  „      1,  "  a  muset  hole  "  ==  a  hole  through  which  a  hare  goes  to  escape 

when  hunted. 
Ibid.  „      4,  "  splent  "  =  a  flat  thin  sliver  of  wood. 

Ibid.  „      4,  "  lythe :  "  ==  soft.     The  word,  like  pliant  or  pliable,  supposes  a 

certain  amount  of  rigidity  and  resiliency. 
St.  XII.  „      6,  "Bunnell:"  a  dried  hemp-stalk.      Cumb.  (Wright).     Was  it 

infused  as  tea? 
Ibid.  „      5,  ^^ perry : "     the    fermented   juice    of   pears,    as    cyder    from 

apples. 
St.  XIII.         „      1,  read  "pleasant-noted  "  certainly. 
„    XIII.         ,,      3,  "  white  as  whale :  "  i'.  c.  as  whale-bone. 

"  This  is  the  flower  that  smiles  on  eueryone 
That  show  his  teeth  as  white  as  whales  bone." 

Love's  Labour's  Lost,  v.  2. 
„    XIV.         „      1,  "  lardarie"  =  a  larder." 
Ibid.  „      2,  "  crachnelV  =  a  well-browned  or  crisp  cake:    but  it  seems  to 

be  used  for  any  food  well  browned. 
Ibid.  „      3,  "  ill-pleasing  eye  "  =  eye  ill  or  not  willing  to  be  pleased  or 

difficult  to  please.     Or,  qu.  '  pleasing  ill '  ? 
Ibid.  „      5,  "  coate  "  =  the  simple  coat  of  a  shepheard. 

St.  XVI.         „      1,  "  a  race  of  ginger."     Cf.  Shakespeare  in  Winter's  Tale  (iv.  2), 

"  a  race  or  two  of  ginger." 
„    xviii.      „      3,  "  mend  my  misse."     Does  this  not  elucidate  Venus  and  Adonis, 

line  53  "  blames  her  miss  "  ?  (=  misbehaviour  ?). 
„   XIX.         „      2,  " girdle-steed"  i.  e.  girdle-place,  viz.  the  waist.     So  home-stead 

or  steed. 
„   XXI.         „      3,  "  odiOMs"  =  hateful  or  ofi'ensive,  as  "comparisons  are  odious." 
„   XXII.       „      3,  "  cZoyc? ;"  strange  use  of  the  word.     Cf.  Ivi.    Humfry  Gifford 
in  his  Fosie  of  Gillqflowers  (1580)  also  has  it  thus  : — 
"  Haue  not  thy   head   so  cloyd  with  worldly  cares  "  {A 
Lesson  for  all  estates:  our  edition,  p.  96). 
„    xxiii.      „      4,  "  my  louely  faire :  "  compare  A  Mids.  N.  Dream,  i.  1. 

"  O,  happy  fair  ! 

Your  eyes  are  lode-stars." — Halliwbll. 


Notes  and  Illustrations. 


229 


St.  XXVI 1!.  line 

„     XXVIII.  „ 

»»     XXIX.  „ 

„     XXXVI.  „ 

„     XL.  „ 

Ibid.  „ 

Ibid.  „ 

Ibid.  „ 


Ibid. 

St.  XLI. 


XLIII.         „ 


„     XLIV.  „ 

„     XLV.  „ 

Ibid.  „ 

„     XLVIII.  „ 

Ibid. 

Ibid.  ,, 


1,  "  light,"  i.  e.  lighted. 

6,  *'  Lest  climing  high  thou  catch  too  great  a  fait."     A  reminiscence 
of  the  well-known  anecdote  of  Elizabeth  and  Raleigh. 

4,  "  'steeme  "  =  esteem. 

6,  ^*  Fame   is   toombles:"     See   Complaint   of  Chastitie,    St.    ix. 
line  7  (p.  55). 

2,  "/c/Z  "  =  skin.     So    Shakespeare  :    "  their  fells,  you  know,  art- 

greasy."  (As  You  Like  It,  iii.  2). 

3,  "  weather  "  =  wether,  sheep. 

5,  "fautors,"  abettors. 

6,  "«^sA:"   soft,  delicate.     See  Notes  and  Queries  (4th  Series). 

The  meaning  is,  white  kine  are  *  nesh  '  or  delicate,  black  are 
strong  :  black  coney  skins  dear,  grey  ones  cheap. 
6,  "  cheap  alway  "  =  altogether  or  very  cheap. 

4,  **  inuented "  =^  discovered   (Latin),   as  the   Invention  of  the 

Cross. 

2,  "  dammasin "'   =   damson    (plum)  ;    in    line   3  "  Bullas  "  = 

bullace    (plums).      Wheaton   =    wheat-plum :    a   variety. 

