Skip to main content

Full text of "Coryat's crudities : hastily gobled up in five moneths travells in France, Savoy, Italy, Rhetia commonly called the Grisons country, Helvetia alias Switzerland, some parts of high Germany and the Netherlands : newly digested in the hungry aire of Odcombe in the county of Somerset, and now dispersed to the nourishment of the travelling members of this kingdome v.1"

See other formats






R N 

Coryat s Crudities 

In Two Volumes 

Volume I 












One thousand copies of this book have been printed 

for sale in Great Britain and Ireland, of which one 

hundred copies are on hand-made paper 

Coryat s Crudities 

Hastily gobled up in five Moneths travells in 
France, Savoy, Italy, Rhetia commonly called 
the Orisons country, Helvetia alias Switzerland, 
some parts of high Germany and the Nether 
lands ; Newly digested in the hungry aire of 
Odcombe in the County of Somerset, and now 
dispersed to the nourishment of the travelling 
Members of this Kingdome 




James MacLehose and Sons 

Publishers to the University 


REF. & REN. 



Publishers Note, . . . . . . i* 

An Explication of the Emblemes of the Frontis- 

pice, ...... xv 

The Epistle Dedicatorie to Henry Prince of 

Wales, ...... i 

The Epistle to the Reader, 

A Character of the Authour, . .16 

A Characterisme Acrostick, .... 19 

An Introduction to the Ensuing Verses, . . 20 

Panegyricke Verses upon the Author and his 

Booke, ....... 22 

An Oration made by Hermannus Kirchnerus in 

Praise of Travel, . . . . .122 

Mr. Laurence Whitaker s Elogie of the Booke, . 149 

Observations of France, . . . .152 

Observations of Amiens, . . . . .161 

Observations of Paris, . . . . .170 



Observations of Fountaine Beleau, . . . 187 

Observations of the City of Nevers called in 

Latin Niverna, . . . . .198 

Observations of Lyons, .... 203 

Observations of Savoy, . . . . .215 

Observations of Italy, ..... 227 

Observations of Turin, ..... 229 

Observations of Milan, ..... 240 

Observations of Cremona, ..... 257 

Observations of Mantua, ..... 262 

Observations of Padua, . . . . .270 

The Number of Miles betwixt Odcombe in Somer 
setshire and Venice, . . . .301 

Observations of the Most Glorious, Peerlesse and 

Mayden Citie of Venice, . . .301 




Facsimile of the Engraved Title Page, 1 6 1 1 , . x 

Facsimile of the Printed Title Page, 1611,. . \x 

Crest of Henry Prince of Wales, ... 8 

Coryat s Shoes, in which he had walked from 

Venice to London, . . . . .113 

II Signior Tomaso Odcombiano. Margarita Emil- 

iana bella Cortesana di Venetia, . . 408 



THOMAS CORYAT, son of the Rev. George Coryat, Rector 
of Odcombe, was born in the Parsonage house at 
Odcombe in Somersetshire about 1577. In the begin 
ning of the year 1596 he became a commoner of 
Gloucester Hall, Oxford, where continuing about three 
years he attained, by the help of a great memory, to 
some competency in logic, but more by far in the 
Greek tongue, and in humane learning. Afterwards he 
was taken home for a time, then went to London and 
was received into the family of Henry, Prince of 
Wales. 1 On the I4th May 1608 he sailed from Dover 
on the journey of which an account is given in the 
4 Crudities. On his return home he proposed to publish 
his book of travels, but finding it difficult to induce any 
bookseller to undertake its publication he applied to 
many of the eminent men of his day to write pane- 
gyricke verses upon the Authour and his booke. By 
the help of Prince Henry, who seems to have had a 
certain liking for him, Coryat s Crudities was published 
in 1 6 1 1 with the Panegyricke Verses prefixed as an 
Introduction ; the volume being printed by W. S. 
(William Stansby). Two appendixes, Coryats Crambe, 

1 Anthony a Wood^thenae Oxonienses, Ed. Bliss, 181 5, Vol. II. Col. 208. 



or his Colwort twise sodden and now served in with 
other Macaronicke dishes as the second course to his 
Crudities, printed by William Stansby, and The Od- 
combian Banquet dished foorth by T. the Coriat and 
served in by a number of Noble Wits in prayse of his 
Crudities and Crambe too. Imprinted for T. Thorp, 
also appeared in 1 6 1 1 . 

In 1612 Coryat set out again, this time for the East, 
but before doing so he went to Odcombe and hung 
up in the parish church the shoes in which he had 
walked from Venice. These shoes, of which an illus 
tration is given on page 113, were still hanging in 
Odcombe Church at the beginning of the eighteenth 
century. Starting on his Eastern journey on the 2Oth 
October 1612 he sailed to Zante, where he arrived on 
the i jth January 1613 ; he then proceeded to Troy and 
on to Constantinople. From Constantinople he appears 
to have proceeded to Smyrna, from Smyrna to Alexandria 
and thence to Cairo. Returning to Alexandria he sailed 
to Joppa and from there went to Jerusalem. From 
Jerusalem he went to Sidon and sailed to Scanderoon 
or Alexandretta ; he then went to Aleppo and joined 
a caravan for Persia, passing through Ecbatana, Kazvin, 
and Ispahan where he remained two months. From 
Ispahan he journeyed with a caravan to Lahore, meeting 
on the frontier of India Sir Robert Sherley, who was 
travelling from f the court of the Mogul to the King 
of Persia s court. From Lahore Coryat proceeded to 
Agra and thence to Ajmere, where he remained for 
eight months. At Ajmere he learned Persian, Turkish, 
and Arabian, and became so proficient in the Indostan 
or more vulgar Language, that, as the Rev. Edward 


Terry 1 tells us, there was a woman, a Landress, belong 
ing to my Lord Embassador s house, who had such a 
freedome and liberty of speech that she would sometimes 
scould, brawl, and rail from the Sun-rising to Sun-set ; 
one day he undertook her in her own language, and 
by eight of the clock in the morning so silenced her, 
that she had not one word more to speak. During 
his stay at Ajmere he sent home a number of letters, 
which were published in 1616 with the title Thomas 
Coriate Traveller for the English Wits : Greeting. 
From the Court of the Great Mogul, Resident at the 
Towne of Asmere in Easterne India. From Ajmere 
he went to Surat, but there being over-kindly used 
by some of the English who gave him Sack, which 
they had brought from England, he calling for it as 
soon as he first heard of it and crying, " Sack, 
Sack, Is there such thing as Sack ? I pray give me 
some Sack " and drinking of it, though, I conceive, 
moderately (for he was a very temperate man) it in 
creased his Flux which he had then upon him ; and 
this caused him within a few daies after his very 
tedious and troublesome Travels (for he went most on 
foot) at this place to come to his Journies end ; for 
here he overtook Death in the Month of December, 
1617. and was buried (as aforesaid) under a little 
Monument, like one of those are usually made in our 
Church yards. 2 

It is greatly to be regretted that no complete journal 

1 A Voyage to East India observed by Edward Terry (then chaplain to 
the Right Honorable Sr Thomas Row Knight, Lord Ambassadour to the 
Great Mogol). London. 1655. 



of Coryat s Eastern travels is in existence. From his 
Letters from Ajmere and from the few fragments of 
his Journal printed in Purchas His Pilgrimes it is 
clear that had Coryat lived to publish his complete 
journal it would have made a worthy sequel to the 

This edition of the Crudities is a reprint of the 
original edition of 1 6 1 1 , but side-notes have been in 
serted, and references to the pages of the original text 
have been given in the margin. The foot-notes are 
Coryat s. The letters i, j, u and v have been altered 
to conform to modern usage, and ordinary printers errors, 
both of spelling and punctuation, have been corrected. 
Coryat s original index was much condensed, and it has 
been replaced by a fuller one in this Edition. 

February, 1905. 



Coryat s Crudities 

Containing his Observations of France, Amiens, 

Paris, Fountaine Beleau, Nevers, Lyons, 

Savoy, Italy, Turin, Milan, Cremona, 

Mantua, Padua and the Most 

Glorious, Peerlesse and 

Mayden Citie 

of Venice 



Opening and Drawing Distiches, 


as mollifying Cataplasmes to the Tumors, Car- 
nosities, or difficult Pimples, full of matter, 
appearing in the Authors front, conflated of 
Stiptike and Glutinous Vapours arising out of 
the Crudities : The heads whereof are par 
ticularly pricked and pointed out by 
letters for the Readers better 

First, th Author here glutteth Sea, Haddocke and 
With spuing, and after the world with his writing. 


Yee Haddocks twixt Dover and Calais,* speake Greeke; 
For Tom fild your mawes with it in Whitsun J weeke. 



I Hough our Author for s Venerie felt no whips smart, 
Yet see here he rides in a Picardie Cart. 

* Imperat. J Viz. anno 1608, when he beganne to travel]. 




THis Horse pictur d showes, that out *Tatter-de- 
Did ride the French Hackneyes, and lye with th Italian. 


Our Author in France rode on Horse without stirrop, 
And in Italic bathed himselfe in their syrrop. 


His love to strange horses he sorteth out prettilie, 
He rides them in France, and lies with them in Italic. 


HE hath crost 1 Sea and 2 Land, now the cloudes 
(saith the text) 
Of th Ayre 3 he is climbing ; ware Tom, 4 Fire is next. 


HEre to his Land-Friggat he s ferried by Charon, 
He bords her ; a service a hot and a rare one. 


Here to a Tutch-hole he s row d by his Gondelier, 
That fires his Linstocke, and empties his Bandolier. 


HEre his Friggat shootes egs at him empty of 
Because shee had made his purse empty of Chicquins. 


Here shee pelts him with egges, he saith, of Rose water, 
But trust him not Reader, twas some other matter. 

* A word that in the Helvetian tongue signifieth a ragged traveller. 
1234 The f our e Elements. 

J That is, the beauty of her countenance, and sweet smatches of 
her lips did enflame his tongue with a divine & fierye enthusiasme, 
and emptyed the Bandolier of his conceipts, & inventions, for that 




IN vaine here doth Coryate pipe and dispute, 
His wench was, Jewes will not be caught with his 


Thy Cortizan clipt thee, ware Tom, I advise thee, 
And flie from the Jewes, lest they circumcise thee. 



E longs for sweet grapes, but going to steale em, 
He findeth soure graspes and gripes from a Dutch 


Here is the combat our Author may glorie at, 
With Halberd the Boore lays on, and with Greeke 


Ere is his Trophee victoriously dight 
With case, shoes, and stockings, and lice put to 


See here his poore case, his shoes clowted with cunning, 
His stockings strong-smelling, and lice away running. 


See our louse-bitten Travellers ragged device, 
Of case, shoes, and stockings, and Canniball lice. 


This Gibbet the false case and hose doth requite, 
That harbour d the Vermine that their Maister did bite. 

*A Rascall in Dutch 




IHis should be his picture, tis rather his Embleme, 
For by (K) it notes him, though t little J re 
semble him. 


This picture unlike him, showes hee s not come home as 
He went, but chang d, and turn d travelling Thomas. 


This picture unlike him, showes hee s not himselfe, 
But chang d since he proved a Travelling Elfe. 


Know Reader, the notes and contents of this booke, 
Are not to be ghessed by th Authors carv d looke. 

THese be the three countries with their Cornu-copia, 
That make him as famous, as Moore his Utopia. 


Here France gives him scabs, Venice a hot Sunne, 
And Germanic spewes on him out of her Tunne. 


THe horse he bestrid till he mounted his chaire 
Doth kindly bestride him at Bergamo faire. 


He courted a wench, but pennance for his game 6 
He doth by lying with horses at Bergamo. 

As being the first letter of his name in Greeke. 

J But you differ in opinion (Mr. Laurence) from all my other 
friendes that have compared together the counterfaited and the 
living figure. 




The Italian horse more then French his love feeles, 
For he rode on the one, and lay at th others heeles. 



Ost Politicke Thomas, now thou art no * fol I see, 
For wanting no money, thou beggest in Policie. 


Here follow certaine other Verses, as Charmes 
to unlocke the mystery of the Crudities. 


Ere, like Arion, our Coryate doth draw 
All sorts of Fish with Musicke of his maw. 


Ere, not up Holdborne, but downe a steepe hill, 
Hee s carried twixt Montrell and Abbeville. 


Horse here is sadled, but no Tom him to backe, 
It should rather have bene Tom that a horse did 


HEre up the Alpes (not so plaine as to Dunstable) 
Hee s carried like a Cripple, from Constable to 


APunke here pelts him with egs. How so ? 
For he did but kisse her, and so let her go. 


Eligiously here he bids, row from the stewes, 
He will expiate this sinne with converting the Jewes. 

* The French word for a Foole. 




Nd there, while he gives the zealous Bravado, 
A Rabbin confutes him with the Bastinado. 


Ere, by a Boore too, hee s like to be beaten, 
For Grapes he had gather d before they were eaten. 


Ld Hat here, torne Hose, with Shoes full of gravell, 
And louse-dropping Case, are the Armes of his 


HEre, finer then comming from his Punke you him 
*F. shews what he was, K. what he will bee. 





Ere France, and Italy both to him shed 
Their homes, and Germany pukes on his head. 


Nd here he disdain d not, in a forraine land, 
To lie at Livory, while the Horses did stand. 


Ut here, neither trusting his hands, nor his legs, 
Beeing in feare to be rob d, he most learnedly begs. 


*Not meaning by F. and K. as the vulgar may peevishly and wit 
tingly mistake, but that he was then comming from his Courtesan a 
Freshman, and now having seen their fashions, and written a description 
of them, he will shortly be reputed a knowing, proper, and well traveld 
scholer, as by his starch d beard and printed ruffe may be as properly 





This B o o K E following (beficles the fore- 
faid C a v D i T i E s) no lefle flowing in the 

body of the B o o K E , then the CRVDITIES 
tbtwfelucs 3 two 0/Rhetorickeand one 

Of P O H S I E. 

That is co fay, a mod elegant Oration, firft written 
in the Latine tongue byHERMANsvs KIRCUNERVS, a 

Ciuill Lawyer , Oratour^ Cjefare&n Poet , andprofetfor of Eh- 
qtience and Antiquities in the famous Vniucrfitie 

of M A R p v R G in the Langrauiat of Hafsia , in 
praife of Trauell in general). 

Now diftilledintoEnglifh Spirit through the ODCOMBIAN 

Limbecke. This precedetb the C R VD 1 T 1 E S. Another 4fo com- 

pofed by the Author of the former, in praife ofTraucll of Germanic 

in particular, fttbltnted and brought ottsr the Helm fin 

the Stillitorie of the-faid Trauclling TH o M A s: 

This about the Center or NaufKofthc 


Then in the Poftcrne of them looke , and thoit fhalt find the 

Poftbume Poems of the Authors Father , comming at neerc 

Kinfcmen to the worke,being next of blood to the 

Booke , and yonger brothers to the 

Author himielfe. 


Trintedby W. S. dnno Domini 

16 n. 


Henry, Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall 

and Rothsay, Earle of Chester, Knight 

of the most noble Order of the 

Garter, &c. 

Hough I am very confidently perswaded The Epistle 
(most gracious Prince the Orient Pearle 
of the Christian world) that I shall expose 
my selfe to the severe censure at the least, 
if not the scandalous calumniations of 
divers carping criticks, for presuming to 
dedicate to your Highnesse the greene 
fruits of my short travels, especially since I am no schollar, 
but a man altogether unworthy to be dignified with so 
laudable a title : yet there are some few reasons that have 
emboldned and encouraged me to present these my silly 
Observations unto your Highnesse, whereof these two 
are the chiefest. First, that if your Highnesse will deigne 
to protect them with your favourable and gracious 
Patronage, as it were with the seven-fold shield of Ajax, 
or the segis of Pallas (a favour that I most humbly crave 
at your Highnesse hands) against the envious cavillations 
of such criticall Momi as are wont to traduce the labours 
of other men ; it may perhaps yeeld some little encourage 
ment to many noble and generose yong Gallants that 
follow your Highnesse Court, and give attendance upon 
your Peerlesse person, to travell into forraine countries, 
and inrich themselves partly with the observations, and 
partly with the languages of outlandish regions, the 
principall meanes (in my poore opinion) to grace and 
c.c. i A 


The Epistle adorne those courtly Gentlemen, whose noble parentage, 
Deduatone. m g enuous education, and vertuous conversation have 
made worthy to be admitted into your Highnesse Court : 
seeing thereby they will be made fit to doe your Highnesse 
and their Country the better service when opportunity 
shall require. For the description of many beautifull 
Cities, magnificent Palaces, and other memorable matters 
that I have observed in my travels, may infuse (I hope) 
a desire to them to travel into transmarine nations, and 
to garnish their understanding with the experience of 
other countries. Secondly, because amongst other things 
that I exhibite in this my Journall to your Princelie view, 
that most glorious, renowned, and Virgin Citie of Venice, 
the Queene of the Christian world, that Diamond set in 
the ring of the Adriatique gulfe, and the most resplendent 
mirrour of Europe, I have more particularly described, 
then it hath been ever done before in our English tongue. 
The description of which famous Citie (were it done with 
such a curious and elegant stile as it doth deserve) I dare 
boldly say is a subject worthy for the greatest Monarch 
in the world to reade over. But for mine owne part I am 
no schollar (as I have already said) and therefore unable 
to delineate & paint out the singular beauty thereof in 
her genuine colours with such an exquisite pensill as an 
eloquent historiographer ought to doe. Notwithstanding 
those Observations that I gathered thereof during the time 
of my aboade there (which was about the space of sixe 
weekes) I have written though not as eloquently as a 
learned traveller would have done, yet as faithfully and 
truly as any man whatsoever ; Being often holpen both 
by the discourse of learned men, and certaine Latin 
bookes that I found in Italic, wherehence (I confesse) I 
derived many principall notes, with which I have beautified 
the description of many other Italian Cities. 

But me thinks I seeme to heare some Momus objecting 
unto me now I speake thus of Venice, that this is Crambe 
bis cocta, as it is in the proverbe. For we have the 
historic of Venice (he will perhaps say) already translated 


out of Italian into English. Therefore what neede we The Epistle 
more descriptions of that Citie? Truly I confesse that 
Cardinall Contarens Commonwealth of Venice hath beene 
so elegantly translated into English, that any judicious 
Reader may by the reading thereof much instruct himselfe 
with the forme of the Venetian governement. But that 
booke reporteth not halfe so many remarkable matters as 
mine doth (absit dicto invidia) of the antiquities and 
monuments of that famous Citie, together with the 
description of Palaces, Churches, the Piazza of S. Marke, 
which is one of the most beautifull places (I beleeve) that 
ever was built in any Citie whatsoever of the whole 
world, and other memorable things of no meane import 
ance. Howbeit were this true that the historie of Venice 
hath been more then once divulged in our mother tongue, 
yet I hope your Highnesse will not miscensure me for 
communicating to my country new notes of this noble 
City, with a corollarie of Observations that (I am sure) 
were never before printed in England, seeing (according 
to the old speech) ^/? KCU Tpis TO. KaXa. 

Howsoever, if the curious Reader that is wholy 
addicted unto novelties, will not so well accept my notes 
of Venice, for that the historie of the Venetian common 
wealth hath beene already printed in our language : never- 
thelesse I conceive some hope that the descriptions of other 
Cities which I survayed in divers countries in my travels, 
as in France, Italic, Switzerland, and some parts of high 
Germanic, will yeeld more matter of newes unto him, 
because none of these Cities have beene described in our 
language that I could ever heare of. And whereas I 
have written more copiously of the Italian, Helveticall, 
and German Cities, then of the French, that is to be 
attributed partly to my Industrie (whatsoever the same 
was) which I used more in Italic, Switzerland, and 
Germany by many degrees then in France ; being often 
disswaded by some of my fellow travellers from gathering 
any Observations at all till I came into Italic : and partly 
to the helpes of bookes which I found in Italic and 


The Epistle Germanic, wherewith I have something inlarged the 
Dedicating, descriptions of those Cities. For seeing I made very 
short aboade in divers faire Italian Cities, as Cremona, 
Mantua, &c. (where I desired to have observed al the 
principal! matters thereof) and thereby was barred of 
opportunity to note such things at large as were most 
memorable ; I held it expedient to borrow some few 
notes from a certaine Latin booke printed in Italie, rather 
then to write so briefly of the same, as the shortnesse of 
time would not otherwise permit me. The like I did 
in Germanic, being sometimes beholding to Munster 
for some speciall matter which neither by my owne 
Observations, nor by the discourse of learned men I 
could attaine unto, especially about the institution of the 
Bishopricks of certaine Cities through the which I 

I meant to have digressed into the praise of the 
excellency of travell into forraine countries, the more to 
stirre up yong Gentlemen and every good spirit that 
favours learning, to so worthy an exercise ; had I not 
prevented my selfe by translating those two elegant 
Orations out of Latin into English, that were made by 
that learned German Hermannus Kirchnerus of Marpurg ; 
which I have inserted into my Booke ; the one in com 
mendation of travell in generall, the other of Germanie 
in particular ; which are seasoned with such savourie 
Attick conceits, and adorned with those flosculi & pig- 
menta eloquentiae, that I may fitly apply unto them that 
prety Distiche of the Poet Lucilius : 

Quam lepide lexeis compostae, ut tesserulae, omnes 
Arte pavimento, atque emblemate vermiculato. 

And surely for my owne part I will say I never read any 
orations in all my life composed with a more terse and 
polished stile (Tullies only excepted) though I have in 
my daies perused some part of the Orations of learned 
Melancthon, the Phoenix of Germanie, Antonie Muretus, 
my owne Rhetoricall countryman Robert Turner, &c. 



Therefore since these two Orations do yeeld stronger The Epistle 

motives, and more forceable arguments to animate the 

learned to travel! into outlandish regions, then my poore 

invention can affoord : I have thought fit to turne them 

into our mother tongue, according to my simple skill, 

and to present them also to your Highnesse, together with 

the Observations of my travels ; both because I hope 

they will be very delectable to every Reader that loveth 

to heare of forraine affaires, and also for that they agree 

with the argument of my booke. 

As for these my Observations in forraine countries, I 
was so farre from presuming to dedicate them to your 
Highnesse before the consummation of my future travels, 
that I resolved rather to conceale them from the world, 
and to bury them for a time in oblivion, if the importunity 
of some of my deare friends had not prevailed with me 
for divulging the same : whereof one amongst the rest, 
namely that right worshipfull Gentleman my most sincere 
and entire friend, M. Lionel Cranfield was the originall 
and principall animator of me ; and another of my 
friends, even learned M. Laurence Whitaker, that elegant 
Linguist and worthy traveller, now Secretarie to my 
illustrious Mecoenas Sir Edward Philips, Master of 
the Rolles, hath often urged unto me that proverbiall 
verse : 

IloXXa /AeTa^u Tre Xet KvXi/co? /cat ^etXeo9 axpov* 

By which he signified that many sinister accidents might 
happen unto me betwixt the time of my next going out 
of England, and my arrivall againe in my country ; and 
so consequently my friends and country might be deprived 
of the fruits of my past travels, and of those to come : by 
these and such like perswasions of my friends I was 
animated to publish the Observations of my travels much 
sooner then I thought to have done, and to addresse them 
to your excellent Highnesse ; not that I hold them 
worthy to undergoe your Highnesse censure, seeing many 

* Many things doe often slip twixt cup and lip. 



The Epistle o f them deserve rather ad salsamantarios amandari, as 
Dedtcatorte. i earnec j Adrian Turnebus* writeth of his Adversaria, and 
(as Horace saith :) 

Deferri in vicum vendentem thus & odores, 
Et piper, & quicquid chartis amicitur ineptis.H 

But because they shall be an introduction (if your High- 
nesse will vouchsafe to Patronize them with your Princely 
protection) to farre more memorable matters that I 
determine by God s gracious indulgence to observe 
hereafter in most of the famous Cities and Princes Courts 
of Germanic and Italic : as also in Constantinople, with 
divers ancient Cities of Greece, and the holy Land, as 
Jerusalem, Jericho, Samaria, and other sacred places 
mentioned in the Scriptures, and celebrated for the miracles 
done therein by our blessed Saviour. Of which Cities 
(if God shall grant me a prosperous issue to my designe- 
ments) I hope to write after a more particular manner 
then any of our English travellers have done before me. 
Wherefore most humbly beseeching your Highnesse to 
pardon my presumption, I recommend your Highnesse 
to the mercifull clientele of him whose throne is the 
heaven, whose foote-stoole is the earth. 

By him 

That travelleth no lesse in all humble and 
dutifull observance to your Highnesse 
then he did to Venice and the 
parts above mentioned, 

Your Highnesse poore Observer, 

Peregrine of Odcombe. 

* In Epistola ad Hen. Memium. \\Horat. z lib. Epist. 

The Epistle to the Reader. 

Aving lately considered in my serious The Epistle to 
meditations (candid Reader) the un- thc 
measurable abundance of bookes of all 
artes, sciences, and arguments whatsoever 
that are printed in this learned age where 
in we now breathe, in so much that me 
thinks we want rather readers for bookes 

than bookes for readers ; my thoughts beganne to be 
much distracted like those of ^neas, of whom Virgil 
speaketh thus : 

Atque anirnum, nunc hue celerem, nunc dividit illuc, 
In partesque rapit varias, perque omnia versat.* 

Yea I was plunged in an Ocean of doubts, whether it were 
best that my Observations gathered in forraine countries 
should be continually confined within the bounds of my 
poore studie, and so at length squalere situ, & cum tineis 
ac blattis rixari ; or be presented to the view of my 
country, being (I confesse) by so much the more doubtfull 
to evulge the same, by how much the more I am no 
schollar, but only a superficiall smatterer in learning, and 
therefore most unwilling to incurre the censure of such 
severe Aristarches as are wont o/3eA)e<i/ and with their 
censorious rods doe use to chastise the lucubrations of 
most kinde of writers. But at length post varias cogita- 
tionum fluctuationes, by the counsell of certaine of my 
deare friendes I put on a constant resolution, and 
determined to expose the abortive fruits of my travels 


The Epistle to to the sight of the world (after they had for the space of 
the Reader. 

two w h o i e y eares l ur ked in a kinde of Cimmerian 
darkenesse) which if they cannot endure, but will be 
dazeled with the least glimpse thereof, I wish the same 
of them that elegant Angelus Politianus * did of his 
Latin translation of Homer, even that I might aut 
Thetidi aut Veneris largiri marito. 

Since then I have thus farre ventured with them, I 
will take occasion to speake a little of the thing which 
begat and produced these my observations, even of travell 
into forraine countries, whereby I may the better encourage 
Gentlemen and lovers of travell to undertake journeys 
beyond the seas. Of all the pleasures in the world travell 
is (in my opinion) the sweetest and most delightfull. For 
what can be more pleasant then to see passing variety of 
beautifull Cities, Kings and Princes Courts, gorgeous 
Palaces, impregnable Castles and Fortresses, Towers 
piercing in a manner up to the cloudes, fertill territories 
replenished with a very Cornucopia of all manner of 
commodities as it were with the home of Amalthea, 
tending both to pleasure and profit, that the heart of man 
can wish for : flourishing Universities (whereof only 
Germany yeeldeth no lesse than three and twenty) 
furnished with store of learned men of all faculties, by 
whose conversation a learned traveller may much infbrme 
and augment his knowledge. What a singular and 
incomparable comfort is it to conferre with those learned 
men in forraine Universities and noble Cities, whose 
excellent workes we reade in our private studies at home, 
as with Isaac Casaubonus the pearle of Paris : Paulus 
^Emylius in Padua : Rodolphus Hospinianus, Gasper 
Waserus, Henricus Bullingerus in Zurich : Amandus 
Polanus, Joannes Jacobus Gryneus in Basil : Janus 
Gruterus, David Pareus, Dionysius Gothofredus at 
Heidelberg : Joannes Piscator at Herborne : Bonaventura 
Vulcanius at Leyden ? Most of whom it was my good 
hap not only to see in my travels, but also to my 

* In Epistola ad Jacobum Cardinalem Papiensem. 



unspeakable solace to enjoy very copious and fruitfull The Epistle to 

discourse with them. Againe, what a contentment is it er 

to a holy and religious Christian to visit the monuments 

and tombes of some of the ancient Saints and Fathers of 

the primitive Church ; as of S. Augustine in Pavie, S. 

Ambrose in Milan ? &c. Also the epenria and ruines of 

the houses wherein those famous men lived, as Cicero, 

Varro, Virgil, Livie, &c. that are to this day shewed in 

sundry places of Italic, strike no small impression in the 

heart of an observative traveller. Likewise the places 

wherein divers famous battels have beene fought, so much 

celebrated partly by the ancient Roman historiographers, 

and partly by other neotericke authors (many of which I 

exactly observed in my short voyage) when they are 

survayed by a curious traveller, doe seeme to present to the 

eyes of his mind a certaine Idea of the bloudy skirmishes 

themselves. Yea such is the exuberancie and superfluity 

of these exoticke pleasures, that for my owne part I will 

most truly affirme, I reaped more entire and sweet comfort 

in five moneths travels of those seven countries mentioned 

in the front of my booke, then I did all the dayes of my 

life before in England, which contayned two and thirty 

yeares. Moreover the knowledge of forraine languages 

(which the shortnesse of time did not affoord me) acquired 

by industrious travell, yeeldeth an ornament beyond all 

comparison the most precious and excellent that can be 

incident to a Gentleman. For if the learning of two 

languages be commended by Ovid, who said : 

Nee levis ingenuas pectus coluisse per artes 
Cura sit, & linguas edidicisse duas. 

Much more praise doth he deserve that by travelling in 
France, Italic, Spaine, Alemannie, and the Netherlands, 
doth learne the five languages of those noble countries, 
which being added to his owne mother tongue and the 
Latin, do answere the number of the seven liberall sciences. 
These certainly, and more, have been learned by famous 
travellers, as by Gulielmus Postellus a Frenchman of 



The Epistle to excellent learning, who spake twelve languages. Julius 
the Reader. XS3Lf Scaliger that incomparable schollar, nine. Joseph 
Scaliger that died not long since in Leyden a University 
of Holland, spake ten. Caspar Waserus that ornament 
of Zurich, my kind friend, speaketh eight. These are 
meanes that adde much more grace and honour to an 
ingenuous Gentleman, then he can purchase unto himselfe 
by all the exterior gifts of fortune. For though gentility 
be of it selfe gracious, yet it is much more excellent when 
it is adorned with the experience of forraine countries. 
Even as a gold ringe of it selfe is faire and beautifull, but 
much more resplendent when it is decked with a rich 
Diamond or some other precious stone. I will also 
illustrate this matter by some famous examples that I 
have noted in my poore readings. The Patriarch Jacob 
travelled in his old age with his children out of the land 
of Canaan into ^Egypt. Very memorable is the travell 
of the Queene of the South mentioned in the holy 
Scripture, who travelled out of her country of Saba (which 
is a part of Arabia) to Hierusalem, to the end to heare 
Salomons wisedome. Pherecydes the Master of Pytha 
goras was a traveller. Also Pythagoras himselfe travelled 
out of his country of Samos into Italic. Polybius that 
excellent historiographer travelled into many countries 
with Scipio Africanus whom he instructed in learning. 
Apollonius Tyaneus that famous Pythagorean Philo 
sopher, whose life Philostratus hath described in eight 
bookes, travelled for learning sake into .ZEgypt, Persia, 
India, Greece. Dionysius Areopagita an Athenian borne 
into ^Egypt also, and divers other countries. Likewise 
Plinie the Naturalist, and Cornelius Tacitus the historio 
grapher spent some time in travell. The like did S. 
Hierome one of the foure Doctors of the west Church. 
The Emperour Adrian travelled over most of the 
Provinces of the Roman Empire, and for a time made 
his residence in Athens for learning of knowledge. Him 
did the Emperour Antoninus Bassianus Caracalla imitate 
in the like action, though not with so good successe. 



Also that eloquent orator Hermannus Kirchnerus in his The Epistle to 
two orations of travell which I have rudely translated the 
out of Latin into English, and inserted into my observa 
tions, mentioneth these notable examples of travelling, 
namely Euclide, Plato, Aristotle, Anacharsis, Zamolxis, 
Lycurgus, Hippocrates, Cicero, Galen, and Dioscorides. 
Moreover Vincentius Gonzaga Duke of Mantua then 
travelled in divers parts of Germanic when I was abroade. 
All which from the first to the last (Jacob only excepted, 
who travelled for other causes) aymed at this maine scope 
in their travels, as it were their Helice and Cynosura, to 
purchase experience and wisdome ; that they might be 
the better able to benefit their country and commonweale. 
In which they differed much from many of our English 
travellers, to whom I may very truly apply that memorable 
speech of ^Eschines, in his Oration against Timarchus, 
ou rov rpOTTOv a\\d rov TOTTOV novov /j.eTri\\aav* But I Will 
proceede no further in this point, seeing the foresaid 
elegant Orations of Kirchnerus doe more artificially paint 
out the fruits of travell in their naturall colours then I am 
able to doe. 

But now I will descend to speake something of my 
own travels. It hath bene oftentimes objected unto me 
since my comming home, by certaine Gentlemen of 
eminent note, and as it were laid in my dish as a choaking 
peare, that for the short time that I was abroade I 
observed more solid matters then any English man did 
in the like space this long time. For I copied out more 
inscriptions and epitaphes (said a certaine Knight that 
shall passe namelesse) that are written upon solid peeces 
of stone, then any judicious traveller would have done 
in many yeares. For which cause he branded me with 
the note of a tombe-stone traveller. Whereas it had 
beene much more laudable (said he) to have observed the 
governement of common-weales, and affaires of state. I 
answere him, that because I am a private man and no 

*This is answerable unto that in Horace. Ccelum non animum mutant 
qui trans mare currunt. 



The Epistle to statist, matters of policie are impertinent unto me. For 
the Reader. j observe that memO rable distich : 

Vive tibi, quantumque potes praelustria vita, 
Saevum praelustri fulmen ab arce venit. 

Besides I have observed that in some places it is dangerous 
to prie very curiously into State matters, as divers travellers 
have observed by their deare experience ; a most tragical 
example whereof I heard to have beene shewed in the 
City of Strasbourg not long before my arrivall there. 
Moreover I hope that every gentle Reader that shall with 
a milde censure peruse my observations, will say it was 
impossible for me in the space of five months to observe 
all these matters in descriptions of Cities that I have 
handled ; and politique affaires also. But because this 
objection shall not justly take hold upon me, that I am 
a tombestone traveller, if God shall grant me happy suc- 
cesse in my next journey, I will so farre wade into a few 
matters of policie for the better satisfaction of the Reader, 
as I may with security of my life attaine unto. Surely 
I doe not a little wonder that the observing of inscriptions 
and epitaphes should be objected unto me by way of 
disgrace. For who that * TQV e -y/ce^aXoi/ ei> rot? /cpora ^ot? (to 
use that sentence of Demosthenes) KOI /J.YI ev rats Trrepvais 
KaraTreTraTwevov (popel, will deeme it a vanity to write out 
those sweet elegancies that many epitaphes doe present to 
the reader, whereof some few for example sake I will briefly 
recite. The epitaph of Pope Lucius the third, which I 
have mentioned in my notes of Verona, is so pretty, that I 
thinke it cannot but affect every learned Reader. 

Luca dedit lucem tibi Luci, Pontificatum 
Ostia, Papatum Roma, Verona mori. 

lino Verona dedit tibi vere vivere, Roma 
Exilium, curas Ostia, Luca mori. 

Also this witty epitaph that was given me by a learned 

* In Oratione de Haloneso, that is, who that hath his wit in his 
head, and not in his heeles, &c. 



man in my travels, was written upon the tombe of a The Epistle to 
Grammarian in the City of Gaunt. the Reader 

Grammaticam scivi, multos docuique per annos, 
Declinare tamen non potui tumulum. 

Who will not applaud that upon learned Joannes Picus 
Earle of Mirandula in the City of Florence? 

Joannes jacet hie Mirandula, caetera norunt 
Et Tagus, & Ganges, forsan & Antipodes. 

And that upon Rodolphus Agricola in Heidelberg, 
composed by famous Hermolaus Barbarus, as I have 
mentioned in my notes of that City. 

Invida clauserunt hoc marmore fata Rodolphum 

Agricolam, Frisii spemque decusque soli. 
Scilicet hoc uno meruit Germania laudis 

Quicquid habet Latium, Graecia quicquid habet. 

Let them therefore reprehend me as long as they list for 
the collection of those epitaphes and inscriptions in my 
booke. For mine owne part I am so farre from thinking 
my selfe worthy of taxation for the same, that I rather 
feare I have ministred just cause of reprehension to the 
learned for omitting so many notable epitaphes as I might 
have found in divers famous Cities of my travels, 
especially Paris, Milan, and Padua. 

I suppose that divers which will reade my observations, 
will blame me for that I have not translated the Latin 
verses of Julius Caesar Scaliger, which I have prefixed 
before the description of certaine of the nobler Cities, 
and the epitaphes and inscriptions, into English. Because 
many men that cannot understand them in Latin, would 
take some pleasure to reade them in English. To this I 
answere, that if I should have turned them into English, 
many of them would have lost part of their grace by my 
improper translation. Because the Latin tongue hath 
certaine proper and peculiar elegancies, which when they 
are translated into another language, seeme to leese 



The Epistle to something of that genuina venustas that it hath in her 
the Reader. O wne originall no otherwise then certaine plants that being 
removed from their naturall soile to a strange place, will 
not prosper as well as they did before. Therefore I 
thought good to labour but little in this businesse of trans 
lation, saving only in those two memorable things which I 
have translated for the benefit of the unlearned Reader, 
the one, S. Bernards Epistle to the Bishop of Spira. The 
other the historic of the three Kings of Colen. Also 
whereas I understand that some have objected against me, 
that I deserve to be taxed for reporting certaine things 
which I received only by tradition and report of other 
men, not by my owne certaine experience ; I would have 
them know, that I am not the first that hath grounded 
much of his matter upon the speeches of other men ; 
For I have observed that Herodotus, Diodorus Siculus, 
Justin, Quintus Curtius, and divers other ancient his 
torians, as well amongst the Greeks as Latines, have 
done the like, as they may easily observe that peruse 
their workes. But I am sure I doe very seldome depend 
upon the report of others, and when I trust to the 
tradition of them, they are men of such learning from 
whom I derive those matters, that I thinke a man neede 
not doubt to alleage them for authentike authours. As 
in Zurich learned Hospinian told me that their City was 
founded in the time of Abraham. And the like notes 
I received from other learned men, whose testimonies I 
approve as much as the written authority of grave 

It remaineth now that I am to make one instant request 
unto thee (curteous Reader) and with the same will shut 
up my Epistle : Even to desire thee whatsoever thou art 
(if thou shouldest intend to translate my booke into Latin 
in my absence, when I shall be abroade in my next 
travels) manum de tabula tollere. Intermeddle not I 
intreate thee (gentle Reader) with my booke, neither 
thrust thy sickle into my harvest, except thou shalt 
certainly understand by credible report that I have 



miscarried in my voyage. For if God shall grant me The Epistle to 
happy successe in my next travels, and a safe arrivall in the Rea " 
my country, I determine (Oeov StSovroi) to translate both 
these and my future observations into Latin for the benefit 
not only of my owne country, but also of those countries 
where I have already travelled, and hereafter resolve to 
travell. Though truly I doe ingenuously confesse my 
Latin stile is so barren and penurious, that it were much 
fitter for another man to pertorme it then my selfe. As 
for these Observations which I now exhibite unto thy 
gentle censure, take them I pray thee in good part till 
I present better unto thee after my next travels, consider 
ing that it is not in my power to yeeld unto thee such 
exquisite notes of travell as great schollars gather in the 
course of their travels, since I neither professe my selfe 
a schollar, nor acknowledge myselfe worthy to be ranked 
amongst schollars of meane learning, but only wish to be 
accounted a poore well-wilier of the Muses. Notwith 
standing though my beggarly learning can not ayme at 
such weighty matters as are fit to be searched for by a 
learned traveller, yet I will promise thee (if thou wilt 
only winke at some light matters inserted into these my 
Observations) to impart many such memorable things 
unto thee after the end of my next journey, as are often 
times omitted by travellers of that learning, that I am 
not worthy to loose their shoe-lachet, yea such as doe as 
farre excel! me, 

Ante alios quantum Pegasus ibat equos. 

Therefore in the meane time joyne with me in thy best 
wishes for happy successe in my future travels ; and so I 
commend thee to him whom I beseech to blesse thee at 
home, and me abroade. 

Thy benevolent itinerating friend, 

T. C. 

The Odcombian Legge-stretcher. 



Famous Odcombian, or rather Polyptopian 


Traveller, and Gentleman Author of these 
Quinque-mestriall Crudities 

Done by a charitable Friend, that thinks it 

necessary, by this time, you should 

understand the Maker, as well 

as the worke 

Ben Jonson s T TE is an Engine, wholly consisting of extremes, 
Character of J_ J_ a Head, Fingers, and Toes. For what his 
industrious Toes have trod, his ready Fingers have 
written, his subtle head dictating. He was set a going 
for Venice the fourteenth of May, anno 1608. and 
returned home (of himselfe) the third of October 
following, being wound up for five moneths, or 
thereabouts : his paises two for one. Since, by vertue 
of those weights he hath bene conveniently able to visite 
Town and Countrie, Fayres and Mercats, to all places, 
and all societies a Spectacle gratefull, above that of 
Niniveh, or the Citie of Norwich ; and he is now become 
the better Motion, by having this his Booke his Inter 
preter : which yet hath exprest his purse more then him, 



as we the rest of his Commenders have don, so unmerci- Ben Jonsotfs 

fully charging the Presse with his prayse. But to that c ^ ctei J 
r- i u * 11 i TT -n i / u- u the Author. 

Gale, he sets up all sayles. He will beare paper (which 

is cloth) enough. He hath ever since the first designe 
of printing hereof, bene a Deliciis to the Court ; but 
served there in his owne cloathes, and at his owne costs : 
where he hath not bene costive of acquaintance to any, 
from the Palatine to the Plebeian ; which popularity of 
his (it is thought by some of his Odcombians) may hurt 
him. But he free from all other Symptomes of aspiring, 
will easily outcary that ; it being a motlie and no perfect 
ambition : the rather, because when he should have been 
taken up for the place (though he hastily prevented it 
with a tender of himselfe) hee conditioned to have no 
office of charge or neerenesse cast upon him, as a 
Remora of his future travaile ; for to that he is 
irrecoverably addicted. The word Travaile affectes him 
in a Waine-oxe, or a Packe-horse. A Carrier will carry 
him from any company that hath not been abroad, 
because he is a Species of a Traveller. But a Dutch- 
Post doth ravish him. The mere superscription of a 
letter from Zurich sets him up like a top : Basil or 
Heidelberg makes him spinne. And at seeing the word 
Frankford, or Venice, though but on the title of a Booke, 
he is readie to breake doublet, cracke elbowes, and 
overflowe the roome with his murmure. Hee is a mad 
Greeke, no lesse than a merry : and will buy his * Egges, 
his Puddings, his Ginger-bread, yea cobble his shoes in 
the Atticke dialect : and would make it a matter of 
Conscience to speake other, were he trusted alone in a 
roome with an Andiron of state. The greatest Politick 
that advances into Paules he will quit, to go talke with 
the Grecian that begs there ; such is his humility ; and 
doth grieve inwardly he was not borne that countryman 
for that purpose. You shall perceive a veine or 

* I meane when he travelled. A thing, that I know he scorned 
to do since he came home. 

Not to beg, but to talke Greeke the better with the natural Grecians. 
C. C. 17 B 


Ben Jonson s thread of Greeke runne through his whole discourse, 
and another of Latine, but that is the courser. He is 
a great and bold Carpenter of words, or (to expresse him 
in one like his owne) a Logodsedale : which voyce, when 
he heares, tis doubtfull whether he will more love at the 
first, or envy after, that it was not his owne. All his 
Phrase is the same with his manners and haviour, such 
as if they were studied to make Mourners merry : but 
the body of his discourse able to breake Impostumes, 
remove the stone, open the passage from the Bladder, 
and undoe the very knots of the Gout ; to cure even 
where Physick hath turned her back, and Nature hung 
downe her head for shame ; being not only the Antidote 
to resist sadnes, but the Preservative to keepe you in 
mirth, a life and a day. A man might undo the Colledge 
that would practise with onely him. And there is no 
man but to enjoy his company, would neglect any thing 
but businesse. It is thought he lives more by letting* 
out of ayre, then drawing in ; and feared, his belly wil 
exhibite a Bill in Chauncery against his Mouth for talking 
away his meales. He is alwaies Tongue-Major of the 
company, and if ever the perpetuall motion be to be 
hoped for, it is from thence. He will aske, How you 
doe? Where you have bene? How is it? If yow have 
travelled? How yow like his booke? with, what newes? 
and be guilty of a thousand such curteous impertinences 
in an howre, rather then want the humanity of vexing 
you. To conclude this ample Traveller in some bounds 
you shall best know him by this : he is frequent at all sorts 
of free tables, where though he might sit as a Guest, hee 
will rather be served in as a Dish, and is loth to have 
any thing of himselfe kept cold against the next day. 
To give the Non-ultra of him in a word, he is so 
substantive an Author as will stand by himselfe without 
the neede of his Booke to bee joyned with him. 
Here endeth the Character, attended with a 
Characterisme Acrostich. 

* I meane in the fore parts, not the hinder. 



To the Right Noble Tom, Tell-Troth, of his Ben 
Travailes, The Coryate of Odcombe, and his A <* c 

_. > the Author. 

Booke now going to travell. 

T rie and trust Roger, was the word, but now 

H onest Tom Tell-Troth puts down Roger, How? 

O f travell he discourseth so at large, 

M arry he sets it out at his owne charge ; 

A nd therein (which is worth his valour too) 

S hews he dares more then Paules Church-yard durst do. 

C ome forth thou bonnie bouncing booke then, daughter 

O f Tom of Odcombe that odde Joviall Author, 

R ather his sonne I should have cal d thee, why? 

Y es thou wert borne out of his travelling thigh 

A s well as from his braines, and claimest thereby 

T o be his Bacchus as his Palks : bee 

E ver his thighes Male then, and his braines Shee. 

Ben. Jonson. 

An Introduction to the ensuing Verses. 

An Introduc 
tion to the 

Here present unto thee (gentle Reader) 
the encomiastick and panegyrick Verses 
of some of the worthyest spirits of this 
Kingdome, composed by persons of 
eminent quality and marke, as well for 
dignity as excellence of wit ; such as 
have vouchsafed to descend so low as to 
dignifie and illustrate my lucubrations without any 
demerit of theirs* (I do ingenuously confesse) with the 
singular fruits of their elegant inventions, which they 
have expressed in the best and most learned languages of 
the world, two only excepted, which are the f Welch 
and Irish. But in that I exhibite unto thy view such a 
great multitude of Verses as no booke whatsoever printed 
in England these hundred yeares, had the like written 
in praise thereof ; ascribe it not I intreate thee to any 
ambitious humour of me, as that I should crave to obtrude 
so many to the world in praise of my booke. For I 
can assure thee I sollicited not halfe those worthy Wights 
for these verses that I now divulge ; a great part of them 
being sent unto me voluntarily from divers of my friends, 
from whom I expected no such courtesie. At last when 
I saw the multitude of them to increase to so great a 
number, I resolved to put above a thousand of them into 
an Index expurgatorius, and to detain them from the 
presse. Whereupon the Princes Highnesse (who hath 

* Mistake me not Reader. I referre this word to the word 
Lucubrations. j Ironia. 



most graciously deigned to be the * Hyperaspist and ^ n 
Moecenas of my booke) understanding that I meant to p anes r - lc 
suppresse so many, gave me a strict and expresse com- v eri es. 
mandement to print all those verses which I had read to 
his Highnesse. Since then that inevitable necessity hath 
been imposed upon me, I have here communicated that 
copious rhapsodie of poems to the world that my learned 
friends have bountifully bestowed upon me ; wherein 
many of them are disposed to glance at me with their 
free and mery jests, for which I desire thee (courteous 
Reader) to suspend thy censure of me till thou hast read 
over my whole booke. 

* You shall understand the meaning of this word in a marginal 
note upon the verses imediately ensuing. 

[Panegyricke Verses 



|Ordings, full well I hope you know 

I never shot in Phoebus bow, 

Or clim d Parnassus hill : 
Yet must I needes in dogrell rime 

/- & r 

Crave your sweet patience for a time, 

Full sore against my will. 
I am not now to tell a tale 
Of George a Greene, or Jacke a Vale, 

Or yet of Chittiface : 
But I must be the Chanti-cleere 
Of one that is withouten peere, 

A home replete with grace. 
For he at Odcombe was y-bore, 
Whereas the fates were heard to score 

The fortunes of his birth : 
Goe pretty dandy-prat to schoole 
(Said they) thou shalt no little foole 

Be counted for thy mirth. 
The child in time was waxen great, 
And all the Sophists he did threat 

Their problemes to confound ; 
Grammarians sore did stand in feare 
The coynage of his words to heare, 

So uncouth was their sound. 
For by a naturall instinct 
The Graces to his lips were linkt, 

(Forsooth his lips were faire.) 
His mouth did open ere he spake, 



And swifter farre then Ducke and Drake 

His words flew through the ayre. 
The stony hearts that could not bide 
A Church-Ale at a Whitsontide, 

He suppled with his speech : 
And like a Captaine bold and stout 
He did advance his Eagles snowt, 

Faire thrive it I beseech. 
Not Mahound, no nor Termagaunt 
Could ever make halfe their avant 

Of deedes so sterne and fell, 
As can this child Sir Thopas Squire, 
Inspired with a sparke of fire 

Stolne out of wisdomes cell. 
He hammers words upon his teeth 
(Rime thereunto I can unneeth) 

Yet still I will proceede ; 
Like as a Beare doth licke her whelpe, 
Their roughnesse so his tongue doth helpe, 

When polishing is neede. 
Now Lordings mercy doe I aske, 
That since I under-went this taske 

His name I have conceald ; 
He keepes the Magazine of wit, 
And beares the privy key of it, 

Which may not be reveal d. 
Yet in despite of bread and ale, 
Unbuckled now shall be the male, 

Betide what may betide : 
His name is Coryate I wis, 
But whether he be flesh or fish, 

I cannot yet decide. 
For like the errant Knight Ulysses, 
Through the Seas amongst the fishes 

He lanched forth his hulke : 
The sides whereof were heard to groane 
No lesse than twenty miles and one 

Under his grievous bulke. 



Then either without scrippe or bagge 

. - 

He usde his ten-toes tor a nagge 

From Venice for to hie. 
Thorough thicke, and thorough thinne 
Untill he came unto his Inne, 

His winged heeles did flie. 
He travaild North, he travaild South 
With * Hyperaspist in his mouth 

A word of his devising. 
For nature letters pattents gave 
To him the priviledge to have 

Of words naturalizing. 
To trees and steeples as he went 
He did his homage verament, 

And salu-ed them each one. 
He registred their names alwaies ; 
Contrary if that any saies, 

The booke is to be showne. 
A Cortizan then lycoras 
More sweet in Venice towne there was, 

That wisht him for her owne : 
But shee could never him hand fast ; 
For as a Gelding he was chast, 

Though Gelding he were none. 
The Barcarvola appetite 
His Gondola directed right 

Unto a female Elfe ; 
Yet would he not play Cupids Ape, 
In Chaucers jest lest he should shape 

* A word that the author once used in an Oration to the Prince, 
metaphorically signifying (as being derived from these two Greeke 
wordes virep, that signifieth above, and WCTTTIS, a shield, that is, one 
that opposeth his shield in the defence of his friend against the blow 
of an enemie) a Patron or Protector. Which word by a kind of 
conversion may be not improperly applied (as a certaine conceited 
Gentleman lately said) to the authour himselfe. Hyperaspist quasi 
hy per hor spist, that is, one upon whom never Asses pist, but Horses once 
pist on him, as when he lay upon straw at their heeles in Bergomo a 
Citie of Lombardie. 



A Pigsnye like himselfe. 
This wandring Squire full oft I heard 
The circle of his beard had squard, 

And skowred every haire ; 
That sweeter then the Eglentine, 
And then the purple Columbine 

He did appeare more faire. 
He had a kind of simple blush 
That kept him still from being flush, 

When Ladies did him wooe : 
Though they did smile, he seem d to scowle, 
As doth the faire broade-faced fowle, 

That sings To whit to whooe. 
It was no crochet of his braine 
That put his legs to so great paine 

In passing to and fro : 
But sure it was the quintessence 
Of study, that beyond all sence 

Had made his wits to crow. 
With Latin he doth rule the roast, 
And spowteth Greeke in every coast, 

Ne r may his well-spring fade : 
He over-speakes the English tongue, 
And picketh gold out of the dongue 

That ancient Poets made. 
If any Zoilus will carpe, 
Or take upon him for to harpe 

Upon his learned strings : 
On foote to Venice let him goe, 
And then at his returning show 

What fruite from thence he brings. 
For had our Coryate beene a Jade, 
In halfe the journey that he made 

He had beene foundered cleane : 
But now by foote, by cart, and saile, 
Tom Coryate is come from Itaile, 

From Italie I meane. 
The squeazie humour of his braine 



Before he parted from this maine, 

Neare perished his skull : 
Now since the Sunne beganne to sup, 
And drinke those grosser vapours up, 

He is no more a Gull. 
Oh let the fardels of his leaves 
Be held more pretious then the sheaves 

Pitched up in harvest time ; 
Ne ever any man alive 
May see them sayling from Queene-hive 

Now Muse stay heere thy rime. 

Explicit AT 

Incipit Henricus Nevill de Abergevenny. 

Henry Nevill. /^lOldilockt God that doest on Parnasse dwell, 
Vj" O thou that sweetly playest on a fiddle 
To sisters Nine, that Aganippes Well 
Do much frequent, there bathing to the middle ; 
Lend me thy notes, that I may sweeter sing 
Of Tom of Odcombe then doth Odcombe ring. 

Oh that some errant Knight could now be scene, 
That he might dubbe thee ; crying, Up Sir Thomas : 
Their dangers and adventures lesse have beene 
That erst did wander to the land of promise. 
Thou mak st Sir Bevis and sir Guy a fable, 
With all the daring knights of the round table. 

Unto thy shoes, thy shirt, thy fustian case, 
That hang at Odcombe, trophees of thy travailes, 
Joyne this fayre book of thine, which makes thee passe 
Great Merlin Cockay in recounting marveiles. 
Whilst pendant scutchins others tombes adorne, 
O re thine these faire atchivements shall be borne. 

Explicit Henricus Nevill de Abergevenny. 



Incipit Joannes Harrington de Bathe. 

THou glorious Goose that kept st the Capitoll, 
Afford one quill, that I may write one storie yet 
Of this my new-come Odcombe-friend Tom Coryet, 
Whose praise so worthy wits and pens inroll 

As (with good cause) his custome is to glory it : 
So farre am I from judging his a sory wit, 
Above earth, seas, ayre, fire, He it extoll 

To Cinthias spheare, the next beneath the starres. 
Where his vast wit, and courage so audacious 

Of equall worth in times of peace, and warres, 
(As Rolands erst) encombring roomes capacious 
Lie stored some in hogsheads, some in jarres. 
This makes the learn d of late in forren parts 
Finde Phcebes face so full of wennes and warts. 

Explicit Joannes Harrington de Bathe. 

Incipit Ludovicus Lewknor. 

OLd wormy age that in thy mustie writs 
Of former rooles records the present wits, 
Tell us no more the tale of Apuleius Asse, 
Nor Mydas eares, nor lo eating grasse. 
This worke of Toms so farre them all exceeds, 
As Phoebus fiddle did Pans squeaking reeds. 
He writes not of a gnat, nor frogge, nor woodcocks 

Of steeples, townes, and towers, entreats his gooses 


Among the rest hee of a wondrous tub doth tell, 
The wine whereof more Poets made then Tempes Well. 
In Odcomb d Toms regard the * Cyclops heards were thin, 
Our Tom quicke cattell fed whole legions on his skinne. 
So did poore bare Philosophers in former times, 
And so do Poets now that make the lowzy rimes. 

* Homer. F irgiL 

John Harring 



LudovicLewk- Five months with this in child-birth lay Toms labring 


In all which time he seldome chang d his shirt or shoes. 
The care and toyle was his, thine are the gaines, 
Cracke then the nut, and take the kernell for thy paines. 

Explicit Ludovicus Lewknor. 


Incipit Henricus Goodier. 

IF in an evennesse all wisedome lie, 
Tom thou art wise, thou dost all evenly. 
Once thou didst wench, and thou wert carted once, 
Once thou didst * steale, & once they beate thy bones. 
Once didst thou beg, and if thou then didst get 
Nothing by begging, thou art even yet. 
What onely he saw he onely writes, if than 
He only reade it, hee s an even man. 
Our spies write home no ill of him ; he went, 
He staid, he came an even Innocent. 
The Jesuites could not shake him : for he would not 
Take orders, but remaine an II Idiote. 
If any thinke him dull or heavy, know 
The Court and cities mirth cannot be so. 
Who thinks him light, aske them who had the taske 
To beare him in a trunke unto the maske, 
He is so equall, that if he were laid 
Into those scales whereby the proofe is made, 
Whether the woman or the plume prevaile, 
He and his booke would hardly turne the scale. 

Explicit Henricus Goodier. 

* Viz. grapes. 

A harmelesse man. 

|| A lay man, or private man, as being derived from the Greeke 
word tSwTT/s, which signifieth a private man. 



Incipit Joannes Payton junior. 

MAgnifique Caesar that in worth surpasses John Payton\ 

The greatest of our greatest Turkish Basses, junior. 
All the long night oft times did waking tarry, 
And made the night the day his Secretary : 
Yet if in little volumes you revoke it, 
His worke of many yeares lies in your pockit. 
But thou 6 Coryate mak st Caesar but a *Javell, 
And writest huge volumes of twise ten weekes travell : 
Twise twenty weekes a dwarfish birth will aske, 
Thou in twise ten brought st forth this mighty taske ; 
Then if abortive birth had not prevented, 
What Atlas would thy Gyant-braine invented ? 
Sith seven such countries none so soone could passe 
As thou the learned Coryate Thomas. 
Yet thy large writings wonder more I at, 
Thou Odcombs only Grace Tom Coryat, 
For of the twaine much rather would I misse his 
That wrote the ten yeares travels of Ulysses : 
For who considers well, he quickly finde should 
That thou wrotest perfect, seeing Homer blind-fold. 

Explicit Joannes Payton Junior. 

Incipit Henricus Poole. 

DOn Coryate once I saw, but his booke never, Henry Poole. 

Yet meane I to commend them both together : 
Him for his booke, his booke for him I praise : 

The workman s fame the workmanship doth raise 
To great esteeme, no foule tongue can defile it, 

The work s of worth, for Coryate did compile it. 
The goods wherewith this westerne barge is fraught, 

Thou gentle Reader shalt enjoy for nought ; 
They cost thee nothing but a thankfull minde, 

Which this our author hopes in thee to finde : 

* In Prisciano vapulaiite. 


Henry Poole. Who in his travell hath observed more, 

Then ever any wyzard did before ; 
And what he hath observed, with his pen 

He here presenteth to his country-men : 
That he whom five moneths travell made so witty, 

Should live obscure at home, were it not pitty? 
Then Coryate feede thy Muse in forraine parts, 

Swallow their secrets, and devoure their arts ; 
Whereof when thou saturitie shalt gaine, 

Come home, and then disgorge thy selfe againe. 

Explicit Henricus Poole. 

Incipit Robertus Phillips. 

Robert OInce every pen is press d to praise 

Phillips. ^ Thee travelling Wonder of our daies, 

My Muse would chide, should she not sing 
The praise of thee most wandring thing, 
Who with thy restlesse feete and painefull wit 
A booke of wonders now hast writ ; 
In which thy worke we plaine do see 
How well thy feete and wit agree. 
What others thought too heavy and too high, 
As Tombes, Steeples, with the Butter-flie, 
Thou hast brought home, though not in solid stuffe : 
For which let not our carping Criticks huffe : 
For thou the substance wouldest not bring 
Of ought which might be termed a * solid thing. 
Alas poore Tom, they do mistake thy age 
Who thinke thou art not past the making sage ; 
Or that thy journey had some other ends 
Then to delight and recreate thy friends. 
And if perhaps some man may call thee foole 
For this thy end, good Tom pull out thy toole, 

* If you meane solid stones, you are in the right Sir. If solid 
Observations, I referre my selfe to the Readers censure after he hath 
thoroughly perused my booke, whether I have brought home any 
solid thing or no. 



Thy booke I mean, demaund if that an Asse Robert 

Could have observed so much as he did passe : ?* 

Or could have got such praise in rime 

As thou shalt shew to future time ; 

By which thou shalt so lively pourtrayed bee, 

As that the *Asse himselfe himselfe may see. 

Thy danger with the Boore, thy hazard with the Jewes, 

Thy scabs at Turin, and solace in the stewes, 

Let others chaunt, I list not tell them over, 

Nor of thy liquid case twixt France and Dover ; 

Though there thou madest so great a savour, 
& ..... ~ & 

That few received it for a favour. 

I onely will commend thy constant nature, 

Who didst returne the f simple creature 

That thou wentst forth, and having trudg d 

Much ground, at length art judged 

By the full praise of every Muse, 

Which ushereth in thy booke of newes : 

Therefore brave Champion of the Whitson-ale, 

Let thy fayre journall to the presse hoise saile, 

That after ages too may know thee, 

As well as we that now enjoy thee. 

Who to the end that gratefull we may seeme, 

Thee of the JMarrot worthy doe we deeme. 

Explicit Robertus Phillips. 

Incipit Dudleus Digges upon the Author 
and his paynes. 

OUr Author will not let me rest, he sayes, Dudley 

Till I write somewhat in his labours praise ; 
I thinking straight upon Deliverie, 
Protest his labour such a Prodigie, 

* I meane any critical! carper that shall taxe thee for thy Booke. 
t Not composed of the vices of those countries through which thou 
traveld st, which doth often happen to many of our English men that 
returne home corrupted in manners and much worse then they went 

| That is, the Lawrell, so called from one Marrot a French Poet. 


Dudley As may a Mountebanke Man-midwife gravell 
To see a man that was five mon ths in travell, 
So fairly brought abed, and of a birth 
*So but of that judge by these gossips mirth. 
Joy to the glad Dad, who such fondnes shewes, 
That by a hundred markes the wise child knowes 
Who twas, and can in print already call, 
Coryate the kind Father, and the Naturall. 

In genium liber iste tuum Coriate sepultum 
Continet, inde petat qui caret ingenio. 

Explicit Dudleus Digges. 

Incipit Rowlandus Cotton. 

Rowland /^iQlumbus, Magelan, and Drakes brave story 
Cotton. vet remem bred unto their glory. 

But thy high deeds with theirs when I compare, 

I say thy travels have with theirs no share. 

I wonder then this writing age hath fail d 

To tell ere this how farre Tom Coryate sail d 

In five mon ths time, and most or all on foote. 

What man alive that ever else did do t? 

It cannot be but that the world did looke 

That thou thy selfe hereof shouldst write a booke, 

What good acceptance such a booke shall finde, 

Thou need st not doubt, there s no man so unkind 

That will make scruple for to be thy halfe 

Since thou the heifer art that beares the calfe. 

Tis thy first borne Tom, I pray thee love it ; 

And whosoever shall thy issue covet, 

I wish there may befall him this one curse, 

To treade thy steps againe, and with thy purse. 

Yet one thing Tom I do dislike in sooth, 

Thou dost not spare thy selfe to tell a truth. 

As that in the first ^Enei. of Virgil. Quos ego. 
This is that which the Latines call Indulgentia, the Grecians 



What need st thou in thy storie be so nice, Rowland 

To tell thy child of all thy nits and lice? 

Yet it becomes thee well, and much the rather, 

The sonne, I thinke, will prove so like the father. 

But pardon Tom, if I no Further tell 

Those gifts which in thee do by nature dwell. 

Who tels the Asse that he hath two long eares, 

Or Chanti-cleare that he a coxcombe weares? 

Why, all the world doth know as well as I 

That never any did as much descrie, 

So many nations, manners, and so soone, 

Except alone the man that s in the moone. 

Let other wits that with a nimbler wing 

Do cut the emptie ayre, thy prayses sing ; 

My Muse intreats thee to resume thy penne, 

And to relate unto thy countrey-men 

Whether thy father Joviall were or sad, 

And what complexion thy faire mother had 

When they were linked in wedlocks lovely band, 

And whether of them had the upper hand : 

How many mon ths thy mother did intombe 

Thy tender body in her fruitfull wombe : 

What milder planet governed in the skie 

In the horoscope of thy nativity, 

Thy mothers midwife, and thy nurses name, 

The shire and houshold whence thy linage came. 

Who trained up thy youth, and in what place, 

Whether where Isis hides her dewie face, 

Or where the silver streames of Chame do glide, 

Shaddowed with willowes upon either side ; 

That other men may learne to get a sonne 

To see those countries which thy selfe hast done. 

This calculation yet would breed a danger, 

And twere not fit to teach it every stranger ; 

Lest when the world thy learned booke should view, 

A foole might get as wise a child as you. 

Explicit Rowlandus Cotton. 

[Incipit Robertus 
c. c. 33 c 


Incipit Robertas Yaxley. 

Robert TF the Author had a curious coate 

Taxley. With cap of costly die, 

And crowne of cocke for crest thereon, 

With whetstone hanging by, 
Then might he tell of travellers, 

And all the thriftlesse traine, 
Which proudly forth on Asses pricke, 

Twixt Italy and Spaine. 
For Thomas is by travell tri d, 

And truth of him to tell, 
Ther s few of them that now go forth 

Returne home halfe so well. 
Then buy this booke ye Brittons bold, 

But read it at your leisure : 
For it and he, and he and it, 

Were made to shew you pleasure. 

Explicit Robertus Yaxley. 

Incipit Joannes Strangwayes. 

John Strong- r I ^Hou crav st my verse, yet do not thank me for it, 
wayes. J_ j? or w hat rimes can praise enough Tom Coryate? 

Kemp yet doth live, and only lives for this 
Much famous, that he did dance the Morris 
From London unto Norwich. But thou much more 
Doest merit praise. For though his feete were sore, 
Whilst sweaty he with antick skips did hop it, 
His treadings were but friscals of a poppet. 
Or that at once I may expresse it all, 
Like to the Jacks of jumbled virginall. 
But thou through heats and colds, through punks and 


Through hils and dales hast stretcht thy weary stumps, 
Feeding on hedge-row fruits, and not on plum-trees, 
Onely through zeale to visite many countries. 
But stay a while, and make a stand my Muse, 



To think upon his everlasting shoe s. 3ohn Strang- 

Come to my helpe some old-shod pilgrime wight, 

That I of you may tread the way aright 

Which leads unto his fame, whilst I do stile 

How he did go at least nine hundred mile 

With one poore paire of shooes, saving alone-a 

He onely once did sole them at * Verona. 

So that it grew a question whether 

Thy shoes or feete were of more lasting leather. 

Which at that time did stand thee in most use, 

When as the Jewes would cut off thy prepuce ; 

But thou that time like many an errant Knight, 

Didst save thy selfe by vertue of thy flight. 

Whence now in great request this Adage stands ; 

One paire of legges is worth two paire of hands. 

Explicit Joannes Strangwayes. 


Incipit Gulielmus Clavel. 


Oryats travels doe bewitch my pen, 

Worke miracles, making the dumbe to speake : 
My dumbe-borne Muse yet never knowne to men 
Doth by his charmes her silent custome breake. 
For if his worthy actes had not beene such, 
The world could not have drawen from me thus much. 

They only force from me both praise and wonder, 
Who past beliefe have conquerd many dangers : 
It can not be describ d what he brought J under, 
Leaving the skars of his renowne with strangers. 
Then frolicke man and in thy country rowse thee, 
Although abroade thou scornd st not to be lowsie. 

Send out thy copious booke to common view, 

Make many laugh, some scorne, move most to pitty. 

Those that travell, (as no man hath his due) 

* You should have said Zurich. 

| You meane some merry matter Sir. 



William s na n still confesse with shame thy booke is witty ; 

x~ // 

And after ages will admire no doubt 


This Gog-Magog thy Gyant-wit brings out. 

Explicit Gulielmus Clavel. 

Incipit Joannes Scory, 

John Scory. npHat thou a traveller mayst called bee, 

A Thanks to thy braines that travell, not to thee ; 
That thou a rare read-schollar clepyd art, 
Give more thanks to thy tongue, then to thy arte. 
Yet have thy feete in five moneths pass d more Cities, 
Then ere thy Poetrie will make good ditties. 
Ballets unfit to stand before thy booke, 
Wherein who so with judgments eies will looke, 
May see a monster of five moneths begetting. 
More rare than that of thy own Sires begetting. 
Some say, when thou wert borne (O wondrous hap) 
First time thou pist thy clouts, thou drew st a map. 
But that thou spakest as soone as thou wert borne, 
There is no doubt. For else how couldst thou learne 
In so short time to talke so long and much, 
And to such purpose. Yet I heare no Dutch, 
Nor French, nor Spanish, nor the Italian tongue ; 
So mightst thou do thy Greeke and Latin wrong ; 
Of which thou utterst such abundant store, 
That thy full braines can now containe no more. 
Well Tom, since Europe thou hast scene in part, 
Now into Asia and Africke make a start. 
Boldly encounter all the monsters there : 
For seeing thee they needs must flie for feare. 
But still be sure thy buckler be thy booke, 
Medusaes shield had ne re so grim a looke. 

Explicit Joannes Scory. 


Incipit Joannes Donne. 

OH to what heigth will love of greatnesse drive John Donne. 

Thy leavened spirit, Sesqui-superlative ? 
Venice vast lake thou hadst scene, wouldst seeke than 
Some vaster thing, and foundst a Cortizan. 
That inland Sea having discovered well, 
A Cellar-gulfe, where one might saile to hell 
From Heydelberg, thou longdst to see ; And thou 
This Booke, greater than all, producest now, 
Infinite worke, which doth so farre extend, 
That none can study it to any end. 
Tis no one thing ; it is not fruite, nor roote ; 
Nor poorely limited with head or foote. 
If man be therefore man, because he can 
Reason, and laugh, thy booke doth halfe make man. 
One halfe being made, thy modesty was such, 
That thou on th other halfe wouldst never touch. 
When wilt thou be at full, great Lunatique? 
Not till thou exceed the world ? Canst thou be like 
A prosperous nose-borne wenne, which sometime growes 
To be farre greater than the Mother-nose? 
Goe then ; and as to thee, when thou didst goe, 
Munster did Townes, and Gesner Authors show, 
Mount now to Gallo-belgicus ; Appeare 
As deepe a States-man, as a Gazettier. 
Homely and familiarly, when thou commest backe, 
Talke of Will Conqueror, and Prester Jacke. 
Goe bashfull man, lest here thou blush to looke 
Upon the progresse of thy glorious booke. 
To which both Indies sacrifices send ; 
The west sent gold, which thou didst freely spend, 
(Meaning to see t no more) upon the presse. 
The east sends hither her deliciousnesse ; 
And thy leav s must embrace what comes from thence, 
The Myrrhe, the Pepper, and the Frankinsence. 
This magnifies thy leav s ; but if they stoope 
To neighbour wares, when Merchants doe unhoope 



John Donne. Voluminous barrels, if thy leav s doe then 
Convay these wares in parcels unto men, 
If for vaste Tomes of Currans, and of Figs, 
Of Medcinall, and Aromatique twigs, 
Thy leav s a better methode doe provide, 
Divide to Pounds, and Ounces subdivide ; 
If they stoope lower yet, and vent our wares, 
Home-manufactures, to thicke popular faires, 
If omniprEegnant there, upon warm stals 
They hatch all wares for which the buyer cals, 
Then thus thy leav s we justly may commend, 
That they all kinde of matter comprehend. 
Thus thou, by meanes which th Ancients never tooke, 
A Pandect makest, and Universall Booke. 
The bravest Heroes, for publique good 
Scattred in divers lands, their limmes and blood. 
Worst malefactors, to whom men are prize, 
Doe publique good, cut in Anatomies ; 
So will thy Booke in peeces : For a Lord 
Which casts at Portescues, and all the board, 
Provide whole Books ; Each leafe enough will be 
For friends to passe time, and keepe companie. 
Can all carouse up thee ? No : thou must fit 
Measures ; and fill out for the half-pinte wit. 
Some shal wrap pils, and save a friends life so, 
Some shall stop muskets, and so kill a foe. 
Thou shalt not ease the Critiques of next age 
So much, at once their hunger to asswage. 
Nor shall wit-pyrats hope to finde thee lie 
All in one bottome, in one Librarie. 
Some leav s may paste strings there in other books, 
And so one may, which on another looks, 
Pilfer, alas, a little wit from you, 
But hardly * much ; and yet, I thinke this true ; 
As Sybils was, your booke is misticall, 
For every peece is as much worth as all. 

* I meane from one page which shall paste strings in a booke. 



Therefore mine impotency I confesse ; John Donne. 

The healths which my braine beares, must be farre lesse ; 
Thy Gyant wit o erthrowes me, I am gone ; 
And rather then reade all, I would reade none. 

In eundem Macaronicon. 

QUot, dos haec, LINGUISTS perfetti, Disticha fairont, 
Tot cuerdos STATES-MEN, hie liure fara tuus. 
Es sat A MY 1 honneur estre hie inteso : Car i LEAVE 
L honra, de personne nestre creduto, tibi. 

Explicit Joannes Donne. 

Incipit Richardus Martin. 

To my friend that by lying at the signe of the Richard 
Fox doth prove himselfe no Goose, Thomas 
Coryate, the Traveller, a Sonet. 

OFor a bonny blith and bounsing ballet 
To praise this Odcomb d Chanti-cleere that hatched 

These Crudities which (with his shoes) he patched, 

All hitting right as it were with a mallet, 
Before us here he sets both bag and wallet, 

Where met are many scraps (you see) unmatched : 

His feete, hands, head (daies and nights) walkt, wrote, 
watched : 

And hardly did he lie on any pallet. 
Much oyle he sav d both from his shoes and sallats, 

Which thriftily he ate while they were cobled ; 

Then (for his fruite) these Crudities he gobled, 
Which since he season d hath for sundry palats. 

To him therefore vaile travellers your bonnets, 

Of him write Poets all your Songs and Sonnets. 

Explicit Richardus Martin. 

[Incipit Laurentius 


Incipit Laurentius Whitakerus. 

Laurence Ad Lectorem bipedem de Authore *Polypode, 
deque proverbio ipsi usitato, eque Demos- 

thene citato, scil. rot/ eyKecpaXov ev rot/? Trrepvai?, 
KOI M ev TCI? KporafyoiS (popelv, 

Qv /H.OVQV ev Kporddtois, aXX ei TTTepvat? 

AeiKWcriv e epywv vovv enroot] /u.ov e ^eiv 
A.y%ivo)<s ra^ecos re TOCT ovpea <TK\^pa TT 

Ta? r ayopas, 7rpo(3o\a9, KOi\aas, ySe 

Ev /JiV 6^0) OaTTWf OVK ?}V TToSctS O)KU? A)(t 

Me/oj^a /xj/^ ayro? ypd/u.fJ.aT e-jraivov e^et. 

Ttoi/ TTTeovcov i/ooi e^fbaivova i Tropecai, 
Kat rou r)v KpoTa<p(Joi> SeiKeXov ecrrJ f3l(3\os, 

Ad Odcombiam (nimium, bona si sua norit, 
fcelicem) de indigena ipsius celeberrimo, 
Pedite celerrimo, -fPugile acerrimo, JVigile 
macerrimo, Tomo compacto Coriaceo, Thoma 

ERige turrigerum praerupta Odcombia collem, 
E gremio Monstrum prosilit ecce tuo. 
Prosilit historicus, vates, rhetor, peregrinans, 

Cui non dant foetum Punica regna parem. 
Bisque biceps author prolem dat Tea-<rapajui.op(pov, 

Historiis, miris, rhetoris arte, metris. 
Neu Monstri nomen laevum quis dixerit, audi ; 

Rectius hos dici nil potuisse scias. 
Monstrum a monstrando Criticus denominat, ecquis 

Tot vel tanta alius quae tibi monstret, habet? 
Te mundo monstrat, notam facit, & tibi mundum ; 

Subjiciens oculis extera mira tuis. 

* Vel quia Polypodis instar crebra loci mutatione multos passus pro- 
fectus, vel quia multipedum animalculorum multos morsus perpessus est. 

f Ob validam ipsius cum Judaeo Veneto, & Vangione rustico luctam. 

| Ob maciem ex nocturna lucubratione, hodaeporetica monitione, & 
Cruditatum molitione contractam. 



Visere sed vatis terras magis usque remotas Laurence 

Pluraque fert animus mira referre tui. Whitaker, 

Hunc post emensos tantos, Odcombia, cursus 
Exceptum gremio, chara, foveto tuo. 

Semper ut hoc cunctis Portentum nobile monstres, 
Visere qui cupient Theseos ora tui. 

To the most peerelesse Poetical Prose-writer, the 
most Transcendent, Tramontane Traveller, 
and the most single-soled, single-souled, and 
single-shirted Observer, the Odcombian Gallo- 

WOnder of worlds, that with one fustian case, 
One payre of shoes, hast done Odcombe the grace 
To make her name knowen past the Alpine hils, 
And home return d hast worne out many quils 
In writing faire thy large red-lin d Rehearsall 
Of what thou saw st with sharpe eyes which did pearce all 
Stone Tombes, great gates, and manners of the people, 
Besides the height of many a * Tower and Steeple, 
^nailes, 2 Butterflies, black 3 sheep, 4 black hogs, & 5 Storks 
And the neate use of eating meate with 6 forkes : 
And, that of stuffe thou might st leave out no odd piece 
To raise thy worke, th hast writ o th Switzers 7 Cod 
piece : 

Thou saw st the Venice 8 Donna s, & didst quarrell 
With the Dutch JBoore, thou saw st the monstrous 

t barrel : 

But O thy temper! seldome wast thou drunke, 
Nor hadst but one night s solace with thy punke : 
Nor in thy pilgrimage wert much a sinner, 
But when thou didst listeale bread to save a dinner. 

*P P . 113, 183, 451. 

!P. 68. 2 P. 76. 3 P. 68. 4 Ibid. 5 P. 41. 6 P. 90. 
7 P. 386. 8 P 261. | P. 524. fP. 486. 

[The references are to the pages of the original text.] 



Laurence Thou in all sorts of travell hadst thy part, 
Whitaker. g ut most on f ootej an d sometimes in a cart.f 

Nor didst thou scorne for all spruce Criticks mockings, 
T accept of gift a Prussians aged stockings. 
Thow sawst the field of many a famous battell, 
And home thou cam st well furnisht with quicke cattell ; 
Yet must I say thy fortune therein was ill, 
For thou wentst nak t to wash thy shirt at Basil ; 
And having seene Cloysters, and many a Monke, 
Becam st thy selfe a Recluse in a trunke. 
But Il e not write thy labours Inventory, 
Pie say but this of thee, and of thy story, 
Thou well describ st the marvels thou didst see, 
And this thy booke as well describeth thee. 

SONNET compose en rime a la *Marotte, accommode 
au style de 1 Autheur du liure ; faict en loiiange de cet 
Heroique Geant Odcombien, nomme non Pantagruel, 
mais Pantagrue, c est a dire, ny Oye, ny Oison, ains 
tout Grue, accoustre icy en Hochepot, Hachis, ou 
Cabirotade, pour tenir son rang en la Librairie de 
1 Abbaye St. Victor a Paris, entre le liure de Mar- 
moretus de baboinis & cingis, & celuy de Tirepetanus 
de optimitate triparum ; & pour porter le nom de la 
Cabirotade de Coryat, ou, de 1 Apodemistichopezologie 
de 1 Odcombeuili Somerseti (Soti) en, &c. 

SI de ce pais le pourpris spatieux, 
(D ou est sorti ce Badin precieux) 
Ou bien la Suisse, ou mesme PAlemagne 
Pouroit fournir quelque douce compagne 
D esprit pareil, & de condition 
Semblable a luy, le vieil Deucalion 

|| Beleeve him not reader, he brings this in onely to make up the 

tP. 9- 

* A scavoir seloa le style de Clement Marot vieil Poete Francois. 
Cest a dire, Voyageur du mot Grec, 



Et Pyrrhe en eux seroient resuscitez : 
Car ne nasquit de leurs cailloux iettez, 
Que tas de gens, & un monde nouueau : 
Ainsi des pierres, ou nostre II Blaireau 
Alette 1 oeil (fut-ce aux Fonts, ou Potences, 
Clochers, Statues, qui tiennent balances) 
Est ne soudain un grand hideux volume 
De beau discours, qui s est rendu 1 enclume 
De nos esprits, un monde de fadeze, 
Dont le goutteux se resiouir soit aise. 
Tay toy Rablais, rabbaisse soit 1 orgueil 
De tes Endouilles, qui d un bel accueil 
Receurent ton * Geant en la f Farouche, 
A ce Geant d Odcombe pierre & souche 
Park, fournit des comptes, Pentretint 
Le muguetta, voire & son sens maintint 
En ce travail : Mais scais-tu bien pour quoy ? 
Son Chef Creste luy donna ceste loy, 

Que des hommes du lieu ne scachant le language, 
Parmy troncs & cailloux il passeroit sa rage. 

Explicit Laurentius Whitakerus. 

Incipit Hugo Holland. 
In persona & laudem authoris. 

Ov Tro\v/j.r)Tis e yco, TroSa? aXXa /mev COKV? O owcreu?, Hugo 

/3Ae\j/-a9 TrXavovirXeov e lKotri Keivov, 
a -rra ypa<^>u> ^eVo? o<p6a\ju.6iiTiv e/ma 
, yaiaoe evi iraTpiSi "Xepari. 

|| Un certain animal, qui a la veue fort percante. 

* Pantagruel. 

t Une Isle ainsi appellee par Rablais. 




H U S (~\ Ui P uo niirar ognun, chi non e cieco, 

Holland. V^J 1 Un gallant huomo ch in Italia e stato : 

Ma del parlare ha mai motto imparato, 
Troppo pecan te era por tarsi seco. 

Egli pur bravamente parlal Graeco, 
Havendo mai la Graecia caminato : 
Ma quel viaggio, di ch ei n ha parlato, 
Gli a piu gran stento, e piu gran lode ceco. 

E per vedere i lidi del Leuante ; 

El signor Turco, e l messer prete Gianni : 
Donde tornando un Paladin errante, 

Con qualche spesa di quatrini e d anni : 
Ne contera, fra cose tali e tante, 
II Turco un pantalon, e l prete un Zanni. 

To Topographicall Typographicall Thomas. 

I Sing the man, I sing the wofull case, 
The shirt, the shoes, the shanks that serv d to trace 
Seven Countries wide, the greater was his paine, 
That two to one he ever came againe, 
Yet two for one he came : O Muse, O Maid, 
(If Maid or Muse) say what hath so beraid 
This silly *soule, and drove him to such labours, 
As had his hide bene onely made for tabours? 
Recount my Girle, what did he with the French, 
Before he courted the Venetian wench? 
How could he leave his well-boyl d beere, & scape, 
To drinke the raw bloud of the Germane grape? 
Wherewith his watrie teeth being set on edge, 
He nigh had lost of teeth his double hedge. 
At home much did he suffer, much abroad, 
And never once (poore f Asse) did cast his load, 
Yet further went then Scaracalasino, 

* Iniignem pietate virum. eya/cos oSovrwv. Horn. 

f Note reader that a traveller must have the backe of an Asse, the 
mouth of a sow, the eye of a hawke, a merchants eare, &c. 



And after litter d lay at Bergomo. Hugo 

This usage did he beare abroad uncivil!, Holland. 

At home too was he borne not farre from Evill. 

In Odcombe parish yet famous with his cradle, 

A chicke he hatcht was of an egge unaddle. 

Whence a yong Cockrel he was sent for knowledge 

To Winchester, and planted in the Colledge : 

Not there to prove a goose (for he is none) 

But that he might with other Cocks come on. 

Where loe a dwarfe in stature he so pliant 

Grew in the Greeke, that he became a Giant, 

Pronouncing then Demosthenes each letter 

More plaine, and reading all then Homer better, 

This Prince of Poets, that of Rhetoritians. 

His Latine too deserves more praise then Priscians, 

For Coryate lives, and Priscian he is dead, 

No marvaile ; Coryate brake so oft his head. 

Now when in Greeke and Latin he could gravell 

His schoole fellowes, forsooth he needs will travell ; 

Not for bare language, but (his charges earning 

On the by) on the maine, for reall learning. 

Be Basil proofe and Zurich too, and Frankfort, 

As thou in print maist see, if thou him thanke for t. 

What would he with more tongues? he hath enough, 

That which he hath is fine neat-leather tough : 

And yet at Calais to confound the Masse 

Some say he spake the tongue of Balaams Asse. 

And others, that with Sampsons Asses jawbone. 

He slew whole hoasts : so is he rough and rawbone. 

T were but a frump to name the Asses backe, 

Each common traveller beares thereon his packe : 

I therefore leave the Asse for feare he doubt, 

Or others for him, that I should him flout. 

But as the Serpent (not the goose) that hisses, 

So is he wise, and equald with Ulysses ; 

Who townes of many men hath seene & manners : 

The more was he beholding to the tanners. 

If he had but one onely paire of shoes. 



Hugo Then how much leather thinke ye could he loose? 

Holland. He hath scene Paris garden and the Lions, 
And Paris Garden of all France, and Lyons, 
With all the townes that lye twixt this and Venice, 
Where (howbeit some say he played at tennis) 
He more prevaild against the xcoriate Jewes, 
Then Broughton could, or twenty more such Hughs, 
And yet but for one petty poore misprision, 
He was nigh made one of the Circumcision. 
But holla, that s a part that must be privy ; 
Now go we to the towne of learned Livy. 
Where being before Licentiat, he proceeded 
To beg like a poore Paduan, when he needed. 
Then through Vicenza and Brescia doth he goe 
Among the Cogleons, those of Bergomo. 
Who made him lye in litter like a Villan : 
Then viewes he, in his case of fustaine, Milan. 
(Not Milan fustaine though) yet such a trophae 
As might become a Soldan or a Sophe. 
Which in his frontispice he doth extoll, 
Like those of Marius in Romes Capitoll. 
And well the case was lin d with poudred Ermin. 
Though others thinke it was some stranger vermin. 
Now should I tell his travels with the Dutch, 
But that my Muse doth feare to drinke too much. 
For, if the water of poore Hippocrene 
Doth make her drunke, what wil the wine of Rhene? 
Both Heidelberg I passe, and the great hogshead, 
Which he bestrid him selfe, like a great hogs-head. 
Who list the paines or pleasure take to looke, 
Shall this and more finde printed in the booke. 
Whose merits here I will no further raise : 
That were my friend to sell, and not to praise. 
Perhaps I know some that have seene the Turke, 
Yet would be whipt ere they wrote such a worke. 
But what a volume here will rise anone, 
When he hath seene both Turke and Prester John? 
Enough : yet in his Crudities behoofe, 



This will I say : It is a booke of proofe. Hugo 

Wherein himselfe appeares (I will be plaine) Hoi/and. 

No foole in print, nor yet a knave in graine. 

A Parallell betweene Don Ulysses of Ithaca and 
Don Coryate of Odcombe. 

The Preamble to the Parallell. 

IF morall Plutarch had done nothing else, 
Yet would we praise him for his parallels ; 
Where he with every Greeke doth match a Roman. 
I that would be his Ape, can fancie no man, 
(Though learned Hackluyt hath set many forth) 
Amongst our English, who for wit and worth 
May be compared with the Ithacan, 
Unlesse that Brute the brave Odcombian. 
What do you tell me of your Drakes or Candishes ; 
We never were beholding to their standishes. 
This man hath manners seene, and men outlandish ; 
And writ the same : so did not Drake nor Candish. 
If Drake be famous because he did wander 
About the Seas, Tom may be well a Gander, 
That ravisheth with his harmonious quill 
More eares than any Swan on Parnasse hill. 

The Parallell it selfe. 

ULysses was a merry Greeke they say, 
So Tom is, and the Greeker of the tway. 
Ulysses left at home an aged Syre, 
And Tom an aged mother by the fyre. 
Ulysses was an Islander I trow, 
How then? I pray you is not Coryate so? 
Perhaps Ulysses did in wit excell, 
Our Coryate though doth of more learning smell. 
Ulysses had a ship of no great bulke, 
And Coryate went to Calais in a hulke. 
Ulysses in the Trojan horse was hid, 
The Heidelbergian barrell Tom bestrid. 



Hugo Good harnesse did Ulysses guarde and grace, 

Holland. Where Coryate nought had but a fustian case. 

Ulysses hardly from his Circe sluncke, 
As hardly Tom from his Venetian Puncke. 
By land Ulysses in a Chariot rode, 
And Coryate in a Cart, the greater lode. 
Ulysses with sterne Ajax had to doe, 
With the Dutch Boore so had poore Coryate too. 
At home left Ulix store of beasts and chattell, 
And Coryate home came guarded with more cattell. 
Ulysses us d to drinke the ^Ethiop wine, 
With whitson-ale his cap doth Coryate line. 
Just twenty yeares Ulysses with his Greeks 
Did wander : Coryate just as many weeks. 
Ulysses all that while had but one carvell, 
Tom but one paire of shoes, the greater marvell. 
Minerva holpe Ulysses at a lift, 
And Pacience Coryate, for there was no * shift. 
Ulysses heard no Syren sing : nor Coryate 
The Jew, least his praepuce might prove excoriate. 
Ulysses had a wife to lust unprone, 
But Coryate had a chaster, having none. 
Ulysses seem d a beggar all to torne, 
So Coryate did ; and was I dare be sworne. 
Ulysses in his travell builded Flushing, 
Where Coryate ending, or e the Sea came brushing. 
One Homer only sung Ulysses praise, 
But Coryats all the Poets of our daies. 

The Epilogue of the Parallel. 

TAke Reader with a laughing looke 
This Odcome new-come well-come booke. 
Looke with the like thou take these parallels, 
In sober sadnesse we shall marre all else. 
For Coryate with us both will quarrell, 
And teare himselfe out of his parell. 

* Because he came from Venice with one shirt. 



In each point though they doe not jumpe, Hugo 

I trust they doe yet in the lumpe. 

Nor would I joyne them head and feete ; 

Lines parallel! doe never meete. 

Yet one day meete may thou and I, 

And laugh with Coryate ere we die. 

Englyn un-odl inion. 

YNod y mourglod ae am arglwydh mawr, 
* Hwuad-mor cyfarwydh : 
Dymma nawr DWM un arwydh, 
Ond thydan gwaithlhwdwn gwydh? 

Ad Janum Harringtonum Badensem, Equitem ; 
non Equitem Badensem, sed auratum. 

These Latin verses following were written to be sent to 
the worthy and learned Knight above-named, by the 
Author of the former, for the obtayning of his 
encomiasticks upon my booke : but though they never 
came to that worthy Knights hands, I have thought 
good to insert them here, because it was the authors 
pleasure to have them printed with the rest of his 

OBone, cui translatus olet miserabilis Ajax, 
Qui sat es ingenio & carmine notus eques. 
Inficiat furui vis ne fumosa Tobacci, 

Neu piper attactu mordeat acre suo : 
Ne scombros metuant (metuunt quoque carmina scombros) 

Thusue gravi piceum condat odore rogum. 
His concede precor folliis, ferventer f solentis 
Sub Clypeo Ajacis posse latere tui. 

Explicit Hugo Holland, 

* Sir Francis Drake. 

f Itane amicum tuum perstringes (mi Hollande) cum tuis Mephiticis 
& graveolentibus facetiis ? num tu Stercutio dedicabis, quas alii mei 
amici Musis & Palladi consecrant ? absit, absit. 

c. c. 49 D 


Incipit Robertas Riccomontanus. 

Robert Rich- s~*\ Oryate, thou Coryphoeus of Odcombe Whitson-Ale, 
v_>< Who since art our Choregus o er many a hill and 

dale : 

Thy skill in Artes and Armes doe to us evenly show, 
As thou art borne to Mars, so to Mercurio. 
Others write bookes prophane, and others that are holy, 
But thine a Dosis is against all Melancholy : 
A worke of worth, that doth all other workes out-pace 
A furlong at the least, thou needst not bate an ace. 
A booke of price twill be, if ever there were any, 
A hundred Sowses is thy due, thou shalt not bate a peny. 
The mayor of Hartlepoole upon a day, 
Hearing King Harry was to come that way, 
Put on s considering cap, and Kendall gowne, 
Consulting with his brethren of the Towne, 
What gift they should present as he came by : 
A Skatefish (quoth his Councell) sweet and dry : 
Nay (quoth the Mayor) weele give him halfe one more : 
Soft (quoth another) now your mouth runnes or e : 
" As there Masse Mayor, who could not doe but ore-doe, 
" So Coryate here, who tels us all, and more * too : 
Of mounts, of founts, of rockes, of stockes, of stones, 
Of Boores, of whoores, of tombes, of dead mens bones, 
Of bowers, of towers, and many a stately steeple, 
Helvetians, Rhetians, and many an uncouth people : 
Nothing escapes his note, that s worth due observation, 
The Gallowes scapes him not without due salutation. 
Speake O thou clocke at Strasbourg, and stones at Foun- 


If Coryate you forget, and not your wonders shew : 
Weepe Rhenish drops O Palsgraves Tun, if thou be here 


No, no, he hath thee hoopt so well, thy ribbes will n ere 
be rotten. 

* Not more than truth, but more then other travellers. 

For the Author hath written of some of speciall note in his booke. 



The Ladyes of Lubricity that live in the Bordello Robert 

Are painted in their proper hew by him that is sans mond - 

fellow : 
He lively them decyphereth, he doth them nought for- 


He strips them to their petticotes, he hits them to a haire. 
Who to refresh his graver Muse did often walke per 

Sometimes to heare the Ciarlatans, and sometimes to the 


And yet herein my ventrous Sir, ywis yee were too curious, 
Such places oftentimes doe make most temperate men 

most furious. 

And who dare sweare for you, I pray, that went for satis 

(You say your selfe) and so may be evicted of the action ? 
So that by your confession, sans verdict of a Jurie, 
In each place else you shew your wit, but there you shew d 

your fury. 
Say what you list, sweare and protest, for all this great 

It will be said, at least be guest, you were the Puncks 

And so you l lose great store of those, whose verse may 

give you glory, 

Especially the female frye, the learned Signiorie. 
You le have none such to praise you much : they will 

suspect the wench 
Hath turn d your Greeke and Latin both into a perfect 

Change then thy word (to satisfie) being all one with 


And then thy worke Pie dignifie, to be ad omnia quare. 
For who could say so much as thou (whereof thine be the 


Or of the refractary Jew, or of the Mounte-bankes ? 
The stubborne Jew (if it be true) was by thee catechized 
At Venice : which at Rome is since by Bellarmine baptized. 


Rolen Rich- For sure that Tew from Venice came, we finde it so 


In late Gazettas : which or lies, or trifles ne er afforded. 
In which great act to doome aright, and not as partials, 
The greater share is Coryats, the lesse the Cardinals. 
Now, who shal reade thy worthy work, and heare thy large 

Will sweare thou knowst the Mountebanks, and tracest al 

their courses. 
Thou hitst the naile in all things else aright : But O the 


That caytif kerne, so stout, so sterne, ill thrive he ever 
That capt thee for a bunch of grapes : ten tousand Tivels 

supplant him. 

I see well science hath no foeman nisi ignorantem. 
Hadst thou had courage to thy skill, and with this Gyant 

(But 6 such skill and courage both in one can not be 

Thou mightst with Guy and Bevis bold, in martial praise 

have shared, 
And Odcombe might with Hampton, & with Warwick 

have compared. 
Oh then my Muse a higher pitch had flowen, and had 

thee set 

All pari to Sir Lancelot tho, before Sir Dagonnet. 
Yet brave I grant is thy revenge for that his grosse abuse, 
Thy poynant pen hath stab d him in, O piercing launce of 

Goose : 
Record we in the rolle of fame the Goose and Oxe 


Whose shoes did beare him hence, and home, O ever 
lasting leather. 
Some newes yee shoes, for you did use with Coryate still 

to be, 
And might us give (if you could speake) some notes as 

well as he. 



Twere meete that now from shoes I go, to socks & slippers Robert Rich- 


And yet its fit I them omit, I finde them not ith Text : 
And one bare word of one bare shirt I hope shall be 

He loves the naked truth too well, such shifting to 

approve : 
For nought feares he back-biters nips, in doublet or in 


He holds them ever as they are, the travellers com 
Couragious Coryate, for one Dutchman that thee sore 

Thou hast a hundred Picquardes slaine, and to the table 

Some men may think that this is strange : well he that list 

may cavell, 
Wise Coryate thinks no luggage light for him that meanes 

to travel!. 
Leave we the baggage then behinde, and to our matter 

turne us, 
As Coryate did, who left at home his socks and his 

For now of wonders must I treate, wast not thinke you a 

To goe two thousand miles at least, in five months space, 

not under? 
And of strange notes, foure hundred leaves, twenty 

thousand lines to write, 

This farre surpasseth Hercules his fifty in a night. 
Besides, rare man he tell you can the manners of each 

Yet, t understand one word they speake, he never was in 

Then lanch thee forth (thou man of worth) when this thy 

worke is done 
According to thy great designe, as far as shines the 




Robert Rich- And bring us notes of all the world, when thou hast past 

it thorow, 

Weele have a caske to put them in, shall put downe 

Explicit Robertus Riccomontanus. 

Incipit Gualterus Quin. 
In lode del 1 Autore. 
La Cornamusa di Gualtero Quin. 

