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!iMpiiSiHif!!H:iH)?i;:;:!^ 


CORNELL 

UNIVERSITY 

LIBRARY 


3  1924  103  623  660 


The  original  of  tliis  book  is  in 
tine  Cornell  University  Library. 

There  are  no  known  copyright  restrictions  in 
the  United  States  on  the  use  of  the  text. 


http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924103623660 


rtti0{)  JSibliDgtapfier. 


i^Sl 


SIR   EGERTON  DRYDGES,  K.J. 


JOSEPH  HASLEWOJ I). 


VOLUME  H. 


m 


DON: 

.    37,   ST.  James's   sTiii;F,T, 

OUET,   FLEET    STKEnT. 


m 


mm 


Preface. 


If  tustom  requires  a  Preface  to  this  new  volume,  after 
what  have  preceded  it  as  well  in  the  CJensuraLiterakiA 
as  in  the  former  one  of  the  present  undertaking,  it  can 
hardly  be  expected  that  we  should  Still  enforce  at  much 
length  the  use  of  Bibliographical  knovi^ledge.  The  growing 
fashion  of  this  pursuit  has  excited  some  obloquy,  origi- 
iiating  perhaps  raiher  from  a  superficial  than  profound  view 
of  its  tendency.  It  is  so  easy  to  speak  with  scorn  of  a 
skill  in  title-pages,  and  all  the  numerous  haters  of  books  are 
so  reddy  and  so  happy  to  Join  in  the  contempt,  that  it  is 
caught  withoiit  examination,  and  repeated  with  a  senseless 
triumphs 

To  this  triumph  Ignorance  is  perfectly  welcome  •  she 
may,  if  she  chooses,  glory  in  her  own  blindness  :  for  my 
part,  I  shall  leave  her  to  herself. 

It  is  clearly  for  the  interests  of  learning,  that  a  due  at^ 
tention  should  be  raised  to  all  its  curiosities.  The  value  of 
literary  history  has  been  duly  appreciated  by  all  men  of  cul- 
tivated minds :  and  it  cannot  well  be  questioned,  that  t,he 
present  zeal  for  the  possession  of  old  books  tends  to  en- 
courage and  advance  it. 

Much  has  been  said,  and  many  strange  lamentations 
have  been  uttered  about  the  prices  of  the  Roxburghe  Library. 
It  is  the  individual  opinion  of  the  present  writer  that  they 
form  a   suhgect  of  exultation,  rather  than  of  regret.'      A 

a  mor«r 


ore  effectual  impulse  to  the  search  and  revival  of  thes( 
sasures  could  not  have  been  given  !  Some  selfish  ColleC' 
r,  who  wished  for  his  own  private  ends  to  obtain  th< 
tides  he  wanted  without  rivalry,  may  declaim  at  the  follj 
id  extravagance  of  that  sale.  But  hence  the  attention  wil. 
;  drawn  to  many  a  rare  gem^  which,  while  it  was  cheap 
ould  have  called  forth  no  interest.  I  care  not,  if  it  be  onlj 
him  and  fashion  that  direct  these  things :  the  whim  anC 
shion  are  directed  to  VCTy  good  ends. 

How  can  a  young  nobleman  of  illusliious  rank,  an^ 
incely  fortune,  begin  life  more  innocently,  more  gene^ 
usly,  tiay  more  virtuously,  than  by  entering  into  these 
.ralries?  And  in  whose  hands  is  there  a  probability  that 
ese  treasures  will  be  more  safe  or  more  accessible? 
As  to  Bibliography,  it  is  so  idle  to  suppose  that  the  books 
the  present  day  only  are  wanting,  and  that  all  are  in  use 
:iich  are  worthy  of  being  used,  that  most  liberal  inquirers, 
iwever  book-learned,  will  be  astonished  and  shocked  on 
aking  into  any  copious  and  learned  catalogues  of  the  last 
id  precedent  centuries,  more  especially  the  foreign,  to  ob- 
rve  how  much  has  been  done  in  the  most  laborious  and 
ofound  manner,  of  which  they  had  not  even  a  concep- 
)n !  * 

Whatever  may  be  said.  Bibliography,  so  far  from  being 
hansted,  is  still  in  a  very  infant  state  with  us.  Much  re- 
ains  to  be  known  of  the  early  printed  books  j  and  even  the 
ixtons  have  not  yet  been  perfectly  investigated.  Though 
tson  had  such  confidence  in  bis  own  researches,  that  he 
>ldly  pronounced  the  mention  of  a  work,  of  which  hehim- 
If  could  not  otherwise  ascertain  ihe  existence,  to  be  a 

•  T»k«  for  instance  B>Mo*Ate«  H«»ria»«,  tegdi  Bu.  16B»,  latno. 

forgery ; 


fargetf,  yet  time  ha?  since  prpduceisl  sgveral  of  which  he 
tad  never  even  heard. 

It  is  among  the  advantages  of  the  prpgressipji  of  suck  a 
work  as  this,  that 


-vires  acquirit  eundo. 


It  gradually  unlocks  the  collections,  and  draws  forth  the 
assistance,  of  those  who  have  been  engaged  in  similar  pur- 
suits. How  important,  nay  how  necessary  such  assistance 
is,  scarce  any  one  will'be  so  confident  in  his  own  strength 
as  to  deny  !  Conference  and  comparison  are  peculiarly  requi* 
site  in  these  inquiries:  and  the  result  of  much  casual  in- 
formation, which  would  otherwise  have  perished  with  the 
occasion,  is  thus  preserved  and  embodied  I 

■  Whether  from  the  oblivion  into  which  they  had  formerly 
fallen,  or  the  very  high  prices  which  they  have  now  at- 
tained, black-letter  books  have  for  perhaps  a  century  been 
little  accessible  to  the  generality  of  the  literati  I    But  that  a 
large  portion  of  them  are  worthy  of  attention,  and  that  of 
many  the  perusal  is  positively  necessary  to  the  investigations 
which  occupy  the  various  labours  of  the  -learned,  1  shall 
scorn  to  endeavour  to  prove;  but  take  as  an  admitted  truth. 
Hence  then  the  obvious  use,  of  the  contents  of  the  BxB- 
LiOGRAPHER  will  follow!  Setting  aside  the  mere,  selfish 
Collector  whose  whole  view  is  the  possession  of  an  ex,clu- 
sive  treasure,  all  who  seek  books  for  their  legitimate  pur- 
poses must  be  sensible  of  esseiltial  aid  from  these  notices 
and  abstracts,  when  the  originals  are  not  to  be  procured: 
while  the  entire  reprints  of  I'he  Paradise  of  Dainty  De- 
vices and  The  England's  Helicon  add  most  valuable  deside- 
rata to  their  poetical  libraries. 

Of  how  much  remains  to  be  done  every  day's  experience 

continues 


VI 

continues  to  enlarge  the  proof;  and  so  far  are  the  Editors 
frqm  having  exhausted  their  materials,  that  they  are  rather 
distracted  by  abundance.  Were  they  inclined  to  boast, 
they  would  boast  of  the  proud  aid  they  have  derived  from 
Oxford,  the  illustrious  scene  of  the  studies  of  Thomas  War- 
ton;  where  the  stores  of  the  Bodleian  and  the  Ashraole  rct- 
main  yet  rich  in  the  promise  of  plentiful  harvests. 

Does  the  Reader  require  more?  Does  he  ask  any  further 
excitement  to  these  investigations  ?>  Will  he  listen  to  somp 
superficial,  idle,  and  pert  exclaimer,  that  these  are  but  "dull 
"  ar^d  obsolete  antiquarian  scraps  not  worth  the  print  and 
"  paper  they  consume!"  Let  him  rather  persevere,  and 
every  day  will  open  some  interest  to  him,  which  at  first  es- 
caped his  attention.  His  ideas  will  expand;  he  will  not 
think  all  wisdom,  all  learning,  ^nd  all  eloquence  centered  in 
his  cotemporaries  ;  Chaucer,  Spenser,  Shakespeare,  and  Mil- 
ton ;  More,  and  Hooker,  and  Bacon,  will  have  new  charnxs 
for  him;  and  he  will  see  before  him  matters  of  inexr 
haustible  investigation,  and  themes  for  works  which  ages 
pannqt  fill  up  ! 


Aug.  34,  1812, 


DIGESTED  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS, 

ARRANGED    CHRONOLOalCAI.l.Y. 

The  articles  having  this  mark  f  prefixed  may  be  found  in  the  notes. 


POETRY. 

1.  Chaucer's  Prophecy,  MS aoo 

2.  The  tieatife  of  the  Horfe,  the  Sheep,  and  the  Goife,  printed  by  VV.  de 

Wdrde..... V...... ..,  I^o 

3.  The  Palice  of  Honour,  by  Gawen  Douglas,  printed  by  Copland,  n.  d..  420 
4..  Funerals  of  King  Edward  the  sixth,  by  W.  Baldwin,  1560 97 

5.  Hiftory  of  Romsus  and  Juliet,  by  Arthur  Broke,  1^62 iij 

6.  A  Poefie  in  Form  of  a  Vilion,  by  I.  H.  1563  . ,  J ^ 349 

7.  The  Pleafan.t  fable  of  Herraaphroditus  and  Salmacis,  by  T.  Peend, 

Gent.  1565 344 

8.  The  Hiftory  of  John  LorJ  Mandozze,  by  T.  De  la  Peend,  1565..  523 — 587 

9.  The  Hiftory  of  Thefeus  and  .\riadne,  by  Thomas  Underdown,  1566.  ...^■:4 

10.  The  Eyghth  Tragedy  of  Seneca,  by  John  Studley,  1566^ K  372 

11.  The  Ship  of  Safeguard,  by  G.  B,  1569. '. ,.,  618 

12.  Commemoration  of  Edmond  Bjnner,  1  569 ,  j 287 

13.  Recantation  of  Pafquin  of  Rome,  1570 288 

14.  Spare  your  Good.     Imprinted  by  Kytfdn,  n.  d. 370 

15.  Mtrry  Jeft  of  Dan  Hew,  Monk  of  Leicefter,  printed  by  John  Allde, 

"•&. S93 

16.  A  Hive  full  of  Honey,  by  William  Hiinnis,  1578 , 647 

17.  Banquet  of  Daintie  Conceits,  by  Anthony  Muriday,  1588. 337 

18.  f  Sir  Martin  Mar  Pejple,  by  John  Davies,  1590 247 

19;  Cordial  for  a  Sick  Confcience,  by  H.  Aires,  1 593 .' 283 

20.  Pan  his  Pipe,  by  Francis  Sabic,  1595 ' 32 

21.  Sir  F.  Drake,  his  honorable  Life's  Commendation,  by  C.  FItzgefFrey,' 

1396 iio 

22.  IVIadrigals,  by  Thomas  Morley,  1598, 652 

23.  Englifli  Madrigals,  by  John  Farmer,  1599.' ' 427 

24.  Madrigals,  by  John  Beniiett,  1399 4^^ 

23.  The  book  in  nietie  of  Robin  Confcience,  printed  by  Ed.  Allde,  n.  d.. .  547 

26.  Pjfquil's  Pafi  and  psfieth  not,  by  N.  Breton,  1600 232 

27.  Caroli  Fitzgeofridl  Affaniae  !  five  Epigrammatum  libri  tres,   1601...  119 

28.  Witt's  Pllgrin^age,  by  John  Davips,  n  d.. . . ; ; . .  247 

29.  The  Moufe  Trap,  by  H.  P.  1606 537 

30.  f  Queen  Elizabeth's  Tears,  by  Chris.  Leuer,  1607 i57 

31.  Scoui-ge  of  Folly,  by 'John  Davies,  n.  d 256 

32.  The  Knave  of  Ciubs,  by  Samuel  Rowlands,  i6ii 103 

33.  The  Knave  of  Heai-ts,  by  Samuel  Rowlands,  1612 103 

34.  Madrigals  and  Paftorals,  by  F.  Pilkington,  1612 138 

3;.  Madrigals  by  Henry  Lichfield,  161 3 , 39 

36.  Seven  Sobs  of  a  Sorrowful  Soul,  by  W.  Hunnis,  1613 .  gt 

37.  The  Melancholy  Knight,  by  Samuel  Rowlands,  1613 530 

38.  Wit's  Bedlam,  by  John  Davies,  1617 262 

39.  The  Dead  Man's  Song.     Printed  by  Coles 136 

40.  The  Pilgrim's  farewell  to  Scotland,  by  W.  Lithgow,  1618 141 

41.  Certain  Elegies,  done  by  fundry  excellent  Wils,  1630  .- •  ■  •  121 

42.  New 


!.  New  Epigrams,  by  Jof.  Martyn,  ifii i. . , *■ 

].  Madrigals  and  Paftorals,  by  T.  Pilkingtoni  1624. . ; •, '*' 

L.  f  Elegy  on  Sir  A.  Chichefter,  by  Al.  Spicet,  162^ *31 

;.  Funeiall  Poem  on  Sir  A.  Chichefter,  by  C.  Brooke,  MS.  i6i$ Hi 

i.  The  Young  Gallant's  Whirligig,  by  F.  Lenton,  16*9 •  •  S3\ 

1.  La  Dajice  Machabre;    or.  Death's  Duell,   by    W.  Coleman,  b.  d. 

[about  1630] ■ > • 4^ 

L  Grave  Chamber  Mufick,  by  Martin  Peerfon;  1630 3^ 

).  Madrigals  and  Airs,  by  W.  Porter,'  1  63  2 3  * 

).  Robin  Cdnfcience,  or  Cor.fcionable  Robin,  by  Martin  Parker.  1635-  . .  54 

:.  Fame's  Roule:  by  Mrs.  Mary  Fage,   1637 ■ 57 

I.  Poems  occafioned  by  a  Melancholy  Vjfion,  by  Humphry  Mill,  1639  ■•  4P| 

1.  A  Night's  Search,  by  H.  Mill,  1640 3^' 

1.  The  Gulhing  tears  of  Godly  Sorrow,  by  W.  Lithgow,  1640 14! 

;.  f  Differing  Worfhips  or  the  Odds  between  forae  Knights  fervice  and 

God's;  or  Tom  Naih  his  Ghoft  newly  roufed,  by  John  Taylor, 

1 640 4rH 

I.  Verfes  attributed  to  the  Earl  of  Strafford,  1641 18; 

.  The  jPoets'  Blind  man's  bough ;  or  Have  among  you  my  blind  Hai-psrs, 

by  Martin  Parker,   1 641 43 1 

•  t  The  Irifli  Footman's  Poetry  j  or,  George  the  Runner  againfl  Henry 

the  Walker,  in  defence  of  John  the  Swimmer,  1 641 43; 

.  -j-  Secunda  vox  populi ;  or  the  Commons'  Gratitude,  by  William  Cart- 
wright,  1641 , 431 

.  Elegies  celebrating  the  Memoj-y  of  Sir  Horatio  Vera,   1642 57< 

.  The  Night's  Search,  Second  Part  of,  by  H.  Mill,  1646 33J 

.  Choice  Pfalms,  by  H.  and  W.  Lawes,  1 648 6c 

.  The  Secrets  of  Ang  ing,  by  John  Dennys,  1652 46; 

.  KO£MOBPE<!>IA;  or,  the  Infancy  of  the  World,  by  Nicholas  Billingf- 

ley,  1658 64: 

,  Epigrams  by  Thomas  Peck,   16^9. 31c 

,  De  Faflis  Anglicis,  live  Calendarium  Sacrum  :  the  Holy  Calendar  by 

Nath.  Eaton,  1661 4-) 

,  Folly  in  Print,  T667 ..  jjj 

,  Verfes  by  Sir  Robert  Maitland «jj 

BOMANCES. 

,  A  Petite  Pallace  of  Pettie  His  Pleafure.     Printed  by  R.  W.  u.  d 39; 

Philotimus.    The  War  betwixt  Nature   and  Fortune.    By  Bryan  Mel- 

bancke,  1583 ^^j 

,  Palefiiiia,  by  Mr.  R..  1600 _  _  ^q, 

Hiftory  of  Albion's  Queen,  .1601 ,„^ 

,  The  Hiftory  of  Amadis  de'GauU,  by  Anthony  Munday,  16  is .gj 

Hiftory  of  Titana  and  Tiefeus,.by  W.  Bstcie,  16-56 .  ^ 

,  Story  of  K.  Lear,  from  Caxton's  Chtonitle,  1480 ,  ,-8 

MISCELLANEOUS. 
Sermon  by  John  .41cbCk,  B.  of  Ely.  Printed  by  W.  de  Worde,  n.  d. 

.  Julyan  Notary's,  fecond edition  of  Caxton's  Chrsnicles,  i^i^ 

.  Of  the  Knowledge  which  makes  a  Wife  Man,  by  Sir  T.  Elliot,  1 5  3 ,. . 

79.  Original 


CONTENTS.  it 

79.  Original  and  Spring  of  all  Se6b,  I  j}7 ,,.f  .,,,f.. ,,,,  307 

80,  Parable  of  the  Wicked  Maminp(i«  by  TyaM,.tiii , 243 

li.  Bellenden's  Hiftojy  of  Scotland, .  1541 634 

8z.  Counfails  of  Saint  Ifidore,  1 543 , , .  447 

(3.  Belljim  Erafmi,  1J43  > iij 

S4.  The  rates  of. the  Cuftom  Houfe  botb  ioward  and.  outward,  1545- 397-^-503 

15.  Counsel  of  Trent,  by  John  Holibuib,  IJ48 294 

16.  Confellion  of  Faith,  n.d , ,  ^g^ 

17.  -|-  Supplication  of  the  poor  Cojnmons,  i  J46 29  j 

18.  TheTurk's.Chcaiiicle,h;Peter  Afliton,  1J46. 93 

ig.  Dodrinal  of  Princes,  by  Sir  T.  Elliot,  n.  d zzj 

90.  Defence  of  Goad  Women,  ]>y  Sir  T.  Ellioti  i  J4J « •  •  •  ^  ■.  ZJ  f 

9 1 .  Petition  of  the  Poor  Commons,  by  R.  .Crowley,  n.  d. . , 29) 

92.  The  Complaint  of  Roderick  Mors.  n.  d ., 17ft 

93.  The  Bible  in  Englifli,  I  j49 11 

94.  The  Treafury  of  Health,  by  Humphry  Lloyde,  n.  d 40 

9;.  Sermon,  by  Thomas  Leaver,  ijjo 153 

96.  Prayer  faid  in  the  King's  Chaple,  i  ^^3 loi 

97.  Manner  and  Form  how  to  keep  a  Debtor  and  Creditor  account,  by  Jamej 

Peele,  ISS3 605 

95.  The  Fardleof  Facions,  by  W.  Watreman,  ijjj , 4Z4 

99.  Cei'tain  godly  and  devout  Prayers,. by  Thomas  Paynell,  I  jjS. 41  z 

1 00.  A£l«  of  the  realm  of  Scotlande,  1566 ^ii 

ioi.  A  Caveat  for  Common  Curfitors,  vulgarly  called  Vagabonds,   by 

Thomas  Harman,  1^67 m 

102.  Fearful  Fancies  of  the  Florentine  Cooper,  by  W.  Barker,  i}6S zojr 

103.  The  Line  of  Liberality,  by  N.  Havard,  IJ69 Ijj 

1 64.  A  Direftion  for  the  Health  of  Magiftrates  and  Students,  by  Thorny 

Newton,  1J74 r.  ..  414 

lo^.  A  form  of  Chriftian  Policy,  by  Gefffay  Fenton,  1574 .••....  6j6 

ro6.  The  Fraternity  of  Vagabonds,  1^74' .^... ........  a 

107.  An  Italian  Grammer,  by  Henry  Grantham,  1^75 377 

^08.  A  Regiment  for  the  Sea,  n.  d ig^ 

109.  Sermon,  by  William  Futke,  1579 19 j 

ii.o.  Sermon,  by  William  Fulke,  I  j8i 96 

til.  Dial  of Dellin.y,  by  John  Maplet,  ij8i 46 

I J  J.  An  Aftrological  Difcourfe,  by  Richard  Harvey,  IJ83 42 

An  Aftrological  Addition,  by  John  Harvey,  1583 43 

jTI  3.  A  godly  Sermon,  preached  before  the  Queen,  13  Sj. Ija 

114.  The  Enemy  to  Unthriftinefs,  by  Geo.  Whetftones,  1.5S6 ,iS/ai 

115.  Diamond  of  Devotion,  by  Ab.  Fleming,  1586 313 

116.  A  little  DlAionary  for  Children,  1386 582 

117.  TbePraifeof  Mufick,by  Dr.  Cafe,  138* 54r 

118.  The  Shepherd's  Logick,  by  Ab.  Fraiince,  MS 376 

119.  The  Lawyer's  Logick,  by  Ab.Fraunce,  138? 277 

120.  Problem  concerni ng Prophecies,  by  John  H arvey,  1588 14J 

121.  A  Countercuff  given  to  Martin  Junior,  ^3  89 124 

122.  Martin's  Month's  Mind,  13.89 •••  i-»7 

1^3.  The  return  of  the  renowned  eairalieroPaf^uill>  1389., 1^ 

r»4-.  'DiJ^l»y 


!4-  DIfplajr  of  Dutyj  by  Leonard  Wright,  i JS9. i ......  < 4 

ii.  Summons  for  Sleepers,  by  fame,  1^89, ^ 

l6.  Manufcript  in  the  Bodleian  Library^ ^<3 

27.  Declaration  of  the  Sickness  of  K.  ofSpaih,  1599. ^^ 

i8.  Admonitions  sent  the-ftate  of  Holland,  1598 20 

!9.  +  The  World's  Folly .....^ •  Si 

;o.  The  memorable  adventure  of  Ricliard  Ferris,  1^90 • SS 

J  I.  The  Spaniard's  Monarchy,  ky  H.  O.  1^92 43 

;2.  Proclamation  ofK..  of  Spaine,  1^92 •*■  ^' 

J3.  Treafure  of  a  good  Mind,  MS.  by  Capt.  Denys S 

14.  Dialogue  concerning  Cards,  by  James  Balmford,  1^93 4 

iS-  Thefolace  of  Sion,by  R.  Robinfon,  1^94.. . . .. 2ol 

;6.  Problems  of  Ariftotle,  1^9^.  .. .- < 44 

7.  A  thoufand  nomble  Things,  by  T.  Lupton,  n.  d< ......  < 29 

5.  Harry  White,  his  Humour,  by  Martin  Parkerj  n.  d 541 

9.  England's  View,  by  Gerrard  de  Malynes,  1603 131 

.0.  Welch  Bait  to  fpare  Provender,  by  T.  Powell,  1 603* 1 8; 

I.  Choice  Chance  and  Change  ;  or.  Conceits  in  their  Colours,  i €06  .. .  55! 

3.  The  Black  Year,  1606 Si- 

3.  The  Golden  Grove,  by  W.  Vaughan,  1608. . , 265 

4.  The  Man  in  the  Moon,  1609 8! 

i.  A  Book-  of  Proclamations,  1609 ,.<.............,  6^; 

6.  f  The  Raven's  Almanack  for  1609,  by  Thomas  Deckar .-.  SSj 

7.  Five  books  of  Philofophical  Comfort,  1609-.;^ 154 

8.  Treatife  of  Paradifej  by  John  Salkeld,  1617.. 141 

^.  The  Double  armed  Man,  by  William  Neade,  1 6i J 411 

0.  The  Goldeu  Fleece^  by  W.  Vaughan,  1626 274 

[.  Heaven's  glory,  feek  it :  Earth's  vanity,  fly  it :  Hell's  Horror,  feai- it. 

•By  Samuel  Rowlands,  162S , grt 

1.  Daily  Employment  for  the  Soul,  by  D.  Lupton,  1634 , 161 

J.  Foreit  of  Varieties,  by  LordNorth,  164.; jn, 

..  The  Clergy  in  their  Colours,  by  John  Fry,  1650 ,.., icy 

f.  England's  Command  on  the  Seas,  by  D.  Lupton,  16^3' I(5.j 

'.  The  Court  and  Kitchen  of  .Elisabeth,  commonly  called  Joan  Cromwel, 

^    '"+ 41-3 

r.  The  Temperate  Man,  or  right  way  of  preferving  Life  and-  Health,- 1678  5  74 


BIOGRAPHY. 

i.  Life  of  Gower  ami  Chaucer 

) Sir  Aft oi»  Cokayn ; 


I 

449 


BIBLIOGRAPHIAN\. 

).  Chronologlciil  Lift  of  Works  of  George  Wither , ,-    jg  . 

.  Catalogue  Raifonn'e  of  Hearne's  pieces ....'""  /; 

1. of  Books  on  Angling 


353 


EXCERPTA. 

;.  Old  Muiical  Airs -.     ,58 

i.  Songs  by  Dramatic  Writers .■..'.  "  '  ^'^'  *'^'  ^^^ 


1Srtti0jj  3BiblioBrapf)er* 


N°  VI. 


^  Memoirs  of  Gower  and  Chaucer. 

Of  the  two  great  Fathers  of  English  Poetry,  Gower 
and  Chaucer,  it  would  be  difficult,  to  say  any  thing 
new.  Yet  a  work  which  undertakes  to  give  the  biography 
of  the  most  eminent  of  the  early  professors  of  this  high 
art,  would  be  very  deficient  without  some  memorials  of 
those  celebrated  men.  It  has  struck  me  therefore  that 
under  these  circumstances,  when  so  much  has  lately 
been  written  about  them,  without  throwing  many  new 
lights  on  their  history,  it  would  usefully  gratify  curiosity 
to  introduce  a  transcript  of  the  account  given  of  them  by 
the  celebrated  John  Leland,  one  of  the  first,  most 
learned,  and  most  accomplished  of  our  biographers  and 
critics. 

The  book,  in  which  these  memoirs  occur,  though  not 
scarce,  is  now,  I  believe,  but  seldom  thought  of,  and 
still  seldomer  consulted.     It  is  entitled: 

"  Commentarii  de  Scriptorihus  Britannicis,  Auctore 
Joanne  Lelando  Londinense.  Ex  Autographo  Lelan- 
dina  nunc  primus  edidit  Anionius  Halt,  A.  M.  Coll. 
Reg.  Oxon.  Socius.  Oxonii  M  Theatro  Sheldoniano 
MDCCIX."  a  vols.  8vo. 

The  opportunity  to  compare  the  very  words  of  this 
eloquent  old  scholar,  who  lived  within  a  century  and  an 
half  of  the  two  illustrious  bards,  may  be  both  amusing 
and  useful. 

VOL.    II,  B  >  Of 


Of  Godwin's  late  Life  of  Chaucer,  in  two  quarto, 
(or  four  oqtavo,)  volumes,  the  merits  and  defects  have 
already  been  accurately  settled.  It  is  much  too  diffuse 
and  digressive;  and  conta;ins  little  new  matter;  but  still 
it  is  both  entertaining  and  instructive.  The  severity  of 
witty  and  sportive  satire  has  nearly  driven  it  from  among 
the  living  records  of  the  press  to  sleep  in  dusty  corners 
beneath  the  mantle  of  oblivion.  The  ingenious  biogra- 
pher was  new  to  his  subject;  his  eyes  were  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  ways  of  hoar  antiquity;  but  he  displays 
jreat  labour,  comprehensive  research,  much  occasional 
eloquence,  and  powers  of  criticism  of  the  higher  sort. 

Mr.  Todd's  Illuslratmis  are  distinguished  by  that 
iccuracy  and  industry  of  investigation,  which  have  justly 
)btained  him  a  high  place  among  our  modern  antiquaries 
md  commentators. 

"  De  Joanne  Govero. 

"  Joannes  Govekus,  vir  equestris  ordinis,  ex  Stitenhamo,  * 
'ilia  Eboracensis  provinciae,  ut  ego  accepi,  originem  ducens ; 
ta  in  doctis  studiis  florentes  adolescentiffi  suae  annos  exegit,  ut 
nter  nobiles  Anglos,  literates  quidem  illos,  suae  aetatis  facile 
ntesignanus  fuerit.  Coluit  forum  &  patrias  leges,  lucri  causa ; 

*  Francis  Thynne  in  his  Animad'versions  on  Speight's  Chaucer, 
1599)  lately  published  by  Mr.  Todd,  says  :  "  Bale  hath  mistaken 
t,  as  he  hath  done  infinite  things  in  that  book,  De  Scriptorihus 
fe^/i.*,  being  for  the  most  part  the  collections  of  Leland.  For 
n  truth  your  arms  of  this  Sir  John  Gower  being  Argent  on  a 
he'vron  azure  3  leopards  heads,  Or,do  prove  that  he  came  of  a  con- 
rary  house  from  the  Gonuers  of  Stitenham  in  Yorkshire,  who  bare 
iarrule  of  argent  and  gules  a  cross  pattee  floree  sable.  Which  diffe- 
ence  of  arms  seemeth  a  difference  of  families,  unless  you  can 
)rove  that  being  of  one  house,  they  altered  their  arms  upon  some 
ust  occasion,  as  that  sonpie  of  the  house  marrying  an  heir  did  leave 
»s  own  arms  and  bare  the  arms  of  his  mother,  as  was  accustomed 
n  times  past.  But  this  difference  of  coats  for  this  cause,  or  any 
)dier  that  I  could  ever  yet  learn,  shall  you  not  find  in  this  family 
if  Gower:  and  therefore  several  houses  from  the  first  original." 
Todd,  ut  supra,  p.  23.  Mr.  Todd,  however,  has  brought  forward 
iome  presumptive  evidence  that  the  poet  was  of  the  Stitenham 
amily.  Yet  if  the  feet  of  the  arms  be  accurate,  Thynne't  reason- 

"l,!JIr£TA   i'A/^fvS""'"''"  ^'^"^Se,  n.4+3,  new  edition, 
beriafter  to  be  published.) 

praeter 


3 

praetet  coetera  tamen  humaniores  literas :  multumque  in  poesi 
sudavit.  Hoc  ejus  testantur  carmina,  quae  multa  Latine 
scripsit,  studiosius  quam  felicius  P.  Ovidium  iroitatus.  Nee 
mirum  illud  videri  debet,  praesertim  in  serni-barbaro  saeculq  j 
cum  vix  hac  nostra  tarn  florenti  aetata  inveniatur,  qui  redun- 
dantem  illam  Nasonis  in  carmine  felicitatem  belle  exprimat. 
Quanquam  Eobanus  Hessus  in  hac  parte  tam  se  industrium, 
quam  qui  raaxime,  nostro  tempore  exhibuii:  sad  priraam  ante 
ejus  tempora  palmam  tulit  Jovianus  Pontanus,  mel  merum  et 
Musarum  deliciae.  Connivearaus  igitur  ad  hanc  Goveri 
qualemcunque  infelicitatem,  et  ostendamus  ilium  omnium 
fuisse  primura  patriae  linguae  expolitorem.  Nam  ante  ejus 
aetatcm  Anglica  lingua  inculta,  et  fere  tota  rudis  jacebat. 
Nee  erat  qui  opus  aliquod,  vernaculo  idioraate,  eleganti  lectore 
dignum  scriberet.  Itaqua  operae  pretium  esse  duxit,  diligen- 
tem  adhibere  cukuram,  ut  sic  extirpatis  tandem  rudibus 
herbis,  pro  carduo  et  paliuro,  mollis  viola  et  purpureus  surgeret 
narcissus.  Patrio  multa  scripsit  sermona,  non  solum  rhythmis, 
verum  etiam  soluta  oratione  ;  quse  vel  hoc  nostro  florentissimo 
tempore  a  doctis  studiose  leguntur.  Inter  majuscula  ejus  opera 
primum  est  Speculum  Meditantis,  proximum  Vox  Clamantis, 
tertium  Confessio  Jmantis. 

"  Non  videbuntur  delicato  forsan  lectori  haec  nomina  libris 
per  elegantiam  imposita.  Est  tamen  nescio  quid  in  nominibus 
mysterii,  et  qnaedam,  ut  ita  dicam,  conspiratio,  utpote  unius 
ab  altero  pendentis.  Sed  haec  nemini  nisi  legenti  liquido  ap- 
parebunt. 

'  "  Floruit  Governs  *  rognante  in  Anglia  Richardo  secundo, 
cui  libros  suos  dedicavit  et  cui  de  Laude  Pads  cantionem, 
plenissimam  consilii  et  virtutis,  etiam  caecus  obtulit.  Vixit  ad 
justam  usque  senectutem,  ut  ex  ejus  vcrsibus,  quos  subscribam^ 
apparet : 

Dum  potui,  scripsij  sed  nunc  quia  curvra  senectus 
Turbavit  sensus,  scripta  relinquo  scholis. 

"  De  tempore  ejus  obitusf  non  possum  rectc  computare. 
Hoc  interim  constat,  quod  honorifice  sepultus  sit  Londini 
apud  canonicos  Marianos  in  ipsa  Tamesis  ripBj  ubi  etiam  et 
ejus  uxor  sepulchro,  sed  humiliori  conditur.     Habet  ibidem 

*  He  is  supposed  to  have  been  born  about  1326. 

•f-  It  is  now  ascertained  by  the  probate  to  his  will  that  he  died 
in  140S.  See  Todd's  Illustrations  of  Gower  and  Chaucer,  X'vii.  88. 
Gough^s  Sepulchral  Mamments,  Centur  xv. 

£  2  statuam 


statuam*  duplici  insignem  nota,  nempe  aureo  torque,  et  hede- 
racea  t  corona  rosis  interserta:  illud  militis,  hoc  poet»  orna- 
mentutn.  Quod  autem  sepulchrum  apud  Marianos  sibi  posu- 
erit,  hoc  in  causa  fuisse  arbitror.  Conflagravit  bona  pars  sub- 
tirbiij  quodponti  Londinensi  adjacet,  AnnoD.  1212,  regnante 
rege  Joanne.  Ex  quo  casu  Marianorum  coEnobium  igne  cor- 
reptum  est,  et  foede  deturpatum,  nee  pristine  decori  restauratum 
fuit  ante  primos  annos  Richardi  secundi.  Tunc  Governs  mi- 
sertus  tantse  calamitatis,  partim  per  amicos  suos,  quos  multos 
et  potenteis  habuit,  partim  prapriis  impensis  basilicam  una 
cum  ornamentis  reparandam  curavit.  Ipsi  hodie  Mariani  ag- 
noscunt  Goveri  erga  se  liberaWtatem, ;  quamvis  ron  ita  mag- 
nam,  ac  ego  praedico.  Haec  meo  judicio  causa  fuit,  quod  suis 
Marianis  reliquias  comniendaverit.  Sed  de  Govero  plura  in 
Chaucero  dicamus." 

f\  "  De  Gallofrido  Chaucero. 

"  Gallofridus  Ch-auceeus,  nobili  loco  natus,  et  summae 
ipei  juvenis  Isiacas  scholas  tam  diligenter,  quam  qui  maxime, 
:elebravit :  id  quod  ut  faceret,  academiae  vicinitas  quodammodo 
nvitavit.  Nam  quibusdam  argumentis  adducor  ut  credam, 
Tsiacam  vel  Berochensem  provinciam  ilHus  naiale  solum  fuisse. 
Hinc  acutus  dialecticus,  hinc  dulcis  rhetor,  hinc  lepidus  poeta, 
line  gravis  philosophus,  hinc  ingeniosus  mathematicus,  (qua 
jarte  et  a  Joanne  Somao,  et  Nicola  Carmelita  Linensi,  viris  in 
nathesi  eruditis,  quos  in  libro  de  Sph/Bra  nominat,  instructus 
"ait)  hinc  denique  sanctus  Theologus  evasit.  Maxima  equidem 
;um  lociitus  j  at  quisquis  ejus  libros  curiosi  manu  evolvent,  me 
jonee  fidei  praeconem  facile  judicabit.  Ingenue  tamon  fatebor 
iic  eum  Isiaci  studuissc,  ut  et  alibi  etiam  longo  studiorum  usu 
nulta  ad  scientise  cumulum  adjecerit.  Constat  utique  ilium 
nrca  postremos  Richardi  secundi,  J  cui  nou  incognitus  erat, 
annos  in  Gallia  floruisse,   magnamque  ex  assidua  in  Uteris 

»  See  an  elegant  engraving  of  the  monument  in  Todd,  ut  supra, 
i.  141. 

t  Thynne  says,  it  is  not  a  garland  of  ivy  and  roses :  but  a 
simple  garland  of  rOses  only,  "  one  of  the  peculiar  ornaments  of  a 
Knight,  as  well  as  his  collar  of  SSS,  his  gilt  sword,  and  spears." 
Jiid,  p.  24. 

%  Tyrwhitt  says  "  Leland's  account  is  full  of  inconsistencies." 
But  Godwin  observes  on  this,  that  "  Leland's  account  is  indeed 
•rroneous  in  his  chronology,  and  appears  to  have  supposed  Chau- 
cer to  hav'e  been  bom  and  to  have  died  thirty  years  later  than  he 
ictually  did.  In  treating  of  Chaucer's  studies,  he  refers  them  ex- 
pressly 


exercltatione  gloriam  sibi  comparasse:  turn  praeterea  eadem 
opera  omnes  veneres,  lepores,  delicias,  sales,  ac  postremo  gratias 
linguae  Galliae  tarn  alte  coimbibisse,  quam  cuiquam  vix  credi- 
bile.  Laus  ista  Gallqfridum  in  Angliam  reversum  sequebatijr, 
tanquam  comes  ejus  viitutis  individua.  Ejusnaodi  igitur  laetus 
successibus  forum  Londinense  et  collegia  leguleiorum,  qui  ibi- 
dem patria  jura  interpretantur,  frequentavit,  ut  et  ante  (?a//ior» 
cognitam  forsan  feceiat. 

"  Illis  temporibus  inter  forenses  clarissimus  erat  Joannes 
Governs,  cujus  vitam  praescripsiraus,  homo  venerandae  aetatiSj  et 
qui  mirum  in  modum  Anglicte  linguae  politiei  studebat.  Hie, 
perspecta  indole  et  examinata.  Gallofridi  probitate,  ilium  in 
familiarem  sibi  accivit^  ilium  ulnis  amplexus  est,  ilium  etiam 
in  honestis  deliciis  babuit,  ilium  denique  tanquam  numen  ali- 
cfuod  modo  non  veneratus  est.  Ut  ego  taceam,  ipsemet  Go- 
lems in  libro,  qui  titulo  Amantis  inscribitur  abunde  decla- 
rat,  quanti  suum  Chaucerum  fecer'it;  quem  acutatissime  prius 
laudatum,  eximium  vocat  poetani,  et  in  operis  quasi  Ari- 
starchum  facit.*  Ecce  tibi,  lector,  pulcherrimum  virtutis  cer- 
tamen.  Nam  ut  Governs,  homo  parum  sibi  tribuens,  lucu- 
brationes,  quas  consummaverat  Gallofridi  judicio  modestesub- 
misit;  sic  rursus  Chaucerus  avaoxes  Troili  Goveri  et  Str.odcei 
calculis  subjecit.  Sed  quis  hie  Strodceus  fuerit,  apud  autorem 
nullum  hactenus  legi.  At  nemini  interim  legisse  me  illustria 
de  Slrodeen,  Maredunensis  societatis  ad  Isidis  Vadum  alumno, 
in  poesi  eruditissimo,  qui  et  in  Catalogo  Maridunensium  pos- 
tremis  Eadveardi  X&r\\i  annis  adscribitur.  Tantum  apparet  ex 
Gallofridi  versiculis  philosophiae  studiosum  fuisse.  Adde  hue 
quod  quemadmodum  Chaucerus  admirator  simul  et  sectator 
Goveri,  ha.  ..  .Schoganus,  cujus  sepulchrum  Visirnonasterii 
estat,  vir  ad  omnes  facetias  et  sales  compbsitus,  Chauceri 
admirator  ac  imitator  fuit.  Ac  rursus  quanto  discipulus  Chau~ 
cerus  major  Govero  praeceptore  suo,  tanto  minor  erat  Schtiiganus 
Chaucero. 

p.essly  to  the  concluding  years  of  Richard  II.  But  though 
glaringly  defective  in  his  dates,  he  has  introduced  no  inconsisten- 
cies or  contradictions  into  his  statement  of  the  consecative  serie* 
of  Chaucer's  education."     Godiuin's  Life  of  Chaucer,  %'vo.  //< +5. 

*  "  The  friendship  of  Chaucer  and  Gower,  which  probably 
commenced  in  their  boyish  days,  and  which  we  are  sure  continued 
undiminished  for  mwre  than  forty  years,  ceased  to  exist  while 
both  the  parties  were  yet  living.  Chaticer  is  construed  as  throwing 
out  an  indirect  sarcasm  against  Gower  in  his  Prologue  to  the 
Man  of  Law's  Tak;  and  the  compliment  to  Chaucer  in  the  Epi- 
logue to  Gower's  De  Confessione  Jnfanlis,  is  suppressed  in  some 
MSS.  of  that  work  being  probably  withdrawn  by  the  hand  of  the 
author."    Godwin,  U,  3z. 

X  3  "■  Nunc 


"  Nunc  vero  orationis  series  postulat,  ut  aperte  doceamus 
quem  scopum  Gallofridum  studiis  prasfixerit.  Profecto  ejus 
Scopus  unicus  fuit,  ut  linguam  Anglicam  nutneris  omnibus 
quain  ornatissimam  redderet.  Viderat  enim  Goverum  in 
eodem  negotio  belle  processisse.  Quare  nullum  non  movendum 
sibi  lapidem  putabat,  quo  ad  supremam  felicitatis  metam  per- 
veniret.  Et  quoniam  Poesim  praeter  caetera  semper  dilexit, 
amavitj  coluit  j  visum  est  ei  vel  commodissimum  per  illani  ad 
ipsa  eloquentiae  culmina  viam  patefacere.  Tale  eternim  est 
poesis,  ut  tropes,  elegantias,  ornamenta,  copiatn,  et  quicquid 
venenim  et  leporum  est,  non  nodo  admittat,  verum,  quod 
multo  rrajus,  suo  quodam  jure  poscat.  Adde  hue,  quod  Italos 
et  Gallos,  qui  plurima  suis  iinguis  terse  nitide  eleganter  scrip- 
serunt,  in  partem  operis  evocaverit.  Tantum  est  incjytos 
habere  duces,  quos  sequaris.  retrarcha  circa  haec  tempera  in 
/te/jiclaruit,  cujus  opera  lingua  ibidem  vernacula  eoelegantiae 
perducta  est,  ut  cum  ipsa  Latinade  eloquentiae  paima  conten- 
derit.  Quidam  etiam  Alan(is  linguam  Gallicam.  infinitis  modis 
Bxpoliebat.  Uterque  istorum  (multos  alios  clarissimae  notae 
homines  qui  eadem  fecerunt,  omitto)  calcar  Chaucero,  alioqui 
sua  sponte  satis  current!,  addidit.  Bonis  igitur  avibus  incepto 
Dperi  incubuit,  nunc  libellos  Gallica  lingua  compte,  ornate, 
3iserte  scriptos  in  patrium  sermonem  transferensj  nunc  Lati- 
nos versus  Anglicis,  sed  docte,  sed  apte,  sed  canore  exprimens ; 
lunc  multa  e  suo  capite  nata,  et  Latinorum  felicitatem  aequan- 
:ia,  victuris  chartis  commendans.  Nunc  lectori  ut  prodesset 
lervis  omnibus  contendens,  et  vicissim  ut  eundem  delectaret 
edulo  curans  :  nee  antea  finem  fecit,  quam  linguam  nostram 
id  earn  puritatem,  ad  earn  eloquentiam,  ad  earn  denique  brevi- 
atem  ac  gratiam  perduxerat,  ut  inter  expolitas  gentium  linguas 
losset  recte  quidem  connumerari,  itaque  in  libris  meorum  £pi- 
'jammaton  )a\&  versibus  ejus  gloria?  assurgo: 

Praedicat  Aligcrum  merito  Florentia  Dantem, 
Italia  et  numeros  tota,  Petrarche,  tuos  : 

Anglia  Chaucerum  veneratur  nostra  poetam, 
Cui  veneres  debet  patria  lingua  suas.  ■*-. 

it  rursus : 

Dum  juga  montis  aper,  frondes  dum  laeta  volucris, 
Squamiger  et  liquidas  piscis  amabit  aquas:  '* 

^eeonides,  Gr^  f<»  linguae  clarissimus  auctor, 
Aonio  primus  carmine  semper  erit. 

Sic  quoque  Firgilius  Romante  gloria  Musae 
Maxima,  vel  Phoelo  judice,  semper  erit. 

Nee  minus  et  noster  Galfridus  summa  Britanrne 
Chaucerus  cithar%  gratia  semper  erit. 

Illos 


Illos  quis  nescit  felicia  saecla  tulisse; 

Hunc  taletn  et  tantum  protulit  hora  rudis. 
Tempora  vidisset  quod  si  florentia  Musis, 

jEquasset  eelebres,  vel  superasset  avos. 

Neque  hie  pigebit  in  medium  adducere  Hendecasyllabos,  ex 
eodem  fonte  petitos,  quos  aliquot  abhiiic  annis,  orante  Thoma 
Berthokto,  typographo  cum  diligenti  turn  erudito,  scripsi: 

Cum  novum  brevis  Atticus  leporem 
Invenisset,  et  undecunque  Grcecam 
Linguam  perpoliisetj  insolenter 
Barbaros  reliquos  vocare  ccEpit. 
Cujus  vestigia  impiger  Quirimts 
Ter  certo  pede  persequens,  Latinum 
Sermonem  bene  reddidit  venustum ; 
Et  cum  Graco  alios  rudes  vocavit. 
At  quanlo  mihi  rectius  videtur 
Fecisse  officium  suum  disertus 
Chaucerus,  brevitate  primus  apta 
Linguam  qui  patriam  redegit  illam 
In  formanl,  ut  venere  et  lepore  multo, 
Ut  multo  sale,  gratiaque  multa, 
Luceret,  velut  Hesperus  minora 
Inter  sidera ;  nee  tamen  superbe 
Linguae  barbariem  exprobavit  uUi. 
Quare  vos  juvenes  manu  Britanni 
Laeta  spargite  nunc  rosas  siiave 
Spirantes,  violasque  moUiores, 
Et  vestro  date,  candidi,  poetae 
Formosam  ex  hedera  (citi)  coronam, 

Sed  jam  satis  nostrarum  neigarum  adposuimus.  Alius  ills 
sortis  homo  erat,  quam  ut  mese  praeconio  Musae  meritas  laudes 
accipere  queat.  O  quanto  citius  sub  aequo  judice  a  suis  operi- 
bus  justam  consequetur  laudem.  Ideoque  optarem  quidem 
nostram  linguam  poetis  Latinis  familiarem  esse :  tunc  facile 
inquam,  facile  in  meam  sententtam  irent.  At  quoniam  quod 
opto  vix  fieri  potest,  tantum  exoratos  volo,  ut  mihi  I^atinarum 
literarum  amatori  aliquid  in  bac  parte  fidei  habeant,  quo  au- 
spicio  non  gravabor  ejus  lucubrationum  inscriptiones  Latinitate 
donare;  ut  sic  saltern  leonem,  quemadniodum  in  proverbio 
est,  ex  ipsis  aestiment  unguibus. 

"  Quanquam  priusquam  id,  quod  modo  sum  poUlicitus 
prsestitero,  non  alienum  meo  erit  instituto  palam  facere  Guliel- 
mum  Caxodunum,  hominem  nee  indiligentem  nee  indoctutni 
ct  quern  constat  primum  Londini  artem  exercuisse  typographi- 

B  4  cam 


8 

:am,  Chauceri  opera,  quotquot  vel  pretio  vel  precibus  ctmipa- 
rare  potuit,  in  unum  volumen  coUegisse.  Vicit  tamen  6aro~ 
dunicam  editionem  Berthoktits  noster  opera  GuRelmi  Thynni ; 
jui,  multolabore,  sedulitate  ac  cura  usus  in  perquiendis  ve- 
tustis  exemplaribus,  multa  primae  adjecit  edition!.  Sed  nee  in 
bac  parte  caruit  Brianus  Tucca,  mihi  familiaritate  conjunctissi- 
Bus,  et  Jnglka  linguae  eloquentia  mirificus,  sua  gloria,  edi  a 
in  postremam  impressionem  praefatione  climata,  luculenta,  ele- 
ganti.  Sequar  igitur  codicem  paucis  abhinc  annis  impressum, 
;t  promissum  adponam  syllabon. 

Fabulce  Cantiance  xxiv, 
Quarum  duse    soluta  oratione  scriptse ;  sed  Petri  Aratoris 
"abuja,  quae  communi  doctorum  consensu  Chaucero,  tanquam 
^ero  parenti,  attribuitur  in  utraque  editione,  quia  malos  sacer- 
iotum  mores  vehemenler  increpavit,  suppressa  est. 

De  arte  Amand'i,  alias  Romaunce  of  the  Rose. 

Amores  TroUi  et  Chrysidis,  lib  5. 

Testamentum  Chrysidis,  et  ejusdem  lavientatatio. 

Amores  Heroidum. 
' De  Consolatione  Philosophi<s,  soluta  oratione. 

Somniinn  Chauceri. 

Chorus  Avium. 

Flos  Humanitatis, 
[ui  libellulus  a  multis,  tanquam  nothuSj  rejicitur. 

De  Pietate  mortua,  et  ejus  Sepultura. 

Chorus  Heroidum. 

De  Astrolabio  ad  LudovicumJUium  suum,  prosa. 

Querela  Equitis  cogn.  Nigri. 

Encomium  Mulierum. 

De  Fama,  lib.  3. 

Testamentum  Amoris,  lib,  3. 

Threni  MagdalentB. 

De  Remedio  Amoris. 

Querela  Martis  et  Veneris. 

Epistola  Cupidinis. 

Cantiones. 

Hactenus  de  nomenclatura  ejus  librorum  cui  hodie  passim 
eguntur.  Praeter  illos  tamen,  quos  ego  recensui  ipsemet  in 
prologo,  Amoribus  Heroidum  praefixo,  fatetur  se  scripsisse  li- 
sellum  de  morte  Blanchte  Ducis;  turn  etiam  Oriaenis  de  Mag' 
ialena  opusculum  transtulisse  :  quod  ego,  (si  modo  Orioines  tale 
ijuidquam  sgripsit)  idem  esse  arbitror  cum  Lamentatione  Mag- 
ialence,  de  qua  superius  in  syllabo  mentionem  feci. 

"  Torsitap  hie  aliquis  finem  dicendi  a  me  expectaret,  sed  en-o 

pauca 


pauca  adhuc  habeo,  qnsSiChaucerum  poster! tati  magnifice  com- 
mendabunt.  ,  Nam,  quemadiriodum  RicKardo  Burdegalensi, 
Anglorum  Regi,  cognitus,  et  yirtutum  nomiue  charus  fuitj 
ita  etiara  Henrico  quarto,  et  ejus  filio,  qui  de  Gallis  triumpha- 
vit  eisdem  titulis  commendatissimus  erat.  Quid  quod  et  tola  no- 
■  bilitas  Anglica  ilium.,  tanqnam  absolutum  torrentis  eloquentias 
exemplum,  suspexit.  Accessit  insuper  ad  ejus  gloriam,  quod 
sororem  *  habuerit,  quae  Gulielmo  Polo  (nisi  me  nomen  fallit) 
Sudovolgioe  duci,  nupsit,  ac  magno  in  splendore  ^^z/cZtoz  vitam 
egit:  .ubi  postea,  fatis  sic  vdentibus,  diem  quoque  obiit,  et, 
ut  ego  aliquando  accepi,  sepulta  est, 

"  Inter  liaec  Chaucerus  ad  canos  devenitj  sensitque  ipsam 
senectutem  morbum  esse  ;  qua  ingravescente,  dum  is  Landini 
causas  suas  curaret,  mortuus  est,  et  Visimonasterii  in  Australi 
insula  basilicas,  D.  Petro  sacrae,  sepultus.  Lvdoviciim  autem  re- 
liquit  fortuharum  suarum,  quas  utcunque  amplas  habebat,  hae- 
redem,  et  praecipoe  viilae  suae  Vbdestochce,  regiae  adraodum 
vieinae.  Aliquanto  post  tempore  GuUelmus  Caxodunus  Chau- 
ceri  monimentum  hoc  distichp  inscribi  fecit: 

Galfridus  Chaucek  vates,  et  fama  poesis 
Maternse,  hac  sacra  sum  tumulatus  humo. 

Hi  duo  versus  desumpti  fuerunt  ex  quadam  naenia,  quam 
Stephanus  Surigonus  Mediolanensis,  poeta  suo  tempore  clarus, 
rogante  Gulielmo  Caxtono,  scripsit.  Quare  juvat  tola m  ipsam 
naeniam,  quoniam  tersa,  canora,  et  rotunda  est,  in  praesentM 
recitare.  Sic  enim  Chaucerus,  qui  re  vera  maximus  fuit^  nobilj 
testimonio  extern!  scriptoris  major  videbjtur : 

Pierides  Musae,  si  possunt  numina  fletus 

Fundere,  divinas  atque  rigare  genas, 
Galfridi  Chaucer  vatis  crudelia  fata 

Plangite;  sit  lacrymis  abstinuisse  nefas. 
Vos  coluit  vivens,  at  vos  celebrate  sepultum: 

Reddatur  merito  gratia  digna  viro. 
Grande  decus  nobis  est  docti  Musa  Mwronis, 

Qua  didicit  melius  lingua  Latina  loqui : 

*  It  seems  to  be  well  established  that  Thomas  Chaucer,  whose 
daughter  Alice  married  William  De  la  Pole  Dujce  of  Suffolk,  was 
eldest, son  of  the  poet.  The  tomb  of  this  Thomas  Chaucer  and  of 
his  daughter  the  Duchess  at  tix^elmm  Oxfordshire,  is  ornamented; 
with  the  spinifing  •wheel,  the  emblem  of  the  family  name  of  the 
poet's  wife,  Roitet;  and  the  paved  bricks  of  the  church  are  orna- 
mented with  the  same  figure.     GodiMtn,  IF.  159,  &c.  See. 

The  poet  had  a  younger  son,  Lewis,  who  is  supposed  to  have 
died  young,  contrary  to  Lel'and's  assertion. 

Grande 


lO 

Grande  novuraque  decus  Chaucer  famamque  paravit, 

Heu  quantum  fuerat  prisca  Britanna  radis! 
Reddidit  insignem  maternis  versibus,  ut  jam 

Aurea  splendescat,  ferrea  facta  prius. 
Hunc  latuisse  virum  nil,  si  tot  opuscula  vertes, 

Dixerls,  egregiis  quae  decorata  modis 
Socratis  ingenium,  vel  fontes  philosophiae, 

Quicquid  et  arcani  dogmata  sacra  ferunt: 
Et  quoscunque  velis  tenoit  doctissimus  artes, 

Flic  vates  parvo  conditus  in  tomulo. 
Ah  I  laudis  quantum  praeclara  Britannia  perdis, 

Dum  rapuit  tantum  mors  odiosa  virum; 
Crudeles  Parcae,  crudelia  fila  sorores, 

Non  tamen  extincto  corpora  fama  perit. 
Vivet  in  aeternum,  vivent  dum  scripta  poetae, 

Vivant  aeterno  tot  monimenta  die, 
Siquabonos  tangit  pietas,  si  carmine  dignus, 

Carmina  qui  cecinit  tot  cumulata  modis. 
Hoc  sibi  marmoreo  scribantur  verba  sepulchro 

Hoc  maneat  laudis  sarcina  summa  suae  : 
Galfkidus  Chaucek  vates,  et  fama  poesis 

Materna,  kacsacra  sum  tumulatus  humo. 
Post  obitum  Caxton  voluit  te  vivere  cura 

GuiLHELMi,  Chaucek,  clare  poeta,  tui : 
Nam  tua  non  solum  compressit  opuscula  formis, 

Hac  quoque  sad  laudes  jussit  hie  esse  tuas. 

Habes  nunc,  humanissime  lector,  elegos  in  nivea  tabclla  de- 
jictos,  quos  Surigonus  Visimonasterii  columnae,  Chauceri  se- 
julchro  vicinae,  adfixit.  Tu  saepe  aosdem  in  nostri  vatis  gra- 
iam  legas  sic  tibi  quisquis  cris,  faveat  suadela,  leposque."  * 

The 

*  Thynne  in  his  Animadversions  already  cited,  makes  the  fol- 
owing  remarks  on  the  Origin  of  Printing.  "  In  the  latter  end 
)f  the  title  of  Chaucer's  death, you  say  that  printing  was  brmight 
lut  of  Germany  in  the  year  14.71,  being  the  37  H.  6.  into  England, 
jeing  first  found  at  Megunce  by  one  John  Guthembergus,  and 
jrought  to  Rome  by  Conradus  an  Almaine.  But  the  year  of 
Christ  14.71  was  not  the  37  H.  6,  but  the  eleventh  of  King  Ed- 
ward the  Fourth ;  and  as  some  have  it,  [it]  was  not  first  found  at 
Mogunce  or  Meatz,  hat  at  Strasburgh,  and  perfected  at  Mmtz. 
David  Chryteus,  in  his  History,  saith,  it  was  first  found  in  Anno 
[440,  and  brought  to  Rome  by  Henricus  Han,  a  German,  in  the 
itM  1470;  whereof  Antonius  Campanus  formed  this  excellent 
;pigram : 

Anser  Tarpeii  custos  Jovis,  unde,  quod  alis 
Constreperes,  Callus  decidit ;  ultQr  adest 

Ulricus 


II 


%  The  Bylle  in  EngUshe,  that  is,  the  olde  and  netv 
Testament,  after  the  translacion  appoynted  to  bee  read 
in  the  Churches.  Imprynted  at  London  in  Flete 
strete,  at  the  sig?ie  of  the  Sunne,  ouer  agaynst  the 
Condtiyte,  by  Edwarde  IVhitechurche.  The  xxix  day 
of  December,  the  years  of  our  Lorde  M.D.XL.IX, 
Cum  priuilegio  ad  imprimendum  solum. 

The  above  work  is  noticed  only  for  the  purpose  of  in- 
troducing the  following  narrative,  transcribed  from  the 
back  of  its  title-page;  as  an  anecdote  of  Bishop  Slyll, 
the  author  of  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle  it  seems  worthy 
preservation.  The  omissions  I  have  not  been  able  to 
decypher. 

"  On  Sundaye  the  fovrthe  daye  of  December  in  the  nync 
and  thurtie  yere  of  the  raigne  ofQueene  Elizabethe  in  Anno 
d~no  15Q6,  one  Doctor  Rogers,  Chancellor  of  the  Churche  of 
St.  Andrew  in  Wellesj  did  preache  in  the  qaier  of  the  same 
churche  the  forenoone,  and  continued  his  sermon  after  seven 
of  the  clocke  almost  one  quarter — in  the  ****  of  lohn  Still, 
Byshopp,  Doctor  Langworthe,  dyvers  others  of  the  cannons, 
Mr.  Towse***  and  many  other  to  the  number  by  estimate  of 
i'y\e  hundredes.  The  wether  did  grow  very  clowdy,  and  it 
rayned  and  hayled  wonderfull  fast  and  verye  darke,  and  in 
one  momenthe  a  fyery  flame  went  through  the  chancell  from 
the  lower  dore  vpwards,  and  w'''all  a  wonderfull  thunder  clapp 
to  the  great  feare  &  terror  of  all  the  people,  that  the  Byshop 
and  all  other  fell  on  their  knees  &  prayed  hartely  to  God,  and 
so  only  the  rayne  continued,  but  no  more  thunder  nor  lyten- 
ing,  and  in  this  lytening  &  thunder,  one  damsell  *****  ij  of 
the  Byshops  men  were  marked  w"'  spotts,  and  dyvers  other, 
and  fell  downe  therew'''.  to  the  great  feare  &  terror  of  all  the 
people,  I  praye  God  geve  us  grace  to  amend  our  lyves." 

Bristol,  .1810.  J.  F. 

Ulricas  Gallus;  ne  quem  poscantur  in  usum, 
Edocuit  pennis  nil  opus  esse  tuis. 

But  others  do  suppose  that  it  was  invented  at  Argenterote,  as 
doth  Matthew  Parker  in  the  Life  of  Thomas  Bourchier,  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  :  which  for  the  uncertainty  thereof  1  leave 
at  this  time  to  further  examin;ition,  riot  having  now  present 
leisure  therefore."     Todd,  ut  supra,  ji,  32. 

The 


IZ 


^  The  Fraternitye  of  TJacahondes.  M  tvel  of  riiflyng 
yacahondes,  as  of  beggerly,  of  women  as  of  men,  qjf 
Gyrles  as  of  Boyes,  with  their  proper  n(imes  and 
qualities.  PFith  a  description  of  the  crafty  company 
of  Cousoners  and  Shifter s.%lVherunto  also  is  ad- 
loyned  the.  xxv.  Orders  of  Knaues,  otherwyse  called 
a  Quartern  of  Knaues.  Confirmed  for  euer  ly  Cocke 
Lorell. 

^   The  Fprightmcm  speaketh. 

^Our  Brothethood  of  (Jacabondes, 
If  you  would  know  where  dwell: 
In  graues  end  Barge  which  syldome  standes, 
The  talke  wyll  shew  ryght  well. 

%   Cocke  Lorell  aunswereth, 
irSome  orders  of  my  knaues  also 
Jn  that  Barge  shall  ye  fynde : 
For  no  where  shall  ye  walke  J  trow^ 
But  ye  shall  see  their  kynde. 

%  Imprinted  at  London  by  lohn  Jwdeley,  dwellyng 
in  little  Britayne  streele  without  Atdersgate.  1575. 
[410.  black  letter,  containing  nine  leaves.] 

Such  is  the  title  of  this  very  curious  tract,  which  is 
riefly  mentioned  by  Warton  (History  of  English  Poetry, 
V.  75.)  as  one  of  the  first  books,  exhibiting  not  only 
he  tricks  but  the  language  of  thieves.  Mr.  W.  supposes 
I  to  have  been  taken  from  another  piece  of  the  same  de- 
cription,  by  Thomas  Harman,  entitled  A  Caueat  for 
lommen  Cvrsetors  vvlgarely  called  Uagahones,  &c. 
567,  but  this  cannot  be  the  case,  since  we  find  in  Her- 
ert's  Ames,  (II.  885,)  that  an  edition  appeared  by  the 
ime  prmter,  so  early  as  1565.  The  second,  of  which 
'e  here  propose  to  offer  some  account,  has  escaped  the 
bservation  of  these  diligent  bibliographers. 

The  source  from  which  the  information  contained  in 
le  tract  was  procured,  is  declared  in  the  followino-  lines 
:  the  back  of  the  title.  '^ 

The 


13 

"  The  Printer  to  the  Reader. 

"  This  brotherhood  of  Uacabondes 
To  shew  tliat  there  be  such  in  deede : 
Both  justices  and  men  of  landes, 
Wyll  testifye  it  if  it  nede. 

For  at  a  sessions  as  they  sat, 

By  chaunce  a  Uacabond  was  got. 
Who  promysde  if  they  would  hi*  spare, 
And  keepe  his  name  from  knowledge  then : 
He  would  as  straunge  a  thing  declare 
As  euer  they  knew  synce  they  were  men. 

But  if  my  fellowes  do  know  (sayd  he,) 

That  thus  J  dyd,  they  would  kyll  me. 

They  graunting  him  this  his  request. 
He  dyd  declare  as  here  is  read. 
Both  names  and  states  of  most  and  least. 
Of  this  their  Uacabondes  brotherhood. 
Which  at  the  request  of  a  worsbipfial  ma 
J  haue  set  it  forth  as  well  as  J  can." 

The  compiler,  who  it  seems  was  Audley  the  printer, 
then  goes  on  to  enumerate  and  characterize  the  several 
denominations  of  cheats  and  pick- pockets,  company 
which  the  readers  of  the  Bibliographer  might  justly 
condemn  me  for  introducing  them  to,  did  not  the  publi- 
cation command  some  interest  from  being  the  undoubted 
earliest  tract  extant  on  this  subject. 

In  the  following  list  of  contents  I  shall  transcribe,  in 
the  notes,  descriptions  of  such  characters  as  are  least 
known.  "  An  Abraham  man.  A  Ruffeler.  A  Pryg- 
man.*     A  Whipiacke.     A  Frater.f    A  Quire  bird. J 

•  "  A  prygman  goeth  with  a  stycke  in  hys  hand  like  an  idle 
person.  His  propertye  is  to  steale  cloathes  of  the  hedge,  which 
they  call  storing  of  the  rogeraan:  or  els  filtch  poultry,  carrying 
them  to  the  alehouse,  whych  they  call  the  bowsyngin,  &  ther  syt 
playing  at  cardes  and  dice,  tyl  that  is  spent  which  they  haue  so 
iylched." 

f  "  A  frater  goeth  wyth  a  like  [a  counterfeit]  llsence  to  beg 
for  some  spittle  house  or  hospital.  Their  pray  is  co'monly  vpo" 
poore  women  as  they  go  and  come  to  the  markets." 

X  "  A  quire  bird  is  one  that  came  lately  out  of  pi  ison,  &  goeth 
to  seeke  seruice.  He  is  co'monly  a  stealer  of  horses',  which  they 
terme  aprigger  of  paulfreys."  Harmangivesa  long  account  of  "a 
prygger  oi prauncers." 

An 


14 

An  vpright  man.  A  Curtail.  A  Palliard.  An  Irishe 
toyle.  Alack  man.  ASwygman.*  AWashman.f 
ATinkard.  A  wylde  Roge.  A  Kitchen  Co.  A  Kitchen 
Mortes.     Doxes.     A  Patriarke  Co."  J 

The  company  of  Coiisoners  and  Shifters  consists  of  "  a. 
Curtesy  man.  A  Cheatour  or  Fingerer.    ±\  Ring  faller." 

"  ^  J  Curtesy  man. 

"  A  Curtesy  man  is  one  that  walketh  about  the  back  lanes 
in  London  in  the  day  timCj  and  sometime  in  the  broade 
streeles  in  the  night  season,  and  when  he  meeteth  some  hand- 
some yong  man  cienely  apareled,  or  some  other  honest  citizen, 
he  maketh  humble  salutatio"s  and  low  curtesy,  and  sheweth 
him  ihat  he  hath  a  worde  or  tvyo  to  speake  with  his  master- 
ship. This  child  can  beliaue  hira  selfe  manerly,  for  he  wyll 
desire  him  that  he  talkeih  withall  to  take  the  vpper  band,  and 
;hew  him  much  reuerence,  and  at  last,  like  his  familier  ac- 
quaintauncf.,  will  put  on  his  cap,  and  walke  syde  by  syde  and 
talke  on  this  fashion  :  oh,  syr,  you  seeme  to  be  a  man,  and 
one  that  fauoureth  men,  and  therefore  J  am  the  more  bolder 
to  breake  my  mind  vnto  your  good  maistership.  Thus  it  is, 
iyr,  ther  is  a  certaine  of  vs  (though  J  say  it,  both  taule  and 
landsome  meu  of  theyr  hands,)  which  haue  come  lately  from 
;he  wars,  and  as  God  knoweth  haue  nothing  to  take  to,  being 
30th  maisterks  and  moniles,  &  knowing  no  Way  wherby  to 
K-erne  one  peny.  And  further,  wher  as  we  haue  bene  welthely 
Drought  vp,  and  we  also  haue  beene  had  in  good  eslimatio", 
.ve  are  a  shamed  now  to  declare  our  misery,  and  to  fall  a  crau- 
ng  as  common  beggers,  and  as  for  to  steale  and  robbe,  (God 
s  our  recorde')  it  strikcth  vs  to  the  hart  to  thinke  of  such  a 
nischiefe  that  euer  any  handsome  man  should  fall  into  such  a 
launger  for  thys  worldly  trash.  Which  if  we  had  to  sufEse  our 

*  "  A  swygman  goeth  with  a  pedlers  pack." 

t  "  A  washman  is  called  a  palliard,  but  not  of  the  right  making. 
^e  vseth  to  lye  in  the  hyc  way  with  lame  or  sore  legs,  or  armes  to 
leg.  These  me"  y^  right  pilliaids  wil  often  times  spoile,  but  they 
tare  not  cd'playn.  They  be  bitten  with  Spick  worts,  &  somtime 
pvith  rats  bane."  It"  a  table  of  precedence  were  drawn  out,  I 
hould  place  the  senior  members  of  this  community  in  the  foUow- 
ng  order.  ,.  an  upright  man.  2..  a  ruffler.  3.  a  curtail.  4.  a  jack- 
nan.  5.  a  patriarch  CO.  6.  a  palliard,  &c.  &c. 

t  "  A  patriarke  CO  doth  make  manages,  &  that  is  vntiU  death 
lep.irt  the  maned  folke,  which  is  after  this  sort:  when  they  come 
o  a  dead  horse,  or  any  dead  catell,  then  they  shake  hands  and  so 
lepart  euery  one  of  them  a  seuerall  way.'' 

want 


15 

want  and  necessity,  we  should  neuer  seeke  thus  shamefastly  to 
craue  on  such  good  pityfull  men  as  you  seeme  to  be,  neither 
yet  so  daungerously  to  hasarde  our  Hues  for  so  vyle  a  thing. 
Therefore,  good  syr,  as  you  seeme  to  be  a  handsome  man  your 
selfej  and  also  such  a  one  as  pitieth  the  miserable  ease  of  hand- 
some men,  as  now  your  eyes  and  countenaunce  sheweth  to 
haue  some  pity  vppon  this  my  miserable  compiainte  :  so,  in 
God's  cause  J  require  your  maistershyp  &  in  the  behalfe  of  my 
poore  afflicted  fellowes,  which  though  here  in  sight  they  cry 
not  with  me  to  you,  yet  where  soeuer  they  bee,  J  am  sure  they 
cry  vnto  God  to  moue  the  heartes  of  some  good  men  to  shew 
forth  their  liberality  in  this  behalfe.  All  which  &  J  with  them 
craue  now  the  same  request  at  your  good  masterships  hand. 
With  these  or  such  like  words  he  frameth  his  talke.  Now  if 
the  party  (which  he  thus  talketh  withall,)  profFereth'  hym  a 
peny  or  ii.d.  he  taketh  it,  but  verye  scornfully,  and  at  last 
speaketh  on  this  sorte:  Well,  syr,  your  good  will  is  not  to  be 
refused  :  but  yet  you  shall  vnderstand,  (goodsyr,)  that  this  is 
nothing  for  them  for  whom  J  do  thus  shamefastly  entreate. 
Alas,  syr !  it  is  not  a  groate  or  xii.d.  J  speake  for,  being  such 
a  company  of  seruiters  as  wee  haue  bene ;  yet,  neuertheles, 
God  forbid  J  should  not  receiue  your  gentle  offer  at  this  time, 
hoping  hereafter  through  your  good  motions  to  some  such  lyke 
good  gentleman  as  you  be,  that  J,  or  some  of  my  fellowes  in 
my  place,  shall  finde  the  more  liberality.  These  kind  of  ydle 
uacabondes  wyll  go  commonly  well  appareled,  without  any 
weapon,  and  in  place  where  they  meeie  together,  as  at  their 
hosteryes  *  or  other  places,  they  wyll  beare  the  post  of  ryght 
good  gentlemen,  &  some  are  the  more  trusted  but  co'monly 
thai  pay  them  w'f  stealing  a  paire  of  sheetes,  or  coiierlet,  & 
so  take  their  farewell  earely  in  the  morning  before  the  raayster 
or  dame  be  stirring." 

A  cheatour  or  fingerer  is  nothing  more  than  a  decoy 
to  entrap,  unwary  persons  and  introduce  them  to  sharpers, 
in  order  to  be  pillaged  at  cards  or  dice.  "  Their  trade 
is  to  walke  in  such  places  where  as  gentelmen  &  other 
worshipfull  citizens  do  resorte,  as  at  Poules,  or  atChristes 
hospital,  &  somtime  at  y=  Royal  exchaunge." 

A  ring  faller  is  too  well  known  in  the  present  day  to 
make  any  description,  necessary.  It  is  only  surprising 
that  this  deception  which  has  been  carried  on  for  two 

*  Chaucer  and  Spencer  both  make  use  o{ hohterie  as  an  inn,  or 
placeof  reception  for  travellers. 

t  Sic. 

hundred 


i5 

hundred  and  forty-five*  years,  and  probably  much  longer, 
should  still  find  persons  sufficiently  simple  to  become 
dupes  to  it. 

The  XXV  Orders  of  Knaues,"  which  conclude  the 
tract,  are  "  i.  Troll  andTrole  by.  2.  Trole  with.  3.  Trole 
hazard  of  trace.  4.  Trole  hazard  of  tritrace.  5.  Chafe 
Litter.  6.  Obloquium.  7.  Prince  I'ytcher.  8.  lefFrey 
Gods  Fo.  9.  Nichol  Hartles.  10.  Simon  soone  agon. 
II.  Grene  winchard.  13.  Proctour.  13.  Commitour  of 
Tidinges.  14.  Gyle  Hather.  15.  Bawde  Phisicke. 
16.  Mounch  present.  17.  Cole  prophet.  18.  Cory  fauele, 
19.  Dyng  thrift.  30.  Esen  Droppers.  21.  Coplogyke. 
22.  Vnthrifte.  23.  Vngracious.  24.  Nunquam.  25.  In- 
jratus." 

Explanations  of  a  few  of  these  singular  terms  shall  end 
;his  aVticle. 

"  Chafe  Litter  is  he  that  wyll  plucke  vp  the  fetherbed  or 
natrice,  and  pysse  in  the  bedstraw,  and  wyl  neuer  ryse  vn- 
;alled.  This  knaue  berayeth  many  tymes  in  the  corners  of 
lis  maisters  chamber,  or  other  places  inconuenient,  and  naaketh 
Jeane  hys  shooes  with  the  couerlet  or  curtaines. 

Obloquium  is  hee  tliat  wyll  take  a  tale  out  of  his  maisters 
nouth  and  tell  it  him  selfe.  He,  of  right,  may  be  called  a 
nalapert  knane. 

leffery  Gods  Fo  is  he  that  wil  sweare  &  maintaine  othes. 
This  is  such  a  lying  knaue  that  none  wil  beleue  him,  for  the 
nore  he  sweareth  y''  les  he  is  to  be  beleued. 

Proctour  is  he  that  will  tary  long,  and  bring  a  lye,  when 
lis  maister  sendeth  him  on  his  errand.  This  is  a  flibber  gibber^ 
inaue  that  doth  fayne  tales, 

Cory  fauel  t  is  he  that  wyl  lye  in  his  bed  and  cory  the  bed 
lordes  in  which  hee  lyeth  in  steede  of  his  horse.  This  slouthfuU 
;naue  wyll  buskill  §  and  scratch  when  he  is  called  in  the 
norning  for  any  hast. 

Dyng  thrift  is  he  that  wil  make  his  maisters'  horse  eate  pies 
nd  rybs  of  beefe  and  drinke  ale  and  wyne.  Such  false  knaues 
ift  tymes  will  sell  their  maisters'  meate  to  their  owne  profit." 

P.  B. 

»  The  first  edition  of  this  tract  was  in  1565. 

t  Hibber  gibber  I  conceive  to  mean  talkati've.  Minshew  calls 
ibbrish,  yihble  gabble. 

X  See  Piittenham  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  4to.   1589.  p.  154.. 

§  What  A»j/// signifies  is  not  so  easy,  at  this  time,  to  discover. 
obusk  in  the  Scottish  language  is  to  dress  or  attire.  It  may  here 
nean  to  delay,  to  dress  slouulj. 

Chronological 


17 


^   Chronological  List  of  the   Works,   in  verse  and 
prose,  of  George  Wither. 

[continued  from  vol.  i.  p.  4)10.] 

79.  "  Tuba  Pacifica.  Seasonable  precautions,  whereby 
is  sounded  forth  a  retreat  from  the  War  intended  be- 
tween England  and  the  United  Provinces  of  Lower 
Germany.  By  George  Wither;  a  lover  of  peace,  and 
heartily  well  auected  towards  both  nations.  8vo.  1664. 
Imprinted  for  the  Author,  and  is  to  b]e  disposed  of 
rather  for  Love  than  Money."  * 

This  begins: — "  An  ancient  Emhlern  (two  pitchers) 
relating  to  the  said  nations,  Si  collidimur,  frangimur. 
If  we  knock,  we  are  broke."  These  pitchers  are  England 
and  Holland.  The  Dutch  having  invaded  the  rights  of 
the  English  in  India  and  Africa,  the  Parliament  petitioned 
Charles  II.  to  make  reprisals,  which  was  done  upon 
their  merchant-ships;  and  war  was  declared  against 
them  in  March  1664-5.  Wither,  before  this  event  took 
place,  blew  the  metrical  trump  of  pacification,  but  with 
a  tone  that  was  little  likely  to  be  heard,  and  still  less  to  be 
regarded.  Yet  some  of  his  political  monitions  are  valuable. 

"  If  wrongs  are  done,  let  all  good  means  be  us'd 
To  judge  between  th'  accuser  and  accus'd. 
Ere  sentence  pa^s :  and  do  not  then  prolong 
Due  recompense  to  them  who  have  had  wropg. 
Ere  battle  you  begin,  let  peace  be  offer'd ; 
Accept  a  good  expedient,  when  'tis  profFer'd. 
Make  not  the  sword  your  umpire,  till  you  see 
A  remedy  no  other  way  can  be : 
Yet  to  avoid  the  mischief  and  the  curse 
Of  war,  make  not  a  peace  that  shall  be  worse." 

While  employed  ori  this  tract,  he  says 

"  .    '"       there  doth  appear 

A  blazing  star  within  our  hemisphere."    , 

*  Qh.  whether  given  away,  or  disposed  of  at 'a  very  loiv  price  ? 
The  tr.ict  was  not  fcnieWn  to  Wood-. 

VOL.  II.  c  This 


19 

This  must  have  been  the  comet,  visible  in  Nov.  1664; 
>h  the  alarm  excited  by  which  he  thus  reasons. 

,€  , , ,       I      this  exhalation  doth  portend 
Sorae  judgment  on  offenders  will  destend 
Ere  long,  to  make  them  watchful,  and  prepare 
To  do  those  duties  which  expected  are. — 
He  that  is  so  affected,  seldom  fears 
The  influence  of  comets,  .or  of  stars  5 
Whereas,  they  who  in  folly  are  benighted. 
Oft  with  a  harmless  glow-worm  are  affrighted."  * 

80.  "  A  Memorandum  to  London.  Occasioned  by  the 
pestilence  there  begun,  this  present  year  MDCLXV: 
and  humbly  ofTered  to  the  Lord-Maior,  Aldermen,  and 
Commonalty  of  the  said  City.  By  George  Wither. 
Thereto  is  by  hini  added,  a  Warning-piece  to  London, 

•  He  then  proceeds  to  speak  of  himself,  with  an  egotism  that 
jecomes  more  interesting  to  modern  readers  than  all  that  concerns 
the  local  events  of  the  turbid  time  in  which  he  wrote  : 
"  Thus  far,  my  mind  I  have  once  more  exprest, 
And  hopeful  am  ere  long  to  be  at  rest 
From  all  my  labours.:  for  my  life,  almost, 
To  bring  this  seasonably  forth,  it  cost. 

But  some  perhaps  will  now  say — what  is  he 
That  your  Remepibranter  presumes  to  be  ? 
To  those  I  make  this  answer : — I  am  one 
Who  stands  instead  of  such  a  block  or  stone. 
As  Charity  did  set  up  heretofore 
By  high-way  sides,  and  sometimes  at  each  door, 
To  save  men  from  the  violent  approaches 
Of  drunken  horse-men,  waggons,  carts,  and  coaches  ; 
And  in  that  service  often  are  abused,  f  bruised, 

Curs'd,  broken,  hackt,  trackt,  cut,  slasht,  knockt,  and 
By  those  who,  stumbling  on  them,  heedless  are 
To  what  good  purpose  they  were  fixed  there. — 

If  you  consider  these  things  as  you  ought, 
And  shall  not  be  displeas'd  to  bear  them  brought 
Thus  bluntly  to  remembrance,  I  have  hope 
I  may  stilj  'scape  the  gallows  and  the  rope 
For  speaking  truths  in  season,  unto  them 
Who  their  well-willers  causelessly  condemn; 
And  from  their  native  countries  banish  those. 
For  whose  sakes  God  hath  kept  them  from  their  foes." 
Wither  seems  frequently  to  have   written  with   Tyburn  or 
transportation  in  his  immediate  view,  yet  without  any  relaxation 
of  his  censorial  rigour. 

discharged 


19 

discharged  out  of  a  loophole  in  the  Tower,  upon  medi- 
tating the  deplorable  Fier  which  consumed  the  house 
of  an  eminent  Citizen,  with  all  the  persons  and  goods 
therein,  at  the  beginning  of  t)ur  most  joyful  festival, 
in  December  1662.  Also,  a  Single  Sacrifice  offered 
to  Almighty  God,  by  the  same  Author  in  his  lonely 
confinement,  for  prevention  of  the  Dearth  feared,  and 
probably  portended,  by  immoderate  raines  in  June 
and  July,  1663.  Moreover,  in  regard  many  have  re- 
ported and  believed  this  Author  to  be  dead,  we  have 
annexed  his  Epitaph,  made  by  Himself  upon  that  oc- 
casion." Ver.  8vo.  1665. 

In  the  pestilence  of  1625,  which  swept  away  more  than 
35,000  persons,  within  the  bills  of  mortality.  Wither 
first  sounded,  in  the  desolate  streets  of  London,*  that 
warning-voice  which  would  have  roused  its  remaining 
inhabitants  to  serious  thought  and  moral  reformation. 
Of  course  he  was  slighted  as  a  superstitious  alarmist. 
Not  discomfited  however  by  unsuccess,  he  again  mounts 
his  watch-tower  of  observation,  at  the  distance  of  forty 
years ;  and  during^  the  terrific  and  more  calamitous 
plague  of  1665,  he  renews  his  solemn  exhortations  to  the 
Londoners,  that  they  would  improve  each  favour  and 
deliverance  of  their  Almighty  Preserver,  to  the  advance- 
ment of  his  glory,  and  to  the  charitable  relief  of  such  of 

•  Which,  as  an  act  of  conscience,  he  forbore  to  quit. 

"  During  that  phgue,  not  one  night,  all  the  while 
Remov'd  I  thence,  the  distance  of  a  mile: 
Or  shunned  either  person,  place,  or  sight. 
Which  me  experimentally  then  might 
Acquaint  with  any  thing,  whereby  to  learn' 
My  Duty,  or  what  would  my  work  concern." 

With  the  same  temper  and  principles  he  meets  ;he  second  Visi- 
{^icn  of  the  Plague  at  London, 

II  ______  and  this  (he  says)  indineth  me 

To  send  these  Memorandums  now  to  thee ; 

Intending,  in  thy  sickness,  here  to  stay 

Once  more,  when  thy  false  lovers  fly  away: 

And  in  or  near  thy  borders  to  remain, 

Till  God  restores  thee  unto  health  again  ; 

Or  till  by  beings  quite  deserted  here, 

I  shall  be  forc'd  to  seek  my  bread  elsewhere.'' 

c  3  their 


leir  fellow-creatures  as  were  in  want— instead  of  lui- 
rofitably   squandering   their   superfluous   money    upon 
.oisy  rejoicings,  as  is  usually  the  case  at  all  public  fes- 
ivities.     Hence  he  observes,  with  much   poignancy  ot 
atire,  manly  sense,  and  humane  indignation  ot  teeling, 
"  It  is  no  beseeming  Thank-oblation 
For  mercies,  when  a  city  or  a  nation. 
Shall  solemnize  it  with  but  little  else 
Save  gun-shot,  bonfires,  jangling  of  the  bells. 
Or  making  others  of  their  joys  partakers. 
Only  in  smoke  and  stink  of  squibs  and  crackers; 
Or  gathering  rude  throngs  of  men  and  boys. 
To  make  about  those  flames  a  barb'rous  noise; 
Which  must  be  fed  v/ilh  fewel  fore' d  from  some, 
Who  had  none  left  to  make  afire  at  home:' 
From  a  prose  PS.  to  this  piece,  it  appears  that  some 
jf  Wither's  civic  friends,   after  the  publication  of  his 
■«  Britain's  Remembrancer,"  had   proposed,   when  the 
Dffice  became  vacant,  to  have  the  City-Rememlrancer^ 
ikip  conferred  on  him:  but  the  proposal  failed.     His 
"  Warning-piece    to  London,"  *   was   written   in    the 
Tower,  1662,  and  has  less  pith  than  is  usual.     In  his 
"  Single  Sacrifice,"  he  complains  that  he  was  not  siif*- 
Fered  to  present  a  prayer  to  the  King,  Lords,  or  Parlia- 
ment :  he  therefore  prefers'  his  petition  to  the  throne  of 
grace!  This  was   meditated  and  composed   during  the 
Author's  close  confinement  in  the  Tower,  1663.     It  is 
followed  by  "  a  precaution  relating  to  the  time  present, 
June  15,  1665."     To  this  succeeds  "  the  Author's  Epi- 
taph:" f  most  of  which  has  been  printed  in  the  Bib- 
liographer, I.  16.     And  the  tract  closes  with  "a 
petitionary  meditation  on  the  behalf  of  F.  S.  the  author's 
much  honoured  and  charitable  friend,   then  visited  by  a 
languishing  sickness."     This  well  sustains  the  character 
of  being  earnestly  supplicative,  and  meekly  pious. 

*  This  "  Warning-piece"  was  occasioned  by  a  sudden  fire 
which  happened  during  the  night,  at  Lothbury,  in  the  city  of 
London ,  and  consumed  the  house  of  a  citizen,  with  all  its  tenants. 

f  This  has  a  "  Preface"  and  an  "  Epilogue:"  in  the  latter  he 
states  his  apprehension  that  the  "  Epitaph"  will  need  a  larger 
stone  than  liis* estate  can  buy,  to  write  it  on. 

8 1'. 


■2  I 

8i.  "■  Tlire6  private  Meditations :  which  being 'for  the 
most  part  of  publick  concernment,  are  therefore  pub- 
lished by  their  Author,  George  Wither.  Thq  first  is 
a  private  Thanksgiving,  consisting  of  three  Hymns, 
whereby  God  is  iriagnified  for  his  mercy  vouchsafed,  in 
the  late  Ingagement  between  the  English  and  the 
Dutch  in  June  1665 :  composed  after  celebrating  the 
publick  Thanksgiving  commanded  by  the  King.  The 
second  is,  a  sacrifice  of  praise  and  prayer  by  him  offered 
to  Almighty  God  for  his  providential  respect  to  Him, 
his  Wife,  and  Children,  during  his  Imprisonment  in 
the  disgraceful  goal  of  Newgate,  when  left  destitute  of 
all  ordinary  means  of  subsistence,  by  being  deprived 
both  of  his  estate  and  liberty.  The  third,  intituled 
Nil  Ultra,  is  a  Soliloquium,  wherein  this  Author  ex- 
presses the  improbability  of  an  effectual  proceeding 
further,  to  prevent  the  Sins  and  Plagues  increasing, 
by  ought  which  he  can  offer  to  consideration.  Re- 
printed ki  the  year  1666.  8vo.  Ver. 

First  printed  in  1665,  and  includes  a  prose  address  to 
his  "  dearly  beloved  Children,"  dated  from  Newgate, 
Feb.  15,  1662;  which  is  followed  by  a  poem  from  New- 
gate, with  a  pr-ose  advertisement  from  his  "  house  in  the 
Savoy,  June  1665."  In  the  latter  he  says — "  When 
that  private  poem  was  taken  from  me,  for  which  I  am 
now  a  prisoner,  many  printed  books,  writings,  and  evi- 
dences, being  my  proper  goods,  were  therewith  unlaw- 
fully taken  away;  among  which  there  was  a  manuscript 
in  verse  intituled  "  A  Legacy  to  my  Cldldren;"  consist- 
ing (as  I  remember)  of  about  three  or  four  sheets, 
wlierein  that  which  is  prayed  for  in  the  preceding  Medi- 
tation, in  relation  to  my  posterity,  was  much  enlarged. 
And  this  Advertisement  is  inserted,  in  hope  one  of  those 
to  whose  hand  it  may  come,  will  be  a  means  of  restoring 
unto  me,  both  that  MS.  and  an  Elegy,  which  was  also 
therewith  taken  from  me.  i  would  be  thanl:ful  to  the 
.restorer.''-  The  tract  closes  with  a  brief  "  Defence"  in 
ansvv-er  to  private  Objections  made  against  some  passages 
in  the  Author's  writincrs.* 

82. 

.   *   In  this  he  brJePiy  dfciares  the  Christ'an  p!-0''"f'.3'-.ions  ?nd  toie- 
Jotiiig  practice  oi  bii  crctcl.      "It   i;   qntstioiicd   l)y  some  what  I 

c    i  am 


52 

!2.  "Meditations  upon,  the  Lord's  Frayer:  with  a 
preparatory  preamble,  to  the  right  understanding  and 
true  use  of  this  pattern.  Contemplated  by  the  Author, 
during  the  time  wherein  his  House  was  visited  by  the 
Pestilence,*    1665:    and  is   dedicated   to  them,   by 

whose 

im  as  to  religion,  and  of  what  society  I  profess  myself  to  be?" 
iVhereto  I  answer,  that  I  profess  myself  a  Catholick  Chnstinii. 
Vlistake  me  not:  I  do  net  mean  a  Roman  Catholick  ;  which  are 
erms  contradictory  to  themselves,  being  so  united  ;  beca-use  the 
iddition  of  Roman  to  Catholick,  destroys  that  denomination.  I 
iin  a  menibei-  of  that  Church  which  is  universal,  and  of  every  par- 
;icular  Church  in  those  places  where  I  reside,  so  far  forth  only, 
md  no  further,  as  it  is  a  member  of  the  Church- Catholick,  pro- 
"essing  and  practising  in  purity  the  faith,  doctrine  and  discipline 
:herpof. — I  separate  from  no  Church,  adhering  to  the  foundations 
jf  Christianity. -r-Onrnational  Church  was  my  first  nurse,  and  I 
:onfess,  with  thankfulness,  I  from  thence  first  drew  nourishments, 
itrengther.ing  me  towards  eternal  liTe.  I  had  there  also  dry  nurses, 
some  of  which  fed  me  wholesomely,  and  some  to  the  endangering 
•ny  being  poisoned  or  starved.  But  I  have  but  one  spiritual 
mother,  which  is  the  Catholick  Church  aforementioned. — I  am 
not  of  Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or  of  any  society,  but  as  they 
jre  of  Christ  Jesus I  can  communicate  with  any  professing  be- 
lief in  Christ  Jesus,  either  in  humiliations,  thank.sgivings,  break- 
ing of  bread  in  commemoration  of  our  Saviour's  passion,  or  in 
prayer  :  where  nothing  is  so  practised  that  it  derogates  from  the 
honour  of  God,  or  is  contrary  to  the  canon  of  his  wprd,  &c." 
These  sentiments  spem  to  range  him  with  the  Independents ; 
but  Wood  pronounces  him  a  Presbyterian  satirist. 

*  The  dedication  of  this  book,  to  the  Author's  Christian 
friends,  is  dated  from  the  "Savoy,  Dec.  30,  1665."  In  April 
the  Plague  revealed  itself,  and  in  June  it  appears  he  had  escaped 
contagion;  for  he  says  in  his  "Memorandum  to  London,"  p.  iS. 
"  God  be  praised  !  pot  so  jmiich  as  one  hr.th  been  sick  of  any 
disease  in  my  hpuse,  since  the  Plague  began  ;  nor  is  it,  to  my 
knowledge,  near  my  habitation."  But  afterwards  it  appears  that 
he  had  been  a  sufferer  by  this  dreadful  calamity  ;  and  bore  it  with 
his  habitual  firmness  ;  as  a  Preamble  to  this  book  states:  "  During 
the  great  mortality  yet  continuing,  and  wheiein  God  evidently 
visited  his  own  houshold,  my  little  family,  consisting  of  three 
persons  only,  was  visited;  and  1,  witji  my  dear  consort,  long  de- 
tained in  daily  expectation  of  God's  divine  purpose  concerning 
pur  persons;  yet  with  confidence,  whether  we  were  smitten  or 
spared,  Jived  or  died,  it  would  be  in  mercy:  for  having  nothing 
Jeft  to  m.ike  us  in  love  with  this  world,  we  had  placed  onr  best 
hopes  in  the  world  to  come."  With  a  versatility  of  thought,  less 
peculiar  to  Wither  than  to  human  nature,  he  soon  af'te  ■  expresses 
{lips? 'f?  llH^  a  fturdy  be^ger,  in  terms  of'  ji'lmost  dratjntic  levity : 

"  ^'hea 


23 

whose  charity  God  preserved  him  and  his  family  from 
perishing  m  their  late  Troubles. 

That  which  we  have,  we  are  oblig'd  to  give. 
In  recompence  of  that  which  we  receive  j 
And  with  some  this  will  relish,  though  it  be 
Fruit  gather'd  from  an  aged  JVither'd  tree. 

Many  particulars  pertinent  to  these  last  times,  are 
humbly  offered  to  consideratipnj  by  the  said  Authour, 
George  Wither. 

Legite,  et  perlegite. 

Read  all,  lest  wrong,  by  prejudice  ensue. 
Either  unto  this  Author,  or  to  you : 
For  since  all  cannot  be  exprest  together, 
One  place  must  often  help  expound  another, 

London,  printed  in  the  year  1665."  Pr.  8vo. 

Walkley  the  stationer  had  put  forth  a  concise  version 
of  the  Lord's  Prayer  by  Wither,  at  the  end  of  his  Works, 
1620.  These  Meditations  on  the  same  Christian  and 
Catholic  pattern  of  prayer  and  praise,  were  composed  in 
his  solitary  seclusion  during  the  great  Plague  of  London. 
"  Providence  (he  says)  then  inclined  my  heart  to  con- 
template ihe  foresaid  Prayer,  when  I  seemed  but  ill  ac- 
commodated to  prosecute  such  an  undertaking;  for  it 
v.as  in  the  eleventh  climactcrical  year  of  my  life,  and 
when,  beside  other  bodily  infirmities,  I  vi'as  frequently 
assaulted  with  such  as  were  perhaps  pestilential  symp- 
toms; and  the  keeping  of  two  fires  requiring  more  than 
my  income  seemed  likely  long  to  maintain,  1  prosecuted 
my  Meditations  all  the  day-time,  even  in  that  room 
wherein  my  family  and  all  visitants  talked  and  dispatched 
their  affairs,  yet  was  neither  diverted  nor  discomposed 
thereby:  but,  by  God's  assistance,  finished  my  under^ 
taking  within  a  short  time  after  the  recovery  of  my  ser- 

"  when  I  sought  the  vfoild,  I  lost  it,  with  all  I  had  therein;  so 
that  it  God  had  not  inclined  his  servants  to  provide  for  me,  I 
might  truly  have  sung  this  old  catch — 

"  Now  I  am  a  gallant;  for  ray  friends  have  left  me  i 

Neither  money  in  my  pufse,  i^or  a  rstg  to  shift  me." 

c  4  vant. 


vant  (whose  life  God  spared) ;  not  gathering  ought,  as 
bees  do,  from  flowers  growing  withe i)t  me;  but  spinning 
out,  like  the  silk-worm,  that  only  which  God  had  stored 
up  within  me.  And  having  put  into  words,  that  which 
was,  as  it  were,  disiilled  on'  of  my  heart  by  fire,  (as  were 
my  Remembrances  lo  this  nation  in  the  great  Pesii'ence 
this  time  forty  years,)  I  do  now,  as  a  testimonial  of  my 
thankfulness,  bequeath  it  to  mv  friends,  by  whose  charity 
I  was  then  and  heretofore  seasonably  furnished  with  such 
necessaries  as  have  hitherto  preserved  me  and  mine 
from  likely  ruin  :  and  in  the  first  place  offer  it  for  a 
thank-oblation  to  God."  Wither  had  well  prepared  his 
mind  for  such  an  oblation  by  his  former  scriptural  studies, 
and  by  the  tenor  of  these  comments.  At  the  close  he 
idds,  "  a  new  version  of  our  Lord's  Prayer,"  which  I 
subjoin. 

"  Our  Father,  who  in  heaven  doth  reside. 
Thy  name  for  evermore  be  sanctified. 
Thy  kingdom  come.     Thy  will  on  earth  be  done 
Even  as  it  is  in  heaven,  by  every  one. 
This  present  day  with  daily  bread  relieve  usj 
As  others  we  forgive,  our  sins  forgive  us : 
And  when  thou  leadest  us  into  temptation. 
From  evil  then  vouchsafe  us  preservation. 
For  thine  the  kingdom,  power,  and  glory  be 
For  ever  :  and  belong  to  none  but  thee."  * 

^*  On  a  few  succeeding  pages  follows  "  a  Hymn  of  Praise  to 
3oD,  for  his  abatement  of  the  late  raging  pestilence;  containing 
lOme  cautionary  acknowledgments  cf  our  undeserving  so  great  a 
nercy :"  and  the  volume  concludes  with  five  stanzas  intended  for 
nsertion  in  his  "  Waining-piece  to  London,"  mentioned  at  p. 
tSj  but  being  in  manuscript  in  the  hands  of  friends,  they  were 
lot  recovered  till  after  the  tract  itself  was  printed.  I  -inseit 
tanza  i. 

"  Our  seeming  pious  Holy  Days 
In  which  the  vulgar  much  delight. 
Are  kept  as  little  to  God's  praise. 
As  heathenish  Bacchanalian  rite. 
The  fast-days  which  thou  dost  pretend 
in  honour  of  our  Saviour's  birth. 
Thou  dost  in  lawless  gaming  spend. 
In  drunken  liot  and  vain  mirth; 
Whertas,  if  thou  hadstfed  the  poor. 
Thy  feasting  him  would  honour  more  '' 

83- 


55 

• 

83.  "  Sighs  for  the  Pitchers :  breathed  out  in  a  perso- 
nal Contribution  to  the  national  Humiliation  the  last 
of  May,  1666;  in  the  cities  of  London  and  West- 
minster, upon  the  near  approaching  Engagement  then 
expected  between  the  English  and  Dutch  Navies. 
Wherewith  are  complicated  such  Musings  as  were  oc- 
casioned by  a  report  of  their  actual  Engagement  :  and 
by  observing  the  publicke  rejoycing  whilst  this  was 
preparing  by  the  author,  George  Wither.  Imprinted 
in  the  sad  vear  expressed  in  this  ireasonable  chrono- 
gram LorD  haVe  MerCIeVponVs."  Ver.  1666.  8vo. 

In  the  title-page  of  this,  as  in  "  Tuba  Pacifica,"  is 
an  emblem  of  two  pitchers,  for  England  and  Holland, 
with  an  inscription  between — "  If  ye  knock,  ye  are 
broke:  unless  God  prevent."  Then  follows  a  short  ad- 
dress to  the  English  nation  and  to  every  individual  person 
within  the  British  isles.  The  poem  itself  is  long,  desul- 
tory, and  little  interesting!  and  with  less  pretension 
perhaps  thati  any  of  Wither's  rhyming  productions  to  be 
called  a  poem.  The  following  allusion  to  himself  and 
his  writings  is  the  only  passage  that  invited  transcrip- 
tion. 

"  I  had  some  education  in  the  schools. 

But  my  best  touchstone  came  another  way; 
And  neither  to  the  wisest,  nor  meer  fools. 

Is  that  intended,  which  I  have  to  say. 
My  Muse  is  to  a  middling  temper  fitted. 

What  suits  with  tht-ir  capacities  to  write. 
Who  (not  much  undt-r  nor  much  over  witted) 

More  in  the  matter  than  the  words  delight. 

By  that  means,  when  with  trifles  I  begin. 
Things  useful  are  oft  thereby,  screw  ed  in  ; 
Which,  peradventure,  had  r,ot  else  been  sought 
Where  they  appear'd  more. likely  to  be  taught: 
So  sometimes,  twenty  businesses  are  done 
By  him,  who  went  from  home  to  do  but  one," 

84.  "  Ecchoes  from  the  sixth  Trumpet.  Reverberated 
by  a  review  of  neglected  Remembrances,  abrevialing 
precautions  and  predictions  heretoftire  published  at 
several  times,  upon  sundry  occajions;  to  forewarn 
Vihat  tl<e  future  effects  of  Divine  Justice  would  be,  as 

soon 


:4V 

soon  as  our  Siuiies  were  full  ripe,  if  not  prevented  by 
timely  repentance.  Most  part  of  the  predictions  have 
been  already  seen  or  heard  verified,  both  by  the 
Author,  yet  living,  and  by  many  others  who  observed 
at  what  times,  in  what  rnanner,  upon  what  persons, 
and  in  what  places  they  were  literally  or  mystically 
fulfilled.  Collected  out  of  the  said  Author's  printed 
books,  who  conscientiously  observed  on  what  divine 
prophesies  the  said  predictions  were  grounded  ;  as 
also  God's  late  frequent  intermixture  of  Judgments  and 
Mercies  to  reclaim  this  generation.  The  first  part.  * 
Imprinted  in  the  year  chronogrammically  expressed  in 
this  seasonable  prayer  LorD  haVe  MerCIe  Vpon  Vs." 
1666.  Ver.  and  Pr.  8vo. 

This  had  a  second  title  of  "  Nil  Ultra,"  in  1668,  and 
I  third  of  "  Fragmenta  Prophetica,  f  or  the  remains 
>f  George  Wither,  Esq."  in  1669,  being  the  last  work 
>f  the  Author,  and  collected  by  his  own  hand  a  little  be- 
bre  his  death,  in  1667.  His  Preface  is  biographically 
■etrospective.  He  was  thirteen  years  old  (he  tells  us) 
,vben  Queen  Elizabeth  reigned ;  (or  rather  ceased  to 
reign)  i.e.  in  1603.  "  He  came  into  the  world  at  a  time 
ivh\ch  gave  him  such  an  experimental  knowledge  both  of 
God  and  men,  as  he  could  not  have  had  in  many  pre- 
:eding  generations;  for  he  hath  lived  to  see  eleven  signal 
:hanges,  in  which  not  a  few  signal  transactions  provi- 
Jentially  occurred:  to  wit,  under  the  government  of 
3ueen  Elizabeth,  King  James,  Charles  I.  the  King  and 
Parliament  together;  the  Parliament  alone,   the  Armv, 

•  Colophon  I  "  A  second  part.  sli.lll  be  added,  as  God  enables 
md  permits."     This  was  prevented  by  the  death  of  Wiiher. 

f.  With  thi,"!  seems  to  have  been  published  rera  FJni^irs  Gcoig^i 
Wither,  Armigeri,  qui  obiii  Anno  1667,  .€tat.  su<r  79,  a  hureated 
Dortrait  in  armour,  with  a  military  scarf,  and  the  tollowjiig  lints 
underneath : 

"  The  shaddow  of  the  body's  here  design'd, 
Because  w  e  know  not  how  to  draw  the  mind 
Ot  h  m,  who  soe  exactly  did  presa£;e 
The  greatest  changes  of  this  latter^age: 
And  'tis  an  ill  sign  of  our  doeing  well. 
When  those  are  gon  who  us'd  our  sign?  to  tell," 

Oliver 


57 

Oliver  Cromwell,  Richard  Cromwell,  a  Council  of  State, 
the  Parliament  again,  and  now  King  Charles,  the  Second: 
during  all  which  times  he  lived  in  those  places,  and  in 
such  middling  stations,  which  gave  him  opportunity  to 
heed  what  was  done.by  those  who  were  above  and  below 
him.    God  had  also  bestowed  upon  him  a  faculty,  which 
(though  it  be  despised,  and  he  therewith  but  meanly  en- 
dowed) would  not  permit  him   to  be  altogether  idle  or 
silent ;  for  it  compelled  him  to  a  conscientious  "exercise 
of  his  talent  in  that  which  he  thought  required  at  his 
hand;  and    to  take  all  occasions  to  commemorate  and 
offer  to  consideration  those  things  whereby  God  might 
be  glorified,  and  his  countrymen  benefited  in  some  de- 
gree: which  duty,  though  not  so  well  as  he  would,  he 
hath  so  well  as  he  could,  prosecuted  to  this.  day.     He 
begun  very  early,  by  expressing  and  publishing  those 
conceptions  which  the  affections  and  inclinations  of  youth 
had  awakened  in  him:  endeavouring  to  season  them  with 
as  much  morality  and  piety  as  subjects  of  that  nature 
are  capable  of;  suiting  them  to  capacities  of  young  men 
who  delight    to  see  their  own   natural  passions  repre- 
sented as  it  were  in  a  glass;  wherein  they  not  only  met 
with  some  better  things  than  tliey  looked  for,  but  \\ith 
such   notions   also   therewith  mixed,  as  insinuated  into 
rheir  hearts  that  seasoning,  which  made  them  much  de- 
lighted with  his  poems,   and   rendered   him  so  generally 
known,  that  many  thousands  were  desirous  to  peruse  his 
future  writings,  and  to  take  better  heed  of  that  whereof 
else  perhaps  they  had  taken  little  or  no  notice,  though 
expressed  by  a  more  elegant  and  learned  auihor.    Length 
oi  time  hath  given  him  so  many  several  occasions  to  de- 
clare what  he  thought  necessary  or  expedient,  that  his 
published  poems  and  writings  amount  now  to  aboift  a 
hundred,  besides  many  never  printed  ;  in  which,  though 
he  hath  exprest  much   to  the  same  purpose,   in  various 
forms  and  Nfords,  yet  the  same  or  like  occasions  warrant 
the  application  of  the  same,  or  like  matter  and  words, 
as  the'practise  of  the  holy  prophets  and   apostles   hatH 
evidenced   to   be  sometimes   lucessarv.     Wherefore  ho 
hath  endeavoured   lo  put  his  matter  into  such  a  dres-; 
(otherwhile  in  prose,  and  othcrwhile  in  a  poetical  mode) 
J;hat  it  may  suit  with  vulgar  capacities^  and  not  be  de- 
spised 


38 

spised  by  the  most  judicious :  mixing  so  far  forth  as  may- 
be decent,  delight  and  profit,  according  to  this  old  verse 
[of  Horace] 

"■  Etprodesse  solent,  et  delectare  poefa." 

His  presuming  to  give  counsel  to  them  who  neither  de- 
sire it  nor  care  for  his  advice,  hath  much  offended  many, 
and  made  them  heedless  of  that  which  might  have  pre- 
vented their  sorrow ;  but  it  hath  pleased  and  benefited 
some,  and  that  makes  him  slight  their  proverb,  which 
forbids  coming  to  give  counsel  before  we  are  called." 
He  proceeds  to  state  his  reasons  for  the  title  given  to  his 
present  book,  viz.  because  it  eclioes  to  what  was  pre- 
dicted should  come  to  pass  between  the  sounding  of  the 
sixth  and  seventh  trumpet,  upon  pouring  forth  the  sixth 
viol,  in  the  Revelations:  and  he  enters  into  much  mysti- 
cal jargon  on  the  Roman  numerals  of  the  year  1666, 
which  is  contemplated  as  the  final  doom  of  Rome's 
Babylon  and  the  papal  Antichrist.  He  then  describes 
himself  to  have  been  this  Isle's  Remembrancer,  and  to 
have  continued  within  the  city  of  London,  both  in  her 
sicknesses  and  health,  in  war  and  peace,  almost  sixty 
ffears  together;  taking  ail  occasions  that  offered,  to  re- 
member her  from  time  to  time  of  such  things  as  ^e 
;hought  might  probably  conduce  to  her  welfare;  though 
be  never  obtained  from  any  of  her  Chiefs  so  much  as 
might  have  been  expected  for  penning  one  speech  to  il- 
ustrate  her  Lord  Mayor's  pageants.  Being  now  wearied 
ind  almost  worn  out  in  such  profitless  employ,  he  pro- 
poses speedily  to  seek  a  retreating-place  for  himself  and 
lis  consort,  at  a  lonely  habitation  in  his  native  country; 
here  to  wait  upon  God's  future  dispensations  during  the 
emainder  of  his  life,  or  until  J'rovidence  otherwise 
hould  dispose  of  him:  not  doubting  that  he  shall  rest 
gratefully  contented  whatsoever  his  lot  msy  be.  This 
ntiraation  is  conveyed  in  his  Preface.  From'a  Postscript 
.t  the  end  of  the  volume,  we  find  that  his  plan  of  rural 
etirement  was  soon,  relinquished;  his  London  friends 
laving  persuaded  him  to  the  contrary,  from  thinking 
hat  future  inconvenience  would  thereby  be  rather  mul- 
iplied  than  diminished.     He  closed  his  literary  labours 

with 


29 

with  the  present  pnblicatiion,  and  his  adventurous  life  in 
the  succeeding  year. 

Most,  of  this  volume  is  a  compilation,  and  consists  of 
selected  extracts  from  his  own  performances.  But  one 
new  essay,  extending  to  fifteen  pages,  occurs  with  the 
following  title:  "An  Interjection,  occasioned  by  a 
sudden  Ejaculation  whijst  this  review  of  neglected  Re- 
membrances was  transcribing;  which  shall  here  stand 
inserted,  though  it  be  no  part  of  what  was  heretofore  ex- 
pressed or  intended  to  be  hereunto  added."  In  this  he 
religiously  trusts  to  be  honoured  with  a  celestial  record 
for  all  his  unrequited  efforts  as  a  national  and  moral 
monitor.  He  at  the  same  time  breathes  friendly  en- 
couragement to  his  fellow-citizens,  while  he  finally  ex- 
horts them  to  reform : 

"  When  penitence  brings  reformation  in. 
It  makes  a  blessing,  what  a  plague  had  been: 
Yea,  then  'twill  to  her  future  weal  be  tuni'd. 
That  this  great  City  was  to  ashes  burn'd., — 
SliBj  Phocnix-like,  shall  gloriously  arise. 
Out  of  that  rubbish  wherein  now  she  lies; 
And  I,  who  now  am  disrespected  here,  , 
Shall  have  a  monument  erected  there." 

85.  "  Mr.  Geo.  IVitJiers  Revived:  or  his  Prophesie  of 
our  present  Calamity,  arid  (except  we  repent)  future 
misery.  Written  by  him  in  the  year  1628.  London, 
printed  for  William  Marshall,  at  the  Bible  in  Newgate 
street,   1^83."  Single  sheets  folio.  ' 

At  N°  33  of  the  present  list  of  Wither's  productions, 
this  is  only  noticed  as  irientioned  by  Wood.  I  have 
since  seen  two  editions:  the' former  in  quarto,  with<a 
manuscript  dale  of  1642;  the  latter  in  folio,  vtilh  a 
■printed  date  of' 1683.  It  proves,  on  examination,  to 
-contain  a  selection  of  extracts  from  the  eighth  Canto  of 
.'•  Bi-itain's  Rfemembrancer,"  first- published  in  1&28: 
many  passages  in  which  publication  are  justly  described 
as  "-eminently  beautiful,"  by  Mr.  Brdyley.  See  Gent. 
Mag.  Vol.lxxx.  p.  217. 

'■86.  "  Divine  Poems  .\  by  way  of  paraphrase  on  the  Ten 
Commandments.      Illustrated    with    twelve    copper- 

..■■'..  plates; 


plates:  shewing  how  personal  punishments  have  been 
inflicted  on  the  transgresbors  of  these  Commandments; 
as  is  recorded  in  the  Holy  Scripture.  Never  before 
printed.  Also  a  metrical  paraphrase  upon  the  Creeds 
and  Lord's  Prayer.  Written  by  George  Wither,  Esq. 
author  of  Brittain's  Remembrancer."  Ver.  8vo.  1688. 

Wood  informs  us  this  was  first  entitled  Meditations 
m  the  Ten  Commandments.  It  was  republished,  or  at 
east  had  a  new  title-page,  in  1697,  and  again  in  1728: 
)ut  the  following  explanatory  prefix,  by  his  daughter  and 
mly  surviving  child,  did  not  reappear. 

'  To  all  such  as  have  formerly  leen  Friends  to  the 
Author. 

"  It  was  s_eldom  my  Father's  practice,  especially  of  late 
,ears,  to  dedicate  his  works  to  particular  or  great  per- 
sons; and  did  I  attempt  any  such  thing  now,  1  should 
DC  afraid  lest  1  might  disturb  his  rest  in  the  grave.  All 
f^ou  therefore  that  had  a  kindness  as  well  for  his  person 
is  his  works,  I  desire  to  accept  of  my  good-will  in  send- 
in"-  this  relique  of  his  abroad  in  publick,  which,  though 
it  hath  been  written  some  considerable  time,  is  but  lately 
minded,  or  come  to  hand.  And  however  it  happened  to 
be  bundled  up  with  other  old  writings  where  I  found  it, 
yet  I  verily  believe  it  was  designed  for  the  press,  by  those 
many  alterations  *  he  had  made,  which  so  blur'd  the 
original  copy,  that  1  was  forced  to  get  it  transcribed,  be- 
Fore  it  was  fit  for  myself  or  any  body  else  to  read.  And 
having  now  perused  it,  I  could  not  in  conscience  conceal 
such  necessary  truths  as  are  therein  contained,  in  hopes 
that  it  may  take  the  effect  himself  desires  in  his  Epistle 
to  the  reader,  exprest  in  his  prayer;  believing  that  that 
good  Spirit  which  first  dictated  those  petitionary  words 
will  accompany  them  to  the  world's  end.  And  then  I 
also  believe  that  what  I  have  done  in  making  this  pub- 
lick,  will  be  acceptable  both  to  God  and  man:  which 

*  This  goes  Rir  to  refute  the  sarcasm  on  Wiiher,  cited  by 
Granger  from  Dryden  ;  that  if  he  "  rhymed  andT.utled,  all  was 
well."  > 

that 


31 

that  it  may,  shall  ever  be  the  prayer  of  your  assured 
friend  in  all  offices  of  love  and  service. 

E.  E." 

"  From  my  lodgings  at  Mr.  Snowdens,  a  printer,  at  the  lower 
end  of  Great  Carter-Lane,  the  23d  of  April,  1688.*" 

An  address  written  by  Wither  himself,  denotes  this 
commentary  on  the  Decalogue  to  have  been  composed, 
during  the  visitation  of  the  great  plague,  in  some  obscure 
retreat,  where  neither  his  estate  nor  the  place  he  lived  in, 
could  afford  the  use  of  books;  instead  of  which  therefore 
he  perused  his  own  heart  to  see  what  he  could  read  there. 
"  For  in  the  heart  of  man  (he  argues)  the  holy  text  of 
God's  law  was  originally  written,  though  human  cor- 
ruption hath  now  so  defaced  it."  The  copper-plate,  made 
use  of  in  his  book,  Wither  acknowledges  to  have  re- 
ceived, among  other  kindnesses,  from  some  of  his  neigh- 
bours: but  we  are  advertised  by  his  daughter  that  the 
copper-plates  mentioned  by  her  father  were  lost  in  somfe 
of  his  removals  from  one  habitation  to  another,  so  that 
she  had  beeri  forced  to  get  new  ones  made.  These  are 
but  indifferently  executed^  from  very  indifferent  designs. 
Wither's  illustrations  are  written  in  twofold  measures, 
after  the  following  mode. 

"  V.  Honor  thy  Father  and  thy  Mother,  &c,  (Cut  of 
Absalom  hanging  on  a  tree,  S^c.J 

"  He  that  sought  his  Father's  death. 
Soilless  yielded  up  his  breath. 
He  that  would  his  prince  have  slain. 
Had  liis  pardon  sent  in  vain ; 
For  although  the  king  forgave, 
Justice  urg'd  her  due  to  have, 
That  rebellious  children  may 
Learn  this  pjecept  to  obey  ; 
And  the  subject  stand  in  awe 
How  he  sins  against  this  law. 

What  of  rebelling  subjects  will  become 

And  graceless  children,  view  in  Absalom  : 

For  whose  offence  the  earth  did,  as  it  were,  ' 

Refusal  make  the  body's  weight  to  bear. 

And  Heav'n  rejects  it :  that  they  might  present 

Him  hanging  for  a  dreadful,  monument : 

Through 


Through  ages  all,  to  warn  and  keep  in  awe 
The  slighters  and  infringers  of  this  law." 

His  paraphrastic  version  of  the  Creed,  &c.  had  long 
before  Been  printed.     See  note  on  N°  ii  of  this  List. 

T.  P. 

[To  be  icontinued.J 


Tl  Pan  his  Pipe:  conteyning  three pasiorall  Egloges  in 
Englyshe  hexameter;  with  other  delightfull  verses. 
London :  Imprinted  ly  Richard  Jones.  1595.  qto. 

The  title  of  this  book  was  gathered  from  the  Stationers' 
•egister  by  Mr.  Warton,  from  him  by  Mr.  Herbert,  and 
Tom  both  by  Mr.  Haslewood  in  the  British  Bib- 
ciOGEAPHER,  Vol.  I,  p.  501.  The  date,  according  to 
he  licence,  was  1594.;  but  a  copy  of  the  book  in  his 
Majesty's  library,  ascertains  it  to  have  been  published  in 
[595.  The  author  was  Francis  Sabie.  His  Introductory 
'■erses  to  the  first  Eclogue  are  not  unpleasing. 

"  It  was  in  the  moneth  of  May, 
All  the  fields,  now  looked  gay. 
Little  Robin  finely  sang, 
With, sweet  notes  each  green  wood  rang; 
Philomene,  forgetfuU  then 
Of  her  rape  by  Tereus  done. 
In  most  rare  and  joyful!  wise 
Sent  her  notes  unto  the  skies : 
Progne,  with  her  bloody  breast, 
'Gan  in  chimney  build  her  nest : 
Flora  made  each  place  excell 
With  fine  flowers,  sweet  in  smpll ; 
Violets  of  purple  hue. 
Primroses  most  rich  in  shew. 
Unto  which  with  speedie  flight 
Bees  did  flie  and  on  them  light. 
And  with  thyme  loading  their  thighs. 
Did  it  carry  to  their  hives  : 
Some  it  tooke  which  they  had  brought, 
And  in  combs  it  rarely  wrought. 

Fish 


33 

Fish  from  chrystall  waves  did  rise 
After  gnats  and  little  flies : 
Little  lambs  did  leape  and  play- 
By  their  dams  in  medowes  gayj 
And  as  soon  as  Lucifer 
Had  expelde  the  lesser  starres, 
Tyterus  and  Thirsis  hight. 
Through  a  lattice  seeing  light. 
Which  did  come  from  Ecus*  bright^ 
As  they  lay  in  drowsie  beds. 
Up  did  lift  their  sluggish  beads. 
Hasting  sheep  from  fouldes  to  let. 
Sheep,  which  bleated  fbr  their  meate, 
Greedilig  did  plucke  up  grasse. 
Sheep  let  out  from  place  to  place  j 
And  by  chance  as  heards  did  meet, 
Shepheards  did  each  other  greete. 
Thirsis  loolied  very  sad. 
As  he  some  ill  fortune  had, 
Tyterus  first  'gan  to  speake. 
And  his  mind  iti  this  sort  breake :"  &c.        T.  P. 


^  Julyan  Notary's  ad  Edition  of  Caxton's  Chronicle^ 
printed  in  1515. 

Colophon—"  Here  end«:th  this  present  Cronycle  of  En 
glonde  with  the  fruyte  of  tymes.  compyled  in 
A  booke.    And  also  newely  Enprynied  in  the  ye 
re  of  our  lorde  god.  M.CCCCC  &  XV.  by  me 
Julyan  Notary  dwellynge  in  Powlys  chyrche 
yarde  besyde  y^  westedore  by  my  lordes  palyes.'' 

It  consists  of  folios  cxxviii. 

"  The  Prologue,  f 

In  so  moche  that  it  is  necessary  to 
all  Creatures  of  Chrysten  Relygion 
or  of  fals  Relygyons  or  Gentyles  & 
raachomytes  to  knowe  theyr  pryn 
ce  or  Pryncis  that  regne  upon  the" 

*  A  misprint  probably  for  Eos  or  Eous,  i.  e.  Aurora. 

f  This  Prologue  was  first  added  by  •'  one  sometyme  schole- 
master,"  who  printed  the  Chronicles  at  St.  Albans,  14.8}.  As 
usual,  the  orthography  of  the  two  copies  varies  throughout.  A 
few  materiaLalterations  are  noticed. 

VOL.  ti.  B  &: 


34 

<k  y"  to  obey,  so  it  is  comodeus  to  knowe 
theyr  noble  acts  &  deedes,  &  the  cyrcu'staucc  of 
theyr  lyves.     Therfore  in  the  yere  of  oure  lor- 
de  M  CCCC  LXXXIII.  y''  yere  of  y'=  regne  of  kyn* 
ge  Edwarde  y=.  fourth  at  saynt  Albons,  so  that 
all  men  may  knowe  y"  actes  namely  of  our  no 
ble  kynges  of  Euglonde,  isco~pyled  togyder  i'^ 
ihys  boke,  &  moreover  is  translated  out  of  la 
tyn  into  englysslie  fro  the  begynnynge  of  the 
worlde  y«  lygnage  of  Cryst  from  Adam  tyll  it 
be  comen  to  Davyd  &  from  Davyd  y'=  kynges 
of  Israel  &  of  Jewes  y^  hyghe  bysshops  i~  thej-r 
dayes  with  the  Juges  &  prophetes.     The  foure 
pryncypall  reames  of  y?  worlde,  that  is  to  say 
of  Babylon,  of  Percees.  of  Grekes.  &  of  Ro 
mayns.    And  all  the  Emperours  of  Rome  or 
Popes  by  ordre  &  theyr  names.     And  many  a 
notable  fader  with  certe"  of  theyr  actes. f  As  mo 
re  playnly  is  declared  in  the  chapytre  nexte  af 
ter.     fl  And  here  ben  rehersed  the  names  of  the 
AuctourSj  of  whom  these  Cronycles  ben  tras 
lated  moost  namely,    f  Galfridus  Nunmothij: 
monke  in  his  boke  of  Brute  Saynt  Bede  in  y<^ 
actes  of  Englo~de.     It"m  Bede  in  his  boke  of  ty 
mes.     Gyldas  in  the  actes  of  Brytayne.  Wyllja" 
Malmsbury  monke  in  y<'  actes  of  kynges  of 
Englonde  &  bysshops.     Cassider^  of  the  actes  of 
Emperours  &  bysshops.     Saynt  Austyn  de  ci.§ 
dei.     Titus  Liuius  de  gestis  Romanor.     Mar 
tyn  Penytencyary  to  y'  pope  in  his  cronycles 
of  Emperours  &  bysshops.     And  namely  Theo 
bald'.  Cartusiensis  conteynynge  in  his  boke  y^ 
progresse  of  all  notable  faders  from  y«  begyn 
nynge  of  the  worlde  unto. our  tyme  with  y'^  no 
table  actes  of  the  same.     ^  Jn  thys  newe  tra~s 
lacyon  are  contayned  many  notable  &  maruay 
lous  thynges  &  those  ben  alledged  by  auc 
toryte  of  ujany  famous  clerkes.     And  that  eve 
ry  man  may  knowe  how  these  Cronycles  beu 
ordred,  ye  shall  understande  that  this  boke  is 
devyded  in.  vii.  partes..    Of  the  whiche  y"  fyrst 
parte  cotitayned  from  Adam  tyll  Brute  came 
in  to  Brytayne.     The  seconde  parte  co~tayn€tb 
from  Brute  came  fyrst  in  to  Englonde,  unto ,, 

"  Yeer  of  our  lorde.  M.  iiijc  Ixxx  iij  and  in  the  xxiii  yeer." 
t  "  Actys  breuyally."  j  «  Manmoth." 

§  "  De  Ciuitate  Dei." 

the 


35 

the  dyte  of  Rome  was  buylded  by  RotnuluSi 
The  thyrde  piirteconteynethsyth  Rome  was 
buylded  unto  Cryste  was  .borne  of  oure  lady 
Mary.     The  fourth  from  thens  vnto  y'^  com'yn 
ge  of  Saxons  in  to  Englonde.    .The  fyfth  parte 
from  thens  uuto  the  comynge  of  the  Danys. 
The  syxte  parte  from  thens  unto  y^. comynge         ' 
of  ys  Normansi     The  seve~th  parte  fro  the  Nor- 
iTia~s  UHto  our  tyme.  which  is  under  y"  regne 
of  Edwarde  the  fourth  xxiii  yerei  whoos  no 
ble  cronycles  by  custonie  maye  not  be  sene. 

^  And  SCO  in  every  parte  of  these  vir  partes 
ben  shewed  y''  moost  &  necessary  actes  of  all  y^ 
kynges  of  Englo"de  &  theyr  names  wryten  abo 
ue  in.  y"^  margent  that  euery  man  maye  fynde 
them  some.     And  afore  the  kynge  of  Englondes 
actes  ben  wryten  there  is  wryten  yf  lygnage 
of  cryst  from  Adam  tyll  that  Cryst  was  borne, 
of  our  lady,  with  the  hye  bysshop  &  the  Juge  • 
that  were  in  that  tyme,  &  cerlayne  of  theyr  ac : 
tes  necessary,  tyl  it. be  comyn  tyl  cryst  was  bor. 
ne.     And  after  tliat  Cryste  was  borne  &  Peter 
was  Pope  of  rome,  is  shewed  by  ordre  the  ua , 
raes  of  all  the  popes  &  emperours  of  Rome,  a 
fore  &  after,  with  certeyne  of  theyr  actes  bre 
uyatly,  ?r  many  other  dyuers  thynges  &  mer 
ueyles  in  those  mennes  dayes  fallynge.     And  it 
is  shewed  euery  tbynge  in  his  place,  ho  we  ma. 
ny  yere  it  fell  after  the  begynnynge.of  y'^  worlde 
&  howe  longe  afore  that  Cryste  was  borne.     And 
whan  that  1  come  to  Cryst  was  borne,  then  it 
is  wryten,  how  longe  ony  thynge  fell  after  the 
Natyuyte  of  Cryst.     And  this  is  the  ordre  of  this 
boke,  &  the  thynges  that  ben  spoken  of. 

And  as  to  mennes  desyrynge  to  have  a 
very  knowledge  of  these  Cronycles  or 
of  ony  other,  it  is  necessary :  to  knowe.  v,i.  thin, 
ges.     f .  The  fyrst  is  the  stales  of  thynges,  and 
tiiose  ben  two.  Oi.c  fro  the  begynnynge  of  y« 
worlde  unto  Cryst,  the  whiche  is  called  the  sta 
te  of  Diuir.cion.     The  secunde  is  ffoijie  Cryste 
to  the  ende  .  of  y'=  worlde^  yf  whiche. is  called  the  sta  ; 
te  of  Reconsiliacion.     5f  The  seconde  thynge 
is  the.diuisyon  oftymes,  &  those  ben  three,  one 
is  afore  the  lawe  of  moyses,  &  an  other  is  un 
der  Y^  lawe  of  Moyses,  an  other  is  under  la 
we  of  grace  after  cryst  dyed.     ^  The  thyrd  is 
y*^  gouernynge  of  kyngdomes.     And  as  for  tliat 

D  2  ye 


$6 

ye  must  know :  that  although  there  wer  fore 
pryncypall  kyngdomes,  that  is  to  say.  Of  Ba 
bylon,  of  Persees,  of  Greekis,  and  Roinayns 
neueriheles:  as  to  the  cours  of  the  worlde  :  Sc 
the  ordre  of  holy  scrypture :  y«  fyrst  gouernyng 
was  under  faders:  from  Adam  unto  Moyses 
The  seconde  under  Juges  from  Moyses  un 
to  Saul.     The  thyrde  under  kynges  :  fro"  Saul 
unto  Zorobabel.     The  foiirthe  under  bysshops 
from  Zorobabel  unto  Cryst.     ^  The  fourth  is 
the  dyuersyte  of  lawes  8r  those  were  fyve.     The 
fyrst  was  the  lawe  of  nature:  &  that  was  co 
men  of  all  men.    The  seconde  is  the  lawe  or  the 
custome  of  gentyles  :  whan  that  under  kynge 
Nypn  y^  peple  began  to  worshyp  fals  goddes. 
The  thyrde  is  under  the  lawe  wryten :  rose  the 
lawe  of  Jewes :  wha"  y^  Circu'cisyon  deuyded  y" 
Jewes  from  other  people  The  fourth  is  under 
Crystj  rose  the  lawe  of  cristen  men,  whan  fay 
the  &  gxace  of  the  sacramentes,  enformed  y= 
Ijf  of  men.     The  fyfth  under  Machomete,  rose 
the  lawe  of  Sarrazyns  &  Turkes.     %  The  fyf  *■ 
the  is,  the  noblenesse  or  unnoblenesse  in  dedes 
%  And  as  to  these  it  is  to  knowe.  that  vii  per 
sons  ben  recde  of,  whome  the  dedes  many  ty 
mes  are  had  in  mynde  in  hystoryes  That  is  to 
■wyte,  of  aprynce  in  his  reame,  of  a  knyght  iii 
batayll.  of  a  Juge  in  his  place,  of  a  bysshop  in 
the  clergy,  of  a  polytyk  man  in  the  peple  of  an 
husbonde  man  in  the  hous,  &  of  an  abbot  i~  his 
chirche.     And  of  these  are  wryten  many  tymcs 
the  laudes  of  good  men,  &.  the  punysshme~tes 
of  the  cursyd  men.     f  The  sixthe  is  y=  true  cou 
tynge  of  the  yeres  &  as  to  that  it  is  to  be  kno 
we,  that  there  were  viii.  maner  of  nombryng 
or  cout tynge  of  the  yeres.     Thre  after  the  Hebre- 
wes.    Thre  after  the  Grekis.     One  after  y^  Ra 
mayns.    And  one  now  after  the  crysten  men. 
The  Hebfewes  thre  maner  of  wyse  begy~neth 
theyr  yere.     After  the  Hebrewcs  there  is  the  yere 
usuall,  begynnynge  at  January,  the  whiche 
they  use  i  covenau  tes  &  barge~s  makyng.    And 
the  yere  leyfoll  begynnynge  at  Marche,  y'  whi 
ch  they  use  m  theyr  cerymonyes.     And  the  ye 
re  Emergens  from  May  begynnynge  wJian 

*  •'  Sext,"  sic  in  orig. 

they  theyl 


37 

they  went  from  Egypt,  they  use  in  theyr  cro 
cles  &  calculations.    5f  The  Grekis  nombreth 
the  yere  thre  manere  of  wyse.     Fyrst  to  the  glo 
ry  &  joye  of  theyr  victory,  cou''teth  theyr  yerea 
from  the  destruccyon  of  Troy.     The  fyrst,  the 
seconde,  the  tbyrde,  the  fourth  &c.     fl  Theone 
after  the  chyualry  beganne  at  the  hylle  of  O 
lympus,  they  notefyed  y'  yeres  after  the  same 
Olympiadumj  &  what  Olympodes  is,  ye 
shall  know  after  in  the  boke  thethyrde  whan 
they  bega  to  have  lordship  of  all  the  world  they 
iiotefjed  theyr  yeres  thys  manere  of  wyse,  in  y*^ 
yere  of  fhe  Regne  of  Grekis  y*4,  y'  10,  y'  xii, 
XV.  &c.     As  it  is  open  in  the  boke  of  Machabe. 

If  Then~e  after  the  Romayns  governynge  y^ 
worlde,  counted  &  nombred  theyr  yei-es  ab  ur 
be  condita.     ^  The  last  of  all  Christen  men  co' 
teth  theyr  yeres  from  y«  Incarnacyon  of  Criste 
And  bycause  we  ben  Crysten  men  we  use  moo 
ste  to  nombre,  from  y^  begynnynge  of  the  worl 
de,  unto  cryst  was  borne.     And  fro  Cryst  being 
borne  unto  our  tyme      And  this  ordre  is  obser 
ued  &  kepte  in  all  the  booke,  of  every  thyng 
in  his  place  as  it  is  sayd  before. 

if  Explicit  Prologus. 
5r  Hie  incipit  Fructus  Tempor. 
Bycause  of  this  bokes  made,  to  tel  what 
tyme  of  ony  thynge  notable  was.     Ther 
fore  the  begynny'ge  of  all  tymes  shortely  shall 
be  touched      For  the  whiche  after  doctours  it 
is  to  be  knowen,  that  iiii.  thynges  were  made 
fyrste,  &  in  one  tyme  :  &  of  one  aege.     That  is  to 
wyte,  the  heuen  Imperyall,  au'gels  nature :  y= 
matere  of  y^  foure  elemc~tes :  &  tyme.     And  that 
doctours  calle,  the  werke  of  the  creacyon  :  the 
which  was  made  afore  ony  daye  or  nyght  of 
the  myghty  power  of  God.     Ane  was  made  of 
nothynge    If  Thenne  after  foloweth  the  wer 
ke  of  the  dyuysyon  :  the  whiche  was  made  in 
ihre  of  the  fyrst  dayes  in  whiche  is  shewed  the 
hyghe  wysdome  of  the  maker.    If  Thenne  af 
ter  foloweth  the  arayenge  ef  this  werke  in  the 
which  is  shewed  the  goodnes  of  the  creature  . 
the  whiche  was  made,  iii,  of  the  liexte  dayes  fo 
lowynge  (ut  patz  clare  in  textu  gen.  primo) 

IT  The  fyrst  day  god  made  &  devyded  y«  lyght 
from  the  derknesse.    If  The  seconde  daye  god 

B  3  mader 


38 

made  :  &  ordeyned  the  fyrtnament :  &  devyded 

the  water  from  the  water.     IT  The  thyrde  daye 

god  made  in  the  whiche  he  gadered  y-  waters 

in  to  one  place :  &  y'  erthe  then  appered.     If  The 

fourth  daye  god  made :   in  the  which  he  ordey 

ned  the  sonne:  y=  moone  &  the  sterrers  &  put  them 

in  the  fyrraament.     5|"  The  fyfth  daye  god  ma 

de  :  in  the  whiche  he  ordeyned  fysshes  &  fou 

les:  &  grate  whales  in  the  water.     IT  The  sixtc 

daye  god  ordeyned  :  in  the  which  he  made  be 

ests  &  man.     The  vn  day  god  made 

and  in  that  day  he  rested  of  all  werkes  that  he 

had  qrdeyjied  not  as  in  v/erkyng  beynge 

wcry,  but  he  cessyd  to  make  no  new  creatu 

res.   (vid.  Geii.  1.) 

Understande  ye  y'  Adam  y"  fyrst  man,  of 
whome.it  is  wryten  in  this  fyrst  age  next 
folowynge  ly ved.  CCL  yere  &  xxx.     And  he  gatte 
XXXII.  son'es,  &  as  many  doughters. 

Then  begins  "  the  fyrste  aege  durynge  unto  the 
floode  of  Noy,"  which  ends  in  the  foitrth  coluipn  of 
this  folio. 

The  lastchaptei-  on  the  first  page  of  folio  cxxviii  is 

'•■  Of  the  deposing  of  Kynge  He~ry  the  sixte 
&  how  kynge  Edwarde  the  fourth  took  pos 
sessyo .  &  of  the  batayll  on  Palm  Sondaye, 
&  hove  he  was  crowned." 

After  giving  an  account  of  the  battle  of  Toqtpn,  it 
epds  thus: 

Thenne  Kynge  Henry  that  had  be  kyng.  be 
ynge  wyth  the  quene  &  the  prj'nce  att  Yorke 
herynge  the  losse  of  that  felde.     And  so  moche  pe 
pie  slayne  &  overthrowe,  anone  forthe  with 
departed  all  thie  wyth  the  Duke  of  Somerset 
the  lorde  Roos,  &  other  towarde  Scotlande 
And  the  nexte  daye  after  kynge  Edward  with 
all  his  armye  entred  in  to  yorke,  &  was  ther 
proclaymyd  kynge  &  obeyed  as  he  ought  too 
be.     And  the  Mayre  &  comyns  swore  to  be  his 
lyegemen.  &  whan  they  had  taryed  a  whyle 
in  the  northe  &  that  all  tlie  north  &  that  al  the 
north  countree  had  torned  to  hym  he  retorned 
sputh  -v^atde.  levynge  behyndehym  the  erle  of 

'       werwyk 


39 

werwyk  in  tho  partyes  to'governe  &  rule  that 
coiintre.     And  aboute  Mydsomer  after  the  yere 
of  our  lorde.  M.CCCC.LX.  &the  fyrste  yere  of  hys 
'regne  he  was  crowned  at  westtrT.  &  anoynted 
kfge  of  englo"de  havyng  possessyd"  of  al  y*^  reame;" 

The  last  page  is  principally  *  occupied  by  an-  account 
of  the  existing  Pope  Sextus  IV.  and  his  three  predeces- 
sors, 

"■  Sixtus  the  fourth  a  lohanndSj  &  a  frere 
minor  was  pope  after  poule.     This  ma" 
was  geneall  in  y'=  ordre  of  y^  frere  raynors  or  he 
was  Cardynal.     And  he  was  chose"  in  y-.yere  of 
our  lorde.  M.CCCC.LXXI.     And  was  called  Fra~cis 
cus  de  Sanona.  of  good  fame  &  vertuost  He  .^ 

was  chose"  Cardynall  without  his  knowlege 
tyll  he  was  made,  &  y^  same  yere  y'  he  was  chose 
pope.     The  turke  had  take"  frome  criste~ma~  two 
empyres.  &  four  kyngdomes.  xx,  provi"ces.  and 
two  hu~dred  cytyes,  &  had  destroyed  me"  &  wym 
me"  without  no"bre.     And  y"-  mevyd'the  pope  y'  he 
sholde  dyspose  hym  to  goo  to  withstonde  hym. 
And  for  an  armye  to  be  made  ayenst  the 
Turke  y«  pope  gave  grete  Indulgentes  of  par 
don  of  y'  tresori  of  the  cyrche  unto  all  cryste  rea 
mes.  y'  he  myght  ordeyne  some  tresore  to  with 
stande  y'  mysbeleved  Turke.     And  in  the  lo"de  of 
EnglondCj  lohn  abbot  of  Abyngdon  was  the 
popes  legate,  to  dyspose  this  gondii  tresoure.  of 
y^  chyrche  to  every  feythful  ma",  y'  was  disposed 
&  that  wolde  able  hym  to  receyue  it." 

Then  follows  the  Colophon. 

The  "  Description  of  Britayhe,"  is  wanting  to.  this 
copy,  and  perhaps  was  not  published  with  it. 

Former  editions  of  this  work  were 

I.  Caxtonjs,  1480.  See  DUdin's  AmeSjI.^^  Her-, 
lert,  I.  305. 

♦  On  the  same  page  is  this  pairsigraph  : 
''  Prynters  of  bookes  were  myghtely-mul 
typlyed  in  Maguncip,  ^  thrughoute  the  -; 

worlde  &  there  began  fyrste.  &  there  helde  th'eyr 
craftes.  &  thys  tyme  myny  me~  bega~  to  be  more 
subtyll  in  craftes  &  swyterff  tha"  ever  they  were 

afore." 
t  Sic.    Qu?  this  word.? 

04  3.  At 


4© 

2.  AtSt,  Alban's,  1483.     See  Herbert,  III.  1431. 

3.  By  Machlrnia.     No  date.     See  Dili  din's  Specimen 
of  an  English  De  Eiire,  p.  18. 

4.  By  Gerard  de  Leew,  at  Antwerp,  1493.  ibid. 

5.  By  Wynkin  De  Worde,  1497,  ib.  and  Herbert,  I. 

133.134. 

6.  Do.  1502.  ib. 

7.  Do.  1515.  ib. 

8.  Do.  1510.  ib. 

g.  Do.  1528,  and  perhaps  again,  ib. 

10.  Do.  by  Julyan  Notary,  1504.  ib. 

11.  Do.  by  Pynson,  1510.   ib.  and  Herbert,  I.  236.* 


^  The  Tresuri  of  Helth  conlaynynge  many  profytalle 
medicines,  gathered  out  of  Hipocratz,  Gale  is" 
jiuicen,  by  one  Petnis  Hyspatius  bi  tra  slated  into 
Englysh  by  Hiif re  Lloyd,  who  hath  added  thereunto 
y^  causes  ®*  sygnes  of  every  dysease,  v/  the  Apho- 
rismes  of  Hipocrates  Q  Jacobus  De.  Partybus  redacted 
to  a  certayne  order  according  to  the  mebres  of  mans 
bodys,  and  a  compendiouse  table  conteyning  the  purg- 
ing isf  comfortative  medicines  uylh  the  exposition  of 
certayne  names  &  weyghtes  in  thys  boke  contayned 
wyih  an  Epistle  of  Diodes  unto  kyng  Antigonus. 
Ecclesiast.  xxxvii.  The  Lorde  hath  created physycke 
of  the  earth,  ^  he  that  is  wyse  wyll  not  abhorre  it. 
Colophon.  Imprinted  at  London  in  Fletestrete  at 
the  signe  of  the  Rose  garldd,  by  Wyllyam  Copland. 
Small  8vo. 

The  copy  from  whence  this  title  was  transcribed  be- 
longed to  Mr.  Brand,  whose  autograph,  "  John  Brand, 
1796,"  has  the  addition  of  "  rariss." 

Herbert  mentions,  in  Vol.  I.  360,  361,  a  supposed 
former  edition.  See  also  p.  899,  where  it  appears  to 
have  been  reprinted  by  Tho.  Hacket.  n.  d. 

•  See  also  Burnett's  Specimens  cf  English  Prose  Writers,  I.  173 
to  1*9, 

Thl* 


41 

This  edition  is  not  paged,  but  exteijids  to  Sign.  G.  It 
has  an  Epistle  Dedicatory  of  "  Humfery  Ljoyde,  to  the 
gentel  harted  reader,"  followed  by  a  page  of  "Places  in 
scrypture  which  seeme  to  make  for  the  prayse  of 
physyke."  Of  this  book,  the  Buchan  of  its  day,  I  take 
the  following  specimen,  for  its  shortness : 

"  Jgainst  Madnesse,  called  Mania. 

"  The  Causes. 

"  Great  quantitie  of  incorrupte  bloud  flowyng  to  the 
brayne." 

"  Tile  Sygnes. 

"■  It  is  lyke  to  the  phrenesy  savyng  that  the  frenesyj  corny th 
wyth  a  fever,  &  thys  wythout." 

"  Remedies.     Capi  xi. 

"  Certeyne  men  say  that  a  rested  mous  eaten  doth  heale 
franticke  persons, 

"  A  redde  stone  founde  in  a  swallowe  carryed  about  the 
pacient  &  tyed  in  a  cloth  of  lynen  &  put  under  the  lyfte  arme 
doth  heale  frantyke  &  lunatike  persons. 

"  A  radishe  be  sta~pt  &  bound  to  the  brayne  will  heale  one 
of  y«  fallynge  sycknes  by  &  by." 


^  A  Short  and  Plaine  Dialogve  concerning  the  vn- 
lawfulnes  of  playing  at  Cards  or  Tables,  or  any 
other  game  consisting  in  chance  Offered  to  the  re- 
ligious consideration  of  all  such  as  make  conscience 
of  all  their  waies.  i  Thessal.  v.  21.  Trie  all  things 
and  heepe  that  which  is  good.  Imprinted  at  London 
for  Richard  Boile.    Twelves.     Eight  leaves. 

Dedicated  by  James  Balmford  to  "  Maister  Lionel  Maddi- 
Son,  Maior,  the  Aldermen  bis  brethren,  and  the  godly  Bur.^ 
gesses  of  Newcastle  vpon  Tine;  and  what  he  had  theretofore 
propounded  to  them  in  teaching  he  published  to  all  men  by 
printing,  to  wit,  his  opinion  of  the  unlawfulnes  of  games  con- 
sisting in  chance."  Dated  from  his  "  studie  the  first  of  lanu- 
arie,  IS93." 

The 


43 

The  interlocutors  in  this  plain  Dialogue,  which  is 
"  brimfull  of  scripture,"  are  the  Professor  and  Preacher. 

"  Profes.  The  wit  is  exercised  by  tables  and  cards,  there- 
fore they  be  no  lots.  >    m- 

Preach.  Yetlotterie  is  vsed  by  casting  dice  and  by  shuttling 
and  cutting,  before  the  wit  is  exercised.  But  how  doth  this 
follow?  Because  cards  and  tables  bee  not  naked  lots,  consisting 
only  in  chance  (as  dice)  they  are  therefore  no  lots  at  all.  Al- 
though being  vsed  without  cogging,  or  packing,  they  consist 
principally  in  chance,  from  whence  they  are  to  receiue  deno- 
mination. In  which  respect  a  lot  is  called  in  Latin  Sors,  that 
is,  chance  or  hazard.  And  Lyra  vpon  Prou.  l6,  saith.  To 
vse  lots,  is,  by  a  variable  euent  of  some  sensible  thing,  to  de- 
termine some  doubtful!  or  vncertaine  matter,  as  to  draw  cuts 
or  to  cast  dice 

Profes.  Lots  are  secret,  and  the  whole  disposing  of  them  is 
of  God^  Pro.  16,  33,  but  it  is  otherwise  in  tables  or  cards. 

Preach.  Lots  are  cast  into  the  lap  by  man,  and  that  openly, 
lest  conueiance  should  be  suspected  :  but  the  disposing  of  the 
chance  is  secret,  that  it  may  be  cha~ce  indeede,  and  wholly  of 
Godj  who  directeth  all  things,  Prou.  16,  13.  9,  33.  So  in 
tables,  man  by  faire  casting  dice  truly  made,  and  in  cardes  by 
shuffling  &  cutting,  doth  openly  dispose  the  dice  and  cards  sOj 
as  whereby  a  variable  euent  may  follow:  but  it  is  onely  arid 
immediately  of  God  that  the  dice  bee  so  cast,  and  the  cards  so 
shuffled  and  cut,  as  that  this  or  that  game  followeth,  except 
there  be  cogging  and  packing.  So  that  in  faire  play  mans  wit 
is  not  exercised  in  disposing  of  the  chance,  but  in  making  the 
best  of  it  being  past."  *  * 


*|  ^n  Astrological  Discourse  upon  the  great  i^  notable 
conjunction  of  the  two  stiperiour  planets  Saturne  & 
Jvpiier,  which  shall  happen  the  28  day  of  April 
1583.  With  a  declaration  of  the  effectes,  which  the 
late  eclipse  of  the  sunne  1582  is  yet  heeiafter  to 
woorke.  Written  newly  by  Richard  Harvey :  partley 
to  supplie  that  is  wanting  in  common  prognostica- 
tions: arid  partley  ly  pradiction  of  mischief es  en-r 
suing,  either  to  breed  some  endevour  of  prevention  by 
foresight,  so  far  as  lyeth  in  us:  or  at  leastwise  to 
arme  us  withpacience  beforehande.  Seene  fs"  allowed. 

Colophon, 


43 

Colophon.     Imprinted,  ly  Hen.  Bynneman,  with  the 
assent  of  R.  W.     (Richard  ^atkins.)  8vo.  * 

^  An  Astrologicall  addition,  or  supplement  to  he  an- 
nexed to  the  late  discourse  upon  the  great  conjunciioTi 

•  'of  Saturne  SS  Jupiter.  Wherin  are  particularly  de- 
clared certaine  especiall  points  before  omitted  as  well 
touchi?ig  the  elevation  of  one  plannet  above  another, 
with  theyr  severall  significations :  as  touching  (eco- 
nomical ^  houshold  provision:  luith  some  other  ju- 
dicials  no  lesse  profitable.  Made  &  written  this  last 
1  AfarchbyJohnHarvey,studentinphisicke.  Whereunto 
is  adjoyned  his  translation  of  the  learned  worke  of 
Hermes  Trismegistus,  intituled  latromathematica : 
a  booke  of  especiall  great  use  for  all  students  in  as- 
trologie  &  phisiclie.  London,  imprinted  by  Richard 
fVatkins.  1583.  iimo. 

Our  poetical  historian  remarks,  that  the  numerous  as- 
trological tracts,  particularly  pieces  caWzA  prognostica- 
tions., published  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  are  a 
proof  how  strangely  the  people  were  infatuated  with  that 
sort  of  divination.  One  of  the  most  remarkable  (con- 
tinues he)  was  a  treatise  written  in  the  year  1582,  by 
•Richard  Harvey,  brother  to  Gabriel  Harvey,  a  learned 
astrologer  at  Cambridge,  predicting  the  portentous  con- 
junction of  the  primary  planets  Saturn  and  Jupiter  which 
was  to  happen  the  next  year.  It  had  the  immediate  ef- 
fect of  throwing  the  whole  kingdom  into  the  most  vio- 
lent consternation.  When  the  fears  of  the  people  were 
over,  Nash  published  a  droll  account  of  their  opinions 
and  apprehensions,  while  this  formidable  phEenomcnon 
was  impending;  and  Elderton,  a  ballad-maker,  and 
Tarleton,  the  comedian,  joined  in  the  laugh.  This  was 
the  best  way  of  confuting  the  impertinencies  of  the 
science  of  the  stars.  True  knowledge  must  have  been 
beginning  to  dawn,  when  these  profound  fooleries  be- 
came the  objects  of  wit  and  ridicule,  f 

*  Herbert  mentions  another  edition  of  the  same  d.ite.    Typog. 
^ntiq.  page  989. 
t  Hist,  of  English  Po?try,  Vol,  IV.  p.  13. 

•  The 


44 

The  publication  of  Nash,  to  which  Warton  alludes, 
is  that  entitled  Pierce  Penilesse  his  supplication  to  the 
Divell,*  1592, 4to;  a  tract,  no  less  remarkable  for  its  inex- 
haustible stream  of  satire,  than  the  extraordinary  vigour 
of  expression  which  conveys  it,  though  disguised  by 
verbal  licentiousness  and  quaintness  of  language.  The 
passage  in  which  he  ridicules  Harvey's  Prediction,  is  as 
follows : 

"■  Gentlemen,  I  am  sure  you  have  heard  of  a  ridiculous 
asse,  that  manie  yeares  since  sold  lyes  by  the  great,  and  wrote 
an  absurd  astrologicall  discourse  of  the  terrible  conjunction  of 
Saturne  and  Jupiterj  wherein  (as  if  hee  had  latelie  cast  the 
heaven's  water,  or  been  at  the  anatomizing  of  the  skies  in- 
trayles,  in  Surgeons-hall)  hee  prophecieth  of  such  Strang 
wonders  to  ensue  from  starres  distemperature  and  the  universal 
adultrj  of  planets,  as  none  but  he  that  is  bawd  to  those  celestiall 
bodies,  could  ever  descry.  What  expectation  there  was  of  it, 
both  in  towne  and  country,  the  amazement  of  those  times 
may  testifie:  and  the  rather,  because  he  pawned  his  credit  f 
upon  it,  in  these  expresse  tearmes.  '  If  these  things  fall  not 
out  in  everie  poynt  as  I  have  wrote,  let  mee  for  ever  hereafter 
loose  the  credit  of  my  astronomie.'  Wei  so  it  happend,  that 
he  happend  not  to  be  a  man  of  his  word:  his  astronomie 
broke  his  day  with  his  creditors,  and  Saturne  and  Jupiter 
proov'd  honestfr  men  than  all  the  world  tooke  them  for: 
whereupon  the  poore  prognosticator  was  readie  to  runne  him- 
selfe  through  with  his  Jacob's  staffe,  and  cast  himselfe  head- 
long from  the  top  of  a  globe  (as  a  mountaine)  and  breake  his 
necke.  The  whole  universitie  hyst  at  him,  Tarlton  at  the 
theater  made  jests  of  him,  and  Elderton  consumed  his  ale- 
crammed  nose  to  nothing,  in  bear-bayting  him  with  whole 
bundells  of  ballets-  Would  you  in  likely  reason  gesse  it  were 
possible  for  anie  shame-swoln  toad  to  have  the  spet-proofcTface 
to  outlive  this  disgrace?  It  is,  deare  brethren,  vivit,  imo  vivit, 
and  which  is  more,  he  is  a  vicar." 

The  book  for  which  Richard  Harvey  was  thus  de- 
servedly lashed,  is  dedicated  "to  John  [Aylmer]  Bishop 
of  London."  "  Here  in  London  this  23  Jan.  1581,"  (a 
misprint  for  1583),  The  discourse  is  addressed  to  his 
"  verie  good  and  tnost  loving  brother.  Master  Gabriel 

*  SeeCENs.LiT.  VII.  10,  169,  362. 
f  "  Which  at  home  I  wis  was  worth  a  dozen  of  halters  at  least, 
for  if  I  be  not  deceivd  his  father  was  a  ropemaker." 

Harrey, 


45 

Harvey,  at  his  chamber  in  Trinitie  Hall,"  and  contains 
76  pages.  "  A  compendious  table  of  Phlebotomie,"  &c. 
is  added  to  it,  which  eccupies  eight  pages  more.  Dated 
"  from  my  father's  in  Walden,  6  Dec.  1582. — Richard 
Harvey." 

Very  shortly  after  the  publication  of  this,  his  younger 
brother,  John  Harvey,  added  a  supplement,  the  title  of 
which  follows  that  of  the  Discourse  at  the  head  of  this 
article.     This  is  dedicated    "  to  the  Right  Worshipful 
Master  Justice  Meade,  *  returning  from  his  honourable 
circuite,"  to  whom  "John  Harvey  wisheih  long  health, 
and    continuall   increase  of   all    prosperitie."     He  says 
"  having  sundry  times  perused  the  astrologicall  discourse 
touching  the  great  conjunction  of  Saturne  and  Jupiter, 
published  the  laste  January  by  my  brother  Richard,  and 
therein  noting  by  the  way  some  wante  of  certaine  neces- 
sarie  and  profitable  judicials,  which   seemed  convenient 
to  be  added,  for  the  more  expres  and  particular  discuss- 
ing of  some  pointes,  generally  and  that  diligently  too  by 
him  considered,  but  not  so  narrowly  and  precisely  ex- 
amined as  they  might  have  been   (which  was  not  my 
opinion  only,  but  the  judgement  of  some  his  learned  wel- 
willers,  and  great  commenders,  otherwise,)  I  resolved,  in 
the  end,  to  ease  him  of  that  labour,  knowing  himselfe  to 
bee  otherwise  busied  upon  more  special  and  necessary 
occasion." — "This  first  of  Aprill,  1583.  John  Harvey.'* 
After  this  follows  the  Astrological  addition  "  newlie  sent 
by  John  Harvey,  to  his  worshipfull  and  beloved  brother, 
M.  Gabriell  Harvey:"    "Good  brother,  understanding 
here  in  Walden,  how  desirous  some  have  been  both   in 
London  and  Cambridge,  to  espie  a  hole  in  my  brother 
Richard's  cote,  and  knowing  his  own  businesse  other- 
wise at  this  present,  I   have  adventured  to  adde  unto  his 
Astrologicall  Discourse  what  I  (upon  some  conference) 
thought  might  reasonablie  be  demaunded  as  therein  re- 
quisite.    My  meaning  is  not  to  perfect  Apelles'  picture, 
or  to  teach  him  of  whom  I  may  learne;  but  to  doe  as 

•  Nash,  in  his  Ha've  'with  you  to  Saffron  Walden,  says,  "  this 
John  was  hee,  that  beeing  entertand  in  Justice  Meade's  house  (as 
a^^hoole-master)  stole  away  his  daughter,  and  to  pacific  him, 
dtdicattd  to  him  an  Almanacke.''"     Sign.  N  i . 

much 


46 

much  for  him  ui  his  warite  of  leysure  (so  farre  as  my 
reading  would  extend)  as  I  would  wish  him  to  doe  for  me 
upon  like  occasion." 

The  treatise  itself  is  occupied  with  an  account  of  the 
"  terrible  accidents  and  feareful  events  threatned  by  this 
grand  copulation  of  Saturne  and  Jupiter;  first  prognosti- 
cally  entreated  of  my  brother  Richard  in  his  discourse, 
and  nowe  enlarged  by  myself  in  this  tractate  :  I  am  per  - 
swaded  that  th^y  shall  forcibly  begin  to  take  place  even 
in  this  present  yeere  1583."  !  I  J-  J.  P. 


tI  The  Diall  of  Destiny  i  a  hooke  very  detectable  and 
pleasaunt:  wherein  may  he  seene  the  continuall  and 
cilsiomable  course,  disposition,  qualities,  effectes,  and 
injiuence  of  the  seven  planets  upon  all  kyndes  of  crea- 
tures here  below:  and  unto  the  severa II  and  sundry 
situation  of  country es  a7id  kingdomes.  Compiled  and 
discussed,  brief  y,  aswell  astrologically  as  poetically. 
By  John  Maplet,  Maister  of  Arte.  Imprinted  at 
London  in Fleestrea!  neere' Sainte  Dunstone's  Church, 
by  Thomas  Marshe.  158 1.  lamo.  pp.  162. 

Dedicated  "  to  the  Right  Honorable  Sir  Christopher 
Hatton,  Knight,  one  of  the  Queene's  Maiestie's  most 
honourable  Privy  Coiinseil,  andCaptayne  of  her  Grace's 
Garde,"  who  (says  the  dedicator)  was  to  his  "renowned 
Prince  even  the  same  that  Phocion,  a  most  re.nowmed 
captayne,  was  to  the  Athenians;  and  as  Epamiuondas  to 
the  Thebanes,"  &c.  Dated  "from  Northall,  the  last  of 
December,  1581,"  by  his  "  Honor's  humble  and  dayly 
orator,  John  Maplet."  Then  follows  "  the  preface  to  ih'e 
reader,"  of  six  pages,  in  defence  of  astrology,  concluding 
thus:  "The  name  also  which  [  have  "gieveu  to  thi'a 
booke,  callinge  it  the  '  Dyall  of  Desiiny,'  doth  well 
enough,  as  I  thinke,  agree  to  the  purpose;  for,  d.yall 
wise,  it  goeth  from  poynte  to  poynte,  and  from  degree  to 
degree,  shewing  the  subjection  of  every  eche  kinde  to  his 
sundry  and  scverall  superior  planet.  Which  laboyr  of 
mine,  such  as  it  is,  receyve  thou  thankfully;  and  then 
have  I  that  recompence  that  I  doe  require.  Fare-well." 
After  a  short  caveat  "  to  the  scornfull  sort  of  syco- 
phants," 


47 

phants,"  follows  the.  discourse  itself,  treating  ''  of  the 
concord  or  common  felowship  of  the  seven  planets ;  as 
dso  of  their  dreadeful  debate  and  discorde."  Each  planet 
has  a  Separate  article  allotted  to  it,  arranged  in  the  order 
of  the  Ptolemaic  system.  The  book  concludes  with  "  a 
description  of  such  dayes  as  are  most  happie  and  un- 
happie  throughout  the  yeare."- 

The  accounts  of  the  supposed  effects  of  the  planets  upon 
the  persons  and  dispositions  of  men,  are  here  transcribed, 
to  give  some  idea  of  the  author's  style.  They  are  by  far 
the  least  pedantical  parts  of  the  work. 

"  Touching  the  inclitiation  of  all  such  parties  which  bee 
borne  ufider  Ldna  or  the  moorle,  they  be  naturally  mutable 
and  moveable,  without.iidelity  and  constancy;  geven  to  pro- 
voke much  anger  and  discord  between  friends:  they  bee  also 
so  ful  of  hatred,  and  in  their  conversation  and  manner  of  ]yfe 
they  be  verve  childish.  The  coloure  of  these  commonlye  is  a 
pale  or  whyte  colour,  although  now  and  then  they  have  there- 
withal a  little  red  intermedled.  Their  face  is  round,  their  stature 
indifferent^  their  eies  black,  and  their  browes  wrinkled." 

"  Those  that  be  borne  under  Mercury  are  lusty  and  lyking, 
and  valiant  of  body;  but  of  slippery  and  chaungeable  mindes. 
The  colour  of  their  face  is  after  a  browne,  betweene  white 
and  blacke;  their  face  is  also  somewhat  long ;  they  are  also 
of  a  highe  and  broad  foreheade ;  their  eyes  comely^  and  rowl- 
ing ;  their  nose  flat,  their  beard  thinne,  and  their  fingers 
long." 

"  Those  that  be  borne  under  Venus,  are  amiable  and  of 
merry  and  smylynge  looke  or  countenance,  greate  laughers, 
very  'wanton,  and  suche  as  do  greatly  delight  in  musicke: 
they  have  also  a  very  perfect  smell  and  taste,  and  their  voyce 
is  very  sweete  or  delectable.  They  are  also  given  much  to 
the  composing  oyntments  and  odoures.  Their  bodies  are  wel 
set,  and  be  of  proper  features;  their  faces  and  vysages  are 
round,  their  hayre  yealow,  their  eyes  glittering  and  rowling. 
In  conditions  they  be  gentle,  curteous,  fayre  spoken,  rhilde, 
and  modest;  meete  for  all  companies." 

"  Such  as  be  borne  under  Sol,  are  for  the  moste  parte  of  a 
browne  colour,  and  of  smal  stature,  yet  well  and  comely  knit 
and  proporcipned  ;  they  be  also  of  a  very  thin  haire  and  curled 
head,  gray  eyed:  they  be  alsohawty  stomacked,  and  they  are 
advanced  often  to  great  honours  and  dignities.  And  the  dis- 
position of  their  minde  is  such  that  they  be  studious  of  diffi- 
cult and  hard  matters,  very  desirous  of  glory  and  renowne. 
They  bee  also  fast  and  faythfull  in  friendship,  and  constant  in 
fact  and  worde.   They  bee  Ukewise  wise  and  polliticke  touch- 


48 

ing  commoh-wealth  affayres,  and  are  given  much  to  procure 
the  profit  of  their  country." 

"  Such  as  are  borne  under  Mars  are  cruell,  dreadfuUj  de- 
spiteful!, malicious;  quickly  moved  and  styrred  up  to  v/rath 
and  anger.  Theyr  countenannce  and  looke  also  is  sowre, 
grim,  and  fearful.  Theyr  colour  for  the  most  parte  is  after  a 
fiery  red,  theyr  hayre  cole  black,  theyr  face  roundewise,  their 
cies  yellowish.  In  conversation  and  demeanure  or  manner  of 
life,  they  be  impudent  and  shameless,  very  advcntrous  and 
bold,  hardy,  hie-minded,  proude,  crafty,  and  subtill." 

"  Such  as  are  under  the  government  of  lupiter  are  out- 
wardly' of  merry  countenance,  and  comely  and  seemely  beha- 
viour and  gesture;  they  be  also  lovers  of  clcnlinesse  and  such 
as  be  f  lyre  speached.  Their  colour  is  cbmmonly  white,  yet 
stayned  here  and  there  with  some  red  among:  their  body  is 
well  set  and  proportioned,  and  their  stature  and  height  is  in- 
dcfFerentj  thej'  be  also  of  thyn  haire,  of  great  eyes  and  the 
pupill  or  ball  of  their  eye  exceedetb  and  is  after  a  black.  They 
bee  moreover  of  shone  nose,  curled  bearde,  and  their  fore 
teeth  are  great  and  long.  And  inwardly  concerning  the 
frame  or  qualities  of  their  minde  they  be  studuous,  quiet  and 
well  affected  towards  all  men,  but  their  love  is  sodaynly  got, 
and  quickly  lost  againe.  Moreover,  as  concernynge  worldly 
benefits,  lupiter  advanceth  his  to  great  prosperity,  good  suc- 
cesse,  much  riches,  high  honoare;  and  getteth  them  favour 
and  friendship  in  the  worlde,  and  preserveth  (hem  from  the 
assaults  of  their  enemies." 

"  Such  as  are  borne  under  Saturne,  commonly  called 
Saturnysts,  are  lumpish,  heavy  and  sad,  dull-witted,  full  of 
melancholy,  hard  and  straunge  a  long  time  to  receive  under- 
standinge  and  learninge,  but  yet,  after  they  have  once  with 
much  adoe  apprehended  and  taken  the  same,  they  after  become 
fast  keepers  and  retayners  thereof." 

Of  the  author  of  this  scarce  little  volume,  I  know 
nothing  more  than  that  he  was  educated  at  Cambridge, 
and  puolished  a  book  entitled,  "  J  greene  forest,  or  a 
naturall  historie,  wherein  may  lee  seene,  first,  the  most 
suff-eraigne  verlues  in  all  the  whole  kinde  of  stone,  and 
mettals ;  next  ofplantes,  as  of  herles,  trees,  and  shrubs; 
lastly,  of  brute  beasts,  foules,  fishes,  creeping  wormes, 
and  serpents;  and  that  alphabetically :  so  that  a  table 
shall  not  neede.  1567."  8tio. 

The  present  edition  of  his  "  Diall  of  Destiny,"  was 
unknown  to  Ames  and  Herbert,  who  only  mention  one 
«f  ^582.  J.  J.  p. 


49 


'll  A  Display  of  duiiey  dect  with  sage. sayings,  pythie 
sentences,  a,nd  proper  similies :  Pleasant  -,  to  reade, 
delightfull  to  hearCj  and  profitable  to  practise.  By 
i[eonard)  Wright;  Good  nurture  leadetli  the  way 
vnte  vertue,  and  discreet  lehauiour  plaineth  the  path 
to  felicitie:  London,  printed  ly  John  Wolfe.  1589. 
qto.  24  leaves., 

[Again]  printed  ly  V.  S.  for  Nicholas  Lyng.  1602= 
qto.  23  leaves, 

The  subject  of  this-  and  the  next  article  are  the  only 
performances  known  by  this  writer.  The  present  is  an 
early  and  pleasing  specimen  of  what  is  now  generally  ap- 
proved of  as  a  parlour-window  miscellany. 

By  the  dedication  "to  the  Right  Worshipfull,  most  valiant, 
and  famous,  Thomas  Candish,  Esquier :  L.,  Wright  wisheth 
all  happinesse  in  this  life,  and  in  the  world  to  come,  to  ioy 
with  Chris^t  in  felicitie  for  euer."  Then  follows  an  address  to 
the  reader,  telling  him  the  book  contains  "  both  profitable 
rules  for  the  instruction  of  youth,  and  sound  reasons  for  refor- 
mation of  age." 

In  describing,  "  the  property  of  a  faithfull  and  fained 
friend,"  he  observes  "  touching  the  naturall-inclination  of 
men,  hee  that  is  light  and  toyesh  in  youth,  proueth  often 
teastie  and  Waspish  in  age.  A  bold  malipart  boye,  a  wilful! 
seditious  man.  Agrimme  crabtree  countenance  doth  com  only 
shew  a  hard  churUsh  di-position.  A  smooth  glosing  toong, 
a  crafty  dissembling  hart.  And  a  quicke  sharpe  wit,  an  vn- 
constant  and  wauering  condition,  neither  faithfull  to  friend, 
nor  fearefull  to  foe.  But  especially  a  proud,  furious,  or  scorn- 
full  person,  is  apt  to  take  displeasure  and  thinke  vnkinduesse 
vpon  euery  light  occasion,  and  if  such  a  heart,  where  friend- 
ship hath  dwelt  begin  once  to  hate,  it  is  like  a  spung  which 
sucketh  vp  as  much  matter  of  malice,  as  before  of  fauour  and 
affection ;  and  euen  as  the  best  wine,  maketh  the  sharpest 
veniger ;  so  the  deepest  loue,  turneth  to  the  deadliest  hate. 

"  /?z  prayse  of  Priendship. 

"  Of  all  the  heauenly  giftes  on  earth. 
Which  mortall  men  t;oramend  : 
No  treasure  well  may  connteruaile, 
A  true  and  faithfull  friend. 
VOL.  II.  s  What 


50 

What  sweeter  solace  can  befall, 

■    Then  such  a  one  to  finde: 

As  in  whose  breast  thou  maiest  repose. 

The  secrets  of  thy  minde. 
If  flattering  Fortune  chance  to  frownc. 

And  driue  thee  to  distresse : 
True  faitlifuU  friend  will  helpe  at  need. 

And  make  thy  sorrowes  lesse. 
Oh  precious  iem !  Oh  iewell  great ! 

Oh  friendship,  pearle  of  price! 
Thou  surely  doest  each  thing  excell. 

That  man  can  well  deuice. 
The  golden  mines  are  soone  decayde. 

When  Fortune  turnes  the  wheele; 
And  force  of  armes  are  soon  allayed. 

If  body  sicknesse  feele. 
And  cunning  art  soone  ouerthrowne, 

Experience  teacheth  plaine : 
And  all  things  else  their  course  doth  change. 

When  friendship  doth  remaine. 
But  since  by  proofe  they  haue  beene  taught, 

A  fained  friend  to  know : 
I  will  not  trust  such  glosing  tongues. 

More  then  my  open  foe. 

Where  fairest  face  doth  harbour  foulest  hart, 
And  sweetest  tongue  most  treason  doth  impart; 
Oh  false  deceat,  I'le  trust  to  such  no  more. 
But  learne  to  keepe  a  hatch  before  the  doore. 

"  A  friendly  aduertisement  touching  marriage. 

"  Though  wedlocke  be  a  thing  so  doubtfull  and  daunge- 
rous  to  deale  withall,  as  to  seeke  roses  amo~gst  thorns,  honny 
amongst  hornets,  or  eeles  amongst  adders.  Notwithstanding 
might  my  words  craue  pardon,  though  more  willing  to  wish 
well  then  able  to  perswade,  I  would  (ajxording  to  my  simple 
skill)  shew  my  opinion  touching  the  commoditie,  and  discom- 
moditie  of  mariage,_^  and  the  best  meane  to  Hue  quiet  in  wed-> 
lock  chaunsing  vpo"  a  shrew. 

"  First,  considering  the  state  of  mariage  in  general!,  God 
himselfe  hath  ordayned  it  as  holy.  Nature,  hath  established 
it  as  honest :  Reason  doth  counsell  it  as  profitable :  and  all 
nations  haue  allowed  it,  as  necessarie:  and  therefore,  with 
the  apostle,  I  commend  it  as  honorable  amongst  all  men. 

"  ilappy  is  that  man   (sayth  Jesus  Syrach)  that  hath  a 

vertuous 


si 

vertnons  wife.  The  number  of  his  yeares  shall  be  double.  A 
vertuous  woman  maketh  her  husband  a  ioyful  man  :  whether 
he  be  rich  or  pool-e,  he  may  alwayes  haue  a  merry  hart.  A. 
Woman  that  is  silent  of  tongue,  shamfast  in  countinance,  sober 
in  behauiour,  and  honest  in  condition,  adorned  with  vertuous 
qualities  correspondent,  is  like  a  goodly  pleasant  flower,  dect 
with  the  colours  of  al  other  flowers  in  the  field  which  shall  be 
giuen  for  a  good  portion  to  such  a  one  as  feareth  God.  But 
he  that  shall  preferre  the  gifts  of  nature  and  fortune,  before 
grace  and  vertue :  hauirig  more  respecte  to  a  cleane  hand  with 
a  faire  smiling  countenance:  the~  a  cleane  hart  with  good 
conditions,  shall  after  find  that  he  feareth,  and  misse  that  he 
most  desireth.    Wanting  neyther  time  to  repent  nor  matter  to 

cpmplaine  vpon ■ 

"  A  quiet  man  that  matcheth  himselfe  to  a  shrewe,  taketh 
vpon  him  a  verie  harde  aduenture,  hee  shall  finde  compackt  in 
a  little  flesh,  a  great  number  of  bones  too  hard  to  disgust. 
Yea  [with]  such  saintes  are  some  men  matched  withall,  ihat 
if  all  their  deitiaQndes  should  be  graunted,  and  all  that  they 
are  agreeued  withall,  redressed,  Sampson's  strength,  Job's 
patience,  and  Salomon's  wisedome,  were  all  too  little.  And 
therefore  some  do  ihinke  wedlocke  to  be  that  same  purgatorie, 
which  learned  diuines  haue  so  long  contended  about,  or  a 
sharpe  penance  to  bring  sinnefuU  men  to  heauen.  A  merry 
fellow  hearing  a  preacher  say  in  his  sermon,  that  whosoeuer 
would  be  saued,  must  take  vp  and  beare  his  cross,  ran  straight 

to  his  wife,  &  cast  her  vpon  bis  back 

"  Finally,  he  that  will  Hue  quiet  in  wedlocke,  must.be 
courteous  in  speech,  cheareful  in  countinance,  proutdent  for 
his  house,  careful!  to  traine  vp  his  children  in  vertue,  and 
patient  in  bearing  the  infirmities  of  his  wife.  Let  all  the  keyes 
hang  at  her  girdle,  only  the  purse  at  his  own.  He  must  also 
be  voide  of  ielosie,  which  is  a  vanity  to  thinke,  and  more  folly 
to  suspect.  For  eyther  it  needeth  not,  or  booteth  not,  and  to 
be  ielious  without  a  cause  is  the  next  way  to  haue  a  cSuse. 

This  is  the  only  way,  to  make  a  woman  dura :        [rnum. 
To  sit  &  smyle  &  laugh  her  out,  and  not  a  word,' but 

*  The  bird  that  seelly  foule 

Doth  warne  men  to  beware  ■- 
Who  lighteth  not  on  euery  bush,  ^ 

For  feare  of  cj-aftie  snare. 

*  A  few  passages  from  contemporary  poets  were  adopted  by 
Wright.  In  the  margin  of  these  lines  are  the  initials  E.  S.  and 
it  is  evidently  the  production  of  the  writer  with  same'  signature 
in  the-  P^radite  of  Dainty  Deuices. 

B  2  The 


52 

I'he  mouse  that  shunnes  the  trappe^; 

Do  shewe  vchat  harmes  do  lye : 
Within  the  sweete  betraying  bayte. 

That  oft  deceaueth  the  eye. 
The  fish  alwayes  *  the  hooka, 

Though  hunger  bids  him  bite. 
And  houereth  itill  about  the  worme. 

Whereon  is  hid  delight. 
If  birdes  and  beastes  can  see. 

Whereas  their  danger  lyes: 
How  should  a  mischiefe  scape  man's  head. 
That  hath  both  wit  and  eyes?" 
The  author  then  gives  "  certaine  necessarie  rules  boiii 
pleasant  and  profitable  for  preuenting  of  sickenesse,  and 
preseruing  of  health:  prescribed  by  D.  Dyet,  D.  Quiet, 
and  D.  Merryman,"  which  appears  to  have  suggested 
to  Samuel  Rowlands  a  versification  of  a  similar  nature.f 
At  the  end  "  followeth  certaine  pretty  notes  and  pleasant 
conceits,  delightfull  to  many,  and  hurtfull  to  none."     I 
shall  select  two. 

"  The  naturall  inclination  of  an  English  man. 

"  An  Englishman  by  nature  is  saydeto  be  firme  in  friend- 
ship, constant  in  promise,  vnpatient  in  anger,  courragions  in 
fight,  without  feare  of  death,  courteous  to  his  inferioiirs,  piti- 
full  to  strangers,  faithful!  to  his  friends,  and  fearefuU  to  his 
foes.  More  readie  to  reuenge  an  iniurie  then  proffer  any 
witkout  cause,  be  can  not  brooke  a  stranger  to  be  his  equall, 
nor  to  be  dared  of  any.  Alwayes  desirous  of  nouelties,  ueuer 
long  content  with  one  state,  nor  one  fashion,  greatly  deliglrted 
in  royal  brauety,  and  excesse  of  dyet,  taking  more  pleasure  to 
heare  himselfe  commended  with  lyes,  then  reproued  with 
truthes.  He  is  sayd  to  haue  long  eares,  a  short  tongue,  broade 
eyes,  and  light  fingers;  quicke  to  heare,  slow  to  speake,  ready 
to  spye,;  and  apt  to  strike.  Few  words  and  gentle  speeches 
winneth  bis  heart." 

"  Jpoisie  fdr  a  glass e  penned  merrily  at  the  request  of 
a  Gentlewoman. 
"  Vewing  in  this  glasse  the  singular  shape  wherewith  God 
hath  garnished  you  aboue  other  creatures  to  his  owne  image,  it 

*  Qu.  misprint  for  "  all  eyes." 
t  See  p.  i6j  of  Vol.  I.  of  the  present  work. 

shall 


53 

«hall  be  requisite  with  continuall  trauell  and  labour  (least  so 
excellent  a  worke  be  stayned  by  your  negligence  crmisde- 
meanour)  that  you  be  answerable  as  abilitie  shall  seriie, 'in 
working  his  will :  which  is  not  in  crisping  and  curling  :  Irisk- 
ing  and  frounsing :  .  painting  and  proining :  to  better  your 
beauty  with  strange  trim  attyre,  as  notconlent  with  his  fashion 
in  framing  you,  but  rather- as  you  excel!  in  giftes,  seeketo 
excell  in  grace,  .remembring  alwayes  that  as  plainnesse  putteth 
on,  so  painting  putteth  out  the  image  of  Christ :  which  con- 
sidered your;  attyre  shall  not  be  sluttish,  but  sober  :  not  drab- 
bish,  but,  decent :  not  whoorish,  but  honest :  not  gawish,  but 
godly :  as  beseemeth  Christianitie." 

J.  H. 


'y  A  Summons  for  Sleepers.  Wherein  most  grieiious 
and  notorious  offenders  are  cited  to  hrins  forth  true 

frulps  of  repentance,  before  the  day  of  the  Lord  now 
at  hand.  Hereunto  is  annexed, ^  a  patterne  for  Pas- 
tors, deciphering  hriejly  the  dueties  pertaining  to  thai 

function,  by  Leonard  Wright.  Woe  be  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  earth,  and  the  sea,  for  the  divel  is  come 
downevnto  you,  whose  wrath  is  great,  because  hee 
knoweth  that  his  time  is  but  short.  Apoc.  xii.  12. 
Be  sober  and  watch,  i£c.  Pet.  v.S.  Happie  are 
those  seruants  which  the  Lord  when  he  commeth  shall 

find  waking.  Ltike  xii.  37.  1589.  qto.  30  leaves, 
no  printer's  name. 

£Again  as]  newli  corrected  and  augmented.  Imprinted 
by  George  Purslowe,   161%.  qio. 

"  The  Epistle  to  the  Reader  [commences]  ;  To  feede  thy 
fancie  with  friuolous  fables,  gentle  reader,  (as  to  tejlfhee  of 
drowsie  Endimion,  who  desired  of  lupiter,  to  sleepe  perpetuall  ; 
ior  Epimenides,  who  in  seeking  his  father's  shcepc,  tooke  a 
nappe  of  fortie  and  seuen  yeares  long,  or  those  seuen  supposed 
saintes,  whom  the  golden  legend  reporteth  to  baue  slept  two 
hundreth  yeares  and  odde)  is  no  part  of  my  purpose.  But 
rniher  as  one  in  griefe  of  conscience,  for  (he  zeale  of  nxy  God, 
what  in  melyeth,  to  wake  and  stirrc  vp  thO'-e  wicked  and  sip- 
full  sluggard.';,  whom  theciirsed  serpen!  in  paradice,  aboqe  fiiie 

e  3  thousand 


54 

thousand  fiue  hundreth  sixtie  and  two  yeares  past,  applying 
not  the  finne  of  the  sea  calfe  to  their  heades,  but  that  in- 
channted  apple  of  perdition  to  their  hartes,  hath  so  venou- 
mously  infected  with  contagious  poyson  of  iniquitie,  and 
lulled  so  soundly  a  sleepe  in  the  carelesse  cradle  of  securitie  : 
that  neither  the  golden  belles  of  Aaron,  the  thundring  trumpe 
of  Esay,  the  well  tuned  sinnbals  of  Dauid,  the  pleasan-t  har- 
monic of  the  Euangelists,  nor  the  sweete  comfortable  pipe  of 
Christe  himselfe,  could  once  as  yet  allure  them  to  repentance 
and  amendment  of  life:  trusting  that  God  by  this  my  plains 
rough  summons,  penned  without  feare,  or  flatterie,  shall  now, 
in  the  dawning  of  the  day,  ring  such  a  peale  at  the  dore  of 
their  conscience,  as  shall  either  moue  them  at  length  to  loue 
him  in  his  mercies,  prouoke  them  to  feare  him  in  his  iustice, 

or  leaue  them  vnexcusable  in  the  day  of  vengeance .To 

conclude,  gentle  reader,  I  craue  only  thy  friendly  censor  with- 
out partial!  tie,  not  forgetting  the  good  Hermit,  who  hauing  three 
of  his  friendes  come  to  visit  him,  for  want  of  belter  dainties  to 
entertaine  them,  bestowed  on  euerie  of  them  an  olde  apple, 
halfe  putrified  with  spots.  The  first  friend,  to  shew  his  affec- 
tion,  deuoured  his  apple  hartely,  souiid  and  rotten  together  as 
it  was.  The  second,  more  nice  then  wise,  because  his  was 
spotted  in  part,  disdainefully  threw  away  the  whole.  The  third, 
making  choice  of  the  best,  reiected  oilely  the  rest.  So  doe  I 
wish  thee,  not  with  the  first  friend,  to  deuoure  the  badde  with 
the  good  :  neither  with  the  second,  to  cast  away  that  is  good 
because  of  some  bad:  but  with  the  tliird,  to  accept  and  vse 
that  is  wholesom,  and  refuse  that  is  Jothsom.  Vale  in  Christo, 
Leonard  Wright." 

Vice  and  folly  called  forth  the  warm  and  honest  in. 
dignation  of  the  writer.  Rough,,  pointed,  and  tempe- 
rately severe,  the  attack  was  general ;  like  the  Fool  in  a 
crowd,  who,  fearful  a  knave  might  escape,  belaboured 
every  one.  The  usual  characters  of  usurers,  lawyers, 
courtiers,  priests,  matrorls,  &c.  pass  more  conspicuously 
beneath  the  lash  of  the  satirist. 

"  Grieuous  abuse  in  tliis  land,  is  the  corruption  of  iustice, 
by  meanes  of  too  many  ambitious  lawiers,  who  swarme  as 
thicke  now,  as  the  filers  in  times  past,  and  are  as  couetous  as 
they  were  superstitious:  and  as  those  wilfull  beggers  were 
maintained  of  deuotion  and  charitie,  and  the  marchants  are 
enriched  through  pride  and  brauerie :  so  doe  these  Hue  by 
malice  and  enuie,  by  whom  our  good  lawes  are,  abused,  as 
though  they  had  becne  made  rather  to  enrich  those  lawiers 

then 


55 

then  for  execution  of  iustice,  and  beconie  like  spider  webbes, 
where  great'  flies  passe  easily  through,  but  litle  flies  are 
«trangied::  or  as  a  baite  to  catch  birds:  the  lawiers  are  the 
foulers,  the  iudge  the  net,  and  the  poore  clients  the  birdes : 
for  though  their  cause  be  neuer  so  plaine  and  sure,  yet  were 
he  much  better  to  giue  halfe  the  price  of  his  coate  at  the  first, 
then  to  defend  the  whole  through  briberie  and  corruption  of 
justice:  so  long  as  their  clients  continue  in  greasing  their 
vnsatiable  handes  with  pnguentum  ruhrum,  they  seeme  to 
feele  their  matter,  incourage  them  to  proceede,  and  extolling 
their  cause,  as  though  the  day  were  alreadie  wunne,  till  they 
haue  drawne  all  the  money  out  of  their  purses,  and  the  marrow 
out  of  their  bones.  At  last  when,  all  is  gone>  so  as  they  cease 
to  feede  them,  as  the  crow  doth  her  brattes,  then  waxe  they 
colde  as  a  stone,  and  finding  one  cauell  or  other  send  them 
Iiome  ■  to  agree  amongst  their  neighbors,  ah  fooles  so  they 
might  haue  done  before  I 

"  Couetous  patrones,  are  so  greatly  infected  with  the  golden 
dropsie,  as  their  church  doores  wil  not  be  opened  without  a 
siluerkeye:  hee  that  will  haue  a  church  lining  (what  other 
good  gifts  soever  he  bee  indued  withall)  he  must  needes  bringe 
this  learning  with  him,  to  know  who  was  Meichizedeck's 
father  and  mother,  or  els  a  dish  of  Maister  Latimer's  apples,  or 
he  may  cough  for  any  benefice 

"  This  land  is  also  most  vily  corrupted  with  intollerable 
pride,  with  such  a  confused  mingle  mangle,  and  varietie  of 
apish  toyes  in  apparfell,  enery  day  flanting  in  new  fashions, 
to  deforme  God's  workemanship  in  their  bodies,  as  great  mon- 
strous ruffes  starched  in  the  ditiel's  licour,  and  set  with  instru- 
ments of  vanitie,  dublets  with  great  burssen  bellies,  as  though 
their  guttes  were  readie  to  fall  out,  some  garded  like  French- 
men,* some  fringed  like  Vetiitians,  some  their  heades  Turk- 
ish, their  backes  Spanish,  and  their  wastes  Italians:  some  their 
•haire  curled,  and  their  beardes  writhen  to  make  them  looke 
grimme  and  terrible,  as  though  they  had  scene  the  diuel,  with 
long  daggers  at  their  backes,  to  kill  euery  one  they  me6te 
prouder  then  themseiues :  with  such  value  riot,  excesse  and 
yaine  curiositie,  that  I  thinke  they  haue  made  a  league  with 
patan,  a  couenant  with  hell,  and  an  obligation  with  the  diuel 
to  marrie  his  eldest  daughter."-|- 

In 

•  French  nets  do  catch  English  fooles.     Margin. 
t  The  curious  reader  may  be  amused  with  comparing  this  with 
the  following  account  o\  the  fashions  as  existing  in  the  time  of 
Edward  HI,  where  the  honesty  of  description  must  excuse  the 

E  4.  blunt 


5^ 

In  thp  Pattern  for  Pastors,  the  admonition  extends  to 
women  preachers,   and    the  author  blushes  "  in   their 
behalfe  ip  calling  to  mind  the  vnshamefastness  of  that, 
sexe." 

J.  H. 


Tl  A  Treatise  entytuled  the  Treasure  of  a  GoodMyrtde, 
famyliarlie  written  to  a  frinde,  ly  Ry.  Denys,  Es- 
qtiyor.  MS.  4°.  170  leaves,  exclusive  of  PedicaiioD, 
&c.  &c, 

This  unfinished  MS.,  seems  to  have  been  intended  for 
the  press  by  the  author,  and  its  numerous  classical  allu- 
sions shew  him  to  have  been  a  man  of  learning:  there 
are  several  pieces  of  poetry  interspersed,  and  a  few  ex- 
tracts may  be  acceptable. ' 

On  the  last  leaf  appears  the  following  memorandum, 
written  by  some  possessor  of  the  MS.  probably,  pf  the 
author's  family.  As  it  throws  light  on  the  "  qlose  of. 
his  days,"  I  transcribe  it. 

"  At  the  seige  of  Eunigande  in  Brittaine,  in  May,  15^1, 
during  the  tyme  of  the  assault,  Captaine  Denys,  a  braue  gentell- 
man,  being  sent  w'^  some  forcis  to  make  oflFers  of  a  scalado  to 
one  other  part  of  the  tovirne:  advanci~g  himselfe  to  farre  re- 
blunt  expression  of  the  chronicler.  '■  In  this  time  [about  1346] 
enghshme"  so  moch  haunted  &  cleued  to  the  wodnesse  &  foly  of 
the  strangers,  That  fro''  tyme  of  comyng  of  the  Henaudresfthe 
queen,  Phihppa,  was  daur.  of  Count  Heinault.]  xviij  yere  passed.. 
they  ordeyned  &  changid  them  eu  y  yere  diifse  shappis  &  disgis- 
nigs  of  clothing  of  long  large  and  wide  clothis  destitut  &  diseit, 
from  al  old  honeste&  good  vsage.  Andan  other  tyme  short  clothis 
strayt  wasted  dagged  &  kyt  &  on  eu"y  side  slatered  &  botonedand 
with  sleucs  &  tapitis  of  surcotes  &  hodis  on"  long  &  ou  modi 
hangyng,  that  if  J  the  soth  shall  say,  they  wer  more  like  to  tor- 
mentouris  &  cleuels  in  ther  clothing  &  shoying  &  other  aray,than 

t  ,"n':"'  ^"i  ?  '^T'^"  "'"'^  "y^'^'y  yi'  P^^^'^  the  men  in  aray 
|co  ..ou.  loker,  for  they  wer  so  strait  clothid  that  they  let  hang 

the,  .  '^^It  ''^  Tl  ^"'^'"  ^''='-  '^'"fhis  for  to  hele  &  hide 
lm,^,;V;'.i  /  ""^''  d'^gysyngee  and  pride  p~auentur  aft  ward 
if  enlld"\t""7''  ">ony  myshappis  &  myrchief  in  t^ie  reame 
pt  englond.    Chronicle  of  St.  Albans,  1483.     A  yiij  rev.- 

ceUL'd 


57 

ccuQd  a  musket  shote  in  the  bottome  of  his  belly,  •wherejof  he 
died  about  twelue  of  the  clocke  the  same  night." 

"  TKe  auctor  to  hys  looke. 

"  Go  lytle  booke,  shame  nott  to  show  thy  face, 
Thy  father's  fawtes,  excuse  yffy^  thow  may; 
YiFnot,  yett  pray  they  wyll  the  nott  disgrace, 
Synce  to  thy  betters,  thow  wyltt  styll  obay ; 
Butt  tell  them  playne  thy  subject  ys  not  vayne, 
Wherby  they  hede  thy  presens  to  dysdayneV 
YfFy'  thy  scyll,  or  larninge  they  do  blame, 
ConfFes  the  same  &  say  y"  ys  butt  srnalle, 
&  y'  thow  selcyst  nether  prayse  nor  fame. 
Butt  to  advance  Codes  glory  chefe  of  all, 
ic  to  sett  fprthp  in  spyght  of  all  thy  foes. 
Thy  minde  *  thow  menyst  to  dysclose." 

Following  the  above  are  dedications  "  To  the  Right 
Worshipfull  his  singulor  good  nevew,  Oliviere  Saint 
John,  Esquicr,  brother  to  the  Right  Honorable  the  Lord 
-Saint  lohn,  of  Blettsoe,  health  and  happie.  felicitie." 
'' To  the  Ryghtci  Honorable  his  singular  good  Lordes 
Henrye,  Earle  of  Kent,  and:  lohn  Lorde  Saynt.  lohn, 
barne  of  Bletsoe :  healthe,  honor,  aiid  bappi?  felicetieu" 

"  The  Epistle  to  the  Reader,"  next,  occupying  seven 
pages. — "  The  author,  in. the  praise  of  a  gopd  mynde,'.' 
eighty-four  lines. 

"  What  thinge  of  greater  price 

On  e^rth  may  any  fynde, 
Tiybat  gpulde  or  ryches  rpay  compare 

Wyth  vertu  of  the  mynde. 
The  mynde  doth  still  pos§esse. 

In  man  a  kitiglie  place. 
And  guydes  the  steppes  of  mortal!  wighteSj 

I  And  rules  in  every  case. 

Now  will  I  sale  tio  more. 

But  he  that  doeth  enioy 
So' good  a  mynde,  so  greate  a  grace^ 

May  lyve  w"'out  anoye. 
Finis-" 

*  An  uncertain  word  in  the  M^.   . 

The 


58 

«  The  Author  in  the  praise  of  Vertue:'  1 18  lines. 

"  Who  wyll  ensue  the  statelie  steppes. 
That  Hiountes  to  honor  hie. 
And  doth  entende  wyth  faaie  to  lyve. 

And  after  mounte  the  skie. 
Let  him  fyrst  clymbe  the  loftie  hill 

Wheron  dame  Pnidence  syttes, 
Wyth  watchfuU  eye  there  to  behould, 
All  things  that  chieflye  fyttes. 
****** 

Loe  thus  is  vertu  of  the  mynde 

The  iuell  of  this  lief. 
The  onelie  stale  of  happie  state, 

A  gyft  that  is  not  lyef, 
And  as  the  glyttering  goulde  doe  shine 

From  forge  all  fined  new. 
So  doe  they  shine  aboue  the  rest. 

That  vertu  doth  ensue. 
Finis." 

The  first  part  containeth  fourteen  chapters  —  the 
seconde  part  thirteen  chapters — the  thirde  part  left  un- 
finished, apparently  from  the  author's  death. 

At  the  end  are  several  meditations  and  godly  rules. 
Take  "  gentle  reader,"  as  a  specimen  of  his  prose,  the 
following  from  the  thirteen  chapter,  part  first. 

''  To  speake  furder  of  good  and  ill  princes,  the  good  Empe- 
rour  Marcus  Aurelius  was  not  so  much  praised  and  beloved  for 
his  vertues  as  Comodus  his  sonne  was  hated  in  Borne  for  his 
vices;  what  eares  do  not  abhorre  to  heare  of  the  cruelties  of 
^ero,  and  the  wickedness  of  Tyherius  and  Heliogahabis,  all 
three  wycked  Emperors,  that  corrupted  all  the  world  w"'  their 
vices,  and  who  doth  riot  delight  to  heare  the  praises  of  the 
geijtill  Emperour  Traianus,  that  was  an  example  of  vertu  to 
all  Princes,  'but  the  noble  Jarmanicus  for  his  worthyenes  & 
vertue  was  so  beloved,  that  when  the  Romaynes  heard  of  his 
deathe,  as  Swetonius  reporteth,  they  battered  the  temples  w"' 
stones,  they  threw  downe  the  aultors  of  their  goddes  some 
dyd  hurle  their  houshold  goddes  into  the  streetes,  and  finally 
other  did- cast  awaie  their  children  latelie  borne.  Such  is  the 
fiommendacion  and  love  of  vertu  w'**  is  of  so  greate  force  that 
it  Wynnes  praise  of  a  man's  oune  enemies " 

Bristol,  1810.  J.  F. 

Old 


S9 

%  Old  Musical  Airs, 

i.* 
*'  All  ye  that  sleep  in  pleasure. 

Awake  and  loose  not  time's  faire  treasure ; 
Time  doth  neuer  cease  his  restlesse  turning, 

0  I  repent  the  time  I  spent  in  loue's  sweet  burning. 

ii. 

First  with  lookes  he  liu'd  and  dy'd. 

Then  with  sighes  her  faith  he  try'd : 

After  sighes  he  sent  his  teares, 

AH  to  shew  his  trembling  feares  : 

At  last  he  said  a  truer  heart  was  neuer, 

Pittie  Daphuie,  disdaine  me  not  for  euer, 

iii. 

1  alwaies  lou'd  to  call  my  Lady,  Rose, 
For  in  her  cheekes  doe  roses  sweetly  glose ; 
And  from  her  lips  she  such  sweet  odours  threw. 
As  roses  doe  'gainst  Phoebus  morning  view ; 

But  when  1  thought  topul  't,  Hope  was  bereft  me, 
My  Rose  was  gone  and  naught  but  prickles  left  me, 

iv. 
Ay  me,  when  .to  the  ayre  I  breath  rjjy  playning, 
To  merry  fountaines  my  disdaining ; 
When  to  rude  rockes  and  pleasant  groues, 
I  tell  all  nry  vnhappy  loues; 
They  heare  me  whilst  I  thus  condole. 
But  with  their  Ecco,  call  liie  foole. 

*  Alt^vs.  ne  first  set  of  Madrigals  of  5  -parts:  apt  both  for  Viols 
andVoyces.  Newly  composed  by  Henry  Lichfield.  Londom  printed 
for  M.  L.l.  B.  and  T.  S.  the  Assignes  of  W.  Barky.  1613.  Dedica- 
tion addressed  "  to  the  Right  Honor.ible  and  most  renowmed 
Lady  for  all  Honour  and  Vertue,  and  my  most  i;oblfi  Lady  and 
Mistris  the  Lidy  Cheyney,"'  wherein  Lichfield  observes  en  the 
pains  bestowed  "this  I  can  say,  th^t  as  stories  relate  of  Cleanthes, 
Lenos  scholler,  how  in  the  night  time  he  drew  water  that  in  the 
day  time  he  might  haue  leasure  to  heare  and  study  philosophic, 
so  I  bestowing  the  day  in  your  Ladyships  more  nccessarie  busi- 
nesses, borrowed  some  howres  of  the  night  to  bestow  vpon  these 
my  compositions,  so  that  whatsoeuer  duliiesse  and  vnpleasingnesie 
is  in  them  may  well  be  imputed  to  the  dull  and  sullen  time  whereiij 
they  I ooke  their  being."  Chiistopher  Brooke  has  two  sonnets 
prefixed,  one  ijpon  "  Lady  Cheney  and  her  court-like  bouse,  at 
Tuddington,"  the  other  "  to  the  Avfhor  vpon  his  piusical) 
piuse,"     Contains  x;c  Songs, 

V. 


6o 

V.  (First  pari.) 
When  first  I  saw  those  cruell  eyes. 
The  author's  of  my  cryes. 
Adoring  them  for  saints  diuine, 
Plac'd  in  such  a  heau'nly  shrine; 
you  told  me  then  to  proue  me. 
You  would  for  euer  loue  me. 

vi.  (Second  part.) 
If  this  be  loue  to  scorne  my  crying. 
To  laugh  at  me  when  I  lye  dying ; 
To  kill  my  hart  with  too  much  grieuing. 
To  flye  and  yeeld  me  no  releeuing : 
If  loue  be  thus  to  proue  me,. 
O  then  I  know  you  loue  me. 

vii. 
Iniurious  houres  whilst  any  ioy  doth  blesse  me. 
With  speedy  wings  you  flye  arid  so  release  me ; 
But  if  some  sorrow  doe  oppresse  my  hart, 
YoQ  creepe  as  if  you  neuer  ment  to  part. 

viii. 

O,  my  griefe  were  it  disclosed. 
To  her  that  scornes  my  playning : 

Or  were  she  but  disposed. 
To  turne  her  eyes  disdayning: 

From  me  that  sit  in  sadnesse. 

My  griefe  would  turne  to  gladnesse." 


J.  H. 


%  Choice  Psalmes  put  into  Mustek,  for  three  voices. 
The  most  of  which  may  properly  enough  he  sung  by 
any  three,  with  a  thorough  Base.     Compos'd  by 

and         \Lawe5,  Brothers;  and  Servants  to  his 
William     J.       _  Majestie. 

With  divers  Elegies,  set  in  muslck  by  seu' rail  friends 
upon  the  Death  of  Pfilliam  Lawes.  Jnd  at  the  end 
of  the  Thorough,  Base  are  added  nine  Canons  of  three 
and  foure  voices  made  by  William  Laives.  London, 
printed  by  James  Young,  for  Humphrey  Moseley,  at 

the 


6i 

the  Prince's  Armis  in  S,  Pauls  Church  yard,  and foP 
Richard  IVodenothe  at  the  Star  under  S.  Peter's 
Church  in  Cornhill.  1648. 

Dedicated  by  Henry  Lawes  to  Charles  the  Firsts  Idling  him 
"many  of  them  were  compos' d  by  my  brother  (William 
Lawes)  whose  life  and  endeavours  were  devoted  to  your  ser- 
vice; whereof  I,  who  knew  his  heart,  am  a  surviving  witnesse 
and  therein  he  persisted  to  that  last  minute  when  be  fell  a  will- 
ing sacrifice  for  your  Majestie."  And  in  the  address  "  to  the 
reader^"  says,  "1  have  been  much  importuned  to  send  to  the 
presse  and  shotild  not  have  been  per&waded  to  it  now  (es- 
pecially in  these  dissonant  times)  but  to  doe  a  right  (or  at 
l?ast  to  shew  my  love)  to  the  memory  of  my  brother,  unfortd- 
nately  lost  in  these  unnaturall  warres;  yet  lyes  in  the  bed  of 
honour,  and  expir'd  in  the  service  and  defence  of  the  King,  his 
master.  Living  he  was  generally  known,  and  (for  his  parts) 
ihudh  honoured  by  persons  of  best  quality  and  condition.  To 
give  a  further  character  of  him  I  shall  forbe;ire  because  of  my 
neer  relation,  and  rather  referre  that  to  those  Elegies  which 

many  of  his  noble  friends  have  written  in  a  peculiar  book 

Besides  his  fancie,  of  the  three  four  live  and  six  parts  to  the 
viols  and  organ,  he  hath  made  above  thirty  severall  sorts  of 
musick  for  voices  and  instruments :  neither  was  there  anye  in- 
strument then  in  use  but  he  compos'd  to  it  so  aptly  as  if  he  had 
only  studied  that." 

The  introductory  poems  commence  with  one  written 
by  a  friend  of  Sandys,  whose  veriion  of  the  Psalms  the 
brothers  united  iii  composing  music  to.     It  is  addressed 

»'  To  the  incomparable  brothers,  Mr.  Henry  and  Mr. 
William  Lawes,  (Servants  to  his  Majestie)  upon  the 
setting  of  these  Psalmes. 

"  The  various  Musick,  both  for  aire  and  art. 
These  arch-musicians,  in  their  sev'rall  waies 
Composed,  and  acted ;  merit  higher  praise" 
Tlien  wbnder-wantihg  knowledge  can  iTnpart, 

Brothers  in  blood,  in  science  and  affcctjon, 
Belov'd  by  those  that  envie  their  renowne; 
In  a  false  time  true  servants  to  the  crowne  : 
■Lawes  of  themselves,  needing  no  more  direction. 

The  depth  of  rausique  one  of  them  did  sound. 
The  t'other  took  his  flight  into  the  aire  ; 
O  then  thrice  happy  and  industrious  paire. 
That  both  the  depth  and  height  of  musique  found. 

Which 


62 

Which  my  sweet  friend,  the  life  of  lover's  pens,  • 
In  so  milde  manner  hath  attain'd  to  do. 
He  looks  the  better  and  his  hearers  too; 
So  in  exchange  all  ladies  are  his  friends. 
And  when  our  meditations  are  too  meane 
To  keep  their  raptures  longer  on  the  wing. 
They  soar'd  up  to  that  prophet  and  that  King, 
Whose  love  is  God  and  Heav'n  his  glorious  scene. 
Setting  his  psalmes,  whereby  both  they^and  we 
May  singing  rise  to  immortalitie. 

^.  Tounshehd." 

The  others  are  "  to  his  friend  Mr.  Henry  Lawes,"  by 
J.  Harrington,  followed  by  the  well-known  sonnet  of 
J.  Milton  ;  "  to  my  worthy  friend  (and  countriman)"  by 
Fr.  Sambrooke, 

The  work  is  divided  into  three  portionsj  the  first  of 
Psalms  set  by  Henry  Lawes,  who  commences  the  second 
the  "  peculiar  book,"  with  "  a  pastorall  Elegie  to  the 
memory  of  my  deare  brother,  William  Lawes. 

"  Cease,  oh  cease,  ye  jolly  shepherds,  ceaseyour  merry  layes;' 
Pipe  no  more  in  medowes  green,  crown'd  with  ivie  and  with 

bayes  : 
Let  your  flockes  no  more  be  seen  on  the  verdant  hillocks  spread. 
But  tune  your  oaten  reeds  with  saddest  notes  to  mourn  ;       * 
For  gentle  Willy,  yourlov'd  Lawes,  is  dead! 

Weep  shepherd  swaines. 
For  him.  that  was  the  glory  of  your  plaiires ; 
He  could  appease 
The  sulleii  seas. 
And  calme  the  fury  of  the  mind  : 
But  now,  alas!   in  silent  urne  hee  lyes. 
Hid  from  us,  and  never  must  returne. 

Henry  Lawes." 

"^  All  Elegie  to  the  memory  of  his  friend  and  fellow, 
JMr.  William  Lawes,  servant  to  his  Majestic.  - 

"  O  doe  not  now  lament  and  Cry, 
'Tis  fate  concludes  we  all  must  die  : 
Rather  rejoice  that  he  is  there 
Mending  the  tnusique  of  the  splierej 
We  are  dull  souies  of  little  worth, 
And  coldly  here  his  praise  set  forth : 

Who 


63 

Who  doth  that  truly,  sure  must  be 

Instructed  in  divinity : 

Harke,  O  harke,  the  celestial  quire» 

Doth  pause  to  heare  his  sweeter  lyre  : 

There  he  is  set  free  from  vaine  feares, 

Or  heart-heav'd  sighes,  or  brinish  teares : 

Could  thou  thy  fancy  send  us  downe, 

111  musique  we  should  place  a  crowne 

So  harmonious  on  thy  faire  herse. 

Should  out-tongue  Ovid  in  his  sweetest  verse. 

By  John  Wilson,  Doctor  in  Musique." 

"  To  the  memory  of  his  much  respected  friend  and 
fellow,  Mr.  William  Lawes. 

"  But  that,  lou'd  friend,  we  have  been  taught. 
Our  dearest  dust  to  mixe  with  dust  j 
I'm  with  thy  lyre  so  strangely  caught. 
My  true  affection  counts  it  iust : 
And  grounds  it  on  a  pious  care^ 
Thy  ashes  to  involve  in  aire  : 
For  thy  rare  fancy  from  its  birth. 
Far  inconsistent  is  with  earth, 
Or  any  inferiour  element, 
Bring  for  that  subtle  region  meant : 
How  can  dull  clay  press  down  thine  eyes, 
'  And  not  an  earth-quake  straight  arise. 

lohn  Taylor." 

Others  by  John  Cob,  Organist  of  his  Majesties  Chap- 
pell  Royall;  Captain  Edmond  Foster;  Simon  Ive;  John 
Jinkins;  and 

"  j^n  Elegie  on  his  friend  Mr.  William  Lawes. 

"  Bound  by  the  neere  conjunction  of  our  soules. 
Thus  I  condole  thee,  thus  bedew  thy  herse; 

And  whilst  my  throbbing  heart  thy  exit  towles. 
Accept  this  sacrifice  of  weeping  verse. 

What  eyes  can  drily  stubborne  bee,  when  Lawes 

Hesteth  at  such  a  long  continued  pause? 

Let  teares  like  pendents  garnish  eu'ry  note, 

Wav'd  to  and  fro  with  gales  of  mournfuU  sighes; 

And  let  the  widow'd  Muses  joyntly  vote. 
To  celebrate  with  griefe  thy  obsequies : 

For  with  thee  vanish't  all  their  airie  pride. 

Muffled  in  clay  that  erst  was  stellifi'd. 

Since 


64 

Since  then  i'  th'  center  sleeps  tfue  harniiony, 
;  Let  him,  that's  greedie  of  that  sacred  gaine. 

Close  to  his  mother  earth  his  eare  apply, 

There  Wait  to  heare  some  sad  melcidious  straincs. 
Within  this  womb  hath  pal6  impartial!  death,  ^^ 
Too  soon  confin'd  the  quintessence  of  breath." 

lohn  Hilton. 

The  third  portion  is  the  composition  of  William 
Lawes,  and  consists  of  the  Psalms,  thirty  in  nurnber,  and 
"  an  Elegie  on  the  death  of  his  very  worthy  friend  and 
fellow  servant,  M.  John  Tomkins,  Organist  of  his  Ma- 
festie's  Chappell  RoyalL 

"  Musick,  the  master  of  thy  art  is  dead. 
And  with  him  all  thy  ravis'ht  sweets  are  fled : 
Then  bear  a  paTt  in  thine  own  tragedy. 
Let's  celebrate  strange  griefe  with  harmony : 
Instead  of  teares  shed  on  his  mournfuU  herse. 
Let's  howle  sad  notes  stol'n  from  his  own  pure  verse. 

By  William  Lawes." 

J.  H. 


^  j1  Proclamation  set  out  hy  the  K.  of  Spaine.  Where'm 
order  is  taken  for  the  vse  and  trafficke  of  merchan- 
dise, with  those  of  Holland  Zealand  and  others,  asw^ll 
ly  tuaier  as  hy  land.  Truely  translated  out  of  the . 
Dutch  copy  printed  at  Andwerpe  in  February  last. 
[Printer's  device  of  "  vbique  floret."]  London:  Im- 
printed hy  lohn  Wolfe,  and  are  to  he  sold  by  William 
Wright.  [1592]  qto.  4  leaves. 

The  prohibition  was  "  all  sorts  of  armor,  &  munitions  of 
warre,  corn,  and  vittels,  bell-mettle,  and  mettle.  Teasels,  Hops, 
barkes  of  trees,  flax,  ihred  of  flax,  and  of  woosted,  talwood  as 
ofoake-tre.es,  elme  trees  and  ash  trees.  And  touching  the 
marchandizcs  which  we  will  not  to  be  brought  hither,  are  these 
following,-  to  wit :  all  clothes,  staramels,  and  generallie  all 
commodilies  of  wollen,  worsted  and  linnen,  wrought  and 
made  in  Ergland,  Holland,  Zealand,  and  like  prouinces." 
Given  at  Brussels  6th  December,  I5C)1.  Published  at  And- 
werp,  'lA  February,  1592,  *  « 

Catalogue 


^5 


Tl  Catalogue  Raisonne  op  the  Works  pub- 
lished BY  Hearne. 

[Continued from  Vol.  I.f,  397.3 

The  last  communication  upon  this  subject  treated  of 
those  works,  published  by  Hearne,  which  related  to 
Regal  Biography;  the  present  is  a  continuatibn  and 
conclusion  of  the  same  department  of  history. 

V.  Benedigtus  Abbas  Petroburgensis  devita  etgestis 
Henrici  II.  eiRicardi  I.  e  Cod.  MS.  in  Bibl.  Harleiana 
descripsit  el  nunc  primus  edidit  Thomas  Hearne. 
Oxon.  e  Th.  Sheld.  1735.  8vo.  2  Vols. 

The  following  are  the  contents  of  these  volumes. 

1.  Pnefatio.  p.  vi.  to  xxvii. 

2.  Appendix  to  p.  Ixiv. 

Some  remarks  in  this  preface  and  appendix  are  worth 
here  bringing  forward  to  the  reader's  notice : 

*'  Dugdale's  Monasticon  Anglicanum. 

"  Quamobrera  rectlssime  faciunt,  qui  Monastici  Anglicani, 
aliorumque  id  genus  operum  [etsi  in  iisdetn  inculta  qusedam 
invenianturi  et  horrida]  sibi  coraparant  exeraplariaj  absque 
quorum  subsidio  quot  quantaeque  re  vera  fuerint  monachorum 
possessiones  ne  quidem  conjcctura  assequi  possumus."  Prae- 
fat.  ix.  [Hearne  then  notices  how  very  rfch  the  Harleian  li- 
brary was  in  this  department  of  antiquities — calling  it,  at  p,  x. . 
"  optimis  auctoribus  undiquaque  conquisitis  instructa]." 

"  Burning  of  the  Cotton  Library. 

■  incendio  illo  acerbo,  quo  nuper  perplura  itidem 

alia  antiquitatis,  monumentaj  in  illa  Bibliotheca,  per  totum 
orbem  terrarura  litterarium  celeberriraa,  reposita,  absumpta 
fuerunt,  hominibus  sane  doctis,  aliisque  etiam  bonis,  miserum 
in  mbdam  eo  nomine  lugentibus,  quippe  qui  optime  viderunt, 
quanta  inde  jerburbatio,  quanta  confusio  jacturaque  antiqua- 
rura  litterarum  consecutura  fuerit,"    Praefat.  xvi. 

VOL.  II.  r  "  Bale, 


66 

"  Bale  and  Leland. 

•»^-^ — >—  Adeo  lit  mihi  videatur,  Baleinm  etiatn,  si  ad-* 
spexisset;,  aliter  de  Benedicto  judiraturum  fuisse,  ita  scilicet, 
ut  inter  scriptores  pressae  fidei  forsitan  nutnerasset.  Forsitan 
inquam,  quia  Baleus,  quomodocunque  bnnarum  litterarum  ad- 
mirator  maximus,  [quem  tamen  non  delueruntj  qui  blasphe- 
inum,  quid  sonet  haec  vox  omnes  iotelligunt,  appellaverint] 
adeo  immoderata  erat  intemperantia  [ornniutn,  Zenonis 
qpinione,  perturbationum  rnatre]  ut  niedicum  eminentissrmura 
!Andream  Bordium,  &c.  summis  afFecerit  contumeliis — raroque 
de  nionachis  [in  quos  convicia  falsa,  absuida,  ridicula,  Creten- 
sis  scelestus  ad  instar,  effudit]  honorifice  vel  loqueretur,  vel 
etiam  sentiretj  secus  atque  Lelandus,  vir  fortis  et  constantis 
animi,  qui  illos,  ut  decuit,  laudibus^  in  qua  re  dixit  proprie  et 
Copiose,  cumulavit."     Praefat.  XX. 

"  Cave. 
■  Guilieltnus  Caveus,  vir  et  orationis  suavis,  et  dili- 


gentia  panter  atque  emulatione  clarus — quem  sane  ego  his  in 
'rebus,  erat  en im  in  eo  inexhausta  aviditas  legendi  scriptores 
EcclesiasticQS'— euro  suranais  viris  comparo."     Praef.  xix. 

"  Of  the  Author. 
[Mr.  Tyrrel's  account  of  Benedictus  Abbas.] 
"  Though  Mr.  Tyrrell  hjd  a  great  opinion  of  the  history  of 
Benedictus  Abbas,  that  I  now  publish,  yet  what  I  find  con- 
cernirvg  this  historian  in  Mr.  Tyrrell's  history,  is  only  this, 
viz.  m  his  Catalogue  of  Authors,  quoted  by  him,  &c.  Jn  his 
preface  to  his  second  volume,  page  xii.  thus ;  '  I  mubr  here 
moreover  mention  as  to  civil  affairs,  the  exact  ch;or/.cleof 
Benedict  Abbot  of  P^terbnrgh,  who  begins  to  write  abour  the 
fourth  *  year  of  Hei.ry  t.he  Second,  and  carriss  his  historv  as 
far  as  abuu.t  A.  D.  1178,  f  being  the  24th  ^ear  of  his  reign: 
and  I  wish  he  had  continued  it  further,  he  being  a  juaicious 

Js  ;L'':6\h'o7Ht".IL-"^'''"-  '''  ''^S'"'  ^'  ^-  "7°'  ^"^-^ 
t  Julius  A.  XI.  4.  ends  A.  D.  1177  ri,d  Hirn.  II.1  abniDtlv. 
ul  TvrrdT/e'''  '^^P'' ^'^l""' E- XV^.^.  nU  bulnt,  X^ 
^H  ^IIa-  \  I-  T'  ^°  ^=*^^  *'^^°>  '""is  A.  D.  1,92  r,d  R.  ..] 
and  Benedictus  died  A.  D.  ,.94.    Hearne's  note,  uLupra 

and 


67 

and  faithful  writer,  and  from  whom  Roger  Hoveden  has  bor^ 
'  rowed  a  great  deal  of  his  history,  word  for  word,  tho'  without 
owning  where  he  had  it :  which,  by  the  way,  is  a  fault  in  this 
author,  he  having  done  the  like  by  Simeon  of  Denhatn."^ 
Appendix,  xxviii. 

"  Tales  of  the  Mad  Men  of  Gotham. 

"  t  never  doubted  *  but  that  these  related  to  ctertain  ancient 
tenures,  and  for  that  reason,  I  think  Mr.  Blount  should  have 
talFen  notice  of  this  book,  in  the  tract  he  wrote  and  published 
expressly  upon  that  subject.  The  first  edition  of  these  Tales 
came  out  in  the  latter  end  of  Henry  Vlllth's  reign,  [as  is 
conjectured  by  my  ingenious  friend  Mr.  John  Murray]  long 
after  the  tenures  and  customs,  to  which  they  relate,  were 
grown  obsolete."     Idem.  liv. 

"  Scoggah''s  Jests. 

"  After  this  book  was  printed,  there  were  other  books  of 
mirth  ascribed  to  Dr.  Borde,  on  purpose  to  promote  a  sale  of 
them,  one  of  which  is  that  called  Scogan's  Jests,  which  tho' 
an  idle  thing  [and  therefore  unjustly  fathered  upon  Dr.  Borde] 
hath  been  often  printed  in  Dnck  Lane,  and  ir)uch  bought  up 
by  those,  that  to  their  collections  of  books  of  the  first  clasSi 
aim  at  adding  little  pieces,  that  tend  to  promote  mirth."  Id.lv, 

"  Rolert  Burton,   Tom  Thumb,    and  the  Mylner  of 
AUngdon. 

"  Robert  Burton,  the  famoias  author  of  the  Anatomy  of  Me- 
lancholy, was  such  a  collector,  as  may  appear  from  the  great 
Variety  of  little  ludicrous  pieces  he  gave,  with  a  multitude  of 
books,  of  the  best  kind,  to  the  Bodleian  Library}  one  of  which 

♦  "  Nor  is  there  more  reason  to  esteem  '  The  merry  tales  of 
the  trad  Men  of  Gotham,'  (which  was  much  valued  and  cry'd  up 
in  H.  the  Eighth's  time,  tho'  now  sold  at  ballad  singers  stalls)  the 
authour  whereof  was  Dr.  Andrew  Borde,  as  altogether  a  romance ; 
a  certain  .skillful  person  having  told  me  more  than  once,  that  he 
was  assured  by  one  of  Gothamj  that  tliey  formerly  held  lands  there 
by  such  sports  &  customs  as  are  touched  tippn  in  this  book;  for, 
which  reason,  I  think,  particular  notice  should  have  been  taken  of 
it  in  Blount's  Tenures ;  as  I  do  not  doubt  but  there  would,  had 
that  otherwise  curious  author  been  appris'd  of  the  matter."  Edit, 
Guikl,  Neuhrig,  vol.  iii,  p.  744. 

F  2  .  little 


68 

little  pieces  was  The  History  of  Tom  Thumh—-vi\ach,  however 
looked  upon  as  altogether  fictitious,  yet  was  certainly  fotinded 
upon  some  authentic  history,  as  being  nothing  else  originally 

but  a  description  of  King  Edgar's  dwarf."- — 

"  Robert  Burton  being  so  curious  and  diligent  in  cpllecting 
ludicrous  and  merry  little  pieceSj  tis  no  wonder  that  he  pro- 
cured Dr.  Borde's  right  pleasant  and  merry  history  of  the  Mylner 
of  Abingdon.  As  I  remember,  t'was  his  copy  that  Mr.  Wood 
made  use  of.  I  have  seen  it,  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  with 
Thomas  Newton's  note.  Tis  probable  Dr.  Borde  took  the 
hint  of  this  merry  piece  from  Chaucer's  Re.ve's  Tale,  with 
which  it  ought,  by  such  as  have  opportunity,  to  be  compared. 
Jf  it  should  prove  so,  it  will  then  perhaps  be  deemed  that 
there  is  a  mistake  in  AbingAoa  for  Traw/iington.  'Tis  certain 
that  in  the  said  Reeve's  tale,  we  have  an  account  of  the  Mylner 
of  Trumpington,  his  wife,  and  fair  daughter,  &  two  poore 
scholars  of  Cambridge.  But  if,  after  all,  Abingdon  &  not 
Trumpington,  be  the  true  reading  in  Borde,  at  the  same  time, 
methinks,  for  two  poore  scholars  of  Cambridge,  should  be  read 
two  poore  scholars  of  Oxford,  the  situation  of  Oxford  being  more 
agreeable  to  the  Mill  of  Alaingdon  than  Cambridge."  Id.  Iv. 
Ivi. 

In  the  Preface  and  Appendix,  besides  the  foregoing 
matter,  there  are,  in  the  latter,  some  very  curious  par- 
ticulars concerning  the  Rev.  Mr.  Nathaniel  Wanley, 
father  of  Mr.  Humphrey  Wanley.  Some  notes  concern- 
ing the  Cotton  MSS.  of'the  historian,  collected  by  Hum- 
phrey Wanley — and  observations  concerning  Dr,  Andrew 
Borde,  in  addition  to  Wood's  account  of  him  in  the 
Athen.  Oxon. — are  also  incorporated. 

3.  De  Benedicio   Petroiurgensi,  e   Roberti  Sivashami   Eistoria 
Caenobii  Eurgensis. 

4.  Lamentatio  de  morte  Eegis  Itiiardi  I.  pag.  478.  e  Cod.  MS, 
in  Bibl.  Harleiana. 

5.  Item  de  gloriosis  ejus  "victoriis  in  itinere  Jcrosolyraitano. 
p.  750.  ex  eod.  Cod.  MS. 

6.  An  authentic  E-oidence  (never  before  published)  concermng 
tht  Relicli  of  the  blood  of  Bales;  -with  proper  Remarks  upon  it, 
she-wing  that  by  the  help  of  this  Evidence  the  Mistakes  of  seve- 
ral Historians  may  be  rectifyed,  and  some  of  the  many  calum- 
nies that  have  beeit  throvun  upon  the  religious  houses  may  be 
detected.  From  the  learned  Mr.  George  Cossingesbey,  Rector 
of  Bodenham,  m  Herefordshire,  p.  T  51. 

7. 


69 

7.  The  Peregrination  of  Dr.  Boarde,  e  Cod  MS.  manu  Laa- 
rentii  Noeli  Viri  cl.  penes  Thomam  Lambard,  de  Seven' 
oka,  in  agro  Cantieno,  Mali  g\  DCCXXVI.  p.  T^'^,  Epis- 
tolae  quaedam  (antehac  ineditae)  Regum  optimi  CAROL! 
PRIMI,  ad  Abrabamum  Doucettum,  &c.  una  cum  aliis 
quibusdam  pauculis  ad  eundem  Doucettum  pertinentibus. 
p.  866. 

8.  Notce.  p.  805. 

9.  Index.  808. 

10.  Catalogus  Operum.  * 

This  is  the  last  and  the  best  work  (of  its  kind)  which 
Hearne  ever  put  forth.     The  intrinsic  excellence  of  the 

*  At  the  end  of  the  notice  of  the  Annals  of  Dunstaple  Priory, 
is  this  memorandum.  "  As  Elias  de  Beckingham  occurs  several 
tiraes  in  the  Annals  of  Dunstaple,  his  epitaph  may  possibly  be  ac- 
ceptable. '  He  lies  buried  under  a  large  flat  marble  in  the  nave  of 
Bottisham  church,  a  village  about  seven  miles  N.  E.  of  Cam- 
bridge. The  letters  of  the  inscription  round  the  edge  of  this 
stone  seem  to  havi'  been  brass,  and  were  probably  stolen  for  the 
sakeof  the  metal,  but  the  cavities  cut  to  receive  the  letters,  re- 
main still  legible,  though  not  fair  enough  to  imitate  the  hand  with 
any  exactness,  which  I  therefore  shall  not  attempt : 

'  HIC  !  lACET  !  ELIAS  :  DE  ;  BEKINGHAM  :  QUON- 
DAM !  IVSTI 
CIARVS  -.  DOMINI  :  REGIS  :  ANGLIE  :  CVIVS  :  ANIME  s 

PRO 
PICIETVR  :  DEVS. 

V.  Rymeri  Feed.  Tom.  ii.  fol.  53  j  :  also  Dugdale's  Orig.  lurid. 
A"  Edv.  let  seq.  Hactenus  Beaupreus  Bell,  in  litteris  ad  me 
datis  apud  Beaupre-Hall  in  agro  Norfolciano,  Aprilis  aa.  1734. 

''  N.  B.  In  the  Appendix  to  the  s.^id  Annals  of  Dunstaple  is  a 
collection  of  Letters  relating  to  Charles  the  First's  escape  from 
Oxford,  and  to  the  straits  he  was  put  to  on  that  occasion.  Since 
the  publication  of  them,  my  friend  Philip  Harcourt,  of  Anker- 
wycke,  in  Bucks,  Esq.  hath  given  rae  copies  of  several  letters, 
written  by  that  truly  great  and  good  king,  then  also  in  his  straits, 
■which  I  shall  here  annex  in  the  manner  they  were  transcribed  by 
Mr.  Harcourt  from  the  Originals,  communicated  to  him  by  a 
lady,  who  keeps  'em  carefully,  as  a  proof  of  the  confidence  which 
was  reposed  in  her  grandfather  by  his  Sovereign."  p.  866. 

These  letters,  nine  in  number,  extend  to  p.  870;  and  are  suc- 
ceeded by  two  others,  sent  to  Hearne  by  Mr.  T.  Baker,  from  the 
Paper  Office.  Vide  also  Clarendon's  Hist.  Rebellion,  vol.  iii.  230, 
Ed.  1706,  8vo.  Whitelock's  Memorials,  p.  309,  ju,  329. 

F  3      a  h^stor^ 


70 

history  is  such  as  to  put  the  author  of  it  quite  in  the  fore- 
most rank  of  the  historians  of  his  day.  The  Benedictine 
Editors  of  the  "  Recueil  des  Historiens  des  Gaules, 
are  prodigal  in  their  praise  of  Benedictus  Abbas  ; 
and  as  this  very  carefully  executed  edition  of  his  labours 
is  the  only  one  ever  published,  scholars  and  collectors 
will  do  well  to  let  no  opportunity  slip  of  obtaining  pos- 
session of  it.  Mr.  Cough's  copy  was  sold  (if  I  recollect 
rightly)  for  somewhere  about  four  guineas. 

VI.  JoHANNis  DE  Trokelowe  Annales  Edvardi  IT. 

Anglic  Regis.    E.  Cod.  MS.  in  Bibl.  Cott.  [Claudius 

D.  VI.  8]  Oxonii  e  th.  Sheld.  1729.  8vo. 
1,  Trafatto 

In  this  preface,  speaking  of  the  Antiquities  of  Glas- 
tonb.ury,  Hearne  thus  strongly  reprobates  the  destruc- 
tion of  old  monuments  and  records,  and  the  fatalities 
attending  religious  persecutions. 

— "  Optime  igitur  facit  Vir  eruditissimus  Edmundus 

ArcheruSj  Archidiaconus  Wellensis,  qui  [communione  studio- 
rum  arctissima  nobis  coiijunctus]  nostram  in  gratiam  regislra 
pervolvit  Vetera,  idque  tanta  cum  felicitate,  ut  inde  depromat 
viris  probis  atque  doctis  [qui  ejusmodi  reliquias  videre  avent] 
multa  pergrata,  e  quibussuntchartaeillae  eximiae  ad  Glastoniam 
spectantes,  nuper  a  nobis  editae.     Quae  quidem  chartae  vel  id- 
circo  magni  sunt  faciends,  quod  iude  ecclesias  Glastoniensis 
jura  clare  [periude  ac  si  praesto  adesset]  lector  colligit.    Adeo 
ut,  eandem  etiam  ob  rationem,  rectissime  fecerint  Dodswor- 
thius,  Dugdalius,  Galeus,  aliique  viri  summi   [judicio  acri  ac 
doctriiia  exquisita  ornati]  qui  ad  eandem  ecclesiam  Glastonien- 
sem,  coenobiaque  nostra  vetusf a,  chartas  sirailitrr  pertinentes 
diligentissime  sibi  compararunt,  et  juris  public!  fieri  curarunt. 
Keque  hujusmodi  monumenta  [quorum   indagatio  suramara 
habet  oblectationem]  proferentibus  quis  unquam  succensuit, 
Wiclevistas,  Calvinianos,   fanaticosque  aliossi  demas,  qui  [ut 
ignorare  ipiAofAetfo;  nemo  potest]  in  verae  religionis  cultoresirri- 
tati  quamlibet  nacti  occasioneni,  plerosque  omnes  convltiis 
conscinduntj  antiquitatibus  Britanncis  oleijm  operamque  itn- 
pendentes.     Verum  cur  his  insistam,  causa  nihil  video.     De- 
trectent,  si  lubet  [nam  quis  adeo  demenSj  ut  aurera  proebeat?] 
viroruni  praestantissimorum  auctoritatem  Wiclevista  et  reliqui 
Pnritani,    [scriptuiiendi   et   maledicendi   impetigine   incitati] 
DngJaliumque  Qaleum,  aliosqufc  subsellii  superioris  scriptores 

imperitiae 


71 

imperltlae  impeiitissimae  simulent,  sluJtissimosqne  appellent. 
Nos,  verecundius  agentes,  Archeroque  aJiisque  fautoribus  ■ 
gratias  habenteSj  in  studio  veritatis  ac  antiquitatis  horas  coJlo- 
cemus,  nobiscumque  praeclare  agi  puteiTQaa,  si  ia  hujuamodi 
nostris  conatibus  utile  quod  sit  invenerint  eruditi."  p.  xvii. 
xviii. 

2.  Henrici  de  Blaneforde  Chronica,  e  Cod.  MS.  in  Bibl.  Cott. 
Cott.  (Claudius  D.  VI.  9I  p.  67. 

3 .  Monachi  ejusdem  Malmesburkmis  Vita  Ed-vardi  II.  a  C04. 
MS.  penes  Jacobum  Westum,  Arraigerum,  p.  93. 

4.  An  Account  of  the  Canonization  of  William  de  MorcMa, 
BishoiJ  of  Bath  and  Wells.  E.  Registr.  Wellensibus.  p.  255. 
(preceded  by  a  title-page,  and  Dr.  Archer's  letter  to  the 
publisher.) 

5.  The  Commission  to  shut  up  John  Ckerde  (Mon\tf  ¥ord  Abhey) 

in  his  solitary  Apartment  during  Life,     E.  Reg.  vet.  Well, 
p.  261. 

I.  Chartae  Aulae  Ibelcestre.  265, 

II.  Literae  Abbatis  de  Cernel  super  ratificatione  appropriationis 
praedicts. 

III.  Literae  Domini  Jocelini  super  ordinatione  appropriationis 
ecclesiae  beatae  Mariae  minoris. 

6.  K.  H.  Fills.  Letter  of  Thanks  ftpon  the  Lord  Priiy  Seal  Tho- 

mds  Cronrweirs  being  elected,  chosen,  and  iiistaUed  He,,  n  of 
Wells.  E.  Reg.  vet.  Well.  p.  271. 

7.  A  short  account  of  Dr.  Robert  Brady,  and  Mr.  John  Light- 
ivine.  From  my  learned  friend  Mr.  Thomas  Baker  of  Cam- 
bridge, p.  273. 

8.  A  note  about  Jervais  Hallis,  from  the  genuine  or  1st 
edition  ot  Mr.  Ant.  k  Wood's  Athenae  Oxon.  Vol.  II,  col. 
702.  p.  '>y5. 

Q.  JVoia  MSS.  ipsius  Joannis  Bale,  adjectas  Codioi  impresso 
de  Scriptoribus,  &c.  Ex  Autographo  descripsit  V.  amiciss. 
Tho.  Bakerus  Cantabrigiensis.  p.  2^6.  426. 
JO.  Ordinationes  Collegii  Orielensis.  In  quibus  &  Statuta  -Uni- 
versitatis  Oxoniensifj-ab  Edvardo  VI.  lata  ac  sancita.  E 
Codice.  vet  penes  Edit.  p.  295. 

11.  Epitaphium  Saree  Cherrias,  Filiae  Francisci  Cherrii.  p.  373. 

12.  ^  remarkable  S  lory  of  a  great  sum  of  money  found  in  a  cum- 
lersome  -wooden  Bedstead,  at  Leycester,  on  'ivhich  R.  III.  had. 
layn  before  the  battle  at  Bosivorth.  From  a  MS.  intituled,  Jle« 
membrances  collected  by  Sir  Roger  Twysdent'  p.  374« 

13.  ^Qta.  p.  376. 

F  4  14. 


72      > 

14.  Francisci  God-wini  narrath  de  Gulielmo  de  Marchia,  e  God- 
wini  libro  inedilo  da  Episcopis  Batho  Wellensibus.  p.  378. 

15.  Olservationes  de  Ccenobio  Stinctimonalium  de  Wmtenay,  in 
agro  Haitoniensi.  p.  382.  A27. 

id.  Statutum  illud  CoUegiinovi,  Oxom<B,m  quo  prohihetur  con- 
suetado  radendi  barbas.  f.  393. 

This  is  a  long  gossipping  note  upon  the  antiquity  and 
propriety  (or  otherwise)  of  wearing  beards  at  New  Col- 
lege, Oxford;  in  which  the  ancient  Latin  version,  from 
Leviticus  chap,  xix,  27,  is  thus  rendered  :  "  Ye  shall  not 
round  the  corners  of  your  heads,  neither  shalt  thou  mar 
the  corners  of  thy  beard."  -An  English  translation, 
printed  in  iH^j  ''^us  renders  it:  "  Ye  shall  not  rounde 
thelockes  of  your  heades,  neyther  shake  thou  marre  the 
tuftes  of  thv  bearde." 

•I 

17.  Index,  f.  396. 

18.  Operum  Eearrtii  Catalogus. 

19.  Various  Readings  relating  to  the  will  of  Richard  Beau- 
champ,  E.  of  Warwick,  that  I  pninted  in  John  Ross, 
p.  423  to  428. 

To  this  sparce  and  not  incurious  work  there  are  no 
subscribers'  names  prefixed  or  subjoined.  Tl"!e  large 
paper  was  sold  for  il.  is.  the  small  for  ics.  6d. 

VII.  Walteri  Hemingford  Canonici  de  Gisse- 
burne  Historia  de  rebus  gestis  Edvardi  I.  Edv,  II.  et 
Edv.  III.  E.  Codicibus  MSS.  nunc  primus  publi- 
cavit  Thomas  Hearne.  Oxon.  e  Th.  Sbeld.  1731. 
8vo.  2  vols, 

1.  Prafat'io — to  p.  cxvi. 
2\  Affendix  to  p.  clxxxvi. 

Tn  this  preface  and  appendix  are  coinprehended  the 
following  miscellaneous  articles : 

3.  A  very  scarce  Coin  ofCaurasius.  p.  xlix. 

4.  An  ancient  inscription  found  at  Dorchester,  near  Oxford, 
p.  Ivii. 

5.  T/ie  old  Form  of  admitting  Ch.  Wardens  into  their  ofBce,  at 
Great  Farington,  in  Berks,  from  an  old  Church  Warden's 
book  of  Apcounts.  p.  lix. 

6.  Instructions  gi-ven  ly  Thorjtas  Bourcher,  Abp.  of  Canter- 
bury,  to  the  abbot  of  Thorney,  how  Reginald  Peacock, 

who 


11 

who  was  sent  thither,  should  be  treatyd  in  the  Monastery 
aforesaid,  p.  Ixxxvi.  e  Coll.  H.  Wharton. 
7.  A  Note  re'aiing  to  Juliana  Barnes  booh  pr.  at  St,  Allan's, 
of  Hatvking,  Hunting,  i5f  Armory,  p.  xcvi. 

As  the  public  curiosity  has  been  of  late  somewhat  at- 
tracted towards  this  curious  and  rare  publication,  from 
the  notice  of  a  forthcoming  reprint  of  Wynkyn  de 
Worde's  edition  of  it  by  my  friend  Mr.  J.  Haslewood, 
(who  has  spared  no  pains  to  make  himself  master  of 
every  thing  connected  with  the  authoress  and  her  publi- 
cation) I  subjoin  the  following  bibliographical  morgeau, 
by  Hearne,  for  the  sake  of  the  curious:  premising,  that 
Bagford's  notice  of  a  supposed  anterior  edition  of  1481 
is  not  worth  a  moment's  consideration — such  cditioa 
being  purely  chimerical. 

"  Inde  profecto  suspicor,  panca  etiam  in  Julianae  Barnesise 
vel  potius  Berners,  feminas  ciari^simae,  priorissae  abbatiae  mo- 
naliuna  de  Sopewell  coenobii  S.  Albani  cellae  opera  insigni  de 
^ucupatione  &c.  iaesse,.  quaenon  sint  re  vera  ipsius  Barnesise,* 

atque 

*  "  In  Bp.  More's  study,  [now,  I  suppose  at  Cambridge  Pub- 
lic Library]  I  formerly  saw  the  books  of  Haiuking,  Hunting,  and 
Armory,  usually  ascribed  to  Julian  Barnes,  [the  book  of  Fishing 
was  riot  there,  or  else  it  had  been  torn  out]  printed  at  St.  Albans 
in  J486  In  small  folio,  and  had  a  remarkable  note  writ  in  the  be- 
ginning under  the  hand  of  Will  Bui  ton,  of  Leicestershire,  to  this 
effect:  Julian  Barnes  said  to  be  author.  Hername  should  rather 
be  Berners:  daughter  she  was  of  Sir  James  Berners,  of  Berners 
Roding  in  Essex,  sister  to  Richard  Lord  Berners — Prioress  of 
"Sopewell  [which  you  know,  was  a  nunnery,  cell  to  and  very  near 
St.  Alban's]  This  is  the  substance  of  my  extracts,  which  are  in 
Latin,  but  whether  Burton's  note  was  so,  or  in  English,  or  what 
the  words  were  verbatim,  I  can't  tell."  Tanner's  Letter  to  Hearne, 
Sep.  20,  1731. 