(Bailey,  s.  v.) 
1,  3,  **  beaver: "  Cf.  Juvenal,  xii.  34 : 

"  imitatus,  castora,  qui  se 

Eunuchum  ipse  facit,  cupiens  evadere,  damno 
Testiculorum.  — Halliwell. 

Humfrey  Gifford  in  his  "  Posie  of  Gillowflowers"  (1580)  has 

the  same  odd  illustration.     See  our  edition  and  relative  note. 
1 ,  "  crimbling  "  =   crumbling.     To  "  crimme  "is   to  '  crumbi*' ' 

bread. 

1 ,  ^^  Diamonds : "  alluding  to   the  more  rare  and  therefore  more 

costly  dark  or  coloured  or  black  tliauKiuds.  Similarly  the 
dark  grey  pearl  (line  5)  is  the  more  sought  for:  an<l  this 
is  probably  the  meaning. 

3,  "  watchet : "  pale   azure   blue.      Cf.  a   fall    Note   in    Uarnalx^ 

Barnes  (page  224  :  our  edition). 

2,  "  dare  "  =  dace  ? 

4,  ^'tittle  they  nourish:"   i.e.  they  611  nature  and   add   tt)  hor 

varieties  but  that  is  nearly  all,  they  "  nourish  little,"  &c. 

5,  '*  loach."     Made  famous  in  our  generation  by  Blockmuro  in  his 

"  Loma  Doono  "  (c.  vii.) 

2h 


230  Notes  and  Illustrations. 

St.  Lii.       line    3,  "  white "  =  a  white  hypocritical  covering  for  "  black  Vjcc's 

Pillar :  "  so  a  "  whited  sepulchre." 
„    LV.  „      4,  "  clened  in  their  birth  "  =  in  baptism. 

„    Lvi.  „      4,  "c%'cZ;  "  Cf.  St.  XXII. 

„    Lix.  This  and  succeeding  Stanzas  recall  George  Herbert's  "  Church 

Porch."     See  our  Introduction  §  2. 
„    Lx.  „      5,  Punctuate  "  words  ;  ".      So  in  St.  lxi.  line  3,  "  dayes  ;  "  :    St. 

Lxiii.  line  1,  "thee:"  and  line  2,  "bearing:"  and  St.  lxiv. 

»  spilt : ". 
„    Lxv.         „      3,  Punctuate  "  good,"  :    The  sense  is,  Whose  bad  [will  end]  thy 

good.     Other  corrections  of  punctuation  are  easily  seen,  but 

this  and  others  noted  conceal  the  meaning. 
Ibid,  ,,      4,  "  knife."     Halliwell,  copying  a  MS.  correction,  prints  •'  swords." 

But  the  plural  '  swords '  is  scarcely  admissible.     It  is  either 

an  oversight  or  licence  of  the  Poet  himself. 
„    Lxvi.        „      2, '^  glauer"  ==  to  Matter. 
„    Lxvii.      ,,      G,  "  True  Age  is  reuerend  worship  to  thy  graue  "  =  True  old  age 

is  that  which  receives  the  reverend  worship  of  all  up  to  the 

time  of  death. 
„   Lxix.        „      1,  " /ecrre"  =  lore. 
„    Lxxii.      ,,      1,  "  ?«?ss6  "  =  amiss. 
„    Lxxiii.     „      5,  "  cow^e"  =  farewell  (French).     But  if  so,  how  did  he  manage 

to   proceed   homeward    "  by   the    Moon    shine   light "  when 

Cynthia  had  taken  '  conge  '  of  the  sable  Night  ?  " 

The  Shepheards  Content,  4'C.     It  may  be  noted  that   H.  C.  in  his  "  Piers  Plaines  " 

(1595)  commends  this  poem  highly.     See  Collier's  Bibl.  Ace.  ii.  165. 

St.  II.  line  6-7,  "wieane:"  a  play  on  the  music  term,  as  in  the  "  Encomion  " 

on  "  counter."     (Page  138,  St.  i.-ii.) 

„    IV.  „      4,  '«  dumpe.''     Dr.  William  Loe  in  his  "  Songs  of  Sion  "  (1620) 

often  uses  the  word.     See  our  edition  in  Miscellanies  of  the 
Fuller  Worthies'  Library.      Punctuate   *  dumpe ; ' :    and   in 
line  5,  *  foes,'. 
„   VII.  „      4,  ^' knaps"  =  hits.     So  Barnabe  Barnes  in  his  Divine  Centurie, 

Sonnet  lxxiii.  line  10. 

Ibid.  „      5,  "gates"  =  ways  or  paths  (Northern);  in  Scotland  still  com- 

monly used  =  sheep-walks. 

St.  \(ii.         ,,       1,  "fawn's":  error  for  'fawns'  or  'fawnes.' 


Notes  and  Illustrations. 


231 


„  XI, 
„  XII. 
„     XIII. 


St.  viii.      line    3,  "  glauer  "  =  to  flatter,  as  before. 