Walter Quin. OE 1 gran guerrier, chi tanto fece & scrisse, 

O Se stesso, e 1 mondo insieme ingarbugliando, 
Per commandar a tutti, mentre ei visse, 
De suoi gran vanti andava trionfando ; 

Ben e ragion Tom-asino galante, 
Ch altiero e bravo tu ti pavoneggi, 
Poiche nel far, e scriver stravagante. 
Vinci il gran Giulio, non che lo pareggi, 

Di quel ch egli hebbe in parecchi anni oprato 
Con schiere armate, scrisse un libriccivolo : 
Ma dal cervello tuo un libraccio e nato 
Di quel, c hai fatto in pochi mesi solo : 

Latino & Greco sapeva esso assai ; 
Ma del 1 Inglese era affatto ignorante : 
To 1 vinci in questo, e pur jd avanzo sai 
Greco e Latino, per far un Pedante. 

Un gran rumor e terribil fracasso 
Fece ei, per metter sotto sopra il mondo : 
Di dar da rider con solazzo & spasso 
A tutti, fu de tuoi dissegni il fondo. 

Molte migliaia di schiere nemiche 
Morir ei fe con lancie, dardi, e stocchi : 
Mai non ti piacquer Archibugi, 6 Piche, 
Ne Morte alcuna, fuor che de pidocchi : 

Quei chi scamparon 1 unghie tue prigioni 
Portasti addosso : come quel guerriero 
Di squadre morte i Prencipi & padroni 



Menossi avanti trionsante e altiero. Walter Quin. 

Ei vincitor ascese in Campidoglio, 
Con pompa e boria, in carro trionfale : 
Contadinesco carro senza orgoglio 
Per trionfar ti piacque ; manco male. 

Colui mostrando, come andava ratto 
Nel vincer, scrisse, lo venni, viddi, vinsi : 
L hai detto meglio tu vincendo il patto, 
Che ti fe scorrer e quinci, e costinci. 

Francia, Lamagna, Italia, Helvetia, Rhetia 
Non scorse gia senza armi quel bravaccio ; 
Come scorresti tu ratto a Venetia, 
E indietro a casa tua con poco impaccio. 

Solo un Vilan Tedesco, imbriaco, e tristo, 
Con bastonate ben ti pesto gli ossi : 
Forse ch ei sceso dal vecchio Ariovisto 
Di casa Giulia penso che tu fossi. 

Ma per disgratia se n valor attivo 
A Giulio alcun soprate desse il vanto ; 
Egli e pur forza ch in valor passive 
Voto e sentenza egli dia dal tuo canto. 

Ne suoi viaggi gran fatica ei prese, 
Non pero senza Cavai, Muli, & Cocchi : 
Tu sempre andavi a pie, mal in arnese. 
Vincendo i cingani, staffieri, & scrocchi. 

Elquel ch a schivo hauria per morbidezza, 
Bastotti un par di scarpe in quel viaggio, 
Che rattoppasti spesso con destrezza ; 
Di Lesinesca industria vero saggio. 

Questa lode anc hai di buon Lesinante 
(Di che quel prodigo non fu mai degno) 
Ch una camiscia & veste, da buon fante : 
Sola portasti allhor senza aschio, 6 sdegno, 

Parsa a lui peste faria la tua rogna, 
Che nel grattarla dandoti solazzo, 
Ballar ti fe come al suon di sampogna, 
O Violin di quel francese pazzo. 

L haurian ucciso i tuoi stenti, & disagi 


Walter Quit!. 



Nel mangiar, bever, dormir, appiccarti 
Pulci, pidocchi, & cimici malvagi, 
Guastar le gambe, e 1 culo scorticarti : 

Nel travagliar col corpo il capo ancora, 
Quindi il cervello ogn hora lambicando ; 
Per ciascun passo, che pria facesti, ora 
Righe altretante dal cervel stillando. 

S ei quest! affanni mai sofferti haurebbe, 
Manco gl affronti, ente, & scorni, ch omai 
Non senti sordo & cieco, soffrirebbe ; 
Trastullo a te si fan pur questi guai. 

Poiche in oprar, dungue, en patir 1 agguagli, 
Anzi lo vinci, Tom-asino invitto, 
Qual Cornamusa si gonfi, & travagli, 
Chi uvol cantarti con decoro & dritto. 

Explicit Gualterus Quin. 

Incipit Christophorus Brooke Eboracensis. 

As for these titles that follow, bestowed upon me by 
this worthy Gentleman, I would have thee know (reader) 
that as I acknowledge my selfe utterly unworthy of them, 
so I meant to have suppressed and concealed them, but 
that it is the Authors pleasure to prefixe them before his 
verses. Therefore for obeying of his will I have thought 
good, much against mine owne will, to expresse them in 
this place, even these. 

To the no lesse learned, then wise and discreete 
Gentleman, Mr. THOMAS CORYATE, 

In some few moneths travell borne & brought up to 

what you see viz. : 

To be the delight of a world of noble wits, 

To be a shame to all Authors, as the Gout and Quartan 
Feaver have bene to all Physitians. 

This plaine song sendeth CHRISTOPHER BROOKE, 

his poore friend, to attend the 



descant of his famous booke, through all Hands, Christopher 
Tongues, Arts, Trades, Mysteries, and 
Occupations whatsoever. 

THe subtle Greeke Ulysses needs must travell, 
Ten years, forsooth, over much sand and gravell, 
And many Cities see, and manners know, 
Before there could be writ a booke or two 
Of his adventures : and he travel d still 
(Else there are lyars) sore against his will : 
But this rare English-Latine-Grecian, 
Of Orators and Authors the blacke Swan, 
A voluntarie journey undertooke 
Of scarce sixe moneths, and yet hath writ a booke 
Bigger than Homers, and (though writ in prose) 
As full of poetry, spite of Homers nose. 
If he liv d now that in Darius Casket 
Plac d the poore Iliad s, he had bought a Basket 
Of richer stuffe to intombe thy volume large, 
Which thou (O noble Tom) at thine own charge 
Art pleas d to print. But thou needst not repent 
Of this thy bitter cost ; for thy brave Precedent 
Great Caesar is, who penned his owne gestes, 
And (as some write) recited them at feastes. 
And at s owne charge had printed them they say, 
If printing had bene used at that day. 
The Presse hath spent the three for one you got 
At your returne : whats that ? poore thing God wot. 
Manure this land still with such bookes my friend, 
And you shall be paid for it in the end. 
For I (me thinkes) see how men strive to carry 
This Joviall Journal! into each Library. 
And we ere long shall well perceive your wit, 
(Grave learned Bodley) by your placing it. 
Therefore lanch forth great booke like Ship of fame. 
Th Hopewell of Odcombe thou shalt have to name. 

Explicit Christophorus Brooke Eboracensis. 


John Hoikins. 


Incipit Joannes Hoskins. 

Cabalistical Verses, which by Transposition of Words, 
Syllables, and Letters, make excellent Sense, otherwise 


In laudem Authoris. 

EVen as the waves of brainlesse butter d fish, 
With bugle home writ in the Hebrew tongue, 
Fuming up flounders like a chafing-dish, 
That looks asquint upon a Three-mans song : 
Or as your equinoctiall pasticrust 
Projecting out a purple chariot wheele, 
Doth squeeze the spheares, and intimate the dust, 
The dust which force of argument doth feele : 
Even so this Author, this *Gymnosophist, 
Whom no delight of travels toyle dismaies, 
Shall sympathize (thinke reader what thou list) 
Crownd with a quinsill tipt with marble praise. 



Encomiological Antispasticks, 

Consisting of Epitrits, the fourth in the first 
syzugie, which the vulgar call Phaleuciac 
hendecasyllables ; trimeters Catalectics with 
Antispastic Asclepiads, trimeters Acatalectics 
consisting of two dactylicall commaes of some 
learned named Choriambicks, both together 
dicoli distrophi, rythmicall and hyperrythmi- 
call, amphibologicall, dedicated to the un 
declinable memory of the autarkesticall 
Coryate, the only true travelling Porcupen 
of England. 

* This word Gymnosophist is derived from two 
yv/zvos and cro^tcmjs, which signifie a naked sophister. 

Greeke words 

, . And he there 

fore cals the Author so, because one day he went without a shirt at 
Basil, while it was washing. 



Also there is this tune added to the verses, and pricked John Hosklns. 
according to the forme of Musicke to be sung by those 
that are so disposed. 


-N i 

N h 


Jf \j , 






f> . 

J z 


Admired Coryate, who like a Porcupen, Dost 

shew prodigious things to thy countrimen. 

ADmired Coryate, who like a Porcupen 
Dost shew prodigious things to thy countrimen. 
As that beast when he kils doth use his owne darts, 
So doe thy prettie quils make holes in our hearts. 
That beast lives of other company destitute, 
So wentest thou alone every way absolute. 
That beast creepeth afoote, nee absque pennis, 
So didst thou trot a journey hence to Venice. 
Live long foe to thy foe fierce as a Porcupen, 
Live long friend to thy friend kinde as a Porcupen. 
Henceforth adde to thy crest an armed Histrix, 
Since thy carriage hath resembled his tricks. 

The same in Latin. 

SE jaculo, sese pharetra, sese utitur arcu,* 
In reliquas Histrix dum parat arma feras. 
Se comite ad Venetam tendens Coriatius urbem, 

Se duce, se curru, se fuit, usus equo. 
Et decantat iter se nunc authore stupendum, 

Nee minus a reditu se quoque teste sapit. 
Ergo non immerito peregrinans dicitur Histrix, 
Et laudes a se, non aliunde capit. 

* Claudian ad Stymphalum. 


John Hoskins. IVT^ more but so, I heard the crie, 

-L l And like an old hound in came I 
To make it fuller, though I finde 
My mouth decayes much in this kind. 
The cry was this, they cri de by millions, 
Messengers, Curriers, and Postillians, 
Now out alas we are undone 
To heare of Coryats payre of sho ne ; 
There is no newes we are more sorry at 
Then this strange newes of *Rawbone Coryate. 
Who like a Unicorne went to Venice, 
And drinking neither Sack nor Rhenish, 
Home in one payre of shoes did trample, 
A fearefull and a strange example. 
But whats the newes of learned people 
In Pauls Churchyard & neere Pauls steeple? 
Hang up his shoes on top of Powles, 
Tyed to his name in parchment rowles, 
That may be read most legibly 
In Tuttlefields and Finsbury. 
Fame is but winde, thence winde may blow it 
So farre that all the world may know it : 
From Mexico and from Peru 
To China and to Cambalu : 
If the wind serve, it may have lucke 
To passe by South to the bird Rucke. 
Greater then the Stymphalides 
That hid the Sunne from Hercules. 
And if fames wings chance not to freeze, 
It may passe North ninetie degrees, 
Beyond Meta incognita, 
Where though there be no hpllyday, 
Nor Christen people for to tell it, 
Horrible Beares and Whales may smell it. 
Thence may it on the Northern seas, 
On foote walke to the Antipodes, 

* A great Gyant swift on foote, of whom mention is in Poly- 



Whose feete against our feete do pace J hn Hoskms. 

To keepe the centre in his place. 

But when those fellowes that do wonder 

As we at them, how we go under 

From clime to clime, and tongue to tongue, 

Throughout their hemispheare along, 

Have tost these words as bals at tennis, 

Tom Coryate went on foote from Venice. 

This travelling fame, this walking sound 

Must needs come home in coming round, 

So that we shall cry out upon him, 

His fame in travell hath outgone him. 

When all have talked, and time hath tried him, 

Yet Coryate will be semper idem. 

SCilicet haud animum coeli mutatio mutat, 
Et patriam fugiens se quoque nemo fugit. 
Thersites Phrygiis Thersites perstat in oris, 

Nee Plato in j^Egypto desinit esse Plato. 
Nee Thomas * Tomyris visis remigrabit ab Indis, 

Nee f Cordatus erit qui Coriatus erat. 
When all have talked, and time hath tri de him, 
Yet Coryate will be semper idem. 

Explicit Joannes Hoskins. 

* Nee vir peregrinans faemina, nee Anglus Romanus fiet. 
1 1 meane egregi cordatus homo Catus ./Elius Sextus. 

[Incipit Joannes 


Incipit Joannes Pawlet de George Henton. 

John Pawlet. These ensuing verses lately sent unto me by my right 
worshipful and generose countryman and neighbour 
in Somersetshire, Mr. John Pawlet of George Henton, 
had such a glorious title prefixed before them, that I 
ment to have excluded it out of my booke, because I 
am altogether unworthy of those Panegyricke termes. 
But because this worthy Gentleman doth crave to have 
it placed before his lines, I doe with his elegant verses 
present the same also unto thee, viz. 

To the Darling of the MUSES and Minion 
of the GRACES, 

My deare Country-man and friend, 
M. THOMAS CORYATE, of Odcombe, 

Ome call thee Homer by comparison ; 
Comparisons are odious, I will none : 
But call thee (as thou art) Tom Coryate, 
That is ; the Man the World doth wonder at. 
Whose Braine-pan hath more Pan then Braine by ods, 
To make thee all Pan with the semi-gods. 
Which pan, when thy fleete wits a wandring goe, 
Is *rung to keepe the swarme together so. 
So (recollected) thou with them did st flie 
To the worlds Gardens, France and Italic, 
Where (like a Bee, from every honeyed floure) 
The f oddest sweets did st sucke ; which makes thee scowre 
At home for life : where, in a II Combe as odde 
Thou squirtst it, to feede those that flie abrode. 

Explicit Joannes Pawlet. 

* Discretion beates upon his braine-pan to keepe wits together. 

t That is, choisest. 

|| Odcombe, the place of his birth ; the hungry aire whereof first 
digested his Crudities, as he himselfe affirmes in his Title-page of this 
present worke. 




Incipit Lionel Cranfield. 

GReat laude deserves the Author of this worke, Lionel Cran- 

Who saw the French, Dutch, Lombard, Jew, & 

Turke ; 

But speakes not any of their tongues as yet, 
For who in five months can attaine to it ? 
Short was his time, although his booke be long, 
Which shewes much wit, and memory more strong : 
An yron memory ; for who but he 
Could glew together such a rhapsodic 
Of pretious things? as towers, steeples, rocks, 
Tombes, theaters, the gallowes, bels, and clocks, 
Mules, Asses, Arsenals, Churches, gates, Townes, 
Th alpine mountaines, Cortezans and Dutch clownes. 
What man before hath writ so punctually 
To his eternall fame his journeys story ? 
And as he is the first that I can finde, 
So will he be the last of this rare kinde, 
Me thinks when on his booke I cast my eies, 
I see a shop repleate with merchandize, 
And how the owner jelous of his fame, 
With pretious matter garnisheth the same. 
Many good parts he hath, no man too much 
Can them commend, some few Pie only touch. 
He Greeke and Latin speakes with greater ease 
Then hogs eat akornes, or tame pigeons pease : 
His ferret eies doe plod so on his booke, 
As makes his lookes worse than a testie cooke. 
His tongue and feete are swifter then a flight, 
Yet both are glad when day resignes to night. 
He is not proud, his nature soft and milde, 
His complements are long, his lookes are wilde : 
Patient enough, but oh his action 
Of great effect to move and stirre up passion. 
Odcombe be proude of thy odde Coryate, 
Borne to be great, and gracious with the State ; 



Lionel Cran- How much I him well wish let this suffice, 
field. j_j- s b 00 k. e kegj. s hewes that he is deeply wise. 

Explicit Lionel Cranfield. 

Incipit Joannes Sutclin. 

John Sutclin. T T T^Hether I thee shall either praise or pitty, 
VV My senses at a great Dilemma are : 
For when I thinke how thou hast travaild farre. 
Canst Greeke and Latin speake, art curteous, witty, 
I these in thee and thee for them commend ; 
But when I thinke how thou false friends to keepe 
Dost weare thy body, and dost leese thy sleepe, 
I thee then pity and doe discommend. 
Thy feete have gone a painfull pilgrimage, 
Thou many nights dost wrong thy hands and eyes 
In writing of thy long Apologies ; 
Thy tongue is all the day thy restlesse page. 
For shame intreate them better, I this crave, 
So they more ease, and thou more wit shalt have. 

Explicit Joannes Sutclin. 

Incipit Inigo Jones. All Mol. Mag. 

Tho. Cor. 

Inigo Jones. /^\Dde is the * Combe from whence this Cocke did come, 
\J That Crowed in Venice gainst the skinlesse Jewes, 
Who gave him th entertainment of Tom Drum ; 
Yet he undaunted slipt into the stewes 
For learnings cause ; and in his Atticke rage 
JTrod a tough hen of thirty yeares of age. 

Enough of this ; all pens in this doe travell 
To tracke thy steps, who Proteus like dost varie 

* This is a figure called by the Grecians r/^cris, that is, a division, 
when the word is so divided asunder as here : Odde is the Combe for 
Odcombe is the place from whence &c. as in Ennius, saxo cere com- 
minuit brum, for cerebrum. 

I Beleeve him not Reader. Reade my Apologie in my discourse 
of the Venetian Cortezans, p. 270. 



Thy shape to place, the home-borne Muse to gravell. Iai ff> Jones - 
For though in Venice thou not long didst tarrie, 
Yet thou the Italian soule so soone couldst steale, 
As in that time thou eat st but one good meale. 

For France alas how soone (but that thou scornedst) 

Couldst thou have starch d thy beard, ruffl d thy hose? 

Worne a foule shirt twelve weekes, and as thou journedst, 

Sung Falaliro s through thy Persian nose ? 

For faces, cringes, and a saltlesse jest, 

And beene as scab d a Monsieur as the best. 

Next to the sober Dutch I turn my tale, 

Who doe in earnest write thee Latin letters, 

And thou in good pot paper ne re didst faile 

To answere them ; so are you neither debters. 

But sympathize in all, save when thou drink st 

Thou mak st a * crab-tree face, shak st head, and wink st. 

Last, to thy booke the Cordiail of sad mindes, 
Or rather Cullis of our Od-combe Cocke 
Sodden in travell, which the Critique findes 
The best restorer next your Venice smocke. 
This booke who scornes to buy, or on it looke, 
May he at Sessions crave, and want his booke. 

Explicit Inigo Jones. 

Incipit Georgius Sydenham 

Upon the cloying Crudities, chewed in the braines of the George Syden- 
Author, and cast up in the presse of the Printer, by the 
sole travell and proper charge of CORDATE CORYATE, 
my conceited Country-man and Neighbour. 

COuld any one have done this but thy selfe, 
O thou most peerlesse most renowned elfe ? 
Regardlesse of thy stockings and of thy shoes, 
Afoote to wander through a vale of woes ; 

* The modesty of the Author being such, and his temperance in 
drinking, that he sometimes frowneth when a healthe is drunke unto him. 

C. C. 65 E 


George Sy den- Where though thou venturd st for to walke alone 
Like Hercules ; so tis of Coryate knowne, 
That he did n ere in all his journey flie once 
From Dogs, from Beares, from Buls, nor yet from 


In France I heard thou meeting with a Boare, 
(I doe but tell it as twas told before) 
His fearfull head thy sword at one blow cuts 
So cruelly, that out came all his guts. 
At Heydelberg thou didst bestride the Tunne, 
And boldly badst the bravest Dutchmans Sonne 
Come sit with thee, and drinke untill there were 
Not left a drop for any other there. 
An act worthy thee, save who saw thee ride 
Twixt Odcombe crosse and Yevill, and bestride 
Like Alexander Phillips horse, would sweare 
Thy former deeds with this might not compare. 
Comming to Venice, thy unmatched feature 
Made straight a wench thinke thee a lovelier creature 
Then thou thoughtst Mary, when thou knowest, poore 


How glad thou wert to come and kisse her *bomme, 
These things of travellers all make me to say, 
That wandering Coryate beares the bell away. 
Now being returnd unto thy native land, 
Here thou hast drawne with thine owne curious hand 
A worke more strangly praised, and by more, 
Then ever worke has yet by many a score : 
A worke that all the world hath longd to see, 
And now send post to fetch this raritie. 
A worke that hath long time expected beene, 
And now beyond all expectation scene ; 
A worke that serves men for all kind of uses, 
Mistake me not, I meane not for abuses ; 
A worke that none but thine one selfe could handle, 
Nor thou have done it without many a candle : 

* Her cheeke or hand ; a Chaucerisme. 


A worke that will eternize thee till God t come, George Syden- 

And for thy sake thy famous Parish Odcombe. ham 

Explicit Georgius Sydenham Brimptoniensis. 

Incipit Robertus Halswell. 

HAdst thou bin still in travell, ne re brought forth, Robert Hah- 
How great had bin thy praise, how great thy worth ? we 
Dame Admiration hath but our true mother, 
Peruse this worke, and thou shalt finde her brother. 

Explicit Robertus Halswell. 

Incipit Joannes Gyfford. 

In praise of the Praise-transcending (mine old 

IF any aske, in verse what soare I at ? John Gyfford. 

My Muse replies : The praise of Coryate. 
He, who the immense straight passing over 
Twixt sandie Calais, and twixt chalkie Dover, 
With observations strange doth edge you on, 
To steale the fruits of many a region. 
And teacheth, without travaile, how to travell, 
O re spuing billowes, and o re gavlling gravell. 
Mount then Pierian Birds, or proudly strut, 
In praise of s braine, more fresh then freshest nut. 

Again, for old acquaintance. 

Wit now or never helpe me to renowne 
The oddest Combe that Od-combe ere did crowne : 
The wonder of this age, which doth admire 
How Travell, Wit, and Art do all conspire 
To make him Table-talke, and pointed at, 
Filling mens mouthes, and eyes with Coryate. 
And yet he is to none he lives among, 
Moate in their eyes, nor blister on their tongue, 

f Till Doomes day. 


John Gyfford. Nay, he s a spectacle unto all eyes 

That makes great things of small (in wordy wise!) 

And unto tongues, most idle in their talking, 

Hee s like Greeke wine, that sets them still a walking. 

Never did Time, since first he held the Sithe, 

Produce Art such a Cutter of Queene-hithe. 

Wee stile him so ; because that Hithe, or Banke, 

Whereon the Queeenes of Art their Pupils ranke 

Doth yeeld such Cutters, that is, such as are 

The most acute, as thou art (Tom) and spare. 

For proofe whereof, loe here a booke as full 

Of Cut-worke, as of hot braines is his Scull. 

Heere he cuts out with sharpest edge of wit, 

(That * blunts when ought that s hard doth meete with it) 

Many a faire Collop from the CONTINENT, 

To broyle on wits fire, Trav lers to content. 

Of France he makes a rasher on the coales : 

And casts such salt of wit into her holes, 

That he doth make it sav rie to the pallet 

Of Pilgrims, travelling with bag and wallet. 

But this, (O this) I muse at most (perchance) 

That thou should st note such pretty things in France ; 

Sith (when I crost it in my wandrings) 

I could not see the same for greater things. 

But twas my fault such small things to decline, 

That might have made my fame as huge as thine. 

Of Italy, and all things (every way) 

That lie in compasse of five months survay, 

He so hath chopt it out to us in parts 

(With liberall pen, the toole of liberall Arts) 

That, in each part, we see, as in a streame 

(O eloquence) the lively face of them. 

Munster put up thy pen, thou art put downe 
By Odcombs issue ; then come Combe his crowne : 
Or stroke him on the head for shewing thee 
Each Gallowesf hid in thy Cosmographie. 

* Through the subtil finesse of the edge. 

f Munster shewes not where one Gallowes stands in all his Booke. 



Pomponius Mela, and Ortelius, 
Nay, Plinie, with thy bookes voluminous, 
Goe, get ye gone, or lowly to him fall ; 
For his now Goose-quill farre out-flies yee all. 
Well maist thou Germany upon him spue, 
That to thy stomacke bitter is as Rue. 
Sith he obscures the glory of thy men 
That glorifi d thee with their grosser pen : 
For he is more particular by ods 
In his descriptions, nay, he turnes the clods 
Of every soyle to see what underlies, 
And that expresseth, be it wormes, or flies : 
And, not a Jebit, wheele, nor ought beside 
Whereon (for some offence) a man hath di de, 
If neere his walke, (nay though farre off it lay) 
But too t he went, and doth the same display. 

England rejoyce, who now a man hast bred 
That is all wit, and learning, save the head, 
And that s all Sconce the powers of sense to keepe, 
Where they, from wits incursions, safely sleepe. 
Then O yee Gallants of the English Court, 
Let Coryats travels travaile you with sport. 
And as great Alexander, Homer making 
His pillowes bolster (for his pleasure waking) 
Made sport with him : so, let our Coryats worke 
Under your bolster or your buttons lurke 
To sport, and pleasure you by night and day ; 
For, tis a Sermon better then a play. 
Sermon we call it, sith it is a speech 
Of all that lay within his travels reach. 
Then to this Sermon of those holy things 
(For he (among) doth talke of God and Kings) 
If any be dispos d t apply their care, 
Or that about them rather it would beare, 
They shall be sav d from woe, in words of mirth, 
By Coryats booke, his wits sole Heaven on Earth. 

Explicit Joannes Gyfford. 

Q 1 


Incipit Richardus Corbet. 

Richard Spectatissimo, punctisque omnibus dignissimo, Thomae 
Corbet. Coryato de Odcombe, Peregrinanti, Pedestris ordinis, 
Equestris famae. 

|U6d mare transieris, quod rura urbesque Pedester, 

Jamque colat reduces patria laeta pedes : 
Quodque idem numero tibi calceus haeret, & illo 

Cum corio redeas quo coriatus abis : 
Fatum omenque tui miramur nominis, ex quo 

Calcibus & soleis fluxit aluta tuis. 
Nam quicunque eadem vestigia tentat, opinor 
Excoriatus erit, ni Coriatus eat. 

In librum suum. 

De te pollicitus librum es, sed in te 
Est magnus tuus hie liber libellus. 

Do not wonder Coryate that thou hast 
Over the Alpes, through France and Savoy past, 
Parch t on thy skin, and foundred in thy feete, 
Faint, thirstie, lowzie, and didst live to see t. 
Though these are Romane suffrings, and do show 
What creatures backe thou hadst, couldst carry so. 
All I admire is thy returne, and how 
Thy slender pasterns could thee beare, when now 
Thy observations with thy braine engendred 
Have stuft thy massie and voluminous head 
With Mountaines, Abbies, Churches, Synagogues, 
Preputiall offals, and Dutch Dialogues : 
A burthen far more grievous than the weight 
Of wine, or sleepe ; more vexing than the freight 
Of fruit and Oysters, which lade many a pate, 
And send folkes crying home from Billingsgate. 
No more shall man with mortar on his head 
Set forwards towards Rome : no. Thou art bred 
A terror to all footmen, and all Porters, 
And all lay-men that will turne Jewes exhorters, 




To flie their conquered trade. Proud England then Richard 
Embrace this * luggage, which the Man of Men Corbet. 

Hath landed here, and change thy Welladay 
Into some home-spun welcome Roundelay. 
Send of this stuffe thy territories thorough 
To Ireland, Wales, and Scottish Edenborough. 
There let this booke be read and understood, 
Where is no theame nor writer halfe so good. 

Explicit Richardus Corbet. 

Incipit Joannes Dones. 

LOe her s a Man, worthy indeede to travell ; John Danes. 

Fat Libian plaines, strangest Chinas gravell. 
For Europe well hath scene him stirre his stumpes : 
Turning his double shoes to simple pumpes. 
And for relation, looke he doth afford 
Almost for every step he tooke a word ; 
What had he done had he ere hug d th Ocean 
With swimming Drake or famous Magelan? 
And kiss d that unturn d fcheeke of our old mother. 
Since so our Europes world he can discover? 
It s not that French which made his || Gyant see 
Those uncouth Hands where words frozen bee, 
Till by the thaw next yeare they r voic t againe ; 
Whose Papagauts, Andouilets, and that traine 
Should be such matter for a Pope to curse 
As he would make ; make ! makes ten times worse, 
And yet so pleasing as shall laughter move : 
And be his vaine, his gaine, his praise, his love. 
Sit not still then, keeping fames trump unblowne : 
But get thee Coryate to some land unknowne. 
From whence proclaim thy wisdom with those wonders, 
Rarer then sommers snowes, or winters thunders. 
And take this praise of that th ast done alreadie : 
Tis pitty ere thy flow should have an eddie. 

Explicit Joannes Dones. 
*I meane his booke. f Terra incognita. | Rablais. || Pantagruel. 



Incipit Joannes Chapman. 

To the Philologe Reader in commendation of our 
Philograecicall writer, Topographicall Tom Coryate 
of Odcombe. 

John Chap- /^\Ur Odde Author hath Comb d his fertile pate 

\J Of his knowledge, that thou mightst learne to prate 

Of travell, his heeles bearing thy head over 

To and againe, from Venice unto Dover 

Though thou sit still, and at his simple charge 

Paies for thy mirth, more then in Graves-end barge, 

Tilt-boate, or the Tavernes thou canst finde : 

For here is musicke without noise or winde. 

A volume which though twill not in thy pocket, 

Yet in thy chest thou maist for ever locke it 

For thy childrens children to reade hereafter, 

Being disposed to travell, or to laughter. 

Nor must thou wonder so much stuffe should come 

From nimble Tom Coryats quill of Odcombe. 

His little eyes set in his living head 

See farther then great eyes in one that s dead ; 

So he a Schollar but at Winchester, 

Doth take mens eares more then did Stone or Chester. 

They could doe nought but rayle, or flatter all ; 

His jests and acts are purely naturall, 

Stuffed full of Greeke and Latin whipt into him, 

Having learning just enough to undoe him, 

Unlesse thou pitty on his charge doe take, 

And helpe buy of his bookes for thine owne sake. 

Here is not stifled much stuffe in few wordes ; 

His * little matter many lines affordes. 

* Mistake me not Reader ; I therefore call it little, as having relation 
to the shortnes of the time that he spent in his travels, viz. five moneths, 
in which short time though an ordinary traveller would have written but 
little ; yet if you reade his book, you may perceive that in that short 
space he found matter enough to affoord many lines of Observations to 
his country-men. 



Buy then, and passe not by the writers glorie, ]ofin Chap- 

That for thy sake hath penn d this learned storie ; 

Wherein he hath three travels undergone, 

To pace, to pen, to print it too alone. 

Few Orators so copiouslie endite, 

So thou but reade, he cares not || what he write. 

He tels all truth, yet is no foole, nor child, 

No lyar ; yet he is the traveller styl d : 

But brought no more tongues home then set him forth. 

Now let his booke for me commend his worth ; 

Of whose full merits I could write much better, 

But that I feare to make his worke my detter. 

Explicit Joannes Chapman. 

Incipit Thomas Campianus. 
Medicinae Doctor. 

In Peragrantissimi, Itinerosissimi, Montiscandentissimique Thomas Cam- 
Peditis, Thomae Coryati, viginti-hebdomadarium Diari- P ian - 
urn, sex pedibus gradiens, partim vero claudicans, 

AD Venetos venit corio Coryatus ab uno 
Vectus, &, ut vectus, pene revectus erat. 
Nave una Dracus sic totum circuit orbem, 

At rediens retulit te Coryate minus. 
Illius undigenas tenet unica charta labores, 
Tota tuos sed vix bibliotheca capit. 

Explicit Thomas Campianus. 

Incipit Gulielmus Fenton. 

SHeeloosht arfraindren convay alefill, William 

Emnanght elslopen seraght emneghtill ; Fenton. 

Ofaghth contraltight erpon emselah, 
Prutalt artennah semank semnelah. 

|| I meane how much he writes of his Observations in forraine 




John Owen. 

In English thus. 

FAire starre of learning which on us dost shine, 
With beauteous lustre and aspectfull cheare, 
Goe lend thy light awhile beyond the line, 
And blaze on the Antipodian hemispheare. 

Explicit Gulielmus Fenton de Knockfergus. 

Incipit Joannes Owen. 

To his ingenious and judicious friend, Mr. Thomas 
Coryate, in commendation of this learned worke. 

An Epigramme. 

CHrysippus colwort, Lucian the Flie 
Commend in learned writ above the skie ; 
Fannius the Nettle, Favorin the Fever ; 
Whose praise with Sunne and Moone endure for ever. 
In spite of some that seeme, but are not holy, 
Erasmus spent much wit in praise of folly. 
Some later wits have writ the Asses praise, 
O that those lads were living in thy daies! 
For if they prais d base things in learned writ, 
How much more would they praise thy learned wit? 


In laudem ejusdem. 

Ot liber hie laudes, quot habet vulpecula fraudes 
Vix humeris tantum sustinet Atlas onus. 

To the Reader, in Praise of this worthy Worke, 
and the Author thereof. 

THe Fox is not so full of wiles 
As this booke full of learned smiles : 
Come seeke, and thou shalt finde in it 
Th Abridgment of Great-Britains wit. 

Explicit Joannes Owen. 


Incipit Petrus Alley. 

CAnnons, Culverings, Sakers, and Sling s, Peter Alky. 

Curriers, Calivers, and warlike Ginnes, 
Breathe forth your bowels, make the aire thunder 
Of Coryate of Odcombe, Somersets wonder. 
Sound Trumpets, beate Drums, sing merrily Fife, 
Bellonas musicke encouragers of strife. 
Awake men of warre, Ulysses appeares 
Whose travels report more dangerous feares. 
Send in your Sentinels, your Corporals call, 
Examine your Serjeants and Officers all. 
Nor Captains, nor Colonels, nor Generals great 
Have made the like journey, or like retreate. 
Twixt Venice and Flushing on foote he went 
With one paire of shoes ere they were halfe spent ; 
Over hils, dales, valleys, and plaines, 
Until his journeys end he attaines. 
But what mishap to him there befell, 
His booke who shall reade, is able to tell. 
His dangerous encounter with cruell Jewes, 
His courting a Cortezan in the Stewes, 
His perils in Cities, Townes, and Dalpes, 
His fearfull climbing of the steepy Alpes ; 
Above the clowdes through the middle region, 
With adventures more then beyond a legion. 
His bickering with the barbarous Boore, 
Was one of the least by many a score ; 
But his politique handling of the clowne 
Is very well worth the setting downe : 
And cunning recoverie of his hat 
With humble haviour and gentle chat. 
Many more hazards he leaves to expresse, 
Only to make the volume the lesse. 
For if he should all to the presse send, 
His booke I doubt will never have an end. 
Then Souldiers sit downe, let your ensignes be torne, 
Coryate hath conquered you with his shoes but halfe worne, 



Peter Alky. Let no man murmur (Pythagoras dixit) 
Gainst Coryats attempts, quae supra vixit 
Et vivat et regnet with a famous stile, 
He and his shoes that trod many a mile. 

Explicit Petrus Alley. 

Incipit Samuel Page. 

To the most worthy Patriot, his most desired friend, 
Mr. Thomas Coryate of Odcombe, Gentleman and 

Samuel Page. T Sing the man, helpe me ye sacred Nine, 
A A fitter taske for you to undertake 
In your owne numbers and immortall line, 
His numberlesse deservings to partake 
To his own natives, whose expecting eye 
Now stands wide open for his historic. 

Drinke your springs drie you Heliconian Dames, 

Here s worke for nine such nines to write his praise, 

Whose variable eye his Odcombe fames 

For strange ingrossements made in so few daies. 

Put all your wits distillement in your pen 

To doe him right that shames all other men. 

No curious ambition moved our friend 
T exhale the secrets of a forraine state, 
He scorn d to make a tongue or two his end 
To come a dipthong home ; it better sate 
With his projection and intendements wise, 
To turne his Microcosme all into eyes. 

His eyes on all have set all eyes on him, 
Whose observations past, whose present pen 
Whose future circlings of this globe, will dimme 
The wondred glory of all other men, 
And give the world in one synoptick quill, 
Full proofe that he is Brittaines Perspicill. 



Goe on brave goer, and grave writer write ; Samuel Page. 

Thy farre-sight eye, and thy long-hearing eares 

Shall prompt thy tongue to speake, thy Pen t indite 

Thy Ulyssaean travels of tenne yeares. 

Thine is thy gentrie, and thy vertue thine, 

But thy experience (Brittaine saith) is mine. 

Thy first walke was the surface and outside 

Of some choyce rarities in stranger earth : 

Thy second travels promise farre and wide 

Of greater wonders yet a nobler birth : 

Thou didst but shave the lands thou saw st of late, 

Thy future walkes will them CX-CORIATE. 

Explicit Samuel Page. 

Incipit Thomas Momford. 

WE11 may his name be called Coryate, Thomas Mm - 

Not of the outward plet or hairie skinne, 
But of the heart or very Cor of wit. 

For his conceits shew that his head s within 
His wit, and in his travels and his works 
Most strange adventures & experience lurks. 

When he fear d theeves in policy he begs, 

To save his purse & himselfe from further danger ; 
He did escape the force of rotten egs, 

Thrown out by whores upon an innocent stranger. 
Upon the monstrous Tun he sate astride, 
In all these things his wit was soundly tri de. 

His worthie deeds can never be exampled, 

That in a stable lodg d himselfe all night, 
Ventred his bones with wild jades to be trampled, 
And there endured many a bloodie bite, 
Our English travellers with all their brags, 
Cannot compare with Mr. Coryats rags. 

How much are we bound to him for his paines, 
That for our sakes as plainely as he can, 


Thomas Mom- 



Writes all these things, not for the hope of games, 
But to the capacitie of an English man. 
He might as well have set us all to seeke, 
If (as he speakes) he had writ his mind in Greeke. 

Explicit Thomas Momford. 

Incipit Thomas Bastard. 

PUt downe, put downe Tom Coryate 
Our latest rares, which glory not ; 
Since we thy spials did peruse 
Fraught with the quintessence of newes. 
On several subjects thou has grated, 
Of men, of bookes yet unrelated. 
There s nothing left for traveller, 
Nor for the timmest Cavalier 
For table talke, in my poore sense 
Thou put s downe all intelligence. 
The like of things as thou hast noted, 
Nor is, nor was, nor shall be quoted. 
Nor in the chanting Poets theames, 
Nor in the wisest sickmens dreames : 
Nor in the bookes of Bacon Friar : 
Nor in Herodotus the lyar : 
Nor in the mud of Nilus thicke, 
With wormy monsters crawling quicke. 
To thee give thanks for thoughtlesse skill, 
Reportes which never dropt from quill. 
Which could st if thou would st underborne it, 
Have spoke of state, but thou didst scorne it. 
Thou hast seene Kings, there is no doubt, 
But wisely didst thou leave them out. 
Choosing by judgements ayme to hit, 
What all have mist for want of wit. 
Whilst snow on loftie Alpes shall freeze, 
And paint the dales rich butterflies, 
Thy name shall live, nor be forgotten, 
When Sivil Oranges be rotten. 



And thou shalt weare our English Bayes, Thomas 

And surfeit yet not die of praise. 

Explicit Thomas Bastard. 

Incipit Gulielmus Baker. 

The Anatomic, dissection, or cutting up of that great 
Quack-salver of words, Mr. Thomas Coryate our British 

TO praise thee or thy worke (which is the moddell William 
Of most the wit enskonsed in thy noddell) Baker. 

Were madnesse ; since the Poets of our daies 
Run giddie in the circle of thy praise. 
When thou wast borne, some say, & all do thinke, 
The urine that thou mad st, was perfect inke. 
Cosmographers bespoken have thy head, 
(The eares first pared off, and polished) 
For a terrestriall Globe : and Coryate 

Thy shall serve to be a Promontorie at 

Nicest exactnesse : precious is thy life, 
When arts and nature for thee are at strife : 
So full of joviall glee, that men hereafter 
Shal terme thee eldest Son to wrinkled laughter, 
Better than Rhubarbe purging melancholy, 
One that hath got of words the monopoly : 
That evesdrops a phrase, and like a spie 
Watcheth each bumbast word, as it doth flie. 

His presence is more grateful unto all 
Then a new play, or on some festivall 
Strange squibs and .fire-works, which do clime the skies, 
And with their glaring sparkes mate vulgar eyes. 
Tis thought if longer he in England tarries, 
He will undoe cooks shops and Ordinaries. 
For who, to save a dinner, on him steales, 
Forgetteth hunger, and out-laughes his meales. 
He knew and felt the Boores, yet was not boorish, 
He new and felt the whores, yet was not whorish, 



William As Phoebus in his full of noone-tide pride, 
Baker. p ass i n g through muddie clouds, doth pure abide, 
He is a gemme most worthy to be hung 
And worne in choicest eares : but his blown tongue 
With talke sets ships agoing on their waies, 
When they lie bed-rid, and becalmd on seas. 

Upon this unmatched worke, the true hieroglyphicke of 
that observative, and long-winded Gentleman Thomas 

OUr travelling frie, liquorous of Novelties, 
Enquire each minute for thy Crudities ; 
And hope, that as those haddocks tooke refection, 
Cast from thy sea-sicke stomacks forc t ejection, 
And straight grew travailers, and forsooke our Maine, 
To frolicke on the grav ly shelves of Spaine : 
So they by thy disgorgement, at their will 
Shall put downe Web, or Sir John Mandevil. 
For such an itch of travell is begotten, 
(To the states good, and thy praise be it spoken) 
Thy booke shall vent the kindome better far 
Then erst the Irish or Low countrie war. 
Here native Graces carelesly do lurke 
Skorning Arts borrowed dressings : and thy worke 
Simple as truth, not artificial!, 
But like thy selfe naked, and naturall. 
Yet here a riddle is, will pose the wise, 
Tom speaketh truth, and yet was full of lice. 
And for his volume, this I dare to say, 
When he did make this worke he did not play ; 
For such huge meritorious paines he tooke, 
That if he be sav d, twill be by his booke. 

Explicit Gulielmus Baker. 



Incipit To 

A Wake thou Cocke of great renowne, 
And crow the praise of Odcombes towne, 
For breeding such a worlds wonder, 
Whose writings move the ayre to thunder. 
Thou art the Theefe of travellers treasury, 
By bartering thy wit for extreme usury. 
Which is as fine as cobweb lawne, 
And runneth like the streame of Dawne. 
Thy Goate-like sense the ravisher of fame 
Hath parcell-gilt thy memory and name. 
Thy inventorie of thy braines endevours 
Hath plumed thee with the Peacocks feathers. 
Which made thee flie to learne our newes, 
And brought thee home from Venice stewes. 
Where Emilia faire thou didst fro st-bit, 
And shee inflamed thy melting wit : 
Thy braine like Baldus doth ebbe and flow, 
But fixed is thy wit by standing in the snow 
To keepe out the Connies from leaping the wall, 
Which proves thee a Priest of the Order of Ball. 
Thou art the Syren that those inchaunt 
That with their eares thy Muse doe haunt. 
Thou art the Phcenix that in the wagtailes nest was borne, 
Whereby thy birth high mounted hath thy home. 
If thou (sweet Tom) such praise must have, 
What then must he that got the knave ? 
But let him be as may bee, 
Thou art his hony and hony-combe, men see. 

Explicit To 

[Incipit Josias 
c. c. 8t F 


Incipit Josias Clarke. 

Anagramma in nomen Authoris Thomas Coriatus. 

Hoc totus amaris. 

Josias Clarke. T TRbes egregias vidisti Cosmopolita, 

\^J Corporis aut animi quis mage quaeso labor ? 
Vidisti, & calamo tradis memoranda fideli, 
Hoccine vicit amor, vicerit anne labor? 
Vicit amor patriae, permiscens utile dulci, 

Seria, describis tincta lepore, tua. 
Nomen & omen habes idcirco, Hoc TOTUS AMARIS, 
Digna notanda facis, digna legenda notas. 

Explicit Josias Clarke. 

Incipit Thomas Farnaby alias Bainrafe. 

Thomas 01 aSta-TTTafj.ei tj OaXepovs veov eiapivoia-iv 

Farnaby. AfvOecri \ei/u.u)va.$ /3a/a /neXiarcra Tpe^ei, 

E /c re poScov QV/J.OV re Spocrov fj.vira.a-a (3e(3pi6e 

PavTiG-Oevra a-KeXtj vtKTapeov /u.e\iTO9. 
Toios VOVVT ISwv KojO/aro? T acrrea 
TOUT apa SaiSaXeov icqpiov evOereet. 

The same in English. 

IN verdant meadowes crown d with springs fresh pride 
The painefull Bee tastes every fragrant flower ; 
His thighes full fraught, on nimble wing doth glide 
Home, to store up his wealth in hony bower. 

From travailes strange, so Coryate late come home, 
With flowing Nectar filles this hony Combe. 

LYcurgus, Solon, and Pythagoras 
Have by their travails taught learned Thomas, 
That an Ulysses is not borne at home, 
But made abroade. Wherefore he leaves Odcombe, 
And the Transalpine countries visits. Where he 
By horse, by cart, on foote full many a wearie 



Journey endur d, with curious observation Thomas 

Noting the lives and manners of each nation. 

Whence with wing-footed speede making returne, all 

His right and left adventures in this journall 

Hath Gobled up in hast. And simply true 

Shames not to write how he at Sea did spue. 

There shall you reade of woods surpassing Arden, 

Clowd-touching hilles, Alcinous Paris Garden. 

Strange Butter-flies. His Circe neate and mundula 

Pelting the Greeke in his Venetian Gondola. 

But past the besieging of his she Pergamo 

An Irish lodging takes with jades at Bergamo. 

Of Epitaphes and Letters he cites volumes, 

Measures Pyramide steeples and high columnes. 

Scapes the Dutch Boore, th Irus or Cyclop 

At Heydelberg bestrides the monstrous *ts Cadh. 

Which with dimension trine justly TYE Madadh. 

In briefe from Venice he to Flussing hobled 

With no more shirts then backs, shoes seldom cobled. 

Which shirt, which shoes, with hat of mickle price, 

His fustian case, shelter for heards of lice 

(Like some world-circling ship, or silver shield 

Of Macedons, or trophey of fought field) 

Hang Monuments of eviternall glory, at 

Odcombe, to th honour of Thomas Coryate. 

So that when death his soule and body sever, 

Bell-weather fame shall ring his praise for ever. 

Explicit Thomas Farnaby alias Bainrafe. 

Incipit Gulielmus Austin. 

HOw shall my pen describe thy praise, William 

Thou only wonder of our daies ? Austin. 

Since tis a taske that best befits 
Our Poets chiefe, I meane the Wits. 
I wish, since I to write am bent, 
My style as high as those in Kent. 



William B ut s h a i} j p ra i se thy booke or person ? 

The gravest lines of learned Gerson, 
Or smoothest verse e re came from Ovid, 
Unable is to tell us of it. 
For none can do t mong st living men, 
Just as it is but Coryats pen. 
To him alone belongs the glory 
Of all yee see written before yee. 
To him that farre and neere hath travaild, 
Gone, and retourn d, his wit ungraveld ; 
Slep t in his clothes, like westerne Pugge, 
Sans Monmouth cap or gowne of Rugge ; 
And now for Trophey of rich price 
Hangs up his garments full of lice, 
Which heretofore like weedes of proofe 
Served him to keepe the cold aloofe. 
When as he past the Jesuit parts, 
Who were not able with their arts, 
And all their arguments to finde 
One hole to pierce his constant minde. 
But conquering still along did passe, 
Nor could they all make him an As- 
Sassinate of his Prince or Peere, 
For still his conscience kept him cleere. 
But if his purpose do not varie, 
He meanes to fetch one more vagarie. 
To see before his comming backe, 
The furdest bounds of Prester Jacke. 
When going on I hope hee l worke 
All Christendome against the Turke. 
And then unyoake his weary teame 
In China or Jerusalem. 
Oh may he goe, that they may there 
Admire his wit as we do heare. 
Whose Chastity and Temperance 
Italic knowes as well as France. 
A Cortezan or Curteous one 
He hates like Puncke of Babylon 



He never learn d of bright Apollo, William 

The Dutch Garraus or German Swallow. Austin - 

Nor never have I heard him noted 

For drinking drunke with herring bloted. 

Learning s his love, and he a Scholler, 

In Greeke and Latin doth extoll her ; 

By whose pure helpe and sacred art, 

(Which he long since hath learn d by heart) 

Hee l guard him selfe if foes inviron, 

As well with verses as old yron ; 

And sting a man with Inke and Paper, 

More Satyre like then with a Rapier. 

And now of late a booke hath writ 

In praise of learning and his wit. 

From Odcombe doe his Muses flow, 

Then must there Come Odde trickes I trow. 

The famous booke of Mandevill 

Tell not of things so strange and evill, 

Of jests, mistakings, and misprisions, 

Of Pagans, Jewes, and circumcisions, 

Of Tombs, Sepulchers, dead mens bones, 

Of Epitaphes, of stockes and stones, 

And how in Venice at a supper : 

But why should I thy praises slubber? 

Since thou thy selfe in lines of worth 

Hast writ it downe and set it forth 

At thine owne proper cost and charge, 

As the Church-wardens doe their large 

And spacious windowes in the Church, 

Where schoolboies boms are breetcht with burch. 

Besides thy front showes not a little 

Thy rare conceit. For in thy title 

Whole sholes of Gudgins gaping skip 

To catch thy larges from the ship ; 

And dance for joy in hope to winne thee, 

Because they feele ther s somewhat in thee. 

Nay more than this thy very picture 

Seemes of itselfe to reade a Lecture 



William Betweene three comly Virgins plac d, 

Austin. Figuring the Countries where thou wast. 

Italie diet, wine from France, 
Germanic gives thee utterance. 
The world ere long on fame shall raise thee, 
Then what neede my poore pen to praise thee ? 
Yet ere I end, Pie prophesie, 
If any shall like thee flie hie, 
And touch Pernassus in discourse 
With flying pen like winged horse : 
Thy name above shall him renowne. 
For all the wits about the towne 
Shall honoured Laurell on him set, 
And call him second Coryet. 
And thus adiew, since time doth barre us 
I take my leave, Thine usque ad Aras. 

Explicit Gulielmus Austin. 

Incipit Glareanus Vadianus. 

De THOMA CORYATO Odcombiensi apud Britanno-Belgas 
cive, homine Heteroclito & Anomalo, atque Planeta 
extra suum Zodiacum erratico, Legenda plumbea. 

Glareanus A "p^a virumque cano, nostris qui raptus ab oris 
Vadianus. ^-^ Armoricosque ; sinus rostratis navibus intrans, 
Multa tulit fecitque miser ; longoque peracto 
Terrarum tractuque maris, per inhospita mundi 
Littoraque, & rigidis loca multa impervia saxis, 
In proprium tandem rediit : fessusque viarum 
Consedit, repetens luctus tristesque labores. 

Hemistichion hoc sic Anglice reddendum censent Critici, viz. (I sing 
the harmelesse man) ut ille olim, [Oratio pro Archia poeta] A praier for 
the Arch-Poet. Si quasratur, quomodo in dictione (dp/xa) includatur 
[harmelesse] notandum est postremum a esse o-reprjTiKov popiov, atque ita 
implicare (harmlesse vel without harme :) Si ulterius quaeratur quare 
privativa haec particula quae prasfigi debet, postponitur, sciendum est in 
voce perinde ac in re notare velle Authorem Coriaticam Hysterologiam. 



Quos dum commemorat, pleno & * mendacia folle Glareanus 

Spirat, Magnatum mensas condire secundas Vadlaniu. 

Suevit, & immodico pulmonem extendere risu ; 
Unus moeroris Medicus, laterum unus Aliptes, 
Unica Theriace quae noxia toxica pellens, 
TLdvB b<ra /mev a"jr\dy^voi(TLv ev/crraTat aXyea Travel. 

Postquam conscendit navem, portuque solutus 
In mare monstriferum ventorum irremigat alls, 
Protinus hie Pelagi & Telluris inutile tpondus, 
Sarcinaque ipse sibi, ructat, singultit, & udis 
Prospiciens oculis late evpea vwra OaAdera-q?, 
" De corio Coryate tuo nunc, inquit, aguntur 
" Judicia, 6 Odcomba vale, mulctralia, mactra, 
" Armamenta mei ruris ; mutasse dolemus 
" Cymbia pro cymba, en in remos ramus abivit : 
" Arbor in antennas & malos, hortus in aequor, 
" Mobile pro fixo ; pro terra, tergora Ponti, 
" Pro clivo clavum teneo, pro mergite merges . 

Dumque haec conqueritur, stomacho quatiente cerebrum, 
Nauseat, & nutat, tussit, screat, oscitat, aeger 
Arquatusque vomit quantum stabula alta ducentis 
Apta bobus mittunt steriles laetamen in agros. 
Compellat socios subito Navarcha stupentes, 
Tollite sublimem, totumque immergite ponto. 
otrcra yap dv6pu>7T(av K\vjei KUKO. Trai/ra OaXdcrcra, 
Atque ita perlotum vicino in littore sistunt. 
Convalet Antaeus, duplicataque robora sumit. 

Egreditur, tactaque semel tellure, repente 
Inde velut Xerxes inflixit verbera ponto, 
Et jussit cohibere minas, compescere fluctus. 
Turn porro perrexit iter, cinctuque Gabino 
Induit interulam croceo medicamine tinctam 
Sexipedes contra vermes, cimicesque rotundos ; 

* Nimis me perstringis mi Glareane. Arbitraris enim (sed perperam) 
illud usitatum adagium in vernacula nostra lingua, esse verum. Travel 
lers may lie by authoritie. 

f Scio te alludere ad illud Homericum, ITWO-IOV a^^os apovpys. Sed 
non mihi arridet tua allusio. 



Glareanus Quam per tot menses pedicoso in corpore gessit, 
Vadianw. j n ma t r i s puer efformarier alvo. 

Balteus injectus pugili latus alligat ense, 
Ense Medusaeum quali caput abstulit olim 
Perseus, huic Harpe nomen : vel quale sacravit 
Pausanias ferrum quod Myrtalis usque vocatum est. 
Hoc unum intererat, Coryatidi quod sua *Morglai 
Non acies, non cuspis erat, sed plumbea lamna 
Nescia bellorum, vaginae & pacis amatrix, 
Hanc non Herculeum pectus, non dextera vibrat, 
Brachia fulta toris, validis neque mota lacertis, 
Sed vir Cervinus, volucrique fugacior ullo, 
Perpetua glacie cujus prsecordia frigent, 
Tergaque qui gladiis potius quam pectora vertit. 
j^mulus Alcidae meruit 
Clamari titulo, sed non e 
Ut cui nee vestis nee velamenta superbis 
Apta sedent humeris, pedibus neque mollis aluta, 
Ocreave aut suras solitus vincire cothurnus, 
Empta sed a verpis Judaeis byssina diplois, 
Calceus aut soccus quern supra fibula mordet ; 
Et bene suppactas soleas cui subula junxit, 
Hirtaque seta suis docti cerdonis ab arte. 
Non alio hie Goozman jumento fortiter usus 
Viribus infractis Gallos penetravit & Umbros, 
Victor Hyperboreos populos superasset & ultra, 
Si non audisset gentem feritate tremenda 
Torpentes mactasse asinos ad Apollinis aras. 
Flexit iter, tumidum guttur miratus ad Alpes. 
Longa per Insubres tenuit via mollis euntem. 
Morantemque diu, multumque & multa morantem, 
Dives ager fructu, generosa vite, ficuque 
Explevit pingui mensa, fluidisque racemis. 
Ante etenim generis gentisque oblitus, & exors 
Ipse sui decoris, mendicos inter, agyrtas, 
Erronumque greges, perhibetur ad oppida circum 

* Gladius Guidonis Warwicensis. 


Ostiaque a populo *stipem petiisse viritim, Glareanus 

Furfure contentus, siliquis, & pane-secundo, 

Quacunque incedit, pedibus retinacula solvit, 
Fertque sub axilla soleas, ut rusticus agnum, 
Visurus claram (sic spes est) Sandaliwtin, 
Dum Cimicus, Cynicus, pede nudus asymbolus, excors, 
Calcat Apenninum per devia lustra ferarum, 
Qua rudunt Onagri grunnit arnica luto sus, 
Agnoscit generis positas in pulvere plantas 
Bestia quaeque sui, simul & vestigia lambunt. 
Nam Coryate tuo Cervus, Lepus, Ursus, & Urus, 
olidusque caper, corio clauduntur in uno. 

Hinc loca contuitus qua brachia porrigit aequor 
In terrae gremium, cingitque amplexibus arctis ; 
Spectat ubi Venetos urbs inclyta ditat & ornat, 
Quae procul in saxis extructa a margine terrae, 
Inconcussa natat turrita in gurgite salso. 
Pro portis illi est Nereus ; pro moenibus aequor ; 
Prata, maris campus ; plateae, pons ; cymba, caballus. 
Hue convertit iter, portasque ingressus, hianti 
Ore stupens, oculis circumspicit omnia limis, 
Miratusque, gradum sistit ; secumque locutus 
Nil ultra est, inquit ; Gades hie sunto laboris : 
Erroris monumenta mei hoc in littore ponam. 

Venit ad illuviem populi, putidumque lupanar, 
Scortorumque greges, nimiumque ibi fortiter haerens, 
Cereus in vitium, capitur fmeretricis amore. 
" Quam sic aggreditur ; Medea, Empusaque mundi, 
" O sexus cremor une tui, tremor une virilis, 

*Valde erras mi Glareane; semel enim dun taxat in peregrinatione 
mea stipem emendicavi, idque occasione quadam inusitata impulsus. 
Quod turn hieroglyphice in Itinerarii mei frontispicio, turn etiam in 
libri mei contextu disertis verbis expressi, viz. 465. 

Insulam Sardinian!, ita dictam ob speciem quam habet pedis & 
calcei humani. 

fHic etiam poetico tuo more figmenta cudis, & rem vehementer exag- 
geras, Vadiane ; nee istam meam ad meretricem a Vadiano meo excogi- 
tatam oratiunculam jam subsequentem aliter quaeso (Lector) existimes 
quam rem omnino fictitiam. 



Glareanus Liliaque & lolium, tu spica & spina, silexque, 
us " " Motacilla salax, & plena cruoris hirudo : 

" Quae quia te matulam purgandis renibus offers, 


" Italus, & Calaber, Siculus tibi seruit, & Afer : 
" O lux cruxque hominum, naturae Ens mobile, Res, In- 
" Dividuumque vagum, Transcendens, classe reponi 
Quod nequit, & noles, nisi compede vincta, teneri. 
Mot KuTTjCK? apyvpoire^a, cru /txol poSoSaKTvXos >jw \ 
" Sume parallelum me nunc tibi, sume Colurum, 
" Ipse tibi Centrum, Circumque ferentia dicar, 
" Si mensa dignere tua, dignere cubili ; 
"* Julius & Paulus pacto annumerabitur isti. 
" Ilia refert contrra, Balatro, barathrumque macelli, 
" Cumanumque pecus, furfurque & furcifer idem, 
" Vapulo, Vappa, floces, & olivae lenis amurca, 
" Quis furor est ambire meos vage castor amores ? 
" Non mea sic lodix, nitidi neque culcitra lecti 
" Tarn vili prostant ; Tibi sin marsupia turgent, 
" Ingredere, & strumam facile vomicamque levabo. 
Succedit tecto ; cui sic lepa nequiter infit : 
" Turde malum tibi nempe cacas, viscoque teneris 
" Ipse tuo : Bulgam ponas, tumidamque crumenam, 
" Exibis levior, nee sarcina tanta gravabit. 
" Quorsum haec drachmarum grando, nullius in usum ? 

Ponere cunctantem, baculo bene fustigat, aede 
Exturbatque sua pluvia lotioque madentem. 
" Inclamans, cite pes, fuge Dactyle, nee tibi tardi 
" Injiciant remoras Spondaei, aut claudus Iambus. 
Quodque unum potuit, meretrix, Valedicit amante, 
Et blandita breves versus cantillat eunti. 

Animule, vagule, blandule, 

Quos nunc abibis in locos? 

Pallidule, rigide, nudule, 

Nee, ut soles, dabis jocos. 
Mene deseris petulce? 
Mene praeteris subulce? 
Pergin ire per Britannos? 

* Paparum numismata. 


Ebrios per Alemannos? Ghreamu 

c .1 Vadianui. 

bcythicis premi prumis, 

Corporisque tot ruinis? 

Cursitare per culinas, 

Latitare per popinas ? 

Pulices pati nigellos, 

Homines ubi misellos 

Lictor suevit alligare, 

Loris terga perfricare. 
Ergo mihi ne sit male, 
Coryate vale, vale. 

Sic post Iliaden, aestumque, ^Etnamque malorum, 
Et per Odyssaeam gravium leviumque laborum, 
Unctus, & emunctus, variis functusque periclis, 
In patriam remeat peregrinis moribus auctus, 
Hyberno bombyce scatens & lende Brigantum. 

Atque ita sandaliis sacro laqueare repostis 
O *Crispine tuo, crepidarum qui regis artem, 
Et qui mustricolae monstras sutoribus usum, 
Clarus in Odcombse pago, mage clarus in ipsa 
Metropoli Regni, decantatusque per urbis 
Compitaque, & vicos, camposque, viasque, domosque, 
Fit Procerum risus, jocus Aulae, fabula vulgi. 

Ad Curiatiorum familiar abortivum 

Thomam Coryatum. 

TErgeminos inter fratres e Curibus ortos, 
Romanes totidem qui pepulere Duces ; 
Quisque suum, in pugna praeceps, & anhelus in armis, 

Hostis mortiferum vulnus ab ense tulit. 
Tu genus 6 Coryate tuum deducis ab istis, 
Inflexoque parum nomine, nomen habes. 
Degener hoc tantum, quod honor tibi vilior alga est, 
Nee quassita manu, sed pede parta salus. 

* Crispinus sutorum & Cerdonum divus Tutelaris. 



Glareanus De cute, de corio pernox & perdia cura est, 
Vadianm. yj x tamen i n toto est pectore mica sails.* 

Cum sic particulam divinse negligis aurae, 
Corporis obveniat jam coriago tibi. 

A Declaration of Nereus prophesies touching the 
Fall of Glassenburie Abbey, and the rising of 
Odcombe, by two fishes, the Whiting and 
the Pilchard to the Tune of Pastor cum 
traheret per freta navibus. 

SOme Barde a bird of Merlins ayrie 
Of Classen Abbie had forespeld 

That it should stand, and not be feld, 

Till Whiting over it did ferrie. 
Whiting a Monke, vassall to Rome 

For treason meant against his King 

Upon the f Torre in a roape did swing, 

And so fulfild the Wizards doome. 
Of Odcombe it was said of yore, 

That it in darkenesse long should sit, 

Unknowne to men till unto it 

Should come of skalie Pilchards store. 
Tom Coryate made all this good, 

Borne on a shole of herring frie, 

As once, poor groome, half wet, half drie, 

On Dolphins backe Arion stoode. 
The II Country Boores dasht with the matter 

Began on him to skance awry, 

* Verum est salis Armoniaci, aut si quod est ejusmodi. 

This is one of the Oracles that Sybilla Cumasa stitched up in her 
leaves. And therefore, Credite me vobis folium recitare Sybillas. 

f A Terrasse or Mount of earth neare Glassenburie. 

\ This prophesie is yet to be scene in one of the Tavernes, as you 
travell upon via lactea, where Erigones Dogge chased Arctophylax his 
Beare so far North, that they were both frozen into fiery starres. 

|| This is no jest, but res feliciter gesta ; for upon a noverint universi, 
he recovered a hundred Marks. And is now matriculated among those 
to whom God sendeth good fortune. 



But he with bill in Chancery Glareanus 

Shot them cleane through twixt wind and water. 
Paules chaine for joy did stretch and yawne, 

Saint Marie Overies shot the bridge, 

And gald-breech fame rode post bare-ridge 

To spreade the newes on Antwerpe Pawne. 
The *Pleiade of Poets fell a quaffing 

At Hippocrenes fountaine head, 

London her selfe fell sicke abed 

Surfeited on a jole of laughing. 
And as the purple-wing d King-fisher 

Sitting upon a willow stumpe, 

For a poor minnow in doth plumpe, 

And eates her raw, yer one can dish her. 
So nimble Tom, the traveller Trip-goe, 

Who feasting fasts, and sitting walks, 

And waking dreames, and silent talks, 

Whose spirits alwaies stand on tip-toe ; 
Whose minde on travels still indockt, 

Eates Observations by the eyes, 

Hath spu d a booke of Crudities, 

Which Vulcans forge will not concoct. 
And as about the time of f Easter, 

T enrich the towne and trade of shipping, 

The winde which evermore is skipping, 

Is said to come and dwell at Chester : 
So Tom the jaile from Ilchester 

(To grace his towne out of pure love) 

Will by replivie soone remove 

To Odcombe, now cald Pilchester. 

*The seven stars of Greece are by Isacius reckoned to have beene, 
Theocritus, Aratus, Nicander, Apollonius, Homerus Tragicus, Andro- 
maches Byzantius, and Lycophron. Which are easily put downe by our 
Pleiade of English Poets, Chaucer, Sir Philip Sidney, Spencer, Daniel, 
and those others who have made their Diatribes upon Tom Coryats 
Parva naturalia. 

t Prov. At Easter the winde is at Chester. Because it is good for 




L Envoy. 

Let the Hurlie-Burlie Fate 
Requite thy love with lasting hate ; 
Long live, late come to thy enterring, 
Nor flesh, nor fish, nor good red herring. 
And thou O Odcombe laugh and tickle 
To see thy Pilchard in his pickle, 
Who late in Court, both wet and shrunck, 
Lay close embrined in a trunck. 


Asne-Bucephalaeosis ; ou Recapitulation & Sommaire du 
gros fatras du Sieur Tho. Coriat. 

Les poetes a leur Muses. 

C Est assez, belles Muses ; 
Bouchez les escluses, 
Al Aganippee : 
Ou pour leur lippde. 
Les Poetes grenouillent, 
Et puis y gazouillent 
D une extreme rage 
Leur dous chant ramage. 
Eux faisans leur Feste 
Au coq porte-creste : 
Et lavants la teste 
A la lourde beste : 
Ont perdu toutes-fois 

Et leur charbons & bois, 
Leur Peine excessive, 
Savon & lessive. 
Leur rimes roulantes 
Et carmes coulantes, 
De belle cadence 
Comme sault en potence. 

Sus doncq, belles Muses 
Bouchez vos escluses, 
Car Tom, le bon drole, 
Ha jove son role. 
La farce est finie, 
Tai toy, Poesie. 


Risposta delle Muse. 

TAcete matti ; che messer Thomasso, 
D un Mevio e fatto un Torquato Tasso ; 
II cui spirto gentil en un batter d occhio, 
Trascorre dal capo, fin al ginocchio ; 



I piedi dan salto, la testa capricci, Glareanus 

Quelli fan il camino, questa i bisticci 

Povero viandante chi preso ne lacci 
D amor, se ne tor no coper to di stracci. 
Chi per no tener piu sale in Zucca 
Che Cavallo di Bergamo, 6 hue di Lucca ; 
Partissi sciocco, volgendosi pazzo, 
Del mondo il scherzo, trastullo, e solazzo. 

Concierto de los entrambos. 

EA pues, acabense los chistes y pullas, 
Cantada la missa queden las casullas. 
El Chronista Thomas pone fin al travajo ; 
Despues de averse mostrado badajo : 
Y dicho donayres y mil disparates, 
Que hazen ventaje de muchos quilates 
Aquantos han escrito. Quien vende tal mosto, 
De poca cosecha haga su Agosto. 
Y digan los ninos ; Tata, madre, coco, 
He aqui passa Tom tonto y loco. 

Explicit Glareanus Vadianus. 

[Incipit Joannes 


Incipit Joannes Jackson. 

John Jackson. Can it 

Be possible for 

A naturall man 

To travell nimbler then 

Tom Coryate can ? No : though 

You should tie to his horne-peec d 

Shoes, wings fether d more then Mer- 

Cury did use. Perchaunce hee borrowed 

Fortunatus Hatte, for wings since Bladuds time 

Were out of date. His purse he hath to print 

What hee did write, else, who had read of thee, O 

Wandering Wight? Who else had knowne what thou 

Hast felt and seene, where and with whom ; and how farre 

Thou hast beene ? Ere thou to Odcombe couldst thy Tro- 

phyes bring ? Thy hungry prayses in his Egge I sing, 

At thy request, else in another fashion I would 

Have pointed at thy commendation : Thy other 

Heliconian friends bring store of Salt, of 

Pepper, and Vineger sowre, to furnish thy 

Italian Banquet forth, whereby is 

Plainly shown thy wondrous worth. 

Feast Coryate, feast the world 

Still with thy travel, discharge 

The Presse, and care 

Not then who 


Explicit Joannes Jackson. 



Incipit Michael Drayton. 
A brief Prologue to the verses following. Michael 


Deare Tom, thy Booke was like to come to light, 
Ere I could gaine but one halfe howre to write ; 
They go before whose wits are at their noones, 
And I come after bringing Salt and Spoones. 

MAny there be that write before thy Booke, 
For whom (except here) who would ever looke? 
Thrice happy are all we that had the Grace 
To have our names set in this living place. 
Most worthy man, with thee it is even thus, 
As men take Dottrels, so hast thou ta n us. 
Which as a man his arme or legge doth set, 
So this fond Bird will likewise counterfeit : 
Thou art the Fowler, and doest shew us shapes, 
And we are all thy Zanies, thy true Apes. 
I saw this age (from what it was at first) 
Swolne, and so bigge that it was like to burst, 
Growne so prodigious, so quite out of fashion, 
That who will thrive, must hazard his damnation : 
Sweating in panges, sent such a horrid mist. 
As to dim Heaven : I looked for Antichrist 
Or some new set of Divels to sway hell, 
Worser than those that in the Chaos fell : 
Wondring what fruit it to the world would bring, 
At length it brought forth this : O most strange thing ; 
And with sore throwes, for that the greatest head 
Ever is hard st to be delivered. 
By thee wise Coryate we are taught to know, 
Great, with great men which is the way to grow. 
For in a new straine thou com st finely in, 
Making thy selfe like those thou meant st to winne : 
Greatnesse to me seem d ever full of feare, 
Which thou found st false at thy arriving there, 
Of the Bermudos, the example such, 
Where not a ship until this time durst touch ; 

c. c. 97 G 


Michael Kep t as suppos d by hels infernall dogs, 
Dray ton. Our Fleet found there most honest courteous hogs. 
Live vertuous Coryate, and for ever be 
Lik d of such wise men, as are most like thee. 

Explicit Michael Drayton. 

Incipit Nicholas Smith. 

Nicholas r I A Was much all Country wits to overshine; 

Smith. A At Court, where there are hundreds just like thine, 
How found they thee? how keepe they thee? except 
As Rome being told that onely whilst she kept 
The target fall n from heaven, her state should grow, 
Made many like, that none the right might know : 
So, to possesse and keepe thee, precious man, 
They make themselves as like thee as they can. 
Hence flow those verses. In this (Tom) appears 
Thy greatnesse, Thou art judged by thy Peers. 

Explicit Nicholas Smith. 




I Am persuaded [Reader] thou wilt censure me for a 
most absurd writer, to adde unto these precedent 
verses that have the word Finis subscribed unto them, 
more Panegyricks upon my booke. Neither indeed can 
I altogether free my selfe from an imputation of some 
absurditie committed herein. But let this I intreate thee 
a little excuse the matter, that after all these former verses 
were printed, I was most importunately perswaded by 
them that have no small interest in me, to adjoyne these 
ensuing unto the rest, by way of a supplement or overplus. 
Therefore seeing I could not conveniently give the repulse 
unto the Authors of the verses following to insert their 
lines into my booke : take them I intreat thee in as good 
part as the former, especially seeing many of them doe 
expresse [besides much merry matter] very elegant and 
wittie conceits. 

Incipit Laurentius Emley. 

These verses immediately following were lately sent me Laurence 
by a learned Gentleman of Magdalen Colledge in Emley. 
Oxford : who though he never saw me, hath vouch 
safed to grace my booke with his Encomiasticks. 

To the never-enough wondred at 

ITching desire hath caus d us long to know 
Thy face (deare Coryate) admired so : 
Which that we might the better view at ease, 
The Pencill speakes Vera effigies. 
But, let th ingraver know, it is not true, 
Since of thy minde it gives us not the view. 
It well may shew the draught of flesh and bone, 
But that may be applied to many one. 
The Minde of Man is it most glory beares : 
Since by the minde himselfe himselfe appeares, 



Laurence To shew thy minde, thy selfe hast thought it meet 
Emley. ^ Q ma j < . e us mos ^ beholden to thy feete : 

Thy feete, whose soles employment who so mocks, 

Doth ill, for it appeares that they wore sockes. 

For tis discoverd by the sweete effect 

That thou to keepe them sweete didst ne re neglect. 

Thy feete sought forth what thy faire fist describes, 

God shield those hands from chilblains, feete from kibes. 

Let those be vext with such that private lurke, 

And suffer shoes, sailes, Printers to want worke : 

But thou the friend of Artes, manure thy wit : 

Thine Odcombe live in thee, not thou in it. 

Harsh was the handling of the halberd-swaine, 
Who grutched grapes to thy divinest vaine ; 
And little knew the threatening turbant-slave 
The grace that thy returne to us should have. 
Though we may doubt much of the Pencils grace 
That drops but lowsy matter from thy Case. 

Faire-flowry France, and full-gorg d Germany, 
With their third sister sweet-lipt Italy. 
Loath for to leave him whom they held so deare, 
Sweete company with thee to us would beare. 

But being fixed that they cannot move, 
They send with their faire face, imprest their love : 
And Germany, since thee she needs must misse, 
In kind remembrance blowes thee a full kisse. 

Then if thou please more Countries yet to see, 
Thou shalt finde thousands more in love with thee : 
In love with thee, whom thy digested bookes 
Will make as well knowne as thy carved lookes. 
There shalt thou finde many an Horse or Asse 
To helpe thee, that thy Chariot may passe. 
There shalt thou find many a double droane 
Which under thy wits burden oft shall groane. 

But, though thou travell through the spacious round, 
Let not thy Impe, thy Babe, thy booke change ground. 
Though thou discover strange lands by thy wit, 
Let them send hither and discover it. 



For pitty tis but that the world should know Laurence 

That tis thine owne deare Babe that thou lov st so, 

And the true braine-bred child of Coryate, 

As Pallas was begot of Joves owne pate. 

Thus Coryate, write thy friends as thou maist see, 

For none, but their owne foes, will envie thee. 

Explicit Laurentius Emley. 

Incipit Georgius Griffin. 
Thomas Coriatus 

Anagramma : - 

Tu cos amatoris 

Tuta cos amoris. 

COs es amatoris ; quis non probat ? esset amator 
Si quisquam, exemplar Te petat ille suum. 
Cos es amatoris, nee tantum hoc, cos es amoris ; 

Nam tibi fautrices tot, quot habes, dominas. 
Et bene succedant cum tot (Coryate) puellae, 
Cos & amatoris cos & amoris eris. 

Explicit Georgius Griffin. 

Incipit Joannes Davis Herefordiensis. 

In the lowd, alowd, or well deserved renowne of our John Dams. 
Britaine-Ulysses : his present worke, together with a 
description of the particulars of the Vinet, Title-page, 
or Frontispice. 

IF Art, that oft the learn d hath stammered, 
In one *Yron head-peece (yet no hammer-head) 
May (joyn d with Nature) hit Fame on the f Cocks- 
combe ; 

Then, tis that Head-peece that is crown d, with IPOd- 
combe : 

* Because like Yron it is strong to containe the remembrance of 
so many deere Observations. 

t A metaphore for the head. 

|| Crownd together with Odcombe for producing him. 



John Davis. For, he hard Head (and hard, sith like a Whetstone 

It gives wits edge, and drawes them too like Jetstone) 

Is Caput mundi for a world of schoole-tricks, 

And is not ignorant in the learned st tricks. 

H hath scene much more then much, I assure yee, 

And will see New Troy, Bethlem, and Old-Jurie : 

Meane while (to give a Taste of his first travell, 

With streames of Rhetoricke that get Golden-gravell) 

He tels how he to Venice once did wander ; 

From whence he came l more witty then a Gander : 

Whereby he makes relations of such wonders, 

That Truth therein doth lighten, while Art thunders. 

All Tongues fled to him that at Babell swerved, 

Lest they for want of warme Mouthes might have sterved ; 

Where they doe revell in such Passing-measure, 

(Especially the Greeke wherein s his pleasure) 

That (Jovially) so Greeke, he takes the 2 guard of 

That hee s the merriest Greeke that ere was heard of : 

For, he as t were his Mothers Twittle-twattle 

(That s Mother-tongue) the Greeke can prittle-prattle. 

Nay, of that Tongue he so hath got the Body, 

That he sports with it at Russe, Gleeke, or 3 Noddy. 

For his Invention, in his Bookes rare 4 Brass-face 
Is scene the glory of it, that doth passe 5 Grace. 
The 6 first doth shew how in a shippe he sailed, 
When out of England he (go ing) tra vailed : 
For, as he notes him selfe (and right well noteth) 
No man goes out of England but he boateth : 
Where he (halfe ore board) spralleth like a Paddocke ; 
And spues into a 7 Whales mouth called a Haddocke. 

1 The word (more) for the reason of the excellency : and Gander 
for the Rimes necessity. 

2 He pleasantly preserves it in pristine purity. 

3 Games at Cards, whereby is meant all manner of sports. 

4 The Frontispiece graven in brasse. 

5 Excels the grace of all other fore fronts or Title pages. 

6 The first shewes how he sailed out of England in a ship. 

7 Whale by the figure Hyperbole, or rather Meiosis. 



Right o re against it, there is scene 8 th Apparell John Davis. 

Which he did weare when he found out the Barrell 

Of Heydelberg : shoes, stockings, hose, and dublet, 

With so much of his blood as fils a goblet. 

Dropping in Creepers from his Travels Trophic ; 

Lice He not stile them, lest thou should cry, O fie. 

But, that which is most wondrous to consider 

Is, one so leane so long should be their feeder : 

And that the Clothes which he went out with all too 

Should serve him and the Lice (which were not small) 


Till his returne, with but a little patching, 
When s Rags (like catch-polles) greedy were in catching : 
So, like an Israelite in Desert wast-land, 
His 9 Weedes held out till he had fully trac t-land : 
And for a Monument to After-Commers 
Their Picture shall continue (though Time 10 scummers 
Upon th Effigie) to make Eyes delighted 
With that which by no Art can be more sprighted ; 
And shew the marvell of this n Metaphysicke, 
That would have fil d some Trav ller with the 12 Tyssicke. 
And so t would him have done, but that his Senses 
Were 13 senslesse in pursuit of Excellences. 

Then (from that Trophey to descend a little) 
Yee see when he his Gorge with 14 Grapes did vittle, 
Was out-rag d by a Boore, who did abhorre it, 
Till Tullies golden sentences paid for it 
Disburs d by Coryats Tongue, which did so trolle it 
That Cicero him selfe could not controlle it : 

8 The second shewes his over-worne apparell in his travell. 

9 His clothes which like weeds were now good for nothing but to be 
throwne away. 

10 Canker or rust the Brasse whereon it is graven. 

11 Because they hold out (as it were) supernaturally. 

12 Going so bare. 

13 Desire of glory made his mind not feele what his body felt. 

14 The third shewes how he fed upon the Boores grapes without leave. 



John Davis. Which fill d the Boore with wonder to the Wozen, 
That made him vomit sweet wordes by the dozen 
In Toms deare praise, while he most like a Wag-with 
Tooke of his Grapes as much as he could wag-with. 

Then yee descend, where he sits in a 15 Gondolow 
With Egs throwne at him by a wanton Room-be-low ; 
Who lookes so masculine as shee were some Boy, 
Playing the pleasant Tomboy with her Tom-boy. 
Within which Egs was sweetest water powred, 
That he to her might thereby be allured : 
Which shewes the manner how he went in Venice, 
When as he tooke surveigh of that strange Sea-peece. 

Then doe yee fall upon a goodly 16 Woman, 
Which, for her stature, you would take for some man 
Drest in th Italian fashion, and doth stand for 
Faire Italic it selfe, and so is scand for : 
Who on the one side serves for a supporter 
Of that 17 long Round, wherein he is made shorter 
By halfe (at least) then his length naturall, 
And lookes as if he danc d a Caterbrall, 
With Ruffe about his necke set on so finely, 
That you would sweare he nothing doth supinely. 

On th other side the Round stands one as tall too, 
Drest like a French-fern, in a farthingall too, 
Upholding (as the other did) the Rundle, 
Whose clothes, about the Bumme, tuckt like a bundle, 
Doe make her stand for France ; and so she may well, 
For shee hath Stuffe to make her Doo and say well, 

Then, O ascend, before your last ascending, 
And looke on that that s farre above commending. 
A dainty 18 Dame (not dainty of her vomit) 
Powres downe upon him (like a blazing-commet) 

15 The fourth, shewes his survaying of Venice in a Gondola. 

16 The fifth, a goodly woman representing Italic. 

17 An Ovall-round wherein hee is pictured to the wast. 

18 The sixth a woman ore his head with the tunne of Heydelberg 
on hirs, casting upon him, representing Germanie. 



The streame of her aboundance from her Gullet, J^n Davis. 

And hits him on the 19 Noddle, like a Bullet, 

From whence it glanceth all those Fruits to water, 

That in his way he gather d, like a Cater ; 

Which Damsell, with her free ebriety, 

Doth lie, or sit, or stand for Germany. 

Upon her head shee weares (beneath it smirking) 

Of Heydelbergs the fore-remembred 20 Firkin. 

This, this it is that s Creame of all Invention. 

And farre surmounts the milke of wit s intention. 

Then vaile your Eye againe that is aspiring. 
And see the 21 Horse and Cart he had for tyring. 
On one side stands (below) an Horse, or Hobby, 
Or Hobby-horse (I mean no Hawlke cal d Hobby) 
Sadled and bridled ready for his travell, 
When he his owne feete spurgald had with gravell. 

On th other side the 22 Picardinian Chariot 
Which some call Cart (that 23 carted wandring Coryat) 
Whence, if we looke up, first our eye is meeting 
How Coryate from the 24 Jew is Gentilly fleeting, 
Lest if he staid he should be made a Praepuce ; 
And so of men, the only womans Refuse. 

From whence looke up, and next shall your beholders 
See Coryate carryed on the Atlas sholders 
Of such strong 25 Porters as do helpe men over 
The Alpes within a Chaire without a cover : 
All which (exprest so farre past wits regality) 
Doe shew the pow r of Coryats singularity. 

19 A familiar name for the head. 

20 By the figure Tapinosis. 

21 The seventh the horse he sometimes used in his travell. 

22 The eight, the Picardicall Cart he travelled in. 

23 That is, conveyed him from place to place. 

24 The ninth shewes how he fled from the Jew lest he should have 
circumcised him. 

25 The tenth shewes how he was carryed in a chaire over or on 
the Alpes. 


John Davis. Then, on the top, but yet without the Vinet, 
He lyeth at the heeles of many a 26 Ginnet, 
As then in stable stoode on points of litter, 
To shew his lodging was as hard as bitter : 
For, both together he (most senslesse) feeles there, 
And so on litter lyes he by the 2r heeles there, 

Right o re against these proude brave Spanish stal 

Is seene how he hoth begge of Theeves 28 Italians, 
With cap in hand, and lowly genuflexion, 
Lest they should sincke him till the Resurrection : 
So, shun d the fatall handes of the Banditie 
With wit that lackt not all of most almightie. 

Hold Muse, no more, unlesse thou wilt be martyr d 
Within his world of fame that ne re was quarterd : 
For, if thou seek st in numbers to containe it, 
Twill make thy browes sweate, and thy nose to raine 


But though we cannot in this Frontispice 
Number thy Stations, yet we may count thy lice, 
Which (Tom) from one that (roaving) had no refuge, 
Drop downe, to make the Glories flood a Deluge. 
Within which Flood my Muse (like a Diudapper, 
In Fames wide mouth wagging my Pen, her clapper) 
Is so ore-whelm d, that as shee strives for more breath, 
The Flood engulphes her, and her wordes devoureth. 
So fare well Tom (shee saies) great Natures wonder, 
I lye thy fame a thouzand fathoms under : 
For, it prevailes above the Alpes (high Mountaines!) 
But when it ebbes, He spring in Castall Fountaines. 
All to bewet the earth with streames of praises 
Running to none but thee in fluent Phrases ; 

26 The eleventh shewes how he lay on litter at the horse heels in 
the stable of some Inne. 

27 Horse heeles. 

28 The twelfth and last shewes how he begg d of Italian theeves, 
lest they should have robbed him. 



Untill I make a second Inundation, ]ohn Dav 15 - 

To wash thy purest fames 29 Coinquination ; 
And make it fit for finall 30 Conflagration, 
So to prevent fell Envies indignation. 

Explicit Joannes Davis Herefordiensis. 

Incipit Richardus Badley. 

In Praise of the most observant Traveller, Mr. Thomas Richard 
Coryate of *Odcombe, and of his most Axiopisticall 

DEare friend, (this attribute he le not deny, 
That thy greate Booke shall in the Churchyard buy ;) 
If to admire, and to commend were one, 
Thou should not neede this poore Encomion. 
For thy stupendious paines so mee amaze, 
That (as thy selfe) I can do nought but gaze : 
Not wondring, thou observd st so much by day, 
As that thou writ, and couldst beare all away : 
This is thy praise, some travellers lament 
Their better notes to have bene from them rent. 

Yet in thy booke the module is descried 
Of many a Citie, and Castle fortified, 
Of Townes, of Turrets, and their Trenches deepe, 
Of Rocks, of Rivers, and the Mountaines steepe, 
The Camps, where Romane fields were fought, 
And where their lives so dearely many bought. 
If Schedules of this nature had bene found 
About Sir Politick, twold have made him swound. 

The fruits of France thou no where dost conceale, 
Nor those of Germany thou mean st to steale ; 

29 Alluding to that love which men bore to women in the old world, 
sith like love our Author beares to men ; for whose love and commodity 
he hath put himselfe to this cost and pains. 

30 Burning in flames of glory and wonder, as in the judgement-day. 

*Vide Cambd. Brit. An ancient village within the County of 
Somerset, about six miles from another village called Coscombe. 



<"H?- - . 

Richard Th Italian rarities are here depainted, 
Badley. g o are fa & [ r Alpes, on which thou never fainted. 
In briefe, thy book s an universal! Chart, 
Wherein the works of Nature, and of Art, 
So prodigally there thou dost containe, 
That thou shalt heare, [No Nigard of thy paine.] 

Upon that subject those immortall Rimes 
(Which shall outface the endlesse bounds of times) 
Thy honour d friends compos d, I cannot prize, 
Whether thy name, or their s t immortalize : 
In which their candour and syncerity 
Towards thee, will shine to all posterity. 

Howse ver yet they at thy labours jeast, 
I justly thinke th art greatest in the least : 
For many things (I heare those friends report) 
Do more augment my wonder, then their sport. 
And pray, what Traveller s so observative, 
That doth us not of worthy things deprive ? 

As the French fashion of their gallowes rare ; 
The Switzers Codpeece, with their Nuns so faire ; 
That curious cage of birds in Amiens towne : 
Their Foole at Whitsontide, who put thee downe. 

But oh brave pictures! France, or Italy 
Whether, think st thou, deserves the Mastery ? 
There was that master-piece of such perfection, 
Apelles need not scorne t have laid th complexion : 
Wherein proud Art (Dame nature to excell) 
Within an Ale-house painted had full well, 
The pilfring pastime of a crue of Apes, 
Sporting themselves with their conceited Japes 
About a Pedler that lay snorting by, 
Not dreaming of their theevish knavery ; 
Whose packe unclosed, his trinkets on the twigs 
Some fasten, whilst the others dance their jigs, 
This piece did please, and so content thy eye, 
Thou judg st it worthy immortality. 

Another picture was that Non-parell. 
Which a Venetian shop had then to sell, 



In which luxurious Art did so surmount, Richard 

That now the French piece thou didst Apish count, 

And this the Paragon, which did reveale 

The lively picture of a Should r of Veale. 

This did so farre excell you of the Apes, 

That well it might compare with Zeuxis grapes ; 

And thou those Birds deceived might st parallell, 

If thy then-wambling stomacke truth would tell. 

The Ducall Gallowes there (I heard) you saw, 
Which twich him up, when he offends their law : 
These are beyond those screwed ones of France, 
Where men do passe away, as in a trance. 

Thy bitter journey o re the clowdy rockes, 
Deserv d the sweetest wines Piemont up-locks : 
For he no sweet hath merited (they say) 
That hath not tasted of the sower by th way ; 
Yet had that wine an undeserv d effect, 
Which did so on thy hands and face reflect. 

That stone at Padua, whereon Bankrupts sit, 
Oh into England th adst transported it. 
As he his brazen torment first did prove, 
So mightst thou this have hanseld, for thy love. 

Briefly, for triall of a religious lurch, 
Thou nimbd st an image out of Brixias Church. 

Yet cannot I suppresse, without disgrace, 
The love thou bare thy Natalitiall place. 
For in the midst of thy most Alpish waies, 
When ruinous rocks did threat to end thy daies, 
No doubt, thou could st have wisht thyselfe at home, 
To live, and lay thy bones in sweete Odcombe. 
But after thou hadst past those furious pikes, 
Which feare and terrour to the Pilgrime strikes ; 
And did the Garden of our world descrie, 
Within the wombe of fertill Lombardie : 
Immortall Mantua could not steale thy love, 
Nor once from Odcombe thine affections move. 
Wherein, Ulysses-like, thou didst display 
Such love, as he bore to his Ithaca. 



Richard What should I speake of that rare Patience, 

actley. When thou wast forced (with no small expence) 

To exercise it on those Hackneys vile, 
Which rather would lie down, then ride a mile. 

Thy continence no Lais could diffame, 
For thou earnest forth, unburned of the flame. 

But oh ! how providently didst thou cant, 
When thou didst play the crafty Mendicant? 
This tricke (they say) did stand thee in stead, 
Or else thou might st have hopt without thy head. 

Now if these notes may immateriall seeme, 
To them that know rightly how to deeme, 
I pardon crave in thy behalfe and mine, 
If in our judgements we have miss t the line : 
For with thee in this point I sympathize, 
Oft vainer objects do my sence surprize. 

But whither Muse? two long Mid-sommer daies 
Are not enough for to depaint his praise : 
Thinke thou not neare his industry to come, 
Who in five moneths saw most of Christendome : 
Reserve thou rather thy Poeticke vaine 
Him to salute, when he returnes again 
From that victorious voiage he intendeth 
To th utmost confines, where the round world endeth, 
Or if Dame Nature hath some world in store, 
Which never was discovr d heretofore, 
Yea thither our Columbus with his lance, 
Thy conqu ring colours (O Odcombe) shall advance. 

BUT ; 

I feare that whilst I sing his praises hie, 
Many will taxe me for prolixitie : 
If for this fault my Coryate pardon give, 
I will not them desire mee to relieve. 
For of thee onely (O Polypragmon great) 
I pardon for my exorbitance intreat : 
The sesquipedall belly of thy Tome 
Pleading for mee, to stoppe the mouth of Mome. 

Explicit Richardus Badley. 



Incipit Joannes Loiseau de Tourval 
Parisiensis A. 

Elegie encomiastique, a Maitre Monsieur Thomas Jean 
Coryate, dont 1 heureuz Anagramme est, Ca, ho, 

TOus ces Gallans esprits de qui P Artiste Muze 
Change un Sot, en Socrate, en Febus, une buze, 
Qui d un fat, d un batard, d un animal sans yeuz, 
Font un superlatif des homines & des Dieuz ; 
Sur les maigres seillons d une folatre arene, 
Perdent bien a credit & leur tenis & leur peyne. 
Mais puisqu a dire vray, je ne suis pas meilleur 
Que tant de gens de bien, ce m est beaucoup d honneur 
De danser avec euz, comme le bal me meine, 
Et, quoy qu humble & de loin, suyure leur belle veine, 
Silz sont folz, 1 estre aussi ; les consciencieuz 
Avoir noz beauz ecrits n en jugeront pas mieux : 
Mais le grand f Sibolot que nous voulons decrire 
Est bien tel voirement qu on n en peut assez dire ; 
Et certes ne croy pas qu onques du monde 1 oeil 
Ait veu, on puisse voir un qui luy soit pareil. 
Vray bon homme, si douz & si plein d innocence, 
Que son plus haut savoir luy est comme ignorance : 
Nouveau Ulysse a pie, dont les voyages Ions, 
Ont bien montre qu il a 1 esprit jusqu auz talons, 
Voire jusqu auz Souliers, tant cette ame beniste, 
Se delecte d emplir un double cuyr de beste : 
Souliers judicieux, Souliers qui clair-voyans 
A force de servir au JMonstre de noz ans, 

* Reste le mot de trois lettres. 

f C est pource qu il est parent des Sybiles, en Grec, ou bien a lenuy 
de ce grand Filosofe qui florissoit en France, souz Henry III, a la grand 
joye de toute la Cour, & etoit ordinairement vetu de couleur de 

\ Pource qu il est rare en tout savoir ; ou bien, rare de savoir ; ou 
bien de savoir rare ; ou bien, qu il a le savoir, ou le cerveau rare ; Ou 
bien, pource qu il nous montre, ou plutot desmontre a vivre. 



Jean Loiseau Quoy qu aver maints ennnuyz, maints trouz, maints 

* TmL peussages, 

Ne 1 ont jamais voulu quitter en ses voyages ; 

Sages comme loyauz, afin d entrer en part 

De 1 honneur qu aujour d huy a leur maitre on 


D estre un jour etalez en son brave Epitafe, 
Et au lieu d eperons mis sur son Cenotafe, 
Remportans cet honneur vers la Posterite, 
Qui lz etoyent Souliers preuz, & de grand loyaute. 
Souliers, heureuz Souliers, a qui bien j accompare 
De tous ces beauz esprits la brigade tres-rare ; 
Car comme ces Souliers en voyages, sejours, 
Tavernes, Cabarets, le porterent tousiours ; 
Ainsi tousiours quelcun de la bande subtile 
Le porte a son cote tout du long de la Vile, 
Et, pensans telle fois se sauver a repos 
Dedans leur Cabinet, le portent sur le dos : 
Et n y a bon repas, bien qu abonde la soupe 
Si le Joyeuz n y est pour defray er la troupe. 
Voire de telz encor ay-je ouy raconter, 
Qui ont tant affecte ces Souliers imiter, 
Que ne pouvant si bien de leur peau luy faire offre 
Pour en faire chaussure, ilz Pont mis dans un coffre, 
Porte, comme un cors Saint, jusque devant le Roy, 
Dont le bon homme fut un peu en desarroy ; 
Et moy mesme aujourdhuy, tout glorieuz, j attache 
Mes vers a ces Souliers & de veau & de vache, 
Pour ma tasche d honneur ; car de monter plus bas, 
Petit comme je suis, il ne m apartient pas, 
Aussi je ne pourrois. Or quant a sa doctrine, 
Son savoir mirlifie, digne qu on *lembeguine, 
Son livre exuperant, fruyt d un pareil esprit, 
la n avienne pour moy qu il en soit trop peu dit : 

* Non comme un Enfant, non ; ny comme a 1 hotel de Bourgongne ; 
mais les plus anciens & savans avocats d Angleterre portent pour orne- 
ment & prerogative une coiffe de linge delie, comme une espece de 
beguin pardessouz leur Chapeau. 



Jay voulu seulement faire comme les autres, J an Loiseau 

7 f-TJ f 1 

Pardonnez moy, Messieurs ; Et comme 1 un des votres 

A sagement loiie Silvestre on son Bartas, 

Je confesse, simplet, que je ne Penten pas ; 

Et bien qu onques ailleurs mon nom nay voulu mettre, 

Je suis content quil soit y mis en grosse lettre. 

Explicit Joannes L oiseau de Tourval 
Parisiensis A. 

Incipit Henricus Peacham. 

Memoriae Sacrum. Henry 

Seu calcei Laureati Thomae Coryati Odcombiensis, 
Peregrinantium nostri Seculi facile Principis. 

Ad Thomam nostrum. 

CUr Coryate tibi calcem Phcebeia Daphne 
Cinxerit, & nudse Laurea nulla comae? 
Insanos mundi forsan contemnis honores, 
Ignibus & Lauro es tutus ab * ^Emilia. 
Verms at capitis pleni (Coryate) miserta 
In calces imos Musa rejecit onus. 

[To the 

* Authoris amicae Venetas. 
C. C. 113 H 

W 1 


Henry To the famous Traveller ever to be esteemed the joy of his 
Peacham. Somersetshire, Thomas Coryate of Odcombe, professed 
enemy to the Gentle-Craft or Mysterie of Shoo-makers. 

"Hy doe the rude vulgar so hastily post in a mad- 


To gaze at trifles, and toyes not worthy the viewing ? 
And thinke them happy, when may be shew d for a penny 
The Fleet-streete Mandrakes, that heavenly Motion of 


Westminster monuments, and Guild hall huge Corinaeus, 
That home of Windsor (of an Unicorne very likely) 
The cave of Merlin, the skirts of old Tom a Lincolne. 
King Johns sword at Linne, with the cup the Fraternity 

drinke in, 
The Tombe of Beauchampe, and sword of Sir Guy a 

Warwicke : 

The great long Dutchman, and roaring Marget a Barwicke, 
The Mummied Princes, and Caesars wine yet i Dover, 
Saint James his Ginney Hens, the *Cassawarway moreover, 
The Beaver i the Parke (strange beast as er e any man 

Downe-shearing willowes with teeth as sharpe as a hand 

The Lance of John a Gaunt, and Brandons still i the 

Tower ; 

The fall of Ninive, with Norwich built in an hower. 
King Henries slip-shoes, the sword of valiant Edward. 
The Coventry Boares-shield, and fire-workes seen but to 


Drakes ship at Detford, King Richards bed-sted i Leyster, 
The White Hall whale bones, the silver Bason i Chester ; 
The live-caught Dog-fish, the Wolfe and Harry the Lyon, 
Hunks of the Beare-garden to be feared, if he be nigh on. 
All these are nothing, were a thousand more to be scanned, 
(Coryate) unto thy shooes so artificially tanned : 

*An East Indian bird at Saint James in the keeping of Mr Walker, 
that will carry no coales, but eate them as whot as you will. 