^  •'  Atque  in  Bibliotheca  Mooriana  re  vera  exstitisse  Julianae 
Barnesise  [qua  priorissa  alia  nulla  vel  pukrior,  vel  etiam  doctior 
erat]  librum,  monuit  item  Joannes  Bagfordius,  vir  ille  inclytus, 
artis  typographicse  incunabulorura  longe  peritissimus,  in  adver- 
sarjis  quibusdam,  satis  egregiis,  penes  nos,  ex  Bono  amicissinji 
Bakeri.  In  hoc  antem  a  Tannero  discrepat  Bagfordius,  quod  li- 
brum typis  excusuna  fuisse  innuit  A.  D.  m.  cccc.  lxxxi.  Imo 
et  Bagfordius  mihi  videtur  fere  prodere,  bis  equidem  prodiise  in 
villa  S.  Albani.  Quid  quod  et  ipse  etiam,  ni  fallor,  viderim  duas 
in  folio  editiones  ?  uti  etiam  adspexi  non  ita  pridem  Guilielmi 
Caxtoni  editionem,  rarissiraam  sane,  et  auro  contra  non  caram ; 

quemadmodum 


74 

atque  eo  speciatim  in  loco,  ubi  de  locutionibus  aliquot,  nb  ho- 
minibus,  accurate  dieentibus,  usurpandis  agitiir.  Nam  his  in 
anibus,  de  quibus  egit  Juliana,  Anglice  et  perspicue  dicendi 
magna  laus  non  est :  decore  vero  et  aptc  dicendi  etiam  admira- 
tio.  In  iisdem  enira  considere,  quid  rebus,  quid  personis,  quid 
locis,  qaid  tcmporibus  conveniat,  non  est  artis  literal  iae,  sed  in- 
geniiplanceet  experientice.  Loco  illo,  quam  innuimus,  Ju'ianae 
legas  de  cxsecrabili  mouachorum  copia ;  quod  plane  facit,  nt 
locus  onanino  sit  nobis  suspectus — quippe  qui  putamus,  ab 
ipso  Julianse  judicio  penitus  abhorrere.  Neque  reclamabit  (ut 
videtur'i  si  nunc  uspiam  exstet,  ipsum  Barnesiae  a.'jroypa,(pov,.. 
quod  tarjifin  ommino  periisse,  arguit  Codicum  MSS.  Julianse 
mira  raritas.  At  ab  initio  multos  fuisse  codices  chirographos, 
nullus  dubito.  Tarn  enim  nobilibus,  quam  aliis,  perplacuit 
feminne,  turn  corporis  turn  anirai  dotibus  conspicuse,  opus, 
unde  et  in  Linguam  Latinam  versum  fuisse  legimus.  [Pitseus 
p.  649]  Sed  en  tibi  verba  ipsa  Julianae,  sicuti  concepta  exs- 
tant  in  fragmento  Codicis  irapressi,  ex  editione,  ni  fallorj 
Pynsoniana.  Reperi  autem  inter  Fragmenta  Neviana. 

a  multiplyeinge  of  husbandes 

a  pontyfycalyte  of  prelates 

a  dynnyte  of  chanons 

a  charge  of  curates. 

dyscrecj'on  of  preestes. 

a  scoll  of  freres 

abominable  syght  of  monkes. 
Pro^monkes,'  siie  «zo?i  c/^orawj  reposuerim  '  monkeys^'  vel 
$tmiarum,  nisi  quod  de  viris  in  mox  praecedentibus  loquatur. 
Quod  quum  ita  sit,  additanientum  esse  hunc  ultimum  versicu- 

quemadmodum  et  maxiiiii  similiter  asstimandos  esse  duco  non 
tantum  Julianss  Barnesias  Ibrum,  in  villa  Albanensi  impressura, 
sed  et  oiiines  alios  iibros  ibidem  excuses,  ne  qiiidem  excepto  aditu 
illo  ad  lingua'Ti  Latinam,  cujus  ttffoj'a:c-,y,aTio»  nos  habemus  in 
Fragmentis  Ntvknis.  Sed  Eagfordii  mesis  manifestior  crit,  si 
Verba  ejus  ipsissima;'dferam.  quod  eolubentius  facio,  quia  non  sint 
aliis  animadversa.  '  Julian  Barnes  Iier  Gentleman's  Academie  of 
Hawking,  Hunting,  Fishing,  and  Heraldry,  the  armes  in  proper 
colours,  printed  and  called  the  Boke  of  St.  Alban's,  because  there 
first  printed  [14.81.]  A  pot  folio.  The  first  that  ever  I  saw  had 
been  the  book  of  John  Leland :  afttr,  it  came  into  the  bands  of 
Burton  of  Leycestersliire,  and  is  now  in  the  collection  of  the  Bishop 
of  Ely  [Dr.  Moore.]  Julian  Barnes  waj  Abbess  of  the  Nunnery 
of  Sopewell  near  St.  Albans.  There  have  been  two  impressions  of 
it  in  folio." 

lum 


75 

lum  potius  susptoor.  Nam  plane  per  mihi  mirum  visum  est, 
'JuUanum  perperam  de  monachis  potuisse  sentire,  fstninam 
excultissimam,  et  qU£E  neque  ad  dicendum,  neque  ad  intelli- 
gendum  esset  invalida.  Eo  modo  etiam  de  ipsa  scribunt  bio- 
graphiy  perinde  ac  si  bona  sapiensque  simul  esset  pariter  atqne 
erudita.  Imp  viraginem  vocant,  innuentes  nimii-um,  neque 
voluptariis  disputationibus,  neque  voluptariisvocibus,  fuisse  de- 
lectatam,  verecundiusque  proinde  egisse,  quam  ut  inter  homi- 
nes illos,  qui  voluptate  omnia  metiuntur,  numeretur,  Haso 
faciunt,  ut  et  haec  verba,  a  scoll  of  freres,  miiii  etiam  sint 
fidei  su?pect«,  a  jco// idem  est  atqLie  Anglo-Sax.  )-ceole,  sive 
costus  macnus,  vulgo'  a  shole.  Hie  autem  eo  fine  usurpatur, 
ut  in  conten  ptionpm  adducantur  fratres,  aliter,ut  opinor,  atque 
voluerat  Juliana,  quas  de  his  etiam  pariter  aiqne  monachis 
optime,  ut  videtur,  senticbat.  Itaqtie  et  haso  itidera  verba  ab 
bominibus  male  feriatis  inserta  fuisse  fere  dixeriin.  Wiccle- 
vistis  nempe,  vel  certe  Wicclevistariim  fautoribiis.  Neque 
tamen  inficias  iverim,  freres  exstare  in  Codice  Henrico  Vito. 
regnante  scripto,  penes  Thomam  Rawlinson,  V.  egregium, 
qui  sane  Codex  sententiam  nostram  stabilit,  opus  BarnesiaSj 
quod  nunc  vulgo  circumfertur,  in  aliquibus  minus  esse  au- 
thenticum.  In  eo  sculk  pro  scoll,  et  mockes  pro  ?nonkes,  legitur, 
hoc  modo  scilicet. 

"  A  sculk  of  foxns.  of  freres.  of  theves.  an  homynable  shyt  of 
mockes.  a  superfluite  of  nonnes.''  * 

Praefat.  p.  xcvi— xcix. 

8.  A  Note  about  Durandus's  Rationale  divinorumj  in  AH-SxiuFs 
College  Library,  p.  ex.. 

"  They  have  in  All  Soul's  College-Library  a  noble  folio 
book  printed  on  vellum,  of  Durandus's  Rationale  Divinorum, 
but  then  it  hath  been  horribly  abused,  several  leaves  being  cut 
out.  Nor  does  the  date  vi^hen  printed  appear,  though  it  was 
very  early,  as  may  appear  from  the  f  blowing  MS.  note  ai:  the 
beginning  of  the  book.  "  Liber  Collegii  omnium  aniniarum 
Oxon ,  quern  Re-verendus  fater  Jacobus  Goldivell,  ■\  Episcopus 
Norwicensis.  emit  in  ci-uitate  tlamburgensi,  dam  erat  missus  in  am- 
bassiatum  a  Christitmissimo  principe  Edivardo  Bege  Angliee  i^c. 
dd  illustrissimum  frincipem  Regem  Daniee,  -voluilqUe  dictus  Re- 
•verendus  pater,  ut  cathanetur  in  choro  dicti  Callegii,  ad  uttlilatertt 
ftudencium.  Et  si  quis  eum  alienaverit,  -vel  contra  hunc  disposicio^ 

*  Coll.  noit.  MSB.  Vol.  cxxxii.  p.  S7. 
.  t  "Goldwell  v^as  made  Bishop  of  Norwich  1472  12  Edvfr.  4, 
Godwin  497.     He  was  before  Dean  of  Salisbury,  and  Secretary  to 
K.  Edward  IV."  ^ 

nem 


76 

nemfecerit,  anathema  sit.     Et  ktBc  disposicio  erat  per  pr^fatum 
Beverenduti patrem  anno  Dom'tra   millima  cccc  Ixxxxviii." 

"  This  book  is  even  imperfect  at  the  end,  where,  in  all 
likelihood,  was  the  date.  [A  superficial  extract  from  Beughem 
is  then  givn.]  It  is,  as  it  is,  a  book  of  great  value,  but  were 
it  perfect,  it  would  be  looked  upon  as  worth  about  an  hundred 
pounds*  among  curious  men."  Coll.  nostr.  MSS.  Vol.  103, 
156. 

"■  Licet  fortasse  non  desint,  qui  ex  hac  nota  conjicient,  nos 

esse  stultos  pretii  librorum  existimatores,  haudquaquam  tamea 

hercle  nos  inepte  sensisse  JLidicabiint  alii,  simul  atque  cogno- 

verint,  suam  cuique  rem  esse  carissimaro."  cix.  ex.  cxi. 

g.  Be  magni  discordia   Oxoniensi.     A".  Dom.  MCCLXIIF. 

inter  Academicos  &  Oppidanos,  e  Chrouico  Abbingtoni- 

ensi.  p.  cxti. 

*  It  would  appear,  from  the  sequel,  that  Sir  T.  Sebright  had 
valued  a  perfect  copy  of  it,  in  his  own  collection,  described  to 
Hearne  by  Howell,  at  this  sain. 

At  the  end  of  the  volume  is  the  following  account  of  the 
Mentz  edition.  "  Nunc  tandem  intellexi,  exemplar  ejusdem 
editionis  penes  se  habere  Comitem  nobilissiraum  Oxonienseni, 
Edvardura  Ha.-leiain,  idque  etiam  membraneum  et  perquam  niti- 
dum.  Me  per  litteras,  docte  et  candide  propria  sua  manu  scripta?, 
certiorem fecit  ipse  Comes  conatuum  noMrorum  iitterariorum  fautor 
eximius.  p.  731.  Opernm  Catalog. 

Catholicon:  cujus  bina  [uniim  membraneum,  alterum  charta- 
ceum]  exeraplariain  bibliotheca  sua,  libris  omnibus  instructissima, 
habet  Comes,  quern  dixirnus,  prjcstrntissimus  Oxoniensis."  p.  733. 

[More,  Up.  of  Ely.] 

In  sua  itidem  bibliotheca  Catholicon  habuit  episcopus 

nuperus  Eiyensis  Joannes  Moorus  [sicuti  a  Catalogo  Codicum 
MSS.  observari  est,  ubi  tamen,  Tom.  ii.  p.  579,  mendose,  quam 
dedimus,  nota  exstat]  qui  de  eodem  mecum  hfc  Oxo.'ui  coram 
egit;  ita  tamen  ut  de  Durandi  editione  principe  Moguntina  nihil 
audivisse  videretur.  "  Quod  moneo,  quia  rei  librarise  admodum 
peritus  esset  Mooius,  certaque  sit  conjectura,  ipsum  mihi  comme- 
moraturum  fuisse,  si  modo  ad  aures,  harum  rerum  avidissimas, 
de  Durandi  ilia  editione  quid  pervenisset,  utpote  qui  de  aliis,  hue 
spectantibus,  expresse,  licet  strictum,  tunc  temporis  disseruerit," 
P-  733. 

It  may  be  worth  adding  to  this  note  of  Hearne,  that  his  Majesty, 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  Earl  Spencer,  and  Sir  Mark  M.  Sykes, 
Bart,  each  possess  a  beautiful  vellum  copy  of  the  Durandus 
which  is  well  described  by  Wurdtwein  in  his  Bibliotheca  Moeunl 
tma,  p.  65  J  and  by  Mr.  Edwards,  in  his  Catalogue  of  1 704, 
No.  1291,  where  it  is  marked  at  ufil. 

10. 


n 

10.  Notie  in  earn  partem  Hemingfordii,  quam  edidit  V,  doctis- 
simus  Thomas  Galeus.  p.  cxxiii. 

11.  Concerning  Megino/de  Peacock's  Opnions,  not  only  from  Nich. 
Dolemans  Three  Con-versions  of  Enghnd,  but  from  a  MS.  in 
the  hands  of  Thomas  Ward  of  Wliriinck,  Esqr.  f.  cli. 

12.  The  learned  Mr.  Henry  Dod-weU's  Letter,  concerning  the 
poiver  of  Metrqpolitrns'in  depriving  Siiffragan  Bishops,  occa- 
sioned by  a  Letter  from  the  learned  Thomas  Smith,  ivhose 
Letter  and  his  Ansiuer  to  Mr.  Dodivell,  are  here  likeivise 
published.  />.  cliii, 

13.  Processus  sub  Irevibus,  Super  modo  &  forma,  quibiis  Jo- 
hannes Wethamstede  fuit  iterum  post  resignationem  inPa- 
trem  &  Pastorem  ecclesiae  S.  Abani  reelectus.  e  Registro 
Jobannis  de  Wethamstede  in  Bibliotheca  Collegii  Armoiutn 
Londini.  p.  clx. 

i4.  A  Letter  from  Dr.  William  Lloyd,  Bishop  of  St.  Asnph,  to 
Bishop  Fell,  concerning  the  execution,  and  list  behaviour  of 
the  Diike  of  Monmouth.  Ex  Autographo  penes  Editorem. 
p.  clxxvii. 

15.  An  account  of  the  Ch.  of  Sivafham,  in  Norfolk,  extracted 
from   a  Letter   "written   to    the  Publisher,    by  the  ingenious 

Beaupre  Fell,  ofBeaupre  Hall,  in  Norfolk,  Esqr.  p.  clxxx. 

16.  A  Letter  relating  to  the  last  behaviour  of  Sir  Walter  Ra%u- 
leigh,  •writ/en  by  Dr.  Robert  Tounson,  Dean  of  West- 
minster, and  aftenuards  Bishop  of  Sarum,  to  Sir  John  Isham. 
p.  clxxxiv.  ex  Autographo  penes  D.  Justinianum  Ishamum, 
Baronettum,  V.  &  ingeniosum  &  eruditum,  ac  D.  Joannig 
Ishami  (ad  quem  scripta  est  haec  epistola)  pronepotem 
mibi  mutuo  date  Oct.  1.  1731, 

17.  Anonymi  Historia  Edz'ardi  IH.  antehac  inedita.  e  Codice 
vet.  MS,  p.  387. 

18.  Nota  in  "vitam  Ricardi  11.  a  nohis  &v\:iigataTa.  p.  453. 

19.  Johannis  de  Wethamstede  narratio  de  Reginaldi  Pecockii 
(Episcopi  Cicestrensis)  abjuratione.  400  E.  Kegistro  sive 
Chronico  Johannis  de  Wethamstede  MS.  in  Bibl.  Collegii 
Armorum  Londini.  fol.  II7.  > 

20.  Viri  clariss.  Georgii  Harbinii  Collectanea  Bistorica  ex  Dictio- 
nario  Theologico  Thomae  Gascoygne,  S.  Theologie  Doc- 
toris  Oxoniensis,  MS.  fol  in  Bibliotheca  Collegii  Lincolni- 
ensis,  Oxon.  p,  50g. 

21.  An  Account  of  K.  Charles  I'",  escape  or  departure  from  Ox- 
ford, in  the  year"  1646.  By  Dr.  Michael  Hudson.  To- 
gether with  Mr.  Robert  Barham,  of  Sandwiche's  Examina- 
tion, relating  to  the  said  Dr.  Michael  Hudson  ^    As  also 

somewhat 


;8 

somewhat  of  curious  Remark,  that  concerns  Sir  Kenelm 
Digby.  Now  first  published  from  Original  Papers,  p.  5SJI, 
12,  Dr.  Archer  s  account  of  the  religious  houses  in  the  Diocese  of 
Bath  and  Bristol,  and  of  those  out  of  it  that  had  any  reve- 
nues in  it.   p   585. 

23.  An  alphabetical  list  of  the  religiotis  houses  in  Semersef shire, 
rectifying  some  mistakes  and  omissions  in  Harpsfield, 
Speed,  and  Dugdale's  Catalogues.  By  John  Strachey  of 
Sutton  Court,  in  Somer.setshire,  Esq.  p.  643. 

24.  Annotations;  viz.  1.  A  note  relating  to  the  word  Bachala- 
rius,  in  which  is  something  of  curious  remark  about  the 
old  University  of  Oxford,  as  also  about  Siward  Earl  of 
Northumberland's  being  buried  at  York.  p.  6Qg,  2,  A 
Coin  (a  silver  Groat)  of  David  the  Second's  King  of  Scot- 
land, 3.  A  note  about  square  cups,  p.  678.  4.  A  curious 
fragment  about  Glastonbury  Abbey,  from  a  MS.  in  the 
hands  of  the  ingenious  John  Murray,  p.  6S0,  If^iile 
British  Bibliographer,  Vol.  I.  p.  250.] 

25.  Index,  p.  687  to  710. 

36.  Operum  Catdlogus  to  736.  In  this  catalogue  are  some 
further  particulars  relating  to  the  Rationale  Div.  Off.  of 
Durandus,  and  to  other  circumstances  about  Old  Printingj 
and  particularly  about  the  first  book  printed  at  Cambridge. 

There  were  130  subscribers  to  this  work;  of  which 
foriy  subscribed  for  large  paper,  at  2I.  2S.  the  copyj  and 
eight  for  several  copies :  the  small  paper  was  sold  for  a 
guinea.  It  is,  without  doubt,  one  of  Hearne's  most 
curious  and  scarce  publications. 

VIIT.  RoBERTi  DE  AvESBURY  Histojia  de  Mirabili- 
bus  gestis  Edvardi  III.  [hactenus  inedita]  e  Codic- 
bus  MSS.  descripsit  ediditque  Tho.  Hearnius.  Qui  et 
Appendicem  subnexuit.     E  Th.  Sheld.  1720.  8vo. 

From   an  analysis   of  the  leading   contents   of  this 
volume,  it  will  be  seen  that  few  of  Hearne's  publications 
are  more  precious  to  the  curious  antiquary. 
1.   Tho.  Bearnius  Lectori,  p.  iii.  xlii. 

The  opening  of  the  preface  is  characteristic  of  Hearne's 
mental  activity.  "  Dum  antiquitates  nostras  paullo  di'.igentius 
et  curiosius  perquiro  (nam  ad  agendum  nati  sumus)"  &c.  From 
this  preface  it  appears  that  the  copy  of  Robert  of  Avesbury 
from  which  Hearne  printed  his  edition,  was  a  MS.  in  the  pos- 
session 


^9 

session  of  Sir  Thomas  Sebright.  This  he  seems  to  have  col- 
lated with  an  Harleian  MS.  Meanwhile  hh  friend  Thomas 
Baker  informed  him  of  a  Cambridge  MS. — and  these  three 
MSS.  bear  evidence  of  being  composed  in  the  reign  of  Ed- 
ward llf.;  during  which  reign,  [that  is,  A.  D.  135/,]  Hearne 
has  no  doubt  but  that  Robert  de  Avesbury  lived;  and  died  at 
Cambridge.  It  embraces  the  history  of  Edward  III.  up  to  the 
year  1356  inclusive,  p.  iv.  V, 

Ht  ame  thinks  that  the  second,  or  latter,  part  of  this  MS. 
has  been  dsbtroyed  or  lost;  and  that  it  would  be  worth  while 
to  inspect  every  library  in  the'  kingdom  in  order  to  recover 
it.  ix. 

At  p.Tge  xxiii.  He  thinks  John  Josceline  was  the  real 
autiior  of  Abp.  Piuker's  work  De  Antiq.  Brit.  Ecclesiae;  and 
that  the  Abp.  might  have  put  a  finishing  hand  to  it. 

Neither  Josceline  nor  Antony  Wood  *  knew  of  Robert  de 
Avesbury. 

"  Oniony  Wood. 

"  Is  re  vera  erat"  admirandae  industrias,  [utinam  et  judiciimi 
adfoisset,  amicorumque  liberis  admonitionibus  aures  non  na- 
buisset  clansas]  omnemque  animi  cogitationem  ad  res  Oxoni- 
enses  illustrandas  atque  exponendas  convertit.  Quem  in  finem 
innumera  pene  antiquitatis  monumenta  consuluit,  omnemque 
ferre  laborem  [nam  dolere  solebat,  si  quando  vel  Academico- 
rum,  vel  etiam  Oppidanorum  antelucana  victus  esset  industria] 
consuetude  docuit:  immo  de  his  rebus  nihil  fere  intermisit  nee 
disputare,  nee  scribere  ;  praecipue  autem  de  iisdem  disputavit, 
quum  esset  cum  familiaribus  [quorum  naturam  ex  forma  se 
perspicere,  velut  alter  Zopyrus,  profitebatur]  in  villis  prope 
Oxonium,  haud  aliter  atque  a  Cicerone  de  maximis  reb\is  turn 
veheriientissime  erat.disputatum,  quum  ageret  in  Tusculano, 
■  quo  non  pauci,  suis  sedibus  exciti,  eruditi,  disceptatum  cum 
eo  de  maximi  moment!  controversiis,  confluebant.  Quamobrem 
de  Academia  Oxoniensi  (cujus  honore  et  salute  nihil  antiquius 
habnit)  imo  de  toto  orbe  litterario,  optime  meritus  est  Anto- 
ni'us.     Nee  vero  quisquam  est,  qui  eum,  qui  t.antos  tulerit 
labores,  non  laudandum  putet.     Hac  de  causa  certe  qui  vivo 
detrectare  soliti  erant,  jam  mortiium  desiderio  prosecuti  sunt. 
'Verum enimvero  denegandum  non  est, hominem huqclaborio- 

*  He  concludes  tliat  Wood  did  not  know  him,  because  he  bor- 
rows nothing  from  R.  de  A.  concerning  the  sharp  conflict  between 
the  Government  &  Townsmen  A.  D.  1354:— In  quo  [nira.  R.  de 
A.]  tamen  hoc  de  certamine  satis  egregja,  jxxxii, 

sum 


8o 

sum  (utcunque  fortem  et  raagno  animo,  eo  etiam  vultu,  ora- 
tione,  omni  reliquo  motu,  et  statu,  ut  antiquarium  diceres) 
per  plura  e  Briani  Twyni  et  Gerardi  Langbainii  Analectis  in- 
editis,  eorura  tamen  nominibus  celatis^  decerpsiss^.  Hasc  ex- 
pertus  scribo,  quippe  qui  ante  annos  aliquamraultos  Twyni 
atque  Langbainii  CoUecianea  in  Turri  Scholarum  Oxonii  ad- 
servata  (ne  quid  .dicam  de  iliis  ab  Antonio  nostro  Museo 
Ashmoliano  legatis)  forte  fortuna  pervolutavi.  Quod  qaum 
rescisset  amicus  quidam  gravis,  pereruditus,  his  in  rebus  versa- 
tissimns,mu]tornmque  librorum  doctissimorumscriptorj  mecum 
per  litteras  (nam  tum  Londini  degebat,  quamvis  Academias 
nostras,  utpote  vir  spectatae  integritatis,  clecus  clarissimum) 
egit,  docuitque  plane,  viriim,  quem  dixi,  diligentissimum 
Twyni  et  Langbainii  scrinia  compiiasse,  quod  idcirco  gravitdr 
et  asgre  ferendum  esse  monuit,  quia  eorum  nomina  reticuisset, 
perinde  ac  si  omnia  ipse  collegisset,  nemoque  jam  antea  in 
eadeni  arena  desudasset.  Singula  persequi  iiac  occasione  tum 
esset  prolixum,  tum  et  praster  institutum.  lUud  saltern  con- 
Stat  e  lectione'Antonii  k  Wood  librorum,  non  obstantibus  his 
quae,  animadvertenda  esse  duximus,  ipsum  otio  abundantem, 
et  in  his  studiis  nunquam  non  occopatum,  infinitos  pene  libros, 
aliaque  antiquitatis  ix.vri[i6<rvva.  evoluisse,  de  quibus  vix  un- 
quam  audiverat  vel  Twynus,  vel  etiam  Langbainius,  &c. 

" Quinimmo  idem  liquet  ex  Historia  et 

Antiquitatibus  Universitatis  Oxoniensis,  in  quibus  operibus 
conticiendis  totos  dies  et  noctes  (idque  etiam  ad  clepsydram) 
meditatum  fuisse  ntmo  dubitabit,  qui  inspexerit.  Neque  est 
cur  verearis  ne  vel  opewm  vel  oleum  perdiderit.  Hominum 
enim  illustrium  vim  magnam  in  iisdem  operibus  memoria  et 
litteris  pro  virili  sua  consecravit.  xxvi.  xxxiii. 

2.  Tesiimoma  de  Roberto  de  A-vesbury.  xliii-xlvii. 

3.  The  Subscriber's  Names.  1/6  names:  no  1.  p.  specified. 

4.  R.deAvesbury  Hist.  Edvardsteriy  I.  255. 

5.  Minutiae  (R.  de  A-uesbury,  250,  2G6.  With  a  genealogical 
plate  opposite  p.  205. 

The  following,  which  are  taken  from  these  minutiae  of  R, 
de  Avesbury,  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  Harlcian  MS. 

For  to  stanche  bledyng  atte  the  nose,  take  clene  clay,  and 
tempre  hit  with  vynegre,  and  with  the  juys  of  an  herbe  that  is 
y  clepud  bursa  pastoris,  and  make  there  of  a  chapelet  of  good 
brede,  and  do  a  boute  the  hed  of  hym  that  bledeth,  and  hit 
shal  stanche. 

As  thou  for  holy  cliurche  right 
bare  the  bloiy  face 

To 


8i 

To  the  y  praye  both  day  and  nyght 
'         Of  joye  sende  me  a  space. 
With  an  O.  for  &  an  I.  a  space  for  to  a  byde 
Thu  here  myn  arnde  to  that  lord,  that  bare  th'eblody  syde. 
"Ihesu  kyng  in  trone 
Lord  in  mageste 
To  the  y  make  my  mone 
With  herte  good  and  fre 
frendes  have  y  none 
That  wolde  me  know  ne  se 
My  wonynge  ys  allone 
Lord  wel  wo  )'s  me 
With  an  O.  &  an  I.  my  worinynge  is  wel  nykke 
frendes  haue  y  fewe  my  fomen  walketh  thykke." 

p.  264-5. 

**  The  saying  of  Erra  Pater  to  the  Husbandsman. 

"  If  the  day  of  Saint  Paule  be  cleere. 
Then  shall  betide  an  happie  yeere; 
If  it  doe  chaunce  to  snow  or  raine. 
Then  shall  bee  deare  all  kinde  of  graine. 
But  if  the  winde  then  bee  a  loft, 
Warres  shall  vex  this  realme  full  oft : 
And  if  the  cloudes  make  dark  the  skie. 
Both  Neate  and  Fowle  this  yeare  shall  dye."  266, 

"  Beef  Hall. 

"  In  the  year  1352,  whichwas  about  the  26th  year  of  the 
Keign  of  K.  Edw.  III.  the  University  made  a  great  complaint 
about  the  vast  expenses  they  had  been  at  in  repairing  Beef- 
Hall,  &c.  This  hall  was  situated  in  Saint  Ebb's  parish,  not 
far  from  St.  Aldate's  church,  on  the  south  side  of  the  lane  that 
to  this  day  is  called  Beef-Lane.  John  fiowse,  the  Warwick 
antiquary,  mentions  it  in  the. fragments  of  his  table  that  are 
preserved  by  Mr.  Leland,  and  printed  by  me  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  volume  of  Leland's  Itin.  It  is  said  there,  that  it  was 
near  St.  Aldate's  church,  and  that  it  was  for  civilians.  Mr. 
Wogd  tells  us,  that  this  hall  was  so  called  from  the  sign  of  an 
ox  that  was  formerly  painted  either  in  one  of  the  windows,  or 
else  over  the  gate ,-  though  others  doe  not  approve  of  this  deri- 
vation, observing,  that  if  it  had  been  called  so  from  the  sign  of 
an  ox,  the  true  name  must  have  been  Ox-Hall  ;  and  there- 
fore it  seepas  to  them,  that  in  old  time,  before  it  was  purchased 
foe  the  use  of  scholars,  a  club  met  here,  and  that  they  had 
VOL,  II.  G  meals 


82 

meals  of  beef,  and  that  from  thence  it  received  its  namej  and 
that  it  retained  the  same  even  after  it  came  to  be  possessed  by 
scholars;  to  confirm  which  opinion  they  alledge  diverse  in- 
stance*.    There  are  some  remains  of  this  hall  to  this  day." 

p.  316-81&, 

"  Beadles. 

"  It  was  an  old  custom  for  the  beadles  to  dine  with  the 
Master  Inceptors  at  the  time  of  their  proceeding,  and  to  be 
splendidly  entertained  apon  that  occasion.  But  whereas  at 
such  times  the  beadles  used  to  ask  the  inceptors  to  gratify 
them  with  some  dishes  and  wine  and  ale  for  their  own  private 
families  (which  brought  an  unnecessary  charge  upon  the  in- 
ceptors) a  statute  was  made  against  such  abuses,  and  such  an 
extravagant  custom."  p.  Sip. 

"  It  was,  moreover,  decreed,  at  the  same  time,  that  the 
superior  beadles  should,  besides  the  abovementioned  allowance, 
given  ten  shillings  a  piece  to  each  of  the  inferior  beadles  every 
year  to  provide  themselves  with  shoes,  and  that  they  should 
every  year  at  the  laying  down  their  staves,  and  taking  them 
again,  be  bound  to  oblige  themselves,  that  they  would  punctu- 
ally and  religiously  observe  this  order."  321. 
E.  Coll.  nostris  MSS.  Vol.  Ix.  p.  1.  Notes  relating  to  Oxford. 

6.  Nomina  eorum,  qui  scripserunt  Msioriam  Gentis  Anglorum 
&  uli  extant;  per  Joanuem  Joscelinum  ex  eodem  Cod. 
MS.  Cott,  fol.  101.  p.  269. 

7.  Antiquus  Liber  BeJellorum  Uni-vershutis  Oxon.  p.  299-* 

8.  Notes  relating  to  Oxford.  E.  Coll,  nostris  MSS.  Vol.  Ix. 
p.  i.  — p.  314. 

9.  A  Letter  "written  by  the  Reverend  Dr.  Christof  her  Potter,  re- 
lating to  the  Privileges  of  the  University  of  Oxford,  ivith  the 

form  of  degrading  Mr.  William  Prynne.  ^  Sent  me  by  the 
learned  Mr.  Thomas  BaJier  from  the  Archives  of  Cambridge. 
J>.328. 

•  A  part  of  Hearne's  note  is  worth  adding :  "  Volumen,  in  quo 
hicce  liber,  ex  ofEcina  bibliopolas  cujusdam  Oxoniensis  redemi 
mense  Septembris  A.  D.  cio.ucc.xx.  Olim  pertinebat  ad  Anto^ 
niumaWood,  qui  titulum,  quern  hfcdedimus^praefixit.  Contin«t 
et  impressu  quodam,  Tabulam  nirnirum  Festorum  msbilium,  Kalen- 
darium,  et  Frairis  Hieronymi  Sauonarole  de  Ferrariis  Ordinis  Predica. 
torum.  expositionem  inpsalmos  Miserere  Mei  Deus.  Sui  reges  Israel  et 
tres  'versus  psalmi  In  te  d'ne  sperarii.  Varum  hscc  [quse  e  prelo  As- 
censiano  prodierunt]  omittenda  plane  esse  duximus,  utpote  a  re 
nostra  quasi  aliena.  Hoc  taraen  sciendum  est,  in  Bibliotheca 
BocUeiana  me  olim  vidisse  Codicem  MS.  in  quo  hisce,  quse  nunc 
edimus,  similia  reperi,  &c." 

10' 


83 

10,  Domlnicum  Domini  Regis  de  Wodestok.  e  Recordo  fn 
Tarri  Londinensi.  j).  331.  In  hoc  Recordo  perveteii  mentio 
fit  Bosamundse  pulchrae. 

n.  Letters  of  K.  HenryVlll.  to  Anne  Bolen.p.My.  e  Coll. 
MSS.  Smithianis  penes  Editorem.  Vol.  xcvii.  p.  I. 

"  Letters   of  K.  Henry   Fill,  to  Anne  Men  E  Coll. 
MSS.  Smithianis  penes  me,  Vol.  xcvii.  p.  i. 

N»  I. 

— •  '  '  '  Vous  assurant  que  de  ma  part  V  annuye  d'  ab- 
sence deja  m'est  trop  giande;  et  quant  je  pense  a  r'augmen- 
tation  d'icelleuy,  que  per  force  faut  que  je  soufFre, ,  il  m'est 
presque  intoUerable,  si  n'estoit  la  ferme  espoirCj  que  J'aye  de 
votre  indissoluble  affection  vers  moy;  et  pur  le  vous  rementer- 
oir  alcune  fois  cela,  et  voyant  qui  persouellement  je  ne  puis 
estre  en  votre  pre5ei¥:e,  chose  la  plus  approchant  a  cella,  qui 
tn'est  possible  au  present,  je  vous  envoye,  c'est  a  dire,  ma 
picture  misse  en  braselettes  a  toute  la  device,  que  deja  saves, 
mesouhaittant  en  leur  place,  quant  il  vous  pkiroit,  c'est  de  la 
main  de  t- 

Votre  sefviteur  et  ami 

-  H.  H. 

N°IV. 

■  Vous  suppliant  me  faire  entiere  responce  de  cette 
ma  rtide  lettre,  a  quoy  et  en  quoy  me  puis  fier ;  et  si  ne  vous 
plait  de  me  fair  response  per  escrite,  assure  moi  quelque  lieu 
la,  ou  je^la  pourroy  avoir  de  bouche,  et  je  m'y  trouveray  de 
bien  bon  coeur.  Non  plus  de  peur  de  vous  enuyer.  Escrite 
de  la  main  de  celluy,  qui  volon tiers  demeureroit  votre 

H.  H. 

N°V. 

■  Vous  priant  aussi,  que  si  aucunement  je  vous  aye 


per  cy  devant  offence,  que  vous  me  donnes  la  mesrae  absolu- 
tion, que  vous  demandes,  vous  assewrant,  que  d'ornnevanta 
vous  seule  non  ceur  sera  dedie,  desirant  fort,  qiic  le  corps  ainsi 
pouvoit,  corame  dieu  le  peut  fair,  si  luy  plait,  a  qui  je  supplie 
une  fois  le  jeur  pour  ce  fair,  esperant  que  a  la  long  ma  priere 
fera  ouye,  desirant  le  temps,  pansant  le  long  jusques  au  reveu 
d'  entre  nous  deux.  Escrite  de  la  main  du  secretair  qui  en 
ceur,  corps,  et  volonte  est. 

Votre  loyal  ^  plus  assure  serviteur 

H  autre  [A.]  ne  cherche  B. 


§4 

K°VI, 

The  reasonable  request  of  your  last  letter  with  the  pleasure 
I  also  take  to  know  them  true  cause[s]  me  to  send  you  now 
this  news.  The  Legat,  which  we  most  desire,  arrived  at 
Paris  on  Sunday  or  Munday  last  past,  so  that  I  trust  by  the 
next  Munday  to  hear  of  his  arrival  at  Calais,  and  then  I  trust 
within  awhile  after  to  enjoy  that,  which  I  have  so  long  longed 
for,  to- God's  pleasure  and  our  both  comforts.  No  more  to  you 
at  this  present,  mine  own  darling,  for  lack  of  timej  but  that  I 
would  you  were  in  mine  arms,  or  I  in  yours  :  for  I  think  it 
long  since  I  kyst  you.  Written  after  the  killing  of  an  hart  at 
XI  of  the  clock,  minding  with  God's  grace  to  morrow  mightily 
timely  to  kill  another.  By  the  band  of  him,  which  I  trust 
shortly  shall  be  yours. 

Henry  H. 
N  IX. 

"  The  cause  of  my  writing  at  this  time  (good  sweet  heart) 
is  woniy  to  understand  of  your  good  health  and  prosperity; 
whereof  to  know,  I  would  be  as  glad  as  in  manner  mine  awn, 
praying  God  (that  and  it  le  his  pleasure)  to  send  us  shortly 
togydir;  for  I  promise  you  I  long  for  itj  howbeit  trust  it  shall 
not  be  long  to  j  and  seeing  my  Darling  is  absent,  I  can  no  less 
do  than  to  send  her  some  flesh,  representing  my  name,  which 
is  Harts'  flesh  for  Henry ;  prognosticating  that,  hereafter,  God 
willing,  you  must  enjoy  some  of  mine,  which,  if  h€  pleased,  I 
wold  were  now."  &c.  H.  H. 

N-'X. 

In  this  letter  Henry  entreats  Ann  Boleyn  to  beg  of  her 
father  to  hasten  their  nuptials — "  vous  suppliant  ma  mestress, 
de  dire  a  Monsr.  votre  pere,  de  ma  part,  que  je  luy  prie  de 
arancer  de  deux  jours  le  temps  assin6."  &c. 

N°XVI. 

"  Mine  own  sweet  heart,  this  shall  be  to  advertise  you  of 
the  great  ellengeness,  that  I  find  here,  since  your  departing : 
for  1  ensure  you  me  thinketh  the  time  longer  since  your  de- 
parting now  last,  than  I  was  wont  to  do  a  whole  fortnight.  I 
think  your  kiudness.and  my  fervence  of  love  causeth  it;  for 
otherwise  I  would  not  thought  it  possible,  tliat  for  so  little  a 
while  it  should  have  grieved  me ;  but  now  that  I  am  coming 
toward^  you,  me  thinketh  my  pains  been  half  released ;  and 
also  I  am  right  well  comforted,  in  so  much  that  my  book 
maketh  substantially  for  my  matter :  in  writing  whereof  I 
have  spent  above  IV  hours  t(iis  day,  which  caused  me  now  to 
write  the  shorter  letter  to  you  at  this  time,  because  of  some 

-    pain 


85 

pain  in  my  head  5  wishing  myself  (specially  on  evening)  in 
my  sweet  hearts'  arms,'  whose  pretty  dukkyes  I  trust  shortly 
to  r.usse.  Written  with  the  hand  of  him,  that  was,  is,  and 
shall  be  yours  by  his  will.  H.  H. 

"  These  are  the  Letters  (adds  Hearne)  of  H.  VIII.  to  Ann 
Mullen,  faithfully  transcribed  from  a  copy  taken  from  the  Originals, 
•which  are  heft  in  the  Vatican  at  Borne.  The  cofy  taken  1082." 
p.  347  362. 

12.  Injunctions  geven  in  the  Visitacion  of  the  moste  Renjerende 

father  in  god,  the  lorde  car dinall  Poole  s  grace,  legate  de  La-  ' 
tere,  by  Ins  subdelegaie  James,  by  the  fermissi.  n    of  god, 
hishope  of  Gloucestre,  througheout  his  Dioceses  of  Ghucestre, 
155S. 

13     Index,  p.  363. 

14.  Operum  Nostrorum  Catalogus.  371. 

With  these  curious  extracts  I  take  leave  of  those 
publications  of  Hearne  which  relate  to  Regal  Bio- 
graphy. Annals,  Antiquities,  and  Biography  in 
General,  will  form  the  subjects  of  the  remainder  of  this 
Catalogue  Raisonne.  If  the  reader,  who  is  well  versed 
in  Hernean  lore,  approve  of  the  minute  but  desultory 
manner  in  which  the  foregoing  comrriunications  are 
made,  the  compiler  of  this  Catalogue  will  never  think 
the  labour  it  has  cost  him  thrown  away.  Bibliography 
is  a  severe  study :  in  due  time  it  may  become  a  popular 
one. 

T.  F.  D. 
Kensington,  Augustas',  1810. 


^  New  Ep'grams,  and  a  Satyre.  Written  ly  los. 
Marlyn,  a  wel-wisher  to  study.  Est  quoddam  prodire 
temis,  si  non  datur  vltra.  London,  printed  ly  G. 
Eld,  dwelling  in  Little-Britaine.  162.1.  qto.  16 
leaves. 

Dedicated  in  rhyme  "  to  the  Right  Worshipful!  Sir 
Henry  Martyn,  Knight,"  by,  "  in  all  true  devotion, 
loseph  Martyn."  In  "  a  poetical  insinuation,"  the 
.author  introduces  his  muse,  "  that  for  these  sixe  yeeres 
day  was  mute,"  as  unacquainted  with  the  wits  of  Per- 
nassus.     The  epigrams  are  sixty  in  number,  and  the 

G  3  satire 


n6 

satire  is  addressed  to  his  "kinsman,  William  Martyn,  of 
the  Middle  Temple,  Gent."  At  the  end  he  is  com- 
mended by  his  dear  friend,  Rob.  Cooke,  "  though  yong 
and  scarcely  fledg'd,"  as  daring  to  be  heard  amongst  old 
chaunters. 

'^  To  the  vnkind  Reader. 

"  Avthors  that  write,  and  readers  that  suruey, 
Like  verbs  do  in  their  kinds  themseiiies  display  t 
Authors,  we  actiue,  passiue,  common  call. 
They  must  inuent,  endure,  be  read  of  all. 
Readers  both  wise  and  weake  of  each  degree, 
in  censure  must  like  verbs  deponent  be. 
But  fearing,  least  thy  censure  should  depraue  me, 
No  verbe,  unlesse  a  neuter,  I  would  haue  thee." 

"  A  Carpet- Knight. 

<'  Thou  like  the  fox,  the  ape,  the  lyon  art. 
Thy  words  are  wounds,  thy  tongue  it  selfe  the  dart. 
Thou,  like  the  fox,  dost  tell  the  crow  he'es  white. 
To  please  his  eare,  and  feed  thine  appetite: 
Thou  art  the  ape  of  other  m^n's  affection. 
And  to  their  wils,  thy  words  haue  still  refexion. 
Hauing  beguil'd  them  thus,  like  foxe  and  ape. 
Thou  dost  deuoure  them  in  a  lyon's  shape."* 

»A 

*  The  carpet  knight  appears  to  have  been  a  term  characteristi- 
cally applied  to  those  who  obtained  their  honours,  with  an  "  un- 
hacked  rapier:"  amidst  the  holiday  gifts  of  their  sovereign,  rather 
than  bravely  acquired  in  the  field  of  battle,  or  boasting  a  prescrip- 
tive claim  by  proying  victorious  at  a  tournament.  Of  their  insig- 
nificance and  futile  employments  innumerable  passages  may  be 
adduced  frora  early  vyriters,  with  whom  the  expression  was  long 
and  generally  used.  Whetstone,  in  the  story  ofKiqaldo  and  Gi- 
letta,  in  the  Rock  of  Regard,  1576,  jays,  "  pow  he  co"sults,  w'. 
carpet  knights,  about  curious  masks  &  other  delightful  shewes; 
anon  he  runs  vnto  the  tailers,  to  see  his  apparell  made  ofy^ 
straungest  &  costliest  fashion  :"  and  as  late  as  1634,  in  "A  strange 
Metamorphosis  of  Man,"  the  squirrell  is  declared  to  be  "  no  car- 
pet-knight that  danceth  on  strewed  tapestries,  for  he  will  dance 
Upon  a  tree  without  any  musicke.  "  The  character  is  minutely 
delineated  in  the  following  lines  from  '«  A  Happy  Husband,  or 
Directions  for  a  maid  to  chuse  her  mate,  together  with  a  wives  be- 
haviovr  after  Mariage,  by  Patrick  Hannay,  Gent.  i6ii." 
*^  A  Carpet  knight,  who  makes  it  his  chiefe  care 
To  trick  him  neatly  vp,  and  doth  not  spare 

<Thopgh 


8; 

"  A  Gamester. 

"  I  rcmch  admir'dej  that  raong'st  all  other  wights 
Compos'de  of  earthly  mould,  and  beauenly  sprights. 
Others,  of  all  sorts,  pletitifully  Hue, 
Yet,  most  vnhappie,  Gamsters  neuer  thriue, 
1  guess  the  reason :  others  purchnse  land. 
Their  whole  estate  on  moueables  doth  stand." 

"  Of  the  merry  Host, 

'■'  Mine  Host,  to  entertaine  his  weary  guest. 
Would  now  and  then  put  forth  a  merry  jest; 
And  did  so  please  him,  with  his  iesting  veine. 
His  guest  resolu'd  a  while  with  him  t'  remaine. 
But  staid  so  long  vntill  his  merry  host 
Had  left  no  roome  to  score  vpon  the  post. 
And  calling  for  a  reckoning  soohe  he  found 
Hee'd  much  out  stript  his  ordinary  bound- 
But  ere  he  went,  by  jesting  this  he  got. 
To  leaue  his  horse  in  earnest,  for  the  shot," 

J.  H- 


(Though  sparing)  precious  time  for  to  deuoure, 

Consulting  with  his  glasse,  a  tedious  honre 

Soone  flees,  spent  so,  while  each  irregular  haire 

His  Barbor  rectifies,  and  to  seeme  rare. 

His  heat-lost- lockts,  to  thicken  closely  curies', 

And  curiously  doth  set  his  raisplacM  purles; 

Powders,  perfumes,  are  then  profusely  spent, 

■To  rectifie  his  natiue  nasty  ,s£c]ent: 

This  forenoones  task  perform'd,  his  way  he  takes. 

And  chamber-practis'd  crauing  cur[tlsres  makes 

To  each  he  meets  ;  with  cringes,  and  screw'd  faces, 

(Which  his  too  p.irtiall  glasse  approuM  for  graces  ;) 

Then  dines,  and  after  courts  some  courtly  dame, 

Or  idle  busie-bout  misspending  game; 

Then  suppes,  then  sleepes,  then  rises  for  to  spend 

Next  day  as  that  before,  as  'twere  the  end 

For  which  he  came ;  so  womaniz'd  turn'd  Dame, 

As  place  'mongst  Quid's  changlings  he  might  claime ; 

What  ?  doe  not  such  discouer  their  weake  minde 

(Vnapt  for  actiue  vertue)  is  inclinds 

To  superficial!  things,  and  can  irabrace 

But  outward  habits  for  internall  grace," 


G  4  The 


88 


%  The  Man  m  the  Moone,  telling  Strange  Fortvnes,  or 
the  English  Fortune-feller,  Nihil  suO  sole  certum. 
Loniion,  printed  ly  1.  W.  for  Nathaniel  Bvtter. 
i6og.  qto,  27  leaves. 

The  Dedication  to  M.  Thomas  Smith  of  Clarkenwell, 
gentleman  to  the  Lord  Lisle,  Lord  Chamberlain  to  the 
Queen,  and  advertisem,eut  to  the  reader,  are  subscribed 
with  W.  M. 

In  this  trifle  three  orators  are  introduced.  "  Mockso, 
described  ihe  habite  and  gesture;  Opinion,  reueile  their 
conditions)  Fido,  tolde  euery  man  his  fortune,  as  he 
came  vnto  him."  The  number  of  characters  extends  to 
thirteen,  viz.  the  drunkard,  tobacconist,  prodigal,*  ser- 
uingman,  lewde  woman,  retainer,  extortioner,  glutton, 
parasite,  wanton  wife,  jealous  man,  lover  and  vii'gin. 
The  jealous  man  may  serve  as  a  specimen.  Restless  in- 
quietude, doubtful  and  anxious  suspicion,  and  with  all 
void  of  foundation,  gives  the  delineation  close  similarity 
to  Ben  Jonson's  character  ofKnowell  the  elder,  in  the 
play  of  Every  Man  in  his  Humour. 

^^  The  iealous  man  entereth  to  know  hisforlvne,  Mockso 
describing  him. 

"  Who  is  that,  said  Fido  ?  One  as  melancholic  as  a  cat, 
,answered  Mockso,  and  glared  vpon  me  as  if  he  would  have 
looked  through  me :  sure  hee  lacketh  something,  he  gazeth 
so  about  him :  hplde  not  dowile  tbine  head  for  shame,  like  a 

*  Mockso  thus  decyphprs  his  apparell  and  gait.  "  I  know  not 
of  what  countrey,  nation,  sex  or  fashion  he  is,  his  face  is  like  a 
man's:  but  the  t'one  side  or  his  head  like  a  woman:  some  pur- 
blinde  barber  powled  him,  to  cut  his  haire  so  vnequally,  and 
Jeaueone  locke  a  quarter  of  a  yard  longer  then  the  other  :  by  the 
biccke  cf  his  head  (put  them  both  together,  and  see  what  they 
spell)  he  should  bee  a  Spaniard,  but  his  dublet  sheweth  him  a 
Frenchman  :  now  I  see  his  breeches, made  like  a  paire  of  smiths 
bellowes,  erected  with  Jthe  smallend  vpwards:  he  seemeth  a  Wal- 
loone:  raarrie  there  is  no  excesse  in  his  cloake,  he  tooke  the 
length  thereof  by  the  old  apes  of  Paris  Garden :  a  sweete  youth  no 
doubt,  for  he  hath  two  roses  on  his  shoes,  to  qualifie  the  heat  of 
fwsfeete:  he  lopl^eth  very  bigly,  and  commeth  praunping  in." 

beasts 


89 

feeast:  but  erect  thy  countenance  like  a  man.  Heigh-lio  hcew 
he  sigheth,  &  beateth  his  brest,  as  if  there  were  something 
there  angering  him  ;  Why  doth  he  feele  his  forehead  so  often, 
it  is  smooth  enough,'  he  doubteth  (I  lay  my  lif  )  they  wil 
sprowt  out  shortly,,  and  shal  sone  become  as  huge  headed  as 
■was  Acteon,  after  hee  gazed  on  the  goddesse  bathing  herselfe 
with  her  nymphes  in  the  fountaine. 

"  Opinion  of  the  iealous  man. 

"  He  is  more  afraid  then  hurt  (said  Opinion)  hee  mace- 
rateth  his  minde  -without  cause,  and  troubleth  his  thoughts 
without  true  reason :  his  wife  is  faire,  therefore  he  thinketh 
her  false  :  of  a  wittie  disposition,  therefore  he  deemeth  her  a 
wagge-taile  :  all  that  speake  to  her,  hee  thinketh  wooe  her,  & 
euery  man  that  looketh  on  her,  he  iudgeth  loues  her:  let  her 
speake  him  faire,  then  she  faigneth,  let  her  vse  him  duiifully, 
thein  she  doth  counterfet :  if  she  keepeth  home,  it  is  volens 
nolens  against  her  wil:  let  her  goe  abroad,  then  his  head 
aketh,  and  his  heart  panteth  :  is  shee  neatly  arraied,  that  is 
but  to  allure  and  please  others  :  is  she  homely  dressed  she 
knoweth  he  wil  keepe  house  that  day  :  goe  they  in  the  streetes 
together,  if  she  glanceth  but  a  side,  hee  knoweth  her  minde 
forsooth:  courtesie  in  her,  is  tlie  loadstone  of  h  rlust:  and 
affabilitie  the  cunning  orator  for  her  concupiscence:  bringcth 
he  any  to  his  table,  if  she  carue  them,  it  is  in  hope  of  some 
amorous  re<juitall :  if  shee  driniie  to  them,  their  pledgings  are 
but  as  pledges  of  their  concealed  loues:  they  which  proffer 
their  kindnesse,  he  surmiseth  it  pretendeth  for  opportunitie  to 
his  wife;  and  they  which  frequent  his  house  be  they  of  his 
neerest  alliance  or  kindred,  he^  suspecteth  :  to  be  briefe  with 
him,  he  is  fortune's  forestaller,  his  mindes  misierie,  his  bodies 
bane,  a  reiecter  of  his  most  intimate  familiers,  a  suspicious  ill 
liuer  (for  the  wife  would"  neuer  haue  sought  her  daughter  iti 
theouen,  vnlesse  she  herselfe  had  beenl:  there  in  former  times) 
au  erroneous  hereticke  in  the  opinion  of  his  wife,  an  vnrea- 
sonable  apd  causelesse  iealous  man. 

^'  The  Fortune  teller's  Oration  to  the  iealous  ma7i,  de- 
claring his  folly  and  fortune. 

f  Sir,  of  all  men,  T  holde  you  most  senselesse,  who  without 

certaine  grownd  and  sure  experience  should  raisconceit  that 

fyhich  was  neuer  meant  you  :  catjnot  your  wife  be  faire,  but 

iasijiuious  ?  what  say  you  to  Lucretia  ?  can  you -not  be  absent  ? 

'  '■•  "  but 


but  she  will  play  foule?  how  think  you  of  Penelope?  who  in 
the  ten ne  years  abseiicfi  of  her  husband  liued  chaste  andvn- 
tonched :  but  suppose  that  w  hich  you  suspect,  were  certaine  : 
sores  past  cure  are  past  care:  <^uod  factum,  est,  ivfectum  esse 
nequit:  that  which  is  done  cannot  be  vndone:  that  which  will 
be  shall  be:  if  she  be  chaste  and  vertuous^  no  beautie  can 
tempt  her,  no  giftes  allure  her,  no  perswasions  winne  her  s 
but  if  she  be  disloyall,  keepe  her  neuer  so  close,  she  will  some- 
titae  or  other  flie  out  in  despight  of  you. 

Vt  iam  seruaris  bene  corpus  adultera  mens  est, 
Nee  custodiri,  ni  velit,  ipsa  potest. 

When  lupiter  loued  lo,  a  rielicious  damsell,  bis  wife  being 
tnistrustfull,  dogged  hiro,  to  finde  out  his  dealing  :  who  to  con- 
ceale  his  faulr,  turned  the  lady  into  an  haifer,  wnich  luno 
begged,  and  resigned  to  the  custodie  of  Argus,  who  although 
he  was  faigned  to  haue  an  hundred  eies  :  yet  was  he  beguiled 
of  the  iewell  he  watched  so  narrowly :  so  be  you  neuer  so 
vigilant  and  circumspect,  if  she  be  so  disposed,  she  will,  Non 
caret  effectu  quod  voluere  duo:  needlesse  therefore  will  your 
care  be  if  you  haue  no  cause:  and  although  you  hane  good 
reason  of  none  effect,  Naturam  expellas  furca,  licet  usque  re- 
eurret :  Now  to  your  fortune:  if  you  bt^  obstinate  in  your  be- 
leefe,  and  so  confirme  in  your  false  faith,  you  vvill  martir 
your  selfe  most  miserably,  your  body  will  be  soone  wasted, 
and  your  substance  consumed,  bfcau-e  when  your  thoughts 
are  destracted  with  such  friuolous  matters,  you  can  neuer 
seriously  negociate  your  estate-concerning,  and  supporting  de- 
signes,)'our  best  way  therefore  is  to  fhinke  the  best,  iudge  the 
best,  et  modo  te  sanum  fingito,  sanus  eris.  Away  the  iealous 
man  departed,  and  another  knocked  at  the  gate," 

J.H, 


•^  Seuen  Sols  of  a  SorrowfuU  Soulefor  Sinne:  comprC'. 
kending  those  seuen  psalms  of  the  pri?icelie  prophet 
David,  commonlie  called  Pa-vitentiall;  framed  into 
a  form  of  familiar  praiers,  and  reduced  into  meetre 
ly  William  Hvnms,  one  of  the  Gentlemen  of  hir 
Majesties  honourable  Chappel.  and  maister  to  the 
children  of  the  same.  IVIiereunto  are  also  annexed 
his  Handftill   of  Honisuckles ;    the  Poore  Widowes 

Mite ; 


91 

Mite;  a  Dialogue  lelweene  Christ  &  a  Sinner ^ 
diners  godly  and  pithy  ditties,  with  a  Christian  con- 
fession of  and  to  the  Trinitie;  newly  printed  and 
augmented,  1615.  2411)0. 

There  are  separate  tiile,  pages  to  the  HandfuJl  of 
Honisuckles,  the  Poore  Widowes  Mite,  and  the  Confes- 
sion of  and  to  the  Trinitie,  which  bear  the  i-mprint  of 
"  H.  L.  for  the  Company  of  Stationers."  Ahhougfe 
Warton  has  passed  rafher  a  severe  censure  oa  this  volume, 
some  of  the  smaller  pieces  will  bear  transcription.  The 
above  edition  is  not  noticed  in  Ritson.  Following  the 
title  is  a  dedication  ^'  To  Frances,  Countesse  of  Sussexc.'^ 

"  The  Author  to  his  Boofie, 

"  Passe  forth  my  booke  into  the  hands 

and  view  of  sundry  men  : 
Humble  thy  selfe,  declare  thy  name 

who  thee,  thus  clad,  and  when. 
And  bhjsh  not  at  the  frumps  of  some, 

pe  feare  at  others  frowne : 
More  rich  thoil  art  in  threadbare  coatc 

then  some  in  silken  gowne. 
,  And  giue'  them  all  to  vnderstand, 

from  whence  thou  lirst.did  spring? 
How  thou  wert  fostred  in  the  breast 

and  bosome  of  a  King.* 
And  so  (perhaps)-some  worthy  wight 

will  shape  thee  rich  array. 
And  set  thee  forth,  as  thou  desetv'st 

•with  costly  iey^fels  gay. 
Behaue  thy  selfe  in  such  good  sortCj 

if  possible  may  be. 
That  euery  one  may  thee  embrace, 

and  wish  well  vnto  me. 
Vals," 

f  A  prayer  for  the  King's  most  Excellent  Majesty. 

''  O  King  of  heauen,  of  earth,  of  sea, 
and  all  things  else  beside ; 
Vnder  whose  power,  &  in  whose  hands, 
iJ^e  hearts  of  Kings  abide  ? 

^  i.  e.  David. 

Vsuchsafe 


92 

Vouchsafe  to  guide  our  gratious  Kiag, 

thy  seruant  lames  aright. 
That  he  in  peace  with  health  may  raigne, 

and  gouerne  through  thy  might; 
And  when  thy  godly  will  shall  be, 

to  end  his  liuing  dayes. 
His  soule  may  then  with  angels  thine 

sound  forth  thy  endless  praise.     Amen." 

The  Poore  Widow's  Mite  is  inscribed  in  an  acrostic 
"  To  the  Qiieenes  Majesties  Highness,"  Elizabeth  Re- 
gina,  and  on  the  back  is  an  acrostic  on  himself. 

"  A  prayer  for  the  good  estate  of  King  lames. 

"  Thou  God  that  guidst'  both  heauen  &  earth, 
on  whom  we  all  depend; 
Preserue  our  King^  in  perfect  health, 

and  him  ^  from  harme  defend. 
Consenie  his  +  life  in  peace  to  raigne, 

augment  his  s  ioyfes  withall ; 
Increase  his  friends,  maintaine  his  cause, 

and  heare  vs  when  we  call. 
So  shall  all  wee  that  faithfull  be, 

reioyce  and  praise  thy  name: 
O  God,  O,  Christ,  O  Holy  Ghost, 

give  eare  and  grant  the  same.     Amen." 

This  last  piece,  and  four  others,  in  Hunnis'  volume, 
are  also  to  be  found  in  the  Wenman  MS.*  See  Appendix 
p.  xyi  and  xvii  to  "  The  Legend  of  Mary  and  other 
ancient  Poems  from  MSS.  of  the  i6th  Century.  1810. 
8vo.  The  poem  which  is  common  to  the  MS.  and  to 
\htParadi!,e  of  daintie  devices  (see  British  Bib.  Vol.  I, 
351)  is  also  in  Hunnis,  page  60,  of  the  Widowes  Mite. 

Bristol,  1810.  J,  F. 


^  A shorte  treatise vponthe  Turkes  Chronicles,  compyled 
ly  Paulus  Jouius  byshop  of  Nucerne,  and  dedicated 
to  Charles  the  V  Emperour.  Drawen  oute  of  the 
Italy  en  long  in  to  Latyne,  ly  Franciscus  Niger  Bas- 

*  Variations  in  the  Wenman  MS.  »  guids,  *  Qupene,  '  her, 
♦her,  5  her. 

sianates. 


93 

sianates.  jind  translated  out  of  Latyn^  into  englysh 
hy  Peter  Ashton.  The  contetes  of  the  loks.  The  le- 
gynnyng  of  the  turkysshe  empyre.  The  lyiies  of  al  the 
l\rkyshe  Em.perours.  The  araye  and  discipLii  of 
the  Twrkysh  warfare  described  &f  set  forth  r/iosi 
exactly,  the  sayd  Paulus  beyng  the  aulhour. 

Wakevp  noiv,  Christiens  out  of  your  slumlre. 
Of  the  Turkes  to  recnuer  your  long  lost  glory 

Feare  not  theyr  strength,  t hey r  power,  ne  ?ivmbre, 
Sith  ryglit  &  not  myght,  atchyueth  the  victory. 

(Col.)  Imprinted  at  London,  in  Flete  strele,  at 
the  signe  of  the  Sunne,  ouer  against  the  conduyte,  hy 
,  Edvvarde  FVhitchurche.  The  xii  day  of  Auguste,  the 
yere  of  our  lorde  M.D.XLFI.  Cum,  ^c.  Oct. 
153  leaves. 

**  A  singular   poem,"  aceowiing  to  Rltson's  Biblto- 
graphia  Poetica,  is  at  the  back  of  the  title. 

"  Thomas  Cicell. 

"  As  warres  betwene  Rome  and  Carthage  were  aye  moral, 
"When  Amylcar  had  sworiie  hys  yonge  sonne  Annibal 

He  then  vnnethes  ix  yeres  of  age. 

When  he  myght  for  hys  tender  age. 
To  the  people  of  Rome  to  be  most  deadly  foe  : 
To  whome  he  plyght  his  faythe  and  truthe  it  shulde  be  so. 

Wherefore  although  he  dyd  sore  dere 

The  Romaynes  theyr  empyre. 
Wyth  beastly  crucltye,  which  forst  not  of  the  goddiy : 
Yet  at  last,  as  by  wyll  of  thalmyghty  Goddes 

Stept  forlh  Scipio  that  worthy  knyght, 

Whome  Annibal  wyth  al  hys  myght  j^stede. 

Could  not  w'stand :    for  why  his  wyles  stode  hym  no 
Then  Carthage  thou  layest  al  along :  the  goddes  indede 

Such  desteny  for  the  had  dyght:  ^ 

So  stode  theauens  when  thou  wert  buylt. 
So  O  Chrislendome,  Thottoraan  hath  ben  enermore 
Thy  cruel  and  heauy  fot,  and  greued  the  ryght  sore. 

Bloodshed  and  slaughter  he  bath  wrought. 

To  destroye  the  al  meanes  hath  he  sought. 
Thy  fresh  flowers  he  hath  bereued,  thy  riche,  thy  sironge. 
Thy  noble  cities  they  ben  his.     Thou  hast  more  wronge, 

Constantinople, 


94 

Constantinople,  Rhodes^  Belgrade, 

Bude  hys  herytage  he  hath  made. 
Whylom  whiche  were  thyne,  and  shalbe  I  hope  agayne^ 
For  well  I  wot,  that  cursed  seede  shal  not  long  raygne. 

For  some  Christien  Camillas, 

Or  Scipio  Africanus.  [store 

(Be  of  good  chere)  shall  spryng  vp,  which  wyll  the  re- 
To  ioye,  ryches,  and  wealth,  double  thou  had  before. 

This  blooddye  Turkysh  Annibal 

His  power  shall  fade  and  haue  a  fall. 
Nowe  all  ye  gentrye  of  Englande  this  boke  embrace. 
For  of  Christendome  so  staiideth  the  plyght  and  case. 

No  bystorye  is  more  requisite,^ 

And  it  is  nowe  set  forthe  with  lyght." 

The  Epistle  Dedicatory  is  addressed  to  Sir  Rafe  Sadler, 
Knight,  Master  of  the  King's  Wardrobe,  by  "  his  most 
humble  seruant  Peter  Assheton;"  who,  after  urging  the 
great  advantages  derived  from  the  knowledge  of  history, 
speaks  with  becoming  difSdence  of  his  own  performance. 

"  This  simple  translation  althoughe  it  be,  of  my  behalfe 
but  rudely  and  groslye  turnedj  yet  neuerthelesse'  I  shal  most 
hu~bly  beseche  your  ge~tylnes  to  accept  and  take  it  in  good 
worthe.  So  that  al  other,  (to  whose  hands  it  shal  come)  es- 
temyng  it,  as  a  thinge,  throughe  y^.  name  of  your  right  hono- 
rable mastership,  sufficiently  auctorised  worthye  to  be  loked  on 
maye  the  more  eriiestly  read  &  embrace  it.  Desyring  your 
gopdnes,  not  so  muche  to  regarde  &  lokefor  picked  termes  & 
strange  Englishe  wordes,  (whiche  in  deed  be  liot  here)  as  for 
the  playne  settinge  forthe  of  the  sentence  and  right  declara- 
tion of  the  history.  For  truly,  throwghe  out  al  this  simple  & 
rude  translation,  I  studyed  rather  to  vse  the  most  playn  and 
famylier  english  speeche,  the"  ether  Chancers  wordes  (which 
by  reason  of  antiquitie  be  almost  out  of  vse)  or  els  inkhorne 
terraes,  (as  they  call  them)  whiche  the  qommon  people,  for' 
lacke  of  latin,  do  not  vnderstand.. . .  In  this  poynt  I  dyffer 
sumwhat  fro"  the  most  parte  of  writers  now  a  dayes." 

The  history  is  divided  into  twenty  chapters,  commenc- 
ing with  the  choice  of  Solyman  as  captain  to  oppose 
"  tire  noble  and  valiant  christen  capitayne  Godfray  de 
Boleigne,"  and  concludes  with  the  Solyman  then  reign- 
ing. In  the  last  chapter  is  described  an  intended  com- 
binatiori  of  Christian  powers  to  overthrow  the  Turkish 
empire  in  the  time  of  Leo  X. 

"But 


9$ 

"  But  lyke  as  there  was  nothyng  more  difficulte  he  harde, 
at  that  tyme,  than  to  assemble  and  bring  together  the  strength 
and  power  of  the  Christyens,  and  namelye  those  mightye 
princes,  so  it  pleased  God  that  al  this  consultatio"  andappoynt- 
ment  shiilde  be  dashed  and  Icfie  vndone,  that  this  occasion  to 
vanquissh  and  bryng  vnder  the '  Xurkes,  myght  be  deterred 
vnto  a  more  quyete,  and  coniienient  tyme,  and  thus  beynge 
reserued  foryoure  noble  maiesticjieadyenowe  andof  sufEciente 
age  to  vndertake  the  same,  might  aduau~ce  you  (as  through 
your  maiiyfolde  vertiies  your  maiestie  well  deserueth)  to  the 
Jbyghest  step  and  prycke  of  sincere  prayse  and  glorye." 


*|  ji  Regiment  for  the  Sea:  contaynyng  most  profi- 
table Rules,  Mathematical  experiences,  and  perfect 
knowledge  of  Nauigation,  for  all  Coastes  and  Coun- 
treys:  most  needful  and  necessary  for  all  Seffaryng 
men  and  Travellers,  as  Pilotes,  Mariners,  Mar- 
chauntes,  ?Sc.  Exactly  deuised  and  made,  by  IVH- 
liam  Bourne.  [Wood-cut  of  a  ship.]  Imprinted  at 
London  nigh  vnto  the  three  Cranes  in  the  Vintree, 
by  Thomas  Dawson,  and  Thomas  Gardyner,for  John 
Wight.  No  date.*  410.  folios  63,  with  12  of  prefatory 
matter. 

It  is  dedicated  "  to  the  Right.  Honoirrable  Edwarde 
Earle  of  Lincolrie,  Baron  of  Clinton  and  Say,  Knight  of 
the  Noble  Order  of  the  Garter,  Lord  High  Admirall  of 
England,  Ireland,  and  -Wales,  and  of  the  Dominions  and 
lies  therof,  of  theTowne  of  Calice,  and  Marches  of  the 
same,  Nortnandie,  Gascoygne,  and  Giiyone,  and  Cap- 
tayne  Generall  of  the  Qi^ieenes  Majesties  Seas  and  Nauie 
Royall."  Following  are  a  "  Preface  to  the  Reader;" 
three  commendatory  verses  not  mentioned  by  Ritson; 

*  This  edition  does  not  seem  noticed  in  Herbert ;  for  others  by 
Racket,  4to.  no  date  (circa  1574);  East  for  IVight,  1584,410.; 
East  for  Thomas  Wight,  4to.  1596;  vide  Hsrbeit,  Vol.  XI,  899, 
783,  io»o. 

"I.H. 


g6 

"  T.  H.  in  Commendation  of  the  Booke,"  seven  lines. 
"  T.  H.  in  prayse  of  the  Author,"  eighteen  lines.  "  A.  R. 
to  the  Author,"  eighty  lines,  neither  of  them  worth  tran- 
scribing. "  The  Kalendar;"  "  A  Table  or  Kalender  for 
30  years,"  from  157410  16035  on  the  length  of  the  day. 
"  A  Table  of  ihe  reigne  of  Kinges  since  the  Conquest." 
"  A  profitable  and  necessary  Rule  to  knowe  the  begyn- 
ningand  endyng  of  euery  Terme,  with  their  Returnes." 
Then  succeeds  the  work,  which  is  completed  in  sixty-three 
folios.  It  concludes,  "  shortly  after  this,  looke  for  two 
other  workes  of  myne,  the  one  called.  The  Shootyng  in 
great  Ordinance,  and  another  nained,  ^  Treasure  for 
Trauellers :  whiche  two  bookes  wyll  be  profitable,  I  trust, 
for  al  men.  If  these  my  labors  may  profit  my  countrey, 
then  haue  I  my  desire.  And  thus  I  byd  thee  moste 
hartily  farewell  " 

A  MS.  note  in  my  copy  says  this  edition  was  printed 
in  1577. 

Bristol,  IS  10.  J.  F. 


ll  A  Sermon  preached  vpon  Sunday,  leeing  the  twelfth 
of  March,  Anno  1581,  within  the  Tower  of  London: 
In  the  hearing  cf  such  obstinate  Papistes  as  then 
were  prisoners  there:  by  William  Fulke,  Doctor  in 
Diuinitie,  and  M.  of  Penbroke  Hall  in  Cambridge. 
Imprinted  at  Lo?idon,  by  Thomas  Dawson,  for 
George  Bishop.  158 1.  Col.  Impriiited  at  London 
at  the  three  Cranes  in  the  Vintree,  by  Thomas  Daw- 
son, for  George  Bishop.  158 1.  Sixteens,  65  leaves. 

The  text  John  xvii.  v.  17,  and  the  writer  alledges  the  sanc- 
tification  of  Papists  detestable.  "  As  their  holie  water,  their 
holie  bread,  their  bolie  candles,  crosses,  and  such  like;  and, 
especially,  their  holie  masse,  wherof  they  make  greatest  ac- 
count, and  their  holie,father,  whom  they  name  and  affirme 
not  only  to  be  most  holy,  but  to  be  holinesse  it  selfe." 


«  * 


T.  Dcnsley,  Printer, 
Bun  Court,  FleetScreet,  Lonrtoa 


3Britt0!)  liWiograpfjet. 


N°  VII. 


TJ  The  Ftmeralles  of  King  Edwdr,d  the  sixt.  Wherin. 
-  are  declared  the  causers  and  causes  of  his  death. 
[VVood-cut.  Portrait  of  the  king  in, an  ornamented 
oval,*  having  on  the  rim  Edvardvs,  sextvs  deigracia, 
Jnglie,  Francie^  et  Hihernie  rex,  e'tc,\/Etaiis  svaxv.^ 
Wisedome.  iiii.  He  pleased  God,  and  u^as  beloved  of 
him,  and  therefore  hath  God  removed  Jilm  from  sin- 
ners among  whom  lie  lived.  Yea  sodaynly  was  he 
taken  awaye,  to  the  ende  that  wickednes  should  not. 
filter  his  vnderstanding.  Though  he  dyed  yong,  yet 
fulfilled  he  much  time,  for  his  soule  pleased  God, 
t  kerf  ore  hasted  he  to  take  him  away  e from  among  4he 
wyckedi  _[Last  leaf  rec/o  wood-cut  repeated;  rev.  the 
man  in  a  labyrinth,  beneath]  Imprinted  a,t  .Lon- 
don in  Fleie-'strete  nere  to  saynct  Dunstons  church  ly 
Thomas  Marshe.  Anno  Domini  1560.  qto.  12 
leaves.     ;       , 

At  the  b*ack  of  the  title  the  Follpwing  account  of  this 
work  is  given  in  an"  address  from 

"  Ifilliam  Baldiwin  to  Jhe  Reader.-  Great,  hath,  been  the 
donbtiamong  many,  evex  since  the  death  of  our  late  vertuous 
sover'ayne  Lorde  Kipg  Edward  the  syxt,  by  what  meane  he 
dyed,  and  what  were  the  clauses  of  his  death.  This  doubte  is 
■fully  resolved  in  this  books  penned  before  bis  corse  was  buryed, 

*  Not  inserted  in  Bromley  or  Granger. 
^    -  VOL.  .11.  H     '  &:  endeavoured 


&  endeuoured  since  by  many  meanes  to  have  had  been  printecf; 
but  such  was  the  time,  that  it  could  not  be  brought  to  passe.' 
Wherefore  now  at  length  (good  Reader)  it  is  set  furth  both  to 
take  away  all  doubt  in  this  matter,  and  to  exhort  thee  to  leave 
thy  sinnes,  andnoughty  living:  least,  that  as  they  wer  in  part 
the  vndoubted  cause  of  that  moost  godly  prynces  death,  so 
they  becum  the  destruction  of  our  vertiious  Queen  his  sister, 
and  vtter  ruyne  of  this  whole  realme.  For  as  thou  shall  per- 
ceyue  by  this  true  treati[sje,  our  innumerable  sinnes  were  the 
chiefey  yea  the  only  cause  why  God  so  scone  tooke  good  Kyng, 
Edward  from  vs :  which  surely  if  we  do  not  spedely  repent 
and  amend,  I  dare  not- declare  with  haw  grevous  and  heavy 
plages  God  him  selfe  will  purge  and  punish  them.  Wherefore 
I  earnestly  beseche  thee,  as  thae  lovest  the  Queeii,  the  realme, 
yea,  thine  owne  body  and  soule,  amend  thy  life.  God  grauat' 
this  may  perswade  thee.    Anien.     Love  and  live." 

Thk  is  one  of  the  rarest  of  Baldwin's  publications.  It 
consists  of  three  poems,  the  first  on  the  fiineral  of  the 
king  commences  witk  no  less  characters  than,  the  Al- 
jnighty  and  his  Son.  The  intercession  of  tfee  latter,  to 
preserve  the  nation  from  divine  veriffeanee  and  entire  de- 
struction from  the  prevalence  of  sin,,  obtains-  that  only* 
the  monarch  shall  be  afflicted  as  a  warning,  which,  if 
not  attended  to,  must  end  with  his  death.  The  direc- 
tions of  the  Almighty  to  his  agent  "'Crasy  Cold,"  the- 
journey  and  attack  on  the  King,  are  thus  described  :. 

"  This  sayd,  he  called  to  his  seruant  Ci^asy  coldv^ 
Whom  the  isy  king  kept  prisoner  in  his  hold 
Beneath  the  poale^  where  vndtr  he  doth  dwell 
In  grysly  darke  like  to  the  diepe  of  hell^ 
In  Eockes  and  caves  of  snow  and  clottred  yse 
That  never  thaw,  and  sayd  him,  in  this  wise: 
About  five  climates  henceward  to  the  south, 
Betwene  the  maynland  and  the  occean  mouth. 
Two  ylaHdes  lye,  skarce  distant  forty  mile. 
Whereof  the  larger,  and  more  eastward  ,yle; 
Cald  Britaine  once,  tii  time  tliat  peoples  siii 
Draue  out  them  selves  &  brought  straunge  nacions  in: 
Is  now  devided  into  porcions  tl)ree. 
And  in  the  same  tiire  sundry  peoples  be, 

,    Gf  which  tlie  b^st  and  cyuil  like  in  sight. 
But  wurst  in  deede,  the  English  nacion  hight. 
And  they  indwel  the  south  part  of  the  land. 
Fro  tiie  midst  wherof  (marke  wel,  and  vnderstand) 

A-rive. 


99 

A  liver  runneth  eastward  to  the  mayne 
Sea  arme,  that  parteth  it  and  Fraunce  in  twayne. 
About  this  riuer  mighty  bowres 
Are  cumly  buylt^  with  castels,  halleSj  and  towres. 
In  which  the  king  and  rulers  commonly 
In  wynter  time,  with  al  theyr  housholdes  lyie. 
To  one  of  these  I  wil  diou  hye  in  poste. 
To  that  I  meane  where  as  the  prince  is  moste : 
1  thought  to  byd  thee  marke  the  great  resort, 
'  But  do  not  so,  for  other  beare  a  porte 
As  great  as  he,  and  greater  otherwhile ; 
But  take  this  note,  which  will  the  not  begile, 
.  The  mournful  chere  of  many  a  suters  face 
Will  shew  the  sure  which  is  his  biding  place. 
And  when  thou  hast  his  place  and  person  found 
I  will  thou  shalt  his  helthy  body  vnsound : 
But  see  thou  hurt  him  not  vnto  the  death, 
Thou  shalt  but  stop  his  loung  pipes,  that  his  breth 
Constraynd,  may  cause  the  cough  brede  in  his  breast: 
Els  what  shall  cure  or  quel  vp  all  the  rest. 
But  in  this  feat  I  charge  the  see  thou  looks 
Thou  hanne  him  not  while  he  is  at  his  booke^ 
Or  other  kinde  of  vertuous  exercise : 
Neythet  yet  at  game  so  it  be  voyd  of  vice. 
But  if  this  -winter  time  thou  mayst  hirti  marke 
To  ride  all  day,  all  armde  about  the  parke. 
Or  els  at  dice  or  tenis  out  of  time 
To  over-watch  or  toyle  him  selfe,  for  such  a  crime 
Strike  hardily,  but  not  to  hard,  I  say. 
This  is  thy  charge,  about  it,  go  thy  way. 

Scarce  was  this  errand  throwly  to  him  tolde. 
But  forth  he  came  this  shivering  crasy  cold. 
With  ysickles  bebristled  like  a  bore, 
About  his  head  behind  and  eke  before. 
His  skin  was  hard,  al  made  of  glassy  yse, 
Ouerheard  with  hore  fro?t,  like  gray  Irishe  frise. 
His  armes  and  legges,  to  fcepe  him  warme  I  trowe, 
Wer  skaled  through  with  flakes  of  frosen  snowe. 
And  from  his  mouth  there  reekt  a  breth  so  hot. 
As  touched  nothing  that  congeled  not. 

And  when  he  had  arowsd  him  selfe  a  while, 
Andstretcht  his  ioyntes  as  stiffe  as  any  stile : 
Because  he  would  his  charge  no  longer  slacke. 
He  got  vp  on  blostring  Boreas  backe. 
And  forth  he' went :  but  his  horse  so  heaOy  trode. 
That  al  the  world  might  knowe  which  way  he  rode: 

H  2  For 


For  in  his  way  there  grew  no  inanergiene. 
That  could  in  thre  dayes  after  wel  be  sene. 
Hi's  breth  and' braying  was  so  sharpe  and  shry),  _ 
That  flud's  for  feare  hard  doddered,  stood  fiaU  stiK 
T&e  seas  did  quake  and  tremble  in  such  sort. 
That  neuer  a  ship  durst  venter  out  of  port. 
The  hbltes,  the  heathes,  the  hilles  became  al  hore,. 
The  trees  did  shrinke,  al  thinges  were  troubled  sore. 

When  this.fel  horseman  with  his  griesly  stede. 
Had  passed  Iseland  and  made  forlh  such  spede. 
That  many  Shots  bad :  fuleyle  ta  the  churle,  ^ 

That  slue  their  lambes  and  cattail  with  his  whurje. 
He  passed  Yorke,  and  came  to  London  stray  t 
And  there  alight  to  geve  his  horse  a  bayt. 
Where  ere  he  had  three  dayes  in  stable  stood. 
He  eat  so  much,  the.  poore  could  get  no  wood. 
Except  they  would  pay  after  double  price,. 
For  billet  treble  vnder  common  cise. 

But  Crasy  cold  l^rkt  al  this  while  at  court. 
To  watche  his  time  when  he  the  king  might  hourtr. 
And  when  he  saw  him  on  a  morning  sweat. 
And  call  for  driuke  to  coolehis  tennis  heat. 
He  slyly  crept,  and  hid  him  in  the  cup: 
And  when  the  King,  alas,  had  drunke  him  vp. 
Into 'his  stomaeke  downward  he  him  got. 
And  there  parceyving  all  the  inwards  hot. 
And  that  eche  part  ful  gredily  did  plucke. 
To  save  it  selfe,  all  succour  it  might  sucke, , 
He  markt  the  chill  that  went  vnto  the  lounges. 
And  throwly  myxt  his.vertue  ther  amonges: 
And  cooling  it.so  stopt  the  pipes  therwitb. 
As  to  dissolve  pure  nature  wanted  pith. 

This  doen  to  London  strait  this  fryead  he  came. 
And  there  infected  divers  with  the  same  : 
Wherof  most  part,  not  over  charely  tended. 
Recovered  well  and  throwly  are  amended. 
And  sum  whose  nature  phisicke  overprest 
Are  goen  to  God,  and  slepe  in  quyet  rest. 

Whan  crasy  cold  this  cruel  feat  had  wrought. 
He  tooke  his  steede  that  had  him  thither  brought,. 
And  furth  he  rode  to  him  that  sent  him  hither. 
And  so  forth  home,  or  els  I  wot  not  whither." 

The  preachers  having  in   vain   addressed   their  dis- 
courses to  the  people,  to  amend  their  lives,  who  made  a- 

"  commoit 


'^^  com-monlesfmg  stocke,"  of  these  prophets ;  the  same 
^U-ruling  Power  finally  dispatches  Death  to  ihe  suffering 
monarch  to  "  cleave  in  twayne  his  vert  nous  godly  hart." 
The  next  poeai  is  entitled  "  an  exhortation  to  the  re- 
pentauncc  of  sinnes,  and  amendment  of  life,  which  were 
the  cause  of  the  kinges  death,  &  wil  be  the  destruction  of 
the  Realme  if  God  be  not  the  moce  merciful!  vnto  vs." 
This  isvin  twelve  stanzas,  such  as: 

-"  ilepent.ypu  marchantes  your  straungcmarchandises. 
Of  personages,  prebends,  auowsons  ot'-benefice?. 
Of  landes,  of  leases,  of  otEce,  of  fees, 
Your  tnonging  of  vitay)es,corne,  butter,  and, cheese,: 
Your  cariyng  o'lt  good  wares,  and  bringing  such  in 
As  sarve  to  no  purpose,  savebredyng  yp  sin. 
For  this  was  the  cause  of  the  kinges  death  in  dede, 
,^nd  wil  be  his  sisters  without  better  iede." 

'*'  The  Death ^daynt  or  life  prayse  of  the  most  noble 
and  vertuous  Prince,  King  Edward  the  syxt,"  is  given  in 
the  last  piece  pf  four  stanzas,  thus  concluding  : 

"  Wo  wurth  our  sinnes,  our  sinnes,  our  sins  I  say. 
The  wreke  wherof  hath  reft  vs  such  a  loan. 
As  never  realme  the  like  recover  may, 
In  princely  giftes,  the  Pheiiix  byrd  alone. 
Oh  happy  he,  but  we  full  wo  begoen 
Whose  haynous  sins  have  slayne  the  giltles  gide, 
■  Whose  soule  the  heave",  whose  corse  this  herse  doth  hide.   , 

Finis. 
King  Edward  sickened  the  first  day  of  February,  at  White- 
hall, and  on  the  syxte  day  of  Julye  next  folowing,  died  he  at 
Greenwich,  and  was  buryed  in  Westminster  church.  Anno 
1553." 

The  subject  of  this  article  escaped  the  researches  of 
Ritson  :  it  is  rioticed  by  Herbert  in  his  account  of  Bald- 
win as  a  printer. 

J.H. 


'51  ^  Prayer  sa^d  iv,  the  kinges  Chappell  in  the  tyme  of 

,hys  graces  Sicknes,  for  the  restauracion  of  his  helth, 

commaunded  to  he  sayd  there,  hy.the  right  Honorable 

^j  3  Erie 


102 

Erie  of  Bedford,  and  mete  to  he  vsed  of  all  the  Mngei 
trew  Suhiectes.  Set  forthe  the  xix.  day  of  June. 
M.  D.  LIII. 

"  O  Allmighty,  and  moste  merciful  Lorde,  the  oady  lyfi 
and  helth,  of  all  theym  that  trust  in  thee,  whhich  workest  sal- 
tigcio"  in  thy  elect,  aswell  by  sicknes  as  other  wise,  and  ther- 
fore  bringest  theim  very  Jowe,  a  nd  y^t  restorest  to  helth  aga ine 
looke  downe  wyth  thy  pytyfall  Eies  vpon  thy  semanntEdwan 
our  Kyng,  and  vpon  this  Reahne  of  England,  professing  th 
worde  &  holy  name,  and  as  thou  didest  iHoste  fauorably  de 
liuer  King  Ezechias  fro"  extreame  sicknes,  and  prolongedst  hii 
lyfe  for  the  saluegarde  of  thy  people  the  Israelites,  &  defend 
edst  theim  and  the  citie  from  the  tyranny  of  the  Assyra's  :  s( 
we  moste  entierlye  appeale  to  thy  great  mercies,  graciously  t< 
restore  the  helth  and  stre'gth  agayne  of  thy  seru[aun]t  Ed  wan 
our  Soueraine  Lorde,  that  as  thou  haste  begonne  by  him  th( 
rooting  out  of  Errovjr,  Idolatry  &  Supersticion  and  the  plantinj 
of  trew  Religion,  trew  worshippyng  &  veritip:  so  it  may  pleasi 
thy  tnercyful  goodnesjlo'ge  to  preserue  hym  for  the  confyr 
macyo"  &  estabjishme't,  of  the  same,  and  also  for  the  saulfgard 
and  defepce  of  this  Realme,  from  al  outward  &  inward  Enemies 
for  the  glorye  of  ihy  holye  name.  Looke  not  herin  (O  Lorde 
vpon  our  desertes,  whyche  for  abusinge  thy  worde,  and  sinful 
nes,  deserue  great  punishnientes,  but  vpon  thy  plentyful  mer 
eyes,  whyche  reioyccst  to  heale  the  greatest  myseries.  Be  ni 
lesse  fauprable  (O  Lorde)  ^t  this  present,  tp  Edward  our  kyng 
restorynge  thy  trew  religion :  then  in  times  past  to  Ezecbia 
refourmyng  thy  Religio^,  Be  no  lesse  mercyfull  to  Englam 
thy  Churche  now  :  then  in  those  dayes  to  Jury  thy  Church 
than.  But  as  thy  heauely  grace  hath  ben  more  reueled  i 
these  dayes  by  the  co"myng  of  thy  deare  Son~e  our  Sauiour  an 
mayster  Chryste,  and  preachyngof  the  Gospell :  so  it  ma 
please  thy  fatherlye  loue  and  goodnes,  to  bestow  vpon  vsmor 
abundaunce  of  the  same  fauourable  grace  and  mercy,  accord 
ing  to  thy  wyl  in  this  owx  hu  ble  request.  Do  thys  O  mos 
mcrcyful  Father  for  thy  owne  names  sake,  and  for  the  merytc 
and  death  of  thy  Sonne  pur  only  medyator  and  redemer  Jest 
Christe.    Amen. 

.  "  Imprynted  at  London  in  Fletestrete  at  the  Sygne  of  th 
Rose  Garland,  by  wyllyam  Copland." 

From  a  broad  sheet,  with  metal  borders  up  the  sides 
The  capital  O  elegantly  cut,  having  a  shield  with  th 
royal  arms  of  Edward  the  Sixth  \n  the  center. 

J.  H. 
Th 


i03 


"^  The  Knave  of  Clulbs.  .[Wood-cut  of  the  Knave, 
,with  an  arrow,  having  a  ja'velin  point.]  Printed  at 
London  by  E.  A.  dwelling  on  hdmhard  hili  neere  ulde 
Fish-street.  j6j:i.;-qto.  33  leases. 

This  is  the  first  of  the  series  of  Kaaves  by  Samud 
jiktwlahds.     Itiis  dedicated 

*'  To  -Fastis,  Knave  of  Clulbs. 

"  Pvstis,  the  hunaours  of  a  knaue 
To  thee  I  dedicate; 

Which  hath  b'in  christnedkuauc  of  Clubs, 
By  gent]e-men  of.late. 
.For  thy  notorious  swaggering  life, 
"Thou  iiu'st  about  the  towne; 
And  Fleet-street  fraies,  when  prentices 
With  clubs  did  knock  thee  downe : 
Thy  tricks,  and  feates,  thou  bast  at  cards,' 
'To  cut  vpon  a  knauej 
'That  let  a  man  draw  where  he  will, 
Thy  picture  he  shall  haue. 
Thy  haunting  of  the  dicing^house, 
'To  cheate  a  liuing  there. 
The  panders  profit  out  of  whores. 
For  whome  thou'lt  fight  and  swearc. 
Thy  bould  and  brasen  fac'd  exploit 
In  want,  some  quoine  to  get, 
JVt  Bedlem  bouling-aVley  late. 
Where  citizens  did  bet: 
And  threw  their  moneyon  the  ground. 
To  which  thou  didst  incline. 
And  taking  vp  an  angell,  swore 
•£y  God  this  game  is  mine.    - 
"While  they  vpon  each  other  looke 
Not  knowing  what  to  say : 
•Clubs  calls  (come  sirha)  to  his  tnan^ 
And  goes  with  quoiae  away. 
These  and  a  thousand  villanies. 
Which  now  I  will  omit, 
Hath  got  thee  placed  Captain  heere^ 
because  thou  merrits  it, 

,-H  4  Man 


104 

March  in  the  fore  front  of  ttiy  booke. 
And  say  I  vse  thee  kinde : 
A  crew  of  madraen>  knaues  and  fooles. 
Thy  felloweSj  come  behinde. 


S.  R." 


Versifying  some  old  or  familiar  and  humorous  stories 
satirical  sketches  of  the  lower  classes  of  society,  and  ai 
occasional  epigram,  forms  the  present  medley.  A  popm 
rather  too  long  for  our  occasion,  describes  largely  th 
various  Gulls  :  their  manners,  imbecility  of  characte 
and  tricks  practised  upon  them  by  artfuli  cozeners.  A 
short  extract  will  suffice. 

"  One  wittily  describ'd  a  Gull, 
Jn  different  sorte  and  kinde. 
And  to  the  life  doth  paint  a  fop. 
For  eies  that  are  "not  blinde. 
His  first  Gull  feares  a  silken  wench. 
Her  veluet  gowne  doth  scare  him ; 
Another  weares  a  siluer  hilt. 
Yet  euery  boy  will  dare  him. 
Next  commeth  fashion's  lack-an-apes, 
A  Gull  compos'd  of  pride. 
That  hath  his-goodnes  in  good  cloathes, 
And  nothing  good  beside. 
And  lastly  he's  a  Gul  of  Guls, 
That  makes  an  outward  seeming, 
Yet  hath  not  one  poor  ounce  of  wit. 
That's  worth  wise  mens  esteeming ; 

In  another  part  one  would 

learne  besides  forsooth. 
To  make  a  deuill  rise. 
This  was  allowed  to  the  match,    ■ 
And  he  must  fall  to  charme. 
So  both  against  the  poyntcd  day, 
Themselues  for  spirits  arme. 
The  Gull  gets  on  a  surplis 
With  a  crope  vpon  his  brest. 
Like  Allen  playing  Fauslus,  * 
In  that  manner  was  he  drest. 

•  In  the  title  of  C.  Marlow's  Tragkall  History  of  the  Life  an, 
Death  of  Doctor  Ffiustus,  is  a  wood-cut,  with  sucb  a  representation 
and  the  lines  identify  the  actor,  (  ■■. 

Am 


105 

And  hauing  all  his  furqiture,  ' 

He  steps  into  the  ring, 

Saies  his  instructor,  stir  not  out, 

1  must  go  fetch  a  thing " 

This  proves  to  be  a  constable.  At  the  end  a;short  epi- 
logue, declares, 

."  The  knaue  of  Clubs  his  part  hath  platd. 

But  now  wee  want  Hart,  Diamond,  Spade. .    . . 

So  till  they  be  together  drawne. 

Pray  keepe  the  knaue  of  Glubs  in  pawne." 

A  fly  leaf,  with  wood-cut,  as  iii  the  title,  repeated. 

J.  H, 


■^  77«e  Knave  of  Harts.  Haile  Fellow,  well  met 
[Wood- cut  of  the  Knave  of  Harts  accosting  the  Knav 
of  Clubs.  1  London;  Printed  by  T.  S.  and  are  to  h 
solde  by  George  Loftus  at  his  shop  vnder  S,  Sepulcher 
Church.  1613.  qto.  24  leaves. 

The  muse  of  Rowlands  is  seldom  found  in  good  com 
pany.  Her  best  characters  are  generally  picked  up  b 
the  vvay  side  among  the  idle  and  vicious ;  sometimes  01 
benches  of  tippling  houses,  and  too  often  the  precinct 
of  Bridewell ;  or  from  the  crowd  that  usually  waited  upoi 
a  delinquent  wearing  "  Tyburne-tiffany."  Her  ortl 
interest  is  founded  upon  locality  of  description,  whicj 
may  be  presumed  a  faithful,  if  not  a  flattering  copy  of  th 
times.  An  address  from  "  the  Knave  of  Harts  to  hi 
three  Brethren  Knaues,"  is  succeeded  by  the  followin 
curious  supplication  from  the  hero  Hearts  describing  th 
Jiabiliaments  of  himself  and  colleagues. 

"  The  -Knaue  of  Harts  his  Supplication  to  Card 
Makers. 

"  We  are  abused  in  a  great  degree ; 

For,  there's  no  Knaues  so  wronged  as  are  wee . 
By  those  that  chiefely  should  be  our  part-takers  : 
And  thus  it  is  my  Maisters,  you  Card-makers, 
'      '  '  A 


All  other  -Knaues  are  at  their  owne  free-wiH, 
To  braue  it  outj  and  follow  fashion  still 
In  any  cut,  according  to  the  time. 
But  we  poor  Knanes  (I  know  not  for  what  crime) 
Are  kept  in  pie-bald  suites,  which  we  haue  worne 
Hundred  of  yearcs,  this  hardly  can  be  borne. 
The  idle-headed  French  deuis'd  vs  first, 
Who  of  all  fkshiou-mongers  is  the  worst :  ■ 

iFor  he  doth  change  farre  oftner  than  the  moone. 
Dislikes  his  morning  suite  in  th'  after-noone. 
The  English  is  his  imitating  ape. 
In  euery  toy  the  tailers-sheares  can  shape. 
Come  dropping  after,  as  the  diuell  entices, 
Aod  putteth  on  the  French-mans  cast  deuises. 
Yet  wee  (with  whom  thus  long  they  both  haue  plaid) 
Must  -weare  the  suites  in  which  we  first  were  ijiiie. 
It  is  no  maruell  euery  base  consort. 
When  he  hath  lost  his  money,  will  report 
All  Mi  of  vs,  and  giueth  these  rewards, 
A  pose  vpon  these  scuruy  lowsie  Cardes : 
How  can  we  choose  but  haue  the  itching  gift. 
Kept  in  one  kinde  ofdoaths,  and  neuer  shift? 
Or,  to  be  scuruie,  how  can  we  forbeare. 
That  neuer  yet  had  shirt  or  band  to  weare? 
How  bad  I  and  my  fellow  Dimond  goes. 
We  neuer  yet  had  garter  to  our  hose;- 
Nor  any  shooe  to  put  vpon  our  feete, 
Wibli  such  base  cloaths,  tis  e'en  a  shame  to  see't. 
My  sleeues  are  like  some  morris-dancing  fellow. 
My  stockings  ideot-like,  red,  greene  and  yealow. 
My  breeches  like  a  paire  of  lute-pins  be, 
Scarse  bnttocke-roonie,  as  euery  man  may  see. 
Like  three-penie  watch-men,  three  c^vs  doe  stafid, 
Each  with  a  rnstie  browne-bill  in  his  hand: 
And  Clubs  he  holds  an  arrow,  like  a  clowne. 
The  head-end  vpward,  and  the  feathers  downe. 
Thus  we  are  wrong'd  and  thus  we  are  agrieu'd. 
And  thus  long  time  we  haue  beene  vnrelieu'd. 
But,  Card  makers,,  of  you.  Harts  reason  craues. 
Why  we  should  be  restraih'd  aboue  all  Kflaues 
To  weare  such  patched  and  disguised  attire? 
Answere  but  this  of  kindnesse  we  require : 
Shew  vs  (I  pray)  some  reason,  how  it  haps. 
That  we  are  euer  bound  to  weare  flat-caps. 
As  though  we  had  vnto  a  cities  trade. 
Bin  premises,  and  so  were  fr^ermen  made. 


Had  we  blacke  gownes,  vpon  my  life  I  Sweare, 
Many  would  say  that  we  foure  serleants  were: 
And  that  would  bring  Card-play  in  snnall  request 
With  gallants  that  were  fearefuU  of  arrest: 
For,  melancholy  they  would  euer  be 
A  seriants  picture  in  their  hands  to  see : 
Others  that  Clubs  and  Spades  apparrell  notes 
Because  they  both  are  in  side-guarded  coates. 
Tearme  them  two  vsurers,  villanous  rich. 
To  whom  the  diuell  is  beliolden  much. 
And  loues  their  trades  of  getting  gold  so  well. 
They  shall  be  welcome  to  his  flames  in  hell. 
Others  say,  if  we  had  white  aprons  pn. 
We  would  be  like  vnto  Anon,  Anon, 
What  is  it  Gentlemen  you  please  to  drinhe? 
And  some,  because  we  haue  no  beards  doe  thinke 
We  are  foure  panders,  with  our  lowsie  lockes, 
Whose  naked  chinnes  are  shauen  with  the  pOxe : 
Diuers  opinions  there  be  other  showes, 
Eecause  we  walke  in  jerkins  and  in  hose. 
Without  an  vpper  garment,  cloake,  or  goune. 
We  must  be  tapsters.running  vp  and  downe 
With  Cannes  of  beere,  (malt  sod  in  fishes  broth) 
And  those  they  say  are  fil'd  with  nick  and  froth. 
.  Other  auouch  w'are  of  the  smoky  crew, 
A  trade  that  stipckes,  although  it  be  but  new. 
Such  fellowes  as  sit  all  the  day  in  smother. 
And  drinke,  like  diuels,  fire  to  each  other. 
Thus  are  we  plaid  vpon  by  each  base  groome. 
Nay,  let  a  paire  of  Cards  lye  in  a  roome. 
Where  any  idle  fellow  commeth  in. 
The  Knaues  hee'U  single  out  and  thus  begin. 
Here  are  foure  millers  for  their  honest  dealing. 
Or  tajlers,  for  the  gift  they  haue  in  stealing: 
Or  brokers  for  their  buying  things  are  stole : 
Or  bakers,  for  their  looking  throw  a  hole : 
Or  colliers,,  for  not  filling  of  their  sackes : 
Thus  we  are  plaid  vpon  by  sawcy  lackes. 
And  therefore  if  perswasions  may  but  winne  you, 
Good  Card-makers,  (if  there  be  any  goodnes  in  you) 
Apparrell  vs  with  more  respected  care. 
Put  vs  in  hats,  our  caps  are  worne  thread-bare. 
Let  vs  haue  standing  collers,  in  the  fashion : 
(All  are  become  a  stifFe-necke  generation) 
Rose  hat-bands,  with  the  shagged  ragged  ruffe, 
Great  pabbage-shooestrings  (pray  you  bigge  enongh) 

,  French' 


4o8 

^French  doublet,  and  the  Spanish  hose  to  b'-e^^^  ^f' 
Short  cloakcs,  like  old  Mandilions  (wee  beseech  il> 
Exchange  our  swords,  and  take  away  our  bUs 
Let  vs  haue  rapiers  (knaues  loue  fight  that  kils) 
Put  vs  in  bootes,  and  make  vs  leather  legs, 
This  Harts  most  humbly,  and  his  fellowes  begs. 
Our  author  next  describes  a  band  of  worldly  kpaves 
,io  the  number  of  sixteen,:  suph  as  the  proud,  shitting, 
lying,    whoring,    dissembhng,    hypocritical    drunken, 
swearing,  theeuing,  slothfull,    busie,    prophane,   prodi- 
^all,  ingratefuli,  couetous,  and  enuious  knave.     Of  his 
narrative  pieces  I  shall  select  one  that  has   been  closely 
-copied  by  a  modern  writer  of  some  eu>in,ence. 

"  Craft  beguiles  Suhtiltie. 

"  A  morning  draught  oqe  was  enioyn'd. 

For  to  allow  his  wife, 
Condition'd  in  hei"  widdow-hood: 

And  to  aiioide  all  strife 
Kept  couenant,  vn willing  tho: 

Foreuery  day  a  cup 
Must  beprepar'd  of  Muscadine^ 

Against  her  rising  vp, 
And  that  she  emptied  all  alone, 

(Her  husband  had  no  share,) 
Telling  him  she  great  reason  had. 

To  see  the  bottome  bare  : 
Because  there  was  a  crucifixe 

Grauen  within  the  bowle: 
And  to  behold  that  image  was 

A  comfort  to  her  soule. 
He,  hearing  this,  taketh  the  cuppe. 

And  to  a  goldsmith  goes. 
Willing  him  race  that  piciurfe  out. 

And  in  the  stead,  bestowes 
The  domge  *  of  a  diuels  face 

With  homes  most  largely  fraught, 
Conueying  it  in  place  againe,' 

To  seme  the  morning's  draught. 
His  wife  next  day  doth  take  the  same, 

■■According  to  hei*  vse : 
And  filling  out  the  wine  therein, 

Perceiuing  the  abuse, 

,  *  Sic.  Qu.  image? 

Siuile« 


I  ©9 

Smiles  to  herselfe,  then  driukes  it  ofi 

And  fils  out  againe. 
And.that  she  turneth  likewise  downe 

In  a  carowsing  vaine. 
Hold  wife  (quoth  he)  you  drinke  too  deepe,. 

Your  'lowance  you  exceed : 
You  see  no  Sauiour's  picture  now, 

And  therefore  pray  take  heed. 
I  know  it  very  well  (said  She) 

My  husband,  thinke  not  strange; 
My  cup  hath  alter'd  fashion  now,  '      ' 

And  that  dqth  nxake  me  change: 
In  place  of  Christ  F'doe  behold, 

A  diuell  Sterne  and  grim, 
Whicii  makes  me  drinke  a  double  draught 

Euen  in  despight  of  him. 
Sure  wife  (quoth  he)  I  like  not  this: 

The  picture  shall  be  mended : 
Por  if  you  spite  the  diuell  thus. 

My  purse  will  be  offended."  * 

The 

*  The  late  Rev.  Mr.  Bishop,  with  his  usual  felicity;  has  given 
to  this  "  impotent  conclusion"  a  turn  that  renders  the  dross  golH, 
by  the  following  Epigram. 

"  l^odPetis,  hie  est. 

**  No  plate  had  John  and  Joan  to  hoard. 
Plain  folk  in  humble  plight; 
One  only  tankard  crown'd  their  board  j 

,    And  that  was  fiU'd  each  night; — 
Along  whose  inner  bottom  sketched 

,In  pride  of  chubby  grace, 
Some  rude  engraver's  hand  had  etch'd 

A  baby  angel's  faca. 
John  swallow'd  first  a  moderate  sup ; 

But  Joan  was  not  like  John ; 
For  when  her  lips  once  touch'd  the  cup 

She  swill'd  till  all  was  gone. 
John  often  nrg'd  her  to  drink  fair, 

But  she  ne'er  chang'd  a  jot; 
She  lov'd  to  see  the  angel  there. 

And  therefore  drain'd  the  pot. 
When  John  found  all  remonstrance  vain, 

Another  card  he  play'd ; 
And  where  the  angel  stood  so  plain. 

He  got  a  devil  portray'd. 
Joan  saw  the  horns,  Joan  saw  the  tail, 
Yet  Joaa  as  stoutly  quafPd; 

And 


lib 

The  following  Epigrams  are  upon  tlxe  same  subject  ii 
an  article  in  our  last  volume,   p.  537. 

"  They  say,,  the  better  day,  the  better  deede : 
Sell  man  sayes  no,  who  with  the  diuell  decreed, 
Vpon  the  day  of  Christ's  natiuitie. 
In  the  King's  Chappell,  to  conamit  fellonie. 
Oh  daring  wretch,  so  spent  of  heauenly  grace. 
To  steale  at  siicL  a  time,  in  such  a  place: 
Too  true  thy  name  and  deedes  alike  haue  bin^ 
Thou  wast  a  Sell-man  of  thy  self  to  sinne." 


"  When  this  picke  pocket,  sufFer'd  vitall  losse 
Betweene  the  Court-gate  hang'd,  &  Charing  Crosse? 
One  of  his  fellowes  (for  the  diuing  trickes) 
At  th'  execution  place  a  pocket  pickes : 
One  in  the  church,  where  God  is  honour'd  chiefe. 
Another  at  the  gallowes  playes  the  thiefe. 
What  can  diaert  such  wretches-  from  their  euill. 
That  feare  not  God,  the  hang-man,  nor  the  diuell." 

The  series  of  Rowlands'  Knaves  must  have  been  three 
in  number,  which  have  all  been  noticed.  *  The  subject 
of  the  present  article  has  a  richer  flow  of  hujnpur  than 
the  others,  but  they  are  all  equally  scarce. -j- 

J.H. 


And  ever  when  she  seiz'd  her  ale. 

She  clear'd  it  at  a  draught.— 
John  star'd,  with  wonder  petrify'd; 

His  hair  stood  on  his  pate ; 
And  '  why  dost  guzzle  now,'  he  cry'd, 
-  At  this  enormous  rate  .''^- 

♦  Oh  1  John,'  she  said,  '  am  I  to  blame  f 

I  can't  in  conscience  stop  : 
For  sure  'twould  be  a  burning  shamB 

To  lea've  the  cU'vil  a  drop  /" 

Poems,  Fol.  W p.  ito. 

*  See  Vol.  I.  p.  54-8.    The  tract  there  described  was  the  thifd 
and  last  published. 

t  A  short  quotation  from  one  poem  may  prove  amusing  t» 
theatrical  critics : 

"  The  aches  that  are  In  my  backe. 
And  bid  me  still  good  morrow. 
And  shake  the  shaking  palsie  off  { 
I  would  shake  off  all  sorrow,", 

Cvm 


ui 


^  Bellvm  Erasmi.  Translated  into  Englyshe,  Lon-' 
dim.  in  aedibvs  Tlw.  Bertheleli.  An,  M.  D.  XJtXTIf. 
Cum  privilegio.  [Col,]  Thomas  Berthelet  regiitf 
impressor  excudebat,  Au.  1543.  Cum  privilegio. 
Oct.  40  leaves.  ' 

This  translation  appears  to  be  anonymotis.  The 
cruelty  of  man  in  war,  as  compared  with  animals,  may 
be  selected  in  these  times  as  not  incurious. 

"  There  are  manyeof  the  brute  beastis,  eche  in  his  kynde, 
that  agree  and  lyue  in  gentylle  facion  to  gether,  and  they  g<> 
to  geQier  in  birdes  and  fiockes,  and  eehe  helpeth  to  defends' 
other.  Nor  it  is  not  the  nature  ©f  all  wylde  beastes  to  fyghte. 
For  some  are  Irarmeles  as  doois  and  haaris.  But  they  that  are 
the  moste  fierse  of  all,  as  lyons,  wolfes,  and  tygers,  doo  not 
make  warre  amongetheym  selfe  as  we  doo.  One  doggeeatethe 
not  an  nother.  The  lyons,  though  they  be  fierce  and  cruelle, 
yet  they  fyghte  not  amonge  theymselfe.  One  dragon  is  ire 
peace  with  an  other.  And  there  is  agrement  amonge  poysons. 
But  vnto  man  there  is  no  wylde  or  cruel  bea?t  mbre  hurtfull, 
than  man. 

"  Ageyne,  when  the  brate  besstis  fyght,  they  fyght  with? 
their  owne  natiuall  armour :  we  men,  aboue  nature,  to  the 
distruction  of  men,  arme  our  self  with  armour,  inuented  by 
eraft  of  the  dyuell.  Nor  the  wylde  beastis  are  not  cruell  for 
euery  cause:  bilt  eyther  when  hunger  maketh  them  fierce,  or 
els  when  they  perccyue  them  selfe  to  be  hunted  and  pursued 
to  the  dethte  or  elles  when  they  fere  Icste  their  yonglynges' 
shuld  take  any  harme  or  be  stollen  from  them.  But  (oh  good 
Lord)  for  what  tryflynge  causes,  what  tragidies  of  warre  do  we 
styre  vp  ?  For  moste  vayne  titles,  for  chyMyshe  wrathe,  for  a 
wencbe,  ye  and  for  causes- moclie  more  scornefull  then  these,, 
we  be  inflamed  to  fyght.  More  ouer,,  wheh  the  brute  beasti» 
fyghte,  theyr  warre  is  one  for  one,  ye  and  that  is  verye  shorto. 
And  when  the  battayle  is  soorest  foughten,  j'et  is  thefe  not 
paste  one  of  two,  that  goeth  away  sore  wounded,  when  it  was 
euer  harde,  that  an  hundred  thousande  brute  beastis  were  slayit 
at  one  tyme  fyghtyng  and  tearynge  one  an  other:  whiche 
tliynge  men  do  full  oft  &  in  many  places  ?  And  besyde  this^ 
where  as  some  wylde  beastes  haue  naturall  debate  with  some 
other,  that  be  of  a  contrary  kynde:  so  agayne  there  be  some 
witk  whiche  they  louyngly  agree  in  a  sure  aroitie.    But  man 

with.. 


lis; 

with  man,  and  eche  wiih  other,  hane  araongc  them  continual! 
warr«:  nor  there  is  no  leage  sure  inough  araoge  any  men. 
So  that  what  so  euer  il  b^  that  hath  gone  out  of  kynde,  it  hath 
goneoutofkynde  into  a  worse  facjon;  then  though  nature 
her  self  had  inge~dred  therin  a  raalyce  at  th?  begynnynge. 

"  Wyll  ye  se  howe  beastJy,  howe  fowle,  and  howe  vriworthy 
a  thvn4  warre  is  for  man  ?  Dyd  ye  neuer  beholde  a  lyon  let 
loose  vnto  a  beare?  What  gapynges,  what  rorynges,  what 
grisely  gnesshynge,  what  teprynge  of  theyr  fleashe  js  there? 
He  trembleth  that  beholdeth  theym,  yea  though  he  stande 
sure  and  safe  inough  from  them.  But  howe  moche  moi^ 
srisely  a  sighte  is  it,'  howe  moche  more  outragious  and  cruel, 
to  behoUle  man,  to  fyght  with  man,  arrayed  with  so  moche 
armour,  and  with  so  many  weapons?  I  beseche  you,  who 
Ai'olde  beleue  that  they  were  men,  &  it  were  not  bycause  warre 
'is  a  thvng  so  moche  in  custorae,  that  no  man  meruayleth  at  it  ? 
Theyr  eies  glow  |yke  fyre,  theyr  faces  be  paale,  theyr  march- 
ynge  forth  is  lyke  men  in  a  furie,  theyr  voyce  skrytsbynge^afid 
gruntynge,  theyr  crye  and  clamour  woode,  all  is.  iron,-  theyr 
harnes  and  weapons  gynglen  and.clutteren,  &  the  gounnes. 
thondren.  It  myght  haue  ben  better  suffred,  if  man  for  lacke 
of  meate  and  drynke,  shuld  haue  fought  with  man,  to  the  in- 
tent he  myght  deuour  his  fleshe  and  drynke  his  bloudde.  All 
be  it  it  is  come  also  nowe  to  that  passe,  that,  somme  there  be, 
that  do  it  more  of-  hatrede,  then  either  for  hunger  or  for 
thyrste.  But  now  this  same  thynge  is  done  more  cruelly, 
with  weapons  enuenomed  and  with  diuilyshe  inginsj  so  that 
no  where  can  be  perceyued  any  token  of  man." 
The  life  of  a  soldier  is  thus;descanled  on  : 

"  What  is  he  that  can  reken  all  the  incpmmodious  lyfe  that 
the  mooste  folyshe  sowdiours  sufFern  in  the  felde  ?  And  for  that 
worthy  to  endure  worse,  in  that  they  woll  suffer  it  wyllyngely. 
Theyr  meat  is  so  yll,  that  an  oxe  of  Cypres  wolde  be  loth  ts. 
eate  hit:  they  haue  but  lyttell  slepe,  nor  yet  that  at  theyr 
owne  pleasure.  Theyr  tentes  on  euery  syde  are  open  on  the 
wynde.  What  a  tent?  no,  no,  they  muste  all  the  daye  longe 
be  it  hptteor  colde,  wete  or  drye,  stande  in  the  open  ayre,. 
slepe  on  the  bare  grounde,  stande  in  theyr  harneis.  They 
muste  suffre  hunger,  thruste,  colde,  hete,  duste,  shoures,  they 
muste  be  obedient  to  theyr  capitaynes,  sometymes  they  be  clapt 
on  the  pate  with  a  warder  or  a  truncheon,  so  that  there  is  no 
bondage  so  vyle  as  the  bondage  of  sodiours." 

*  # 

^    The 


1   The  Triigicdll  tin-  '. 

t'orye  of  Rorrieus  arid  TuUet,  writ- 
ten first  in  Italian  liy  ^'anddl,  ,  , 
dnd  ftowe  in  En-Aislie-hi 
,.    .        Ar   Br.     ..       t 
In^iedihis  RichafdiTaitelli.    . 
:Chim  Priuilegio.      .,\ 
-  {Col. 3    \  Imprinted  at  Lbndon  in 
Flete   sirete  within   Tetrcble  barre,  'at 
the.signe  of  the  hand  and  slarre.hy 
■Rkhiira'ToeHll'thexix  day  of 
'Nouember.   -An,  do.  156a.* 

fUk  'la*tfe  Mr.  Capefl  'fjofeW^^d  iWo  r.6preB  idF  ifhis  fare 
''^(sdm,  6'rie  p'iHn*tcy  136-2,  k'tva'the  (Hhir  'ist';.-)-  The  fli^ 
W^  ^ipptiieh  (o'be  [jerfect  (eVCe'pt  Hvafein^  tiile)  wlifc^ 
Mr.  Mal6n>e  tra'n^dri'bVd,  ab6Ve  i  fbo  lines,  in  U  v/ry 
short  period  of  time,  aitd,tddihg't'Ke'iit?e  of  l/r'87,'fititl  it 
"reprinted  entire"  in  his  vala^bie  Suppteirieni  to  John- 
son a'ftd  Sfeevens's  'Shk'ksfSeaYejJ  in  17^  .  Fr6m  that 
•sbtiree  it  hiafe  since  btefl  repea!tdd  fn  the  tdilvonsdf  1785'- 

"9°-23-^^°3-  

The  records  of  the  translator,  Arthur  Broke,  ai%  Very 
slight.  By  an  epitaph  on  hitri,  pointed  out  \>y  J^r.  ]\ila- 
lone,  among  the  poems  of  Turbervile  §  and  s6me  lines 
by  '■  The.  Broke  the  y0unger,"  (probably  his  brottier) 
it  appears  that  he  was  shipwrecked,  and  lost  his  life  in  a 
voyage  to  Nevvhaven,   late  in  the  year  156^1  or  early  iti 

Of  the  poem  Wafton  -gives  the  follow'trfg  entry  fj-otn 
the  Stationers' Register  in 'I  s6'2,  "  RieceVyd  df  Mr  ToV 
tlfefortiis  license  tor  pryritihge  of  the  tr%i'cf!i!n  fiWlOT^  ik 

,   *  In  fours,  extends  to  fo.  84,  'besides  iTpur  leaves  01  infroll'tic- 
tioh.     Title  and  Cotoplion  given  W //»?«/«!(«, 

-j-  See  No.  191,  igj,  of  Capell's  Shakesperiana,  1775. 

+  VoJ.  I.  p.  276.  About  twelve  icopies  were  taken  off  with  new 
paging  for  private  dTstribution. 

§  See  ehalmeft's  eflition  iaf  English  Poets,  VdJ.  'H.  p.  E51. 

II  Herl&rt'%  fypO^pfi^  Anti^tiitiis,  ^iij. 

VOL.   II.  I  th)^ 


the  Romeus  and  Juliett  with  Sonnettfts."*  Again  entered 
Feb.  i8,  1582  to  same  printer,  and  Aug.  5,  15965  as  a 
tiewe  ballet,,  for  Edward  White. f 

Mr.  Malone  was  of  opinion  the  poem  had  been  taken 
from  the  French  of  Boisteau,  rather  than  the  Italian  of 
BandeoU;  J  by  the  restoration  of  the  above  title,  it  will 
be  seen  the,  translator  refers  only  to  the  Italian  author. 
However,  the  words  in  the  title  "  written  first  in  Italian 
by  Bandell,"  do  not  even  imply  it  was  translated  from 
that  language,  and  it  may  be  rioticed  in  support  of  the 
opinion  of  the  critic,  that  another  work  by  Broke,  printed 
at  nearly  the  same  time,  is  set  forth  as  "translated  out  of 
French."  §  The  reference  to  Bandell"  might  be  for  the 
purpose  of  directing  the  attention  of  the  resder  to  the 
original  source. 

The'present  copy  was  obtained  from  the  collection  of 
the  Rev.  H.  White,  of  the  Close,  Lichfield,  and  a  ma- 
terial and  valuable  addition  to  the  jepriiit,  which  appears 
to  have  been  omitted  in.  the  edition  of  1587,  is  now  re- 
covered in  the  following  address  : 

"  To  the  Reader.  The  God  of  all  glorye  created  vniuersaHye 
all  creatures,  to  sette  forth  his  prayse,  both  those  wiiiche  we 
esteme  profitable  in  vse  and  pleasure,  and  also  those,  whiche 
■we  accompte  noysome,  and  lothsome.  But  principallyj  he 
Iiath  appointed  man,  the  chiefcst  instrument  of  his  honour, 
not  onely,  for  ministryng  matter  thereof  in  nian  himselfe  :  but 
aswell  in  gatheryng  out  of  other,  the  occasions  of  publishing 
Gods  goodnes,  wisdome,&  power.  And  in  like  sort,  eueryc 
doo>  ng  of  man  hath  hy  Goddes  dyspensacion  some  thynge, 
whereby  God  may,  and  ought  to  be  honored."  So  the  good 
doynges  of  the  good,  &  the  euill  actes  of  the  wicked,  the  happy 
successe  of  the  blessed,  and  the  wofuU  procedinges  of  the 
miserable,  doe  in  di'uers-sorte  sound  one  prayse  of  God.  And 
as  eche  flqwer,  yeldeth  hony  to  the  bee,  so  euery  exaomple 
ministreth  good  lessons  to  the  well  disposed  mynde.  The  glo- 
rious triumphe  of  the  continent  man  vpon  the  lustes  of  wanton 
fleshe,  incourageth  men  to  honest  restrayot  of  wyld  affections,, 
the  shamefiiU  and  wretched  endes  of  such,  as  haue  yelded  theii" 
libertie  thrall  to  fowle  desiriss,  teache  men  to  withholde  them 

•  These  Sonnets  are  probably' the  ititroductory  lines  "  to  the 
reader,"  and  *'  the  Argument." 
t  Warton's  Hist,  of  English  Poetry,  Vol.  III.  p.  471,  note  f. 
X  Shakspeare's  Plays,  ,£<^.  iSoj,  Vol.  XX.  p.  3. 
§  Herbert,  915.  ' 

•    '  V  selues    , 


J 15 

selues  fVom  the  hedlong  fall  of  loose  dishonestie.  So,  to  lyke 
effect,  by  sundry  meanes,  tbe  good  mans  exaumple  byddeth 
men  to  be  good,  and  the  euill  mans  raischefe,  warneth  men 
not  to  be  euyll.  To  this  good  ende,  serne  all  ill  endes,  of  yll 
begynnynges.  And  to  this  ende  (good  Reader)  is  this  tragicall 
matter  written,  to  describe  vnio  ihee  a  coople  of  vnfortunate 
louers,  thralling  themselues  to  vnhonest  desire,  neglecting  the 
authoritie  and  aduise  of  parents  and  ircndes,  conferring  their 
principall  coutisels  with  drouken  gossyppcs,  and  superstitious 
frierr.  (the  naturally  fitte  iiistrumentes  of  vnchastitie;  attempt- 
yng  all  aduenturesof  peryll,  for  thattaynyng  of  their  wished 
lust,  vsyng  auriculer  contession  (the  kay  of  whoiedome,  and 
treasoti)  for  furtheraunce  ot  theyr  pt:rpose,  abusyng  the  hono- 
rable name  of  iawefull  mariiige,  td  cluke  the  shame  of  stolne 
contractes,  tinallye,  by  all  meanes  of  vnhonest  lyfe,  hastyno-  to 
most  vnhappye  deathe.  This  president  (gootl  Reader)  shalbe  to 
-thee,  as  the-  shines  of  Lacedemon,  oppressed  with  excesse  of 
drinke,  deformed  and  altered  from  likenes  of 'men,  both  in 
mynde,  and  vse  of  tiody,  were  to  the  free  borne  children,  50 
shewed  to  ihem  by  their  parentes,  to  thintent  to  rayse  in  them 
an  hateful!  lothyng  of  so  tilthy  beastlynes,  Hereunto  if  you 
applye  it,  ye  shall  dehuer  rny  dooing  trom  offence,  and  profit 
yourselues.  Though  1  saw  the  same  argument  lately  set  foorth 
on  stage  with  more  commendation,  then  I  can  looke  for:  (being 
there  much  better  set  forth  then  I  haue  or  can  dooe)  yet  the 
same  matter  penned  as  it  is,  may  scrue  to  lyke  good  effect,  if 
the  readers  do  brynge  with  them  lyke  good  myndes,  to  con- 
sider it,  *  which  hath  the  more  incouraged  me  to  publishe  it, 
suche  as  it  is.     Ar.  Br." 

The  poem  rhymes  in  couplets,  but  the  lines  originally 
were  divided  througho'iit;  (Otherwise  the  measure  form's 
alternate  lines  of  twelve  and  fourteen  syllables.  A  short 
specimen,  to  shew  the  manner  of  first  printing  it,  will 
suffice. 

"  There  is  beyonde  the  Alps, 

a  towne  of  auncient  fame. 
Whose  bright  renoune  yet  shineth  cleare, 
I  Verona  men  it  name. 

*  Steevens,  in  a  note  prefixed  to  the  play,  rather  prophetically, 
pbserves,  "  we  are  not  yet  at  theend  of  our  discoveries  relative 
to  the  originals  of  our  author's  dramatick  pieces:"  true:  a  play 
founded  on  the  story  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  appearing  on  the  stage 
"  with  commendation,"  anterior  to  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  is  a 
new  discovery  for  tbe  commentators. 

I  2  Bylt 


ii6 

Bylt  in  an  happy  titme, 
by  It  on  a  fertile  soyle: 
Maynteined  by  the  heauenly  fates, 

and  by  the  townish  toyle."  &C.     Fo.  1 . 
"  The  painfull  souWiour  sore 
ybet  with  wery  warre: 
The  merchant  eke  that  nedefuU  things 

doth  dred  to  fetch  from  farre: 
The  plowman  that  for  doute, 
of  feeroe  inuading  foes. 
Rather  to  sit  in  ydle  ease 

then  sowe  his  tilt  hath  ebusse : 
Rei'Oyce  to  heare  proclayiiid 
the  tydjnges  of  the  peace : 
Not  pleasurd  with  the  sound  so  much  : 
but  when  tl.e  warres  do  cease. 
Then  cea-sed  are  the  harmes 

which  cruell  warre  bringes  foorth. 
The  merchant  then  may  boldly  fetch, 
his  wares  of  precious  woortb. 
Dredelesse  the  husband  man 
"°'  doth  till  his  fertile  feeld : 
For  welth  her  mate,  not  for  her  seife, 

is  peace  so  preciduslield. 
So  louers  Hue  in  care, 

in  dread,  and  in  vnrest: 
And  dedly  iwarre  fey  striuing  thoughts 
they  kepe  within  their  brest. 
But  wedlocke  is  the  peace 

wherby  is  freedorae  wonne. 
To  do  a  thousand  pleasant  thinges 

that  should  not  els  be  doniie."    Fo.  23. 

J.H. 


•[l  Sir  Francis  Drake  his  honomhh  Life's  commen- 
dation; and  his  tragicall  Deatke's  lamentation. 
Newly  printed,  with  additions,  at  OScford,  by  Jos. 
Barnes.  1596.  i2mo. 

By  Charles  Fitzgeffrey,  a  poet  and  divine,  *  this  little 
volume  was  inscribed  "  to  the  beauteous  and  vertuous 

Lady, 

•  Vir^e  Athen.  Oxon.  r.  606,  *nd  Censura  Lrtefaria,  VI.  134. 
Wood  has  erroneously  considered  Fitzgeffry  as  the  compiler  of  a 

,  poetical 


117 

Ladyk  Elizabeth^  late  wife  unto  thehighlie  renowned  Si,tt 
Francis  Drake,  ^deceased,"  in  a  pleasing  sennet.  L'oni- 
mendatory  verses  were  prefixetl  by  Richard  and.Francis 
Rous,  Tho.  Myx;helborne,  &e.  with  several!  citations 
from  Latin  poems  in  praise  of  the  hero  commemorated. 
The  preface  is  dated  from  ''"Bfoad'e-gatts,  Nov.  17, 
15.^6  j"  and  contains  the  following  passages: 

"■  1  deprecate  the  note  of  improvident',  if  not  impudent  au-- 
dAcitie,  in  tliat  I,  whanever  slept'  in  Parnaesuiy  with'  Hesind; 
neitherwith  the  Satyristever liqaorisht  my-chamfrod ■•  lipswitli 
the  pure  christaliiie- Aganippe,  should  take  on  me  (especially 
in  this  gplden  age  of  poetry)  to  biingp  owJes^  ic  Athens,  and 
swans  to  Thames,  whose  Cjstslian  baiikes  are  embordered 
with  rnore  Muses  then  Helicon,  more  admirable  conceited 
poets  than  the  flourishing  age  of  Augustus  r  and  if  J  needes 
must  be  dbing,  that  I"  shbfild'  thus  auditiously  adventure-  af 
first  on  thisioftie  subject  of  that  e\'i-rhif;hly,  but  ue\'er  suf- 
ficiently, honored  and,  admired  Sir  F.  Drake;,  and,  would  not 
rather  begin  with '3'gaat;  as  Virgil  did;  or  with  some  amo- 
rous prekidiate  preambles,  as  Eunius  did;,  as  the- falcon  f 
doth 

First  flagge  awhile  her  fiuttring.  wings  benPi*b, 
Till  sheher,  selfe  for  stronger  flight  can  b»L<auis. 

"  I  write,  not  voluntarily,  but  fatally.  Neither  did  I  seeke 
occasion,  but' occasion  sought'me:  and-enfOrccd'ra'e'to  adven- 
ture on  a  matter,, so  far  beyond  my  feeble  capacitie:  ecce  tacent 
(jvines,  Ncevole  die  aliqiiid.  Well  could  I' wish'  (if  in  so  wish- 
ing I  did  well)  that  this  larum-bell  of  death  and  destruction 
had  not  so  .suddenlie  and- sorrowfullie  sound'edi  Btu  now, 
seeing  necessitie  urgeth  so  extreamlie,  r(mindftill'  of  the  La- 
cedemonian who,  whenhe-hadibetrothed  a^wifeof  small  sta- 

poetical  "  collection  of  chflice  ftOwers  and  descriptions,"  printed- 
in  16&0,  which  is  assigned  by.  Mr.  Warton,to  Robert  Allot. 
Hist.  E.  P.  iii.  i8o.  Commendatory  verses  by  Fitzgeflfry  occur  be- 
fore-Storer's  Life  ofWolsey,  1599,  and  Davies's  Microcosmos, 
*  i.  e.  Channel'd — see  Minsheu. 

t  Wood-says,  that  Fitzgeffry,  by  those  of  his  time,  was  called 
"  the  high-towering  falcon."  He  was  so,  by  Meres,  in  his  Palla- 
dis,Tamia,,  1596,  alludir.g,:to.thi3  poem,,  which  he  characters  as 
"  most  gloriously  penned."  See  also  Browne's  Brit.  P.istorals, 
II,  14.6,  edit,  1771- 

1  ?,  ture, 


ii8 

ture,  saide  merilie-'-' of  evills  the  least  is  to  be  chosen') 

thought  it  best — 

When  better  choices  were  not  to  be  had. 
Offeree  to  chuse  the  seeming  best  of  bad, 

"  Farther^  I  admonish,  or  rather  entreate  thee,  not  prejudi- 
<5afely  to  subscribe  to  the  censure  of  the  captious  Zoilist:  of 
■whomlmay  truely  sajri/iof  a  rountry-man  of  ours  untruely  said 
of  that  revered ■  ErUsmns—^Quantutn  gloria  detraxerit  aliis, 
tunium  ad  se  accessissa  putat.  He  saith,  it  wanteth  metliodj 
and  therefore  is  not  compendious:  it  is  obscure,  and  therefore 
tedious:  full  of  fixipns,  and  therefore  ridicu'.ous: 

With  such  poore  crimes  as  shew  his  spite  is  sounde. 
And  yet  bewray  his  matter  wanteth  ground." 

The  poem  itself  is  not  without  merit,  but  the  author's 
dedicatory  sonnet  to  the  widowed  Lady  Drake,  *  will, 
perhaps,  as  a  short  extract,  be  most  acceptably  interesting. 

"  Divorc'd  by  Death,  but  wedded  still  by  Love, 

For  Love  by  Death  can  never  be  divorc'd  j 
Loe!  England's  dragon,  thy  true  turtle-dove. 

To  seeke  his  make  f  is  now  againe  enforc'd. 
Like  as  the  sparrow,  from  the  castrel's  %  ire, 

Made  his  asylum  in  the  wise  man's  fist: 
So",  he  and  J,  his  tongues-man,  do  require 

Thy  sanctuary,  envie  to  resist. 
So  may  heroique  Drake,  whose  worth  gave  wiiigs 

Unto  ray  Muse,  that  nere  before  could  fly. 
And  tauglit  her  tune  these  harsh  discordant  strings 

A  note  above  her  rurall  rainstrejsy, 
Jjive  in  himselfe,  and  I  ifi  him  may  live. 
Thine  eyes  to  both  vitality  shall  give." 

DavieS  of  Hereford  has  an  epigram  addressed  to  Charles 
Fitzgeffrey,  in  his  Scourge  of  Folly:  so  has  Dunbar  in 
bis  Epigrammata,  and  Hayman  in  his  QuodlihetSy 
Chattiberlaine,  in  his  Nocturnes  Lucuhrationes,  has  au 
epitaph  upon  him, 

T.P. 

*  This  lady  was  daughter  and  sole  heiress  of  Sir  George  Syden- 
ham of  Combe  Sydenham,  in  the  county  of  Devon,  Knight.  She 
^fterwards  married  Wm.  Courtenay,  Esq,  of  Powderham- Castle, 
m  thft  same  county. 

f  ■  i.  e.  Mat§,  I  Or  kestrel,  a  hawk. 


119 


^  Caroli  FUzgeofridi  AffaniiP:  sive  Epigrammatvm: 
libri  tres:     Ejvsdem  Cenotaphia. 

Turpe  est  dtfficiles  habere  nugas, 
Et  stultus  labor  est  ineptiarum. 

Oxoniig.   Excudebat  Josephvsi-  Barnesivs.  ifioi.  Svo. 

I 

This  collection  of  Epigram?,  by  the  same  writer, 
modestly  termed  Trifles,  is  inscribed  to  Edward  Michel- 
borne,  whom  Wood  characterizes  in  his  Fasti  Oxonien- 
ses,  as  the  "  most  noted  Latin  poet  in  the  university." 
Most  of  Fitzgeffrey's  encomiastic  tributes  were  addressed 
to  persons  eminent  as  poets,  scholars,  statists,  or  divines, 
and  among  others,  the  following  deserve  to  be  particula- 
rized. 

Lib.  i. 


Ad  Thomain  Overberium 
Ad  Thomam  Campianunj 


Ad  GuJ.  Perciunij  unum  nobi- 
lem 

Lib.  ii. 

Ad  Franciscutn  Meresiutn 
Ad  Thomam  Storerum 
Ad  Gulielmum  Vanghaonum 
A  Georgio  Chapmanno.     De 

Eodem. 
Ad  Joannem  Marstoniutn 
Ad  Georgium  Spryseura 
Ad  RicardiimMorum.  theolog. 
Ad  Joannem  Bancroftum 


De  Philippo  Sydnaso 
In  Arcadiatn  ipsius 
Ad  Edmundum  Spenserum 
Ad  Samuelem  Dauielum 
Ad  Michaelem  Draytonium 
Ad  Joannem  Hallum,  Cantab 
Ad  Franciscum  Rousaeam 
Ad  Benjaminum  Jonsonium 
Ad  Joshuam  Sylvesterum 

Lib.  iii. 

Ad  Mariara  Pembrochias  Co-     De  Francisco  Dracb'o 

mitissam 
Ad  Carolum  Blountam  Mont- 

joiae  Dominum 
De  eodem  ad  Cranmerum 
Ad  Tobiam  Mathaeum,  Du- 

nelm.  Episc. 
Ad  Thomani  Bilsonum,  Prae- 

sul.  Winton. 
Ad  vir.  doct.  Joannem  Renal- 

dum 
Ad  Gul.  Thornum,  Heb.  Ling. 

?rof. 

I 


Ad  Joannem  Harringtoniiim 
Ad  C.  V.  Ti^omam  Bodlaeum, 

nov.  Bibl.  Oxon. 
In    Britanniani   D.  V.   Gul. 

Cambdeni 
Ad  vir.  doct.  Theodorum  Be- 

zam 
Josephum  Scali- 

gerum 

■ —  Janum  Dowzam 
Ad  Joannem  Sprintam. 

4  The 


This, gentleman  was  of  Christ-Cburch,  and  prefixed  Verses* 
ofj'BRetic  a)fri.t  tg.  "Morer's,  Life.  aj(d.  Dpajb,  of,  Cardinal 
Wolsey "  in  ] SQQ.     Sona^  apc(DUnt.  of  huxi,^  is,  give^  by,  W.99d, 
Ath.  Ox.  1.477. 
The  Cenotaphia  of  Fitzgeffrey  comm  wqrate. 

Fa  ^u^selh  ]Bedfo,rdia„C<3n»t  JpannJ.Enxo.  thepl.  Sf.raa^tyr. 

Fi:.  Walsinghamo,  Eq.  Laurar.tio  Uinphredo 

PbjJjpM  Sy,dn^o^Fq.  A)e\.  Kitzgepfrjdo,  the9:^.  (the 
Eic   GrajivillOjEq,.  poem's  fatherj 

Joanni.  Norrisii    '  Gul.  Whiiakero 

Xhom  Egertonio,  Eq.  Ed(nondo  Spencero 

Joanni  JopHo,  Sarisb.  Fpisc,  Hicardo  Tarl'tonb 

B»dvardo  Deeringo/  thei  'log.  Thomae  N^sho. 

Kroi?i,the,.  ep,igratiiraaUq,co!raplinients  I  inseft  tli^fql- 
Jowlng  to  Spenser  and  Daniel,  and  with  it  a  printed  veX'^ 
sion. 

"  Speoserum  slquisnostrum  velit  esse  Maronetn, 

Tu  Daniele  mihi  Naso  Britannus  eris: 
Sin  illunn  potiiis  Phoebuip  vplijt  esse  Britannum, 

Turn  Daniele.  mihi,  tu  Marc  noster  eris. 
Nil  Phoebo.ulterius  :  si,  quid  feret,  illud  haberet, 

Spensprus,  Phoebus  tu  Daniele  feres. 
Qtiippe  loqui  PhoEbus.cuperet  si  more  Britannp, 

'Hand  scio  quo  ppfer^t,  ni  velit  ore  tuo," 

"  If  Spenser.merils. noble  Virgil's  name^ 
Daniel  at  least. comes  in  for  Ovid.'s  fame: 
If   penser  rather  claims  Apollols  wit, 
Virgil's  illustrious  name.will  Daniel  fit, 

*  One  stanza  from.these.1  aip  indiaced.to  subjoin,: 

"  G-rfat  patrons  giv,^,  us.leave  their  brass  to  gild, 
And  from  deserved  gj;ave,dea^,n8fg,fs,to, raise, 
Crowji^ng  Minerva,.f9r  Ker  spear  and  shi«jd| 

'VVitli  golden  wreath,  her  book  with  only, bays  j 
Because  they  tYank  t^i  fitter  fpr'the  field, 

And  men  of  learhin?  well  repaid  with  praisf : 
They  give  the  spur  of  praise,  but  add  the  rein 
And  curb  of  want,  to  check  them  back- again." 

This  recalls  to  mind  .the  ,e¥quisite,.strain,oJ[^jltpn^ 

"  Faqp.e.is  the  spur,  that,the.clear  spirit  doth  raise 
T-o.scorn,delight5,  and  liveJabpripijsdays," 

No 


No  higher  than  -A^joljfl  \Yfl  can  go : — 
'  But  if  a  loftier,  title  yQa,(V')p.shQ«'> 
That  grfiafef  name  let  Speiis^r^s, R^us^  conjrnf^, 
Apcj.l^apkl.b^p  the  Phodiiis  of  our  lafld: 
For,  in  myjiid^inent,  if  thf.  god  of  Vjersp, 
In  Englisj),  v^qulcl  herqif  c^exls.rehqatsc. 
No  lanauaM.  so,expres&iv,e  he  cquld  qhtis.e 
As  that  of  EJpdibh. Daniel's  .lofty.  Muse;." 

Mr.  Headlay^  in  bis  "  Salect,  fteaiHties;"  gf^  oiir  early 
poets,  has  remarked,  that  Daniel  was  spok,en.of  by  con- 
temporary critics,  as  '•' the- pqlisHer  and  purifier  of  the 
English  language."  In,  I}>a.visflii-'SjIs<}e;ti'Qal\R?p§Q$^  he 
was  termed  the 'fRrince  of. EngJisJT.poets.!-  IJrowneaCalls 
him  "  well-languag'd  Daniel;"  Drayton  lauds,  his 
**  well-trick'd  riiii€9j'°'and^Sylvest€r  dteuied  him  "for 
pure  acceiUa.chiefj"  %  Pi 


^  Certain  Elegie.$^dmfit  %, sufidrie,  excellent  •  Wits,  Sa- 
tyr.icall  Epigiraanj,  in  iwfi  .IpoJies.:  ivith,  Uie,.thirde 
hooke  of  I  Humours ;  iiititided^  Noies.  from.  Miai:ke- 
Fryers.  ibio.  lamo. 

The  Elegies  are  four  in  number,  three  of  which-bear  the 
signatures  of  Fr.  Beau[niQnlJ.  M,P);fayton]  and  N.  H.* 
The  epigratps  and  satires  \ve,re  wrjtteq.(by  Hejiry,  spn  of 
the  C/iar^es  Fitzgeffre)',  who  publts^ied-A^ffsniffi,:  &£•  as 
the  following prenx.ed  verses  testify;  '^ 

"Of  his  dearS'.freindilw-  Author,  Hi  F. 

"  Of  what  is  hegff;.tbQU,'^t  notihave;  apy  \fltrite 
PrayseSj  that  willing  would,  and  justly  might  j 
Permit  me  then,     ttir  I|e  praise,  what  Isee 
Deiicient  heere  ftby  name  Pitz-JeotFirv) 
Where  English  i^^i/^:  aright  and.,1  ha'  done. 
So  rightly  art  thon  called  Jeofferyes'  sonne : 
Tlien  adde  time,  age,  but  to  thy  industry. 
In  thee  againe  wilMive.  old  Jeoflery. 

Natk.  Gublyn." 

For  specimens  of  the  "  Epigrams,"  the  fojiowrng 
may  be  given  as  m.ost  favourable. 

*  Perhaps  Nathaniel  HookfS. 

"  In 


"  In  Thrasonem. 

"  Since  Thraso  met  one  stontly  in  the  field. 
He  Cracks  his  spirit,  knows  not  how  to  yield, 
Xooks  big,  swears,  struts  with  side-set  arms  the  streets. 
Yet  gently  yeelds  the  wall  to  all  he  meets  : 
And  to  his  friend,  that  asks  the  reasoii  why. 
His  answer's  this : — 'myself  I  grace  thereby  ; 
'  For  every  one  the  common  proverb  knows, 
'  That,  always  to  the  wall  the  weakest  goes." 

"  Of  Debt. 

"  To  be  indebted  is  a  shame,  men  say; 
Then  'tis  confessing  of  a  shame-— to  pai/." 

"  Of  Duke  and  the  Debt. 

"  Duke's  not  in  debt :  ye  do  him  wrong  to  say  it; 
The  debt  is  (God  knows  whose) — his  that  will  pay  it," 

"  More-dew's  payment. 

"  More-dew  the  mercer,  with  a  kind  salute. 
Would  needs  intreat  my  custom  for  a  siite  : 
'  Here. sir,  (quoth  he    forsattins,  velvets  call; 
'  What  ere  you  please  :  I'll  take  your  word  for  all.' 
I  thank't  and  took  it — gave  my  word: — say  than. 
Am  I  at  all  indebted  to  this  man  ?" 

"  In  Cornutum. 

"  One  told  his  wife,  a  hart's  head  he  had  boiTght, 
To  hang  his  hat  upon;  and  home  it  brought : 
To  whom  his  frugal  wife,—'  what  needs  this  care  ? 
'  I  hope,  sweet  heart,  your  head  your  hat  can  bear." 

"  In  Lesbiam  ingratam, 

"  Why  should  I  love  thee  ?  I  no  reason  see. 
Then  out  of  reason,  Lesbia,  1  love  thee." 

"  Sir  Hugh's  mistake, 

"  In  marriage  woman  promise  makes 
To  serve  her  husband  a,l  her  life; 
Hence  comes  it,  that  Sir  Hugh  mistakes. 

Who  uses  servants  as  his  wife : 
Atid  further  yet  the  sense  doth  wrest^ 
Loving  her  most  that  serves  him  best." 

"  0 


123 

«  Of  Wine. 

*'  Physiciansj  wine  at  sprivg-ume,  poison  cdl  j 
I  hold— it  never  hurteih  but  i'  Ih'  fall." 

"  In  Philippum. 
•"  Call  Philip,  flat  nose: — straight  he  frets  thereat. 
And  yet  this  Philip  hath  a  hose — that's j2aC 

*'  Of  Sim  and  kis  speedy  marriage. 

"  Six  months  (quoth  Sim)  a  suitor,  and  not  sped! 
*  I,  in  a  sen 'night  did  both  woo  and  bed:' 
Who  green  fruit  loves  must  take  long'pains  to  shake: 
Thine  was  some  down-fall,  I  dave  undertake." 

This  reminds  us  of  Sir  W.  Yonge's  Answer  lo  Lady 
M.  W.  Montagu's  love-verses: 

"  The  fruit  that  will  fall  without  shaking. 
Indeed  is  too  mellow  for  me." 

The  following  sarcastic  allusion  to  several  well-knowa 
facts  and  publications  of  that  period,  occurs  in  the  **  Sa- 
tj'res." 

"  How  many  volumes  lie  neglected,  thrust 
In  every  bench-hole^  every  heap  of  dust. 
Which  from  some  Cowrie's  *  practise,  powder  plot. 
Or  Tiburn  lectures,  all  their  substance  got. 
Yet  toss  our  time-stalls,,  you'll  admire  the  rout 
Of  careless,  fearless  pamphlets,  fly  about: 
Books  made  of  ballades,  workes  of  plays ; 
Sights,  to  be  read  of  my  Lord-Mayor's  days ; , 
Posts  lately  set  forth,  bearing  (their  back  at) 
Letters  of  all  sortsj  an  intolerable  packet. 
Villains'  discovery,  by  lanthorn  and  candle  light. 
(Strange  1  if  the  author  did  not  see  to  handle  right) 
A  Quest  Of  Inquirie, — Jackea  Dover's;  ■\- 
The  Jests  of  Scoggin  ; — and  divers  others, 
Which  no  man  better  [than]  the  stationer  knows  : 
Wonderful  writers! — poets  [all]  in  prose  !"  Sat.  i. 

The  Posle  ivith  a  packet  of  Letters,  is  ascribed  to 
Breton ;  English  Villanies,  and  a  New  Cryer  of  Lan- 

*  The  Gowry-conspiracy  and  Gunpowder-Plot  produced  seve- 
ral time -serving  publications. 

•f-  "Jacke  of  Dover'  bis  quest  of  Inquirie,  or  his  privy  search  after  the 
fvmeit  fmliH  &ll EiigUmd,  jSiiblisUed  in  iS04.. 

thorn 


1.24 

thorn  and  Candle  light-,  to>Deoker.  One  extract  more 
may  not  pipvo  unamuain^:  being;  trotb  egoUsiic  and- 
sarcastic. 

"  I  am  no  poet : — yet-Ldpeinot  k-now 
Why  i  &howld,not,  or  why  I,  should, be  so. 
I  can   I  mu?t  cpniesse,  ametre  scan. 
And  judge  of  verses  as  another  man. 
I  have  be^i  trayr>'d>up'moHgstthe  Muses;: — morej 
The  sacred,  nome  of  I?hoRbu?  I  adore  ! 
Yet  I  no  poet  am,  IJde-have  ye  know ; 
I,. an?  no  ppet,  as, the  world  goes  now. 
My  Muse  cannot  a  note  so  poorjy  frame, 
As  invocate  ajpi-nny-patron's  name. 
I'cannot  speake  andunspeake  as  I  list. 
Exchange  a  sound  friend  for  a  broken  jest; 
Confcrre  witli  fountains. or, coi»versewith>  trees. 
Adroit  in  my  discourse^byperbeilyfiSi 
J,capnot.h>ig),i!y,praise  thpserhi^est  are, 
Because  tbej  sit  in  hopour's  lofty  chayre^ 
Nor  make  their  states  in  sonnets  happy  knowtie. 
Being,  perchance,  less  happy  then  mine  owne. 
r  cannot  saymy  raistris  sh«e  isifaire. 
Tell  of  her  lilly  hand,  her  golden  haire. 
Fetch  a  compauson  beyond  the  tmoone, 
To  prove  bei  constant  in  affection: 
I  dare  not  her 'so, much  as  lovcJy  call. 
Or  say  I  havei-a  mistrisoatall. 
Wh}'?— ere. to-morrow  she  will  changed>be. 
And  leave  me  lauaht  at  for  mv  poetry." 

T.P. 


^  A  Counter  cvffe  given  ta  Mtrlin  lunior:  byjheven- 
turous,  hardie  &  renownid-  Pmquill  of  England, 
Cavalie.ro.  Not-  of-  otde  Martin's  making,  which 
jieu'lie  kiiighled  the  saints  in  heaven,  w}tk'  Rise  up 
Sir  P  titer  isS  Sir  Paule,  *  lutdately-dnhd^Jot  his<s(r- 

*  Thus,  in  Martin's  Month's  Mind,  1 589.  «  He  makes  a  mock 
of.  the  saints  ■of  God,  yea,  the.  moth«^r, of  Christ,  with  ivis  si\igle- 
sold  Sirs  j"  and  again,  "  In  a  scurne-against  the  saii>cts  of  Gpd,, 
the  scriptjire  of  God,  and  God  hinnseife,  I  called  mine  owne 
itiatfs  sainctes,  and  his  sainctes  Sirs,  wherein  I' spayed  neither 
David,  nor  Beter,  nor  Paule" 

Vice 


vice  at  -Jto'me  in  tkedefenoe  iff  his  countrey,  ^for  the 
^leame  (btfeaicing  of  'hiis  slqff'e  uppon- Martin's  face. 
prtTited  tb^tiueev-  the  skye  &f  the  gmunde,  tvit/iin  a 
fnyie  df  cm  'Oake,  W  nnt  many  fields  df  f^om  the  un- 
piivi'iedged  pres'se  of  the  ass-igne's  of  ■MaYii'n 'lunior. 
Anno  Doin.  'i'S"'9-  4^"- 

This  and  the  two  following  articles  have  been  gene- 
rally ascri'befl  to  Thomas  JSlash,  the  satirist ;  principally, 
I  believe,  upon  the  amhorily  of  Collier  and.  Wood.* 

Though  'the  lltk  seems  to  imply  «ome  former  service, 
yet,  after  much  inquiry,  1  can  -find no  Teason  to  presu'mie 
ihat^anyiyrecediing;  pamphlet  uprm  this  subject  had  issncU 
from  the  pen  of  Nash.  This  surmise  is  nearly  strength- 
ened to  a  conclusion  by  a  passage  in  the  tract  it^f; 
■where,  having  promised  a  voluminous  satire  upon  the 
Martinists,  to  be  entitled  Tke  Lives  of  the  S'ainis., 
hie  says  ''  Pasqui-H  [i.  e.  Nash,^  is  nowe  gen^e  over  sea 
to  cornmit  it  to  the  presse,  a-n-d  it  is  his  pleasure  fbeca/u-se 
it  is  the  first  opening  of  his  -shop;)  to  give  you  a  taste  ^ 
feis  wares,  before  you  buy  them,  like  a  franck  mer- 
chant." This  he  accordingly  does  in  his  Ctmnien- 
cuffe,  whi^h  contains  some  very  smflrt  strokes  of  siw- 
casm  upon  Martin  and  Martinisilj. 

Ab  for  the  "  fraitfiall  volume  of  the  lives  of  tbe  Saints," 
the  following  extract  will  give  an  i<lea  of  its  projected 
eontetits. 

"  TteVesliall  you  read  of  tfeat  reverend  dder  e>f  your  [Mar- 
tin's] chiirch,  who  being  crf,dited  with  the  sltic'ke  of  tdit  poore, 
pe5-taiiiini;  to  tbte  BrMfcwell  house  ef  CaHterfeurie  to  settfe  men. 
a  workj  was  compelled  to  keepe  it  to  himselfe,  becaiise  no 
poore  folkes  of  the  houshold  of  faith  could  be  found  in  thfat 
citlie.  There  shall  you  see  the  life  and  learning  of  a  pastor  of 
your  church,  which  expoiinding  the  articles  of  our  beliefe  in 
Devonshire,  when  he  came  to  haodlfe  the  descending  iflto  hfcU, 
viTbte  a  Latine  letter  to  a  neighbour  minister  ef  ijis  te  eraVe 
his  advicS,  atid  rapt  it  out  iUstilie,  ii  tu  AoH  vis  -vie»iri  tnihi, 
ego  volo  venire  tibi:  atid  so,  by  the  leakes  that  reniaine  iii  his 
Latine,  made  riiore  worke  for  the  tinker  than  tv&r  your  father 

*  Eccles.  Hist.  ii.  606,  and  Athen.  Oxon.  i.  260.  Cojlier 
mentions  this  under  the  erroneous  name  of  the  Counter  Scuiite. 

roiadfc 


126 

made  for  the  cooper.  I  will  leape  over  one  of  your  brother 
preachers  in  Northamptonshire,  which  is  as  g<3od  a  hound  for 
ills  sent  to  smell  a  feast,  as  ever  man  sawe.  Pasquill  met  him 
betweene  Bifield  and  Fawsely,  with  a  little  haite  like  a  sawcer 
nppon  his  crowne,  a  filch-man  in  his  har.de,  a  swapping  ale 
dagger  at  his  back,  containirig  by  estimation  some  two  or  three 
pounds  of yron  in  the  hyltes  and  chape;  and  a  bandogge  by 
ills  side,  to  coramaund  fortie  foote  of  grounde,  wheresoever  he 
goes,  that  never  a  begger  come  neere  him  to  crave  an  almes. 
Ohow  my  palfrey  fetcht  nie  up  to  curvetto,  and  daunced  the 
goates  jumpe,  when  I  ranne  the  ring  round  about  him  to  re- 
trieve him :  it  should  seeme  by  the  manages  my  beast  made, 
that  lie  knewe  his  maister  had  a  speciall  peece  of  service  in 
hande.  You  shall  have  a  goodly  bande  of  these  men  in  the 
¥olumes  of  the  Saints." 

Notwithstanding  the  assertion  that  "  Pasquill  is  gone 
over  sea  tu  commit  this  work  to  the  presse,"  I  believe  I 
need  hardly  say,  that  all  research  after  such  volumes  may 
prove  ineffectual.  The  same  is  to  be  apprehended  of 
another  work,  promised  in  like  manner,  viz.  "  The 
Owle's  Almanack ;  *  wherein  the  night  labours  and 
byrthe  of  your  religion  is  sette  downe;  the  ascent  and  de- 
scent of  the  starres  that  favour  it,  as  truelie  calculated: 
the  aspects  ot  the  planets  reigning  over  it  are  expressed 
with  a  jollie  conjecture  drawn  from  the  judgment  of  the 
Theame,  what  end  your  religion  is  like  to  have,"  &c. 

The  reception  which  this  Countercuffe  experienced, 
would  appear  to  have  been  as  favourable  as  the  author's 
most  sanguine  hopes  could  have  led  him  to  expect:  "  It 
requireth  a  summer's  day  and  a  winter's  night  to  tell  you 
ail.     It  was  verie  welcome  to  the  court,   ihankfullie  re- 

*  In  the  year  ifiiS,  a  burlesque  tract  was  put  forth  with  a  simi- 
lar appelhtioii,  but  not  with  any  relation  to  the  subject  in  ques- 
tion !  as  will  appear  from  the  full  title. 

The  Owlets  Almanacke,  Prognosticating  many  strange  a'cdJentr 
luhicb  shall  happen  to  this  kingdame  of  Great  Britaine,  this y ear e  1 6 1 8 . 
Crdculated  as  ivellfor  the  meridian  mirth  of  London,  as  any  other  part 
aj-  Great  Britaine.  Found  in  an  i-vy  t>ush,i-written  in  oU  characters, 
and  noiAj published  in  English  by  the  painefull  labours  of  Mr.  locandary 
Mer'rie  Braines.  London,  printed  by  H.  G.  for  Laurence  Lisle,  and 
are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop  in  Pauks-Church-Yard,  at  the  Tim-' s  bead. 
i6i8.  ^.to  ■^ 

A  copy  of  this  tract  occurs  in  Bibl.  F.irra.  No.  360^  which  was 
soiii  tor  il.  7s. 

jceived 


1^7 

ceived  in  both  universities ;  the  citties  of  the  lafidVave 
him^ood  speeches;  as  for  the  country,  after  the  plainest 
manner,  with  hart  and  good  will  they  were  ready  to  greete 
him  with  a  cake  and  a  cuppe  of  ale  in  every  parishe."* 

Talents  like  Nash's,  thus  elicited,  were  not  likely  to 
remain  long  inactive;  elated  with  success  he  prophesied 
that  "Signior  Pasquiil  of  England  wyll  proove  the  man 
that  must  set  a  gagge  in  the  mouth  of  Martin  the  great, 
and  cut  up  an  anatomle  of  all  his  knayerie."  f  Of  his 
subsequent  progress  in  this  cause  some  account  is  given 


in  the  following  article 


J.  J.  P. 


II  Martin' s^montk' s  minde;  that  is,  a  certaine  report 
bf  true  description  of  the  death,  fs"  funeralls,  of  olde . 
Martin  Marre- Prelate,  the  great  make-bate  of  Eng~ 
land  &  father  of  the  factious.  Cordayning  the 
cause  of  his  death,  the  manner  of  his  liuriall,  &/  the 
right  copies  loth  of  his  ivill  &  of  such  epitaphs,  as 
by  sundrie  his  dearest  friends  &  otfier  his  well 
wis  tiers  were  framed  j  or  him. 

Martin :  the  ape,  the  dronke,  ^  the  madde, 
The  three  Martins  are,  whose  works  we  have  had ; 
If  Martin  the  fourth  comes,  after  Martitis  so  eVill, 
Nor. man  nor  beast  comes,  but  Martin  the  devili', 

1589.  %to. 

Mr.  George  Chalmers  who  has,  not  very  accurately, 
quoted  from  this  "  scarce  pamphlet,"  to  shew  the 
"number  of  the  playhouses,  and  the  price  of  admission 
to  therti,"  says,  "  this  whimsical  writer  is  supposed  to 
have  been  Thom.  Nash."  J'  That  it  was  written  bv  the 
same  person  as  the  Countercuffe,  appears  from  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  that  tract.  "  You  shall  shortlie  have 
a  glosse  and  a  commentarie  uppon  your  epilogue,  with 

*  Pasquiil  and  Marforius,  1589,  4to.  -f  Idem. 

1  Suppl.  Apol.  for  the  Believers  in  the  Sbaksp.  MSS.  p.  iSfi, 

certain 


1^8 

ceft'aift 'h^res, fji^ge's.-and  r^tfnddaves, 'serving  fdrepitSpbs 
toyoA  fatterChfar'Se."  Il  i's.,'  lik'cwfse,  ^indoubtedly 
allttckd  !t6  ?fi  iltfe  Oiat<>giie  t,(  PasquiU  drOl  MmfdriMs, 
w'hich  GelferdWidedfy  ^a^rflfe-s  to  Nash.  "  Pdfq.  Foil 
hkve^lfeen'very  bt«rei  pFeifCtive ■about  Ma'rtin'^  death,  and 
though  Tie  fs  'live  y^t,  it  mav  be  y'ou  pvopHedie  of ihfs  eild. 
Yestcrivigh't,  la'e,  6ide  Mkrtin's  Proeesfation  in  rfcfal^b 
was  brought  itn'to  rnee;  '1  see  -by  the  votume,  Wt  taii- 
giiishvvh  everyday  tiTore  and  riiore,  the  pride  of  his  flesh 
Ts  So  much  falrfe  t'liat  you  fiiay  tell  every  bone  in  hys 
body  now." — Indeed  from  internal  eVidencfe,  as  well  ^s 
many  coflateral  coincidences  which  might  be  adduced,  I 
think,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Nash  was  conside- 
ralsty  "if  nO-t  wTiolTy  Concerned  to  iTiis 'pei'fdi^ma.'ftce. 

A  passage  in  the  burlesque  epistle  from  "  Marphoreua. 
to 'PA'^qttitlfe  of  England,"  alKtding 'to  thfe  Counterdiiffh, 
plainlV  indieaWs  I'heconfi'ne'cfion  between  the  t*v'0  works. 

"  l<"r(end  Pa'sqni'ne,  rrtost  'harty  coa'mendations.  For  I  ■can- 
not butfebr^,  teVtelie  comniend  rae  'lo  you,  and  conrmend  jrou 
shh.  The  Ciiffe  you  fefe'life  -gfi'vfe  to  'fertih  'th'e  'yonker,  in 
sfeed  of  bis-gloVe  Was  So  sftiaWHe  '^-dti,  "a'nd  SSte  so  clbSe  to 
his  fare,  4s  1  'miiiit  n'eedes'praisfe  b6th  yoftr  Cotrrage  and  cuflning 
in  cuffing.  And  for  that  fercrtlj  he  iffftd  *bis  igood  brotheiri  shall 
not  want  cuffea  to  keep  themselves  warm  withall  this  Winter, 
I  have  given 'thi'Si  l!)dt!Tn6vV  6ne'ctjffe'i:nor6.;  ^!i%}ch-,  {tlbeft  in 
trat'h'  it  feefe  mt  H  ■Cvhiri'et,  yet  shift  I  'cfHi^iifg  my  fltft  ^b  fi^  as 
I  can  'to  ^ive  •th'erti  -odie  ipaite  Of 'CB#ei  'tathik,  '^bat  'ShaA  'bgfe  so 
souudKfe  uet  on  4s  i  doufe't  n'Ot  shaW  'reiake  th'etti  staggiiir." 

Further  on  this  "  paire  of  cuffes"  is  again  brought 
forth,  in  the  form  of  two  intended  pasquinades,  to  'be  en- 
titled "  The  suing  of  Martin  his  liverie^"  and  "  Mar- 
ch's .'mod'els ;''  n'eil'her  of  Miic^i  ire  kn6Vn  to  e'klst. 
M^riibweus  like\\ise  tkh'ArtS  Pasquine  'to  rerhetVibe'r  'his 
pmnii.ic  of  the  Omle's  MlihdhaA;  "W  especial'ly  'f'as- 
<ii'iin'e  itYneriiber  your  Legend  in  anie  wist :  the  Livfes  of 
Suc-h  SainctS  rhnst  needes"be  a  singular  iJeece  6f  wbrL 
and  e'dilif  rnuch."" 

Aftfev  this  dedication  follows  an  epistle  tO  'tt'ie  discVee't 
ant!  inditivrcnt  rcad.jr,  iii  which   we  have  a'c'uribus  Ac- 
count of  "  the  foure  formes  of  old  Martin's  school;  the 
substance  and  end  of  h5i  lessons;,  an^  the  drift  both  of' 
thfe  ni as tci- aM  sch oilers." 

the 


12,^ 

'  The  GOHtents  Gf  the  work  itself  are  as  follows,  "  Sun-* 
drie  reports  of  Martin's  death — ^The  true  manner  of  old 
Martin's  death — His  oration  at  his  death  to  his  two 
sonnes — Three  causes  of  Martin's  death — His  Will — 
Buriall — Legacies,  &c." — Then  follows  "The  truecopie 
of  such  epitaphs  as  were  m^de  by  old  Martin's  favorites; 
and  others  by  him ;"  with  the  signatures  of  Grex  Marti^ 
nistrarum,  Pen]|rie],  Pri[chard],  Cliflfe  the  godlie  cobler. 
Dame  Law[sons],  Newtnan  the  cobler,  R.  M. — R..C  — 
p.  K.— N.N.— R.  L.— R.R.— W.  T.— T.  L.— S.  I.— &c, 
The  book  closes  with  a  concluding  word  "  to  thfe  two 
young  Martins."  * 

J.J.  P. 


"I  The  returne  of  the  renowned  cavaliero  Pasquill  of 
England,  from  the  other  side  the  seas,  and  his  meet" 
ing  with  Marforius  at  London  upon  the  Royall  Ex- 
thange.  Where  they  encounter  with  a  little. houshold 
talke  cf  Martin  &  Martinisme,  discovering  the 
sbahbe  that  is  Iredde  in  England :  and  conferring  to- 
gether about  the  speedie  dispersing  of  the  golden 
legend  of  the  Saints. 

Jfmy  breath  be  so  hote  thai  I  burne  my  mouth,  suppose 
I  was  printed  by  Pepper  Mlie.  Jinno  Dom.  1589. 
4to.  t 

This  slender  tract  may  be  considered  as  a  continuation 
of  the  Coujitercuff^e,   already  described,   in  which  the 

*  In  the  course  of  the  dedication  to  Martin's  Month's  Minde, 
the  writer  observes,  "  no  maruell  that  they  haue  been  ''.a  firie 
heretofore  that  haue  chosen  a  saltpeterman  for  their  foreman,  and 
a  gunnepowder  house  for  their  printing  shop:"  against  which, 
in  an  old  hand,  I  met  with  the  followin|;  marginal  note.  "  This 
he  ni[ea]neth  by  Mr.  Ho[sk]ins  the  printer  [to]  whom  they 
ga[ue]  the  Spainis[h]  Strippadoo."  Such  part  of  the  note  as  ap- 
pears to  have  fallen  a  sacrifice  to -the  usual  inattention  of  the 
binder,  I  have" attempted  to  supply  in  brackets.    J.  H. 

t  The  running  title  is  "  Pasquill  and  Marfolius,"  by  which 
name  it  is  usually  referred  to.  The  same  personages  were  intro- 
duced at  the  beginning  of  the  last  century  in  "  A  Dialogue  be- 
tween Marphorio  and  Pasquin,  concerning  the  succession  of 
Spaiii,  and  tjie  present  state  of  Europe.  1701." -416.  Osborne's 
■Harl.  Catal.  Vol.  V.  No.  44.49. 

TOL.  II.  K  "Lives 


13® 

"  Lives  of  the  SaifttS,"  were  first  pTOmiseds  now,  say8 
Pasquill,  *'  I  tarry  but  one  packet  of  information  from 
Essex  side,  and  that  worke  shall  come  out  of  the  presse, 
like  a  bride  from  her  chamber,  spangled  and  trapt  w.th  a 
full  caparizon  of  the  ornaments  of  this  present  age." — 
Sometime  after  this  there  is  an  assurance  of  auothef 
squib  against  the  Martinists ;  tlie  descriptidn  of  which 
is  curious  enough. 

"  Howe  whorishlie  scriptures,  are  alleaged  by  them  I  will 
discover  (by  God's  help'e)  in  another  new  worke  which  I  have 
in  hatide,  and  intituled  ic  The  May-game  of  Martinisme,  verie 
defflie  set  out  with  pompes,  pagents,  motions,  maskes,  scutch- 
ions,  emblems,  impreases,  strange  trickes,  and  devises,  be- 
tweene  tlie  ape  and  the  owie  ;  the  like  was  never  yet  seene  in 
Paris  garden.  Penry  the  Welchman  is  the  foregallant  of  the 
morrice,  with  the  treble  belles,  shot  through  the  wit  with  a 
•wood  cocks  bill ;  I  woulde  not  for  the  fayrest  horn  beast  in  all 
his  countrey,  that  the  church  of  England  were  a  cup  of  Meth- 
legin,  and  came  in  his  way  when  he  is  over  heated;  every 
bishoprick  woulde  proove  but  a  draught,  when  the  mazer  is  at 
his  nose.  Martin  bimselfe  is  the  mayd  marian,  trimlie  drest 
uppe  in  a  cast  gowne  and  a  kercher  of  Dame  Lawsons,  his 
face  handsomlie  muffled  with  a  diaper  napkin  to  cover  his 
beard  and  a  great  nosegay  in  his  hande  of  the  prineipalpst 
flowers  I  could  gather  from  all  his  works.  Wiggenton  daunces 
rounde  about  him  in  a  cotten  coale,  to  court  him  with  a 
leatherne  pudding  and  a  woodden  ladle.  Paget  marshalleth 
the  way  with  a  couple  of  great  clubbes,  one  in  his  foot,  another 
in  his  head,  and  he  cryes  to  the  people  with  a  loud  voice,  '  Be- 
ware of  the  man  whom  God  hath  markt.'  I  cannot  yet  find 
any  so  fitte  to  come  lagging  behind  with  a  budget  on  his  necke 
to  gather  the  devotions  of  the  lookers  on,  as  the  stocke  keeper 
of  the  Bridewel  house  of  Canterburie:  he  must  carrie  the 
purse,, to  defray  their  charges,  and  then  hee  may  be  sure  to 
serve  himselfe." 

Towards  the  close  of  the  dialogue  Marforius  demands 
of  Pasqnill  "  some  direction  for  the  privie  dispersing"  of 
the  works  that  he  had  taken  in  hand,  "  when  they  came 
out."  ,  Pasquill  replies,  "  I  would  haue  thee  principally 
to  drop  some  of  them  downe  at  Penrie  the  Welchman's 
haunts.  Mar.  Where  is  that?  Pas.  Tut,  I  perceive  you 
know  nothing.  At  the  signe  of  the  silver  forke  and  the 
SOS  led  -cheese,  where  the  painter   to  bewray  both   his 

abuse 


abuse  of  scripture,  an<l  his  malice  against  the.  church, 
hath  clrawne  him  his  worde  with  a  text-pen  ;  Zclus 
domus  tuas  comedit  me."  At  parting,  Pasquill  enjoins 
Marforius  to  affix  the  following  bill  to  London-Stone; 
*'  Let  it  be  done  sollemnly  with  drom  and  trumpet,  and 
iooke  you  advance  my  collours  on  the  lop  of  the  steeple* 
right  over  against  it,  that  every  on?  of  my  souldiers  may 
keepe  his  quarter. 

"  PasqvUVs  Protestation  uppon  London  Stone. 

"I  Cavaliro  Pasquill,  the  writer  of  this  simple  hand,  a 
young  man  of  the  age  of  some  few  hundred  yeeres,  lately 
knighted  in  England  with  a  beetle  and  a  bucking  tub,  to  beat 
a  little  reason  about  Martin's  head  doe  make  this  my  protesta^ 
tion  unto  the  World,  that  if  any  man,  woman,  or  child,  have 
any  thing  to  say  against  Martin  the  great,  or  any  of  his  abet- 
tors of  what  state  or  calling  soever  they  be,  noble  or  ignoble, 
from  the  very  court-gates  to  the  cobler's  stall  if  it  please  them 
these  dark  winter  nights,  to  sticke  uppe  their  papers  uppon 
London  stone,  I  will  there  give  my  attendence  to  receive  thern, 
from  the  day  of  the  date  heereof,  to  the  full  terme  and  revolu- 
tion of  seven  j-eeres  next  ensuing.  Dated  20.  Octobris.  A.nno 
Millimo,  Quillimo,  Trillimo.  Per  me  venturous  Pasquill  the 
Cavaliero." 

The  work  is  closed  with  an  epistle  from  "  Cavaliero 
Pasquill  of  England,  to  Martin  the  great,  wishing  more 
wit  and  learning  and  a  better  minde." 

J.  J.  P. 


^  E'nglands  view,  in  the  vnmasking  of  two  para~ 
doxes:  with  a  replication  vnto  the  answer  ofMaister 
John  Sodime.  By  Gerrard  de  Malynes,  Merchant. 
Qppositia  iuxta  se  posita,  magis  apparent.  [Vau- 
trollier's  device  of  the  Anchor.]  London,  printed  hy 
Richard  Field.  1603.  Eights,  pp.  197,  without  Intro- 
diaetion. 

•  St.  Swi'thin's  Church, 'Cannon-street.  Till  toward  the  middle 
of  the  last  century  London-stone  stood  near  the  channel  facing 
Ae  south  wall  of  the  cbwrdh,  in  a  cell  under  which  it  is  now 
^iteed. 

K%  The 


133 

The  Epistle  Dedicatory  is  addressed  "  to  the  Right  Honour- 
able Sir  Thorhas  Sackuill;^  Baron  of  Bucfchiirst,  Loi'd  Higfi 
Treasurer'  of  England,"  &c.  &c.  and  states  the  two  paradoX.es, 
"  hauing  bene  presented  vnto  the  French  King,  as  a  me^ne  to 
qualifie  the  general!  complaints  of  the  dearth  of  things  in 
France,  by  prouing  that  nothing  was  growne  dearer  in  three 
hundred  yeares ;  were  answered  by  the  famous  M.  John 
Bodine. ..."  who  "  hath  mistaken  the  true  ground  of  the 
matter,  by  comparing  the  prices  of  things  within  themselues  in 
a  common-wealth,  whereas  the  comparison  must  be  betweene 
the  home  commodities  of  one  common-wealth,  and  the  for-: 
raine  commodities  of  other  nations:  and  that,  either  by  way  of 
permutation  of  commodities  for  commodities,  or  by  commodi- 
ties for  money  in  specie,  or  by  exchange."  Dated  at  "Lon- 
don this. 16  of  lanuarie,  l603."  ■ 

"  The  two  paradoxes  of  Maister  Malestroit,  one  of  the 
Officers  of  the  French  King's  Exchequer,"  are  first  "  to  com-i 
plaine  of  the  generall  dearth  of  al  things  in  Fratinceis  without 
cause,  seeing  that  there  is  nothing  growne  dearer  these  three 
hundred  yeares."  Second,  "  there  is  much  to  be  lost  vpon  a 
Growne,  or  any  other  mony  of  gold  and  siluer,  albeit  one  do 
giue  the  same  in  payment  at  the  price  he  did  receiue  the 
same.'"  In  the  financial  discussion  of  the  premises,  Malestroit 
supports  his  proposition  upon  the  principle  that  in  point  of 
fact  there  was  not  more  paid  in  coin  Upon  any  purchase  thaii 
had  been  paid  three  hundred  years  preceding.  "  To  proue 
this  he  doth  alledge,  that  during  the  raigne  of  King  Philip  de 
Valois,  in  the  yere  1328,  the  French  crowne  of  the  flower-de- 
Juce,  as  good  in  waight  and  finenesse,  as  the  French  crowne  of. 
the  Sunne  now,  was  then  worth  but  twentie  sols  tournois  j 
which  (for  the  better  vnderstanding)  being  valued  according  to 
the  common  computation  of  fen  sols  for  a  shilling  starling,  is 
two  shillings.  In  those  dayes  (saith  he)  the  French  elle  or 
yard  of  veluet  was  woorth  four  liuers,  which  is  foure  crowns  or 
8  shillings  starling :  the  said  yard  of  veluet  doth  now  cost  tep 
liuers,  or  twentie  shillings,  and  the  French- crowne,  which  was 
then  valued  at  two  shillings,  is  now  valued  at  fiftie  sols  or  fine 
shillings.  So  that  foure  crownes  do  make  the  said  20  shil- 
lings }  yet  the  said  French  crownes  do  containe  no  more  in 
gold,  in  weight,  or  in  finenesse  then  before :  wherby  there  is 
no  more  gold  giuen  in  substance  then  heretofore,  and  conse- 
quently the  veluet  is  not  now  dearer  than  it  was  then."  Boaine 
m  i;eply  "  proueth  that  veluets  were  yet  vnknowne  in  France 
.during  the  raign  of  Philip  surnamed  theFairej  and  that  al- 
though he  should  admit  the  example  of  veluets,  yet  it  were  no 
consequence  for  all  other  things,  which  were  not  so  deare  propor- 
tionabJy, '    He  attributes  the  change  to  the  abundance  of  gold 

and 


r33 

■and  sUuer  extant  in  France;  monopolies;  want  of  things 
caused  by  excessive  trade ;  pleasure  of  Princes ;  and  alteration 
■  in  the  value  of  money.  Malynes  puts  it  on  the  principle  stated 
in  the  dedication  as  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  eighth,  when 
"  the  angel  was  woorih  vnder  the  Archduke  of  Burgundie,  9 
shillings  7  pence;  the  king  did  send  vnto  the  Duchesse  (whiles 
her  husband  was  in  Germany)  desiring  lier  to  value  the  angel! 
at  to  shillings  Flemish,  but  he  could  not  obtaine  the  same. 
Which  seemeth  very  strange,  considering  that  the  aduancing 
•of  the  price  of  money,  doth  cause  the  money  to  be  transported 
to  the  places  where  it  is  aduaunced;  whereby  all  the  angels 
might  haue  bin  caried  into  her  dominion.  But  she  like  a  wise 
and  politicke  Duchesse,  caused  the  matter  to  be  examined  and 
considered  of,'  sending  men  skilfull  in  mint  causes  into 
England;  and  finding  that  the  golden  fleece,  alias Toison  d'or, 
was  the  money  then  most  currant  with  her,  and  that  the  same 
was  wortli  both  in  regard  of  waight  &  finenesse,  as  much  as  the 
angel,  &  was  also  valued  at  9  shillings  7  pence;  she  could 
not  graunt  the  kings  request  without  altering  also  her 
money,  vnlesse  she  would  haue  suffered  the  English  merchants 
to  bring  angels  vnto  her  for  10  shillings,  and  to  carie  away  the 
.  golden  fleeces  for  g  shillings  7  pence  to  be  conuerted  into 
.angels,  to  the  great  losse  of  her  dominions,  both  in  the  money, 
and  to  leaue  the  commodities  of  her  country  vnuented;  so 
.  long  as  there  were  a  gaine  vpon  the  mony,  which  abated  the 
price  of  commodities." 

Malynes  takes  a  concise  view  of  the  state  of  the  public  reve- 
nue during  the  reigns  of  several  English  raonarchs,  and  argues 
in  favor  of  his  own  principle,  contra  the  French  writers,  at 
some  length  and  with  much  ingenuity.  Upon  discussing  the 
value  of  gold  and  silver,  he  particularly  censures  Sir  Thomas 
Moore.  "  Why  should  I  enter  into  the  enumeration  of  ex- 
amples, to  illustrate  and  proue  the  antiquitle  of  the  estima- 
tion of  gold,  siluer,  ar.d  precious  things:  seeing  that  in  all 
coramonweales  and  countries,  that  onely  is  decent  and  of  esti- 
mation, which  the  custome  doth  allow  and  approoue.  Hence 
.the  prouerbe  tooke  beginning  countries  fashion,  countries 
honour:  which  maketh  the  Indian  and  blackemoore  to  domi- 
niere  with  his  glistering  beades,  brasse  rings  for  their  eares  and 
armes,  and  to  giue  vs  gold  and  siluer  for  them.  Straunge  was 
therefore  the  imagination  of  Sir  Thomas  Moore  in  his  con- 
ceipted  commonwealth  of  Vtopia:  where  he  fained  gold  to  be 
in  such  contumelie,  that  they  made  their  chamber  pots,  and 
jother  vessels  that  serue  for  most  vile  vses,  of  pure  gold,  and 
'hau.e  the  same  in  euery  mans  priuate  house.  And  their  chaines, 
fetters  and  gyues  wherein  they  tye  tlieir  bondmen,  were  all  vk 
gold,.  3s  being  the  reprochfuU  fiadge  of  infamous  persons. 

K  3  Their 


154 

Their  gemmes  and  precious  stones  were  holxieitt  for  toj'es  for 
yoog  children  to  play  withall.     And  to  proue  tlie  estiination  Qf 
things  to  be  accotiding  to  the  fashion  of  euery  conntrie^  and  to 
giue  gold  his  due  commendation,  we  will  v'se  his  owne  pleasant 
tale,  in  manner  as,  he  hath  set  dowtie  the  same.     The  ambasj- 
sadours  of  the  next  countrie  vnto  Vtopia,  [the  passage  is  too 
well  known  to  need  repetition.     It  is  copied  to  where  ohe  am- 
ba«sadours]  for  very  shame  laid  away  ali  that  gorgeous  array 
whereof  they  were  so  proud.     Which  in  effect  is  as  much  as 
to  accomodaite  and  fashion  himselfe  to  the  manner  and  feshion 
of  the  countrie,  being  also  grounded  vpon  estimation  although 
of  baser  things :  which  is  to  preferre  earthen  and.  glasse  ves- 
sels, wherein  thsy  eate  and  drinke  (as  he  saith)  before  gold, 
isiluer,  &  other  precious  tjiings.    But  if  all  the  wit  and  wisdome 
of  man  were  as  yet  to  deuise,  what  thing  would  be  fittest  to  set 
a  price  vnto  all  other  things,  and  to  be  as  a  iust  measure  and 
proportion  betweene  man.  and  man  in  the  trade  and  traffick  of 
things,  they  could  not  find  any  thing  more  proper  then  pure 
gold,  and  oihsr  mettals  accordingly.  The  foure  elements  baue 
.  such  an  equall  proportion  in  gold,  that  none  is  predonrinant 
ouer  the  other;  whereby  all  corruption  is  excluded,  whether 
you  take  the  same  according  to  the  qualities  of  bote  and  drie, 
cold  and  drie,  bote  and  moist,  and  cold  and  moist  with,  Galen.: 
or  according  to  the  substance  of  the  elements  drawne  into  salt, 
sulphure,  and  mercurie  with  Paracelsus.    For  it  neuer  wasteth 
or  consumeth  by  fire,  arid  the  more  it  is  burned,  the  purer  it 
is ;  which  cannot  be  said  of  any  other  mettall :  there  is  no 
rust  or  scurfe  that  diminisheth  the  goodnesse  or  substance 
thereof:  it  abides  the  fretting  and  liquors- of  salt  and  vinegar 
wifhout  damagCj  which  weareth  any  other  thing  :  it  needs  no 
fire  ere  it  be  made  gold,  for  it  is  g«ld  as  soone  as  it  is  found  : 
it  draweth  without  wooll,  as  it  were  wooll :'  and  it  is  easily 
spread  in  leaues  of  maruellous  thinnessse :  you  may  adorne  ox 
guild  any  other  mettall  with  it.     Neither  is  it  inferiour  vnto 
any  other  mettall  to  make  vessell  and  curious  workes:  it  de- 
fileth  not  the  thing  it  toucheth  as  siluer  doth,  wherewith  you 
may  draw  lines :  it  resembleth  in  colour  the  celestiall  bodies, 
and  it  is  medicinable  and  bringetb  gladnesse  to  the  hart  of 
man:  it  is  fit  also  to  be  cut  or  deuided  into  many  peaces  to 
make  mony,  and  goeth  into  a  little  roome,  being  easie  and 
portable  to  auoide  the  combepsome  cariage  of  conmiodkies  from 
one  countrie  into  another.     And  what  thing  can  be  in-ueoted 
or  deuised,  that  for  this  purpose,  hath  all  these  qua^Kties  and 
properties .'  With  great  reason  therefore  batA  go^id-  his  due  esti- 
mation  aboue  other  things.    Also  such  things  whereira  the  ai* 
o|  man  is  illustrated  j  as  in  pictures  &  other  cmous  works,  are 

wortlH4 


^35 

worthie  of  great  commendation,  and  to  be  preferred  befor4 
many  other  thiHgs  that  mau  doth  vse,  for  to  liue  in  the  most 
ciuille  manner  aboue  other  nations  which  liue^barbarously.  In 
"all  which  the  general!  care  of  the  prince  must  be,  and  tlie  par- 
ticular regard  of  the  subiect,  that  the  same  bee  done  for  the 
good  of  the  common  wealth:  so  that  the  expences  thereof  do 
not  surmount  the.  incomes  or  reuenues,  hauing  a  due  conside- 
ration  of  the  moderate  vse  of  forraine  commodities,  and  at 
reasonable  rates,  according  as  the  price  and  vtterance  is  of  our 
home  commodities,  both  for  victuals  and  other  wares :  with- 
out studying  how  to  liue  without  the  trafficke  and  commerce 
with  other  nations ;  seeing  that  God  caused  nature  to  bestow 
and  distribute  her  benefits,  or  his  blessings  to  seuerall  climates, 
supplying  the  barrennesse  of  some  things  in  one  countrie  with 
the  fruitfulnesse  and  store  of  other  countries,  to  the  end  that 
interchangeably  one  common  weale  should  liue  with  another." 

*  # 


^  A  Godlye  Sermon  preached  before  the  Queens  most 
excellent  Maiestie,  vpon  the  17,  1 8,  191  verses  of  the 
i6.  chapter  of  S.  Mat  hew:  VVherein  is  contained 
the  conclusion  of  a  dialogue  letweene  Christ  and  his 
Disciples.1  shewing  hreefely  that  the  authoritie  which 
the  Pope  of  Rome  doth  challenge  to  himselfe,  is  vn~ 
lawfully  vsuyped.  Fery,  v-eeessarie  for  these  perilous 
times  wherein  the  simple  may  pereeiue  their  intolle- 
rahle  impieiie,  vszirping  that  office  and  action,  which 
euer  appertayned  vnto'  Christ  only.  P.uhlished  at 
the  request  of  sundry  godly  and  well  disposed  persons. 
Imprinted  at  London  by  lohn  Windetfor  lohn  Perin, 
and  are  to  He  sol'd'  at  fns  shop  in  Fames  ckirrch-yard, 
at  the  sign  of  the.  Angel,  158^.  Sixteens,  93  leaves. 

Denying  the  siipreraffleyrof  the  church,  of  Rome  aS; 
supposed  to  be  derived  from  the  gift  of  the  keys  to  the 

apostle  St.  Peter. 

•  *  * 

*  4  The 


i36 


^  The  Bead  Man's  Song,  whose  dwelling  was  7ieer 
Basing' hall  in  London. 

The  Tune  is  Flying  Fame. 

[Wood-Cuts.] 

,  ["Bede,  fsays  Warton)  has  introduced  many  miracles 
and  visions  into  his  history.  Yet  some  of  these,  (he  con- 
tinues) are  pleasing  tq  the  imagination:  they  are  tinc- 
tured with  the  gloom  of  the  cloister,  operating  on  the 
extravagance  of  oriental  invention."  *  One  of  the  storie? 
appears  to  have  been  the  foundation  of  the  following  bal- 
lad, which  the  same  elegant  critic  describes  as  "  worthy 
of  Dr.  Percy's  excellent  collection,"  •{-] 

"  Sore  sick  dear  frienns  long  time  J  was 

and  weakly  laid  in  bed,  ^ 

And  for  five  hours  in  all  men's  sight 

?t length  J  lay  as  dead: 
The  bell  rung  outj  my  friends  came  in, 

and  J  key  cold  was  found. 
Then  was  my  carkass  brought  from  bed, 

and  laid  upon  the  ground: 
My  loving  wife  did  weep  full  sore, 

my  children  loud  did  cry. 
My  friends  did  mourn.    Yet  this  they  said 

all  flesh  is  lorn  to  die. 
My  winding-sheet  prepared  was, 

my  grave  was  also  made. 
And  for  five  hours  in  all  mens  sight, 

in  this  same  case  J  laid. 
During  which  time  my  soul  did  see, 

such  strange  and  fearful  sights. 
That  for  to  hear  th"e  same  disclos'di 

would  banish  all  delights : 

•  [History  of  English  Poetry,  Vol.  I.  Disser.  ii.  sig.  d  4,  rev. 
note  f. 


t  Vol.  ii,  p.  199,  note  g.] 


Yet 


n7 

Yet  81  th  the  Lord  restor'd  my  life, 

,     which  from  my  body  fled, 
J  will  declare  the  sights  J  saw, 
the  time  that  I  was  dead. 
Methought  upon  a  lovely  green, 

where  pleasant  flowers  sprung, 
J  took  my  way,  whereas  J  thought, 

the  Muses  sweetly  sung; 
The  grass  was  swei^t,  the  trees  was  fair, 

and  lovely  to  behold. 
And  full  of  fruit  was  every  twig, 

which  shin'd  like  glistering  gold. 
My  chearful  heart  desired  much  " 

to  taste  the  fruit  so  fair. 
But  as  j  reacht  a  fair  young-man, 

to  me  did  make  repair. 
Touch  not,  said  he,  'tis  none  of  thine, 

but  wend  and  walk  with  me. 
And  see  thou  mark  each  several  thing 

which  J  shall  shew  to  thee. 

I  wondred  greatly  at  his  words, 

yet  went  with  him  away, 

Till  oa  a.gallant  goodly  bank, 

-with  him  he  bid  me  stay: 

With  branches  then  of  lillies  white, 

mine  eyes  there  wiped  he, 
"When  this  was  done,  he  bad  me  look 

what  J  far  off  could  see. 
J  looked  up,  and  loe  at  last, 

J.  did  a  city  see. 
So  fair  a  thing  did  never  man 
behold  with  mortal  eye : 
Of  diamonds,  pearls,  and  precious  stones 

it  seems  the  walls  were  made. 
The  houses  all  with  beaten  gold, 

were  til'd  and  over-laid. 
More  brighter  then  the  morning  sun, 

the  light  thereof  did  show. 
And  every  creature  in  the  same, 
like  crowned  kings  did  go: 
The  fields  about  the  city  fair, 

were  all  with  roses  set, 
Gilliflowers  and  carnations  fair, 

whom  canker  could  not  fret.  • 
And  from  the  fields  there  did  proceed,    - 
a  s^eet.and  pleasant  smelly 

That 


138 

That  every  livina  creature  felfrj, 

the  scent  did  so  escell : 
Besides  such  sweet  and  pleasant  mirtrb, 

did  from  the  city  soiand. 
That  J  therewith  was  ravished, 

njy  joy  did  so  abound. 
With  niiusick,  mirth,  and  melody, 

princes  did  there  imbrace; 
But  in  my  heart  I  long'd  to  be 

within  that  blessed  place; 
The  more  I  gaz'd  the  more  I  might, 

the  sight  pleas'd  me  so  well. 
For  what  I  saw  in  every  thing 

my  tongue  no  way  can  tell. 
Then  of  the  man  1  did  demand 

what  place  the  same  might  be. 
Whereas  so  many  kings  did  dwele, 

in  ioy  and  melody : 
Quoth  he  that  blessed  place  is  heaven, 

where  yet  thou  canst  not  rest. 
And  those  that  do  like  princes  go, 

are  those  whom  God  hath  blest. 
Then  did  he  turn  me  round  about, 

and  on  the  other  side. 
He  bad  me  view  and  mark  as  much, 

what  things  were  to  be  spy'd : 
With  that  I  saw  a  cole-black  den 

all  tan'd  with  soot  and  smoak, 
Where  stinking  brimstone  burning  was, 

which  .made  me  like  to  uboak. 
An  ugly  creature  tliere  1  saw, 

whose  face  with,  knives  was  flasht. 
And  in  a  cauldron  of  poyson  filth 

his  ugly  corps  were  washt. 
About  his  neck  were  sundry  rufFs 

that  flam'd  on  every  side, 
I  askt).  and  loe  the  young  man  said, 

that  he  was  d^mn'd  for  pride. 
Another  sort  there  did  J  see, 

whose  towels  vipers  tore. 
And  grievously  with  gaping  mouth, 

they  did  both  yell  and  roar. 
A  spotted  person  by  each  one, 

stood  gnawing  on  their  hearts. 
And!  this  was  conscience  J  was  told, 

which  plaga'd  their  inward  jaEts. 


They 


^39 

Thfijr  were  no  sooner  out  of  sightj 

but  straight  came  in  their  place, 
A  sort  still  throwing  burning  fire, 

which  fell  against  their  face: 
And  ladles  full  of  melted  gold, 

were  poured  down  their  throats. 
And  these  were  set  it  seem'd  to  me, 

in  midst  of  burning  boats. 
The  foremost  of  the  company 

was  ^udas  I  was  told. 
Who  had  for  filthy  lucres  sake 

his  Lord  and  Master  sold ; 
For  covetousnesse  he  was  condemn'd, 

so  it  was  told  to  me. 
And  there  raethought  another  rout 

of  hell-hounds  I  did  see.  / 

Their  faces  seemed  fat  in  sight,. 

yet  all  their  bones  were  bare. 
And  dishes  full  of  crawling  toads, 

were  made  their  finest  fare  : 
From  arms,  from  hands,  from,  thighs,  and  feet, 

with  red-hot  pincers  then. 
The  flesh  was  pluckt  even  from  the  bone 

of  these  vile  gluttinous  men. 
On  cole-black  beds  another  sort, 

in  grievous  sort  did  lye. 
And  underneath  them  burning  brands, 

their  flesh  did  burn  and  fry  : 
With  brimstone  fierce  their  pillows  eke 

whereon  their  heads  were  laid, 
And  fiends  with  glowing  whips  of  fife,. 

their  lecherous  flesh  ofl^flaid. 
Then  did  J  see  another  come, 

stab'd  in  with  daggers  thick. 
And  filthy  fiends  with  fiery  darts, 

their  hearts  did  wound  and  prick : 
And  mighty  bowels*  of  corrupt  blood, 

was  brought  for  them  to  drink. 
And;  these  men  were  for  murder  pla^'dj^ 

from  which,  they  could  not  ahskiJi,  ■ 
J  saw  wheH  they  were  gone  away, 

the  swearer  and  the  lyaE, 

"  [Brnttdfis'^  ■pta  ivwU.} 

Anl 


140 

And  they  were  hung  up  bv  the  tongue, 

over  a  flaming  fire. 
Ffom  eyes,  from  ears,  from  havel,  &  nose 

and  from  their  lower  parts. 
The  blood  methought  did  gushing  run, 

and  clogged  like  mens  hearts. 
J  asked  why  that  punishment 

was  now  on  swearers  laid. 
Because,  qo  he,  wounds,  heart,  and  blood 

were  all  the  oaths  they  made: 
And  therewithal  from  ugly  hell, 

such  grievous  crys  J  heard. 
As  though  some  greater  grief  and  care 

had  vext  them  afterward. 
So  that  my  squI  was  sore  afraid, 

such  terror  on  me  fell. 
Away  then  went  this  young  man  quite, 

and  bad  me  not  farewel : 
Wherefore  unto  my  body  streight 

my  spirit  return'd  again^ 
-  And  lively  blood  did  afterwards 

stretch  forth  in  every  vein. 
My  closed  eyes  J  opened, 

and  raised  from  my  swound, 
J  wondred  much  to  see  myself, 

so  laid  upon  the  ground ;  > 

"Which  when  my  neighbors  did  bebold>    -. 

great  fear  upon  them  fell. 
To  whom  soon  after  J  did  tell, 

the  news  from  heaven  and  hell. 

Printed  for  E.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J.  "Wright,  and  J.  Clarke." 

[From  Wood's  Ballads  in  the  Ashmolean  Museum,   Oxford,. 
No.  401,  f 01.85.2 

.    P.B. 


^  A  Treatise  of  Paradise,  and  the  principall  contents 
thereof:  especially  of  the  greatnesse,  situation,  beau- 
tie,  and  other  properties  of  that  place :  of  the  trees  of 
life,  good  and  euill;  of  the  Serpent,  Cherulin,  fiery 
sword,  Man's  creation,  immortalitie,  propagation, 
stature,  age,  knowledge,  temptation, fall,  aniexclu- 

,    sion  out  of  Paradise',  and  consequently  of  his  and 

our 


141     - 

Our  originall  sin :  with  many  other  difficulties  touch* 
ing  these  points.  Collected  out  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, ancient  Fathers,  and  other,  loth  ancient  and 
moderne  writers.  London:  Printed  by  Edward 
Griffin  for  Nathaniel  Bvtter.  1617.  4°.  pp.359. 

This  work  is  dedicated  to  Sir  Francis  Bacon,"  His 
Maiestie  having  deigned  to  patronize  the  first  fruits  of 
my  labors,  to  whom  (if  I  may  presume)  ought  1  rather 
(for  many  titles)  to  second  with  the  second,  then  to  your 
Honour?  who  (as  Siluerius  saith  of  Caesar)  hath 
hcinotired  learning  by  his  owne  labours,  so  all  the  learned 
labour  to  honour  you  with  their  labours?  Seeing  there- 
fore his  Maiestie  vouchsafed  to  accept  of  my  Treatise  of 
Angels,  deigne  likewise  (most  worthy  Peere)  to  patro- 
nize this  of  Paradise,"  &c.  Your  honour's  humbly 
devoted,  John  Salkeld. 

The  book  consists,  of  sixty-six  chapters,  and  was  evi- 
dently consulted  by  Milton :  I  have  remarked  several  coin- 
cident passages  betvi^een  it  and  that  poet's  "  magnum 
opus."^  (Jpon  the  whole  it  is  a  very  curious  compilation, 
and  the  perusal  of  it  will  gratify  the  admirers  of  Paradise 
Lost.  It  does  not  appear  to  have  been  knoVvn  to  Mr. 
Todd. 

Bristol,  ISIO.  J.  F. 


^  The  Pilgrimes  Farewell,  to  his  Natiue  Countrey 
of  Scotland:  wherein  is  contained,  in  way  of  Dia- 
logue,   The  Joyes   and  Miseries  of  Peregrination. 

;  With  his  Lame/itado  in  his  second  Trauels,  his  Pas- 
sionado  on  the  Rhyne.  Diuerse  other  Insertings,  and 
Farewels,  to  Noble  Personages,  and,  The  Heremites 
Welcome  to  his  third  Pilgrimage,  ^c.  Worthi^  to  le 
scene  and  read  of  all  gallant  iipirits,  and  Pompe-ex>- 
pecting  eyes.  By  William  Lithgow,  the  Bonaventure 
of  Evrope,  Asia,  and  Africa,  isfc.  Patriam  meam 
transire  non  possum,  omnium  una  est,  extra  hanc 
nemo  projici  potest.  Non  patria  mihi  interdiciinr  sed 
locus.    In  quamcunque  terram  venio,  in  meam  venia, 

nulla 


i4i 

nulla  6xilium  est  sed  altera  palria  est.  Tatrta  est 
nbicunque  lene  est.  Si  enim  sapiens  est  peregrinafur, 
si  stttllus  exitlat.  Senec,  de  re,  for.  Imprinted  at 
Edinbuigh,  iy  Jndro  Hart.  Afmo  Domini  i6xS.  At 
the  Expe-nces  of  the  Author,  qto.  32  leaves. 

At  the  back  of  the  title  wood-cut  of  the  author,  as  h« 
performed  part  of  his  pilgrimages.  An  "  Epistle  Dedi- 
catorie  to  the  Nine  Pernassiaii  Sisters,  the  conseruers  of 
Helicdn,"  and  ladies  too  coy  to  listen  to  the  invocation* 
The  "  Courteous  peruser"  of  his  *' sad  farewels,"  he  In- 
forms 

"  A  greater  worke  I  meaoe  to  put  in  light, 
But  London  claimes  it  of  a  former  right: 
And  if  thou  kncwst  how  quicke  and  in  small  time. 
This  worke  I  wrote,  thou  wouldst  admire  my  rime. 
Thou  mightst  demaiind  the  reason  wljy  I  sing? 
And  done,  this  answere,  I  would  to  thee  brincr : 
There  some  that  sweare,  I  cantiot  reade  nor  write. 
And  hath  no  judgment,  for  to  frame  or  dite. 
And  to  confound  their  blind  absurd  conceat. 
My  Muse  breakes  foorth,  to  shew  their  errour  great." 

"Some  extemporaneall  lines,  written  at  theverie  view 
of  this  poeme  going  to  the  presse,  in  commendation  of  the 
Author,  his  Trauels  and  Poesies,"  forming  eight  six-line 
stanzas,  are  subscribed  "  Ignoto."     Then 

"  To  his  siTigular  fnend,  fVilliam  Lithgow. 

*f  Whiles  I  admire  thy  first  and  second  wa3'es, 
-Long  tenne yeeres  wandring,  in  the  worlde-wide  bouftdesf 
I  rest  amaz'd  to  think  on  these  assayes. 
That  thy  first  trauaile  to  the  worlde-foorth  soundesj 
In  brauest  sense,  compendious,  ornate  stile. 
Didst  thou  show  most  rare  aduentuies  to  this.yle. 
And  nowe  thy  seconde  Pilgrimage  I  see. 
At  London  thou  resolu'st,  to  put  in  light ; 
.Thy  Lyhian  wayes,  so  fearefull  to  the  eye, 
At)d  Gojramonts  their  strange  amazing  sight. 
Meane  while,  this  worke,  affordes  a  three-folde  gaine, 
Tn  furie  of  thy  fierce  Castalian  veine. 

A» 


143 

As  thou  for  trauelles,  brook'st  tht  greatest  ftaine* 
So  voyage  on,  increase^  maintaine  the  same. 

W.R." 

From  the  initials  this  piece  is  usually  attributed  to  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh. 

There  are  dedicatory  poems  from  the  author  to  the 
King,  Prince  Charles,  Lords  Archbishops  of  St.  Andrews 
arid  Glasgow,  and  the  rest  of  the  Reuerend  L.  Bishops 
of  Scotland:  to  the  Earls  of  Dumferrtieling,  Marre, 
Montrose,  and  to  others  of  the  Scottish  nobility,  various 
complimentary  pieces,  w^ith  Sonnets  and  Farewels,  too 
numerous  to  be  particularized.  The  principal  poems 
are  '*  a  conflict  betweene  the  Pilgrime  and  his  Muser 
dedicated  to  my  Lorde  Grahame,  Earle  Montrose : — ^The 
Pilgrime's  Lamentado,  in  his  second  Pilgrimage : — The 
Heremites  Welcome,  to  the  Pilgrimes  thirde  Pilgrimage." 

The  name  of  Lithgow  is  too  well  known  as  a  traveller 
and  martyr,  to  require  any  biographical  notice  here.  His 
travels  form  the  subject  of  the  conflict  with  his  Muse, 
from  which  the  following  passages  are  selected. 

Muse.  In  cabines,  they  on  mappes,  and  globes  finde  out 
The  waycs,  the  lengths,  the  breadth,  the  heights,  the  pole ; 
And  they  can  wander  all  the  worlde  about. 
And  lie  in  bedde  and  all  thy  sightes  controle. 
Though  by  experience,  thou  hast  nat'rall  sight. 
They  haiie  by  karaiag  supernat'rall  light. 
PUpime.  Thou  know'st,  Muse,  I  had  rather  see  one  land 
Be  true  eye  sight,  than  all  tlie  worlde  in  cairt: 
Two  birdes  in  flight,  and  one  fast  in  mine  hand. 
Which  of  them  both,  belonges  most  to  my  pairt: 
One  ey€-witnesse  is  more,  than  ten  which  hears, 
I  dare  affirme  the  trueth,  when  tliey  forbeare. 
Muse.  Heere  thou  preuail'st,  with  mis'ries  I  must  daunt 
Thy  braines  :  recall  the  house-bred  scorpion  sting. 
The  hissing  serpent,  in  thy  way  that  haunts, 
And  crawling  snaices,  which  dammage  often  biitig: 
The  byting  viper,  and  the  quadraxe  spred. 
That  serae  for  courtaines,  to  thy  campane  bedde. 
Pilgrime.  I  know  the  world-wide  fields  ray  lodging  is. 
And  ven'mous  thinges,  attende  my  fearefull  sleepe : 
But, in  this  case,  my  comfort  is  oft  this. 
The  watchfull  lizard  my  bare  face  doeth  keepe : 

By 


144 

By  day  I  feede  her,  shee  saues  mee  by  nightj 

And  so  to  trauaile,  I  haue  more  than  right 

Muse.  If  (deare  to  mee)  thou  wouldst  resolue  to  stajr 
Our  noble  peares,  they  would  maintaine  thy  state. 
If  not,  I  should  find  out  another  way. 
To  moue  the  worlde  to  succour  thine  hard  fate ; 
And  I  shall  cloathe,  and  knde  and  feede  the  too. 
Affect  my  veine,  and  all  this  I  will  doe. 
Pilgrime.  To  feede  mee  (slaue)  thou  knoWst  I  am  thy  Lord, 

And  can  command  the^,  when  I  please  myselfe. 
.  Wouldst  thou  to  rest  my  restlessfe  minde  accorde. 
And  ballance  deare-bought  fame  with  terrene  pelfe.' 
No,  as  the  earth  helde  but  one  Alexander, 
So,  pnelie  I,  auow,  all  where  to  wander. 
Muse.  What  hast  thou  wonne,  when  thou  hast  gotte  thy  will? 
A  momentarie  shaddowe  of  strange  sightes: 
Though  with  content,  thou  thy  conceite  doestfill, 
.  Thou  canst  not  lende-the  worlde  these  true  delightes : 
Though  thy  selfe  loue  to  these  attemptes  contract  thee. 
Where  teri  thee  praise,  there's  fiue  thdt  will  detract  thee. 
Pilgrinie.  It's  for  mine  own  mindes  sake  tKou  knoWst  I  wandei', 
«  Not  I,  nor  none,  the  worldes  great  voyce  xan  make. 
Thinkst  thou  mee  bound  acompt  to  render. 
And  would  vaine  fpdles,  I  trauell'd  for  their  sake: 
No,  I  well  kuow,  there  is  no  gallant  spirit, 
(Vnlesse  a  knaue)  but  will  yeelde  mee  my  merit. 
Muse.  Thou  trauel'st  aye,  but  where's  thy  mcanes  to  doe  it  ? 
Thou  hast  no  landes,  no  exchange,  nor  no  rent. 
There's  no  familiare  sprite  doeth  helpe  the  to  it. 
And  yet  1  maruell  how  thy  time  is  spent ; 

This  shifting  of  thy  wittes  should  breede  thee  loathing 
To  Hue  at  so  great  rate,  when  friendes  helpe  nothing. 
Pilgrime.  The  worlde  is  wide,  God's  prouidenceis  more. 
And  cloysters  are  but  foote-stooles  to  my  bellie ; 
Grea^t  Dukes  and  Princes  oint  my  palme  with  ore, 
And  Romane-clergie  golde  with  griede  I  swellie : 
It  comes  as  winde,  and  slides  away  like  water. 

These  merilorious  men,  I  daylie  flatter 

Muse.  Thou  here  borne  north  vnder  a  clirhate  colde, 
I  thinke  farre  south,  with  heat  should  not  agree ; 
And  in  my  rainde,  I  this  opinion  hold,^ 
These  vig'rous  heats  at  last  thy  death  shall  be. 
I  know  these  nigroes  of  the  Austriale  sunnc 
Kaue  not  endur'd  such  heat  as  thou  hast  done. 
Pilgrime.  For  to  conserue  mine  health,  I  eate  not  much. 
When  I  drinkewine  it's  iflixt  wiUi  water  aye: 

They 


145 

They  are  hat  gliittones,  riote  doeth  auouch  j 
1  trauaile  in  the  night,  and  sleepe  all  day. 

My  disposition  and  complexion  gree, 

I  am  not  sanguine  nor  to  pale^  you  see. 
Muse.  A  murthrer  judg'd,  set  on  a  wheele  aboue. 
How  many  pinnes  formurther  hast  thou  tolde? 
No  lesse  than  twenty  three  I  will  approue. 
And  darst  thou  in  these  dead  mens  wayes  bee  bold  ? 

Thinkst  thou  thy  fortune  better  still  than  theirs. 

The  foxe  runneslong,  at  last  entrapp'din  snares. 
Ptlgrime.  All  that  haue  breath  must  die,  and  man  much  more, 
Some  here,  some  there,  his  Horoscope  is  so : 
Be  wee  are  borne,  our  weirds  they  poste  bfefore. 
None  can  his  destiny  shunne  nor  frons  it  goe. 

Nothing  than  death  more  sure,  vncertaine  too. 

Who  aymes  at  fame  all  hazards  must  allows. 
Muie.  But  swollrn  man  in-thy  conceal  take  heed. 
What  great  distresse  of  hunger  hast  thou  tholde. 
That  often  times,  for  one  poore  loaue  of  bread. 
Thou  would' st  (if  poss'ble)  giuen  a  worlde  of  gold. 

Remember  of  thy  sterile  Lybian  wayes. 

Where  thou  didst  fast,  but  meate  or  drinke  nine  dayes. 
Pilgrime.  Dispeopled  desartes,  bred  that  deare-bought  griefe. 
No  state  but  change,  no  sweete  without  some  gall ; 
Yet  in  Tobacco  I  found  great  reliefe. 
The  smoake  whereof  expell'd  that  pinching  thrall  ; 

And  for  that  time  I  graunt,  I  drunk  the  water, 

That  through  my  bodie  came  instead  of  better. 
Muse.  The  vaprous  Serene  of  the  humide  night. 
Which  sprinkled  oft  with  foggie  dew  thy  face, 
Gaue  to  thy  bodie,  and  thine  head  such  weight. 
When  thou  awak'd,  conldst  scarce  aduance  thy  pace  : 

And  scarce  of  springes  did  so  thy  thirst  increase, 

^hy  skitine  gtowne  lumpie,  made  thy  strength  decrease. 
Pilgrime.  I  yeelde,  thou  knowst  these  thinges  as  well  as  I, 
But  when  1  slept,  great  care  I  had  to  couer 
My  naked  face,  and  kept  my  bodie  drie. 
The  manner  how  I  neede  it  not  discouer. 

Though  thou  object  these  mistes  the  clcuds  forth-spew. 

All  thy  hrauadoes  cannot  make  mee  rew. 
Muse.  The  galley-threatning  death,  where  slaues  are  whipt. 
Each  banke  holdes  foure,  foure  chaines  ty'd  in  one  ring  : 
Where  twise  a  day  poore  they  are  naked  stript, 
A.nd  bath'd  in  blood  their  woefull  handes  they  wring  : 

They  roll  still  scourg'd,  on  bread  and  water  feede, 

Twise  this  thou  scap'd,  the  third  time  now  take  heede. 
VOL,  II.  L  Pilgrime. 


1^6 

Pilgnme.  At  Cephalone,  and  Nigroponte  I  know. 
And  Lystra  too,  three  slaueries  I  escap'd ; 
And  tenne  times  Galleoies  made  a  cruell  show, 
At  Little  lies,  to  haue  mee  there  intrapp'd  : 

But  their  atteraptes  still  failde  I  tbanke  my  God, 
Yet  I  no  way  can  liue,  if  not  abrode. 
Muse.  Bat  ah  recall  the  hearbes,  rawe  rootes  yee  eate. 

White  snails,  greene  frogs,  gray  streams,  hard  beds  deray'd; 
And  if  this  austiere  life  seeme  to  thee  meete, 
I  yeelde  to  thy  experience  long  assayd  : 
Then  stay,  O  stay,  succeeding  times  agree. 
To  reconcile  thy  rainde,  thy  meanes,  and  thee. 
Pi/grime.  To  stay  at  home  thou  knowst  J  cannot  liue  : 
To  Hue  abroade  I  know  the  worlde  maintaines  mee : 
To  bee  beholden  to  a  churle  I  grieue  :, 
And  if  I  want,  my  dearest  friende  disdaines  mee : 
And  so  the  forraine  face  to  me  is  best, 
I  lacke  no  meanes,  alihough  I  lacke  my  rest. 
Muse.  I  graunt  it's  true,  and  more  esteem'd  abroade. 
But  zeale  growes  coldeand  thou  forgetst  the  way: 
Better  it  were  at  home  to  serue  thy  Gob, 
Than  wandring  still,  to  wander  quite  astray  : 

Thou  canst  not  trauaile,  keepe  thy  conscience  too, 
For  that  is  more  than  pilgrimes  well  can  doe. 
Pilgrime.  I  wonder  Muse  thou  knowst  to  heare  a  messe, 
I  make  no  breach  of  law,  but  for  to  learne ; 
And  if  not  curious,  then  the  worlde  might  gesse 
I  hardlie  could  twixt  good  and  ill  discearne: 
I  enter  not  their  kirkes  as  vpon  doubt 
Of  faith  ;  but  their  strange  erroures  to  finde  out. 
Muse.  O  well  replyde,  but  yet  a  greater  spotte. 
Thou  bowst  thy  knees  before  their  altars  hie  : 
And  when  comes  the  leuation,  there's  the  blotte. 
Thou  knockst  thy  breast  and  wallowst  with  thine  eye  : 
And  when  the  little  bell  ringes  through  the  streete. 
Thou  prostrate  fall'st,  their  sacrament  to  greete. 
Pilgrime.  Thou  fail'st  therein,  I  still  fledde  superstition. 
But  I  confesse,  I  got  the  holie  blessing  j 
And  vnder  colour  of  a  rare  contrition. 
The  papall  panton  heele,  I  fell  a  kissing  : 

But  they  that  mee  mistake  are  base-born  clownes, 
I  did  it  not  for  loue,  but  for  the  crownes " 

As  this  writer's  attempts  at  poetry  are  but  little  known, 
I  shall  venture  to  extend  the  specimens  with  the  following 
two  short  pieces. 

"J 


147 

"  A  Sonnet,  made  hy  the  Juthor,  leing  vpon  Mount 
JEtna  in  Sicilia,  An.  1615.  And  on  the  second  day 
thereafter  arriuing  at  Messina,  he  found ,  two  of  his 
countrey  gentlemen,  Dauid  Seton,  of  the  House  of 
Perbraith,  and  Matthew  Douglas  now  presentlie  at 
Court ;  to  whome  hee  presented  the  same,  they  beeing 
at  that  instant  time  some  40  miles  from  thence. 

"  High  standes  thy  toppe^  but  higher  lookes  mine  eye. 
High  scares  thy  smoake,  but  higher  my  desire  : 
High  are  thy  roundes,  steepe,  circled,  as  I  see. 
But  higher  farre  this  breast,  whiles  I  aspire : 
High  mountes  the  furie  of  thy  burning  fire. 
But  higher  farre  mine  aymes  transcende  aboue: 
High  bendes  thy  force,  through  midst  of  Vulcanes  ire. 
But  higher  flies  my  sprite,  with  winges  of  loue : 
High  preasse  thy  flames,  the  chrystail  aire  to  moue. 
But  higher  farre  the  scope  of  mine  engine  : 
High  lies  the  snow,  on  thy  proud  toppes,  I  proue. 
But  higher  vp  ascendes  my  braue  designe. 

Thine  height  cannot  surpasse  this  clowdie  frame. 
But  my  poore  soule,  the  highest  heauens  doth  clairae  : 
Meanewhile  with  paine  I  climbe  to  view  thy  toppes. 
Thin  hight  makes  fall  from  me  ten  thousand  droppes. 
Yours  afiectionate, 

William  Lithgow." 

"  To  his  vnknowne,  knowne ;  and  knowne]  vnJinowne  Loue, 
These  now  knowne  lines,  an  -vjiknowne  Ireast  shall  mow. 

"  Selfe-flattring  I,  deceiuer  of  my  selfe. 

Opinions  slaue,  rul'd  by  a  base  conceate; 

Whome  eu'rie  winde  naufragiates  on  the  shelfe 

Of  apprehension,  jealous  of  ray_  state. 

Who  guides  mee  most,  that  guide  I  most  misknow, 
Suspectes  the  shaddow  for  a  substant  show. 

I  still  receiue,  the  thing  I  vomite  out, 

Conceiues  againe  imaginarie  wracke : 

I  stable  stand,  and  yet  I  stand  in  doubt, 

Giues  place  to  one  when  two  repuUes  me  backe : 
I  kindle  fire,  and  that  same  fire  I  quench. 
And  swim  the  deepes,  but  dare  not  downwarde  drench. 

I  grieue  at  this,  prolong'd  in  my  desire. 
And  I  rejoyce,  that  my  delay  is  such  : 

L  2  I  trie, 


148 

I  trie,  and  knowes  my  tryall  may  aspire. 
But  flees  the  place  that  should  this  time  auouch. 
In  stinging  smartes,  my  sweete  conucrtes  in  sowre, 
I  builde  the  hiue,  but  dare  not  sucke  the  flowre. 
Well  honney  combe,  since  I  am  so  faint  hearted. 
That  I  flee  backe,  when  thou  vnmaskst  thy  face: 
Thou  sfaalt  bee  gone,  and  I  must  bee  decarted. 
Such  doubtfull  stayes  enhaunce,  when  wee  imbrace : 
Farewell,  wee  two,  diuided  are  for  euer. 
Yet  vndiuided  whilst  our  soules  disseuer. 

Thiue,  as  I  am  mine,  William  Lithgow." 

J.  H. 


^  The  gushing  Teares  of  Godly  Sorrow.  Containing 
the  causes,  conditions,  and  remedies  of  Sinne,  de- 
,  pending  mainly  upon  Contrition  and  confession.  And 
they  seconded  with  sacred  and  comfortable  passages, 
under  the  mourning  cannopie  of  Teares,  and  Repent- 
ance. Matth.  V.  4.  Blessed  are  they  that  mourne, 
for  they  &iiaU  he  comforted.  Psal.  zxxvi.  5.  They 
that  sow  in  teares,  shall  reape  in  ioy.  By  William, 
Lithgow.  Edinburgh,  printed  by  Robert  Bryson, 
Anno  Dom.  1640,  At  the  expences  of  the  Jut  hour  ^ 
qtQ.  50  leaves. 

Dedicated  to  "lames  Earle  of  Montrose,  Lord  Grahame, 
Baron  of  Murdock,  &c."  wherein  Lithgow  says  "my  humble 
request,  pleads  the  continuance  of  your  favour,  that  as  your 
late  renowned  Grand-father  and  Fatlier,  were  unto  mee  both 
friendlie  and  favourable  (proceeding  from  their  great  goodnesse, 
iiot  my  deserts;)  so  expect  I  the  same  from  your  tender  boun- 
tie,  which  hitherto  beyond  my  merit,  hath  beene  exceeding 
kyndlie  manifested.  For  the  which,  my  prayse  and  prayers, 
the  two  sisters  of  myne  Oblation,  rest  sglidlie  ingenochiated  at 
the  feete  of  your  conspicuous  clemencie.  This  present  worke 
in  Its  secret  infancie,  was  both  seene  aad  perused  by  your  Lo : 
but  now  enlarged,  pplished,  and  piThlished :  I  have  done  my 
bipst,  though  not  my  uttermost : —The  lynes  are  plaine,  yet 
pithie;  and  although  the  subject  may  carrie  no  loftie  nor 
poetjcke  style,  yet  the  manner,  the  matter,  the  man,  and  his 
Muse,  are  all,  and.  oply  yours,  and  I  left  theirs  onlie  to  serve 
you,  and  your  mible  disposittoa." . 

Then 


149 

Then  "  the  Prologue  to  the  Reader,"  in  nine  stanzas, 
of  which  the  secDnd  and  third  follow: 

"  My  Muse  declynes,  downe  slyde  her  loftie  straynes 
And  hoarie  growes,  succumbing  to  the  dust ; 
Old  wrung  inventions,  frotn  industrious  paynes 
Draw  to  the  grave,  where  death  must  feede  his  lust : 
Flesh  flye  in  ashes,  bones  returne  to  clay. 
Whence  1  begunne,  there  mu^  my  subst!(nce  stSy. 
Goe,  thou  laborious  pen,  and  challenge  tyme. 
For  niemorie,  lo  all  succeeding  ages;, 
In  thy  past  workes,  and  high  heroicbe  ryme. 
And  pregnant  prose,  in  thryqe  thrte  thousand  pages : 
Yet  dye  thbu  must,  and  tyme  shall  weare  ihee  out. 
Ere  seaven  tymes  seaven  worne  ages  goe  about." 

Our  author's  gushing  teares  overflow  through  456  six- 
line  stanzas,  and  longer  intercourse  did  not  render  his 
Muse  better  naturcd.  The  following  extract,  according 
to  the  margin,  commences  with  depicting  "  the  repug- 
nance of  ill  and  good." 

"  The  best  man  lives,  hath  one  predominant  ill, 
Oppos'd  to  the  best  good  he  can  effect; 
The  worst  man  breaths,  though  cufs'd,  pervers'd  of  will. 
Hath  some  predominant  good,  he  doth  affect : 
Even  either  answering,  contrare  to  their  kinde, 
Seeme  to  resemble  what  they  never  finde. 

I      Lord  !  what  am  I,  whose  best  is  even  accurst. 
Who  with  thy  convert,  is  of  sinners  chief: 
A  sharde  unsav'rie  of  thy  works  the  worst, 
Uulesse  thy  grace  reneu  me  with  rdiefe: 

Lerd !  will  nay  well !  prepare  ray  heart,  gtyg  ©are, 
Jf  faiih  can  call,  O  !  thou  canst  quickly  heare. 

The  poore  which  almes  seeks,  he  gets  not  aide. 

For  any  need,  the  giver  hath  of  Irira ; 

But  even  because  he  hath  of  us  great  need ; 

So  we  6y  faith  on  Christian  steps  must  dim : 
For  God  of  bis  great  love,  be  freely  s;ives  us. 
And  without  neqd  of  man  he  still  relieves  us. 

A  cynick  came,  and  aek'd  the  Syrian  king, 

( Antigonus)  a  dram  of  sUver  coyne ; 

But  he  reply'd  it  was  too  base  a  thing 

For  kings  to  give,  or  lend^o  snoall  a  loane : 
Said  cynick  then,  I  Would  a  talent  crave. 
But  thats  too  much  for  thee  (said  he)  to  have. 

L  I.  3  Thus 


Thus  two  extreams,  were  both  extreamly  met. 
But  its  not  so  with  God,  and  sinful!  men ; 
The  more  we  seeke,  the  more  we're  sure  to  get, 
God  of  his  bounty  is  so  good,  that  when 

We  mercy  cravte,  he  grants  it,  gives  us  grace. 
Our  wills  and  wayes  may  in  his  precepts  trace. 
Lift  up  my  falling  minde.  Lord  ! .  knit  my  heart 
With  cords  of  love  and  chaines  of  grace  to  thee; 
As  Jonathan's  three  arrows  did  impart 
To  Dauids  woes  true  signes  of  amitie. 

So  rouze  my  sprite,  let  grace  and  goodnesse  spell 
Mine  annagram  I  Love  Almighty  Wei.* 
O!  if  I  could  byte  off  the  head  of  sinne 
As  the  shee  viper  doth  the  male  confound, 
.  But  not  like  her,  whose  brood  conceiv'd  within. 
Cut  forth  her  wombe,  leave  her  dead  on  the  ground. 
Lord  I  grant  I  sinne  may  slay,  ere  sinne  slay  me. 
The  wounds  are  deep,  my  health  consists  in  Thee. 
Lord  !  when  I  ponder  on  this  worldly  pride. 
Vain  glory,  riches,  honour,  noble  birth, 
Great  lands,  and  rents,  faire  palaces  beside 
Pastimes,  and  pleasures  fit-thought  things  on  earth. 

Without  thy  love,  and  in  regard  of  thee, 
'     They're  nought  but  shaddows,  of  meere  vanitie." 

J.  H. 


%  Here  begynneth  a  lytell  treaty se  of  the  horse,  the 
shepe,  andthegoos.  [Printed  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde-f] 

This  poem  is  attributed  to  Lidgate.     The  subject  is  a 
dispute  between  the  horse,  the  sheep,  and  the  goose,  as 

to 

•  [Making  JVilliame  I.ythgn've.^ 
t  Folded  in  sixes,  with  double  signatures,  extending  to  b  b  v. 
the  last  leaf  wanting.  The  above  title  forms  two  head  lines  upon 
the  second  leaf:  aa  i  has  a  wood-cut,  repeated  on  next  side,  of  a 
lion  holding  his  court,  attended  by  the  wolf,  the  hound,  the  cat, 
and,  perhaps,  the  fox.  At  a  distance  the  death  ofKywanthe 
hare  by  the  fox,  seems  to  be  displayed.  The  whole  representation 
IS  undoubtedly  from  th?  story  of  Reynard  the  Fox,  and,  if  it  was 

not 


to  the  value  of  their  services  rendered  to  mankind  ;  which 
is  left  for  decision  to  those  "  prudente  juges  the  egle  and 
the  lyon."  The  horse  details  his  chronicled  history,  his 
martial  and  other  achievements,  and  that 

"  Chau  cer  reraembreth  the  swerde  rynge  and  glas 
Presented  were  vpon  a  stede  of  bras." 

He  also  urges  his  usefulness  in  husbandry  and  labour, 
that 

"  Auguste  is  a  season  mery  and  gladde 
Whan  euery  tree  with  newe  fruyte  is  lade 
With  draught  of  horse  y''.  sheues  ben  home  ladde. 
That  moneth  passed,  the  leues  gan  to  fade 
Whiche  made  in  somer  a  plesaunte.  lusty  shade 
What  done  horse  than  to  speke  in  wordes  playne 
The  second  croppe  they  carye  home  of  rewayne. 

By  draught  of  horse  fro  ryuers  and  welles 

Bouges  be  brought  to  brewers  for  gooii  ale 

Lede,  stonej  tymbers,  caryage  of  belles 

We  brynge  to  chyrches  in  trouthe  this  is  no  tale. 

We  lede  clothe,  sackes,  and  many  a  large  male 

And  gladly  sunamers  be  sente  to  forne 

With  gardeuyandes,  how  my  horse  be  forborne." 

The  enjoyment  of  two  elements  is  described  as  a  mat- 
ter of  superiority  by  the  Goose ;  also  the  medicinal  vir- 
tues of  the  body,  and  that 

"  Fethers  of  gees,  whan  they  fall  or  moute. 
To  gather  them  vp  herdes  them  delyte. 
To  sell  to  fletchers  the  graye  with  the  whyte. 

Men  plucke  stalkes  out  of  my  wynges  tweyne. 
Some  to  portray,  some  to  note,  or  wryte ; 
Whan  rethoryens  haue  do  theyr  besy  payne, 
Fresshe  epystles,  lettres  to  endyte. 
Without  wrytynge  auayleth  not  a  mytej 
For  yf  pennes  and  wrytynge  were  awaye. 
Of  remembraunce  then  were  loste  the  keye." 

While  a  dead  horse  is  but  carrion,  the  fat  goose  "  in 

not  once  the  property  of  De  Worde's  master,  Caxton,  it  must  be 
supposed  a  loan  from  his  contemporary,  Pinson,  as  De  Worde  is 
not  known  to  have  printed  that  work,  and  both  the  others  did. 

L  L  4  "a  dysshe 


a  dysshe  of  golde,"  is  a  morsell  "  serued  vpon  a  kynges 
table;"  and,  says  our  monk, 

"  Swymmynge  al)-ue  in  water  crysfalyne, 
Tenderly  rested  requyreth  to  haue  wyne." 

The  value  of  the  bearded  arrow  in  war  and  the  preser- 
vation of  Rome  from  the  cacklingof  a  goose,  is  succeeded 
by  a  relation  of  legendary  origin : 

"  In  the  booke  named  of  cheualrye  destyne, 
Thestorye  telleth,  as  in  sentemente. 
There  were  chyltlren  borne  of  the  ryall  lyne. 
Borne  with  chaynes,  &  whan  they  were  of  rente 
I'hey  tourne  to  swannes  hy  enchauntenient 
Toke  theyr  flyght;  the  trouthe  is  full  clere, 
And  as  swannes  they  swamme  in  the  reuere. 

This  storye  is  full  autentyke  and  olde, 
In  Frenche  compyled,  oft  red  and  sene; 
Of  thylke  cheyne  was  made  a  cuppe  of  golde 
Whiche  is  yet  kepte,  as  some  folkes  seyne. 
And  by  descent  it  longeth  in  eerteyne. 
To  the  herfordes ;  ye  shall  fynde  in  dede, 
Ceryouly^  who  so  lyste  the  storye  to  rede. 

And,  semblably  not  longe  here  to  forne, 

I  tell  this  tale  as  for  my  partye. 

There  was  a  map  in  Lunibardy  borne, 

To  a  goos  ytou.rned  by  crafte  of  sjorserye. 

And  so  he  abode  seuen  yere,  ray  lyste  not  to  lye. 

His  wryte  fell  of,  then  stode  he  vp  a  man 

And  abode  in  ^eruyce  with  the  duke  of  Melan. 

And,  for  he  was  a  man  of  hygh  degree. 
Borne  of  good  blood,  and  notable  in  sustaunce. 
His  kynred  gyued  a  goos  for  theyr  leuere. 
The  sayd  meruayle  to  put  in  reipembraunce 

The  simplicity  of  the  sheep  brought  the  sturdy  ram 
forward  as  an  advocate.  Scriptural  history  of  the  Paschal 
lamb  is  first  given.  The  wool  forms  the  riches  of  "Beates 
Aibyon,"  and 

"  Of  the  shepe  cometh  pejlet,  and  eke  fell, 
Gadied  in  this,  Ipnde  foi'greie  mafchaundyse; 
Caryed  oner  the  se  where  may  it  sell; 
The  wull  skynnes  causen  men  to  ryse 
In  to  grete  rychesse;  in  many  sondry  wyse 

The 


^53 

The  sliep  tourneth  to  grete  prguflfyte, 
To  helpe  of  raan  bereth  furrc  black  and  whylg. 
There  is  also  made  of  the  shepes  skynne 
Pylehes  and  gloiies,  to  dryue  away  the  colde; 
Therof  also  is  made  good  parchemyne 

To  wryte  of  Ijokes  and  quayres  many  folde 

Of  the  shepe  is  caste  a  waye  no  thynge 
His  home  for  nociies,  to  haftes  go  his  bone  ; 
To  londe  grete  prouffyte  dooth  liis  tyrtelynge; 
His  talowe  serueth  for  playsrers  many  one; 
For  harpe  slrynges  his  ropes  serue  echone; 
Of  whoos  hedd  boyled,  wiih  wull  and  all. 
There  cometh  a  gely  and  an  oyntement  ryal." 

The  horse  and  goose  reply.  The  copy  from  which  the 
^bove  was  tratiscriheel  is  in  posstssion  of  Mr.  Hawarth, 
and  unfortunately  wants  the  laist  leaf,  which  contains  the 
decision  of  the  judges. 

J.  H. 


^  A  Sermon  preached  ye  fourth  Sudaye  in  Lente  lefore 
the  Kynges  Maiestie  and  hh  honorable  Counsell,  liy 
Thomas  Leaner.  Jnno  Domini  1550.  [Colophon.] 
Imprynted  a,t  London  by  lolm  Day,  dmellings  aiier 
Mdersgaie,  b.eneth  Saint  Martyns.  Jnd  ate  to  be 
sold  at  his  shop  by  the  litle  conduit  in  Chepesyde  at 
the  sygne  of  the  Resurrection.  Cum  priuilegio  ad 
imprimendum  solum.     Fer  septennium.  L  4    8°. 

"  And  when  as  by  the  same  mouth  of  the  true  -preacher, 
theyr  venemous  tounues  be  rebuked,  the"  they  spare  not  to 
say,  that  the  preacher  hath  learned  his  lesiioo  in  lack  an  apes 
court." 

The  preacher  addresses  hia  Majesiy  in  a  style  of  pe- 
culiar boldness  in  the  following  extract. 

"  Euen  as  V  thousandes  in  wildernes  fotowed  Christ  and  his 
apostles,  so  manye  thousandes  in  Englande,  past  at!  other 
hope  and  -refuge,  folowe  your  gracious  loaiestye  and  honour- 
able counsel,  for  theyr  parsons,  whjclie  should  lyke  sliei>- 
h^ards  feede  them,  doo  lyke  theues,  robbe,  murtber  and  s-payte 
them.    And  tbpyr  laadlordes  which  sbuld  defend  thera,  he 

moste 


154 

moste  heauye  maisters  vnto  them  :  yea,  all  maner  of  officers 
doo  not  theyr  duties  to  kepe  the  people  in  good  order,  but 
rather  take  such  fees  as  inaketh  the  people  veraye  poore,  who 
so  hathe  eyes,  and  wyll  see,  may  easely  perceiue  that  those 
personages,  which  be  most  in  number  and  greateste  in  value 
throughout  al  EngUnde,  be  no  shepherds  houses  to  lay  vp 
fodder  to  feede  the  poore  shepe  of  the  parysh,  but  theeuysh 
dennes,  to  conuey  awaye  great  spoyle  from  al  the  rych  men  of 
the  parysh.  I  say  there  is  no  person  there,  to  releue  the  poore 
&  nedy  with  natural  sustinau~ce  in  kepynge  of  house,  and  to 
fede  all  ingenerally  with  the  heauenly  foode  of  goddes  worde 
by  preachinge:  but  there  is  a  persons  deputy  or  fermer,  which 
hauing  neither  habilitye,  power,  nor  authorytye  to  doo  the  p&r- 
sones  duty  in  feedyng  and  leachinge  the  parish,  is  able,  suf- 
ficient, and  stout  iiiough  to  ehalenge  and  take  for  hys  maysters 
dutye  the  tenth  parte  of  al  the  paryshe.  Likewise  other  offi- 
cers take  many  fees,  and  do  few  dutyes:  and  especiallye  iand- 
lordes  take  exceadynge  fynes  and  rentes  of  theyr  tenauntes, 
and  doo  no  good  unto  theyr  tenauntes." 

Bristol,  1810.  J.  F. 


Tl  Fiue  Bookes  of  Philosophkall  Comfort,  fvll  of 
Christian  consolation,  ivritten  a  looo  years  since. 
By  Anitius.  Manliui,  Torquatus.  Seuerinu-s,  Boetivs, 
a  Christian  Consul  of  Rome.  Newly  translated  out 
of  Laline,  together  with  Marginall  Notes,  explain- 
ing the  obscurest  places  [Wood-Cut,  motto.  Thou 
shalt  labovr  for  peace  and  plentie  j.  London :  Printed 
by  John  Windet,  for  Maihew  Lownes.  1609.  folios 
144.  lamo. 

Early  versions  of  the  classics  must  ever  be  interesting. 
The  present  is  apparently  scarce,  from  not  being  noticed 
by  Dr.  A.  Clarke  in  his  Bibliographical  Miscellany. 

It  has  a  dedication  "  to  the  most  Vertnous  Ladv,  the 
Countesse  of  Dorset  Dowager,?'  "your  most  meane  but 
not  least  deupted  seruant,  I.  T."  from  which  we  learn 
that  her  husband  had  once  intended  to  translate  Boetius. 
Prefixed  to  the  work  are  a  sonnet,  and 'ten  lines  by  the 
Author,  and  a  sonnet  by  G.  G.  The  translation  is  an 
intermixture  of  prose  and  verse.  One  extract  will- suffice. 

"  The 


^55 

"■The  vii  verse. 

.Philosophy  declareth  how  the  pirturlations  of  our  mind 
doe  hinder  vs  jrom  the  knowledge  of  truth. 

"  When  starres  are  shrowded 

Willi  duskie  night. 

They  yeeld  no  light 
Being  so  clowded. 
WLeu  the  wind  moueth. 

And  waves  do  reare. 

The  sea  late  cleare, 
Foule  and  darke  proueth. 
And  riuers  creeping 

Downe  a  high  iiill, 

Stand  often  still, 
Kockes  them  back  keening. 
If  thou  wouklst  brightly. 

See  truthes  cleare  rayes. 

Or  walke  those  wayes. 
Which  lead  most  rightly. 
All  joy  forsaking, 

Feare  thou  must  flie. 

And  hopes  defie. 
No  sorrow  taking. 
For  where  these  terrors 

Raigne  in  the  mind, 

They  it  doe  bind. 
In  cloudy  errors." 

Bristol,  ISIO.  J.  F. 


^  The  Line  of  Lileralitie  dulie  directinge  the  wel  le^ 
stowing  of  henefites  and  reprehending  the  comonly 
vsed  vice  of  Ingratitude.  Anno  i^dg.  Imprinted  at 
London  in  Flete  strete  neare  to  S.  Dunstones  Church 
ly  Thomas  Marshe.  Oct.  135  leaves. 

"To  the  Right  Woorshipfull  Sir  Christopher  Heydon, 
Knight,  his  most  courteouse  creditour  of  many  his  bounties 
and  benefitesj"  addresses  the  Epistle  Dedicatory. ..."  Who 
is  he  to  whome  the  report  of  your  Worshippe's  name  hath 
come,  but  with  the  same  report  hath  lykewyse  heard  your 

worthic 


'5^ 

worthie  renoume,  and  verteues_wel  nigh  of  a!  sortes,  suche  as 
may  challeng  and  claim  your  deserued  crowne  of  imrnortalitie. 
Amonge  whiche  wiiat  shall  I  recompt  your  rare  sobryrtie, 
greate  lenyde,  passyng  familiarilie,  commendable  policie, 
genlle  gra'uitie,  pregnant  wisdome,  deepe  discrecioii,  large 
liberalitie,  paynefolnes  to  plesour  all  honest  persones,  ainple 
hospitalitie,  to  the  admiration  and  well  nigh  astonnyeng  of  all 
that  see  such  rare  gyftes  so  plentifullye  placed  in  your  owne 
person,  with  an  infinite  nomber  wel  nigh  of  vertwes  besides, 
in  the  Ifst  of  whirhe  resteth  trew  woorshyppe ( Sub- 
scribed) your  Worship's  depe  dettour.     Nicolas  Havvard." 

The  volume  is  divided  into  three  books;  the  first  con- 
tains fifteen  chapters,  upon  the  nature,  extent  and  plea- 
sure of  applying  benefits ;  the  second  thirty-five  chapters, 
of  secrecy  and  promptness  in  the  application,  without 
being  solicited,  and  of  gratitude  in  the  receiver,  and  the 
third  book,  thirty  three  chapters  of  ingratitude  or  forgei- 
fulnes,  and  benefits  received  from  inferiors.  The  whole 
is  interspersed  with  apposite  relations  from  history,  and 
forms  an  amusing  and  instructive  collection.  As  a  specie 
men  of  the  language  is  selected  the  chapter  to  prove 

"  Symple  thynge.s  gyuen  with  a  good  wil  more  accep- 
table then  rich  giftes  with  grutchyng. 

'' For  yf  it  were  so  that  benefites  consisted  in  the  thynges 
whyche  are  geuen,  and  not  in  the  mind  of  him  who  geueth 
the  same,  then  should  it  al-,o  follow,  that  lok  how  much  greal- 
ter  in  valewe  the  thynge  is  that  is  geuen,  so  muche  greiter 
shoulde  the  benefit  be  to  be  accompted  of.  But  that  is  vntrew. 
For  somewhiles  wee  are  more  beholdyng,  and  to  thinke  our- 
selues  depelyer  bounde  to  hym  that  geueth  vs  thynges  bnt  of 
small  valew,  whose  good  will  notwithstandynge  ought  to  be 
more  deere  to  vs  and  hvgher  in  estimation  then  any  the  greate 
abundance  and  rvches  ot  Princes.  For  admitte-  that  bts  gift 
was  hut  simple,  his  hart  yet  was  magnificent  and  liberal),  in 
that  he  regarded  not  hys  owne  poueriicj  be  was  so  gkd  be  had 
to  seme  my  greate  want  presentlye.  Wherein  lie  declared 
bymself  not  onely  to  meane  well  to  me-warde,  but  also"  to 
haue  an-  earnest  zele  and  desier  in  himself  to  declare  and  ac- 
complish the  same.  In  which  his  weldoing,  he  seemeih  to 
take  delight,  bestowing  those  his  benefits  as  one  not  loking-or 
hoping  after  any  recompence,  more  then  if  he  bad  ^iven  me 
no  whyt  at  all.  But  of  his  owne  accord  seeketh  to  find  and 
take  occasion  to  proffit  and  plesour  me.     On  thother  syde  (as 

I  haue 


^57 

I  haue  sayde  before)  these  tbinges  are  neyther  plesant  nor  ac- 
ceptable whiche  though  of  themselues  they  heeine  to  be  of 
great  valew  and  pryce,  yet  they  are  not  without  great  en- 
treaty,  and  importunate  seute  and  request   obtained  at  the 
hands  of  the  grau'ters,  ol"  els  whiclie  by  chaunce  and  vnad- 
uisedlye  escape  them.     Cut  tarre  more  thankefully  is  the  litle 
simple  gift  to  be  reeeiued,  geuen  with  assured  good  v.  ill  and 
franclfly,  then  is  plenty  and  afflue~ce  geven  with  grutching  and 
repining.     For  why,  in  suche  case  thus  may  I  saye.     Truthe 
it  is :  that  wbicbe  this  man  hath  geven  me  is  but  a  small  thing, 
but  wayeng  his  abiliiie,  be  is  muche  to  be  commended,  for  he 
gaue  it  me  with  a  uery  good  vtil:  and  besides,  his  wekhe 
coalde  not  ex-terid  to  giue  tne  any  thing  of  gretter  valew. 
Againe,  the  present  of  that  other,  I  confesse,  was  very  muche 
and  of  great  pryce,  but  with  what  dktrust  did  he  it  andloage 
delaye,  and  how  muche  did  he  repent  him  after  he  had  done 
it?  He  dyd  it  for  vaine  glory  onely,  and  to  thend  he  raight 
triu^phe  oCier  me,  and  reporte  to  others  how  much  he  had 
plesoured,  and  in  what  necessity  1  stode  of  his  help.     So  that 
good  cause  1  haue  to  perswade  myself  that  he  dyd  it  not  for 
good  will,  and  earnest  loiae,  or  affection  be  bare  to  me,  but  to 
blase  abrode  his  own  name  and  take  occasion  so  to  doo  at  my 
necessitie.     Who  that  to  this  end  bestoweth  his  benefytes,  I 
saye  he  dofh  not  otjely  deserue  notes  to  be  accompteU  liberal!, 
but  rather  an  euill  Datured  B^gard^ 


5[  The.  Clergy  in  their  Colovrs;  or  a  brief  character  of 
them.  Written  from  a  hearty  desire  of  their  Refor- 
mation, and  great  Zeal  for  my  Countreymen,  that 
they  may  no  longer  he  deceived  by  such  as  call  them- 
selves the  Ministers  of  the  Gospel,  but  are  not.  By 
John  Fry,  a  Member  of  the  Parliament  of  England, 
S^c.  &c.  &c.  London:  Printed  for  Giles  Calvert, 
at  theBlache.  Spread  Eagle  at  the  tVest  end  of  Pauls. 
1650.  pp.  68.  i8mo. 

The  author  of  this  curious  tract  was  one  of  the  judges 
oT  Charles  1st.,  but  did  not  sign  the  warrant  for  the  Mo- 
narch's decapitation.  Wood  styles  him  "a  man  of  mote 
than  ordinary  paiFtSj"  Noble;  "  this  gentleman  had  great 

abilities." 