Ibid.  „      4,  "  deck  "  =  pack  of  cards. 

St  IX.  „      3,  Appears  to  mean,  That  they  do  not  merely  flatteringly  praise  his 

doings  but  love  him  and  his  acts  make  them  their  own 
desire.  •  Wealth '  =  weal,  as  in  Litany,  &c.  and  Cf.  I. 
xxxviii.  line  6. 

5,  '^Nothing : "  qu.  Nothing's ;  punctuate,  in  line  6,  '  varietie,'. 

6,  ^^ Factors  "  =  Agents. 
\,^^  Merchant-venturer."     There  was  a  Company  known  by  the 

name  of  "  The  Merchant  Venturers  "  without  other  desig- 
nation, and  there  were  the  Merchant-adventurers  of  Virginia 
Bermuda,  &c.,  later.     Here  the  phrase  is  general  for  any 
merchant-venturiniy  ship  in  trade. 
4,  "  stay  "  =  supports. 

"  Sydney."     See  Introduction  on  the  celebration  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney  and  Thomas  "Watson. 

6,  "  ohiect  "  =  stroke  ? 

4,  "  beares  the  bace  "  =  bass. 

5,  "  banged"  =  beaten  about  (Northern). 
5,  *'  rampiche  "  =  Partially  decayed.     A  term  generally  applied 

to  a  tree  which  begins  to  decay  at  the  top  through  age. 
— Halliwell.  [Such  an  one  as  Swift  looked  at  fore- 
bodingly.] 

2,  "  girlonds  "  =  garlands. 

2,  "  coate "  =  cot.  Cf.  The  Affectionate  Shepheard,  St.  xix. 
line  5.     Line  4,  qu.  '  a'  delete? 

5,  "  chop  or  change  "  =  barter.  Cf.  note  on  repetitions  on  A.  S. 
St.  XIV  line  3. 

7,  •'  cracknell."  Cf.  The  Second  Day's  Lamentation,  and  relative 
note,  St.  xiv.  line  2. 

See  our  Introduction,  as  before,  on  this. 
7,  "  7'ue"  i.  e.  pity  the  wrong  done  to  me  by  Ganimcde. 
1,  "7)^/c"  =  head  or  point  (as  of  an  arrow),  from  Latin  ;)i/urn. 
See  our  Bamabe  Barnes  (p.  22G). 
Ibid.  „      G,  "/  haue  more"  i. e.  I  have  more  under  that  supposition  «=  I  will 

have. 
„   xxxvii.   „      3,  *'  (Cruell,  vnkind)  and  wilt  thou  leaue  me  so."     Compare  Mids. 
N.  Dream,  ill.  2,  "why  unkindly  didst  thou  leave  me  so?" 

2h2 


»J 

XV. 

» 

»> 

XVIII. 

-XIX. 

»> 

xvni. 

line 

5> 

XXI. 

)» 

5» 

XXV. 

?5 

)» 

XXVI  I. 

>» 

„     XXVIII.  „ 

„     XXIX.  „ 

Ibid.  „ 

Ibid.  „ 

„     XXXIII. 

it     XXXV.  ,, 

„     XXXVI.  „ 


232  Notes  and  Illustrations. 

Sonnet.     Page  51,  line  4,  ^' fresh:"  See  our  Introduction  on  Mr.  Collier's  correction  of 
this  line.     =•  freshet,  or  sudden  coming  of  Winter. 

The  Complaint  of  Chastitie Michel  Drayton  (spelled  Drey  ton).     It  seems 

impossible  at  this  day  to  determine  what  is  true  and  what  false  in  the  stories 
about  Maude  or  Matilda  Fitzwalter.  Dugdale,  who  doubtless  investigated  the 
subject  thoroughly,  came  to  no  settled  conclusion,  but  simply  said,  "  It  is  by  some 
thus  7'eported,"  viz.  "  that  this  Robert  Fitzwalter  having  a  very  beautiful  daughter 
called  Maude  residing  at  Dunmow,  the  King  frequently  solicited  her  chastity,  but, 
never  prevailing,  grew  so  enraged  that  he  caused  her  to  be  privately  poisoned,  and 
that  she  was  buried  at  the  south  side  of  the  quire  at  Dunmow,  between  two  pillars 
there."  Some  accounts  say  that  she  was  poisoned  through  her  liquors,  and  others 
by  means  of  an  egg.  The  whole  or  most  of  it  seems  a  monkish  invention. 
St.  I.  line    6,  ^' tainted"  =  tmted.     So  John   Weever  :    "their  rosie-tainted 

features."     (Epigrammes,  1599  :   No.  22.) 
„    II.  ,,      5,  "  cousener  "  =  cozener. 

„    VII.  „      4,  "  ones  "  =  once. 

