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Volume V, 


1 \xi 

Contents of tbe JFiftfj Oolume, 


Master Roger BODENHAM. Trip to Mexico, \^6i^-i^6$, k.V). (?) 59 
Rev. Richard Hakluyt. The Voyages of Will/am Hawkins 

senior, to Brazil, about \^'}p, KX). (1589.) il 

Sir John Ha wkins's First Voyage to 

t/te JVest Indies, I $62-1 $6t„ A.D. (?I589.) 17 

A Gentleman in the Voyage. Sir John Ha u^kins's Second Voyage 

to the West hidies ; iZth Oct., 1564— 20/// Sept., 1565. (? 1565.) 87 
The Third Voyage of Sir John Ha wkins : — 

1. Earliest tidings of the disaster in England, Dec. 1558 — Ja7i. 1 569 205 

2. A true Declaration of the troublesome Voyage of Mr. John 

Ha wkins to the parts of Gtiinea and the West hidies, in the 
years of our Lord I ^6y and 1^6% 213 

3. The Depositions in the English Admiralty Court, March 1569 226 

4. 7 he Narratives of Tliree Survivors of the 112 men landed 

7iear Tarn pica on Zth October, 1568 : — 

(a) The relation of David Ingram, of Barking, in, the 
coitnty of Essex, sailor 249 

(b) A Discourse written by one Miles Phillips, English- 
matt, one of the company put ashore itt the West Indies by 
Master John Hawkins in the year \^tZ 261 

(c) The Rare Tra^iels of Job Hon top, an Englishman, who 
was not heard of in three and twenty years' space. ( i f 9 ' .) 307 

5. Sir John Hawkins's pretended treachery, in the Summer of 

1571/ carried on ivith the knowledge and under the sanction 

of Queen Elizabeth and Lord Burleigh 331 

Sir Francis Drake revived; calling upon this dull or effemi- 
nate Age, to folh^u his noble steps for gold and silver : By this 
jnemorable Relation of the rare occurrettces {never yet declared 
to the world) in a Third Voyage made by him into the West 

Indies, in the years\\^2 and\\^}). (1593.) 487 

Barnabe Barnes. Parthenoph.l and Parthenophe. Son- 
nets, Madrigals, Elegies, and Odes. ( ? May 1593.) ... ... 335 

[?] Zepheria. (?i594.) 61 

Sir J. Davies. Orchestra, or, A Poem of Dancing. Judi- 
cially proving the true observation of Time and Measure, in the 
auilicntical a>id laudable use of Dancing. (? June I 594.) ... ig 

Nosce tcipsum ! This Oracle expounded in two Elegies 137 

Hymns of As rR.EA,Jn Acrostic Verse. (1599-) •••' ••• S^t 

B. Griffin, Gent. Fidessa, more chaste than kind. (1596.) ... 507 
John Savile. King Ja MES his entertainment at Theobalds. 

With his welcome to Londoti. (1603.) €.23 

GlLHKRT DUGUALE. The Time Triumphant, Declaring in brief 
the arrival of our Sovereign liege Lord, King James^ into 