158 

abilities."  The  present  pamphlet  was  ordered  by  the 
ruling  powers  to  be  burnt  by  the  Sheriffs  of  London  and 
Middlesex,  together  with  another  entitled  "  The  Accuser 
ashamed  :  or  a  pair  of  Bellows  to  blow  off  the  dust  cast 
upon  lohn  Fry,  a  Member  of  Parliament,  by  Col.  lo. 
Downes."  London,  Feb,  1648.  8vo.  He  was  the  re- 
presentative of  an  ancient  family,  who' were  seated  in 
Devonshire  as  early  as  1297.  Yartie  house,  the  family 
mansion,  was  in  their  possession  from  the  reign  of 
Richard  IL  until  the  last  century,  when  it  passed  by 
marriage  to  Lord  King.  Any  extracts  from  the  present 
work  will  be  needless,  as  a  select  impression  of  both  the 
tracts,  with  memoirs  of  the  author,  is  about  to  be  printed 
for  private  distribution. 

Bristol,  1810.  J.  F. 


%  Old  Musical  Airs. 


"  See  where  my  loiie  a  Maying  goes. 

With  sweet  dame  Flora  sporting : 
She  most  alone  with  nightingales 

In  woods  delights  consorting: 
Tume,  turne  againe  my  dearest. 

The  pleasanst  ayre's  in  meadows. 
Els  by  the  riuers  let  us  breathe,. 

And  kisse  amongst  the  willowes. 


*  Cant'us.  The  first  set  of  Madrigals  and  Pastorals  of  %.  ^.  and  i. 
parts.  Neixjly  composed  by  Francis  PUkhgtOn,  Batchebr  of  Musicif 
and  Lutenist,  and  one  of  the  Cathedrall  Church  of  Christ  and  blessed 
Mary  the  virgin  in  Chester.  London:  printed  for  M.  L.  I.E.  and 
T.  S.  the  Assignes  ofW.  Barley.  i6iz.  In  the  dedication  to  "  Sir 
Tlioraas  Smith  of  Hough,  in  the  Countie  of  Chester,  Knight." 
Pilkington  says  of  musick,  that  "  God  to  his  great  gloiy,  doth 
diuersly  and  wonderfully  enable  his  creatures  thereunto,  teaching 
man  vpoix  earth,  not  onely  in  mellifluous  notes  to, chant,  but  also 
vpon  variety  of  instruments  sweetly  to  expresse  the  hidden  secrets 
of  that  sacred  licence,  and  not  leaning  the  vast  ayre  empty  of  his 
glory ;  he  instructeth  the  early  larke  to  warble  forth  his  prayse, 
who,  (as  some  hould)  learneth  his  layes  from  the  musical!  motions 

of 


159 


stay,  nimph,  O  stay,  the  ground  seekes  out  to  kisse  thy 
Harke,  harke  how  Philomela  sweetly  sings  [feetj 

Whilst  wanton,  wanton  fishes  as  they  meete 

Sticke  crochet  time  amidst  these  christali  springs/ 
And  Zephirus  'mongst  the  leaues  sweet  murmurings : 

Stay  but  awhile,  Phosbe  no  tel  tale  is. 

She  her  Endimion,  lie  my  Phcebe  kisse. 


Amintas  with  his  Phillis  faire. 
In  height  oi  bummer's  sunne 

Gaz'd  arme  in  armej  their  snowie  flocke 
And  scorching  heate  to.shunne, 
Vnder  a  spreading  elme  sat  downe 
Where  loues  delightments  done : 
Thus  did  they  sing,  there  is  no  life  like  ours. 
No  heau'n  on  earth  to  shepherds  eels,  no  hell  to 
Downe  dillie,  downe.         [princely  bow'rs : 

iv. 

The  messenger  of  the  delightfull  spring. 

The  cuckoo,  proud  bird,  mocking  man ! 
On  lofty  okes  and  eu'ry  vnder-spring. 

To  chant  out  cuckow  scarse  began  j 

When  as  Menalcas,  soote  as  swanne. 
His  winter  cloake  cast  off,  did  nimbly  spring. 
And  as  the  cuckoo  cuck  did  sing, 

The  shepherd's  downe  a  downe  was  farra  diddle  dan. 


Haue  I  found  her  ?  Oh  rich  finding, 
Goddesse  like  for  to  behold ; 

Her  faire  tresses  seemely  binding. 
In  a  chaine  of  pearle  and  gold : 

Chaine  mee,  chaine  mee,  oh  most  faire, 

Chaine  mee  to  thee  with  that  haire. 


of  the  heauenly  spheares,  and  from  thence  to  transcend  vp  to  the 
seat  of  the  most  highest  the  elected  saints  and  angels  doe  in 
heauenly  hirames,  sing  perpetually  Te  Deum  to  the  Holy  Trinitie, 
sitting  on  the  throne  of  the  most  maiesticke  glorie."  Dated 
«  from  my  mansion  in  the  monastery  of  Chester,  the  35  day  of 
September,  16 1 2."     Contains  xxii  pieces. 

vi   ' 


l6o 

vi. 

What  though  her  frownes  and  hard  intreaties  kill, 
I  will  not  cease  to  loue,  affect  her  still: 
Still  will  I  loue  her  beautie  hate  her  scorne, 
Loue  her  for  beautie  at  her  beauties  morne. 
vii. 

Vndp.r  the  tops  of  Helicon, 

Not  farre  from  Parnasse  stately  towers. 
Springs  forth  the  fountairle  Hippocrene, 
With  bankes  beset  with  fragrant  flowers : 
The  hill  it  is  my  Muses  vse. 
The  fountaine  which  ray  hart  doth  chuse.  ' 

viii. 

My  hart  is  dead  within  me. 
For  that  my  loue  forsakes  me ; 
Yet  why  should  I  shed  tears  in  vaine  ? 
She  wil  not  once  respect  my  paine ; 
In  hope  to  cast  a  better  chance, 
I  therefore  will  ioy  siiig  and  dance. 

is.  * 

Yond  hill  tops  Phoebus  kisjt  at  his  last  flight's  farewell. 
This  morne  the  same  he  blist,  in  homage  to  her  cell  : 
'I'he  nymphs  and  wood-gods  cry'd.  Lord  Phoebus  goe  your 
We  her,  she  vs  will  haue,  you  are  too  hot  to  play,    [way. 


*  Cant'os:  'The  second  set  of  Madrigal;  and  Pastorals  i  apt  for 
VioUs  and  Voyces,  ne'wly  composed  by  Francis  Piliington,  Batchelar  of 
Musicke,  and  Lutenist,  andChaunter  of  the  Cathedr all  Church  of  Christ 
and  blessed  Mary  the  Virgin,  in  Chester.  London,  printed  by  "Thomas 
Snodham,  for  M.  L.  andA.B.  1614.  Dedicated  by  Pilkington  to 
"  Sir  Peter  Leighe  of  Lyme  Knight,"  as  the  frijit  of  his  "  now  - 
aged  Muse."  In  a  sannet  to  his  "  approoued  friend  Master  Fran- 
cis Pilkington,  William  Webbe  enquires 

must  the  matchless  excellencies 

Of  Bird,  Bull,  Dowiand,  Morley,  and  the  rest 

Of  our  rare  artists  (who  now  dim  the  lights 
Of  other  lands)  be  onely  in  request  ? 

ThyseHe,  and  others,  loosing  your  due  rights 
To  higb  Desert :-— - — > 

And  Henry  HacpBf,  in  another  sonnet,  proclaims 

Art's  praise  and  skill's  high  pitch,  are  not  so  tyed' 

To  bankes  of  Po,  or  siluer  Thames  (we  see) 
But  Joue's  faire  bird  may  haunt  fine  streames  beside. 
And  chjiunt  sweet  layes  on  brinkes  of  antique  Dee, 

Old 


i6i 

Ye  bublirig  springs  that  gentle  musicke  makes. 
To  louers  plaints  with  heart-sore  throbs  inmixt  j 

When  as  my  deare  her  pleasure  takes, 

Tell  her  with  tearfes  how  fifme  rrty  ^bns  is  ilxts  , 
And  Philofliell  report  my  timerous  feates 
Sound,  sound  rny  highoes  in  her  eares' : 
But  if  she  aske  if  I  for  loue  will  dye, 
'    Tell  her  good  faith,  not  I. 

ii. 

Your  fond  preferments  are  but  children's  toys, 
And  as  a  shadow  all  your  pleasures  passe; 

As  yeares  increase  sowaining  afeyour  ioyes. 
Your  blisse  is  brittle  like  a  broken  glasse  : 

Death  is  the  salue  that  ceaseth  all  anoy. 

Death  is  the  port  by  which  We  saile  to  ioy. 

xii.  (First  part.) 
Coy  Daphne  fled  from  Phoebus  hot  pursuite, 

Carelpss  of  passion,  senceless  of  remorse : 
Whilst  he  complain'd  his  gi-iefes  she  rested  mule. 

He  beg'd  her  stay,  she  still  kept  on,  her  course  j 
But  what  reward  she  had  for  this  you  see. 
She  rest  trarisform'd  a  winter-beaten  tree. 

xiii.  (Second part.) 
Chaste  Daphne  fl.ed  from  Phoebus  hot  pufsuite. 

Knowing  mens  passions,  idle  and  of  course: 
And  though  he  plain'd,  'twas  fit  she  should  be  -route. 

And  honour  would  she  should  keep  on  her  course  : 
Por  whjch  faire  deed  her  glory  still  we  see. 
She  rests  still  greene,  and  so  wish  I  to  bee< 

xiv. 

You  gentle  nymphs  that  on  these  meadowes  play. 
And  oft  n-late  the  loues  of  shepheards  young  ; 

Come,  sit  you  downe,  for  if  you  please  to  stay. 
Now  may  you  lieare  an  vncouth  passion  song: 

A  lad  there  is,  and  I  am  that  poore  groome. 

That's  falne  in  loue  and  cannot  tell  with  whom. 

Old  Chester  is  not  so  with  Eld  ore-laine, 

That  where  contention  is  forpraise,  shce  theflv 

Should  not  her  old-borne  title  still  maintaine, 
And  put  in,  for  her  claime  to  chiefe  of  men.- 


Cotitains  xxvi  Songs,  and  "  a  pauin  made  for  theOrpliarion  by 
the  Right  Honorable  William'  Eaile  of  Darbie,- and  by  him  con- 
sented to  be  in  my  bookes  placed/  *, 

VOh.   11,  M 


l62 

XV. 

Crowned  with  flowers,  I  saw  faire  Amarillis,     , 
By  Thir&ia  sit,  hard  by  a  fount  of  christall; 

And  with  her  hand,  more  white  than  snow  or  Wks, 
On  sand  she  wrote,  my  faith  shall  be  immortall : 

But  sodainely  a  storme  of  winde  and  weathe»^ 

Blue  allher  faith  and  sand  away  together. 

xvi. 
Goe  you  skipping  hids  aod  fawnes. 

Exercise  your  swift  carriere; 
Ouer  pleasant  fields  and  lawnes. 

Rousing  vp  the  fearefull' deere  : 
Greet  them  all  with  what  I  sing, 
Endlesseloue  eternizing."  J.  H. 


"I  Ohiectorum  Redv-ctio:  or  daily  Imploj/ment  for  the 
Soule.  In  Occasional  Meditations  upon  severall  sub- 
jects. By  Donald  Luplon.  i  Tim.  iv.  14.  Despise 
not  the  guift  that  is '  in  thee.  London :  Printed  by 
John  Norton,  for  John  Rothwell,  at  the  signs  of  the 
Sunne,  in  Pauls  Church-yard,  1(534.  i^xao,  pp.  158. 

^  England's  Command  on  the  Seas,  or  the  English 
Seas  gtcanrded.  Wherein  is  proved,  that  as  the  Vene- 
tians, Portugals,  Spaiiiardf,  French,  Danes,  Polands,. 
Turks,  the  Dvke  of  Tuscany,  and  the  Popes  of  Rome 
have  dominion  on  their  Seas ;  so  the  Commonwealth 
of  England  hath  on  our  Seas.  Wlicrein  the  Dutch 
unjust  procuration  and  prosecutiim  of  IVar  against 
England  is  also  described.  Lucan  de  Bella  Civili 
Pkars.  4.     Sic  Feitetus  stagnanie  Pado,  fusoq;  Bri- 

tannus  Navigat  Oceano that  is 

Fenice  her  gulf,  and  river  Po  doth  keep: 
The  English  on  the  ocean  vast  and  deep — 
London:  Printed  for  Jos.  Black-lock  in  Ivie  lane, 
next  doore  to  the  signe  of  the  Acorne.  1653.  241110. 
pp.  106. 

The  latter  of  these  pieces^  from  its  subject  matter,  is^ 
at  tHe  present  epoch,  peculiarly  interesting.  It  is  dedi- 
Gated  to  "  The  Right  Honourable  the  Council  of  State," 
"  your  Honour's  Servant,  D6nakl  Luplon."  'l^he  fol- 
lowing extracts  will  suffice.     Page  22. 

«  There 


163 

"  There  is  not  any  nation  who  seems  so  stout  to  defend 
their  sea  right  as  the  French  j  yet  they,  of  all  others,  have 
lest  performed  It;  for  during  not  only  the  wars,  but  the  time' 
of  the  Soveraignty  of  the  Kings  of  England  in  that  nation: 
the  French  who  could  not,  nor  durst  -fight  us  at  land,  had  lesse 
power  and  will  to  affront  us  at  sea." — Page  40.  "  Briefly, 
though  wee  think  it  is  Jitter  for  the  See  of  Rome  to  save  men's 
souls  if  they  be  Peter's  successors,  then  to  lord  it  so  mightily 
either  by  sea  or  land,  yet  that  the  world  «ay  see  his  jurisdic- 
tion ,aiid  power  at  sea  in  the  Rounane  sea  belpnging  to  Rome, 
we  will  give  you  some  espressjons  of  his  to  set  forth  his  lofty 
mind.  Barth.  Fgolinus  de  Censuris  Pont  reserv.  part.  2. 
sect.  1.  Evscommunicamus  £5*  Anathematixawus  onines  piralas 
Cursarios  ac  Latruncuhi  Maritimos  discurrenles  Mare  7ioslrv.m 
(that  is)  we  excomtnunicate  and  curse  all  pirates,  sea  rovers 
and  thieves,  whomsoever  that  shall  hover  on  or  rove  on  our  seas, 
and  if  any  take  any  herrings  upon  any  holy  day,  they  shall 
and  must  pay  some  to  the  next  churches,  and  specially  to 
those  churches  which  ly  nearest  to  that  place  where  they  took 
them.     Gkss.  3  tit.  deferiis." 

The  work  concludes  with 

"  Braue  England  liaue  a  care  thy  seas  to  defend. 

Thou  need'st  not  fear  whether  Dutch  be   thy  foe  or 
friend." 

The  Ohjectorwm  Reduclio  is  inscribed  to  "  the  Right 
Honourable  Lord  George  Earle  of  Rutland,  Baron  Hops 
of  Hamelake,  Belvoir,  and  Trusbutt,  encreass  of  honour, 
and  happines,  temporaJl,  and  eternal!."  There  are  in 
the  whole  fifty-nine  short  meditations,  distinguished  by 
good  sense,  but  the  book  is  not  sufficiently  rare  to  allow 
of  any  extracts. 

Bristol,  18] 0.  J.  F. 


^  Specimens  qfSougs  ly  Dramatic  Writers. 

Though  music  formed  a  favourite  science  with  our 
ancestors,  it  was  long  before  a  vocal  character  appears  to 
have  been  received  ufMJn  the  stage.  In  old  pla^ys  may  be 
found;  instances  of  "enter  Music  with  a  song,"  and  the 
words  omitted,  which  was  ^robalily^  some  popular  air 
adopted  for  the  occasion.  In  the  Two  Italian  Genile- 
mejiy  at  cooclusiGkB  of ;first  act,  "the  consorte  of  musiqus 

N   2  soundeth 


164 

soundeth  a  pleasant  galliard ;"  end  of  the  second,  "  the 
consorte  soiindeth again;"  the  third,  "sounds a sollemne 
dump;"  and  after  the  fourth,  "  soundeth  a  pleasant  alle- 
maigne ;"  it  may  therefore  be  presumed  a  musical  comedy, 
but  there  are  only  two  short  songs  characteiistically  in- 
troduced. I  believe  the  earliest  vocal  character,  generally 
sanciioned,  was  that  of  Valerius,  the  merry  Lord  inHey- 
wood's  Rape  of  Lucrece,  and  the  author  sought,  from 
time  to  time,  to  fix  it  firmer  in  public  favour  by  the 
novelty  of  additional  songs.  The  first  edition  of  this  play, 
1608, contains  twelve  songs;  the  fourth  impre?sion,  1630, 
has  fifteen  songs;  the  fifth,  1638,  says  "  sundry  songs, 
before  omitted,  now  inserted  in  their  right  places;"  and 
contains  the  words  of  twenty  musical  airs.  Sir  Wil- 
liam D'Avenant  appears  to  have  first  introduced  operatical 
pieces. 

1.* 
"  If  looue  be  like  the  flower  that  in  the  night. 
When  darknes  drownes  the  glory  of  the  skyes: 
Smelles  sweet,  and  glitters  in  the  gazers  sight. 
But  when  the  gladsom  sun  beginnes  to  rise, 
•  And  he  that  viewes  it  would  the  same  imbrace, 
It  withereth,  and  looseth  all  his  grace. 
Why  doo  I  looue  and  like  the  cursed  tree. 
Whose  buddes  appeer,  but  fruite  will  net  be  seen : 
Why  doo  I  languish  for  the  flower  I  see  ? 
Whose  root  is  rot  when  all  the  leaues  are  green. 
In  such  a  case  it  is  a  point  of  skill. 
To  ioilowe  chaunce,  and  looue  against  my^will. 

2.t 

Health,  fortune,  mirth,  and  wine. 

To  thee  my  loue  deuine, 

I  drinke  to  my  dareling. 

GiQe  nve  thy  hand  sweeting: 

With  cuppe  full,  euer  plyed, 

Andhartes  full.neaer'dryed; 

Mine  owne,  mine  owne  dearest  sweeting. 

Oh,  oh  !  myne  owne  dearest  sweeting. 

■i.  + 
Fortune  smiles,  ciy  holy  day. 
Dimples  on  her  cheekes  doe  dwell, 

*  From  the  Pleasaunt  and  fine  conceited  comcedie  of  two  Italian 
Gentleinen:,  &c.  " 
t  Blinde  begger  of  Alexandria,  by  George  Chapman,  1598.    . 
X  old  Fortunatus  by,T.  Decker,  1600. 

Fortune 


i65 

Fortune  frownes,  cry  wellada. 

Her  loue  is  heauen,  her  hate  Is  hell. 
Since  heauen  and  hell  obey  her  power. 
Tremble  when  her  eyes  doe  lowre; 
Since  heauen  and  hell  her  power  obey. 
When  shee  smiles,  crie  holy  day. 

Holy-day  with  ioy  we  cry. 

And  bend,  and  bend,  and  merily. 

Sing  bymnes  to  Fortune's  deitie. 

Sing  hymnes  to  Fortune's  deitie. 
{Cho.)  Let'vs  sing,  merrily,  merrily,  merrily, 
With  our  song  let  heanen  resound, 
Fortune's  hands  our  heads  haue  crown'd, 
Let'vs  sing  merrily,  merrily,  merrily. 

4.* 

Art  thou  poore  yel  hast  thou  golden  slumbers  ? 

,    ■       Oh,  sweet  content! 
Art  thou  rich  yet  is  thy  minde  perplex'd  ? 

Oh,  punishment ! 
Dost  thou  laugh  to  see  how  fooles'  are  vexed  ? 
To  ad  to  golden  numbets,  golden  numbers, 
O  sweet  content,  O  sweet,  &c. 
Worke  apace,  apace,  apace,  apace  ; 
Honest  labour  beares  a  louely  face. 

Then  hey  noney,  noney :  hey  noney,  noney. 

Canst  drlnke  the  waters  of  the  crisped  spring, 

O,  sweet  contentN! 
Swim'st  thou  in  wealth,  yet  sinck'st  in  thine,  owne  teares, 

O,  punishment. 
Then  hee  that  patiently  wants,  burden  beares  j 
No  burden  beares  but  is  a  King,  a  King  ? 

O  sweet  content,  &c. 
Worke  apace,  apace,  &c. 

5. 

Golden  slumbers  kisse  your  eyes, 
Smiles  awake  you  when  you  rise; 
Sleepe  pretty  wantons,  doe  not  cry. 
And  I  will  sing  a  luUabie, 
Rocke  them,  rocke  theni,  luUabie  1 

*  The  pleasant  comasdie  of  Patient  Grissill,  -1603 — On  the 
title,  ill  very  old  writing,  is  ''  By  H.  Chetill ;"  so  in  f>art  the 
H.en'ilowe  paptrs,  where  it  is  attributed  to  "  Thomas  Dekker, 
Henry  Chettle,  and  William  Haughton."  Shak'pear^'s  Works, 
tii.  1803,  Vol.  iii.  p.  381. 

M  3  Care 


1 66 

Care  is  heauy  therefore  sleepe  you. 
You  are  care  and  care  must  keep  you : 
Sleepe  pretty  warrtons,  doe  not  cry. 
And  I  will  sing  a  lullabie : 
Rocke  them,  rocke  them,  lullabie  ! 

6.* 

Musick,  tobacco,  sack  and  sleepe. 

The  tide  of  Sorrow  backward  keepe. 

If  thoQ  art  sad  at  others  fate, 

Riuo,  drinke  deepe,  giue  care  the  mate. 

On  vs  the  end  of  time  is  come. 

Fond  feare  of  that  we  cannot  shun. 

Whilst  quickest  sence  doth  freshly  last. 

Clip  time  aboute,  hug  pleasure  fast. 

The  Sisters  rauell  out  our  twine. 

He  that  knows  little  's  most  deuine. 

Error  deludes;  whole  beate  this  hence, 

Naughtes  knowne  but  by  exterior  sence. 

Let  glory  bjason  others  deede. 

My  blpud  then  breath  craues  better  meede. 

Let  twattling  fame  cheat  others  rest, 

I  am  no  dish  for  Rumor's  feast : 

Let  honor  others  hope  abuse. 

He  nothing  haue,  so  nought  will  loose : 

Jle  striue  to  be  nor  great,  nor  small. 

To  liue  to  die,  fate  helmeth  all : 

When  I  can  breath  no  longer,  then, 

Heauen  take  all,  there  put  amen. 

7-f 
Peace,  peace,  peace,  make  no  noyse. 

Pleasure  and  feare  lie  sleeping  ? 
End,  end,  end  your  idle  tpyes, 

lealous  eies  will  be  peeping: 
Kisse,  kisse  and  part,  though  ijot  for  hate  for  pittie. 
Ha  done,  ha  done,  ha  done  5  for  1  ha  done  my  dittic. 

When  Tarquin  first  in  cotjrt  began. 

And  was  approued  King, 
Some  men  for  soddeja  ioy  gan  we.epe, 
■    And  I  for  sorrow  sing.  • 

*  What  yov  will,  by  lohn  Marston,  1607. 
f  Humour  out  of  breath,  by  lohn  Day,  1608. 
t  The  Rape  of  Lvcrece,  a  true  Roman  tragedie,  with  the  seue- 
rall  songes  in  theirapt  places,  by  Valerius,  the  merrie  lord  amongst 
tj)c  Roman  jPeeres;  by  Thomas  ijeywood,  1608,, 


i6y 

9- 

Now  what  is  loue  I  pray  thee  tell. 

It  is  the  fountaine  and  the  well. 

Where  pleasure  and  repentance  dwell. 

It  is  perhaps  the  sansing  bell. 

That  rings  all  in  to  heauen  or  hell: 

And  this  is  lo'ue,  and  this  is  loue,  as  I  hearc  tell.  . 

Now  what  is  loue  I  pray  you  shew, 
A  thing  that  creepes  and  cannot  goe: 
A  prise  that  passeth  to  and  fro,* 
A  thing  for  me,  a  thing  for  moe, 
And  he  that  proues  shall  find  it  so. 
And  this  is  loue,  and  this  is  loue,  sweet 
friends  1  tro.f 

10.  X    The  Vlafst's  Song. 
Tlie  nut-brown  ale,  the  nut-brown  ale. 
Puts  downe  all  drinke  when  it  is  stale. 
The  toast,  the  nut-meg,  and  the  ginger. 
Will  make  a  sighing  man  a  singer. 
'Ale  giues  a  buffet  in  the  head, 
But  ginger  vnderproppes  the  braynej 
When  ale  would  strike  a  strong  man  dead, 
Then  nut-raegge  tempers  it  againe. 
The  nut-brown  ale,  the  nnt-brown  ale. 
Puts  downe  all  drinke  when  it  is  stale. 

IJ.  The  [Poet's]  song  extempore. 
Giue  your  SchoUer  degrees,  and  your  Lawyer  his  fees. 

And  some  dice  for  Sir  Petronell  flash  : 
Giue  your  Courtier  grace,  and  your  Knight  a  new  case. 

And  empty  their  purses  of  cash. 

'     Giue  your  play-gull  a  stoole,  and  my  Lady  liei'  foole. 
And  her  vgher  potatoes  and  marrow, 
But  your  Poet  were  he  dead,  set  a  pot  on  his  head. 
And  he  rises  as  peart  as  a  sparrow, 

*  I  suppose  the  edition  of  1630  omitted  this  Jine.  Ste  Anec- 
dotes of  Literature,  Vol.  II.  p.  36. 

t  These  lines  form  the  first  and  last  stanzas  of  "  the  Shepheards 
description  of  Loue,"  in  Engla7id''s  Helicon  :  one  of  the  poems  of 
which  the  original  signature  (in  tht  first  edition)  '■'  S.  W.  R."  had, 
after  printing,  the  word  t^nOtu  pasted  over  it.  Though  Heywood, 
at  the  enii  of  his  play,  tenaciously  gives  songs  "which  wereadded 
by  the  Strsnger,"  that  acted  Valerius  ;  still  it  requires  further  au- 
thority before  the  poems  thus  subscribed  can  be  presumptivtly 
given  to  him. 

X  Histrio-mastix,  or  the  Player  whipt.  1610. 

M  4  O  delicate 


i68 

O  delicate  wine  with  thy  power  diiiine. 

Full  of  rauishing  sweete  inspiration. 
Yet  a  verse  may  runne  cleare  that  is  tapt  out  of  beare. 

Especially  in  the  vacation. 
But  when  the  terme  comes,  that  with  trumpets  and  drumes. 

Pur  play-houses  ringe  in  confusion  : 
Tlien  Bacchus  me  murder,  but  rime  we  no  further. 

Some  sacks  now,  vpon  the  conclusion; 

12.  Players  sing. 
Some  vp  and  some  downe  ther's  players  In  the  towns. 

You  wot  well  who  they  bee ; 
The  suune  doth  arise  to  three  companies. 

One,  two,  three,  fonre,  make  wee. 
Besides  we  that  trauell,  with  pumps  full  of  grauell. 

Made  all  of  such  running  leather:, 
That  once  in  a  weeke,  new  maisters  wee  seeke. 
And  neuer  can  hold  together. 

13.  The  [bridall]  Song.* 
They  that  for  worldly  wealth  do  wed. 
That  buy  and  sell  the  marriage  bed; 
That  come  not  warm'd  with  the  true  fire, 
Resolu'd  to  keep  this  vow  entire  j 
'    To  scone  finde  discpntent, 
To  soone'shali  they  repent. 

But  Hynien  these  are  no  such  Ipuers, 
Which  thy  burning  torch  discouers  : 
Though  they  Hue  then  many  a  yeare. 
Let  each  day  as  new  appears. 

As  this  first ;  and  delights 

Make  of  all  bridall  rights: 
lo!  Hymen  giue  consent. 
Blessed  are  the  marriages  that  nere  repent. 

14.+.  [Golden  Age.] 
Haile  beauteous  Dian,  Queene  of'sbadeB, 
That  dwels  beneath  these  shadowie  glades, 
Mistresse  of  all  those  beauteous  maids. 

That  are  by  her  3llowed. 
Virginuie  we  all  professe, 
Abiure  the  woildlie  vaine  excesse, 
Apd  will  to  Dyiin  yeeld  no  lesse 

Then  We  to  her  haue  vowed. 
The  Shepheards,  Satirs,  Nimphs,  and  Fawnes, 
For  thee  will  irippe  it  ore  the  lawnes. 

-•  A  Woman  is  a  Weather-cocke,  by  Nat.  Field.  t6ii. 
f  I'he  Golden  age,  by  T.  P^eywood,  i6ii. 

Cornp 


1^9 

Come  to  the  forrest,  let  vs  gde. 
And  trip  it  like  Ibe  barren  doe. 
The  fawnes  and  satirs  still  do  so. 

And  freelie  thus  they  may  do. 
The  fairies  daunce  and  satirs  sing. 
And  on  the  grasse  tread  manie  a  ring. 
And  to  their  caues  their  ven'son  bring. 

And  we  will  do  as  they  do. 
The  Shepheards,  &c. 

Our  food  is  honie  from  the  bees, 

And  mellow  fruits  that  drop  from  trees, 

In  chace  we  clime  the  high  degrees 

Of  etierie  sleepie  mountaine. 
And  when  the  wearie  day  is  past. 
We  at  the  eueping  hie  vs  fast, 
Apd  after  this  our  field  repast. 

We  drinke  the  pleasant  fountaine. 
The  Shepheaids,  &c. 

15,'*   [Silver  Age,] 
With  faire  Ceres  queehe  of  graine. 
The  reaped  fields  we  rome,  rome,  rofne. 
Each  countrey  peas3nt,  nimph,  and  swaiae, 
^ing  their  baruest  home,  home,  home, 

Whilst  the  Queene  of  plenty  hallowes. 

Growing  field  as  well  as  fallowes, 

Eccho  double  all  our  layes 
Make  the  champians  sound,  sound,  sound. 
To  the  Queene  of  haruesl  praise 
That  gowes  and  reapes  our  ground,  ground,  grouiid: 
Ceres  queene  of  plenty  hallowes,  &c. 

Tempests  hence,  hence  winds  and  hailes. 
Tares,  cockle,  rotten  showers,  showers,  showers : 
Our  song  shall  keep  time  with  our  flailes : 
When  Ceres  sings,  none  lowers,  lowers,  lowers. 

She  it  is  whose  God-hood  hallowes,  Src. 

16.  t 
Delicious  bea^tie  that  doth  lye 
Wrapt  in  a  skin  of  iuorje. 
Lye  stilly  lye  still  vpon  thy  backe. 
And  fancie  let  no  sweet  dreames  lacke 
To  tickle  her,  to  tickle  her  with  pleasing  thoughts. 

But  if  thy  eyes  are  open  fiall. 
Then  daine  to  view  an  honest' gull, 

»  The  Silver  Age,  by  T.  Heyycood,  t6i;. 
f  |acke  Drvms  Eniertaiiiement,  cU.  i6i6 


That  stands,  that  stands,  expecting  still 
When  that  thy  casement  open  will,  [glance. 

And  blesse  his  eyes,  and  blesse  his  eyes  with  one  kind 

17.  *     The  first  Three-mans  song. 
O  the  month  of  May,  the  merry  month  of  May, 
So  frolicke,  so  gay,  and  so  greene,  so  greene,  so  greene. 
Arid  then  did  I,  vnto  my  true  lone  say. 
Sweet  Peg,  thou  shalt  be  my  Summer's  Queene. 
Now  the  nightingale,  the  pretty  nightingale, 
T'he  sweetest  singer  in  all  the  forrest  quier  ; 
Intreates  thee  sweet  Peggy  to  hearc  thy  true-loues  tale, 
Loe  yonder  she  sitteth  her  breast  against  a  brier. 

'    But  O  I  spye  the  cuckoo,  the  cuckoo,  the  cuckoo. 
See  where  she  sitteth,  come  away  my  ioy : 
Come  away  I  prethee,  I  doe  not  like  the  cuckoo 
Should  sing  when  my  Peggy  and  I  kisse  and  toy. 
O  the  month,  &c. 
18.     The  second  Three-mans  song. 
Cold's  the  winde,  and  wet's  the  raine. 

Saint  Hugh  be  our  good  speed ; 
111  is  the  weather  that  bringeth  no  gainte. 
Nor  helpes  good  hearts  in  need. 

Trowle  the  bowle  the  iolly  nut-brownc  bowle, 

And  heere  kind  mate  to  thee  : 
Let's  sing  a  dirge  for  Saint  Hugh's  soule. 

And  downe  it  merily. 

Downe  a  Downe,  hey  downe  a  downe, 

hey  dery,  dery,  downe,  a  downe. 

Close  with  the  tenor  boy.     (Spoke.) 
Hoe  well  done,  to  me  let  come, 

ring  compasse  gentle  ioy. 
Trowle  the  bowle,  the  nut  browne  bowle. 

And  heere  kind,  &c.  as  often  as  there  be  men  to 
At  last,  when  ail  haue  drurike,  this  verse.      [dtinke; 

[Stage  uirectiqn.} 
Cold  s  the  winde,  and  wet's  the  raine. 

Saint  Hugh  be  our  good  speed; 
111  is  the  weather  that  bringeth  no  gaine. 

Nor  helpes  good  hearts  in  need. 

19- 1 
Kfng  Richard's  gone  to  Walsingham,  to  the  holy  land 
To  kill  Turke  and  Sarasen,  that  the  truth  doe  withstand; 

*  Shoemakers  Holy-day,  or  the  Gentle  Craft,  ed.  i6ig. 
t  The  Weakest  goetii  to  the  Wall.  cd.  i6iZ. 

Christ  ■ 


I /I 

Christ  his  crosse  be  his  good  speed  %  Christ,  his  foeS  to  quell, 
Send  him  helpe  in  time  of  need^  aud  to  come  home  well. 

20.* 
Rise  Ladie,  mistresse  rise. 

The  night  hath  tedious  beenft, 
No  sleeps  hath  fallen  into  my  eies. 

Nor  slumbers  made  me  sinne : 
Is  not  she  a  saint  then  say. 
Thought  of  whom  keepes  sinne  away  f  ■ 

Rise  MadamCj  rise  and  gtue  me  light. 

Whom  darkenesse  still  wiU  couer. 
And  ignorance  darker  than  night. 

Till  thou  smile  on  thy  louer: 
All  want  day  till  thy  beautie  rise. 
For  the  graie  morne  breakesfrom  thine  eies. 

21.  t  A  Song  in  parts. 
Whilst  wee  sing  the  dokfull  kne|J, 
Of  this  Princesse  passing-bell. 
Let  the  woods  and  valleys  ring 
Ecchoes  to  our  sorrowing. 
And  the  tenor  of  their  song. 
Be  ding  dong,  ding,  dong,  dong, 
Diijg,  dong,  dong,  ding,  dong. 

Nature  now  shall  boast  no  more 

Of  the  riches  of  her  store. 

Since  in  this  her  chiefest  prize. 

All  the  stocke  of  beautie  dies : 

Then  what  cruell  heart  can  long, 

Forbeare  to  sing  this  sad  ding  dong,  &c. 

Fawnes  and  siluans  of  the  woods, 

Nimphes  that  haunt  the  cristall  flouds, 

Sauage  beasts  more  milder  than 

The  vnrelenting  hearts  of  men. 

Be  partakers  of  our  mone. 

And  with  vs  sing  ding  dong,  ding  dong,  &c. 

22.  j 

Satyres  sing,  let  sorrow  keepe  her  cell. 
List  warbling  ecchoes  ring. 

And  sounding  rausicke  yell.  [kill. 

Through  hils,  through  dales,  sad  grief  and  care  to 
In  him  long  since,  alas,  hath  grieu'd  his  fill. 

•  Amends  for  Ladies,  by  Nat.  Field.  i6i8. 

^  Swetman  the  Woman-hater,  arraigned  by  Women.   i6zo. 

\  Wily  Begvilde,  ^5.  t5i3. 

Sleepe 


1/2 

Sle'epe  no  moie,  but  walke  and  liu^  content,' 
Thy  griefe  the  nymphes  deplore  j 

The  syluan  gods  lament 

To  heare,  to  see  thy  mone,  thy  losse,  thy  loue, 
Thy  piaints  to  teares,  the  flinty  rockes  doe  inoue. 

Grieue.Dot  then,  the  Queene  of  Loue  is  milde. 
She  sweetly  smiles  on  men. 

When  Reason's  mgst  beguild  j   _ ,  [faire : 

Her  lookes,  her  smiles  are  kinde,  are  sweet,  are 
Awake  therefore  and  sleepe  not  still  in  care. 

Loue  jntendes  to  free  thee  from  annoy. 
His  nymphes  Syluanus sends: 

To  bid  ihee  Hue  in  ioy. 

In  hope,  in  ioy,  sweet  loue  delights  imbrace  : 
Faire  Loue  her  selfe,  will  yeeld  thee  so  mucli  grace. 

23.* 
This  song  Is  sung  by  a  madman  to  a  dismall  kind  of  musique. 

0  let  vs  howle  some  heauy  note. 
Some  deadly-dogged  howle : 

Sounding  as  from  the'threatning  throat 

Ofbeastesand  fatall  fowle. 
As  rauens,  schrich-owles,  bulls  and  beares. 

We'll  bill  and  bawle  our  parts. 
Till  yerk-some  noyce  haue  cloy'd  your  eares^ 

And  corasiu'd  your  hearts. 
At  last  when  as  our  quire  wants  breath. 

Our  bodies  being  blest, 
We'lJ  sing  like  swans,  to  welcome  death, 

And  die  in  loue  and  rest. 

24.  t    [The  aged  Louer.] 
I,  I  ara  siluer  white,  so  is  thy  cheeke. 

Yet  who  for  whitenes  will  condemne  it? 
If  wrinkled,  or  if  thy  forehead  is  not  slceke. 

Yet  who  for  frowning  dare  contemne  it.* 
Boys  full  of  folly,  youth  of  rage. 
Both  but.  a  iourney  to  old  age. 

1  am  not  yet  fayre  Nymph  to  old  to  loue, 

And  yet  woemen  loue  old  loners ; 
Nor  yet  to  wauing  light,  as  false  to  prouc. 
Youth  a  foule  inside  faiiely  couers: 

•  Dvtchesse  of  Malfy,  by  lolm  Webster.   1613. 
I  Sicelides,  a  Piscatory,  by  Phineas  Fletcher.  16  31. 

Yet 


1 73 

Yet  when  my  light  is  in  the  wainc 
Thy  suunes  renew  my  spring  againe. 

25.  * 

The  Spanyard  loves  his  antient  slop, 

A  Lombard  the  Venetian ; 
And  some  like  breech-lesse  women  go. 

The  Rush,  Turke,  lew,  and  Grecian. 
The  thrifiie  Frenchman  weares  small  waste. 

The  Dutch  his  belly  boasteth; 
The  Englishman  is  for  them  all, 

And  for  each  fashion  coastcth.f 

The  Turke  in  linnen  wraps  his  head. 

The  Persian  his  in  lavvne  too. 
The  Rush  with  sables  furs  his  cap. 

And  change  will  not  be  drawne  too. 
The  Spanyard's  constant  to  his  block. 

The  French  inconstant  ever  j 
But  of  all  Felts,  that  may  be  felt, 

Give  me  the  English  beaver. 

The  German  loves  his  coony-wooU, 

The  Irish-man  his  shag  too; 
The  Welch  his  Monmouth  loves  to  weare. 

And  of  the  same  will  brag  too. 
Some  love'the  rough,  and  some  the  smooth. 

Some  great  and  other  small  things; 
But  O  your  lickorish  Englishman, 

He  loves  to  deale  in  all  things. 

The  Rush  drinkes  quafFe,  Dutch  lubecks  beere. 

And  that  is  strong  and  migbtie: 
The  Brittaine  he  Metheglen  quaffs. 

The  Irish  Aqua-vita, 

*  Challenge  for  Beavtie,  by  T.  Heywood,  1636. 

+,  Robert  Green,  in  the  following  passage  from  his  Fare'well  fs 
Tolly,  alludes  to  the  well-known  sign  of  Andrew  Boonl,  and  de- 
scribes the  universal  taste  of  his  countrymen  when  he  wrote,  in  re- 
spect to  dress.  "  Time  hath  brought  pride  to  such  perfection 
in  Italie,  that  we  are  almost  as  f.mtasticke  as  the  English'  Geiitle- 
man  that  is  painted  naked,  with  a  pai;e  of  sheeres  in,  his  hande,  as 
not  being  resolued  after  what  fashion  to  haue  his  coat  cut.  In 
truth,  quoth  Farneze,  to  digresse  a  little  from  your  iinatter,  I 
haue  seene  an  English  Gentleman  so  defused  in  his  sutes,  his 
doublet  being  for  the  weare  of  Castile,  his  hose  for  Venice,  his 
hat  for  France,  his  cloake  for  Gcrraanie,  that  he  seemed  no  way  to 
be  an  Englishman  but  by  the  face.",    C.  j  re'v. 

''      '  '  The 


174 

The  Frendi  affects  the  Orleans  grape. 

The  Spanyard  sips  his  sherry. 
The  English  none  of  these  can  scape. 

But  hee  with  all  makes  merry. 
The  Italian  in  her  high  chopeene> 

Scotch  lasse  and  lovely  Froe  too. 
The  Spanish  Donna,  French  Madam, 

He  doth  not  feare  to  goe  to. 
Nothing  so  full  of  hazard,  dread. 

Nought  Hues  above  the  center; 
No  health,  no  fashion,  wine  or  wench. 

On  which  he  dare  not  venter. 

26.* 

Beautie  no  more  the  sabject  be 

Of  wanton  art,  to  flatter  thee : 

Or  iri  dull  figures  call  thee  spring, 

Lillie  or  rose,  or  other  thing  : 

All  which  beneath  thee  are,  and  grow 

Into  contempt  when  thou  dost  show 

The  unmatch't  glory  of  thy  brow, 

(Chorus.)  Behold  a  spheare  of  virgins  move. 

None  'raongst  them  lesse  then  Queene  of  Lovi 
And  yet  their  Queene  so  farre  excels, 
'Beauiy  and  she  are  onely  parallels. 

29, 
On,  bravely  on  ;  the  foe  is  met ; 
The  souldiers  ranc'kt,  the  battaile  set. 
Make  the  earth  tremble,  and  the  skies 
Redouble  ecchoes  from  your  cryes : 
Bloud  puts  a  scarlet  mantle  on 
The  late  greene  plaine :  they'l  flie  anon. 

{Chorus.)  Then  follow,  but  your  orders  keepe  ; 

Take  prisoners,  set  their  ransomes  deepe : 
Retreat — for  fame,  and  the  dt-light 
That  peace  brings,  cnely,  souldiers  fight. 

28.  t 
Love's  farre  more  pow'rfull  than  a  King, 

And  wiser  then  most  statesmen  are : 
For  it  commands  him,  and  doth  spring 

In  them  strange  thoughts;  in  both  much  care 


"  Hannibal  and  Scipio,  by  Thomas  Nabbes,  1637. 
t  Landgartha,  by  Henry  Burnell,  Dublin,  1 6^1.1, 


(Beaide 


'^75 

(Beside  th' afFaires  o*  tb'  Common-wealth) 
To  crouch  and  to  obey.     Nay  more ; 
It  makes  'em  loose  all  joy  and  health. 

And  not  be  the  man  they  were  before  j 
Vntill  wise;  love,  all  pow'rfu)!  love, 
The  gracious  physitian  prove. 

29.  * 

How  blest  are  they  that  wasf  their  weary  bowers 
In  solemne  groves,  and  solitary  bowers. 
Where  neither  eye,  nor  eare. 
Can  see,  or  heare. 
The  frantique  mirth. 
And  false  delights  of  frolique  earth  j 

Where  they  may  sit,  and  pant. 
And  breathe  their  pursy  souls 
Where  neither  grief  consumes,  nor  griping  want 
Afflicts,  nor  sullen  care  conirouls. 
Away  false  joyes,  ye  murther  where  ye  kisse,i 
There  is  no  heav'n  to  that,  no  life  to  this. 

30.  t 

How  round  the  world  goes,  and  every  thing  that's  in  it. 
The  tydes  of  gold  and  silver,  ebb  and  flow  in  a  minute : 
From  the  usurei^  to  his  sons",  there  a  current  swiftly  runs. 
From  the  sons  to  queans  in  chief,  from  the  gallant  to  the  thief^ 
From  the  thief  unto  his  host,  from  the  host  to  husband-men,^ 
From  the  country  to  the  court,  and  so  it  comes  to  us  agen. 
How  round,  &c. 

To  these  extracts  may  be  added  the  following  poems 
on  Love,  Musick,  and  Death,  by  Phineas  Fletcher,  form- 
ing the  chorusses  to  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  acts  of 
the  Si  eel  ides. 

31, 

Loue  is  the  fire,  damme,  nurse  and  seeds 
Of  all  that  aire,  earth,  waters  breede  : 
All  these  earth,  water,  aire,  fire. 
Though  contraries,  in  loue  conspire. 
Fond  painters,  loue  is  not  a  lad, 
With  bow  and  shafts,  and  feathers  clad: 
As  he  is  fancied  in  the  braine 
Of  some  loose  louing  idle  swaine, 

*  The  Virgin  Widow,  by  Francis  Qgarles,  1649. 
+  The  Widdow,  by  lolinson,  Fletcher,  and  Middktan.  rfijs. 

Much 


Much  sooner  is  lie  felt  then  seene. 
His  substgnce  subtile,  slight  and  thinne, 
Oft  leapes  hee  from  the  glancing  e}'esy 
Oft  in  some  smooth  mount  he  lyes. 
Soonest  he  winnes,  the  fastest  flyes! 
Oft  lurkes  he  twixt  the  ruddy  lips, 
Thence,  while  the  heart  his  nectar  sips, 
Downe  to  the  soule  the  poyson  slips. 
Oft  in  a  voyce  creeps  down  the  eare, 
Oft  hides  his  darts  in  golden  haire. 
Oft  blushing  cheeks  do  light  his  fire[s,] 
Oft  in  a  smooth  soft  [s]kinne  retires. 
Often  in  smiles,  often  in  teares. 
His  flarriing  heate  ill  water  beares  ; 
When  nothing  else  kindles  desire, 
Enen^vertues  selfe  shall  blow  the  fire  i 
Loue  with  thousand  darts  abounds. 
Surest  and  deepest  vertue  Wounds: 
Oft  biraselfe  becomes  a  dart. 
And  loue  with  loue,  doth  loue  impart. 
'  Thou  painfull  pleasure,  pleasing  painp. 
Thou  gainefull  life  thou  losing  gaine : 
Thou  bitter  sweete,  easing  disease. 
How  doest  thou  by  displeasing  ]>lease  ? 
How  doest  thou  thus  bewitch  the  heart. 
To  loue  in  bate,  to  ioy  in  smart: 
Tothinke  it  selfe  most  bound,  when  free. 
And  freest  in  his  slauery. 
Euery  creature  is  thy  debter. 
None  but  loues,  some  worse,  some  better  r 
Onely  in  lone,  they  ha'ppy  prooue. 
Who  loue  what  most  deserues  their  loue. 

32. 

This  his  wiijes  quicke  fate  lanienting, 
Orpheus  sate  his  sooale  tormenting  : 
While  the  speedy  wood  came  running, 
And  riuers  stood  to  heare  his  cunning; 
The  hares  ran  with  tire  dogs  along. 
Not  from  the  dogs  but  to  his  song : 
But  when  all  his  verses  turning, 
Onely  fram'd  his  poore  heart's  burning  : 
Of  the  higher  powers  complaining, 
Downe  he, went  to  hell  disdaining: 
There  his  siluer  lute  strings  hitting. 
And  his  potent  verses  fitting  r 


} 
} 


All  the  sweets  that  efe  he  todke    ' 

From  his  sacrtd  mother's  brbokte : 

What  his  double  sorrow  giues  him. 

And  loue  that  doubly  double  grieaes  him: 

There  he  spends  to  raooue  deafe  hell. 

Charming  deuils  with  his  Spell ; 

And  ■with  sweetest  asking  leaue> 

Does  the  Lord  of  Ghosts  decekue. 

Calxjn,  amai'dj  his  boatfe  foreslowes. 

While  the  Bdate  the  sculler  rtsWes, 

And  of  itselfe  to  th'  shoare  doth  floate. 

Tripping  on  the  dancing  moate. 

The  three  headed  porter  preast  to  hear6> 

Prickt  vp  his  thrice  double  eare  ; 

The  furieSj  jplagties  for  guilt  vp-heaving. 

Now  as  guilty,  fell  a  weeping; 

Ision,  though  his  wheele  stood  still, 

§till  was  wrapt  with  musickes  skill. 

Tantale  might  haue  eaten  now. 

The  fruite  as  still  as  was  the  bough. 

But  he  foole,  no  longer  fearing, 

Staru'd  his  tast  to  feede  his  hearing. 

Thus  since  loue  has  wonne  the  field, 

Heauen  and  hell,  to  earth  must  yeeld, 

Blfest  soule  that  dyest  in  loue's  sweete  sound. 

That  lost  in  lode,  in  loue  art  found. 
If  but  a  true-lotie's  ioy  thoii  once  doe  proue. 
Thou  t^ilt  not  loue  to  liue,  vnlesse  thou  liue  to  loue, 

33. 

Who  neere  saw  death,  may  death  commend, 
Call  it  ioyes  prologue,  troubles  end  : 
The  pleasing  sleepe  that  quiet  rockes  him. 
Where  neither  care,  nor  fancy  mockes  him. 
feut  who  in  neerer  space  doth  eye  him, 
^ext  to  hell,  as  hell  defye  hirh : 
No  state,  no  age,  no  sexe  can  fnoue  him. 
No  beggar's  pfey,  no  kings  rfeptobtie  him : 
In  midst  of  mirth  and  loue's  alarrihes, 
He  puis  the  bride  from  bridegrootAe's  arms  : 
The  beauteous  virgin  he  coritemnes, 
The  guilty  with  the  iust  condemns. 
All  weare  his  cloth  and  none  denyes, 
Dres  't  in  fresh  cblour'd  liueries. 
Kings  lowe  as  beggars  lie  in  graues. 
Noises  as  base,  the  free  as  slauet : 
VOL,  II,  M  Blest 


178 

Blest  who  on  vertues  life  relying. 
Dies  to  vice,  thus  Hues  by  dying: 
But  fond  that  making  life  thy  treasure, 
Surfetst  in  ioy,  art  drunke  in  pleasure ; 
Sweetes  do  mak^  the  sower  more  tart. 
And  pleasure  sharps  death's  keenest  dart: 
Death's  thought  is  death  to  those  that  liue. 
In  liuing  ioyes,  and  neuer  grieue. 
Happelesse  that  happie  art  and  knowst  no  teares. 
Who  euer  Hues  in  pleasure.  Hues  in  feares. 

J.  XI. 


%  The  Complaynt  of  Roderyck  Mors,  somtyme  a  gray 
fryre,  unto  the  parliament  howse  oflngland  his  natu- 
ral cuntry.  For  the  redresse  of  certen  wicked  lawes, 
evel  customs  and  cruel  decreyi.  [Not  paged.  Colo- 
phon.] Imprinted  at  Savoy  per  Franciscum  de  Tu- 
rona. 

This  book,  which  bears  no  date,  was  written,  as  far  as 
I  can  judge  from  its  contents,  sometime  after  Henry 
VIII.  had  thrown  off  his  allegiance  to  the  papal  power, 
probably  about  the  year  1545.  The  general  stile  of  the 
work  is  similar  to  the  "  Exhortation"  addressed  to  the 
same  Monarch,  of  which  some  account  is  given  in  the 
Seventh  Volume  of  the  Cens.  Lit.  (page  36.)  The  pre- 
sent writer  does  not  however  confine  his  censures  to  the 
Pope  alone,  but  extends  them  to  every  thing  relating  to 
popery  in  general,  and  bitterly  inveighs,  in  most  of  his 
pages,  against. such  of  the  English  Bishops  and  higher 
orders  of  the  clergy,  who,  in  any  degree,  adhered  to  the 
forms  and  regulations  of  that  religion,  in  the  discharge 
of  their  ecclesiastical  duties. 

The  following  is  a  Table  pf  the  Contents  of  each  chap- 
ter in  number  xxv. 

"  That  comon  prayers  and  a  sermon  owght  to  be  at  the  be- 
gynnyng  of  all  cowncels — Of  enhansing  of  rentes  by  land- 
lordes — Of  the  forfeiting  of  the  landes  or  goodes  of  traytours, 
&c. — Of  the  inclosing  of  parkes,  forestes  and  chases — Of  sel- 
lyng  of  wardes  for  maryage  wherof  ensueth  adultery,  which 
owght  to  be  ponished  by  death— Of  the  injvryes  done  to  the 
comynalty  by  the  Kyng's  takers,  &c.-- Of  the  suttylty  of  serv- 

ynj 


179       , 

ytig  of  wiyttes,  &c. — Of  promoters,  which  may  wrongfully 
troble  a  man  by  the  lawe  of  "Engla"d,  and  thowgh  he  be  cast, 
iie  shall  pay  no  charges,  &c. — ^That  all  judges  and  pkaters  at 
the  barre  may  lyve'of  a  stypendi  geven  them  of  the  king  out 
of  the  abbey  londes — Of  the  cruelnesse  and  sultyltes  of  the 
augmitacyon  and  escheker,  &c. — Of  the  prolongyng  of  the 
lawe,  and  of  certen  abuses  in  the  same,  &c. — ^That  kyngesand 
lordes  of  presons  shuld  fynd  their  presoners  sufTycyent"  fode  at 
their  charge  :  and  of  men  that  have  lyen  long  in  preson,  &c.— 
That  men  which  be  accused  for  preachyng,  shuld  not  be  co- 
mytted  into  their  accuser's  handes— Of  lordes  that  are  parsons 
■  and  vicars — Of  lordes  that  are  shepardes — Of  first  frutes  both 
of  benefices  and  of  lordes  landes-^Of  particular  tachementes, 
that  all  creditors  may  have.powiid  and  pownd  alyke,  whan 
any  man  falleth  in  poverty — ^That  the  rulars  of  the  erth  ought 
to  sit  in  their  gates,  or  els  in  their  privy  chamber  dores — A 
godly  admonycyon  for  the  abolysshment  of  dy verse  abuses, 
and  of  the  servyce  to  be  had  in  the  Englyssh  tong — That  one 
pryst  owght  to  have  but  one  benefyce,  and  one  fermer  but  one 
ferme — Of  the  inhansing  of  the  custpme,  which  is  agaynst  the 
Comonvvelih  —  A  godly  advysemet  how  to  bestowe  the 
goodes  and  landes  of  the  bysshopsj  kc>  after  the  gospel,  with 
an  admonycyon  to  the  rulers,  that  thei  loke  better  upon  the 
hospitalles — A  lamentacyo"  for  that  the  body  and  tayle  of  the 
pope  is  not  banisshed  with  his  name— A  comparyson  betwene 
the  doctryne  of  the  scripture,  and  of  the  bisshops  of  England— 
A  brefe  rehersal,  conteyriyng  the  whole  somme  of.the  boke." 

The  following  extracts  are  taken  from  the  xxiii  chap- 
ter, containing  some  few  particulars  relative  to  the  first 
circulation  of  the  Bible  in  English. 

"  Oh  raercyful  father  of  heavyn,  I  can  never  lament  Inough 
to  heare  the  gospel  thus  blasphemyd  to  be  namyd  a  thing 
causyng  sedicyon  whan  it  is  the  only  cause  of  concord  and 
peace  in  conscyerice  unto  the  faythful.  Yet  these  bysshops,  ' 
deanys,  and  canons  of  coUegys,  with  other  the  popys  shave- 
lings according  to  their  old  wont,  shame  not  to  blaspheme 
this  holy  word,  by  all  the  sotle  meanys  that  can  be  dy- 
■vysed.  How  besy  were  thei  to  stey  the  puttyng  forth  of 
the  great ,  B,yble,  *   and  to  have  had  the  Byble  of  Thomas 

*  "  Henry  VIII.  renewed  this  year  (1541,  May  6,)  his  injunc- 
tions to  the  clergy^  to  provide  English  jjibles  of  the  largest  'volume, 
and  deposit  them  ifl  their  churches  for  the  use  of  their  people  j 
his  former  injunctions  on  that  subject  having  been  generally  dis- 
$beyed  by  those  luho  lucre  enemies  to  reformation"  ' 

Henry's  Hist,  of  G.  Brit.  (8vo.  Ed.)  Vol.  XII.'p.  93. 

w  2  Mathy. 


I  So 

Mathy,  *  called  in,  but  the  Lord  strengthenyd  the  hart  of  the 
Prynce  to  set  it  forth  agaynst  their  willys ;  yet  how  shamefully 
haue  tbei  and  their  membres  in  tnaoy  placys  of  England 
drevyn  men  from  readyng  the  Byble  ?  yea  and  Boner  bysshc^ 
of  London  shamyd  not  in  the  yere  a  thowsand  fyve  hundreth 
and  forty  to  preson  one  porter  and  other,  for  readyng  in  the 
Byfaie  :  which  if  it  be  not  heresy  to  God  then  what  is  heresy? 
And  if  it  be  not  treason  to  the  Kyng  to  deface  his  imunicyons, 
than  what  is  treason  ?  And  agayne  if  it  be  not  theft  to  the  co- 
monwelth  to  steale  from  the  their  sprytual  fode,  than  what  is 
robry  and  theft  ?  And  evyn  in  the  begynnyng  of  the  last  Par- 
liament in  the  }'ere  a  thousand  fyue  hundredth  and  xli  how 
did  thei  blaspheme  rage  and  belye  the  Holy  Goost,  saing  it  is 
not  ryghtly  translated,  and  that  it  is  ful  of  heresys  and  that 
thei  wold  correck  it,  and  set  out  one  ryghtly :  soner  can  thei 
fynd  featys  thai"  amend  it.  Who  perceyueth  not  your  wickyd 
intentys,  that  in  the  mean«tynae  ye  loke  for  the  death  of  the 
Kyng,  whom  God  preserve  to  his  plesure? 

'■  Nodout  one  bisshop,  one  deane,  one  college,  or  howse  of 
canons,  hath  eucr  done  more  mischefFe  agaynst  God's  word, 
and  sought  more  the  hynderace  of  the  same,  tha"  x  howses  of 
monkys,  fryers,  chanons,  or  nunnys  ever  dyd.  The  Kyngs 
grace  began  wel  to  wede  the  garden  of  Ingland,  but  yet  hath 
he  left  standyng  (the  more  pytye)  the  most  fowlest  and  stynk- 
yng  wedys,_  which  had  most  nede  to  be  pluckyd  up  by  the 
rootys,  that  is  jto  say,  the  prycking  thistels,  and  stinkyng  net- 
tels :  which  styll  stondyng,  what  helpyth  the  deposyng  of  the 
pety  membres  of  the  Pope,  and  to  leave  his  whole  body  be- 
hynd,  which  be  the  pompes,  bysshops,  canons  of  coUegys, 
deanys,  and  such  other? 

"  The  bysshops  of  England  never  toke  so  gret  paynes  to  de- 
fend the  Pope  and  his  kyngdome,  as  they  have  done  syns  the 
King's  grace  toke  rightfully  from  him  his  accustomyd  polla- 
gysj  which  usurpedly  he  had  out  of  this  reame.  To  prove 
this  to  be  true,  whot  blood  haue  thei  shed,  syns  that  tyme,  of 
the  belovyd  servantes  of  the  everlyving  God,  for  preching, 
^achmg,  writing,  and  walking  in  the  truth:  as  Tewkysbery, 
Eaynam,  Fryth,  Bylney,  Barnys,  Garet,  lerom,  with  diverse 
other  m  Kent,  Salysbery  and  dj-verse  other  placys.  And  Wyllm 

*  "The  Bible,  which  passes  under  the  name  of  "Matthew's 
Bible,  was  edited  by  Rogers,  and  printed  in  folio  at  Hamburgh 
by  Grafton  and  Whitchurch  in  the  year  1537. 

Mr.  Beloe  mentions  a  curious  edition  of  the  •«  Newe  Testa- 
ment, as  set  forth  by  Willyam  Tyndale,  with  the  annotation  of 
Thomas  Matthew.  1549."  Anecd.  Lit.  V.  I.  p.  179. 

Tynd 


i8i 

Tyndal  the  apostle  of  Ingland^  (although  he  were  burnt  in 
Brabance  *)  yet  he  felt  the  bisshop's  blessing  of  Ingla"d,  which 
procured  him  that  deaths  which  he  loked  for  at  tbeiE  handes. 
Nevertheles  I  dowt  not,  .but  that  all  these  be  of  the  nomber 
of  them,  that  S.  loha  spekyth  of  in  the  Apocalipse,  which 
lye  under  the  altar,  till  the  nomber  of  their  brethren  be  fuU 
filled,  which  shal  be  slayne  for  the  gospel's  sake." — 

J.  H.  M. 


^  Verses  attributed  to  the  Earl  of  Strafford. 

TO    THE    EDITOR    OF   THE    BBITISH' BIBLIOGRAPHER. 

SIS, 

The  copy  of  Verses  enclosed,  has  been  transcribed 
from  a  single  sheet,  printed  at  London,  in  folio,  1641. 
Some  of  your  Correspondents  may,  perhaps,  be  able  to 
say  whether  they  were  really  written  by  the  person  they 
are  ascribed  to.f 

"  Verses f  lately  written  hj  Thomas,  Earle  of  Strafford. 

1. 

"  Go  empty  joyes. 
With  all  your  noyse. 

And  leave  me  here  alone. 
In  sweet  sad  silence  to  bemoano 

Your  vaine  and  fleet  delight. 
Whose  danger  none  can  see  aright, 
Whilest  your  false  splendor  diromes  his  sight. 

2. 

Goe  and  insnare. 
With  your  false  ware. 

Some  other  easie  wight. 
And  cheat  him  with  your  flattering  light  j 

Raine  on  his  head  a  shower 
Of  honours,  fevor,  wealth,  and  power  j 
TheB  snateh  it  from  him  in  an  houre. 

*-  In  the  year  i53fr< 
t  A  copy  from  the  Harl.  MSS.  No.  6933,  is  printed  in  the  To- 
pographer, Vol.  II.  p,  234.,  containing  several  variations.  Editor. 

H  3  3. 


l82 


Fill  his  big  minde 
With  gallant  winde 

Of  insolent  applause: 
Let  him  not  feare  all  curbing  lawes. 

Nor  King  nor  people's  frowne ; 
But  dreame  of  something  like  a  crowne. 
And,  climing  towards  it,  tumble  downc. 


Let  him  appeare. 
In  his  bright  sphere. 

Like  Scyothia  in  her  pride. 
With  star-like  troups  on  every  side  j 

Such  for  their  number  and  their  light. 
As  may  at  last  ore whelme  him  quite. 
And  blend  us  both  in  one  dead  night. 

5. 

Welcome  sad  Night, 
Griefe's  sole  delight,. 

Your  mourning  best  agrees 
With  Honour's  funerall  obsequies. 

In  Thetis  lap  he  lies. 
Mantled  with  soft  securities. 
Whose  too-much  sun-shine  blinds  bis  eyes. 

6. 

Was  he  too  bold 
That  needs  would  hold 

With  curbing,  raines,  the  Day, 
And  make  Sol's  fiery  steeds  obey  ? 

Then  sure  as  rash  was  I, 
Who  with  ambitious  wings  did  fly 
In  Charles,  his  waine  too  loftily.  - 

7: 
I  fall,  I  fall. 
Whom  shall  I  call  ? 

Alas  can  he  be  heard. 
Who  now  is  neither  lov'd  nor  fear'd  ? 

You,  who  were  wont  to  kiss  the  ground. 
Where  'ere  my  honour'd  steps  were  found. 
Come  catch  me  at  my  last  rebound. 


i83 

8. 

How  each  admires     '  - 
Heav'n's  twinkling  fires. 

When  from  their  glorious  seat 
Their  influence  gives  life  and  heat. 

But  O I  how  few  there  ar, 
(Though  danger  from  that  act  be  far) 
Will  stoop  and  catch  a  falling  star. 

?• 

Now  'ds  too  late 
To  imitate 

Those  lightB  whose  pallidnesse 
Argues  no  inward  guiltinesse  : 

There  course  one  way  is  bent. 
The  reason  is  there's  no  dissent 
In  Heaven's  high  Court  of  Parliament.' 


*  * 
* 


^  A  Welch  Bayte  to  spare  Protiender,  Or,  a  looking 
backe  vpon  the  times  past.  Written  Dialogue  wise. 
This  hooke  is  diuided  into  three  parts.  The  first,  a 
Iriefe  discourse  of  Englands  Securitie,  while  her 
late  Maiestie  ivas  liuing,  with  the  maner  of  her  pro- 
ceeding in  Gouernment,  especially  towards  the  Pa- 
pists and  Puritanes  of  England,  whereof  a  Letter 
turitten  late  before  her  death,  specifies,  asjolloweth  in 
this  first  part.  The  second,  a  description  of  the  Dis- 
tractions during  her  Maiesties  sickenesse  with  the 
composing  of  them.  The  third,  of  the  aptnesse  of  the 
English  and  the  Scotie  to  incorporate  and  become  one 
eJitire  monarchie:  with  the  meanes  of  preseruing  their 
vnion  euerlastlngly,  added  therevnio.  Printed  at 
London  by  Valentine  Simmes.  1603.  qto.  Sixteen 
leaves. 

At  the  back  of  the  title  a  single  quatrain,  as  '*  a  prelude 
vppon  the  name  of  Henry  VVriothesIy,  Earle  of  South- 
hampton," and  a  poetical  address  to  the  same  nobleman 
follows,  subscribed  "  your  Lordshippes  in  all  the  nerues 

N    4  of 


of  my  ability,  T-ho.  Powell,"  The  principal  object  of 
the  writer  of  this  tract  appears  to  h^ve  been  cojmplimen- 
tary  to  the  new  Monarch,  and  to  ridicule  the  memory  of 
Elizabeth.  It  is  partly  in  dialogue,  and  the  rumour  of 
her  illness,  with  the  supposed  distractions  thereupon, 
are  thus  described : 

"  The  Distractions  during  Mr  Maiesties  Sicknes. 

"  The  first  newes  the  citty  had  of  hir  sicknesse  came  from 
Richmond,  by  one  Oliuer  Sharke,  a  sculler,  &  was  deliuered 
with  other  certain  prauant  accordingly  :  before  this  newes  was 
stale  came  a  taile  of  fresh  samniou  to  countermand  it  with 
certaine  newes  of  a  something,  nothing,  and  a  priesj:  that  was 
neither  dead  nor  aliue,  but  saspended  betwixt  both.  But  the 
meate  that  this  newes  carried  in  the  mouth  of  it,  bauing  taken 
winde  in  the  seasoning-,  was  solde  two  day^s  after  at  the  Bridge 
house  in  Southwarke  for  little  or  nothing. 

"  The  appetite  of  the  vulgar  was  not  so  queasie  but  it 
would  rather  call  againeinr  the  first  dish,  than  turne  gordge  to 
the  tainte  of  the  lafter :  and  now  againe,  hir  Maiesties  sick- 
nesse was  altogether  in  their  priuate  cuppes  :  for  as  yet  it  wa^ 
b|^t  priuate,  and  that  onely  in  the  cittie;  till  anon  aft«r-,  Tweedle 
the  TgberfiT  chanc'd  to  carry  it  piping  bote  into  fche  country, 
aqd  what  marvellous  distractions  it  wrought  in  both  I  shall 
briefeljf  d'-spour^e  vnfoyou,. 

"  Yet  the  newes  past  but  bjftwjj^t  Beigbbour*  and  familiars 
OHjeJy  fo^'  inlj^rtainenieDt  o;f  tirpiB  and-ejercise  of  secrecie,  or  ^o. 
Xb?.  fir^t  iiew.es  g))ly  prepared  them  to  beUeue  the  second  af- 
firmations, w;hereof  the  next  tidings  presently  ppssest  them  : 
for  iijdeede,  the  yulgare  faith  is  all  possession  ;  and  now  there 
wa^ited  nothing  to  transport  and  distract  them  but  the  many 
differing  circunistanpes  of  t;he  pft  repeated  newes. 

'^uest.  And  could  that  be  wanting  in  aworldeso  ambitions 
o^^^innouation.  Were  there  none  that  would  lend  a  hand  to 
vohinge  the  staleUiessp  of  it  with  the  important  circumstances 
that  should  attend' this  sicknes? 

^s,.  'f  Enpwe  for  innouations  sake,  an,d  these  were  either 
such  as  to  whom  their  present  discontentment,  either  the  hope 
of  reuenge,  or  adiiancement  made  it  seeme  stale. 

"  These  only  laboured  to  draw  the  vukar  into  distraction, 
knowing  them  to,  be  of  si;ich  f^pUitie  therm  that  they  would 
dissolue  againe  in  thp,  feare  of  eruption.  And  now,  when  this 
third  day es  asseueration  to  the  fbrmer,.with  all  the  circum- 
stances that  midnights  a|di\ise  couWe  ^dde  vnto  it,  bad  full-  ef- 
fect 


feet  in  them,  they  were  distracted.  The  poorer  soTte,  lest  their 
securitie  and  fashion  of  lining  should  be  disturbed  by  the  erup- 
tion. The  richer  sorte  lest  the  eruption  should  bring  a  gene- 
rail  imbargo  of  trafique  abroade,  and  domestical  credits  or 

debts  depending  in  other  mens  hands  at  home y 

"  Hitherto  the  vulgar  descerning  no  alteration  in  the 
method  of  the  world,  such  as  vses  to  followe  the  death  of 
princes,  and  no  breath  vsed  to  mainteine  the  fire  of  beliefs 
by  the  suspected  endeuor  of  suppressing  it,  grew  to  be  so  re- 
misse  in  the  delay,  that  his  whilome  impatience  became  a 
thing  like  a  reasonable  creature,  so  like,  that  shortly,  the  com- 
maundement  of|  certaine  the  cities  phisitions  to  be  sent  to 
court,  made  them  once  more  affable,  so  affable  that, he  could 
have  endured  the  discourse  of  the  measure  of  hir  diet,  tha 
manner  of  hir  rest,  or  the  nature  of  hir  sicknes,  with  soma 
few  breathings  bt^twixt :  whereby  it  appears  hetherto  yea  vnto 
the  end  :  the  habits  of  a  ciuil  gouernraQat  had  his  challenge  in 
them  entire,  and  that  hetherto  the  disease  of  stalenesse  lay 
aoft  in  his  own  bosome. 

(^u.  "  Me  thinkes  a  habile  at  such  a  time  as  this  was,  coulc} 
not  so  wholy  retain  them,  without  the  better  and  much  mors 
th,en  ordinary  inuigilance  of  office  ? 

Ans.  "  Sir,  I  make  habite  of  obedience,  the  nature  of  hi^ 
tenuife,  and  the  present  circumstances  qf  the  time  hia  con- 
ditions with  the  gouernrnent ;  so,  that  these  tirnes  being  so 
incertain  and  quicke  in  their  circumstances,  that  they  could 
not  be  measured  with  conditions,  I  thinke  I  may,  without  de- 
traction from  office,  attribute  the  continence  of  them  to  habite 
of  obedience  chiefly.  Once  more  laying  aparte  all  surmises,  it 
was  in  cleere  eloquence  (prouided  it  were  from  the  mouth  of 
their  owne  oratour)  and  in  gentle  meanes,  though  not  to  gine 
their  affections  j}eace,  yet  to  compresse  them  from  breaking 
out  into  looser  speaking,  which  is'  aliwayes  the  certaine  rpea- 
sage  of  mutinie. 

Quest.  As  if  the  pri.uate  ^jf  ample  of  punishment  bad,  were 
not  rather  to  be  vsed  at  siUKjtktiHjgs,  then  gentle  meanes  to  the 
vulgar  in  whoni  admiration  and  feai;Q  of  Iiistice,  haue  such 
aimpathie  and  relative  suffering. 

An.  "  It  were  in  composed  times,  Ijut-  npt  here;,  foj;  knew©. 

This  vulgar  's  like  a  skaine  of  many  threds ; 
,     Running  into  a  rownd  and  looser  liste 

It  rauels,  and  it  opens  ere  ye  wiste. 

Plucke  at  the  singjLe  threds;  with  viol^ce-, 

It  puctei;*  to  a  knotty  consequence  ? 

When  with  a  gentle  shal^ing  of  the  skaine 

The  hardest  knqte  vo.twijeu?  thesniseluest  a^j^jtifi. 


J  86 

Yea  the  very  rage  of  humilitie,  though  it  be  most  violent  and 
dangerous :  yet  it  is  sooner  alliciated  by  ceremony  than  com- 
pelled by  vertue  of  oifice. 

Th'  estregmest  vassaltage  enlarg'd  acquires 
The  most  insatiate  and  licentious  head 
Whose  giddinesse  like  to  a  drunken  man 
Is  sooner  pacified  than  chastized.  : 

It  would  be  pacified  in  the  present  fury,  and  afterwards  in  his 
time  chastizement  would  be  taken  of  the  first  and  chifefe  cora- 
mencers  therof :  but  in  this  place  they  could  not  be  so  loose 
of  obedience  for  the  reasons  before  going. 

Anon.  ''  For  all  this,  I  know  not  vpon  what  admonition  of 
circumstances,  there  chancing  certaine  munition  to  be  carried 
through  the  citty  to  the  court,  and  other  carriages  retriued 
from  thence  to  the  Towre ;  the  vulgar  began  to  finde  fault 
with  his  owne  flexibilitie  of  beliefe,  vowing  no  longer  to  suffer 
his  eares  to  be  taken  vp  with  any  other  perswasion  but  that 
of  her  death,  nor  to  deferre  any  farther  his  instance  taking 
from  the  court  but  to  be  presently  appointed  vpon  his  double 
guardes.  And  here  Destraction  had  his  ancient  cognisance  of 
Bilbo:  passant,  and  lanthorne  and  candlestick  pendant.  And 
eiien  here  it  rusbt  into  the  suspition  of  apparant  succession  ap- 
proaching." 

Her  Majesty's  literary  attempts  are  burlesqued  in  a 
short  ode,  as  an  offering  to  her  universal  genius  and 
memory. 

Quest.  "  Sir,  now  you  haue  digested  the  fractions  of  those 
dayes  remotion  so  compendiously  as  these  few,  the  appertinent 
"words  and  the  patience  of  your  hearer  could  beare,  I  desire 
you  before  you  speake  of  the  Scottish  Englishing,  which  1  take 
to  be  the  maine  drift  of  your  exercise,  to  offer  by  the  way  at 
her  exequies,  who  was  sometimes  the  fire,  the  numbers,  the 
genius,  the  any  thing,  Eliza  of  poesie,  the  same,  sometimes. 
Musa  potens  musis,  dijs  dea  dia  deabusj 
Angelica  Angelicis,  Nimphique  chor^  Choris. 
Ans.  "Because  I  would  haue  you  thinke  you  cannot  doe 
me  more  acceptable  imposition,  you  shall  receiue  it  at  once  in 
these  few  lines  following 

"  The  Offering. 

"  Little  wonder  thou  shouldst  die, 

Though  thy  meanes  were  great  in  flying: 
Greatnesse  shall  1  tell  the  why. 
Longest  lifed  is  longest  dying, 

And 


18; 

And  if  both  at  once  began. 

Who  would  wonder  at  thee  than  f 
Nothing  strange  to  be  sufficed, 

After  kingdomes  left  behinde  thee. 
And  so  much  by  the  demized, 

With  this  little  to  confine  thee. 

For  thy  story  ne're  makes  mention. 

Appetence  had  more  intention. 
Tell  thou  to  others  that  their  ends  must  haue. 
For  all  their  kingdomes  but  one  little  graue. 

Vix.it  atque  meritura, 
Eliza. 

Quest.  "  Is  this  all  she  shall  haue  ?  Why,  I  expected  a  vol- 
lume  of  your  Melpomene  bound  vp  in  the  very  vampe  of  hir 
bu'skine,  with  prety  passionate  speeches,  in  a  new  streine  and 
inuocation  that  should  haue  drawne  dfie  the  very  hoofes  of 
your  flying  horse  in  Friday-strete  j  as  thus. 

Admetus  dairie  maide  come  feede  thy  neame. 
Come  bring  Apollo  curds  and  clowted  creame. 

But  indeede,  indeede  this  is  all  in  all,for  true  griefe  would  not 
be  commended  for  action,  it  is  so  much  in  suffering:  it  would 
be  ceremonious  not  affected  f 

Ans.  "Ax  least.  Sir,. I  am  sure  there  is  no  more  sinceritie 
in  these  few  lines  then  I  am  able  to  quote  vppon  a  masse  of 
her  flatterers.  For  who  would  beleeue  it?  That  hee  which 
was  wont  to  set  a  world's  distinction  betwixt  her  and  mortali- 
tie,  should  now  come  after,  and  say  she  went  the  way  of  all 
flesh  ?"  * 

"  The 

*  Other  puny  attacks  must  have  been  made  ujjon  the  memory 
of  Elizabeth  early  after  her  decease.  They  are  alluded  to  by  a 
writer  of  that  period/  who  did  not  consider  her  name  thereby  ren- 
dered unpopular,  having  made  her  the  subject  of  a  very  long 
poem,  above  i go  stanzas,  entitled:  Slueene  Elizabeth'' i  Teares :  or 
Her  resolute  bearing  the  Chrisiia  n  Crosse,  inflicted  on  her  by  the  perse- 
cuting hands  of  Steuen  Gardner,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  in  the  bloodie 
tiTne  of  Slueene  Marie .  Written  by  Christopher  Leuer.  Nocet  indul- 
gentia  nobis.  Printed  at  London  by  V.  S.  for  Matbeiv  Lonunes,  dnueU 
ling  in  Paules  Churchyard,  at  the  signe  of  the  Bishops  head.  1607.  qto. 
It  is  dedicated  to  Robert  Eail  of  Salisbury,  and  the  writer  says, 
"  the  gratious  and  well  deseruing,  when  they  die,  leaue  behind 
theni  a  reputation  that  can  neuer  die,  I  instance  this  in  Queene 
Elizabeth  of  blessed  memory :  a  lady  beyond  example  beautifyed 
with  the  ornaments  of  grace  and  nature'(the  twoo  handes  of  God) 
whose  name  (like  the  aire)  is  spread  ouer  all  the  earth,  whereby 

this 


i88 


<< ' 


The    Scottish   Englishing,"   is    a  compliment    to 
K.  JameSj  upon  the  harmony  derived  from  uniting  the 

two 

this  our  little  world  (the  English  nation)  is  made  famous  to  all 
posterity."  The  allusion  above  referred  is  in  a  short  address  "  to 
the  reader.  The  name  of  Queene  Elizabeth  is  sufficient  argument 
to  perswade  a  friendly  acceptation  ;  and  from  the  better  disposed 
(whome  I  couet  principally  to  please)  I  shall  doubtlesse  receiue 
that  reasonable  and  honest  construction.  As  for  those  who  haue 
their  tongues  dipt  in  the  poyson  of  enuie,  I  write  not  to  please 
them  who  wil  neuer  be  pleasd  with  that  which  is  most  deseruing  ; 
it  being  the  nature  of  enuie  to  depraue  that,  which  dooth  deserue 
the  highest  fauour  of  loue  and  good  opinion.  I  may  example  this 
in  the  wrong  offered  to  the  name  of  Queene  Elizabeth,  who 
(though  shee  were  the  most  admired  of  her  time)  hauing  extra- 
ordinary induments,  and  a  gouernment,  much  more  in  the  de- 
grees of  honour  and  prosperitie,  than  any  her  predecessours  5  yet 
want  there  not  malitious  and  base  deprauers,  who  (like  dogges 
that  barke  against  the  sunne)  couet  to  bite  her  honourable  name, 
whome  God  hath  made  more  glorious  than  the  sunne^  giuing  her 
a  place  of  glorie,  in  fellowship  with  his  holy  angelles  and  saints. 
&c."  Leuer's  poem  has  introductory  verses  in  Latin,  sig.  I.  C. 
Lat.  and  Eng.  by  R.  K.  English  by  Robert  Pcsket ;  and  thus 
commences  : 

♦'  I  that  haue  reacht  my  meditation  hie, 
And  versd  the  holy  suffrings  of  my  Lord, 
Still  doe  I  mooue  in  that  emperiall  skie. 
Where  saints  and  holy  angels  do  afford 
Subiect  that  may  diuinest  wit  accord  : 
I  glory  then,  that  to  my  verse  is  giuen. 
This  care  to  fet  their  holy  cause  from  heauen. 
Among  the  nuniber  of  those  holy  saints, 
A  happy  lady,  where  all  happies  are, 
Whose  name  report  in  eueiy  place  acquaints. 
Who  like  the  beauty  of  the  fairest  starre. 
In  beauteous  name  exceedes  all  other  farre : 
And  but  we  doe  except  the  virgin-mother. 
We  reach  her  praise  as  high  as  any  other. 
Thus  I  conceiue  her  image  in  my  thought. 
Clad  in  the  virgin  ornament  of  white. 
Within  that  white  her  innocence  was  wrought, 
Vnspotted  with  the  touch  of  vaine  delight. 
Her  habite  is  all  day,  and  nothing  night ; 

And  in  that  white  (as  my  remembrance  saith) 
Was  writ  this  motte,  Defendar  (fthe  Faith." 
This  writer  puts  it  in  the  mouth  of  Gardner  to  accuse  Elizabeth 
to  her  sister  as  being  the  cause  and  head  of  Wyat's  rebellion  in 
1553  :  which  ends.in  her  committal  to  the  Tower. 

«  The 


(two  kingdoms,  and  a  short  account  of  the  derivation  of 
his  title.     At  the  end  are  the  following  lines  addressed 

*'  To  the  vnparaleld  hlesst  disposition  the  Lady  Elizur 
lath  Bridges. 

"  That  thou  art  faire^  because  thou  would'st  not  know  it. 
My  verse  shall  be  no  flattering  glasse  to  show  it : 
Th'  art  free  from  conflicts  with  the  blood  of  sense. 
Experience  too,  bids  that  doubt  spare  expence. 
Then,  where  is't  I  am  deteined  ? 

"  The  priest  replide :  if  so  your  Grace  -will  heare 
lie  giue  you  instance  both  of  when  and  where. 

When  Wyat  with  the  mutinous  in  Kent; 
Moou'd  a  commotion  in  your  quiet  state, 
So  dangerous  that  Wyat  did  present 
His  rebdt  troopes  before  your  princely  gate  j 
Whorae,  though  the  heauens  were  pleasde  to  ruinate. 
Yet  let  it  be  within  your  princely  care, 
To  know  the  cause  from  whence  these  rebells  were. 

Wyat  (alas!)  a  priuate  gentleman, 
Whose  reputation  neuer  reacht  so  hi^, 
As  to  be  mark'd  in  state ;  could 'W'yat  than 
With  his  weake  credite  raise  a  companie,      ' 
So  warrelike  as  to  match  your  MaieStie  ? 

(Madame,  be  suve,)  a  greater  was  the  head. 

Although  the  body  Wyat  gsuerned. 
In  great  attempts,  its  weighty  pollicie 
That  whome  the  practise  doth  most  neere  respect. 
With  false  appearance  they  dissembled  be. 
That  if  their  bad  designes  haue  bad  effect. 
They  may  auoyde  the  daillf  er  of  suspect ; 

But  if  the  practise  haue  desired  end, 

-The  plotters  then  the  practise  will  commend. 

Your  sister  learned  in  thissuttlearte, 
(Be  pleasd  to  pardon  plainenesse  in  my  speach) 
Would  not  the  secret  of  the  plot  impart, 
Saue  vnto  Wyat,  whom  her  art  could  teach. 
To  silence  how  Ambition  made  her  reach : 
And  though  the  traitor  to  his  death  denie  it. 
The  truth  of  circumstance  will  verifie  it. 

What  other  cause,  saue  Luther's  discipline, 

Begat  this  ciuili  discord  in  your  state? 

Nor  can  your  kingdomes  holy  church  reslgfie ; 

Whikt  that  your  princely  selfe  is  magistrate. 

Then  sure  these  rebells  she  did  animate. 
Your  sacred  life  (by  treason)  to  depriue. 
That  she  and  Luther  might  the  better  thrjue." 

Chaste 


1,90 

Chaste  to  all,  selfe  owning  beauteous, 
Be  benigne,  as  we  are  dueteous, 

Reede  our  line,  and  loue  vnfeined. 

T.  P." 

Others  to  Sir  Thomas  Kneuet  and  Sir  Edward  Dyer. 

J.  H. 


%  J  he  famous  Hislorte  of  Allions  Queene :  Imprinted 
at  London  hy  W(\\\iam)  W{ood)  *  for  Thomas 
Pauier.  1601.  Small  410.  b.  1.  R.  4. 

Frequent  research  has  not  hitherto  enabled  me  to  fill 
up  the  chasm,  which  time,  or  some  less  certain  adversary, 
has  made  in  my  copy  of  the  above  work.  From  the  un- 
productive result  of  my  inquiries,  I  am  almost  led  to 
doubt  the  existence  of  another  copy :  but  as  the  book  col- 
lector ought  always  to  qualify  his  assertion  with  respect 
to  a  particular  work  being  unique,  by  adding  to  such  an 
epithet  the  adverb  "  hitherto,"  I  must  cautiously  abstain 
from  exulting  in  the  fancied  possession  of  an  article, 
which  another  week's  experience  may  convince  me,  in- 
stead of  being  unique,  is  dual,  or  perhaps  plural.  Such 
things  have  been  "  ere  now  i'  the  olden  time."  The 
conviption  even  of  the  undoubted  possession  of  a  single 
copy,  and  the  raptures  attendant  on  it,  ought  to  b'e 
governed,  or  at  least  moderated,  by  the  consideration  of 
what  its  individuality  may  be  owing  to :  the  collector 
ought  to  reflect  on  the  circumstances  suggested  by  an 
eminent  modern  critic,  "  that  a  fire  or  an  enterprising 
trunk-makef  that  should  take  off  nearly  the  whole  of  a 
worthless  work,  would  instantly  render  the  small  remain- 
der invaluable."  f     Indeed,   the  effects  of  fire  on  books 

*  I  find  no  other  printer  about  this  period  whose  initials  cor- 
respond with  the  above,  save  Wm.  White,  who,  according  to 
Herbert,  printed  witli  date  in  1596,  Wood,  from  the  same  au- 
thority, appears  to  liave  printed  three  years  later.  Herbert's 
Ames,  1808. 

t  Preface  to  Massinger's  Works,  by  Gilford. 

are 


are  similar  to  those  on  gold ;  at  least  if  the  flame  does 
not  render  the  substance  more  pure,  the  residuum  is  more 
valuable.  I  cannot  indulge  my  vanity  in  the  solitary 
contemplation  of  the  work  in  question,  without  reflect- 
ing that  its  rarity  probably  originates  in  its  insignifi- 
cance. '  Nature  is  not  fond  of  perpetuating  a  race  of 
dwarfs,  and  the  flower  which  possesses  neither  beauty  of 
colour,  nor  fragrance  of  smell,  has  no  hold  on  the  fos- 
tering protection  of  the  botanist,  who  leaves  it  to  die,  as 
it  lived,  unregarded.  * 

This  work  partakes  little  of  the  character  or  incidents 
of  the  genuine  romance  :  giants  are  unknown:  chivalry  is 
scarcely  noticed :  and  neither  Mahound  nor  Termagaunt 
are  invoked  by  any  unhappy  devil  of  a  Pagan :  we  read 
■not  of  kiiights  or  ladies: 

"  No  Durindana  waves  o'er  fabled  realms," 

and_  consequently  the  incidents,  though  improbable, 
would  also  justify  me  in  saying,  that  its  claim  to  the  title 
of  romance  is  more  than  apocryphal.  It  is  merely  a 
"  historic." 

Perhaps,  however,  there  is  a  species  of  originality  in 
.this  history,  which  may  entitle  it  to  some  little  conside- 
ration. I  confess,  1  am  at  a.  loss  whether  to  view  it  as  a 
lurking  satire  on  the  preceding  ages,  or  as  an  effusion  in- 
tended merely  for  amusement :  to  enable  the  beau  of 
the  Elizabethan  age  to  while  away  an  hour  before  he 
"  walked  in  Powles;"  or  to  furnish  him  with  a  meagre 
outline  of  the  names  and  characters  of  the  preceding  half 
century.  In  either  case  the  author  was  cursed  with  a 
most  uninventive  brain.  I  have  been  compelled  to  give 
the  title  from  the  running  title  and  colophon,  as  the  copy 
now  before  me  is  deficient  in  title  page,  preface  (if  there 
was  any),  and  the  first  chapter.  I  begin  therefore  with 
the  second,  in  which  the  three  Earls  of  Westmoreland, 
Somerset,  and  Durham,  came  to  visit  "  Albion's  Queene" 
Katherine  in  a  prison,  in  which  she  was  confined  by  her 
husband  under  suspicion  of  a  criminal  intercourse  with 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk.     Before  I  proceed  in  giving  a  con- 

*  The  only  copy  I  have  heard  of  was  in  Dr.  Farmer's  sale,  lot 
•5877- 

cise 


igz 

cise  account  of  the  history,  I  need  hardly  point  out  to 
my  readers  the  resemblance  between  the  names  of  the 
characters  here  introduced,  and  those  who  actually  existed 
in  a  period  immediately  preceding :  it  cannot  be  forgot- 
ten  that  the  Princess  Mary,  sister  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
and  widow  of  Louis  the  Twelfth  of  France,  married  Sir 
Charles  Brandon,  afterwards  Duke  of  Suffblk:  and  it  is 
not  improbable,  that  the  name  of  the  most  to  be  pitied, 
and  perhaps  the  most  amiable  of  Hehry's  wives,  afforded 
the  hint  for  the  appellation  of  the  heroine. 

The  imputed  attachment  of  the  Queen  to  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  which  led  to  the  imprisonment  of  both,  the 
author  wills  us  to  believe  originated  solely  in  the  malice 
of  a  certain  '« Baron  of  Buckingham ;"  but^  from  the 
conclusion  of  the  history,,  we  might  almost  be  led  to  be- 
lieve that  there  were  better  grounds  for  the  suspicion 
than  the  mere  suggestion  of  an  ambitious  courtier.  The 
Queen,  immediately  ort  her  captivity,  sits  down  to  com- 
pose a  madrigal  on  her  unfortunate  state,  and  whichj 
though  it  may  not  arrogate  equal  praise  with  the  produc- 
tions of  the'  Laura  Marias  and  Rosa  Matildas  of  the 
present  day,  yet  is  not  altogether  deficient  in  smooth- 
ness ;  and  in  redundancy  of  epithet,  it  rivals  most  com- 
pletely the,  elegiaic  trash  of  the  English  Delia  Crusca 
academy. 

"  The  spightfuU  Barrens  cursed  flatterie. 

Hath  wrong'd  Queene  Katharine's  spotlesse  chastitie  :  . 
And  leuel'd  oUt  his  dartes  of  listing  shame. 
Against  the  princely  honours  of  her  fame. 
But  Trueth  in  time,  shall  conquer  Enuie's  will. 
Where  FaytK  shall  spring,  and  brightly  floorish  still : 
Packe  hence  Dispaire,  sweet  loy  come  ease  my  smart. 
For  constant  Fayth  doth  harbour  in  toy  hart." 

These  lines  were  written  on  the  walls  of  her  prison 
with  the  "  blood  of  her  marriage  finger." 

"  No  sooner  had  the  Queene  iiiiished  these  bloody  lines, 
but  there  came  into  the  prison  to  comfort  her,  three  graue 
counsellers  of  King  Edward's  court,  whom  she  did  most 
louingly  entertaine ;  and  after  some  conference  passed  betwixt 
them,  she  most  kindly  kissed  her  husband's  liuely  pictuie, 
which  as  then  hanged  about  bet  necke  by  a  faire  chaine  or- 
rundle  of  gold,  powring  out  many  bitter  teares,  to  the  wonder- 
full 


193 

full  gflefe  and  admiration  of  all  that  behelde  her:  the  which 
bei«g  done,  she  humbly  desired  pardon  of  the  Lordes,  to  use 
some  wordes  in  the  defence  of  her  chastitie,  so  that  she  might 
liot  abuse  their  patience :  and  as  she  having  an  innocent  and 
guiltlesse  hart,  so  she  might  freely  discharge  her  conscience, 
and  cleare  herselfe  from   all  those  uniust  accusations  layde 

against  her." "  The  harmlesse  Queene  in  a  most  seuere 

and  bold  countenaunce,'  with  sundry  faire  amiable  syrtes  in 
her  cheekes,  her  browes  beset  like  the  majestic  of  Diana,  her 
■white  iuorie  trembling  hands  like  the  driuen  snow,  her  body 
euen  framed  and  fashioned  of  the  virgin  v/axe,  spake  as  fol- 
loweth."- 

We  are  told  by  Quintilian  that  the  courtesan  Phryne, 
about  to  be  condemned  for  impiety,  by  uncovering  her 
bosom,  so  influenced  her  judges  as  to  induce  them  to  ac- 
quit her  ;  the  venerable  counsellors  of  King  Edward  are 
equally  susceptibleof  the  charms  of  beauty;  and,  indeed, 
our  author  in  this  instance  discovers  his  correct  know- 
ledge of  human  nature,-as  he  makes  these  sage  men  gal- 
lant in  proportion  to  their  years,  a  fact  evidenced  from 
the  earliest  records  of  sacred  and  profane  history.  The 
"  seveere  and  bolde  countenance"  of  the  Queen  makes 
converts  of  her  auditors.  The  Earl  of  Somerset 
addresses  her  in  a  feply,  which  principally  consists  of  a  se- 
lection of  instances,  in  which  false  witnesses  were  even- 
tually punished  by  the' righteous  vengeance  of  heaven. 
The  object  is  attained;  the  Queen  is  consoled,  and  the 
Earls,  meditating  on  her  charms,  retire,  after  resolving  to 
address  a  supplication  or  memorial  to  King  Edward,  re- 
commending him  "  to  frequent,  the  company  of  his  chast 
Queene."     This  recommendation  is  useless,  nor  could 

"  at  all  prevayle  to  enlarge  her  (the  Queen's)  servitude, 
for  a  little  before  the  wicked  Barron  had  presented  to  King 
Edward  a  goldsmithes  daughter  of  London,  named  Cassiope  j 
a  damsel  of  a  lewde  behaviour,  yet  beautifuU  and  passing  amo- 
_rous,  who,  with  her  flattering  smiles  so  intangled  his  eyes,  and 
bewitched  his  fancie  in  such  sort,  that  he  delighted  onely  in 
her  companie,  wholly  changing  his  auncient  loue  from  his 
loyal  Queene,  thinking  all  times  too  long,  till  the  tender 
thread  of  her  life  were  cut  off,  which  vertue,  before  time,  had 
so  honorably  spunne." 

Fascinated  with  the   syren  smile  of  the  goldsmith's 

daughter,  the  King  disregards   the  wholesome   admo- 

voL.  II.  o  aitions 


194 

niiions  of  his  council:  he  goes  furtherjhis  "almost 
blunted  •p'lrppse"  is  edged  afresh  by  the  ill-timed  reprp- 
sentations  of  these  sages,  and  accordingly  "  he  gave  them*, 
this  sharpe  edict  for  the  arraignmeiit  and  Sentence  against 
Queene  Kat{ierine  and  the  Duke  of  SufFolke." — Where 
the  judge  is  the  party  principally  interested  to  obtain  the 
convictipn  of  the  accused,  the  evidence  is  not  carefully 
weighed  or  thoroughly  sifted  :  the  Baron  of  Buckingham 
supported  by  "  two  other  base  gentlemen  of  the  King's- 
court,"  bare  testimony  to  the  criminality  of  the  Queen 
and  Duke,  and  in  spite  of  the  Earl  of  Somerset's  intrepid 
vindication  of  their  innocence,  they  were  on  the  point  of 
being  convicted,  when  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland 
"  which  as  then  presented  the  King's  person,"  sug- 
gested a  mode  of  defence  which  would  appear  to  have 
^een  rather  obsolete  when  Dukes  of  Suffolk,  Earls  of 
Durham,  and  Barons  of  Buckingham,  were  existing  ia 
England,  He  recommends  an  appeal  to  the  god  of  bat- 
tles as  the  test  of  innocence,  and  Suffolk  "  greatly  com-- 
forted  with  this  counsell,"  immedtarely  pens  a  challenge, 
which  is  forwarded  to  Buckuigham's  hands.  The  singu- 
larity of  the  nature  of  this  challenge  is  scarecly  equalled. 
by  the  royal  proclamation  directing  the  combat. 

"  I  Edward,  by  long  sufferance  of  divine  fortune,  King, 
PriDce.j  and  chiete  Ruler  of  all  the  partes  of  England,  &c. 
Whereas  the  determined  purpose  of  the  noble  &  hardy  gentle- 
man the  Lord  Baron  cf  Buckingham,  is  to  defende  himselte 
against  the  miserable  &  condemned  catiue  the  Duke  of  Suf- 
folke,  a  fable  for  the  worlde  to  gaze  upon,  an  infamous  wretch 
of  notable  dishonour,  harbouring  in  his  hart  long  treasons 
against  our  person,  subiectes,  and  dominioii ;  in  excuse  of  his 
leawde  life,  for  his  best  aduantage,  challengeth  open  warre 
against  my  good  subiect  (he  Lord  Barron  j  vnto  whose  request, 
in  favour  of  auncient  prowesse,  I  haue  yielded.  But  as  touch- 
ing the  trespasse  of  my  Queene  no  combat  shall  prevaile  to 
acquite  her  disgrace  nor  no  mortall  be-nefites  pardone  her  of-  ■ 
fences.     Thus  fare  you  well. 

Edward  of  England." 

From  the  time  of  this  edict,  little  impartiality  was  la 
be  expected  from  its  promulgator.  The  King,  the  Baron^ 
and  Cassiope,  however,  unwilling  to  trust  to  the  righte- 
ousness of  their  cause,  endeavour,  by  fraud^  to  attain  suc- 
cess:— 


^95 

fcess:—TfrLislie  Thomas,  a  kitchen  drudge,  but  "  a  lustie 
tall  fellow,"  is  selected  by  the  trio  to  represent  the 
Baron,  and,  in  his  name,  to  maintain  the  truth  of  the 
accusation  against  Suffolk.  On  the  eve  of  the  combat 
Suffolk  is  seized  with  a  fit  of  versifying,  and  composes  an 
elegiac  song,  which,  together  with  the  Queen's  reply, 
being  given  by  Mr.  Evans,  in  the  fourth  volume  of  his. 
late  new  edition  of  "  Old  Ballads,"  it  would  be  unneces- 
sary to  introduce  here. 

Trustie  Thomas,  spite  of  his  chosen  amour  from  the 
royal  magazine,  and  his  personal  strength,  was  unable  to 
meet  with  success  the  gallant  Suffo.lk,  and  he  paid  with  his 
life  for  the  honour  of  contending  with  him  in  a  quarrel 
not  his  own.  *  Notwithstanding  the  Duke's  success,  the 
unjust  monarch  banished  him  the  kingdom,  and  he 
quitted  England  with  the  pleasing  consolation  that  he 
carried  with  him  not  only  the  good  will  of  the  people, 
but  also  the  affections  of  the  Queen ;  as  a  testimony  of 
which  she  "  gaue  him  a  hoope  of  gold,  round  fastened 
to  his  necke :  the  posie  about  the  same  was  this — , 

'■'  What  earthly  place  so  ever  harbours  thee, 
Till  death  depart  (braue  Lord)  remember  me." 

the  which  being  clasped  about  his  necke  with  two  siluer 
claspes  prepared  for  the  same  purpose,  whereon  was  very 
curiously  engraven  two  bloody  hartes  bound  togither 
with  a  true  loues-knot." 

The  Qiieen  was  only  saved  from  the  cruel  death  in- 
tended her,  by  a  plea  of  pregnancy,  which  induced  the 
King  to  respite  her  execution  until  she  gave  birth  to 
twins,  a  boy  and  a  girl.  The  boy  is  sent  to  Normandy, 
to  the  court  of  Duke  Robert,  and  the  girl  into  Denmark, 
where  each  meets  with  that  affectionate  attention  "from 
strangers,  which  their  helpless  innocence  was  insufficient 
to  insure  from  their  natural  protector. 

*  It  was  no  uncommon  incident  in  the  old  romances  for  one 
individual  to  assume  the  character  and  fight  in  the  cause  of 
another,  a  practise  indeed  for  which  the  disguise  of  their  armour 
afforded  ample  facility — Amylion  conquered  the  Seneschall  who 
had  accused  the  fair  Belisante,  in  the  name  and  under  the  ap- 
pearance of  his  friend  Amys,  who  could  not  personally  have 
sworn,  as  the  laws  of  chivalry  required,  that  the  accusation  was 
talse.  Ellis's  early  Romances,  Fol.  III. 

o  a  Katherine, 


Salherine,  on  tKe  eve  of  execution,  escapes  rttixn  h«-? 
apparently  inevitable  fate  into  Normandy^  where  we  wiH 
leaver  bep,.  as  does  oitr  author,  to  communicate  the  pro- 
gress-  of  the  misguided  King  to  destruction,  Cassiope 
makeg  him  the  father  of  a  son,  whe,  as  he  grows  up,  at- 
tains an  influence  over  his  father,  which  rivals  and  even- 
tually exceeds, the  dotage  of  the  King  towards  his  unprin- 
cipled mistress.  It  was  to  be  expected  that  the  near  con- 
nection in  crime  between  the  Baron  of  Buckingham  and; 
the  favourite  wouW  terminate  in  a  nearer  intercourse, 
■which  becomes  so  notorious  to  every  one  around,  that  itis' 
at  length  communisated  to  the  King,  by  a  shepherd,  who, 
regardless  of  his  own  safety,  exposed  the  practices  of  the 
Baron  and  his  female  associate,  too  late,  however,  to 
punish  them ;  having  usurped  the  whole  power  and  acting 
in  the  name  ofyalentinus  (the  Kin.g's  bastard  son  by. 
Cassiope)  they  dethrone  the  wretched  monarch  without 
a  struggle. 

The  royal' wanderer  seeks  refuge  in  Brunswick,  where,' 
after  being  reduced  to  the  utmost  distress^  he  at>audons  thq 
sceptre  for  the  rod,  and  becomes,  like  another  Dionysius, 
a  schoolmaster.  It  was  said  by  Cicero,  that  the  fatter 
still-retaining  his  tyrannical  thirst  for  power,  when  no 
longer  able  to  rule  over  men,  was  content  to  tyrannize 
over  boys  ;  and,  from  the  subsequent  conduct  of  Kin^ 
Edwfard,  it  seems  not  unlikely  that  this  selection  of  air 
employment  was  made  from  similar  motives.  At  length 
having-  discovered  bis  rank  to  the  gentletaan  in  whose 
family  he  was  "  schoolemaister,"  he  is- conveyed  to  the 
court  of  Denmark,  where  he  finds  his  neglected  daughter, 
the  fairSilvia.  on  the  point  of  marriage  with  the  Dane's 
"  soiine,  and  heire  young  Essricke,  both  being  of  ari 
equal]  age-,  and  nursed  vp  togither." 

Valfentiiius,  the  son  of  Cassiope,  being  vested  with  the 
kingly  dignity  in  England,  punishes  with  parricidal  rage 
his  mother  and  the  infamous  Baron :  urged  by  a  certain 
Sir  Pierce  of  Winchester,  this  act  is  committed  with  cir- 
cumstances  of  such  atrocity  as  only  to  produce  disgust. 
The  plot  now  thickens,  and  the  incidents,  like  tliose  in 
some  of.  our  earlier  comedies,  increase  most  rapidly ;  but 
lanfortunat'dy  without  producing  an  increase' of  interest'; 

The 


197 

The  bla'de  of  com  produces  a  tenfold  crop,  but  tlic  tares 
increase  also  in  equal  proportion.  Edtnond,  the  legiti- 
mate,son  of  the  dethroned  tnonarch,  now,  returns  to 
claim  his  rights;  he  succeeds,  without  difficulty,  in  driv- 
itig  an  usurper  from  the  government,  who  received  as 
little  support  from  the  instruments  of  his  tyranny,  as 
from  the  effort's  of  his  alienated  subjects.  The  thirst  for 
power  again  returns  to  tomient  -the  now  aged  Edward; 
lie  obtains  an  army  from  the 'King  of  Denmark,  and 
purposes  to  assert,  by  amis,  h\s  claim  to  a  throne,  which 
his  vices  had  already  rendered  him  unworthy  of.  Whilst 
preparing  to  sail  for  England,  Sir  Pierce  of  Winchester, 
a  double  .traitor,  in  whom  the  anjiable  Edmond  had 
placed  too  much  confidence,. migrates  to  Denmarl?,  .and 
adds  much  to  the  Kir^g's- hatred  of  his  son. 

Edmond  i«  this  danger  was  not  regardless  of  his^duty; 
he  writes  for  advice  to  his  mother,  who  had  been  long  and 
honourably  entertained  at  the  Roman  court,  and  seeks 
assistance  from  the  Duke  of  Suflfol-k,  (who  had  beea 
elected  King  of  Portugal)  as  well  as  from  other  quarters. 
The  Danes  having  landed,  the  hostile  armies  meet  in,  the 
, county  of  Kent.  Their  numbers  were  .nearly  equal,  but 
the  foreign  force  was  headed  by  a  general  :more  than  a 
inatch,  in  policy,  at  least,  for  the  English  commander: 
the  Danish. King  contrives  to  atchievc,  .by  stratagem,  a 
victory,  which,  by  force  of  arms,  he  had  little  hope  of 
gaining.  ■"  In  the  jiight  time  he. caused. a  thousand  wlkle 
horses,  with  hollow  rattles  ofiron  .fastened  to  their  neekes, 
to  be  sent  foorth.vpon  the  English  tentes  without  re- 
lume: this  iti-rode  being  so  confusedly  entered,  he  or^ 
dayned  also  an  boost  of  foure  thousand  soldiers  to  pur- 
sue them  with  wildfire  and  burning  brimstone  in  their 
handes." 

This  nocturnal  attack  was  completely  successful:  the 
English  force. is  entirely  annihilated:  they  felt  no  dread 
.of  men,  butcould  not  resi&t  these  demon  foes  with  brim- 
stone in  their  handes:  the  unfortunate,  butamiable  Ed- 
jnpnd  'is  made  prisoner,  and  instantly  sacrificed  ,to  .the 
jealous  hatred  of  his  father, 

.  Edward  aga,!!!  assumes  the  reins  of  government,  vvhich 
2ie  does  not  long  retain,  but  retiring  into  private  life  re- 
5&ign5  the  sceptre. to  his  son  in-law,  and  dau^ht^r. Silvia- 

03  ■  3^^e 


The  voluptuous  life  to  which,  without  constraint,  KiHg* 
Edward  devoted  himself,  does  not  long  continue.  Seized 
with  an  incestuous  passion  for  his  daughter,  he  obtains 
by  force  that  which  all  her  adjurations  and  resistance 
were  unable  to  prevent,  but  immediately  falls  a  victim 
to  the  vengeance  of  outraged  heaven;  "for  in  his  daugh- 
ter's presence,  a  fearefull  flambe  of  burning  fire  descended 
from  the  celestiall  throne  of  heaven,  and  bereaued  hira 
both  of  speach  and  lyfe  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinckling 
of  an  eye."  The  miseries  of  this  family  were  not  yet  at 
an  end. 

"  A.fter  King  Edward's  death  thus  strangely  happened.  Lord 
Essericke,  vpon  his  oune  absolute  authoritie,  bore  sway  among 
the  people,  who  was  not  able  to  gouerne  y^  country,  except  it 
were  with  mercilesse  tyrannic ;  for  the  natures  of  English- 
men be  euermore  such,  that  they  will  not  indure  nor  sustaine 
the  burthens  of  any  forreine  Prince.  In  the  reformatio"  of 
which  rule,  they  did  not  only  dispirse  sundry  infamous  slaun- 
ders  against  him  throughout  the  whole  countrey,  but  also 
trayterously  conspired  the  fjnall  destruction  of  his  life," 

In  addition  to  his  tyranny,  he  assails  the  virtue  of  the 
ladies  of  his  court,  and  to  remove  all  obstructions  to  his 
desires  administers  poison  to  his  amiable  v/ife.  The  af- 
fections of  his  subjects  being  now  completely  alienated,  the 
lightest  panicle  in  the  scale  would  turn  it,  and  to  add  to 
his  approaching  destruction:  the  long'absentQiieen,  hear- 
ing of  the  wretchedness  of  her  former  subjects,  returns  to 
England,  where  her  arrival  is  hailed  by  myriads  of  her 
distressed  coiintrymen.  The  general  defection  was  such, 
.that  Essrieke,  conceiving  his  only  hope  of  impunity  con- 
sisted in  timely  submission,  hasted  to  throw  himself  at 
the  feet  of  Katharine. 

His  errors  in  government  might  have  been  overlooked 
by  the  Qiieen,  but  his  cruelty  towards  her  children 
roused  the  vengeance  of  the  mother;  she  ordered  him  to 
be  beheaded,  "  the  which  was  not  so  strictly  com- 
maunded,  as  speedily  performed  ?"  The  Duke  of  Suffolk, 
now  "  King  of  Portingale,"  speedily  hastens  into  Eng- 
land, and  amidst  the  joyful  acclamations  of  a  grateful 
iseople  is  united  in  marriage  to  the  Queen.  Our  author 
concludes—"  And  finally,  Queene  Kalherine  marrying' 
the  good  Duke  of  Suffolke^  together  with   the  consent 

anti 


199 

rand  acluice  of  the  whole  dominion,  were  crowned  legiti- 
.mategouernors  of  England:  where  they  inioyed  issue  and 
.posteritie  betweene  them,  with  long  life,  prosperous  re- 
,iioune,  eternall  honour,  and  euerlasting  feliciiie."  W. 
'  ag  Nov.  1810. 


'^  A  Sermon  preached  at  Hampton  Court,  on  Sonday 
•hemg  the   11  day  of  Nouemher  in  the  yeare  of  our 
Lord  1570.     VFherein  is  plainly  prooued  Bahilon  to 
ie  Rome,  both  by  Scriptures  and  Doctors.     Preached 
>ly  VFilliam  )Fiillte,  'Doctor  of  Diuinity,  lately  fel- 
:low  of  S.  Johns  Cdlledge  in  Camhridge.    Apocalips 
14.     She  is  fallen,  she  is  fallen,  euen  Bahilon  that 
great  Citty,  for  of  the  wine  of  the  fury  of  her  forni- 
cation, she  hath  made  all  nations  to  drinhe.  Imprinted 
at   London   by    lohn    Charlevvod.    1579.    Col.    Im- 
printed at  London  by  lohn  CharleiOood,  dwelling  in 
BarbyCan,  at  the  signeofJhehalfeEgleandKey. 
'Sixteens.  33  leavea. 

Prefator.y  dedication  to  'Lorde  Ambrose  Dudley,  Earle  of 
y/arwike.  Text  from  Rev.  xiv.  v.  8.  The  name  of  Babilon  , 
and  mysticiil  number  66(i,  are  considered  descriptive  of  the  see 

.of  Rome,  and  that  the  final  destruction  had  commenced.  To 
become  "  a  dwelhng  place  of  diuels,  a  cage  of  vncleane  birds, 

,  according  to  the  prophecy  of  £say,  concerning  old  Babilon, 

•  that  Zyim  and  Ohim  which  be  sprigbtes  and  goblings  shall 
walke  in  her  pallaces,  scrichowles  and  ostriges  shall  crye  in  her 

.houses,  apes  and  satyres  shall  daunce  in  her  beutifull  buyld- 
inges.  No  voyce  of  man  shal  be  hearde  in  her,  no  sound  of  a 
mill  shal  be  heard,  no  light  of  a  candle  shall  be  scene,  but 

^perpetuall  solitude  and  sorrowe  shall  dwell  there  for  euer- 
more. — rln  wealth  and  ritclies  she  hath  sustained  a  great  fall. 
•Consider  how  many  kingdoms  and  states  of  the  world  haue 
renounced   her  obedience,   and   all  those  haue  withdrawen 

, great  rents,  reuenues  and  commodityes, -that  in  tyme's  past 
were  addicte  to  the  mayntenance  of  Babilon,  the  Church  Of 
Rome.     A   great   fall    without   pcraduenture,   and  that  will 

iBeuer  be  recouered.  Remember  so  many  abbycs,  monasteries, 
nunneries,  frieries^  hospitals,  chauntries,  churches,  and  chap- 
pels,  now  ouerthrowen  and  made  euen  with  the  ground.  .All 
landes,  iewels,  ornamentes  and  great  treasures  that  belonged 

c^nto  them,  clean  taken  away  from  thqm  :  and  you  wyll  con- 

ifeste  with  me,  that  Rome  in  ritches  hath  a  great,  fall."       *  * 

0  ,4 .  iCMucer's , 


50O 


^   Chaucer's  Prophecy. 

Urry  has  given  some  lines  from  a  MS.  in  Trin.  Coll. 
Cambridge,  under  the  title  of  Chaucer's  Prophecy.  [See 
Typographical  Antiquities,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dibdin, 
p.  311,  and  Mr,  Todd's  Illustrations,  p.,119..]  The  fol- 
lowing copy  of  the  same  lines  has  material  variation  ;  it 
is  taken  from  the  fly  leaf  of  a  Missall,  illuminated  on 
vellum.  On  the  reverse  of  the  leaf  is  the  date  M.cccxlxxj. 

"  Qwan  p"stis  faylin  i"her  sawes. 
And  loxdis  tvirnin  goddis  lawes  : 

Ageynis  ryt 
And  letcherie  is  holdln  as  p"uy  *  solas 
And  robberie  as  fre  purchas ; 

bewar  tha'ne  of  iller 
Then  schal  the  lond  of  Albion, 
Turnin  to  confusion : 

As  su'tyme  it  befelle, 
Ora  p"  Anglia  sea"  Maria :  q.  Thomas  Cantuarje, 

Swete  ihu~  heuene  king, 

Fayr  &  best  of  alle  thyng ; 

thou  bringe  us  owt  of  this  moring, 

To  come  to  the  at  owre  ending,    Ame~. 

Jhu~  bone,  sic  dispone,  hora"  mei  transitus  _ 

Vt  ad  Chorum,  angelorum,  meus  p~  gat  sp  s,  ame  . 

Angcle,  qui  meus  es  custos  pietate  sup~na. 

Me  tibi  cd"missu~  serua,  defende,  guberna,     , 

Si  timor  e*  sine  spe.  tu'"c  desp"aracd"  ledit 

Et  mei  spes  timeat  stati"  presu"pco~  dampnat 

Ergo^timor  sine  spe  nee  spes  ual.  absque  timorc 

Q'nque  modis  flagella  co"tfgu~t  ul"  ut  inst~is  m~ita  angea~- 
tur  p~  pati~am  ut  Job  vF  ad  custodia"  u  tutu"  ne  sup~bia. 
te~ptet  ut  Paulo  vl"  ad  corrige'da  pua~  ut  Marie  lep" 
vl"  ad  gla~m  dei  ut  de  ceco  nato  vl  ad  iniciuni  pene 
Herodi.  quatins  hi  uideat"  q'd  i"  inferno  sequat""  scd  .  ., » 
. .  .  Duplici  co~trico~ne  co'tere  eos  dn"e  deus  ri'r. 


•  P'-vy  I,  e.  privy. 

Falestim, 


20I 


^  Palestina.  Wntien  hy  Mr.  R.  C'  P.  and  Bachelor 
of  Diuinitie.  Vlorence :  Imprinted  by  Bartelmeu/ 
Sermartelli,  1600.  qto.  pp.  200. 


<( 


Mr.  R.  C[atholic]  P[riest],  or,  as  written  in  the  title, 
a  papiste."  This  singular  work  displays  much  genius 
and  novelty  in  the  descriptions,  and  from  the  command 
of  language,  though  printed  at  Florence,  must  have  beea 
the  production  of  an  Englishman  well  acquainted  with 
his  native  tongue.  How  to  class  such  a  work  is  not 
easy  to  conjecture.  Tt  is  partly  allegorical,  founded  upou 
scripture,  and,  commencing  with  the  story  of  our  first 
parents^  relates  several  of  the  facts  attending  the  life  of 
our  Saviour.  The  detail  is  given  in  the  manner  and  lan- 
guage of  romance,  yvilh  an  introduction  of  Sibellean 
oracles.  Pagan  fictions,  and  portions  of  the  Roman  his- 
tory. It  ajipears  the  offspring  of  a  fervid  imagination, 
after  some  intercourse  with  the  world,  and  at  length  con- 
templating divine  subjects  in  the  cold  and  gloomy  seclu- 
sion of  a  cell.  * 

Dedicated  "to  ovr  most  gracious,  and  Soueraigne  Ladie 
and  Princes,  whose  dowrie  is  little  England,  and  the  largest 
heauens  her  fayrest  inheritance,  all  happinesse  and  heauenly 
blisse.  All  faire  and  fortunate  Princesse,  the  glorie  of  England,, 
the  gemme  of  all  the  world:  so  worthie  of  the  highest  re- 
nowne,  as  no  one  is  worthie  to  pronounce'  thy  name.  By 
whom  next  vnto  God  wee  not  ohely  liue  but  labour  with  ioy 
our  heartes  ease,  our  soules  peace.  Liue  vnder  whom  England 
Ifueth  in  the  farthermost  part  of  the  world,  and  raigne  for  eu'er 
vnder  whom  it  hath  beene  a  long  time  most  graciously  gouerned 
at  home.  Vouchsafe  noble  Princes,  who  descendest  of  a 
princely  race.  Vouchsafe  gracious  Soueraigne,  who  conde- 
scendest  to  thy  poorest  subiectes  requestes.  Vouchsafe  worthie 
of  all  praise,  this  small-worth  present,  which  although  it  bee 
but  a  harsh  discourse  of  a  sometime  happie  countrey,  yet  it  is 
with  a  heartie  wish  it  were  not  so  greatly  weaned  from  thee 

A  pleasing  subiect  are  thy  prayses.  if  by  any  tliey  could 

be  worthily  desciphered,  but  they  doe  so  much  exceed  the  arte 

*  "  Mr.  Baker  gave  a  copy ,  of  this  very  uncommon  book  to 
6t.  John's  Library."     Nate  by  Dr.  Farmer. 

both 


'       ,  502 

%otli  of  penne  and  pensell  that  men  should  wrest  tlieir  wittm 
-sn  vaine,  that  would  do  more  then  wopder  at  them.  Thy  fe- 
lidtie  then'  being  so  great,  thy  bountie'  so  graciou5^  as  no  one 
who  needeth,  thy  patronage  may  mstly  either  distrust,  or  dis- 
;paire  thereof,  hauing  declared  what  most  humblie  I  desire,  and 
.earnestly  wish  I  may  dejerue,  I  cease  &  admire  thee,  with 
those  who  neuer  cease  to  admire  thee,  and  wish  ynto  thee 
what. thou  hast  not,  aboue  all  mens  wishes.  Your  Maiesties 
humble  seruant  not  worth  the  naming." 

It  cornmences  witti  a  description  of  the  heavenly  Hte- 
Tusalem,  wherein  "  dwelleth  an  Emperor  so  worthie,  and 
-so  weahhie,  as  in  his  presence,  both  the  rarest  maiestie 
seenieth  base,  and  the  richest  monarch  a  beggar."  His 
gates  and  houshold  are  attended  by  princes,  "  euerie  one 
of  them  rich,  because  thev  cannot  eniov  more  then  they 
Joe  :  all  happie,  because  they  cannot  become  lesse  thea 
ihey  are."- 

"  With  this  Emperour  Hued  the  aboue  mentioned  frinces, 
'without  any  tediousnesse,  desire  of  change,-  or  any  kinde  of 
-sorrow,  being  incapable  of  any  thing  but  happinesse;  vntil  a 
niaruailous  rare  and  rigorous  seeming  accident  befell  them,  for 
their  Emperour  having  one  onely  sonn'e,  equal!  .vnto  his  father 
in  power,  might,  and  authoritie,  and  in  no  one  poynt  of  per- 
fection, degenerating  from  him,  from  both  whome,  for  the  in- 
■iinite'likenesse  betwixt  them,  proceeded  an  infinite  loue,  hee 
deputed  him  to  a  -pi^blike,  shameful),  and  a  painefull  death, 
which  did  so  amaze  the  Princes  attendant,  whose  loue  was  no 
riesse  vnto  him  then  vnto  his  father,  that  (might  they  haue 
teene  suffered)  they  would  all  haue  sustained  that  punishment 
to  haue  saued  their  Prince,  but  their  offer  was  refused,  for  the 
sentence  was  irreuocable. 

"  The  motiue  of  this  vnnaturall  seeming  iudgeraent,  was  an 
fCxeeeding  great  loue,  which  hee  bare  vnto  a  lady  hi&. adopted 
^daughter,  who  was  so  enchaunied  by  her  owne  folly,  as  of  a 
:niost  comely  and  beautiful!  creature,  shee  became  so  mishapen 
and  so  vgly  that  shee  was  loathsome  euen  vnto  her  selfe.  This 
■enchauntmentwasbyeatingan  apple,  of  which  her  father  before 
iliadgiuen  her  warning  Shee  should  not  taste,  vponperill  of  that 
-which  should  ensue  thereof:'  but  her  pride  was  so  great,  that 
ungrateful!  to  so  good  a  lord  and  disobedient,  to  so  careful!  a 
;father,  shee  followed  the  motion  which  was  made  vnto  her  by 
a  false  though  a  fayre  spolten  enemie,  andeate  thereof  contrarie 
:to  her  father  his  comma.undement. 

*'  I'he.encliantment  wfas  sod^uised;,  that  hauing  taken  ef- 


203 

feet  it  should  not  hee  dlssolued  but  by  the  death  of  the  onely 
sonue  of  an  Emperour,  who  shoulde  exceede  all  the  princes  in 
the  world  in  giftes  both  of  bodie  and  minde :  he  should  bee 
peerelesse  for  his  birth,  riches,  beautie,  wisedom,  and  might ; 
whose  father  should  neuer  know  any  woman,  nor  his  mother 
any  man,  and  should  in  the  very  selfe  same  instant  both  haue 
and  want  both  father  and  mother.  The  liking  by,  any  such 
prjnce  of  such  an  vnlouely  lady  being  vnlike,  and  the  birth  of 
anie  such  prince,  or  other  seeming  impossible,  made  the  en- 
chanter secure,  that  his  work  should-endure  for  euer. 

"  The  enchanter  himselte  was  one  of  more  malice  then 
might,  but  yet  of  more  might  then  vnrulie  assailed  could  well 
resist.  Hee  was  sometime  a  prince  of  the  Emperour  his  court, 
&  among  princes  a  prince,  being  endewed  with  fafre  more  ex- 
cellent gifts  then  any  his  fellow  princes,  and  exalted  vnto  that 
honor,  as  hee  was  reputed  the  chiefest  vnder  bis  lord  and 
maister:  but  bearing  himself  so  proudly  against  his 'maker,  hee 
found  by  too  late  an  experience  that  hee  who  bestowed  those 
graces  vpon  him,  coulde  also  againe  bereaue  him  of  them,  and 
because  hee  had  once  abused  them  with  intollerable  pride  hee 
should  euer  after  be  abridged  of  them  to  his  eternal  pain;  To 
reuenge  which  disgrace  hee  assayed  the  ladye,  th?  Emperour, 
his  daughter,  and  wonne  her  loue  so  farre  foorth,  as  shee  gaue 
more  credite  vnto  him,  then  vnto  her  father,  and  would  da 
more  at  his  request,  then  at  her  fathers  commaundement,  for 
although  she  seemed  at  the  first  to  haue  a  small  liking  vnto  his 
motion,  yet  with  faire  promises,  and  too  farre  aboue  his  power 
to  performe;  in  the  ende  hee  made  her  giue  a  consent  vnto  her 
vtter  ouerthrowj.had  not  the  Emperour,  his  sonne  being  de- 
puted by  his  father  thereunto>  vndertaken  lo  release  her  by 
the  losse  of  his  owne  life." 

From  the  history  of  Mary,  the  foliowing  is  part  of  the 
description  where  she  is  addressed  by  her  cousin  Eliza- 
beth as  the  most  blessed  of  women. 

"  The  maiden  mother  blushed  at  her  cosens  words  &  be- 
gan to  muse  how  she  shold  come  to  the  knowledge  of  this  se- 
cret worke,  but  presently  she  perceiued  that  he  had  told  the 
tales,  who  best  might,  without  rebuke;  iuciging  it  therefore 
1)0  boot  for  her  to  conceale  it  whe~  the  riddle  was  so  rightly 
read,  with'a  modest  downcast  of  her  eyes  she  acknowledged 
it,  &  therwithal  in  thanksgiuing  vnto  him  vnto  who  she  had 
~  receiued  such  an  especiall  grace,  according  vnto  the  custome 
pf  the  countrey,  when  any  extraordinary  cause  of  ioy  was 
fiijnistered  ynto  them,  she  brake  out  into  this  song. 

"  My 


21D4 

'«'  TVIy  soul  doth  magnifi?  my  Lord, 
,  My  spirit  also  doth  accord 

To  ioy  in  God  my  Saviour^ 
Tor  that  he  hath  regardfully 
Beheld  his  maiJes  humilitie, 

Ker  tneek  and  low  behauiour. 
Therefore  all  generations 
JFrom  this  time  forth  of  nations 

Shall  euermore  me  blessed  ■call ; 
Jor  he  hath  done  great  things  to  me^ 
Who  able  is  in  each  degree. 

And  holy  bis  name  aboue  all. 
Whose  iTiercy  also. doth  extend 
^rom  one  to  other  without  end, 

The  which  of  him  do  stand  in  feare. 
With  power  and  might  of  his  strong  atme„ 
He  hath  disperst  them  to  their  harme. 

Who  proud  &  loftie  minds  did  beare. 
He  hath  deposed, from  their  seat 
Who  ip  their  owne  conceit  were  great. 

Exalting  bumble  minds  for  aye. 
The  hungriche  hath  fild  with  good, 
Vnto  the  rich  he.gaue  no  food. 

But  sent  them  all  emptie  away. 
He  hath  receiued  .Israel 
His  child  (who  euer  pleas'd  him  well,) 

His  mercies  forgotten  neuer 
As  he  before  had  promised, 
"Vnto  our  fathers  (which  are  dead) 

Abraham  and  his  seed  for  euer. 

,  "'  There  was  so  sweete  a  consort  in  her  contenance,  and  so 
«xquisite  a  concorde  in  her  cariage,  that  there  was  no  need  of 
other  musicke  to  grace  her  song :  the  eare  had  so  full  an  object 
of  her  voyce,  and  the  eye  had  wherewith  to  delight  it  selfe  so 
sniEciently  with  her  lookes,  that  those  which  heard  her  and  see 
her  as  they  had  done,  impiously  .to  haue  taken  her  for  a  god- 
desse,  so  had  they  done  .injuriously,  if  .they  had  taken  her  for 
lesse  then  the  mother  of  God." 

Archelaus,  the  son  of  Herod,  having  for  his  crimes 
been  banished,  and  the  whole  country  of  Palestine  be- 
come subject  to  the  Romans,  the  history  is  brought  to' a 
conclusion,  as  follows: 

"  Thus  came  Hiecusalem  the  cbeefest  citie  of  Palestina, 
snderthe  gouernement  of  the  Romanes,  who,  although  they 

flitep 


20| 

©fteh  attempted^  as  Herod  had  before  them,  to  prophane  ther 
temple,  yet,  at  theyr  times  euery  thing  was  performed  in  the' 
temple  which  was  accustomed  to  bee  doone  before.  The  Kb- 
inanes  saw  that  ^Archelaus  and  Herod  madeifno  matter  of  re- 
ligion to  change  the  high  priest  so  often  as  they*  listed,  and! 
tliat' libertie  also  they  vsed,  coiitraiy  to  thecustome  which  was 
alwayes  obserued  among  the  lewes,  for  while  one  High  priest 
Otjce  chosen  was  lining,  no  one  did  the  office  of  the  hiigh- 
priesthood  but  hee,  except  vpon  some  aiccident  hee  were  not 
fitte  for  it,  as  once  it  cnaunced  that  the  high  priest  dreaming' 
that  hee  lay  with,  his  wife  the  night  Before  hee  Wefs  to  offer  s 
solemne  sacrifice,  was  accounted  vndeane  forthat  which  passed 
from  him  in  his  sleepe,  al;  whicli  time  another  for  that  daye 
supplyed  iiis  place,  for  they  required  great  puritie  i-n  the  priests 
•which  did  theyr  functions  in  the  temple.  Antiochus  Epipha- 
nes  was  the  first  that  did  substitute  one  in  the  high  priestes 
roome  while  the  other  ILued.  .  Aristobulus  forced'  his  brother 
Mircarius  to  leaue  both  the  kingddme  and  priesthood  to  him,  & 
the  thirdtime  thatthehiglvpriest  was  changed,  was  whe"  HeroJ 
placed  or  displaced  Ananelus,  for  Aristob,  his  wiues  brother, 
but  afterwards  it  became  a  verie  ordinarie  matter,  which  both 
Herod,  Archelaus,  &  the  Romanes,  did  the  more  boldly,  be- 
cause ia  the  time  of  their  gouernment,  they  had  the  keeping 
of  the  high  priests  rich  orname'is,  vntil  Vitellius  sending  away 
Pilate  (called  Pontius,  because  he  came  fro"  gouerning  Pontus, 
to  beare  some  sway  at  Hierusalem,  although  at  that  time  hee 
was  not  made  president  of  the  country,)  &  wilting  to  gratifie 
the  lews,  beside  many  other  priuiledges,  gaue  the"  also  the 
keeping  of  those  orname"ts,  which  first  fell  into  Herods  hands, 
whendiey  seased  on  that  paHace,  which  afterward  hee  made  a 
verie  strorrg  castle,  and  called  it  after  the  name  of  his  friend 
Antony,  who  was  his  chiefisst  stay  during  his  life.  Thispall'ace' 
did  belong  to  the  Machabees,  and  Hircanus  high  priest  and 
prince  of  the  countrey,  hauing  his  pallaee  so  neeve  vnto  the 
Temple,  would  vse  no-other  place  to  put  on  or  ©fE  his  attyre 
but  this'j  aad  in  a  chest  for  the  purpose,  he  alwaies  locked 
vppe  his  ornaments,  which  order  was  obserued  by  those  who 
succeeded  him,  and  Herod  gettijig  the  kingdome,  and  finding 
this  chest  with  the  ornaments,  thought  it  good  polHcie  to  haue 
them  still  in  his  own  keeping,  and  thereby  in  some  sort  to  be 
able  to  bridle  the  lewes.  Archelaus  succeeded  his  father,  and 
kept  then»  in  the  same  manner,  and  when  hee  was  banished^ 
the  Romanes  entred  vpon  the  castle,  and  all  things  which  they 
founde  there  :  yet  to  content  the  lewes-  the  president  kept  a 
kmpe  continually  burning  before  them.;,  whichwas  accounted 

a  reueieat 


206 

a  tenerent  keeping  of  these  holy  ornaments,  &  delmered  theni 
seuen  dayes  before  they  were  to  bee  vsed,  that  they  might  be' 
purified  before  the  feast,  for  they  were  accounted  as  prophaned 
by  lying  in  a  prophane  house,  or  by  passing  through  prophanei 
handes;  but  the  next  day,  after  they  were  vsed,  they  were 
brought  backe  to  the  president,  and  locked  vp  Vntill  they  were 
to  be  vsed  againe,  which  was  but  thrice  ordinarily  in  the  yeere* 
"  The  yong  Prince,  who'  a  long  time  appeared  no  other' 
then  a  carpenter,  in  the  thirtieth  yeere  of  his  age  beginneth  to 
finish  that,  which  at  the  first  hee  entended  to  frame,  which 
■whosoeuer  shall  prosecute,  and  shew  in  what  sort  hee  vn- 
charmed  the  lady,  which  was  enchaunted  by  eating  of  the 
fruite  of  a  tree,  by  choaking  the  ihchaunter  with  no  other 
thing,  then  what  also  a  tree  did  beare,  shall  both  finde  a  most 
pleasant  entrance,  and  when  hee  hath  entred  an  endlesse  en-' 
tising  paradise." 

As  this  volume  very  rarely  occurs,  the  extracts  have- 
been  extended  to  a  greater  length  than  usually  given  on 
this  subject; 

J.  H. 


Tj  A  trve  coppie  of  the  admonitions  sent  ly  the  svl- 
dued  Provinces  to  the  States  of  Hollande :  and  the 
Hollanders'  answere  to  the  same.  Together  with  the 
articles  of  peace  concluded  hetweene  the  high  and 
mightie  Princes,  Phillip  by  the  grace  of  God  King  of 
Spaine,  fsfe.  and  Henry  the  Fourth  by  the  same  grace, 
the  most  Chtistian  King  of  France,  in  the  yeare  1598. 
First  translated  out  of  French  into  Dutch,  andnoive 
into  English  by  H.  W.  Edinbvrgh,  printed  by 
Robert  Walde-graue,  according  to  the  copie  printed 
in  London,  1598.  qto.  12  leaves. 

The  admonitions  are  in  eight  a,rticles;  the  first  alledg-. 
ing  Holland  to  be  exalted  from  the  smile  of  fortune,  and 
"  is  seene  and  allowed  to  be  printed.  Datum  Brux'ellai, 
la  Martij  1598.  Petrus  Vinck  Louanriy,  Tohanne^s  Ma- 
sius  excudebat."  The  answer  substitutes  Prouidentia  as 
the  leader,  "  printed  at  Amsterdam  for  Laurence  lacobs. 

Stationer, 


507' 

Stationer,  vpoti  the  water  in  the  bible."  There  is  lil- 
tle  interest  in  the  points  discussed,  or  in  the  Articles* 
of  peace  betwten  Philip  and  Henry  the  Fourth,  datied? 
3d  May,.  1598.  *  * 


^  A  Briefe  and  trve  Declaration  of  the  Sicknes,  last' 
words  and  death  of  the  King  of  Spaine,  Phillip,  the-;, 
second  of  that  name,  who  dyed  in  his  Ahliey  of  Saint 
Laurence  at  Escuriall,  seuen  miles  from  Madrill, 
the  130/"  Septemler,  1598.  Written  from  Madrill 
in  a  Spanish  letter,  arid  translated  into  English  ac~. 
eording  to  the  true  Copie.  Edinhvrgh,  printed  hf 
Robert  Walde-graue,  Printer  to  the  King's'  Majestie. 
1599.     Ci{m  Priuilegio  Regio.  qto. 

At  the  end  of  the  King's  Will,  &c.  is  an  account  of 
"  The  happy  entrance  of  the'  high  borne  Queene  of 
Spaine,  the  Ladie  Margaret  of  Austria,  in  the  renowned 
Gittie  of  F^rrara,"  on  the  1 2th  of  November.  Neither 
this  or  the  preceding  are  noticedby  Herb^^rt.  *  * 


T[  The  Fearfult  Fansies  of  the  Florentine  Couperf 
Written  in  Toscane,  by  John  Baptista  Gelli,  one  of 
the  free  Studie  of  Florence,  and  for  recreation  tran- 
slated into  English  ly  W.  Barker.  Pensoso  d'  altrvi; 
Sene  ^  allowed  according  to  the  order  appointed. 
Imprinted  at  London  ly  Henry  Bynnemnn  Annpi- 
'  1568.  i3mo.   138  folios,  without  Introduction. 

This,  the  address  informs  the  reader,  is  "  the  talke  tha 
olde  lust  the  Couper  hadde  with  himself,  when  he  coulde 
not  slepe  [whichj   did  minister  matter  to  the  maker  o.- 
this -presente  boke,   who  by  other  occasion  hath,  made 

diuers  other  to  his  co~mendatid'  in  the  Toscane  tong 

lohn  Baptista  Gellie,  *  for  so  is  the  tailer  called,  and  for 
lijs  wisedom  chief  of  the  vulgar  vniuersitie  of  Florence, 

*,Died  1563,  iEt.  6j. 

wheiv 


3o8 

•when  Iwas  ther,  did  publish  these  commiinlcations  of 
lust  th6  Couper  and  his  Soule,  gathered  by  one  Sir  Byndo 
his  nephew  and  a  notarie."  The  work  is  divided  into 
ten  dialogues  or  "Reasoning,"  and  the  transjation  ap- 
pears to  have  been  well  received,  as  it  was  reprinted  by 
Purfoot,  iKqq.  The  present  edition  is  not  registered  by 
Herbert.*  ** 

T[  .  The  solace  of  Sion  and  Joy  of  Jerusalem,  or  conso~ 
laiion  of  God's  Church  in  the  latter  age :  redeemed 
ly  the  preaching  of  the  gospell  vniuersallie.  Beeing 
a  godly  and  learned  exposition  of  the  Lxxxvij  Psalme, 
of  the  Princely  prophet  Dauid,  written  in  Latine  ly 
the  Reuerend  Doctor  Vrla,nus,  Regius  Pastor .  of 
Christes  Church,  at  Zella,  in  Saxonie,  1536.  Iran- 
slated  into  Englishjirst  hy  Richard  Robinson,  Cittizen 
of  London,  and  printed  Anno  1587,  and  Anno  i^go. 
Joell  a.  verse  32.  But  uihosoeuer  shall  call  vpon  the 
name  of  the  Lorde  shall  be  saued,  for  in  Mount  Syon 
and  in  lerusalefn  shall  be  deliuerance  as  the  Lord  hcCth 
said,  and  in  the  remnant  ivhom  the  Lord  shall  call. 
Lastly,  printed  by  Richard  lones.  1594..  Small  8vo. 
39  leaves. 

Back  of  the  title  is  displayed  both  the  royal  and  city 
arms,  and  the  dedication  is- addressed  "to  the  Honourable 
Sir  Cutbert  Buckle,  Vintner,  Knighi,  L.  Mayor  of  Lon- 
don this  yeerc  1594,  and  to  the  Right  VVorshipfull  his 
brethern  the  Aldermen  :  with  M.  Paule  Banning  and 
M.  Peter  Houghcon,  now  Sherifes  .of  the  same."  Con- 
cluding "  at  London,  in  S.  Bride's  parish  this  17  of  May, 
1594.  Your  Honors  and  Worships  humble  orator, 
Richard  Robinson."  *  * 

•  At  the  end,  fly  leaf,  "  Imprinted  at  London,  by  Henry  Byn  • 
neman,  dwelling  in  Knight  rider  streate,  at  the  signe  of  the  Mar- 
knaide,  Anno  1598.  Cum,  &c."  On  last  side,  device  of  the  Mer- 
maid. 


ERRATUM. 

The  Readcf  is  requested  to  correct  the  follo\v;iig  Erratum  atp.  117.  line  iC. 
jor  1300  read  3000. 

T.  Bensley,  Printer, 
Bolt  Couit,  Fleet-street,  London. 


Iritfef)  35ibliosrap|)er* 


N°  VIII. 


%  Memoir  of  Sir  Henry  Wotton. 

A  VERY  few  years  after  the  birth  of  Sir  Philip  Sydney 
at  Penshurst,  Kent  produced  another  very  eminent, 
though  not  equally  illustrious,  man,  in  the  person  of  Sir 
Henry  Wotton,  who  was  born  at  the  seat  of  his  an- 
cestors of  Boughtori-Malherb,  in  the  middle  of  the 
County,  in  1568. 

The  Wottons  were  of  no  inconsiderable,  distinction, 
having  possessed  this  lordship  for  nearly  three  centuries. 
Sir  Edward  Wotton,  the  poet's  grandfather,  was  Treasurer 
of  Calais,  and  of  the  Privy  Council  to  K,  Hen.  VIII., 
and  was  elder  brother  to  the  celebrated  Dr.  Nicholas 
Wotton  Dean  of  Canterbury  and  nine  times  Ambas- 
sador to  Foreign  Princes  during  the  reigns  of  K.  Henry 
and  his  children.  Sir  Robert  Wotton,  the  father  of  these, 
wasentrustedbyK.Edw.lv.  with  the  Lieutenancy  of 
Guisnes,  and  was  Knight  Porter  and  Comptroller  of 
Calais;  where  he  died,  and  lies  buried. 

Sir  Henry's  elder  brother,  who  was  afterwards  raised 
by  K.  James, I.  to  the  peerage  by  the  title  of  Lord  Wot- 
ton, was  in  1585  sent  by  Q.  Elizabeth  Ambassador  to 
that  monarch  in  Scotland;  and  Dr.  Robertson  speaks  of 
him,  as  "a  man,  gay,  well-bred,  and  entertaining;  who 
excelled  in  all  the  exercises,  for  which  James  had  a  pas- 
sion, amused  the  young  King  by  relating  the  adventures 
wiiich  he  had  met  with,  and  the  observations  he  had 
Vol.  II.  p  made 


2IO 


made  during  a  long  residence  in  foreign  countnes— but 
under  the  veil  of  these  superficial  qualities,  Dr.  Robert- 
son adds,  that  "he  concealed  a  dangerous  and  intrigumg 
spirit  He  soon  grew  into  favour  with  James,  and  while 
he  was  seemingly  attentive  only  to  pleasure  and  di.ver- 
sions,  he  acquired  influence  over  the  public  councils,^  tr> 
a  degree,  which  was  indecent  for  strangers  to  possess.  J^ 
Isaac  Walton  observes,  that  from  this  account  ot  his 
ancestors,  "  it  may  appear  that  Sir  Henry  Wotton  was  a 
branch  of  such  a  kindred,  as  left  a  stock  of  reputation  to 
theit  posterity  ;  such  reputation  as  might  kmdle  a  gene- 
rous emulation  in  strangers,  and  preserve  a  noble  am- 
bition in  those  of  his  name  and  family,  to  perform  actions 
worthy  of  their  ancestors."  ' 

Sir  Henry  was  the  only  son  of  the  second  marriage  of 
his  father  Thomas  Wotton,  Esq.  with  Eleanora  daughter 
of  Sir  William  Finch  of  Eastwell,  in  Kent,  (ancestor  (o 
Lord  Winchelsea)  and  widow  of  Robert  Morton,  of  the 
same  County,  Esq. 

He  was  educated  at  Winchester  school,  and  thence  re- 
moved to  New  College,  OJiford;  where  at  the  age  of 
twenty,  he  took  the  degree  of  A.  M.  Soon  after  this  he 
lost  his  father,  and  was  left  with  no  other  provision  than 
a  rent  charge  of  lOo  marks  a  year. 

Having  remained  two  years  longer  at  Oxford,  he  re- 
solved to  exchange  his  books  for  the  study  of  the  world, 
and  "  to  purchase  the  rich  treasure  of  foreign  know- 
ledge" by  travel.  He  stayed  abroad  nine  years,;  of  which 
three  were  spent  in  Germany,  and  six  in  Italy. 

He  now,  at  the  age  of  thirty,  returned  highly  acconi- 
piished,  and  was  taken  into  the  friendship  of  Robert,  Earl 
of  Essex,  who  made  him  one  of  his  Secretaries;  and 
whom  he  attended  both  in  two  voyages  to  sea  against  the 
Spaniards,  and  to  Ireland.  On  the  Earl's  subsequent 
imprisonment  (too  soon  followed  by  his  death  on  the 
■block)  he  fled  to  France;  whence  he  went  to  Italy. 
jVom  his  residence  at  Florence  be  had  an  opportunity  of 

Eerforming  a  most  essential  service  to  King  James  just 
efore  the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  by  carrying  secret 

*  History  of  Scotland,  B.  VII. 

intelligence 


mtelligence  to  that  monarch,  in  the  disguise  of  an  Italian, 
that  a  design  was  on  foot  to  take  away  his  life  by  poison. 
On  the  accession  of  the  Scotch  Monarch  to  the  throrie 
of  England,  Wottoh  hastened  back  to  his  native  country, 
where  he  found  his  elder  brother  Sir  Edward  made 
Comptroller  of  the  Household,  and  about  this  time 
Ifaised  to  the  peerage.  The  King  received  hitn  with  dis- 
tinction, and  knighted  him  ■  and  soon  after  gave  hinl  the 
choice  of  an  Embassy  to  France,  Spain,  or  Venice;  of 
which  he  preferred  the  latter,  considei'ing  the  smallness 
of  his  fortune,  arid  "  as  being  a  place  of  inore  retirement, 
and  best  suiting  with  his  genius,  who  did  ever  love  to 
join  with  business,  study,  and  a  trial  of  natural  experi- 
ments," for  which  Italy  was  so  justly  famed.  This  was 
about  1604.  It  was  a  critical  period  when  Venice  was 
engaged  in  a  deep  contest  with  the  tyranny  of  the  Roman 
Pontiff,  And  principally  to  give  King  James  an  insight 
"  into  this  contest  Father  Paul  composed  his  celebrated 
History  of  the  Council  of  Trent. 

In  tnis  employment  he  continued  almost  twenty  years; 
and  the  whole  time  preserved  and  increased  his  interest 
with  the  state;  well  knowing,  that  he  who  negotiates  a 
continued  business,  and  neglects  the  study  of  dispositions, 
usually  fails  in  his  proposed  ends.  *' But  in,  this  Sir 
Henry  did  not  fail ;  for  by  a  fine  sorting  of  fit  presents, 
curious  and  not  costly  entertainments,  always  sweetened 
by  various  and  pleasant  discourse — and  his  choice  appli- 
cation of  stories,  and  his  eloquent  delivery  of  all  these, 
even  in  their  Italian  language,  he  first  got  and  still 
preserved  such  interest  in  the  state  of  Venice,  that  it  w^s 
observed,  (such  was  either  his  merit  or  his  modesty)  they 
never  denied  him  any  request." 

About  the  middle  of  this  time,  however,  he  had  nearly 
lost  the  favour  of  King  James  by  a  discovery  made  by  his 
enemies  of  a  former  pun,  which  he  had  left  in  an  Album 
in  Germany  in  his  journey  to  Venice,  when  first  ap- 

Eoinied  to  his'  Embassy.  It  was  the  definition  of  an  am- 
assadOr  in  these  words : 

"  Legatus  est  vir  peregre  missus  ad  mentienilum  reipublicae 

causa." 

which  Sir  Henry  could  have  been  content  should  have 

.  bcennhus  translated: 

s  2  "An 


512 

"  An  Ambassador  is  a  man  sent  to  lie  abroad  for  the  good 
of  his  country." 

Jasper  Scioppius,-a  restless  Romanist,  printed  it  as 

the  principle  of  King  James  s  religion,  and  excited  so 

strongly    the  Monarch's    resentment   for   the  supposed 

.  oversight  of  Sjr  Henry,  that  it  was  not  appeased  without 

great  difficulty. 

Sir  Henry  returned  to  London  the  year  before  Ring 
James  died,  rather  impoverished  than  enriched;  and 
was  promised,  as  a  reward  for  his  services,  the  reversion 
of  some  office,  which  might  be  turned  into  present 
money;  and  also  that  of  the  Mastership  of  the  Rolls, 
then  held  by  Sir  Julius  Csesar,  who  did  not  die-till  1639.* 
But  these  were  only  in  hope;  and  he  required  an  imme- 
diate support,  being  always  so  careless  of  money,  as 
though  our  Saviour's  words,  "  Care  not  for  to-morrow^" 
were  to  be  literally  understood. 

"  But  it  pleased  Providence,"  .«ays  Walton,  "  that  in 
this  juncture  of  time  the  Provostship  of  his  Majesty's 
College  of  Eton  became  void  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Thomas 
Murray,  for  which  there  were  (as  the  place  deserved) 
many  earnest  and  powerful  suitors  to  the  King.  And  Sir 
Henry,  who  had  for  many  years,  like  Sisyphus,  rolled 
the  restless  stone  of  a  state-employment,  knowing  ex- 
perimentally that  the  great  blessing  of  a  sweet  content 
was  not  to  be  found  in  the  multitudes  of  men  or  business, 
and  that  a  college  was  the  fittest  place  to  nourish  holy 
thoughts,  and  to  afford  rest  both  to  his  body  and  his 
mind,  which  his  age  (being  now  almost  threescore  years) 
seemed  to  require,  did  therefore  use  his  own  and  the  inte- 
rest of  all  his  friends  to  procure  that  place.  By  which 
means,  and  quitting  the  King  of  his  promised  rever- 
sionary offices,  and  a  piece  of  honest  policy  (whichi 

■  have  not  time  to  relate)  he  got  a  grant  of  it  from  his 
Majesty."  He  was  instituted  to  this  preferment  July 
26,  1624. 

Sir  Henry  now  conformed  to  the  statutes  of  the  col- 
lege by  entering  into  deacon's  orders;  and  being  met,  so 

*  See  Lodge's  verj'  interesting  Memoir  of  the  Casar  Family, 

■  lately. published  by  Wilkinson,  with  portraits,  4to.  1810. 

attired 


213' 

attired,  by  a  friend,  observed,  "  I  thank  God  and  the 
King,  by  whose  goodness  I  now  am  in  this  condition — a 
condition  which  that  Emperor  Charles  V.  seemed  to  ap- 
prove; who,  after  so  many  remarkable  victories,  when 
his  glory  was  great  in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  freely  gave  up 
his  crown,  and  the  many  cares  that  attended  it,  to  Philip 
his  son,  making  a  holy  retreat  to  a  cloisteral  life,  where 
he  might  by  devout  meditations  consult  with  God  ;  and 
have  leisure  to  examine  both  the  errors  of  his  past  life, 
and  prepare  for  that  gre'at  day,  wherein  all  flesh  must 
make  an  account  of  their  actions.  And  after  a  kind  of 
tempestuous  life,  I  now  have  the  like  advantages  from 
him  '  that  makes  the  outgoings  of  the  morning  to 
praise  him ; '  even  from  my  God,  whom  [  daily  magnify 
for  this  particular  mercy  of  an  exemption  from  business, 
a  quiet  mind  and  a  liberal  maintenance,  even  in  this  part 
of  my  life  when  my  age  and  infirmities  seem  to  sound  a 
retreat  from  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  and  invite  me  to 
contemplation,  in  which  I  have  ever  taken  the  greatest 
felicity." 

He  enjoyed  his  situation  at  Eton  for  about  fourteen 
years;  when  he  died  in  December,  1639,  ^''  72- 

In  his  latter  age,  he  "went  usually  once  a  year,  if  not 
oftener,  to  the  beloved  Boughton  Hail,  where  he  would 
say,  '  He  found  a  cure  for  all  cares  by  the  chearful  com- 
pany, which  he  called  the  living  furniture  of  the  place, 
and  a  restoration  of  his  strength,  by  the  connaturalness 
of  that,  which  he  called  his  genial  air." 

He  yearly  went  to  Oxford.  But  the  summer  before- 
his  death,  he  changed  that  for  a  journey^  to  Winchester 
College,  to  which  school  he  was  first  removed  from 
Boughton.  And  as  he  returned  from  Winchester  towards 
Eton  College,  said  to  a  friend  his  companion  in  that 
journey,  "  How  useful  was  that  advice  of  a  holy  monk, 
who  persuaded  his  friend  to  perform  his  customary  de- 
votions in  a  constant  place,  because  in  that  place  we 
usually  meet  with  those  very  thoughts  which  possessed 
us  at  our  last  being  there;  and  I  find  it  thus  far  experi- 
mentally true,  that  my  now  being  at  that  school,  and 
seeing  that  very  place,  where  I  sat  when  I  was  a  boy, 
occasions  me  to  remember  those  very  thoughts  of  my 

p  3    ,,  youth 


314 

youth  which  then  possessed  me:  sweet  thoughts,  indeed,' 
that  promised  my  growing  years  numerous  pleasures 
without  mixtures  of  cares  *  and  those  to  be  enjoyed, 
when  time  (which  I  therefore  thought  slow  pacedj  had 
changed  my  youth  to  manhood — but  age  and  experience 
have  taught  me,  that  those  were  but  empty  hopes;  for  [ 
have  always  found  it  true,  as  our  Saviour  did  foretell, 
'  Sufficient  Jor  the  day  is  ike  evil  thereof.'  Never- 
theless T  saw  there  a  succession  of  boys  using  the  same 
recreations,  and  questionless,  possessed  with  the  same 
thoughts,  that  then  possessed  me.  Thus  one  generation 
succeeds  another,  both  in  their  lives,  recreations,  hopes, 
fears,  and  death." 

After  his  return  from  Winchester  to  Eton,  which  was 
about  five  months  before  his  death,  he  became  much 
more  retired  and  contemplative,  in  which  time  he  was 
often  visited  by  the  learned  Mr.  John  Hales,  then  a  Fel- 
low of  that  '-  ollege ;  to  whom  he  one  day  spoke  to  th;s 
effect:  "  1  have  in  my  passage  to  my  grave,  met  with 
most  of  those  joys  of  which  a  discursive  soul  is  capable; 
and  been  entertained  with  more  inferior  pleasures  than 
the  sons  of  men  are  usually  made  partakers  of.  Never- 
theless in  this  voyage  I  have  not  always  floated  on  the 
calm  sea  of  content,  but  have  often  met  with  cross  winds 
and  storms,  and  with  many  troubles  of  mind,  and  temp- 
tations to  evil.  And  yet,  though  I  have  been,  and  am  a 
man  compassed  about  with  human  frailties.  Almighty 
God  hath  by  his  grace  prevented  me  from  making  ship- 
wreck of  faith  and  a  good  conscience,  the  thought  of 
\vhich  is  now  the  joy  of  my  heart;  and  1  most  humbly 

*  It  has  been  more  th.m  once  remarked,  and,  among  others, 
by  the  present  writer  twenty-two  years  ago,  Iiow  much  this  re* 
minds  one  of  these  beautiful  lines  of  Gray  : 

*'  Ah!  happy  hills;  ah,  pleasing  shade ?- 
Ah  ticlds  belov'd  in  vain! 
Where  once  my  careless  childhood  stray 'd, 

A  stranger  yet  to  pain  ! 
I  feel  the  gales,  that  from  ye  blow, 
A  momentary  bliss  bestow, 

As  waving  fresh  their  gladsome  wing, 
Wy  weary  soul  they  seem  to  sooth. 
And  redolent  of  joy  and  youth 
Tp  bfeath  a  second  spring  !" 

praise 


515 

praise  him  for  it:  and  I  humbly  acknowledge  that  it  was 
not  myself,  but  he  that  hath  kept  fne  to  this  great  age, 
and  let  him  take  the  glory  of  his  great  mercy.  And,  my 
dear  friend,  I  now  see  that  I  draw  near  my  harbour  of 
death;  that  harbour  that  will  secure  me  from  all  the 
future  storms  and  waves  of  this  restless  world;  and  I 
praise  God  I  am  willing  to  leave  it,  and  expect  a  better; 
that  world  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness,  and  1  long 
for  it." 

"  Thus,"  concludes  Walton^  "  the  circle  of  Sir  Henry 
Wotton's  life,  that  circle  which  begun  at  Boughton,* 
and  in  the  circumference  thereof  did  first  touch  at  Win- 
chester school,  then  at  Oxford,  and  after,  upon  so  many 
remarkable  parts  and  passages  in  Christendom;  that 
circle  of  his  life  was  by  death  closed  up  and  completed, 
in  the  seventy-second  year  of  his  age,  at  Eton  College, 
where,  according  to  his  will,  he  now  iieS  buried,  with  his 
motto  on  a  plain  grave-stone  over  him.  Dying  worthy 
of  his  name  and  family;  worthy  of  the  love  and  favour 
of  so  many  princes  and  persons  of  eminent  wisdom  and 
Jearning ;  worthy  of  the  trust  committed  unto  him  for 
the  service  of  his  Prince  and  country." 

Cowley  wrote  a  well-known  elegy  on  Sir  Henry  Wot- 
ton,  beginning 

"  What  shall  we  say,  since  silent  now  is  he. 

Who  when  he  spoke  f  all  things  would  silent  be." 

Though  some  abatement  must  be  allowed  to  panegyric, 
it  is  admirably  appropriate  to  his  character.  Johnson 
pronounced  it  vigorous  and  happy. 

fsaac  Walton  collected  Sir  Henry's  Literary  Remains, 
and  published  them  under  the  title  of  Rklioui^  Wot- 
tonianjE;  or  a  Collection  of  Lives,  Letters,  Poems,  % 
with  Characters  of  Sundry  Personages :  and  other  in- 
eomparahle  pieces  of  language  and  art.     By  the  curious 

*  Boughton  has  for  a  celitury  been  dilapidated  to  a  farm-house. 
It  is,  or  lately  was  part  of  the  property  of  Sir  Horace  Mann,  Bart. 

■f  Which  by  the  by  is  not  grammar. 

X  Among  these  are  some  Poems  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  which 
will  be  hereafter  noticed. 

F  +  pencil 


ij6 

pencil  of  the  ever  mentoralile  Sir  IJerify  IVotton,  Kf. 
late  Provost  of  Eaton  CoUedge.  London,  1651,  1654, 
1672,  with  additional  Letters,  8vo.  1685,  with  letters 
to  Lord  Zouch. 

T.  Warton,  in  his  Notes  to  Milton's  Comns,  has  in 
a  different  tone  from  his  usual  liberality  of  sentiment 
pronounced  Sir  Henry /o  be  "  though  a  polite  scholar, 
pn  the  whole  a  mixed  and  desultory  character." 

In  a  strict  sense  this  may  be  true,  but  surely  not  in 
the  way  of  censure.  He  mingled  the  character  of  an 
active  statesman  with  (hat  of  a  recluse  scholar ;  and  he 
wandered  from  the  crooked  and  thorny  intrigues  of  diplo- 
macy into  the  flowery  paths  of  the  Muses.  But  is  it  not 
high  praise  to  have  been  thus  desultory  ? 

Sir  Henry  had  the  taste  to  be  among  the  first,  who 
were  delighted  with  Milton's  exquisite,  and  mostoriginal. 
Mask  of  Comus.  "  But,"  says  Warton,  "  Sir  Henry's 
conceptions  did  not  reach  to  the  higher  poetry  of  Comus. 
He  was  rather  struck  with  the  pastoral  mellifluence  of  its 
lyrick  measures,  which  he  styles  a  certain  Dorique 
delicacy  in  the  songs  and  odes,  than  with  its  graver  and 
more  majestic  tones,  with  the  solemnity  and  variety  of 
its  peculiar  tone  of  original  invention.  This  drama  was 
not  to  be  generally  characterized  by  its  songs  and  odes': 
nor  do  I  know  that  softness  and  sweetness  are  particularly 
characteristical  of  those  passages,  which  are  most  com- 
monly rough  with  strong  and  crowded  images,  and  rich 
in  perspnificaiion.  However,  the  song  to  Echo,  and 
the  initial  strains  of  Comiis's  Invitation,  are  much  in  the 
style  which  Wotton  describes."  Ipsa  mollities  are  the 
words  of  Wotton ;  and  it  is  almost  hypercriticism  to  say 
that  It  does  not  apply.  Exquisite  beauty  and  sweetiifss 
of  imagery,  if  not  softness  of  language,  distinguishes 
these  inimitable  lyrics.  The  song  to  Echo  is  indeed 
harmony  itself.     And  how  beautiful  is  this — 

"  By  the  rushy-fi-inged  bank. 
Where  grows  the  willow  and  the  osier  dank. 

My  sliding  chariot  stays. 
Thick  set  with  agate,  and  the  azure  sheen 
Pf  turkis  blue,  and  emerald  green, 
•r|iat  in  the  channel  strays.  ' 

Whilst . 


«I7 

Whilst  from  oflF  the  waters  fleet 
Thus  I  set  my  printless  feet. 
O'er  the  cowslip's  velvet  head. 
That  bends  not  as  I  tread." 

But  It  may  be  true,  that  Sir  Henry's  genius  was  not 
suited  to  the  higher  conceptions  of  Milton.  His  mind 
was  subtle  and  elegant  rather  than  sublime.  In  truth, 
the  habits  of  a  diplomatist,  and  of  a  great  poet,  are  alto- 
gether incompatible.  The  reserve  and  caution  of  the  one 
cannot  co-exist  with  the  wild  and  erratic  excursions  of 
the  other.  One  njust  be  perpetually  watchful  of  the  cor- 
rect movements  of  man  in  his  most  disguised  and  arti- 
ficial state;  the  other  loves  only  to  be  conversant  with 
the  best  parts  of,  our  nature,  and  those  somewhat  im- 
proved and  heightened  above  reality. 

But  for  moral  and  didactic  poetry  the  experience  of  a 
statesman  does  not  disqualify  him.  On  the  contrary,  it 
sometimes  gives  a  force  and  sincerity  t^  his  sentiments, 
which  inspires  them  with  the  breathing  eloquence- of 
the  heart.     Thus  the  following  touching  stanzas : 

"  TJpon  the  sudden  restraint  of  the  Karl  of  Somerset,  *■ 
then  falling  from  favour. 

\. 

"  Dazzled  thus  with  height  of  place. 
Whilst  our  hopes  our  wits  beguile. 
No  man  marks  the  narrow  space 
'Twixt  a  prison  and  a  smile. 

2. 

Then  since  Fortune's  favours  fade, 

You  that  in  her  arras  do  sleep, 
Learn  to  swim,  and  not  to  wade. 

For  the  hearts  of  Kings  are  deep, 

3. 

But  if  greatness  be  so  blind. 

As  to  trust  in  towers  of  air, 
Letit  be  with  goodness  lin'd. 

That  at  least  the  fall  be  fair. 

*  Car,  the  favourite  of  King  James  I. 

4.  Then 


2l8 

u. 

Then  though  darken'd  you  shall  Say, 
When  friends  fail  and  Princes  frown. 

Virtue  is  the  roughest  way. 

But  proves  at  night  a  bed  of  down." 

Or  these : 

"  The  Character  of  a  Happy  Life. 

1. 

"  How  happy  is  he  born  and  taught. 
That  serveth  not  another's  will  ? 
Whose  armour  is  his  honest  thought. 
And  simple  Truth  his  utmost  skill  i 

2. 

Whose  passions  not  his  master's  are, 

.  Whose  soul  is  still  prepar'd  for  death ; 
Untied  unto  the  world  by  care 
Of  public  fame,  or  private  breath. 

3. 

Who  envies  none  that  chance  doth  raise. 
Nor  vice  hath  ever  understood; 

How  deepest  wounds  are  given  by  praise. 
Nor  rules  of  state,  but  rules  of  good. 

4. 
Who  hath  his  life  from  rumours  freed. 

Whose  conscience  is  his  strong  retreat: 
Whose  state  can  neither  flatterers  feed, 
»  Nor  ruin  make  oppressors  great- 

5. 
Who  God  doth  late  and  early  pray 

More  of  his  grace  than  gifts  to  lend; 
And  entertains  the  harmless  day 

With  a  religious  book,  or  friend, 

6. 

This  man  is  freed  from  servile  bands 
Of  hope  to  rise,  or  fear  to  fall : 

Jiord  of  himself,  though  not  of  lands, 
An^  having  nothing,  yet  bath  all," 


I  need 


219 

1  need  not  remind  the  reader  of  Sir  Henry's  most 
beautiful  and  well-known  lines  on  his  adored  mistress, 
the  Queen  of  Bohemia,  beginning 

"  You  meaner  beauties  of  the  night/'  &c. 

as  they  are  to  be  found  in  most  Collections. 

Sir  Henry  lived  in  an  age  of  pedantry,  and  metaphysi- 
cal jai^on,  which  somewhat  infected  his  purer  taste,  and 
urged  him  sometimes  to  quaintness,  and  a  search  after 
remote  resemblances,  in  his  prose  compositions.  He 
could  never  otherwise  have  been  induced  to  attempt  A 
Parallel  between  the  characters  of  the  Earl  of  Essex 
and  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  who  seemed  to  have  nothing 
similar  but  the  favour  of  their  respective  but  most  oppo- 
site Sovereigns.  This  called  forth  in  his  younger  days 
the  superior  pen  of  the  Earl  of  Clarendon,  who  has  shewn 
the  Disparity  with  great  acuteness  and  energy  of  Ian-, 
guage. 

Yet  there  are  many  very  curious  passages  in  Sir 
Henry's  Parallel.  Though  Sir  Henry  was  under  the 
Earl's  patronage  a  little  before  that  unfortunate  Peer's 
fall,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  conceived  a  great  attach* 
ment  to  him.  It  seems  there  were  factions  in  the  Earl's 
house;  and  perhaps  Sir  Henry  found  Lord  Essex  too 
ductile  to  the  artifices  of  such  men  as  Henry  Cuffe, 
whose  character  he  draws  with  a  laconic  but  vigorous 
pen.  Sir  Henry  was  a  man  of  keen  sense,  now  matured 
by  all  the  experience  of  some  years  conversation  abroad, 
sharpened  by  the  pressiire  of  adversity.  The  Earl  had  a 
flowing,  indiscreet,  and  ungoverned  understanding,  which 
often,  I  doubt  not,  raised  the  disgust  of  the  other.  "  To 
consider  Essex  and  Buckingham,"  B9,ys  Wotton,  "  in 
their  pure  naturals,  I  consider  the  Earl's  intellectual 
faculties  to  have  been  his  stronger  part;  and  in  the 
Duke  his  practical."  Here  the  partiality  breaks  out; 
otherwise  what  literary  man  would  set  practice  against 
intellect  ?  Buckingham  seems  to  have  been  a  mere  man 
of  b()dily  attractions,  with  a  high  degree  of  mental  pr^-; 
sumption.  To  compare  a  person  of  the  high  birih'and 
fortunes  of  Essex,  who  attracted  by  his  splendid  quali/iea- 
tions  that  notice  from  the  court,  which  he  not  only  dis- 
dained 


<I.iined  to  solicit,  but  too  wantonly  scorned  or  neglected 
when  offered,  with  one  who  rose  from  a  comparatively 
scure  station*  as  a  minion  to  aKin<^,  for  whose  caresses; 
no  promotions  could  make  amends,  is  a  most  unjust  and 
ill  judged  degradation  to  the  former.  The  rise  of  Bucking- 
ham is  a  disgrace  to  the  English  history,  admitting  that 
he  bad  some  amiable  private  qualities. 

Essex  was  one,  whose  great  and  whose  weak  traits  were 
so  nearly  balanced  as  to  make  it  doubtful  whether,  he  de- 
serves the  eminence  he  hais  attained.  But  his  faults  were 
generally  allied  to  virtues;  and  if  our  judgment  approve 
not,  our  affections  almost  always  go  with  him. 

To  Buckingham  nothing  but  the  excessive  splendour 
of  his  fortunes  could  have  blinded  his  cotemporaries. 
What  single  quality  had  he  of  a  man  who  merited  to  be 
great?  Had  he  intellect,  knowledge,  experience,  prudence,; 
or  even  private  morals?  He  was  childish,  selfish,  rash, 
insolent,  and  ungrateful.  And  what  praise  cotild  he, 
claim?  That  he  had  a  handsome  person,  was  splendid  in 
his  apparel,  elegant  in  his  manners,  and  profuse  in  his 
household  !  "  He  had,"  says  Clarendon,  "  an  admirable 
affability  and  gentleness  to  all  nren." 

But  to  return  to  the  character  of  Sir  Henry  Wotton. 
This  celebrated  man  seems  to  have  lived  in  a  perpetual 
struggle  between  his  curiosity  regarding  the  world,  fo- 
mented by  his  ambition,  and  his  love  of  books  contem-* 
plation  and  quiet.  His  letters  to  Sir  Edmund  Bacon, 
who  married  his  niece,  prove  his  strong  family  affections. 
His  heart  appears  to  have  been  moulded  with  a  high  de- 
gree of  moral  tenderness.  This  both  the  sentiments  at- 
Iribiited  to  him  by  Walton,  and  the  cast  of  his  poems^ 
sufficiently  evince. 

He  was  a  great  scholar;  and  more  especially  skilled 
in  languages;  and  on  these  acquisitions  Cowley's  Elegy 
principally  expatiates. 

When  a  man  who  is  qualified  to  shine  in  the  world  by 
his  intellectual  powers,  loves  solitude,  it  is  generally  for 
the  purpose  of  giving  a  wider  scope  to  his  ideas.     And 

*  "  His  ancestors,"  s.iys  Wottqn,  "  had  continued  at  Brookeby. 
in  Leicesters-hire,.  for  about  4.00  years,  rather  without  cbscuritj? 
tbjn  with  any  great  lustre."  ' 

how 


221 

how  few  are  there  thus  endowed,  who  do  not  love  soli- 
tude? Nor  though  it  be  the  theme  of  most  poets,  wiil 
it  easily  be  exhausted.  The  pressure  of  the  world 
elbows  us,  and  ties  us  down :  I  would  never  trust  the 
head,  or  the  heart  which  is  not  touched  with  the  charms 
of  solitude. 

How  beautiful  is  that  expression  of  Sir  Henry  regard- 
ing his  visit  to  the  hall  of  his  nativity  that  he  there 
'■'found  a  restoration  of  his  strength  by  the  connatural- 
ness  of  that,  which  he  called  his  genial  air.'"  Thirty 
years  have  passed  since  I  strayed  over  the  fields  where 
he  was  born  ;  but  I  have  not  yet  forgot  the  sensations  I 
experiencedat  his  memory;  orthe  fairy  light  which  was 
thrown  by  my  fancy  upon  the. scene: 

inspiring  shade 


By  godlike  poets  venerable  made  1" 

When  he  came  back  to  the  hall  of  his  boyhood,  and 
ffelt  the  very  "  gales  redolent  of  joy  and  youth  that 
-breathed  a  second  spring,"  when  he  reposed  beneath  the 
re/erend  groves  that  had  shaded  his  ancestors,  he  not 
only  looked  backward  vvith  a  kind  of  painful  pleasure; 
but  probably  flattered  himself  that  there  his  name  should 
remain  in  honour  for  ages  to  come,  and  enshrine  hisowii 
reputation  with  all  the  mellowed  and  increasing  softness 
which  is  produced  by  time.  But  alas  !  the  next  genera- 
tion saw  the  name  end;  and  in  less  than  a  century  every 
.acre  of  the  domain  was  passed  into  the  hands  of  strangers 
to  his  blood.  I  remember  it  was  a  day  of  contending 
storms  and  sunshine,  towards  the  close  of  autumn,  when 
we  visited  it;  the  appearance  of  the  skies  cherished  the 
wild  workings  of  the  fancy;  we  were  received  at  the  hos- 
pitable table  of  a  friend  now  gone  to  his  grave,  from 
whose  windows  we  looked  over  a  vast  expanse  of  country; 
OTcr  "hamlets  grey  and  dim -discovered  spires;"  while 
eveniniT  was  drawing  her  mantle  over  them.  Night 
came  on  with  tremendous  darkness;  and  many  a  long 
mile  had  we  to  traverse  over  a  wild  and  intricate  country 
before  we  went  to.  our  rest.  At  this  very  moment  f 
recollect  it  with  the  kind  of  feeling  of  a  vivid  and  loman- 
tio  dream.  But  oh!  how  few  expeetalions  of  that  en-- 
thusiastic  period  of  life  have  been  realized  !  Shy,  re . 
'■  served. 


zzz 

served,  tremulous,  silent,  with  the  appearance  of  more 
than  ordinary  deficiency,  I  had  the  presumption  to  be 
nursing  visions  of  a  career  of  splendid  fame;  of  works  of 
pure,  brilliant,  and  original  fancy ;  of  tales  that  should 
melt  every  heart,  and  enchain  every  imagination!  Alas! 
how  have  I  fallen!  To  be  a  dull  and  inventionless 
antiquary !  A  transcriber  of  otscure  title-pages,  and  a 
compiler  of  uninteresting  facts!  But  thy  memory,  iri- 
geuious  Wotton,  still  lives  in  my  parched  brain !  The 
black-letter  mania  has  not  exhausted  my  love  for  that 
gallant  and  accomplished  spirit,  which  could  dictate  the 
affecting  lines  to  the  lovely  Empress  *  of  thy  heart, 
whose  affecting  and  dignified  misfortunes  must  interest 
every  tender  bosom  ! 
While  they,  who  were 

.  nati  consumere  fruges, 

who  passed  their  lives  in  a  selfish  ease  and  luxury,  have 
perished  from  remembrance,  leaving  no  relics  but  the 
dust  to  which  they  are  returned,  thy  virtues,  thy  ac- 
quirements, thy  genius,  Sir  Henry,  shall  record  thee 
among  the  worth  ies  of  thy  country !  f  B. 

March  13,  i8ir. 


^  TheActls  andConstitutiounis  of  the  Realme  of  Scot" 
land  maid  in  Parliamentis  fialdin  he  the  rycht  ex- 
cellent, hie  and  mychtie  Princeis  kingis  James  the 
First,  Seaind,  Thrid,  Feird,  Fyft,  and  in  tyrjie  of 
Marie  now  Queue  of  Scottis,  viseity  correctit,  and 
extraclitftiTtk  of  the  Registers  he  the  Lordis  depute 
be  hir  Maiesteis  speciall  commissioun  thairto.  Jinno 
Do.  1566.  [This  forms  a  head  title  over  the  royal  arms, 
which  occupies  remainder  of  the  page.  Col.j  Im- 
prentit  at  Edinburgh  he  Robert  Lekpreuik  the.  xxviij, 

*  The  Queen  of  Bohemia,  daugliter  of  King  James  I. 
■\  It  is  hoped  the  reader  will,  for  once,  excuse  this  digression, 
and  apostiTjphe,  when  he  considers  how  tiresome  it  is  to  be  always 
confined  to  the  mere  repetition  of  trite  facts,  of  which  the  want  of 
novelty  is  sure  to  incur  the  censure  of  tedious  dulness — as  the 
present  licence  will  pi-obably  do  of  impertinence— at  least  from 
every  cold  heart. 

day 


2  '7  2 

day  of  Nouemher,  the  zeir  of  God  ane  thousand  fyue 
hundreth  thre  scoir  sax  zeiris.  *  Fbl. .  Clxxxii  leaves. 

Back  of  the  tiile  the  Queen's  Privilege,  followed  by 
the  Commission  for  printing  the  volume.  As  a  specimen 
of  the  language  take 

"  The  Preface  to  the  Redar. 

"  It  is  maist  certane,  that  na  thing  is  swa  eirnistlie  to  be 
socht  and  straitlie  keipit,  as  the  knawlege  of  the  lawis  and 
thair  authoritie.     Because  the  lawis  rychllie  disponis,  and  or- 
douris  to  the  best  baith  godlie,  and  manlie  effairis,  aqd  banisis 
thairout  all  iniquitie.   Thay  ar  the  gift  of  God,  the  statute  and 
decreit  of  wyse  men,  the  amending  and  rychting  of  forlhoct, 
and  suddane  faultis,  the  commoun  promeis,  band,  and  obliga- 
tioun  of  the  Realme,  and  of  ilk  member  thairof  to  vther,  efter 
the  quhilk  it  appertenis  all  the  saidis  member  to  leid  ihair  lyfe, 
gif  thay  will  not  onlie  leif,  bot.als  manerlie,  weill,  and  godlie 
leif.     Andlyke  as  ilk  man  aucht  and  sould  seik  the  vnder^ 
standing  of  the  laviris,  that  thay  may  cast  thame  with  all  thair 
intent  to  obserue,  and  keip  the  samin :  Rychtswa  it  is  the  office 
of  the  Souerane  powar,  and  of  the  magistratis,  and  officiaris 
constitute  vnder  the  samin,  to  cause  publis  and  mak  patent 
the  lawis,  to  the  effect  foirsaid,  as  we  see  the  Israelitis,  At  he- 
nienis,  the  Romanis,  and  vthers  pepill  and  impyis  lauchfullie 
reulit,  and  thairby  lang  lestand,  and  continewand  in  prosperi- 
tie,  had  thair  statutis  and  ordinancis  ingraifit,  or  writtin  in  ta- 
billis,  and  lixit  in  the  maist  publique  and  patent  placis,  cr  in- 
roUit,  bukit,  and  solempnitlie  red  to. all  the  pepill.     And  als 
all  Weill  maid  constitutioun  contenis  in  the  self  ane  prouision, 
that  it  be  proclamit  and  publist.     Misknawlege  is  ane  maner 
and  kynde  of  excusaiioun  to  mony  men  of  thair  fault,  albeit 
the  law  sayis,  thair  is^  nor  sould  be  na  excusatioun  to  the  man 
pretenand  ignorance  of  the  law.  Qubairfoir  ?  Because  the  law 
is  vnderstand  to  be  notifeit,  and  publist  to  all  man,  and  thay 
sould  seik  to  the  knawlege  thairof.     Thairfoir  our  Souerane 
Lady  seing  the  lawis,  and  actis  of  hir  maist  nobill  progenitourts 
to  be  for  the  maist  part  vnknawin,  but  to  the  jugeis,  and  men 
of  law,  ancl  zit  the  samin  to  be  throuch  ignorance  of  the  co- 
pistis  confusit  and  full  of  errourls,  hes  maist  commendablie  and 
Conuenientlie  to  hir  Royall  estate  and  Maiestie,  and  maist  gra- 
tiouslie  for  the  Weill  of  hir  subiectis,  geuin  commissioun  to 
certane  nobill  and  leirnit  Lordis,  hir  traist  eouusalouris,  to 

•  This  date,  tliough  registered  by  Ames,  Typ.  Anq.  174.9, 
p,  580,  is  omitted  by  Herbert,  who  only  gives  that  of  the  "xij  cjf 
October,"  preceding:'  see  p.  1489 — Bibl.  West.  No.  3420-  zt.  zs. 

sycht. 


2Z4 

sycht,  considder,  correct  and  cause  publis  in  prent  the  haiH  body 
of  the  lawis  of  this  hir  realrne.     In  the  vndcrtaking  of  the 
quhilk  charge  and  work  the  "saidis  Lordis  thocht  it  maist  expe 
dient  for  the  present,  to  begin  at  thf  mending,  and  furthset- 
tingof  ihe  actis  of  Parliamentis  haldin  be  kingis  James  the 
First,  Secund,  Thrid,  Feird,  Fyft,  and  be  hir  Maiesteis  powar 
hauand,  &  hir  self,  and  thairefter  in  all  gudlie  diligence  to  reik 
&  extend  thair  cure  to  the  emendatioun  and  publicatioun  of 
the  precedent  and  mair  ancient  lawis,  the  quhilkis,  as  thay  ar 
niair  difEcil)  to  be  decernit  on:  swa  thay  reqoyre  langar  tyme 
to  thair  dew  cbrrectioun.     And  albeit  nane  of  all  the  Lordis 
Commissaris  can  be  praisit  anench,  and  proportionaliie  to  thair 
worthynes  for  the  Irauell  and  diligence  takin  be  tbame  in  this 
present  editiouii  and  outset,  zit  in  speciall  with  all  mennis  fa- 
uouris,  twa  of  the  saidis  Lordis  are  to  be  remembrit  and  com- 
mendit:  thay  ar  to  say,  ane  Reuerend  Father  in  God  Johne 
Bischop  of  Ros  Lord  of  our  Soueranis  Secreit  counsall  and  of 
hir  College  of  Justice,  for  his  suggestioun  to  our  Souerane  of 
this  notabill  purpose,  eiruistfiiU  performing  of  the  said  coni- 
missioun  and  cure  in  conuening  of  my  Lordis  Commissaris  his 
colligis,  and  liberalitie  in  the  furthsetting  of  this  imprenting : 
and  Schir  Jarhes  Balfour  of  Pettindreith  knycht  Clerk  of  the 
Register,  &c.     For  his  sinceir,  afald  and  glaid  concarrance  to 
pertyte  this  wark,  and  exhibitioun  of  the  originailis  out  of  the 
Register,  andmaking  of  thame  patent  at  all  tymes,  on  na  wayis 
regardand  his  awin  particulare  outherproffeit  or  gloir,  hot  onlie 
the  commoun  Weill  of  the  Realme.     It  restis  to  exhort  all  pur 
Souerane  Ladyis  liegis  to  diligentlie  mark  and  considder  thair 
awin  dewtie  and  office  expressit  in  this  law  buke,  and  to  ex- 
presse  and  manifest  the  samin  be  leiding  of  thair  lyfe  confornie 
thairto  in  word  and  deid,  sercheand  heirout  doctrine  of  treuth 
■and  obedience  to  the  Princeis,  thair  Magistratis  and  Officiaris 
of  J  ustice :  off  honest  lyfe,  of  abstinence  fra  iniuring  and  hurt- 
ane  a  vther:  off  geuing  to  ilk  persoun  his  awin  :  off  lauchfuU 
conquesing,  keiping,  and  annalying  of  lindis,  gudis  and  geir: 
and  als  to  thank  our  Souerane  of  hir  directioun  and  commis- 
sioun,  and  the  Lordis  for  the  trauell  takin  be  thame  tliairin  : 
fynallie  to  accept  and  embrace  this  haill  laubour  with  sic  be- 
neuolence  and  gentiU  hart,  that  occasioun  be  geuin  efterwart, 
that  the  rest  of  the  auld  lawis  of  Scotland  be  brocht  to  lycht, 
and  pu-  in  the  liegis  handis  to  be  commounlie  red  and  vnder- 
stand  with  greit  frute  and  plesure  to  the  honour  of  God,  trew 
obedience  to  our  Soueranis,  and  to  the  weill  particular  of  ilk 
persoun,  and  commoun  of  the  haill  Realme. 

EnvARD  Henrison."* 

*  * 

•  ■See  Sibbald's  Chronicle  of  Scottish  Poetry,  Vol.  I.  p.  87-90. 


3^5 


%  Of  the  iinowledeg  whiche  maketh  a  i^,ise  man. 
Londmi  in  adihvs  Thovf,cys  Bertkelefh  M-  P^XXXIII. 
Cvm  primlegm.  Oct.  pp.  107,  withc?P:t  Intrp4i;p^ 
tion. 


This  Y^ork  is  by  Sir  Thpmas  E^lyipt,  a  writer  tpp  vvell 
known  to  need  a  comment.  Had  he  lefi;  no  other  me- 
morial of  his  talents  than  th^  Moke  nqmed  t^e  Gpv£K- 
nour,  it  would  have  been  sufficieat  to  preserve  his  name 
to  posterity.  Of  the  first  reception  of  that  work,  which 
afterwards  passed  many  editions,  the  author  has  given  a 
minute  account  in  his  preface  to  the  present  article. 

"  TKe  proheme  of  syr  Thomas  Elyot,  Knyghte :  God, 
vnto  whome  all  mens  hartis  he  opened  and  the  wyll  of  manne 
speakethe,  is  my  wytnes,  that  to  the  desire  of  kqowlpge,  whfr- 
vnto  1  haue  hither  to  ben  euer  of  my  nature  disposed,  I  h:^vie 
ioyned  a  constant  intent  to  profyte  therby  to  my  natural  coun- 
tr%-:  wher  vnto  acordyng  to  th^  sentence  of  TuUy,  ■vye  he 
most  specially  bou~den.  Wherfore  after  that  I  had  applypd 
the  more  parte  of  my  lyfe  in  perusynge  diligently  euery  3un- 
cient  warke,  that  I  moaght  come  by,  eyther  Qreke  or  Laljne, 
conteyninge  any  parte  of  philosophie  necessary  tp  the  institu- 
tion of  mans  lyfe  in  vertue,  I  haue  endpuored  my  selfp  to  set 
forth  such  part  of  ray  studie  as  I  thought  raoiight  he  profitable 
to  them,  whiche  shulde  happen  to  rede  or  here  it.  5ut  diners 
men  rather  scornyng  my  benefite  than  receyuing  it  thankfully 
doo  shewe  them  selfes  offended  (as  they  ^^y)  with  my  strange 
termes.  Other  finding  in  my  hokis  the  tjiing  dispreys(sd, 
whiche  they  do  co''mende  in  vsinge  it.  Lyke'  a  galde  horse 
abidynge  no  playsters  be  alwaye  gnappynge  and  kyckynge  at 
suche  examples  and  sentences  as  they  do^  feele  sharpe  pr  da 
byte  them,  accomptyng  to  be  in  me  no  lyttell  presumption 
that  I  wylle  in  nptynge  other  mens  vices  correct  Magnificat, 
sens  other  moche  wyser  men  and  betier  lerned  than  I,  doQ 
forbeare  to  wryte  any  thynge.  And  whiche  is  warse  than  all 
this:  some  wyll  maliciously  diuine  or  coniepte  that  I  vyryte  to 
the  intent  to  rebuke  some  perticuler  person  cquaytinge  tp 
brynge  my  warkes,  and  afterward  me  into  the  indignation  of 
some  man  in  auctorie. 

"  Thus  vnlhankfuUy  is  my  benefytc  receyued,  fpy  good 

wyll  consumed  and  all  my  labours  deuoured.   Such  is  of  some 

VOL.  II.  «  liienne 


i26 

mcnne  the  nature  serpentine,  that  lappyng  swete  mylke  they 
conuerte  hit  forthewith  in  to  poyson,  to  distroy  hym  of  whose 
liberalitie  they  late  had  receyued  it.  How  incomparable  be 
these  menvnlyke  to  the  most  excellent  prince  our  most  derc 
soueraygne  lorde?  whose  most  royall  persone  1  hartilybe- 
seche  God  to  preserue  in  longe  life  and  honour.  His  High- 
nesse  benignely  receyuynge  my  boke,  whiche  I  named  the 
Gouernour,  in  the  redynge  therof  sone  perceyued  that  I  in- 
tended to  augment  our  Eriglyshe  tongue,  wherbymen  shulde 
as  well  expresse  more  abundantly  the  ihynge  that  they  con- 
ceyued  in  theyr  hartis  (wherfore  language  was  ordeyned)  • 
hauynge  wordes  apt  for  the  pourpose  :  as  also  interprete  out  of 
Greke,Latyn,or  any  other  tonge  into  Englysshe,  as  sufficiently, 
as  out  of  any  one  of  the  said  tongues  into  an  other.  His  grace 
also  perceyued,  that  through  out  the  boke  there  was  no  lerme 
new  made  by  roe  of  a  Latine  or  Frenche  worde,  but  it  is  there 
declared  so  playnly  by  one  mene  or  other  to  a  diligent  reder 
that  no  sente'ce  is  therby  made  derke  or  harde  to  be  vnder-  ■ 
stande.  Ne  the  sharpe  and  quycke  sentences,  or  the  rounde 
and  playne  examples  set  out  in  the  versis  of  Claudiane  the 
poetein  the  seconde  boke,  or  in  the  chapiters  of  AfFablitie, 
Beneuolence,  Beneficence,  and  of  the  diuersitie  offlaterers, 
and  in  dyuers  other  places  in  any  parte  offended  his  hyghnes : 
but  (as  hit  was  by  credible  persones  reported  vnto  me)  his 
grace  not  onely  toke  hit  in  the  better  parte,  but  also  with 
princely  wordes  ful  of  maiestie  co~me~ded  my  dilige~ce,  simpli- 
citie  &  corage  in  that  I  spared  none  astate  in  the  rebukynge  of 

vice Our  moste  dere  soueraygne  lorde  perfectly  knew  that 

no  writar  ought  to  be  blamed  whiche  wryteth  neyther  for  hope 
of  temporall  lewarde,  nor  for  any  priuate  disdayne  or  malyccj 
but  onely  of  ferue"t  aele  towarde  good  occupation  and  vertu. 
Perdie  man  is  not  so  yet  co~formed  in  grace,  that  he  can  not 
do  syn.  And  I  suppose  no  prince  thynkethe  hymselfe  to  be 
exempte  from  mortalitie,  And  for  as  moche  as  he  shall  haue 
mo  occasio~s  to  fall,  he  ought  to  haue  the  moo  frendes  or  the 
more  instruction  to  warne  hym.  And  as  for  my  parte  I  efte- 
sones  do  protest,  that  in  no  boke  of  mi  making  I  haue  intRuded 
to  touche  more  one  manne  then  an  other.  For  there  be  Gna- 
thos  in  Spayije  as  wel  as  in  Grece,  Pasquilles  in  Englande  as 
welle  as  in  Rome,  Dionises  in  Germanye  as  welle  as  in  Sicile, 
Harpocrates,  in  France  as  wel  as  in  Aegipt,  Aristippus  in  Scot- 
lande  as  well  as  in  Cyrena;  Platos  be  fewe  and  thera  I  double 
where  to  fynde.  And  if  men  wyll  seke  for  thera  in  Englande 
whiche  I  sette  in  other  places,  I  can  nat  lette  them.  I  knowe 
well  ynowghe  dyuers  do  delyte  to  haue  their  garmentes  of  the 

facion 


22-] 

facion  of  other  conntreyes,  and  that  wbicbe  is  roooste  playne 
is  vnplesant :  but  yet  it  doth  happen  sometyme  that  one  man 
beynge  in  auctorytie  or  fauour  of  his  prince,  beinge  'sene  to 
weare  somme  thing  of  the  old  facion,  for  the  stra'genes  therof 
it  is  taken  vp  ageine  with  many  good  felowes.  What  I  doo  mesne 
euery  wyse  man  perceyueth,  Touchynge  the  title  of  nayboke,! 
considered  that  wisedome  is  spoken  of,  moch  more  than  vsed. 

For  whcrin  it  resteth  fewe  menne  be  sure If  any  man 

wyll  thinke  the  boke  to  be  very  longe,  let  hym  consyder,  that 
knowlege  of  wysedome  can  not  be  shortly  declared.  AH  be 
hit  of  them  whiche  be  well  wyllinge  it  is  soone  lerned,  in  good 
faythe  sooner  than  Primero  or  Gleeke.  Suche  is  the  straunge 
propertie  of  that  excellent  counnynge,  that  it  is  soonerlerned, 
than  taught,  and  better  by  a  mannes  rayson  than  by  an  in- 
structour.  Finally,  if  the  reders  of  my  warkis  by  ihe  noble 
example  of  our  mooste  dere  soueraygne  lorde  do  justly  and 
louyngely'interprete  ray  labours,  I  dtirynge  the  rtsidne  of  my 
lyfe  will  nowe  and  than  sette  forthe  suche  frotes  of  my  study 
profitable  (as  I  trust)  vnto  this  my  countray.  And  leuynge 
malycious  reders  with  their  incurable  fury,  I  wyll  say  vnto  God 
the  wordes  of  theCatholike  Churche  in  the  booke  of  Sapience: 
to  knowe  the  good  lorde  is  perfecte  justice,  and  to  knowe  thy 
justyce  and  vertue  is  the  very  roote  of  iraraonalitie :  and 
therin  is  the  knowlege  that  is  very  wysedome." 

The  work  is  divided  into  five  dialogues,  and  the  inter- 
locutors are  Aristippus  and  Plato.  To  hold  in  little  esti- 
mation the  gifts  and  adversities  of  fortune,  relying  on 
the  impartiality  and  justice  of  a  superior  power,  is  en-, 
forced  by  the  following  passage  from  the  fourth  dia- 
logue. 

"  Fortune  hathe  taken  frome.  the  that,  whiche  she  had 
lent  to  the.  Reuolue  than  in  in  thy  mynde,  that  eyther  those 
thyngeswere  not  good  in  dede  as  they  were  supposed  to  be,  or 
els  man  is  in  better  astate  tha  God  is  hym  selfe,  for  them, 
which  we  haue,  Godvseth  not,  as  carnall  dilectaiion,  plesant 
and  deinti€  meatis,  otient  iewelles,  or  great  treasure  of  moneye, 
these  perteyne  not  to  God.  Than  is  it  to  be  thought  that 
eyther  God  lackith  those  thinges,  that  be  good,  and  tha~lackith 
in  him  beatitude  or  perfection  of  joye;  or  els  hit  is  a  good  ar- 
gumente  that  those  thy  nges  be  not  good,  that  God  wyll  not 
vse,  but  is  contented  to  lacke.  Fynally,  those  be  veri  goodes 
that  be  within  vs  gyuen  by  raison.  For  they  be  sure  and 
durynge,  nor  can  not  decaye  or  minisshe  for  any  occasion. 
They  that  be  withotit  vs,  lent  onely  by  fortune  they  be  good 

a  2  by 


2^8 

by  opinion  onely.  And  though  they  participate  theyr  name 
with  the  other,  yet  is  there  not  in  them  the  pi;opretie  or  nature 
of  goodnes,  for  they  be  not  durable :  &  also  they  be  oftentymes 
the  occasion  of  euyll:  wherfore  they  be  for  the  more  parte 
with  ylle  men  as  moosie  apte  for  their  nature.  And  few  good 
men  haue  them,  or  they  do  contynue  but  a  lyttell  tyme  with 
them,  by  the  iuste  ordynaunce  of  God  k-ste  the  moche  vsynge 
of  them  shuldbryngedilectation  into  the  sences,  whereby  they 
mought  be  prouoked  to  rebell.  And  vnderstandyng,  whiche 
is  occupied  in  co~templation  of  the  diuine  raaiestie  mought  be 
sodaynly  expelled.  And  the  soule  laokynge  counsell  shulde 
gyue  place  to  carnall  aflFections  and  appetites.  Thou  reme~- 
brest  Theognides  yerses. 

God  gyueth  to  ylle  menne  good  fortupe  and  substaunce, 
Whiche  be  not  the  better  to  them  selfe  nor  theyr  frende : 
There  is  ay  lacke,  where  is  inconstance. 
But  honour  of  vertue  doeth  indure  withoute  ende. 

"  Fynally,  there  is  no  gretter  comforte  to  hym  that  is  good, 
than  to  be  sene  in  the  companye  of  good  men.  If  thou  sekeste 
for  a  good  carpenter  or  a  good  smythe,  as  thou  goeste  throughe 
the  cyticj  thou  harkneste  where  is  most  hewyng  or  betynge 
with  hamers,  and  there  thou  goest  in  and  supposest  to  fynde 
hym,  that  thou  lokest  for.  Semblably  if  thou  wylt  haue  a 
good  man,  go  loke  hym  out,  where  thou  herist  that  sharpe 
sicness  raineth,  or  where  iniustice  gouerneth/  wylle  ruleth, 
great  power  oppresseth :  there  shalte  thou  fynde  him  that  thy 
hart  desyreth.  Thou  maist  well  accompt  hym  for  a  great  foole, 
that  to  lyue  double  his  naturall  life,  wolde  not  abyde  to  be 
ones  or  twise  launced  in  the  moste  tendre  part  of  his  bodye, 
or  wolde  not  begge  his  breade  for  one  twelue  moneth  to  be  a 
kynge  afterwarde  duryng  his  life.  Stonde  boldly  agayne 
sickenes  and  fortune,  the  one  is  natural,  the  other  is  casualle. 
In  the  fyrste  is  necessitie,  whiche  wylle  thou  or  no,  thou  muste 
sufFre :  If  thou  doest  hit  wyllyugely,  thou  knoweste  the  price. 
If  thou  addest  to  angre,  thou  doubleste  thy  peyne.  In  the 
seconde  is  no  necessitie,  for  thou  moughteste  alway  refuse  hit, 
as  welle  whanne  it  was  prosperousg,  knowynge  it  to  be  vn- 
stable,  aid  burdaynous,  as  also  whanne  hit  is  aduerse  or  con- 
trarions,  consyderynge  that  hit  was  neuer  soo  moche  thyne 
owne,  that  thou  h?iddeste  anye  ryghtp  to  reteyne  hit:  sens  it 
wos  prdeyned  for  other  as  well  as  for  thee.  And  fortune, 
which  is  the  disposer  thereof,  neuer  made  bargayne  with  the, 
that  thou  shuldestestylle  kepe  hit:  and  if  she  dydde,  brynge 
fonbe  thy  recordes,  she  lackethe  not  wytnesses  innumerableto 

proue 


229 

proue  that  she  hathe  bene  euer  inconstant.  Defye  her  malyce ; 
for  whanne  she  hathe  donne  her  warste,  yet  shalte  thou  haue 
more  than  thou  broughteste  with  the.  And  that  whiche 
aboundeth  shall  comme  of  thyneindustrye,  and  not  of  hir  false 
'  liberalitie.  And  if  thou-  doest  boldlye  resyste  hir,  thou  shalfe 
haue  that  aduauncemente  and  rychesse  gyuen  the  of  God, 
wherin  she  shall  haue  no  powar  or  authorytie  whiche  shalbe 
suche  as  the  hundred  thousande  parte  thereof,  sliall  sourmount 
al  that,  euer  she  gaue  sens  she  was  fyrste  called  Fortune." 

J.  H. 


^  The  Doctrinal  of  Princes,  made  ly  the  nxille  oratour 
Isocraies,  &  translated  out  of  Greke  in  to  Englishe 
by  syr  Thomas  Eliot,  Knight.  [Col.]  Imprinted 
at  London,  in  Flete  strete,  in  the  house  of  Thomas 
Berthelet,     Cum  i^c.  20  leaves.  Oct, 

"  Sir  Thomas  Eliot,  Knight,  to  the  reader.  This  little 
booke  whiche  (in  mine  opinion)  is  to  be  compared  in  cousaile 
and  short  sentence  with  any  booke,  holy  scripture  excepted,  I 
Jiaue  translated  out  of  Greeke,  not  presumyng  to  contends 
with  theitn,  whiche  haue  doone  the  same  in  Latine  :  *  but  to 
thintent  onely  that  I  wolde  assaie,  if  our  Englissbe,  tunge 
mought  irpceiue  the  quicke  and  propre  sentences  pronounced 
•by  the  Greekes.  And  in  this  experience  I  haue  founde  (if  I 
be  not  muche  deceiued)  that  the  forme  of  speakyng,  vsed  of 
the  GreekeSj  called  in  Greafce,  and  also  in.  Latine,  Phrasis, 
muche  nere  approacheth  to  that  whiche  at  this  dale  we  vse, 
than  the  order  of  the  Latine  tunge;  I  meane  in  the  sentences, 
and  not  in  the  wordes :  whiche  I  doubte  not  shall  be  affirmed 
by  them,  who  sufficiently  instructed  in  all  the  saide  three 
tunges,  shall  with  a  good  iudgement  read  this  worke .....  If  I 
shall  perceiue  you  to  take  this  myne  enterprise  thankefully,  I 
shall  that  litle  porcioii  of  life,  whiche  remaineth  (God  sendyng 
me  quietnes^e  of  minde)  bestowe  in  preparing  for  you  suc!i 
bookes,  in  the  readyng  wherof,  ye  shall  finde  bothe  hone&t 
passe  tyme,  and  also  profitable  jcounsaile  and  lernyng.  Fare 
je  well." 

*  According  to  the  enumeration  in  Berkenhont's  Biog.  Lit. 
the, present  translation  was  supposed  .to  have  been  into  Latin. 

Q  3  Unfortunately 


23° 

Unfortunately  the  present  work  is  without  date,  and 
leaves  it  uncertain  which  of  his  works  the  translator  re- 
fers to  in  the  last  sentence.  After  "  the  oracion  of 
Isocrates  to  Nicocles  the  kynge,"  the  following  is  given 
as  an 

"  Addicion  to  fill  vp  vacant  pages.  Fvl  truely  writeth 
Salomon;  the  herte  of  the  kynge  is  in  the  hande  of  God,  and 
whiche  wai  so  euer  he  willeth  he  shal  incline  it:  but  the  very 
laude  of  a  good  kynge  is,  if  he  againe  incline  his  herte  to  God, 
the  kynge  of  ail  kynges,  alwaie  bendyng  to  his  will,  without 
whose  ^uourable  aide,  mans  indeuour  can  nothynge  dooe: 
and  so  frameth  all  his  actes,  as  knowlageyng  and  myndyng  that 
what  so  euer  he  dooeth,  he  dooeth  it  before  his  eies,  who  is 
no  lesse  iudge  ouer  kynges  then  ouer  common  people. 
Nothyng  is  truely  prosperous,  nothynge  can  be  called  welthy, 
tliat  the  authour  of  all  felicitee  wyll  not  vouchesafe  to  make 
fortunate.  Most  luckely  moste  happily  it  is  doone,  what  so 
euer  is  doone  accordynge  to  his  -wyll,  who  saieth ;  By  me 
kjmges  do  reigne  and  the  lawe  makers  decerne  iuste  thinges  : 
by  me  princes  rule,  and  mighty  men  iudge  iust  thynges.  This 
saide  the  eternall  wisedome,  whiche  is  the  sonne  of  God. 
What  prescribeth  Sapience  to  kynges  ?  Mercy  (saieth  she)  and 
trouthe  doe  kepe  the  kynge:  and  his  throne  is  made  stronge 
with  clemencie.  He  sheweth  mercie  in  succouryng  the  op- 
pressed: trouthe  in  iudgeyng  truely :  Clemencie  in  temperyng 
the  seueritee  of  the  lawes  with  lenitee.  The  speciall  duetie 
and  whervnto  kynges  were  wonte  to  bee  sworne  whan  thei 
beganne  their  reigne,  was  this,  to  helpe  widowes,  to  succour 
the  fatherlesse,  and  to  deliuer  and  defende  all  that  are  oppres- 
sed fro"  iniurie.  Trouthe  hath  two  companions.  Sapience  and 
Constance.  Sapience  geueth  light  vnto  the  eies,  wherby  is 
perceiued,  what  is  right,  and  what  not;  what  is  profitable  for 
the  weale  publyke,  and  what  is  contrarie  to  it.  Constancie 
ca^eth  that  the  mynde,  ouercorayng  all  couetouse  desires, 
neither  with  ire,  nor  with  loue,  nor  with  hatred,  is  moued 
frpm  honestie.  Clemencie  tempereth  with  lenitee  necessarie 
seueritee.  Clemencie  is  not  foorthwith  to  gee  in  hande  with 
warre,  whan  cause  of  warre  is  geueii,  but  to  leaue  no  reasonable 
meane  vnassaied,  to  see  whether  the  matter  male  bee  determined 
without  warre.  And  otherwhile  it  is  better  to  dissemble  the 
iniurie,  than  to  rcuenge  it  by  force  of  armes.  It  is  Clemencie, 
if  by  no  meanes  it  maie  be  eschewed,  so  to  make  warre,  that 
as  littell  iiumaine  bloudde  be  spilt  as  can  be,  and  that  the 
warre,  be  en  Jed  as  shortely  as  maie  be.     For  this  wisedome, 

that 


231 

tlrat  bfingetli  all,  good  thynges  with  it,  Salomon  praied  for, 
that,  she  shulde  alwaic  be  assistent  to  his  throne,  as  a  moste 
faithful!  and  trusty  counsailour.     Finis." 

J.H. 


TJ  The  defence  of  good  ivomen,  deuised  and  made  ly 
Sir  Thomas  Elyot,  knyght.  Anno  M.  D.  XL.V. 
[Col.]  Londini  in  cedihus  Thomce  Bertheleti  typis 
impress.     Cum  &fc.  &c.    Oct.  32  leavesi 

At  the  back  of  the  title  "  The  argurnent.  A  contencio^. 
betwene  two  gentill  men,  the  One  named  Caninius>  the  other 
Candidus.  Caninius,  like  a  curre  at  womens  condicions  is  al- 
-way  barkyng :  but  Candidus,  whiche  male  be  interpreted,  be- 
nigne  or  gentill,  iudgeth  euer  well,  and  reproueth  but  seldom.'' 
And  "  as  reason  is,  hath  the  preheminence,  at  the  last,  for  a 
perfect  conclusion  Queene  Zenobia,  which  liued  aboute  the 
yere  after  the  incarnacion  of  Christe  274,  the  noble  Aureliane 
being  Eraperour  of  Rome;  by  the  example  of  hir  life,  con- 
.firnieth  his  argumentes,"  &c.  , 

Our  author  makes  Candidus,  in  the  course  of  the  dia- 
logue, thus  censure  the  poets. 

"  The  authors  whpnrt  ye  so  muche  do  set  by,  for  the  more 
part  were  poetes,  which  sort  of  perso"  among  the  Latines  & 
Grekes  wer  neuer  had  but  in  smal  reputacion.  For  I  (;ulde 
neuer  rede  that  in  any  weale  publike  of  notable  tnemory,  poetes 
were  called  to  any  honorable  place,  office,  or  dignity.  Plato 
out  of|  the  publike  weale  which  he  had  deuised  wolde  haue  all 
poetes  vtterly  excluded.  Tulii,  who  next  vnto  Plato  excelleth 
all  other  in  vertue  and  eloquence,  Wolde  not  haue  in  his  public 
weale  any  poetes  admitted.  The  cause  why  thpy  were  sqo 
litell  estemed  was,  for  as  rauche  as  the  more  part  of  their  in- 
uencions  consisted  in  leasinges,  or  in  steryng  vp  of  wanton  ap- 
petites, or  in  pouryng  out  in  railynge  their  poison  of  malice. 
For  with  their  owne  goddes  and  goddesses  wefe  they  so  mald- 
perte,  that  with  their  aduoutris  they  filled  great  volumes. 
Jupitfer,  whom  thei  cal  kyrtg  of  goddes  and  of  men,  they 
bryng  hym  out  of  heauen  to  bis  harlottes,  transfourmed  som- 
time  into  a  bull,  an  other  tyme  lyke  a  ramme,  a  stinkyng  gote 
or  a. serpent,  ttis  queene  Juno  lyke  a  cowe.  MercUrius  like 
a  4  a  wulfe. 


a  wulfe.  Ne  they  lefte  heauen  vnpolluted,  fainynge  that  the 
gtJd  Mars  made  Vulcane  cockeolde,  committynge  ad!itoutry  with 
Venus  wife  to  Vulcanus,  But  Vulcane  was  a  wily  pye,  and 
said  nothynge,  but  being  a  smythe,  he  made  such  suttell 
nianakles,  that  er  the  two  louers  were  ware,  he  tyed  theim  so 
fast  to-gether,  that  they  mought  not  be  seuered  :  and  than 
called  he  the  hole  route  of  goddes  and  goddesses,  and  made 
them  to  se  Mars  and  Venus  where  they  lay  naked,  wherat 
thei  al  lewghe,  but  Mars  was  angry,  and  Venus  allinost 
ashamed.  Other  poetes  there  be  which  in  their  mooste  la- 
mentable and  wofull  ditties  so  doe  humble  them  selfes  to  their 
maistresses,  as  thei  wold  licke  the  dust  from  their  sli[)pers,  and 
as  soone  as  eyther  by  age,  or  with  hauntyng  of  brothelles,'  the 
flame  of  carnalitie  is  throughly  quenched,  or  elles  if  women 
do  constantly  refiise  their  vhhonest  desires,  airone  arme  thei 
their  ji6hne!s  and  toilge,  with  serpentine  malice,  obiectyng 
•against  al 'iPocfte"  most  beastly  condicions;  whertiy  they  more 
detect  their  propre  inconstancy,  then  womennes  vnfaithful'- 
nesse." 

J.H. 


T)    Pasqvils  Passe,   and  passeth  not.     Set  downe  in 
three  Pees. 

r  Passe 

His  J  Precession,  and 
L  Prognostication. 

London :  Printed  ly  V.  S.  for  lohn  Smithicke,  and 
art  to  be  solde  at  his  shop  within  Temple  Barre. 
1600.  qto.  23  leaves. 

Orje  of  the  rare  poetical  pieces  by  Nicholas  Breton, 
which  he  inscribes  to  his  "  very  louing  and  vndeserued 
good  friend  M.  Griffin  Pen,  [bidding]  vpqn  his  heart's 
true  worthinesse  shine  the  sunne  of  highest  happinesse." 
—-"To  the  reader,  Pasqiiill^ommends  him  to  all  that  loue 
him,  to  whom   he  giues  to  vnderstand,  that  after  his 

f)ains  taken  in  his  Mad-cappe,  and  his  Fooles-cappe, 
aying  them  both  aside,  thinking  to  take  alitle  rest,  gat 
him  his  Night-cappe,  vnder  whiehe,  in  steede  of  sleep, 
many  idle  humors  came  in  his  head,  which  troubling  his 

little 


^33 

little  staled  braine,  would  not  let  him  be  at  quiet,  till  he 
had  comnaitted  them  to  the  custodie  of  pen  and  incke 
and  paper." — Another  address  from  Pasquill  to  Mor- 
phorius. — These  poems  are  in  the  author's  usual  man- 
ner. Their  humour,  though  dealing  in  generals  nearly, 
died  with  their  locality.  Specimens,  however,  not  un- 
amusing,  may  be  taken  from  each  piece,  either  from 
rarity,  or  to  shew  tlie  poet's  manner.  In  the  Passe  he 
gives  instruction  by  inference. 

"  He  that  wil  passe  into  a  ladies  eies, 
And  ill  her  hands  wil  Ifealje  his  little  heart. 
And  yet  with  all  his  wit,  is  not  so  wise. 
As  to  discertie  the  sleight  of  Veuus  art. 
In  giirinf  of  the  foolfis-eap  by  desart ; 

Let  him  go  better  set  his  vvittes  to  schoole. 
Or  else  be  sure  to  passe  for  a  good  foole- 
He  that  will  passe  mto  the  Holy  land. 
Let  him  be  grounded  in  the  rules  of  grace. 
And  be  assurde  that  he  dofh  vnderstand. 
What  is  the  trCieth  that  falshoode  may  deface. 
Lest  whtm  that  wisedome  follie  doth  displace. 
And  leaffiiTigs  court  breakevp,  and  all  are  gofre. 
He  pdsse  fcut  for  a  sirflple  blind  Sir  Ihou. 

He  that  will  passe  into  a  clownes  conceit. 
Let  liim  take  heede  he  know  a  clouted  shooe. 
Lest  he  be  Cotisdnfed  with  a  Close  deceit, 
When  seely  fo'oles  know  not  ^s"hat  knaues  can  dot;. 
With  yea  "aiid  nay,  to  bring  an  ideot  to : 
But  if  he  kindly  know  Clim  of  tlie  Cloilgh, 
^      Then  let  him  paSse,  he  shall  doe  well  ehough. 

He  that  will  passe  into  an  Drcfinary, 
Let  him  take  -bessde  to  deale  with  cardes'aad  dice. 
Lest  whatsdeoer  mcwiy  in  he  carry. 
Ere  he  beware  he  loose  it  with  a  trice. 
And  all  too  late  repentance  Jearrie  the  price. 
To  know  how  he  that  pas-seth  in  ptifse-fall. 
And  goes  out  empty,  passeih  far  a  gull." 

This  poem  is  concluded  in  seventeen  stanzas,  biit  was 
probably  to.  have  been  extended  by  the  author  as  the 
fourth  leaf  of  sheet  B,  whereon  it  is  printed,  seems  left 
blank  for  that  .ptfrpbse.    The   "  Precession"  occupies 

two 


234 

two  sheets,  having  forty-two  stanzas.  It  pfays  a  deliye-* 
ranee  from  some  circumstances  too  trifling  to  enumerate 
as  difficulties. 

"  From  an  olde  kow  that  kicketh  downe  her  milke. 
And  a  yong  colt  that  will  his  rider  cast, 
from  a  thiefes  halter  though  it  be  of  silke. 
And  from  a  diall  that  doth  goe  too  fast. 
And  from  a  pardon  when  the  paine  is  past. 

And  from  confession  vnder  Tiborne  tree. 

The  blessed  Lord  of  heau'n  deliuer  me. 
From  too  long  hoping  after  dead  mens  shooes. 
And  from  betraying  of  an  honest  trust, 
From  lacke  of  care  either  to  gaine  or  loose. 
And  from  a  conscience  that  may  prouc  vniust. 
And  from  a  wicked  and  vnlawfuU  lust : 

From  all  such  courses  where  no  comforts  be. 

The  blessed  Lord  of  heau'n  deliver  me. 

From  a  stale  peece  of  flesh  that  is  twice  sodden. 
And  from  a  bloud  raw  rested  peece  of  beefe. 
And  from  a  crauen  henne  that  is  crow  trodden. 
And  from  a  bawd,  a  whore,  a  rogue,  a  thiefe. 
And  from  home  taking  an  heart's  inward  griefe. 

And  from  the  ill  wherein  no  good  can  be. 

The  blessed  Lord  of  heau'n  deliuer  me. 

From  blindness,  lamenesse,  deafnes,  cramps  and  stitches, 
And  from  the  gowt,  the  chollicke,  and  the  stone. 
And  from  inchanting  charmes  of  wicked  witches. 
From  cougbes,  and  rhewmes,  and  aches  in  the  bone. 
And  from  the  griefe  of  loue  to  line  alone ; 
And  from  all  agues  whatsoe're  they  be. 
The  blessed  Loid  of  heau'n  deliuer  me." 

The  third  piece  runs  through  forty-five  stanzas',  and 
prognosticates  dooms-day,  by  such  signs  as 

"■  When  that  a  cat  will  eate  no  milke. 
And  that  a  fox  tlie  goose  forsakes. 
And  courtiers  leaue  their  wearing  silke. 
And  snow  doth  leaue  to  fall  in  flakes, 
Aijd  one  man  marres  that  other  makes, 

Then  doth  my  table  say  that  yeere. 

The  day  of  Doome  will  sure  be  neere. 

When  fishes  leaue  to  play  with  baites. 
And  buzzards  leaue  to  beate  the  wind. 

And 


235 

And  knaues  will  leaue  with  cunning  sleights. 
For  to  deceiqe  a  simple  mind. 
When  that  the  world  is  in  his  kind, 
Be  sure  this  note  to  build  vpon, 
The  day  of  Doome  is  comming  on. 

When  morrice  dancers  leaue  their  bells, 
The  foole  his  bable  by  will  lay. 
And  oisters  breede  without  their  shells. 
And  that  the  mice  with  cattes  will  play. 
While  wise  men  make  fooles  holy  day : 
Then  tell  me  if  my  table  lie. 
That  sales  that  doomed  day  will  be  nie. 

When  that  the  kite  the  ciiicken  feares. 
The  wolfe  will  not  come  neere  the  lamb. 
The  frogs  will  be  as  big  as  beares. 
The  ewe  will  not  abide  the  ramme, 
A  calfe  wil  leaue  to  sucke  the  damme : 
Then  do  I  by  my  table  find. 
That  doomes  day  is  not  farre  behind." 


J.  H. 


([  A\Funerall  Poem:  consecrated  to  the  Memorie  of,, 
that  euer  honored  President  of  Soldyership,  Goodfies, 
and  Vertue;  Sr.  Arthure  Chichester;  Baron  of  Bel- 
fast ;  Lo :  high  Treasurer  of  this  Kingdome ;  one  of 
his  then  Maiesties  most  Honorable  Priuie  Counsell; 
and  of  the  Coiinsaile  of  Waire.  Written  hy  Christy 
Brooke,  gent. 

Hoc  Fonte  derivata  clades, 
in  Patriam  populumq.Jluxit. 

[M.S.  quarto,   1625.  *J 

Christopher  Brooke  was,  according  to  Wood,  born  in 
Yorkshire,     After  he  left  the  University,  (whether  Gx- 

*  Directions  for  the  Printer.  "  Let  this  Poem  be  printed  w'''  a 
margent  of  black  above,  and  beneath  ;  and  but  11  or  14.  lynes  on 
a  side  at  the  most;  the  distinctions  diiely  observed;  and  some 
Judicious  man  to  correct  the  Proofesby  the  Copie.  C.  E."  Fly 
Uaf. 

ford 


2g6 

ford  or  Cambridge,  seems  uncertain)  he  entered  of  Lin- 
coln's Inn,  where  he  became  the  chamber  fellow  of  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Donfie.  *  His  friendshif)  with  that  writer 
^appears  to  have  involved  him  in  some  difiScuky';  as  him- 
self and  brother  were  arbitrarily  imprisoned  along  with 
Donne,  in  consequence  of  his  secret  marriage  with  the 
daughter  of  Sir  George  Moor,  f  As  a  writer  he  became 
first  known  to  the  wits  by  an  Elegy  on  Prince  Henry, 
printed  1613.  And  Wood  also  mentions  Eclogues  dedi- 
cated to  his  friend  Will.  Brown,  1614,  f  before  whose 
Britanniafs  Pastorals,  he  has' a  short  poem;  and  another 
before  the  first  edition  of  Drayton's  Legend  of  Cromwell. 
He  had  also  a  considerable  hand  in  dishing  out  The  Od- 
combian  Banquet,  An.  i6ii."§  The  subject  of  the 
present  article  appears  to  have  been  hitherto  unknown. || 

"  The  Epistle  Dedicatorie.  To  the  Honorable  Gentleman, 
S"'.  Francis  Ansley,  Knight  Baronet.  Noble  Sir :  Not  to  ad 
more  weight  vnto  that  griefe  (w''^  I  know  lyes  too  heavy  at 
yo''  heart  already)  do  I  present  y".  this  poem;  but  to  giue  tes- 
timony of  my  humane  nature  in  the  sense  of  so  deare  a  losse; 
and  w"'  allj  to  grow  in  yo''.  good  opinion.  And  though  I  do 
not  thinck  but  the  strong  desert,  and  exemplare  vertue  of  this 
noble  man  be  sufficiently  establish't  in  the  love  of  a  multitude 
of  hearts;  yet  knowing  those  hearts,  as  they  are  (in  then- 
figure)  extended  and  open  vp  wards,  as  to  send  forth  their  good 
motions  and  desiers ;  so  are  tliey  lykewise  narrow,  and  poynted 
downwards,,  w*"  may  imply  their  descent  to  the  grave.  Since 
therefore  letters  are  more  permanent,  and  free  from  the  wrong 
of  tyme ;  I  thought  I  should  do  an  acceptable  office  to  yo'. 
self,  and  all  that  lov'd  hym,  to  record  his  vertues  in  this  nume- 
rous kynd,  the  better  to  preserve  his  memorie.  So,  hoping 
you  will  receiue  theise  lynes,  as  they  are  intended  to  the" 
honor  of  the  deceased,  and  my  loue  to  your  worthynesse  :  I 
rest  at  yo'.  service.    Christ.  Brooke." 

*  Ath.  Ox.  Vok  I.  Col.  554.. 
t  Chalmers's  Poets,  Vol.  V.  ,p.  1 16    Donne  addressed  a  poeri- 
cal  epistle  to  him,  commencing,  "  Thou  which  art  I."    lb.  i6z. 

J  Qu  ?  If  not  afterwards  printed  with  the  spurious  impression 
of  pieces  by  his  friend  Wither,  as  "  Other  Eglogues,  by  Master 
Brooke,  and  Master  Dauies.  1620."     Jnte  Vol.  I.  p.  183. 
§  Fasti  Ox.  Vol.  I.  Col.  220. 

II  By  the  title  saying  "  this  kingdom,"  it  should  appear  the 
elegy  was  composed  in  Ireland. 

Probably, 


Probably,  the  following  complimentary  lines  from  the 
pen  of  Wither,  are  now  first  made  public. 

"  To  his  ingenious  and  fw'^b  is  more  worthy)  his  truely 
honest  Frend,  Mr.  Christ.  Brooke. 

"  I  have  surveid  the  structure  thow  hast  here 
Composed  for  thrice  honor'd  Chichester; 
(  Whose  vertues  yeild'for  praise  such  copious  matter. 
That  (if  thow  wouldst)  thow  hast  not  meanes  to  flatter: 
And  I  commend  thy  judgment  that  doth  knowe 
True  worth  so  well,  and  how  to  blaze  it  so. 

Oh  I  I  could  wish  (would  Piede  permit) 
Thow  hadst  not  gotten  this  occasion  yet 
Of  shewing  vs  our  losse,  who  seldome  see 
How  rich  wee  wercj  vntill  wee  beggerd  be. 

But  since  his  death  invited  thee  to  frame 
This  monvment  to  memorize  bis  name. 
Erect  it,  where  in  publike  it  may  rise 
To  make  hym  knowne  vnto  posterities. 

For  when  a  costly  pile  wee  do  advance. 
Of  farr  fetch't  marble.  Touch  or  poUish't  Ranee, 
It  fills  but  one  small  Roome,  and  standeth  dumb. 
Even  till  a  heape  of  rubbish  it  become  : 
But  this  in  many  realmes  will  speake  at  once^ 
And  speaks  hym  plavner  farr  then  guilded  stones; 
Yga,  give  his  fame  a  longer  being,  than 
The  richest  fabricks  of  mechanicks  can. 

Besides  (that  thow  this  paynes  mayst  not  repent) 
It  shall  be  of  thy  love  a  monument: 
And  those  in  whome  his  virtues  living  be, 
Will  live  no  longer  then  they  favor  thee. 

Geor,  Wythek." 

Another  elegy,  written  by  Alexander  Spicer,  was 
printed  "on  the  nonce,"  and  probably,  from  precedence, 
occasioned  a  delay  and  final  suspension  in  the  intended 
publication   by  Brooke  *     Both   writers  have  selected 

*  Spicer's  is  set  forth  with  the  mournful  solemnity  of  broad 
black  borders;  It  is  entituled  :  Jn  Ekgie  on  the  m'vch  lamented 
death  of  ihj  Right  Honorable  Sir  Arthur  Chichester,  Knight,  Lo-  Baron 
of  Belfast,  Lo.  high  "treasurer  of  Ireland,  one  of  the  Lords  ef  his  Ma- 
iesties  most  Honorable  Priuie  Counsell,  and  of  the  Counsell  bfWarre. 
Honor  sequitur  fugientem.  By  Alex.  Spicer.  Printed  at  London  by 
M.  F.  for  Robert  Bird',  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop  in  Cheapeside,  at 
the  signe  of  the  Bible.  1625.  qto.  14  leaves.  Dedicated,  in  eight 
lines,  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

similar 


338 

similar  incidents,  and  commence  their  eulogies  at  nearly 
the  same  period  of  their  hero's  life  5  the  whole  of  which 
appears  occupied  in  martial  pursuits  or  political  appoint- 
ments. Chichester  was  educated  at  Oxford,  ^flis  naval 
and  martial  career,  is  thus  briefly  described  in"4  note  by 
Spicer.  "  He  was  captaine  of  the  ship  called  the  Vic- 
torie,  vnder  the  command  of  the  Lord  Sheffield,  em- 
ployed against  the  Spanish  Inuasion,  Anno  1587  &  88. 
Afterwards  he  was  Captaine  and  Commander,  in  the 
Portugall  voyage  of  aoo  foot,  in  the  Regiment  of  the 
General!  Sir  Fra.  Drake,  88  and  89  He  went  with  Sir 
Fra.  Drake  to  the  West  Indies,  where  he  was  Captain  of 
a  Companie  of  foot,  and  Lieutenant  Colonell  of  a  Regi- 
ment. And  in  Porterico  he  set  fire  of  the  Admirall'of 
the  Spariish  Frigats,  95  &  96.  After  their  return  from 
that  voyage  he  was  employed  in  France,  being  Captam- 
and  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  a  regiment  wjth  Sir  Th.  Bas- 
keruille,  96.  After  his  returne  out  of  France,  be  was 
employed  into  Ireland  with  the  Earle  of  Essex."  He 
■was  ennobled  by  virtue  as  well  as  valour :   thus  Brooke; 

"  When  Nature  first  did' set  this  raa,a  on  foote. 
And  virtue  in  his  prime  of  yeares  tooke  rootej 
All  culture  was  apply'd ;  manur'd  for  seedes 
Of  grace,  religion,  learning;  and  no  weedes 
That  might  annoy  his  groalh,  but  in  the  bud 
Were  choak't  ere  they  could  settle ;  that  his  blood 
(W"'.  those  effects  of  sense)  receiv'd  contrail. 
And  did  their  homage  to  their  soueraigne  saule."  * 

His  knighthood  was  conferred  on  him  bv  Henry  the 
IV.  of  France,  a  circumstance  descanted  on  by  both 
poets :  the  preludia  of  Brooke  define  vertue  as  assumino- 
her  proper  character  in  the  field  of  battle. 

"  Who  would  see  vertne  in  her  proper  sphere. 
In  warre  must  seeke  her,  and  behold  her  there : 

*  Spicer  declares,    , 

"  — No  worth  finds  extent 
Beyond  the  bounds  of  his,  whom  I  lament. 
Graue,  braue,  sure,  pure,  and  like  a  heatienly  star. 
In  peace,  war,  speech,  and  life,  was  Chichester." 

Her 


Z39 

Her  hands  of  iron,  and  her  countnance  tan'd; 

I^ow  scalirg  of  a  wall,  then  doth  shee  stand 

At  th'  entrie  of  a  breach ;  where  there  is  anger, 

Most  frownes  of  fortune,  most  fcire,  and  most*danger. 

Then  lookes  shee  big  lyke  Phoebus  in  descent. 

And  guylds  w"*  brightnes  her  owne  element ; 

Hardnes  shee  loves  ;  soft  spirits  shee  disdaynes; 

Andholds  that  conqijest  noblpst,  got  w'"".  paynes, 

Theise  were  his  rules,  '  Things  safest  are  lest  gratefull, 

•And  to  true  souldyers,  loue  and  ease  are  hatefull.' 

Fights  were  the  feasts  of  noble  Chi6|iester, 

Who  (but  on  th'  enemyes  backs)  never  knew  feare; 

He  fronted  danger  in  the  fearefuUst  storme. 

And  outfac't  death  in  his  most  vglie  forme; 

The  showr.es  of  bullets,  and  the  deawes  of  blood 

Gave  verdure  to  his  spirit,  mad  honors  bud 

Vpon  bis  crest;  w'^''.  ripened  and  were  growne 

A  wreathe  Olimpiak  and  his  valours  crowne. 

Nor  let  this  seerae  hiperbole  in  me. 
To  say,  blood  deaw'd  this  flowre  of  chivalriej 
Or  that  his  blooming  honors  grew  not  right 
In  slormes  of  buUetts,  and  in  heate  of  fight. 
For  France  (whose  ciuill  or  vncivill  armes, 
Drewhym,  in  suite  of  fame,  to  those  alarms) 
Cap  wiujesse  (in  Amienses  siege)  how  he 
Did  show  such  deedes  of  active  valiancie; 
That  lyke  to  one  of  Rpomes  greate  trium-viri, 
W'h  substance  ayrie  ;  and  w"".  spirit  fyrie ; 
He  jseem'd  to  leape  at  fame,  jand  take  his  rise, 
As  if  shee  were  an  obiect  in  bis  eyes.  * 

Hence  Honors  flowre,  sprung  out  of  valours  bud; 
Heere  did  he  wyn  Jiis  gplden  spprrs  in  blood: 

•  Thus  in  Spicer's  lines ! 

"  — theciuiil  warres  of  France 
Drew  forth  our  English  Scipio  to  aduance 
His  colours  there,  which  he  displaid,  and  wonne 
Honourable  knighthood  ;  when  the  fight  was  done 
Henrie  the  4.  of  France,,  in  graceful!' manner, 
Vpon  desert  confer'd  this  warlike  honour : 
And  fame  imprints  this  character  on  his  shield. 
Knighted  by  Bnrbon,  in  the  open  field. 

•  Desert  neglected,  droopes.;  encourag'd.beares 
'  Its  motions  well,  as  the  well  ordered  spheares. 

•  Our  minds  proue  then,  bestactiue,  when  we  know 
'  Our  plantsvare  set  where  they  are  like  to  grow." 

And 


34© 

And  as  he  bled,  the  khig  of  France  in  field. 

Gave  hym  his  Knighthood ;  w'""  doth  give  his  shield 

A  marke  of  more  renowne,  and  honor'd  note, 

Then  blood  from  byrth ;  or  gentries  fairest  coate. 

Nor  could  his  crop  of  glories  reap't  infield. 

His  couetous  mynd  her  satisfaction  yeildj 

But  his  plough-share  (his  sword's  well  temperd  Steele,) 

Now' doth  he  change,  to  plowe  the  seas  w">.  keelej 

Where  prowde  Iberian  hearts  must  seede  the  furrowes; 

Where  Trylons  draw,  and  Neptune  speeds  theharrowes: 

Where  Honors  husbandmen  (lyke  those  of  Greece) 

Travaile  and  sweate,  to  gayne  the  golden  Fleece. 

For  Jason,  Drake,  who  was  our  ages  wonder, 
Joue's  substitute,  that  rul'd  the  earthly  thunder: 
Castor  and  Pollux,  Troyns  of  joviall  *  stx_Ie, 
Were  payr'd  in  Chichester,  and  Baskervile. 

Theise  were  the  Argonautse  of  our  tymes. 
Who  shifted  ayres,  zones,  tropicks,  contries,  clymes. 
In  quest  of  fatlie ;  and  w""  vnwearied  payne 
Brought  home  the  fleece,  and  left  the  homes  w*''.  Spayne. 

Nor  in  the  vast  circumference,  or  center. 
Was  there  a  barre,  or  strayte,  so  hard  to  enter. 
But  noble  Chichester  (wyng'd  w'*"  desier, 
His  spirit  steeled  w*.  Cyclopian  fyre) 
Would  force  a  passage,  and  bring  thorough  agaync 
Glory,  the'guerdon  of  a  souldyers  payne. 

[The  worthies  Knights  that  now  and  then  are  made. 
Some  fooles,  some  clownes,  some  yeomen,  some  of  trade: 
That  when  wee  speake  of  them  (as  'twere  in  scofie) 
It, may  be  ask't  what  trade  the  knight  is  of: 
Theise  parcell  guilt  ones,  counterfetts  that  fly. 
And  dare  not  stand  the  test  of  gentrie. 
Our  heroe  seorn'dj  compar'd  w"\  hym  no  better 
Than  empty  cyphers,  or  a  flourrish't  letter.} 
Tytles  are  cyphers,  honor  but  a  blast, 
That  want  existent  parts  to  stand  and  last."  f 

It 

•  Auncient,  erased. 

t  Spicer's  elegy  contains  more  narrative  than  the  other,  and  the 
author  appears  to  have  been  an  attendant  on  Lord  Belfast,  at  the 
tinrie  of  his  death.  From  Elizabeth  our  hero  obtained  but  a  scanty 
portion  of  favours,  as 

/  he  thought 

Had  she  done  more,  s'  had  done  but  what  she  ought. 

This  did  not  prevent  him  embarking  for  Ireland  on  the 'rebel- 
lion bursting  out  in  the  Tyrone.    To  his  military  atchievements 

was 


241 

If  will  be  unnecessary  to  give  further  specimens  df 
Brooke's  perfotinance.  In  this  extended  extract  the  lines 
in  brackets  have  been  erased  by  the  licenser  of  the  press, 
and  are  referred  to  in  the  following  letter  from  our  author 
to  that  person,  which  is  written  on  the  last  I6af  of  the 
tract. 

"  To  the  gentleman  that  shall  licence  this  poem  for 
the  presse. 
"  Sir, 
"  Though  it  be  a  knowne  truth,  that  y".  shall  fjnA.  here 
writ,  concermng  knights  of  tbiese  tymes  (as  my  matter  subiect 

was  ackled  experienc'e  and  crrcurrtspeetfon,  and  his  voice  helped 
to  allay  the  misgmded  fory  of  the  civil  war.  In  1604  he  first 
became  Lord  Deputy;  again  in  l6I4^  the  year  "  the  haVp  was 
first  raarshall'd  with  the  arms  of  Great  Britain."  Notwithstand- 
ing his  equity,  virtue,  piety,  protection  of  learning,  arts,  and 
arms: 

"  iust  such  another. 
As  Pembroke's  vncle,  or  as  Leicester's  brother;" 
some  informers  preferred  their  complaints  against  him  in  councell . 

"  But  royal  Salomon  did  obserue  the  cause,' 
Artd  found  'twaS  not  his  Deputy,  but  his  lawes 
Were  call'd  m  ciofestion :  therefore  daign'd  to  giuft 
Words,  which  might  make  a  dying  man  to  Hue. 
fhii  man  is  cleere,  ifpon  exammattim ; 
Ifinde  tbcft  aWs  an  •vtiiust  accusation." 
He  possessed  the  full  confidence  of  his-  Sox'er«igtl  j  i»  ifiifi  was 
made  Lord  High  Treasurer  of  Ireland,  and  in  six  years  after  he 
went  on  a  diplomatic  commission  to  the  Emfjeror  of  Germany. 
Ris'deatb  wa»  unexpected,  if  not  sudden.     Our  poet  conEludes 

"  — ^fhat's  a  stately  impi?  of  fame,  by  which 
More  honour  is,  then  is  by  being  rich  : 
Lord,  what  is  man  ?  when  such  a  man  as  he. 
Whose' parts  excelled  in  the  highst  degree. 
Dies  by  a  plurisLe,  a  corrupted  tumour, 
proceeding  from  a  bad  vnhealthfull  humour; 
How  ought  we  then,  who  are  but  atoms  small. 
And  in  respect  of  hin,  are  not  at  all, 
To  know  our  bodies  but  an  house.of  eirthy 
And  thinke  of  God  before  the  soule  goes  forth  ? 
His  la^t  to  me  was  this  ;  mitch  thankes.  Good  mglit: 
May  my  best  seruice  study  to  requite 
His  noble  complement :  tor  it  I  returne. 
Millions  of  teares  on  his  bewailed  wnej 
And  sith  the  bed  he  sleepes  on,  is  his  biere. 
He  bid  Good  night,  and  draw  the  curtaines  here." 

VOL.  II,  «  scope 


343 

gave  scope:). yet  if  you  shall  take  exception  or  thinke  any  of- 
fence thereih,  I  answer,  that  it  may  stand  if  y"  please,  for 
theise  grounds  or  reasons.  First, ,  it  cannot  be  vnknowne  to 
y"  and  others',  that  things  much  more  satyricall  in  England 
have  passed  both  the  publike  stage,  and  the  presse,  and  never 
question'd  by  authority :  next,  I  presume  there  are  feaw  in  this 
kingdome,  that  will  fynd  then^selves  touched  or  taxed.  If 
this  satisfy  not,  then  where  itbegyns  thus  :  . 

These.  *  worthies  knights  that  now  and  then,  &c. 

these  first  4  lynesf  may  be  razed  and  left  out ;  beginning  1st. 
lyne  thus  : 

Some  parcell  guilt  knights ;  counterfeits  that,  &c. 

and  so  forward,  as  it  succeedes  ;  being  voyd  of  all  offence  or 
scruple,  because  it  may  conccrne  other  kingdomes  as  well  as 
ours.  This  (when  y".  have  pervsed,  and  given  yof  passe  to  the 
booke)  y".  may  tyther  take  out,  or  dash  w'".  yo^  pen,  J  lest 
the  printer  should  be  so  grosse  to  print  it  w"*'  the  rest.    C.  B." 

J.  H. 


tI  Thatfayth  the  mother  of  all  good  workes  iustifieth 
vs,  before  we  cd  bringe  forth  anye  good  worke :  as 
the  husbonde  maryeth  his  wife  before  he  cd  have  any 
lawefull  chylderne  by  her.  Forlhemore  as  the  hus- 
bonde mar  leth  not  ^  his  wife,  yt.  she  shulde  coiitynue 
vnf rule  foil  as  before,  ®  as  ike  was  in  y^.  state  of 
virginitie  ('wherein  it  was  impossible  for  hyr  to  bere 
frutej  but  cotrary  wise  to  make  hir  fiutefull:  even 
sofayth  iustifieth  vs  not,  that  is  to  saye,  maryeth  vs 
not  to  God,  yt  we  shuld  continue  vnjrutefoll  as  be- 
fore, but  that  he  shulde  put  theseade  of  his  holy  sprite 
in  vs  Cas  saints  lohn  in  his  first  pistle  calleth  itj  and 
to  make  vs  frutefull.  For  sayth  Faule  Ephes.  ij. 
By  grace  are  ye  made  safe  thorowefayth,  andyt  nof 
of  yourselves:  for  it  is  the  gift  of  God  dd  cometh  not 
of  the  workes,  lest  any  man  shulde  bost  hym  selfe. 

Sic.  f  Eight  were  erased. 

X  The  letter  is  struck  through  as  desired,  and  the  manuscript 
may  be  considered  as  ready  for  the  printer. 

For 


243 

Fot  we  are  his  workemanshipp  created  in  Christe  Jesu 
vnto:  good  workes,  which  God  hath  ordeyned  y'.  we 
shiilde  ivalke  in  them,  [Col.]  Printed  at  Malbo' 
,  rotve  in  the  londe  off  hesse  Itf  Hans  luft  the.  viij  day 
of  May.  Anno  M.  D,  XXXFIIJ,    Oct. 

:  This  was  the  second  edition  *  of  the  parable  of  The 
Wicked  Mammon,  by  Tyndal,  and  was  printed  without 
the  usual  title  page.-  As  a  theological  work  it  would  not 
have  required  nbtice,  but  the  preface  contains  a  relation 
too  valuable  to  omit  respecting  William  Roy,  author  of 
the  well  known  satire  upon  Cardinal  Wolsey.  -f 

"  William  Tyndsle,  otherwise  called  bychins  to  the  reader. 
Grace  and  peace  with  all  maner  spirituall  fealinge  and  livinge 
worthy  of  the  kyndnes  of  Christ,  be  with  the  reader  and  with 
all  that  thurst  the  will  of  God  Ame'.  The  caue  why  I  sett 
iliy  name  before  this  litle  treatvse  a"d  have  not  rather  done  it 
in  the  New  Testament  is  that  then  I  folowed  the  cowiisfcU  of 
Christ  which  exhorteih  men  Mattb.  vj.  to  doo  theyr  good 
deades  secretly  a"d  to  be  conte''t  with  the  co'science  of  well 
doynge,  and  that  God  seeth  vs,  and  paciently  to  abyde  the 
rewarde  of  the  last  daye  which  Christ  liath  purchased  for  vs 
a'd  now  wold  fayne  have  done  lykewyse,  but  am  compelled 
otherwise  to  doo. 

"  While  I  abode  a  faythfuU  co~panyon  which  now  hath 
take"  a  noiher  vyage  upo~  him,  to  prpach  Christ  where  (I  sup- 
pose) he  was  never  yet  preached  (God  which  putt  in  his  herte 
thither  to  goo  sende  his  spriie  with  him,  co'forte  him  aiid 
bringe  his  purpose  to  good  effecte)  one  Willia"  Roye  a  man 
somewhat  craftye  when  hecometh  vnto  new  accoyntance  and 
before  he  be  tborow  knowen  and  namt-ly  whe"  all  is  spe~ti 
came  vnto  me  a~d  offered  hi*,  helpe.  As  longe  as  be  h&d  no 
tnoney,  somewhat  [  could  rule  hi  ,  hut  as  sone  as  he  had  goten 
him  money,  he  became  lyke  him  sdfe  agayne.  Neverlhelesse 
I  suffered  all  thinges  till  y'.  was  e  dec!  which  1  coulde  not  doo 
alone  without  one  both  to  write  &  to  helpe  me  to  co"pare  y«. 