„   VIII.         „      7,  "In  that  pure  shrine"  &c.  =  the  shrine  of  immortal  Virginity. 
Cf.  Lines  to  his  Mistresse  before  Cynthia,  St.  ii.  line  7  :  "In 
that  clear  Temple  of  eternal  Fame." 
„    IX.  ,,      1,  "  dooTOC  "=  judgment  or  verdict. 

Ibid.  „      2,  "  still-vading  "  =  fleeting.     This  may  be  added  to  the  collec- 

tions of  examples  of  the   distinction  between  "  fading  "  and 
"  vading  "  as  elsewhere  noted  by  us. 
Ibid.  „      7,  "  toomblesse."     Cf.  The  Second  Day's  Lamentation,   St.  xxxvi. 

line  6.     In  other  words — immortal,  does  not  die.     See  our 
Introduction  on  this  noticeable  phrase. 


II.     Cynthia,  with  certaine  Sonnets  and  the  Legend  of  Cassandra. 

Epistle  Dedicatory.  William,  Earl  of  Darby.  This  was  the  sixth  Earl.  He  married, 
26th  June  1594,  Elizabeth,  eldest  daughter  of  Edward  Vere,  seventeenth  Earl  of 
Oxford,  and  had  issue.  He  died  in  1642  In  various  ways  this  Epistle  recalls 
Shakespeare's— as  elsewhere  to  be  discussed  by  us. 


Notes  and  Illustrations.  233 

Epistle  to  the  Readers.  The  "  one  name "  here  spoken  of  is  Elizabeth,  i.  e.  Queen 
Elizabeth,  who  was  flatteringly  called  Cynthia,  Vesta,  &c.,  &c.,  and  his  own  lady- 
love, who  must  have  been  an  Elizabeth.  See  close  of  Ode,  page  102 ;  also 
Cassandra,  page  115. 

7\  T.  in  commendation  of  the  Author.  Query :  Thomas  Tuke,  whose  curious  poera  of 
the  "  Breaden  God  "  is  given  in  the  Fuller  Worthies'  Library  Miscellanies 

Line  1,  "  that "  =  he,  that reares 

„    2  =  Where  did  mask  love — or,  a  change  to  the  passive  giving 

the  sense  better.  Where  was  masked  [his]  love — the  nonage 
of  his  skill.  Love  is  to  be  taken  as  his  (Barnfield's)  love  or 
affection  as  declared,  though  in  a  disguised  manner  in  the 
poem;  and  "nonage  of  his  skill  "  as  a  descriptive  epithet  of 
this  written  love  that  depreciated  The  Affectionate  Shepheard 
in  favour  of  these  later  poems,  and  also  expressed  the  under- 
age of  the  Author. 
,,    4,  ^- by-dipt  "  =bi-cleft,  two-forked,  two-top})ed  Parnassus. 

„    7,  'Uou'df/eas^d"  =  loved  of  gods,  feared  of  men. 

To  his  Mistresse. 

St.  I.  line    2,  "  president  "  =  precedent. 

„    HI.  „      S,*^thei/:"  The  reference  is  to  "curious  ears"  of  which  "each 

curious  ear  "  is  part. 

Ci/nthia. 

St.  I.  „      1.     A  slip — neuer  mortall  eye  was  beheld  for  'did  behold.' 

„    II.  „      9,  "  ro«<  "  =  a  crowd. 

Ibid.  „      8,  "for  to."     So  Marlowe  and  others,  Greene  especially  ;  Shake- 

speare rarely,  and  except  as  a  colloquialism  it  seems  speedily 
to  have  gone  out  of  date.     Consult   Schmidt's   Shakespeare 
Lexicon,  s.  v. 
St.  III.  ,,      6,  "  Wherein  Art  stroue  tcith  nature."     An   anticipation  of    Ben 

flonson's  famous  lines  on  Shakespeare's  portrait. 
„    IV.  ,,      9,  "  il-beseeming  grace.'^     Query — grace  or  beauty  ominous  of  ill 

or  evil?     Or   is  it  a  misprint  for   al [all] -beseeming 7     Or 
perhaps  the  reference  is  to  the  after-doscribod  vexeil  appearamv 
of  "  the  rout  of  heavenly  race." 
„  V.  „      4,  "  reaW  -=  reel  or  tarn  swiftly. 


234 


Notes  and  Illustrations. 


St.  VI. 

„    VIII. 
„     IX. 

Ibid. 
St.  X. 

Ibid. 
St.  XI. 


XVI. 
XVIII. 


line    9,  "  a  light  "  =  a-light  or  lighted,  i.e.  a  lamp  a-light. 
,,      8,  "  Laomedon : "  Paris. 

„      2,  "resolued"  =  dissolved.     Cf.  Cassandra,  page  106,  line  2. 
„      3,  "  Pheares  "  =  feres,  i.e.  companions. 
„      5,  "^nW/«Z"  =  trundled.     So  '■  crimbling  chalk'  for  'crumbling' 

(Affec.  Shep.  Sec.  Day's  Lam.  St.  xliv.  line  1). 
„      7,  "  Pulcherimce  "  =  for  the  fairest. 