That through thicke and thinne, made thee so famous a Henry 

Trotter, Peacham. 

And bore thee o re the Alpes, where sidewaies, long, like 

an Otter 
Thou climb dst and clambred st, there single solie 


(Another Alcides) thy labours lustily mounting. 
And as Alcides did scorne to weare any linnen, 
So Coryate shirtlesse did as well as if he had beene in 
The bravest Lyons hide, with the taile downe fairly 

depending : 

But matchless Coryate, since now thy labour hath ending, 
And since th art well againe unto thy Country returned : 
Thy very heeles by me shall be with Laurell adorned. 

In the Utopian Tongue. 

NY thalonin ythsi Coryate lachmah babowans 
O Asiam Europam Americ-werowans 
Poph-himgi Savoya, Hessen, Rhetia, Ragonzie 
France, Germanien dove Anda-louzie 
Not A-rag-on 6 Coryate, 6 hone vilascar 
Einen tronk Od-combe ny Venice Berga-mascar. 

Explicit Henricus Peacham. 

Incipit Jacobus Field. 

OF all the Toms that ever yet were nam d James Field. 

Was never Tom like as Tom Coryate fam d. 
Tom Thumbe is dumbe, untill the pudding creepe, 
In which he was intom d, then out doth peepe. 
Tom Piper is gone out, and mirth bewailes 
He never will come in to tell us tales. 
Tom foole may go to schoole, but nere be taught 
Speake Greeke with which our Tom his tongue is fraught. 
Tom-Asse may passe, but for all his long eares 
No such rich jewels as our Tom he weares. 


James Field. Tom Tell-Troth is but froth, but truth to tell 
Of all Toms this Tom bears away the bell. 

Explicit Jacobus Field. 


Incipit Glareanus Vadianus. 

A Sceleton or bare Anatomic of the Punctures and 
Junctures of Mr. Thomas Coryate of Odcombe, in loose 
verse called by the Italians, versi sciolti, because they 
go like Tom-boyes, scalciati without hose or shoe, 
bootlesse and footlesse : Perused this last Quarter of the 
Moone, and illustrated with the Commentaries of Mr. 
Primrose Silkeworme, student in Gastrologia and 

BEauclerke 1 of 2 Odcombe, Bellamy of Fame, 
Learnings quicke Atome, wits glosse on Natures 


3 Sembriefe of time the five finger of game, 
Ambs-ace of blots, sweep-stake of what comes next. 
March-pane of Mirth, the 4 Genoua past of love, 
The Graces 5 gallipot, 6 Musicks fiddle-sticke, 

1 A shrunke word of two into one, such as are, Hardyknowt, or Hogs- 
snout, the name of Pope Sergius. So Atome for Ah Tom. 

2 The Arpinum of this second Cicero. A village before Ignoble ; now 
by him raised to tenne rials of plate, and of which himselfe is the 
Chorographicall Mappe. 

3 A musicall note containing foure odde humored crotchets, and 
sixteene semiquavers as madde as March hares. 

4 He meaneth a pantrie coffin made of paste, in which the white 
Blackmoore (as Gusman de Alpharach calleth the Genouesi Moros 
blancos) stew certaine powerfull words called parole intoineate to 
charme Bridegroomes points nover L esquillette. 

5 It is a vessel into which womens teares blended with loves sighes are 
distilled through a Serpentine or Crusible into a pure elixir, to cure 
Junoes kibe-heele. 

6 The Augures lituus or bended staffe, wherewith in the scale of 
Musicke men take the Altitude and elevation of a flat from the sharpe in 
Chromatique Symphonic. 



The spout 7 of sport, and follies turtle Dove, Glareanus 

8 Noddie turn d up, all made, yet lose the tricke. Vadianus. 

Thou Chesse-board pawne, who on one paire of shoes 

Hast trode the foote-ball of this worlds Center, 

Discovering places 9 couch d betweene the poles. 

Where honest vertue never yet durst enter. 
How should I sing thy worth in fitting layes, 

With starveling verses of an hide bound Muse, 

And crowne thy head with misletoe for bayes, 

Unlesse thy 10 knapsacke did new thoughts infuse ? 
Such Gallo-Belgicke Mercuries are not chipt 

From every billet, nor each axle-tree : 

Nature her selfe in thee herselfe out-stript 

When she produc d this vagrant Humble-Bee, 
Whose buzze hath fild this worlds circled round, 

Hing d on the Articke and Antarticke starre, 

And whose great fame finds now no other bound 

Then from the Magellan strait to Gibraltar. 
Whose glorious deeds out-face and fiercely daunt 

11 Guzman of Spaine, and Amadis of France, 

Uterpendragon, Urson, and Termagant, 

Great Don Quixote, and Joane of Orleance. 

7 The spout of sport, as a chimney is of smoake. 

8 Noddy ego, being Anagrammatized is Don Diego, who was a 
famous reader in the Bay of Mexico, where in steed of the seven liberall 
sciences, the seven deadly sinnes are publikely read and professed. 

9 He meaneth the Gallery of Donna Amorosa the old Countess of 
Orgueil in Arabia deserta, which is a meere magazin of verdugals, 
whither those courteous Dames called Cortesans (as M. Thomas him- 
selfe hath elegantly unshaled the word unto us) that doe enter to barter 
or chaffer, elles perdent la vertu, mais la galle leur demeur. 

10 He meaneth a soldiers or a travellers trusse, or fardle, or budget, 
which the old Romans called mulos Marianos. 

11 These stories are found written in the Annales of the ebs and flouds 
of the Caspian sea, and in the third tome of the wars between the Milt 
and the Splene. Tit. Diaphragma, cap de Rumbis ; whither for brevi 
ties sake I remit the Reader. For to set tales upon Fables is as directly 
against the Pragmaticks of Spaine, as to weare seda sobre seda, satten 
upon silke, or creame upon milke. 



Glareanus Ludgate the floud-gate of great Londons people, 
Vadtanus. With double doores receives a wight so dapper : 
Bell-man and knell-man, gentrie of the steeple, 
Do peale thy praise with Rousse & Bow-bell clapper. 

Whiles I thy goodly frame do seeke to scanne, 
How part to part doth mortise, knit, and linke, 
I boulted have my spirits to the branne, 
And left my wits fast fettred in the Clinke. 

For Tom s a 12 cap-stone, and a turne-spit jacke, 
A skrewed engine Mathematicall, 
To draw up words that make the welkin cracke 
Out of a wit strangly dogmaticall. 

Tom 13 is an Irish Harpe, whose heart-strings tune, 
As fancies wrest doth straine or slacke his cord, 
Sometimes he warbleth sweet as a stewd prune, 
And sometimes jarres out of a crackt sound-board. 

Tom 14 is the padlocke of all secrecie, 

Whose tongue the tell-tale of whats done and more, 

Vents out the barmy froth of surquedrie, 

By thirteene to the dozen, thirtie to the skore. 

Tom s a 15 Bologna sawcidge lovely fat, 

Stuft with the flesh of a Westphalian sow, 
The shoing-horne of wine, that serveth pat 
To make the feeble strong, the strong to bow. 

Tom is a 16 twinne, and yet an Odde, and both, 

12 This is a terme in the Art Trochelicke or Hydraulick waterworks, 
according to which Quintilian saith of an old man that he doth pituitam 
trochlea educere : He pulleth up his tough fleame with a Crane and a 

13 D. Stapleton hath written a booke de Tribus Thomis. This is a 
Tom fit to be comprised in tribus Tomis. 

14 I reade in Thomas de Combis of one Thomas, surnamed the sage, 
sapient the eight of that name, who for special merite was chosen 
Tribune of the wether-cocks of Ipswich, a man nobly and lineally 
descended from great Solon, because on one paire of soles he footed 
it to Venice. 

15 A French Quelque chose farced with oilet holes, and tergiversations, 
and the first blossoms of Candid Phlebotomie. 

16 Tom in Hebrew signifieth a twinne. 



Twinne shoes, odde shirt, and both by combination : Glareanus 
Which Odde-twinne-triple-one, to speaken troth, 
Hath runne a wild-goose race, a pilgrims station : 

This, and all this, is Tom, and yet 17 much more, 
A Mandrake growne under some 18 Heavie-tree, 
There where S. Nicolas knights not long before 
Had dropt their fat axungia to the lee. 

The 19 neck-weed-gallow-grasses sapling plant, 
A Mushrum startled with a thunder-clap, 
Which without noble stocke or such like vaunt 
In one nights space grew out of Floraes lap. 

Yet for all this, Tom, thou hadst proved soone 
Abortive, and a fondling worth but little, 
Had not thy sire, the man that s in the Moone, 
Oft fed thee in thy youth with 20 Cuckow spittle. 

Then treade the steps of th Author of thy birth, 

Who once doth every Moneth surround the earth. 

Explicit Glareanus Vadianus. 


Incipit Richardus Hughes Cambro-Britannus 

Regi a Pedibus. 
Englyn unodl inion. 

Candish a Drak i gwendid Ihywiaist Richard 

Mewn lhawer aflendid : Hughes. 

Dyscaist fwy mewn dwy eskid, 
Yr hen gorph, na rhain i gid. 

Explicit Richardus Hughes Cambro- 
Britannus Regi a Pedibus. 

17 He is the Retracian side of Fortunes title Page, who is said 
utramque paginam implere. 

18 A land-mark neere Excester, disterminating life and death to those 
Pilgrims that upon the high waies bid men stand, in steed of bidding 
them good-morrow. 

19 The herbe knot-grasse, called inGreekeThrotbolarios,or Stopp-wind- 
pippion, wherewith they were wont to give the Commonwealth a vomit, 
vide Aristoxenum de foraminibus tibiarum. Pag. 44000 paulo post finem. 

20 May it please thee Reader to be advertised out of Germany, that 
this is nothing else but honie dew, called syderum saliva. 



Incipit Thomas Coryatus. 

Thomas Thomas Coryati hujus operis Authoris ad Benevolum 
Coryat. Lectorem de suo Viaggio, Leonini & Macaronici 


I Lie ego qui didici longos andare caminos 
Vilibus in scrutis, celeri pede, senza cavallo ; 
Cyclico-gyrovagus coopertos neigibus Alpes 
Passavi, transvectus equo cui nomina, Ten-toes. 

Nulla viandanti mihi fit mutatio vestis ; 
Non cum pennachis nigri berretta veluti 
Bambalea in testa ; nulla est guippona satini 
Toscano de more nitens ; sed plena pidocchis, 
Et de fustagna squalens pourpointa Milana 
Courans espaldas, nee habens paupercula faldas. 
Una capatorum mihi paia est, una camisa. 

His ego comptus, iter capio, rodeando per acres 
Grisonas & Rhsetos, me tessaro-trochlea raptat 
Esseda, per foltas sylvas, altasque sierras. 
Menses bis binos, valles clivosque supinos 
Transegi superans. Video te grassa Verona, 
Bergamaque Italise nova Pergama, qua stabulatus 
f Succidus urina madui bene lotus equina. 

Venegiam ingressus, spaciosam Dive Piazzam 
Marce tuam lustro, Mercatorumque Rialtum. 
Dumque suis scalmis Golfum mea Gondola verrit, 
j^Estu barca Maris nuotat ; novus aestus amoris 
jEmyliana tuas subito me truccat ad aedes. 
Ulcera bubarum, ferret me paura verollae 
Bordellas intrare vetans, & rumor honesti. 
Me torret tua bionda Chioma, & tua guancia bella 
Purpureas imitata rosas ; duo giglia pura 
Morbidae utraeque manus ; Lactis vas, poppa bianca 

* Vox admirantis. f Succido. Italice wet, moist. 

I Morbido. Ital. Smooths. 


Lactis candorem sobrat, lactisque cremorem : Thomas 

Crapula me cepit, quare conversus, avorton 
Parturii, crudos boccones ore momordi : 
Pectoreque evomui, quos nunc submittere stampse 
Allubuit : tu lector ave, nostrasque Cucinge 
Cruda, tui stomachi foculo, bene digere frusta. 

Explicit Thomas Coryatus. 


[An Oration 


Oration on 



Made by Hermannus Kirchnerus, 

A Civil Lawyer, Orator, Cassarean Poet, and Pro 
fessor of Eloquence and Antiquities in the famous 
Universitie of Marpurg, in the Landgraviate of 
Hassia, and pronounced in the same Universitie, 
by a Noble Scholler of his, George Haunschildt, 
of Furstenfeldt, a Moravian, concerning this 
subject : That young men ought to Travell 
into forraine Countryes, and all those 
that desire the praise of Learning, 
and atchieving worthy actions, 
both at home and abroad. 

F any of you (most noble Auditors) hath 
heretofore marvelled what is the reason, 
that both in ancient times, and especially 
in this our age, there have bin found so 
many young men of a most noble and 
excellent towardnesse and witte, who 
though they could live at home a most 
peaceable, pleasant and quiet life in the very bosomes of 
their dearest parents, in abundance of riches, in all plenty 
of dainties, in infinite delights, in the imbracings of their 
friends and kinsfolkes, in the love of their most sweete 
countrey, and the happy solace of their owne houses; 
yet neglecting all these things, and the most pleasant 
fruition of their fathers habitation, desire to goe into a 



certain voluntary banishment out of their native coun- Hermann 
tries, and with a valiant and couragious minde, to expose Kirchner s 

themselves to the tempests of forraine climates, and to rj a 
11- r r i * ravei. 

the bitter stormes or fortune ; and to undergoe so many 

and so great difficulties, labours and toyles, so many 
calamities, misfortunes and miseries, even to the uttermost 
hazard of their life and welfare : I will bring the matter 
to passe by meanes of this my Oration, which is written 
of the incredible utility of travel, and the admirable 
sweetnesse thereof, that from henceforth he shall cease 
to marvell, or rather, which is the chiefest thing of all, I 
doubt not (my fellow Academicks) but that, if according 
to your singular benevolence, favour, and humanity, you 
will lend me your gentle eares and willing mindes (which 
I expect from you) and will somewhat diligently and 
attentively weigh the arguments and reasons of my 
speech, there is not one of you all which wil not presently 
desire, having trussed up his necessaries, and packed up 
his fardels, to draw on his bootes, put his riding hat upon 
his head, raise himselfe upon his wings, hoise sailes, and 
mount on horsbacke (according to the proverbe) and 
post the neerest way to forraine and remote Nations ; 
imitating Ulysses that most worthy example of travelling, 
to compasse the whole circumference of the earth, by farre 
Voyages, and with ./Eneas in Virgil, to be tossed up and 
downe both by land and Sea. For I will shew, that there 
can be no nearer way to the attayning of true wisedome, 
and all experience of a civill life, no speedier meane to 
aspire to the governement of a Common-weale, no plainer 
path to purchase immortality of praise, dignity, honour 
and glory ; and in summe I will prove, that in the whole 
life of man there is nothing sweeter, nothing pleasanter, 
nothing more delightfull then travell. 

Wherefore (my gentle Auditors) I most earnestly crave 
this of you, that you would affoord this my Oration, 
which is as it were a travell of the minde, the favourable 
gale of your benevolence, and the faire Sun-shine of your 
gracious attention, and yeeld the sayles of your favour, to 



Hermann^ the end I may the better accomplish my purpose, and bring 
Kirchner i m y course to a w i s hed end. And that which I have first 
Travel ^ a ^ proposed unto my selfe (my Auditors) is such a 
thing, as may easily be knowne and perceived without 
my Oration, or any other mans. For whereas all of us 
are to endeavour, as much as in us lieth, that we may 
seeme rather to adorne and amplifie, then cast away or 
diminish that dignity and excellency, which by a speciall 
priviledge is given by God unto man above all other 
creatures ; and since such is the infirmity of our nature, 
such a darkenesse in abstruse matters, such stupidity of 
wit, such dulnesse of minde, such blindnes and slendernes 
of judgement, that unlesse there be added unto us a 
certaine diligent institution and right information, we 
cannot perceive, know, or understand any thing at all in 
humane studies, or ingenuous arts, and divine sciences : 
Surely I thinke there is none of you so voyde of discre 
tion, or ignorant of all these things, when he perceiveth 
farre greater and thicker darkenes and mistes in us, then 
that the subtility of our wits, and the clearenes of our 
mindes can of its owne strength discover and shew it 
selfe, which doth not understand, that we ought to procure 
our selves abroad and from forraine countries those helpes 
and instruments, wherewith the sharpnesse of the minde, 
and that force and naturall brightnesse may be stirred up, 
polished and instructed : and that therefore from our 
tender years, sith that age is most capable of disciplines, 
we are to seeke for Masters, use faithfull instructers and 
informers of our life and manners, which may correct our 
rudenesse, instruct our ignorance, garnish our wits, and 
from their most glittering and resplendent light kindle 
light & understanding in us, & instill and infuse into us 
arts, sciences, & necessary, most profitable, and excellent 
learning ; which if we cannot have in our owne pro 
vinces and countries, we ought to trace them out by sea 
and land, and with all diligence and industry, to seeke 
for them like pretious pearles. For that high ruler of 
mankind, that supreme and potent Author, & preserver 



of al things, hath by his divine will and heavenly pro- Herman^ 

vidence so disposed this Universe, and so prudently ^ rcfiner s 
.. .,,.*., . 1.111- i i Oration on 

distinguished it with that admirable diversity and order, Travel. 

that one country is more fruitfull then others ; so that in 
one and the selfe same region all & the same things do not 
grow : as Arabia is more plentiful of Frankinsence and 
spices then other countries ; one Territory yeeldeth plenty 
of wine, another of corne, another greater store of other 
things ; according to that of the Poet : 

Here corne, there grapes more plenteously do grow. 

So also those copious and admirable wits, so arts, sciences, 
and disciplines, which make us more human, or rather 
more divine, are not included in one place, in one province, 
or one house ; neither are all found in one man, but are 
divided and dispersed throughout the whole compas of 
the earth, and a very singular felicity of those things doth 
appeare more in some places then in other, even by the 
very genius of the place, and by I know not what destiny, 
and a certain kind of divinity : & as certain peculiar stars 
are fixed in their severall places, so those lights are even 
from above given unto certaine countries, and to certaine 
Nations, whom they do illustrate and beautifie, that we 
see here great praise of eloquence to flourish, there of 
more solid Philosophy : here the excellency of the 
Mathematicke sciences, there, of Astrology is esteemed : 
here the dignity of physicke, there the majesty of the 
civill law : and again in another place, the truth of holy 
religion, and the purity of heavenly doctrine doth raigne. 
If we will be partakers of these such excellent gifts, covet 
to enjoy these so great riches and delights, and desire to 
be beautified with these so singular ornaments of learning, 
we must needs undertake journeyes and long voyages to 
those renowned places, wherin this fragrancy and most 
heavenly plenty doth harbor. For art useth neither wings 
nor feet that it should eyther go or fly unto us, neither 
can all these things be knowen by the mute sounds of 
books, but we must rather go unto those learned men, 



Herman^ know & search for many things, and gather many things 
iichnen ^ Qur ^ an j s ig. nt p or good God, what Historio- 
Urationon J . > .,, r ... 

Travel. grapher can you exemplme unto me, or what credite, 
knowledge or experience soever he was, that hath not 
for the most part beene personally present at those matters, 
which hee hath thought good to commit to the monu 
ments of letters that hath not with his owne eyes scene 
those places whereof he maketh a description to others ; 
that hath not observed the manners and behaviour of 
those men, whom he eyther praiseth or dispraiseth ? What 
Orator that hath not from all places sought out the very 
flowers of languages, and gathered together the art of all 
those things wherewith the mind of an Orator ought to be 
furnished, and which hath not noted the pronunciation, 
gestures, and elegant actions of most eloquent men ? 
What Astrologer that hath not observed that high 
fabricke of heavenly things in the divers climes of 
Heaven, and noted that most swift motion of the Spheares, 
and the immutable order of the Starres ? What Naturalist 
that hath not sought out the mysteries of nature, and 
searched out the admirable variety of all naturall things? 
What Physitian that hath not sifted the divers kindes of 
humors and diseases, and dived into the force and vertue 
of all severall hearbes, the incredible multitude whereof 
is distinguished with insatiable variety? What Civilian 
that hath not knowen the divers manners of sundry 
Nations and people, their customes, Statutes and Lawes? 
What Divine that hath not travelled unto those places, 
wherein the purity of Religion doth flourish, which hath 
not learned besides other necessary artes, the Greeke and 
Hebrew tongues, whereby he may the better fight for the 
Charter of the everlasting King of heaven, against the 
trumpery reliques of Gods desperate enemies, and be the 
better able to confute the sophisticall fallacies, and foolish 
quirkes of heretiques, that are devised for the deeceite 
and overthrow of the godly ? Therefore if thou wouldest 
aske counsell of nature her selfe, which is that most 
provident and faithfull mother of us all, and wouldest 



demand of her the meanes and shortest way to attaine to Hermann^ 
divers kindes of learning ; certes she would shew thee no ^ rchner 
other then that of travell. Travell, she would say, travell 
to Athens, Marseilles, Bononia, Padua, Paris, and betake 
thy selfe to other Mart townes of learning, which do every 
where flourish. Desirest thou to be instructed in 
heavenly doctrine, and aspirest thou to the knowledge of 
divine things? follow thou the Church of Christ, still 
travelling in pilgrimage ; which because it is not affixed 
to any certaine countrey, nor tyed to any one particular 
place, but being tossed to and fro after the manner of a 
little Barke, with waves and the injuries of tempests, 
and driven about in the Sea of the whole world, lives here 
and there in banishment ; so that I would have thee learne 
subtilty from some Austine, perspicuity from Athanasius, 
sweetnes from Gregory, and eloquent learning from 
Nazianzen, and some Nyssen. Desirest thou the glory 
of wisedome in the knowledge of the civill law, and the 
science of the sacred lawes? Goe then into Greece with 
those most noble Decemviri of Rome : enquire for Solons 
tables : gather the Ordinances of Lycurgus : with Sulpitius 
go to the Mutii, and aske counsell of the Papiniani, 
Nasicas, Scipiones, and Ulpiani. Dost thou propose unto 
thy selfe the praise of learning in the faculty of physick ? 
then do thou with Hippocrates, with Galen, with Dios- 
corides, with Paracelsus, that were most excellent 
Physitians travell into Lemnos, into Arabia, into 
Greece ; and as often as thou hast travelled about any 
Region, so often I would have thee perswade thy selfe 
thou hast read a new leafe in the booke of nature. Dost 
thou covet to excell in the Mathematickes, in Astronomy, 
in the Optickes, and in the whole course of Philosophy? 
Imitate Euclide, of whom we reade that hee followed the 
Atticke Muses, being disguised in womens attire, when 
it was not lawfull for any of the Megarean men to enter 
into the City of Athens. Travell thou to some Pytha 
goras, some Archimedes, some Ptolemeus, some Aristotle, 
if thou nearest that any of them are revived. Doost 



Hermann thou labour to attaine to dignity and honour by eloquence ? 
seeke for some Demosthenes, some Isocrates, some 

Travel Hortensius, some Cicero. Doost thou apply thy minde 
to the study of History? goe then to Livie, if there be 
any in the world, with those that are said to have come 
to Rome from the farthest Caliz, to heare that milkie 
fountain of eloquence. Associate thyselfe with Caesar, 
Polybius, and Pausanias, and accompany the Scipioes and 
Metelli, even to their Tents and skirmishes, and to the 
middest of their warlike conflicts. That this was the 
onely way to true wisedome, those auncient lovers of 
wisedome knew, whom no length of journeys, no 
difficulties of sea voyages, no injuries of tempests could 
discourage. This doth witnes that divine Plato, who 
having travelled as far as Nilus, purchased the greatest 
part of his divine wisdome from the very innermost closets 
of Egypt, who searched for all the abstruser mysteries 
thereof, with the admirable subtility of his wit, sifted all 
the monuments of antiquity with most singular industry, 
and entred into the very marrow and pith itselfe of Moses 
truth. This doth witnesse that most noble Philosopher 
Anacharsis, so famous amongst the Auncients, who having 
escaped from the barbarous rudenesse of the Scythians, 
and travelled very long journeys, with singular endevour 
& alacrity of minde, came to Athens, & there shaked off 
the deformed uglinesse of his grosse ignorance and 
barbarisme ; whereof he had never quitted himselfe, if he 
had preferred his domesticall lurking corners before the 
desire of travell. This doth witnesse that great Aristotle, 
who by his daily travels purchased himselfe such wisedome, 
such learning, such knowledge of true Philosophy, and 
such understanding, that you may justly call him the 
father of all the Philosophers that ever have beene ; yea 
the very sonne and miracle of nature. This doth witnesse 
Zamolxis and infinite more, who having travelled from 
their owne houses, naked in a manner, destitute of all 
better discipline and nurture, and voyde of humanity, have 
returned home singularly furnished and adorned with all 



kinde of qualities of the minde, and all such worthy gifts Herman^ 

as can be incident to a man. Kinhners 

TTTMI 1 ^.-111 Oration on 

Will you have me produce to you Cicero, that notable Travel. 

ornament of eloquence ? who that hee might attaine to that 
glory of speaking that he hoped for, travelled into Greece, 
and at Athens besides Antiochus, a most sharpe and wise 
Philosopher, conversed with Demetrius a Syrian, a most 
noble and eloquent master of eloquence, and very industri 
ously exercised himselfe with him. After that he travelled 
over all Asia, and bestowed the like diligence with the 
excellent Orators thereof. Againe after that he sailed to 
Rhodes, and now the third time applied himselfe to Molo 
that most singular Pleader, whom hee had before twise 
heard in Rome ; to the end that now at length he might 
with his great industry and diligence supply the defect 
of nature, which denied him the instruments of pleading. 
Will you have me shew you great troupes of worthy 
fellowes, that went out of the City of Rome? For 
albeit the Romanes were seated in the principall habitation 
of the whole earth, and contained within the wals of their 
Citie, as it were an abridgement and Epitome of all 
Regions and all Countries ; yet they went to Marseilles 
in France and travelled into Greece, and from Athens 
returned home adorned with the Atticke learning. For 
indeed they considered that all wits, whatsoever naturall 
instinct of towardnes they have, do waxe dull and even 
die, being included within the narrow bounds of their 
domesticall seats, & that there is no dulnes of mind, no 
darkenes so great which is not in a manner kindled with 
the course of travels, and in all respects made more cleere 
and vigorous. But to what end doe I recall your eares 
to the statues of ancient men, even to the almost abolished 
Images of antiquity, and to dead examples? Why doe 
I not rather place your eyes upon these living faces and 
countenances, whose sight and cleernes we enjoy? Why 
doe I not even with this finger shew you the most noble 
fruites of travell in that worthy man Mr. John Ferivarius, 
the Rector of our Universitie, who carrieth before us as 

c. c. 



Hermann^ the Scepter, so also the very Torch or Lampe of all 
^fatiotfdn vertues? wno b y his travelles f France, Italy, the 
Travel. Netherlands, and survay of other Provinces, hath attained 
to very great learning, & such experience of matters, that 
hath made him very much commended and esteemed even 
amongst strangers. Behold that admirable toppe of 
Civilians ; I name thee (most famous Vulteius) upon thee 
I convert the minds and eyes of all my Auditors, which 
mayest be a living Oration unto us of travell, worthy to 
be praysed ; who hast visited France, discoursed with the 
Doctors of France, hast travelled over Italy, and disputed 
there with Menochius : hast also travelled into Denmarke, 
having worthily performed a noble Embassage to the 
King. Cast your eyes upon the other most reverend and 
famous men that are here present, which have undertaken 
very difficult and long journeys for learning sake, and by 
the same have attained to that singular knowledge, and 
admirable experience of all things, wherewith they do not 
onely beautifie this University, and with great praise 
instruct us, but also do make famous and renowned 
amongst other Nations, our whole Province of Hassia, 
and also all Germany, which is our common country. But 
if (my noble Auditors) our eyes cannot endure the bright- 
nesse of these most glittering lights, that are even dazeled 
as it were in the Sun-shining at mid-day : let us propose 
before our eyes that most beautifull Theatre of the 
Universe, let us behold whatsoever is abroad in the world ; 
let us looke into Provinces, see Cities, runne over King- 
domes and Empires : surely we shall finde those people 
to be rude, slouthfull, incivill, rough, outragious, foolish, 
barbarous, voyde of all humanity, civility, and courteous 
entertainment, proude, arrogant, puffed up with a selfe- 
love and admiration of themselves ; also effeminate, 
wanton, given to sleepe, banquetings, dice and idlenes, 
corrupted with the allurements of all pleasures, and the 
inticements of all concupiscences ; those I say, which have 
used no journeys, no Sea- voyages, no travels, which have 
not exercised any commerce or intercourse with other 



Nations. Againe we shall perceive those to be of a facill Herman^ 
nature, modest, courteous, loving, gentle, kind in enter- ^ rc/iners 

, , & &. ,. , Oration on 

tamment, and by the very bent of vertue inclined to good Travel. 
discipline, whose wits the heat of divers travels hath 
ripened, the performance of many journeys hath mollified, 
and the knowen manners and discipline of other men have 
instructed. For who is so wicked, whom so many and 
excellent examples of vertue and piety, so many heroicall 
exploits of worthy and valiant men, whose lively images 
he beholdeth, and the true shining vertue and admirable 
beauty thereof will not invite and allure to imitation ? 
Who is so unseemly attired, whom the most exquisite neat- 
nes in the habits and apparell of other nations, the laudable 
elegancy and courtesy in actions and gestures, and the 
most sweet conceits in speech will not make more polished, 
and refined ? Who is so crabbed, austere, and angry, 
whom the humanity, affability, gentlenes, and placability 
of our consorts and companions, that communicate with 
us in our journeys and Innes, wil not change? Who is 
so tender, effeminate, & cowardly, whom the heat of the 
sun, cold, snow, raine, hard seats, stony pillows, and such 
infinite inconveniences of travels, so many wailayings, and 
dangers of theevs, wil not make more couragious & 
valiant ? Who is so simple, improvident and incontinent, 
whom the subtilty of spies, the wonderful cunning of 
Inkeepers and baudes, and the great danger of his life, 
will not stirre up to vigilancy, prudence and temperance ? 
Who is so hard hearted and inhospitable, whom the 
benevolence, benignity, and helpe of strangers wil not 
mutually induce to the like offices of humanity? Who 
that is tossed with many wandrings and errors, as Dido 
was in Virgil, and not ignorant of other folkes miseries, 
will not learne to succor those that are in distresse ? Who 
is so impious, whom the sundry calamities that offer 
themselves to travellers, the labors, perillous saylings, 
waves, tempests, momentary casualties of adverse fortune 
and dangers ; and againe Gods freeing of them from the 
same will not incite to the serious & ardent invocation of 


Herman^ Q oc } s eternal majesty, and to the often celebration and 
inhner s p ra se Q f ]^ s k o i name ? Whom will not the most sweet 
Oration on * .../,., 

Travel sonets or chirping birds provoke to sing hymnes and 
verses to his creator? Finally, whom will not travell it 
selfe put in minde of the slippernes, uncertainty, & short- 
nesse of this life ? But why should I declare or amplifie the 
matter with many wordes? Let us propose the ancient 
Grecians as a notable example ; who certainly could never 
have attained to so great wisedome and learning, wherwith 
they afterward illuminated the whole earth, nor aspired 
to that praise of vertue, and glory of dignity, unlesse 
having survayed almost all the parts of the world, they 
had purchased themselves incredible experience of all 
things? These were the first that durst saile in a ship, 
the first that in that Argonauticall voyage, adventured to 
assay all the narrow arms of the Sea ; the first that tried 
al the dangerous Syrtes & rocks, and that skirmished with 
the North-east, South-west, and South windes (to use the 
Poet Horaces phrase) that they might search out those 
golden fleeces, which they knew by fame, that is, the 
mysteries of all naturall things, and hidden sciences, and 
the very innermost secrets of wisedome. Hither went 
those sayles of Jason : hither did those oares and ships 
so famoused through the whole world, and praised by the 
verses of all ages, bend their course. But why do I not 
rather declare the singular commodities of travel in our 
owne Germanes? who though they did heretofore but 
little differ from the savage fiercenesse of wilde beastes, 
wandred in Fennes and Woods after the manner of beasts, 
and by a kinde of inveterate hatred, were enemies to 
learning : yet notwithstanding they have so much profited 
by their travels, that (as Bodin is constrained to confesse, 
who otherwise is a man very sparing of the Germane 
praise) they seeme to excell the Asiatickes in humanity, 
the Romanes in military discipline, the Hebrewes in 
Religion, the Grecians in Philosophy, the Egyptians in 
Geometry, the Phenicians in Arithmeticke, the Chaldeans 
in Astrologie, and finally in variety of trades, all people 



whatsoever. From these did the Italians themselves, Hermann 

If* L 

which are otherwise most witty and inventive, send for ^ m 

._ / j r L Oration on 

most cunning artificers, to measure the bounds or their Travel. 

groundes. From these did Pope Leo, when he was 
disposed to mend the computation of the course of the 
Sunne and Moone, call Astrologers, and most excellent 
Mathematicians, by sending Ambassadors into Germany, 
no otherwise then Caesar did heretofore into Egypt. O 
thou excellent travell, and above all things most 
laudable ; unto whom not onely nature her selfe, 
the mother of us all, but also all the elements, all the 
starres, all the windes, and the glorious brightnesse of 
heaven doe seeme to affoord their grace and favour, and 
to impart their vertue : thee O travell, justly doe we call 
that most renowned Schoole, wherein we are instructed in 
good artes, sciences, and disciplines, to true wisedome 
and learning ; thee doe we truely call the Seminary of 
the worthiest vertues, wherewith we attaine to the greatest 
happinesse and blisse. You see (my Auditors) how great 
and singular benefites and commodities travell doth com 
municate to every man ; but if you will deigne to heare 
me with the same benevolent attention that you have 
begun, I will shew that it doth impart farre greater 
benefites to Common-weales. For no man can be fitter 
and with greater praise advanced to the sterne of a 
Common-weale, no man more worthily and with greater 
profite of the Citizens, promoted to those glorious honours 
of publique affairs, then he that having before travelled 
much and long with Ulysses, hath scene the divers manners 
and rites, and the beautifull Cities of many people : 
knowen the ordinances and decrees of many Common- 
weales : noted their customes : searched their lawes : 
sought for the originals and increase of King 
doms : scanned the causes of the translations and 
overthrow therof : hath observed what is in every Citie 
worthy of praise, what fit to be amended : hath learned 
what deserveth imitation, in the constitution of their 
judgements : considered what is memorable in the 


Hermann^ ordination of their magistrates, in the managing of their 

Kinhners counse l s w h a t also in their pleading place, in their field, 

Oration on . , . ^ , , , . iL 

Travel m tneir ^ enate house, in the regal court ; also what in the 
institution of their youth in their Schooles, in their 
Temples ; what againe in all their distinct Offices, in their 
Tribes, in their Arts, in their services, and manuarie 
trades : hath also noted what is worthy of observation in 
the pitching of their Campes, the making of their 
Trenches, the fortifying their Cities and Bulwarkes ; what 
in their Watches, in the mustering of their armies, in the 
forme of their battel array, in the ordering of their forces ; 
what in their skirmishes, their stratagems, their surprizals 
of wals and Cities, and what in the sacking of the enemies 
tents. Surely this is the man whom Plato doth call a 
Philosopher, who before he came to the administration of 
the Common-weale, disputed not at home in his half- 
mooned *chaire, of certaine thorny positions of Logicke, 
and other captious cavillations ; or made subtle formes of 
Syllogismes and Dilemmaes ; or wrote Geometricall circles 
in the dust of Archimedes ; or meated the pace of fleas, 
as it is in one of Aristophanes Comedies ; or composed 
the world of moats, or cast all his care and thoughts upon 
the waves of a narrow arme of the Sea ; or in his ^barrell 
conteyned a Kings wealth : but, which by traversing the 
Common-weales of many Nations, hath searched out all 
the wayes and meanes that pertain to a civill life, and the 
governing of a humane society. O happy is that Common- 
weale, which hath from above gotten some such ruler. O 
blessed is that Empire, to whom so happy a Governour 
sent downe from the very heavens hath happened. For 
this man understandeth what things are to be shunned, 
what to be embraced, what doth weaken, dissipate and 
overthrow a Kingdome, and what againe doth strengthen, 
establish & preserve it. To this end we reade that the 
Romans sent their children to Marseilles (which I have 
already named unto you) that from a well governed Citie 
they might learne those artes that are fit to rule the 

* Hemicyclo. \ Or tub. 


Common-weale. For this cause we reade that Cyrus Hermann^ 

travelled though yet but a childe, and was sent to King K*rchner>s 
A J , , ^. , . T Oration on 

Astyages court ; and that Theseus being but a stripling Trave i 

did therefore chuse rather to undertake the most dangerous 
land journey, then to use the shortnesse of a Sea voyage ; 
and we know that Hercules did for that cause travel! over 
the whole world a foote, and purchased himselfe eternity 
of name. By this meanes have all Cities, all Common- 
weales, all Kingdomes and Empires beene established. 
For some Nations have borrowed from others good 
manners, rites, lawes, statutes, arts and good disciplines. 
Lycurgus, when he travelled into Crete and Egypt, 
informed his owne Common-weale afterward with the 
lawes of those people. The Romanes having translated 
the lawes and customes of Greece into their Citie (which 
they did by the advice of one Hermodorus an Ephesian 
and a stranger) established their Empire. Our Germanes 
have borrowed from other nations, and others again from 
them good arts, disciplines, lawes, constitutions, and 
elegant manners ; as Contarenus, a man of singular 
learning and wisdome, when he perceived in our Germany, 
that it was not lawfull for every man promiscuously to teach 
private schooles as in Italy, but that with great care and 
great diligence, and not without publike authority & 
publike salaries good men were chosen to those offices, 
whose life and maners were well approved, lest perhaps 
tender youth might be corrupted by them ; being returned 
home into his country, thought it not amisse to perswade 
even his Venetians with great praise to entertaine this 
laudable custome, as being very profitable to them, and to 
receive it into their Commonweale, which is otherwise very 
wisely governed. What man, I pray you, could better or 
more worthily, or with greater gravity, greater praise, 
greater dignity, performe an Ambassage committed unto 
him eyther by a Prince or a Common-weale? What he, 
who (as the Comicke Poet saith) doth alwaies shroude 
himselfe in his house as a lame Cobler? He that did 
never put his foote out of his owne countrey soyle ? He 



Herman^ that never saw any people besides his home-bred countrey- 
Orationon men ^ ^ e ^ at never beheld any other Rivers, other 
Travel. Havens, other Bridges, then those amongst whom he hath 
alwaies lived ? He that never viewed other Castles, other 
Cities, other Provinces, other Regions then that wherin 
he was born and brought up ? He that never learned any 
other tongue besides his owne? Or rather he, which 
leaving his most sweete country dwellings hath travelled 
over many strange countries and many nations? hath 
observed the maners, lawes, and customes of all men? 
hath gotten the knowledge of divers languages? hath 
frequented many Princes Courts, many Palaces, many 
Assemblies for elections of Magistrates, and the famous 
meetings of great and eminent personages? Hath 
mollified his rough and rude matters amongst strangers? 
hath acquired unto himselfe learning, knowledge, the use 
of humane actions, and true wisedome? Who being 
familiarly acquainted with all places and customes, knoweth 
whither to goe, where to turne out of the way, that he 
may not omit the best occasions of atchieving matters for 
the good of his countrey, and cast himselfe into danger? 
Who finally hath learned how to apply himselfe to the 
time, be silent in time, speake in time, observe grave, 
illustrious, and mighty men to whom he is sent, converse 
gently and courteously with them, modestly and readily 
pronounce that which he hath to deliver, and opportunely 
to urge and prosecute the matter, that he may receive 
answer again ? Or what other Counsellor can a Prince 
chuse himselfe, whereby he may be able to helpe himselfe 
by the faith, vertue, care, study, & vigilancy of good 
counselles, then him who having by his travels gotten the 
experience of divers men and many things, and other 
knowledge, hath with Ulysses visited Alcinous his Court, 
and with Themistocles seene the wealth of the Persians? 
Who knoweth with what power, what vertue, what 
strength and ornaments every Kingdome doth flourish, 
and also knoweth the variety of civ ill employments, offices 
and ordinations? Who hath searched out the meanes of 



warre and peace, the helpes and succour thereof? For Hermann 
this Counsellor is like that opticke Glasse, wherein not K lrcfin(;r s 
onely the space of three or tenne miles, but also of a whole Travel 
Province, yea and of the whole world itselfe may be 
represented : this is that true watch-tower which Hierome 
is said to have wished for, from the which al the Kingdoms 
and all the Empires of the world may be scene and viewed. 
And to conclude, what Captain of warre is to be appointed 
over an army, if not he that hath searched the maners of 
other people, their nature and the affections of their 
mindes, & hath scene their skirmishes and exercises in 
military affaires? Who hath himselfe borne armes in the 
field, put an helmet upon his head, worn a brestplate, 
drawen his sword & thrust his dart and speare into the 
body of his enemy ? Who hath bin in many conflicts, 
many expeditions, sieges and battels, & hath tried which 
nation is nimblest to make a sudden sally, and to pursue 
the flying enemy ; which is readiest to possesse and scale 
the wals, which is fiercest to battell, which is stoutest to 
entertaine the shocke in the open field, which again is 
strongest in the troupes of horses, which is hardiest in the 
foot battell, which is puissantest in the Sea fight, and which 
is subtlest for contriving of an ambush, and inventing of 
stratagems and warlike engines? Who having followed 
the wars, hath observed true military discipline, where 
when, how, with what forces, with what forme of battel 
array it is fit to fight, what order is to be observed in 
strengthning the Flankes and rereward of the Armie, what 
souldiers are to be placed in the front if any daunger 
should occure? Who by his travells hath found out the 
conditions of many places, the qualities of Regions and 
Provinces, the site of Rivers, Valleys, and Woodes, the 
neerest wayes and by-wayes, the meanes to charge the 
enemie, plot an ambush, devise a stratageme, and surprize 
a Campe ? Who being skilfull in many tongues doth use 
from his own mouth to hearten the Souldier he hath in 
his armie to fight, and kindle their courage to battell? 
For never could the territories of Empires be amplified, 


Hermann never their bounds inlarged, never new Kingdomes 

Kinhncrs p urc h asec [ without travels. For never could the King- 
Oration on \ r . , 

Travel. dome or bpame have attained to so great power and 

strength, had not Columbus and Americus sayled to the 
South pole, and by their travels discovred new Islands. 
Never had the Romanes attained to such an extent of their 
Empire, unlesse Julius Caesar had travelled over the whole 
West part of the world, found out Britaine, before time 
unknowen to the Romanes, and gone to Cleopatra into 
Egypt. If Pompey had never travelled into Africa and 
Asia, Scipio had never fled so farre as Numantia. 

But what meane I to light a Torch unto you in a matter 
that is the cleerest of all things ? Will you have me relate 
unto you other commodities that redound unto men by 
travels ? I will shew unto you that Kings and other men 
have beene famous by travels. For this is not a rare thing 
to be scene, that they whom their domesticall fortune hath 
forsaken, and even exposed to the scoffe of the world, 
should be entertained by the benevolence of out-landish 
fortunes, and the gentle gale of forraine favours, and be 
promoted to high dignities and honors. For how fared 
it with Tarquinius Priscus? who having travelled into 
Latium out of Hetruria, wherin he was born, and in 
which he suffered a base repulse, did he not get a Scepter 
& Diadem amongst strangers ? What also did Fulco Earl 
of Anjow? Was he not in his travels made King of 
Hierusalem? By travell Themistocles purchased those 
dignities of the King of Persia, which at home in his 
owne countrey, he could never have attained to, being 
created Lord of three most beautifull Cities, Minusium, 
Magnesium, and Lampsacum. By travell Cadmus built 
Thebes, by travell Antenor built Padua, Babylon was built 
by travellers, Alba by Trojan travellers : Noble Lisbone 
had her originall from travell ; and surely my Oration 
would grow to be infinite, if I would goe about to reckon 
up those Empires, Kingdomes, Cities, and Townes, which 
would have beene none at all, if there had beene no course 
of travell. I would have the auncient wildernesses 



themselves speake, the hils, and unmanured places, which Hermann 

JS" I * 

you see now most of all inhabited ; I would have them, I Q ^" S O 
say, magnifie Travell with these wordes : O singular and Travel. 
most glorious fruites of travell, O the excellent commodi 
ties thereof, O most noble and even golden fleeces, and 
helpes much greater then al praise, which doe not onely 
delight and raise the private life of men, but also advance, 
amplifie, and preserve the publique felicity it selfe. O 
most worthy, most excellent, and with all praises to be 
extolled are all those men, which contemning all difficulties 
and dangers, desire to blesse their friends with such and 
so great benefits, joy their Common-weale, and decke their 
most deare country with everlasting memory, laud, glory 
and immortality of their name. For if they heretofore 
amongst the Romanes obtained immortall glory, which 
eyther graced, defended, or preserved their Common-weale 
by their counsels or endevours, by how much the more 
everlasting praise and immortall renowne doe they deserve, 
which for the common profite, for the benefite and prosper 
ous estate of the Common-weale refused not to expose 
themselves to so great and so many tempests and perils, 
and voluntarily to cast their life and welfare into dangers 
for the safety of their countrey? And though (my 
courteous Auditors) all those things which you have 
hitherto heard from me, could not be procured by the 
helpe of travell, so that neither wealth, nor honours, nor 
dignity, nor wisedome, nor authority, nor experience of 
all things can be thereby gotten : howbeit such is the 
sweetnesse of travelling and seeing the world, such the 
pleasure, such the delight, that I thinke that man voyde 
of all sense, and of a stony hardnes, which cannot be said 
to be moved with so great pleasure, that he had rather 
remaine in his owne house, as it were in a prison or gaole, 
then to converse in the most beautifull Theatre of nature, 
and the full court of all delights. O sluggish, abject, 
servile, and most dejected minde of all, which includeth 
it selfe within the narrow bounds of his owne house, and 
doth in a manner banish it selfe into an Island. Truely 


Hermann^ \ know not what greater punishment of deportation there 
Oration * C?in ^ e ^ n ^ ^ condemnation to eternal fetters, or to the 
Travel. mett all mines, then to be deprived and spoyled of all those 
things, which are to be seene by the admirable workman 
ship of nature in the heaven, earth and sea, and for whose 
sakes these spheares of our eyes, these lights, this sharpnes 
of sight, these senses were given unto us, that we might 
survay and contemplate all these things : these feete, these 
ankles, these motions, and faculties of running were 
graunted unto us, that we might goe unto and seeke for 
the most remote places : these handes, these fingers, these 
sinews were given unto us that we might touch and feele 
the miracles of the Omnipotent ; and being knowen unto 
us by his workmanshippe, might magnifie that high 
Architect, and Artificer of all things. How many things 
also are there, with the onely fame and hearing whereof 
we finde our mindes to be stirred up, delighted, and 
tickled with a wonderfull recreation? I will omit so 
many beautifull townes, so many populous Cities, and 
most glorious buildings, so many marble Palaces, so many 
Capitols, so many Babylonian Towers, so many auncient 
Pyramides of Egypt, so many Colossi, so many Solomoni- 
call Temples, so many statues : I will omit so many well 
fortified Castels and Mountaines, as it were heaped up by 
the fabulous Giants ; so many strong Fortresses, so many 
Armories, that are to be admired even by Mars himselfe ; 
so many artificiall workes, that do take away all fame and 
admiration from those seven auncient miracles of the 
world : I will omit so many rich treasuries, and the 
Colchicall fleeces of the Ancients, so many treasures which 
would even amaze the ancient Croesi, golden Midas, and 
the Roman Crassi : so many most plentifull Store-houses, 
and publique Magazines, for the sight whereof, even 
Triptolemus himself, the first inventer of husbandry and 
corne, would undertake very long journeys. But I will 
draw your eyes especially unto those things, which being 
wrought by the admirable cunning of nature bring 
incredible pleasure, not onely to the outward senses, but 



farre greater sweetnes to the mind also. For whom wil Hermann^ 

not so many pleasant Tempes and Paradises, so many " c " e 
T. i c 11 c 11 i 1 f i n Oration on 

Farkes mil or all kind or beasts, so many greene walkes, Travel. 

full of all sorts of hearbs, so many gardens of the 
Hesperides, Alcinoi, Tantali, Adonides and Semiramides, 
so many shady groves of all the Veneres and Graces, and 
the unspeakeable fragrancy of celestiall flowers, whom I say 
will not these things so recreate, refocillate and move that 
he should endevour to creep with the very Torteise even 
with hands and feet, to enjoy so great pleasure? O 
wearisome life, O bitter and most miserable life, which 
art deprived of such a most wished for benefit of nature, 
and of so great pleasure & joy of al things. For what is 
this else then to consume his age in grief and darknes, and 
a brutish kind of solitarines in that auncient denne of 
Trophonius, which tooke away from man all better affec 
tions, jovialnes, serenity, & the very fountain of mirth? 
what I say is this els, & how much doth it differ from that 
domestical darknes, which is destitute of the most pleasant 
light of travell? For how much do they that lurke in 
these most thicke & palpable mists differ from stocks and 
stones which want all kind of motion ? Surely all living 
creatures that are to be found in this most wide and vast 
world are delighted with running abroad & free motion. 
We see that the birds do flie abroad in the ayre, & do 
swiftly flitter their wings now to one place, now to another : 
we note the storks and swallows to flie away every 
yeare in the winter moneths, and to returne again in the 
spring : we behold the wilde beasts to wander here and 
there in woodes and forrests, fishes in Lakes and Rivers, 
and Sea-monsters in the Ocean : and if any of these 
creatures are imprisoned and taken by the wily craft of 
men, we find by daily experience that they doe with great 
longing and desire crave their former liberty, and by all 
meanes whatsoever to recover it. The very starres also 
themselves are moved with a most swift course, and all 
the nobler planets, and that high machine of all celestiall 
things is turned about with incredible swiftnesse. O most 



Hermann sordid and abject men, and unworthy of the very name 

irchners Q f m W J IQ ^ Qe su ^ er tne se brute creatures, which are 
Uration on i i i r 1 1 c 1 

Travel. voyd both or reason and speech, to take away from them 

the nobility and excellency of nature, and doe not leave 
themselves any place, as much as amongst them. Goe 
forth therefore thou, whatsoever thou art that desirest to 
maintaine, and retaine the dignity of thy nature, go forth, I 
say, from these most miserable lurking holes, put off thy 
fetters, cast away that night from thy eyes, remove that 
mouldy rust and languishing faintnesse from thee, shake 
off thy drowsie disease, goe forth of thy grave and 
sepulchre, wherin as if thou wert a man halfe dead, thou 
dost not enjoy the most pleasant sight and taste of naturall 
things. Art thou in the world? & yet hast thou not 
scene the world ? Art thou in the earth ? and yet hast 
thou not seene the face of the earth ? Art thou in nature ? 
and yet hast thou not knowen nature ? Truely I will now 
say that thou art not onely more madde, but also more 
cruell towards thine own eyes, then that mad Democritus, 
which is said to have deprived himselfe of his eyes, and 
to have burnt up the sight thereof. For he, to the end 
he might kindle the sight of his minde, and as it were 
draw away that little skin from his inward thoughts, which 
he thought came unto him by the meanes of his outward 
eyesight, had rather suffer the dulnesse of his eyes then 
of his minde. But thou dost procure thy selfe not only 
that outward blindnes, but also an inward darkenesse, an 
incredible stupidity, and a life truly dead. What I pray 
you is more pleasant, more delectable, and more acceptable 
unto a man then to behold the heighth of hilles, as it were 
the very Atlantes themselves of heaven ? to admire 
Hercules his pillers? to see the mountaines Taurus and 
Caucasus ? to view the hill Olympus, the seat of Jupiter ? 
to passe over the Alpes that were broken by Annibals 
Vineger ? to climbe up the Apennine promontory of Italy ? 
from the hill Ida to behold the rising of the Sunne before 
the Sunne appeares ? to visite Pernassus and Helicon, the 
most celebrated seates of the Muses? Neither indeed is 



there any hill or hillocke, which doth not containe in it the Hermann 

I/" 1 * 

most sweete memory of worthy matters : there shalt thou ;r r 

1 i i -VT i * i 1 r i j i \jratton on 

see the place where Noahs Arke stood arter the deluge : Travel. 

there where God himselfe dwelt, and promulged his 
eternall law amongst the thunders and lightnings : there 
Elias to have hid himselfe under a Juniper tree, and to 
have received his food from Ravens : there the servant of 
the Lord to have fedde his father-in-laws sheepe, and to 
have seene the great Jehova in a burning bush : there 
Peter to have wished he had built himselfe three 
Tabernacles? there our Saviour to have ascended from 
the earth after his resurrection, to the right hand of his 
everlasting Father. Or is thy minde delighted with 
prophane monuments? In one place thou shalt under 
stand how the little cloude of the lingering Fabius stood 
against Hannibal, and how he by his lingering restored the 
State of Rome. In another place the town of Cannae, 
which was the eternall wound of the Romane Empire ; 
in another place the discomfiture at Trebia, and Thrasi- 
menus, and else where other ruines of memorable matters. 
For you shall not put as much as one steppe eyther in 
Greece or Italy, wherein there do not occure considerations 
of most remarkable matters. Or haddest thou rather 
convert thine eyes to the wondrous workes of nature ? 
Behold a lake of Ireland, which turneth wood into Iron 
by an admirable prodigy of nature : or see the Islands of 
Scotland, swimming after the manner of the auncient 
Cyclades, and flitting up and downe in the water as the 
sport of the tempests ; there thou wilt wonder to see 
certaine trees, from whose fruite falling into a water that 
runneth underneath, duckes and geese do grow. In 
Moravia my most sweete countrey I will shew thee 
Frankinsence and Myrrhe not to grow upon shrubbes, but 
most miraculously to issue out of the very bowels of the 
earth. Thou wilt wonder to see pots digged out of a 
certaine mountaine in Silesia, which are framed and 
fashioned by the very workmanship of nature her selfe. 
In Prussia, the pleasantest of all Regions, wherein the 


Hermann^ ve ry Gods themselves (if they were delighted with a 
Kirchner s terrestr i a u habitation) might dwell, thou shalt see amber 

(Jration on i i i i i r i i i r i o 

Travel cast an( ^ belched forth by the vomiting or the bea, as it 
were from Neptune himselfe. Wilt thou now have me 
bring thee to v^Etna, Vesuvius, *Hecla the mouths of Hel, 
and the burning gulfs of flames? for the searching out 
of the cause whereof, we reade that Plinius Secundus 
perished. But whither are we carried away? I perceive 
the like happeneth unto me that doth unto them which 
for recreation sake doe enter into a Barke, and passe by 
the coast of the shore, when at length being deceived by 
the sense of delight, they are carryed away from the Sea 
shore to the middle of the surging waves, and so launch 
forth a great way from the haven by the prosperous windes, 
even contrary to their first intent : In like manner I am 
affected with this travell of my minde, so that I have 
farther passed with this course of my speech then I first 

But that I may not abuse the favourable ale of your 
benignity, which you have very bountifully afroorded unto 
me, I will strike sayle and betake my selfe to the haven. 
For I see that I have easily obtained the thing that I aymed 
at. I see that your mindes have beene so moved, that 
they now beginne to travell within themselves : I see that 
you waxe weary of your rest, and of longer continuing 
in your owne houses : I see that your countenances and 
lookes do bend towards the gate ; I see your feete to itch, 
and that the very motion of your bodies do argue an 
inclination to travell. But to the end that none of those 
who like the Snaile doe alwayes carry their houses on 
their backes, may recall you in the middle of your way, 
and by contrary speeches divert you from the desire of 
travell ; I think that I shal undertake a worke worthy my 
labor, if I shal fortifie your mindes and eares against the 
cries of other men. For some say that travels are both 
pernicious to a Common-weale, and hurtfull to a 
private life : that by travell new manners, new vices, 
* A burning mountaine of Island north from Scotland. 



new staines, new diseases are drawen into a Common- Hermann 

r , i. \ i Oration on 

Let none or you (my worthy Auditors) be so ignorant Travel. 

of matters, that he may not perswade himselfe that these 
things are rather to be imputed to every mans perverse 
nature and education, then to travel. Surely every where 
men live with bad manners, and vices are every where 
learned : at home examples of lust and other enormities 
doe abound no lesse then abroad ; and at home there are 
Davi, Phormiones, and Gnathones which doe greatly 
corrupt youth. To what end dost thou object unto me 
Paris and Lais ? At home also there are Thaides, at home 
Sirenes, at home Medeas. Iniquity in all places is fertill 
and fruitfull. Nay rather if any domesticall vices are so 
rooted in any by reason of their perverse manners and 
disciplines, that they are altogether turned into nutriment 
and blood, I thinke that none other remedy can be 
used then travell, which is wont to wash away our 
blemishes, and by little and little to weare out what 
soever is disjoynted, and rough in our naturall 

Howbeit I confesse there are corruptions also amongst 
strangers ; there are pleasing angling hookes of pleasure, 
and inticing allurements : for some are branded with the 
marke of levity, some of luxury, some of disloyalty. But 
what good corne I pray you is there ever found, wherewith 
some cockle is not mingled ? Therefore it is so far that for 
that cause you should thinke men ought not to travell, 
that it shold rather further our course. For there is no 
surer mean in us to confirm & strengthen our vertue, then 
if we shall make triall of our nature by conversing in the 
midst of the conflicts of vices, and as it were in the hote 
skirmishes and brunt of the battell. Then I will say 
thou art valiant, temperate, and continent, not if thou dost 
never converse amongst intemperate and voluptuous men, 
and dost sparingly live at thine owne house with thy 
slender pittance, lurking like a noone-daies Grashopper ; 
but if amongst the woers of Penelope themselves, amongst 
c. c. 145 K 


Hermann^ the huge holies of the Lapithae, and the swine of Circe, 
KircAner s among . st t h e middle of the Sirenes thou preserve thy 

(Jration on 1 1 TTI i i > j 

Travel contmencie, and with Ulysses returne home mviolated 
from Calypso and Circe. For by so much the more 
renowned and glorious was Ulysses travell, by how much 
the more it was accompanied with danger. Let us there 
fore thinke that we are to travell in that maner, that as 
we see the river Rosne run through the lake Losanna, or 
the fountaine Arethusa through the Sea, and yet is not 
sprinckled with any outward saltnes, nor the purity of 
the water thereof changed : so let us passe through 
nations of divers manners, that we may returne home 
untouched with any contagion of perverse maners. But 
what answer shall we make to those that complaine that 
money is spent by travell? Pray what are they that 
object this? Surely such as thinke nothing blessed, 
nothing glorious, nothing fortunate, nothing to be desired 
but onely riches. Verily they are most unworthy to whom 
nature should give any other sense, who had rather want 
those true and eternal riches, vertue, wisdome, and the 
knowledge of most worthy and profitable matters which 
are purchased by travel, then money. They are worthy 
to remaine for ever lame and blinde with their Mammon, 
and most unworthy to enjoy the benefites of nature, or 
and other pleasures which are procured by travell. As 
though the dice and dicing boxe, domesticall idlenesse, 
domesticall luxury, and the gulfe of domesticall gorman 
dising, doth not farre exceed the necessary charges of 
travell. Surely the same gulfe of prodigality is at home 
that is abroad, the same occasion of wasting our fortunes 
and patrimony, the same good fellowship, the same diet, 
the same dishes. But let us heare some timorous fellowes : 
they feare lest their friends should fall into agues, they 
feare their sickenesse, they feare their death ; Why, 
do men perish rather abroad then at home? What, 
is there no contagion at home? No consumption? 
Are there not for the most part greater pestilences 
and contagious diseases at home? Why doe we so often 



flie from home, and seeke for a secure life abroad as it Hermann 

If * L * 

were in a Sanctuary ? How many diseases doth domesticall 

, j J > . J , Oration on 

rest breed a manr At home the gout, at home the Travel. 
infirmity of the handes, at home diseases of the feet, at 
home consumptions do reigne, and do accompany our 
domesticall chaire, our domesticall pillowes, and our softer 
beddes, which are oftentimes cured with meere motion and 

But doe you thinke that there is a greater safegard of 
our life at home then abroad? since the very Angels 
themselves even with great Armies doe travell with us, and 
that supreme ruler of our destinies doth govern our paths ; 
so that the childe Jesus flieth with us into Egypt : out of 
Egypt the fiery pillar returneth with us : in the ship 
Christ sitteth with us ; freeth his Jonas and his Paul 
miraculously from the tempests, reconcileth our enemies 
and Esaus unto us : preserveth our life from theeves, 
bringeth us into our Inne when we are wounded, taketh 
care of us and payeth a penny for us to our Host. But I 
feare (sayest thou) amorous potions and poysons abroad : 
Why dost thou lesse feare them at home? At home 
there is a step-mother, at home witches and sorcerers, at 
home hatred and enmity. How many by their travels 
have procured themselves a free evasion from domesticall 
calamities and miseries, and from deadly dangers, and 
have sought comfort abroad? The Patriarch Jacob 
committed himselfe to travell that he might avoyd 
domesticall treachery. But what meane I to detain you 
longer then you would ? I see nothing doth any longer 
hinder you, the gates are open, and all the way is open 
for you. Let us follow the most wise counsell of 
Apollonius, who affirmeth that it beseemeth yong men to 
travell no otherwise then if they were banished out of 
their country. Let us therefore abroad seeke for the 
knowledge of learning and all arts, abroad science, abroad 
wisedome, abroad the garnishing of our manners and 
languages, abroad counsell and action, and experience of 
all things : from abroad let us bring joy and comfort to 



Hermann our parents, worship and ornament to our family, delight 

Klnhners to our friends and kinsfolkes, commodity and profite to 

Oration on our Common-weale, glory and immortall honour to 

ourselves : and consequently let us prepare our life, which 

is nothing else then a dayly travell, to that last and 

heavenly pilgrimage, by the custome of these travels here 

on earth. 





This Epistle ensuing was written by my deare friend M. 
Laurence Whitaker, to a learned neighbour of mine in 
the towne of Evill, one M. John Seward, a reverend 
Preacher, as his censure or Elogie of my Booke, to the 
end the said M. Seward might include it in a Letter 
that he wrote to one Doctor Mocket, Chaplaine to the 
Bishop of London that then was, for obtaining his 
approbation that my Booke might be printed. There 
fore seeing it is a wittie and elegant Epistle, I have 
thought good to insert it in this place, and to prefixe it 
immediately before my booke, though the Author 
thereof be disposed in some places to be merry with me. 


Have, with some difficulty at length Laurence 
traced over the high Alpes of this loftye Whitaker to 
worke of that worthie Orator, Traveller, 
and Historiographer, Mr. Thomas 
Coryate : In which long journey though 
I have met with many a rough and rocky 
passage, yet I have beene so eased with 
the delight of many smooth and levell allies of his owne 
pleasant invention, that they have bene to me insteade of 
an Alpine chaire to carry me at ease over the difficult and 
invious precipices. Shall I commend the worke unto you ? 
Shall I use any reasons to presse, and to prove the fitnes 
of it for the Presse? No, in stead of good juyce to give 
it a sweete relish, I should presse out tarte ver- juyce to 
give it a distast, and a suspicion of defect, as if it had 


John Seward 


Laurence crackes and flawes in it, that needed to be playstered up 

Whitaker to W j t j 1 ^ mortar o f commendation. All I will say of it, 

John Reward. .,,,.. T . ., J . , 

shall DC this : It is a garment or many colours so curiously 
and gracefully intermixed ; it is a garden of fayre flowers, 
so pleasantly planted and ordered ; it is a ship of rare 
out-landish commodities, that hath lading, yea and ballasse 
of such worth and price, that no disgrace can it be to it, 
though in this garment were found some rent, in this 
garden some weeds, in this ship some trash. I will say 
of the Author no worse then Horace saith of Homer, 

Sic veris falsa remiscet, 

Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum. 

What said I ? Veris falsa ? Nay more, sacra profanis, 
lasciva modestis, ludicra seriis : Nay, I will say with Ovid, 
that there be in it 

Mollia cum duris, sine pondere habentia pondus. 

No Apothecary could have observed a more judicious 
symmetry in the mixture of his potions and electuaries ; 
no cooke in the decent composition of his sallets or stewed 
brothes. Nay both symmetrie and mixture is here such, 
that though I said I would not commend the worke ; yet 
I cannot hold, but for the one and the other, I must say 
as Horace saith, he is 

Primus ad extremum similis sibi 
And againe, 

Omne tulit punctum, &c. 

Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo. 

How strongly hath he fortified his booke with many a 
fortresse and Citadel? How loftily hath he adorned it 
with many a high tower and steeple? Nay, how richly 
and pompously hath hee set out all the Countries he hath 
passed through (being, as his title speaketh, in number 
seven, equall with the wonders of the world, the wise men 
of Greece, and the mouthes of the monster breeding Nile) 
having allowed to everyone of them a hundred & odde 

John Reward. 


Pages to attend them ; nay for every mile almost seven Laurence 

lines to describe it, as by his exact Arithmeticke he can Whitaker to 

make it appeare to you? To conclude, if the Pearle of 

the Netherlands, Lipsius, were living, I know he would 

not thinke me too bold, if I gave of these Monita & 

exempla Hodoeporetica, the same censure, that the Regius 

& Apostolicus Censor doth of his Monita & exempla 

Politica ; Quis ea praslo digna non censeat, cum erudita 

sint, cum pulchra varietate lectorem mirifice oblectent, 

cum ad illustrationem antiquitatum multum conferant, & 

nihil contineant, quod Catholicae fidei adversetur ? 

And so commending the Author to your 

accustomed favour, and his worke 

to your best furtherance, 

I rest 

Your verie loving friend 


[Coryats Crudities 


A Seasick 

My Observations of France. 

Was imbarked at Dover, about tenne 
of the clocke in the morning, the 
fourteenth of may, being Saturday and 
Whitsun-eve, Anno 1608, and arrived 
in Calais (which Caesar calleth Ictius 
portus, a maritime towne of that part of 
Picardy, which is commonly called le pais 

[p. 2.] 

de la Genet 
a Worthy 

* - * i. 

reconquis ; that is, the recovered Province, inhabited in 
former times by the ancient *Morini.) about five of the 
clocke in the afternoone, after I had varnished the exterior 
parts of the ship with the excrementall ebullitions of my 
tumultuous stomach, as desiring to satiate the gorman 
dizing paunches of the hungry Haddocks (according as I 
have hieroglyphically expressed it in the front of my 
booke) with that wherewith I had superfluously stuffed 
my selfe at land, having made my rumbling belly their 
rapacious aumbrie. 

Presently after my arrival, I was brought with the 
rest of my company to the Deputy Governor of the 
towne, whose name was Monsieur de la Genet : the 
principall Governors name (whom we saw not) was 
Monsieur de Vic, who hath one wooden leg. The 
Deputy was a very worthy and gallant Gentleman, and 
shewed himselfe very affable unto us. For he asked us 
many questions, as about our King, and the newes of 
Ireland, &c. and very courteously intreated us ; and after 
this familiar parle dismissed us to our lodging. For it is 

* Of whom Virgil speaketh thus, Extremique hominum Morini. 
JEnei. 8. 



the custome of the towne, that whensoever any strangers 
arrive there, they are brought before the Deputy Governor, 
to the end to be examined about the occasion of their 
comming thither, whither they travel!, and to have their 
names inrolled before they goe to their lodging. I lay 
in Calais Whitsun-eve and all Whitsun-day ; where I 
observed these particulars : A little on this side the towne, 
when I was on the Sea, I saw a thing which I much 
admired ; the sands of Calais, which appeared so plain a The Sands of 
great way off, that I thought they had not beene covered Calais. 
with any water at all, but drie firme ground for men to 
walk on for recreation. The other sands on that part of 
the water that our ship sayled on, being not to be seene. 
These are such as we cal in Latine Syrtes, that is, quicke 
sands. Sometimes at a low ebbe they are all uncovered 
with water, insomuch that the people of the towne doe 
then walke upon them as upon firme land. But a certain 
English man within these few years, was deceived by those 
sands : for when he walked alone there, he was suddenly 
overtaken and overwhelmed with the waters : for a monu 
ment whereof, there are erected two wooden pillars in the 
water a little from the haven. 

There are two Churches in this towne, to the greatest 
whereof I went on Whitsun-day, where I saw their Masse 
(but not with that superstitious geniculation, and elevation 
of hands at the lifting up of their consecrated Wafer-cake, [p. 3.] 
that the rest used) and many ceremonies that I never saw 
before. This amongst the rest : about the middle of Strange 
their Masse there was an extreme crackling noise from ^ etem 
a certain hollow place in the vault of the middle of the 
Church. This is the same place, as I take it, where they 
let up and downe their Bels. After the noyse there was 
powred downe a great deale of water, immediately after 
the water ensued a great multitude of Wafer-cakes, both 
white, redde and yellow : which ceremony was done to 
put them in minde of the cloven tongues, that appeared 
that day of Pentecost to the * Apostles in Hierusalem. 

*Acts 2. 



Here I observed a great prophanation of the Lords 
supper, committed by their irreligious apioXarpeia which 
in steed of Christ doth worship the God Maozim.f 
Also I saw their mutilated Sacrament, whereof I much 
Sacrament in heard before. For I saw the Priest minister the Sacrament 
to the lay people under one kind only, namely that of 
bread, defrauding them of the Wine, contrary to the holy 
institution of Christ and his Apostles, and the auncient 
practise of the Primitive Church, which was ever continued 
from age to age till the time of * Alexander the third of 
that name Pope, who about the time of the Emperour 
Fridericus Barbarossa, Anno 1 1 70, began to deprive the 
Laity of the other part of the Sacrament. 

The high Priest being in very rich copes, went abroad 
in Procession round about the Church-yard, after one of 
their Masses was done (for that day many Masses were 
said in the Church) having a rich silver Crosse carried 
before him, and accompanied with many that carried silke 
banners and flags after a very Ethnicall and prophane 

A Fair At the north side of the Quire I saw a faire monument of 

Monument. an English Lady, and this Epitaph cut in the stone upon it. 

COrpus quiescit marmore, & excitandum tempore, 
Vultum dei mens aspicit, formamque splendidissimam 
Mater sepulta pulvere, lotus puer baptismate, 
Utrumque gleba contegit, uterque surget protinus. 
Partus dolore concidit, matris sinu somnum capit, 
Utrumque coelum possidet, cum Rex poli devenerit. 
Mariae Wentworth mortuae Eques Wentworth parens est 
Dominus Praeses Calesiae. Anno Christi millesimo, 
Adjunge quingentesimum quartumque ac quinquagesi- 

Habesque vitas terminum. Dies quo tanta foemina 


Is est ordine alter Septembris flebilis 
Deflendus orbe lugubri. 

f Dan. 1 1, 38. * Chroni. Charionis, lib. 4. in vita Henrici Aucipis. 



These were the words that were ingraven upon her 
Tombe, but so intricate and harsh, that every Latinist 
cannot understand them. At the west end of the Church 
there is a beautiful and faire table exceeding large, wherin 
is painted Christ sitting on the Rain-bow, with the soules 
of the Saints, and the godly on the right hand of him, 
and the devil on the left hand, with a gaping mouth, 
devouring the soules of the wicked. 

They have a very strict order in this towne, that if Strict order 
any stranger of what Nation soever he be, shal be taken kept in Calais. 
walking by himself, either towards their Fortresse, which 
they call the Rice-banke, or about the greene of the 
towne, he shall be apprehended by some Souldiers, and 
carried to the Deputy Governor, and committed to safe 
custody til he hath paid some fee for his ransome. 

They have two very strong Forts belonging to this ^ Stron S 
towne, whereof one is the Fortresse before named, called 
the Rice banke, which is situate in the middest of the 
quicke sands hard by the Sea ; insomuch that the Sea at 
every flowing in of the tide, beateth violently on the wals 
with the waves thereof. It is a pretty way distant from 
the town, and had the denomination of Rice banke upon 
this occasion : About the year 1 540, Calais being in the 
hands of the English, it happened that an English Sea- 
captaine being at Sea, tooke a Barke of Dunkerke laden 
with Rice : which when he had brought into Calais haven, [p. 5.] 
he acquainted the Governor of the towne with it ; who to 
reward him for his prize, took but halfe this Barkes lading 
to himselfe, and bestowed the other halfe upon the Sea- 
captaine, and granted him this favour besides, that for the 
better utterance of it, he should receive the ordinary pay 
of the ordinary Souldiers, which garded a little Fort Soldiers Fed 
standing in the Sea before Calais haven, and in stead of Wlth 
that money which was allowed them for their victuals, he 
should feed them with Rice, so long as his Barkes lading 
lasted : whereupon the said little Fort hath ever since 
been called the Rice-banke, of the abundance of Rice, 
buttered and boiled in Pottage, which at that time was 



The Citadel eaten in it. The other Fort is a Citadell, built on a firme 
land on the west side of the towne, which seemeth to be 
a very great building : but because it is inaccessible to 
strangers, I adventured not to approach near unto it to 
survay the particulars, for feare of danger. This Citadell 
is always fortified with a strong garison of Souldiers. The 
Market-place is very spacious and faire, being so large 
both for bredth and length, that I never saw the like in 
all England : on one side whereof there is a goodly fair 
Towne house built of stone worke of a great heigth. 

Their land-gate which is built in the south part of the 
towne, leading to Boulogne is faire and new, being built 
all with bricke. 

Before I make an end of my observations of Calais, I 
The Surpris- will relate one memorable history concerning the surprising 
ing of Calais of the towne by the Spaniards, and the recovery of it 
by the again by the Frenchmen, which is this. Anno 1596. the 

Archduke Albert having cast off his Cardinals hat, and 
being invested Governor of the low Countries for the 
King of Spaine, came from Brussels with an army of 
fifteen thousand footemen, and foure thousand horsemen, 
and caused a report to be scattered abroade that he would 
[p. 6.] succour la Fere a town of Picardie belonging to the King 
of France, then held by the Spaniard, and besieged by 
the French ; and having in the moneth of Aprill found 
meanes to put in some little succour into la Fere, secretly 
and cunningly turned head towardes Calais : Monsieur de 
Rosne Governour of Graveling, a towne of the Archdukes 
hard by Calais, understanding that Monsieur de Visdossein 
then Governor of Calais, carried himselfe but carelesly and 
remissely in his government, and having gotten some 
secret intelligence with some of the inhabitants, promised 
the Archduke to make him Master of Calais before the 
French King should be able to succour it So Rosne 
before any body knew his intent got into the country of 
Calesis, took the Pont de Nieullet a fort first built by 
the English men, and the Rice-banke, and so stopped the 
entrance of all succour that could come by Sea. The 



Archduke having notice of this, came with his armie, and Calais 
beleaguerd Calais of all sides, tooke the suburbes, and 
upon the seaventeenth day of Aprill planted his Cannon 
against the towne, and played upon it. The inhabitants 
being thus violently assaulted desire a parley, and some 
eight or nine days truce, till they might receive the succour 
they expected from the King. The Archduke accorded 
them sixe dayes truce, upon condition that they would 
yeeld him presently the town, and the artillery in it, and 
either themselves stay in the towne with their goods, or 
retire unto the citadell : so they yielded him the towne 
and their houses well furnished, and retired themselves 
pellmell unto the citadell. The French King came to 
Boulogne with some forces, and sent some two hundred 
men to succour the citadell, but to little purpose. For 
the Governour and all the souldiers were so terrified with 
the Archdukes Cannon, that they were forced to yeeld the 
citadell to him. The four and twentith of Aprill, the 
Governour Visdossein and eight hundred Gentlemen, Soul- p renc hmen 
diers, and townesmen were slaine in the assault, and so the Slain. 
French had a great losse, and the Spaniards a large spoile. [p- 7-1 
And thus the Archduke tooke it and held it til the peace 
at Vervins concluded the twelfth of June Anno 1598. at 
which treaty Calais and other places then in the hands of 
the Spaniards, were yeelded up to the French, and hath 
so ever since continued, 1607. Thus much of Calais. 

I Departed from Calais about eleaven of the clocke in 
the morning on Whitson-munday, and came to 
Boulogne in Picardie, which was sixteene miles distant 
from it, about seaven of the clocke in the afternoone. 
Betwixt Calais and Boulogne I saw two Churches 
grievously demolished, which was done in the time of 
the civill warres, and two Monasteries extremely ruinated, 
whereof one was situate in a solitary place on the left 
hand by the side of a wood. 

Boulogne is divided into two parts, the higher and the Boulogne. 
lower : in the higher Boulogne there is a very strong and 


The Great great Castle invironed with exceeding deepe trenches and 

J"/ * a strong wall, within the which there are many townesmens 
Boulogne. to - . . . . . -.. . 

nouses, ror this higher part is so full or private houses, 
that though you would take this for a meere Castle being 
farre from it, yet when you come into it you will finde it 
a populous towne, and well inhabited. Amongst the 
rest of their buildings, I observed a Monastery of Canon 
Monkes, which is right opposite to the gate as you enter 
the towne ; whereof I saw two walking together in long 
blacke vailes over their gownes that reached to their shoes. 
These were the first Monkes that ever I saw : in the 
lower towne which is about a hundred paces distant from 
the higher, are three faire streets : in one whereof there 
is a Colledge of Franciscan Friers, called the Cordeliers. 
This lower Boulogne also is fortified with a strong wall, 
[p. 8.] which was made by our English men, after they had 
conquered the same, but whether in the time of Edward 
the third or Henry the eight I know not. 

The old man About a mile from the towne there is a very high and 
of Boulogne, strong watch tower built upon the toppe of an eminent 
hill, which our English men do commonly call the old 
man of Boulogne. This tower in a clear day is easily 
to be scene from Dover Castle : it is said that Julius 
Caesar was the first founder of this tower, which he erected 
to the end to fortifie that place for his souldiers against 
the Gaules, and the bordering Britaines whom at that time 
he oppugned. 

I went from Boulogne about sixe of the clocke the 
next morning, being Tuesday the seaventeenth day of 
May, and came to Montrel a town of Picardie, which was 
sixteene miles beyond it, about foure of the clocke in 
the afternoone. Betwixt Boulogne and Montrel I 
observed these things ; a little beyond Boulogne there 
Gallows of is a Gallowes, consisting of two goodly faire pillers of 
Freestone. free-stone, where there is no cross beame as upon our 
English gallowes, but that crosse beame is erected when 
any are hanged, and taken down againe immediately after 
the execution. No offendours are hanged there, but only 



fellons. A little beyond that there is a place of execution The 


made of timber, at the toppe whereof there is a wheele, Tormentoi 

whereon the bodies of murderers only are tormented and 
broken in peeces with certaine yron instruments, wherewith 
they breake their armes first, then their legs and thighes, 
and after their breast : If they are favoured their breast is 
first broken. That blow on their breast is called the blow 
of mercy, because it doth quickly bereave them of their 
life. This torment of the wheele I find in Aristotle to 
have been used amongst the ancient Grecians also. Who 
in the seventh booke of his Ethicks and third Chapter, 
useth the word rpo^i^eus which signifieth to be tor 
tured with the wheele. Againe, a little beyond that [P- 9-] 
place there is a little chappell made conduitwise, wherein 
is erected the picture of Christ and the Virgin Mary ; 
there I saw three women and a man praying to that 
picture. This was the first of those kinde of chappels 
that ever I saw, but afterward in Savoy, Piemont, and 
some places of Lombardy, I saw very great store of 

About eight miles beyond Boulogne I saw a very 
ruinous Monastery, which belike was battered down in 
the civil warres. About two miles on this side Montrel A 
there was a Whitsuntide foole disguised like a foole, Whitsuntide 
wearing a long coate, wherein there were many severall 
peeces of cloth of divers colours, at the corners whereof 
there hanged the tailes of Squirrels : he bestowed a little 
peece of plate, wherein was expressed the effigies of the 
Virgin Mary, upon every one that gave him money ; for 
he begged money of all travellers for the benefite of the 
Parish Church. 

Montrell is a strong walled towne, situate on a hill, Montreuil. 
having a very strong fortification on the toppe thereof, 
invironed with a strong wall. There are two gates at the 
entrance of the towne, at each whereof there is a guarde 
of souldiers that examined us before we came into the 
towne. The principall Church of the towne is our Ladies 
Church. Our Hostesse of Montrel prayed the Virgin 


A Country 

[p. 10.] 

The Forest 

A stately 



Mary to blesse me, because shee thought I was a Papist, 
but when shee understood I was a Protestant, shee seemed 
to pitty me. 

I departed from Montrel in a cart, according to the 
fashion of the country, which had three hoopes over it, 
that were covered with a sheet of course canvasse, about 
sixe of the clocke the next day in the morning, being 
Wednesday, and the eighteenth day of May ; and came to 
Abbevile about eleaven of the clocke that morning, betwixt 
Montrel and Abbevile twenty miles. About ten miles 
on this side Abbevile we entered into a goodly Forrest 
called Veronne, which is reported to be forty miles in 
compasse : at the entrance whereof a French man that 
was in our company, spake to us to take our swords in 
our hands, because sometimes there are false knaves in 
many places of the Forrest that lurke under trees and 
shrubbes, and suddenly set upon travellers, and cut their 
throtes, except the true men are too strong for them. 
Also there are wild Bores and wild Harts in that Forrest ; 
but we saw none of them. About five miles on this side 
Abbevile there is a goodly Parke, invironed with a faire 
brick wall, wherein there is Deere : a little on this side 
Abbevile there is a stately gallowes of foure very high 
pillars of free stone, which is joyned together with two 
crosse beames of stone, whereon the offenders are hanged. 

Abbevile is a goodly faire Citie of Picardy, wherein 
are many beautifull buildings both publique and private. 
And many Monasteries of men and women : it is very 
well peopled : the wals are moated about in some places, 
especially about the new wall at the East end of the 
towne : that wall is very stately, being of an exceeding 
heigth, and goodly armes of the King, &c. made therein. 

I went from Abbevile about one of the clocke the same 
day, and came about eight of the clocke in the evening 
to a countrey village in Picardy called Picquigny, fourteene 
miles there hence distant. Most of the country betwixt 
these places is exceeding fertill, having as faire meadows, 
and fruitfull corne fields as I saw in all France. After 



I had travelled about sixe of those fourteen miles, I over- CaroUu 

TTf* * 



tooke a certaine Frier, attired in white habites, whose 

name was Carolus Wimier : I walked with him as farre 
as Picquigny : he was Ordinis Praemonstratensis, a young 
man of the age of two and twenty years, and a prety 
Latinist : he went to Amiens to be fully confirmed in his 
Orders by the Bishop of Amiens. I found him a very [p. 11.] 
good fellow and sociable in his discourses ; for he and I 
were so familiar, that we entered into many speeches of 
divers matters, especially of Religion, wherein the chiefest 
matter that we handled was about the adoration of Images. 

I came to the goodly Citie of Amiens, which is the 
Metropolitan and capitall Citie of Picardy, about sixe of 
the clocke a Thursday morning, being sixe miles distant 
from Picquigny. I remained there all that day, and the 
next day about two of the clocke in the afternoone I tooke 
my journey there hence by Coach towards Paris. 

About some two furlongs before I came to Amiens, 
I saw two very ancient and stately Abbayes demolished, 
one on the right hand, and the other on the left. 


My Observations of Amiens. 

Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written these verses upon 

Amiens. Ve 5 u P on 

> T -, . r ..,.,. . Amiens. 

Erron ruerat peregrmis Gallia turmis, 

Terrori Gallis Belgia sola fuit. 
Germanus Belgas cum vincit, Belgica Belga 
Cum tueor, Belgii Belgia sola fui. 

This Citie is called in Latin Ambianum, which name 
some say, was imposed upon it by the Emperour Gratian, 
because it is compassed about with the river Somna ; before 
it was called Samorobrina, and it is said to have been 
built by the Emperour Antoninus Pius, and his, adopted 
sonne Marcus Aurelius. It is (as I said before) the 
Metropolitan of Picardy ; well walled and situate in a 
very fertill plaine : it is much greater then Abbevile, and 
very populous : I lay at the signe of the Ave Maria, 
c. c. 1 6 1 L 


The Cathedral 


[p. 12.] where I read these two verses written in golden letters 
upon the Linterne of the doore, at the entering into the 
Inne. This in Greeke, T% c^Ao^ewa? M eTriXavQavecrOe, 
that is, Forget not your good entertainment : and this in 
Latine, Hospitibus hie tuta fides. 

The Cathedral Church of this Citie is dedicated to our 
Lady, being the very Queene of al the Churches in France, 
and the fairest that ever I saw till then. This Church 
was built by a certaine Bishop of this Citie, about foure 
hundred years since, whose monument is made in brasse 
at the west end of the Church, with certaine Latin 
inscriptions about it ; but such is the strangnesse of the 
character, that I could not understand it. 

There are in the body of this Church two very 
sumptuous rows of faire pillars of free-stone, eight in 
a row, on each whereof there are hanged divers most 
beautiful tables of pictures very exquisitely drawen and 
richly gilt, which is indeede the principal thing that doth 
so beautifie and adorne this Church, and make it famous 
above all the French Churches. Some of these pictures 
are of the king of France and his Queene Mary de 
Medices, and Monsieur Biron, and many of the other 
French Nobility ; many of Christ and the Virgin Mary, 
others of religious men and Saints, and some of certaine 
benefactors of that Church. Truely such is the beauty 
and resplendent grace of these pictures, that it will even 
amaze a stranger that never saw the like ; on some pillars 
two pictures being hanged, whereof many are of that 
largenesse, that they answer the full proportionable length 
of a tall mans body. 

Towards the upper end of the body of the Church on 
the left hand as you enter from the west gate, there is a 
marveilous rich Pulpit, the richest that ever I saw till 
then, being curiously adorned with many stately pictures 
and gilt Images. I take it to be double gilt, and that 
over head is answerable to the rest in sumptuousnes. 
There is a convenient and pretty roome on the right hand 
of the walke, which doth inviron the Quire, wherein is 


A marvellous 
rich Pulpit. 



very neatly kept a certaine Tabernacle, made in the forme 
of a Turret, which is garnished with many pictures, and 
sumptuously gilt : this dooth the fraternity of the shoe 
makers carry in solemne procession every St. Stephens day. 

In the next roome unto that in the same side of the A Globe of the 
walke is very cunningly made in brasse, a Globe or Spheare World. 
of the world, both heaven and earth, very costly gilt, 
wherein are represented the fixed starres and planets, and 
the twelve celestiall signes. 

The outside of the west end of the Church, over the 
dore is most beautifully decked with exceeding abundance 
of Images, wherein many of the principall Histories of 
the Scripture, both of the olde and new Testament, are 
very lively set forth. Also at the west end of the Church 
without the dore the statue of St. Christopher is most 
excellently pourtrayed in stone. 

The principallest relique that is kept in this Church is St. John 
the forepart of St. John Baptists head, which is inclosed ^ a P tliti 
in a peece of gold that is beset with many precious stones. 
Againe, the same peece of gold is put into another rich 
Cabinet, made of crystall ; out of the which it is taken, 
whensoever it is shewed to any strangers or any other : it 
is never shewed but at sixe of the clocke in the morning, 
in a certaine little high Chappell, consecrated to that 
purpose. There are about three or foure paire of stairs, 
that leade to the same. From the time that the dore of 
this Chappell is opened, which is about sixe of the clocke 
in the morning there beginneth a Masse there, and 
continueth till seven, and then it is shut : so that they 
which come after it is shut, cannot see it till the next day. 
It is the custome both of strangers and all others that 
see it (if they are of any ability) to lay downe some money, 
as an offering in a little dish hard by the head, which is 
afterward distributed to the poore. Innumerable was the 
company of Cockle and Muskle shels and beads, and other [p- 14-] 
religious reliques, which I saw hanged up over the dore 
of this little Chappell. I was at the Nunnery of the Carmelite 
Carmelite Nunnes, right opposite to the entry whereof um 




A new 

there was a very goodly Altar ; at whose sides there were 
very curious and rich hangings of white lawne, as I 
conceived it, or some other very fine linnen most 
exquisitely wrought with needle-worke, and that by the 
Nunnes themselves, as it was reported. I saw only two 
Nunnes that kept the dore, but I could not be suffered 
to see the rest within the Nunnery, because forsooth they 
never see any man, for fear of inticements to vanity. 
Also I saw another Nunnery of Franciscan Nunnes, where 
there was another fair Altar ; I came into their Church at 
the time of prayers in the afternoone, the Nunnes being 
then at their Vespers, in a higher loft or chappell, unto 
the which I could not have accesse. But I saw them at 
service sitting in two rowes opposite to each other. They 
wore white vailes about their heades, and black over the 
same which covered their whole body to their feete : one 
of these was a very beautifull woman. 

There is now building in Amiens a very faire Nunnery 
for the same Carmelite Nunnes, which doe now live in 
another Nunnery that is more obscure, and lesse delightfull 
for their contemplation. They remove shortly from that 
wherein they now live to that which is now building, 
because it is a more private and solitary place for their 
meditation, and the service of God. Unto this new 
Nunnery there belongeth a faire garden full of fine 
spacious walkes, beset with sundry pleasant trees. I was 
at the Monastery of the Capucins, in whose Church there 
were two faire altars, with many pictures of Christ and 
Saint Francis. They have a faire garden belonging to 
their Monastery, neare to which they have a Cloister, 
wherein are hanged many religious pictures, emblemes, 
and posies tending to mortification. 
A rich altar. At Saint Germans Church there is a wondrous rich 
altar, very abundantly decked with precious ornaments, 
especially a gilt Tabernacle. This is the fairest Altar 
by many degrees that I saw in all the City. 

The towne house which is very neare to the gate as 
you come into the city from Pickeney is very faire, being 




three stories high, and built with bricke, having goodly 
armes in it. 

The fairest cage of birds that I saw in al France, was Cage of 
at the signe of the Ave Maria in Amiens, the workmanship Blrdi - 
whereof was very curious with gilt wyers. In the same 
were four Turtle Doves, and many gold Finches, with 
other birds which are such as our hempseede birds in 

The first Pilgrime that ever I saw was in Amiens, a 
very simple fellow, who spake so bad Latin that a country 
Scholler in England should be whipped for speaking the A Pilgrim. 
like. He told me that he had lived two yeares at 
Compostella, a city and University of Galicia in Spaine, 
where Saint James is much worshipped, wherehence he 
then came, and was upon going to Rome. He had a long 
staffe in his hand with a nobbe in the middle, according 
to the fashion of those Pilgrims staffes, a chaine about 
his necke full of extraordinary great beades, and a box 
by his side, wherein was the picture of our Lady and 
Christ in her armes. 

Now I will relate as memorable a history of the 
Spaniards surprising of this city, and the recovery of it 
again by the Frenchmen, as I have done before in my 
observations of Calais. 

Anno 1597, Henry the fourth King of France having 
newly ended his Parliament assembled that yeare at 
Rouen, and consulting of putting in execution the lawes The surprize 
there made, and of raising a mighty army to chace the f Amiens by 
Spaniards out of Picardie ; heard newes of the surprize 
of Amiens, which happened thus. Hernand Teillo 
Governour of Dourlans a towne in the Frontiers of [p- 16.] 
Picardie, now belonging to the French King, but then 
held by the Spaniard, having intelligence by some 
French men that were then fugitives in Flanders, that 
the French King had brought into Amiens forty peeces 
of artillery, and a great quantity of pouder, intending 
there to make a magazine of munition for the next 
Sommers wars, understanding also that the citizens of 



Amiens were stout and mutinous, and had refused a 
garrison of Switzers, which the French King would have 
sent them ; informed the Archduke of this, and used 
meanes to hold further intelligence with some of the most 
mutinous within the towne : in confidence whereof he 
framed this plot. Upon the tenth of March he caused 
Soldiers forty or fifty souldiers to be attired like peasants with 
attired like fardels upon their heads and shoulders, and pistols and 
Peasants, daggers under their coates : and marches himselfe up to 
the towne with some five thousand footemen, and seaven 
hundred horsemen, and lodges them overnight in ambus- 
cado neare to the town. The next morning early he sends 
these disguised souldiers to the gate of the towne, called 
la porte de Montrescut, who following a cart that was 
going in at the gate, one after an other, as soon as ever 
the cart was gotten under the portcullice, one of the 
peasants untied closely a sacke of walnuttes, which he 
A merry carried, and let them all fall out ; and while the corps de 
device. garde, which kept the gate were scrambling to gather them 
up, another of these disguised souldiers, cuts the hairness 
of the horse, and so with cart and horse barricadoed, and 
stopped the passage of the gate : and then the rest drew 
forth their weapons, seised upon the rest that guarded the 
gate, and made themselves masters of it. Then presently 
they gave the Signall to Hernand Teillo, that lay under 
the towne with his ambuscado : so he with al his men 
[p. 17.] came by troupes unto the towne, got up to the market 
place, seised themselves of all the fortresses and Churches, 
of the Arsenal, and all the munition at noone day, whiles 
the people were at the sermon, and so made themselves 
masters of the towne, without any manner of resistance. 
The French King presently resolved to beleaguer it againe, 
caused great forces to be levied out of France, yea and out 
of the most parts of Europe, and particularly foure 
thousand out of England, who did speciall service in the 
siege. He made the Marshall of Biron, Lieutenant 
generall of his army : and though the Archduke came 
with a great power to succour the besieged, yet the 



French Kings men continued the siege so resolutely, the 
Kings owne presence and the arrival of all the best 
commanders of France so encouraged and strengthned 
them that they defeated divers of the Archdukes forces ; 
Hernand Teillo was slaine in defence of a fort the third Hernnnd 
of September, which much comforted them also. At Teillo slain. 
last the King and his army charged the Archduke and 
his forces so close, that he forced them to retire : and so 
being retired seaven leagues from the towne, upon the 
nineteenth of September, the towne yeelded upon com 
position after the siege of sixe moneths and somewhat 
more ; and the five and twentieth of September, all the The Spanian 
Spanish forces marched out of the towne, with bagge march out. 
and baggage, colours displaied and drum beaten, which 
were in all about two thousand footemen, and five hundred 
horsemen, a hundred and threescore carts laden with 
baggage, and some thousand women of the towne. After 
they were gone forth, the King entred the towne with a 
thousand Gentlemen on horseback, and sung a Te Deum 
in the Cathedrall Church, and so hath ever since held the 
towne. Thus much of Amiens. 

ITooke my journey from Amiens towards Paris in [p. 18.] 
Coach, the twentieth day of May being friday, about 
two of the clocke in the afternoone, and came that night 
by seaven of the clocke in the evening, to a village in 
the country fourteen miles therehence called Bretueil. Breteuil. 
In that space I observed only these two things, a village 
exceedingly ransacked and ruinated, by meanes of the civil 
warres. And about some few miles on this side Bretueil, 
certaine vineyards which were the first that ever I saw. 

I went from Bretueil on Saturday, being the one and 
twentieth of May, about five of the clocke in the morning, 
and came about noone to a towne in the Province of 
Beauvoisis called Clermont, situate upon the toppe of a Ckrmont. 
hill, being fourteen miles from Bretueil. This Clermont 
is a meane and ignoble place, having no memorable thing 
therein worthy the observation. Only I talked with a 



A Friar born certaine Franciscan Frier there, borne in Ireland, who 
seemed to be a pretty Schollar and a man of good parts. 
He was then travelling to Abbevile to preach there. I 
observed this in him, that he was as well able to discourse 
of al particular politique and state matters of England, as 
any man in our company : and hee spake passing good 
English. This also I observed in Clermont, in the 
middest of a streete there was erected a gibbet with the 

A picture picture of a certaine fellow called Antony Peel, who was 

hanged instead painted hanging on a gallowes in the same picture. Under 
the which his offence was mentioned by way of a pro 
clamation for apprehending of him. The reason why his 
picture was set forth in that manner, was this : That as 
his picture was there hanged, so should he also if he might 
be apprehended. This custome is observed in many 
places of France. 

The Castle of In this towne is an old decayed Castle, belonging in 

Clermont. auncient time to the Counts of Clermont, the first of 
whom Robert was youngest sonne to Saint Lewes King 

[p- *9-] of France, and from whom Henry the 4, King of France 
and Navarre, lately slaine by that butcherly Ravilliacke, 
was lineally descended. 

I departed from Clermont about three of the clocke in 
the afternoone, and about sixe of the clocke came to a 
little towne hard by the ferry where we were transported 

Saint Liew. i n t o the He of France, called Saint Liew. This was 
twelve miles from Clermont : in this space I observed no 
memorable thing. 

The next morning being Trinity Sunday about foure 
of the clocke, I was transported over a river called the 
Oyse, which doth part Picardie from the He of France. 

Saint Brixe. That day I dined at a Parish called Saint Brixe, which was 
twelve miles beyond Saint Liew. Betwixt Saint Liew and 
Saint Brixe I observed these things. An exceeding rich 
and fertile country, full of corne, especially rie, meadowes, 
pastures, wooddes, many sweete rivers, a great multitude 
of goodly and sumptuous houses on both sides as we rod, 
most whereof were said to be the Advocates of Paris. 



Also many goodly rowes of wall-nutte trees, about three 

or foure miles after we were entred into the Isle, the 

fairest that ever I saw till then, about two hundred at the 

least in a row. About two miles on this side Saint Brixe, 

there is a most magnificent Palace built of faire white The Palace of 

free stone with many lofty turrets on the toppe of a hill, E scovan - 

in a beautifull parke. The place is called Escovan. This 

place belongeth to Monsieur Montmorencie the high 

Constable of France, who hath seaventeene Townes and 

Parishes in the country belonging to it, which are very 

neare bordering about it. 