*  For  other^,  see  Herbert,  354,  367,  617,   7^7,  1537. 
t  Vide  Cens.  Lit.  Vol.  II.  p.  tiS-.  IV.  p.  ;8i.    Bib.  Poetica, 
p.  318 — An  article  upon  part  of  the  passacenr  w  absfiacteil  's  in- 
serted  in   the  Anecdotes  of  Liter nture.   Vol.  III.   p.  61,  and   the 
prefatory  account  ends  with  "Query,   who  was  ttiis  William 

koyr' 

R  2  testes 


r. 


■244 

textes  to  gether.    Whe   that  was  ended  I  toke  my  levead 
bode  bim  farewell  for  oure  two  lyves>  ad  as  me   saye  a  daye 
lo^'ger.     After  we  ware  departed  be  went,  and  gate  hym  new 
fre'des  which  thhige  to  doo  he  passeth  all  tha't  ever  I  yet  knewe. 
And  there  when  he  had  stored  bim  of  money  he  gote  him  to 
Argentine  wherfe  he  professeth  wonderfi-.U  faculties  aiid  maketh 
host  of  no  small  thinges.     A  yere  after  that  and  now  xij. 
monethes  before  the  printinge  of  thisworke,  came  one  Jero  a 
Irother of  Grenewich also,  thorow  wormes  to  Argetioe,  saienge 
that  he  entended  to  be  Christes  disciple  a  notber  while  a"d  to 
kepe  (as  nye  as  God  wolde  geve  him  grace)  the  profession  of 
his  baptim,  and  to  gett  his  lyvinge  with  his  handes,  and  tolive 
no  lenger  ydely  and  of  the  swele  a~d  laboure  of  those  captives 
which  they  had  taught  not  to  beleve  in  Christ :    but  in  cntt 
showes  and  russet  cpetes.     Which  Jerom  wyth  all  diligence  I 
warned  of  Royes  boldnesse  a"d  exhorted  him  to  bewarre  of 
him  and  to  walke  quyetly  and  with  all  pacience  and  longe  sof- 
feringe  accordinge  as  we  have  Christ  &  his  apostles  for  an  esam- 
ple,  which  thinge  be  also  piomised  me.     Neverthelesse  when 
lie  was  comen  to  Argentine  William  Roye  ( whose  to'ge  is  able 
not  only  to  make  fofes  sterke  madde,  but  also  to  disceave  the 
wisest  that  is  at  the  fyrst  sight  a~d  accoyntaunce)  gate  him  to  him 
and  sett  him  a  werke  to  make  rimes,  w|iile  be  hims^lfe  trans-, 
lated  a  dialoge  out  of  Laten  in  to  Engliscb,  in  whose  projoge 
he  promySeth:  moare  a  great  deall  than  I  fere  me  he  will  evet 
paye.     Paul  saith  the  secd"de  pystell  to  Tbimothe  the  seconde 
chapitter,  the  servant  of  the  lord   must  not  stryve,  but  be 
peaceable  vnto  all  men  and  ready  to  teach,  &  one  that  can  suf- 
fer the'  evel  with  mekenesse  and  that  can  enforme  them  that 
resiste.     Iff  God  at  any  time  wjU  geve  them  repentaunce  for 
to  know  the  throuth.     It  becometh  aot  then  the  lordes  ser- 
vante  to  vse  raylinge  rymes,  hnt  Gods  wordes  which  is  the 
right  wepon  to  slaye  sinne,  vice,  and  all  iniquite.     The  scrip- 
ture of  God  is  good  to  teach  and  to  improve  ijTbim.  iij  and  ij. 
Thes.  ij.   Paul  speakinge  of  Antichriste  saieth,  whom  the  lorde 
shall  destroye  with  the  sprite  or  breth  of  his  mouth,  that  is, 
with  the  worde  of  God.     And.  ij.  Corinlhia.ns.  x.  Tjhe  wepons 
of  oure  warre  are  not  carnall  thiages  (sayth  he)  but  mightye 
in  God  to  cast  downe  stronge  holdes  and  so  forth,  that  is,  to 
destroyei  the  byldinges  of  false  doctrine.     The  word  of  God  is 
y*.  dale  wher  of  Paul  speaketh  j.  Corint.  iij.  which  shall  declare 
all  thinge,  a"d  that  fyre  which  shall  trye  every  mans  werke 
and  consume  false  doctrine,:    with  that  swerde  ought  me"* 
sharply  to  fygbt,  and  not  to  rayle  with  folishfr  rymes." — 

J.H. 


H5 


^  A  discoursive  Prolleme  concerning  Prophesies,  *  how 
far  they  are  to.  be  valued,  or  credited,  according  to 
the  surest  rules,  &  directions  in  divinitie,  philosQ- 
phie,  astrologie,  c^  other  learning :  devised  especially 
in  abatement  of  the  terrible  threatenings  &  menaces, 
peremptorily  denounced  against  the  kingdoms,  M 
states  of  the  world,  this  present  famous  yeare  1588,- 
supposed  the  great,  woonderfull  ^faiallyeere  of  our 
age.  By  J.  H.  Pkysilion.  Printed  at  London  by 
John  Jackson  for  Richard  Watkins.  1588.  4to.  pp. 
133- 

It  may  excite  some  surprise  that  the  author  of  this 
treatise  was  the  very  same  John  Harvey,  who  a  few  years 
before  had  published  an  Astrologicall  addition  or  sup- 
plement, "  treating  of  terrible  accidents  &  feareful 
events  threatned  by  this^  grand  copulation  of  Satume," 
&c.  which  he  had  professed  himself  persuaded  should 
•'  forcibly  begin  to  take  place  even  in  this  present  year 

The  ill  success  of  his  predictions  would  however  ap- 
pear to  have  improved  his  judgment,  though  it  might 
stagger  the  credit  of  his  astrology  ;  for  the  present  tract 
is  nothing  less  than  a  "  ryghtlerned  8e  scoller-like"  dis- 
course '■  of,  &  against,  all  supposed  oracles,  pretended 
prophesies,  counterfet  predictions,  fabulous  traditions, 
forged  devises,  superstitious  tales,  vaine  rumors,  idle  sur- 
mises, &  all  such  erronious  or  frivolous  testimonies 
whatsoever,  either  fraudulently  8c  imposturally,  or  at 
least  conceitedly  &;  fantastically  given  out  to  the  world, 
within  the  terme  or  compasse  of  this  last  age."  But  he 
was  not,  it  seems,  quite  insensible  of  the  danger  of  having 

*  The  copy  of  the  book  now  before  me,  which  was  Herbert's, 
has  the  following  note,  in  his  hand-writing,  opposite  the  two  first 
lines  of  thetiflei  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  typographer.  "  This.is 
the  first  instance  where  the  word  begun  in  one  line  has  been 
printed  with  the  same  type  in  the  succeeding  line,  which  ispirinted 
in  a  different  type." 

t  Vide  the  present  Folume,  p. +3. 

K  3  his 


246 

his  anti-pro(>hetic  weapon  turned  against  himself;  as, 
from  thegei,..ral  condemnation  of  all  the  abovenu'iitioned, 
he  hks  mercifully  inserted  a  saving  clause,  which  ex- 
cludes '•  onely  such  testimonies  &c  judgements,  as  are 
learnedly  &c  skilfully  grounded  upon  lawtull  art,"  &c. 

Such  IS  the  epitome  of  the  first  portion  of  this  work  ; 
the  second  "  specially  arguelh  k.  examineth  the  proba- 
biiitie  of  the  speciall  prophesie,  particularly  devised*  & 
hotorioufly  published  of  the  present  famous  yeere  1588; 
with  sufficient  declaration  unto  the  world  that  the  same 
supposed  propheiie  importeth  not  any  such  rnatter, 
either  of  necessity  or  coniingent  truth  as  should  in  any 
artificiall  cousidtration,  or  other  reasonable  respect,  de- 
serve any  favourable  iniertainment,  or  credence  with  the 
Jeained,,wiso,  or  godlie:  either  according  to  the  grounds 
&  rules  of  humanitie  or  divinitie.' 

Towards  tne  conclusion  of  the  work,  notwithstanding, 
Harvey  drops  the  sturdy  air  uf  incredulity,  and  again  re- 
sumes the  gait  of  the  astrologer. 

"  Neither  witballcan  I  denio,  but  must  in  regard  of  cer- 
taine  naturall  &  aititiciiill  dii.'tiin=;,  &  circumstances  of 
spe-ciall  note,  affirm. itivi-ly  gran',  that  there  want  not  some 
probable  likf-lihbod'.  indeed,  &  somt  apparent  signifii  ations'or 
preparaiiies  uf  a  tragedy  insuing  in  the  world,  &  that  also  even 
such  a  one  &  so  notably  a  tragedie,  for  certaine  furious,  & 

.bu-.ie  parts,  as  bath  "ot  often  beene  plaied  upon  tbi''  moriall 
stage  &  fraile  theater:  )'el  for  mine  o*ne  simple  opinion,  I 
am  nndoU|btcdly  resolved  &  fully  persuaded,  according  to  good 
warrants  of  learning,  that  this  88  shall  ai  the  uttermost  proove 
but  the  prologue  thereof,  howsoever  in  some  other  yeere,  not 
far  hence,  there  may  peradventur'-  (by  phisioll  &  mathfmati- 

'  cal  conjectures,  rightly  drawen  from  the  due  observation  of 
certaine  fearefuU  eclipses  &  such  like,"  &c.  {Verbum  sat"] 

I  cannot  conclude  my  account  of  Ha rvev's  discourse, 
without  transcribing  the  most  successful  exertion  ot  pro- 
phetic talent  which  I  have  discovered  in  it.  For  who  can 
read  the  following  passage  without  imagining  that  the 
writer  had  some  foretfiste  of  the  bibliographical  produc- 
tions of  the  present  day,  though  they  tnay  by  no  means 
accord  with  his  opinion  of  the  lightness  of  labour  be- 
stovi'cd  upon  them. 

"  Is  any  devise  easier  (says  he,)   or  ai\y  practise  readier, 

than 


247 

than— -to  fbjstift-a  new-found  old  said  sawe,  or  to.  set  counter 
nance  upon  some  stale  poeticall  fragpnentj  or  other  antique 
record,  or  to  play  upon  the  advantage  of  some  old  memoran- 
dum, without  rime  or  reason;  or,  to  gloze,  &  juggle  with 
knacks  of  the  maker,  where  they-  may  passe  and  repasse  for" 
currant  paijuent ;  or  finally  to  revive  some  forlome  Merlin, 
or  Pierce  Plowman,  or  Nostradame,  or  the  like." 

J.  J.  P. 


Tl  Wittes  Pilgrimage,  fly  Poeticall  EssaiesJ  Through 
a  VVbrld  of  amorous  So7inets,  Soule  passions,  and 
other  Passages,  Diuine,  Philosophicall,  Morall, 
Poeticall,  arid  Politicall.  By  lohn  Davies.  lucunda 
vieissitudo  rerum.  At  London,  Printed  for  lohn 
Browne,  and  are  to  he  sold  at  his  shop  in  Saint  Dun- 
stones  Churchyard  in  Fleetstreete.  n.  d.  qto.  Sig.  X 
in  fours. 

John  Davies  usually  distinguished  himself  from  others 
then  living,  of  the  same  name,"  by  adding  to  his  own 
that  of  the  city  "  of  Hereford,"  where  he  was  born. 
This    addition   has   not   entirely   prevented  confusion.'' 

Very 
a  He  anagrammatised  his  name  in  His  od  'vaine. 

^  The  columns  of  Wood  register  four.  Anotherappears  wanting 
to  settle  the  little  dispute  recorded  in  the  Bibliogr.  Poetica,  p.  i8i. 
"  Wish  and  have,",  is  an  old  term,  and,  a  new  John  Davies  is 
forthwith  supplied,"  whose  existence  proves  the  critical  accuracy 
of  Mr.  Park,  which  his  friend  Ritson  seemed  inclined  in  the  above 
instance  to  doubt ;  though  on  another  disputed  point,  relating  to  , 
A  hundred  good  points  of  Husbandry,  he  thus  expressed  himself; — 
"  You  must  be  right  about  Tu'sser,  as  you  are  in  every  thing.  I 
was  misled  by  Herbert,  and  he  by  Warton."  There  cannot  be 
a  question  in  assigning  '•  O  Vtinam"  to  the  author  oi  Sir  Martin 
Mar-People,  his  Colter  of  Esses.  Workmanly  wrought  by  fHaister 
Simon  Sooth -saier,  Colds mith  of  London.  And  offered  to  sale -vpon  great 
necessity,  by  lohn  Dauies  [a  man's  head  having  the  forehead  marked 
with  planetary  signs.]  Imprinted  at  London,  by  Richard  Ibones, 
1590,  4to.  A  4.     A  short  extract  will  be  sufficient. 

f.<  Such  doting  on  our  daiotie  dames,  such  paines  to'  shew  them 

pleasure. 
Such  mone  we  rnake,  if  once  they  raourne  ;  if  glad,  glad  out  of 

measure, 

R'4.  Such 


548 

Very  few  partiailars  of  his  life  have  descended-  to  usj 
those  usually  referred  to,  are  registered  by  W()od:  but 
that  account  seems  impeachable  from  the  following: iiote, 
in  the  hand- writmg  of  Dr.  Farmer.  "  Davies,  a  writingr 
master,  at  xford  retainer  to  Magdalen  College  ■=  See 
Wood'',  mistakes  :  I.  444— died  about  ir.18."  The  list 
of  our  author's  pii'ces,  there  given,  is  manifestly  incor- 
rect. In  the  subject  of  this  and  the  two  following 
articles  I  find  his  Muse  addressing  his  relations'*  and 

friends  _ 

ISuch  feeding  of  their  humors  vsine,  sueb  fighting  for  their  fauour. 
Such  i^rge  expences  for  their  loue,  such  dread  of  their  dis  'auour: 
Such  is  the  care,  the  cursed  care  of  such  as  Christians  seeme. 
Such  seeming  Christians  with  such  cares,  their  Christ  dop  not  es- 

teerne. 
Such  brazen  faced  boldnesse  now's  in  beautie's  daintie  die. 
Such  wantop  lookes  inticing  lust,  from  her  Usciuious  eie. 
Such  tricks,  sui  h  tojes,  siicb  sportes,  such  ioye?  the  God  of  heaue" 

offends. 
Such  vild  licencious  lusts  of  ours,  our  soules  to  Sathan  sends." 

«  Wood  says  he  was  "  sent  to  this  University,  but  to  vphat 
liouse  of  learning  therein,  I  know  not:"  in  the  Scourge  of  Follf 
are  lines  ipscri^ed  "  to  my  most  deerp  and  best  beloued  Patro* 
nesse,  Magdalen  Coiledge  in  Oxford."     They  conclude 

"  I  Ij^ue  no  guifts  your  grace  to  ampUfie, 

But  must,  with  myne  aduice  the  same  supply: 
Take  heed  how  you  disioyne,  or  fall  at  strife  j 
For  I  obserue  all  fortutfes  in  this  life  ; 
^nd  of  them  all  which  •  I  baue  seene  or  prou'd. 
Yours,  onely  yours,  deserues  to  be  belou'd." 

*  To  my  brother  Mr.  lames  Dauies,  Master  in  the  arte  oflfritingf 
in  Oxford- 
"  lames  now  thou  liu'st,  where  I  with  pleasure  liii'd ; 
Yet  thriue  thou  there  no  worse  then  there  I  thriu'd. 
And  thou  wilt  Oxford  finde  a  louing  nurse 
To  fee^e-thy  ma»*'e  with  meat;  with  coyne  thy  purse ; 
And  when  thou  shaltgiow  twychilde,  she  will  bee 
Careful!  and  kinde,  religiously,  to  thee  : 
Then,  whil?  thy  strength  (Continues  serue  hpr  so 
That  by  thy  seruice,  she  may  greater  grow 
|n  fame  and  grace :   so,  shall  «he,  as  sbf.  sli^ouldt 
Make  hjip,  that  makes  h«r  prais'd  more  majjifeld." 

fa  my  brother  Mr.  Richard  Bauies,  Master  kketuiie  m  tke  same 
faculty  of  H' riting,     , 
"  Conforme  thine  head,  and  heart,  vnto  thine  band, 
Then  staidly  they  thine  aQtions  will  command. 

Thy 


34^ 

friendtjj'  trifling  with  his  wife;''  more  nonsensical  with 

I 
Thy  hand  I  taught,  and  partly  stor'de  thy  head 
With  numbers,  such,  as  stand  in  cyphers  stead 
To  make  but  others  mount  with  praise  vndue, 
For  nought  but  nought,  which  is  a  cypher  true. 
But  it  thou  wilt  be  messurde  by  thy  gaines, 
Number  not  words  but  number  pounds  with  paines. 
Who  with  a  sequence  of  but  onely  three. 
Would  wit  worth's  greatest  rest,  then  he«re  they  bee." 

Scourge  of  Folly. 

e  In  a  poem  to  his  "  worthy  approued  dee,re  friend  Mr.  Jackson, 
Manciple  of  All  Soules  CoUedge,  in  Oxford,"  he  says: 

"  Thou  art  a  townseman,  yet  the  countrey  mend'st, 
And  glad'st  it  with  what  there  thou  getst  &  spend'st; 
For  two  months,  in  a  time  of  pestilence. 
There  freely  cheer'd,  1  saw  thy  great  expence : 
While  thou  in  Oxford,  plagu'd,  wast  then  expos'd 
To  death  :  thy  family  and  mine  dispos'd 
In  safety  there,  where  wee,  besides,  were  fed. 
While  thou  for  vs  did'st  Hue  among  the  dead.        " 

Halt's  Bedlam. 

f  The  portion  of  Xantippean  spirit  inherited  by  this  lady  is 
lightly  glanced  at  when  he  tells  her  "  God  and  mee  thine  anger  oft 
offends;"  though  he  confesses  being  at  odds,  was  for  his  good. 
Her  maiden  name  was  Croft,  and  so  he  thus  distinguishes  her. 

"  My  Mai,  I  cannot  praise  thee  as  I  should, 
Sith  as  my  wife  (that  is  my  selfe)  I  hold. 
Yet,  for  the  comfort  still  thou  yeeld'st  to  mee, 
Faine  would  I  tell  posterity  of  thee, 
That  so  1  might  requite  thy  wifely  loue. 
Thy  care,  thy  paines,  (and  all  for  my  behoue) 
With  one  cast  of  mine  office  e're  wee  part, 
And  death  deuide  our  vndebided  hart. 
When  first  I  saw  thee,  thou  wert  Croft  of  Croft  ; 
Which  for  my  lownesse,  lay  too  farre  a.loft; 
Bnt  thou,  not  thou,  but  he  that  made  all  harts. 
Made  thine  affect  my  yet  small,  no  desarts  : 
That  (briefely)  thou  forsook'st  thy  richer  hopes,. 
And  thee  confin'de  to  my  poore  fortune  s  scopes. 
But  since ;  how  thou  hast  cherrislit  them  and  taee, 
I  may  not  say,  for  too  much  praising  thee. 
Yet,  this  strong  truth,  ev'n  wresteth  from  my  pen; 
Farre  worser  wiues  would  fit  farre  better  men. 
Y?t  when  thou  wilt,  thou  maist  thy  goo.dnesse  stint. 
But  if  thou  do,  I'le  crosse  this  praise,  in  print." 

,  Scourge- of  Foil/. 

a  supposed 


2SO 

a  supposed  mistress ;  s  complimenting  his  pupils  ; ''  adu- 
lating persons  of  distinction  j  gabbling  with  himself;'  and 

even 

i  The  author  louing  these  homely  meates  specially,  'viz.  creapie,  pan- 
cakes, hutterd  pippin-pyes  (laugh  good  people)  and  tobacco  ; .  ivrit  to 
that  -worthy  and  vertuous  gentleiuomm,  •whojne  hf  calls  Mistriise,  as 

follotveth. 

"   If  there  were  (O  !)  an  Hellespont  of  creame 
Betweene  vs  (milk-white  Mistris)  I  would  swim 
To  youj  to  shew  both  my  loue's  extreame, 
(Leander.like)  year,  dyue  from  brymm  to  brymm. 
But,  met  I  with  a  butter'd  pippin-pie 
Floating  vpon't ;  that,  would  I  make  my  boate. 
To  whaft  mee  to  you,  without  ieoperdy; 
Though  sea-sick  I  might  bee  while  it  did  floate. 
Yet,  if  a  storme  should  rise  (by  night  or  day) 
Of  suger-snowfs,  and  haile  of  Care-a-wayes ; 
Then  if  I  found  a  pan-cake  in  my  way. 
It,  like  a  plancke,  should  bring  me  to  your  kayes : 
Which  hauing  found,  if  they  tobacco  kept. 
The  smoke  should  dry  me  well  before  I  slept." 

Scourge  of  Folly. 
*  One  of  the  shortest  m^y  suffice. 
To  my  -worthy  ingenitus,  and  ingenius  pupill,  Mr.  Thomas  Bond. 

"  Vnder  my  hand  I  had  you  once  ;  and  now 
Y'are  fallen  vnder  but  my  pen,  my  plow; 
Wherewith  your  name  I  culture  thus,  you  bee 
A  Bondt\\Sit  binds,  because  you  are  so  free." 

Wit's  Bedlam. 
i  They  are  dispersed  through  each  volume,  and  are  tediously 
verbose  and  unpointed.  A  short  one,  in  the  first  person,  may  suf- 
fice :  it  appears  a  reply  to  one  of  Heath's  Epigrams,  1610. 

Of  my  sclfe. 
'•  A  drie  friend  lately,  thus  did  write  of  mee  ; 
But  whether  well  or  ill,  the  world  shall  see. 
•  There's  none  were  fitter  than  thou  to  endite, 
If  thou  couldst  pen  as  well  as  thou  canst  write." 
This  praise  is  capital! ;  ah,  so  wer't  scan'd. 
Then  should  my  head  bee  prais'd  before  my  hand; 
But  this  doth  lightly  lift  my  hand  so  hie 
To  fall  on  mine  owne  head  more  heauily ; 
If  I  deserue  it,  still  so  let  it  fall, 
So  shall  my  shame,  not  fame  bee  capitall  1 
If  not  that  Heath-bredde  Muse  is  but  a  dr,ibb, 
That  (Joab-like)  embraceth  with  a  stabb. 

Three  lerkesfor  this,  but  lustife  is. 
"  Whether  a  grace  or  guird  these  lines  do  close  in. 
Heath  wil  be  iudge,  which  shames  the  place  it  growes  in. 

"  Haue 


251 

even  furnishing  bis  own  epitaph,  ■=  witliout  affording  a 
glar\ce  at  his  personal  history.  As  a  writing  master  he 
appears  to  have  particularly  excelled, '  and  tu  have  ranked 
among  his  pupils  the:  high  spirited  Prince  Henry."" 
Wood  repeats  frorn  Fuller,  that  "  he  was  esteemed  the 
greatest  master  of  his  pen  that  England  in  his  age  be- 
held ;  for  fast  writing ;  fair  w  rititig,  which  looked  as  if  it 
had  been  printed;  close  writing,  and  various  writing,  as 
secretary,  Koman,  &c."  Some  nf  his  contenyporaries  con- 
sidered him  a  wit;  biit  although  "wit  is  eternal,"  that 
dubious  title  is  not  always  a  passport  to  extended;  fame." 

However, 

"  Haiie  I  for  the  schoole  thou  learn'st  in  bin  loue  sicke? 
And  mak'st  rh  lu  me  but  a  toole  by  a  schoole-tricke  ? 
O!  once  againe  for  mv  loue,  geiirle 
John,  come  kisse  me  now.-^Mary  itncl  will. 


"  If  my  rimes  runne  as  th'ne,  with  faults  so  full, 

I  would  my  braines  were  bucterd  in  thy  skull."       Sc.  off. 

^  Postea.  p,  264.. 

1  Jgatnst  Gaulus  the  ^writing-country  Schok-maistsr. 

"  Giulus  thou  writ'st  thy  selte  my  scholer;  and 
u  'iaist  thou  dost  it  scholers  so  to  get; 
B^.  for  thine  owne,  thou  still  dosr  shew  my  hand. 
So  thou  deal'st  p'aine,  thou  canst  not  counterfet." 

WiCs  Bedlam..^ 

!"  Granger,  Vol.11,  p.  46.  This  writer  speaks  of  a  head. of 
our  author  before  one  of  his  copy-books. 

"  At  the  htad  of  noticps  by  contemporaries,  may  be  placed  the 
following  lines,  from  The  Refvrne  from  Pernassvs :  or  the  Scourge 
pf  Simony.  r6^6. 

"  Acute  lohn  Dauis  I  affect  thy  rynies, 

That  ierck,  in  hidden  chariTie»,  tiles'-  looser  times; 
Thy  plainer  verse,  thy  viaft'ecied  vaine, 
Is  grac'd  with  a  iuire  and  a  sooping  traine." 

These  were  applied  by  Hawkins  in  the  Origin  of  the  English 
Drama,  to  our  author,  and  that  "  the  woik  here  alluded  to, 
■  seems  to  be  his  Scourge  of^FoUy''  This  must  be  a  mistake,  that 
work  not  being  p  inted  till  after  1510;  Dr.  Farmer  says  "this 
printed  ifin,  or"i6i  i,"  and  the  above  allusion  seems  more  appli- 
cable to  the  author  of  Nosce  Teipsum,,vihose  verses  and  risitig  fame 
Vere  then  rapidly  advancing  on  the  public  ear.— The  notices  by 

Owen, 


However,  it  may  be  recorded,  that  from  the  very  uncom- 
mon collection,  styled  "  Wits  Bedlam,"  now  first  noticed 
as  his  production,  several  coarse  pieces  of  levity  were  se- 
lected and  remodelled  in  prose,  by  Mottley,  the  dramatic 
writer  when  he  formed  the  Gentleman's  Jester,  alias  Joe 
Miller  °  and  they  continue  to  hold  a  place  in  those  dis- 
tinguished pages.  Davies's  poetical  attempts  aregenerally 
heavy,  dull,  obscure,  and  inharmonious;  and  his  pages  are 
remarkable  for  inconsistency.  One  while  he  is  pouring 
forth  celestial  rhapsodies,  and  then  "  with  jerkes  of  wit, 
(as  he  terms- them)  to  whip  euery  vice,"  blundering  on 
expressions  too  gross  for  pen  or  press,  while. the  reader, 
who  may  have  been  edified  by  his  morality,  is  left  to  fill 
up  the  blank  of  a  disgusting  parenthesis.  His  witticisms 
are  often  feeble  puns,  double  entendres,  and  occasionally 
have  their  point  depending  on  a  fabricated  name.  Yet 
though  the  w'hole  of  his  pieoes  now  class  as  rare,  from 
their  number  it  seems  presumable  they  were  not  ill  re- 
ceived. To  us  moderns,  however,  there  seldom  appears 
poignancy  in  his  witdr  nerve  in  his  poetry,  i" 

Witt's  Pilgrimages  dedicated  in  rhime  to  Lord  Philip 
Herbert,  Earle  of  Mountgomery,  by  "  the  most  free, 
bounden  and  vnalterable  humble  louer  of  your  Honor, 
Name,  and  Family,  lohn  Dauies  of  Hereford."    Second 

Owen,  who  had  a  reciprocal  compliment  from  our  author,  and  by 
j6nson.  Freeman,  and  Dunbar,  appear  undoubtedly  intended  for 
our  John  Da  vies.  See  Fragment,  Fol.  IF.  of  Wartoii'i  History  of 
English  Poetry,  p.%7. 

•  This  medley  of  levity,  wit,  and  humour,  was  compiled  during 
temporary  intervals  from  violent  paroxysms  of  the  gout ;  whereby 
Mottley  was  almost  bed-ridden.  His  life,  usually  considered  from 
his  own  pen,  mentions  he  had  "  given  the  public  the  book  that 
bears  the  title  of  Joe  Miller's  Jestt,  [and]  was  a  collection  made 
by  him  from  other  books,  and  a  great  part  of  it  supplied  by  his 
memory,  from  original  stories,  i-ecoUected  in  his  former  conversa- 
tions." See  Wbincop's  Scanderberg,  -with  list  of  Dramatic  Poets, 
174,7,  p.  267,  JoeMiUer  was  a  performer ;  the  Edwin  or  Matthews 
of  his  day. 

V  Four  of  Davies's  pieces  are  noticed  in  Cens.  Lit.  and  one  in 
Beloe's  Anecdotes,  II.  98.  The  latter  of  these  contains  verses  by 
Davies  to  the  Right  Worshipful  his  "  deere  scholler  Sir  Humfry 
Baskeruile,  of  Eurley,  Knt.,"  with  others  pj-efixed  by  Ed.  Sharp- 
liell  and  Ro.  Cox,  to  their  beloved  master  ]ohrt.  Davies  of  Hereford, 
Wood's  date  is  right.  "  Humour^  Hea'v'n  on  Earth,'"  was  pub- 
lished in  1609.  \ 

address 


253 

address  to  the  same,  "and  his  most  honorable  other 
halfe.  Sir  lames  Haies,  Knight."  *  Then 

"  The  Booke  to  Grauitie. 

"  Thou  that  dost  knitte  the  brow  to  austere  lookes. 

At  what  bat  seemes ;  or  els  is  lewdci  or  light  j 
And  look'st  for  wisedome  oft  in  witlesse  bookes, 

(Steme  Grauity)  auert  from  me  thy  sight. 
I  am  the  issue  of  a  labring  braine. 

Wherein  all  kind  of  fancies  breeding  bee  : 
Good,  bad,  indifferent,  all,  of  either  straine. 

Some  as  vnfitte,  as  some  are  fitt^  for  thee. 
1  prohablie  presume  thou  canst  not  loue, 

Sith  Saturne  sits  aboue  faire  Venus  swaie. 
Then  am  I  not  for  thee,  for  I  do  raooue 

But  in  her  spheare  that  beares  the  world  awaie. 
Yet  if  (vnJike  thy  selfe)  thou  long'st  to  see 

What,  who,  and  whence  I  am,  then  smooth  thy  fro^t. 
And  looke  on  that  which  I  haue  good  in  mee. 

And  for  that  good  hold  me  in  good  account : 
For,  if  (but  like  a  flesh-flie)  thou  wilt  light 

On  nought  but  sores,  and  shun  the  soundest  parts 
Then  nought  sublunarie  can  thee  delight : 

For  all  haue  faults  though  som  haue  perfect  parts. 
I  grant  my  Ijnes  reache  not  to  those  respectes 

That  touch  religion,  state,  or  policy : 
I  meddle  not  with  causes  of  effects 

Farre  greater  then  looe's  large  capacity ; 
But  in  round  rimes  (with  reason  biac'd)  I 

Do  runne  those  points  that  point  at  loue's  delight ; 
And  if  some  rubbes  do  make  me  run  awry, 
Yet  may  I,  on  this  ground  well  runne  aright : 
But  howsoere  I  runne,  stoppe  not  my  race. 
That  tends^  but  to  the  Mistris  full  of  grace." 

"  The  Author  to  his  Muse,"  and  "  of  my  selfe,"  also 
precede  the  amorous  Sonnets,  which  form  103  in  num- 
ber, exclusive  of  two  short  poems.  Thefollowing  are 
extracted  from  this  division. 

"  Ha  !  there  shee  goes,  that  goes  away  with  me. 
And  here  stand  I,  that  haue  her  in  my  hartj 
She  flees  from  me,  and  yet  I  with  her  flee. 
For  no  diuision  can  vs  wholy  part. 

*  Tbe  Historie  oflvstinSi  &c  translated- by  G.  W.  1606,  is  also 
dedicated  to  him. 

FairQ 


254 

F&ire  fall  thee,  buxome  aire,  that  yet  dost  hold 

The  scent-of  her  late  presencej  for  thy  grace  : 
Thou  dost,  sweet  aire,  but  what  the  heauens  wold. 

If  they  so  happy  were  it  to  embrace. 
Who  breaths  this  aire,  their  breath  most  sweet  must  be. 

Though  it,  before  the  aire  made  most  vnsweet : 
On  it  rie  Hue,  till  she  returne  to  me, 

To  take  the  aire  which  from  hir  first  did  fleet: 
And  then  in  words  she  shall  receaue  the  samcj 
That  shall  be  sweetned  with  hir  praise,  and  name. 


Thy  beauties  blush,  like  fairest  morne  in  Maie, 

Faire-honied  sweet,  doth  so  intrance  mine  eies. 
That  whiie  thou  dost  those  roses  rich  dispfay, 

They  see  heau'n's  hue  through  thy  skins  christal  skies, 
And  did  my  fault  nor  thine  enforce  the  same, 

I  still  could  wish  to  see  that  heau'nly  blush: 
Yea,  I  would  see  that  glory  to  my  shame. 

So  that  my  faces  shame  would  cause  that  flush. 
Then  blame  me  not  if  (when  thy  cheeks  1  see 

Died  in  a  tincture  that  is  so  diuine) 
My  cheeks  in  selfsame  colour  dyed  be 

To  make  thine  spread  their  dy,  by  dying  mine: 
Then,  blush  thou  not,  for  blushing  in  this  wise, 
Sith  that  hue  fiom,  and  for  thy  grace  doth  rise." 

"  Other  Sonnets  vpon  other  subjects,"  are  succeeded 
by  a  poem  "  in  praise  of  poesie."  For  "  an  amorous 
colloqui  twixt  Dorus  and  Pamela,"  he  has  imitated  and 
enlarged  upon  the  poem  of  "  Astrophell  to  his  Stella,*'  by 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  inserted  in  England's  Helicon,  p.  164. 
It  here  extends  to  above  fifty  stanzas,  commencinff, 

"  In  a  garden  rich  of  flowres 
Wnll'd  with  bales  and  hawthorn  towres. 
In  a  towre,  the  rest  forsaking, 
Wo  kept  Philomela  waking. 

Here  heard  Dorus  and  his  saint 
This  bird's  musical!  complaint : 
Wiiile'lhey  harkned  to  her  singing. 
Their  hands  were  each  other  wringing. 
When  their  eares  were  cloid  to  heare, 
Notes  that  weuer  cloie  the  eare  ? 
Sith  hands,  harts  did  so  disrouer, 
Dorus  thus  did  woo  his  louer." 

In 


^55 

In  "  the  picture  of  Formosity,"  he  descants  minutely 
and  very  singularly  on  the  limbs  and  body  of  his  mis- 
tress; to  which  succeeds  a  shew,  that  "  in  loue  is  no 
lothsomnes."  Moral  "  essaies  vpon  certaine  sentences," 
and  ''  vpon  more  serious  and  sacred  subiects,"  conclude 
the  volume.  The  following  mode  of  repeating  a  portion 
of  the  antecedent  line,  may  amuse  :  Puttenham,  in  his 
Art  of  Poesie,  1589,  terms  this  heel  treading  kind  of 
verse. 

"  A  Dump  *  vpon  the  death  of  the  most  nolle  Henrie, 
late  Earle  of  Pemlrooke. 

"  Death  hath  depriu'd  me  of  my  deerest  friend. 
My  deerest  friend  is  dead,  and  laid  in  graiie: 
In  graue  he  rests  vntill  the  world  shall  end; 
The  world  shall  end,  and  end  shall  all  things  haue: 
All  things  haue  end  on  earth,  that  nature  wrought: 
That  nature  wrought  shall  vnto  dust  be  brought: 

To  dust  be  brought  the  worthiest  wights  on  ground; 
On  ground  who  hues,  in  ground  conf5ume  he  must; 
Consume  he  must  whom  sorrow  doth  confouiid : 
Sorrow  doth  confound  the  mind  that  care  doth  rust: 

That  care  doth  rust  full  soone  care  will  deuour ; 

Care  will  deuour  where  care  hath  greatest  pow'r : 

Where  care  hath  greatest  pow'r  it  frets  the  heart ; 
It  frets  the  heart  and  doth  perplex  the  spirit :    , 
The  spirit  perplext  procures  the  bodies  smart: 
The  bodies  smart  doth  quite  expell  delight: 
Expell  delight,  then  life  is  li£e  to  death : 
To  death  I  yeeld,  yet  cannot  lose  my  breath : 

My  breath,  why  did  it  not  forsake  me  than: 
Me  than,  eu'n  then,  when  that  my  friend  deceast: 
My  friend  deceast,  eu'n  as  niy  iuyes  began  : 
My  ioyes  began,  eu'n  as  my  ioycs  surceast : 
My  ioy':s  surceast  ec'n  as  my  friend  did  dy  : 
My  friend  did  die,  and  so  would  God  might  I. 

i:  D." 

J.  H. 


•  See  the  notes  on  Romeo  and  Juliet,  ed.  1803,  Vol.  XX.  p, : 
and  Hanukins's  History  of  Mustek,  Vol.  IV.  p.  z6. 


The 


256 

*|  The  Scourge  of  Folly.  Consisting  ofsatt/vicaUBpi- 
igrammi,  and  others  in  honor  of  many  nobler,  and. 
worthy  Persons  of  our  Land.  Together,  with  a  plea- 
sant (though  discordantj  Descant  vpon  most  English 
Prouerbes:  and  others.  [Vignette  showing]  Witt, 
[with  a  label]  may  vp  with  him  if  he  were  my  brother: 
fscourgimg  the  bare  posteriors  of]  FoUy  [horsed  an 
the  back  of]  Time;  [with  the  hoofs  of  a  Satyr.]  At 
London,  printed  by  E.  A.  for  Bichard  Redmer,  sould 
at  his  skiip  at  ye.  mest  gate  of  Paules.  Oct.  i>.  d. 
p.  p.  364,  and  iniroduetion  7  leaves.  The  whole  title 
engraved. 

A  dedicatory  Sonnet  "  to  the  most  noble  Theophilvs 
Lord  Watdeii,"  solicits  bim  to  "  accept  this  scumme 
of  wit  that  ftye&  before  the  |>reath  of  laughter,  lighter 
then  this  froth."  Several  "passages  before  the  booke," 
to  the  printer,  world,  &c.  "  The  Scourge  af  Folly,"  or 
first  ptart,  contains  about  three  hundred  epigrams,  on 
various  sabjects;  a  few  of  them  personat.     The  second 

{)art  is  "  vpon  English  prouerbs ;"  chiefly  I  brfievc  se- 
ected  fi-om  Old    He^wood's  Proverbs.     Of  above  four 
hundred,  the  following  are  amply  sufficient  specimens. 

"  Baccare  quoth  Mortimer  vnto  his  sowe. 
But  Wfiere's  a  Moitimef  to  say  so  now  ?" 

"  Hee's  a  Bench  whistler ;  that  is  but  an  yn'cEe, 
Whislliflg  an  tlunls-vp  in  the  King's  Beflch." 

"■  Ttet  epngram  passeth  all  that  I  know. 
With  which  there  is  but  a  wmd  and  a  bltm  " 

The  last  part  consists  of  short  epigrammatic  pieces, 
addressed  "  to  worthy  persons."  Perhaps  the  folfovving 
copious  extracts  have  their  principal  claim  to  notieefrom 
the  persons  addressed.  Other  names  of  public  characters 
occur,  which,  though  too  numerous  to  repeat,  consti- 
tute the  whole  work  a  valuable  acquisition  to  the  col- 
lector.* 

*  Near  the  close  of  tlie  volume  is  a  poem  ei»6itkd  Pa^s«-'x  Cua- 
tlaini,  of  which  an  account  has  been  given  by  Mr.  Park,  in  Cens, 
lit.  Vol.  VI.  p.  175. 

'Jo 


557 

"  To  Mr.  Thomas  Bastard,  and  the  Reader > 

^'  Ba^itard,  thine  Epigrams  to  sport  inclinesj  ' 

Yet-,  I  protest,  that  one  delights  rae  best. 
Which  saith-  the  reader  soone  dcuoures  thy  lines. 
Which  thou  in  many  houres  could'st  scarce  digest : 
So  fares  it  'tvvixt  the  reader  and  my  Muse  : 
For  that  which  she  compiles  with  paine  i  God  wot) 
This  word  she  choolsethj  that  she  doth  refuse. 
This  line  she  enterlines,  that  she  doth  blot : 
Heere's  too  much  ornament,  and  there  it  lackes. 
This  figure  's  farre  fetcht,  out  with  it  againe  : 
That  phrase  of  affectation  too  much  smackes; 
This  reasop  rime  doth  racke,  and  too  much  straine 
That  simili's  improper;  mend  the  same: 
This  application  's  harsh,  harmonious  make  it : 
Fye,  out  vpon  't,  this  verse's  foote  is  lame; 
Let  it  goe  vpright,  or  a  mischiefe  take  it : 
Yet  it  runnes  ill,  the  cadence  crabbed  is, 
Away  with  it,  for  sharue,  it  marres  the  rest; 
Giue  it  sweet  accent:  fy,  fy,  yet  I  raisse; 
Stores  make  me  scarce,  I  know  not  which  is  best. 
Heere  is  a  bodg?,  bots  on't ;  far  well  my  penj 
My  Muse  is  duU'd,  another  time  shall  serue; 
To  morrow  shee  (perhaps)  shall  too't  agen ; 
And  yet  to  morrow  she  (perhaps;  may  swerue. 
Well,  yet  at  last,  the  poem  being  pen'd, 
The  printer  it  presents  to  reader's  view; 
Some  foule  mputh'd  readers  then  (which  God  amend) 
So  slop  them  vp,  that  it  Jwould  make  one  spew 
To  see  how  rudely  they  fleuoure  at  once 
More  wit  than  ere  their  head-peece  held  perchance  : 
As  if  my  wit  were  minced  for  the  nonce. 
For  them  with  ease  to  swallow  with  a  vengance. 
Yet  preethee  reader,  be  not  so  vnkinde, 
(Though  I  am  bold  with  thee)  to  eate  me  too: 
I  beg  (being  thy  poore  cooke)  but  thy  best  winde. 
If  thou  wilt  not  do  this,  thou'lt  little  doo  : 
Bui,  if  J  shall  not  be  beholden  to  thee, 
A  rough  ryroe  choake  thee;  eate,  and  much  good  do 
thee,"  ] 

To  the  worthy,  ingenious,   and  learned  Knight,  S\ 
John  Harrington,  translator  of  Ariosto. 

"  Deere  Knight,  thy  nature  is  too  like  mine  o  ■  n?. 
To  leaue  thee  out  of  my  remembrances: 

VOL.    II.  S  T-iY 


258 

Tliy  muse,  of  yore,  this  very  way  hath  flowne ; 
And,  pluni'd  on  woodcockes,  wrens  and  ostridges: 
But  now  my  Muse  (with  pownces  not  so  strong, 
Hauing  some  geese  to  pull)  inuokes  thy  Muse 
To  beare  the  burden  of  her  merry  song. 
To  make  them  sorry  who  the  world  abuse : 

Thine  can  worke  wonders  in  this  kinde;  and  mine 
(Perhaps)  may  make  thera  grone  she  pulls  like  thine." 

"  To  my  worthily  disposed  friend,  Mr.  Sam,  Daniell. 

"  I  heare  thy  Muse  in  court  doth  trauell  now. 

Arte  speede  her  feete,  and  grace  (there)  speede  ]\tx  plow : 
It  they  come  short,  then  gaine  by  other  drifts; 
The  more  thou  get'sf,  the  more  it's  like  thy  guifts: 
If  yet  too  short ;   (to  ad  an  other  size) 
Get  one  foote's  length,  thou  by  thy  feete  shalt  rise. 
With  Pegasus,  from  Pernasse  to  the  skyes." 

"  To  my  well  accomplish.' d  friend  Mr.  Ben  lohnson. 

"  I  loue  thy  parts,  so,  must  I  loue  thy  whole : 
Then,  still  be  whole  in  thy  beloued  parts : 
Th'  art  sound  in  body  :  but,  some  say  any  soule 
Enuy  doth  vlcsr  :  yet  corrupted  hearts 
Such  censures  may  haue  :  but,  if  thou  bee 
An  enuious  soule,  would  thou  could'stenuy  mee. 
But  (ah !)  I  feare  my  vertues  are  too  darke 
Ffer  Ennie's  shadow,  from  so  bright  a  sparke." 

"  To  my  much  esteemed  Mr.  Inego  lones-,  our  English 
Zeuxis,  and  Vitruuius. 

"  I  once  did  sup  with  thee,  deere  Inego, 
For  nothing;   then,  to  me  thou  art  not  see: 
Yet  deere  thou  art  to  me  for  thy  deere  worth. 
Which  I  by  speaking-picture,  would  paint  forth. 
If  my  small  pen  thy  pencill  equall  could : 
Then  take  not  what  I  can,  but  what  I  would; 
If  not,  take  this,  (as  I  began  with  thee) 
Though  thou  be  deere,  thou  art  not  so  to  mee." 

"  To  my  heloued  right -utell-deseruing  friend  Mr.  Mm 
Speed. 

"  Sith  thou  art  Speed,  an.d  my  good  friend,  withall. 
With  Speede  He  tell  thee  thou  art  prodigall 

Of 


^69 

Of  thy  good  guifts  ;  and  giti'st  them  still  for  nought 
But  for  meere  fame  :  which  comes  where  least  it's  sought. 

Bat  thou  deseru'st  a  farre  more  worthie  fee; 

In  part  of  paiment,  then,  take  these  of  mee." 

"  To  my   right   ivorthily-heloiied   Sr.  John  Dailies, 
Knight,  Atturney  Generall  of  Ireland. 

"  Good  Sir,  your  nature  so  affects  my  name. 

That  both  your  name  and  naturb  are  mine  owne: 
And  in  their  loue  to  both,  aiFect  your  fame; 
Yet  hauing  not  like  fortunes,  liue  vnknowne. 
And  ;  loadstone-like)  did  not  your  nature  draw- 
Mine  to  the  poynt  which  yours  did  once  prdiect, 
These  hard  rimes  to  digest  (as  rude  as  raw) 
No  cause  should  ere  haue  brought  to  this  effect. 
But  yet  to  imitate  oijr  friends  in  ill. 
Is  much  more  ill,  and  too  vnkinde  accord: 
Of  ill  you  writ  too  well  and  so  I  will 
(If  so  I  can)  to  make  ill  more  abhord  : 
Then  if  you  like  these  purgings  of  my  braine, 
lie  neere  beleeue  that  ought  it  yeelds  is  vaine.'' 

*'  To  the  inimortall  memory,  and  deserued  honor  of  the 
writer  of  the  Tragedy  of  Mustapha,  fas  it  is  written, 
not  printed)  by  Sr.  Fulk  Greuill,  Knight. 

"  Swell  prowdly  numbers  on  words  windy  seas, 
To  raise  this  buskin-poet  to  the  skies ; 
And  fix  him  there  among  the  Pleyades, 
To  light  the  Muse  in  gloomy  tragedies. 
Vpon  Time's  scowling  brow  he  hath  indorc'd 
A  tragedy  that  shall  that  brow  out  weare; 
Whereinthe  Muse  beyond  the  minde  is  forc'd 
(In  rarest  raptures)  to  art's  highest  spheare: 
No  line  but  reaches  to  the  firmament 
Of  highest  sense  from  surest  ground  of  wit; 
No  word  but  is  like  Phebus  luculent : 
Then,  all  yeeld  luster  well-nere  infinite. 

So  shine  bright  Scoenes,  till,  on  the  starry  stage 
The  gods  re-act  you  in  their  equipage." 

"To  the  right  ivell-deseruing  Mr.  Mathew  Roy  den.* 

"  Mathew,  thou  hast  tane  custome  (now)  so  long 
Of  artes  abstruse,  that  I  do  inly  long 

*  Rob.  Armin  notices  this  writer  in  the  epistle  preSxed  to  the 
Italian  Taylor  and  his  BoJ.    See  notices  6f  him'  in  Cet/s,  Lit.  I.  &  II. 

s  2  To 


56o 

To  call  thee  lowdly  to  attend  on  grace. 
That  leads  to  glory  those  that  arte  do  grace: 
Thou  had'st  a  Muse  as  potent  in  her  pow'r 
As  those  in  which  the  heu'ns  all  graces  powre: 
T  hen,  as  my  rimes  equiuocally  meete. 
So,  double  fame  for  thy  like  arte,  is  meete." 

"  To  our  English  Orpheus,  my  deere  friend  M.  lohn 
Allen. 

"  Where  I  thy  indge  (deere  lacke)  for  voice  and  skill. 
Thou  as  a  mortall  angell  should'st  be  held  ; 
For,  when  thy  heauenly  voice  mine  eares  doth  fill, 
My  soule  hath  much  more  ioy  then  she  can  wield. 
Whereof  (not  being  dainty  to  thy  friend) 
Thou  hast  of  yore  so  lifted  vp  my  spirit. 
That  (as  in  rapture)  she  heaun's'  pleasures  ken'd: 
For  which,  and  for  thy  loue,  and  other  merrit, 
Vpon  this  paper-stone,  He  graue  thy  name. 
That  times  to  come  may  know  thee  by  the  same." 

"  To  myne  ingenious,  and  learnedly  gamesom  friend, 
Mr.  lohn  Ouuen,  the  short  and  sweete  Epis.ramatist. 

"  Lend  me  thine  hand  ;  thine  head-I  would  haue  said; 

(For  my  band's  firmer,  though  thy  head's  more  staid) 

To  add  some  merry  measures  vnto  myne  ; 

Then  shall  my  book  be  prais'd  (at  least)  for  thine. 

Thou  (in  the  tongue  that  schoUers  most  approoue) 

About  Witts  center  dost  so  sweetly  moue 

Thine  orbes  of  arte,  that  witts,  which  them  obserue. 

Make  them  for  pleasure  and  for  profit  seme : 
Plasur'd  by  witt,  and  profited  by  skill : 
So  thyne  arts  heau'ii  reuolue  thy  glory  still." 

"  To  my  deere  friend,  Mr.  Charles  Fitz-Ieffery. 

"  Great  little  Charles  (great  in  thine  arte  and  witt. 
But  euer  little  in  thine  owne  esteeme) 
To  thee,  that  now  dost  minde  but  holy  writ. 
These  lynes  (though  louing)  will  but  loihsoxne  seerae. 
Yet,  sith  in  Latine,  thou  on  such  did'st  fall. 
In  British  now  (for  now  we  Brittaines  bee) 
I  send  in  such:  what?  nothing  but  mine  all  j 
That's  lesse  then  nothing,  in  respect  of  thee: 
But  if  thou  tak'st  in  worth  my  lesse  then  nought, 
rie  giue  thee  more  then  all,  when  I  am  ought." 

"  To 


z6i 

"  To   the  most  iuditious  and  excellent  Lyriok   Poet, 
Doctor  Campion. 

"  Vpon  myselfe  I  should  iust  vengeance  take. 
Should  I  omitt  thy  niention  in  my  rimeSj 
Whose  lines  and  notes  do  lullaby  (awake) 
In  heau'ns  of  pleasure,  these  vnpleasant  times. 
Neuer  did  lyricks  more  then  happie  straines, 
(Strain'd  out  of  arte  by  nature ;   so  with  ease) 
So  purely  hitt  the  moods,  and  various  vaines 
Of  rausick,  and  her  hearers,  as  do  these. 
So,  thou  canst  cure  the  body,  and  the  minde, 
(Rare  Doctor)  with  thy  two-fold  soundest  arte  : 
Hipocrates  hath  taught  thee  the  one  kindej 
Apollo,  and  the  Muse  the  other  part : 
And  both  so  well;  that  thou  with  both  dost  please 
The  mindcj  with  pleasure;  and  the  corps,  with  ease." 

"  To  honest  gamesome  Robin  ^rmin, 

That  tickles  the  spleene  like  an  harmeles  virmin. 

"  Armine,  what  shall  I  say  of  thee,  but  this. 
Thou  art  a  foole  and  knaue?  Both  !   fie,  I  misse 
And  wrong  the  much :  sith  thou  in  deede  art  neither. 
Although  in  shew  thou|)layest  both  together. 
Wee  all  (that's  kings  and  all)  but  players  are 
Vpon  this  earthly  stage;  and,  should  haue  care 
To  play  our  parts  so  properly  that  wee 
May  at  the  end  gaine  an  applauditee. 
Eut  most  men  ouer-act,  misse-act,  or  misse 
The  action  which  to  them  peculier  is  : 
Andj  the  more  high  the  part  is  which  they  play. 
The  more  they  misse  in  what  they  do  or  say. 
So  that  when  off  the  stage,  by  death  they  wend. 
Men  rather  hisse  at  them  then  them  commend. 
But  (honest  Robin)  thou  with  harmelesse  mirth 
Dost  please  the  world  and  (so)  enioyst  the  earth. 
That  others  but  possesse  with  care  that  stings  j 
So  mak'st  thy  lite  more  happy  farre  then  kings. 
And  so  much  more  our  loue  should  thee  iiubrace, 
Sith  still  thou  liu'st  with  some  that  dye  to  grace. 
And  yet  art  honest  (in  despight  of  lets,) 
Which  earnes  more  praise  then  forced  goodnesse  gets. 
So  play  thy  part,  be  honest  still  with  mirth, 
Then  when  th'  art  in  the  tyring-house  of  earth, 
Thou:being  his  seruant  whome  all  kings  do  serue, 
Maist  for  thy  part  well  play'd,  like  praise  deserue. 
s  3 


s62 


For.  in  that  tyri,ng.-boVise  wben  either  bee, 
Y'are  oiifi  mans  men,  w)d  equall  in  degiee. 
So  thou,  in 
To  do  as  thoi 


mans  men,  ivncl  equan  in  acgicc, 

1  spurt,  the  happies-t  men  dost  schoole 

loA  doslj  wisely'  play  the  foole." 


J.  H. 


^  Wits,  Bedlam, 

Where  is  had, 


l^hipping  cheer,  to  cure  the  mad. 

The  Booke, 

Those  Epigrams  faine  would  I  owe, 
Where  euery  word  is  a  uord  and  a  blow. 
Eeprofes,  where  they  aie  well  deserii'd,  must  he  well 

paide. At  London,  printed  by  G.  Eld,  and.  are  to 

be  sould  by  fames  Dauies,   at  the  Red  Crosse  nere 
Fleete-streete  Conduit.   1617.  Oct.  Lin  8. 

Some  gnonvmous  dedicatory  lines  are  entitled  "  to 
tlie  Right  Nobk'  Lord  the  Earle' of  Buckingham,  be  much 
mirth,  peniiancmt  pleasure,  and  endiesse  happinesse, 
here,  and  elsewher?."  Like  the  subject  of  the  preceding 
article,  this  has  several  short  pieces  as  "  passages  before 
the  Epigrams,"  which  are  near  4CC;  and  at  the  end 
about  erghty  Epitaphs.  The  identity  of  the  author  is 
early  traced : 

"  Be  quiet  wit,  leaue  beating  of  my  brajne 
To  do  the  worke  of  playing  but  du  crimes,: 
To  Scourge  tlie  Eollyes  of  the  world  is,  vaine, 
If  thy  whips  lines  be  nought  but  rotten  rymes..  * 

There  also  occurs  an  address  from  ■ 

"  The  Booke  to  Grauilie. 

"  Sterne  Grauity  auert  thy  face  from  me; 
Or  looke  not  saddly  on  me:  for,  I  am 
Too  light,  someAvhere,  for  eyes  too  sad  to  see; 
And  yet  sijch  lightnesse  shews  but  vice  her  sharae: 
But  to  reprone  vice,  viciously,  is  more 
Amisse,  I  feare,  the  salu's  worst  than  the  sore: 

Yet    t    t 


(( 


363 

Yet  grace  itselfe  can  hardly  wit  pefswade. 
That  it  is  sin  to  call  a  spade  a  spade." 

Against  the  nohly- descended  Muscus,  who  wedded  a 
Butcher's  fat  daughter. 

"  The  -well-borne  Muscus  wedded  hath  of  late 
A  Butcher's  daughter  fat,  for  pounds  &  plate  : 
Which  match  is  like  a  pudding,  sith  in  that 
He  puts  the  bloud,  her  father  all  the  fat." 

"  Of  Maurus  Ms  Orpheus-like  melody. 

"  Maurus,  last  morne,  at's  mistris  window  plaid 
An  Hunts-vp  on  his  lute  :  but  she,  (it's  said) 
Threw  stones  at  him :  so  he,  like  Orpheus,  there. 
Made  stones  come  flying  his  sweet  notes  to  heare." 

*'  Of  the  deernesse  of  Phisitions. 

"  Like  haukes  phisitions  euer  are  esteem'd. 

Which  as  they  kill  thrush,  partridge,  duck,  or  crane, 
Are  priz'd  thereafter  :   so,  is  euer  deem'd 
Phisitions  skill  by  those  they  kill,  or  bane. 
If  but  poore  clownes  or  tradesmen  they  destroy, 
Th'  are  held  of  small  accompt :  if  lords,  or  earles. 
Then  more,  much  more:  but  if  they  skill  employ 
To  kill  a  prince,  th'  are  held  as  deere  as  pearles  : 
Then  all  phisitions,  that  would  faine  be  deere. 
Employ  their  skill,  at  least,  to  kill  a  peere. 

Of  the  Carpet- Knights  Sir  Sim  Soust  Gurnerd,  his 
Quarter-  Iran  les . 

"  Sir  Sim  Soust-Gurnerd,  loues  notes  fresh  &  Sweety 
And  hath  an  organ  chamber'd  next  the  street. 
Whereon  he  playes  of  purpose  as  appeares. 
To  haue  all  passers  by  him  by  the  eares  : 
Yet  sweetly  braules  in  tune  with  stroakes  of  art. 
But  dares  not  strike  a  Discord  for  his  heart." 

'  The  Tightest  Seruingmen  are  the  Tightest  Courtiers. 

"  Courtiers  may  seruingmen  be  stil'd :  what  then  ? 
Then  cannot  they  serue  God,  for  seruing  men." 

s  4  "To 


264 

"  To  my  learnedly  witty  friend,  Mr.  Beniamin  Johnson. 

"  Tby  sconse,  that  guards  thy  wits  as  it  they  guard. 
Large,  round,  &  sound,  >et  uo  whit  can  be  spar'd  : 
For  thy  Wits  throng  ;  that  plenty  makes  thee  scarce, 
Which  maizes  thee  slow,  as  sure  in  prose  or  verse. 
As  say  thy  worst  detractors  j   then,  if  thou 
For  all  eternity,  writ'st  sure  and  slowe. 
Thy  Wits,  as  they  come  thronging  out  of  dore. 
Do  sticke  awhile,  to  spread  their  praise  the  more." 

"  To  my  deare  Mother,  *  the  citty  of  Hereford, 

"  Thou  gau'st  me  breath,  and  I  will  glue  thee  fame 
By  writing,  in  a  double  kind:   thy  nanne 
I  borrow'd  once  to  add  to  mine  :  and  yet 
I  hold  to  it  still ;  for  which  the  debt 
Is  clearest  fame;  He  pay  thee  at  long  running. 
Else  shall  my  hand  and  head  forget  their  cunning." 

"  Epitaph  vpon  a  noted  common  Iyer,  lack  ap  lack. 

"  Here  lies  lack  ap  lack:  and  wotyee  why  ? 
A  liue  he  still  lyde;   and  dead  still  must  lye: 
Who,  in  his  life,  lyde  willingly  siill. 
But  here  in  death,  lies  against  his  will." 

"  The  Author' s  Epitaph. 

"  Long  after  all  was  made,  I  made,  was  raarr'd 
By  error  of  my  parents  ere  I  err'd  : 
For  to  the  world  T  came  through  their  offence. 
Which  made  m^-  sinfull  in  mine  innocence. 
I  lou  d  the  Muses,  and  sought  by  them 
Long  life  in  this  life's  shadow  of  a  dreame ; 
But,  I  am  gon;  andmy  remaines  (I  gesse) 
Are  but  the  laboures  of  my  idlenesse. 
Which,  liuing,  die:  so  all  thereby  J  got 
Is  Fame,  (perhaps)  which  (past  perhaps)  is  not; 
At  least  is  not  to  me,  sith  dead  I  am: 
And  haue  no  sence  of  aire.  Fame's  surer  name : 
1  loud  faire  writing;  and  could  write  as  faire 
As  any  that  for  that  had  got  that  aire. 

•   An  Epigram,  in  the  Scourge  of  Folly,  is  inscribed  "  to  my 
louing  and  deere  mother,"  &c. 

I  taught 


26  s 

I  taught  it  others,  but  my  greatest  fee 
Was  fairest  fame:  the  fowler  shame  for  mee 
Jn  mens  accompt,  who  hold  all  gettiiigs  vaine. 
That  tend  to  grace  and  glory  more  tlian  gaine. 
My  heart  was  manly  in  a  double  srnce, 
Kind  to  my  friends,  and  apt  to  giue  otFence 
To  my  offenders :  so  heart,  hand  and  head. 
Had  precious  guifts,  that  did  me  little  stead. 
I  found  the  world  as  Abel  found  it,  sith 
[t  harm'd  me  most  that  medl'd  least  therewith. 
I  found  my  flesh  my  housbold  foe,  while  I 
The  diuell  found  my  forraigne  enemy  : 
So  inwardly  and  outwardly  I  found 
■  My  life  still  millitant,  till  in  this  ground 
I  lay  intrench'd  :   where  safe  I  lie  from  fight. 
Equal  to  Csesar  in  our  present  plight : 
If  oddes  there  be ;  herein  it  now  doth  rest, 
I,  being  a  Christian  man,  must  needs  be  best : 
My  soule  is  in  his  hand  that  made  me  so: 
His  glories  subiect  still,  in  weale,  or  woe." 


J.  H. 


^  The  Golden-groue,  moralized  in  three  liookes:  A 
tvorke  very  necessary  for  all  such,  as  would  know  hour 
to  gouerne  themselues,  their  houses,  or  their  counlrey. 
Made  by  W.  Vaiighan,  Master  of  Artes,  and 
Graduate  in  the  CiuilL  Law.  The  seomd  edition, 
now  lately  reviewed  and  enlarged  by  the  Authour. 
Imprinted  at  London  by  Simon -Stafford:  and  are  to 
he  sold  by  Richard  Serger  and  John  Browne.  1608. 
Oct.   D  d  in  eights. 

William  Vaughan,  Cambro-Briton,  as  he  styles  him- 
self, was  son  of  Walter  V^aughan,  of  the  Golden-Grove, 
in  Carmarthenshire,  Esq.  In  July,  1591,  he  was  a 
spholar  at  Westminster,  and,  according  to  Wood,  be- 
came a  Commoner  of  Jesus  College,  in  Michaelmas 
term  of  the  same  year,  then  aged  fourteen.  T  he  fruits 
of  his  scholastic  attainments  began  to  appear  uncom- 
monly early.     By  the  extract,  from  his  Address  to  the 

Reader, 


2^6 

Reader,  presently  given,  dated  in  1599,  it  will  be  found 
he  prepared  for  printing  an  easy  paraphrase  of  Persrus,  in 
English  and  Latin,  above  seven  years  before,  and  when 
he  could  only  be  in  his  fifteenth  year.  *  In  1597-8,  the 
publications,  enumerated  by  his  biographer,  also  be- 
speak a  prematurity  of  genius  not  usually  discovered  in 
one  scarcely  escaped  from  the  teens.  However,  the  dates 
are  partially  confirmed,  as  in  the  Golden  Groue,  he  relates 
"  in  the  yeere  of  our  Lord  1589, 1  being  as  then  but  a  boy, 
do  remember."— And  that  work,  which  first  appeared  as 
early  as  1600,  shews  an  extensive  reading  of  both  ancient 
and  modern  writers,  and  an  acute  observation  of  the  pass- 
ing world.  He  shortly  after  1600  visited  Vienna,  and,  his 
biographer  says,  after  performing  some  exercise,  f  did 
proceed  Doctor  there,  and,  at  his  return,  was  incorpo- 
rated at  Oxon.  in  the  same  faculty.  Anno  1605."  Some 
of  his  works  were  dedicated  to  his  royal  master  Charles 
the  First,  and  he  speaks  of  Sir  William  Alexander,  Wil- 
liam Burton,  John  Florio,  and  others,  with  the  familiarity 
of  close  acquaintance.  He  is  supposed  to  have  been 
living  at  Cambriol,  Newfoundland,  162S. 

*  His  announced  translation  and  commentary  on  Persius,  as 
well  as  that  of  Jwvenal,  mentioned  in  the  same  address,  probably 
awakened  the  ardour  of  Wood,  who,  not  doubting  he  had  other 
things  extant,  unavailingly  sought  for  them,  as  he  says,  "with 
great  scrutittjs."  Strange  that  our  biographer,  who  appears  by  his 
columns  to.  have  skimmed  over  the  pages  of  the  Golden  Fleece 
(which  forms  the  subject  of  the  next  article)  and  with  his  "  great 
scrutiny"  should  not  pay  some  attention  to  the  following  pas- 
sages in  that  work.  At  p.  13,  "  after  the  example  of  Traiaho 
Boccalini,  who  vnder  that  title  brought  forth  most  plausible  Rag- 
gualioes,  and  by  mee  now  of  late  communicated  to  our  English 
readers." — Again,  p.  22,  "  Fame,  by  sound  of  tiumpet,  had  pub- 
lished at  Parnassus,  what  great  contentment  and  pleasing  comfort 
the  wise  and  couragious  Prince  Charles,  Monarch  of  Great  Brit- 
taine,  tooke  in  reading  the  Ragualioes  and  Auisaes  of  tliis  high  and 
transcendent  court,  written  by  Boccalini  in  Italian,  and  with  kind 
and  gracious  acceptation  receiued  them  Englished  at  the  hands  of 
one  Vaughan,  a  Cambrobrit<>in,  together  with  certaine  presents, 
called  Cambrensium  Caroleia,"  &c.  Further  our  author  is  told 
he  had  exasperated  the  Papists,  "  specinlly  in  your  Golden  Groue, 
and  your  Circles  called  the  spirit  of  detraction  coniured  and  conuicted.'" 
Neither  this,  piece,  or  the  translation  fiom  Boccalini,  are  noticed 
in  the  Ath.  Ox,    See  Vol.  I.  col.  5^28. 

Back 


Back  of  the  title  to  the  Golden  Groue  is  "  Ad  fratvem 
de  Iiisignibus  suis  i' pigramnui."  Tt  is  dedicated  to  Sir 
John  V.  of  Goldcn-Groiie,  Kuight,  and  dated  "  from 
Jesus  Colledge,  in  Oxford,  Aniio  Domini,  1599.  Your 
loiiing  brother,  William  Vaughan."  The  address  to- the 
reader,  a,i:ready  referred  %&,  thus  concludes: 

"  Whereas  in  these  books  I  make  often  mention  of  my 
commentaiies  vpun  PersiuSj  thou  shall  vnderstand,  that  I  baue 
had  the~  ready,  together  with  a  most  easie  paraphrase  in  English 
and  Latine,  to  be  printed  aboue  seuen  yt-eres  agoe,  but  for  cer- 
taine  respects,  ]  caused  the"  to  be  closed  in.  a  case  of  delay,  and 
adiourneied,  till  I  find  better  leysure  to  put  them  forth-  For 
eut"  thus  &  thus  must  we  take  opportuflitie  for  y".  publishing 
of  our  labours,  how  soeuer  they  may  chance  to  please  the 
curious  sort  but  so  and  so.  If  I  could,  promise  my  selfe  kind 
&  giaciops  acceptance,  I  would  propiise  our  age  the  like  Cd"- 
mentaries  vpo^  a  satyrist  of  the  like  vaiije,  eugn  the  learned 
luvenal,  thereby  to  stirre  vp  other  men. 


quos  aequus  amauit 


lupiter,  aui  ardgns  euex.it  ad  agtbera  virtus, 

to  giue  light  to  his  gloomie  and  hidden  excellencie.  In  the 
n^eane  time  view  ouer  this  Gol.den,-groue  seriously,  and,  if  thou 
reapest  any  good  thereby,  glorifie  the  great  Lordof  Hierar.chiqs,, 
who  for  thy  sa|k,e  gaue  iije  grace  to  frarSie  it.  Earewele. 
Anno  ]  599.    Thine  in  the  Lord.     W.  V." 

The  commendatory  verses  by  "  at  least  pretenders  to 
poetry,"  are  in  Latin,  with  signatures  of  ''  lohannes 
'tVilliams,  S.  Theologis  Doctor  &  publicus  professor  in 
Academia  P  onicnsi."  "  Gulielmus  Osbern,  Procurator 
Academic  Qxoniensis  "  "  Hjenricus  Pricius  S.  Theo- 
logiae  Bachalerus,  &  CoUegii  sancti  lohannis  Socius."' 
"  Griffinis  Powel."  "  lohannes  Budden:."  "  Nicholaus 
I,angford,  Art.  Magister."  "  Thoinas  Came,  Art.  Ma- 
gister."  "  Gabrief  Powel."  In  English,  "  Thomas 
Storer,"  "Samuel- Powel,"  "  lohn  Raulinson,"  Masters 
of  Arts.     "  Charles   Fitz-Geffrey,"  *    and    '"  Thomas 

Michelborne." 

'^  "  In  p)-a}se-oftke.Golde,n-Groue,  moralized  by.  Master  yaughan, 

"  Amid  the  vaile  of  Idae's-biishie  groue. 

Before  a  biibed  iudge  (such  was  their  fate) 
A  Trinitie  of  goddesses  once  stroue: 
Gold  caus'd  their  strife  (the  cause  of  all  debate.) 

Now 


268 

Michelborne."  Then  follow  the  arguments.  The  work 
contains  three  books,  divided  into  plants,  and  subdivided 
into  chapters.  The  first  book,  on  the  Supreme  Being, 
and  on  man,  has  eleven  plants,  and  eighty-four  chap- 
ters:  the  second,  on  domestic  and  private  duties,  has 
five  plants  and  thirty  chapters:  and  the  third,  upon  the 
commonwealth,  has  nine  plants,  and  seventy-two  chap- 
ters. 

The  Golden  Grove  probably  formed  a  valuable  gos- 
sipping  work  for  the  public,  as  the  author,  to  extensive 
reading  and  quick  application,  added  many  local  stories, 
intermingled  wilh  some  few  of  the  marvellous  :  but  his 
pious  annotations  occasionally  seem  tinctured  with  a 
little  of  the  precision  of  Puritanism.  The  following 
specimens  shew  his  "manner  and  language.  In  his  ac- 
count of  Atheists  he  describes  the  death  of  Marlow,  with 
a  minuteness  by  which  he  appears  to  have  been  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  fact,  and  his  relation  varies  from  and  is 
not  any  where  noticed,  I  believe,  by  modern  biographers. 
After  describing  from  history  some  instances  of  God's 
immediate  judgment  on  Atheists>  he  says: 

"  Not  niferiour  to  these  was  one  Christopher  Marlow,  by 
profession  a  play-maker,  -who,  as  it  is  reported,  about  14.  yeres 
a-goe,  wrote  a  booke  against  theXrinitie  :  *  but  see  the  effects 
of  God's  iustice;  it  so  hapnedj  that  at  Detford,  a  litle  village, 
about  three  miles  distant  from  London,  as  he  meant  to  stab 
with  his  ponyard  one  named  Ingram,  that  had  inuited  him 
thither  to  a  feast,  and  was  then  playing  at  tables ;  hee  quickly 
perciyuing  it,  so  auoyded  the  thrust,  that  withall  drawing  out 
his  dagger  for  his  defence,  hee  stab'd  this  Marlow  into  the  eye, 
in  such  sort,  that  his  braynes  comming  out  at  the  daggers 

Now  a  new  iudge  their  qiiarrell  hath  acquited, 

Attoning  this  late-iarring  Trinarie, 
And,  sith  in  groues  and  gold  they  first  delighted. 

Hath  built  a  Golden  gioue  tor  this  faire  three, 
Where  Pallas  first  vnfoldeth  vertuous  sawes, 

Which  Venus  doth  conuey  to  families. 
Then  luno  tempreth  both  with  rightfuU  lawes. 

And  those  themselues  with  heauenly  policies  : 
So  these,  whom  gold  &  groues  first  set  at  strife. 
This  Golden-groue  combines  in  blessed  life. 

Charles  Fitz-GeiFrey.'*^ 

•  y'lde'Rltson's Oher-vatms on  Waj-ton''s History  of  EKglish Poetry, 
17S2,  p.  39. 

point. 


'z6g 

point,  hee  shortly  after  dyed.    Thus  did  God,  the  true  execu- 
tioner of  diuine  iustice,  worke  the  end  of  impious  Atheists." 

In  "  Remedies  against  couetousnessCj"  he  relates: 

"  To  mine  owne  remernbrance,  there  was  one  in  the  yeere 
IS89,  that  sent  foure  bushels  of  wheat,  (euery  one  consisting 
of  two  bushells  &  a  halfe  of  Winchester  measure)  into  the 
market,  and  was  offered  22  shillings  for  euery  bushell,  which 
he  refused,  hoping  to  get  2  shillings  more  on  the  next  market 
day.  But  see  the  reward  of  couetousnes  :  wheat  was  the  sold 
for  16  shillings,  &  within  2  markets  after  for  a  noble,  inso- 
much that  that  man,  which  refused  to  take  22  shilling  for 
euery  bushell  was  now  glad  to  haue  a  noble  for  the  same. 
Likewise,  a  certain  Knight  of  Oxfordshire,  punished  very  iustly 
(but  ouer  seuerly)  the  couetousnes  of  a  priest,  that  denied  the 
seruice  of  his  office  in  the  buryingpf  a  dead  body,  because  his 
widow  had  not  wherewith  to  pay  him  the  costs  of  y=.  funeral. 
For  the  Knight  himselfe  going  to  the  buriall,  caused  the  minis- 
ter to  be  bound  to  the  corps,  &  so  to  be  cast  both  into  one 
graue.  Which  done,  he  rode  straightway  to  the  court,  and 
with  some  intercession  begd  his  pardon  of  Q..  Mary."* 

"  Affabilitie,  (he  considers)  is  eyther  a  wittie  vse  of  speech; 
or  a  delightful!  recreation  of  the  mind,  or  an  amiable  shew  of 
countenance.  It  is  a  wittie  vse  of  speech,  whe""  a  man  moueth 
mirth,  either  by  the  quicke  chaunging  of  some  sentence,  or 
else  by  a  counterfeit,  extrauagant,  and  doubtfuU  speech,  as  for 
example,  a  gentlema~  on  a  time  said  vnto  a  gentlewoman: 
How  now,  gentlewoman,  what,  alone  ?  Shee  eftsoone  wittily 
answered  ;  Not  alone,  sir,  but  accompanied  with  many  honour- 
able thoughts.  In  like  sort  a  merrie  Recorder  of  London,  mis- 
taking the  name  of  one  Pepper,  called  him  Piper:  whereunto 
the  partie  excepted,  said.  Sir,  you  mistake  my  name  is  Pepper, 
not  Piper  :  the  Recorder  answered  :  what  differrence  is  there 
between  Piper  in  Latin,  and  Pepper  in  English  ?  There  is,  re- 
plied the  other,  as  much  difference  betweene  them,  as  is  be- 
tweene  a  Pipe  and  a  Recorder." 

"  Whether  Stage  play es  ought  to  be  suffred  in  a  Common- 
wealth.— Stage  playes,  fraught  altogether  with  scurrilities  and 
knauish  pastimes,  are  intolerable  in  a  well  gouerned  common 
wealth :  and  chiefly  for  six  reasons.  First,  all  stage  playes 
were  dedicated  vnto  Bacchus,-|^  the  drunken  god  of  the  heathen, 
and  therefore  damnable.  Secondly,  they  were  forbidden  by 
Christian  Parliaments  %     Thirdly,  men  spend  their  flourishing 

•  See  further  notices,  on  the  same  subject,  at  p.  291. 

f  Tertul.  lib.  de  speculo. 

\  Concil.  30.  Carthag.  &  Synod.  Liodic.  cap,  54. 

timv 


time  inglorioilsly  and  without  credit,  in  co~ternplating  of 
playes.*  All  other  things  being  spent  may  bee  recouered 
againe,  but  time  is  like  vnto  the  latter  wheele  of  a  coach,  that 
followeth  after  the  former,  and  yet  can  neuer  attayne  equally 
vnto  it.  Fourthly,  no  foolish  and  idle- talking,  nor  iestihg, 
should  bee  orlce  named  amongst  vs.  f  _  Fifthly,  stage_ playes 
are  nothing  els  but  pompes  and  shbwes,  in  virhich  there  is  a  de- 
clining from  our  beleefe.  FoC  what  is  the  promise  of  Cliris- 
tians,  at  their  baptisme .'  namely,  to  renounce  the  diuell  and 
all  his  workes,  pompes  and  vanities.  Sixtly,  stage  playes  are 
the  very  mockery  of  the  word  of  God,  and  the  toyes  of  our 
life.  {  For  while  we  be  at  the  stage,  we  are  rauished  with  thfe 
loue  therof,  according  to  the  wise  man's  wordes :  it  is  a  pastime 
for  a  foole  to  doe  wickedly ;  §  and  so  in  laughing  at  filthy 
things,  we  sinne."  W 

^  Of 

*  In  another  chapter  he  censures  indulgent  parents  "  who  take 
their  soimes  from  the  Vniuersitie  as  fruite  from  a  tree,  before  it 
is  ripe,  or  rather  as  pullets  without  feathers,  to  place  them  at  the 
Innes  of  Court,  where,  as  I  haue  written  in  my  Comraentaiie 
vpon  Persius,  they  gad  to  stage-playes,  &  are  seduced  by  flatter- 
ing Coni-catchers." 

t  Ephe.  5.  X  SaluisE.  lib.  6.  de  Gubern.  Dei. 

§  Prou.  X.  23. 
II  The  subject  of  stage  plays  is  again  discussed  in  the  Golden 
Fleece  ;  where  Thalia  is  summoned  by  Dr.  Wickliffe  before  Apollo, 
and  the  god  being  incensed  she  feared  least  his  frowning.  '•  might 
eclipse  the  honour  of  her  palace,  and  cause  contempt  to  her  fol- 
lowers, whereby  beare-bayting,  hawking,  and  hunting,  might 
perhaps  grow  in  more  request  then  stage-playes,  and  laziness, 
which  shee  patronized."  Thalia  defends  her  followers  in  a  speech 
of  some  length ;  and  the  following  passages,  frotn  Apollo's  reply, 
are  curious.  "  If  hereafter  I  heare  of  any  lasciuioUs  prankes  prac- 
tized by  your  countenance  in  your  palace,  I  will  discard  you  froiti 
my  court,  and  accept  of  the  chast  Lady  Sapho  in  your  place. 
The  Sabboth  day,  which  the  very  lewes  and  Twrkes  doe  obserue 
holy  and  reuerently  sacred,  you  haue  hitherto  profaned  in  licens- 
ing your  women  debauchedly  to  daunce  the  cushion  kissing 
daunce,  with  roysters,  and  ruffians,  yea,  and  with  Hob,  Dick,  and 
Hick,  vntill  the  vertuous  and  magnanimous  Prince  Charles  of 
Great  Brittaine  made  a  late  statute  at  Oxford  to  restraihe  such  vn- 

lawtull  sport,  on  that  sanctified  day How  many  idle  comedies 

haue  you  permitted  vndef  your  name  to  entrap  ingenuous  and  soft 
natured  people  ?  Knauery  once  dvscouered,  you  will  say,  may  be 
euer  after  the  more  easily  auoyded,  as  the  burnt  child  will  take 
heed  of  the  fire.  But  you  know  Lady,  euerie  one  is  not  an  indus- 
trious bee  to  sucke  the  choisest  floure,  and  to  m.ike  vse  of  what 

they 


371 

Of  the  solemnization  of  matriniony,  it  is  said  "  the  ancient 
French  men  had  a  ceremonie  that  when  they  would  marrie, 
the  bridegrome  should  pare  his  nayles,  and  send  the~  vnto  his 
new  wife  :  which  done,  they  lined  together  afterwards  as  man 
and  wife.  In  Scotland  the  ciastome  was,  that  the  lord  of  the 
soile  should  lie  with  the  bride  before  her  husband.  But  be- 
cause this  order  was  not  decent  nor  tolerable  among  Chris- 
tians, King  Malcome,  the  3  of  that  nam?,  in  the  yeere  of  our 
Lord  1095,  abolished  that  wicked  custome  &  enacted  that 
euery  bride  thencefoorth,  should  pay  to  the  Lord  for  ransome 

of  her  mayden-head,  fine  shillings* In  England,  in  some 

shires,  when  the  marriage  day  approcheth,  the  parents  of  the 
betrothed  couple,  doe  cerlaine  dayes  before  the  wedding  write 
letters,  to  inuite  all  their  friends  to  the  marriage  whom  they  de- 
sire to  haue  present.  Afterwards  the  marriage  day  being  come, 
the  inuited  gliests  do  assemble  together,  and  at  the  veiy  instant 
of  the  marriage  doe  cast  their  presents,  (which  they  bestow 
vpon  the  new  married  folkes)  into  a  bason,  dish,  or  cup, 
which  standerh  vpon  the  table  in  the  church,  ready  prepared 
for  that  pmpose.  But  this  custome  is  onely  put  in  vse  amongst 
them,  which  stand  in  need." 

"  Of  superfluitie  of  apparell;  another  cause  of  the  altera- 
tion of  kingdomes.  In  the  beginning  of  the  world  men  were 
clothed  with  pelts  and  skinnes  of  beasts :  whereby  is  to  be 
noted,  that  they  were  become  as  beasts,  by  transgressing  the 
co"mandement  of  God,  touching  the  fruit  in  Paradise.  Apparell 
was  not  giuen  to  delight  mens  wanton  eyes,  but  to  preserue 
their  bodies  from  the  cold  and  to  couer  their  shame.  They  had 
no  beuer  hats  sharpe  on  the  top,  like  vnto  the  spyreof  a  steeple, 
nor  flatte  crownde  hats  resembling  rose-cakes.  They  wore  no 
embrodered  shirtes,  nor  garmen  ts  of  cloth  of  gold.  They  knewe 
not  what  meant  our  Italianated,  Frenchified,  nor  Duch  and 
Babilonian  breeches.  They  bought  no  silken  stockins,  nor 
gaudie  pa"toffles.  Their  women  could  not  tell  how  to  frizle  and 
lay  out  their  hayre  on  borders.  They  daubed  not  their  faces 
with  deceitfuU  drugges,  wherewith,  hiding  the  handy-worke  of 
God,  they  might  seeme  to  haue  more  beautie,  than  hee  hath 
vouchsafed  to  giue  them.  They  imitated  not  hermaphrodites, 
in  wearing  of  mens  doublets.  They  wore  no  chaines  of  gold, 
nor  ouches,  iewels,  bracelets,  nor  such  lyke.     They  went  not 

they  find.     Most  men  are  enclined  to  embrace  the  worst.     A 
wittie  comedie,  I  confesse,  represents  the  liuely  actions  of  fraile 
persons,  if  the  lookers  on  were  endued  with  the  like  equall  dis- 
cretion to  discerne  true  gold  from  Alchymie." 
•  So  related  by  Polidore  Vergil. 

clothed 


573 

clothed  in  veluet  gownes,  nor  in  chamlet  peticotes.  They 
smelt  not  vnto  pooiander,  ciuet,  muske,  and'  such  lyke  trum- 
peries. *  And  yet  for  all  that  they  farre  surpassed  vs  in  hu- 
manitie,  in  kindnesse,  in  loue,  and  in  vcrttre.  Their  onely 
cogitations  were  bent  to  decke  the  inward  mind,  and  not  the 
outward  bodie,  which  is  nothing  els,  sauing  a  huing  sepulcher." 

In  the  chapter  "  of  poetry,  and  of  the  exceHencie 
thereof,'.'  occurs  a  passage  on  our  early  poets,  too  .appli- 
cable to  the  nature  of  these  pages  to  be  omitted,  and 
may  conclude  the  specimens  of  this  work.  > 

"  leffery  Chaucer,  the  English  poet,  was  in  great  account 
with  King  Richard  the  Second,  who  gaue  him  in  reward  of 
his  poems,  the  raannour  of  Newelme  in  Oxfordshire.  Neither 
will  I  passe  ouer  with  silence  the  fauour  of  the  French  Queene 
Anne,  wife  to  Lewis  the  twelfe  of  France,  extended  to  poets. 
This  Queen  passing  on  a  time  from  her  lodging  towards  the 
Kings  side,  saw  in  a  gallerie  Allen  Chartier,  a  learned  poet, 
leaning  on  a,  tables  end  fast  asleepe  :  which  this  Princess  es- 
pying, shee  stouped  downe  to  kisse  him,  vttering  these  words 
in  all  their  hearings:  Wee  may  not  of  princely  courtesie  passe 
by,  and  not  honour  with  our  kisse  the  mouth  from  whence  so 
many  golden  poems  haue  issued.  Frauncis  the  first,  French 
King  in  the  yere  of  our  Lord  1532,  made  those  famous  poets 
Dampearus  and  Macrinus,  of  his  priuie  counsell;  King  Henry, 
the  eight,  her  late  Maiesties  father,  for  a  few  psalraes  of  Dauid 
turned  into  English  meeter  by  Sternhold,  made  him  groome  of 
his  priuie  chamber,  and  rewarded  him  with  many  great  gifies 
besides.    Moreoner,  hee  made  Sir  Thomas  More  Lord  Chaun- 

*  Our  sturdy  moralist,  in  other  places,  censured  "  many  of  our 
ysig gentlemen,  who,  by  their  wise  parents,  are  sent  so  timely  to 
iearne  wise  fashions  at  Lo~don.  Such  are  they,  I  sav,  who  cary 
beehives  and  common-wealths  in  their  pates,  who  iet -now  and 
then  in  the  slreetes  with  bushes  of  feathers  on  their  cockesconibed 
sconces,  and  goe  attired  in  Babylonian  r.iyments."  Again  of  the 
courtezaiis  "  who  with  their  brayed  drugs,  periwigs,  vardingals, 
false  bodies,  tru^k  sleeues,  Spanish  white,  pomatoes,  oyles,  pow- 
ders, and  other  glozing  fooleries  too  long  to  be  recounted,  doe  dis- 
guise their -first  iiaturall  shape,  onely  sophistically  to  seeme  fayre 
vnto  the  outwarde  vie  we  of  tame  and  vndiscuete  woodcocks." 
Of  such  women  he  also  relates  :  "  some  bauds  haue'a  dozen  dam- 
sels, some  lesse,  yet  of  euery  man  they  take  largely  as  20  shillings 
a  weeke,  or  tenne  pound  a  month.  It  is  said  that  lo~g  Meg  of 
Westminster  kept  alwaies  7.0  courtizans  in  her  house,  whrf  hy 
their  pictures  she  sold  to  all  commers." 

eel  our 


CeVour  of  this  realme,  whose  poeticall  workes  are  as  yet  in 
great  regard.  Queeiie  Marie,  for  an  Epithalamj,  composed 
by  Verzoza,  a  Spanish  poet,  at  her  marriage  with  King  Philip, 
in  Winchester,  gaue  him,  during  his  lyfe,  two  hu~dred  crownes 
pension.  Queene  Elizabeth  made  Doctour  Haddon,  beyng  a 
poet,  Master  of  the  Requests,  In  former  tymes,  princes  the^n- 
selues  were  not  ashamed  to  studie  poetry.  A.S  for  example, 
lulius  Cesar  was  a  very  good  poet.  Augustus  likewise  was  a 
poet,  as  by  the  edict  touching  Virgils  bookes  appeareth.  Euax, 
King  of  Arabia,  wrote  a  Jbooke  of  precious  stones  in  verse. 
Cornelius  Gallus,  treasurer  of  Egypt,  was  a  singular  good  poet. 
Neither  is  our  owne  age  altogether  to  bee  dispraysed.  For  the 
olde  Earle  of  Surrey  composed  bookes  in  verse.  Sir  Philip 
Sydney  excelled  all  our  English  poets,  in  .rareriesse  of  stije  & 
matter.  King  lames,  our  dread  Soueraigne,  that  now  raigneth, 
is  a  notable  poet,  and  hath  lately  set  out  most  learned  poems, 
to  the  admiration  of  all  his  subiects. 

"  Gladly  I  coi^ld  go  forw.ard  in  this  subiect,  w^^iph  in  my 
stripling  yeeres  pleased  me  beyond  all  others^  weje  it  ppt  I  de- 
light to  bee  briefe:  and  that  Sir-  Philip  Sydney  hath  so  suf- 
ficie~tly  defe~ded  it  in  his  Apology  of  Poetry  5  and  if  I  shoiild 
proceede  further  in  the  commendation  thereof,  whatsoeuer  I 
write  would  be  eclipsed  with  the  glory  of  his  golden  eloquence. 
Wherefore,  I  stay  my  selfe  in  this  place,  earnestly  beseeching 
all  gentlemen,  of  what  qualitie  soeuer  they  bee,  to  aduaunce 
poetrie,  or  at  least  to  admire  it,  and  not  bee  so  hastie 
shamefully  to  abuse  -that,  which  they  may  honestly  and  law* 
fully  obtayne." 

The  last  leaf  has  three  commenda-tory  poems,  viz. 
"  Epigrarama  T.  Fi.  Art.  Magistri  ad  Authorem." — 
*'  Thomas  lames.  Master  of  Arts,  and  Fellovir  of  New 
Colledge,  in  Oxford,  to  Master  Vaughanj,  the  author  of 
&c."  wherein  alluding  to  the  author  and  his  brother,  he 
says : 

"  One  by  the  warres  hath  got  a  golden  name, 
The  other  by  his  pen  deseru'd  the  same." 

Last :  "  Ad  Magistrum  Vaughannum  de  aureo  suo 
saltu  I.  Pr.  Epigramma," 

J.H. 
VOL.  II.  T  The 


«74 


%  The  Golden  Fleece,  diuided  into  three  parts,  vnden 
which  are  discouered  the  errours  of  Religion,  the 
vices  and  decayes  of  the  Kingdome,  and  lastly  the 
xvayes  to  get  wealth,  and  to  restore  Trading  so  much 
complayned  of.  Transported  from  Camlrioll  Colchos, 
put  of  the  Southermost  part  of  the  Hand,  commonly 
called  the  Newfoundland.  By  Orpheus  Junior,  for 
the  generall  and  perpctuall  good  of  Great  Brilaine. 
Loiidon:  Printed  for  Francis  JVilliam,s,  and  are  to 
lee  sold  at  his  shop,  at  the  signe  of  the  Globe,  oner 
against  the  Royall  Exchange.  1626,  qto.  parts  i  &  2. 
pp.  105.  part '3,  pp.  96,  besides  introduction  and 
tables. 

Dedicated  in  English  aftd'  Latin  verse  to  the  King. 
An  address  "  to  the  indifferent  readers,"  observing  : 

"  What  a  masse  of  treasure  doe  we  yeerely  spend  in  for- 
reigne  commodities  ?  What  abundance  of  silkes  doe  we  con- 
sunieonour  backes?  What  a  deale  of  gold  and  siluer  lacef 
While  the  wary  Spaniard,  who  hath  the  Indies  in  possession, 
contents  himselfewith  his  owne  fashion  and  lesser  moderation 
both  in  apparell  and  diet.  The  Dutch  they  follow  no  extraua- 
gant  attires.  Euery  man  is  distinguished  in  his  ranke  :  some 
by  wearing  a  copper  chaine,  others  a  siluer,  and  the  nobler  a 
gold.  In  France  the  meaner  sort  of  women  weare  hoods  of 
taffata,  others  of  satten,  and  the  better  of  veluet.  No  man  in- 
trudes into  anothers  vocation.  But  with  vs,  loane  is  as  good 
as  my  lady :  citizens  *  wiues  are  of  late  growne  gallants.  'The 
yeoman  f '  doth  gentilize  it.     The  gentleman  %   scornes  to  be 

behind 

•  "  Citizens  in  generall  are  they  that  liue  vnder  the  same  lawes 
and  souerajgne  rtiagigtrates.  But  citizens  particularly  ars  they 
that  are  free-men,  and  do  dwell  in  cities  and  boroughs,  or  corpo- 
rated  townes.  Generally,  in  the  shire  they  be  of  no  account,  saue 
cnely  in  the  Parliament  to  make  lawes."     Golden  Grove. 

t  "  A  yeoman  is  he  that  tilleth  the  groud,  getteth  his  lining 
by  selling  of  come  in  markets,  and  can  dispend  yeerely  fortie 
■sliiiljngs  sterling."     lb. 

X  "  The  meanes  todiscerne  a  gentleman  be  these.  First,  hee 
must  bee  affable  and  courteous  in  speech  and  behauiour.  Secondly, 
he  must  haue  an  aduenturous  heart  to  fight,  and  that  but  for  very 
iust  quarrels.    Thirdly,  he  must  be  endued  with  mercy  to  for- 

■        giue 


275 

behind  the  nobleman.  Yea,  many  are  not  ashamed  to  go  as 
braue  as  ihe  king.  And  if  a  wise  man  chance  to  taxe  them 
for  tlieir  prodigall  humour,  they  will  answere  that  it  is  for  the 
credit  of  the  kingdome." — 

A  second  address  is  "  to  the  vncharitable  readers  or 
deriders  of  our  Golden  Fleece :"  verses  in  commendation 
by  "  lohn  Gvy,"  "  Stephen  Berrier,"  and  "  lohn 
Mason." 

An  introduction  sets  forth  "  the  occasion  of  this  trea- 
tise, called  the  Golden  Fleece',  and  the  reasons  which 
moued  the  author  to  intermingle  merrie  and  light  con- 
ceites  among  matters  of  consequence."  The  occasion  is 
founded  on  a  supposed  conversation  between  his  ac- 
ijuaintance  Sir  William  Alexander,  Master  of  the  Re- 
quests, and  Secretarie  for  Scotland;  his  antient  friend. 
Master  William  Elueston,  sometime  Secretary  to  Eliza- 
beth, then  cupbearer  to  his  Majesty;  and  the  author. 
The  drift  may  be  gathered  from  that  part  where  the 
learned  Knight  observes  to  him: 

"  You  obtayned  a  patent  of  the  southermost  part  of  New- 
foundland, and  transplanted  thither  some  of  your  countrimen 
of  Wales,  baptizing  the  same  by  the  name  of  CambrioH:  so 
haue  I  got  a  patent  of  the  neighbouring  country  vnto  yours 
westward,  beyond  Cape  Briton,  christning  it  New  Scotland. 
You  haue  spent  much  and  so  haue  I  in  aduancing  these  hopfe- 
full  aduentures.  But  as  yet  neither  of  vs  arriued  at  the  hauen 
of  our  expectations.  Onely  like  a  wary  politician,  you  sus- 
pend your  breath  for  a  time,  vntill  you  can  repaire  your  losses 
sustained  by  some  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  company  in  their 
returne  from  Guiana,  while  your  neighbours  the  right  honour- 
able the  Lord  Viscount  Falkland,  and  my  Lord  Baltimore,  to 
whom  you  assigned  the  northerly  part  of  your  grant,  doe.vn- 

giue  the  trespasses  of  his  friendes  and  seruants.  Fourthly,  hee 
must  stretch  his  purse  to  giue  liberally  vnto  souldiours,  and  vnto 
them  that  haue  neede  :  for  a  niggard  is  not  worthy  to  be  called  a 
gentleman.  These  be  the  properties  of  a  gentleman,  which  who- 
soeuer  lacketh,  deseriieth  but  the  title  of  a  clowne  or  of  a  courttrie 
boore.  In  breefe  it  fareth  with  gentlemen,  as  it  doth  with  wine : 
which  ought  to  haue  foure  good  qualities,  namely,  it  must  not 
taste  of  the  caske  ;  next,  it  must  sauour  of  a  gopd  soyle :  thirdly, 
it  must  haue  a  good  colour.  L-ist  of  all,  it  must  sauour  of  the 
goodiiesse  of  the  grape,  and  not  be  sophistically  mingled  with 
water  and  such  like."     Golden  Gron/e, 

T  1  dergoe 


dergoe  *he  whole  burtheiij  supporting  it  with  a  braue  resolu- 
tion  and  a  great  deale  of  expeoce,  which  otherwise  you  were 
obliged  to  performe.  The  like  inconueniences  I  haue  felt,. .  . , 
it  cost  me  and  my  friends  very  deare,  and  brought  vs  into 
much  decrements,  and  hath  wel  nigh  disheartned  my  poore 
countryxnen,  if  at  my  humble  suit,  our  most  noble  and  gene- 
rous king  Charles  had  not  ont  of  his  royall  magnificence  and 
respectiue  care  to  vs  and  our  posterities  restored  and  reuiued 
our  courages  by  conferring  such  monies  as  might  arise  by  the 
creation  of  Knight  Baronets  in  Scotland,  towards  the  erecting 
of  this  newe  fahricke  and  heroicall  action.  And  yet  I  feare  all 
this  will  not  suffice  and  defray  the  charge." 

At  the  close  of  the  conversation  our  author  retires,  to 
his  study  to  ruminate  on  some  plot  which  might  invite 
the  worldlings  for  their  present  and  future  good  to  em- 
brace the  fortunes  which  this  sister  land  offered.  This 
produces  an  opening  of  the  court  of  Apollo ;  discussions 
on  the  various  subjects  under  the  three  heads  in  thetitle; 
and  a  long  bickering  at  papists  and  lawyers.     Among  the 

i)ersons  introduced  are  Chaucer,  Skelton,  Scoggan,  Wick- 
IfF,  Broughton,  Florio,  our  author,  &c.  &c.  But  as  the 
Golden  Fleece  is  not  equally  scarce  as  the  above,  it 
is  needless  to  give  further  extract.  The  volume  has 
some  occasional  pieces  of  poetry,  which,  as  our  author 
"  went  beyond  most  men  of  his  time  for  Latin  especially, 
and  English  poetry,"  might  have  been  expected  to  risp 
some  little  above  mediocrity. 

J.  H. 


^  The  Sheapheardes  Logike:  conteyning  the  prcecepts 
of  that  art  put  downe  ly  Ramus :  examples  Jet  owi 
of  the  Sheapheards  Kalender;  Notes  and  exposition), 
collected  owt  of  Bourhusitis,  Piscaior,  Mr.  Chatter- 
ion,  and  diuers  others.  Together  wtb.  twooe  genal 
discourses,  the  one  touchinge  the  pray se  and  ryghte 
yse  of  Logike :  the  other  concernynge  the  comparison 
of  Ramus  his  Logike,   wtb.    that  of  Jirstotle.   Fol. 

Us.    ' 

The 


37; 


T[  The  Lawiers  Logike,  exemplifying  the  prcecepts  of 
Logike  by  the  practise  of  the  common  Lawe,  by 
jibraham  Fraunce.  At  London,  Imprinted  by  Wil- 
liam How,  for  Thomas  Gubbin,  and  T.  Newman. 
1588.  qto.  161  leaves. 

Of  the  printed  volume  the  author's  address  "  to  the 
learned  lawyers  of  England,  especially  the  Gentlemen  of 
Grays  Inne,"  gives  the  following  history. 

. "  I  first  began,  [he  says,]  (when  I  first  came  in  presence  of 
that  right  noble  and  most  renowmed  knight.  Sir  Philip  Syd- 
ney) with  a  generall  discourse  concerning  the  right  vse  of 
Logike,  and  a  contracted  comparison  betweene  this  of  Ramus 
and  that  of  Aristotle.  These  small  and  trifling  beginnings  drewe 
both  him  to  a  greater  liking  of,  and  myselfe  to  a  further  tra- 
uayling  in,  the  easie  explication  of  Ramus  his  Logike. 

"  Sixe  tymes  in  thease  seauen  yeares  haue  I  perused  the 
whole,  &  by  a  more  dihgent  ouerseeing  corrected  some  ouer- 
sights:  thrise  at  S.  John's  colledge  in  Cambridge,  thrise  at 
Grays  Inne,  since  I  came  to  London.  This  last  alteration  hath 
chaunged  the  name  of  "the  booke,  &  this  new  name  of  the 
booke  proceeded  from  the  cliaunge  of  my  profession.  For 
hauing  resolutely  determined  to  acquaint  myselfe  with  our 
English  laws  &  constitutio~s,  I  thought  good  to  make  tryall, 
whether  my  eight  yeares  labour  at  Cambridge,  would  ^ny 
thing  profit  mee  at  an  Inne  of  Court,  wheather  law  were  with- 
out logike  or  logike  not  able  to  helpe  a  lawyer.  Which  when 
I  prooued,  I  then  perceaued,  the  practise  of  law  to  bee  the  vse 
oflogike,  and  the  raethode  of  logike  to  lighten  the  lawe.  So 
that  after  application  of  logike  to  lawe,  and  examination  of 
lawe  by  logike,  I  made  playne  the  precepts  of  the  one  by  the 
practise  of  the  other,  and  called  my  booke.  The  Lawyer's  Lo- 
gike J  not  as  though  logike  were  tyed  onely  vnto  law,  but  for 
that  our  law  is  most  fit  to  expresse  the  prsecepts  of  logike. 
Yet,  because  many  loue  logike,  that  neuer  learne  lawe,  I  haue 
reteyned  those  ould  examples  of  the  new  Shepheard's  Kalen- 
dar  which  I  first  gathered,  and  therevnto  added  thease  also  out 
of  our  law  bookes,  which  I  lately  collecled." 

In  the  manuscript  are  copious  extracts  from  Spenser's 
Shepheard's  Calendar,  seleoted  to  illustrate  the  author's 
text:  some  of  these  were  afterwards  abridged  or  omitted, 
and  tlie  whole  ob-tained  so  enlarged  and  varledan  ap^ 

T  3  pearance, 


278 

pearance,  as  scarcely  to  leave  sufficient  trace  of  the  origi- 
nal, to  conclude  it  formed  a  portion  of  the  same  work. 
To  the  MS.  is  prefixed  the  following  dedicatory  lines : 

"  To  the  Ryght  Wnrshypful  Mr.  Edwarde  Dyer. 

"  Some  arts  wee  bynde,  to  some  one  kynde,  of  subiect  seueraHye  ,• 
As  this  to  counte,  and  that  to  mounte,  aboue  the  cristal  skye  ; 
To  measure  land  with  skilful  hand,  to  frame  or  fyle  the  tonge. 
Or  to  delyte  the  weary  spryte,  with  sweete  and  pleasant  songe. 
But  logikes  lyght  doth  shyne  owtryght,  her  streames  do  flow  so  far, 
Prcjn  kinges  aboade  to  Palinode,  from  sheepecote  vnto  star, 
Noe  t  fason  then  why  munkish  men  shulde  keepe  her  from  abroadc, 
Oi  idle  fooles  opprest  in  schooles,  and  alwayes  ouertroade. 
By  this  wee  preach,  by  this  wee  teach,  shee  in  the  heauen  sitts. 
Yet  sheapheards  swayne,  doth  not  disdayne,  but  meekly  hym  ad- 
Thatthis  is  true,  loe  here  a  new  and  fresh  logician,  [mytts. 

Who  mynds  to  proue  what  is  her  loue,  to  symple  countreymai>. 
By  those  that  keepeinfy  eld  theyr  sheepe,  a  sheapheards  logik  framde. 
Loe  be  yt  ought,  or  be  yt  nought,  the  lesse  cause  to  bee  blamde. 
Your  Woorshyps,  most  humbly  to  bee  commaunded, 

Abraham  Franse."  * 

This  dedication  gave  place  to  the  following,  when  the 
work  went  to  press. 

"  To  the  Right  Honoralle  Henry ^  Earle  of  Pemlrooke, 
Lord  Herbert  of  Cardyffe,  Marmyon,  andS.  Quynten, 
Lorde  President  of  the  principality  of  Wales,  and 
the  Marches  of  the  same.  Knight  of  the  most  nolle 
order  of  the  Garter,  and  Lord  Liuetenant  of  Wales, 
of  the  Marches,  and  the  counties  ofWyltes  and  Som- 
merset. 

"  If  lawes  by  reason  framed  were,  and  grpundeH  on  the  same; 
If  logike  also  reason  hee,  and  thereof  had  this  namej 
I  see  no  reason,  why  that  law  and  logike  shoufd  not  bee 
The  nearest  and  the  dearest  freends,  and  therfore  best  agree. 
As  for  the  fonde  conceyt  of  such  which  neuer  knew  them  both, 
Better  beleeue  some  mens  bare  worde,  than  their  suspected  otb. 
I  say  no  more  then  what  I  saw,  I  saw  that  which  I  sought, 
I  sought  for  logifce  in  our  hw,  and  found  it  .is  I  thought. 
If  all  that  I  haue  sought  and  found  your  Honor  doe  content, 
(Let  scribes  and  pety  peiimen  talke)  I  thinck  my  time  well  spent. 
And  labour  herein  well  iniploy'd  :  acceptance  is  my  meede, 
I  craue  no  more,  I  haue  no  lesse,  if  yon  vouchsafe  to  reede. 
Your  Honors  most  vnlaiiiedly  affectionate, 

Abraham  Fraunce.'" 


♦  The  name  is  thus  spelt,  and  the  manuscript  appears  in  the 
author's  hand  writing. 

The 


2n 

The  following  short  comparative  extract  is  from  the 
definition  of  Logick. 

■"We  reason  in  scholes  as  philosophers  j  inpulpit  asprechersj 
in  Westminster  as  lawyers  and  iudges;  in  court  as  princes  & 
lords ;  in  countrie,  at  cart,  at  plowe,  at  hoame,  abroadej  yea^ 
not  so  muche  as  the  mylke  mayde  w  ''out  reasoninge  sellethe 
her  mylke;  the  phisition  w">.  reason  perswadethe his  patient; 
the  scholemaster  teachethe  his  boyes  w'''.  regsoninge,  the  cap- 
tayne  ruleth  w*.  reasoninge;  and  what  shall  I  sale  more: 
Whatsoeuer  it  bee,  naye  whatsoeuer  thow.  canst  imagyne  to- 
bee,  although  it  bee  not,  yet  by  reasoninge  it  is  invented, 
taught,  ordered,  confirmed.  And  therefore  logike  hathe  bene 
for  a  longetyme  vntolerably  abus^  of  those  miserable  Sorbon- 
ists,  and  "dunsicaV"  Quidditaries,  \vho  thought  there  was  no 
logike  out  of  theyre  vaste  braynes, 'no  reasoninge  out  of  ther 
intricate  Quodlibets,  no  disputingis  w'''.out  arguitwr'  quod  sic, 
no  teachinge  w"'.out  pmlatur  qd  no7i,  no  parte  of  this  science 
w'h.out  er^o  &  igitur  wher  as  in  deed,  the  true  vse  of  logike 
is  as  well  apparant  in  simple,  playne,  and  easye  explication : 
as  in  subtyle,  stricte,  and  concised  probation.  Reade  Homer, 
reade  Virgil,  reade  Demosthenes,  reade  Tully,  naye  reade  S'. 
John  Cheeke,  reade  M'.  Ascham,  and  see  the  true  vse  of  natu- 
ral logike  the  grounde  of  artificial,  far  different  from  this  rude 
&  barbarous  kind  of  outworne  sophistrye."     MS. 

"  Men  reason  in  schooles  as  philosophers,  in  Westminster 
as  lawyers,  in  court  as  lords,  in  countrey  as  worldly  husbands: 
whatsoeuer  it  bee,  nay  whatsoeuer  thou  canst  imagine  to 
bee,  although  it  bee  not,  neuer  was,  nor  neuer  shall  bee,  yet 
by  reason  it  is  inuented,  taught,  ordered,  confirmed:  as  the 
description  of  fame  in  Virgil,  of  famine  in  Ouid,  of  elysian 
Ijelds,  of  Styx,  of  Acheron,  of  the  golden  apples,  and  a  thou- 
sand such  poeticall  imaginations.  And  therefore  logike  hath 
beene  of  a  loong  time  vntollerably  abused  by  those  miserable 
Sorbonists,  &  dunsicall  Quidditaries  who  thought  there  was  no- 
reasoning  without, Argidtur  quod  sic:  Prohalur  quod  non  :  no 
part  of  logike  without  ergo  and  igitur.-  Wherpas  indeede  the 
true  vse  of  logike  is  as  well  apparent  in  simple,  playne,  and 
easie  explication,  as  m  subtile,  strict,  and  concised  probation. 
Reade  Homer,  reade  Demosthenes,  reade  Virgill,  read  Cicero, 
reade  Bartas,  re^de  Torquato  Tasso,  reade  that  most  worthie 
ornament  of  our  English  tongue,  the  Countesse  of  Penbrookes. 
Arcadia,  and  therein  seethe  true  efFectes  of  natural  logike  which 
is  the  ground  ofarcificiall,farre  different  from  this  rude  and  bar- 
barous kind  .of  outworne  sophistrie."   Lawyer  s  Logick.  fo.  3. 

T  4  The 


28o 

The  MS.  concludes  with  two  distinct  sections,  the 
substance  of  which  may  probably  be  adopted  in  vaiicfas 
parts  of  (he  enlarged  treatise,  and  not  easily  to  be  tralced. 
The  first  is  "  of  the  nature  and  vse  of  logike."  The 
second  forms 

.  "  A  bryef  and  general  comparison  of  Ramus  his  logike  w'\ 
that  of  Aristotle,  to  y^  ryghte  Worshipful  his  verye  goad 
Mr.  and  Patron  Mr.  P.  Sydney.  Phormio  by  reporle  Right 
worshipful  was  scoffed  although  hee  spake  wel,  because  he 
spake  to  Hannibal;  and  myght  not  I  bee  scorned,  for  writinge 
il,  and  wrytinge  to  Philippus  :  for  as  I  am  sure  of  the  one  that 
Pliormio  was  as  wel  renowmed  for  a  philosopher  as  I  am  re- 
jected for  a  philosoph  after ;  so  am  I  certayne  of  the  other  that 
Hannibal  had  as  muche  nede  to  heare  precepts  of  ware  as 
bathe  Philippus  to  reade  rules  of  logike.  But  here  in  is  ye. 
difference  that  Hannibal  as  he  was  hardye  in  fyelde  to  reueng 
him  of  his  foes,  -so  was  he  to  hastye  at  home  to  reiect  his 
frende  the  wel-meanynge  Phormio  :  wher  as  Philippus  as  ia 
logike  he  goethe  before  manye,  so  for  gentlenes  and  courtesye 
more  may  come  bebynd  him."  This  is  a  disputation  between 
'5  too  Cambridge  sophisters ;"  the  one  "a  methodical  Ramyst, 
the  other  an  obstinate  Aristotelian."  The  last  asserts  "  logike 
is  nowe  six  leaues  longe,  &  eyght  daie  laboure,  w'"*.  before 
was  seuen  yeres  studye,  and  fylled  the  world  with  volumes  al- 
most infynite  :  herby  it  comes  to  passe  that  euery  cobler  can 
cogge  a  syllogisme,  euerye  carter  cracke  of  propositions : 
hereby  is  logike  prophaned  &  lyetb  prostitute ;  reraoued  out 
of  her  sanctuary,  robbed  of  her  honor,  left  of  her  disciples, 
raiiished  of  strangers,  and  made  common  to  all,  W'".  before 
was  proper  to  scholes  and  oil  lye  consecrated  to  philosophers. 
We  flye  with  winge  of  wax  j  we  rale  the  chariot  of  the  sunne 
without  discretion  :  so  must  we  fall  withe  Icarus,  and  perishe 
wythe  falinge:  so  must  we  burne  with  Phaetou,  and  dye  with, 
burninge.  A  sound  sclioler  is  called  a  dunse  :  and  dunse  is 
taken  for  a  foole.  A  logitian  of  ryght  yeares  standing  is  con- 
trowled  of  a  boye  of  sixe  weeks  continuance ;  and  that  which 
most  tormentethe  the  harte  of  al  wel  setled  Aristotelians, 
Aristotle  himselfe  is  quyie  defaced^  his  organon  caled  a  con- 
fused chaos;  his  logike  a  lumpe  of  matter  without  order;  more 
fytt  to  cbnfounde  y'.  memory  then  apt  to  instruct  the  mynde, 
more  worthye  to  serue  in  a  sylk  weomans  shope,  then  furnyshe 
a  scholers  lybrarye."  Thus  replied  to  by  the  Ramyst.  "  Owld 
dotinge  graye  beardes  talke  muche  of  Baralipton,  whiles  young 
headed  boyesbeare  awaye  logike.    They  thinke  muche  that  a 

boye 


boye  should  conceaue  that  in  a  weeke,  wbiche  they  could  scarce 
perceaue  in  a  yearc,  but  more  that  theyr  ould  learninge  should, 
be  corrected  by  newe  teachinge  and  theyr  labour  lost  w"".  so 
lyttle  profitinge,  hinc  illae  lachrimas.  A  superficial  shewe  is 
lytle  worthe :  and  an  outworne  headpeace:  is  lesse  estemed :  a 
meane  is  in  the  mydle.  A  face  is  commended,  but  w">.  his 
grace  :  seuen  yeares  to  miiche  eyght  dayes  to  litle,  a  meane  is 
had  betweene  them  bothe.  Coblers  be  men,  why  therefor  not 
logicians?  And  carters  haue  reason  why  then  aot  logike? 
Bonum  quo  communius,  eo  melius :  the  best  thinge  in  logike 
yo*.  make  to  be  worst,  in  thinkinge  yt  lesse  commendable, 
because  it  is  more  common: — a  spitefuU  speache,  if  I  durst  s& 
'Saye:  a  malicious  meaninge,  if  you  geue  me  leaue:  to  locke  vp 
logike  in  secreat  corners,  neuer  sufFeringe  her  to  see  the  lyghte, 
who,  of  herselfe,  as  she  is  generally  good  to  all,  so  will  she  par- 
ticulerlye  be  bdunde  to  none.  The  wings  of  wax  be  made  by 
fryers,  the  feathers  fet  from  monkyshe  trumperies.  Phaeton  is 
the  scholemens  inuention :  but  as  tier  of  true  logike  consumed 
the  one,  so  the  water  of  wysdome  ouerwhelmed  the  other  in 
this  our  flourishing  age."  [The  arguments  occupy  eight  folio 
pages,  closely  written,  and  conclude  as  a  simple  narration, 
wherein  nothing  is  -determined  :]  "  Pardon  I  praye  yow,  the 
stamsaeringe  messenger,  for  the  tyme  was  shorte,  the  place  vn- 
iquiet,  my  bodye  erased,  my  mynde  molested,  my  bookes  in 
Cambridge,  my  busynes  in  the  countrye,  the  reader  famouse; 
the  wryter  obscure,  the  matter  yll  penned,  not  worthe  the  pe- 
rusingc,  the  thinge  wel  put  downe,  subiect  to  slanderinge. 

A.  F." 

In  the  printed  work  is  inserted  tl\e  second  eclogue  of 
Virgil,  with  the  author's  attempt  at  "  interpreting  of  the 
same,  by  a  poeticall  paraphrasis,  for  the  contentation  of 
such  as  vnderstand  no  Latine."  It  is  given  in  "  English 
hexameters,  verse  for  verse,"  aij^,  as  the  volume  now  sel- 
dom occurs,  it  may  conclude  the  article  forming  another 
early  specimen  of  blank  verse, 

"  Seelly  shepheard  Coiydon  loa'd  hartily  faire  lad  Alexis, 
His  raaisters  dearling,  but  saw  no  matter  of  hoping^ 
Only  amid  the  forest  thick  set  with  broad-shadoe  beach  trees 
Daily  resort  did  he  make ;  thus  alone  to  the  woods,  to  the  mountain'. 
With  broken  speeches,  fond  thoughts  most  vainly  leuealing. 

O  hard  harted  Alexis ;  I  see  my  verse  to  he  scorned, 
Myselfe  not  pitied,  my  death  by  thee  lastly  procured. 
Now  do  the  beasts  eun  seeke  for  cooling  shade  to  refresh  the", 
Grgne  lyzards  naw  too  in  bushes  thorny  be  lurking:. 

And 


382 

And  for  faint  reapers  by  the  suns  rage,  Thestylis  hastning-. 
Strong-smelling  wilde  thime,  and  garlyke  beates  in  a  mortar. 
But  whilst  I  trace  thee,  with  sun  beames  all  to  be  scorched, 
Groues  by  the  hoarschirping  grashoppers  yeeld  a  resou'ding. 

Wast  not  far  better  t'  haue  borne  v/ith  surly  Menakas, 
And  sore  displeased,  disdainfull,  prowd  Amaryllis, 
Although  thou  white  were,  although  but  swarty  Menalcas  ? 

Othou  fiiire  white  boy,  trust  not  too  much  to  thy  whitnesj 
Faire  white  flowers  fall  downe,  black  fruits  are  only  reserued. 
Thou  carst  not  for  mee,  my  state  thou  knowst  not  Alexis  ; 
What  flocks  of  white  sheepe  I  do  keepe,  of  miike  what  abu'dance. 
On  Sicil  high  mountains  my  lambs  feed  more  then  a  thousa~d  : 
New  mylke  in  summer,  new  mylke  in  winter  I  want  not. 
My  song  's-like  Thebane  Amphions  song,  when  he  called 
His  wandring  bullocks,  on  Greekish  mount  Aracynthus. 
Neyther  am  I  so  fowle  :  I  saw  my  selfe  by  the  sea  shore. 
When  seas  al  calme  were  :   I  doubt  not,  but  by  thy  censure, 
Daphnis  I  shall  surpasse,  vnles  my  face  do  deceaue  mee. 

O,  let  this  be  thy  will,  to  frequent  my  rustical  harbors, 
And  simple  cotages,  and  sticke  in  forkes  to  vphold  them. 
And  driue  on  forward  our  flocke  of  kids  to  the  mallowes ; 
Wee  wil  amid  the  forest  contend  Pans  song  to  resemble ; 
Pan  was  first  that  quils  with  waxe  ty'de  ioyntly  together. 
Pan  is  good  to  the  sheepe,  and  Pan  is  good  to  the  sheepsman. 
Neither  think  it  a  shame  to  thyself  t'  haue  plaid  on  a  cornpipe : 
For,  that  he  might  do  the  same  with  skil,  what  did  not  Amyntasr 
Damaitas  long  since  did  glue  me  a  pipe  for  a  token. 
Compact  of  seun  reedes,  all  placed  in  order,  vniequall : 
Aad  thus  sayd,  when  he  dy'de  :  one  vsed  it  onely  beefore  thee; 
Thus  sayd  Damgetas,  this  greeued  foolish  Amyntas. 
Also  two  prety  kids  doe  I  keepe,  late  found  in  a  valley 
Dangerus:  &  their  skins  with  mylke  white  spots  be  bedecked. 
Of  dams  inilke  not  a  drop  they  leaue ;  &  for  thee  I  keepe  them. 
Thestylis  of  long  time  hath  these  kids  of  me  desired  ; 
And  they  shal  be  her  own,  for  that  thou  skornst  what  I  glue  thee* 
Come  neare,  o  faire  boy,  see  the  nymphs  bring  here  to  the  lillies 
With  full  stuft  baskets :  faire  Nais  now  to  thy  comfort, 
White  violets  gathering,  and  poppies  daintily  topping, 
DafFadil  ads  to  the  same,  &  Igaues  late  pluckt  fro  the  sweete  dill. 
Then  mingling  casia  with  diuers  sauory  sweet  flow[e]rs. 
With  yelowish  marygold,  she  the  tender  Crowtoe  bedecketh. 

He  plucke  hoare  quinces,  witli  soft  downe  all  to  besmeared. 
And  chessnuts  which  were  loud  of  my  sweet  Amaryllis. 
Add  wil  I  wheate  plumbs  too:  for  this  fruit  will  be  regarded. 
And  you  laiirell  leaueswil  I  pliicke,  and  thee,  prety  myrtle. 
Next  to  the  laurell  leaues :  for  so  plast  yeeld  ye  the  sweet  sent. 

Th'  art  but  a  foole  Corydon;  for  first  gifts  mooue  not  Alexis, 
Then,  though  thou  giue  much,  yet  much  more  giue  wil  lolas. 
But  what,  alas,  did  I  mean,  poore  foole  ?  Ldo  let  go  the  southwind 
Into  the  flowrs,  &  boares  send  forward  into  the  cleare  springs. 
Whom  flyest  thou  mad  man  ?  Many  gods  haue  also  resorted, 
And  Paris  of  olde  Troy,  to  the  woods.    Let  towers  by  Minerua 

Builtt 


283 

Built,  by  Minerua  be  kept ;  and  woods  of  vs  onely  regarded. 
Grim  lionesse  runneth  to  the  wolfe  &  woIfe  to  the  yong  gote, 
And  wanton  yong  gotc  to  the  flowring  tetrifol  hastneth, 
And  Corydon  to  Alexis:  a  selfe  ioy  draweth  on  each  man. 
But  see  the  plow  corns  home  hangd  fast  by  the  yoke  to  the  bullocks, 
And  shadoe  by  Phsebiis  declining  double  appeareth  : 
Yet  do  I  burne  with  loue :  for  what  nieane  can  be  to  louing? 
Ah  Corydon,  Corydon,  what  mad  rage  hath  thee  bewitched? 
Thy  vin's  scarse  lialfe  cut,  pestred  with  leanes  of  her  elm  tree, 
Leaue  this  churlish  boy,  and  bend  thy  selfe  to  thy  busnes. 
With  twigs  and  bulrush  some  needefuU  thing  be  a  making  : 
Thou  shall  find  others  though  th'  art  disdain'd  of  Alexis."  * 

J.  H. 


^  A  Cordial  for  a  sick  conscience.  Written  and  sent 
by  that  excellent  Divine Maister  Bezafrom  Geneva  to 
his  afflicted  country  men  in  France,  in  October  last. 
Containing  his  passion  and  remedy  in  the  agony  of 
death.  The  miserable  estate  of  France  in  Anno  1^72, 
lamented.  Certaine  diuine  meditations.  A  sonnet 
upon  the  present  misery  of  France.  Of  the  long 
patience  of  God,  least  noted  in  France.  And  his  con- 
clusion of  the  goodnesse  of  death.  Carefully  trans- 
lated into  English  by  H,  A.  Lo?idofi,  imprinted  bij 
lohn  Wolfe.  1593.  8vo.  34  leaves.     . 

Translator  and  translation  alike  unknown :  the  one 
not  registered  by  Ritson,  nor  the  other  seen  by  Herbert. 

By  Dedication  "  to  the  Worshipfull  my  singuler  good , 
friend,  M.  Frances  Brooke,  alias  little  gemlemati,  Maior  of  the 
borough  of  Abbington  in  the  Countie  of  Barke,  H.  Aires 
■wisheth  prosperity  in  this  life  and  euerlasting  felicity  in  th<; 
life  to  come.  This  my  atte~pt  (he  continues)  may  seem  more 
strange  to  you  then  his  that  taught  his  crowe  to  cry  aue  Coesc  r, 
did  to  the  Emperour,  but  since  the  indumentes  of  the  xiiiad  is 

•  This  translation  had  many  readers.  It  was  printed  by  Ch;u!- 
wood,  1588;  by  Oswin,  1591;  as  well  as  being  annexed  10  the 
Lawyer's  Logick.  Bib.  Poetica,  p.  211.  For  notices  of  the  author, 
see  (he  third  volume  of  Warton's  History  of  Poetry  :  Todd's  -V-r?;- 
cer^  Vol.  I.  p.  XV  &  xcviii.  and  Theatrum  Pcctaruia  Anglic an'-rnm.^ 
£d.  iSoQ,  p.  ^^&■ 

the 


284 

the  onely  treasure^  and  that  I  Hue  in  so  happy  an  age,  that  no 
exercise  is  aproued  too  hard  for  a  willing  mind, -let  thissatisfie 
the  woqder,  I  haue  with  cost  and  care  attained  to  the  vnder- 
standing  of  the  French,  and  by  practice  translated  these  fewe 

diuine  meditations  of  Beza The  reason  that  induceth,  nie 

to  dedicate  my  meane  labour  to  you  is  two  folde,  the  one  my 
naturall  affection  to  the  Borough,  wherein  I  was  borne,  the 
other  the  great  experience  of  your  good  affection  to  my  best 
friends  and  neerest  allies,  and  more  because  I  know  you  suf- 
ficient (be  it  modestly  spoken)  in  learning,  to  iudge :  in  wis- 
dome  to  defend :  &  in  curtesy  to  accept  my  good  will  as  much 
as  the  worke,  yet  wishing  it  had  hapned  in  a  time  of  your 
more  leasure,  when  the  waighty  affaires  of  your  place,  might 
not  haue  hindred  the  reperusing  againe  and  againe,  of  these 
rough  hcwen  verses,  which,  howsoeuer  they  are  set  downe. 
their  sense,  and  the  meaning  of  the  first  author  is  most  excel- 
lent  Your   Worship's  poore  countriraan,   and    humble 

friend  H.  Aires." 

Theaddress  "tolhe  reader"  informs  him  :  "the  author  is  that 
mostexcellentdiuineJM[asterBeza,whoin  theagonyof  his  soule 
bemoned  the  misery  of  his  country,  beginning  these  few  oads 
or  songes,  euen  presently  vpon  his  recouery  from  that  sicknes, 
which  he  well  hoped  should  haue  translated  him  to  a  better 
life.  If  thou  looke  for  wonders  heerein  thou  art  deceiued, 
nor  print  I  these  tragick  stasions  as  one  desirous  to  bee  knowen, 
nor  to  be  called  a  pamphletter :  but  at  the  ernest  entrety  of 
some  of  my  best  friends :  if  it  bee  vnpuUisht.  with  boystrous 
phrases  or  newe  coyned  termes,  blame  not  me,  for  I  was  tide 
to  my  author,  and  did  it  but  for  an  exercise,  and  it  was  well 
forward  towards  the  presse  before  I  once  dreamt  of  itj  but  if 
thou  esteeme  this,  when  in  reading  I  meet  with  matters  of 
greater  worth,  I  will  with  greater  care  acquaint  thee  with 
them,  let  him  that  likes  them  not  lay  them  by.  For  I  doubt 
it  not,  or  some  such  spirit  that  thinketh  to  grace  hirriselfe  by 
others  disgrace,  or  some  pedantecall  dark  will  grumble  out  his 
stoicall  opinion,  and  parhaps  barke  out  like  himselfe.  To  all 
such  J  resolutely  answere  that  I  do  as  is  my  pleasure,  and 
exercise  not  for  profit,  as  they  make  it  their  last  refuge,  in  that 
.1  print  it:  it  is  for  ray  friends,  therefore  J  leaue  them  to  perish 
in  their  malice,  and  content  my  selfe  with  this,  I  would  not 
willingly  offend  any;  &c." 

"  G.  H.  in  commendation  of  the  author,"  has  three 
stanzas;  then  "  the  greeuous,  yet  learned  complaint  of 
the  excellent  diviine  Master  Beza,  on  his  sick  bead,  euen 


38s 

in  the  agony  of  death."  In  this  he  bewails  the  miserable 
state  of  France,  which  forms  the  general  subject  of  all 
tlie  poems.  The  desponding  emigrant  of  these  eventful 
times  might  again  mourn  over  his  country  in  nearly  the 
same  language.    Thus  in  the  first  poem : 

"  Thou  garden  of  the  world. 

For  learning,  wealth  and  pride; 
Now  dronke  in  bloud  maist  slee,pe, 

Begert  on  euery  side. 
With  tyrants  who  ataints. 
Thee  with  the  bloud  of  saints. 

Ay  mee,  me  thinks  I  see. 

Thy  bewty,  in  times  past. 
Now  smear'd  with  cluttrered  blood: 

And  angry  heauens  ore  cast 
Doth  lower  to  see  thy  fall, 
And  scornes  to  heare  thee  call. 

The  children  of  thy  womb. 

Nursed  with  thine  owne  bloud. 
Now  reuels  in  thy  bowels. 

And  hates  to  ,do  thee  good : 
And  for  thy  gentle  words. 
They  wound  thee  with  theyr  swords. 

Thou  plaiest  the  pelican, 

And  they  the  vipers  part : 
For  them  thou  woundest  thyselfe: 

And  they  deuour  thy  hart. 
O  monstrous  tragidy. 
Full  of  impiety. 

In  teares  I  write  thy  mines. 

In  soule  I  morne  thy  fall : 
■In  praiers  I  wish  thee  well. 

When  on  my  God  I  call : 
And  so  sweet  France  adue. 
For  thine  estate  "I  rue. 

Farewell  my  .woefull  friends. 
You  shepheards  of  sick  flockes : 

Wee  silly  banished  men  may  waile, 
Vnto  the  eckoing  rockes: 

But  hee  that  sites  on  bye,. 

Will  one  day  heare  our  cry. . 

Perce 


zS6 

Perce  heauen  with  your  eies. 

And  on  faith's  siluer  winges. 
By  praiers  sore  the  skies. 

Where  sacred  angels  singes: 
And  you  at  last  shall  see, 
Elizium  liberty." 

The  next  poem  is  styled  "  the  anatomie  of  Franncc, 
written  in  the  yere  1 570,  by  occasion  of  the  blazing  star 
that  ther  appeared."  "  Another  song  of  the  peoples 
nione  and  churches  miserie,  written  in  the  yere  1592." 
Then  "  of  the  patience  of  God  euil  known  to  Fraunce," 
telling  that  country  in  some  uncertain  rhimes  : 

"  When  euery  nation  in  the  corapast  world 
Furrowed  the  seas  to  find  the  way  to  thee. 
Filling  their  sails  w'.  borowed  cheerful  winds, 
Rowsing  the  tire  amids  the  salt  sea  fo.me. 
Flocking  by  fleets  to  bring  tbee  gold  for  wine. 
Who  did  direct  them,  or  safe  broght  the"  hither. 
The  wind  and  sea,  no  God  did  guide  the"  thither. 
When  any  want  of  spice,  of  cloth,  or  coine. 
Thy  wombe,  O  France,  did  seeme  to  lay  apart. 
When  any  pleaslire  that  thy  harte  could  thinke 
Thou  longeHst  for,  and  didst  not  find  at  home. 
Hath  not  all  nations  brought  the""  home  to  thee. 
And  who  fulfil'd  thy  longings  &  thy  pleasure. 
Nations,  no  it  was  God  y'.  gaue  thee  treasure. 

What  Indian  gold  or  far  fetcht  rare  deuise. 
Had  not  his  pride  in  France,  in  highest  pomp. 
What  drug,  what  dainty  sweet  &  bolsom  good. 
Was  not  accounted  common  vnto  France, 
Pleasure,  helth^  plentie,  all  did  flow  in  France, 
And  whe~ce  came  these  thy  nourishme"ts  to  be. 
From  world  ^ud  ra&n ;  no  God  did  giue  it  thee. 

Thus  fro"  thy  fruits,  O  Fra"ce  y*.  grew  in  thee. 
The  Spaniard  broght  thee  spices  and  sweet  wines. 
The  Indian  brought  thee  gold,  y<.  Dutchma*  coin. 
The  Portugal  enriched  thee  with  wealth. 
Yea  fairest  England  clothed  thee  and  thine. 
And  all  the  world  seemed  to  wait  on  thee. 
This  God  hath  done,  8:  yet  thou  couldst  not  see." 

"  Of  the  goodnesse  of  death,"  and  "  the  excellencre 
of  a  Christian,"  conclude  the  poems,  which  have  a  con- 
tinuity 


387 

tinuity   of  subject  by  short  paragraphs  in  prose  at  the 
end  of  each. 

J.  H. 


51  A  Commemoration  or  Dirige  of  Bastarde  Edmonde 
Boner,  alias  Sanage,  vsurped  Bisihoppe  of  London. 
Compiled  by  Lemeke  yluale.  Episcopatum  eius  ac- 
cipiet  alter.  Anno  Domini  1569.  Imprinted  ly 
P.  0.  Oct.  2,2  leaves.  C  vj  in  eights. 

The,  character  -of  that  iron-hearted  oppressor  Bishop 
Bonner,  is  here  described  with  all  those  infamous  vices 
vulgarly  attached  to  bigotry  and  superstition.  A  logical 
inference  commences 

"  The  Preface.  Matters  beyng  yet  in  doubt,  maie  with 
questions  and  reasons,  bee  brought  out  of  doubt :  but  thinges 
beyng  without  doubt,  ought  not  with  the  subteltie  of  wordes, 
bee  broughte  into  doubte.  As  without  all  doubte  Edmonde 
Eoner,  late  vsurped  Bishop  of  London,  was  a  bastarde,  and 
also  the  soonne  of  a  bastarde  : ,  that  is  a  bastarde  in  grosse,  and 
a  bastarde  can  not,  neither  maie  not  bee  a  bishop.  JBoner  was 
a  bastarde,  ergo,  no  bishop,  and  this  is  a  true  conclusion.  This 
is  not  true,  said  an  old  diinsticall  felowe,  sittyng  at  the  table 
whth  a  graue  learned  lawier  of  the  common  lawe,  and  an  elo- 
quente  ciuilian." 

The  arguments  extend  the  preface  to  some  length; 
then  a  lamentation  in  quatrains  by  Bonner,  and  there  are 
nine  short  lessons  in  rhime,  in  which  scraps  from  the 
Roman  ritual,  8cc,  are  introduced.  The  following  ex- 
tract is  from  the  second  lesson, 

"  Oh  his  soule  was  weavie  here,  in  the  life  that  he  had, 
His  foode  was  breade  and  water,  his  lodgyng  was  to  baddes 
Clothed  in  hcere,  slepyng  againste  the  harde  stones. 
That  through  fastyng,  his  skinne  claue  to  the  bones, 
Watchyng  in  praier,  lamentyng  bothe  daie  and  night, 
Siibduyng  fleshlie  affect,  ionaiid  walked  in  the  spirite, 
Meeke  in  mynde  as  a  wolfe,  and  simple  as  a  foxe, 
As  chaste  as  the  he  goat,  as  slender  as  the  oxe : 
As  liberall  as  the  shebeare,  as  swe.te  as  the  brocke, 
Pf  all  kinde  of  linnen  clothe,  he  loued  well  a  smocfce.  ..." 

"  Responde. 


588 

"  Responde, 

"  Spefike  you  of  Boner? 
God  saue  his  honor. 
Some  saied  thei  heard  hym  saie. 
In  bedde  as  he  laie, 
N^oli  me' condemnare, 
Dum  veneris  iudicare. 
Ante  te  eruiesco, 
Comissa  mea  pauesco 

Qui  Lazarum  resuscitasti,  fro~  stinking  grant: 
Farewell,  farewell,  yon  popishe  k. 
Te  decet  deus  hymnus  in  Syon  : 
Boner  was  as  cruell  as  a  lion  : 
For  if  he  had  lined,  and  the  worlde  tourned, 
Many  a  good  man  he  would  haue  burned  : 
Per  igrnem  with  fire. 
That  was  his  desire." 

Concludes  with  the  fabricated  lineage  of  Bonner,  and 
a  prayer  to  the  Holy  Trinity.  J.  H. 


Tl  A  recantation  of  famous  Pa^quin  of  Rome.  An. 
1570.  Imprhited  at  London  ly  lohn  Daye.  Oct. 
15  leaves.     D  iij  in  fours. 

A  similar  article  with  the  last.  Back  of  the  title  brief 
notice  of  the  manner  of  affixing  placards  to  the  image  of 
Pasquin  at  Rome.     The  poem  commences  A  ij. 

"  I  Pasquin  long  haue  dwelt  in  -Rome, 

before  the  Pope  was  borne  : 
I  knew  y^.  time  whe"  tvias  a  shame, 

for  priestes  crownes  to  be  shorne. 
I  knew  also  when  not  a  frier 

in  Rome  could  be  espied  : 
Vntill  sixe  hundred  yeaiies  were  past — — 

Pasquin  afterwards  declares : 

— rather  then  I  will  be  burned, 

it  shall  so  come  to  passe : 
That  if  Pachecco  *  come  this  way 

i>e  iihalil  hcaie  me  at  masse. 

*  Pachecco,  is  the  great  inquisitor  of  Rome. 

And 


289 

And  for  no  srasill  foole  will  I  pray, 

but  for  some  man  of  honor. 
The  whieh  shall  be  as  great  a  man, 

as  euer  was  olde  Boner. 
Euen  for  him  will  I  go  say. 

The  masse  of  dayly  rest : 
For  thus  I  know  that  Boner  hath, 

made  many  man  bene  blest. 
For  God  made  him  a  minister, 

that  he  might  try  of  those. 
Who  were  elect  and  chosen  ones, 

and  who  then  were  God's  foes. 
Therfore  sure  I  will  go  forward, 

my  masse  now  for  to  say: 
There  shall  but  one  thing,  in  y^.  world, 

me  onely  cause  to  stay. 
And  that  is  this :  I  am  in  doubt, 

I  must  say  masse  alone : 
For  in  all  England  papistes  now, 

I  know  there  is  riot  one. 
And  yet  there  were  not  twelue  monethes  past, 

yea  thousandes  here  and  there ; 
But  if  a  man  will  seeke  them  now, 

he  shall  finde  them  no  where. 
For  since  these  rebells  late  did  rise, 

thus  doth  the  Papist  packe :  * 
To  get  the  cloth  of  some  stout  man 

to  put  vpon  his  backe 

But  as  for  me  I  beare  Ho  rule, 

but  dayly  will  I  pray. 
That  neuer  proude  olde  Popishe  priest, 

may  see  his  golden  day. 
Except  it  be  as  Boner  doth, 

which  lieth  deepe  vnder  grdssc  : 
For  whose  good  rest  I  will  in  hast, 

now  say  my  requiem  masse. 

In  troiio  ad  altare  dei 
Thinking  on  Boner  by  the  wei. 
Confiteor  deo,  and  to  our  good  Lady, 
Et  omnibus  Sanctis  quiapeccavi. 
In  homicide  arid  lechery. 
In  sacrilege  and  glotony, 

•  Papistes  to  maintayne  their  poperye,  weare  the  liueryes  of 
lordes,  genteline~  and  lawyers. 

VOL.  11.  V  And 


290 

And  in  all  kihde  6f  knauery. 

El  Iddio  precor  hedta  maria. 

That  thou  wilt  not  thiftke  I  euer  did  lla. 

Nor  that  gods  peoJ)le  I  caused  to  fria. 

Because  that  the  truth  they  seemed  to  trk. 

Mesereatur  veH'ri  let  the  Pope  haue. 

For  he  is  statrke  honest  take  away  tlie  kiiaue. 

He  vseth  many  times  to  forgeue  siniie. 

But  y.  more  ht  forgeueth  the  more  you  are  in. 

Ahsolutionem  &  remissiotte  omnum pectatoru  vestro- 

So  that  all  yoiir  life  still  be  in  reprohitm.  \ru, 

Otherwise  blessed  father  halh  nothing  to  do. 

For  he  himstelfe  wholy  is  indined  theruBto. 

Kiriekyson,  Gkristeckyson,  Kirieleyson,  Paternoster, 

For  olde  Sauage  bloady  Boner  the  butcner. 

Requiem  eternam  Lord  let  him  haue. 

For  he  was  a  great  man,  sage,  and  graue. 

Te  decet  himnus  in  Sion, 

Boner  playde  the  ramping  lion. 

Therefore,  sweet  Lady,  let  hitn  liaue  rest, 

Fof  he  was  a  man  ef  the  Pope  blest." 

This  writer, gives,  with  some  humour,  traits  of  the 
several  Cardinals,  but  the  alleged  erroreof  the  Catholic 
clergy  cannot  be  now  repeated.  The  Tiames  of  the 
friends  and  favourites  of  Bouner  are  strung  in  rhime ;  and 
be  is  said  to  ha\'«  HBaintained,  in  the  reign  of  Mary, 

"  A  wilde  roge  and  a  ruffeler, 
A  paylyardj'and  a  proud  pcdler, 
A  tame  roge  and  a  tynker, 
A  Abraham  man  and  a  frater, 
A  Jackman  and  a  patrico, 
A  whipiack  and  a  kitchinco, 
A  dell  and  a  antemorte, 
A  couniieffait  cranke  &  a  dor£tJe. 
A  demaunder  for  glymar, 
A  baudy  basket  and  a  domerar, 
A  kitchinmort  and  a  fresh  mariner." 

This  tract  bears  the  appearance  of  more  Tabour  in  the 
composition  than  the  preceding  one,  and,  after  "  finis, 
•juoth  Petrus  Pasqwinus,"  the  author  seems  $0  have  af- 
fixed his  initials,  «  R.  W." 

J.H. 

Jn 


Tl  Jj^  inforrnacion  and  Peficipn  ^gailmt^  ^h,?,  oppres- 
soMrs  q/  (ke  p.QXS  Comm<?,r^s  of  (his  j^^alipie,  compiled;^ 
and  Imprinted  Jbv  tkisi  ojjie\y,  purp,ose  ificii  qmongei^f 
them  that  haue  to  doe  in  the  Parlifimentei,  sovte 
godilye  mynded  nnen,  may  hereat  take  occachif.  to 
spea'ke  more  in  the  matter  then  the  Authoure  was  able 
to  ivrite.  Esqye  Ivin,  When  you  siiffre  none  op- 
pression tg  bee  a^ongeit  you,  and  leaueof  youre  idle 
ta,lke :  then  shal  ypni  cat  vpon  the  Lord  arid  he  s^ql 
l\eaxy.o,u^  yo^  shal  crie,  and  he  shal  say,  Behold! 
qrn  at  kan^-  ^-  d-  *  qr  printer's  iiame.  Sixteens.  i^ 
leaves. 

^  spirited  address  to  the  Lprds  an^  Commons,  from 
Roljprt  Crowley  t  ^^^^  pi'inA^'"?  against  both  clergy  arldj 
laity :  reqqiring  an  exapiipiition  and  relief  fqi:  the  popf 
from  tenths  and  ysury,  peculation  qf  lease-holders,  4n4 
other  matters  of  oppression.  As  the;  author  was  a,fter- 
wards  vicar  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate,  and  held  oth^r 
benefices,  it  may  be  hoped  he  acted  with  more  Christian 
charity  than  appears  in  the  following  relation,  which  il- 
lustrates the  manners  oi  the  clergy,  on  a  subject  noticed 
in  an  antecedent  article.  I 

^'  The  Cleargie  of  thp  Citjp  of  Lpndou^  haue  for  tlieyr  parte 

*  Aftpr  1 545,  prqbably  3l)p.\|t  1 547,  ap<i  ac^dressed  to  the  first 
parliament  3ssemble4  temp.  Edw.  VI. 

■f-  He  IS  noticed  as  a  preacher  in  the  Commemoration,  &c.  (^ante 
p.  187.)     In  the  ninth  lesson  Bonner  speaks  : 

f  One  niqrne  bstime  I  loked  forth, 

as  ofte  as  l  did  before  ; 
And  did  se  a  pulpit,  in  churches  wise, 

made  by  my  prison  dore. 
A  preacher  there  was,  th'at  Cranulf  hight, 

whiche  preached  in  that  place, 
A  meane  if  God  h^d  lovxed  me, 

to  call  me  then  Xo  grape. 
I^^(  si  'voce/u,  was  his  thei^ie, 

and  harden  not  thyiie  liarte': 
As  did  the  fathers  the  rebelles  old 

that  perished  in  desarte. 
Thus  protestantes  haue  me  slain 

with  the  power  of  the  Worde :''  6tc. 
X  Ante,  p.  269. 

u  2  optayned 


292 

optayned  by  Parliament  authoritie  to  ouer  tenthes  enen  after 
the^xem[ple]  of  the  landlordes  and  leasemongers,  and  raaye 
by  the  vettue  of  the  acta  requir  for  double  rentes,  double 
tenthes.     If  the  rent  of  any  kynde  of  housyng  or  grou'de 
■wythin  the  Citie  of  Lo'don  be  raised  (as  ther  is  indeede  verr 
much)  fro"  x'.  to  xx'.  than  may  the  persone  (whoe  had  before 
but  xvi''.  ob.)  by  the  vertu  of  this  act  d^raaunde  ii'.  ix"".  the 
double.     Bysydes  this  the  exactions  that  they  take  of  the  pore 
com"ons,  is  to  much  beyonde  al  reason  and  conscience.    No 
couple  can  be  maried,  but  these  me*  must  haue  a  dutie,  as  they 
cal  it.     No  woman  may  be  purified,  but  they  and  tbeyr  ydle 
ministers  must  haue  sorae  duties  of  hir.     None  c^  be  buried, 
but  they  wyl  haue  a  flyese.     Not  thre  monethes  before  y'.  be- 
ginnyng  of  ihis  prese"t  parliame'"t,  I  had  iust  occacion  to  be  at 
the  payme't  of  this  dutie  for  y=.  buriyng  of  an  honest  pore  man, 
whose  fre'des  wer  willyng  to  haue  hys  body  reuere"dly  layed  irv 
the  grounde,  and  accordyng  to  the  custome,  gaue  warnynge  to 
the  curate  that  they  wouldc  brynge  tlie  deade  body  to  the 
church;  desyryng  hym  that  he  wolde  do  hys  dutie  and  to  be 
ther  to  receye  ir,  and,  accbrdynge  to  the  custome,  to  laye  it  in 
the  grounde      But  this  rauen  smellynge  the  carion,  coulde  not 
but  reueile  it  to  the  other  carion  byrdes  of  the  same  church, 
and  so  wonlde  needes  come  all  together  in  a  llocke  to  fetch 
theyr  praye,  with  crosse  and  holy  water  as  they  were  wont  to 
do,  notwythstandynge  the  Kynges  Iniunctions  and  late  visila- 
cion.     The  frendes  of  the  deade  man  refused  all  this  and  re- 
quired to  haue  no  mor  but  the  commune  cofffen  to  put  the  bodye 
in,  agreynge  to  paye  to  the  keper  therof  hys  accustomed  dutie, 
and  inlyke  maner  to  the  grane  maker  and  the  foure  pore  men  to 
cary  the  bodye,  so  that  the  whole  charges  lad  ben  but  vii*. 
But  when  the  corps  was  buried,  wythe  out  other  crosse  or  holy 
water  sticke,  dirige,  or  masse,  with  prayers  of  as  small  deuo- 
tion,  as  any  pore  curate  could  saye,  yet  must  we  nedes  pay 
vii''.  more.    That  is  to  saye,  i"*.  to  the  curate,  which  he  called 
an  heade  pedye,  and  vi''.  to  ii  clarkes  that  we  had  no  nede  of. 
This  was  done  in  Sepulchres  paryshe  in  the  Citie  of  London. 
And  if  it  shall  please  any  of  this  noble  assemble  to  trye  the 
trueth  of  this,  I  will  verifie  it  where  so  euer  I  shall  be  called, 
cuen  in  the  presence  of  all  the  ydle  ministers  of  the  same 
cl'urch.     This  haue  I  written  (most  worthy  cou"saylours)  lo 
geue  you  occasion  to  set  suehe  an  ordre  in  this  and  suche  other 
tbynges,  that  eyther  we  may  bane  ministers  founde  vppon  the 
te~thes  that  we  pay  yerli  to  the  churches  :  other  els  that  it  may 
be  leafull  for  vs  to  do  such  ministeries  onr  selues,  and  not  to 
be  thus  co'strained  to  feede  a  sorte  of  carion  crowes,  whyrhe 

are, 


593 

Are  neuer  so '  mery  as  when  we  lament  the  losse  of  our 
frendes."  * 

J.  H. 


T[  The  confession  of  the  fayth  of  the  Sweserlades, 
Twelves.  15  leaves,  n.  d.  or  printer's  name. 

"  This  confescion  was  fyrste  wrytten  and  set  out  by  the 
ministers  of  the  churche  and  congregacion  of  Sweuerland, 

*  A  too  rigid  demand   of  the  burial  fees  raised  a  popular 
outcry  against  the  clergy.     It  is  also  noticed  in  another  tract  en- 
tituled :  A  supplication  ofthepoore  Commons.  Prouerbes  xxi.  Chapiter. 
Who  so  stoppeth  his  eare  at  the  criynge  of  tie  poore,  he  shall  crye  hym 
selfe  and  shall  not  be  beard.     W hereunto  is  added  the  Supplication  of 
Beggers.     Col.     j^«»o  M.  ccccc.  xlvi.    No  printer's  name.    i6nio. 
D  S.     The  writer  for  the  poor  Commons  describes  it  customary 
j"  to  se  me"  begge  for  such  dead  corpses  as  haue  nothinge  to  paye 
the  pristes  diuitie.     Yea  it  is  not  longe  sence  there  was  in  your 
Tiighnes^yfje  of  J.ondo"  a  dead  corps  brought  to  the  church  to  be 
buryed,  being  so  poore  that  it  was  naked,  wythout  any  cloth  to 
couer  it.     But  tljese  cliaritable  men  whiche  teache  vs,'  that  is  one 
of  the  workes  of  mercy  to  bury  the  dead,  woulde  not  take  the 
paynes  to  bury  the  dead  corps,  onlesse  they  had  theyr  dutye,  as 
•they  call  it.     In  fyne,  they  caused  the  dead  corps  to  be  caryed 
into  the  strete  agayne,  and  there  to  remayne  tyll  the  poore  people, 
■yirhych  dwelled  in  the  plape  where  the  poore  preature  dyed,  had 
begged  so  moch  as  the  pristes  call  fheyr  dwe.^     This  writer,  ad- 
dressing the  king,  tells  him  "a  numbre  is  there  oftheymthat 
vnder  the  name  of  your  chaplynes  jmay  dispend  yerly  by  bene, 
fices,  some  one  C  some  CC  some  CCCsoras  CCCC.  some  CCCCC. 
yea,  some  M.  maikes  and  more.     It  is  a  cpmone  saiyng  among  vs 
your  hyghnes  pore  comons  (he  continues)' that  one  of  your  high- 
nes  chapplene  not  many  yeres'  synce,  vsed  when  lieiu&ted  to  ride 
a  brode  forhys  repast,  to  cary  wyth  hym  a  scrowle,  wherin  wer 
written  the  names  of  the  parishes  wherof  he  w^s  parson.     As  it 
.fontuned,  in  hys  iourney  he  "aspied  a  churche  standyn^e  vpo^  a 
fayre  hyll  pleasauntly  beset  with  groues  and  playn  fejdes,  the 
goodly  grene  meadowes  liyng  beneth  by  the  banks  of  a  chrystaj- 
"iine  ryuer  garnished    with  willouse,  poplers,  palme  trees,  arid 
alders,  most  beautiful  to  behold.     This  vigilant  pascoure,  taken 
with  the  syghte  of  this  terestial  paradise,  sayd  vnto  a  seruau't  of 
his  (the  clerke  of  his  signet  no  doubt  it  was,  for  he  vsed  to  cary 
his  masters  ryng  in  his  mouth)  Robin,  sayd  be,  yonder  benefice 
Standeth  very  pleasantly.     I  would  it  were  myne.     The  seruaunt 
aunswered.  Why,   sir,  quoth  he,  it  is  your  owne  benefice,  and 
named  the  parish.     Is  it  so?   quoth  yourchaplen:  and  with  that 
he  pulled  but  his  scroule  to  se  for  certentie  whether  it  were  so  or 
not." 

u  3  where 


z^4 

■#!)ei-fe  aW^bdly^fes  ft  V?c'eyued,  and  tWe  w^Vde  teade  ib  te6m 
reuereuce,  and  from  thence  was  sent  vnto  the  £raperfeai% 
maiefstie,  then  holdynge  a  gryat  counsell  or  parliame't  in  the 

feare  of  our  Lord  God,   M.v.C,  xxxvii.  in   the  raoneth  of 
'ebriiary.  Translated  out  of  L'aten,  by"G'eorge"Vsher,  a  'Scotcli- 
pian,  who  was  burned  in  Scotland)  the  yeare  of  oure  Lordte 

M.v.'C.  xi  yi O'f  holy  matrimony.     We  jadgt  ftiiiilagfe, 

which  was  iristytvfte  o'f 'Gbd  for  i'll  meti  tpte  &  tafete  therfore, 
whiche  are  not  called  from  it  by  any  other vocatio, to  repugne 
"to  holynes  of  no  ordre,  the  whiche  mariage  as  'tne  churche 
'auctorisetb  it,  and  celebi-a'tes,  and  so'leinp'ntselii'  it  <vrtb  orlsoA 
and  prayer.  And  therfore  we  reiecte  and  refuse  this  monckely 
chastit'e  'and  all  hole  this  slouthful  arid  slouggislte  softfe  of  5'fe 
of  sdpers'ticious  'rtjen,  as  abomlnablye  inuenfed  and  excogJtSt 
thynge,  and  abandon  it  as  a  thiflge  repugnant  bothb  to  Idi^ 
comune  weale  and  to  the  churche.  And  so  confyrmeth  aria 
stablisshetb  it,  so  it  belageth  to  the  magistrate  to  se  that  it  be 
worthely  botbe  begbnne  and  worshypped  and  not  broken  but 

for  iust  cause It  was  our  pleasure  to  vse  these  wordes  at 

Hris  present  tyme  tha't  We  myght  declare  our  opinion  in  our  re- 
iigio'  and  worshyrieti^e  of  KJdd.  Finis.  Thte  ttuth  wyl  haue 
'the  vpper  ha'de." 


Tl  ^ewes  concer'nyfige  ike  generkl  cOuCell  holidn  at 
trydent  ly  the  Emperoure  and  the  Gerfridyhes  wyth 
(til  the  nobles  of  fiungarye,  Cojistanople  and  'Rome. 
Transldted  oiite  of  Germayne  into  Etiglysh  by  Ihon 
Holibush.  Anno  IK j^^.  Cum  priuilegio  ad  ifnpri-' 
mendum  Solum,    Sixteens.     Ten  leaves. 

This  tract  commences  at  bacfk  of  title,  as  an  epistle, 
though  unaddreSsed.  The  folloti'ing  is  tbe  •spee'cb  of  ihe  Em- 
peror to  the  Tui'kish  riiessengers  soliciting  peace.  •'  Though 
it  bccommeth  not  ourmaiestye,  to  make  any  appoyntme't  <vii!li 
the  enemy  of  our  religion",  nother  hath  y^.  godly  maiesty  euer 
left  vs  aydelesse  hetherto,  but  alway  prosperetb  &  helpeth  vs 
to  vanquysh  our  enemyes :  so'that  no  inan  ther  is,  whych  can 
auaunce  and  say  i  I  haue  ouercome  Charles  in  battayll.  For 
so  much  also  as  Alriiyghtye  God  hath  endued  vs  wyth  so  greate 
puyssande,  riches,  men  ofwarre  &  captaynes,  so  that  we  rieda 
not  to  be  3frayed  of  any  ma~  in  the  ivdrid:  yet  for  the  •te~der 

lone 


^95 

loHe  tliat  we  owe  to  onje  brotiier  Ifhe  kjngpf  tfie  IUJti}30es,  Ho** 
gary,  &  Bemes  we_  co"desce~de,  alow  &  rstify?  thp  truce  pf 
fyue  yeare;.  bm  vpo~  that  co'dieion,  y'.  tiig  Tjyltysh  Eraperouir 
do  sende  vs  hys  letters  &  specificacyo  concerning  tjiis  pe^pf, 
Wha"  tbe  Tvurkyshe  me^saungers  had  recea^ed  thys  coragioiis 
answere  of  the  empejiall  raaiestye,  they  are  returned  to  theyr 
liorde,  wjhich  contippntly  ppnte  ojoer  the  foresayde  |ettprs,  m 
the  whydie  }je  calleth  the  JEmpprours  ca^iesty  3  Lord  ofi^ip' 
CJjiistea  worlde.  These  letters  came  here  to  i^usborpiye  tjjc 
^xi  dyy  of  f^ouember,  wjjyche  J  biwe  both  hai|4eled  an4  sene. 
These  be  wrytten  wythg»e^tp  and  VAsepieJy  Jettsrs^sjid  on  tbe 
top  ,syg9fid  with  tljie  greal;  Tprfces  artnes  <jf  gQl4,  I  doujjte 
wjb,et)af;r  I  euer  haue  spene  any  ?j;ichje  lyte,  t^iey  be  notbei 
ClmUe  nor  Hebrue  letters,  f Jie  Lpr4  (Jerard  VfiJtwick  say^ 
tihey  bp  Arabyck  letters. . . , .  rarewpjl.  ^^ryisa  from  August 
tke^y^tdayepf Decerpiber.  fWyfii^rf  ojf ourLorde,  M.p.Xlviii, 
IWjpriinteid  at  Londo,  in  .Sijynt  A^aewesfJaryshie,  in  ^  ^str» 
4ii0ipt,  ijy  TJwMnas  jRayii^ide."  *  *    . 


^  A,  Xh&usaad  Mot&lle  things  af  sundry  i^teS' 
Wherof  some  are  wonderfull,  some  straun^,  somg 
pleasoJif,  dii^rs  iiei:£ssqry^  a  great  fior4  prpfilg^le  c/md 
mdv-y  very  preciMus. 

This  Boke  hewmyes,  that  s<ome  kai  rather  hide, 

which  whB  so  liuyes  their  money  fe  not  lost : 
For  mwny  n  tMng  therm,  if  Iruely  iride^ 

■mil  gmne  muck  more,  ike  IwemAy  such  wit  €&st^ 
And  diuers  else  great  secreteis  wiM  deteciy 

and  other  moeofrare^r  straitnge  effect^, 
il  is  not  made  to  please  some  one  degree, 

noj  no,  nor  yet  tp  bring  a^aine  to  Jew: 
For  each  therly,  how  ritch  orfpfirfi  they  lee, 

majy  reaps  muchgoo^,  &^  mischiefes  grmi  escAew. 
The  paines  and  traiiell  hethertoo  is  mine: 
the  gaine  and  pleMVr^  hevf/ejprdh  tojll  pje  t})Aue. 

Imprinted  at  London  iiy  John  'Charlswood,Jor  Hu^he 
Spooner,  Auuellingin  jUumliardstreeie,  iU  .tti£  sjgne  .of 
i'he  Oradk.  qto.  in.  d.  pp.  jca,  without  jatepdiiictiiaia. 

Dedicated  "  to  the  Right  Honourable,  vertuovis  and  affable 
Lady  Margaret,  Countesse  of  Darby,"  hoping  for  pardon  in 

u  4  the 


296 

fte  ifashness,  and  beseeching  her  "  to  haue  the  first  smell  of 
these  sweete,  pleasant,  straung,  beautifull  and  precious  flowers  5 
not  growing  in  one  garden,  but  in  sundry  soyles ;  not  quickly 
found,  but  long  a  gathering,  and  not  all  of  one  property,  but 
of  diuerse  quallities."  Subscribed  "  y^ur  Honorable'L.  most 
humble  to  coramaund,  Thomas  Lupton-"  * 

In  the  preface  of  the  author  to  the  reader,  he  declares  his 
book  to  contain  "  manye  notable  rare,  pleasaunt,  profitable 
and  precious  thinges  (meaning  one  with  another)  as  neuer 
were  yet  set  forth  in  anye  volume  in  our  vulgar  or  English 
tongue,  jiay,  diuers  of  them  were  neuer  be.therto  printed,  nor 
writteh  that  euer  I  knew ;  but  onely  that  I  writ  them  at  such 
tytiies  as  I  hearde  them  credibly  reported.  Thinking  them 
such  rare  thinges  as  was  worthy  to  be  registred.  Marry,  I 
must  confesse,  I  haue  selected  and  pycked  a  great  sorte  oute  of 
Latine  writers,  the  authors  or  wrytcrs  whereof,  I  haue  named 
most  commonly  at  the  end  of  the  same.  And  some  notable  and 
precious  thinges  I  gathered  out  of  some  old  Englishe  wrytten 
bookes,  and  some  also  not  long  since  printed,  vnworthy  to  be 
hyd,  and  great  pittie  but  they  should  be  knowne.  : ..  .1  haue 
deuided  this  into  ten  bookes,  euery  qne  wherof,  containes  a 
hundretb  of  the  intituled  Notable  thinges :  which  are  in  aU  a 
thousand." 

These  "  rare  things"  are  a  collection  of  receipts  of 
various  kinds,  many  of  them  medicinal,  intermingled 
with  short  stories,  and  somewhat  marvellous.  As  a 
sample  ten  will  characterize  the  thoiisand. 

"  There  is  many  do  the  thinges  in  their  sleepe,  that  they 
that,  be  awake  vse  to  do.  For  they  wyl  walke  about  the  house 
and  chamber,  and  wyll  go  to  other  folkes  beddes,  and  dare  dp 
any  thing  without  feare.  Whereof  there  are  many  daylye 
examples. .  But  one  among  all  the  rest  (which  was  credibly 
told  me)  y^as  maruelous  straunge,  and  almost  incredible. 
Which  was :  that  two  men  lying  in  bed  together,  the  one  of  them 
being  fast  a  sleepe,  tooke  the  keyes  and  unlocked  the  doores 
'and  the  gate  of  the  house,  and  sp  tooke  his  bowe  &  arrowes, 

*  If  Herbert's  index  is  correct  at  tliis  writer's  name,  the  present 
work  is  not  any  where  noticed,  though  there  was  more  than  one 
edition.  In  the  Monthly  Magazine  W  Nov.  1809,  p.  ^93,  is  a 
short  account  of  the  book,  stating  the' preface,  &c.  to  be' in  Ro- 
man  or  italic  characters':  in  the  subject  of  the  present  article  it  is 
in  black-letter,  ?nd  it  has  not  any  table  of  contents  as  theie men- 
tioned. ,  .... 

and 


^91 

and  went  to  a  wood  or  chase  aboue  a  niyle  from  thence-,  ani 
killed  a  bucke  or  a  doe,  and  then  dyd  couer  and  hyde  the 
s'ame  in  the  wood  :  and  then  came  home  againe  vnlocking  ai.d 
locking  the  gates  and  doores  againe,  and  layde  thekeyes  where 
he  had  them,  and  so  went  to  bed.  The  other  man  that  lay 
with  him  being  awake,  folowed  him  and  dyd  see  all  that  he 
dyd.  But  he  would  not  go  to  bed,  but  stayde  a  whyle  ia 
another  place,  to  see  the  ende  thereof.  And  assoone  as  the 
other  was  in  his  bedde,  he  tooke  his  dagger,  stabbing  and 
thrusting  therwith  in  the  bedde,  where  the  oiher  man  dyd  lye, 
and  by  and  by  after-awaking,  sayde :  alas  what  haue  I  done,  I 
haue  kylled  him.  The  other  answered,  nay,  I  am  not  kylled 
yet,  thankes  be  to  God.  Then  sayde  he :  for  I  was  a  dreamed 
that  r  kylled  a  bucke  in  such  a  place,  &  that  thou  dyd  see  me 
where  1  dyd  kyl  him, and  hyd  him :  and  thinking  thou  would 
bewray  me,  I  thought  to  kyll  thee.  But  I  am  glad,  sayde  he, 
that  it  was  but  a  dreame.  Then  tJie  other  sayde:  if  it  were  a 
dreame,  thy  dreame  is  then  true.  For  thou  hast  performed  all 
the  dreame:  except  the  kylling  of  me.  Which  he  would  not 
beleeue  vntyll  the  next  day :  when  he  that  laye  with  him, 
caryed  him  to  the  place  where  he  himselfe  tolde  that  he  dyd 
hyde  the  sayde  bucke.  Where  indeede  they  founde  the  bucke 
kylled,  ^s  he  before  tolde  in  his  dreame.  A  raaruelous  matter 
if  it  were  true. 

"  Many  haue  proued  that  a  saphire  lied  to  the  Attyer,  doth 
put  away  the  heat  in  an  ague.  And  the  same  stone  borne 
against  thy  hart,  doth  preserue  the  bearer  thereof  from  the 
plague,  and  from  venemous  thinges.  Easis,  et  Albertus.  And 
other. 

"  If  you  marke  where  your  right  foote  doth  stand  at  the 
fyrst  tyme  y^  you  do  hear  the  cuckoo :  and  tl\en  graue  or  take 
vp  the  earth  ynder  the  same,  whersoeuer  the  same  is  sprinckled 
about:  there  wyll  no  fleas  breede,  Plynle  by  Mizaldus  re- 
port. And  I  knowe  that  it  hath  bene  proued  true. 
•  "  The  eyes  of  young  swailowes  being  in  the  nest,  prickt 
with  an  needle  or  a  pynne,  &  so  made  blinde,  within  fowre  or 
fiue  dayes  after,  they  wyl  see  again.  Which  is  very  true,  for 
I  haue  proued  it.  But  howe  they  rrcouer  their  syght  1  knowe 
not :  but  dyuers  wryte,  if  their  eyes  be  hurt,  the  oide  swailowes 
restores  their  sight  againe  with  the  iuyce  of  Celendin. 

"  In  the  common  place  where  the  censors  of  Venys  syttes, 
there  neuer  enters  any  flyes.  Gandeur.  Merula.  And  in  the 
fleshe  shamble  of  Toledo,  a  cittie  in  Spayne,  is  not  seene  but 
one  ilye  in  all  the  whole  yeare.  As  LeoPaptist  saycth.  And 
in  Westnjiustfr  HalJ,  in  the  tymber  worke  there,  is  jiot  to  bee 

founde 


fbimde  one  spyder,  nor  a  spyder  webbe.  Because  (as  it  is, 
thought)  the  tymber  wherewith  the  rooffe  is  buylded,  was 
brought  out  of  Ireknde.  and  dyd  growe  there.  In  all  which 
eountrey  of  Irelandcj  I  haue  not  onely  hearde  it  credibly  toldcj, 
that'  there  is  neyther  spyder,  tode,  nor  any  other  venemou* 
thing  :  but  also  that  some  of  tlie  earth  of  that  eountrey  hath, 
bene  brought  hether,  wheron  a  tode  being  layd,  she  hath  dyed, 
presently.    Though  this  be  maruelous  &  straoge,  yet  it  is  true.. 

"  A  certaine  wench  was  borne  within  sixteen  m')les  of  Lon-, 
don,  who  within  a  yeare  and  a  halfe  after  her  byrth,  dyd  begyn 
Vo  eate  earth,  .Stones,  brdcke,  and  graaell.  And  so  continued 
therin,  <hauing  all  her  delyght  in  eating  of  such  baggage:) 
also  she  dyd  eate  the  woollen  sleeues  that  were  on  her  armes., 
besydes  that  she  dyd  eat  a  gloue.  And  on  a  tynw  as  her  mother 
^yd  feede  her  with  mylke,  there  chaunst  to  faiU  a  great  peece 
of  soote  out  of  the  chy  mney,  into  the  6ay<l  mylke :  V'hioh  soote;, 
the  sayd  chyld  tooke  out  of  y*^.  dysh  with  her  fyngers,  and  dyd. 
eate  it  most  greedily.  She  abliorred  then  bread  &  butter,  and 
other  such  natural  food.  Wherby  slie  was  maruelously  con- 
SLwned  with  a  fluxe,  and  she  y«t  lyueth,  hauing  nothing  on  her 
but  skyn  and  bone.  I  ,sawe  her  in  June,  IS77.  She  was 
boTne  ill  Chayrsey,  within  two  or  thre  myles  erf  Statres^  at 
•which  tyme  she  was  full  three  yeares  of  age. 

"  A  tode  being  strucken  of  a  spyder,  or  of  a  serpe't,  6oih 
helpe  herseife  by  eating  of  plant«H.  Plinius.  For  confyrnaa- 
tion  whf  r-eof,  a  todie  being  o-n  the  ground  hard  by  a  waU,,a 
apyder  dyd  suddenly  strike  the  sayde  tode  on  the  backe :  which 
'whtn  the  tode  fek,  begynning  to  swell,  dyd  «at  of  planten  nye 
viito  the  place.  Wherof  being  well,  the  spyder  againe,  dyd, 
poyson  Che  tode,  with  her  veuome  as  before,  which  done,  the 
tode  preserued  her  selfe  with  the  sayde  planten  as  before.  But 
tone  that  chaunst  to  beholde  the  same,  dyd  then  cutte  vp  the 
sayde  planten,  and  toote  it  away  from  that  place.  Which  tode 
the  thyrde  tyme  being  stracken,  or  rather  poysoued  of  the 
spyder,  as  before  :  inimediatly  searching  for  the  sayde .pla-nten, 
(for  as  it  shoulde  seeme  there  was  no  more  planten  nye  to  that 
place:)  which  when  she  coulde  not  fynde,  dyd  swell  so  sore, 
that  spone  after  ^he  dyd  burst  withall.  The  party  that  dyd 
take  away  the  same  planten,  and  dyd  see  thisstraunge  &  tnar- 
ualous  matter,  dyd  tell  me  this  for  a  verye  trueth.  Whosp 
credyte  I  fcnewe  to  be  such,  that  I  am  bolde  here  to  place  the 
same  hauing  such  good  occasion.  And  1  hearde  that  a  noble 
jnan  of  this  realme  dyd  see  the  lyke. 

"  Wryte  vVhat  you  wyl,  on  fayre  whyte  paper,  with -the 
4uyce  of 'a  redUc  onion,,  well  myxed  and  tempered  with  tlie 

wliyte 


299 

whylfe'o'f  an.B^S,  Miircli  being  drre,  wyjf  g^peafe  as  Ihoiagli 
it  weife  finely  phynfe  papfer,  wit-liouta'n.y  Svrydng.  BiUifyoa 
holde  it  against  the  fyrCj  you  maye  then  easilye  reade  it,  or 
perceyue  the  letters. 

"  Whdsdeu'er  'shall,  especiall'y,  the  f^rtt -Prydafe  ih'lViay, 
and  eufery  ofher  Fiydaye  iliMAy,  tefoVe  the  rising  of  thfe  su'rtnfe, 
jg^aCi'e  'vp'tv(''o  turfes  of  new  gro*ne  gVasSe  with  th'e  d^"*  vpoii 
the  saftie,  &  then  &cA  \y6  th'e  gtasS'e  sydtes  of  tlverti  tog'etlier, 
ah(l  shall  ttien  laye  t'h"fe  sAW6  in  a  wateV  itt  the  sydt;X)f  a  ponds, 
'or  in  scfti'e  othfer  water,  sotha't  \\i6  ^eheniencie  d'f  t'lve  'A'attei: 
ddbt^  not  r'eiTi'ou'e  the  sayde  nirfe  "fVorti  llie  plate  w4ieVe  'th6y 
"be  layde,  &  so  let'tihg  tli'ert  \yt  tbe're  vnt^ittoufed  nyne  Or  fehllte 
'clay'es  :  jf  at  the  ten  dayes  efldd,  he  shall  taice  vp  thfe  saydfe 
Vurfe's,  and  vn'tye  or  loose  y".  satWe,  he  shal  ifinde  a  grieat  soft 
of  young  efeles  within  the  same,  'alftotigl:!  thete  be  n6t  otJe  eele 
in  y«.  same  water  A't  the  l&ying  t'here,  of  the  sayde  turfes. 
And  then  if  he  tye  tile  S^f'&t  tnrfes  Wi'th  the  yOung  'eelefe 
toget'her  agaihe,  &  lay  them  agalne  in  the  same  SVatel-,  a  '^reSt 
eh'cfease  of  teles  'Jvyl  after  come  therof.  This  Wa^  cfedibiy 
tpTde  me  'fer  a  very  tVueth,  of  6ttfe  that'dyd  try  the  sanite.  I 
'tliirike  tliey  breede  "of  the  saWe  cle'«r. 

"  A  parfrych  wyll  crye  alowde,  and  wHl  teai-'e  or  brteflfce 
'the  cage  or  'coope  where  she  is  fedde,  iTtherfibe  any  cteadly 
rtiedcyn 'or  poysori  prepared 'withi'n 'the  same  house,  whic^h  sheft 
flboth  'feele  ■presen'tl)'e,  and  also  ha'rh  knowledge  thereof, 
'thrdagh  a  ■^donderfiill  s'pec'iii'U  and  rare  gift  of  nature.  At'tStfs 
ex  pisohe.'' 

J.  H. 


*)  A 'Forest pf  Varieties.  First  part.  Kon  aliena.  nrgo 
pfessi  peie.  London,  printed  by  Ricltard  'Co't'es. 
1645.  t'oHo.  pp.  S43. 

Copious  extracts  from  tliese  miscellanies  of  Dudley, 
third  -Lord  Nort'h,  have  appeared  in  Sir  Kgerton  iBrydges's 
Memoirs  of  the  ■English  Peerage,  and  some  further  ac^ 
'coun't  of  the  volume  was  inserted  by  Mr.  Park  in  tlx' 
Boyal  and  Nchie  Authors.  In  addition  to  these  n0tic<rs, 
the  present  Cdpv  establishes  an  earHer  appearance  of  the 
ivorfe  than  hitherto  supposed.  -A  fly  leaf  has  the  kiWam- 
jng  manpscript  'po'te;   "  This  booke  was  written   by  y=. 

Lord 


gocy 

Lord  Northe,  &  giuen  my  [me]  by  himselfe,  li"' June, 
1645."  The  prefatory  introduction  is  unentitled,  and 
contains  the  author's  account  of  his  own  work. 

"  My  Friend;  for  so  you  arcj  or  at  least  I  intend  you;  bee 
favourable  to  these  my  innocent  lines  which  meane  nothing 
but  )'our  good :  they  meet  with  an  unfriendly  time,  and  though 
my  selfe  have  kept  them  these  late  yeaies  of  our  troubles,  like 
a  candle  under  a  bushel,  without  so  much  as  casting  my  owr.e 
eye  iiipon  them;  I  feare  you  will  admit  others,  perhaps,  neither 
friends  to  you  nor  me;  which  if  against  my  will  you  do,  I 
have  yet  taught  them  to  say  something  for  themselves,  and 
here  and  there  they  will  return  a  tooth ;  they  were  designed, 
as  they  tell  you,  to  a  domestique  confinement,  impatient  of 
pubiique  view,  and  still  of  shopman  and  residence;  whosoever 
censures,  shall  not  be  entituled  to  it  as  at  pubiique  stage- 
playes,  for  his  money,  whereupon  I  hope  he  will  bee  the  more 
modest  and  indulgent :  but  now  meeting  with  this  plundering 
age,  if  they  venture  not  to  undergoe  the  presse,  they  are  ob- 
noxious to  a  sodain  destruction ;  nor  are  their  master  and 
themselves  so  free  from  the  connaturall  epidemicall  disease  of 
.vanity,  as  easily  to  consent  the  annihilation  of  so  many  houres 
productions,  especially  seeing  diverse  of  the  graver  sort  of 
spirits  have  long  since  advised  the  publication  even  of  their 
mostlight  and  airy  parts  :  nor  doe  I  remember  that  ever  I  knew 
a  parent  of  a  deforiiied  child  lesse  carefuU  of  its  preservation 
then  of  the  most  beautlfull :  St.  Paul  made  himselfe  every 
thing  to  every  body  to  win  some;  the  very  praeludes  and  anti- 
past  of  these  may  happily  lead  to  good  and  wholesome  nou. 
rishment,  such  is  my  wish. 

"  Since  the  birth  of  these  pieces,  the  world  I  suppose  hath 
neverexperiencedsogreata  liberty  and  prostitution  of  the  presse, 
"to  me,  there  was  never  lesse  of  writing,  I  have  laboured  with 
strong  griefs  and  cares,  and  yet  they  found  at  Jast  a  tongue; 
the  dircfull  extremities  and  convulsions  which  my  unhappy 
country,  and  my  self  in  it  have  suffered  these  last  yeeres  make 
good  with  me  the  saying  of  Ingentes  curie  stupent :  partiality 
■found  much,  ingenuity  little  freedom  :  the  first  surprize  was 
such  as  caryed  me  to  an  affectation  of  dissolution  rather  then 
to  endure  the  spectatorsbip  of  the  growing  miseries  &  ap- 
proaching tragedies;  nay,  spectatorsbip  was  not  allowed, 
embarque  you  must,  and  in  a  manner  embarqued  already  was 
I  by  my  naturaU  condition;  totall  retirednes  had  been  my  for- 
mer course  and  resolution ;  now  forced  from  it,  what  had  I  to 
do,  but  according  to  my  acquired  habit  of  mind,  steere  my 
course  as  I  conceived  my  relations  in  fairest  duly,  affection, 

honesty 


30I 

hoiiesty  and  reason  to  tequire?  this,  casting  off  my  self,  &  all 
private  interest  and  consideration  I  did:  the  learned  sophisti- 
cal spirits  of  another  not  of  so  fair  a  mind  cast  out  such  mists 
from  the  *  Morasses,  wheiein  they  had  formerly  engaged  us, 
as  troubled  both  mine,  and  the  generall  digestion  of  otherwise 
no  weakly  disposed  constitutions ;  this  lay  long  heavy  upon 
me,  til  at  length  that  good  God  who  hath  ever  miraculously 
assisted  me  in  ray  greatest  distresses,  dispersed  my  clouds,  com- 
manded &  necessitated  me  to  perish  rather  in  doing  my  duty 
to  himself,  my  King,  &  country,  then  so  poorly  as  I  had  aban- 
doned my  selfe  in  contracting  and  yeelding  to  a  growing ■j-  in-, 
firmity  and  ruine.     His  inspiration  1  obeyed,  and  hee  hath  so 
blessed  me,  that  in  despight  of  uAexpressibie  disorders  of  body 
and  mind,  as  I  have  conquered  all  feares  and  appreheiision  of  ' 
whatever  consequences,  so  doe  I  in  my  station  and  daily  duty 
surmount  my  not  only  late  but  ancient  infirmity  ;  I  wrap  my 
selfe  in  my  honest  resolves,  steering  for  the  best,  untroubledly 
prepared  for  the  worst.     But  I  am  fain  amongst  the  Noli  me 
tangere's.     And  now  again  for  a  spirt  to  my  book :  poore 
book  of  a  most  unhappy  author,  what  fate,  what  genius  canst 
thou  expect  to  make  thee  happier  than  thy  master  ?  Yet  thus 
far  I  will  encourage  thee,  that  from  the  fairest,  from  the  best 
constituted,  he  hath  generally  reaped  fauorable  opinion ;  for 
others,  respect  them  as  little  as  he,  seek  thy  happines  within 
thy  self,  and  not  abroad,  they  will  have  their  sayings,  but  thy 
good  constitution  will  beare  thee  out  against  malignant  blasts; 
wander  the  least  thou  canst,  kepe  close  to  thy  friends,  &  tell 
them  that  the  many  abruptions  and  et  catpaes  of  thy  most 
serious,  sad,  and  devout  pieces  of  prose  were  occasioned, by 
diverse  expungings  of  matter  intended  only  for  a  son,  or  a  de- 
scendant. 

"  We  are  now  in  an  extraordinary  early,  faire  promising, 
and  comfortable  spring,  and  by  God's  grace  upon  a  treaty  for 
peace:  may  the  King  be  happy  in  good  counsel,  and  beleeving 
wel  of  such  as  seek  nothing  more  then  his,  and  his  peoples 
happinesse ;  this  is  our  crisis  of  emerging,  or  utter  ruine ;  Paii 
gasle  vault  mieux  que  pais  perdu.  Benedicat  Deus. 
Febr.  the  loth,    1644.."  I 

*  Or  mud  of  their  own  breeding.     Mar. 

f  "  And  inevitable''  follows  here,  but  erased  with  a  pen.  The 
copy  has  many  similar  corrections. 

X  Instead  of  the  above  Mr.  Park  notices  that  "  a  dedication  to 
the' Queen  of  Bohemia,  bears  date  July  ji,  1645,  superseded  in 
the  second  edition,  by  a  quaint  address  to  the  author's  Alma 
mater,  Cantabrigia."     Royal  and  Noble  Authors,  Fol.  III.  p.  84. 

Part 


3°^ 

Part  I.  has  a  Preluiium  addressed,  as  appears  by  th* 
text,  to  a  niece  of  Sir  PhiHp  Sydney.  Part  li.  Exonera- 
tions ;  has  a  short  prose  advertisement,  unentitled,  dated 
March  15,  1637.  Part  III.  is  npt  distinguished  by  fur- 
ther title;  the  first  page  inscribed  "This  still  let  me 
preface  to  the  faire  Pbilosophicall  Inclination.''^— Near 
the  end  of  the  first  part  are  "  Suddaine  Touches  in  the 
nature  of  Characters,  written  about  the  yeare  16^5," 
One  may  be  selected,  itpon  a  subject  that  employed  tjif 
attention  of  various  writers  after  (he  appearance  of  Eliot's 
Governor,  and  will  shew  in  what  colours  a  noble  author 
would  draw  an  outline  of  a  younger  branch  of  his  own 
family. 

"  A  Gentleman 

"  Both  by  descent  and  quality  stands  ever  bound  to  his 
good  behaviour,  outwardly  in  a  faire,  civill,  courteous,  well 
Ordered  fashion,  and  inwardly  in  piety,  charity,  justice,  courage, 
truth,  temperance,  and  those  other  vertues  which  the  schools 
teach ;  for  if  outwardly  he  be  incomposed  in  his  carriage  and 
civill  respect,  he  will  appeare  to  men  that  understand  good 
fashion  as  full  of  solecism,  and  more  absurd  then  the  arrentest 
clown  before  a  petty  justice  of  peace  j  and  therefore  he  will 
make  it  a  businesse,  so  much  to  frequent  companies  of  the 
test  respect,  and  to  season  himselfe  with  their  fashions,  as  that 
thereby  he  may  avoid  in  the  least  sort  to  become  ridiculous, 
especially  prima  facie.  As  for  those  inward  seasonings  which 
are  to  this,  as  the  substance  to  the  colour,  bee  will  omit  no 
occasion  to  giveproofe  thereof,  as  fearing  to  belie  his  parentage 
and  title,  and  to  prove  himselfe  a  wolfe  and  vermin  in  the  eyes 
of  good  men,  who  ought  to  have  doubled  his  lustre  by  worth 
and  goodnesse.  Hee  will  therefore  be  a  strict  examiner  of 
himselfe,  and  least  indulgent  to  his  owne  errors.  Hee  will 
make  truth  his  guide,  for  lies  are  but  the  bolts  of  fooles  that 
fall  on  their  owne  heads,  and  moderation  his  governour,  for  if 
is  the  basis  of  air  vertues.  Hee  will  avoid  occasions  of  expence 
andquarrell;  but  being  ingagcd  to  them,  he  will  carry  him- 
.selfe  nobly,  and  come  oft'vvith  hqnpiir;  for  to  be  cast  behinde 
Jiand  in  fame  or  fortune,  is  much  more  difficult  tq  recover  then 
to  prevent.  His  gifis  shall  be  according  to  reason,  not  in  ex-: 
cesse,  yet  inclining  rather  to  the  mp^t,  for  else  they  Ipse  tljeir 
good  acceptance ;  but  being  excessive  he  Ipseih  his  thanks,  as 
sceiijing  to  give  what  he  esteemeth  (iqt,  3pd  tainteth  {I'js  iudgcr 

jiient 


3°3 

"inent  in  not  understanding  proportion.    When  he  falleth  to 
game,  let  him  not  think  it  only  an  idle  pastinae ;  for  to  a  good 
observer  it  is  one  of  the  most  perspicuous  discoverers  of  our  in- 
ward disposition  and  affection.  Hee  will  mingle  pleasure  witii 
-profit,  but  will  make  recreation  his  servant,  not  his  master. 
Honour  and  vertue  shall  bee  his  chief  ainie,  nor  will  he  draw 
a  note  upon  hitnselfe  for  any  thing  but  tending  thpreunto.  He 
will  by  his  curiesie  make  continuall  purchase  of  aifection,  hut 
especially  in  his  owne  house  where  he  can  hardly  over-act  it. 
Yet  towards  men  of  insolent  demand  and  carriage  it  were  but 
unmannerly  to  imploy  it.     Civility  is  an  important  piece  of 
society,  especially   amongst  the  better  sort,  and   like  other 
qualities,  it  is  to  be  exercised  with  great  discretion,  and  good 
temper.  High  and  braving  spirits  unseasoned  therewith,  would 
like  cocks  and  mastiffes,  impatient  of  the  fierceBosse  of  one 
anothers  eyes,  uncollected  and  unrecallad,  assault  tach  othpr 
with  blowes  instead  of  salutes.     There  have  been  divers  books 
written  of  the  institution  of  a  prince,  ofa  courtier,  of  several! 
ri<diculouB  and  tedious  kinds  of  complements,  which  some  use 
as  saddles  to  all  horses,  tyrannous  oppressions  to  solid  dispo-- 
sitions,  and  such  a«  abound  therein  get  nothing  but  the  pur- 
cha.s«s  of  lyers,  which  is  not  to  bee  credited  when  they  speakp 
truth;  whereas  an  old  (kshioned  free-hearted  werd  or  two  to 
tfee  purpose  are  ever  more  significant  and  effectual!.     There 
hath  also  been  some  treatises  framed  to  frame  a  good  ambassa- 
^our;  but  a<me  that  I  kaowbave  descended  to  tlie  formaM  and 
now  msorall  part  of  -civiil  and  respective  demeai^or  in  givitJg 
and  returning  visits,  receptions,  and  oonvoyes,  givifflg  place  at 
home,  and  at  the  table,  and  suchlike;  some  retired  ambassadotir 
or  secretary  might  well  perfofme  such  a  taske.     Hee  will  af- 
.    fisct  more  to  hear«  (then  to  speake,  but  when  hee  unfoldeth 
himselfie,  h<3e  will  consider  what,  .and  to  whbip,  ajjd  euer  con- 
taine  hinjselfc  within  the  boiindsof  his  knowledge  and  truth; 
otherwise  liee  shall  be  a  loser  by  ooe  of  his  best  blessings,  his 
language.     Hee  vvill  not  shew  that  brutish  sensi^aljtie  to  carry 
his  mind  in  hh  belly,  nor  his  soule  upon  his  backe,  much  lesse 
let  it  transmigrate  into  a  borse  or  dogge.     Eookes  and  women 
hee  will  use  witli  discretion  and  moderation,  lest  ihey  devoure 
and  confound  him,  nor  shall  liipe  make  right  use  of  eithrrwho 
beareth  Bot  hiniMilfe  above  them ;  xill  these  are  to  be*?-  used  tor 
life,  and  not  as  if  wee  lived  onely  for  tbem.     Hee  will  edu- 
cate his  Sonne  to  be  like  hirtiselfe,  and  not  infuse  grammar  and 
^ilesopfoje  int-o  laim  in  such  sort  as  if  -not'hiag  eise  eoBGErned 
him  and  his  well-bdwg.     And-t&eKe&pe  h^e  will  bring  him  up 
Kp  ttie  inae  aadsvgtaaiws  of  koBPW  and  -true  /^Hf^w,,  .and 

make 


304 

make  him  no  stranger  to  the  managing  of  a  house  and  fortuns 
.which  as  much  iraporteth  hina;  and  the  strangeriesse  whereof 
t5  young  mindes  wholl}'  ingaged  to  other  studies  and  delights, 
is  one  of  the  greatest  causes  of  so  many  ruins  to  private  for- 
tunes.    What  is  most  comely  and  right  shall  bee  his  study, 
and  to  discerne  of  triith  and  right  requires  fulnesse  as  wel  of 
acquisite  as  naturail   furniture.     Judgement  of  comeiinesse 
comes  the  more  easily  upon  common  observation.     That  be- 
comes us  best  which  is  most  our  owne,  most  proper  and  pro- 
portionable to  the  circumstances  of  our  fortune  and  condition. 
It  is  over  incident  to  many  to  trouble  themselves,  incurre 'con- 
tempt, and  ruine  their  estates  by  an  erroneous  affectation  of 
greater  expense,  curiositie,  and  bravery,  then  would  bee  ex- 
pected from  them ;  such  breed  and  feed  the  canker  that  con- 
sumes them.   What  is  observed  and  approved  by  the  best,  most 
sober,  andjudtcious,  and  neither  to  leade  nor  contemne  to  fol- 
low the  fashion  is  the  best  rule  :  to  be  outwardly  too  different 
is  monstrous,  to  be  affected  and  curious,  light  and  ridiculous. 
But  I  have  past  my  hower  and  will  not  exceede,  nor  intend  I 
cither  to  write  all  or  any  thing  formally  or  fully  in  this  sub- 
jett;  orif  I  did  know  it  were  but  lost  labour,  for  nature  and 
preoccupate  affection  so  possesse  us  that  impressions  may  be 
renewed  and  confirmed, but  hardly  first  wrought  upon  the  mind 
bythepeUjespecially  withoutpredispositipn  of  naturail  parts,  as- 
siduity of  meditation,  and  iteration,  if  not  also  the  addition  of 
frequent  and  authorized  example.     In  effect  much  pen-labour 
might  bee  spared,  at  least  in  matters  of  moralitie,  for  the  best 
natures  and  judgements  with  experience  need  it  not,  and  th« 
worst  are  incorrigible. 

Observe  and  practise  this  confused  heap. 
And  you  may  chance  no  small  advantage  reap: 
Nothing  more  faireiy  then  discretion  growes. 
Yet  wit  not  ever  clad  in  beautie  goes  : 
Some  say  that  nature  doth  the  mind  neglect. 
Whilst  shee  the  body  doth  too  much  affect; 
'Tis  best  I  grant,  when  both  an-  richly  joyn'd  j 
But  if  you  love  your  seifejove  best  the  mind. 
If  you  this  inventory  rude  despise, 
You  may,  I  doubt,  more  curious  prove  then  wise. 


"  A  Supplement  to  the  Gentleman  at  such  time  as  hee 
was  out  of  my  hands. 

"  Hee  will  practise  frusjalitie  not  so  much  out  of  a  base  af- 
fection to  the  love  of  money,  as  out  of  a  generall  election 

which 


30S 

wliich  hee  hath  made  lo  all  things  to  order  himselfe  by  that 
which  is  the  best,  most  comely  and  reasonable;  whereunto 
hee  will  subject  all  his  affections,  and  thereby  avoyd  the  in- 
gageing  himselle  apon  a  present  heate  and  humour  to  infinite 
inconveniences  and  repentance,  which  hee  might  incurre  (as 
men  daily  doe)  by  rejecting  a  due  regard  to  the  distant  future, 
and  the  true  use  of  that  discourse  and  reason  which  God  hath 
given  him,  wherewith  to  governe  his  actions  and  resolutions, 
and  which  ditferenceth  him  from  the  beasts  of  the  fields. 
Nay,  it  is  ordinarily  scene,  that  even  the  brute  beasts  them- 
selves ill  their  courses  doe  lesse  digrssse  from  such  reason  as 
concerneth  them,  then  many  an  inordinate  and  wilfuJl  man. 
His  course  and  demeanour  shall  bee  euer  constant,  equable> 
and  correspondent  to  his  fairest  ends  and  pretences,  as  flowing 
from  the  same  fountaine,  all  of  a  tenure,  all  ot  a  peece,  avoyd- 
ing  that  just  reprehension  which  falls  often  upon  none  of  the 
least  eminent,  of  being  one  in  publick,  other  in  private:  now 
brave  and  generous,  and  presently  unworthy  and  sordid;  un- 
weaving their  owne  web,  and  unadvisedly  clothing  themselves 
in  such  motley  as  they  would  .otherwise  disdaine  to  put  on. 
Hee  will  not  bee  a  libertine  in  his  jests  towards  -men,  much 
lesse  towards  God,  and  therefore  will  kill  such  itch  in  his 
tongue  as  most  odious  in  religion,  and  most  pernicious  to  him- 
selfe and  others.  All  discoveries  of  an  affected  humour  detract 
from  him  in  the  censure  of  the  most  judicious.  Wherefore 
hee  will  decline  them,  especially  in  his  cloathing,  for  it  argues 
too  great  levitie  to  bee  imployed  therein,  and  too  poore  a  diffi- 
dence of  his  proper  worth  to  seekeesteeme  and  valuation  from 
it.  I  will  little  esteeme  the  respect  of  man  or  woman  who 
shall  respect  outward  more  then  inward  bravery,  or  rich  ap- 
parell  more  then  a  rich  mind,  though  both  doe  well  with 
women,  the  best  of  them  are  not  carried  with  showes.  He 
will  not  easily  upon  argument  enter  into  passi^on,  which  but 
argues  his  owne  doubt  and  weakenesse,  for  a  cleaie  undentand- 
ing  will  pitie  or  endeavour  to  rectifie,  but  not  bee  troubled  at 
others  ignorance;  and  calmenesse  maintained  with  a  friend  is 
better  then  to  prevaile  in  the  cavills  of  dispute.  He  will 
examine  his  owne  &ufHciencie  and  goodoe^.se  by  the  best 
authors,  and  the  wisest  and  bestmen,  and  approve  of  himselfe 
onely  so  farre  as  hee  proveth  conformable  unto  them , and  find- 
ing himselfe  fit  to  doe  service  to  God,  his  king  of  country,  hee 
will  put  off  all  restinesse  and  sloath,  and  set  himselfe  forward 
to  the  imploymejit  of  his  best' Industrie  and  abilities  for  the 
common  good,  }-etieverso  that  hee  regard  due.  opportunitie, 
and  modesty,,  and  make  use  of  raeanes  just  and  honorable 
VOL,  II.  s:  towards 


go6 

towards  his  advancement  and  imployment:   for. though  au- 
dacitie  prevaile  often  upon  others  weakenesse,  yet  it  is  more 
secure  fiom  disgrace  to  bee  over-modest  and  considerate,  then 
overbold  and  presumptuous ;  nor  will  preferment  unduely  at- 
tained bee.  valued  and  respected  by  mindes  truely  worthy  and 
noble.     There  are  amongst  us  a  barbarous  kind  of  gallants 
who  conceive  it  great  bravery  to  lookebigand  contemptuously, 
especially  upon  strangers,  towards  whom  in  truth  a  formalilie 
and  curtesie  of  fashion  is  most  requisite;  and  many  women 
are  not  free  from  taxe,  who  commonly  have  neither  freedorae 
nor  civilitie  in  store  bnt  for  their  servants;  they  tfainke  to  en- 
deare  and  set  themselves  off  by  such  carriage,  though  often 
voyd  of  other  worth;  wee  become  accessary  to  their  rudenesse 
by  terming  it  rather  pride  than  rusticitie,  which  it  truely  is : 
they  are  proud  to  be  thought  proud,  but  should  be  taught  better 
manners  by  a  just  and  outdoing  scorne  and  censure;  we  nou- 
rish it  in  them  by  sinking  under  it,  and  blame  what  wee  breed, 
as  wee  doe  children  whom  we  first  teach  to  be  liquorish  by 
giving  them  what  they  otherwise  had  not  affected.     It  is  also 
no  small  fault  in  great  ones  not  to  be  courteous  to  their  in- 
feriours,  or  not  to  countenance  worth  in  place  of  their  advan- 
tage; they  expose  themselves  often  rather  to  suffer  (apresump- 
tuous  obtruding)  familiaritie  then  fairely  to  invite  it,  whereby 
they  open  the  doore  to  sawcy  boldnesse,  and  shut  it  upon  the 
better  and  more  inodest  dispositions.    Though  it  bee  true  that 
there  is  nothing  whereon  worthily  to  fix  our  affections  in  this 
world,  nor  valuable  to  the  fleeting  and  uncertaine  life  of  man, 
yet  hee  will  above  all  earthly  things  esteeme  of  true  honour 
and  goodnesse,  as  of  that  which  will  make  him  the  most  re- 
spected by  the  wisest  and  best  of  men,  most  advantagions  to 
perpetuate  unto  him  a  faire  and  happy  reputation  (which  the 
most  worthy  and  magnanimous  spirits  have  ever  laboured  for) 
and  most  acceptable  to  God  who  cannot  be  pleased  in  any 
thing  incompatible  and  unlike  to  himselfe.     If  therefore  hee 
either  value. to  bee  well  regarded  hy  vertuous  men,  to  leave  a 
good  reputation  and  name  to  descend  upon  his  posteritie,  to 
bee  secure  from  the  mines,  scornes,  and  punishments  that  evill 
'  men  daily  undergoe,  or  to  bee  well  Accepted  with  God,  whereby 
to  provide  to  himselfe  a  welbeing  as  well  after  as  in  this  pre- 
sent life,  let  him  labour  for  the  true  understanding  of  vertue, 
as  the  onely  rich  habit  of  a  faire  soule;  the  knowledge  whereof 
cannot  faile  to  render  him  like  unto  it  selfe:  nor  is  it  any 
thing  but  a  wilfull  and  stupid  blindnesse  to  the  discerning 
thereof,  that  causeth  the  defect  and  contempt  of  it  in  those 
many  weake  and  uncultivated  spirits  that  these  and  all  timcis 
produce." 

J.H. 


%  'Ihe  Original  ^  sprynge  of  all  secies  (^  orders  ly 
wkome,  wkd  or  were  they  leganne.  Translated  out 
ofhye  Dutch  in  Englysh.  [In  an  architectural  com- 
partment, having  for  date  on  the  sill]  1537.  izmo. 
68  leaves. 

An  address  "  to  the  reader,"  comrnences  at  the  back 
of  the  title,  after  that  "  the  contentes  of  thys  treatyse. 
I.  Ixxxiiii  orders,  sectes  or  religio~s  vnder  the  Byshop  of 
Rome.  2.  xilii  faythes  and  sectes  of  Chiste~dom  only,  be- 
syde  all  other.  3.  xvi  sectes  and  supersticio~s  of  the  Jewes 
or  Hebrues."     The  volume  concludes  with 

^  The  fayth  of  the  Indians,  euen  as  one  Mafhew  the 
embassadoure  of  Presterids  •  dyd  vtter  it  lefork 
Emanuel  kynge  of  Portingale  Anno.  M.  D.Xiii. 

'^     1  Fyrst  do  they  beleue  with  vs  the  trinite  of  persons  and 
one  God.     , 

2  And  y«  same  maruaylously  to  haue  created  heaueH, 
earth,  and  all  that  is  conteyned  in  both  of  nothynge. 

3  That  lesus  Christe,  the  anoynted  kyng  thie  saueoure  and 
the  Messias,  so  oft  promysed  by  the  prophetes,  the  very  sonfie 
of  the  true  God,  was  borne  of  Mary  the  virgin'e  both  before 
and  after  the  byrth  in  Bethleem  the  cytie  of  Dauid. 

4  And  that  the  same  beynge  iudged  of  Pilate  the  wycked 
debite  or  lewtenaunt  of  the  Romanes  in  Jewry,  dyed  at  Jertisa- 
lem  for  our  synnes,  and  was  biiryed. 

5  And  continently  to  haue  gone  downe  to  hell,  whose 
gates  he  brake:  and  on  y'=.  thyrde  daye  he  rose  agayne  alyue> 
wyth  great  victory  of  hys  enemyes  and  death  :  and  finally  to 
haue  ascended  vp  to  heauen  by  a  wonderfull  ascension,  from 
whence  he  came. 

6  They  beleue  also  an  vniuersall  and  immortall  reSurrec-< 
cio"  of  the  bodyes,  after  thys  mortall  lyfe. 

7  They  beleue  also  in  the  same  faytb,  that  Christ  shall 
iudge  both  the  good  and  euell,  &  that  euery  man  shall  receaue 
rcwarde  accordynge  to  ays  dedes  done  in  thys  lyfe. 

8  After  thys  iudgmtTt  shall  the  godly  haue  eueilastynge 
ioye,  but  the  wycked  euerlastynge  payne. 

9  They  (as  we)  kepe  the  X  commaundementes. 

10  They  graunte  Vll  deadly  synnes  also. 

11  They  haue  all  the  bokes  of  scrypture  as  we.  v- 

X  2  12,  Tiiey 


30.8 

12  They  haue  the  iiii  gospels  also; 

13  And  of  Paulas  Epistles  do  they  want  none. 
]'4  They  approue  all  y=  artikles  of  y^  crede. 

15  They  prefer  the  pater  noster  before  all  other  prayers. 

Vd  They  make  rcuch  also  of  y=  Aue  Mary. 
U7  Theyr  children  do  they  baptyse  wyth  holy  water  on  the 
vii  daye,  and  also  circumcise  them  after  Moses  law  after  y' 
costume  and  vse  of  longe  tyme. 

18  On  twolftyde  also  doth  all  the  people  yearly  professe 
ope~ly  theyr  fay th  with  great  ioye,  and  so  are  tbey  baptysed 
agayne.  '   •  ' 

-  19  They  saye  masse  also,  nerehande  'after  our  vse,  &  that 
nother  forlucre  orauau'tage.  ' 

'  20  The  sacra merite'bfaTtare  do  they  esteme  the  chefe  and 
principall,  confessynge  sytiterely  there  to  be  the  body  and 
bloude  of  Christ,  and  com'unicate  vnder  both  kytides. 

21  They  confesse  the  hojy  oyle  &  anoyntyng  to  be  sacra- 
me'tes. 

22  As  soone  as  they  haue  synned,  do  they  to  shreue  them- 
selues  to  a  prest. 

23  The  penauiTce  do-  they  dilige-tly  fulfyl. 

24  Fastynge  do  they  accomplysh  wythout  eatynge  of  flesh 
or  fysh. 

26  Lent  do  they  begynne  on  Septuagesima, 

26  The  Sondaye  and  other  holy  dayes  institute  of  theyr 
byshops,  do  they  kepe  reuerently. 

27  They  haue  the  remembraunce  of  Christes  passion  on 
the  last  weke  of  Lent,  as  we. 

28  Palnieso-daye  do  they  vse  with  vs  also,  and  Candelmasse. 

29  Procession  goynge  do  they  vse  also. 

30  They  kepe  Alhalowtyde  and  alsoule  daye  also. 

3 1  Ashwednysdaye  accordeth  with  vs  both  in  ceremonyei 
and  tyme. 

32  They  haue  also  monasteryes,  not  only  of  men,  but  also- 
of  women,  lyuynge  in  great  abstinence. 

33  Whereof  some  cloysters  haue  vii  or  viii  C.  or  a  M.  per- 
sons. 

34  One  hyll  is  there,  wheron  dwell  xii  M.  religious  persons 
whichemay  in  no  wyse  begge,but  laboure  for  theyr  lyuynges: 
neuer  the  lesse  yf  ony  almesse  be  geue"  them,  that  maye  they 
take  wel  ynough,  so  that  it  be  not  craued. 

35  They  haue  preachers  to  teach  Christes  fayth,  and  that 
of  the  best  learned  amo~ge  the  prestes  &  religious. 

36  There  are  many  hospitals  for  the  poore  only  to  be  lodged 
and  tended. 

37  The 


3^9 

37  The  churches  ^re  a  centuaij  for  mys^oers,  but.so,;  that 
he  that  is  maiislayer  be  so  slenderly  fed  that  at  the  laste  he 
must  dye  pfhungi^e.  .       T. .     .     ( 

38  I'heyr  dead  dp  they  bury  wyth  no  lesse  ceremonyes  than, 
&  alsQ  ill. churches. 

39  Holy  men  anid  of  heauenly;  cofiuersacio, . dp  they  cano- 
nizat,  after  thev  haue.searchqd  theyr  lyfe  djlige.nOy.  .  .    .    ■  J' 

40  Men  mary  but  one  wyfe  at  once,  and  that  at  the  church 
dore.  ,  '  ■.      ,  '■ 

41  And  after  olde  costumes  &  liiwes  they  mary  none  wythin 
the  vii  degre,  nother  may  theyr  Patriarke  dispense  here  wyth. 

42  They  haue  images  of  all  sayntes  intheyr  churches.  .,.  .. 

43  Holy  water  do  they  kepei  and  thynke  y^  it  chaseth 
away  wycked  spretqs.  .     .       '  ■  : 

^  They  haue  many  churches,  belles  and  holy  vestimentes 
for  sgirituall  seruice?. 

45  .They  kepe  mydsorner  moost  solemly. 

46  .They  begynne  the  yeare  at  Septe~br€.       ■       ;'i  t  ■ 

47  They  knowe  ther  is  an  head  byshop  of  Rome,  trnt  the 
caqse  that  they  obey  hym  not,  is  the  great  distaunce  from 
tym..,,  ,      .  :.   '  r-, 

48  Saynte  Bartholomew  the  Apostle  taught  them  fyrst  the 
fayithand  gospell.  -  ,  '  ,     ' 

49  Theyr  prestes  are  maryed,  but  after  the  wyues  deceasse 
they-  mary  not  agayne,  neuerthelesse  theyr  patriarke  lyueth 
chaste. 

51  Thys  dyd  y^  aforesayde  Mathew  confesse  in  the  prese~ce 
of  the  nobles  &  clargy 'of  Forty ugate. 

fl  Here  endetl^  the  tre^tyse  of  all  sectes,  Orders  and  religions 
both  of  Christendona  and  the  Jewes.-  Translated  out  of  hye 
Dufcli  in  Englyshe. 

If  Printed  in  Southwarke  by  me  James  Nicolson  for  Ihon 
Gough,'    Cum'Priuilegio." 

*  * 


^  FarnassiPuerperium:  or ^some  Well-wishes  lo  Inge- 
nuity, in  ike  Translation  of  Six  Hundred  of  Owen's 
Epigrams  ;  Martial  de  Spectaculis,  or  of  Rarities  to 
he  seen' in  Rome;  and  the  most  select,  in  Sir  Tho,' 
More.  To  which  is  annext  a  Century  of  Heroick  Epi- 
grams, Sixty  whereof  concern  the  Twelve  Casars  j 
and  the  Forty  remaining,  several  deserving  persons. 
X  3  By 


By  the  Author  of  that  celebrated  EleQieupon  Cleeve- 
land:  Tho.  Pecke  of  the  Inner  Temple,  Gent* 
Ista  tamen  mala  sunt.    Qua 4  nns  manifsita  negemus : 
Hac  mala  mnt :  sed  tu,  non  mcliora  jacis. 

Mart.  I.  2.  Ep.  8. 

JWy  stock  of  wit  is  small ;  let  them  whojlout    ■ 
My  poverty,  he  pleas' d  to  hear  me  out. 
Frinted  at  London  by  J.  Cottrel,  for  Tho.  Ba^sett  in 
St.   Dunstans  Church  yard  in  Fleet  street,    1659. 
Small  Oct. 

"  To  the  Ingenious  Readers,"  the  author  has  a  plain  ad- 
dress, wh'rein  he  observes,  "  although  no  part  of  poetry  but 
is  at  my  command,  1  have  made  choice  of  Epigrams,  as  the 
very  nerves  of  this  exquisite  art  For  if  a  piiem  be  good,  it 
Consists  of  nothing  else  but  various  epigrams,  cemented  by  a 
dexterous  sagacity.  And  not  onely  verse,  but  prose,  is  dull^ 
and  languishing,  unlesse  the  sparkling  genius  of  the  epigram- 
matist, be  artiticidUy  interwoven.  That  plaudit  the  world 
were  pleased  to  vouchsafe  my  elegie,  upon  the  unparalleld 
poet  Mr.  Cleeveland,  forbids  me  to  complain  of  that  carping 
humour,  notoriously  predominant  in  English  tnen  in  relation 
to  any  authors  of  their  own  countrey.  The  candid  acceptance 
granted  me  then,  I  have  no  reason  to  suspect  now,  fom  in- 
genious and  deserving  persons  of  all  sort.  And  as  for  a  gene- 
ration of  Sciolists,  that  make  it  their  recreation  to  slight  others, 
either  natural,  or  acquired  endowments ;  I  crave  at  their 
hands,  to  give  the  world  as  ample  a  testimony  of  their  abilities, 
as  I  have  done  of  mine.  And  then  if  they  think  my  Epi- 
grams routed,  I  shall  desire  them  to  trie  their  valour  upon  my 
satyrs.    T.  P." 

Some  Latin  verses,  subscribed,  "  Haec  in  aniiciti^ 
Tessaram  profudit  P.  Piscator,"f  precede  three  books  of 
Oweii's  Epigrams  A  new  title  for  "  Libellus  de  Spec- 
taculis,  or  an  account  of  the  most  memorable  monur; 
ments  of  the  Romane  Glory  ;"  wherein  Mjinial  is  "  pe^i- 
phrastically  translated  into  English  verse."  Anotiier 
title  to  "  certain  seleqt  Epigrams,  translated  out  of  the 

•  There  is  a  very  rare  portrait  of  the  author,  mentioned  by 
Granger.  An  eminent  collector,  t  am  told,  was  above  seven  years 
befpre  he  could  obtain  it. 

I  Payne  Fisher, 

works 


works  of  that  upright  Lord  Chancellor  and  facetious 
poet,  Sir  Tho.  More,  &c. 

Did  they  acceptance  finde,  which  went  before  ? 
To  speak  of  wit,  these  have  fourty  times  More." 

The  last  division  of  "  Heroick  Epigrams,"  has  also  a 
title-page.  After  those  on  passages  in  the  lives  of  the 
Caesars,  are  some  upon  various  subjects,  wherefrom  the 
following  may  shew  the  author's  power  to  command  all 
"  parts  of  poetry."     The  first  is  addressed 

"  To  his  Serene  Highnesse,  Richard,  Lord  Protector. 

"  Avgustus  was  most  lovely  in  the  eyes 
Of  Rome's  grave  senate,  who  did  eternise 
His  fame,  and  without  arguings  agree 
To  honour  him,  with  Pater  Patrice. 
In  a  pacifick  and  auspicions  hour. 
You  made  an  ingressH  to  the  supream  power. 
Your  sweet  demeanour  gives  publick  content. 
Love,  candor,  finde  but  few.  malevolent: 
Your  father  Julius  was;  Augustus  be  ; 
Your  countrey's  fatberj  Mecaenas  to  mc." 

"  To  those  excellent  Conveyancers,  Sir  Orlandd  Bridg- 
man,  and  the  worthy  Mr.  Geofry  Palmer. 

"  Wise  Greece  and  Rome  did  both  in  this  combine. 
To  make  addresses,- to  the  Delphian  shrinej 
And  wiih  divine  Apollo  to  advise. 
Was  the  preludium  of  an  enterprise. 
F«w  English  men  dare  purchase  an  estate 
Unless  yoUr  wisdoms,  unsophisticate. 
The  title  vouch.     Ye  can  stop  Hymen's  way; 
For  portions,  joyntures,  both  sexes  must  pay 
Due  thanks.  ,  Wise  f ithers  ranters  keep  in  awe. 
Craving  from  ye  (the  oracles  of  law) 
Help  to  entail  their  lands:  whilst  yourselves  be. 
Tenants  of  riches,  of  renown,  in  fee." 

"  To  a  certain  old  Barrister. 

"  Grave  Monsieur  Plowilen  e!ec  td  a  time 
To  tell  my  father,  laws  not  w,it  in  rj thme : 

.  X  4  Ergo 


Ergo,  I  must  the^two-topt  mount  dcfie. 

And  give  my  vale  unto  poetry.  ' 

Were  not  thy  skin  good  boffe,  my  Muse  should  send' 

The  long-naii'd  furies;  which  thy  soul  should  rend. 

1  have  fierce  satyrs,  that  can  assault  hell : 

Dash  out  Medaea's  brains,  in  spigbi  of  spell: 

Reclaim  ati  unback'd  impudence:  make  bleed 

A  rock :  and  stab  the  fell  Medusa's  head. 

And  dares  thy  empty  skull  bandy  at  me. 

Lord  paramount  of  gross  stupidity?" 

*  To  that  profound  Grecian,  Mr.  Dufort,  President  of 
Trinity  College,  in  Cambridge.        •       " 

"  The  witty  limner,  ancient  poets  fed 

With  that  which  admir'd  Homer  vomited. 
Your  curious  palat  hated  that  crude  m'eatj  < 
Homer  himself  you  disjoynted,  and  eat; 
And  lest  hi';  children  should  the  fact  reveal. 
You  devour'd  them  too,  the  succeeding  meal," 

*'  To  the  egregious  poet,  Sir  Will.  Davenam. 

"  That  Ben,  whose  head  deserv'd  the  Rosciau  bayes, 
Was  the  first  gave  the  name  of  works  to  playes : 
You,  his  corrival,  in  this  waspish  age. 
Are  more  then  Atlas  to  the  fainting  stage. 
Your  Bonus  genius  you  this  way  display : 
And  to  delight  us  is  your  opera." 

**  To  his  adopted  Vhcle,  James  Howel,  Esquire, 

"  When  fiist  propitious  stars  conceded  me 
The  sweet  enjoyment  ct  your  company, 
I  was  adopted  :  your  pity  thought  ht, 
I  at  these  years  should  be  alli'd  to  wit: 
Lest  I  should  shame  yonr  choice,  I  will  improve: 
And  fall  tp  study  in  dJodoncCs  grove." 

»^  To  the  lover  oflngenuitt/,  Tho.  Stanley,  Ei^. 

"  Nature  in  the  unfaihom'd  stagyrite 
Compos'd  a  body,  abject  to  the  sight. 
Fortune  is  more  close-fisted,  tor  we  finde 
Few  liopts  rict,  but  only  jp  the  p^jinde,  - 

Nature, 


3^3 

Nature,  Fortune,  in  you  co-operate  s 
Your  parts  are  great,  plentiful  your  estate., 
A  poet  rich,  a  Mecaenas  you  be : 
Can  our  age  parallel  in  one  these  thrtp  J",  , 

*'  To  his  loving  friend,  Mr.  Payn  Fisher. 

"  Haw  few  are  English  poets!  but  a  brain 
That  can  reach  Eia,  in  the  Latine  strain. 
Is  no  small  wonder.     Rare  in  both  you  be. 
An  anibo  dexter  in  true  poetrie." 

«'  To  Mr.  John  Ogillie. 

"  Your  sparkling  genius  I  iJiep  did  prisej 
When  you  poor  ^^6p  pleas'd  to  manumise. 
I  sacrifice  these  lines,  lest  I  alone 
Should  prove  the  cock,  &  slight  a  precious  stone. 
Were  Maro  now  alive,  he  must  you  prise. 
And  by  you  Homer  shall  regain  his  eyes." 

«*  An  Epigram  that  should  hape  been  inserted  info  a 
look  of  the  Author's,  called  Advice  to  Balaam's 
Assp:  under  the  emblem , of  a  dog  barking  at  the 
mo6n. 

"  When  Phcebe's  glory  the.curre  did  espy. 

He  flflsh'd  out  lightning  from  a  threatning  eye: 
And  what's  the  reason?  what,  you  niay  guesse  sooq,. 
People  kick  him,  while  ihcy  admire  the  moon. 
Just  so  our  Momus  snarls  at  Oslorn's  prajse. 
Cause  his  own  merits  cannot  reach  the  bayes." 

J.  H- 


^  The  Diamond  of  Deuofion :  Cut  and  squared  into 
sixe  ieueiall  pointes  :  namelie,  i.  The  .Footpath  of 
Felicitie.  2.  A  Guide  to  Godlines.  3.  The  schoole  of 
Skill.  4.  A  swarme  of  Bees.  5.  A  Plant  of  Pleasure. . 
6.  A  Groue  of  Graces.  Full  of  man'ie  f-uitfuU  les- 
sons auatleahle  vnto  the  leading  of  a  godlie  and  re- 
formed life.  By  Air.  Flerfiing.  Printed  hy  Henry 
*  Denham 


314 

Denham  in  Aldersgate  streeie,  1586  [Title  from 
Herbert,  p.  961,  —  Small  Octavo,  pp  320,  without 
prefaces,  &c.  Last  leaf]  1586  [printer's  device]  At 
London,  printed  by  Henrie  Denham,  dwelling  in  Al- 
dersgate  streete,  at  the  signe  of  the  Starre. 

Of  tbe  numerous  pieces  by  Abraham  Fleming,  there 
is  nearly  an  accurate  register  in  the  pages  of  Herbert. 
The  treatise  "  of  Englishe  Dogges,  the  Diuersities  & 
Names,  y'.  Nature,  and  the  Properties,  by  lohn  Caius, 
and  newly  drawne  into  Englishe  by  A.  F.  Student, 
1576:"  has  verses  by  him  in  English,  before  the  dedi- 
cation to  Dr.  Perne,  Dean  of  Ely,  who,  when  he  was  al- 
most overwhelmed  by  misfortunes,  raised  him  up.  To 
the  same  work  he  has  an  English  preface,  in  an  affected 
style.  He  has  other  English  verses  at  the  end  of  Bar- 
naby  Googes  Translation  of  Marcellus  Palingenius  his 
Zodiacke  of  Life,  and  before  Whetstone's  Rocke  of  Re- 
gard, both  T576.  In  a  Latin  preface  to  Withal's  Dic- 
tionary, which  he  augmented,  (1586)  he  calls  himself 
Londinigena.  He  has  also  Latin  verses  prefixed  to  Bar- 
ret's Alvearie  * 

The  above  article  is  dedicated  "  to  the  Right  Wor- 
shipfull,  Sir  George  Carey,  Knight,  Knight  Marshall  of 
hir  Maiestie's  most  honorable  houshold,  Sonne  and 
heire  apparant  to  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  Henrie, 
Lord  of  Hunsdon,  &c.  and  to  the  vertuous  and  godlie 
minded  Ladie,  the  Ladie  Elizabeth  his  wife,"  whose 
patronage  is  craved,  being  "  so  worshipfull,  so  learned, 
so  dutious  and  studious,"  as  a  means  to  prefer  the  work 
to  general  estimation. 

The  Fooiepath  to  Felicitie,  which  e2ierie  Christian  must 
-walkein,  before  he  can  come  to  the  land  of  Canaan. 
By  &c.  &c.  &c. 

•  More  than  usual  notice  is  taken  of  his  pieces  in  prose,  in 
Warton's  History  ofFtiglish  Poetry,  fol.  HI.  p.  4.02-5.  There  may 
also  be  ccn'sulted  Bislioo  Tanner's  Bibliotheca,  p.  jgy.  Peck's 
Desiderata  Curiosa,  Vol.  I.  Anecdotes  of  British  Topography,  p.  70. 
Ritson's  Bibliographia  Poetica,  p.  207  Cole's  Atbenee  Cantahr. 
Ne-we.  Rep.  F.cd.  for  St.  Pancras  Soper  latie,  and  Brydg?s'$  Thea- 
tr^m  Poet  arum,  /.  »o;.       , 

A  preface 


A  preface  to  the  reader,  followed  by  a  division  of -ten 
chapters,  upon  the  various  ways  of  man,  concluding  with 
some  verses,  as  ''  a  looking  glasse  for  the  Christiaa 
reader,"  &c. 

A  Guide  to  Godline.ise,  diiiided  into  three  speciall 
Irancke.i :  fia?nefie.  Confession,  Petition,  Thanks- 
giuing^  and  their  seuerall  hlossomes.  A  Christian  trea- 
tise, and  no  les<:e  sweete  and  comfortable,  than  neces- 
sarie  and  profitable  to  be  read  Loth  for  common  and 
priuate  vse,  &c.    Ey,  &c.  &c. 

After  the  preface  each  branch  is  divided  into  blos- 
soms ;  the  first,  in  four  parts,  appears  to  have  been  the 
composition  of  another  hand,  being  finally  subscribed 
T  C.  The  second  has  thirteen  pans,  and  the  third  ten 
parts,  composed  of  prayers  and  thanksgivings. 

The  Schoole  of  Skill,  or  the  rule  of  a  reformed  life:  Di- 
gested into  three  sententious  sequences  of  the  A.  B.  C: 
wherein  the  weake  haue  their  full  measure  of  pure 
milke,  and  the  strong  their  iust  weight  of  sound  meate. 
By,  &c.  &c. 

To  a  preface  succeed  Sententious  Sequences  upon  the 
Alphabet,  concluding  with  "a  referendarie  to  the  pre- 
mises," in  verse.  •  The  alphabetical  order  is  of  a  very 
simple  arrangement :  as 

"  A.  A  wise  man  shall  heare  and  increase  in  learning,  and 
a  nnan  of  vnderstandingsliall  atteiiie  vnto  wise  counsels. 

B.  Be  not  wise  in  thine  <3W[;e  eies,  but  feare  the  Lord,  and 
depart  from  euil.l. 

C  Commit  thy  works  vntp  the  Lord^  and  thy  thoughts 
shall  be  directed,"  &c. 

A  sivarme  of  Bees:  with  tlieir  honie  and  Honicomls. 
Gathered  out  of  the  sweete  and  odorijerous  Garden  of 
God's  word.  Heereinszich  lessons  are  to  be  learned, 
(IS  concerne  the  whole  course  of  our  life  both  towards 
God  and  man,  being  in  number  two  hundred:  ivhereof 
some  persuade  vs  to  verliie  and  godlinesse,  other  some 
dissuade  us  from  vice  and  uickednesse.     By,  &c. 

A  preface,  with  ten  honeycombs,  as  dehortatlons  from 
vice  and  a  vicious  life,  wiih  a  referendarie,  to  conclude. 

Tliis 


3i6 

This  is  a  collection  of  sentences,  in  nnmber  an  hundred, 
each  commencing  with  the  same  word,  thus, 

"  Be  not  deceitfull,  for  such  a  one  shall  not  rest  that  he 
tooke  in  hunting  :  but  the  riches  of  the  iust  are  of  great  value. 

Be  not  shamelesse  in  sinning  least  the  vengeance  of  the 
Lord  ouertake  thee,  and  ihou  be  crushrd  in  pieces. 

Be  not  sparing  in  vsing  the  rod,  least  thou  hating  thy  sonne, 
be  an  occasion  that  he  curse  thee  another  daie." 

A  plant  of  pleasurei  hearing  fourteene  seuerall  flotvers^ 
called  by  the  names  of  Hqlie  Hymnes,  and  spirituall 
songs.     Wherein  such  godlie  exercises  are  presented 

■    to  the  hands  of  euerie  particular  person,  as  may  con- 
uenienllie  he  applied  to  their  priuate  vse,  not  onelie 
in  the  pleasant  spring  of  prosperitie,  hiit  also  in  the ' 
haid  winter  of  aduersitie.     By,  &c. 

The  preface  says  to  the  reader  it  is  "  to  reade,  at  thy 
leasure  for  thy  recreation,  and  not  so  much  for  thy  recre- 
ation as  for  thy  profit:  which  I  haue  put  partlie  in 
rythme,  and  partlie  in  prose,  for  the  satisfaction  of  sundrie 
readers  desires,  some  beeing  addicted  to  this,  and  some 
delighted  in  that  kind  of  writing."  The  pieces  are  alter- 
nate prose  and  verse.     At  the  end 

ff  A  Referendarie  to  the  premisses  for  the  godlie  Reader. ' 

"  Some  liue  in  fleshlie  pleasure. 
And  some  in  couitlie  brauerie. 
Consuming  lands  and  treasure. 
About  a  golden  slauerie. 

Whose  sweetenesse  whiles  they  couit. 
They  cannot  choose  but  loue  it. 

Some  neuer  cease  lamenting. 

Because  they  are  in  penurie,   ■ 
And  alwaies  are  inuenting 
Their  end  by  mortail  iniuriej 

Whereas  they  should  content  them. 
With  that  which  God  hath  sent  them. 
But  be  thou  better  learned. 

Which  louest  Christ  his  veritie,  ■ 
Whereby  thou  hast  discerned 
That  euerie  thing  is  vanitie. 
The  world,  and  all  within  it. 
Though  worldlings  sweat  to  win  it. 

And 


And  when  conuenient  leasure. 

Doth  serue  for  recreation. 
Then  vse  these  plants  of  pleasure, 
And  grafts  of  consolation : 

Yea  then  and  alwaies  vse  them. 

And  at  no  time  refuse  thqtn.  A.  F." 

A  Groue  of  Graces,  supplied  with  plentie  of  plants,  ap- 
pliable  to  pleasure  and  profit :  whereof  whusoeuer  be 
disposed  deuoutlie  to  take  a  view,  they  shall  haue  the 
choise  offortie  (and  not  so  few)  godlie  exercises  of 
Christian  dutie,  ordinarilie  to  he  vsed  before  and  after 
their  dailie  diet.    By,  &c. 

Forty-t^o  in  number,  for  dinner  and  supper,  "  some 
in  verse,  and  other  some  in  prose,  all  and  eucrie  of  them 
(as  the  preface  declares)  tending  to  God's  glorie,  as  bles- 
sings and  thankesgiuings  vnto  his  diuine  Maiestie,  for  his 
vnspeakable  clemencie,  and  fatherlie  prouidence,  which 
he  hath  ouer  vs  sinfuli  and  wretched  creatures."  Of 
Fleming's  manner  and  prose,  the  following  may  serve: 

"  Grace  before  supper.  Most  gratious  God,  which  cloathest 
the  lillies  of  the  field  with  beautie,  far  aboue  the  roialtie  of 
Salomon :  and  feedest  the  little  sparrowes,  which  fall  not.  to 
the  ground  without  thy  prouidence :  be  present  (we  beseech 
thee)  at  this  table,  and  season  with  the  salt  of  thy  blessing 
these  thy  creatures,  that  in  receiuing  thenn  as  becomeih  Chris- 
tians, we  may  also  be  sanctifit-d,  and  in  all  our  eatings  &  drink- 
ings  euermore  remember  to  confesse  and  acknowledge  thee  in 
thy  benefits,  from  whome  all  good  things  proceede,  for  the 
succour  of  thy  seruants,  and  receiue  them  according  to  the  rule 
of  true  Christianitie,  through  Christ  our  Lord  &  onlie  Sauiour. 
So  be  it." 

The  volume  concudes  with  "  a  briefe  praier,  in  place 
of  a  conclusion."  >  J.  H. 


^  Old  Musical  Airs. 

i.  * 
"  Hither  we  come  into  this  world  of  woe, 

And  feeling  to  what  end  wee  come,  wee  crie : 
I'  th'  morning  of  our  age  like  flowers  wee  blow, 
And  like  God's  figures-seerae  too  good  to  die  -• 

•  Madrigales  and  Ayres.     Of  fwo,  three,  foure  and  fiue-'vejces, 
'with  the  continued  base,  'with  Toccatos,  Sinfonias  and  Ritlornellos  to 

them. 


5i8 

But  let  afflictions  touch  vs,and  likecJay, 
Wee  fall  to  what  we  are  and  end  the  day. 


He  that  loues  a  rosie  cheelie^ 

Or  a  corral!  lip  admires; 
Or  from  starlike  eyes  doth  seeke 

Fewell  to  maintaine  his  fires  : 
As  olde  Time  mak<s  these  decay. 
So  his  flames  must  waste  away. 
But  a  smooth  and  stedfast  mind. 

Gentle  thoughts  and  calme  desires  j 
Hearts  with  equall  loue  combin'd, 

Kindlesse*  nener  dying  fires. 
Where  these  are  not,  I  despise 
Lonely  cbeekes  or  lips  or  eyes,  t 


Sitting  once  rapt  with  delight. 
In  my  fayrest  mystresse  sight  j 
1  tooke  pleasure  to  compare, 
Her  eyes  whitenesse  to  the  ayre; 
That  which  cqmpast  in  the  ball, 
I  did  purest  water  call ;     , 
And  the  prettie  inward  round, 
I  stil'd  earth :  but,  oh  !   I  found. 
While  some  part  I  did  desire 
For  to  liken  vnto  fire. 
Ere  I  knew  from  whence  it  came, 
I,  myselfe,  grew  all  a  flame. 


them.  After  the  manner  of  consort  Musique.  To  be  performed  with  the 
Harpesecbord,.  Lutes,  theorbos.  Base  I^ioll,  t'wo  Violins  or  t'vao  Viols. 
P'vblished  by  Walter  Porter,  one  of  the  Gentlemen  of  his  Maiesties  Royall 
Cbafpelt.  London,  printed  by  tUlliam  Stansbj.  1632.  Cum  Priuikgia. 
Dedicated  to  John  Lord  Digby,  of  Sherburne,  Earleof  Bns^aw. 
The  address  "  to  the  Practitioner,"  says  "  before  you  censure, 
■which  I  know  yon  will,  and  they  that  vnderstand  least  most 
sharply ;  let  me  intreate  you  to  pla}>  and  sing  them  true,  according 
to  try  meaning,  or  bear  them  done  so;  not  in  steed  of  singing,  to 
howle  or  bawle  them,  and  scrape  in  steed  of  playing  and  performe 
them  falsly  and  say  they  are  naught."  Contains  twenty-six  songs. 
•  Kindle,  Ed,  id+o. 
f  Set  for  four  voices.  These  exquisite  lines  by  Carew,  are  here 
given  to  the  public  eight  years  before  any  collection  of  his 
poEms  was  printed,  and  probably  before  they  were  weakened  in  ef- 
fect by  an  additional  stanza.     They  occur  at  p.  29  of  Ed.  164.0. 

iv. 


319 

iv. 

Who  hath  a  human  soultf  and  musirke  hates, 
Hales  his  owne  soule  that's  made  harmonionsly : 

Then  they  are  diuels,  or  right  reprobates. 

To  hate  that  without  which  mens  spirits  should  die : 

For  if  the  ioyes  of  heauen  bee  much  in  this. 

Let  him  to  hell  to  howie  that  hates  this  blisse. 


Old  poets  that  in  Cupid's  hand 

Put  weapons  first,  did  but  alow 
These  then  were  all  his  armes,  a  brand, 

A  chain,  two  shafts,  one  bow. 
But  now  he  finds  in  Celia's  brow. 

In  both  her  eyes,  in  all  her  partes. 
Ten  thousand  fetters,  flames  and  dartes. 

Tell  me  the  number  of  her  hayres. 
Count  all  the  glances  of  her  eyesj 

The  graces  and  the  carelesse  snares. 
That  in  her  looser  beautie  lyes  : 

Sweet  smiles  and  sweeter  ayres  that  flye 
Like  lightning  from  her  lippes,  and  then 

Tell  me  how  many  wayes  loue  murders  men. 


Since  all  things  loue,  why  should  not  we? 

The  best  of  creatures  bee  as  free ; 

The  pearle  ey'd  fish,  in  euerie  water. 

Pursues  his  loue  being  taught  by  natiire : 

The  seejy  worme,  the  lambe,  and  harmlesse  doue; 

Which  knoweth  nothing,  yet  knowes  how  to  loue. 

All  sencelesse  things  loues  passions  feeles. 
The  stone  attrackes  th'  vnyeelding  Steele : 
The  iuie  twines  on  euerie  tree. 
And  loues  it  more  then  you  loue  mee. 
And  in  the  cold  of  winter  fresh  is  scene. 
For  heate  of  loue  is  it  that  keepes  it  greene. 

Then  learne  by  seeing  what  they  doe. 

If  they  want  eyes,  hands,  tongues,  yet  woo. 

Can  you  that  haue  of  each  the  best. 

Apt  for  that  vse  yet  vse  them  least? 

'Tware  sin  to  thinke  the  world  did  nere  yet  show. 

So  viikind  a  brest  grac't  with  so  mild  a  brow. 

The 


3:30 

The  lasse  that  lou'd  the  Idean  swaine. 

Thought  it  not  base  npr-fouiid  jt  vaine; 

^done /was  lou'd  though  proud  and  coyej 
'Endimion  to,  that  drowsie  bpye, 
.Whom  for  to  please  such  care  faire  Cinthia  tookc. 

That  euer  since  that  time  she  pale  doth  looke. 

Then  let  vs  lone  whilst  we  are  in  jouth. 
You  fraught  with  beautie,  I  with  truth; 
Wee'l  make  the  world,  being  in  our  prime. 
Wrinkled  with  enuie  more  then  timej 
And  wheii  top  old  to  Jiue,  yet  fate  drawes  nigh. 
Our  loue  shall  make  vs  too,  too  young  to  die. 

vii. 

In  Celia's  face  a  question  did  arise. 
Which  were  more  beautifull,  her  lips  or  eyes; 
Wee,  said  the  eyes,  send  forth  those  pointed  darts 
Wtiich  pierce  the  hardest  adamantine  hearts ; 
From  vs,  reply'd  the  lips,  proceed  those  blisses. 
Which  louers  reape  by  kinde  words  and  sweet  kisses : 
Then  wept  the  eyes  and  from  the  springs  did  powre 
Of  liquid  prienjtal  pearle  a  showre ; 
Whereat  the  lips,  mepu'd  with  delight  and  pleasure. 
Through  a  swecte  smile  vnlockt  their  pearly  treasure. 
And  bade  Loue  iudge,  whither  did  add  more  grace. 
Weeping  or  smiling  pearles  to  Coelia's  face. 

viii.  • 

Loue  in  thy  youth  faire  maide  bee  wise, 

Olde  tiriie  will  make  thee  colder. 
And  though  each  morning  new  arise. 

Yet  we  each  day  grow  older. 
1    Thou  as  heauen  art  faire  and  young. 

Thine  eyes, like  twine  starres  shining: 
But  ere  another  day  be  sprung. 

All  these  will  bee  declining. 
Then  winter  comes  with  all  his  feares. 

And  all  thy  sweetes  shall  bprrow; 
Too  late  then  wilt  thou  shower  thy  teares. 

And  I  too  late  shall  sorrow. 

ix. 

Thy  face  and  eyes  an^  all  thou  hast  is  faire. 
And  for  their  sakes  most  men  affect  thee; 

But  I  perceiue  in  thee  some  thing  more  rare. 
Then  outward  beautie  for  which  I  affect  thee. 

Thy 


32i 

Thy  mind  is>  fayrer  thea  thy  fgae  or  eye*; 

And  that  sailne  beauteous  oufeiide  whiel)  ,thpu_,  hast  j 
Is  but  a  curious  casket,  in,  which  lyes 

The  treasures  of  a  minde  vertuous  and  chaste. 
So  keepe  them  stij  and  let  not  youth  deceiue  thee: 

For  when  through  age  thy  Beautie  shall  decay. 
Those  that  for  beautie  loue  thee  then  will'  le^uethee. 

But  worth  will  last  vntill  thy  dying  day. 
But  he  that  shall  for  both  Of  these  esteeme  thee. 

And  thinke  thee  faire  and  know  thy  vertues  too; 
Hee  cannot  chuse  but  euer  dearly  deenne'thee,        ' 

And  much  admire  theej  as  I  sweare  I  doe. 

«.* 

Loue  the  delight,  of  all  well  thinking  mind^; 

The  fruit  of  vertiie  deerly  loiildj 
Vertue  the  highest  good  that  reason  finds. 

Reason  the  fire  wherein  mens  thopghts  be  proou'd  5 
Are  from  the  world  hiy  natures  power  bee  reft. 
And  in  one  creature  for  her  gldrie  left. 

(Part  2.) 

Beautie  her  couer  is  the  eyes  true  pleasure : 

In  honours  fame  she  liues  i  the  eares  sweet  riiiisickej 

Excesse  of  wonder  growes  from  her  true  measure, 
Her  worth  is  passions  wound-  arid  passions  physicke : 

From  her  true  heart  clear  springs  of  Wisdome  flow. 

Which  imag'd  in  her  words  and  deed  men  know. 

(Part  3.) 

Tiijie faine  would,  stay  that  she  might  neuer  leaue  her; 
Death  craues  of  heauen  that  she  may  not  bereaue  herj 

*  Basses.  MottecU  pr^.  Crave  Ghamber  Mvji^'ue.  Ciutaining 
songs  of  fiue  farts  of  setter  all  sorts,  some  ful,  and  some  'verse  and 
chorus.  But  all  ft  for  iiojces  and  vials,  tvith  an  Organ  part  i  'which 
for  'want  of  Organs,  may  be  performed  on  Virginals,  Bcue-L'Ote,  Ban- 
dora  or  Irish  Uarpe.  Also  a  mourning,  song,  of  sixe  patts  for  the  death 
tf  the  late.  Right  Hmarable  Sir  Fvlke  Grepjl^  Knight -of  the  Honourable 
Order  of  the  Bath,  Lord  Brooke,  Baron  Brooke  of  Beauchampf  Court,  in 
the  Countie  of  Warvjicke,  and  of  his  Mai^itie;S  most  Honourable  Prime 
Councell,  &c.  Composed  Recording  to  the  rulis  of  Art,  by  J\flartin] 
P[_eersons']  Batcheler  ofMvsifve.  London,  printed  by  JVilUantStansby, 
1630.  Dedicated  to  Robert,  Lord  Brooke,  Saron  Brooke  of  Beaif- 
champs  Court  in  the  Countie  of  Warwicke.  Contains  15  pieces  of 
musick.  ^ 

vol..  It.  Y  The 


323 

The  heauens  know  their  owne  and  do  maintaine  herj 
Delight,  \aae,  reason,  vertue  let  it  bee. 
To  set  all  women  light  but  only  shee. 
xi. 

Cvpid  my  prettie  boye,  leaue  off  thy  crying. 

Thou  shalt  haue  bels  and  apples,  be  not  peeuish  : 
Kisse  mee  sweet  ladde,  beshrew  her  for  denying. 

Such  rude  denials  doe  make  children  theeuish. 
Did  reason  say  that  boyes  must  bee  restrayned. 
Or  would  they  haue  thee  from  swe'ete  Mira  weyned? 
What  was  it  tell  that  cruel  honour  chidden  ? 
Are  those  faire  breasts  made  daintic  to  be  hidden  ? 
Tell  mee,  sweete  boy,  doth  Mira's  beautie  thretten : 

Must,  you  say  grace  when  yon  should  be  a  playing. 
Doth  shee  make  thee  make  faults  to  make  thee  beaten : 

Is  beauties  pride  in  innocence  betraying? 
Gdue  me  a  bow,  let  mee  thy  quiver  borrow. 
And  she  shall  play  the  child  with  loue  or  sorrow. 

zii. 

Who  trusts  for  trust,  or  hopes  of  loue  for  loue. 

Or  who  belou'd  in  Cupid's  lawes  doth  glorie ; 
Who  ioyes  in  vowes,  or  vowes  not  to  rcmooue. 

Who  by  this  light  God  hath  not  been  made  sorric  - 
Let  him  see  me  eclipsed  from  my  sonne. 
With  shadows  of  an  earth  quite  overrun. 

(Second  part.) 

Who  thinkes  that  sorrows  felt,  desires  hidden. 

Or  humble  faith  with  constant  honour  armed. 
Can  keepe  Loue  from  the  fruit  that  is  forbidden. 

Change  I  doe  meane  by  no  faith  to  be  charmed  r 
Looking  on  mee  let  him  know  loues  delights 
Are  treasures  hid  in  caues,  but  kept  with  sprights. 

xiii.* 

Where  shall  a  sorrow  great  enoagh  bee  sought 
For  this  sad  mine  which  the  fates  haue  nought  j 
Vnlesse  the  fates  themselves  should  weepe,  and  wish. 
Their  curblesse  powers  had  been  control'd  in  this  ? 
For  thy  losse,  worthiest  Lord,  no  mourning  eye 
Has  flood  enough,  no  muse,  nor  elegie 
Enough  expression  to  thy  worth  can  len^, 
No,  tJioqgh  thy  Sidney  had  suruiu'd  his  friend. 