„      5,  "  censure  "  =  judgment  or  verdict,  as  before.     '  Shee  '  is  Pallas. 
Juno  pointing  to  Pallas  says  quotli  she — "Nor  from  .... 
flie  .  .  .  .  though  ....  gole." 
„      6,  =  and  soe  doe  we  quoth  Palhas ;   [quoth]  Venus, — nor  will  I, 
&c.     A  more  intelligible  punctuation  would  be  : 
"  And  so  do  we," 

Quoth  Pallas, — Venus,  "  Nor  will  I 

obey." 

,.      4,  Appears  to  refer  'forme,'  to  Juno — fame,  to  IVIinerva — love, 
to    Venus — life,    i.e.    future    manner    of   life,   to    Paris— in 
accordance  with  the  promised  gift  of  the  winning  goddess. 
An  example  all  this  of  the  conceitful  sentences  of  the  time. 
Note  this  great  praise  of  Elizabeth. 
,,      2,  '■'  priche"  =  the  mark  aimed  at  by  archers  (a  more  difficult  one 
than  the  ordinary  butt).     Thus  as  praise  followed  a  successful 
shot  there  came  the  saying,  '  the  prick  and  praise.' 
It  will  be  observed  that  '  The  Conclusion '  differs  in  form  in 
every  way  from  the  previous  stanzas,  the   rhyming   being 
couplet,  &c. 


Sonnets  : 

Sonnet  i. 


Ibid. 


Sonnet  v. 


8,  Punctuate  '  tearmeth  '  with,     (a  period). 

"  Two  stars,^^  ^'c.  ==  These  stars  [his  eyes]  vail  their  light  when 

other  [stars]  shine  [«'.  e.  at  night].     But,  when  these  others 

vanish,  then  do  these  star-eyes  add  glory  to  the  sun. 
4,  "  Ti-ent."     It  is  pleasing  to  find   Barnfield  remembering  the 

river  of  his  native  county. 
5-8,  Cf.  Barnabe  Barnes,  as  before. 

Close.     The  conceit  seems  to  be  the  old  belief  that  one  received 

the  vigour  and  youth  of  a  young  bed-fellow,  e.  g.  the  example 

of  David  in  his  old  age. 


Notes  and  Illustrations.  235 

Sonnet  vii.  li.  11,  Cyparissue  ivas  Siluanus  ioy.     See  the  Second  Day's  Lamen- 
tation, St.  X.  line  4,  and  relative  note. 
,,      IX.     „      2,  '■^forlorne"  i.e.  [being]  forlome. 

„      X.      „  This  (and  indeed  the  whole  of  these  Sonnets)  like  "  Cynthia  ' 

likewise  illustrates  the  form  of  Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  as 
before.  At  line  12  I  remove  the  H  of  It — a  piintor's  error 
or  early  Cockneyism. 
„  XIII.  „  11,  '*  thy  imbracing  Loiter :"  Lily  is  not  the  epithet  of  thy  imbracing 
lover,  but  thy  imbracing  lover  is  the  epithet  applied  to  the 
lily,  and  his  whiteness,  lines  13,  14,  is  the  lily.  The  conceit 
is  the  amorous  war  of  the  lily  and  rose,  the  white  and  red 
in  his  cheeks. 
12,  "fAe"  =  thee. 

14,  "  vades."     See  note  and  reference  in  Complaint  of  Chastitie, 
st.  ix.  line  2.     '  Raing'sl '  =  rangest. 
This  appeared  in  England's  Helicon.     See  onward. 
11,  "/ee's"  =  fees. 

3,  Cf.  The  Affec.  Shep.  St.  xv.  lines  3-4. 
12,  This  explains  Cassandra,  line  6. 
10,  ^^ Rowland:  "  the  poetical  name  of  Drayton. 

An  Ode.     On  this  see  our  Introduction  (§2.  Bibliographical  and  Critical). 


Ibid. 

Ibid. 

Sonnet 

XV. 

>j 

XVI. 

» 

XVII 

Ibid. 

Sonnet 

XX. 

///.     Cassandra. 


"  Night-Miisiques  King."     Here  the  nightingale  is  male;  in 
the  Complaint  of  Poetrie  (page  163)  female,  and  in  •♦As 
it  fell,"  &c. 
"  soften : "  i'.  e.  his  mistress  Eliza. 

The  moan  of  Daphnis  and  ought  to  have  been  within  "  ". 
line    6,  See  Sonnet  xvii.  line  6. 