I went from St. Brixe about one of the clocke in the 
afternoone, and came to Paris, which was eight miles 
therehence, about sixe of the clocke that day : the things 
that I observed betwixt St. Brixe and Paris were these : 
seven faire Pillars of free stone erected by an equall 
distance from each other, betwixt St. Denis and Paris, [p- 20 
In each of these is erected the Image of St. Denis the ts 

Areopagite in stone, with his two companions Rusticus 
and Eucherius. This S. Denis was S. Pauls Disciple, 
and the first that preached the Gospell to the Gaules. 
There is a certaine speech of his written in some of the 
Ecclesiasticall authors, which is this : Aut Deus naturae 
patitur, aut mundi machina dissoluetur. He spake that 
in Egypt whither he betooke himselfe for learning sake, 
when he saw that admirable eclipse of the Sunne, which 
was at the time of Christs passion, being mentioned in 
the sacred Evangelists. The reason why these pillars A miracle too 
or crosses are erected to the honour of S. Denis, is, S reat to be 
because they report (and indeed the legend of Saints, true 
which was composed by Jacob de Voragine Bishop of 
Genua affirmeth it) that when he walked betwixt Paris 
(where he was beheaded for the Gospell sake) and a pretty 
towne four miles from it, which is now called by his 
name, he rested seven times by the way with his head 
in his hand, before he came to the towne. A miracle too 
great to be true, though indeed I heard of the like 
example in Zurich the Metropolitan City of Swicerland, 





as I will hereafter mention in my observations of that 

Gallows on A little on this side Paris, even at the towns end, there 
MountFalcon. j s t he fayrest Gallowes that ever I saw, built upon a little 
hillocke called Mount Falcon, which consisteth of four- 
teene fair pillars of free-stone : this gallowes was made 
in the time of the Guisian massacre, to hang the Admiral 
of France Chatillion, who was a Protestant, Anno Dom. 

My Observations of Paris. 

Caesar Scaliger hath written this hexastichon 
in praise of Paris. 

(Rancigense Princeps populosa Lutetia gentis 

Exerit immensum clara sub astra caput. 
[p. 21.] Hie civis numerum, ars precium, sapientia finem 

Exuperant, superant thura precesque Deos. 
Audiit obstupuitque hospes, factusque viator 

Videt, & haud oculis credidit ipse suis. 

The Great- This Citie is exceeding great, being no lesse then ten 
ness of Paris, miles in circuit, very populous, and full of very goodly 
buildings, both publique and private, whereof the greatest 
part are of faire white free-stone : wherewith it is naturally 
more plentifully furnished then any Citie of Christendome 
that ever I read or heard of. For the whole citie, together 
with the suburbes, is situate upon a quarre of free stone, 
which doth extend it selfe to a great part of the territorie 
round about the citie, and ministreth that inexhausted 
plenty of stone for their houses. It is round and invironed 
with very auncient stone wals that were built by Julius 
Caesar when he made his residence here in the midst of his 
French conquests, from whom some have not doubted in 
former times to call it the citie of Julius. In those wals 
it hath at this time fourteene faire gates. As for her 
name of Paris, she hath it (as some write) from Paris the 
eighteenth King of Gallia Celtica, whom some write to 
have been lineally descended from Japhet, one of the three 
sonnes of Noah, and to have founded this citie : but the 



name of Lutetia it doth well brooke, Conveniunt rebus Dirty Stre, 
nomina saepe suis, being so called from the latin word 
Lutum, which signifieth durt, because many of the streetes 
are the durtiest, and so consequently the most stinking of 
all that ever I saw in any citie in my life. It is divided 
into three parts, the University, the Citie, and the Town 
by the noble river Sequana, commonly called la riviere de 
Seine, which springeth from a certaine hill of Burgundy 
called Voga, neare to the people of Langres, in Latin 
Lingones. The University whereof I can speake very The 
little, (for to my great griefe I omitted to observe those University. 
particulars in the same that it behoved an observative [p. 22.] 
traveller, having seene but one of their principall Col- 
ledges, which was their famous Sorbona, that fruitfull 
nursery of Schoole-divines) was instituted in the yeare 
796, by the good Emperor Charles the great, who used 
the helpe of our learned Countreyman Alcuinus his 
Master, and the Schollar of Venerable Beda in the erecting 
thereof. But to returne againe to the noble River Seine : 
There was building over it when I was in the Citie, a 
goodly Bridge of white free-stone, which was almost Bridges 
ended. Also there is another famous bridge in this Citie, the 
which farre excelleth this before mentioned, having one 
of the fairest streetes of all the Citie, called our Ladies 
street, in French la rue de nostre Dame built upon it. 
I have heard that Jucundus a certain Bishop of this citie, 
built this bridge ; of whom I have likewise heard this 
elegant distichon : 

Jucundus duplicem struxit tibi Sequana pontem, 
Hunc tu jure potes dicere Pontificem. 

He calls it Duplicem, because there was another bridge 
neare unto that called the little bridge, built by the same 
man at the same time. 

Besides there are three faire bridges more built upon 
this river, whereof the one is called the bridge of exchange, 
where the Gold-smiths dwell, S. Michaels bridge, and 
the bridge of birdes, formerly called the millers bridge. 



The reason why it is called the bridge of birdes, is, because 
all the signes belonging unto shops on each side of the 
streete are signes of birds. 

TheCatkedrd The Cathedrall Church is dedicated to our Lady, which 
Church of is nothing so faire as our Lady Church of Amiens : for 
Our Lady. j could see no notable matter in it, saving the statue of 
St. Christopher on the right hand at the coming in of the 
great gate, which indeed is very exquisitely done, all the 
rest being but ordinary, as I have seene in other Churches, 
The street which is called la rue de nostre Dame (as I 
[p. 23.] have before written) that is, our Lady streete is very 
faire, being of a great length, though not so broad as our 
Cheapside in London : but in one thing it exceedeth any 
street in London ; for such is the uniformity of almost al 
the houses of the same streete which stand upon the bridge, 
that they are made alike both in proportion of workman 
ship and matter : so that they make the neatest shew of all 
the houses in Paris. 

The Via Jacobaea is very full of booke-sellers that have 

faire shoppes most plentifully furnished with bookes. 

The Exchange I was at the *Pallace where there is the exchange, that 

f the is a place where the Marchants doe meete at those times 

Merchants. Q f ^ ^^ ag our ]y[ arc h ants joe m London. But it is 

nothing comparable to the place of our Marchants meeting 
in London, being a plaine pitched walke subdio, that is 
under the open ayre. As for their exchange where they 
sell many fine and curious things, there are two or three 
pretty walks in it, but neither for length, nor for the roofe, 
nor the exquisite workmanship is it any way to be com 
pared with ours in London. In this Palace there are 
sundry faire buildings, whereof one is very spacious and 
broad, and of a great heigth, adorned with many goodly 
pillars of free-stone, wherein the Advocats and civil 
Lawyers with many others do walke ; and it serveth the 
French men in that manner as our Westminster hall doth 
us English men. A little within this hall there is another 
goodly and beautiful roome, wherein the Judges sit in 

* Built by Philip the faire, Anno 1313. 


judgment : there do the Advocats and Civilians pleade, The hall of 
and discusse matters of controversie. There I saw two Judgment. 
grave auncient Judges sit in judgment in their scarlet 
gownes, accompanied at the bench with many other 
Civilians that were attired in blacke gownes, with certaine 
tippets and formalities that they weare upon pleading days, 
as the badges of their profession. The roofe of this roome 
is very rich, being sumptuously gilt and embossed with 
an exceeding multitude of great and long bosses hanging 
downward, which were likewise gilt. 

I went the three and twentieth of May being [p. 24.] 
Trinity Munday in the afternoone to the Kings Palace, The Kings 
which is called the Loure : this was first built by Philip 
Augustus King of Fraunce, about the yeare 1214, and 
being afterward ruined by time, was most beautifully 
repaired by Henry the second. Therein I observed these 
particulars : A faire quadrangular Court, with goodly 
lodgings about it foure stories high, whose outside is 
exquisitely wrought with white free-stone, and decked 
with many stately pillars and beautiful Images made of 
the same stone. As we go up towards the hall there are 

three or foure paire of staires, whereof one paire is passing 

c s c --ru c 

faire, consisting or very many greeses. 1 he roore over 

these staires is exceeding beautifull, being made ex forni- 
cato seu concamerato opere, vaulted with very sumptuous 
frettings or chamferings, wherein the formes of clusters of 
grapes and many other things are most excellently 
contrived. The great chamber is very long, broad and 
high, having a gilt roofe and richly embossed : the next 
chamber within it, which is the Presence, is very faire, 
being adorned with a wondrous sumptuous roofe, which 
though it be made but of timber worke, yet it is exceeding 
richly gilt, and with that exquisite art, that a stranger upon 
the first view thereof, would imagine it were either latten 
or beaten gold. 

I was also in a chamber wherein Queene Mary doth The Queen s 
often lie, where I saw a certaine kinde of raile which Chamber. 
encompasseth the place where her bedde is wont to be, 



having little pretty pillars richly gilt. After this I went 
into a place which for such a kinde of roome excelleth in 
my opinion, not only al those that are now in the world, 
but also all whatsoever that ever were since the creation 
The Gallery, thereof, even a gallery, a perfect description whereof wil 
require a large volume. It is divided into three parts, two 
sides at both the ends, and one very large and spacious 
[p. 25.] walke. One of the sides when I was there, was almost 
ended, having in it many goodly pictures of some of the 
Kings and Queenes of France, made most exactly in 
wainscot, and drawen out very lively in oyle workes upon 
the same. The roofe of most glittering and admirable 
beauty, wherein is much antique worke, with the picture 
of God and the Angels, the Sunne, the Moone, the 
Starres, the Planets, and other Celestiall signes. Yea so 
unspeakeably faire it is, that a man can hardly comprehend 
it in his minde, that hath not first scene it with his bodily 
The long eyes. The long gallery hath at the entrance therof a 
Gallery. goodly dore, garnished with foure very sumptuous marble 
pillers of a flesh colour, interlaced with some veines of 
white. It is in breadth about ten of my paces, and above 
five hundred in length, which maketh at the least half a 
mile. Also there are eight and forty stately partitions of 
white free stone on each side of this long gallery, each 
being about some twelve foote long, betwixt the which 
there are faire windowes : the walles of the gallery are 
Walls two about two yardes thicke at the least. The gallery is 
yards thick, covered with blew slatte like our Cornish tile. In the 
outside of one of the walles neare to the River Seine, 
there are four very stately pillers of white free stone, 
most curiously cut with sundry faire workes, that give 
great ornament to the outward frontispice of the worke. 
On the west side of the gallery there is a most beautifull 
garden divided into eight severall knots. The long 
gallery, when I was there was imperfect, for there was 
but halfe of the walke boorded, and the roofe very rude, 
the windowes also and the partitions not a quarter finished. 
For it is reported that the whole long gallery shall be 


made correspondent to the first side that is almost ended. 

At the end of the long gallery there were two hundred Two Hundred 

masons working on free stone every day when I was there, Masons. 

to make an end of that side which must answere the first 

side that is almost ended. Neare to which side there is 

a goodly Pallace called the Tuilleries, where the Queene [p- 2 ^-] 

mother was wont to lie, and which was built by her selfe. 

This Pallace is called the Tuilleries, because heretofore The Palace of 

they used to burne tile there, before the Pallace was built. the Tuileries. 

For this French word Tuillerie doth signifie in the French 

a place for burning of tile. 

The sixe and twentieth day of May being Thursday, 
and Corpus Christi day, I went to the foresaid Pallace 
which shall be joyned to the Loure by that famous gallery, 
when it is once ended. 

This Palace of the Tuilleries is a most magnificent 
building, having in it many sumptuous roomes. The The Chamber 
chamber of Presence is exceeding beautifull, whose roofe of Presence. 
is painted with many antique workes, the sides and endes 
of this chamber are curiously adorned with pictures made 
in oyleworke upon wainscot, wherein amongst many other 
things the nine Muses are excellently painted. One of 
the inner chambers hath an exceeding costly roofe gilt, in 
which chamber there is a table made of so many severall 
colours of marble, and so finely inlayed with yvorie, (which Ivory Work. 
kinde of worke is called in Latin cerostratum) that it is 
thought to be worth above five hundred pound. The 
staires very faire, at the edge whereof there is a goodly 
raile of white stone, supported with little turned pillers 
of brasse. The staires are winding having a stately roofe 
with open spaces like windowes to let in the aire. On 
the southside of the Pallace there is a faire walke leaded, 
but without any roofe, where I saw a goodly peece of 
Jeate in the wall of a great length and breadth. But it 
was so hackled that it seemed to be much blemished. 
There is a most pleasant prospect from that walke over 
the railes into the Tuillerie garden, which is the fairest 
garden for length of delectable walkes that ever I saw, 


The Tuileries 

[P- 27-] 

A Fish Pond. 

Ceremonies on 

but for variety of delicate fonts and springes, much 
inferior to the Kings garden at Fountaine Beleau. There 
are two walkes in this garden of an equall length, each 
being 700 paces long, whereof one is so artificially roofed 
over with timber worke, that the boughes of the maple 
trees, wherewith the walke is on both sides beset, doe 
reach up to the toppe of the roofe, and cover it cleane over. 
This roofed walke hath sixe faire arbours advanced to a 
great heigth like turrets. Also there is a long and spacious 
plot full of hearbes and knots trimly kept by many persons. 
In this garden there are two fonts wherein are two auncient 
Images of great Antiquity made of stone. Also there 
is a faire pond made foure square, and built all of stone 
together with the bottome, wherein there is not yet either 
fish or water, but shortly it shall be replenished with both. 
There I saw great preparations of conduits of lead, wherein 
the water shal be conveighed to that pond. At the end 
of this garden there is an exceeding fine Eccho. For I 
heard a certaine French man who sung very melodiously 
with curious quavers, sing with such admirable art, that 
upon the resounding of the Eccho there seemed three to 
sound together. 

Seeing I have now mentioned Corpus Christi day, I will 
also make relation of those pompous ceremonies that were 
publiquely solemnized that day in the streetes of the city, 
according to their yearlie custome : this day the French 
men call Feste de Dieu, that is, the feast of God. And 
it was first instituted by Pope Urban the fourth, by the 
counsell of Thomas Aquinas, a little before the raigne of 
the Emperour Rodolphus Habspurgensis. 

About nine of the clock the same day in the morning, 
I went to the Cathedrall Church which is dedicated to 
our Lady (as I have before written) to the end to observe 
the strange ceremonies of that day, which for novelty sake, 
but not for any harty devotion (as the KapSiayvuxrTw 
God doth know) I was contented to behold, as being the 
first that ever I saw of that kinde, and I hartily wish they 
may be the last. No sooner did I enter into the Church 



but a great company of Clergy men came forth singing, 
and so continued all the time of the procession, till they [p- 28.] 
returned unto the Church againe, some by couples, and 
some single. They walked partly in coapes, whereof 
some were exceeding rich, being (in my estimation) worth 
at the least a hundred markes a peece ; and partly in 
surplices. Also in the same traine there were many 
couples of little singing choristers, many of them not Little Singing 
above eight or nine yeares old, and few above a dozen : Choristers. 
which prety innocent punies were so egregiously deformed 
by those that had authority over them, that they could 
not choose but move great commiseration in any relenting 
spectator. For they had not a quarter so much haire left 
upon their heads as they brought with them into the 
world, out of their mothers wombs, being so clean shaved 
away round about their whole heads that a man could 
perceive no more then the very rootes. A spectacle very 
pittifull (me thinks) to behold, though the Papists esteeme 
it holy. The last man of the whole traine was the Bishop The Bishop of 
of Paris, a proper and comly man as any I saw in all the Par "- 
city, of some five and thirty yeares old. He walked not 
sub dio, that is, under the open aire, as the rest did. But 
he had a rich cannopy carried over him, supported with 
many little pillers on both sides. This did the Priests 
carry : he himselfe was that day in his sumptuous Ponti- 
ficalities, wearing religious ornaments of great price, like 
a second Aaron, with his Episcopall staffe in his hand, 
bending round at the toppe, called by us English men a 
Croisier, and his Miter on his head of cloth of silver, 
with two long labels hanging downe behind his neck. As The streets 
for the streets of Paris they were more sumptuously sum j> tuoui fy 
adorned that day then any other day of the whole yeare, 
every street of speciall note being on both sides thereof, 
from the pentices of their houses to the lower end of the 
wall hanged with rich cloth of arras, and the costliest 
tapistry that they could provide. The shewes of our 
Lady street being so hyperbolical in pomp that day, that 
it exceeded the rest by many degrees. And for the greater [p. 29.] 
c.c. 177 M 


of (he Altar. 


addition of ornament to this feast of God, they garnished 
Rick Plate many of their streets with as rich cupboords of plate as 
exposed. ever I saw J n a }l m y Hf e . For they exposed upon their 

publique tables exceeding costly goblets, and what not 
tending to pompe, that is called by the name of plate. 
Upon the middest of their tables stood their golden 
Crucifixes, with divers other gorgeous Images. Likewise 
in many places of the city I observed hard by those cup 
boords of plate, certayne artificiall rocks, most curiously 
contrived by the very quintessence of arte, with fine water 
spowting out of the cocks, mosse growing thereon, and 
little sandy stones proper unto rockes, such as we call in 
Latin tophi : Wherefore the foresaid sacred company, 
perambulating about some of the principall streets of 
Paris, especially our Lady street, were entertained with 
most divine honours. For wheras the Bishop carried the 
Sacrament, even his consecrated wafer cake, betwixt the 
Images of two golden Angels, whensoever he passed by 
any company, all the spectators prostrated themselves most 
humbly upon their knees, and elevated their handes with 
all possible reverence and religious behaviour, attributing 
as much divine adoration to the little wafer cake, which 
they call the Sacrament of the Altar, as they could doe to 
Jesus Christ himselfe, if he were bodily present with them. 
If any Godly Protestant that hateth this superstition, 
should happen to be amongst them when they kneele, and 
forbeare to worship the Sacrament as they doe, perhaps he 
may be presently stabbed or otherwise most shamefully 
abused, if there should be notice taken of him. After 
they had spent almost two houres in these pompous (I will 
not say theatricall) shewes, they returned again to our Lady 
Church, where was performed very long and tedious 
Solemn devotion, for the space of two houres, with much excellent 

Masses. singing, and two or three solemne Masses, acted by the 

[p. 30.] Bishops owne person. With his crimson velvet gloves 
and costly rings upon his fingers, decked with most 
glittering gemmes. Moreover, the same day after dinner 
I saw the like shew performed by the Clergy in the holy 



procession in the morning. Queene Margarite the Kings 
divorced wife being carried by men in the open streets 
under a stately cannopy : and about foure of the clocke, 
they made a period of that solemnity, all the Priests 
returning with their Sacrament to our Lady Church, where 
they concluded that dayes ceremonies with their Vespers. 

There are not Termes in Paris as in London, but one 
Terme only, that continueth the whole yeare, so that every 
weeke in the yeare, saving in the vintage time, which is in 
September, the Civilians meete together at the Palace for 
the debating of matters of controversie. But they do not 
repaire to Paris for matters of justice from all the parts of 
France, as in England we doe to London from al the 
remotest shires of our land, because it would be both an 
exceeding charge and trouble to the inhabitants of the 
country to be drawen to Paris, the head city of the land, 
seing some of the people dwell at the least four or five 
hundred miles from Paris. Therefore for the avoiding of 
this inconvenience, they keepe their Courts of Parliament 
in certaine principall cities, unto the which all they that 
dwell in that Dominion, whereof the city is head, make 
their repaire for determining their suites of law : these 
cities are in number eight. Paris in the Isle of France : 
Tholosa in Languedoc : Rouen in Normandy : Burdeaux 
in Aquitaine : Aix in Province : Gratianopolis, alias 
Grenoble, in Dolphinie : Dijon in Burgundie : Rhenes in 
little Britaine. 

I observed in Paris great aboundance of mules, which 
are so highly esteemed amongst them, that the Judges and 
Counsellers doe usually ride on them with their foot clothes. 

Also I noted that Gentlemen and great Personages in 
Paris doe more ride with foote-clothes, even foure to one 
then our English gentlemen doe. 

They report in Paris that the thorny crowne wherewith 
Christ was crowned on the Crosse is kept in the Palace, 
which upon Corpus Christi day in the afternoone was 
publiquely shewed, as some told me, but it was not my 
chance to see it. Truely I wonder to see the contrarieties 



Courts of 
kept in eight 

[P- 3I-] 

The Crown of 


The Vanities amongst the Papists, and most ridiculous vanities concern- 
Re/icf" ln their reliques, but especially about this of Christs 
thorny crowne. For whereas I was after that at the city 
of Vicenza in Italy, it was told me, that in the Monastery 
of the Dominican Fryers of that citie, this crown was kept, 
which St. Lewes King of France bestowed upon his 
brother Bartholomew Bishop of Vicenza, and before one 
of the Dominican Family : wherefore I went to the 
Dominican Monastery, and made suit to see it, but I had 
the repulse ; for they told me that it was kept under three 
or four lockes, and never shewed to any, by any favour 
whatsoever, but only upon Corpus Christi day. If then 
this crowne of Paris, whereof they so much bragge, be 
true, that of Vincenza is false : * Lo the truth and 
certainty of Papistical reliques. I lay at the house of a 
certain French Protestant in the suburbes of St. Germans, 
who in the civill warres fought against the Papists, and 
was most grievously wounded, who shewed me his 
wounds. His name was Monsieur de la Roy. 

I enjoyed one thing in Paris, which I most desired above 
all other things, and oftentimes wished for before I saw 
the citie, even the sight and company of that rare ornament 
Isaac of learning Isaac Casaubonus, with whom I had much 

Casaubon. familiar conversation at his house, near unto St. Germans 
gate within the citie. I found him very affable and 
courteous, and learned in his discourses, and by so much 
the more willing to give me entertainment, by how much 
the more I made relation to him of his learned workes, 
[p- 3 2 -] whereof some I have read. For many excellent bookes 
hath this man (who is the very glory of the French 
Protestants) set forth, to the great benefite and utility of 
the Common-weale of learning : as all the workes of 
Aristotle Greek and Latin, though indeed the Latin trans 
lation of other men : annotations upon Strabo, Diogenes 
Laertius, Suetonius, Plinies Epistles, Theocritus and 
Persius : Athenaeus illustrated with a learned Commen 
tary : Theophrasti characters : Polybius translated : a 
* If that of Vincenza be true, this of Paris is false. 



learned Discourse de Satira Romana & Grseca : Apuleii 
Apologia : Gregorii Nysseni Epistola de euntibus Hiero- 
solyman : Inscriptio antiqua : Historia Augusta : with 
which excellent fruits of his rare learning he hath purchased 
himselfe great fame in most places of the Christian world. 
Surely I beleeve he is a man as famous in France for his 
admirable knowledge in the polite learning and liberall 
sciences, as ever was Gulielmus Budeus in his time. 
Lately hath this peerlesse man made a happy transmigra- Isaac 
tion out of France into our renowned Island of great Casaubonnow 
Britaine, to the great joy of the learned men of our Nation, ln Bnfatn - 
whom he doth exceedingly illuminate with the radiant 
beames of his most elegant learning ; my selfe having had 
the happinesse to enjoy his desirable commerce once since 
his arrivall here. Two most memorable notes I derived 
from him, which I shall not this long time commit to 
oblivion : whereof the one was, that it was great pitty 
there is not found some learned man in England that 
would write the life and death of Queene Elizabeth in 
some excellent stile, that might propagate the memory of A worthy 
so famous, religious, and learned a Queene to posterity, enterprise. 
as a lively patterne for other Christian Princes, if not to 
imitate, at the least to admire. Certainly it is greatly to 
be wished that some notable man of profound learning 
(with whom our Kingdom is as plentifully furnished, in 
my opinion, as any nation of al Christendome) would 
undertake this so laudable a taske, wherewith he might [p. 33.] 
immortalize and consecrate to eternity the rare gifts of 
that incomparable Queene, most deservedly called the 
Phoenix of her sex : a worke that would be very acceptable 
(being exquisitely handled) not onely to the learned men 
of our owne Nation, but also to al forraine Countries that 
embrace the reformed religion. I would to God that these 
few lines wherein I have made relation of that learned 
mans speeches, may minister occasion to some singular 
scholler to take in hand this worthy enterprise. The other 
was, that I might see the next morning (if I would be 
abroad in the streetes) a certaine prophane and superstitious 



The ceremony ceremony of the Papists, which might be very fitly com- 
ofcarrymgthe p are d to a ceremony of the Pagans in Greece, called 
TraiTTocfropia, which signified the carrying of a bedde. 
For even as they carried a bedde abroad in solemne 
procession upon certaine dayes, with the Images of some 
of their gods upon it : so may you to morrow morning 
being Corpus Christi day (sayd he) see in the streets of 
this City a bedde carried after a very Ethnicall manner, or 
rather a Cannopy in the forme of a bedde, under the 
which the Bishop of the city with certaine Priests that 
carry the Sacrament do walke ; which indeed I saw per 
formed with a great company of strange ceremonies, as I 
have before written. 

In the Church of St. Germans Abbey, which is in the 
Suburbes of the City, I saw a gray Frier shrift a faire 
Gentlewoman, which I therefore mention because it was 
the first shrifting that ever I saw. Thus much of Paris. 


Went to S. Denis, which is foure miles from Paris, 
the foure and twentieth of May, being Tuesday, after 
dinner, where I saw many remarkable and memorable 
[p- 34-] things. I passed through a Cloyster before I came into 

the Church. These are the particulars that I saw : in a 
certaine loft or higher roome of the Church I saw the 
Images of the images of many of the French Kings, set in certain woden 
French Kings cupbords, whereof some were made onely to the middle 
at 5. Dems. w ^ tne r Crownes on their heads. But the Image of 
the present King is made at length with his Parliament 
roabes, his gowne lined with ermins, and his crowne on 
his head. There also I saw the crowne wherewith the 
Kings of France are crowned, and another wherewith the 
Queenes are crowned, being very rich and beset with 
many pretious stones of exceeding worth : the gowne faced 
with ermins, which they weare upon the day of their 
inauguration : their bootes, which they weare then also, 
being of watchet Velvet, wherein many Flower de-luces 
are curiously wrought : their spurres of beaten gold ; a 
sword of King Salomons, whose handle was massie golde : 



his drinking cuppe made of a rich kinde of stone : a rich 
drinking cup of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster : two Treasures 
Crucifixes of inestimable worth, beset with wonderfull 
variety of precious stones, as Carbuncles, Rubies, 
Diamonds, &c. two Scepters of massie gold that the King 
and Queene do carrie in their handes at their coronation : a 
representation of our Lady Church in Paris, made of 
silver, being a monument of exceeding value ; for it 
containeth the riches of our Lady Church, as gold and 
jewels, &c. All these things I saw in that roome. When 
I went out of that loft, I descended a paire of staires, and 
came into the Quire, where very neare to the high Altar, 
I saw the Sepulchres and monuments of the auncient Kings Monuments of 
and Queenes of France, made in Alabaster. Amongst the the ancient 
rest, the monument of Carolus Calvus King of France, Kings of 
and afterward Emperour, who bestowed on that Church 
one of the nayles wherewith Christ was crucified, as they 
affirme : that nayle I saw set in a faire peece of silver plate 
double gilt, at the top whereof there was a silver Theca [p. 35.] 
or Sheath, which contained the nayle. This Carolus lived 
about the yeare 841, and died in Mantua, as I will here 
after declare in my observations of that Citie. A most 
inestimable rich crosse, very gorgeously adorned with 
wondrous abundance of pretious stones of divers sorts, 
which King Dagobert, who was the founder of that 
Church, bestowed upon it : a Font of baptisme, made of 
porphyrie stone which was also bestowed on that Church 
by the said King, who after he had conquered Poitiers 
brought it there hence to this Church. The same Dago- 
berts monument I saw there, and under his Effigies this 
Epitaph is written : 

FIngitur hac specie bonitatis odore refertus 
Istius Ecclesiae fundator Rex Dagobertus 
Justitiae cultor, cunctis largus dator aeris : 
Affuit & sceleris ferus ac promptissimus ultor. 
Armipotens bellator erat, velutique procella 
Hostes confregit, populosque per arma subegit. 



Carolus Also the monument of Carolus Martellus the grandfather 
Martellus, Q f c aro j us Magnus. He was a very renowned and famous 
man in his time, Duke of Brabant, and stiled in Latin by 
the title of Major domus, that is, the prefect of the Kings 
house : a very eminent title of dignitie used in those days 
in the French Court ; which whosoever enjoyed (as did 
this Martellus for the space of six and twenty yeares) was 
esteemed the principal man of all France next to the 
King. This man is much ennobled by many classical 
Historiographers for his worthy exploits, especially for 
that most glorious victory that he got of Abidirimus king 
of the Saracins, whom he slew neare the citie of Tours in 
France, together with his whole armie that contained three 
hundred and seventie five thousand men ; but of his owne 
side he lost but one thousand and five hundred persons. 
The Epitaph written upon his Tombe is this : 

[p- 36.] TLle Brabantinus Dux primus in orbe triumphans, 
JL Malleus in mundo specialis Christicolarum, 
Dux Dominusque Ducum, Regum quoque Rex fore 

Non vult regnare, sed Regibus imperat ipse. 

Besides the Tombe of Carolus, which was the eldest of 
Carolus Magnus three sonns, by his second wife Hilde- 
gardis, daughter of the famous Godfrey Duke of 
Almannie. This Carolus was by his father made king 
An Unicorn s of Germany : an Unicornes home valued at one hundred 
thousand crownes, being about three yardes high, even 
so high that I could hardly reach to the top of it : the 
monument of the late Queene mother Katharine de 
Medicis, exceeding richly made of Alabaster with her 
statue, and her husbands upon it Henry the second. This 
Tombe is valued at twenty thousand crownes, at two 
corners whereof there are two very sumptuous Images 
that represent Virgins made of a rich kind of mettall : each 
of those Images cost two thousand crownes. About the 
Tombe are many rich marble pillars, whose base is made 
of marble also : an exceeding rich shrine, wherein the 



The Queen 

Mother s 



body of St. Denis the Deus Tutelaris, or Patron of St. Denis the 
Fraunce was intombed, with his two companions Rusticus Pafrc 
and Eucherius. Upon that shrine I saw St. Denis his 
head inclosed in a wonderful rich helmet, beset with 
exceeding abundance of pretious stones : but the skull it 
selfe I saw not plainly, only the forepart of it I beheld 
through a pretty crystall glasse by the light of a waxen 
candle. Moreover amongst many other monuments I saw 
the monument of the Cardinal! of Bourbon, and his 
statue very curiously made over it in Cardinals habites 
with his armes and scutchin. Thus much of St. Denis 

PEter Molinus a most famous and learned Protestant Peter 
preacheth usually every second Sunday at a place Molinus. 
called Charenton, about four miles from Paris, where [p. 37.] 
he hath a very great Audience, sometimes at the least 
five thousand people. There preach also two other very 
learned men, Monsieur Durand, and Monsieur de 

The eight and twentieth day of May, being Saturday, 
I rode in post from Paris about one of the clocke in the 
afternoone to the kings stately Palace of Fountaine Beleau, 
which is eight and twenty miles from Paris, and came 
thither about eight of the clocke in the morning : the 
king kept his Court here at that time. 

A little after I was past the last stage saving one, 
where I tooke post-horse towards Fountaine Beleau, 
there happened this chance : My horse began to be so A grievous 
tiry, that he would not stirre one foote out of the way, 
though I did even excarnificate his sides with my often 
spurring of him, except he were grievously whipped : 
whereupon a Gentleman of my company, one Master I. H. 
tooke great paines with him to lash him : at last when he 
saw he was so dul that he could hardly make him go with 
whipping, he drew out his Rapier and ranne him into 
his buttocke neare to his fundament, about a foote deep 
very neare. The Guide perceived not this before he 



came to the next stage, neither there before we were going 
away. My friend lingred with me somewhat behinde our 
company, and in a certain poole very diligently washed 
the horses wound with his bare handes ; thinking thereby 
to have stopped his bleeding ; but he lost his labour, as 
much as he did that washed the ^Ethiopian : for the bloud 
ranne out a fresh notwithstanding all his laborious washing. 
Now when the guide perceived it, he grew so extreame 
cholericke, that he threatned Mr. I. H. he would goe 
to Fountaine Beleau, and complaine to the Postmaster 
against him, except he would give him satisfaction ; so 
that he posted very fast for a mile or two towards the 
court. In the end Mr. I. H. being much perplexed, and 
finding that there was no remedy but that he must needes 
grow to some composition with him, unlesse he would 
[p- 3 8 -] sustaine some great disgrace, gave him sixe French 
crownes to stop his mouth. 

This Palace hath his name from the faire springs and 
fountaines, wherewith it is most abundantly watered, that 
I never saw so sweete a place before ; neither doe I thinke 
that all Christendome can yeeld the like for abundance 
of pleasant springs. 

The forest of About some three or four miles before I came to 
Fontdnebleau. Fountaine Beleau, I passed through part of that forrest, 
which is called Fountaine Beleau forrest, which is very 
great and memorable for exceeding abundance of great 
massy stones in it, whereof many millions are so great 
that twenty carts, each being drawen with ten Oxen, 
are not able to move one of them out of their place. 
The plenty of them is so great both in the forrest and 
neare unto it, that many hils and dales are exceeding 
full of them, in so much that a man being a farre off 
from the hils and other places whereon they grow, would 
thinke they were some great city or towne. Also in the 
same forrest are many wild Bores and wild Stagges. 

1 86 


My Observations of Fountaine Beleau. 

THis Pallace is more pleasantly situate then any that The Palace of 
ever I saw, even in a valley neare to the Forrest on Fontainrf/eau. 
both sides. A little way off there are those rocky hils 
whereof I have already spoken. There are three or foure 
goodly courts fairely paved with stone belonging to it. 
In the first there is an exquisite pourtraiture of a great 
horse made of white stone, with a pretty covering over 
it contrived with blew slatte. The second is farre fairer, 
wherein there is a gallery sub dio, railed with yron railes, 
that are supported with many little yron pillers. In the 
third which leadeth to the fonts and walkes are two 
Sphinges very curiously carved in brasse, and two Images [p. 39.] 
likewise of Savage men carved in brasse that are set in a 
hollow place of the wall neare to those Sphinges. The 
Poets write that there was a monster neare the city of 
Thebes in Boeotia, in the time of King Oedipus, which 
had the face of a maide, the body of a dogge, the wings 
of a bird, the nailes of a Lyon, and the taile of a Dragon, 
which was called Sphinx, according to which forme these 
Sphinges were made. In this Court there is a most A Sweet 
sweet spring or fountaine, in the middest whereof there Spring. 
is an artificiall rocke very excellently contrived, out of 
the which, at foure sides, there doth spout water inces 
santly through four little scollop shels, and from a little 
spout at the toppe of the rocke. There are also some 
pretty distance from the corners of the rocke, foure 
Dolphins heads made of brasse, that doe alwaies spout 
out water as the other. Hard by this font there is a 
pond of very goodly great Carpes, whereof there is Great Carps. 
wonderfull plenty. The whole pond is very great, but 
that part of it which is derived towards this font is but 
little, being invironed with a faire raile and little pillers 
of free stone. In one of the gardens there is another 
stately font, in whose middle there is another excellent 
artificial rocke with a representation of mosse, and many 
such other things as pertaine to a naturall rocke. At 



A Stately the toppe of it there is represented in brasse the Image 
of Romulus very largely made, lying sidelong & leaning 
upon one of his elbowes. Under one of his legs is 
carved the shee Wolfe, with Romulus and Remus 
very little, like sucklings, sucking at her teats. Also 
at the four sides of this rocke there are foure Swannes 
made in brasse, which doe continually spout out water, 
and at the foure corners of the font there are foure 
curious scollop shels, made very largely, whereon the 
water doth continually flow. This font also is invironed 
with a faire inclosure of white stone. Also the statue 
of Hersilia, Romulus his wife, is made in brasse, and 

[p. 40.] lyeth a pretty way from that fountaine, under a part of 
the wall of one of the galleries. The knots of the 
garden are very well kept, but neither for the curiosity 
of the workemanship, nor for the matter whereof it is 
made, may it compare with many of our English gardens. 

The gardens of For mos( . of the b or( j ers o f each knot is made of Box, 

rontatnebleau. , , , . , , ,-,-,, ,, 

cut very low, and kept in very good order. Ihe walkes 

about the gardens are many, whereof some are very long, 
and of a convenient breadth, being fairely sanded, and 
kept very cleane. One amongst the rest is inclosed with 
two very lofty hedges, most exquisitely made of filbird 
trees and fine fruits, and many curious arbours are made 
therein. By most of these walkes there runne very 
pleasant rivers full of sundry delicate fishes. The prin- 
cipall spring of all which is called Fountaine Beleau, 
which feedeth all the other springs and rivers, and where- 
hence the Kings Pallace hath his denomination, is but 


little, yet very faire. For Henry the fourth, who was 
King when I was there, hath lately inclosed it round 
about with a faire pavier of white stone, and paved the 
bottome thereof whereon the water runneth, and hath 
made fine seats of freestone about it, and at the west 
end thereof hath advanced a goodly worke of the foresaid 
white free stone, made in the torme of a wall, wherein 
are displayed his armes. 

Two things very worthy the observation I saw in two 



of the walkes, even two beech trees, who were very Great Beech 
admirable to behold, not so much for the height ; for I eSl 
have seen higher in England : but for their greatnesse. 
For three men are hardly able to compasse one of them 
with their armes stretched forth at length. Neare unto 
a little stable of the Kings horses, which was about the 
end of the walkes, I was let in at a dore to a faire greene 
garden, where I saw pheasants of divers sorts, unto which 
there doth repaire at some seasons such a multitude of Pheasants. 
wild pheasants from the forrest, and woodes, and groves 
thereabout, that it is thought there are not so few as a 
thousand of them. There I saw two or three birds that [p- 4 -] 
I never saw before, yet I have much read of admirable 
things of them in ^lianus the polyhistor, and other 
historians, even Storkes, which do much haunt many Storks kept in 
cities and townes of the Netherlands, especially in the Flushing. 
sommer. For in Flushing a towne of Zeland, I saw some 
of them : Those men esteeming themselves happy in 
whose houses they harbour, and those most unhappy 
whom they forsake. These birds are white, and have 
long legs, and exceeding long beakes : being destitute 
of tongues as some write. We shall reade that they were 
so much honoured in former times amongst the auncient 
Thessalians, by reason that they destroyed the Serpents 
of the country, that it was esteemed a very capital offence 
for any man to kill one of them : The like punishment 
being inflicted upon him that killeth a Storke, that was 
upon a murderer. It is written of them that when the 
old one is become so old that it is not able to helpe it A notable 
selfe, the young one purveyth foode for it, and sometimes example. 
carryeth it about on his backe ; and if it seeth it so 
destitute of meate, that it knoweth not where to get 
any sustenance, it casteth out that which it hath eaten 
the day before, to the end to feede his damme. This 
bird is called in Greeke TreXctjO yo?, wherehence commeth 
the Greeke word avrnreXapyeev, which signifieth to 
imitate the Storke in cherishing our parents. Surely it 
is a notable example for children to follow in helping 




[p. 42.] 

and comforting their decrepit parents, when they are not 
able to helpe themselves. Besides I saw there three 
Ostriches, called in Latin Struthiocameli, which are such 
birds that (as Historians doe write of them) will eate 
yron, as a key, or a horse shoe ; one male and two 
female. Their neckes are much longer than Cranes, and 
pilled, having none or little feathers about them. They 
advance themselves much higher then the tallest man 
that ever I saw. Also their feete and legs, which are 
wonderfull long, are pilled and bare : and their thighes 
together with their hinder parts are not only bare, but 
also seeme very raw and redde, as if they had taken 
some hurt, but indeed they are naturally so. Their 
heads are covered all with small stubbed feathers : their 
eies great and black : their beakes short and sharp : their 
feete cloven, not unlike to a hoofe, and their nailes formed 
in that manner, that I have read they will take up stones 
with them, and throw at their enimies that pursue them, 
and sometimes hurt them. The feathers of their wings 
and tailes, but especially of their tailes are very soft and 
fine. In respect whereof they are much used in the 
fannes of Gentlewomen. The Authors do write that it 
Foolish Birds, is a very foolish bird : for whereas hee doth sometimes 
hide his necke behind a bush, he thinks that no body 
sees him, though indeede he be scene of every one. 
Also he is said to be so forgetfull, that as soone as he 
hath laid his egges, he hath cleane forgotten them till 
his young ones are hatched. 

I saw two stables of the Kings horses, where in there 
are only hunting horses, in both as I take it about forty ; 
they were fine and faire geldings and nagges, but neither 
for finesse of shape comparable to our Kings hunting 
horses, nor as I take it for swiftnesse. A little without 
one of the gates of the Pallace, there stood some of the 
Kings guarde orderly disposed and setled in their rankes 
with their muskets ready charged and set on their restes, 
who doe the like alwaies day and night. Many of their 
muskets were very faire, being inlayed with abundance 


The King s 


of yvorie and bone. Seing I have now mentioned the 
guarde, I will make some large relation thereof according 
as I informed my selfe partly at the French Court, and 
partly by some conference that I have had since my 
arrivall in England, with my worthy and learned friend 
M. Laurence Whitaker. 

The French guard consisteth partly of French, partly [p- 43-] 
of Scots, and partly of Switzers. Of the French Guarde The French 
there are three rankes : The first is the Regiment of the guard. 
Card, which consisteth of sixteene hundred foote, 
Musketeers, Harquebushers and Pikemen, which waite 
always by turns, two hundred at a time before the Loure 
Gate in Paris, or before the Kings house wheresoever he 
lyeth. The second bee the Archers, which are under Archers. 
the Captaine of the Gate, and waite in the very Gate, 
whereof there be about fiftie. The third sort bee the 
Gard of the body, whereof there are foure hundred, but 
one hundred of them be Scots. These are Archers and 600 Switzers. 
Harquebushers on horsebacke : Of the Switzers, there 
is a Regiment of five hundred, which waite before the 
Gate by turnes with the French Regiment, and one 
hundred more who carie onely Halberts and weare 
swords, who waite in the Hall of the Kings house, where 
soever he lyeth. The Archers of the Garde of the body The attire of 
weare long-skirted halfe-sleeved Coates made of white tfie guard. 
Cloth, but their skirts mingled with Red and Greene, 
and the bodies of the Cotes trimmed before and behind 
with Mayles of plaine Silver, but not so thicke as the 
rich Coates of the English Garde. The Switzers weare 
no Coates, but doublets and hose of panes, intermingled 
with Red and Yellow, and some with Blew, trimmed 
with long Puffes of Yellow and Blewe Sarcenet rising up 
betwixt the Panes, besides Codpieces of the like colours, 
which Codpiece because it is by that merrie French writer 
Rablais stiled the first and principall piece of Armour, 
the Switzers do weare it as a significant Symbole of the 
assured service they are to doe to the French King in 
his Warres, and of the maine burden of the most laborious 



imployments which lye upon them in time of Peace, as 
old suresbyes to serve for all turnes. But the originall 
of their wearing of Codpieces and partie-coloured clothes 
grew from this ; it is not found that they wore any till 
Anno 1476 at what time the Switzers tooke their revenge 

IP- 44-J upon Charles Duke of Burgundie, for taking from them 
a Towne called Granson within the Canton of Berne, 
whom after they had defeated, and shamefully put to 
flight, together with all his forces, they found there great 

Great spoils, spoyles that the Duke left behind, to the valew of three 
Millions, as it was said. But the Switzers being ignorant 
of the valew of the richest things, tore in pieces the 
most sumptuous Pavilions in the world, to make them 
selves coates and breeches ; some of them sold Silver 
dishes as cheape as Pewter, for two pence half-pennie a 
piece, and a great Pearle hanging in a Jewell of the 
Dukes for twelve pence, in memorie of which insipid 
simplicite, Lewes the eleventh King of France, who 
the next yeare after entertained them into his Pension, 
caused them to bee uncased of their rich Clothes made 
of the Duke of Burgundies Pavilions, and ordained 
that they should ever after weare Suites and Codpieces 
of those varyegated colours of Red and Yellow. I ob 
served that all these Switzers do weare Velvet Cappes 
with Feathers in them, and I noted many of them 
to be very clusterfisted lubbers. As for their attire, 
it is made so phantastically, that a novice newly come to 
the Court, who never saw any of them before, would 
halfe imagine, if he should see one of them alone with 
out his weapon, hee were the Kings foole. I could 
see but few roomes of the Palace, because most of the 

The Scottish Scots that waited the Sunday morning when I was there, 

guard. hapned to dine at a marriage of their country woman in 

the towne, so that I could see them no more all that day, 
otherwise they promised to have procured me the sight 
of most of the principall roomes. Only I saw some 
few roomes wherein the Scottish guarde doth use to waite, 
and the chamber of Presence being a very beautifull 



roome, at one end whereof there was an Altar and the The chamber 
picture of Christ, &c. with many other ornaments for f presence - 
the celebration of the Masse : and at the other end the 
fairest chimney that ever I saw, being made of perfect [p. 4.5.] 
alabaster, the glory whereof appeareth especially in the A fair 
workemanship betwixt the clavie of the chimney, and Chimney. 
the roofe of the chamber, wherein the last King, Henry 
the fourth, is excellently pourtrayed on a goodly horse, 
with an honourable Elogium of his vertues, and his happy 
consummation of the civil warres, written in golden letters 
in Latin, above his pourtraiture. At the corners of the 
toppe are most lively expressed two goodly Lyons, with 
many other curious devices that doe marvailously beautifie 
the worke. This chimney cost the King fourescore 
thousand French crownes, which amount to foure and 
twenty thousand pound starling, as a certaine Irish 
Gentleman, which was then in the Presence, told me. 
Before I went out of the chamber of Presence the Priest 
beganne Masse, being attired in a very rich Cope. Many 
of the great Noblemen and Gentlemen of the Court 
repaired to the Masse. Amongst the rest there was one 
great personage Monsieur le Grand, chiefe Gentleman Monsieur le 
of the Kings chamber next to the Duke of Bouillon, Grand. 
Master of the horse, and one of the Knights of St. Esprit, 
that is, of the holy Ghost. The Ensigne of which 
knighthood he wore in his cloake, which was a Crosse 
of silver richly wrought therein. In the middest whereof 
was expressed the effigies of a Dove, whereby is repre 
sented the holy Ghost. The Irish Gentleman told me 
his yearly revenues were two hundred thousand French 
crownes, which do make threescore thousand pound 
starling. As for this order of knighthood, it was The Order of 
instituted Anno 1578, by Henry the third of that name, the Holy 
King of France and Poland ; and the reason why he 
intitled it the order of St. Esprit, was, for that upon the 
feast of Pentecost, which we commonly call Whitsunday, 
the Noblemen of Poland created him King of their 
country. These Knights of the holy Ghost, together 
c. c. 193 N 


with the Knights of St. Michael, are proper only to 
[p. 46.] France, as the Knights of the Toizon D or, that is, the 
golden Fleece, together with the knights of St. lago, 
otherwise called St. James, are to Spaine ; those of the 
Annunciation to Savoy ; St. Stephano to Florence ; and 
The Dauphin St. Georges knights to England. The Dolphin was 
of France. expected at the Masse, but I went downe before he came 
up, and met him accompanied with divers Noblemen of 
the Court, comming forth of one of the gardens, who 
ascended directly to the chamber of Presence to heare 
Masse. He was about seven yeares old, when I was at 
the Court. His face full and fat-cheeked, his haire black, 
his looke vigorous and couragious, which argues a bold 
and lively spirit. His speech quick, so that his wordes 
seeme to flow from him with a voluble grace. His 
doublet and hose were red Sattin, laced with gold lace. 
The Title of The Title of Dolphin was purchased to the eldest Sonne 
Dauphin. o f j^e king of France by Philip of Valoys, who beganne 
his raigne in France Anno 1328. Imbert, or Hubert, 
the last Count of the Province of Dolphinie and Viennois, 
who was called the Dolphin of Viennois, being vexed 
with the unfortunate and untimely death of his only 
sonne, resolved to cloister up himselfe in a Convent of 
Jacobin Friers, and to sell his Signiory to the Pope, who 
was then John the two and twentieth, for a very smal 
price, which Signiory was then newly created a County, 
being formerly a part of the kingdome of Burgundy. 
But the Nobility of his country perswaded him rather to 
sell his estate to the French king, so he sold it to Philip 
of Valoys, upon condition that the eldest sonne of the 
king of France should ever after during his fathers life, 
be called the Dolphin, and the first that bore that name 
was Charles the fifth, during the life of king John his 
father, which Charles beganne his raigne Anno 1364. 
The Duke of Also I saw the Duke of Orleans the kings second 
Orleans. sonne carried betwixt a Gentlewomans armes into the 
garden. He was but a yeare and ten monthes old when 
I saw him, as a Scot of the guarde told me. He is a 



marvailous full faced child. A little before him there [p- 47-] 

went an other Gentlewoman, carrying a redde taffata 

fanne, made in the forme of a little cannopy laced, and 

fringed with silver lace, with a long handle in her hand, 

which shee carryed over the childes head, to keepe away 

the sunne from his face. Besides, I saw the young 

Prince of Conde, being a Gentleman of the age of The Prince of 

twenty yeares or thereabout : he is the next man of Con ^- 

France to the King. Also I saw a worthy and gallant 

gentleman of Germany, a Protestant, who hath done the 

Emperor great service in his warres against the Turke : 

he hath beene at our English Court, where he hath beene 

very royally entertained by our king, and knighted, and 

at his departure our king bestowed a very royall reward 

upon him, as an Irish Gentleman told me at the French 

Court. While he was in England, he was a great Tilter : 

he went very richly at Fountaine Beleau. His cloake Costly attire. 

gorgeously beautified partly with silver lace, and partly 

with pearle. In his hat he wore a rich Ruby, as bigge as 

my thumbe at the least. Thus much of Fountaine Beleau. 

I Rode in post from Fountaine Beleau the nine and 
twentieth of May being Sunday, about seven of the 
clocke in the evening, and by eight of the clocke came 
to a Countrey village called Chappel de la Royne, about Chappel de la 
sixe miles from it : in which space I observed nothing tyy*e- 
memorable, but onely two wilde Stags in the Forrest of 
Fountaine Beleau. 

Most of the crosses that I saw in Fraunce had little 
boughes of boxe, set about the tops of them, and some 
about the middle ; which what it meant I know not, only 
I imagine it was put up upon good friday, to put men in 
minde, that as Christ was that day scourged amongst 
the Tews for our sins, so we should punish & whip our AL , 

i c T-I. L j f T- Abundance of 

selves for our own smnes. I he abundance of Rie in R ye . 
France is so great, even in every part thereof, through [p. 48.] 
the which I travelled, that I thinke the hundredth part 
thereof is hardly to be found in all England and Wales. 


Walnut trees 
starved by 

A doleful 

[P- 49-] 



Also I observed great store of hempe in France, such 
as is more forward in growth about Whitsontide, then 
most of our English hempe about Mid-summer. 

I departed from Chappel de la Royne the thirtieth 
day of May being Munday, about five of the clocke in 
the morning, and came to a towne called Montargis, 
being eighteene miles from it, about eleven of the clocke : 
betwixt which places, and a few miles beyond Montargis, 
I observed a thing that I much admired, that whereas 
I saw an infinite abundance of Walnut-trees some few 
miles on this side and beyond Montargis, almost all that 
I saw on this side the Towne were so starved and 
withered by the last great frost and snow (as I take it) 
that happened the winter immediately before, that I could 
not see as much as one leafe upon many thousand trees, 
that grew partly in closes and partly in the common fields. 
But all those that I saw a few miles beyond Montargis, 
whereof in two severall places especially there was an 
innumerable company, did flourish passing green and 
beare abundance of leaves and fruit : which contrary 
accident I attribute to the sterility of the ground in one 
place, and to the fertility thereof in another. 

At the towne Montargis there is a very goodly Castle 
of the Duke of Guise strongly fortified, both by the 
nature of the place, and by art : it hath many faire turrets, 
and is situate in so eminent and conspicuous a part of 
the towne, that it might be seene a great way off in the 

A little on this side Montargis I saw a very dolefull 
and lamentable spectacle : the bones and ragged frag 
ments of clothes of a certaine murderer remayning on a 
wheele, whereon most murderers are executed : the bones 
were miserably broken asunder, and dispersed abroad 
upon the wheele in divers places. Of this torment I 
have made mention before. 

I went from Montargis about one of the clocke in the 
afternoone, and came to a Towne about sixe of the clocke, 
eighteene miles therehence, called Briare, where I lay 



the thirtieth day of May being Munday. About a mile 

or two before I came to Briare I first saw that noble 

River Ligeris, in French the Loire, which is a very The Loire a 

goodly Navigable River, and hath his beginning from navigable 

a place about the confines of the territorie of the people Rlzrer - 

Arverni : this River runneth by Orleance, Nevers, Bloys, 

Ambois, Tours, Samur, Nantes, and many other noble 

cities and townes : in some places it is above a mile broad, 

and hath certaine pretty little Islands full of trees and 

other commodities in divers places thereof : as in one 

place I saw three little Islands, very neare together, 

whereof one had a fine grove of trees in it. Upon this 

river came a great multitude of Normanes into France, 

out of some part of the Cimbrical Chersonesus, which 

is otherwise called Denmarke, or (as others thinke) out 

of Norway their originall countrey, in the time of the 

Emperour Lotharius, and did much hurt in divers places 

of the countrey, till Carolus Calvus, then king of France, 

gave them a great summe of money to depart out of his 

territories. On both sides of this river I saw in divers 

places very fat and fruitfull veines of ground, as goodly 

meadowes, very spatious champaigne fieldes, and great 

store of woods and groves, exceedingly replenished with 


The windowes in most places of France doe very windows in 
much differ from our English windowes ; for in the France. 
inside of the roome it hath timber leaves, joyned together 
with certaine little iron bolts, which being loosed, and 
the leaves opened, there commeth in at the lower part 
of the window where there is no glasse at al, the open 
aire very pleasantly. The upper part of the window, 
which is most commonly shut, is made of glasse or [p. 50.] 

The French guides otherwise called the Postilians, A diabolical 
have one most diabolicall custome in their travelling upon cusforf >- 
the wayes. Diabolical it may be well called : for when 
soever their horses doe a little anger them, they wil say 
in their fury Allons diable, that is, Go thou divell. Also 



if they happen to be angry with a stranger upon the way 
upon any occasion, they will say to him le diable t emporte, 
that is, The divell take thee. This I know by mine 
owne experience. 

I rode in Post from Briare about five of the clocke in 
the morning the one and thirtieth day of May, being 

La Charitie. Tuesday, and came that day to a towne called la Charitie, 
thirty miles therehence, about twelve of the clock, where 
I dined. Betwixt Briare and la Charitie I saw a pretty 
little towne on the left side of the Loire situate on a hil, 
where there was a very stately and strong Castle that 
belongeth to the King. 

I rode from la Charitie about two of the clocke in the 

Ntvers. afternoone, and came to the citie of Nevers about sixe 
of the clocke that day, being eight miles therehence. 
Betwixt la Charitie and Nevers I observed nothing but 
this : a little on this side Nevers I saw the greatest 

Fair abundance of faire and beautifull Vineyards that I 

Vineyards, observed so neare together in all France : yea so exceeding 
was the plenty thereof, that I do not remember I saw 
halfe so many about any citie or towne whatsoever betwixt 
Calais and that. 

My observations of the Citie of Nevers called 
in Latin Niverna. 


city of Nevers is seated something higher then 
many other cities that I saw betwixt Calais and that : 
[p. 51.] It hath the goodly river Loire running by it, over which 
there is a faire wooden bridge : it is a Ducall and 
Episcopall citie. The Duke was then at the Court when 
Nevers a I was at Nevers. I saw his Palace being a little from the 
Ducal City. Cathedrall Church, having pretty turrets, and a convenient 
court, inclosed with a faire wall : but the Palace it selfe 
was but meane, being farre inferiour not onely to most 
of our English Noblemens and knights houses, but also 
to many of our private Gentlemens buildings in the 
countrey. The Cathedral Church which is called Saint 



Sers is pretty, neyther very faire nor very base, having The 

faire imagery at the east and west gates thereof. Amongst Cathedral 

some other remarkable things that I observed in this Church. 

Church, this was one : in one of the Wainscot leaves that 

cover the picture of Christ and our Lady (for in most of 

their Churches where they have pictures well made, they 

keep them so curiously, that they have leaves of fine thin 

wainscot to cover them) in one I say of these wainscot 

leaves, this excellent Latin poesie is written out of S. An Excellent 

Augustin : O anima Christiana, respice vulnera patientis, Latin Poes y- 

sanguinem morientis, precium redimentis. Haec quanta 

sint cogitate, & in statera cordis vestri appendite, ut totus 

vobis figatur in corde, qui pro vobis totus fixus est in 

cruce. Nam si passio Christi ad memoriam revocetur, 

nihil est tarn durum, quod non aequo animo toleretur. 

In this Church there is a most sumptuous Tombe of A Tomb of 
the last Duke and Duchesse : the pillars thereof are J<"per. 
many, which are made of very rich flesh coloured marble, 
interlaced with veynes of white. The Sextin that shewed 
me the Church, told me very simply that it was jasper 
stone. Also there are many faire and great square peeces 
of touch-stone about this monument : and their Epitaph 
written in Latin in capitall letters of gold in a piece of 
touch-stone in that side of the Tombe, which is in the 
Quire neare the high Altar. Besides there is much 
Alabaster about this Tombe, and their statues are very [p. 52.] 
fairely erected in Alabaster upon the toppe of the 
monument. Right opposite unto this there is erected 
a faire monument also of the Dukes father and mother 
done in Alabaster with their statues very artificially made 
at the toppe, and their Epitaphs in Latin : but this 
monument is farre inferiour to the other. 

This following was written upon the tombe of a 
certaine Bishop of Nevers, that was buried in the Quire 
of the same Church. First above the rest this is written 
in golden letters upon a peece of touch-stone. 

Sapientia amara inexpertis. 

The high 


Under that this, 

Arnaldi Sarbini Nivernensis Episcopi 
Stemmata. 1592. 

Last this, 
Magnus sedis bonos, sedi at prsestat esse honori. 

The high altar of the Church is very sumptuous, being 
beautified with stately pillars of marble, and great square 
peeces of touch stone, very like to those of the last Dukes 

The Quire is hanged with a great deale of very faire 
tapistry or cloth of arras. 

There is a Jesuitical Colledge in Nevers, whose printed 
bils in Latin of certain matters touching the victories of 
Carolus Quintus and other things I saw hanged up by 
the South gate of the Cathedrall Church, and in another 
place of the citie. 

Roguish I never saw so many roguish Egyptians together in 

Egyptians. anv one p} ace { n a ll m y \{f e as m Nevers, where there 

was a great multitude of men, women and children of 
them, that disguise their faces, as our counterfet western 
Egyptians in England. For both their haire and their 
faces looked so blacke, as if they were raked out of hel, 
and sent into the world by great Beelzebub, to terrific and 
astonish mortall men : their men are very Ruffians & 
Swashbucklers, having exceeding long blacke haire curled, 

[p- 53-] and swords or other weapons by their sides. Their 
women also suffer their haire to hang loosely about their 
shoulders, whereof some I saw dancing in the streets, 
and singing lascivious vaine songs ; whereby they draw 
many flocks of the foolish citizens about them. 

Wooden shoes. In Nevers I saw many woodden shoes to be solde, 
which are worn onely of the peasants of the countrey. I 
saw them worn in many other places also : they are usually 
sold for two Sowses, which is two pence farthing. Thus 
much of Nevers. 



IRode in Post from Nevers the first day of June being 
Wednesday, about seven of the clocke in the morning, 
and came to a towne called Moulins, being twenty sixe 
miles distant from it, about noone. The only thing that 
I observed betwixt Nevers and Moulins, was a goodly 
faire pitched casse-way a little beyond Nevers, the fairest 
indeed that ever I saw, which lasteth about some mile 
and halfe, being but newly made as I take it, and of a 
very convenient breadth. 

At Moulins which is a very faire towne, I observed Moulins. 
two things : the Castle which is a very strong and stately 
Fort, belonging to the King. And whereas there was a 
Fayre there that day that I came into the towne, I saw 
more Oxen and Kine there then ever I did before at any 
Fayre, each couple both of Oxen and Kine being coupled Store of Oxen. 
together with yoakes, and not loose, as our Oxen and Kine 
are sold at Fairs and Markets in England. These were so 
exceeding thicke from the one end of the Market place, 
which is very broad and long, to the other, that I did with 
no small difficulty passe through them to mine Inne. 

I went from Moulins about three of the clocke in the 
afternoone, and came to a place called St. Geran, being St - Geran. 
sixteen miles from it, about half an houre after eight of 
the clock in the evening : in this space I saw nothing but 
one very ruefull and tragicall object : ten men hanging [p. 54.] 
in their clothes upon a goodly gallows made of freestone 
about a mile beyond Moulins, whose bodies where con 
sumed to nothing, onely their bones and the ragged 
fitters of their clothes remained. 

I saw the Alpes within a few miles after I was passed The 
beyond St. Geran : they appeared about forty miles before 
I came to them. Those that divide Germany and Italy 
are by themselves, and they that divide France and Italy 
are by themselves : which Alpes are sundred by the space 
of many miles the one from the other. 

I rode in post from St. Geran about foure of the clock 
in the morning the second day of June being Thursday, 
and came that day to dinner to a place called St. Saphorine 



St. Saphorine de Lay, being twenty miles beyond it, by two of the 
de Lay. clocke : in this space I observed nothing memorable. 

I departed from St. Saphorine de Lay about three of 
the clocke in the afternoone, and came to an obscure 
towne called Tarare being seven miles from it, about 


eight of the clock in the evening. I observed these 
three things betwixt St. Saphorine de Lay & Tarare : 
almost all the flocks of sheepe that I saw there (for there 
I saw very many) were coale blacke : great abundance of 
pine trees about al the mountains, over the which I passed. 
For the whole countrey betwixt St. Saphorine de Lay & 
Tarare is so ful of steepe mountaines, that a man can 
have no even way, but continually high up-hils and steepe 
down-hils til he commeth to Tarare. The third was 
many faire woodes upon the tops and sides of those 

Tarare. In Tarare I observed one thing that I much admired, 

a woman that had no hands but stumpes instead thereof 
(whether she had this deformity naturally or accidentally 
I know not) did spinne flaxe with a distaffe as nimbly 

[p- 55-] and readily, and drew out her thread as artificially with 
her stumps, as any woman that ever I saw spinning with 
her hands. 

I went a friday morning being the third day of June 
about sixe of the clocke from Tarare in my bootes, by 
reason of a certaine accident, to a place about sixe miles 
therehence, where I tooke post horse, and came to Lyons 
about one of the clocke in the afternoone. Betwixt the 

Lyons. place where I tooke post and Lyons, it rained most 

extremely without any ceasing, that I was drooping wet 
to my very skinne when I came to my Inne. I passed 
three gates before I entred into the city. The second was 
a very faire gate, at one side whereof there is a very stately 
picture of a Lyon. When I came to the third gate I 
could not be suffered to passe into the city, before the 
porter having first examined me wherehence I came, and 
the occasion of my businesse, there gave me a little 
ticket under his hand as a kind of warrant for mine 



entertainement in mine Inne. For without that ticket 
I should not have beene admitted to lodge within the 
walles of the City. 

My observations of Lyons. 
Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written this hexastichon upon Scaliger s 

this City. rerseson 


FUlmineis Rhodanus qua se fugat incitus undis, 
Quaque pigro dubitat flumine mitis Arar 
Lugdunum jacet, antique novus orbis in orbe, 

Lugdunumve vetus orbis in orbe novo. 
Quod nolis, alibi quaeras : hie quaere quod optas, 
Aut hie, aut nusquam vincere vota potes. 

Lyons is a faire city being seated in that part of 
France which is called Lyonnois, and very auncient. 
For it was founded by a worthy Roman Gentleman* [p. 56.] 
Munatius Plancus, a Scholler of Ciceroes, and an excellent 
Orator. He beganne to lay the foundation thereof about Foundation 
the nineteenth yeare of Augustus his raigne, and three Lyons. 
and twenty yeares before Christs incarnation, at what 
time he governed Gallia Comata. Also at the same time 
he built the goodly city of Rauraca alias Augusta in 
Switcerland, which was but a little way distant from the 
famous city of Basil, but at this day so ruinated, and 
defaced that there remaine only the ruines thereof. In 
the city of Basil I saw in the Court of the Praetorium 
or Senate house a goodly statue newly erected to the 
honour of this Munatius Plancus as a memoriall, for the 
founding of that city of Rauraca, with an honourable 
Elogium subscribed underneath the same. But the 
fairest of the two was this city of Lyons, which is situate 
under very high rocks and hils on one side, and hath a 
very ample and spacious plaine on the other side. It is 
fortified with a strong wall, and hath seven gates, many 
faire streets, and goodly buildings, both publique and 

* Unto this man Horace wrote an Ode, as it appeareth 

Carmi. lib. i. Ode, 7. 




madeof white 

[p. 57.] 

A lamentable 

private. Very populous, and is esteemed the principal! 
emporium or mart towne of all France next to Paris. 
It is the seat of an Archbishop, who is the Primate and 
Metropolitan of France. The present Archbishop whose 
name is Bellicure sonne to the Chancellor of France, is 
but young being not above thirty yeares old. Most of 
the buildings are of an exceeding height, sixe or seven 
stories high together with the vault under the ground. 
For they have vaults or cellars under most of their houses. 

\ observed that most of their windowes are made of 
white paper j n man y pkces of the dty the whole 

window is made of white paper only, in some partly of 
white paper as the lower part, and partly of glasse as the 
higher part : almost all their houses are built with white 
free stone. 

The Romanes were wont heretofore to stampe their 
coynes of gold and silver in this city, and their tributes 
and rents were brought thither from all the places of 
France, which yeelded so great a revenue to the Romans, 
that only France was accounted the principal proppe of 
the Roman Empire. After Lyons was begunne to be 
inhabited and planted by the Romans, many of the great 
Gentlemen of Rome and generall Captaines of the Roman 
armies, being delighted with the opportunity of the place, 
came to make their habitation there, and built many 
sumptuous and magnificent Pallaces in the city. There 
was about the time of Jesus Christ being on the earth, 
such a lamentable fire in the city that it utterly consumed 
the same, and turned it into ashes ; Which Seneca in an 
Epistle to his friend Liberalis, a man of Lyons mentioneth 
with these words, Unius noctis incendium totam stravit 
urbem, ut una scilicet nox interfuerit inter urbem 
maximam & nullam : tanta fuit incendii vis & celeritas. 
Afer which time it was very sumptuously repayred 
againe. And about some foure hundred and fifty yeares 
after it was thus wasted with fire, Attyla King of the 
Hunnes, exceedingly ruinated the same, who when he 
came out of Pannonia, defaced many goodly cities in 



France, Italy, and Germany, as I wil hereafter more 
particularly declare in the description of some of the 
Italian and German cities. 

There are two faire Rivers that runne by this Citie, Two Fair 
whereof one is called in French Sone ; in Latine it hath Rivers. 
two names, Arar, mentioned by the ancient Ethnicke 
Poets, and Sangona, so called from Sanguis, because the 
blood of the holy Martyrs of Christ (which were most 
cruelly tormented and put to death by some of the 
persecuting and Tyrannicall Emperours of Rome in the 
Amphitheatre, whose ruines I saw at the top of an high 
Hill on one side of the Citie) distilled in so great 
abundance from the Hill into a certaine streete, that hath 
ever since that time been called Gongilion quasi Goggylion 
(as I take it) which commeth from the Greeke word 
yoyyvCeiv that signifieth to murmure, that it brake [p. 58.] 
foorth afterward with a marveilous violence into the River 
Arar, which it embrewed and died with a crimson colour The River 
for the space of twentie miles : at the last that bloud was Arar fy ed 
congealed together in a little Mountaine or great wtt 
Congeries at the Citie Matiscona, till in the ende it 
was dissolved to nothing. Upon this occasion I say, 
had this river Arar his other name Sangona. The first 
originall of this River springeth in the Territorie of 
those people of France, that are called Sequani which 
are those of Burgundy. There is a faire stonie Bridge 
built over this Arar, supported with ten Arches, which 
is said to have beene made at the charge of one of the 
Bishops of the Citie, called Humbertus. The other 
River is called Rhodanus, much famoused by the ancient Rhodanm a 
Latine Poets for the swiftnesse thereof : for I observed swift River. 
it to be the swiftest River of all those that I saw in 
my Travels, onely the Lezere in Savoy excepted, and 
it runneth much swifter than the Arar neere unto it, 
whereat I did not a little wonder. This River springeth 
from the Rheticall Alpes, out of a certain high Mountaine 
called Furca, where it taketh a very small beginning, 
but being afterward amplified with a great multitude of 



little Rivers that descend from the Alpes, it runneth 

through the Country of Valesia, & so passing through 

the great Lake Lemanus, it issueth againe out of the 

same at Geneva, and thence passeth down to the Citie 

Rhodanus o f Lyons. Some derive the word Rhodanus from the 

signtfieth to L a ti ne word rodere, which signified! to gnaw, because 

gnaw. . . , .11 -11 j 1 

m certame places it doth continually gnaw and eate ms 

bankes. Suetonius writeth in the life of Julius Caesar, 

that Caesar after his returne to Rome, from the warres 

of Africa, having foure Triumphs granted him, procured 

the portraiture of this River Rhodanus to be curiously 

wrought in Gold, and was publikly presented in his first 

triumph, which was that of France, in regard it was the 

[p- 59-] principall River of that Country, for the conquering 

whereof he spent almost ten yeares. Over this River 

Ten Water also there is a very faire Bridge, and ten pretie water 

Mills. Milles I sawe on the water neere to the Bridge, seven 

on one side, and three on the other. A little beyond 

the townes end, the River Arar and the Rhodanus doe 

make a confluent, where the Arar after it hath mingled 

it selfe with the Rhodanus leeseth his name. I saw a 

A banicade Barracado of boats chained together over the Arar, to 

of boats. t h e enc [ t^t no Boates that are within the Citie may goe 

foorth, nor any without come in, without the licence of 

the Magistrates. 

There is in the South side of the Towne, neere the 
High stairs. Rockie-hils, an exceeding high paire of Staires, which 
containeth one hundred and foureteene stonie greeses ; 
above these staires there is a long stony walke at the 
least halfe a mile high, and very steepe, which leadeth 
to the top of the Hill where there are many old Monu 
ments, whereof one is the Temple of Venus built on 
the very top of the hill, but now it is converted to a 
Colledge of Canon Monkes. Also there are to be seene 
the ruines of that huge amphitheatre, wherein those 
constant servants of Jesus Christ willingly suffered 
many intolerable and bitter tortures for his sake : I call 
it a huge amphitheatre, because it is reported it contained 



at least fiftie thousand persons. As for those Martyrs Martyrs 

which suffered there, frequent mention of them doeth ntferings. 

occurre in most of the ancient Ecclesiastical Historians, 

especially Eusebius Bishop of Caesarea, who writeth a 

no lesse Tragicall then copious Historic of the cruell 

sufferings of Attalus, Sanctus, Maturus, and the 

vertuous woman Blandina, all which were in this 

place most cruelly broyled in iron Chaires for the faith 

of their Redeemer in the fourth persecution of the 

Primitive Church, under the Emperour Antoninus 

Verus. He that will reade the Tragical and most 

pitifull Historie of their Martyrdome, which I have 

often perused not without effusion of teares, let him 

reade the Epistle of the brethren of Lyons and Vienna, [p. 60.] 

to the brethren of Asia and Phrygia, in the fifth Booke 

and second Epistle of Eusebius his Ecclesiastical 

Historie. Amongst many other things, that have 

famoused this Citie, the death of Pontius Pilate the Pontius Pilate 

chiefe Prefect or President of the Romanes in Judea, slew himself at 

(under whom our blessed Saviour suffered death) was ^ ons 

not the least ; not that I affirm the Citie was any thing 

the better for that he died in the same, but I saw it was 

more famoused, that is, the more spoken of over all 

places of Europe : For whereas Pilate shortly after 

Christ s ascension, was by the commandment of Tiberius 

Caesar the Emperour, summoned to come to Rome, so 

great matters were there objected against him, that he 

was deprived of his Authority, and afterward banished 

to this Citie of Lyons, in which at last he slew himselfe, 

as good Historiographers doe Record. Here also 

Magnentius, who had beene proclaimed Emperour 

against Constantius the Emperor, and the yongest 

of the three Sonnes of Constantine the Great, here I 

say he slew himselfe as desperately as Pilate before 

named, shortly after he had beene conquered in a great 

Battell near the Citie of Mursia in Spaine, by the Armies 

of the said Constantius. 

Here was that good Emperour Gratian slaine by the 



Tyrant Maximus, about the twentie nineth yeare of his 
age, as he was flying into Italy to his brother Valentinian, 
for aide against the rebellious legions of Britannie. 
Neere unto this Citie was Clodius Albinus overthrowne 
A famous in a very memorable and famous Battell by the Emperour 
battle. Septimius Severus, with whom he contended about the 
Empire of Rome ; where Severus after hee had taken 
him in fight, strooke off his head as some write, others 
affirme that he rode over his dead carkasse with a swift 
horse, and afterward threwe his body into the River 

There are many Churches in this city, whereof these 

[p. 6 1.] are the names. Saint Johns is the Cathedrall, in which 

Nine and I was : S. Paules wherein I was also : The Capucins : 

thirty T ne Minims : The Observantines : The Carthusians : S. 

Churches. Georges: S. Justus: S. Irenaeus : S. Justine Martyr: 

The Augustinians : The Celestines : Sancti Spiritus : 

Mary Magdalens : St. Katharines : The Carmelites : The 

Jesuites : The Franciscans : S. Clares : S. Peters : S. 

Sorlins : S. Claudius : The desert Temple where Nunnes 

dwell : S. Vincentius : S. Antonies : The Church of the 

Penitentiary Friers, of the order of S. Lewes the holy 

King of Fraunce : S. Marcellus : The Benedictines : S. 

^Eneas where there was heretofore a Colledge of 

Athenians : S. James the great, a Church that is called 

forum Veneris : S. Nicesins : S. Cosmas and Damianus : 

S. Stephens : S. Claraes : S. Roche : S. Laurence : A 

Church called Hospitium Dei, which is an Hospitall of 

poore folkes : A Church of the Comfortines. The totall 

number is nine and thirty. 

The two Churches of Irenasus and Justinus Martyr, 
were (as some say) built by themselves. But I doe 
not beleeve that to be true, because the persecution of 
the Church was so violent in their time under the Pagan 
Emperours of Rome, that I thinke there were no 
Churches then built for the exercise of Christian religion. 
These were great companions and consorts together about 
little more then a hundred yeares after Christ : Whereof 



one, namely Irenseus, was the first Bishop of Lyons, he Irenaeus First 
was the Scholler of Poly carpus, Bishop of Smyrna in L "*f 
Asia, who was one of the three Schollers of S. John 
the Evangelist. The same Irenseus hath written many 
books of the heresies before, and in his time, which 
bookes are yet extant. The other was converted to 
Christianity from Ethnicisme, and hath written many 
excellent Treatises in Greeke, much esteemed in this 
age ; as an Apology for the Christians to the Emperour 
Adrian, and Antoninus Pius : against Triphone the Jew, 
&c. at last they both were martyred. The ruines of the [p- 62.] 
auncient Church of S. Irenaeus I saw my selfe on one 
side of the river Arar. I was at the Colledge of the 
Jesuites, wherein are to be observed many goodly things : 
The severall Schooles wherein the seven liberall sciences 
are professed, and lectures thereof publiquely read. In 
their Grammar schoole I saw a great multitude of yong A fair 
Gentlemen and other Schollers of meaner fortunes at Grammar 
their exercises. It is a very faire Schoole adorned with s ^ 00 ^ 
many things that doe much beautifie it, especially the 
curious pictures, as one holding a sword in his hand, 
whereunto there is added this Greeke Motto eV ^ovaSi 
Tpias. Another that hath his heroycall embleme, 
which is an Homericall Hemistichium et? Kolpavois eVrto. 
The other part of the verse is owe ayadov iroXvicopavit]. 
Their Cloyster is very faire and newly garnished with 
the pictures of sixe of the Apostles. Neare to the which, 
they have a faire little garden. One of the Jesuits that 
used me very kindly, shewed me their library, which is an The library of 
exceeding sumptuous thing, and passing wel furnished the 
with books. He shewed me the King of Spaines Bible, 
which was bestowed on them by the French King Henry 
the fourth. Of all faculties they have great store of 
bookes in that library, but especially of Divinity. Also 
there they have the pictures of their Benefactors, whereof 
most were Cardinals, as Cardinall Borromeus Archbishop 
of Milan ; Cardinall Turnonensis, &c. Besides, they 
have the workes of all the learned men of their order 
c. c. 209 o 



[P- 63-] 


that have written, and the Pictures of all those of that 
order that have suffered death for preaching their doctrine. 
Amongst the rest the picture of Edmund Campion, with 
an Elogium subscribed in golden letters, signifying why, 
how, and where he dyed. Lastly, he brought me into 
their Church, where he shewed me a very faire Altar 
beautified with most glorious pillers that were richly gilt, 
those pillers he told me were to remaine there but a 
little while, and to be taken away againe. Of the Society 
of them there are threescore and no more. But of those 
punies, those tyrones that are brought up under those 
threescore, there are no lesse then a thousand and five 
hundred, who have certaine other Schooles in the towne 
farre remote from this Colledge, which serveth for 
another Seminary to instruct their Novices. 

On Sunday being the fift day of June, I was at even- 

Benedutlne song at the Monastery of the Benedictine Monks, where 
I saw tenne of them at prayer in the Quire of their 
Church : they were attyred in blacke gownes with fine 
thin vayles of blacke Say over them : one of them was 
as proper a man as any I saw in all France. In a Chappel 
which is but a little from their Quire there is a very 
ancient and rich table, wherein the picture of Christ and 
the Virgin Mary is most exquisitely drawne, and gilt 
over : but it hath lost much of his pristin beauty : it is 
reported that it hath beene the fairest picture of all 
France. Neare to this Monastery there is a very pleasant 

A pleasant and delectable garden of the Arch-bishop of Lyons, the 
fairest that I saw in all France, saving that of the 
Tuilleries and Fountaine Beleau : in it are sundry fine 
walkes, and great abundance of pleasant fruits of divers 
sorts, and a great many pretty plots, both for pleasure 
and profite. Also there is a fine nursery of young trees, 
and the sweetest grove for contemplation that ever I 
saw, being round about beset with divers delicate trees, 
that at the Spring time made a very faire shew. 

Many of the Kings Mules which are laden with 
merchandise come to Lyons, where they lay down their 




burdens, who have little things made of Osier like The King s 
Baskets hanging under their mouths, wherein there is Mules. 
put hay for them to eate as they travell : over their 
forehead and eyes they have three peeces of plate, made 
eyther of brasse or latten, wherein the Kings armes are 
made : also they have pretty peeces of pretty coloured 
cloth, commonly redde hanging from the middle of their [p- 6 4~] 
forehead downe to their noses, fringed with long faire 
fringe, and many tassels bobbing about it. 

I spake with a certaine Pilgrime upon the bridge over A Simple 
the Arar, who told me that he had been at Compostella PUffim- 
in Spaine, and was now going to Rome, but he must 
needs take Avignion in his way, a French towne which 
hath these many years belonged to the Pope. I had a 
long discourse with him in latin, who told me he was a 
Roman borne. I found him but a simple fellow, yet 
he had a little beggarly and course latin, so much as a 
Priscianist may have. 

I lay at the signe of the three Kings, which is the The Inn of the 
fayrest Inne in the whole citie, and most frequented of Three Ktn &- 
al the Innes in the towne, and that by great persons. 
For the Earle of Essex lay there with all his traine 
before I came thither : he came thither the Saturday 
and went away the Thursday following, being the day 
immediately before I came in. At that time that I was 
there, a great Nobleman of France one Monsieur de 
Breues (who had laien Lidger Ambassadour many years 
in Constantinople) lay there with a great troupe of gallant 
Gentlemen, who was then taking his journey to Rome 
to lie there Lidger. Amongst the rest of his company 
there were two Turkes that he brought with him out of 
Turkey, whereof one was a blacke Moore, who was his A black moor 
jester ; a mad conceited fellow, and very merry. He J estcr - 
wore no hat at all eyther in his journey (for he overtooke 
us upon the way riding without a hat) or when he rested 
in any towne, because his naturall haire which was 
exceeding thicke and curled, was so prettily elevated in 
heigth that it served him alwaies instead of a hat : the 



A scholarly other Turk was a notable companion and a great scholler 
Turk. j n his kinde ; for he spake sixe or seven languages besides 

the Latin, which he spake very well : he was borne in 
Constantinople. I had a long discourse with him in 
[P- 5-] Latin of many things, and amongst other questions I 
asked him whether he were ever baptized, he tolde me, 
no, and said he never would be. After that wee fell 
into speeches of Christ, whom he acknowledged for a 
great Prophet, but not for the Sonne of God, affirming 
that neither he nor any of his countrey men would 
worship him, but the onely true God, creator of heaven 
and earth : and called us Christians Idolaters, because we 
worshipped images ; a most memorable speech if it be 
properly applied to those kind of Christians, which 
deserve that imputation of Idolatry. At last I fell into 
some vehement argumentations with him in defence of 
Christ, whereupon being unwilling to answer me, he 
suddenly flung out of my company. He told me that 
The Great the great Turke, whose name is Sultan Achomet, is not 
Turk. above two and twenty years old, and that continually 

both in peace and warre he doth keepe two hundred 
thousand souldiers in pay, for the defence of those 
countries in which they are resident : a matter certainly 
of incredible charge to the great Turke : in which I per 
ceive that he farre exceedeth the auncient Romane 
Emperours, that had both a larger Empire and better 
meanes to defray the charge then himselfe. For they 
kept in al their Provinces of Asia, Europe and Africa 
The Army of b u j- fi ve an( j twenty legions, each whereof contained sixe 
AnaentRome. thousand anc j a hundred foot-men (according to the 
authority of Vegetius) and seven hundred twenty sixe 
horse-men, besides twelve Praetorian and LTrban cohorts 
in the citie of Rome, for the guard of the Emperours 
Palace : whereof the first which was the principall of all, 
contained one thousand, one hundred and five foot-men, 
and one hundred thirty and two horse-men : the others 
equally five hundred and fiftie foot-men and sixtie six 
hors-men : which number I finde to fall short by more 



then thirty thousand of those that the Turke keepeth 
this day in his garisons. Many other memorable things 
besides these this learned Turke told me, which I will [p- 66.] 
not now commit to writing. 

At mine Inne there lay the Saturday night, being the 
fourth of June, a worthy young nobleman of France of 
two and twenty years olde, who was brother to the Duke The brother to 
of Guise and Knight of Malta. He had passing fine the Duke of 

i j rv u j u- Gunc - 

musicke at supper, and alter supper he and his companions 

being gallant lustie Gentlemen, danced chorantoes and 
lavoltoes in the court. He went therehence the Sunday 
after dinner, being the fifth day of June. 

At the South side of the higher court of mine Inne, 
which is hard by the hall (for there are two or three 
courts in that Inne) there is written this pretty French 
poesie : On ne loge ceans a credit : car il est mort, les 
mauvais paieurs I ont tue. The English is this : Here 
is no lodging upon credit : for he is dead, ill payers have 
killed him. Also on the South side of the wal of 
another court, there was a very petty and merry story A Merry 
painted, which was this : A certain Pedler having a Story. 
budget full of small wares, fell asleep as he was travelling 
on the way, to whom there came a great multitude of 
Apes, and robbed him of all his wares while he was 
asleepe : some of those Apes were painted with pouches 
or budgets at their backs, which they stole out of the 
pedlers fardle, climing up to trees, some with spectacles 
on their noses, some with beades about their neckes, some 
with touch-boxes and ink-hornes in their hands, some 
with crosses and censour boxes, some with cardes in their 
hands ; al which things they stole out of the budget : 
and amongst the rest one putting down the Pedlers 
breeches, and kissing his naked, &c. This pretty conceit 
seemeth to import some merry matter, but truely I know 
not the morall of it. 

I saw a fellow whipped openly in the streets of Lyons Qp en 
that day that I departed therehence, being munday the Whippings. 
sixth day of June, who was so stout a fellow, that though 



he received many a bitter lash, he did not a jot relent at 

[p. 67.] At Lyons our billes of health began : without the 

which we could not be received into any of those cities 
that lay in our way towards Italy. For the Italians are 
so curious and scrupulous in many of their cities, especially 
those that I passed through in Lombardy, that they will 
admit no stranger within the wals of their citie, except 
Bills of he bringeth a bill of health from the last citie he came 
Health. from, to testifie that he was free from all manner of 

contagious sickenesse when he came from the last citie. 
But the Venetians are extraordinarily precise herein, 
insomuch that a man cannot be received into Venice 
without a bill of health, if he would give a thousand 
duckets. But the like strictnesse I did not observe in 
those cities of Lombardy, through the which I passed in 
my returne from Venice homeward. For they received 
me into Vicenza, Verona, Brixia, Bergomo, &c. without 
any such bill. 

He that will be throughly acquainted with the principall 
antiquities and memorables of this famous citie, let him 
Symphorianus reade a Latin Tract of one Symphorianus Campegius a 
Campeglushis French man and a learned Knight borne in this citie, 
Latin Tract. w j lo j^^ ^Q^ copiously and eloquently discoursed 
thereof. For it was my hap to see his booke in a learned 
Gentlemans hands in this citie, who very kindly com 
municated the same unto me for a little space : wherof 
I made so little use, or rather none at all, that I have 
often since much repented for it. Thus much of Lyons. 


Remayned in Lyons two whole dayes, and rode ther- 
hence about two of the clocke in the afternoone on 
Munday being the sixth day of June, and came about 
halfe an houre after eight of the clocke in the evening 
Vorplllere. to a Parish called Vorpillere, which is tenne miles beyond 
[p. 68.] Lyons. In this space I observed nothing but abundance 
of walnut-trees and chesnut-trees, and sundry heards of 
blacke swine, and flocks of blacke sheepe. 



I rode from Vorpillere the seventh day of June, being 
Tuesday, about halfe an houre after sixe of the clocke 
in the morning, and came to a parish about tenne miles 
therehence, called la Tour du Pin, about eleven of the La Tour du 
clocke : in this space I saw nothing memorable. Pin - 

I went from la Tour du Pin about two of the clocke 
in the afternoon, and came to a place called Pont de 
Beauvoisin about sixe of the clocke. Betwixt these 
places there is sixe miles distance : at this Pont de Pont de 
Beauvoisin France and Savoy doe meet, the bridge Beauvoisin. 
parting them both. When I was on this side the bridge 
I was in France, when beyond, in Savoy. 

The end of my observations on France. 

My observations of Savoy. 

Went from Pont de Beauvoisin about 
halfe an houre after sixe of the clocke 
in the morning, the eight day of June 
being Wednesday, and came to the foote 
of the Mountaine Aiguebelette which is Alguebelette 
the first Alpe, about ten of the clocke the first Alp. 
the morning. A little on this side 



the Mountaine there is a poore village called Aiguebelle, 
where we stayed a little to refresh our selves before we 
ascended the Mountaine. I observed an exceeding great 
standing poole a little on this side the Mountaine on the 
left hand thereof. 

The things that I observed betwixt Pont de Beauvoisin, 
and the foote of the Mountaine, were these. I saw divers 
red snailes of an extraordinary length and greatnesse, such Red Snails. 
as I never saw before. Barly almost ripe to be cut, whereas 
in England they seldome cut the rathest before the begin 
ning of August, which is almost two moneths after. Like- [p. 69.] 
wise I saw such wonderful abundance of chestnutte trees, 
that I marvailed what they did with the fruit thereof : it 
was told me that they fedde their swine therewith. 

I ascended the Mountaine Aiguebelette about ten of 
the clocke in the morning a foote, and came to the foote 

2I 5 


Carried in 

of the other side of it towards Chambery, about one of 
the clocke. Betwixt which places I take it to be about 
some two miles, that is a mile and halfe to the toppe of 
the Mountaine, and from the toppe to the foote of the 
descent halfe a mile. I went up a foote, and delivered 
my horse to another to ride for me, because I thought it 
was more dangerous to ride then to goe a foote, though 
indeede all my other companions did ride : but then this 
accident hapned to me. Certaine poore fellowes which 
get their living especially by carrying men in chairs from 
the toppe of the hill to the foot thereof towards Cham 
bery, made a bargaine with some of my company, to 
carry them down in chaires, when they came to the toppe 
of the Mountaine, so that I kept them company towards 
the toppe. But they being desirous to get some money 
of me, lead me such an extreme pace towards the toppe, 
that how much soever I laboured to keepe them company, 
I could not possibly performe it : The reason why they 
lead such a pace, was, because they hoped that I would 
give them some consideration to be carryed in a chaire 
to the toppe, rather then I would leese their company, 
and so consequently my way also, which is almost impos 
sible for a stranger to finde alone by himselfe, by reason 
of the innumerable turnings and windings thereof, being 
on every side beset with infinite abundance of trees. So 
that at last finding that faintnesse in my selfe that I was 
not able to follow them any longer, though I would even 
breake my hart with striving, I compounded with them 
[p. 70.] for a cardakew, which is eighteene pence English, to be 
Slender hire, carryed to the toppe of the Mountaine, which was at the 
least half a mile from the place where I mounted on the 
chaire. This was the manner of their carrying of me : 
They did put two slender poles through certaine woodden 
rings, which were at the foure corners of the chaire, and 
so carried me on their shoulders sitting in the chaire, 
one before, and another behinde : but such was the 
miserable paines that the poore slaves willingly under- 
tooke : for the gaine of that cardakew, that I would not 



have done the like for five hundred. The wayes were 
exceeding difficult in regard of the steepnesse and hard- Difficult 
nesse thereof, for they were al rocky, petricosas & -^ 
salebrosae, and so uneven that a man could hardly find 
any sure footing on them. When I had tandem 
aliquando gotten up to the toppe, I said to my selfe 
with ^Eneas in Virgil : 

Forsan & haec olim meminisse juvabit. 

then might I justly and truly say, that which I could 
never before, that I was above some of the clowdes. 
For though that mountain be not by the sixth part so high 
as some others of them : yet certainely it was a great 
way above some of the clowdes. For I saw many of them 
very plainly on the sides of the Mountaine beneath me. 

I mounted on my horse againe about one of the clock 
at the foote of the Mountaine, on the other side towards 


Chambery, so that I was about three houre.s going 
betwixt the two feete on both sides, being but two miles 
distant. From the place where I mounted my horse I 
had two miles to Chambery, and came thither about two 
of the clocke in the afternoone. 

Chambery which is called in Latin Camberinum, is Chambery. 
the capitall City of Savoy, wherein they keep their 
Parliament. It is seated in a plaine, and is but little, 
yet walled, and having certain convenient gates. Many 
of their houses are built with faire free stone. Therein 
is a strong Castle which seemeth to be of great antiquity. 
Here was wont to be kept a very auncient and religious 
relique, the shroud wherein our Saviours blessed body [p. 71.] 
was wrapped (as they report) when it was put into the 
Sepulchre ; but within these few years it was removed 
to Turin in Piemont, where upon speciall days it is 
shewed with great ceremonies. One thing I observed 
in this towne that I never saw before, much of their tile Tiles of Wood. 
wherewith they cover their Churches and houses is made 
of woodde. Here is a Jesuitical Colledge as in Lyons : 
Their windows are made of paper in many places of the 



City as in Lyons. Here came Nunnes to our chamber 
to begge money of us as in Lyons. 

People called The people of this Country which are now called 
Sabaudi. Sabaudi, were heretofore called Allobroges, from a certain 
King whose name was Allobrox. The Metropolitan 
City that they inhabited was Vienna, which is situate by 
the River Rhodanus. The word Sabaudia is derived 
either from Savona alias Sabatia (as that singular learned 
man Caspar Peucerus 1 writeth) a town of Liguria in 
Italic, the country of Pope Julius the second, which 
lyeth betwixt Genua and Nicena ; or from the Sabatii, 
certain auncient people that inhabited the Alpes. These 
Sabaudi do now inhabite that country, which in times 
past belonged to sundry people, as the Voconii, Veragri, 
Caturiges, Centrones, and Lepontii. Savoy was here 
tofore but an Earledome (as 2 Munster affirmeth) the 
Earle thereof being one of the foure of the Roman 
Empire. But at the time of the Councell of Constance, 
which was celebrated Anno 1415, the Emperour Sigis- 
Savoy a mundus converted it to a Dukedome, and made Amadeus 
Dukedom. (who was afterwards at the Councell of Basil elected 
Pope by the name of Fcelix the fifth) the first Duke 
thereof, who was the sonne of Aymon the last Earle. 
There was another Duke also of that name of the 
Amadei, which was the Nephew of this first Amadeus, 
of whom 3 Munster writeth a most memorable history, 
that being once demanded of certaine Orators that came 
[p. 72.] unto him, whether he had any hounds to hunt withal, 
he desired them to come to him the next day, and when 
they came he shewed them out of his gallery a great 
Multitude of multitude of beggars in one side of his house sitting 
Beggars. together at meat, & said loe, these are my hounds that 
I feede every day, with whom I hope to hunt for the 
glory and joys of heaven. 

I rod from Chambery about sixe of the clocke in the 
morning, the ninth day of June being Thursday, and 

1 Chronicorum Carionis, libro 5. fol. 843. 

2 Lib. 2. Cosmographias. 3 Lib. 2. Cosmographiae. 



dined at a place called Aiguebelle whither I came by 

noone being ten miles from Chambery. Betwixt these 

two places I observed many notable things : About six 

miles beyond Chambery I passed by a marvailous strong A marvellous 

and impregnable Castle at a towne called Montmelian. stron s 

It is built wholly upon a rocke, and is of a very great 

circuit about, having store of Ordinance planted about 

every wall thereof. Surely the situation of it is so 

strong by reason of the rocke, that I doe not remember 

I ever saw the like. There we could not passe without 

paying some little summe of money, which all strangers 

doe in that place. 

In all the way betwixt Chambery and Aiguebelle, I 
saw infinite abundance of vineyardes planted at the foot Infinite Store 
of the Alpes, in both sides of the way, so great store 
there was that I doe not remember I saw halfe the plenty 
in any part of all France in so short a space, no where it 
was most plentifull as about Nevers. For the abundance 
here was so great that for the space of ten whole miles 
together, a man could not perceive any vacant or wast 
place under the Alpes, but all beset with vines : in so 
much that I thinke the number of these vineyardes on 
both sides of the Alpes, was not so little as foure 
thousand. I admired one thing very much in those 
vineyards, that they should be planted in such wonderfull 
steepe places underneath the hils, where a man would 
thinke it were almost impossible for a labourer to worke, 
such is the praecipitium of the hill towards the descent. 
Also I observed a great multitude of wine houses in [p. 73.] 
these vineyardes, so that many of them had their severall 
and proper wine houses belonging to it. Which wine 
houses doe serve for pressing of their grapes, and the 
making of their wine, having all things necessary therein 
for that purpose, as their wine presses which are called in 
Latin torcularia, &c. 

In many places also I saw goodly corne fields, especially Goodly com 
of Rie, whereof many thousand plottes I observed before fields. 
I went forth of the Alpes, growing upon as steepe places 



as the Vineyards did : whereat I much wondred at the 
first, because I could not a long time conceive how it was 
possible that they should bring their Ploughs so high to 
turne the ground. At last after some serious considera 
tion of the matter, I imagined that they did set their 
Corn set with corne with their hands, according as we have done in 
the hand. some few places of England within these ten yeares, as 
in sundry places of Middlesex, of the benefite and com 
modity wherof there was a booke divulged in Print not 
many years since. The reason which induced me this 
consideration, was, because I saw an innumerable company 
of little plots of corne, not much bigger then little beds 
(as we call them in England) in our English Gardens, in 
Latin Arcolae. Which little plots I thought they could 
not otherwise sow, but by putting in the corne by peece- 
meale into the earth with their fingers, especially being 
of such heigth under the very tops of the mountaines, 
that I should be unwilling to go thither for an hundred 
crownes, much lesse to carry an Oxe or an Horse with 
me to plough the ground. 

fine In many places of Savoy I saw many fine and pleasant 

Meadows. meadowes, especially in some places betwixt Chambery 

and Aiguebelle on the left hand under the Alpes, which 

is a thing very rare to be seene in divers places of this 


The worst wayes that ever I travelled in all my life in 

LP- 74] the Sommer were those betwixt Chamberie and Aigue- 

Bad Ways. belle, which were as bad as the worst I ever rode in 

England in the midst of Winter : insomuch that the 

wayes of Savoy may be proverbially spoken of as the 

Owles of Athens, the peares of Calabria, and the Quailes 

of Delos. 

I saw many chestnut-trees and walnut-trees in Savoy, 
and pretty store of hempe. 

I commended Savoy a pretty while for the best place 
that ever I saw in my life, for abundance of pleasant 
springs, descending from the mountaines, till at the last 
I considered the cause of those springs. For they are 



not fresh springs, as I conjectured at the first, but onely 

little torrents of snow water, which distilleth from the Snow Water. 

toppe of those mountaines, when the snow by the heate 

of the sunne is dissolved into water. Of those torrents 

I thinke I saw at the least a thousand betwixt the foote 

of the ascent of the mountaine Aiguebelette and Nova- 

laise in Piemont, at the descent of the mountaine Senis ; 

which places are sixty two miles asunder. 