*  Upon  Sir  Fnlke  Grevill,  see  title; 

Part     !rt     t 


8^3 

(Part  2.) 
JDeadj  noble  Brooke^  shall  be  to  us  a  name 
Of  griefe  and  honour  still;  whose  deathless  fanie 
Such  vertue  purchased  as  tnakes-  vs  to  bee 
Vnjust  to  nature  in  lamenting  thee ; 
Wayling  an  olde  mans  fate,  as  if.in  pride 
And  heate  of  youth  hee  had  vntimely  dy'd." 

j.ii. 


%  Folly  in  Print,  or,  a  Book  of  Rymes. 

JVhoever  huyes  this  look  will  say, 
There's  so  much  money  thrown  away  z 
The  Author  thinks  you  are  to  llame, 
To  buy  a  hook  without  a  name; 
And  to  say  truth,  it  is  so  had, 
A  worse  isino  where  to  he  hadi 

London,  printed  ifi  the  year  1667; 

Licensed  by  L'Estrange,  May  1 5, 1667,  and  contains  the 
lucubrations  of  a  soldier  who  served  in  the  Dutch  and 
Spanish  wars.  His  name  was  probably  Reymund,  and 
he  was  intimate  or  connected  with  sfeveral  branches  of 
the  noble  family  of  Bellasise.  The  •'  tymes"  are  chiefly 
lyrical  and  amatory,  with  some  occasional  |iieces,  rather 
too  volatile  and  humorous,  though  sanctioned  by  the 
manners  of  that  licentious  age.  *  They  are  introduced 
with  a  short  address 

"To 

*  One  is  "  a  Ballad  on  a  friend's  wedding,  to  the  tune  of  Sir 
John  Suckling's  Ballad."  The  introduttory  lines,  and  first  two 
stanzas,  may  be  given. 

"  As  an  attendant  on  Sii"  Johft 
I  wait  without  comparison. 
Great  difference  is  in  our  pen 
And  soinething  in  the  maids  and  meri, 
I  do  not  write  to,  gef  a  ilartie. 
At  best,  this  is  but  ballad  fame. 
And  Suckling  hath  shut  up  that  doort 
To'  all  hereafter  at  before. 

y  z  Kow 


3^4 

"  To  the  Reader. 

"  CotfKTEOUS   BSADEK, 

"  The  whole  world  (imaginably)  is  but  one  great  market  j 
and  all  mankind  in  \t,  are  distinguish'd  into  buyers  and  sellers, 
who  either  truck  for,  or  buy  commodities;  particularly  in 
bookSj  where  for  money  or  exchange,  we  take  our  choice,  and 
in  our  own  election  please  our  selves;  mens  judgments,  as ' 
their  appetites,  are  very  different;  the  market's  free  to  buy  or 
cheapen;  who  buyes  upon  the  sellers  word,  may  be  deceived; 
who  chobseth  ill  deceives  himself. 

"  I  doe  not  promise  for  my  book  nor  say  'tis  good,  buf 
here's  variety,  and  each  man  (of  his  own  paliat)  is  the  certain 
judge :  it  may  please  Sonne,  to  them  'tis  good;  by  whom  dis- 
li^'d,  to  them  as  bad. 

"When  thegazets*  are  cry'd,  we  buy  in  expectation  of  some 
thing  new,  yet  though  the  news  be  ne're  so  good,  in  three  days 
time  'tis  laid  aside,  though  we  were  pleased  with  our  peny 
worth  :  I  cannot  expect  a  better  fortune  in  this  composition; 
'tis  now  expos'd  to  your  censure;  if  it  meet  with  generous 
patrons,  I  am  oblig'd  to  serve  you  agen  and  better,  from  your, 
incouragement.    Farewcl." 

"  The  Cotsal  Sheapheards,  to  the  tune  ofAmariUis  told 
her  Swain. 

"  All  ye  that  love,  or  who  pretends, 

Come  listen  to  my  sonnet, 
Black-baggs,  or  vizards,  who  have  friends. 

Or  English  teags  or  bonnets. 
See  here  our  Shepheardess,  and  Swain, 

How  they  make  love  on  Cotsall  plain. 

'     '  '  ■■III  -      I       .      ^.  ■  ,..,,_  ■» — - 

Now  Tom,  if  Suckling  were  alive. 
And  knew  who  Harry  were  to  wive. 

He'd  shift  his  scaene  I  trow, 
From  Charing- cross  to  Clarkenwel, 
And  sure  .as  fine  a  tale  would  tell. 

As  he  did  long  agoe. 
But  since  his  wit  hath  left  no  heir. 
He  sing  my  song  of  such  a  pair. 

The  like  hath  not  been  seen. 
In  all  our  markets  round  about 
Witliin  our  city-walls,  or  out, 

God  bless  the  King  and  Queen." 
•  This  word  was  generally  used  for  all  diurnals. 


3^S 

Bis.  Atnarillis  why  so  coy, 
Think'st  thou  that  the  winged  boy. 

Can  never  overtake  thee  ? 
Bis.  Colin  (no)  Iflye  not  himj 

But  thou  who  ■m[t  forsake  me. 

Bis.  Dearest  I  forsake  my  sheep. 
And  forget  to  eat  or  sleep. 

To  follow  Amarillis; 
And  dying  lye  down  at  thy  feet. 

Since  such  thy  cruel  will  is. 

Treason  makes  a  goodly  show; 
Black  that's  cover'd  ore  with  snow; 

The  eye  doth  not  discover; 
I  must  have  more  assurance  yet 

Ere  I  become  a  lover. 

In  extreamesrt  winter  cold, 
I  hunt  foxes  from  thy  fbuld. 

Nor  will  I  many  Phillis ; 
But  in  thine  abscence  close  mine  eyes, 

And  call  on  Amarillis. 

Yet  thou  didst  the  other  day. 
At  our  pastoralls  in  May, 

Hear  Coridon  to  jeere  me; 
Who  said  I  was  not  yet  so  fair. 

That  Colin  need  to  fear  me. 

Envy  cannot  make  thee  foul. 
Nor  fine  words  make  fayrer  foul ; 

Nor  clownes  can  change  their  natures. 
He  dye  to  tell  the  world  that  you 

Exceed  them  all  in  features. 

Colin  live,  for  I  am  thine. 
Drive  thy  flocks  up  unto  mine, 

I'le  yield  to  thy  imbraces. 
And  chant  thee  pleasing  rounddelayes. 

Do  thou  foot  comely  paces. 

Happy  Collin,  fayrest  maid. 

My  grief  and  care,  thou  hast  allay 'd. 

With  words  so  sweetly  charming, 
Now  on  this  banke,  thou  shalt  confess 

J  fear  no  others  harming. 


Y  3  Dearest 


326 

Dearest  Collin  stay  awhile. 

The  time  with  talke  we  will  beguile. 

Till  evening  shall  befriend  us ; ,  , 
Wee'l  then  take  in  that  happiness 

Which  love  anon  will  send  us. 

Now  Colinj  Amarillis  now 

He  did,  she  did,  swear  and  vow. 

They'd  never  part  asunder  : 
Forsworne  they  part,  and  meet  agen. 

But  that's  no  lovers  wonder." 

"  To  an  absent  Friend. 

i'  As  streams  do  circulating  creep. 

Through  empty  veins  of  th'  im  mov'd  earth. 
Till  to  their  mother  in  the  deep, 
,  They  pay  the  tribute  of  their  birth : 

So  circularly  we  do  move, 

Impell'd  by  sympathy  to  meet; 
Our  hearts  are  centrical  in  love. 

At  distance  we  incline  and  greet. 
A  tyrant  shackles  may  put  on. 

But  cannot  blind  our  inward  light. 
No  cave  so  much  obscur'd  from  sun. 

That  on  our  souls  can  force  a  night. 
Love  is  our  light,  give  me  a  friend 

Whose  breast  transparent  is  to  mej 
Eternal  beings  have  no  end. 

My  friendship  would  be  that  to  thee. 
What  fortune  'tis  keeps  us  asunder. 
Is  both  my  trouble  and  my  wonder."^ 

"  The  new  mode  of  Love. 

'.'  The  whining  lover  seldome  gets  a  prize. 

The  bold  and  careless  make  the  conquest  sure. 
When  you  come  to  look  babies  in  their  eies,* 
They  whistle  you  like  hawks  unto  a  lur?." 

*  This  allusion  was  once  popular  with  our  poets,  and  several 
instances  are  cited  in  the  kuarterly  Re'vieiv,  Vol.  XV.  p.  ,171, 
An  earlier  than  is  there  noticed  occurs  \n  England'' s  Helicor.,  p.  234. 
It  is  ajso  repeatedly  used  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 

'<  To 


"  To  a  Spanish  Lady  in  S.  Lugar. 

"  Reymund  thou  hast  surviv'd  a  warre 

Where  thousands  perish'd  in  thy  sight. 
And  thou  hast  travail'd  now  so  farre 

To  yield  thy  self  without  a  fight. 
No  more  thy  warfare  ever  boast. 

Nor  name  thy  self  a  souldier  now, 
Since  in  that  very  port  th'  art  lost, 

Where  thou  thy  courage  shouldst  avow : 
Thou  knowst  how  ambushes  are  laid 

How  to  avoid  an  enemy. 
The  ambush  of  a  Spanish  maid. 

Hath  forc'd  from  thee  thy  liberty ; 
But  Reymund  with  safe  conduct  came. 

And  cannot  be  a  prisoner, 
'Tis  great  injustice,  as  great  blame. 

To  circumvent  a  travailer. 
And  yet  alass  ,1  must  confess 

That  1  have  broke  your  country's  law. 
And  by  a  clandestine  address. 

Would  carry  hence  that  mayd  away. 
My  dear  Lusya,  'tis  a  truth. 

Your  country  hath  of  saints  such  store. 
That  I  would  glory  in  thy  youth. 

And  in  my  country  thee  adore; 
But  if  Saint  Lugar  be  the  shrine 

Where  my  devotion  I  must  pay. 
But  promise  me  you  will  be  mine, 
I'le  make  another  holy-day." 

"  Postscript  to  the  Reader. 

'  Now  you  have  pay'd,  and  read,  farewel. 
Be  wiser  yet  and  keep  counsel. 
For  like  to  him  who  show'd  a  mare. 
Horse  and  no  horse  to  be  seen  there  j 
The  tayl  was  where  the  head  should  be. 
To  th'  manger  ty'd  j  my  poetry 
Is  such  a  show  J  for  wanting  coyn, 
The  lyon  with  the  fox  I  joyn: 
And  thank  ye  all  for  this  relief, 
'Tis  better  then  a  begging-brief. 
In  all  this  town  ye  cannot  find 
A  fitter  man  to  cheat  the  blind," 

J.H. 

Y  4 


,328 

%  A  NighfS'Sietirch.  Btii'c&uMiig  Vhe^ria.tu'fe  and  con~ 
dition  qf  all  sorts  qf  Night-walker sr,  wit k  ^ heir  As- 
sociates, As  also  the  Life  and  Death  of  many  of 
them.  Together  with  divers  fearfull  and  strange  ac- 
cidents, occasioned 'ly  -such  ill  liv6rs.  Digested  into  a 
poeme  ly  Humpkt-y  4Mill, 

Node  latent  mendig;  sic  sic  dixere  p'ctetic ; 
Ast  ego  (nee  mendax)  nocte  dieqiie  patent. 

London,  printed  by  Richard  Bishop  for  Laurence 
Blaicklock  at  the  Sugar-loafe  nexte  Temple  Barre. 
1640.  Oct.  168  leaves. 

A  frontispiece, lengraved  in  compartmentg,  with  emble- 
matical additions,  and  the  -whole  explained  in  a  page  of 
poetry,  precedes  fhe  above  title.  *  It  is  dedicated  to  the 
Earl  or  Essex,  followed  ,  by  an  -address  to  the  reader, 
where  the  author  concludes  with  some  singuiar  observa- 
tions, in  favour  of  his  own  performance. 

"  Let  every  reader  take  what  belongs  to  himselfe,  and  passe 
a  gentle  censure  on  the  rest.  The  sharpnesse  of  it  is  qualified^ 
•where  advice  takes  place;  and  there  are  none  that  read  but 
may  gaine,  or  delight,  or  profit,  more  or  lesse,  if  they  stand 
not  in  their  own  light.  I  have  used  their  own  language  in 
some  places  to  set  out  their  folly.  Though  every  ;phrase  or 
gen  tence  be  not  cojnposed  of  real  truth,  yet  there  is. a  probability 
or  morality  of  truth  in  all.  I  need  not  shew  how  a  metaphori- 
cal], analogical!,  or  an  aHegoricall  speech  retaines  truth;  or. 
how  the  figures  lead  to  the  substance,  or  of  the  liberty  of  speech 
that  poetry  affords  :  in  this  I  had  rather  learne  than  teach.  I 
have  not  us'd  knotty  words,  nor  rOcfcy  expressions  in  the  prose- 
cution of  it;  but  in  as  sutahle  termes,  as  my  slender  wit,  with 
so  little  art,  can  conceive.  Perha,ps  the  best  may  find  more 
than  they  expect  and  the  worst  more  than  they  desire.  My 
muse  hath  kept  her  selfe  from  infection,  notwithstanding  the 
many  temptations  occasions,  provocations,  that  she  hath  met 
withall  in  her  search.  J  suppose,  envy  itselfe  will  not  question 
the  lawfulnesse  of  the  subject;  seeing  the  prophets  in  divers 
places  describes  harlots  in  their  kind;  and  Salomon  that  wise 
king,  in  their  lookes,  gestures,  .speeches,  fawning,  alluring, 
&:c.  before  he  had  J^iiy  practical!  experience  of  them.    But  if 

*  5."?^^^"°*'"^  '^'"  ''"^  f°^™  '"h^s  been  several  times 
pnntdii.;'  and  that  a  portrait  of  the  author  is  prefixed  to  one  of 
the  editions.  .     ,        i     , 

any. 


3^9 

any  aske  why  must  I  undertake  such  a  work  ?  I  answer,  why 
should  not  any  man  use  the  gifts  that  he  hath  received  to  profit 
himselfe  or  others  ?  epsecially  if  delight  put  him  upon  it?  or 
>f  his  occasions  impose  not  a  necessity  of  other  imployments 
upon  him  ?  I  was  never  so  bound  to  any  but  I  could  purchase 
some  time  to  raise  my  genius  above  these  earthly  contents  be- 
low. For  the  veifseSj  I  have  kept  to  one  number  and  measure; 
only  the  epitaphs  are  woven  stanzas  :  in  a  continued  subject 
it  is  not  proper  to  vary  the  verse. 

"  I  have  laboured  to  make  these  lines  so  smooth  as  I  could, 
in  placing  the  breathing  accents  where  they  may  fall  with 
most  advantage,  (except  those  which  run  cleane  without  them : ) 
noT  have  I  broke  the  fifst,  or  last  foot  of  the  verse,  which  might 
make  it  run  harsh,  nor  strain'd  the  coupling  accents  above  what 
is  required  in  the  harmony :  nor  fallen  too  low  in  the  descent 
whidh  might  give  thp  verse  an  unnatural  sound,  where  the 
concords  should  chiefly  meet. 

"  If  you  find  any  verse  a  syllable  too  short  in  the  number, 
then  compare  the  measure  with  it,  for  if  there  be  a  monosyl- 
lable that  sounds  long  upppnthe  letter  (r)  it  will  answer  to  a 
spondey,  or  a  trochey,  consisting  of  two  syllables ;  especially 
in  the  breathing  or  coupling  accents.  If  any  seem  too  long, 
observe  but  the  cadence  which  -may  fall  a  syllable  longer  in 
the  coupling,  yet  answer  with  a  true  sound:  or  els  it  may  fall 
low,  that  a  dactyle  which  consists  of  three  syllables,  beares  but 
the  sound  of  two:  and  many  words  consisting  of  two,  foure, 
or  five  syllables,  do  naturally  fall  a  syllable  shorter  in  the  pro- 
nunciation, or  being  cut  shdrt  by  apostrophes,  'twill  resolve 
the  doubt.  I  commit  my  muse  to  your  care;  her  colour's 
black  and  white,  you  may  trust  her :  she  has  been  purg'd  in 
the  Search,  and  prest  for  revealing  secrets;  she'll  both  give, 
and  take  warning  by  it,  and  wisheth  the  reader  fo  do  the  like. 
Vale." 

The  volurne  is  ushered  forth  with  the  cornplimentary 
.tributes  of  a  bevy  of  writers. — "Tho.Mill,  Mr.  of  Arts,Oxon." 
tells  ^'  his  much  respected  brother,"  that  "  the  ancient  poet? 
live  in  thee  agen."  —  "  Tho.  Hey  wood"  recommends  his 
"  adopted  sonne"  to  pursue  the  subject,  f'and  dippe  in  Helicon 
thy  quill."—"  Steph.  Bradwell"  describes  the  book  a  Bride- 
well, where  vicious  charapters  "meet  ppnishmepts  npon 
their  mprit." — "  Tho.  Nabbs"  enquires  of  '.'  his  loving  friend" 
what  "  mov'd  thee  to  make  a  constable  of  thy  wit  .*"  whence 
one  night's  searph  "  dispover'd  more^  than  all  the  searchers 
that  have  been  before." — "  Tho.  Brewer,"  for  "  his  kinde 
friend,"  would  have  "  all  faire  winds  breathe  o're  this  noble 
Mijl."-:.?'  Tho,  Goodeare,  Curias  W^rdorum,"  dignifies  the 

book 


33° 

book  as  "  learned  verse." — "  C.  G.  ex  Oxon."  adds  "  a  voyce 
unto  their  quire,"  upon  "  the  variety  of  pleasjng  fancies  in  the 
poem." — "  Dan.  Fox,  Grayes  Inn,"  furnishes  the  "  ingenious 
author,"  with  a  baptism :  "a  Mill  a  poet,  poet  Mill." — "Joan. 
Patridopeilus,"  begins  his  address  thus: 

"  If  Decker  deckt  with  discipline  and  wit, 
Gain'd  praises  by  the  Bell-man  that  he  writ; 
Or  laud  on  Braihwait  waiting  did  abound  j 
When  a  Strappado  for  the  devill  he  found ; 
Then  may  this  Mill  of  Mills,  by  right  of  merit, 
Equall  (if  not  superior)  fame  inherit." 
— "  Rob.  Newton"  says  to  the  looker  on  of  "  his  judicious 
friend,"  if  ought  displease,  "'tis  not  because   'tis  bad,  but 
you  are  queasie." — "  Ro.  T.  bospitii  Lincoln."  discovered  in 
the  face  of  "  his  friend"  the  "  perfect  lines  of  itigenuitie." — 
"  Robert  Chamberlain"  for  "  his  very  good  friend,"  says; 

•■'  Put  down  your  clubs,  ye  constables  that  catch 
The  leather-winged  bats:  and  you  the  watch, 
Go  stumble  home,  what  needs  a  rusty  bill, 
A  Welch-hooke,  or  a  halbert?  here's  a  Mill, 
That  apprehends  more  panders,  punks  and  knaves. 
Than  all  the  beadles  with  their  paini  ed  staves." 

•r~"  Bar.  Pigot"  advises  the  '^  well-deserving"  author  not  to 
be  discourag'd  though 

"  Meere  flashy  poems  best  acceptance  finde 
With  ppen  to  novels  of  the  times  inclin'd." 

-^'^  Tho.  Collett,"  from  the  rich  conceits  of  "  his  friend,'" 
pronounces  his  the  "  epick  line,"—''  Richard  Broome"  has  a 
long  poem,  wherein  he  observes 

"  Which  of  the  ancient  poets  (with  rev'rence  still 
Be't  spoke)  pn  vices  has  out-wrote  our  Mill  ? 
Or  of  the  moderne  busie  ones  who  sweeter 
Can  grinde  so  many  mischiefs  into  meeter? 
Write,  write  a  pace,  all  you  that  boast  to  be 
Traders  jn  poetry,  prentices,  or  free, 
In  praise  of  this  rare  artist  j  that  the  earth 
May  be  prepar'd  to  welcom  this  great  birth : 
This  new  booke  of  abuses  whipt,  and  stript. 
Which  o're  the  wither'd  old  ones  head  have  skipt :  * 
And  by  its  superexcellency  undone 
That  which  was  call'^  the  bel-xnan  too  of  London." 

*  Time  has  reversed  this  criticispi ;  the  "  ivitiex.'d.  old  one"  is 
known  generally,  and  our  anthor  only  partially. 

<'  Jo. 


33^ 

• — "  Jo.  Wilson,  Interloris  Templi,"  joins  this  troop  of  wor- 
thies to  have  a  name  in  "  th'  list  ot  admirers." — "  Th'o.  N." 
tells  the  autjiour  for  his  worthy  workj 

"  I  wish  I  conld  dispose  it,  thou  shouldst  bee 
Master  of  Bridewell,  I  so  honour  thee,'' 

—"  Eliah  Palmer,  Londinensis,"  declares  "  each  verse  a  rap- 
ture is,  and  every  word  a  speaking  sentence." — "  Philip  Qham- 
pernowne,  Medii  Templi,"  ■  who  loves  "  no  flattery  the  world 
can  tell,"  asserts  the  vers^  "  may  please  the  best  of  wits." — 
"  The.  Gittyijs,  Intcrioris  Templi,"  concludes  his  praise  and 
poem  with 

"  My  candle's  out,  now  J  can  write  no  more." 

This  long  poem  is  divided  into  fifty- eight  sections,  and 
is  replete  with  stories  arising  in  brothels,  from  the  adven- 
tures of  prostitutes,  or  panders.  However  the  aim  and 
morality  of  the  author  are  manifest  in  every  relation,  and 
his  attempt  to  check  the  preponderating  influence  of 
loose,  vicious,  and  depraved  characters,  mingling  wj^h 
the  better  classes  of  society,  meritorious ;  yet  his  muse, 
from  continual  recurrence  to  disgusting  and  iniquitous 
scenes,  thoiigh  formed  as  a  prelude  to  pious  admonition, 
would  not  now  be  commonly  tolerated.  The  first  section 
is  one  of  the  least  exceptionable,  and  may  be  selected 
to  exemplify  the  author's  preface. 

f*  The  character  of  a  modest,   wise  Poet,  with  some 
touches  by  the  way  at  his  opposites ;  his^  happy  end, 

"  The  true  borne  poet,  that  doth  bend  his  quill 
To  scan  the  world,  and  tinding  out  the  ill. 
Provides  a  cure;  and  still  it  is  his  care 
To  launce  the  sore,  that  others  may  beware; 
He's  temperate,  wise,  and  modest,  he  will  sit 
In  company  to  pollish  ore  the  wit. 
He's  harmlesse  in  his  life;  no  person,  place 
Are  hid  from  his  conceits  :  he  shewes  that  face 
That's  most  obscur'd  :  his  genius  and  his  pen 
May  make  you  think  his  spirit  lives  irrraen, 
He's  like  a  little  world ;  for  all  things  there 
Obtaine  a  being  in  their  proper  spheare. 
All  men  do  meet  in  him;  his  searching  art 
Sucks  in  the  sweet,  and  crearae  of  every  part; 
Gull,  knave,  or  foole;  before  he'll  let  him  passe,^ 
][ie'll  Icarne  the  true  character  of  an  asse. 

«9 


33^ 

He  sets  out  sin  (most  lively)  black  as  hell, 
To  fright  men  from  the  bait ;  he  can  as  vreW 
Display't  in  parts,  or  grosse,  or  both  oi-  either, 
(Though  sin  and  he  were  never  bred  together) 
As  well  as  any  curious  painter  can 
The  fashion  of  a  landskip  or  a  man. 
The  guilty  man  may  read  his  sin,  his  shame^ 
And  call  it  his,  although  there's  not  his  natne: 
But  vertue  in  her  beauty  he  hath  knowne^ 
He  makes  all  sure,  and  takes  her  for  his  owne : 
Then  spreads  her  beauty,  that  the  world  jnay  see 
Shee's  lovely  in  her  selfe ;  and  all  may  be 
Corivals  in  this  match ;  for  she  will  do 
Favours  to  men,  and  yet  be  modest  too. 

He  is  a  maker,  not,  alone  of  verse. 
But  of  the  matter  too  j  be  doth  rehearse 
Much  substar.ce  iu  a  word ;  he  can  compose 
His  lofty  fancies,  or  in  verse,  or  prose: 
But  if  in  verse,  how  smoothly  doth  it  glide 
Into  the  heart  ?  the  memory  beside 
Betaines  it  best :  his  raptures  do  translate 
The  mindes  of  some  into  a  happy  state. 
His  numbers  with  his  measures  do  agree ; 
The  accents  meet  with  such  sweet  harmony :     . 
The  emphasis  is  raised  with  such  grace. 
That  all  concurs  to  keep  both  time  and  place. 
Good  language  in  his- lines  he  doth  expresse. 
His  couplings  joyne  with  sense;  he  is  no  lesse 
Than  heire  to  Parnassus:  h'had  such  a  draught 
At  Helicon,  that  be  is  rightly  taught 
To  speake  the  native  tone  of  all  the  nine  j 
But  courts  Vrania,  ''cause  she  is  divine. 

What  ere  his  measures  are,  or  short,  or  long; 
Lyricks,  or  Saphicks;  if  he  frames  his  song 
larnbique  like,  or  if  pentameters. 
Or  double  meeters,  or  hexameters  j 
Or  if  he  pitch  upon  heroick  straines; 
'Tvvjll  speak  his  praise,  because  his  season'd  braines 
Cast  out  no  drosse;  he's  modest  in  his  line; 
What  ere  his  subject  be,  his  worth  will  shine. 

True  profit  and  delight  do  meet  together 
}n  his  conceits :  although  the  foole  findes  neither. 
His  lines  are  stor'd  with  witty  usefull  pleasure ; 
I'hough  idiots  sleight,  wise  men  will  prize  his  treasure. 
His  company  is  sweet  to  those  that  know 
^ow  to  make  use  on't ;  but  he'll  seldomc  throw 


333 

His  breath  away  upon  a  scornfull  asse; 

A  brute  he  came,  and  so  he'll  let  him  passe. 

He  takes  nor  fables,  nor  conceited  dreams. 
Nor  idle  fictions  to  make  up  his  theanies  ; 
Yet  he  will  use  them,  onely  to  allude 
To  good,  or  illj  to  shame  the  multitude. 
If  melancholy,  then  he's  wise,  and  grave  ; 
Griefe,  sorrow,  death,  are  subjects  he  will  have 
To  work  upon ;  he  gives  his  words  by  weight; 
With  vaine  delights  he's  quite  out  of  conceit. 

If  he  be  pleasant,  all  his  writings  tend 
To  take  men  with  delight :  he  will  commend 
A  little  good,  to  make  'em  love  the  rest : 
He's  sad  'mongst  bad  men,  merry  with  the  best. 
He'll  dash  an  evill  out  of  favour,  then 
He'll  let  it  blood,  but  comfort  up  the  men. 
He  slights  the  world,  nor  will  he  ever  be 
A  favorite  to  prodigahtie. 

He's  free  to  all,  regarding  not  his  store. 

And  that's  the  reason  he  is  often  poore. 

He  hates  lascivious  rimes,  he'll  not  applaud 

A  faire  fgc'd  whore,  nor  yet  the  common  bawd. 

But  whip  'eni  still ;  for  he  will  ever  prie 

In  secret  places  where  most  dangers  lie. 

He's  noble-minded  (not  a  sordid  elfe) 

He  strives  to  know,  and  to  enjoy  himselfe. 
Nor  will  he  flatter  great  ones  for  a  fee. 

Whose  worth  lies  in  their  wealth  j  for  such  as  he 

Are  able  to  discerne:  nor  will  he  fawne 

Vpon  his  patrons  (laying  truth  to  pawnc 

In  every  line)  unlesse  in  him  he  finde 

An  honest  heart  grac'd  with  a  noble  minde  : 

Not  like  a  temporizer,  who  will  hold 

Pace  with  his  vices,  onely  for  his  gold. 

Who  scribles  much,  and  shameful!  praise  doth  gaine ; 

T'had  better  bin  undone  j  for  time  will  staine 

His  name  for  ever :  most  men  do  detest 

All  verses  for  his  sake ;  but  yet  the  rest 

Are  ne're  the  worse;  for  such  this  time  I  borrow : 

I  have  digress'd,  I'le  speak  of  him  to  morrow.      '^ 
But  this  ingenious  poet  doth  rehearse 

Things  as  they  are,  or  should  be ;  and  his  verso 

Not  stuft  with  clouded  words,  or  conjuring  straines. 

Nor  thunder  claps,  which  might  distract  the  braines 

Of  hpnest  readers ;  but  in  tearmes  most  fit 

T'  expresse  his  matter,  and  to  teach  them  wit. 

He 


334 

He  doth  refine  conceits,  and  raise  them  higher. 
His  masique's  next  unto  the  angels  quire. 
Nor  doth  he  spin  it  thred-bare  j  he'll  begin 
New  fancies  as  he  goes;  the  spring  within 
Runs  alwayes  fresh  :  he  doth  not  trade  abroad 
With  borrowed  wit,  nor  tread  the  beaten  road. 

His  genius  works  when  other  men  do  sleepe; 
His  aimes  are  heavenly,  and  his  judgements  deepe. 
He's  humble  still;  you  cannot  make  him  know 
His  owne  desert ;  he's  not  a  roan  for  show; 
He  doth  not  search  for  praise,  (he  loaths  all  such) 
He  thinks  he's  simple,  though  he  knows  so  much. 

But  yet  to  shew  the  vilenesse  of  that  brood 
That  doe  prefer  their  humours,  hate  all  good, 
Hee'll  baffle  such  men,  and  he  scorns  the  nest 
Of  venom  coupled  sots :  silence  is  best 
To  answer  such  back-biters :  he  will  slight 
Detracting  vassals  that  will  vomit  spight 
At  what  they  know  not,  and  will  look  asquint 
On  things  of  worth ;  what  ere  has  most  worth  in't 
They  slubber  most  with  gall;  in  all  that's  evill 
They'll  goe  as  far,  and  be  as  like  the  deviil. 
As  all  their  wit  can  make  them  :  oh  !  but  then 
They'll  fall  with  shame  before  the  poets  pen. 
Though  they  like  Xerxes  whip  the  sea,  and  send 
A  challenge  to  the  fails ;  yet  in  the  end 
The  sea's  too  strong,  the  mountaines  are  too  high 
For  fooles  to  clamber  :  so  like  fooles  they  die. 

This  honest  poet  finds  among  the  wise 
His  due  respect ;  for  they  have  learn'd  to  prize 
Persons,  and  things  of  worth :  and  still  his  bent 
Is  how,  to  shame  the  vile,  and  give  content 
To  all  the  best.     Come,  take  him  as  you  find  him; 
Hee'll  think  of  you,  though  you  doe  never  mind  him, 
Turne  all  his  verse  to  prose,  it  beares  the  sense 
And  lustre  of  a  poem  :  and  from  thence 
True  worth  doth  spring.     The  poets  first  did  teach 
Humanitie  to  men,  made  up  the  breach. 
That  rudenesse  made ;  all  usefuU  arts  were  cloath'd 
With  poets  wit:  why  should  it  then  be  loath'd  ? 

The  learned'st  in  the  languages,  rehearse 
Much  of  the  sacred  text  was  writ  in  verse: 
As  some  of  Moses  law,  the  Psalnies,  the  Song 
Of  Solomon,  the  holy  peoples  wrong, 
Vnder  their  foes,  by  leremy  related; 
The  booke  of  lob,  and  all  the  songs  were  stated 

I»        Is 


335 

In  measur'd  meeters ;  who  would  verse  disdaine. 
When  poets  have  such  patterns  for  their  straine! 
He  that's  drainatick,  and  doth  purge  the  stage 
From  scurrill  drosse-,  and  sliewes  this  simple  age 
Their  moulded  trophies ;  and  doth  always  strive 
To  keep  both  persons  names,  and  things  alive. 
His  end  is  good ;   but  idiots  learne  by  this 
How  to  contrive  their  ways  :   to  do  amisse 
Some  there  conclude  (of  late  I  heard  one  say) 
I  must  go  meet  a  whore  at  such  a  play. 
What  pity  'tis  such  time,  with  wit,  and  cost 
Should  be  bestow'd,  and  prove  but  labour  lost! 
This  was  invented  chiefly  to  be  us'd 
By  Kings  and  Nobles,  not  to  be  abus'd 
By  hackney  truls:  but  now  I  must  returne 
To  layiriy  honest  poet  in  his  nrne: 
For  having  spent  his  time  well,  now  h'as  past . 
His  life  to  death;  the  hungry  grave  at  last 
Is  clos'd  upon  him;  therehe  must  abide 
Vntill  his  jflst  and  happy  cause  be  try'd." 

"  His  Epitaph. 

"  You'solHd'stones,  incite  the  gentle  dust 

To  guard  this  man  of  worth,  that's  buried  here  j 
He  is  a  jewell,  left  unto  your  trust, 

'Till  he  in 'glory,  gloriously  appeare. 
Though  saacie  death  hath  laid  biiii  in  this  grave. 
His  name's  alive,  and  living  praise  shall  have." 

At  the  close  of  the  volume  are  two  more  recommen- 
datory poems  subscribed,  "  Tho.  Philips,"  and  "  C.  G. 
Interioris  Templi."  J.  H. 


^  The  second  part  of  the  Nighf  s  Search :  Discovering 
the  condition  of  the  various  Fowles  of  Night.  Or  the 
second  great  Mystery  of  Iniquity  exactly  revealed: 
with  the  projects  oj'  these  times.  In  fe  poem,  iy  Hum- 
phrey Mill,  author  of  the  Nights  Search. 
•■  Node  patent  menda. 
•  Audax  omnia  perpeti," 

Gens  humana  ruit  per  vetilum  nefas. 
Imprimatur.  Nath  Brent.  London, printed  for  Henry 
Shepheard  and  William  Ley,  and  are  to  he  sold  at  the 
Bible  in  Tower-street,  and  at  Pauls  Chaine  neer  Doc- 
tors Commons.  1646.  Oct.  p,  164. 

Dedicated 


30 

Dedicated  to  tlobert.  Earl  of  Warwick,  with  an  address  *'  fo 
the  intelligent  reader,"  concluding  : 

"  I  have  somwhat  else  to  follow  than  this  unthrifty  science, 
but  as  well  for  my  own  recreation,  as  for  thy  good  I.  have 
bent  myselfe  to  discover  this  mystery  of  iniquitie,  which  may 
be  usefuUto  all  sorts  of  persons,  young  and  old,  good  and  bad. 
It  is  somwhat  against  my  nature  to  plead  excuse  or  crave  par- 
don for  what  I  have  writ :  to  shew  that  I  am  a  free-man,  not 
a  slave  for  any  man's  humour,  I  intend  no  ill:  if  taken  ill  by 
any,  let  it  rest  with  him;  if  I  purchase  thy  good  word  particu- 
larly, and  a  reformation  generally,  I  shall  obtaine  my  ends. 
Good  night. 

"  All  those  that  would  these  lines  digest. 
Must  read  'em  over  twice  at  least: 
Observe  the  ppynts,  how  sense  doth  meet. 
The  accents,  cadence,  and  the  feet; 
The  humble  ebbs  and  swelling  hopes 
Of  figures,  epithetes,  and  tropes." 

Addresses  from  the  author  "  to  all  Judges,  Justices, 
Church  Wardens,  Constables,  tec."  and  "  to  the  Fowler 
of  Night."     Complimentary  lines  from  ''  Ed,w.  Peyton, 
Knight  and\Biaronet,"  tellipg  his  frieii4 
"  To  him  is  given  so  large  a  grant> 

Each  of  the  Nine  shall  be  his  auntl 

Whose  cherub-muse  hath  wing  alone 

To  fetch  that  ore  from  Helicon  : 

Pride  of  the  tongue,  from  Peru  shore. 

The  words  rich  ingots,  subject  poore." 

From  "Tho.  Perrin,  Knight,"  to  "  his  ingenious 
friend,"  declaring  there  could  not  henceforth  be  an 
eclipse  as  he  had  "  made  the  welkin  free" — Address  from 
fhe  author  "  to  the  degenerate  Nobility  and  new  foi^nd 
Gentry."—"  Will.  Scot,  Gent."  to  his  "  industWous 
and  quick-sighted  friendw"-^"  Hen.  Limbruke,  Mr.  of 
Arts,  Cam."  tells  "  his  worthy  friend,"  his"  Work  shall 
be  prais'd,  pleasing,  honour'd  to  posteritie." 

This  continuation  is  divided  into  twenty-six  sections ; 
but  the  labours  of  the  author,  his  subject,  and  manner, 
have  too  slight  a  variance  from  the  preceding  part  to  re- 
quire an  additional  extract. 

J.  H. 

.  T.  fiensley,  Printer, 
Bolt  Court,  Fleet-street,  London^ 


1Sriti0l)  35ibliosrapf)ec. 


N°  IX. 


ll  A  Banquet  of  Daintie  Conceits.  Furnished  wit/i 
verie  delicate  &  choyse  inuentions,  to  delight  their 
mindes,  who  take  pleasure  in  Musique,  &  therewithall 
to  sing  sweete  Ditties,  either  to  the  Lute,  Bandora, 
Virginalles,  or  anie  other  instrument.  Published  at 
the  desire  of  lothe  Honorable  &  JVorshipfull  Person- 
ages, who  haue  had  copies  of  diners  of  the  Ditties 
herein  contained.  Written  by  A.  M.  Seruaunt  to 
the  Queenes  most  excellent  Maiestie.  Honos  alit 
artes.  At  London,  Printed  by  I.  C.  for  Edwarde 
White,  &  are  to  be  sold  at  the  signe  of  the  Gunne,  at 
the  little  North  doore'  of  Paules,  Anno  1588.  4to. 
[not  paged,  goes  to  Sign.  J.  iii.]-  , 

It  was  intended  to  have  introduced  in  this  place  a  Me- 
moir of  Anthony  Munday,  the  author  of  this  very 
rare  book ;  but  as  little  could  be  found,  in  addition  to 
the  article  regarding  hirn  in  the  Biographia  Dramatica, 
it  has  been  thought  that  these  pages  will  be  better  filled 
by  an  account  of  a  publication  unknown  to  Ritson,  Ames, 
Herbert,  and  other  typographical  antiquaries. 

"  The  Epistle  Dedicatorie. 

"  To  the  Worshlpfull  &  his  especiall  good  freend,  Maister 
Richard  TopclifFe,  Esquire,  A,  M.  commendeth  this  small 
motion  of  his  unfeigned  good  will  &  affection. 

"  In  respecte  of  the  manifolde  good  tnrnes,  &  fauourable 

deedes  of  freendsbip,  that  not  onely  I,  but  others,  to  whom  I 

TOL,  II.  z  am 


am  somewhat  beh,olding,  have  receiued  at  your  Worshipped 
handes,  albeit  my  dishabilitie  will  not  permit  me  to  make 
aunswerable  requitall,  yet  such  is  the  estimation  I  make  of  my 
duetie,  that  fayling  in  that  1  would,  I  will,  reraaine  ready  in 
any  thing  I  may:  not  that  your  Worshippe  hath  any  neede'of 
mee  or  mine.but  for  I  would  bee  lothe  that  ingratitude  should 
so  much  insult  uppon  roe,  as  neither  deedes  nor  duetiesshoulde 
remaine  to  him,  who  hath  so  well  deserued.  I  will  therefore 
containe  the  mind  that  poor  Irus  did,  who  comming  into  the 
temple  of  the  goddesse  Pallas,  &  seeing  her  to  holde  a  books 
in  the  one  hand,  &  a  launce  in  the  other,  made  as  great  account 
of  her  secrete  vertues,  as  her  outward  valliauncie :  &  therefore 
sayd,  Despitefull  Povertie,  thou  shall  not  keepe  me  from  honour- 
ing Pallas,  though  thou  witholdest  me  from  giving  her  presents.^ 
Euen  so  worshipfull  syr,  though  the  world  sofrowne  vpon  mc, 
that  I  cannot  as  I  woulde:  yet  that  poore  talent  which  Ged 
hath  lent  me  (if  it  were  sufficient  for  so  many  courtesies) 
shall  at  all  times  expresse,  that  I  am  loth  to  be  vnthankfull.  I 
therefore  desire  your  Worshyppe  to  accept  of  thys  slender  gift, 
which  measured  in  your  wonted  freendlie  judgment,  I  doubt 
not  but  shall  spcede  according  to  my  expectation,  &  the 
rather,  for  that  there  is  nothing  heerein  contayned,  that  may 
cyther  offend  the  vertuous,  or  giue  any  encouragement  to  the 
vicious  :  for  if  there  were  any  such  matters,  they  shoulde  neuer 
come  in  your  Worshippes  view. 

"  Not  doubting  therefore,  but  to  find  your  Worshyppe  as  I 
alwayes  haue  doone,  I  committe  you  to  the  continuall  protec- 
tion of  the  Almightie,  who  defende  you  from  all  your  enemies, 
&  blesse  you  in  remembering  the  labours  of  them  that  haue 
well  deserued. 

Your  Worship's  poore 
Freende  to  commaund, 

Anthony  Monday." 

"  To  the  gentle  S^  freendlie  Reader. 

"  Before  thou  readest  this  small  trauaile  of  mine,  (gentle 
Header)  lama  little  to  admonish  thee,  least  otherwise  thou 
maist  happen  to  fal  out  of  loue  with  my  booke,  &  so  thinke  it 
not  woonhy  the  reading.  Fyrst,  thou  art  to  consider,  that  the 
ditties  heerein  contained,  are  made  toseuerall  set  notes,  wherein 
no  measure  of  verse  can  be  obserued,  because  the  notes  will 
aflborde  no  such  libertie:  for  looke  how  they  rise  &  fall,  in 
just-  time  &  order  of  musique,  euen  so  have  I  kept  course 
therewith  in  making  the  Ditties,  which  will  seeme  very  bad 

stuffe 


339 

stufFe  in  reading,  but  (I  perswade  me)  wyll  delight  fhee,  when 
thou  singest  any  of  them   to  thine  Instrument.     Secondlie, 
though  thou  finde  them  not  sette  downe  in  excellent  verse,  as 
perhaps  many  are  curious  in  sifting  such  matters,  yet  I  am 
sure  ihou  shaltfind  in  them  sence  sufficient,  and  matter  «'oorih 
the  reading:  though  not  fantasticall,  and  full  of loue  quirks 
and  quiddities,  yet  stored  with  good  admonitions  and  freendly 
documents,  so  canst  thou  not  say,  that  there  is  neither  rime 
nor  reason  in  them,  but  if  thou  marke  them  wel,  thou  shalt 
find  both.     Lastly,  if  any  dittie  shall  chaunce  to  lympe  a  little 
in  the  note  (as  I  do  not  know  that  any  one  of  them  dootb,  be- 
cause they  haue  been  tryed  by  them  of  iudgement,  and  those 
that  haue  not  a  little  esteemed  of  them)  yet  I  pray  thee  con- 
demne  mee  not,  in  that  I  haue  no  iote  of  knowledge  in  mnsique, 
but  what  I  haue  doone  and  doo,  is  only  by  the  eare :  for  had 
I  skill  in  rausique,  they  should  haue-  been  farre  better  then 
th^y  be.  But  I  thank  God  of  that  which  I  haue,  it  is  not  for 
euery  man  to  go  to  Corinth,  therefore  I  content  myselfe  with 
that  poore  talent  which  I  haue, 
&  which  is  thine  to  commaundj 
so  thou  entertaine  my  labours 
with  courtesie.     Farewell. 
Thine  to  vse  in  friendship, 

A.  MtJNDAY." 

Contents, 

K  "  A  Dyttie  expressing  a  familiar  controversie  between 
Wit  and  Will:  wherein  Wit  mildlie  rebuketh  the  follies 
of  Will,  &  sheweth  him  (as  in  a  ghssse)  the  fall  of  wilfull 
heads. 

This  Ditlie  may  le  sung  qfter  the  note  of  a  court-lie  daunce, 
called  Les  Guanto. 

2.  A  Dittie  declaring  the  vncertaintie  of  our  earthly  honor, 
the  certaine  account  that  we  must  all  make  of  death,  and 
therefore  that  we  should  make  ourselues  ready  at  all  times,  be- 
cause we  are  ignorant  of  our  latter  howre. 

This  Dittie  is  sung  after  a  very  pretty  set  note,.which  is  called 
Primer  0. 

3.  In  this  Dittie  is  expressed  the  sundry  and  daily  mis- 
haps that  chaunce  in  loue  :  deciphered  by  him  that  felt  them, 
to  his  paine. 

This  Ditty  is  sung  to  Johnson's  Medley. 

4.  A  Dittye  which  sheweth  by  example  of  diuers  worthy 
,  personages  past  in  auncient  time,  that  neither  strength,  wit> 

z  2  beauty. 


34<i 

bevluly,  riches,  or  any  transitory  things  (wherein  worldling^ 
put  any  confidence)  can  saue  them  from  the  stroke  of  death. 

This  Bittie  may  be  sung  to  ave'cy  gallant  note,  called  the  Earle 
bf  Oxenfords  March. 

5.  A  Dittie,  delivering  a  freendlye  admonition  to  Women, 
tohaue  care  oftheyr  own  estates,  to  shunne  such  vaine  occa- 
sions, as  oftentimes  call  tbeyr  good  names  in  question:  and 
after  the  example  of  Sara,  to  order  theraseiues  in  all  their 
actions. 

T/lis  Dittie  is  sung  to  a  pleasaunt  new  note,  called  Monsieures 
Allemaigne. 

6.  A  Dittie,  wherein  may  be  seene  by  many  and  sundry 
examples,  that  no  man  ought  to  giiie  ouer-much  credite  to 
this  fraile  and  transitorie  life:  but  as  all  other  things  snon  vade 
and  decay,  so  the  life  of  man  hath  no  greater  assurance. 

T/iis  Dittie  is  sung  after  the  note  of  the  flat  Pauin,  which  is 
played  in  Consorte. 

7.  A  Dittie,  wherein  is  contained  a  very  proper  discourse, 
of  a  certain  welthy  Merchaunt,  who  forgetting  his  profile,  gave 
his  mind  to  pleasure. 

This  Dittie  may  be  sung  after  a  pleasant  newe  note,  called 
Prima  visto. 

8.  In  this  Dittie  is  set  downe  the  morrall  iudgment  of  the 
great  and  leariied  philosopher  Sendelar,  on  the  storie  before 
passed ;  which  will  be  found  both  worth  the  reading  and  re- 
gardiner. 

This  Dittie  may  le  sung  to  the  newe  Scottish  Allemaigne. 

g.  A  Ditiie,  wherein  is  contained  diueis  good  and  neces- 
sary documents,  which  being  embraced  and  followed  earnestly, 
may  cause  a  man  to  shunne  manie  euilles  and  mischaunces, 
that  may  otherwise  full  vpon  him,  ere  he  can  beware. 

This  Dilty  may  be  sung  to.  the  high  Allemaigne  Measure, 
singing  euery  last  straine  twise  icith  the  Musicque. 

10.  A  pleasaunt  Dittie,  wherein  is  described  what  falsehood 
oftentimes  is  found  in  felowship,  verified  by  a  couetous  minded 

■  man,  who  laboured  to  deceiue  his  deere  freende,  but  yet  de- 

ceiued  himselfe  in  the  ende.  > 

Thb  Ditiie  may  be  sung  to  the  note  of  the  Spanish  Pauin. 

11.  A  Dittie,  wherein  the  breuity  of  mans  life  is  described, 
how  soone  his  pompe  vanisheth  away,  and  he  brought -to  his 
latest  home. 

This  Ditty  may  be  s:oig  to  the  Venetian  Allemaigne. 

12.  A  Dittie,  discoursing  the  communication  betweenc 
Christ  and  the  woman  oi  Samaria  that  came  to  drawe  water  at 
Jacobs  VI eW,  according  as  is  sette  downe  in  the  4  chapter  of 
5ainfeIohn. 

This  Ditiie  may  be  sung  to  the  note  of  Deeme  all  my  deedes. 

13. 


341 

-  13..  Of  the  three  wiss  sentences,  which  three  yong  men  of 
the  Guarde  of  King  Darius  presented  to  him.  The  firit  said, 
Wine  is  strongest.  The  second  said,  The  King  is  strongest. 
The  third  said,  Women  are  strongest,  but  Truth  overcometh 
all  things.  The  first  that  spake  of  the  strength  of  Wine,  began 
to  proove  his  argument  first  as  foloweth,  according  as  it  is 
written  in  the  thiid  and  fourth  chap,  of  Esdras. 
Wine  is  STROtfGEST. 
This  Ditty  may  he  sung  to  the  Quadrant  Galliard. 

14.  The  second  man,  who  spake  of  the  strength  of  the 
King,  after  his  Fellow  had  ended,  begunne  to  declare  his 
minde. 

The  Kino  is  strongest. 
This  Ditty  may  he  mng  to  the  Maskers  ALlemaigne  commonly 
called  the  aide  Allemaigne. 

15.  Then  the  third,  whose  sentence  was,  that  Women  were 
strongest,  but  Tructh  ouercommeth  all  things,  &  whose  name 
was  Zerobabell,  began  to  speake  as  followeth  : 

Women  ake  strongest  :  but  Trueth  ouercommeth  all  things. 
This  Ditty  may  be  sung  ciftcr  the  note  of  the  Queenes  Maies- 
ties  new  Hunt  is  vp. 

16.  A  Glasse  for  all  men  to  behold  themselues  in,  especially 
such  proude  &  prodigall  minded  men,  &  such  delicate  &  dain- 
tie  women  who  building  on  the  pride  of  their  beautie,  &  amiable 
complexion,  thinke  scorne  to  become  aged,  &  that  their  sweete 
faces  should  be  wrinckled,  or  their  youthfulnes  brought  into 
sqbieciion  hy  age. 

This  Ditty  may  he  sung  to  the  Earl  of  Oxenford's  Galliard. 

17.  A  Uitty,  wherein  is  expressed  a  notable  example  of  a 
slothfull  man,  who  wilfully  suffered  himselfe  to  be  robbed,  & 
dyspoiled  of  his  goods  by  slothfulness,  which  otherwise  he 
might  very  well  have  saued. 

This  Dittie  may  he  sung  to  Dowland's  Galliard. 

18.  A  Dittie,  wherein  may  be  discerned  the  troublesome 
daungers,  &  uneasie  passages  in  this  woild:  exampled  by  a 
very  proper  discourse  of  a  Trauailer  in  his  iourney,  bow  many 
&  sundry  mischaunces  ha-ppened  vnto  him. 

This  Dittie  may  he  sung  to  the  Cou7itesse  of  Ormonds  GaU 
Hard. 

19.  In  this  Dittie  is  renealed  the  morrall  iudgment  of  this 
notable  &  excellent  History,  sette  downe.  by  the  famous  8r 
learned  philosopher  Tyahonus :  wherein  may  be  scene  the 
very  full  course  &  wretched  race  of  man  in  this  transitory  life. 

this  Ditty  may  he  sung  to  Wigmores  Galliard.  . 
5Q,  A  Dittie,   wherein  is  liuely  &  amply  described,   the 
z  3  Mansion 


343 

Mansion  or  Castell  of  vaine  exercisss  &  delights,  which  being 
maintained  by  Pride,  Prodigalitie,  Lust>  Ambition,  Contempt 
of  Virtue,  &  such  other,  is  the  ouertlirow  of  many  that  resorte 
.  thither,  rather  then  to  vertuous  studies  &  exercises.^ 

Thif  Dittie  may  le  sung  to  the  note  of  La  Vechia  P.auin. 

21.  A  Dittie,  wherein  the  Author  giveth  his  farewell  to 
Fancie,  hauing  learned  the  auncifnt  prouerbe,  that  it  is  good 
to  take  warning  by  other  mens  misfortunes. 

This  Ditty  may  he  sung  to  A.  Munday  his  Galliard. 

22.  A  pleasant  Dittie,  of  a  familiar  comnnunlcation,  that 
passed  betweene  certaine  Ladies,  as  they  walked  abroade  into 
the  fields,  for  their  reci-eation  :  wherein  is  proved,  that  Beautie 
is  nothing  worth,  except  it  be  coupled  with  vertue. 

This  Ditly  may  be  su?ig  to  A-  Munday  his  Toy. 
Finis. 

^  The  seconde  seruice  of  this  Banquet  (uppon  the  gentle  i^ 
good  receit  of  this  JirslJ  I  will  verie  shortli-e  publish,  wherein  is 
manie  excellent  Ditties,  isf  such  as  I  doubt  not  hut  thou  wilt 
well  esteems  of" 

I  shall  now  only  give  the  following  specimen  from  this 
rare  book. 

"  No.  2.  A  Dittie  declaring,  the  vnceriaintie  of  our 
earthly  honor,  the  certain  account  that  ive  must  all 
make  of  death :  and  therefore  that  we  should  make 
our  sckies  ready  at  all  times,  because  we  are  igno- 
rant of  our  latter  howre. 

This  Dittie  is  sung  after  a  very  pretty  set  note,  which, 
is  called  Primer o. 

"  What  state  so  sure  but  time  subuerts  ? 
what  pleasure  that  is  voide  of  paine? 
'  What  cheerefull  change  of  former  smarts, 
but  turnes  straitwaie  to  griefe  againe. 
What  credite  may  a  man  repose, 

uppon  so  frail  a  clod  of  cla)' : 
Which  as  to  daie  in  sollace  goes, 

to-morrow  is  bi ought  to  earthly  bay. 
Think  O  man 
How  thy  glas?e  is  daily  sette  to  runne: 
And  how  thy  life  shall  passe  when  it  is  doone. 
Thy  giaue  hath  then  t"hy  glory  wun, 
j|Vnd  all  thy  pompe  in  cinders  laide  full  lowe  : 

Take. 


343 

Take  example 
By  the  fragrant  flower  in  the  field, 
Which  as  to  dale  in  brauery  is  beheld. 
The  parching  sun  hath  ouer-queld, 
O  wretched  man,  euen  thou  thy  selfe  art  so. 

Howe  then  ? 
How  canst  thou  bragge,  or  canst  thou  boast. 
How  that  thou  maiest. 
Or  that  thou  shalt 
Enioy  thy  life  untill  to-morrow  day : 

Thou  seest 
That  death  subdues  the  strength  of  Kings, 
Of  high  and  lowe 
Of  rich  and  poore. 

And  all  as  one  he  dooth  call  away. 
Tantara,  tantara,  tantara. 

Thus  dooth  the  trompet  sounde : 
The  bell  bids  prepare  a,  prepare  a,  prepare  a. 
Your  bodies  to  thq  ground. 
Even  so, 
While  we  are  sporting,  sporting,  sporting. 
Amidst  our  earnest  play. 
Death  commeth  stealing,  stealing,  stealing. 
And  takes  our  liues  awaie. 
To  goe. 
Put  on  yovir  black  aray,  for  needes  you  must  away. 

Unto  your  house  of  clay. 
Prepare  your  conscience  gay  against  the  dreadftiU  day 

That  you  may  be 
Christes  chosen  flocke  and  sheepe 
Whom  he  will  safely  keep. 
Whether  you  doo  wake  or  sleep, 
Then  shall  the  hellish  foe 
Away  in  terror  goe 
This  ioy  to  see. 
Remember  this  amidst  your  blisse. 
That  Christ  hath  redep.med  us  by  his  blood : 
Then  let  us  kill  our  affections  so  ill 
To  be  elected  his  seruaius  good. 
Then  shall  we  be  sure  for  aye  to  endure : 
On  Gods  right  hand  among  the  pure. 
When  as  the  ill  against  their  will. 
The  endlesse  paine  shalt  passe  untill. 
God  grant  us  feruent  constancie 
To  auoid  so  great  extremitic : 

z,  4  Th^t 


344 

That  by  his  grace  continuallic 
"We  may  pi^rcbase  heaven's  felicitic. 

Finis." 

T^ie  volume  has  wood-cuts  to  several  of  the  pieces. 


B. 


%  The  Pleasant  falls  of,  Hermaphrodihis  and  Sal- 
macis,  hy  T.  Peend,-  Gent.  PVith  a  morall  in  English 
Verse.  Anno  Domini  1565,  Me?ise  Decemhris.  [Title 
central  of  a  broad  metal  border.  Col. J  Imprinted 
at  London  in  Flelestreat  beneath  the  Conduyt,  at  the 
sygne  of  S.  John  Euangelyste,  ly  Thomas  Co,kuelL 
Oct.  24  leaves. 

Dedicated  '*  to  M.  Nycholas  Sentleger,  Esquyer.  When  I 
had  employed  some  time  in  translating  Ouids  Metamorphosis, 
.and  had  achyned  my  purpose  in  parte  therof,  intendyng  10  haue 
trauayled  further :  I  vnderstoode  that  another  had  preuented 
me.  And  so,  after  that  1  had  receyued  copyes  iherof,  from 
the  prynter,  I  was  resolued  to  stay  my  laboure,  &  to  reserue 
that  to  the  vse  and  behofe  of  my  pryu;  t  frend  :  whych  I  in- 
_te~ded  to  haiie  made  comen  to  euery  man.  How  be  it  because 
I  knowe  my  selfe  on  dyuers  causes  aleged  to  your  Worship, 
being  no  Jesse  lerned  your  selfe,  then  afft-ctioned  to  euery  co"- 
meiidable  faculty,  haiiyog  nothyng  more  fyt  at  this  tyme:  I 
thoughte  it  good  to  gratefye  yo^i  wyth  some  part  therof,  and 
that  not  aUouether  vnder  the  note  and  figure  according  to  the 
text:  apiyenge  also'  a  morall  to  the  fable.  And  because  it 
hath  pleased  you  vppon  youre  good  wyil,  rather  then  for  the 
worthynes  hereof,  to  accept  &  comend  my  copy e  in  wrytyng: 
I  am^  now  therefore  bold  to  pnblysh  it  in  prynte  vnder  the 
patronage  of  your  name.  The  rather  to  ame~d  the  volume  of 
thys  other  history.  And  thus  neither  my  first  labours  shall 
altogether  syncke:  nor  I  shall  seeme  to  abuse  the  wryter  or 
reader  of  those  fou're  bookes  of  Jileiamorphosis  whych  he  so 
learnedly  translated  all  red}  e.  Thus  yours  for  his  small  powre 
assured.  Wissheth  you  Galenes  health,  y=.  good  fortu~e  which 
Policrates  enioyed  for  the  most  parte  of  hys  life,  and  Nestors 
yeares,  T.  Peend,.  From  my  ehainber  oucr  agaynst  Sergeants 
Jt\ne  in  Chancery  lane,  1564, 

'    •  As, 


345 

As  a  specimen  of  the  translation  the  description  of  th« 
bathing  of  Hermaphroditus,  and  cold  reception  of  the  ad- 
vances made  by  Sahiiacis,  is  selected. 

"  He  geues  his  body  to  the  streames 

and  wadeth  to  and  fro. 
And  further  foorth  with  softely  foote 

he  doth  begyn  to  go : 
At  last  wyth  armes  out  stretched  hee 

hys  body  clene  doth  dyp 
By  swi~n)ing,  through  the  siluer  stremes 

hys  yuery  corps  doth  slyp. 
The  nimph  this  while  beholdyng  him, 

no  longer  then  could  staye. 
But  of  her  mantel  being  throwne, 

she  wold  leape  in  strayght  way. 
The  boy  apiyd  the  waues  doth  swym 

as  whyte  as  any  snowj 
No  swan  could  seme  more  whyte  the"  he 

that  euer  anysawe. 
The  Niniphe  her  hart  doth  pant  w'.  ioy, 

shee  scant  abydes  to  staye, 
Vntyll  her  garmentes  all  were  of, 

she  plyeth  so  her  praye. 
Euen  as  the  eger  mastyue  dogge, 

•whom  scant  hys  keper  sta'yes, 
But  at  the  bayted  beare  he  stryues 

for  to  be  gone  alwayes. 
Euen  as  the  hauke  doth  bate,  when  that 

shee  sees  the  partryge  sprongej 
So  Salmacis,  to  her  it  seemes 

Eche  tyme  it  is  to  longe,  , 

That  lets  her  from  the  pray :  but  loe, 

as  merry  as  a  pye. 
The  boy  doth  friske  and  play,  he  thyncks 

that  none  may  hym  espye. 
But  as  a  hare  within  her  fourrae, 

when  shee  doth  feare  no  ill ; 
The  hounde  is  on  her  sodeynlye, 

then  prest  the  foole  to  kyll. 
So  Salmacis  vnto  her  praye, 

into  the  water  goes ; 
As  though  that  then  for  al  the  worldc 

her  luste  she  wolde  not  lose, 
fJot  to  perswade  hym  how  she  meanes, 

51s  shee  dyd  erst  before^ 

But 


34^ 

%ii  noiV  sheys  pre»t  her  lust  to  sene, 

or  els  to  dye  therfore. 

She  it  to  folly  so  full  inclynde  : 
That  nothing  then  might  chaunge  her  mind, 
But  lo  the  boy,  as  soone  as  he 

dyd  theare  the  nymphe  espj', 
Euen  as  the  lytle  roche  vvyth  fynnes 

out  reched  fast  doth  flye. 
The  raueuyng  pyke  which  aftef  hym 

in  greater  bast  doth  hye : 
So  vp  and  dowue  the  springe  they  flete, 

the  one  hymselfe  to  saue, 
The  Nyfliph  her  ioy  by  spoyle  doth  seke 

of  tbotiier  for  to  haiie. 
The  flyghtfull  boy,  lyke  as  the  hare, 

for  iyfe  the  hoande  doth  flie. 
The  Nymphe  alwaies  euen  as  the  hou'd 

when  he  doth  come  so  nye. 
That  eue~  his  nose  may  touche  her  heles  c 

he  gyrdeth  foorth  amayne,    - 
With  gaping  mouth,  being  alwaies  like 

hys  pray  for  to  obteyne. 
The  Nimphe  dyd  dryue  him  vp  so  ueare 

that  euen  of  force  at  laste 
He  is  compel'd  for  to  resyste, 

and  stryue  for  hym  as  faste." 

In  the  moral  to  this  fable  poets  are  considered  in  plea- 
sant toys  to  shew  great  wisdom,  and  that  the  present 
bears  a  subtle  sense  only  perceived  by  few.  This  is  de- 
scanted on  as  the  effect  of  too  great  an  indulgence  in  the 
lascivious  amours  of  Venus  ;  a  vice,  that  taking  the 
strength  from  man,  makes  him  forego  his  nature:  the 
author's  muse  thus  far  understands  Ovid,  and  by  his 
pleasant  tale  no  further  sense  can  find.  The  poem  con- 
tinues with  no  other  division  then  a  new  capital  and  a 
change  of  the  head-line  of  the  page  from  "  a  morall  to 
the  fable/'  to  "  a  pleasaunt  question."     It  Qon>mencea 

"  Bvt  nowe  the  fletynge  fancyes  fonde 
and  eke  the  shuttle  wyttes: 
The  mad  desyres  of  women  now 
.   theyr  rage  in  folysh  fyts 
1  wyl  dysplay.     This  nymphe  y*.  boy 
'  dyd  for  hys  bewty  loue 


3^ 

FoT  euen  the  sodeyne  syght  of  hyru 

dyd  her  affectyon  moue. 
And  Eccho  shee  Narcissus  yonge 

euen  for  his  bewtyes  sake. 
Did  choose  amonge  all  other  youthen 

to  be  her  faythful  make. . . . . 
The  emperour  Othons  doughter  der» 

Adelasie  dyd  so 
Kfigarde  the  lyuely  Aleran 

that  she  wyth  hym  did  go 
To  countreys  straunge  :  content 

by  hazarde  of  her  iyfe, 
Agaynst  the  wyll  of  all  her  freinde* 

for  to  become  hys  wyfe. 
With  pryncelyke  lyf'e,  for  hym  alone 

an  empyre  she  wolde  lose. 
With  hym  to  leade  a  symple  Iyfe 

much  rather  she  dyd  chose. 
All  pleasures  in  the  worlde,  in  hym 

alone  she  then  dyd  take, 
Al  freindes,  for  hym  alone  also     - 

she  gladly  dyd  forsake; 
With  hym  for  nede  right  wel  she  was 

contented  coles  to  make  : 
Tp  couche  in  cotage  lowe 
qn  symple  foode  lo  fare; 
For  all  the  world,  excepted  hym, 
she  toke  no  kynde  of  care. 

He  was  her  blysse :  her  ioye  was  hc«, 
And  nothing  els  tstemed  she. 
And  Hero  favre  vnto  her  feare, 

Leander  fyne  dyd  take ; 
And  Thisbe  she  dyd  Jcyll  herselfe 

for  comely  Pirames  sake. 
Orestes  lyuely  lookes,  dyd  much 

Hermione  delyghte: 
King  Taucred's  doughter  Gysmond,  dyd 

loue  Guistardes  bewty  bryght. 
The  Nymphes  dyd  Hiacinthus  for 

hys  seemely  shape  desire : 
Hys  louely  chare,  ful  soone  did  set 

theyr  youthly  hartes  on  fyre. 
Arid  Juliet,  Romeus  yonge, 

for  bewty  did  imbrace. 
Yet  dyd  hys-manhode  well  agree, 
ynto  hys  worthy  grace. 


348 

So  seemely  shape  dyd  loue  jjrocure,  - 

And  Venuis  byrdes  came  to  the  .lure 

Such  be  ihe  fond  and  frantike  fits 

which  in  the  blinded  brayne 
Of  wiinton  women  often  times 

with  swinging  swey  doth  reigne. 
And  Venus  eke,  which  liked  so 

Adouis  lonely  grace. 
That  she  from  hym  wolde  not 

abide  in  anye  place. 

In  warlike  Mars  that  blody  knight. 
Sometime  also  she  did  delyght. 
Sith  shefor  comely  bewty  then, 

these  lustie  youthes  dyd  loLie, 
To  marry  with  Dame  lunoes  soiinej 

what  od  conceyt  did  moue 
Her  so,  to  serue  that  grislie  sire 

the  Copersmith  deformde; 
Whom  nature  neither  with  good  grace, 

nor  learni~g  had  adornd. 
But  euen  a  rude  &  boystrous  carle, 

whose  colour  in  his  face : 
A  Otoyden  sang  v^ine*  right  did  seme, 

this  is  a  doubtfuU  case. 
That  she  which  erst  did  seke  so  muchc 

forbewtyes  goodly  grace: 

*  "Croydon  sang  wine,"  appcirs  to  allude  to  the  town  of  Croy- 
den  in  Surry.  In  the  rare  collection  of  Songs  and  Sonnets  hj/ 
Patricke  Hannay,  Gent.  1622,  is  a  ballad,  containing  a  long  de- 
scription of  tliat  place  ;  where,  after  remarking  on  the  sterility 
of  the  surrounding  hills,  he  sajs  : 

"  In  midst  of  these  stands  Croydon  cloath'd  in  blacke. 
In  a  low  bottome  sinke  of  all  these  hills  : 
And  is  receipt  of  all  the  durtie  wracke. 
Which  from  their  tops  still  in  abundance  trils, 
The  vnpau'd  lanes  with  muddie  mire  it  fills  : 
If  one  shower  fall,  or  if  that  blessing  stay. 
You  may  well  smell,  but  neuer  see  your  way. 

And  those  who  there  inhabit  silting  well 
With  such  a  place  doe  either  Negro's  seeme. 
Or  harbingers  for  Pluto,  Prince  of  hell. 
Or  his  fire-beaters  one  might  rightly  deeme. 
Their  sight  would  make  a  soule  of  hell  to  dreanie, 
Beomeard  with  sut,  and  breathing  pitchie  sn;ioake, 
\/V^j,ch  (saue  themselues)  a  liuing  wight  would  choke." 


349. 

To  loue  Ac'ocis  faire  alone. 

shulde  seke  sometime  to  imbRice 
Syr  Vulcaiie,  with  his  brousie  poll, 
A  Smyth  whych  did  on  stythy,  towl. 


At  the  end  of  the  poem  "  T.  D.  Peend  :"*  then  follows 
a  short  account  of  the  persons,  whose  names  are  before; 
nsed.  "That  the  vnlearned  myght  the  better  vnderstandfi 
these,  I  haue  conipendio\islyi;  noted  the  histories,  8c 
tiames  not  famiiier  to  our  Engh'sh  phrase."  The  follow- 
ing refer  to  the  above  extracts. 

"  Adelaise.  Doughter  and  onelye  chylde  of  the  Emperour 
Otho  the  thyrde,  so  excedyngiye  she  was  enamoured  of  the 
most  valiant  Aleian,  Sonne  to  the  Duke  of  Saxony,  that  she 
procured  hym  pryuelye  to  conuey  her  awaye,  whych  by  the 
helpe  of  an  old  lady  her  nurce,  he  brought  to  passe.  And 
afterwarde  beinge  robed  of  suche  moifey  as  they  had  prouyded, 
they  lyued  longe  in  a  woode,  and  made  coles  for  theyr  lyuynge, 
and  [shej  bare  hym  seueu  sonnes  theare,  and  afterwarde  by 
the  valyante  feates  of  her  eldest  sonne,  they  were  knowen  to 
the  Emperoure  :  and  so  had  hys  fauoure  againe,  and  enioyed 
the  empyre  after  hym. 

"  Ivliet.  A  noble  mayden  of  the  cytye  Verona  in  Italye, 
whyche  loued  Romeus,  eldest  sonne  of  the  Lorde  Montesche, 
and  beinge  pryuely  maryed  togyther:  he  at  last  poysoned 
hymselfe  for  loue  of  her.  She  for  sorowe  of  hys  deathe,  slewc 
her  selfe  in  the  same  tombej  wyth  hys  dagger."  f         J.  H. 


^  y/  Poesie  in  Forme  of  a  Vision,  hriefly  inueying 
against  the  moste  hatefull,  and  prodigious  Artes  of 
Necromancie,  Witchcraft,  Sorcerie,  Incantations,  and 
diuers  other  detestable  and  deuiliske  practises^  dayly 
vsed  vnder  colour  of  Judiciall  Astrologie,  Compiled 
in  Metre  by  I.  H.  Esay  19.  Vfhen  they  aske 
Lounsell  at  their  Gods,  at  their  Prophets,  at  their 
Southsayers  and  Witches,  then  will  I  bring  their 
connselles  to  nought.     [Device  of  the  boy  in  loose 

•garment.     See  Herbert,  801.]     Printed  at  London  by 

*  Ritson  says  Thomas  Peend.     Bio.  Poet. 
•J-  This  has  escaped  the  notice  of  the  commentators  on  Shake- 
speare.    See  also  postea,  p.  4-4^. 

Rouland 


35^ 

Rauland  Hall  dvvelli/ng  in  gutter  Lane  at  the  sigfie 
of  the  halfe  Egle  and  the  Keye.  1563. 

This  "  Poesie,"  the  production  of  "  infancy,"  is  un- 
noticed in  the  registers  of  Herbert  and  Ritson,  It  is 
written  in  quatrains,  commencing  A  ij  without  any  pre- 
fixture.  The  author,  on  going  to  bed,  has  dreadful 
dreams  and  a  vision,  considering  himself  ill  a  meadow 
"  where  siluer  drops  of  dewe  most  swete  dyd  cleaue  to 
cuery  grasse,"  he  shews  his  knowledge  in  botany. 

"  Ther  was  no  herbe,  nor  pleasa"t  flower 

in  such  a  felde  to  knowe: 
But  might  be  sene  ftiost  fruitfully 

within  this  feilde  to  grow. 
What  shotild  I  name  the  Hiasinthe, 

or  soote  Verbasculy : 
The  clouer  sweete  of  diuers  kindes, 

that  caulde  are  trifoly. 
The  Brunei],  and  the  Bugle  blewe 

with  fayre  Hieracium  : 
The  Synkefelde,  and  the  Betony, 

and  swete  Origanum. 
TheTutsain,  and  Hipericon, 

Asciron  and  Paunsye : 
The  Vyolet  and  Simphiton 

and  the  doble  Dayesye. 
The  Harts  ease,  and  the  Pacience, 

andcrimsen  Pimpernellj 
The  Cammock,  and  the  Cammomillc, 

and  caunterbury  bell. 
Rosecampany,  Maudlen,  and  Coste, 

and  London  touft  so  red  : 
Agrimony,  and  Lians  toth, 

that  children  caule  pis  bed. 
Odoriferous  Serpillum, 

and  ladye  Trases  fyne: 
With  yarrow,  torn  twise,  strawberries, 

and  Burnet  good  with  wine. 
The  Lunary,  the  Serpents  tongue, 

and  Procerpinaca : 
The  Adder  gras,  the  Saxifrage, 

and  eke  Veronica. 
It  hedged  was  with  honysuckles, 

or  Periclimenurn: 
Well  myxed  with  small  Coruus  trease, 

swete  bryer  and  Ligustrum. 

The, 


35^ 

The  white  thorn,  &  y=.  black  thorne  both,. 

with  boxe,  and  raaple  fyne  : 
In  which  braunched  the  briony, 

the  luye,  and  wylde  vyne, 
To  long  I  should  the  tyme  detract, 

and  from  my  purpose  straie : 
If  I  should  recken  all  the  things 

within  the  felde  so  gaye." 

With  similar  minuteness  he  describes  the  celestial 
siains.  The  commencement  of  necromancy  is  impotently 
derived  from  a  heron  swallowing  serpents  on  the  banks  of 
Styx,  which  voiding  this  *'  wicked  brood"  in  a  field  even 
draws  the  author's  familiar  friends  to  seek  to  learn  witch- 
craft. Of  the  delusive  attempts  of  the  professors  in  for- 
tune-telling, the  following  was  probably  a  faithful  de^ 
lineation. 

*'  But  phisyke,  and  astronoraj', 

alas  is  now  the  cloke 
For  euery  kynd  of  trechery 

that  goodnes  doth  reuoke. 
For  wycked,  wandering  fugitiues, 

or  vacaboundes  most  leaud : 
Do  now  a  daies  frotn  shere,  to  shere, 

with  shyftes  both  false  and  shrewed: 
Vnder  colour  of  phisykes  art, 

and  noble  surgery 
Delude  ihe  common  multitude, 

wyth  shamefull  sorcery. 
All  secreat  markes  they  will  disclose, 

and  thinges  long  done  and  paste: 
Which  doth  with  admiration 

the  people  make  agaste 
In  such  wise,  that  they  straight  beleuc 

that  nothing  vnder  sonne 
Doth  stand  to  hard  or  difficult 

of  such  menne  to  be  donne. 
So  that  partly  with  Palmistry, 

or  Chiromancies  gawde : 
And  folishe  Phisiognomy, 

and  wichery  that  fraud, 
Vnto  their  wicked,  false  purpose 

the  people  they  allure  : 
More  then  can  any  godly  art, 

that  perfect  is  and  pure. 

For 


35« 

tbi  bedlem  baudes,  &  hatefull  whores, 

this  is  a  common  shyft : 
Of  roffins,  theueS,  and  murderers 

it  also  is  the  drift. 
Vnder  such  clok  their  companies 

togither  oft  they  draw : 
Free  from  daunger  of  officers, 

and  punishment  of  lawe. 
Alas  that  this  might  be  sen  to 

with  iustice,  power,  and  might. 
That  Vranie,  and  Medicine 

againe  might  baue  their  right.'' 

Against  astrology  judicial,  the  learned  Calvin  is  to 
satisfy  all  wise  men  :  at  length  the  vision  ends,  and  the 
author  hears  the  warbling  Philomel,  who,  counselling 
against  sloth,  he  wrote  his  poem :  but  accept  his  own 
ludicrous  minuteness. 

"  And  I  againe  to  my  self, 

that  I  dyd  shortly  here; 
The  warbling  notes  &  songe  so  swete, 

of  Philomela  cleare. 
Whych  counsaylld  me  that  slothfulnes, 

I  should  from  me  expell : 
Wherfore  I  rose,  and  with  all  spede 

I  lyghted  a  candell. 
So  Serued  my  turne  my  tinder  box, 

whych  stood  in  my  chamber  ■ 
Then  toke  I  forth  my  standish  to, 

with  pen,  ynke,  and  paper. 
Where  I  carued  forth  ilfauoredly 

this  rough  and  ragged  verse  : 
Wherin  thefFect  of  thys  my  drearae, 

I  rudely  do  rehears. 
D[e]siering  yet  in  my  reade[r]s  dere, 

to  beare  it  paciently  ; 
Syth  it  is  but  the  budding  flower, 

of  my  poore  infancy. 
Which  as  rimes  of  knowledge  growes, 

I  shall  be  glad  tamend  j 
If  any  man,  shall  be  informe 

and  thus  I  make  an  end. 

Quotations  from  lereme.  10,  and  Esaye  47,  then  the  colo- 
phon. Printed  at  London,  by  RouLand  Hall,  dvvellyng  in 
Gutter  Lane,  at  the  signs  of  the  halfe  Egle  and  the  Keyc, 
15(53."  J.  H. 

A  Catalogue 


353 


IF  3i  (Catalague  of  JlBoofeg  on  ^ngiing. 


In  the  second  edition  of  the  Treatises  of  Hawking  and 
Hunting,  ascribed  to  Juliana  Barnes^ 
"  Mere  ,begynpyth  the  Treatyse  of  Fysshynge  with  an 

Angle."  Fol.  Lond.  Wynk.  de  Worde.  1496. 

4°.  Wynk.  de  Worde. 

4°.  Lond.  W.  Copland* 

i... ., . .  i . . ..  4°.  Lond.  loh.  Waley. 

.  i  ,.....*. ...  4°.  Lond.  Wyllyam  Powell. 

.4°.  Lond.  Wyllyam  Powell.     1550* 

4*.  Lond.  .Abr.'Veale  and  W.  Cop- 
land. 

fol.    Lond.    1810,    reprinted  in  fac- 
simile from  the  edit,  of  1496. 

[Juliana  -Burners,  Barnesj  or  Barnes,  the  religious  sports- 
woman, to'whom  the  above  tract  is' ascribed,  is  said  to  have 
been  Of  a  noble  family,  sister  to  Richard  Lord  Berriers  of 
Ess^x',  and  prioress  of  Sopwdl,  near  St.  Albans.  She  flourished,  ■, 
according  to  Bale  and  Pitts,  about  the  year  146O;  and  is  cele- 
brated by  Lelandj  Holinshed,  and  other  writers,  for  her  un- 
common learning  and  accomplishments. 

Beside  being  the  first  printed  treatise  on  the  subject  in  the 
English  language,  this  work  affords  us  rude  representations  of 
the  different  kinds  of  tackle  in  use:  and  contains  directions 
and  remarks,  which  have  been  copied  even  in  ^ome  of  the 
most  recent  Treatises  on  Angling. 

Of  thequarto  edition,  printed  by  Copland,  Herbert  mentions 
two  other  copies:  one,  printed  "  in  Lothbury,  over  against 
"  St.  Margarets  Church ;"  the  olher,  "  in  Seinf  Martyns  parish 
in  the  Vinetre,  upon  the  three  Crane  Wharfe."] 

'.'  Hawking,  Hunting,  Fouling,  and  Fishing,  with  the 
true  Measures  of  Blowing,  &c.  now  newly  colleeted 
by  W.  G.  faukener."'  4°.  Lond.  1596. 
[W.  G.  is  William  GryndalJ.] 

"  Hawking,  Hunting,  and  Fishing,  with  the  true  Mea- 
sures of  Blowing.  Newly  corrected  and  aniand?^. 
1596."  4°.  Lond.  Edw.  Aide.  1596. 

"A  Booke  of  Fishing  with  Hooke  and  Line^,  and  pf  all 
Yoi«  II.  A  A  other 


354 

other   Instruments   thereunto  belonginge,    made    by 

L.  M."  4°.  Lond.  1590. 

4°.  Lond.  1596. 

4°.  Lond.  1600. 

. , 4°.  Lond.  1606. 

[This  Treatise  contains  a  few  improvements  on  the  diWctiOns 
of  Juliana  Barnes.     It  has  wood-cuts  of  the  pike  and  proche 
hooks,  &c.  with  some  retnarks  on  the  prfeservation  of  fish  iii  , 
pools.     L.  M.  is  Leonard  Mascall.] 

"  A  NewBooke  of  gobd  Hiisbandry,  very  pleasaunt,  and 
of  great  profile  both  for  Gentlemen  and  Yometr :  eon- 
teining  the  Order  and  Maner  of  making'  of  Fish-pondes, 
with  the  breeding,  preseruing  and  mvltiplyihgfe  of  the 
Carpe,  Tench,  Pike,  and  Troute,  and  diuerse  kindes  of 
other  Fresh-Fish.  Written  in  Latine  by  Janus' Du- 
brauius,  and-translated  into  English  at  the  speciall  re- 
quest of  George  Churchey,  fellow  of  Lio'ns  Inne,  the 
9.  Februarie  1599."  4°.  Lond.  1599. 

"  Certain  Experiments  concerning, Fish  and  Fruit  prac- 
tised by  lohn  Taveriier,  Gentletnan,  and  by  him  pub- 
lished for  the  benefit  of  others."  4°.  London,  (printed 
for  VVm.  Ponsonby)  1600. 

[On  the  family  of  John  Taverner,  see  Masters's  Hist,  of 
C.  C.  C.  Cambridge.] 

"  The  Secrets  of  Angling ;  teaching  the  choicest  Tooles, 
Baytes,  and  Seasons  for  the  taking  of  any  Fish,  in 
Pond  or  River :  practised  and  familiarly  opened  in 
three  BoOkes.     By  L  D.  Esquire."  8°.  Lond.  1613. 

8°-  Lond.  1653. 

[In  the  centre  of  the  title  of  the  first  edition  of  this  work  is  a 
wood-cut,  representing  two  men.  One,  with  a  sphere  at  the 
end  of  his  line,  and  on  a  label 

"  Hold  hooke  and  line 
Then  all  is  mine." 
The  other  with  a  fish, 

"  Well  fayre  the  pleasure 
That  brings  such  treasure." 
Some  large  extracts  from  the  second  edition,  which  is  much 
enlarged,  were  published  in  the  last  volume  of  the  "  Censura 
Literaria." 
The  original  author  of  the  work  is  mentioned  in  the  third 

edition 


S5S 

sdition  of  Walton's  Angler,  under  the  name  of  Jo,  Davors; 
But  the  following  entry  in  the  books  at  Statiopers'  Hall,  pro- 
bably affords  the  most  accurate  information, 

1612,  Feb.  28  ,  "  Mr.  Rog.  Jackson  entred  for  his  copie 
under  thands  of  Mr.  Mason  and  Mr,  Warden  Hooper  a  Booke 
called  the  Secrete  of  Angling,  teaching  the  choysest  tooles, 
bates,  k  seasons  for  the  takingof  any  fish  in  pond  or  river, 
pracktisedand  opened  in  three  Bookes,  by  Joh,s  Dennys, 
Esquier.  vjd."  Lib-  C.  pa.  236  b. 

The  second  edition,  is  said  in  the  title,  to  be  "  augmented 
with  many  approved  experiments,  by  IK  Lauson."'] 

"  The  Pleasures  of  Princes,  or  Good  Mens  Recreations ; 
containing  a  Discourse  of  the  general  Art  of  Fighing 
with  the  Angle,  or  otherwise :  and  of  all  the  hidden 
Secrets  belonging  thereunto.  Together  with  the 
Choyce,  Ordering,  Breeding,  andDyettingof  the  fight- 
ing Cooke,  being  a  worke  never  in  that  nature  handled 
by  any  former  Author."  4°.  Lond.  1614. 

4''.  Lond.   1635. 

[This  work  forms  a  part  of  the  "second  Booke  of  (he 
English  Husbandman,  by  G.  M.  (Gervasc  Markhara. }] 

^'ABriefe  Treatise  of  Fishing:  with  the  Art  of  Ang- 
ling." 4°.  Lond.  1614. 

[This  forms  a  part  of  the  "  Jewell  for  Gentrie,  by  T.  S. ;" 
and  is,  in  fact,  but  a  reprint  of  the  work  ascribed  to  Juliana 
Barnes.] 

In  "  Cheap  and  Good  Husbandry,"  by  Gervase 
Markham,  4°.  Lond.  16 1 6,  we  have  a  short  chapter 
"  On  Fish  and  Fish  Ponds." 

Among  the  additions  by  Gervase  Markham  to  "  Mai- 
son  Rustique,  or  the  Countrey  Farme,  compyled  in  the- 
French  tongue  by  Charles  Stevens,  and  lohn  Liebauii^ 
and  translated  into  English  by  Richard  Surflet."  fol. 
Lond.  i6i6.  Book  IV.  chap,  xi — xvii.  relate  to  "  The 
Poole,  Fish-pond,  and  Ditch  for  Fish.". 
"  Countrey  Contentments :  or  the  Husbandmans  Recre- 
ations by  G.  M. 


, 5th  edit.  4°.  Lond.  1633. 

6th.  edit.  4°.  Lond.  16.39.  ■ 

[l"rom  p.  50  to  102,  in  the  fifth  and  sixth  editions,  we  have 
A  A  2  "The 


35^ 

"  The  whole  Art  of  Angling;  as  it  was  written  in  a  small 
treatise  in  rime,  and  now  for  the  better  understanding  of  the 
Reader  put  into  Prose,  and  adorned  and  enlarged."  The  edition 
of  the  "  Country  Contentments,"  of  l6l5,  does  not  contain 
the  Treatise  on  Angling.  The  rimes  from  which  the  Art  of 
Angling,  in  this  book,  was  taken,  were  probably  those  in  the 
"  Secrets  of  Angling,  by  I.  D."  l6l3.] 

The  "  Country  Gentleman's  Companion/'  2  vol. 
12°.  Lond.  1753,  said  in  the  title  to  be  "  by  a  Country 
Gentleman,  from  his  own  experience,"  and  "  printed  for 
the  Author,  is  nothing  more  than  a  reprint  of  Mark- 
ham's  work,  without  dedication,  preface,  or  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  author's  name.  The  Treatise  on  Angling, 
with  the  same  verbatim  title,  occurs  Vol.  II.  p.  61 — 106. 

"The  Art  of  Angling.     Wherein  are  discovered  many 
rare  Secrets  very  necessary  to  be  known  by  ail  that  de- 
light in  that  Recreation,  written  by  Thomas  Barker, 
an  antient  Practitioner  in  the  said  Art."  12m".  Lond. 
1651, 
.' 4".  Lond.  1653,  without  the  au- 
thor's! name:  subjoined   to  the  "Countrymans  Recrea- 
tion," 4°.  Lond.  1654. 

i 2d  edit,  [so  called],   ia°.  Lond. 

1657:   with   Commendatory  Verses   prefixed.     This   is 
the  first  edition  that  has  the' title  of  "  Barker's  Delight." 

, 2d.    edit,    [likewise    so   called,] 

12°.  Lond.  1659.     ^'  ^^^>  ^"^  ^''■'^'j  ""^'y  ^  "^^'^  title- 
page. 

[In  an  Epistle  to  the  Reader,  prefixed  to  the  first  edition,  and 
in  the  dedication  of  the  two  last  to  Edward  Lord  Montague, 
Barker  speaks  of  himself  as  having  practised  angling  for  more 
than  half  a  century.  He  also  says  he  was  born  and  educated 
"  at  Bracemeale,  in  the  liberty  of  Salop ;  being  a  freeman  and 
burgesse  of  the  same  city :"  adding,  "if  any  noble  or  gentle 
angler,  of  what  degree  soever  he  be,  have  a  mind  to  discourse 
of  any  of  these  wayes  and  experiments,  I  live  in  Henry  the 
7'*".  Gifts,  the  next  doore  to  the  Gatehouse  in  Westm.  my 
name  is  Barker,  where  I  shall  be  ready,  as  long  as  please  Gi)d, 
to  satisfie  them,  and  maintain  my  art,  during  life,  which  is  not 
like  to  be  long."] 

"The  Compleat  Angler,  or  the  Contemplative  Mans 

Recreation. 


•557 

Recreation.     Being  a  Discourse  of  Fish  and  Fishing, 

not  unworthy  the  perusal  of  most  Anglers.- 

*'  Simon  Peter  said,   I  go  a  fishing:  and  they  said, 

we   also  will  go  with   thee."     John  21.  3.    12°.  Lond. 

1653.     [%  Isaac  Walton.] 

'. , 2d   edit.  12°.  Lond.  1655. 

3d    edit.  12°.  Lond.  1664. 

'. 4th  edit.   12*,  Lond.   1668. 

5th  edit,     forming    the    first 

part  of  the  "  Universal  Angler,"  by  Walton,  Cotton, 

and  Venables,  13°.  Lond.  1676. 

[The  above  are  all  the  editions  of  "  the  Complete  Angler," 
tliat  were  publislied  during  the  author's  life. 

The  second  edition,  which  was  published  but  two  yenrs 
after  the  lirst,  appears  to  have  been  almost  rewritten,  with  the 
introduction  of  a  third  interlocutor  in  Auceps,  and  great  ad- 
ditions in  every  part. 

The  third  edition  is  the  first  which  has  the  "  Postscript, 
touching  the  Laws  of  Angling,",  and  an  Index. 

To  ttie  fifth,  a  second  part  was  appended,  on  fishing  for 
Trout  and  Grayling,  by  Charles  Cotton,  Esq.  of  Berisford.] 
6th  edit.    8".    Lond.     1 750 

edited  by  Moses  Browne. 
7th  edit.  8°.  Lond.   1759,  by 

Moses  Browne. 

[Moses  Browne,  who  rose  by  his  own  merit  from  thehumble 
occupation  of  a  pen-cutter  to  the  station  of  a  respectable  divine 
of  the  church  of  England,  was  born  in  1/04.  Early  in  life  he 
distinguished  himself  by  his  poetical  talents;  and  when  onl.r 
twenty  years  of  age  published  a  tragedy  and  a  farce,  called 
"  Polidus,"  and  "  All  bedevilled."  These  were  played  to- 
gether at  a  private  theatre  in  St.  Alban's  street.  He  became 
afterwards  a  frequent  contributor  to  the  Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine, and,  as  far  as  concerned  the  poetical  part,  was,  for  a 
long  time,  one  of  its  chief  supports. 

Sir  John  Hawkins,  in  his  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  says,  he  was 
a  candidate  for  the  fifty  pounds  prize,  alluded  to  in  the  Doc- 
tor's first  letter  to  Cave,  as  well  as  for  the  other  prizes  which 
Cave  proposed  for  Poems  on  particular  subjects;  in  all,  or 
most  of  which  compositions,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  suc- 
ceed. * 

His. 

*  When  Cave  published  a  Translation  of  Da  Halde's  China. 
he  inscribed  the  cllfferent  plates   to  his  friends,  and  one  among 

A   s   -;  tliCHi 


35^ 

His  "  Hscatory  Eclogues,"  which  were  first  published 
■without  his  name,  appeared  in  1729:  a  second  edition  came 
out  among  hi*  ''  Poems  on  various  subjects,"  in  octavo, 
1739  :  and  the  third,  in  an  extended  form,  by  itself,  ac- 
companied with  notes,  in  1773' 

Kor  a  long  lime,  however,  even  after  his  abilities  were 
known,  he  remained  in  poverty:  being  able  to  make  little 
pr  vision  beyond  the  day  that  was  passing  over  him.  Thf  foU 
lowing  letter  which  he  wrote  to  Dr.  Birch,  in  17 15,  who  had 
before  assisted  his  studies,  will  probably  have  some  interest 
with  the  reader. 

"  Sir, 

"  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  presume  on  that  ve-y  slender 
knowledge  you  may  have  of  me  by  a  few  accidental  interuews 
formerly  at  Mr.  Caves,  to  ask  any  favour  of  you,  but  not  liav, 
ing  the  least  acquaintance  with  any  gentleman  of  the  h(>j'al 
Society  besides,  I  trouble  you  with  a  few  enquiries  I  want  to 
make,  which  wil!  be  a  great  kindness  and  obligation  if  you 
will  please  to  inform  me  of,  by  a  lett«r  direi  ted  as  beneath. 
My  sight  dr  caying  pretty  much,  and  rendring  it  somewhat 
difficult  for  me  to  provide  as  formerly  for  my  family  ((  having 
a  wife  and  seven  cliildren)  T  am  wishing  to  know  how  I  might 
apply  for  some  little  place  that  does  not  require  all  ones  time, 
to  hefp  me  out  with  some  little  additional  support. 

"  I  apprehend  ihere  must  be  something  ot  messengers, 
door-keepers',  or  whatever  kind  of  officers  they  may  be,  be- 
longing to  the  Society  If  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  inform 
nie  what  their  list  is,  what  salary,  and  who  must  be  applied  to 
for  a  gift  of  this  kind,  it  will  be  esteemed  a  very  singular  fa- 
vour. I  have  no  thoughts  nor  aim  of  becoming  troublesome 
to  you,  farther  than  for  your  kind  intelligence,  and  shall  use  no 
liberties  with  your  name,  unless  you  are  pleased  from  your  own 
good  will  tp  allow  me  any  otht  r  encouragements  or  services 
which  I  have  no  pretensions  nor  boldness  to  ask  of  you.  J  am 
a  subject  of  pity  in  my  circumstances  that  I  have  so  few,  very 
few  friends,  but  I  entirely  trust  to  that  good  Providence  to  sup- 
port me,  some  way  or  other,  thro'  my  remaining  days,  whose 


tliem  "  To  Moses  Browne."  With  this  blunt  and  familiar  desig- 
ration  Mr.  Browjie  was  justly  offended.  To  appease  him  Cave 
directed' the  engraver  to  introduce  with  a  caret,  under  the  line, 
"  Mr. :"  and  thought,  that  in  so  doing,  he  had  made  ample^mends 
fo  Mr.  Browne  for  the  indignity  done  him. 

regards 


369 

regards  I  have  so  kindly,  beyond  all  my  deserts,  experienced 
hitherto. 

I  am,  with  great  respect. 
Sir,  your  most  sincere  and 
affectionate  Serv'. 

Moses  Bkownb.'' 
Next  the  Barley  Mow, 
Mile-end  Green, 
Feb.  1  ith,  174.5. 

In  1750  he  edited  Walton  and  Cotton's  Angler,  with  a  pre- 
face, notes,  and  some  valuable  additions ;  this  was  republished 
in  1759  and  177- j  't>  the  former  year  drawing  him  into  a 
controversy  with  Sir  John  Hawkins,  who  happened  to  be  then 
publishing  an  improved  edition  of  the  same  work. 

From  his  poems,  as  well  as  from  the  scattered  observations 
in  the  "  Angler,"  he  appears  to  have  been  always  of  a  re- 
ligious fun;  and  in  1 752  he  published,  in  verse,  a  series  of 
dpvout  Contemplations,  entitled  "Sunday  Thoughts."  Doctor 
Johnson,  we  are  told,  who  often  expressed  his  dislike  of  re- 
li  i  )us  poetry,  and  who,  for  the  purpose  of  religious  medita- 
tion, thought  one  day  as  proper  as  another,  read  them  with 
cold  a,  probation,  and  added  that  he  had  a  great  mind  to  write 
Mniidai/  Thoughts.  They,  however,  went  through  a  second 
euition  in  1764,  and  a  third  in  I78I. 

In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Birch,  dated  Dec.  8th,  1752,  he  mentions 
the  advice  of  many  of  his  friends,  that  he  should  endeavour  to 
obtain  orders.  "  A  gentleman  ofNortharapton.-he  sajs,  wrote 
me  word  a  few  days  since,  that  he  had  a  promise  of  a  living 
for  me,  if  I  would  get  ordained  directly,  and  be  down  by  the 
30th  of  ni-xt  month."  Early  in  the  following  year  his  testi- 
monials were  signed  by  Dr.  Birch,  Mr.  Nicholas  Faytingi  and 
Dr.  John  Groom  of  Childerdale  rn  Essex;  and  soon  after  his 
ordination  he  was  presented  to  the  vicarage  of  01  ney  iu  Buck- 
inghamshire, on  the  cession  of  Mr.  Wolsey  Johnson. 

In  1754,  he  published  a  serm.on,  preached  at  Olney,  on 
Christmas-day,  entitled  "  The  Nativity  and  Hunailiatien  of 
Jesus  Christ,  practically  considered." 

In  1755  he  published  a  small  quarto  poem,  entitled  "Percy 
Lodge,  a  seat  of  the  Duke  and  Dutchess  of  Somerset,  written 
by  command  of  their  late  Graces,  in  the  year  174t)." 

In  what  year  he  was  presented  to  the  vicarage  of  Sutton,  in 
Lincolnshire,  we  are  not  informed  by  any  of  the  writers  who 
mention  him  :  but  in  1763  he  was  elected  to  the  chaplainship 
of  Morden  College  in  Kent.  In  1/6.5,  he  publis'ied  a  Sermon, 
"■preached  to  the  Society  for  the  Reformation  of  tVlannfrs;" 

A  A  4  and. 


360 

and,  a  few  years  afteo  a  Visitation  Sermon,  delivered  at  Stony 
Stratford. 

Beside  these  pieces,  Mr.  Browne  is  said  to  have  published 
one  or  two  political  tracts ;  and  in  1772,  a  translation  of  a 
work  by  J6hn  Liborius  Zimmerman,  entitled  "  The  E*cel, 
lency  of  the  Knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ."  12°.  Lond.  He 
died  atMorden  College,  Sept.  13,  1787,  in  his  84th  year.] 

*'  The  Compleat  Angler,  8th  edit*  8".  Lond.  1760. 
edited  by  John  Hawkiqs,  Esq,  afterwards  Sir  John 
Hawkins, 

[A  manuscript  note  of  Mr.  White,  of  Crickhowell,  in  a 
copy  of  the  "  Complete  Angler,"  edit.  1 784,  says  Sir  John 
Hawkins  was~born  March  19,  17 19-] 

He  was  elected  Chairman  of  the  Session  for  Middlesex, 
Sept.  19,  1735,  in  which  capacity  he  published  a  Charge  to  the 
Grand  Jury,  Jan.  8,  1770.>  and  received  the'hopqur  of  Knight- 
hood, Oct.  23,  1772. 

He  died  at  his  house  in  the  Great  Sanctuary,  "Westminster, 
May  21st,  1789.  in  his  7lst  year,  and  lies  buried  in  West- 
minster Abbey.  The  public  are  infinitely  indebted  to  him  for 
the  many  valuable  anecdotes  recorded  in  his  History  of  Music: 
though  his  biography  of  Johnson,  it  must  be  confessed,  was 
undertaken  in  an  evil  hour. 

Compare,  for  further  particulars  of  him  and  his  works,  Gent. 
Mag.  Vol.  XLVJ.  p.  522.  Xl.VII.  29,  78,  125,  229,  273. 
LV.  875.  LXIX,  473,  and  Kippis's  Biogr.  Brit.  art.  Addison, 
p.  55.] 

r-.«; 9th    edit,    8°.   Lond.    1766, 

edited  by  John  Hawkins,  Esq. 

A  new  title  only. 

T..' icth  edit.  8°.   Lond.    1772, 

edited  by  Moses  Browne.  ' 
nth  edit.    8".   Lond.    1775, 

by  Sir  John  Hawkins. 
•  •••••. 12th  edit.   8".  Lond.   1784, 

by  Sir  John  Hawking. 
.•••. ,..  13th  edit.    8".   Lond,   1793, 

edited  by  John  Sidney  Hawkins,  Esq.' 
• Hth  edit.   8".   Lond.    1797, 

also  by  Mr.  Sidney  Hawkins,  but  without  the  largef 

plates. 

"" 15th  edit.  8°.  Lond.  j8c8, 

[^Printed  in  three  sj^es.] 


3<5i 

**  The  Complete  Angler,  i6th  edit,  a  fac-simile  repriiit 

of  theedit.  of  165J.   1%".  Lond.  1810, 

In  the  third  edition  of  the  ','  Compleat  Gentleman," 
Hy  Henry  Peacham,  the  xxi.  Chapter  is  "  Concerninr 
Fishing."  4°.  Lond.  1661. 

[It  does  not  occur  in  eitjier  of  the  previous  editions  of  1 532 
or  1634] 

"  The  Evperlenc'd  Angler;  or  Angling  Improved:  being 
a  General  Discourse  of  Angling."  8°.  Lond.  1662. 

[By  Col.  Robert  Venables,  whose  name  appears  at  least  ia 
the  three  last  of  the  subsequent  editions.] 

, 2d   edit.   12°.  Lond. 

jd    edit,  ia°.  Lond.  1668. 

4th  edit.  ia°.  Lond.  1676. 

5th  edit.  12°.  Lond.  1683. 

[The  fourth  edition  forms  the  third  part  of  the  Universal 
Angler.J 

Among  the  Manuscripts  in  the  Harleian  Collection,  ars 
several  pedigrees  of  the  family  of  Venables:  particularly  in  the 
MS.  1393,  f  39,  where  the  great  ancestor  of  Venables  is 
stated  to  have  been  Galiard  Venables,  who  came  over  wiili  the 
Conqueror,  and  afterwards  received  ihe  Earldom  of  Kindertoji, 
in  Cheshire,  from  Hugh  Lupus.  Another  MS.  205Q,  recites  a 
deed  from  one  of  the  family  residing  at  Xorthwieh,  as  early 
as  1260.  '  ' .  ,  . 

The  Harleian  Manuscript,    ip03,   f  52,  contains  a  paper, 
partly  in  the  hand-writing  of  Colonel  Venables,  containing  an 
account  of  the  time  he  served  theParliamentArmyin  Cheshire 
and  of  the  pay  due  to  him  between  l643  and  iQ-iQ.  From  this 
jt  appears  that  in  l644  he  was  made  Governor  of  Chester. 

When  Cromwell,  by  the  persuasions  of  Card.  Mazarine, 
fitted  out  a  fleet  for  the  Conquest  of  Hispaniola  in  1655,  the 
command  of  the  army,  (consisting  of  2000  old  Cavaliers  and 
as  many  of  Oliver's  standing  army,  besides  volunteers  and  ne- 
cessitated persons)  was  given  tp  Col.  Venables  and  Admiral 
Peun;  who  were  ordered  to  take  on  board  more  forces  at  Bar- 
hadoes  and  the  Leeward  Islands. 

<-)n  the  13th  of  April,  Col.  Venables  landed  at  Hispaniola, 
but  was  defeated,  and  retreated  to  the  fleet.  On  the  3d  of  May, 
however,  they  made  a  descent  on  Jamaica,  and  took  possession 
of  the  town  of  St.  Jago  by  capitulation.  Toward  the  close  of 
the  summer  Venables  and  Penn  returned  home,  and  arrived 
|p  jEi]gland  in  September,  where  they  were  both  imprisoned 

for 


362 

for  their  scandalous  conduct  in  this  expedition :  which  would  have 
been  an  irreparable  dishonour  to  the  English  nation,  had  not 
the  island  of  Jamaica,  which  chance,  more  than  council,  be- 
stowed upo.n  them,  made  amends  for  the  loss  at  Hispaniola. 
See  The  British  Empire  in  Anierica,  Vol.  II.  p.  305.  8°.  1741. 

From  other  sources  we  learn  that  in  l645  Lieut.  Col. 
Venables  was  Governor  of  Tarvin.  In  1 649  he  was  Com- 
mander in  Chief  of  the  Forces  in  Ulster,  and  had  the  towns  of 
Lisnegarvy,  Antrym,  and  Belfast,  delivered  to  him. 

Some  of  "his  actions  in  Ireland  are  recited  in  "  A  History  or 
Brief  Chronicle  of  the  Chief  Matters  of  the  Irish  Warres."  4°. 
Lond.  1650. 

jn  "  Certaine  Passages  of  Every  Dayes  Intelligence,  from 
Sep.21  to  28,  1655,  (published  by  authority?)  it  is  said,  '■  Gen. 
Pen  and  Gea.  Venables  would  willingly  be  petitioning  his 
Highnes  the  Lord  Protector  for  their  enlargement  out  of  the 
Tower  againj  but  it  is  a  little  too  soon  yet;  it  were  not  amiss 
that  they  stayed  till  we  hear  again  from  the  West  Indies."] 

"  Angling  improved  to  spiritual  Uses,"  forms  part  of 
an  octavo  volume,  under  the  title  of  "  Occasional  Re- 
fiections  upon  several  Subjects,"  by  the  Hon.  Robert 
Boyle.  8°.  Lond.  1665. 

In  "The  Epitome  of  the  Art  of  Husbandry,"  by  T.  B. 
Gent.  ia°.  Lond»  1669.  p.  182  to  196  are  "  Brief  Ex- 
perimerital  Directions  for  the  right  Use  of  the  Angle." 
S"*.  Lond.  1670. 

p.  182  to  196. 
8".  Lohd.  1685. 

p.  145  to  159. 

[The  author's  name  was  Blagrave.] 
"The  Angler's  Delight:  containing  the  whole  Art  of 
neat  and  clean  Angling;  wherein  is  taught  the  readiest 
way  to  take  all  sorts  of  Fish,  from  ihe  Pike  to  the 
Minnow,  together  with  their  proper  baits,  haunts,  and 
time  of  fjshmg  for  them,  whether  in  mere,  pond,  or 
river. 
"  As  also  the  method  of  fishmg  in  Hacknev  River,  and 
the  names  of  all  the  best  stands  there;  with  the  man- 
ner of  making  all  sorts  of  good  tackle  fit  for  any  water 
whatsoever.    The  like  never  before  in  print.     By  Wil- 
liam. Gilbert,  Gent.  12'.  Lond.  1676. 

l  12°.  Lond.  no  date. 

This 


li 


363 

[This  second  edition  was  reprinted  in  fac-slmile,  about  1780, 
by  a  bookseller,  in  Hplborn.] 

**The  Compleat  Troller;  or  the  Art  of  Trolling,"  by- 
Robert  Nobbes.  8^  Lond.  1683. 

2d  edit,  same  date,  reprinted 

in  fac-simile,  about  17,0. 

3d  edit,  prefixed  to  the  Angler's 

Pocket  Book.  8".  Norw.  -no  date. 

i«th  edit,  appended  to  another 

edition  of  the  Angler's  Pocket-Book.  8".  Lond,  1805, 
The  Acconiplishf  Ladv's  '  Delight  in  Preservingj 
Physick,  Beautifying  and  Cookery."  12°.  Lond.  1684. 
p.  106  to  126.  "  New  and  excellent  Experiments  and 
Secrets  in  the  Art  of  Angling,  being  directions  for  the 
whole  Art." 

[Taken  entirely  from  Walton  and  Barker.] 

"  Gentleman's  Recreations:  treating  of  the  /  rt  of  HoTse- 
nianship,  Hunting,  Fowling,  Fishing,  and  Agriculture.''' 
fol.  Lond.  ibSb. 

fol.  Lond.iyio, 

"  The   Gentleman's    Recreation :    in    four    parts,    viz. 

Hunting,    Hawking,    Fowling,   Fishing,"    8°.   Lond. 

1674.     [By  Nicholas  v  ox  ]       ■ 

id  edit.  8°.  Lond.  16:7. 

^d  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1686. 

4th  edit.  8".  Lond.  1697. 

5th  edit.  8^.  Lond.  1 706, 

6th  editi  8°.  Lond.  1721. 

"  The  Angler's  Vade  Mecum  :  or  a   compendious,  yet 

full    Discour.se  of   Angling,"    by   J.    Cheetham.    8". 

Lond.   i68i. 

2d  edit.  8°.  Lond.. 1 689, 

3d  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1700. 

"  Norihern  Memoirs,  calculated  for  the  Meridian  of 
Scotland.  Wherein  most  or  all  of  the  cities,  citadels, 
sea-porls  castles,  forts,  fortresses,  rivers,  and  rivulets, 
are  compendiously  described. 

"  Together  with  choir(>  Collections  of  various  Discpve-' 
ries.  Remarkable  Observations,  Theological  Notions, 
Pohtical  /Axioms,  National  Intrigues,  Polemick  Ihfe- 
reiipes.   Contemplations,    Speculations,    and    several 

curious 


3^4 

curious  and  industrious  Inspections,  lineally  drawn 
from  Antiquaries,  and  other  noted  and  intelligible 
persons  of  Honour  and  eminency.  To  which  is  added 
the  Contemplative  and  Practical  Angler,  by  way  of 
Diversion.  With  a  Narrative  of  that  dextrous  and 
mysterious  Art  experimented  in  England,  and  perfected 
in  more  remote  and  solitary  parts  of  Scotland.  By 
way  of  Dialogue.  Writin  the  year  1658,  but  not  till 
now  made  puolick.  By  Richard  Franck,  Philanthro- 
pus."  8°.  Lond.  1694. 

[One  of  the  most  curious  parts  of  this  work  will  be  found  at 
p.  IJQ,  in  what  relates  to  the  Burbolt,  a  fish  rarely  found  even 
in  the  Trent.  This  fish  is  represented  as  "  absconding  himself 
in  eddies,  and  sometimes  in  arches,  not  far  from  streams  and 
torrents  of  water."  "  He  that  takes  him  (says  the  author,) 
gets  a  reward;  which  a  well-scowred  Red- worm  certainly  ac- 
complishes as  soon  as  any  thing  except  the  Gudgeon,  for  that 
is  a  charm  compels  him  ashore."]  - 

*'  The  Gentleman  Fisher :  or  the  whole  Art  of  Angling. 

8°.  Lond. 

2d  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1727. 

*'  The  True  Art  of  Angling:  by  L  S.  24°.  Lond. 

1696. 

2d  edit. 

"  The  Compleat  Fisher,  or  the  True  Art  of 

Angling,  by  I.  S.  3d  edit."  24".  Lond.  1704. 

4th  edit.  8".  Lond.   17 16. 

6th  edit.  24°.  Lond. 

"  The  Complete  Fisher :  or,   the  True  Art  of  Angling. 

Revised  and  Corrected  by  W.  Wright,  and  other  ex- 

perienc'd  Anglers."  24°.  Lond.  1740. 

[At  the  back  of  the  title  is  a  recommendation  of  the  work, 
signed 

Wm.  Wright,  Kob.  Lewis, 

Rob.  Cole,  Roger  Filewood, 

Wm.  Andrews,  Phillips  Brice, 

J.  Turner,  J.  Hollings, 

which  asserts  that  "  This  book  has  pass'd  several  editions." 
The  places  round  London  for  angling,  noticed  in  this  work, 
are  worth  attention. 

There  is  another  edition  of  the  same  size,  title,  and  date, 
with  a  ditferent  wood  cut  at  the  beginning,  and  with  material 
variations.] 

"  The 


3^5 

"  The  Compkat  Fisherman.  Being  a  lai^e  and  particu^ 
lar  account  of  all  the  several  ways  of  Fishing,  now' 
practised  in  Europe,  by  James,  Saunders,  Esq.  of  New- 
ton Awbery,  upon  Trent."  12°.  Lond.  1724. 

"  The  Genteel  Recreation  :  or  the  Pleasure  of  Angling,  a 
Poem.  With  a  Dialogue  between  Piscator  and  Cory- 
don.  By  John  Whitney,  a  Lover  of  the  Angle."  8°. 
Lond.   1700. 

"  The  School  of  Recreation  ;  or  a  Guide  to  the  most  In- 
genious Exercises,   by  R.  H."  p.  158  to  i8a  ["  On 

Fishing,"]  8°,  Lond.  1701- 

[p.  144  to  166  on  "  Fishing."]  8°-  Lond.  1710. 

8°.  Lond.  1720. 

8°.  Lond.  1732. 

"  The  Secrets  of  Angling,  by  C.  G."  12°.  Lond.  1705, 

•'  Dictionarium  Rusticum  et  Urbanicum.  8°.  Lond.  1704- 

2d  edit. 

3d  edit.  2  vol. 

8°.  Lond.  1726. 

"  The  Angler's  Sure  Guide:  or  Angling  Improved  and 
methodically  digested,  by  R.  H.  Esq."  8°-  Lond.  1706. 

*'  The  Innocent  Epicure ;  or  the  Art  of  Angling,  a 
Poem."  8°.  Lond.  1697. 

[ThePrefece  is  by  N.  Tate,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been  the 
author  of  the  book.] 

ad  edit.  12°.  1713. 

"  The  Art  of  Angling.  8°.  Lond.   1741. 

[This  appears  to  be  the  same  poem  with  the  foregoing;  and 
is  likewise  called  the  second  edition,  in  the  title.] 

"The  Whole  Art  of  Fishing:  being  a  Collection  and 
Improvement  of  all  that  has  been  written  on  this  sub- 
ject:  with  many  new  Experiments.  12°.  Lond.   1714. 

2d  edit,  entitled  "■  The  Gentleman  Fisher :  or 

the  Whole  Art  of  Angling."  8°.  Lond.   1727. 

"  A  Discourse  of  Fish  and  Fish  Ponds:  by  a  Personof 
Honour."  S".  Lond. 

8°.  Lond.  1713. 

8°.  Lond.   «7J5. 

This  work  is  also  found  as  an  appendage  to 

♦'  The  Gentleman  Farmer."  8°-  Lond.   1726. 

fThe  author  wss  tb?  Hon.  Roger  North.] 

»•'  Thr 


366 

«'  The  Country  Gentleman's  Vade  Mecum,"  by  G.  Ja- 
cob, Gent.  8°-  Lend.  1717.  contains  p.  25— 31.  a 
few  pages  upon  Fish,  Angling,  Fish -Ponds,  &c. 

"The  Compleat  Sportsman,"  by  Giles  Jacob.  11°. 
Lond.  1718.  Part  III.  of  which  relates  to  "Fish 
and  Fishing." 

"England's  Interest;  or  the  Gentleman  and  Farmer's 
Friend:  by  Sir  J.  Moore."  8°.  Lond.  1731.  Contains 
(p.  99  to  157)  "  The  Angler's  Guide." 

"  The  Gentleman  Angler."  8°.  Lond.  1726. 

3d  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1736. 

3d  edit.   8°.  Lond.  without 

date. 

,.  This  work  was  again  printed  as  a  novel  publi- 
cation in  1786,  viz.  "The  Gentleman  Angler.  Con- 
taining brief  and  plain  Instructions  by  which  .the 
young  beginner  may  in  a  short  time  become  a  perfect 
Artist  in  Angling  fur  all  kinds  of  Fish.  By  a  Gentle- 
man, who  has  made  it  his  diversion  upwards  of  fourteen 
years."  12°.  Lond.  1786. 

"  Piscatory  Eclogues."  8°.  Lond.  1729. 
[By  Moses  Browne.] 

8°.  Lond.  1739-. 

3d    edit,    entitled    "  Angling 

Sports,  in  Nine  Piscatory  Eclogues."  8°.  Lond.  1773. 

"Piscatio.  Or-Angling.  A  Poem.  Written  originally 
in  Latin  by  S.  Ford,  D.  D.  and  inscrib'd  to  Archbishop 
Sheldon.  Translated  from  the  Musse  Anglicanse,  by 
Tipping  Silvester,  M.  A.  Fellow  of  Pembroke  College, 
Oxon. 

Lucetj  eamus 

Quo  ducit  Gubj  piscemur, 

Hor.  Epist.  4.  Lib.  1." 
8°.  Oxford.  1733. 

[The  •original  is  in  the  Musae  AngllcanaSj  Vol.  I.  or  rather- 
"  Musarum  Anglicanarum  Analecta  :  sive,  Poeraata  quoKdam. 
raelioris  notae,  seu  hactenus  Inedita,  seu  sparsimEditaj  in  unuin 
Volumen  congesta."  8°.  Oxon.  I692,  p.  129.  "  Piscatio  ad 
Gilb.  Archiepisc.  Cant."  signed,  "  Simon, Ford,  S.  T.  P."] 

"  Sportsman's  Dictionary;  or  the  Gentleman's  Com- 
panion in  all  Rural  Recreations."  %  vol.  8°.  1735. 

"The 


?>^7 


a 


(I 


The;  British    Angler:    or    a    Pocket-Companion   for 

Gentleman   Fishers,    by  John   Williamson>   Gent." 

.8°.  Lond.: 

, 8°'  Lond.  1740. 

Fishing  and  Hunting."  8°.  Lond- 
"  The  Art  of  Angling,  Rock,  and  Sea,  Fishing :  with  a 

Natural  History  of  River,  Pond,  and  Sea  Fish,  by  R. 

Brookes."  8  .  Lond.  1740. 

2d  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1743. 

3d  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1770. 

ijth  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1774. 

5th  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1781. 

6th  edit.  8".  Lond.  1785. 

7:hedrt.  8°.  Lond.  1789. 

"a  new  edit."  8°.  Lond.   1793. 

"a  new  edit."  8°.   Lond.  1801. 

"a  new  edit."  8°.  Lond.  1807. 

[In  Ford  of  Matichester's  Catalogue  of  Books  for. 18.11,  an 
cdiijon  printed  at  Dublin  in  1778  is  mentioned.] 

•'  The  Art  of  Angling,  by  R.  Brookes,  M.  D.  now  im- 
proved with  Additions,  and  formed  into  a  Dictionary." 
8°,  Lond.  1766. 

'' Angling,  a  Poem."  ia°.  Lond.   1741.  adedit. 

"The  Art  of  Angling  improved,  in  all  its  parts,  especially 
Fly-fishing,"  by  Richard  Bowlker.  ,I3^  Worcester. 
;  [Certainly  published  before  l/Sp.] 

, . . .' ad  edit,  by  Charles  Bowlker,  his 

son.  8°. 

3d  edit.  8°.  Birmingham. 

[Printed  with  Baskerville's  types.] 

" 4th  edit.  8°.  Birm.  1788. 

5ih  edit.  8°.  Birm.  1792. 

"a    new    edition,"    by    Charles 

Bowlker,  of  Ludlow.  8°.  Ludlow.  1806. 
'The  Angler's  Magazine,  or  necessary  and  delightful 
Store-house;  wherein  every  thing  proper  to  be  known 
relating  to  his  art,  is  digested  in  such  a  method  as  to 
assist  his  knowledge  and  practice  upon  bare  inspec- 
tion ;  being  the  compleatest  manual  ever  published 
upon  the  subject]  largely  treating  of  all  things  relating 

to 


<e  ' 


568 

»o  Fisb  attd  Fishing,  and  whereby  the  Angler  may 
acquire  his  experience  without  the  help  of  a  Master. 
By  a  Lover  of  that  innocent  and  healthful  diversion." 
I2°-  Lond.  1754., 
«  The  Angler's  Eight  Dialogues,  in  Verse/'  S".  Lond. 

1758. 
«'  The  Art  of  Angling !  Eight  Dialogues,  m  Verse."  8". 
"  The  Universal  Angler;  or  that  art  improved  in  all  its 

parts,  especially  in  Fly-fishing."  8°.  Lond.  1766 

"  The  -Complete  Sportsrhan,  or  Country  Gentleman's 

Recreation.    By  Thomas  Fairfax."  8".  Lond 

[P.  123  to  173,  on  Angling.]!  ; 

"  The   Complete   Fisherman ;    or  Universal   Angler." 

8°.  Lond. 

2d  edit.  S".  Lond.  1778.^ 

'•The  Angler's  Compjete  Ass-istant,  being  an  Epitome  of 

the  whole  Art  of  Angling.  4th  edit.  4".  Lond. 
"  The  True  Art  of  Angling."  ia°.  Lond.  1770. 
"  Translation  of  a  Letter  from  the  Hanover  Magazine^ 

N'.  23,  March  21,  1763.     Giving  an  account  of  a 

method  to  breed  Fish  to  advantage."  8°.  Lond.  1778. 
"  The  Angler's  Museum,  or  the  whole  art  of  Float  and 

Fly-Fishing,  by  Thomas  Shirley.  12°.  Lond.  1784.  ' 

ad  edit.   12°.  Lond. 

........* 3d  edit.  12°.  Lond. 

**  The  Fisherman:  or  Art  of  Angling  made  easy;  by 

Guiniad  Charfey,  Esq.  8°.  Lond. 

2d  edit.  8°.  Lond. 

"  the  North-Country  Angler;  or  the  Art  of  Angling  as 

practised  in  the  Northern  Counties  of  England."  8°. 

Lond.  1786. 

-•••.•.••■ id  edit. 

3d  edit.  8°.  Leeds.  1800. 

•'  A  Concise  Treatise  on  the  Art  of  Auffling :  by  Thomas 

Best,  Gent."  8°.  Lond.  1787. 

•  • ad    edit.  S".  Lond. 

3d    edit.  B".  Lond.  1794. 

4th  edit.  8«.  Lond.  1798. 

5th  edit.  8°.  Lond.  i8d3. 

'••" 6th  edit.  8".  Lond.  1864^ 

"•••••••••' 7th  edit.  8^.  Lond.  iSd;. 

"  A  Concise 


3^9 

8th  edit. 


Lond.  1808; 

i 9th  edit.  8°.  Lond.  1810. 

"  An  Essay  on  the  Right  of  Angling  in  the  River 
Thames,  and  in  all  the  other  public  Navigable  Rivers." 
8°.  Reading. 

*'A  Letter  to  a  Proprietor  of  a  FishWy  in  the  River 
Thames.  In  which  an  attempt  is  made  to  shew  in 
whom  the  Right  of  Fishing  in  public  streams  now  re- 
sides." 2d  edit.  8°.  Reading.  lijSyJ] 

"  The  Natural  History  of  Fishes  and  Serpents,"  by  R. 
Brookes.  To  which  is  added  an  Appendix,  containing 
the  whole  Art  of  Float  and  Fly-Fishing."  8".  Lond. 
1790. 

"  The  Young  Angler's  Pocket-Companion,  by  Ralph 
Cole,  Gent."  la".  Lond.  1795. 

*'  The  Modern  Angler,  being  a  practical  Treatise  on  the 
Art  of  Fishing,  &c.  in  a  Series  of  Letters  to  a  friend, 
by  Robert  Salter,  Esq."  12".  Lond. 

"  Angling  in  all  its  Branches,  reduced  to  a  Complete 
Science :  in  three  parts,  by  Samuel  Taylor,  Gent.  8°. 
Lond.  1800. 

"  Practical  Observations  on  Angling  in  the  River  Trent. 
8°.  Newark.  1801. 

"  Every  Man  his  own  Fisherman:  by  Thomas  Smith. 
24°.  Lond. 

"  The  Driffield  Angler,  in  two  parts ;  by  Alexander 
Mackintosh  of  Great  Driffield,  Yorkshire."  8°-  Gains- 
borough. 

The  Angler's  Pocket-Book,  to  which  is  prefixed 
Nobbe's  celebrated  Treatise  on  the  Art  of  Trolling." 
8°.  Norw. 

2d  edit,  with  Nobbes's 

Treatise  affixed.  8°.  Lond. 

3d  edit,  with  the  same 

affixed.  8°-  Lond.  1805. 

"  The  New  and  Complete  Angler,  or  Universal  Fisher- 
man," by  Richard  Pollard,  Esq.  of  Clapton  Middle- 
sex. 8°.  Lond.  1802. 

"  Rural  Sports,  by  W.  B.  Daniel.  Vol.  II.  p.  i  to  373 
relates  to  Fish  and  Fishing :  principally  Angling.  4°. 
Lond.  1802. 

VOL.    II.  B  »  "  Th« 


re 


"  The  Kentish  Angler,  or  the  young  Fisherman's  In- 
structor :  shewing  the  Nature  and  Properties  of  Fish 
which  are  generally  angled  for  in  Kent.  ia°.  Canterb. 
1804. 

'<  The  Complete  Angler's  Vade  Mecum  :  being  a  perfect 
Code  of  Instruction  on  the  above  pleasing  Science;  &c. 
by  Capt.  T.  Williamson,  (Author  of  the  Wild  Sports 
of  India.)  8°.  Lond.  1808. 

"  The  Angler's  Manual,  or  concise  Lessons  of  Ex- 
pi  rieijce,  which  the  Proficient  in  the  delightful  Recrea- 
tion of  Angling  will  not  despise,  and  the  Learners  will 
find  the  Advantage  of  practising:  containing  useful  In- 
structions on  every  approved  method  of  Angling,  and 
particularly  on  the  management  of  the  Hand  and  Rod 
in  each  method.  4°.  Liverp.  1808, 

H.  E. 


%   Spare  your  good. 

[Wood-cut  of  a  lady  sitting  up  in  bed,  apparently  ad- 
dressing a  man  and  woman  seated  by  the  bed  side.] 
4(0.  containing  one  sheet,  Hack  letter.  (Colophon.) 
5f  Hera  endeth  a  lytell  treatyse  very  profitable  for 
e'lery  yonge  man  and  yonge  woman  called  Syrs  spare 
your  good.  Jmprinied  at  London  in  Poules  churche 
yarde  by  Anthony  Kytson. 

A  fragment  of  this  publication,  printed  by  Wynken 
de  Worde,  has  already  been  noticed  in  Cevsura  Literaria, 
I^'  373-  The  present  communication  will  enable  the 
possessors  of  that  work  to  fill  up  the  defective  lines  in  the 
extract  there  given  by  Mr.  Haslewood,  and  to  the 

feneral  reader  the  following  short  account  will  perhaps 
e  acceptable.     It  begins  at  page  2. 

"  Euen  aboute  the  moneth  of  Maye 
J  wene  it  was  the  thirde  daye 
Of  that  same  moneth  as  J  gesse 
And  so  it  was  so  haue  J  blesse 
For  J  linowe  it  well  by  a  thinge 
Of  the  whiche  J  haue  had  knowledgynge 

As 


371 

ixs  here  after  ye  shall  heare  full  well 

Of  a  knightes  sone  how  it  befell 

Ariche  knight  there. was  in  Frau'ce  J  vnderstande 

And  was  a  man  of  greate  lande 

A.nd  hyght  syr  Thomas  perlore 

A  sone  he  had  with  his  wyfe  and  no  more 

And  she  was  called  faire  Ysaungrayne 

And  their  sone  called  Rafelyne." 

This  youth,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  extract  given  in 
the  before-mentiojied  work,  "  learned  all  vyce  and  lefte 
vertue."  At  the  death  of  his  parents,  having  buried  them 
"  after  the  comune  vse," 

forth  he  wente  to  his  company  anonc 

And  saide  sirs  let  vs  be  mery  euerychone- 
Syr  they  saide  welcome.be  ye  truely 
And  we  all  pray  you  hartely 
To  syt  by  vs  and  kepe  company 
So  he  did  and  thanked  them  hertely 
They  called  anone  for  meat  &  drincke  of  the  bestfe 
For  to  eate  and  drincke  as  them  lest 
And  whan  they  had  eaten  and  dronken  theyr  fyll 
Syr  they  saide  know  ye  nothinge  of  oure  wyll 
No  by  my  faith  he  saide  incontinente 
But  by  saint  Thomas  of  Kente 
J  woulde  haue  at  the  hasarde  a  cast  or  two 
For  to  lea  me  to  caste  the  dyce  to  and  fro 
And  if  here  be  any  body  that  wyll  for  money  playc 
J  haue  yet  in  my  purse  money  and  pledges  gaye 
Some  be  nobles,  some  be  crownes  of  Fraunce 
Haue  at  all  who  wyll  of  this  daunce 
One  of  them  answered  with  that  worde 
And  caste  a  bale  of  dyce  on  the  borde 
And  saide  maister  Rafeleyne  wyll  ye  haue  a  fytte 
Haue  at  all  yf  ye  wyll  sytte 
Maister  Rafeleyne  drewe  to  his  pouche 
Tyll  he  had  loste  coyne  and  owche 
'  Than  he  drewe  out  pledges  fresshe  and  gaye 
Tyll  all  was  gone  and  played  awaye 
Home  he  goeth  lyke  as  he  were  out  of  his  mindc 
And  solde  al  his  goodea  before  and  behynde 
And  to  harlotes  he  goeth  and  to  baudes  bolde 
For  he  thought  his  money  shoulde  euer  holde 
To  the  tauerne  and  to  the  bordcll  he  him  drest 
For  al  that  his  felowship  did  cousel  liim  for  the  best 

B  js  2  But 


But  at  the  laste  whan  all  was  gone 

Than  he  began  to  make  his  mone 

Like  as  here  after  ye  sbal  vnderstande  _ 

Therfore  Spare  ydur  good  that  ye  haue  in  hahde. 
fl  Thus  endeth  the  Prologue. 
Next  follows  the  "  mone,"  which  consists  of  thirfeeii 
octave  stanzas,  the  three  last  of  which  have  been  already 
printed  in  Cera*,  Lit.  and  serve  to  shew  the  nature  of  the 
complaint  sufficiently.  I  shall  therefore  content  myself 
vvith  giving  the  first  stanza,  the  fourth  line  of  which  ap- 
peals more  applicable  to  the  present  day,  than  that  in 
which  %pare  your  good  originally  appeared. 

"  Alas  my  good  is  spente  J  haue  no  more 
Therfore  J  am  troubled  sore 
With  great  greuaunce  in  my  herte  rote 
To  spende  a  pounde  was  but  a  small  note 
Lyke  as  J  was  vsed  to  do  here  and  there 
Therfore  J  must  now  mirth  forbeare 
Whyche  here  before  J  did  not  vnderstande 
Therfore  spare  your  good  that  ye  haue  in  hahde." 

P.B. 


%  The  Eyght  Tragedie  of  Seneca,  entiltiledAgamemndn^ 
Translated  out  of  Latin  in  to  English,  ly  lohn 
Studley,  Student  in  Trinitie  Colledge  in  Cambridge. 
Imprinted  at  Lotidon  in  Flete  streat,  beneath  the 
Conduit,  at  the  signe  6f  S.  John  Enangelyst,  by 
Thomas  Colwelt.    Anno  Jtiomini  M.  D.  LXvL 

Such  is  the  exact  title  of  a  volume,  which  is  declared 
by  Warton  *  to  be  "  exceedingly  scarce,  and  hardly  to 
be  found  in  the  choicest  libraries  of  those  who  collect 
our  poetry  in  black-letter."  The  copy,  from  which  the 
present  extract  is  given,  was  left  to  the  Bodleian  library 
by  the  learned  Selden,  f  and  is  bonnd  with  six  other 
pieces  of  equal  rarity.  It  is  in  small  octavo,  and  the  sig- 
natures extend  to  G. 

Of  Studley  little  is  now  known.  In  his  dedication  to 
Sir  William  Cecil,  then  Chancellor  of  Cambridge,  he 

*  History  of  English  Poetry,  yol.lU.p.'i%%. 
t  It  is  now  marked  8".  H.  +4.  Art.  Seld. 

informs 


373 

informs  us  that  he  was  educated  at  Westminster ;*  th? 
title  of  his  Agantpmnon  shews  us  his  college,  and  Chet* 
wood, -on  what  authority  I  know  not,  says  that  he  was 
killed  in  Fl9.nders  in  1587  f  Wood  speaks  of  him  as  "a 
noted  poet  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,"  J  and,  from  the 
numerous  commendatory  offerings  prefixed  to  his  perform- 
ance, it  seems  that  he  was  held  in  high  estimation  by  his 
contemporaries. 

The  present  volume,  although  mentioned  by  Rjtson, 
does  not  appear  to  have  been  inspected  by  him,  since  it 
contains  several  additional  names  to  his'  Biographia 
Poetic^.  The  first  of  these  is  Thomas  Newce,  who  has 
prefixed  two  copies  of  verses,  one  in  Lajiti,  the  other  in 
English-  This  gentleman  was  a  Fellow  of  Pembroke 
Hall  in  1562  ;  he  was  afterwards  Rector  of Oxburgh,  Nor- 
folk? of  Beccles,  Weston  Market,  and  Vicar  of  Gaysley, 
Suffolk;  and  Feb.  21,  1584 — 5,  becanve  Prebendary  of 
Ely  Cathedral.  He  died  at  Gaysley  on  the  8th  of  No- 
vember, 161 7,  where  he  was  buried,  and  had  an  epitaph 
in  verse,  given  to  his  njemory,  from  which  we  learn  that 
he  had  five  sons  aijd  seven  daughters  by  bis  wife  Anne, 
who  died  in  1613.  §  The  oiily  literary  production  now 
extant  of  Newce  is  his  translation  of  the  Octavia  of 
Seneca,*  printed  in  Newton's  Collection.  || — W.  R.  has 
also  two  pieces,  one  Latin,  and  one  English.  H.  C.  is 
very  possibly  Henry  Campion  of  Emanuel  College,  who 
has  one  piece  in  Sorrowps  Joy,  1603 .  Thomas  Delapeend 
is  only  known  frojn  his  unusually  rare  little  volume,  The 
Pleasant  Fable  of  Hermaphroditus  and  Salmacis,  ly  T. 
Peend,  Qent.  with  a  morall  in  English  uerse.  Jlnno 
Domini.  1565.  mense  Decembris.  8vo.  printed  by  Col- 
well  J  it  begins 

"  Dame  Venus  once  by  Mercurye 
comprest,  a  chylde  did  beare : 

*  "  J  was  spmtyme  scholler  in  the  Queenes  Maiesties  grainmer 
9chole  at  Westminster,"  Sign.  A  ii.  b. 

t  The  British  Theatre,  containing  the  lives  of  the  English-Dra- 
matic poets.  Dublin,  1750,  p.  7. 

J  Athena  Oxqa-Vol.  I.  col.  339. 

§  This  epitaph'  is  preserved  in  Bentham's  History  of  Ely,  p.  151- 

II  This  rare  volume  is  noticed  at  large  in  Warton,III.  382, and 
several  extracts  from  it  are  given  in  Cciuura  Literaria,  IX.  386. 
i):t  was  printed  in  4to.  by  Marsh,  15S1. 

■  B  3  For 


374 

For  beuty  farre  excellyng  all 
that  erst  before  hyta  weare,"  &c. 

W.  Parkar  is  a  name  T  do  not  remember  to  have  seen 
to  any  other  production.  The  concluding  copy  of  verses, 
by  T.  B.  I  shall  transcribe,  as  the  names  of  several  con- 
temporary poets  are  introduced. 

"  T.  B.  to  the  Reader. 

"  When  Heitvood  did  in  perfect  verse 

and  dolfuU  tune  set  out 
And  by  hys  smouth  and  fyled  style 

declared  had  aboute 
What  toughe  reproche  the  Troyans  of 

the  hardy  Grekes  receyued. 
When  they  of  towne,  of  gpods,  &  lyues 

togyther  were  depryued. 
Hove  wel  did  then  hys  freindes  requite 

his  trauayle  and  his  payne. 
When  vnto  hym  they  haue  (as  due) 

ten  thousand  thankes  agayne ' 
What  greater  prayse  might  Firgill  get  ? 

what  more  renoume  then  this. 
Could  haaeben  gyuen  vnto  hym, 

for  wrytyng  verse  of  hys  ? 
Did  Firgill  ought  request  but  thys, 

in  labouryng  to  excell  ? 
Or  what  did  fame  gyue  to  him  more, 

then  prayse  to  beare  the  bell  ? 
May  Heywood  this  alone  get  praj'se, 

and  Phaer  be  cleane  forgott. 
Whose  verse  &  style  doth  far  surmount 

and  gotten  hath  the  lot  ? 
Or  may  not  Googe  haue  parte  with  hym, 

whose  trauayle  and  whose  payne. 
Whose  verse  also  is  full  as  good, 

or  better  of  the  twaine  ? 
A  Neuyle  also  one  there  is, 

in  verse  that  gyues  no  place 
To  Heitvood  (though  he  be  fiill  good) 

in  vsyng  of  his  grace. 
Nor  Goldinge  can  haue  lesse  renome 

whych  Oaiof  dyd  translate: 
And  by  the  thondryng  of  hys  verse 

hath  set  in  chayre  of  state, 

Witli 


375 

With  him  also  (as  semeth  me) 

our  Edwardes  may  compare. 
Who  nothing  gyuyng  place  to  hym 

doth  syt  in  egall  *  chayre. 
A  great  sorce  more  J  recken  myght, 

with  Heiwood  to  compare. 
And  this  our  aucthor'one  of  them 

to  compte  J  will  not  spare. 
Whose  paynes  is  egall  with  the  rest 

in  thys  he  hath  begun. 
And  lesser  praye  deserueth  not 

Then  Heiwonds  worke  hath  done. 
Gyue  tJierfore  Studidy  parte  of  prayse, 

to  recompence  hvs  payne: 
For  egall  labour  euenuore, 

deserueth  egall  gayne. 
.    Read  ear  thou  iUdge,  then  iudge  thy  fill. 
But  iudge  the  best,  and  mend  the  ill." 

Studley's  Agamemnon  deserves  peculiar  notice,  both  as 
:i  specimen  of  one  of  the  earliest  efforts  at  translation  by 
our  native  writers,  and-for  the  ability  with  which  it  was 
performed.  A  part  of  the  last  scene,  which  was  added 
by  the  translator,  has  been  already  given  in  the  Censtira. 
The  following  lines  are  from  the  commencement  of  the 
tragedy,  and  will  serve  to  shew  that  Studley's  povyers 
were  by  no  means  contemptible. 

<■'  Thyestes, 

"  Departing  from  y^  darkned  dens 

whiche  Dttis  low  doth  kepe, 
Loe  here  J  am  sent  out  again 

from  Tartar  dungeon  depe, 
Thyestes  J,  that  whether  coast 

to  shun  do  stand  in  doubt, 
Thinfernall  feendes  J  flye,  the  foalke 

of  yearth  J  chase  about. 
My  conscience  so  abhors,  that  J 

should  nether  passage  make, 
Appauled  so  with  feare  and  dread 

my  tremblyng  sinews  shake; 

*  Egalljfyaa/,  Chaucer  uses  the  ?ubstantive-rr"  she  is  thepreisT 
in?  of  this  world,  and  she  is  as  thise  martirs  in  egalitte."  Personet 
Tale,  p.  374.    Tyrwhitt,  4to.  1798. 

B  B  4  My 


Z1^ 

My  fathers  house,  or  rather  yet 

my  brothers  J  espye. 
This  is  the  ould  and  antique  porche 

of  Fehps  progenye. 
Here  first  the  Greekes  on  princes  hedds 

do  place  the  royall  crowne. 
And  here  in  throne  aloft  they  lye, 

that  ietteth  vp  and  downe. 
With  statelye  scepter  in  theyr  hand, 

eake  here  theyr  courtes  do  lye. 
This  is  theyr  place  of  banquetyng, 

returne  therfore  will  J. 
Naye,  better  were  it  not  to  haunt 

the  lothsome  Liwilo  lakes, 
Wher  as  the  Stygion  porter  doth 

aduaunce  with  lustye  crakes 
His  tryple  gorge  be  hong  with  mane 

shagg  hearye,  rustic,  blacke: 
Wher  Jxions  carkas  linked  fast 

the  whyrlyng  wheele  doth  racke. 
And  rowleth  styll  vppon  him  selfe  : 

whear  as  full  oft  in  vayne 
Much  toyle  is  lost,  (the  tottryng  stone 

down  tomblyng  backe  agayne) 
Whear  growing  guts  the  gredie  gripe 

do  gnaw  with  rauenyng  bitts. 
Wher  pairched  vp  with  burning  thurst 

amydd  the  wanes  he  sytts. 
And  gapes  to  catche  the  lletyng  flood 

with  hungry  chapps  be  guylde. 
That  paies  his  painefull  punyshment, 

whose  feast  the  gods  defylde': 
Yet  that  olde  man  so  stept  in  yeares 

at  length  by  tract  of  tyme. 
How  great  a  parte  belonges  to  rac 

and  porcion  of  his  ciyme  ? 
Account  we  all  the  grysly  ghostes, 

whom  gyltie  found  of  ill. 
The  Gnosian  iudge  in  plutoes  pytts 

doth  tosse  in  tormentes  styll : 
Thyestes  J  in  dryrye  dedes 

wyll  far  surmount  the  rest." 

Besides  the  tragedy  just  noticed,  Stiidley  translated  the 
Medea  Hyppolitus,  and  Hercules  Oeteus,  which  were  in- 
cluded 


377 

eluded  in  Newton's  collection,  1581,  but  which  were 
probably  printed  separately,  although  no  copies  of  them 
have  been  discovered.     His  other  works  were 

i.Two  tributes,  in  Latin  verses,  "in  obitum  clarissimi 
viri  Nicolai  Carri,"  appended  to  "  Demosthenis  Gracorum 
Oratorum  Principis,  Olynthiacce  orationes  tres,  &  Phi- 
lippicce  quatuor,  e  Greco  in  Latinum  conuerscB,  a  Nico- 
lao  Carro."  &c.  4to.  by  Denham,  1571.  The  second 
of  these,  as  being  the  shortest,  I  shall  transcribe. 

"  Quaerenti  nuper  cur  sic  Cantabria*  fleret, 
Et  toties  clamet :  spes  mea,  Carre,  vale  :— 
Talia  respondit:  gemo  tnemet  vulnere  laesam, 
Dum  mihi  Car  periit,  y^Btp  mihi  manca  cadit." 

3.  The  Pageant  of  Popes,  contayninge  the  lyues  of 
all  the  Bishops  of  Rome,  from  the  leginninge  of  them 
to  the  yeare  of  Grace  1555,  cSc.  Shewing  manye 
straunge,  notorious,  outragious  and  iragicall  partes, 
played  by  them  the  like  whereof  hath  not  els  bin  hearde; 
both  pleasant  and  profitable  for  this  age.  Written  in 
Latin  by  Maister  Bale,  and  now  Englished  u.ith  son- 
drye  additions  by. J.  S. — Anno  1574.  410  by  Marshe. 
It  is  dedicated  to  Thomas,  Earl  of  Sussex,  and  possesses 
some  lines  to  the  reader,  by  T.  R.  gentleman,  which  give 
a.  curious  description  of  the  Pope  and  Antichrist, 

P.B. 


^  An  Italian  Grammer  Written  in  latin  by  Scipio 
Lentvlo  a  Neapolitaine  and  turned  in  Englishe  by 
H.  G.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas  Vautrbullier 
dwelling  in  the  Blacke  frieres.  IS'JS-  Oct.  pp.  155.  j 

.  Dedicated  "  to  the  right  vertvovs  Mystres  Mary,  and  Mys-. 
tres  Francj's  Berkeley,"  daughters  of  Henry  Lord  Berkley, 
■whose  favourable  acceptance  is  sought  although  "  rudely  at- 
tired with  this  Englishe  habit."  Ending,  "  so  humble  I  take 
my  leaue,  the  4  of  December,  1574.  Yours  vvholy  at  com- 
maundement,  Henry  Granthan."  f  *  * 

•  Carr  was  Greek  Professor  at  Cambridge. 

+  Probably  the  first  edition  ;  two  of  later  dates  appear  in  Her- 
bert. 

Chronological 


378 

^   Chronological  List  of  the   Works,   in  verse   and 
prose,  of  George  Wither. 

[concluded  from  p.  32.] 

87.  'f  The  grateful  Acknowledgment  of  a  late  trimming 
Regulator.  Humbly  presented  to  that  honest  and 
worthy  CountryrGentleman  who  is  come  lately  to 
Town,  and  stiles  hipiself  by  the  name  of  Multimi  in 
parvo.  With  a  most  strange  and  wonderful  prophecy 
taken  out  of  '  Britains  Genious ;'  written  in  the  time 
of  the  late  wars  by  that  famous  and  divine  poet  of  our 
age.  Captain  George  Wither."  Ver.  410.  1688.* 

-  This  can  only  be  ranged  withiii  the  pale  of  Wither's 
publications,  from  containing  a  reprint  of  a  part  of  his 
"  Prosopopceia  Britannica,"  which  begins 

"  When  here  a  Scot  shall  think  his  throne  to  set." 

The  following  titles  of  productions  not  printed,  are 

mostly  recorded  in  Wither's  own  Catalogue. 

88.  "  An  Apology  to  the  Lords  of  the  Council,  in  justi- 
fication of  the  reproof  of  vices  in  his  poems." 

8g.  "  A  Treatise  of  antieut  Hieroglyphicks,  with  their 
various  significations."     A  MS.  lost. 

90.  "  The  Pursuit  of  Happiness:  being  a  character  of 
the  extravagancy  of  the  author's  affections  and  passions 
in  his  youth."  Prose. 

gi.  "  Riddles,  Songs,  and  Epigrams." 

ga.  "  A  Discourse  concerning  the  plantations  of  Ulster 

*  In  the  following  year  was  printed  "  Withers  Redi'ui'utts:  in  a 
small  new-years  gift,  pro  rege  et  grege,  to  his  Royal  Highness  the 
Prince  of  Orange.  Wherein  is  a  most  strange  and  wondeiful  plot, 
lately  found  and  discovered,  and  recommended  to  all  the  imposing 
members  of  the  Church  of  England  ;  to  be  by  them  acted,  as  part 
of  their  Lent-confession:  viz.  to  all  Roman  Catholick  priests  and 
Jesuits  of  persecutingprinciples  and  profession.  With  the  arraign- 
ment and  trial  of  Innocent  the  Xtth,  present  pope  of  Rome.  Re- 
fused last  Lent  to  be  licensed,  by  reason  of  the  matter  therein  con- 
tained.    By  T.  P.  Printed  in  the  year  i68g."  4.to. 

In  thisjthe  medley  manner  of  some  of  Wither's  pamphlets  is 
aptly  mimicked. 

in 


?>19 

in  Ireland ;  with  pre-conjectures  of  what  consequents 
would  probably  ensue."  Prose.  (Wood  says  this  was 
prinled.) 

93.  "The  Dutchess." 

94.  "  Domestick  Devotions." 

95.  "  A  Funeral  Elegie." 

96.  "  A  tract  of  Usury;  wherein  lending  for  increase, 
which  is  forbidden  in  scripture,  is  distinguished  from 
that  which  is  lawful." 

97.  "  Familiar  Epistles."  Prose,  lost. 

98.  "  The  Author's  Confession  of  his  Faith,  both  in  fun- 
damental and  in  relation  to  most  points  controverted 
by  men  of  several  judgements  in  religion." 

99.  "  A  precatory  Meditation  and  soliloquy  with  God, 
on  the  behalf  of  his  children  and  posterity." 

100.  '-  A  Discourse  to  a  Friend,  Couching  the  consola- 
tions in  close  imprisonment." 

loi.  '^  Vaticinium  poeticum."  In  Verse.* 
102.  "  Caveat  Emptor."  In  Prose  f 
'  103.  "  Carmen  Ternarium  Semicynicum." 

104.  "  Know  Thyself."  In  Verse. 

105.  The  true  state  of  the  Cause  betwi^:t  the  King  and 
Parliament."     In  Prose.     Mislaid  or  lost. 

106.  "  The  Delinquents'  Purgation." 

107.  "  Three  Grains  of  Frankincense."  In  Verse.  J 

108. 

*  This,  says  Wood,  was  reprinted  in  Fragmenta  Prophetica:  but 
Wood  was  certainly  mistaken. 

t  The  following  allusion  occurs  in  "Fides  Anglkana."  "  ThJs 
remonstrant,  and  many  more,  are  (among  other  frequent  upbraid- 
ings  and  provocations)  jeered  with  this  untimely  and  unsavoury 
caution,  caveat  emptor  ;  which  hath  oblicjuely  a  worse  reflec- 
tion upon  'venders  than  buyers  in  their  condition  :  implying  rather 
cwveant  'venditores,  in  regard  it  is  a  caveat  to  be  given  before-hand, 
&c." 

\  This  was  printed  in  iS5i,and,  had  for  its  fuller  title — "Three 
grains  of  Spiritual  Frankincense  infused  into  three  hymrtes  of 
praise."  It  forms  "  a  public  thanhgi'ving  for  the  last  day  of  the 
late  King's  [Charles  the  First's]  life,  and  the  first  of  England's  re- 
suming her  liberty  ;"  and  was  written  as  an  earnest  desire  to  per- 
form somewhat  which  might  shew  the  author  thankful  to  God, 
and  to  those  friends,  by  whose  mercy  he  and  his  family  had  been 
preserved  from  perishing  under  some  late  pressures.  The  dedica- 
tion 


38o 

1 08.  "  A  Declaration  in  the  person  of  Oliver  Cromwell 
given  into  his  own  hand^  and  tending  to  the  settling 
of  such  a  Government  as  he  never  intended."  In 
Prose.  * 

109.  "  A  private  address  to  the  said  Oliver,  in  prose  and 
verse ;  offering  things  pertinent  to  his  consideration, 
into  his  hand,  sealed  up.  f 

jio.  "  Thepersecution  of  the  Tongue  among  Brethren."  J 

111.  "A  Legacy  to  my  Children,  and  an  Elegy."  In 
Verse.     (See  N°  81  of  this  list.) 

112.  "  The  History  of  the  Pestilence  j,  or  proceedings  of 
Justice  and  Mercy."  This,  says  vVood,  goes  about 
in  MS.  It  may  be  supposed  the  same  with 
"  Britain's  Rememlrancer."  Perhaps  a  selection 
from  it.  X 

Occasional  verses  by  Wither  were  printed  with 
Browne's  Britannia's  Pastorals,  1613,  and  1616;  Dray- 
ton's Polyolbion,  Part  II.  16:52;  Smith's  Virginia,  1636; 
Hayman's  Quodlibets,  1629;  Wastell's  Micro-Biblion, 
1639;  Butler's  Feminine  Monarchy,  1632;  Blaxton's 
Usurer,  1634;  Carter's  relation  of  an  expedition  into 
Kent  and  Sussex,  1650.  A  Latin  poem,  signed  G.  W. 
and  affixed  to  P.  Fisher's  Marston-Moor,  may  also  belong 
to  him.  fn  Mr.  Pinkerton's  preface  to  Ancient  Scotish 
poems,  17.86,  he  speaks  of  pieces  in  the  Bannatyne  MS. 
by  Hey  wood  and  IVither:  from  his  Appendix  it  appears 
that  the  latter  can  only  claim  his  celebrated  song,  put 

tion  is  addressed  to  Bradshaw.  W.Ford,of  Manchester,  had  a  copy- 
in  his  Catalogue  for  iSii,  which  is  the  only  one  1  have  traced, 
The  subject  must  have  made  the  book  very  scarce,  and  disgrace- 
fully marks  the  time-serving  versatility  of  Wither's  pen,  while  it 
serves  to  account  for  many  of  his  subsequent  sufferings. 

*  This  is  spoken  of  in  his  "Cordial  of  Confection,''^  'fiS9i  ^^ 
having  been  shown  to  Oliver  Cromwell,  •'  to  direct  him  how  to 
settle  a  righteous  government." 

f  In  his  Fragmenta  Propheiica,  p.  loj,  Wither  speaks  of  scvergl 
Addresses  made  to  Oliver  and  his  son  Richard,  while  they  exercised 
the  supreme  power,  "  amounting  to  above  two  quires  of  paper;" 
in  which  were  many  seasonable  precautions  and  remembrances  to 
them  tendered  with  a  sober  boldness.  But  these  being  delivered 
into  their  own  hands  sealed  up,  and  not  imprinted,  were  omitted 
to  be  extracted  from  in  the  general  review  of  his  writings. 

J  Mentioned  in  his  "  Brief  Defence,  &f"    Fide  sufra  p.  ai. 

into 


38i 

into  the  Scotish  idiom  :  "  Sail  a  woman's  goodness 
move,"  &c.  Under  Faithorne's  bead  of  Noah  Bridges* 
1661,  are  four  English  verses,  signed  G.  W.  which 
Granger  interprets  Geo.  Wither.  Mr  Bindley  has  a  MS. 
poem  by  Chr.  Brooke  on  the  death  of  Sir  Arthur  Chiches- 
ter, with  verses,  prefixed  by  Wither.    (See  Brit.  Bill. 

Many  were  the  encomiums  bestowed  on  Wither  by  his 
contemporaries,  and  many  have  been  the  sarcasms  vented 
since.*     His  poetry  and  his  politics  rendered  him  emi- 
nently 

*  See  among  others  a  snarling  one  from  the  Auctio  Da'visiana, 
printed  in  Gent.  Mag.  for  Sept.  1795.  Ritson  says,  that  by  his 
long,  dull,  puritanical  rhimes,  Wither  acquired  the  name  and 
character  of  the  £»^/2jA  Bfliizaj:  but  this  title  I  have  not  traced 
beyond  Himself.  He  mollifies  it  by  adding — "  his  more  juvenile 
pieces  would  not  discredit  the  best  writer  of  his  age."  Eng.  Songs, 
Vol.  I.  p.  127.  Walter  Harte,  in  his  Essay  on  Satire,  character- 
izes him  as  "  Fanatic  Wither,  fam'd  for  rhimes  and  sighs." 
Wither  says,*  in  his  Triple  Paradox,  "...my  own  phanatick  brain 
is  cause  of  all  whereof  I  do  complain."  But  I  know  not  what  the 
■word  iighs  alludes  to,  unless  it  be  his  tract  entitled  •'  Sighs  for  the 
Pitchers,"  (see  p.  25  of  this  volume.)  The  following  satiric  ex- 
tract from  Sheppcrd's  Mercurius  Elencticus,  No.  19,  refers  to 
the  Carmen  Eucharisticon  of  Wither,  printed  in  the  same  yeat 
(1649)  and  noticed  \n  British  Bibliographer,  I.  317. 

"  At  Westminster  (Sept.  3,  164.9)  they  are  very  lazie,  and  have 
done  very  little  more  of  publique  concernment :  but  as  it  appearetj 
George  Withers  has  beene  very  much  busied  in  composing  a  "Hymne 
of  Praises"  for  their  great  deliverance  and  victory  against  Or- 
mond  ;  which  hee  presented  most  of  the  members  with  on  Tuesday 
last,  (in  hopes  they  would  have  sung  it  the  day  after,  being  the 
thanksgiving  day  appointed)  wherein  hee  has  natt;ered  the  Saintt 
very  artificially,  in  ho^e^  to  get  his  arreares.  But  whether  it  take 
or  not,  I'm  sure  hee  has  shew'd  himselfe  a  compleat  hypocrite,  a 
dissembling  kiiave  ;  as  any  man  that  reads  his  "  Campo-Musas" 
and  compares  it  with  this  "  Oblation,"  may  easily  perceive:— his 
verses  prance  it  in  this  manner. 

"  Withers,  a  dull  and  drunken  sot, 
A  rustique-rymer  o're  a  pot. 
Whose  barren  genius  hath  the  rot, 
Usxhwnla."  Thank-Oblation." 
And  though  his  "  Campo-Musae"  sings 
His  love  and  loyaltie  to  kings, 
Yet  now  hee  calleth  those  vaine  things 

To  this  brave  Reformation. 

Now  honest  Taylor,  I  commit 

This  brazen,  undigested  bit. 

Unto  thy  more  deserving  wit 

T'  examine  and  retort ! 

And 


383 

nentiy  obnoxious  to  both.  But  a  pretty  fair  estimate  of 
his  pretensions  to  literary  distinction,  and  of  the  slights 
his  works  experienced,  is  given  in  the  following  extract 
from  "  Bibliotheca,  or  the  Modern  Library."  * 

"  Melodious  WiTHEK,  by  himself. 
In  learned  tatters  bends  a  shelf. 
Though  none  so  base  as  to  dispute 
His  title  to  a  better  suit. — 
He  sadly  moans,  expos'd  to  air. 
His  cover  thin  and  livery  bare  : 
Grinning  with  envy  to  behold 
His  meaner  rivals  shine  in  gold. 
Thy  dying  Muse,  when  urg'd  by  fate. 
Might  sure  have  claim'd  to  lie  in  state: 
Though  living  scorn'd  and  never  read. 
Like  other  things  admir'd — when  dead  !" 


And  shew  us  how  the  doting  foole 
,  Hath  dabled.in  a  dirty  poole, 
To  give  the  Comtnon- wealth  a  stoole. 
And  vi'e  will  thank,  thee  for't." 

Baxter,  in  the  preface  to  his  "'Poetical  Fragments,"  i6Si,  also 
t^rms  Wither  "  a  rustike  poet,  who  had  been  very  acceptable  to 
some  for  his  prophecies,  and  to  others  for  his  plain  country- 
honesty."  To  Slieppard,  among  several  contemporary  poet- 
asters, Wither  may  be  thought  to  glance  in  the  following  passages 
of  his  "  Triple  Paradox,"  1661. 

"  The  scoffs  and  jeers  cast  on  me  by  the  rimes 
Of  some  reputed  poets  in  these  times, 
Have  been  my  great  advantage  ;  &c. 
Were  I  but  as  ambitious  of  that  name 
A  Poet,  as  they  are,  and  think  I  am  ; 
It  might  a  little  vex  me,  when  I  hear 
How  often,  in  their  pamphlets,  me  they  jeer. 
Because,  truth  seasonably  I  convey 
To  such  as  need  it  in  a  homely  way : 
Best  pleasing  unto  those  who  do  not  care 
To  crack  hard  shells  in  which  no  kemels  are ; 
Or  for  strong  lines,  in  which  is  little  found 
Save  an  affected  phrase  and  empty  sound. 
But  I  do  read  them  with  a  smiling  pity 
To  finde  them  to  be  wicked  who  are  witty. 
At  their  detr.ictions  I  do  not  repine ; 
Their  poems  I  esteem  as  they  do  mine." 

•  See  Nichols'  selection  of  Miscellany  Poems,  HI.  34. 

Aubrey, 


3^3 

Aubrey,  in  his  Auctarium  Vitarum,  in  the  Ashmolean 
Museum,  has  recorded  few  particulars  of  our  author  that 
were  not  transmitted  by  Wood,  from  whose  Athena  the 
principal  data  were  derived,  in  the  able  memoir  presented 
to  the  public  in  N°  I.  of  the  Bibliographer.  In  what 
society  he  studied  while  at  Oxford,*  Aubrey,  by  leavins: 
a  blank,  does  not  appear  to  have  ascertained.  Of  James 
Wither  (the  son  of  John  Wither  of  Manidown  in  the 
county  of  Southampton,  who  died  of  a  decline  in  1627, 
at  the  age  of  28,  being  a  Master  of  Arts  and  Fellow  of 
New  College)  a  memorial  is  placed  within  the  cloisters 
near  New-College  Chapel.  This  probably  was  a  near 
relation  of  the  poet,  t  But  whether  the  latter  was  on  the 
same  foundation,  Mr.  John  Gutch,  who  is  preparing  a 
Selection  from  the  Juvenilia,  &c.  will  be  best  enabled  to 
state,  from  his  own  early  residence  and  present  family 
connexions  in  the  same  university.  At  college  Wither 
probably  continued  not  long,  being  called  away  from  it 
when  he  should  have  sought  "  a  calling"  there :  J  and 
in  some  of  his  early  pieces  he  designates  himself  "of  the 
Society  of  Lincolns  Inn."§  But  the  law  he  followed  not 
as  a  profession  :  ||  for  indeed  at  the  time  he  ranked  him- 
self 

*  Wither,  in  describing  the  occasion  which  gave  rise  to  his 
Satires,  speaks  thus  of  his  matriculation,  aiid  of  the  little  studious 
advantage  he  derived  from  a  college  life. 

"  I  could  not  with  our  idle  students  say 
For  an  excuse,  7  luas  ill-entered : — no. 
There  yet  are  many  know  it  was  not  so. 
And  therefore,  sith  I  came  no  wiser  thence, 
I  must  confesse  it  was  my  negligence." 

t  In  1650  Robert  Wither  published  "  a  description  of  the 
Grand  Signor's  Seraglio."  I  know  not  whether  this  writer  was 
of  the  poet's  family. 

+  At  first  he  describes  himself  to  have  been  an  idler,  till  feeling 
ashamed  to  find  "  other  little  dandiprats,"  surpass  him  in  scho- 
lastic exercises,  he  waded  through  sophistry,  looked  into  ethical 
philosophy,  superficially  studied  natural  philosophy,  went  on  to 
matters  metaphysical,  and  at  last  became  a  wrangler. 

§  He  makes  Fortune  say  to  him  on  his  return  to  a  rural  home : 
"  If  wrangling  in  the  schooles  be  such  a  sport. 

Go  to  your  Ploydens  in  the  Innes  of  Court.""     Satire  I. 

II  It  has  not  been  mentioned  either  by  Dr.  Percy  or  Mr.  Warton, 

th^t 


384 

self  of  that  learned  society,  his  school  of  study  seerHs  to 
have  been  the  Marshalsea-prison :  on  his  release  from 
which,  psalniodic  divinity  appears  principally  to  have 
exercised  his  pen.  The  period  of  his  marriage  I  do  not 
trace;  but  the  valuable  object  of  his  choice  was  made 
known  by  Aubrey.  In  "  Topographical  Miscellanies," 
1792,  Vol.  I.  it  is  queried  whether  he  did  not  itiarry 
Katkerine  Chester  of  Woolvesley,  near  Winchester,  in 
1657.  This  was  not  likely,  because  he  describes  his 
wife's  corporeal  beauties  as  "  worn  out  with  age,"  in 
1661,  only  fourteen  years  after  their  supposed  union:  in 
the  next  place  we  learn  from  himself,  that  the  name  of 
his  wife  was  Elizabeth;  *  and  we  lastly  gather  from 
Aubrey,  that  he  married  Elizabeth  Emerson  of  South 
Lambethj  Surrey,  f  fo/  Whom  he  evidently  cherished 
a  sincere  conjugal  attachment;  J   and  who,  in  return, 

religiously 


that  the  Rev.  Wm.  Bedwell  was  enabled  to  publish  that  curious 
mockery  of  romance  called  "The  Tournament  of  Tottenham," 
in  163 1,  froni  a  MS.  communicated  by  Wither,  and  thus  acknow- 
ledged in  an  epistle  to  the  reader.  "  It  is  now  seven  or  eight 
years  since  I  came  to  the  sight  of  the  copy,  and  that  by  the  means 
of  the  worthy,  and- my  much  honoured  good  friend,  M.  Ge, 
Withers.^  of  whom  also  now  at  length  I  have  obtained  the  use  of 
the  saiiie.  And  because  the  verse  was  then  by  him,  a  man  of  st 
exquisite  judgement  in  this  kinde  of  learning,  much  commended,  as 
also  for  the  thing  it  selfe ;  I  thought  it  worth  while  to  transcribe 
it,  and  to  make  it  public,"  &c.  See  the  poem  particularly  noticed 
byWartoHjin  Vol.  III.  of  his  History,  and  printed  entire  by  Dr. 
Percy,  in  Vol.  II.  of  his  Reliques,  with  variations  in  the  later 
editions  from  Harl.  yiS.  5396.  "  Wither's  poems"  are  entered 
among  the  books  principally  made  use  of  by  Joshua  Poole  in  the 
compilation  of  his  English  Parnassus,  1657. 

*  "  Dear  Betty,  how  inhumanly  opprest 

Art  thou  ?  and  oh !  how  is  my  soul  distrest. 
Now  I  here  think  upon  thy  high  desart. 
And  how  discomfortably  left  thou  art !" 

A  Composure,  &c.  1661. 
t  See  note  in  British  Bibliographer,  Vol.  I.  p.  4»g. 
X  la  the  poem  just  before  quoted,  he  says  of  her : 
"  A  better  woman,  mistress,  mother,  ivife, 
I  never  saw,  nor  shall  see,  during  life. 
To  me,  to  mine,  and  our  poor  neighbourhood. 
She,  in  the  stead  of  a  pbysitian  stood : 

And 


385 

religiously  performed  her  matrimonial  vow,  and  shared 
his  wayward  fate  "  in  sickness  and  in  health."*  Through- 
out several  pages  in  his  "  Cruras  and  Scraps, "f  he  speaks 
of  her  vvith  becoming  fondness  and  passionate  concern; 
bemoans  her  alarming  indisposition,  and  attests  her  long- 
tried  worth;  details  repeated  instances  of  their  mutual 
confidence,  and  with  a  pardonable  and  sometimes  pleas- 
ing minuteness,  indulges  in  a  grateful  retrospect  of  h^er 
piety,  fidelity  and  true  affection,  of  her  prudential  manage- 
ment iri  domestic  concerns,  and  of  strict  propriety  in  all 
the  relative  duties  of  life.  His  prayer  for  her  recovery  is 
breathed  with  devotional  fervour,  though  with  the  most 
entire  resignation  to  the  Divine  will ;  and  our  author,  in 
this  part  of  his  character  at  least,  deserves  to  be  remem- 
bered with  respect,  with  benevolence,  and  with  praise. 
Wither  had  six  children,  t  two  of  whom  were  living  in 
1&61,  and  both  married:  §  but  one  daughter  alone  sur- 
vived 


And  that  no  duty  might  be  left  undone, 
Martha  and  Mary  she  still  join'd  in  one. 
She  could  speak  well,  yet  readier  was  to  hear ; 
Exceeding  pleasant,  and  yet  as  severe 
As  Cato,"  &c. 

Another  tribute  to  her  occurs  in  his  Meditations  on  the  Deca- 
logue, Canto  5. 

*  —  '  the  mercy  which  this  place  affords, 

In  age  and  sickness,  -had  been  naked  boards, 
And  stones  forbfead  ;  had  not  my  H^ife,  by  giving 
What  charity  bestow'd  to  keep  her  living. 
Prevented  for  a  week  what  was  design'd,  &c." 

l''erses  written  in  the  Toiver,  ivhen  beiuas  a  dose  prisoner. 

I   See  an  extract  from  thesepages  mBritisb  Bibliographer,  1.4-29. 
+  This  appears  from  his  own  Epitaph  composed  by  himself  in 
1664.-5. 

"  Beside  the  issue  of  my  brain, 
I  had  six  children,  v/hexeoi  twain 
Did  live,  when  we  divided  «ere." 

§  Wither  gives  an  indistinct  and  quaint  intimation  that  the 
family  of  Hunt  or  Huntley,  (which  was  ennobled  by  a  pedigree) 
intermarried  with  his  own  son  and  daughter : 

"  And  their  two  surnames,  being  joyn'd  together. 
Denominate  my  g'rasi/rsn  Hunt  L'  Wither." 

VOL.  II.  c  c  Yet 


386 

vived  him,  who  became  the  publisher  of  his  meditations 
on  the  Decalogue.  * 

He  complains  in  his  "  Speculum  Speculativum,"  and 
elsewhere,  of  the  thankless  office  he  had  assumed  as 
"  Britain's  Remembrancer,"  and  some  of  his  partizans 
or  "  eminent  persons,"  t  as  he  denominates  them,  en- 
deavoured to  supply  the  unprofitableness  of  his  volunteer 


Yet  his  daughter  in  i6i!g  signs  her  initials  E.  B.  In  the  Course 
of  twenty- seven  years,  however,  she  might  have  married  again. 
Wither,  in  his  "  Sacrifice  of  praise  and  prayer,"  i6Si,  from  which 
the  preceding  couplets  are  extracted,  thus  proceeds  to  spealt  of 
the  wedded  union  of  his  two  children. 

"  Oh  !  let  thy  so  uniting  them  together, 
Make  them  a  mutual  bles&ing  to  each  other  ; 
And  by  considVing  with  due  thankfulness 
What  thou  hast  done  for  me  in  my  distress. 
Make  both  my  children  and  their  whole  descent 
With  thy  good  pleasure  at  all  times  content." 

Again,  in  the  same  "  Sacrifice  or  thank-oblation  :" 

"   What  my  children  suffered,  when  they  had 
No  means  of  comfort,  and  thereby  grew  sad. 
Thou  didst  for  that  a  remedy  provide. 
By  making  them  a  bridegroome  and  a  bridg, 
To  my  good  liking  and  their  own  content, 
Without  self-seeking  or  disparagement." 

In  an  address  to  his  dearly  beloved  children,  written  from  New- 
gate, Feb.  15,  i66i,  he  recommends  them  to  be  obedient  to  theilr 
mother,  «ince  the  enjoyment  of  herconlpany  would  more  than  re- 
compense the  loss  of  his;  God  having  endowed  her  with  so  much 
maternal  prudence  and  love. 

*  See  British  Bibliographer,  II.  30. 

t  "  Many  years  after  th.it  grand  pestilence  in  1625,  during 
■which  I  wrote  my  book  called  "  Britairs  Remembrancer,"  and 
after  publication  thereof:  some  eminent  persons,  having  respect 
thereunto,  endeavoured  of  their  own  accord  (without  my  seekmg) 
that  the  office  of  their  G/y-/{,fwjf»jir««fifr,  thtn  void,  might  have 
been  confened  on  me:  which  motion  though  it  took  pot  effect, 
was  by  me  as  thankfully  taken  as  it  was  lovingly  intended."  (A 
seasonable  Mem  to  the  City  of  London,  16S5,  p.  28.)  Here,  as  in 
other  places.  Wither  wishes  to  convey,  that  worldly  advantage 
was  not  of  his  seeking.  From  the  Commons  Journals,  sO  Oct. 
1647,  it  seems  that  the  Committee  of  the  Navy  Accounts  was  di- 
rected to  consider  of  some  fitting  convenient  place  for  him  in  the 
Custom  House  of  Dover,  but  did  not  fulfil  their  directions. 

vocation 


38; 

vocation  by  procuring  for  him  ihe  office  of  City-Re-' 
membrancer;  but  their  endeavours  failed.  Had  they, 
succeeded,  it  is  not  impossible  that  he  might  have  be- 
come a  sober  citizen  for  life,  instead  of  successively  va- 
cillating from  a  parliamentarian  commander  to  a  com- 
monwealth commissioner,  from  a  satirist  to  a  soothsayer, 
and  from  a  libellous  fanatic  to  a  political  poetaster.  Au- 
brey tells  us,  in  his  brief  biography  of  Wither,  *  that 
"  he  would  make  verses  as  fast  as  he  could  write  them : 
he  was  an  early  observator  of  quicqidd  agunt  homines : 
he  had  a  strange  sagacity  and  foresight  into  mundane 
afifairs:  and  though  he  was  an  easy  rymer  and  no  good 
poet,  he  was  a  good  vates."  The  pertinacious  assumption 
of  this  latter  character  rendered  him  utterly  indifferent 
to  the  preservation  of  the  former;  and  as  poetical  celebrity 
can  neither  be  acquired  nor  sustained  without  much  ear- 
nestness and  effort,  Wither,  by  neglecting  to  cultivate 
that  purer  vein  of  poesy  with  which  by  nature  he  was 
imbued,  has  failed  to  procure  for  himself  an  appropriate 
niche  in  the  temple  of  "  aye-enduring  fame."  By  some 
prejudiced  persons  indeed  he  has  been  regarded  as  a  mere 
seditious  pamphleteer,  with  whom  to  write  and  to  rail 
were  nearly  synonymous.  Hence  Echard  records  in  his 
History,  "  This  month  (May  1667)  died  Mr.  Geo. 
Withers,  poet :  under  the  name  of  verse  and  prediction 
he  undertook  to  revile  all  governments -f-  and  goveriiors, 

•  and 

*  MSS.  in  Mus.  Ashmol.  Oxon. 

■f  It  may  not  here  be  too  much  out  of  place  to  supply  the  fol- 
lowing notices  of  Wither's  concerns  with  the  Parliament,  from  thB 
Journals  of  the  House  of  Commons,  Jan.  i,  1650. 

"  Col.  Dove  reports  from  the  Committee  to  whom  the  petition 
of  George  Wither  Esq.  was  referred,  the  opinion  of  the  said  Com- 
mittee how  the  petitioner  may  be  satisfied. 

"  By  an  order  of  this  House,  dated  9  Feb.  164.1,  they  find  that 
£2000  was  then  granted  to  this  petitioner  towards  the  repair  of 
his  plundered  estate.  And  they  have  seen  also  several  attestations 
upon  oath,  proving  that  the  said  petitioner  was  damnified  more  than 
to  that  value.  They  have  perused  also  a  report  made  to  this  House 
by  the  accomptants  of  the  kingdom,  dated  18  Feb.  164.6,  touching 
the  accompts  of  the  said  Mr.  Wither:  they  have  also  seen  the 
copies  of  tivo  orders  frcn  the  Committee  of  Safety  ;  one  dated  6 
Jan.  164.2,  forimmediate  payment  of  £318.  6.  o.  out  of  the  coinage 
c  c  a  of 


388 

and  published  M  less  than  an  hundred  sevfiral  pieces  ad^ 
ttiired  by  young  people,  especially  those  puritanically  edu-> 
cated:  he  was  a  dangerous  incendiary,  and  able  to  do  a 
great  deal  of  iMischief."  Many  of  his  productions,  it 
must  be  allowed,  were  darkly  tinged  by  the  violence  of 
party  Zeal,*  or  debased  by  the *languagfe  of  controver- 

Of  plate,  kc.  the  other  dated  II 'May,  164.5,  for  immediate  pay- 
ment of  £1517.  +.  o.  out  of  the  sequestrations  of  Surrey. 

"  They  have  alsO  seen  the  copies  of  three  other  warrants  made 
by  General  Essex :  the  first  dated  12  Sept.  1643,  for  immediate 
payment  of  £187.  12.  o.  the  second  dated  13  Sept.  164.3,  for  the 
like  payment  of  ,^294 ;  the  third  dated  28  March,  1644,  for  ^190. 
They  hsye  seen  also  a  copy  of  a  report  to  tliis  House,  by  the  Com  • 
mittee  of  the  Navy,  made  upon  ft  review  of  the  former  arcompts, 
&c.  dated  29  Oct.  1647,  whereby  they  find  that  all  demands  and 
receipts  being  examined,,  the  sura  of  ,^3438.  iS.  4.  was  then  I'e^- 
ported  to  be  due  to  the  petitioner,  besides  other  demands  respited 
lintil  further  hearing,  &c.  &c. 

"  By  the  before  mentioned  orders,  warrants,  X)'rdinances  and 
reports,  they  find  that  there  is  due  to  the  petitioner,  besides  what 
is  already  accbunted  for  as  received,  the  sum  of  ^3558.  15.  8.  with 
that  interest  which  is  already  due  by  the  foresaid  orders  ;  and  that 
the  principal  debt  was  made  payable  above  six  years  now  past,  &c. 
Irt  consideration  whereof,  the  said  Committee  thinks  fit,  that  pay- 
melit  and  satisfaction,  if  it  so  please  this  honourable  House,  may 
be  made;  First,  that  for  the  ^1681.  15.  8.  charged  upon  the  Ex- 
cise [as  mentioned  in  another  part  of  the  report}  interest  of  8  per 
cent,  shall  be  paid  every  six  months,  to  the  said  petitioner  or  his 
assigfls,  out  of  the  said  Excise,  from  the  22  Sept.  last,  until  the 
said  £1681.  15.  8.  be  fully  paid,  for  the  remainder  of  the  sum  of 
^3958.  15.  8.  as  also  towards  recompence  of  the  petitioner's  long 
forbearance  therein,  and  of  his  great  expense  in  almost  seven  years 
chargeable  attendance."  Journals,  Vol.  VI.  p.  519.  An  order 
was  at  the  same  time  made  "for  settling  £150  per  ann.  upon  him 
and  his  heirs,  from  the  lands  of  John  Denham,  Esq.  (the  poet)  in 
full  satisfaction  for  all  other  demands."  See  Wither's  Petition  to 
Parliament,  on  the  result  of  this  grant,  in  British  Bibliographer, 
Vol.  I.  p.  323.  Edward  Browne,  in  his  "  patheticall  Apologie. 
for  Booke-making,"  dated  London,  22  Decemb.  1642,  thus  con- 
fiitns  the  assertion  of  Wither  respecting  the  pillage  made  upon  his 
newly  acquired  property  :  Captaine  Geo.  Wither  hath  my  certifi- 
cate, but  I  feare  he  is  so  perplexed,  because  his  house,  neere  Guil- 
ford in  Surrey,  was  plundered  by  the  King's  CaTaliers,  that  he 
can  finde  tio  spare  time  to  signe  it." 

*  It  appears  from  himself  that  he  was  sometimes  scornfully 
termed  "  The  Valiant  Poet,"  and  the  "  Chronomastix."  See 
Brit.  Remembr.  fol.  205.  The  polemics  of  puritanism,  as  Wartols 
has  observed  of  Milton,  not  uwfrequently  degraded  the  versatile 
pi-oductions  of  Wither. 

sial 


3^ 

sial  invective:  but  it  may  be  doubted  whether  his  writings 
ever  obtained  sufficient  popularity  to  do  touch  mischief, 
even  admitting  them  to  be  pregnant  with  such  an  inien- 
tion.  Butler,  from  having  enlisted  as  poetical  champion 
to  the  loyalists,  slurred  Wither's  rhymings  as  a  thing 
of  course;*  the  monarchical  intolerance  of  Anthony 
Wood,  -y  stamped  a  deeper  brand  upon  thgt  name,  which 
had  been  ignorantly  or  insolently  traduced  by  Win- 
stanley  the  barber:}:  and  was  slighted  in  the  dry  bio- 
graphical register  of  Jacob  the  attorney  ■•  the  first  of 
whom  contented  himself  with  enumerating  ten,  and 
the  other  seven  of  Wither's  poetical  performances.  Pope, 
by  reading  Winstanley  perhaps  instead  of  Wither,  or 
because  it  suited  his  immediate  purpose  to  adopt  a 
popular  prejudice,  or  it  might  be  to  gratify  the  hu- 
mour of  Swift,  §   who  spoEe  of  Wither  as  a  private 

*  In  Part  I.  Canto  z,  apd  Part  II.  Csnto  3,  of  Hudibras. 

f  Besides  what  is  said  under  the  article  of  Wither,  Wood  re- 
peats a  strange  tale  of  the  "  old  puritan  satyrist"  being  invested 
by  Henry  Martin  with  the  royal  habiliments  of  Edward  the  Con- 
fessor, obtained  from  the  college  of  Westminster,  and  that  being 
arrayed  in  these  regalia,  he  exposed  them  to  contenapt  and 
langhter  by  a  thousand  apish  and  ridiculous  actions.  Athen. 
Oxon.  II.  660. 

J  This  Grub-street  penman  takes  occasion  to  say  that  Wither 
was  "a  prodigious  pourer  forth  of  rhime,"  and  adds,  in  the 
phraseology  of  a  shaving-shop,  "  which  he  spued  from  his  raaw, 
as  Tom  Coriat  formerly  used  to  spue  Greek.."  Well  might  the 
style  of  Winstanley  be  charged  by  Dr.  Drake  with  "  insuit'erable 
vulgarity."  See  his  Essays,  Vol.  IV.  Phillips,  who  pieceded 
Winstanley,  thought  it  sufficiently  degrading  to  observe,  that 
"  whoever  shall  go  about  to  imitate  the  lofty  style  of  Wither, 
may  boldly  venture  to  ride  post  and  versifie."  Theatr.  Poetarum, 
P-  57- 

§  Unless  Dryden,  v.'ho  was  the  poetic  oracle  of  Pope,  had  intro- 
duced him  thus. to  prior  notice. — "  He  who  can  write  well  in 
rhyme,  may  write  better  in  blank  verse.  Rhynie  is  certainly  a 
constraint  even  to  the  best  poets,  and  those  who  make  it  with 
most  ease  :  though  perhaps  I  have  as  little  reason  to  complain  of 
that  hardship  as  .niiy  man,  «-xcepting,  Quarles  and  Withers." 
(Dedication  of  the /£neis.)  The  same  author,  in  his  Essay  of  Dra- 
matic poesy,  designs  to  sneer  at  Dr.  Robert  Wild,  by  terming  him 
"  the  very  Vi'ithrrs  of  the  city." 

c  c  <j  trooperi 


59° 

trooper,*  that  pretended  to  a  chief  command  In  the  "Battle 
ofBookes;"  even  Pope  was  content  to  tread  in  the  beaten 
track  of  common-place  sarcasm,  first,  ironically  calling 
him  worthy,  afterwards  changinghis  epithet  to  "  wretched 
Withers:"  vviih  whom,  in  his  second  edition  *f-  of  the 
Dunciad,  Qiiarles  was  coupled,  and  a  note  superadded, 
to  degrade  the  merits  of  both,  by  asserting  that  "  Quarles 
was  as  dull  a  writer,  but  an  honester  man  than  Wither.''^ 
Having  very  lately  met  with  an  article  in  the  Annual  Re- 
view, for  1807,  (nK|ch  too  plausive  for  me  to  point  out) 
-which  contains  a  tno'si  ingenious  parallel  between  Quarles 
-and  Wither,  it  may  not  inapposiiely  be  cited  here,  as  the 
liberal  arbitrement  of  ''  a  living  poet  and  a  man  of  rare 
genius."  His  name  is  not  specified.  "  Quarles  is  a 
wittier  writer,  but  Wither  la>s  more  hold  of  the  heart. 
Quarles  thinks  of  his  audience  when  he  lectures.  Wither 
soliloquizes  in  company  from  a  full  heart.  What  wretched 
stuff  are  the  "  Divine  Fancies"  of  Quarles  !  Religion 
appears  to  him  no  longer  valuable  than  while  it  furnishes 
matter  for  quibbles  and  riddles.    Wither  is  like  an  old 

•  By  joining  Dryden  with  him  however,  as  Mr.  Dalrymple  has 
observed,  (he  opprobrium  falls  on'tbe  critic  and  not  on  the  poet. 
See  Brit.  Bib.  1. 14. 

+  Printed  in  1719.  In  the  first  edition  the  hemistich  stood 
thus: — "worthy  W — y,  W — s,  and  Bl — ;"  in  the  latter  it  w.is 
altered  to  "worthy  Settle,  Banks,  and  Broome."  From  these 
successive  thanges,  it  would  seem  that  Pope  wished  to  lash  as 
many  writers  as  he  could,  with  as  little  trouble,  and  to  make  one 
thong  serve  for  half  a  dozen  backs  at  least. 

\  The  conduct  of  Wither,  it  must  be  confessed,  was  oftentimes 
fluctuating  and  contradictory,  as  seasons  and  occasions  varied  : 
he  had  a  mind  ihat  bade  defiance  to  the  evils  of  poverty  and  re- 
straint, and  a  body  that  could  not  but  shrink  beneath  the  two- fold 
pressure.  Hence  he  appeared  in  one  page  a  servile  supplicant, 
and  inanother  of  the  same  piece,  perhaps,  a  dictatorial  lampooner^ 
till,  from  assuming  the  voice  of  a  poetical  raven,  he  was  encaged 
for  a  Newgate. bird,  and  so  closely,  as  he  says  of  himself  while  w 
frison,  1661, 

"  My  feathers  have  so  pluckt  already  been. 
That  no  more  I  can  lose  now,  but  my  skin  ; 
And  when  that's  torn  away,  I  may  presume 
My  flesh  and  bones  in  short  time  will  crnsume." 

Crums  ajid  Scrrfs,  p.  11. 

friend 


391 

friend,  whose  warm-heartedness  and  estimable  qualities 
make  us  wish  he  possessed  more  genius  [qu.  taste  ?]  ; 
but  at  the  same  time  make  us  vyiiiujg  to  dispense  vvith 
that  want.  I  always  love  Wither,  and  sometimes  admire 
Quarles.  Still  that  portrait-poem  prefixed  to  Wither's 
Emblems  is  a  fine  one;  and  the  extract  from  the  Shep- 
herd's Hunting,  in  Ellis's  Specimens,  places  him  in  a 
starry  height,  far  above  Quarles."  It  seems  to  have  been 
inferred  by  Granger,*  from  some  partial  inspection  of 
his  works,  that  Wither  readily  sacrificed  sense  to  sound, 
and  that  to  string  together  a  set  of  unmeaning  verses  was' 
all  he  laboured  after.  But  this  was  not  the  fact,  as  I 
have  testified  elsewhere,  f  His  rhymes  are  many  of  them 
neither  rhymes  to  the  eye  nor  car,  but  his  sentences  are 
commonly  fraught  with  strong  sense  and  shrewd  observa- 
tion. The  fertility  of  his  mind  led  to  a  turgidity  of  dic- 
tion, and  the  impetuosity  of  his  feelings  hurried  him  into 
what  he  foretold  the  cynics  would  call  "  ribble-rabble- 
ment."J  Puttenham,  indeed,  had  he  lived  at  a  later 
period,  might  have  termed  it  "mingle-mangle:"^  yet 
with  all  his  verbosity  and  defect  of  style,  ||  there  are  few 
of  Wither's  writings,  if  any,  that  will  not  repay  the  la- 
bour of  perusal.  Such  at  least  is  the  opinion  of  your 
present  correspondent,  though  he  may  have  rendered  his 
own  long  extended  survey  of  them  very  tiresome  to  gene- 
ral readers,  T.  P. 

*   Biogr.  Hist,  of  England,  Vol.  III.  p.  lOO, 

+  See  Lord   Orford's   Royal  and  Noble  Authors,  edit.   1804, 
Vol.  in.  p.  y;  and  UnivcrsalM-igazine  for  February  1807. 

J  Vide  Furor  Poeticns,  p.  74.     In  another  place  he  apologizes 
for  the  versatility  of  his  writings  and  disposition  by  saying 

"  He  was  made  up  of  such  mettle, 

That  he  was  sometimes  40ft  and  sonietimes  i?."iV//e."' 

§  See  his «' Arte  of  English  Poesie,'"  1 589.  B.  iii.  C.xxii.  p  »ii, 
[1  Sometimes  he  approached  to  the  bombast  of  Cowley's  Mis^ 
tiesse,  as  in  tbese  linesrs— 

"   Meanwhile,  by  stifled  musings  tir'd, 
The  Hames  within  were  closely  pent, 
Like  powder  in  gransdos  fir'd., 

Do  tear  my  heart,  through  want  of  vent."  &c. 

lfarr,higpiecetii  London,  1662,  p.  3-5. 

c  c  4  A 


39^ 


%  A  Petite  Pallace  of  Pettie  His  Pleasure — conieyii- 
ing  ,many  pretie  Histories,  ly  him  set  foorth  in 
comely  colours,  and  most  delightfully ,  discoursed. 
Omne  tulit  punctum  qui  miscuit  utile  dulci.  (Colo-  ' 
phon  )  Printed  at  London  by  R.  TV.  h.  I.  Small 
quarto,  pp.  184. 

The  avidity  with  which  Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure 
had  been  read,  seems  to  have  e  cited  the  ambition  of 
George  *  Pettie  to  lay  claim  to  a  portion  of  popularity, 
by  producing  a  work  founded  on  a  similar  basis  :  and 
which  might,  from  similarity  of  title  also,  be  not  un- 
worthy of  its  much-studied  prototype.  The  stores  of  the 
Italian  novelists  having  been  pretty  well  ransacked  by 
Painter,  Fenton,  and  other  translators  of  the  day,  our 
author  had  recourse  principally  to  classic  story,  with 
which  he  probably  was  furnished  by  the  English  Meta- 
itiorphosis  of  Ovid,  shortly  before  translated  by  Arthur 
Golding,  and  by  some  English  version  of  Livy.  I  know 
nothingmore  ofPettie's  history  thanisafforded  by  Wood, 
who,  in  page  240,  Vol.  I.  of  the  Ath.  0'.  says  ''  he 
was  the  younger  son  of  Johii  le  Petite,  or  Pettie  of  Tets- 
worth  and  Stoke-Taimach,  in  Oxfordshire,  Esq.  was 
born  in  that  county,  and  at  about  16  years  of  age,  An. 
1564,  was  a  student  of  Christ  Church,  and  took  his  de- 
gree of  A.  B.  in  1568."  He  shortly  after  left  the  uni- 
^.'ersity,  and  went  abroad;  and  "at  length  became  ex- 
cellent for  his  passionate  penning  of  amorous  stories." 
He  died  in  the  prime  of  life,  1589,  "  being  then  a  cap- 
tain and  a  man  of  note."  Pettie  also  translated  three  of 
the  four  books  ^f  Guazzo's  Civile  Conversation,"  in  4". 
1586.  Oi  the  work  in.  question,  Wood  gives  no  very 
flattering  eulogium,  when  he  says,  "the  petite  Palace  of 
Pleasure  I  have  in  my  study,^and  for  the  respect  I  bear 
to  the  name  of  the  author  (he  having  been  uncle  to  my 
mother  Marja  la  Petite)   1  will  keep  itj  but  'tis  so  far 

*   Warton  calls  V\m  William,  but  I  have  A.  Wood's  authority 
forgiving  him  the  niitie  of  George, 

now 


393 

now  from  being  excellent  or  fine,  that  it  is  more  fit  to 
be  read  by  a  school-boy,  or  rustical  amoratto,  than  by  a 
gent,  of  mode  or  language." 

Warton  particularizes  several  editions  of  this  work, 
and  I  find  in  Herbert's  Ames,  612  and  1030,  notices  of 
two  editions;  one  printed  by  Richard    Watkyns,   and 
another  by  Reginald  Wolfe,  both  however  without  dates. 
I    confess  myself  at  a  loss  therefore  to  distinguish  by 
whom  the  book  before  me  was  printed,  particularly  as 
the  motto,  which  might  have  assisted  my  research,  is 
omitted  by  Herbert  in  both  instances.     The  work  com- 
mences with  an  address   from  the  printer  to  "  all  the 
readers  of  this  booke,"  in  which  he  says,  that  "  having 
sometyme  in  my  custodie  this  booke  in  written  hand, 
which  by  meanes  of  a  speciall  friende  of  myne  was  com- 
mitted vnlo  me,  I   was  by  hym  eftsoones  earnestly  so- 
licited to  publyshe  the  same  in  print." — It  appears  from 
what  the  printer  afterwards  states,  that  he  published  an 
abridgment  of  the  colleciion  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  author,  who  had  "  drawne  these  histories  upon  his 
owne   8c   certayne  of  his  friendes  private  occasions  into 
sundry  discourses,  &  they  were  by   hym  penned  rather 
for  his  owne  private  exercise,   then  to  haue  them  come 
abrode  to  the  view  of  all  men." 

The  collection  consists  of  twelve  stories,  of  which  I 
give  the  arguments. 

J.'  "  Sinor'ix  and  Camma. 

"  Sinorix,  chiefe  Gouernour  of  Scienna,  in  Italie,  glauncing 
his  eyes  vpon  the  glitering  beaiitie  of  Camma,  wife  to  Sin- 
natus,  a  gentleman  of  the  same  ciiie,  falleth  into  extrearae 
loue  with  her,  &  assayeth  siindrie  waies  to  win  her  good  will. 
But  perceiuing  his  practises  to  take  no  wished  effect,  and  sup- 
posing the  husbandes  life  to  hinder  his  loue,  c:msed  him  to  be 
.  murdered  by  a  Ruffyan.  Camma,  to  the  intent  she  might  be 
reuenged  upon  the  chiefe  conspinitour,  in  graunting  hiramar- 
r.iage,  dispatched  her  selfe  in  drinking  to  him,  and  him,  in 
pledging  her  in  a  draught  of  poyson,  which  she  had  prepared 
for  that  purpose. 

2.  "  Tereus  and  Progne. 

"  Tereus,  Kynge  of  Thrace,  enamored  of  Progne,  daughter 
So  Pandion  Prince  of  Athens,  oblaineth  her  in  mariage,  and 

conueyefh 


394 

conueyeth  her  into  his  owne  countrey.  Progne,  desirous  to 
tee  her  syster  Philomela,  mooueth  Tereus  to  go  to  Athens, 
and  to  get  licence  to  bring  her  into  Thrace,  who,  on  the  way 
falling  into  vnlawful  lyking  ot  her,  foiceth  her  to  his  pleasure, 
&  cutteth  out  her  tongue,  that  she  might  tel  no  tales.  Progne, 
hauing  hereof  secrete  intelligence,  in  liew  ol  that  fowle  fact, 
murdred  his  and  her  owne  sonne,  young  Itys,  and  dressed  him 
in  ra;ates  for  his  fathers  mouth.  .Wliich  horrible  deede,  when 
Tereus  would  haue  reuenged  upon  the  mother  and  aunt,  they 
escape  his  handes,  and  are  transformed  into  birdes.   , 

3.  "  Germanicus  and  Jgrippina. 

"  Germanicus,  a  young  gentleman  of  small  liuing,  of  the 
kindred  &  in  the  court  of  Octauian  the  F.mperour,  hecomming 
amorous  of  the  lady  Agrippina,  through  great  suite  gettethher 
to  wife:  aid  through  his  valiancie  winneth  to  be  pioclaymed 
heyre  apparent  to  the  empire.  Whose  state  Tiberius  his  cosin 
enuying,  dispatcheth  him  priuily  with  poyson:  and  Agrip- 
pina, for  gfiefe  thereof  refusing  all  bodily  sustenaunce,  most 
miserably  famlsheth  her  selfe  to  death. 

4.  "  Amphiaraus  and  Eripkile. 

"  Amphiaraus,  a  gentleman,  Argyue,  sueth  for  manage  to 
Eriphile,  widow,  either  liking  01  hers  possessions  better  than 
persons.  Infortunio  burnying  in  affection  towards  the  same 
trull,  seyng  Amphiaraus  lande  preferred  before  his  loyaltie,  is 
at  poynte  to  destroy  him-selfe.  Amphiaraus  hidynge  himselfe 
to  escape  from  the  warres,  is  betrayed  by  Eriphile  for  couetice 
of  rewards:  and  setting  foote  within  the  Theban  soyle,  the 
earth  openeth  and  sualloweth  hirn  up.  Eriphile  eftsoones  a 
widow,  proferelh  her  loue  to  her  oldc  suiter  Infortunio,  by 
whom  beyng  repuisrd,  in  choUer  she  coiisumetb  away  &  dieth. 

5.  "  Icilius  and  f'irginia. 

"  Icilius,  a  young  gentk^man  of  Rome,  falling  in  loue  with 
Virginia,  is  refused  by  her  friendes  for  want  of  sufficient  wealth, 
but  priuiliecontracteihhini^elfevnto  her.and  depyrteth  into  the 
warres.  Appius  Claudius  burning  with  vnchast  lust  of  the 
.'aiiie  mavden,  the  better  to  obtaine  her,  causeth  Claudius  his 
client  to  claim  her  for  hi^i  bondsl.iue,  ac  giueth  wrongful! 
iud'ieiTient  on  hi-  side.  But  Virginius  her  failitr  at  her  earnest 
request  slaieth  herwilh  his  own  hands,  to  prescriie  her  virginity 
from  the  villanie  ot  Appius,  who  for  that  f.ict  is-  cast  into 
prisun,  where  desperately  he  doih  himselfe  to  dt;atb. 

6.  "  Jdmelui 


395 

6.  "  Admetus  and  Alcest. 

"  Admetus  Sonne  to  Atys  King  of  Libia,  falling  into  loue 
with  Alcest,  daughter  to  Lycabas  King  of  Assur,  who  recom- 
pensed him  with  semblable  affection,  are  restrained  each  from 
other  by  their  parentes,  but  beeing  secretly  married,  wander  in 
wildernesse  like  poore  pilgrimes;  Atys  shortly  after  dyeth, 
whereof  Admetus  being  aduertised  returneth  with  his  wife, 
and  is  established  in  the  kingdome.  The  destinies  graunt  him 
a  double  date  of  life,  if  he  cap  find  one  to  die  for  him,  which 
Alcest  her  selfeperfourraeih  :  for  whose  death  Admetus  most 
wofuUy  lamenting,  she  was  eftsoones  by  Proserpina  restored 
to  her  life  &  louer  againe. 

7.  "  Scilla  and  Minos. 

"  Scilla,  daughter  to  Nisus,  King  of  Alcathae,  disdainfully 
reiecting  the  humble  suite  of  Iphis,  a  young  gentleman  of  her 
fathers  court,  becommeth  vnaduisedly  amorous  of  King  Minos 
her  fathers  and  countries  mortal  foe,  lying  in  siege  about  the 
citie.  To  whom^  by  the  counsaile  of  Pandarina,  she  betrayeth 
her  father,  in  stealing  away  his  golden  h.iire,  and  presenting  it 
vnto  Minos  in  token  of  her  loue,  which  hee  reprochfully  re- 
iected,  and  being  imbarked  to  depart  homeward,  she  assayeth 
to  swimme  after  him,  and  is  d  owned  in  the  sea. 

8.  "  Curiatius  and  Horatia. 

"  Curiatius  a  young  geiitleman  of  the  citie  of  Albania,  in 
Italy,  falling  into  extreame  loue  with  Horatia,  a  young  gentle- 
woman of  the  city  of  E.ome,  alter  long  suiie  and  many  delayes 
obtained  her  graunt  to  be  hi-,  wife.  But  in  the  meane  time, 
contention  fallii'g  out  betweene  the  two  cities,  Curiatius  is 
slayne  in  the  nelde  by  Horalius,  brother  to  the  sayde  gentle- 
woman, to  whom  he  «  as  assured  :  whose  death,  Horatia  most 
pitifully  bewayling,  her  brother  greatly  disdayned  thereat,  and 
cruelly  thrusteih  her  to  the  heart  with  his  sworde. 

9.  "  Cephalus  and  Procris. 

"  Cephalus,  a  lustie  young  gillaunt,  and  Procris,  a  beauti- 
full  girle,bothof  the  Duke  of  Venice  court,  become  each  amo- 
rous of  other,  and  notwithstanding  dejaies  procured,  ai  length 
are  matched  in  m:nTiage.  Cephalus,  pretending  a  farre  iour ney 
and  long  absence,  returneth  before  appointed  time  to  trie  his 
wiues  trustinesse.  Procris,  falling  into  the  folly  of  extreme 
ielo.sie  over  her  husband,  prtrsiieth  him  priuilie  into  the  woodes 
a  huntings  to  sec  his  hehauiour:  whom  Cephalus  hearing  to 

rushe 


39^ 

rtishe  in  a  bnshe,  wherein  she  was  shrowded,  and  thinking  it 
had  beene  some  game,  slayeth  her  unwares,  and  perceyuing  the 
deede^  consumeth  himselfe  to  death  for  sorowe. 

10.  "  ATinos  and  Pasiphce. 

"  Minos,,  King  of  Creete,  regarding  the  beautie  of  Pasiph^, 
a  waiting  gentlewoman  in  his  court,  falleth  into  loue  with  her, 
&  maketh  her  his  Gueene,  whom  Verecundus,  a  young  gentie- 
inan  also  of  the  court,  hauing  solicited  to  lewdnes^e,  for  feare 
of  the  Kings  displeasure  escaprth  away  by  flight.  Minos 
entreth  into  such  rage  of  ielousie  ouer  bis  wife,  that  in  his 
absence  he  setteth  spies  ouer  her,  to  bewray  her  doings. 
Pasiphae,  becoming  vnnaturally  amorous  of  a  bui,  by  meanes 
of  the  carpenter  Dedalus,bringeth  forth  a  monstrous  cbilde, 
in  parte  resembling  the  syre,  and  in  parte  the  mother. 

II,  "  Pigmalions  Friend  and  his  Image. 

"  Pigmalion,  a  gentleman  of  Piemoiint,  continuing  the 
space  of  certayne  yeeres  in  honest  affection,  and  vertnous  loue 
with  Penthea,  wife  to  Luciano,  a  noble  gentleman  of  the  same 
countrey,  is  at  length  by  her  reiecled,  in  respect  of  a  base 
stranger.  Pigmalion,  abandoning  the  company  of  al  women, 
and  gluing  himselfe  to  the  art  of  caruinc,  bnrneth  in  loue  with 
an  image  which  himselfe  had  fishioned:  whom,  at  his  earnest 
suite,  Venus  transformed  into  a  faire  mayde,  ;?nd  he  taketb 
her  to  wife, 

I?.  "  Alexius. 

"  Alexius  geuen  earnestly  to  folowe  the  study  of  his  boobe, 
and  the  knowledge  of  the  liberail  .sciences,  is  diligently  ex- 
horted by  his  father  to  take  a  wife,  whereunto  though  vnwil- 
ling,  he  applieth  himself-  and  is  matched  with  such  a  one,  that 
in  respect  of  her  good  grace,  he  vtter;Mli  great  commendation 
of  women  kinde.  But  slv-itly  afier,  falling  into  loathing  of 
that  which  before  he  most  loiied,  he  repenteth  himselfe  of  his 
bargaine,  and  forsnking,  both  house  and  wife,  and  all  worldly 
pleasures,  consumeth  the  remaynder  of  his  life  in  pilgrimage 
and  IraueJl." 

Little  merit  as  these  histories  possess,  they  afford  oe- 
casionally  some  an-ia5ci-nent,  as  well  from  the  quaintness 
of  thfl  style,  and  the  obsolete  phrasts  interspersed  through- 
out them,  as  from  tiie  ridiculntis  application  of  the  ciis- 
torns  anil  appellations  of  iTic  fc'Jisahetban  sera  to  the  inci- 
tleiU.s  and  pers.on?  of  ii)e  classic  ages.  W. 


397 

^1  The  rates  of  the  cuslome  house  bathe  inwarde  and 
outwarde  the  dyfftreiice  of  measures  and  weyghts  and 
Other  comodities  very  necessaryefor  alt  marc/iantes  to 
knowe  newly  correctyd  andimprynted.  Jn.M.D.XLK 
«]  Imprynted  at  London  by  me  l^ycharde  Kele,  duuel- 
lynge  at  the  longe  skoppe  in  the  Poulirye  vnder  saynt 
Myldreds  churche. 

Ambre  the  maste 

Ambre  the  hundieth  pou^de    ' 

Aunessedes  the  hundieth  pontide 

Almondes  the  C.'pounde 

Almor.des  the  bale 

Allom  the  hu"dvetb  pound 

Argell  the  hu"dreth  pou~d 

Argell  called  Wynstone  the  hiin~dreth  poundo 

Alleos  the  hu~dreth  pou'd 

Arsnike  the  hu~dreth  li. 

Assafcttica  the  hu~dreth  li 

Aqua  vite  the  barell 

Andleltes  the  hu'"dreth 

Andlettes  the  pounde 

Asshes  called  woad  asslies  the  laste 

Asshes  called  Sope  asshes  the  laste 

Asshes  called  pot  asshes  the  barl. 

Alblades  the  thousande 

Alhafte/i  the  thousande 

Appulles  the  busshell 

Appulles  the  barrell 

Armyns  the  tymber 

Abces  the  groce 

Abces  the  thousande 

Astrologia  rotsnda  the  C.  li. 

Adsis  for  copers  the  dossen  vt  strit  in  valore 

Antymony  the  hundrcth  li 

Arge'te  subliue  the  c.  li. 

Alphany  the  pounde 

Almaine  Ryuets  for  foteme~  the  pece 

Aloes  Ctcotrini  the  cl. 

Aloes  CtCottini  the  pou'de 

Buske  clothe  narowebuske  wbyted  and  ail  maner 

cloth  in  Hollande  ploye  -  xii  s. 

Buske  brode  the  C.  elles  -  xxx  s. 

Rrabande  clot^ie  the  hole  pece  -  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Brabande  clothe  the  halfepecc  vis,    viii  d. 

Biesill 


X  s. 

iv  s. 

.xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

xls. 

xifi  s.^ 

iiii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

Kvi  s. 

viii  d. 

xxxiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

xxxiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

X.'i  s. 

KKkiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

iiiid. 

XX  s. 

xx  s. 

vi  s. 

jii  s. 

iiii  d 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

iiii  d. 

xii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

XX  d. 

X  s. 

iiii  s. 

V  s. 

xxxiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

vi  s. 

vi  s. 

t'iil  d. 

xxxiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

iiii  d. 

398 


vil. 


Bresill  cloth  the  pece 

Bretisshe  cloth  the  pececonteinynge  v  score  dies 

Bokeratn  the  paper  vz.  iii  peces  to  one  paper 

Bokeram  the  rowle 

Bokerara  of  Fraunce  the  pece 

Buslian  the  pece 

Bl"iclges  threde  the  dossen  pdunde 

Bo'.layne  sarcenet  the  pece 

Brasell  the  C.  pounde 

Brasell  the  pounde 

Brymstone  the  C.  pouude 

Blackc  sope  ihe  laste 

Bole  Armonyaike  the  hu'dreth  pou  d 

Borras  the  C.  pounde 

Bysse  the  pounde 

Bysse  coirterfete  the  pou"d  ^ 

Bankers  fyne  the  dossen 

Bankers  cours  the  dossen 

Brydges  gloues  y=  groce 

Bowstaues  the  last  conteyning,  xxiiii  bundels  and 

euery  bundell,  xvi  staues  -  vi  1. 

Bowstaues  the  hiindritb 

Bawels  the  tonne  -  iiii  1. 

Bawelsthe  thosande 
Bagges  with  lockes  the  dosse" 
Bagges  with  stelerynges  w'oute  lokes  the  dosen 
Bagges. for  chyldren  the  groce 
Bowltell  raynes  the  pece 
Bowl! ell  the  bale 
Brusshes  fyne  the  groce 

Erusshes  ofcpursheth  or  cape  brusshes  the  groce 
Brusshes  called  rubbfge  brusshes  the  groce 
Beades  of  wode  the  groce 
Bone  bedes  the  groce 
B-des  in  boxes  the  groce 
Ballandes  called  oa~ce  ballance  the  groce 
Ballandes  called  golde  balla  lies  the  groce 
Ballandes  the  sorte  co'teyning  foure  dossen 
Belles  the  groce 

Belles  called  brasse  belles  the  groce 
Belles  called  sacrynge  belles  the  C. 
Brystels  tlie  boxe 
Brystels  the  pounde  roghe 
Brystels  the  pounde  dressed 
Broches  of  latte"  the  smale  gi'oc"" 


XI  s. 

;s    XX  s. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

XX  d. 

XX  d. 

X  Si 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

xls. 

xxxiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

iiii  d. 

iiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

xlviii  s. 

xxiiii  s. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d' 

%\  5. 
X  S. 

iiii  s. 

ii  s. 

vi  s. 

ii  s. 

xl  s. 

xviii  s. 

xii  s. 

iiii  s. 

ii  s. 
iii  s. 

X  s. 
viii  s. 
viii  s. 

iii  s. 

xxxiii  s. 

vi  s. 


viii  d. 


xii  d. 


iiii  d. 


xiid. 
iiii  d. 
iiii  d. 
iiii  d. 
iiii  d. 

vi  d. 

vi  d. 
Broches 


399 

Brociies  of  Latten  the  great  groce          -  vis.     viii  d. 

Bawine  glasses  the  groce                 -  xii  d. 

Rrytayiie  laces  the  groce                 -                 -  v  s, 

Bisilke  the  groce  conteyng.  xii  dossc'.peces       -  x  s. 

Blacke  latten  rolles  the  c.  pou'd              -  xx  s. 

Bodkyns  the  thousande                 -                 -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Brydell  byttes  the  dosse"             -                 -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Baste  hattes  the  M.                 -                 -  xx  s. 

Baste  or  straw  hattes  the  dosse"                  -  iiii  d. 

Baste  ropes  the  bondell                 -                 -  xx  d. 

Baste  rppes  the  pece                     -                     -  iiii  d. 

Baste  rope  the  C.  poude                 -           -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Baste  rope  the  floke  conteynynge  xl  peces        -  xx  s, 
Battry  the  C.  poiinde                                           xxvi  s.     viii  d. 

Bryckstones  the  hundreth                     -  xii  d. 

Bryckstones  the.tbousande  x  s. 

Boxes  the  floke  conteyning  xl                  -  vs. 

Boxes  the  neste                    -  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

BufFe  hydes  the  pece  .               -                 -  vis.    viii  d. 

Bodge  whyte  tawed  the  C.              -              -  x  s. 

Bodge  blacke  tawed  the  dossen              -  vi  s.    viii  d. 

Bodge  of  rornney  the  dossen                    -  x  s. 

Bossys  for  brydels  the  dossen                  -  xii  d. 

Babyes  for  chyldren  the  groce                 -  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Blacke  latnbe  the  C.  skynnes                     -  x  s. 

Beuers  the  vowle                 -                      -  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Bordes  for  bokes  the  M                 -              -  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Box, peces  for  combes  the  butte  or  pipe       iiii  1. 

Bokcles  for  shomakers  the  M                        -  xii  d. 

Bodgye  pols  the  farre                -                  -  x  s.           . 

Byniamye  the  hundreth  C.  pounde              vi  1.  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Bynyamyn  the  pounde                -                 -  xvi  d. 

Bayes  the  C.  pounde                   -                 -  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Bottom  of  threde  the^C.  pou"de  xx  s. 

Bottom  threde  the  pounde    ■            -             -  ij  d. 

Bottcls  of  wyckers  the  dossen  xvi  d. 

Beres  quycke  the  pece                -             -  vi  s.    viii  d. 

Bokes  vnbou"de  the  basket  or  ma~de  iiii  1. 

Bokes  vnbou~de  the  halfe  ma~de                    -  xl  s. 

Bruses  the  dossen                  -                    -  iiii  s. 

Basselllether  the  dossen                 -                 -  ii  s. 

Cameryke  the  pece                 -                 -  xxvi  s.     viii  d. 

Ca'uas  called  Nevveastell  the  hu"dreth  elles  xx  s. 

Canuas  Normandy  browne  the  hundreth  elles  xxx  s. 

Canuas  Normandy  whyte  the  hundreth  elles  xl  s. 

Canuas 


400 

Cannas  course  for  packyiige  the  hu'dreth  dies      xx  s. 
Canuas  called  barras  the  hundreth  elles  xxvi  s.'  viii  d. 

Canuas  called  sprewce  c^ass,  the  hu~dreth  elles      xx  s. 


Canuas  the  bolte             -        -     - 

ni  s. 

iiii  d. 

Cottoi}  olde  the  ell 

- 

iiii  d. 

Cotton  newe  the  yarde 

. 

iiii  d. 

Collayne  threde  the  bale 

TiJ. 

Collaine  sylke  the  clonte  pou~d  fbure 

pounde         Hii  s. 

iiii  d. 

Cawle  sylke  the  paper 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

Cruell  or  worsted  yarne  the  dosen  pounde               ix  s. 

Chamlettes  the  pece 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

Cloues  the  pounde 

ii  s. 

vi  d. 

Clones  the  hu"dreth  pou'de 

xii  J.     x  s. 

Corke  made  the  laste 

xl  s. 

Corke  made  the  barell 

iii  s. 

iiii  A, 

Corke  made  the  dossen 

ii  s. 

Corke  takkes  the  thousande 

x  s. 

Conimyn  the  balle 

XX  s. 

Co-myn  the  hu~dreth  pou'd 

xiirs. 

iiiid. 

Calaraan  the  C.  pou"de 

xl  s. 

viii  d. 

Copperos  the  pipe 

xl  s. 

Copperos  the  C.  pound 

iii  s. 

iiiid. 

Castellsope  the  C.  pounde 

X  s. 

Castiafistola  the  C.  pounde 

iiil. 

Courrans  the  C.  pounde 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d, 

Cotton  vnsponne  the  hundreth  pou"d 

xxvi  s. 

viii  d. 

Cotton  sponne  the  hundreth  pounde 

xxxiit  s. 

iiii  d. 

Camfyre  the  pounde 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

Csinfettes  the  pounde 

- 

vi  d. 

Combes  the  groce 

iiii  s. 

Combfs  the  cace 

XX  s. 

Combes  smale  the  groce 

ii  s. 

Combes  ihe  box 

iiii  s. 

Combe  cases  the  grqge 

- 

xii  d. 

Combe  cases  double  the  groce 

ii  s. 

Corrall  the  mast              -                ^ 

XX  s. 

Garuyng  knyues  the  dossen 

XX  s. 

Counters  of  Laten  the  pound 

- 

iiii  d. 

Counters  the  hundreth  pou  de 

*■    xxxiiii  s. 

iiii  d 

Copper  golde  the  maste 

viii  s. 

Coper  golde  vpon  quylles  the  poird 

iiii  s. 

Copper  golde  the  groce  conteininge  twelue  roUes     v  s. 
Coijayne  hempe  the  sacke         -  -  xxx  s. 

Collayne  hempe  the  hundreth  -  x  s. 

Collayne  hempe  thp  dossen  w  -  xii  d. 

Candilwike 


4»t 


Cahdilwike  the  packe  -  iiii  1. 

tJandilwike  the  C.  pounde 
Carpet  tes  called  gentisshe  the  pece 
Crewell  ribbonde  the  dossen  peces 
Crewell  girdels  the  groce 
Compaces  £he  doSsen 
Gandilstikkes  the  dossen_ 
CandilsnufFers  the  dossen 
Cosshen  clothes  the, dossen 
Cosshen  clothes  of  hpUa'de  makinge  the  dossen 
Copper  round  or  square  the  hu'dreth 
Cordwayne  skynnes  called  spa~ysShe  the  dossen 
Counters  the  neste 
Counters  the  pefie 

Chestes  the  neste  -  - 

Coffers  the  neste 

Clapholte  the  greate  hundreth  co-teinyiig  xxlii 
smaiehtlndreth  -  '-  iiii  1. 

Clapholte  the  stnale  C.     '  - 

Chestmen 'the  groce 
Cabags  the  hundreth 

CreuBSs  of  stone  wythout  couers  the  hundnsth 
Creuses  couered  the  C.  - 

Cannes  df  w.ode  the'flocke  -  - 

Callabre  vnrawed  thfe  Xynber  • 

Callabre  tawed  the  Tymbe'r 
Callabre  the  pane  "seasoned 
Callabre  stsfg 
Coddes  beds  the  faiSt 
Coddes  beds  the  barrel! 

Codfysshe  the  laste  -  iii  1. 

Colefysshe  ths  hundreth 
Crosbowe  lathes  the  pootide 
Grosbowe  threde  the  poun4 
Catties  pottes  the  man  tell 
Cattes  pottes  the  C.  -  -        '"' 

Callico  clothe  the  pece  * 

■CoUmacler  sedes  y  c.  pou"d 
Carawaye  sedes  the  C.  pounds 
Colloquyntida  the  pound. 
Castrum  ihe^ounde 
Crepins  the  dossen  with  sylke 
Crepyiis  the  dossen  with^goW 
Cappes  with  syngle  tarfs  the  dossen 
Cappes  deuble  tarfed  &  necked  and  ail  dther  of 
Frenche  makfOQ  (be  dossen. 

TOL.  II.  to  . 


xs. 

ii  s. 

iiii  s. 

iiii  s. 

xiid. 

Vi  s. 

viii  a. 

lis. 

ii  s, 

vi  s. 

viii  ia. 

xvi  s. 

viii  d. 

XX  s. 

XX  s. 

vi  a. 

viii  d. 

xs. 

vi  s. 

viii<3. 

ii 

iii  s. 

iiii  t. 

ii  s. 

iii  s. 

iiiijfl. 

iii  s. 

iiii  a. 

vi  S. 

viii  d. 

TS.S. 

Ui  s. 

iiii  4. 

v  s. 

kiii:5. 

iui  i 

X  s. 

XX  s. 

xx4. 

ixs. 

iiii'd. 

iid. 

iii  s. 

iiiid. 

'  -Xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

XX  s. 

vi  s. 

viii.  :d. 

X  s. 

viii  d. 

iiii  d. 

iiii  s. 

vi  s. 

viii  d- 

xiii  s. 

iiii.d. 

XX  s. 


Carufge 


ill  s. 

iiii  (I. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

xl  s. 

. 

iiid. 

xxxiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

ii  s. 

vi  s. 

iii  d. 

xii  d. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d- 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

iii  s. 

xvi  s. 

viii  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

V  s. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

ii  s. 

vi  d. 

4P-3 

Carui''ge  knyues  the  cace 

Cappe  golde  the  pounde 

Coiance  the  tonne 

Corten  rynges  the  pourde 

Corten  rynges  the  bundreth  pounde 

Clarycordes  tlie  payre 

Cappe  caces  ot  letiier  the  dosseii 

Cappes  for  swerdes  the  groce 

Cotes  of  mayle  the  pece 

Cuttell  bones  the  M. 

Co~bes  for  horstaainci  the  groc 

Danslte  letber  tande  the  dossen 

Dornix  with  silke  y'  pece 

Dornix  without  syllte  of  caddas  the  pece 

Dornix  of  woll  the  pece 

Dorinx  thriden  the  peoe 

Doughl^s  Bretysshe  clothe  ereste  clothe  or  lokerara 

conteynyng  v.  score'-elles  -  -  sx  s. 

Dyoper  table  cloth  the  pece  -  xx  s. 

Datiiaske  w'arke  the  pece  -  -  xl  s. 

Dioper  towell  the  pece  -  -  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Damask  wark  the  pece  -  -         xxu  s.     viiid. 

Dioper  tiapkyns  cours  the  dojsen  _   iiii  or  v  s. 

Dioper  napkyns  datnaske  warke  the  dosen  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Daniaske  the  yarde  ■•  .  -  iiii  s. 

Damaske  ci-ymsyn  or  purpele  the  yard         -  vi  s,     viii  d. 

Date';  the  hifdieth  pou'de  -  -         xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Double  Iron  plates  called  doubles  the  skoke       .  xx  s. 
Doubles  the  bondel  iii  a,  iiiid.  and  vi  bondels 

to  the  skoke 
Dogcheynes  the  groce  -  -         viii  s, 

Dogswaynes  the  pece  -  ■      -  ii  s. 

Dogstones  the  last  conteynynge  xii.  payre  iiii  I. 
Dyols  the  dossen  -  .  -  vi  d. 

Dyall  hordes  the  pece  -  -  xx  d. 

Deskes  the  pece  -  -  -  xii  d. 

Dogion  logges  the  hundreth  paces  -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Diagrediutn  the  pounde  -  -  xx  d. 

Esteryche  fethers  the  tuste  or  bonde  -         -  xx  d. 

Ereos  the  hu  drelh  poifde         -  -  xiii  s.     iiiid, 

Elis  called  stubbe  elis  the  barell  -  xxxiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Elis  called  stubbe  elis  the  laste       -      xx  I. 
Elis  called  shaft  kyue  or  dele  elis,  the  bare]  of 

eyther  -  -  -  xx  s. 

Elis  called  shafte  kyue  or  dele  elis,  the  laste  of 

eythers  .  -  xii  1. 

Elis 


403 

tlh  called  pymper  elis  the  barrel  -         xiii  s.    'dii  cl, 

Elis  fcalled  pymp  elis  y"  laste  -  viii  1. 

Elys  of  dll  Sortes  the  barrel  -  '         xx  s. 

Elis  the  cagge  -  -  -         ii  s. 

terthen  pottes  the  syngle  C.  cast  -  iii  s.     iiii  d, 

Ertlien  pottes  the  cast.  vz.  iii  ton  -  xs. 

Eciery  stones  the  C.  -  -  -  xvi  d. 

Ere  pikers  or  tothe  pikers  of  bone  the  grdce  xii  d. 

Egrits  the  dossen  -  --  -         iii'i  s. 

Pnkyll  the  dossen. pounds  •  -  -  iiii  s. 

Enkyll  the  hundreth  pounde  vnwrought  xxxiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Enkyll  the  pou'de  vnwiought  -  iiii  d. 

Flemisshe  cloth  the  hole  pec6  -              xiii  j.     iiiid. 

Fustyan  the  balle                             -  x  1. 

Fustiau  sinapels  the  pece                 -  -             x  s. 

Fustian  the  dz  pece                  -  -                vs. 

Fj'gges  the  sorte  conteyning  iii  paces  -          iiii  s. 

Fygges  the  pece                 _                  .  .              xvi  d 

Fustiketbehundreth  pounde             -  -vs. 

Frankensence  the  C.  pounde           -  »         xx  s. 

Frenche  paper  the  balle  conteitiingfc  x  tealmes    xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Freache  paper  the  realme               -  -                    xvi  d. 

Fethers  for  berides  the  C.  pou'de  .  -               x  s. 

Fryinge  pannes  the  C.  pounde  -                  x  s. 

Fritiche  caps  syiigle  tarfed  tbe  dosse"  -          xiii  s      iiii  c!. 
Frenche  cappes  and  all  other  double  tarfed  the 

dossen                 -              ■  -  -              xx  s. 

Frenche  hattes  the  dossen                 •  -           x  s. 

Flaite  the  laste               -                 -  vi  1. 

Flax  the  packe              -                 -  iiii  1. 

Flaxe  the  balle                 -                 -  -                 xii  d. 

Fiaxe  the  hundreth  poiT~de  wrought  -          x  s. 

Flaxe  the  hundreth  pou'de  vnwrought  -          vis.     viii  d. 

Flower  the  barell                  -  -                 iii  s.     iiii  d 
Flaunders  bryckes  for  scoryng  the  thoiisande       xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Foxe  skynnes  the  pane  of  rtiant(^l  -              vi  s.     viii  d. 

Foxe  skynnes  the  pece                  -  -                        iiiid. 

Foxe  whight  the  pece                 -  -                     xii  d. 

Fitcheues  the  pane  or  mantell  -                 vs. 

Fytcheues  the  tymber                  -  -                     xx  d 

Foyne  wombes  the  pane                 ->  -         xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Foyne  stagge  the  piine                   -  -          x  s. 
Fysshe  of  the  new  lande  of  the  greatlste  sorte 

sorte  the  hnnderith             -  -            xx  s. 

Fysche  ol  the  smalliste  sort  the  hundreth  t     iiii  s. 

Fysshe  ot  the  myddell  sorte  the  C.  -        x  s. 

Fysshe  the  bairell                 -  •               vi.^.    viii  d. 

D  D  2  Frenche 


404 

Frenche  carpettes  the  ell       ,  -                -                    x  ^c 

Frenche  carpettes  the  yarde  -                         viii  d. 

Fawcon  hawke  the  hawkc  -                  xl  s. 

Feltesfor  sadiers  the  dossen  ~                  "  s. 

Fawne  skynnes  the  pece  -                 -                   Hii  3 . 

Galbanum  the  C.  pounde 

Gencium  the  hu"derith  ppu'de 

Gytvger  the  hu'derith  ipoa"de  -         iiii  1. 

Gyngerthe  pounde 

Grene  g'ynger  the  pounde 

Graynes  the  hondrith  pounde 

Gallyngale  the  hundrith  pou"de         -  v '1. 

Great  ray?o"s  the  hu"drith  pou"de 

Great  raysons  the  pece 

Graine  of -Portyngal  called  rote  the  peunde 

Grayne  of  seuell  the  pounde 

Grayne  pouder  the  pounde 

ijaules  the  hufidreth  pounde 

Gome  the  bale 

Gome  armonyake  fhe  C.  pou"de  v  1. 

Gome  arabeke  the  hundreth  pounde 

Gonne  pouder  the  C.  pounde 

Geane  paper  the  bale  contey  x  reameis 

Geane  paper  the  reame 
Glewe  the  C.  pounde 

Generall  the  C.  poupde 

Golde  papers  the  groce 

Glasses  c^led  lokyng  glasses  the  groce        - 

Glasses  for  spectacles  the  groc. 

Golde  of  bruges  the  maste 

Gyrthe  webbe  the  grcce 

Golde  skinnes  the  kyppe  » 

Golde  ballandes  the  groce 

Glasse  of  norma~dy  y*  cace 

Glasse  of  borg'oe  whyte  the  cace 

Glasse  of  borgoyn  eollored  the  ehest 

Glasse  of  borgone  the  way  conteininge  x 
benches 

Glasse  the  bonche 

Garlike  the  C.  benches 

Gallipottesthe  hudreth 

Goshaukes  the  pece 

The  tassell  .  . 

Graye  tawed  the  tymbcr 

Graye  vntawed  the  trber 

Glasses  to  drynke  on  the  groce 

Gote  skynnes  tlie  dossen 


xls. 

XX  s. 

1,    xs. 

xi  a. 

iiii  d. 

Is. 

ii  s. 

XX  a. 

. 

xvi'd. 

- 

xii  3. 

ii  s. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  a. 

Xxvi  s. 

viii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

XX  s. 

xxs. 

ii«. 

iii  s. 

iiiid, 

xs. 

ii  s. 

iiii  s. 

iii  s. 

iiij  ii. 

viii  s. 

iii  s. 

....  J 
mi  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

viii  g. 

xii  s. 

iiii  d. 

XX  s. 

XX vi  s. 
1 

viii  d. 

t 
xKvi  s. 

viii  d. 

vd. 

ob.  far. 

vis. 

viii  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

xtii  s. 

iiiid. 

vis. 

viiid. 

vis. 

viii  d. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

iiii  s. 

vi."!. 

viii  d. 

Gete 

405 

G«te  the  barrell  -  -  xl  s. 

Glasses  of  the  frenche  makyng  the  dossen  -  vi  d. 

JioUonde  clothe  right  and  all   other  sortes  of 

clothes  in  hollgnde  ploye  -  sji  s, 

Hasborough  clothe  the  C.  elles  -  xI  s. 

Piyndf  rlandes  the  C.  elles  -  xxx  s. 

Hardferdes  the  rowle  -         -         x  1. 

Hedlak  the  hundereth  ells  conteynynge  xii  score 

ells  -  -  XX  s. 

Hannouers  the  roule  conteyniug  vi  C.  elles  xii 

score  elles  to  the  C  -         -         x  1. 

HtTiiouers  the  C".  elles 
Harpe  strynges  the  boxe 
Hangyng  lorkes  the  great  sorte  the  groce 
Harneys  nayles  the  some 
Hokes  de  groce 

Hake  endes  the  groce  '  - 

Horsshovves  the  dossen 
Horsbellps  the  groce 
Hatwoll  the  C.  pounde 
Hampers  the  neste  ? 

Ham'pers  the  dossen 
Hattes  the  dossen 

Hoppes  the  sacke  -  •• 

Hoppes  the  pooke 
Hoppes  the  pockate 
Hoppes  the  C.  pounde 
Heryng  full  the  laste 
fieryng  shottcn  the  last 
Herynge  redde  the  last  contey.  xx.  M. 

or  XX  cades 
Herynge  redde  the  M. 
Hedes  for  barrels  the  pece 
Homes  for  lantornes  the  M. 
Honnye  the  barell  -  r 

Horsecombes  the  dossep 
Haukes  heddes  the  groce  .  -^ 

Husse  skynnes  for  fletchers  the  dosse 
Harpe  strynges  the  groce 
Hempe  the  C.  pounde 
Hempe  the  dossen  pounde 
Hempe  the  sack  , 
tternesewes  the  dossen 
Honny  the  tonne 

luerye  the  pounde 
inperlyuges  redie  the  dossen 

n  D  3 


XXXUl  s. 

iiu  d. 

X  s. 

e 

XX  s. 

vis. 

viii  d. 

h 

ii  s. 

. 

xii  d. 

m 

xi'id: 

- 

ii)  s. 

ii!)  i. 

. 

xlii  s. 

iiii  d. 

1^^^'- 

ii  s. 
X  s. 

*ls. 

XXX  s. 

XX  s. 

r 

vi  s. 

viii  d- 

iiiil. 

. 

Xlg. 

beryr 

ig 

iiii  ] 

L 

. 

iiii  s. 

- 

iid. 

xs. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

• 

xii  d. 

iiis. 

iiii  8. 

. 

iiii  s. 

. 

xii  d' 

- 

3ts. 

- 

xvid. 

XXX  s. 

r 

vis. 

viii  d. 

iii 

1, 

. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

• 

xs. 

Imperlynges 

4°^ 

Imperlynges  the  dossen   ,                     -  vi  S.    viii  d- 

Iron  of  spayae  the  tonne                      »•  xl  s. 

Iron  of  spayne  the  endp                    -  »              iiii  <i. 
Iron  callsd  L,ukes  Iron  the  tonne  copteynynge 

XX  C.  pounde              -                -          iii  li.     vi  s.    viii  d. 

Iron  called  Lukes  yron  the  C.  li.              -  "i  s.     iiii  d. 

Iron  wyer  the  hogges  hede                     -  Is. 

Iron  wyer  the  C.  pounde                   -  xx  s. 

Iron  called  faggot  yron  the  bonde              -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Iron  called  faggot  yron  the  hifdreth  pounde  iii  s.      iiii  d, 

Iron  bondes  for  kettels  the  ha'dreth  pounde  x  s, 

Incle  thehu"d'-e5h  pou'de  vnwrought         -  xxxiiii  s.     iiii  d, 

Incle  the  pou~d  vnwrought                 -  -               iiii  d. 

Isornglas  tile  C  li.              -                 -  xxxiiii  s.      iii  d, 

Isomglasse  the  pounde                  -  -                 iiii  d, 

lauelyns  the  dossen  wyth  heades                 -  iiii  s.     viii  d. 

lauelyns  wiil-out  headt-s  the  dossen              -  iiii  s. 

lennettes  blacke  the  pece                      •  vi  s.     iiii  d. 

lenngttes  gray  the  pece                   -  t                  xx  d. 
larfaucoh  hauke  the  hauke 

lucke  the  hundreth  pounde                     -  x  s. 

lues  trounks  the  grose                 »                •  iii  s.      iiii  d. 

Kaskattes  the  great  dossen                     -  xx  s. 

Kaskettes  the  dossen  myddell                  -  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Raskets  small  the  dossen                 -               -  vi  s.     iiii  d.. 

Knyues  called  caruynge  knyues  the  dossen  xx  s. 

Knjues  called  caruynge  knyues  the  cace  -       iii  s.      iiii  d. 

Knyues  of  Almayne  the  groce                  -  xx  s. 

Knyues  cours  the  groce                 -             -  xiii  s.      iiii  d. 

Knyues  of  Fraunce  couri  the  groce             -  vi  s.     viii  d, 

Knyues  of  collayne  the  groce                 -  xxx  s. 

Knyues  of  roue  the  standerde                -  vs. 

Kettels  the  full                   -                   -  iii  s. 

Kettels  the  hundreth  pounde                 -  xxvi  s.     viii  d. 

Kannes  the  hundrith                      -  -                 xx  d. 

Knyues  called  rasures  y'' dele                 -  -             viii  d. 

Knyues  cal.  rasures  the  groce                  -  vs. 

Knyues  called  ?werd  blades  the  do5Se~           -  vi  s.    viii  d. 

Lawne  fyntr  &  cours  the  pece                 -  xx  s. 

Long  peper  the  C.  pounde                -          viii  1.    x  s. 

Longe  peper  the  pounde                -  -               xvili  d. 

Licores  the  bale                  -                     -  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Litmous  the  barrell             '     -                   -  vs. 

Litmous  the  C.  pounde              -                -  vs. 

Lormery  the  C.  pounde              -     ,          -  vis.    viii  d. 

Leues  of  goldethehu'derith                  -  ii  s. 

Leutes 


407 


Leufes  with  eaces  the  dosse"  •  xlviii  s. 

Lether  for  cosshens  the  dossen  -  ii  s. 

L-rher  laces  the  groce  -  -vs. 

Laften  shauen  the  barrel         -         -         vi  1. 
Latten  basons  the  hundreth  pounde  xxxiii  s. 

Latten  wyer  the  C.  pounde  - ,  xx  s. 

Latte"  candylsteckes  of  the  smal  sorte  the  dossen  ii  s. 
Latte''  candelstickes  of  the  great  sort  the  dossen  vi  s. 
Lether  bagges  withoui  lockes  the  dossen  -  ii  s. 
Lether  bagges  with  lockes  the  dosse"  -  iiii  s. 

Lether  gvrdels  the  groce  -  iiii  s. 

LiBther  gyrdels  of  the  newe  makinge  the  Aqssen      ii  s. 
Longe  skayne  whyt£  the  hundreth  pounde        xxxiii  s. 
Leute  stringes  C3lled  myuikins  the  groce 
Lyons  tiirede  the  hutte 

Lettuis  tawed  y"  tymber  -  -         iii  s. 

Lettnis  vntawed  tie  ti~ber  -  ii  s. 

Lemons  the  thonjande  -  -  vi  s, 

Lynges  the  C.  conieinlurg  vi  score  -  xJ  s, 

Lampraypa  the  peee 

Lockes  smalle'  the  dossen  -  ii  s. 

Lambe  called  Irisshe  lambe  the  ma'tell  -         vis. 

Liginum  vite  the  C.  Ij.  -  -vis. 

Lapda^ium  the  hu'dreih  pou"de  -  xl  s. 


Lapts  calaminaris  als  in  gretes  the  hundreth  pounde  iii  s. 

Libbertes  skynnes  the  pece  -                   x  s, 

Libbertes  the  pane  of  wombes  t               Iiii  s. 

Lusshrines  the  pece                 -  -             xx  s. 
Leures  fqr  haukes  the  pece 

Lettuis  yarne  y"  C'  Ii                 -  -             ^xvi  s., 

Mastike  the  C.  pounde  -                   v  Ii. 

Mynsters  the  roule                 -   ^  -              xli. 

Maces  the  hu'dreth  pou'de  -             xii  Ii    xs. 

Maces  the  pqunde                 -  -               ii  s. 

Mull  madder  the  bale                -  -          xx  s. 

Mader  the  bale                   -  -                   Is. 

Mader  the  C.  Ii                    -  -             yi  s. 
Markynge  stone  the  pounde 

Marbelers  plate  thp  C.  pou"de  -               xx  s. 

Muske  the  boxe                -  •              r 

Mustarde  sede  the  pipe                 -  -           x  8. 

Marterons  tawed  the  tyrober  -          iiii  Ii, 

Mynk'es  tawed  the  tymber  -                    xl  s. 

Mynkes.vntawed  the  tymber  -               xx  s. 

Mynyuer  the  mantell                -  -             vs. 
Myllin  soole  the  pqunde 


iiii  d. 
viii  ir 


iiii  d, 
xxii  d. 
xii  d. 
iiii  d. 
vi  d". 
viii  d 

iiii  d. 

viii  d, 
viii  d. 

iii)  d, 

iiii  d. 

iiii  d. 
viii  d. 


vid. 


viii  d. 
iiii  d. 

iiii  d. 


9   D   4 


iiii  d. 

Mercury 


4q8 

Mercury  sublin*  the  pounds               -  *           .^tiid. 

Matches  for  gonnnes  the  pou'd               »  '         ^}}}  ^• 

Marmalade  the  pounde                ,              r  "        jiii  d. 

Mayles  the  pounde               -               -  ■         ""  ^• 
Mayles  the  hundreth  pounde               -            xxxiii  s.     iiiid. 

Iklylstones  the  pece                 -                 -  _x*s. 

Medlers  the  barrel!                 -                 -  ""  S. 

ISJeltynge  pottes  for  goldsmethes  the  thousande  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Musterde  quernes  the  dos^en                   -  x  8. 
Millin  gioue&  or  canary  the  groce             -           xxvi  s.     viii  d. 

Nitill  fyne  ann  course  the  pece                 -  xx  s. 

Nightcappes  the  dossen                       i  vi  s.    viii  d, 

JSIightcappes  of  skarlet  the  dosseij               -  x  s. 
Nutmegges  the  C,                   -                      v  1. 

Nidels  the  some  conteinynge  xii  M            -  x  s. 

Nedils  the  thousatide                    -                     -  ^^u  d. 

Nayles  the  great  barrell                 -                 -_  xl  s. 
Jfayles  smalle  the  barell                -                iii  1. 

Nuttes  called  walnuttes  the  barrell            -  -          xx  d. 

Nuttes  called  smal  nuttes  the  barell           -  xxx  s.      iiii  d. 

Nigelum  romayne  the  pou'de                 »  -             iiij  d. 

Nester  of  boxes  the  groce                     -  >ii  s.     iiiid. 

JNapkyns  of  the  Frenche  makyng  the  dosen  ii  s. 

Normandy  canuas  browne  the  C.  elles  xxx  s. 

Normandy  canuas  w  hit  the  hu'drith  elles  xl  s. 

Nauerne  boxe  for  combes  the  bale              -  vi  s.    viii  d. 

NeucastcU  canuas  th&C.  elles                -  xx  s. 

Oyle  the  tonne  -  -  iiii  1. 

Oltons  the  bolte                  -                   -  vi  s.    viii  d. 
Osenbreges  the  roule                 -                  x  1, 

Otener  threde  the  dossen  pound                 -  vs. 

Orpmente  the  C.  pounde                 -                -  x  s. 

Orchell  the  last                    -                    -  xl  s. 

Orchell  the  pounde                 -                 -  xiii  s.      iiii  d, 

Oynet  sede  the  hudreth  pou"de                 -  xx  s. 

Oreys  the  C.  pounde                      -  xiii  s.      iiii  d. 

Orsede  the  pounde                  -                 -  vi  d, 

Orsede  the  dossen  pound                         -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Olde  shetes  called  packinge  shetes  the  dossen  vis.     viiid. 

Olyuantes  teth  the  C.  pou'de                -  xx  s. 
Osraonde  the  laste                 -             -         iiii  1, 

Oynyons  the  C.  bunches                     -  vi  s.    viii  d. 

Oynyons  the  barrell                   -                 ~  viii  d. 

Orenges  the  thousande              -                -  iii  s.      iiiid. 

Okur  the  barrell                    -                    -  vi  s.    viii  d. 

Oeom  the  hundreth  pou*'d                    •  iii  s.    iiiid. 

Ors 


iili  d. 

xi|  d. 

XIII  s. 

iiii  d. 

vm  s. 

xii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

VI  s. 

viii  d. 

4©^ 

Ors  the  C.  conteining  vi  score  t  jjl  a, 

Ors  the  pece  -  -  , 

Otter  skynnes  the  pece  r  ? 

Oyle  debay  the  barrell  conteinynge  C  pouncle 

Ounce  ballandes  the  ^roce 

Ower  glasses  tr  e  dcssen 

Orgons  to  playe  on  the  pay  re  vt  suit  in  valore 

Oyle  delynsede  the  barel 

Oyle  called  baume  oyie  the  potte 

[To  be  concluded  in  the  next  Number.] 

J.H. 


fj  Poems  occasioned  ly  a  Melancholy  Vision.  Or,  a 
melancholy  Vision  vpon  diuers  Theames  enlarged^ 
which  ly  seuerall  Arguments  ensuinge  is  showed. 
His  gaudit  musa  ienelris.  By  H.  M.  London, 
printed  by  I.  D.  for  Laurance  Blaikelocke,  and  are 
to  le  sould  at  his  shopp  at  the  suger  loofo  next  Temple 
larr  in  Fleetstreet.  1639.  Oct, 

The  above  is  central  of  a  title-page,  engraved  in  com- 
partments, by  John  Droeshout.  Some  verses,  on  a  pre- 
ceding leaf,  give  *'  the  minde  of  the  frontispiece."  It  ig 
dedicated  to  Thomas  Earle  of  Winchelsee,  where  the 
author  says 

"  Musing  on  the  many  undeserved  favours  that  I  have  re- 
ceived from  your  Lordship,  which  I  know  not  how  to  requite,; 
I  thought  of  presenting  my  home-bred  muse  to  your  Honour 
being  the  first  fruits  of  my  poore  indeavours  in  this  kinde," 
(subscribed)  your  Honour's  most  humble  servant,  Humphry 
Mill. 

The  address  to  the  reader  contains  a  sort  of  common- 
place apology  for  the  printing.  The  lines  were  composed 
for  private  use,  and  only  th^  familiar  friend  to  see  the 
"melancholy  muse  in  her  closet;"  and  her  appearance 
"in  an  open  market,"  is  according  to  "  her  first  brtaih- 
ing,  without  altering  matter,  fashion  or  trimming."  And 
this  was  occasioned  by  her  being  "  backt  by  her  ac- 
quaintance/' 


4IO 

jquaintance,"  whence  he  conceived  if  leave  was  not  given 
'  she  would  take  it  unaskt,"  and  partly  from  perswasion 
he  consented  "  she  n^ight  come  and  goe  at  her  plea- 
sure." 