1,  Cf.  Affec.  Shep.  i.  St.  ii.  and  in. 
3,  "  impalled  "  =  paled  in  or  surrounded,  impaled- 
6,  "  sutes  "  =  takes  the  form  of 

5,  '*  Tyara ;  "  =  a  head-dress,  turban,  or  coronet,  and  is 
surely  used  in  error  here. 
Page  108,   ,,    II.     „      4,  "ZfiM."  sic.  Qu.  Biss,  i.  «.  Elizabetli  again— a  Yeiled 

compliment  to  the  Poet's  "  Eliza "  ?  albeit  not  the 


»ge  97,  line  3, 

„     98, 

») 

14. 

,,    jy. 

>> 

9-10 

„     103, 

,  St 

.  I. 

Ibid. 

M 

II. 

Ibid. 

)t 

11. 

,.     104, 

1       )t 

II. 

Ibid. 

n 

III. 

236  Notes  and  Illustrations. 

happiest.     Could  '  lass '  be  intended  ?     So  in  the  Ode 
"  My  flocks  feed  not " — 
Farewell  sweet  lass, 
Thy  like  ne'er  was. 
where  is  the  same  rhyme-word  of  '  was'. 
Page  108,    St.  ii.    line  1-2.     Cf.  Shakespeare : 

"  And  on  his  neck  her  yoking  arms  she  throws  " 
(Venus  and  Adonis,  line  592). 
So  in  parallel  vyith  "  iuory  necke  "  there  is  Shakespeare's 
"  Since  I  haue  hemmed  thee  here, 
Within  the  crescent  of  this  ivory  pale  " 

{Ibid,  lines  229-230;. 
Ibid.  „      5,  "  compiles  :  "  so  in  Lady  Pecunia,  p.  153,  St.  iii.  line  1 . 

So  in  Barnabe  Barnes,   Madr.  xxv.  line  8,  &c.  and 
Nicholas  Breton  in  his  title-pages,  &c. 
Ibid.        „    III.     „      4,  '■''  firmnesse'"  =  stedfastness. 
Page  110,    ,,    III.    ,,      3,  "  aluanj"  =  alveary,  a  bee-hive,  from  alvearium. 
Ibid.      at  end,  "  Muliere  "  {sic). 

,,     111,    ,,    I.  Cf.  Venus  and  Adonis  (\mQ  %\h,  &Q,.). 

„     112,    „    I.       „      1,  "TAew,"  query 'Him'? 
„     114,    „    III.     „      6.  ^'■Endymion's  loue,^'  i.e.  Cynthia. 
„     115,    „    III.     „      2,  "  rewoi^'ffiecZ  "  =  renowned :   the  contemporary  and  later 

spelling. 
„     116,   „    I.       „      6,  "  reiy  "  =  pity.     See  Notes  and  Illustrations  to  Barnabe 

Barnes. 
„     117,    „    I.        „      3,  "  Aare-Jram'cZ;"  imsettled,  wild,  fluttered — as  a  pursued 

hare. 
Ibid.        „    III.     „      6,  '*  Lemman "  =  paramour. 
Page  118,  St.  I.  Cf.  again  Venus  and  Adonis,  line  594,  and  context. 

Ibid.       ,,    III.    ,,      4,  See   a  similar  line   in    Lady   Pecunia,   St.   xviii.     The 

metaphor  was  a  common  one  about  this  time. 
„     124,    ,,    II.      „      6,  "  brennish  "  ==  brinish. 

„     125,    ,,    II.      „      5,  ^^ Wight. -^^  another  example  of  'wight'  as  feminine. 
Ibid,  „    III.    „      1-2  :  "  Now  silent  night  drew  on  ;  when  all  things  sleepe, 

Saue  theeues,  and  cares  " 

Cf.  Rape  of  Lucrece,  lines  125-6  : 

"  And  every  one  to  rest  himself  betakes, 

Save  thieves,  and  cares  " 

„     127,    „    II.  Cf.  Venus  and  Adonis  and  RajJe  of  Lucrece,  as  before. 


Notes  and  Illustrations.  237 


IV.  The  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia. 

To  the  Gentlemen  Readers  "  a  Subiect  both  new  (as  hauing  neuer  beene  written  vpon 
before)"  &c.     "  The  Massacre  of  Money  "  (1602)  followed  not  preceded. 
Page  136,  *'  Pessenius"  ==  Pescenius  Niger. 

„     137,  St.  II.   line    6,  "angels:  "  a  play  on  the  name  of  coins  so  called  and 

the  heavenly  creatures. 
„     138,    „    I.       „      6,  ^'counter:"  a  pun  on  being  put  in  the  'Counter'   or 
.prison  for  debt.     So  in  next  stanza  (1.  2.) 

1 ,  Punctuate  *  why,'. 
4,  6,  and  St.  ii.  lines  3,  5,  "  crosse:"  the  reference  is  to 

the  cross  of  the  coinage.     Line  8  "  liiine  "  =  cease. 
4.     See  Cassandra,  p.  118. 

2,  "  Occupation."     Cf.  Shakespeare  on  '  occupi/.^ 

4.     Punctuate  "  Since, fall,". 

4,  *'  ragd  "  =  ragged. 