The swiftest and violentest lake that ever I saw, is A Violent 
that which runneth through Savoy, called Lezere, which Lake. 
is much swifter then the Rhodanus at Lyons, that by 
the Poets is called Rapidissimus amnis. For this is so 
extreme swift, that no fish can possibly live in it, by 
reason that it will be carried away by the most violent 
fource of the torrent, and dashed against huge stones 
which are in most places of the lake. Yea there are 
many thousand stones in that lake much bigger then 
the stones of Stoneage by the towne of Amesbury in Huge Stones. 
Wilt-shire, or the exceeding great stone upon Hamdon 
hill in Somerset-shire, so famous for the quarre, which 
is within a mile of the Parish of Odcombe my dear 
natalitiall place. These stones fell into this River, being 
broken from the high Rockes of the Alpes, which are on 
both sides of it. The cause of the extraordinary swiftness [p. 75.] 
of this lake, is, the continuall fluxe of the snow water 
descending from those mountaines, which doth augment 
and multiplie the lake in a thousand places. There is 
another thing also to be observed in this lake, the horrible Horrible 
and hideous noyse thereof. For I thinke it keepeth 
almost as terrible a noyse as the river Cocytus in hell, 
which the Poets doe extoll for the murmuring thereof, 
as having his name Cocytus from the olde Greeke word 
KftMnW, which signifieth to keepe a noyse. 

I travelled many miles in Savoy before I could see any 
snow upon the mountaines, but when I came something 
near Aigubelle I saw great abundance almost upon every 

The Alpes after I had once descended from the 



mountaine Aiguebelette, towards Chambery inclosed me 
on every side like two walles till I was past mount Senis, 
even for the space of sixty miles. 

I saw many flockes of Goats in Savoy, which they 
penne at night in certaine low roomes under their 
dwelling houses. 

Abundance of On every Alpe I saw wonderfull abundance of pine 
Trees. trees, especially about the toppe, and many of them of 

a very great heigth ; and betwixt the toppe and the 
foote there are in many of those mountains wilde Olive 
trees, Chesnut-trees, Walnut-trees, Beeches, Hasel trees, 
&c. The whole side of many a hill being replenished 
with all these sorts of trees. 

Dangerous It seemeth very dangerous in divers places to travel 

Travelling. unc j er the rocky mountains, because many of them are 

cloven and do seeme at the very instant that a man is 

under them minari ruinam ; and by so much the more 

fearefull a man may be, by how much the more he may 

see great multitudes of those stones fallen downe in 

[p. 76.] divers places by the river, and the side of the way from 

the mountains themselves, & many of them foure or 

five times greater then the great stone of Hamdon hill 

before mentioned. 

The feete of the Alpes that are opposite to each other 
are distant one from another (the violent lake Lezere, 
whereof I have already spoken, running in the midst 
betweene them) in some places halfe a mile, or something 
more, but scarce a whole mile : and in some places they 
are so neare together, that they are but little more then 
a Butte-length asunder. 

Such is the heigth of many of these mountaines, that 
I thinke I saw at the least two hundred of them that 
were farre above some of the cloudes. 

Savoy very The countrey of Savoy is very cold, and much subject 

Cold - to raine, by reason of those cloudes, that are continually 

hovering about the Alpes, which being the receptacles of 

raine do there more distill their moisture, then in other 




I observed an admirable abundance of Butter-flies in Great Swarms 
many places of Savoy, by the hundreth part more then rf Butterflies. 
ever I saw in any countrey before, whereof many great 
swarmes, which were (according to my estimation and 
conjecture) at the least two thousand, lay dead upon the 
high waies as we travelled. 

When I came to Aigubelle I saw the effect of the 
common drinking of snow water in Savoy. For there 
I saw many men and women have exceeding great 
bunches or swellings in their throates, such as we call Strange 
in latin strumas, as bigge as the fistes of a man, through Swe " ln S s - 
the drinking of snow water, yea some of their bunches 
are almost as great as an ordinary foote-ball with us in 
England. These swellings are much to be scene amongst 
these Savoyards, neyther are all the Pedemontanes free 
from them. 

I rode from Aigubelle about two of the clocke in the 
afternoone, and came to a place called la Chambre, which La Chambre. 
is eight miles beyond it, about nine of the clocke in the 
evening : this was the ninth day of June being Thursday. 
Betwixt Aigubelle and la Chambre, I observed no extra 
ordinary matter, but such as before in Savoy. [p. 77.] 

I departed from la Chambre about sixe of the clocke 
in the morning, the tenth of June being Friday, and 
came to a parish called S Andre, which was fourteene S. Andre. 
miles from it, about noone. I remember a wondrous 
high mountaine, about a mile beyond la Chambre, at 
the top whereof there is an exceeding high rocke : this 
was on the left hand of my way. 

Also another about two miles beyond that which is 
covered with snow. This is of a most excessive and 
stupendious heigth. 

At a towne called St. Jean de Morienne, which is St. Jean de 
about six miles beyond la Chambre, I saw a goodly 
schoole and a great multitude of schollers in it. The 
Parish Church is a pretty thing, having a faire steeple. 

I saw a very auncient and strong Castle, but it was 
very little about a few miles beyond la Chambre, built 



on the toppe of a rocke, on the left hand of the way : 
which perhaps was built in the time of the Roman 
Monarchy, as the like were in Rhetia, of which I shal 
hereafter make relation. 

I rode from S. Andre about halfe an houre after three 
of the clocke in the afternoone, and came to a place 

Lanskbourg. fourteene miles therehence, called Lasnebourg, about nine 
of the clocke in the evening. 

Exceeding is the abundance of woodden crosses in 
Savoy, and a marvailous multitude of little Chappels, 
with the picture of Christ and the Virgin Mary, and 
many other religious persons, wherein I did oftentimes 
see some at their devotion. 

Bridges made I observed a great multitude of poore woodden-bridges 

of beech trees, over al Savoy, which were made only of beech trees, that 
were cut down from the sides of the Alpes. Some few 
stony bridges I saw also pretily vaulted with an arch or 
two. These bridges are the necessariest things of all 
Savoy. For without them they that are on one side of 
the river, cannot possibly get over to the other side, by 
reason that the violence of the lake is so great, that it 
will carry away both man and beast that commeth within 

I noted one thing about sixe or seven miles before I 
came to Lasnebourg that is not to be omitted. The 
waies on the sides of the mountaines whereon I rode 

High Ways, were so exceeding high, that if my horse had happened 
to stumble, he had fallen downe with me foure or five 
times as deepe in some places as Paules tower in London 
is high. Therefore I very providently preventing the 
worst dismounted from my horse, and lead him in my 
hand for the space of a mile and halfe at the least, though 
my company too adventurously rod on, fearing nothing. 
In Lasnebourg which was the last towne of Savoy that 
I lodged in, situate under the foote of that exceeding 
high mountaine Senis, I observed these three things. 
First the shortnesse of the womens wastes not naturally 
but artificially. For all women both of that towne and 


. 78.] 


all other places besides betwixt that and Novalaise a Quaint attire. 
towne of Piemont, at the descent of the mountaine Senys 
on the other side, some twelve miles off, did gird them 
selves so high that the distance betwixt their shoulders 
and their girdle seemed to be but a little handfull. 
Secondly, the heigth of their beds : for they were so high High beds. 
that a man could hardly get into his bedde without some 
kinde of climing, so that a man needed a ladder to get 
up as we say here in England. Thirdly, the strangenesse 
and quaintnesse of the womens head attire. For they 
wrappe and fold together after a very unseemly fashion, 
almost as much linnen upon their heads as the Turkes 
doe in those linnen caps they weare, which are called 

I went from Lasnebourg upon the eleventh day of 
June being Saturday, about seven of the clocke in the 
morning, and ascended the mountain Senys, and came Mount Cenis. 
about one of the clocke in the afternoone to a towne in 
Piemont called Novalaise at the foote of the descent of 
the mount Senys, which is twelve miles from Lasnebourg : [p. 79.] 
there Savoy and Piemont meete. In all that distance 
betwixt Calais and this town of Novalaise we accounted 
all our way by leagues, whereof some are two miles, and 
some two miles and halfe. But from Novalaise to Venice 
beganne our computation of miles, which is generally 
used throughout all Italy. 

All this tract of the Alpes about Mount Senys was 
heretofore called Alpes Coctiae, from a certaine King 
Coctius, that vanquished the auncient Gaules, and was 
afterwards received into friendship of Augustus Caesar. 

I observed an exceeding high mountaine betwixt 
Lasnebourg and Novalaise, much higher then any that 
I saw before called Roch Melow : it is said to be the Rock Melon 
highest mountaine of all the Alpes, saving one of those fourteen miles 
that part Italy and Germany. Some told me it was 
fourteene miles high : it is covered with a very Micro- 
cosme of clowdes. Of this mountaine there is no more 
then a little peece of the toppe to be scene, which seemeth 
c. c. 225 p 


a farre off to be three or foure little turrets or steeples in 
A pretty the aire. I have heard a prety history concerning this 
history. moun t ame w hich was this. A certain fellow that had 
beene a notorious robber and a very enormous liver, 
being touched with some remorse of conscience for his 
licentious and ungodly life, got him two religious pictures, 
one of Christ, and another of the Virgin Mary, which 
he carryed a long time about with him, vowing to spend 
the remainder of his life in fasting and prayer, for expia 
tion of his offences to God, upon the highest mountaine 
of all the Alpes. Whereupon he went up to a certaine 
mountaine that in his opinion was the highest of all the 
Alpine hils, carrying those two pictures with him, and 
resolving there to end his life. After he had spent some 
little time there, two pictures more of Christ and our 
Lady appeared to him, whereby he gathered (but by what 
[p. 80.] reason induced I know not) that he had not chosen that 
mountaine which was the highest of all ; so that he 
wandred a great while about til he found a higher which 
was this, unto the toppe whereof he went with his pictures, 
where he spent the residue of his life in contemplation, 
and never came downe more. My authour of this tale 
or figment (for indeede so I account it and no otherwise) 
is our *Maron of Turin who horsed our company from 
Lyons to Turin, and told us this upon the way. 
Tedious The descent of the mountaine I found more wearysome 
Descent. an d tedious then the ascent. For I rode all the way up 
being assisted with my guide of Lasnebourg, but downe 
I was constrained to walke a foote for the space of seven 
miles. For so much it is betwixt the top and the foote 
of the mountaine : in all which space I continually 
descended headlong. The waies were exceeding uneasie. 
For they were wonderfull hard, all stony and full of 
windings and intricate turnings, whereof I thinke there 
were at the least two hundred before I came to the foot. 
Stil I met many people ascending, and mules laden with 
carriage, and a great company of dunne kine driven up 

* That is a guide or conductor. 


the hill with collars about their neckes : in those waies I 

found many stones wherein I plainly perceived the mettall Tin Metal. 

of tinne, whereof I saw a great multitude. One of them 

I tooke up in my hand, intending to carry it home into 

England, but one of my company to whom I delivered 

it to keepe for me, lost it. 

The end of my observations of Savoy. 

My observations of Italy. 

I Rode from Novalaise about three of the clocke in the 
afternoone the foresaid day, and came to St. Georges St. Georges. 
a towne of Piemont, five miles therehence about sixe of 
the clocke in the evening. Betwixt these places I [p. 81.] 
observed nothing but only one towne called Susa, here 
tofore Segusium, which is a very fine little towne well 
seated, walled, having faire Churches in it, and a very 
goodly strong Castle well planted with Ordinance. I 
only passed by the towne, but went not into it. At the 
townes end certain searchers examined us for money, A custom of 
according to a custome that is used in many other townes Italy. 
and Cities of Italy. For if a man doth carry more money 
about him then is warranted or allowed in the country, 
it is ipso facto confiscated to the Prince or Magistrate, 
in whose territory a man is taken. 

I rode from St. Georges about seven of the clocke in 
the morning on Sunday, being the twelfth day of June, 
and came about twelve of the clocke to a town in Piemont 
called Rivole, which is nineteen miles therehence. My Rivoti. 
observations betwixt St. Georges and Rivole are these. 
At St. Georges I saw two severall Castles built on a rocke, 
which are so near together, that they are even contigu 
ous : I wondred to what purpose they built two Castles 
so near. About sixe miles beyond Saint Georges, I saw 
a very memorable and admirable thing, if that be true 
which is reported of it. Rowland one of the twelve 
Peeres of France, and the sisters sonne of Charlemaine 
(of whose fortitude and prowesse there is mention in 



Delicate Hats 
of Straw. 

[p. 82.] 

A memorable many of the auncient French historians) did cleave an 

thing. exceeding hard stone in the middest, of a foote and halfe 

thicke, with his sword, which stone is there shewed as 
a monument of his puissance, and his picture in the wall 
hard by the stone on horse-backe brandishing his sword. 

I saw the Monastery of S. Michael built upon the top 
of an exceeding high rocky hill, on the right hand of the 
way about some twelve miles beyond St. Georges : there 
are Monkes now living, as I heard some say. 

In many places of Piemont I observed most delicate 
strawen hats, which both men and women use in most 
places of that Province, but especially the women. For 
those that the women weare are very prety, some of them 
having at the least an hundred seames made with silke, 
and some pretily woven in the seames with silver, and 
many flowers, borders, and branches very curiously 
wrought in them, in so much that some of them were 
valued at two duckatons, that is, eleven shillings. 

I rod from Rivole about three of the clocke in the 
afternoone that Sunday, and came to Turin which was 
foure miles beyond it, about five of the clocke. I 
observed these things betwixt Rivole and Turin. That 
day being the twelfth of June, I saw Rie reaped a little 
on this side Turin, which is about sixe weeks sooner then 
we use to reape it in England. I saw infinite abundance 
of wallnut-trees in that part of Piemont, and wonderfull 
plenty of corne, especially Rie, and a marvailous even- 
nesse and plainenesse of the ground for a great space, and 
store of vines that grow not so low as in France, but 
upon high poles or railes, a great deale higher from the 

There rod in our company a merry Italian one Antonio, 
that vaunted he was lineally descended from the famous 
Marcus Antonius of Rome the Triumvir, and would 
oftentimes cheer us with his sociable conceit : Courage, 

The Devil is courage, le Diable est mort. That is, be merry, for the 

dead. Devill is dead. 





My observations of Turin. 

Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written this Octostichon 

upon Turin. 

Xcipiens gelidas patriis ex Alpibus auras 

Hesperii princeps jus capit una soli. 
Terra ferax, gens laeta, hilaris addicta choreis ; 

Nil curans quicquid crastina luna vehat. 
Ingenium natura aptum, sed more solutum, 

Plus animo capiens, quam dare possit ope. 
Felix Marte novo, felix melioribus armis, 
Namque recens acuet pectora lenta metus. 

I am sory I can speake so little of so flourishing and 
beautifull a Citie. For during that little time that I 
was in the citie, I found so great a distemperature in my 
body, by drinking the sweete wines of Piemont, that 
caused a grievous inflammation in my face and hands ; 
so that I had but a smal desire to walke much abroad in 
the streets. Therefore I would advise all English-men 
that intend to travell into Italy, to mingle their wine 
with water as soone as they come into the country, for 
feare of ensuing inconveniences, and let them follow the 
good counsell that learned Alciat giveth in his Epigram 
upon the statue of Bacchus, 

Quadrantem addat aquae, calicem sumpsisse falerni 
Qui cupit, hoc sumi pocula more juvat. 

and that most excellent rule of Meleager in his Epigram 
upon wine, out of the first booke of the Anthologion 
of Epigrams, page 82. 

TovveKa crvS NfjWc^at? /Spo/uto? (piXos, ei $e viv elpyqs 
/j.i(T<yeai oefy TTVO eTi Kaio/u.evov. 

Surely I observed it to be a faire city, having many stately 
buildings, both publique and private : it is the capitall 
citie of Piemont, situate in a plaine, being in the East 
incompassed with hils, well walled, and hath foure faire 
gates, and a very strong citadel at the west end, exceeding 


Scaliger s 
verses upon 

[P- 83-] 

Sweet wine to 
be mingled 
with water. 

Turin a fair 



well furnished with munition, wherein there are five 
hundred peeces of Ordinance. This citie is built all 
with bricke, and is of a square forme. The river Duria 
runneth by it, and about a mile from the citie the famous 
river Padus, which the Grecians called Eridanus, but the 

The rwer Po. Italians at this day the Po. It is called Padus from the 
French word Pade (as Munster writeth) which signifieth 
a pitch tree, because store of them doe grow about the 

[p. 84.] spring of the River, which is in the mountain Vesulus in 
Liguria : it disgorgeth it self at length into the gulfe of 
Venice, with six great mouthes, being first augmented 
with thirty rivers that spring partly out of the Apennine 
mountaines, and partly out of the Alpes. Many do travel 
downe this river from Turin to Venice all by water, and 
so save the travelling of two hundred and twenty seven 
miles by land. For the young Prince of Savoy with all 
his traine travelled to Venice down the Po when I was 
at Turin. Heretofore this citie was called Augusta 
Taurinorum, as many other noble cities have been called 
by the name of Augusta : as Ratisbona in Bavaria 
Augusta Tiberii, Curia in Rhetia Augusta Rhetorum, 
Augusta Emerita in Portugall : but now there is one 
onely Augusta, famous in Christendome, which is that 
most renowned citie of Augusta Vindelicorum in high 
Germany. This citie was a Colony of the Romanes, by 
whom it was a long time inhabited. It received great 

Turin sacked hurt in times past by the barbarous Gothes, who grievously 

by the Goths, sacked and wasted it with fire and sword : but being 
afterwards reedified, it was inhabited for the space of 
many years by the Longobardes, who bare the sway of it 
till their dominion in Italy was abrogated by Carolus 
Magnus. After that it came into the hands of the Kings 
of Italy, the Marquesses of Monsferratus, & lastly the 
Dukes of Savoy, who keepe their residence and Court 
there, having gotten so great power in Piemont, that 
they now stile themselves Princes thereof. Near to this 
citie there was fought that great battell betwixt Charles 
the fift and Francis the first of that name, King of France, 



Anno 1544, wherein twelve thousand of the Imperialists A great battle 
were slaine, and all the rest were eyther taken prisoners, %?&. near 

,,.,., i i Turin. 

or having redeemed their liberty sent home into their 

countrey without armes. The present Duke of Savoy 

that keepeth his Court here is called Charles Emanuel, 

unto whom there were two Cardinals sent Ambassadors 

when I was there, whereof one was Cardinal Aldobrandino [p. 85.] 

a Florentine, and sent from the Pope ; the other a 

Spaniard sent from the King of Spaine. For there is 

great amity and affinity betwixt the King of Spaine and 

the Duke of Savoy, by reason that the Duke married the 

Kings sister Margarita, which is dead, but he had some 

children by her, as a Prince which is living, and certaine 

daughters, whereof one was married to the Duke of 

Modena, heretofore called Mutina ; near to which citie 

the armies of Augustus Caesar and Marcus Antonius 

fought. And another about some two moneths before 

I came to Turin was married to Francis Gonzaga Prince 

of Mantua, and son to Vincentius Gonzaga the present 

Duke. The Dukes Palace seemeth to be faire, but I The Dukis 

was not in it, onely I saw it without. He hath lately Pa ^ ace - 

built a very goodly gallery, a work of notable magnificence 

near the Palace. For it is of a very stately height, and 

built all with white stone : Truely it is incomparably the 

fairest that ever I saw saving the King of Frances at the 

Loure in Paris. One of those Cardinals was very 

pompously and magnificently attended. For seven or 

eight stately Carochs of great personages attended at his 

Palace dore, to accompany him as he rode abroad in the 

evening to take the ayre. Also he was very royally 

attended with a brave guard of the Dukes Switzers, who 

at that time flanted it in very rich apparell, costly decked 

with gold and silver lace. 

I was at the Cathedrall Church, which is called St. Cathedral 
Johns, wherein are many antiquities : in the Quire there 
is a very stately Tabernacle above the high Altar, 
supported with foure sumptuous pillars very richly gilt. 
Also a goodly Pulpit in the Quire, and a very faire seate 



on high at the north side of the Church for the Duke 
to sit in, when he heareth the Sermon. This Latin 
poesie is written on the wall on the right hand of the 
Church as you go in near to an Altar, Assentatio gratiam, 
veritas odium, & foemineae illecebras iniquitatem. In this 
[p. 86.] citie is kept the Chancery of all Piemont. Also it is the 
seat of an Archbishop, having been first an Episcopall 
citie before it was graced with the dignity of an Arch- 
The Bishops bishopricke. Of their Bishops I have read of one that 
of Turin. flourished here about the year of our Lord 420, that was 
a man of great fame and learning, one Maximus, whose 
manifold writings are recited by John Trithemius that 
learned Germane Abbot in his Catalogue of Ecclesiasticall 
writers. Besides, it is beautified with an University 
which did heretofore flourish, especially for the study 
of the civil law and physicke but now Divinity also is 
greatly professed there since the Jesuites have erected a 
Colledge in it, who I thinke will never so grace and 
adorne this citie with their Jesuiticall Divinity as that 
famous man Caelius Secundus Curio who was born herein : 
an d though at the first he was brought up in the Papisticall 
Religion, yet at last when God had once illuminated his 
understanding with the spirite of truth, hee abandoned 
his countrey for religion sake, and went into Germany, 
where he embraced the reformed religion, and ever after 
in the University of Basil (where he lived and died) 
most constantly professed it to his death. I could not 
but mention this ornament of learning in this Discourse 
of Turin, which was his native countrey, because I doe 
much reverence the memory of so famous a man, that 
with the excellent monuments of his wit, I mean his 
learned bookes (whereof some I have read, and wherewith 
he hath purchased himselfe immortality of name) hath 
much benefited the Common-weale of good letters. 

Thus much of Turin. 



I Rode in Coach from Turin on Munday, being the 
thirteenth day of June about two of the clocke in 
the afternoone, and came to a Parish called Sian in 
Piemont about half an houre after eight of the clocke [p- 8 7-] 
in the evening. This Sian was twenty miles beyond 
Turin. My observations betwixt Turin and Sian were 
these : I saw many goodly spacious grounds beyond 
Turin, wonderfully replenished with corne, Vineyards, 
Orchards, and a singular exuberancy of all manner of fruits. 

The Vineyards in Piemont and Lombardy doe much Growth of 
differ in growth from the French Vineyards. For the v ines in 
Vines in most of these places doe grow upon trees that 
are very orderly set in fine rankes about halfe a mile or 
a mile long in some places. Betwixt these rankes or 
rowes, which in some places are distant about a But- 
length or two asunder, there grow many necessary 
commodities, as corne or some kinde of fruites. Most 
of those trees whereon the grapes doe grow are Maples ; 
in some places Wai-nut-trees, and in others Willow trees 
and Elmes. Also on both sides of these trees there are 
set certaine pretty stakes in the earth to support the 
Vines, that they may the more extend their branches in 
length : These stakes are set out of the maine ranke of 
trees. Againe the stakes are fastened in the ground in 
the very ranke itselfe betwixt tree and tree ; so that 
the greatest part of the grapes doe grow about these 
stakes, and few on the tree. Many thousands of these 
vines I have scene grow so high, that they have sprowted 
cleane above the toppe of the tree. 

Betwixt Turin and Sian I was transported over a A Ferry 
Ferrie. This Italian transporting was done after a driven by a 
pretty manner. For whereas there is a great long rope 
that reacheth over the river, tied by certaine instruments 
on both sides thereof, assoone as the horses and 
passengers are put into the boat, one of the boatmen 
that tarryeth at land turned a certaine wheele about by 
meanes of that rope, by the motion of which wheele 
the boat is driven on to the other banke. 



Betwixt Turin and Sian I saw a strange kinde of corne 

[p. 88.] that I never saw before ; but I have read of it. It is 

Panic, called Panicke. It groweth like an hearbe, and is as 

greene as a leeke, having very long and broad leaves. 

The graine of it is almost as great as a beane : poore 

folkes do make most of their bread with it, and quailes 

are much fedde with it. I saw great abundance of this 

Panicke grow in many places of Italy both in Piemont 

and Lombardie. 

I observed that many of their women and children goe 

onely in their smockes and shirts in divers places of the 

countrey without any other apparrell at all by reason of 

Extreme the extreme heat of the clymate ; and many of their 

Heat. children which doe weare breeches, have them so made, 

that all the hinder parts of their bodies are naked, for the 

more coolenesse of the ayre. 

I rod from Sian about foure of the clocke in the 

morning, the fourteenth day of June being Tuesday, and 

Vercelli. came to a faire City in Piemont called Vercellis, which 

is eighteene miles from Sian, betwixt ten and eleven of 

O * 

the clocke. This fourteenth day of June was S. John 
Baptists day in Italy, according to the new stile, which 
is never with us in England before the foure and 
twentieth of June. This day is very solemnely kept in 
all the Cities, Townes, and Parishes of Italy, but in some 
of the greater Cities as Rome, Venice, Naples, Millan, 
Florence, &c. it is celebrated with very pompous and 
sumptuous solemnity. These shewes I then observed in 
Vercellis. At the comming in of the City without the 
west gate there was erected a faire bower covered with 
green boughs newly cut, under the which there stood a 
cupboord furnished with the pictures of Christ and our 
Lady, and with great abundance of exceeding costly plate. 
Also I saw a Procession that the Priests solemnized in 
the streets after that manner as in Paris upon Corpus 
Christi day, accompanied with many singing boyes, and 
men before them in surplices with burning tapers in 
[p. 89.] their hands, and a great multitude of women and children 


Solemnity on 
S. John 
Baptisi sDay. 


behinde, which carryed burning tapers also : they went 
all in couples very orderly. But I never saw in all my 
life such an ugly company of truls and sluts, as their 
women were. Withall there was an exceeding shooting 
of squibs in every street where the Procession passed. 

This City of Vercellis is well situate in a plaine, by 
the which there runneth a faire commodious river, called The River 
in Latin Ticinus, in the Italian Tesino, which runneth Ticino. 
to the City of Pavie, wherehence that City both in 
former times hath beene called, and now is Ticinum : it 
issueth out of the high mountaine Goddard, which is 
one of the Rhetical Alpes that divide Italy and Germany. 
It is well walled and hath many faire streets through 
which divers rivers doe runne, with many stupples to 
passe over from one side of the street to the other as in 

This City received much harme by Autharus the third Lombard 
King of the Longobardes, in the time of the Emperour Tyrants. 
Mauricius, about the year 586, who by reason that the 
Prefect thereof Dotrula, which was one of the thirty 
Longobardical tyrants, revolted to Smaragdus the second 
Exarche of Ravenna ; committed such spoile in Vercellis, 
that he defaced more then halfe the City, and demolished 
the wals round about the same, which he made even with 
the ground also. 

Neare to this City was that memorable overthrow of A memorable 
Desiderius the twentieth and last King of the Longo- overthrow. 
bards, so famoused by many classical historiographers. 
For Carolus Magnus being sollicited by Adrian the 
Pope, who had received some wrongs of Desiderius, to 
come into Italy, and defend him against the Longobardes, 
passed over the Alpes and with a great army confronted 
them at Vercellis, where he did put their King to flight, 
& having afterward taken him Prisoner in Pavie which 
was the principall City, wherein the Kings of the Longo 
bardes kept their Court, he sent him captive to Liege 
a goodly City in the Netherlands, where he dyed in Exile, [p. 90.] 
So this was the end of the Longobardicall Kingdom in 



Italy, which continued two hundred and four yeares from 
Alboinus their first King. 

I observed a custome in many Townes and Cities of 

Italy, which did not a little displease me, that most of 

their best meats which come to the table are sprinkled 

Meat w ith cheese, which I love not so well as the Welchmen 

sprinkled with j oe ^ wnere by i was oftentimes constrained to leese my 

share of much good fare to my great discontentment. 

In most of their Innes they have white cannopies 
and curtains, made of needle work, which are edged with 
very faire bone-lace. 

Here I wil mention a thing that might have been 
spoken of before in discourse of the first Italian towne. 
I observed a custome in all those Italian Cities and Townes 
through the which I passed, that is not used in any other 
country that I saw in my travels, neither doe I thinke 
that any other nation of Christendome doth use it, but 
only Italy. The Italian and also most strangers that are 
commorant in Italy, doe alwaies at their meales use a little 
Forks used in forke when they cut their meat. For while with their 
feeding. knife which they hold in one hand they cut the meate 

out of the dish, they fasten their forke which they hold 
in their other hand upon the same dish, so that whatsoever 
he be that sitting in the company of any others at meale, 
should unadvisedly touch the dish of meate with his 
fingers from which all at the table doe cut, he will give 
occasion of offence unto the company, as having trans 
gressed the lawes of good manners, in so much that for 
his error he shall be at the least brow-beaten, if not 
reprehended in wordes. This forme of feeding I under 
stand is generally used in all places of Italy, their forkes 
being for the most part made of yron or steele, and 
some of silver, but those are used only by Gentlemen. 
The reason of this their curiosity is, because the Italian 
[p. 91.] cannot by any means indure to have his dish touched 
with fingers, seing all mens fingers are not alike cleane. 
Hereupon I my selfe thought good to imitate the Italian 
fashion by this forked cutting of meate, not only while 



I was in Italy, but also in Germany, and oftentimes in 
England since I came home : being once quipped for 
that frequent using of my forke, by a certain learned 
Gentleman, a familiar friend of mine, one M. Laurence 
Whitaker, who in his merry humour doubted not to call 
me at table furcifer, only for using a forke at feeding, 
but for no other cause. 

I rod from Vercellis about two of the clocke in the 
afternoone on S. John Baptists day, and came to a towne 
called Buffolero in Lombardy, twenty miles therehence, Bufolero. 
about halfe an houre after eight of the clocke in the 

Here I hold it fit to speake a little of the name of 
Lombardy, and the fertility thereof. We reade in 
histories that the Longobardes, whose first habitation Lombards 
was in a part of Saxony about the confluent of the rivers first habitation 
Sala and Albis, being exceedingly multiplied in their owne in Saxon y- 
country, transmigrated into a bordering Island called 
Rugia, which now belongeth to the Marquesse of 
Brandenburg. But because the same was not able to 
maintaine them all by reason of the great increase of 
their families, they resolved to goe into some more fertile 
country, and so after long travel! they came into Pannonia, 
where having lived about two and forty years, they were 
invited into Italy by Narses the Eunuch upon this 
occasion. The Emperesse Sophia wife to the Emperour The Empress 
Justinus the second, being offended with Narses for that Sophia. 
he was accused to the Emperour for his tyrannicall and 
unjust dealing with the Italians, over whom he had then 
great authority, sent him word that he must come home 
to attend spinning women, and to deliver wooll and flaxe 
to them, seing he was fitter for such a purpose, because [p- 92-] 
he was an Eunuch, then to beare such sway in Italy as 
he did. Narses being grievously exasperated with this 
bitter scoffe sent back the Emperesse this message, that 
seing shee would needs employ him about spinning, he 
would spinne such a threade as she should never be able 
to untwist while shee lived ; whereupon incontinently 



he sent Ambassadors from Naples to the Longobardes 
into Pannonia, to allure them into Italy, being a country 
replenished with all manner of commodities, necessary 
for mans life. The Longobardes rejoycing to hear this 
newes, posted with bagge and baggage into Italy, under 
Albolnus tne conduct of their captaine Alboinus, and having 
Captain of conquered many faire cities that resisted them, as 
the Lombards. Tarvisium, Vicenza, Verona, Milan, &c. at last they 
planted themselves in this country, which they called 
after their own name, choosing first Verona, and after 
that Papia, for the place of their kings residence. That 
their comming into Italy was like to be very terrible to 
the inhabitants of the country, it was portended by divers 
fearfull prodigies. For not long before they entered the 
country there were seene fiery armies skirmishing in the 
aire : also bloud gushed out of the earth and the wals of 
houses. And many other strange accidents were observed 
which betokened some great calamities. Some thinke 
Lombards or these people were called Longobardi quasi Longobarbi, 
Long-beards, because they wore long beards. This territory wherein 
they lived had before sundry other names. As Gallia 
Togata, Gallia Cisalpina, Insubria (which indeede 
extended not it selfe so farre as the country called 
by the former names. For Insubria contained no more 
then that part of Lombardy which includeth the Dutchy 
of Milan,) but at this day by corruption of the name, 
it is called Lombardy. Surely such is the fertility of this 
country, that I thinke no Region or Province under the 
Sunne may compare with it. For it is passing plentifully 
[p. 93.] furnished with all things, tending both to pleasure and pro 
fit, being the very Paradise, and Canaan of Christendome. 
The garden of For as Italy is the garden of the world, so is Lombardy 
Italy. the garden of Italy, and Venice the garden of Lombardy. 

It is wholly plaine, and beautified with such abundance 
of goodly rivers, pleasant meadowes, fruitfull vineyardes, 
fat pastures, delectable gardens, orchards, woodes, and 
what not, that the first view thereof did even refocillate 
my spirits, and tickle my senses with inward joy. To 



conclude this introduction to Lombardy, it is so fertile 
a territory, that (as my learned and eloquent friend M. 
Richard Martin of the middle Temple once wrote to me 
a most elegant letter) the butter thereof is oyle, the dew 
hony, and the milk nectar. 

After I was passed a few miles from Vercellis, I came 
into the Dukedome of Milan, which is now the King 
of Spaines Dominion, the first City whereof was Novara Novara. 
a very auncient and faire City well seated : therein we 
were examined. In this City there dwelleth a great 
company of Spaniards with their families. Betwixt Sian 
and Buffolero I passed three ferries. 

Neare unto this citie was fought a memorable battel 
betwixt the French men and the Italians, wherein the 
Switzers shewed a notable example of treachery, which 
happened thus. Anno 1500. Lodowic Duke of Milan 
holding Novara, the Switzers being practised under hand Switzers 
by a great summe of money offered them by Tremoville Treachery. 
commaunder of the French forces, which were then in 
Italy, did mutinously demand their pay of Lodowic. 
Whereupon Lodowic gave them all his plate, but that 
would not satisfie them : they caused the French armie 
to approach to Novara, to the intent to draw Lodowic 
into the fielde. Lodowic comes forth with his army, and 
with his light horse beginnes the charge ; Tremoville 
with the other French leaders made it good upon him, 
& put the Italians to flight. The Switzers being pressed 
to fight by Lodowic refused it, and compassing in Lodowic 
with the presse of their nation, for all the intreaties hee [p. 94-] 
could use to them, would not be perswaded to desist from 
their treacherous enterprise, onely he got a promise from 
them to set him in a place of safety : and so they agreed 
that disguised and armed like a Switzer a foot, he should 
march amongst them : but he was discovered and taken 
prisoner, and carried into France to the castle of Loches, 
where at last hee died, after he had lived ten years in 

After I was entered into Lombardy I observed many 

2 39 


pleasant plaines, and infinite abundance of fat meadows. 
Also I saw marveilous store of goodly Oxen in every 
place of the country, whereof almost all were dunne. 
Carts drawn All those Oxen that drew Cartes had certain white linnen 
coverings cast over their bodies, and fastened upon their 
backes with little woodden peeces that came athwart. 
This they did to the end to keep away the flies from 
their bodies, which would otherwise much infest them. 

I rode from Buffolero about foure of the clocke in the 
morning the fifteenth day of June being Wednesday, and 
came to Milan about eleven of the clocke. Betwixt 
Buffolero and Milan it is twenty miles. 

I observed no extraordinary thing in this space, but 
onely goodly Meadowes, Vineyards, Orchards, and such 
other things as I have heretofore mentioned. 

My Observations of Milan. 

Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written these verses upon 


Scaliger s /^Ompositos populos, validique exordia regni 

" es on \^ excepit facili terra beata sinu. 

r Creverat Ausonio commistus sanguine Gallus, 

& dabat antique fortia jura Pado. 
Tertia se adjunxit tantis Germania rebus, 
& stetit audaci fama parata manu. 
Quaevis simplicibus jactet se gloria signis : 
cum triplex uni contigit aucta mihi. 

Also the Poet Ausonius hath written these verses upon 


Ausonius^ w ^ T Mediolani mira omnia, copia rerum, 

x>erses - I> Innumerae cultaeque domus, facunda virorum 

Ingenia, antiqui mores, turn duplice muro 
Amplificata loci species, populique voluptas 
Circus, & inclusi moles cuneata theatri : 
Templa, Palatinaeque arces, opulensque moneta, 
Et regio Herculei Celebris sub honare lavacri, 



Cunctaque marmoreis ornata peristyla signis, 
Moeniaque in valli formam circundata limbo. 
Omnia quae magnis operum velut aemula formis 
Excellunt, nee juncta premit vicinia Romae. 

Milan is situate in a plaine, compassed round about Milan. 
with the famous river Tesino before mentioned. First 
it was but an obscure and ignoble countrey village, 
founded by the ancient Hetruscans, and after inhabited 
by the Insubres, wherehence the territory round about 
it was called Insubria. But in continuance of time 
Bellovesus the sonne of Ambigatus King of the Celtae 
after he had conquered the countrey about it, amplified 
this village, and made it a faire Citie, even about the 
time of Tarquinius Priscus the fifth King of Rome. At 
the time of the amplification and inlarging by Bellovesus 
there happened a very strange accident, which gave A very 
occasion of the denomination. For when it was new str ^S e 
building, a certaine wilde Sow that came forth of an olde accldent - 
ruinous house very early in the morning, hapned to meet 
some of those that were set aworke about the building 
of the city. This Sow had halfe her body covered with 
hard bristly haire as other Pigges are, and the other halfe 
with very soft and white wooll : which portentum, [p- 9^-] 
Bellovesus took for a very happy and ominous token, so 
that he caused the city to be called Mediolanum from the 
halfe-woolled Sow. What his reason was why he should 
esteem this strange spectacle, for such a luckie token I 
know not, but I conjecture it might be this : perhaps he 
supposed that the bristly haire might presage strength 
and puissance in his subjects, and the wooll plenty of 
necessary meanes that might tend to the clothing of their 
bodies. He environed it with a wall foure and twenty Milan a great 
foote broad, and sixty foure foote high, and built sixe c ty- 
gates therein : it is at the least seven miles about, and 
hath tenne gates in all, whereof foure have beene added 
by some benefactors, to the six that Bellovesus built. 
Many auncient monuments and worthy antiquities are to 
c. c. 241 Q 


be scene in this glorious city. The Church wherein St. 
Church of Ambrose Bishop of Milan in the time of Theodosius the 
S. Ambrose. fi rs t was buried, which Church he built himselfe to the 
honour of the holy Martyrs Gervasius and Protasius. 
This Church is now called St. Ambroses : it was the first 
Christian Temple in all the City, in the which the body 
of St. Ambrose lieth interred under an Altar in a deepe 
cave of the ground, being supported with foure iron 
chaines, and by his body there lieth a certaine booke 
that he wrote. This Altar I saw. Also I saw the place 
where St. Ambrose stood when he prohibited the 
Emperour Theodosius to enter the Church after hee had 
committed that great slaughter of seven thousand men 
at Thessalonica, which is much mentioned in the Ecclesi- 
asticall Historiographers. Hee stood at the Church 
porch at the comming in. A little before the entrance 
of this Church there is a pretty Chappell, wherein are 
painted the pictures of S. Ambrose, S. Augustin, 
Deodatus, and Alipius. For in that Chappell S. Ambrose 
baptised them three in a Font hard by the Altar, which 
is yet to be scene. There also I saw the way wherein 
S. Ambrose and S. Augustin walked together when they 
[p. 97.] sung the hymne Te Deum laudamus. In this Church 
there are shewed two very ancient monuments, especially 
one which is the auncientest of al Christendome, if that 
were true which they report of it. For then it would 
be three thousand five hundred years old : namely the 
Moses brasen serpent which Moses erected in the wildernesse 

Brazen as a type and figure of Christ, to the end that they which 
Serpent. were bitten with any fiery Serpents might be cured only 
by looking upon it. They say this Serpent was bestowed 
upon this Church by the Emperour Theodosius. It is 
erected upon a goodly marble pillar of some twelve or 
sixteene foote high in the body of the Church on the left 
hand as you come in from the great gate. Verily I 
wonder that the Papists can be so impudent to delude 
the people with these most palpable mockeries. For it 
is a meere improbability, yea and an impossibility that 



this should be the true Serpent, because we read in the 

holy * Scriptures that the godly King Ezekias caused it 

to be broken in pieces, because the children of Israeli did 

burne incense to it, and called it Nehushtan, that is, a 

peece of brasse. Yet maugre the authority of Gods 

word, these people doe not sticke to say that they have 

the selfe same serpent. But their impudency were more 

tollerable, if they would say it were only a representation 

of the serpent. The other monument is an exceeding 

rich needle worke, interlaced very curiously with abund- Rich needle- 

ance of gold and silver, that presents a very goodly work about 

picture of Moyses, and histories of matters that happened 2 00 ^ 

in Moyses time : this rich Tapistry is hanged about the 

roofe of the Chappell wherein S. Ambroses body is 

interred, and is reported to be above two thousand yeares 


Amongst other notable antiquities that are kept in this 
Church, there is one thing which (in my opinion) is not 
to be esteemed of the least account, namely an auncient 
Greeke manuscript copie of these two excellent bookes 
of Judaicall antiquities, which that learned Jew, Flavius [p. 98.] 
Josephus wrote in Rome, after the destruction of 
Jerusalem, under the Emperour Titus Vespasianus against 
Appion a Grammarian of Alexandria. This originall is An ancient 
written in ancient Longobard characters in parchment, Greek 
being so old that they are even worm-eaten. But I must manuscn P t - 
needs confesse the truth that I saw not this booke, but 
onely heard it of a learned man in the citie, and doe the 
more certainly believe it, because Gesnerus in his 
Bibliotheca affirmeth as much, even in the Index of the 
workes of that learned Doctor of the Church Ruffinus 
Priest of Aquileia, who translated the said two bookes 
into Latin. Neare to this Temple of S. Ambrose there 
are to be seene the rudera of a Temple built by Nero, 
which he dedicated to the honour of the Paynim Gods : 
many pillars of it remaine, but the roofe is open and 

* 2 King. 1 8. 4. 


S. Barnabas. 


Church of 
Our Lady. 

[P- 99-] 

buried in 

This Citie was first converted to the Christian faith 
by S. Barnabas, at what time Peter was Bishop of 
Antioch, before he came to Rome. S. Barnabas his 
fountaine is to this day shewed in Milan, neare to the 
which he lived, and baptised many with the water thereof, 
which hath the vertue at this day to cure those that hath 
the ague, and many other diseases. 

The Cathedral Church is dedicated to our Lady, which 
John Galeatius Duke of Milan caused to be built, anno 
1386. This is an exceeding glorious and beautifull 
Church, as faire if not fairer then the Cathedral Church 
of Amiens, which I have before so much magnified. All 
this Church seemeth to be built with marble : herein are 
many notable things to be seene : in the Quire the bodies 
of many of the Vicounts of Milan, which were partly of 
the family of the Galeatii, and partly of the Sfortiae, are 
interred. In the body of the Church there are four rowes 
of white marble pillars, which doe exceedingly beautify 
the Church : in each row are sixe pillars. Also I saw a 
monument of a certaine Bishop of Milan called Marcus, 
who bestowed thirty and five thousand duckets towards 
the building of the Church. Moreover that famous 
Cardinal Carolus Borromseus Archbishop of Milan, and 
greatly reverenced in his time for the purity and sancti 
mony of his life, was buried in this Church. The image of 
Christ which is elevated to an exceeding height is erected 
over the entrance of the Quire : it is very richly gilt, 
with the images of the Virgin Mary and S. John at the 
sides of it. Right above Christs image, these wordes 
are written in capitall golden letters : Attendite ad Petram 
unde excisi estis. There are seven or eight goodly 
Altars in this Church (besides the high Altar) adorned 
with sumptuous pillars of rich marble. I ascended 
almost to the toppe of the Tower ; wherehence I 
surveyed the whole citie round about, which yeelded a 
most beautifull and delectable shew. There I observed 
the huge suburbs, which are as bigge as many a faire 
towne, and compassed about with ditches of water : there 



also I beheld a great part of Italy, together with the 

lofty Apennines ; and they shewed me which way Rome, 

Venice, Naples, Florence, Genua, Ravenna, &c. lay. The 

territory of Lombardy, which I contemplated round 

about from this Tower, was so pleasant an object to mine A pleasant 

eyes, being replenished with such unspeakable variety of surve y- 

all things, both for profite and pleasure, that it seemeth 

to me to be the very Elysian fields, so much decantated 

and celebrated by the verses of Poets, or the Tempe or 

Paradise of the world. For it is the fairest plaine, 

extended about some two hundred miles in length that 

ever I saw, or ever shall if I should travell over the 

whole habitable world : insomuch that I said to myselfe 

that this country was fitter to be an habitation for the 

immortall Gods then for mortall men. There is one 

most notable monument kept in this Church, which it 

was not my happe to see, one of the nayles wherewith 

Christ was crucified, as they afrlrme. For they say that 

Theodosius the Emperor bestowed it upon S. Ambrose, 

who placed it first in the Church of Saint Tecla, from [? I00 -] 

whence it was afterward brought to this Church. 

I saw the auncient Palace of the Vicounts of Milan, The ancient 
which is a most magnificent building, at the front whereof Pa ^ f 
are erected twelve statues in milke-white stone of the 
Vicounts to the middle as they ruled by degrees, succes 
sively one after another. One of these Vicounts whose 
name was Otho, gave the arms to the Dukedome of 
Milan, as Claudius Minos in his learned Commentaries 
upon Alciats emblems, even upon the first embleme doth 
mention, where he citeth a memorable history out of three 
worthy Authours, Alciat himselfe, Francis Petrarch, and 
Paulus Jovius. But that which he taketh out of Jovius, 
which I must applaude above the rest, I will here alleage, 
seeing in this discourse of the Palace of the Vicounts, it 
is not impertinent to mention so notable a matter as this. 
When as Otho Vicount of Milan, a man of great prowesse 
and courage, in the time of the warre against the Turkes 
and Saracens, under the conduct of Godfry Duke of 



A memorable Boulogne, fought in a single combat with a certain 
duel Saracen called Volucis, who in the middest of the field 

challenged the stoutest Christian of all the army to a 
duell ; he conquered him with no lesse fortitude then 
happinesse, and having slaine him he got from him a 
spoile ful of immortal glory, namely a golden Viper that 
was erected upon the crest of his helmet, curiously repre 
sented with his winding circles, and devouring of a young 
child, which one argument of his happy puissance was 
afterward used by his posterity for the armes of the 
Dukedome, as being a thing that portended the flourishing 
estate and glory of the City. Some doe thinke that the 
said Saracen Volucis was descended of the stocke of 
Alexander the Great, and that therefore he used the Viper 
for his arms, in regard that a Viper according to a certaine 
fable of Olympias, the Mother of the foresaid Alexander, 
[p. i oi.] did once bring forth a child. For shee reported that 
shee was begotten with child by a certaine Dragon that 
presented himselfe unto her in the shape of Jupiter : 
which was the reason that her sonne Alexander did 
afterward give the Viper, bringing forth a child for his 
arms. Thus farre Minos out of Jovius. 

A Library, I went to the Library of Cardinall Borromaeus, which 
but no books, is an exceeding faire peece of workmanship, but it is not 
fully finished, so that there is not one booke in it, but 
it is said it shall be shortly furnished. 

There is a singular beautifull Monastery in this City 
of Ambrosian Monks, where I saw a most sumptuous 
The Hall hall, built by one Calixtus Laudensis, Anno Domini 1 547, 
of the t h e roo f e whereof is very loftily concamerated, and 

adorned with many exquisite pictures of religious 
matters : in the middle there is a pulpit, wherein at 
their meales they reade the Legend of the Saints : in 
this hall there are twelve tables for the Monks to sit at 
their meales, whereof five are in one side, five in the 
other, and two at the higher end. The Monks sit only 
at the inside of the table : at the lower end of the hall 
there are many faire religious pictures. The Cloisters 



are many, and very faire both for breadth and length, 
and the multitude of goodly pillars. Likewise there is 
a great company of faire galleries, and three or four 
delectable gardens belonging to this Monastery, full of 
variety of pleasant fruits. 

The Church of the Augustinian Monkes is passing A glorious 
glorious, being for the richnesse of the marble pillars, thurch. 
the curiosity of the pictures, and the sumptuousnesse of 
the roofe, which is wonderfull richly imbossed with gilt 
bosses, the fairest that ever I saw till then, even fairer 
then Amiens Church, though indeede nothing so great. 
A certaine Merchant of Genua hath a very beautifull 
house in this City neare the Jesuitical Church : it is 
the fairest that I saw in all Milan, even fairer then the 
Vicounts Palace, three stories high, very large, and full 
of roomes. The whole outside is built with white stone, 
and adorned with many curious workes. [p. 102.] 

There is a very magnificent Hospitall in this City, 
wherein are an hundred and twelve chambers, and foure 4000 poor 
thousand poore people are relieved in the same. The P e P* e r " tevet * 

i f i i 11 r < tn the 

yearehe revenues or it are said to be at the least fifty ^ os pi ta i 
thousand crownes. 

No City of Italy is furnished with more manuary arts Excellent 
then this, which it yeeldeth with as much excellency as manuar y arts - 
any City of all Christendome, especially two, embrodering 
and making of hilts for swords and daggers. Their 
embroderers are very singular workemen, who worke 
much in gold and silver. Their cutlers that make hilts 
are more exquisite in that art then any that I ever saw. 
Of these two trades there is a great multitude in the 
city : Also silkemen do abound here, which are esteemed 
so good that they are not inferiour to any of the Christian 

The Citadell is the fairest without any comparison 
that ever I saw, farre surpassing any one Citadell what 
soever in Europe, as I have heard worthy travellers report. 
For it is so great that it seemeth rather a towne then a 
Citadell, being distinguished by many spacious and goodly 



Citadel of 



greene courts, which are invironed with faire rowes of 
houses like streets, wherein the Spaniards dwell with their 
families, and exercise divers manuary trades. Also in 
these courts as it were certaine market places, there are 
usually markets kept : of these courts I saw foure or five 

This Citadell is of an incomparable strength both by 
nature and art ; at the first gate this inscription is written 
in great Roman letters in gold. Philippus secundus 
Catholicus, Maximus Hispaniarum Rex, Potens, Justus, 
& Clemens. The whole Citadell is built with brick, and 
covered with faire tile, saving two bulwarks thereof which 
are very strong and ancient, built with free stone, which 
is so laid that the whole outside is very curiously contrived 
with diamond workes. And the foundation thereof is so 
deepe, that it is just as farre from a certaine stony circle 
that appeareth a little above the ground to the bottom of 
the foundation, as it is from that circle to the toppe of 
the bulwarke. There was heretofore an other bulwarke 
farre fairer then either of these two. For the front of 
it was adorned with the marble images of the Patrones 
and principall Benefactors of the City, together with the 
Armes of the Sfortiae Dukes of Milan, which built the 
same : but in the time that Francis the French King held 
A very dismal it, by a very dismall chance it was all blowen up with 
gunne-powder that was kept in the same, which hapned 
to be set a fire Anno 1521 by lightning that fell from 
heaven. The force whereof not only razed the bulwarke 
from the very foundations, but also overthrew a great 
part of the wals of the Citadell, together with the 
chambers and adjoyning roomes ; and the stones that 
flew about slew the two Captains of the Citadell, who 
a little before came towards a little chappell neer to the 
gate, to the end to make their oraizons to the Virgin 
Mary, according to their daily custome. The same 
stones killed others also of the souldiers which walked 
abroade in the evening to take the aire (for this tragicall 
chance hapned in the sommer) and of others brake the 




heads, armes, and legges. So that of two hundred 
souldiers there were but twelve escaped alive. The 
Citadell is moted round about with a broade mote of 
fine running water, and many other sweet rivers and 
delectable currents of water doe flow within the Citadell. Abundance of 
In one of these rivers there are two milles, whereof the water. 
one is for grinding of corne, the other for making of gun 
powder. Also whereas these rivers doe runne into the 
towne to the great commodity of the townesmen, the 
inhabitants can at all times when they list restraine the 
passage of them, and so barre the townesmen of the use 
of them, to their great prejudice and discommodity ; but 
so cannot the townesmen on the contrary side restraine [p. 104.] 
the inhabitants of the Citadell.* There is a store house 
in this Citadell, wherein is kept provision of corne, oyle, 
and other things necessary for the sustaining of a band 
of souldiers for three yeares. In the middle bulwarke 
of the Citadell I saw two breaches that were made in the 
wall by the shot of Charles the fifth his souldiers, (as the 
Spaniards told me) when Charles besieged Francis the 
French King there. The munition of the Citadell is The munition 
so much, especially for great peeces of Ordinance, that I of the Citadel. 
think no Citadell of all Christendome may compare with 
it. In each of these two great bulwarks that I first 
mentioned, there are five very huge peeces of Ordinance 
that exceed all the rest. About the toppe of the Citadel 
there is a very long gallery which is square, and divided 
into foure long walkes, that are replenished with wonder- 
full store of Ordinance, whereof part are planted Eastward 
against the towne, to batter it if it should make an 
insurrection ; and part on the contrary side Westward 
against the country if that should rebell. For a great 
part of Lombardy Westward belongeth to the Citadel, 
for the sustentation of the presidiary souldiers, who are 
all Spaniards, being in number five hundred. In one of 
these foure long walkes I reckoned about eight and 

* Neare to one of these Rivers I saw a pretty amorous sight ; a woman 
naked from the middle upward sitting at her worke. 



twenty great peeces, besides those of the lesser sort, as 
Sakers. Whereof one among the rest was exceeding 
Great great, and about sixteene foote long, made of brasse, a 
Ordnance, demy culverlin, which was once the Duke of Saxonies, 
whose armes were made in it with the year of our Lord 
1533. Another at the end of the same walke, longer 
then this by foure foote, which was said to carry a bullet 
at the least eight miles, which I doe hardly beleeve to 
be true. This was an whole culverlin. They report 
that there are peeces in this Citadel which will carry a 
bullet of eight hundred pound weight. Also I saw an 
exceeding huge Basiliske, which was so great that it would 
[p. 105.] easily contayne the body of a very corpulent man. So 
many there are of them in the Citadel, that I thinke the 
totall number of them is at the least two hundred. Also 
I saw an yron grate where all the peeces are drawen up 
to the gallery from a very deepe place underneath. And 
a very faire little Chappel wherein they say Masse, in 
which there is a marvailous rich Altar and Tabernacle. 
When I came forth of the Citadel, after I had survayed 
An Angry all the principal places, a certain Spaniard imagining that 
Spaniard. \ na d beene a Flemming expressed many tokens of anger 
towards me, and lastly railed so extremely at me, that 
if I had not made haste out with my company, I was 
afeard he would have flung a stone at my head, or other 
wise have offered some violence to me. There is such 
an extreme hatred betwixt the Milanois and the Spaniards, 
that neither the Milanois doe at any time come into the 
Citadel, nor the Spaniards into the City, but only in the 

We reade in Histories, that many of the Roman 
Emperours, and other great personages of the Citie of 
Rome, did sometimes make their residence in Milan, 
partly for their recreation, as being a place that abounded 
with all manner of delights that the heart of man can 
wish for ; and partly to the end to defend and fortifie 
that part of Italic against the incursions of the Trans 
alpine people, who did often conveigh their forces over 



the Alpes into Italy, and annoyed the Italians. For this The Roman 

cause Julius Caesar made his abode here, who (as Plutarch Emperors 

writeth in his life) kept very honourable hospitality in a J*? e m 

this Citie ; here also resided Pompey the Great ; Trajan, 

who built a sumptuous Pallace heere, whereof part is to 

bee scene at this day ; Adrian ; Constantius the Emperour 

the third Sonne of the Emperour Constantine the Great ; 

Valentinian the first ; Theodosius the first, who after his 

miraculous victorie of Eugenius and Arbogastes in 

Lombardy, spent three yeares in this Citie in company 

with that godly Bishop Saint Ambrose, and at last 

died here : also his body being afterwards transported [p. 106.] 

to Constantinople. Here lived Placidia Galla the 

Emperesse, sister to the Emperour Honorius, and 

wife to the Emperour Constantius, who was Honorius 

his Colleague and fellow Augustus in the Empire. Here 

I say she lived while her husband was abroad in the warres, 

and built a most magnificent temple dedicated to Saint 

Aquilinus, which is to this day standing, but I confesse 

I saw it not. Here raigned Bertarius the second sonne 

of Aribertus the ninth King of the Longobardes, while 

his eldest brother Godebertus raigned in Pavie. 

In this Citie Pipin King of Italy the second sonne of 
Charlemaine by his second wife Hildegardis ended his 
life, but he was buried in Verona, whose monument I 
saw there, as I shall hereafter declare in my description of 
that Citie. Here dyed that famous and victorious Prince, Theodoric 
Theodoricus Veronensis King of the Gothes, who raigned King of the 
thirty three yeares in Ravenna, after hee had conquered Goths. 
and slaine Odoacer the Rugian that usurped the kingdome 
of Italy fourteene yeeres, by expelling Augustulus the 
last Emperour of Rome and the Sonne of Orestes ; 
betwixt which Augustulus his time and Charlemaine 
being above three hundred and thirty yeares, there was 
no King in Italy, but a very confused and turbulent 
government, partly by the Exarches of Ravenna, and 
partly by the Longobardicall Kings of Pavie. Heere 
also died Ludovicus the second Emperour of that name, 



[P. 107.] 

after he had warred in Italy partly with the Saracens in 
the Territory of Beneventum, and partly with Adalgisius 
Prince of Salerne, even in the year 874. and of his 
raigne the nineteenth. 

Here was borne and lived Dioclesians Colleague, 
Maximinian. Maximinian, that bloudy persecutor of the Christians, 
who surnamed himselfe Herculeus, here I say he lived 
after Dioclesian and himselfe had abandoned the Empire, 
and here he built a Temple dedicated to Hercules, which is 
now consecrated to the honour of Saint Laurence. This 
Maximinian would have had the Citie no more called 
Mediolanum, but Herculeum. He ordained when he 
lived here, that all the Emperours should be here crowned 
with an yron crowne before they should bee called Kings 
of Italy ; which solemnity hath continued ever since, 
and to this day is performed by our Christian Emperours 
in the Church of S. Ambrose, the Archbishop of Milan 
crowning them, but the crowne is kept at Modoetia a 
towne in Lombardie about some ten miles from Milan. 
Here also was borne another Emperour, namely Didius 
Julianus the successor of Pertinax. Here met Con- 
stantine the Great with his Colleague in the Empire 
Licinius, when he marched with his army towards Rome 
against his tyrannicall brother in law Maxentius ; and 
before he went out of this Citie, here was a most royall 
and magnificent marriage celebrated betwixt the saide 
Licinius and the Lady Constantia sister to the Emperour 
Constantine aforesaid. Moreover many famous men 
have studied here, and dedicated themselves to the Muses, 
as the Poet Virgill, Valerius Maximus, who was borne 
here also, the same that dedicated that excellent booke of 
Examples to Tiberius Caesar, which is so common now a 
dayes in the hands of the learned. Alipius that lived 
in Saint Augustines time. Hermolaus Barbarus Patriarch 
of Aquileia that flourished in the time of Angelus 
Politian : George Merula a great aemulus of Politian : 
Francis Philelphus that excellent orator and Poet that lived 
anno 1480. Ludovicus Cselius Rodiginus so famous for 


TAe Great. 

Famous men 
studied in 


his thirty bookes antiquarum lectionum ; and the most 
famous and elegant Civilian Andreds Alciatus, the Author 
of many learned workes published to the world. Heere 
was he borne and a long time studied. Here was borne 
that constant Martyr of Jesus Christ Saint Sebastian, s. Sebastian. 
who was shot to death with arrowes under the Emperour 
Dioclesian, whose picture made according to his Martyr- 
dome, I often observed erected over the Altars of many [p. 108.] 
Papistical Churches, as in our Lady Church of Paris, 
and divers other places. 

The government of this Citie hath according to the Many 
change of times come to many severall Lords, first cfian S es f 
Bellovesus the Gaule that was the inlarger thereof, 
swayed it many yeares ; next the people of Rome ; after 
that the Latin Emperours for many yeares* Then the 
Greeke Emperours of Constantinople succeeded after the 
imperiall seat was translated from Rome to Byzantium. 
Then againe the Gothes whose Court was at Ravenna : 
then the Kings of Italy after the time of Carolus 
Magnus : and againe the Emperours of Germany : after 
them Martinus Turrianus, and other noble wights of 
that familie : after them the two potent and illustrious 
families of the *Galeatii and Sfortiae one hundred and 
seventie yeares, till Francis Sfortia the last Vicount, who Francis 
was taken prisoner by Francis the French King, and died s f orza the 
Anno. 1435. the twenty fourth of October: but now by last 7iscount - 
the fatal revolution of times it is devolved to the honour 
able house of Austria. Likewise it hath suffered many 
devastations and depopulations, being first wasted by 
Brennus in the time of that valiant Roman Worthy 
Camillus. Secondly that flagellum Dei that barbarous 
King of the Hunnes Attila which was about foure hundred 
yeares after Christ, and in the time of that godly Pope 
Leo the first. Thirdly by Vitiges the fourth Gothical 
King of Ravenna, who with most mercilesse and out- 

* These were so called quasi Galliatii from the Latin word gallus, 
which signifieth a cocke, because certaine cocks crowed al that night in 
Milan, that Matthew the Vicount begot his first sonne. 



ragious cruelty sacked the same, and slew thirty thousand 
Frederick Citizens. Lastly Fredericus Barbarossa alias ^Enobarbus, 
Barbarossa. after he had continually besieged it for the space of two 
yeares, wasted it with that hostility, that he strewed the 
City and many places of the territory with salt in steede 
of corne, having first turned up the ground with a plough. 
Hard by this City was the Emperour Gallienus together 
with his brother Valerianus slaine, about the yeare of 
[p. 109.] our Lord 271, at what time he besieged Milan against 
one Aureolus, a notable rebell against the Roman Empire. 
Here was that good and victorious Emperour Flavius 
Claudius the successor of the foresaid Gallienus chosen 
by the army, who had beene one of Gallienus his 
principall Captaines at the siege of Milan. Here the 
said Emperour Claudius conquered and slew Aureolus 
before mentioned, who was proclaimed Emperour in 
Dalmatia by the Roman legions that resided there, and 
was one of the thirty Tyrants, so famoused by the 
historians that rose in divers Provinces of the Empire 
against Gallienus. 

1 68 There are reported to be in Milan eleven Colledge 

Churches. Churches, threescore and ten Parish Churches, thirty of 

Regular Monkes, eight of Regular Clarkes, sixe and 

thirty of Nunnes. In all one hundred threescore and 

120 Schools, eight. There are a hundred and twenty Schooles in the 

city, wherein children are taught the principles of 

Christian religion : it is thought there are not so few as 

three hundred thousand soules in this city. 

Thus much of Milan. 


Rode in Coach from Milan the sixteenth day of June 
being Thursday, about two of the clocke in the 
Lodi. afternoone, and came to the city of Lodi, being twenty 

miles therehence, about nine of the clocke in the evening. 
In this space I observed nothing memorable, but only 
the drawing of lino in many places of their ground, of 
which lino they make their flaxe, and with their flaxe 
fine linnen for sheets, shirts, bands, curtaines for their 



beds, &c. and some linnen they make of a courser sort, 

of which kinde the apparell of most of their country 

people is made. At night one sinister accident hapned A sinister 

to me, that whereas I came very late to the city, the gates accident. 

were locked that I could by no meanes be admitted within 

the city. Whereupon being destitute of a lodging, I [p. no.] 

reposed my selfe all that night in a certaine Inne in the 

suburbes of the city, where lodging was so scarce by 

reason that the house was before overladen with guests, 

that I was constrained to lye all that night in the coach 

I rode in. This city is called in Latin Lauda, and Laus 

Pompeia, because it is neare unto a city of that name 

three miles distant from it that was once built by the 

father of Pompey the Great, but now utterly ruinated. 

This city was destroyed by the Milanois about the yeare 1,^1 destroyed 

1161. in the time of the warre betwixt them and the by the 

Emperour Frederick Barbarossa. But being after reedi- Milanese. 

fied by the Emperour, I have read that he once made his 

aboade therein. 

This is one of the three cities of Italy, that yeeldeth 
such excellent butter and cheese ; the other two are 
Parma and Placentia. 

I rode from Lodi about foure of the clocke in the 
morning, the seventeenth day of June being Friday, and 
came to a towne called Pizighiton seated by the river 
Abdua about one of the clocke in the afternoone. Over 
this river we were ferried. Betwixt Lodi and Pizighiton p- tz zi- 
it is eighteene miles. In this towne there is a faire Castle, ghettone. 
wherein Francis the first of that name king of France 
lived in captivity for the space of two yeares, after he 
was taken prisoner by Carolus Quintus at Pavy a city 
of Lombardy. I saw the tower wherein he lay, which 
is on the left hand of the gate as you enter into the Castle : 
in his chamber he wrote with his owne hand these wordes 
in French and Spanish, which are yet to be seene. Francis 
king of France. It hapned when the king lay here that 
he played at tennis with a certaine Spanish Gentleman 
that was his familiar friend, whom the king in the middest 



Foul Play, of his play strooke with a tennis ball. The Spaniard 
told the king that he played foule play ; the king affirmed 
the contrary, and said to the Spaniard, darest thou con- 

[p. in.] tradict a king? and therewithal immediately drew his 
dagger, and stabbed the Spaniard. This a certaine Italian 
Gentleman called Joannes Antonius Sartorius of the 
towne of Pizighiton told me, who used me exceeding 
kindly, and invited me to his house, where he gave me 
a cup of very neate wine. Many other memorable things 
also he told me, and seemed to be an excellent Schollar. 
I went from Pizighiton about foure of the clocke in 

Cremona. the afternoone that day, and came to Cremona a very faire 
city of Lombardy about seven of the clocke in the 
evening. Betwixt Pizighiton and Cremona it is twelve 

Here will I mention a thing, that although perhaps 
it will seeme but frivolous to divers readers that have 
already travelled in Italy ; yet because unto many that 
neither have beene there, nor ever intend to go thither 
while they live, it will be a meere novelty, I will not let 

Fans carried it passe unmentioned. The first Italian fannes that I saw 

in Italy. j n Jtaly did I observe in this space betwixt Pizighiton 
and Cremona. But afterward I observed them common 
in most places of Italy where I travelled. These fannes 
both men and women of the country doe carry to coole 
themselves withall in the time of heate, by the often 
fanning of their faces. Most of them are very elegant 
and pretty things. For whereas the fanne consisteth of 
a painted peece of paper and a little wooden handle ; the 
paper which is fastened into the top is on both sides most 
curiously adorned with excellent pictures, either of 
amorous things tending to dalliance, having some witty 
Italian verses or fine emblemes written under them ; or 
of some notable Italian city with a briefe description 
thereof added thereunto. These fannes are of a meane 
price. For a man may buy one of the fairest of them 
for so much money as countervaileth our English groate. 
Also many of them doe carry other fine things of a far 



greater price, that will cost at the least a duckat, which 

they commonly call in the Italian tongue umbrellaes, that [p. 112-] 

is, things that minister shadow unto them for shelter 

against the scorching heate of the Sunne. These are 

made of leather something answerable to the forme of a Umbrellas. 

little cannopy, & hooped in the inside with divers little 

wooden hoopes that extend the umbrella in a pretty 

large compasse. They are used especially by horsemen, 

who carry them in their hands when they ride, fastening 

the end of the handle upon one of their thighes, and they 

impart so long a shadow unto them, that it keepeth the 

heate of the sunne from the upper parts of their bodies. 

My Observations on Cremona. 

Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written this decastichon upon Scaligers 

Cremona. nt on 


QUis modus esset agris, & quanta licentia frugum 
Verba peregrina Gallica voce notant. 
Inde solum nati laetum dixere Cremonam, 

Quin Latio vox est deliciosa cremor. 
Usque adeo longo reddit cum faenore tellus, 

Praeteritique hornus commoda ridet ager. 
Deficit & cultrum, & vomer : non deficit uber ; 

Lassa manus, trita sarcula, fessa Ceres. 
Reddant pensum alias : nostrse lex unica terras est 

Et votum Domini, & spem superare sui. 

Cremona is a very beautifull citie, seated under a very Cremona. 
pleasant and holesome clymate, built with bricke, and 
walled with bricke wals, wherein are five gates ; and it is 
invironed with trenches and rampiers, and pleasantly 
watered by the river Abdua. There is a pretty bricke 
citadell at the entrance of the towne, a little without the 
wall, even at the west end. It seemeth to be very 
auncient, but it is exceeding low : it is guarded by a 
Garison of Spaniards in the behalfe of the King of Spaine, [p. 113.] 
to whom it belongeth as being a member of the Dukedom 
of Milan. In the citie I saw many faire and sumptuous 
c. c. 257 R 


The highest buildings, and some stately places. The principal Church 

T aTltaf hath the m g hest Tower of all Italy, the foundation of 
which Church was built upon the bones of Hercules as 
that learned Gentleman of Pizighiton Joannes Antonius 
Sartorius tolde me. For confirmation whereof hee said 
there are very good authorities of learned writers. They 
attribute so much to the heigth of this Tower, that of 
late they have invented this proverbe in Italy : Unus 
Deus in Roma, unus portus in Ancona, & una turris in 
Cremona. This Tower is easily to be seene to Milan in 
a cleare day, being full fiftie miles off. Howsoever the 
Italians extoll it for the heigth, it is not comparable to 
the steeple of our Lady Church in Sarisbury, which I take 
to be at least twenty foote higher then this. And as for 
the Tower of Strazbourg in Germany, that exceedeth 
this in heigth, and for the curiosity of the architecture 
thereof doth by many degrees excell it. There is one 
very memorable thing reported of this Tower of Cremona, 
that when John the two and twentieth of that name 
Pope, and the Emperour Sigismundus went almost to 
the toppe of the steeple to survay the countrey round 
about it as from a pleasant prospect, the Governor of the 
city, whose name was Gabrinus Fundulius, being then 
with them intended to have throwen them downe headlong 
from the Tower ; but his heart so failed him, that he 
did not put the matter in execution, though he had full 
opportunity to doe it. I was at the Councell house, 
where I saw the principall Magistrates of the citie sit 
about the publike affaires, and many of the citizens 

Good Swords, assembled together. In this citie are made passing good 
swords as in most places of Italy. The Augustinian 
Monkes have the stateliest Library for workemanship 
(as the aforesaid Sartorius told me) that is in all Italy ; 

[p. 114.] therefore I went thither to see it, but because I came so 
late, even about nine of the clocke at night, I had not 

Frogs used for fa & opportunity to view it. I did eate fried Frogges in 
this citie, which is a dish much used in many cities of 
Italy : they were so curiously dressed, that they did 



exceedingly delight my palat, the head and the forepart 

being cut off. In the suburbes of the citie without the 

gate Pulesella there is a certaine Well, which when it A Monkish 

had once very foule water, and unwholesome to drinke, figment. 

was so purged from the impurity thereof by certaine 

signes of the crosse that S. Dominicke and S. Francis 

which once lived in Cremona made over it, that from 

that time it was as pleasant and sweete to drinke as any 

other water. This is indeed a tradition of their Monks, 

& no otherwise to be beleeved then a Monkish figment. 

The inhabitants of this citie sustained much damage in 

the time of Augustus Caesar, because they harboured the 

forces of Cassius, Brutus and Antonius. Whereupon 

Augustus after he had gotten the victory of Antonius, 

being grievously incensed against them of Cremona, 

deprived them of their grounds, and bestowed them upon 

his trained souldiers : which Virgil doth intimate when 

he saith, 

Mantua vae miseras nimium vicina Cremonae. 

Where he complaineth of the infelicity of Mantua, 
because seeing it was so neare to Cremona that had so 
much offended Augustus, the Mantuans lost many of 
their grounds also. 

I finde in that excellent historiographer Cornelius Two 
Tacitus mention of two memorable battels foughte neare memorable 
this citie : whereof the first was betwixt the souldiers of att ^ s - 
the Emperour Otho successor to Galba, and his adversarie 
Vitellius afterward Emperour, at a place called Bebriacum 
neare unto Cremona. For there in a great skirmish Otho 
his captaines, who marched from Rome with the Pretorian 
cohorts, overcame the Vitellians that consisted of al those 
legions that fortified the frontier townes of high Germany, 
situate upon the banke of the river Rhene, and some of [p. 115.] 
the Netherlands. The second battell was waged a little 
after Vespasian was chosen Emperour by the Roman 
armie in Judea, betwixt a worthy Captaine one Antony 
chief commaunder of the Roman legions in Illyricum 



& Dalmatia, and the Vitellians. This battell Antony 
undertooke in the behalfe of the new chosen Emperour 
Vespasian ; And it was so bloudy and fierce, that of 
Antonies side who got the victory, there were slaine 
34,500 men foure thousand five hundred men, and at the least thirty 

o / * * 

thousand of the Vitellians that were conquered. 

I reade also in Historians that this citie hath beene 
very much damnified at two severall times : first by Attila 
King of the Hunnes, who destroyed it at the same time 
that he did Milan : which happened after he was over- 
throwne by the famous ^Etius the generall Captaine of 
the Emperour Valentinian the third, in that most 
memorable battell in France, which was fought betwixt 
him and the Romanes in the Catalaunicall fieldes, neare 
the citie of Tholosa : Secondly by Egilolphus the fourth 
King of the Longobardes. 

Cremona Cremona received great losse by the Admirall of 

Assaulted Fraunce in the time of Francis the French King, who 
by the French, assaulted it with a greate armie of thirty thousand foot 
men, and two thousand horsemen, and for the space of 
three dayes grievously battered the walles : but whereas 
he meant afterward to have entered the citie, there 
suddenly descended such abundance of raine from heaven, 
which continued for the space of foure daies, that he 
raised his siege, and transferred his forces to Milan. 
After which time the citizens of Cremona reedified the 
walles, and made them as faire as before. 

I am sory that I am so briefe in the description of 
this elegant citie of Cremona. For the short time that 
I spent there deprived me of the opportunity to survay 
those monuments and antiquities that I understood are 
[p. 1 1 6.] to be seene there, which I would most willingly have 
communicated to my countrey. But what is now 
wanting I hope shall be hereafter supplied : And so I 
conclude this short history of Cremona, with mention of 
the Prince of the Latin Poets, famous Virgil, whom in 
my youth I reverenced as my master : and therefore I 
will ever till the fatall day of my life honour the memorie 



of that incomparable man. In this city did that famous 
Poet consecrate himselfe to the Muses, and spent some 
time in the study of good letters, according as hee did 
in Milan, as I have before mentioned. 

Thus much of Cremona. 

I Rode from Cremona about five of the clock in the A pox-house. 
morning the eighteenth day of June being Saturday, 
and came to a solitary post-house twenty miles off, by a 
little brooke side about noone. The first wheat that I 
saw cut this yeare was at that postehouse, which was 
about sixe weekes sooner then we use to cut our wheat 
in England. For the space of seven or eight miles before 
I came to Mantua I saw so much wheat cut in al the 
countrey, that there was little or none standing upon the 
ground, and in most places it was cleane carried away 
out of the fields. 

I rode from the poste-house about two of the clocke 
in the afternoone, and came to Mantua, which was twenty 
miles beyond it, about halfe an houre after seven of the 
clocke in the evening. 

About some twelve miles before I came to Mantua, Mlrandula. 
I passed through Mirandula, which is the towne where 
that famous and learned Earle Joannes Picus, the mirrour 
of his time, and the Phoenix of Italy was borne, and 
whereof he was Earle. It is a pretty little towne, adorned 
with many faire buildings : both before we came into the 
towne, and after we had passed it there were two or three [p. 117.] 
very faire greene wayes of more then a mile long, being 
set on both sides with abundance of Apple and Poplar 
trees, which made a faire shew. I observed this towne 
Mirandula to be very desolate and unpeopled : the reason 
is, because the Bandits, which are the murdering robbers Murdering 
upon the Alpes, and many places of Italy, make their Robbers. 
aboad in it as it were their safe Sanctuary and refuge, 
where they live in the castle of the towne : who because 
they doe oftentimes violently breake out upon the towns 
men and other passengers, depriving them both of life 



and goods, they minister such occasion of feare to the 

inhabitants, that there dwell but few people in the towne. 
About half a mile on this side Mantua there is a 

very faire Nunnery : and hard without the wals of the 
Great Store of citie at the west end, there groweth the greatest store of 
Flags. flagges, in a marish soile on both sides of the way that 

ever I saw before. 

Seafiger s 
Venes on 

My Observations of Mantua. 

Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written these verses upon 


MAxima cum veteri turgeret Hetruria regno, 
Sceptraque terrarum jungeret aucta mari : 
Mole nova tumuit, soliisque excrevit avitis, 

Ut premeret forti jura aliena pede. 
Inde est in superas deducta Colonia terras : 

Non tamen his potuit Mantua tota dari. 
Clara viris, felix Ducibus, divo inclyta cycno, 

Quern vitreis aluit Mincius Andis aquis. 
Mantua dives avis, magno non cesserit orbi, 

Tota tamen parte hac vincitur ipsa sui. 

The Citie of Mantua I take to be one of the auncientest 
cities of Italy, auncienter then Rome by foure hundred 
and thirty yeares. For that was built but seven hundred 
fiftie three yeares before Christ, as Funccius, Carion, 
Chytraeus and most of the best Chronologers doe record. 
Mantua built But this was built one thousand, one hundred and eighty 
nSo B.C. yeares before Christ, as the Historiographers do report, 
which was some few yeares before the beginning of the 
Trojan warres : it was founded by one Ocnus Bianor an 
ancient King of the Hetruscans, who was the sonne of 
a certaine Propheticall woman borne in the Bceoticall 
Thebes called Manto, from whose name he called the 
citie, not from his owne, as that famous Poet * Virgil in 
the honour of his countrey writeth, whose verses are these : 

[p. 1 1 8.] 



Ille etiam patriis agmen ciet Ocnus ab oris 

Fatidicae Mautus & Tusci filius amnis, verses. 

Qui muros matrisque dedit tibi Mantua nomen. 

Mantua dives avis, sed non genus omnibus unum, 

Gens illi triplex, populi sub gente quaterni, 

Ipsa caput populis, Tusco de sanguine vires. 

Whereas he saith Gens illi triplex, it seemeth something 

hard to be understood without the true knowledge of 

the History, which according to the interpretation of 

a certaine elegant author that I found in Italy, I take to 

be this. This citie was first composed of three severall Three peopl 

people, namely the Tuscians from whom Ocnus Bianor tn Mantua. 

was descended, being the sonne of Tiberinus that was 

King of the Tuscians ; the Thebanes wherehence his 

mother the Prophetesse Manto came ; and the Veneti 

alias Eneti sprung from the Paphlagones, of whom Livie 

writeth about the beginning of the first booke of his first 

Decad. And whereas he saith Populi sub gente quaterni, 

he meaneth that the whole people being divided into 

certaine tribes, each tribe was againe subdivided into 

foure parts. 

Truely it is neither the long genealogie of the Tuscan [p. 119.] 
Kings, nor the magnificence of the ancient buildings nor 
the sweetnesse of the situation, nor any other ornament 
whatsoever that hath halfe so much enobled this delicate 
Citie, as the birth of that peerelesse and incomparable 
Poet Virgil, in respect of whom the Mantuans have 
reason to bee as proude as the Colophonians or Mantua. 
Smyrnians in Greece were of their Homer. I saw 
indeed the statue of Virgil made in stone as farre as the 
girdle, which was erected in one of their market places, 
but had I not beene brought into such a narrow compasse 
of time (for I came into the Citie about half an houre 
after seven of the clocke in the evening, and rode there- 
hence about eight of the clocke the next morning) I would 
have scene the house at a place called Andes, a little mile 
from Mantua, wherein he .was borne and lived. For the 



ruins thereof are yet shewed to the immortal glory of the 

This Citie is marvellous strong, and walled round about 
with faire bricke wals, wherein there are eight gates, and 
is thought to be foure miles in compasse : the buildings 
Sumptuous both publique and private are very sumptuous and 
Buildings, magnificent : their streets straite and very spacious. Also 
I saw many stately Pallaces of a goodly height : it is most 
sweetly seated in respect of the marvailous sweete ayre 
thereof, the abundance of goodly meadows, pastures, 
vineyards, orchards, and gardens about it. For they have 
such store of gardens about the Citie, that I thinke London 
which both for frequencie of people, and multitude of 
howses doth thrise exceed it, is not better furnished with 
gardens. Besides they have one more commoditie which 
maketh the Citie exceeding pleasant even the fair river 
Mincius that floweth out of the noble Lake Benacus, 
of which Virgil speaketh. 

Hie viridis tenera praetexit arundine ripas 

Mincius, &c.* 

[p. izo.] Withall they have abundance of delectable fruites 
Delectable growing about the Citie, whereof I saw great variety in 
Fruits. the market place the Sunday morning when I departed 
therehence, and no small diversity of odoriferous flowers. 
Truely the view of this most sweet Paradise, this 
domicilium Venerum & Charitum did even so ravish my 
senses, and tickle my spirits with such inward delight, 
that I said unto my selfe, this is the Citie which of all 
other places in the world, I would wish to make my 
habitation in, and spend the remainder of my dayes in 
some divine Meditations amongst the sacred Muses, were 
it not for their grosse idolatry and superstitious ceremonies 
which I detest, and the love of Odcombe in Somersetshire, 
which is so deare unto me that I preferre the very smoke 
thereof before the fire of all other places under the Sunne. 

* Georgi. 4. 


The Palace of the present Duke of Mantua, whose The Palace. 
name is Vincentius Gonzaga, is very neare to the 
principall Church which is dedicated to Saint Barbara, 
being right opposite unto it on the right hand as you 
go to the Church from the towne : it is a very ancient 
and faire building, having two gates to enter two severall 
courts which are kept by a guard of Switzers. One of 
these gates which was made against the marriage of the 
yong Prince of Mantua, Francis Gonzaga (whereof I 
have spoken before in my discourse of Turin) is very 
new, and a most magnificent and stately worke, made all 
of white stone, wherein the Dukes arms are most 
exquisitely wrought in gold with a coronet on the top 
thereof. Also there are three statues very curiously Three Statues 
pourtrayed in white stone upon the toppe of this gate, 
with white mantles about them, under whom this poesie 
is written in azure, in capital Roman letters. 

His ego nee metas rerum, nee tempora pono. 

Which verse is taken out of the first ^neid of Virgil, 
and in my opinion very proudly applyed. For Virgil 
applyed it only to Augustus, (in whose time hee wrote it) [p- 121.] 
and his succeeding Emperours of Rome, and that by way ^ tr S^P 
of adulation, meaning that there should be no limitation l 
either of the bounds of their Empire, in regard it should 
be extended to the uttermost confines of the habitable 
world ; or of the time of their imperiall glory, but should 
bee immortall and last for ever. But the Duke of Mantua 
his territory is bounded within those narrow confines that 
I do not see how he can justifie the application of that 
verse to himselfe. At the left hand as you go into the 
gate, there is another statue of a woman in white stone, 
over whose head this verse of Virgil is written in Azure. 

Aggredere O magnos-, aderit jam tempus, honores. 

Likewise at the toppe of the other statue on the right 
hand this verse is written : 

Spondeo digna tuis in gentibus omnia caeptis. 



Church of S. The Church of Saint Barbara which is the fairest of the 
Citie, is but meane without, being built all with bricke, 
but within it is very exceeding beautifull having many 
faire roofes in it, especially that of the body of the Church 
which is imbossed with goodly bosses of gold, as faire 
as any I saw till that time, saving the roofe of the 
Augustinian Monkes Church in Milan. In one side of 
this Church I saw this written in faire Roman letters. 
Pius Secundus Anno Dom. 1478. Mantuae Synodum 
generalem celebravit, ut Christianorum Principum animos 
ad terrae sanctae expugnationen induceret. This Pius 
Secundus was that learned Pope which before he under- 

jEneas tooke the Papacy was called ^neas Sylvius the author of 

Silvius. t h at mO st memorable distiche : 

Non audet Stygius Pluto tentare quod audent 
effraenis Monachus, plenaque fraudis anus. 

I saw a very goodly walke in Mantua roofed over and 
supported with thirty nine faire pillars of freestone ; some 

[p. 122.] few such other walkes I saw in some places of the Citie 
which seemed unto me a great noveltie, but when I came 
afterward to Padua, it was nothing strange to me. For 
there I saw an hundred such walkes, insomuch that there 
is no streete in the whole citie but hath those kind of 
walkes adjoyning to the houses of the Citizens. 

A bridge of j observed a very stately bricke bridge at Mantua over 
the river Mincius, the longest that ever I saw till then 
(saving our famous bridge of London) which is covered 
and fairely vaulted over head, and inclosed with two faire 
bricke walls by the sides that are extended in length as 
farre as the bridge, in each of which wals there are many 
open places to looke forth into the Mincius insteed of 

Country \ observed a great multitude of country clownes that 

came the Sunday morning to Mantua that I was there, 
with strawen hats and feathers in them, and every one 
had his sithe and hooke in his hand ; belike they came 
to put themselves out to hire for harvest worke. 



The first Mountebanke that ever I saw, was at Mantua A Mounte- 
the eighteenth day of June, being Saturday, where he bank - 
played his part upon a scaffold. Of these Mounte- 
bankes I will write more at large in my observations of 

Over the gate of the Franciscans Church is to be seen 
the true statue of that famous Poet and Orator Baptista 
Mantuanus a Carmelite Frier borne in this Citie, who 
flourished Anno 1496. 

This City did once feele the smart of that cruell AttilaKing 
Hunnical King Attila his force, who miserably wasted it the Huns - 
together with many other Italian Cities, as I have already 
mentioned in my description of some of them, and shall 
againe hereafter in more. Also many yeares after that 
time Egilolphus one of the Longobardical Kings did some 
hurt unto this City, though not so much as Attila. For 
when he invaded it, the cittizens submitting themselves 
into his handes, he satisfied his fury only with throwing [p. 123.] 
downe the wals round about the city. Againe it was 
taken by force of armes above foure hundred years after 
that, by the Emperour Henry the fourth. Here died 
the Emperour Carolus Calvus of a fluxe of the belly, or 
rather with poison (as some thinke) that was given him 
by a certaine Jewish Physitian called Zedechias, whom Zedechias 
he loved very intirely, in the yeare of our Lord 872, of a Jewish 
his raigne of France the sixe and thirtieth, of his Empire p fy slctan - 
the second. This hapned shortly after his battell at 
Verona with his Nephewes Caroloman and Charles the 
second sirnamed the Bald, as I will hereafter declare in 
my description of that City. But whereas the French 
Nobles that were with him at his death meant to have 
carry ed his body forthwith into France, and to have 
interred it there, they were constrained to bury it by 
the way, by reason of the blasting thereof in the City 
of Vercellis, after they had bowelled and embalmed it. 
And therehence it was afterward brought into France, 
where they finally buried it in the Abbey of St. Denis 
amongst the French kings, as I have before mentioned. 



About five miles from Mantua in a Church dedicated 

to our Lady, which is seated upon a hill, there is to be 

scene the Tombe of another worthy Poet and Orator 

Balthasar borne in Mantua Balthasar Castilion, that wrote that most 

CastigRtme. elegant booke of the Courtier, and nourished Anno 1529. 

Thus much of Mantua. 


Departed from Mantua about eight of the clock in 
the morning on Sunday being the nineteenth day of 

Sangona. June, and came to a place called Sangona twenty miles 
beyond it (where I dined) about one of the clocke. At 
our Inne in Sangona I noted such exceeding abundance 
of flies, that they had wooden flaps to beate them away, 

[p. 124.] such as we call in Latin muscaria. For no sooner could 
a dish of meate be laid upon the table, but there would 

A plague of incontinently be a thousand flies in it, were it not for 

files. those flaps. I told my fellow travellers at dinner, that if 

the Emperour Domitian had beene now alive, and in that 
roome with us, he would have done us some pleasure 
in driving away those flies. For indeede Suetonius doth 
write in his life that about the beginning of his Empire 
he would sometimes spend a whole houre alone by 
himselfe every day, in some private roome of his Palace 
in catching of flies. 

I observed one thing in the Dukedome of Mantua, 
and some other places of Italy, that I never saw in any 
country before, that within a short space after they had 

Two crops of carryed away their corne out of the field, about some 
foure and twenty houres or such a matter, they turned 
in their stubble to sow another croppe of wheate in the 
same place. Also I saw a great deal of wheate sowen 
in the Dukedome of Mantua by the nineteenth day of 
June, and some greene wheate, which is almost a quarter 
of a yeare sooner then we have greene wheate in England. 
I saw a wondrous abundance of mulbery trees in many 
places of Italy, which have but little leaves left upon 
them, by reason that the first leaves are cropped off to 
feede the silke wormes withall. Also in many places 



both of the Dukedome of Mantua and elsewhere, I saw 
great store of Rice growing. 

I went from Sangona about three of the clocke in the LaBevelaqua. 
afternoone, and came to a place called la Bevelaqua, which 
is a parish in the Signiory of Venice, about eight of the 
clocke in the evening. Betwixt Sangona and la Bevelaqua 
is fourteene miles. 

I came to a faire Towne about some five miles on this Liniago a fair 
side la Bevelaqua called Liniago, which belongeth to the tov)n - 
Signiory of Venice, and it was the first towne that I r -i 

entred of the Venetian State. It is a faire walled towne, 
where I first saw the winged Lyon, which is the armes 
of Venice, gallantly displayed in the wals. There lived 
a Governour or Prefect of the Venetians, whose warrant 
we had before we could get forth of the towne. In 
many places of the wals I read this verse, written in faire 
Roman letters : 

Hinc abes, at tua non absunt celeberrima facta. 

By which wordes I understood some worthy Duke or 
Patritian of Venice that had beene some benefactor to 
the Towne. 

I went from la Bevelaqua about sixe of the clocke in 
the morning, the twentieth day of June being Munday, 
and came to a towne in the Signiory of Venice called E$te. 
Este, which was twelve miles beyond it about eleven of 
the clocke. From this towne the Duke of Ferrara 
derived the denomination of his family. I rode from 
Este about two of the clocke in the afternoone, and came 
to Padua, which is fifteen miles distant from it, about 
seven of the clocke in the evening. All the way betwixt 
Este and Padua I passed hard by the banke of the river 
Brenta, leaving it on the left hand. On both sides of 
this river I saw many pleasant and delectable Palaces and 
banqueting houses, which serve for houses of retraite for 
the Gentlemen of Venice and Padua, wherein they solace 
themselves in the Sommer. 



Scaliger s 
Verses on 

[p. 126.] 

Five market 

Padua built by 

My Observations of Padua. 

Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written this Decastichon upon 


HUc antiqua Deum domus Ilium, & inclyta bello 
Robora Dardanios exposuere lares : 
Decepti, patrias, non victi, amisimus oras, 

Perpetuis, res est Graeca, valere dolis. 
Qui vicere, suos ideo amisere penates : 

Ast nova sunt profugis regna parata viris. 
Arma decent Teucros, vafros sapientia Graios : 

Victis Euganeis pectus utrumque dedi. 
Regna vides Veneto Phrygiis majora minis, 

Atticaque a Patavo pectore terra capit. 

This City is seated on a very fertile and spacious plaine 
that affoordeth all manner of commodities, both for corne, 
vines, and fruits, necessary for mans sustentation. It 
hath the river Brenta, heretofore called Meduacus or 
Medoacus, running by it, and is environed with three 
strong wals that have five gates in them, and is said to 
be seven miles in compasse. It hath five market places 
that are continually exceeding well furnished with all 
manner of necessary things. Many faire stony bridges. 
It is of a round forme like Paris. The name of Padua 
is derived from the river Padus (as some thinke) which 
is not farre from it, and it is otherwise called Patavium 
quasi Padavium. This City may compare with any City 
of all Italy for antiquity, saving three, Ravenna, Volaterra 
in Hetruria, and Mantua. For it was built by Antenor, 
a famous Trojan, within a few yeares after the beginning 
of the warres betwixt the Grecians and the Trojans, and 
from him it was first called Antenorea. There is mention 
of this Antenor in many very auncient Authors, as in 
Homer in his Iliads, Dares Phrygius, and Dictys Cretensis. 
Also Virgil maketh mention of his flight from Troy and 
the warres there, and of his arrivall in these Westerne 
parts of the world, in his first 



Anterior potuit mediis elapsus Achivis 

Illyricos penetrare sinus, atque ultima tutus 

Regna Liburnorum, & fontem superare Timavi. 

Unde per ora novem vasto cum murmure mentis 

It mare praeruptum, & pelago premit arva sonanti. [p- 127-] 

Hie tamen ille urbem Patavi, sedesque locavit 

Teucrorum, & genti nomen dedit, armaque fixit 

Troja, nunc placida compostus pace quiescit. 

His monument for the greater grace and ornament of 

the City is erected publiquely in a streete, and exposed 

to the sight of every man to behold, even in the corner 

of a street neare to the Church of the Franciscan Friers. 

The tombe wherein his bones lie is made of marble, and Tomb of 

supported with foure little marble pillers ; a little without Antenor. 

it are foure very high marble pillers more, which sustaine 

a very lofty vault that is made over his monument. On 

the Tombe which containeth his bones there is written a 

Tetrastich Epitaphe in Latin for many yeares since, which 

by reason of the antiquity of the Character is not to be 

read without difficulty. But by the helpe of a certaine 

Italian Gentleman that assisted me, a Student of Padua, 

and a most excellent Scholler for the three principal! 

languages, Hebrew, Greeke, and Latin, one Signior 

Paulo ^Emylio Musto, borne in the City of Vicenza, I 

did prety well picke out the sense of the Epitaphe, though 

indeede in the first verse there are those wordes, that as 

the same Paulo ^mylio told me, few or none of the 

learnedst Schollars that come to the University can under- His Epitaph. 

stand. The Epitaphe is this : 

Inclytus Antenor patriam vox nisa quietem 

transtulit hue Enetos, Dardanidumque fugam. 
Expulit Euganeos, Patavinam condidit urbem, 
quern tenet hie tumuli marmore caesa domus. 

The wordes wherein the difficulty consisteth are these two, 
vox nisa, why vox should be the nominative case, what 
verbe is understood, and what is meant by nisa. 

But seing I have taken some occasion to glance at 



Signior Paulo ^Emylio, I will a little digresse from my 
maine discourse of Padua, and obiter speake something 
of him. Truly I perceived him to be an excellent 
Scholler, a very eloquent discourser in the Latin, a fine 
[p. 128.] Grecian, a good Poet both for Greeke and Latin verse, 
and he is esteemed in the University no meane Hebrician. 
Paulo Emilia p or h e studied the Hebrew tongue very diligently to the 
"scholar end to discourse with the learned Rabbins of the Jewes, 
whereof there are many commorant in this City, and he 
doth often so earnestly dispute with them, that he hath 
converted some of them to Christianity, as he himselfe 
told me. Besides he shewed himselfe very affable and 
courteous towards me, and desirous to embrace my 
friendship. For confirmation whereof he sent me these 
sixe Greeke verses from Padua to Venice, as a pledge 
of his love to me. 

Hv TVKI-^TI (piXitj, oj iravTcw (pepTaTe a 
Te-^viKr) a\\a. /mevei eV (ppecriv *i/u.Tepai?. 
T7 Tvvrj tjv (biXit] u> JLvpte, ecra-eTai a 
Trj Te-^vtj ^fA.uiv a(f)6iTO$ 
He TV-^JJ <pi\irj, o> ILvpie 
jj/xereoat? aei C^creTat ev 

He saith our friendship was TV^IK^ that is, accidentall, 
because our first acquaintance grew by chaunce in a 
bookebinders shop of Padua. These verses were inclosed 
in a letter that one M. George Rooke a Kentish Gentle 
man, one of principall favourites of that honourable 
Sir Henry Gentleman Sir Henry Wotton our Kings Lidger 
Ambassador in Venice, and a worthy traveller (with 
whom Signior Paulo was well acquainted) sent unto me 
to Venice with this merry inscription. To the English 
Gentleman that converteth Jewes, &c. in Venice. The 
history of which my conversion of the Jewes (being 
indeede rather a disputation with them, then a conversion 
of them, which I much both desired and endeavoured) 
I will relate in my observations of Venice. This Gentle 
man M. George Rooke used me so kindly both in Venice 



and Padua, that he hath perpetually bound me unto him 
in a very Gordian knot of friendship. Thus farre I 
thought good to make a digression from my description [p. 129.] 
of Padua for the memory sake of my two kinde and 
worthy friends Signior Paulo JEmylio, and M. George 

This citie was heretofore very faithfull to the citie of Padua 
Rome in time of warre, helping it both with money and f a ^fal to 
men : wherefore the Romanes to gratifie them for their 
kindnesse, priviledged them with such a favour as none 
of their Colonies had the like, that the Patavines should 
give their suffrages in the election of the Romane 
Magistrates as farre forth as any of the Romane Gentle 
men themselves. 

Attila King of the Hunnes, when he came out of 
Pannonia into Italy, with an exceeding huge armie, Anno 
457. and in the third yeare of the Emperour Martianus, 
was the first that sacked it, which was againe very well 
repaired by Narses the Eunuch, one of the three valiant 
Captaines of Justinian the first about the yeare 550. 
About one hundred and eighty yeares after that time 
Egilolphus the fourth King of the Longobardes wasted Padua wasted 
it with most extreme cruelty. And whereas after hee had ^ ^ 
burnt some part of it, the citizens yeelded themselves 
into his handes, hoping that we would have saved the 
rest : the barbarous tyrant though he spared the lives of 
the inhabitants, was so furiously enraged against the citie 
it selfe that he consumed with the mercilesse force of the 
fire almost all the rest of the buildings that remained in 
the citie. Then it was reedified by Charlemaine about 
the yeare 774. From that time it enjoyed peace for the 
space of almost foure hundred yeares, till the time of 
Fridericus Barbarossa, who oppugned it with great fury, Frederick 
and defaced a great part of it about the yeare 1 1 70. After Barbarossa. 
that it was swayed for the space of many yeares by the 
Carrarians, who drew their originall from Bassanum a 
towne about the Alpes not farre from Trent, till at last 
the tyrant Ezzelinus chaced them out of the city. Much 
c. c. 273 s 


cruelty did the Patavines suffer in this mans daies. For 
there is a Tower shewed in Padua to this day, wherein 

[p- !3-] they were imprisoned, tormented and cruelly slaine ; so 
great was the tyranny that he exercised upon them. But 
about the yeare of our Lord 1402, it was alienated from 
their government, and added to the Dominion of the 

Padua subject Venetians by Gattamelita that famous Captaine of Narnia 

to Venice. a f a j re c j t j e o f U m t>ria in Italy, in which was borne also 
Cocceius Nerva the thirteenth Emperour of Rome, who 
succeeded Domitian : ever since his time it hath been 
subject to the Signiorie of Venice, and so continueth to 
this day. 