Comf)limentary  poems,  with  signatures  W.  G    P.  H. 
/Tho.  Collet,  ar)d  arj  acrostic  qn  the  author's  pame  by 

?-A-  ..  .  . 

ThepoemsareaMelancholyVjsion;  of  Tijne;  Vanityj 

Darkness;  Light;  Life;  Sin;  and  Death  :  The  reprieve 
of  Sin  and  Death;  Advice  about  Sin;  Instructions  touch- 
ing D^^th  and  the  resolutions  of  the  Muse — On  a  for- 
mer occasion,  a  long  specimen  is  given  of  the  author's 
poetry;  but,  as  "  first  fruits,"  may  be  given  the  com« 
mencing  lines  of  the  poem  on  Time,  which  rival  th& 
Sternboldiaii  school  in  glibness  of  iiieasure. 

"  O  Time,  thovi  art  that  precious  part, 
that  God  doth  give  to  man  : 
That  living  here,  inay  in  God's  feare, 
proceed  the  best  he  can. 

Time's  more  of  worth,  when  'tis  set  forth, 

in  nature  sweet  and  kinde. 
Than  gold:  being  lost,  the  man  is  crost, 

that  seekes  to  gaine,  or  finde. 

Time  being  gone,  sure  there  is  -none, 

can  call  it  backe  agaiue. 
Its  in  God  ['s]  hand.  Time  cannot  stand, 

the  Lord  of  times  doth  raigne. 

When  Time  is  past,  though  thou  make  haste. 

To  o're-take,  its  seldoine  scene, 
3pt  if  thou  creepe,  time  doth  not  sleepe, 

but  swift  hath  ever  beene. 

"•  If  thou  but  goe,  time  doth  not  so 
it  runnes,  thou  runn'st  'twill  flye, 
pet  time  before,  and  keepe  in  storcj, 
lest  God  thee  time  deny  " 

J.  H. 
TJie 


411 


%  The  Douhle- armed  Man.  By  the  New  Inueniioni 
Briefly  shewing  some  famous  Exploits  atchieued  hy 
our  Brittish  Bowmen ;  •with  seuerall  Portraitures 
proper  for  the  Pike  and  Buw.  By  W.  N.  Archer. 
[Wood-cut,  whole  length  of  a  Pikeman  with  his  bow 
resting  on  the  sloped  pike  taking  aim  for  shooling.J 
Printed  for  I.  Grismand,  at  the  signe  of  the  Gun  in 
Pauls  Alley.   16/5.  qto.  20  leaves. 

Inscribed  with  an  epistle  dedicatory  to  K.  Charles  I.  j 
and  the  author,  William  Neade,  Archer,  sets  forth  hi^ 
having  presented  the  king  a  year  before  with  the  follow- 
ing declaration  in  support  of  his  invent  on. 

"  Bowes  and  arrowcs  heretofore  haue  beene  famous  wea- 
pons of  warre,  both  ofFensiue  and  defensiue,  against  the  ene- 
mies of  these  kingdomes:  and  thereby  victorious  battels  and 
famous  conquests  haue  bin  gotlenj  though  now  they  are  im- 
ployed  to  no  vse  but  for  recreation  and  sport;  but  I  by  prac- 
tice, vvith  an  inuention  haue  attained  to  this  perfection  that  a 
souldier  with  his  corslet  and  pike  may  vse  bis  long  bow  and 
arrowes  with  great  agilitie,  more  force  and  aduantage  against 
the  enemy  than  euer  heretofore,  not  hindringthe  vse  of  gunnes 
or  other  weapons,  nor  incumbrance  to  the  pike  or  any  martiall 
discipline,  &c." 

An  address  "  to  the  most  high  covrt  of  Parliament," 
and  another  "  to  the  reader,"  wherein  the  writer  says, 

"  So  much  I  say  in  approbation  of  that  laudable  esercise  of 
Shooting,  which  exercise  is  now  (in  this  late  secure  age)  alto- 
gether neglected,  but  onely  in  this  Honourable  City  of  Lon- 
don, where  it  is  countenanced  and  maintained:  and  therefore  I 
may  not  omit  to  set  downe  in  honour  thereof,  that  once  euerie 
yeare  for  the  incouragement  and  maintenance  of  aiihery,  the 
Right  Honourable  the  Lord  Mayor,  doth  by  proclamation  giue 
notice  vnto  all  Archers,  of  certaine  .-.iluer  gamts  whiqh  they 
freely  doe  bestow  vpon  the  best  descruers:  and  this  is  main- 
tained as  a  custome  vnto  this  day:  and  out  of  tho^e  famous 
Archers  were  wont  to  be  chosen  the  chiefest  and  most  fittest, 
to  bee  of  the  Kings  Yeomen  of  his  Guard;  wliuh  incouragcd 
many  in  hope  of  such  preferments  to  exercise  shooting,  and 
thereby  to  be  very  expert  bowmen  :  and  by  these  and  such  like 
means,  the  best  deseruers  were  preferred,  and  the  King  well 

furnished 


4JS 

furnished  with  all  Bowmen,  and  the  whole  land  likewise  was 
inuincible  by  the  multitude  oi  BowRi^n." 

A  trite  historical  abridgement  of  the  ancient  use  and 
exercise  of  archery,  and  the  author's  invention  is  that  of 
pniting,  the  pike  and  bow  together. 

"  The  Bow  being  fastned  vnto  the  Pike  jn  the  place  where 
they  shoulder  the  Hike  it  is  thereby  caried  with  great  ease ; 
and  likewise  the  ['ike  is  a  rest  for  the  Bow-arme  for  drawing 
p|f^  his  bow,  being  made  fast  in  the  place  aforesaid  with  the 
origin ;  for  he  chargeth  not  his  bow-arrae  with  any  strength 
by  drawing,  but  onely  to  guide  his  arrow  towards  hjs  marke, 
by  which  belpe,  he  may  draw  a  bow  piuch  stronger  than 
ptherwise  he  could  doe," 

The  rule^,  words  of  cornmand,  and  six  several  portrai- 
tures, are  given ;  representing  the  pikeman  ordered, 
shooting,  ported,  charged,  couched  and  marching.  It  is 
rather  singular,  while  the  whole  tract  speaks  of  the  pike- 
man  as  a  foot  soldier,  the  artist  represents  him  as  uni- 
jFormly  in  boots  with  spurs.  The  wood  cuts  are  the  size 
of  the  page,  and  well  executed. 

«  * 


^  Certaine  godly  and  deuout  prayers.  Made  in  Latin 
ly  the  Reverend  father  in  God,  Cuthlert  Tunstall 
Bishop  of  Durham,  and  translated  into  Englishe  ly 
Thomas  Paynell,  clerke.  Col.  Imprinted  at  London 
in  Povles  Chvrcheyarde  at  the  sygne  of  the  holye 
Ghoste,  by  lohn  Cawoode.  Printer  to  the  Kinge  and 
Quenes  Maiestiej.  Jnno  1558.  Cum  priuilegiq,  &c. 
Small  Oct.  28  leaves. 

_  By  the  dedication  "  to  the  most  vertuous  lady  and  most  gra- 
tious  Queene  Marye,  doughter  vnto  the  most  victorious  and 
most  noble  prynce.kynge  Henry  theeyght,  kyngof  Englande, 
Fraunce  and  Ireland,  &c.  Thomas  Paynell  wysheth  moste  pros- 
perous helth  and  felicitie."  And  says  as  "  in  these  orations  & 
prayers  is  nothing  else  co~prised  but  the  sincere  &  true  word 
of  God— I  would  wyshe  therefore  (yf  I  may  be  so  bold  as  to 
wish  your  grace  a  good  tourne)  y'.  youre  hyghnes  with  the 
whole  company  of  your  vertuous  ladies  &  chast«  .damselles, 

your© 


41^ 

J'dure  graces  tiiost  beautiful!  &  pleasant  matydes,  wold  wiiari 
oportunltie  of  tyaie  shal  serue  pervse  these  heuenlye  prayersj 
deuduteiye  rede  them,  &  continually  mynd  and  record  them/' 

The  pages  have  double  columns,  with  the  original  and 
translation.  The  head  and  running  titles  are  printed  in 
red,  as  well  as  some  of  the  capitals  The  other  capitals 
have  figures,  and  the  volume  forms  au  unusually  elegattt 
Specimen  of  early  typography. 

*  * 


*[  The  Court  and  Kitchen  of  Elizaheth,  commbnhj 
called  Joan  Cromwel,  the  wife  of  the  late  Vsurpeff 
'truely  described  and  represented,  and  now  made  pub- 
lick  for  general  satisfaction.  London :  Printed  by 
fho.  Melbourn  for  Randal  Taylor  in  St.  Marlins 
he  Grand.  1664.  Duodecirno.  pp.  137. 

Prefixed  is  the  print  of  Mrs.  Cromwell,  with  the 
monkey  in  the  corner,  which  has  been  badly  and  not 
exactly  copied  for  Noble's  Memoirs.-  Under  the  prmt 
are  the  fallowing  lines : 

'   "  From  feigned  glory  and  usurped  throne. 
And  all  the  greatnesse  to  me  falsly  shown, 
And  from  the  arts  of  government  set  free. 
See  how  Protectresse  and  a  drpdge  agyee." 

The  copy  from  whence  this  account  is  taken  belonged 
to  James  West,  the  celebrated  Collector;  and  has  the 
following  memorandum  by  him. 

"  April  xi„  1743. 
"  This  very  rare   book  and  most  scarce  prl?ti  weve 
kindly  given  me  by  my  worthy  friend  Mr.  Blew,  Li- 
brarian of  the  Inner  Temple. 

James  West.'' 

It  contains  forty-five  pages  of  Memoirs.  The  rest  are 
filled  up  by  receipts,  containing  her  cookery.  The  intro- 
duction speaks  of  "  the  sordidifugality  and  thrifty  base- 
ness of  Oliver's  wife,  Eiizabe'th'-Bow<Sber,  the  daughter 

.      '  '    «f. 


-414 

bf  Sir  James  Bowcher,  commonly  called  Protectress); 
•Joan,  and  vulgarly  known  pf  later  years  by  do  other 
Christian  name,  even  in  the  greatest  height  of  her  hus- 
band's power,  and  that  chictiy  out  of  derision -andcon- 
temptuous  indignatinn,  that  such  a  person  durst  pre^umt 
to  take  lipon  herself  such  A  sovereign  estate^  ^hen  she 
was  an  hundred  times  fitter  for  a  barn  than  a  palace." 

But  as  this  little  tract  will  probably  be  immediately  re- 
printed, I  say  no  more  of  it  here.  B. 

(fj-  P.  S.  Z  undentand  that  since  this  nuas  'wriiUn,  it  has  beat 
reprinted. 


%  y\  Direction  for  tfis  Health  of  Magistrates  and  Slu- 
dentes.  Namely  suche  as  hee  in  their  consistent  ^ge, 
or  neere  thereunto  :  I)rttwen  astvell  out  of  siindry  good 
and  commendable  Jutkours,  as  also  vpon  reason  and 
faithfull  experience  otherivise  ceitaynely  grounded. 
IVritlen  in  Latin  by  Guilielmvs  GratdrolUs,  and 
Englished,  by  T.  N.  Imprinted  at  London,  iJi  Fleei- 
streete,  by  fVilliam  Hoiv,  for  Abraham  Feald  1574. 
Oct.  Xiiij. 

Dedicated  •■'  to  the  Right  Hotlordble  Malster  Francis'Wal- 
syngham,  Esquier,  one  of  the  principall  Secretaries  to  the 
Queenes  moste  excellent  Maiestie,  and  of  hir  M^iiesties  moste 
Honorable  Priuie  CounSell :"  who  is  assured  by  the  translator 
that  "  diet  is  the  safest,  the  surest  and  the  pleas^niest  way  that 
,  can  be  vsed  and  farre  to  be  preferred  before  nil  other  kiudes  pf 
remedies,  vnlesse  the  disease  be  of  such  vehemence  qualify,  con- 
dition and  extremitie  that  it  seeme  to  reqnyrS  some  great s'fieciaU 
consideration  otherwise,  and  in  time  of  sicknesse  is  not  onely  a 
special  &  harmlesse  recuratiue,  but  also  in  time  of  health,  the 
best  and  almost  thg  onely  preseruatiue.  And  for  that  I  saw  the 
Siime  in  this  litle  pamphlet,  so  Clerkcly  and  compendiously  de- 
cyphered,  I  hane  aduentured  to  deuest  him  of  his  Latine  weeide, 
and  after  a  homeiy  sorte  forced  into  barbarous  Englishe, 
whereby  although  I  hane  ministred  large  occasion  to  the. 
worlde,  to  tliinke  in  mee  some  spice  of  presumption  and  foly, 
for  thus  entermedlyng  in  an  art  nothinge  appendant  to-niy 
profession,  yet  do  1  not  mistrust  but  the  equanimilie  of  the  ho- 
nester  sort,  weighyng  my  good  will  and  meanynge  in  i\ia  ba- 
Jpnce  of  reasonable  consideration,  will  freendly  dispence  with 

my 


4IS 

lity  ouersight  that  way,  &  suspe~d  the  sinistre  doome  of  all 
opionatiue  affection.  Man  is  subiect  to  very  many  disfeases. 
Aniiquitie  reckened  vp  in  a  beatirolie,  and  registred  in  sundry 
ef  their  monuments  left  behinde  them  for  our  erudition  and 
furtheraunce,  three  hundred  and  odde  seuerall  kindes  of  mala- 
dies, beside  casuajties.  Since  when,  there  hath  eucreased  and 
sprong  vp  a  fresh  supply  and  svi'.irme  of  many  strange  and  new 
tfiseases  earst  not  kno.ven  nor  heard  of,  seemyng  as  it  were  to 
denounce  defiance  and  continual  warre  to  al  the  cunnyng  that 
phisicions  haue. — This  poore^  myte  of  mine,  such  as  it  is,  I 
humbly  offrc  vnto  your  good  worbhippe  as  vnto  him,  wbomc 
the  very  tytle  and  argument  of  the.bouke  did.  pecalicrlie  inaite 
me  to  make  choyse  of.  Not  doubtynge  bat  euen  as  God' and 
nature  hath  enfraunchysed  you  with  a  speciall  priuiledge  of 
wisdome,  learnyng  and  dignitle  aboue  many  thousandes  of 
others,  «o  your  honorable  disposition  will  not  esttaunge  your 
worthic  patrocinie  to  the  symple  doynges  of  other  inferiours, 
who  in  a  farre  lower  degree  by  such  honest  waies  as  this,  do 
seeke  to  insinuate  themselues  into  your  acquayntaunce,  and  de- 
sire to  be  enrolled  in  the  kalender  of  your  mo?,!e  faithfull  sup- 
pliauntes.  "The  Lorde  perfourme  aad  finish  that  in  you  whiche 
lie  hath  richliebeegunne,  andgraunte  vnto  you  a  moste  healih- 
full  mynde  within  a  healthfull  bodie  euen  so  longe  as  natures 
boundes  may  stretche  to  the  aduauncement  of  his  glorie  and 
the  commodite  of  this  your  countrey,  and  afteryour  pilgri- 
mage heere  ended,  mercifully  conduct  you  to  the  ioyes  of  his 
glorious  hierarchie. 

Your  H.  most  humble,  Thomas  Newton." 

Thomas  Newton  was  the  poet.  The  directions  for  pre- 
serving health  are  chiefly  of  exercise  and  diet.  One  sec- 
tion may  be  selected. 

"  OfFislle. 

"  Fyshes  for  the  moste  parte  are  not  holesome,  or  they  are 
of  smale  and  ill  nourisbement  and  leaue  manye  sufluities  in 
*he  body  and  also  are  easlie  corupted.  And  therefore  Auicen 
counsaileth  vs  not  to  eate  them  after  vehement  and  stronge 
exercise,  because  they  will  soone  be  turned  into  corruption  and 
do  also  corrupt  the  humours.  And  in  an  other  place  (which 
.is  also  auoHched  by  Galen)  he  sayeth  that  fishe  beinge  new  and 
fresh  engendreth  phlegme  and  mollifieth  the,  ventricle,  and  is 
not  to  be  eaten  but  of  them  which  haue  very  hoate  stomackes, 
because  they  be  verye  colde  and  moyste,    Beynge  sailed  they 

are 


41 6 

are  hoate  and  drye,  and  therfore  for  them  thai  be  phlegma- 
ticke  it  is  better  to  eate  them  salted,  and  in  winter  or  at  the 
beginninge  of  spring :  but  for  cholerique  persons  and  in  hoafe 
seasons  they  are  best  when  they  be  new  and  moyste,  but  the 
surest  and  best  way  is  altogether  to  abstaine  from  them.  The 
Greeke  poet  Homer  for  his  manifolde  krioweledge  in  al  facul- 
ties uporrhie  to  be  called  the  perelesse  phenix  of  learninge  most 
learnedly  bringeth  in,  that  Vlisses  v/hen  he  had  tradailed  lohge 
vpon  the  seas,  arid  all  his  victualles  were  sperlt,  was  by  neces- 
sitie  enforced  and  driuen  to  fishe.  Meaninge  therby,  that  so 
longe  as  we  may  Hue  without  fishe,  we  shoulde  reffaine  it. 
But  fjr  asmuche  as  eueiie  man  may  not  alwayes  eate  eggd 
nor  fleshe,  nor  at  all  seasons  without  any  respect  and  diffe- 
rence, and  also  appetite  many  times  beareth  swathe  aboue  rea- 
son :  therefore  1  will  declare  &  describe  such 'fishes  as  are  lest 
hurtfuU.  And  first  this  is  to  be  kiiowen,  that  ihose 'fishes  art! 
best  which  be  neither  verye  harde  and  drye,  neyther  yet  full 
of  slitnie  and  clammie  toughnes,  neither  opplete  with  much 
fattinesse  (for  all  fatte  is  ill,  but  of  fishes  the  fittenesse  iS 
■Worse  then  anye  other)  neyther  of  ill  sauoure  and  relice:  but 
pleasant  sweete  and  toothsome  in  taste,  and  which  will  ncft 
soone  stinkc  after  they  be  taken  out  of  the  water.  It  isfurrher 
also  to  be  noted  that  of  those  which  are  soft  and  tender,  the 
greatest  are  best,  but  of  hard  fishe  take  the  smalest.  For  that 
which  among  moyst  thinges  is  found  drye,  must  bfe  taken  as 
moderate  as  that  is,  which  amtinge  drye  thinges  is  founde 
moyste.  Yet  let  a  conuenient  mrasure  aswell  in  the  bigness* 
as  in  the  smalenesje  be  obserued.  Also  the  fishes  that  Hue 
about  cleare  rockes  and  in  stony  places  are  (as  Galen  sayetb) 
better  then  any  other. 

"  And  it  is  not  without  good  canst;  that  suche  fishes  be 
preferred  and  winne  the  commendacio"  from  others.  For  they 
exercise  and  mooue  themselues  muche  and  often,  and  lye  in 
sUche  places,  where  I  hey  are  often  tossed  and  beaten  with  the 
continuall  surges  and  waues  of  the  tempestuous  sea,  and  neuer 
are  embroyned  with  anye  filth  or  diertie  slimishnes. 

"  Those  fishes  also  are  greatly  commended  that  come  swym- 
minge  out  of  the  sea  into  riuers,  sith  they  come  agaynst  the 
streame,  and  the  further  of  tlwt  they  be  from  the  sea,  the 
holesomer  and  better  they  are.  Nest  vnto  them  are  those  that 
Hue  in  sandie  places,  and  those  that  breede  in  cleare  and  frcshc 
run  inge  water,  that  is  without  much  mudde.  Furthermore 
those  fishes  that  feede  vpon  sweete  herbes,  rootes  and  weedt-s 
aboute  the  banke  sides  are  better  then  those  that  Hue  by  mudde 
and  slime:  amonge  which  ill  sorte  are  those  -fishes  that  are 

called 


417 

called  mugles  or  lompes,  which  are  not  holesome  although 
they  seeme  to  haue  a  pleasant  laste  and  sauoure.  Therefore  al 
such  fishes  as  Hue  in  filthye  puddles>  fennes,  marshes^  dyches 
and  standinge  waters  whiche  moue  not,  are  to  be  eschewed. 

"  This  general!  waininge  now  premised  briefly  and  namelye 
let  vs  touche  suche  sortes  of  fyshes  as  are  best  and  most  suf- 
ferable,  supposed  to  be  of  good  nourishment  and  of  lightest 
concoction.  Good  and  holesome  is  the  Gilthead  (called  Aurata 
and  of  the  Greeques  Chrysophris  because  it  hath  inhisfoie- 
head  a  thinge  congclate  which  in  the  water  shineth  like  golde 
as  in  the  olde  ones  it  is  to  be  seene)  they  geeue  muche  nou- 
rishement  and  therefore  are  difEcultie  digested.  So  is  the  ro- 
che't  and  sea  pearches.  But  riuer  pearches  (whiche  are  like  in 
maner  to  the  other)  are  of  pleasaunt  taste  and  good  to  begeeueti 
nowe  and  then  to  them  that  haue  a  feruent  ague,  when  their 
appetite  is  quight  gone  through  vehemencie  of  heat.  Carpes 
are  pleasaunt  and  toothesome:  so  are  also  troutes  and  gogions, 
but  those  are  best  that  are  white  and  little,  for  they  be  softe, 
mollefiynge,  of  good  iuyce  and  concoction,  but  those  that  are 
greene  and  blackishe  are  worste.  Of  good  iuyce  also  are  mul- 
lets and  barbilles,  beinge  meane  betweene  harde  and  tender 
as  Cornelius  Celsus  wryteth  and  Galen  affirmeth  the  same. 
They  binde  the  bellie  speciallie  beinge  broyled  on  the  coales  ; 
but  fried  they  are  heauie  and  hard  to  digest.  Athensus  wri- 
teth  that  if  a  liuinge  mullet'  be  put. into  wine  and  choked  or 
strangled  therin,  whatsoeuer  man  drinketh  ot  the  same  wyne-, 
shall  not  be  able  to  do  the  acte  of  generatiu".  Dioscorides 
saieth  that  much  and  often  eatinge  thereof  dymmeth  the  eye- 
sight. Pliuie  writeth  that  the  pouldre  made  of  the  bead  of  a 
fieshe  mullet,  hath  great  vertue  against  al  venime  and  poyson, 
speciallie  if  it  happen  throughe  the  stinging  of  any  liuing  crea- 
ture. And  they  be  calledmuUettes  and  barbilles,  because  they 
h.^ue  two  barbes  or  wartes  on  their  neither  iawes. 

"  Eeles  are  not  holesoftie  because  they  be  moyste  and  slymie; 
of  whom  I  will  here  geeue  a  note  or  twaine,  not  hitherto  of 
anye  almoste  marked.  All  alonge  the  backebone  of  an  eele, 
there  goeth  a  blacke  stringe  like  a  small  veine  (as  it  is  in  the 
tayle  of  a  crabbe)  in  which  blacke  veine  a  certaine  poyson  is 
inchided,  whiche  ought  to  be  drawen  out  before  the  eele  be 
boy  led,' and  he  requireth  longer  time  of  seething  then  any- 
other  fis.he.  Beynge  broyled,  it  nourisheth  better  then  whea 
it  is  boyledi  because  the  fier  taketh  away  his  vicious  and 
naughtie  humour;. 

"  Phisicions  do  altogether  reiecte  the  eatinge  of  them  abopt 

Midsomer.  They  that  are  moste  firme,  solide  and  fatte  are  best, 

VOL.  II.  E  E  and 


4i8 

and  sp<!ciallie  the  femalles  (there  snoute  or  nose  is  tourned  vp- 
warde  more  then  the  males)  but  if  my  counsell  may  be  fol- 
lowed, it  were  best  for  suphe  persons  as  in  this  treatise  arc 
ment  to  forbeare  them  altogether,  at  all  seasons  in  the  yere, 
for  they  be  of  harde  concoctio"  and  engendre  very  grosse  and 
slimie  humour,  albeit  to  cormerauntes  and  epicures  they  seeme 
to  go  down  their  throte  pleasauntlie.  I  once  read  this  of 
an  eele,  in  a  worke  of  a  certaine  naturall  philosopher  and  haue 
taught  the  same  to  manye,  albeit  I  knowe  no  man  that  as  yet 
hath  put  it  in  proofe,  neyther  yet  my  self.  Now  whether  his 
conclusion  be  true  or  no,  let  the  authoure  himselfe  shifte  and 
aunswer  it.  If  you  woulde  make  some  notorious  drunkard  and 
common  swil-bowle  to  loth  and  abborre  his  beastlie  vice  and 
for  euer  after  to  hate  the  drinking  of  wine  :  put  an  eele  alyuc 
into  some  wyde  mouthed  potte  with  a  couer,  hauing  in  it  suche 
a  quantitie  of  wine  as  maye  sutEce  of  it  selfe  to  suffocate  and 
strangle  the  eele  to  death.  Which  doone  take  out  the  dead 
eele,  and  let  Ihe  parlie  whom  you  would  haue  reclaymed  from 
his  bibacitie,  not  knowing  hereof  drinke  of  that  wine  onely, 
euen  as  muche  as  he  listeth.  The  same  vertue  (assoni  wryte) 
hath  the  water  that  distilleth  out  of  a  vine  when  it  is  cutte  and 
pruned,  if  it  be  mixed  with  wine,  and  geeuen  to  drinke  twise 
or  thrise  to  one  that  knoweth  not  of  it.  But  let  vs  againe  re- 
tourn  to  fishes.  Crabbes  for  the  most  parte  are  to  be  eschewed 
for  they  be  ill  for  the  head:  and  vnder  crabbes  we  also  meane 
all  periwincles  and  shrimpes.  All  kindes  of  shelfishes  as  oys- 
ters, cockles,  limpettes,  muscles,  &c.  are  seldome  andsparinge- 
lie  to  be  eaten.  The  dressinge  of  the  must  be  such,  as  the 
nature  of  the  fishes  themselues,  time,  season  and  custome  re- 
quireth:  but  those  that  be  moyste  and  soft  speciallie  in  moyste 
seasons  are  best  rosted,  that  is  to  say,  dressed  onely  with  fyer 
without  any  water  or  any  other  licoure.  Notwithst'andinge, 
we  may  vse  oyle  and  vinegre  to  sauce  and  relice  the  same  the 
better.  But  harde  and  toughe  fishes  were  better  to  be  boyled 
and  wel  sodden  then  either  rosted  or  broyled.  Finallie  this  I 
say  for  a  generall  rule,  that  al  cold  or  moysi  meates  are  holpen 
and  qualified  by  drinkinge  good  wine  and  eatinge  good  spice* 
withall."  *  * 


tI   Verses  ly  Sir  Robert  Maitland. 

The  following  lines  by  Sir  R,  Maitland  of  Leiding- 
towne,  have  probably  never  been  printed.  They  are 
slightly  noticed  by  Mr.  Pinkerton,  along  with  several 

other 


419 

other  productions  of  the  same  author,  left  unpublished. 
(See  Maitland's  Poems,  Vol.  II.  p.  460.) 

"  When  I  have  done  considder 

this  warld's  vanitie, 
Sa  brukiland  sa  slidder,, 

sa  full  of  miserie ; 
Then  I  remember  me, 

that  heir  thair  is  no  rest; 
Thairfoir  appeirantlie, 

to  be  mirrie  is  best. 

Let  us  be  blythe  and  glaid, 

my  freindis  all  I  prayj 
To  be  pensive  and  sad 

na  thing  it  help  us  may. 
Thairfoir  put  quyt  away, 

all  hevines  of  thocht  j 
Thoch  we  murne  night  &  day, 

it  will  availl  us  nocht. 
It  will  not  be  our  sorrowe, 

that  will  stoip  godis  hand. 
To  strik  baith  evin  and  morrows 

baith  on  the  sie  and  land. 
Sen  nane  may  it  gaine  stand, 

let  us  be  all  content. 
To  underly  the  wand 

of  godis  punishment. 

Quhat  god  pleasis  to  do, 

accept  it  thankfullie ; 
Quhat  paine  he  puttis  us  to, 

receave  it  patientlie. 
And  give  that  we  would  be 

releivit  of  oiir  paine. 
For  sinne  ask  god  mercie ; 

offend  him  nocht  againe. — 

Sen  first  the  warld  begzna, 

thair  hes  been  trubill  ay, 
for  punishment  of. men ; 

and  sail,  quhill  domsday. 
And  sen  we  may  not  stay, 

what  god  pleis  do  us  till, 
Ouhat  he  will  on  us  lay, 

receave  it  with  guid  will. 

E  £  2  For 


4ZO 

For  god  will  lay  some  sturgo 

quhill  that  the  warld  tak  end; 
Fra  sinne  the  warld  to  purge, 

will  ay  some  plaigis  sendl 
Bot  quha  will  lyfe  amend, 

and  pray  to  sinne  na  mair. 
Then  god  will  him  defend 

fra  everlasting  cair. 

Yet,  plainelie  I  conclude 

into  all  wardtienes, 
Nathing  for  man  sa  guide 

as  lesom  mirrines. 
For  thair  is  na  riches, 

Sa  lang  this  lyfe  can  lenthe. 
Conserve  him  fra  seiknes, 

and  keip  him  in  bis  strenthc. 

Thairfoir  with  trew  intent, 

let  us  at  god  ask  grace. 
Our  sinnes  to  repent, 

quhile  we  haue  tyrae  k  space. 
Syn  bring  us  to  that  place,    ' 

quhair  joy  is  evermoir ; 
And  sie  god  face  to  face, 

in  his  eternall  gloir. 

Finis,  qi.  SirR.M." 

A,  M.  M. 


"I  The  Palis  ofHcnoure  Compyled  ly  Gawyne  dowglass 
Byshope  of  Dunkyll.  Imprinted  at  London  in  flet- 
stret,  at  the  sysne  oj  the  Rose  garland  ly  wyllyam 
Copland.  God  se^ue  Quene  Marye.*  Col.  Im- 
printed at  London  in  Flete  strete  at  the  sygne  of  the 
Rose  garland,  ly  Wyllyam  Coplande.  qto.  extends  to 
K  iiij. 

The  above  title  is  in  the  same  compartment  as  the 
author's  translation  of  Virgil  :t  the  sentence  *'  God 

*  This  title  is  the  only  part  printed  in  roman. 

t  See  Herbert,  p.  357- 

saue 


421 

saue  Clueene  Marye,"  occupying  the  vacancy  of  the 
tablet,  wjiere  the  date  stands  in  the  other.  It  is  probable 
both  works  we're  printed  at  the  same  lime,  and  intended 
to  bind  in  one  volume,  (as  in  the  copy  before  me)  there 
not  being  Copland's  name  to  the  first,  though  printed  by 
him,  and  only  the  word  "  finis"  at  the  end,  *  How- 
ever, the  present  poem  has  not  any  folios,  and  the  signa- 
tures commence  with  A  in  fours,  while  the  other  is  folded 
in  eights. -f  It  is  without  date,  though  it  is  usually  re- 
ferred to  as  printed  1553,  the  date  of  the  Virgil. 

The  Palace  of  Honour  was  again  printed  at  Edinburgh, 
1579,  and  Pinkerton  formerly  described  "  both  editions 
rare  to  excess  *,"  J  but  that  editor  has  since  been  enabled 
to  reprint  the  poem,  properly  collated  by  them,  §  which 
has  appeared  too  recent  to  leave  little  more  necessary  at 
present  than  a  typographical  description.  || 

A  blank  fly-leaf  forms  A  i,  and  the  poem  commences 
on  the  back  of  the  title-page  (A  ij)  with  an  unentitled 
prologue  of  fourteen  stanzas,  ending  reverse  of  A  iiij 
where  a  half  page  is  filled  with  a  wood-cut  of  the  arms 
of  England  and  France  on  a  shield  quarterly,  the  garter 
surmounting,  and  beneath  a  griffin  and  greyhound  up- 
holding. With  B  i  "  This  Palys  of  Honour,"  com- 
mences: at  the  conclusion  of  seventy-one  stanzas,  a  head 
title  of  "  The  seconde  parte,"  which  goes  through  fifty- 
seven  stanzas,  then  ''Thethyrd  parte,"  of  ninety- four 

*  For  an  account  of  the  Firgil  see  Warton's  History  of  Poetry, 
Vol.  II.  p.  2X1.     Censura  Literaria,  Vol.  III.  p.  286.  VIII.  p.  37. 

t  The  Virgil  runs  into  the  third  alphabet  to  b  b  vij.  has  a  regu- 
lar folio,  ending  Ccclxxxi,  wiiAoa/ title-page,  Herbert  describes 
by  error,  one  leaf  less. 

X  Ancient  Scotish  Poems,  1786,  Vol.  I.  p.  xciv. 

§  ^K  Scotish  Poems,  reprinted  from  scarce  editions,  1792,  Vol.  I. 
p.  51. 

II  gibbald  has  also  reprinted  some-  very  long  extracts  from  this 
poem.  See  Chronicle  of  Scottish  Poetry,  iRoz,  Vol.  I.  p.  386.  By 
an  injudicious  mode  of  abridgment,  it  requires  an  immediate 
comparison  to  trace  where  the  omissions  are  made  by  this  editor  ; 
nOrhave  I  ascertained  his  reason  for  distinguishing  the  lines  by 
brackets  at  p.  418:19,  as  they  occur  in  the  present  copy  and  in  Pin- 
kerton, whose  edition  he  has  evidently  made  use  of, 

£53  stan2;as;t 


42  2 

Stanzas,  and  a  conclusion;  by  which  "  The  auctor  dirckit 
his  buke  to  the  rycht  nobill  Prynce,  James  the  ferd  Kyng 
ofScotiis,"  of  three  more.  Running  title  "  The  Palys 
of  Honour."  * 

Thedescriptive.powersof'Douglas's  muse  are  universally 
known.  Warton  partly  copies  the  prologue  to  the  twelfth, 
book  of  Virgil,  and  to  render  it  more  intelligible  repeats 
it  in  modern  prose,  which  contains  a  beautiful  and  ani- 
mated description  of  May:  Ritson  selected  the  chilling 
delineation  of  Winter,  in  the  seventh  prologue,  for  his 
Caledonian  Muse,  accompanying  it  with  an  incidental 
vignette  from  the  graver  of  Stothard.  The  Summer  formed 
a  favourite  subject  with  the  author  :  he  commences  the 
present  poem  with  the  following  description  of  May. 

"  Ovhen  pale  Aurora  with  face  amentabte 
Hir  russat  niantill  borderit  all  with  sable 
Lappit  about  be  heuinlye  circumstance 
The  tender  bed  and  arres  honorable 
Of  Flora  quene  till  flouris  amyable 
In  May  I  rays,  to  do  my  obseruance, 

■  And  entrit  in  a  garding  of  plesance 
With  Sole  depaint,  as  paradys  amyable 
And  blisfuU  b^wes,  with  blomed  wariance. 
So  craftely  dame  flora  had  ouer  fret 
Hir  beuinly  bed,  powderit  with  mony  a  set 
Of  ruby,  topas,  perle,  and  emerant : 
With  balmy  dewe,  b^thit,  and  kyndly  wet 
Quhil  vapours  bote  right  fresche  and  wele  ybet 
Duke  of  odour,  of  flewour  most  fragrant. 

The  sillier  droppis  on  dayseig  distiJlant. 
Cluhilk  verdour  branches  ouer  the  alars  zet 

With  smoky  sence  ye  mystis  reflcctant. 

The  fragrant  flouris  blpmand  in  their  seis 

Ouerspred  ye  leues  of  naturis  tapestreis. 

Aboue  the  quhilk  with  heuinly  armoneis 

The  birdes  sat  on  twistis  and  on  greis 

Melodiously  makand  their  kyndly  gleis 

Quhois  scbill  notis,  fordinned  al  the  skyis. 

t  The  advertisement  "  to,  the  reidar,"  the  argument  of  each 
pirt,  with  an  additional  stanza  in  the  third,  and  a  numeration  of 
the  verses,  appear,  by  Pinlterton.tohave  been  added  to  the  Scotch 
edition  of  1579.  .       ■  ■ 

0( 


423 

Of  reparcust  ayr  the  eccon  cries. 
Among  the  branchis  of  the  blomed  treis 
And  on  the  laurers  siluer  droppis  lyis. 

Quhyll  that  I  rowmed  in  that  paradice 
Replennessed  and  full  of  all  delice 
Out  of  the  sea.  Ecus  alift  his  heid 
I  meyne  the  hors  quhilk  drawls  at  deuice 
The  assiltre  and  goldin  chaire  of  pryte 
Of  Tytan,  quhilk  at  morowe  semis  reid 
The  new  colour  that  al  the  night  lay  deid 
Is  restored,  baith  fowlis,  flowris,  and  ryce 
Reconfort  was,  throw  Phebus  gudly  heid. 

The  dasy  and  tlie  maryguld  onlappit 

Quhilkis  all  the  nicht  lay  with  thair  leuis  happi; 

Thaim  to  preserue  fra  rewmes  pungitiue 

The  vrabrate  treis  that  Tytan  about  wappit 

War  portrait,  and  on  the  erth  yschappit. 

Be  goldin  hemes  viuificatiue, 

Quhois  amene  here  is  niost  restoratiue. 

The  gershoppers  amangis  the  vergers  gnappit 

And  beis  wrocht  materiall  for  thair  hyue. 

Richt  halsom  was  the  sessoun  of  the  zeir, 
Phebus,  furth  zet  depured  hemes  cleir, 
Maist  nutrityue  tyll  all  thynges  vigitant. 
God  Eolus  of  wynd  list  nochtappeir 
Nor  aid  Saturne  with  his  mortall  speir 
And  bad  aspect  contiar  til  euery  plant 
Neptunus  nolde  within  that  palace  hant 
The  beriall  stremes  rynnyng  men  micht  heir 
By  bonkis  grene  with  glancis  variant. 

For  till  beholde  that  heuinly  place  complete 
The  purgit  ayr  with  new  engendrit  hete  : 
The  soyle  enbroude  with  colowr,  vre  and  stunt. 
The  tender  grerie,  the  balmy  droppes  swete 
So  reioysyt  and  confort  was  my  sprete 
I  not  wes  it  a  vision  or  fanton 
Amyd  the  buskys  rowmyng  niyn  alone 
Within  that  garth  of  all  plesans  replete 
A  voce  I  hard  preclare  as  Phebus  schone. 
Syngand  O  May  thow  myrrour  of  sole? 
Maternall  moneth  lady  and  maistres 
Tyl  euery  thing  adoun  respirature 
Thyn  heuinly  werk  and  worthy  craftincs, 
The  sraali  herbis  constrenis  tylencres 

E  E  4  Qverray 


424 

Overray  ground  tyl  werking  of  nature 
Qubois  hie  curage-and  assncuryt  cure 
Causis  the  erth  his  frutis  tyll  expres 
Dyffundant  grace  on  euery  creatuie. 

Thy  godlv  lore,  ciuiyng  incomparabyl, 
Dantis  the  sauage  bestis  maist  vnstabyl : 
And.expelli'.  all  that  nature  infestis 
The  knoppit  syonys  with  leuys  agreabyl 
For  tyl  reuert  and  burgione  ar  maid  abyll 
Thy  myrth  refreschis  birdis  in  thair  nestis 
Quhilkis  the  to  pryse  and  nature  neuer  restiis 
Confessand  zou  mai'^t  potent  and  louabyll 
Amaug  the  brownys  of  the  olyue  twystes." — 


J.  H. 


Tj  The  Fardle  of  fjcions  conieining  the  aunciente 
maners,  customes,  and  Lawes,  of  ike  people  en hahit- 
ing  the  two  partes  of  the  earth  called  Affrike  and 
Asie.  Printed  at  London  hj  Ihon  Kivgstene,  and 
Henry  Sutton.  1555.  Col.  Imprinted  at  London  hy 
Ihon  Kyngsion  and  Henrie  Sutton.  The  xxii  dayc  of 
December.  Anno  Domini  31 D.  LV.  In  eights; 
z  iij  besides  *  iiij  introduction. 

Dedicated  to  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  and  the  translator  tells 
him:  "  aftre  what  time  the  barrein  traueiles  of  longe-seruice, 
had  driue~  me  to  thinke  libertie  the  best  rewarde  of  my  simple 
life,  light  honorable  Erie,  and  that  I  had  determined  to  leaue 
wrastlyng  with  fortune,  and  to  giue  myself  wholie  to'liuevpon 
niy  studie,  and  the  labours  of  my  hand:  I  thought  it  mostc 
fitting  with  the  diietie  that  I  owe  to  God  and  manne,  to  be- 
stowe  my  time  (if  I  could,  as  well  to  the  profite  of  other,  as  of 
my  self.  Not  coueting  to  make  of  my  floudde  another  ma~nes 
ebbe  (the  cancre  of  all  commune  wealthes)  but  rather  to  sette 
other  aflote,  where  I  myself  strake  on  grou~d.  Tourningme 
therefore,  to  the  searche  of  wisedome  and  vertue,  for  whose 
sake  either  we  tosse,  or  oughte  to  tosse  so  many  papers  and 
tongues,  although  I  founde  aboute  myself  verie  litle  of  that 
threasure,  yet  remerabred  I  that  a  fevve  yeres  paste,  at  the  in- 
staunce  of  a  good  citezcin  (who  might  at  those  daies,  by  anc- 

thoritie 


425 

thoritie  commaunde  me">  I  had  begonne  td  translate^  a  hUe 
booke  named  in  the  Latine,  Omnium  gentium  mores,  gathered 
longe  sence  by  one  lohannes  Boeir.us,  a  manne  as  it  apfwreth 
of  good  iudgemente  and  diligence:  but  so  corrupted  in  the 
printing  that  aftre  1  had  wrasteled  a  space  with  sondrie  printes, 
I  rather  determined  to  lose  my  labour  of  the  quartre  translacion, 
then  to  be  shamed  with  the  h.iulf.  And  throwing  it  aside,  en- 
tended  no  further  to  wearie  my  self  thT  withall,  at  the  least 
vntill  I  might  tinde  a  booke  of  a  bettre  impressio~.  In  search- 
ing wherof  at  this  my  retourne  to  my  studie  although  I  found 
not  at  the  full  that,  that  I  sought  for;  yet  vndrestanding 
emong  the  booksellers  (asx)ne  talks  bringes  in  another)  that 
men  of  good  learning  and  eloquf~ce  both  in  the  French  and 
Italien  tongue  had  not  thought  skorne  to  bestowe  their  time 
abonte  the  translarion  therof,  and  that  the  Emperours  Maiestie 
that  now  is,  vouched  saulfe  to  receiue  the  presentacion  therof 
at  the  Frenche  translatours  hande,  as  well  appereth  in  his 
booke:  it  kindled  me  againe,  vpon  regal-d  of  mine  owne 
profite,  and  other  mennes  moe  to  bring  that  to  some  good 
pointe  thdt  earstlhad  begonne."  Subscribed,  "  William Watre- 
man." 

The  preface  of  the  author  refers  to  the  father  of  stories 
Herodotus,  EHodorus,  Berosus,  Strabo,  Ptolomeus, 
Plinius,  and  many  others,  from  whence  the  sum  of 
things  is  compiled  in  one  book,  that  the  reader  was  wont 
with  tediousness  to  seek  in  many.  The  origin  and  pro- 
gress of  mankind  is  given  in  summary,  and  by  increase 
described  as 

"  Not  contented  with  the  commodities  of  ihe  fieldes  and 
cattle  alone,  but  by  diners  inuencions  of  handecraftes  and 
scie'ces  and  by  sOndrie  labours  of  this  life  thei  sought  how  to 
wjnne.  Now  pan  tbei  tattempt  the  sease  wilh  tnany  deuices, 
to  transplante  their  progenie,  and  ofspring  into  places  vnen- 
habited,  and  to  enioye  the  commodities  of  eche  others  countrie, 
by  mutuall  trafficque.  Now  tame  ibe  oxe  to  the  yoke,  the 
horse  to  the  draught,  the  metalle  to  the  sta"pe,  the  apparel  to 
handsomnes,  the  speach  to  more  finesse,  the  behauour  to 
menne  to  a  more  calmene sse,  the  fare  more  deintie,  the  build- 
yng  more  gorgeous,  thenhabitours  ouer  all  became  milder  and 
wittier,  shaking  of  (euen  of  their  owne  accorde)  the  bruteshe 
outrages  and  stearne  dealinges,  y'.  shamefully  mought  be 
spokeri  of.  Nowe  refrained  thei  from  sleaying  one  of  another, 
fro~  eatyng  of  ech  others  flesh,  from  rape  and  open  defiling  of 
jjipther,  sister,  and  daughter  indiffere"tly,  and  fro"  many  like 

abhominacions 


426 

abhominacions  to  nature  and  honestie.  Thei  now  maiieng 
reason,  with  strength;  and  poUicie  with  might:  where  the 
earthe  was  before  forgrowen  with  bushes,  and  wooddes,  stuffed 
with  many  noisome  beastes,  drouned  with  meares,  and  with 
marshcj  vhfitte  to  be  enbabited,  waast  and  vnbandsome  in 
euery  condiciou  :  by  wittie  diligence,  and  labour,  ridde  it 
from  encombraunce,  planed  the  roughes,  digged  vp  trees  by 
the  rootes,  dried  away  the  superfluous  waters,  brought  all  into 
leauelle,  banished  barreinesse,'  and  vncouered  the  face  of  the 
earth,  that  it  might  fully  be  sene,  conuerted  the  champeine  to 
tillage,  the  plaines  to  pasture,  the  valley  to  meadow,  the  hilles 
thei  shadowed  with  woodes  and  with  vines.  1  hen  thruste  thei 
in  cultreand  share,  and  with  wide  woundes  of  the  earthe,  wan 
wine  and  corne  plenfeously  of  the  grounde,  that  afore  scarcely 
gaue  thetn  akornes  and  crabbes.  Then  enhabited  thei  more 
thicke  and  spred  themselues  ouer  all,  and  buylte  euery  where. 
Oftounesthei  mgde  cities,  and  of  villages,  tounes.  Castles 
vpon  the  rockes,  and  in  the  valleis  made  thei  the  temples  of 
the  goddes.  The  golde~  graueled  springes  thei  encurbed  with 
marble,  &  with  trees  right  pleasaundie  shadowed  them  aboute. 
From  them  thei  deriued  into  cities  and  tounes,  the  pure  freshe 
waters  a  greate  distannce  of,  by  conduicte  of  pipes  and  troughes, 
and  suche  other  conueyaunce.  Where  nature  had  hidden  the 
waters  out  of  sighte,  thei  sancke  welles  of  great  deppth,  to 
supplie  their  lackes.  Riuers,  and  maigne  floudes,  wbiche  afore 
with  vnbrideled  violence,  oftymes  ouerflowed  the  neighboured 
aboute,  to  the  destruction,  of  their  cattle,  their  houses,  and 
themselues  :  thei  restrained  with  bancques,  and  kept  them  in 
a  course.  And  to  the  ende  thei  might  not  onely  be  vadable, 
but  passed  also  with  drie  foote,  thei  deuised  meanes  with  piles 
of  timbre,  apd  arches  of  stone,  maulgre  the  rage  of  their  vior 
lent  streames,  to  ground  bridges  vpon  them.  -Yea,  the  rockes 
of  the  sea  which?  for  the  daungier  of  the  accesse,  thoughte 
themselues  exempte  from  the  dinte  of  their  hande  when  thei 
perceiusd  by  experience  thei  ware  noyous  to  sailers,  with  vht 
speakeable  labour  did  thei  ouerthrowe  &  breake  into  gobettes, 
Hewed  put  haue"s  on  euery  strond,  enlarged  crieques,  opened 
rodes,  and  digged  out  lierborowes,  where  their  Shippes  mighte 
ride  saulfp  fro  the  storme.  Finally,  thei  so  laboured,  beautified, 
and  perfeighted  the  earthe,  that  atthisdaie  compared  with  the 
former  naturalle  forgrowep  wastenesse,  it  might  well  sieme 
not  to  be  that  but  rather  the  paradise  of  pleasure,  out  of  the 
whiche  the  first  patternes  of  mankinde  (Adam  and  Eue)  fo^ 
|ie  transgression  of  Goddes  precept,  ware  clriuep," 


427 

The  account  of  Africa  and  Asia,  and  their  various  na- 
tions, is  amply  stored  with  the  incredible  fables  of  an-< 
tiquity;  and,  at  the  end  of  the  volume,  is  ''  the  treatise 
of  Josephiis,  conteyning  the  ordres,  and  Lawes  of  the 
Jewes  commune  weallhe-^translated  out  of  a  Latine  text, 
laid  worde  for  woorde,  aunsweringe  to  the  Greeke,"  and 
the  translator  is  equally  scrupulous  in  devising  theEnglish. 

*  * 


%  Old  Muiical  Airs, 

i.  *  (Part  i.) 

"  You  prety  flowers  that  smile  for  sommers  sake. 

Pull  in  your  heads  before  my  watry  eies 
Doe  turn  the  medows  to.  a  standing  lake, 

By  whose  vntimely  flouds  your  glory  dies: 
For,  lo !  my  hart,  resolu'de  to  moistning  aire. 
Feeding  mine  eies  which  doubles  teare  fpr  teare. 

ij.  (Partii.) 
Now  each  creature  ioyes  the  other. 

Passing  happy  dayes  and  howersj 
One  bird  reports  vnto  another. 

By  the  fall  of  siluer  showers ; 
Whilst  the  earth,  our  conamon  rnother, 

(lath  her  bosome  deckt  with  flowers, 

iij. 

Compare  me  to  the  child  that  playes  wit;h  fire. 

Or  to  the  flye  that  dieth  in  the  flame  j 
Or  to  the  foolish  boy  that  did  aspire. 

To  touch  the  glorie  of  high  heauens  frame : 

*  Alt'vs.  The  First  fet  of  English  Madrigals  i  to  four^  voices : 
Nenulj  composed  by  lohn  Farmer,  practicioner  in  the  art  of  Musicque. 
Printed  at  London  in  Little  Saint  Helens  by  William  Barley,  the  As- 
signe  of  Thomas  Morley,  and  are  to  be  solde  at  kis  shoppe  in  Gratious- 
streete.  Anno  Dom.  1599.  Cum  Priuilegio,  6ff.  Title  in  a  metal 
border:  at  the  back  the  arms  of  the  "  very  good  Lord  and  Master, 
Edward  Devere  Earle  of  Oxenford,  Viscount  Bulbeck,  Lord  of 
Escales  and  Badlesmere,  and  Lord  gre^^t;  Chamberlaine  of  Eng^ 
land,"  to  whom  the  work  is  dedicated,  An  address  to  the  Reader. 
Coi^tains  xvii  Songs. 

■      '  '        '  No 


428 

No  man  to  these  tne  fitly  can  cstfipare. 
These  Hue  to  dye,  I  dye  to  liue  in  care. 


The  flattring  wordes,  sharpe  glosses,  that  men  vie. 

To  trap  poore  silly  women  in  their  snares ; 
With  fained  lookes  their  gentle  sex  abuse. 

Which  yeelds  nought  else  but  gi-iefe  and  endlesse  cares : 
Sometimes  they  smile  and  sometimes  frown. 

But  neuer  pleasde  in  deede. 
Till  time  and  place  where  they  may  watch, 
Their  soriowes  for  to  breede. 


A  little  pretty  bony  lasse  was  walking. 

In  midst  of  May,  before  the  sanne  gan  rise; 
I  took  her  by  the  hand  and  fel  to  talking 
Of  this  and  that  as  best  I  could  deuise: 

I  swor  I  would,  yet  stil  she  said  I  shuld  not  j 
Do  what  1  would  and  yet  for  all  I  could  not. 

vi. 

Take  time,  while  time  doth  last, 
Marke  how  faire  fadeth  fast; 
Beware  if  enuie  raigne. 
Take  heede  of  proud  disdaine : 
Hold  fast  now  in  thy  youth. 
Regard  thy  vowed  truth  ; 
Least  when  thou  waxeth  old. 
Friends  faile,  and  loue  grow  cold. 


Yon  blessed  bowers  whose  green  leaues  now  are  spreading, 
Shadow  the  sun-shine  fro;n  my  mistresse  face; 

And  you  sweete  roses  only  for  her  bedding. 
When  weary  shee  doth  take  her  resting  place  : 

You  faire  white  lillies  and  pretty  flowers  all. 

Give  your  attendance  at  my  mistresse  call. 

viii.  * 
I  wander  vp  and  downe  and  fain  would  rest  me. 


Yet  cannot  rest  such  cares  doe  still  molest  me: 


All 


«  Madrigalls  tofovre  noycej  newly  p'vblished  by  lobn  Bennelf,  kit 
^r:t  ■works.     At  London  Printed  in  little  Saint  Hellms  by  William  kaf^ 


439 

All  things  conspire  I  see,  and  this  consent  in, 
To  find  a  place  for  nae  fit  to  lament  in. 


Come  shepherds  follow  me. 

Run  vp  apace  the  mountaine;  . 

See,  loe  besides  the  fountain, 
Xque  laid  to  rest,  how  sweetely  sleepeth  he: 

O  take  heed  come  not  nie  him. 

But  bast  we  hence  and  flie  him : 

And  louers  dance  with  gladness. 

For  while  loue  sleepes  is  truce  with  care  and  sadnes. 


Sing  out  ye  Nimphes  and  shepheards  of  Pernassus, 
With  sweet  delight  your  merry  notes  consenting, 
Sith  time  affordes  to-  banish  loue  relenting : 

Fortune  she  smiles  sweetly  still  to  grace  vs. 


Thirsis,  sleepest  thou  ?  holla  !  let  not  sorrow  slay  vs. 
Hold  vp  thy  head,  man,  said  the  gentle  Mellbens : 
See  sommer  comes  againe,  the  countries  pride  adorning, 
Harke  how  the  Cuckoe  singeth  this  fayre  Aprill  morning. 
O,  said  the  shepbeard,  and  sight  *  as  one  all  vndone. 
Let  me  alone,  alas !  and  driue  him  back  to  Londpn. 


When  as  I  glaunce  on  my  louely  Phillis, 
Whose  cheekes  are  dekt  wi]h  roses  and  lillies, 
I  me  complain'd  that  shee  me  nought  regarded, 
And  that  my  loue  with  enuie  was  rewarded. 
Then  wantonly  she  smileth, 
And  griefe  from  me  exileth. 


ley,  the  Assigns  of  Thsmas  Morley.  Cum  Priuilegio.  M.D.XC.IX, 
Jltvi.  Title  in  a  fancied  metal  border.  Dedicated  to  Ralphe 
Asheton,  Esq.  Justice  of  the  Peace,  &c..  for  the  County  Palatine 
Cjf  Lancaster,  who  is  besought  "  fauourablie  to  accept  them,  as 
the  indeauors  of  a  yong  wit,  and  tokens  of  a  thankfull  mind." 
Contains  xvii  Songs- 

*  Sigh'd, 

dii. 


43-^ 

siil. 
O  sleepe,  O  sleepe  fond  fancie  !  my  head,  alas!  thou  tyjfest, 
With  falsfc  delight  of  that  which  thou  desirest :  [lesting, 

Sleepe,  sleepe,  I  say,  fond  fancie!  and  leaue  my  thoughts  mo- 
Thy  master's  head  hath  need  of  sleepe  and  resting. 

xiv. 
O  griefe,  where  shall  poore  griefe  find  patient  hearing  ? 
Footsteps  of  men  I  flie,  my  pathes.each  creature  balking, 
"Wild  and  vnhaunted  woods  seeme  tired  with  my  walking: 
Earth  with  my  teares  are  drunke,  aire  with  ray  sighes  tor- 
mented, 
Heauens  with  my  crying  growne  deaf  and  discontented. 
Infernall  eares  affrighted  with  my  dolefull  accenting, 
Onely  my  loue  lou's  my  lamenting. 


Rest  now,  Amphion,  rest  thy  charming  lier! 

For  Daphnes  loue,  sweet  loue!  makes  melody: 
Her  loue's  concord  with  mine  doth  well  conspire. 

No  discord  iars  in  our  loues  simpathy. 
Our  concords  haue  some  discords  mixt  among. 
Discording  concords  makes  the  sweetest  song." 

J.H. 


^  The  Spaniards  Monarchie,  and  Leagvers  Olygarchie 
Idyd  open  in  an  advertisement  written  by  Signor  Vhsco 
Figveiro  a  gentleman  of' For tingale  to  the  rebellious 
French :  wherein  is  discouered  the  tyrannic  of  the 
one  ouer  the  kingdome  ofPortingale,  and  the  treache- 
ous  rebellion  of  the  other  in  the  kingdome  of  France, 
tuith  a  patheticall  persuasion  to  the  French  to  returns 
to  the  obedience  of  their  naturall  and  legitimate  king. 
Fnglished  by  H.  0.  Prceiudicium  sape  tollit  omne 
indicium.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Richard  Field 
for  Ikon  Harrison.  1593.  qto.  F  iiij. 

Prefixed  is  a  short  address  "  to  the  gentlemen  readers," 
wherein  a  passage  appears  to  contain  the  origin  of  a  popular 
phrase,  that  may  be  worth  notice.  ".It  is  no  teather  of  fancie, 
(says  the  translator)  for  that  I  accompt  it  base  to  fetch  such 

lieht 


431 

light  marchandise  so  tarre  as  Valentia.  It  you  expeci  extra - 
ordinarie  elegancie,  1  answer,  that  a  translator  is  bound  rather 
to  search  fit  words  to  expresse  his  authors  meaning,  then  inueiit 
word^  running  on  the  letter  to  content  ouer  curious  fancies, 
which  I  contetnne  as  dictionarie  nnethod,  and  thus  much  can  I 
assure  you  that  albeit  it  hath  no  title  fetched  from  the  Bull 
within  bishopsgate,  as  a  figge  for  a  Spaniard,  *  yet  doth  it  dis- 
couer  so  succinctly  and  briefly,  a  Spanish  imitatio"  of  Machia- 
uellized  axioms,  that  what  other  volumes  at  large,  this  in  a 
leafe  doth  plainely  demonstrate.  If  any  obiect  that  this  trea- 
tise seruetii  for  fiench  men,  and  not  appertinent  to  vs:  I 
answer  that  their  wit  reacheth  n'o  further  then  their  owne 
home.  For  is  not  our  iland  the  marke  that  Piiilip's  ambitious 
humour  especially  aimeth  at?  hath  he  not  sent  his  inuincibl« 
Armada,  to  make  a  conquest  of  our  vliima  insula?  &c." 

*  * 


%  The  Poets'  Blind  mans  lough,  or  Have  among  you 
my  blind  Harpers':  being  A  pretty  medicine  to  cure 
the  Dimme,  Double,  Envious,  Partial!,  and  Diaboli- 
call  eyesight  and  ludgement  of  those  Dogmatically 
Schismaticall,  Aenigmaticall,  and  nou  Giamaticall 
Authors  who  Lycentiously,  without  eylher  Name 
Lycence,  Wit  or  Charity,  have  raylinghj ,falselv ^  and, 
foolishly  written  a  numerous  rable  of  pesteferous 
Pamphelets  in  this- present  (and  the  precedent  yeare, 
justly  observed  and  charitably  cejisured,  By  Marline 
Parker.  Printed  at  London  by  F.  Leach,  for  Henry 
Marsh,  and  are  to  bee  sold  at  his  shop  over  aaainst 
the  golden  Lyon  Taverne  in  Princes  street,  164.1. 
qto.  8  leaves. 

''  To  the  trvly  ivdiciovs  impartiall  charitable,  and  im- 
preivdicated  Christian  Reader  of  what  quality,  age  or  sex 
soever^  the  Authour  dedicates  his  poore  endevors,  and 
referrs  himselfe  with  the  same:"  is  the  head-title  to  a 
poem  of  eighteen  lines,  prefixed.    Therein  he  declares  the 

•  It  seems  therefore  probable  this  phrase  was  first  introduced 
at  the  Red  Bull  Theatre,  immediately  a.fter  the  defeat  of  the  in- 
vasion. 

work 


43« 

work  intended  to  vindicate  himself  and  "  lyers  to  shame," 
who  have  filled  "countrey,  citie,  court  and  campe,  with 
lybells  voyd  of  reason ;"  concluding 

"  Still  I  hope  good  men  will  contented  be. 
With  what  is  publish'd  by  (abus'd)  M.  P. 
Who  never  wrot  but  in  the  inst  defence 
Of's  King  and  countrey ;  now's  owne  innocence.'' 

Of  the  author,  Martin  Parker,  the  few  scattered  notices 
have  been  gathered  by  Mr.  Paric  in  another  place.* 
The  present  vindicatory  poem  seems  the  result  of  re- 
peated attacks  by  writers,  whose  local  productions  lie 
buried  in  the  incongruous  mass  that  issued  from  the  press 
between  1640  and  1650 :  a  mass  that  might  occupy  the 
life  of  a  determined  pioneer  of  literature  to  present  a 
brief  analysis  of,  and  which  has  little  to  interest  beyond 
personal  scurrility  on  the  one  side,  and  the  glosing  argu- 
ments of  the  supporters  of  a  commonwealth  on  the 
other.  Parker,  whose  pretensions  as  a  poet  are  little 
above  mediocrity,  contrives  to  introduce  himself  with 
precedence  of  the  most  esteemed  favourites  of  the  muse. 
He  tells  the  nameless  authors  of  slanderous  Pasquils, 
though  he  might  with  "  lambean  rimes  ironicall"  make 
ropes  to  hang  them,  yet  his  cruelty  is  not  such,  and  he 
takes  their  abuses  as  jest,  giving  such  ideots  leave  to 
write  as  eagles  only  take  slight  notice  of  crows.  He 
says, 

"  my  desire  and  whole  intent  is  that. 

Your  folly  being  iu  generall  aimed  at; 

Each  on[e]  may  take  his  sliare  of  shame  and  say. 

In  doing  this  I  have  not  shewed  faire  play  : 

For  what  is  either  more  or  tesse  set  forth 

'Gainst  persons  in  particular;  what  worth 

Or  fame  among  the  vulgar  it  may  win 

Without  the  author's  name,  't  hath  ever  bin 

Keld  as  a  lybell  both  in  law  and  sf.nce; 

Then  he  who  writes  (what  e're  be  his  pretence) 

His  name  should  iustifie  what  he  hath  done: 

This  maxim  I  have  alwaies  thought  upon  : 

•  Cemura  Literaria,  Vol.  VII.  p.  53.  His  works  are  introduceii 
\>y  Humphrey  Mill,  in  the  second  part  of  the  Night  Search,  164.6, 
in  a  catalogue  of  things  seized  of  a  punk. 

"  A  hioxe  of  salve,  and  two  brasse  rings; 

With  Parker's  workes,  and  such  like  things." 

Whatever 


4^5 

Whatever  yet  was  published  by  mee. 

Was  knowne  by  Marltn  Parker,  or  M.  P. 

All  poets  (as  adition  to  their  fannes) 

Have  by  their  works  eternized  their  names. 

As  Chaucer,  Spencer,  and  that  noble  earle 

Of  Surrie,  thought  it  the  most  precious  pearle 

That  dick'd  his  honour,  to  subscribe  to  what 

His  higli  engenue  euer  amed  at : 

Sydney  and  Shakspire,  Drayton,  Withers  arid 

llenowned  lonson  glory  of  our  land : 

Deker,  learn'd  Chapman,  Haywood,  jj,  thought  gdod.,.  - 

To  have  their  names  in  publiKe  understood; 

And  that  sweet  seraph  of  our  nation,  Quarles, 

(In  spight  of  each  planatick  cur  that  snarles) 

Subscribes  to  his  cele.stiall  harmony. 

While  angels  chant  his  dulcid  melodie. 

And  honest  lohn  from  the  water  to  the  land 

Makes  us  all  know  and  honcJtir  him  by's  hand;  * 

And 

*  In  Mr.  Park's  list  of  "  honest  lohn"  Taylor's  pieces,  (Cens. 
Lit.  Vol.  VI.  p.  37j)  the  following  is  inserted  as  No.  67. 

'the  Irish  footman's  Poetry  or  George  the  Rtinner,  against  Henry  the 
Walker,  in  defence  of  lohn  the  Sivimmer.  Being  a  sur-rejoinder  to 
the  rejoinder  of  the  rusty  Ironmonger,  ivho  endea-vpured  to  defile  the 
cleare  streames  of  the  Water-foets''  Helicon.  The  author  George  Ri- 
chardson, an  Hibernian  Pedestrian.  Printed  in  the  yeare  16+1.  qtp. 
six  leaves.  This  was  ushered  forth  with  three  commendations 
from  "  currant"  friends  H.  F.  W.  B.  and  T.  L.  L.  Then 
"  George  Richardson  the  authour  to  the  most  ingenious  aqua- 
tique  poet,  Mr.  John  Taylor. 

"  Sir,  though  a  stranger  to  your  selfe,  your  worth 
Is  knowne  to  me,  by  What  you  have  set  forth; 
And  though  I  cannot  judge,  yet  I  admire 
The  lively  flames  of  your  Phasbean  firej 
Which  wise  men  doe  approve,  none  doe  deprave 
But  such  as  know  not  fancy,  as  this' slave; 
Rusty,  as  his  old  iron;  dull  as  stone. 
Or  th'  anvill  that  his  ware  is  wrought  upon. 
Wh<j  stupid  slave  (by  whathee  never  writ 
But  bought  for's  money)  your  undoubted  wit. 
Would  call  in  question :  Sir,  my  infant  muse 
(Seeing  this  slave  persist  in  his  abuse ;    • 
And  knowing,  'twould  a  great  dishonour  bee 
For  you  to  match  your  ingenuity 
With  his  notorious  folly,)  speedily 
Did  uridertake  to  make  a  swift  reply. 
Which  (soone  as  ray  employment  did  allow 
Mee  time)  in  two  houres  space,  I  did  run  through." 

VOL.   II.  F    F  It 


434 

And  many  more  whose  names  I  should  have  told 
In  their  due  place,  in  famous  record  inrould  : 
Have  thought  it  honest  honour  to  set  downe 
Their  names  or  letters  to  what  is  theire  owne." 

He  ridiculesj  as  a  liar,  the  inventor  of  a  strange  plot 
that  was  to  give  Archbishop  Lawd  "  his  free  telaxation 
out  of  the  Tower  by  necromantick  spells ;"  and  condemns 
the  senseless  libel  on  that  prelate  "  Mercuries  Message, 
named.^'     These  appear  to  have  been  the  production  of 


It  contsilns  a  ridicule  of  Walker's  book  ;  his  view  of  the  trans- 
formed divell,  pedigree,  arms,  disposition,  religion,  hypocrisy, 
lies,  &c.  concluding 

"  And  now  friend  Walker  this,  but  to  prepare. 
My  muse  to  encounter,  if  you  dare. 
With  a  foote-poet,  enter  in  the  saijd. 
You,  as  you  have  lost  by  water  may  by  land." 
A  postscript  declares  the  author  though  born  and  bred  in  Ire- 
land, of  England's  church,  and  against  Brownists  and  Popery* 

If  the  above  was  by  the  Waterman  he  must  have  followed  the 
anonymous  system,  as  well  as  Parker's  antagonist,  and  that  at  the 
period  when  he  was  considered  an  authority  in  favour  of  avowed 
productions.  I  shall  add  one  of  Taylor's  works,  where  an  allusion 
jn  the  title  bears  a  fair  claim  to  notice  in  our  pages. 

Differing  ffcrships,  or  the  Oddes,  betiueene  some  Knights  service  and 
God's.  Or  Tom  Nash  his  ghost,  (the  old  Martin  queller)  neivly  roused, 
and  is  come  to  chide  and  take  order  tvith  Nonconformists,  Schismatiques, 
Separatists,  and  scandahns  Libellers.  Wherein  their  abusive  opinions 
are  manifested,  their  jeer es  mildly  retorted,  and  their  unmannerly  man- 
ners admonished.  By  John  Taylor.  London,  Printed  for  miliam  Ley, 
and  are  to  he  sold  at  his  shop  neere  Pauls  chaine.  1640.  qto.  lyleaves. 
A  poetical  address  to  the  reader  is  signed  "  I.  T.  Poeta  Aquati- 
tus."  The  poem  is  rich  with  scriptural  references,  and  on  a  leaf 
appended  is 

"  Z.'  envoy,  or  Postscript. 
"  From  wrong  of  my  King,  from  state  reviling. 
From  libels  writing  or  in  print  compiling: 
From  troulslingof  my  coxcombe  braines,  ormazzard, 
From  putting  my  estate  or  eares  in  hazzard ; 
From  seeking  things  that  are  beyond  my  reach  j 
From  dreaming  I  could  all  the  clergie  teach  j 
From  pride,  vain-glory,  and  hypocrisie. 
From  striving  to  obtains  a  pillory. 
And  from  deserving  of  the  triple  tree, 
Good  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  deliver  mci" 

the 


43^. 

the  s^me  writer,  whose  name  is  aftemards  given  in  the 
margin  as  John  Thomas.  Truth,  zeal,  pr  charity,  are  with- 
out effect, as  the  "brother  here  vituperates  the  brother:" 
and  our  author 

— — 'bove  all  the  rest  hath  wronged  beene, 
Tasting  the  bitter  gall  of  hellish  spleene, 
"Which  these  malignant  serpents  could  eiect 
To  make  the  world  bis  innocence  suspect. 
In  diverse  pamphlets,  what  e're  currish  barker. 
The  authour  was,  he  snarl'd  at  Martin  Parter,  * 
Nor  Borealist  by  some  brother  pen['d,] 
Yet  father'd  on  a  sect  to  this  end. 
To  bring  me  in  disgrace ;  as  though  I  had. 
Bin  punisht  heretofore  for  writing  bad. 
Calling  me  th'  prelats  poet  and  such  tearmes. 
Which  nothing  but  his  spigiit  at  all  confirmes, 
t'or  I  ne're  wrot  ith'  Bishops  cause  so  much, 
As  now  I  have  on  this  occasion  touch  f 
Another  foolish  idle  defamation 
That  is  intitl'd  the  Popish  proclamation. 
The  unnam'd  authour  (as  in  all  a  raylor) 
Occasion  takes  to  abuse  me  and  lohn  Taylor,  J 
With  Herbert, *|  but  wherefore  I  cannot  tell. 
Nor  he  himselfe  that  wrote  it  very  well." 

He 

*  Sic. 

^  Some  account  of  the  rox  Borealist,  or  the  Northern  Discovery, 
here  alluded  to,  was  given  in  the  Cem.  Lit.  Vol.  VI.  p.  157.  The 
whole  tract  is  inserted  in  the  Harkian  Miscellany,  Vol.  III.  p.  228, 
ed.  1 809, 

J  The  names  of  Parker  and  Taylor  were  long  afterwards  coupled 
together.     See  Cens.  Lit.  Vol.  VII.  p.  39. 

§  One  of  Herbert's  pieces  at  this  period  is  entituled  Secunda 
'VOX  populi.  Or  the  Commons  gratitude  io  the  most  honorable  Philif, 
Earle  of  Pembroke  and  Montgomery',  for  the  great  affection  'which  hee 
alnvaies  bore  unto  them.  If  ith  sonie  'verses  ufon  his  Lordship's  election 
of  Chancellor  of  the  Uni'versity  of  Oxford.  By  William  Cartivright. 
[An  elegant  wood-cut  ot  the  whole  length  of  the  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke, dressed  in  full  robes  of  office:  on  a  ribband  "  My  reiuard 
is  from  aboue  ,'\  Printed  in  the  yeai"/  i6i.j.  qto^  4  leaves. 

Dedicated  in  verse  to  the  Earl,  enuttieraling  all  his  heraldic  and 
courtly  honours,  telling  him  that  he  never  deserved  "  the  least 
Wame,"  and  subscribed,  Thomas  Herbert.  The  lines  by  Cart- 
wright,  are  inserted  without  material  variation  in  his  poems,  p. 
552.  The  author's  address  of  gratitude  is  moulded  by  the  fashioa 
F  F  2  of 


43^ 

He  accounts  such  "  baregarden  sluffc,"  cannot  prove 
slander,  although  the  lad  who  writes  puts  his  name  to  it. 
A  short  postscript  against  the  diurnals,  finishes  with 

"  I  have  but  broke  the  ice,  some  coadiuters 
Win  help  to  scourge  these  paper-persecuters." 

J.  H. 


^  HistorieofTilana  andThesevs.  Fery  pleasant  for 
age  to  avoide  drowsie  thoughts:  profitable  for  youth 
to  avoide  want07i  pastimes:  so  that  to  loth  it  brings 
the  minds  content.     Written  by  W.  Bettie.     London, 

•  printed  for  Robert  Bird,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop 
in  St.  Laurence  Lane,  at  the  signe  of  the  Bible. 
1636.  qto'.  sig.  G  2.   b.  1. 

This  has  all  the  guise  and  manner  in  title,  compo- 
sition, and  printing,  to  have  appeared  near  half  a  century 
earlier.  The  dedication  is  addressed  "  to  the  vvorship- 
full  Hvmphrie  Conisbye,"  whose  kindness  is  presumed 
upon  to  present  the  frowns  of  fortune,  rudely  and  roughly 
polished;  beseeching  him  to  shroud  the  imperfect  pam- 
phlet under  his  patronage,  as  his  karned.  education  and 

of  the  times,  when  idle  conceits  and  dull  facts  were  ushered  forth 
as  poetry.     A  few  lines  will  suffice : 

"  The  Commons  voyce  itselfe  will  thus  expresse,- 
In  the  brave  Herbert  lies  our  happinesse  : 
Thou  art  that  Hermes  usher  to  the  sunne, 
Thou  art  his  gardiant  when  the  day  is  done  : 
You  are  a  plague  to  papist,  friend  to  those, 
Who  unto  base  Antichrist  are  sworn  foes. 
The  Pope  doth  tremble  at  our  Herbert's  name. 
The  Turks  and  Soldan  tell  your  spreading  fame. 
Let  us  rejoyce  and  lo  sing  as  loud 
As  thunder  shot  from  a  divided  cloud. 
Our  King's  the  sun  within  our  horoscope, 
A  terrour  to  the  devill  and  the  Pope ; 
Our  nobles  are  those  fixt  stars  which  do  shine 
In  their  due  place  erxh  man  in  his  own  line. 
Those  who  have  striv'd  t'  usurpe  our  great  Jove's  throne. 
My  joy's  so  great,  for  them  I  cannot  mourn. 
Brave  Pembroke  hath  so  fill'd  our  hearts  with  ioy. 
The  Commons  cry  this  is  the  pride  of  Troy." 

virtuous 


437 

virtuous  disposition  would  be  sufficient  defence  sfgaiiist 
the  envious  tongues  of  the  scorning  sycophants. 

Theseus  appears  to  be  the  son  of  ^geus,  King  of 
Athens,  and  Titana,  the  daughter  of  Meleager,  King  of 
Calidon.  Their  early  loves,  with  all  the  wooing  thereof 
I  must  pass  over.  The  negligent  gatherer  has  omitted 
three  sheets  out  of  this  thin  tract.  For  some  reason  they 
take  ship  to  pass  from  Greece  to  Spain,  are  attacked  and 
conquered  by  pirates,  who,  rather  unusual  in  the  pages 
of  romance,  ungallantly  set  the  lady  on  shor^  in  France, 
and  bear  the  enamoured  prince  away,  who  thereby  be- 
comes chained  to  the  oar.  During  a  pilgrimage  of  four 
years  by  the  lady,  the  lover  obtains  his  release,  and  is  en- 
tertained by  and  esteemed  the  confidential  servant  of  the 
Landsgrave  of  Hessen,  who  resides  at  Fuesen.  The 
proffered  illicit  passion  of  Impio  being  refused,  she  re- 
vengefully determines  to  ruin  the  favourite  by  a  false  accu- 
sation of  his  attempting  violence;  a  crime  so  heinous  in 
the  eye  of  the  law,  that  he  is  condemned  and  bound  to 
the  stake  to  suffer  death.  Here,  as  usual,  commences  the 
disclosure  to  reward  innocence  and  bring  the  vicious  cha- 
racter to  ignominy.  A  Knight  of  Athens,  on  his  travels, 
discovers  thePrince  at  the  stake,  and  proclaims  his  birth  j 
the  accuser  is  re-examined,  and  Impio  strangles  herself 
with  a  towel.  Titana,  at  this  period,  was  governess  to 
the  children  of  the  high  constable  of  Fuesen,  and  the 
finding  the  Prince  of  Greece  being  bruited  about; 

"■  In  the  end  it  came  to  Titana's  eare,  who  was  halfe  per- 
«waded_  it  was  her  Theseus:  well  she  could  not  be  quiet  in 
mind  till  she  saw  him :  the  next  day  she  made  an  excuse  to 
go  forth  &  goe  te  the  Emperors  court,  &  as  she  was  entring 
y*  court  gates  she  met  her  Theseus,  yet  not  knowing  him  di- 
rectly, but  stood  stil  &  look'd.  on  him,  &  he  did  the  like  on 
her,  til  at  last  Theseus  said,  Titana ;  when  she  heard  him  say 
so  she  stept  to  him,  and  wiih  icy  she  wept,  and  the  like  did 
he,  like  two  turtle  doues,  they  sweetly  bild  each  other,  when 
they  had  thus  don,  they  made  it  knowne  to  the  Emperor — " 

The  wanderers  return  to  Athens;  reign  over  three 
kingdoms,  and  "  Titana  and  Theseus  ended  their  dales 
in  quiet  rest.    Finis."  *  * 

F  F  3  i>e 


438 

^  De  Fastis  Anglkh,  iive  Calendarium  Sacrum:  Ike 
Holy  Calendar,  being  a  treble  series  of  Epigrarns 
upon  all  the  Feasts  observed  by  the  Church  of  England; 
to  which  is  added  the  like  number  of  Epigrams  upon 
some  other  more  especiall  daies,  which  have  either  their 
footsteps  in  Scriptvre,  or  are  more  remarkeable  in  this 
kingdome.  Composed  by  Nathaniel  Eaton,  Doctor  of 
Philosophy,  and  medicine,  and  Vicar  of  Bishops 
Castle  in  the  County  of  Salop.  London,  printed  by 
H.  L.  and  are  to  be  sold  at  Kings  Colledge  in  Puddle- 
dock,  1661.  lamo.  pp.  80, 

To  his  dread  Sovereign  Charles  TI.  the  auihor,  "upon 
the  knees  of  his  soul,  most  humbly  dedicates  himself, 
and  these  poor  fruits  of  his  vacant  hours:"  which  might 
have  served  to  garnish  out  the  columns  of  Partridge's  or 
More's  Almanack,  with  orthodox  piety,  as  will  be  seen 
by  one  of  the  epigrams  on  Whitsunday. 

"  You  that  despise  all  humane  helps  whereby 
Men  are  prepared  for  the  ministry. 
And  boast  you  have  the  spirit  enabling  you. 
Better  then  all  their  books  and  arts  can  do; 
Be  not  deceiv'dj  fond  men,  'tis  more  to  be 
Fitted  for  such  a  work  then  you  can  see. 
Those  whom  the  Holy  Ghost  doth  thus  inspire. 
He  comes  to  them  in  tongues  as  well  as  fire; 
Show  us  but  them  and  wee'll  allow  your  call. 
If  not  we  heed  not  your  vain  brags  at  all," 


*  * 


%  Philotimus.  The  Warre  betwixt  Nature  and  For- 
tune. Compiled  by  Brian  Melbancke  Student  in 
Graies  Inne.  Palladi  Fortuna  virtutis  famula. 
Imprinted  at  London  by  Roger  Warde,  dwelling  neere 
vnto  Holborne  Conduit  at  the  signe  of  the  TTalbot. 
1583.  Col.  At  London  Imprinted  by  Roger  Warde, 
dwelling  nere  Holburne  Conduit  at  the  signe  of  the 
Talbot,  and  are  there  to  be  solde.  1583.  qto.  pp.  326, 
and  introduction  four  leaves. 

This  uncommonly  rare  work  is  a  close  imitation  of 
Lilly's  Euphues,  and  it  seems  probable  the  two  authors 
-were  fellowr  collegians.     Such  compositions  having  be- 
come 


439 

come  fashionable,  we  find  the  author  in  his  dedicatory 
address  to  "  Phillip  Earle  of  Arundell,"  telling  him, 

"  Had  Philotimvs  bene  serued  in  at  the  first  course,  when 
your  stomacke  was  not  quaUed  with  other  daintier  fare,  his 
relishe  perhaps  had  beenesomr-tfeing  loothsome:  but  since  you 
are  cloied  with  more  delicate  cates  thus  farre  not  withstanding, 
J  dare  presume  to  bring  hira  in  lor  a  show  among  other  ban- 
queting dishes. . . .  The  morning,  is  meete  for  grauer  studies,  the 
post  meridian  for  pleasaunt  solace,  so  tliat,  Piiilotimvs  which 
commeth  in  limping  at  the  latter  end  of  the  day  though  he  be 
no  author  for  knowledge  of  importar.ce,  yet  may  some  refection 

by  reading  histories,  lend  recreation  to  your  weavied  muses 

1  am  not  ignorant  that  there,  be  some,  who  wil  I  be  as  free  of  a 
good  word  to  Philotimus,  as  a  poorc  man  is  of  his  haruest: 
who,  for  that  they  hate  me  vnaduisedly  will  indiscreetly  beat 
my  dog:  &  because  they  -enuy  Melbancke  with  a  peasantly 
despite,  will  dispraise  all  his  doings,  thongh  they  be  for  their 

profit Wishing  your  Lordship  as  many  prosperous  yeares 

as  vertuous  properties,  and  no  fewer  vertues  then  the  sea  hath 
sandes,  and  commending  both  me  and  mine  to  your  honourable 
protection,  I  humbly  lake  my  leaue  this  28  of  Nouember. 
Your  Lordships  most  duetifuU  to  commaund.  Brian  Mel- 
bancke." 

Lilly  has  an  address  to  the  gentlemen  schollarsofOxford, 
which,  probably,  occasioned  the  following,  being  partly 
inscribed  to  the  other  university. 

"  To  the  VVorshipfvl  and  my  very  frends,  the  gentlemeri 
Students,  in  the  Innes  of  Court  and  Chauncerie,  and  the  vni- 
uersitie  of  Cambridge. — The  worthines.  Gentlemen,  of  your 
demerits,  and  the  dayly  benefite  of  your  friendly  curtesies,  in- 
cite me  to  proffer  you  my  simple  seruice,  and  humbly  to  en- 
treat you  to  vouchsafe  it  acceptance.  I  heartily  wish  (Gen-' 
tlemen)  that  Phylotimus  had  the  propertie  of  the  tree  Coccus 
wich  beareth  ten  sundry  commodities  all  at  once :  or  that  it 
resembled  the  hearb  Pauemu,  whose  emeralds  glosse  refresheth 
the  sight,  whose  violets  sauour  delighteth  the  smell,  whose 
soueraigne  iuyce  doth  comfort  the  hart  in  most  dumpish  fits  of 
direful  malancholie:  or  that  ech  of  you  here  in  my  little  gar- 
den, might  gather  a  poesie  of-  the  three  Phaenick  flowers, 
inyrth,  money,  and  melody,  the  worst  whereof  may  serue  to 
decke  a  princes  garland.  But  alasse  poore  toy  (if  pitty  might 
preuaile)it  rather  representeth  grateful!  Thelies  thankfulnesse, 
then  presumes  to  present  you  with  glozing  Tullies  eloquence 
and  more  stibmissiuelie  craues  pardon  for  this  too  audacious 
p  F  4  enterprise^ 


440 

enterprise,  then  loftily  lookes.  for  praise  for  an  vndeserulng 
trauaile.  Yet  brasse  is  good  goulde  in  a  brasiers  8hop>  pottage 
daintty  fare  at  a  poore  man's  feast,  and  murrye  sweete  beauty 
in  a  biackamoore's  face :  and  therefore  1  hope  hautity,  that  if 
I  inuite  you  to  my  homely  banquet  (where  you  shall  haiie 
single  fare  for  double  cost)  you  will  not  thanke  me  so  ironeously 
as  Socrates  on  a  time  did  a  poore  honest  man,  who  bad  him 
for  good  will  to  his  best  though  bare  supper,  I  pray  thee, 
quoth  he,  who  made  vs  so  familiar  that  thou  shouldest  thus 
saucily  incroch  vpon  my  curtesie,  to  inuite  me  so  vnmanperly 
to  a  needy  beeuer  ? 

*'  1  haue  beene  pregnant,  as  once  was  Valcntia,  almost 
double  the  time  of  a  woraans  account,  and  now  at  my  child 
byrthj  wiih  the  same  Valentin,  I  am  brought  to  bed  of  an  halfe- 
shaped  monster.  I  graunt  that  for  want  of  plenarrity  this 
time  of  vacation,  I  am  worthelye  falne  into  your  lappes,  so 
that  you  may  lawfully  refuse  to  admit  me  to  your  fauour,  and 
gibe  the  bgnefite  of  your  friendship  to  some  more  meritorious. 
Credite  me.  Gentlemen,  J  knowe  not  by  what  haps  (mishaps 
I  shoulde  say)  Phylotimus  hath  beene  longer  in  publishing 
then  in  compiling,  and  lesse  time  in  penning  then  in  printing: 
wherin  he  is  not  vnlike  all  maimer  of  fruits,  which  attein  not 
maturity  so  sooncas  they  bud,  neither  are  alwayes  reaped  when 
they  are  ripe:  or  rather  akin  to  the  beares  confused  brood, 
which  she  is  longer  a  framing  to  a  perfect  shape,  then  she  is 
|n  conceiuing  and  producing. 

"  Well  (Gentlemen)  now  you  haue  it,  glue  it  a  welcome, 
read.it  with  iudgement,  (as  I  know  you  can)  peruse  it  with 
pacience  (as  I  hope  you  will)  &  mind  as  you  find  I  require  no 
more.  I  know  that  ventrous  Will  doth  neuer  saile  surely, 
where  practised  skill  doth  not  holde  the  helme,  and  that  brain- 
sick youth  doth  neuer  raigne  wel .  where  setled  age  doth  not 
bear  the  bridle,  and  that  it  is  more  meete  for  my  vnmellowed 
yeeres  fo.be  imploicd  in  the  studie  of  phylosophicall  axiomes, 
then  take  vpon  them  to  instruct  others  in  literature.  Yet  haue 
I  tried  that  the  yongcst  pullet  is  both  toothsome  andwholsom, 
and  that  the  timeliest  haruest  makes  the  best  bread :  now  a 
dayes  that  parrat  is  very  yong  that  will  not  prattle,  and  that 
cock  very  bad  that  crowes  not  till  his  age:  the  yong  cat  cries 
mew  as  well  as  the  old  one,  and  youthfull  Aristippus  will  be 
regardaiit  to  phylosophy  as  well  as  old  Plato  is  a  professor  of 
wisdom;  if  June  yeelde  flowers,  Maie  wil  yeeld  cherries,  jf 
there  be  blossoms  in  the  spring  there  will  be  fruite  in  autumne, 
and  amorous  Plato  in  his  adolescencie  is  a  graue  phylosopher 
m  elder  yeeres,  For  the  excuse  of  my  obscviritie,  wherewith  I 
<  haue 


441 

baue  endarkened  my  style,  I  aunswere,  that  I  am  not  of  Perils 
ius  his  minde,  that  thought  himselfe  a  glorious  orator,  if  hee 
were  plausible  to  the  popular  sort :  I  would  rather  imitate  our 
master  Arist,  who  writ  his  physicks  in  so  intricate  a  style,  be- 
cause he  woulde  not  vouchsafe  euery  refuse  Coridon  the  im- 
parture  of  his  mvsterie :  and  I  .doubt  not  but  amongst  you 
(Gentlemen)  I  shall  finde  more  of  Oedipus  his  line,  then  of 
Davus  his  lignage,  more  that  assaile  a  doubtful  ambiguitie  with 
their  learned  resolutions  then  wil  inuert  a  good  meaning  which 
they  pannot  amend,  and  turne  that  to  gcofEng,  which  was  made 
for  no  skoggins.  If  I  haue  vsed  any  rare  and  obsolete  words, 
they  arp  pyther  such  as  t!  e  Coryphees  of  our  English  writers, 
Chaucer  and  Lidgate,  haue  vsed  before  me,  and  now  are  de- 
cayed for  want  of  practise  :  or  else  such  as  by  an  apt  translation 
out  of  theGreekes  and  Latins  (which  Crassus  inTuUies  bookes 
de  Oratore  allowes  for  lawful!)  are  fitly  contriued  into  our 
English  language.  For  that  I  haue  not  kept  one  vniforme 
maner  of  style  (much  like  the  Queeiies  mules  that  neuer 
chaunge  pace)  I  think  that  I  am  no  more  tied  to  one  order  of 
writing  in  the  vniuersal  tractation  of  my  treatise,  then  a 
gardener  is  bound  but  to  sow  one  sort  of  seedes  in  a  great  plot 
of  his  garden  ground.  He  (sayth  Hermogenes)  that  adornes 
his  whole  oration  with  no  other  trope,  but  a  sweet  subiection 
or  an  anoniination,  may  be  thovght  a  trim  man  in  the  ears  of 
the  multitude,  but  in  the  judgement  of  the  elegant  orators,  he 
shall  be  known  as  rude  in  his  art  of  rhetorick  as  the  butcher 
that  scalded  the  calfe,  was  in  his  craft  of  butchery. 

"  Good  Gentlemen,  pardon  the  faults  that  are  passed  in 
printing,  omit  the  escapes  that  are  committed  by  my  negli- 
gence, and  make  that  wel  in  woorth,  which  I  wish  were  more 
then  wtl.  It  may  be.  Gentlemen,  that  my  English  tables  of 
all  Arist.  workes  (which  some  of  you  haue  too  long  expected) 
shall  shortly  make  you  amends. '  Although  all  of  you  know 
that  my  kingdome  neuer  consisted  in  the  English  tongue,  but 
if  eue'r  I  had  any  thing  wherein  to  vaunt  (as  God  knows  I  had 
nothing)  it  was  some  small  skill  in  other  languages.  Thus 
not  doubting  but  you  Gentlemen  of  Cambridge  will  giue  Pbi- 
lotimus  friendly  entertainment,  for  that  Melbanck  his  master 
was  sometime  a  schoUer  amongst  you  (with  what  credite  I 
know  not,  but  sure  I  am  in  more  then  euer  he  deserued,  and 
in  such  as  for  the  loue  he  beares  you,  he  neuer  intends  quite 
to  forsake  you)  and  that  you  Gentlemen  of  the  Innes  of  Court 
will  fauourably  censure  of  Philotimus,  because  I  may  ere  I  die 
be  a  soliciter  in  your  law,  I  humbly  take  my  leaue  this  23  of 
Noueraber.     Yours  as  your  owne  to  vse.    Brian  Melbancke." 

Here 


443 

Here  some  verses,  by  George  Wastnes,  Esq.  describe 
the  author  "  a  mirrour  of  a  man"  of  "  learning  rare," 
and,  with  nursery  fondness,  calls  him  "  my  sugred  dar- 
ling boy." 

,  The  history  of  Philotimus  is  laid  in  Italy,  and  intro- 
duced with  "an  interlocution  of  two  distressed  wightes, 
whereof  the  one  more  hardy,  harteneth  his  fellow  :"  these 
are  Pandolpho  and  Periander.  The  former  undertakes 
to  describe  the  froward  fortune  of  Philotimus  and  bitter 
debate  betwixt  Good  Nature  and  Daaie  Fortune.  It  is 
founded  upon  love,  as  nature;  and  the  war  with  fortune, 
forms  the  thread  of  the  story,  which,  though  voluminous 
in  the  detail,  is  shallow  of  adventure.  The  hero  is  thus 
introduced. 

"  Of  all  this  their  ioyfull  progeny,  their  first  begotten  sonne, 
named  Philotimus,  did  both  in  feature  of  body,  sharpnesse  of 
wit  and  towardnes  of  mind,  excell  the  rest.  In  so  much,  that 
as  when  lupiter  &  luno  were  at  contention,  whether  man  or 
woman,  were  more  prone  to  lechery,  they  elected  Tyresias, 
by  whose  arbitriment  they  would  be  determined,  bycause  he 
had  bene  both  manne  and  woman;  so  if  there  were  a  contro- 
uersie  which  of  the  gods  were  moste  worthy  wonder  in  their 
excellente  workes,  I  think  none  more  indifferent  to  decide  the 
matter,  then  this  yong  gentleman :  in  whose  courtly  com- 
plexion (so  sweete  was  Philotemus)  and  curteous  conditions 
(swete  louely  Philotimus)  the  expresse  images  of  their  heauenlye 
deities  were  so  liuely  portrayed.  And  yet  if  Philotimus  shoulde 
giue  his  censure,  which  of  their  powers  he  thought  most 
puissantj  though  he  haue  felt  their  mighty  operations,  and  so 
might  iudge :  yet  doe  1  weene  his  best  resolution  would  onely 
be  silence.  For  as  an  Vijicorne  hauing  most  strength,  doth 
least  knowe  it:  so  he  hauing  greatest  pith,  did  most  pitty  him- 
selfe.  Notwithstanding  that  the  gods  being  corrinals  in  the 
framing  of  him,  and  neuer  one  suffering  a  fellowe  cockn;iate| 
in  this  ioint  labour,  they  all  doing  beste  w*out  comparison  it 
was  hard  to  iudge  who  did  the  worst,  euen  y=.  worst  being 
placed  in  the  superlatiue  degree.  Which  his  parentes  marking, 
and  meruailing  at  it,  thought  themselues  especially  bounde  to 
be  carefull  on  him,  lest  either  nature  wanting  nurture,  it  should 
be  raard  in  making,  and  so  the  gods  offended  with  their  will- 
full  negligence  :  or  his  good  disposition  being  at  libertie,  hau- 
ing no  leader  but  his  owne  discretion,  they  mighte  reape  lesse 
pleasure  in  vewing  his  good  lucke,  hauing  taken  ho  paynes  in 
his  bringing  vp.    They  therefore  knowing  that  a  youttge  colte 

muste 


443 

muste  be  vsed  to  the  bift  before  he  come  to  the  saddle ;  that 
sprigs  sprout  the  better  if  they  be  lopped,  chuse  rather  to  bee 
niggardes  in  pinching  him  of  pence,  then  procure  iiis  nicenes 
with  vaine  prodigalliiie,  rather  liking  a  wan  looke  that  comes 
of  moderate  diet,  and  bewrayes  a  painfull  student,  then  a  fresh 
ruddy  cheeke  that  is  died  with  Bacchus  his  buries,  and  breedes 
suspition  of  luste.  Well,  the  sunne,  and  the  moone,  and  the 
seueu  starres,  and  all  els  that  I  canne  name,  according  in  an 
vnitie,  to  adorne  with  their  trinitie  this  blessed  gentleman,  he 
costed  and  posted  with  such  light-foote  speede,  that  cotingand 
hording  all  his  coequalles  with  whom  he  was  conuersant,  he 
was  y"  gaze  at  which  all  eyes  did  spye,  the  worst  repining,  the 
best  enuving,  all  admiring  this  vncouth  straungnes,  and  know- 
ing the  p(5ssibilitie  of  his  wealth  by  disctnt  of  inheritaunce, 
thought  the  revenues  of  his  vertues  would  be  inualuable." 

Cleocritus,  the  father,  in  a  long  speech,  fraught  with 
copious  and  desultory  arguments,  discusses  the  subject  of 
women,  and  is  replied  to  with  a  quickness  and  pertinence 
of  quotation  not  to  be  aptly  expected  from  the  green 
years  of  Philotimus,  who  is  finally  to  go  to  his  chosen 
university,  accompanied  with  Aemilius.  This  departure 
introduces  the  heroine  for  the  purpose  of  a  farewell. 

"  There  was  a  gentlewoma"  by  stile,  but  as  I  haue  heard  & 
partly  gesse  by  her  slippery  dealinges,  giuing  no  peremptorjr 
judgement,  but  by  coniecture,  a  rare  iucwell  scraped  out  of  a 
dunghill,  gotten  by  stealth  by  the  wicked  aspect  of  a  beggerly 
micher,  whe~  her  mothers  husba~d,  her  father  by  name,  could 
not  see  for  h'ornes  growing  ouex  his  eyes,  but  (he  fault  you  will 
say  was  not  in  her,  but  in  her  inother,  which  in  shufling-  the 
cards  shufledin  a  knaue  too  many.  This  gentlewoma",  almost 
of  equall  age  w'.  noble  Philo.  her  father  being  deceased,  was 
left  in  ward  with  a  gentleraa"  neare  neighbour  to  senior  Cleo- 
critus, vpon  which  occasion  Philo.  sometimes  in  company  with 
her  &  often  conferring  her  ft-ature  with  his  fancie,  felt  at 
length  such  skirmishes  of  affection  y'.  he  valiantly  proued 
himselfe  a  carped  knight:  and  as  Plato  speaking  of  y^.  soule 
which  ascending  after  death  vp  to  the  heaue~s  &  meeting  w'. 
natures  semblable  to  it  selfe  in  all  respectes,  staies  there,  &  not 
•before:  so  she  seing  his  posse,  corresponde~t  to  her  velle,  met 
him  iust  in  y"-  midway  of  all  his  loue,  gaue  him  pat  for  pat, 
.loue  for  loue,  as  longe  as  he  would." 

A  whole  night  is  wasted  in  unfolding  his  tale  and  con- 
versation with  the  faire  Aurelia.  In  one  speech  he  ex- 
claims: 

"  Fye 


444 

"  Fye  pleasure,  fye,  thou  cloyest  me  withe  delyghle. 
Nowe  Priams  sone  giue  plSce,  thy  Helens  hew  is  stainde.  O 
Troylus,  weepe  no  more,  faire  Cressed  thyne  is  lothlye  fowle. 
Nor  Hercules  thou  haste  cause  to  vaunt  for  thy  sweteOmphale : 
nor  Komeo  thou  hast  cause  to  weepe  for  luliets  losse,  *  if  euer 
Aurelia  had  saluted  your  sight,  whose  bright  eyes  beatn  like 
the  precious  carbuncle,  &c." 

Vows  for  continued  attachment  usher  in  the  morning. 
Our  hero  departs  to  the  university,  discussions  occur  with 
the  tutor;  and  time,  and  the  studies  of  Philotimus,  enrich 
his  mind  with  learning  and  virtue.     Of  his  person: 

"  His  body  was  decently  made,  &  featlye  framed,  conteyning 
an  absolute  constitution,  and  conuenience  of  liniauienis:  his 
head  not  a  slope  cornered,  but  rou~d  &  globe  wise  fashioned. 
His  haire  auburne  or  chesten  coloure,  &  so  was  Hectors :  his 
forehead  smooth  and  vnwrinckled,  beautified  with  comelye 
eiebrOwes,  and  suche  were  the  browes  of  Alcibiades,  and  gal- 
lantly garnished  with  a  paire  of  amiable  eies,  not  hollowe,  but 
delightfully  standinge  out,  cherefuU  to  bis  frendes,  and  chur- 
lish to  his  foes,  &  such,  saith  Heliodorus,  were  the  eyes  of 
Theagenes,  his  cheeks  roseall  like  Phebus  rising  iu  the  orientall 
skie:  of  stature  he  was  semely  neither  dwarfish  like  a  man  cut 
of  at  legges,  nor  a  lungis  like  one  that  standes  upon  stilts,  but 
iust  in  the  middes  wherein  consisteth  vertue.  His  porta  and 
state  of  body  bolte  vpright,  his  gate  framed  to  comelinesse,  not 
nicely  affected,  nor  curiously  counterfayted ,  as  it  were  plaiers, 
and  disguised  masquers,  who,  by  a  kind  of  vpstart  gate  vn- 
wisely  weene  to  win  commendation.  In  commXinitie  of  life 
he  was  verye  jocund  neither  jto  bablatiuc  withe  flattery  nor  to 
whust  with  niorositie. " 

The  topics  descanted  upon  are  numerous,  and  little 
incidental  relations,  with  apposite  gatherings  from  ancient 
writers,  crowd  every  page.  Such  ebullitions  of  a  retentive 
memory  appear  to  have  been  adopted  by  romance  writers 
to  supply  the  place  of  combats  and  lournamentSj  knights, 
vizards,  and  enchantments,  when  they  rapidly  declined, 
from  want  of  novelty:  however,  the  composition,  though 
not  entirely  fabulous,  was  less  in  unison  with  general 
reading  and  manners  than  the  wonderful  tale  of  faction, 
and  the  machinery  of  the  one  continues  to  be  admired 

*  This  forms  another  curious  instance  of  the  popularity  of  the 
tale  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,     See  p.  34.9. 

and 


445 

anu  partially  read  with  gratification,  while  the  other  is 
universally  condemned  as  tedious  and  useless  pedantry. 
To  unite  these  verbose  labours  in  narrative,  the  parents 
of  Philotimus  die,  and  he,  by  degrees,  "  was  counter- 
coyned  to  open  beggerie ;  and  Dauie  debte  stoode 
watching  with  a  mace  at  the  doore  ready  to  arrest  him." 
Cornelius,  "  a  stale  hacking  courtier,"  obtains  Aurelia, 
which  gives  rise  to  a  long  and  spirited  correspondence, 
and  the  despair  and  poverty  of  Philotimus  follow.  He 
challenges  his  rival,  without  effect,  and  debates  his  dis- 
tress in  a  soliloquy,  wherein  he  says: 

"■  Arraigne  me  at  the  barre  of  seuere  iadgement,  exaggerate 
my  crimes  with  amplification,  impannell  an  inqueste  of  Russet 
coat  Robbins,  let  Cautle  Subteltie  be  the  foreman  &  Summum 
ius  the  Judge,  and  Cuthbert  the  cutthroat  commense  his  action, 
what  amercement  or  penaltie  canne  they  assigne  mee,  or 
wherein  can  they  say  I  haue  offended,  that  should  alienate 
man  from  former  liking  ?  Indeed  I  haue  wastfully  spente  (more 
caytiffe  I)  the  surrender  of  my  fathers  landes,  and  run  my 
selfe  into  desperate  debtes,  and  now  in  steede  of  blew  coates 
to  waite  at  my  table,  haue  a  couple  of  Sergeants  to  attend  me 
through  y=.  stretes,  that  I  slip  not  the  collar." 

Friendship  is  found  to  neglect  poverty,  and  Philotimus 
vents  his  complaint  in  a  "  patchie  pamphlet"  of  sixteen 
pages.  To  be  brief,  he  becomes  a  wanderer,  and,  with 
his  newly  obtained  service  of  a  prince,  the  story  is  left 
unfinished.  The  interlocutors  again  appear,  and  Pahdol- 
pho  engages  to  "  reade  oute  the  reste  some  other  faire 
day." 

The  author  is  grossly  vulgar  in  two  or  three  instances 
and,  by  proverbial  and  common  place  observations,  made 
an  attempt  to  secure  a  large  circle  of  readers.  A  few  of 
these  allusions,  promiscuously  taken,  may  not  appear  in- 
curious. 

"  Warr  wing,  quoth  the  huntsman,  to  Bowman  his  hound." 
"■  Thinking  he  had  got  a  goodly  yong  heafer,  it  was  nothing" 

but  y*.  deuili  in  a  cowes  hyde,  as  Richard  Farneyeares  sonne 

was  once  beguiled." 

"  What  trylle  the  ball  againe  my  Jacke,  and  be  contente  to 

make  some  play,  and  I  will  lull  thee  on  my  lappa,  with  hey  be 

bird  now  say  not  nay.  *  " 

•  This  seems  the  fag  end  of  a  nursery  ballad,  though  given  as: 
pros£.  , 

"  So 


44^ 

*'  So  did  the  men  of  Gotam  tye  their  rentes  in  a  pnrse  about 
an  hare's  necke  and  bad  her  to  carrie  it  to  their  landlord." 

"  He  thatbestowes  rewards  to  insinuate  hiraself  into  friend- 
ship is  like  Bath-kepers  asse  that  brought  his  master  fewell 
home  to  make  fires  and  he  himself  lined  with  smell  of  the 
smoake."  ' 

"  Such  a  pearle  in  a  blackamoores  eare  woulde  make  him 
whytt." 

"  Clitipho  began  a  tale  of  lack  a  naile,  which  I  am  afraid 
you  will  not  tarry  till  you  haue  heard.  It  was  an  halt  king, 
and  a  blind  qaeencj  and  they  got  a  lame  sonne,  and  he  would 
go  to  the  nine,  endes  of  the  world  to  seeke  his  fortune,  &  whe" 
he  was  there,  he  was  there:  he  met  with  a  pilgrim,  Godgeue 
you  good  euen,  which  is  the  way  to  Poclinton ;  a  pokeful  of 
plummesj  he  clamb  vp  into  a  thistle  tree  and  cut  downe  an 
hasyll  twigge,  and  broke  his  heade  till  it  was  whole:  and 
when  he  came  home  he  was  as  wise  as  a  woodcocke." 

"  I  haue  read  that  Attyla  king  of  Pamoria  slew  eleuen 
thousand  virgines  at  the  siege  ofColonia:  but  a  man  might 
induce  mee,  without  a  sermon  pareneticall  for  exhortation, 
that  hee  might  seeke  bethe  where  they  were  and  were  not,  ,as 
Skoggin  did  the  hare,  and  presse  an  array  royall  of  arrand 
honest  women,  to  scale  the  fortresse  of  modestie  with  friday 
faced  scoulds,  ere  he  coulde  triump  for  halfe  such  a  victory  iii 
twise  so  much  space," 

"  Poore  vnbegotten  wether  beaten  Qualto,  an  hob  hansom 
man-god  wot,  and  a  bow  wow  to  his  lady  &  mistresse  seruing 
a  Lady  in  Italy  as  a  Tom  drudge  of  the  pudding  house." 

"  War  knaue,  quoth  Tomkins  to  his  shadow:  for  he  seing 
his  shadowe  in  the  nighte,  tooke  it  for  one  that  came  to  spoilc 
him,  to  whom,  knauing  it,  and  slauing  it,  hee  gaue  many  a 
good  bang." 

'•'  Farewell  fortie  pence  too  deare  of  three  shillings." 

"  I  haue  red  that  in  an  old  smokie  authour,  which  the"  I 
thought  worthie  noting,  and  here  I  meane  to  insert,  and  this 
it  is  in  our  vulgar  tongue  :  I  haue  seldome  sene  a  long  man 
wise,  or  a  lowe  man  lowlie." 

"  Nick  Noddie  hath  the  lucke  when  Welladay  Wit  liues  in 
lacke." 

"  If  you  will  kepe  frends,  you  must  put  in  practise  this  old 
delectorie.  Giue,  take,  seeke  j  all  things,  few  things,  nothing." 

"  Gentlemen,  in  our  dales,  will  bee  cozins  to  all  of  any  port 

'  or  great  report  in  the  whole  shire  though  their  gransires  dog 

scarse  leapt  ouer  their  grandames  hatch ;  but  if  a  poore  man 

be  in  the  second  degree,  he  is  not  in  the  catalogue  of  their 

genealogie." 


447 

"  It  is  a  proucrbe  in  England  that  the  men  of  Tiuidal, 
borderers  on  y'.  English  midle  marches,  haue  likers,  lemmo^s, 
and  lyerbies." 

Two  or  three  short  poems  are  inserted,  of  which  the 
following  is  the  most  favourable' specimen: 

"  Might  mournftill  wailing  end  my  dales, 

or  pinching  pareful  woe  surcease; 
Then  hope  might  haue  his  wished  deaths 

or  life  enioy  his  wonted  ease. 
But  welth  is,  and  kin  ynkind, 

all  luckles  haps  denie  my  ioy. 
So  direfull  griefe  must  cuer  last, 

and  lingring  life  augment  annoy. 

In  pleasant  May  moone  of  mine  age, 

I  meane  the  lustie  gallant  prime. 
Where  golden  pleasure  beares  the  sway, 

and  youthful!  sportes  doe  passe  the  time: 
Euen  then,  alas,  poore  wretched  wight, 

my  gladsome  myrth  was  heauy  mone. 
My  new  sprung  rose  did  scarcely  bud, 

wher  straightway  blasting  all  was  gone. 

Yet  mauger  frowning  fortunes  spite, 

myswetest  (I)  is  euer  one, 
Not  neare  by  byrth,  but  deare  by  louc, 

and  sure  more  faithfuU  neuer  none : 
His  will  is  still  as  erst  it  was, 

no  froward  chaunce  can  chaunge  his  choise. 
In  lieu  whereof  fame  sound  his  praise 

with  most  triumphant  ioyfuU  yoice." 

J.  H. 


%  Here  be  gathered  covnsailes  of  Saincle  Isidorie,  to 
informe  man,  howe  he  shulde  flee  vices  and  Jolowe 
vertues.  Londini  in  adilus  Thoma  Beriheleti  typis 
impress.  Cum  priuilegio  ad  imprimendum  solum. 
AnnoM.D.XLIIII.    Oct.  i6  leaves. 

Without  introduction;  these  gathered  counsails  are 
divided  under  several  heads,  as 

"  Honest'  conuersacion.  Fie  thou  simulacion,  feine  not 
holinesse  in  darke  clothynge.  Such  as  thou  woldest  ben  hold, 
suche  be  thou  in  dede,     Shewc  thy  profession  in  liuynge  and 

no): 


44^ 

not  in  tokens.  In  clofhyng,  and  in  goynge,  hade  with' the 
siraplenesse:  in  thy  gate  and  in  thy  mouyngB  cleannes,  in  thy 
bearing  sadnesse,  in  thy  walkyng  honestie,  nothing  of  vilany, 
nothynge  of  ivncleannesse, .  nothyng  of.wildenesse.  Beward  in 
thy  gouernance,  that  there  appere  nothyng  pf  .beastlynesse. 
Giue  not  to  other  cause  for  to  scorne  the,  gyue  thou  not  to  any 
man  cause  to  backbite  the."  .     , 

"  A  vowe  made.  Do  the  good  that  thou  haste  beliote.  Be 
not  light  in  word  and  barde  in  dede.  Thoa  shalt  be  much 
giltie  to  godj  that  fulfyll  not  their  vowes.  I  say  not  vowes  that 
ben  euyl  but  good.  For  if  thou  through  thy  foly  hast  made  a 
fonde  vowe,  through  the  dome  of  a  discrete  man  be  it  wysely 
tourned  into  good."  *  * 


Ti  The  Problemes  of  Aristotle,  with  other  Philosophers 
and  Phisiiioris.  Wherein  are  contained  diners  ques- 
tions, with  their  answers,  touching  the  estate  of  mans 
hodie.  [Device  of  Thomas  Orwin  with  motto  By 
wisdome  peace,  by  peace  plenty.]  At  London  printed 
by  the  Widdow  Orwin.  1595.    Duod. 

A  short  address  to  the  reader,  followed  by  the  problems 
of  Aristotle,  of  "  Marcvs  Antonivs  Zimaras  Sanctipetri- 
nas  Problemes,"  in  number  ninety  seven  and  142  of 
'*  Alexander  Aphrodisevs  Problemes."  The  general  im- 
port of  the  work  is  sufficiently  known,  and  may  well  ex- 
cuse a  specimen. 

At  the  close  of  the  volume  before  me  occurs  an  unusual 
bibliographical  addition,  sufficient  to  make  the  work  ap- 
pear issuing  from  either  English  or  Scotch  press,  to  suit 
the  vendor's  convenience.  The  last  two  leaves  of  the 
concluding  sheet  are  a  fly  leaf  lettered  "  A  j."  then  the 
following  title,  which,  though  only  slightly  varying  from 
the  above,  might,  prefixed  to  another  copy,  ground  an 
opinion  of  two  distinct  editions. 

The  Problemes  of  Aristotle,  with  other  Philosophers 
and  Phisitions.  FFkerein  are  contayned  diuers  qaesUons, 
with  fhcir  answers,  touching  the  estate  of  mans  bodie  [a 
fancy  metal  ornament]  At  Edenlorougk^  Printed  by 
Robert  Waldgraue,  1595.  J.  ^H. 

T.  Behsky,  Printer,     •  • 

Bolt  Court,  Fleet-street,  London. 


Ifoffif  Jieader.tJiy  TTalf  Cm wii , and/v a Prir^t'i 
1oourY»xn-dSsm  ,  Tisthr  Malfs  J/iif7 

^'J)if  rntcr[ainnient  necd^  nuisTlf  iiii'lnt 
l-polloVrf'  HoA  ivhcre  Cockiitie  He.xtl/,9115,11.1 


l,^'!.l,'n.  I\d^Uf7i^.t  .ful,,i^Ji!l.hi,  H.-lTri  Tnp)u^,4:  S'J 


3Sriti0|)  35if)liosrap|)er. 


N°  X. 


^  Memoir  of  Sir  Aston  Cdkayne. 

The  best  account  of  Sir  Aston  Cokayne  may  be 
picked  out  from  various  passages  in  his  own  volume  of 
poems.  This  indeed  has  been  in  som^  degree  done  al- 
ready by  the  present  writer  in  an  article  inserted  in  the 
Gent.  Mag.  for  July  1797,  p.  554-  But  by  way  of 
variety  the  sketch  now  given  shall  be  filled  up  from  other 
passages,  there  omitted  for  want  of  room. 

Sir  Aston  Cokayne,  son  of  Thomas  Cokayne,  Esq.  of 
Ashbourne  Hall  in  Derbyshire,  and  of  Pooley  in  War" 
wickshire,  was  born  in  1608  at  Elvaston  in  Derbyshire, 
the  seat  of  the  family  of  his  niother,  Anne  daughter  of 
Sir  John  Stanhope  of  Elvaston,  Knt.  The  Cokaynes  had 
been  seated  at  Ashbourne  in  great  credit  from  the  reign 
of  K.  Edw.  Ill,  Sir  Thomas,  his  great  grandfather,  who 
died  in  1593,  was  the  author  of  a  very  scarce  volume, 
which  will  be  mentioned  in  the  long-expected  arid  forth- 
coming reprint  of  Dame  Juliana  Barries,  by  Mr. 
Haslewood. 

Our  poet  was  educated  at  Trinity  College  Cambridge, 
as  appears  by  the  following  Epigram  i.  of  Book  II.  of  his 
poems. 

"  To  the  Fellow  Commoners  of  Trinity  College  in 
Cambridge. 

"  Gentlemen,  in  my  youth  I  spent  some  years 
Within  your  walls;  but  few,  it  plain  appears 
yoh.  II.  G  G  By 


45° 

By  this  .poor  book,  ■which  I  an  offering  make 

Unto  ji^u,  for  your  recreation's  sake  : 

Not  that  I  do  presume  that  you  may  find 

Any  thing  in  it  worth  your  eyes  or  mind;  ■ 

But  that  the  view  of  these  slight  toys  may  raise 

You  to  accomplish  works  deserving  praise. 

When  yoii  have  laugh'd  enough  at  these,  prsLy  take 

Each  of  you  pen  in  hand,  and  better  make : 

Which  would  a  noble  emulation  prove. 

And  from  our  rank  an  obloquy  remove." 

In  1633  Sir  Aston  set  out  on  his  travels  through 
France  and  Italy,  of  which  he  has  given  an  account  in  a 
poem  to  his  son  Mr.  Thomas  Cokayne,  beginning  at 
p.  93.  On  his  retnrji  he  married  Anne  daughter  of  Sir 
Gilbert  Kniveton  of  Mercaston,  Co.  Derby,  IQit.  and  re- 
tiring to  his  lordship  of  Pooley,  gave  himself  up  to  his 
books,  and  boon  companions. 

His  mother  seems  to  have  lived  at  this  time  at  Ash- 
bourne Hall,- probably  as  her  jointure  house;  for  the 
following  appears  among  her  son's  Epigrams,  IV.  10. 

"  To  my  Mother,  Mrs.  Anne  Cokain. 

"  Let  none  cur  Ashbourn  discommend  henceforth; 
Your  gardens  shew  it  is  a  place  of  wonh. 
What  delicate  sparagus  you  have  growing  there. 
And  in  how  great  abundance  every  year  ? 
What  gallant  apricots,  and  peaches  brave. 
And  what  delicious  nectarins  you  have? 
What  melons  that  grow  ripe  without  those  glasses. 
That  are  laid  over  them  in  other  places  ? 
What  grapes  you  there  have  growing  ?  and  what  wine 
Pleasant  to  taste  yon  made  last  vintage  time  .' 
Plant  vines,  and  when  of  grapes  you  have  got  store. 
Make  wine  enough,  and  I  will  ask  no  more  : 
Then  Mr.  Bancroft  in  high  lines  shall  tell 
The  world,  your  cellar's  Aganippe's  well." 
He  boasts  at  this  time  of  his  friends  among  the  poets, 

Donne,  Suckling,  Randolph,  Drayton,  Massinger,  Ha- 

bington,  Sandys,  and  May. 
But  our  author  cultivated  the  acquaintance  of  antiquaries 

as  well  as  of  men  of  genius.    The  following  lines  appear 

to  me  to  have  considerable  merit. 


451 

To  my  worthy  and  learned  Friend  Mr.  William 
Dugdale  upon  his  Wartuickshire  illustrated. 

"  They  that  have  visited  those  foreign  lands 

Whence  Phoebus  first  our  hemisphere  commands  j 

And  they  that  have  beheld  those  climes  or  seas 

Whence  he  removes  to  the  Antipodes; 

Have  followed  him  his  circuit  through,  and  been 

In  all  those  parts  that  day  hath  ever  seen. 

Although  their  number  surely  is  but  few; 

Have  .not,  learn'd  friend,  travel'd  so  much  as  you; 

Though  in  your  study  you  have  sat  at  home 

Without  a  mind  about  the  world  to  roam. 

Witness  this  so  elaborate  piece ;  how  high 

Have  you  oblig'd  us  by  your  industry ! 

We  may  be  careless  of  our  fames,  and  slight 

The  pleasing  trouble  any  books  to  write. 

The  nobles  and  the  gentry  that  have  there 

Concern,  shall  live  for  ever  in  your  shire. 

Our  names  shall  be  immortal,  and  when  at 

The  period  of  inevitable  fate 

We  do  arrive,  a  poet  needs  not  come 

To  grace  an  herse  with's  epiladium. 

Marbles  and  brass  for  tombs  we  now  may  spare 

And  for  an  epitaph  forbear  the  care : 

For,  for  us  all  unto  our  high  content 

Your  book  will  prove  a  lasting  monument. 

And  such  a  work  it  is,  that  England  must 

Be  proud  of,  if  unto  your  merit  just; 

A  grace  it  will  unto  our  language  be. 

And  ornament  to  every  library. 

No  old,  or  modern  rarity  we  boast. 

Henceforth  shall  be  in  danger  to  be  lost. 

Your  worthy  book  comes  fortunately  forth. 

For  it  again  hath  builded  Kenilworth. 

Maugre  the  rage  of  war,  or  time  to  come, 

Aston  shall  flourish  till  the  general  doom; 

And  the  Holts'  progeny  shall  owe  as  much 

Unto  your  lines,  as  him  that  made  it  such. 

The  spires  and  walls  of  Coventry  your  pen 

Hath  built  more  lasting  than  the  hands  of  men. 

The  prospects  of  our  noble  seats  you  shall 

Secure  from  any  ruin  may  befall : 

Our  pleasant  Warwick,  and  her  castle,  that 

Surveys  the  stream  of  Avon  from  her  seat, 

G  G  2  Your 


453 

Your  labours  more  illustrious  have  made 

Than  all  the  rfeparation  they  e'er  had. 

Victorious  Guy  you  have  reviy'd,  and  he 

Is  now  secure  of  immiortality. 

Ee'n  my  beloved  Pooley,  that  hath  long 

Groan'd  underneath  sinister  fortune's  wrong. 

Your  courteous  eyes  have  look'd  so  kindly  on. 

That  now  it  is  to  its  first  splendor  grown; 

Shall  slight  time's  devastations,  and  o'er 

The  banks  of  Anchor  flourish  evermore; 

"For  there's  such  virtue  in  your  powerful  hand. 

That  every  place  you  name  shall  ever  stand. 

The  skilfuUest  anatomist  that  yet 

Upon  an  human  body  e'er  did  sit. 

Did  never  so  precisely  shew  bis  art. 

As  you  have  yours  in  your  Cornavian  part. 

You  in  your  way  do  tliem  in  theirs  exceed ; 

You  makethe  dead  to  live;  they  spoil  the  dead. 

Now  Stratford  lipon  Avon,  we  would  choose 

Thy  gentle  and  ingenious  Shakspeare  Muse, 

Were  he  among  the  living  yet,  to  raise 

T'  our  Antiquary's  merit  some  just  praise : 

And  sweet-tongued  Drayton,  that  hath  given  renown 

Unto  a  poor  before  and  obscure  town, 

Harsull,  were  she  not  fall'n  into  his  tomb. 

Would  crown  this  work  with  an  encomium. 

Our  Warwickshire  the  heart  of  England  is. 

As  you  most  evidently  have  prov'd  by  this; 

Having  it  wiih  more  spirit  dignified. 

Than  all  our  English  counties  are  beside. 

Hearts  should  be  thankful ;  therefore  I  obtrude 

This  testimony  of  my  gratitude. 

You  do  deserve  more  than  we  all  can  do : 

And  so,  most  learned  of  my  friends,  Adieu  I" 

The  91st  Epigram  of  the  Second  Book  is  addressed  to 
another  Antiquary,  whose  work  has  never  appeared. 

"  To  my  honoured  friend,  Mr.  Samuel  Roper. 

"  Make  Derbyshire  by  your  most  able  pen 
Allow  yon  her  obligins-'st  countryman; 
From  dust  and  dark  oblivion  raise  her  glories, 
Aiid  from  old  records  publish  all  her  stories: 
So  you  with  jyir.  Dugdale  shall  remain. 
Your  country's  honour:  other  countries'  stain  !" 

The 


^       465- 

The  poet  gives  a  trait  of  his  habils  and- sfenliments  in 
Epigr.  107  of  B.  I. 

"  To  my  Wife. 

"  My  Mall,  how  we  desire  both  to  go  down, 
And  still  how  business  stays  us  in  the  town! 
Since  plays  are  silenc'd  by  the  prftsbyter. 
And  wine  Is  grown  so  very  naught  and  dear; 
London  seems  frowning  like  a  step -dame  now. 
That  look'd  before  with  so  serene  a  brow. 
Away  therefore,  and  let  us  hasten  home 
To  our  love's  pledges  our  dear  Mall  and  Tom." 

Another  trait  appears  in  the  following  Epig.  108  of 
Book  II. 

"  To  my  son  Mr.  Thomas  Cokaine. 

"  Let  others  glory  in  their  hawks  and  hounds, 
ffheir  golden  heaps,  and  circuit  of  their  grounds  j 
Their  gallant  breed  of  horses,  and  their  meat, 
Drest  so,  that  Heliogabalus  would  eat ; 
Their  mistresses  whose  beauties  would  inflame 
Unknown  lands'  salvages,  and  make  them  tame 
Themselves,  and  then  so  richly  dress'd,  that  you 
The  heavens  without  a  cloud  would  think  in  view  : 
Give  me  a  study  of  good  books,  and  I 
Envy  to  none  their  hugg'd  felicity," 

The  poems  from  whence  the  above  extracts  liave  been 
made  were  published  under  the  following  title:  Poems 
of  divers  sorts.  Written  hy  Sir  Aston  Cokain.  London^ 
Printed  hy  William  Godbid,  1658,  small  Svo. 

At  page  289,  another  title-page  thus : 

The  Obstinate  Lady,  a  Comedy,  written  by  Aston 
Cokain.     London,  printed  by  William  Godbid,  1658. 

At  page  4.14,  a  third  title-page,  thus: 

Trappolin  creduto  Principe,  or  Trappolin  supposed  a 
Prince.  An  Italian  Trage-com&dy.  The  scene  part  of 
Italy.  Written  hy  Sir  Aston  Cokain.  London,  printed 
hy  William  Godbid,  1658. 

The  above  first  title-page  was  soon  displaced  for  the 
following : 

A  chains  of  golden  Poems,  tmbelUshed  with  wit, 
o  03  mirth, 


454 

mirth,  and  eloquence,  together  with  two  most  excellent 
comedies,  1658. 

The  same  edition  had  the  change  of  a  third  title  in 
1669,  which  called  it 

Choice  Poems  of  several  sorts;  and  to  this,  as  Wood 
has  remarked,  was  superadded  the  Tragedy  of  Ovid.  * 

The  volume  consists  first  of  a  long  poem  entitled  A 
Remedy  for  Love,  in  which  he  principally  ad/ises  a  tour 
through  England.  Then  follow  Two  Eclogues  and  A 
Satire,  which  are  succeeded  by  25  Love- Elegies;  and 
these  by  6  Funeral- Elegies. 

Next  come  8  Epislles;  and  then  Encomiastic  Verses 
on  several  Books.     These  are  succeeded  by 

A  Masque  presented  at  BrelMe  in  Darly shire  on 
Twelfth-Night,  1639. 

Then  An  Epilhalamium  on  Sir  Andrew  Kniveton  and 
Elizabeth  Stanhope  of  Eluastoij. 

Now  come  Three  Books  of  Epigrams,  followed  by  a 
setof  So7z^j;  and  last  the  two  Plays  of  The  Obstinate 
Lady,  and  Trappolin. 

The  encomiastic  verses  are 

1.  "  To  my  friend  Mr.  Thomas  Randolph,  on  his 
play  called  The  Entertainment,  printed  by  the  name  of 
The  Muses  Looking  Glass. 

2.  To  my  friend  Mr.  Philip  Massinger,  on  his  tragi- 
comedy, called  The  Emperour  of  the  East. 

3.  To  the  same,  on  his  tragi-comedy,  called  The 
Maid  of  Honour. 

4.  Of  Mr.  John  Fletcher,  his  plays,  and  especially 
The  Mad  Lover. 

5.  To  my  very  good  friend  Mr.  Thomas  Bancroft  on 
his  works. 

6.  To  Mr.  Humphrey  C.  on  his  poem  called  Love's 
Hawking-  Bag. 

7.  To  Mr.  James  Strong,  Bachelour,  upon  his  won- 
derful poem  called  Joanareidos. 

8.  A  Praeludium  to  Mr.  Richard  Brome's  plays, 
g.  To  Dugdale,  already  extracted. 

10.  To  my  learned  friend,  Mr.  Thomas  Bancroft, 
upon  his  book  of  Satires, 

*  Gent.  A/flg-.  1757,  p.  737. 

II.  To 


455 

n.  To  my  mobt  honoured  cousin,  Mr.  Charles  Cot- 
ton, the  younger,  upon  his  excellent  Poems. 

12.  To  my  learned  friend,  Mr.  Thomas  Bancroft, 
upon  his  poem,  called  The  Heroic  Lover. 

Charles  Cotton,  the. younger,  was  a  constant  subject 
ofSir  Aston's  praises;  and  he  deserved  them.  But  as 
his  poetry  is  now  too  much  neglected,  I  will  transcribe 
two  of  these  encomiums. 

*'    To  my  cousin  Mr.   Charles    Cotton  the  younger. 
(Epigr.  66,  B.  I) 

"  In  how  few  years  have  you  rais'd  up  an  high 
Column  of  learning  by  your  industry. 
More  glorious  than  those  pyramids,  that  old 
Canopus  view'd,  or  Cair  doth  yet  behold  I 
Your  noble  father,  tliat  for  able  parts 
Hath  won  an  high  opinion  in  all  hearts. 
May  like  the  elder  Scaliger  look  down 
With  admiration  on  his  worthy  son  ! 
Proceed,  fair  plant  of  exc'llencies,  and  grow 
So  high,  to  shadow  all  that  are  below  1" 

"  To  the  same.     (From  No.  ii  of  Encomiastic  Verses, 
as  ahove.J 

"  Bear  back,  yon  crowd  of  wits  that  have  so  long 
Been  the  prime  glory  of  the  English  tongue ; 
And  room  for  our  arch-poet  make,  and  follow 
His  steps,  as  you  would  do  your  great  Apollo  : 
Nor  is  he  his  inferior;  for  see 
His  picture,  and  you'll  say  that  this  is  hej 
So  young  and  handsome  both  ;  so  tress'd  alike. 
That  curious  Lely,  or  most  skill'd  Vandyke 
Would  prefer  neither  :  only  here's  the  odds, 
This  gives  us  better  verse,  than  that  the  gods. 
Beware  you  poets,  that  at  distance  you 
The  reverence  afford  him  that  is  due 
Unto  his  mighty  merit,  and  not  dare 
Your  puny  shreds  with  his  lines  to  compare ; 
Lest  for  so  impious  a  pride,  a  worse 
Than  was  Arachne's  fate,  or  Meda's  curse. 
Posterity  inflicts  upon  your  fames,      ( 
For  vent'ring  to  approach  too  near  his  flames ; 

G  G  4  Whose 


45^ 

^ho6e  all-commanding  Muse  disdains  to  be 

Equall'd  by  any,  in  all  poesy. 

As  the  presumptuous  son  of  Clymene 

Tiie  sun's  cornraand  iraportun'd  for  a  day 

Of  his  unwilling  fathefj  and  for  so 

Rash  an  attempt  fell  headlong  into  Po ; 

So  you  shall  fall  or  worse ;  not  leave  so  much 

As  empty  names,  to  shew  there  once  were  such. 

The  Greek  and  Latin  language  he  comnaands. 

So  all  that  then  was  writ  in  both  these  lands 

The  French  and  the  Italian  he  hath  gain'd. 

And  all  the  wit  that  in  them  is  contain'd. 

So,  if  he  pleases  to  translate  a  piece 

From  France,  or  Italy,  old  Rome,  or  Greece, 

The  understanding  reader  spon  will  find 

It  is  the  best  of  any  of  that  kind  : 

But  when  he  lets  his  own  rare  fancy  loose. 

There  is  no  flight  so  noble  as  his  Muse: 

Treats  he  of  war  ?  Bellona  doth  advance. 

And  leads  his  march  with  her  refulgent  lance. 

Sings  he  of  love  ?  Cupid  about  him  lurks ; 

And  Venus  in  her  chariot  draws  his  works^ 

"Whate'er  his  subject  be,  he'll  make  it  fit 

To  live  hereafter  Emperor  of  Wit. 

He  is  the  Muse's  darling :  all  the  Nine 

Phcebus  disclaim,  and  term  him  more  divine. 

7  he  wondrous  Tasso,  that  so  long  hath  borne 

The  sacred  laurel,  shall  remain  forlorn: 

Alonso  de  Ercilla,  that  in  strong 

And  mighty  lines  hath  Araucuna  sung: 

And  Sallust,  that  the  ancient  Hebrew  story 

Hath  poetiz'd, — submit  unto  your  glory : 

So  the  chief  swans  of  Tagus,  Arne,  and  Seine 

Must  yield  to  Thames,  and  veil  unto  your  strain. 

Hail,  generous  magazine  of  wit,  you  bright 
Planet  of  learning,  dissipate  the  night 
Of  dullness,  wherein  us  this  age  involves. 
And  from  our  ignorance  redeem  our  souls ! 

A  word  at  parting.  Sir:  I  could  not  choose 
Thus  to  congratulate  your  happy  Muse  : 
And,  though  I  vilify  your  worth,  my  zeal. 
And  so  in  mercy  think,  intended  well. 
The  world  will  find  your  lines  are  great  and  strong  ; 
The  nihil  ultra  of  the  English  tongue." 


In       In 


457 

In  the  following  Epigram  Sir  Aston  gives  an  opinion ' 
of  his  own  compositions. 

"  To  Sir  Andrew  Knyveton,  my  wives  brother  (Epig.  94, 

"  Wonder  not  why  among  so  many  of 
My  Epigrams,  I  do  no  ofteiier  scoff. 
And  taunt  of  men,  observing  when  they  halt. 
And  tax  them  smartly  after  for  their  fault. 
I  know  that  epigrams  should  either  be 
Satires  reduc'd  to  an  epitome ; 
Or  else  in  choicest  language  should  invite. 
Being  what  you  please,  the  readers  with  delight. 
Troth!  I  in  scoffs  but  little  do  prevail. 
Which  is  the  cause  that  I  no  oftner  rail; 
And  have  for  eloquence  but  what  you  see  ; 
And  therefore  all  ray  friends  must  pardon  me." 

The  reader  will  now  prob«bly  think  that  specimens 
more  than  enough  have  been  given  of  Sir  Aston's  verses. 
But  they  exhibit  the  character  of  his  life  as  well  as  of  his 
talents.  His  days  seemed  to  have  been  passed  between 
his  bottle,  his  books,  and  his  rhymes.  Perhaps  his  ad- 
diction to  the  first  might  arise  from  the  cares  which 
overwhelmed  him ;  for  being  a  Catholic  he  is  said  to 
have  suffered  much  for  his  religion,  and  for  the  cause  of 
K.  Charles  I.  who,  according  to  his  own  account,  re- 
warded him  with  a  Baronetage,  dated  about  the  irth  of 
Jan.  1641,  which  was  however  afterwards  disputed  by 
the  OfBcers  of  Arms,  his  patent  not  being  enrolled. 

His  mind  appears  to  have  been  much  cultivated  with 
learning;  and  it  is  clear  that  he  possessed  considerable 
talents:  but  he  exhibits  scarcely  any  marks  of  genius. 
He  is  never  pathetic,  sublime,  or  even  elegant;  but  is 
generally  characterized  by  a  kind  of  familiarity  which  , 
amounts  to  doggrel,  and  frequently  to  flatness  and  insi- 
pidity. Still  it  is  impossible  to  read  notices  of  so  many 
of  his  cotemporaries,  whose  habits  of  life  are  recalled  to 
our  fancies,  without  feeling  a  subordinate  kind  of  plea- 
sure that  gives  these  domestic  rhymes  a  lively  attraction. 
Sir  Aston,  compared  with  most  of  his  associate  authors 
whom  he  commemorates,  displays  a  very  dim  light. 

Yet 


458 

Yet  as  a  country-gentleman  of  an  ancient  family  ana 
good  patrimony,  he  calls  forth  no  small  tribnte  of  re- 
spect from  reflecting  minds,  if  we  compare  hirn  with 
most  of  his  own  class,  who  having  spent  their  lives  in 
sensual  gratifications,  have  done  nothing  to  preserve 
their  names  fiom  the  graves  in  which  their  bodies  are 
buried. 

The  beautiful  scenery  of  the  country,  the  leisure  and 
dignity  of  an  independent  life,  acting  on  a  polished  edu- 
cation, would  seem  in  theory  most  fitted  to  qualify  the 
human  intellect  for  the  utmost  refinement,  and  the  best 
efforts  of  genius.  But  alas  !  how  few  of  ihis  order  make 
use  of  the  great  opportunities  thus  bestowed  upon  them ! 
We  see  them  disdainful  of  books!  insensible  to  works  of 
reason  or  fancy  !  and  malicious  towards  any  among 
themselves,  who  by  any  chance  aspire  to  those  mental 
acquisitions  which  themselves  neglect!  I  am  not  sure 
that  the  manners  have  been  much  mended  since  it  has 
become  the  fashion  for  gentlemen  to  engage  with  such 
ar^toar  in  the  occupation  of  practical  farming.  Defend 
me  from  the  society  of  men,  all  "  whose  talk  is  of 
bullocks,"  and  of  sheep!  I  would  not  be  one  to  follow 
the  ploughman  to  measure  his  furrows,  and  watch  with 
a  suriy  grudge  the  unnecessary  half  hour  he  may  spend 
at  his  meals !  To  men  of  ample  property  and  liberal  edu- 
cation Providence  has  surely  allotted  higher  duties,  and 
more  refined  amusements.  It  matters  little,  whether  I 
turn  bailiff,  or  turn  groom.  If  I  desert  my  station  in  so- 
ciety, let  me  take  the  consequence  of  my  own  degradation, 
and  be  fixed  there,  never  to  rise  again  !  Thrust  me 
among  clod-hoppers  and  stable-boys,  and  let  me  associate 
and  feed  with  them,  as  I  ought.  But  do  not  let  me  in- 
triwle  to  irritate  the  nerves,  or  damp  the  nicer  sense  of 
delight  of  those  who  have  made  use  of  the  talent  God 
has  given  them  as  they  ought !  who  justify  the  station 
ihey  fill  yet  more  by  the  superiority  of  their  employ- 
ments than  by  their  birth  or  fortune! 

In  the  times  of  Sir  Aston  Cokayne,  it  may  be  doubted, 
if  the  minds  of  the  country  gentlemen  were  not  in  an 
higher  stale  of  cultivation  than  they  are  now.  In  truth 
that  class  were  then  of  much  more  honourable  birth  than 

they 


459 

they  are  at  present.  The  century  which  succeeded^  an- 
nihilated an  incredible  number  of  old  families :  an  effect 
of  which  it  is  not  now  the  place  to  inquire  into  the 
causes;  or  whether  these  sourses  were  productive  of  ex- 
clusive evil,  or  were  attended  by  a  large  portion  of  con- 
comitant good.  If  we  look  into  Sir  Aston's  book,  we 
shall  see  scarce  a  family  among  his  friends  in  Derby- 
shire, and  the  surrounding  counties,  who  are  not  of 
known  antiquity.  By  the  manner  in  which  he  speaks 
of  them  they  rather  cherished  and  respected  than  de- 
spised his  Muse.  Would  this  have  been  the  case 
with  modern  gentry,  thfe  spawn  of  the  Stock-Exchange, 
or  of  the  manufacturing  towns,  or  colonies?  Many  pf 
the  same  families  still  remain  in  those  parts,  but  in  the 
overwhelming  numbers  of  mercantile  wealth  they  have 
lost  their  spirit  and  their  power.  I  do  not  despise  com- 
merce; I  know  its  political  value;  but  I  grieve  at  its  at- 
tendant evils  on  the  moral  character  of  society. 

We  are  perhaps  somewhat  measuring  back  our  steps-^- 
we  have  found  out  that  wealth  is  not  the  only  strength 
■of  a  nation:  we  have  found  out  that  "  the  warrior  and 
his  sword"  may  perhaps  be  a  still  more  effectual  preserver 
of  our  safely  and  our  power.  Hence  liberal  professions 
may  once  more  come  into  credit — and  we  may  perhaps 
once  more  discover  that  there  are  other  as  solid  grounds 
of  distinction  as  tho§e  of  the  purse ! 

In  the  times  of  great  convulsions  talent  is  roused. 
Ordinary  faculties  will  be  found  sufficient  fbr  common 
times;  and  then  it  is  that  intrigue  and  corruption  obtain 
promotion  rather  than  high  qualifications.  The  first 
half  of  the  seventeenth  ceritury  brought  forward  a  variety 
pf  splendid  characters  who  had  slept  unnoticed  in  tranquil 
reigns.  Sir  Aston  therefore  even  among  his  own  class 
probably  found  the  intellectual  powers  all  alive  1 — He 
does  not  himself  seem  to  have  taken  an  active  part  in  the 
war  between  the  King  and  the  Parliament.  One  is  apt 
indeed  to  suspect  that  he  wanted  energy  of  character, 
and  was  not  a  little  indulgent  to  his  own  ease !  Perhaps 
it  arose  from  this  that  he  completely  wasted  his  ancient 
patrimony,  and  sold,  both  his  lordships  of  Ashbourne 
and  Pooley. 

Some 


4^0 

Semie  of  the  principal  persons  to  whom  his  Epigrams ' 
are  addressed,  are  the  following.  , 

1.  To  Pbilip  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  his  uncle. 
3.  To  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Olive  Cotton. 

3.  To  his  friend,  Mr.  Herbert  Aston, 

4.  On  his  younger  brother,  Mr.  Tho.  Cokaine. 

5.  To  his  uncle,  Sir  John  Stanhope. 

6.  To  his  cousin,  Charles  Coiton. 

7.  To  his  friend  and  cousin,  Roger  King. 

8.  On  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Eliz.  Stanhope. 
g.  On  his  sister,  the  Lady  Boteler. 

10.  To  his  friend,  Mr.  Marniaduke  Wyvd. 
]  1.  To  his  cousin.  Col.  Ralph  Sneyde. 

12.  To  his  cousin,  the  Lady  Elizabeth  Darcy. 

13.  To  his  friend.  Col.  Edward  Stamford.' 

14.  To  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Cordelia  Harryes. 

15.  To  his  friend,  Mr.  Francis  Lenton. 

16.  To  his  cousin,  William  Milward. 

17.  To  his  friends,  the  two  Col.  William  Bales. 

18.  To  his  cousin>  Robt.  Milward. 

19.  To  his  kinsman,  Henry  Kendal  the  younger. 

20.  To  the  noble  Sir  Anhur  Gorges. 

21.  To  his  wife's  brother,  Sir  Andrew  Knyveton. 

22.  To  his  cousins,  Cromwell,  Byron,  Katcliff,  and  Alexr. 

Stanhope. 

23.  To  his  kinsman,  Sir  John  Reppington. 

24.  To  bis  brother-in-law.  Col.  Wm.  Nevill. 
.26.  To  his  friend,  Mr.  Henry  Thimbleby. 

26.  To  his  friend.  Sir  Wm.  Persal. 

27.  To  his  cousin,  the  Lady  Trentbam. 

28.  To  his  friend,  Robt.  Grosvenor. 

29.  To  his  brother-in-law.  Sir  Francis  Boteler. 

30.  To  Henry  Lord  Hastings,  of  Loughborough. 

31.  To  his  cousin,  Henry  Hastings,  of  Branston. 

32.  To  Charles  Visct.  Cullen. 

33.  On  his  cousin,  Col.  Michael  Stanhope. 

34.  'I'o  his  cousin,  John  Stanhope,  of  Elvaston. 

35.  To  Col.  Ferdinand  Stanhope. 

36.  To  his  wife's  niece,  Mrs.  Eliz.  Pegge. 

37.  To  her  broi  her,  Tho.  Pegge. 

38.  On  Mr.  Isaac  Coe,  of  Lincoln's  Inn. 

39.  On  Humphry  Cumberford. 
■40.  To  his  cousin,  Bryan  Cokaine. 

41.  To  his  lady,  Mrs.  Eliz.  Cokaine. 

42,  To  his  kinsman,  John  Cokaine. 

43.  To 


461 

43.  To  Sir  Robert  Brett. 

44.  To  Mr.  George  Porter. 

45.  To  Mr.  Richard  Grey,  of  Adderston. 

46.  On  his  cousin,  Edwd.  Reppington. 

47.  To  bis  fritnd,  Alexander  Brome. 

48.  To  his  cousins,  Anne,   Eliz,'  Philipia,   and  Dorothy 

Stanhope. 

49.  To  his  uncle-in-law,  Mr.  Ridid.  Sutton. 

50.  To  his  cousins,  Mrs.  Stanhbpe,  and  Mrs.  Isabella  Hut- 

chinson.    >      ,,,, 

51.  To  Mr.  Ralph  R^vvson. 

52.  To  his  cousin,  Lady  Mary  Fitzherbert,  of  Tissington. 

53.  On  Mr.  "Wm.  Davenport,  of  Henbury,  Cheshire. 

54.  To  Mrs.  Eliz.  Spencer. 

55.  On  Mr.  Tho.,  Piliiington,  of  Wolverhampton. 

56.  On' his  sfsters.  Lattice  Armstrong  and  Lucy  Cokaine. 
57;  To  his  cousin,  Tho.  Cokain^,  of  Manciter. 

58.  On  Edw.  Tilsly  and  Arine  Fleetwood. 

59.  To  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Anne  Adams. 

60.  To  his  cousin,  Arthur  Stanhope.  ' 

61.  To  his  wife*s  niece,  Eliz.  Kendall. 

62.  To  his  cousin.  Sir  Francis  Burdet,  Bart. 

63.  To  his  cousin,  Isabella  Milward. 

64.  On  Mr,  Ralph  Fitzherbert. 

65.  On  his  vifife's  sister,  Kath.  Pegge. 

66.  To  Eliz.  Nevill,  his  wife's  sister. 

67.  To  Francis  Shalcross,  and  Julia  Boteler,  his  niece, 

68.  To  Gilbert  and  Thos.  Knyveton,  his  wife's  brothers. 
6C).  To  his  sister  Kath.  Weston. 

'70.  On  Peter  AUiborid,  of  Lincoln  Coll.  Oxf. 

71.  To  his  niece,  Isabella  Boteler. 

72.  On  his  father  Tho.  Cokaine. 

73.  On  Ferdinando,  Earl  of  Huntingdon. 

74.  To  Sir  Robt.  Hilliard. 

75.  To  bis  cousin,  Basil  Fitzherbert,  of  Norbury. 

76.  To  his  daughter,  Mary  Cokaine. 

77-  To  his  kinsman,  Wingfield  Cromwell,  Earl  of  Ardglas?. 

78.  To  his  friend,  Henry  Turville, 

79.  To  his  cousin,  John  Adams. 

80.  To  his  friend,  Cassivelan  Burton. 

81.  To  Henry  Longville. 

82.  To  Eobt.  Creitton,  D.D. 
88.  To  Edmond  Ravenhill. 

84.  To  his  kinsman,  Edward  Darcy. 

86.  To  his  brother-in-law,  William  Nevill. 

36.  To 


46z 

86.  To  Alice  Nevill,  his  sister. 

87.  To  Ann  and  Mildred  Nevill,  her  daughters. 

88.  To  his  friend.  Major  Wm.  Warner. 

89.  On  Eliz.  Lady  Reppington. 

90.  On  Mr.  John  Reppington. 

91.  To  his  cousin,  Charles  Hutchinson. 

92.  To  his  kinsman,  Francis  Fitzherbert,  of  Lincolns'Inn. 

93.  To  his  cousin,  Wm.  Stanhope,  the  younger. 
9-1.  To  his  mother,  Ann  Cokaine." 

After  our  poet  had  sold  his  lordship  of  Pool ey  to 
Humphry  Jennings,  Esq.  and  his  lordship  of  Ashbourne 
to  Sir  William  Boothby,  Bart,  he  retired  to  Derby,  where 
he  died  on  the  breaking  of  the  great  frost  in  Feb.  1685, 
at  the  age  of  seventy-five. 

Wood  says  he  translated  into  English  an  excellent 
Italian  Romance,  called  Dianea,  1654. 

I  refer  for  a  character  of  his  Comedies  to  the  Bh-^ 
graphia  Dramatica. 

His  Masque  at  Brelhj  is  reprinted  in  the  third 
volume  of  the  Topographer;  where  also  may  be  found 
several  of  his  Epigrams. 

The  above  list  of  his  connections  may  not  be  uninte- 
resting to  the  families  to  whom  they  belong. 

In  any  other  work  than  such  as  the  present.  Sir  Aston 
scarcely  deserves  the  notice  he  has  here  obtained.  But  I 
believe  that  his  book  is  scarce,  and  it  contains  many 
notices  of  ages  that  are  passed  away.  It  is  some  en- 
couragement to  literature,  that  even  its  amateurs  can 
thus  have  their  fame  revived,  after  it  has  slept  for  nearly 
a  century  and  an  half.  I  love  in  my  fancy  to  assemble 
round  Sir  Astoii,  his  boon  companions,  and  to  Jisten  to 
his  mingled  bursts  of  wit  and  raillery  and  literature  and 
verse.  But  how  inferior  was  he  in  genius  and  acquire- 
ments, in  that  pure  stream  of  natural  and  touching 
sentiment  which  is  one  of  the  first  attractions  of  unso- 
phisticated genius,  to  his  younger  cousin,  Charles  Cotton, 
a  man  equally  careless  in  his  fortunes,  but  of  a  refined 
and  exquisite  heart,  who  possessed  much  of  the  nicer 
and  more  tender  vein  pf  Cowpcr,  which  might  have  dis- 
played itself  in  similar  compositions  had  the  age  and 
his  own  unpardonable  haste  allowed  it.  But  he  too  lived 
a  life  of  pecuniary  embarrassment,  productive  of  cares, 
which  chilled  and  froze  up  the  Pierian  fountain  of  his 

bosom ! 


4^3  '       ' 

bosom !  That  bosom  was  a  well-spring  of  genuine  poetry, 
which  scattered  its  waters  without  economy  or  thought.* 

B. 

%  La  Dance  Machahre,  or  Death's  Dwell :  hj  W.  C. 
London:  Printed  by  William  Stanshy.  n.  d.  lamo. 
pp.  7  j,  without  introduction. 

An  engraved  title  page:  the  above  words  on  a  central 
curtain,  upheld  by  two  angels;  beneath,  time  on  the 
globe,  with  his  scythe,  as  in  motion.  Up  the  sides  eight 
ovals,  with  crowded  figures,  representing  several-different 
estates  of  mankind,  from  the  monarch  and  pope  to  the 
laborious  delver:  death,  as  in  triumph,  surmounteth  the 
angels,  and  the  eternal  glory  is  seen  through  an  arch  at 
the  top.  The  crest  and  arms  of  the  author  occupy  two 
corners.  On  a  preceding,  leaf  a  few  lines  describe  "  the 
mind  of  the  front,"  which  is  executed  with  extraordinary 
spirit  and  minuteness  by  T.  Cecill. 

There  is  a  prose  Epistle  Dedicatory,  which  is  iti 
French,  addressed,  "  a  la  Royne,"  and  followed  by 
some  English  verses  to  the  same  person,  inscribed  "  to 
the  great  Empresse  of  our  little  world,"  craving  patron- 
age for  the  "  first  piece  ventured  on  the  stage  since  you 
were  bur's."  These  lines  are  subscribed,  "  your  highnesse 
most  humble  seruant  and  subiect,  W.  Colman."  The 
reader,  in  a  poem  by  "  the  authour  to  his  booke,"  is 
told, 

"  Though  not  perform'd  with  that  poeticke  fire 
The  nicenesse  of  our  present  times  inspire; 
He  spoyles  the  operation  of  a  pill, 
Conformeth  it  vnto  the  patients  will," 

Commendatory  Verses  from  John  Peashall;  E.  H.;  Tho- 
mas Veridicus;  Jatnes  Sherlie;  and  John  Crompton.  The 
poem  of  "  Death's  Duell"  extends  to  262  stanzas.  The  fol- 
lowing will  shew  the  numbers  and  manner  of  execution. 

"  What  though  thy  house  be  sumptuous,  and  thy  fare. 
Thy  wife  both  vertuous,  beautifull,  and  wise, 

*  The  writer  of  this  article  seizes  the  space  of  the  present  note 
to  return  his  warm  and  unaffected  thanks  to  Musarum  Amatar, 
from  Brechin,  for  a  Sonnet,  too  flattering  for  him  to  print.  Such 
encouragement  is  not  lost  upon  him  ;  "  the  dew  of  praise"  is  a 
most  "  fostering  food." 

Thy 


464 

Thy  children  hopefoll  and  obedient  are. 
Thy  seruants  most  obsequious  in  Iheir  guise. 

Thy  cofFers  fulJ,  thy  lordships  round  about  thee, 
Yet  thou  must  gpe  and  they  must  stay  without  thee. 
And  these  vpon  thy  death-bed  shall  appeare 
Like  to  so  many  glorious  miseries. 
Or  like  an  office  thou  didst  lately  beare, 
Transferr'd  t'  another  roan  before  thine  eyes: 
For  certaine  tis  what  chiefly  doth  content  thee. 
In  that  sad  house  to  leaue  shall,  most  torment  thee. 
Then  the  deboist  disorders  of  thy  youth, 
Th'  vniust  detayning  of  anothers  right  j 
Supported  more  by  strong  hand  then  by  truth. 
As  done  but  yesterday,  before  thy  sight 

In  hideous  formes  appeare,  which  being  well 
Thou  hadst  no  time  to  tfainke  on}  there's  thy  hell. 
Much  like  a  pamper'd  iade  grown  belly-proud. 
Flings  vp  his  heeles,  and  his  owne  master  strikes, 
Contemnes  his  poore  companions,  who  allow'd 
No  more  then  what  they  dearely  earne,  dislikes 
Their  milde  condition,  and  through  wantonnesse 
Feeds  on  the  best  of  their  deare  purchased  gresse. 
Aspiring  thoughts  abpue  our  fortunes  soare. 
And  true  content,  man's  chiefest  happinesse. 
By  emulation  is  shut  out  of  doare. 
Valuing  our  wants  by  other  mens  excesse  ; 

We  glance  at  those  in  worth  and  wealth  out  goe  vs. 
Regarding  not  how  many  walke  below  vs. 
Disturbe  not  thine  owne  quiet  with  a  thought. 
Of  what  thou  wast,  or  what  thou  might'st  haue  bin, 
Aduancement  comes  neglected  and  not  sought. 
As  monkayes  with  the  chaines  they  are  ti'de  in. 
Play  with  the  common  corrasiues  of  fate. 
Which  as  they  had  beginnings  haue  their  date. 
For  iust  Heay'n  guilty  of  no  ill  at  all, 
From  the  beginning  hath  contriu'd  it  so. 
That  in  all  ages  some  shall  rise,  some  fall ; 
The  goods  of  fortune  wander  to  and  fro 
From  man  to  man,  and  as  the  poet  sings. 
Kings  come  from  beggars,  beggars  come  fro"  Kings," 
At  the  end  of  the  volume  are  elegies  by  Colman  on  George 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury  5  the  Lady  Marchioness  of  Winchester, 
daughter  of  Thomas  Lord  Savage ;  William  Lord  Paget,  Baron 
of  Beaudesertj  and  Sir  John  Beaumont,  Baronet.  .Also  "the 
authors   applogie  for  the  title  of  his  booke  iniuriously  con- 
ferd  by  Roger  Muchill  vpon  a  sermon  of  Doctor  Donnes:" 
with  an  epitaph  on  same  R.  M.  *  * 


4% 

^  The  Secrets  of  Angling:  teaching  the  choicest  TooteSt 
Baits  and  Seasons,  for  the  taking  of  any  Fish,  in 
Pond  or  River :  practised,  and  familiarly  opened  in 
three  Boohes.  By  J.  X>.  Esquire.  Augmented  with 
many  approved  experiments.  By  W.  Lauson.  Lon- 
don, Printed  by  T.  H.  for  John  Harison,  and  are 
to  he  sold  hy  Francis  Coles  at  his  shop  in  the  Old 
Bayly.  \6^2.  (i2mo.)  * 


"  In  diie  Praise  of  his  Praise -ivor thy  Skill  and  JVorket 

"  In  skils  that  all  do  seek,  but  few  do  find 

Both  gain  &  game;  (like  sun  &  moon  do  shine) 
Then  th'  Art  of  fishing  thus,  is  of  that  kind; 
The  Angler  taketh  both  with  hook  and  line. 
And  as  with  lines,  both  these  he  takes  ;  this  takes 
With  many  a  line,  well  made,  both  ears  &  hearts. 
And  by  this  skill,  the  skil-lesse  skilfull  makes  : 
The  corpes  whereof  dissected  so  he  parts. 
Upon  an  humble  subject  never  lay, 
More  proud,  yet  plainer  lines,  the  plain  to  lead. 
This  plainer  Art  with  pleasure  to  survay. 
To  purchase  it  with  profit,  by  that  DEEb : 
Whd  think  this  skill's  too  low  than  for  the  high. 
This  Angler  read,  and  they'le  be  taine  thereby. 

Jo.  Daves.'* 

"  Ta  the  worthy,  and  my  respected  Friend,  Mr.  lohti 
Harlorne  ofTackley,  in  the  County  of  Oxford^  Es- 
quir^. 

"  Worthy  Sir; 
"  This  poem  being  sent  unto  me  to  be  printed  after  the 
death  of  tlje  authour,  who  intended  to  have  done  it  in  his  life, 
but  was  pwfvented  by  death :  I  could  not  amorig  my  good 
friends,  bethink  me  of  any  one  to  whom  1  might  more  fitly 
dedicate  it  ^s  well  for  the  nature  of  the  subject,  in  which 
you  delight,  as  to  express  my  love)  than  to  your  selfe.  I  find 
it  not  only  savouring  of  art  and  honesty,  two  things  now 
strangers  unto  many  authours,  but  also  both  pleasant  aiid 
profitable;  antj  being  loath  to  see  a  thing  of  such  value  lie 
iildden  is  obscurity,  whilst  matters  of  no  moment  pester  the 

*  From  the  uncommon  rarity  of  this  work  >»e  h*ve  been  in- 
duced to  reprin^  it  entire. 

Yot.  11.    '  H  H  stalls 


466 

stalls  of  every  stationer.:.  I  therefore  make  bold  to  publish  H, 
.for  the  benefit  aiid  delight  of  allj  trusting  that  I  shall  neither 
thereby  disparage  the  authdnrj  nor  dislike  them.  I  need  not, 
I  thinke  apologize  either  the  use  of  the  subject,  or  for  that  it 
is  reduced  into  the  nature  of  a  poeme,  for  as  touching  the  last 
(in  that  it  is  in  verse)  somecount  it  by  so  much  the  more  de- 
lightfull ;  and  I  hold  it  every  way  as.fit  a  subject  for.  poetry  as 
husbandry:  and  touching  the  first;  if  Hunting  and  Hav/king 
have  beene  thought  worthy  delights,  and  arts  to  be  instructed 
in,  I  make  no  doubt  but  this  Art  of  Angling  is  much  more 
worthy  practice  and  approbation ;  for  it  is  a  sport  every  way  as 
pleasant,  lesse  chargeable,  more  profitable,  and  nothing  so 
much  subject  to  choUer  oi  impatience  as  those  are:  you  shall 
finde  it  more  briefly,  pleasantly,  and  more  exactly  performed, 
then  any  of  this  kinde  heretofore.  Therefore  I  referre  you  to 
the  perusing  thereof,  and  my  selfe  to  your  good  opinion,  which 
I  tender  as  that  I  hold  nic,st  deare ;  ever  remaining  at 
Your  gentle  command, 

R.  I. 

"  To  the  Reader. 

"  It  may  seeme  in  me  presumption  to  adde  this  little  com- 
ment to  the  work  of  so.  worthy  an  author.  But  Mr.  Harrison 
the  stationers  request  and  desire-  to  give  his  couptry  satisfac-< 
Lion,  iTiust  be  satisfied,  and  in  it  my  selfe  rest  excu.'-ed.  What 
mine  observations  are,  I  refer  to  censure  :  assuredly,  the  truth 
stands  on  so  'well  grounded  experience,  that  but  my  haste, 
nothing  can  do  them  injury.  What  to  me  is, doubtful!,  I  have, 
■as  I  can,  explained :  what  wants,  in  my  judgement,  1  have 
supplied  as  the  time  would  suffer:  what  I  passe  by,I  approve. 
The  authour  by  verse  hath  expressed  much  learning,  and  by 
his  Answer  to  the  Objection,  shewn  himselfe  to  have  been 
vertuous.  The  subject  it  selfe  is  honest,  and  pleasant,  and 
'sometimes  pvofilable.    Use  it,  and  give  God  all  glory.    Amen. 

W.  Lauson.'' 

"  2'he  Contents. 
The  first  Bopke  containeth  these  Heads. 

i .  The  Antiquity  of  Angling,  with  the  Art  cf  Fishing,  and  of 
Fishing  in  gfenerall.  '    ■  -' 

2,  The  lawfulnesse,  pleasure,  and  profit  thereof,  \vith  all  ob- 
jections, answered  against  it. 

3.  To 


46; 

S.  To,  know  the  seasori>  and  times  to  provide  the  tooles,  ,and 
how  to  cbuse  the  best,  and  the  maner  how  toimake  them  fit 
to  take  each  severall  Fish. 

The  second  Booke  qontaineth : 

1.  The  Angler's  experience,  how  to  use  his  tools  and  baits,  to 
make  prcifit  by  his  game, 

2.  What  Fish  is  not  taken  with  Angle,  and  what  is :  and 
what  is  best  for  health. 

3.  In  what  "Waters  and  Riv6rs  to  find  each  Fishi 

'    The  third  Booke  containeth  : 

■  ;  r  ■ 

1.  The  twelve  Vertues  and  Qualities  which  ought  to  be  in 
every  Angler. 

2.  What  weather,  seasons,  and  time  of  the  yeare  is  best  and 
"  worst,  and  what  houres  of  the  day  is  best  for  sport. 

3.  To  know  each  Fishes  haunt,  and  the  times  to  take  them. 
Also  an  obscure  secret  of  an  approved  bait  tending  thereunto. 

"  The  First  Booke. 

"  Of  Angling,  and  the  Art  thereof  I  sing. 
What  kind  of  toolcs  it  doth  behove  to  have ; 
And  with  what  pleasing  bait  a  man  may  bring, 
The  fish  to,  bite  within  the  watry  wave  : 
A  work  of  thanks  to  such  as  in  a  thing 
Of  harmlesse  pleasure  have  regard  to  save 

Their  dearest  soules  from  sin,  and  may  intend 
. '         Of  pretious  time  some  part  thereon  to  spend. 

You  Nimphs  that  in  the  springs  and  waters  sweet 
i   Your  dwellings  have,  of  every  hill  and  dale. 
And  oft  amidst  the  meadows  green  do  meet 
To  sport  and  play,  and  hear  the  nightingale, 
,  And  in  the  rivers  fresh  do  wash  your  feet. 
While  Progne's  sister  tels  her  wofuU  tale : ' 
,     Such  ayd  and  power  unto  my  verses  lend. 
As  may  suffice  this  little  worke  to  end. 

And  thou  sweet  Boyd*  that  with  thy  watry  sway 
Dost  wash'the  cHffes  of  Deington  and  of  Week, 
And  through  their  rocks,  with  crooked  winding  way, 
Thy  mother  Avon  run  nest  soft  to  seek  : 
In  whose  fair  streams  the  speckled  trout  doth  play, 
The  roch,  the  dace,  the  gudgin,  and  the  bleike  : 

•  The  name  of  a  brooke. 

H  H  2  T^aGjj 


468 

Teach  me  the  skill  with  slender  line  and  hook. 
To  take  each  fish  of  river,  pond,  and  brook. 


The  time  for  providing  Angle  Rods. 

First,  when  the  sun  beginneth  to  decline 
Southward  his  course,  with  his  faire  chariot  bright!. 
And  passed  hath  heaven  the  middle  line. 
That  makes  of  equall  length  both  day  and  night j 
And  left  behind  his  back  the  dreadful!  signe 
Of  cruell  Centaure,  slain  in  drunken  fight; 

When  beasts  do  mourn,  and  birds  forsake  their  song. 
And  every  creature  thinks  the  night  too  long. 
And  blustrjng  Boreas  with  his  chilling  cold. 
Unclothed  hath  the  trees  of  summers  green. 
And  woods,  and  groves  are  naked  to  behold. 
Of  leaves  and  branches  now  dispoyled  clean  5 
So  that  their  fruitfull  stocks  they  do  unfold. 
And  lay  abroad  their  offspring  to  be  seen  ; 

Where  nature  shews  her  great  increase  of  kind 
To  such  as  seek  her  tender  shutes  to  finde. 

Then  go  in  some  great  Arcadian  wood. 
Where  store  of  ancient  hazels  do  abound. 
And  seeke  among  their  springs  and  tender  brood. 
Such  sheutes  as  are  the  straightest,  long  and  round; 
And  of  them  all  (store  up  what  you  think  good) 
But  fairest  choose,  the  smoothest  and  most  sound }. 
So  that  they  do  not  two  years  growth  exceed. 
In  shape  and  beauty  like  the  Belgick  reedi 
These  prune  and  cleanse  of  every  leafe  and  spray,. 
Yet  leave  the  tender  top  remaining  still ; 
Then  home  with  thee  go  beare  them  safe  away. 
But  perish  not  the  rine  and  utter  pill ;  • 
And  on  some  even  boarded  floore  ihem  lay,  f 
Where  they  may  dry  and  season  at  their  fill : 

And  place  upon  their  crooked  parts  some  waight 
To  presse  them  dawncj  and  keep  them  plaine  aijd- 
straight. 

•  Beath  them  a  Kttfe,  except  the  top,  all  in  a  furnace,  they  will 
be  lighter,  and  not  vop-heavy  :  which  is  a  great  fault  in  a  rod. 

t  Tie  them  together  at  every  bought,  and  they  will  keep  one 
iWiother  ftij.ight. 

So 


469 

to  shalt  thou  have  alwayes  in  store  the  best, 
And  fittest  rods  to  serve  thy  turne  aright  5 
for  not  the  brittle  kane,  nor  all  the  rest, 
I  like  so  well,  though  it  be  long  and  light. 
Since  that  the  Fish  are  frighted  with  the  least 
Aspect  of  any  glittering  thing,  or  white :  • 
Nor  doth  it  by  one  halfe  so  well  incline. 
As  doth  the  plyant  rod  to  save  the  line,  f 


To  make  the  Line. 

Then  get  good  hmre,  so  that  it  be  not  black. 
Neither  of  mare  nor  gelding  let  it  be  : 
Nor  of  the  tireling  jade  that  bears  the  pack ; 
But  of  some  lusty  horse  or  courser  free. 
Whose  bushy  caile  upon  the  ground  doth  track. 
Like  blazing  comet  that  sometime  we  see  : 
From  out  the  midst  thereof  the  longest  take, 
At  leasure  best  your  links  and  lines  to  make. 
Then  twist  them  finely  as  you  think  most  meet. 
By  skill  or  practice  easie  to  be  found ; 
As  doth  Ariadne  with  her  slender  feet  % 
Draw  fbrth  her  little  thread  along  the  ground. 
But  not  too  hard  or  slack,  the  mean  is  sweet. 
Lest  slackt  they  snarl,  or  hard  thtjy  prove  unsound. 
And  intermix  with  silver,  silke,  or  gold. 
The  tender  haires,  the  better  so  to  hold.  § 

»  White  or  gray  are  likest  the  sky,  and  therefore  of  all  other 
colours  offend  the  least. 

t  Besides  the  fish  discernes  it,  and  are  put  away  with  the 
stiffnesse  of  the  rod  :  whereas  on  tbe  contrary,  the  weake  rod 
yields  liberty  to  the  fish,  without  suspition,  to  run  away  with  the 
bait  at  his  pleasure. 

X  Knit  the  haires  you  mean  to  put  in  one  link,  at  the  rod's 
end,  and  divide  them  as  equally  as  you  can,  put  your  three  lowest 
fingers  betwixt,  and  twine  the  knot,  and  your  link  shal  be  equally 
twist ;  if  you  wet  your  hair,  it  will  twine  better.  A  nimble  hand, 
a  weak  and  light  rod,  that  may  be  easily  guided  with  one  hand, 
need  but  four  or  five  hairs  at  the  most,  for  the  greatest  river  fish, 
though  a  salmon  or  luce,  so  you  have  length  enough,  and  except 
the  luce  and  salmon  three  will  suffice. 

§  Intermixing  with  silver  or  gold,  is  not  good  :  because,  first 
the  thread  and  hatre  are  not  of  equall  reach. 

Secondly,  the  colours  differing  from  the  hairs,  or  flye,  affrights 
ihefish. 

Thirdly,  they  will  not  bed  and  twist  with  the  hairs. 

H  H  3  Theii 


47° 

Thep  end  to  end  as  falleth  to  their  loti:  ; 
Let  all  yonr  links  in  order  as  they  lye. 
Be  knit, together,  with  that  fisher's  knot. 
That  will  not  slip  or  with  the  wet  untye  : 
And  at  the  lowest  end  forget  it  not. 
To  leave  a  bout  or  compasse  like  an  eye, 

Thelinke  that  holds  your  hook  to  hang  upon. 
When  you  thinke  good  to  take  it  off  and  on.  * 
Which  linke  must  neither  be  so  great  nor  strongs 
Nor  like  of  colour  as  the  others  were ;  t 
Scant  halfe  so'big,  so  that  it  be  as  long : 
Of  grayest  hue,  and  of  the  soundest  haire. 
Lest  while  it  hangs  the  liquid  waves  among,"" 
The  sight  thereof  the  wary  fish  should  feare  . 
And  at  one  end  a  loope  or  compasse  fine 
To  fasten  to  the  other  of  your  line. 


Corke. 


Then  take  good  corke  so  much  as  shall  suffice 
Foir  every  line  to  make  his  swimmer  fit,  :J 
And  where  the  midst  and  thickest  parts  do  rise, 
,    There  burn  a  round  small  hole  quite  thorow  it. 
And  put  therein  a  quill  of  equal  size. 
But  take  good  heed  the  corke  you  do  not  slit : 

Then  round  or  square  with  rasor  pare  it  near, 

Piraraid-wise,  or  like  a  slender  peare. 

The  smaller  end  doth  serve  to  sink  more  light. 
Into  the  water  with  the  plummets  sway  j 
The  greater  swims  aloft  and  stands  upright. 
To  keep  the  line  and  bayt  at  even  stay, 

*  An  upper  end  also,  to  pat  it  too  and  fro  the  rod. 
t  The  same  colour:  (to  wit  gray  like  the  sky)  the  like  bignes 
and  strength,  is  good  for  all  the  line  and  every  linke  thereof, 
weight  is  hurtful),  so  unequal!  strength  causeth  the  weakest  to 
breake. 

J  I  utterly  dislike  your  southern  corks.  First  for  they  affright 
the  fish,  in  the  bite  and  sight,  and  because  they  follow  not  so 
kipdiy  the  nimble  rod  and  hand.  Secondly,  they  breed  weight  to 
the  line,  which  puts  it  in  danger,  and  hinders  the  nimble  jerk  of 
tlje  rod,  and  loades  the  arm.  A  good  eye  and  hand  may  easily 
(iiscern  the  bite. 

That 


471 

That  when  the  fish  begins  to  nib  and  bite. 
The  moving  of  the  float  doth  them  bewray : 
These  may  you  place  upon  your  lines  at  will, 
And  stop  them  with  a  white  and  handsome  quill. 


Hoolis. 


Then  buy  your  hooks  the  finest  and  the  best 
That  may  be  had  of  such  as  use  to  sell,  * 
And  from  the  greatest  to  the  very  least,     ' 
Of  every  sort  pick  out  and  choose  them  well,  ■ 
Such  as  in  shape  and  making  passe  the  rest. 
And  do  for  strength  and  soundnesse  most  excell : 
Then  in  a  little  box  of  driest  wood 
From  rust  and  canker  keep  them  faire  and  good. 

That  hooke  I  love  that  is  incompast  round 
Like  to  the  print  that  Pegasus  did  make. 
With  horned  hoof'e  upon  Thessalian  ground ; 
From  whence  forthwith  Pernassus  spring  out  brake 
That  doth  in  pleasant  waters  so  abound. 
And  of  the  Muses  oft  the  thirst  doth  slake,  ' 
Who  on  his  fruitfuU  bankes  do  sit  and  sing. 
That  all  the  world  of  their  sweet  tunes  doth  ring,  f 

•  I  use  to  make  mine  own  hooks,  so  shall  I  have  them  of  the 
best  Spanish  and  Millan  needles,  of  what  size  bent  or  sharpness, 
and  I  like  as  I  need.  Soften  your  needles  i}\  an  hot  fire  in  a  chafer. 

The  Instruments.     First,  an  hold -fast. 

Secondly,  an  hammer  to  flat  the  place  for  the  beard." 

Thirdly,  a  file  to  make  the  beard,  and  sharpen  the  point. 

Fourthly,  a  bender,  viz.  a  pin  bended,  put  in  the  end  of  a 
stick,  an  handful!  long,  thus,  |  (3 

When  they  are  made,  lap  them  in  the  end  of  a  wier,  and  heat 
them  againe,  and  temper  them  in  oyle  or  butter. 

f  The  best  form  for  ready  striking  and  sure  holding  and 
strength,  is  a  strait  and  somewhat  long,  shankc  and  strait  nib'd, 
with  a  little  compasse,  not  round  in  any  wise  fqr  it  nei- 

ther strikes  surely  nor  readily,  but  is  weak,  Jas.  having 

too  great  a  compasse  :  some  use  to  batter  the  ^^"— ^upper  end 
thus  to  hold  (,„_=«.,.  tlie  faster:  but  good  thred  or  siike,  good  band 
»iay.raakeit  j  fast  enough,  it  is  botcherly,   hinders 'the 

biting     and        ^^*^  sometimes  cuts  the  line. 

H   H  4  Or 


472 

Or  as  Thaumantis,  when  she  list  to  shroud 
Her  selfe  against  the  parching  sunny  ray. 
Under  the  mantle  of  some  stormy  cloud, 
"Where  she  her  sundry  colours  doth  display. 
Like  Junoes  bird,  of  her  fair  garments  proud. 
That  Phoebus  gave  her  on  her  marriage  day  : 
Shews  fortfi  her  goodly  circle  fair  and  wide. 
To  mortall  wights  that  wonder  at  her  pride. 
His  shank  should  neither  be  too  short  nor  long, 
His  point  not  over  sharp,  nor  yet  too  dull :  * 
The  substance  good  that  may  indure  from  wrong : 
His  needle  slender,  yet  both  round  and  full. 
Made  of  the  right  Iberian  mettall  strong. 
That  will  not  stretch,  nor  break  at  every  pull : 

Wrought  smooth  andcleane  withouten  crack  or  knot. 
And  bearded  like  the  wild  Arabian  goat. 

Then  let  your  hook  be  sure  and  strongly  plac't 
Unto  your  lowest  linke  with  silke  or  haire. 
Which  you  may  do  with  often  overcast. 
So  that  you  draw  the  bowts  together  neare. 
And  with  both  ends  make  all  the  others  fast. 
That  no  bare  place  or  rising  knot  appeare; 
Then  on  that  linke  hang  leads  of  even  weight 
To  raise  your  float,  and  carry  down  your  bait. 

Thus  have  you  rod,  line,  float  and  hook  ; 
The  rod  to  strike  when  you  shall  think  it  fit. 
The  line  to  lead  the  fish  with  wary  skill. 
The  float  and  quill  to  warn  you  of  the  bit ; 
The  hook  to  hold  him  by  the  chap  or  gill. 
Hook,  line  and  rod,  all  guided  to  your  wit. 
Yet  there  remainesof  fishing-tooles  to  tell. 
Some  other  sorts  that  you  must  have  as  well. 


Other  fishing-tooles. 
A  little  board,  the  lightest  you  can  find.f 
But  not  so  thin  that  it  will  break  or  bend. 
Of  cypres  sweet,  or  of  some  other  kind, 
That  like  a  trencher  shall  it  selfe  extend: 

*  He  meanes  the  hooke  may  be  too  weake  at  the  point,  it  can- 
jiot  be  too  sharpe  if  the  mettall  be  good  Steele. 

t  Or  winde  them  on  two  or  three  of  your  fingers,  like  an  Oruh- 
Arions  string. 

Made 


473 

Made  smooth  and  plain  your  lines  thereon  to  wind 
With  battlements  at  every  other  end  : 

Like  to  the  bulwarke  of  some  ancient  townCj 
As  wel'-wall'd  Sykhester  now  razed  downe. 
A  shooe  to  bear  the  crawling  worms  therein. 
With  hole  above  to  hang  it  by  your  side,  * 
A  hollow  cane  that  must  be  light  and  thin. 
Wherein  the  Bob  and  Palmer  shall  abide. 
Which  must  be  stopped  with  an  handsome  piDj 
•Lest  out  againe  your  baits  do  hap  to  slide. 
A  little  box  that  covered  close  shall  lie. 
To  keep  therein  the  busie  winged  flie. 
Then  must  you  have  a  plummet,  formed  round. 
Like  ts  the  pellet  of  a  bird  ng  bow  :  f 
Wherewith  you  may  the  secret'st  waters  sound. 
And  set  your  float  thereafter,  high  or  low. 
Till  you  the  depth,  thereof  have  truly  found. 
And  on  the  same  a  twisted  thread  bestow. 
At  your  own  will,  to  hang  it  on  your  hook. 
And  S0  to  let  it  down  into  the  brook. 

Of  lead  likewise,  yet  must  you  have  a  ring. 
Whose  whole  diameter  in  length  contains  X 
Three  inches  full,  and  fastned  to  a  string 
That  must  be  long  and  sure,  if  need  constrains: 
Through  whose  round  hole  you  shall  your  angle  bring. 
And  let  it  fall  into  the  Watry  plains, 

Untill  he  come  the  weeds  and  sticks  unto. 
From  whence  your  hooke  it  serveth  to  undo. 

Have  tools  good  store  to  serve  your  turn  withal]. 
Lest  that  you  happen  some  to  lose  or  breaker 
As  in  great  waters  oft  it  doth  befall, 

*  Worme  poake  of  cloath,  or  boxes, 
■f-  A  plummef  you  neede  noir,  for  your  line  being  well  leaded, 
and  without  a  float,  will  try  your  depths.     When  the  lead  above 
your  hooke  comes  to  the  earth,  the  line  will  leave  sinking. 

+  That  is  good,  but  a  forked  i-od  about  two  yards  long  is 
better:  when  your  hooke  is  fastned  in  the  water,  take  a  rod  thus 
fashioned. 


and  put  the  line  in  the  forke,<and  so  follow  down  to  your  hooke, 
and  so  letting  your  line  be  somewhat  slack,  move  your  forke  too 
and  fro.  especially  downwards,  and  so  shall  your  hooke  be  loose. 

When 


474 

When  that  the  hooke  is  nought,  or  line  too  yeake. 
And  waxed  thread,  or  silke  so  it  be  srnall. 
To  set  them  on,  that  if  you  list  to  wieake 
Your  former  losse,  you  may  supply  the  place. 
And  not  returne  with  sorrow  and  disgrace. 

Have  twist  likewise,  so  that  it  be  not  white,  * 
Your  rod  to  mend,  or  broken  top  to  tye; 
For  all  white  colours  do  the  fishes  fright, 
And  make  them  from  the  bait  away  to  flye  :   , 
A  file  to  mend  your  hooks,  both  small  and  light, 
A  good  sharp  knife  your  girdle  hnging  by:. 
A  pouch  with  many  parts  and  purses  thiu. 
To  carry  all  your  tooles  and  trinkets  in. 

Yet  must  you  have  a  little  rip  beside 
Of  willow  twigs,  the  finest  you  can  wish. 
Which  shall  be  made  so  handsome  and  so  wide 
As  may  contain  good  store  of  sundry  fish : 
And  yet  with  ease  be  hanged  by  your  side. 
To  bring  them  home  the  better  to  your  dish. 
A  little  net  that  on  a  pole  shall  stand. 
The  mighty  pike  or  heavy  carpe  to  land. 


His  severall  Tooles,  and  what  Garment  is  fittest. 

And  let  your  garments  russet  be  or  gray. 
Of  colour  darke,  and  hardest  to  discry. 
That  with  the  raine  or  weather  will  away. 
And  least  otFend  the  fearfull  fishes  eye : 
For  neither  scarlet,  nor  rich  cloth  of  ray. 
Nor  colours  dipt  of  fresh  Assyrian  dye. 

Nor  tender  silkes,  of  purple,  paule,  of  gold. 
Will  serve  so  well  to  keep  off"  wet  or  cold. 
In  tlvs  array  the  Angler  good  shall  go 
Unto  the  brooke  to  find  his  wished  game  j 
Like  old  Menalchus  wandring  to  and  fro, 
Untill  he  chance  to  light  upon  the  same. 
And  there  his  ait  and  cunning  shall  bestow. 
For  every  fisli  his  bait  so  well  to  frame, 
That  long  ere  Phoebus  set  in  western  fome. 
He  shall  return  well  loadeu  to  his  home. 

•  White  and  gray  is  good,  answering  the  colours  of  the  skie. 

Objection, 


475 

■     Objection. 

Some  youthfull  gallant  here  perhaps  will  say 
This  is  no  pastime  for  a  gentleman, 
It  were  more  fit  at  cards  and  dice  to  play. 
To  use  both  fence  and  dancing  now  and  than, 
Or  walkthe  streets  in  nice  and  strange  array, 
Or  with  coy  phrases  court  his  mistris  fan : 
A  poor  delight,  with  toyl  and  painfull  watch. 
With  losse  of  time  a  silly  fish  to  catch.  , 

What  pleasure  can  it  be  to  walk  about 
The  fields  and  meads,  in  heat  or  pinching  cold. 
And  stand  all  day  to  catch  a  silly  trout. 
That  is  not  worth  a  teaster  to  be  sold. 
And  peradventure  sometimes  go  without : 
Besides  the  toyls  and  troubles  manifold  : 

And  to  be  washt  with  many  a  showre  of  rain. 
Before  he  can  return  from  thence  again? 

More  ease  it  were,  and  more  delight  I  trow. 
In  some  sweet  house  to  pisse  the  time  away^ 
Amongst  the  best  with  brave  and  gallant  show. 
And  with  fair  dames  to  daunce,  to  sport,  and  play. 
And  on  the  board  the  nimble  dice  to  throw. 
That  brings  in  gain,  and  helps  the  shot  to  pay; 
And  with  good  wine,  and  store  of  dainty  fare. 
To  feed  at  will,  and  take  but  little  care. 


^  worthy  Ansiuer. 

I  mean  not  here  mens  errours  to  reprove. 
Nor  do  I  envy  their  seeming  happy  state; 
But  rather  maryell  why  they  do  not  loue 
An  honest  sport,  that  is  without  debatej 
Since  their  abused  pastimes  often  move 
Their  mindes  to  anger,  and  to  mortall  hate : 

And  as  in  bad  delights  their  time  they  spend. 

So  oft  it  brings  them  to  no  better  end. 
Indeed  it  is  a  life  of  lesser  pain. 
To  sit  at  play  from  noon  till  it  be  night : 
And  then  from  night  till  it  be  noon  again. 
With  damned  oaths  pronounced  in  despight. 
For  little  cause,  and  every  trifle  vain. 
To  curse,  to  brawle,to  quarrell,  and  to  fight, 

To  pack  the  cards,  and  with  some  cozning  trick 

His  fellow's  purse  of  all  his  coyn  to  pick, 

O 


476 

Or  to  beguile  another  of  his  wife, 
As  did  ^ghistus  Agamemnon  serve : 
Or  as  that  Roman  monark  *  led  a  life 
To  spoyle  and  spend,  while  others  pine  and  starve. 
And  to  compell  their  friends  with  foolish  strife- 
Tq  take  more  drink  then  will  their  health  preserve. 
And  to  conclude,  for  debt  or  just  desart. 
In  baser  tune  to  sing  the  counter-part. 

O  let  me  rather  on  the  pleasant  brinke 
Of  Tyne  and  Trent  possesse  some  dwelling  place. 
Where  I  may  see  my  quill  and  corke  down  sinke 
With  eager  bit  of  Barbell,  Bleike,  or  Dace  : 
And  on  the  world  and  his  Creatour  thinke. 
While  they  proud  Thais  painted  sheet  embrace. 
And  with  the  fi]n;]e  of  strong  tobacco's  smoke. 
All  quaffing  round  are  ready  for  to  choke. 

Let  them  that  list  these  pastimes  then  pursne. 
And  on  their  pleasing  fancies  feed  their  fill ; 
So  1  the  fields  and  meadows  green  may  view. 
And  by  the  rivers  fresh  may  walke  at  will. 
Among  the  dazies  and  the  violets  blew  : 
Red  hyacinth,  and  yellow  daffbdill. 

Purple  Narcissus  like  the  morning  rayes. 
Pale  Ganderglas,  and  azor  Culverkayes. 

I  count  it  better  pleasure  to  behold 
The  goodly  compasse  of  the  lofty  sfcie. 
And  in  the  midst  thereof  like  burning  gold. 
The  flaming  chariot  of  the  world's  great  eye  j 
The  watry  clouds  that  in  the  Syre  uprold 
With  sundry  kinds  of  painted  colours  fliej 
And  fa  ire  Aurora  lifting  up  her  head, 
All  blushing  rise  from  old  Tithonus  bed. 

The  hils  and  mountains  raised  from  the  plains. 
The  plains  extended  levell  with  the  ground. 
The  ground  divided  into  sundry  vaiiis. 
The  vains  enclos'd  with  running  rivers  round. 
The  rivers  making  way  through  nature's  chains. 
With  hfiidlong  course  into  the  sea  profound  5 
The  surging  sea  beneath  the  vallies  low, 
The  vallies  sweet,  and  lakes  that  lovely  flow. 

*  Nero. 

The 


47-7 

The  fofty  woods,  the  forrests  wide  and  long 
Adorn 'd  with  leaves  and  branches  fresh  and  green, 
In>  whose  cool  brows  the  birds  with  chanting  song 
Do  welcome  witli  their  quire  the  Summer's  Queen, 
The  meadows  fair  where  Flora's  guifts  among, 
Are  intermixt  the  verdant  grasse  between. 
The  silver  skaled  fish  that  softly  swim 
Within  the  brooks  and  chrystall  watry  brim. 

All  these  and  many  more  of  bis  creation. 

That  made  the  heavens,  the  Angler  oft  doth  see. 

And  lakes  therein  no  little  delectation 

To  thinke  how  strange  and  wonderfull  they  bee. 

Framing  thereof  an  inward  contemplation. 

To  set  his  thoughts  on  other  fancies  free  : 

And  whiles  he  looks  on  these  with  joyfull  eye. 
His  minde  is  wrapt  above  the  starry  skie. 


The  Author  of  Angling,  Poeticall  fictions. 

But  how  this  art  of  Angling  did  begin. 
And  who  the  use  thereof  and  practise  found  ? 
How  many  times  and  ages  since  have  bin. 
Wherein  the  sun  hath  dayly  compast  round 
The  circle  that  the  signes  twice  six  are  in. 
And  yielded  yearly  comfort  to  the  ground  i 

It  were  too  hard  for  me  to  bring  about. 

Since  Ovid  wrot  not  all  that  story  out. 

Yet  to  content  the  willing  reader's  eare, 
I  will  not  spare  the  sad  report  to  tell. 
When  good  Deucalion  and  his  Pyrrha  deare. 
Were  only  left  upon  the  earth  to  dwell. 
Of  all  the  rest  that  overwhelmed  were 
With  that  great  floud,  which  in  their  dayes befell. 
Wherein  the  compasse  of  the  world  so  round. 
Both  man  and  beast  with  waters  deep  were  dround. 

Betweene  themselves  they  wept  and  made  great  moane 
How  to  repair  again  the  wofuil  fall 
Of  all  mankind,  whereof  they  two  alone 
The  remnant  were,  and  wretched  portion  small. 
But  any  means  or  hope  in  them  was  none, 
That  might  lestore  so  great  a  losse  withall ; 
Since,  they  were  aged,  arjd  in  years  so  run. 
That  now  almost  their  thread  of  life  was  spun. 

Untill 


4;8 

Untill  at  last  they  saw  whereas  they  stooci 
An  ancient  templej  wasted  and  forlorn  : 
Whose  holy  fires,  and  sundry  offerings  good. 
The  late  outragious  waves  away  had  born  : 
But  when  at  length  down  fain  was  the  flood. 
The  waters  low  it  proudly  gan  to  scorn. 
Unto  that  place  they  thought  it  best  to  go. 
The  counsell  of  the  goddesse  there  to  know. 

For  long  before  that  fearful!  deluge  great. 
The  universal  earth  had  overflown, 
A  heavenly  power  there  placed  had  her  seat. 
And  answers  gave  of  hidden  things  unknown  : 
Thither  they  went  her  favour  to  entreat 
Whose  fame  throughout  that  coast  abroad  was  blown> 
By  her  advice  some  way  or  mean  to  find. 
How  to,rene\y  the  race  of  humane  kinde. 

Prostrate  they  fell  upon  the  sacred  ground. 
Kissing  the  stones,  and  shedding  many  a  tear. 
And  lowly  bent  their  aged  bodies  down 
Unto  the  earlh,  with  sad  and  heavy  chear. 
Praying  the  saint  with  soft  and  dolefuU  sound. 
That  she  vouchsafe  their  humble  suit  to  hear: 
The  goddesse  heard,  and  bad  them  go  and  take 
Their  mother's  bones,  and  throw  behinde  their  back. 

This  oracle  obscure  and  dark  of  sence. 
Amazed  much  their  mindes  with  fear  and  doubt. 
What  kind  of  meaning  might  he  drawn  fro"  thence. 
And  how  to  understand  and  find  it  out. 
How  with  so  great  a  sin  they  might  dispence. 
Their  parent's  bones  to  cast  and  throw  about : 
Thus  when  they  had  long  time  in  study  spent. 
Out  of  the  church  with  careful!  thought  they  went. 
And  now  beholding  better  every  place. 
Each  hill  and  dale,  each  river,  rock,  and  tree. 
And  musing  thereupon  a  little  space. 
They  thought  the  earth  their  mother  wel  might  be, 
And  that  the  stones  that  lay  before  their  face. 
To  he  her  bones  did  nothing  her  disgrace: 
Wherefore  to  prove  if  it  were  false  or  true. 
The  scattered  stones  behinde  their  backes  they  threw. 
Forthwith  the  stones,  a  wondrous  thing  to  heare. 
Began  to  move,  as  they  had  life  conceiv'd. 
And  waxed  greater  then  at  first  they  were ; 
And  more  and  more  the  shape  of  man  receiv'd, 

Till 


A7§.  - 

Till  every.part  most  plainly' did  appears,    - 
That  neither  eye  nor  sence  could  be  deceiv'd ; 

They  heard,  they  spake,  they  went,  &  walked  too. 

As  other:  living  men  are  wont  to  do. 

Thus  was  the  earth  replenished  anew 
With  people  strange,  sprung  up  with  little  pain. 
Of  whose  increase  the  progeny  that  grew. 
Did  soon  supply  the  empty  world  again; 
But  now  a  greater  care  there  did  insiie, 
How:SUch  a  mighty  number  to  maintain. 
Since  food  thsre  »as  not  any  to  be  found. 
For  that  great,  floud  had  all  destroy'd  &  drown'd. 

Thet)  did  Deucalion  first  the  art  invent 
Of  Angling,  and  his  people  taught  the  same; 
And  to  the  woods  and  groves  with  them  he  went. 
Fit  tooles  to  find  for  this  most  needful!  game  j 
There  from  the  trees,  the  longest  riirdes  they  rent. 
Wherewith  strong  lines  they  roughly  twist  &  frame. 
And  of  each  crook,  of  hardest  bush  and  brake 
They  made  them  hooks  the  hungry  fish  to  take. 

And  to  intice  them  to  the  eager  bit, 
Dead  frogs  and  flies  of  sundry  sorts  he  took. 
And  snailes  and  wormes,  such  as  he  found  most  fit. 
Wherein  to  hide  the  close  and  deadly  hook  ; 
And  thus  with  practice  and  inventive  wit 
He  found  the  means  in  every  lake  and  brook. 
Such  store  of  fish  to  take  with  little  pain. 
As  did  long  time  this 'people  new  sustain. 

In  this  rude  sort,  began  this  simple  art, 
And  so  remain'd  in  that  first  age  of  old. 
When  Saturne  did  Amalthea's  horn  impart 
Unto  the  world,  that  then  was  all  of  gold^ 
The  fish  as  yet  had  felt  but  little  smart. 
And  were  to  bite  more  eager,  apt,  and  bold. 
And  plenty  still  supply 'd  the  place  again 
Of  wofuU  want,  whereof  we  now  complain. 

But  vvhen  in  time  the  fear  and  dread  of  mat! 

Fell  more  and  more  on  every  living  thing. 

And  all  the  creatures  of  the  world  began 

To  stand  in  awe  of  this  usurping  king, 

W^bose  tyranny  so  far  extended  than. 

That  earth  and  seas  it  did  in  thraldorae  bring  : 
It  Was  a  worke  of  greater  pain  and  skill. 
The  wary  fish  in  lake  or  brook  to  kill. 

So 


480 

So  worse  and  worse  two  agesmore  did  passa 
Yet  still  this  art  more  perfect  dayly  grew; 
For  then  the  slender  rod  invented  was. 
Of  finer  sort  then  fornaer'ages  knew: 
And  hookes  were  made  of  silver  and  of  bri^sse. 
And  lines  of  hemp  and  flax  were  framed  new. 
And  sundry  baits,  experience  found  out  morp 
Then  elder  times  did  know  or  try  before. 

But  at  the  last  the  Iron-age  grew  neare. 
Of  all  the  rest  the  hardest  and  more  scant : 
Then  lines  werfe  made  of  silke  ;ind  subtile  haire 
And  rods  of  lightest  canes  and  hazell  plant. 
And  hookes  of  hardest  Steele  invented  were. 
That  neither  skill  nor  workmanship  did  want. 
And  so  this  art  did  in  the  end  attain 
Uuto  that  state  where  now  it  doth  remain. 
But  here  my  weary  Muse  awhile  must  rest. 
That  is  not  used  to  so  long  a  way. 
And  breath,  or  pause  a  little  at  the  least 
At  this  lands  end,  untill  another  day. 
And  then  again,  if  so  she  think  it  best. 
Our  taken-task  afresh  we  will  assay, 
"And  forward  go,  as  first  we  did  intend. 
Till  that  we  come  unto  our  journeys  end. 

The  end  of  the  First  Booke. 


"  The  Second  Booke. 
Before  I  taught  what  kind  of  tooles  were  fit 
For  him  to  have  that  would  an  Angler  bee  : 
And  how  he  should  with  practice  and  with  wit 
Provide  himselfe  thereof  in  best  degree: 
Now  doth  remain  to  shew  how  to  the  bit 
The  fishes  may  be  brought,  that  earst  were  freer. 
'  And  with  their  pleasing  bates  intis'd  they  arc 
To  swallow  down  the  hidden  hook  unware. 


Baits. 
It  were  not  meet  to  send  a  huntsman  out 
Into  the  woods,  with  net,  with  gin,  or  hay,. 
To  trace  the  brakes,  and  bushes  all  about, 
The  stag,  the  fox,  or  badger  to  betray  : 


If        Ef 


48  r 

If  having  found  his  game  he  stand  in  doubt 
Which  way  to  pitch,  or  where  his  snares  to  lay. 
And  with  what  train  he  may  entice  withall 
The  fearfull  beast  into  his  trap  to  fall. 
So  though  the  Angler  have  good  store  of  tooles. 
And  them  with  skill  in  finest  sort  can  frame ; 
Yet  when  he  comeS  to  rivers,  lakes  and  pooles. 
If  that  he  know  not  how  to  use  the  same. 
And  with  what  bait  to  make  the  fishes  fooles. 
He  may  go  home  as  wise  as  out  he  came, 
And  of  his  comming  boasts  himself  as  well. 
As  he  that  from  his  father's  chariot  fell. 
Not  that  I  take  upon  me  to  impart 
More  then  by  others  hath  before  been  told; 
Or  that  the  hidden  secrets  of  this  art, 
I  would  unto  the  vulgar  sort  unfold. 
Who  peradventure  for  my  pains  desart. 
Would  count  me  worthy  Balam's  horse  to  hold; 
But  onely  to  the  willing  learner  show 
So  much  thereof  as  may  suffice  to  know. 
But  here,  O  Neptune,  that  with  triple  mace 
Dost  rule  the  raging  of  the  ocean  wide, 
I  meddle  not  with  thy  deformed  race 
Of  monsters  huge,  that  in  those  waves  abide: 
With  thai  great  whale  that  by  three  whole  dayes  space, 
The  man  of  God  did  in  his  belly  hide. 
And  cast  him  out  upon  the  Euxin  shore, 
As  safe  and  sound  as  he  had  been  before. 
Nor  with  that  Orke,  that  on  Cephsean  strand 
Would  have  devour'd  Andromeda  the  faire. 
Whom  Perseus  slew  with  strong  and  valiant  hand. 
Delivering  her  from  danger  and  despaire. 
The  hurlpoole  huge  that  higher  than  the  land. 
Whose,  streams  of  waters  spouteth  in  the  aire. 
The  porpois  large,  that  playing  swims  on  hie. 
Portending  storms  or  other  tempests  nie. 

Nor  that  admirer  of  sweet  Musick's  sound. 
That  on  his  back  Arion  bore  away. 
And  brought  to  shore  out  of  the  seas  profound. 
The  hippotame  that  like  an  horse  doth  neigh. 
The  mors  that  from  the  rocks  inrolled  round. 
Within  his  teeth  himselfc  doth  safe  convey: 
The  tortoise  covered  with  his  target  hard. 
The  tuberone  attended  with  his  guard. 
TOL.  II.  ^  II  Nor 


483 

Nor  with  that  fish  that  beareth  in  his  snout    ' 
A  ragged  sword  his  foes  to  spoile  and  kill; 
Nor  that  fierce  thrasher  that  doth  fling  about 
His  nimble  flayle,  and  handles  him  at  will. 
The  ravenous  shark  that  with  the  sweepings  outj 
Anil  filth  of  ships  doth  oft  his  belly  fill. 
The  albacore  that  followeth  night  and  day 
The  flying  fish,  and  takes  them  for  his  prey. 

The  crocodile  that  weeps  when  he  doth  wrong. 
The  hollibut  that  hurts  the  appetite. 
The  turbut  broad,  the  sceale,  the  sturgeon  strong, 
The  cod,  and  cozze,  that  greedy  are  to  bile. 
The  haake,  the  haddocke,  and  the  conger  long. 
The  yellow  ling,  the  inilver  fair  and  white, 

The  spreading  ray,  the  thornback  thin  and  flat. 
The  boysterous  base,  the  hoggish  tunny  fat. 

These  kindes  offish  that  are  so  large  of  size. 
And  many  more  that  here  I  leave  untold. 
Shall  go  for  me,  and  all  the  rest  likewise. 
That  are  the  flock  of  Proteus  watry  fold : 
For  well  I  think  my  hooks  would  not  suffice. 
Nor  slender  lines  the  least  of  these  to  hold. 
I  leave  them  therefore  to  the  surging  seas. 
In  that  huge  depth  to  wander  at  their  ease. 

And  speake  of  such  as  in  the  fresh  are  found. 
The  little  roach,  the  menise  biting  fast. 
The  slimy  tench,  the  slender  smelt  and  round. 
The  umber  sweet,  the  graveling  good  of  taste. 
The  wholesome  ruffe,  the  barbell  not  so  sound. 
The  pearch  and  pike  that  all  the  rest  do  waste. 
The  bream,  the  carp,  the  chub  and  chavandar. 
And  many  more  that  in  fresh  waters  are. 

Sit  then  Thalia  on  some  pleasant  banck. 
Among  so  many  as  faire  Avon  hath. 
And  njarke  the  anglers  how  they  march  in  rank. 
Some  out  of  Bristoll,  some  from  healthfuU  Bath ; 
How  all  the  rivers  sides  along  they  flanke. 
And  through  the  meadows  make  their  wonted  path  ; 
See  how  their  wit  and  cunning  they  apply. 
To  catch  the  fish  that  in  the  waters  lye. 


For     For 


483 

For  the  Gudgion.  * 

Loe  in  a  little  boat  where  one  doth  stand. 
That  to  a  willow  bough  the  while  is  tide. 
And  with  a  pole  doth  stir  and  raise  the  sand. 
Whereas  the  gentle  streams  doth  softly  slide. 
And  then  with  slender  line,  and  rod  in  hand. 
The  eager  bit  not  long  he  doth  abide. 

Well  leaded  is  his  line,  his  hooke  but  small, 
A  good  big  cork  to  bear  the  stream  withall. 

His  bait  the  least  red  worme  that  may  be  found. 
And  at  the  bottome  it  doth  alwayes  liej 
Whereat  the  greedy  gudgion  bites  so  sound. 
That  hooke  and  all  he  swalloweth  by  and  by  : 
See  how  he  strikes,  and  pulls  them  up  as  round. 
As  if  new  store  the  play  did  still  supply  : 

And  when  the  bit  doth  die,  or  bad  doth  prove. 
Then  to  another  place  he  doth  remove. 
This  fish  the  fittest  for  a  learner  is. 
That  in  this  art  delights  to  take  some  paine ; 
For  as  high-flying  hawkes  that  often  misse 
The  swifter  fpwles  are  eased  with  a  traine. 
So  to  a  yong  beginner  yieldeth  this 
Such  ready  sport  as  makes  him  prove  agaiue. 
And  leades  him  on  with  hope  and  glad  desire. 
To  greater  skill  and  cunning  to  aspire. 


For  the  Roth. 

Then  see  on  yonder  side  where  one  doth  sit 
"With  line  well  twisted,  and  his  hook  but  small; 
His  cork  not  big,  his  plummets  round  and  fit. 
His  bait  of  finest  paste,  a  little  ball,  f 
Wherewith  he  doth  intice  unto  the  bit. 
The  carelesse  roch,  that  soone  is  caught  withall : 
Within  a  foot  the  same  doth  reach  the  ground, 
And  with  least  touch  the  float  straight  sinketh  down. 

And  as  a  skilfuU  fowkr  that  doth  use 
The  flying  birds  of  any  kind  to  take, 

*  The  gudgion  hath  his  teeth  in  his  throat,  (as  also  the  chub) 
and  lives  by  much  sucking  j  he'is  a  dainty  fish,  like  or  neere  as 
good  as  the  sparlin. 

t  The  roch  is  one  of  the  meanest, 

I  I  2  The 


484 

The  fittest  and  the  best  doth  always  chuse^ 
Of  many  sorts  a  pleasing  stale  to  make. 
Which  if  he  doth  perceive  they  do  refuse. 
And  of  mislike  abandon  and  forsake. 

To  win  their  love  again,  and  get  their  grace. 
Forthwith  doth  put  another  in  the  place. 

So  for  the  roch  more  baits  he  hath  beside. 
As  of  a  sheep  the  thick  congealed  bloud. 
Which  on  a  board,  he  useth  to  divide 
In  portions  small,  to  make  them  tit  and  good. 
That  better  on  his  hooke  they  may  abide: 
And  of  the  waspe  the  white  and  tender  brood. 
And  worms  that  breed  on  every  herb  and  tree. 
And  sundry  flies  that  quick  and  lively  bee. 


For  the  Dace. 

Then  look  whereas  that  poplar  gray  doth  grow. 
Hard  by  the  same  where  one  doth  closely  stand. 
And  with  the  winde  his  hooke  and  bait  doth  throw 
Amid  the  stream  with  slender  hazell  wand. 
Whereas  he  sees  the  dace  themselves  do  show. 
His  eye  is  quick,  and  ready  is  his  handj 

^nd  when  the  fish  doth  rise  to  catch  the  baite. 
He  presently  doth  strike,  and  takes  her  straight. 
O  world's  deceit !  how  are  we  thrall'd  by  thee, 
'I'hat  doest  thy  gall  in  sweetest  pleasures  hide  ? 
When  most  we  think  in  happiest  state  to  be. 
Then  do  we  soonest  into  danger  slide. 
Behold  the  fish  that  even  now  was  free, 
Unto  the  deadly  hooke  how  he  is  tide : 
So  vaine  delights  allure  us  to  the  snare. 
Wherein  unwares  we  fast  intangled  are. 


For  the  Carp. 

But  now  again  see  where  another  stands. 
And  strains  his  rod  that  double  seems  to  bend, 
Lo  how  he  leads  and  guides  him  with  his  hands, 
Lest  that  his  line  should  breake,  or  angle  rend. 
Then  with  a  net  see  how  at  last  he  lands, 
A  mighty  carp,  and  has  him  in  the  end. 
So  large  he  is  of  body,  scale  and  bone. 
The  rod  and  all  have  like  to  had  been  gone, 

Mark     ark 


48^ 

Mark  ^vhat  a  line  he  hath,  well  made  and  strong, 
Of  Bucephal,  or  Bayards  strongest  haire, 
Twisted  with  green,  or  watchet  silk  among. 
Like  hardest  twine  that  holds  th'  intangled  deare. 
Not  any  force  offish  will  do  it  wrong. 
In  Tyne,  or  Trent,  or  Thame,  he  needs  not  feare: 
The  knots  of  every  link  are  knit  so  sure. 
That  many  a  pluck  and  pull  they  may  indure. 

His  corke  is  large,  made  handsgm,  smooth,  and  fine. 
The  leads  according  fit  and  close  thereto, 
A  good  round  hooke  set  on  with  silken  twine, 
That  will  not  slip  or  easily  undoe: 
His  baite  great  wormes  that  long  in  mosse  have  bin, 
When  by  his  side  he  beareth  in  a  shooe: 
Or  paste  wherewith  he  feeds  him  oft  before. 
That  at  the  bottome  lies  a  foot  or  more. 


For  the  Chub  and  Trout. 

See  where  another  hides  himselfe  as  slye. 
As  did  Acteon  or  the  fearfuU  deere ; 
Behind  a  withy,  and  with  a  watchfull  eye. 
Attends  the  bit  within  the  water  cleare. 
And  on  the  top  thereof  doth  move  his  flye. 
With  skilful!  hand  as  if  he  living  were.  * 
Lo  how  the  chub,  the  roch,  the  dace,  and  trout. 
To  catch  thereat  do  gaze  and  swim  about. 

His  rod  or  cane  made  darke  for  being  seen. 
The  lesse  to  feare  the  wary  fish  withall, 
His  line  well  twisted  is,  and  wrought  so  cleane. 
That  being  strong,  yet  doth  it  shew  but  small. 
His  hook  not  great,  nor  little,  but  between,t 
That  light  upon  the  watry  brim  may  fall. 

The 

*  Diversely,  for  the  trout  is  a  ravening  fish,  and  at  that  time 
of  the  day  comes  from  his  hole,  if  he  comes  at  all. 

f  The  trout  makes  the  angler  most  gentlemanly,  and  readiest 
sport  of  all  other  fishes  :  if  you  angle  with  a  made  flye,  and  a  line 
twice  your  rod's  length  or  more  (in  a  plaine  water  without  wood) 
of  three  haires,  in  a  darke  windy  day  from  mid  afternoone,  and 
have  learned  the  cast  of  the  flie,  your  flie  must  counterfeit  the 
May  flie,  which  is  bred  of  the  cod-bait,  and  is  called  the  water- 
flie :  you  must  change  his  colour  every  moneth,  beginning  with 
a  dark  white,  and  so  grow  to  a  yellow,  the  forme  cannot  so  well 

113  be 


486 

The  line  in  length  scant  halfe  the  rod  exoeieds. 
And  neither  cork,  nor  lead  thereon  it  needs. 


For  the  Trout  and  Eele, 
Now  see  some  standing  where  the  streame  doth  fall. 
With  headlong  course  behind  the  sturdy  weer. 
That  overthwart  the  river  like  a  wall  * 
The  water  stops  and  strongly  up  doth  bear. 


And 


be  put  on  a  paper,  as  it  may  be  taught  by  slight;  yet  it  will 
be  like  this  forme. 


The  head  is  of  black  silk  or  haire,  the  wings  of  a  feather  of  a 
niallart,  teele,  or  pickled  hen-wing.  The  body  of  Cre well  accord- 
ing to  the  moneth  for  colour,  and  run  about  with  a  black  haire ; 
all  fastned  at  the  taile,  with  the  thread  that  fastned  the  hooke  you 
must  fish  in  ;  or  hard  by  the  stream,  and  have  a  quick  hand,  and 
a  ready  eye,  and  a  nimble  rod,  strike  with  him,  or  you  lose  him. 
If  the  winde  be  rough,  and  trouble  the  crust  of  the  water,  he  will 
take  it  in  the  plaine  deeps,  and  then,  and  there  commonly  the 
greatest  will  rise.  When  you  have  hookt  him,  give  him  leave, 
keeping  \our  line  streight,  and  hold  Vwn  from  roots,  and  he  will 
tire  himselfe.  This  is  the  chiefe  pleasure  of  angling.  This  file 
and  two  linkes  among  wood,  or  close  by  a  bush,  moved  in  the 
crust  of  the  water,  is  deadly  in  an  evening,  if  you  come  close. 
This  is  called  bushing  for  trouts. 

Cad  bait,  is  a  worme  bred  under  stones  in  a  shallow  river,  or  in 
some  outrunner  of  the  river,  where  the  stream  runs  not  strongly, 
in  a  black  shale.  They  stick  by  heaps  on  the  low  side  of  a  great 
stone,  lying  hollow.  They  be  ripe  in  the  beginning  of  May,  they 
are  past  with  July,  they  be  yellow  when  they  be  ripe,  and  have  a 
black  head.  This  is  a  deadly  bait  for  a  trout,  either  aloft,  or  at 
the  ground  ;  if  your  tooles  be  fine,  and  you  come  close,  for  the 
trout  of  all  other  fish,  is  most  affrighted  with  sight.  And  indeed 
it  would  be  consi'c^ered,  that  fish  are  afraid  of  any  extraordinary 
motion  or  sight  what  colour  so  ever,  except  the  pike,  which  will 
lie  open  in  your  sight,  on  a  sun  shine  day  till  you  halter  him. 

The  trout  will  take  also  the  worme,  menise,  or  any  bait ;  so 
will  the  pike,  save  that  he  will  not  take  the  fly. 

*  The  Eele. 
There  be  divers  wayes  to  catch  the  wrinkling  eele,  year  line 
must  be  stronger  six  or  seven  hairs,  and  your  hook  according,  for 
she  must  upon  the  hooking  presently  be  drawn  forth  with  force, 

otherwise 


48; 

And  at  the  tailes  of  mils  and  aiciies  small, 
Whereas  the  shoot  is  swift,  and  not  too  clear. 
The  Ime  in  length  not  twice  above  an  ell. 
Bat  with  good  store  of  lead,  and  twisted  well. 

Round  hahdsom  hooks  that  will  not  break  nor  bend, 

The  big  red  worme  well  scoured  is  their  bait. 

Which  down  unto  the  bottom  doth  descend, 

W-hereas  the  trout  and  eele  doth  lie  in  wait. 

And  to  their  feeding  busily  intend, 

Which  when  they  see  they  snatch  and  swallow  straight. 

Upon  their  line's  is  neither  cork  nor  quill,         [still. 

But  when  they  feele  them  pluck,  then  strike  they 

otherwise  she  fastens  her  selfe  with  her  taile  about  a  root  or  stone, 
or  such  like,  and  so  you  lose  your  labour,  your  hooke,  and  the 
fish.     The  worm  or  inenise  is  her  common  bait. 

There  is  a  way  to  catch  eeles  by  brogling  thus :  take  a  rod 
small  and  tough,  of  sallow,  hasell,  or  such  like,  <i  yard  long,  as 
big  as  a  bean  stalk;  in  the  small  end  thereof  make  a  nick  or  clift 
with  .a  knife,  in  which  nick  put  your  strong  (but  a  little)  hook 
baited  with  a  red  worm,  and  made  sure  to  a  line  often  or  twelve 
good  haires,  and  but  easily  that  the  eele  may  pull  it  out,  and  goe 
into  ?orae  shallow  place  of  the  river  among  the  great  stones,  and 
braggle  up  and  downe  till  you  finde  holes  under  the  stones,  and 
there  put  in  your  hook  so  baited  with  your  rods  end,  and  the  eele 
tinder  the  stone  will  not  faileto  take  your  hooke:  give  her  time 
to  put  it  over,  and  then  if  your  strength  will  serve  she  is  your 
owne. 

There  is  a  third  usuall  way  to  catch  eeles,  called  bobbing. 
Upon  a  long  and  double  strong  thread,  two  yards  long,  or  there- 
aboute,  spit  so  many  great  red  wormes  (gotten  in  a  summer's 
evening  with  a  candle)  as  the  thread  will  hold  lengthway  through 
the  midst,  and  link  them  about  your  hand  like  a  rope,  thus : 


-O- 


And  fasten  these  to  a  long  goads  end  with  a  cord  as  long  as  your 
rod,  and  a  great  plummet  of  lead  an  handfuU  above  the  bob :  and 
in  a  troubled  or  flooded  river,  in  a  deep  tun,  or  by  a  stream  side, 
let  it  fall  within  a  hand  breadth  of  the  ground,  and  then  shall  you 
sensibly  feele  a  multitude  of  eeles,  all  in  that  pit,  like  so  many 
dogs  at  a  carrion,  tug  and  pull ;  now  at  your  good  time,  when  you 
think  that  every  eele  hath  got  a  link  and  swallowed  it  up  (like  so 
many  ducks  the  intrailes  ot  a  pullet)  draw  up  very  easily,  and  they 
will  follow  working  and  pulling,  till  you  ,have  them  near  the  crust, 
and  then  amaine  hoyst  them  to  land :  this  is  the  readiest  way 
where  eeles  are  plentifull  to  catch  many. 

For  the  trout  you  shall  find  in  the  root  of  a  great  dock,  a  vfhite 
worme  vvith  a  red  head,  with  this  fish  for  a  trout  at  the  ground. 

114  For 


488 

For  the  Seiuant  and  Flounder. 

Behold  some  others  ranged  all  along. 
To  take  the  sewant,  yea  the  flownder  sweet. 
That  to  the  banke  in  deepest  places.throng. 
To  shun  the  swifter  stream  that  runs  so  fleet. 
And  lie  and  feed  the  brakish  waves  among. 
Whereas  the  waters  fresh  and  salt  do  meet : 

And  there  the  eele  and  shad  sometimes  is  caught. 
That  with  the  tide  into  the  brooks  are  brought. 

But  by  the  way  it  shall  not  be  araisse 
To  understand  that  in  the  waters  gray. 
Of  floating  fish  two  sundry  kinds  there  is; 
The  one  that  lives  by  raven  and  by  prey. 
And  of  the  weaker  sort,  now  that,  now  this. 
He  bites,  and  spoiles,  and  kils,  and  bears  away, 
And  in  his  greedy  gullet  doth  devoure. 
As  Scylla's  gulfe,  a  ship  within  his  power. 
And  these  have  wider  mouths  to  catch  and  take. 
Their  flying  prey,  whom  swifily  they  pursue. 
And  rowes  of  teeth  like  to  a  saw  or  rake. 
Wherewith  their  gotten  game  they  bite  and  chew, 
And  greater  speed  within  the  waters  make. 
To  set  upon  the  other  simple  crew. 

And  as  the  greyhound  steales  upon  the  haire. 
So  do  th'ey  use  to  rush  on  them  unware. 

Unequall  fate,  that  some  are  born  to  bee 
Feariull  and  mild,  and  for  the  rest  a  prey. 
And  others  are  ordain'd  to  live  more  free 
Without  controle,  or  danger  any  way: 
So  doth  the  fox  the  lambe  destroy  we  see. 
The  lyon  fierce,  the  bever,  roe  or  gray. 

The  hawk,  the  fowl,  the  greater  wrgng  the  lesse. 
The  lofty  proud,  the  lowly  poore  oppresse. 


For  the  Pike  or  Tench. 

Now  for  to  take  this  kind  offish  withall,  * 
It  shall  be  needful!  to  have  still  in  store 
Some  living  baits,  as  bleiks,  and  roches  small, 
Gudgion,  or  loch,  not  taken  long  before, 

•  A  yong  whelpe,  kitlin,  or  such  like,  is  good  bait  for  a  luce. 

Or 


489 

Or  yellow  frogs  that  in  the  watws  crawle, 
But  all  alive  they  must  be  evermore. 

For  as  for  baits  that  dead  and  dull  do  lie, 

They  least  esteem,  and  set  but  little  by. 

But  take  good  heed  your  line  be  sure  and  strong, 
The  knots  well  knit  and  of  the  soundest,  b aire, 
Twisted  with  some  well  coloured  silke  among, 
And  that  you  have  no  need  your  rod  to  feare: 
For  these  great  fish  will  strive  and  struggle  long. 
Rod,  line  and  all  into  the  streame  to  beare. 

And  that  your  hook  be  not  too  small  and  weak. 
Lest  that  it  chance  to  stretch,  or  hap  to  breake. 
And  as  in  Arden  or  the  tnountains  hoare. 
Of  Appennine  or  craggy  Alps  among. 
The  mastifes  fierce,  that  hunt  the  bristled  boare. 
Are  harnised  with  curats  light  and  strong  ; 
So  for  these  fish,  your  line  a  foote  or  more, 
Must  armed  be  with  thinnest  plate  along. 
Or  slender  wyre  well  fastned  thereunto. 
That  will  not  slip,  nor  easily  undo. 
The  other  kinde  that  are  unlike  to  these 
Do  live  by  corne  or  any  other  seed  : 
Sometimes  by  cruras  of  bread,  of  paste,  or  cheese. 
Or  grashoppers  that  in  green  meadows  breed. 
With  brood  of  wasps,  of  hornets,  doars,  or  bees. 
Lip  berries  from  the  bryar  bush  or  weed. 

Bloud  worms  and  snails,  or  crawling  jentiles  small. 
And  buzzing  flies  that  on  the  waters  fall. 

All  these  are  good  and  many  others  more. 
To  make  fit  baits  to  take  such  kind  offish. 
So  that  some  faire  deep  place  you  feed  before, 
A  day  or  two,  with  pale,  with  bole,  or  dishj 
And  of  these  meats  do  use  to  throw  in  store. 
Then  shall  you  have  them  bite  as  you  would  wish. 

And  ready  sport  to  take  your  pleasure  still. 

Of  any  sort  that  you  like  best  to  kjlL 

Thus  serving  them  as  often  as  you  may. 
But  once  a  week  at  least  it  must  be  done. 
If  that  to  bite  they  make  too  long  delay. 
As  by  your  sport  may  be  perceived  soone : 
Then  some  great  fish  doth  feare  the  rest  away, 
Whose  fellowship  and  company  they  shun. 
Who  neither  in  the  baif  doth  take  delight, 
Nor  yet  would  suffer  them  that  would  to  bite. 

For 


450 

For  this  you  must  a  remedy  provide. 
Some  roch  or  bleike,  as  I  have  shew'd  before. 
Beneath  whose  upper  fin  you  close  shall  hide 
Of  all  your  hooke  the  better  halfe  and  more. 
And  though  the  point  appear,  and  may  be  spi'd^ 
,  It  makes  no  matter  any  whit  therefore: 

But  let  him  fall  into  the  watry  brim. 

And  dowue  unto  the  boltome  softly  swim. 
And  when  you  see  your  corke  begin  to  move. 
And  round  about  to  sore  and  fetch  a  ring. 
Sometime  to  sink,  and  sometime  to  swim  above. 
As  doth  the  duck  within  the  watry  spring. 
Yet  make  no  haste  your  present  hap  to  prove^ 
Till  with  your  float  at  last  away  he  tltng  : 

Then  may  you  safely  strike  and  hold  him  shortj 

And  at  your  will  prolong  or  end  your  sport. 

Put  every  fish  loves  not  each  bait  alike; 
Although  sometimes  they  feed  upon  the  same. 
But  some  do  one,  and  some  another  seeke. 
As  best  unto  their  appetite  do  frame. 
The  roch,  the  bream,  the  carp,  the  chub  and  bleik. 
With  paste  or  corn  their  greedy  hunger  tame  : 
The  dace,  the  ruffe,  the  gudgion,  and  the  rest. 
The  smallest  sort  of  crawling  worms  love  be^t. 
The  cavender  and  chub  do  more  delight 
To  feed  on  tender  cheese,  or  cherries  red. 
Black  snailes,  their  bellies  slit  to  shew  their  white, 
Or  grashoppers  that  skip  in  every  mead. 
The  pearch,  the  tench,  and  eele  do  rather  bite 
At  great  red  worms,  in  field  or  garden  bred. 

That  have  been  scowr'd  in  mosse  or  fennel  rough 
To  rid  iheir  filth,  and  make  them  hard  and  tough. 

And  with  this  bait  hath  often  taken  been 
The  salmon  fair,  of  river  fresh  the  best; 
The  shad  that  in  the  spring  time  commeth  in. 
The  suant  swift,  that  is  not  set  by  least. 
The  bocber  sweet,  the  pleasant  flounder  thin, 
The  peele,  the  tweat,  the  batling,  and  the  rest; 

With  many  more  that  in  the  deep  doe  lye 

Of  Avon,  Uske,  ofSeverne,  and  of  Wye. 
Alike  theybite,  alike  they  pull  down  low 
The  sinking  corke,  that  strives  to  rise  again. 
And  when  they  feele  the  sudden  deadly  blow. 
Alike  they  shun  the  danger  and  the  pain  : 

And       nd 


491 

And  as  an  arrow  from  the  Scythian  bow^ 

All  flye  alike  into  the  streame  amain, 
Untill  tlie  Angler  by  his  wary  skill. 
There  tires  them  out,  and  brings  them  up  at  will. 

Yet  furthermore  it  doth  behove  to  know. 
That  for  the  most  part  fish  do  seek  their  food 
Upon  the  ground,  or  deepest  bottonie  low. 
Or  at  the  top  of  water  stream,  or  tlood; 
And  so  you  must  your  hooke  and  bait  bestow, 
For  in  the  midst  you  shall  do  little  good, 
For  heavy  things  downe  to  the  bottome  fall 
And  light  do  swim,  and  seldome  sinke  at  all. 

All  summer  long  aloft  tlie  fishes  swim, 
Delighted  with  fair  Phcebus  shining  ray. 
And  lie  in  wait  within  the  waters  dim. 
For  flies  and  gnats  that  on  the  top  do  play. 
Then  halfe  a  yard  beneath  the  upper  brim. 
It  shall  be  best  your  baited  hooke  to  lay. 
With  gnat  or  flie  of  any  sort  or  kind. 
That  every  moneth  on  leaves  or  trees  you  find^ 

But  when  your  line  must  have  no  lead  at  all. 

And  but  a  slender  corke,  or  little  quMl, 

To  stay  the  bait  that  down  it  do  not  fall. 

But  hang  a  linke  within  the  water  still. 

Or  else  upon  the  top  thereof  you  shall 

With  quicker  hand,  and  with  more  ready  skill 
Let  fall  your  flie  and  now  and  then  remove. 
Which  soon  the  fish  will  find,  and  better  love. 

And  in  the  stream  likewise  they  use  to  be 

At  tailes  of  flood-gates,  or  at  arches  wide; 

Or  shallow  flats,  whereas  the  waters  free 

With  fresher  springs,  and  swifter  course  do  slide: 

And  then  of  waspe,  the  brood  that  cannot  flie. 

Upon  a  tile-stone  first  a  little  dryed. 

Or  yellow  bobs  turn'd  up  before  the  plough. 
Are  chiefest  baits,  with  cork  and  lead  enough. 

But  when  the  golden  chariot  of  the  sunne. 
Departing  from  our  northern  countries  far 
Beyond  the  ballance,  now  his  course  hath  runne. 
And  goes  to  warm  the  cold  Antartick  star, 
And  summer's  heat  is  almost  spent  and  done, 
With  new  approach  of  winter's  dreadfull  war: 
Then  do  the  fish  withdraw  into  the  deep. 
And  low  from  sight  and  cold  more  close  do  keep. 

Then 


492 

Then  on  your  lines  you  may  have  store  of  lead. 
And  bigger  corkes  of  any  size  you  will. 
And  where  the  fish  are  used  to  be  fed. 
There  shall  you  lay  upon  the  bottome  still. 
And  whether  that  your  bait  be  corne  or  bread. 
Or  worms,  or  paste,  it  doth  not  greatly  skill. 
For  these  alone  are  to  be  used  than, 
Untill  the  spring,  or  summer  come  again. 

Thus  have  I  shew'd  how  fish  of  divers  kind 
Best  taken  are,  and  how  their-bails  to  ttnowj 
But  PhcEbus  now  beyond  the  western  lude, 
Beginneth  to  descendj,  and  draweth  low. 
And  well  the  weather  serves,  and  gentle  winde 
Down  with  the  tide,  and  pleasant  stream  to  row 
Unto  some  place  where  we  may  rest  us  in, 
Untill  we  shall  another  time  begin. 

The  end  of  the  second  Booke. 


The  Third  Booke. 

Now  fals  it  out  in  order  to  declare 

What  time  is  best  to  angle  in  aright ; 

And  when  the  chiefe  and  fittest  seasons  are 

Wherein  the  fish  are  most  dispos'd  to  bite. 

What  winde  doth  make,  and  which  again  doth  mar 

The  Angler's  sport,  wherein  he  takes  delight. 

And  how  he  may  with  pleasure  best  aspire 

Unto  the  wished  end  of'  his  desire. 

For  there  are  times  in  which  they  will  not  bite. 
But  do  forbear,  and  from  their  food  refrain, 
And  dayes  there  are  wherein  they  most  delight 
To  labour  for  the  same,  and  bite  amain  : 
So  he  that  can  these  seasons  finde  aright. 
Shall  not  repent  his  travell  spent  in  vain. 
To  walke  a  mile  or  two  amidst  the  fields. 
Reaping  the  fruit  bis  harmlesse  pleasure  yields. 
And  as  a  ship  in  safe  and  quiet  road 
Under  some  hill  or  harbour  doth  abide. 
With  all  herfraight,  her  tackling,  and  her  load. 
Attending  still  the  winde  and  wished  tide. 

Which 


493 

Which  when  it  serves,  no  longer  makes  abode. 
But  forth  into  the  watry  deep  doth  slide. 

And  through  the  waves  divides  her  fairest  way 
Unto  the  place  where  she  intends  to  stay  j 

So  must  the  Angler  be  provided  still 
Of  divets  tooles,  and  sundry  baits  in  store ; 
And  all  things  else  pertaining"  to  his  skill. 
Which  he  shall  get  and  lay  up  long  before. 
That  when  the  weather  frameth  to  his  will, 
He  may  be  well  appointed  evermore. 
To  take  fit  time  when  it  is  ofFtred  ever. 
For  time  in  one  estate  abideth  never. 


The  Qualities  of  an  Angler. 

But  ere  I  further  go,  it  shall  behove 
To  show  what  gifts  and  qqalities  of  rainde 
Belongs  to  him  that  doth  this  pastime  love ; 
And  what  the  vertues  are  of  every  kinde. 
Without  the  which  it  were  in  vain  to  prove. 
Or  to  expect  the  pleasure  he  should  finde. 

No  more  then  he  that  having  store  of  meate. 

Hath  lost  all  lust  and  appetite  to  eate. 

For  what  availes  the  brooke  or  lake,  to  goe 
With  handsome  rods,  and  hookas  of  every  sort, 
'  Well  twisted  lines,  and  many  trinckets  moe. 
To  find  the  fish  within  their  watry  fort. 
If  that  the  minde  be  not  contented  so. 
But  wants  those  gifts  that  should  the  rest  support. 
And  makes  bis  pleasure  to  his  thoughts  agree. 
With  these  therefore  he  must  endued  be. 

The  first  is  faith,  not  wavering  and  unstable. 

But  such  as  had  that  holy  patriark  old,  Abraham, 

That  to  the  highest  was  so  acceptable. 

As  his  increase  and  offspring  manifold 

Exceeded  far  the  stars  innumerable, 

ijo  must  he  still  ^  firme  perswasion  hold. 

That  where  as  waters,  brooks  and  lakes  abound. 
There  store  offish  without  all  doubt  abound. 

For  nature  that  liath,  made  no  empty  thing. 
But  all  her  workes  doth  well  and  wisely  frame. 
Hath  fil'd  each  brook,  each  river,  lake  and  spring. 
With  creatures,  apt  to  live  amidst  the  same; 
Even  as  the  earth,  the  ayre,  and  seas  do  bring 
Forth  beasts,  and  birds  of  sundry  sort  and  name. 

And 


494 

And  give  them  shape,  ability,  and  sence 
To  live  and  dwell  therein  without  offence. 

The  second  gift  and  quality  is  hope. 
The  anchor-hold  of  every  hard  desire; 
That  having  of  the  day  so  large  a  scope. 
He  shall  in  time  to  wished  hap  aspire. 
And  ere  the  sun  hath  left'  the  heavenly  cope. 
Obtain  the  sport  and  game  he  doth  desire, 

And  that  the  fish,  though  sometime  slow  to  bite, 
Will  recompence  dayly  with  more  delight. 

The  third  is  love,  and  liking  to  the  game. 

And  to  his  friend  and  neighbour  dwelling  by; 

For  greedy  pleasure  not  to  spoyle  the  same. 

Nor  of  his  fish  some  portion  to  deny 

To  any  that  are  sickly,  weake,  or  lame. 

For  rather  with  his  line  and  angle  try 
In  pond  or  brooke  to  do  what  in  him  lies. 
To  take  such  store  for  them  as  may  suffice. 

Then  followeth  patience,  that  the  fiirious  flame 
Of  choller  cooles,  and  passions  put  to  flight. 
As  doth  a  skilfull  rider  breake  and  tame 
The  courser  well,  and  teach  him  tread  aright: 
So  patiente  doth  the  minde  dispose  and  frame. 
To  take  mishaps  in  worth,  and  count  them  light. 
As  losse  of  fish,  line,  hooke,  or  lead,  or  all. 
Or  other  chance  that  often  may  befall. 

The  fift  good  gift  is  low  humility 
As  when  a  lyon  coucheth  for  his  prey. 
So  must  he  stoop,  or  kneele  upon  his  knee. 
To  save  his  line,  or  put  the  weeds  away. 
Or  lie  along  sometime  if  need  there  be. 
For  any  let  or  chance  that  happen  may. 
And  not  to  scorne  to  take  a  little  pain 
To  serve  his  turn,  liis  pleasure  to  obtain. 

The  sixt  is  painfull  strength  and  courage  good, 
Tlic  greatest  to  iiicounter  in  the  brooke. 
If  that  he  happen  in  his  angry  mood 
To  snatch  your  bait,  and  bear  away  your  hooke. 
With  wary  skill  to  rule  him  in  the  flood, 
Untill  more  quiet,  tame,  and  milde  he  looke, 
And  all  adventures  constantly  to  heare. 
That  may  betide  without  mistrust  or  feare. 

Next 


495 

Next  unto  this  is  liberality. 

Feeding  them  oft  with  full  and  plentious  hand  : 

Of  all  the  rest  a  needfuU  quality, 

To  draw  them  near  the  place  where  you  will  stand 

Like  to  the  ancient  hospitality, 

That  sometimes  dwelt  in  Albion's  fertile  land. 

But  now  is  sent  away  into  exile 

Beyond  the  boub'ds  of  Isabella's  isle. 

The  eight  is  knowledge  how  to  find  the  way 
To  make  them  bite  when  they  are  dull  or  slow. 
And  what  dotljwlet  the  same  and  breeds  delay. 
And  every  like  impediment  to  know. 
That  keeps  them  from  their  food  and  wonted  pray. 
Within  the  stream,  or  standing  waters  low. 

And  wi^h  experience  skilfully  to  prove. 

All  other  faults  to  mend  or  to  remove. 

The  ninth  is  placability  of  minde. 
Contented  with  a  reasonable  dish. 
Yea  though  sometime  no  sport  at  all  he  finde. 
Or  that  the  weather  prove  not  to  his  wish : 
The  tenth  is  thankes  to  that  God,  of  each  kinde. 
To  net  and  bait  doth  send  both  fowle  and  fish. 
And  still  reserves  enough  in  secret  store. 
To  please  the  rich,  and  to  relieve  the  poore. 

The  eleventh  good  guift,  and  hardest  to  endure. 
Is  fasting  long  from  all  superfluous  fare. 
Unto  the  which  he  must  himself  inure. 
By  exercise  and  use  of  dyet  spare. 
And  with  the  liquor  of  the  waters  pure 
Acquaint  himselfe  if  he  cannot  forbeare. 

And  never  on  his  greedy  belly  think. 

From  rising  sun,  untill  a  low  he  sink. 

The  twelfth  and  last  of  all  is  memory, 
Kemembring  well  before  he  setteth  out 
Each  needfull  thing  that  he  must  occupy. 
And  not  to  stand  of  any  want  in  doubt. 
Or  leave  something  behind  forgetfully : 
When  he  hath  walkt  the  fields  and  brooks  about. 
It  were  a  griefe  back  to  return  again. 
For  things  forgot,  that  should  his  sport  maintain. 

Here  then  you  see  what  kind  of  qualities 
An  Angler  should  indued  be  withall. 
Besides  his  skill  and  other  properties; 

To 


496 

To  serve  his  turn,  as  t<5  his  lot  doth  fall: 
But  now  what  season  for  this  exercise 
The  fittest  is,  and  which  doth  serve  but  small. 
My  muse,  vouchsafe  some  little  ayd  to  lend. 
To  bring  this  also  to  the  wished  end. 


Season  and  lime  not  to  Angle. 
First,  if  the  weather  be  too  dry  and  hot. 
And  scalds  with  scourching  heat  the  lowly  plain 
As  if  that  youthful  Phaeton  had  got 
The  guiding  of  his  father's  car  again. 
Or  that  it  seem'd  Apollo  had  forgot 
His  light-foot  steeds  to  rule  with  stedfast  rein. 
It  is  not  good  with  any  line  or  booke. 
To  angle  then  in  fiver,  pond,  or  brooke. 
Or  when  cold  Boreas  with  his  frosty  beard 
Looks  out  from  underneath  the  lesser  Beare, 
And  makes  the  weary  traveller  afeard 
To  see  the  vallies  covered  every  where 
With  ice  and  snow,  that  late  so  green  appear' d. 
The  "waters  stand  as  if  of  Steele  they  were; 
And  hoary  frosts  do  hang  on  every  bough. 
Where  freshest  leaves  of  summer  late  did  grow. 

So  neither  if  Don  ^olus  lets  go* 
His  blustring  windes  out  of  his  hollow  deep. 
Where  he  their  strife  and  strugHng  too  and  fro. 
With  triple  forke  doth  still  in  order  keep. 
They  rushing  forth,  do  rage  with  tempests  so. 
As  if  they  would  the  world  together  sweep. 
And  ruffling  so  with  sturdy  blasts  they  blow, 
The  tree  and  house  sometimes  they  overthrow. 
Besides,  when  shepheard  and  the  swains  prepire 
Unto  the  brooks,  with  all  their  flocks  of  sheep. 
To  wash  their  fleeces,  and  to  make  them  fair,  f 
In  every  poole  dnd  running  water  deep, 

*  The  stronger  the  winde  blowes,  (so  you  may  abide  it,  and 
guideyour  tooles)  and  the  colder  the  summsr  dayes  are,  the  better 
will  they  bite,  and  the  closer  shall  you  come  to  them. 

f  I  ratber  thinke  the  kades  and  other  filth  that  falls  from  sheepe 
doe  so  glut  the  ftsh,  that  they  will  not  take  any  artificiall  bait. 
The  same  is  the  reason  of  the  floud  washing  down  worms,  flies, 
frog- clocks,  &c. 

The 


497 

The  savour  of  the  wcoll  doth  so  impaire. 

The  pleasant  streams,  and  plunging  that  they  keep. 

As  if  that  Lethe-flood  ran  every  wherej 

Or  bitter  Doris  intermingled  were. 

Or  when  land  flouds  through  long  and  sudden  rain 
Discended  from  the  hils,  and  higher  ground^ 
The  sand  and  mud  the  chrystall  streams  do  strain. 
And  make  them  rise  above  their  wonted  bound 
To  overflow  the  fields  and  neighbour  plain. 
The  fruitfull  soyle  and  meadows  fair  are  drown'd, 
The  husbandman  doth  lose  his  grasse  and  hay. 
The  banks  their  trees,  and  bridges  born  away. 

So  when  the  leaves  begin  to  fall  apace. 
And  bough  and  branch  are  naked  to  be  seen. 
While  Nature  doth  her  former  worke  deface. 
Unclothing  bush,  and  tree, -of  summer's  green, 
Whose  sacred  spoyles  lie  thick  in  every  place. 
As  sands  on  shore,  or  stars  the  Poles  between. 

And  top  and  bottome  of  the  rivers  fill. 

To  angle  then  I  also  think  it  ill. 

All  winds  are  hurtfull  if  too  hard  they  blow,  * 
The  worst  of  all  is  that  out  of  the  east. 
Whose  nature  makes  the  fish  to  biting  slow. 
And  lets  the  pastime  most  of  all  the  rest. 
The  next  that  corns  from  countrys  clad  with  snow 
And  Artick  pole,  is  not  offensive  least. 
The  southern  winde  is  counted  best  of  all. 
Then  that  which  riseth  where  the  sun  doth  fall. 


Best  time  and  season  iv  Angle. 

But  if  the  weather  stedfast  be  and  clear,t 
Or  overcast  with  clouds,  so  it  be  dry. 
And  that  no  sign  nor  token  there  appear 
Of  threatning  storm  through  all  tlie  empty  skie. 
But  that  the  ayre  is  calm,  and  void  of  fear. 
Of  ruffling  windes,  or  raging  tempests  high. 
Or  that  with  milde  and  gentle  gale  they  blow. 
Then  is  it  good  unto  the  brooke  to  go. 

*  I  finde  no  difference  of  windes,  except  too  cold  or  too  hot, 
which  is  not  the  winde,  but  the  season. 

t  Cleare  cannot  be  good,  by  reason  of  the  offensive  sight. 

TOL.  II,  H.  K  And 


498 

And  when  the  floods  are  falne  and  past  away,' 
And  carryed  have  the  dregs  into  the  deep, 
And  that  the  waters  wax  more  thin  and  gray;, 
And  leave  their  banks  above  them  high  and  steep. 
The  milder  stream  of  coKur  like  to  whay, 
Within  his  bounds  his  woiited  course  doth  keep. 
And  that  the  winde  iS  south  or  else  by  west,     / 
To  angle  then  is  time  and  season  best. 

Whe;n  fair  Auroi a  rising  early  shewes* 
Her  blushing  face  bejond  the  eastern  hils, 
And  dyes  the  heavenly  vault  with  purple  rewes, 
That  far  abroadthe  world  with  brightnesse  fils. 
The  meadows  green  are  hoaie  with  silver  dewes. 
That  on  the  earth  the  sable  night  distils, 

And  chanting  birds  with  merry  notes  bewray 
The  near  approaching  ot  the  chearfull  dfiy. 

Then  let  him  go  to  river,  brook,  or  lake,    ,,  . . 
That  loves  the  sport,  where  store  offish  abound^ 
And  ihrough  the  pleasunt  fields  bis.i.ourny  make. 
Amidst  sweet  pastures,  meadows  fresh  and  sound. 
Where  he  may  best  his  choice  of  pastime  take. 
While  swift  Hyperion  runs  his  circle  round} 
And  as  the  place  shall  to  his  liTiiug  prove. 
There  still  remain,  or  further  else  remove. 