England. (1604.) 639 

Sir Charles Sedley, ^Baronet. Songs. (Before 1700.) 14 

Benjamin Franklin. Poor Richard improved^ Being an Ahna- 

7iac. ^x. for the year of our Lord \~^'i., 577 


A dh'erse cause, hilt ... 4'i 

A fair curled head, and 438 

After Aurora's blush... 401 

Again, how can She 159 

Again, how can She 183 

Again, if by the body's 187 

Again, if Souls do i6z 

Again, if Souls, of Souls 163 

A ,!iallant Dance I 40 

A Glove of Gold 451 

Ah me! How many 478 

Ah me ! sweet beauty ... 374 

Ah, pierce-eye piercing 366 

Ah, sweet Content 1 379 

Ah, ten times worse 377 

A hundred thousand ... 15 

Ah, were my tears 426 

Ah, would Thou set 436 

Alas! that some that ... »6i 

Alike torment her, with 480 

All beauty's far 434 

All bodies are confined 157 

All bodies are, with 158 

All in Himself, as in ... 165 

" All moving things 183 

All things received 158 

All things without 144 

All this he tells 24 

Although they say 182 

And after wars, when 45 

And as from senses 178 

And as if beasts 190 

And as Minerva is 160 

And as the better spirit 187 

And as the man lo<ves ... 145 

And as the moisture 184 

And as the Sun above 170 

And as the root and 165 

And as the Wit doth .. 180 

And as this Wit should 179 

And as when th'hand ... 166 

And cease 482 

And doubtless such 19S 

And ct<en this selfsame 48 

And hence it is 22 

And hcnvwas CU^..\'I-.US 43 

And humbly honouring 53 

And if a man should ... 196 

And if her Powers 195 

And if herself She can... 190 

And if that wisdom still 199 

And if thou, like a child 201 

And in her heaven 455 

And is it by immutable 75 

And is not GOD's 167 

And let us know that ... 1G9 

And merry B.ICCl/US 44 

And ni^t alone the 46 

" And now, behold 34 

And now, thou winged 8s 

And saying, " Let her... 480 

And so did purpose all... 164 

And so the ancestor 1O6 

And swifter than the... 30 

And then the Soul 167 

And therefore, ncnu 43 

And these, those 448 

And these three 180 

And those great 46 

And though some 189 

Am! lhi}ui;li these, 179 

Ana ihou'li the Soul ... 10 j 


And though the Soul ... 371 

And though the Spirit... 150 

And though things 171 

And though this Sense 173 

And thou, my Soul 1 202 

" And tho7i, fiueet 34 

And thus continuing ... 359 

And thus, from divers ... 159 

A id view at once 165 

And when He took the 163 

.And when their 341 

And when thou thinkest 201 

A nd 7uhen yonr ivory ... 50 

And while the face of ... 145 

And why did GOD in... 168 

And yet, alas, when 143 

And yet good scents ... 174 

And yet she thought ... 54 

And yet the Lights 147 

And yet these Porters... 17S 

And yet these sparks ... 179 

And yet this First True 185 

And yet this Soul 164 

" And yet we see in her 162 

Anon, Fear (Sentinel ... 67 

Antinous answered ... 30 

Are they not senseless ... 154 

Are you so waspish 412 

Arraigned, poor captive 593 

As a good harper 194 

As a King's daughter ... 185 

As if most skill in that... 156 

As is the fable of that ... 144 

-As spiders touched 145 

As streams, which 173 

As then, the Soul a 159 

Ai the victorious twins 41 

Aswhen. AMPHION ... 28 

As when a Nymph 39 

As when the Indians ... 57 

{As inhere the sun is ... 140 

.At first. Disdain and ... 14 

At first, our Mother 184 

At first, she startles ! ... 145 

At length, by 460 

.At length, good heart ... 460 

At length, he doth ...... 454 

At length, he somewhat 454 

At length, methought ... 460 

Away, Teri'SICHOre !... 55 

Ay me 1 Embrace me !... 481 

PiACCHU.s ! Father of all 447 

Dear the .sea's sand in ... 573 

liear up this Hymn! ... 565 

locating mine arms on... 458 

iJeauty's Crown 575 

P.KAUTV, Virtue 567 

He blind, mine Eyes ! ... 384 

Because her temper is... 572 

Bef^ore bright I'lTAN ... 467 

Before the grooms 457 

Begs Love ! which 393 

Behold, a herd of jolly 456 

Behold, and learn in my 458 

Behold her in her 570 

Behold, how my proud 576 

Behold ! (if you can 571 

Behold me mildly from 568 

Behold, out walking in 454 

Behold these tears, my 473 

" Behold the icorlil 31 

Behold, within tliat 453 


Besides, another 177 

Besides as Homer's...... igt 

Besides ! This world ... i6g 

Besides those single 175 

Besides ! Were we 168 

Best jewel that the 566 

Be thou our law 571 

Blasts are mild, and seas 564 

Blessed Astr^a ! I, in 564 

Bless still the myrrh 355 

Blest is Arcadia's 445 

Blest is that Shepherd... 449 

Bodies are fed with ipi 

Both you, fresh 565 

Brave Princes of this ... 567 

Brave Spirit I Large 575 

Bright image of an 570 

Brought down from 569 

Burn on, sweet Fire 1 ... 389 

But after, by 178 

But after these, as men 39 

But, an, my plague 361 

But as GOD's 161 

But as Noah's pigeon ... 198 

But as, the Body 195 

But as the fair and 170 

But as the sharpest Eye 147 

But as this world's sun 170 

But, blest be that 199 

But for jnere dialers ... 40 

But here are colours ... 569 

But high perfection 191 

But how shall we this ... 169 

" But /unu, till then 196 

But if a frenzy do 193 

But if Afiiluo take 194 

But if She shall attend 86 

But if the body's death 186 

But if these eyes 52 

But if, upon the world's 186 

But if, with error and ... 83 

But in another world 53 

But in this life 183 

But it exceeds Man's ... 181 

But it on Her ! not She 157 

" But lastly. Time 191 

But many subtle wits ... 162 

But most of them 195 

But neither for their ... 568 

But, Nightingale! sith 566 

But 7iot alone, this 51 

But now I feel they iGji 

But now I have a Will 177 

But now these Epicures 192 

r>ut Pity, which 359 

But purge the humours 193 

" But see the E.IKTH 33 

But She doth doubt ib8 

But She that should 459 

But since our life 183 

Hut since She hath a ... 573 

But sith the Brain doth 176 

But still this Crew 197 

But such as are detruded 198 

l!ut then grew Reason... 142 

But they do want that... 155 

But they that know 192 

But things of weight ... 152 

But 1 hou, bright 149 

" I'.ut though Corruption 190 

But thniigh the 176 

But liiuui;h this 157 

But, Thou ! which 149 

But to the Soul 192 

But we (that measure ... 165 

But we, their wretched 142 

But when in heaven ... 186 

But when, in May 358 

But when She sits to ... 153 

But when the Cause 152 

** But wherefore do 36 

But, whereto shall we... 563 

But whoso makes a 182 

/Jut why do I the Soul 153 

Bttt "why persuade you 27 

But women will have ... 440 

But yet her Fancy 452 

By instruments, her .S72 

By Love, She rules 574 

By such degrees 14 

By them, the forms 153 

By this straight rule ... 574 

By touch ; the first pure 175 

^^ By "why relate I 38 

Care-charmer Sleep I ... 598 

Cast down thyself 1 202 

Cease, over-tired 383 

" Cease, Sorrow I Cease. 415 

Clip not, sweet Love ... 596 

Come, blessed goat 481 

Compare me to , 603 

Compare me to the 597 

Concordes true picture... 50 

Consume 1 consume 459 

Cool ! cool in waves 367 

Could any power of 154 

Could Eve's weak hand 165 

Covetous Eyesl What... 385 

l»;iisies, cowslips, and... 456 

DiiJicin^, bright Lady ! 27 

Dark Night 1 Black 387 

Pear Mistress! than my 427 

iJear Sorrow 1 Give me 429 

Deign, mighty Lordl ... 4S3 

Despairing how to slack 440 

Did Sense persuade 154 

Did you sometimes 593 

Die magic boughs I 482 

Do I unto a cruel tiger 620 

Doubtless, a/i Souls ... 187 

Doubtless in Man 154 

Doubtless the Body's ... 195 

Doubtless, this could ... 158 

Do you, then, think this 198 

K:ich day of thine 565 

Kach month hath praise 568 

Eagle-eyed Wisdom ! ... 574 

Karly, before the day ... 563 

Early, cheerful 565 

Earth, now adieu 1 569 

Earth now is green 564 

Earth I take this earth... 605 

Echo ! this favour, if I 446 

Echo I What shall I do 471 

Eclipsed .She is, and her 57a 

Either at fir.-.t uncapable 193 

Er.iZA's praises were too 452 

Empress of Flowers 1 ... 567 

Empress of Kingdoms... 575 

Envious air, all Nature's 399 

Envy, go weep 1 My ... 576 

Ere thou proceed in 573 

Eternal Virgin ! Goddess 564 

Europe ! the Earth's ... 567 

Even as her State 575 

Even as our great wise 152 

Even so, by tasting 14a 

Even so, Nlan's Soul ... 145 

Even so, the King 180 i 

Even so the Soul 184 

Even so, the Soul 193 

Even then, to them 141 

Ever well affected Will 571 

Every night, from even 566 

Eye of that Mind 570 

Eye of the garden 1 566 

Eye of the world 1 568 

Exacter, should it 74 

Examine not th' 573 

Exceeding glorious is ... 570 

Excellent jewels would 571 

Exiled ASTR^EA is 574 

Exquisite curiosity 1 572 

Extreme was his 569 

F'air Clvtie doth 374 

Fair is my love that 609 

Fair Pearls, which 464 

/utir Soul ! since to the 140 

FiDESSA fair! long 591 

Fiuessa's worth in time 621 

Fie I fie, fierce Tyrant 1 376 

Fie, Pleasure! fie! 608 

First, GOD, from 164 

First, In man's mind ... 182 

First, the two Eyes 172 

" First, you seejixed ... 32 

Flora doth greet thee 448 

Fly to her heart I 602 

Fond men ! if we believe 197 

For after Towns and ... 45 

For all things else 187 

For all things made 162 

For all those Nerves ... 175 

For as that easy law ... 166 

For as the Devil, father 198 

For as the Soul's 200 

Fo r Comeliness is a 51 

For even, at first 145 

For even the thought ... 190 

For, give her organs fit 194 

For glory, pleasure, and 369 

For here, like to the 57 

For her true form 148 

For he which reasons ... 189 

For how can that be ... 199 

For how may we 143 

" For if GOD make her 161 

For if that region 192 

For if we chance to fix 155 

For I have loved long ... 599 

For I will sing 450 

" For lo, the Sea thtt... 35 

For Lot'E, within his... 41 

For Nature, in man's ... 179 

For no crazed brain 149 

For not the Christian ... 199 

For of her Barons 57 

For pity, he cried 460 

For Rhetoric clothing... 46 

For She, all natures 157 

For should the voice ... 173 

For since the world for 199 

Forsooth, quoth she 47 

" For that brave SUN 33 

For that same 111 141 

For their assistance to... 479 

For then, their minds... 142 

Forth from mine eyes ... 393 

For this, few knoiv 145 

For this ! the better 186 

For this, the wisest 143 

" For those blue veins 36 

For though our eyes ... 152 

For though the body ... 195 

For though these light 182 

For though the Soul 200 


For well she knows 185 

For tvhat did he, who.., 42 

For what is Man 168 

For what is this .. 167 

" For what ! " they say 192 

For, when Death's 187 

For when GOD's hand 141 

" For when," say they 16 c 

For whea She sorts 150 

For when we judge 189 

"For when you 34 

For who did ever yet ... 184 

For why should we 144 

For your siveet beauty 49 

From's bed rosy ... 388 

From hence, that 189 

From their gross 158 

From the kind heat 176 

From thence this Power 178 

From the revenue of ... 85 

From thine heart's 352 

From this desire, that... i8g 

Give me my Heart ! 36C 

Go, Bastard Orphan ! ... 338 

Goddess 0/ wotnen ! 26 

GOD doubtless makes... 164 

GOD, first, made 169 

GOD never gave a 183 

GOD, only-Wise ! 149 

Graces would smile 450 

Great is the joy that no 601 

Grief-urging Guest ! ... 595 

Had I been banished ... 397 

Happy ! depart with ... 432 

Hark 1 all you lovely ... 462 

" Hark how the birds... 37 

Hark, Nymphs forlorn 1 462 

Hears not, my Phillis ! 15 

Heaven waxeth old 191 

He bare about him a ... 460 

Hecate! make signs ... 480 

Hecate! reveal if She 480 

Hecate tell, which 479 

He cheered the Muses 444 

Hearst extracted 49 

He keeps it doubtless ... 196 

He looks on Adam 165 

Hence, goat I and bring 480 

" Hence is her prattling 34 

Hence is it, t/ntf these... 42 

Hence it is that aa 

Hence, lastly, springs ... 189 

Hence sprang the /able 44 

Hence, spiings that 188 

Her brighter dazzling ... 5)S 

Her cheeks exceed the 406 

Here are they guides „ 172 

Here, Even ! there 170 

Here, Sense's 176 

Here, She attracts ! 171 

Her hardened heart . 4S1 

Her harmonies are „ 153 

Her I did promise . 4146 

Her love to me. She 342 

Her nimble body, yet ... 159 

Her only end, in never ijSj 

Her Quick'ning Power 171 

Her winged thoughts ... 54 

He said, " .Sweet 453 

He that will Ca;s.irbe... 6011 

He that would fain 607 

He, when continual 340 

Him when I caught 342 

His civil acts to bind ... 166 

Hither, chaste PhoiUe's 84 

Hold! 407 

HoJMEK doth tell 24 

Homer, to whom 23 

How can I live in 384 

How can that 592 

How can we hope 143 

" How can we say 161 

' ' How doth Confusion's 3 1 

How have I forfeited ... 73 

How justly then is 28 

How made I, then 70 

How many golden 80 

How often hath my pen 75 

How often have mine ... 71 

How oft have I, the ... 466 

How senseless then 182 

How shall I deck my ... 73 

How then succeedeth ... 349 

How wert thou pleased 70 

I burn, yet am I cold!... 356 

I dare not speak of that 405 

If all the Loves were ... 378 

If any think a virgin ... 462 

If by His word. He had 168 

If by the Body ! how ... 163 

If CuriD keep his quiver 379 

If Death do quench us 199 

If great Apollo offered... 618 

If him thou take 439 

If, lastly, Souls did 163 

If, lastly, this quick 159 

If neither Love, nor Pity 428 

If ought can teach us ... 146 

" // Sense hnth not yet 31 

If She doth then the ... 156 

If She, the Body's 156 

If She were but the 156 

If She were but the 156 

If th'Elements (which... 156 

If then, all souls, both... 18S 

If then a man, on light 167 

If then, by death, the ... 187 

" If then Fire, Air 35 

If then the Soul 162 

If then this Virtue 198 

If the report be good ... 177 

// they whom sacred ... 51 

If th'objects be far off... 172 

If to the City, I repair 442 

If we had nought but ... 155 

If we had nought but ... 155 

If we these rules unto ... 189 

I have not spent the 608 

I know my Body's of so 146 

I know my Life's a 146 

I knoiv my Soul hath ... 146 

Illuminating Lamps ! ... 69 

Imperious J(ivi:, with ... 350 

I must write with tears 472 

In a shady grove of 433 

In centre of these Stars 40 ^ 

In judgement of her 148 

Injurious Fates! to rob 611 

1 note this day 451 

In quiet silence of the.., 418 

In sweetest ptide of 440 

" In the eliief nUi^Ie 37 

In this third Li.e 201 

I offer II fi some sf'aiklcs 140 

I see, I hear, I feel fii4 

Is it because the Mind 144 

Is it, then, just with us 167 

I slept, when 403 

Is Trust betrayed ? 619 

It chanced, after 341 

It is some comfort to ... 617 

It is the slowest, yet ... 173 

It was not long ago 76 

It was of love, inigentlc 602 

I was a King of sweet... 617 

I wish no rich refined ... 367 

Jove for Europa's love 377 

Kill not her Quick'ning 201 

Lame Consonants 368 

Lastly, GOD, being 163 

Lastly. Nine things ... 172 

Lastly, the brute 169 

Lastly, the Feeling 174 

Lastly, the Soul were ... 168 

" Lastly, where keep ... 35 

Lava, soon sounding ... 341 

" Learn then to dance I 38 

Let every man drink ... 445 

Let }ne the mover be ... 26 

Let not Disdain, thy ... 78 

L ike heaven in all; 139 

Like this, he framed ... 28 

Like to the Mountains 371 

Long doth she stay 184 

Long-wished for Death 1 386 

Long to the rocks, have 436 

Look in thy .Soul I 201 

Lo, this is Dancing's ... 47 

Love heard his prayer 53 

I.Ol'B in the twinkling 49 

Love is a name too 383 

Lovely Maya I 456 

Love must free hearted 168 

Love still has something 14 

Love taught the 48 

Lulled in a heavenly ... 65 

Ma.'JY, my Samt chaste 447 

Methought, Calliope... 369 

Might not this be for ... 345 

Mine eye bewrays the... 613 

Mine Eyes and .Sleep be 435 

Mistress! Behold 339 

More fair, but yet 68 

Most true that I must... 622 

Much like a subtle 175 

"Murder! O murder!" 615 

Musicians think our 148 

Must then, your 15 

Must Virtue be 198 

My cruel fortunes 615 

My fate ! O not my ...... 68 

My lady's hair is 6io 

My Love, alas, is sick! 402 

My Mistres.s' .4rms, are 391 

My Mistress' beauty ... 382 

My pain paints out my 600 

My spotless love, that... 595 

My sweet 388 

My verses do not please 441 

My woes, all comforts... 459 

Nature, I find, doth ... 81 

Nature's pride 39S 

Ne'er from a lofty pitch 79 

Ne'er were the silvery... 72 

Neither Minekva, nor 146 

^' Next her, the pure ... 33 

Ne.\t, in the nostrils ... 174 

Next, when my sun 358 

Ne.xt, when the 357 

No Body can, at once 158 

No choice of change can 613 

No, doubtless ! for the... 144 

No. I dare not ! 618 

None are so gross 162 

None that acknowledge 199 

No ! no, Zkpiifkia ! 74 

Nor as a vessel, water... 170 

Nor can herself 151 

Nor can her wide 158 

Nor could the world's ... 187 

Nor could «e by our ... 159 

Nor did He first a 160 

Nor hath He given 181 

Nor He, in this, doth ... 161 

Nor in the secret 160 

Nor is it strange that ... 167 

Nor may a man, of 159 

" Not Adam's Body ... 161 

Not those old students... 39 

Now, GOD, the Truth ! 185 

Now in my Zodiac's 362 

Now let us hear, how ... 173 

Nymphs begin 461 

Nymphs shall resort ! ... 451 

Nymphs, which in 372 

O Beauty ! Siren 1 kept 620 

O could I, sweet 55 

O could we see I how ... 165 

O dart and thunder ! ... 365 

O dear remembrance ... 425 

O dear vexation of my 430 

O fair sweet glove ! 449 

' ' Of a II their ways 36 

Of Him, She thinks 186 

O Fiery Rage 1 when ... 389 

Oft have mine Eyes 594 

Of this, we find some ... 166 

Of which swift little 183 

O how long 1 how long 435 

O, how oft ! how oft did 466 

O if my heavenly sighs 597 

O ignorant poor Man I 201 

O Kingly Jealousy ! 386 

O let me sigh, weep 621 

O let my heart, my body 6og 

O LIGHT! (which 148 

O lovely tender paps ! ... 465 

O LOl'El my Kingl ... 52 

O Love's soft hilk I 465 

O many, many years ... 140 

Once in an arbour was 347 

One night, I did attend 459 

One thinks the Soul 148 

O never can I see that... 420 

One while, they seem ... 14 

On her breast 461 

On her fair hand 449 

Only Antinous, when 26 

Only one night's 25 

'■'■ Only the Earth 36 

On the plains 461 

O Powers Celestial 1 345 

Or as the man, whom ... 152 

Or GOD (which to 183 

Or if " this All 28 

Or that one penal law... 165 

O, she must love my ... 600 

O sweet, pitiless eye ... 478 

O that i could make her 476 

O that I had Homer's... 55 

O that I had no heart I 378 

O that I might that 56 

O that my ceaseless 466 

O that, some time, thou 409 

O then. Desire ! 67 

Our b dies, every 191 

Our Eyes have lids 173 

Our Wit is given 180 

O what a lively life ! ... 181 

O what is Man! 181 

O why loved I ? For ... 363 

O why should Envy ... 395 

Pallas, that hour 25 

Pari HENoPiiE mine ... 441 

Paktiiknoime ! See ... 448 

Pari HK.NopiiE ! thy ... 441 

Pass all ! Ah, no 1 362 

PE.NLi.orii the Queen ... 53 

" Perhaps, for want 191 

" Perhaps her cause 190 

" Perhaps something ... igo 

Phillis is my only joy 1 16 

Phillis ! Men say that 16 

Phcebijs, rich father ... 404 

Pleading for pity to my 396 

Poor worm, poor silly ... 604 

Pride of our English ... 485 

Pronounce who best 451 

Proud in thy love 71 

Radiant virtues I if your 570 

Kaise but your looks ... 567 

Read this fair book 571 

Reason hath both tluir 29 

Reason (if She 575 

Rebound upon thyself... 570 

Receive, sweet Lord ! ... 484 

Recount these numbers 573 

Rectified so, they, in ... 573 

Red in her right cheek 568 

Renowned art thou 568 

Renowned Astr^ea 565 

Report my seas of salt 459 

Reserve, sweet Spring I 164 

Resolve me, Muse ! how 572 

Respect my pen, as free 576 

Reveal, sweet Muse 474, 475 

Reveal, sweet Muse ... 475 

Reveal, sweet Muse ... 476 

Reward doth sit in her 574 

Rich sunbeam of th' 569 

Right dear art thou ! ... 565 

Right glad am I, that... 564 

Right otherwise, a 572 

Right Princely virtue ... 574 

Right so, the Soul 153 

Rocks, pillars, and 575 

Rose of that Garland !... 486 

Rose, of the Queen of... 566 

Roses and lilies did 567 

Royal -ASTR.IIA makes... 566 

Royal Free Will and ... 571 

Rude counterfeit ! 569 

Rudeness itself 563 

Scarce twice seven times 357 

See hmu Man's Soul ... 196 

" See lunv those Jlo^vers 37 

See ! whence She comes 481 

Sense, outsides knows I 155 thinks the 154 

She is a .Spirit ; yet not 157 

She is a Substance 150 

She is a Vine, which ... 150 

She lodgeth heat 190 

Shepherds ! I fill sweet 444 

.She's sent as soon to ... 159 

She, within lists 146 

Shortly, what is it ? 142 

Since Body and -Soul ... 160 

."^iuce from the flowered 83 

.Since from the full feed 82 

Since Nature fails us ... 147 

.Smce then, her heavenly 105 

Since, then, the Soul ... 157 

Since nuhen ; nil 42 

Since when, they still... 27 

Sin- ! sing 443 

Sing then 24 

Sir ! Whatsoever You ... 22 

.Sleep PiKKiius still 398 

Sleep Pnfiiiii'S still with 48a 

Si) he my labours 355 

.So be .She brought ! 479 

So ,/i({ AfrSyl-.HS! so ... 43 

So did I'ahthknoiuk 345 

bu do the winds and ... 146 

So doth the piercinc; ... 170 

Soft, lovely, rose-like ... 376 

So if one man well on ... 195 

So in our little world ... 171 

Sole Heir 0/ yirtue 27 

So many months 15 

So, many stairs we 178 

Some place it in the 148 

Some think one General 148 

" Sometimes his proud 35 

Some, woodbines bear ! 450 

So might the heir 143 

So jMiisic, to hertnim ... 47 

Sore sick of late, Nature 607 

So she seemed, in her ... 406 

So soon as peeping 614 

So subtle and curious ... 157 

So that if Man would be 168 

So that themselves 142 

So that the widow Soul 160 

So this continual 356 

So, though GOD 167 

So though still She 473 

So, though the 196 

So though the clouds ... 193 

.So though this cunning 152 

So to a fish, liHNUS ... 44 

So warble out your 368 

So, when the Body 195 

So when the root and ... •166 

So when the Soul 190 

So, when the Soul finds 185 

So when the Soul is born 197 

So when we GOD and 189 

So while the virgin Soul i86 
Speak, Echo) tell 442,443 

Stay lon^, street Spirit ! 1 40 

Still resting whole 170 

Striving is past ! Ah ... 603 

Such strange effects 363 

Sweet lieauiy's rose ! ... 365 

Sweet Eglantine 464 

-Sweet is the golden 463 

Sweet Lady I Might my 485 

.Sweet stroke ! (sn might 599 

.Sweet thraldom, by 410 

.Swift Atalanta (when 423 

Take heed of 202 

Tell me of love. Sweet 612 

That night, the Queen... 25 

That Power (which 147 

That there ten thousand 197 

The barren Hebene 455 

The Body's life, with ... 174 

The bullocks li ap ! the 444 

The Chariot, with the ... 387 

The comely Order 30 

The Courtly love 24 

The Dial I love, which 373 

The faire>t deers, which 445 

The first Life in the 200 

'J'he Furies, they shall... 482 

The (jod of Love 15 

The leafless branches ... 380 

The Ledger Book lies... 176 

The Lighf- wi /leaven \ ^^ 

Th^ like just order 45 

The more .She lives iq2 

Then as a bee, which ... 184 

Then as a cuiining 19; 

Then count it not 353 

'I he It did he rnrify 31 

Then Dotage is no 194 

'I'hen doth She see 197 

Then duth lh'a>piring... 200 

Then drjth the Soul 194 

Then dulh the Wit lyj 

Then dwells She not ... 170 

Then, first 0/ all 38 

Then, first, with locks... 479 

Then (from her Venus 360 

Then her self-being 153 

Then him controlling ... 348 

Then if her heavenly ... 162 

Then 13 the Soul a 155 

Then is the Soul from .. 164 

Then let us praise that 169 

Then, like Gods angel 152 

Then Mars subdued ... 463 

Then neither, from 160 

Then She the Senses ... 153 

Then She, which hath... 188 

Then these defects 194 

Then this desire of 188 

Then to flatter awhile... 472 

Then to Parthe.ndi'he 343 

" Then what do those ... 196 

Then, what vast body... 158 

Then why should 52 

The prison I am in is ... 611 

The proudest Planet ... 383 

The Queen, whose 47 

The Quickening Power 180 

Therefore no heretics ... 182 

Therefore, no Sense 153 

Therefore the angels ... 163 

Therefore the fables 180 

Therefore, this sin 166 

There, had my Zeuxis 347 

'I'here in a mantle of 458 

There, is She crowned... 186 

There playfellows 619 

There, seated in that ... 453 

'I'here, with a garland... 457 

The richest jewel in ... 50 

The Rose for anger at .. 406 

The roses and lilies of... 441 

These actions, in her ... 151 

These are the outward 175 

These are the Windows 172 

These Arts 0/ Speech ... 46 

These bitter gusts 392 

I'hese children (if they iy6 

These Conduit Pipes ... 174 

These Eyes (thy 351 

These imperfections 194 

These light vain 188 

These, mine heart 353 

These Mirrors take 172 

These Pa.ssions have ... 176 

These powers the 177 

These questions make... 192 

J'hese spirits of Senie ... 177 

('These thoughts are 163 

These tunes of Reason 153 

These various foi ins 0/ 41 

These Wickets of the ... 173 

The SI epherds poopen 457 

'I'he silly bird that 6114 

The Soul, a Substance 150 

The .Soul h?.t'n, here 197 

'The Soul, in all, hath ... 194 

The sovereign Castle ... 25 

'The Sun in Pisces 394 

The .Sun, my Lady's ... 395 

'The wits that dived 143 

I he Wit (the pupil 178 

'The workman on his ... 152 

'They are becalmed 14 

They are her farthe-t ... 172 

'I'hey that pity lovers ... 474 

'They would cry out 196 

'I'll ii'' Eyes, mine 37.J 

'Hunk of her worth : joi 

This busy power is 176 

'I'h'i careful head 396 

This day, sweet Mistress 411 

This done, with jolly ... 457 

This doth She, when ... 158 

This glove, I kiss 1 450 

This is the Body's 174 

This is the net, wherein 41 

This is the Soul ! 180 

This is True Love 49 

This Lamp, through ... 149 

This makes the Idiot ... 193 

This makes the pulses... 177 

This Mistress, lately ... 146 

This Power, in parts ... 171 

This Power is Sense ... 171 

This power spreads 155 

This power to Martha 171 

This rich Assyrian drug 199 

This said, the Queen ... 29 

This Sense is also 174 

This Substance, and ... 169 

This true Pkometheus 160 

This was the Picture ... 54 

This, we call Birth ! 200 

This, would they think 197 

Those golden darts fly... 445 

Those hairs of angels' ... 3S1 

'I'hose outward Organs 175 

Thou bright beam 394 

Thou coop'st him in 341 

Though, alas, too late... 16 

Though be thou limned 66 

Though I be rude, as ... 449 

Though like an e.\ile ... 72 

Thou leav'st Thy Print iBi 

Thou, I'ke the sun 149 

Thou scaled my fort 370 

'I'hou ! that hast 149 

Through empty clouds 481 

'I'hus, as She was 404 

Thus by the organs 174 

'J'/tHS di^th it equal age 29 

TIius LOI'E persuades 38 

Thus Lorn taught 42 

Thus see we, how the ... 173 

Thus these good men ... 162 

Thus these great 14S 

Thus the Soul tunes 177 

I bus they said 462 

'J'/iiis thi-y ivlw first did 44 

'/ /tics, ivhen, at first ... 39 

Thy beauty is the Sun 373 

I'hy beauty past, with 434 

Thy coral-coloured lips 76 

Thy love's conceits are 401 

'Tis cruel to prolong ... 14 

'Tis now acquitted ! 482 

To Love, stood 407 

To judge herself 149 

'I'ongue, never cease to 606 

'Jo none but to 375 

To see the frisking 457 

To see the Rounds 458 

/'o that clear 139 

To tJiat g reat Spirit !... 1 39 

To tlie dii'inest and i g 

To these high powers ... 180 

To tvhotJi shall I 21 

To you, whose 22 

" Under tluit spangled 32 

Unhappy sentence ! 594 

Unto the Muses 77 

Upon a holy Sainles ... 446 

Vain gallants ! whose ... 397 

Venits aloud, for her ... 438 

Vii,Ni;s, and young 592 

Venl'S directed me to... 452 

" VEjXUS (the motlier... 32 

Vext with th' assaults ... 346 

Violets in her veins I ... 456 

Virgins, whom Venus... 462 

Vouchsafe, thrice 484 

Vulcan, in Lemnoslsle 463 

Was it decreed by 419 

Was it then fit, that 164 

Was never eye did see... 610 

Water in conduit pipes 183 

Weep now no more 606 

Well may my soul 605 

" Well, well," say these 198 

Were \, of all these 16 

Were She a Body 157 

We seek to know the ... 144 

We should not find her 187 

We study Speech 144 

We that acquaint 144 

" What ! are not Souls 192 

What be those hairs 390 

What can these wrinkles 381 

What can we know? 143 

What eye doth see tJie... 29 

What, if by often 51 

" What if to you tliese 32 

What is it ? but the 142 

What is it, then, that ... 154 

What is this 142 

" What makes tlie Vine 37 

What mean ilie 48 

What power was that ... 154 

What shall I name 40 

What ! Shall I ne'er 80 

What tied him ? Hath 444 

What, when they do ... 473 

When all her works 151 

When as the Golden ... 69 

When clear hath been... 79 

When, from the tower ... 66 

When he had 461 

When he hath passed ... 200 

When her assent 178 

When I did think to 452 

When I go forth to feed 442 

When in th'Kffects 151 

When I pass pensive ... 442 

iV'hen I remember that 424 

When I the hooks of ... 616 

When 1 waked out of ... 406 

When I walk forth into 441 

When I was young 372 

When last mine eyes ... 84 

n hen Lori; had 30 

When lovely wrath 354 

When Maks returned... 463 

When men seem crows 154 

When my sun 361 

When never-speaking ... 612 

When none of these 346 

VV hen of the dew 150 

When Pakthenophe... 407 

N\ hen Reason's lamp ... 143 

When She defines 151 

When She from sundiy 150 

When shepherds would 442 

Wlicn She rates things 178 

When .She, without a ... 151 

When silent sleep had... 598 

When thine heart 360 

When this celestial 403 

When was there ever ... 188 

When we, in kind 78 

When without hands ... 151 

When, the 352 

W lurijorc was 43 

Where lives the 23 

Where, or to whom 348 

Where Phantasy 175 

Which, also, GOD 169 

Which Himself makes... 161 

Whiles these two 405 

Whiles, with strong 340 

Whilst some, the Irojan 375 

Who can in Memory ... 156 

" Wiio doth not see 33 

Whoever sees these 188 

Who sees an army all... 52 

Who would at first 163 

Why am I thus in mind 364 

Why did my parents ... 141 

Why did rich Nature ... 382 

Why didst thou, then ... 344 

Why did the milk 408 

Why do I draw my 371 

Why do I draw this ^4 

Why doth earth bring ... 456 

Why doth heaven bear 455 

Why doth not Beauty... 156 

Why should I weep 477 

Will is as free as any ... 179 

Will is the Princel 179 

Will puts in practice ... 179 

Winged with sad woes... 596 

Wilt thou know 392 

With frisking gambols... 457 

With humble suit 416 

With that, he sighed ... 453 

With that, I touched ... 461 

With these, sometime ... i85 

Within thine eyes, mine 390 

With this Desire, She ... i8a 

With this, the modest ... 26 

Wit is the Mind's Chief 179 

Wit seeking Truth 185 

Work! work apace you 616 

Would GOD (when 380 

Write! write! help! 350 

Yea, but most Ladies ... 473 

Yea, but uncertain 351 

Yea, that accursed 349 

JV modern Laureates 6i 

Yet, always, all may ... 176 

Yet AsTRoi'HEL (might 55 

Yet can she love a 185 

Yet give me leave 344 

Yet hath the Soul 178 

Yet if Affliction once her 145 

Yet in the Body's 131 

Yet is not GOD, the ... 164 

i'et is t/iere one 40 

Yet Nature, so her 184 

Yet none shall equal me 81 

^'et not, alone, the first 167 

Yet of the forms. She ... 157 

Yet, once again 48 

Yet, out he comes! 200 

Yet say these men 195 

Yet shall these infants 197 

Yet their best object ... 172 

Yet these and ti eir 166 

Yet these three Powers 181 

Yet this, the curi.ius ... 168 

Yet though these men ... 182 

Y t, luider heaven '84 

" Yet violence perhaps 191 

Yet were these natural 177 

Yet your Jair soul 50 

You hapless wind."; ! 437 

You, Lady Muse . 54 

You loathed fields and... 458 

Yuuih, full of error! 414 

Youth's wantor> Spring 364 

Vol. V. 

Rev. Richard Hakluyt. 

The Voyages of William Hawkins, 
senior^ to B?^azily about 1530, a.d. 

[Voyages, 1589.1 

A Vo3'a;;e to Brazil made by the Worshipful Master William 
Hawkins, of Plymouth (father to Sir John Hawkins 
Knight, now living), in the year 1530. 

12 First English voyages to Brazil. [^^"- ^''^^'^ ""''JX 

Ld Master William Hawkins, of Plymouth 
(a man for his wisdom, valour, experience, 
and skill in sea causes, much esteemed 
and beloved of King Henry VHI. ; and 
being one of the principal sea captains in 
the West parts of England in his time), not 
contented with the short voyages commonly 
then made only to the known coasts of 
Europe ; armed out a tali and goodly ship of his own, of the 
burden of 250 tons, called the Pole [i.e., Paul] of Plymouth : 
wherewith he made three long and famous voyages unto the 
coast of Brazil; a thing, in those days, very rare, especially 
to our nation. 

In the course of which voyages, he touched at the river of 
Sestos upon the coast of Guinea ; where he trafficed with the 
Negroes, and took of them oliphants' [elephants'] teeth and 
other commodities which that place yieldeth : and so arriving 
on the coast of Brazil, he used there such discretion, and be- 
haved himself so wisely with those savage people, that he grew 
into great familiarity and friendship with them. Insomuch 
that, in his second voyage, one of the savage kings of the 
country of Brazil wascontented to take ship with him, and to be 
transported hither into England : whereunto Master Hawkins 
agreed ; leaving behind in the country, as a pledge for his 
safety and return again, one Martin Cockeram, of Plymouth. 
This Brazilian king being arrived, was brought up to 
London, and presented to King Henry VIII., lying as then 
at Whitehall. At the sight of whom, the King and all the 
nobility did not a little marvel : and not without cause. For 
in his cheeks were holes made according to their savage 
manner ; and therein small bones were planted, standing an 
inch out from the said holes : which, in his own country, was 
reputed for a great bravery [ornament]. He had also another 
hole in his nether lip, wherein was set a precious stone, about 
the bigness of a pea. All his apparel, behaviour, and gesture 
were very strange to the beholders. 

Having remained here the space almost of a whole year, 
and the king aith his sight fully satisfied ; Master Hawkins, 
according to his promise and appointment, purposed to con- 

Rev. Richard Hakluyt J Jj,,^j3E FROM EnGLAXD TO BrAZIL. I 3 

vey him again into his country : but it fell out in the way 
that by the change of air and alteration of diet, the said 
savage king died at sea ; which it was feared would turn to 
the loss of the life of Martin Cockeram, his pledge. Never- 
theless, the savages being fully persuaded of the honest deal- 
ing of our men with their prince, restored again the said 
pledge without any harm to him, or any man of his company: 
which pledge of theirs, they brought heme again into 
England, with their ship freighted, and furnished with the 
commodities of the country. 

Which Martin Cockeram (by the witness of Sir John 
Hawkins) being an Officer in the town of Plymouth, was 
living within these few years [i.e., 0/1589]. 

I have been informed by Master Anthony Garrard, an 
ancient and worshipful Merchant of London, that this voyage 
to Brazil was frequented by Robert Reniger, Thomas 
BoREY, and divers other wealthy Merchants of Southampton^ 
about fifty years ago, to wit, in the year 1540. 


Sir Charles Sedley, Baronet. 



[Poetical U'orJcs. 1707.] 

OvE still has something of the sea! 
From whence his Mother rose ; 
No time, his slaves from Doubt can free, 
Nor give their Thoughts repose. 

They are becalmed, in clearest days ; 

And in rough weather tost : 
They wither under cold delays, 

Or are in tempests lost. 

One while, they seem to touch the port : 
Then straight into the Main ! 

Some angry wind, in cruel sport, 
The vessel drives again. 

At first, Disdain and Pride they fear ; 

Which if they chance to 'scape, 
Rivals and Falsehood soon appear 

In a more dreadful shape. 

By such degrees, to Joy they come, 

And are so long withstood ; 
So slowly they receive the sum, 

It hardly does them good ! 

*Tis cruel to prolong a Pain ! 

And to defer a Joy 
(Believe me, gentle Celemene !) 

Offends the winged Boy ! 

SIrC Sedley.Bt.-| SONGS. 15 

A hundred thousand oaths, your fears, 

Perhaps, would not remove ! 
And if I gazed a thousand years, 

I could no deeper love ! 


Ears not, my Phillis ! how the birds 
Their feathered mates salute ! 
They tell their Passion in their words; 
Must I alone be mute ? 
Phillis, without frown or smile, 
Sat and knotted all the while 1 

The God of Love, in thy bright eyes, 

Does like a tyrant reign ! 
But in thy heart, a child he lies, 
Without his dart, or flame ! 
Phillis, without frown or smile, 
Sat and knotted all the while I 

So many months, in silence past, 

(And yet in raging love) 
Might well deserve One Word, at last 
My Passion should approve ! 
Phillis, without frown or smile, 
Sat and knotted all the while I 

Must then, your faithful Swain expire ! 

And not one look obtain ! 
Which he, to sooth his fond Desire, 
Might pleasingly explain ! 
Phillis, without frown or smile 
Sat and knotted all the wJiilc ! 