4,  "  slip:"  a  pun  on  slip,  i.e.  a  base  or  forged  coui. 

6,  *'  blush  "  =  the  copper  shines  through.     Can  this  use  of 

^flourish  '  be  paralleled  ? 
4,  "  Docke : "  =  pack,  as  before. 

Elizabeth  did  see  to  the  reform  and  purification  of  the 

coinage. 
This  Stanza  shows  that  Barnfield  was  a  Protestant. 
1,  "pretended''''  =  set  forth. 

1605.  The  praise  of  James  here  is  moderate  compared 
with  the  incense  that  was  offered  him  contem- 
poraneously. 

3,  "  list : "  =  if  it  be  her  desire  or  pleasure. 
Quotation    from    1605,    St.   in.    line    5,    "  his  life "    is 

probably  a  misprint  for  "  her  life,"  for  Bounty  in  the 
Complaint  of  Poetrie  is  feminine  (pp.  159,  160,  &c.): 
moreover  the  feminine  is  more  appropriate  when 
speaking  of  Bounty  as  hoping  to  have  been  sainted 
with  the  Virgin  Queen. 

Page  151,  St.  I.       „     5,  •«  Then  "  =  than,  i.e.  Tlian matter  would. 

2  I 


„     139, 

>> 

III 

„     141, 

j> 

I. 

.,     142, 

)) 

III. 

M     144, 

„     145, 

„     146, 

jj 

1. 

Ibid. 

)> 

Ill 

„     147, 

,♦ 

1. 

Ibid. 

j> 

II. 

„     148, 

»» 

II. 

Ibid. 

» 

III. 

»ge  149, 

St. 

II. 

Ibid. 

Ibid. 

M 

III. 

Ibid. 

163, 

„  II. 

165, 

„  II. 

168, 

„  II. 

238  Notes  and  Illustrations. 

Page  151,  St.  III.    „      1,     Punctuate  with  comma  after  'more.' 

„     152,    „    II.      „     5,  "  c/?//9«  "  =  clipped — a  play  on  '  embrace  '  and  the  crime 
of  *  clipping  '  the  coinage. 

The  Complaint  of  Poetrie,  ^c.     This  may  be  compared  with  Breton's  Will  of  Wit  (in 
our  Chertsey  Worthies'  Library  edition  of  his  complete  Works) ;  where  the  argu- 
ment between  the  Poet  and  Soldier  as  to  who  most  merited  commendation  is 
well  sustained. 
Page  161,  St.  I.    line  4.     Punctuate  pen  :  or  . 
See  note  on  page  97. 

4,  "  Beate  :  "   Qu.  bait  ? 

5,  "  wight."      Another    example    of   '  wight '    as    feminine. 

See  also  pp.  153,  170. 
„     169,   „  I.  The  construction  here  is  (as  elsewhere)  The  Merchant's 

wife  that  leaues  her  Loue,  the  Tender-harted  Mother, 

whose  Sonne warre,  &c.     In  line  3  delete 

comma  and  the  first; 
„     172,    „  I.       „   4,  The  construction  is — And  yet  she  was  be  loved  of  me  least, 

i.  e.  she  loved  me  least. 

The  Combat  betweene  Conscience  and  Covetousnesse,  ^c. 

Page  179,  line     9,  "  sobe?-,  sad."     See  our  full  note  on  "sad"  in  our  edition  of 
Marvell,  vol.  i.  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 
Ibid.        „     \Q,  '^fur:"  a  play  on  "fur"   (for  ladies   dress)   and   "fur"  the 
Latin  for  thief. 
Page  182,    „       7,  "  Aurice : "  The  correct  reading  as  shown  by  scansion  must  be 
"  Auarice — but  A  |  uarice  |  in  Eue  | 
,,     183,    ,,       5.     Delete  comma  after  '  refraine '  =  refraine  from;   but  Barn- 
field's  punctuation  is  very  often  wrong. 

Ibid.        „       8,  "Woe-7nan man  woe:"  Cf.   Barnabe   Barnes,   Sonnet 

xi.  line  4,  "  No  man  but  woman  would  haue  sinned  so." 
(Parthenophil  and  Parthenophe,  p.  7.)  Breton  in  his  "Praise 
of  Vertuous  Ladies  and  Gentlewomen  "  (1599)  thus  vindi- 
cates woman :  "  Some  will  say  a  woman  is  a  wo  to  man. 
Who  put  in  that  to,  did  it  of  his  owne  authoritie,  and 
therefore  it  is  not  to  be  allowed.  For  consider  right  of  the 
word,  and  the  to  is  as  well  left  out,  as  the  worde  falsely 
written;    for  indeede  it  ought   to   be   written  wooman,   not 


Notes  and  Illustrations.  239 

woman,  for  that  she  dooth  woo  man  with  her  vertues,  who 
weddes  her  with  vanitie.  For  man  being  of  wit  sufficient  to 
consider  of  the  vertues  of  a  woman,  is  (as  it  were)  ravished 
with  the  delight  of  those  dainties,  which  do  (after  a  sort), 
draw  the  senses  of  man  to  serve  them."  (Our  edition  p.  57). 
Page  184,  „  6.  Punctuate  comma  after  yet  not  hee. 
,,     185,    „       3,  "  Zef  "  =  hinder. 