The Euganean hils, which are but a little way distant 
from the west part of the citie, were heretofore by Martial 
and Catullus esteemed the very receptacle and habitation 
of the Muses ; and Constantine Palealogus the last 
Christian Emperour of Constantinople, who then raigned 
when the citie was taken by the cruell Turkes, anno 
1453, was wont to say, that except hee had read in the 
workes of holy and learned writers, whom he could not 

A Paradise, but believe, that Paradise had beene seated in the East ; 
he would otherwise thinke it could not be in any other 
place of the world but only in Padua. For indeede it is as 
sweetly seated as any place of the whole world is or can be. 
The Palace, in Latin Praetorium, which serveth for the 
Patavines as their Councell house, or as our Westminster 
hall doth us, for their publique Assemblies, and for the 
hearing and determining of controversies, is (in my 

The Palace, opinion) the fairest of all Christendome, at the least 
the fairest by many degrees that ever I saw. It 
chanced to be burned for many yeares since, but it was 
farre more magnificently reedified by the Venetians in the 
yeare 1420, after it had layne wast two hundred yeares. 
The roofe of it is covered with lead, having neyther 
pillars nor beames to support it ; onely it hath certaine 
curious and pretty little round pillars in the inside of the 
hall, made eyther of latten or rather brasse as I take it, 

[p. 131.] no bigger then a man may compasse with both his hands 



which from that part of the hall which is immediately 
above the higher part of the wall directly up to the top 
of the roofe, are placed athwart from one wall to another, 
being joyned to the roofe by the like little latten or brasse Many Pillars 
pillars, but much lesse, whereof each that goeth athwart, 
hath two reaching directly to the main roofe. Of those 
greater transverse pillars there are thirteene, and three 
besides at the ends of the Palace, whereof two are at the 
two corners of the west end, and the third at one of the 
corners of the east end ; so that of all these round pillars 
great and little there are forty two. All the walles within 
are most exquisitely painted with many curious pictures 
that expresse divers auncient Histories. The Palace is 
within the wals a hundred and tenne paces long, and forty 
broad. Besides there are two faire galleries to walke in Fair 
on both sides of the Palace without the wall, whereof Galleries. 
each is supported with twenty five pillars of white free 
stone. Also for the better gracing of this most magni 
ficent building, there are erected sixe statues in severall 
places, of worthy men that have much honoured this city, 
whereof three are of that famous Historian Titus Livius, Statues to 
who was borne and brought up in Padua : the other Livy. 
three of other worthy Patavins. At the east end of the 
Palace is erected the first of Livies statues directly over 
the Tribunall seate about the midst of the wall : he is 
pourtrayed with a white mantle before his breast, and 
that no farther then to the middle. One thing I observed 
both in that and other statues in Padua, and afterward in 
Venice, that they doe not so fully represent the fore parts Strange 
of a mans body as we doe in England, and as it is used Statuary. 
elsewhere. For they descend aslope from under their 
armes to the middle point of their middle, not setting 
forth the ribbes at large, but doe in a manner exclude 
them out of the statue. He is represented according to 
his olde age. For his face is made very leane and shaved : [p. 132.] 
directly under the statue this inscription is made in a 
little white stone, according to an auncient forme, T. Liv, 
and under the same this : 











A she wolf. Directly under this inscription the effigies of a shee 
wolfe is cut very curiously in a blacke stone, with 
Romulus and Remus sucking at her teates : and under 
neath the same these Latin verses are engraved in a blacke 
stone, with the armes of the Praetor on the left hand of 
the same, and of the Prsefectus on the right hand. 

Ossa tuumque caput, cives, tibi, maxime Livi, 
prompto animo hie omnes composuere tui. 

Tu famam aeternam Romae, patriaeque dedisti, 
huic oriens, illi fortia facta canens. 

At tibi dat patria haec, & si majora liceret, 
hoc totus stares aureus ipse loco. 

Under these verses this is cut in the same stone, 

T. Livius 4. Imperil Tiberii Cassaris anno 
vita excessit, aetatis vero suse 76. 

Againe on the left hand of the same blacke stone is cut 
[p. 133.] the Scutchin or Armes of him that was Praetor when this 
was done, and on the right hand the armes of the Prae- 
fectus. Under all this the yeare of our Lord is expressed, 
1547, for that yeare were his bones placed in that roome. 
On the right hand of the monument, a little without the 
stone is painted the face of Augustus with these words 
round about it : Divus Augustus pater patriae. On the 
left hand the face of Tiberius, with these words about 
it, Ti. Caesar Augusti films. 

On the right hand of Livies monument, a little way 
off, I read this inscription in a peece of stone in the 



inside of the Palace wall, directly over the linterne of Inscription on 



the dore ; Inclyto Alphonso Arragonum Regi, studiorum the Palace 

fautori, Reipub. Venetae faederato, Antonio Panormitano 
Poeta Legato suo orante, & Matthaeo Victurio hujus urbis 
Praetore constantissime intercedente, ex historiarum 
Parentis Titi Livii ossibus, quae hoc tumulo conduntur, 
Patavini cives brachium in munus concessere. Anno 
Christi M.CCCC li. xiiii. K. f Septembris. 

This inscription, I say, is in the inside of the Pallace 
wall over the linterne of the dore, but in the outside 
of the wall on the other side of the linterne this Epitaph 
following is written in a very ancient character which a Ancient 
man can very hardly read, so that I was holpen by a Characters. 
learned French Gentleman before I could perfectly under 
stand it. Above which Epitaph there is erected a second 
statue of Livie made in freestone which seemeth to 
represent the life of him, and to be at the least one 
thousand yeares elder then the first which is erected over 
the tribunall seate : In the same statue the full and whole The Second 
proportion of the forepart of his body as far as his middle Statue toLivy. 
is very lively presented with a kind of attire upon his 
head, pretily wrapped together, which hee wore in steed 
of a hat. In the fore part of his garment which covered 
his breast he wore pretie tassels insteed of buttons, like 
to those that our English Souldiers do weare about their 
bandeleers, in which they put their gunnepowder. These [p. 134.] 
tassels came downe athwart over his breast ; truly I did 
inwardly rejoyce to see this pourtraiture. For the 
antiquity of it did confirme a confident perswasion in 
me that it was the true effigies and resemblance of his 
living forme. The Epitaph which was under written, Livy s 

was this: ~ Epitaph.\l\ 


T. Livii Patavini, unius omnium mortalium judicio 
digni cujus prope invicto calamo invicti P.R. 
res gestae conscriberentur. 

It is thought that this ancient Epitaph together with the 
statue was translated thither from Saint Justinaes Church, 



which in time of Paganisme before Christian religion was 
planted there, was the Temple of Juno. 

The Third Also there is a third statue of Livie erected in one of 

Statue to Livy. t ^ e p a j ace wa } s over tne Hnterne of one of those dores, 
which is in the South side of the Palace in the outside of 
the wall even in the gallery. There he is pourtrayed in 
white stone as before, according to his youthfull visage 
without a beard, wearing a gowne, and a prety loose 
mantle over his head, his deske with a vice turning in it, 
and his bookes under it, stroaking his chinne with his 
right hand, and his left hand on his booke. This statue 
was erected Anno 1565, at what time for the better 
ornament of the Pallace three statues more of other 
famous Patavines were erected in the outside of the wals 
in the gallery, one in the same side where this statue of 
Livie is, and two more in the North wall opposite to it. 
The inscription under this statue of Livie is this : T. 
Livius Patavinus Historicorum Latini nominis facile 
Princeps, cui 9 lacteam eloquentiam aetas ilia, quae virtute 
pariter ac eruditione florebat, adeo admirata est, ut multi 
Romam non ut urbem pulcherrimam, aut urbis & orbis 
Dominum Octavianum, sed ut hunc unum inviserent, 
audirentque, a Gadibus profecti sunt. Hie res omnes 
quas populus Romanus pace belloque gessit, 14. Decadibus 
mira styli felicitate complexus, sibi ac patriae gloriam 
peperit sempiternam. 

[p. 135.] On the left hand of the first statue of Livie, which is 

set up at the East end of the hall above the tribunall seate 

there is erected a pretty convenient distance from it, the 

Statue of a statue of a very grave and reverend olde gentleman in 

gentleman. passing faire white stone, which is made almost to the 

middle in the same manner as Livies statue neare to it. 

The same is garnished with faire pillars of white stone 

in both sides of it ; at the front of the monument above 

his statue this Greeke verse is written in a peece of 





The Greeke is false, for it should not be "Jcrw but ra. 
Under his pourtraiture this Latin Epitaph is written in 
a square peece of white stone inserted into a peece of 
jet. Sperono Speronio sapientiss. eloquentissimo, optimo 
& viro & civi virtutem meritaque acta vita, sapientiam, 
eloquentiam declarant scripta. Under that this is written, 
Publico decreto urbis quatuorviri P. againe, this under 
that, Anno a Christo nato M.D.XCIIII. ab urbe condita 
M.M.DCCXII. last of all is written, Ant. Sardius, sculp. 
Pat. faciebat. In the South side of the Pallace wall in 
the outside there is erected about thirty five paces distance 
from Livies statue, a fair pourtraiture in white stone of Statue of 
one Albertus with a Bible in his hand formed of the same -Albert. 
stone, in one side whereof I reade this : Beati qui custo- 
diunt judicium, & faciunt justitiam in omni tempore. 
Under his pourtraiture this is written in faire Roman 
letters : Albertus pater Eremitanae religionis splendor, 
continentissimae vitae, sumpta Parisiis insula magistrali, 
in Theologia tantum profecit & profuit, ut Paulum, 
Mosen, Evangelia, ac libros Sententiarum laudatissime 
exposuerit, facundissimus eo tempore concionator, immor- 
tali memorioe optimo jure datur. 

In the North side of the Pallace wall in the outside 
thereof right over the linterne of the dore there is erected 
in white stone the statue of one Paulus a civill Lawyer 
to the middle, with a civill Law booke in each of his 
hands, and under the same this inscription. [p. 136.] 

Paulus Patavinus Jurisconsultorum clarissmus hujus 
urbis decus aeternum, Alexandri Mammeae temporibus 
floruit, ad Praeturam, Praefecturam, Consulatumque Statue of Pau 
evectus, cujusque sapientiam tanti fecit Justinianus a 
Imperator, ut nulla civilis juris particula hujus legibus 
non decoretur, qui splendore famae immortalis oculis 
posteritatis admirandus, insigni imagine hie merito 
decoratur : This statue is opposite to that of Albertus. 

In the same side of the Pallace wall in the outside 
thereof, right over the linterne of the dore, there is 
erected by as great a distance from Paulus as in the South 



Petrus side Albertus from Livie, the statue of one Petrus Aponus 
Aponus. w [fa a booke in his hand ; he was called Aponus from a 
towne within five miles of Padua called Aponum where 
there are most excellent bathes. Under this statue this 
elogium is written : Petrus Aponus Pater Philosophise 
medicinaeque scientissimus, ob idque Conciliatoris nomen 
adeptus, astrologiae vero adeo peritus, ut in magiae 
suspicionem incident, falsoque de haeresi postulatus, abso- 
lutus fuerit. 

Gesnerus in his Bibliotheca saith that this Petrus 
Aponus was called Conciliator, oblibrum ab eo scriptum, 
in quo veterum prsecepta medicorum simul connectit atque 
conciliat : this statue is opposite to that of Livie. 

All these foure stately statues erected over so many 
severall faire gates for the ornament of the Praetorium 
were made in one and the selfe same year : even Anno 
Dom. 1565. 

At the West end of the hall neare to one of the 
A Merry corners there is a very mery spectacle to be seene : there 
Spectacle, standeth a round stone of some three foote high inserted 
into the floore, on the which if any banckerout doth sit 
with his naked buttocks three times in some public 
assembly, all his debts are ipso facto remited. Round 
about the stone are written these wordes in capitall letters. 
Lapis vituperii & cessationis bonorum. I beleeve this 
to be true, because many in the Citie reported it unto 
[p. 137.] me. But belike there is a limitation of the summe that 
is owed ; so that if the summe which the debter oweth 
be above the stint, he shall not be released : otherwise it 
were great un justice of the Venetians to tollerate such 
A great a custome that honest creditors should be cousened and 
injustice, defrauded of the summe of thirty or forty thousand 
duckats by the impudent behaviour of some abject- 
minded varlet, who to acquit himselfe of his debt will 
most willingly expose his bare buttockes in that opprobi- 
ous and ignominious manner to the laughter of every 
spectator. Surely it is the strangest custome that ever 
I heard or read off, (though that which I have related 



of it be the very naked truth) whereof if some of our 
English bankrouts should have intelligence, I thinke they English 
would hartily wish the like might be in force in England. Banliru P ts - 
For if such a custome were used with us, there is no 
doubt but that there would be more naked buttocks 
shewed in the term time before the greatest Nobility 
and Judges of our land in Westminster hall, then are of 
young punies in any Grammar Schoole of England to 
their Plagosi Orbilii, that is, their whipping and severely- 
censuring Schoole-masters. 

Thus much of the Pallace. 

Amongst many other very worthy monuments and 
antiquities that I saw in Padua, the house of Titus Livius Livy s House. 
was not the meanest. For had it beene much worse 
then it was, I should have esteemed it pretious, because 
it bred that man whom I doe as much esteeme, and whose 
memory I as greatly honour as any Ethnick Historio 
grapher whatsoever, either Greeke or Latin ; having 
sometimes heretofore in my youth not a little recreated 
myselfe with the reading of his learned and plausible 
histories. But seeing I now enter into some discourse 
of Livies house, me thinks I heare some carping criticke 
object unto me, that I doe in this one point play the 
part of a traveller, that is, I tell a lye, for how is it possible [p. 138.] 
(perhaps he will say) that Livies house should stand to 
this day, since that yourselfe before have written that 
Padua hath beene eftsoones sacked, and consumed with 
fire? how cometh it to passe that Livies house should 
be more priviledged from the fury of the fire, then other 

O t J 

private houses of the City ? I answer thee that it is very 
probable, this building whereof I now speake, may be 
the very house of Livie himselfe, notwithstanding that 
Padua hath beene often razed and fired. First, for that 
the very antiquity of the structure doth signifie it is very 
ancient. For I observed no house whatsoever in all 
Padua that may compare with it for antiquity. Secondly, 
because I perceived that it is a received opinion of the 



Opinion of Citizens of Padua, and the learned men of the University 

learned men. ^ Liyie ^^ therein. Thirdly, for that I am per- 
swaded that the most barbarous people that ever wasted 
Padua, as the Hunnes and Longobardes, were not so 
voide of humanity, but that in the very middest of their 
depopulating and firing of the City, they would endevour 
to spare the house of Livie (at the least if they knew 
which was his) and to preserve it to posterity for a 
monument of so famous a man. Even as we reade that 
Alexander the Great when he destroyed the Citie of 
Thebes in Boeotia, saved the house of that incomparable 
Poet Pindarus, for the reverence that he bore to so learned 
a man. Wherefore, hoping that I have by these reasons 
in some sort satisfied the doubtful reader, I will descend 
to the description of Livies house. For the very same 
house wherein he lived with his family (as many worthy 
persons did confidently report unto me) and wrote many 
of his excellent histories with almost an incomparable and 
inimitable stile, I saw to my great joy, being in a certaine 
street as you go from the Domo, which is the Cathedrall 
Church, to the gate Saint Joanna. Now it is possessed 

[p- ! 39-] by a certaine Gentleman called Bassano, who at that time 
that I was in Padua lived at a villa that he had in the 
country, as many Gentlemen of Padua and other Cities 
of Italy doe in the Sommer time. So that I found only 
an old man and old woman in the house. The front of 

A goodly front, ft doth yeeld a goodlier shew then any auncient private 
house I could see in all Padua : it is made of passing 
faire stone, having a very faire gate which is beautified 
with goodly stone-worke on both sides and at the toppe. 
On the right hand of the gate there is erected a stony 
statue of Catus Sempronius and his wife, with very 
auncient letters ingraven in the stone under the statues, 
which devouring time hath so eaten and consumed, that 
I could understand but little of it. But this I am sure 
was at the beginning, C. Sempronius. Also in the same 
inscription I read Vxori Clodiae. And these figures, 
XXXVI. and these a little after, XXVI. On the left hand 



of the gate I saw two statues more of stone made at 
length. And a very beautifull window over the gate, A beautiful 
the head whereof was exceeding curiously wrought, and Window - 
the sides of free stone, and two faire peeces of marble 
were inserted into the window betwixt the casements. 
Also I observed in this front great variety of curious little 
marble stones cut round, and very exquisitely put into 
severall places. After I had thoroughly glutted mine 
eyes with survaying all these pleasing objects of the 
outside, I departed to another place, and when I came 
thither againe the next day, by the meanes of a kinde 
Italian I was admitted into the house ; where I saw many 
ancient monuments, and sundry Greeke and Latin 
inscriptions of great antiquity in stones : the first that 
occurred unto me after I was within the house, was in a 
fine peece of marble in great capitall letters ; VRATGRIS 
ILLYRICI. Next the effigies of a spread eagle fairely A spread 
displayed in an olde peece of free stone over the linterne ea & 
of the dore of one of the inner rooms next to the entry, 
in which stone at the corners are finely inlayed foure 
pretty little white marble stones. Over the linterne of [p- H-] 
another dore, which is right opposite unto that, were 
exactly cut in stone two Dolphins heads, with fine little 
marble stones in the same. Also another stone inserted 
into the wall, wherein were written certaine words that 
I could not reade, such was the strangenesse of the 
character. Eight prety little marble stones, partly white, 
and partly porphyrie, were inserted into that stone, 
wherein those characters were written. Besides I saw a 
stately arms of some worthy auncient Romane Gentleman Stately arms. 
(as I supposed) made in stone, with great variety of prety 
colours, and hanged up in one of the wals for a monu 
ment : a very fine paire of staires of ten greeses high, 
wherein many of the foresaid litle marble stones were 
very artificially inlayed. A very auncient litle pillar of 
free stone square, wherein were written these Greeke 
wordes in the foure sides : W^oa? in one side, <$ia{3aivoi>Tos 
in another, TOV Atvelov in the third, and Tyoo/a? d Acoen? in the 



fourth. I take this to be one of the auncientest monu 
ments of all Christendome. For I thinke that this 
inscription was made in the time of JEneas, which was 
almost one thousand two hundred yeares before the 
incarnation of Christ, even two thousand eight hundred 
yeares since. For the very wordes themselves seem to 
import so much, which I literally interpret thus : The 
end of .(Eneas passing or sayling over the sea. For 
8ia{3alviv wherehence SiafialvovTos commeth, signifieth 
to passe or saile over the Sea, especially when we crosse 
the Seas : so that when JEneas sayled from Drepanum a 
haven towne of Sicilie (where he buried his old father 
Anchises) and Lavinium in Italy, which was vepag 
that is, the full period and uttermost bound of his long 
travels, he might be very well said Siaftaiveiv that is, 
to crosse over the Seas : the passage betwixt these places 
being but a crossing of the Seas. Surely it is but probable 
enought that this might be made in the time of ^Eneas, 
who belike after he had ended so long and dangerous a 
[p. 141.] journey, was desirous to erect some kinde of monument 
to posterity, as a token of the happy consummation 
thereof, in the Greeke language, which was then the 
famousest in all the world. This beeing so remarkable 
a monument, I thinke some one of the auncient Roman 
Emperours might get it into his handes ; and so finally 
Livie being a great lover and searcher of antiquities, 
and very gracious with the Emperours Augustus and 
Tiberius, might request it of them, and bring it to his 
house to Padua. The other wordes also Tpoias aXtaa-is 
which doe signifie the taking of Troy, doe confirme a 
confident opinion in me, that it might be made in the 
time of ./Eneas, after the destruction of Troy. Upon 
the toppe of this little square pillar, wherein there was 
this Greeke inscription, there standeth another little round 
stone, about the which there was another inscription 
exceeding ancient, whereof I could not reade as much 
as one word, though the olde man of the house that 
shewed me these things desired me to reade it. The 



stone was but little, yet so heavie, that I was very hardly 
able to lift it up with all my strength. 

This worthy Elogium I reade also of Livie in the ElogyofLivy. 
same roome, written on the wall in faire Roman letters, 
neare to his faire staires : Titi Livii Patavini eximiam 
laudem ut liquide vir sanctissimus atque doctissimus 
Divus Hieronymus S. R. E. Presbyter Cardinalis in 
Prooemio Bibliorum testatur sic scribens. Ad T. Livium 
lacteo eloquentiae fonte manantem de ultimis Hispaniarum 
Galliammque finibus quosdam venisse nobiles legimus, 
& quos ad sui contemplationem Roma non traxerat, unius 
hominis fama perduxit. Habuit ilia setas inauditum 
omnibus seculis celebrandumque miraculum, ut urbem 
tantam ingressi, aliud extra urbem quaererent. Demum 
quum 76 suae aetatis annum ageret, Patavii 4. Imperii 
Tiberii Caesaris anno labori atque vitae subtractus. 

In the same wall where I read this, his picture was 
painted in white, writing in his booke, with this inscrip 
tion under it: Ti. Livius Pat. Rer. Rom. Scriptor nemini [p- H 2 -] 
profecto secundus. These foresaid inscriptions and anti 
quities I saw in the entry of his house after I came 
within the gate, and in his first court. Afterward I went 
into an other court beyond that, where I saw a faire little 
gallery with foure prety pillars of free-stone ; and many 
of those beautifull little marble stones in every place 
almost about his court : and many auncient inscriptions 
in auncient stones, inserted into the wals of his court 
round about. In one white stone I read this inscription 
in Roman letters : 

Marco Aurelo Marcellino Conjugi Dulcissimo Saufeia 
Crispina Conjux. 

After this I went farther, even into his garden, where Livy s 
I saw many other inscriptions in stone, which I could not Garden. 
understand by reason of the strangenesse of the character. 
In his garden I saw a goodly Apricock tree passing well 
laden with fruite. 

Thus much of the house of famous Titus Livius. 

[The Santo 


St. Anthony s The Santo which is otherwise called St. Antonies Church, 
Church. neare to the which many Jewes dwell, is a very beautiful! 

building, but not so faire without as within ; though 
indeede it be faire enough without, having five goodly 
turrets, whose tops are round in the forme of a globe, 
and covered with lead. As I entred into the Church-yard 
of this Santo from the Jewes street, I observed a very 
memorable matter, to wit, a very goodly brasen statue of 
Gattamelita the Captaine of the Yenetians, whom I have 
before mentioned, very loftily advanced on hors-back 
over the gate of the Church-yard. This statue is passing 
exquisitely made, according to the ful and lively propor 
tion of a man and horse : and it yeeldeth speciall ornament 
to the place. It was erected by the Venetians for a 
perpetuall memoriall sake to posterity, to the honour of 
[p- H3-] their valiant benefactor Gattamelita, because he wonne 
them this city of Padua (as I have before written) by his 
prowesse and fortitude. The Church in the inside is 
richly garnished with sumptous Tapistry, and many other 
beautimll ornaments. Divers monuments are to be seene 
St. Anthony a in this Church : but the fairest is that of St. Antony, 
Portugal a Portugall Saint, borne in the citie of Lisbon, from whom 
the Church hath his name. They told me that he lived 
in the time of S. Francis of Assisium, and was canonized 
for a Saint about the yeare 1241, by Pope Gregory the 
ninth. It is reported that his Tombe hath the vertue to 
expell Divels, which I doe hardly beleeve. For I saw 
an experiment of it when I was in the Church which came 
A Demoniac, to no effect. For a certaine Demoniacall person praied 
at the Sepulchre upon his knees, who had another 
appointed to attend him, that he should not irreligiously 
behave himselfe at so religious a place. And a Priest 
walked about the Tombe while the Demoniack was 
praying, to the end to helpe expell the divell with his 
exorcismes, but the effect thereof turned to nothing. 
For I left the fellow in as badde a case as I found him. 
The monument itselfe is very sumptuous, made all of 
marble, and adorned with most excellent imagerie. 



On the right hand of the body of the Church there 
is erected the monument of that eloquent Orator & 
Cardinal Petrus Bembus, with his statue, and under the Cardinal 
same this Epitaph is written : Petri Bembi Cardinalis Bmbo - 
imaginem Hieronymus Quirinus Ismerii films in publico 
ponendam curavit : ut, cujus ingenii monumenta aeterna 
sint, ejus corporis quoque memoria ne a posteris desid- 
eretur. Vixit annos 76. M. 7. D. 29. obiit 15. Calend. 
Februarii, Anno 1547. Many other worthy monuments 
with elegant Epitaphs I saw both in the Church and the 
Cloyster, which the shortnesse of the time of my abode 
there would not permit me to write out. Amongst others 
in the Cloyster I observed one that made me even lament, 
the monument of a certaine English Nobleman, namely [p. H4-] 
Edward Courtney, Earle of Devonshire, who was buried Edward 
there in the time of Queen Mary : he died there in his 
youth, and was the sonne of Henry Earle of Devonshire, 
and Marquesse of Exceter, who was beheaded in the 
time of King Henry the eighth. This Edward Courtney 
was afterward restored by Queene Mary. Truely it 
strooke great compassion and remorse in me to see an 
Englishman so ignobly buried. For his body lieth in a 
poore woodden Coffin, placed upon another faire monu 
ment, having neither Epitaph nor any other thing to 
preserve it from oblivion ; so that I could not have 
known it for an English mans Coffin, except an English 
Gentleman my kinde friend Mr. George Rooke, of whom 
I have before spoken, had told me of it, and shewed me 
the same. 

Neare unto the Santo, I was shewed a very pleasant 
and delectable roome, which amongst other sumptuous 
ornaments that greatly beautified it, had a great many 
exquisite pictures very artificially drawne by the curious Pictures 
hand of that Apelles of Padua Titianus. drawn by 

I saw the sumptuous, and rich Monastery of the Tlttan - 
Benedictine Monkes. I call it sumptous, because there 
is nothing but pompe and magnificence to bee scene there ; 
rich, because their yearly revenew amounteth to one 



hundred thousand Crowns, which make the summe of 

thirty thousand pounds sterling. At this time they 

bestow exceeding great charges in building, especially 

The Church of about the finishing of their Church, which is dedicated 

S. Justin. to Saint Justina, a marveilous faire building, the roofe 

whereof over the quire is very lofty, made of white stone 

in the forme of a hollow nutte, and very curiously con- 

camerated : also the pillars of the Church and most of 

the inward parts are made of white stone : at the higher 

end of the quire there is a wondrous beautiful Altar, the 

fairest that ever I saw till then. For it is decked with 

many curious pictures and exceeding high pillers made 

[p- H5-] of freestone, which are extraordinarily richly gilt. Before 

the Altar are drawen two fair curtains of crimson Taffata. 

A little without the place which incloseth the Altar, I saw 

sixe very precious sockets made indeede but of timber 

work, but flowrished over with a triple gilting ; herein 

their Tapers stood that were made of Virgins waxe. In 

Monument of this Church I saw many ancient monuments, as of Saint 

5. Luke. Luke the Evangelist, near to which is hanged up a fair 

table, wherein his Epitaph is written in Latin hexameter 

verses very elegantly. I have often repented since that 

time that I had not copied them : his bones were brought 

from Constantinople in an yron coffin which is inclosed in 

a great grate of yron, that was likewise brought from 

S. Luke s Constantinople, together with the coffin. That coffin I 

bones brought touched with my fingers, but with some difficulty: for 

Itanfinopie ** was so ^ arre w i tnm tne g ra te that I could hardly 
conveigh the tops of my fingers to the coffin. Within 
a short space after this coffin was brought to Padua, his 
bones were taken out of the olde yron coffin that came 
from Constantinople, and laide in a very sumptuous 
monument hard by, made of brasse, wherein they now 
continue. This monument is erected in the Northside 
of the Church ; right opposite unto it in the South side 
there standeth the monument of Matthias one of the 
twelve Apostles, which was substituted in the place of 
Judas Iscariot : there they say his bones are intombed. 



In a low crypta or vaulted Chappell which is directly 
under the quire, there is a faire marble monument of 
Saint Justina, a chast and devout Virgin of Padua, who s. Justina a 
in the time of one of the persecutions of the Primitive devout virgin. 
Church was cruelly murdered in this City, because she 
would not worship the Pagan Gods. The manner of her 
death is very finely expressed in one side of the Sepulchre : 
the Christian fleete got that most renowmed victory of 
the Turkish fleete under the conduct of many noble 
Wights, whereof the principall was that Heroicall Spanish [ p . I4 6.] 
worthy Don John de Austria at the famous battle of 
Lepanto in Greece upon that very day which is dedicated 
to this Saint Justina, in remembrance whereof the Vene 
tians ever since that time have written this title upon one 
of their coynes, Memor ero tui Justina Virgo : because, 
belike they attribute the cause of their victory unto her 
intercession to God for the Christians. All these foresaid 
tombs I saw, but other famous tombs also that are in the 
same Church I did not see : as of Prosdocimus, the first 
Apostle of the Patavines, of whom I wil speak hereafter ; 
of three of those Innocents that were slaine by Herode 
the Great, surnamed the Ascalonite, and of some of the 
worthy Martyrs of the Primitive Church. There belong 
unto this Monastery one hundred and fifty Monkes, 
besides many others that are servants of the house. They 
have a very fair quadrangular Cloyster ; the w^alkes are 
very long and broad : There, a man that is a lover of 
pictures, may see a pretty microcosme of them, wherewith A microcosm 
all the wals round about are most excellently adorned, of pictures. 
but no amorous conceits, no lascivious toyes of Dame 
Venus, or wanton Cupid, all tending to mortification, all 
to devotion. For there is very copiously described the 
whole History of the first founder and institutor 
of their order Saint Bennet, and his familiar parley 
with Totilas the fifth Gothicall King of Ravenna, 
unto him he truely foretold his future events, for he 
delivered this *Prophesie unto him. Multa mala facies, 

^Carion. Chroni. lib. 3. 
C. C. 289 T 





[p. 147.] 

Wine and 
bread for alms. 

The skin of a 

Romam ingredieris, novem annos regnabis, decimo mori- 
eris. These Benedictines told me that there have been 
twenty Popes of their order, (for such is the dignitie and 
supremacy that they attribute unto them, that they named 
them first) Six Emperours : twelve Kings : fourty Car 
dinals : Amongst the rest of those memorable pictures 
which are to bee seene in this Cloyster, there is one of 
the Epitaphs which is written upon Livies monument 
over the tribunall seat in the Pallace. Also I saw many 
faire high galleries & walkes by their chambers : but I 
went not into any one of their chambers, only I saw many 
of their dores, whereof each hath a little peece of wood 
conveighed over a little hole in the dore ; which peece 
of wood being turned about, the Abbot may looke 
into their Chambers to see whether they pray, or studie, 
or are otherwise employed about any religious exercise. 
These Benedictines bestow exceeding bountifull alms 
twice every yeare upon the poore, as upon Justinaes day, 
which with them is the seventh day of October, and upon 
Prosdocimus day, which is the seventh day of July. 
Their almes is twelve Cart-loades of Wine, and as many 
of bread upon each of those dayes. They have an 
exceeding faire garden to walke in for contemplation, 
wherin are many delectable walkes, vaulted with pretty 
little rafters, over the which faire vines, and other greene 
things do most pleasantly grow. These walkes are both 
long and broade : in the knots and plots of this garden 
there groweth admirable abundance of al commodious 
hearbes and flowers. Also I saw two goodly faire roomes 
within the Monastery abundantly furnished with passing 
variety of pleasant fine waters and Apothecary drugges 
that serve onely for the Monkes. In the first of these 
roomes I saw the skin of a great crocodile hanged up at 
the roofe, and another skinne of a crocodile in the inner 
roome. This crocodile is a beast of a most terrible shape, 
fashioned something like a Dragon, with wonderfull hard 
scales upon his backe. I observed that he hath no tongue 
at all ; his eyes are very litle, and his teeth long and sharp. 



Also I noted the nayles of his feet to be of a great length ; Crocodiles livt 
he liveth partly in the water, and partly in the land. wa *erand 

on land. 

For which cause the Grecians call him a^fyifiiov that is, 
a beast that liveth upon both those elements ; and hee 
liveth for the most part in Nilus that famous river of 
Egypt, the Egyptians in former times being so super 
stitious that they worshipped him for a god, especially 
those people of Egypt that were called Ombitae, who [p- H 8 -] 
consecrated certaine dayes to the honour of him as the 
Grecians did their Olympia to Jupiter ; and if it happened 
that their children were at any time violently taken away 
by him, their parents would rejoyce, thinking that they 
pleased the God in breeding that which served for his 
foode. I will also declare the etymologie of his name, 
because it doth excellently expresse his nature : hee is Why he is 
called crocodilus partly (Wo TOV SeiXiav raf Kjoo/ca? that is, ca ^ ed 
for that he is afeard of the sands of the shore. For tcpo/tr) 
doth sometimes signifie the same that a/ujuo? doth, that is, 
the sand, and partly cnro TOV o~ei\iav TOV KpoKov that is, for 
being afeard of saffron ; for which cause those amongst 
the ancient Egyptians that had the charge to looke to 
their Bees in their gardens, were wont to smeare their 
Bee hives with saffron, which as soone as the crocodile 
perceived, he would presently runne away. It is said 
that this Monastery is a mile in compasse. There died 
a certaine Turke in it within these few yeares that was A converted 
converted to Christianity, and after his conversion, he was Turk. 
so incessantly given to his devotion and prayers, as no 
man more in the whole house. 

Thus much of the Monastery of the Benedictine Monkes. 

I saw a building not farre from this Monastery where 
poore strangers that are newly come to the towne without 
any money in their purses, may have entertainment gratis 
three dayes and three nights. A very charitable and 
Christian custome. 

I went to the goodly garden of the City, that lyeth 
betwixt the Santo and the Church of St. Justina. It 



Medicinable belongeth especially to the Physitians, and is famoused 

* over most places of Christendome for the soveraigne 

vertue of medicinable hearbes. It is round like a circle, 

and yeeldeth a passing fruitfull nursery of great variety 

of hearbes and trees. Amongst the rest I saw a certaine 

[p. 149.] rare tree w hereof I have often read both in Virgil and 
other Authours, but never saw it till then. It is called 
in Latin Platanus, which word is derived from the Greeke 
word 7r\arv9 which signifieth broade, because he doth 
extend his boughes very far in breadth ; wherehence Virgil 

sait " prona surgebant valle patentes 
aerias platani, 

in English, we call it the Plane tree. It was of a goodly 
height. The Poets do faine that Jupiter dallied with 
Europa under this kinde of tree. And it was in former 
times so highly esteemed amongst the Romans by reason 
of the shadow, that they were wont sometimes to nourish 
the roote of it with wine poured about it. Also I saw a 
very prety fruit which is esteemed farre more excellent 
then Apricocks, or any other dainty fruit whatsoever 
Pistacki fruit, growing in Italy. They call it Pistachi, a fruit much 
used in their dainty banquets. They were going about 
to make a conduit in the middle of their garden when I 
was there. Those that are interessed in this garden have 
certaine lawes written for them, which you may reade 
cut in a faire marble table that is artificially inserted into 
the first gate of the garden. For the due execution 
whereof there are three learned men chosen to fine the 
offendours. These are the lawes which are written in 
Latin : 

1 Portam hanc decumanam ne pulsato ante diem Marci 

Evangelistse, ante horam XXII. 

2 Per decumanam ingressus, extra decumanam ne 


3 In viridarium scapum ne confringito, neve florem 

decerpito, ne semen fructumve sustollito, radicem 
ne effodito. 



4 Stirpem pusillam succrescentemque ne attrectato, 

neve areolam conculcato, transilitove. 

5 Viridarii injuria non afficiuntor. 

6 Nihil invito Praefecto attentato. 

7 Qui secus faxit, sere, carcere, exilio mulctator. 

I visited the Palace of the Bishop of Padua, whose name [ p . I5o .j 
is Marcus Cornelius, descended (as a Gentleman told me The Bishop s 
in the City) of the auncient and honourable family of Palace. 
the Cornelians of Rome. He was at Rome, when I was 
in Padua. In a certaine gallery of his Palace there are 
to be seene the true pictures of all the Bishops of Padua, 
from Prosdocimus the first converter of the Patavines to 
the Christian faith, to this present Bishop Marcus 
Cornelius, successively one after another, being all in 
number one hundred and nine. This Prosdocimus was 
sent from Rome by St. Peter to preach the Gospell to the 
Patavines, of whom there is mention in the Ecclesiasticall 
History. They say he built the first Christian Temple 
in the City which was dedicated to St. Sophia. His statue 
is made in free stone downe to the middle, having a long 
reverend beard, and erected in the front of a most sumptu 
ous publique Palace of the City, which belongeth only to 
him, that is the Prsefectus or Capitano of the City under 
the Duke of Venice. The present Capitano is Petrus The present 
Dodo a Clarissimo of Venice, whom I saw at Sarum about Captain of 
sixe yeares since, when he came in Ambassage to our King 
with another of the Clarissimoes of Venice, one Signior 
Molino. This publique Palace is a very auncient and 
faire building (as indeed the publique houses of this 
City are esteemed as faire as any in all Italy,) where 
amongst other antiquities I saw the auncient pictures of 
many Roman Gallants. But to returne againe to the 
Bishops Palace, I observed one very memorable thing 
there, when I came forth of the gate. For directly over 
the gate the statues of Henry the fourth, who was the last 
King of Padua, and Berta his Queene are erected, being 
made in stone unto the middle. Hereby I gather that 




Hangings of 

A curious 

this Bishops Palace, was once a Kings Palace. I was also 
in another publique Palace that belonged to the Praetor 
or Podesta of Padua, who at that time that I was in the 
City was one Thomaso Contareno a Venetian Gentleman, 
whom I saw in the Palace with other Venetian Gentlemen. 
In one of the higher rooms of this Palace I observed very 
faire hangings, the like whereof I never saw in England. 
But when I came afterward to Venice I noted great store 
of them. They are made of a prety kind of leather, and 
fairly gilt, an ornament that yeeldeth no small grace to a 
roome. In both sides of this roome there hang many 
exceeding faire halberts, which are covered with crimson 
velvet, and studded with gilt studdes. Over each of these 
halberts there hangeth likewise a target covered with like 
crimson velvet. In the next roome there are many curious 
pictures, in one whereof there is the exquisites! convey 
ance that ever I saw, which is a prety little picture drawen 
in the forme of an handkerchiefe with foure corners, and 
inserted into another very large and faire picture. The 
lesser picture is so passing cunningly handled, that the 
lower corners of it seeme either to hang loose, and to be 
a prety way distant from the ground of the maine picture, 
or to be pinned upon the other. And so will any stranger 
whatsoever conceive at the first sight thereof, as indeede 
I did, in so much that I durst have laid a great wager, 
even ten to one, that the lower corners of it had beene 
loose or pinned on. But such is the admirable, and 
methinks inimitable curiosity of the worke, that it is all 
wrought upon the very ground of the other great picture, 
as the other severall parts thereof are. In another roome 
The bed of the of the same Palace I saw the bed of the Podesta, which 
was a very sumptuous thing, neare to the which there was 
as curious a picture of Christ and the Virgin Mary, with 
the manger wherein he was laid, and the Oxe, &c. as the 
hand of any artificer ever drew. All this is very excellently 
contrived in a faire looking glasse that hangeth at the side 
of his bedde. 

After this I went to the Domo, which is the Cathedrall 




Church of Padua, an auncient thing, built by the 

Emperour Henry the fourth. In every Episcopall City 

of Italy they call their Cathedrall Church Domo, by which [p. 152-] 

they mean the principall house /car e^o^v that is 

appointed for the service of God. In this Domo of Padua 

there are many antiquities. In a low chappell or vault 

under the Quire I saw the Tombe of one Daniel a valiant Daniel a 

Martyr in the Primitive Church, and a Jew borne ; he valiant 

was martyred in one of the first persecutions, in this mart v r 

manner. Two boords were clapped on both sides of his 

body, through the which there were driven many great 

nailes into his body, because he would not worship the 

Heathen idols. The manner of his death is finely pour- 

trayed in one side of the monument in marble. In this 

Domo there is a very curious picture of the Virgin Mary, 

the first that was drawen from the first originall that 

Sainte Luke the Evangelist made, which I saw in Venice, 

as I will hereafter declare in my notes of Venice. For 

they say, he was the first that made our Ladies picture. 

This miracle is reported of this picture: that whensoever A picture that 

in the time of any drought it is carryed abroad in proces- causetA rain. 

sion, before it is brought againe into the Church 

it causeth store of raine to descend from heaven. 

What my censure is of this miracle I will speake in my 

description of Saint Markes Church in Venice, because 

there will be fit occasion ministred unto me to write 

something of it. The like is reported of Aarons 

rodde also that is kept in Paris. Of this Domo, that 

famous Poet and Orator Francis Petrarch that flour- Petrarch. 

ished Anno 1374. was once a Canon. The Canons of 

this Church are said to be the richest of all Italy. For 

each of them hath the yearlie revenues of a thousand 

crowns, which amount to three hundred pound sterling. 

There is in this City a very auncient gate built by 
Antenor of an exceeding heigth, even as high as a Church. 
This gate is in that part of the City that is called the old 
City, neare to the signe of the Starre where I lay being 
a very faire Inne, wherein I saw one thing of which I 



[p- I53-] have much read in Authours, as in the * Miscellanea of 
Angelus Politianus, &c. but never saw any of them till 
then. I have read five names for it in Latin, Tepidarium, 
Vaporarium, Sudatorium, Laconicum, Pyriaterium. In 
A hot stove. E n gli s h a stew, stove, or hot baine. They use to sweat 
in the roome where it standeth. In all Italy I saw but 
only this stove : but afterward when I came into Rhetia, 
Helvetia, high Germany, and some parts of the Nether 
lands, there is such frequent use of them in all those 
countries, especially in the winter, that I lay not in any 
house whatsoever, but it had a stove. I observed at this 
signe of the Starre a great company of Noblemens armes, 
wherewith the roome was hanged in which I dined and 
supped, no lesse than fifty five Armes of Earles, Barons, 
Counts, and worthy Gentlemen of sundry Nations and 
Provinces. The like I noted in Venice also. For it is 
much used in Italy to garnish their houses with the armes 
Houses of great men. But much more in Germany. For there, 
adorned with no t only the inside of their houses is adorned with them, 
but also the outside, especially in Innes, which have the 
walls of their courts hanged round about with Armes. 
Truely I must needs lay an imputation of great indiscre 
tion upon my selfe, in that being in so famous a University 
as this I omitted to see their Colledges, which are in 
number nine, heare their exercises and disputations, 
observe their statutes and priviledges, the foundations and 
revenues of their houses, discourse with some of their 
learned men & professors, and note such other worthy 
things as are observable in so noble an Academy. For 
my minde was so drawen away with the pleasure of other 
rarities and antiquities, that I neglected that which indeed 
was the principalest of all. Howbeit I saw one of their 
colledges without, which is but a little way distant from 
the Palace, though I had not the good fortune to go into 
it, because the gate was locked. It seemeth to be a most 
magnificent building, and is a second f Athenaeum. For 

* Cap. 8. f This was the name of a place in Rome dedicated to 
Minerva, where orators did declame, and Poets recited their poems. 



therein are read at the time of exercise all the seven [p- *54-] 
liberall sciences. This Colledge or Schoole hath a very 
stately gate at the entrance with two goodly pillars of 
white stone on each side. The golden winged Lyon which The Lion of 
is St. Marke his armes of Venice, is gallantly displayed St - Mark. 
above the gate. And againe above this Lyon a little 
beneath the toppe of the front, this most elegant poesie 
is written in Capitall blacke letters upon a ground of 
gold. But in my opinion it had beene much more laud 
able, if the ground had beene blacke, and the letters 
golden. For indeede it is a very golden poesie. Sic 
ingredere ut teipso quotidie doctior, sic egredere ut patriae 
Christianaeque reipub. utilior evadas. Ita demum gym 
nasium se fceliciter ornatum existimabit. Joannes 
Cornelius Praetor & Antonius Priolus Prefectus, Anno 
salutis C!D. lo. c. Directly under that I read this inscrip 
tion : Gymnasium omnium disciplinarum Principe Pas- 
chale Ciconia. Praesidibus loanne Superantio Equite, & 
Federico Sanuto. Reformatoribus loanne Francisco 
Priolo, Zacharia Contareno, Leonardo Donate Equite. 
Instauratum Anno M.D.XCI. 

In another part of the front this is written a prety 
distance from the rest, in two severall groundes of gold 
one above another, In the higher, this in great and 
capitall Romane letters : loannes Baptista Bernardus 
Praetor & Leonardus Mocenicus Praefectus. In the lower 
this, Hanc gymnasii partem vetustate deformatam, in 
meliorem faciem a fundamentis restituerunt. lacobo 
Fuscareno Equite & Procuratore Hieronymo Capello, 
loanne Delphino Equite & Procuratore Gymnasii Modera- 
toribus. Anno Salutis cio, 

I heard that when the number of the Students is full, 1 500 students 
there are at the least one thousand five hundred here : " Padua. 
the principall faculties that are professed in the University, 
being physicke and the civill law : and more students of 
forraine and remote nations doe live in Padua, then in 
any one University of Christendome. For hither come 
in, many from France, high Germany, the Netherlands, [p. 155.] 



England, &c. who with great desire flocke together to 
Padua for good letters sake, as to a fertile nursery, and 
sweete emporium and mart town of learning. For 
Many learned indeed it hath bred many famous and singular learned 
m ^ n - men within these hundred yeares, and a little more, as 

Raphael Regius, Raphael Fulgosus, Francis Zabarella, 
Francis Robertellus, Lazarus Bonamicus, Christopher 
Longolius, Hieronymus Fracastorius, Scipio Cartero- 
machus, and many more that have greatly beautified 
the Common-weale of learning. 

One thing I must needs speake of Padua, together 
with the rest, that as it is both a great commodity and 
ornament to the citie ; so also it is the rarest thing that 
ever I saw in any place, neyther do I thinke that any 
citie of Christendome hath the like. 

Vaulted There is no street that I saw in the whole citie, but hath 

walks. f a } r vau lted * walks in the same, which are made in this 

manner : There is a long rowe or range of building that 
extendeth itselfe in length from one end of the street to 
the other, and is inserted into the walls of the houses of 
the same streete. In many places it is some twelve foote 
high, being arched at the roofe, and about five foote 
broad, that two may well walke together in it. The 
edge or extremity of this walke is garnished with faire 
broad pillars of free-stone, being some foure foote distant, 
and having an Arch or vault betwixt each couple : these 
walkes doe yeelde the citizens two singular commodities : 
Cool in the one, that in the Summer time they may walke there 

summer, tiry in very coolely even at noone, in the very hottest of all the 
canicular dayes, as under a pleasant and safe shelter, from 
the scorching heate of the sunne : the other that in the 
winter they defend them both from the injury of the raine 
(for in these they may walk abroad farre from their houses 
dry in the middest of a violent storme) and not a little 
[p. 156.] from the byting colde, the force whereof they will more 
feele in the open streetes. Besides, as I said before, it 

* These walkes in most places are made in both sides of the street, 
which doe very much beautifie the same. 



is a great ornament to the Citie. For indeed it doth 
greatly adorne and decke the streetes beyond all compari 
son of any other Italian citie. The first Jewes that I A multitude oj 
saw in all Italy were in Padua, where there is a great JewiinPadua. 
multitude of them. 

There is one speciall thing wanting in this citie, which 
made me not a little wonder ; namely, that frequency 
of people which I observed in the other Italian cities. 
For I saw so few people here, that I thinke no citie of 
all Italy, France or Germany, no, nor of all Christendome 
that countervaileth this in quantity, is lesse peopled : so 
that were the students removed, the number of whom 
is sometimes about one thousand five hundred (as I have Scarcity of 
before written) this citie would seeme more then halfe P e P^- 
desolate : yet their Praetorium or Senate house that I have 
before described, I observed sometimes to be pretty well 
frequented with people. It was tolde me, having 
inquired the reason of this scarcity of inhabitants, that 
most of the nobler Patavine families doe live out of the 
citie, partly in Venice, and partly in their villaes and 
Palaces of retrait in the countrey, and doe very seldome 
make their aboad in Padua. But the reason why they 
abandon the citie, and preferre other places before it, no 
man told me. 

In that I have written more copiously of Padua than 
of any other Italian citie whatsoever saving Venice, I do 
thankefully attribute it to two English Gentlemen that Two English 
were then commorant in Padua when I was there, Mr. gentlemen. 
Moore Doctor of Physicke, and Mr. Willoughby a 
learned Student in the University, by whose directions 
and conducting of me to the principall places of the citie, 
I ingenuously confesse I saw much more then otherwise [p- 15 7-] 
I should have done by mine owne endevours. And so 
finally with a gratefull mention of their names, for their 
courtesie shewed unto me in a forraine nation farre from 
my countrey, I conclude my discourse of Padua. 

Thus much of Padua. 



Made my aboad in Padua three whole dales, Tuesday 
being the eleventh of June, Wednesday and Thursday, 
and went away therehence in a Barke downe the river 
Brenta the twenty fourth of June being Friday, about 
seven of the clocke in the morning, and came to Venice 
about two of the clocke in the afternoone. Betwixt 
The River Padua and Venice it is five and twenty miles. This River 
Brenta. Brenta is very commodious for the citizens of Padua. 
For they may passe forth and backe in a Barke downe 
the river from Padua to Venice, and from Venice againe 
to Padua very easily in the space of foure and twenty 
houres. When they go to Venice they passe downe the 
River secundo cursu ; when they returne they go adverse 
flumine, their Barke being drawne with horses all the 
way betwixt Lucie Fesina and Padua, which is twenty 

Pleasure When I passed downe the River to Venice I saw many 

goodly faire houses and Palaces of pleasure on both sides 
of the River Brenta, which belong to the Gentlemen of 

When I came to the foresaid Lucie Fesina, I saw Venice, 

and not before, which yeeldeth the most glorious and 

heavenly shew upon the water that ever any mortal eye 

beheld, such a shew as did even ravish me both with 

delight and admiration. This Lucie Fesina is at the 

uttermost point and edge of the lande, being five miles 

on this side Venice. There the fresh and salt water would 

meete and be confounded together, were it not kept 

asunder by a sluce that is made for the same purpose, 

over which sluce the Barkes that go forth and backe 

Barks lifted betwixt Padua and Venice, are lifted up by a certaine 

by a crane. cranei At this Lucie Fesina, I went out of my barke, 

and tooke a Gondola which brought me to Venice. Of 

[p. 158.] these Gondolas I will write hereafter in my description 

of Venice. 



The Number of Miles betwixt Odcombe, in Somerset- Number of 
shire, and Venice : in which Account I name onely a l " betmxt 

<- it /", Odcombe and 

few principal! Cities. Venice 

IMprimis, betwixt Odcombe and London - 106 

Item, betwixt London and Dover 57 

Item, betwixt Dover and Calais 27 

Item, betwixt Calais and Paris 140 

Item, betwixt Paris and Lyons 240 

Item, betwixt Lyons and Turin 130 

Item, betwixt Turin and Milan 76 

Item, betwixt Milan and Padua 151 

Item, betwixt Padua and Venice 25 

The total summe betwixt Odcombe and Venice is 952 
Betwixt Calais and Venice 762 

My Observations of the most glorious, peerelesse, 
and mayden Citie of Venice : I call it mayden, 
because it was never conquered. 

Julius Caesar Scaliger hath written these Verses upon Scaligers 

Venice verses upon 


PErvia Barbaricis tellus OEnotria turmis 
Pertulit impositi pondera dira jugi. 
Ipsa suos flevit populares Roma Quirites : 

Sensit & indomitae noxia tela manus. 
Haud tulit hoc Genius, cujus fatalibus ausis r -, 

Tutior in medio Roma renata mari est. 
Clara virum virtus animo, insatiata cupido 

Imperii, vastae non numerantur opes. 
Juppiter, haud temere tua sunt ita dissita cceli 

Moenia, si possent tangere, parte cares. 

I heard in Venice that a certaine Italian Poet called 
Jacobus Sannazarius had a hundred crownes bestowed 
upon him by the Senate of Venice for each of these 
verses following. I would to God my Poeticall friend 
Mr. Benjamin Johnson were so well rewarded for his 



Poems here in England, seeing he hath made many as 
good verses (in my opinion) as these of Sannazarius. 

Viderat Adriacis Venetam Neptunus in undis 
Stare urbem, & toto ponere jura mari : 

Nunc mihi Tarpeias, quantumvis Juppiter, arces 
Objice, & ilia tui moenia Martis, ait. 

Si pelago Tybrim praefers, urbem aspice utramque, 
Illam homines dicas, hanc posuisse Deos. 

The same Poet made this distich upon the winged Lyon, 
which is the armes of Venice. 

Romanas Aquilae postquam liquere cohortes, 
Magnanimus turmas ducit in arma Leo. 

An elegant Also I have read this most elegant Dialogue betwixt one 
dialogue. anc } st. Marke. 

A. Die antique senex, Venetae quis conditor urbis? 
B. Juppiter. A. unde arces? B. Attica. A. Scorta? 

B. ven 9 . 
A. Moenia? B. Neptunus. A. Nummi? B. Dis. 

A. Bellica? B. Mavors. 

A. Artes? B, Mercurius. A. Jura? B. Minerva 
Non mirum est, si alias inter caput extulit urbes, 

Quam tot ccelestes composuere deae. 
Quin cum tot simul hanc, solus Vulcanus Olympi 

Sedes ; Hie credo cesserit aula Jovi. 
Verum ego cum possem ccelum conscendere, dixi : 
Mutato hie potius corpore, marmor ero. 

Though the incomparable and most decantated majestie 
of this citie doth deserve a farre more elegant and curious 
[p. 1 60.] pensill to paint her out in her colours then mine. For 
I ingenuously confesse mine owne insufficiency and un- 
worthiness, as being the unworthiest of ten thousand to 
describe so beautifull, so renowned, so glorious a Virgin 
(for by that title doth the world most deservedly stile her) 
because my rude and unpolished pen may rather staine 



and eclipse the resplendent rayes of her unparalleled / praise of 
beauty, then adde any lustre unto it : yet since I have Vemce - 
hitherto continued this slender and naked narration of my 
observations of five moneths travels in forraine countries ; 
this noble citie doth in a manner chalenge this at my hands, 
that I should describe her also as well as the other cities 
I saw in my journey, partly because shee gave me most 
loving and kinde entertainment for the space of sixe 
weeks, which was the sweetest time (I must needes 
confesse) for so much that ever I spent in my life ; and 
partly for that she ministered unto me more variety of 
remarkable and delicious objects then mine eyes ever 
survayed in any citie before, or ever shall, if I should 
with famous Sir John Mandevil our English Ulysses 
spend thirty whole yeares together in travelling over 
most places of the Christian and Ethnicke world. There 
fore omitting tedious introductions, I will descend to the 
description of this thrise worthie citie : the fairest Lady, 
yea the richest Paragon and *Queene of Christendome. 

Such is the rarenesse of the situation of Venice, that 
it doth even amaze and drive into admiration all strangers 
that upon their first arrivall behold the same. For it is 
built altogether upon the water in the innermost gulfe 
of the Adriatique Sea which is commonly called Gulfo di Venice 3 miles 
Venetia, and is distant from the maine Sea about the space f rom sea - 
of 3 miles. From the which it is divided by a certaine 
great banke called litto maggior, which is at the least fifty 
miles in length. This banke is so necessary a defence 
for the Citie, that it serveth in steed of a strong wall to 
repulse and reverberate the violence of the furious waves 
of the Sea. For were not this banke interposed like a 
bulwarke betwixt the Citie and the Sea, the waves would [p- 161.] 
utterly overwhelme and deface the Citie in a moment. 
The forme of this foresaid banke is very strange to 

* I call her not thus in respect of any soveraignty that she hath over 
other nations, in which sense Rome was in former times called Queene 
of the world, but in regard of her incomparable situation, surpassing 
wealth, and most magnificent buildings. 



A great ^ bank behold. For nature herselfe the most cunning mistres 
and architect of all things hath framed it crooked in 
forme of a bow, and by the Art of man there are five 
Ostia, that is mouthes, or gappes made therein, whereof 
each maketh a haven, and yeeldeth passage to the ships 
to saile forth and backe to Venice. The names of them 
are Malomocco (which is the fairest) a place well furnished 
with houses, and much inhabited with people, Brondolo, 
Chioggia, Saint Erasmo, Castella. Now that whole space 
which is betwixt this banke and the continent, (which 
where it is nearest, is five miles from Venice at a place 
called Lucie Fesina above mentioned) is the same which 
we call Gulfo di Vinetia, or the * lakes of the Adriatique 
sea, in which space are to be seene many fennes, marishes, 
and other dry places, whereof some are covered altogether 
with reedes and flagges, others doe shew like faire little 
greene Islandes, which are the very places that yeelded 
harbour to divers companies of people, that in the time 

Fens a safe of the Hunnes, Goths, and Vandals devastation and 

refuge. depopulation of Italy repaired thither with their whole 

families as to a safe refuge and Sanctuary for the better 
security of their lives, the greatest part of them that made 
their habitation in these lies being the bordering people 
that dwelt partly in the townes and villages by the sea 
shore, and partly in the inland Cities of Padua, Vicenza, 
Aquileia, Concordia, Lauretto, &c. The first place of Venice 

The Rialto t h a t W as inhabited, is that which now they call the Rialto, 
first inhabited. W j 1 j c } 1 wor( j j s derived from rivus altus, that is, a deepe 
river, because the water is deeper there then about the 
other Islands. And the first that dwelt in the same 
Rialto was a poore man called Joannes Bonus, who got his 
living there by fishing. After this many repaired unto 

* These lakes are fed and maintained, partly by the Sea water that 
passeth thorough the five gaps or mouths before mentioned, and partly 
by the rivers which issue out of the Alpes, who having passed through 
Lombardy do at last exonerate themselves into this gulfe. The prin- 
cipallest are these : The Po, which bringeth 30 rivers more with him at 
the least before he commeth into these lakes, the Athesis, the Brenta, 
and the Bachilio. 



this mans house for the safety of their lives in the time [p. 162.] 

of Radagisus King of the Goths, who with a huge armie Radagisus 

of two hundred thousand men invaded Italy, wasting it King of the 

extremely with fire and sword, till at last being taken at Goths - 

Phsesulae, a place neare to Florence by the Consull Stillico, 

in the eighteenth yeare of the raigne of Honorius the 

Emperour, and Anno Christi foure hundred and nine, he 

was hanged for his barbarous cruelty. About five yeares 

after the death of Radagisus, came Alaricus another 

Gothicall King into Italy, and very grievously sacked the The country 

country, so that more of the landed inhabitants were sa ^ e ^h 

constrained to retire themselves into these lakes, where 

they built twenty toure little poore cottages upon some 

of the little islands, or rather upon that one island neare 

to the Rialto. Againe not long after this, even shortly 

after the death of Alaricus came that Flagellum Dei, that 

scourge of God into Italy, Attila, King of the Hunnes, 

and spoyled the country with marvailous hostility in the 

time of the Emperour Martian. Great was the ruin of 

Italy in this mans time, who utterly overthrew Aquileia, 

Milan, Padua, and many other goodly cities, levelling the 

same with the ground. Wherefore unto those that did 

inhabite divers islands of these lakes, were sent many 

more from Padua, who laide the first foundation of this Venice 

glorious citie on the five and twentieth day of May about f ounde ^ 

noone, in the yeare foure hundred fifty seven, and the 

third yeare of the Emperour Martian. And for the 

better performance of this noble enterprise there were 

chosen three Consuls by the Citizens of Padua, that had 

the principal charge over all the rest, whose names were 

Thomas Candianus, Albertus Faletrus, Zenus Daulus. 

As for the name of the Citie it is derived from a province 

or territory called Venetia. For that part of Lombardie 

which is now called Marca Tarvisina, had heeretofore the 

I follow the computation of learned Melancthon, though I know 
that some do reduce the time of the foundation of it to the yeare foure 
hundred twenty one, as Sabellicus, &c. So that there is thirty sixe yeares 
difference betwixt the computation of Melancthon and other writers. 

C. C. 305 U 


[ P . 163.] 

The name of 

The Grand 


Flat roofs 
generally used 
in Italy. 

name of Venetia, which worde is altered from the auncient 
name by the addition of the letter v ; for the olde name 
was Enetia, which came from the word Eneti a people of 
Paphlagonia that accompanied Antenor in his whole 
voyage betwixt their country and the citie of Padua, 
which he afterward built. Wherefore because there was 
a transmigration of all the principall families of the terri 
tories of Venetia unto this new founded citie, they 
thought it meete to impose the name of Venetia (before 
time proper onely to a province) upon the citie, after 
which time the province lost his name, and the citie hath 
ever since retained it to this day. Thus much for the 
first originall and name of Venice. 

The City is divided in the middest by a goodly faire 
channell, which they call Canal il grande. The same is 
crooked, and made in the form of a Roman S. It is in 
length a thousand and three hundred paces, and in breadth 
at the least forty, in some places more. The sixe parts of 
the City whereof Venice consisteth, are situate on both 
sides of this Canal il Grande. The names of them are 
these, St. Marco, Castello, Canareio, that lie on one side 
of it, and those on the other side are called St. Polo, 
St. Croce, Dorso Duro. Also both the sides of this 
channel are adorned with many sumptuous and magni 
ficent Palaces that stand very neare to the water, and 
make a very glorious and beautifull shew. For many 
of them are of a great height three or foure stories high, 
most being built with bricke, and some few with faire 
free stone. Besides, they are adorned with a great 
multitude of stately pillers made partly of white stone, 
and partly of Istrian marble. Their roofes doe much 
differ from those of our English buildings. For they 
are all flat and built in that manner as men may walke 
upon them, as I have often observed. Which forme of 
roofing is generally used in all those Italian Cities that 
I saw, and in some places of France, especially in Lyons, 
where I could not see as much as one house but had a 
flat roofe. The like whereof I have read to have beene 



used in auncient times in Jerusalem, and other Cities of [p- l6 4-] 
Judaea. Which I partly gather by a speech of our 
f Saviour Christ, when as sending his twelve Apostles to 
preach in Judaea, he commanded them that what they 
heard in the eare they should preach on the houses. 
Whereby I understand that the roofes of their houses 
were flat like these of the Venetian buildings. Moreover 


their tiling is done after another manner then ours in Hollow tiling. 

England. For they lay it on hollow, but we flat. Many 

things I observed in these Venetian Palaces, that make 

them very conspicuous and passing faire ; amongst the 

rest these two things especially. Every Palace of any Walks 

principall note hath a prety walke or open gallery betwixt between the 

the wall of the house and the brincke of the rivers banke, P a aces and 

the edge or extremity whereof is garnished with faire 

pillers that are finely arched at the top. This walke 

serveth for men to stand in without their houses, and 

behold things. Suetonius calleth these kinde of open 

galleries Podia. Truly, they yeeld no small beauty to 

their buildings. Againe, I noted another thing in these 

Venetian Palaces that I have very seldome seen in 

England, and it is very little used in any other country 

that I could perceive in my travels, saving only in Venice 

and other Italian Cities. Somewhat above the middle of 

the front of the building, or (as I have observed in many 

of their Palaces) a little beneath the toppe of the front 

they have right opposite unto their windows, a very 

pleasant little tarrasse, that jutteth or butteth out from Terraces 

the maine building : the edge whereof is decked with jutting from 

many prety litle turned pillers, either of marble or free e ? tn 

^ I-TM i i r i i buildings. 

stone to leane over. Inese kmde or tarrasses or little 
galleries of pleasure Suetonius calleth Meniana. They 
give great grace to the whole edifice, and serve only for 
this purpose, that people may from that place as from a 
most delectable prospect contemplate and view the parts 
of the City round about them in the coole evening. 
Withall I perceived another thing in their buildings, which 

t Matt. 10, 27. 


Houses built on 


[p. 165.] as it is the rarest thing that ever I saw in my life, so I 
hold it convenient to be mentioned in this discourse. The 
foundations of their houses are made after a very strange 
manner. For whereas many of them are situate in the 
water, whensoever they lay the foundation of any house 
they remove the water by certaine devices from the place 
where they lay the first fundamentall matter. Most 
commonly they drive long stakes into the ground, without 
t h e w hich they doe aggerere molem, that is, raise certaine 
heapes of sand, mudde, clay, or some other such matter 
to repell the water. Then they ramme in great piles of 
woodde, which they lay very deepe, upon the which they 
place their bricke or stone, and so frame the other parts 
of the building. These foundations are made so exceed 
ing deep, and contrived with so great labour, that I have 
heard they cost them very neare the third part of the 
charge of the whole edifice. But all the houses of the 
City are not founded with this difficulty. For those that 
are built upon the middle of the Islands, or any other 
part thereof, saving only upon the brincks, or in the 
very water it selfe, are founded in that manner as other 
houses are upon the maine land. These kinde of founda 
tions thus made upon piles, I have both read and heard 
to be contrived in the like manner both at the noble 
towne of Amsterdam in Holland, and at Stockholme the 
Metropolitan City of Suethland, most of the buildings 
of which Cities are founded like to these of the Venetian 
houses. But to returne againe to the Canal il grande 
wherehence I digressed, it is said there are in the City 
of Venice at the least a hundred and twenty goodly 
Palaces, the greatest part whereof is built upon the sides 
of this great Channel. So that if you will take a view 
of the fairest Palaces that the whole City yeeldeth, you 
must behold these Palaces of the Canal il grande, either 
from the Rialto bridge, or passing in a little Boate which 
they call a Gondola (which I will hereafter describe) 

[p. 1 66.] through the Channel it selfe. For this place presenteth 
the most glorious buildings of all Venice, saving the 


and Stockholm 
built on piles. 


Dukes Palace that adjoyneth to St. Marks Church, and 
some other magnificent fronts of St. Marks streete. 
Amongst the rest I observed two passing sumptuous Two 
Palaces, situate upon the sides of this Canal il grande, 5um P tuous 
whereof, the one was newly built by the last Duke ^ a 
Marino Grimanno the Predecessor of Leonardo Donato, 
who then possessed the Dukedome when I was in Venice, 
which maketh an exceeding goodly shew, and consisteth 
all of milke white free stone, and very costly pillars. 
The other is that Palace wherein Henry the third of that 
name King of France lay, Anno 1574, at what time after 
the death of his brother Charles the ninth, he came out 
of Polonia, and tooke Venice in his way home into 

There is only one bridge to go over the great channell, 
which is the same that leadeth from St. Marks to the 
Rialto, and joyneth together both the banks of the 
channell. This bridge is commonly called Ponte de The bridge of 
Rialto, and is the fairest bridge by many degrees for one Rtalto. 
arch that ever I saw, read, or heard of. For it is reported 
that it cost about fourescore thousand crownes, which doe 
make foure and twenty thousand pound sterling. Truely, 
the exact view hereof ministred unto me no small matter 
of admiration to see a bridge of that length (for it is two 
hundred foote long, the channell being at the least forty 
paces broade as I have before written) so curiously com 
pacted together with one only arch ; and it made me 
presently call to minde that most famous bridge of the 
Emperour Trajan, so celebrated by the auncient historians, Trajan s 

especially that worthy Greeke Authour Dion Cassius, ^idge over the 

i i i 1 -i i T^V L- 1 Danube. 

which he built over the river Danubms, to enter the 

country of Dacia, now called partly Walachia, and partly 
Transilvania, when he waged warre with Decebalus King 
thereof. For the same Authour writeth that the foresaid 
bridge being built all of squared stone, contayned twenty [p. 167.] 
arches, whereof each was a hundred and fifty foote high, 
threescore broade, and the compasse of each arch betwixt 
the pillars comprehended one hundred and threescore 



An arch foote. But this incomparable one-arched bridge of the 
greater than Ri a } to doth farre excell the fairest arch of Trajans both 
in length and breadth. For this is both forty foote longer 
then any arch of his bridge was, and a hundred foote 
broader, as I will anon declare in the more particular 
description thereof. But in height I beleeve it is a little 
inferiour to the other. For the comparing of both which 
bridges together in respect of the breadth & length of 
their arches, I have thought good to make mention 
(neither I hope altogether impertinently) of the said 
Emperours bridge in this place. But now I will proceede 
with the description of this peerelesse bridge of Venice. 
It was first built but with timber (as I heard divers 
Venetian Gentlemen report) but because that was not 
correspondent to the magnificence of the other parts of 
the City, they defaced that, and built this most sumptuous 
bridge with squared white stone, having two faire rowes 
Shops on the of prety little houses for artificers, which are only shops, 
bridge. not dwelling houses. Of these shops there are two rowes 
in each side of the bridge till you come to the toppe. 
On that side of this bridge which is towards St. Marks, 
there are ten severall ascents of staires to the toppe, on the 
other side towards the Rialto twelve ascents. Likewise, 
behind these shops there are very faire staires to the toppe, 
which doe reach in length from the backside of them to 
the farthest edge of the bridge. Of these staires behind 
the shops there are foure paire, two behind the two rowes 
of the shops in one side of the bridge, and as many in 
the other side, each degree of staires containing five and 
fifty greeses or steps. Moreover this bridge hath two 
very faire terrasses or railes made at the edge of the same 
on both sides, to the end to leane over and behold the 
[p. 1 68.] goodly buildings about the Canal il grande, each whereof 
hath sixe severall partitions at every ascent, each partition 
containing nine little turned pillers of white stone. And 
at the toppe are two partitions more on the plaine walke, 
which is two and thirty paces long, that is, an hundred 
and sixty foote. For so much is the breadth of the bridge. 



So that each side of the bridge containeth fourteene 

severall stony railes or partitions in all, whereof sixe make 

one ascent, sixe more another, and two are upon the plain 

walke at the toppe. All the partitions on both sides being 

in number eight and twenty, and all the pillers two 151 pillars. 

hundred fifty and two. At the toppe of the bridge 

directly above those rowes of buildings that I have 

spoken of, wherein the artificers shops are, there are 

advanced two faire arches to a prety convenient heigth 

which doe greatly adorne the bridge. In those arches I 

saw the portraiture of the heads of two Hunnicall Gyants 

that came into Italy with King Attila, very exactly made 

in the inside of the toppe. 

There are in Venice thirteen ferries or passages, which Ferries called 
they commonly call Traghetti, where passengers may be Traghetti. 
transported in a Gondola to what place of the City they 
will. Of which thirteene, one is under this Rialto bridge. 
But the boatmen that attend at this ferry are the most 
vicious and licentious varlets about all the City. For if a 
stranger entereth into one of their Gondolas, and doth 
not presently tell them whither he will goe, they will 
incontinently carry him of their owne accord to a religious vicious 
house forsooth, where his plumes shall be well pulled boatmen. 
before he commeth forth againe. Then he may afterward 
with Demosthenes buy too dear repentance for seeing 
Lais, except he doth for that time either with Ulysses 
stop his eares, or with Democritus pull out his eyes. 
Therefore I counsaile all my countrimen whatsoever, 
Gentlemen or others that determine hereafter to see 
Venice, to beware of the Circaean cups, and the Syrens 
melody, I meane these seducing and tempting Gondoleers 
of the Rialto bridge, least they afterward cry Peccavi [p. 169.] 
when it is to late. For 

facilis descensus Averni, 

Noctes atque dies patet atri janua Ditis. 

Besides they shall finde the iniquity of them to be such, 

Virgil. ^Enei. 6. 
3 11 


that if the passenger commandeth them to carry him to 
any place where his serious and urgent businesse lies, 
which he cannot but follow without some prejudice unto 
him, these impious miscreants will either strive to carry 
him away, maugre his hart, to some irreligious place 
whether he would not goe, or at the least tempt him with 
their diabolicall perswasions. 

The Rialto which is at the farther side of the bridge 
as you come from St. Marks, is a most stately building, 
The building being the Exchange of Venice, where the Venetian 
f the Gentlemen and the Merchants doe meete twice a day, 

betwixt eleven and twelve of the clocke in the morning, 
and betwixt five and sixe of the clocke in the afternoone. 
This Rialto is of a goodly heigth, built all with bricke as 
the Palaces are, adorned with many faire walkes or open 
f galleries that I have before mentioned, and hath a prety 
quadrangular court adjoyning to it. But it is inferiour 
to our Exchange in London, though indeede there is a 
farre greater quantity of building in this then in ours. 
In one of the higher roomes which belongeth only to the 
State, there is kept wondrous abundance of treasure, 
which I will hereafter relate in my description of St. 
Marks, because there I shall take occasion to speak some 
thing of it. 

Each street hath many severall bridges, some more, 

some lesse, whereof most are stony, and those vaulted 

^Q bridges in with one Arch. The whole number of them is said to 

Venice. b e foure hundred and fiftie. Almost every channell 

(whereof there are about seventy two, even as many as 

doe answere the number of the Islands whereon the citie 

is built) hath his land street joyning to it, which is fairely 

[p. 170.] pitched or paved with bricke, and of so convenient a 

breadth some few of them are, that five or sixe persons 

may walke together there side by side, and some are so 

narrow, that but two can walke together, in some but one. 

Also in many places those land streetes are in both sides 

of the channell, in some in one side onely, in some few 

t Podia. 



in neither. Moreover there are other little streetes called 

Calli, which we may more properly call land streets then Land streets. 

the other, because they are made in the maine land of the 

Islands farre from the channels. These also are paved 

with bricke as the others are : but many of them are much 

narrower then those by the channels. For I have passed 

through divers of them which were so narrow, that two 

men could not without some difficultie walke together in 

one of them side by side. 

The channels (which are called in Latin euripi or The channels. 
aestuaria, that is, pretty little armes of the Sea, because 
they ebbe and flow every sixe houres) are very singular 
ornaments to the citie, through the which they runne even 
as the veynes doe through the body of a man, and doe 
disgorge into the Canal il grande, which is the common 
receptacle of them all. They impart two principall com 
modities to the citie, the one that it carryeth away all the 
garbage and filthinesse that falleth into them from the 
citie, which by meanes of the ebbing and flowing of the 
water, is the sooner conveighed out of the channels, though 
indeede not altogether so well, but that the people doe 
eftsoones adde their owne industry to dense and purge 
them : the other that they serve the Venetians instead of 
streetes to passe with farre more expedition on the same, 
then they can do on their land streetes, and that by certaine 
little boates, which they call Gondolas the fayrest that Gondolas. 
ever I saw in any place. For none of them are open 
above, but fairly covered, first with some fifteene or 
sixteene little round peeces of timber that reach from 
one end to the other, and make a pretty kinde of Arch 
or vault in the Gondola; then with faire blacke cloth [p. 171.] 
which is turned up at both ends of the boate, to the end 
that if the passenger meaneth to be private, he may draw 
downe the same, and after row so secretly that no man 
can see him : in the inside the benches are finely covered 
with blacke leather, and the bottomes of many of them 
together with the sides under the benches are very neatly 
garnished with fine linnen cloth, the edge whereof is laced 



with bonelace : the ends are beautified with two pretty 
and ingenuous devices. For each end hath a crooked 
thing made in the forme of a Dolphins tayle, with the 
fins very artificially represented, and it seemeth to be 
Watermen tinned over. The Water-men that row these never sit 
always stand. as ours do j n L on d on , but alwaies stand, and that at the 
farther end of the Gondola, sometimes one, but most 
commonly two ; and in my opinion they are altogether 
as swift as our rowers about London. Of these Gondolas 
they say there are ten thousand about the citie, whereof 
sixe thousand are private, serving for the Gentlemen and 
others, and foure thousand for mercenary men, which get 
their living by the trade of rowing. 

The fairest place of all the citie (which is indeed of 
that admirable and incomparable beauty, that I thinke no 
place whatsoever, eyther in Christendome or Paganisme 
ThePiazzaor may compare with it) is the Piazza, that is, the Market 
marketplace. pj ace o f St. Marke, or (as our English Merchants com- 
morant in Venice, doe call it) the place of S. Marke, in 
Latin Forum or Platea Di. Marci. Truely such is the 
stupendious (to use a strange Epitheton for so strange 
and rare a place as this) glory of it, that at my first 
entrance thereof it did even amaze or rather ravish my 
senses. For here is the greatest magnificence of architec 
ture to be seene, that any place under the sunne doth 
yeelde. Here you may both see all manner of fashions 
of attire, and heare all the languages of Christendome, 
besides those that are spoken by the barbarous Ethnickes ; 
[p. 172.] the frequencie of people being so great twise a day, 
betwixt sixe of the clocke in the morning and eleven, 
and againe betwixt five in the afternoon and eight, that 
(as an elegant writer saith of it) a man may very properly 
call it rather Orbis then Urbis forum, that is, a market 
place of the world, not of the citie. The considera 
tion whereof caused a certaine German Poet, after 
he had thoroughly survayed the wondrous beautie 
of it, to write these most excellent verses in praise 
of the place. 



Si placeat varies hominum cognoscere vultus, A German 

Area longa patet sancto contermina Marco, poet s verses. 

Celsus ubi Adriacas Venetus Leo despicit undas. 

Hie circum gentes cunctis e partibus orbis 

./Ethiopas, Turcas, Sclavos, Arabesque, Syrosque, 

Inveniesque Cypri, Cretoe, Macedumque colonos, 

Innumerosque alios varia regione profectos. 

Saspe etiam nee visa prius, nee cognita cernes. 

Quae si cuncta velim tenui describere versu, 

Hie omnes citius nautas, celeresque phaselos, 

Et simul Adriaci pisces numerabo profundi. 

But I will descend to the particular description of this The 
peerelesse place, wherein if I seeme too tedious, I crave 
pardon of thee (gentle Reader) seeing the variety of the 
curious objects which it exhibiteth to the spectator is such, 
that a man shall much wrong it to speake a little of it. 
The like tediousnesse thou art like to finde also in my 
description of the Dukes Palace, and St. Markes Church, 
which are such glorious workes, that I endeavoured to 
observe as much of them as I might, because I knew it was 
uncertaine whether I should ever see them againe, though 
I hoped for it. This street of St. Marke seemeth to be 
but one, but if the beholder doth exactly view it, he will 
finde that it containeth foure distinct and severall streetes 
in it, which I thus divide : The first is that which reacheth 
from the front of St. Markes Church to the opposite 
front of St. Geminians Church. The second from that [p- i?3-] 
notable clocke at the comming into St. Markes from the 
Merceria, (whereof I will hereafter make mention) to the 
two lofty marble pillars neare to the shore of the Adriatique 
gulfe. These two streetes doe seeme to contend for the 
superiority, but the first (in my opinion) is the fairest of 
them. The third reacheth from the bridge neare to the 
prison, along by the South side of the Dukes Palace, and 
so by the Sea shore, to the end of that stately building a 
little beyond the foresaid pillars. The fourth and the 
last from one side of St. Markes Church to the Canons 


The fairest houses. The first of these two is beyond all comparison 
street of all ^ f a i rest o f a jj E urO pe. For it hath two such magni 
ficent fronts or rowes of building on the North and South 
sides opposite to each other, especially that on the North 
side, that they drove me into great admiration, and so I 
thinke they doe all other strangers that behold the same. 
These two rowes are the principall things that beautifie 
St. Marks place ; the upper part whereof containeth the 
dwelling houses of some of the Clarissimoes and Gentle 
men of the citie, the lower part the houses of artificers 
and mechanical men that keepe their shops there. Againe, 
the lower part is fairely vaulted, especially that of the North 
side, and adorned with walks, Podia, such as I have 
already spoken of about the Palaces of the Canal il grande, 
Open or open galleries for the people to walke in, having a great 

galleries. multitude of faire pillars at the sides. Both these rowes 
North and South are built with very goodly faire white 
stone, or rather (as I take it) Istrian Marble, two stories 
high above the vaulted walke, having two faire rowes of 
windowes in it, whereof the North side that for many 
yeares since was fully finished, hath ninety nine, and 
betwixt each window a pretty little piller of Istrian Marble. 
The pillers of the North walke are in number fifty three, 
being square, made of Istrian Marble as the lesser above. 
Betwixt every two pillers that make the arch, there is the 
[p. 174.] distance of nine foote and a halfe, and the walke in length 
two hundred paces and fifteene in breadth. This North 
side doth make a singular faire shew, and exceedingly 
grace Saint Markes place, and by so much the more 
beautifull it is, by how much the more uniformity of 
Uniformity of workmanship it presenteth. For such is the symmetrie 
workmanship. anc j d ue proportion of building both in this front and all 
the others, that the whole range or rowe of the edifice is 
altogether alike, no part of the whole fabricke differing a 
jot from the other. The like uniformitie of building 1 
observed in our Ladies street of Paris, but in a different 
manner and matter much inferiour unto this. The South 
side of this first part of Saint Markes street is but little 



more then halfe ended. For it was but lately begunne : 

But such is the curiositie and sumptuousnesse of the 

worke, that it will excell the North side in beauty when 

it is once finished, and marvailously adorne the place. 

There are two rowes of windowes in this South side also Rows of 

to answere the North front, but of each of these rowes mndows - 

there were no more then twenty windowes ended when I 

was in Venice. Betwixt every row or story of this new 

building in the South side there is a very faire front 

chamfered with curious borders and images, above which 

there is a rowe of pretty little tarrasses or rayles betwixt 

every window, foure smal turned pillars of Istrian Marble 

making each tarrasse : This South series or rowe of 

building shall answere the north opposite unto it in length. 

That which is already done being correspondent unto it 

in breadth, for the walke is fifteene foote broade, and the 

distance betwixt the pillers is nine foote and a halfe. The 

length of this part of Saint Markes which reacheth from 

East to West, is betwixt the dore of Saints Markes Church 

and Saint Geminians Church two hundred thirty sixe 5. Geminlan s 

paces, and the breadth from South to North one hundred Church. 

paces. The Church of Saint Geminian is exceeding faire 

built with white marble, over the gate whereof I reade 

this inscription written in Capitall blacke letters upon a [p. 175.] 

ground of gold. Hanc oedem urbis non vetustissimam 

solum verum etiam augustissimam Senatus Venetus 

antiqua religione obstrictus magnificentius pecunia publica 

reficiendam curavit. Anno post Christ, natum M.C. 

LVII. summa Benedicti Manzini Antistitis cura. This 

part of the Piazza, together with all the other is fairely The Piazza 

paved with bricke, which maketh a shew fair enough ; but P az> ^ Wltl > 

had it beene paved either with diamond pavier made of 

free stone, as the halles of some of our great Gentlemen 

in England are, (amongst the rest that of my Honourable 

and thrise- worthy Meccenas Sir Edward Phillips, in his 

magnificent house of Montague, in the County of 

Somerset, within a mile of Odcombe, my sweet native 

soile) or with other pavier ex quadrate lapide, which we 



call Ashler, in Somersetshire, certainly it would have 
made the whole Piazza much more glorious and resplen 
dent then it is. 

The second part which reacheth from the clocke at the 
entrance of St. Marks from the Merceria, as I have before 
said, to the two huge marble pillars by the shore of the 
Adriatique gulfe, is exceeding fair also, but is something 
inferiour to the first. This is in length two hundred and 
thirty paces, and in breadth threescore and seven. This 
part of the Piazza is worthy to be celebrated for that 
Concourse of famous concourse and meeting of so many distinct and 
nations. sundry nations twise a day, betwixt sixe and eleven of 

the clocke in the morning, and betwixt five in the after- 
noone and eight, as I have before mentioned, where also 
the Venetian long gowned Gentlemen doe meete together 
in great troupes. For you shall not see as much as one 
Venetian there of the Patrician ranke without his blacke 
gowne and tippet. There you may see many Polonians, 
Slavonians, Persians, Grecians, Turks, Jewes, Christians 
of all the famousest regions of Christendome, and each 
nation distinguished from another by their proper and 
[p. 176.] peculiar habits. A singular shew, and by many degrees 
the worthiest of all the Europasan Countries. There are 
two very goodly and sumptuous rowes of building in this 
part also, as in the other that I have already described, 
which doe confront each other. One of these rowes is 
The tvest front the West front of the Dukes Palace which is adorned 
of the Duke s w ith a faire walke about fourescore and sixteene paces 
palace. long, and sixteene foote broade. At the edge whereof 

there is a row of goodly pillars, betwixt which faire arches 
are made at the top. Againe, betwixt every couple there 
is sixteene foote distance. These pillars are not very 
high, but of so great a compasse that I could hardly 
compasse one of them at twise with both my armes. The 
number of them is nineteene. Above this walke is a faire 
long gallery contrived in the front of the Palace, having 
seven and thirty pillars of white stone at the side thereof, 
or rather Istrian marble. But of those seven and thirty 



there are two made of red marble, betwixt which one of 
their Dukes was beheaded for many yeares since, as a 
Gentleman told me in Venice. For a memoriall whereof 
those pillars were erected as a monument to posterity. 
Also betwixt every couple of pillars in this high gallery 
there goeth a prety little tarrasse of white stone, contayn- 
ing three small marble pillars. Above the toppe of the 
arch of the gallery there are seven faire glasse windowes 
a prety way distant asunder, whereof the middle is 
exceeding faire, having two goodly rowes of red marble Red marble. 
and alabaster pillars, that runne up to the very top of the 
frontispice. Which rowes are garnished with the statues 
of women cunningly wrought. A little without the 
window there is a faire tarrasse butting out, made of white 
and red marble to leane over, serving for a faire prospect. 
These kinde of windowes were heretofore used in Rome 
amongst the auncient Romans, which they call Meniana, 
as I have before written. Above the toppe of this 
window within a faire circle of alabaster is pourtrayed a 
mother with her three infants about her, and on both [p- J 77-] 
sides without that compasse are presented the statues of 
two women more, above which the armes of Venice are 
displayed, that is, the winged Lyon with the Duke in his 
Ducal ornaments kneeling before it. All these things are 
expressed in alabaster. Againe, above that three men are 
curiously carved with bookes in their hands, which sit 
within a hollow place made of red marble. At the toppe 
of all this the Image of Dame Justice is erected at large, Image of 
according to the whole proportion of a body in alabaster Justice. 
as the rest, with a paire of scales in one hand, and a sword 
in the other. In this manner is the middle window of 
the South side of the Dukes Palace made. Which 
although it ought to be mentioned especially in the par 
ticular description of the Palace hereafter, yet it is not 
altogether impertinent to this matter, because it is the 
principall ornament that doth grace this second part of 
St. Marks place. Opposite unto this part of the Dukes 
Palace there is another very sumptous row of building 



about some two stories high, built all with white stone 
and that with great curiosity. Under this building is 

A vaulted another faire vaulted walke about a hundred and sixe paces 
long, and fifteene foote broade, and at the outside garnished 
with two and twenty very goodly pillars of white stone, 
having one and twenty arches. Betwixt every couple of 
these pillars is nine foote and a halfe distance as before. 
Likewise over every arch of that side there is a faire two 
leafed window, decked with two prety pillars of Istrian 
marble, and a tarrasse before every window containing 
five little round marble pillars. There is another thing 
also that doth greatly garnish this whole building, the 
Images that are erected at the very toppe of the front, 
curiously carved in Istrian marble, as I conceive it, and in 
number foure and twenty, they are made so large that 
they answere the full proportion of a mans body. In this 
row of building are some of the Clarissimoes dwelling 

[p. 178.] houses, whereof one belonging to one of the Procurators 
of St. Marks, is exceeding beautifully built, all with white 
stone, with a faire quadrangular court, about the walles 
whereof many worthy antiquities are to be seene, as 
auncient statues of Roman Worthies made in Alabaster 
and other stone. There I read this inscription written in 
a certain stone which is about three foote high, and a foote 
and halfe broade. Marce Tulli Cicero have, & tu Terentia 

Stone brought Antoniana. I have read that this stone was kept within 

from Zante. ^ &se f ew y ea res in Zacynthos now called Zante a famous 
Hand in the Ionian Sea, from whence it was afterward 
brought to Venice. There also I saw a statue of one of 
the Roman Emperours, pourtrayed at length in alabaster 
with a garland of laurell about his temples, a cap upon his 
head, and a mantle wrapped about his body. About the 
toppe of the base whereon this statue standeth there is 
a Greeke inscription which I could not understand by 
reason of the antiquity of those exolete letters : in the 
Court there was a Souldier pourtrayed at length with a 
blacke pike in his hand, and many women at length. 
Withall I saw there ten fragments of statues in severall 



parts of the Court, and five whole statues, saving one, 
whose head and the upper part of his body was broken 
off. Also foure little statues made in a manner as Livies 
and Speronus Speronius at the upper end of the hall of 
the Palace of Padua. 

It happened that when I was very diligently survaying 
these antiquities, and writing out inscriptions, there came 
a youth unto me, who because he thought I was a great 
admirer and curious observer of auncient monuments, 
very courteously brought me into a faire chamber, which 
was the next roome to Cardinall Bessarions f Library, so Cardinal 
famous for auncient manuscripts both Greeke and Latin, Bessarion s 
where I observed a little world of memorable antiquities Library. 
made in Alabaster, and some few in stone, which were 
brought thither by Cardinall Grimannus Patriarch of [p. 179.] 
Aquileia, being digged up as it is thought, partly from 
out of the ruines of the foresaid citie of Aquileia, after it 
was sacked by Attila King of the Hunnes ; and partly from 
Rome and other places. These antiquities are very highly 
esteemed in Venice ; so that they are now no private and 
particular mans onely, but belong altogether to the State 
or Signiory, who hath built a faire chamber that is assigned 
to no other use, but onely to containe these auncient 
monuments. The particulars that I saw there were these : 
The statue of Marius that noble Roman so famoused for Statues in the 
his conquest of the Cimbri, of whom he slew an hundred DukisPalace. 
and forty thousand, as many Historiographers do record. 
He was made but to the middle ; Julius Caesar in alabaster, 
but little more then his head : Cleopatra in alabaster, 
onely her head with a blacke vaile about it. The same 
againe with stumpes without any hands, and her serpent 
by her, with which she stung her selfe to death : Pompey 
the Great, a little more then his head : Augustus Caesar at 
length in alabaster with a long gowne or mantle about 
him : Marcus Antonius the Triumvir in alabaster to the 
middle : Tiberius Cassar onely his head : Nero onely his 

f This Library did first belong to Francis Petrarcha, who by his 
last will and testament made the Senate of Venice heire thereof. 

C. C. 321 


NobleRomans. head : Vitellius in alabaster onely his head : Vespasianus 
in alabaster, but little more then his head : his sonne 
Titus Vespasianus that sacked Jerusalem, onely his head : 
Cocceius Nerva : Antoninus Pius little more then his head, 
and his daughter the Empress Faustina, wife to his 
successor and adopted sonne Marcus Antoninus the 
Philosopher : Her statue is at length : Commodus at 
length : Adrianus in alabaster, onely his head : Aurelianus 
in alabaster, but little more then his head ; & by him a 
statue of his wife Faustina : Aurelianus againe when he 
was a yong man : Clodius Balbinus companion in the 
Empire with Maximus Pupienus, most exquisitely done 
in alabaster to the middle : Julianus Apostata a little more 
then his head : the statue of a Senator of Rome made 

[p. 1 80.] a t length in alabaster, with a long gowne as they were 
wont to sit in the Senate house : Venus in alabaster at 

Statues of the large all naked, and little Cupid winged, sitting on a 
Dolphin hard by her : Pallas at length in alabaster, with 
a helmet upon her head, and a plume of feathers upon 
the crest : Pallas againe with a goodly crest : three 
Gladiatores, whereof one slaine : Antaeus the Giant whom 
Hercules slew by elevating him from his mother the 
earth : the same again and Hercules wrestling together : 
Cupid againe at length by himselfe in alabaster : Pallas 
againe the third time : Hercules in alabaster at length : 
the statue of Jupiter made in alabaster very little, with 
an Eagle upon his backe hanged up with an iron rodde 
to the middle of the roofe : Bacchus at length with a cluster 
of grapes in his hands : Mercurius with a winged cap, 
which is called Petasus, wherehence he is called Petas- 
atus : Ulysses naked : Jupiter againe in the forme 
of a Swanne, wantonly conversing and dallying with 
Leda : Medusaes head, made very terrible to behold, 
with long serpentine haire, and great gogling eyes : 
an Altar whereon the Gentiles offered sacrifice unto 
their Idols, and hard by the same an Idol it selfe made in 
blacke, standing on the ground, which was worshipped in 
the citie of Rhodes : a statue of Cornucopia in alabaster : 



two Urnes wherein the ashes of the Emperours were laid 

after their bodies were burnt ; and lastly a representation A repnsen- 

of St. Markes Church most curiously contrived. All f " fio "f,. 

. J . S/. Mark s. 

these notable antiquities 1 saw in that chamber, where a 
certaine fellow pointed out the particulars to me, like to 
the keeper of our monuments at Westminster. These 
things I thought good to insert into my description of this 
second part of St. Markes place, because they are kept in 
a chamber of that magnificent row of building opposite 
to the west end of the Dukes Palace, which is a principall 
ornament of this second part. The last tHing that 
remaineth to be spoken of concerning this second part 
of St. Markes streete is a matter most memorable, and 
therefore I will relate it at large with some not impertinent [p- 181.] 
circumstances of it : At the farther end of this second part Two 
of the Piazza of S. Marke there stand two marveilous lofty marvellous 

pillars of marble, which I have before mentioned, of equall P illa " V 

i t i i 11 r i marble on the 

heigth and thicknesse very neare to the shore or the p- iazza O f 

Adriatique gulfe, the fairest certainely for heigth and Sf. Mark. 
greatnesse that ever I saw till then. For the compasse 
of them is so great, that I was not able to claspe them 
with both mine armes at thrice, their Diameter in thick 
nesse containing very neare foure foote (as I conjecture). 
Besides they are of such an exceeding heigth, that I 
thought a good while there were scarce the like to be 
found in any place of Christendome, till at length I called 
to my remembrance that wondrous high pillar in a certaine 
market place of Rome, on whose top the ashes of the 
Emperour Trajan were once kept. For that pillar was 
about one hundred and forty foot high, but this I thinke 
is scarce above thirty. They are said to be made of 
Phrygian marble, being solid and all one peece. They 
were brought by Sea from Constantinople for more then 
foure hundred years since. Upon the top of one of them 
are advanced the arms of Venice, the winged Lyon made 
all of brasse ; on the other the statue of S. Theodorus 
gilt, and standing upon a brasen Crocodile, with a speare 
in one hand, and a shield in another. This S. Theodorus 

3 2 3 


5. Theodorus. 

A third pillar 
brought from 

[p. 182.] 

The pillars 
erected by 

The South 
front of the 
Duke s Palace. 

was a valiant warriour, and the generall Captaine of the 
Venetian armies, whom by reason of his invincible 
courage, and fortunate successe in martiall affaires that he 
atchieved for the good of this citie, the Venetians caused 
to be canonized for a Saint, and do with many ceremonious 
solemnities celebrate his feast every year. There was a 
third pillar also brought from Constantinople at the same 
time that these were : which through the exceeding force 
of the weight when they were drawing of it out of the 
ship into the land, fell downe into the water, by reason that 
the tackling and instruments that those men used which 
were set a worke about it, brake asunder. That same 
pillar is yet to be felt within some ten paces of the shore : 
those two that doe now stand hard by the sea shore were 
erected about some eighteene paces asunder, by one 
Nicolas Beratterius a Longobard, and a very cunning 
architect. It is reported that this man craved no other 
reward of the Senate for his labour, then that it might be 
lawfull for any man to play at dice at all times betwixt 
those pillars without any contradiction, which was granted, 
and is continually performed. In this distance betwixt 
the pillars condemned men and malefactors are put to 
death. For whensoever there is to be any execution, upon 
a sudden they erect a scaffold there, and after they have 
beheaded the offenders (for that is most commonly their 
death) they take it away againe. 

Thus farre I have described the second part of St. 
Markes streete, having mentioned all the principallest 
things that it doth present to the eyes of man. The last 
two partes are nothing comparable to the first two, so that 
I cannot mention any memorable thing in eyther of them. 
The third extendeth it selfe (as I have before spoken) 
from the bridge neare the prison along the Sea shore to 
the end of that sumptuous building beyond the pillars : in 
which space there is nothing to be observed but only the 
South front of the Dukes Palace, which indeed is 
wondrous beautifull. But because it is uniforme and 
answerable in workemanship unto the west front of the 

3 2 4 


Palace, that I have already described both in walks, 
galleries, tarrasses, Meniana, windows, images, &c. I 
hold it superfluous to write any thing of it : onely I adde 
this which was forgotten in the description of the west 
front. The whole front both of the south and west side of 
the Palace is very rarely beautified with white and red White and red 
marble, which addeth marveilous glory to the edifice, marble. 
The length of this third part is one hundred and thirty 
paces, the bredth thirty five. The fourth and the last 
part reacheth from the North side of S. Markes Church [p. 183.] 
(as I have above mentioned) to the Canons houses, being 
in length sixty nine paces, in bredth thirty eight. 
Thus much of S. Markes place. 