1 6 Songs. 


HiLLis ! Men say that all my vows 
Are to thy fortune, paid ! 
Alas, my heart, he little knows ; 
Who thinks my love a Trade ! 

Were I, of all these woods the Lord ! 

One berry, from thy hand, 
More real pleasure would afford 1 

Than all my large command. 

"Sir C. Sedley, Rt. 
Btfore 1700. 


^HiLLis is my only joy! 

Faithless as the winds or seas ; 
Sometimes coming, sometimes coy. 
Yet She never fails to please 1 
If with a frown, 
I am cast down : 
Phillis smiling, 
And beguiling, 
Makes me happier than before I 

Though, alas, too late I find, 
Nothing can her Fancy fix ! 
Yet the moment, She is kind ; 
I forgive her all her tricks ! 
Which, though I see, 
I can't get free ! 
She deceiving, 
I believing ; 
What need lovers wish for more ? 


Rev. Richard Hakluyt. 

Siryo H N Ha ivKi nss First Voyage to the 
West Indies^ Oct, \ ^bi-Sept, 1563, a.d. 

[The foul blot on this and the two subsequent Voyages of Sir John 
Hawkins is, that they were the first initiation of the English into the 
execrable iniquities of the African slave trade, and the horrors of the 
middle passage. 

While the primary object of these voyages was Traffic : the secondary 
one was Discovery ; to find out those West Indian coasts which the 
Spaniards had hitherto kept so secret. Notice how each successive 
expedition penetrated further and further towards the Gulf of Mexico. 

It should also be remembered that, at the time of these Voyages, 
Hawkins had not been knighted, and was siipply an Esquire.] 

[Voyagts. 1589.] 

The first Voyage of the right worshipful and valiant Knight, 
Sir John Hawkins (now [i.e., in 1589] Treasurer of Her 
Majesty's Royal Navy), made to the West Indies. 

Aster John Hawkins having made divers voyages 
to the Isles of the CanarieSs ; and there, by his good 
and upright dealing, being grown in love and 
favour with the people, informed himself amongst 
them, by diligent inquisition, of the state of the 
West India : whereof he had received somig knowledge by 
the instructions of his father ; but increased the same, by the 
advertisements and reports of that people. 

And being, amongst other particulars, assured that Negroes 
were very good merchandise in Hispaniola ; and that store of 
Negroes might easily be had upon tne coast of Guinea ; he re- 
solved with himself to make trial thereof: and communicated 
that device with his worshipful friends in London, namely, 
with Sir Lionel DUcket, Sir Thomas Lodge, Master 
GuNSTON his father-in-law. Sir William Winter, Master 
Bromfield, and others. All which persons liked so well of 
his intention, that they became liberal Contributors and 
Adventurers in the action. 

For which purpose, there were three good ships imme- 
diately provided, the one called the Solomon, of the burthen 

EXG. G.1R. v. 2 


i8 The First Voyage is to Hispaniola only. [^^^^^'^g. 

of 120 tons, wherein Master Hawkins himself went as General 
[i.e., Admiral] ; the second, the Swallow, of loo tons, wherein 
went for Captain, Master Thomas Hampton ; and the third, 
the Jonas, a bark of 40 tons, wherein the Master suppHed 
the Captain's room. In which small fleet, Master Hawkins 
took with him not above a hundred men, for fear of sickness 
and other inconveniences, whereunto men in long voyages 
are commonly subject. 

With which company, he put off and departed from the 
coast of England, in the month of October, 1562 ; and in his 
course, touched first at Teneriffe, where he received friendly 
entertainment. From thence, he passed to Sierra Leone, upon 
the coast of Guinea ; which place, by the people of the country 
is called Tagarin ; where he stayed some good time, and got 
into his possession, partly by the sword, and partly by other 
means, to the number of three hundred Negroes, at the least; 
besides other merchandise which that country yieldeth. 

With this prey, he sailed over the ocean sea unto the 
island of Hispaniola, and arrived first at the port of Isabella; 
and there he had reasonable utterance of his English Com- 
modities, as also of some part of his Negroes : trusting the 
Spaniards no further than that, by his own strength, he was 
able still to master them. 

From the port of Isabella, he went to Porte de Plata, 
where he made like sales : standing always upon his guard. 

From thence also, he sailed to Monte Christi, another port 
on the north side of Hispaniola ; and the last place of his 
touching : where he had peaceable traffic, and made vent of 
the whole number of his Negroes. 

For which he received, in those three places, by way of ex- 
change, such a quantity of merchandise, that he did not only 
lade his own three ships with hides, ginger, sugar, and some 
quantity of pearls ; but he freighted also two other Hulks with 
hides and other like commodities, which he sent into Spain. 

And thus leaving the island, he returned and disimboked 
[disemboqued, i.e., went out into the main ocean], passing by the 
islands of the Caicos, without further entering into the Bay 
of Mexico, in this his First Voyage to the West India. 

And so, with prosperous success, and much gain to himself 
and the aforesaid Adventurers, he came home, and arrived in 
the month of September, 1563. 

A Poem of Dancing. 

Judicially proving the true 

observation of Time and 

Measure, in the authen- 

tical and laudable 

use of Dancing. 

Ovid, Art. Aman. lib. i. 
Si vox at, canta : si mollia hrachia, salta 
Et quacunque potes dote placere, place. 

At London^ 

Printed by J. R o b a r t s for N. L i n c. 


[The following entries at Stationers' Hall prove that this Poem, com- 
posed in fifteen days, was written not later than June, 1594 ; though it 
did not come to the press till November, 1596. 

25 31ttni< [1594]. 

Master Harrison. Entred for his copie in Court holden this day/ a 
Sen tor. booke entituled, Orchestra, or a poetne of Daunsing, 


Transcript b^c. ii. 655. Ed. 1875. 

xxj° Die JI5obeml)ri!ci [1596]. 

Nicholas Lyng/ Entered for his copie under th[e h]andes of Master 
Jackson and master Warden Dawson, a booke 
called Orchestra, or a poeme of Dauncinge. vjd. 

Tra>iscri/>t &'c. iii. 74. Ed. 1876.] 



€^^^ To his very friend, 
Master Richard Martin 

WHOM, shall I, this Dancing Poem send; 
This sudden, rash, half-capreol of my wit ? 
To you ! first mover, and sole cause of it ! 
Mine own-self s better half ! my dearest friend ! 

would you, yet, my Muse, some honey lend 
From your mellifluous tongue {whereon doth sit 
Suada in majesty) ! that I may fit 

These harsh begitmings, with a sweeter end ! 
You know the modest sun, ftdl fifteen times. 
Blushing did rise, and blushing did descend, 
While I, in making of these ill made rhymes, 
My golden hours, unthriftily did spend : 

Yet if, in friendship, you, these Numbers praise ; 

1 will mispend another fifteen days ! 

•^^^^-^^^^■^ 4"4^4"4^^-4^4-"^4"4^4' 


[The following Dedication was substituted in a later edition, ? that ot 

To the Prince. 

[?>., Henry, Pi'ince of IValbs.j 

Ir ! Whatsoever You are pleased to do ; 
It is your special praise, that you are bent, 
And sadly set your Princely mind thereto : 
Which makes You in each thing so excellent. 

Hence it is, that You came so soon to be 
A Man-at-arms in every point aright, 
The fairest flower of noble Chivalry, 
And of Saint George his Band, the bravest Knight. 

And hence it is, that all your youthful train 
In activeness and grace. You do excel ; 
When You do Courtly dancings entertain. 
Then Dancing's praise may be presented well ! 

To You, whose action adds more praise thereto ! 
Than all the Muses, with their pens can do.] 

••^••3it- -Jit--^" ■•»• •j|t--&"-^- •&--ji--^^^ 




A Poem of Dancing. 

Here lives the man, that never yet did hear 
Of chaste Penelope, Ulysses's Queen ? 
Who kept her faith unspotted twenty year; 
Till he returned, that far away had been, 
And many men and many towns had seen : 
Ten years at Siege of Troy, he ling'ring 

And ten years in the midland sea did 


Homer, to whom the Muses did carouse 
A great deep cup, with heavenly nectar filled; 
The greatest deepest cup in Jove's great house 
(For Jove himself had so expressly willed) : 
He drank of all, ne let one drop be spilled ; 

Since when, his brain, that had before been dry, 
Became the Wellspring of all Poetry. 

24 Orchestra, a Poem or Dancing. p7un^YJ94: 


Homer doth tell, in his abundant verse. 
The long laborious travails of the Man ; 
And of his Lady too, he doth rehearse, 
How she eludes, with all the art she can, 
Th'ungrateful love, which other Lords began. 

For of her Lord, false Fame, long since, had sworn 
That Neptunk's monsters had his carcass torn. 


All this he tells. But one thing he forgot! 

One thing most worthy his eternal Song ! 

But he was old, and blind ; and saw it not : 

Or else he thought he should Ulysses wrong. 

To mingle it, his tragic acts among. 

Yet was there not, in all the world of things, 
A sweeter burden for his Muse's wings. 


The Courtly love, Antinous did make! 
Antinous, that fresh and jolly Knight! 
Which of the Gallants did undertake 
To win the Widow, had most Wealth and Might, 
Wit to persuade, and Beauty to delight ! 

The Courtly love he made unto the Queen, 

Homer forgot, as if it had not been. 


Sing then, Terpsichore ! my light Muse ! sing 

His gentle art and cunning courtesy ! 

You, Lady ! can remember everything. 

For you are daughter of Queen Memory ! 

But sing a plain and easy melody. 

For the soft mean that warbleth but the ground, 
To my rude ear, doth yield the sweetest sound. 

^l' jixnt'^jsTi^ O J? c // £ s T /? A , A Poem of Dancing. 25 


Only one night's I)iscourse I can report ! 

When the great Torchbearer of heaven was gone 

Down, in a masque, unto the Ocean's Court, 

To revel it with Thetis, all alone ; 

Antinous disguised, and unknown. 

Like to the Spring in gaudy ornament, 
Unto the Castle of the Princess went. 

The sovereign Castle of the rocky isle, 
Wherein Penelope the Princess lay, 
Shone with a thousand lamps, which did exile 
The dim dark shades, and turned the night to day. 
Not Jove's blue tent, what time the sunny ray 
Behind the bulwark of the earth retires. 
Is seen to sparkle with more twinkling fires ! 

That night, the Queen came forth from far within, 
And in the presence of her Court was seen. 
For the sweet singer Phcemius did begin 
To praise the Worthies that at Troy had been : 
Somewhat of her Ulysses she did ween, 

In his grave Hymn, the heavenly man would sing, 

Or of his wars, or of his wandering ! 


Pallas, that hour, with her sweet breath divine. 

Inspired immortal beauty in her eyes, 

That with celestial glory she did shine 

Brighter than Venus, when she doth arise 

Out of the waters to adorn the skies. 
The Wooers, all amazed, do admire 
And check their own presumptuous Desire. 

26 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing, p/ 

une 1594. 


Only Antinous, when at first he viewed 
Her star-bright eyes, that with new honour shined, 
Was not dismayed ; but therewithal renewed 
The noblesse and the splendour of his mind : 
And, as he did fit circumstances find, 

Unto the throne, he boldly 'gan advance, 

And, with fair manners, wooed the Queen to dance. 


Goddess of women ! sith your heavenliness 
Hath now vouchsafed itself to represent 
To our dim eyes ; which though they see the less, 
Yet are they blest in their astonishment : 
Imitate heaven ! whose beauties excellent 

A re in continual motion, day and night ; 

And move thereby more wonder and delight. 


Let me the mover be, to turn about 

Those glorious ornaments that Youth and Love 

Have fixed in you, every part throughout : 

Which if you will in timely measure move ; 

Not all those precious gems in heaven above 
Shall yield a sight more pleasing to behold 
With all their turns and tracings manifold ! 


With this, the modest Princess blushed and smiled 

Like to a clear and rosy eventide, 

And softly did return this answer mild : 

Fair Sir ! You needs must fairly be denied, 

Where your demand cannot be satisfied. 

My feet, which only Nature taught to go, 
Did never yet, the Art of Footing know. 

7un^T594.] ^^'^^^^-^^^^^ A Poem of Dancing. 27 

Btit why persuade you me, to this new rage ? 

For all Disorder and Misrule is new : 

For such misgovernment informer Age 

Our old divine forefathers never knew ; 

Who if they lived, and did the follies view. 

Which their fond nephews make their chief affairs ^ 
Would hate themselves, that had begot sttch heirs* 


Sole Heir of Virtue, and of Beauty both ! 

Whence cometh it, Antinous replies, 

That your imperious Virtue is so loath 

To grant your Beauty her chief exercise ? 

Or from what spring doth your opinion rise 
That Dancing is a Frenzy and a Rage, 
First known and used in this new-fangled Age ? 

Dancing, bright Lady ! then, began to be, 
When the first seeds whereof the world did spring ; 
The Fire, Air, Earth, and Water did agree 
By Love's persuasion (Nature's mighty King !) 
To leave their first disordered combating ; 

And, in a dance, such Measure to observe, 
As all the world, their motion should preserve* 


Since when, they still are carried in a round; 
A nd changing come one in another's place : 
Yet do they neither mingle nor confound. 
But every one doth keep the bounded space. 
Wherein the Dance doth bid it turn or trace. 
This wondrous miracle did LoVE devise^ 
For Dancing is Love's proper exercise. 

28 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. [tjun^'eTig": 


Like this, he framed the gods' eternal bower , 

And of a shapeless and confused mass, 

By his throngh-piercing and digesting power, 

The turning Vault of Heaven framed was ; 

Whose starry wheels he hath so made to pass 
As that their movings do a Music frame. 
And they themselves still dance unto the same. 


Or if " this All, which roundabout we see,^' 

As idle Morpheus some sick brains hath taught, 

*' Of undivided motes compacted be," 

How was this goodly architecture wrought ? 

Or by what means were they together brought ? 

They err, that say, ** they did concur by Chance ! " 
Love made them meet in a well ordered Dance! 


As when, Amphion with his charming Lyre, 

Begot so sweet a Siren of the air. 

That, with her rhetoric, made the stones conspire, 

The ruins of a city to repair 

{A work of Wit ! and Reason's wise affair I) : 

So Love's smooth tongue, the motes, such measure taught, 
That they joined hands ; and so the world was wrought ! 


How justly then is Dancing termed new. 
Which, with the world, in point of time began ? 
Yea Time itself (whose birth Jove never knew, 
A nd which is far more ancient than the sun) 
Had not one moment of his age outrun. 

When out leaped Dancing from the heap of things ! 

And lightly rode upon his nimble wings! 

f JuS'ill'^] O y^ c /J £ s T J? A , A Poem of Dancing. 29 


Reason hath both their pictures in her Treasure ; 

Where Time the Measure of all moviug is, 

A nd Dancing is a Moving in all measure. 

Now, if you do resemble that to this, 

And think both One; I think, yoti think amiss! 
But if you judge them Twins, together got, 
And Time first born; your judgement erreth not I 


Thus doth it equal age with Age enjoy, 

A nd yet, in lusty youth for ever flowers I 

Like Love, his Sire ! whom painters make a boy J 

Yet is he Eldest of the Heavenly Powers. 

Or like his brother Time, whose winged hours, 

Going and coming, will not let him die, 

But still preserve him in his infancy > 


This said, the Queen, with her sweet lips divine, 

Gently be^an to move the subtle air, 

Which gladly yielding, did itself incline 

To take a shape between those rubies fair; 

And being formed, softly did repair, 

With twenty doublings in the empty way, 
Unto Antinous' ears, and thus did say. 


What eye doth see the heaven, but doth admire 

When it the movings of the heavens doth see } 

Myself, if I, to heaven may once aspire ; 

If that be Dancing, will a dancer be I 

But as for this, your frantic jollity ! 

How it began, or whence you did it learns 
I never could, with Reason's eye discern ? 

JO Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. [t/^„°e"s9v 

Antinous answered, Jcwd of the earth ! 
Worthy you are, that heatenly Dance to lead ! 
But for you think our Dancing base of birth, 
And newly born but of a brain-sick head, 
I will forthwith his antique gentry read ! 

And (for I love hint !) will his herald be ! 

And blaze his arms, and draw his pedigree ! 


When Love had shaped this world, this great fair wight, 
(That all wights else, in this wide womb contains), 
And had instructed it to dance aright 
A thousand measures, with a thousand strains, 
Which it should practise with delightful pains, 
Until that fatal instant should revolve, 
When all to nothing should again resolve : 


The comely Order and Proportion fair 

On every side, did please his wandering eye ; 

Till glancing through the thin transparent air, 

A rude disordered rout, he did espy, 

Of men and women, that most spitefully 

Did one another throng and crowd so sore. 
That his kind eye, in pity, wept therefore, 


And swifter than the lightning down he came. 

Another shapeless chaos to digest. 

He will begin another world to frame 

{For Love, till all be well, will never rest /). 

Then with such words as cannot be expresst, 
He cuts the troops, that all asunder Jiing, 
A nd ere they wist, he casts them in a ring. 

^l'' JunJ'iiri^ O /? c // £ s T ji A , A Poem of Dancing. 31 


Then did he rarify the Element ^ 

A nd in the centre of the ring appear ; 

The beams that from his forehead shining went, 

Begot a horror and religious fear 

In all the souls that round about him were, 

Which in their ears attentiveness procures. 

While he, with such like sounds, their minds allures. 


** How doth Confusions'" s Mother, headlong Chance 
Put Reason's noble squadron to the rout ? 
Or how should you, that have the governance 
Of Nature's children, heaven and earth throughout. 
Prescribe them rules, and live yourselves without ? 

Why should your fellowship a trouble be ? 

Since Man's chief pleasure is Society ! " 


" If Sense hath not yet taught you, learn of me 
A comely moderation and discreet ! 
That your assemblies may well ordered be. 
When my uniting power shall make you meet. 
With heavenly tunes, it shall be tempered sweet ; 
And be the model of the world's great frame. 
And you, Earth's children, Dancing shall it name!'' 


" Behold the world, how it is whirled round I 
And for it is so whirled, is named so : 
In whose large volume, many rules are found 
Of this new Art, which it doth fairly show. 
For your quick eyes in wandering to and fro, 

From East to West, on no one thing can glance ; 

Bid (if you mark it well!) it seems to dance ! " 

\2 O RC JIEST RA, A PoEM OF DaJ^CING. [■'^,'''j 


"First, you see fixed in this huge mirror blue. 
Of trembling lights, a number numberless ; 
Fixed, they are named ! but with a name untrue ; 
For they are moved ! and in a dance express 
The great long Year ! that doth contain no less 
Than threescore htmdreds of those years in all. 
Which the Sun makes with his course natural.'* 


" What if to you these sparks disordered seem. 

As if by chance they had been scattered there ! 

The gods, a solemn measure do it deem ! 

A nd see a just proportion everywhere, 

And know the points, whence first their movings were. 

To which first points, when all return again; 

TheAxletree of Heaven shall break in twain /" 


" Under that spangled sky, five wandering Flames, 
Besides the King of Day and Queen of Night, 
A re wheeled around, all in their sundry frames, 
And all in sundry measures do delight! 
Yet altogether keep no measure right. 

For by itself, each doth itself advance ! 

And by itself, each doth a GalUard dance ! " 


" Venus {the mother of that bastard LoVE, 
Which doth usurp the world's Great Marshals name). 
Just with the sun, her dainty feet doth move ; 
A nd unto him doth all her gestures frame ! 
Now after, now afore, the flattering Dame, 
With divers cunning passages doth err, 
Still him respecting, that respects not her.'* 

une 1594. 

?■ hnJ'llT,] Orchestra, a P o e .m of Dancing. ^^ 


" For that brave SUN, the Father of the Day ! 

Doth love this Earth, the Mother of the Night ! 

And like a reveller, in rich array, 

Doth dance his Galliard, in his leman's sight ; 

Both hack, and forth, and sideways passing light. 
His gallojit grace doth so the gods amaze, 
That all stand still, and at his beauty gaze.'' 


"But see the Earth, when she approacheth near. 

How she for joy doth spring and sweetly smile I 

But see again, her sad and heavy cheer ; 

When, changing places, he retires a while ! 

But those black clouds he shortly will exile. 

And make them all before his presence fly , 
As mists consumed before his cheerf id eye!" 


" Who doth not see the Measures of the Moon 

Which thirteen times she danceth every year, 

A nd ends her Pavin thirteen times as soon 

As doth her brother, of whose golden hair 

She borroweth part, and proudly doth it wear. 
Then doth she coyly turn her face aside 
That half her cheek is scarce sometimes descried." 


" Next her, the pure, subtle, and cleansing fire 

Is swiftly carried in a circle even : 

Though Vulcan be pronounced by many, a liar, 

The only halting god that dwells in heaven. 

But that foul name may be more fitly given 

To your false fire, that far from heaven is fall, 
And doth consume, waste, spoil, disorder all." 

Eng. Car. V. 3 

34 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing, p/, 

uue 1594. 


^^ And now, behold your tender nurse, the Air ! 
And common neighbour that aye runs around ; 
How many pictures and impressions fair, 
Within her empty regions are there found, 
Which to your senses, Dancing do propound ? 

For what are breath ! speech ! echoes ! music ! winds ! 

But Dancings of the Air, in sundry kinds ? " 


" For when you Breathe, the air in order moves ; 

Now in, now out, in time and measure true ! 

And when you Speak, so well the Dancing loves 

That doubling oft, and oft redoubling new. 

With thousand forms she doth herself endue. 

For all the words that from your lips repair. 
Are nought but tricks and turnings of the Air ! " 


** Hence is her prattling daughter. Echo, born I 

That dances to all voices she can hear. 