Ibid.  14,  15.     But  that   this   couplet  re-appears   in  1605  edition,  one 

would  suppose  it  had  been  an  ending  which  had  afterward.s 
been  altered. 


V.  Poems  in  divers  Humors. 


On  this  section  see  our  Introduction  §  2  for  refutation  of  Mr.  Collier's  inferences,  &c. 

Page  189,  Sonnet  I.  "  R.  L."  Probably  Richard  Linch  or  Lynch,  whose  "  Diella  : 
certaine  Sonnets"  (1596)  deserves  revival. 

Ibid.  **  Dovoland"  i.  e.  John  Dowland,  whose  "  Bookes  "  of  "  Songes 

or  Ayres  "  1597,  onward,  are  still  renowned 

Ibid.  line  14,  "  Knight  "     One  longs  to  know  who  he  was. 

Sonnet  II.  „  13,  14,  King  James:  but  Barnfield's  references  are  not  very 
happy.     Meres  quotes  from  this  sonnet  as  by  "  my  friend." 

Page  190,  "  A  Remembrance,  4'c"     See  our  Introduction  on  this  §  1. 

Ibid.  Ode.     See  our   Introduction   §  2  on  this,  and  vindication  of 

Barnfield's  authorship.  The  first  part  of  this  Ode  was  set 
to  music  as  a  Madrigal,  for  four  voices,  by  the  Earl  of 
Mornington,  father  of  the  Duke  of  Wellingfton ;  for  three 
voices  by  W.  Knyvett;  and  as  a  duet  by  Mr.  Henry  R. 
Bishop,  to  be  sung  by  Miss  Stephens  and  Miss  M.  Tree  in 
Sliakespeare's  Comedy  of  Errors.  The  words  are  printetl, 
with  slight  variations,  all  for  the  worse,  in  Clark's  "  Glees," 
«fec.  (1814,  p.  20).  See  Gentleman's  Magazine,  vol.  xvi. 
159,  160.     New  Series,  1841. 

Page  191,  „  3,^^Shee:"  Elsewhere,  as  noted,  Barufield  mokes  the  singing 
nightingale  male. 

An  Epitaph  upon  the  death  of  his  Aunt,  j-c.     See  our  Introduction  §  1  on  this  Aunt. 
Heading,  •  Vliaing :'  sic. 


240  Notes  and  Illustrations. 


From  England's  Helicon,  1600. 

Page  197,  line  12.  Note  the  grammar — inconstancie  remaine.,  Inconstancie  may 
here  be  taken  as  a  collective  of  women  and  men,  or  as 
sometimes  the  verb  may  equal  "  [doth]  remaine." 

Ibid.  „    17,  "nodeale"  =  no  part,  being  the  opposite  of  some  deale.     Cf. 

our  edition  of  George  Herbert,  s.  v. 

Page  197,  line  21,  "procures  to  weep:  "  apparently  means,  weeps  instead  of  me  in 
the  latinate  sense  of  to  care  for  or  manage  in  place  of  another. 

Ibid.  „    26,  "c^te"  =  parti-colours. 

Ml/ flocks  feed  not,  4-c.  This  poem  appeared  originally  (with  slight  variations)  in  a 
collection  of  Madrigals  by  Thomas  Weelkes,  accompanied  with  music.  It  was 
transferred  to  "  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  "  (1599)  again  with  slight  variations. 
Then  finally  it  appeared  in  «  England's  Helicon  "  (1600).  Excepting  ortho- 
graphical variations,  the  following  are  the  only  noteworthy  readings  in  the 
"  Passionate  Pilgrime  "  text : 
St.  I.  line    3,  "  Loue  is  dying,  Faithe's  defying:  " 

Ibid.  „       4,  "  Harts  nenying " 

St,  II.  „       1,  "  In  blacke  morne  I." 

„  III.         „     10,  "  For  a  sweet  content  the  cause  of  all  my  woe." 

It  is  clear  "  England's  Helicon  "  gives  the  best  text. 


FT.  From  the  Isham  MS. 


See  our  Introduction  §  2  on  this  section. — 
Page  206,  line  1,  "  pnted"  =  presented. 

„     209,     „    9,  "  indented :  "  an  heraldic  phrase. 


A.  B.  G. 


PINIS. 


^t^ 


mrm 


62 


1 


i 


Iht 


liMmt 


m 


'o^         .~.V 


mimk 


J 


"i^