THere are many notable things to be considered in 
this Piazza of St. Marke, the principall whereof I 
will relate before I come to the description of St. Markes 
Church and the Dukes Palace : Most memorable is the The Tower of 
Tower of St. Marke, which is a very faire building, made St - M(lrk - 
all of bricke till towards the toppe, being distant from 
St. Markes Church about some eighty foote : It is from 
the bottome to the toppe about some two hundred and 
eighty foote, and hath such an exceeding deep foundation, 
that some doe thinke the very foundation cost almost as 
much as the rest of the building from the ground to the 
top. This Tower is square, being of an equall bredth in 
every side, namely forty foot broad. The whole top is 
covered with pieces of brasse, made in forme of tyles 
that are gilt. Such is the heigth of this Tower that in a 
faire season it is to be scene by sea from Istria and Croatia, 
which is at the least one hundred miles from Venice : the 
staires are made after such a strange manner that not Stairs easy of 
only a man, or woman, or childe may with great ease ascent - 
ascend to the top of it, but also an horse, as it is commonley 
reported in the citie. But I thinke this will seeme such a 
paradox and incredible matter to many, that perhaps they 
will say I may lie by authority (according to the old 
proverbe) because I am a traveller. Indeed I confesse I 

3 2 5 


saw no horse ascend the staires ; but I heard it much 
reported in Venice, both by many of my countrey-men, 
and by the Venetians themselves ; neither is it unlikely 
to be true. For these staires are not made as other 
common staires, by which a man can ascend by no more 
then a foote higher from staire to staire till he commeth 
to the highest ; but these are made flat, and ascend so 
[p. 184.] easily by little and little in heigth, that a man can hardly 
be weary, and scarce perceive any paines or difficulty in 
the ascent. For that whole space which begins from the 
entrance of the staire at the corner of the Tower within, 
till you ascend to the next corner, which perhaps containeth 
about some twenty foot at the least, is esteemed but one 
staire. When you have ascended almost as high as you 
can, you shall leave the staires, and enter into a voyde loft, 
and from that you are conveyed by a short ladder into a 
little square gallery butting out from the Tower, and 
made in the forme of a tarrasse, being supported with 
faire round pillars of alabaster. From every side of which 
A general square gallery you have the fairest and goodliest prospect 
view of little that is (I thinke) in all the world. For therehence may 
Christendom. vou see j-j^ wno i e model and forme of the citie sub uno 
intuito, a sight that doth in my opinion farre surpasse all 
the shewes under the cope of heaven. There you may 
have a Synopsis, that is, a general view of little Christen- 
dome (for so doe many intitle this citie of Venice) or 
rather of the Jerusalem of Christendome. For so me 
thinks may a man not improperly call this glorious citie 
of Venice : not in respect of the religion thereof, or the 
situation, but of the sumptuousnesse of their buildings, 
for which we reade Jerusalem in former times was famoused 
above al the Easterne cities of the world. There you 
may behold all their sumptuous Palaces adorned with 
admirable variety of beautiful pillars : the Church of S. 
Marke which is but a little way therehence distant, with 
the Dukes stately Palace adjoyning unto it, being one 
of the principall wonders of the Christian world ; the lofty 
Rialto, the Piazza of Saint Stephen which is the most 



spacious and goodly place of the Citie except St. Markes ; 

all the sixe parts of the citie. For into so many it is 

divided, as I have before said ; their streetes, their 

Churches, their Monasteries, their market places, and all 

their other publike buildings of rare magnificence. Also 

many faire gardens replenished with diversity of delicate [p- 185-] 

fruites, as Oranges, Citrons, Lemmons, Apricocks, muske 

melons, anguriaes, and what not ; together with their little 

Islands bordering about the citie wonderfully frequented 

and inhabited with people, being in number fifty or there 

about. Also the Alpes that lead into Germany two waies, The Alps to be 

by the Citie of Trent, and the Grisons country ; and those seen from 

that leade into France through Savoy, the Appennines, the ^ Mark s 

pleasant Euganean hils, with a little world of other most 

delectable objects : therefore whatsoever thou art that 

meanest to see Venice, in any case forget not to goe up 

to the top of Saint Markes tower before thou commest 

out of the citie. For it will cost thee but a gazet, which 

is not fully an English penny : on the toppe of the tower 

is erected a brasen *Angell fairely gilte, which is made in 

that sort that he semeth to blesse the people with his hand. 

There is adjoyned unto this tower a most glorious little The Logetto, 
roome that is very worthy to be spoken of, namely the & glorious 
Logetto, which is a place where some of the Procurators of 10t 
Saint Markes doe use to sit in judgement, and discusse 
matters of controversies. This place is indeed but little, 
yet of that singular and incomparable beauty being made 
all of Corinthian worke, that I never saw the like before 
for the quantity thereof. The front of it looking 
towards the Dukes Palace is garnished with eight curious 
pillars versicoloris marmoris, that is, of marble that hath 
sundry colours ; wherof foure are placed at one side of the 
dore, and foure at another. The steppes of the staires 
which are in number foure, are made of red marble. Two 
faire benches without it of red marble. The walke a little 
without paved with Diamond pavier contrived partly with 
free stone and partly with red marble : all the front of red 

* This Angell was erected Anno Domi. 1517. 
3 2 7 


marble, except the images which are made of most pure 
alabaster : over the tribunal where the Procurators sit, the 

[p. 1 86.] image of the Virgin Mary is placed bearing Christ in her 
armes made of alabaster, and two pretty pillars of 
changeable-coloured marble on both sides of her, under 
whom this is written in a little white stone : Opus Jacobi 
Sansovini. The sides of the dore are made of alabaster, 
and the top rayled with a curious tarrasse of alabaster. 

Four statues of On both sides of the dore are foure very goodly faire 
a " statues made in brasse, two on one side, and two on the 

other ; each betwixt a paire of those curious pillars that 
I have spoken of. On the right hand as you enter the 
dore, there are these two, the statue of Mercury with a 
dead mans skull under his feete : The other, the statue 
of Peace with a burning torch in her hand, wherwith she 
burneth an helmet (a strange thing to burn steele with 
fire) and a Target. On the left hand these two ; Pallas 
very exquisitely made with an helmet and a feather in the 
crest, a shield in one hand, and a trunchin in another, a 
mantle about her and a Souldiers coat of maile : the other 
the statue of Apollo like a stripling without a beard, with 
an home in one hand, and a quiver full of arrowes in 
another hanging downe about his neck. All these statues 
were made by Jacobus Sansovinus a Florentine. 

The street The fairest streete of all Venice saving Saint Markes, 

C M $d which I have already described, is that adjoyning to St. 
Markes place which is called the Merceria, which name it 
hath because many Mercers dwell there, as also many 
Stationers, and sundry other artificers. This streete 
reacheth from almost the hither side of the Rialto bridge 
to Saint Markes, being of a goodly length, but not 
altogether of the broadest, yet of breadth convenient 
enough in some places for five or sixe persons to walke 
together side by side ; it is paved with bricke, and 
adorned with many faire buildings of a competent height 
on both sides ; there is a very faire gate at one end of 
this street even as you enter into St. Markes place when 
you come from the Rialto bridge, which is decked with a 



great deale of faire marble, in which gate are two pretty [p. 187.] 

conceits to be observed, the one at the very top, which 

is a clocke with the images of two wilde men by it made 

in brasse, a witty device and very exactly done. At which 

clocke there fell out a very tragicall and rufull accident 

on the twenty fifth day of July being munday about nine 

of the clocke in the morning, which was this. A certaine 

fellow that had the charge to looke to the clocke, was 4 dock maker 

very busie about the bell, according to his usuall custome killed. 

every day, to the end to amend something in it that was 

amisse. But in the meane time one of those wilde men 

that at the quarters of the howers doe use to strike the 

bell, strooke the man in the head with his brazen hammer, 

giving him such a violent blow, that therewith he fel down 

dead presently in the place, and never spake more. Surely 

I will not justifie this for an undoubted truth, because I 

saw it not. For I was at that time in the Dukes Palace 

observing of matters : but as soone as I came forth some 

of my country-men that tolde me they saw the matter with 

there owne eies, reported it unto me, and advised me to 

mention it in my jornall for a most lamentable chance. 

The other conceit that is to be observed in this gate is 

the picture of the Virgin Mary made in a certaine dore 

above a faire Dial, neare to whom on both sides of her 

are painted two Angels on two little dores more. These Doors which 

dores upon any principall holiday doe open of themselves, open of 

and immediately there come forth two Kings to present tfiemse ^ es - 

themselves to our Lady, unto whom, after they have done 

their obeysance by uncovering of their heads, they returne 

againe into their places : in the front of this sumptuous 

gate are presented the twelve celestial signes, with the 

Sunne, Moone, and Starres, most excellently handled. 

There are in St. Markes place right opposite to the 
two corners of the West end of the Church three very 
lofty poles made either of Beech or pine tree. At the 
top whereof there is a pretty round brasen Globe, and [p. 188.] 
under the same a brasen plate whrein St. Marks armes, 
the winged lyon is displayed. These poles are of an 

3 2 9 


Three lofty 

A porphyry 
stone for 
traitors heads. 

[p. 189.] 

Gallows of 

equall heigth, each of them at the least one hundred and 
twenty foote high as I suppose. They are infixed on as 
many severall brasen bases which are very curiously carved 
with images and pretty fine borders. On each of these 
poles is hanged a great red flagge upon every festivall day, 
with the winged Lyon made in it in gold. The like is 
done upon two as long poles that stand upon the two 
corners of the West end of St. Markes Church. This 
ceremony I saw observed in Venice upon some daies when 
I was there, and hath been (they say) a long time used 
amongst them ; but I will confesse mine ignorance, for 
truly what they meane by it I know not. 

At the South corner of St. Markes Church as you go 
into the Dukes Palace there is a very remarkable thing 
to be observed. A certaine Porphyrie stone of some yard 
and halfe or almost two yards high, and of a pretty large 
compasse, even as much as a man can claspe at twice with 
both his armes. On this stone are laide for the space of 
three dayes and three nights, the heads of all such as being 
enemies or traitors to the State, or some notorious 
offenders, have been apprehended out of the citie, and 
beheaded by those that have beene bountifully hired by 
the Senate for the same purpose. In that place do their 
heads remain so long, though the smell of them doth 
breede a very offensive and contagious annoyance. For 
it hath beene an auncient custome of the Venetians when 
soever any notorious malefactor hath for any enormous 
crime escaped out of the City for his security to propose 
a great reward to him that shal bring his head to that 
stone. Yea I have heard that there have beene twenty 
thousand duckats given to a man for bringing a traytors 
head to that place. 

Near to this stone is another memorable thing to be 
observed. A marvailous faire paire of gallowes made of 
alabaster, the pillars being wrought with many curious 
borders and workes, which served for no other purpose 
but to hang the Duke whensoever he shall happen to 
commit any treason against the State. And for that cause 



it is erected before the very gate of his Palace to the A remem- 
end to put him in minde to be faithfull and true to his 
country, if not, he seeth the place of punishment at hand. 
But this is not a perfect gallowes, because there are only 
two pillars without a transverse beame, which, beame (they 
say) is to be erected when there is any execution, not else. 
Betwixt this gallowes malefactors and condemned men 
(that are to goe to be executed upon a scaffold betwixt 
the two famous pillars before mentioned at the South 
end of St. Marks street, neare the Adriaticque Sea) are 
wont to say their prayers to the Image of the Virgin 
Mary, standing on a part of S. Marks Church right 
opposite unto them. 

Also, there is a third thing to be scene in that place, 
which is very worthy your observation, being neare to the 
foresaid gallowes, and pourtrayed in the corner of the wall 
as you goe into the Dukes Palace. The pourtraitures of Portraitures if 
foure Noble Gentlemen of Albania that were brothers, ft noble 
which are made in porphyrie stone with their fawchions ^n, an \ a 
by their sides, and each couple consulting privately 
together by themselves, of whom this notable history 
following is reported. These Noble brothers came from 
Albania together in a ship laden with great store of riches. 
After their arrivall at Venice which was the place whereunto 
they were bound, two of them went on shore, and left 
the other two in the ship. They two that were landed 
entred into a consulation and conspiracy how they might 
dispatch their other brothers which remayned in the ship, 
to the end they might gaine all the riches to themselves. 
Whereupon they bought themselves some drugges to that 
purpose, and determined at a banquet to present the same [p. 190-] 
to their other brothers in a potion or otherwise. Likewise 
on the other side those two brothers that were left in the 
shippe whispered secretly amongst themselves how they 
might make away their brothers that were landed, that 
they might get all the wealth to themselves. And there 
upon procured means accordingly. At last this was the 
final issue of these consultations. They that had beene 



Sir Henry 
Wotton a 
notable guide. 

[p. 191.] 

The Mint of 
St. Mart s. 

at land presented to their other brothers certaine poysoned 
drugges at a banquet to the end to kill them. Which 
those brothers did eate and dyed therewith, but not 
incontinently. For before they died, they ministred a 
certaine poysoned march-pane or some such other thing 
at the very same banquet to their brothers that had been 
at land ; both which poysons when they had throughly 
wrought their effects upon both couples, all foure dyed 
shortly after. Whereupon the Signiory of Venice seised 
upon all their goods as their owne, which was the first 
treasure that ever Venice possessed, and the first occasion 
of inriching the estate ; and in memoriall of that un 
charitable and unbrotherly conspiracy, hath erected the 
pourtraitures of them in porphyrie as I said before in two 
severall couples consulting together. I confesse I never 
read this history, but many Gentlemen of very good 
account in Venice both Englishmen and others reported 
it unto me for an absolute truth. And Sir Henry Wotton 
himselfe our Kings most Honourable, learned, and thrise- 
worthy Ambassador in Venice counselled me once when he 
admitted me to passe with him in his Gondola, (which I 
will ever most thankfully acknowledge for one of his 
undeserved favours he affoorded me in that noble City) 
to take speciall observation of those two couples of men 
with fawchons or curtleaxes by their sides, pourtrayed in 
the gate wall of the Dukes Palace, as being a thing most 
worthy to be considered. Therefore although I have not 
read this thing that I have before related in any authenticall 
history, I for mine owne part doe as farre forth beleeve 
it, having received it from so good Authors, as if I had 
found it in a history of sufficient authority. 

The last notable thing that occurreth to be considered 
in St. Markes place, out of the number of those things 
that are properly to be esteemed for parts of the Piazza, 
is the Mint of St. Marks. A goodly edifice, and so 
cunningly contrived with free stone, bricke, and yron, that 
they say there is no timber at all in that whole fabricke, 
a device most rare. It is built in the second part of Saint 



Marks street, even in the west row of that building which 

is opposite to the west front of the Dukes Palace. At 

the entrance of the first gate there stand the statues of 

two monstrous great Gyants, opposite to each other with TWO great 

clubs in their hands, which worke was most singularly giants carved 

done in free stone, by that rare fellow, Titianus of Padua, h Tlttan - 

who was not only an excellent painter as I have before 

mentioned, but also a very cunning statuary. This Mint 

is wonderfull strongly built with free stone, and made all 

round about the court with pointed diamond worke, which 

yeeldeth a very beautifull shew, with ten dores on each 

side of the court ; the upper part of each whereof is made 

of yron. And I saw a faire Well in the middest of the 

court. Also, there is a pretty gallery in the inside of the 

building that goeth round about the court, being tarrassed 

and beautified with fine pilasters of white stone. I was 

in one higher roome of this Mint, where I saw fourteene Great trea- 

marvailous strong- chests hooped with yron, and wrought 

c 11 c -i 1-1-1 1 mint. 

rull or great massy yron nailes, in which is kept nothing 

but money, which consisteth of these three mettals, gold, 

silver, and brasse. Two of these chests were about some 

foure yardes high, and a yard and more thicke, having 

seven locks upon them. Which chests are said to be full 

of Chiquineys. In the outward gallery at the entrance 

of the chamber I told seventeen more of such yron chests [? I 9 2 -] 

which are likewise full of money. So that the number 

of all the money chests which I saw at the Mint is one 

and thirty. Also in two chambers at the Rialto I saw 

two and forty more of such chests full of coyne, the totall 

summe whereof is threescore and thirteen. So that it is 

thought all the quantity of money contained in these 

threescore and thirteene chests doth not amount to so 

little as forty millions of duckats. 

The Palace of the Duke which was built by Angelus The 
Participatius a Duke of Venice in the yeare 809. is aace 
absolutely the fairest building that ever I saw, exceeding 
all the King of Frances Palaces that I could see, yea his 
most delectable Paradise at Fountaine Beleau. Which 



The Palace indeed for delicate walkes, springs, rivers, and gardens, 
surpasses excelleth this, but not for sumptuousnesse of building, 

the Kins , . , r 1 i 1 T 

of France s wherm this surpasseth the best or his three that saw, 
Palaces. namely the Loure, the Tuillerie, and Fountaine Beleau. 
This Palace is square, but so, that it is built more in length 
then bredth. It is so situate that in the east it hath a 
channell running by it, in the west St. Marks place, even 
that part of Saint Markes place where that famous con 
course of people is twise a day ; in the north the Church 
of St. Marke, and in the south the Adriatique gulfe. 
The Palace There are also foure stately gates to answere these foure 
four times fronts. It hath been five times consumed with fire, yet 
c ume y so sumptuously reedified that it never was so faire as at this 
present. The gate at the comming in from S. Marks place 
is the fairest by many degrees that ever I saw, having a 
wonderfull magnificent frontispice. At both the sides of 
the gate are two very beautifull rowes of marble pillars 
which reach up to the toppe of the gate, and containe no 
lesse then thirty foote in heigth as I conjecture. Betwixt 
the which are erected the statues of the foure cardinall 
Vertues at length made in milke-white alabaster, two in 
one side of the gate, and as many in the other. Most of 
these pillars are red marble. Directly over the linterne 
[p. 193.] of the dore is advanced the winged Lyon in alabaster, 
before whom is pourtrayed in alabaster also one of their 
The statuary Dukes called Fuscarus, in his ducal ornaments kneeling 
of the gate. unto tne Lyon. A little above the toppe of the window 
there standeth within a circle of alabaster the statue of a 
religious man made also in alabaster as farre as his middle 
with a booke in his hand. Above that, even at the very 
highest top of all, is advanced the Image of Lady Justice 
with a naked sword in one hand, and a ballance in the 
other hand, sitting upon a couple of Lyons made of 
alabaster. When you are once entred in at the gate you 
shal passe through a most magnificent porch before you 
The great can come into the Court, which porch is vaulted over, 
porch. and hath sixe severall partitions that are distinguished 

from each other by sixe faire marble pillars on each side : 



this porch is paved with bricke, and is in length three and 
forty paces, and in bredth seven. On both sides of the 
inner gate of the porch within the Court are erected two Alabaster 
most exquisite statues in alabaster of Adam and Eve naked, st " iues ? 
covering their shame with figge leaves. That statue of Eyg 
Eve, is done with that singularity of cunning, that it is 
reported the Duke of Mantua hath offered to give the 
weight of it in gold for the Image, yet he cannot have it. 
These are placed right opposite to the statues of Neptune 
and Pallas, which are upon the toppe of the staires on the 
other side. The architecture over this gate which is within The architec 
ts. Palace is exceeding glorious, being adorned with many ture over the 
marble pillars, some of white colour, some of red, some of mner S ate - 
* changeable. At the toppe of which architecture are 
erected about eighteen goodly statues made in alabaster. 
The highest whereof holdeth a booke in his hand. The 
winged Lyon also is made there againe in alabaster with 
the Duke Fuscarus kneeling unto it, as at the comming 
in to the gate. When you come into the Court you shall The court of 
see many objects of admiration presented unto you, tjie Polace. 
especially the east front being the beautifullest that ever 
I saw, of an exceeding lofty heigth, even foure stories [p. 194.] 
high. This is made all of Istrian marble. At the 
entrance into the first gallery St. Marks armes are erected 
againe in alabaster over the toppe of the first arch as you 
ascend the staires. In this front are two goodly rowes of 
windowes, each row contayning eighteene severall. In 
every partition betwixt the windowes are wrought many 
curious borders, bunches of grapes, branches, and other Curious 
variable devices in Istrian marble, which doth wonderfully borders. 
grace this east front. Likewise in the same partitions 
are exquisitely inlayed in marble certain round pieces of 
another kinde of marble for the better ornament of the 
worke. These pieces are made of red and blew marble, 
which are placed in the middest of the borders I have 
spoken of. Againe, the east front in the outside of the 
Palace, which looketh towards the channell, is exceeding 
* I meane that which we call in Latin versicolor. 



The East beautifull, being correspondent to that front in the Court 
in matter, though not in forme. For this front hath foure 
several! rowes of windowes one above another, each row 
contayning foure and twenty windowes. The lower part 
of this front is marvailous faire, about the end whereof 
neare to the ground, there is a very curious worke made 
in the forme of pointed diamonds, like that of the two 
formost bulwarks of the Citadel of Milan, that I have 
before spoken of, but that this is farre more artificially 
done. It is devided by foure severall partitions, each 
contayning foure ranks or degrees of that diamond worke. 
In this east front are sixe exceeding faire gates which make 
a most magnificent shew, both for the stately vaulting of 
the stone, being adorned with many exquisite borders and 
works ; and for the gates themselves, which are contrived 
with many curious devices in timber worke, especially 
the upper parts thereof. Of these gates foure are together 
in one place, and two in another. Also this eastern part 
of the Palace is joyned to the prison which is in the other 

[p. 195.] side of the channell by a very faire little gallery made of 
Istrian marble, which reacheth aloft over the water, and 
is very artificially inserted into the very middle of this 

The Wat east f ront o f tne Palace. The west front that looketh to 
St. Marks place I have already described in my description 
of the second part of St. Marks street, and something 
glaunced at the south front which I have not so copiously 
described as the west, because those two fronts are 
uniforme in building. Only there was one speciall thing 
omitted in both those sides, that all that space which is 
above the arched galleries to the very toppe of the wall, 
is made of square pieces of white and red marble very 
finely compacted together ; which indeed would be a most 
glorious ornament to the Palace, if the west and south 
sides of the wals within the Court were correspondent to 
the outsides. For those wals within from the toppe of 
the galleries to the very highest part of the wal are made 
of bricke, which was the only deformity that I could 
perceive in all the Palace. Each of these foresaid wals 



within the Court, hath two severall walkes saving the 
west wall, one of them is a high gallery, and the other a 
walke beneath, hard by the Court. But the west front 
doth want that walke, because it is filled up with chambers 
in steed thereof. The principall walke of the Court, The walks in 
which is under the east front of the Palace, is vaulted, thc Court - 
and beautified with most stately great pillars of white 
stone, which are very cunningly wrought, whereof there 
are sixe and twenty in that walke, and foure and twenty 
faire arches. The distance betwixt the pillars is sixe foot 
and halfe. The walke is fourescore and five paces long, 
and nineteen foote broade. Also, the other walke in the 
south side of the Court towards the Sea, is five and fifty 
paces long, and seventeene foote broade, having thirteene 
stately arches, and as many great pillars of white stone. 
Betwixt every couple of these pillars there is sixe foote 
distance. The Court is fourescore paces in length, eight 
and forty in bredth, and paved with bricke, as St. Markes [p- !9 6 -] 
place neare to it. There is another walke also at the 
North end of the Court, arched and beautified with pillars 
sutable to those of the East and South side. But it is 
but short, because St. Markes Church taketh up a great 
part of it. For it is but twenty seven paces long, yet of 
equall bredth to the other walkes. Againe, over all these 
lower walkes there are faire galleries made above, which Fair galleries 
goe round about the foure fronts of the Palace, saving a *?f the 
where the long porch at comming in at the first gate, and 
St. Marks Church doth take up a good part of the North 
side. Betwixt every two pillars of these galleries there 
runneth a fine Tarrasse of seven turned pillars more of 
alabaster which yeeldeth a very faire shew. These walkes 
above have arches & pillars correspondent in number to 
those beneath : in the middest of the court there are two Two goodly 
very goodly wels, which are about some fifteen paces 
distant, the upper part whereof is adorned with a very 
faire worke of brasse that incloseth the whole Well, 
wherein many pretty images, clusters of grapes, and of 
Ivy berries are very artificially carved. There is a faire 
c. c. 337 Y 


Pleasant cool 

The staircases. 

[p. 197.] 

Testimony of 
King Henry 
the Third of 

ascent to each of these wels by three marble greeses. 
They yeeld very pleasant water. For I tasted it. For 
which cause it is so much frequented in the Sommer time, 
that a man can hardly come thither at any time in the 
afternoone, if the sunne shineth very hote, but he shall 
finde some company drawing of water to drinke for the 
cooling of themselves. 

The staires that leade up to the roomes of the Palace 
after you are once within the gate, are passing faire, having 
thirty two greeses. The beauty of these staires consisteth 
especially in the railes at both sides of them, which are 
all of milke white alabaster, and supported with fine little 
pillars of the same : also the whole workemanship in the 
outside of the stairs is very curiously made of pure 
alabaster, with benches of the same matter on both sides 
beneath to sit upon. And for the better ornament of these 
staires there are erected two most beautifull images of 
alabaster at the very top, one of Neptune on the right 
hand as you ascend, with a great huge beard, and a Dolphin 
under his feete : the other of Pallas on the left hand, with 
a crested helmet on her head. Under both is written opus 
Jacobi Sansovini. Assoone as you are at the toppe of the 
staires entring into the first gallery of the Palace, you 
shall see this honourable testimony of Henry the third 
of that name King of France, written in the wall opposite 
unto you in faire capitall letters, on a piece of marble 
richly gilt : Henricus tertius Galliae & Poloniae Rex 
Christianissimus accepto de immatura Caroli 9}. Galliae 
Regis fratris conjunctissimi morte tristi nuncio, e Polonia 
in Franciam ad ineundum regnum haereditarium properans, 
Venetias anno Salutis M. D. Lxxiiii. Xiiii. Cal Augusti 
accessit, atque ab Aloysio Mocenigo Sereniss. Venetorum 
Principe, & omnibus hujus reipub. ordinibus non modo 
propter veteris amicitiae necessitudinem, verum etiam ob 
singularem de ipsius eximia virtute atque anirm magni- 
tudine opinionem, magnificentissimo post hominum 
memoriam apparatu, atque alacri Italiae prope universae 
summorumque Principum praesertim concursu exceptus 



est, ad cujus rei, gratique regis animi erga hanc rempub. 

memoriam sempiternam, Senatus hoc monumentum fieri 

curavit. Arnaldo Ferrerio secretioris ejus Consilii parti- 

cipe : Regio apud Rempub. Legatio id etiam postulante. 

At the top of this monument many pretty devices are 

made in free stone, at the sides the statues of two women 

in alabaster, under the feete of one of which Alexander 

is written, under the others feete, Victoria F. Under al 

a goodly Eagle. The floore of this gallery is very faire, The floor of the 

being made of a kind of mixt coloured matter, the greatest fi rst S aller y- 

part whereof is reddish. But there is one great blemish 

in the floore. For a great part of it as you enter from 

the staires is chopped and cloven, and very uneven, being 

higher in some places then in some, in regard that the 

foundation and ground-worke of it underneath doth give 

place to his weight. After you have passed a little way in [p. 198.] 

this gallery you shall enter into a paire of staires that 

leadeth you to divers places of the Palace. You shall 

ascend foure severall degrees, till you come to the toppe 

of them : all which are sixty seven greeses. Over each 

of these degrees is a marveilous rich concamerated or Rick vaulted 

vaulted roofe : wherein are many gilt embossings and roc f s - 

sundry pictures most excellently drawen. Til I saw these 

staires, I thought there had not been so rich a staires in 

Christendome as the Kin^ of Frances at the Palace of 


the Loure, which indeed seemeth fairer then this, because 

it is fresher and more newly made, but I hold this to be 

as rich and costly as that : onely it sheweth much 

auncienter. At both the sides of these staires there runne 

up to the top very curious railes made of alabaster, and 

supported with pillars of the same. On the left hand as 

you goe up to the staires are the Dukes chambers, and The Duke s 

other roomes which belong properly to him and his family, chambers. 

On the right hand you go to the publique roomes wherein 

the Duke and the Senators sit about matters of State. 

The roome wherein the Duke doth usually sit in his 

throne with his greatest Counsellors, which is commonly 

called the Colledge or the Senate house, is a very magni- 



The Senate 

[p. 199.] 

The Council 

The great 
Council Hall. 

The benches of 
the Patricians. 

ficent and beautifull place, having a faire roofe sumptuously 
gilt, and beautified with many singular pictures that repre 
sent divers notable histories. At the higher end of this 
roome is the Dukes throne, and the picture of Venice 
made in the forme of a royal Queene, wearing a crowne 
upon her head, and crowning the Duke : This is the place 
where the Duke with his noble Peeres treateth about 
affaires of state, and heareth the Ambassadors both of 
forraine Nations, and of them that are sent from the cities 
subject to the Signiory of Venice. 

Also I was in another roome not farre from this, which 
is nothing so large, but very faire both for the sumptuous- 
nesse of the gilt roofe, and the curiosity of the pictures. 
In this place the great Councell sitteth, which is called 
Consilio di Dieci. Here I saw the picture of the Pope 
and the Emperour Carolus Quintus sitting together as 
they consulted and concluded matters at Bononia, with the 
picture of the Venetian Ambassador saluting them at that 
time, and other Ambassadours from other Princes. 

After that I went into a third roome, which was the 
sumptuousest of all, exceeding spacious, and the fairest 
that ever I saw in my life, either in mine owne countrey, 
or France, or any city of Italy, or afterward in Germany. 
Neither do I thinke that any roome of all Christendome 
doth excel it in beauty. This lyeth at the South side 
of the Palace, and looketh towards the See : it is called 
the great Councell Hall. For there is assembled some 
times the whole body of the Councell, which consisteth 
of one thousand and sixe hundred persons : there doe 
they give their suffrages and voyces for the election of 
the Magistrates of al degrees. This Hall is in length 
seventy paces, in bredth thirty two : the whole body of 
it saving a little that is left for foure walkes (whereof 
two are at the sides, and two more at the ends) is filled 
up with benches, in number nine, that are very faire and 
long. For they reach from one end to the other, except 
the little walkes at the ends. On these benches doe the 
Patricians sit when they are to debate any weighty matter: 



The South walke that is about these benches is sixteene 
foot broad, the rest something narrower : the roofe The roof of the 
whereof is of most incomparable beauty, as faire if not Council HalL 
fairer then the fairest roofe that is in the Loure, or the 
Tuilleries of the King of France in Paris, being wonderfull 
richly gilt with many sumptuous and curious borders, 
whreof three especially are passing glorious. Of which 
those two that are at the ends are round, and the third, 
which is the middle, square. All that which is compre 
hended within those borders is the curiousest painting that 
ever I saw done with such peerelesse singularity and [p- 200 -] 
quintessence of arte, that were Apelles alive I thinke it is 
impossible for him to excell it. In the first of these 
borders, even one of the round ones at the upper end of 
the roome, & next to the Dukes throne, is painted the The paintings 
picture of the Virgin Mary in marveilous rich ornaments, on the roo f- 
with an Angell crowning of her ; and many other very 
excellent pictures are contrived in the same. In the next 
border, which is square and made in the very middle of 
the roofe, is represented the Duke in his Ducal majesty, 
accompanied with the greatest Senators and Patricians, in 
their red damask long-sleeved gownes, lined with rich 
ermins. A little above the Duke is painted the Virgin 
Mary againe with a crowne on her head, attended with 
two Angels : shee feedes the winged Lyon with a branch 
of the Olive tree, by which is signified peace. Many other 
very faire pictures are made in the same border. Againe, 
in the last border, which is round & at the lower end of 
the roome, is painted a goodly flagge or streamer, wherein 
S. Markes armes are displayed, and the picture of an Angel 
is drawne in the same flagge. Under are armed men 
supporting a Queene on their shoulders, whereby is 
signified Venice, and the winged Lyon is painted hard 
by her. Againe, in the same border is represented a com 
pany of naked slaves, with fetters about their legges, and 
armour and helmets under their feete ; whereby are meant 
the victories and conquests of Venice inthralling her 
enemies, and bringing them into slavery and captivity. 



[p. 201.] 

The Duke s 


The East wall 
painted by 

Pictures of the 
Dukes of 

Likewise in a great multitude of prety plots besides, that 
are adorned with those gilt workes, are many singular 
beautifull pictures drawne, whereof most are of great 
battles and skirmishes that the Venetians have had with 
their enemies : also the wals round about are very excel 
lently painted in all places saving onely one voyde roome 
in the North wall, which is toward the Court. These 
pictures upon the wals are nothing else but Historicall 
descriptions of many auncient matters : as amongst the 
rest at the west end towards S. Markes streete, is painted 
the history of Pope Alexander the third, in his pontificall 
pompe, attended with a great many Cardinals and Senators 
of Venice, and under him Frederick Barbarossa alias 
^nobarbus the Emperour prostrate upon his knees. At 
the East end is the Dukes throne, with two pillars on both 
sides thereof gilt very richly : also at the sides of his 
throne there are the seates of some of the greatest Senators 
which are the assistants of the Duke. Their seats are a 
pretty way distant from those long benches that I have 
spoken of. All this East wall where the Dukes throne 
standeth is most admirably painted. For there is pre 
sented paradise, with Christ and the Virgin Mary at the 
top thereof, and the soules of the righteous on both sides. 
This workemanship, which is most curious and very 
delectable to behold, was done by a rare painter called 
Tinctoretus. Round about the wals are drawen the 
pictures of the Dukes in their Ducall ornaments, according 
to their degrees successively one after another, being made 
in the highest border of the wall next to the roofe, and 
above all the other pictures : these are distinguished one 
from another by certaine partitions which doe include a 
couple of them together : they goe not about all the foure 
wals ; for in the East wall nothing is painted but onely 
Paradise, which filleth up all that face of the wall. But 
these pictures are made onely in the South, North, and 
West wals : in the South, which is towards the sea are made 
thirty two pictures, in the North which is towards the 
Palace court thirty two more, and at the west end eleven : 



the pictures of the rest of the Dukes to Marino Grimanno, 

which was the immediate predecessor of this present Duke 

Leonardo Donato, being in number sixteene, are made 

in another very sumptuous roome, wherof I will hereafter 

speake. At the South side are five goodly windowes, with 

three degrees of glasse in them, each containing sixe [p- 202.] 

rowes : at the West end two windowes also ; before which 

are drawne two curtaines : at the North side two windowes The windows 

likewise. In every space betwixt each couple of windowes fs lass - 

are drawne many excellent pictures : at the West end this 

is written in the wall betwixt the two windowes in capitall 

blacke letters upon a ground of gold : Andreas Contareno 

Dux qui Clodianae classis Imperator servata patria atrocissi- 

mos hostes felicissime debellavit, M. CCC. Lxviii. vixit 

postea annos Xiiii. 

At the West end of this glorious Councell hall that I 
have now described, there is a passage into another most 
stately roome, which although it be inferiour unto this in Another 
beauty, yet it is very richly adorned : it is in length fifty statel y ro " 
three paces, in breadth twenty. At the South end is a 
tribunall for some great person to sit in, directly over the 
which this poesie is written in capitall blacke letters upon 
a ground of Gold, but surely the sense about the beginning 
of it is so difficult, and distastful to my understanding, that 
I for mine owne part doe not (I confesse) so well relish 
it. If thou dost (learned reader) thy capacity is more 
pregnant then mine. But when thou art once past (& pro 
multis perire malunt quam cum multis) the rest following 
is obvious to the understanding of every mean scholler that 
understandeth the Latin tongue. But I without altering 
the Venetians wordes will put them downe as I find them. 
Qui patriae pericula suo periculo expetunt, hi sapientes A hard 
putandi sunt, Cum & eum quem debent honorem reipub. inscri P tton - 
reddunt, & pro multis perire malunt quam cum multis. 
Etenim vehementer est iniquum, vitam quam a natura 
acceptam propter patriam conservaverimus, naturae cum 
cogat reddere, patriae cum roget non dare. Sapientes 
igitur existimandi sunt, qui nullum pro ratrise salute 



periculum vitant ; hoc vinculum est hujus dignitatis qua 
fruimur in repub : Hoc fundamentum libertatis, hie fons 
sequitatis. Mens & animus & consilium & sententia 
[p. 203.] civitatis sita est in legibus. Ut corpora nostra sine mente, 
sic ci vitas sine legibus suis partibus, ut nervis ac sanguine, 
& membris uti non potest. Legum ministri magistratus, 
legum interpretes judices. Legum denique idcirco omnes 
servi sumus, ut liberi esse possimus. 

Tintoretto s ^.11 the residue of this wall is filled up with the picture of 

*L*!tJiut- Christ & the Virgin Mary sitting in judgment, and the 
ment _ soules of the elect and reprobate about him. This also 

was done by the curious pensill of the foresaid Tinctoretus. 
The roofe is very sumptuously gilt, and adorned with 
sundry fine pictures ; in the middle whereof are two 
square roomes filled with gallant pictures of battailes, and 
in the same middle, three round roomes more filled up 
with pictures of other skirmishes. In each side of this 
middle are made two round places richly gilt, within which 
are drawne many excellent pictures likewise : every dis 
tance of the wall which is betwixt window and window 
round about the roome, is beautified with sundry delicate 
The picture of pictures, amongst the rest the picture of the famous battall 
the battle of of Lepanto heretofore called Naupactus a maritime towne 
Naupactus. Q f Achaia where the Christian fleete got that most glorious 
victory of the Turkes as I have before said Anno 1571. 
this picture is most artificially done in the East wall. 
There is one vacant roome which is not yet filled up in 
the side of this East wall hard by the picture of the 
battaile of Lepanto. In the West side are foure windows 
towards Saint Markes place. Two at the North at the 
comming in from up the staires which leade from the 
Palace Court, and two more in the East towards the Court. 
About the South wall immediately under the roofe, are 
made more of the pictures of the Dukes in that manner 
as they are in the great Councell hall, and so are continued 
in the East wall till the picture of Marino Grimmanno 
this Dukes predecessour, of which pictures there are six- 
teene as I have before said. 



One thing more there is in this magnificent and 
beautifull Palace, which (as I have heard many that have [p. 204.] 
seene it report) is the fairest ornament of the whole Palace, 
even the armoury, which it was not my fortune to see, The Armoury. 
for the which I have often since not a little repented, 
because the not seeing of it hath deprived mee of much 
worthy matter, that would have added great lustre to this 
description of the Dukes Palace. For indeed it is a thing 
of that beauty and riches that very fewe have accesse unto 
it but great personages, neither can any man whatsoever 
be permitted to see it without a speciall mandate under 
the hand of one of the Councell of ten. I would advise 
any English Gentleman of speciall marke that determineth 
to see Venice in his travels, to use all meanes for obtaining 
the sight of this roome. For many Gentlemen that have 
beene very famous and great travellers in the principall 
countries of Christendome, have told me that they never 
saw so glorious an armoury for the quantitie thereof, in 
the whole course of their travels. Here they say is 
marvellous abundance of armour of all sorts, and that 
most curiously gilt and enameled, as helmets, shields, 
belts, speares, swords, launces : the store being so great 
that it is thought it can well arme ten thousand men, and 
the beautie so incomparable that no armoury of Christen 
dome doth match it. This is said to be the first occasion The occasion of 
that they gathered so much armour together to the Dukes the gathering 
Palace, according to the relation of certaine English O f thearmour - 
Gentlemen of good quality in Venice, from whom I have 
derived this ensuing history. A Gentleman of the 
Patrician rank that was a man of an ambitious spirit, 
intending to depose him that was Duke, and to place 
himselfe in the Dukedom, spake privately to every 
particular Senator and Patrician of the whole citie to lend 
him an armed man, to the end to assist him in a certaine 
businesse that he undertook, and to send him to his house 
which was neare to the Rialto. This matter he handled 
so cunningly, that no 2 Gentlemen whatsoever did know [p. 205.] 
of this provision he made for men, though indeed all of 



A cunning them understood of it, yet so that every man privately 
devtce - and severally had intelligence thereof, but not two or three 

in common. For belike he injoyned every Gentleman to 
conceale it for a time to himselfe. After he had thus 
agreed with all the Gentlemen that each should send him a 
man, there came to his house a great multitude well armed 
at a certayne houre, with whom he himselfe being likewise 
well appointed, marched as their Captaine over the Rialto 
bridge towards Saint Markes, not communicating to any 
one of them his secret intent. Having thus marched 
with his followers through the street called the Merceria, 
all the people much wondering at him by the way what 
he meant by assembling so great a multitude of armed 
men ; as he was upon entering into St. Markes place 
through the sumptuous gate where the clocke standeth, 
of which I have before spoken, there hapned a very 
disastrous accident that confounded and frustrated his 
A project whole designement. For a certaine maide that looked out 
confounded by o f fa & wmc j ow hard by the gate to see the company, had 
pestle ^7 chance a pestell of a mortar in her hand, with which she 

was powning in the said mortar at the very instant that 
they passed by ; and whereas she looked out of the 
window with other, to see what was doing, her pestell 
which she then held in her hand, not intending any hurt 
with it, fell casually much against her will upon the head 
of the Ring-leader of this company, which strooke out his 
braines, and so by that dismall chance hee died in the place, 
being defeated of the effect of his project, for the 
execution whereof he assembled so many armed men ; 
otherwise by force of armes hee had eritred with his whole 
troupe of men into the Sala, where the Duke sat about 
the publicke affairs with the other Senators ; and had 
surprized and massacred them al, and placed himselfe in 
the Dukedome. The window through the which the 
[p. 206.] maide looked when her pestell fell on the Captaines head 
is yet shewed for a monument neare to the gate, at the 
entring of Saint Markes. After that time his Palace 
which was near to the Rialto, was alienated from his 



posterity, and converted to a shambles which I saw. Upon 

this occasion, the Senate thought good to furnish that 

Sala wherein this bloudy exploite should have been acted, 

with convenient armour to serve for their defence if the 

like occasion should ever happen againe. The Palace was The Palace 

heretofore covered with lead, but because it hath been Mtdmih 

often burnt, it is now covered with brasen plates, that 

serve in steede of tile. 

Thus much concerning the Dukes Palace. 

NExt unto the Dukes Palace the beautifull Church of The Church of 
Saint Marke doth of its owne accord as it were offer 
it selfe now to be spoken off. Which though it be but 
little, yet it is exceeding rich, and so sumptuous for the 
statelinesse of the architecture, that I thinke very few in 
Christendome of the bignesse doe surpasse it. It is 
recorded, that it had the first beginning of the foundation 
in the yeare 829. which was full twenty yeares after the 
building of the Dukes Palace adjoyning unto it ; many 
pillars, and other notable matter being brought thither 
from Athens, and divers other places of Greece, for the 
better grace of the fabricke. And it is built in that 
manner that the modell of it doth truly resemble our 
Saviours Crosse. Truly, so many are the ornaments of 
this glorious Church, that a perfect description of them 
will require a little volume. The principall whereof I 
will relate by way of an epitome, according to that slender 
and inelegant manner that I have hitherto continued this 
discourse of Venice. The pavement of this Church is so Pavement of 
passing curious, that I thinke no Church in Christendome cfiec ^ er 
can shew the like. For the pavement of the body of the 
Church, the Quire, and the walkes round about before [p- 2 7-l 
you come within the body, are made of sundry little pieces 
of Thasian, Ophiticall, and Laconicall marble in checker 
worke, and other most exquisite conveyances, and those, 
of many severall colours, that it is very admirable and 
rare to behold, the rarenesse such that it doth even amaze 
all strangers upon their first view thereof. The west 



The West front towards St. Marks street is most beautifull, having 
five severall partitions, unto which there belong as many 
brasen dores, whereof the middle, through which they 
usully go into the Church, is made of solid brasse, the 
other foure in the forme of latteise windowes. This front, 
is very stately adorned with beautifull pillars of marble, 
wherof in one part of the front, I told a hundred and 
two and fifty, in the higher two and forty. In all one 
hundred fourescore and fourteene. Some greater, some 
lesser. Some of one colour and some of another. At the 
sides of the great gate are eight rich pillars of porphyrie, 
foure in one side, and as many in another, whereof each 
would be worth twenty pound with us in England. Over 
the toppe of this middle gate is to be scene a very ancient 
The brazen and remarkable monument, foure goodly brasen * horses 
horses on the m ade o f Corinthian mettall, and fully as great as the life. 
Some say they were cast by Lysippus that singular statuary 
of Alexander the great above three hundred years before 
Christ ; some say that the Romans made them at what 
time Hiero King of Syracuse triumphed of the Parthians, 
and placed them in a certaine arch that they dedi 
cated to him. It is reported that Tyridates King of 
Armenia bestowed them on the Emperour Nero, when 
he was entertained by him in Rome with such pompous 
magnificence, as is mentioned by Tacitus and Suetonius. 
And that Constantine the Great brought them from 
Rome to Constantinople, and therehence they were lastly 
brought to Venice by the Venetians, when they possessed 
Constantinople. At what time they brought many other 
[p. 208.] notable things from that City, for the better ornament 
both of their publique and private buildings. These 
horses are advanced on certaine curious and beautifull 
pillars, to the end they may be the more conspicuous and 
eminent to be seene of every person. Of their forefeete, 
there is but one set on a pillar, and that is of porphyrie 
marble, the other foote he holdeth up very bravely in his 

* These horses were brought to Venice in the time of their Duke 
Petrus Zanus which was about the yeare of our Lord 1206. 



pride, which maketh an excellent shew. The two hinder 

feete are placed upon two prety pillars of marble, but not 

porphyrie. Two of these horses are set on one side of 

that beautifull alabaster border full of imagery and other 

singular devices, which is advanced over the middle great 

brasse gate at the comming into the Church, and the other 

two on the other side. Which yeeldeth a marvailous 

grace to this frontispice of the Church, and so greatly they 

are esteemed by the Venetians, that although they have A noble offer. 

beene offered for them their weight in gold by the King 

of Spaine, as I have heard reported in Venice, yet they 

will not sell them. 

I observed another very memorable monument within the 
first great gate, which is betwixt that gate and the opposite 
brasen gate at the going into the body of the Church, 
which is also made of massy brasse, namely a great stone 
formed and cut according to the fashion of diamond pavier, 
in the middle whereof is made a prety checker worke 
garnished with divers little pieces of marble of sundry 
colours. On this little worke which is in the middest 
of the said stone did Fredericus \ Barbarossa the 
Emperour lay downe his necke as a foote-stoole to Pope A footstool for 
Alexander the third to treade upon it, Anno 1166. who the Pope. 
indeed (as sundry historians doe report) laid one of his 

feet upon it, and most blasphemously and prophanely 
abused a notable place of Scripture, which he tooke out 
of one of the Psalmes of David, even this : Super Aspidem 
& Basiliscum ambulabis, & caput Draconis conculcabis. 
The Pope pronounced it in that manner as if it were 
applied properly and peculiarly to his owne person, when [p. 209.] 
he did so tyrannically insult upon the good Emperour, 
though the holy Prophet meant only Christ, and his 
vanquishing of the Devill and the power of hell. It is 

| Sebastianus Zani was then duke of Venice when this hapned. 

I 1 have read in histories of two examples like unto this. The one of 
the Emperour Velerian who subjected himselfe in the same manner 
to Sapor King of Persia, and the other of Bajazeth the great Turke who 
did the like to Tamberlan. 



The Marquess 

Picture of 
S. Mark. 

[p. 210.] 

brought from 

written that the Emperour should say unto the Pope when 
his foote was upon his necke, Non tibi sed Petro. And 
that the Pope should reply thus : Et mihi, & Petro. I 
have read that whereas many Princes stood by the 
Emperour when he was thus prostrate at the Popes feete, 
one amongst the rest was Theodorus Marquesse of Misnia, 
who being exceedingly inflamed with anger at the sight 
of the Popes intollerable insolency, ranne to the Emperour 
with a kind of threatning gesture, and eyes as it were 
sparkling fire through wrath, to the end to take him up 
from the ground ; whereupon the Pope being much 
affrighted insinuated himselfe to the Emperour with kisses, 
and flattering embracings, in so much that he would not 
suffer himselfe to be pulled away from the Emperour, till 
he had throughly compounded upon termes of security. 
Truly it gave me no small contentment to see this notable 
monument of the Popes most barbarous and unchristian 
tyrannic, because I had much read of it in many histories 
before. Over the gate as you passe into the body of the 
Church, is to be scene the picture of St. Marke (if at the 
least a man may properly call such a piece of worke a 
picture) made most curiously with pieces of marble (as I 
conceive it) exceeding little, all gilt over in a kinde of 
worke very common in this Church, called Mosaicall 
worke. He is made looking up to heaven with his 
hands likewise elevated, and that wearing of a marvailous 
rich cope, under whom this is written in faire letters : Ubi 
diligenter inspexeris, artemque & laborem Francisci & 
Valerii Zucati Venetorum fratrum agnoveris, turn demum 
judicato. Above which inscription is added the yeare of 
our Lord, M. D. XLV. 

Also, there is another most auncient monument to be 
scene in the walke betwixt the five gates at the entrance, 
and the body of the Church, certaine goodly pillars in 
number eight, foure at one gate, and as many at another, 
two on each side of the gate. These are reported to have 
beene brought from the house of Pontius Pilate in Jeru 
salem, first from Jerusalem to Constantinople, and there- 



hence to Venice. They have beene so cracked and broken 
in the carriage that there is no weight put upon the Capi- 
tella, or Chapiters of them, as upon the other pillars heads, 
for fear least they should be broken in pieces. Each of Veined 
these pillars is distinguished with sundry colours of marble, mar ^ e - 
having many white and blacke veines which doe make a 
very faire shew, and the Chapiters or heads of them are 
very curiously wrought with dainty workes in white stone. 
On the right hand of the Church as you goe in, even 
at the south corner, there is a very faire little Chappel A fair little 
having a sumptuous Altar that is adorned with a very cha P el - 
curious roofe, and two goodly pillars of Parian marble at 
the sides, of wonderfull faire workemanship, wherein are 
finely made clusters of grapes, and other borders exceeding 
well expressed. At both the endes of the Altar are made 
two great Lyons in porphyrie, whereof that on the right 
hand leaneth on a little child, the other on the left hand on 
a sheepe. Over the Altar these Images are made in 
brasse, one of our Lady and Christ in her armes, the 
second which is on the right hand of her, St. John Baptist 
in his Eremitical habits ; the third, which is on the left 
hand, St. Peter with his keyes in his hands. In the middle 
of this Chappel there is a sumptuous brasse Tombe of a A cardinal s 
certaine Cardinal, at the hither side whereof this Epitaph tomb - 
is written. Joanni Baptistae Zeno Pauli secundi ex sorore 
nepoti S S, Romanse Ecclesise Cardinali meritisimo Senatus 
Venetus cum propter eximiam ipsius sapientiam, turn 
singularem pietatem ac munificentiam in Patriam quam 
amplissimo Legato moriens prosequutus est. M. P. P. C. 
aetatis anno Lxiii. obiit. M. D. I. die viii. Maii, hora xii. [p. 211.] 
Upon the Tombe, is made at length, the whole proportion 
of his body with his Cardinals habits. By the sides of 
the Tombe three little Images also are made in brasse. 
The pavement of this Chappel is made of diamond worke 
with marble of divers colours, and at the entrance a two 
leafed brasen gate. The inner walles of the ; Church are 

| This is the same that was called of the auncient writers Opus 
musiuum. Adrian Turnebus Adversa. lib. I. cap. 17. 

35 1 


Pictures in 
wsatc tootk. 


of mosaic 

beautified with a great multitude of pictures gilt, and 
contrived in Mosaical worke, which is nothing else but 
a p ret y k mc [ o f picturing consisting altogether of little 
pieces and very small fragments of gilt marble, which are 
square, and halfe as broade as the naile of a mans finger ; 
of which pieces there concurreth a very infinite company 
to the making of one of these pictures. I never saw any 
of this kind of picturing before I came to Venice, nor ever 
either read or heard of it, of which Saint Marks Church 
is full in every wall and roofe. It is said that they 
imitate the Grecians in these Mosaical workes. For indeed 
in the Greekish Church in this City, whereof I will here 
after speake, I saw many of them, not only their pictures 
or effigies (for I doubt whether picture be a proper word 
to expresse the matter, because it is not done with the 
pensill) are made of this worke, but also all the walles 
within side, and the round roofes of the Church within, 
whereof there are eleven in all. One over the middle 
of the body of the Church, from which is let downe a 
goodly brasen candlesticke. Three over another part of 
the body which is neare to the Quire, and one more over 

LP- 2I2 -J 

. , n r i i 

the outside, and doe make very goodly raire globes as it 
were, seene a prety way off which yeeld a great grace to 
the Church. Also, at the west end of the Church in the 
walke which is without the body, are three more of those 
Mosaical round roofes full of those pictures or effigies as 
the other within the Church, and another square, of a 
greater heigth then the rest, wherein is painted the Crosse 
o f Christ, not with Christ upon it, but only the Crosse 
alone by it selfe with a thorny crowne upon it. 
And foure Angels by the sides of it : And a little way 
farther two companies of Angels more, one on the right 
hand of the Crosse, and another on the left, with Lilies 
in their hands. Againe, in the north side of the Church 
wherein is another of those walkes without the body, are 
three more of those Mosaical vaulted roofes full of 
which doe make up the full number of the 




foresaid eleven. Most of these pictures have either 
names which expresse the same, or Latin Poesies in verse, 
or both made by them. 

Over the middle of the body is hanged a kind of silke A silk mantle. 
mantle, fairely wrought with needle worke in gold and 
silver, having five flaps that hang downe at the end thereof. 
In the middle of it this is written in golden letters : 
Verona fidelis, and above, the yeare of our Lord M. D. 

I saw in the body of the Church a very rich stone called 4 r ufl a a( e- 
an Agat, about two foote long, and as broad as the palme 
of a mans hand, which is valued at tenne thousand duckats 
at the least. This is on the right hand of the Church as 
you goe into the Quire from the West gate. The corners 
whereof I saw broken ; which I heard happened by this 
meanes. A certaine Jew hid himselfe all night in a corner J ew s cunning. 
of this Church, and when all the gates were locked, he 
tried to pul up the stone with pinsers and some other 
instruments ; but he failed in his enterprise, because the 
stone was so fast souldered into the ground that he could 
not with all his cunning pull it up ; being apprehended 
in the Church the next morning before he could make an 
evasion, he was presently hanged for his labour in St. 
Markes place. 

On the left hand as you goe into the Quire, is a A fair pulpit. 
very faire Pulpit supported with eleven rich pillars of 
changeable-coloured marble : at the toppe whereof there 
is a round place supported with sixe pillars more of 
Porphyrie. Also right opposite unto this Pulpit on the [? 2I 3-] 
right hand is another faire round thing made in the forme 
of a Pulpit, wherein the Singing men do sing upon 
Sundaies and festivall daies. This roome is supported 
with nine pillars more of very curious marble. 

Over the entrance of the Quire is made the Image of 
Christ hanging on the Crosse, and, seven brasen images 
on each side of him. The high Altar is very faire, but 
especially that inestimable rich table heretofore brought 
from Constantinople, which is above the Altar : that table 
c. c. 353 z 


The high is never shewed but onely upon some speciall feast day, 
altar. being most commonly covered by certaine devices that 

they have, and another meaner table standeth usually upon 
it. This table is the fairest that ever I saw, which indeed 
I saw but once, onely upon the feast of our Ladies assump 
tion, which was the fift day of August : it is marvellous 
richly wrought in gold, and silver, with many curious 
little images, such as we call in Latin imagunculse or 
icunculse. And the upper part of it most sumptuously 
adorned with abundance of pretious stones of great value 
that doe exceedingly beautifie the worke. I think it is 
worth at the least ten thousand pounds. Over this Altar 
Ophitical i s a most beautiful concamerated roofe of rich *Ophiticall 
marble. marble, and supported with foure passing faire pillars at 
the corners made of Parian marble, wherein are very 
artificially represented many histories of the old and new 
Testament. In this Quire I saw two and twenty goodly 
Candlestickes, hanged up with chains, the fairest that ever 
I saw. At both sides of it are two exceeding faire payre 
The pair of of Organes, whose pipes are silver, especially those on the 
organs. ] e ft hand as you come in from the body of the Church, 
having the brasen winged Lyon of S. Marks on the top, 
and the images of two Angels at the sides : under them 
this is written in faire golden letters, Hoc rarissimum opus 
Urbanus Venetus F. 

There are three very notable and auncient monuments 

[p. 214.] kept in this Church, besides those that I have above 

mentioned, being worthy to be seene by an industrious 

traveller, if that be true which they report of it. The 

5. Mark s first is the body of S. Marke the Evangelist and Patron 

body. O f Venice, which was brought hither by certaine Merchants 

from Alexandria in Egypt (where he lived a long time, 

and died a glorious martyr of Jesus Christ) in the year 

810. To whose honor they built this Church about nine- 

teene yeares after, and made him the Patron of their Citie. 

*This word is derived from the Greeke 6</>ts which signifieth a 
Serpent because the forme of Serpents is most curiously expressed in 
this kinde of marble by the hand of nature herselfe. 



The second, his Gospell written in Greeke with his owne S. Mark s 
hand : the sight of these two worthy things to my great Gospel. 
griefe I omitted. The third is the picture of the Virgin 
Mary, which they say was made by S. Luke the Evan 
gelist : but that is altogether uncertaine whether Luke 5. Luke s 
were a painter or no. That he was a Physition we reade P lciure f the 
in the holy \ Scriptures, but not that he was a painter. 
This picture is adorned with exceeding abundance of 
pretious stones, and those of great worth ; and the hue 
of it doth witnesse that it is very auncient. It was my 
hap to see it twise ; once when it was presented all the 
day upon the high Altar of this Church, upon the great 
feast day of our Ladies assumption, at what time I saw 
that rich table also, whereof I have before spoken. 
Secondly when it was carried about St. Markes place in 
a solemne procession, in the which the Duke, the Senators, 
the Gentlemen of the Citie, the Clergie, and many other 
both men and women walked. This was in the time of 
a great drougth, when they prayed to God for raine. For 
they both say and beleeve that this picture hath so great Venetians 
virtue, as also that of Padua, whereof I have before su P eriti *>> 
spoken, that whensoever it is carried abroad in a solemne 
procession in the time of a great drougth it will cause 
rain to descend from heaven either before it is brought 
backe into the Church, or very shortly after. For mine 
owne part I have had some little experience of it, and 
therefore I will censure the matter according as I finde [P- 2I 5-1 
it. Surely that either pictures or images should have 
that vertue to draw droppes from heaven, I never read 
either in Gods word, or any other authenticke Author. 
So that I cannot be induced to attribute so much to the 
vertue of a picture, as the Venetians do, except I had 
seene some notable miracle wrought by the same. For 
it brought no drops at all with it : onely about two 
dayes after it rained (I must needes confesse) amaine. 
But I hope they are not so superstitious to ascribe that 
to the vertue of their picture. For it is very likely it 

t Col. 4. 1 4. 


The Treasury 
ofS. Mark. 

[p. 216.] 


would have rained at that time, though they had not at 
all carried their picture abroad. Therefore, except it doth 
at other times produce greater effects then it did when 
I was in Venice, in my opinion that religious relique of 
our Ladies picture, so devoutly worshipped and honoured 
of the Venetians, hath no more vertue in working miracles 
then any other that is newly come forth of the painters 

The last notable thing that is in the Church with relation 
whereof I will shut up this Discourse of S. Markes 
Church, is the treasure of Saint Marke kept in a certaine 
Chappell in the south side of the Church neere to the 
stately porch of the Dukes Palace. But here methinks 
I use the figure hysteron proteron, in that I conclude 
my tract of St. Markes Church with that which was 
worthiest to be spoken of at the beginning. For this 
treasure is of that inestimable value, that it is thought no 
treasure whatsoever in any one place of Christendome may 
compare with it, neyther that of St. Denis in France, which 
I have before described, nor St. Peters in Rome, nor that 
of Madona de Loretto in Italy, nor that of Toledo in 
Spaine, nor any other. Therefore I am sorry I must 
speake so little of it. For I saw it not though I much 
desired it, because it is very seldome shewed to any 
strangers but only upon St. Markes day ; therefore that 
little which I report of it is by the tradition of other men, 
not of mine owne certaine knowledge. Here they say 
is kept marveilous abundance of rich stones of exceeding 
worth, as Diamonds, Carbuncles, Emerauds, Chrysolites, 
Jacinths, and great pearles of admirable value : also three 
Unicorns homes ; an exceeding great Carbuncle which 
was bestowed upon the Senate by the Cardinall Grimannus, 
and a certaine Pitcher adorned with great variety of 
pretious stones, which Usumcassanes King of Persia 
bestowed upon the Signiory, with many other things of 
wonderful value, which I must needes omit, because I saw 
none of them. 

Thus much concerning S. Markes Church. 

35 6 


THere is near unto the Dukes Palace a very faire The town 
prison, the fairest absolutely that ever I saw, being P rtion - 
divided from the Palace by a little channell of water, and 
againe joyned unto it, by a merveilous faire little gallery 
that is inserted aloft into the middest of the Palace wall 
East-ward. I thinke there is not a fairer prison in all 
Christendome : it is built with very faire white ashler 
stone having a little walke without the roomes of the 
prison, which is forty paces long and seven broad. For I 
meated it : which walke is fairly vaulted over head, and 
adorned with seven goodly arches, each whereof is sup 
ported with a great square stone pillar. The outside of 
these pillars is curiously wrought with pointed diamond 
worke. In the higher part of the front towards the water 
there are eight pretty pillars of free-stone, betwixt which 
are seven iron windowes for the prisoners above to looke 
through : In the lower part of the prison where the 
prisoners do usually remaine, there are six windows, three 
on each side of the dore, whereof each hath two rowes of 
great iron barres, one without and the other within : each 
row containing ten barres that ascend in heigth to the 
toppe of the window, and eighteene more that crosse those 
tenne. So that it is altogether impossible for the prisoners [p. 217.] 
to get forth. Betwixt the first row of windows in the 
outside, and another within, there is a little space or an 
entry for people to stand in that will talke with the 
prisoners, who lie within the inner windowes that are but 
single barred. The West side of the prison which is neare 
to the Dukes Palace is very curiously wrought with pointed 
diamond worke, with three rowes of crosse-barred iron 
windowes in it, whereof each row containeth eleven 
particulars : it is reported that this prison is so contrived, 
that there are a dozen roomes under the water, and that A watery 
the water doth oftentimes distill into them from above, annoyance. 
to the great annoyance of the prisoners that lodge there. 
Before this prison was built, which was not (as I heard 
in Venice) above ten years since, the towne prison was 
under the Dukes Palace, where it is thought certain 



Gunpowder prisoners being largely hired by the King of Spaine, con- 
plot. spired together to blow up the Palace with gun-powder, 

as the Papists would have done the Parliament house in 
England. Whereupon the Senate thought good having 
executed those prisoners that were conspirators in that 
bloudy desseigne, to remove the rest to another place, 
and to build a prison in the place where this now standeth. 

Thus much of the prison. 

The Arsenal. T Was at the Arsenall which is so called, quasi ars 
A navalis, because there is exercised the Art of making 
tackling, and all other necessary things for shipping. 
Certainely I take it to be the richest and best furnished 
storehouse for all manner of munition both by Sea and 
Land not only of all Christendome, but also of all the 
world, in so much that all strangers whatsoever are moved 
with great admiration when they contemplate the situation, 
the greatnesse, the strength, and incredible store of pro 
vision thereof ; yea I have often read that when as in the 

[p. 218.] time of Charles the fifth a certaine great Prince that hapned 
to lie in Venice, one Albertus Marquesse of Guasto the 
Emperours Generall of his forces in Italy, came into this 
Arsenall : he was so desirous to survay all the particular 
furnitures and tacklings thereof, that hee spent a whole day 
in viewing the same, and in the evening when he went 

The eighth forth, being rapt with admiration, he called it the eight 

miracle of the miracle of the world, and said, that were he put to his 
choice to be lord either of foure of the strongest cities 
of Italy or of the Arsenall, he would preferre the Arsenall, 
before them. It is situate at the East end of the citie, in 
compasse two miles, and fortified with a strong wall that 
goeth round about it, in which are built many faire towers 
for the better ornament thereof. There are continually 
one thousand five hundred men working in it, unto whom 
there is paid every weeke two thousand crownes which doe 
amount to sixe hundred pound sterling, in the whole yeare 
twenty eight thousand and sixe hundred pound. Also 
those workemen that have wrought so long in the Arsenall 



that they are become decrepit and unable to worke any 

longer, are maintained in the same at the charge of the 

citie during their lives. Here are alwaies kept two 

hundred and fifty gallies, each having a severall roome 

fairely roofed over to cover and defend it from the injury 

of the weather, and fifty more are alwaies at Sea. The The richest 

fairest gaily of all is the Bucentoro, the upper parts S alle y f" 11 

whereof in the outside are richly gilt. It is a thing of 

marvailous worth, the richest gallic of all the world ; 

for it cost one hundred thousand crownes which is 

thirty thousand pound sterling. A worke so exceeding 

glorious that I never heard or read of the like in any 

place of the world, these onely excepted, viz : that of 

Cleopatra, which she so exceeding sumptuously adorned 

with cables of silke and other passing beautifull ornaments ; 

and those that the Emperour Caligula built with timber 

of Ceder and poupes and sternes of ivory. And lastly 

that most incomparable and peerelesse ship of our Gracious [p. 219.] 

Prince called the Prince Royall, which was launched at 

Wollige about Michaelmas last, which indeed doth by 

many degrees surpasse this Bucentoro of Venice, and any 

ship else (I believe) in Christendome. In this galley the 

Duke launceth into the sea some few miles off upon the 

Ascention day, being accompanied with the principall The betrothal 

Senators and Patricians of the citie, together with all the f the sea - 

Ambassadors and personages of greatest marke that happen 

to be in the citie at that time. At the higher end there 


is a most sumptuous gilt Chaire for the Duke to sit in, 
at the backe whereof there is a loose boord to be lifted 
up, to the end he may looke into the Sea through that 
open space, and throw a golden ring into it, in token that 
he doth as it were betroth himselfe unto the sea, as the 
principall Lord and Commander thereof. A ceremony 
that was first instituted in Venice by Alexander the third 
Pope of that name, when Sebastianus Zanus was Duke, 
1 1 74. unto whom hee delivered a golden ring from his 
own finger, in token that the Venetians having made warre 
upon the Emperour Fredericke Barbarossa in defence of 



his quarrell, discomfited his fleete at Istria, and he com 
manded him for his sake to throw the like golden ring into 
the sea every yeare upon Ascention day during his life, 
establishing this withall, that all his successors should doe 
the like ; which custome hath been ever since observed 
to this day. The rowers of the galley sit in a lower part 
thereof, which are in number forty two ; the images of 
Gilt statues, five slaves are most curiously made in the upper part of 
the galley, and richly gilt standing near to the Dukes 
seate on both sides. A little from them are made twenty 
gilt statues more in the same row where the other five 
stand, which is done at both sides of the galley. And 
whereas there are two long benches made in the middle 
for great personages to sit on, over each of these benches 
[p. 220.] are erected tenne more gilt images which doe yeeld a 
wondrous ornament to the galley. At the end of one of 
these middle benches is erected the statue of George 
Scanderbeg. Castriot alias Scanderbeg Despot of Servia, & King of 
Epirus, who fought many battels for the faith of Christ 
and the Christian religion against the Turkes, of whom 
he got many glorious victories. His statue is made all 
at length according to the full proportion of a mans body, 
and sumptuously gilt. Right opposite unto which there 
standeth the image of Justice which is likewise gilt, at 
the very end of the galley holding a sword in her hand. 
This galley will contain twelve hundred & twenty persons. 
At each end without are made two exceeding great winged 
Lyons as beautifully gilt as the rest. It is said that the 
Furnishings Arsenall is able to furnish of all men both by sea and 
for 150,000 land about a hundred and fifty thousand. I was in one of 
men - their armouries which containeth three severall roomes, 

whereof the first armour onely for sea men, so much as 
would arme men enough to furnish fifty Galleys : the 
second for sixe hundred footemen : there I saw abundance 
of helmets, shields, breastplates, swords, &c. Their 
swordes were prettily placed upon some dores opposite to 
each other, where some were set compasse-wise, some 
athwart and a crosse, some one way and some another, 



with such witty and pretty invention, that a man could 
not but commend the deviser thereof. I went to their 
places where they make their Anchors, and saw some 
making : also I saw great peeces of Ordinance making, Mating of 
whereof they have in the whole Arsenal at the least sixe ordnance. 
thousand, which is more then twelve of the richest 
armouries of al Christendome have. Also I was in 
other roomes where was much canvasse and thred, 
and many other necessaries to make sailes. In one 
large roome whereof there is prettily painted in a 
wall the History of the warres betwixt the Venetians 
under the conduct of their Generall Captaine Barthel- 
mew Coleon of Bergomo, and the Emperor at Padua, [? 22I 
where I saw their armies couragiously confronting 
each other, and the Imperialists by certaine witty strata 
gems that Barthelmew Coleon devised, were shamefully 
put to flight. Also I saw their roome wherein they make 
nothing but ropes and cables, others wherein they make 
onely Oares, and others also wherein they make their 
Anchors. Many other notable things were to be seene 
here, as many spoiles taken from the Turkes at the battell Spoils taken 
of Lepanto, Anno 1571, &c. which by reason of a certaine f rom the 
sinister accident that hapned unto mee when I was in the s 
Arsenall, I could not see. 

I have read that the Arsenall was extremely wasted The Arsenal 
with fire in the time of their Duke Peter Lauredanus, conium ^ 
which was about the yeare 1568, much of their munition 
being utterly consumed to nothing, and that the noyse 
of the fire was so hideous that it was heard at the least 
forty miles from Venice. But since that time it hath been 
so well repaired that I think it was never so faire as at 
this present. Thus much of the Arsenall. 

I ^He Church dedicated to St. John and Paul which The chunk of 
A belongeth to the Dominican Friers, is a very glorious 
worke both without and within. For the whole front 
of it is built of pure alabaster, wherein are contrived many 
curious borders, Images, Lyons, as the armes of St. Marke, 



Monuments of &c. Within it is adorned with sundry monuments of 
the Dukes. worthy persons, especially of their Dukes, whereof many 
doe lye interred here. Amongst the rest the body of that 
famous and well deserving Prince Leonardus Lauredanus 
Duke of Venice, doth lye under a marvailous beautifull 
and rich gilt Altar, which is garnished with many religious 
pictures. On the right hand of which Altar as you come 
into the Quire, there is a passing faire monument erected 
to the honour of the said Duke with foure very lofty pillars 
[p. 222.] O f alabaster, the base whereof is made of touch stone. 
In the middle betwixt these two paire of pillars is erected 
the statue of the Duke in alabaster in his Ducal ornaments, 
with a woman on one side of him carrying of a flagge, and 
a man on the other bearing of a target, and a speare under 
the statue of him. There I read this Epitaph written in 
great letters of gold upon a piece of touch stone. 

D. O. M. 

Leonardo Lauredano Principi totius fere Europas urbium 
Cameracensi foedere in rem Venetam conspirantium furore 
compresso, Patavio obsidione levato, fortunis & filiis pro 
communi salute objectis, terrestris imperii post acerbis- 
simum bellum pristina amplitudine vindicata, dignitate & 
pace reipub. restituta, eaque difficillimo tempore conservata 
& optime gesta, Pio, Forti, Prudenti Leonardus abnepos 
P. C. vixit annos Ixxxiii. in Ducatu xix. obiit. M.D. XIX. 
There is an exceeding faire chappell in this Church situate 
at the north side thereof, which is beautified with a rich 
Altar, many faire tables, and a passing glorious roofe most 
richly gilt. Neare to this chappel there is erected the 
Image of a gallant Knight gilt, and sitting on horse-backe. 
Under whom this Epitaph is written on the side of a 
stony coffin. Leonardum Pratum militem fortissimum & 
ex provocatione semper victorem, Praefectum Ferdinandi 
Junioris & Frederici Regum Neapolitanorum, ob virtutem 
terrestribus navalibusque praeliis, felicissimis, magnis, 
clarissimisque rebus pro Veneta repub. gestis, pugnantem 
ab hoste cassum Leonardus Lauredanus Princeps & amplis- 


Epitaph of 


simus ordo Senatorms prudentiae & fortitudinis ergo statua 
hac equestri donandum censuit. 

In the south side of the Church is erected another statue of 
gilt statue of a certaine noble Prince called Ursinus, on PrinceUnino. 
horse-backe, as the other, with this Epitaph underneath 
upon the side of a stony coffin. Nicolao Ursino Nolae 
Petilianique Principi longe clarissimo, Senensium Floren- 
tinique populi H. Sixti Innocentii, Alexandri Pont. Max. 
Ferdinandi Alphonsique Junioris Reg. Neapolitanorum [p. 223.] 
Imp. felicissimo, Venetae demum reipub. per xv. annos 
magnis clarissimisque rebus gestis, novissime a gravissima 
omnium obsidione Patavio conservato, virtutis ac fidei 
singularis. S.V.M.H.P.P. obiit aetatis anno Ixviii. 
M.D.IX. Againe, in another corner of the Church, 
about the south end, there is a prety monument erected Monument to 
to the honour of an English Baron even the Lord Windsor, LordWindur. 
Grandfather to the right Honourable Thomas Lord 
Windsor now living. At the toppe whereof there 
standeth a Pyramis of red marble. And this Epitaph 
is written under. Odoardo Windsor Anglo, Illus. 
parentibus orto, qui dum religionis quadam abundantia, 
vitas probitate, & suavitate morum omnibus charus 
clarusque vitam degeret, immatura morte correpto, cele- 
berrimis exequiis decorate, Georgius Lewhnor affinis poni 
curavit. obiit anno D.M.D. Lxxiiii. die Mensis Januarii 
xxiiii. aetatis suae xxxxii. 

Towards the west end of the Church, but in the south A moving 
wall, I read this Epitaph written in golden letters upon epitaph. 
a peece of touch stone, over which is erected the statue 
of a grave old Venetian Gentleman in alabaster, who 
was flea d amongst the Turks with no lesse cruelty than 
we reade St. Barthelmew the Apostle was amongst 
the Ethnicks, in Albania a city of the great Armenia, 
or Manes the Heretique amongst the Persians. Truly 
I could not reade it with dry eyes, neither do I thinke 
any Christian to be so hard hearted, except he hath ferum 
& aes triplex circa cor (to use those words of the Lyrick 
Poet) that can reade the same without either effusion of 



teares, or at the least some kinde of relenting, if he doth 
understand the Latin tongue. This following epitaph 
(I say) did I reade there. 

D. O. P. 

M. Antonii Bragedini, dum pro fide, & patria bello Cyp- 
rio Salaminse contra Turcas constanter fortiterque curam 
Principem sustineret, longa obsidione victi a perfida hostis 
[p. 224.] manu, ipso vivo ac intrepide sufferente detracta pellis 
anno Sal M. D. Lxxi.xv. Kal. Sept. Antonii fratris opera 
& impensa Byzantio hue advecta, atque hie a Marco, 
Hermolao, Antonioque filiis pientissimis ad summam Dei, 
patrine, paternique nominis gloriam sempiternam posita. 
Anno Salut. M.D.Lxxxxvi. vixit annos xxxxvi. 
A Colossus of In a greene yard adjoyning hard to this Church, there 
alabaster. i s erected a goodly Colossus all of alabaster, supported 
with sixe faire pillars of the same, on the toppe whereof 
the statue of Barthelmew Coleon (who had his name From 
having three stones, for the Italian word Coglione doth 
signifie a testicle) is advanced in his complet armour on 
horse-backe. His horse and himselfe made correspondent 
to the full proportion of a living man and horse, and 
both made of brasse, and very beautifully gilt al over. 
At the east end of the Colossus this Elogium is written. 
Bartholomeo Coleono Bergomensi ob militare imperium 
optime gestum S. C. At the west end this is written. 
Joanne Mauro & Marino Venerio Curatoribus anno Salu. 
M. CCCC.Lxxxxv. 

No use for I saw but one horse in all Venice during the space 

hones m o f s j xe wee k es that I made my aboade there, and that 
was a little bay nagge feeding in this Church-yard of St. 
John and Paul, whereat I did not a little wonder, because 
I could not devise what they should doe with a horse 
in such a City where they have no use for him. For 
you must consider that neither the Venetian Gentlemen 
nor any others can ride horses in the streets of Venice 
as in other Cities and Townes, because their streets being 
both very narrow and slippery, in regard they are all paved 

3 6 4 


with smooth bricke, and joyning to the water, the horse 

would quickly fall into the river, and so drowne both 

himselfe and his rider. Therefore the Venetians do use 

Gondolaes in their streets in steede of horses, I meane 

their liquid streets, that is, their pleasant channels. So 

that I now finde by mine owne experience that the [? 22 5-] 

speeches of a certaine English Gentleman (with whom A palpable 

I once discoursed before my travels) a man that much fi ctlon - 

vaunted of his observations in Italy, are utterly false. 

For when I asked him what principal! things he observed 

in Venice, he answered me that he noted but little of 

the city. Because he rode through it in post. A fiction 

as grosse and palpable as ever was coyned. 

Thus much concerning the Church dedicated to S. John 

and Paul. 

NOt farre from this Church I observed a Nunnery j nunnery 
Church called the Church of Madonna Miracolosa, church. 
which although it were but little, yet for the outward 
workemanship thereof it was the fairest that I saw in all 
my travels. For all the outward walles round about were 
built of pure milke-white alabaster. Within the same I 
saw upon one of the Altars two exceeding great candels of 
Virgin waxe, even as bigge as the greatest part of my 

In the yeare of our Lord M.D.Lxxvi. there hapned A grievous 
a most grievous pestilence in Venice which destroyed at J> estl [ ence in 
least a hundred thousand persons, but at last God looked " 
downe from heaven with the eyes of mercy, and sodainly 
stayed the infection. Whereupon the Senate to the end 
they might be thankfull unto God for their sodaine 
deliverance from so great a contagion, vowed to build a 
faire Church, and to dedicate it to Christ the Redeemer, 
to the end they might yearly honour him upon the same 
day wherein the plague ceased, with certayne speciall and 
extraordinary solemnities. For they affirme that there 
was such a miraculous ceasing of the pestilence, that after 
the day wherein there appeared that maine cessation, 



there died few or none of any contagious sicknesse. This 
vow they accordingly performed afterward, and built a 
very goodly faire Church on the farther side of the water 
[p. 226.] southward from the city, in that place which is called 
the old Jewecka. For it was heretofore a place of the 
Jewes habitation. At the first they vowed to bestow but 
twelve thousand crownes in the building of it. But I 
heard that it cost them afterward fourescore thousand 
crownes, which doe amount to foure and twenty thousand 
pound sterling. For indeed it is a passing sumptuous 
The festival of and gorgeous building. It hapned that this festivall day 
the tenth of was solemnized at the time of my being in Venice, even 
upon the tenth day of July being Sunday. Upon which 
day the Duke in his rich Ducal ornaments, accompanied 
with his red damaske-gowned Senators and others of the 
greatest personages of the City, as Ambassadors, Venetian 
Knights, &c. came to the Church to heare Masse and 
praise God. At that time there was made a faire broade 
bridge over the water consisting of boates very artificially 
joyned together, over the which were fastened boords for 
the people to walke on to and fro to the Redeemers 
Church ; being contrived in that manner as the bridge 
of the Tyrant Maxentius was over the river Tyber, which 
he commanded to be made upon boates (as this of Venice 
was) neare to the bridge called Pons Milvius, upon the 
which being driven backe by the force of the Emperour 
Constantines Souldiers, he was presently drowned in the 
A bridge of Tyber. This Venetian bridge which was prepared against 
boats near a t m s religious solemnity, reached from one shore to the 
other, and was almost a mile long. There was I also, 
where I observed an exceeding multitude of people 
flocking together to that Church, and passing forth and 
backe over the bridge. At the Church dore there was 
a prety green wreath hanged up at the top, reaching from 
one side to the other, which was made of greene leaves 
and fine fruits, as Melons, Oranges, Citrons, &c. Which 
is a custome that I perceive to be used amongst them 
upon every speciall holy day in the summer time, when 



such things are to be had. Within the Church right over 
the first great gate I read this written in great Capital! [p- 227.] 
letters : Christo Redemptori Civitate a gravi pestilentia 
liberata Senatus ex voto, Prid. Non. Sept. An. 
M.D.Lxxvi. This Church belongeth now to a Convent 
of Capucin Friers, who inhabited a little beggarly Cloyster 
there before this faire Church was built, which hath been 
since inlarged and amplified with a great addition of 
roomes. There are at this time of the Fraternity of these 
Capucins a hundred and fifty, whereof twenty are Noble 
men and Noblemens sonnes. That day I saw a marvailous ^ marve ii ous 
solemne Procession. For every Order and Fraternity of solemn 
religious men in the whole city met together, and carried procession. 
their Crosses and candlesticks of silver in procession to 
the Redeemers Church, and so backe againe to their 
severall Convents. Besides there was much good fellow 
ship in many places of Venice upon that day. For there 
were many places, whereof each yeelded allowance of Q OO J 
variety of wine and cakes and some other prety junkats fellowship. 
to a hundred good fellowes to be merry that day, but 
to no more : this I know by experience. For a certaine 
Stationer of the city, with whom I had some acquaintance, 
one Joannes Guerilius met me by chance at the Redeemers 
Church, and after he had shewed me the particular places 
of the Capucins Monastery, brought me to a place where 
we had very good wine, cakes, and other delicates gratis, 
where a Priest served us all. 

I visited the Church of the Grecians called S. Georges, The Church of 
which is in the Parish of S. Martin, a very faire little the Grecians. 
Church. It was my hap to be there at their Greekish 
Liturgy in the morning : the floore of their Church is 
paved with faire diamond pavier, made of white and red 
marble like the pavement of S. Georges Church that I 
will hereafter describe belonging to the Benedictine 
Monks : and they have a faire vaulted roofe over the 
middle of the Church, decked with the picture of God 
in it, made in Mosaical worke, by whom there is written 

in golden letters, and a great multitude of [p. 228.] 



Images not Angels about him. From the top of this vault there 
(ZKek* 11 * descend eth an exceeding faire Candlesticke to the middle 
churches ^ tne Church. Images they have none, neyther will they 
admit any. For since the time of Leo the thirde Greeke 
Emperour of that name, surnamed e<Voi/o/xa^o9, most of 
the Greekes have abolished images out of their Churches, 
though some of their Bishops have eftsoones endevoured 
to restore them againe, as it hapned especially at the 
seventh generall Councell, holden at the citie of Nicea in 
Bithynia, under the Empresse Irene : but at this day the 
Greeks will by no meanes endure any images in their 
Churches ; notwithstanding in stead of them they have 
many pictures made after their Greekish manner ; as of 
Christ and the Virgin Mary, of S. George of Cappadocia, 
of S. Nicolas, whom they worship as their Patron and 
numen tutelare, celebrating this day every yeare a little 
before Christmasse with many solemnities ; of Moyses, 
&c. A little without their Adytum or secret chappell, 
which is at the higher end of the Church, where the 
Priest doth celebrate his Liturgy, I saw foure very 
Candles eight sumptuous great candels of Virgin waxe, they were in my 
foot high. estimation about eight foot high, and so thicke that both 
my handes could nothing neare compasse them ; the 
outside of them which looketh downe to the Church, is 
almost from the toppe to the lower end all gilt, and 
garnished with sundry colours, wherein are wrought faire 
borders and workes : each of these cost twenty five 
duckats, which amount to five pound sixteene shillings 
eight pence sterling. For the Venetian duckat is about 
foure shillings eight pence. They use beades as the 
Papists doe, and crosse themselves, but much more then 
the Papists. For as soone as they come into the Church, 
standing about the middle thereof right opposite to the 
Chappel where the Priest doth his ceremonies, they crosse 
themselves six or seven times together, and use a very 
[p. 229.] strange forme in their crossings. For after they have 
crossed their forehead and breast, they caste down one 
of their hands to their knees, and then begin againe. 



Though their language be very corrupt, and degenerateth 
very much from the pure elegancy that flourished in St. 
Chrysostomes and Gregory Nazianzens time, yet they say 
their Liturgy is very good Greeke. When they sing in 
the Church to answere the Priest, they have one kind 
of gesture, which seemeth to me both very unseemly Unseemly 
and ridiculous. For they wagge their hands up and gesture. 
downe very often. The Priest saith not divine service 
in so open and publique a place to be seene as the 
Papisticall Priests doe. For he saith service in a little 
private Chappell, before whom most commonly there is 
a Taffata curtaine drawne at the dore, that the people 
may not see him, yet sometimes he removes it againe. 
When the Grecians in the body of the Church answere 
the Priest, a little Greekish boy in a short blacke gowne 
goeth oftentimes from one side of the Church, where 
they sit, to the other, holding a bible in his hand, unto 
whom the Grecians sing by turnes, sometimes one at a 
time, sometimes three or foure : the Priests Clarke com- 
meth oftentimes out of the Chappell, and perfumeth the 
people with his censor-boxe : Also the boyes come forth 
often with their long candles at service time, and goe 
about halfe the Church, and then returne againe into the 
Chappell. Likewise these boyes use much nodding of 
their heads as the Papists doe : for that I observed amongst 
the Capucins in their Monastery adjoyning to the 
Redeemers Church upon that solemne festivall day that 
I have before mentioned. Most of these Grecians are 
very blacke, and all of them both men and children doe Long-haired 
weare long haire, much longer then any other mans Grecians. 
besides that I could perceive in all Venice, a fashion 
unseemly and very ruffian-like. It was my chance after 
the Greekish Liturgy was done, to enter into some 
Greeke discourse in the Church with the Greeke 
Bishop Gabriel, who is Archbishop of Philadelphia, where [p. 230.] 
I scoured up some of my olde Greeke, which by reason 
of my long desuetude was become almost rusty, and 
according to my slender skill had some parley with him 
c. c. 369 2 A 



in his owne language. He spake the purest and 
elegantest naturall Greeke that ever I heard, insomuch 
that his phrase came something neere to that of Isocrates, 
and his pronunciation was so plausible, that any man 
which was skillfull in the Greeke tongue, might easily 
understand him. Hee told me that they differ from the 
Greek and Romish Church in some points of doctrine, especially 
Roman about Purgatory. For that they utterly reject : neyther 
doe they attribute to the Pope the title of Oecumenical 
or universall Bishop that the Romanists doe. Also in his 
parley betwixt him and me, he made worthy mention of 
two English men, which did even tickle my heart with 
joy. For it was a great comfort unto me to heare my 
country men well spoken of by a Greekish Bishop. Hee 
much praised Sir Henry Wotton our Ambassador in 
Venice for his rare learning, and that not without great 
desert, as all those doe know that have tried his excellent 
partes : and he commended one Mr. Samuel Slade unto 
me, a Dorset-shire man borne, and one of the fellowes 
of Merton colledge in Oxford, but now a famous traveller 
abroad in the world. For I met him in Venice. The 
Grecian commended him for his skill in the Greeke tongue, 
and told mee that he had communicated unto him some 
manuscript fragments of S. Chrysostomes Greeke workes, 
the fruites whereof I hope we shall one day see. 

I was at a place where the whole fraternity of the 
Jews dwelleth together, which is called the Ghetto, being 
an Hand : for it is inclosed round about with water. It 
is thought there are of them in all betwixt five and sixe 
thousand. They are distinguished and discerned from 
the Christians by their habites on their heads ; for some 
[p. 231.] of them doe weare hats and those redde, onely those 
Jewes that are borne in the Westerne parts of the world, 
as in Italy, &c. but the easterne Jewes being otherwise 
called the f Levantine Jewes, which are borne in Hieru- 

f They are so called from the Latin word levare, which sometimes 
signifieth as much as elevare, that is to elevate or lift up. Because the 
sunne elevateth and raiseth it selfe in heigth every morning in the East: 
herehence also commeth the Levant sea, for the Easterne Sea. 


The Jews 


salem, Alexandria, Constantinople, &c. weare Turbents 
upon their heads as the Turkes do : but the difference 
is this : the Turkes weare white, the Jewes yellow. By 
that word Turbent I understand a rowle of fine linnen 
wrapped together upon their heads, which serveth them 
in stead of hats, whereof many have bin often worne by 
the Turkes in London. They have divers Synagogues Divine 
in their Ghetto, at the least seven, where all of them, service in a 
both men, women and children doe meete together upon ^agogue. 
their Sabboth, which is Saturday, to the end to doe their 
devotion, and serve God in their kinde, each company 
having a several Synagogue. In the midst of the Syna 
gogue they have a round seat made of Wainscot, having 
eight open spaces therein, at two whereof which are at 
the sides, they enter into the seate as by dores. The 
Levite that readeth the law to them, hath before him at 
the time of divine service an exceeding long piece of 
parchment, rowled up upon two woodden handles : in 
which is written the whole summe and contents of Moyses 
law in Hebrew : that doth he (being discerned from the 
lay people onely by wearing of a redde cap, whereas the 
others doe weare redde hats) pronounce before the con 
gregation not by a sober, distinct, and orderly reading, 
but by an exceeding loud yaling, undecent roaring, and Roaring not 
as it were a beastly bellowing of it forth. And that reading. 
after such a confused and hudling manner, that I thinke 
the hearers can very hardly understand him : sometimes 
he cries out alone, and sometimes againe some others 
serving as it were his Clerkes hard without his seate, and 
within, do roare with him, but so that his voyce (which 
he straineth so high as if he sung for a wager) drowneth 
all the rest. Amongst others that are within the roome 
with him, one is he that commeth purposely thither from [p. 232.] 
his seat, to the end to reade the law, and pronounce some 
part of it with him, who when he is gone, another riseth 
from his seat, and commeth thither to supply his roome. 
This order they keepe from the beginning of service to 
the end. One custome I observed amongst them very 


An irreverent irreverent and prophane, that none of them, eyther when 
they enter the Synagogue, or when they sit downe in 
their places, or when they goe forth againe, doe any 
reverence or obeysance, answerable to such a place of the 
worship of God, eyther by uncovering their heads, kneel 
ing, or any other externall gesture, but boldly dash into 
the roome with their Hebrew bookes in their handes, 
and presently sit in their places, without any more adoe ; 
every one of them whatsoever he be, man or childe, 
weareth a kinde of light yellowish vaile, made of Linsie 
Woolsie (as I take it) over his shoulders, something worse 
then our courser Holland, which reacheth a little beneath 
the middle of their backes. They have a great company 
of candlestickes in each Synagogue made partly of glasse, 
and partly of brasse and pewter, which hang square about 
their Synagogue. For in that forme is their Synagogue 
built : of their candlestickes I told above sixty in the same 

I observed some fewe of those Jewes especially some 
of the Levantines to bee such goodly and proper men, 
that then I said to my selfe our English proverbe : To 
looke like a Jewe (whereby is meant sometimes a weather 
beaten warp-faced fellow, sometimes a phrenticke and 
lunaticke person, sometimes one discontented) is not true. 
For indeed I noted some of them to be most elegant and 
sweet featured persons, which gave me occasion the more 
to lament their religion. For if they were Christians, 
then could I better apply unto them that excellent verse 
of the Poet, then I can now. 

Gratior est pulchro veniens e corpore virtus. 

In the roome wherin they celebrate their divine service, 
no women sit, but have a loft or gallery proper to them 
selves only, where I saw many Jewish women, whereof 
some were as beautiful as ever I saw, and so gorgeous 
in their apparel, jewels, chaines of gold, and rings adorned 
with precious stones, that some of our English Countesses 
do scarce exceede them, having marvailous long traines 


An English 



[P- 233-] 



like Princesses that are borne up by waiting women 
serving for the same purpose. An argument to prove 
that many of the Jewes are very rich. One thing they 
observe in their service which is utterly condemned by 
our Saviour Christ, fBattologia, that is a very tedious Tedious 
babling, and an often repetition of one thing, which babbling. 
cloied mine eares so much that I could not endure them 
any longer, having heard them at least an houre ; for 
their service is almost three houres long. They are very 
religious in two things only, and no more, in that they 
worship no images, and that they keep their sabboth so 
strictly, that upon that day they wil neither buy nor sell, 
nor do any secular, prophane, or irreligious exercise, (I 
would to God our Christians would imitate the Jewes 
herein) no not so much as dresse their victuals, which is 
alwaies done the day before, but dedicate and consecrate 
themselves wholy to the strict worship of God. Their 
circumcision they observe as duely as they did any time Circumcision. 
betwixt Abraham (in whose time it was first instituted) 
and the incarnation of Christ. For they use to circumcise 
every male childe when he is eight dayes old, with a stony 
knife. But I had not the opportunitie to see it. Likewise 
they keepe many of those ancient feastes that were 
instituted by Moyses. Amongst the rest the feast of 
tabernacles is very ceremoniously observed by them. 
From swines flesh they abstaine as their ancient fore 
fathers were wont to doe, in which the Turkes do imitate 
them at this day. Truely it is a most lamentable case 
for a Christian to consider the damnable estate of these 
miserable Jewes, in that they reject the true Messias and [p. 234.] 
Saviour of their soules, hoping to be saved rather by the 
observation of those Mosaicall ceremonies, (the date A lamentable 
whereof was fully expired at Christ s incarnation) then case - 
by the merits of the Saviour of the world, without whom 
all mankind shall perish. And as pitifull it is to see that 
fewe of them living in Italy are converted to the Christian 
religion. For this I understand is the maine impediment 

f Mat. 6. ver. 7. 


to their conversion : All their goodes are confiscated as 
soone as they embrace Christianity : and this I heard is 
the reason, because whereas many of them doe raise their 

Fortunes made fortunes by usury, in so much that they doe not only 

by usury. sheare, but also flea many a poore Christians estate by 
their griping extortion ; it is therefore decreed by the 
Pope, and other free Princes in whose territories they live, 
that they shall make a restitution of all their ill gotten 
goods, and so disclogge their soules and consciences, when 
they are admitted by holy baptisme into the bosome of 
Christs Church. Seing then when their goods are taken 
from them at their conversion, they are left even naked, 
and destitute of their meanes of maintenance, there are 
fewer Jewes converted to Christianity in Italy, than in 
any country of Christendome. Whereas in Germany, 
Poland, and other places the Jewes that are converted 
(which doth often happen, as Emanuel Tremellius was 
converted in Germany) do enjoy their estates as they did 

But now I will make relation of that which I promised 
in my treatise of Padua, I meane my discourse with the 

The Jewish Jewes about their religion. For when as walking in the 
e ISH Court of the Ghetto, I casually met with a certaine learned 

Jewish Rabbin that spake good Latin, I insinuated my 
selfe after some fewe termes of complement into conference 
with him, and asked him his opinion of Christ, and why he 
did not receive him for his Messias ; he made me the 

[p. 235.] same answere that the Turke did at Lyons, of whom I 
have before spoken, that Christ forsooth was a great 
Prophet, and in that respect as highly to be esteemed as 
any Prophet amongst the Jewes that ever lived before 
him ; but derogated altogether from his divinitie, and 
would not acknowledge him for the Messias and Saviour 
of the world, because he came so contemptibly, and not 
with that pompe and majesty that beseemed the redeemer 
of mankind. I replyed that we Christians doe, and will 
even to the effiusion of our vitall bloud confesse him to 
be the true and onely Messias of the world, seeing he 



confirmed his Doctrine while hee was here on earth, with The 

such an innumerable multitude of divine miracles, which nsf 

did most infallibly testifie his divinitie ; and that they 

themselves, who are Christs irreconciliable enemies, could 

not produce any authority either out of Moyses, the 

Prophets, or any other authenticke author to strengthen 

their opinion concerning the temporall kingdome of the 

Messias, seeing it was foretolde to be spirituall : and told 

him, that Christ did as a spirituall King reigne over his 

subjects in conquering their spiritual enemies the flesh, 

the world, and the divell. Withall I added that the pre 

dictions and sacred oracles both of Moyses, and all the 

holy Prophets of God, aymed altogether at Christ as their 

onely marke, in regarde hee was the full consummation 

of the law and the Prophets, and I urged a place of f Esay 

unto him concerning the name Emanuel, and a virgins 

conceiving and bearing of a sonne ; and at last descended 

to the perswasion of him to abandon and renounce his 

Jewish religion and to undertake the Christian faith, 

without the which he should be eternally damned. He 

againe replyed that we Christians doe misinterpret the Christians 

Prophets, and very perversly wrest them to our owne misinterpret 

sense, and for his owne part he had confidently resolved the P r P hets - 

to live and die in his Jewish faith, hoping to be saved 

by the observations of Moyses Law. In the end he 

seemed to be somewhat exasperated against me, because [p. 236.] 

I sharpely taxed their superstitious ceremonies. For 

many of them are such refractary people that they cannot 

endure to heare any reconciliation to the Church of Christ, 

in regard they esteeme him but for a carpenters sonne, 

and a silly poore wretch that once rode upon an Asse, 

and most unworthy to be the Messias whom they expect The Messiah 

to come with most pompous magnificence and imperiall expected by 

royalty, like a peerelesse Monarch, garded with many the Jews - 

legions of the gallantest Worthies, and most eminent 

personages of the whole world, to conquer not onely their 

old country Judaea and all those opulent and flourishing 

f Cap. 17. ver. 14. 


Kingdomes, which heretofore belonged to the foure 
auncient Monarchies (such is their insupportable pride) 
but also all the nations generally under the cope of heaven, 
and make the King of Guiane, and al other Princes what 
soever dwelling in the remotest parts of the habitable 
world his tributary vassals. Thus hath God justly 
infatuated their understandings, and given them the spirit 
of slumber (as Saint Paule speaketh out of the Prophet 
Esay) eyes that they should not see, and eares that they 
should not heare unto this day. But to shut up this 
narration of my conflict with the Jewish Rabbin, after 
there had passed many vehement speeches to and fro 
betwixt us, it happened that some forty or fifty Jewes 
Jewish more flocked about me, and some of them beganne very 
insolence. i nso l en tly to swagger with me, because I durst reprehend 
their religion : Whereupon fearing least they would have 
offered me some violence, I withdrew my selfe by little 
and little towards the bridge at the entrance into the 
Ghetto, with an intent to flie from them, but by good 
fortune our noble Ambassador Sir Henry Wotton passing 
under the bridge in his Gondola at that very time, espyed 
me somewhat earnestly bickering with them, and so incon 
tinently sent unto me out of his boate one of his principall 
Gentlemen Master Belford his secretary, who conveighed 
[p. 237.] mee safely from these unchristian miscreants, which perhaps 
would have given mee just occasion to forsweare any 
more comming to the Ghetto. 