There is no sound so harsh that she doth scorn ; 

Nor any time, wherein she will forbear 

The airy pavement with her feet to wear ! 

And yet her hearing sense is nothing quick, 

For after time she endcih every trick." 


''And thou, sweet Music ! Dancing's only life ! 

The Ear's sole liappiness ! the A ir's best speech ! 

Loadstone of fellowship ! Charming rod of strife ! 

The soft mind's Paradise ! the sick mind's Leech ! 

With thine own tongue, thou trees and stones canst teach, 
That when the A ir doth dance her finest measure, 
Then art thou born ! the s^ods' and men's sweet pleasured* 

^r An^'''i794':] Orchestra, a Poem of D a x\ c i n g 

" Lastly, where keep the Winds their revelry, 
Their violent turnings, and wild whirling Hayes ; 
But in the Air s tra[ns]luccnt gallery ? 
Where she herself is turned a hundred ways. 
While with those Maskers, wantonly she plays. 
Yet in this misrule, they such rule embrace 
As two, at once, encumber not the place,'' 


" If then Fire, Air, Wandering and Fixed Lights, 

In every province oj th' imperial sky. 

Yield perfect forms of Dancing to your sights; 

In vain I teach the ear, that which the eye, 

With certain view, already doth descry ! 

But for your eyes perceive not all they see. 
In this, I will your senses' master bel" 

*' For lo, the Sea that fleets about the land. 
And like a girdle clips her solid waist. 
Music a7id Measure both doth understand I 
For this great Crystal Eye is always cast 
Up to the Moon, and on her fixed fast ; 

And as she danceth, in her pallid sphere^ 
So danceth he about the centre here ! " 


*' Sometimes his proud green waves, in order set. 

One after other, flow unto the shore ; 

Which when they have, with many kisses wet, 

They ebb away in order, as before : 

And to make known his Courtly Love the more, 
He oft doth lay aside his three-forked mace. 
And with his arms, the timorous Earth embrace." 

36 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing, [t/'n^'xtt 


" Only the Earth doth stand for ever still. 
Her rocks remove not, nor her mountains meet 
(Although some wits enriched with learnings skill, 
Say 'Heaven stands firm I and that the Earth doth fleets 
And swiftly turneth underneath their feet') ; 
Yet though the Earth is ever steadfast seen, 
On her broad breast, hath Dancing ever been.'* 


''For those blue veins, that through her body spread ; 
Those sapphire streams which from great hills do spring, 
(The Earth's great dugs ! for every wight is fed 
With sweet fresh moisture from them issuing) 
Observe a Dance in their wild wandering ! 

And still their Dance begets a murmur sweet, 
And still the Murmur icith the Dance doth meet /" 


" Of all their ways, I love Mceander's path ; 
Which, to the tunes of dying swans, doth dance 
Such wi)iding slights. Such turns and tricks he hath. 
Such creeks, such ivrenches, aad such daliancc 
That (li'hether it be hap or heedless chance) 
In his indented course and wringing play. 
He seems to dance a perfect cunning Hay." 


" But wherefore do these streams for ever run ? 
To keep themselves for ever sweet and clear ! 
For let their everlasting course be done, 
They straight, corrupt and foul with mud appear I 
ye sweet Nymphs, that beauty's loss do fear. 

Contemn the drugs that physic doth devise; 

And learn of Love, this dainty exercise ! " 

^ijlxMilllilOjiCi/EST/iA, A Poem of Dancing. 3; 


" See how those floivcrs, that have sivect bcaiify too, 
(The only jewels that the Earth doth wear 
When the young SuN in bravery, her cloth woo /) 
And oft as they, the whistling wind do hear, 
Do wave their tender bodies here and there : 

And though their dance no perfect measure is ; 

Yet oftentimes their music makes them kiss ! " 


" What makes the Vine about the Elm to dance 
With turnings, windings, and embracements round ? 
What makes the loadstone to the North advance 
His subtle point, as if from thence he found 
His chief attractive virtue to redound ? 

Kind Nature, first, doth cause all things to love ! 

Love makes them dance, and in just order move ! " 

"Hark how the birds do sing I and mark then how, 
Jump with the modulation of their lays, 
They lightly leap, and skip from bough to bough! 
Yet do the cranes deserve a greater praise, 
Which keep such measure in their airy ways: 

As when they all in order ranked are, 

They make a perfect form triangular." 


*' In the chief angle, fiics the watchful guide; 

And all the followers their heads do lay 

On their foregoers' backs, on either side : 

But, for the Captain hath no rest to stay 

His head forwearied with the w'indy way, 

He back retires; and then the next behind, 

As his Lieutenant, leads them through the wind." 

38 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. [^Ju^YJ^; 


" By why relate I, every singular ? 

Since all the world's great fortunes and affairs, 

Forward and backward rapt and ivhirlcd are ; 

According to the music of the spheres ! 

And Chance herself, her nimble feet upbears 

On a round slippery wheel, that rolleth aye, 
And turns all states with her impetuous sway ?" 


^^ Learn then to dance ! you, that are Princes born! 

And lawful Lords of earthly creatures all! 

Imitate them, and thereof take no scorn ! 

For this new Art to them is natural. 

And imitate the stars celestial! 

For when pale Death, your vital tiuist shall sever, 
Your better parts must dance with them for ever ! " 


Tlius Love persuades, and all the crowd of men 
That stands around, doth malie a murmuring. 
As wJien the wind, loosed from his hollow den. 
Among the trees, a gentle bass doth sing ; 
Or as a brook, through pebbles wandering : 

But in tJieir looks, tliey uttered tJiis plain speech, 

** Tliat they would learn to dance, if LoVE would teacli! " 


Tlien, first of all, he doth demonstrate plain, 
Tlie motions seven that are in Nature found ; 
Upward and downward, forth and back again. 
To tJiis side, and to that, and turning round : 
Whereof a tJiousand Brawls he doth compound, 

Which lie doth teacli unto the multitude; 

And ever, with a turn they must conclude. 

T/an^TJgf] ^^^^^^'■^■^^'^' A PoEM OF Dancing. 2)9 


As when a Nymph arising from the land, 

Leadcth a dance, with her long watery train^ 
• Down to the sea, she wries to every hand, 

And every way doth cross the fertile plain ; 

But when, at last, she falls into the Main, 
Then all her traverses concluded are, 
And with the sea, her course is circidar, 


Thus, when, at first, LoVE had them marshalled, 
(As erst he did the shapeless mass of things) 
He taught them Rounds and winding Heyes to tread. 
And about the trees, to cast themselves in rings : 
As the two Bears, whom the First Mover flings 
With a short turn, about Heaven's Axle-tree, 
In a round dance, for ever wheeling be. 


But after these, as men more civil grew, 

He did more grave and solemn Measures frame ; 

With such fair order and proportion true, 

And correspondence every way the same, 

That no fault-finding eye did ever blame : 
For every eye was moved at the sight 
With sober wondering, and with sweet delight. 


Not tJiose old students of the heavenly book, 

Atlas the great, Prometheus the wise; 

Which on the stars did all their lifetime look, 

Could ever find such measures in the skies, 

So fidl of change and rare varieties : 

Yet all the feet ivhcreon these measures go 
Are only Spondees, solemn, grave, and slow. 

40 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. R'/in^Tif 


But for more clivers and more pleasing show, 

A swift and wandering dance, She did invent ; 

With passages uncertain, to and fro, 

Yet with a certain Answer and Consent 

To the quick music of the instrument. * 

Five was the number of the Music's feet ; 

Which still the Dance did with five paces meet. 


A gallant Dance ! that lively doth bewray 

A spirit and a virtue masculine ; 

Impatient that her house on earth should stay, 

Since she herself is fiery and divine. 

Oft doth she make her body upward flyne 

With lofty turns and caprioles in the air, 
Which with the lusty tunes accordeth fair* 


What sJiall I name those current travascs. 

That on a triple Dactyl foot, do run 

Close by ilie ground, with sliding passages ; 

Wherein that dancer greatest praise hath won, 

Which with best order can all orders shun ; 
For everywhere he ivantonly must range, 
And turn, and wind, with unexpected change. 


Yet is there one, the most delightful kind, 

A lofty jumping, or a leaping round ! 

When, arm in arm, two dancers are entivined, 

And whirl themselves, with strict embracemcnts bound. 

And still their feet an Anapcst do sound I 

A n A napcst is all their music's song ; 

Whose first two feet are short, and third is long. 

^r'juSTsM-] Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. 41 


As the victorious twins of L JED A and jfOVE, 

{That taught the Spartans dancing on the sands 

Of swift Eurotas) dance in heaven abovCy 

Knit and united with eternal bands ; 

Among the stars, their double image stands, 

Where both are carried with an equal pace, 
Together jumping in their turning race. 


This is the net, wherein the sun's bright eye, 
Venus and Mars entangled did behold.' 
For in this dance, their arms they so imply, 
As each doth seem, the other to enfold. 
What if lewd wits another tale have told, 

Of jealous VULCAN, and of iron chains ! 

Yet this true sense, that forged lie contains. 


These various forms oj dancing, LoVE did frame. 
And besides these, a hundred millons }no[r]e ; 
And as he did invent, he taught the same : 
With goodly gesture, and with comely show. 
Now keeping state, now humbly honouring low. 
And ever for the persons and the place, 
He taught most fit, and best according grace. 


For Love, within his fertile working brain, 

Did then conceive those gracious Virgins three, 

Whose civil moderation did maintain 

All decent order and convenicncy. 

And fair respect, and seemly modesty : 

And then, he thought it fit they should be barn. 
That their sweet presence, Dancing might adorn. 

42 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. p/un'^^sS: 

Hence is it, that these Graces painted are 
With hand in hand, dancing an endless round ; 
And ivith regarding eyes, that still beware 
That there be no disgrace amongst them found : 
With equal foot, they beat the flowery ground, 

Laughing, or singing, as their Passions will; 

Yet nothing that they do, becomes them ill ! 


Thus Love taught men ! and men thus learned of Love, 

Sweet Music's sound, with feet to cotmter/eit : 

Which was long time before high-thundering JoVE 

Was lifted up to Heaven's imperial seat. 

For though by birth, he were the Prince of Crete ; 

Nov Crete, nor Heaven should that young Prince have 
If dancers with their timbrels, had not been ! [seeUy 


Since when ; all ceremonious mysteries, 

A II sacred orgies and religious rites. 

All pomps, and triumphs, and solemnities. 

All Junerals, nuptials, and like public sights, 

All parliaments of peace, and warlike fights, 
All learned arts, and every great affair, 
A lively shape of Dancing seems to bear. 


For what did he, who, with his ten-tongued Lute, 
Gave beasts and blocks an understanding ear ; 
Or rather into bestial minds and brutes, 
Shed and infused the beams of Reason clear ? 
Doubtless, for men that rude and savage were, 

A civil form of Dancing he devised ! 

Wherewith unto their gods, they sacrificed ! 

^i" jnFj'illl'^i O A' c // E s 7 J^: A , A Poem of Dancing. 43 


So did Mus.EUS ! so Amphion did ! 
And Linus, with his sweet enchanting Song ! 
A nd he, whose hand, the earth of monsters -rid, 
A nd had men's ears fast chained to his tongnc ! 
And Theseus to his wood-bom slaves among ^ 

Used Dancing, as the finest policy 

To plant Religion and Society ! 


And therefore, now, the Thracian Orpheus' lyre, 

And Hercules himself are stellified, 

And in high heaven, amidst the starry quire 

Dancing their parts, continually do slide. 

So, on the Zodiac, Ganymede doth ride ! 
And so is Hebe with the Muses nine, 
For pleasing JOVE with dancing, made divine ! 


Wherefore was Proteus said himself to change 
Into a stream ! a lion ! and a tree ! 
And many other forms fantastic strange, 
As, in his fickle thought, he wished to be ? 
But that he danced with such facility, 

As, like a lion, he could pace with pride ! 

Ply like a plant I and like a river slide ! 


And how was CcENEUS made, at first, a man ! 
And then, a woman ! then, a man again ! . 
But in a Dance ? which when he first began 
He, the man's part in measure did sustain : 
But when he changed into a second strain. 

He danced the wonuvis part another space ; 

And then returned unto his former place. 

44 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. py^iS'it 


Hence sprang the fable of TiRESlAS, 

That he the pleasure of both sexes tried ; 

For, in a dance, he man and woman was, 

By often change of place, from side to side, 

But, for the woman easily did slide, 

And smoothly swim with cunning hidden Art, 
He took more pleasure in a woman's part. 

- 84. 

So to a fish, Venus herself did change! 

And swimming through the soft and yielding wave, 

With gentle motions did so smoothly range, 

As none might see where she the ivater drave ! 

But this plain truth, that falsed fable gave. 
That she did dance with sliding easiness. 
Pliant and quick in wandering passages. 


And merry Bacchus practised dancing too ! 

And to the Lydian numbers. Rounds did make. 

The like he did in th' Eastern India do, 

And taught them all, when Phcebus did azvake ; 

And when, at. night, he did his coach forsake, 

To honour heaven, and heaven's great rolling eye, 
With turning dances, and with melody. 


Thus they who first did found a Common weal, 
A nd they who first Religion did ordain ; 
By dancing first, the people's hearts did steal : 
Of whom tve now a tliousand tales do feign. 
Yet do we now their perfect rides retain, 

And use them still in such devices new ; 

As in the world, long since, their withering grew. 

^i7uiSTs94'.] O k c II est r a, a Pokm of Dancing. 45 

For after Toicii'; and Kingdoms founded urrc ; 
Between great states arose ivell-ordered war I 
Wherein most perfect Measure doth appear : 
Whether their well set Ranks respected are, 
In quadrant forms or semicircular ; 

Or else the March, when all the troops advance, 

Unto the drum in gallant order dance. 


And after wars, when wliite-winged Victory 
Is with a glorious Triumph beautified ; 
A nd every one doth Ico ! Ico ! cry. 
While all in gold, the Conqueror doth ride. 
The solenm pomp that fills the city wide 

Observes such Rank and Measure everywhere. 

As if tJiey altogether dancing were. 


The like just order. Mourners do observe. 
But with unlike affection and attire, 
When some great man, that nobly did deserve, 
A nd whom his friends impatiently desire, 
Is brought with honour, to his last fire. 

The dead corpse, too, in that sad dance is moved ! 

As if both dead and living, dancing loved, 


A diverse cause, but like solemnity, 

Unto the Temple leads the bashful bride ! 

Which blusheth like the Indian ivory 

Which is with dip of Tyrian purple dyed. 

A golden troop doth pass on every side, 

Of flourishing young men and virgins gay, 
Which keep fair Measure all the flowery way. 

46 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing, ^'^u 


And not alone the general multitude 

But those choice Nestors, which in counsel grave. 

Of cities and of kingdoms do conclude, 

Most comely order in their sessions have ! 

Wherefore the wise Thessalians ever gave 

The name of Leader of their Country's Dance, 
To him, that had their country's governance. 


And those great Masters of the liberal arts, 
In all their several Schools, do Dancing teach ! 
For humble Grammar first doth set the parts, 
Of congruent and well according Speech. 
Which Rhetoric, whose state the clouds doth reach, 
A nd heavenly Poetry do forward lead. 
And divers Measures, diversely do tread. 


For Rhetoric clothing Speech in rich array, 
The looser numbers teacheth her to range 
With twenty tropes, and turnings every way, 
And various figures and licentious change : 
But Poetry, with rule and order strange 

So curiously doth move each single pace, 
A s all is marred if she one foot misplace. 


These Arts of Speech, the Guides and Marshals are ! 

But Logic leadeth Reason in a dance. 

(Reason, the Cynosure and bright Loadstar 

In this world's sea. V avoid the rocks of Chance !) 

For with close following, and continuance, 

One reason doth another so ensue ; 

As, in conclusion, still the Dance is true. 


une 1594. 

^" juFc^illlH O y^ c // £ s T Ji A , A Poem of Dancing. 47 


So Music, to her own sweet tunes doth trip, 

With tricks of ^, 5, 8, 15, and more ! 

So doth the Art of Numbering seem to skip 

From Even to Odd, in her proportioned score ! 

So do those skills, whose quick eyes do explore 

The jnst dimension both of earth and heaven^ 
In all their rides, observe a Measure even I 


Lo, this is Dancing's true nobility ! 
Dancing, the Child of Music and of Love 1 
Dancing itself, both Love and Harmony ; 
Where all agree, and all in order move ! 
Dancing the art, that all Arts doth approve ! 

The sure Character of the world's consent ! 

The heaven's true figure, and th' earth's ornament ! 

The Queen, whose dainty ears had borne too long 
The tedious praise of that she did despise, 
Adding once more the music of the tongue 
To the sweet speech of her alluring eyes ; 
Began to answer in such winning wise. 

As that forthwith, Antinous' tongue was tied, 
His eyes fast fixed, his ears were open wide. 


Forsooth, quoth she, great glory you have won 
To your trim million, Dancing, all this while, 
By blazing him Love's first begotten son ! 
Of every ill, the hateful father vile. 
That doth the world, with sorceries beguile ! 

Cunningly mad ! religiously profane ! 

Wit's monster ! Reason's canker ! Sense's banc ! 

48 RC 11 RSTRA, A PoEM OF DaNCING. p'/u^j^^sg!'. 

Love taught the mother that nnkind desire, 
To ivash her hands, in her own infant's blood ! 
Love taught the daughter to betray her sire 
Into most base unworthy servitude ! 
Love taught the brother to prepare such food 

To feast his brothers, that the all-seeing sun. 
Wrapt in a cloud, the wicked sight did shun ! 


And even this selfsame LoVE hath Dancing taught ! 

An Art that shewed th'Idca of his mind ! 

With vainness, frenzy, and misorder fraught ; 

Sometimes with blood and cruelties unkind ! 

For in a dance, Tereus' mad luife did find 
Fit time and place, by murdering her son, 
Tavenge the wrong, his traitorous sire had done ! 


What mean the Mermaids, when they dance and sin^^ 

But certain death unto the mariner ? 

What tidings do the dancing Dolphins bring. 

But that some dangerous storm approacheth near ? 

Then since both Love and Dancing liveries bear 
Of such ill hap : unhappy may they prove 
That^ sitting free, will either dance or love I 


Yet, once again, Antinous did reply, 
Great Queen ! condemn not LoVE the innocent, 
For this mischievous LuST, which traitorously 
Usurps his Name, and steals his Ornament ! 
For that True Love, which Dancing did invent, 
Is he that tuned the world's whole harmony. 
And linked all men in sweet society ! 

^? 'An^TsS.'] Orchestra, a Poem of D a x c i x g . 49 


He first extracted from th' earth-mingled mindf 
That heavenly fire, or quintessence divine, 
Which doth such sympathy in Beauty find ^ 
As is between the Elm and fruitful Vine ; 
A nd so to Beauty ever doth incline ! 

Life's life it is ! and cordial to the heart ! 

And of our better part, the better part ! 


This is True Love, by that true CuPli) got; 

Which danceth Galliards in your amorous eyes. 

But to your frozen heart approacheth not ! 

Only your heart, he dares not enterprise ! 

And yet through every other part he flies, 

And everywhere he nimbly danceth now. 
That in yourself, yourself perceive not how I 


For your sweet beauty daintily transfused 

With due proportion, throughout every part ; 

What is it but a dance where LoVE hath used 

His finer cunning, and more curious Art ? 

Where all the Elements themselves impart. 

And turn, and wind, and mingle with such measuret 
That th' eye that sees it, surfeits with the pleasure. 


Love in the twinkling of your eyelids danceth ! 
Love dances in your pulses, and your veins ! 
Love, when you sen), your needle's point advanceth, 
And makes it dance a thousand curious strains 
Of winding rounds ; whereof the form remains 

To shew that your fair hands can dance the Hey. 

Which yo^ir fine feet would learn as well as they. 

£.vo. Gar. V. a 

50 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. p/un^*''is< 


And, when your ivory fingers touch the strings 

Of any silver-sounding instrument, 

Love makes them dance to those sweet mwmurings, 

With busy skill, and cunning excellent ! 

O that your feet, those times would represent 

With artificial motions to and fro ; 

That Love, this Art in every part might shew ! 


Yet your fair soul, whicli came from heaven above. 
To rule this house (another heaven below I) 
With divers powers in harmony doth move ; 
And all the virtues that from her do flow 
I71 a round measure, hand in hand do go. 

Could I now see, as I conceive this dance ; 

Wonder and Love would cast tne in a trance ! 


The richest jewel in all the heavenly treasure, 
That ever yet unto the earth was shown, 
Is Perfect Concord ! th' only perfect pleasure 
That wretched earthborn men have ever known! 
For many hearts it doth compound in one. 

That what so one doth will, or speak, or do ; 

With one consent, they all agree thereto. 


Concord's true picture shineth in this Art! 
Where divers men and women ranked be, 
And every one doth dance a several part. 
Yet all as one, in measure do agree. 
Observing perfect uniformity ! 

All turn together ! All together trace ! 

And all together honour and embrace ! 

^/un^Ts,":] Orchestra, a Poem of D a x c i \ g . 51 


If they whom sacred Love hath linked in one, 
Do, as they dance, in all their course of life ; 
Never shall burning grief nor bitter moan, 
Nor factious difference, nor unkind strife, 
Arise between the husband and the wife ! 

For ivhether forth, or back, or round he go ; 

As doth the man, so must the woman do ! 


What, if by often interchange of place, 

Sometimes the woman gets the upper hand ! 

That is but done for more delightful grace. 

For on that part, she doth not ever stand ; 

But, as the Measures' law doth her command, 

She wheels about I and, ere the dance doth end, 
Into her former place, she doth transcend ! 