To  know  each  Fishes  haunt. 
Now  that  the  Angler  may  the  better  know 
Where  he  may  find  each  fish  he  doth  require. 
Since  some  delight  in  waters  still  and  slow. 
And  some  do  love  the  mud  and  slimy. mirej 
Some  others  where  the  stream  doth  swiftly  flow. 
Some  stony  ground  and  gravell  some  desire  : 
Here  shall  he  learn  how  every  sort  doth  seeke 
To  haunt  the  layre  that  doth  his  nature  like. 
Carp,  eele,  and  tench,  do  love,  a  muddy  ground, 
Eeles  under  stones  or  hollow  roots  do  lie; 
The  tench  among  thick  weeds  is  soonest  found. 
The  fearfiill  carpe  into  the  deep  doth  flie. 
Bream,  chub,  and  pike,  where  clay  and  sand  abound,'"' 
Pike  loues  great  pooles,  and  places  full  of  frie : 
The  chub  delights  in  stream  or  shady  tree, 
And  tender  bream  in  broadest  lake  to  be. 

*  Vide  p.  500. 


499 

*The  salmon  swift  the  rivers  sweet  doth  like. 
Where  largest  streams  into  the  sea  are  led : 
The  spotted  trout  the  smaller  brook  doth  seeke. 
And  in  the  deepest  hole  there  hides  his  head ; 
The  prickled  pearch  in  every  hollow  creek,  * 
Hard  by  the  banke,  and  sandy  shore  is  fed, 
Pearch,  trout,  and  salmon  love  clear  waters  all. 
Green  weedy  roots,  and  stony  gravell  small. 
So  doth  the  bulhead,  gudgion,  and  the  loach. 
Who  most  in  shallow  brooks  delight  to  bee. 
The  ruffe,  the  dace,  the  barbi  11,  and  the  roch, 
Gravell  and  sand  do  love  in  lesse  degree. 
But  to  the  deep  and  shade  do  more  approach. 
And  over  head  some  covert  love  to  see. 

Of  spreading  poplar,  oake,  or  willow  green. 
Where  underneath  they  lurke  for  being  seen. 

The  mighty  luce  great  waters  haunts  alway. 
And  in  the  stillest  place  thereof  doth  lie. 
Save  when  he  rangeth  forth  to  seek  his  prej'. 
And  swift  afnong  the  fearfuil  fish  do  flie ; 
The  dainty  humber  loves  the  marley  clay. 
And  clearest  streams  of  champion  country  high, 
And  in  the  cbiefest  pooles  thereof  doth  rest. 
Where,  he  is  soonest  found,  and  taken  best. 

The  cavender  amidst  the  waters  faire. 

In  sv^iftfst  streams  doth  most  hiraselfe  bestow. 

The  shad  and  twfeat  do  rather  like  the  laire 

Of  brackish  waves,  where  it  dolh  ebbe  and  flow. 

And  thither  also  doth  the  flock  repaire, 

And  flat  upon  the  bottorae  lieth  low. 

The  peele,  the  mullet,  arid  the  suant  good. 
Do  like  the  same,  and  therein  seek  theii:  food. 

But  here  experience  doth  my  skill  exceed,    ' 
Since  divers  countries,  divers  rivers  have. 
And  divers  rivers  change  of  waters  breed. 
And  change  of  waters  sundry  fish  do  crave. 
And  sundry  fish  in  diveijs  places  feed. 
As  best  doth  like  them  in  the  liquid  wave : 
So  that  by  use  and  practice  may  be  known 
More  than  by  art  or  skill  can  well  he  shown, 

*  The  trout  lies  in  the  deepe,  but  feeds  in  the  streame,  under  a 
bush,  bray,  foame,  &c. 

K  K  2  So 


50Q 

So  then  it  shall  be  needtesse  to  declare 
What  sundry  kind^  there  lie  in  secret  store. 
And  where  they  do  resort,  and  wliat  they  are 
That  may  be  still  discovered  more  arjd  more : 
Let  him  that  list  no  pain  nor  travell  spare 
To  seek  them  out  as  I  have  done  before. 
And  then  it  shall  not  discontent  his  minde. 
New  choice  of  place,  and  change  of  game  to  find. 


The  lest  houres  of  the  day  to  Angle. 

From  first  appfearing  of  the  rising  sun,  * 
Till  nine  of  clock  low  under  water  best 
The  fish  will  bite,  and  then  from  nine  to  noon. 
From  noone  to  four  they  do  refrain  and  rest. 
From  four  again  till  Phcebus  swift  hath  run 
His  dayly  course,  and  setteth  in  the  west: 
But  at  the  file  aloft  they  use  to  bite. 
All  summer  long  from  nine  till  it  be  night. 
Now  lest  the  Angler  leave  his  took  behinde 
For  lack  of  heed,  or  haste  of  his  desire. 
And  so  inforced  with  unwilling  minde; 
Mast  leave  his  game,  and  back  agaio  retire 
Such  things  to  fetch,  as  there  he  cannot  finde 
To  serve  his  turn  when  need  shall  most  require: 
Here  shall  he  'have  to  help  his  memory 
A  lesson  short,  of  every  wants  Supply. 

Light  rod  to  strike,  long  line  to  reach  withall. 
Strong  hook  to  hold  the  fish  he  haps  to  hit : 
Spare  lines  and  hooks,  whatever  chance  do  fall, 
■Bait-s  quick  and  dead  to  bring  them  to  the  bit, 
i  Fine  lead  and  quils,  with  corks  both  great  and  small. 

Knife,  file,  and  thread,  and  little  basket  fit. 

Plummet  to  sound  the  depth  of  clay  and  sai>d, 
With  pole  and  net  to  bring  thein  bafe  to  land. 

And  now  we  are  arrived  at  the  last 
In  wished  harbour  where  we  mean  to  rest. 
And  make  an  end  of  this  our  journy  past: 
Here  then  in  quiet  road  I  think  it  best 

.  *  The  morning  can  no  way  be  good,  because  the  fish  have  been 
at  reliefe  all  tlie  night,  as  all  other  wilde  creatures.  And  on  the 
day  they  rest  or  sport;  in  the  evening  is  the  fittest,  then  hunger 
begins  to  bite. 

W« 


501 

We  strike  our  sailes  and  stedfast  anchor  cast. 
For  now  the  sun  low  setteth  in  the  west, 
And  yet  boat-swains,  a  merry  carroll  sing 
To  him  that  safely  did  us  hither  bring. 


Would' St  thou  catch  fish  f 
'  Then  here's  thy  wish; 
Take  this  Receipt 
To  anoint  thy  Bait. 

Thou  that  desirest  to  fish  with  line  and  hook, 
Be  it  in  pooIe,  in  fiver,  or  in  brook. 
To  blisse  thy  bait,  and  make  the  fish  to  bite, 
Loe  here's  a  means  if  thou  canst  hit  it  right ; 
Take  gum  of  life,  fine  beat,  and  laid  to  soak  * 
In  oyle,  well  drawn  from  that  which  kils  the  oak: 
Fish  where  thou  wilt,  thou  sbalt  have  sport  thy  fill. 
When  twenty  fail,  thou  shalt  be  sure  to  kill,  f 

Probatum. 
It's  perfect  and  good 
If  well  understood : 
Else  not  to  be  told 
For  silver  or  gold.  R.  R. 


Certain  Observations  forgotten. 

Chevau  and  chub  are  one. 

/-Shottrell,  I,  yeare,^ 

rp,  ^  J  Pickerell,  2,  yeare,  I 

Ihe  •<  „.,       „  ■"     '  ■'        '  >  are  one. 

]  Pike,  3,  yeare,         f 

LLucb,  4,  yeare.       J 

*  I  have  heard  nmch  of  an  oyntmentthat  will  presently  cause 
any  fish  to  bite,  but  I  could  never  attain  the  knowledge  thereof, 
the  nearest  in  mine  opinion  (except  this  Probatum)  is  the  oyle  of 
an  ospray,  which  is  c.illed  Aq\iila  marina,  the  Sea  .^agle.  She.is 
of  body  neare  the  bignesse  of  a  goose  ;  one  of  her  feet  is  web'd  to 
Swim  withall,  the  other  hath  tallents  to  catch  fish.  It  seemes  the 
fish  come  up  to  her,  for  she  cannot  dive.  Some  likelihood  there 
js  also  in  a  paste  made  of  Coculus  Indie,  Assa  foetida,  hony  and 
wheat  flower,  but  I  never  tried  them,  therefore  I  cannot  prescribe. 

"}•  That  which  kils  the  oake,  I  conjecture  to  be  ivy,  till  I  change 
my  minde. 

This  excellent  receipt  divers  Anglers  can  tell  where  you  may 
buy  them. 

K  K  3  The 


S02, 

The  summer,  May,  June,  and  July,  are  fittest  for  Angliti^. 

Fish  are  the  fattest  in  July. 

Fish  commonly  spawne  at  Michaltide. 

After  spawning  they  be  kipper,  and  out  of  season. 

They  thrust  up  little  brooks  to  spawne,  tlie  trout  and  salmon 
will  have  lying  on  their  backs. 

All  the  summer-time,  great  fish  go  downwards  to  deepes. 

Barre  netting,  and  night  hooking,  where  you  love  Angling. 

When  you  angle  at  ground,  your  line  must  be  no  longer 
than  your  rod. 

He  that  is  more  greedy  of  fish  then  sport,  let  him  have  three 
or  foure  angles  fitted  and  baited,  and  layd  in  several!  pooles, 
you  shall  some  times,  have  them  all  sped  at  once. 

If  you  go  foorth  in,  or  immediately  after  a  showre,  and  take 
the  water  in  the  first  rising,  and  fish  in  the  streame  at  ground 
with  a  red  worme,  you  may  load  your  sede  if  there  be  a  store. 
Thus  may  any  botcher  kill  fish. 

For  want;  of  a  panier,  spit  your  fish  by  the  gills,  on  a  small 
wicker,  or  such  like. 

I  use  a  pouch  or  parchment  with  many  severall  places  to 
put  my  hookfs  and  lines  in. 

I  use  a  rod  of  two  parts,  tojoyne  in  the  midst  when  I  come 
to  the  river,  with  two  pins,  and  a  little  hempe  waxed,  thus 
the  pins  joy  ne  it,  the  hempe  fastens  it  firmely. 


ib.4: 


A  whale-bone  made  round  no  bigger  than  a  wheat-straw  at 
the  top,  yields  well,  and  strikes  well. 

Let  your  rod  be  without  knots;  they  are  dangerous  for 
breaking,  and  boughts  are  troublesome. 

Keep  your  rod,  ueither  too  dry  nor  too  moist,  lest  they  grow 
brittle  or  rotten. 

■•,    When  you  angle  in  drought,  wet  your  rod,  it  will  not  break 
so  soone. 

You  shall  hardly  get  a  rod  of  one  piece,  but  either  crookt, 
top  heavy,  or  unequall  growne. 

Enterprise  no  mans  ground  without  leave,  breake  no  mans 
hedge  to  his  losse. 

Pray  to  God  with  your  hearte  to  blesse  your  lawful!  exercise. 


The 


5'°3 


^1  The  rates  of  the  cus tome  house  lothe  inwarde  and 
outwarde  the  dyfference  of  measures  and  weyghts  and 
other  comoditi.es  very  necessarye for  all  marchantes  to 
kno we  newly  correctyd  andiniprynted.  An.M.D.XLV. 
^  Imprynted  at  London  ly  me  Rycharde  Kele,  daiel- 
lynge  at  the  longe  skoppe,  in  the  Poallrye  vnder  saynt 
Myldreds  churche. 

[concluded  from  p.  409.] 

Padduke  the  C.  elles 

Pyglyng  the  C.  elles  contey.  xii  score  elles 

Poldaues  the  bolte 

Paper  the  hondreth  pounde  -  v  1. 

Perosen  the  C.  pounde 

Proynes  the  C.  pounde 

Paynters  oyle  the  barrel 

Prages  the  groce 

Playng  cardes  of  Frenche  makynge  the  groce 

Pouche  rynges  other  syngle  or  double  the  groce 

Pouches  wyth  lockes  the  groce 

Pouches  with  stele  rynges  the  groce 

Porses  for  chyldren  the  groce 

Purlynge  wyer  the  dossen  pounde 

Pipes  ihe  bale  co~ley.  x  groce 

Pipes  the  groce  is  commoly  cast  at 

Prymers  prynted  the  groce 

Pynnes  the  dossen  thousande 

Paynted  clothes  the  dosse~ 

Paynted  trenchers  the  groce 

Paynted  papers  y^  real  me 

Paynted  papers  the  quea're 

Pressing-i  papers  the  C.  leues  -  -  xs  d. 

Paris  mantyls  the  pece 

Plate  white  or  blacke  double  or  syngle  hundreth 

pounde  -  ?  X  s, 

Plate  white  the  barell  -  ,  xx  s. 

Pursewyer  the  dossen  pounde  v  s. 

P.ickeihrede  the  C.  pounde  -  x  s. 

Packenedels  the  thousa"d  -  iii  s.      itii  d. 

Pitche  the  laste  xx  s. 

Playninge  labels  the  dossc"  -  iiii  s. 

K  K.  4  Portyngale 


XX  s. 

XX  s. 

X  s. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  dv 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

X  s. 

x  s. 

B         X  S. 

xlviii  s. 

xxiiii  s. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

iiii  s. 

xxvi  s. 

viii  d. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

XX  s. 

ii  s. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

ii  s. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

XIU  s. 

Hu  et. 

iiii  s. 

iiii  s. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d> 

ii  s. 

viii  d> 

vi  s. 

iiji  d> 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

ii  s. 

vid. 

V  s. 

xii  s. 

XX  d. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d'. 

- 

iiii  d. 

504 

Portyngale  skynnes  the  dossen 

Painted  coffers  the  neste  vz.  iii  toone 

Persers  the  dossen 

Pauyng  stones  the  tbousande 

Pyppyns  the  barrell 

Pyppyns  the  busshell 

Poundgarnettes  the  M.  -  - 

Playster  of  parys  the  mounte 

Penners  alone  the  groee 

Penners  and  ynclc  homes  the  grace 

Paces  the  grbce 

Pynsens  the  dossen  .  .  - 

Parmacete  the  pounde 

Poyntesof  threde  the  smalle  groce 

Poyntes  thegreategroce  co'teining  xii  smalle  groce  iiii  s. 

Peres  the  barrell  ii  s. 

Patten  nayles  the  some  -  -  ii  s. 

Perkettes  the  groce  -  -     '  ii  s. 

Pesing  threde  the  dossen  poifd  -  xiii  s.      iiii  d.. 

Paper  the  bale  conteininge  x  realme  at  xvi  d.  the 

realme  -  -  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Paper  demy  the  realme  -  ii  s. 

Paper  royall  the  realme  -         iii  s.     iiii  d, 

Papercalledbrownepaperthehundrethbondelsxxxiii  s.      iiii  d. 
Paper  called  browne  paper  the  bondel  -  iiii  d. 

Quyltes  the  dossen                 -                  -  xxx  s. 

Qiiyltes  the  pece                  -                   -  ii  s.       vi  d. 

Quycksyluer  the  hundreth  pounde           -  xxxiii  s.      iiii  d. 

Quycksyluer  the  pounde             -  -                     iiii  d. 

Queine  stones  the  last  contey.  xii  payre  -        xl  s. 

Quayles  the  dossen  xx  s. 

Qiierne  stones  for  inusterde  the  last  x  s. 

Quantum  centum  frigidqrum  the  pounde  -         iiii  d. 

Kyce  the  C.  pounde  -  -  x  s. 

Rosealgar  the  C.  pou~d  -         xxxiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Raynes  boultell  the  dossen  xxiiii  s. 

Raynes  boultell  ihe  pece  -  ii  s. 

Rosset  the  pounde  -  -  vi  d. 

Redde  lede  the  C.  pounde  -  x  s. 

Rape  oyle  the  last  -  -  viii  1. 

Rape  oyle  the  barrell  -  -  xiii  s.      iiii  d. 

Redde  lasshe  the  dossen  -  -  ii  s. 

Reddehides  thedekarconteynyngeten  skynnes  xxxiii  s.     iiii  d. 
Rone  knyues  the  standerde  v  s.     ' 

Racket 


XX  d. 

xii  d. 

viii  d. 

V  s. 

ii  s. 

XX  s. 

li  s. 

XX  d. 

- 

XX  d. 

xvi  s. 

viii  d 

iiii  s. 

iiii  s. 

505 

Rackes  for  crosbowes  the  pece  -       '     * 

Rounde  boxes  the  dossen 

Rasures  the  deaker 

Rasures  the  groce 

Rossen  the  C.  pounde 

Rossen  the  pece 

Raysons  the  hundreth  pounde 

Raysons  the  pece 

Redes  or  canes  the  hundreth 

Redes  or  canes  the  M, 

Ribbonde  or  caddas  the  dossen  paces 

Redde  herynge  the  cade 

Redde  herynge  the  last  conteyninge  xx  cades  iiii  1. 

Redde  herynge  the  M.  -  -  viii  s. 

Rattels  the  M.  -  -  x  s. 

Rackets  the  dossen  -  iiii  s. 

Soult  whichethe  hundreth  ellesco'teinynge  vi  score 
elles  -  -  XXX  s. 

Spruce  yarne  the  hundreth  pounde  -  xxvi  s.     viii  d. 

Spruce  here  the  barrell  -  -  x  s. 

Sypres  cotten  the  dosse"  yardes  -  xx  s. 

Sarsnet  of  flora  ce  raakyng  the  pece  -  xl  s. 

Sendall  the  pece  -  -  xx  s. 

Satten  out  of  grayne  the  yarde  v  s. 

Satten  righte  crynxisin  in  grayne  or  purple  the 
yarde  -  -  -  x  s. 

Satten  counterfete  crymsin  the  yard  -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Satten  tynseld  with  gold  the  yarde  -  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Satten  of  bruges  the  yarde  -  -  xx  d. 

Satten  of  bruges  counteifete  tynselde  the  yarde      iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Sylke  throwne  the  li  -  -         xiii  s.      iiii  d. 

Sylke  rawe  &  died  the  po~de  -  viii  s. 

Sylke  longe  vz  twelue  ou~ces  to  the  pounde  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Sylke  shorte  vz  twelue  ou'ces  to  the  pound?  iiii  s. 

S.  thom~s  worsteds  y^  pece  -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Sayes  the  pece  -  -  x  s. 

Synnamon  the  C.  pounde  -  x  li. 

Saunders  the  hundreth  pound  -  Is. 

Suger  the  cheste  -  -  iii  li. 

Suger  the  C.  pounde  -  -  xx  s. 

Suger  candy  the  dz^  cheste  poinz  one  hundreth  xxxiii  s.      iiii  i, 

Sehe  the  C.  pounde  -  vli 

Scanaony  a  drugge  the  li.  -  -  vis.     viji  d. 

Setwall  the  hundreth  pounde 

S^lte  petre  the  C  pounde  -  xx  s, 

Spignar4ff 


5o6 

Spignarde  arote  the  pou'de  -  -  i"i  ^■ 

Sope  blacke  the  laste  -        vi  li. 

Sope  whyte  the  pounde 

Saffrone  the  pounde 

Stauesacre  the  C.  pounde 

Socage  the  pounde 

SyiTope  the  pounde 

Syluer  of  bruges  the  maste 

Spectacles  the  groce 

Spectacles  cases  the  grocs 

Swerde  blades  the  dosse" 

Sheres  the  groce 

Shermen  sheres  the  payer  newe 

Shermen  sheres  the  payer  olde 

Sysers  the  groce 

Spurres  the  groce 

Stele  the  dz  barrel! 

Salte  called  bay  salt  the  waye 

Salte  the  barrell 

Salte  the  busshell 

Swan  quylles  the  M. 

Swannes  the  pece 

Styrops  the  dossen 

Spruce  skinnes  for  hosse~  y'=  dose" 

Saddels  of  stele  the  pece 

Sipres  chistes  the  neste 

Stokfysshe  called  lubfysh  the  last 

Stokfysshe  the  hu~dreth 

Stokfish  called  cropting  the  last 

Stokfysshe  the  hundreth 

Stokfysshe  called  tytling  the  last 

Stokfysshe  the  hundreth 

Salmonde  the  laste 

Salmonde  the  barrell 

Salmonde  gyrles  the  laste 

Salmonde  gyrles  the  barrel 

Saltfysshe  the  laste 

Staple  fysshe  the  hifdreth 

Small  fysshe  the  C. 

Sele  fysshe  the  pece 

Shankes  the  pane 

Salt  hyds  tbe  dekar 

Sparres  the  hundreth 

Spones  of  aulcamyn  the  groce 

Salte  sellers  the  groce 

Slippc 


_ 

xd. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

_ 

XX  s. 

- 

iiii  d. 
iid. 

viii  s. 

V  s. 

X  s. 

vs  s. 

viii  d. 
viii  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

iiii  s. 

viii  s. 

XX  s. 

iii  li. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 
xii  d. 

- 

iiii  d. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

ii  s. 

iiii  s. 

X  s. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

- 

xls. 

xl. 

X  s. 

vl. 

x  s. 

Is. 

. 

\  V  s. 

xi  li. 

xviii  s. 

iiii  d. 

vi  li. 

X  s. 

iii  li. 

- 

XX  s. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

iii  li. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

X  s. 

X  s. 

5^7 


Slippe  tli.e  barell 

. 

H  s.' 

Sawes  the  dossen  great 

- 

xii  s. 

Sculles  tlie  pece 

viii  d. 

Sprigges  the  some 

- 

iii  s. 

iiiid. 

Sanguis  draconis  the  poude 

. 

- 

vi  d. 

Sylke  sayes  the  yarde 

- 

V  s. 

Spceres  without  hcd>1s  the  C. 

xl  s. 

Spares  wyth  heddes  the  hundreth 

iii  li. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

StoraK  liquide  y'=  C.  1. 

iii  li. 

vi  s. 

viii  d. 

Sponges  the  pounde 

- 

iiii  d. 

Sail  armonyake  the  pounde 

Standysshes  the  pece 

- 

iid. 

Squirtes  the  c'ossen 

. 

ii^s. 

Stortes  the  dossen 

- 

xiii  s. 

iiii  d. 

ShoLiellers  the  dossen 

- 

viii  d. 

Tryacle  of  flau'ders  the  barrel!  -  xx  s. 

I'ryacle  of  leane  the  pou'de 

Tarmaret  the  C.  pounde  -  xl  s. 

Torbith  the  pounde 

Tornseli  the  hundreth  -  xxxiii  s. 

-Tartron  thepostconteinyngtwelueshorte paces  vi  li. 

Tikes  the  pece  -  vi  s. 

TafFctta  the  yarde  -  iij  s. 

TafFetta  narrowe  the  yarde 

Tynne  foyle  the  groce 

Tynne  glasse  the  hundreth  -  xl  s. 

Tikes  for  beddes  the  dossen  -  xxxvi  s. 

Tikes  the  pece  iii  s. 

Tapistry  wyth  sylke  the  ell 

Tapistry  wyth  caddas  the  ell 

Tapistry  of  woll  the  ell 

Tapistry  wythout  sylke  caddas  or  woll  the  elle 

Trane  the  barrell  -  xiii  s. 

Threden  rybbonde  the  dossen  peces  conteynynge 

thre  papers  iiii  s. 

Threden  ribbonde  the  groce  -  ii  s. 

Thymbels  the  M.  -  -  vs. 

Troye  wayghtes  the  dossen  li  -  vs. 

Tayler  shcres  the  dossen  vi  s. 

Tasels  tlie  kyue  ccTteini'g  v  C. 

Tasels  the  pipe  -  xl  s. 

Tasels  the  thousande  -  -  iii  s. 

Tabull  men  the  groce  -  -  viii  s. 

Towe  fyne  the  C.  pounde  -  v  s. 

To  we  the  C.  pounde  -  -  iii  s. 


iiii  d. 

xii  d. 
iiii  d. 

viii  d. 
iiii  d. 
XX  d. 
xii  d. 


XX  d. 
xii  d. 
viii  d. 
vi  d. 
iiii  d. 


viii  d. 
viii  d. 

iiii  d. 


iiii  d. 
Trajes 


5o8 


Trayes  the  flocke  conteynyng  xl              -  vs. 

Teinter  hookes  the  M.                 -                 -  x  s. 

Tauelynges  the  ho~dieth                      -  _vi  s.     viii  d^ 

Turpentyne  the  C.  pounde                  -  iiii  s. 

Trenchers  the  thousande                     -  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Trenchers  the  C.                                  -  -              iiii  d. 

Trenchers  paynted  the  groce                  -  ii  s. 
Tyrrets  the  groce 

Tarre  the  laste                     -                   -  xx  s, 

Tartorary  the  pounde                   -                   -  xii  d. 
Threde  called  wotenall  threde  the  dossen  pounde   v  s. 

Threde  the  butte                                             -  xii  d. 
Threde  the  bale  conteynynge  a  hundreth  buttes  v  li. 

Tables  the  flocke                  -                   -  vs. 

Tables  to  wryt  on  the  groce                 -  xlviii  s. 

Tre~chers  the  mau~de  or  baskete                 -  xx  s. 
Turkey  satten  the  pece 

Tankerdes  the  flocke                 -                 -  vs. 

Typpes  for  homes  the  C.                 -                 -  iiii  d. 

Typpes  of  homes  the  M.                 -  iii  s.     iiii  d. 

Vernysshe  the  C.  pounde                 -                 -  x  s. 

Venecreke  the  C.  pounde                     -  vs. 

Vermylyon  the  hundreth  pou~de  xl  s. 

Veluet  ryght  crymysyn  in  graine  the  yarde  xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Veluette  of  all  collors  out  of  grayne  the  yarde  vii  s.       vi  d. 

Venys  rybbo~de  the  li                 -                  -  xiii  s.      iiiid, 

Venys  syluer  the  pounde                      -  xl  s. 

Venys  gclde  the  pounde                  -  xl  s. 

Vyneger  the  tonne                  -                  -'  xxx  s. 

Virginales  the  payre                 -                 -  iii  t.      iiii  d. 

Vysers  the  dossen                   -                  -  ii  s. 

Veluet  bagges  small  the  dossen                 -  vs. 

Veluet  bagges  great  the  dosse"  xx  s. 

Verde  grece  the  C.  pounde                   -  xl  s. 

Vials  the  pece                                        -  iiii  s. 
Vittery  canuas  the  belle  conteyning  ii  c.  and  a 

halfe  -  -  iii  li. 

Vittery  canuas  the  ballet  co"teynyng  i  C.  and  a 

quarter  -  xxxiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Wyne  of  gascoyne  or  swete  wyne  the  tonne  iii  U. 

Wol  cardes  newe  the  dosse  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Woll  cardes  olde  the  dossen                 -  iiii  s, 

Woll  gyrdels  the  groce             -                 -  jiii  s. 

"Whigteiing  bellowes  the  groc                 -  viii  s. 

Waynskottee- 


509 

Waynskottes  the  hundreth  -                 xl  s. 

Wodmall  the  pece                 -  -               xiii  5,     iiii  d. 

Walnuttes  the  pype  -            x  s. 

WalnuttLS  the  barrel                     -  -                 xx  d. 

Wyer  for  clarycordes  the  pou'd  -                     iiii  d. 

WoU  called  esteryche  woll  the  C.  -            xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Woodnuttes  the  Cli.                 -  .              vis.     viiid. 

Whightynge  the  laste                 -    ■  -             xl  s. 

Wyer  the  hogges  heads                 -  -           Is. 

Wyer  the  C.                     -  -                   xx  s. 

Woll  oyle  called  trane  the  tone  -         iiii  1. 

Woad  of  goscoyne  the  pipe  lii  pou  d  -            vi  s.     viii  d. 

Woad  of  the  lie  of  Surrey  the  ballet  -           x  s. 

Woad  of  the  lie  of  Assorns  the  ballet  -         x  s. 

Worsted  of  say  nthomas  the  pece  -            vis.     viiid. 

White  kydes  the  mantell               -  -             ii  s. 

Whipcorde  y'  skoke  cal.  merli~g  -               vs. 

Worsted  called  rissell  the  pece  -                x  s. 

"V^olfgs  lynynge  the  pece  -                      vi  s.     viii  d. 

Wax  the  hundreth  pounde  xl  s, 

Wymples  for  wemen  the  pace  -                 -          xii  d, 

Worstede  threde  the  dosse  pou'de  -             ix  s. 

Wod  crosses  for  bedes  the  groce  -             iii  s.     iiii  dj 

White  lede  the  C.  pounde  -                    x  s. 

Worme  sede  the  C.  pounde  V  1. 

Whetstopes  the  C.  wayes  -                 xii  d. 

Wrytynge  tables  the  groce  -                xlviii  s. 


^  The  rate  outwa/rde. 

Honnye  the  barrell 

Thromes  the  C.  pounde 

Tynne  wrought  the  C,  li 

Tyni^e  wrought  in  roddes  the  hundreth 

Tynne  called  Deuonshyre  tinne  the  block 

Tynne  called  Cornysh  ti~ne  the.  block 

Leade  the  folder 

Leade  the  C.  pounde 

Leade  the  folder  caste 

Leade  the  C.  pounde  caste 

Shreddes  the  pipe 

Shreddes  or  lystes  the  barrell 

Skinnes  called  buffes  skynnes  the  pece 

Conny  skinnes  th  hundreth 

Leade  the  folder  caste 


iiii  1. 
vl 


X  s. 

X  s. 

xxvi  s. 

viii  d. 

xxvi  s. 

viii  d, 

XXV  s. 

XV  s. 

iiii  s. 

V  s. 

xls. 

XX  s. 

vl, 


LCade 


5-1  o 

Leade  the  C.  pounde  caste  -               '    '^  «• 

Worstedes  the  pece                 -  -              xx  s. 

Shreddes  the  pipe  -                   x'l  s. 

Shreddes  or  listes  the  barrell  -                  xx  s. 

Connie  siiynnes  gray  seasonede  the  thousande        xl  s. 

Stagge  the  thoasande                        -  xx  s.        ' 

Stagg-e  the  hundreth           '  ii  s. 

Conny  skinnes  blacke  the  C.  xxxiii  s.      iiii  d. 

Lambe  skvnnes  bhcke  the  hn  dreth  tawed  xiii  s.      iiii  d. 

Lambe  skitmes  white  the  C.  -                 x  s. 

Shepps  skinnes  tawed  tor  hosse~  the  dossen             vi  s.     viii  d. 

Broke  skynrfes  or  felles.als  kyddes  the  hundreth  xx  d. 

Calues  skinnes  the  dossen  -                    iii  s.      iiii  d. 

Alablaster  the  loode             ■     -  "             xiii  s.      tiii  d. 

Chess  the  waye                      -  -                   x  s. 

Butter  the  barrell                    -  -                  x  s. 

Pitche  and  tarre  the  iaste  xl  s. 

Pytche  &  tarre  the  barrel  -                     iii  s.      iiii  d. 

Wodenuttes  the  C.  pou~d  -                     vi  s.     viiid. 

Starche  y'-  dosse~  pou~d  for  allie~s  -                           vi  d. 

Starche  the  dossen  poonde  tor  EhgHjshemen  vs. 

Candilstickes  the  dossen  -                 '      x  s. 

Copper  the  hundreth  pou~de  -                  xx  s.          •'•'' 

Oyie  thetonne                  -  iiii  1.                 .''iV-fT 

Bere  the  pipe  -■      x  s.     '    ■'■^^ 

Eger  bere  the  tonne                   -  -                is.          i  ''-' 

Tallowe  the  way                    -  -                  xs.  •  :• '.'''^^^ 

Glasse  broken  the  barrell                  -  -                   xx  d. 

Blowynge  homes  the'  dossen  -                 iiii  s. 

Eoughe  homes  thf  M.  -                     x  s. 

Home  typpes  the  M.                  -  -              iii  s.      iiii  d. 

Capers  the  pipe                  -  -                  xl  s.      • 

Poldaues  the  pece                   -  -                  x  s. 

Cotes  the  chalder                    -  -                  vi  s.     viiid. 

Waxe  the  hundreth  p'ounde  xl  s.  ' 

Wemens  hosen  the  dosse"             -  -          vi  s.     viii  d. 

Madder  the  C.  poande                 -  x  s, 

Flaxe  the  bate                         -  vi  ].     xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Orcheli  the  C.  pounde                  -  .          xiii  s.     iiii  d. 

Bokeram  the  pece~                 -  -                vs. 

Coiirs  cappes  the  dosSen                 -  vi  s.     viii  d. 

Bagges  the  dossen                 -  .                jii  s. 

Florey  the  pounde  -                       xii  d 

Claphoke  smalle  (he  C.  iii  s.      iiii  d. 

Claphulte  greate  j"  C.                 .  iii  I     vi  s.     viii  d.- 

Parmacet 


iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

xl  s. 

iii  s. 

iiii  d. 

XXX  s. 

X  s. 

-xxxiii  s. 

iiii  A. 

. 

XX  d. 

vi  s. 

viii  d, 

iiii  d. 

XX  d. 

xvi  s. 

viii  d, 

vis. 

viii  d^ 

511 

Parmacet  the  pounde  : 

Musty  meale  the  laste 
Musty  malte  the  quarter 
Vynyger  the  tonne 
Osmondes  the  barrel 
Arsnicke  the  C.  pou~d 
Emery  stones  the  hundreth 
Horscliowes  the  hu~dreth 
Lynnen  clothe  the  elle 
Bacon  the  fleche 
Bell  mettell  the  C.  poud 
HatwoU  cours  the  C. 

^  The  rate  outwarde  of  clothe. 

One  long  cloth  makyth  one  shorte  cloth  and  vii  yardes. 

vi  Statutes  for  a  clothe. 

vi  Strayghtes  for  a  clothe. 

vi  Stokbredes  for  a  clothe; 

vi  Cardinall  whightes  for  a  clothe. 

vi  Tauestockes  for  a  clothe. 

iiii  Iselonde  dossen  for  a  clothe. 

iiii  pe~ny  stone  vi'hightes  for  a  clothe. 

iiii  Narrow  northe'  dosse"  for  a  clothe.  '        ^ 

iii  Karsayes  for  a  clothe. 

iii  Neubery  whightes  for  a  clothe. 

Fyfiy  goades  cotten  for  a  clothe. 

ii  Erode  northern  dossen  for  a  clothe. 

ii  Bridge  waters  for  a  clothe. 

ii  Florentyse  for  a  clothe. 

One  bastarde  longe  for  a  clothe. 

And  the  thirde  parte  of  a  clothe. 

One  bastarde  shorte  for  a  clothe. 

^  The  contente  of  measures. 

One  Flemisshe  elle  makithe  iii  quarters  of  a  yarde  englisshc. 
ii  Flemisshe  elles  makithe  one  yarde  dz.  englisshe. 
iiii  Flemysshe  els  maketh  iii  yardes  Englysshe. 
XX  flemisshe  elles  inakithe  xv  yarde  englysshe. 
A  thousande  Flemisshe  elles  makith  vii  C.  and  1.  yardes  en- 
glisshe. 
Med,  that  x  flemisshe  elles  makith  vi  elles  englishe. 
-A.  C.  Flemisshe  elles  maketh  Ix  elles  englysshe. 
ii  C.  flemisshe  elles  maketh  a  C.  and  xl  elles  englisshe. 

One 


513 

Ctae  Lydos  elle  inakith  v  quar. 

One  frenche  elle        ters  of  ayarde  en. 
One  englisfibe  elle  glysshe. 

^  The  iracis  of  liaise. 

V  braces  makithe  iii  yard  englisshe. 

X  braces  makith  vi  yardes  englisshe. 

XV  braces  mekith  ix  yardes  englissh. 

XX  braces  makith  xii  yardes  englissh. 

A  hundfeth  braces  makythe  Ix  yardes  Englisshe 

^  The  Faunes  of  leane. 

iii  Pawnes  makylhe  one  yarde  Englysshe. 
vi  Pawnes  makythe  ©ne  yarde  dz  Englisshe, 
xii  Pawnes  makethe  iii  yardes  Englisbe. 
xxiii  Pawnes  makyth  vi  yardes  Englisshe. 
xlviii  Pawnes  makyth  xii  yardes, 

^  The  Fares  of  Spay  ne. 

iiii  Vares  dz  makythe  iii  yardes  Englysshe. 
ix  Vares  makithe  viii  yardes  Englysshe. 
xviii  Vares  makithe  xvi  yardes  Englysshe. 
xxxvi  Vares  makith  xxxii  yardes  Englysshe. 

^  Dyfference  of  wayghtes. 

«[[  Fyrst  of  the  wayght  of  Troye  the  trewe  on~ce  wayeth 
xxvii  d.  whych  were  coyned  tempore  Henrici  Sexti. 

Apou~de  of  thys  wayght  wayetb  xii  ounces. 

A  gallon  of  wyne  wayeth  viii  pou~de. 

Abusshel  of  wheate  co~teyncth,in  measure  viii  gallons. 

A  quartoruc  of  all  maner  of  grayne  moteq  by  a  bushell  co- 
teineth  viii  busshels. 

By  thys  wayght  is  bought  and  solde  golde,  silaer,  perle,  pre- 
cious stones  and  iewels. 

Also  breade  is  solde  by  thys  wayght. 

1}  Auncell  wayghte. 

Auncel  wayght  is  a  disceyuable  and  a  false  wayght,  wherfore 
it  is  forbydden  by  the  kynges  acte  of  parliamente. 

^  Tower 


5J3 

*f  Tower  wayght. 

A  pounde  of  Tower  wayght  wayeth  of  the  Troy  x;  ounces  i 

quarter. 
The  pou'de  of  Troy  wayght  wayeth  xii  ounces. 
The  pou'd  of  tower  wayght  in  golde  of  englysshe  coyne, 

xxvi  li  X  a. 
The  one  Of  the  tower  wayght  wateth  in  golde  xl  s. 
And  the  coynage  of  a  pou  de  of  golde  of  the  tower  wayght  is 

viii  s.  vid.     . 
The  coynage  of  the  ounce  is  viii  d. 

^  Lyinge  watfghle. 

Thys  Lyinge  and  Haburdy  peyse  is  all  one  the  pounde  cd'tetn- 

..  yng  Xvi  ounces  Of  trOye. 

B}'  thys  wayght  men  bye  and  sell  all  maner  of  marchaun- 
dyses,  as  leade,  iron,  tynne,  copper,  stele,  ^^axe■,  woad,  and 
sylkes,  threde,  he~pe,  fiaxe,  ropes,  tallowe>  and  al  maner  of 
siiche  other' marchaundyses. 

^  Sprvce  wayght. 

The  rewle  in  Spriice  lande  is,  that  who  sO  euer  byeth  any  mar- 
chaundyses there  by  wayght  he  shall  bye  it  by  these  >yayghtes 
folowyrige  Viii  lyspoundes  facit.  c.  ii.  xx.  lispoundes  facit  a 
shyp  pounde  one  shyp  pounde  facit.  C.  C.  1.  1.  xx.  shyp 
^ioutades  facit,  v.  M.  1. 1.  - 

\  Of  marchauniysts  in  dyiiers  coitntreyes. 

^  Fyrste  in   Spruce  la~de  very  good  Wollon  clothe,  Couer- 

lettes,  Tyune,  leade  and  baye  sake. 
^  Into  Isdande.  Course  Enrfyssjje  clothe,  maUe,  here,  wyne, 

sallettes,  &  gauntlettes,  long  swerdes,  lynnen  clothe,'  amber 

bedes,  kOyues,  pOintes,  glasses>  aUd  combes,  freSshe  butter 

&e^ar  bastarde. 

5f  For  IfelcmSe. 

%  Good  niarchandyse  for  Irlonde  is  woUen  cloth,  spisery, 
habardassher  ware  and  sganyshe  Iron. 

5[  The  rewle  of  Ostelage  in  Spayne, 

'^  Fyrste  the  fopes  and  ca~uaa  of  the  bales,  be  fpr  the  O^t?  ex- 
cept ye  talje  the  goodes  oat  unsolde  agayijie 

In  prinius.a  brOde  cioth  ppyeth                       -  xii 

Ascarlette  xxxiiii 

A  longe  clothe  .  xviii 

A  northen  jdosen  vi 

vol..  II,                            1,  L  ^  li.arsay 


SH 


A  karsay 

A  karnall  vvhytc 

A  statute 

A  pece  of  cotton 

A  dossen  karsay 

A  western  e  dossen 

A  pece  of  chainlet  - 

A  tabull  of  chanilettes 

A  pece  of  satten 

S  gas  &  saynteomers  worstedes  - 

A  dossen  of  calues  skynnes 

A  drye  hyde 

A  pece  of  tynne 

A  sowe  of  leade 

A  bagge  of  alotne  - 

A  bagge  of  galles 

A  bagge  of  pepper 

A  bulte  of  dates 

A  bagge  of  gray  ne 

A  barrell  of  vessell 

A  cheste  of  suger 

A  serone  of  sope 

A  barrell  of  pepper* 

A  kyritall  of  pepper 

A  sacke  of  orchell  -  - 

A  barrell  of  tallowe 

A  pipe  of  tallowe 

A  barrell  of  dates  - 

A  pipe  of  pepper 

^  The  rewle  of  saynt  Georges  chappell  at  saynt  Lucas 
in  Spayne,  wherhy  Englysshe  me  liaue  theyr  priui- 
lege. 

•^  Fyrste  a  skarlet  clothe                          -  xxxiiit 

A  london  clothe                         -  -                    viii 

A  bHstowe  or  hamptori  clothe  -                      viii 

A  northern  dossen                         -  -                   iii 

A  karsay                           -  -       ,                 iii 

A  brode  mede                         -  -                         iii 

A  bridge  water                          -  -                       iii 

A  pece  of  cotton                        -  -                     ii 

A  pece  of  worstede                         -  -                 vi 

Tauestockes  tawntons  meltons  -                         i 

And  sake  hydes  a  laste                  -  -                  xxxiiii 

Drye  hydes  a  laste                       -  -                 ■  i 

A  pype  of  tallow                        -  -         •         viii 

A  barrel 


V 

li 

ii 

^i 

iii 

ii 

iiii 

CCsl 


V 

vii 
ii 

XXX 

XX 

xti 

xvi 

Ixx 

xl 

Ixx 

l_x 

xxvii 

x 

Ixx 

X 

xi 

X 

xxxiiii 

xxxtii 

C 


315 

A  barrell  of  lallowe                         -  -                ji 

A  great  blocke  of  tynne                      -  -               xii 

A  smalle  blocke  of  tynne                 -  -               vi 

■  A  smalle  pece  of  leade                         -  -              ,  ii 

A  barrell  of  wrought  peut'er  -                         iiii' 

A  tonne  of  oyle                         i  -                       x 

A  tonne  of  alome                         -  -                     x 

A  tonne  of  wyne                         -  -                     vi 

A  tonne  of  fygges  ahd  raysons  -                         v 

A  cheste  of  sugar                         -  -                  viii 

A  bagge  of  annessedes,  coninyj  or  ryce  -              ii 

A  butte  of  dates                 ,       -  .-                      vi 

A  serone  of  sope,  a  bale  of  paper,  a  pece  of  Chamlet  ii 

A  kynlall  of  waxe                          -  liii 

A  kyntall  of  almondes                         -  -             i 

A  rone  of  grayrie                         -  -                   iii 

A  kyntall  of  pepper                         -  -                 x 

A  sacke  of  orchell                         -  -                   vi 
Ahd  all  other  wares  tiot  rehersed  the  qiiartel  in  the  huridfeth. 

FINIS.  J.  H. 


^  A  Cdueat  for  Comrfien  Cvrsetors  vvLgafely  cdUed 
Vagahones,  set  forth  ly  Thomas  Harman;  Esquier: ' 
for  the  vtilite  and  proffyt  of  hys  naturall  Countrey. 
Newly   ugmented   and  Imprinted.      Anno  Domini. 
M.D.LXFII.     Vewed,  examined  and  allowed,    ac-; 
wording    vnto    the    Queenes   Maiestye's  Iniunctions.< 
[Wood-cut,  rudely  executed,  of  a  horse  and  cart  with 
two  rogues  fasteried  at  the  tail  and  a  man  w^hipping 
them. J     Imprinted  at  London   in  Fletestret  at  ike 
signs  of  the  Faulcon  ly  WylUam  Gryffith,  and  are 
to  he  solde  at  his  shoppS  in  Saynt  DunstoneS  Chiir'che 
yarde  in  the  West.  *  qto.  extends  to  H  ii. 

*  Back  cti  the  title,  a  representation  of  the  three  distinct  articles 
necessary  to  make  a  birch  broom,  placed  vertically ,  and, described  as 
*'  Thre  thinges  to  be  noted  all  in  their  kynde, 
A  staff,  a  beesom,  and  with,  that  wyll  wynde." 
And  over  the  saine,  lying  as  a  bl-oorti  pnited, 

''  A  beesome  of  byrche,  for  babes  verye  fyt,  '  ■ 

A  longe  lastinge  lybbet  for  loubbers  as  meete; 
A  wyth  to  wynde  vp,  that  these  wyll  not  keepe; 
Byiide  all  vp  in  one>  and  vse  it  io  sweepe." 

L  L  2  A  valuable 


A  valuabfe  Correspondent  has,  in  the  preceding  pag^s 
of  this  volume,  communicated  an  account  of  a  similar 
work  with  the  present,  called  The  Fraternitye  of  Uaca- 
hondes,  Sic.  of  which  the  first,  edition  is  supposed  to 
have  appeared  .in  1565 :  hut  it  it  is  probable  it  was 
printed  earlier,  and  is  alluded  to  in  the  following  passage 
of  our  author's  Epistle  Dedicatory.  •'  There  was  a  fewe 
yeres  since  a  small  breefe  set  forthe  of  some  zelous  man 
to  his  countrey  of  whom  I  knowe  not,  that  made  a  lytic  , 
shewe  of  there  names  and  vsage,  arid  gaue  a  glymsinge 
ly^hte  not  sufficient  to  perswad  of  their  peiiyshepeltinge 
and  pickinge  practyses,  but  well  worthy  of  prayse."  In 
another  place  he  says,  "  these  two  names  a  Jarkeman 
and  a  Patrico  be  in  the  old  briefe  of  vacabondes,  and  set 
forthe  as  tvvo  kyndes  of  euell  doers  1"  and  which  are  in 
the  list  already  given  in  the  present  volume  at  p.  14. 

Thomas  Harman,  the  author,  calls  himself  a  "  poore 
gentleman  j  [to]  haue  kepte  a  house  these  twenty  yeares, 
where  vnto  pouerty  daylye'  hath  and  doth  repayre,  not 
without  some  releife  as  my  poore  callinge  and  habylytie 
maye  and  doth  extende,"  and  afterwards  has  "  I  haue 
hadde  some  of  them  brought  before  me  when  I  was  in 
commission  of  the  peace." 

The  Dedication  is  rather  inconsistently,  for  such  a  work* 
addressed  "  (o  the  Ryght  HonorabJe  and  my  singular  gdod 
Lady  Elizabeth  Coantes  df  Shrewsbury,"  though  founded 
upon  her  benevolenCe  and  charitable  disposition.  "  I  vv-el,  (he 
says)  by  good,  experience  vnderstandinge  and  consideringe  your 
most  tender,  pytyfull,  gfentle  and  noble  nature,-  not  onelye 
bauinge  a  Vygelant  and  mercifull  eye  to  your  poore  indygenie 
and  feable  parishnores,  yea  not  onely  in  the  pa rishe  where 
y.our  honour  tnost  happely  doth  dwell,  but. also  in  others,  in- 
tiyroninge  or  highe  adioyninge  to  the  sapie.  As  also  abditn- 
dantly  powryiige  out  dayly  you/  aident  and  bountifull  chary- 
tie  vppon  all  such  as  cotpmeth  for  reliefe  Vnto  your  luckely 
gates.  I  thought  it  good,  necessary,  aiid  my  boanden  dutye 
to  acquaynte  your  goodness  with  the  abhominable,  wycked 
and  detestable  behaiior  of  all  these  ro^i^sey,  ragged  rabblement 
of  rakehelles,  that  vnder  the  pretence  of  great  misery,  dyeases 
and  other  innumerable  calamities  whiche  they  fayne  through 
gieat  hipocrisye  do  wyn  and,  gayne  great  almes  in  all  places 
where  they  wyly  wander,  to  thb  nter  deludinge  of  the  good 

„  geuers. 


S^7 

geuers,  deceauinge  and  impouerisliing  of  all  sucbe  poore 
houshalders  both  sicke  and  sore,  as  nether  can  or  mayt  walke 
abroad  for  reliefe  and  comforte,  where  in  dede  most  mercy  is 
to  be  shewed," 

He  also  observes  "  as  far  as  I  can  learne  or  vnderstand  by 
the  examination  of  a  nombcr  of  them,  .their  lauguag,  which 
they  terme  peddelars  Frenche  or  canti"g  began  but  w'^in  these 
XXX  yeres,  lytle  aboue,  and  y^  the  first  inuenter  therof  was 
hanged  all  saue  the  heade;  for  that  is  the  fynall  end  of  thetn 
all,  or  els  to  dye  of  some  filthy  and  horible  diseases  :  but  much 
harme  is  don  in  the  mean  space  by  their  continuance,  as  some 
X.  xii.  and  xvi.  yeies  before  they  be  consumed  and  the  nom- 
ber  of  them  doth  dayly  renew.  I  hope  their  synne  is  now  at 
y^.  highest,  and  that  as  short  and  as  spedy  a  redres  wyl  be  for 
these,  as  hath  bene  of  late  yeres  for  the  wretched,  wily  wan- 
deringe  vagabondes,  calling  and  naming  them  selues  Egiptians, 
depely  dissemblinge  and  longe  hydinge  and  couerringe  their 
deepe  decetfull  practises,  fedinge  the  rude  common  people 
wholy  addicted  and  geuen  to  nouelties,  toyes,  and  newe  inuen- 
tions,  delytinge  them  with  the  strangenes  of  the  attyre  of  their 
heades  and  practisinge  paumistrie  to  suche  as  woulde  knowe 
their  fortunes." 

The  derivation  and  defence  of  the  title  to  the  work, 
with  some  amusing  observations  on  the  language  then 
used,  is  given  in 

"  The  Epistle  to  the  Reader.  Although  good  Reader  I  wright 
in  plain  termes  and  not  so  playnly  as  truely,  concerning  the 
matter  meaning  honestly  to  all  men>  and  wyshe  them  as  much 
gopd  as  to  myne  owne  harte,  yet  as  there  hathe  bene  so  there 
is  nowe,  and  hereafter  wylbe,  curyous  beds  to  finde  fauttes, 
wherefore  I  thought  it  necessary  now  at  this  .seconde  impres- 
sion to  acquaynt  y*^.  with  a  great  faulte  as  some  takethe  it,  but 
none  as  I  meane  it,  callinge  these  Vagabonds  Cursetors  in  the 
intytelynge  of  my  booke  as  runneres  or  rangers  aboute  the 
cQuntrey,  deriued  of  this  Laten  word  (cvuro)  neither  do  I 
wryght  it.  Cooresetores  with  a  duble  oo  or  Cowresetors  with  a 
w  which  hath  an  other  singnification;  is  there  no  deuersite 
betwen  a  gardein  and  a  garden,  maynteynaunce  &  mainte- 
nance, streytes  and  stretes,  those  that  haue  vnderstanding 
kjiowe  there  is  a  great  dyfference,  who  is  so  ingnorantby  these 
dayes  as  knowetb  not  the  meaning  of  a  vagabone,  and  yf  an 
ydell  Jejiterar  should  so  be  called  of  eny  man,  would  not  he 
tbi'k  it  bothe  odyous  and  reprochefuU,  wyll  he  not  shonne 
the  name?  Ye  and  where  as  hemaye  and  dare^  w'.  bent  browes 
I.  1.  3  wyjl 


P8 

wyll  reueng  that  name  of  ingnomy,  yet  this  playne  nanae 
vagabone  is  deryued  as  others  be  of  Latcn  'wordes,  and  now 
vse  makes  it  commen  to  al  men,  but  let  vs  loke  back  four, C 
yeres  sithens,  &  let  vs  se  whether  this  playri  word  vagabon  was 
vsed  or  no,  I  beleue  not  and  why,  because  I  rede  of  no  such 
name  in  the  old  estatutes  of  (his  realme  vnles  it  be  in  the  mar- 
gente  of  the  booke,  or  in  the  table,  which  in  the  collection  and 
'  pryntinge  was  set  in,  but  these  were  then  die  com~en  names 
I  of  these  leud  leuterares,  faytores,  robardesnien,  drawlatches,  & 
valyant  beggares,  yf  I  should  haue  vsed  suche  wbrdes  or  the 
same  order  of  wry  ting  as  this  realme  vsed  in  kynge  Henry  the 
thyrd  or  Edward  y".  fyrstes  time:  *  oh  what  a  grose  barberous 
fellow  hgue  we  here  his  wryting  is  both  homely  and  darke 
that  wee  had  nede  to  haue  an  interpretar,  yet  then  it  was  verye 
well  and  in  short  season  a  great  change  we  see:  well  this  dely- 
cat  age  shall  haue  his  tyme  on  the  other  syde  j  elequence  haue 
T  none,  I  peuer  was  acquaynted  with  the  muses,  I  never 
tasted  of  Helycon.  But  accordinge  to  my  playne  order,  I  haue 
set  forth  this  worke  symplye  and  truelye  with  such  vsual  words 
and  termes  as  is  aimong  vs  we]  known  and  frequented." — 

The  characters  described  are  "  a  rufflerj  "^  a  Vpright 
pianj'^    a  hoHer    or   Angglear:''    a   Roge;^    a   Wylde 

"  [Roberdesmen,  wastors  and  drawlatcheg,  are  najnes  ufed  jn 
Stat.  5  Ed.  3.  c.  14,  Feitors  and  vagabonds,  7  Rich.  2d.  C.  5.] 

^  "  So  called  in  a  statute  made  for  the  punishment  of  Vacabonds 
iii  ibe  xxvij  ytare  of  kyng  Henry  th^  eight  late  of  most  faraiibs 

memory Eyther  he  hath  serued  in  the  warres,  or  els  lie  hath 

bene  a  seruin'g  ni'an  and  weary  of  well  doing,  shakinge  of  all 
payne,  dotli  chuse  him  this  ydle  lyfe,  and  wretchely  wanderes 
ab  Alt  the  most  shyres  of  this  realme." 

"^  "  Some  bee  seruing  men,  artificers  and  laboryng  men  traded 
vpin  husbandry;  These  not  minding  to  get  their  lyuing  with 
y-'.  swet  of  their,  face,  but  casting  of  all  payne  wyll  wander  after 
their  wycked  maner.V  ' 

d  "  Peryllous  and  most  wicked  knaues  and  be  deryued  or  pro- 
cede  forth  from  the  vpright  men,  they  commenly  go  infrese  ier- 
kynes  and  gaily  slopes  [q.  gaily  slopes]  poynted  benethe  the  jcije 

They  customably  carry- yith  thepi  a  staffe  of  v  or  vi  foo'te 

long,  in  which  wjthin  one  yiich  of  y^.  tope  there  of  is  a  litle  hole, 
bored  through  m  whjch  hole  they  putte  an  yron  hoke  and  with 
fhe  same  they  wylt  plucke  vnto  them  quicly'  any  thing  y'.  they 

may  reche  th^r  with I  was  credebly  informed  that  a  hoker 

i-ame  to  a  farmers  house  in  the  ded  of  the  flight,  and-puttingbacke 
a  drawe  window  of  a  low  cha~ber,  the  bed  standing  hard' by  tRe 

sayde 


S^9 

Roge;  f  a  piygger  of  Prauncers;  s  a  Pallyardcj''  a  Pra- 
ter;' a  Abraham  man;''  a  fresh  water  Mariner,  or 
Whipiacke;'  a  Counterfet  Cranke;  "  aDommerar;"  a 
4ronken  Tinckar ;  °  a  Swadder  or  Pedler ;  f  a  Jairke  main, 

and 

sayde  \yyi>do\y?,  in  which  laye.  iii.  parsones  a  raar\  and  two  bygge 
boyes,  this  hoker  with  his  staffe  plucked  of  their  garrtie"ts  which 
lay  vpqn  them  to  kepe  them  warme  with  the  couerlet  and  shete 
and  lefts  them  lying  a  slepe  naked  sauing  there  shenes,  and  had 
away  all  cleane,  and  neuer  could  vnderstande  where  it  became:  I 
verely  "Suppose  that  when  they  wer  wel  waked  with  cold  they 
surely  thought  that  Robin  goodfelow  (accordinge  to  the  old 
saying)  had  bene  with  them  that  night." 

'  "Neither  so  stoute  or  hardy  a g  the  vprightman.  Many  of 
thera  will  go  fayntly,  and  looke  piteously,  when  they  see  either 
raeete  any  person,  hauing  a  k^rglier  as  white  as  my  shooes  tyed 
aboute  their  heade,  \yith  a  short  ^t^fFe  iri  their  hand,  halting,  al- 
though tljey  nee42  not,  requiri'g  almes,  ^c." 

f  ;'  He  that  is  borne  a  roge,  he  is  more  subtil  and  more  geuen 
by  nature  to  all  kinde  of  knauery,  then  the  other." 

s  Horse  stealers.  "  These  go  commonly  in  jerkins  of  leather 
or  of  white  ftese,  and  carry  little  wandes  in  their  hands." 

*■  "  Called  also  Clapperdogens,  these  go  with  parched  clokes, 
&  haiie  their  Morts  with  them  which  they  cal  wiues." 

'  "  Gary  blacke  boxes  at  their  gyrdel,  wherin  they  haue  a  brief 
of  the  Queenes  maiqsties  letters  patentes  geuen  to  such  a  poore 
spitlehouse  for  the  reliefe  of  y=.  poore  ther:  which  briefe  is  a 
coppie  of  the  letters  patentes,  &  vtterly  fained." 

^  "  Fayne  themselues  to  haue  bene  mad,  and  haue, bene  kept 
eyther  in  Bedleam,  or  in  some  otlier  prison  a  good  tyme,  and  not 
one  araongest  twenty  that  euer  came  in  pryson  for  any  suche 
cause.''         f         •  '  '  ■ 

1  "  Their  shlp?s  were  drowned  in  the  playne  of  Salisbury. 
These  'kynde  of  caterpillers  coiinterfet  great  Josses  on  the  sea, 
these  be  some  Western  men,  and  most  be  Iryshmen." 

"  "  Yong  knaues  and  yong  harlots  that  depely  dissemble  the 
falling  sicknes  5  for  the  cranke  in  their  language  is  the  fallyng 
euyll." 

n  "  Leud  and  mOst  fubtill  peoplf  i  the  most  part  of.  these  are 
Walch  meji,  and  wil  peuer  speake,  ynlesse  th'ey  haue  extreame 
'punishmente,  but  will  gape,  and  with  a  maruelo^s  force  wil  hold 
dovvne  their  toungs  doubled,  groninge  fgr  your  chanty,  &c." 

o  "  Called  also  prygges,  be  beastly  people  &  thes?  yong  knaues 
bethe  wurst."    ,     : 

p  !'  Be  not  all  euyl But  for  as  much  as  they  seeke  gayne 

L  L  4  vnlawfuUy 


5«o 

and  a  PatricQji  a  Demaunder  fpr,  glymmar;'  a  bawdy 
basket;'  a  Antem  Morte;'  a  Walking  Morte;«  a 
bore;''  aDell;v  a  KynchinMorte;^  a  Kyncbin  Co;''' 
JMext  an  account  of  "  their  vsage  in  the  night: With 
"  the  names  of  the  Vpright  men,  Roges  &  PalHardes." 
This  list  fills  near  three  pages  in  treble  columns,  and  is 
divided  under  those  several  heads;  many  of  the  tiames 
have  an  alias  appended,  or  other  description,  as  '^  John 
Herwood,  a  maker  of  wels,  he  will  take  halfe  his  ba^'- 
gaine  in  hand  &  when  be  bath  wfougbt  ii  or  iii  dales  he 


ynlawfully  aganst  the  lawes  and  statutes  of  this  noUe  realme  tlie.^ 
are  well  worthy  to  be  registred  among  y".  nomber  of  vacabonds." 

1  "  Jarlcmane  bathe  his  name  of  ajarke  which  is  a  seale  in  their 
languag,  ^s  one  should  make  writings  and  set  seales  for  lycences 
arid  pasportes.    And  for  trouth  there  is  none  that  goeth  abdut  the 

countrey  of  thern  yt.  can  wryte,  &e A  patrico  and  not  a 

patriarch,  which  iii  their  langu§;e  is  a  priest  yt.   shonld  make 

manages  tyll  death  dyd  departe,  but  they  have  none  Suche 

so  that' I  wyll  not  blot  my  booke  wyth  these  two  that  be  not." 

r  "  For  the  most  part  wemen,  for  glymmar  ip  their  langyage  is 
fyre:  these  go  with  faynen  lycences  ^nd  counterfayted  wrytings, 
hauing  the  hands  and  seales  of  siiche  gentlemen  as  d^elleth  nere 
to  the  place  Where  they  fayne  themselues  to  hauc  bene  burnt  ai^ 
their^good  consuriied  with  fyre."  ' 

=  "  Also  wemen,  and  go  with  baskets,  &  capcases  on  their 
annes,  wherin  they  haue  laces,  pynnes,  nedles,  white  ynkell,  and 
round  sylke  gyrdels  of  al  colours." 

'  "  A  wyfe,  naaried  at  y=.  churche,  and  they  be  as  chaste  as  a 
cow." 

u  "  Not  maryfd,  these  for  their  vnhappye  yeres  doth  goe  as  a 
Antem, Morte,  and  wyll  saye  their  hvisbandes  died  eyther  at,New- 
hauen,  Ireland  ;  or  in  so^e'seruice  of  the  Prince.  These  make 
laces  vpon  staues  &  purses  that  they  cary  in  their  hands,  and  why  te 
vallance  for  beddes.''  •      . 

X  A  woman  made  a  prostitute  by  the  Vpright  man. 

y  "  A  young  wench." 

z  "  A  lytle  gyrie,  the  mortes  their  mother?  carries  them  at 
their  backes  in  their  slates,  whiche  is  their  shetes,  and  bryngs  them 
vp  safely  tyll  they  grow  to  be  rype,  and  sobn  rype,  soon  rotten.'^ 

a  "  A  younge  boye,  traden  vp  to  suche  peuishe  purposes,  as 
youhaue  hard  of  other  young  ympes  before,  thatwhen  he  gtoWeth 
tviro  yeres,  he  is  better  to  hang  than  to  drawe  forth." 

^       runneth 


^21 

Tunnpth  away  with  his  earnest."  A  specimen  of  their 
latiguage  is  also  given,  from  which  an  extract  will  have 
its  value,  by  shewing  the  species  of  dialect  repeatedly  al- 
luded by  early  writers  as  pedlars  French.  "The  author 
observes 

"  Here  I  set  before  thee  good  reader,  the  l^ud  lousey  lan- 
guage of  these  lewtering  lusjtes,  and  lasy  lorrels,  wher  with 
ihey  bye  and  sell  the  common  people  as  they  passe  through 
the  country.  "Which  language  they  terme  Peddelars  Frenche, 
a  ynknowen  tong  onely,'but  to  these  bold  beastly  bawdye  Beg- 
gers,  and  vaine  Vacabondes,  being  halfe  myngled  with 
Bnglyshe,  when  it  is  familiarly  talked  and  fyrste  placing 
thinges  by '  their  proper  nanies,  as  an  introduction  to  itbi^ 
peuysh  speeche. 

"  Nab,  a  head. 

Nabchet,  a  hat  or  cap. 

Glasyers,  eyes. 

A  smeling  chete,  ^  nose. 

pan,  a  mouth. 

A  pratlynge  chete,  a  tounge. 

Crashing  chetes,  teeth. 

Hearing  cfhetes,  ears. 

Fambles,  handes. 

A  famblinge  chete,  a  rynge  on  thy  hand. . 

Quatomes,  a  body. 

A  commission,  a  shierte. 

Drawers,  hosen. 

Stannpers,  shqoes. 

A  lag  of  duds,  a  buck  of  clolhes. 

A  slate  or  slats,  a  sheete  or  shetes. 

Mynt,  gqlde. 

A  borde,  a  shyllinge.  ,  ". 

Fiagg,  a,groate. 

A  wyn,  a  penny. 

A  mak6,  a  halfepenpy. 

Antem,  a  church. 

Salomon,  a  alteror  masse. 

Patrico,  a  pj'iest. 

Nosegent,  a  nunne. 

A  gyggar,  a  doore. 

The  lightmans,  the  daye. 

The  darkaia~s  the  night. 

Y<'.  quyer  custyn,  y^.  Justicer  of  peace. 

The  harma~  beck,  the  counstable. 

The 


52? 

The  harmanes,  the  stockes. 

To  skowere  y'-'.  cramprjngs,  to  weare  boltes  or  fetters. 

To  cly  the  gerke,  to  be  whypped. 

The  ruffian  cly  thee,  the  deuell  take  thee." 

There  is  also  a  dialogue  where  "  the  Vpright  Cofe 
c^nteth  to.  the  Roge;"  but,  the  above  is  sufficient  illus- 
tration of  this  suSject,  whereof  it  may  be  remarked  that 
many  of  the  slang  phrases  are  yet  in  use,  and  retaiiied  by 
Grosein  his  Dictionary.  A  rude  representation  of  two 
culprits  placed  In  the  stocks,  with  four  lines  in  rhime 
over  them,  then  is  introduced :  other  four  lines,  and  a 
wood-cut  of  fetters  and  shackels,  i.  e.  hand-cufFs:  a 
similar  introduction  arnd  representation  of  whips  and 
rodsj  and  another  of  a  man  going  to  be  hanged.  "  Wl^yie 
this  second  impression  was  in  printinge  it  fortuned  that 
Nycholas  Blunt,  who  called  hymselfeNycholanGennyno 
a  counterefet  Cranke,  that  is  spoken  of  in  this  booke, 
was  fou~de  begging  in  the  whyte  fryers  (on  newe  yeres 
day  last  past)  Anno  Domini  1567,  and  commytted,  &c." 
whose  figure  is  given  as  standing  in  the  pillory.  The 
last  page  contains  the  writer's  farevVell. 

"■  Thus  I  conplude  my  bolde  beggars  booke 
That  all  estates  most  playnely  maye  see ; 
As  in  a  glasse  well  pollyshed  to  looke. 
Their  double  demeaner  in  eche  degree. 
Their  lyues,  their  language,  their  n?mes  as  they  be. 
That  with  this  warning  th^ir  myndes  may  be  warmed. 
To  amende  their  mysdeedes,  and  so  lyue  vnharmed. 
Finis.'' 

The  printer  to  fill  the  page  has  introduced  the  Virgin 
and  Child,  central  of  several  circles,  the  outer  one  of 
roses. 

Imprynted  at  London  in  Fletestrele  at  the  signe  of 
the  Faulcon,  ly  Wylliam  gryffith.  Jnno  Domni. 
1567.  the  eight  of  January. 

J.  H. 


The 


533 


^1   The  Hlsiorie  of  John  Lorde  Mandazze.  [Translated 
from  the  Spanish.     By  Thomas  De  la  Peend.  1565. 

12TO0.] 

Jf  we  may  judge  from  the  silence  of  our  predecessors 
in  the  field  of  bibliographical  research,  the  production,  of 
which  an  opportunity  ;iow  occurs  ,of  giving  some  ac- 
c;)unt,  tnay  be  ranked  among  those,  which,  frorn  the 
devastation  of  casually,  or  from  the  more,  gradual  con- 
sumption of  time,  is  arrived  at  that  pitch  of  rarity  which 
holds  out  the  mosi  irresistible  temptation  to  the  victims 
of  the  Bibliomania. 

To  gratify  the  curiosity  which  its  presumed  scarcity 
will  naturally  awaken  relative  to  its  contents,  I  have 
drawn  up  the  following  analysis,  so  far  as  the  mutilated 
fragment  before  me  would  allow,  (and  where  am  I  to 
look  for  a  more  perfect  copy?)  for  the  loan  of  which 
fragment  I  am  indebted  to  a  friend,  who' beguiles  the 
wearine^^  of  a  laborious  profession,  by  an  occasional  re- 
currence to  the  blandishments  of  antiquated  literature. 

Upon  first  glance  at  this  relic,  1  have  to  lament  the 
carelejisnesg  of  some  former  owner  in  whose  custody  the 
title-page  has  probably  met  with  destruction.  The 
remnant  consist?  of  sixty-four  unpaged  leaves,  one  being 
deficient  in  the  centre,  and  a  considerable  number  at  the 
conclusion ;  the  whole  perhaps  constituting  about  three 
fourths  of  its  original  bulk.  The  size  duodecimo,  though 
vvith  the  usual  octavo  signatures. 

From  the  register  of  the  Stationers'  Company  (the 
only  place  wherein  I  can  find  the  above  mentioned)  it 
appears  that  Thomas  Colwell  had  license  in  the  year 
1565  to  print  "  The  rnoste  riotable  history  of  the  lorde 
Mandozze."  It  will  be  remem'bered  that  Colwell  was 
likewise  the  printer  of  De  la  Peend's  translation  of  the 
fable  of  Hermaphroditus  and  Salmacis,  for  which  he  had 
license  in  the  same  year,  and  which  has  been  described 
\n  the  last  Number.  *     Of  the  translator  of  these  two 

*  Vide  No.  IX.  p.  344. 

pieces 


524 

pieces  as  little  seems  to  have  been  known  as  of  his  works; 
and  this  little  is  confined  solely  to  what  may  be  gleaned 
from  himself.  From  the  dedication  to  the  latter  work  it 
appears  that  he  bestowed  much  time  upon  a  translation  of 
Ovid,  but  that  he  was  anticipated  by  a  prior  publication, 
(^oubtless  Arthur  Gplding's.  This  he  dates  from  his 
?*  chamber  over  agaynstSergeaqts  inne  in  Chancery  lane. 

The  dedication  to  "  the  Historic  of  Lord  Mando^ze," 
which  is  the  first  leaf  of  the  fragment  before  me,  is  ad- 
flressed  in  the  following  words 

"  To  the  Itygki  Worshipfull  Syr  Thomas  Kemp, 
Knyght, 

"  Ryght  Worshypfull  Syr,  whe"  thankfulnes  haJ  presented 
unto  mineeies  the  bookes:  wbearein  the  names  of  my  frends 
are  imprynted.  if  founde  you  for  sundrye  causes  possessyng 
an  high  place  tbearein.  Whearfore,  though  it  fall  not  to  my 
fortune  presently, -to  acquit  &  discharge  my  duty:  yet  these, 
as  certaine  signe  of  my  good  will,  to  the  uttermost  of  my  small 
powre  may  gratefy  you  in  the  meane  time.  Which  as  they 
are  (y^  simple  frutes  of  my  small  orcheyard :  the  travayle  of 
piy  rude  Muse)  I  leave  to  the  judgment  of  the  learned  and 
dyscreate  readers.  Wisbynge  to  your  WiDrsfayppe  perfecte 
felicytye. 

From  the  mydle  Temple, 
your  ky~desmap :  to 
pominaund.     T. 
Delapeend." 

After  a  poetical  address  "  To  the  Reader,"  whereir^ 
he  deprecates  the  snarling  censures  of  those  who 

"  seeke  to  byte 

my  name  behynde  my  backe. 
To  saye  that  here  his  verse  is  lame, 

or  here  good  sencc  doth  lacke. 
For  I  ofte  times  have  heard 

the  vyle  despysed  sorte 
Blynd  ignorantes,  bt  worthie  bokes 

to  make  suqhe  rashe  reporte : 
That  when  in  order  good, 

they  could  not  read  the  same, 
They  doubted  not  by  slau"derous  wordes 

the  aucthors  to  defamej" 

follows 


follows 

"  The  /Argument. 

"  The  mercy e  of  God  is  merveylous: 
Which  whe"  it  pleaseth  him  to  exte'd 
On  men,  no  will  so  tnischevous. 
Can  it  pervert  from  perfect  end. 
As  in  tlVis  worthye  hystorye. 
It  by.  a  Ducbesse  maye  appeare. 
Which  faslye  of  adulterye 
Accused,  is  condemned  heare 
For  to  be  burned  in  a  fyre: 
As  then  the  custome  did  requyre; 
But  God,  which  still  defendeth  ryght> 
From  deathe  hath  her  delyveredj 
Bv  prowesseofa  Spanishe  knyght: 
Whom  afterward  shemaryed." 

After  a  short  exoi'dium  the  poem  opens  with  a  dt^- 
scfiption  of  the  person  of  "  Lord  John  of  Mandbssa." 
the  head  of  a  powerful  family  which  had  been  for  the 
space  of  forty  years  at  variance  with  the  neighbouring 
tribes  of  the  Tolledoes,  when  after  numerous  petty  con- 
tests at  length 

"  with  armyes  great 
they  met  theyr  mygbt  to  trye : 
By  dynt  of  swerd  they  Wold  discerfae 
theyr  tiiatters  by  &  by," 

The  numerous  retainers  of  Mandossa  were  of  course 
led  to  the  field  by  our  hero,  who 
"  IJyd  farre  excell  tliem  all 
in  every  exeicyse: 
Most  valiant,  most  actyve,  and. 

ryght  polityke  lyke  wyse. 
He  was  belove.d  muche 

of  all  the  comons  theare: 
Accepted  forhys  courtesye, 

with  prync^s  every  wheare. 
As  Pallas  payhted  had' 

his  minde  with  lerned  arte: 
Even  so  dame  Nature  then,  iriliym 

ryght  well  had  wrought  her  parte. 
His  lymmes  were  fynely  framd, 
hys  joyntes  so  strongly  kayt, 

i  That 


5^6 

That  as  the  Siinphonye  alwayes 

doth  please  the  eares  :'  so  It .      ' 
Ti'e  gasyng  eyes  of  naen 

doth  itill  de]yght  as  muche. 
No  payr.ter  For  liis  portrai,turc 

could  pycture  any  suche. 
The  Grekishe  paynter  tnyght 

an  hundred  graces  thtare 
Have  seene,  which  erst  in  so~dry  shapes- 
he  found  not  any  wheare. 
And  as  hys  shape  did  shew 

right  semelie  to  the  syglit, 
So  for  his  force  he  was  well  knowiie 

to  be  a  valiaunt  knight. 
In  anncyent  hystorjes, 

his  highe  renowmed  fame, 
Advaunced  hath  unto  the  skyes 

the  glorye  of  his  name." 

The  progress  of  the  battle  is  now  minutely  describedj 
atid  the  prowess  of  oar  hero  achieves  wonders;  but 
while  the  contest  is  yet  doubtful,  Isabel!  his  sister,  "  a 
lady  good,  which  for  these  thinges  was  sad,"  vows  that 
if  her  brother  inay  be  successful  she  will  make  a  pil-; 
frrimage  to  Rome  on  foot;  which  accordingly  happen- 
uig,  she  lakes  her  departure  from  Spain,  and  travelling 
through  France  at  length  reaches  the  city  of  "  Thurin," 
in  which  ancient  seat  the  Duke  of  Savoy  resided  with  his 
DuchesSj  the  beautiful  sister  of  the  King  of  the  happy 
isie  of  Brute,  who  to  say  no  more  of  her, 

"  as  to  Helen,  shee 

was  matche  for  goodly  grace: 
Even  so  her  fame  renoumed  was 

as  much  in  every  place." 

Isabel,  whose  curiosity  prompted  her  to  realize  the  re- 

Cort  of  fame  as  to  the  Duchess's  beauty,  chances  to  meet 
er  at  the  entrance  of  the  city  borne  in  "  a  horselitter 
with  horses  fayre,"  and  finding  fame  had  been  no  flat- 
terer, exclaims  in  the  Spanish  language, 

"  If  God  (saith  shee) 
Wold  grant,  my  brother  might  unto 

this  Ducjiesse  married  be : 
Then  might  I  well  be  bould  > 

(and  irueth  theriri)  to  saye. 

They 


they  were  y'  goodliest  couple  sure, 
in  Europe  at  this  daye." 

The  Duchess,  who  happens  to  understand  Spanish, 
knarks  well  the  disguised  pilgrim,  and  bids  a  page  follow 
and  invite  her  to  the  castle,. where  enquiries  and  mutual 
courtesies  past,  she  interrogates  Isabel's  meaning  in  thus 
exalting  her  brother's  praises.  The  shamefaced  Spaniard, 
feariul  of  offence,  craves  pardon;  but  meeting  with  en- 
couragementj  enlarges  upon  his  beailty,  so  as  to  inflame 
the  Duchess's  curiosity  to  a  pitch,  which  the  vision  of 
the  following  night  helps  to  heighten.     Upon  Isabel's 
departure,  she  gives  way  to  the  most  ungovernable  pas- 
sion, but  meeting  not  with  any  means  of  compassing 
her  object,    betakes   herself  to    the    usual    resort   of  a 
favourite   maiden,  her  confidant,  who  possesses  a  suf- 
ficient share  of  ingenuity  to  further  her  beloved  mistress's 
intrigue.    Accordingly  at  the  instigation  of  this  Emblin, 
and  by  the  help  of  a  skilful  leech,,  her  inamorata,  the 
Duchess  feigns  sickness,  and  is  afflicted  with  such  grievous 
fits,  that  the  best  physicians  of  Thurin,  who  are  sent  to 
her  assistance  by  the  Duke,  give  over  the  case  as  despe- 
rate, and  advise  her  to  lake  relief  in  her  spiritual  coun- 
sellors. By  these  she  is  exhorted  to  invoke  the  assistance 
of  the  saints,  and  Emblin,  improving  the  suggestion,  re- 
minds her,  as  had  been  concerted,  ifiaf  from  her  youth 
she  had  ever  worshipped  Saint  Janies.     Upon  this,  as  iri 
a  trance,  she  exclaims,   that,  if  by  the  intercession  of 
this  glorious  Apostle  she  should  recover  her  health,  she 
vows  to  pay  due  honour  at  his  shrine  in  Spain,  where  his 
body  is  interred.     And   now  recovering  to  the  surprise!  ■ 
and  joy  of  the  Duke  her  husband,  who  watched  alone  iri 
her  chamber,   the  whole  city  make  rejoicings,   in  the 
midst  of  which  the  lady  Isabel  arrives  accordifag  to  pro- 
mise, on  her  return  from  Rome,  and  the  Duchess,  re- 
lating her  illness  and  her  vow,,  they  agree  to  take  their 
journey  into  Spain  together:  the  Duke's  acquiescence 
being  obtained,  they  speedily   travel  oh,  accompanied 
with  fair  ladies  and  lusty  gentlemen^  until  they  reach 
Spain.     Having  desired  to  be  unknown,  until  they 

"  Arryve,  wheare  as  the  lustie  Lord, 
John  of  Mandozze  laye. 
The  Spanyshe  Ladye  prayes 

the 


5S8 

the  Duchcsse,  then,  that  she 
Maye  sende  to  shew  her  hrothei'  thai; 

arryved  theare  they  be. 
The  Duchessc  is  content, 

the  messenger  is  gqn) 
And  found  the  Lord  Mandozze  sontij 

to  whom  he  shewes  anon. 
How  that  the  Duchesse  is 

even  now,  arryved  theare. 
And  tels  y=  questions :  which  betwene 

her,  and  his  ?yster  weare: 
And  passynge  beautye  of 

the  Duchesse  doth  declare. 
Mandozze  then  right  gladly  doth 

hym  selfe  furthwith  pi'epare. 
With  fortie;  or  fyftie  of 

his  wdrlhyest  gentlemen, 
Ryght  bravelye  so  appointed  to 

receave  the  Duchesse  then, 
And  iti  his  mynde  he  thought, 

lio  Pryncessfe  was  so  free 
Or  careles  of  her  labour,  in 

that  age  arid  tyroe  :  that  shee 
A  foote  woiilde  undertake 
So  great  a  voyage  for  to  make. 
But  for  some  other  cause, 

but  what  therof  he  maye 
Conceave,  in  mind  right  well  he  dotii 

dissemble  that  alwaye. 
So  on  he  rydes,  tyll  that 

his  syster  doth  espye. 
Him  from  a  farre  iti  fyeldeS;  and  so 

she  sheweth  by  and  by 
Unto  the  Diichesse  how, 

he  which  comes  rydynge  heare 
jjppon  a  Genet  whyte  as  snowe : 

that  is  her  brother  deare. 
The  rest  his  isubjectes  are. 

Mandozze  Comming  nighe, 
Thryse  or  fdure  tinjes  at  least,  he  makes 

his  horse  to  mouiit  on  high. 
And  ieape  into  the  ayre, 

;  with  flynging  feete  aloft. 
On  this  syde  tprninge  thrise  about 

on  tliother  syde  as  ofti 

His 


5«9 

His  foote  on  ground  being  set 

with  cotnlie  grace  streigbtwaye 
When  he  had  kyste  the  Duchesse  hand, 

Madame,  then  dyd  he  saye,. , 
I  thinke  the  wandring  knightes 

that  lyued  longe  agpe 
And  sought  to  wyn  immortal  fame 

by  valiaunt  actes  also. 
If  they  had  found  suche  hap, 

admonge  aventures  great 
That  w'.  suche  worthie  Pylgremes  so 

they  might  somtime  have  met : 
Theyr  speare  and  harnes  they 
.  would  soone  have  layed  syde 
To  beare  your  burdens  in  the  waye, 

your  travaill  to  a  byde." 

The  Princess  then  returns  a  courtly  answer,  and  Lord 
Mandozze  escorts  her  to  his  castle,  each  deeply  impressed 
with  the  perfections  of  the  other;  and  each  telling  each, 
by  outward  gestures,  the  secrets  of  the  heart. 

At  this  period  of  the  poem  the  leaf  before  alluded  to 
has  made  its  escape;  but  it  would  appear  from  the  con- 
text that  the  Duchess's  discontented  mind  was  not  satis- 
fied with  the  attentions  of  her  lordly  devotee ;  for  she  de- 
termines, after  three  days  have  passed,  to  make  her  exit 
abruptly,  without  taking  leave  of  her  host.  So  thanking 
Isahell  for  her  courteous  entertainment,  she  departs  at 
break  of  day,  leaving  Mandozze  in  much  disorder  when 
he  discovers  her  ungracious  quittance :  but  presuming 
himself  to  be  in  fault,  he  soon  finds  pretext  for, following, 
and  having  overtaken  her,  passionately  devotes  himself 
to  her  service.  After  much  free  avowal  on  both  sides,- 
in  which  she  promises  to  give  satisfaction  for  her  fault 
on  her  return,  Mandozze  bends  home  with  feverish 
bosom,  leaving  the  lady  to  pursue  her  journey. 

"■  But  fortune  lyeth  in  watche 
and  doth  her  nettes  prepare. 
She  spoyles  them  of  their  pleasures  sone, 
and  turnes  theyr  joye  to  care," 

For  the  good  Duke,   uneasy  in   the  absence  of  his 

spouse,  and  being  apprehensive  of  the  imputation  which 

so  unguarded  a  journey  might  bring  upon  the  honour  of 

VOL.  II.  MM  a  king's 


53°- 

1  king's  sister,  takes  with  him  "  store  of  gentlemen," 
and  arrives  at  SI.  James's  town  by  sea,  before  the  dally- 
ing pilgrim  had  reached  it.  Oii  hearing  of  her  approach 
he  sends  his  attendants  to  meet  her,  and  she  plays  her 
part  with  much  finesse. 

,«  So  she  to  him  forthwith 

with  fayned  speede  doth  goe, 
And  lovelie  lookes  far  him  right  fine 

she  shaped  had  also^ 
Then  after  gretinge  sweete 

she  pytieth  his  paine 
That  he  in  danger  great  for  her 
such  travaile  should  sustayne. 
And  sorye  in  her  minde 

(she  sayth)  she  is,  therefore, 
r  But  for  Mandozze  lustye  knyght 
it  greved  her  the  more." 

At  the  shrine  of  the  saint,  however,  this  fond  dame 
experiences  a  conversion,  for 

"  her  praiers  ended  fyrst 

the  Duchesse  doth  anon 
Remember  in  her  minde 

her  loves  so  lewdlye  past. 
And  winnes  so  muqh  of  wyll,  that  she. 

repentyng.  knowes  at  last 
That  God  was  much  against 

her  enterpryses  styll : 
That  shee  the  Duke  unfaithfuUye 

deceyved:  should  fulfill 
Her  lust.    And  sorow  so 

doth  synke  within  her  brest. 
That  then  within  her  heavye  hart 

fiirthwith  she  doth  protest 
To  flye  her  fylthy  flame, 

and  further  to  forgett 
Mandozze  his  graces  all."  He. 

Being  now  become  penitent,  she  resolves  to  quench 
her  unallowable  affection,  by  departing  immediately 
from  the  land  where  it  had  been  cherished^  and  so  re- 
turns by  sea  with  the  Duke  .  ■    ' 

"  To  Thurin :  wheare  they  lyved. 
to  .gether  longe  in  joye. 
And  perfect  love." 

Their 


5^^ 

Their  domestic  happiness,  however,  is  to  liieet  with 
another  blow.  The  kingdom  of  France  being  invaded  by 
the  Almains,  the  Duke  of  Savoy  is  sent  for  by  the  King, 
to  take  the  command  of  the  French  army,  and  in  his 
absence  the  "  County  Pancalyer,"  in  whom  he  reposes 
much  confidence,  is  to  act  as  his  vicegerent.  But  the 
county,  elated  with  his  elevation,  begins  to  cherish  im- 
pure admiration  of  the  Duchess's  beauty,  and  having  the 
confidence  to  prfesent  his  loathsome  addresses  to  her  ear, 
is  rejected  with  lofty  indignation. 

"  She  chaufeth  much  that  he 

of  her  so  light  should  deeme : 
To  thinke  that  then  her  honour  shee 

so  lytle  should  esteeme. 
And  shame  to  him,  shee  saide 

that  lyved  all  that  whyle: 
And  yet  a  doting  fole,  could  not 

subdue  atFections  vyle." 

By  I  PftAcahn  still  persisting  in  his  advances, 

"  Countie,  she  saith  me  thinke 

the  warning  which  before 
I  gave:  might  have  pcrswaded  you 

to  trouble  roe  no  more: 
These  enter  pryses  rashe, 

and  will  you  styll  pursue : 
Forgettinge  how  my  lorde,  the  Ddke 

hath  heare  advanced  yOu.  ' 
Is  this  the  guerdon-  meate 

which  you  to  him  restore? 
And  dyd  he  make  you  his 

lieutenant  now  therfore. 
That  you  nppon  bis  bed 

the  rule  also  should  take  ? 
Is  this  the  right  discharge  which  you 

of  that  same  credyt  make  ? 
Is  this  (I  praye)  thallegeance  due. 

Or  servyce  of  a  subject  true  ? 
I  proroyse  you,  that  if 

you  will  not  thus  forgoe 
These  follyes,,  I  will  see,  that  yoa  ■ 

shalbe  corrected  so. 
That  subjectes  from  hence  furthe 

and  traytonrs  false,  they  shall 

M  M  2  Therby 


53^ 

Therby  exa'ple  take.     And  thus 

you  maye  be  warned  for  all. 
What  confydetice  (I  praye) 

myght  make  you  now  so  bould  : 
That  you, to  me  so  hardylye 

so  traytrous  roynd  uiifould: 
War  *  wyser  from,  hence  furthe, 

to  make  your,  matche  alwaye. 
I  am  your  princesse  whom  you  ought 

to  honour  and  obaye. — " 

[To  be  continued.] 

J.  J.  P. 


%  Sermo  lohis  Alcok,  epi~  Elien.  [Under,  a  wood-cut 
of  a  Bishop  with  his  crosier,  which'  is  repeated  on  the 
back  of  the  title.  Col.]  Enprynted  at  Westmestre 
hi  Wynkin  the  Worde.  n.  d.  qto.  extends  to  d  viij. 

A  sermon  by  John  Alcock,  Bishop  of  Ely,  the  founder 
of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge.  The  text  is  "  Jhesus 
clamabat  (Qui  habet  aures  audiendi  audiat.)  Luc.  viiij." 
And  the  writer,  in  enforcing  the  necessity  of  attending 
regularly  to  divine  worship  and  taking  the  sacrament, 
has  introduced  what  would  now  appear  singular,  a  di- 
rection to  his  hearers  to  obtain  full  knowledge  of  all  pro- 
clamations as  registered  in  the  Court  of  Chancery; 
citing  Magna  Charta  and  Bretton  in  support  of  his  ad- 
monition. 

Two  short  extracts  may  be  given  to  confirm  the  eluci- 
dation of  the  well  known  line  in  Hamlet,  "  Unhousel'd, 
disappointed,  iinanel'd."  Unanel'd,  which  first  occurs, 
applies  to  the  priest  adihinistring  extreme  nnction. 

"  This  sacrament  is  deprecatori  &  stondyth  in  prayer  ryght 
as  Cryst  prayed  vpon  y^  crosse.  So  in  mynistrac-on  of  this 
saciament  y".  preest  anelyng  dyuers  partes  of  mannys  body 
besechyth  almygjjty  god  that  what  soo  euer  thys  creature  hath 
■offendyd  in  his  hert.  by  his  eyen.  his  eeres.  hishondss  &  fete. 

*  Were. 

or 


333 

or  ony  other  part  by  the  whyche  he  hath  dysplesidJiym.  t» 
forgeue  hym." 

Unhousel'd  refers  to  the  eucharist. 

"  Noo  man  oughte  to  be  crystenyd  but  in  his  parysshe, 
chyrche.  nor  to  be  shryuen  by  the  lawe  but  df  his  curate, 
whyche  hath  charge  of  his  soule.  as  it  is  notid  (in  c 
Oi~s  extra  depe.  &  re)  Neuertheles  thcrbe  other  places  y', 
men  maye  be  shryuen  in  by  dispensac"on,  as  in  places  where 
pardons  ben.  And  to  certen  freres  whyche  ben  admytted  to 
here  confessyon.  Nor  he  ought  not  to  be  houselyd  but  in  his 
parissh  chirche  &  also  there  to  be  buryed.  except  he  chesr 
some  other  place  makynge  to  his  owne  chyrche  his  (vltimu* 
vale.)" 

The  new  fashion  and  wantonness  of  the  garments  thpn 
used,  does  not  escape  the  censure  of  the  good  Bishop, 
and  the  attempt  of  Lydgate  at  an  earlier  period  to  restrain 
a  similar  excess,  is  thus  described. 

"  Frendes  I  remembre  dayes  here  before  in  my  yongthe-  y'. 
there  was  a  vertuous  monke  of  Bury  callyd  Lydgate.  whiche 
wrote  many  noble  histories.  &  made  many  vertuous  balettes  to 
the  encrease  of  vertue.  &  oppression  of  vyce.  And  amonge 
other  he  made  a  treatyse  callyd  Galand.  &  all  the  kyndred  of 
Galand  he  discryued  therin.  I  suppose  if  galantes  vnderstbde 
the  progeny,  they  wold  refuse  to  be  of  y*.  felyshyp  &  kyndrede. 
The  occasion  of  makynge  this  boke  was  whan  englysshe  men 
were  bete  out  &  had  loste  Fraunce.  Gascoyn.  Gyon.  &  Nor- 
mandye ;  &  came  home  disguysed  in  theyr  garment  in  euery 
parte  of  theyr  bodyes.  wbiche  englyssh'men  sawe  neuerbefor, 
and  many  folowed  the  lewde  &  abhomynable  garmentes.  in  so 
moche  y"^.  all  good  men  cryed  out  of  them.  And  thys  good 
monkeindetestacyonof  theyr  synne&  wretchydnesse made  the 
sayd  boke  in  balette  wyse.  And  the  repete  of  euery  balett  was 
this,  Englonde  may  wayle  y^  euer  Galand  came  here ;  and  in 
short  season  after.  wer~ grete  surreccons.  &  murdre  of  lordis  & 
other  j  as  I  doubte  not  many  y'.  lyueth  can  remembre  it.  * 

J.  H. 

*  Mons  perfectionis.  Otherwyse  called  in  Englyssb  The  hylle  of 
perfection.  fJJeneath,  a  wood-cut  of  an  Archbishop,  with  a  crosiar. 
Col.]  Here  endeth  the  treatyse  called  Mons perfectionii.  Emprynted 
hy  Rycharde  Pynson  in  the  xiii.yere  of  our  souerayne  lorde  Kynge  Henry 
the  i/ii.  qto.  e  iij.  This  is  an  exhortacion  by  the  same  writer  to 
the  Carthusians,  recommending  prayer,  obedience,  and  the  soli- 
tude of  the  cell.  There  were  several  editions,  but  this  is  un^ 
noticed  by  Herbert.    It  is  printed  in  double  columns. 

M   M  3  The 


554 

%  The  Excellent   History e  of  Theseus  and  Jriadne.' 
Wherein  is  declared  her  feruent  hue  to  hym:  and  Ms 
\Trayterous  dealyh^e  ibwarde  her:  Written  in  English 
Meeter  in  Cd'mendacion  of  all  good  women :  and  to  • 
the  Infamie  of  suche  lyght  Jiuswyues  as  Phedra  the 
sister  of  Ariadne  was :  which  fled  aM ay  w* .  Theseus 
her  Sisters  Husbande :  and  is  declared  in  this  His- 
tory.    By  Thomas  Vnderdawne.     Imprinted  at  Lon- 
don hy  Rycharde  lohnes  :  and  are  to  he  sold  at  his 
Shop,  ioynyng  to  the  South  west  Doore  of  P antes. 
Churche".  1566.  18  of  Januarie.  Oct.   16  leaves. 

In  "  the  Preface  to  the  Reader,"  the  author  indulges 
in  a  variety  of  severe  and  uncandid  ohservations  oh  the 
general  conduct  of  the  female  sex;  and  which  are  with 
difficulty  strained  into  an  appearance  of  being  founded 
upon  the  characters  of  his  poem,  where  true. love  is 
shewn  in  Ariadne;  craft,  dissimulation,  perfidy  and 
perjury,  in  Theseus  :  and  unnatural  lust  and  lechery  in 
Phedra. 

"  I  wyll  not  (he  says)  that  anjr  honest  and  vertuous  woman 
be  towched  with  that  I  mynde  to  saye :  but  they  oDcly  who 
in  readynge  hereof.,  shall  by  anye  meanes  fynde  them  selues 
agreeued.  And  I  wyll  touche  no  poynt  but  onelye  betautie. 
For  yf  I  shoulde  saye  what  I  haue  scene,  reade  and  barde,  a 
yeare  were  to  lytellto  tell  of  their  trickes. 

"  Assuredly,  he  that  desyretb  a  fayre  woman  armeth  him 
selfe  tea  right  great  and  dangerous  aduenture:  and  why?  a 
fayre  woman  is  nothynge  but  a  gasynge  stocke  of  ydell  folkes: 
an  earelye  wakynge  for  them  that  bee  lyghte  :  aud  she  that  is 
desired  for  her  Beautje  in  her  youthe,  may  hope  too  haue  but  - 
a  sorye  lyfe  in  her  a^e. 

"  An  infallible  rule  it  is,  that  shee  that  is  desyred  for  her 
fayrenesse,  is  bated  for  her  fowlenesse:  and  beautie  of  trouthe 
is  not  perpeluall,  but  fadeth  as  the  flowers  and  greene  grasse. 
Also  he  that  hathe  a  fayre  woman  must  suftre  her  pryde ;  for 
bfeailtie  and  pryde  go  alwaye  together.  Also  hee  must  suffre 
herexpences:  for  beautie  in  the  face,  and  falye  in  the  head, 
be  two  worraes  that  fret  the  lyfe,  and  consume  the  goodes. 
Also  hee  must  suffre  her  ryotes :  for  a  faire  woman  wyll,  that 
none  but  shee  haue  her  commaundementes  in  the  howse. 
Also  hee  musle  suffre  her  nycemynions:  for  a  fayre  woman 
wyll  passe -her  time  in  pleasures.  Also  hee  muste  suffre 
•  •  her 


335 

her  presumption;  for  eilerye  f/ne  and  fayre  woma"  wyll 
haue  preeminence  before  all  other :  &  at  a  worde  he  that 
hath  a  feyre  woman  is  apparelde  with  as  great  peryll  as 
euer  was  Cartha  with  Scipio,  Jerusalem  with  Titus,  or  Rome 

■with  Brennus As  for  those  that  lyue  nowe  with  us  I 

feare  me,  thei  shalbe  as  yll  reported  of  tyme  to  come,^'  as 
they  be  hated  now  with  wise  and  auncient  men  :  thejr  lookes 
be  so  loftie,  their  gate  so  stately,  their  apparell  so  disguised, 
their  courage  so  hawtye,  that  you  may  muse  to  here  of  their 
maners,  gestures,  and  behauiours,  no  lesse  then  thei  were 
monsters,  or  thinges  wherin  Nature  ey  ther  had  erred,  or  woulde 
not  shewe  her  force.  And  where  in  time  passed,  all  that  was 
done  otherwyse  then  honestie  permitted  was  done  very  se- 
cretely.  Now  (I  knowe  no  cause  why)  they  that  be  dyffamed 
do  as  rauche  reioyce  in  their  naughtines,  as  they  aforetime 
were  ashamed  of  their  misdedes  :  I  can  alledge  no  reason  why 
suche  thyngs  shoulde  come  to  passe  nowe,  rather  then  in  tymes 
paste:  but  that  oure  women  lyue  so  yedellye,  that  they  eschewe 
all  honeste  laboure,  and  wholly  addicte  themselues  to  vnhonest 
ydlenesse.  For  this  is  certaine  where  the  handes  is  occupyed  : 
there,  the  harte  muste  needes  do  sqmwhat :  and  if  I  saye  not 
true,  let  any  man  alleadge  wheneuer  there  were  moe  ydell 
women  in  the  whole  worlde,  then  is  nowe  in  the  small  circuit 
of  Englande.  I  reade  howe  diners  haue  ben  CQ~mended  for 
kepynge  themselues  close  in  their  howses,  vsynge  themselues 
discretelye  with  companye :  moderatelye  with  their  housholde: 
decently'e  with  their  husbandes.  But  neuer  was  any  lauded, 
for  leadynge  of  an  ydell  lyfe.  You  ydle  Dames  whersoeuer 
you  be,  tell  me  I  praye  you  ?  What  was  the  cause  that  Penelope 
was  so  muche  honoured  in  her  tyme,  and  lefte  eternal  memorie 
of  her  good  renowne  to  vs  after  her  death  ?  What  trade  of  lyfe 
led  shee  when  Vlysses  was  at  the  siege  of  Troye?  She  beynge 
a  Queue  dyd  paynfullye  spyn  and  keepe  her  howse,  and  for 
all  the  knot  of  gentell  woers  that  she  had,  she  neuer  left  her 
worke  to  dallye  and  toye  with  them,  though  her  husband  were 

awaye  xx  yeares But  I  suppose  you  cannot  away  with 

spinnynge,  for  that  vtterlye  taketh  awaye  all  vayne  thpughtes, 
and  occupyeth  the  minde  with  honest  studyes:  for  all  the 
senses  be  moued  by  it :  the  eyes  with  seyeng  that  the  threde 
be  well  twyned:  the  eares  with  hearynge  the  sownde  of 
the  wheele:  the  hands  with  turnyng  it  aboute,  so  that  no 
place  is  voyde  of  doing  somwbat :  whereby  no  yl  can  tary  or 
raigne  in  y=.  hart :  thus  much  I  haue  said  because  Ariadnes 
idlenes  caused  al  her  griefe  :  for  if  she  had  not  be"  idle,  she 
had  not  gone  out  of  her  chamber:  if  she  had  not  gon  out  of 
.    \   '   ;  M  M  4  her 


53^ 

her  chamher,  she  had  not  come  to  the  laberynthe  wherein 
Theseus  was:  if  shee  had  not  gone  to  the  laberynthe,  she 
hadde  not  hard  his  complaint :  if  she  had>  not  hard  his  com- 
plaint she  had  not  loued  him  :  if  she  had  not  loued  him,  she 
had  ben  safe  fro"  the  chaunce  whiche  happened  to  her:  as  iij 
the  HJstorye  shalbe  declared.  Ydleness  is  therfore  the  ground 
of  all  vice,  &  ouerthroweth  quyte  all  the  foundations  of  ver- 
tiie.". . . . 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  preface  is  given 

'•  A  Rule  for  women  lo  Irynge  vp  their  daughters. 

"  Ye  mothere  that  your  daughters  wyll    ' 

brynge  vp  and  nurture  well : 
These  rules  do  keepe,  &  them  obserue, 

whiche  I  shall  here  nowe  tell. 
If  they  wyll  go  or  gad  abrode, 

their  legges  let  broken  bee : 
Put  out  their  eyes  if  they  wyll  looke 

or  gaze  vndecentlye. 
If  they  their  eares  wyll  gyue  to  hark 

what  other  men  do  saye 
Stoppe  them  vp  quyte,  if  geue  or  take, 

then  cut  their  bandes  awaye 
If  they  dare  lyghUy  vse  to  talke, 

their  lyppes  together  sowe : 
If  they  wyll  ought  lyghtly  entende, 

Jette  grasse  vpon  them  growe 
And  at  a  worde,  if  she  he  yll, 

let  her  yll  aunswers  haue: 
And  for  her  dower  geue  sharpe  wordes, 

and  for  her  house  a  graue. 
Therfore  ye  mothers,  if  ye  vse 

and  kepe  my  rules  in  mynde : 
Daughters  you  shall  haue  none  at  all, 

or  those  of  Phenyx  kynde." 

The  poem  commences  with  the  story  of  Pasiphae  and 
birth  of  the  Minotaur,  and  then  follows  that  of  Theseus 
and  Ariadne  :  and  concludes  with  her  complaint  on  being 
forsaken,  from  which  the  following  specimen  is  taken. 
"■  I  dyd  repayre  his  erased  shyppes, 
1  dyd  him  treasure  gyue: 
I  dyd  my  selfe  bequeath  to  hym, 
styll  with  hym  for  to  Jyue. 

I  b^ketted 


537 

I  bancketted  this  traytours  men, 

I  vittayled  them  with  store ; 
I  shewed  them  suche  pleasure,  as 

they  neuer  had  before. 
I  dyd  my  loued  countrey  lotbe^ 

my  parentes  I  forsooke  : 
To  go  with  hym  vnto  his  land, 

all  paynes  I  vndertooke. 
And  be  lykewyse  dyd  swere  to  race, 

by  goddes  and  heauens  hye: 
That  lie  alwayes  wolde  be  my  man, 

with  me  to  lyue  and  dye. 
Yet  he  my  merytes  dothe, 

with  falshed  recompence-: 
Whiche  loue  and  loyaltie  he  doth 

dispytefullye  dispence. 
Amyd  a  forest  wylde  and  wyde 

for  beares  or  wolues  a  pray 
He  leaueth  me  a  sleepe  and  he 
^    falsely  doth  go  his  waye. 
His  trustlesse  trueth,  his  treason  tryed, 

his  fayth,  his  falshed  founde 
And  I  a  wofuU  wretche  in  care, 

as  any  on  the  grounde. 
To  you  ye  goddes,  I  do  complayne, 

to  you  this  tale  I  tell: 
Sithe  y*^,  he  hath  your  names  blaspherod 

that  he  may  hange  in  hell. 
Reuenge  my  cause,  sithe  none  but  you 

my  whole  estate  do  knowe: 
That  you  be  goddes,  and  wyll  reuenge 

to  Theseus  do  showe. 
And  you  that  heere  of  mee 

that  be  of  judgement  pure : 
Beware  to  fisshe  in  fancies  floud, 

or  els  to  drowne  be  sure. 
Beware,  be  wyse,  example  take, 

by  Ariadne's  payne ; 
Whiche  helpyng  hym  who  helples  was 

she  helples  doth  remayne. 
This  sayd :  the  goddes  did  her  translate 

into  the  starry  skye : 
And  gaue  her  place  among  the  starres, 

where  she  shall  neuer  die. 
Finis.    Th.Vn." 

J.  H. 

The 


s§^ 


^  Tne  Yovng  GallanU  Wktrligigg  i  or  Yovths  reakes. 
Demonstrating  the  inordimte  affections,  absurd  ac- 
tions, and  profuse  expenees,  ofvnhridled  and  affec- 
taied  Youth:  With  their  extravagant  courses,  and 
preposterous  progressions,  and  aversions.  Together 
with  the  too  often  deare  bought  experience,  and  the 
rare  or  too  late  regression  and  reclamation  of  most  of 
them  from  their  halituall  illcustomes,  and  vnqualified 
manners.  P'sitatiimjpeccatum^  peccatzim  non  videtur. 
Compiled  and  written  by  F.  L.  Nemo  Wditur  nisi 
a  seipso  ergo:  lam  vitulos  hortare,  viamque  insiste 
domandi,  diim  faciles  animi  juvenum ;  dum  mobilis 
ata's.  Firg.  London,  Priiited  by  M.  F.  for  Robert 
Bostocke,  at  the-  sig?ie  of  the  King's  head  in  Paul's 
Church-yard.  1629.  qto.  pp.  3S. 

"  To  the  Right  Honovrajble  Sir  Ivlivs  Cssar,  Knight, 
Master  of  the  Rolls',"  the  author,  by  his  dedication,  says,  "  in 
regard  that  I  once  belonged  to  the  Innes  of-Court,  and  haue 
a  long  time  as  well  by  generall  reports^  (as  my  owne  particular 
knowledge)  beene  an  eye  witnesse  of  your  loyalty  in  your 
place,  piety  in  your  family,  Clemency,  towards  poor  clyents, 
charity  to  the  needy,  and  courf;esie  to  all :  I  haue  presumed 
(vnder  your  Honors  fauour)  to  present  you  with  a  piece  of  an 
hourf^s  recreation,  licenc'd  by  good  authority.  I  am  no 
vsuall  poetizer,  "but  to  barre  idleness  haue  imployed  that  little 
talent  the  Muses  haue  confer'd  vpon  me  in  this  little  tract. . . . 
Your  Honors  most  humbly  obliged  Fra.  Lenton."* 

A  poetical  address  "  to  three  sorts  of  readers  :"  viz. 
"home-bred  Dotards;  guilded  Snowballs  or  aspiring 
Sprights;  and  tender  blades  not  ripened  by  the  times." 
Then  ''  a  fiction  by. way  of  argument  on  thife  booke,"  in 
verse. 

The  Whirligigg  is  the  history  of  an  [nns  of  Court 
student  launchinginto  all  the  prevailing  vices  and  extra- 

*  Lansjbaine  in  his  Account  of  the  Dramatkk  Poets,  p.  4.81,  men- 
tions a  little  piece  printed  1634,  called  "  The  Inns  of  Court  Ana- 
gramtnatist ,  or  the  Masquers  masqued  in  Anagrammes,  written  by 
Mr.  Francis  Lenton,  OBe  o-T  her  Majesty's  poets :"  upon  which 
pldys  piihily  observes,  "  And  a^ wretched  one  God  wot." 

vagance 


h59^ 

vagance  of  folly  atid  pleasure.  It  appears  to  be  faithfully 
touched,  which  seems  the  best  apology  for  the  feebleness 
of  the  verse,  and  gives  interest  to  the  fbllowing  passages. 
Having  quitted  the  university  the  hero  is  sent  from  the 
country 

"  to  the  Innes  of  Court, 

To  study,  laws,  and  neuer  to  surcease. 

Till  he  be  made  a  justice  of  the  peace. 
Now  here  the  ruine  of  the  youth  begins. 

For  when  the  country  cannot  finde  out  sinnes 

To  fit  his  hiimour,  London  doth  inuent 

Millions  of  vices,  that  are  incident 

To  his  aspiring  minde;  for  now  one  yeare 

Doth  eleuate  him  to  a  higher  sphere  ; 

And  makes  him  tbinke  he  hath  atchieued  more. 

Then  all  his  fathers  auncestors  before. 

Now  thinkes  his  father,  here's  a  goodly  sonne. 

That  hath  approached  vnto  Littleton, 

But  neuer  lookt  on't ;  for  instead  of  that 

Perhaps  he's  playing  of  a  game  at  Cat. 

No,  no,  good  man,  hee  reades  not  Littleton, 

But  Don  Quix  Zot,  or  els  Ths  Knight  o'  the  Sun : 

Instead  of  Perkins  p^dlers  french,  he  sayes 

He  better  loues  Ben.  Johnson's  booke  of  playes, 
But  that  therein  of  wit  he  findes  such  plenty. 
That  he  scarce  vnderstands  a  iest  of  twenty  j 
Nay  keepe  him  there  vntill  the  day  of  doome, 
Hee'U  ne'er  reade  out  Natura  Breuium. 
But  Ouid-like,  against  his  father's  minde, 

Finde  pleasant  studies  of  another  kinde 

This  golden  asse  in  this  hard  iron  age, 

Aspireth  now  to  sit  vpon  the  stage, 

Lookes  round  about,  then  viewes  his  glorious  selfe, 

Throws  mony  here  and  there,  swearing  hang  pelfe. 

As  if  the  splendor  of  his  mightiistesse 

Should  neuer  see  worse  dayes,  or  feele  distreSse. . .  . 

Your  theaters  hee  daily  doth  frequent 

(Except  the  iniermitled  time  of  Lent) 

Treasuring  vp  within  his  memory 

The  amorous  toyes  of  eiiery  comedy, 

With  deepe  delight ;  whereas  he  doth  appeare 

Within  God's  temple  scarcely  once  a  yeare. 

And  that  poore  once  more  tedious  to  his  minde. 

Then  a  year's  trauell,  to  a  toiling  hynd. 

Playes 


540 

PlayeS  are  the  nurseries  of  vice,  the  bawd. 
That  thorow  the  senses  steales  our  hearts  abroad. 
Tainting  our  eare  with  obsccene  bawdery, 
Lasciuious  words  and  wanton  ribaulry. 
Charming  the  casements  of  our  soules,  the  eyes. 
To  gaze  vpon  bewitching  vanities. 
Beholding  base  loose  actions,  mimick  gesture. 
By  a  poore  boy  clad  in  a  princely  vesture. 
These  are  the  onely  tempting  baits  of  hell. 
Which  draw  more  yonth  vnto  the  damned  cell 
Of  furious  lust,  then  all  thedeuill  could  doe 

Since  he  obtained  his  first  ouerthrow 

Old  Daedalus,  his  father,  being  dead. 

He  now  begins  to  take  a  greater  head  ;. . .  . 

For  now  his  fathers  lands,  bonds,  golden  bags, 

Buyes  him  a  coach,  foure  Flanders  mares,  two  nags. .  , 

He  courts  it  now  euen  at  the  court  indeed. 

Sometimes  on  Gennet,  sometimes  English  steed, 

Pacing  with  lacques  in  the  paued  streets, 

Jn  glory  bowing  to  each  friend  he  meets ; 

(Too  prodigall  of  his  faind  courtesie. 

Which  may  be  term'd  a  proud  humilitie) 

The  estridge  on  his  head  with  beauer  rare, 

Vpon  his  hands  a  Spanish  sent  to  weare, 

Haires  curl'd,  eares  pearl'd,  with  Bristows  brauery  bright. 

Brought  for  true  diamonds,  in  his  false  sight  j 

All  ore  perfum'd,  and,  as  for  him  tis  meete. 

His  body's  clad  i'  th'  silkwormes  winding  sheete 

The  Cockpit  heretofore  would  serue  his  wit^ 
But  now  vpon  the  Fryers  stage  hee'll  sit. 
It  must  be  so,  though  this  expensiue  foole 
Should  pay  an  angell  for  a  paltry  stoole. . .  . 

ere  hee  can  behold  his  wofuU  case. 

He  is  immured  in  some  wretched  place  : 

His  silken  garments,  and  his  sattiri  robe 
That  hath  so  often  visited  the  Globe. 
And  all  his  spangled  rare  perfum'd  attires. 
Which  once  so  glistred  in  the  torchy  Fryers, 
Must  to  the  broakers  to  compound  his  debt. 

Or  else  be  pawned  to  procure  him  meate 

Nor  are  his  creditors  alone  obdure. 
But  euen  his  copesmates,  whom  he  thought  so  sure, 
Shall  shrinke  like  slimy  snailes  into  the  shell. 
Whilst  he  his  plaints  vnto  the  walls  doth  tell, 
Whosefriendship  was  ingendred  by  the  sun 

Reflecting  on  their  base  corruption 

'  Lastly, 


541 

Lastly,  lookesi  backe  with  a  delected  eye 

Vpon  his  pampred  daies,  sports,  libertie. 

His  midnight  reuels,  and  abundant  wine. 

He  sacrificed  vnto.  Bacchus  shrine. 

His  bowles  of  nectar,  fill'd  vp  to  the  bi;im. 

In  which  he  to  his  rnarmosite  did  swim ; 

His  oysters,  lobstars,  cauiare,  and  crabs. 

With  which  he  feasted  his  contagious  drabsj 

Oringoes,  hartichoakes,  potatoe  pies, 

Prouocatiues  vnto  their  luxuries; 

His  musicke's  consort,  and  a  cursed  crue. 

That  vs'd  to  drink,  vntill  the  ground  look'd  blew. .  . 

Yet  oftentimes  hope  doth  awake  his  spirit. 

And  tells  him  one  day  yet  hee  shall  inherit 

His  freedome, and  release;  which  being  done. 

Another  course,  be  doth  intend  to  run. 

So  moderate,  and  graue,  that  by  the  power 

Of  him. that  sits  in  the  immortall  tower. 

His  second  life  hatcht  by  supernall  fire. 

Co-operating  with  a  true  desire 

To  rectifie  his  former  follies  past. 

Shall  make  him  shine  a  brighter  star  at  last." 

J.H. 


^  The  Praise  qfJMvsicke:  fPTierein  besides  the  antiqui- 
tie,  dignitie,  delectation,  cS  vse  thereof  in  ciuill 
matteis,  is  also  declared  the  soler  and  laivfull  vse  of 
the  same  in  the  congregation  and  Church  of  God. 
Hieron.  ifi  Psal.  64.  Matutinis  Vespertinisque 
hymnis  Ecclesia  deleciatur  Deus  per  anirnamfidelem, 
qua  relicto  inanium  superstitionum  ritu,  eum  denote" 
laudauerit.  God  is  delighted  with  the  morning  & 
euening  hymns  of  the  church,  in  a  faithjull  soul, 
which  reiecting  the  ceremonies  of  vaine  superstition, 
praiseth  him  aeuqtly.  Printed  at  Oxenford  by  lo- 
seph  Barnes  printer  to  the  Vniuersitie,  Anno  1586. 
Oct.  p.  152. 

The  reputed  author  of  this  rare  and  erudite  perform- 
ance was  the  learned  Dr.  John  Case.  His  biographer, 
Wood,  states  him  to  have  been  born  at  Woodstock  in 

Oxfordshire ; 


Oxfordshire:  educated  there  jn  -EHglish,  fetft^m<Latin 
partly  at  New 'CollegCi  and  partly  at  Ghtist  Church,  ot 
both  which  places  he  was  successively  a  choHsief,  In 
1564  he  was  elected  scholar  of  Saint  John's  Colleige,  and 
was  afferwafds  Fellow,  Master  of.  Arts,  and  the  most 
noted  disputant  and  philosopher  that  ever  before  set  foot 
in  that  college.  Being  inclined  to  the  Ronjan  Catholic 
persuasion  he  left  his  Fellowship,  and  on  30th  Dec. 
1574,  married  Elizabeth,  the  widow  of.  one  Dobson, 
Keeper  of  the  Bocando  prison,  He  afterwards  read  lec- 
tures on  logic  and  philosophy  to  young  men  (mostly 
Catholics)  in  a  private  house  in  St.  Mary  Magdalen's; 
parish,  and  there  had  disputations,  declamations  and 
exercises  as  in  colleges  and  halls,  and  many  eminent  men 
issued  thence.  He  published  Commentaries  on  Ari- 
stotle, and  was  much  respected  for  his  knowledge  in 
medicine,  of  Vvhich  he  was  made  (or  took  the  degree  of) 
Doctor,  1589,  and  the  same  year  obtained  the  Prebendary 
of  North  Aulion,  in,  the  church  of  Sarum.  From  his 
lectures  he  possessed  a  competent  estate,  the  greater 
portion  of  which  he  bequeathed  to  pious  uses.  He  died 
about  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  on  the  23d  January, 
1599,  and  was  interred  in  the  chapel  of  Saint  John's 
College,  where  a  monument  was  erected  to  his  memory.* 

In  specifying  the  works  published  by  Dr.  Case,  the 
words  of  Wood  are :  "yjpologia  Muskes  tarn  vocalis, 
.cjuam  inMrumentalis  &  mixta.  Ox.  1588.  Oct.  I 
have  a  book  in  my  library,  entituled.  The  praise  of  Mu- 
stek, wherein  besides  the  mUiquity  and  dignity,  &c.  is 
declared  the  sober  and  lawful  uSe  of  the  same  in  the 
Congregation  of  the  cimrch  of  God.  Ox.  1586.  Oct. 
]t  was  written  by  an  Oxford  schoUu,  then  lately  deceased, 
but  what  was.  his  name  I  cannot  in  all  my  searches  find. 
It  was  printed  and  published  by  the  said  Joseph  Barnes, 
who  putting  a  Dedicatory  Epistle  before  it,  to  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  with  his  na.me  subscribed,  he  is  therefore,  in 
several  auction  catalogues,  said  to  be  the  author  of  it." 

Barnes,  in  the  Dedication,  requests  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
to  become  the  patron  of  the  work,  being  worthy  "  and 
pleasant  to  be  read,  because  it  is  an  orphan  of  one  of 

*  Athena:  Oxon.  Vol,  I.  col.  199. 

Ladv 


543 

Lady  Muslckes  children."     Adding  "it  i«  commended 
to  me  by  men  of  good  iudgment  and  learning,"     From 
the  describing  it  as  "  an  orphan,"  Wood  concluded  the 
author  "  then  lately  deceased;"  though  that  sentence  is 
not  followed  with  any  observation  to   prove   the  work 
posthumous :  nor  is  it  probable  that  was  the  fact.     From 
the  circumstance  of  Case  then  looking  forward  to  his  de- 
grees (which  he  did  not  obtain  until  three  years  after- 
wards) and  reading  lectures  publicly  to  his  stu«!ents,  it 
might  be  considered  a  work  of  too  light  and  trifling  a 
nature  to  be  sanctioned  formally  with  his  name,  although 
every  page  proves  it  the  performance  of  a  man  of  cKten- 
sive  reading,   and   well   acquainted   with   his  favourite 
author  Aristotle,  to  whom  the  frequent  references  serve 
to  confirm  the  presumption  of  flowing  from  his  pen. 
His  youthful  character  of  a  chorister  may  also  explain 
the   meaning  of  "  one  of  Lady  Musick's   children," 
and,   as  the  preface  states,  ecclesiastical  music  as  "a 
matter  in  controversie,"  publishing  anonymously  must 
appear  best  to  a  man  deeply  engaged  in  scholastic  pur- 
suits, and  of  a  distinct  persuasion.    The  late  Dr.  Farmer 
attributed  it  to  him  ;1*  and  Ritson,  upon  that  authority, 
has  registered  the  name  of  Case  in  the  Bibliographia 
Poetica,     However,  I  shall  proceed  to  adduce  a  more 
conclusive  proof  that  such  appropriation  may  be  relied 
on,  which  a  recent  visit  to  Oxford,  while  taking  a  hasty 
glance  at  a  small  portion  of  the  unexplored  treasures  of 
the  Bodleian  Library,  enabled  me  to  supply.    It  is  some 
lines  by  the  famous  sonnetteer,  Thomas  Watson,  which 
are  addressed  as 

"  A  gratification'  vnto  Mr.  John  Case,  for  his  learned 
Booke,  lately  made  in  the  prayes  ofMusick. 

"  1.  Let  others  praies  what  likes  them  best, 
I  like  his  lynes  aboue  the  rest. 
Whose  pen  hath  paynted  Musicks  praies : 
By  nature's  lawe  by  wisdomes  rule. 
He  soundly  blames  the  sencelesse  foolg. 
And  barb'rous  Scithian  of  our  dayes. 
2.  He  writes  of  angels  harmony, 
Aboue  the  harpe  of  Mercd-kib 
He  writes  of  sweetly  turninge  spears  : 
How  birds  and  beasts,  &  wormes  rcroyce, 

*  See  Bib.  Farmeriana,  No.  sfiss. 

How 


544 

How  dofphins  lou'd  AkioiJs  voyce, 
'  He  makes  a  frame  for  Mioas  ears. 

3.  Then  may  the  solemne  stoicke  finde. 
That  MoMus  and  him  self  ar  blynde. 
And  that  rude  Marsia  wanteth  skill: 
Whiles  will  and  witlesse  ears  are  bent. 
Against  AroLLo's  sweet  consent. 
The  nursse  of  good,  y^.  scourge  of  ill. 

4.  Let  Eris  then  delight  in  warrs. 
Let  Enuy  barke  against  the  starrs. 
Let  Folly  sayle  w*  may  thee  please : 
With  him  I  wish  my  dayes  to  spende 
Whose  quill  hath  stoode  fayire  Musicks  friend. 
Chief  friend  to  peace,  chief  port  of  ease. 

q"!.  Tho.  Watson."  * 
An 

*  From  a  MS.  volume,  formerly  in  Hearne's  possession,  now 
among  Dr.  Rawlinson's  collection  in  the  Bodleian,  MSS.  Rofwl. 
Poet.  14.8. — The  volume  appears  to  be  miscellaneous  poems,  writ- 
ten temp.  Elizabeth,  and  transcribed  by  John  Lilliat,  whose  own 
verses  form  a  large  portion  of  the  collection.  There  are  others  by 
Doctor  Eedes,  pxon ;  Dr.  Langewoorth ;  Edward  Dier  j  John 
Lilly }  &c.     The  following  appears  as  anonymous. 

"  OfUngeringe  Lime. 

.    "  I.  In  lingeringe  Loue  mislikinge  growes, 
Wherby  our  fancies  ebbs  and  flowes  j 
We  love  to  day,  and  hate  to  morne, 
And  day ly  when'  we  list  to  scorne. 

Take  heed  therfore, 
If  she  mislike,  then  Ipve  no  more : 

Quicke  speed  makes  waste, 
Loue  is  not  gotten  in  such  haste. 

2.  The  sute  is  colde  that  soone  is  done. 
The  forte  is-^feeble  eisly  wonne: 

The  haulke  that  soone  comes  by  her  pray 
May  take  a  toye  and  sore  avyay, 
.    Marke  what  means  this, 
Some  thincke  to  hitt  &  yet  they  misse: 

First  creepe,  then  goe, 
Me  thincke  our  lotie  is  handled  soe. 

3.  For  lacke  of  bellowes  the  fire  goes  out. 
Some  say,  the  next  way  is  about : 
Few  things  are  had  without  some  sute, 
The  tree  at  first  will  bear  no  frute. 

Serue  longe,  hope  well, 
Loe  heere  is  all  that  I  can  tell: 

Tyraft 


S45 

An  intelligent  and  amusing  preface  to  the  readerj 
says, 

"  True  it  is,  which  is  reported  of  poets  and  musitions,  that 
they  are  no  otherwise  affected  toward  their  own  deuises,  than 
parents  toward  their  children.  And  surely  (gentle  reader)  I 
willingly,  confesse  vnto  thee,  that  I  ani  glad  I  haue  some  skill, 
in  musicke,  which  is  so  sweetCjSO  good,  so  vertuops,  so  comely 
a  matrone  among  other  artes.  Wlierefore  I  shal  not  iustly 
blame  thee,  if  thou  think,  that  loue  and  affection  hath  preuailed 
much  with  me  in  publisliing  of  this  pamphlet:  for  therein  thou 
shall  giue  testimonie  vnto  me,  that  I  haue  perfourmed  the 
part  of  a  kinde  and  gratefull  sonne,  in  bestowing  the  hest  of 
mine  abilitie,  to  the  aduancing  of  so  gratious  a  mother. 
Neither  would  I  haue  thee  so  much  to  stand  vpon  this  con- 
ceit, as  if  reason  had  no  place  in  this  action:  considering  that 
affection  without  reason,  is  a  blind  and  vniust  iudge  of  any 
matter.  May  it  therefore  please  thee,  no  otherwise  to  iudge  of 
my  labour,  than  the  reasons  therein  alleaged  shall  giue  thee 


Tyme  tries  out  troth. 
And  troth  is  likt,  wher  ere  it  goth. 

Some  thincke  all  theirs  that  they  doe  seeke. 
Some  wantons  wooe  but  for  a  weeke : 
Some  wooe  to  shew  their  subtile  wits. 
Such  palfreys  play  vpon  their  bits. 

Fine  heads  god  knowes. 
That  plucks  a  nettle  for  a  rose: 

They  meete  their  mach. 
And  fare  the  woorsse  because  they  snach. 

,  We  silly  women  can  not  rest. 
For  men  that  love  to  woe  in  iest ; 
Some  lay  their  baite  in  ev'ry  nooke. 
And  ev'ry  fish  doth  spie  their  hooke. 

Ill  ware,  good  cheape. 
Which  makes  vs  looke  before  we  leape; 

Craft,  can  cloke  much, 
God  saue  all  simple  soules  from  such. 

Though  lingeringe  Loue  be  lost  some  while, 

Yet  lingeringe  louers  laugh  and  smile : 

Who  will  not  linger  for  a  day. 

To  banish  hope  and  happ  away,  ^ 

Loue  must  be  plide 
Who  thincks  to  fayle  must  wayte  y«.  tide  : 

I       Thus  ends  his  dance : 
God  send  all  ling'rers  happie  chance." 

L.   II.  w  N  lust 


54^ 

ijisf  occasion  ;•  and  if  it  happen  thou  come- to  the  tiewe  hereof 
with  a  preiudice,  yet  consider  that  nature  hath  therfore  gluea 
thee  two  eares,  that  thou  shouldest  aswell  gpplie  the  one  to 

tTie  defendant  as  the  other  to  the  plaintife Some,  I  doubt 

not,  will  exult  to  drawe  a  reproch  of  this  art  from  the  an-; 
cient  Greeks,  with  whom  it  was  at  the  first  in  greatest  esti- 
tnation:  &  therefore  will  triumph  that  Minerua  should  haue 
cast  away  her  Recorder  from  her  in  disdaine,  not  as  some  say, 
because  the  vsiiig  thereof  made  her  checkes  swell  and  puffed, 
but  as  Aristotle  rather  thought,  because  the  playing  on  a  Re- 
corder doth  neither  auail  the  mind,  nor  help  knowledge  any 
thing  at  al :  whereas  we  ascribe  art  &  knowlege  to  Minerua; 
Btit  I  Would  not  haue  any  ma"  suppose  that  my  purpose  is  in 
this  treatise,  otherwise  to  speak  of  this  scie'ce,^  than,  so,  as 
that  it  may  seem  both  worthy  priuate  delectation,  for  a  man's 
proper  solace  :  and  also  publikely  co~modious  in  rnatters  both 
ciuill  &  ecclesiastical!  as  in  the  processe  shalbe  declared. '  And 
therefore  I  refer  the  reader  tor  the  dece'tvse  hereof  in  gentle- 
men, to  the  S  booke  of  Aristotles  politiques,  &  the  7  chapter  of 
Sir  Thomas  Eliots  first  booke  of  his  Governour.  From  whom 
he  shall  sufBciently  gather  what  the  proper  and  sober  vse 
hereof  is  and  ought  to  b^e " 

The  work  is  divided  into  twelve  chapters,  and.  their 
heads  may  form  a  succinct  analysis  of  the  whole. 

"  The  Antiqvitie  and  original  ofMvsicke:  first  generally 
then  more  particularly  set  downe, — The  dignitie  of  Mvsicke 
proved  both  by  the  rewardes  and  practise  of  many  and  most 
excellent  men. — The  syavitie  ofMvsicke — The  eflfects  and 
operation  of  Mvsicke.  — The  necessitie  of  Mvsicke.^The  vse 
of  Mvsick  generallie  in  the  course  of  our  life. — The  particvler 
v,se  (f Mvsicke  in  ciuill  matters,  especially  in  sacritices,  feasts, 
maritige.s  and  burials;^ — The  particvler  vse  of  Musicke  in  war- 
like matt(-rs. — The  lawful  vse  of  Mvsicke  in  the  Chvrch  con- 
firmed by  the  practise  of  the  Church. — The  lawfvll  vse  of 
Chvrch  Mvsicke  proued  by  authorities  out  of  the  Doctours. — 
Sentences  of  the  Scripture  for  the  vse  of  Church  Musick. — A 
refvtation  of  obiections  against  the  lawful  vse  of  Musicke  in 
the  Church."  ■ 

J.  H. 


Thf 


647. 

^,  The  Booke  an  jnieter  of  Robin  Conscience :  against 
his  Father  Couetousnesse  his  Mother  Newgise  and  his 
Sister  Proud  Beautye  very  necessary  to  be  read  and 
marked  of  all  people  that,  will  auoide  the  dangers 
thereof,  which  is  vnto  condemnation.  Newly  cor- 
rected by  the  Author.  Abacuc.  %.  Cursed  4)e  he  that 
getteth'  any  thing  into  his  house  by  Couetomnes. 
Esay.  33.  He  shall  dwell  with  God  that  is  without 
Couetousness.  qto.  B  iiij. 

This  poem  is  divided  iato  three  dialogues :  the  first  is 
in  censure  of  covetousness  :  the  second  of  gay  attire : 
and  the  last  of  pride,  which  thus  concludes  : 

Rohin.  Sister,  your  colling  and  kissing  will  haue  an  euill  end. 
To  clatter  and  flatter  is  no  maidenlike  way: 
Your  gladness  and  madnes  doth  God  sore  offend. 
To  intice  men  to  vice  is  all  your  cheefest  plaj'. 
In  their  sight  your  delight  is  for  to  goe  gay.  [will : 

Wherfore  measure  your  pleasure  by  God's  woord  and 
And  you  shall  finde  that  your  rainde  is  whorish  and  ill. 

Maide,.  I  perceiue  that  thou  wouldst  haue  me  Hue  like  a  momc, 
T  will  talke  no  more  with  thee  for'I  must  depart: 
By  the  masse  if  thou  shouldst  dwell  long  at  home. 
My  mother  and  I  might  beshrew  thy  hart. 
If  thou  by  thy  talking  shouldst  my  father  conuert. 
Then  his  wellh,  her  pleasure,  my  pastime  and  dallying. 
Were  clene  dispatched  by  this  new  learning. 

Robin.  Sister,  God  haue  you  and  sane  you  if  it  be  his  pleasure. 
And  pretend  to  amend,  for  your  life  is  now  euill ; 
Look  in  God"s  book  to  haue  heauenly  treasure, 
Therq  seek  to  be  meek  your  proud  hart  to  kill; 
Make  haste  for  to  taste  of  Gods  holy  will. 
For  it  is  health  and  welth,  to  those  that  be  penitcht ;  * 
Wherfore  yet  euer  more  delight  in  Christs  Testament. 
Finis. 

To  talke  well  with  some  women  doth  as  much  good: 
As  a  sicke  man  to  eate  vp  a  loade  of  greene  -wood." 

At  London  printed  by  Edward  Allde. 

^  J.H. 

*  Sic. 

N   N  2  Robin 


5#' 


%  Rolin  Conscience^  or  Cunscionalte  Rabin,  Hispro^ 
gresse  thnrow  Court,  City  and  Conntrey :  with  his  lad 
entertainment  at  each  severall  place.  Very  pleasant 
and  merry  to  lee  read.  Written  in  English  meeter  ly 
M.  P. 

Charitie's  cold,  mens  hearts  are  hard, 
and  most  dQores  'gainst  Conscience  lard. 

London :  Printed  for  F.  Coles,  at  the  upper  endof 
the  Old  Baily,  neare  the  Sessions  house.  1635.  i2mo. 
b.  1. 


This  title  appears  to  have  been  borrowed  by  the  aut%  ^ 
Martin  Parker,  from  the  preceding  article.  The  pro- 
gress of  Conscience  is  related  in  rhyme,  such  as 

"  The  Mercers  and  Silke-men  also. 
That  dwell  in  Pater  noster  row. 
Their  hate  against  poore  Conscience  show, 

and  when  1 
Came  to  that  place,  they  all  did  set 
On  me,  cause  I  their  gaines  would  Jet, 
Who  will  both  sweare  and  lye,  to  get 

one  penny: 
From  thence  vnto  Cheapside  I  pastj. 
Where  words  in  vaine  I  long  did  wast,, 
.  '    Out  oi"  the  place  I  soone  wijs  chas'd : 

Quoth  one  man. 
Conscience,  for  thy  presumption  base 
Intruding  to  this  golden  place 
Thou  death  deseruest,  therefore  apace 

Be  gone  man, 
Dost  thinke  we  that  haue  so  much  gold' 
Before  our  eyes  still  to  behold. 
Will  thus  by  Conscience  be  controld, 

and  curbed? 
Oh  no,  poore  fellow,  haste  away. 
For  if  long  in  this  place  thou  stay,. 
Thou  shalt  be  (He  be  bpld  to  say). 

disturbed." 

J.  H. 


Harrf 


^49 

Tl   Harry  White  his  humour. 

So  neare  as  may  le  Let  honest  men  luy. 

Set  forth  ly  M.  P,  Andknaves  let  it  lya: 

In  which  is  exprest,  This  is  not  for  them. 

Both  earnest  and  jest:       Who  vertue  contemne. 
Not  every  man  in's  humour's  promised  here. 
Yet  in  one's  humour  many  more  appeare. 
Printed  at  London  for  Thomas  Lambert,  at  the  signe 
of  the  Hors-sUoo  in  Smithfield.  n.  d.  lamo. 

In  prose,  and  by  the  same  voluminous  scribbler.  It 
forms  a  string  of  either  moral  or  ludicrous  conclusions, 
such  as, 

"  Item.  Hauing  lately  read  the  rare  history  of  patient 
Grizell,  oat  of  it  he  hath  drawne  this  phylosophicall  position, 
that  if  all  women  were  of  that  woman's  condition,  we  should 
haue  no  imployment  for  cuckinstooles. 

This  is  Harry  White's  humour. 

Item.  He  is  of  this  opinion,  that  if  the  histories  of  Gnrran- 
gantua  and  Tom  Thumbe  be  true:  by  consequence  Bevis  of 
Hampton,  and  Scoggins  Jests  must  needes  bee  authenticall. 

This  is  Harry  White's  humour." 

J.  H. 


•^  The  Melancholie  Knight.  By  S.  R.  [Wood-cut 
of  the  Knight  a  whole  length  dressed  in  the  extrava- 
gance of  the  newest  fashion.  *]  Imprinted  at  London 
by  R.  B,  and  are  to  le  sold  hy  George  Loftus,  in 

*  "  His  face  being  marked  with  his  hat  puU'd  downe. 
And  in  French  doublet  without  gowne  or  cloake. 
His  hose  the  largest  euer  came  to  towne. 
And  from  his  nostrels  came  much  stinking  smoake; 
Garters  would  malie  two  ensignes  for  a  neede, 
And  shoo-ties  that  for  circle  did  exceede.    ■ 
His  head  hung  downe,  his  armes  were  held  acrosse. 
And  in  his  hat  a  cole-blacke  feather  stiicke. 
His  melancholy  argued  some  great  losse. 
He  stood  so  like  the  picture  of  ill  lucke."— 

N  M  3  Bishops- 


Bishops-gate  slreete,  neere  the  Jngell.    1615.  qto. 
PR-  38-  ■ 

The  production  of  Samuel  Rowlands,  in  his  nsual 
rambling  vein  of  local  description.  An  address  "  to  re- 
spectiue  readers,"  and  an  "  Introduction"  both  in  verse. 
The  Knight  declares, 

"  1  haue  red  ouer  (while  youth's  glasse  did  run,) 
Sir  Lancelot  of  the  Lake,  the  Knight  of  th'  Sun, 
Sir  Triamourj  Sir  Beuis,  and  Sir  Guy, 
Fowre  sonnes  of  Amon,  hors'd  so  gallantly. 
And  all  the  old  world's  worthy  men  at  armes. 
That  did  reuenge  faire  ladies  wrongs  and  harmes 
The  monster  slayers  and  the  gyant  killers. 
With  all  the  rest  of  Mars  his  braue  well-willers. 
Which  to  rehearse  I  neuer  shall  be  able,. 
The  Worthis  Arthur  had  at  his  Eound  Table; 
And  how  in  Chronicles  those  dead  ones  Hue, 
By  breath  that  Fame  doth  from  the  trumpet  giue. 
But  what  an  age  is  this  my  fellow  Rnightes  ? 
(I  meane  all  you  whom  melancholy  bites) 
As  it  doth  tne,  the  iouiall  sort  I  leaue 
That  haue  their  hundreds  yeerely  to  receiue ; 
For  they  and  I,  I  know  shall  neuer  meete 
In  Golding  lane,  nor  yet  in  Siluer  streete; 
My  melancholy  walkes  finde  spacious  roome, 
With  pensiue  pace,  about  Duke  Humfrey's  toome. 
Where  many  thoughts  aboue  the  steeple  climbe. 
That  humbly  walke  away  their  dinner  tmie: 
Yet  in  despite  of  Fortune's  turning  wheele. 
In  scorne  of  gold  I  weare  it  at  my  heele ; 
Euen  in  contempt  of  wealth  my  spurres  are  guilt. 
And  siluer's  common  in  ray  rapier's  hilt; 
1  hate  the  idoll  misers  dote  vpon, 
Being  as  bigge  in  heart  as  Prester  lohn.'' 

Ridicule  on  prevailing  manners  is  the  object  of  the 
poet;  and  the  story  of  a  serpentj  then  rife,  forms  no  in- 
consequential part  of  this  long  poem.  At  the  entl  are  a 
ft.'w  "  Melancholic  Conceits."     One  is  addressed 

i  "To  Fortune. 

''  Thou  pur-blinde  puppet  for  a  trads-mans  staule. 
Thou  limping  ladie  of  the  hospitall ; 

Empresse 


551 

Empresse  of  epicures  and  belly-gods. 

With  whom  I  vowe  to  Hue  and  die  at  odsj 

Thou  mole-ey'd,  owle-ey'd.  Countess  for  a  spittle, 

That  giues  to  some  too  much,  to  mee  too  little. 

Thou  whirly-giggCj  and  rats-bane  of  my  life; 

Which  by  thy  wheele  dost  seeme  some  wheel-wrights 

Thou  nlake-bate  of  a  discontented  minde,  [wife. 

Thou  water-bubble,  wastfuU  puflfe  of  winde, 

Thou  flying- feather  of  a  wood-cock's  wing, 

Thou  heathenish  and  very  pagan  thing. 

Thou  miser's  friend,  thou  worthie  gallant's  foe, 

Thou  scurvie  Ballat  of  /  wale  in  woe. 

Thou  that  all  discontentment  dost  prouoke, 

Thou  worse  to  me  (hen  this  Tobacco  smoke, 

Thou  that  rage,  fury,  enuy  dost  importune. 

He  tickle  thee,  thou  scurvy  minded  Fortune." 

J.  H. 


^  Heavens  Glory,  seeke  it.  Earls  vanitie,  Jlye  it. 
Hells  Horror j  fere  it,  [On  a  curtain  central  of  a  title 
engraved  in  compartments  representing  the  eifects  of 
luxury  and  vice;  and  the  bellman  under  the  labell.] 
London:  Printed  for  Michaell  Sparke.  A".  1638. 
Oct.  336. 

Some  essays  and  prayers  by  Samuel  Rowlands,  inter- 
spersed with  two  or  three  pieces  of  poetry.  Near  the  end 
■of  the  volume  is  a  new  title : 

The  Common  Cals,  Cryes  and  Sounds  of  the  Bell- man, 
or  Diuers  Verses  to  put  vs  in  minde  of  our  moria.'iiie. 
Which  may  serue  as  warnings  to  he  prepared  at  all 
times  for  the  day  of  our  death.  Printed  at  London 
for  M.  S. -160,8,.   12  leaves. 

The  signature  is  continued  but  not  the  pagination. 
The  pieces  are  for  particular  days,  with  a  few  of  a 
general^ character,  which  a  single  poem  will  sufficiently 
*how 

"  Remember  man  thou  art  but  dust". 
There  is  none  aliue  but  dye  he  must,  . 

N   N  4  To 


55« 

To  day  a  man,  to  morrow  none. 

So  soone  our  life  is  past  and  gone. 

Mans  life  is  like  a  withered  flower, 

Aliue  and  dead  all  in  an  houre, 

Leaue  of  thy  sips  therefore  in  time. 

And  Christ  will  rid  thee  fropi  thy  crime." 

J.  H. 


^  The  most  dangerous  and  memoralle  aduenture  of 
Richard  Ferris,  one  of  thefiue  ordinarie  Messengers 
of  her  Maiesties  Chamber,  who  departed  from  Toiver 
Wharfe  on  Midsommer  day  last  past,  with  Jndreiu 
Hill  and  William  Thomas,  who  vndertooke  in  a  small 
Wherry  Boate,  to  rowe  by  Sea  to  the  citie  of  Bristowe, 
and  are  now  .iafely  returned.  Wherein  is  particularly 
expressed  their  perils  sustained  in  the  saide  voyage, 
and  the  great  entertainement  they  had  at  seuerall 
places  vpon  the  coast  of  England,  as  they  went,  but 
especially  at  the  said  Citie  of  Bristow.  Published 
by  the  sayd  Richard  Ferris.  Londoii:  Printed  by 
lohn  Wolfe  for  Edward  White,  and  are  to  be  sold  at 
his  shop  being  at  the  litle  north  dore  of  Pauls  at  the 
signe  of  the  Gunne.  1590.  qto. 

Dedicated,  to  Sir  Thomas  Heneage,  Knight.  The  nar- 
rative states  the  voyage  to  have  commenced  on  Midsum- 
mer day,  and  their  return  to  London  on  the  8th  of  Au- 
gust. 

Upon  accomplishment  of  this  voyage  "  The  Maior  of 
Bristow,  with  his  brethren  the  Aldermt-n,  cime  to  the  water 
side  and  welcomed  vs  most  louingly,  and  the  people  came  in 
great  multitudes  to  see  vs,  in  ?o  much  as  by  th^  consent  of  the 
magistrates,  they  tooke  our  boate  tVom  v?,  not  suffering- vs 
once  to  meddle  with  it,  in  respect  that  we  wt-re  all  extrearae 
wearie,  and  carried  our  saide  boate  to  the  high  crossie,  in  the 
citie;  from  thence  it  was  conuaied  to  the  towne  house,  there 
locked  safe  all  night.  And  on  the  next  morning  the  people  of 
the  citie  gathered  themscliies  togelher,  &  had  prepiued  trum- 
pets, drummes,  fyfes  &  eiisi£;nes  to  go  before  the  boate,  which 
Was  carried  vpon  mens  shoulders  round  about  the  citie,  with 

the 


SS3 

the  wattes  of  the  said*  citie  playing  orderly  In  honour  of  our 
tare  and  daungefous  attempt  atchiued.  Afterwardes  we  were 
had  to  Maister  Maiors,  to  the  Aldermen  and  SherifTes  houses, 
where  Ve  were  feasted  most  royally  and  spared  for  no  cost  at 
the  time  that  we  remained  there." 

The  tract  concludes  with  "  A  new  Sonnet  made 
vppon  the  arriuall  and  braue  entertainement  of  Richard 
Ferris  with  his  boat,  who  arriued  at  the  Citie  of  Bristowe 
on  the  third  day  of  August,  1590."  It  forms  a  ballad  of 
eleven  stanzas,  subscribed.  "  lames  Sargent."  The  last 
two  stanzas  will  be  a  sufficient  specimen. 

"  Well  Ferris  now  the  game  is  thine, 
No  losse  thou  hast  thanke  him  aboue. 
From  thy  two  mates  doe  not  decline. 
But  still  in  heart  doe  thou  them  loue. 
So  shall  thy  store  increase  no  doubt, 
Through  him  that  brought  thy  boat  about. 

I  end  with  prayers  to  the  Lord, 
To  saue  and  keepe  our  royall  Queene, 
Let  all  true  hearts  with  one  accord. 
Say  Lord  preserue  her  grace  from  teene, 
Blesse  Lord  her  friendes,  confound  her  foes. 
For  aye  Lord. saue  our  royall  Rose."* 

J.  H. 


^  The  Blacke  yeare.  Seria  iocis.  London  ;  Printed 
by  E.  Allde,  for  fVilliam  Tiinine,  dwelling  in  Pater- 
noster-rotue,  at  the  signe  of  the  Flower  de  Luce  and 
Crowne  neere  Cheapside.  1606.  qto.  Sig.  E  iiij. 

»  The  subjects  of  the  above  six  articles  may  be  found  in  the 
Bodleian  Library,  where  also  may  be  found  a  r^re  tract  by  Thomas 
Deckar,  entitled : 

The  Rave'vcns  Almanacke  Foretelling  of  a  Plague,  Famine,  and 
CiuiUV/arre.  That  shall  happen  this  present  yeare  1609,  not  only 
<withm  this  VAngdome  of  great  Brittaine^,  but  also  in  France,  Germany  y 
Spayne  &  other  parts  of  Christendome.  Il'ith  certaine  remedies,  rules, 
and  receipts  ho-w  to  preuent  or  c.  t  least  to  abate  the  edge  of  itese  •vni- 
uerscdl  Cnhmiiiis.  Printed  by  E.  A.  for  Thomas  Archer,  and  are  to  be 
told  athis  shop  in  Popes-head-Pallace  neere  the  Royall  Exchange.  i6og  . 
4to. 

Dedicated 


S54 

Dedicated  ."  to  the  Right  Worshipful!  and  worthy,  louer  of 
learning,  and  vertue,  Maister  Francis  Coppinger,  Esquire,",  as. 
"  the  true  Maecenas  of  the  Muses,  and  iudicial  in  their  exer- 
cises/' subscribed  "by  him  that  desires  to  be  a  more4eseruer 
ofyourloue.     Antho.  Nixon." 

An  address  "  to  the  reader/'  tells  him  this  little  treatise 
was  "  occasioned  chiefly  by  the  late  treacherous  proceedings, 
although  it  bee' mixed  with  various  matter  to  please  conceipi,' 
because  that  hath  already  beene  sufficiently  handled  by  others." 

In  a  bantering  vein  of  humour  the  author  amusingly 
describes  the  various  interested  and  ephemerical  pursuits 
of  the  busy  throng.  The  passages  that  now  appear  iilte- 
resting  may  be  selected.     He  commences: 

"  The  Blacke  yeare.  By  this  yeares  reuolution,  which  is 
the  sunnes  entrance  into  the  signe  of  the  martiall  Ramme, 
there  shall  many  blacke  enormities,  &  discommodities  happen 
to  the  world :  men  forgette  those  good  vertues,  which  are 
naturally  graffe.d  in  the~;  whose  effects  bee,  to  doe  good  to 
others:  and  wherein  the  image  of  God  is  resembled  in  man, 
and  sensually  cherrish  their  bodies  with  a  moment  of  pleasure, 
to  be  after  punished  with  an  eternitie  of  paine.  And  shall  fol- 
low the  conditions  of  the  world,  dissembling  still  with  the 
same,  holding  themselues  happie  that  can  flyefrom  the  seeing 
eye  not  from  the  sinne,  that  can  applaud  in  publique  and  de- 
fraude  in  priuate.  Such  as  bee  rich,  shall  bee  sure  of  friendes, 
but  they  ihat  are  pooie,  may  spend  money  when  they  can  get 
it.  Those  that  haue  no  mittens  in  winter  may  blow  theirnailes 
by  authoritie,  for  no  man  will  pittie  tiie~that  are  needy:  such 
as  Carrie  empty  purses,  may  dine  by  wit,  if  it  will  prcuaile,  or 
waike  in  Pauies  by  Duke  Humphry,  for  charitie  is  fled  that 

should  fetde  the  hungrie Many  shal  be  so  new-fangle  in 

their  formes  of  apparell,  that  a  new  f  ishion  shall  scarcelye  ap- 
peare  in  the  French  King's  Kitchin,  but  it  shall  be  presently 
translated  ouer  into  the  Court  of  England.  But  that  shal  cause 
mercers  to  haue  inany  bad  debtors,  and  make  catchpoles  to  be 
gentlemen,  for  like  bug-beares  they  shal  cause  such  as  feare 

them  to  flye  from  them Some  bookesellers  this  yeare  shall 

not  haue  cause  to  boast  of  their  winnings,  for  that  many  write 
that  flowe  with  phrases  and  yet  are  ba.rein  in  substance,  and 
such  are  neyther  w^e,  nor  wittye;  others  are  so  concise  that 
you  neede  a  confcnlarie  to  vndu^rstnnd  them,  others  haue  good' 
witie.s,  but  so  critical!  that  they  arraigne  othrr  mens  works  at 
the  tribunall  scale  of  euerycousuriousAristarchs  vnderslandiug, 
\vhen  their  owne  are  sacrificed  in  Pauies  Churchyard  for  isring- 


555 

ipg  in  the  Dutch  Curtezan  to  corrupt  English  ■conditians,,aod 
sent  away  Westward  for  carping,  both  at  court,  cittie  and 
countrie.  For  they  are  so  sodaiiie  witted,  that  a  flea  can  no 
sooner  friske  foprth,  but  they  must  needs  co'ment  on  her. 
Others  shal  be  so  subiect  to  affection,  that  whe~  they  haue  don 
any.  thing  worthy  of  praise  they  eyther  like  hennas  that  goe 
cackling,  in  regard  of  their  new  laid  egge  and  blaze  iheir  owne 
workes  abroad,  or  indeauour  by  secret  insinuation  to  bee 
commended  by  others  as  the  Italian  poet  did,  who  haiiing 
made  an  epigram  which  much  pleased  himselfe,  shewed  it  to 
some  of  his  friendes,  praysing  it  aboue  the  skies  ;  they  preit^ntly 
demaunding  who  was  the  author?  He  for  very  shame  of  pride 
wouM  not  tell  them  it  was  his,  but  with  a  fleering  countenance 
gaue  them  to  vndersta~d,  that  the  verses  and  the  laughter -were 
cosin-germaines,  and  issued  both  fro"  the  Sanie  proud  heart : 

therin  discouering  both  his  owne  selfe-loue  and  vanitie 

There  shall  be  also  as  much  strife  among  players  -who  shall 
haue  the  greatest  auditory,  as  it  warre  among  the  foure  knaues 

at  cardes  for  supeiiorite This  yeare  shall  breede  diners 

monsters  in  our  n:ilion,  whereof  some  shall  haue  such  long 
tongues,  as  they  can  keepe  no  counsel!;  but  whatsoeuer  they 
heare,  they  shall  presently  blab  foorth  &  oftentimes  make  a 
matter  worse  in  telling.  Some  others  shall  haue  such  light- 
nesse  in  their  braines,  that  albeit  they  know  little,  yet  ihey 
shall  meddle  much  and  thrust  theraselues  so  farre  into  others 
affayres,  that  for  lacke  of  looking  into  their  owne,  they  shall 
eyther  daunce  a  Beggers  Galliard,  or  feele  the  price  of  such 

follies  as  follow  Hadiwhtes  * Players  shal  haue  libertie  to 

be 

*  From  "Had  I  wist,"  i.  e.  had  I  known.  As  this  sentence 
appears,  from  the  frequent  use  of  it  by  eld  writers,  to  have  be- 
come almost  proverbial,  the  following  notices  of  its  occurrence 
may  not  be  altogether  unacceptable. — It  is  u-ed  ib  a  Letter  from 
Mr.  Cheeke  to  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  temp.  Edw.  VI'.  See 
Nuga  Ant.  Vol.  I.  p.  45,  where  Mr.  Park  also  refers  xo Heytvood" s 
Dialogue  and  Epigrams  upon  English  Proverbs. — "  Neuer  trust 
thou  these  training  toyes,  and  euer  restraine  thy  louing  glaunce, 
treade  on  the  eutn  path,  not  once  slippe  aside,  for  feare  of  Had  I 
ivist  proue  a  foole."  Meibancie' s  Piilotimus,  js^i,. — It  is  the  title 
and  subject  of  a  poem  in  the  first  sheet  of  the  Paradise  of  Dainty 
Deuices. — ^^In  a  poem  entitled  "  the  way  to  thrift."  .it  the  end  of 
The  Northern  Mothers  blessing,  said  to  be  written  nine  years  before 
the  death  of  Chaucer,  and  printed  for  Robert  Dexter,  1597,  we 
iave  * 

"  And  if  thou  hope  of  Jielp  and  tiisf, 

Of  lords  and  ladies  with  her  pleasance;  ^ 

And  yet  beware  of  Had  I  txist, 

For 


55^ 

be  as  famous  in  pride  and  idJenes,  as  tiiey  are  dissoltlte  in 
Huing,  arid  as  best  in  their  marriages  for  commuhitie,  as  vn- 
happie  in  their  choyces  for  honesty " 

This  will  shew  the  manner  of  chronicling  records  for 
the  Black  vear ;  the  tract  recommences  with  "  but  now 


For  old  enuy  makes  new  distaunce: 
In  pride  and  pouerty  is  great  penaunce, 
And  yet  is  danger  most  disease. 
Here  is  cumberrouse  acqiiaintance. 
When  noder  of  hem  oder  please  ; 
For  Had  1  ivht' comes  euer  to  late, 
When  there  lackes  both  lock  and  key 
What  nede  is  then  to  spare  the  yat, 
When  nothing  is  leued  in  the  way.  .  .  .  , 


Breton  has  it  in  a  passage  of  his  rare  tract  of  Pasqvils  passe  and 
fasseth  not,  1600. 

"  When  that  the  world  is  set  vpon  a  will. 
And  purses  carie  matters  as  they  list, 
When  all  the  grace  is  in  the  golden  skill. 
And  few  or  none  that  cares  for  had  1  luist ; 
And  each  one  thinkes  le  walketh  in  a  mist ; 
When  all  these  courses  fall  out  in  a  yeere, 
I  feare  me  Doomes  day  will  be  very  neere " 

,  The  author  g^  A  pleasant  Comoedie,  'wherein  is  merily  sheixien  the 
Wit  of  a  Woman,  1604.,  gives  it  in  dialogue,  after  a  fee,ble  puri 
upon  the  similarity  of  the  pronunciation  between  full  and  fool: 

"  Erinta,  Let  vs  haue  a  bjut  with  our  witts,  to  fit  our  wils  to 
the  full. 

Cianetta.  I  pray  God  it  ba  not  ill  speede  to  ihe  foole. 

£,r.  Tush,  Ware  hadliuisi,  and  good  enough " 

John  Davies  of  Hereford,  in  The  Scourge  of  Folly,  tells  the  Earl 
ofMoiitgomery,  in  an  epigram,  of  his  being  favoured  by  fortune: 
concluding; 

"  Now  vp  aloft  ;  then  straight  o'erivhelmM  belowe, 
Being  seates  of  shame  behnve,  and  at  the  liigh'st. 
Let  wisedome  guide  then,  whde  fortune  ilowe. 

So  shalt  thou  scape  the  rock  cal'd  Had  1  Twtt ; 
But  had  I  wi.^t  thou  hp^dst  beene  borne  trom  inee. 

On  fortune's  floud,  I  would  haue  followed  thee " 

To  conclude  with  the  author  of  the  above  article  in  The  Sco-urgc 
of  Cor'rupticn  or  a  crafty  kna-ve  needs  no  Broker,  by  Anthony  Nixon, 
iSi5Jhe  describes  attorneys  "  perswading  their  clyents  thcircause 
was  good,  and  kept  them  so  long  in  hope  o( bad  I  t^'ist,  that  they 
were  faiiie  to  sell  thsir  horse  to  continue  lawe  for  the  bridle." 


55T 

Seria  iocis,^'  wherein  the  author  reprobates  the  hypocrlsy 
of  the  Church  cf  Rome.  Some  occasional  verses  and 
translations  are  interspersed. 

J.  H. 


%  The  Movs-Trap.  [Wood-cut  of  a  spring  trap  with 
a  mouse  seizing  the  bait.  Motto:  "  Mordeniem 
Mordeoy\  Vni  si  possim,  fosse  placere  sat  est. 
Printed  at  London  Jvj-  F.  B.  dwelling  at  the  Flower- 
de-Luce  and  Crowne  in  PauVs-churchyard.  1606. 
qto.  Sig.  F.  iiij. 

There  is  an  attempt  at  little  wit  by  the  inscribing  of 
the  dedication  to  this  collection  of  Epigrams,  which  runs 
"  to  his  no  little  respected  friend  little  lohn  Bvck,  I  dedi- 
cate this  my  little  booke." — And  concludes,  "  thine  in 
the  prodigallity  of  his  loue's  sincerity.  H.  P."  which  are 
probably  the' initials  of  Henry  Petowe,  a  third  rate  poet 
of  that  period. 

An  address  "to  the  plaine-dealing  Reader,"  *honi  the 
author  distinguishes  as  "  Honest  friend  and  good  fellow ;" 
and  says,  "  I  could  haue  said  Right  Courteous,  woorthy,  and 
respected  Reader,  but  that  you  Itnowe  were  to  insinuate  j 
which  in  a  preface  of  so  plaine  consequence  I  hold  mnstfriuo- 
lous  and  vnnecess.ary :  howbeit  with  some  it  is  as  vsial  as  salt 
and  spoons  before  meat.  But  you  may  see  I  meddle  not  with 
yon,  or  any  so  iudjcious  audience  To  thee  my  therefore  kind 
familiar,  and  olde  acquaintance,  I  trust  I  shall  not  neede  vse 
manycomplementes  (a  worde  more  stale  the"  mackarel  in  luly) 
which  if  it  but  relish  in  thy  mouth  neare  so  little  (I  meane  if 
it  but  iumpe  with  thy  worste  conceits)  I  care  not:  at  least  do 
but  suspend  what  thou  immaginest,  and  it  shall  suffice.  Fare- 
well." 

Then  follows  "ad  Curiosumj"  of  twelve  lines,  intro- 
ductory of  one  hundred  epigrams. 

"  Aslie  Ficus  how  his  luck  at  dicing  goes. 

Like  to  the  tide  (saith  he)  it  ebbes  and  flowes; 

Then  I  suppose  his  chance  cannot  be  spod, 

For  all  meh.knowes,  'lis  longer  ebbe  iheh  flood." 

.■'■■!  I  wooJrr 


558 

"  I  wonder  when  our  poets  will  forbeare. 

To  write  'gainst  citizens  their  honest  wiues  i 
Who  (though  vnknowne  to  me)  yet  durst  I  swearfe, 

They  neuer  wronged  man  in  all  their  Hues. 
Put  case  their  husbands  pocket, — you  know  what. 
Must  they  on  stages  needs  be  pointed  at?" 

"  Signior  Fantasmus  nere  such  pleasure  found 
In  any  tiling,  as  in  a  deep  mouth'd  hound  : 
Small  was  that  pleasure,  when  vpon  one  day, 
He  lost  his  hayre,  and  hunted  all  away." 

",  Nay,  good  Sir,  glue  vs  leaue  at  least  to  know  yog. 
Was  not  your  father  once  a  man  of  trade  ? 
You  now  are  riche:  I  know  who  may  beshfow  you. 
That  for  your  sake,  were  younger  brothers,  made. 
Hearke  in  your  eare;  'tis  not  the  wealth  you  haue^ 
Can  shield  vou  from  the  scandall  of  a  knaue." 


"  Magus  would  needs  forsooth  this  other  day, 
Vpon  an  idle  humor  see  a  play: 
When  asking  him  at  dore,  that  held  the  box. 
What  might  you  call  the  play?  (quoth  he)  the  Fox. 
In  goes  my  Gen-man  (who  could  iudge  of  wit) 
And  being  asked  how  he  liked  it: 
Said  all  was  ill,  both  Fox  and  him  that  play'd  it. 
But  was  not  he  thinke  you  a  goose  thjit  said  it  i" 

All  "  Epilogos,"  of  six  lines,  describes  the  work  like 
apparel  made  in  Bircbin-lane: 

"   If  any  please  to  sute  themselues  and  weare  it. 

The  blame's  not  mine,  but  theirs  that  needs  will  bearc 
it." 

J.H, 


^  Choice,  Chance,  and  Change  :  or,  Conceites  in  their 
Colours.  Imprinted  at  London  for  Natkaniell  Fos  - 
Irooke,  and  are  to  he  sold  at  his  shop  in  Fault 
Churchyard  at  the  signe  of  the  Helmet.  1606.  qto. 
Sig.  K  4. 

"  To  the  Keader.    If  your  chnise  chaunce  to  bee  good, 
change  it  not,  if  your  conceit  chance  to  chuse'amisse,  allowe 

it 


-5^9 

it  notv  Ifjtcpn-y  a  good -colour,  apd  thecloth  be  jiaugiit,.  (es- 
teem it  not:  but  if  it  be  good  and  you  conceite  it  not,  change 
your  humor,  but  keepe  your  choise:  In  briefe,  here  are  con- 
ceits of  diuerse  colours,  some  in  graine,  and  none  but  will  bide 
the  weather  :  but  if  you  be  in  loue,  here  is  a  lesson  for  your 
learning,  where  you  may  find  passion  put  to  her  patience,  wit 
to  his  wliirliglgge,  the  foole  to.his  part,  and  the  better  conceits 
to  his  belter  corner:  many  wild  geese  flie  in  their  owne 
feathers,  and  a  lame  duck  is  a  pretie  fowle:  In  som,  there  is 
nothing  sogood  but  may  be  mended,  nor  so  ill  but  may  bre 
wrll  taken:  kind  fellowes  and  honest  wenches  I  know  will 
not  be  a:igry,  and  if  any  man  be  out  ol  his  wits,  God  send 
him  well  into  them  againe:  and  so  hoping  that  good  conceites 
nlll  chuse  the  best  and  leaue  the  worst,  I  will  change  kind 
ihankes  for  kind  acceptance,  and  so  rest,  as  I  find  cause." 

Then  follows  the  work  as  "  a  dialogue,  after  afriendlie 
greeting,  vpou  a  sodaine  meeting  betwcene  Arnofilo  and 
Tidero :  as  they  trauailed  vpon  the  way,  betwixt  Mount 
lerkin,  and  the  great  city  at  the  foot  of  the  wood,  in  the 
long  valley."  Tidero  having  visited  several  unknown 
coin"itrie5,  describes  the  manners  and  diversions  of  the 
people.  It  is  an  English  outline,  and  a  short  extract 
must  suffice,* 

"Oh 

*  The  following  notice  has  it';  value  : — Arfolio  inviting  his 
friend  to  partake  ot  his  humble  state  concludes,  "  therefore  I  pray 
thee,  let  vs  be  merry,-  and  let  vs  liuc  togither."  Tidero  replies; 
"  Wny  how  now  ?  doe  you  take  nie  toi'  a  v.oir.an  that  you  come 
vpo.i  iiiee  with  a  ballad,  of  Come  Hue  with  me  and  be  my  loue." 
— As  every  allusion  to  our  early  ballad!  is  ir\terestingi  I  shall  ex- 
tend this  note  wi'h  some  account  of  the  fragment  of  a  tract  in  my 
possessi-'n.  The  runnirg  title  is  "  The  World,'s  Folly," 
and  the  author  appears  to  describe  the  purgatoiy  of  Folly.  He 
.wanders  from  room^to  room,  and  to  each  new  character  assigns  a 
bnliad,  that  may  be.  presumed  was  distinguished  for  popularity.  A 
•jnan,  whose  credit  had  decayed  by  trusting  servants,  and  had  com- 
nienced  botcher,  "  had  standing  by  him,  for  meate  and  drinke,  a. 
pot  of  strong  ale,  wh  ch  was  often  at  his  nose,  that  it  kept  his  face 
in  so  good  a  coulour,  and  his  braine  in  so  kinde  a  heate,  as  for- 
gettirig  part  of  his  forepassed  pride,  in  the  good  humour  of  grieu- 
ing  patience,  made  him  with  a  hemming  sigh,  ilfauourdly  singe 
the  ballad  of  If'hilom  I  ivas  :  to  the  tune  of  Tom  Tinker."  An  old 
■jman,  shaking-  with  palsy,  who,  "  hauing  beeiie  a  man  (:f  some 
possessions  and  with  too  fat  feeding  of  horses,  too  high  keeping 
of  haukes',and  too  much  delighting  inbanquetinges,  througli  lai.ke 
of  husbandrie,  was  forced  to  leaue  himself  without  lande.  .  .. 
after  many  a  deepe  sighe,  with  a  hollow  vuice,  in  a  soleinne  tune. 


S6q 

**  6h  how  the  fisherman  would  discourse  of  hii  angle,  hh 
line,  his  cork,  his  lead,  his  bait,  his  net,  his  ginne,  his  leape, 
his  weere,  and  I  know  what  j  his  obseruing  (S  tinie,  day  and 
night,  his  patience  to  attend,  his  crafte  in  drawing  his  baite 
along  the  streame,  his  dressing  of  his  baite  to  drawe  the  fish  to 
it,  his  playing  with  the  fish  when  he  hadde  him,  his  hoising 
him  out  of  the  water,  and  then  what  a  messe  of  meate  he 
could  make  of  him,  although  perhappes  it  proued  all  but  ^ 
'^udgin :  but  if  it  were  a  codshead,  his  lippes  woiild  bee  worth 
the  licking,  and  in  this  was  his  element,  heere  was  his  study, 
and  in  these  matters  of  little  moment,  woulde  hee  spend  the 
whole  spirit  of  his  vnderstanding.  With  who'me  although  it 
w^re  no  greate  hurte,  for  to  loose  a  little  time,  yet  it  was 
some  pleasure  for  to  heare  him,  and  besides  to  noate  his  kinde 
of  pride  in  his  poore  trade."  J.  H. 

with  a  heauie  hearte  fell  to  sing  the  song  of  Okea  leaues  began  to 
'wither:  to  the  t\me  oi  Heauilie,  heauilie."  A  dapper  fellow  that 
in  his  youth  had  spent  more  than  he  got  on  his  person  "  fell  to 
sing  the  ballad  of  the  bluide  beggar,  to  the  tune  of  Heigh  ho."  The 
general  lover  having  no  further  credit  with  beauty  "  howled  out 
the  dittie  of  When  I  nxias  faire  and  young:  to  the  tune  oi  Fortune.'" 
The  next  is  whimsically  described  as  "  one  that  was  once  a  vir- 
gin, had  beene  a  little  while  a  mayde,  knew  the  name  of  a  wife, 
fell  to  be  a  widdow,"  and  finally  a  procuresss  ;  "  she  would  sing 
the  Lamentation  of  a  sinner,  to  the  tune  oi 'welladaye ."  A  decayed 
prostitute,  who  had  become  laundress  to  the  house,  "  stood  sing- 
ing the  ballet  oi  'All  a  greene  'willo-we:  to  the  famous  tune  of  Ding 
dong/'  A  man  with  good  personage,  with  a  froward  wife, 
"  hummed  out  the  ballad  of  the  breeches:  to  the  tune  of  Neuer, 
neuer.'"  His  termagant  spouse  drewe  from  her  pocket  "  a  ballad 
of  the  tinker's  ivife  that  beate  her  husbande .''''  To  the  last  character 
in  the  fragment  is  also  given  Raleigh's  ballad.  He  was  "  one  that 
had  bene  in  loue,  Kit  looking  on  his  mistresse  picture,  making  such 
a  leg^e  to  it,  writing  such  verses  in  honour  to  it,  and  committing 
such  idolatorie  with  it,  that  poore  man,  I  pittied  him:  and  in  his 
behalfe  sorrowed  to  see  how  the  Foole  did  handle  him  :  birt  there 
sat  he,  hanging  his  head,  lifting  vp  the  eyes,  and  with  a  deep? 
sigh,  singing  the  Ballad  of  Come  hue  'jxiith  me  and  be  my  hue :  to 
the  tune  of  adeix)  my  deere" — From  the  type,  which  is  black-letter, 
I  suppose  The  World'' s  Folly  printed  before  1600.  The- fragment 
described  is  one  sheet,  and  bears  Signature  C. 


•»*  The  favours  of  several  Corre;spondents  are  reserved  for  the 
next  Number,  which  will  conclude  the  Second  Volume. 


T.BensIey,  Printer, 
Bolt  Comt,  Fleet-stieet,  London. 


Brtttef)  ISifeliosrapfier^ 


N^    XL 


Tf  The  ancient  famous  and  honourable  History  of 
Amadis  de  Gaule  Discoursing  the  Adventures,  loues 
and  fortunes  of  many  Princes,  Knights  and  Ladies, 
as  well  of  Great  Brittaine,  as- of  many  other  king- 
domes  heside,  &c.  IViitten  in  French  by  the  Lord 
ofEssarSf  Nicholas  de  Herberay,  Ordinarie  Commis- 
sarie  of  the  Kings  Arlillerie,  and  his  Lieutenant 
thereof,  in  the  countrie  and  gouernment  of  Pic ar die, 
&c.  Printed  at  London  by  Nicholas  Okes,  16x9. 
Folio. 

A.  WOOD-CUT  of  a. ship  with  its  men  drawing  a  chest 
or  ark  up  its  sides  from  the  sea. 

This  Translation  is  dedicated  by  A.  M.  (the  initialsof 
Anthony  Munday)  to  Philip  Herbert,  Earl  ofMontgo^ 
mery  ;  and  contains  four  books,  of  which  the  third  and' 
fourth  were  published  firsts — and  have  therefore!'  separate' 
title-pages.     London,  Printed  for  Nicholas  Okes  dwell- 
ing  in  Foster  Lane i  1618.     In   the  dedication  of  these" 
last  to  the  same  nobleman,  after  expatiating  on  the  ad- 
vantage of  histories,  the  translator  says, 

■■  Warranted  by  so  worthy  presidents,  but  more  especially 
by  an  honourable  Ladies  earnest  importunitie,  for  these  two 
labours  by  mee  undertaken  and  now  (after  longer  delay  then 
was  intended)  fully  concluded:  1  am  bolde  to  present  your 
honour  with  these  two  bookes  orpartspf  Amadis  de  Gaole, 
the  third  and  the  fourth,  never  extant  before  in  our  English, 
and  which  long  since  bad  been  with  you?  Honor,  bat-that  1 
VOL,  II.  o  o  had 


5^3 

had  a  purpose  (according  to  my  promise  to  that  most  noble 
Ladie)  to  have  published  the  whole  first  five  volumes  together, 
whereof  three  have  formerly  (though  very  corruptly)  beene 
translated  and  printed,  but  these  not  till  now. 

"  May  it  please  your  Honour  to  accept  these  two  in  the 
mean  time,  and,  to  make  amends  for  so  long  iniuring  your 
worthie  expectation  :  in  Michaelmas  Terme  next  ensuing,  the 
two  former  parts,  the  first  and  second  (somewhat  better  suted 
then  before)  will  come  to  kisse  your  noble  hand:  and  then 
the  fift  and  sixt  shall  immediately  folio  we,  with  all  the  speed 
conveniently  may  be  used,  and  so  successively  the  other 
volumes  of  the  historic,  if  time  will  give  leave  to  finish  them 
■all,"  &c. 

In  the  Dedication,  prefixed  to  the  whole,  Munday 
says, 

"  Having  already  presented  your  Honour  with  the  third 
and  fourth  bookes  of  this  famous  History  of  Amadis  db 
Gaule,  and  standing  engaged  by  my  promise  to  translate  so 
many  more  of  theni,  as  time  and  your  noble  acceptance  shall 
thereto  enable  me;  finding  also  those  two  imprinted  parts  to 
appeare  as  a  body  without  an  head,  because  these  former 
bookes  are  the  guide  and  direction  to  them  all :  I  have  now 
fi.nished  them,  and  therefore  make  a  fresh  representation  of 
them  all  foure  to  your  Honour.  The  fift,  sixt,  seuenth  and 
eightbookes  (being  already  in  good  forwardnesse  of  trantlation,) 
with  as  much  expedition  as  possible  may  bee,  shall  very 
shortly  present  theniselues  before  you,  in  the  best  habit  that 
mine  ability  can  put  vpon  them. 

"  It  is  not  vnknowne  to  your  honour,  that  the  manifolde 
impressions  of  this  history,  the  bookes  thereof  being  now  come 
to  be  fine  and  twentie  in  number,  and  printed  in  places  far 
distant  a  sunder :  through  neglect  in  the  publishers,  or  defect 
of  the  bookes  which  are  perfect  indeede,  many  false  volumes 
have  flowne  abroadeaud  the  world  thereby  very  much  abused.* 

But 

*  Southey  says,  "  Comte  Tressan  was  of  opinion  that  the 
original  romance  concluded  with  the  rescue  of  Oriana" — "  With 
the  celebration  of  the  marriage,  the  story  obviously  concludes.  I 
have  ended  here,  and  left  the  reader  to  infer  that  Amadis  and 
Oriana,  like  the  heroes  of  every  nursery  tale,  lived  very  happy 
after." — "  Inferior  as  the  after-books  of  Amadis  certainly  are, 
they  form  so  singular  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  literatuje,  that  an 
abridgment  of  the  whole  series  into  one  language  is  to  be  de- 
sired."—" What  is  become  of  these  books,  which  wereonce  so  nu- 
merous I 


6^3 

But  by  the  helpe  of  that  worthy  Lady,  I  haue  had  siich 
bookes,  as  were  of  the  best  editipnsj  and  them  (as  I  haue 
already  begun)  I  intend  to  follow. 

"  In  the  mean  timej  (noble  Lord)  accept  of  these  foure 
bookes  I  beseech  you,  and  defend  them  from  the  venomous 
tongue  of  foule  mouthde  detractioUj  burying  all  my  imperfec- 
tions heerein  committed,  in  the  vrgent  impottunitie  of  that 
worthy  Lady,  by  whom  I  have  thus  boldly  presumed,  and  the 
rest  will  beare  me  blannelesse  against  your  least  mislike. 

Your  Honours  in  all  duty,  A.  M." 

The  new  translation  by  Mr.  Sout.hey,  in  4  vols.  lamo. 
1803,  under  the  title  of  ''  Amadis  of  Gaul  by  Fiasco 
Loheira,"  has  diminished  the  interest  and  value  before 
attached  to  this  work  of  Munday,  of  which  the  learned 
and  ingenious  translator  thus  speaks. 

"  I  should  have  abridged  from  the  English  translation  had 
it  been  accurate;  that  the  character  of  the  language  might 
have  assimilated  better  with  the  work.  But  the  English  ver- 
sion, which  bears  date  as  late  as  161S,  a  century  after  the  pub- 
lication of  the  book  in  Spain,  has  been  made  from  the  French; 
every  trait  of  manners,  which  were  foreign  to  D'Htirberay,  or 
obsolete  in  his  time,  is  accordingly  omitted,  and  all  the  foolish 
anachronisms  and  abominable  obscenities  of  the  Frenchman 
are  retained.  I  kept  my  eye  upon  it  as  I  proceeded,  for  the 
purpose  of  preserving  its  language,  where  it  was  possible.  A 
modern  style  would  have  altered  the  character  of  the  book; 
as  far  as  was  in  my  power  I  have  avoided  that  fault,  not  by 
intermixing  obsolete  words,  but  by  rendering  the  original  struc- 
ture of  sentences  as  literally  as  was  convenient,  and  by  reject- 
ing modern  phraseology  and  forms  of  period.  It  cannot  be 
supposed  that  I  have  uniformly  succeeded  in  this  attempt;  the 
old  wine  must  taste  of  the  new  cask."  * 

Mr. 


merous  ?  in  their  own  country  they  are  as  rare  as  they  are  in  this. 
Almost  one  might  suppose  that  the  Curare  and  the  Barber  had 
extended  their  inquisitorial  scrutiny  to  the  booksellei's  shops, 
and  committed  editions  instead  of  volumes  to  the  flames." — 
Southey's  Preface  to  Amadis  of  Gaul. 

*  Southey  remarks,  in  the  preface  to  his  falmerin  of  England, 
(4,  vols.  i2mo.  1867)  that  Palmeriii  of  England  is  the  third  of  a 
series  of  i"omances  beginning  with  Patmerin  De  Oli'va,  of  which 
see  an  account  in  Bibliogr.  I.  135. 

,002  The 


5^. 

Mr;,  Sl>uth.ey  Jnas^pHi^ei^,  tbe^wpr,k.  witWtfac  marriage,Dl 
Ama^s.  and  brbna;  which  forms  the  44th  and  last, 
chapter  of  the  fourth  book.  In.Munday's  translation  this, 
forms  the  30th  chapter.   To  whijch  are  added  the  follow- 

•'Chapters}.  How  iTrgunda.  the  unknowne  revealed  be+. 
fore  them  a\\,  such  matters  as  sliee  long  time  foretold  before 
they  happened.  Arid  ho\y  shee  took,  her  leave  of  Amadis,  as' 
als9  of  al  the  other  company  to  remoue  whence  she  came. 

Chapter  32.  How  Amadis  went  away  alone,  to  reaenge  tlie 
Knightes  losse,  whom  a  Lady  had  brought  dead  in  a  small 
barque:  and  of  that  w^ich  happened  to  him. 

Chapter  33.  How, Amadis  sayled  away  from  the  Port  of  the 
Island  of  the  Infant?,  to  pursue  the  purpose  hee  hid  formerly;^ 
intended. 

Chapter  34.  How  Darioletta  perceiuing  Amadis  to  bee  iti 
such  daunger,  made  great  raoane  and  lamentation.  And. how 
Balan  and  hee  were  made  friends. 

Chapter  35.  How  Grasandor  followed  in  the  quest  of  Ama.*. 
dis,  and  what  adventures  happened  to  him  in  his  ti-ayailes. 


The  next  in  the  series  is  the  History  6f.  Primalean.  Of  this  ro- 
mance Mundajr  first  translated  that  part  which  relates  to  Palmen- 
</oj.^-of  which  see  an  accoijnt  in  Bibl.  1.  zz^.  Tlie  rest  came  out 
under  the  following  title— "  'The  fampus  and  renowned  History  of 
Primaleon  of  Greece,  'sonne  to  the  great  and  mighty  Prince  Palmerin 
D'Oli'va,  Emferor  ofConstantinofle,  describing  his  knightly  deedes  of 
armes ;  as  also  the  memorable  ad'ventures  of  Prince  Edvoard  of 
England :  and  containing  the  former  History  of  Palmindos,  brother  to 
the  fortunate  Prince  Primaleon,  &c.  Translated  out  of  French  and 
Italian  by  A.  M.  1C95 — 1619.  Palmerin  of  England,  the  third,  v/as 
published  first,  viz.  in  158,8.     See  an  account  of  it  in  Bibliogr.  I, 

>3S- 

Southey  observes,  that  Munday  "  began  Palmenn  of  England 
with  some  care,  but  he  soon  resigned  the  task  to  others  less  quali- 
fied than  himself;  for  certain  it  is,  that  at  least  three  fourths  of 
the  book  were  translated  by  one,  who  neither  understood  French, 
nor  English,  nor  the  story  which  he  was  translating,"  &c. 
"  Printing  had  no  sooner  been  invented  than  authorship  became 
a  trade— Martin  Luther  speaks  of  the  price  per  sheet  in  his  days — 
and  this  Palmerin  is  decisive  proof  either  that  Anthony  Munday 
gold  his  name  to  the  booksellers,  or  had  established  a  manufactory- 
of  translations  himself,  and  set  his  mark  upon  what  was  produced 
in  it,  as  being  well  known  in  the  market.  This  will  account  for, 
the  rapidity  with  which  his  publications  succeeded  each  other." 

Chapter 


5^5 

Chapters©.  How  Atriadis  being  in  the  island  of  the' lied 
Tower,  conferring  with  Giasatidor  espiefd  a  small  foist  oVi  the 
sea,  which  put  into  the  port,  having  people  in  her,  that  told 
him  the  tidings  of  the  Annie,  which  was  gone  for  Sansuegua, 
and  to  the  isle  of  Landes,  or  the  Profound  Isle. 

Chapter  37.  How  Balan  being  in  the  Tent  of  Galuanes,  the 
principall  Commander  of  (he  Armie  came  to  see  him ;  ajifl 
what  conference  they  had  together. 

Chapter  33.  How  King  Lisuart  being  a  bunting,  was  taken 
prisoner  by  enchantment,  and  very  strangely." 

Of  these  additions  Mr.  Soiithey  gives  the  fgliowiiig 
account. 

"  The  chapters  which  follow  in  the  Spanish  are  evidently 
added  to  introduce  the  fifth  boolj,  or  what  Montalvo,  in 
something  like  a  quack's  Greek,  calls  the  Sergas  of  Esplandian. 
It  is  one  romance  growing  out  of  another  as  clumsily  as  a 
young  oyster  upon  the  back  of  iis  parent.  The  episode  of  the 
Queen  of  Dacia,  has  been  introduced  for  the  same  purpose. 
ThFshas  been  here  reudnod,  that  if  any  person  should  hereafter 
continue  these  volumes  upon  the  plan  of  the  BibLiotheque  des 
Romans,  every  thing  necessary  to  render  the  after  stories  in- 
telligible may  be  found  in  this,  though  this  is  in  itself  com- 
plete. The  patchwork  of  Montalvo's  imagination  is  if)  many 
pliices  distinguishable:  the  letters  upon  Esplandian's  breast, 
the  mont  foolish  fiction  in  the  book,  are  his  invention,  for  the 
interpretation  is  in  the  Sergas.  Probably  he  has  lengthened 
the  period  between  the  quarrel  of  Amadis  and  the  King,  and 
their  reconciliation.  Oriana  has  no  spell  to  preserve  her 
charms,  when  she  wins  the  prize  of  beauty,  and  yet  her  son  is 
at  the  age  of  manhood;'  it  W4s  convenient  for  the  continuation 
of  the  history,  th?t  Esplandian  should  be  of  age  to  follow 
arms  when  his  father  retired.  If  the  fauhs  inserted  by  the 
Spaniard,  with  reference  to  his  own  supplement,  were  weeded 
out,  the  skilful  structure  of  the  original  story  would  not  be 
Jess  admirable  than  the  variety  and  beauty  of  its  incidents." 

Southey  ends  his  first  volume  with  chapter  35  ofBook  I. 
bf  the  seven  additional  chapters  of  Munday,  numbers 
39  and  40  are  omitted,  so  that  ilio  last  nun,iberis  44. 

I  transcribe  chapter  42  as  a  specimen. 

*' How  Galaor  went  lulth  the  Damosell  after  tketCnisht 
that  dismounted  lihn  and  his  Companions  in  thh  for 
p  o  3  rest, 


566 

rest,  whom  when  he  found,  they  combated  together, 
and  afterward  in  the  sharpest  point  of  their  combat 
they  knew  each  other. 

"  Four  dales  together  rode  Galaor  with  the  damosell,  seek- 
itig  the  Knight  that  unhorsed  him  in  the  forrest,  for  which 
he  was  so  ouercome  wiih  anger,  as  euery  Knight  hee  met 
withall  deerely  felt  it,  because  in  combat  many  receined  their 
death.  Then  esp3'lng  a  faire  castle  on  the  top  of  a  highe 
mountaine,  the  damosell  told  him,  there  was  no  other  place 
neere  where  they  might  lodge  that  nigiit :  wherefore  he  being 
glad  to  accept  (hereof,  they  came  to  the  castle,  finding  many 
gentlemen  and  ladies  sporting  together,  among  whom  was  a 
Knight  aged  about  threescore  yearcs,  who  taking  Galaor  by 
the  hand,  did  him  all  the  honour  might  be  devised.  My 
Lord,  quoth  Galaor,  your  courtesie  to  us  is  so  great,  that  albeit 
we  were  determined  to  passe  further  on  our  way,  yet  for  your 
sake  wc  are  content  to  stay  with  you  this  night.  Then  the 
Knight  conducted  Galaor  into  a  fairs  chamber,  leauing  the 
damosftU  among  the  other  ladies;  and  after  the  Prince  was 
unarmed,  the  Knight  spake  to  him  in  this  manner — Here  Sir 
may  you  rest,  and  take  your  ease,  calling  for  every  thing  you 
stand  in  neede  of;  for  God  knows  I  have  used  such  enter- 
tainement  not  onely  to  you,  but  to  all  Knights  errant  that 
passed  this  ■'?'ay,  because  sometime  I  have  beene  as  now  you 
are.  Yet  hath  nature  giuen  mee  two  sonnes,  whose  onely  de-- 
light  is  in  search  of  aduentures,  but  now  they  lie  sicke  in  their 
beds,  being  cruelly  wounded  by  a  Knight,  who  with  one 
launce  cast  them  both  from  their  saddle^.  But  they  were  so 
ashamed  at  this  foyle,  as  they  mounted  again  and  pursued  the 
Knight,  overtaking  him  as  hee  enterfd  a  barque  to  passe  the 
water,  where  my  sonnes  said  to  hira  that  in  respect  he  had 
iousted  so  well,  they  would  trie  his  fortune  in  combat  with 
the  sword  :  but  the  Knight  made  answere  he  could  not  now 
intend  it,  yet  would  they  needes  presse  him  so  farre,  as  to 
hinder  his  entrance  into  the  barque.  Whereupon  a  lady  being 
in  his  company  said,  they  wronged  her  ouermuch  to  stay  her 
Knight :  but  they  were  not  to  depart,  til  he  had  combated 
Avith  them  at  the  sword.  Seeing  it  will  be  no  otherwise,  rcr 
plied  the  Lady,  he  shall  enter  fight  with  the  better  of  you 
both,  on  condition  that  if  he  be  conqueror,  the  other  do  for- 
bear  the  combat.  They  answered,  if  the  one  were  vanquished, 
the  other  would  reuenge  his  foyle,  which  when  the  Knight 
heard  he  was  so  angry,  as  he  bad  them  both  come  together, 
in  respects  they  were  importunate,  and  would  not  rest  con- 
tented. 


567 

tented.  In  fte  triall  one  of  my  sons  sustained  the  worst, 
wherefore  his  brother  seeing  him  in  such  perill,  strove  to  res- 
kue  him  from  death  :  yet  ail  was  in  vaine,  for  the  Knight 
handled  them  so  roughly,  as  he  left  them  like  dead  men  in  the 
field,  and  afterwaid  passed  away  in  the  barque.  No  sooner 
heard  I  of  this  mishap,  but  1  sent  for  my  sonnes,  and  home 
were  they  brought  in  this  daungerous  plight:  but  that  you 
may  giue  credit  to  my  words,  behold  here  their  armour  cut 
and  mangled,  as  I  thinke  the  like  stroakes  neuercarae  from 
any  man's  hand.  Galaor  marvailiug  at  this  discourse,  de- 
manded what  armes  the  conquering  Knight  bare:  when  he 
was  answered  his  shield  to  be  of  vennifioii  colour,  with  two 
black  lions  figured  thereon.  By  these  tokens  Galaor  knew 
him,  that  it  was  the  same  man  he  irauailed  to  finde,  which 
made  him  demand  of  his  friendly  host,  if  he  had  no  further 
knowlfge  of  the  Knighi.  No  verily  Sir,  quoth  the  auncient 
gentleman.  For  this  night,  answered  Galaor,  let  us  take 
our  rest,  and  to  morrow  I  intend  to  seeks  the  man  you  talke 
of.  For  already  1  haue  trauiled  four  dales  in  his  search  :  but 
if  I  meete  wiih  him,  I  hope  to  reuenge  the  iniuries  of  your 
sonnes,  and  other  likewise  whom  he  hath  offended,  or  else  it 
will  cost  the  price  of  my  life.  1  could  rather  wish,  said  the 
Knight,  that  leauing  this  perillous  enterprize  you  would  take 
some  other  course,  seeing  ray  two  sonnes  haue  beene  so  hardly 
intreated,  their  own  wilful  folly  being  cause  thereof.  So 
breaking  oft' talke,  Galaor  took  his  rest  till  the  next  morning, 
when  taking  leaue  ot  the  ancient  Knight  he  rode  away  with 
the  damosell,  who  brought  him  to  the  place  of  |)assage  in  the 
barque:  where  crossing  the  water  to  the  other  side,  they 
came  to  a  vdry  beautifull  castle,  whiiher  ihedamosel  rode  be- 
fore, aduising  the  Prince  to  stay  her  returne.  She  tarryed  not 
long,  but  comming  back  again  brought  another  damosel  with 
her  of  excellent  beauty,  and  ten  men  beside  all  on  horseback  : 
after  the  fair  gentlewoman  had  salu'ed  Galnor,  she  said.  Sir, 
tliis  damosell  that  came  iq  your  company  telleth  me,  how  you 
scf.ke  a  Knight  who  beareth  two  black  lions  in  a  verraillion 
shield,  and  are  desirous  lo  know  his  name:  this  is  very  cer- 
taine,  that  you  nor  any  other  can  linde  him  for  three  yeeres 
space,  but  onelv  by  force  ot  armes,  a  matter  nol  so  easie  to  be 
accomplished  by  you,  for  perswade  yourseife,  his  like  is  not  to 
be  founde  in  all  the  isles  of  Great  Brittaine.  Lady,  quoth 
Galaor,  yet  will  I  not  giue  over  his  search,  although  hee  con- 
ceale  bimselfein  this  sort:  and  if  I  meeie  with  him,  it  shall- 
like  niep  better  to  combate  with  him,  then  to  know  my  de- 
ipand  by  any  other  way.  Seeing  then,  answered  tlic  damosell, 
o  o  4  you? 


568 

your  desire  is  such,  I  will  shew  you  him  within  three  dayes 
ensuing,  for  this  gentlewomans  sake,  being  my  cousin,  who 
according  to  her  promise  hath  earnestly  entreated  roe.     Galaor 
requited  her  with  many  thankes,  and  so  they  trauailed  on,  ar- 
riuing  in  the  euening  at  an  arme  of  the  sea,  where  they  found 
a  barque  ready  for  passage  to  a  little  island,  and  certaine  mari- 
ners in  it,  who  made  them  all  sweare,  if  they  had  any  more 
then  one  Knight  in  their  co'pany.     No,  credit  me,  replied  the  • 
damosell:  hereupon  they,  set  sayle,  and  away:  then  Galaor 
demanded  of  the  damosell,  the  reason  why  they  tooke  such  an 
oath.     Because,  quoth  she,  the  Lady  of  the  Isle  whither  we 
goe,  hath  so  ordained  it  that  they  phall   let  passe  but  one 
Knight  at  one  time:  and  no  other  must  they  bring  till  his  re- 
turnc,  or  credible  intelligence  of  his  death.     What  is  hee,  said 
Galaor,  that  vanquisheth  or  killeth  them?  The  selfe  same 
Knight  you  seeke,  answered  the  damosell,  whom   the  Lady 
hath  kept  with  her  more  then  haife  a   yeere,  intirely  louing 
him  :   and  the  cause  of  this  affection  proceedeth  from  a  Tour- 
ney, which  not  long  since  hee  maintained  in  this  countrey, 
for  the  loue  of  her  and  another  faire  lady,  whom  the  Knight 
(being  a  stranger  here)  conquered,  defending  her  cause  with 
whom  he  now  is,  and  euer  since  shee  bare  him  such  affection, 
as  without  grart  of  his  lone  she  wold  have  dyed.     Sometime 
hee  is  desirous  to  seekc  after  strange  aduentures,  but  then  the 
Lady  to  detaine  him  still  in  th-s  place,  caueeth  such  Knights 
as  come  hither  to. passe  one  after  another  against  whom  he 
combateth,   and   not   one  halh  yet   returned   vnnanquished ; 
such  as  die  in  fight  are  there  interred,  and  the  foyled  sent 
back  againe,  despoyled  of  their  horse  and  armes,  which  the 
Knight  presenteth  to  his  Lady,  she  being  one  of  the  fairest  crea- 
tures in  the  world  named  Corisanda,  and  the  isle  Bratiisande. 
Know  you  not  the  cause,  said  Galaor,  wherefore  the  Knight 
went  not  many  days  since  to  a  Forrest  where  I  found  him, 
and  kept  the  passage  there  fifteene  dayes  together  ag.iinst  all 
such  as  trauailed  that  way?  Yes  mary,  quoth  the  Damosel,  he 
promised  a  boone  to  a  Lady  before  he  came  hither,  wheifore 
she  in  treated  him  to  keepe  the  Forrest  for  the  space  of  fifteene 
dayes:  yet  hardly  he  got  licence  of  his  faire  mistresse,  who 
allowed  him  but  a  moneth  to  stay  and  returne 

"  By  this  lime  they  were  landed,  and  come  before  a  goodly 
castle,  where  stood  a  pillar  of  marble,  with  a  home  hanging 
on  it,  which  the  Damosell  bad  him  winde,  and  the  Knight 
would  come  forth  at  the  sound  thereof.  After  he  had  giuen  a 
good  blast,  certain  pages  came  forth  of  the  castle,  who  set  up  a 
pauillion  in  the  middest  of  the  field,  snd  six  ladies  (soone  after) 

came 


came  walking  forth  one  of  them  seeming  by  her  gesture  an4 
countenance  to  be  commander  of  the  rest,  taking  her  place 
accordingly  in  the  tent.     I  marvaile,  said  Galaor,  the  Knight 
tarrieth  so  long,  I  desire  one  of  you  to  will  the  Lady  send  for 
him,  because  busines  elsewhere  of  great  importance  forbiddeth 
me  to  trifle  time  here  in  vaine.     One  of  the  Damosells  ful- 
filled his  request.     What?  answered  Corisanda,  maketh  he 
so  small  account  of  our  Knight  ?  thinketh  he  so  easily  to  es- 
cape from  him?  hath  he  such  mind  of  other  afiaires  before 
hee  see  the  end  of  this  attempt?  include  I  thinke  he  shall  re- 
turne  sooner  then  he  expectethj  but  with  slender  advantage 
for  him  to  bragge  of;  then  calling  a  Page,  she  said,  Goe  and 
bid  the  strange  Knight  come  forth.    The  Page  quickly  did  his 
message,  and  soone  after  the  Knight  came  forth  on  foote,  being 
all  armed  except  with  his  helmet,  which  was  brought  after  him 
with  his  launce,  and  another  Page  leading  his  courser:  when 
he  came  before  hit  lady,  she  said.  Behold,  Sir,  here  is  a  brave 
Knight,  who  thinketh  lightly  to  overcome  you,  and  accounteth 
himself  assured  of  the  victory:  I  pray  you  let  him  know  the 
price  of  his  folly.     After  these  wordes  she  kissed  and  em- 
braced him,  but  Galaor  noting  all  these  misteries,  thought  he 
tarried  too  long  from  the  combat:  at  length  the  Knight  being 
mounted,  they  prepared  themselves  to  the  carieje,  and  breaking 
their  launces  in  ttie  encounter,  were  both  wounded.     Galaor 
presently  drew  his  sword,  but  the  Knight  entreated  him  to 
joust  once  more.     With  all  my  heart  replyed  Galaor,  yet  I  am 
sory  my  horse  is  not  so  good  as  yours,  for,  if  it  were,  I  could 
be  content  not  to  give  over,  till  one  of  us  lay  along  on  the 
ground,  or  all  these  launces  broken  in  peeces.     The  Knight 
made  him  no  answere,  but  commanded  a  squire  to  bring  them 
other  staves,  and  meeting  together,  Galaor's  horse  was  almost 
down  :  the  Knight  likewise  lost  his  stirrops,  being  glad  to 
catch  holde  by  the  mane  of  his  horse,  whereat  as  one  some.; 
what  ashamed,  he  said  to  Galaor,  you  are  desirous  to  combat 
with  the  sword,  which  I  have  deferred,  not  for  any  doubt  of 
my  selfe,  but  onely  to  spare  you,  notwithstanding  we  must 
needs  now  try  the  issu  thereof. 

"  Do  what  you  can,  answered  Galaor,  I  meane  to  bee  re- 
venged for  your  kindnesse  in  the  Forrest :  these  words  made 
the  Knight  soone  to  remember  him,  saying,  you  must  do  no 
more  then  you  can,  and  happily  before  you  depart  hence,  you 
may  sustaine  a  foyle  worse  then  the  first.  Hereupon'  they  fell 
to  the  combat,  which  began  and  continued  with  such  fury,  as 
the  ladies  were  driven  into  wonderful!  amazement,  yea,  them'!> 
selves  were  abashed  that  they  held  out  so  long,  having  their 

armour 


37° 

armour  mangled,  their"  shields  defaced,  their  bodies  sore 
wounded,  and  the  blood  streaming  downe  upon  their  horses, 
Galaor  never  being  in  such  dauuger  of  his  life,  but  when  hee 
fought  with  his  brother  Amadis,  which  made  him  carry  better 
opinion  of  the  Knight,  and  both  of  them  being  glad  to  breath 
awhile,  Galaor  entered  into  these  speeches.  You  see.  Sir,  I 
have  the  better  of  the  combat,  let  me  therefore  know  your 
name,  and  why  you  conceale  your  selfe  so  closely  :  wherein 
you  shall  doe  me  very  great  pleasure,  and  wee  may  continue 
friends,  else  worse  will  ensue  then  you  imagin.  Be  wel  as- 
sured, answered  the  Knight,  our  strife  shall  not  be  ended  so 
easily,  nor  am  I  to  bee  overcome  so  lightly  as  you  weene,  be- 
side, I  was  never  more  desirous  to  prolong  a  combat,  then  I  am 
at  this  instant,  because  I  never  met  with  the  Knight  that 
tryed  me  so  well:  but  to  you  nor  any  other  will  I  bee  knowne, 
except  one  Knight  who  had  power  to  command  me.  Be  not 
so  opinitive,  replyed  Galaor,  tor  1  sweare  to  you  by  the  faith  I 
owe  to  God,  nevtr  to  leave  you  till  I  know  wliat  you  are,  and 
why  you  conceale  yourselfe  so  secretly.  And  1  sweare  to  you, 
quoth  the  Knight,  while  breath  is  in  my  Lody  you  shall  not 
know  it  by  me,  and  rather  would  I  presently  die,  then  any  but 
two  should  understand  what  I  am :  yet  I  know  not  them,  but 
they  may  and  shall  have  knowlege  of  me.  And  what  are  they, 
said  Galaor,  you  esteeme  so  much?  Neither  will  I  disclose 
them  to  you,  answered  the  Knight.  Both  them  and  my  for- 
mer demaund,  quoth  Galaor,  I  will  know,  else  one  of  us  shall 
die,  or  both  together.  J  am  well  pleased  therewith,  replyed 
the  Knight. 

"  So  began  they  to  charge  each  other  afresh,  as  if  they  had 
not  fought  together  before  at  all :  but  the  strange  Knight  re- 
ceived many  cruel  wounds,  which  made  his  strength  more  and 
more  to  faile:  and  the  Lady  seeing  the  great  danger  of  his  life, 
would  suffer  him  to  endure  no  longer  perill,  but  coming  to 
Galaor  said,  Forbeare  Sir  Knight,  would  God  the  barque  and 
mariners  had  sunke,  before  they  brought  you  hither.  Lady, 
quoth  Galaor,  you  ought  not;  to  blame  me  in  doing  my  devoire 
against  this  Knight,  who  haih  outraged  me,  and  many  beside,, 
for  which  I  meane  to  be  revenged  this  day.  Forbeare,  said  the 
Lady,  to  wrong  him  any  more,  otherwise  you  may  fall  into  an- 
extremity  without  any  mercy. 

"  It  matters  not  what  may  happen,  answered  Galaor:  but 
nothing  shall  make  me  give  oyer,  uniill  he  have  satisfied  my 
demand.  And  what  is  that?  quoth  she.  He  must  tell  me 
his  name,  replyed  Galaor,  and  why  so  closely  he  concealeth 
hiraselfe,  likewise  what  the  two  Knights  are  of  whom  he  told 

mee 


571 

roee  but  even  now.  Proceede  no  farther  in  combat,  said  the 
Lady,  and  I  will  satisfie  your  demand.  This  gentleman  is 
named  Don  Florestan,  concealing  himselfe  in  this  secret  man- 
ner to  finde  his  two  brethren,  who  are  in  this  country  ac- 
counted such  men  at  Armes,  that  albeit  he  hath  well  tried  him- 
selfe with  you,  yet  will  hee  not  bee  commonly  knowne,  till  he 
have  arcoriiplished  such  deedes  in  chivalrie,  as  may  deserve  to 
equal!  him  with  them,  who  are  at  this  time  in  King  Lisuert's 
court,  one  of  them  being  named  Amadis,  the  other  Galaor, 
and  all  three  the  sonnes  to  King  Perion  of  Gaule.  Alas,  what 
have  I  done?  quath  Galaor;  heere  brother  take  my  sword,  and 
therewithal!  the  honor  of  the  fight,  for  I  have  offended  over 
much.  What?  said  the  Knight,  am  I  then  your  brother  ?  Ac- 
cording to  this  Lady's  speeches,  answered  Galaor,  you  are,  and 
I  am  your  brother  Galaor,  Florestan  amazed  at  this  accidentj 
fell  on  his  knee,  saying.  My  Lord,  I  desire  you  to  pardon 
me ;  for  this  offence,  in  combating  unknown  with  you  was 
caused  by  no  other  reason,  but  that  I  durst  not  name  my- 
self your  brother,  till  I  had  made  some  immitations  of  your 
noble  vertues.  Galaor  courteously  embraced  him  in  his  armes, 
the  teares  streaming  from  his  eyes  with  ioy,  and  greeving  to 
see  him  so  sore  wounded,  doubting  least  his  life  was  in  great 
danger  :  but  when  the  Lady  saw  them  so  good  friends,  and 
the  enmity  converted  into  such  humility,  as  one  right  glad 
thereof,  she  said  to  Galaor,  Worthy  Sir,  ihoLigh  first  you  gave 
me  occasion  of  great  heavinesse,  yet  now  with  sufficient  ioy 
you  have  recompenced  me.  So  taking  each  of  them  by  the 
hand,  she  walked  with  them  into  the  castle,  where  they  being 
lodged  in  two  sumptuous  lieds,  herselfe  (skilful!  in  chirurgerie) 
cured  their  wounds.  Thus  remained  the  two  brethren  with 
the  rich  and  beautifull  Corisanda,  who  desired  their  health  as 
her  owne  wel  fare."  . 

B. 


^  Fame's  Roule :  or  the  names  ofojlr  dread  Soveraigne 
Lord  King  Charles,  his  royal  Queen  Mary,  and  his 
most  hopef'ull  posterili/.  Together  with  the  names  of 
the  Dukes,  Marquesses,  Earls,  Fiscounts,  Bishops, 
Privie-counsellors,  Knights  of  the  Garter,  and  Judges 
of  his  three  renowned  kingdomes,  England,  Scotland, 
and  Ireland;  anagrammatiz'd  and  expressed  hy 
acrosticke  lines  on  their  names.     By  Misiris  Mary 

Page, 


$72\ 

Fage,  wife  of  'Robert  Fage  the  ,)/ounger,  g'entleM,c(n. 
London,  printed  by  Richard  Oulton.  1637.  410. 
pp.297. 

This  book  might  have  been  entitled  Volumen  Aulicum, 
or  a  Court-Galcndar  for  the  year  1637,  expanded  into 
adulatory  verse.  The  number  of  royal  and  noble  person- 
agies  here  enrolled,  amoimts  to  four  hundred  and  twenty ; 
all  of  whom,  in  proportion  to  the  length  of  their  respec- 
tive names,  are  elaborately  lauded  by  Misiris  Fage,  in 
anagrammatized  mottos  and  acrostical  essays :  the  let- 
ters of  each  name  forming  initial  letters  to  each  line,  and 
the  anagram  of  each  name  being  worked  upon  as  mate- 
rials for  the  metre.  A  few  specimens  may  be  admissible, 
as  the  volume  is  considered  extremely  rare. 

After  a  prose  dedication  to  Charles  the  First,  to  his 
Queen,  with  all  their  progeny  and  alliances ;  after  a 
second,  to  James  Duke  of  Lepox,  with  several  other 
peers,  &c.  the  authoress  proceeds  to  exhibit  "  Certaine 
Rules  for  the  true  discovery  of  perfect  Anagrammes  :" 
which  she  thus  accommodates  to  all  the  absurd  purposes 
of  anagrammatical  torture. 

*'  E  may  most-what  conclude  an  English  word. 

And  so  a  letter  at  a  need  afford. 

H  is  au  aspiration,  and  no  letter; 

It  may  be  had  or  left,  winch  we  think  better, 

I  may  be  I  or  Y,  as  neede  require} 

Q,  ever  afier,  doth  a  u  desirej 

Two  V's  may  be  a  double  uj  and  then 

A  double  u  may  be  two  V's  again. 

X  may  divided  be;  and  S  and  C 

May  by  that  letter  comprehended  be. 

Z,  a  double  S  may  comprehend : — 

And  lastly,  an  apostrophe  may  ease 

Sometimes  a  letter,  where  it  doth  not  please." 
Exemplifications  of  these  rules  follow,  in  praise  of  t-hg 
authoress,  by  A.  Death :  with  verses  by  I.  C.  Tho. 
Heywood,  and  T.  B.  Her  own  metrical  labours  then 
commence,  and  fill  the  remainder  of  this  bulky  tome. 
The  following  are  devoted  to  persons  well  deserving^ 
and  are  favourable  Sprinklings  from  what  Dame  Fage 

denominated 


673 

denominates  her  "  bowl   of  water  from   the  fount  of 
Helicon." 

"  To  the  Right  Hon.  Thomas  Lord  Windsor,  Baron  of 

Bradtnham.  , 

^  Thomas  Windsor. 

Anagraniraa. 

How   MANS  STORY'D. 

The  chronicles  and  histories  record 
Heroick  acts  of  each  most  honour  d  Lord, 
On  which  the  ages,  that  succeed  do  view 
Magnanimously  noble  to  pursue. 
And  follow  rightly  in  the  honour'd  trace. 
Such  worthy  wits  of  the  true  noble  race. 

Well  weigh  you  this,  and  in  your  deep  foresight 

In  history  you-  place  a  great  delight. 

Noting  therein  how  man  is  storied, 

Declared  as  alive  when  he  is  dead. 

Sir,  in  the  path  of  vertue,  sith  that  you 

O  noble  pper,  so  nobly  do  pursue. 

Recorded  fair  your  v/oith  will  Clio  shew." 

"  To  the  Right  Hon.  John  Earl  of  Clare,  JLurd  Hough 
ton  of  Houghton. 

John  Hollis 

Anagiamma. 

Oh!  on  hx  hills. 

In  vertue  when  I  see  you  make  such  speed. 
Oh,  it  doth  then  no  admiration  breed, 
Hy,  en  hy  hills  of  honour  that  you  stand: 
Nature  commandeth  vertue  such  a  band. 
Honour  on  vertue  ever  should  attend : 
Oh,  on  hy  hills  you  may  for  ever  wend: 
Lovitig  of  vertue,-  which  doth  shine  so  cleare. 
Likely  it  is,  you  earl  of  Clare  appeare. 
Insue  then  well,  what  you  have  well  begun, 
So  on  hy  hills  to  staiid  you  well  have  won." 

"  To  the  Right  Hon.  Thomas  Earl  of  Kelly,  Fiscownt. 
Fenton,    &c. 

Thp:([Ias,  Ekskeiue. 
Anagramma. 

O  MEEK  Ha's  NY  KK3T. 

The  man  that  is  exalted  in  his.  pride,- 
Hath  no  fuundaiiun  certain  to  abide. 

Only 


Only  by  pride  man  doth  contention  make ; 
Meekness  true  wisdom  never  doth  forsake  : 
Afore  4estruction  pride  doth  go  likewise, 
'  So  a  meek  heart  before  a  man  doth  rise. 

Eternal  honour  then  do  you  abide. 
Retaining  meekness,  which  doth  right  betide: 
Sir,  with  due  honour  which  doth  you  embrace. 
Keep  meekness  then,  and  keep  a  noble  place. 
Ever,  0  yet,  a  meek  heart  has  ny  rest 
In  endless  honours,  which  will  you  invest; 
Nay,  further,  whenas  honour  here  is  gone. 
Eternal  honour  you  will  wait  upon." 

Much  of  this  last  metrical  essay  will  be  found  in  the 
book  of  Job;  and  he  who  has  studied  that  book  with 
serious  practical  application,  will  alone  find  himself 
equal  to  the  entire  perusal  of  Mrs.  Fage':«. 

T.  P. 


^  The  Temperate  Man,  or  Ike  Right  Way  of  Preserve 
ing  Life  and  Health,  together  with  soundness  of  the 
senses.  Judgment,  and  Memory  unto  extream  Old 
Age.  In  three  Treatises.  The  first  written  by  the 
Learned  Leonardus  Lessiiis.  '1  he  Second  by  Lodo- 
wick  Cornaro,  a  .noble  Gentleman  of  Venice.  The 
Third  by  a  famous  Italian.  Faithfully  Englished. 
London :  Printed  by  J.  R.  for  John  Starkey.  at  the 
Miter  in  Fleet-street,  near  Temple  Bar.  1678. 
Duod. 

Among  the  contributors  in  praise  of  this  translation, 
occurs  the  name  of  Richard  Crashaw,  whose  lines  seem 
worth  preserving,  and,  however  the  work  may  not  yet 
class  among  rare  articles,  they  do  not  appear  to  have  been 
collected  with  his  other  poems. 

"  To  the  Reader,  upon  this  Books  intent. 

"  Heaik  hither,  Reader,  wouldst  thou  see 
Nature  her  own  physician  be?    • 

■    W'ouldsc 


575 

Wouldst  see  a  man  all  his  own  wealth. 
His  own  musick,  his  own  health  ?  i 

A  man,  whose  sober  soul  can  tell 
How  to  wear  her  garments  well; 
Her  garments  that  upon  her  sit 
(As  garments  should  do)  close  and  fit : 
A  well-cloth'd  soul,  that's  not  opprest 
Nor  choakt  with  what  she  should  be  drest? 
Whose  soul's  sheathed  in  a  crystal  shrine. 
Through  which  all  her  bright  features  shine. 
As  when  a  piece  of  wanton  lawn, 
A  thin  aerial  vail  is  dra'wri. 
Ore  Beauties  face ;  seeming  to  hide. 
More  sweetly  shows  ihe  blushing. bride? 
A  soul,  whose  intellectual  beams 
No  mists  do  mask,  no  lazy  steams  ? 
A  happy  soul,  that  all  the  way 
To  heav'n  rides  in  a  summer's  day  ? 
Would'st  see  a  man  whose  well-warm'd  blood 
Bathes  him  in  a  genuine  flood  : 
A  man,  whose  tuned  humours  be 
A  set  of  rarest  harmony  ? 
Wouldst  see  blithe  looks,  fresh  cheeks  beguile 
Age  ?  wouldst  see  December  smile  ? 
Wouldst  see  a  nest  of  roses  grow 
In  a  bed  of  reveretid  snow  ? 
AVarm  thoughts,  free  spirits,  flattering 
Winters  self  into  a  spring? 
In  sum,  wouldst  see  *  a  man  that  can 
Live  to  be  old,  and  still  a  man ; 
Whose  latest  and  most  leaden  hours 
Fall  with  soft  wings,  stuck  with  soft  flowres  ; 
And  when  life's  sweet  fable  ends, 
-His  soul  and  body  part  like  friends  : 
No  quarrels,  murmures,  no  delay; 
A  kiss,  a  sigh,  and  so  away  ? 
This  rare  one.  Reader,  wouldst  thou  see  ? 
Heark  hither,  and  thyself  be  he. 

R.  Crashaw." 

F.  G.  Waldkon. 
32,  King-street,  Bloomshury-square. 

*  In  sum,  wouldst  see,  &c.  The  word  sum  was  printed,  I 
believe,  sume  or  sums ;  but  has  been  corrected  to  sum  with  a  pen  : 
the  comma  after  sum,  was  inserted  by  me  :  the  rest  is  literatim  et 
punctuatira. 

Elegies 


57^      ^ 

5[  Elegies  celehraling  the  happy  memory  of  Sr  Tioralio 
Fere,  *  Baro7i  of  Tilbury,  Colonell  Gener^ll  of  the 
English  in  the  United  Provinces  and  Mr.  of  the 
Ordnance  in  England,  &c.  London:  Printed  by 
T.  Badger,  for  Christopher  Meredith,  at  the  Crane  in 
PauVs  Church-yard.  16^2.  Sm.  8vo. 

The  elegiac  poetasters  who  have  blended  their  pens  in 
this  tribute  to  Sir  H.  Vere,  are 

E.  S.  Richard  Godfrey, 

Richard- West.  John  Borough.   ■ 

H.  R.  Tho.  Isham. 

H.  Benet.  f  Wil.  Snow. 

Richard  Painter.  Tho.  Severne.  t 

Hen.  Harris.  M.  Llewellin. 

J.  Goad.  Edm.  Borlasse.  § 

Rich.  Geale.  Samuel  Everard; 

Francis  Palmer.  W.  Towers. 

John  Godfrey. 
This  little  volume,  which  is  dedicated  to  the  relict  of 
the  deceased  Knight,  extends  to  seventy-six  pages.  Of 
the  poetry  which  it  contains,  the  greater  part  appears  to 
be  far  below  mediocrity  ;  and  few/  specimens  could  be 
extracted  possessing  much  more  interest  even  than  the 
following;  which  has  been  made  choice  of,-  more  from 
our  possessing  a  slight  knowledge  of  the  author,  than 
Trom  any  peciiliar  merit  appertaining  to  his  production. 

"  On  the  death  of  Sir  Horatio  Feere,  Baron  of  Tilbury. 

"  Our  eyes  subm't,  tearesltke  thy  captives  bow  j 
Thy  force  orecame  before,  thy  ruine  now 

,■»  Vide  the  Biog.  Diet.  Granger's  Biog.  Hist.  &c.  &c.    Three 
original  letters  of  Sir  H.  Vere  are  preserved  in  Had.  MS.  1581. 

-)-"Qj^ery  ?  The  same  who  was  afterwards  Earl  of  Arlington. 

\  A  Tho.  Severne,  A.  M.  was  tutor  at  Christ-Church  College, 
Oxford,  about  this  time.     Vide  Athen.  Oxon.  II.  3J0. 

§  Qu.?  May  this  be  Dr.  Ertmund  Borlase,  authorof  the  History 
of  the  execnble  Irish  Rebellionj  &c. 

Thuii 


Thus  old  expiring  oakes  crush,  and  create 
Fame  from  their  fall,  and  triumph  from  their  fate. 
The  courage  was  not  choler  heere;  the  flame,, 
Not  from  complexion,  but  from  vertue  came: 
Valour's  not  borne  of  nature,  but  the  will ; 
They  only  conquer  that  with  judgment  kill. 
The  fire  subdues  the  ayre,  yet  his  proud  rayes 
Still  without  trophies  win  still  without  bayes. 
The  mind,  not  the  tough  flesh,  was  his  defence; 
He  lost  the  feare  of  wounds,  but  not  the  sense ; 
That  were  t'  have  been  some  engine,  and  a  stroak 
Had  prov'd  him  a  burst  javeline,  or  sword  broak; 
His  scarrs  had  then  been  cracks,  and  every  blow 
Had  hurt  the  weapon;  statues  conquer  so. 
No  such  resistance  here,  the  veines  were  known. 
Noble,  and  cleare  as  saphires,  yet  not;  stone. 
.  The  wars  were  not  his  plot,  be  did  not  e,at 
By  the  sword  and  wounds,  and  skirmish  for  his  meat. 
He  could  be  stout  in  peace,  and  the  same  ray 
Threw  lightning  in  the  field,  in  the  court  day. 
Eagles  are  eagles  thougli  no  foe  appeare ; 
Good  perfumes,  though  uncbaf'd,  sweet  incense  reafe  ; 
No  conquest  made  him  swell,  an  equall  brow 
Sustain  d  the  lawrel,  and  the  cypresse  bough 
The  same  calme  view'd  retreates  and  victories. 
One  compos'd  sense  heard  shputes,  and  el^ies. 

"  Weake  spirits  count  their  going. back  a  doome, 
And  if  they  but  retire,  are  straight  6recome: 
Those  jewels  cast  a  faint  and  drowsy  light. 
Which  cause  they  are  once  sullied,  are  lesse  bright: 
The  current  stopt,  grew  greater  here,  and  he 
That  did  retyre  a  streamc,  return'd  a  sea. 
Norudenesse  made  the  publick  shares  more  thin, 
Spoiles  were  his  purchase  only,  ne're  his. sin  ;    v;- 
No  rich  foe  niade  him  glad;  no  needy,  pause  ; 
He  fought  not  'gainst  the  booty,  but  the  cause,; 
He  punish't  cities,  pass'd  np  village  by. 
The  just  heat  scorcht  the?  phoenix  with  the  fly: 
And -having  now  subdude  the  Spanish  pride. 
He  saw  no  foe  could  kill  him,  and  so  dy'd. 

_. ^  M.  Lewellin," 

Of  this  author  some  notices  may  be  derived  from 
Wood>  Athen'.  Oxon.  IT.  700.=*  J.  J.  P. 

*  The  above  elegy  may  be  ||ound'in  Men-Mirades  •mith  ather 
foemes,  by  the  same  author,  where  it  is  'entitled  "  second  edition," 
inA  has  several  variations. 

VOL.   II.  P   » 


578 


%  The  Start/  of  King  Lear  from  Caxton's  Ckronide, 
J  480. 

TO    THE    EDITOR    OF    THE    BBITISH    BIBLIOGRAPHER. 


As  the  commentators  upon  Shakspeare  have  not 
printed  any  text  of  the  story  of  King  Lear  of  a  more 
ancient  date  than  that  of  Holinshed's  impression,  and  as 
Mr.  Burnett,  in  his  Specimens  of  Early  English  Prose 
Writers,  has  contented  himself  with  the  antiquity  of 
Fabian's  text,  it  may  probably  gratify  some  of  your 
curious  readers  if  I  subjoii^  the  most  ancient  printed 
text  of  it  in  existence;  wiiii  variations  from  another 
ttxt  of  nearly  equal  antiquity.  In  the  following  pages, 
therefore,  will  be  found  a  faithful  imprint  of  it  from 
Caxton's  Chronicle,  pf  1480;  compared  with  the 
text  of  the  same  printed  at  St.  Albans;  from  a  copy 
of  each  impression  in  the  hbrary  of  Earl  Spencer, 

"  Of  kyng  Leir'^   and  of  the  ansuere  of  his  yongesf 
doughter  that  graciously  was  maried  to  the  Kyng  of 
fraunce.     Ca.  XII.\ 

"  After  this  "^  kyng  Bladiid  regned  Leir  his  sone  and  this 
Tjeir  made  the  touiie  of  leycestre  and  lei  calle  the  tounc  after 
Jiii  name  at»d  he  -gouerned  the  toune  well  and  ncsbely  This 
kyng  Leir  had  iij.  dooghters  the  fyrst  was  called  Gonoiill  the 
seco"-d  Higan  and  the  thridde  Gordeill  and  the  yongest  doughtcr 
was  fairest  and  best  of  condicions  The  kynghir  fadre  became 
an  olde.  rnan  and  wold  that  his  doughtres  were  maried  er  that 
he  (leide,  but  first  he  thought  to  assay  whiche  of  hem  louqd 
hym  most  and-  best,  for 'she  that  loued  hym  best  shold  best 
bene  maried  and  he  axed  of  the  fyrste  doughter  how  moche  "= 
«he  hym  loited  and  she  ansuerd  and  said  better  than  hir  owne 


Variations  in  the  St.  Alean's  edition. 

"  '  Son  to  Bl.idiid.'  '>  <  this'  omitted.  «   '  well.' 

«'  p  her'-^-vvhich  usually  precedes  'fathci'  instead  of  '  ihe.'] 

'lyfc. 


579 

lyfe,  Nowe  certes  quod  ihe ''  fadi:e  that  is  a  grete  Ipue  Tho ' 
Etxed  he  of  the  second  doughter  hbw  moche  she  hiin  loued  and 
she  said  more  and  passyng  all  the  creatures  off  the  worlde  [ar] 
ma  foy  q''  the  fadre  I  may  no  more  axe  And  tho  axed  he  of  the 
thridde  doughter  how  moche  she  hyra  loued  certes  fadr*  quod 
she  my  sustres  haue  tolde  yow  glosing  wordes,  but  forsoth  I 
shall  s  lelle  trouth,  for  1  loue  yow  as  moch ''  as  I  ought  to 
Joue  my  fadre  and  for  to  bring  yow  more  in  certain  how  1  loue 
yow  I  shall  yow  telle  as  moche  as  ye  benq  worth  so  moche 
shall  ye  be  loued  The  kyng  liir  fadre  weilte  that  slie  had 
scorned  hym  and  become  wonder  wroth  and  swore  by  heuen 
and  erth  she  sholde  heuer  hane  •  good  of  hym  but  his  dough- 
tres  that  loued  hym  so  moche  sholde  bene  well  auaunted  and 
marled  And  the  first  doughter  he  marled  to  Maugles  kyng  of 
.  Scotland,  and  the  second  he  maried  to  hanemos  Erie  of  Corne- 
waille  and  so  they  ordeyned  and  spake  bitvveue  hem  that  they 
sholde  departe  the  Reame  bitwene  hem  two  after  the  deth  oF 
kyng  Leir  hir '  fadre  so  that  Cordeill  his  yongest  doughter 
snold  no  thj'ng  haue  of  his  land,  but  this.  Cordeil}  was  wonder 
faire  and  ot  so  •*  good  condicions  and  f  maners  that  the  kyng 
of  fraunce  Agarape  herde  of  Hir  speke  and  sente  to. the  kyng 
leir  hir  fadre  for  to  haue  hir  vn  to  his  wyfe  and  praied  hym 
therof  and  kyng  Leir  hir  fadre  sent  hym  word  that  he  had  de- 
parted The'  londe™  vnto  his  two  doughtres  "  and"  said  he 
had  no  more  lande  wher  with  hir  to  marien. 

"  And  whan  A.ga"pe  herde  this  ansuer  he  sente  anone  ayene 
to  leir  and  said  that  he  axed  no  thyng  with  hir  but  onely  hir 
clothyng  and  hir  boby  J  And  anone  kyng  kir  sent  hir.ouer 
the  ste  to  the  kyng  of,  fraunce  And  he  resseyued  hir  with 
moche  wurshipp  and  with  moche  p  solcmpnite  hir  spoused  and 
made. hir  quene  of  frannce.  § 

•  Erroneously  printed  for  '  haue.' 

-f-  The  '  and'  is  turned  upside  dOwn.  J  For  '  body.' 

§  For  '  fraunce.' 


Variations  in  the  St.  Alban's  edition. 
«  '  tho.'         '  in.'         B   '  you'  inserted.         *'  '  tnoch'oriiitted. 

'  •  their.'  ''  '  so'  omitted.  '  '  his  land. 

»  '  and  yeffen  it  all.'  "  '  beforsaied.'  «  '  he.' 

?  '  rao;he'  omitted. 

"      I>   p   2  Howe 


s8o 

!'  Howe  kyjig  leir  was  driuen  out  of  his  land  thurgh 
.   his  fbUei  and  howe  Cordeil  his  yongest*  daughter 
helpe  hym  in  his  nede.     Capitulo  xiij. 

"  Thus  it  fel  ■"  aftefward  that  tho  ij.  eldest  doughtren  wolde 

Uat  abide  till  leir  hir  fadie  was  dede  but  werred  vpon  hyiii 

^rhiles  that  he  leu'ed  =  and  tnoche  sorwe  f  and  shame  hym' 

did  wfier  for  they  bfeno'men  hytn  holy  the  roialme  and  bi- 

twene  hem  had  ordeyned  that  one  of  hem  shold  hauekyng  leiir 

to  soiourne  all  his  lyfe  tyme  with  xl.  kughtes  J  and  squyuers 

that  he  myght  wurshipfuliy  gone  and  ride  whidder  that  he 

Wolde  in  to  what  contre  that  hym  liked  to  pley  and  to  solace. 

So  that  Managles  kyng  of  Scotland  had  kyng  leir  with  hym 

in  the  marier  as  is  aboue  said  and  or  othir  half  ye"re  wer  passed 

Corneill  that  was  his  eldest  doughlcr  and  quene  of  Scotland 

was  so  a~noied  of  hym  and  of  his  peple  that  anone  she  and  hir 

lorde  spake  to  gedre ' wherfor  his  knyghtes  half  and  his  squyers 

from  hym  were  gone  and  no  mo  left "  but  only  xxx.  and  when 

ttis  was  done  leir  h\gzn  for  to  make  moche  sorwe  foreocheson 

that  his  estate  was  empeired.    And  men  had  of  hym  more 

■scorne  ^nd  despite  then  euer  they  bad  bifor  wherfor  he  riist  "^ 

what  for  to  done  and   at   the  last  thought  that  he  wolde, 

wende  in  to  Cornewaill  to  Rigan  his  othir  donghter    And^ 

when   he  was  come  the  Erie  and  his  wif  that  was  leires- 

"dbughterhym  welcbnied  and  with  hym  made  moche  Joye  and 

ther  he  duelled  with  xxx.  knyshtes  and  squyers     And  he  had 

npu^ht  duelled  ther  scarsely  tuelfmonth  that  his  doughter  of 

hym  was  full  y  and  of  bis  ^  co"panie  and  hir  lorde  and  5he  of 

hjm  bad*  scorne  and  despite,  so  that  from  xxx.  knyghtes  they 

broughten  vnto  x.  and  afterward''  v.  and  so  ther'-  left  with 

hym  no  mo.     Tho  made  he  sorwe  y  nowh  aud  §  said  sore 

wepyng  Alias  that  euer  he  come  in  to  that  londe  and  said  yit 

had  me  better  to  haue  duelled  with  my  fyrst  doughter    And 

aDon~  wme^  theniies  to  his  fyrst  doughter '     But  anone  as 

*  For  'yongest.'/-  f  for  '  sorrowe.' 

\  f<iT  '  knyghtes.'  §  for  '  and.' 

VAkiATiONS  in  the  St.  Alban's  edition. 

1  '  folke.'  '  '  befell.'  ^^  '  was  on  Hue.' 

'  '  did  hym,"  is  placed  before  '  modi  sorow,  iec' 

"  '  vvt  liim,'  ^  '  not  wist." 

y  '  weri.'  [CaxtOii's  must  be  wrong.]  ^  '  of." 

"  '  great'  inserted.'  ^  '  had  he  but'  inserted. 

'  they  left  hym.'         *  Ue  went.'         «  '  again'  inserted. 

sbe. 


58i 

she  saw  hyna  come  she  swore  by  god  and  *■  his  holy  names  and 
by  as  moche  as  she  myght  that  hd  shojfJ  haue  no  mo  with  hym 
but  one  knyght  yf  he  wolde  ther  abide  Tho  bigan  leir  ayen  s 
weepe  and  made  moche  sorwe  and  said  tho  alias  nowe  to  long 
haue  I  lyuet  that  this  sorwe  and  mesdiief  is  to  me  nowe  f^Ue 
For  nawe  am  I  porer '•  that  some  tyme  was  riche,  but  nowe 
haue  I  no  frende  ne  kyn  that  m,e  wull  do  any  good.  .But  when 
I  was  riche  all  men  me  honoured  and  wurshipped.  and  nowe 
euery  man  hath  of  me  sconie  and  despite,  and  nowe  I  wote 
well  that  Cordeill  my  yougeste  doughtesr  said  me  trbugth  wheii 
she  said  as  moche  as  I  had  so  nioche  shold  1  bene  belouedand 
alle  the  while  that  I  had  good  tho '  was  I  beloued  and  honoured 
for  my  ricchesse  but  my  two  doughtres  glosed-  me  tho  and 
nowe  of  me  they  sette  litell  pris  and  soth  tolde  me  Cordeill 
but  Iwolde  nat  beleu,e  it  ne  understond  and  therfore  Ilet  hir 
gone  fro  me  as  a  thing  that  I  sette  litell  pris.  of,  and^nowe  wote 
I  neuer  what  for  to  done  sith  my  ij  doughtres  haue  me  thus 
disceyued  that  I  so  moche  loued,  and  nowe  mot  1  nedes  sechen 
bit  that  is  in  an  olhir  laud  that  lightely  I  let  hir  gone  fro  me 
withoute  any  rewarde  or  yiftes  and  she  said  that  she  loued  me 
as  moche  as  she  ought  to  loue  hir  fadre  by  all  maner  of  reson 
and  tho  I  sholde  haue  axed  of'  hir  nogmore,  and  tho  that 
me  othirwise  behighten  thurgh  hir  f^lsfpe.clie  nowe  haue  me 
disceyued.  In  this  maner  Leir  long  tynie  began  to  make  his 
raone  and  at  the  last  he  shopie  hym ,  to  the  see  and  passed  ouer 
in  to  fraunce  and  asked  and  aspied  wher  the  Qnene*  myght 
be  founden,  and  men  tolde  hym  whe^re  she'was  And  whan  he 
come  to  the  Cite  that  she  was  in,'  pyeuelich  he  sent  his  squjjer 
vnto  the  quene  to  telle  hir  that  hir/adre  was  comen  to  hir  for 
grete  nedes  And  when  the  squyer,come  to  the  queue  he  tolde 
hir  euery  dele  of  hir  sustres  from  the  begynnyng  vnto  the  ende 
Cordeill  the  quene  anone  toke  gold  and  siluer  plente  and  toke 
it  to  the  squyer  in  counceille  that  he  shold  gone&  here  it  vn 
to  hir  fadre  and  that  he  shold  go  in  to  a  certain  Cite  and 
hym  araien  later, '  and  wasshen  and  than  come-  ayene  to  hir 
3nd  bring  with  hym  an  honest  companye  of  Icnyghtes  xl.  atte™ 

*  for  '  Quene.* 


Variations  in  the  St.  Alban's  edition. 

f  <  by'  inserted.  b  '  to'  inserted.  ''  '  poor.' 

'  so  long  was  I  loued.'        '^  '  of  omitted.        ^  '  laten'  omitted. 

"1  '  the'  inserted. 

P  P  3  kyng 


583 

lest  with  her  meyne,  and  than  he  sbold  setide  to  hir  lofd  the 

kytig  and  sayne  that  hg  were  comen  for  to  spekc  with  his 

doiighter  and  hym  for  to  seen,  and  so  he  did     And  whan  the 

kyng  and  the  quefle  herde  that  they  comen  with  mochel  honour' 

they  hym  resseyned  And  the  kyiig  of  fraunce  tho  let  sende 

thargh  alle  his  Reame  and  commaunded  that  all  men  sholdc 

to  hyW  bene  entendatvt  to  kyng  Leir  the  Quenes  fadre  in  all 

miner  of  ihyng,  as  it  were  to  hym  selfe  when  kyng  Leir  had 

duelled  ther  a  ^oneth  and  more  he  toldfe  to  the  kyng  &  ti> 

the  Quene  his  doiighter,  how  his  two  eldest  doughtres  had 

hym  serued.     Agampe  anone 'let  ordeyne  a   grate  host  of 

fraunce°  and  sent  it  in  to  Britaigne  with  leir  the  quenes  fadre 

for  to  conquer  his  land  ayene  and  his  kyngdom,  and  Corde'iil 

also  come  with  hir  fadre  in  to  britaigue  •  for  to  haue  the 

Eoyame  after  hir  fadres  deth    And.anone  they  went  to  shipp 

and  passed  the  see  and  come  in  to  britaigue  and  foughten  with 

the/t&zwp  &  hem  sGomfited  and  queldi  And  the  had  he  bis 

land  ayen  and  after  leued  iii.  yera  and  helde  his  royalme  in 

pees  and  after  ward  died  and  Cordeill  his  doughter  hjm  let 

entie'r  with  mikel  honour  at  leicestre. 

sign  fs.  viii.      .  I-  i. 

I  remain.  Sir, 

Your  obedient  iiumble  servant, 

T.  F.  DiBUiN. 

Kensington,  Nov.  13,  1811. 


T^  A  little  Dictionane  for  Children  [running  title.  On 
last  page  't^'ood-jclit  of  Lucreece,  three  quarters  length 
and  tablet  with  "  Ihomas  Pvrfoote."  Col.]  Im- 
printed at  London  by  Thomas  Pnrfoole,  and  are  to 

*  for  '.  britaigne.' 

Variations  in  the  St.  Alban's  edition. 

"  '  bene  a)s.'  "  '  frannce  men.' 

P  '  fulous'— -probably  for  '  felons.'    '  '  1  <  kylled.' • 

Sign.  d.  i^jij. 

be. 


he  solde  at  his  shop  without  Newgate,  ouer  againste 
Saincl  Sepulchers  Churche  1586,.  * 

The  very  impeVfect  copy  before  me,  might,  by  ihe 
evidence  of  its  present  slate,  have  been  once  possessed 
by  the  carelesS-'['yro  of  a  fourth  or  fifth  form ;  and  the 
work  being  principally  intended,  according  to  the  run- 
ning title,  for  children,  it  will  not  appear  extraordinary 
that  from  the  general  destruciion  of  the  schools  a  whole 
edition  should  become  sufficiently  scarce  to  escape  the 
notice  of  modern  bibliographers.  It  is  a  vocabulory  of 
English  words  with  their  meaning  in  Latin,  and  illustra- 
tive sentences  in  Latin,  translated  intoEnglish.  It  forms  a 
lafge sized  octavo  volume,  printed  in  double  columns,  with 
the  sheets  folded  in  eights,  at^extending  to  the  letter  F. 
The  subjects  are  various,  an^^iven  with  their  collaterals 
and  affinities  :  such  as  *'  of  birdes,  and  first  of  the  partes 
of  a  birdej"  "the  Seia  with  that  which' belongeth  to 
It:"  "  Heardsmen,  haywerdes,  shepheards,  with  suchc 
other  as  kcepe'cattell,"  &c,  and  a  short  alphabet  forms 
the  conclusion.  A  single  article  will  shew  the  system 
of  arrangemeiit,  and  the  following  invites  selection  frbry 
its  apparent  origiii   of  one  of  the  popular  passages  ia 


*  This  work  was  printed  by  De  Worde,  without  date;  of 
which  Mr.  Dibdin  observes  •'  1  never  heard  of  the  existence  of  a 
copy."  Typographical  Antiquities,  iSiz,  Vol.  II.  p.  jif.  Again  by 
Wykes,  1568  ;  by  Piirfoot,  1571, 1594,  1 599  ;  if  not  oftener.  The 
above  edition  is  not  mentioned  by  Herbert,  in  its  progress  through 
the  press,  it  uai  gradually  enlarged  and  improved  by  some  of  the 
first  scholars  of  that  period, as  is  shewn  byasubsequent  title,  witk 
a  copy  of  which  I  have  just  been  obliged  by  an  eminent  literary 
f  hafacttr.  A  Dictionarie  ia  English  &  Latine  dfuisedfor  the  iapcfci^ 
of  children,  and  young  Beginner!.  At  first  set  foorth  by  M..  Wiihals, 
ivith  Thrases  both  Rhytmical  and  Prouerhial:  Recognised  by  Dr 
Euans  ;  after  hy  Abr.lleming:  and  then  by  William  Clerk.  Andnino 
at  this  last  Impression  enlarged  luith  an  encrease  of  Words,  Sentences, 
Phrases,  Epigrams,  Histmes,  Poeticall  Fictions,  and  Atphabeticall pro- 
•uerhs  ;  luith  a  compendious  Namenelator  aietvly  added  at  the  end,.  AH 
composed  for  the  ease,  profit,  £f  delight  of  those,  that  desire  Instruction, 
&  the  better  perfection  of  the  Latine  tengne.  Initio  facillima,  et  optima 
sunt  disceftda.  B.  R.  Printed  at  London  hy  Thomas  Purfoot,  16,16. 

p  p  4  Shakspewe 


584 

Shakspeare.  Had  the  Irelands  met  with  a  copy,  what 
apostrophical  gibberish  would  have  been  scrawled  over 
the  margin  of  the  leaves,  to  prove  the  identity  of  refe- 
rence and  uphold  their  mercenary 'peculations  ! ! ! 

"  The  place  where  maisfries  and  play es  he  shewed, 

"  A  Theatre,  Theatrum,  tri,  n.  g. 

-vita  kesc  est  falula  qucrdam,  Sccna  autem  muvdus 


versatilis,  histrio,  (3'  actor  quilibet  est  hominum.  This  lyfe  is 
a  ceftaine  enterlude  or  playe,  the  world  is  a  stage  full  of 
change  euery  way,  eucrye  roan  is  a  player,  and  therein  a 
dealer.  *  . 

■spissis  indigna  theatris  scripta  pudet  recitare,   isf 

nugis  addere  pondus.  I  am  ashamed  to  rehearse  their  wry- 
tynges  vnworthie  of  full  Theatres,  that  is  greate  audience  of 
people,  and  to  make  their  toyes  weightye. 

A  player.  Actor,  ioris  vel.  ludio,  onis. 

A  tenis  play,  Spharisterium. 

He  that  beboldeth  or  looketh  vppon  the  players.  Spectator, 
toris. 

A  sworde  player.  Gladiator,  toris. 

Ecce  theatralem  ingressus  gladiator  arenam.  Lo,  beholde 
the  sworde-player  is  entred  the  Theatre  to  play  his  prise. 

Halfe  a  Theatre,  also  Heauen,  Amphitheatrum,  amphitkeo' 
tri,  n.  g. 

Omnipoteiis  ille  astriferifaler  amphitheatri.  That  same  al- 
niightye  maker  ophe  starrye  halfe  theatre,  that  is,  the  heauen 
and  theiS^e.  ^/^^ 

The  arte  of  fyghting  with  a  sworde,  Gladiatura. 

A  mayster  offence,  Lanista. 
I    Certamen  suum  egit  summa  cu  laude  lanista.    The  fence 
mayster  hath  played  his  price  with  great  prayse. 

A  stage  or  scaffolde  to  stande  vpon  to  see  the  players. 
Podium,  scena,  nte. 

To  set  vp  a  scaiFolde,  Stuere  scenam." 

*  "  All  the  world's  a  stage. 
And  all  tlie  men  and  wometi  merely. players  : 
Tliey  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances ; 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts." 
As  you  Like  it,  Vol.  VIII.  p.  71,  edition  1803,  in  ai  vols. 
"  Therein  a  dealer,"  and  "  plays  many  parts,*'  forms  a  con- 
tinued similarity  beyond  the  passages  quoted  by  the  commenta- 
tors.. •  10-1/ 

The 


5^5 

The  follovving  selection  may  amuse  those  curious  to 
elucidate  the  text  of  Shakspeare. 

"  The  ousel-cock,  so  black  of  hne^ 
With  orange-tawney  bill. — 

Midsummer's  Night  Dreamj  Vol.  IV.  p.  Sgg,^ 

An  owsill  called  a  blacke  birde,  Merula,  la.* 


This  guest  of  summer 
The^temple-haunting  martlet. 

Macbeth,  Vol.  X.  p.  73. 