Thus much for the Jewish Ghetto, their service, and my 
discourse with one of their Rabbines. 



King I have now mentioned that Honour- Sir Henry 
able Gentleman Sir Henry Wotton, I mmn - 
will here insert an elegant Epistle written 
unto him by my right worthy friend that 
fluent-tongued Gentleman and plausible 
Linguist Mr. Richard Martin of the 
Middle Temple, because it was the prin- 

cipall occasion of purchasing me the friendship of that 
noble Knight, which I esteeme for one of the best fortunes 
that hapned unto me in my travels. This I say was his 
Epistle which he superscribed with this Title. 

To the Right Honorable Sir Henry Wotton, 
Knight, Ambassador for the King of Great 
Britaine in Venice, 

The Epistle itselfe is this. 


Hough I know well that they who Richard Mar- 
undertake to commend others, must tin 5 letter to 
have something in themselves worthy yp ottm 
commendation, (for that the derivative 
power by the rules of our lawes, cannot 
be greater then the primitive) yet since 
my bouldnesse growes upon the assur 
ance of your Lordships favour, and not out of any [p. 238.] 
opinion of mine owne worth, the presumption is the 
lesse faulty, and the more pardonable ; to which con 
sideration if I should adde the desert of the person 
whom this letter presents to your Lordship, it would 
make me feare the lesse, calling to my remembrance 
how rich your Lordship did always account your 
selfe in the wealth of vertuous acquaintances, and 
well-accomplished friends. Amongst whom this bearer 
M. Thomas Coryate of Odcombe in Somersetshire, 
will easily finde a place, if for my sake, and by my means 
your Lordship will first deigne to take notice of him. 



Richard^ To give your Lordship an inventory of his particular 

Martini qualities, were rather to paint my friend then to praise 
letter to Sir J 1 . , , , r J ,., n ul 

Henry Wotton. mm nor wou ld that forme seeme liberall or agreeable 
with either of our open minds ; yet seeing to yeeld no 
reason or account of my report of him, would make us 
both suspected, and seeme rather a begging of your 
favour for a worthlesse man, then a just pretension 
thereto : by that right and title which all vertuous men 
have in men publiquely qualified as your Lordship, I will 
only say this, that looke what pleasure or contentment 
may be drawen from good society, liberall studies, or 
variable discourse, are all to be found in M. Thomas 
Coryate. In the first, in via pro vehiculo est, more 
pleasant then a Dutch waggon ; in the second, a 
Universall pretender ; in the third, amongst his friends 
infinite, and the last that will be wearied. The end of 
his voyage (which must be first made knowen to an 

[p. 239.] Ambassador) is to better himselfe by the increase of 
knowledge for the good of his Country, wherein he is 
resolved to begge wisdome among the rich, rather then 
wealth of riches amongst the learned ; and what the 
affection of the Gentleman is to learning, I can (if neede 
be) be deposed ; but of his ability and judgement therein, 
I had rather your Lordships sharpe judgement should finde 
him guilty, then mine accuse him. For I hate to betray 
my friends. Two things I have intreated him to carry 
with him, discretion and money, which commodities are 
not easily taken up by exchange upon the Rialto ; he 
hath promised me to goe well furnished with both, of 
other things he hopes to be furnished by your Lordships 
means. One thing by way of preoccupation I would 
intreat of your Lordship, that if any of your Intelligencers 
should give advertisement of any traffiquing or mer 
chandising used by this Gentleman at Naples, your 
Lordship would rather interpret it as done collaterally 
or incidentally by way of entertainement, then finally for 
any gaine ; being determined (besides his experience) to 
returne for other things a very beggar. But hereof 



himselfe will yeeld your Lordship a fuller reason : To 

binde up all, take into your Honorable consideration, 
Miit i j i letter to Str 

that looke what curtesie you doe to him, your Lordship UenryWotton. 

shall doe to a Gentleman in whose veines runs the bloud 
of the noble Essexian family, to whose chiefe he is cosen 
german, but somewhat removed, to what * distance I 
cannot shew your Lordship. Thus not longer to interrupt 
your Lordships seriousnesse, craving pardon for my selfe, 
and favour for him, I humbly kisse your honorable hand. [p. 240.] 

Your humble servant, 

Middle Temple RlCHARD MARTIN, 

the first of May i6o8./ 

HEre againe I wil once more speake of our most &> Henry 

worthy Ambassador Sr Henry Wotton, honoris Cotton a most 

A i i i 1 /IT wortay am- 

causa, because his house was m the same street (when 1 b assa j or 

was in Venice) where the Jewish Ghetto is, even in the 
streete called St. Hieronimo, and but a little from it. 
Certainly he hath greatly graced and honoured his 
country by that most honourable port that he hath 
maintayned in this noble City, by his generose carriage 
and most elegant and gracious behaviour amongst the 
greatest Senators and Clarissimoes, which like the true 
adamant, had that attractive vertue to winne him their 
love and grace in the highest measure. And the rather 
I am induced to make mention of him, because I received 
many great favours at his hands in Venice, for the which 
(I must confesse) I am most deservedly ingaged unto 
him in all due observance and obsequious respects while 
I live. Also those rare vertues of the minde wherewith 
God hath abundantly inriched him, his singular learning 
and exquisite knowledge in the Greeke and Latin, and 
the famousest languages of Christendome, which are 
excellently beautified with a plausible volubility of speech, 
have purchased him the inward friendship of all the 

* But you might have told his Lordship (gentle M. Martin) if 
you had beene so disposed, to the distance of the fourth degree, and 
no further. For I can assure you Sir that is most true. 



Christian Ambassadors resident in the City ; and finally 
his zealous conversation, (which is the principall thing of 
all) piety, and integrity of life, and his true worship of 
God in the middest of Popery, superstition, and idolatry 
(for he hath service and sermons in his house after the 
[p. 241.] Protestant manner, which I thinke was never before 
permitted in Venice, that solid Divine and worthy 
Schollar Mr. William Bedel being his Preacher at the 
time of my being in Venice) will be very forcible motives 
(I doubt not) to winne many soules to Jesus Christ, and 
to draw divers of the famous Papists of the City to the 
true reformed religion, and profession of the Gospell. 
Friar Paul. J n this street also doth famous Frier Paul dwell which 
is of the order of Servi. I mention him because in the 
time of the difference betwixt the Signiory of Venice and 
the Pope, he did in some sort oppose himselfe against the 
Pope, especially concerning his supremacy in civill matters, 
and as wel with his tongue as his pen inveighed not a 
little against him. So that for his bouldnesse with the 
Popes Holynesse he was like to be slaine by some of the 
Papists in Venice, whereof one did very dangerously 
wound him. It is thought that he doth dissent in many 
points from the Papisticall doctrine, and inclineth to the 
Protestants religion, by reason that some learned Protes 
tants have by their conversation with him in his Convent 
something diverted him from Popery. Wherefore notice 
being taken by many great men of the City that he 
beginneth to swarve from the Romish religion, he was 
lately restrained (as I heard in Venice) from all conference 
5. Georges *w\\\\ Protestants. I was at the Monastery of the Bene- 
01t ft ter j- dictine Monkes called Saint Georges, which is situate in 
tines. a ver y delectable Island about halfe a mile Southward from 

Saint Marks place. It is a passing sumptuous place, and 
the fairest and richest Monastery without comparison in 
all Venice, having at the least threescore thousand crownes 
for a yearlie revenue, which amounte to eighteene thousand 
pound sterling. Now they are much occupied in building 
as the Benedictines of Padua, especially about the finishing 



of their Church which is a marvailous faire worke : and 
in which are many auncient monuments. Of some [p. 242.] 
whereof I will make relation, and beginne with the 
principallest, which is that of Saint Stephen the first 
Christian Martyr. For here his bones lye (as they say) s - Stephen s 
inclosed under a goodly Altar of red marble, unto which to 
there is a faire ascent by five porphyrie greeses, and very 
rich marble pillars on both sides of excellent colours, 
white, blacke, blewish, &c. On the left hand of the Altar 
this is written in a faire piece of stone. Divus Stephanus 
Protomartyr, Anno post Christum natum 33. a Judaeis 
saxis petitus Hierosolymis Martyrio coronatur, atque inter 
sanctos coelites refertur Syone conditus. Ejus ossa multis 
post annis Honorii Caesaris tempore Luciani Presbyteri 
divino monitu patefacta, & ex Syone Constantinopolin a 
pia muliere Juliana, Constantino Heraclii Imperante in 
Constantianam primum Basilicam translata, Venetias inde 
navi per Petrum Venetum Monachum transvecta, Pascale 
2. Pont. Opt. Max. Alexio Comneno Orientis & Henrico 
Occidentis Imperatore : edito insigni miraculo dum vec- 
tores foedissima jactati tempestate Maleam deflecterent. 
Tribunus Nemo hujus Cocnobii Abbas maxime pius 
templo veteri in aram maximam recondidit. Joanne 
Gradonigo Patriarcha Gradense, & Ordelapho Faletro 
Venetiarum Principe. VIII. Cal. Julii, M. C. X. Againe 
this is written on the right hand of the same Altar. 

Ossa Divi Stephani Protomartyris, quum adhuc in dicta 
asde conderentur, Gallo Equiti oranti ibidem ab Angelo 
ccelesti oraculo manifestata, petentibus Wilhelmo atque 
Alberto Austriae Ducibus Senatusconsulto reserata sunt 
Cal. Sept. M. C C C. L X X I X. Sed novo hoc 
templo in Divi Georgii & ipsius Protomartyris honorem 
a Monachis in augustiorem formam restitute, veteri aede 
solo aequata, quo arae maximae fundamenta jacerentur, 
universae fere civitatis in hanc insulam concursu Deiparae 
Assumptionis festo die Joanne Trivisano Patriarcha Vene 
tiarum, praeeuntibus Abbate & Monachis, hymnosque & 
laudes canentibus, Nicolai de Ponte Venetiarum Principis 



[p- M3-] & Senatus praesentia vetere Protomartyris monumento 
demolito venerabundi monachi eadem in hoc ipsum sub 
vesperam suppliciter intulere, atque intra arcam consti- 
tuere. Gregorii 13. Pontificatus Anno IX. Rodulpho 2. 
Romanorum Imperatore. 

Over his Altar is painted the History of his stoning 
by the Jewes, passing well in a faire table. 

Opposite to Saint Stephens Altar at the South side 
of the Church (for this before mentioned standeth in the 
North side) is erected an Altar wherein are intombed the 

S.DamiantAe bones of St. Damianus the Confessor, adorned with fbure 
exceeding beautifull pillars of whitish marble, wherein 
are many Azure vaines. Over each of these Altars 
standeth a silver Crucifixe with two silver Candlestickes. 
In another part of the South side I saw the monument 
of Dominicus Bollanus a Senator of Venice, and afterward 
Bishop of Brixia, with his Statue to the middle erected 
over it, and this Epitaph is written in golden letters, upon 
a table of Touchstone. Dominico Bollano Senatori gravis- 
simo Brixianam Prseturam difficillimis temporibus gerenti, 
ab ea ad ejusdem civitatis Episcopatum divinitus vocato, 
viginti & amplius annis in ejus administratione summa 
cum vigilantia & sanctitate consumptis, illius ossibus 
Brixiae conditis, hoc in patria monumentum quod posteri 
sequantur, Antonius & Vincentius fratris filii pie posuere, 
Anno Dom. M. D. LXXIX. Prid. Id. Augusti, annos 
natus LXV menses VI. dies duos. 

Againe, in the North side of the Church right opposite 
to this monument, there is another monument of Vin 
centius Maurocenus a Venetian Knight, adorned with a 
faire statue of free stone, and under it this Epitaph is 
written. Vincentio Mauroceno Equiti Si Marci Procura- 
toris gradum factis consiliisque praeclaris adepto, gravis- 
simis reipub. temporibus, Provisoris Generalis munere 
in tuenda ora maritima fortissime uso, Oratoris dignitate 
apud Gregorium 13. & amplissimis aliis honoribus magni- 
ficentissime functo, pietate longe prsestantissimo Andream 
F. L. D. & mirificse indolis adolescentem summo cum 


Monument to 



[p. 244.] 


omnium dolore peregre redeundo Byzantio mortuum 
eodem hoc tumulo condendum curavit pii in parentem 
filii M. P. vixit annos 77. Cal. Martii decessit. Anno 

The pavement of the body of the Church is made of The body of 
diamond pavier of red and white marble. The body it the Churcfl - 
selfe is fifty five paces long, and fifty one broad. The 
roofe which is over the middle, is vaulted and hollow 
like a nut shell. There are two rowes of stately pillars 
in the body, whereof each containeth sixe more ; but so 
massie these pillars are, that some of them doe consist 
of eight particulars, square and very artificially compacted 
together in one. At the West end of the Church are 
two very rich Fonts made of Porphyrie stone. In the 
Quire the whole history of St. Bennet is very curiously 
made in Wainscot by a certaine Flemming called Albertus 
de Brule, and two rowes of seates are with principall 
fine cunning made of Wainscot ; the pavement of checker 
worke, with prety litle pieces of marble of divers colours 
white, red, blacke, &c. 

There is an exceeding rich Altar a little without the 
Quire, made of marble stones of different colours, at the 
toppe whereof are erected foure brasen men, supporting 
an exceeding great brasen globe, and at the top thereof 
standeth the image of Christ, made in brasse also. 

Hard by this Altar are two very rich candlestickes, the Rich 
base whereof is touch-stone, and all the rest full of variety can ^ estlc ^ f 
of curious workes, made in brasse as farre as the socket ; 
the whole shanke betwixt the base and the socket being 
about eight foot high. These were the fairest candle 
sticks that ever I saw. Againe opposite to this Altar on 
both sides of the Church are set two marveilous faire 
tables of religious pictures : In another roome adjoyning 
to the Church, I saw another goodly Altar, over which 
was written, Altare privilegiatum pro mortuis in quo jacet 
corpus S Pauli Constantinopolitani Martyris. 

I was in a long gallery of this Monastery, which is a [p. 245.] 
very goodly, faire and spacious roome to walke in. Also 




A very not 
able garden. 

A Scottish 

The Fontigo. 

[p. 246.] 

I saw their Hall or Refectory, where there is a passing 
faire picture of an exceeding breadth and length, contain 
ing the history of Christs sitting at the table at the 
marriage at Cana in Galilie. They have a very faire 
cloyster that invironeth a prety green quadrangle, on the 
North side whereof there is a certaine convenient roome, 
where the Abbot and the Monkes do meete every after- 
noone. There doth the Abbot examine them wherein 
they have transgressed the rule of the Instituter of their 
order S. Bennet, and those whom he findeth offenders are 
disciplined according to his discretion. They have an 
exceeding delectable and large garden full of great variety 
of dainty fruites, which is the fairest not onely of all 
Venice, but also of all the Gardens I saw in Italy, sur 
passing even that notable garden of the Benedictins in 
Padua, which I have before mentioned. Insomuch that 
I have heard this conceit of this garden : That as Italy 
is the garden of the world, Lombardy the garden of 
Italy, Venice the garden of Lombardy, so this is /car e^o^v 
the garden of Venice. Every Friday they bestow great 
almes upon the poore, and once every yeare, which I take 
to be the eighth day of October, they bestow almes upon 
six thousand poore for the sake of all Christian soules. 
None of these Monks doe eat any flesh but onely in time 
of great necessity, but altogether fish. I was much 
beholding in this Monastery to a certaine Scottish Monke 
of the house, who accompanied me all the while I was 
there, and shewed me all things that I saw there. 

Thus much of S. Georges Monastery. 

THere is a very magnificent and sumptuous building 
neere to the banke of the Canal il grande, and 
opposite to the Rialto where the Dutch Merchants doe 
sojourne, called the Fontigo. They say there are two 
hundred severall lodgings in this house : it is square and 
built foure stories high, with faire galleries, supported 
with prety pillars in rowes above each other. At the 
comming in of the house, directly over the linterne of the 



dore, this inscription is made in stone ; Leonardi Laure- 
dani Inclyti Principis Principatus anno sexto. 

There are two very faire and spacious Piazzaes or The market 
maket places in the Citie, besides that of St. Marke before f lace f s - 
mentioned, whereof the fairest is St. Stephens, being 
indeed of a notable length, even two hundred eighty seven 
paces long, for I paced it ; but of a meane breadth, onely 
sixty one. Here every Sunday and Holy-day in the 
evening the young men of the citie doe exercise them- 
salves at a certaine play that they call Baloone, which is 
thus : Sixe or seven yong men or thereabout weare certaine ^ ame f 
round things upon their armes, made of timber, which 
are full of sharpe pointed knobs cut out of the same 
matter. In these exercises they put off their dublets, 
and having put this round instrument upon one of their 
armes, they tosse up and downe a great ball, as great as 
our football in England : sometimes they will tosse the 
ball with this instrument, as high as a common Church, 
and about one hundred paces at the least from them. 
About them sit the Clarissimoes of Venice, with many 
strangers that repair thither to see their game. I have 
seene at the least a thousand or fifteene hundred people 
there : If you will have a stoole it will cost you a gazet, 
which is almost a penny. The other Piazza is a faire one 
also, that of St. Paul, being all greene, whereas the other The P tazz * 
being paved with bricke is bare and plaine without any ** * au 
grasse. These two have their names from Churches : the 
first from St. Stephens Church adjoyning to it, where 
there is a convent of Friers, and many auncient monu 
ments of great antiquities are shewed there. And the 
other from St. Pauls Church hard by, which although it 
be but little yet it is passing glorious and beautifull, being 
gilt round about very richly within side. I was at the [p- 24?-] 
house of Grimannus Patriarch of Aquileia, which is a 
very stately building, and furnished with many notable 
antiquities of statues, &c. the best and the greatest part 
are in chambers and higher roomes, whither I could not 
have accesse by reason of a sinister accident. But in the 
c. c. 385 2 B 


Court I saw a goodly alabaster statue of a Gyant, and 

many stones wherein were Greeke and Latin inscriptions. 

A little from St. Pauls Church that I have before men- 

The Friery tioned, there is a goodly Church called the Friery, which 

Church. indeed in riches and sumptuousnesse is inferiour to many 
Churches in the citie, but in greatnesse it exceedeth them 
all. Besides there are many notable monuments to be 
scene there. Amongst the rest a very auncient statue of 
one of their generall Captaines on horse-backe, with an 
Epitaph in such obselete and difficult characters that I 
could not reade it. 

I was at one of their Play-houses where I saw a Comedie 
acted. The house is very beggarly and base in comparison 
of our stately Play-houses in England : neyther can their 
Actors compare with us for apparell, shewes and musicke. 
Here I observed certaine things that I never saw before. 

Women actors. For I saw women acte, a thing that I never saw before, 
though I have heard that it hath beene sometimes used 
in London, and they performed it with as good a grace, 
action, gesture, and whatsoever convenient for a Player, 
as ever I saw any masculine Actor. Also their noble & 
famous Cortezans came to this Comedy, but so disguised, 
that a man cannot perceive them. For they wore double 
maskes upon their faces, to the end they might not 
be scene : one reaching from the toppe of their forehead 
to their chinne and under their necke ; another with 
twiskes of downy or woolly stuffe covering their noses. 
And as for their neckes round about, they were so covered 
and wrapped with cobweb lawne and other things, that no 

[p. 248.] part of their skin could be discerned. Upon their heads 
they wore little blacke felt caps very like to those of the 
Clarissimoes that I will hereafter speake of. Also each of 
them wore a black short Taffata cloake. They were so 
graced that they sate on high alone by themselves in the 
best roome of all the Play-house. If any man should 
be so resolute to unmaske one of them but in merriment 
onely to see their faces, it is said that were he never so 
noble or worthy a personage, he should be cut in pieces 



before he should come forth of the roome, especially if 
he were a stranger. I saw some men also in the Play 
house, disguised in the same manner with double vizards, 
those were said to be the favourites of the same Cortezans : 
they sit not here in galleries as we doe in London. For 
there is but one or two little galleries in the house, wherein 
the Cortezans only sit. But all the men doe sit beneath 
in the yard or court, every man upon his severall stoole, 
for the which hee payeth a gazet. 

I passed in a Gondola to pleasant Murano, distant about Murano. 
a little mile from the citie, where they make their delicate 
Venice glasses, so famous over al Christendome for the Venice glass. 
incomparable finenes thereof, and in one of their working 
houses made a glasse my selfe. Most of their principal! 
matter whereof they make their glasses is a kinde of earth 
which is brought thither by Sea from Drepanum a goodly 
haven towne of SiciKe, where ^Eneas buried his aged 
father Anchises. This Murano is a very delectable and 
populous place, having many faire buildings both publique 
and private. And divers very pleasant gardens : the first 
that inhabited it were those of the towne Altinum border 
ing upon the Sea coast, who in the time of the Hunnes 
invasion of Italy, repaired hither with their wives and 
children, for the more securitie of their lives, as other 
borderers also did at the same time to those Islands, where 
Venice now standeth. Here did I eate the best Oysters 
that ever I did in all my life. They were indeede but [p- 249.] 
little, something lesse then our Waintlete Oysters about 
London, but as green as a leeke y and gratissimi saporis 
& succi. 

By the way betwixt Venice and Murano I observed a 
most notable thing, whereof I had often heard long before, 
a faire Monastery of Augustinian Monkes built by a A Monastery 

second t Flora or Lais. I meane a rich Cortezan of J? 

TT i x n TT> M- T i Courtezan. 

Venice, whose name was Margarita /hmiliana. 1 have 

not heard of so religious a worke done by so irreligious 
a founder in any place of Christendome : belike she 

+ These were rich cortezans the one in Rome, the other in Corinth. 



hoped to make expiation unto God by this holy 
deede for the lascivious dalliances of her youth, but tali 
spe freti sperando pereant. 

I saw about a mile east from Venice a most goodly 
building of an extraordinary greatnesse, called Lio, which 
serveth in stead of a Castle, to contain those Souldiers 
that are pressed for the warres in the city and other places 
thereabout, for some convenient time, till they are afterward 
disposed eyther for Sea or Land service, according to the 
pleasure of their Captaines, whom they shall serve. 

The feast of \ was at three very solemne feasts in Venice, I meane 
. aurence. nQt commessa ti ons or banquets, but holy and religious 
solemnities, whereof the first was in the Church of certaine 
Nunnes in St. Laurence parish, which are dedicated to 
St. Laurence. This was celebrated the one and thirtieth 
of July being Sunday, where I heard much singular 

The feast of rnusicke. The second was on the day of our Ladies 

*fo n a " um * ~ assumption, which was the fifth of August being Fryday, 
that day in the morning I saw the Duke in some of his 
richest ornaments, accompanyed with twenty sixe couple 
of Senators, in their damaske-long-sleeved gownes come 
to Saint Marks. Also there were Venetian Knights and 
Ambassadors, that gave attendance upon him, and the 
first that went before him on the right hand, carried a 
naked sword in his hand. He himselfe then wore two 

[p. 250.] very rich robes or long garments, whereof the uppermost 
was white, of cloth of silver, with great massy buttons 
of gold, the other cloth of silver also, but adorned with 
many curious workes made in colours with needle worke. 
His traine was then holden up by two Gentlemen. At 
that time I heard much good musicke in Saint Markes 
Church, but especially that of a treble violl which was so 
excellent, that I thinke no man could surpasse it. Also 
there were sagbuts and cornets as at St. Laurence feast 
which yeelded passing good musicke. The third feast 
was upon Saint Roches day being Saturday and the sixth 
day of August, where I heard the best musicke that ever 
I did in all my life both in the morning and the afternoone, 



so good that I would willingly goe an hundred miles a 

foote at any time to heare the like. The place where it 

was, is neare to Saint Roches Church, a very sumptuous 

and magnificent building that belongeth to one of the 

sixe f Companies of the citie. For there are in Venice 

sixe Fraternities or Companies that have their severall 

halles (as we call them in London) belonging to them, T J? e Ctf y 

and great maintenance for the performing of those shewes 

that each company doth make ; as that Fraternitie to 

whom this most portly building neare Saint Roches 

Church belongeth (being farre the fairest of all the sixe) 

doth enjoy the yearely revenew of foureteene thousand 

Chiquinies, which do amount to sixe thousand ninety five 

pounds sixeteene shillings and eight pence. Every Chi- 

quinie containing eleven Livers, and twelve sols ; the 

Liver is nine pence, the sol an half penny. So that the 

Venetian Chiquinie countervaileth eight shillings eight 

pence halfe penny of our money. This building hath a 

marvailous rich and stately frontispice, being built with 

passing faire white stone, and adorned with many goodly 

pillars of marble. There are three most beautifull roomes 

in this building ; the first is the lowest, which hath two 

rowes of goodly pillars in it opposite to each other which [p- 2 5 J -] 

upon this day of Saint Roch were adorned with many 

faire pictures of great personages that hanged round 

about them, as of Emperours, Kings, Queenes, Dukes, 

Duchesses, Popes, &c. In this roome are two or three The Halls of 

faire Altars : For this roome is not appointed for merri- ~ e 

11 i i 11 i i Compt. 

ments and banquetmgs as the halles belonging to the 
Companies of London, but altogether for devotion and 
religion, therein to laud and prayse God and his Saints 
with Psalmes, Hymnes, spirituall songs and melodious 
musicke upon certaine daies dedicated unto Saints. The 
second is very spacious and large, having two or three 
faire Altars more : the roofe of this roome which is of a 

f These Companies are neither more nor lesse then sixe, to the 
end to answere the sixe parts or tribes whereof the whole citie con- 
sisteth. One Company being appointed for every particular tribe. 




stately heigth, is richly gilt and decked with many sumptu 
ous embossings of gold, and the walles are beautified with 
sundry delicate pictures, as also many parts of the roofe ; 
unto this room you must ascend by two or three very 
goodly paire of staires. The third room which is made 
at one corner of this spacious roome, is very beautifull, 
having both roofe and wals something correspondent to 
the other ; but the floore much more exquisite and 
curious, being excellently distinguished with checker 
worke made of several kinds of marble, which are put in 
by the rarest cunning that the wit of man can devise. 

The feast of The second roome is the place where this festivitie was 
solemnized to the honour of Saint Roch, at one end 
whereof was an Altar garnished with many singular 
ornaments, but especially with a great multitude of silver 
Candlesticks, in number sixty, and Candles in them of 
Virgin waxe. This feast consisted principally of Musicke, 
which was both vocall and instrumental, so good, so 
delectable, so rare, so admirable, so superexcellent, that 
it did even ravish and stupifie all those strangers that 
never heard the like. But how others were affected with 
it I know not ; for mine owne part I can say this, that I 
was for the time even rapt up with Saint Paul into the 

[p. 252.] third heaven. Sometimes there sung sixeteene or twenty 
men together, having their master or moderator to keepe 
them in order ; and when they sung, the instrumental! 
musitians played also. Sometimes sixeteene played 
together upon their instruments, ten Sagbuts, foure 
Cornets, and two Violdegambaes of an extraordinary 
greatness ; sometimes tenne, sixe Sagbuts and foure 

Beautiful Cornets ; sometimes two, a Cornet and a treble violl. Of 

71 Jf * 

those treble viols I heard three severall there, whereof 
each was so good, especially one that I observed above 
the rest, that I never heard the like before. Those that 
played upon the treble viols, sung and played together, 
and sometimes two singular fellowes played together upon 
Theorboes, to which they sung also, who yeelded admir 
able sweet musicke, but so still that they could 



scarce be heard but by those that were very neare 
them. These two Theorbists concluded that nights 
musicke, which continued three whole howers at the 
least. For they beganne about five of the clocke, 
and ended not before eight. Also it continued as 
long in the morning : at every time that every severall 
musicke played, the Organs, whereof there are seven faire 
paire in that room, standing al in a rowe together, plaied 
with them. Of the singers there were three or foure so The Singers. 
excellent that I thinke few or none in Christendome do 
excell them, especially one, who had such a peerelesse and 
(as I may in a maner say) such a supernaturall voice for 
such a privilege for the sweetnesse of his voice, as 
sweetnesse, that I think there was never a better singer 
in all the world, insomuch that he did not onely give the 
most pleasant contentment that could be imagined, to 
all the hearers, but also did as it were astonish and amaze 
them. I alwaies thought that he was an Eunuch, which 
if he had beene, it had taken away some part of my admira 
tion, because they do most commonly sing passing wel ; 
but he was not, therefore it was much the more admirable. A _ Wonderful 
Againe it was the more worthy of admiration, because he 
was a middle-aged man, as about forty yeares old. For 
nature doth more commonly bestowe such a singularitie [p. 253-] 
of voice upon boyes and striplings, then upon men of 
such yeares. Besides it was farre the more excellent, 
because it was nothing forced, strained, or affected, but 
came from him with the greatest facilitie that ever 
I heard. Truely I thinke that had a Nightingale 
beene in the same roome, and contended with him 
for the superioritie, something perhaps he might ex- 
cell him, because God hath granted that little birde 
such a priviledge for the sweetnesse of his voice, as 
to none other : but I thinke he could not much. To 
conclude, I attribute so much to this rare fellow for his 
singing, that I thinke the country where he was borne, 
may be as proude for breeding so singular a person as 
Smyrna was of her Homer, Verona of her Catullus, or 


A luxurious 

[p. 254.] 

Two men 

Mantua of Virgil : But exceeding happy may that Citie, 
or towne, or person bee that possesseth this miracle of 
nature. These musitians had bestowed upon them by 
that company of Saint Roche an hundred duckats, which 
is twenty three pound sixe shillings eight pence starling. 
Thus much concerning the musicke of those famous 
feastes of St. Laurence, the Assumption of our Lady, 
and Saint Roche. 

There is one very memorable thing (besides all the 
rest that I have before named) to be scene in Venice, 
if it be true that I heard reported of it ; even the head 
of a certaine Fryer which is set upon the top of one of 
their steeples : He was beheaded for his monstrous and 
inordinate luxury, as some affirme. For I heard many 
say in Venice that he begat with childe no lesse then ninety 
nine Nunnes, and that if his courage had served him to 
have begotten one more with child, that he might have 
made up the full number of an hundred, his life should 
have beene saved. I asked many Venetians whether this 
were true, who denied it unto me, but with such a kinde 
of smiling and laughter, that that denying seemed a kinde 
of confessing of the matter. Againe some others extenu 
ating the haynousnesse of the crime, told me that that 
was but a meere fable, and said the truth was, that he 
committed sacriledge by robbing one of the Churches of 
the Citie, stealing away their Chalices and other things of 
greatest worth ; after the which he fled out of the Venetian 
Signiorie : but being afterward apprehended, he was 
executed for this fact, and not for the other. 

On the fourth day of August being Thursday, I saw 
a very Tragicall and dolefull spectacle in Saint Markes 
place. Two men tormented with the strapado, which is 
done in this manner. The offender having his hands 
bound behind him, is conveighed into a rope that hangeth 
in a pully, and after hoysed up in the rope to a great 
heigth with two severall swinges, where he sustaineth so 
great torments that his joynts are for the time loosed and 
pulled asunder ; besides such abundance of bloud is 

39 2 


gathered into his hands and face, that for the time he is 
in the torture, his face and hands doe looke as red as 

The manuary artes of the Venetians are so exquisite Manuary 

and curious, that I thinke no artificers in the world doe ^ rts f the 
11 .1 11 -pi T Venetians. 

excell them in some, especially painting, ror 1 saw two 

things in a painters shop in Saint Markes, which I did 
not a little admire ; the one was the picture of a hinder 
quarter of Veal hanged up in his shop, which a stranger 
at the first sight would imagine to be a naturall and true 
quarter of veal ; but it was not : For it was only a 
counterfeit of a hinder quarter of veale, the rarest inven 
tion that ever I saw before. The other was the picture 
of a Gentlewoman, whose eies were contrived with that 
singularitie of cunning, that they moved up and down 
of themselves, not after a seeming manner, but truly and 
indeed. For I did very exactly view it. But I beleeve 
it was done by a vice which the Grecians call avro/u-arov. 
Also I observed another thing in the same shop that gave The picture of 
me great contentment, the picture of famous Cassandra assan ra 
that was commonly styled Fidelis Veneta Puella. Shee 
was in her time esteemed the very Phcenix and mirror of [p. 255.] 
all the women in Christendome for learning. Truly it 
did much the more comfort me to see her picture, because 
learned Angelus Politianus wrote a most elegant Epistle 
unto her with this beginning : O decus Italiae virgo, &c. 
which I have often read in the booke of his Epistles, and 
that with more pleasure and delight then any other of his 
Epistles, though they are all passing sweete, Atticis lepori- 
bus inspersae, & Hyblaeo melle dulciores. 

The burials are so strange both in Venice, and all other Strange 

Z? / 

Cities, Townes, and parishes of Italy, that they differ not 
onely from England, but from all other nations whatsoever 
in Christendome. For they carry the Corse to Church 
with the face, handes and feete all naked, and wearing 
the same apparell that the person wore lately before it 
died, or that which it craved to be buried in : which 
apparell is interred together with their bodies. Also I 



observed another thing in their burials that savoreth of 
intolerable superstition : many a man that hath beene a 
vitious and licentious liver, is buried in the habits of a 
Franciscan Frier ; the reason forsooth is, because they 
Virtue in a beleeve there is such virtue in the Friers cowle, that it 
Friar s cowl, will procure them remission of the third part of their 
sinnes : a most fond and impious opinion. We in Eng 
land do hope, and so doth every good Christian besides, 
to obtaine remission of our sinnes, through the meere 
merites of Christ, and not by wearing of a Friers frocke, 
to whom we attribute no more virtue than to a Bardocu- 
cullus, that is, a Shepheards ragged and weather beaten 

Also there is another very superstitious custome used 
not only in Venice, but also in all other cities and townes 
of Italy where I have beene, which is likewise observed 
(as I understand) in all cities townes, and parishes 
whatsoever of all Italy, in which they differ (as I thinke) 
from all Christian Nations, that at noone and the setting 
of the sunne, all men, women and children must kneele, 
and say their Ave Maria bare-headed wheresoever they 
are, eyther in their houses or in the streets, when the 
Ave Marie bell ringeth. Gesner writeth in his Biblio- 
theca, that that worthy man Josias Simlerus Tigurinus 
wrote a learned Dialogue concerning this subject, whether 
it were lawfull to pray bare headed, eyther at noone, or 
the evening at the ringing of this Ave Marie bell. But 
this Booke was but a manuscript and never printed : I 
thinke it doth taxe this custome ; for truely it is super 
stitious and worthy the taxing. 

There happened at the time of my being in Venice a 
yer ^ p roc [igious thing upon the first day of July being 
Friday. For that day there fell a shower of haile, lasting 
for the space of halfe an houre, that yeelded stones as 
great as Pigeons egges ; a thing that amazed all that 
beheld it. Also there was another strange thing that fel 
out when I was there : the ball or globe of a certaine 
Tower in the citie, together with the crosse that stood 


[p. 256.] 

A prodigious 
shower of hatl. 


thereon, was so extremely scorched with lightning, that 
it was turned coale black. For indeede two or three nights 
one after another it lightned as terribly in Venice as ever 
I saw in my life, and that most incessantly for many houres 

Amongst many other things that moved great admira 
tion in me in Venice, this was not the least, to consider 
the marveilous affluence and exuberancy of all things 
tending to the sustentation of mans life. For albeit they 
have neyther meadows, nor pastures, nor arable grounds 
neare their city (which is a matter impossible, because it 
is seated in the sea, and distinguished with such a multi- The victual- 
tude of channels) to yeeld them corne and victuals : yet ling of Venice. 
they have as great abundance (a thing very strange to be 
considered) or victuals, corne and fruites of all sorts what 
soever, as any city (I thinke) of all Italy. Their victuals 
and all other provision being very plenteously ministred 
unto them from Padua, Vicenza, and other bordering [p. 257.] 
townes and places of Lombardy, which are in their owne 
dominion. For I have seene their shambles and market 
places (whereof they have a great multitude) exceedingly 
well furnished with all manner of necessaries. As for Great plenty 
their fruits I have observed wonderful plenty amongst ff rutti - 
them, as Grapes, Peares, Apples, Plummes, Apricockes : 
all which are sold by weight, and not by tale : Figges 
most excellent of three or foure sorts, as blacke, which 
are the daintiest, greene, and yellow. Likewise they had 
another special commodity when I was there, which is 
one of the most delectable dishes for a Sommer fruite of 
all Christendome, namely muske Melons. I wondered Musk melons. 
at the plenty of them ; for there was such store brought 
into the citie every morning and evening for the space 
of a moneth together, that not onely St. Markes place, 
but also all the market places of the citie were super 
abundantly furnished with them : insomuch that I thinke 
there were sold so many of them every day for that space, 
as yeelded five hundred pound sterling. They are of 
three sorts, yellow, greene, and redde, but the red is most 


[p. 258.] 

The fruit 
called An 



roothsome of all. The great long banke whereof I have 
before spoken, which is interjected as a strong Rampier 
betwixt the Adriatique sea and the citie, even the Litto 
maggior, doth yeeld the greatest store of these Melons 
Good counsel, that are brought to Venice. But I advise thee (gentle 
Reader) if thou meanest to see Venice, and shall happen 
to be there in the sommer time when they are ripe, to 
abstaine from the immoderate eating of them. For the 
sweetnesse of them is such as hath allured many men 
to eate so immoderately of them, that they have therewith 
hastened their untimely death : the fruite being indeed 
yXvicv irucpov that is, sweete-sowre. Sweete in the palate, 
but sowre in the stomacke, if it be not soberly eaten. For 
it doth often breede the Dysenteria, that is, the bloudy 
fluxe : of which disease the Emperour Fredericke the 
third died by the intemperate eating of them, as I will 
hereafter declare in my observations of Germany. Also 
they have another excellent fruite called Anguria, the 
coldest fruit in taste that ever I did eate : the pith of 
it, which is in the middle, is as redde as blood, and full 
of blacke kernels. They finde a notable commodity of 
it in sommer, for the cooling of themselves in time of 
heate. For it hath the most refrigerating vertue of all 
the fruites of Italy. Moreover the abundance of fish, 
which is twise a day brought into the citie, is so great, 
that they have not onely exceeding plenty for themselves, 
but also doe communicate that commodity to their neigh 
bour townes. Amongst many other strange fishes that 
I have observed in their market places, I have seene many 
Torteises, whereof I never saw but one in all England. 
Besides they have great plenty of fowle, and such admir 
able variety thereof, that I have heard in the citie they 
are furnished with no lesse then two hundred severall 
sortes of them. I have observed a thing amongst the 
Venetians, that I have not a little wondred at, that their 
Gentlemen and greatest Senators, a man worth perhaps 
two millions of duckats, will come into the market, and 
buy their flesh, fish, fruites, and such other things as are 



necessary for the maintenance of their family : a token 

indeed of frugality, which is commendable in all men ; Commendable 

but me thinkes it is not an argument of true generosity, f ru S altt y- 

that a noble spirit should deject it selfe to these petty and 

base matters, that are fitter to be done by servants then 

men of a generose parentage. Therefore I commend 

mine owne countrey-man, the English Gentleman, that 

scorneth to goe into the market to buy his victuals and 

other necessaries for house-keeping, but employeth his 

Cooke or Cator about those inferior and sordid affaires. 

It is said there are of all the Gentlemen of Venice, 
which are there called Clarissimoes, no lesse then three 
thousand, all which when they goe abroad out of their 
houses, both they that beare office, and they that are pri- [p- 259.] 
vate, doe weare gownes : wherein they imitate f Romanes 
rerum Dominos, gentemque togatam. Most of their Gou J ^ 
gownes are made of blacke cloth, and over their left ^ 
shoulder they have a flappe made of the same cloth, and 
edged with blacke Taffata : Also most of their gownes 
are faced before with blacke Taffata : There are others 
also that weare other gownes according to their distinct 
offices and degrees ; as they that are of the Councell of 
tenne (which are as it were the maine body of the whole 
estate) doe most commonly weare blacke chamlet gownes, 
with marvielous long sleeves, that reach almost downe to 
the ground. Againe they that weare red chamlet gownes Red GOZi n 


with long sleeves, are those that are called Savi, whereof 
some have authority onely by land, as being the principall 
Overseers of the Podesta es and Praetors in their land 
cities, and some by Sea. There are others also that weare 
blew cloth gownes with blew flapps over their shoulders, 
edged with Taffata. These are the Secretaries of the 
Councell of tenne. Upon every great festivall day the 
Senators, and greatest Gentlemen that accompany the Duke 
to Church, or to any other place, doe weare crimson 
damaske gownes, with flappes of crimson velvet cast over 
their left shoulders. Likewise the Venetian Knights 

t Virgil. ^Enei. I. 


Dress of the 


attire very 
[p. 260.] 

fashions in 

weare blacke damaske gownes with long sleeves : but 
hereby they are distinguished from the other Gentlemen. 
For they weare red apparell under their gownes, red silke 
stockings, and red pantafles. All these gowned men doe 
weare marveilous little blacke flat caps of felt, without any 
brimmes at all, and- very diminutive falling bandes, no 
ruffes at all, which are so shallow, that I have seene many 
of them not above a little inch deepe. The colour that 
they most affect and use for their other apparel, I mean 
doublet, hose, and jerkin, is blacke : a colour of gravity 
and decency. Besides the forme and fashion of their attire 
is both very auncient, even the same that hath beene used 
these thousand yeares amongst them, and also uniforme. 
For all of them use but one and the same forme of habite, 
even the slender doublet made close to the body, without 
much quilting or bombase, and long hose plaine, without 
those new fangled curiosities, and ridiculous superfluities 
of panes, plaites, and other light toyes used with us 
English men. Yet they make it of costly stuffe, well 
beseeming Gentlemen and eminent persons of their place, 
as of the best Taffates, and Sattins that Christendome 
doth yeeld, which are fairely garnished also with lace of 
the best sort. In both these things they much differ 
from us English men. For whereas they have but one 
colour, we use many more then are in the Rain-bow, all 
the most light, garish, and unseemely colours that are in 
the world. Also for fashion we are much inferiour to 
them. For we weare more phantasticall fashions then 
any Nation under the Sunne doth, the French onely 
excepted ; which hath given occasion both to the Venetian 
and other Italians to brand the English-man with a notable 
marke of levity, by painting him starke naked with a paire 
of shears in his hand, making his fashion of attire accord 
ing to the vaine invention of his braine-sicke head, not 
to comelinesse and decorum. 

But to returne to these gowned Gentlemen : I observed 
an extraordinary custome amongst them, that when two 
acquaintances meete and talke together at the walking 



times of the day, whereof I have before spoken, eyther 

in the Dukes Palace, or S. Markes place, they give a 

mutuall kisse when they depart from each other, by kissing Salutations. 

one anothers cheeke : a custome that I never saw before, 

nor heard of, nor read of in any history. Likewise when 

they meete onely and not talke, they give a low congie 

to each other by very civill and courteous gestures, as by 

bending of their bodies, and clapping their right hand 

upon their breastes, without uncovering of their heads, [p. 261.] 

which sometimes they use, but very seldome. 

Most of the women when they walke abroad, especially Veikdwomen. 
to Church, are vailed with long vailes, whereof some doe 
reache almost to the ground behinde. These vailes are 
eyther blacke, or white, or yellowish. The blacke eyther 
wives or widowes do weare : the white maides, and so the 
yellowish also ; but they weare more white then yellowish. 
It is the custome of these maydes when they walke in 
the streetes, to cover their faces with their vailes, vere- 
cundiae causa, the stuffe being so thin and slight, that they 
may easily looke through it. For it is made of a pretty 
slender silke, and very finely curled : so that because she 
thus hoodwinketh her selfe, you can very seldome see 
her face at full when she walketh abroad, though perhaps 
you earnestly desire it, but only a little glimpse thereof. 
Now whereas I said before that onely maydes doe weare 
white vailes, and none else, I meane these white silke 
curled vayles, which (as they tolde me) none doe weare 
but maydes. But other white vayles wives doe much wives veils. 
weare, such as are made of holland, whereof the greatest 
part is handsomely edged with great and very faire bone- 
lace. Almost all the wives, widowes and mayds do walke 
abroad with their breastes all naked, and many of them 
have their backes also naked even almost to the middle, 
which some do cover with a slight linnen, as cobwebbe 
lawne, or such other thinne stuffe : a fashion me thinkes 
very uncivill and unseemely, especially if the beholder 
might plainly see them. For I beleeve unto many that 
have prurientem libidinem, they would minister a great 



. 262.] 


incentive & fomentation of luxurious desires. Howbeit 
it is much used both in Venice and Padua. For very 
few of them do weare bands but only Gentlewomen, and 
those do weare little lawne or cambricke ruffes. There 
is one thing used of the Venetian women, and some 
others dwelling in the cities and towns subject to the 
Signiory of Venice, that is not to be observed (I thinke) 
amongst any other women in Christendome : which is 
so common in Venice, that no woman whatsoever goeth 
without it, either in her house or abroad ; a thing made 
of wood, and covered with leather of sundry colors, some 
with white, some redde, some yellow. It is called a 
Chapiney, which they weare under their shoes. Many 
of them are curiously painted ; some also I have seene 
fairely gilt : so uncomely a thing (in my opinion) that 
it is pitty this foolish custom is not cleane banished and 
exterminated out of the citie. There are many of these 
Chapineys of a great heigth, even half a yard high, which 
maketh many of their women that are very short, seeme 
much taller then the tallest women we have in England. 
Also I have heard that this is observed amongst them, 
that by how much the nobler a woman is, by so much 
the higher are her Chapineys. All their Gentlewomen, 
and most of their wives and widowes that are of any 
wealth, are assisted and supported eyther by men or 
women when they walke abroad, to the end they may 
not fall. They are borne up most commonly by the 
left arme, otherwise they might quickly take a fall. For 
I saw a woman fall a very dangerous fall, as she was going 
down the staires of one of the little stony bridges with 
her high Chapineys alone by her selfe : but I did nothing 
pitty her, because shee wore such frivolous and (as I may 
truely terme them) ridiculous instruments, which were the 
occasion of her fall. For both I my selfe, and many other 
strangers (as I have observed in Venice) have often laughed 
at them for their vaine Chapineys. 

Head dress of All the women of Venice every Saturday in the after- 
the women. nO one doe use to annoint their haire with oyle, or some 




other f drugs, to the end to make it looke faire, that is 
whitish. For that colour is most affected of the Venetian 
Dames and Lasses. And in this manner they do it : first 
they put on a readen hat, without any crowne at all, but 
brimmes of exceeding breadth and largeness : then they [p- 263.] 
sit in some sun-shining place in a chamber or some other 
secret roome, where having a looking-glasse before them 
they sophisticate and dye their haire with the foresaid 
drugs, and after cast it backe round upon the brimmes of Hair 
the hat, till it be throughly dried with the heat of the dressing. 
sunne : and last of all they curie it up in curious locks 
with a frisling or crisping pinne of iron, which we cal in 
Latin Calamistrum, the toppe whereof on both sides above 
their forehead is acuminated in two peakes. That this 
is true, I know by mine owne experience. For it was my 
chaunce one day when I was in Venice, to stand by an 
Englishman s wife, who was a Venetian woman borne, 
while she was thus trimming of her haire : a favour not 
affoorded to every stranger. 

But since I have taken occasion to mention some notable The 
particulars of their women, I will insist farther upon that ^ ourtesan *- 
matter, and make relation of their Cortezans also, as being 
a thing incident and very proper to this discourse, especially 
because the name of a Cortezan of Venice is famoused 
over all Christendome. And I have here inserted a picture 
of one of their nobler Cortezans, according to her Venetian 
habites, with my owne neare unto her, made in that forme 
as we saluted each other. Surely by so much the more 
willing I am to treate something of them, because I per 
ceive it is so rare a matter to find a description of the 
Venetian Cortezans in any Authour, that all the writers 
that I could ever see, which have described the city, have 
altogether excluded them out of their writings. There 
fore seeing the History of these famous gallants is omitted 
by all others that have written just Commentaries of the 

f These kind of ointments wherewith women were wont to annoint 
their haire, were heretofore called Capillaria unguenta. Turnebus 
Adversari. lib. I. ca. 7. 

C. C. 401 2 C 


Venetian state, as I know it is not impertinent to this 
present Discourse to write of them ; so I hope it will 
not be ungratefull to the Reader to reade that of these 
notable persons, which no Author whatsoever doth impart 

[p. 264.] un to him but my selfe. Onely I feare least I shall 
expose my selfe to the severe censure and scandalous 
imputations of many carping Criticks, who I thinke will 
taxe me for luxury and wantonnesse to insert so lascivious 
a matter into this Treatise of Venice. Wherefore at the 
end of this discourse of the Cortezans I will adde some 
Apologie for my selfe, which I hope will in some sort 
satisfie them, if they are not too captious. 

The woman that professeth this trade is called in the 
Italian tongue Cortezana, which word is derived from the 
Italian word cortesia that signifieth courtesie. Because 
these kinde of women are said to receive courtesies of 
their favourites. Which word hath some kinde of affinitie 
with the Greeke word eratpa which signifieth properly a 
sociable woman, and is by Demosthenes, Athenaeus, and 
divers other prose writers often taken for a woman of a 

Their number dissolute conversation. As for the number of these 
Venetian Cortezans it is very great. For it is thought 
there are of them in the whole City and other adjacent 
places, as Murano, Malomocco, &c. at the least twenty 
thousand, whereof many are esteemed so loose, that they 
are said to open their quivers to every arrow. A most 
ungodly thing without doubt that there should be a 
tolleration of such licentious wantons in so glorious, so 
potent, so renowned a city. For me thinks that the 
Venetians should be daylie affraid least their winking at 
such uncleannesse should be an occasion to draw down 
upon them Gods curses and vengeance from heaven, and 
to consume their city with fire and brimstone, as in times 
past he did Sodome and Gomorrha. But they not fearing 
any such thing doe graunt large dispensation and indulg 
ence unto them, and that for these two causes. First, ad 
vitanda majora mala. For they thinke that the chastity 
of their wives would be the sooner assaulted, and so 



consequently they should be capricornified, (which of all 

the indignities in the world the Venetian cannot patiently 

endure) were it not for these places of evacuation. But [p. 265.] 

I marvaile how that should be true though these Cortezans 

were utterly rooted out of the City. For the Gentlemen 

do even coope up their wives alwaies within the walles of 

their houses for feare of these inconveniences, as much as 

if there were no Cortezans at all in the City. So that 

you shall very seldome see a Venetian Gentleman s wife 

but either at the solemnization of a great marriage, or at 

the Christning of a Jew, or late in the evening rowing 

in a Gondola. The second cause is for that the revenues Great 

which they pay unto the Senate for their tolleration, doe reve " ues P atel 

J \ J r 1 1 1 i to ( he State. 

mamtame a dozen or their galleys, (as many reported unto 

me in Venice) and so save them a great charge. The 
consideration of these two things hath moved them to 
tolerate for the space of these many hundred yeares these 
kinde of Laides and Thaides, who may as fitly be termed 
the stales of Christendome as those were heretofore of 
Greece. For so infinite are the allurements of these 
amorous Calypsoes, that the fame of them hath drawen 
many to Venice from some of the remotest parts of 
Christendome, to contemplate their beauties, and enjoy 
their pleasing dalliances. And indeede such is the variety 
of the delicious objects they minister to their lovers, that 
they want nothing tending to delight. For when you 
come into one of their Palaces (as indeed some few of the 
principallest of them live in very magnificent and portly 
buildings fit for the entertainement of a great Prince) you 
seeme to enter into the Paradise of Venus. For their The Paradise 
fairest roomes are most glorious and glittering to behold. f Venus - 
The walles round about being adorned with most sumptu 
ous tapistry and gilt leather, such as I have spoken of in 
my Treatise of Padua. Besides you may see the picture 
of the noble Cortezan most exquisitely drawen. As for 
her selfe shee comes to thee decked like the Queene and 
Goddesse of love, in so much that thou wilt thinke she 
made a late transmigration from Paphos, Cnidos, or [p. 266.] 



Cythera, the auncient habitations of Dame Venus. For 
her face is adorned with the quintessence of beauty. In 
her cheekes thou shalt see the Lilly and the Rose strive 
for the supremacy, and the silver tramels of her haire 
displayed in that curious manner besides her two frisled 
peakes standing up like prety Pyramides, that they give 
thee the true Cos amoris. But if thou hast an exact 
judgement, thou maist easily discerne the effects of those 
Apothecary famous apothecary drugs heretofore used amongst the 
Noble Ladies of Rome, even stibium, cerussa, and pur- 
purissum. For few of the Cortezans are so much 
beholding to nature, but that they adulterate their faces, 
and supply her defect with one of these three. A thing 
so common amongst them, that many of them which have 
an elegant naturall beauty, doe varnish their faces (the 
observation whereof made me not a little pitty their 
vanities) with these kinde of sordid trumperies. Wherein 
me thinks they seeme ebur atramento candefacere, accord 
ing to that excellent *Proverbe of Plautus ; that is, to 
make ivorie white with inke. Also the ornaments of her 
body are so rich, that except thou dost even geld thy 
affections (a thing hardly to be done) or carry with thee 
Ulysses hearbe called Moly which is mentioned by Homer, 
that is, some antidote against those Venereous titillations, 
shee wil very neare benumme and captivate thy senses, and 

Costly gems, make reason vale bonnet to affection. For thou shalt see 
her decked with many chaines of gold and orient pearle 
like a second Cleopatra, (but they are very litle) divers 
gold rings beautified with diamonds and other costly stones, 
jewels in both her eares of great worth. A gowne of 
damaske (I speake this of the nobler Cortizans) either 
decked with a deep gold fringe (according as I have 
expressed it in the picture of the Cortizan that I have 
placed about the beginning of this discourse) or laced with 
five or sixe gold laces each two inches broade. Her petti- 

[p. 267.] coate of red chamlet edged with rich gold fringe, stockings 
of carnasion silke, her breath and her whole body, the 
* Eras. ada. Chil. i Cent. 3. adag. 70. 


more to enamour thee, most fragrantly perfumed. Though 

these things will at the first sight seeme unto thee most 

delectable allurements, yet if thou shalt rightly weigh them 

in the scales of a mature judgement, thou wilt say with 

the wise man, and that very truely, that they are like a 

golden ring in a swines snowt. Moreover shee will 

endevour to enchaunt thee partly with her melodious notes 

that she warbles out upon her lute, which shee fingers 

with as laudable a stroake as many men that are excellent 

professors in the noble science of Musicke ; and partly 

with that heart-tempting harmony of her voice. Also 

thou wilt finde the Venetian Cortezan (if she be a selected 

woman indeede) a good Rhetorician, and a most elegant 

discourser, so that if she cannot move thee with all these R/ietonctans - 

foresaid delights, shee will assay thy constancy with her 

Rhetoricall tongue. And to the end shee may minister 

unto thee the stronger temptations to come to her lure, 

shee will shew thee her chamber of recreation, where thou 

shalt see all manner of pleasing objects, as many faire 

painted coffers wherewith it is garnished round about, a 

curious milke-white canopy of needle worke, a silke quilt 

embrodered with gold : and generally all her bedding 

sweetly perfumed. And amongst other amiable ornaments 

shee will shew thee one thing only in her chamber tending 

to mortification, a matter strange amongst so many irrita- 

menta malorum ; even the picture of our Lady by her 

bedde side, with Christ in her armes, placed within a 

cristall glasse. But beware notwithstanding all these 

illecebrae & lenocinia amoris, that thou enter not into 

termes of private conversation with her. For then thou 

shalt finde her such a one as Lipsius truly cals her, callidam 

& calidam Solis filiam, that is, the crafty and hot daughter 

of the Sunne. Moreover I will tell thee this newes which 

is most true, that if thou shouldest wantonly converse [p. 268.] 

with her, and not give her that salarium iniquitatis, which 

thou hast promised her, but perhaps cunningly escape from 

her company, shee will either cause thy throate to be cut 

by her Rurfiano, if he can after catch thee in the City, or 



procure thee to be arrested (if thou art to be found) and 
clapped up in the prison, where thou shalt remaine till thou 
hast paid her all thou didst promise her. Therefore for 
fs avoiding of those inconveniences, I will give thee the same 

counsel. counsell that Lipsius did to a friend of his that was to 

travell into Italy, even to furnish thy selfe with a double 
armour, the one for thine eyes, the other for thine eares. 
As for thine eyes, shut them and turne them aside from 
these venereous Venetian objects. For they are the 
double windowes that conveigh them to thy heart. Also 
thou must fortifie thine eares against the attractive 
inchauntments of their plausible speeches. Therefore 
even as wrestlers were wont heretofore to fence their eares 
against al exterior annoyances, by putting to them certaine 
instruments called a/m(pwTi$e$ : so doe thou take unto thy 
selfe this firme foundation against the amorous woundes 
of the Venetian Cortezans, to heare none of their wanton 
toyes ; or if thou wilt needes both see and heare them, 
doe thou only cast thy breath upon them in that manner 
as we doe upon steele, which is no sooner on but incon 
tinent it falleth off againe : so doe thou only breath a few 
words upon them, and presently be gone from them : for 
if thou dost linger with them thou wilt finde their poyson 
to be more pernicious then that of the scorpion, aspe, or 
cocatrice. Amongst other things that I heard of these 
kinde of women in Venice, one is this, that when their Cos 
amoris beginneth to decay, when their youthfull vigor 

A strange end. is spent, then they consecrate the dregs of their olde age 
to God by going into a Nunnery, having before 
dedicated the flower of their youth to the divell; 
some of them also having scraped together so much 

[p. 269.] pelfe by their sordid facultie as doth maintaine them 
well in their old age : For many of them are as rich 
as ever was Rhodope in Egypt, Flora in Rome, or Lais in 
Corinth. One example whereof I have before mentioned 
in Margarita .ZEmiliana that built a faire Monastery of 
Augustinian Monkes. There is one most notable thing 
more to be mentioned concerning these Venetian Corte- 



zans, with the relation whereof I will end this discourse 
of them. If any of them happen to have any children 
(as indeede they have but few, for according to the old 
proverbe the best carpenters make the fewest chips) they 
are brought up either at their own charge, or in a certaine 
house of the citie appointed for no other use but onely 
for the bringing up of the Cortezans bastards, which I saw 
Eastward above Saint Markes streete neare to the sea side. 
In the south wall of which building that looketh towards 
the sea, I observed a certaine yron grate inserted into a 
hollow peece of the wall, betwixt which grace and a plaine 
stone beneath it, there is a convenient little space to put 
in an infant. Hither doth the mother or some body for ^ notable 
her bring the child shortly after it is borne into the world ; custom - 
and if the body of it be no greater, but that it may con 
veniently without any hurt to the infant bee conveighed 
in at the foresaid space, they put it in there without 
speaking at all to any body that is in the house to take 
charge thereof. And from thenceforth the mother is 
absolutely discharged of her child. But if the child bee 
growne to that bignesse that they cannot conveigh it 
through that space, it is carryed backe againe to the 
mother, who taketh charge of it her selfe, and bringeth it 
up as well as she can. Those that are brought up in this 
foresaid house, are removed therehence when they come to 
yeares of discretion, and many of the male children are 
employed in the warres, or to serve in the Arsenall, or 
Galleys at sea, or some other publique service for the 
Common weale. And many of the females if they bee 
faire doe matrizare, that is, imitate their mothers in their [p. 27-] 
gainfull facultie, and get their living by prostituting their 
bodies to their favourites. Thus have I described unto 
thee the Venetian Cortezans ; but because I have related 
so many particulars of them, as few Englishmen that have 
lived many yeares in Venice, can do the like, or at the 
least if they can, they will not upon their returne into 
England, I beleeve thou wilt cast an aspersion of wanton- 
nesse upon me, and say that I could not know all these 



matters without mine owne experience. I answere thee, 
that although I might have knowne them without my 
experience, yet for my better satisfaction, I went to one of 
their noble houses (I wil confesse) to see the manner of 
their life, and observe their behaviour, but not with such 
an intent as we reade Demosthenes went to Lais, to the 
end to pay something for repentance ; but rather as 
Panutius did to Thais, of whom we read that when he 
came to her, and craved a secret roome for his pastime, 
she should answere him that the same roome where they 
were together, was secret enough, because no body could 
see them but onely God ; upon which speech the godly 
man tooke occasion to persuade her to the feare of God 
and religion, and to the reformation of her licentious life, 
since God was able to prie into the secretest corners of the 
world. And so at last converted her by this meanes from 
a wanton Cortezan to a holy and religious woman. In 
like manner I both wished the conversion of the Cortezan 
that I saw, and did my endevour by perswasive termes to 
convert her, though my speeches could not take the like 
effect that those of Panutius did. Withall I went thither 
partly to the end to see whether those things were true 
that I often heard before both in England, France, Savoy, 
Italy, and also in Venice it selfe concerning these famous 
women, for 

Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures 
quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, & quse 
[p. 271.] ipse sibi tradit spectator 

Neither can I be perswaded that it ought to be esteemed 

for a staine or blemish to the reputation of an honest and 

ingenuous man to see a Cortezan in her house, and note 

her manners and conversation, because according to the 

The know-^ Q \& maxime, Cognitio mali non est mala, the knowledge 

ledge of evil Q f ev ^j j g not ev [\\ |- )ut fa e p rac tice and execution thereof. 

is not evil. T- T 1 i 1 MI i 

bor 1 thinke that a virtuous man will be the more con 
firmed and settled in virtue by the observation of some 
vices, then if he did not at all know what they were. For 



which cause we may read that the auncient Lacedemonians 
were wont sometimes to make their slaves drunke, which 
were called Helotae, and so present them to their children 
in the middest of their drunken pangs, to the end that by 
seeing the uglinesse of that vice in others, they might 
the more loath and detest it in themselves all the dayes 
of their life afterward : as for mine owne part I would 
have thee consider that even as the river Rhodanus (to 
use that most excellent comparison, that eloquent Kirch- 
nerus doth in his Oration that I have prefixed before this 
booke) doth passe through the lake Losanna, and yet 
mingleth not his waters therewith ; and as the Fountain 
Arethusa runneth through the Sea, and confoundeth not 
her fresh water with the salt liquor of the sea ; and as 
the beames of the Sunne doe penetrate into many uncleane 
places, and yet are nothing polluted with the impuritie 
thereof : so did I visite the Palace of a noble Cortezan, 
view her own amorous person, heare her talke, observe 
her fashion of life, and. yet was nothing contaminated 
therewith, nor corrupted in maner. Therefore I instantly 
request thee (most candid reader) to be as charitably con 
ceited of me, though I have at large deciphered and as it 
were anatomized a Venetian Cortezan unto thee, as thou 
wouldest have me of thy selfe upon the like request. 

I hope it will not be esteemed for an impertinencie to The Mounte- 
my discourse, if I next speake of the Mountebanks of & an *f f 
Venice, seeing amongst many other thinges that doe much .- entce -, 
famouse this Citie, these two sorts of people, namely the 
Cortezans and the Mountebanks, are not the least : for 
although there are Mountebanks also in other Cities of 
Italy ; yet because there is a greater concurse of them in 
Venice then else where, and that of the better sort and the 
most eloquent fellowes ; and also for that there is a larger 
tolleration of them here then in other Cities (for in Rome, 
&c. they are restrained from certain matters as I have heard 
which are heere allowed them) therefore they use to name a 
Venetian Mountebanke KUT e^o^v for the coryphaeus and 
principall Mountebanke of all Italy : neither doe I much 



doubt but that this treatise of them will be acceptable to 
some readers, as being a meere novelty never before heard 
of (I thinke) by thousands of our English Gallants. 
Surely the principall reason that hath induced me to make 
mention of them is, because when I was in Venice, they 
oftentimes ministred infinite pleasure unto me. I will 
first beginne with the etymologic of their name : the word 
Mountebanke (being in the Italian tongue Monta inbanco) 
is compounded of two Italian words. Montare which 
signifieth to ascend or goe up to a place, and banco a bench, 
because these fellowes doe act their part upon a stage, 
which is compacted of benches or fourmes, though I have 
seene some fewe of them also stand upon the ground when 
they tell their tales, which are such as are commonly called 
Ciaratanoe s or Ciarlatans, in Latin they are called Circula- 
tores and Aoyrtae, which is derived from the Greeke worde 
ayelpeiv which signifieth to gather or draw a company of 
The place of people together, in Greek Oav/maTOTroioi. The principall 
their acting. p] ace w here they act, is the first part of Saint Marks street 
that reacheth betwixt the West front of S. Marks Church, 
and the opposite front of Saint Geminians Church. In 
which, twice a day, that is, in the morning and in the after- 
[p. 273.] noone, you may see five or sixe severall stages erected for 
them : those that act upon the ground, even the foresaid 
Ciarlatans being of the poorer sort of them, stand most 
commonly in the second part of S. Marks, not far from the 
gate of the Dukes Palace. These Mountebanks at one 
end of their stage place their trunke, which is replenished 
with a world of new-fangled trumperies. After the whole 
rabble of them is gotten up to the stage, whereof some 
weare visards being disguised like fooles in a play, some 
Women t na t are women (for there are divers women also amongst 

Mountebanks, ^g^ are at tyred with habits according to that person that 
they sustaine ; after (I say) they are all upon the stage, the 
musicke begins. Sometimes vocall, sometimes instru- 
mentall, and sometimes both together. This musicke is a 
preamble and introduction to the ensuing matter : in the 
meane time while the musicke playes, the principall 



Mountebanke which is the Captaine and ring-leader of all 
the rest, opens his truncke, and sets abroach his wares ; 
after the musicke hath ceased, he maketh an oration to the 
audience of halfe an houre long, or almost an houre. 
Wherein he doth most hyperbolically extoll the vertue of 
his drugs and confections : 

Laudat venales qui vult extrudere merces. 

Though many of them are very counterfeit and false. 
Truely I often wondred at many of these naturall Orators. 
For they would tell their tales with such admirable volu 
bility and plausible grace, even extempore, and seasoned 
with that singular variety of elegant jests and witty con 
ceits, that they did often strike great admiration into 
strangers that never heard them before : and by how much 
the more eloquent these Naturalists are, by so much the 
greater audience they draw unto them, and the more ware 
they sell. After the chiefest Mountebankes first speech 
is ended, he delivereth out his commodities by little and 
little, the jester still playing his part, and the musitians 
singing and playing upon their instruments. The princi- [p. 274.] 
pall things that they sell are oyles, soveraigne waters, 
amorous songs printed, Apothecary drugs, and a Common- 
weale of other trifles. The head Mountebanke at every The head 
time that he delivereth out any thing, maketh an extern- Mountbank - 
porall speech, which he doth eftsoones intermingle with 
such savory jests (but spiced now and then with singular 
scurrility) that they minister passing mirth and laughter 
to the whole company, which perhaps may consist of a 
thousand people that flocke together about one of their 
stages. For so many according to my estimation I have 
seene giving attention to some notable eloquent Mounte 
banke. I have observed marveilous strange matters done 
by some of these Mountebankes. For I saw one of them Strange 
holde a viper in his hand, and play with his sting a quarter matters - 
of an houre together, and yet receive no hurt ; though 
another man should have beene presently stung to death 
with it. He made us all beleeve that the same viper was 



linealy descended from the generation of that viper that 
lept out of the fire upon f S. Pauls hand, in the Island of 
Melita now called Malta, and did him no hurt ; and told 
us moreover that it would sting some, and not others. 
Also I have seene a Mountebanke hackle and gash his 
naked arme with a knife most pittifully to beholde, so 
that the blood hath streamed out in great abundance, and 
by and by after he hath applied a certaine oyle unto it, 
wherewith he hath incontinent both stanched the blood, 
and so throughly healed the woundes and gashes, that 
when he hath afterward shewed us his arme againe, we 
could not possibly perceive the least token of a gash. 
Besides there was another black gowned Mountebanke 
that gave most excellent contentment to the company 
A blind that frequented his stage. This fellow was borne blind, 
Mountebank. anc j so continued to that day : he never missed Saint 
Markes place twise a day for sixe weekes together : he 
was noted to be a singular fellow for singing extemporall 
[p. 275.] songes, and for a pretty kinde of musicke that he made 
with two bones betwixt his fingers. Moreover I have 
seene some of them doe such strange jugling trickes as . 
would be almost incredible to be reported. Also I have 
observed this in them, that after they have extolled their 
wares to the skies, having set the price of tenne crownes 
upon some one of their commodities, they have at last 
descended so low, that they have taken for it foure gazets, 
which is something lesse then a groat. These merry 
fellowes doe most commonly continue two good howres 
upon the stage, and at last when they have fedde the 
audience with such passing variety of sport, that they are 
even cloyed with the superfluity of their conceits, and 
have sold as much ware as they can, they remove their 
trinkets and stage till the next meeting. 

Thus much concerning the Mountebankes. 
t Act. 28. 5. 



THe heat of Venice about the hottest time of sommer The heat of 
is oftentime very extreme, especially betwixt eleven emce * 
of the clocke in the morning, and two in the afternoone, 
insomuch that about noone you shall see very few in the 
whole city walking abroad, but asleepe eyther in their 
own houses, or in the publique walkes or other open 
places abroad in the citie. For mine owne part I can 
speake by experience, that for the whole time almost that 
I was in Venice the heate was so intolerable, that I was 
constrained to lie starke naked most commonly every 
night, and could not endure any clothes at all upon me. 

There are certaine desperate and resolute villaines in Deiperate 
Venice, called Braves, who at some unlawfull times do 
commit great villainy. They wander abroad very late in 
the night to and fro for their prey, like hungry Lyons, 
being armed with a privy coate of maile, a gauntlet upon 
their right hand, and a little sharpe dagger called a 
stiletto. They lurke commonly by the water side, and if 
at their time of the night, which is betwixt eleven of the [p- 2 7 6 -] 
clocke and two, they happen to meete any man that is 
worth the rifling, they will presently stabbe him, take away 
all about him that is of any worth, and when they have 
throughly pulled his plumes, they will throw him into 
one of the channels : but they buy this booty very deare 
if they are after apprehended. For they are presently 

I observed one thing in Venice that I utterly condemned, Street fights. 
that if two men should fight together at sharpe openly in 
the streets, whereas a great company will suddenly flocke 
together about them, all of them will give them leave to 
fight till their hearts ake, or till they welter in their owne 
blood, but not one of them hath the honesty to part them, 
and keepe them asunder from spilling each others blood : 
also if one of the two should be slaine they will not offer 
to apprehend him that slew the other (except the person 
slaine be a Gentleman of the citie) but suffer him to go 
at randome whither he list, without inflicting any punish 
ment upon him. A very barbarous and unchristian thing 



An English 

[P- 2 77-] 
The ranks of 

the Venetians. 

An honour 
able title. 

to winke at such effusion of Christian blood, in which 
they differ (in my opinion) from all Christians. The like 
I understand is to be observed in Milan and other cities 
of Italy. 

There happened a thing when I was in Venice, that 
moved great commiseration and sympathie in me : I saw 
a certain English-man one Thomas Taylour, born in 
Leicester-shire, endure great slavery in one of the Vene 
tian galleys : for whose inlargement I did my utmost 
endeavour, but all would not serve. I would to God he 
had not committed that fault which deserved that con 
demnation to the galleys. For indeed he tooke pay before 
hand of the Venetians for service in their warres, and 
afterward fled away. But being againe apprehended, they 
have made him with many trickling teares repent his flying 
from them. 

There have beene some Authours that have distin 
guished the orders or rankes of the Venetians into three 
degrees, as the Patritians, the Merchants, and the Ple 
beians : but for the most part they are divided into two, 
the Patritians, which are otherwise called the Clarissimoes 
or the Gentlemen, & the Plebeians. By the Patritians 
are meant those that have the absolute sway and governe- 
ment of the State or Signiory both by sea and land, and 
administer justice at home and abroad. By the Plebeians 
those of the vulgar sort that use mechanicall and manuarie 
trades, and are excluded from all manner of authority in 
the Common-weale. 

The nobler families of the citie are these : the Candiani, 
the Donati, the Gritti, the Justiniani, the Lauredani, the 
Mocenigi, the Mauroceni, the Venerii, the Prioli, the 
Barbari, the Contareni, Cornarii, the Gradenigi, the Dan- 
dali, the Zani, the Falerii, the Malipetri, the Foscari : Of 
all which families there have beene Dukes of the citie ; 
also the Bragedini. 

The name of a Gentleman of Venice is esteemed a title 
of such eminent dignity and honour, that we shall reade 
of two mighty Kings that did very ambitiously sue to be 



invested with that title, and to be incorporated only by 
way of name into the Gentility of the citie, namely the 
King of Denmarke in the time of Duke Fuscarus about 
the yeare 1425, when he tooke Venice in his way towards 
Jerusalem, to see the holy Sepulchre : and Henry the third 
of that name King of Fraunce, in the time of Duke 
Mocenigus, Anno 1574. For they thought that the title 
of a Venetian Gentleman would be no small ornament 
and addition of grace to their royall dignity. Howbeit Frugal 
these Gentlemen doe not maintaine and support the title gentlemen. 
of their Gentility with a quarter of that noble state and 
magnificence as our English Noblemen and Gentlemen of 
the better sort doe. For they keepe no honourable hospi 
tality, nor gallant retinue of servants about them, but a [p. 278.] 
very frugall table, though they inhabite most beautifull 
Palaces, and are inriched with as ample meanes to keepe 
a brave port as some of our greatest English Earles. For 
I have heard that the worst of five hundred of the princi- 
pall Venetian Gentlemen is worth a million of duckats, 
which is almost two hundred and fifty thousand pound 
sterling, having in many places of Lombardy goodly 
revenues yearly paid them, besides the possession of many 
stately palaces. But I understand that the reason why 
they so confine themselves within the bounds of frugality, 
and avoyde that superfluity of expenses in housekeeping 
that we Englishmen doe use, is, because they are restrained 
by a certaine kinde of edict made by the Senate, that they 
shall not keepe a retinue beyond their limitation. 

It is a matter very worthy the consideration, to thinke Venice a 
how this noble citie hath like a pure Virgin and incon- v " & m at y- 
taminated mayde (in which sense I called her a mayden citie 
in the front of my description of her, as also we reade in 
the Scripture, 2 King. 19. 21. Jerusalem was called a 
Virgin, because from the first foundation thereof to the 
time that God honoured her with that title, when she was 
like to be assaulted by Sanecherib King of the Assyrians, 
she was never taken by the force of any forraine enemy) 
kept her virginity untouched these thousand two hundred 



Venice often an d twelve yeares (for so long it is since the foundation 
thereof) though Emperors, Kings, Princes and mighty 
Potentates, being allured with her glorious beauty, have 
attempted to deflowre her, every one receiving the 
repulse : a thing most wonderfull and strange. In which 
respect she hath beene ever priviledged above all other 
cities. For there is no principall citie of all Christendome 
but hath been both oppugned and expugned since her 
foundation : as Rome the Empresse and Queene of all 
the west partes of the world, hath been often sacked, as 

[p- 2 79 1 by Brennus, by Gensericus King of the Vandals, by Alari- 
cus, Vitiges, Totylas, Kings of the Gothes, Odoacer the 
Rugian, &c. and so every other notable citie both of Italy, 
Germany, France, Spain, England, Poland, &c. hath beene 
at some time or other conquered by the hostile force : onely 
Venice, thrise-fortunate and thrise-blessed Venice, as if 
she had beene founded by the very Gods themselves, and 
daily received some divine and sacred influence from the 
heaven for her safer protection, hath ever preserved her 
selfe intactam, illibatam, sartam tectam, free from all 
forraine invasions to this day ; though indeede she was 
once very dangerously assaulted by Pipin King of Italy, 
one of the sonnes of Charlemaine. 

The form of Seeing I have related unto thee so many notable things 
ment of this renowned City, as of her first foundation, situation, 
name, the division thereof, her goodly Temples, Palaces, 
Streets, Monasteries, Towers, Armouries, Monuments, 
and memorable Antiquities, &c. I thinke thou wilt expect 
this also from me, that I should discover unto thee her 
forme of governement, and the meanes wherewith shee 
both maintaineth her selfe in that glorious majesty, and 
also ruleth those goodly cities, townes, and Citadels that 
are subject to her dominion. If thou dost require this at 
my hands (as I beleeve thou wilt) I would have thee con 
sider that I am neither polititian, nor statist, but a private 
man, and therefore I often thought to my selfe when I was 
in Venice, that it would be a matter something impertinent 
to me to prie into their governement, observe their lawes, 



their matters of state, their customes, their courts of 
justice, their judicious proceedings, their distributions of 
offices, &c. seeing I should make but little use thereof 
upon my returne into my country. Or were it so that I 
had had a great desire to have informed my selfe with the 
knowledge of the principall particularities of their 
governement (which I must needes say had beene a most 
laudable and excellent thing, especially in such a City as 
hath the fame to be as well governed as any City upon the [p. 280.] 
face of the whole earth ever was, or at this day is) yet to 
attaine to an exact knowledge thereof in so short a space 
as I spent there, over and above these my poore observa 
tions which I have communicated unto thee, truely I 
confesse I was not able. Therefore for as much as thou 
mayest gather even by these my notes of Venice (which 
are more 1 am sure then every English man can shew thee 
out of sixe weekes aboade there) that 1 was not altogether 
idle when I lay in the City : I hope thou wilt deigne to 
pardon me, though I cannot answere thy expectation about 
the governement thereof, especially because I will promise 
thee (if God shall graciously prolong my life that I may 
once more see it, which I earnestly wish and hope for) that 
I will endevour to observe as much of their governement 
as may be lawfull for a stranger, and so tandem aliquando 
to impart the same unto thee with other observations of 
my future travels, which perhaps will not be altogether 
unworthy the reading. But because thou shalt not thinke 
that I am utterly ignorant of al matters touching their 
governement, I will give thee only a superficial touch, and 
no more. This City was first governed by Tribunes and 
Centurions for the space of three hundred yeares. But 
afterward because it was much infested by the Longo- 
bardes that inhabited Pavy, Milan, and other Cities not 
farre from them, they thought it meete to create a Duke -A Duke 
that should be the principall and supreme commander of created - 
the whole City, and to arme him with authority to muster 
up forces for their defence against any forraine invasion, if 
occasion should require. Also they decreed that the same 
c. c. 417 2 D 


Duke should continue in his Ducall dignity during his 
life, which decree hath ever since beene in force to this 
day. Their first Dukes name was Panluccius Anafectus, 
whom they chose about the yeare seven hundred, assign 
ing him first the Towne of Heraclea, next Malomocco, 

[p. 281.] and afterward the Rialto (where the Dukes made their 
habitation for the space of many yeares till the Palace was 
built) for the place of his residence. Since which time for 
the space of nine hundred yeares they have been continu 
ally ruled by Dukes ; the number of all which have beene 
fourescore and eleven with their present Duke Leonardus 

The Duke s Donatus. I could tell thee some notable ceremonies con 
cerning the election of their Duke, but those I will differ 
till my next observations of this City. Only I will impart 
one unto thee which is this. As soone as the Duke is 
proclaimed, he is carryed about St. Marks place in a chaire 
upon certayne mens shoulders that are appointed for the 
same purpose, and all the while he flings money about the 
street for the poore to gather up. The Duke is not a 
sovereigne Prince, to say sic volo, sic jubeo ; but his 
authority is so curbed & restrained, that without the con 
sent of the Councels he can neither establish nor abrogate 
a law, nor doe any other matter whatsoever that belonges 
to a Prince. So that the governement of this City is a 
compounded forme of state, contayning in it an Idea of 
the three principall governements of the auncient Athe 
nians and Romans, namely the Moiiarchicall, the Oligar- 
chicall, and Democraticall. The Duke sitteth at the sterne 
of the commonweale with glorious ornaments beseeming 
his place and dignity, adorned with a Diademe and other 
ensignes of Principality, so that he seemeth to be a kinde 
of Monarch ; yet there is that limitation of his power that 
without the approbation of the Senate he cannot doe any 
thing that carryeth a marke of Soveraignity. Next is the 

The Council Councell of ten commonly called Consilio di dieci, which 
were first instituted by way of imitation of the ancient 
Roman Decemviri. These are as it were the maine 
sinewes and strength of the whole Venetian Empire. For 



they are the principall Lordes of the state that manage the 
whole governement thereof, both by sea and land. This 
Councell presenteth unto thee a singular forme of an Oli 
garchy or Aristocratic. The last is the great Councell 
which consisteth of a thousand and sixe hundred Gentle 
men, who are likewise other subordinate members of the 
State, and are a notable patterne of a Democratie. Al the 
Magistrates of what degree soever, are chosen by lots after 
an unusuall and strange manner. For there are three pots 
placed upon the Dukes Tribunall seate, whereof two that 
stand at both the endes of the seate containe a great 
multitude of silver balles and a few golden ; the third 
which standeth in the middle, silver and golden also : but 
lesse then the other. Now all the officers are chosen 
according as their lots doe fall upon them, by meanes of 
these balles, which is disposed after such an admirable fine 
manner, as the like kinde of election was never heard of 
before in any governement or common-weale of the whole 
world. The place of this election is the great Councell 
hall, into the which at the election time a stranger shal be 
very hardly admitted, but by some extraordinary favour. 
One of the most honorable Magistrates of the whole city 
is the Procurator of S. Marke, who enjoyeth his dignity 
not for a yeare only as the Roman Consul did : but during 
his life, as the Duke doth. Heretofore there was but one 
in the whole city that bare that office, but afterwards there 
were sixe more adjoyned unto him as his copartners, being 
chosen out of the sixe tribes of the City : but there are of 
them at this day no less then foure and twenty. This 
office is of so high esteeme in Venice, that there is scarce 
any Duke chosen which hath not beene first Procurator of 
St. Marke. I have now given thee a little tast of the 
forme of the Cities governement. I will also somewhat 
compendiously touch that of the land Cities that are sub 
ject to them. Every land City hath foure principal 
Magistrates assigned to it, whereof the chiefest is the 
Praetor alias the Podesta, who doth sit upon matters of life 
and death, and pronounceth the definitive sentence of 


[p. 282.] 

The great 

The Pro 
curator of S. 



[p. 283.] condemnation upon the offenders. The second is the 
Praefectus, otherwise called the Capitano, that is, the 
general Captaine over all their forces both in the City, and 
abroad in the country, not farre from the City. These two 
Magistrates are the principall to whom all the other inferior 
officers are subject. The third is the Treasurer, who 
receiveth the publique money, payeth it to the Souldiers, 
and registreth all both receipts and expenses. But he is 
so subject to the authority of the Praefectus, that he can 
do nothing without him. The fourth and the last is the 
Lieutenant of the Castle. His office is to looke to the 
Souldiers that are in garrison, and to take charge of the 
weapons, artillery, and all kinde of munition belonging to 
the same. He likewise is as farre forth subject to the 
Praefectus as the Treasurer. If they have any warres by 
land, they make a stranger the General of their army, and 
never one of their owne Gentlemen. Of those forraine 
Captaines two above the rest have beene very renowned 
and fortunate warriours, whose memory is much celebrated 
amongst the Venetians, namely Gattamelita of Narnia, of 
whom I have spoken in my Treatise of Padua, and Bar- 
thelmew Coleon of Bergomo, unto whom there is an 
honorable equestriall statue erected in a publique place of 
this City, as I have before mentioned. 

The Dominion I will also give thee a little intimation of the principal 

of Venice. places of their Dominion both by sea and land : In the 
territory of Lombardy they have seven stately Cities, in 
five whereof I my selfe have beene, and have already 
described one of them, and so wil hereafter the other 
foure. The names of them are these : Padua, Vicenza, 
Verona, Brixia, Bergomo, Crema, Tarvisium commonly 
called Trevisa, besides many other inferiour Townes and 
Castles. Amongst the rest that of Palma in Forum Julii 
is a most inexpugnable fortresse, and contrived with such a 
rare round forme of building, consisting of two degrees 
of workemanship, whereof each containeth nine severall 

[p. 284.] and distinct bulwarks, that I have heard there is not the 
like to be found in all Christendome. This was built in 



the yeare 1593, when Pascalis Ciconia was Duke. In 
Sclavonia which was heretofore called Illyricum, they have 
the two Cities of Zara and Zebenico : in Istria and 
Dalmatia, goodly Cities also. In the Sea they have the 
Island of Creta, now called Candia, standing in the 
Mediterranean Sea ; And of Corcyra in the Ionian Sea, 
now called Corfu. Likewise they were for many yeares 
since Lords of Constantinople before the Turks tooke 
possession thereof. And for the space of many yeares 
they possessed the noble island of Cyprus, situate also in 
the Mediterran Sea. But Munster in the second booke of 
his Cosmographie writeth that they got it by very lewd 
and indirect meanes, unto whom I will referre thee for the 
history, because it is something long for me to relate unto 
thee. Therefore the example of the Venetians doth very 
well verifie the old speech of Salust, male parta male dila- 
buntur. For they were expelled againe out of it by the 
Turkes An. 1571. At what time those barbarous enemies 
of the Christian name shewed most execrable cruelty upon 
them in the Capitall city of the island called Famagusta 
heretofore Salamis, that valiant Venetian Gentleman 
Antonius Bragedinus (whose Epitaph I have before written 
in my description of the Church of St. John and Paul) 
being then flea d alive amongst them. All these ample 
territories both by sea and land doe yeeld them such an 
exceeding great revenue by the yeare, as doth amount to A S reat 
foure millions (as I have heard) of Duckats. Which is rev 
very neare a million of our English pounds. A most 
stupendious summe of money, if it were possible for a 
man to see it altogether in the Venetian nine penny peeces 
called livers. The greatest part of this money is raised by 
extreme exactions and impositions that they lay upon their 
subjects, but especially for wine and salt. Thus have I as 
briefly as I can discovered unto thee some small part of [p. 285.] 
their governement both in the city of Venice, and the other 
cities of their Signiory ; and also related some principall 
particulars of their famous Empire both by sea and land, 
together with the revenues thereof. 



The Venetian It will not be amisse to speake something also of the 
ioney. money of Venice, though I have not done the like of any 

other country besides. And the rather I am induced to 
mention it, because I will take occasion to touch one thing 
in this discourse of their coines, that perhaps may be a little 
beneficiall unto some that intend hereafter to travell to 
Venice. There are sundry coines both of gold & silver 
allowed in the city of Venice, besides their owne stampe ; 
as the French crownes : the single and double duckats 
which are the Emperors coine ; single and double pistolets 
of Spaine : The Hungarian gold which they call Hungars : 
The Popes gold : The Dutch dollars, &c. But I saw none 
of our English there : or if there be any, there is losse by 
it whether it be gold or silver. Most of their owne coines 

One gold coin, that I saw were these. In gold but one, which is their 
chiquiney : This piece doth much vary in the value. For 
sometimes it is high, sometimes low. When I was there, 
a chiquiney was worth eleven livers and twelve sols. 
Which countervailed eight shillings and eight pence half 
penny of our money. W r ith us in England it is seldome 

Silver coins, worth above seven shillings. Of their silver coines they 
have these two pieces only. The greatest is the ducka- 
toone, which containeth eight livers, that is, sixe shillings. 
This piece hath in one side the effigies of the Duke of 
Venice and the Patriarch, holding a staffe between them 
stamped thereon, with the Dukes name. And in the 
other, the figure of St. Justina a chast Patavine virgin, of 
whom I have before spoken in my tract of Padua. And 
in the same side is written this inscription, Memor ero tui 
Justina Virgo. The occasion of which inscription I have 
signified in my notes of Padua. The other is a double 

[p. 286.] liver which is eighteene pence. Also they have sixe coines 

Coins of brass mO re which are partly brasse and partly tinne. First the 
liver which is nine pence : Then the halfe liver foure pence 
halfe penny, both these are brasse. The tinne coynes are 
these foure ; a piece of four gazets, which is about three 
pence and three farthings. A gazet : this is almost a 
penny : whereof ten doe make a liver, that is nine pence ; 


and tin. 


a sol : this is almost a halfe penny. For twenty of them 
doe make a liver. The last and least is the betsa, which is 
halfe a sol ; that is almost a farthing. Now whereas the 
Venetian duckat is much spoken of, you must consider 
that this word duckat doth not signifie any one certaine 
coyne. But many severall pieces doe concurre to make 
one duckat, namely sixe livers and two gazets, which doe 
countervaile foure shillings and eight pence of our money. 
So that a duckat is sometimes more, sometimes lesse. The 
chiquiney that I first named of the Venetian coynes, and 
these other eight, partly silver, partly brasse, and partly 
tinne, are the currantest money of all both in Venice it 
selfe, and in the whole Venetian Signiory. But that which 
is most principally current above all the rest, is the liver. 
Which is therefore called in Venice moneta de banco, that 
is, the money of the exchange. Therefore I would Coun- Go0 ^ cou sel 
sell thee whatsoever thou art that intendest to travell into 
Italy, and to returne thy money in England by bill of 
exchange that thou maiest receive it againe in Venice ; I 
would counsell thee (I say) so to compound with thy mer 
chant, that thou maiest be paide all thy money in the 
exchange coyne, which is this brasse peece called the Liver. 
For otherwise thou wilt incurre an inconvenience by 
receiving it in peeces of gold of sundry coines, according 
to the pleasure of the Merchant that payeth thee in Venice. 
Because if thou shouldest happen to make thy aboade in 
Venice for some pretty long space to thy great charge, 
whensoever thou shalt have occasion to buy a litle com- 
moditie of some small valew, thou wilt sustaine losse by [p- 287.] 
thy gold, but not by thy Livers. For every man will take 
thy Livers without any losse to thee, but none thy gold 
without some advantage to themselves, and damage to 
thee, except thou dost buy a commoditie of some valew. 
For thou shalt not find that kindnesse in Venice to have 
thy gold changed gratis into small currant peeces of the 

citie. as in England. Also there is another great incon- ,. , 

. & . . -111 Light gold ft 

vemence in receiving returned money in gold, because banished CM - 

sometimes all light gold is bandited ; that is, banished out of the city. 



of the Citie ; a tricke of state used often amongst the 
Venetians, by which they do very much inrich their trea 
sure, and a thing that hapned when I was there, to my 
great prejudice. If after this banditing of the light gold 
(which is done by a solemne Proclamation at Saint Markes 
place and the Rialto) all thy stocke of money that thou hast 
in Venice, doth consist of diffrent peeces of gold, and the 
same light, thou wilt be much damnified and driven to 
these extremes : either to forfeite thy light peeces to the 
state, and that ipso facto, whensoever thou dost offer them 
abroad in the citie for any thing thou wouldest buy ; or 
to exchange them for weighty gold with the f bankers or 
money-changers of S. Marks, before thou canst put them 
away ; and that will redound to thy damage, for they will 
bee well paide for the exchange. These inconveniences I 
have tasted my selfe, only for taking light gold of my 
Merchant in steed of Liver money : so that I speake by 
mine owne experience. Therefore I end this matter 
touching their money with counselling thee whatsoever 
thou art that meanest to returne money out of England 
for Venice, to receive thy whole summe in Livers. 

Great variety There is a great variety of Wines in Venice, but 
nothing so much as in Rome, Naples, Milan, Florence, and 
other Italian cities, the greater part of them beeing brought 
thither from the territories of Padua : But they are much 

[p. 288.] dearer here then in the other cities of Italy, as well those 
that are in the Signiorie, as those without the same. For 
the Venetians lay such an extreme impost upon them, that 
they as much oppresse their subjects therewith, as the 
states of the Netherlands doe those under their dominion 
with their excize : howbeit they are not altogether so dear, 
but that a moderate and competent drinker may buy as 
much of their meaner red Wine in one of their Magazines, 
that is, cellars, for his sol, which is a little lesse then our 
halfe penny, as will serve for a reasonable draught. Some 
of these wines are singular good, as their Liatico, which is 

f These are called in Greeke rpairf^irai, in Latin Collybistae and 



a very cordiall and generose liquor : their Romania, their 
Muscadine, and their Lagryme di Christo ; which is so 
toothsome and delectable to the taste, that a certaine 
stranger being newly come to the citie, and tasting of this 
pleasant wine, was so affected therewith, that I heard he 
uttered this speech out of a passionate humour : O Domine 
Domine, cur non kchrymasti in regionibus nostris? that 
is, O Lord O Lord, why hast thou not distilled these kinde 
of teares into our countries ? These wines are alwayes The wine 
brought up into the roome wherein the ghests doe make & 
their meale, in certaine great glasses called Ingistera es that 
are commonly used in all those Cities of Italy that I 
surveied in my journey. Out of which glasse the servants 
that attend at table, doe use to poure their wine into lesser 
glasses, and so to deliver them to the ghests. This word 
Ingistera I therefore name, because the etymologic of it is 
very pretty : for it called Ingistera quasi ey yacrrepa (as my 
learned friend that famous traveller and elegant linguist 
Master Hugh Holland hath lately told me) that is, a thing 
formed in the fashion of a belly, the Greek word yacmip 
signifying a belly : for the middle part of it doth truly 
represent the shape of a bellie. 

That day that I came forth of Venice I observed a thing 
which did even tickle my senses with great joy and com 
fort ; for on the right hand of the second walke of Saint [p- 289.] 
Markes place, as you goe betwixt the clocke and the two 
great pillars by the sea side, even in the outward wall of 
the Dukes Pallace, and within that faire walke that is 
supported with pillars, I saw the pictures of certaine 
famous Kings, and other great personages, and our King King James 
James his picture in the very midst of them, as being the 
worthiest person of them al. The pictures were these : 
One of the present King of Spaine, Philip the second : 
One of the King of France, Henry the fourth : One of 
the last Duke of Venice, Marino Grimanno : and one of 
a certaine noble woman whose name no body could tell me. 
And in the very middle our Kings picture, which I think 
was placed there not without great consideration ; for I 



beleeve they remembred the old speech when they hanged 
up his picture : In medio consistit virtus. Againe the 
same day I sawe his picture very gallantly advanced in 
another place of the citie, even at the Rialto bridge, with 
Queene Anne and Prince Henry on one side of him, and 
the King of France on the other ; a thing that ministred 
singular contentment unto me. 

Having now so amply declared unto thee most of the 
principall things of this thrise-renowned and illustrious 
citie, I will briefly by way of an Epitome mention most of 
the other particulars thereof, and so finally shut up this 

An Epitome narration : There are reported to be in Venice and the 
circumjacent f islands two hundred Churches in which 
are one hundred forty three paire of Organs, fifty foure 
Monasteries, twenty sixe Nunneries, fifty sixe Tribunals 
or places of judgement, seventeene Hospitals, sixe Com 
panies or Fraternities, whereof I have before spoken ; one 
hundred sixty five marble statues of worthy personages, 
partly equestriall, partly pedestriall, which are erected in 
sundry places of the citie, to the honour of those that 
eyther at home have prudently administred the Common- 
weale, or abroad valiantly fought for the same. Likewise 

[p. 290.] of brasse there are twenty three, whereof one is that of 
Bartholomew Coleon before mentioned. Also there are 
twentie seven publique clocks, ten brasen gates, a hundred 
and fourteene Towers for bels to hang in, ten brasen 
horses, one hundred fifty five wells for the common use of 
the citizens, one hundred eighty five most delectable 
gardens, ten thousand Gondolaes, foure hundred and fifty 
bridges partly stony, partly timber, one hundred and 
twenty Palaces, whereof one hundred are very worthy of 

Five hundred that name, one hundred seventy foure courts : and the totall 

thousand sou s, ^^T^^ o f SO ules living in the citie and about the same is 
thought to be about five hundred thousand, something 
more or lesse. For sometimes there is a catalogue made 
of all the persons in the citie of what sexe or age soever 

f Which are in number twenty five. 


they be ; as we may reade there was heretofore in Rome 
in the time of Augustus Caesar : and at the last view there 
were found in the whole city as many as I have before 

Thus have I related unto thee as many notable matters 
of this noble citie, as either I could see with mine eyes, or 
heare from the report of credible and worthy persons, or 
derive from the monuments of learned and authenticke 
writers that I found in the citie ; hoping that divers large 
circumstances which I have inserted into this history, will 
not be unpleasant unto thee, because many of them doe 
tend to the better illustration of some things, whose glory 
would have beene even eclipsed if I had not inlarged the 
same with these amplifications ; and so at length I finish 
the treatise of this incomparable city, this most beautifull 
Queene, this untainted virgine, this Paradise, this Tempe, 
this rich Diademe and most flourishing garland of Chris- 
tendome : of which the inhabitants may as proudly vaunt, Venue the gem 
as I have reade the Persians have done of their Ormus,who f the world - 
say that if the world were a ring, then should Ormus be 
the gem me thereof : the same (I say) may the Venetians 
speake of their citie, and much more truely. The sight 
whereof hath yeelded unto me such infinite and unspeak- [p. 291.] 
able contentment (I must needes confesse) that even as 
Albertus Marquesse of Guasto said (as I have before 
spoken) were he put to his choice to be Lord of foure of 
the fairest cities of Italy, or the Arsenall of Venice, he 
would prefer the Arsenall : In like maner I say, that had 
there bin an offer made unto me before I took my journey 
to Venice, eyther that foure of the richest manners of 
Somerset-shire (wherein I was borne) should be gratis 
bestowed upon me if I never saw Venice, or neither of 
them if I should see it ; although certainly those mannors 
would do me much more good in respect of a state of 
livelyhood to live in the world, then the sight of Venice : 
yet notwithstanding I will ever say while I live, that the 
sight of Venice and her resplendent beauty, antiquities, 
and monuments, hath by many degrees more contented 



my minde, and satisfied my desires, then those foure Lord- 
shippes could possibly have done. 

Thus much of the glorious citie of Venice.