But not alone, this correspondence meet 
And miiform consent, doth Dancing praise f 
For Cameliness, the child of Order sweet ! 
Enamels it with her eye-pleasing rays. 
Fair Comeliness, ten hundred thousand ways, 

Through Dancing sheds itself, and makes it shine 
With glorious beauty, and with grace divine. 


For Comeliness is a disposing fair 
Of things and actions in ft time and place ; 
Which doth in Dancing shew itself most clear 
When troops confused, luhich here and there do trace. 
Without distinguishment or bounded space, 

By dancing rule, into such ranks are brought, 
As glads the eye, and ravinheth the thought 

52 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing, p/'n'^^;^,": 

Then why should Reason judge that, reasonless ; 

Which is WiVs Offspring, and the work of Arty 

Image of Concord, and of Cormliness ? 

Who sees a clock moving in every part, 

A sailing pinnace, or a wheeling cart ; 

But thinks that Reason, ere it came to pass, 
The first impulsive cause and mover was ? 


Who sees an army all in rank advance, 
But deems a wise Commander is in place, 
Which leadeth on that brave victorious dance ? 
Much more in Dancing's A rt, in Dancing^ s grace j 
Blindness itself may Reason's footsteps trace ! 

For of Love's Ma-e, it is the curious plot ; 

And of Man's Fellowship the true-love knot f 


But if these eyes of yours (Loadstars of Love I 
Shewing the world's great Dance to your mind's eye) 
Cannot, with all their demonstrations, move 
Kind apprehension in your Phantasy 
' Of Dancing's virtue and nobility ; 

How can my barbarous tongue win you thereto. 
Which heaven's and earth's fair speech could never do ? 


O Love ! my King I If all my Wit and power 

Have done you all the service that they can ; 

O be you present, in this present hour, 

And help your servant and your true liegeman! 

End that persuasion, xchich I erst began ! 

For who in praise of Dancing can persuade 

With such sxi'eet force, as Love, which Dancing made ! 

^"/ri^^'itli^ A' C /fE.S 7 A' A, A PoEM OF DaNCING. 53 


Love heard his prayer ; and swifter than the wind, 
(Like to a page in habit, face, and speech). 
He came ; and stood Antinous behind, 
And many secrets of his thoughts did teach. 
At last, a crystal Mirror, he did reach 

Unto his hands, that he with one rash view 
All forms therein, by Love's revealing knew, 


And humbly honouring, gave it to the Queen, 

With this fair speech, See, fairest Queen! quoth he, 

The J air est sight that ever shall be seen, 

And th'only wonder oj posterity ! 

The richest work in Nature's treasury ! 

Which she disdains to shew on this world's stage. 
And thinks it far too good for our rude age. 


But in another world, divided far, 

In the great fortunate trianglcd Isle, 

Thrice twelve degrees removed from the North Star, 

She will this glorious Workmanship compile. 

Which she hatJi been conceiving all this while 

Since the world's birth ; and will bring forth at last, 
When six and twenty hundred years are past. 


Penelope the Queen, when she had viewed 

The strange eye-dazzling admirable sight, 

Fain would have praised the State and Pulchritude ; 

But she was stricken dumb with wonder quite. 

Yet her sweet mind retained her thinking might. 

Her ravished mind in heavenly thoughts did dwell : 
But what she thought, no mortal tongue can tell 1 

54 Orchestra, a Poem of D a n c i n g . \^\' ]-2^^\ 




You, Lady Muse, whom Jove the Counsellor 

Be^ot of Memory ! Wisdom's Treasuress ! 

To your divining tongue is given a power 

Of uttering secrets, large and limitless ! 

You can, Penelope's strange thoughts express ; 

Which she conceived, and then would fain have told ; 

When she, the wondrous Crystal did behold ! 


Her winged thoughts bore up her mind so high, 
As that she weened she saw the glorious throne, 
Where the bright Moon doth sit in Majesty ! 
A thousand sparkling stars about her shone, 
But she herself did sparkle more, alone. 

Than all those thousand beauties would have done, 
If they had been confounded all in one. 


And yet she thought those stars moved in such measure, 
To do their Sovereign honour and delight ; 
As soothed her mind, with sweet enchanting pleasure : 
Although the various Change amazed her sight. 
And her weak judgement did entangle quite. 

Besides, their moving made them shine more clear; 

As diamonds moved, more sparkling do appear. 


This was the Picture of her wondrous thought ! 
But who can wonder that her thought was so, 
Sith Vulcan, King of Fire, that Mirror wrought 
(Which things to come, present, and past doth know), 
And there did represent in lively show. 

Our glorious English Court's divine Image, 
As it should be in this our Golden Age ? 

^■! jlint'^illi^ ^ ^ ^ ^^ ^ ■'' ^ ^ ^ ' ^ Poem of Dancing. 55 

[See duplicate cndijig from this point on the next piiges!\ 

Away, Terpsichore ! light Muse, away ] 
And come, Urania! Prophetess divine ! 
Come, Muse of Heaven ! my burning thirst allay ! 
Even now, for want of sacred drink, I pine ! 
In heavenly moisture, dip this pen of mine ! 

And let my mouth with nectar overflow ! 

For I must more than mortal glory show ! 


that I had Homer's abundant vein, 

1 would hereof another Ilias make ! 

Or else the Man of Mantua's charmed brain, 

In whose large throat, great Jove the thunder spake ! 

O that I could old Geoffrey's Muse awake ! 

Or borrow Colin's fair heroic style ! 

Or smooth my rhymes with Delia's servant's file ! 


O could I, sweet Companion ! sing like you ! 

Which of a Shadow, under a shadow sing ! 

Or like fair Salves' sad lover true ! 

Or like the Bay, the marigold's darling, 

Whose sudden verse, Love covers with his wings! 
O that your brains were mingled all with mine, 
T'enlarge my Wit for this great work divine ! 


Yet Astropiiel (might one for all suffice !) 
Whose supple Muse, camelion-like doth change 
Into all forms of excellent device : 
So might the Swallow, whose swift Muse doth range 
Through rare Idcvas and inventions strange; 
And ever doth enjoy her joyful Spring, 
And Sweeter than the Nightingale doth sing ! 

56 Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing. [^;7« 

I'Sir J. Davies. 
une 1594. 


O that I might that singing Swallow hear, 
To whom I owe my service and my love ! 
His sugared tunes v/ould so enchant mine ear, 
And in my mind such sacred fury move, 
As I should knock at heaven's great gate above, 

With my proud rhymes ; while, of this heavenly state, 

I do aspire the Shadow to relate. 


[/« later editions a different endimr of the poem was substituted for the 
above, from after Stanza 126, thus : 

Here are wanting some stanzas describing Queen 

Then follow these : 


Her brighter dazzling beams of Majesty 
Were laid aside : for she vouchsafed awhile 
With gracious, cheerful, and familiar eye, 
Upon the Revels of her Court to smile, 
For so Time's journey she doth oft beguile. 

Like sight no mortal eye might elsewhere see 

So full of State, Art, and variety. 

"jun'^Tj,":] Orchestra, a Poem of DaxXcing. 57 


For of her Barons brave, and Ladies fair 

(Who had they been elsewhere, most fair had been), 

Many an incomparable lovely pair 

With hand-in-hand were interlinked seen. 

Making fair honour to their sovereign Queen : 

Forward they paced, and did their pace apply 
To a most sweet and solemn melody. 


So subtle and curious was the measure 
With such unlooked-for change in every strain. 
As that Penelope rapt with sweet pleasure 
Weened she beheld the true proportion plain 
Of her own web, weaved and unweaved again : 

But that her Art was somewhat less, she thought. 
And on a mere ignoble subject wrought. 


For here, like to the silkworm's industry 

Beauty itself, out of itself did weave 

So rare a work, and of such subtlety, 

As did all eyes entangle and deceive ; 

And in all minds, a strange impression leave. 
In this sweet labyrinth did Cupid stray, 
And never had the power to pass away. 


As when the Indians, neighbours of the Morning, 

In honour of the cheerful rising Sun^ 

With pearl and painted plumes themselves adorning, 

A solemn stately measure have begun ; 

The god well pleased with that fair honour done, 
Sheds forth his beams, and doth their faces kiss 
With that immortal glorious face of his. 

5S Orchestra, a Poem of Dancing Pj'-J-Davi«. 

"• L ? June 1594. 




Master Roger Bodenham. 
Trip to Mexico^ i 564-1 565, a.d. 

[Probably the same man as went to Scio in 1551, see Vol. I. p. 33.] 

[Haki.uyt. Voyagti. 1589,] 

, Roger Bodenham, having lived a long time in the 
city of Seville, in Spain, being there married : and 
by occasion thereof, using trade and traffic to the 
parts of Barbary; I grew, at length, to great loss 
and hinderance by that new trade, begun by me, in 
the city of Fez. 

Whereupon, being returned into Spain, I began to call my 
wits about me, and to consider with myself by what means I 
might recover and renew my state : and, in conclusion, by the 
aid of my friends, I procured a ship, called the bark Fox, 
pertaining to London, of the burden of i6o or i8o tons ; and 
with the same, I made a voyage to West India ; having 
obtained good favour with the Spanish merchants, by reason 
of my long abode and marriage in the country. 

My voyage was in the company of the General {Admiral' 
Don Pedro Melendez, for New Spain: who being himself 
appointed General for Tierra Firma and Peru, made his son 
our General for New Spain; although Pedro Melendez 
himself was the principal man and director in both fleets. 

We all departed from Gales together, the 31st day of May, 
in the year 1564. 

And I, with my ship, being under the conduct of the son of 
Don Pi:dko aforesaid, arrived with him in New Spain ; where, 
immediately, I took order for the discharge of my merchan- 
dise at the port of Vera Gruz, otherwise called Villa Ricca : to 
6e transported thence, to the city of Mexico ; which is seventy 
and odd leagues from the said port of Villa Rica. In the 
way are many good towns, as Pueblo de los Angelos, and 
another called Tlaxcalan. 

The city of Mexico hath three great cause[wa]ys to bring 
men to it: and is compassed with a lake, so that it needeth 

6o Cochineal, 3 s . 4 d . t n e l b . [ ^- 


no walls, being so defended with water. It is a city plenti- 
ful of all necessary things, having many fair houses, churches, 
and monasteries. 

I, having continued in the country the space of nine months, 
returned again to Spain with the Spanish Fleet ; and delivered 
the merchandise and silver which I had in the ship, into 
the Contraction House [at Seville] ; and there received my 
freight, which amounted, outwards and homewards, to the 
value of 13,000 ducats and more [ = about £^,6oo=aboHt 
;£'30,ooo iioza]. 

I observed many things, in the time of my abode in New 
Spain, as well touching the commodities of the country as the 
manners of the people, both Spaniards and Indians ; but 
because the Spanish histories are full of those observations, 
I omit them, and refer the readers to the same. 

Only this I say, that the commodity of cochineal groweth 
in greatest abundance about the town of Pueblo de los 
Angelos ; and is not worth there, above forty pence the pound. 


Mysus et Hoemonia juvenis qui cus- 

pide vulnus senserat^ hac ipsa 

cuspide sen sit opem. 


Printed by the Widow O r w i n, for N. L. and 
John Busby. 



Alii veri iiglioli delle Muse. 

E MODERN Laureates, famotised for your writ, 
Who for your pregnance may in Delos dwell ! 
On your sweet lines, Eternity doth sit ; 
Their brows ennobling with applause and laurel! 
Triumph and Honour aye invest your writ ! 
Yefet[ch] your pens from wing of singing swan^ 
When (sweetly warbling to herself) she floats 
A down Meander streams ; and like to orgaji, 
Imparts, into her quills, melodious notes ! 

Ye, from the Father of delicious phrases. 
Borrow such Hymns as make your Mistress live 
When Time is dead ! Nay, Hermes tunes the praises. 
Which ye, in Sonnets, to your Mistress give! 

Report, throughout our Western Isle doth ring, 
The sweet tuned accents of your Delian sonnetryt 
Which to Apollo's violin, ye sing 1 
O, then, your high strains drown his melody I 

From forth dead sleep of everlasting dark ; 
Fame, with her trump's shrill summon, hath awaked 
The Roman Naso, and the Tuscan PETRARCH, 
Your spirit-ravishing lines to wonder at ! 

O theme befitting high-Mused Astropiiil ! 


Z E P H E k I A , 


He, to yony silvery Songs, lent sweetest touch ! 
Your Songs, the immortal spirit of your quill ! 
O, pardon ! for my artless pen too much 
Doth dim your glories, through his infant skill. 
Though may I not, with you, the spoils divide 
{Ye sacred Offspring of Mnemosyne !) 
Of endless praise, which have your pens achieved 
{Your pens the Trumps to Immortality !) ; 
Yet be it lawful, that like maims I bide ! 
Like brunts and scars, in your Love's u>arfare ! 
And here, though in my homespun Verse, of them declare! 


Z E P H E R I A, 

C A N Z O N I . 

Ulled in a heavenly Charm of pleasinj; 
Passions ; 
Many their well-thewed rhymes do fair 
Unto their Amours! while another fashions 
Love to his lines, and he on Fame doth 
venture ! 
And some again, in mercenary writ, 

Belch forth Desire, makino^ Reward their mistress ! 
And thouj^h it chance some Lais patron it, 

At least, they sell her praises to the press ! 
The Muses' Nurse, I read, is Euphemie; 

And who but Honour makes his lines' reward, 
Comes not, by my consent, within my pedi,<;ree ! 

'Mongst true-born sons, inherit may no bastard ! 
All in the humble accent of my Muse ; 

Whose wing may not aspire the pitch of Fame, 
My griefs I here untomb ! Sweet ! them peruse ! 

Though low he fly, yet Honour is his game, 
All while my pen quests on Zeppiekia's name : 

Whom, when it sprung thy wing, did thee relieve ; 
Now flown to mark, thus doth Desire thecretrieve ! 

ESG. Gar. V. 5 



C A N Z O N 2 . 

Hough be thou limned in these discoloured lines, 
(Delicious Model of my spirit's portrait ! ) 
Though be thou sable pencilled, these designs 
Shadow not beauty, but a sorrow's extract ! 
When I emprised, though in my love's affections, 
The silver lustre of thy brow to unmask ! 
Though hath my Muse hyperbolised trajections ; 
Yet stands it, aye, deficient to such task. 

My slubb'ring pencil casts too gross a matter, 
Thy beauty's pure divinity to blaze ! 
For when my smoothed tongue hath sought to flatter, 
Thy Worth hath dearthed his words, for thy true praise ! 
Then though m}' pencil glance here on thine eyes ; 
Sweet ! think thy Fair, it doth but portionise ! 

C A N Z N 3 . 

Hen, from the tower whence I derive love's heaven, 
Mine eyes (quick pursuivants!) the sight attached 
Of Thee, all splendent ! I, as out of sweaven, 
Myself 'gan rouse, like one from sleep awaked. 
Coveting eyes controlled my slowly gait, 
And wood Desire to wing my feet for flight ; 
Yet unresolved. Fear did with eyes debate, 
And said, " 'Twas but tra[ns]lucence of the light ! " 

But when approached, where Thou thy stand didst take ! 
At gaze, I stood ; like deer, when 'ghast, he spies 
Some white in thick ! Ah, then, the arrow strake 
Through mine heart ! sent from thy tiller eyes. 

Dead in thine aim, Thou seized what 'longed to thee ! 
Mine heart, Zepheria! then, became thy fee! 

Z E P II E R I A . 


C A N Z O N 4. 

Then, Desire ! Father of Jouissance ! 
The Life of Love ! the Death of dastard Fear ! 
The Kindest Nurse to true perseverance ! 
Mine heart inherited, with thy love's revere. 

Beauty ! peculiar Parent of Conceit ! 
Prosperous Midwife to a travelling Muse ! 
The Sweet of life ! Nepenthe's eyes receipt ! 
Thee into me distilled, O Sweet, infuse ! 

Love then (the spirit of a generous sprite ! 
An infant ever drawing Nature's breast ! 
The Sum of Life, that Chaos did unnight !) 
Dismissed mine heart from me, with thee to rest- 

And now incites me cry, " Double ! or quit ! 

Give back my heart, or take his body to it 1 " 

C A N Z O N 5 . 

NON, Fear (Sentinel of sad Discretion ! 
Strangling Repentance in his cradle age! 
Care's Usher ! Tenant to his own Oppression !) 
Forced my thoughts' quest upon an idle rage. 

Enraged Passion (Scout to Love untrue !) 
Commenting glosses on each smile and frown, 
Christening the heavens and Erebus anew, 
(Intolerable yoke to Love and Reason I 

Footstool to all affects! Beauty's sour handmaid ! 
The heart's hermaphrodite, passive in action !) 
Hope now serenes his brow, anon dismayed, 
A pleasing death, a life in pleased distraction. 

Thou on thy Mother, Fear! begot Despair; 

To whom, my Fate conveys me son and heir. 


Z E P H E R I A . 

C AN Z O N 6. 

Y FATE ! O not my fault ! hath me debarred 
From forth thy favour's sunny sanctuary, 
Unto the dear applause of thy regard, 
Witness the world ! how I, my guest did marry ! 

My tears, my sighs ; all have I summed in thee ! 
Conceit the total ! do not partialise 1 
And then accept of their infinity 
As part of payment to exacting eyes ! 

And yet thy Trophy to ennoble more, 
My heart prepares anew to thesaurise 
Sighs and love options such as it sent of yore, 
Save number they ! faith only these englories ! 

Yet though I thus enwealthy thy exchequer ; 

Seem it not strange, I live Zepheria's debtor ! 


Ore fair, but yet more cruel I thee deem 
(Though by how much the more thou beauteous art, 
So much of pity shouldst thou more esteem 1) ; 
Fairer than Phcebe, yet a harder heart. 

Her when Actceon viewed with privy eye, 
She doomed him but a death (a death he owed !), 
While he pursued, before his dogs did fly. 
Here was the worst of ill (good Queen !) she shewed. 

But when, a start, mine eye had thee espied 
Though at discovert, yet stand I sentenced 
Not to one death, to which I would have hied : 
For since, unarmed, and to eye unfenced, 
Thy FHCEBE-fairer parts were mine eyes' prospective. 

O grief! unto myself, disgraced I live! 

■,594] Z E P II E R I A . 69 

C AN Z O N 8. 

Lluminating Lamps ! Ye Orbs chrystallite ! 
Transparent mirrolds ! Globes divining beauty ! 
] How have I joyed to wanton in your light ? 

Though was I slain by your artillery ! 
Ye blithsome Stars ! like Leda's lovely twins 
(When clear they twinkle in the firmament), 
Promise espcrance to the seamen's wand'rings : 
So have your shine made ripe mine heart's content. 

Or as the light, which Sestyan Hero showed, 
Arm-iinned Leander to direct in waves, 
When through the raging Hellespont he rowed, 
Steering to Love's Port : so, by thine eyes' clear rays, 
Blest were my waves ! But since no light was found, 
Thy poor Leander in the deep is drowned ! 


Hen as the Golden Waggoner had frayed 
Black Winter's outrage, with his brighter shine ; 
And that in Mansion of the Twins he styed, 
His team ; then 'gan my heart to twine with thine ! 
Even when his gorgeous mantle he had spread. 
Wherewith he wiped wept-tears from Tellus' bosom ; 
Wantoning here with her, leaves Thetis' bed, 
Like dainty midwife Flora, to unwomb 

Sweet babes of Tellus and PIyperion, 
When ye full soomed in Winter's mew doon mooting, 
O then, the seeds of Love, by thine eyes sown, 
Down through mine eyes, within mine heart took rooting. 
This difference left 'twixt me and Nature's store ; 
Her Spring returns ! My flower may spread no more ! 

Z E P II E R I A . 


? 1594- 

C A N Z O N 10 . 

Ow made I, then, attempt in courtly fashion, 
To gain the virgin conquest of thy love ? 
How did my sighs decipher inward Passion, 
When they to kind regard thy heart did move ? 
When thou vouchsaf'st to grace the evening air, 
How have I lain in ambush to betray thee ? 
Our eyes have skirmished ! but my tongue would pray thee 
To join thy Pity partner with thy Fair ! 

Since that, how often have they sent wept Elegies 
To beg remorse at thy obdurate heart ! 
How often hath my Muse in comic poesies, 
'I'o feed thy humour, played a comic part ! 

But, now, the Pastime of my pen is silenced ! 
To act in Tragic Vein, alone is licensed. 

C A N Z O N II. 

Ow wert thou pleased with my Pastoral Ode ! 
Which late I sent thee; wherein I, thy Swain, 
In rural tune, on pipe did chaunt abroad 
Thee, for the loveliest Lass that traced the plain. 
There, on thy head, I, Flora's Chaplet placed ! 
There, did my pipe proclaim thee. Summer's Queen ! 
I'^ach herdgroom, with that honour held thee graced ! 
When lawny white did chequer with thy green. 

There, did I bargain all my kids to thee ! 
My spotted lambkins, choicest of my fold ! 
So thou would'st sit and keep thy flock by miC: 
So much I joyed, thy beauty to behold. 

How many Cantons then, sent I to thee ! 
Who, though on two strings only raised their strain, 
To wit, my Grief, and thy unmatched Beauty; 
Yet well their harmony could please thy vein ! 

Well could they please thee, and thou term them witty ; 
But now as fortunes change, so change my Ditty ! 

• 1 


Z E P H E R I A . 


C AN ZO N 12. 

'Ow often have mine eyes (thine eye's apprentice 
Bound by the Earnest of a sunny look), 
Ta'en a judicial view of all thy graces ! 
Which here are registered in lasting book. 
How oft have I, thy precious chain been fingering, 
That ninefold circles thy delicious neck ! 
While they, the orb-like spheres of heaven resembling, 
Thy face the Globe ! which men clep Emperick. 