Corrected  by  Rowe  from  barlet,  but  qu.  a  press  error  from 
marlet,  and  the  necessary  correction  only  a  single  letter:  viz. 

A  marlette  wbiche  is  of  the  quantity  of  a  swallow,  hauing 
no  feete  to  goe,  but  only  lumpes.     Cypsehis,  i. 


Your  hrottches,  pearls,  and  ewches; — 

Hen.  IV.  Part  ii.  Vol.  XII.  p.  80. 

An  ouche,  or  brooche,  manila,  lis.  n.g. 
Splendida  ftemineo  pretiosa  monilia  collo.     Bright  &  costly 
owcbes  for  a  woman's  necke. 


—that  which  you, have  pUl'd  from  me. 

Richard  ,JII.  Vol.  XIV.  p.  303. 

Cattsidicus,  efeio,  Jisco,  fas  viuere  rapto. 
It's  lawful  for  lawyers,  th'  exchequer,  and  hell. 
By  polling  and  pilling  to  Hue  yerye  -welli 


these  bastard  Bretagnes,  whom  our  fathers . 

Have  in  their  own  land  beaten,  hobb'd  and  thump' d. 

Richard  III.  Vol.  XIV.  p.  51C). 

J'roditor  illudit  verlis,  dum  verleta  cudit. 

A  traitorby  words  doth  flatter  and  glose. 

Whiles  he  is  demsing  of  thumps,  bobs,  and  blowes. 


to  shoe 

A  troop  of  horse  with  felt. 

Lear,  Vol.  XVII.  p.  550. 

*  The  same  word  is  used  by  Ford  in  the  Lo'ver's  Melancholy. 
See  Vol.  I.  p.  14.9,  ed.iiij.  It  is  explained  in  yi  Letter  to  Richard 
Heber,  Esq.  containing  some  obser'vations  on  the  mexits  of  Mr.  Weber''s 
late  edition  of  Ford's  Dramatick  Works,  18 12. 

High 


5f^ 

■  Higb  Bhooes  made  of  felt,  to  keepe  the  feete  and  leggeir 
warme,  moste  apte  for  studentes,  and  sitting  occupations. 
Sculponeee. 


Benvolia.  Take  thou  some  new  infection  tor.thy  eye. 

And  the  rank  poison  of  the  old  will  die.  ,   .^ 

Romeo.  Y oar  plaintain  leaf  is  excellent  for  that. 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  Vol.  XX.  p.  34. 

Plantagine  ie  recolligit  lufo  ah  aranea  in  cpvfliQtadunaiJa^ 
ictus,  euisq ;  veneno  tUmef actus.'  The  tode  being-smitten  of 
the  spyder  in  fighte,  and  made  to  swell  with  hir  pOyson,  re- 
couereth  himself*  with  planiaine.  ^ 

To  rujffle  in  the  commonwealth  of  Rome. 

Titus  Andronicus,  Vol.  XXL  p.  24. 
— —  nan  indigil  vllo  seruorum  sffepitu,  &  comitantum  mle 
cUentum.  He  hath  no  ruffling  route,  of  s'eruauntes,  nor  thrCke 
trairie  of  clyentes  following  his  tayle. 


— Diomed, 
Stand  fast,  and  wear  a  castle  on  thy  head! 

Trotlus  and  Cressida,  Vol.  XV.  p.  4'\7. 

— the  bloody  battle-axe,- 
■'  Writing  destruction  onthe  enemy's  cast/e? 

Tilus  Andronicus,  Vol.  XXI.  p.  71. 

■        captisq  ;   norrKj  j   aree   suprema  mens   halitarei   solioq ; 

sedet  regaliter-  alto. 

For  in  the  castle  and  tower,  of  the  head> 
The  mind  of  her  house  &  dwelling  is  sped, 
.   And  sitteth  a  lofte  on  seate  of  estate. 
In  roost  royall  manner  earely  and' late."' 

THis  seetns  as  illustrative  of  the  text  as  any  thing 
yet  adduced,  though  the  passages  little  require  the  string 
of  annotations  they  ha/e  met  with.  * 

J.  H. 

*  Nanny,  nony.  This  Shaksperian  term  served  to  convey  more 
than  meets  the  eye,  and  is  so  used  in  explaining  the  word  FossA 
in  FltriaU  Italian  DiclKjiary,  i6ii  ;  but  does  not  occur  in  the 
fariier  edition. 

The 


587 

^  The  Historie  of  John  Lorde  Mandozze. 
\  [concluded  from  p.  532.] 

Disappointed  of  his  cherished  hopes,  the  County's 
passion  now  turns  into, hate.  Disdaining  his  rejection, 
and  fearful  of  his  Lord's  wrath,  he  resolves  to  work  the 
ruin  of  our  heroine.  Having  no  children,  he  had  adopted 
his  nephew,  a  youth -of  nineteen :  him  he  promises,  to 
make  his  heir,  If  he  will  in  ^11  things  follow  his  will ; 
and  represents  to  him,  how,  in  the  absence  of  "  the  old, 
unlusty  Dute,"  he  might  win  the  favour  of  the  lady, 
with  the  chance,  if  the  Duke  should  die,  of  making  her 
his  wife,  and  thus  paying  the  way  to  hjs  own  advance 
meiit.  Persuading  the  youth,  that  he  js  already  reg^irded 
witli  a  gracious  eye,  the  designing  County  incites  him 
to  pay  his  court  to  the  Duchess  by  assiduous  atten- 
tion. 

■■'  This  simple  youthe  beleves 

his  oncles  wr^tche^  wyles. 
The  craftye  fowler's  pype  full  sone 

the  selyfe  byr4e  beguyles  j 
He  thinke,;  that  all  Is  gpuW 

that  giystreth  to  the  eye^ 
The  tutcstone  of  experyence 

he  wantes  the  same  to  trye." 

The  Duchess,  imputing  his  attentions  to  diligence  in 
her  service,  prefers  him  above  the  other  pages.  This  es-. 
capes  not  the  notice  of  the  watchful  Pancalir,  who  in-, 
sinuates  to  the  youth,  that  nothing  but  a  little  boldness 
was  necessary  to  the  completioia  of  his  purpose ;  and  di- 
rects him  to  secret? ■  himself  under  the  bed  of  the 
Puchess — 

"  Tyll  after  tnydnight  past  an  howre 

at  least  still  tp  abyde. 
And  when  she  dqthe  begyn 

in  depest  slfeape  to  fall : 
From  underneath  the  bed^ 

aryse  furthwith  you.  shall : 
And  bravely  commynge  to 

hfr  bed,  yau  shall  declare 

Thw; 


SS8 

That  love  dyd  cause  your  comminge  thearc, 

&  tell  her  who  you  are. 
So  be  you  sure  of  thys, 

what  for  her  fervent  love 
And  absence  of  the  Duke  so  longe; 

both  these  lykewyse  wyll  move 
Her,  then  in  foulded  arraes 

most  lovynglj'e  tembrace 
The  sone,  &  chear  thy  hart  with  joyes 

of  lover's  sweete  solace." 

The  treacherous  County,  having  now  obtained  his 
object,  at  midnight  calls  three  of  the  council,  and  at- 
tended by  the  guard,  furiously  rushes  into  the  lady's 
chamber;  and  searching  every  place,  drags  out  his 
trembling  nephew  from  underneath  the  bed,  and  dis- 
patches him,  before  he  has  power  to  say  a  word'.  Then 
putting  his  bloody  sword  into  its  sheath,  he  addresses 
himself  to  the  wondering  counsellors: 

"■  My  frendes  (sayth  he)  this  same 

was  not  fyrste  tyme,  that  I 
The  wanton  &  unhonest  love 

betwene  them  dyd  espye. 
But  now  at  last,  I  found 

a  tyme  the  truth  to  trye ; 
But  yet  this  glOtbn  heare,  I  made 

to  fay  re  a  death  to  dye. 
For  his  desert  requyres 

by  rygour  of  the  lawe ; 
That  horses  wyld,  in  quarters  shold, 

his  traytrous  bodye  drawe. 
As  for  my  Ladye  heare, 

the  Duchesse,  at  this  tyme 
I  leave;  I  can  no  punyshment 

delermyne  for  her  cryme. 
You  know  the  customes  ould 

of  Savoye,  do  requyre  j 
That  Ladyes  of  adulterye 

convicted,  should  in  fyre 
Be  burned  quycJke,  if  they 

within  a  yeare  and  daye, 
Fynd  not  a  chatiipton,  which 

in  theyr  belialfe  will  fyght 
Thecorabate:  by  his  force  in  feyld 

for  to  defend  their  ryght. 

But 


5^9 

But  .for  the  allegy.ance  of 

my  dutye,  which  I  owe 
Unto  my  Lorde  the  Duke,  I  wyll, 

by  letters  let  him  knowe 
Hearebf.    And  so  the  while 

the  Duchess  shall  remayne 
Within  her  chaumbpr  close,  &  have 

with  her  one  mayde  or  twayne." 

The  Duchess,  amid  her  anguish  and  amazement, 
casting  her  eyes  on  the  unfortunate  page's  bloody  corpse, 
laments~his  undeserved  fate,  and  entreats  the  attendants 
to  bestow  decent  burial.  Her  compassion  increases  their 
conviction  of  her  guilt.  Meantime  the  triumphant 
traitorMispatehes  two  couriers  to  the  Duke  her  husband, 
and  the  Kirig  of  England  her  brother,  who  are  led  to  give 
more  implicit  credit  to  the  report,  on  hearing  of  the 
summary  Vengeance  inflicted  by  the  County  upon  his 
adopted  kinsman.  The  Kings  of  England  and  France 
agree  that  the  Duchess  should  suffer  the  punishment  pre- 
scribed by  the  laws  of  her  country,  and  send  presents  to 
Pancalir,  in  compliment  to  his  fidelity.  The  Duke, 
after  some  pause,  accedes  to  their  verdict,  and  commands 
justice  to  be  straightly  executed. 

At  this  disastrous  period,  Emblin  again  comes  in  to 
the  aid  of  her  mistress; — by  her  advice  the  Duch«ss 
writes  secretly  to  Mandozze,  acquainting  him  with  her 
pitiable  case,  and  entreating  succour.  Sir  Appian,  the 
aforesaid  physician,  is  entrusted  with  the  momentous 
charge ;  and  the  caresses  of  Emblin  are  bestowed  with 
good  effect. 

"  He  trotteth  now  about 

his  busines,  by  and  by 
He  pratleth  to  hym  selfe  apace,' 

as  pleaseant  as  a  Pye. 
And  sondry  notes  he  tuneth  to 

the  name  of  Emelye."  ' 

But  on  his  arrival  he  finds  to  his  amazement  the  over- 
whelming'forces  ofTolledo  besieging  the  Lord  Mandozze, 
in  a  little  town  to  which  his  discomforted  followers  had 
fled...  Sir  Apppian  perceiving  guile  necessary,  presents 
himself  lo  a  captain  of  the  besieging  army,  to  fight  under 

his 


his  command ;  and  on  the  first  skirmish,  thriisting  into 
the  thickest  tray,  is  taken  prisoner,  and  thus  obtains  ac-" 
cess  to  the  besieged  Lord,  and  executes  his  mission. 
Mandozze,  whose  love  has  waxed  cool,  excuses  himself, 
by  the  periionsness  of  his  own  situation  :  and  dismisses 
the  messenger,  who  relurnj  to  Turin  with  the  doleful 
news.  ■   ^        _ 

The  sparks  of  affection  are,  however,  revived  in  the 
Spaniard's  braast,  by  reflecting  on  the  misery  of  the 
Ladv,  who  had  abandoned  all  in  hei'  prosperity  to  visit 
him'j  but  who  in  her  woe  he  had  thus  forsaken.'  Stiing 
with  this  imputation  upon  his  knightly  honour,  he  leaves 
the  besieged  town,  and  travellirig  alone,  with  "  horse 
and  harnesse,"  upon  his  arrival  at  Tutiri  enquires  if 
there  are  any  Spaniards  In  the  towii. 

"  And  so  he  heares 
But  of  one  olde  relygjous  man 

which  tbeaie  this  twenty  yeares 
Had  ben.     An  holie  mail 

and  eke  beloved  wel]. 
Of  all  the  cytezpns:  whych  tbeff 

witliont  the  towne  did  dwell 
Alone,  in  cottage  lowe, 

that  he  might  so  eschew, 
Ths  leva  &  iust  of  worldly  thinges, 

his  flejih  for  to  snbdew." 

To  this  recluse'  he  opens  the  purpose  of  his  coming^,- 
'  who  endeavours  to  dissuade  him  from  so  perilous  a  tria-1, 
as-  siiTgle  combat  with  the  Unconquerable  County.  But 
resolved  in  his  purpose,  if  he  can  be  iissured  of  the 
Lady's  innocence,  he  requests  the  hermit  to.  procure 
him  garments  such  as'his;  and  with  shaven  beard  and 
polled  head,  the  Prince  accompanies  his  reverend  com- 
panion to  the  castle  of  Turin,  where  they  announce 
themselves  as  come  to  comfort,  the  condemned  with 
ghostlv  exhortation.  •  '    ' 

.By  rhe  Duchess's  confession,  her  disguised  counsellor 
is  fully  convinced  of  the  iniquity  of  her  accuser  and  her 
own  perfect  innocence ;  and  his  visit  having  obtained  her 
much  comfort,  she  as  the  only  mark  of  thankfulness  in 
her  power,  presents  him  on  his  departure  with  a  diamond 
ting  given  by  her  brother  on  her  weddiiig-day. 

A  Knight 


591 

A  Kaight  in  complete  armoUr^ow  makei  his  entrance 
into  the  city,  anpl  loudly  chaileiiges  the  County  Pancalier 
to  maintain  his  iinjust  accusation.  The  citizens  flock  to 
the  churches,  to  implore  the  champion's  success,  who 
takes  his  stand  against  the  marble  pillar  whereon  the  ac- 
cusation is  written. 

This  unexpected  interposition  terrifies  the  guilty  ac- 
cuser, who,  seeking  delays,  sends  to  require  the  Knight's 
name: 

"  To  whom  Mandozze  stoutly  sayth, 
he  shall  =riOt  knowe  the  same. 
But  sure  for  all  the  rest, 

what  power  in  hym  doth  lye. 
He  shall' it  know  &  feele  forthwith 
if  then  he  lyste  to  trye." 
The  judges  confirm  the  champion's  right  to  withhold 
his  name: 

"  A.nd  further  in  the  case 

the  lawyers  all  do  saye; 
How  that  thaccused  partye  ought 

to  see  the  fyght  alwaye : 
And  reason  yeldc,  not  for 

because  theyr  bookes  so  be, : 
But  m.fapprem  viue  was   , 

the  cause  of  that  decree.'' 

The  County  must  now  of  necessity  meet  the  cham- 
pion in  arms;  so  rousing  his  staggered  courage  he  comes, 
and  finds  his  antagsnist  arrayed  in  black  armour,  pranc- 
ing boldly  up  and  down.  The  Duchess  and  her  ladies 
are  now  sent  for :  and  they  arrive,  much  wondering  who 
this  unexpected  warrior  should  Tbe.  The  judges  then  de- 
mand of  her  whether  she.  will  accept  this  Knight  for  he^r 
champion  ?  She  replies,  that,  she  reposes  her  right  in 
God  and  him. 

"  Mandozze  now,  no  more 
the  Coulitie  can  abyde  : 
But  raigyng  then  wyth  count'Dance  feaitc, 

to  him  forthw'.  doth  ride. 
And  saj-th,  <«  Thou  traytour,  I 

do  now  most  playnlie  see,. 
Thy  accusacion  agaynst 
tjjis  Pryncesse,  falcc  to  ^. 

Inuented 


3921 

InHenteid  for,,dispite, 

most 'wicked  man  alyve: 
And  as  I  sajre,  the  truth  of  it, 

so  God  graunt-me  to  thryve. 
And  that  thou  her  belyest      ' 

I  will  the  same  mayntayne. 
Even  in  thy  hart,  right  falslye  thou 

this  vylanie  didst  fayne. 
And  wretched  Parrycyde,    - 

thou  hast  deserved  to  dye : 
For  murdrynge  of  thy  nepheu  poie, 

whose  gyltles  blood  doth  crye 
For  vengeance  just,  before 

the  face  of  God :  to  paye 
The  due  deserved  byre  furthwith  5 

and  this  which  I  do  saye. 
By  force  in  fight,  1  will 

approve  it  by 'and  bye. 
Thy  wicked  breath  infectes  the  ayre3 

thy  lyfe  offendes  the  skye. 
The  light  doth  loth  thy  looke, 

'tis  timie  for  thee  to  dye  : 
But  now  by  dint  of  swerd  with  thee, 

the  truth  heare  will  I  trye.' 
Hee  had  no  Soner  saide 

but  strayght  with  courage  stotvte 
The  Cquntie  fearce  as  forest  bore, 

these  wordes  hee  blustred  owt. 
Defamed  villayne,  thou ! 

which  nowe  hast  hid  thy  ,name . 
Lest  y'  thy  filthy  faultes  they  might 

be  uttred  with  the  same, 
Darest  thou  to  warrant  her 

which  thus  hath  forfaited ; 
By  whordome  vyle  for  to  defile 

the  Duke  her  husbandes  bed  ? 
Afrayd  for  vilanye 

though  knowne  y"  woldest  npl  bee  : 
Yet  may  thy  sliamelesse  wordes,  _ 

declare  so  muche  of  thee  ; 
That  thou  sum  'ruffian 

one  of  her  mates  mightest  seme, . 
A  vakabounddispysed  knave, 

whom  no  man  doth  esteeme. 
And  therfors  yi'ith  digpitp:  u 
to  thee,  I  will  maiutaine 

That    lat 


393 

That  thou  doestfalsUe  speake  of  mee  : 

and'  so  I  do  againe 
Defie  thee,  as  a  slave 

whose  due  desertes  require 
No  better:  but  with  her  to  bee 

burned  within  one  fyte." 

The  isstie  of  the  combat  must  be  left  to  the  reader's 
imagination  to  supply ;  for  we  are  now  come  to  the  end 
of  the  fragment.  This  will,  however,  be  no  difficult 
task,  if  we  remetaber  the  conclusion  of  "  The  Argu- 
ment." 

"  But  God,  which,  still  defendeth  ryght, 
from  deathe  hath  her  delyvered. 
By  prowesse  of  a  Spanishe  Knyght : 
whom  afterward  she  maryed." 

J.  J.  P. 


Tl  Heere  begmneth  a  mery  lest  of  Dane  Hew  Munk  of 
Leicestre,  and  how  he  wasfoure  times  slain  and  once 
hanged, 

"  In  olde  time  there  was  in  Lecester  town 

An  Abbay  of  Munks  of  great  renown. 

As  ye  shall  now  after  heer : 

But  amongst  them  all  was  one  there 

That  passed  all  his  brethern  iwis. 

His  name  was  Dane  Hew,  so  haue  I  blis. 

This  Munk  was  yung  and  lusty^ 

And  to  fair  women  he  had  a  fansy. 

And.  for  them  be  laid  great  wait  in  deed  : 

In  Leicester  dwelled  a  Tayler  I  reed. 

Which  wedded  a  woman,  fair  and  good; 

They  looued  eche  other,  by  my  hood  j 

Seuen  yeer,  and  somwhat  more, 

Dane  Hew  looued  this  taylers  wife  sore; 

And  thought  alway  in  his  minde. 

When  he  might  her  alone  finde  j 

And  how  he  might  her  assay. 

And  if  she  would  not  to  say  him  nay. 

Upon  a  day,  he,  said,  fair  woman  free. 

Without  I  haue,  my  pleasure  of  thee, 
TOL.  II.  a  a  I  am 


594 

I  am  like  to  go.  from  my  wit : 

Sir,  she  said,  1  haue  m^ny  a  shrewd  fit 

Of  ray  husband  euery  day. 

Dame,  he  said,,  say  not  nay ; 

My  pleasure  I  must  haue  of  thee  }. 

What  so  euer  that  it  cost  mee. 

She  answered  and  said,  if  it  must  needes  be. 

Come  to  morow  vuto  me. 

For  then  my  husband  rideth  out  of  the  town. 

And  then  to  your  wil  I  wil  be  bown; 

And  then  we  may.  make  good  game. 

And  if  ye  come  not  ye  be  to  blame; 

But,  Dane  Hew,  first  tel  thou  me 

What  that  my  rewarde  shalbe. 

Dame,  he  said,  by  my  fay. 

Twenty  hob'.es  of  good  money; 

For  we  wil  make  good  cheer  this  day : 

And  so  they  kist  and  went  their  way. 

The  tayler  came  home  at  euen,  tho. 

Like  as  he  was  wunt  to  doo  : 

And  his  wife  tolde  him  all,  and  some; 

How,  Dane  Hew  in  the  morning  would,  come^, 

And  what  her  meed  of  him  should  be. 

What  ?  dame  thou  art  mad  so  mot  I  thee. 

Wilt  thou  me  a  cuckolds  hood  glue  ? 

Thai  should  me  shrewdly  greeue! 

Nay,  Sir,  she  said,  by  sweet  saint  lohn, 

I  wil  keep  my  self  a  good  woman  !' 

And  get  thee  money  also  iwis. 

For  he  hath  madetherof  a  promisse ; 

Tomorow  earely  heer  to  be, 

I  know  wel  he  wil  not  fail  me ; 

And  I  shall  lock  you  in  the  chest. 

That  ye  outof  the  way  may  be  mist: 

And  whe~dane  He\v  commeth  hether  early,. 

About  fine  of  the  clock  truely  ; 

For  at  that  time  Lis  houre  is  set. 

To  come'  hether  then  without  any  let; 

Then  I  shall  you  call  full  lightly. 

Look  that  ye  come  vnto  me  quickly. 

And  when  the  day  began  to  appeer  in  y".  morning, 

Dane  Hew  came  thitherwarde  fast  renning; 

He  thought  that  he  had  past  his  houre. 

Then  softly  he  knocked  at  the  taylers  dbor ; 

She  rose  vp  and  bad  him  come  neer; 

And  said.  Sir,  wrlcotne'be  ye  heer. 

Good       }Qd 


S9S 

Good  morow  (he  said)  gentle  mistris^ 

Now  tel  me  where  your  husband  iSj 

That  we  may  be  sure  indeed  ? 

Sir,  she  said,  so  God  me  speed. 

He  is  foorth  of  the  town. 

And  wil  not  come  home  til  after  noon. 

With  that  Dane  Hew  was  wel  content. 

And  lightly  in  armes  he  did  her  hent. 

And  thought  to  haue  had  good  game: 

Sir,  she  said,  let  be,  for  shame ! 

For  I  wil  knowe  first  what  I  shall  haue. 

For  when  I  haue  it  I  wil  it  not  craue  j, 

Giue  me  twenty  nobles  first^A 

And  doo  with  me  then  what  ye  list. 

By  my  preesthood,  quoth  he,  than. 

Thou  shalt  haue  in  gold  and  siluer  anon; 

Thou  shalt  no  longer  craue  it  of  me, 

_Lo  my  mistresse  where  they  be ; 

And  in  her  lap  he  it  threw. 

Gramercy  !  she  said  vnto  Dane  Hew, 

Dane  Hew  thought  this  wife  to  assay : 

Abide  sir,  she  said,  til  I  haue  laid  it  away ; 

For  so  she  thought  it  should  be  best. 

With  that  she  opened  then  a  chest  j 

Then  Dane  Hew  thought  to  haue  had  her  alone. 

But  the  tayler  out  of  the  chest  anon. 

And  said,  sir  Munk,  if  thou  wilt  stand, 

I  shall  giue  thee  a  stroke  with  my  brand. 

That  thou  shalt  haue  but  little  lust  vnto  my  wife. 
And  lightly,  without  any  more  strife, 

He  hit  Dane  Hew  vpon  the  hed. 

That  he  fel  down  stark  dead. 

Thus  was  he  first  slain  in  deed; 

Alas !  then  said  his  wife,  with  an  euil  speed, 

Haue  ye  slain  this  munk  so  soone? 

Whither  now  shall  we  run  or  gone  ? 

There  is  no  remedy,  then  said  he. 

Without  thou  giue  good  counsail  to  me ; 

To  conuay  this  false  preest  out  of  the  way. 

That  no  man  speak  of  it,  ne  say 

That  I  haue  killed  him,  or  slain. 

Or  els  that  we  haue  doon  it  in  vain. 

Yea  sir  (she  said)  let  him  abide. 

Til  it  be  soon  in  the  euen  tide, 

«  a  2  Then 


59(> 

Then  shall  we  him  wel  contiay. 

For  ye  shall  beare  him  into  the  Abbay 

And  set  him  straight  vp  by  the  wall. 

And  come  your  way  foorth  withall ;. 

The  Abbot  sought  him  all  about. 

For  he  heard  say  that  ha  was  out. 

And  was  very  angry  with  bim  in  dted. 

And  would  neuer  rest,  so  God  me  speed, 

Vntil  Dane  Hew  that  he  had  found* 

And  bad  his  man  to  seek  him  round 

About  the  place,  and  to  him  say 

That  he  come  speak  with  me  straight  way. 

Foorth  went  his  man,  til  at  the  last 

Beeing  abrode  his  eye  be  cast 

Aside  :  where  he  Dane  HeW  did  seej 

And  viito  lum  then  straight  went  he. 

And  thinking  him  to  be  a  line 

He  said,  Dane  Hew  so  mut  I  thriue, 

I  haue  sought  you  and  meruel  how 

That  I  could  not  finde  you  til  now. 

Dane  Hew  stood  as  stii  as-  he  that  could  not  tel 

What  he  should  say,  no  more  he-  did  good  nor  H. 

"With  that  the  Abbots  man  said  with  good  intet»t,. 

Sir  ye  must  come  to  my  Lord,  or  els  you  be  shent. 

When  Dane  Hew  answered  neuer  a  dele. 

He  thought  he  would  aske  some  couns^il  i 

Then  to  the  Abbot  he  gan  him  h^e, 

I  pray  yoa  nay  Lord  come  by  and  by. 

And  see  where  Dane  Hew  standg^  straight  by  the  wall^ 

And  wil  not  answere  what  so  euer  I  call. 

And  he  stareth  and  looketh  vpon  one  place. 

Like  a  man  that  is  out  of  grace? 

And  one  woord  he  wil  not  speak  for  me  : 

Get  me  a  staf  (quoth  the  Abbot)  and  I  shaH  see, 

And  if  he  shall  not  vnfeo  me  answere. 

Then  when  the  Abbot  came  there. 

And  saw  him  stand  vpright  by  the  wall. 

He  then  to  him  began  to  call; 

And  sfli4  thou  false  Bribour  thou  shalt  aby. 

Why  keepest  thou  not  thy  seruice  truely? 

Come  hether  he  said,  with  an  euil  speed; 

But  no'woord  that  Dane  Hew  answered  in  deed; 

What  whorso*"  (<],  the  Abbot)  why  spekest  not  thou  ? 

Speak  or  els  I  make  God  a  vow 

I  wil  giue  thee  such  a  stroke  vpon  thy  head. 

That  I  shall  make  thee  to  fall  down  dead. 

And 


$97 

And  with  that  he  gaue  him  such  a  rap^ 

That  he  fel  down  at  that  clap. 

Thus  was  he  the  second  time  slain. 

And  yet  he  wroght  them  much  more  pain ; 

As  ye  shall  afterwarde  heer  ful  wel. 

Sir,  quoth  the  abbots^  ap  *  ye  haue  do,p,n  il. 

For  ye  haue  slain  Dane  Hew  now. 

And  suspended  this  place  I  ^nake  God  a  vo'fr. 

What  remedy  (quod  the  Abbot  than  ?) 

Yes,  quoth  his  man,  by  swegt  Saint  lohu. 

If  ye  would  me  a  good  rewarde  giue. 

That  I  may  be  the  better  wljile  that  I  line. 

Yes  (q.  the  Abbot)  xl.  shillings  thou,  shalt  haue. 

And  if  thdii  can  mine  honor  saue  : 

My  Lord  I  tel  you  so  mot  I  thee 

Vnto  such  a  Taylers  house  haunted  he, 

To  woo  his  prety  wife  certain ; 

And  thither  I  shall  him  bring  again,. 

And  there  vpright  I  shall  him  set. 

That  no  man  shall  it  knowe  or  wit. 

And  then  euery  man  wil  saip 

That  the  Tayler  hath  him  slain. 

For  he  was  very  angry  with  him 

That  he  came  to  hj,s  wife  so  oft  time. 

Of  his  counsa.il  he  was  wel  appajdj 

And  his  man  took  vp  dane  Hew  that  braid : 

And  set  him  at  the  Taylers  door  anon, 

.And  ran  home  as  fast  as  he  might  gone. 

The  Tayler  and  his  wife  were  in  bed. 

And  of  Dane  Hew  were  sore  afraid; 

Lest  that  he  would  them, bewray. 

And  to  his  wife  began  to  say-^ 

All  this  night  I  haue  dreamed  of  this  fals(5  caltife. 

That  he  came  to  our  door  (quoth  he  to  his  wife) 

Jesus  (quoth  his  wife)  what  man  be  ye 

That  of  a  dead  man  so  sore  afraid  ye  be  ? 

For  me  thought  that  you  did  him  slo. 

With  that  the  Tayler  to  the  door  gan  go. 

And  a  Polax  itj  his  hatid. 

And  saw  the  Munk  by  the  door  stand; 

Whereof  he  was  sore  afraid; 

And  stil  he  stood  and  no  woord  said. 

Til  he  spake  vnto  his  wife ; 

Dame  now  haue  I  lost  niy  life. 

Without  I  kii  him  first  of  all. 

Foorth  he  took  his  Polax  or  mall, 

*  So  for  man. 
o   a  3  And 


598 

And  liit  Dane  Hew  vpon  the  head^ 
That  he  fel  down  stark  dead. 
And  thus  was  Dane  Hew  three  times  slain, 
And  yet  he  wrought  hira  a  train. 
Alas,' quoth  theTaylerg  wilfe, 
This  caitife  doth  vs  much  strife  : 
Dame,  he  said,  what  shall  we  now  dop? 
Sir,  she  said,  so  mote  go. 
The  Munk  in  a  corner  ye  shall  lay. 
Til  to  morow  before  the  day ; 
Then  in  a  sack  ye  shall  him  thrast, 
And  in  the  Mil  dam  ye  shall  hint  cast. 
I  counsail  it  you  for  the  best  surely. 
So  the  Tayler  thought  to  doo  truely. 
In  the  morning  he  took  Dane  Hew  in  a  Sack, 
And  laid  him  lightly  vpon  his  back  } 
Vnto  the  Mil  Dam  he  gan  him  hye. 
And  there  two  theeues  fee  did  espye. 
That  fro  the  Mil  came  as  fast  as  they  might  j 
But  when  of  the  Tayler  they  had  a  sight, 
They  were  abashed  very  sore, 
"For  they  had  thought  the  miller  had  come  (hore. 
For  of  him  they  were  sore  afraid. 
That  the  Sack  there  down  they  laid. 
And  went  a  little  aside  I  cannot  tel  where. 
Arid  .with  that  the  Tayler  saw  the  sack  lye  there. 
Then  he  looked  therln  anon; 
And  he  saw  it  was  ful  of  Bacon; 
Dane  Hew  then  he  laid  down  there. 
And  so  the  bacon  away  did  beare; 
Til  he  came  home  and  that  was  true. 
The  theeues  took  vp  y'.  sack  with  dane  Hew, 
And  went  their  way  til  they  came  home. 
One  of  the  theeues  said  to  liis  wife  anon. 
Dame  look  what  is  in  that  sack,  I  thee  pray. 
For  there  is  good  bacon  by  my  fay; 
Therfore  make  vs  good  cheer  lightly ; 
The  wife  ran  to  the  Sack  quickly ; 
And  when  she  had  the  Sack  vnbound. 
The  dead  Munck  therein  she  found.  ' 
Then  she  cryed  out,  and  said  alas, 
I  see  heer  a  meruailsus  case, 
That  ye  haue  slain  Dane  Hew  so  soon; 
Hanged  shall  ye  be  if  it  be  knoweni 
Nay,  good  dame,  said  tliey  again  to  her. 
For  it  hath  been  the  false  miller ! 

Then       len 


S99 

Then:  they  took  Dane  Hew  again, 
And  brought  him  to  the  mil  certain. 
Where  they  did  steal  the  Bacon  before. 
And  there  they  ha~ged  Dane  Hew  for  store ; 
Thus  was  he  once  hanged  in  deed. 
And  y«  theeues  ran  ho~e  as  fast  as  they  could  speed : 
The  Millers  wife  rose  on  the  morning  erly. 
And  lightly  made  herself  redy. 
To  fetch  some  Bacon  at  the'  lasti 
But  when  she  looked  vp  she  was  agast. 
That  she  saw  the  munk  hang' there; 
She'cryed  out,  and  put  them  all  in  fere; 
And  said  heer  is  a  chaunce  for  the  nones. 
For  heer  hangeth  the  false  Munk  by  cocks  bones. 
That  hath  been  so  Lecherous  many  a  day. 
And  with  mens  wiues  vsed  to  play. 
Now  some  body  hath  quit  his  meed  ful  wel, 
I  trow  it  was  the  Deuil  of  Hel; 
And  our  Bacon  is  stolne  away. 
This  I  call  a  shrewd  play. 
I  wot  not  what  we  shall  this  winter  eate. 
What  wife  (quoth  the  Miller)  ye  must  all  this  forget; 
And  giue  me  some  good  counsail  I  pray, 
'  How  we  shall  this  Munk  corluay. 
And  priuily  of  him  we  may  be  quit; 
Sir,  she  said,  that  shall  you  lightly  wit. 
Lay  him  in  a  corner  til  it  be  night. 
And  we  shall  conuay  him  or  it  be  day  light. 
The  Abbot  hath  a  close  heer  beside, 
Therin  he  hath  a  good  horse  vntide. 
Go  and  fetch  him  home  at  night. 
And  bring  him  vnto  me  straight. 
And  we  shall  set  him  there  vpon  in  deed. 
And  binde  him  fast  so  God  me  speed. 
And  giue  him  a  long  pole  in  his  hand. 
Like  as  he  would  his  enmies  withstand. 
And  vnder  his  arme  we  wil  it  thrust. 
Like  as  he  would  fiercely  iust. 
Fo[r]  (she  said)  as  ye  wel  knowe. 
The  Abbot  hath  a  Mare  gentle  and  lowe. 
Which  ambleth  wel  and  trotteth  in  no  wise. 
But  in  the  morning  when  the  Abbot  dooth  rise. 
He  commaurideth  his  mare  to  him  to  be  brought; 
For  to  see  his  workmen  if  they  lack  ought. 
And  vpon  the  mare  he  rideth'as  1  you  tel. 
For  to  see  and  all  things  be  wel. 

a  a  4  And 


'$0O 

And  when  this  Horse  seeth  this  mare  anon> 
Vnto  her  he  wil  lightly  run  or  gone  j 
When  the  Miller  this  vn^erstood. 
He  thought  his  wiues  counsail  was  good. 
And  held  him  wel  therwith  content, 
And  ran  for  the  horse  verament. 
And  when  he  the  horse  had  fet  at  the  last, 
Dane  Hew  vpon  bis  back  he  cast; 
And  bound  hio)  to  the  horse  ful  sure. 
That  he  might  the  better  indure. 
To  ride  as  fast  as  they  migbt  ren  5 
Now  shall  ye  knowe  how  the  Miller  did  theri. 
He  tooke  the  horse  by  the  brydle  anon. 
And  Dane  Hew  sitting  theron ; 
And  brought  Wm  that  of  the  mare  he  had  a  sight, 
Then  the  horse  ran  fill  right. 
Tbe. Abbot  looked  a  littlehim  beside. 
And  saw  that  Dane  Hew  towarde  him  gan  Jide; 
And  was  almoste  out  of  his  minde  for  &ate. 
When  he  saw  Dane  Hew  come  so  neeie. 
He  cr-yed  help,  for  the  looue  of  the  trinitie. 
For  I  see  wel  that  Dane  Hew  auenged  wil  be. 
Alas  I  am  but  a  dead  man  ! 

And  with  that  from  his  Mare  he  ran  j  ^  ■ 

The  abbots  men  ran  on  Dane  Hew  quickly. 
And  game -him  many  strokes  lightly : 
With  clubs  and  staues  many  one. 
They  casthim  to  the  earth  anone; 
So  they  kilFed  him  once  again. 
Thus  was  he  once  hanged  and  foure  times  slaine; 
And  buried  at  the  last  as  it  was  best, 
I  pray  God  send  vs  all  good  resc. 
Amen. 
Imprinted  at  London  at  the  long  shop  adioyning  vnto  SainI; 
Mildred's  Churche  in  the  Pultriej  by  lohn  Allde. 

The  tale  of  Dan  Hew  bears  a  more  than  common 
similarity  to  that  of  Little  Humpback  in  the  Arabian 
Nights  Entertainments,  *  a  story",  with  which  it  does 
not  seem  probable  the  writer  could  be  acquainted.  The 
first  notice  of  AlJde  as  a  printer  is  in  1554  ;t  but  the 
rudeness  of  the  language,  the  attack  on  the  libidinous 
passions  of  the  monks,   and   the  imperfections  of  the 

•  Beaumont's  Translation,  1811,  Vol.11,  p.  r. 
t  He  then  took  out  his  freedom  in  the  Stationer's  Company. 
His  earliest  book  with  a  date  was  in  1561. 

metre, 


metre,  certainly  give  the  composition  a  strong  appearance 
of  an  earlier  date ;  perhaps  by  more  than  a  century. 
The  poem  has  been  transcribed  erttire  from  a  volume  in 
the  Bodleian  library,  already  noticed,*  where,  at  the 
same  time,  were  obtained  iIk;  following  ingenious  ob- 
servations on  the  name  of  the  monk,  extracted  from  a 
letter  by  Wanley  to  Dr.  Charlett. 

"  Of  Mr.  Selden's  printed  volume  of  Songs  or  Ballads 
which  lies  somewhere  in  4to.  C.  [39]  Art.  Seld.  I  remember 
not  the  particular  number;  but  it  may  be  found  in  Dr.  Hyde's 
printed  Catalogue,  if  yon  please  to  look  therein  at  the  word 
Dan  Hew.  And  by  the  way,  Mr.  Hudson  will  find  a  little 
mistake  in  the  Catalogue  as  to  this,  very  song,  f  For  Dan. 
Hew  seems  to  intimate  as  if  the  monk's  name  was  Vaniel 
Hew;  when  as  it  should  be  Dan  Hew  without  the  point,  as 
{doubtless)  it  is  in  the  song  itself.  Han  in  that  place  being 
no  name,  but  a  title,  such  as  Mr.  is  now.  It  comes  originally 
from  Dominus,  which  in  the  Monkish  and  barbarous  ages,  was 
usually  written  DomMZM,  and  afterwards  abbreviated  by  the 
French  in  their  language  into  Dow.,  by  the  Spaniards  Don, 
and  by  the  English  into  Dan,  as  Dan  Lydgate,  &c.  This 
titie^  prevailing  antiently  as  Mr.  does  now,  which  being 
graqltSd  to  particularmen  of  merit  and  learning  in  Universities, 
does  now  obtain  over  all  the  kingdom.  And  as  for  Hew,  I 
take  it  to  be  no  more  than  Hugh,  a  Christian  name,  and  con- 
sequently Dan  Hew  to  be  in  monkish  Latin  Damnus  Hugo. 
And  this  Monk  is  all  along  called  by  his  Christian  name  in 
the  rude  song  about  him,  as  Absalom,  Nicholas,  and  others  in 
Chaucer;  surnames  being  not  yet  universally  received.  May 
22,  1701."+  J.H. 


5[    The    Enemie    to    Fnthryftinesse :  pulUshing  ly 

Lawes,   documents   and  disciplines,  &c.  ^c.  By 

George   Whetstons    Gent.      Printed  at  London  ly 
Richard  Jones,  1586.  Sm,  4to. 

The  full  title-pages  of  the  first,  §  and  present  editions 
of  this  work  will  be   found  in    the  fourth   volume  of 

*  See  British  Bib.  Vol.  I.  p.  6t. 
•j-  The  common  sheet  ballads,  or  songs,  are  often  like  the  above 
a  narrative  poem. 

X  MSS.  Ballard  XIII.  fol.  60.  §  Printed  in  1584. 

the 


602 

ihe  Censura  Literaria(pag&  2^  i) .  Mr.  Park  there  ob- 
serves, that  "  the  secondpart,  or  addition,  is  the  interest- 
ing portion  of  this  book,  and  seems  to  have  been  de- 
signed, like  Mr.  Colquhoim's  Disquisition  on  the  Polide, 
to  expose  the  Frauds,  Impositions,  and  Vices,  whiph 
disgraced  our  English  metropolis." — It  is  entitled,  "An 
Addition  or  Touchstone  for  the  times :  exposing  the 
dangerous  Mischiefcs,  that  the  dicyng  Howses  {com- 
monly called)  Ordinarie .Tables,  and  other  (like)  Sanctu- 
aries of  Iniquitie  do  dayly  breede:  within  the  Bowelles 
of  the  famous  Citie  of  London,  by  George  Whetstones, 
Gent.     Imprinted  at  London  by  Rieharde  Jones." 

With  every  sentiment  of  respect  for  the  purity  of  the 
author's  intentions,  we  must  express  a  hope,  that  507we 
of  his  representations,  in  this  latter  work,  are  considerably 
overcharged;  otherwise  the  superiority  that  is  frequently 
maintained  of  the  ^'  Golden  days  of  Elizabeth,"  over 
later  times,  must  be  deemed  partial  and  unfounded. 
The  vice  of  gartibling,  upon  which  Whetstone  princi- 
pally treats,  appears  to  have  been  carried  to  an  almost 
incredible  excess,  and  its  decrease  in  the  country,  (I  wj^h 
I  could  add  its  total  disappearance  from  it)  may  probably 
be  chiefly  ascribed  to  that  general  diffusion  of  literature 
-and  science,  which  now  happily  prevails  amongst  us. 

Whetstone  first  inveighs  "against  stage  playesj"  and 
as  the  genius  of  Shakespear  had  not  then  dawned  upon 
his  native  country,  his  censures  are  more  readily  tole- 
rated. We  must  also  suppose  that  his  censures  extend 
merely  to  immoral-  and  licentious  performances,  as  the 
author  himself,  had  a  few  years  previously  appeared  in 
the  character  of  a  dramatic  writer. 

"  The  godly  diviues,  in  publique  sermons,  &  other?  in 
printed  bookes,  have  (of  latt)  very  sharply  invayed  against 
stage- playes  (unproperlj  called,  tragedies,  comedies,  & 
moralles)  as  the  sprj'nges  of  many  vices,  &  the  stumblyng- 
blockes  of  godlynesse  and  vertue.  Truely  the  use  of  them 
upon  the  saboth  day,  and  the  abusq  of  them  at  al  times,  with 
scuriltytie  and  unchaste  co~veiance,  minislred  matter  sufiGcient 
for  them  to  blame,  and  the  maiestrate  to  reforrae. 
■  "  But,  there  are  in  the  bowels  of  this  famous  citie,  farre 
more  daungerous  playes,  &  little  reprehended:  that  wicked 
playes  of  the  dice,  fir^t  invented  by  the  devyll  (as  Cornelius 

Agrippa 

t 


6os 

Agrippa  wryfeth)  &  frequented  by  unhappy  raen :  the  detes- 
table roote,  upon  which  a  thousand  villanies  growe. 

"  The  nurses  of  thease,  (worse  than  heathnysh)  hellish 
exercise  are  places  called  ordinary  tables :  of  which  there,  arc 
Jn  London,  more  in  nomber,  to  honor  the  devyll,  then  churches 
to  serve  the  living  God :  neither  are  they  improperly  named: 
for,  in  verye  truetb,  they  are  the  ordjnarie  intertgyners  of 
naughtie  persons,  and  the  sinckes  of  all  abhomynation."  P.  24^ 

"  There  are  within  the  sulurles  of  London,  divers  worthie 
.bouses,  called  Innes  of  the  Court,  and  of  the  Chancerie: 
places  where  the  lawes  of  this  realnne  are  publiquely  read 
^studied  and  learned:  places  of  rnuch  honour  &  reputation,  as 
welj  in  respect  of  the  reverentrjesse  of  the  personages,  which, 
governe  them,  as  also  for  the  exercise  of  the  lawes,  whiche 
are  the  strength  &  ornamentes  of  every  wel  governed  comon- 
■wealth:  every  gentleman,  and  almost  yeoman  of  abylitje, 
sendeth  the  ripest  witted  of  his  children,  unto  some  one  of 

thease  houses,  to  study  the  common  lawes  of  Englande 

But  by  reason  of  dycyng  bowses,  and  other  alectiyes  to  un- 
thriftinesse,  tlje  good  father,  which- is  at  charge  to  make  his 
Sonne  a  Jawijer,  to  do  his  countrey  service,  throughe  the  looser 
nesse  of  the  sonne,  (many  titpes)  spendpth  his  cqoney,  to  the 
undooyng  of  his  posterytie. 

"  The  swarme  of  vnthriftes,  whiche  ly ve  upqn  shiftes,  ia 
&  within  the  Cittie  of  London,  first  seaze  upon  there  yong- 
iynges:  by  their  lewde  conversation,  they  drawe  them  from 
studdie,  &  do  acquaint  them  with  their  wicked  ordinaries. 
p.  25. 

"  I  must  here  digresse  from  the  prodigalitle  of  the  gentle- 
man, vnto  the  covetousnesse  and  usurie,  I  can  not  properly  say 
of  the  citizen,  although  he  dwelleth  in  y^  citie;  for  the  true 
citizen  (wherof  London  hath  plentie)  liveth  upoii  his  trade, 
|)e  be  an  adventurer  abroade,  or  a  inecanicall  crafts  man  at 
home.  But  th,ese  shames  of  good  citizens  tendeth  but  to  a 
dyeing  house,  or  at  the  furthest  travaileth  to  a  bowling  alley, 
&  with  ease  &  safetie  getteth, wealth  as  fast  as  the  other  doe 
with  great  hazard  and  travell — They  come  not  to  play  the 
unthrifts,  but  to  pray  upon  unthriftsj  &  yet  for  corapanie,  & 
to  avoid  suspicion,  they  will  sometime  play  the  good  fellowes 
All  the  rest  are  but  instruments  for  these  daungerous  catch- 
ers— ^These  neede  not  too  greedily  se.  ke  for  purchases;  the 
necessitie  of  the  gentlemen  makelh  them  faire  offers;  &  their 
spies  the  petifogger  &  others  giveth  them  knowledge  where 
there  is  sound  dealing.  Among  them  there  is  such  deceit, 
coloured  with  such  cleanly  shifts,  as  many  gentlemen  are  for 

a  trifle. 


5o4 

a  trifle,  shifted  out  of  their  liuings  without  hope  of  remeclie. 
The  extiemitie  of  these  mens  dealings  hath  beene  &  is  so  crueil 
as  there  is  a  natural  malice  generally  impressed  in  the  hearts 
of  the  gentlemen  of  England,  towards  the  citizens  of  Londm, 
insomuch  as  if  they  odiously  name  a  man,  they  foorthwith 
call  him  a  trirame  merchaunt.  In  like  despight  the  citizen 
calleth  every  rascall  a  joly  gentleman — And  truely  this  raortall 
envie  betweene  these  two  woorthie  estates,  was  first  engendred 
of  the  crueil  usage  of  covetous  merchaunts,  in  hard  bargainee 
gotten  of  gentlemen,  &  nourished  with  malitious  words  &  re- 
venges taken  ofboth  parties      P.  IQ. 

"  I  co~Btant]y  determine  to  crosse  the  streets,  where  these 
vile  houses  (ordinaries)  are  planted,  to  blesse  me  frpm  the  in- 
ticemtnts  of  the",  which  in  very  deed  are  rnany^  &  the  more 
dangerous  in  that  they  please  with  a  vain  hope  of  gain.  Inso- 
much on  a  time,  I  heard  a  disteraperate  dicer  solemnly  sweare 
that  he  faithfully  beleeved,  that  dice  were  first  made:  of  the 
iones  of  a  witch,  &  cards  of  her  skin,  in  which  there  hath  ev?r 
sithence  remained  an  incbantraent  y'.  whosoever  once  taketli 
delight  in  either,  he  shall  never  have  power  utterly  to  leave 
them,  for  quoth  he,  I  a  hundred  times  vowed  to  leave  both, 
yet  have  not  the  grace  to  forsake  either — But  for  al  his  judge- 
ment, if  Socrates  alterd  his  natural  inclination  of  insoleapie  oy 
philosophic;  if  the  wise  Vlisses  could  eate  of  the  herb  called 
Lotos  &  yet  by  the  pleasantnesse  therof  would  not  be  in- 
chanted  to  reraaine  in  that  countrie,  when  his  companions  & 
servants  (forgetting  their  natural  land)  coveted  to  remain  stil 
in  that  region  where  that  herb  grewe,  &  but  only  by  violence, 
they  could  not  be  brought  back  again  to  their  ships ;  if  heathen 
men  only  by  philosophic  could  master  their  dispositio"s.  Chris- 
tians by  praier  &  philosophie  may  overcome  an  inticing  mis- 
chcefe.  But  unto  this  possibilitie  of  reformation  wise  men 
are  to  give  light  evidence.  Old  Judge  Chotnley  evermore 
aunswered  naughtie  livers  that  sued  for  mercie,  desiring  him 
to  regard  the  frailties  of  young  men,  by  the  bolde  unl3wful 
actions  of  his  owne  youth,  &  by  the  testimonie  of  his  grace, 
good  fortune,  &  present  authoritie,  to  conceive  hope  erf  their 
amendment — ^O  ray  friendes,  quoth  the  Judge,  I  tel  you 
plainly,  that  of  twentie  that  in  those  dayes  were  my  com- 
panions, I  onely  escaped  hanging:  and  it  is  very  likely^  that 
some  one  of  your  fellowship  is  by  Gods  goodnesse  reserved  to 
be  an  honest  man,  but  you  are  found  offenders  by  the  lawe, 
&:  truely  justice  (whose  sentence  I  am  sworne  to  pronounce) 
commaundeth  me  to  commend  your  soules  to  Almightie  God, 
&  your  bodies  to  the  gallowse.  This  notable  Judge  in  his 
annswere  was  not  short  &  sweete,  but  round  &  severe  "  P.  32. 

It 


6o5 

It  appears,  from  the  concluding  passages  of  this  work, 
•that,  ill  additisoj  to  the  peril?  hy  land  and  sea,  which  it 
was  the  author's  lot  to  undergo,  during  a  life  marked  by 
many  vicissitudes,  he  was  at  one  time  involved  in  legal 
difficulties,  and  most  probably  exposed  to  all  the  uncer- 
tainties arid  delay  of  a  terrific  Chancery  suit. 

"  Ho  man  was  ever  assaulted  with  a  more  daungerous 
strategctae  of  cosonage  than  my  selve,  with  which  my  life 
&  living  Was  hardly  besfet.  No  man  hath  more  cause  to 
thanke  God  for  a  free  delivery  than  my  selve,  nor  anie  man 
ever  sawe,  more  suddaine  vengeance  inflicted  upon  his  advei'- 
saries,  than  I  my  selve  of  mine :  as  lively  appeareth  in  the 
ende  of  my  booke  intituled  The  Rocke  of  Regarde,  imprinted 
many  yeares  past. 

"  Arid  although  to  cure  the  extremitie  I  then  fared  as  a 
man  sore  scalded  with  fire,  which  in  hope  of  ease  leapeth 
into  colde  water  which  presently  stripeth  off  his  sldn  So  I 
that  had  experience  of  strangers  Irage  deceite,  thought  that 
the  pleasihg  perswasion  of  neare  friendes,  would  turne  to  a 
comfortable  remedie,  but  I  find  the  olde  larkes  song, true: 
There  is  no  trust  in  faire  wordes,  nor  assurance  in  natures 
obligations — But  after  three  yeares  &  more  of  costly  sute  my 
greevous  oppression  (God  be  therefore  praised)  hath  pearsed 
the  inclining  eares  of  the  Right  Honorable  &  Gracious  ludge, 
the  L.  Chancelor  of  Englande :  by  whose  wisedom  &  grave 
,  judgement,  I  constantly  beleeve  to  be  releved  &  released  of  the 
toile  of  lawe."  *  P.  36. 

J.  H.  M. 


^  The  maner  and  fourrne  how  to  kepe  a  perfecte 
reconung,  after  the  order  of  (he  moste  worthie  and 
notahle  accomple  of  Delitour  and  Creditour,  set 
foorihe  in  certain  tahles,  with  a  declaration  thereunto 
belongyng,  verie  easie  to  he  learned  and  also  profitable, 
not  »nely  vnto  suche,  that  trade  in  the  facte  of  Mar- 
ckaundise  hut  also  vnto  any  other  estate  that  will 
learne  the  same.    1553.     Imprinted  at  London  ly 

*  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Cochrane,  of  Fleet-street,  for  the  pe- 
rusal and  loan  of  this  work. 

Richard 


6o6 

Richrtrd  Grafton,  printer  to  the  kinges  MaiesHg. 
Cum  priuilegio  ad  imprimendurrt  solum.    Folio* 

By  the  words  of  the  imprint  Grafton  must  have  useA  thft 
benefit  of  his- patent  from  Edward  Vlth.  to  the  utmost  verge; 
This  work  could  not  have  gone  to  press  until  late  in  the  year 
1553,  the  iledication  being  addressed  "  To  the  right  worship- 
full  sir  William  Densell  knight  Treasurer  of  the  Queues  Maies- 
ties  Wardts,  and  Gouernoure  of  the  moste  worthie  and  fa- 
mous compaignie  of  Marchau~t  aduenturers:  and  to  al.  the 
wershipfull  felovvshippe  of  the  same.  [To  whom]  James  Peele 
wisheth  health  and  prosperous  successe  in  all  affaires."  [ft  also 
describes  it  as  a  New-year's  gift.     Continuing]  Emongest  all 
the  people  whiche  Hue  in  this  worlde  by  the  wonderful  bene- 
fites  of  almightie  God  there  is  none,  that  at  this  presente  tyme 
tjooeth  not  seke  to  gratifie  his  frende  with  some  one  Newyers 
gift_^or  other,  whiche  vse  and  custome,  because  it  is  a  thing  ac.> 
eeptable,  for  that  all.  people  are  thereby  knowen  thankfull, 
not  onely  for  the  mutuall  giftes  receiued  one  of  another,  but 
also  for  all  the  pleasures  &  benefites,  that  the  lorde  God  shall 
sende  vnto  the~  in  the  newe  yere.     I  haue  determined  that 
albeit  I  wure  not  the  first  yet  I  would  not  be  the  last  with  my 
trauaill  tosalute  so  wershipfull  apatrone  &  so  famous  &  notable 
3  felowship." 

Andrews,  in  the  continuation  of  Dr.  Henry's.  History 
9f  Great  Britain,  has  the  following  account  of  our 
author's  work: 

"  The  Italian  method  of  book-keeping  was  taugbt  in 
England  by  James  Peele,  A.  D.  1569,  His  work  printed  in 
the  black-letter,  is  still  extant ;  and  its  instructions,  aithougl>. 
verbose,  are  practicable.  The  preface  speaks  of  the  art  as  new 
in  England,  but  as  having  been  long  used  by  foreign  mer-, 
chants  J,  and  affirms  that  many  merchants  ofj  London  took  in- 
structions from  him,  and  sent  their  apprentices  to  be  taught."f 

This  information  must,  by  the  date,  have  been,  derived 
{ram  some  later  edition,  vshich  was  probably  enlarged 
and  improved  as  the  science  became  better  known.    His 

*  The  above  title  is  central- of  an  elegant  architectrative  com- 
partment of  the  Dcirick  order,  used  by  Grafton  for  the  Statutes, 
1548.    See  Herbert,  525-^Tbe  contents  back  of  title-page. 

t  Vol.  II.  p.  14.4. 

own 


6o7 

own  information  of  the. system  being  used  abroad,  is  ob- 
scurely noticed  in  the  dedication. 

"Your  poore  oratour  (he  says)^  accordyng  to  the  small 
talente  that  God  hath  geuen  hyra,  hath  taken  in  hande  to 
write  of  the  trade  and  order  of  accomptes  for  marchaundize, 
and  to  the  entente,  it  mighte  bee  spedely  learned  of  all  suche, 
as  are  not  skilful!  therin,  and  yet  entende  to  tranaill  in  the 
saied  facultie,  hath  drawen  the  whole  course  and  trade  therof, 
into  a  fewe  tables,  wherin  is  conteined,  not  onely  an  Inuentorie 
but  also  a  Jornall  and  Quaterne  booke,  so  plain  and  euident, 
that  to  an  experte  Marchaunte,  thai  shalbe  assone  knowen,  as 
thei  be  read,  but  to  suche  as  are  not  skilfuU,  ne  able  to  make 
Vp  their  bpokes,  and  perfectly  accorapt  for  lacke  of  knowlege  j 
he  hath  ioyned  also  to  his  saied  tables,  a  certain  declaration, 
and  hath  deuided  it  into  diuers  and  sundry  chapters,  that  as 
well  the  ignorant  as  the  learned  roaye  enioye  the  fruites  therof. 
Many  might  haue  done  it  better,  yet  haue'l  done  my  good  wil, 
and  folowed  therin  the  most  easie  and  best  waye  that  euer  I 
perceiued  amongest  marchauntes,  euen  the  trade  (as  I  tbinke) 
that  is  vsed  in  Venice  and  in  other  places,  for  their  great  occu- 
pying, very  notable.  And  forasmuche  as  no  gift  is  so  richCj  as 
that  whiche  doth  excel  in  godly  zeale  and  loue,  I  am  the 
■bolder  to  dedicate  these  my  said  tables  with  the  declaration  to 
{hem  belonging,  to  your  mastership." 

It  may  also  be  remarked  that  the  preface  does  not  an- 
nounce the  system  as  new  to  English  merchants,  neither 
does  it  state  that  he  had  been  invited  to  instruct  appren- 
tices,.    It  follows : 

"  I  dooe  consider,  gentle  reader,  the  bounde  dutie  of  all 
suche  persones,  as  are  endued  with  knowelege  and  learnyng, 
how  muche  thei  are  to  blame,  if  thei  dooe  not  wiliyngly,  either 
by  writyng  ot  teachyng  (hauyng  good  oportunitie)  apply  their 
ptudy  and  whole  endeuoure,  to  profite  a  common  wealthe. 
"Wherefore  I  beeyng  enforced,  partly  by  the  loue  and  zeale, 
that  I  beare  vnto  this  my  natiue  countrey,  as  also  to  auoide  the 
same  faulte  in  my  self  haue  not  ceassed'to  take  peines  herein- 
Neitherhaue  I  had  so  muche  respecte,  to  please  suche  as  haue 
perfect  knowlege,  in  this  order  of  accomptes  (with  subtle 
tcarmes  of  other  languages,^  but  rather  vsed  as  plain  and 
familier  speache,  in  our  owne  language,  as  I  could  deuise, 
whereby  the  learners,  the  soner  might  bee  instructed.  And 
true  it  is,  that  many  whiche  haue  liked,  this  my  peines  and 
diligence  herein,  haue  required  me,  not  onely  to  instructe  the, 
bu^a!so  it  to  further  and  publisher  peswadyng  m^j  that  euery 

Mod 


6o8 

good  thyng  the  further  it  goeth,  the  better;  and  that  this  my 
doyng  should  be  as  necessary  vnto  the  worshipfiill  fetowshippc 
of  the  Marcbauntes,  as  either  is  meete  or  drinke  to  hym  that 
dooeth  thirst  or  hunger.  I  therefore  weighyng  -with  my  self 
the  greate  benefite,  &  also  quietnesse  that  should  thereby  en- 
sue haue  endeuoured  (to  my  sniale  power)  not  onely  tp  satisfie 
the  request  of  my  saied  frei;des,  but  also  the  greate  lacke  and 
nedefull  instruccion,  which©  many  haue  wanted  in  their  ac- 
comptes.  For  emongest  althynges  nedefull  in  anjt  mcifm, 
touchyng  worldly  affaires  betwene  man  and  man,  it  is  to  be 
thought  that  true  and  perfect  reconyng  is  one  of  the  chief, 
the  lacke  wherof,  often  tymes  causetb,  not  onely  gr-eatfe  dis- 
ce'cion,  but  also  is  an  occasion  of  greate  losse  of  tyme,  and 
emppuerishement  of  many,  who  by  lawes,  seke  trial!  of 
suche  thynges,  as  neither  partie  is  well  hable  tO;  eicpresse,  an-d 
that  for  lacke  of  perfecte  instruccion  in  thc,ir  accotnpt, 
whiche  thyng  might,  if  that  a  perfecte  ordre  in  reconyng  were 
frequented  of  all  men,  right  well  be  auoided.  For  often  times 
the  lawes  is  attempted  of  some  one  man  against  his  frende  or 
neighbour,  but  euen  of  suspicion..  For  that  his  reconynges, 
through  want  of  a  perfecte  ordre,  haue  been  negligeatly  kepte, 
fearyng  that  he  hath  been  decciued,  when  that  he  is  not 
throughly  hable  to  saie  (with  a  cleare  coasience)  whether  he 
haue  been  deceiued  of  any  thing  at  all,  or  not.  Wherefore  ray 
desire  is  that  this  my  trauaill  herein  taken  might  be  so  bene- 
ficiall  to  all  menne,  that  at  all  tymes  eche  man  with  other, 
frendly  may  conferre  their  reconynges,  and  therby  to  staie 
such  wariances  as  ek-maie  ensue,  the  triall  wherof  is  verie  eaSiS 
to  suche  as  in  their  accompt  and  reconyng  shall  folowe  thordre 
of  this  my  boke.  In  so  muche,  that  to  the  willyngand  peinfuU 
man  it  shal  be  qf  such«  force,  efficasltie  and  vertue,  that  no 
ma"  shalbe  hable  to  do  other  wrong,  specially  in  any  thyng 
that  in  bargaiayng  is  ones  agreed  vpon.  Read  therefore  and 
vse  this  my  labour  f6r  thy  comtnodite.  I  double  not  but  it 
shalbe  as  profitable  to  thee,  as  ta  me  painfull.    Fare  ye  well."" 

The  necessary  rnfcs  are  set  forth  ia  eleven  chapters, 
which  define  and  illustrate  his  system,  but  too  technical 
to  yield  an  extract.  A  skeleton  is  given  of  his  three 
books,  distinguished  as  the  Memorial,  Journal,  and 
Qiiaternund,  which  is  preceded  by  a  poem  of  eight  stan- 
zas.   These  require  but  a  short  specimen. 


6ot> 

*"  Ati  txhorlation  to  letirite  sciences  Especially  of  the 
accompt  in  the  Trade  of  marcliandise. 

^'  As  lacke  of  science  causeth  pouertie. 
And  dooeth  abate  mans  estimation ; 
So  l^arnyng  dooeth  brynge  to  ptoSperitie 
Suche  as  of  goddes  haue  shiall  possession. 
Then  liiuste  we  Countfe  hyiii  ware,  discrefete,  dhd  wysft, 
Whyle  tyme  dboeth  serue,  can  tyme  so  well  reteyne; 
That  in  good  tyme  hym  tymely  can  aduysej 
Tyrtie  Well  to  spende,  and  tourne  it  to  his  gayne. 
For  tyme  well  sperite  to  gayne  and  not  to  Waste 
The  gayne  will  byde,  though  tyme  dooth  passe  aiid  rUniie, 
But  all  to  late,  yf  tyme  shall  ones  bee  paste, 
For  tyme  ones  loste,  can  not  agayne  be  wonne.'' 

J.  a. 


Tl    Some  account  of  a  Manuscript  in  Dr.  Rawlinson's 
CoUecfion  in  the  Bodleian  Library, 

t  see  no  reason  why  the  pages  of  theBiBLibGRAPHER 
should  not  be  open  occasionally  to  descriptions  bi  manu- 
script as  well  as  printed  curiosities,  provided  the  con- 
tents of  such  as  are  noticed  appear  interesting  to  the 
genefality  of  readers.  I  shall  therefoi'e,  without  further 
preface,  commence  by  enumerating  the  contents  of  a 
volume  bequeathed  by  Dr.  Rawlinson  of  St.  John's  Col- 
lege, to  the  Uriiversify  of  Oxford,  and  noW  presferved 
among  his  extensive  aiid  extreitaely  valuable  coUfectioii  in 
the  Bodleian. 

Mss.  Rawl.  Poet.  io8. 

A  thin  quarto,  written  about  the  year  i^'jo,  on  paper, 
containing  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  verses,  songs, 
&c.  in  the  same  hand,  and  apparently  used  as  a  common- 
place-book by  its  original  possessor.  From  folio  i  to  5 
are  several  epigrams  in  Latin,  transcribed  from  various 
roL.  II.  R  R  authors. 


6io 

^authors.     The  first  is  by  Sir  Thomas  MorCj  although  no 
name  is  subjoined  to  the  manuscript : 

"  Res  gravis  est  vxor,  poterit  tamen  vtilis  esse. 
Si  propere  moriens,  det  sua  cuncta  tibi." 

Fol.  6.  Lines  to  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester,  by 
Walter  Haddon  and  Thomas  Wilison. 

Fol.  6,  (b)  "  Epitaphiu"  clarissimi  viri  &  militiss. 
principis  Joh~is  nup.  ducis  Northunibrie."  This  noble- 
man was  behp.9.ded.in  1553. 

Chaucer's  epitaphs,  as  printed  in  Urry's  Life,  Sign, 
e  ii.  with  the  fol]owi;ng,  which  I  do  not  remember  to 
:have  seen  before, 

"  Vertue  flouresshethe  in  Chawcere  styll. 

Though  death  ofFhym  hath  wrought  hys  wyll." 

FoL  7,  and  8.  Couplets,  and  short  proverbs  in  meetre, 
English  and  Latin. 

Fol.  8,  (b)  "  Laurentij  Humfredi,  S.  theologiEe  doc- 
tor: pro  R.  Eliz.  ad  deum,  precatio." 

Fol.  9.  Short  verses,  of  which  the  following  wiM  serve 
as  a  specimen  : 

"  The  hunter  when  one  bedde  he  doth  his  weried  corps'repose. 

Yet  on  y'  woods  and  game  theirein  his  mind  hit  alwayes 

goes:  [styll 

Arid  those  w'''  all  yeir  youihe  haue  spent  iri  wantoncs,  do 

(When  strength  of  bodi  aige  bathe  tam'dj)  retaine  their 

nawghti  wyll." 

Fpl.  iO-;-ii.  The  figures  of  the  following  dances. 
"Thepavyan;  Tu'rquylonye  le  basse;  My  lord  of  Fs- 
sex  measures;  Tynternell;  Lorayne  Allemayne ;  The 
oldAllmayne;  Brouinswycke ;  the  queue's  j^Umayne;- 
The  newe  Allemayne  ;  The  longe  pavian  ;  Cycyllya  Ale- 
mayne  ;  The  newe  cycillia  allemaine ;  Cycyllya  pavj  an, 
Quanto  dyspayne;  The  nyne  muses." 

"  The  queue's  allmayne. 

ij  singles  forward,  cast  of,  a  duble  rownd,  ij  singles  syde,re- 
prynce  backc  twyce.     A  duble  forward,  hoppe  iiij  tymes." 
Fol.  11.  (b)  When  shall  all  cruell  stormes  be  past? 
Shall  not  your  love  my  rigour  slake  ? 
/  wyll  no  more,  whyle  lifFe  dothe  laste, 

Meddeh 


6ii 

Meddell  with  loue,  but  hyt  forsake, 
U'ith  owt  you  answere,  and  reherse 
Thee  first  word  of  enry  verse 

quoth  he— 
IFhen  stormes  are  bryme,  the  calme  Is  next : 
Tyme  triethe  all  thinges  in  eurye  place  : 
JDothe  not  eurye  wise  man  knowe  this  text. 
Serve  truly e,  thereof  commethe  grace  ? 
You  are  no  fooje,  your  wyellye  brayne 
Shall  serve  to  find  my  answere  playne— 

quoth  she." 

Fol.  la.  A  song,  in  dialogue,  beginning, 

"  Maddame  d'Angloye,  me  tell  you  verve  true. 
Me  be  verye  muche'enamored  wythe  youe." 

Fol,  13.  Short  verses  as  at  fol.  7  and  8. 

Fol.  13.  (b)— 14.  Several  medical  and  other  recipes, 
among  which  this  curious  one:  "  To  knowe  yf  a  man 
be  sycke  wheather  shall  lyve  or  dye.  Take  great  nettle 
and  put  them  in  the  vryne  of  the  sicke,  and  lett  them 
stand  all  night,  and  yf  y'  herbe  be  grene  as  they  were 
when  they  were  put  in,  lie  shall  live  for-y'  sicknes,  but 
yf  ye  herbe  be  deade  he  shall  dye." 

Fol.  14 — 19.  Several  short  poetical  peices,  of  which 
I  select,  as  best, 

"  Of  fained  frynds. 

"  As  bees  in  meadowes  thickc  do  swarme. 
When  clade  theye  are  with  flowres. 
So  heapes  of  frynds  thow  shajt  not  want. 
As  long  as  welthe  endures : 

But,  as  the  bees  the  meades  forsake. 

When  winter  cold  drawes  one, 
So  yf  thy  goods  do  chaunce  to  faile. 

Thy  trynds  will  all  be  gone."     Fol.  16. 

"  Off  Wyddowers. 

"  A  wyddower  who  is  once  become. 
And  sekes  a  second  wyffe,' 
Is  lyke  to  hyme  who  from  shyppe  wracke, 
Agayne  dothe  venter  lyfFe, 

R  R  2  In 


6iz 

In  broken  sfaepe,  forgetting  clene 

The  danger  of  the  wayve; 
And  trusteth  styll  (as  once  before,) 

Good  fortune  maye  hyrae  save."  Fol.  17,  b. 

This  appears  to  be  borrowed  from  an  epigram  by  Sir 
Thomas  More : 

"  In  Digamos. 

"  Qui  capit  uxorem  defuncta  uxore  secundam, 
Naufragus  in  tumido  bis  natat  ille  freto." 

Epigk.  edit.  12°.  Lond.  l63S.  p.  53. 

Fol.  20,  23.  A  few  explanations  of  the  contractions 
usual  in  old  writings. 

Fol.  24.  "  The  copye  of  an  oration  made  and  pro- 
nounced by  Mr.  Pownde  of  Lyncolnes  Inne,  with  a 
brave  maske  owt  of  the  same  howse,  all  one  grealte 
horses  att  the  marriage  off  theyonge  eric  of  South  hamp-; 
ton  to  the  lorxl  Mountague's  dawghter,  abowtShrouetydq, 
1565."— T-Bolton  tells  us,  that  ''  HenrryWriothesley  suc^ 
ceeded  his  father  ^s  Earl  of  Southampton,  in  1550.  He 
married  Mary,  the  daughter  of  Antimony  Brown,  Vis-, 
count  Montague,  and  died  in  1581."  Extinct  Peerage^ 
page  245.  The,  present  MS.  enables  us  to  add  a  date  to 
Bolton's  account,  which,  in  its  turn,  corroborates  the 
authenticity  of  the  oration. 

Fol.  3Q,  b.  "  The  copye  of  an  oration  made  and  pro-, 
nounced  by  Mr.  Pownd  of  Lincolnes  June,  with  a  maske 
att  y=  marriage  of  y«  Earle  of  Sussex  syster  to  Mr.  Myld- 
maye  off  Lyncolne's  Jnne,  1566."*  This  is  somewhat 
longer  than  the  fornier,  and  as  it  shews  the  nature  of 
the  entertainments  provided  at  the  marriages  of  the 
higher  classes,  shall  be  noticed  more  particlilarly.  It 
commences : 

"  Lysten  ye  lords  and  ladyes  all. 
For  nowe,  lo,  J-  begynne : 
But  knowe  ye  fyrst  from  whence  we  come — 
Most  part  from  Lincolne's  Jnne. 

*  Frances  only  daughter  of  Henry  Ratcliffe,  Lord  Fitzwaller 
and  Earl  of  Sussex,  by  Eliz.  Howard,  one  of  the  daughters  of 
Thomas  the  second  Duke  of  Norfolk,  being  the  wife  of  Thomas 
MildmJiy,  parried  the  ancient  bafcny  of  Fjtzwa;lter  into  his  family. 
See  Bolton's  Extinct  Peerage,  p.  zgz  ;  and  Coll.  Peer.  IX.  44.9, 
new  edition. 

Where 


615 

~  Where  vnto  me  the  chaunced  of  latte, 
A  thinge  most  straunge  to  heire. 
And  to  yo'.  honours  what  it  was. 
In  fewe  it  shall  appears. 

'This  weke  last  past,  one  daye^  att  night, 

When  late  J  went  to  bedde. 
And  gaue  my  sdfe  to  quiet  rest, 

Reposinge  downe  my  hedde : 

J  was  no  sonere  layd  a  slepCj 

But  there  appered  to  me 
The  fowte  most  famouse  goddesse  5 

You  wotte  well  w^"".  they  bee. 

Faire  Vetius,  and  Diana  chast, 

Pallas,  and  Juno  to, 
W'"'  in  my  dreame  ama^de  me  muche> 

As  suche  a  sight  might  do. — " 

The  poetj  as  may  well  be  supposed,  was  not  a  little 
alarmed  at  the  celestial  company  be  found  himself  com- 
pelled to  entertain  ;  and  not  knowing,  as  he  says,  how  he 
might  salute  them,  he  fell  down  at  their  feet.  Whilst 
in  this  humble  posture,  his  sole  idea  was  to  learn  for 
what  purpose  the  goddfesses  had  descended  from  their 
celestiaf  abodes,  when,  very  kindly,  they  condescended 
to  relieve  his  curiosity ,  by  declaring  the  object  of  their 
mission : 

"  Jn  voyce  humane  they  tould  me  straight. 
The  cause  why  downe  they  came; — 
There  is,  q'''.  they,  a  nimphe  of  oors, 
A  wyght  of  wortbye  fame, 

A  starre  in  dede  in  all  respects, 

Accordinge  to  here  lynej 
W"".  KAiirAND  rayes  of  bewlie's  beames. 

So  gallantlye  to  shyne, 
That  from,  a  clypfe  of  burhinge  goflld. 

It  semethe  tfr  dyscend, 
W"".  such  a  bryght  reflexion. 

As  Phebus  scarce  can  lefld 

From  his  angelicall  fac6  y''  like, 
When  it  is  clere&t  to  see, 
nede  not  tell  he»e  name  q^*.  they 
She  is  well  knowen  to  the. 

R  K  3  Create 


6i4 

Create  fame  goes  of  her  itiarriage  daye 
,  Nowe  to  be  nere  at  hand. 

And  of  yo'.-  house  here  husband  is. 
As  we  do  vnderstand. 

And  J,  q^".  Pallas,  knowe  him  wellj^ 

A  tryme  younge  man  in  dcde;- 
As  MYLDE  by  natare  as  the  mave, 
'  And  one  y'  wyll  excede 

Jn  all  respects,  for  wise  he  is. 
Well  lerned,  and  of  harte. 
When  anye  Cowrage  shuld  be  shewed 
To  playe  y'=  manlye  parte." 
After  these,  and  some  other  praises  of  the  pair  whose 
nuptials  were  about  to  be  solemnized,  Minerva  informs 
the  poet  that  he  is  fixed  on  as  ambassador  "  once  more" 
to  congratulate  them   on  the  happy  occasion;  and  she 
here  alludes  to  some  services  of  the  same  nature  which 
Mr.  Pbwnd  had  before  performed. 

"  For  Pallas'  sake,  whose  knight  you  were, 
Yf  you  remenlbre  well,. 
When  cownte  Philos- was  yo'.  name,  i 

The  TemplerS  yet  could  tell. 

And  greys'  Jnne  can  not  since  forgette, 

Yf  wytnesses  dyd  nede; 
Howe  then  you  conquered  Envye  cleane  : 
They  joyed  in  the  dede." 
The  chosen  messenger  of  the  deities,  upon  hearing  the 
distinguished  office  he  was-  called  on  to  perform,  would 
have  declined  the  task,  fearing  his  inabihty  to  do  justice 
to  the  merits  of  those  he  had  to  address,  but  his  scruples 
were  soon  overcome  by  the  proniise  of  inspiration  from- 
his  heavenly  mistresses.     Upon  this,  Venus    "  stepped 
fourthe,"  and  the  poem  then  proceeds  with  a  very  elabo- 
rate description  of  her  charms  and  person. 

"  Here  fore  hedde  was  lyke  cristall  cleare. 
Well  bewtyfyed  to  see. 
Here  heare  lyke  wyer  of  bumynge  gold; 
It  seemed  so-  to  me." 

It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  this  goklen  hair  is 
represented  as  the  more  engaging  because  it  was  "  most 
finely  fryzeled  vppe,"  but  the  poet  accounts  for  it  by 

telling 


6i5 

telling  us  that  its  roughness  formed  a  beautiful  contrast 
with 

"■  The  smothenes  6f  here  sylken  skynne." 

At  the  end  of  this,  poetical  portrait,  the  goddess,  we 
learn,  delivered  a  golden  apple  to  the  messenger,  and 
says, 

"  From  Juno  and  Minerva  bothe. 

This  gyft  was  gyven  me. 

By  Parys,  when  he  iudged  y'  J 

Was  fairest  of  y=  three. 

And  here  y=  word  is  wrytten  in, 

W'^'*  signifyeth  as  muche : 
Lo,  (detur  pulchriori,)  tell 

His  seritdnce  then  was  suche, 

A  fytter  token  haue  J  not. 

To  send  vnto  this  dame. 
Then  this,  q  she;  hold,  beareit  hefe. 

And  greet  her  in  my  nanie. 

For,  lycke  as  Parys  then  sawe  lione, 

W'^''  was  so  fayre  as  J, 
So,  she  is  fairest  where  she  goes. 

Of  all  the  co~panye." 

But  this  oration,  as  it  is  termed,  gives  us  a  piece  of  in- 
telligence not  uninteresting  ;  and  shews  how  highly  Mr. 
Mildmay  and  his  bride  were  honoured,  since  it  is  very 
evident  from  what  follows,  that  Elizabeth  herself  was 
present  at  the  nuptials.  He  tells  the  lady,  that  perhaps 
she  feels  repugnance  at  accepting  the  gifts,  since 

■  you  do  thinke  J  flatter  you. 


For  y'  J  do  amisse. 

To  geue  it  you,  whyle  all  men  see, 

A  fayrere  nowe  in  place. 
But,  as  for  y'  [  wyll  appeale, 

For  pardon  to  here  gracej 

J  must  suppose  she  is  not  here, 

As  thowghts  (we  saye)  be  free. 
And  then  J  do  here  grace  no  wronge. 

No  fad  te  there  is  in  me. 

R  R  4  J  do 


6i4 

J  do  but  my  conTission,, 

W'^''  i  may  not  transgress©. 
For  seynge  y'  I  came  from-y^  gods, 

Nawe  J  carie  do  no  less©. 

But  lyke  a  messenger  to  shewe. 

What  they  dyd  byd  me  saye. 
But  this  had  not  bene  sent  to  you, 

(That  knowe  you.  by  y'  waye,) 

Yff  so  it  had  bepn«i  knowen  before^ 

That  suchq.a  rqyall  state. 
Would  haue  been.^  present  hesrej  but  nowe 

I  taulke  of  it  to  late. 

Thtnke  y'  you  baug  it  yet  by  chauijce, 

And  not  so  mijphe  by  ryght. 
For  due  it  wqre  men  see  to,  whom,. 

Except  men  lacke  theire  sight. 

,        And  what  disgrace  is  th^t  to  you  i 
No,  no,;  tbe  brightes,t  starse 
Js  darkened  when  the  spnne  dothe  sjiyne  : 
Theire  beames  do  dyffer  farre." 

Compliments  like  these  could  hav«  been  addressed  to* 
no  person  but  the  ipajden  Qjieen- 

When  Venus  had  bestowed  Het  present,,  Juno  ap- 
proaches the  "  bachelere,"  and  perceiving  the  agitstioii- 
he  felt  at  her  august  presence,  cheered  him  with  the 
kindest  assurances  of  favour  and  protection. 

«  And  howe  looge  lynger-yoo,  quoth  she, 
\n  this  ^ame  single  lyffe? 
A  tyoie-  theire  is  >sfhen  to  be  free> 
And  tyme  to  take  a  wyfFe." 

After  promising  to  assist  him  in  the  choice  of  a 
"  faithfull  fair,"  Juno  displays  her  offering,  whtcR  was 
a  splendid  picture  of  her  own  peacock,  given,  as  she 
says,  to  induce  all  nymphs,  when  theysee  the  tail  of  the 
bird 

"  To  haue  most  eyes  uppon  them  selves, 
For  takinge  greatest  h'eede." 

Minerva  ne55,t  delivers  b.er  shield  with,  the;  Medusa's 
head,  which  she  desires  the  bride  to  present  to  her  hiiS- 

and, 


6ij 

feanU,  and  for  hetown  acceptance,  the  goddess  sends  her 
picture  in  token  of  her  afFection  aiad  favour. 

"  Go,  gaytbe  she,  with  this  gyft  of  myne 
A,  pre3ent  in  here  prayse. 
Afiid  sOj  good  ladye,  take  it  you  . 
'  With  manye  happye  dayes." 

The  p<jet  then,  awakens,  finds  tfee  goddeasea.fiown,  bivt 
the  presejats  surrounding  bins.  He  immediately  rises 
afTid  betakes  himself 

"  To  make  some  kynd  of  speacihe  for  fibisj, 
la  mytre  or  in  prose." 

How  far  he  has  sueceeded  in  his  attempt  has  been  al- 
ready seen. 

The  conclusion  is  of  Irttle  importance; — after  inform- 
ing the  company  that  his  companions  are  the  followers^ 
qf  Minerva,  and  the  supporters  of  virtue  and  learnings 
he  requests  the  fair,  ladies  and  noble  dames  "  to  maske" 
with  the  gentlemen  as  a  reward  for  their  exertions,  and, 
wishing  the  newly  married  couple  every  happiness  and 
blessing  that  wedlock  bestows,  and  merit  deserves,  he; 
concludes  his  oration :. 

"  Yet  in  your  ioyes  to  jjoye  the  Hiofe> 
J-  pray-  too,  lyke  your  frynd. 
That  God  may  bkse  your  fruiytfull  sedc. 
And  thus  I  m^ke  an  ende." 

FoU  38—4.1.  A  dfiSiQ^iption  of  several  religious  sects  ?  ' 
l}ie  donalists,  anabaptiatSj  &q. 
■  F0L43,,  44.  Two  ballads,  t)egi,nning 
1,.     ''  Shall  distaoc*  paift  oup  1qu&, 

Qr  daylye  choyse  so  chauoge,.. 
Shall  spryghts  benethe,  or  bodycs  aboue. 
Have  powre  to  make  vs  straunge?— &:c. 

2.      "  Ffayne  wold  J  haue  a  pretye  thinge. 
To  gev^p  vnto  my  ladye ; 
I  meane  no  hurt,  J  meane  no  harnae. 

But  as  pretye  a  thinge  as  may  be — "  &c. 

This  last  is-  to  be  found,  with  some  variations,  in> 
Evans's  Colleetion.  ^ 

Fol.  44,  (b)  'f  Verses  made  by  the  Queue's  Mati*." 
See  Puttenham's  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  by  Ha&lewood, 
page  xii. 

Fol.  45.  Aglossary  of  words,  beginning  with  the  let- 
ters 


6i8 

fers  A  and  B.  from  which  the  following  are  those  only 
not  commonly  known : 

"■  Abject,  forsake.  Ambage,  circumstance. 

Affectation,  cariosit>-.  Animadversion,  counsel. 

Alacrity,  mirth.  Anchibtion,  frustration." 
Amaze,  fear.  , 

'  After  several  folios  left  blank,  or  with  a  word  her©  and 
there,  which  seems  to  have  been  an  index  to  some  book, 
the  MS.  concludes  with 

"  Costs  in  the  escheker  of  my  ladye  abbesse  of  Ambres- 
burye  for  maykinge  quitte  of  here  fraunches  in  the  Cont"  of 
Wyiles." 

P.  B. 

%  A  newe  Booke  called  the  Shippe  of  safegarde,  wryt- 
ten  ly  G.  B.*  Anno  1569.  Imprinted  at  London  hi/ 
IV.  Seres.  I2ma.  in  eights,  extends  to  F  ij. 

The  above  initials  remain  unapplied,  and  ihe  poem 
to  which  they  are  prefixed  is  now,  for  the  first  time,  in- 
troduced to  ihe  knowledge  of  modern  readers.  By  the 
dedication,  as  will  be  presently  seen,  the  author  de- 
scribes himself  as  brother-in-law  to  "Mistresse  Phillyp 
Darell  and  Mistresse  Fraunces  Darell,  of  the  house  of 
Scotney;"  a  family  that  obtained  particular  attention  in 
the  researches  of  Hasted  for  ihe  History  of  Kent,  f  though 
that  work  does  not  supply  any  thing  conclusive  towards 
discovering  the  name'  of  our  poet.  Thomas  Darell, 
whose  lands  were  disgavelled  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the 
Sixth,  was  twice  married  j  first,  to  a  daughter  of  Hedde, 

*  The  sa'me  initials  were  prefixed  to  a  work  called  "  Be<ware 
the  Cat"  composed  temp.  Edward  VI.  whitii  lieing  levelled  agaii*«t 
the  popish  shifts,  was  for  a  time  obscured  ;  as  the  introductory 
■verses  express.  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  a  copy  of  this  tract, 
and  am  doubtful  if  it  could  be  by  the  same  writer. ,  It  is  mentioned 
by  Herbert,  p.  1238,  who  gives  the  date  1584.,  but  in  the  Bib. 
PDetifla,'p.  ug,  it  is  1561. 

t  See  also  Stemraata  Chicheleana,  No.  108,  p.  6+,  by  which  it 
apj)ea.rs  thatBarnabyjGooge  had  seven  sons  snd  two  daughters, 
which  hasnoc  been  hitherto  noticed  among,  the  few  circumstances 
collected  of  him.  His  son  Robert  was  elected  a  Kentish  Fellow 
cf  All  Souls,  Oxford,  1586,  See  Cens.  Lit.  11.  ziz,  andTheaiir. 
Poet.  Anglic.  1x6. 

by 


6i^ 

by  whom  he  had  an  only  daughter,  married  to  John 
Brookes;  and  secondly,  to  Mary,  daughter  of  Roydon, 
of  East  Peckham,  by  whom  he  had  one  son  and  four 
daughters,  of  whom  it  is  only  necessary  to  notice  two: 
Maria,  married  to  Barnaby  Goughe,  *  [or  Googe]  Gent. 
•  and  Frances,  who  married  Robert  Green,  of  Bobbing, 
Gent.  Upon  these  slender  maiteriak  ingenuity  may  easily 
advance  a  double  argument:  first,  the  presumption  that  our 
poet  was  a  relative  of  the  above  John  Brookes,  and  married 
into  the  family ;  second,  that  he  was  Barnaby  Googe, 
and  reversed  his  initials.  Conjectural  as  these  points 
are,  the  second,  though  somewhat  strained  by  inversion, 
iappears  the  most  tenable  from  the  fact  of  Googe  being 
brother-in-law  to  Frances;  however,  it  fails  in  being 
supported  by  a  "  Mistresse  Phillyp,"  as  not  any  of  the 
family  is  mentioned  with  that  name;  though  that  cir- 
cumstance might  arise  from  her  dying  young;  and  the 
dedication  speaks  of  their  "  yong  and  tender  yearcs."t 

As  a  poet,  he  is  not  without  merit,  and  may  be  par- 
ticukrissed  for  unusual  smoothness  of  versification.  He 
was  probably  well  received  by  contemporaries,  which 
is  proved  by  being  one  of  those  noticed  by  Webb  in  his 
extremely  rare'  Discourse  of  English  Poetry,  1586  ; 
where  also  may  be  found  the  name  of  Dareli.  J     That 

register 

•  So  Hasted ;  however  the  name  of  the  poet  was  variously  spelt. 
There  is  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Phelps  the  Editor's  presentation 
copy  of  Chaloner's  De  Republic  a  Anglornjm,  1579;  at  the  top  of 
the  title  page  is  written  "  To  Mr.  Barnabee  Googe,  W.  M."  and 
at  the  bottom  "  Barnabee  Goche,  ex  dono  Gulielmi  Malim,  1579  ; 
sctatis  39." 

t  It  must  be  taken  for  granted  that  G.  B.  was  the  husband  of 
one  of  the  daughters  of  Tho.  Dareli.  The  omission  in  the  pedi- 
grees of  such  a  daughter  and  such  an  husband  is  but  oi  little 
weight  in  itself.  But  I  incline  to  the  ingenious  conjecture  of 
Mr.  Haslewood  that  G.  B.  were  the  initials  of  Barnaby  Googe 
reversed,  on  the  ground  of  Googe's  literary  character;  and  his 
habit  of  alluding  to  his  Kentish  alliances.     B. 

\  The  following  are  the  words  of  Webb — "  One  gentleman 
notwithstanding  among  them  I  may  not  ouerslyppe  30  farre 
reacheth  his  fiirae,  and  so  worthy  is  he,  if  hee  haue  not  already, 
to  weare  the  lavvrell  wreathe,  Master  George  Whetstone,  a  man 
singularly  well  skyld  in  this  faculty  of  Poetrie :  to  him  I  will 
ioyne  Anthony  Munday,  an  earnest  traueller  in  this  arte,  and  in 

whose 


62,0 

register  was  all  that  Eitson  met  with  respecting  both  of 
them,  which  may  excuse  the  present  article  being  ex- 
tended beyond  usual  limits,  to  afford  a  knowledge  of, the 
genius  and  merit  of  a  poet  whose  laurels  have  unusually 
withered  on  the  brow  of  lime.     It  is  dedicated 

"  To  hys  verie  good  sisters  Mistresse  Phillyp Darell,  and Mis^- 
tresse  Fraunces  Darellj  of  ihehonse  of  Scotney.  Often  with 
mysfelfe  considering  (my  nowne  good  sisters)  your  vertuous  and 
well  disposed  minds,  in  these  your  yong  and  tender  yeares,  I 
thought  it  meete  (as  well  to  shewe  my  good  will  towards  yoii> 
as  to  satisfie  your  well  inclined  afFectio"s)  to  take  some  trauaile 
in  finding  out  such  matter,  as  peither  I  might  acco~pt  my  timef 
Vainly  spent  in  wryting,  nor  you  yours  euill  employed  in  read- 
ing. Debating  thus  a"whyle  with  myselfe  what  matter  myght 
best  herein  serue  both  our  turnes,  I  was  thorowly  resolued 
with  as  much  diligence  as  I  could  to  make  some  discourse  vpon 
the  perfite  estate  of  a  true  christian,  an  estate  aboue  all  others 
most  happie  and  worthy,  if  it  were  as  well  renowmed  for  lyfe,  . 
as  it  is  reuerent  for  name,  and  perceyuitlg  the  lyues  of  Chris- 
tians in  these  dayes  so  farre  differing  from  the  sinceritie  that 
is  required  in  a  christian,  professour,  1  gaue  for  title  to  lay 
booke  the  counterfeyt  Christian,  wherein  I  declared  the  great 
disorders  of  this  our  lyrae,  as  r.lsp  the  wonderfuU  vertues  and 
puritie  of  lyfe,  that  gloriously  shyned  among  the  first  and 
auncient  professours  of  Christ,  which  Booke  beyng  encreased 
to  some  largenesse  of  volume,  and  euen  almost  readie  to  be 
publyshed  vnder  the  patronage  and  protection  of  your  two 
names,  by  yll  fauourd  misfortune  perished.  Wherwithall 
sorothins;  discontented  that  both  I  should  thus  bee  defirawded 
of  the  effect  of  my  long  trauayle,  and  you  of  that  which  so 
long  and  so  earnestly  I  ment  you  :  With  a  scars'e  quiet  mind  I 
hastily  began  this  volume,  which  (bicause  of  the  dau~gers  of 
this  worlde,  whereby  the  soulc  enclosed  in  the  barke  of  sinfull 
fleshe  wyth  great  basard  passeth)  I  named  the  Ship  of  safe- 
garde,  a  ship  but  rudely  furnished,  and  God  knows  symply 
rygged,  as  the  great  habte  and  small  tyme  enforced,  wanting 


whose  name  I  haue  seene  very  excellent  workes,  among  which 
surely,  the  most  exquisite  vaine  of  a  witty  poeticall  heade  is 
shewed  in  the  sweete  sobs  of  shepheardes  and  nymphes :  a  worke 
■well  worthy  to  be  viewed,  and  to  be  esteemed  as  very  rare  poetrie. 
With  these  I  may  place  John  Graunge,  Knyght,  VVyhnott, 
Darrell,  F.  C.  F.  K.  G.  B.  and  many  other,  whose  names  come 
not  nowe  to  my  remembraunce."  Rex'.  c  iiij. 

both 


6^1 

both  strength  of  tymber  and  conalynesse  of  proporcJon.,  two 
euydent  signes  of  an  vnskilfuU  workeman.  Notwithstandin"- 
howsocuer  it  be,  I  dedicate  it  vnto  you  as  an  earnest  token  of 
my  good  wyll  towardes  you,  not  doubting  but  >ou  will  so  ac- 
cept it,  whervnto  I  had  also  thought  to  haue  added  (bicause  I 
know  you  delight  in  stories)  the  lyues  and  actes  of  dyuers  men 
,in  the  primitiue  church,  whereof  I  began  with  one  or  twoj  but 
bicause  they  were  tedious,  and  my  leisure  but  little,  I  left  ihem 
and  proceeded  no  farther.  God  poure  vpon  yon  long  and  pros- 
perous yeres  on  earth,  and  after  your  passage  ftom  this  vale  of 
■wretchednesse,  euerlasting  rest  and  ioy  in  the  kingdome  of 
Heauen.  From  London  the  fourtenth  of  Februarie.  Your 
louing  brother  in  lawe.     G.  B." 

Some  monitory  lines  "  to  the  reader,"  bid  him  tread 
the  "  path  that  monnteth  vp  to  place  where  God  doth 
liue,"  and  that  the  pleasures  thereby  enjoyed  far  exceed 
those  of  the  world.  The  Ship  of  Safeguard  follows, 
which  is  an  allegorical  poem,  founded  upon  the  life  of 
man ;  and  extends  as  far  as  219  octave  stanzas.  It  thus 
commences : 

"  The  wandring  wight  that  in  the  raging  seas 
Wyth  sayling  barke  doth  seke  the  happy  port. 
No  leysure  hath  to  giue  himselfe  to  ease: 
No  time  he  findes  wherein  to  play  or  sport ; 
Eche  long  delay,  eche  calme  doth  him  displease; 
Hym  listeth.not  to  lynger  in  such  sort; 
In  nothing  ioyes,  in  nothing  pleasure  findes, 
Saue  in  the  blastes  of  prosperous  happie  windes. 

His  carefull  braine  is  busied  euermore. 

In  vewyng  well  his  compasse  and  his  carde; 

And  minding  still  what  daungers  lye  before. 

What  swelling  sands,  what  rocks,  what  hauens  barde, 

Wyth  skilful!  head  he  s;ekes  the  safest  shore. 

And  th.etherwarde  doth  sayle  with  good  regarde, , 

Brings  home  his  Bark  through  storms  &  tepests  great^ 

To  happie  port  and  long  desired  seat. 

The  vnskilfull  head,  and  rechelesse  ydle  minde, 

Contrarie  wise  doth  giue  himselfe  to  rest. 

Not  fearing  stormes  nor  boystrous  blasts  of  winde, 

But  in  the  middest  of  daungers  feareth  least ; 

And  thinkes  the  hauen  happily  to  finde. 

When  stormes  are  past,  and  tempest  cleerely  ceast. 

Thus 


6z2 

Tlias  guyded  euill  his  sliyp  on  rocks  doth  fall, 
AnJ  castes  awaye  both  fra)'ght  and  foole  and  all. 
Euen  so  the  will  and  fansie  vayne  of  man. 
That  through  this  worWe  his  painefull  passage  makes. 
Who  ought  to  seeke  by  all  the  meanes  he  caiij 
Through  daungers  deepe,  and  lothsome  lovvring  lakes. 
That  h;ippie  pore  tor  which  his  course  began  ; 
For  which  eche  carefuU  minde  his  trauaile  takes; 
In  thousand  hannes  and  thousand  daungers  prest, 
Doth  giue  himsejfe  to  carelesse  ease  and  rest. 

Regarding  not  the  hasard  of  himselfe. 
Nor  taking  heede  his  fleshly  foyst  to  guide. 
Full  fraught  with  sin  and  care  of  worldly  pelfe. 
Makes  no  account  of  wether,  winde  or  tide. 
But  blindly  strikes  hiinselfe  on  euerie  shelfe. 
And  in  the  flouds  of  mischiefe  wanders  wide. 
Till  on  the  rocks  He  desperately  dotb  light 
And  loseih  all  for  lacke  of  guiding  right. 

Within  the  seas  of  fonde  affection  blinde. 
That  through  the  world  in  euerie  place  doth  flowe, 
Sayies  euerie  wight  that  liueth  here  by  kinde. 
And  rannes  the  race  that  faneie  forth  doth  blowe, 
And  kepes  the  eonrse  that  pleaseth  best  his  minde. 
With  sayies  full  thwackt  with  winde  and  lus<ie  showe. 
But  of  ten  thousand  that  thus  doe  brauely  fleete, 
Scarse  ten  at  length  doe  with  the  hauen  meete. 

The  baijeri  faire  I  meane  of  perfite  ioye-j 
Where  chiefest  pleasure  hath  hir  hiding  place, 
Where  ioye- surmounts,  where  ,griefe  can  not  anoye, 
Where  Hues  the  king  of  euerlasting  grace. 
That  well  rewardes  eehe  minde  that  doth  employe 
Them  selfe  in  trauaile  to  attaine  that  place : 
And  doth  condemne  to  euerlasting  paine. 
All  those  that  -him  forsake  for  pleasures  vaine. 

The  seas  be  rough,  the  passage  full  of  paine. 

The  daungers  great,  the  iourney  large  and  long. 

The  pilots  yll,  the  coast  is  nothing  plaine. 

The  force  but  weake,  the  enimies  stout  and  strong. 

The  lets  a  number  that  labour  to  detains, 

And  flattring  showes  that  leades  the  maister  wrong  : 

The  streites  of  Marrocke  are  not  halfe  so  yll, 

Ne  race  of  Britaine,  ne  Charybdis,  nor  Scyll." 

To 


623 

To.  guide  oa  the  voyage,  the  poet  describes  the  neces- 
sity of  obtaining  help  by  invocation  of  the  sacred  spirit 
that  regulates  all  things.  The  first  danger  is  the  rock  of 
vain-glory  and  pride: 

"  Within  these  seas,  when  first  we  enter  in. 
When  first  to  winde  our  sayles  committed  bee, 
Whcft  pleasantly  on  calmed  streames  we  swim, 
A  mightie  rocke  lo  streight  at  hand  we  see 
Of  massie  gold,  all  decked  and  garnisht  trim. 
That  doth  allure  the  eye  of  eche  degree; 
The  compasse  great  with  corners  out  doth  lie. 
The  heigth  whereof  doth  reach  the  starrie  skjie. 
A  stately  rocke  beset  with  diamondes  fairp, 

And  pouldred  round  about  with  rubles  red, 
Where  emralds  greene  doe  glister  in  the  aire. 
With  mantell  blew  of  saphy res  ouer  spred : 
Where  wants  no  stone  that  nature  can  repaire, 
Nopearle  of  price  nor  Jewell  polished. 
Another  heauen  for  the  time  it  seemes. 
And  oft  for  heauen  foolish  men  it  deemes. 

With  swelling  sands  it  lies  encompast  round. 
And  many  a  ragged  reach  it  sendeth  out. 
Whereby  full  many  a  thousand  haue  bene  drown'd 
Yet  neuer  cease  they  for  to  saile  about. 
In  gasing  still  vpon  this  gorgeous  ground, 
Apprdching  neerer,  not  ha.uing  any  doubt. 
Till  on  the  sands  with  hastie  course  they  slide. 
And  lose  themselues  vpon  this  piere  of  pride. 

No  greater  daunger  shalt  thou  lightly  finde. 
That  more  mishap  and  mischiefe  more  doth  make. 
Than  this,  that  pluckes  away  the  saylers  minde. 
And  causeth  him  contrarie  course  to  take; 
Who  forward  puft  with  fonde  vain  glorious  winde. 
His  perfite  way  doth  vtterly  forsake. 
Till  on  the  sands  his  keale  here  happes  to  knocke. 
And  dasheth  all  a  sunder  on  this  rocke. 

A  wretched  rocke  that  mounting  to  the  skie, 
(Contenting  not  himselfe  with  earthly  spoylc) 
Once  ouerthrew  the  angels  sitting  hie. 
And  cast  them  headlong  from  their  happy  soyle. 
To  darkest  place  where  wayling  now  they  lie. 
With  griefe  ashamed  of  so  great  a  foy'e. 

The 


6^4 

The  chiefe  estates  and  princes  hefe  belo*, 

Haue  eke  good  cause  this  daungefous  place  to  ktlo* 

The  raging  wanes  dolh  belching  vpward  cast,     _ 
The  wretched  wraclces  that  round  about  doe  fleete. 
The  silken  s'ayles  and  glistering  golden  mast. 
Lies  all  to  lorne  and  troden  vnder  feete> 
llie  witlesse  throng  of  women  swarming  fiM, 
Like  parrals  pkd  in  garments  farre  vnmeete> 
With  scarfes  and  fethers  like  to  souldiers  drest. 
With  painted  heare  and  sbamelesse  bared  brestj 

A  mofistroLis  soft  of" inen  there  shall  thou  see. 
Not  men,  but  deuils  sure  that  beare  the  face 
Of  men,  that  iieiiercan  contented  bee 
With  comly  garments  meete,  but  (voyde  of  grate> 
Forgetting  quite  their  auncient  olde  degree. 
To  womenchauoged,  tlieir  manly  shapes  deface 
With  slender  wastes,  as  maydens  most  doe  vse } 
And  frisled  heare  like  harlots  of  the  stewes. 

With  countnance  coy,  and  forhead  forced  hie. 
And  staring  top  as  lately  frayed  with  sprites, 
In  rich  attire,  to  f«ede  the  gasers  eie. 
That  euerrnore  in  glistring.  sho^^  delights, 
A  sort  of  beasts  whose  chiefest  loy  doth  Ije, 
In  decking  vp  themselues  for  wondriog  sights. 
In  yellow,  red,  and  purple  to,be  seene,    , 
Sometimes  like  fooles  in  gpwnes  of  gawdy  greene. 

As  paiiited  tombes  that  stinch  arid  filth  contalne, 
And  Arras  faire  that  rotten  wals  doth  hide. 
So  doe  these  foOlfis  ■ft'ith  all  their  garments  vaine. 
And  fresh  attire  drest  vp  in  pompe  and  pride. 
Nought  else  but  beastly  mindes  and  doltish  braine, 
Faire  couered  keepe,  which  filthie  else  were  spide, 
For  vnderneath  their  garments  glistering  braUe, 
Jjies  mindes  corrupt  as  rotten  bones  in  graue. 

A  sinful!  Sort  that  wholy  spend  their  life. 
In  setting  out  their  stinking  carcasse  here 
Who  night  and  daye  doe  passe  with  care  add  strife. 
In  studying  how  tjieylairest  may  appeare. 
And  wearie  soone  of  fashions  olde  and  rife, 
Pisguise  themstlues  in  newe  disguised  geare, 
As  not  consisting  of  their  proper  minde. 
But  chaunging  still  as  phaunged  things  they  finde. . . ;. 

Therfore 


625 

Therfore  take  heede  that  in  these  seas  dost  ssylc, 

Let  not  this  value  deliglit  deceiue  thy  rhintle. 

But  rather  striue  against  it  4.0  prcuayle. 

And  seelt  the  chancU  of  lowlynesse  to  finde. 

Which  when  thou  gettest,  no  tempest  can  thee  quayle, 

Thon  needest  not  feare  no  storme  nor  chaungiiig  winde. 

For  there  is  harbrow  safe  for  eutie.  wight. 

That  in  this  haj: py  chanell  haps  to  light. 

This  dauiiger  past,  and  left  aloofe  behin.de 
Before  thine  eyes  doth  straight  againe  appeare, 
Afowle  deformed  pile  and  hasard  blinde, 
That  castes  awaye  all  such  as  tranaile  jieare, 
A  lothsome  rocke  and  burtfull  to  the  nainde. 
All  ouergrowne  with  mosseand  rustie  gearc, 
Deformed  to  the  eye,  yet  doth  allure 
Of  earthly  men  the  earthly  mitides  vnpute," 

This  proves  the  rock  of  Avarice^  where 

"  Vpon  the  sands  great  caskets  heaped  lie. 
And  oofers  stuft  with  euerie  kind  of  coyne, 
S6raped  vp  by  fraude  and  filthy  vsurie ; 
Now  here,  novy  there,  wlieresoeuer  they  could  piirloyn 
Ily  force,  by  fraude,  or  any  villanie. 
Of  rich,  of  poore,  of  courtier  ot  of  doyne. 
They  wey  not  where  nor  how  they  doe  it  get, 
Fdr  all  is  fish  with  them  that  comes  to  net 

God  hath  himselfe  declared  to  you  beTore, 
■  That  eucn  as  slow  rieh  men  to  heauen  flic. 
And  enter  in  as  hardly  at  the  dore. 
As  doth  the  camell  passe  a  needles  eie: 
Your  burden  great  extorted  from  the  poorey 
Doth  l?eepe  you  downe,  yqu  can  not  mount  so  hie, 
The  path  is  narrow,  the  gates  are  very  straight. 
You  can  not  enter  with  so  great  a  waight. 

Your  factors  lie  not  tITere  to  aunswere  you 
Yom-  bill  of  debt;  nor  no  such  other  geare; 
Nor  by  exchaunge  you  can  haue  nothing  due; 
Your  double  vsance  is  but  single  there, 
Tlie  trade  is  chaunged,  th.e. world  is  altered  new; 
Your  toyle  for  gaine  sliall  purchace  homely  che^re ; 
Your  ten  in  hundreds  will  ?c'arcely  then  amount, 
When  for  your  dealin^i  you  shall  be  calldc.  to  coctnt," 

yoL.  II.  s  s,  ll»re 


626 

Hereijask  the  serpents  of  Envy  and  Detraction,  whose 
venomous  tongues  have  not  stayed  at  assailing  the  elder 
prophets  and  the  Redeemer;  Against  Slander  and  Malice 
the  voyager  is  fitly  warned,  and  the  poet  advises 

'*  — thou  that  seekest  the  happieheaijenly  seate, 
Keepe  not  this  course  but  well  therof  beware ; 
■VVith  spitefull  tongue  doe  thou  nd  man  intreate. 
Of  others  faults  haue  rieuef  to  much  care  ; 
But  of  thine  owne  that  liuest  in  daumgers  great. 
Such  toyle  is  much  and  well  thou  raayst  it  spare; 
Of  others  faults  what  needst  thou  babble  so> 
When  thuu  thy  selfe  hast  vices  many  mo. 

Let  no  man's  life  by  thee  defaced  bee. 
Take  not  awaye  that  thou  canst  not  restore, 
And  looke  what  faults  in  others  thou  doest  sed. 
Take  hede  that  in  thyselfe  it  be  not  more; 
Report  not  yllj  speake  well  of  eche  degree; 
Encrease  not  griefe,  but  rather  salue  the  sofc, 
Good  wordes  of  all  men  gayneth  laude  and  praysej 
Wh(jre  as  yll  tongues  are  counted  castawayes , 

Hoyse  vp  thy  sSyles,  and  giiie  them  to  the  windej 
These  daiingers  past,  the  fev^er  do  remaine ; 
Take  courage  good,  and  shew  thy  valiant  minde. 
And  wey  that  pleasure  foUowes  after  paine; 
As  after  (roubles  quiet  rest  we  finde. 
That  farre  surmounts  our  toyles  and  trauailes  vaine; 
For  who  so  shrinKes  with  painfull  things  to  meetCj 
Is  farre  vuworthy  for  to  taste  the  sweete." 

The  next  danger  arises  from  the  "  foule  great  flat,"  or 
plain  of  gluttony,  where  the  tables  are  spread  with  every 
luxury,  and 

"  About  these  dishes  round  attending  stand, 
Ech  vile  disease  that  may  be  namfed  or  found  j 
The  groning  gowte  with  shackled  foote  and  hand, 
That  scarse  can  Staye  frOm  falling  to  the  ground  3 
The  dropsie  pale  stands  shaking  on  the  sand. 
With  bellie  swolrie  that  yeeldes  a  hollowe  sound  j 
The  feuer  hote  sittes  gaping  here  for  winde. 
Whose  scorched  tongue  no  taste  in  meate  can  finde." 
Other  diseases  are  described  that   serve  to   "  make 
|>lefls^nt  game"  for  physicians;  and  Abstinence,  which 

they 


iViey  count  "  nature's  chiefest  frende,"  is  strongly  rom- 

mended   as   a    virtue   to   the    "  heavenly   n-iind." The 

mariner  is  next  warned  against  an  island,  appearing  like 
an  earthly  paradise,  where  the  air  sceiUed  above  "amber 
grece,"  wafts  the  heavenly  sounds  of  music. 

"  The  cliues  are  hie  and  ail  of  chrystall  shine, 
Vpon  the  top  whereof  in  order  growes 
Hie  hautie  trees  with  maiestie  deuine. 
That  glistiing  greene  farre  of  in  shadowes  showes; 
Theie  stately  stands  the  Joftie  lordlye  pine. 
With  ceders  placed  and  fifre  trees  set  in  rowes. 
Thick  groues  of  mirtels  comly  to  be  seene. 
With  couerts  close  of  pleasant  laurell  greene. 

Beyond  these  same  are  mountaines  rising  hie. 
Clad  ronnd  about  with  trees  of  diuerse  kinde. 
That  placed  in  order  touch  delight  the  eie. 
And  thither  draw  the  saylcrs  wandving  minde. 
Who  thinke  they  see  these  hilles  to  touch  the  skie, 
In  vewe  whereof  they  pleasure  great  doe  finde; 
There  round  about  in  euerie  place  below 
Faire  purple  roses  ioynde  with  jasmins  grow. 

In  e"-ierie  place  may  Beautie  there  be  scene; 
In  cucrie  place  is  pleasure  for  the  eie. 
Throughout  the  woods  and  pleasant  fbrrests  greene 
Great  flocks  of  birdes  of  euerie  sort  doe  flie. 
Of  colours  straunge  and  seldome  to  be  seene. 
That  sit  and  sing  vpon  the  branches  hie 
With  curious  note  and  skilfuU  melodic. 
Agreeing  all  in  perfite  harmonic. 

No  lothsorae  sight  doth  any  where  appeare, 

No  thing  disordred  any  kinde  of  waye; 

But  all  things  shining  there  with  beautie  cleare. 

Alluring  vnto  pleasuie  and  to  playe. 

That  they  that  once  doe  channce  to  trauaile  neare, 

Haue  neuer  minde  to  come  from  thence  a  waye; 

Suche  pleasure  streSghl  ihey  doe  conceyue  in  minde. 

As  no  where  else  saue  tlitre  they  thinke  to  finde." 

Round  this  island  are  "  shalis  of  mcrmayds  swym- 
mtng  here  and  there,"  whose  melody,  "  long  time  since 
and  many  years  ago,''  Ulys.ses  .determined  to  hear,  and, 
flotwithstanding  his  great  wisdom,  was  only  saved  by  the 

s   s  2  want 


6«8 

want  of  liberty.  The  island  forms  the  seat  of  lust,  and 
tie  queen,  wijh  Circean  power,  transforms  her  votaries 
into  animals.  '  No  danger  equals  this.  Not  Hercples 
alone  was  seduced,  but  ako  he  who  "  with  Vries  wife 
that  lay,  and  eke  his  sonne  that  further  ran  astray." 
'  The  next  danger-  scarcely  appears  above  the  surface  of 
the  water,  having  a  smoothly  polished  top,  which  does 
not  threaten  hazard," though  riiyriadls  have  been  lost 
thereon;  it  is  Heresy.  Here  stand  the  altars  of  idolatry 
raised  to  the  heathen  deities,  arid  the  author  fitly  bids  the 
mariner  "  let  Paule  thy  pilot  be  vpon  these  seas."  We 
next  conie  to  Hypocrisy,  the  description  of  which  is  a 
graft  from  the  pen  of  Chaucer. 

"  Another  daunger  lies  there  in  thy  way. 
That  seemeth  good  and  safe  vnto  the  cie, 
Whereat  a  number  great  of  ships  doe  stay, 
That  here  are  lost  or  put  in  ieoperdie ; 
With  colour  false  of  good  it  doth  betray. 
And  cloked  fairc  doth  cause  men  trauaile  bie. 
And  most  allures  such  men  as  seeke  for  fame  ;       ' 
Hypocrisie  this  mischiefe  hath  to  name ;     ^ 

A  recke  but  soft  and  simple  to  the  eie, 
That  pleaseth  much  the  minde  of  Worldlye  sightj 
AVhereas  disceyte  doth  closely  couered  lie, 
Wliich  hindrelh  men  from  tiauailing  aright ; 
The  place  is  large  and  riseth  something  bie, 
Vpon  the  top  whereof  in  open  sight,    ■- 
There  stands  an  image  couered  all  of  stone, 
■JThat  there  was  placed  many  yeares  agone! 

Which  image  here  I  would  describe  to  thee. 
But  that  long  since  it  hath  bene  painted  plains 
By  learned  Chaucer  that  gem  of  poetrie. 
Who  passed  the  reach  of  any  English  brainej 
A  follie  therefore  were.it  here  for  me 
To  touch  that  he  with  pencell  once  did  staine. 
Take  here  therefore  what  he  therof  doth  say, 
Writ  in  the  Romance  of  his  Roses  gaye. 

Another  thing  was  done  their  write. 
That  seemed'  like  an  Hypocrite, 
And  it  was  cleped  Pope  holye. 
That  ill  is  she  that  priuilye, 

Nc 


6^9 

Ne  spafeth  neuer  a  wicked  deede. 
When  men  of  hir  taken  none  heede. 
And  maketh  hir  outward  precious. 
With  pale  visage  and  pituous  j 
And  seemeth  a  simple  creature. 
But  there  nis  no  misaduenture. 
That  she  ne  thinketh  in  hir  courage, 
Full  like  to  hir  was  tliilk  image. 
That  maked  was  byt  hir  semblance; 
Slie  was  full  simple  of  countnancc. 
And  she  was  clothed  and  eke  shod> 
As  she  wtre  for  the  loue  of  God, 
Yonlden  to  religion. 
Such  seemed  hir  deubtibti, 
A  psalter  helde  she  fast  in  hartde, 
And  busily  She  gan  to  fonde, 
To  make  many  a  faint  prayer. 
To  God  and  to  his  saints  deare, 
Ne  she  was  gaye,  fresh  nor  ioiliffe, 
But  seemd  to  be  full  intentiffe 
To  good  workes  and  to  faire. 
And  thereto  she  had  on  a  hairej 
Ne  certes  she  was  fat  nothing. 
But  seemed  werie  fot:  fasting. 
Of  colour  pale  and  dead  was  s'hee, 
Fiom  hir  the  gates  aye  warned  bee 
Of  Paradyse  the  blissful!  place. 
For  such  folke  niaken  leane  their  grace. 
As  Christ  sayth  in  his  Eiiangile, 
To  get  tlieir  price  in  towne  a  while. 
And  for  a  little  gloria  vaine, 
They  lesen  God  and  eke  his  raigne. 

Thus  hath  the  golden  pen  of  Chaucer  old? 
The  image  plaine  descriued  to  the  eie. 
Who  passing  by  long  since  did  it  beholde. 
And  tooke  a  note  therof  aduisedly 
Vnto  his  fellowes  of  that  age  it  tolde. 
And  left  it  eke  for  his  posteritie. 
That  ech  man  passing  by  might  plainly  know 
The  perfite  substance  of  that  flaltring  show. 

The  greatest  dangers  being  past,  the  mariner  is  di- 
rected to  veer  the  sheetSj  haul  uji  the  mainsail,  advance 
the  tops,  hang  out  th?  flags,  cast  fear  away,  take  a  lusty 

s  s  3  heart, 


630 

heart,  revive  the  spirits,  and  cheer  the  mind.  The  lesser 
temptaiions  that  remain,  are  not  considered  as  able  to 
hurt  the  "  godly  carefull  minde."  These  are  briefly  de- 
scribed as  Blasphemy,  Cruelty,  Hatred,  Murder,  Theft, 
Sorcery,  Presumption,  and  Desperation. 

The  voyage  draws  to  a  conclusion ;  earnest  prayer  in- 
troduces peace,  love,  mercy,  patience,  £tnd  lively  faith. 

"  Remaiiietli  nothing  for  thee  nowe  befcinde. 
But  gracious  markes  that  leade  the  sayler  right; 
That  comforts  much  the  godly  verluous  minde. 
And  teacheth  them  to  finde  the  port  of  light; 
Passe  thou  by  these,  so  shaft  thou  surely  finde 
The  chiefest  succour  for  the  werie  sprite  ; 
For  who  so  runnes  by  these  shall  neuer  misse 
The  hauen  faire  of  euerlasting  bhsse. 

The  formost  of  these  sure  and  happie  guides 
Is  earnest  Prayer  that  giues  a  goodly  show. 
And  keepeth  safe  the  Barke  from  troublous  tides. 
That  moued  with  hellishe  tideb  contrarie  tiow  j 
In  safetie  here  the  wandring  vessell  rides, 
"Whatsoeuer  hap,  what  winde  soeuer  blow. 
Though  deuill,  world,  and  flesh  against  it  striue. 
Yet  vnder  sayle  it  safely  here  may  driue. 

A  thousand  happy  hands  may  here  be  seenc, 
Helde  vp  with  hart  vnfeyned  vnto  the  skies. 
Washed  in  the  waters  of  repentance  cleane. 
And  purged  pure  with  teares  of  weeping  eies  ; 
A  thousand  tongues  from  mindes  that  well  doe  meane 
Yeelde  vp  to  God  their  feruent  suites  and  cries ; 
At  morning,  noone  and  night  continuallye, 
Here  shall  thou  see  them  on  their  faces  lye. 

The  next  is  Peace,  a  quiet  happie  place, 
Where  as  no  strife  nor  rancor  can  be  found  j 
Rest  thou  thy  barke  within  this  roade  of  grace. 
And  trauaile  for  to  touch  vpon  this  ground ; 
They  alwayes  come  to  good  that  run  this  race; 
Thou  needest  not  here  for  feare  of  daunger  sound  ; 
For  those  that  here  most  peaceably  reraayne, 
Haue  daily  traffique  with  the  heauenly  raigne. 


Hereby  doth  Loue  another  beautie  stand. 
That  brings' thee  streight  vnto  the  rode  of  rest. 


And     id 


631 

And  poynted  out  directly  with  hir  hand. 
The  perfite  way  by  which  thou  mayst  be  blest: 
No  harmfull  boate  may  euer  here  take  land. 
But  only  those  that  please  the  Almightie  best> 
And  seeke  to  sayle  according  to  his  will ; 
This  Lone  doth  all  the  hestes  of  God  fulfill. 

Next  Mbrcie  stands,  a  goodly  marke  and  plaiqe, 

That  leadeth  streight  vnto  the  blissfall  port, 

ft.nd  is  possessed  ot  the  heauenly  traine. 

And  most  frequented  of  the  veituous  sort, 

Who  doe  not  thinke  the  words  were  spoken  in  vaine, 

Wherwith  our  Sauiour  did  the  Jewes  exhort. 

Assuring  those  that  mercie  shewde  to  mpn, 

That  mercie  should  be  shewed  againe  to  theffi. 

Not  farre  from  hence  may  Pacience  plaine  be  seene^ 

The.bulwarke  strong  against  all  iniurie, 

The  soueregne  Ladie  and  most  victorious  (iueene. 

In  troubfe,  toylps  and  worldly  miserie. 

Which  eaermore  assuredly  hath  beeue 

The  Buttresse  chiefe  of  Christianitie, 

By  which  the  soules  of  vertuous  men  haue  saylde. 

That  neuer  yet  in  storme  or  tempest  quaylde. 

Jlere  liuely  Faith  may  well  discerned  bee. 
The  chanell  safe  that  leades  to  heai;enly  blisse, 
Whereby  the  fathers  olde  attainde  to  see 
The  hauen  faire  and  port  of  perfite  blissej 
This  made  the  martyrs  flame  in  such  degree. 
That  life  they  weyed  not  in  respect  of  this, 
By  which  they  knew  assuredly  to  finde 
The  blissfull  place  conceyued  in  their  minde. 

These  are  the  markes  wheretp  thou  must  take  heede  j 

By  these  thou  mayest  thy  selfe  in  voyage  guide, 

If  that  thou  seekest  luckily  to  speede, 

To  passe  the  flattes  and  scape  the  raging  fide; 

Vpon  this  course  haue  mariners  agreed, 

That  long  time  since  these  seas  haue  fully  tride  j 

No  other  way  they  here  haue  left  behinde. 

Whereby  we  may  the  happie  hauen  finde." 

Where  the  bark  shall  finally  rest,  is  beyond  the  weak 
powers  of  man  to  describe. 

"  The  ioyes  are  such  as  cannot  here  be  toide ; 
No  pen  can  paint,  nor  tongue  can  tell  the  kinde, 

-  s  f  4  TI15 


632 

The  gorgeous  sight  thst  saints  shall  here  bebolde!, 
Surmounts  the  reach  of  any  earthly  minde. 
And  passeth  aye  a,  hundred,  thousand  foldie 
The  sweetest  pleasures  that  in  thys  world,  we  finde ; 
No  eye  hath  seene,  no  ears  hath  euer  harde 
Ihe  ioyes  that  are  for  godly  men  preparde. 

AppJie  thy  min<le  to  seeke  this  happy  place. 
Put  all  thy  strength  and  all  thy  force  thereto, 
Call  vnto  God  continuglly  for  grace. 
As  Christ  hath  taught,  seeke  ahvayes  for  to  doe. 
Set  alwayes  him  and  his  before  thy  face> 
So  shah  thou  come  the  blessed  ha«en  to. 
So  thou  thy  selfe  with  eyes  shalt  plainly  see. 
What  ioy,  what  pleasures,  there  piieparde  bee." 

"  The  death  of  S.  Polycarpus,  Bishop  of  Smyrna,  and 
disciple  to  Saint'  John,  Euseb.  lib.  4"  and  "  a  Priest  of 
Apollo,  straungely  conuprted.  Ense.b.  lib.  4"  which  ap- 
pear to  be  the  "  onq  or  two"  stories^  mentioned  in  the 
dedication,  conclude  the  volume. 

When  our  author  flourished-,  the  amplification  of  the 
materials  which  produce  the  elegance  of  poetry,  was  too 
commonly  neglected.  The  playful  attributes  of  fancy 
and  imaginatioii  were  not  lavishly  associated  with,  the 
labours  of  the  Muse  ;  but  while  the  delineation  of  an 
image  is  nearly  bafe  of  every  ornament  and  gTace,  it  does 
jiot  prevent  the.  rough,  and  impressive  outline  from  ex- 
hibiting the  hand  of  ai  master.  Had' the  author  studiously 
remarked  tlje  effect  and  richness-  of  the  imagery  that 
■ddoms ,  Sa,ckv 'die's  Induction,  then  newly  printed,-  he 
wouldhave  produced  a  more  picturesque,  if  not  an  elegant 
performance.  His  manner  evidenilv  suffered  by  the 
chains  of  fashion,  but  that,  if  it  do  not  discover  a  power- 
ful originality,  docs  not  prove  a  deficiency  of  judgment, 
talent  or  genius.  His  staff",  as  it  w,a3  then  modislily  termed, 
or  stanza,  is  wlrat  Richard  Nicolls  calls  of  the  fifth  pro- 
portion,* and  was  usedby  H?rington  in  his  Tramlatlon 

*  "  For  the  verse,  (says  this  writer)  I  haue  chosen  the  fourth' 
proportion,  vvliicli  is  the  stinza  of  scuen,  preferring  it  before  the 
•,i1"r,  which  13  the  st.iff:  of  eight,  bcc.iuse  it  is  chiefly,  vsed  of  our 

ancisnt 


^S3, 

of  Aiioito.  However,  that  writer  neglected  to  preserve  a 
"principal  beauty  in  the  metre,  from  the  legitimate 
smoothnessof  an  unlaboured  though  6ft  recurring  rhyme; 
by  adopting  the  final  polysyllables,  adducing  for  an  au- 
thority Sir  Philip  Sydney,  as  one  that  "  not  only  useth 
them  but  affecteth  them."  That  grace  our  author's 
poem  uniformly  possesses,  and  therein  one  of  the  hap- 
piest instances  of  the  harmony.of  measure,  which,  from 
its  length,  the  age  that  produced  it  can  shew. 

He  has  enlarged,  perhaps  faultily,  from  being  too 
miimte,  on  the  several  characteristics  of  th.eVices,  without 
the  usual  and.  necessary  relief  in  an  equal  display  of  the 
Virtues,  whereby  the  prominent  features  of  the  one  are 
scarcely  effaced  by  the  trite  and  crowded  images  of  the 
other.  Yet,  defective  as  his  allegory  may  be,  it  does 
not  seem  improbable  but  that  the  Purple  Island-,  by 
Fletcher,  derives  its  formation  from  the  Ship  of  Safe- 
guard. 

The  only  copy  of  this  tract  hitherto  discovered,  is  in 
possession  of  Earl  Spencer,  and  forms  one  in  a  thick 
i2mo  volume,  containing  many  rare  articles,  lettered 
"  M'iscellanea,"  belonging  to  the  library  at  Alihorp.* 

I  cannot  omit  this  opportunity  of  acknowledging  the 
obligation  of  this  work  to  the  liberal  permission  of  that 

ancient  and  besr  historical!  poets;  and  though  I  conTesse  that  of 
eight  to  liold  better  band,  yet  is  it  more  tediiius  to  a  writer,  being 
it  binds  hiinto  tlie  band  of  two  t'oures  intertahgled,  wh'ch  it'  he 
obsenis  not,  it  is  no  huitaine  or  sfsfFe  oC  eight,  but  fids  into  the 
first  proportio",  making  two  qu:idreins."  Vide  address  "  To  the 
reader,"  prefixed' to  the  last  part  of  the  Mirour  of  Magistrates, 
1610. 

*  Some  account  of  the  treasures  of  the  fifteenth  century,  col- 
lected by  the  noble  possessor,  there  and  at  Spencer  house,  will 
appear  in  "  a  volume  of  about  500  pages,  devoted  to  a  descripiion 
of  some  of  the  rarest  books  of  early  typogi'aphy,''  'and  whichi 
from  t!;e  known  rapidity  and  unceasing  industry  of  the  very 
valuable  Editor,  we  may  expect  to  be  gratified  with  during  the 
current  year.  It  has  been  aiinonnced  by  the  partial  distribution 
of  thirty-six  copies  o(  Booi  Iteiriiies,  or  aDescripti've  Catalogue  of 
soma  of  the  most  curious,  rare,  and  'valuable  books  of  early  date  ;  chiefly 
in  the  cqlleclion  of  the.  Right  Honourable  George  fok.-i  Earl  Spencer,  K,G. 
/'>'  the  Re-j.  Thomas  Frognal  Dibiii/!. 

nobleman, 


^34 

nobleman,  as  well  in  the  present  article,  as  those  already 
inserted  at  p.  344,  34.9,  and  534.  *  J.  H. 


f  Bellenden's  Translation  of  the  History  of  Scotland, 
from  the  Latin  of  Boetius.  Folio.  1541.  black-Ietier. 

This  volume  in  a  perfect  state  is  extremely  rare;  and 
the  copy  from  which  this  account  is  taken  wants  the 
title.  At  the  end  of  a  poetical  prologue  however,  is  the 
following  colophon  : 

"  Heir  after  foHowis  the  history  and  cronikUs  of 
Scotland  compilit  avd  newly  correckit  ly  the  r ever ende 
and  nolle  clerks  maister  Hector  Boece  channon  of  Aher- 
dene.-  Translatit  laitly  he  Maister  lohn  Bellehdene 
Jrchdene  of  Murray,  channon  of  Ros.  At  the  command 
of  the  richt  hie ,  richt  excellent,  &  noble  prince  James 
the  V.  of  that  name  King  of  Scottis.  And  imprented  at 
Edinburgh  hp  Thomas  JDavidsan  dwellyng  fornens  tfie 
frere  ivynd." 

In  this  age  of  reprints,  perhaps  the  work  of  Bellenden 
might  not  be  unworthy  the  notice  of  some  enterprising 
editor.  Hector  Boyse,  as  an  historian,  is  noted  chiefly 
for  hts  fabulous  absurdity.  But  to  the  greater  number 
of  those  who  cherish  an  attachment  to  black-letter 
volumes,  the  marvellous  legends,  and  wild  superstitions 
of  an  author  who  is  resolved  to  "  hold  each  strange  tale 
devoutly  true,"  must  frequently  prove  more  acceptable 
and  interesting,  than  a  concise  narrative  of  facts,  however 
elegantly  told.  To  such  historians,  it  is  almost  needless 
to  observe,  we  are  indebted  for  the  best  plavs  of  Shak- 
spear;  and,  in  more  recent  times,  for  the  "  Lay  of  the 
last  Minstrel,  Marmion,  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  and 
Don  Roderick.'' — While  the  annotations  of  Scott  and 
Southey  never  refer  to  such  writers  as  Hume  and  Ro- 
bertson, they  are  crowded  with  quotations  from  Froissart, 
Mathew  Paris,  Hector  Boyse,  and  the  Cronicon  Nuremr 
bergenses.     These  obsolete  authors  perhaps  contain  the 

*  It  has  not  been  noticed,  that  among  the  Lansdowne  MSS, 
now  in  Brit.  Mus.  are  some  letters  of  Barnaby  Googe,  (the  sup. 
posed  author  of  this  poera)  and  the  Darells,  regarding  that  al- 
liance.    See  Catalogue,  I,  iz,  15.. 

germs 


^^5 

germs  oi  tnitty  future  poems,  which  will  be  the  delight 
of  all  nations.     Nor  need  we  Fear,  that  by  putting  it  into 
the  power  of  every  one  to  rgad  those  rare  authors,  which 
it  has  been  hitherto  considered  an  enviable  distinction  to 
possess,  and  which  have  been  kept  sacred  from  the  pol- 
luling  touch  of  the  vulgar,  that  we  shall  detract  from  the 
value  of  the  poems  to  which  they   have  given  rise,  or 
obstruct  the  progress  of  the  poetic  art^  by  laying  open  its 
hidden  sources  td  common  eyes.    We  may  indeed  render 
the  sources  common,  but  need  not  fear  that  by  so  doing 
poetic  novelty  can  be  exhausted,  or  poetry  held  in  less 
admiration   than    before.     A   reprint   of  the   celebrated 
"  Morte  Arthur,"  will  probably  ere  long  render  familiar 
to  modern  eyes  those  delightful  fictions  which  nourished 
the  genius  of  Milton,  and  in  later  times,  that  .of  T.  War- 
ton   and  of  Waller  Scott;  but   the  "  divina  partiaila 
aura"  will,  as  in  Milton's  days,   and  in  all  past  ages,  be 
in  the  possession  only  of  a  chosen  few,  on  whom  that  gift 
has  been  bestowed  by.  the  immediate  interposition  of  a 
Supreme    Povi'er. — To   put;   an   end    to    these   remarks, 
which,    though   accidentally   suggested    by   the    present 
article,  are  perhaps  more  general  in  their  tendency  than 
its  confined  nature  warranted,  it  may  be  observed,  that  in 
the  Biographia  Britannica  (art.  BeUenden)  there  is  some 
account  of  this  author  and  his  poetry.     Mr.  Pinkerton 
mentions  his  death  at   Rome  in  ,1550;  and  desires  his 
readers  to  beware  of  confounding  him  with   Bannatyne 
the  collector  of  poems,  who  has  preserved  sorne  of  Bel- 
lenden's  poetry,  and  from  whose  collection  were  published 
the  selections  of  Ramsay  and  Lord  Hailes.    The  poetical 
prologue  to    the  present  work  not  being  very  generally 
known,  f  will  venture  to  transcribe  a  few  stanzas.     It  is 
addressed   ihroughout  "  to  his  Buke;"  and  consists  of 
twenty-nine  stanzas,  of  eight  verses  each,  of  which  this 
is  the  first. 

"  Thou  marcyali  buke  pas  lo  the  nobyll  prynce, 
Kyng  James  the  fyft  my  ,soverane  roaist  preclare, 
And  gif  sum  tyme  thow  gettis  audience, 
Jn  humyll  vvyse  unto  his  grace  declare 
My  waukrife  niclitis  and  my  lauboure  sare, 
Q.uliiH5  Jihandly  lies  for  his  pleseir  t:ik 

Quhyll 


•    Quiiyll  gdldin  TytETii  with  his  birnand  cha«e 
Hes  past  all  siguis  in  the  zodiak." 

The  following  afe' chosen  withotit  regard  to  the  order  iti 
which  the  stanzas  aire  printed,  but  on  account  of  I'heif 
beiiig  among  the  mOst  spirited  in  the  proeme,  and  th6 
most  applicabl'e  to  the  subjects  in  view. 

"  Sen  then  art  drawin  sa  compendious 

^ra  fiowand  Latyne  into  vulgar  prose, 

Schaw  nowquhat  pritices  bene  maist  vicius, 

And  qiihay  lies  bene  of  chevelry  the  rose. 

Quhay  did  tliair  kingrik  in  maist  hoflour  jois. 

And  with  ibair  bltad  dnr  libfrteis  hes  coft, 

Regardyng  noCht  to  de  ansang  thair  foes% 
-    So  that  thay  niicht  in  memory  be  brocht. 

Schaw  be  quhat  dangeir  and  difficil  wayis 
Our  anteces'^ouris  at  tliair  uter  mychtis 
Hes  brocht  this  realms  with  honour  to  our  dayis 
Ay  fechtand  for  thair  liberteis  and  richtis 
With  Romanis,  Dauis,  Jnglismen  &  Pichtis, 
As  eurtas  redej's  may  throw  thy  process  ken 
Thairfoir  thow  ganis  for  na  catyve  wichtis 
AUanerly  hot  unto  nobyll  men. 

And  to  sic  peisonis  as  covettis  for  to  heir 
The  voukeand  dedis  your  progenitouris. 
And  how  this  runtre  baith  in  peace  &  weir 
Bene  governit  unto  this  present  houris. 
How  forcy  cheiftanis  in  nlony  bludy  stouris 
(As  now  is  blawin  by  my  vulgar  pen) 
Maist  valz^andly  wan  1-indis  &  honouris. 
And  for  tbair  virtue  [were]  callit  nobyll  men. 

Sen  thoW  contenis  no  vailzeand  men  &  wyso 
Than  evir  "as  red  in  ony  buke  but  dout, 
Gif  ony  churle  or  velane  the  dispyse 
Byd  hence  hym  harlot,  he  is  not  of  this  rout. 
For  heir  are  kingis  and  mony  nobills  stout. 
And  nane  of  thame  pertenand  to  his  clan. 
Thow  art  sa  full  of  nobylnes  per  tout, 
J  wald  nane  red  the  bot  ane  nobyll  man. 

Thus  to  all  nobylls  sen  thow  art  dedicat, 
Schaw  breifly  how  by  my  gret  deTigence 
Ilk  story  be  the  self  is  seperat 
To  mak  thaym  bowsomc  to  thine  audience. 

Sclsrink 


Schrink  nocht  thaiifore,  bot  byde  at  thy  sentenie, 

i^en  thow  art  armit  with  invincible  trewth, 

Orgentyll  reders  tak  benevolence 

And  cure  of  others  ija  Invy  nor  rewth. 

Bring  nobyll  dedis  of  mony  zeris  gone 

Als  fresche  and  recent  to  our  mpmorie, 

Als  thay  war  bot  ipto  our  dayis  done 

That  nobyll  men  may  haye  baith  laud  &  glorie 

For  thair  excellent  brut  of  victprie. 

And  zit  becaus  my  tyroe  hes  bene  so  schort;, 

J  thynk  quhen  I  have'  opportunita 

To  ring  thair  bell  into  ane  othir  sort. 

Leir  kingis  to  bait  all  peple  yitius. 

And  na  sic.  personis  in  thair  hous  ressave^ 

And  siiffirna  seryandis  avaritius^ 

Ovir  scharp  exaclionis  on  thair  subditis  craif, 

That  not  be  done  w-thout  thair  honour  saif, 

Sekand  jia  conques  be  unlefull  warns.  * 

Schaw  mony  reasonis  how  na  king  mycht  haif 

His  baronis  hartis&  thair  gcir  at  tahis. 

Schau  how  the  kingis  life  and  governance 
The  murrour  of  Icvyng  to  his  peple  bene, 
P'or  as  he  luffisj  bis  his  ordinance 
The  same  maneris  are  with  his  peple  sene. 
And  thalrfair  kingis  hes  na  oppin.  rene 
To  use  all  plcseirisas  thajm  lykisbest. 
The  hiear  honour  &  office  thay  su^tene, 
Thair  vice  is  ay  the  hiear  manifest. 

Schaw  now  quhat  kind  of  soundis  musical- 
Js  maist  semand  to  vailzesnd  cheveleris, 
As  thondran  blast  of  tnimpat  bellicall 
The  spretis  of  men  to  hardy  curage  sleris, 
So  syngyng,  fydlyngj  and  piping  not  efferis 
For  men  of  honour  nor  of  bye  estate, 
Because  it  spoutis  swete  venome  io  thair  erisj 
And  makis  thair  myndis  al  effeminate." 

But  as  it  is  possible  that  this  prologue  may  have  been 
already  reprinted,  t  I  transcribe  the  following  account  of 
the  celebrated  Battle  of  Bannockburn,  as  a  specirnen  «f 
the  prose.  ' 

*  This  v?ord  seems  to  be  peculiar. 

-f-  It  is  inserted  in  Sibba'd's  'Chronick  of  Scottish  Poetry,  Vol.  II. 
p.  6i.    H. 

i     ■  "  Jn 


638 

"■  in  the  mene  tyme  Kyng  Edward  send  io  all  kyngis  and 
Jirincis  that  war  alliat  with  hyra  to  have  support  aganis  the 
Scottis,  promiiling  eftir  his  victory  to  divide  Scotland  amang 
thaj'm.     And  thairfpir  nocht  only  the  peple  ihat  stude  under 
his  empire,  hot  sindfy  othir  infinite  peple  come  with  hym  on 
thair  aventuris.     Specially  tliay  that  had  hot  small  insycht  at 
hame.     Traisting  to  parches  be  his  conques  &  victorie  landis 
&  riches  sufficient  to  sustene  thair  esf,ait  in  tymes  cumyng. 
And  in  esperance  thairof  thay  brocht  with  thame  yai)r  wiffis 
and  childriii  with  all  the  giiddisqnhilk  thay  myCht  turs  *  baith 
on  fute  and  hors.  Y°  kndis  qiibare  kyng  Edward  gat  Suppoit 
to  this  battall,  wer  thir  that  folowes.     Holland,  Zeland,  Bra- 
bane,    Flanderis,   Picardy,  BoUony,   Gascimze,   Normandye, 
with  mony  othir  rcgionis,  quhilkis  wer  all  that  tyme  other 
confiderat  with  Jngland,  or  ellis  under  thair  doriiinioun.    And 
by  thaym  mony  scottis  men  (quhilkis  for  the  felicite  succedyng 
toJnglismen)  tuke  part  at  yis  tyme  with  kyng  Edward  contrar 
thair  native  prince,  y*^  noumer  that  come  at  this  tyme  in  Scot- 
land with  King  Edward  extendit  to  ane  hundreih  and  fifty 
thowsand  fute  men,  with  als  tnony  hors  men.     And  by. this, 
wes  infinite  noumer  of  seudlaris,    &  cariage  men  with  yair 
wiffis  childrin  madinnis  &  servandis,   as  thay  wer  sicker  to  sit 
doun  perpetually  in   Scotland.     Throw  quhilk   the  noumer 
wes  sa  gret  that  na  ordour  ne  craft  of  chevalry  mycht  he  ob- 
servat  amang  th^ym.     For  men  wifBs  and  chiidrin   wer  all 
mixt  togidder.     Throw  quhilk  rais  ane  huge  reird  and  clamour 
in  all  partis   quhare  thay  come,  throw   diversite  of  toungis. 
Kyng  Edward  be  this  incredible  noumer  of  pepill  richt  proud 
and  insolent  tuke  liltil   solicimde  or  thocht  of  battall.     For 
quhen   he  was  approachend  neir  the  merchis  of  Scctland,  he 
tuke  avisement  with  his  nobiljs,  with  quhatcruell  and  schame- 
fuU  torment  he  micht  best  punis  ki~g  Robert  and  his  nobills, 
presuming  t)e  vain  arrogance  to  put  thaym  to  pyne,  as  thay 
had  bene  sicker  in  his  handis.     Attoure  he  brocht  with  him  an 
Carmelite  monk  todescrive  his  conques  &  victory  on  Scotland. 
And  nocht  onlie  the  kyng,  but  every  man  in  his  company  usit 
maist  detraction  on  the   Scottis.     On  the  tothir  side  kyng 
Robert  did  all  thing  with  gret  prudence  and  industry,  and 
wiih  xxK  M.  men  feirs  4nd  well  exercit  in  chevalry  he  come 
pertlie  againis  his  ennymes,  &  set  doun  his  tents  w'.  gud  ar- 
ray on  ane  plane  abone  Danochburn.     Uncertane  quhethir  he 
did  yis  for  the  gret  confidence  he  had  in  his  folkis;  or  yif  he 
did  it  to  caus  his  fayis  to  have  him  in  ma  co~iemption,   and  as 

•  This  word  also  seems  to  be  peculiar. 

he 


?39 

he  beievit  so  follow  it  eftir.     For  quheii  the  Jnglisraen  begaii 
to  wonder  how  he  durst  cu   w"'.  sa  small  power  aganis  yair 
huge  ordinance  Jt  wes  said  be  ane  agit  and  wyse  capitane. 
We  will  get  na  victoiy  this  day  but  Strang  besgane  Sc  gret 
tnurdir  of  pepill.     For  he  knew  weill  ye  gret  wisdom  &  man- 
heid  of  kyng  Robert  and  his  forcy  campionis  sa  lang  exercit  in 
chevalry.     Korthir  to  strength  hs  manhe'id  w'.  more  crafty 
eiycht,  he  tnaid  deip  fowseis  in  the  place  qnhare  ihe  battall 
was  set,  and  dang  in  scaikis  with  scharp  pointis  rysing  up, 
coverit  with  scherritiis   with  sic  ingyne,  that  fut  men  mycht 
pas  thairon  but  ony  dangeir,  bot  quhen  ony  preis  of  hers  come 
aboon  the  said  fowseis,  y*  lofting  suld  brek.    And  incontinent 
the  horzraen  suld  qthir  be  revin  on  staikis,  or  ellis  inclusit  but 
any  passage.     Sic  ihingis  clone,  he  abaid  still  in  the  said  place 
abidyng  with  gret  curage  the  ciimyng,  of  Jnglismen,     And 
quhen  baith  the  armyis  were  approcheinj;  to  othir  within  ane 
myle,  kyng  Edward  send  V  III.  C.  horsmen  be  ;'.ne  prevy  zait 
to  thecastell  of  Strivelyng  to  advenis  the  capitane  of  his  cum- 
yng.     Als  sone  as  kyng  Robert  saw  thaym  proceding  forth- 
wart,  he  sent  erle  Thomas  Randale  with  V.  C.  men  to  saif  the 
cuntre  fra  thair  invasioun,  quhilk  met  ihir  Jnglismen  with  in- 
credible manheid.     Throw  quhilk  it  wes  fauchtin  cruelly  with 
unceriane  victory  la"g  tyme  in  y'  face  of  baith  y°  arrnys.     Jit 
y"^  mene  tyme  Schir  James  Dowglas  dred  yat  erle  Thomas  his 
speciall  2r  tender  freind  suld  be  ouirset  be  multitude  of  Jnglis- 
me .    And  incontinent  he  fell  on  kneis  before  kyng  Robert  de- 
siring licence  to  support  his  freind.     And  becaus  the  kyng 
,  wold  nocht  condiscend  to  his  purpos  sa  haistely  as  he  desyrit, 
he  ruschit  out  of  y*^  army  but  any  license  \yiih  an  cu~pany  of 
chozin  men  lo  y°  effect  foresaid.     At  last  quhen  be  wes  cum- 
yng  neiry^  place  quhare  the  ei-le  faucht,  and  saw  the  victoiy 
inclinand  to  hym  with  gret   murdir  of  Jnglismen,  he  stude 
still,  thnt   he  suld  nocht  be  his  cumyng  reif  fra  his  tender 
freind  ye  glore  of  victorie,  quhilk  he  had  conquest  with  sic 
.  felicite  and  manheid.     This  victorie  wes  sa  plesand  to  all  the 
army  of  Scottis  yat  every  man  wes  spretil  with  new  curage. 
Belevyng  w'.  sicker  esperance  niore  felicite  haistely  apprbche- 
ing.     The  JngUf.nen   war  litil  astonist  of  this  disco"fitour. 
Howbe  t  thay  saw  the  Sccittis  do  this  vassalage  bee  more  roa"- 
heid  than  noumer  of  pepill.     And  to  that  fyne  the  Scoitis  sail 
jiocht  be  insolent  throw  this  said  victorie,  yai  set  battal  to 
fecht  vv',  yame  on  the  morrow.    Kyng  Robert  maid  his  folkis 
(youcht  thay  war  in  few  noumer)  reddy  for  battall  in  the 
samyer  maner,  casting  hyra  mony  wayis  to  bring  his  ennymea 
in  th€  fowseis  afore  devisit.     First  he  comraandit  the  army  to 

raak 


640 

niak  thair  coiifessionis  and  to  be  reddy  on  the  morowc  to  res- 
saue  y^  blissit  sacrament  afiir  messe.  Throw  quhilk  thay 
mycht  haue  the  better  esperance  of  victory^  On  ihe  tothirside 
the  Jnglismeii  be  hie  curage  belevit  nochf  bot  huge  pray  of 
landis  &  guddis  to  fall  to  yame  for  smal  laubonre  of  ane  day. 
AH  the  nycht  afore  the  battall  kyrig  Robert  wcs  richt  wery 
havand  gret  sollicitude  for  the  weil  of  his  army,  and  mycbt 
take.na  rest,  bot  rolland  all  jeoperdeis  and  chance  of  fortoun  in 
liis  tr.ynd,  and  snm  tyme  he  went  to  bis'devoit  co~ten)p!atioun, 
■makand  his  orisoun  to  god  &  si~ct  Philkne,  quhais  arme  (as  he 
belevit)  set  in  siluer  wes  closit  in  ane  cais  within  his  palzeon. 
Traisting  the  better  fortoun  to  follow  be  the  samyn.  Jn  the 
mene  tyme  y'^.  cais  chakkit  to  snddardie  but  ony  motion  or 
werk  of  mortail  creaturis.  The  preist  astonist  be  this  wounder 
went  to  the  altar  quhare  the  cais  lay.  And  qnlien  he  fand  the 
arme  ill  the  cais  he  cryit  heir  is  ane  gret  mirakle,  and  inconti- 
nent he  confessit  how  he  brocht  the  tume  cais  in  the  field, 
diedand  y'.  the  rcllik  suld  be  tint  in  the  fei!d  quhare  sa  gret 
'jeoperdeis  apperit.  The  kyng  rcjosing  of  this  mirakill  past  the 
remanent  nycht  ii  his  prayaris  with  gude  esperance  of  victorie. 
'  On  the  morowe  begaderit  all  his  army  to  messe  to  ressave  the 
"body  of  God  to  raak  thayme  have  the  more  curage  agariis 
•  thair  ennymcs.  Jn  this  army  wes  ane  devoit  man  namit  M;l- 
riiius  Abbot  of  InchaflFray,  yuhilk  said  masse  on  ane  hie  mote, 
and  ministerit  the  Eucharist  to  the  kyng  and  his  nobills,  and 
cansit  his  preistis  to  mak  ministratioun  thairot  to  the  residew 
of  the  army.  Eftir  this  kyng  Robert  callit  the  pcpill  to  his 
standari  and  said  in  this  maner.  J  beleif  (maist  forcy  carar 
pionis)  nane  is  ama~g  zow  nocht  knawing  how  necessar  it  is  to 
Ws  to  fecht  this  daye  aganis  oure  ennyt'nes.  Ze  se  ane  army 
gaderit  aganis  oure  ennymes:  Ze  se  ane  army  gaderit  aganis 
zOw  hbcht  only  of  Inglismen  bot  of  si-ndry  othir  nationisliand 
about  yame,  and  cumyng  aganis  Ws  with  thair  wiffis  and 
childrii)  tiocht  onlie  to  dwell  in  our  boundis  bot  als  to  banis 
ws' out  of  the  samyn,  and  te^dis  to  manure  our  la"d is  to  fre- 
quent our  housis  and  tempills.  And  finalie  to  bring  ws  to  sic 
ulerrewyne,yat  owr  fame  and  memorie'sall  peris  in  Albioune. 
Our. ennymes  hes  tane  lang  consultafioune  ihowbeit  it  wes 
folie)  with  quhat  cruell  &  horrible  torment^hey  sail  pyne  ws 
or  evir  we  be  vincust'or  cum  in  yair  lufdis,  nat  knawing-zour 
invincible  curage  and  manheid  sa  lang  exercit  in  chevatry 
quhilk  is  rycht  patent  in  me  be  lang  experience.  Nocbyeles 
gif  ye  will  knawe  quhat  vailzearit  men  bene  thir  now  invading 
zow  with  sic  vane  mynasiug  (maist  forcy  and  invincible  cam- 
pionis)  thayare  the  refuse  of  all  rcalmcs  btit  ony  practik  or 

••'■■■       exjerienct; 


641 

experience  of  chivalry,  and  continewally  (sen  yair  first  zeria) 
.drownit  in  lustie  amang  effeminate  hxiris.  And  becaus  thir 
■febMl  and  cowart  bodyis  lies  waistit  thair  patrimony  landiS  & 
gudis  in  vile  &  corruppit  mis,  thay  intend  to  ding  jiovi'  fra  zour 
.native  Jandis  beritagt-  ^  roumes.  Noctheles  ze  sail  have  sone 
experience,  yat  it  sail  be  n?  mgir  difE.culte  to  slay  thayme  yan 
scheip.  Forther  suppois  thay  wer  dotat  with  maist  vertew, 
ze  suld  jiouther  be  affrayit  nor  zit  fule  hardy,- for  in  sa  far  as 
we  have  ane  justar  querreil  to  de^nd,  yan  thay  have  to  p'sew^ 
in  sa  far  suld  we  beleif  yat  gotj  salbe  niajr  favorable  to  ws  yai^ 
to  yaiije.  God  hes  now  sohawin  to  ws  his  favour  be  myrakle 
of  sanct  Phillane  quhilk  is  cumyn  (as  J  beleif)  to  your  eiris. 
yairffore  J  pray  zo^y  be  of  ^iide  cafort,  as  ze  ar.  Set  on  zone 
ponfusit  multitude  of  pepjil.  And  traist  weill  quhare  god  is 
concurrant,  na  multitjide  pf  ennimes  may  avail.  And  the  more 
noumer  of  pepiJl  cuniis  aggnis  ?-o\v  the  pray  and  riches  sail 
cum  to  zoijr  more  proffet.  On  the  totiiir ■  side  kyng  Edward 
prayit  his  folkjs  to  rensember  gif  tliay  faupht  vailzeantlie  fer 
gne  hour  or  tw,o,  y^i  suld  have  infinite  riches,  a«d  y'  realme 
of  Scotlaiide  jn  re\j'ard  of  tfeajr  lauboare,  of  quhiJJc  he  desyrit 
nocht  bot  the  superiorite.  Attourc  prayit  yame-  to  remember 
jquhat  irre,cov€rable  schame  suld  follo^^•  (sen  thay  wer  departit 
6u}  of  thair  cuntreis)  to  return  Ijame  but  profiet  or  vict<:ri-ie. 
At  last  quhei^  thai  wer  passand  forfhwart  to  battaJJ,  yaj  mycfat  ■ 
skarslie  see  severit  fra  eiribrasing  of  yair  wi^s  and  childrin, 
Noehtyeles  ife  iK^-tatiouu  of  yair  capitajji?  ygi  come  to  gud  ar- 
.ray.  The  archearis  studp  arrayit  amang  the  horsenien  abop.t 
ilk  ^yyng.  And  the  battall  evir  iij  the  inyddis  ^f  yame,  traist- 
jng  yair  ei)flym,es  nocht  of  pi^sar),ce  to  stjstene  yair  gret  ordlr 
nance.  Kyng  Robert  ^y'.  his  folkis  sail  have  n^  esperance  to 
fle)  comnriandjt  thay.ip  tp  leif  yair  hors  behind  yame,  and  to 
cum  on  fate  tp  baitall.  Marhius  the  abbipt  forsaid  tuk,e  the 
croce,  to  quhilk  the  crucifix  wes  hynging,  ajid  erecjkit  it  afore 
the  army  in  njanerof  ane  bgner.  Jncontipent  all  ye  army  of 
Scottis  fell  on  kneis  devoitly  ccTmending  yame  to  God.  The 
/ngliSUien  leing  the  Scottis  fall  on  jkneis,  bel^evit  yame  zoldin 
but  straik.  Bot  ;quheq  ygi  saw  yame  ryse  apd  come  forthwart, 
yai  began  to  be  affrayit.  Jnconitinervt  baith  y'  armyis  ruscbi,t 
togidder.  At  the  first  jonyng,  many  p.epill  were  drevin  at  er4 
pu  all  sidie,  Y^  archeyis  (qubilkis  ever  arrayit  in  the  uter 
skirttis  ,of  y"  wingisj  wer  richt  poysum  to,y=  scottis,  qujiil  8t 
last  Edward  Bruce  .came  on  yair  bakkis  with  1.  M.  speris  and 
brak  yame  f  sic  wyse,  yat  yai  did  little  more  skaith.  Jnconti- 
jient  ane  battall  of  horsmen  to  y'  noumer  of  xxx.  M.  me"  come 
aJl  lusqband  forwart  attapis  to  have  ovirriden  y"^  spottis.     And 


64s 

quhen  yai  wcr  ruand  forthwart  with  maist  \iolenccyai  fel  al 
attanis  in  y«  fowseis  qiihare  yai  wer  miserably  slaine  but  ony 
dlebait.  And  zit  the  scottis  throw  multitude  of  ennymes  wer 
neir  vincust,  yan  ye  carriage  men  and  wemen  seand  yais  mais- 
tres  in  sic  extreme  dangeir,  put  on  yair  sarkis  above  ihair 
claiths  with  towellis  and  napkinnis  bound  to  yair  speriSj  and 
come  doun  y=  hill  form~ece  yair  ennymes  with  maist  anfuU 
&  terribill  noises.  y«  Jnglisraen  fechtand  tha~  with  maist  fury 
agans  ye  Scotlis  with  uncertane  victory  and  seand  yis  new  ordi- 
na~ce  cumyng  doun  y"^  hill  on  yair  face  was  sore  afTrayit.  and 
becaus  ihay  mycht  skarsly  sustene  y' violent  preis  of  scottis 
tha"  present,  thay  belevit  to  be  vily  destroyit,  gif  yai  pseverit 
ony  forihir  i~  batlall,  and  gaif  backis,  an  quhati  foUowit  y= 
scottis  with  insaciabyll  yre,  and  maid  slancht'.  in  all  ptis 
quhare  thay  come,  specially  quhare  king  Edward  fled,  schi- 
James  Douglas  with  III  I.  C.  cbosifl  men  na  thi~g  irkitw'.  co~- 
tinewall  slaucht'.  of  his  ennymes,  followit  king  Edward  with 
lang  chace  to  Du'bar,  quhare  he.wes  re.ssavii.  be  Patrik  du"bar 
erle  of  March  with  XV.  ijrlis,  &  put  i~  Jngland  be  ane  fischar 
bait  to  be  exa'ple  of  y°  unsicker  stait  &  glore  of  princes:  for 
yocht  yis  Edward  wes  yis  day  at  morrowe  rycht  proud  with 
mony  duks,  erlis  and  baronis  und^  his  empire,  not  unlik  su~- 
tyme  to  y'.  gret  army  of  king  Xerxis.  Zit  he  wes  constranit 
or  evyn  to  saif  his  life  i~n  ane  pure  fischar  bait  fleand  be  ye  see 
rjng]a~d."* 

The  singular  incident  mentioned  by  all  Scottish  his- 
torians, by  which  the  battle  was  decided  in  favour  of  the 
Scots,  seems  in  all  probability,  to  have  been  a  slratao-em 
previously  devised  by  King  Robert.  An  excellent  sum- 
mary of  historical  evidence  on  the  battle  of  Bannockburn, 
arnd  indeed  a  most  indusfrious  and  interesting  account  of 
the  whole  life  of  the  Scottish  hero,  may  be  found  in  Mr. 
Kerr's  History  of  the  Seign  of  Rolert  I.  lately  pub- 
lishcti. 

E.  P.  G. 

*  There  is  a  Scoticism  constantly  occuring  in  the  above  extract 
viz.  but  ioT 'without,  v\h;ch  must  appear  stinnge  to  an  E.iglisfi 
reader.  It  may  also  beproper  to  observe  that  to^cais  rr.ean.';  fmpk 
case,  ill  thestoiy  of  St.  JilUn's  Arnc.     lornece,  foriiens,  opposite.' 


643 


^  K02>T0BPE$IA,  or  the  Infancy  of  the  World:  with 
an  appendix  of  God's  resting  day,  Eden  Garden  ; 
man's  Happiness  before.  Misery  after,  his  Fall. 
l-P^hereiinto  is  added.  The  praise  bf  nothing;  divine 
ejaculations :  the  four  ages  of  the  tvorld;  the  birth  of 
Christ;  also  a  century  of  historical  applications :  ivith 
a  taste  of  Poetical  Fictions.  Written  some  y6ars 
since  by  Nlicholas']  B[illingsley']  then  of  Eaton 
school;  and  now  published  at  the  request  of  his  friends . 
Ijondon,  printed  for  Robert  Crofts,  and  are  to  be 
sold  at  his  shop  at  the  Crotvn  in  Chancej-y  Lane  under 
Sergeants  Inn,   1658.   16°.  p  p.  184. 

The  only  information  relative  to  Nicholas  Billingsley, 
the  author  of  the  above  work,  I  have  been  able  to  gain, 
is  coUeGted  from  the  prefatory  matter  of  the  book  itself. 

From  the  dedication  10  ''Francis  Rous,  Esq.  Provost 
of  Eton  College,  and  one  of  the  council  to  his  Highness 
the  Lord  Protector,'"  dated,  Canterbury,  in  1656,  it  ap- 
pears that  six  years  before  he  had  been  placed  at  Eton 
as  a  King's  Scholar,  but  had  not  succeeded  in  being 
elected  from  thence  to  the  sister  foundation  of  King's 
College,  Cambridge,  and  that  his  poverty  had  prevented 
his  becoming  a  member  of  either  university.  1  have  no 
clue  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  period  when  he  was 
born,  except  that  his  poems  being  composed  at  the  age 
of  fifteen,  in  his  hours  of  recreation,  at  Eton;  and  six 
years  !iavii;g  elapsed  since  he  was  placed  there,  it  may  be 
plausibly  conjectured  that  at  the  date  of  his  dedication  he 
was  about  twenty  or  tweniy-one  years  of  age,  and  if  so, 
consequently  born  sometime  about  1654-5.  Anthony 
Wood  mentions  several  persons  of  the  names  of  Billings- 
ley,  and  amongst  others  Henry  Billingsley,  son  of  Roger 
Billingslcy,  of  the  city  of  Canterbury,  who  having  ai;- 
tai^ied  great  riches,  became  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  was 
knighted,' and  died  in  ]6o6.  *  Our  author  seems  also  to 
have  been  a  native  of,  or  connected  v^rith  Canterbury,  not 

»  Wood's  Ath.  Vol.  I.  331. 

T  T  a  only 


644 

only  from  his  dedication  being  dated  at  that  place,  but 
from  several  complimentary  addresses  prefixed  (according 
to  the  custom  or  the  day)  to  the  work,  the  writers  of 
which  were  residents  in  that  city.  Among  other  poems 
of  that  class,  is  one  subscribed  by  the  author's  brother, 
John  Billingsley,  who  probably  may  be  the  person  men- 
tioned by  Wood  as  being  of  Corpus  Christ!  College,  Ox- 
ford, and  taking  his  master's  degree  in  1649.*  A 
Colonel  Billingsley  was  killed  on  the  side  of  the  King 
when  Bridgenorth  was  stormed  by  the  Parliamentarians.^ 

From  the  preface  addressed  io  the  candid  read^,  it  ap- 
pears that  the  author  had  already  published  some  work 
which  had  met  with  a  favourable  reception,  and  which 
had  emboldened  him,  together  with  the  encouragement  of 
friends,  to  send  the  work  before  us  into  the  world ;  he 
then  cautions  the  reader  not  to  "  expect  any  strong  lines, 
high  tow'ring  fancies,  and  soaring  inventions,  which 
were,  when  he  penned  it,  inconsistent  with  his  boyish 
years."  The  work  bears  strong  intrinsic  evidence  of  the 
author's  immature  or  naturally  jejune  powers,  as  it  will 
perhaps  be  difficult  to  find  among  the  poetasters  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  one  more  defective  in  e%'ery  qualifi- 
fication  of  a  poet. 

"  The  world's  infancy,"  which  is  not  only  a  versified 
history  of  the  creation,  but  also  an  account  of  man's  fall, 
is  comprized  in  ten  sections,  to  each  of  which  is  prefixed 
an  argument,  also  in  verse.  The  reader  may  form  some 
idea  of  the  poet's  talent  for  condensing  his  matter  from 
the  argument  to  the  last  section. 

"  The  Devill  in  the  serpents'  forme 
Tempteth  to  sin  the  woman  first : 
She  man ;  so  done,  the  Lord  doth  storme. 
The  Serpentj  Eve^  and  Adam's  curst." 

Few  persons  of  the  present  day,  however  friendly  to. 
an    author,   would  recommend  the  publication  of  such 
trash  as  the  following  physiological  description  of  man. 
"  Man's  stomack  is  a  potj  wherein  the  meat 
Is  reconcocted,  he  before  did  eat. 

•  •*  Fasti,  Vol.  ir.  70.     A  family  of  this  name  was  resident  at 
Dover,  and  allied  to  that  of  Lbrd  Chancellor  Hardwick. 
t  Vicar's  Burning  bush  not  consumed,  p.  403. 

The 


645 

The  Mesaraick  veins  suck  and  delivei' 

The  chile  of  what  we  eat  through  pipesj  to  th'  liver. 

The  belly  is  a  buttery,  wherein 

(Within  the  cupbord  of  the  bowels  skin) 

The  grosser  ofials,  that  the  stomack'leaues 

Of  its  digestion  adhers  and  cleaues^ 

Where  they  remaine,  until  datne  nature  please 

For  to  exonerate  such  filthy  lees."     P.  49. 

The  ladies  are  not  much  indebted  to  the  gallantry  of 
our  poet,  who  gives  the  following  etymology  of  the  word 
woman:  after  saying  that  Adam  had  csJled  his  com- 
panion woman,  he  goes  on; 

"  (Nor  is't  a  wonder  why  he  call'd  hei-  so; 

For  unto  MAN  at  last  she  prov'd  a  WOE.)"     P.  5 1 . 

The  Gun-Powder  Plot  is  commemprated  by  Billings- 
iey,  in  what  he  calls  a  hymne. 

"'  Now  the  grisly  God  of  Hell 
With  his  monsters,  fierce  and  fell. 
Which  in  pitchy  caverns  dwell^ 

Enter  into  consultatioti. 
Aiad  the  devils'  Impe  the  (Pope  *) 
And  the  Catholicks  which  grope 
In  the  darke,  doe  greatly  hope 

For  to  see  our  desolation."    Verse  1 . 

After  stating  that  almost  before  Elizabfeth  Jied,  the 
plan  had  been  organized  by  Garaet,  Catesby/and  others, 
he  proceeds : 

"■  Powder  barrels  thirty-six; 
(Billet  wood  and  faggot  sticks 
For  to  colour  it)  they  fix, 

In  a  cellar  that  was  voyd. 
This  conspif'd  to  ouerthrow    ' 
King  and  kingdome  at  a  k\ow.. 
What  to  do  they  faine  would  know. 

Faux  a  villaine  they  employ' d'."    Verse  4. 

Having  detected  the  pl©t,  the  poet  goes  on, 
"  They  that  did  our  deaths  conspire. 
And  did  very  much  desire 
We  might  dance  in  shets  f  oflSte, 

Their  plots  found  out^  they  fled  our  coasts. 

*  Sic.  t  Sic. 

X  T  3  Some 


646 

Some  of  them  did  a  halter  stretch, 
Guy  Faux,  a  brazen-faced  wretch 
Had's  ]iead  erected  on  a  cratch  : 

Glory  be  to  the  Lord  of  Hoasts. 

Ail  the  school-boys  in  the  kingdom,  will  doubtless  join 
chorus  in  the  next  verse. 

"  Thrice  blessed  be  this  day,  may  not 
The  unaccomplish'd  Powder  plotj 
By  any  Christians  be  forgot. 

O  joyfull  joyfull  holy  day  1 
Let  Bells  in  ev'ry  Steeple  ring. 
And  ev'ry  sort  of  people  sing. 
And  boyes  their  squibs  and  crackers  fling 

And  bone-fires  beamy  light  display."     Verse  g. 

The  reader  perhaps  will  be  satisfied  with  one  more 
specimen,  vi'hich  affords  a  sample  of  the  poet's  powers  of 
description:  it  is  the  first  verse  of  "  Genethliacon,  or  a 
birth  song,  in  honour  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  his  coming  into  the  world." 

"  From  the  skies  night  slideth  doun  : 
Cloathed  in  a  sable  goan ; 
And  her  drowsie  head  doth  croun. 

With  a  poppy  coronet. 
MuflBing  up  her  scar-crow  face} 
Holding  forth  a  leeden  Mace  J 
Thus  she  ore  the  world  doth  trace ; 

With  bright  sentinels*  beset^ — " 

E.  W. 

*  This  figure  appears  to  have  been  a  great  favorite  with  the 
poets  of  the  period  in  which  Billingsley.  flourished.  It  is  u^ed 
both  by  Lovelace  and  Habington.  A  modern  poet  of  considerable 
celebrity  has  borrowed  it. 

"  Our  bugles  had  sounded,  the  night-cloud  had  lour'd. 
And  the  sentinel  stars  set  their  watch  in  the  sky." 

Campbell's  Soldier's  Dream. 

I  quote  these  two  lines  from  memory,  and  will  not  therefore 
vouch,  for  the  correctness  of  the  first. 

A  Jlyve 


647 

^  [J  Hyve  full  of  honye,  contayning  the  First  Booke 
of  Moses,  called  Genesis,  turned  into  englishe  meter, 
ly  William  Hunnis,  ivith  notes  in  the  margin,  Her- 
bert, 867.  Col.]  Imprinted  at  London  in  Fleet- 
streete,  neere  viito  S.  Dunstane's  Churche  by  Thomas 
Marshe.  1578.  Ciim  Friuilegio  Regies  Maiestatis. 
136  leaves,  qto.* 

As  a  contributor  to  the  Paradise  of  "Dainty  Deuices, 
our  readers  are  fully  acquainted  with  the  name  of  Wil- 
liam Hunnis.  His  dedication  is  an  acrostic  on  "  Robert 
Levcester,"  and  inscribed  "  to  the  right  honorable  and 
his  singuler  good  Lord,  the  Lorde  Robert  Dudley,  Earle 
of  Leycester,  Baron  of  Denbigh,  Knight  of  the  most 
Noble  Order  of  the  Garter,  Maister  of  theQuenes  Maies- 
ties  Horse,  and  one  of  her  Highnesse  moste  Honorable 
Priuye  Counsell,  [whom]  William  Hunnis  wisheth  en- 
xrease  of  Honor,  Health,  and  Dignitie,  vnto  the  will  & 
pleasure  of  the  most  Almightie."  Another  acrostic  on 
"  William  Hvnnis,"  is  addressed  "  To  the  friendlye 
reader,"  and  tells  him  not  to  look  for  "Jyled  wordes  and 
terines,  nor  phraze  that  poets  chuse,"  it  being  forbidden 
as  unmeet  for  such  a  work.  On  the  following  page  is 
a  coat  of  arms,  probably  the  author's;  where  three 
bee-hives  on  the  shield  explain  the  above,  and  other 
titles  of  his  works:  beneath  are  eight  lines  of  poetry. 
Then,  on  ne>t  page, 

"  T.  N.  In  the  Commendation  of  this  his  Frendes 
Trauayle. 

"  In  pryme  of  youth,  thy  pleasaunt  penne  depaincted  Sonets  sweete, 
Delighttull  to  the  greedy. eare,  for  yovithfull  humour  nieete. 
Therein  appeer'de  thy  pVegnaunt  wit,  and  store  of  fjrled  phraze. 
Enough  t'  astonne  the  doltishe  Drone  and  lumpishe  Loute  amaze. 


*  Ames  describes  this  work  as  octavo,  but  as  a  cropt  copy 
would  have  that  appearance,  it  may  be  doubted  if  there  was  more 
■than  one  edition.  It  is  extremely  rare,  and  for  title  I  am  indebted 
to  Herbert,  who  does  not  appear  to  have  seen  it.  It  was  sold  in 
John  Henderson's  sale,  1786,  No.  15+,  for  the  trifling  sum  of  7/. 

Thy 


648 

Thy  Enterludes ;  thy  gallaunt  Layes ;  thy  Rond'letts ;  and  thy  Sdngei  j 
Thy  Nosegay ;  and  thy  fPydo-ojes  Myte,  with  that  thereto  belonges; 
With  other  fancies  of  thy  forge,*  well  ha.mniered  by  skill, 
Declares  whatmeale  of  finest  graJnethou  grirtdest  in  thy  mill. 
By  which  wee  easly  knowe  thy  veine,  and  by  that  pittaunce  finde. 
What  golden  giftes  lodge  in  thy  breast,  and  aumbry  of  thy  ininde. 
Wee  see  thy  nature  link'te  to  arte,  thy  heart  to  learninges  lawe : 
As  who  doth  not  a  lion  knovce,  if  hfee  bu';  see  his  pawe  ? 
Oescendinge  then  in  riper  yeares  to  stUffe  of  further  reache, 
Thy  schooled  quill,  by  dfeper  skill  did  graiier  matters  teache. 
And  now  to  knit  a  perfect  knot,  in  winter  of  thine  age,  f 
Sutch  argument  thou  chosen  hast  for  this  thy  style  full  sage, 
As  farre  Surmomiles  tfie  residue  (though  al  in  oith  exceli)_ 
Atid  makes  thy  frendeS  to  ipye  thereat,  but  foes  with  spight  to 
This  worke  I  nieane  of  sacred  loi-e,  this  hault-Philosophye,  [swell, 
Which  through  ithy  jiaine  and  stayed  braine,  we  here  beliolde,  and 

see. 
In  curraunt  meeter,  roundiie  coucht,  and  soundly  tailglit  withall. 
As  they,  which  text  with  verse  conferre,  full  soone  acknowledge 

shal. 
Great  thankes  (no  doiibt)  thou  baste  deseru'de  of  all  that  thyrst 

for  grace, 
Syth  thils  thoii  minced  hast  the  foode,  which  good  men  al  embrace. 
The  h«ly  ghost,  from  Whom  thou  doost  tJiis  heauenly  Honnie  sucker 
Direct  thy  minde,  and  to  thy  penne  qlotte  most  happy  lucke. 

Thomas  Newton." 


*  There  are  not  sufficient  particulars .  known  respecting  the 
tvorks  of  Hunnis,  to  explain  the  sevferal  allusions  cornmencing  tlie 
above  complimentary  effusion  of  his  friend  Newton.  Of  his  sweet 
Sonets,  gallarit  Lays,  Rondeleti,  ahd  Sings,  a  few  have,  no  doubt, 
been  preserved  in  the  Paradise  of  Dainty  Deuises.  His  Enterludes j 
if  not  lost,  remain  unknown.  He  was  a  man  of  genius,  a  poetj 
and  for  a  time  Master  of  her  Majesty's  children  of  the  chapel; 
for  whose  theatrical  exhibitions  he  probably  employed  his  pen : 
the  parts  he  executed  in  the  Princely  Pleasures  of  Kenilixi'orth  Castle^ 
1575,  consisting  of  the  devise  of  Sibylla,  with  a  short  address  in 
rhime,  and  the  devise  of  this  delivery  of  the  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
whereof  the  verses  "  were  penned,  some  by  master  Hunnes,  some 
by  mastei- Ferris,  and  some  by  master  Goldingham,"  are,  on  the 
whole,  too  trifling  to  be  characterised  as  Enterltides.  Neither  is 
the  Nosegay  knoym,  unless  it  was  the  iHandfull  of  Honisuckles, 
which  seems  doubtful,  that  being  a  title  to  the  "  Widow'sjvlite, 
with  that  thereto  belongs."  This  last  was  licensed  to  Thomas 
Dawson,  1578,  and  probably  published  before  the  subject  of  the 
present  article,  though  the  earliest  edition  known  is'  by  H.  Den- 
ham,  1585.  Fiar  his  'I  other  fancies,"  consult  the  Tbeatrum  Pveta- 
rum,  1800,  p.  88,  Bibliographia  Poetica,  i8oz,  p.  25*,  and  preface 
o(  Paradise  of  Dainty  Deuices,  1810,  p.  xiv. 

f  This  line  confirms  the  probability  that  we  are  yet  withoilt 
cprreet  dates  for  his  earlier  production?, 

NoUvithstaqilini 


1549 

Notwithstanding  the  sageness  of  the  stile  and  perfec- 
tion of  this  offspring  of  our  author's  "  winter  of  age," 
there  can  be  no  dissent  to  the  assertion  of  Warton  that 
his  honey  is  "  no  longer  delicious."  He  has  versified 
the  whole  book  of  Genesis,  giving  occasional  genealogi- 
cal tables  in  illustration  of  his  text,  and  has  prefixed  in 
rhyme  "  the  argvment  of  this  booke."  The  second 
chapter,  as  one  of  the  shortest,  is  nbw  selectied,  with  the 
marginal  notfeSi 

"  Ths  contenies  of  ihts  second  Chapter. 

The  halhiuing  of  the  S'alath  day, 
The  Floaddes  fatura  of  Paradice  gay  ; 
tlowe  in  the  same  man  had  his  seate : 
The  tree  forbidden  hym  to  eale. 
How  Main  named  Creatures  all, 
How  Eve  wai  rnade,  that  first  did  fail. 
And  how  that  manage  did  hegynne, 
Bettveene  them  twayne  ere  they  did  sinne. 

Thus  was  the  lieaue~s,  *  ye.  earth,  ye.  sea, 

and  creatures  all  thereini 
In  sixe  dayes  made:  and  in  the  seaiie~th 
did  Godi  bur  (Jod  beginne, 
3.      To  rest  j-  from  all  his  labours  done, 
ahd  sanctified  the  same : 
To  bee  a  day  Of  rest  to  man, 
therein  to  prayse  his  name. 
3.      God  made  eath  plante  in  flelde  that  growthj 
before  in  earth  it  was. 
And  euery  hearbe  before  it  grewe, 
and  euery  other  grasse. 

*  That  is  the  sunne,  th'e  mone,  tlife  starVfes  and  planets,. 
t  The  7  day  dydOod  first  shewe  mercy,  for  that  hee  gaue  to  mart 
and  beast  that  day  rest ;  *heras  thte  day  before  theywere  daninecl 
to  perpetual  trauell  for  the  sinne  of  Adam,  the  wiiich  mercy  wai 
the  fiilfiUingeand  perferfio"  of  al  his  woiicBs  ;  if  God  had  not  ended 
iiis  tvorke  in  mercyetbe  7  day  and  abated  his  hard  iudgemc-t 
against  ma~kind  for  Adams  sin,  his  worke  had  not  bene  completi 
lie  perfit,  in  so  much  as  the  principall  creature  for  who"  he  made 
all  thinges  was  lost :  for  when  the  fiuali  ca^se  of  any  thinge  faylethj 
the  work  k  not  pompiet  nc-perfit., 

4.  And 


650 

4.  And  thus  before  that  any  rayne 

vpon  the  earth  was  founde, 
'  Or  any  man  lo  haue  in  vse 
the  tillage  of  the  ground. 

5.  A  mighty  mist  ascended  vp 

from  of  the  earth,  and  so 
Bewatcred  the  ftce  of  all  . 
the  earth  and  ground  belowe. 

6.  Then  man  that  of  the  earth  was  made 

a  liuiuge  soule  became. 
By  breath  of  life  that  God  did  breathe 
in  nosethrilles  of  the  man, 

7.  And'  from  the  first  God  planted  had 

a  garden  *  fayre  to  see. 
Wherein  he  set  this  man  hee  made 
the  keeper  for  to  bee. 
S.      And  from  the  earth  God  made  to  springe 
all  fruictfull  trees,  so  plaste: 
As  both  might  well  the  eye  delight, 
and  please  the  mouthe  in  taste. 
9.      Tvyo  trees  amyd  this  garden  grewe 
by  power  of  sacred  skill. 
The  one  of  lyfe,  the  other  was 
of  knowledge,  good  and  ill. 

10.  From  Eden  f  went  a  ryuer  foorth 

to  moyst  this  garden  than, 
Which  afterward  deuided  was, 
and  in  foure  heades  became. 

11.  And  Pishon  is  the  first  of  foure 

,  which  round  about  doth  goej 
The  gplden  land  of  Hauilah,  J 
wher  th'  onix  stone  doth  growe. 

12.  The  second  head  is  Gihon  cgld, 

which  coaipasseth  throughoute 
The  land  of  Ethiopia,  § 
with  water  round  aboute. 
IS.      The  third  is  named  Hydekel  || 
that  passeth  downe  alonge 
The  east  side  of  Assyria,  ** 

wyth  myghty  slreame  and  stronge. 

*  This  garden  is  called  Paradice,  and  is  estward  from  Eden, 
and  Paradice  is  also  called  Eden.     Isidore,  li.  15.  Cap.  ». 
f  Eden  signifieth  pleasures. 
J  Hauilah  is  a  country  ioyning  to  Persia  estward,  and  incly- 
neth  toward  the  west. 

§  Or  Cush.  II  Or  Tigris.  »*  Or  Asshyr. 

14.  And 


651 

1-^.      And  Euphrates,  *  the  fourth  is  caldej 
■whych  fruictfulnes  doth  showe: 
And  in  the  same  do  many  gemnties, 
and  precious  stones  foortlie  growe. 

15.  Almyghty  God  this  Adam  toke 

and  in  this  garden  set. 
The  same,  to  dresse,  the  same  to  keepe, 
and  of  the  frnicte  to  eate. 

16.  Of  euery  tree  that  therein  was 

God  bade  him  eate  his  fil. 
Except  the  tree  that's  in  the  mid'ste, 
of  knowledge  good  and  ill.  f 

1 7.  God  sayd,  that  day  thou  eat'st  thereof 

thou  for  the  same  shah  dye, 
Therfore  see  that  thou  toche  it  pot, 
the  taste  thereof  to  trye. 

18.  It  is  not  good  (said  God)  that  man 

should  be  alone  I  see: 
I  wyll  an  helper  make  to  him, 
companion  his  to  bee. 

19.  Out  Of  the  ground  did  God  then  mak? 

ech  beast  vpon  the  earth. 
And  euery  foule  in  th'  ayre  that  flyes, 
and  all  that  draweth  breathe. 

20.  And  God  did  bringe  all  beastes  and  foules, 

to  view  of  Adam's  eye,  J 
Which  was  to  see  what  kynde  of  name 
■    he  then  would  call  them  by. 

21.  And  Adam  called  euery  beast, 

and  euery  fowle  by  liame. 
As  wee  do  vse  at  this  s.ime  day 
to  nominate  the  same. 

22.  In  slumber  then  was  Adam  cast,  *) 

and  God  a  ribbe  did  take    ■  { 

Out  from  his  side,  and  of  the  same  \ 

a  woman  he  did  make,  f 

And  fild  the  place  with  Jleshe  agayne,  | 

and  when  bee  did  awake:  J 

23.  This  is  (sayd  he)  bone  of  my  bone, 

and  fleshe  of  mine,  1  see: 

•  Or  Pera"th. 
f  The  tree  was  forbidde  Adam  btfore  Eue  was  made. 
J  Or  co~pelled  theim  to  present  themselues  vnto  Ada".  Cap.  7. 9. 

Virago 


6'52 

Virago  *  shal  shee  called  heCj 
as  taken  out  of  mee  : 

24.  And  for  this  cause  shal  euery  one 

his  parentes  deare  forsake : 
And  cleatie  vnto  bis  wife  alone, 
and  both  one  fleshe  shall  make. 

25.  Thus  were  they  left  in  Paradice, 

all  nak'dej  and  vnasham'de : 

Because  as  yet  no  fact  was  done, 

by  them  for  to  bee  blam'de." 


J.  H, 


%  Old  Musical  Airs. 


"  1  thinck  that  if  the  hills  the  plaines  and  tnounfaines. 
And  woods  and  waters,  knew  the  great  distemper 
Of  this  my  lyfe,  it  should  not  bee  concealed: 
But  thorow  such  by  pathes  and  sauage  fountains, 
I  know  not  how  to  search  for  trew  lone  semper. 
That  by  reason  each  one  may  bee  reuealed. 


Come  louers  foorth  addresse  yoU  to  admyer. 
At  hir  whose  locks  are  like  the  golden  wyer. 
Curiously  wrought  to  set  mens  harts  on  fyer, 

iii. 

Delay  breieds  daunger,  and  how  may  that  be  wrested^ 
By  slaight  to  shun  delaying: 

*  Shee  had  that  name  till  God  reproved  her  for  her  fault, 
t  Alt-vs.  Madrigals  to  Jim  'voyces,  Celected  out  of  tie  best  af* 
■proued  Italian  Authors,  by  nomas  Morky,  Gentleman  of  hir  Maiesties 
Royall  Chappell.  At  London  printed  by  Thomas  Esle.  1598.  The  dedi- 
cation says  "To  the  \yorshipfull  Sir  Geruis  Clifton,  Knight. 
Good  Sir.  I  euer  held  this  sentence  of  the  poet,  as  a  canon  of  my 
.creede ;  That  'whm  God  hueth  not,  they  hue  not  Musique.  For  as  the 
Art  of  Musique  is  one  of  the  mostHeauenly  gifts,  so  the  very  loue 
of  Musique  (without  art)  is  one  of  the  best  engrafted  testimonies 
4{  Heauens  loue  towards  vs." Contains  xxiiii  Songs. 

Veric 


^53 

Verie  vik  is  that  vice  and  euer  detested^ 

Each  loue  sate  bewraying: 
Thrice  happie  men,  doe  say-,  is  that  sweet  wooing, 
Where  loue  may  still  bee  noted  swift  in  doing. 

iv. 

Doe  not  tremble,  but  stand  fast 
Peare,  and  faint  not:  hope  well,  haue  well,  my  sweeting 
Loe  where  I  come  to  thee  with  friendly  greeting: 

Now  ioyne  with  mee  thy  hand  fast : 

Loe  thy  true  loue  saint's  thee, 

Whose  jeme  thou  art,  and  so  he  still  reput's  thee, 


If  silent  then  griefe  torments  mee. 

If  I  speake  your  patience  moueth, 

Hating  him  that  loueth ; 

But  when  sweet  hope  appereth, 

My  countenance  it  cheareth : 
And  kneeles  in  hutpble  wise  for  pittie  pleading. 

That  these  my  lines  so  pensiue 

May  no  way  seem  offensiue : 
But  rather  work  rjiy  ioye  by  )^our  sweet  reading, 

vi.  (first  part.)  * 
Thfe  nightingale  that  sweetly  dofh  coniplaine. 

His  yong  once  lost,  or  for  his  louing  mate: 
To  fill  the  heauens  and  fields  himselfe  doth  frame, 

With  sweet  and  dolfuU  tunes  to  shew  his  state: 
So  all  the  night  to  doe  I  am  full  fayne, 

llerperobring  my  hard  hnp  and  cruell  fatej 
for  I,  alone,  am  cause  of  all  my  paine. 

That  gods  might  dye  I  learnd  to  know  too  lata. 

vii.  (secopd  part.) 

O  false  deceit,  who  can  himself  assure, 

Those  two  faire  lights  aye  clearer  then  the  sun. 

Who  euer  thought  to  see  made  so  obscure : 

Well  now  I  see  Fortune  doth  me  procure. 
To  Icarne  by  proofe,  in  this  case  that  I  runne, 

That  nothiDg  long  doth  please,  ne  can  indure." 

J.  H. 

«  Both  parts  have  the  name  of  Peter  PhWips  as  author. 

J  Pooke 


654 

^  A  Booke  of  Proclamaiions,  puhlished  since  the  le- 
ginning  of  his  Maiesties  most  happy  Reigne,  ouer 
England,  &c.  Vntill  this  present  Moneth  ofFebr.  3. 
^nno  Dom.  1609.  Imprinted  at  London  hy  Robert 
Barker,  Printer  to  the  Kings  most  Excellent  Maiestie. 
Cum  Priuiiegio.  Fol.  pp.  266^ 

About  130  proclamations,  put  forth  by  King  James  in 
the  first  ten  years  of  his  reign,  are  preserved  in  this 
volume,  having,  when  complete,  continuations  to  5  Feb. 
1612.  The  following  amusing  articles  are  not  the  least 
valuable  of  this  historical  collection. 

"  A  Proclamation  for  the  deferring  of  S.  lames  Faire, 
for  ccrtaine  dayes. 

"  The  care  we  haue  to  preuent  all  occasions  of  "dispersing 
the  Infection  amongst  our  people,  doesh  sufficientljr  appeare  by 
our  former  Proclamations,  ;ind  that  for  that  cause  we  are  con- 
tented to  forbeare  at  our  Coronation  all  such  ceremonies  of 
honour  and  pompe  vsed  by  our  Progenitors  as  may  draw  ouer 
great  confluence  of  people  to  our  Citie.  For  which  cause  also 
beuig  informed  that  vsually  about  the  day  of  our  Coronation 
intended,  and  for  some  dayes  after,  a  Faire  hath  bene  vsed  to 
be  kept  in  the  fields  neere  our  house  of  S  James,  and  City  of 
Westminster;  commoiily  called  S  lames'  Faire;  which  if  it 
should  hold  at  the  time  accusiomed,  being  the  very  instant  of 
our  Coronation,  could  not  but  draw  resort  of  people  to  that 
place,  much  mors  vnfit  to  bee  neere  our  Court  and  Traine, 
then  such  as  by  former  Proclarnations  are  restrained.  Where- 
fore we  haue  thought  it  necessary  to  put  off  the  keeping  of 
that  Faire  for  some  few  dayes :  And  to  the  end  that  all  men 
may  take  notice  thereof,  doe  publish  the  same  to  all  mens 
knowledge,  Requiring  those  who  are  Lords  of  the- Faire,  or 
otherwise  interessed  therein,  That  according  to  this  our  plea- 
sure, they  doe  forbeare  to  hold  the  sayd  faire,  and  to  resort 
thither,  for  (he  space  of  eight  or*  ten  dityes  after  the  first  day 
of  the  vsuall  holding  thereof:  Licensing  them  after  that  time 
to  kcppe  the  same  as  ihey  hane  vsed  to  do.  Furthermore  to 
auoyd  outT  great  resort  to  our  Citit-s  of  London  and  Westmin- 
ster at  that  time,  for  the  cause  of  our  Coronation,  we  haue 
thought  i;"o6d  to  limit  theTraines  of  Noblemen  and  Gentlemen 

tiauing 


6^5 

hauing  necessary  Sernice  or  attendance  there,  to  a  number  cer- 
laine;  viz.  Eatles,  to  sixteene,  Bisbops  and  Earons  to  ten. 
Knights  to  Sixe,  ftnd.Gentlemeh  to  foure:  which  numbers  we 
require' each  of  them  to  obserue,  and  not  to  exceed  as  they  ten- 
der our  fauonr.  Giuen  at  our  Castle  of  Windsor,  the  11.  day 
of  July  in  the  first  yeere  of  our  Reigne  of  England,  France  niid 
Ireland,  and  of  Scotland  the  sixe  and  thirtieth.  Anno  Dom. 
1603." 

"  A  Proclamafion  for  the  annikilaling  of  Commissions 
formerly  granted  for  taking  vp  of  Hounds,  &c. 

"  Wherevpon  our  first  comming  to  the  succession  of  this 
Kingdome,  at  the  sute  of  diuers  persons  who  had  or  pretended 
to  haue  from  the  Queene  of  faraoiis  memory  our  sister  de- 
ceased. Commissions  as  annexed  of  course  to  seueral  Offices 
which  they  held  for  the  taking  vp  of  Hounds,  Greyhounds, 
Spaniels,  and  doggcs  of  other  shirts  accustomed  for  Venery, 
Faulconry,  or  other  sports  of  Princes ;  Wee  did  renew  vnto 
them  their  said  Commissions,  and  grant  the  like  to  some 
others  who  had  no  offices  vpon  diuers  suggestions  made  vnto 
vs  which -Commissions  we  haue  since  bene  informed  from  -di- 
uers parts  of  our  Realme  that  inferiour  Officers  who  haue  bens 
trusted  with  them  haue  abused  and  do  dayly  abuse,  contrary  to 
the  meaning  of  the  same,  which  was  to  be  executed  no  further 
foorth  then  the  necessity  of  our  sernice  should  require :  And 
forasmuch  also  as  we  liaue  had  good  proof'e  thai  Gentlemen  & 
Others  who  delight  in  the  like  pastime  of  Hunting  and  haukiiig 
haue  &  wil  be  ready  at  all  times  of  their  owne  good  will  and 
respect  to  our  rccienti.ias  to  furnish  vs  of  sufficient  niimb=;r  of 
dogges  of  ail  soits,  which  we  shall  haue  cause  to  vse  when  they 
shall  be  informed  that  we  haue  need  of  them  :  We  haue  there- 
fore found  it  vnnecessary  to  continue  the  execution  of  any  our 
commissions  heretofore  giuen  for  that  purpose,  and  do  hereby 
notifie  the  same  to  all  our  subiscts  and  expresly  charge  and 
command  all  those,  who  haue  any  such  Comniissious  or  VVar- 
rants  from  vs  vnder  our  great  Stale,  or  any  other  our  Scales, 
that  they  doe  notondy  forbeare  to  put  the  same  in  execution 
from  henceforth  ;  but  also  do  bring  in  and  deliuer  vp  the  said 
Commissions  and  Warrants,  into  our  Chancery,  or  any  other 
office,  where  they  haue  bene  Sealed,  within  the  space  ofTwen- 
tie  dayes  after  the  publishing  hereof,  as  they  will  answere  the 
contrary  at  their  perill.  Willing  also  and  commanding  our 
Attourney  general!,  and  all  other  of  our  counsell  learned,  that 
whensoeuer  they  shall  reciine  information  that  any  person  \vh,o 

h;uh 


6S^ 

hath  had  such  Commission  from  vs,  shall  after  the  time  sboue 
Jimitted  execute  the  same,  that  they  do  prosecute  their  oiffence 
therein,  as  in  case  of  contempt  by  all  such  wayes  and  meanes 
as  in  like  ease  is  vsuall.  Giuen  at  our  Honour  of  Hampton 
Court  the  27:  day  of  September  in  the  third  yeere  of  our 
Reigne  of  Great  BritainCj  France  and  Ireland  Anno  Dom. 

^005." 

*  * 


^  A  Forme  of  Christian  ppllicie  gathered  out  of  Frphch 
ly  Geffray  Ffinton.  A  worke  very  necessary  to  a/ 
sorls  of  people  generally,  as  vjherein  is  contained 
doctrine  both  universall,  and  special  touching  the  in-, 
stittiiion  of  al  Cliristian  profession:  and  also  con- 
venient particularly  for  all  Magistrates  and  Gover-,^ 
nours  of  common  weales,  for  their  more  happy  regi- 
lyient .according  to  God.  Mon  heur  viendra.  Im- 
printed at  London  hy  H.  Middleton  for  Rafe  Newr 
lery,  dwelling  in  Fleelstreat  a  Utile  alone  t/ie  Con- 
duit. Annv  1574-  4/0.  pp.  352,  besides  Dedication, 
and  Table. 

It  is  dedicated  to  Sir  William  Gecill,  Lord  Burleigh, 
from  the  Author's  Chamljer  in  the  Black  Friers,  this 
xvi  day  of  May,  1574. 

The  copy  from  whence  this  is  taken  belonged  to  Arch, 
bishop  Parker,  whose  autograph  it  has,  and  whose  arms 
are  on  the  cover. 

B. 


END    OF   THE    SECOStD    VOLUME. 


T.  Bensley,  Printer, 
Bolt  Court,  Fleet-street,  Lontloi). 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


A- 

Abfalom,   Story  of,   illullratcs  jtl)  Com- 

mandqieqt,  by  .<».  W.  3 1 
.Aehes,  Tio 
AAs  of  Scotland,  222 
Aires  U.  t(an|lation  from  Beza,  283 
Affdbility,  tales  of,  269 
Albion  ^een,  HiA:>iy  of,  190 
Alcock,'B..af  Ely,  fermon.by,  532    , 
Allemaigne,    various  o},d    ones    named, 

340-i 
Allen,  £dw.  pla)  ed  Dr.  Faullus,  104 
Allen,  John,  the  Englifl)  Orpheus,  260 
AlluAons  to  Bowman,  f.arnyears.  Men  of 
Gotham,  Jack  a  Nail,  Skoggin,  Torn 
Drudge,  Nick  Noddy,  &c.  44S-6 
Amadis  de  GauU,  by  A-  Miind^y,  561, 

S71.     - 
Angler  defcribed,  560 
Angling,  catalogue  qf  books  on,  3^3 
Angling,  Secrets  of,  reprinted,  465 
Ann,  cQ,of  Lewis  XU.  honoured  a  poet, 

272 
Ajiflpy,Sit  F,  Dedication  to,  236 
Apes  of  P^ris  Garden  noticed,  88 
Apparel  of  a  Prodigal,  88 
Apparel,  the .fupeifluity  of,  271 
Archery,  promoted  by  the  Citizens,  411 
Armin,  Robin,  Lines  to,  261 
AriBotle,  Problems  of,  448 
Arundel,   E.   of,  JJedications   to,    424, 

*39  •  ■  ■       ,    - 

Alhton,  Peter,  upon  the  Turk's  Chroni- 
cles, 9^ 
Aftrological  DIfcourfe,  by.R.  Harvey,  42 

: addition  thereto,  43 

Avelbury,  Robert  de,  by  Hearne,  78 
Auale  Lemeke,  Commemoration  on  Bon- 
ner, B  ofLondpn,  287 
Author,,  to  the   }-icenfer  of  the  Prefs, 

241 
jiureliji,.443 

/Lwdcley,  Johii,  12,  verfes  by,  i  j 
Aylmer,  B., of  London,.  44 

B 
"  -Rubles  in  the  .Eyes,"  poetical  figure, 

32JS 
fiacon.  Sir  t:  Dedication  to,  141 
^Idiyiu's  Funerals  jii  £dward  Vl.  s.7> 

J^tladl from,  98 

1^01..  IS. 


Bale  and  Lelandj^o     ■ 
Ballads,  titles  of  fome  old,  jfj 
Balmford's  Dialogue  on  Cardsand  Tables, 

41,. 
Bannockburn,  battle  of,  638 
Banquet  of  Dainty  Conceits|  by  A.  Mun- 

"'^yi- 337-     Analyfis  of' volume,  3,39 
Barker,  W.  tranC  of  Gelli,  207      '* 
Barker's  Avt  of  Angling,  346 
Baltard,  T.  Lines  to,  257 
Beadles,  82 
Beaumont,  Fr.  121 
Beef  Hall,  81 

Bellenden's  Hift.  of  Scotland,  634 
Bellum  Eiafmi,  Extraft  from,  i.il 
Benediftus  Abbi|s,  by  Hearne,  65 

account  of,  LiyTyrrill, 

66 
Benn^t's,  J.  Madrigalls,  428 
Berncrs,  Juliani,   celebrated  for  s^c(;om- 
plidiments,  3J3 

accoiiqt  flf,  by  Hearne,  73 

Berthelet, Thomas,  7 
Bell's,  T.  treatife  on  Angling,  3S8 
Betty's,  W.  Tirana  and  Tbefeus,  436  , 
Beza's  Cordial  for  a  Sick  Confcience,  2,81 
Billingley's,   N.  Infency  of  the  World, 

.£43 
Bifliop's,  Rev.  Mr.  Origin  of  an  Epigram, 

109 
Black  Year,  by  Anthony  Ni.xon,  ^53  , 
Bodine's,   J.  replication  to,    by    0-  de 

Malynes,  131 
Bolen  Anna,  Letters  to,  83 
Bonner,  alias  Savage,  B.  ofLondoni  diiige 

upon, 2*7 
^— —  fatirical  verfes  upon,  by  Pafquin, 

288 
Borde's,  Andrew,  Mad  Men  of  Gotjtfoi. 

67        ... 
— —  his  peregrination,  6g 
Bourchier,  Arch,  of  Cant.  11 
Bourne's,  W.  Regimen  for  the  Sea,  oj^ 
Bowlker's'  Art  of  Angling,  367 
Boyle,  Hon.  R.  362  ;  .    - 

Breton,  N.  Pafqiiil's  piafs  andpaj^^  njjtj, 

132;  fpecimeiisofi  233^.    ' 
Bridges,  Lady  Slii.  VBrfes  to,  1S9  , 

Bridgeman,  O.  Epigraoj  upon,  3 11 

»  "  Broke, 


6s8 


INDEX. 


Broke,   A-   notices  of,  113;     his  rare 

poem  of  Romeus  and  Juliet,  1 14 
Brooke's,  C.  .uneral  poem  on  Sir  A.  Chl- 

chefter,  2;{ 
■  verfcs  to,  by  Wither,  237 

I     ,  extraAs  from  poem,  258 

Brooke,  F.  alias  Little  Geutlemm,  2S} 
Brooke's,  R.  Artof  Angling,  367 — 365 
Browne,  M.   account  ot,  357}  eclogues 

by.  366 
B'.  T.  verfes  fin  Heywood  and  Studley> 

Burnell,  H.  fmgby,  174. 
Burton's  Tom   Thumb  and    Miller  ^f 
Abingdon,  6j 

C 
Cambridge,  addrefs  to  the'  Univerfity  of, 

439 
Campion,  Dr.  Epigram  upon,  261 
Card  Maker's  Supplication,  loj 
Cafe'si  Dr.  John,  piaife  of  mufic,  J41!; 
'  verfes  as  a  gratification  to,  by  Watfoii, 

^^'^^  l^  ' 

Carew,  T.  Stanzas,  by,  318 

C-irpet  Knight;  that  term  explained,  86'; 

Epigrams  upon,  85,  26j 

Cartwrlght  William,  435 

Caveat  for  Common  Cui  fetors,  515 

Cave,  William,  66 

Caxton,  W.  9,  33 

-'s  Chronicles,  by  Julian  Notary, 


53 


•  Story  ofK.  Lear,  57R 


Cffifar,  Sir  Jul.  Dedication  to,  538 
Certain  Elegies  done  by  excellent  Wits, 

I2t 

Chaplain  of  Henry  VIII.  unacquainted 

With  all  his  livings,  293 
Chapman,  G.fong  by,  164. 
Charfey's  Fiflieiman,  368 
Charles  I.  26  ;  Letters  printed  by  Heatne, 

6<) 
Charles  IL  27 
Charlett,  Dr.  601 
Chartier,  Allen,  the  poet,  272 
Chaucer,  272 
■     '       ■•  memoirs  of,  4 

•  his  prophecy,  200 


.94 


—  extras  from,  628 

—  words,   their  antiquity, 


1548, 


Ch^iuCer,  Thomas,  fon  of  the  poet,  a 
Cheatiur.  defcribed,  ij 
Cheetham's  Anglers,  363 
Chettle,  Henry,  fong  by,  184 
Chicheftir,  Sir.  A.  funeral  Elegies  upon, 

229,231 
Child  with  difguftihg  appetite,  z^S 
Choicp,  Chance,  find  Change,  558 
Chriftian  Policy,  by  G.  Fenton,  6j<r 
Chronicle  df  St.  Albans,  ii 
Churchey's  Hiifltandijr,  3J^ 
Cicell  T.  his  finpiilar  poem,  93 


Clare,  E.  of,  verfes  on  the,  573 

Clergy  in  their  Colours,  157 

Coclc  L.irel,  1 2 

Cokdin,  Mrs.  Ann,  Epigram  upon,  45^ 

Colcain,  'fhomas.  Epigram  10,4^3 

Cokayne'c    Epigram   to   Commoners    of 

Trin.  Coll.  449 
Cokayne,  Sir  Alton,  Memoir  of,  449,  £j 
vetfes  by,  449> 4io»  45 1. 4i2. 

4S3  4iJ,  4i7;  perfons  to  whom  he 

ad-relied  Epigrams,  460—2 
—— — —  upon  his  Wife,  453 

— — his  works,  4^3—4 

Colman's,  W.  Dance  Machabrc,  463 
CommemoraCion   or  Dirge    of   Bonnei, 

287 
Complaint  lif  Roderic  Mors,  17S 
Confeifijn  of  Faith,  by  the  Sweferlaads, 

293 
Ctirdial  for  a  lick  Confcience,  283 
CoHingelbey,  George,  68 
Cotfal  Shepherds,  a  ballad,  324 
Cotton,  C.  verfes  upon,  4$  j 
Cotton  Library,  burning  of,  6g 
Covetoufnefs,  the  elfeds  of,  269 
Counfel  of  St.  Ifidore,  447 
Cuuntercuffe  given  to  Martin  J'.  124 
I  continuation  of  it,  129   • 

Country  Gentlemen,  purfuits  of,  4^8 
Court  and  Kitchen  of  J.  Cromwell,  413- 
Courtier's  Serving  men,  26} 
Craft  beguiles  fubtilty,  1 08 
Cralhaw,  K.  verfes  by,  ^74 
Crafy  Cold,  poetically  defcribed,  98 
Cromwell's,  J.  Court  and  Kitchen,  413 
Cromwell, Oliver,  27 

— —  Richard,  27 

•> " Epigram  to,  311 

Crowley's  Information  againft  oppreffors 

of  the  Commons,  201 
Troydon,  its  Smithy,  348- 
Ciirtefy  Man,  his  chatafter,  14 
Cullom  Houfe  Rates,  1^4^,  397,  con- 
tinued, J03 

D. 
Dance    Machabie,     or    Death's    Duell, 

463—4 
Dan  Hew's  Adventure,  593 — 600 
Daniel,  Epigrams  on,  120,2^8 
Daniel's  Rural  Sports,  3^^, 
Darby's,  E.  of,  pavin  for  the  orpharibft, 

161 
Darell,  fiimily  of,  6x9 
Davenant,  the  egregious  poet,  312 
Davies,  Sr.  John,  Epigram  to,  259 
Davies,  John,  auihor  of  O  Viinam,  247 
'  of  Hereford,  Wit's    pil« 

grimage,  247  ' 

— ' account  of,  248 

•  Epigrams  un  his  relatiahs. 


friends,   wife,    miftrefs,   pupi  s,    ifi 
felf,  248—2^0 

— — Scourge  of  Folly,  156 }  Ejii* 

gnms 


index: 


6S9 


{rams  «n  Baftard;  Ha'rrmErton;  Daniel; 

Jonfon;  Inigo  Jones ;  Speed ;  Sir  Jjhri 

Dwies;     Fulke    CrevJlej'  Royilon ; 

Allrn  i    Owen;    Fitzjeft'ery;    Cam- 

p^oii;  anil  Ariiiin',  »57^-;86r 
Pavles,  John,  Wit's  Bedlam,  fpecimens 

of,  i6t— 4 

-  b'i  own  Epitaph,  364. 
Davis,- John,  "erfcs  by,  465 
D^y,  Jahn,  fong  bv,  166 
Dead  Man's  Sjng,  136 
De  B.-cicenh  'm,  Epuph  on,  69 
Debtor  and  Creditor  Account  book,  6oj 
Decker,  T.  fong  by,  164 

•— Raveven's  Almanack,  5J3 

D-^.cncc  oJ  good  Women,  jji 

Dennv's  Angling,  354 

Peuy's  Trt-afure  o.  a  good  mind,  5S 

Dialogue  on  Cards  and  Tabltrb,  41 

Dial  of  Deiliny;  by  Mapief,  46  . 

Diamond  of  Devotion,  313 

Dictionary  foj:  Children.,  582 

D  fterjng  Worlhips,  Ly  Taylor,  434 

Piieflion  tor  ihe  Health  of  MagiArates, 

414 — 18 
Difqouilive  Problem,  by  Harvey,  24J 
Difplay  of  Duty,  by  U  Wright,  49 
Ditty  by  A.  Munday,  341 
Diviue  Poems,  by  Geo,  W.  29 
Doctrinal  of  Piinces,  230 
Dorfet,  Countefs  of,  Dedication  to,  1^4 
Double  Armed  M^n,  by  Neade,  411 
Douglas  G.  Palace  of  Honour,  420, 
Prdke,  Sir  Francis,  his  honourable  life's 

'  commendation,  by  Ciiarles  Fitzgeffrey, 

116 
Drake,  Lady,  Sonnet  to,   1 1 8, 
Dramatic  Writers,  fongs  by,  163 
Drayton,  M,^izi, 
Diyden's  notice  of  Wither,  jo 
Dugdale's  Monafticon  Anglicanum,  6j 
Dajidale,  Sir  W.  vetfes  to,  451 
Duport,  Mr.  Epigram  to,  212 
Dyer,  Edward,  Dedication  to,  278 

E. 
Eaton's  De  Fafti  Anglicls,  43S 
Ecchoes  from  fixth  Trumpet,  zj( 
Edward  of  England's  Letter,  194, 
Edward  111,  drefs  of  his  period,  si 
Edward  Vlth,  Funeral  Poem  on,  97 
.           I  Prayer  lor,  loz 

ILels,  not  wholefome,  417 
Eels  found  in  turf,  299 
Erwabeth  <^-i  I,  26, 
.        diftr;i£tions  during  her  lick* 


nefo,  184 


187 


burlefque  Ode,  by,  186 
Tears,  a  poem,  by  C.  Lever, 


Elegi'  s  upon  Sir  H.  Vere,  576 
Elyot,  Sir  Thomas,  Prohemy  to  know- 
ledge   which  niaketti   a   wife   man, 


Elyroi's  DbArinal  of  Pririees,'  229 
leflfQions  by,  230 

Defence  of  good  Women,  231     i 

England's  command  on' the  S.as,  161 
England's  view  in  un. talking  two  para- 
doxes, 13 1, 
Englilhman  defcribed,  52 
En^lifli  poets,  Hpywood,  Phaer,  Googe, 
Nev^l,  Golding,  and    Edwarde;    de- 
fcribed,  374—i 
Enemy   to  Unthiiftinefs,  by  G.  Whet- 

ftone,  601 
Epigrams,  by  Fitzgeftrey,  122 
Ena  Paier,  to  the  Huibandman,  81 
Eirex,  E,  of.  Dedication  to.  328 

F. 
Page's,  Mrs,  Fame's  Roll,   ^71,  poetic 

fprinklinES,  J73 
Fairfax's  Sp  rtlman,  }68 
Fame's  RuU,  by  Mrs.  Page,  ^71 
Fardle  ot  Facions,  by  Watreman,  424—7 
Farmer's  Englifh  Madrigals,  427 
Faftiions  in  drefs  temp.  Eliz.  55 

Eiiw.  HI.  a 

Female  S-x  cenfur'd,  534 — 5 
Fenton's  ChriCian  Policy,  656 
Ferr.s,  d^nge^Oue  adventure,  552 
Field,  N,  fongs  by,  16S,  171 
Fingerer,  a  knavifli  ddcoy,  ij 
Fitzgeifrey's  C.  poem  on  Sir  F.  Drake, 
116 

—  Sonnet  by,  1 1 8 

— — -^—  Epigrams,  1 19 

■^— — ^—  Cenotaphian    Commemora- 


—  Epigram  to,  260 

—  vuries  by,  267 

—  Henry,  Epigrams,  121 
•  lines  to,  121 


Filb,  unwholefumc  food,  415 

Fiflier  P.  quatrain  to,  jr  j 

Fiv:   BmUs  of   Philofophical    Comfort, 

>S4 

Fleming's  Diamond  of  Devotion,  313 

Fletcher,  Phineas,  fngby,  172 

. -  Puems  on  Love,    Mufic,   and 

Death,  17J 
Folly  in  Prut,  323 
Fooipathtf)  Felicity,  314 
Foreft  of  Varieties,  299 
Fortune,   SirTho.  Eljot's  reflefliona  on, 

the  adverfity  of,  227 
Fragmeiita  Propbetica,  26 
Franck's  Northern  Memoirs,  364 
Frater,  a,  defcnbed,  1  3 
iFraternity  of  vagabonds,  12 
Fraunce's  Shephetd's  Logic  and  Lawyer'* 

L"gic,  276 — 7 

I  1 Dedications,  278 

— — —  Parallel  Pall'ages,  279 

__ —  his  fecond  Eclogue  of  Virgil> 


Friendfhip,  yerfes  upon,  4^ 
u  «  a 


Frj's 


66o 


IN'DEXt 


Fi7't  Tr»ia-  <jf  thtClfcl#  in!  diek  Co- 
lours, 1^7 
Fulh,  Ui-:  Sermons  by,  9^,  i^i^ 
Funeciil  ExuAions  by  Clergyf,  i^z 
Funeral  l^oein  on  Edw.  VJ.<  gf 

G. 
6aland,  a  treatifeby  hySgate,  jigi 
Qalaor and  the  Oamf'l,  565. 
Oalliard,  Earl  (Sf  Oxford's,  341' 
Gardiner  s,    B.  accufation-  of  Elizabrth, 

188 
G.  B.  fuppofed  Barnaby  Goo^,<6i9 
Gelli,  the  FJotentine  Cooper,  -zoy 
Gentleman  defcribdd',  joz- 
I  fupplement  theiito^  304 

Gentlemen's  Recreations,  363 
Gentlewoman's  pofty.  Si 
Gilbert's  Filhing  in  Hackney  River,  3*2 
Gilthead,  whole  fame  fi{h,  417 
Glaftonbucy,  Hearne's,  70 
Godwin,  2,  4,  5,  9, 
Golden  Fleece,-  by  Vaiighan,  274 
Golden  Grove,-  by  fame,  265 
Gower(  John,  Memoirs-of,  z 
Gower,  sir  Johni  arms  of,  x 
Granger,  30 

Grantham^s  Italian' Grammflfr,  377 
Grateful  Acknowledgement,  bf  G.  Wi- 
ther, 378 
Green's,  Robert,  defcriptioij  of  an  Eng- 

lilhrnan,  173 
Greville,  Sir  F.  Moiirriing  Song  on,-  322 
'  lines- on  his  Muftapha,  2'^- 

Grove  of  Graces,  bf  Fleming,  3 1 7 
Gryndall's  Book  of  Hawking,  iic.  3^3 
Guide  to  Goclli'nefs,  by  Fliniing,  3T5 
Gull,  defcribed,  ^04  '       " 

Gurlyn,  lines  by,  I2t< 
Guiliing  Tears  of  Godly  Stjrrowy  148 

H. 
Had.I  Wift,  explained;  £55 
Haies,- Sir  J'.  D^dication-to,  25-3 
Hannay's  Defcription  of  a  Carpet  tCnight, 

86 
,  Ballad  on  Croyden,  348 

Harborn,  J.  Dedication  to,  ^5 
Harman's  Caveat  againft  Vaga°bonds,  12 
•^— Caveat  for  c&m'mon  Curfetors, 

S'S 

— • verfes  by,  ^22 

Harpur's  Sonnet, -160 
Harrington,  Sir  J.  Epigram  to,  2?7 
Harvey,  G.  addreffed  by  his  Brother,  4^ 
Harvey,   John,  appeafes  his   Father-in- 
law,  4S 
— — -  Upon  Prophecies,  245 
Harvey';,  Brlch.,  Aftrological  Dfeourfes, 

42 
.  Effect  upon  the  Populace,  43 

Howard's  Line  ol' Liberality,  155 
Hearnt,    Catalogue  Raifonne  of  Works' 

publiflied  by,  65 
Heaven's  Glory^  by  Rowlands,  ^5 1 


Heel-tiifadinj^erfe?,  s'jij 
,  Hemlngford's  Hiftory,.  bjr  Hearno,  5! j. 
Henrjr  IV.  knighted  Sir  A    Chichisfltl't 

33» 
Henry  VIII.  Letters  to  A.  Boleyn,  Sjj 
Herbert's  Secunda  vox  PopuU,  4!3!j 
Hereford,  city  of.  Epigram  upon-,  2^4 
Hermaphrodibes  and  Salmacis,  344- 
Heydon,  Sir  Chr.  Dedicationto,  j  j  j. 
HeywoodjT.fongsby^  166, 16$,  i6g^  17,3 
H.  I.  a  writer  unknown,  349 
Hibber,  Gibber,  16 
Hierufahim,  Emperor  of,-  2«2 
Hill  of  Perfeaioni.i33 
Hilt0n'sElegyon  LaivM,  63. 
Hiftory  of  Lord  Mendoaae,'^23  ;.  dedica* 

tioii,  524;  analyfddi  ^25: — 32;  Con- 

chifion,  jSiy 
Hive  Full  of  Honey,  &47 
H.  N.  fuppdl^d.  Nathaniel  Hookes^  I2f- 
Holibufh's  News  concerning  the  councel 

holden  by  the  Emperor  of  Germany, 

^9+  .... 

Hoi  and.  Admonition  lent  to,  206 

Holy  Calendar,  by  Eaton,  4  j8 

Hounds,  proclamation  refpeaing>'  655 

Howel,  ji  Epigram  upon,  312 

Hunnis's  feven  Sobs,-  &c.  90 

Hitt«  fiiil  of  Huney,  647  i  many 


pieces  unknown,  64S 
Hunt  is  up,  341 

Jackof  Dovfer's  Qiieft  of  Inquiiy,  ijj 
Jacob's"  Country  Gerttlernan,  ^66 
[ames,  K.  prayer  foi-,'by  Hunnis,  j)'l-^z 
a  notable  poet,  273 


Jealous  Man  ha^  hie  Fortune  toldj  88 
llndians,  their  fa'th,  307 
Infancy  of  the  World,  643 ' 
Information  for  the  Poor  COrnMoilSi  39* 
Jonfohi  Fletcher,  and  Middleton,-  rjj 
Jonfon,  B.  Epigrams  upon,-  2J8V  264 
Jones,  Inigo,  Epigram  upon,  2^8 
Irifli  Footman's  Poetry,  4.33 
Ifidore,  Counfels  of  Saint,  447 
Italian  Grammar,  by  Grantham,  jff 

K. 
(Catherine,  Q^and  Dulce  of  SaffoUe,  Ra« 

mance  of;  191 
Kelly,  E.  of,  verfes  to,  573 
Kemp,  Sir  T.  Dedicati»n  to,  524 
Kiiave  of  Clubs,  by  Rowland^  ioj 
^^ — >  addrefs  to,   103' 
^——  of  Hearts,  by  fame,  lo^ 
fupplication  of  lOS 


Knaves,  twenty- five,  orders  of»- 16 
Knowledge  which  makefh  a  Wiii:  mini 

.22 J'  .      I    -     •  I 

Knyveton,  Sir  A.  Epigram  to,  4^7 

'    ■   ■■  V.-' 
Lawesj- Henry  and  NVitli-a*,  their  Pf»!raj|« 
,     60  - 

iLawes's  Elegy  on  his  Brother,  62 
'  LawesV 


IBTDEX. 


Ui 


Lawes'ff  W.  Eftgyf  on  John  'Fdmfciflsv 

64 
Lawyers  cenfurdd,  j4 
Lawyer's  Log.c,  by  Fraunce,.  »;>7 
LekpreuikV  Stattites-,  preface  10,1.223 
Leland's  Life  of  Cower,  t. 
•  Chancei',  4 

Lenton's    Young'  Gallant's     Whirligig, 

£3^ ;  fcecimens,  579— 4<C;  a  wretched 

poet,  SjS 
Lever's  Poem  of  Q^een  Elizabeth's  Tears, 

187 
Lichfield's  Madng3M,'J9    - 
Lidgate's  Hoife,  Shee^^and  Goofe,  150 
Line  of  Liberality^  155 
Lingering  Lovej  a  Ballad,  J44 
Lithgow's  Pilgrim's  Farewellj-  14)1 
— — ^—  Sonnets  by,- 147 

'•     ■       to  his  dnknOwA  Love,  1-47 
GufliiBg  Teits  of  Godly  Sor- 

Lear  King,  Stoi^  of,  gy$ 
Leaver's  Sermott  before  the  King,,  i^i 
Lewellin's,  M.  verfes,  57S 
Uoyd'Si  Trtafory  of  Healthy  4» 
London,  Mtmorandum  to,  18 
Long  Meg,of Weftntinfter,.  zfi 
Lorell's  Cock,  vagatjond^,  1 2 
Lupton's  Obiejtorara  Red«£tia,  162 

"**— England's-ConlBiahd^  i-6z 

. Thoufand  Notable  ThiffgSy  2^^ 

Lyar,  Epitajh  on  a,  264     ' 
Lydgate's  'Treatife  of  Galand^  J33 

M. 
Mackintofli's  Anglei-^  36^ 
Madnefs,  lij^ns  and  remedies  of  j  41 
Maitland,  Sir  R.  verfes  by,  41 S 
Malone,  Mn  113 
Malynes's  Anfwer  to  Bodine,  131 
Man  in  tile  IVfoone,  88^ 
Mankind  incraafed,  42  J' 
Maplei'sDiii  ol5Deftiny,  4i&         .     ^ 
Markham's  Pleafures  of  Princes,  35.5 
JAirlaifiy  C.  ftabbed  at  Dejitford,  z6S 
Marriage,  advertifement  touching,  50 
Martin's  Month's  Mind,  127 
Martin's  Ci/unter-cuff,  124 
Marfton,  J.  fong  by,  1 66 
Martyn's  New  Eprigcams,  &c.  8^ 
Mary,  the  Virgin/ detribed,  20 j 
Mafcall'Sbook  of  Fiflilng,.  353 
Matrimony,  Solemnization  in  Scotlaiid, 

271 
May,  a  defcription  of,  422 
May-game  of  MaMlnifm,  130 
MeditaiionSy.by.G.  Wither,  21-     • 

— — on  th^  Lord's  PrayWj  22 

on'  the  Teiit  Comniandments, 

30 
M.  lancholy  Krfghty  by  S-.  R.  ^49 
Melancholy  Vifion,  by  H.  Mill,  409 
Melbancke's  Brian,  Philotiniua,  438—47 
.  yerfes  by,  447 


Memorandum  to  Londiin,  by  Wltlier,  tt 

Merry  Jeft  of  Dan  Hew,.59:ji  6o<» 

Miller  of  Abingdon^  67 

— — —  of  Trumpington,  68' 

Mill's  H.  Ni'ghc!^  fea«chf.     F:ra  Pilrt^ 

328 
Second  Part,  335     , 

•     on  'theafutlioi,,329-^3;i,.  Jj5«-^  . 
— ^  Melancholy  Vifion,  4-9 
Montague,  iLady  M,  W.  aiifwerdd  by  Sir 

Wf  VoHg,.  1 23; 
Montr»fe,  Earl  of,  Dedkation  to,  1 48 
Moore,  &t  T,  contumacious' deicripdod 

of  wealth,  1 33 
Morley's,  T.  Madngals^6j2' 
MoiFS^  Roderick,  the  Complaint  of,  lyft 
'  MottlSy,  Editor  of  Joe  Miller,  zji 
Moufe  Trap,  by  H.  P.  sS-7 
M.  P.  or  Martin  Parker,  433,  548-«J 
Mr.  Geo.  Witliers  Ke*ived,  25 
M.  S.  Rawl.  poet,  609 
Munday's  Banquet  of  Dainty  ConceSt^i 

337;    ditty. by,  342;    rranflacion  of 

Amadts  de  Gaule  561 ,   dedica1?ioil>  to, 

562,  account  of  by  Snuthtey,  5S#;.  e«. 

trjfts  from  '  566— 71 
Mufic,  treaiife  by  Dr.  Cafe,  J41 ;  heada 

.  of  chapiersj  $46 
M.  W.  author  of  Man  in  the  Moone,.  81 

N. 
Nabbs,  T.  fong  by,  174 
Nafliis:  ridicule  of  Hai^rey's  difcotirfes,  44 
■  --Countercuffe  to  Martin,  Junr.  124 
— -.  Martin's  Month'»  mind,- 1-»7 
=-- -  return    of   PafijuHi   of  -England-, 


127 

'—  ghoft'  rons'dyby  TayIor,;4}4, 

Neade's  Double  Arraed  Manv  41 1 

New  Epigrams,  by  Marty n,.  85 

News  of  the  councci  holden'  at  Tiyde^t, 

294 
Newton's  Direflion  for  Miagiftrates,  4(4, 

418. 
— '^ — •:-  verfes  on  Hunnis,  647 
Nights  Scorch,  by  Mills-,  3.28 — 336 
Nil  Ultra,  by  G.  Wither,  2« 
Nixon's  Black  Year,  5.53  < 

Nobbes'^ComplBat  Trailer,  363—^365(1 
North's  Lord,  Foreft  of  Varieties,  Jotj; 

charafter  oifa  Gentleman,  j02 
North's  Difcoutfe  of  F'fli,  365 
Notary's  edition  of  Caxton's  Chroni(de8, 

"         '  O.  , 

Obieftorum  Redvclio,  by  Lupton,  itfjr 
Ode,  burlefque;  npon  Q^EIis.  1S6 
Ogilby,  J.  epigram  to,- ji  3 
Old  IMufical  Airs',  .59^ — 1-5  S-^JI  7— 4*7 

6^2  . ;    : 

Ovid,  tranflated  by  Peend,  344, 
Owen,  a  fweet  ep(gi'amn)'<t^>fl^  i6cf 
Owl's  i>lmanack,  12$- 

Palace 


662- 


INDEX. 


P. 


Palace  of  Honour,  420—4 

Palelhna}  a  lingular  wQikj  ^oi 

Falliard,  an  artful  beggar,  14 

Palmer,  epigram  upon,  J 1 1 

Pan  his  Pipe,  by  babie,  34 

Parker,  Mathew,  1 1  ■     , 

Parker's  Martin  Blind  Man's  bou^h,  431, 

43* 

■  -  Robin  Confciencf ,  548 

■  Harry  Wli.te  his  humour,  J49 
PamalS  Puerperium,  309 
Partridges   d.fcover  poifon   when  near, 

299 
Pafquil  and  Marfoiiiis,  129 
paf^tiiU's  return  to  England,  IZ9;  pro- 

teftanon.i^pon  London  Stone,  131 
Fafquil's  pafs  and  paiTeih  not,  by  Breton, 

2i»  . 
Pafquin  of  Rome,  288 
Patrlark  Co.  meaning  of,  14, 
Patrons,  mercenary,  5^ 
Paynell's  devout  prayers,  4)2 
Pecke's  tranfljtioii  of  Owen,  310-^13 
Pedlar's  French,  fpecimen  of,  $21 
Peele's  perfeft  reckoning,  605 — 8 ;  vei- 

fes  by,  609 
Peend's   Hermaphrodites  and   Salmacis, 

344^373!  extraasfrom,345— 7. 

■  John,  Loid  Mandozze,  523 — 32  ; 
concluded,  587 

Peerfon's  Grave;  thamber  mufick,  311 
Pembroke,  E.  of,  43^ 

■  Duirp  upon,  I^g 

-      ■       ■  E.  of,   dedication  to, 

278 
Pcnry,foregallant  of  t;lie  morice,  130 
Pefiilence  of  i625.and  t66^,  19 
petite  Palace  of  Petty  his  pleafure,  392  J 

the  twelve  ftories,  39  J 
Petfy's  Pa'ace  of  Plcalurc,  392 
Peiowe,  H.  fuppofed  author  of  the  Moufe 

trap,  SS7  .      ' 

Philotimus,  a  romantic  novel,  438 — 47  ; 

^  the  hfxo  defcrihcfl,  442 — 444 
Pierce  Pennileile,  44 
Pilgrim's  Farewrll,  by  Lithgow,  141 
Pilkjiigton's  fiift  fet  of  Madrigals,  1^8  ; 

'  fecond  fet  of  Madrigals,  160 
Piper  and  Pepper,  a  pun,  2^9 
Pitcheis,  emblem  of,  by  G.  Wither,  17, 

planetary  effedt  on  mankind,  47 

Plant  oi  Pleafure,  by.  Fleming,  316 

Playhoufes,  old'ones,  noticedi  540 

Plays  cenfiired,  2f  9'^540-r-69a 

Potfy,  by  I.  H.  349 

Poet,  a  chdTaQet  of,  331 

Poet's  Blind  Man's  bough,   by  M.  P. 

431— & 
Poets,  rewarded,  272—3 
Pollard's  Angler,  ^6^ 
Poor  Commons    defended    try   petition, 
-  asi'i  by  fuppli(^tion,  293 


Porter's  Madrigales and   Airi»'3t7 

Powell's  Welch  bayt,  183 

Praife  of  Mufick,  by  Dr.  Cafe,  {41^1^    < 

Prayer  lor  Edw.  Vl.  101 

Pownfl,  Mr.  a  maik  by,  612— .16 

Pr.de  in  drefs,  JJ 

I'rintjng,  origin  of,  10 

Problems  of  Ariftotlc,  44S 

Proclamation  by  K,  or  Spain,  I J91— £4 

Pioclamatiuns,  book  of,  ^54 

Prophecy  by  G.  Wither,  29 

Prygman  defined,  13 

Pfdlms  by  H.  and  W.  Lawes,  60 

Quarks,  F.  fong  by,  17  J 
Q^ioditaries  and  Quodlibets,  279 
Quire  bird,  his  chdrafler,  13 

R- 
Raleigh,  Sir  W.  verfes  attributed  to  him, 

142  j  derhcat  on  to,  J42 
Rates  of  theCuftom  Houfe,  397;  coa> 

eluded,  503 
Rawliqfa;!,  Dr.  MS.  of,  609 
Recantation  of  Pafquui  of  Rom«,  288 
Recorder  of  Iflndon   wittily   anfweredj 
,    269 

Regal  Biography,  hy  Hcarne,  6i 
Regiment  for  the  fea,  95 
Reliqu.ae  Wottonians,  2 1  j 
Reymund,  fuppofed  author  of  FoUy.  in 

Print,  323 
Richard  jft,  68 
Ring  faler,  13 

R.  Mr.  C.  P.  his  Paleftine,  20t 
Rjbin  Confcience,  547  *  '  '  , 

-f— or  confcionable  Robin , 


548 

Robinfon's  Solace  of  Sijii,  20S 

Rogers,  Dr.  1 1 

Romeus  and  Juliet,  by  A.  Broke,  ,113  ; 
afted  before  the  time  of  Shakfpeare, 
1  ij  J  their  ftoiy,  349 ;  its  popularity, 

444-  . 
Roper,  epigram  to,  by  Cockain,  4^2 
Row.aiid's  Knave  of  Clubs,  J03 
— ^—  Knave  of  Hearts,  lo^ 

Melancholy  Knight,  ^49 

— — —  Heaven's  gloiy,  byjiim,  jjj 
Roy,  W.  notices  of  by  Tyndalej  243 
Royden,  M.  epigraiTi  to,  2j9 
Rule  for  women  to  bring  up  daughters^ ' 

S. 

.Sadler,  Sir  Ralph,  dedication  to,  94, 
'.•a'uic's  Pan  his  Pipe,  32 
ftackv.ll.  Baron  of  Buukhurft,  dedicatio* 
to,  133 

Salkeld's  treatifc  of  Paradife,  140 

Salter's  Modern  Angler,  369 

Sargent's,  James,  ballad',  553 

Scoggan's  frit  ,  67 

Scotland,  Hiftory  of,  634. 

Scourge  of  Folly,  2^5 
,5.  E.veifesby,  5j 

Secietc 


INDEX. 


6% 


Secret?  of  Angling,  46^—501 
Sellmiin,  the  pickpocket,  1 10 
Seiitleger,  dedication  to,  344 
Sern:.ons, by  W.  Fulk,  i^Si,  g6,  159 
• preached    before    the,  Qlueen, 

-by  Thomas  Leauer,  ijj 


by 


Seven  fobs  of  a  forrowful  fuul,  by  Hun- 

nls,  90 
Shakfpeare,  illaftration^  of,  584—6 
Shepherd's  Logic,  by  A.  Fraunc.-,  276 
Ship  of  Safeguard,  by  G.  B.  618—634 
Shirley's  Angler's  Mufeum,  308 
Short  and  plain  Dialogue  on  Cards,  41 
Shrewlbury,  Z\it.  Countefs  of,  dedication 

to,ji6 
Sidney,  Sir  P.  imitated  by  I.  Davies,  ^54 
Sighs  for  the  Pitchers,  by  Wither,  35 
Silvefler  on  Angling,  }66 
Sleeper,  a  marvellous  ftory,  296 
Smith,  Sir  Th.  dedication  to,  158 
Smith,  on  Angling,  369 
Solace  of  Sion,  by'R.  Robinfon,  208 
Songs,  by  Dramatic  Writers,    163  . 

anonymous  authors,  167  —  9 — 170—1 
Sonnet  made  on  Mount  ^tna,  147 
Southey,  Robert,  563 
Spain's,  K .  of,  declaration,  ;io7 
Spaniard's  Monarchy,  Englifhed,  430 
Spare  your  good,  370 
Speed,  John,  epigram  upon,  258 
Spencer,  Earl,  ;jS,  633 

Epigram  on,  120 

Spenfer's   Sbepheid's  Calendar,   ufed  by 

Fraunce,  276— »7 
Spicej's  Elegy  on  Sir  A.  Chicheder,  237 
Stage  plays,  ought  to  be  condemned,  269, 

270 
Stanley,  T.  Epigram  to,  312 
Still,  Bifliop,  anecdote  of,  1 1 
St.  Jjmes  Fair,  regufated,  654 
Strafford,  E.  of,  verfes  by,  l8l 
Studley's  tranflation  from  Seneca,  372 — 7 
Suckling's  ballad,  imitated,  323 
Suffolk,  D.  of,  and  Qn.  Katherin's  amo- 
rous attachment,  Igi 
Summons  for  Sleepers,  by  I».  Wright,  53 
Supplication  of  the  Poor  Commons,  293 
Surrey,  old^Earl  of,  273 
Swarm  ofbees  with  hony  and  honycomb 

gathered  by  A.  Fleming,  315 
SwaiHara,  Robert,  68 
Sydney,  Sir  P.  excelled  as  a  poet,  273 
■I  i-T         'addrefs    to,    by  Fraunce, 


2  So 


T. 


Taverher's  expeiiments  on  Fifli,  3^4 
Taylor,  I.  defended  by  the  Iriih  Foot- 
man, 433  ;  differing  worfliips.  434 
Taylor's  Science  of  Anglng,  369 
Temperate  Man,  Engliflied,  574 
Thefeus  and  Ariadne,  by  T.  Underdowne, 

J34— 7 
Tjioufand  iTotabfe  Thujgs,  29^ 


Thrce  private  Meditations,  by  G.  W.  zt 
Thynne,  F.  on  Speght's  Chaucer,  2—10 
Titana  and  Thefe'ut,  4  ;6 
Toad,  preferved  from  poifon,  298 
Todd's,   Rev.    Henry,    illuftrations    of 

Gower  and  Chaucer,  2,  3,  10 
Tomkins,  J,  elegy  upon,  64 
Tom  Thumb,  67 
Topchff,  R.  dedication  ro,  337 
Towfe,  II 

Tounlhend,  A.  verfes  by,  6 1 
Treafury  of  Health,  by  H.  Lloyd,  40 
Trejtife  of  the  horfe,  flieep,  and  goofe, 

ISO 
Trokelowe,   Johannes    de,    Annates  by 

Hearne,  70 
Tub»  Pacifica,  by  G.  w;ther,  17 
Turks  Chronicles,  by  Alhton,  92 
Tyndale'j,  W.  Wicked  Mammon,  244 
Tyrwhit,  4 

V.   U. 
Vacabonds,  Fraternity  of,  12,  13  ■ 
Vagaboncs,  a  caveat  for  Common  Curie* 

tars,  vulgarly  called,  51; 
Vagabonds,  Various  cHaraaers  dtfciibed, 

5 1 8— 20 
Vaughan's  ,  W.    Golden    Grove,    26^  j 

account  of  the    author,    265^6  j  of 

Golden  Grove,  with  extracts,  267— 

273;  of  Golden  Fleece,  withextrafl*. 

from,  274—6 
Venables,  Col.  anecdotes  of,  361 
Vere,  Horatio,  Elegies  upon,  576 
Verzoza,  the  Spanilh  poet,  rewarded  by 

Q^Mary,  273 
Vngil's  Eclogue  by  France,  281 
Vulgar  tongue,  rhimes  illuftrative  of  the» 

290 
Unanel'd,  explained,  532 
Cnderdowne's    Thefeus    and    Ariadne» 

534;  extraifts  from,  534— ff 
Unhoufel'd,  meaning  of,  533 
V/Iiet's  trandation  of  the  Confeffion  of 

the  Swifferlands,  294 
W. 
Walfingham,  P.  dedication  to,  414 
Walton's  Compleat  Angler,  357 — 6t 
Wanley,  Nathaniel  and  Humphrey,  6S 
Wanley's  definition  of  Dan  Hew,  60I 
Warning  piece  to  London,  by  G.^  Witherj^ 

34 

Warton,  T.  12 

Warwick,  Earl  of,  addrefs  to,  j^S 
Wafliman,  a  cozehing  be^ar,  14 
iWaftnes,  George,  442 


'£  ' Watreman's  W.  Fardle  of  Facions,  424—7 


Wacfon,  Thomas,  lines  addreffed  by  hi4ii. 

to  Mr.  John  Cafi,  J  43 
Webb's  Difcourfe  of  Poetryi  Gift 

Webb,  William,  i6t)C 
Webfter,  John,  fong  by,  1 7J 
Welch  bay!  to  fpare  Provender,  iSj, 
Weftminiter  Hall  free  o£  \oSe&si  z^f 
258  • 

WeOTs 


S64 


ii$r©EK. 


wall's  Mtmomaiitm  «n  Joan  iCramweir; 
'Kitchen,  41.3 

Whsftone's,  G.  Enemy  to^Dnthriftynefs, 
601  *  I 

JVhicechucche,  '^^ivaiiiij:,  11 

Whitt,  Warty,  his  hiraiaur,  g^ 

,  Rev.  H.  1 14 

Wicked  Mammon,  by -Tiyii'lalc,  24a 

Williamson's  I.  Angler,  ^Sj  . 

— ^ Capt.  Angler,  370 

Wilfon's  Elegy  on  W.  Lawes,  6j 

Windrdr,  Thomas  j.ord,  anagram  and 
verfes  on,  ^73 

Wither,  G.  Lirt  of  Works,  contjiiued, 
17;  conclpdel,  178;  hi*  Tuba  Pa- 
cifica,  17;  fpraks  of  hiinfelf,  1 8  j 
wrote  with"  Tyhu»n  in  view,  ib ;  Le. 
gacy  for  his  chil|Jren>  3\ ;  this  portrait 
defcrihed,  26;  original  poem  to  C. 
Brooke,  237  ;  pieces  recorded  in  his 
own  catalogue,  3^8 ,  his  occaHonal 
verfps  eonmerate^,-  386 ;  encomiums 
jU>d  cenfure  upon  him  and  bis  work^, 
jf^t  ;  noting  , of  himfelf  and  family, 
38o>^$;   ofinions  ef  Butler,  Wood, 


Winft^ley,     Jacftb,    Pope,    let,    of 
Wither,  iS6n-4i 
Wither's  Red,vivus,,hy  T.P.  378 
Wit's  Bedlam,  t>y  J.  .04vies,  261 
Wutjs  Eilgrinfmge,  by  J.  Ddvi^s.-z+y 
Wood,  Anthony,  17,  79^  247,  566 
Word'^,'W,yi»kin  de,  treatife  of  the-hoffe, 

iSieep,  ^jil  goofe,  X  ;o  ^ 
World's  Folly,  a  fra^mehf,  J59 
Wotton,  :Sir  Henry,  ineiiKiir  of,  aoa  - 
.  (i^de.pcovoft.  of  Eton,  2iz;  igratifca- 
tion   on  .reviliting  -Wipcte^er,  zia  j 
verfes  by,  ai6,  217,  ?i8;  qhararfer 
'fif,    236 

Wright's  Difplay  of  Duty,  ^ 

Summons  for  Sleeperi ,  jj 


Wrisingiftcrstly  with  an  Onion,.299 
W,-  R.jfuppjfed  iwriter  of  Pafquin's  Jte- 
cantation,  290 

y. 

Yong^s,   Sir  W.  anlw«r  toLady  M.  W. 

M.  123 
Young  iGallant's  Whirligig ;  ,or,  Youth'! 
■  rakes,  ,53« 


Portrait  of  Sir  Aston  Cockavki,-  449. 
ThePorttaits  of  Skelton  and  Shibley  to  be  refervtd  for  Vol.  IV. 


'*,B■eIliI«^», -PtlnteN   ' 
■•It  Court,  Fim  Street,  Lonilsit. 


::  ,:^i;';n'i;s:ili!{il«illippi8