How oft with wanton touches have I prest 
Those breasts, more soft than silver down of swans ; 
When they by Alcidelian springs do rest ! 
Of which pure substance are thy lily hands. 

But now, though eyes ne see, nor arms embrace thee ; 
Who yet shall let, in thought, me chief to place thee ? 

C A N Z O N 13. 

RouD in thy love, how many have I cited. 
Impartial, thee to view ! whose eye^ have lavished 
Sweet beauteous objects oft have men delighted, 
But thou, above delight, their sense hast ravished ! 
They, amorous artists. Thee pronounced Love's Queen ! 
And unto thy supremacy did swear, 
" Venus, at Paphos keep ! no more be seen ! " 
Now Cupid, after Thee, his shafts shall bear 1 

How have I spent my spirit of Invention 
In penning amorous stanzas to thy beauty ? 
But heavenly graces may not brook dimension ; 
No more may thine ! for infinite they be. 
But now, in harsh tune, I, of amour? sing, 
My pipe for them, grows hoarse ! but shrill, to plaining ! 


Z E P II E R I A . 

C A N Z O N 14. 

Hoi'GU like an exile from mine eyes divorced 
In solitary dungeon of Refuse 
I live, impatient that I live, perforced. 
From thee, dear object of mine eyes, a recluse. 
Yet that divine Idea of thy grace, 
The life imagery of thy love's sweet souvenance, 
Within mine heart shall reign in sovereign place ; 
Nay, shall it ever portray other semblance ? 

No ! never shall that face, so fair depainted 
Within the love-limned tablet of mine heart, 
Emblemished be ! defaced ! or unsainted ! 
Till death shall blot it, with his pencil dart. 
Yet, then, in these limned lines ennobled more, 
Thou shall survive, richer accomplished than before ! 

C AN ZO N 15. 

E'er were the silvery wings of my Desire 
Tainted with thought of black impurity ! 
The modest blush that did my cheeks attire. 
Was to thy virgin fears, statute security ! 
When to a favour's sweet promotion 
My joyless thoughts, thou hast advanced higher ! 

then sigh's sacrifice of my love's devotion 

1 sent, repurified in holy fire ! 

My fears, how oft have I ingeminated ! 
(0 black recite of passed misery !) 
Thy heart for to entender ! they have intimated 
(Hesides what thou hast seen !) what I have suffered for thee ! 
But see ! since eyes were aliens to thy beauty, 
I sing mine own faith, and neglect love's duty ! 

Z E P 11 E R I A . 

C A N Z O N I 6 . 

Ow have I forfeited thy kind regard, 
That thy disdain should thus enage thy brow ! 
Which, whilom, was the scripture and the card 
Whereon thou made thy game, and sealed thy vow 
Which, whilom, thou, with laurel vatical, 
Ennobled hast (high signal of renown !), 
Marrying my voice with thine, hast said withal, 
" Be thou alone, alonely thou, Amphion ! " 

O how hath black night welked up this day ' 
My wasted hopes, why are they turned to graze 
In pastures of despair? Zepheria say, 
Wherein have I, on love committed trespass ! 
O, if in justice, thou must needs acquit me, 
Reward me with thy love ! Sweet, heal me with thy pit} 

C AN ZO N 17. 

Ow shall 1 deck my Love in love's habiliment, 
And her embellish in a right depaint ? 
Sith now is left, nor rose, nor hyacinth, 
Each one their beauties with their hue acquaint. 

The gold ceiling of thy brow's rich frame 
Designs the proud pomp of thy face's architure. 
Crystal transparent casements to the same. 
Are thine eyes' sun, which do the world depure ; 

Whose silvery canopy, gold-wire fringes. 
Thy brow, the bowling place for Cupid's eye. 
Love's true-love knots, and lily-lozenges, 
Thy cheeks, depainten in an immortal dye. 

If well, thou limned art, now, by face imagery ; 

Judge, how, by life, I then should pencil thee ! 

74 Z E P II E R I A. [ J \^^^ 

C AN Z N I 8. 

Xacter, should it fortune I should pencil thee ; 
What glory may attend though on my skill ? 
Even such as him befalls, whose pen doth copy 
The sweet invention of another's quill. 

My Muse yet never journeyed to the Indes, 
Thy Fair to purple in Alchymerean dye, 
All on the weak spread of his eyes' wings 
Sufficeth that thou mount, though not so high ! 

Yet should it hap, that, in a kind vouchsafe. 
The feature of my pen some grace do win ; 
Thereof, Zepheria all the honour hath ! 
The copying scribe may claim no right therein : 

But if more nice wits censure my lines crooked. 

Thus I excuse, " I wrote, my light removed ! " 

C A N Z N 19. 

1^0 ! NO, Zepheria ! Fame is too rich a prize. 
My all-unmeriting lines for to attend on ! 
The best applause of my Muse, on thine eyes 
Depends ! It craves but smiles, his pains to 
guerdon ! 
But thine, the glory of this weak emprise ! 
Well wot I, his demerit is but bare ! 
Duteous respect then, will not that I portionise 
To me, in love's respect, equal like care. 

Lovely respective ! equal thou this care ! 
And with thine heaven's calm smiles, mine heart imparadise ! 
Shine forth thy comfort's sun, my fears' Dismayer ! 
O well it fits lovers to sympathise ! 

Hold thou the spoils of Fame, for thine inheritance! 
Thy love, to me is sweetest chcvisancc ! 

• 1 

Z E P II E R I A . 




Ow often hath my pen (mine heart's Solicitor !) 
Instructed thee in Breviat of my case ! 
While Fancy-pleading eyes (thy beauty's Visitor !) 
Have patterned to my quill, an angel's face. 
How have my Sonnets (faithful Counsellors !) 
Thee, without ceasing moved for Day of Hearing ! 
While they, my Plaintive Cause (my faith's Revealers !) 
Thy long delay, my patience, in thine ear ring. 

How have I stood at bar of thine own conscience ; 
When in Requesting Court my suit I brought ! 
How have thy long adjournments slowed the sentence, 
Which I (through much expense of tears) besought! 
Through many difficulties have I run. 
Ah, sooner wert thou lost, I wis, than won ! 


Nd is it by immutable Decree 
(Immutable, yet cruel Ordnance !) 
Ordained (still forced, I cry, " O strange impiety ! ") 
On True Love, to impose such tyrant penance ? 

That We, unto each other shall surrender 
The sealed indentures of our love compacted ; 
And that thereof we make such loyal tender 
As best shall seem to them that so enacted ! 

Then list, while I advertise once again, 
" Though we yield up our charters so ensealed : 
Yet see that thou safeguard my counterpane ! 
And I, in heart, shall keep thy bond uncancelled ; 

And so hereafter (if, at least, you please !) 

We'll plead this Redelivery was by duress ! " 


Z E P n E R I A . 


C AN Z N 22. 

T WAS not long ago, since, like a wanton, 
Froward, displeased with that it loves, I wis, 
Improved, I did write to thee, a Canton, 
Wherein I seemed to turn Love out of service. 

Well said I herein, that I did but " seem " it ! 
Loath to depart, he still retained to me ; 
Although displeased, yet each one well might deem, 
He was my servant, while he wore my livery ! 

Pensively grieved with that, that I had done, 
I wrote a Sonnet, which, by syllable. 
Eat up the former, and withal craved pardon ; 
Vowing a large amends, as time should able. 

" But who beyond his power vows, offends ! 

Presumptuous as thou art ! to name Amends." 

C A N ZO N 23. 

Hy coral-coloured lips, how should I portray 
Unto the unmatchable pattern of their sweet ! 
A draught of blessedness I stole away 
From them, when last I kissed. I taste it yet ! 

So did that sug'ry touch my lips ensucket. 
On them, Minerva's honey birds do hive 

Mellifluous words; when so thou please to frame 

Thy speech to entertainment ! Thence I derive 

My heart's sole paradise, and my lips sweet game. 
Ye are the coral gates of Temple's clarion, 

Whereout the Pythius preached divinity ! 

Unto thy voice bequeathed the good Arion, 

His silvery lyre ! Such Pcean melody 
Thy voice, the organ pipe of angels quire 
Trebles ! Yet, one kiss; and Fll raise them higher ! 

■1594J ZEP/fEKIA, yj 

C AN ZO N 24. 

Nto the Muses, I resign my scroll, 

Who sing with voice unto the spheres proportionable. 

Sing ye ! O write ye of m}' love's pure soul ! 

Unbody it, in words inimitable ! 

In high sphere, then, see ye her name enrolled ! 

On her heart throne, sits the divine Astr.ea; 

Who doth the balance of her favours hold, 

Which she imparts in justice and demerit. 

For virgin purity, white Galatea 

Doth type the sanctity of her purer spirit. 

Sli€, the fourth Grace, height Pasith.e a. 

Only recorded by our first born son ; 

Whom after long sleep, we shall now untomb 

And her translate into Zepheria. 

Amidst the Charites, possess thy room ! 

Thalia in heart, zealous Urania; 

The soul's musician, sweet Thelxione; 

Daughter of Love and Admiration ! 

A veil immortal shall we put on thee. 

And on thy head instar the Gnosian Crown ! 

Ariadne doth herself undeify. 

Yielding her coronal to thine installation ! 

Now live in starry stage of heaven, a deity ! 

And sing we, I<a Zepheria ! all in a rown. 

" Hold ! take thy scroll ! With wing of immortality, 
Thy Love is clad ! Nay, ought may her unsanctify, 
But proud Disdain ! " Thanks, sweet Calliope ! 


Z E r II E R I A . 


L ? 159 

Et not Disdain, thy soul unsanctify ! 

Disdain, the passport for a lover's vow ! 

Unsieging, where its seeks to fortify 

With deadly frowns, the canons of the brow ! 

Let not Disdain (the Hearse of virgin Graces ! 
The Counterpoison to unchastity ! 
The Leaven that doth sour the sweetest faces!) 
Stain thy new purchased immortality ! 

'Mongst Delian nymphs, in Angels' University, 
Thou, my Zepheria, liv'st matriculated 1 
The daughters of ethereal Jove, thy deity 
On holy hill, have aye perpetuated! 

O then, retire thy brows' artillery! 

Love more ! and more bliss yet, shall honour thee ! 


Hen we, in kind embracements, had agreed 
To keep a royal banquet on our lips ; 
How soon, have we another feast decreed ! 
And how, at parting, have we mourned by fits ! 
Eftsoons, in absence, have we wailed much more, 
Till those void hours of intermission 
Were spent ! That we might revel as before, 
How have we bribed Time for expedition ! 

And when remitted to our former love-plays ; 
How have we, overweening in delight, 
Accused the Father Sexton of the days 
That, then, with eagle's wings, he took his flight ! 
But now. Old Man ! fly on, as swift as thought ! 
Sith eyes from love, and hope from heart is wrought. 

Z E r ir E R I A . 


C A N Z O N 


E'er from a lofty pitch, hath made more speed, 
The feather-saihng Falcon to the lure ; 
II Nor fairer stooped, when he on fist would feed, 

Than I, Zepheria ! to thine eyes allure ! 
Ne'er from the deep, when winds declare a tempest, 
Posts with more haste the little Halcion, 
Nor faster hies him to some safer rest ; 
Than I have fled, from thy death-threatening frown ! 
Ne'er did the sun's love-mate, the gold Hetropion 
Smile more resplendent lustre on her Dear! 
Nay, ever was his shine to her more welcome, 
Than thine to me, when smiling was thy cheer ! 
But now, my sun ! it fits thou take thy set ! 
And veil thy face with frowns, as with a frontlet ! 


Hen clear hath been thy brow, and free from wrinkle, 
(Thy smoothed brow, my soul's sole hierarchy !) 
When sweetly hath appeared in cheek the dimple. 
There Love enthroned sways powerful monarchy 1 

Glad have I, then, rich statues to his deity 
Erected. Then, have I his altar hallowed ! 
His rights, I held, with high solemnity ! 
His Trophy decked, and it with rosebuds strewed ! 

I kissed thy cheek ! Then thou, with gold artillery. 
Hast him engirt, tasselled with purple twine, 
(Featly contrived to hang his quiver by) 
Besides a crimson scarf to veil his eyne : 

But, see ! No sooner was he gay apparelled. 

But that, false Boy ! away from us he fled ! 


Z E P n E R I A . 

? '594- 


Ow many golden days ! have I set free 
From tedious travail in a sadder Muse, 
While I, of amours have conferred with thee ! 
While I, long absence never need excuse ! 

Sweet was Occasion ! and for sweet inexplicable, 
That eyes' invited guests unto thine eyes' fare ; 
When, by thy dainty leave, on coral table 
I fed ! there, I sucked celestial air ! 

Amidst these sug'ry junkets thirsty, I 
Have thy delicious hand, with my lips pressed ! 
I drew for wine, but found 'twas Ambrosie : 
O how my spirits inly that refreshed ! 

Yet, ay me ! since I relished this delight ; 

I e'er more thirsted with a hotter appetite ! 


Hat ! Shall I ne'er more see those Halcion days ! 

Those sunny Sabbaths ! Days of Jubilee ! 
\ Wherein I carrolled merry Roundelays, 
Odes, and Love Songs? which, being viewed by thee. 
Received allowance worthy better writ ! 
When we, on Shepherds' Holy Days have hied 
Down to the flow'ry pastures (flowers, for thy treading fit ! ) 
Holy the day, when thou it sanctified ! 

When thou, Zepheria, wouldst but deign to bless it. 
How have I, jealous over Phcebus' rays, 
Clouded thy Fair ! Then, fearing he would guess it 
By thy white brow, it have I cinct' with bays ! 
But, woe is me ! that I have fenced thy beauty ! 
Sith other must enjoy it, and not I. 


Z E P 11 E R I A . 


C A N Z N 31. 

Et none shall equal me in my demerit, 
Though happier (may it fortune) he may court it ! 
Nor shall more faithful love his suit inherit ! 
Ne paint like Passion, though he shew more Wit ! 
Admit, he write ! My quill hath done as much ! 
Admit, he sigh ! That have I done, and more ! 
Admit, he weep ! These eyes have wept even such : 
Their tears, as hearty ; and in greater store ! 

Yet, nearer may he press, and swear " He dies ! " 
Jove (thinks he) smiles at lovers' jurament : 
Prove him ! Then shalt thou find he falsely lies ! 
Many so threaten death, that nil experiment ! 
Repulsed, then will he sue to do thee service 1 
Said not I well now, that " he falsely lies 1 " 

C A N 2 N 32. 
Ature, I find, dolh, once a year, hold market! 

J A gaudy fair of hrooches and of habies ; 
B^^i^^yj And bounteously to all doth She impart it, 
Yet chielly to true Lovers, and fair Ladies. 

There, may you see her dappart Com'nalty 
Clad, some in purple, some in scarlet dye ; 
Whiles she (rich Queen !), in all her royalty, 
Commands them spread their chaffer to the eye. 

The buyer pays no impost, nor no fees; 
But rather to invite with wealthier pleasure, 
She booths her fair with shade of broad-branched tree??, 
Wherein (good Queen ! ) her care doth match her treasure. 

With wealth of more cost. Nature doth Thee beautify ! 

Save, careless, she hath left no shelter 'gainst thine eye ! 
KXG. Gar. V. 6 


Z E r H E R I A , 


lTHER,chaste Phcebe's Nymphs flocked in procession, 
Whose beauties attractive all eyes so exercised 
With mazed-admire, that, for some late transgression, 
Men weened heaven's anjj^els were unparadised. 
Such saints, heaven's paradise contains but few. 
Their roseate beauties, Nature's wealth distained ; 
Compared their lustre, checked her verdant hue, 
They even her purest quintessence engrained. 

Anemone there stood with Daffodilly ! 
The purple Hyacinth, and the musk Rose ! 
Red Amaranthus, and the milk-bred Lily ! 
I came in quest ; yet would I none of those ! 
Unto Hyperion's bride, my choice I knit ! 
There, in her goldy leaves, my love is writ ! 


Inch from the full feed of thy favour's lease, 
My thoughts (O Time's accursed memory !) 
Were forced (such shift, alas, did ill them please !) 
To crop on sedge sour and unsavoury ; 
Since from their sweet refresh, all pined, they 
Have spent a lustre in sad widowhood ; 
Since when Sorrow to them hath served in pay, 
Outlaws to Hope, immured from every good ; 
Since from thy brow, the pompous gallery 
Wherein were storised to mine eye, sweet objects, 
Embroidered all with rare imagery ; 
Whose ivory floor enamelled azure frets : 

Mine eye (O woe the while !) hath been sequestered ! 
My heart, his grief therefore, in face hath registered. 

Z E r 11 E R 1 

A . 

C A N Z O N 


Ince from the flowered sweets of every blensedness, 
Which from thy beauties delicate peruse 
I Incessantly doth flow, mine heart, like anch'ress 
Aye cloistered, lives to sad and cheerless iMus,-. 
If any smiling joy fortune to fawn on me, 
Suggesting to my spirit sweet content : 
Anon, I article with his felicity ; 
And ere mine heart vouchsafes him entertainment, 

I him depose, on these Interrogatories. 
First, *' If he came from my Zepheria ? " 
Then, " If he may to light restore mine eyes, 
Which long have dwelt in dark ? " If then, he say, 
" Nay ! but thy thoughts to unbend from off her beauties, 
I come ! " eftsoons, I strangle him while in his infancy. 
Better slay him, than he do thee to die ! 

C A N Z O N 36. 

Ft if, with error and unjust suspect, 
'i'hou shalt the burden of my grievance aggravate ! 
Laying unto my charge thy love's neglect 
(A load which patience cannot tolerate !) 
First, to be Atlas to my own Desire, 
Then, to depress me with unkind construction j 
While to mine own griefs may I scarce respire : 
This is to heap Ossa on Pelion ! 

O would the reach yet of unequal censure 
Might here but date his partiality ; 

Z E P H E R I A . [, -,53^, 

Mistrust (who ne'er is ripe, till worst be thought on) 
Hath my crime racked, yet to more high extensure. 

And now 'tis drawn to flat Apostasy 
(So straight beset ; best, I lay hold on pardon !) 
Why then, sith better i'st a penitentiary 
To save, than to expose to shame's confusion. 
Thy face being veiled, this penance I award, 
" Clad in a white sheet, thou stand in Paul's Church- 
yard ! " 

C A N Z O N 37. 

Hen last mine eyes dislodged from thy beauty, 
Though served with Process of a parent's Writ 
I A Supersedeas countermanding duty, 

Even then, I saw upon thy smiles to sit ! 
Those smiles which me invited to a Party, 
Disperpling clouds of faint respecting fear ; 
Against the Summons which was served on me, 
A larger privilege of dispense did bear. 

Thine eyes' edict, the Statute of Repeal, 
Doth other duties wholly abrogate, 
Save such as thee endear in hearty zeal, 
Then be it far from me, that I should derogate 
From Nature's Law, enregistered in thee 1 
So might my love incur a Prcenmnire. 


? 15J4- 



C A N Z O N 38. 

Rom the revenue of thine e3'es' Exchequer, 
My faith, his Subsidy did ne'er detract ! 
Though in thy favour's book, I rest a debtor ; 
Yet, 'mongst accountants who their faith have crackt, 
My name thou findest not irrotulate ! 
I list not stand indebted to infame ; 
(Foul them befall who pay in counterfeit ! 
Be they recognised in black Book of Shame !) 
But if the Rent, which wont was of assize, 
Thou shalt enhance, through pride and coy disdain ! 
Exacting double tribute to thine eyes ; 
And yet encroachest on my heart's domain : 
Needs must I wish (though 'gainst my foyaity), 
That thou unsceptered be of Nature's royalty ! 

C A N Z O N 39. 

Nd now, thou winged Ambassador of Wonder! 
Liberal dispenser of reproachful act ! 
Who never whisperest, but in a voice of thunder ! 
Explor'st what secrecy would fain have daikcd ! 
" Tell my Zepheria ! (sith thou nill be silenced !) 
My hopes on her calm smiles did them embark ; 
Whose sunny shine seemed to have licensed 
From them, all fear of tempest, or of wreck. 

Now, on the shelf of her brows' proud disdain, 
A harbour, where they looked for asile, 
The pilot who, 'fore now, did expect rain, 
His bark in seas are all ydrenched, alack the while ! 
Till if, at last, she all, through fear, excordiate, 
Command thee not to peace, ere thou exordiate ! " 


Z E P H E R I A , 



C A N Z O N 40. 

Ut if She shall attend what fortunes sequelled 
The naufrage of my poor afflicted bark ; 
Then tell, but tell in words unsyllabled ! 
In sighs' untuned accents, move her to hark 
Unto the tenour of thy sadder process ! 
Say then, " His tears (his heart's intelligencers !) 
Did intimate the griefs did him possess. 
Crying, Zepheria, unto thee ! these messengers 

I send ! O these, my loves, my faith shall witness ! 
O these shall record loves and faith unfeigned ! 
Look how my soul bathes in their innocency ! 
Whose dying confidence him designs unstained 
Of guilty blush-note of impurity. 

(O Death ! Highway to Life, when Love is distained !) " 
This said, if cruel She, no grace vouchsafe : 
Dead, may her Gravestone be her Epitaph ! 

Troppo spcray inganna. 

A Gentleman in the Voyage. 

Sir John Ha wkins^s Second 

Voyage to the West htdies ; 

i8t/i Oct,, 1564 — 20t/i Sept,^ 1565. 

[Hakluvt. I'ojtt^'ts. 15S9.] 

[There are six stages in this Voyage : 


18 Oct.— 29 Nov. 1564. Plymouth, to Cape de Verde ... />/>. 88 — 93 
29 Nov. 1564 — 19 Jan. 1565. Along the Guinea coast ... f>p. 93 — 102 

19 Jan. — 9 March 1565. Guinea coast to the W. I p. 102 

9 Mar. — 31 May 1565. Along the North coast of South 

America, to Rio de la Hacha ... pp. 102 — 118 

31 May — 28 July 1565. Rio de la Hacha, to River of May, 

Florida ;5i/>. 1 18— 135 

28 July — 20 Sept. 1565. Florida, to Padstow in Cornwall pp. 135 — 136] 

The Voyage made by the Worshipful Master John Hawkins, 
Esquire, now Knight; Captain of the Jesus of Lubeck, 
one of Her Majesty's ships: and General [Admiral] of 
the Solomon, and other two [vesselsj barks, going in his 
company to the coast of Guinea, and the Indies of New 
Spain; being in Africa and America. Began in Anno 
Domini, 1564. 

The names of certain Gentlemen that were in this Voyage. 

Master John Hawkins. 

Master John Chester, Sir William 

Chester's son. 

Master Anthony Parkhurst. 

Master F i T z w i l L i a m. 

Master Thomas W o o r l e y. 

Master Edward Lacie. With divers others. 

88 Departure of the Second Expedition, [ , '.g.. 

*.• Tlic Rc^qisiey [i.e., the Log of the various dates] and 
true accounts of all herein expressed hath been approved by vie, 
John Sparke tJi; younger ; who went upon the same Voyage, 
and wrote the saute [i.e., kept a journal of these transactionsj. 

Ith the Jesus of Lubeck, a ship of 700 tons ; and the 
Solomon, a ship of 140 ; the Tiger, a bark of 50 ; 
and the Swalloiv, of 50 tons ; being all well fur- 
nished with men to the number of 170, as also 
with ordnance and victuals requisite for such a 
Voyage ; Master John Hawkins departed out of Plymouth, 
the i8th day of October, in the year of our Lord 1564, with 
a prosperous wind. 

At which departing, in cutting of the foresail, a marvellous 
misfortune happened to one of the Officers in the ship ; who 
by the pulley of the sheet, was slain out of hand : being a 
sorrowful bej^inning to them all. 

And after their setting out ten leagues to the sea, he met, 
the same day, with the Minion, a ship of the Queen's Majesty, 
whereof was Captain David Carlet, and also her consort, 
the Jolm Baptist of London ; being bound to Guinea also : 
who hailed one the other, after the custom of the sea, with 
certain pieces of ordnance, for joy of their meeting. Which 
done, the Minion departed from him, to seek her other con- 
sort, the Merlin of London, which was astern, out of sight ; 
leaving in Master Hawkins's company, the John Baptist, her 
other consort. 

Thus sailing forwards on their way, with a prosperous 
wind, until the 21st of the same month ; at that time, a great 
storm arose, the wind being at north-east, about nine o'clock 
in the night, and so continued twenty-three hours together. 
In which storm. Master Hawkins lost the company of the 
John Baptist aforesaid, and of his pinnace called the Swallow : 
his other three ships being sore beaten with the storm. 

The 23rd da\', the Swalloiv, to his no small rejoicing, came 
to him again in the night, ten leagues to the northward 
of Cape Finisterre : he having put i^oomer {gone out to sea] ; 
not being able to double the Cape, in that there rose a 
contrary wind at south-west. 

The 25th, the wind continuing contrary, he put into a 

, i-cj.] AND ITS Sailing Orders. 89 

place in Galicia, called Ferrol ; where he remained five days, 
and appointed all the Masters of his ships an Order for keep- 
ing of good company, in this manner. 

The small ships to be always ahead and aweather ol 
the Jesus : and to speak, twice a day, with the Jesus at 

If in the day, the ensign to be over the poop of the 
Jesus ) or in the night, two lights: then shall all the 
ships speak with her. 

If there be three lights aboard the Jesus, then doth 
she cast about. 

If the weather be extreme, that the small ships 
cannot keep company with the Jesus, then all to keep 
company with the Solomon : and forthwith to repair to 
the island of Teneriffe, to the northward of the road of 

If any happen to any misfortune ; then to shew two 
lights, and to shoot off a piece of ordnance. 

If any lose company, and come in sight again ; to 
make three yaws [? veerings of the ship] and strike [lower] 
the misen [i.e., the misen sail] three times. 

Serve GOD daily! [i.e., have daily prayers], love one 
another ! preserve your victuals ! beware of fire ! and 
keep good company [i.e., of the fleet together]. 

The 26th day, the Minion came in also, where he was : for 
tlie rejoicing whereof, he gave them [volleys from] certain 
pieces of ordnance, after the courtesy of the sea, for their wel- 
come. But the Minion's men had no mirth, because of their 
consort, the Merlin : which, after their departure from Master 
Hawkins upon the coast of England, they went to seek ; and 
having met with her, kept company two days together. At 
last, by the misfortune of fire, through the negligence of one 
of their Gunners, the powder in the Gunner's Room was set 
on fire : which, with the first blast, struck out her poop, and 
therewithal lost three men : besides many sore burned, which 
escaped by the brigantine [iiC., the Minion ; apparently the 
ship of the same name in the Third Voyage] being at her stern : 
and, immediately, to the great loss of the owners, and most 
horrible sight to the beholders, she sank before their, eyes. 

The 30th day of the month, Master Hawkins, with his 

90 Arrival at T e \ e r i f f e, and [ , • .g^. 

consorts, and [the] company of the Minion ; [ihe Jesus] having 
now both the brigantines [the Solomon and the Minion] 
at her stern, weighed anchor, and set sail on her voyage ; 
having a prosperous wind thereunto. 

The 4th of November, they had sight of the island of 
Madeira ; and the 6th day, of Teneriffe, which they thought 
to have been the [Grand] Canary, in that they supposed 
themselves to have been to the eastward of Teneriffe ; and 
were not. But the Minion, being three or four leagues 
ahead of us, kept on her course to Teneriffe ; having a better 
sight thereof, than the others had: and by that means, they 
parted company. 

For Master Hawkins and his company went more to the 
West. Upon which course, having sailed a while, he espied 
another island, which he thought to be Teneriffe : and being 
not able, by means of the fog upon the hills, to discern the 
same, nor yet to fetch it by night ; he went roomer until 
the morning, being the 7th of November. Which, as yet, he 
could not discern, but sailed along the coast the space of 
two hours, to perceive some certain mark of Teneriffe ; and 
found no likelihood thereof at all, accounting that to be (as it 
was indeed) the isle of Palms [Palmas]. 

So sailing forwards, he espied another island called Gomera; 
and also Teneriffe, with which he made : and, sailing all 
night, came in the morning, the next day, to the port of 
Adecia ; where he found his pinnace, which had departed 
[separated] from him the 6th of the month, being in the 
weather of him, and espying the Pike of Teneriffe all a high, 
bare thither. 

At his arrival, somewhat before he came to anchor, he 
hoisted out his ship's pinnace, rowing ashore ; intending to 
have sent one with a letter to Peter de Ponte, one of 
the Governors of the island, who dwelt a league from the 
shore : but as he pretended [intended] to have landed, sud- 
denly there appeared upon the two points of the road, men 
levelling of bases and harquebusses to them, with divers 
others with halberts, pikes, swords, and targets, to the 
number of four score : which happened so contrary to his 
expectation, that it did greatly amaze him ; and the more, 
because he was now in their danger, not knowing well how 
to avoid it without some mischief.^ 


Wherefore, he determined to call to them, for the better 
appeasing of the matter ; declaring his name, and professing 
himself to be an especial friend to Peter de Ponte, and 
that he had sundry things for him, which he greatly desired : 
and in the meantime, while he was thus talking with them 
(whereby he made them to hold their hands) he willed the 
mariners to row away ; so that, at last, he gat out of their 
danger. And then asking for Peter de Ponte ; one of his 
sons, being Senor Nicholas de Ponte, came forth : whom, 
he perceiving, desired "to put his men aside, and he himself 
would leap ashore, and commune with him," which they did. 
So that after communication had between them, of sundry 
things, and of the fear they both had : Master Hawkins 
desired to have certain necessaries provided for him. 

In the mean space, while these things were providing, he 
trimmed the mainmast of the Jesus, which, in the storm 
aforesaid, was sprung. Here he sojourned seven days, re- 
freshing himself and his men. In the which time, Peter de 
Ponte, dwelling at Santa Cruz, a city twenty leagues off, 
came to him ; and gave him as gentle entertainment, as if 
he had been his own brother. 

To speak somewhat of these islands, being called, in old 
time, Insulce fortuncB, by the means of the flourishing thereof. 
The fruitfulness of them doth surely exceed far all other that 
I have heard of. For they make wine better than any in 
Spain : and they have grapes of such bigness that they may 
be compared to damsons, and in taste inferior to none. For 
sugar, suckets [sweetmeats^, raisons of the sun [our present 
raisins], and many other fruits, abundance: for rosin, and 
raw silk, there is great store. They want neither corn, pul- 
lets, cattle, nor yet wild fowl. 

They have many camels also: which, being young, are 
eaten of the people for victuals ; and being old, they are 
used for carriage of necessities. Whose property is, as he is 
taught, to kneel at the taking of his load, and the unlading 
again ; of understanding very good, but of shape very de- 
formed ; with a little belly; long misshapen legs; and feet 
very broad of flesh, without a hoof, all whole saving the great 
toe ; a back bearing up like a molehill, a large and thin neck, 
with a little head, with a bunch of hard flesh which Nature 
hath given him in his breast to lean upon. This beast liveth 

92 The vanishing islands! [, 


hardly, and is contented with straw and stubble ; but of strong 
force, being well able to carry five hundredweight. 

In one of these islands called Ferro, there is, by the reports 
of the inhabitants, a certain tree which raineth continually ; 
by the dropping whereof, the inhabitants and cattle are satis- 
fied with water : for other water have they none in all the island. 
And it raineth in such abundance that it were incredible unto 
a man to believe such a virtue to be in a tree ; but it is known 
to be a Divine matter, and a thing ordained by GOD : at 
whose power therein, we ought not to marvel, seeing He 
did, by His Providence (as we read in the Scriptures) when 
the Children of Israel were going into the Land of Promise, 
fed them with manna from heaven, for the space of forty 
years. Of these trees aforesaid, we saw in Guinea many ; 
being of great height, dropping continually; but not so 
abundantly as the other, because the leaves are narrower, 
and are like the leaves of a pear tree. 

About these islands are certain flitting islands, which have 
been oftentimes seen ; and when men approach near them, 
they vanished : as the like hath been of these now known (by 
the report of the inhabitants), which were not found but of along 
time, oneafter the other; and, therefore, itshould seem he isnot 
yet born, to whom GOD hath appointed the finding of them. 

In this island of Teneriffe, there is a hill called the Pike, 
because it is piked ; which is, in height, by their report, 
twenty leagues : having, both winter and summer, abundance 
of snow on the top of it. This Pike may be seen, in a clear 
day, fifty leagues off; but it sheweth as though it were a black 
cloud [at] a great height in the Element [atmosphere], I have 
heard of none to be compared with this in height ; but in 
the [West] Indies I have seen many, and, in my judgement, 
not inferior to the Pike : and so the Spaniards write. 

The 15th of November, at night, we departed from Tene- 
riffe ; and the 20th of the same, we had sight of ten caravels 
that were fishing at sea : with whom we would have spoken ; 
but they, fearing us, fled into a place of Barbary, called Cape 
de las Barbas. 

The 20th, the ship's pinnace, with two men in her, sailing 
by the ship, was overthrown [upset] by the oversight of them 
that were in her. The wind was so great, that before they 

? 1565.] Narrow escape of the Pinnace. 93 

were espied and the ship had cast about [tacked] for them, she 
was driven half a league to the lee^vard of the pinnace; 
and had lost sight of her, so that there was small hope of 
recovery, had not GOD's help and the Captain's Sir J. Haw- 
kins] diligence been: who, having well marked which way the 
pmnace was by the sun, appointed twenty-four of the lustiest 
rowers m the great boat to row to the windwards ; and so 
recovered (contrary to all men's expectations) both the 
pmnace^and the men sitting upon the keel of her. 

The 25th, he came to Cape Blanco, which is on the coast 
of Africa ; and a place where the Portuguese do ride [i.e., at 
anchor], that hsh there, in the month of November especially ; 
and is a very good place of fishing for pargoes, mullet, and 
dog fish. In this place, the Portuguese have no Hold for 
then- defence ; but have rescue [defence] of the barbarians, 
whom they entertain as their soldiers for the time of their 
being there : and for their fishing upon that coast of Africa, 
do pay a certain tribute to the King of the Moors. The 
people of that part of Africa are tawny, having long hair. 
Their weapons, in wars, are bows and arrows. 

The 26th, we departed from S. Avis Bay, within Cape 
Blanco; where we had refreshed ourselves with fish and 
other necessaries : and the 29th, we came to Cape Verde, 
which heth in 14^^ N. Lat. 

These people are all black, and are called Negroes; of 
stature, goodly men : and well liking, by reason of their food, 
which [surjpasseth [that of j all other Guineans, for kine, 
goats, pullen, rice, fruits, and fish. Here we took fishes with 
heads like conies [rabbits], and teeth nothing varying; of a 
jolly thickness, but not past a foot long : and are not to be 
eaten, without fiaying or cutting off the Head. 

To speak somewhat of the sundry sorts of these Guineans. 
The people of Cape Verde are called Leophares, and counted 
the goodliest men of all others, saving the Manicongoes, which 
do inhabit on this side the Cape of Good Hope. These Leo- 
phares have wars against the Jeloffes, which arc borderers 
[neighbours] by them. Their weapons are bows and arrows, 
targets, and short daggers; darts also, but varying from 
other Negroes : for, whereas the others use a long dart to 
fight with in their hands, they carry five or six small ones 
a piece, which they cast with. 

94 The Kidnappers arrive at Cape Verde. [ , '..,.. 

These men also are more civil than any others, because of 
their daily traffic with the Frenchmen ; and are of a nature 
very gentle and loving. For while we were there, we took in 
a Frenchman ; who was one of the nineteen that going to 
Brazil in a bark of Dieppe, of 60 tons : and being a seaboard 
of Cape Verde, 200 leagues, the planks of their bark, with a 
sea, break out upon them so suddenly, that much ado they 
had to save themselves in their boats. But by GOD's 
providence, the wind being westerly (which is rarely seen 
there), they got to the shore, to the isle Braves [? Gorec] ; and 
in great penury got to Cape Verde : where they remained six 
weeks, and had meat and drink of the same people. 

The said Frenchman having forsaken his fellows, wdiich 
were three leagues from the shore : and wandering with the 
Negroes to and fro, fortuned to come to the water's side ; and 
communing with certain of his countrymen which were in 
our ship, by their persuasions, came away with us. But his 
entertainment amongst them w^as such [i.e., so pleasant], that 
he desired it not ; but, through the importunate request of 
his countrymen, consented at the last. 

Here we stayed but one night and part of the day. For the 
7th of December, we came away : in that pretending [intend- 
ing] to have taken Negroes there, perforce; the Minion's men 
gave them there to understand of our coming, and our pretence, 
wherefore they did avoid the snares we had laid for them. 

The 8th of December, we anchored by a small island 
called Alcatrarsa [Alcantraz island]: wherein, at our going 
ashore, we found nothing but sea birds, as we call them, 
gannets ; but by the Portuguese called Alcatrarses, who, for 
that cause, gave the said island the same name. Herein, 
half of our boats were ladened with young and old fowl ; 
which, not being used to the sight of men, flew so about us, 
that we struck them down with poles. 

In this place, the two ships riding ; the two barks, with 
their boats, went into an island of the Sapies, called La 
Formio, to see if they could take any of them : and there 
landed, to the number of 80, in armour. And espying cer- 
tain, made to them ; but they fled in such order [a manner] 
into the woods, that it booted them not to follow. 

So, going on their way forward till they came to a river, 
which they could not pass over ; they espied on the other side. 



two men ; who, with their bows and arrows, shot terribly at 
them. Whereupon we discharged certain harquebusses to 
them again ; but the ignorant people weighed it not, because 
they knew not the danger thereof: but used a marvellous 
crying in their fight, with leaping and turning their tails, that 
it was most strange to see, and gave us great pleasure to 
behold them. At the last, one being hurt with an harquebus 
upon the thigh, looked upon his wound, and wist now how it 
came because he could not see the pellet. 

Here Master Hawkins perceiving no good to be done 
amongst them, because we could not find their towns ; and 
also not knowing how to go into Rio Grande [or Jcha] for 
want of a pilot, which was the very occasion of our coming 
thither : and finding so many shoals, feared, with our great 
ships to go in ; and therefore departed on our pretended 
[intended] way to the Idols. 

The loth of December, we had a north-east wind with 
rain and storm ; which weather continuing two days to- 
gether, was the occasion that the Solomon and Tiger lost our 
company : for whereas the Jesus and pinnace [Swallow] 
anchored at one of the islands called Sambula, the 12th day ; 
the Solomon and Tiger came not thither till the 14th. 

In this island, we stayed certain days ; going, every day, on 
shore to take the inhabitants, with burning and spoiling 
their towns: who before were Sapies, and were conquered 
by the Samboses [the modern Sajiibos], inhabitants beyond 
Sierra Leone. 

These Samboses had inhabited there three years before our 
coming thither; and, in so short space, have so planted the 
ground that they had great plenty of mill [millet], rice, roots, 
pompions [pumpkins], pullin, goats, of small dried fry: every 
house being full of the country's fruit, planted by GOD's 
Providence, as Palmito trees, fruits like dates, and sundry 
others, in no place in all that country so abundantly; where- 
by they lived more deliciously than others. 

These inhabitants had divers of the Sapies which they took 
in the wars, as their slaves; whom only they kept to till the 
ground, in that they neither have the knowledge thereof, nor 
yet will work themselves : of whom, we took many at that 
place ; but of the Samboses, none at all ; for they fled into 
the main[landl. 

96 Two Negro cannibal tribes. [ 


All the Samboses have white teeth as we have, far unlike 
to the Sapies which do inhabit about Rio Grande : for their 
teeth are all filed, which they do for bravery, to set them- 
selves out ; and do jag [? tattoo] their flesh, both legs, arms, 
and bodies as workmanlike as a jerkin maker with us pinketh 
a jerkin. These Sapies be more civil than the Samboses. 
For whereas the Samboses live most by the spoil of their 
enemies, both in taking their victuals, and eating them also: 
the Sapies do not eat man's flesh, unless, in the wars, they be 
driven by necessity thereunto (which they have not used 
[doite] but by the example of the Samboses) ; but live only 
with fruits and cattle, whereof they have great store. 

This plenty is the occasion that the Sapies desire not war, 
except they be thereunto provoked by the invasions of the 
Samboses : whereas the Samboses, for want of food, are 
enforced thereunto ; and, therefore, are not only wont to kill 
them that they take, but also keep those that they take 
until such time as they want meat, and then they kill 

There is also another occasion that provoketh the Sam- 
boses to war against the Sapies ; which is for coveteousness 
of their riches. For whereas the Sapies have an order [a 
custom] to bury their dead in certain places appointed for 
that purpose, with their gold about them ; the Samboses 
dig up the ground to have the same treasure : for the Sam- 
boses have not the like store of gold that the Sapies have. 

In this island of Sambula, we found about fifty boats called 
[in Portuguese] almadas or canoes, which are made of one 
piece of wood, digged out like a trough ; but yet of a good pro- 
portion, being about eight yards long, and one in breadth, 
having a beak head, and a stern very proportionably made ; 
and on the outside artificially carved, and painted red and 
blue. They are able to carry [at sea] twenty or thirty men ; 
but about the coast, threescore and upward. In these canoes, 
they row, standing upright, with an oar somewhat longer 
than a man ; the end whereof is made about the breadth and 
length of a man's hand of the largest sort. They row vfiry 
swift ; and, in some of them, four rowers and one to steer 
make as much way as a pair of oars in [a wherry on] the 
Thames of London. 

Their towns are prettily divided, with a main street at 

T '365.] DescriptioxV of a Negro village. 97 

the entering in, that goeth through the town ; and another 
overthwart street, which maketh their towns crossways.' 

Then- houses are built in a rank, very orderly, in the face 
of the street: and they are made round, like a dovecot with 
stakes set full of Palmito leaves, instead of a wall. They are 
not much more than a fathom large across], and two of hei'^-ht • 
and thatched with Palmito leaves very close, other some 
\vith reeds : and over the roof thereof, for the better garnir,!i- 
ing of the same, there is a round bundle of reeds prettily 
contrived like a lover [louvre]. In the inner part, they make 
a loft of sticks whereupon they lay all their provision of 
victuals. A place they reserve at their entrance for the 
kitchen ; and the place they lie in is divided with certain 
mats, artificially made with the rind of the Palmito trees. 
Their bedsteads are of small staves laid along, and raised 
a foot from the ground, upon which is laid a mat; and 
another upon them, when they list. For other coverin<^ 
they have none. ^ 

In the middle of the town, there is a house larger and 
higher than the others, but in form alike; adjoining unto 
which, there is a place made of four good stanchions of wood, 
and a round roof over it : the ground also raised round with 
clay, a foot high : upon the which floor were strew^ed many 
fine mats. This is the Consultation House ; the like where- 
of is in all towns, as the Portuguese affirm. In which place, 
when they sit in council, the King or Captain sitteth in the 
midst ; and the Klders upon the floor by him (for they give 
reverence to their Elders;, and the common sort sit round 
about them. There they sit to examine matters of theft ; 
which if a man be taken with, to steal but one Portuguese 
cloth from another, he is sold to the Portuguese for a slave. 
They consult also and take order what time they shall go to 
wars ; and (as it is certainly reported by the Portuguese) they 
take order in gathering of the fruits, in the season of the year: 
and also of Palmito wine (which is gathered by a hole cut 
in the top of a tree and a gorde [gourd] set there for the re- 
ceiving thereof, which falleth in by drops ; and yieldeth fresh 
wine again within a month), and this being divided, part and 
])ortion like, to every man, by the judgement of the Captain 
\ C In ef] a.nd Elders; ever man holdeth himself contented. 
And this, surely, I judge to be a very good order ; for other- 

£xr,. Gak. V. y 

98 Death of a Carpenter of the Tiger. [ , ■_,=;. 

wise where there is scarcity of Palmito ; every man would 
have {seek\ the same ; which might breed great strife. But 
of such things as every man doth plant for himself; the 
sower thereof reapeth it to his own use : so that nothing is 
common but that which is unset by man's hands. 

In their houses, there is more common passage of lizards 
like evets, and others greater (of black and blue colour, of 
near[ly] a foot long besides their tails) than there is, with 
us, of mice in great houses. 

The Sapies and Samboses also use, in their wars, bows and 
arrows made of reeds, with heads of iron poisoned with the 
juice of a cucumber: whereof I have had many in my hands. 

In their battles they have target men with broad wicker 
targets [shields], and darts with heads of iron at both ends : 
the one in form of a two-edged sword, a foot and a half long, 
and at the other end the iron of the same length, made to 
counterpoise it ; that, in casting, it might jfly level, rather 
than for any other purpose as I can judge. And when they 
espy the enemy, the Captain, to cheer his men, crieth, Hungry ! 
and they answer Heygre ! and with that, every man placeth 
himself in order. For about every target man, three bowmen 
will cover themselves ; and shoot as they see advantage : and 
when they give the onset, they make such terrible cries that 
they may be heard two miles off. 

P"or their belief, I can hear of none that they have, but in 
such as they themselves imagine to see in their dreams ; and 
so worship the pictures, whereof we saw some like unto 

In this island aforesaid, we sojourned unto the 21st of 
December, where, having taken certain Negroes, and as much 
of their fruit, rice, and mill as we could well carry away 
(whereof there was such store that we might have laden one 
of our barks therewith) we departed. 

And, at our departure, divers of our men [i.e., of the Jesus] 
being desirous to go on shore to fetch pompions (which 
having proved, they had found to be very good) certain of the 
Tiger's men went also: amongst the which, there was a Car- 
penter, a young man. Who, with his fellows, having fetched 
many, and carried them down to their boats ; as they were 
ready to depart, desired his fellows " to tarry while he might 

1 \-^r,s'] Unsuccessful attack on 99 

go up to fetch a few, which he had laid by for himself," who, 
being more licorous [i^luttonons] than circumspect, went up 
without his weapon. And as he went up alone, possibly being 
marked of the Negroes that were upon the trees, they, 
esp}ing him to be alone and without weapon, dogged him ; 
and finding him occupied in binding his pompions together, 
came behind him ; and overthrowing him, straight cut his 
throat : as he, afterwards, was found by his fellows, who 
came to the place for him ; and there found him naked. 

The 22nd, the Captain went into a river, called Callowsa, 
with the two barks, the Jesus'?, pinnace, and the Soloinoji's 
boat ; leaving at anchor, in the river's mouth, the two ships : 
where the Portuguese rode in the river,, being twenty leagues 
in. He came thither the 25th, and despatched his business; 
and so returned, with two caravels laden with Negroes. 

The 27th, the Captain, being advertised by the Portuguese 
of a town of the Negroes, called Bimba, being in the way as 
they returned ; where was not only great quantity of gold, 
but also there were not above forty men, and a hundred 
women and children in the town, so that if he would give the 
adventure upon the same, he might get a hundred slaves. 
With the which tidings, he being glad (because the Portu- 
guese should not think him to be of so base a courage, but 
that he durst give them that, and greater attempts; and being 
thereunto, also, the more provoked with the prosperous 
success he had in other adjacent islands, where he had put 
them all to flight, and taken in one boat twenty together), 
determined to stay before the town three or four hours, to 
see what he could do. And thereupon prepared his men in 
armour and weapon, together, to the number of forty men, 
well appointed, having for their guides certain Portuguese in 
a boat : who brought some of them to their death. 

We landing, boat after boat, and divers of our men scat- 
tering themselves (contrary to the Captain's will) b\' one or 
two in a company, for the hope they had to find gold in their 
houses, ransacking the same; in the meantime, the Negroes 
came upon them, and hurt many, being thus scattered ; 
whereas, if five or six had been together, they had been able 
(as their companions did) to give the overthrow to forty of 
them. Being driven down to take their boats, they were 

loo An equal number of Men, and Sharks! [ , -j.^.. 

followed so hardly by a rout of Negroes (who, by that, took 
courage to pursue them to their boats) that not only some of 
them, but others standing on shore, not looking for any such 
matter (by means that the Negroes did flee at the first, and 
our company remained in the town) were suddenly so set 
upon, that some, with great hurt, recovered their boats : 
other some, not able to recover the same, took to the water, 
and perished by means of the ooze. 

While this was doing ; the Captain, who, with a dozen 
men, went through the town, returned ; finding two hundred 
Negroes at the water's side, shooting at them in the boats, 
and cutting them in pieces that were drowned in the water : 
at whose coming, they all ran away. 

So he entered his boats ; and before he could put off from 
the shore, they returned again, and shot very fiercely, and 
hurt divers of them. 

Thus we returned back, somewhat discomforted ; although 
the Captain, in a singular wise manner, carried hirnself, with 
countenance very cheerful outwardly, as though he did little 
weigh the death of his men, nor yet the hurt of the rest 
(although his heart inwardly was broken in pieces for it) : done 
to this end, that the Portuguese being with him, should rot 
presume to resist against him, nor take occasion to put him 
to further displeasure or hindrance for the death of our men ; 
having gotten, by our going, ten Negroes, and lost seven of 
our best men (whereof Master Field, Captain of the Solomon 
was one) and had twenty-seven of our men hurt. 

In the same hour, while this was adoing, there happened, 
at the same instant, a marvellous miracle to them in the 
ships, who rode ten leagues to the seaward, by many sharks 
or tibnrons, which came about the ships : one was taken by 
the Jesus, and four by the Solomon; and one, very sore hurt, 
escaped. And so it fell out with our men [i.c.,at Bimha],v^h.eYeoi 
one of the Jcsiis's, men, and four of the Solomon's were killed, 
and the fifth, having twenty wounds, was rescued, and 
escaped with much ado. 

The 28th, they came to their ships, the Jesus and the 

And the 30th, they departed from thence to Taggarin. 
The ist of January [1565], the two barks, and both the 


boats forsook the ships, and went into a river called the 
Casseroes : and the 6th, havinj^ despatched their business, 
the two barks returned, and came to Taggarin where the two 
ships were at anchor. 

Not two days after the coming of the two ships thither 
[i.e., 2nd January] they put their water caske casks] ashore, 
and filled it with water, to season the same: thinking to 
have filled it with fresh water afterwards. And while their 
men were some on shore, and some at their boats ; the 
Negroes set upon them in their boats, and hurt divers of 
them ; and came to the casks, and cut the hoops of twelve 
butts, which lost us four or five days' time, besides great 
want we had of the same. 

Sojourning at Taggarin, the Swallow went up the river, 
about her trafiic ; where they saw great towns of the Negroes, 
and canoes that had threescore men in apiece. 

There, they understood by the Portuguese, of a great 
battle between them of Sierra Leone side, and them of 
Taggarin. They of Sierra Leone had prepared three hundred 
canoes to invade the other. 

The time was appointed, not past six days after our de- 
parture from thence : which we would [wished to] have seen, 
to the intent w-e might have taken some of them ; had it not 
been for the death and sickness of our men, which came by the 
contagiousness of the place ; which made us to haste away. 

The i8th of January, at night, we departed from Taggarin ; 
being bound for the West Indies. Before which departure, 
certain of the Solomon's men went on shore to fill water, in 
the night ; and as they came on shore, with their boat, being 
ready to leap on land, one of them espied a negro in a white 
coat, standing on a rock, ready to have received them when 
they came on shore ; having in sight, also, eight or nine of 
his fellows, some leaping out u\ one place and some in 
another; but they hid themselves straight [immediately] again. 
Whereupon our men doubting [fearing] the)' had been a great 
company, and sought to have taken them at more advantage, 
(as GOD would ! ) departed to their ships: not thinking there 
had been such mischief pretended to them, as there was 
indeed ; which, the next day, we understood of a Portuguese 
that came down to us, who had traffic with the Negroes. 

102 50 I^AYS' SAILING TO THE WeST InDIES. [ , '^gg. 

By whom, we understood, that the King of Sierra Leone 
had made all the power he could, to take some of us. Partly 
for the desire he had to see what kind of people we were, that 
had spoiled his people at the Idols, whereof he had news 
before our coming; and, as I judge, also upon other occasions, 
provoked by the Tangomangoes. But sure we were, that the 
army was come down : by means that, in the evening, we 
saw such a monstrous fire made by the watering place, that 
was not seen before ; which fire is the only mark for the 
Tangomangoes, to know where their army always is. 

If these men had come down in the evening, they had 
done us great displeasure ; for that we were on shore filling 
water. But GOD (who worketh all things for the best) 
would not have it so ; and by Him, we escaped without 
danger. His name be praised for it ! 

The igth of this same month, we departed with all our 
ships, from Sierra Leone towards the West Indies ; and for the 
space of twenty-eight days, we were becalmed, having now 
and then contrary winds and some tornadoes amongst the 
same calm, which happened to us very ill : being but reason- 
ably watered for so great a company of Negroes and ourselves, 
which pinched us all ; and that which was worst, put us in 
such fear that many never thought to have reached to the 
Indies, without great death of Negroes and of themselves. But 
the Almighty GOD (who never suffereth His elect to perish !) 
sent us the i6th of February, the ordinary breeze, which is 
the North-west wind, which never left us, till we came to an 
island of the cannibals, called Dominica ; where we arrived 
the gth [? 10//2] of March, upon a Saturday. And because 
it v/as the most desolate place in all the island, we could see 
no cannibals ; but some of their houses where they dwelled ; 
and as it should seem, they had forsaken the place for want 
of fresh water ; for we could find none there but rain water, 
and such as fell from the hills and remained as a puddle in 
the dale ; whereof we filled for our Negroes [!]. 

The cannibals of that island, and also others adjacent, 
are the most desperate warriors that are in the Indias, 
by the Spaniards' report ; who are never able to conquer 
them ; and they are molested by them not a little, when they 
are driven to water there in any of those islands. 


..] The Fleet arrives at Margarita. 103 

Of very late, not two months past, in the said island, a 
caravel being driven to water, was, in the night, set upon by 
the inhabitants ; who cut their cable in the hawser, whereby 
they were driven ashore, and so taken by them and eaten. 

The Green Dra;:;on of Newhaven [Hdvve], whereof was 
Captain, one Bontemps, in March [1565], also, came to one 
of those islands, called Grenada ; and being driven to water, 
could not do the same for the cannibals, who fought with him 
very desperately two days. 

For our part also, if we had not lighted upon the desertest 
place in all that island, we could not have missed ; but 
should have been greatly troubled by them, by all the 
Spaniards' reports, who make them devils in respect of men. 

The loth day, at night, we departed from thence, and the 
15th, had sight of nine islands called the Testigos ; and the 
i6th, of an island called Margarita, where we were entertained 
by the Alcade, and had both beeves and sheep given us, for 
the refreshing of our men. But the Governor of the island 
would neither come to speak with our Captain, neither yet 
give him any license to traffic : and to displease us the more, 
whereas we had hired a Pilot to have gone with us, they 
would not only not suffer him to go with us, but also sent 
word by a caravel, out of hand, to Santo Domingo, to the 
Viceroy, who doth represent the King's person, of our arrival 
in those parts. Which had like to have turned us to great dis- 
pleasure, by the means that the same Viceroy did send word 
to Cape de la Vela, and toother places along the coast, com- 
manding them (by the virtue of his authority and by the 
obedience that they owe to their Prince) that no man should 
traffic with us, but should resist us with all the force they 

In this island, notwithstanding that we were not within 
four leagues of the town ; yet were they so afraid, that not 
only the Governor himself but also all the inhabitants forsook 
their town, assembling all the Indians to them, and lied into 
the mountains: as we were partly certified, and saw the ex- 
perience ourselves, by some of the Indians coming to see us ; 
when three Spaniards a horseback passing hard by us, went 
unto the Indians (having every one of them their bows and 
arrows), procuring them away, who before were conversant 
with us. 

I04 -Potatoes, the most delicate of roots ! [ 


Here perceiving no traffic to be had wich them, not yet 
water for the refreshing of our men ; we were driven to depait 
the 20th day. 

And the 22nd, we came to a place in the Main, called 
Cumana : whither the Captain going in his pinnace, spake 
with certain Spaniards, of whom he demanded traffic. 

But they made him answer, " They were but soldiers newly 
come thither, and were not able to buy one Negro." 

Whereupon he asked lor a watering place, and they 
pointed him a place two leagues off, called Santa Fe : where 
we found marvellous goodly watering, and commodious for the 
taking in thereof; for that the fresh water came into the sea, 
and so our ships had, aboard the shore, twenty fathoms water. 
Near about this place inhabited certain Indians, who, the next 
day after we came thither, came down to us; presenting 
mill, and cakes of bread, which they had made of a kind of 
corn called Maize, in bigness of a pea, the ear whereof is 
much like to a teasel, but a span in length, having thereon 
a number of grains. Also they brought down to us hens, 
potatoes^ and pines, which we bought for beads, pewter 
whistles, glasses, knives, and other trifles. 

These potatoes be the most delicate roots that may be 
eaten ; and do far exceed our parsnips or carrots. Their 
pines be of the bigness of two fists, the outside whereof is 
of the making of a pine apple, but it is soft like the rind of a 
cucumber ; and the inside eateth like an apple, but it is more 
delicious ihan any sweet apple sugared. 

These Indians be of colour ta\\ny, like an olive; having 
every one of them, both men and women, hair all black, and 
no other colour ; the women wearing the same hanging down 
to their shoulders, and the men rounded, and without beards : 
neither men or women suffering any hair to grow in any part 
of their body, but daily pull it off as it groweth. • 

These people be very small feeders : for travelling, they 
carry but two small bottles of gourds, wherein they put in 
one the juice of sorrel whereof they have great store ; and in 
the other flour of their maize, which being moist, they eat, 
taking sometimes of the other. These men carry every man 
his bow and arrows ; whereof some arrows are poisoned for 
wars, which they keep in a cane together, which cane is of 

J -.-e;..] T E M r T E D BY C A R I B S WITH GOLD. I 05 

the bigness of a man's arm : other some with broad heads of 
iron, wherewith they strike fish in the water. The experience 
whereof, we saw not once nor twice, but daily, for the time 
we tarried there. For they are so good archers, that the 
Spaniards, for fear thereof, arm themselves and their 
horses with quilted canvas of two inches thick, and leave no 
place of their bodies open to their enemies, saving their eyes 
\\hich they may not hide ; and }et oftentimes are the}' hit in 
that so small a scantling. Their poison is of such a force, 
that a man being stricken therewith, dieth within four and 
twenty hours, as the Spaniards do affirm : and, in my judge- 
ment, it is likely there can be no stronger poison, as they 
make it, using thereunto apples which are very fair and red 
of colour, but are a strong poison ; with the which, together 
with venemous bats and vipers, adders and other serpents, 
they make a medley, and therewith anoint the same. 

The beds which they have, are made of gossapine cotton, 
and wrought artificially of divers colours ; which they carry 
about with them when they travel, and making the same 
fast to two trees, lie therein. The people be surely gentle 
and tractable, and such as desire to live peaceable ; or else 
had it been impossible for the Spaniards to have conquered 
them as they did, and the more to live now peaceably : they 
being so many in number, and the Spaniards so few. 

From thence, we departed the 28th ; and the next da}', we 
passed between the mainland and the island called Tortuga, 
(a very low island) in the }ear of our Lord GOD 1565 afi)re- 
said : and sailed along the coast until the ist of April ; at 
which time, the Captain sailed along in the Jesiis's pinnace 
to discern the coast, and saw many Caribs on shore, and 
some also in their canoes : which made tokens unto him of 
friendship, and shewed gold, meaning thereb}' that they 
would traffic for wares. 

Whereupon he stayed, to see the manner of them ; and so 
for two or three trifles, they gave such things as they had about 
them, and departed. 

But the Caribs were very importunate to have them come 
on shore ; which, if it had not been for want of wares to 
traffic with them, he would not have denied them : because 
the Indians which we saw before, were very gentle people, and 

io6 The Fleet arrives at Bureoroata. [ 


such as do no man hurt. But (as GOD would have it !) he 
wanted that thing, which, if he had had, would have been his 
confusion. For these were no such kind of people as we took 
them to be ; but more devilish a thousand parts, and are 
eaters and devourers of any man they can catch. As it was 
afterwards declared unto us at Burboroata, by a caravel 
coming out of Spain with certain soldiers and a Captain 
General, sent by the King for those eastward parts of the 
Indias. Who sailing along in a pinnace, as our Captain did, 
to descry the coast, was by the Caribs called ashore, with 
sundry tokens made to him of friendship, and gold shewed as 
though they desired to traffic : with the which the Spaniards 
being moved, suspecting no deceit at all, went ashore amongst 
them. The Captain was no sooner ashore, but with four or 
five more was taken ; the rest of his company being invaded 
by them, saved themselves by flight : but they that were 
taken, paid their ransom with their lives, and were presently 
[at once] eaten. And this is their practice to toll decoy] 
with their gold, the ignorant to their snares. They are blood- 
suckers of Spaniards, Indians, and all that light in their 
laps : not sparing their own countrymen if they can con- 
veniently come by them. 

Their policy in fight with the Spaniards is marvellous. For 
they choose for their refuge, the mountains and woods ; where 
the Spaniards, with their horses, cannot follow them : and if 
the}' fortune to be met in the plain, where one horseman may 
overrun a hundred of them ; they have a device, of late 
practised by them, to pitch stakes of wood in the ground, and 
also small iron pikes, to mischief their horses; wherein they 
shew themselves politic warriors. 

They have more abundance of gold than all the Spaniards 
have, and live upon the mountains where the mines are, in 
such number, that the Spaniards have much ado to get any 
of them from them. And yet, sometimes, by assembling a 
great number of men, which happeneth once in two years, 
they get apiece from them; which afterwards they keep sure 

Thus having escaped the danger of them ; we kept our course 
along the coast, and came the 3rd of April, to a town called 
Burboroata [ ? La Giiayra, or near it] ; where his ships came to 

t 1565 J 

The tricks o f t k a d e. 107 

an anchor, and the Captain himself went ashore to speak 
with the Spaniards. To whom, he declared himself to be an 
Englishman, and came thither to trade with them, by the way 
of merchandise ; and therefore required license for the same. 

Unto whom, they made answer, that " They were forbidden 
by the King to traffic with any foreign nation, upon penalty 
to forfeit their goods." Therefore they desired him " not to 
molest them any further ; but to depart as he came ! for other 
comfort he might not look for at their hands : because they 
were subjects, and might not go be3'ond the law." 

But he replied, " His necessity was such, as he might not 
do so. For being in one of the Queen of England's Aniiados, 
and having many soldiers in them ; he had need of some re- 
freshing for them, and of victuals, and of money also : with- 
out the which, he could not depart." And, with much other 
talk, persuaded them not to fear any dishonest part on his 
behalf towards them ; for neither would he commit any such 
thing to the dishonour of his Prince, nor yet for his honest 
reputation and estimation, unless he were too rigorously 
dealt withal, which he hoped not to find at their hands : in 
that it should as well redound to their profit as his own, and 
also he thought they might do it without danger ; because 
their Princes were in amity one with another, and for our 
parts, we had free traffic in Spain and Flanders which are in 
his dominions ; and therefore he knew no reason why he 
should not have the like in all his dominions. 

To the which, the Spaniards made an answer, that " It lay 
not in them, to give any license ; for that they had a Governor 
to whom the government of those parts was committed ; but 
if they would stay ten days, they would send to their Governor, 
who was threescore leagues off; and would, within the space 
appointed, return answer of his mind." 

In the meantime, they were contented he should bring his 
ships into harbour ; and there they would deliver him any 
victuals he would require. 

Whereupon, the fourth day, we went in, where, being one 
day, and receiving all things according to promise, the 
Captain advised himself that to remain there ten days idle, 
spending victuals and men's wages ; and perhaps, in the end, 
receive no good answer from the Governor, it were mere 
folly, were mere folly: and therefore delermined to make 

io8 Continued mercantile diplomacy. [ , \.f,^ 

request to have license for the sale of certain lean and sick- 
Negroes, which he had in his ship, like[ly] to die upon his 
hands, if he kept them ten days ; having little or no refreshing 
for them, whereas other men having them, they would be 
recovered well enough. And this request he was forced to 
make, because he had no otherwise wherewith to pay for 
victuals and for necessaries which he should take. 

Which request being put in writing, and presented, the 
Officers and town dwellers assembled together ; and finding 
his request so reasonable, granted him license for thirteen 
Negroes : which, afterwards, they cause the Officers to view, 
to the intent they should grant to nothing but that which 
were very reasonable, for fear of answering thereunto after- 

This being past, our Captain, according to their license, 
thought to have made sale ; but the day passed, and none 
came to buy, who before made shew that they had great need 
of them : and therefore he wist not what to surmise of them, 
whether they went about to prolong the time of the Governor's 
answer, because they would keep themselves blameless ; or 
for any other policy he knew not. And for that purpose, 
sent them word, marvelling what the matter was, that none 
came to buy them. 

They answered, " Because they had granted license only 
to the poor to buy those Negroes of small price; and their 
money was not so ready as other men's of more wealth. 
More than that. As soon as ever they saw the ships ; they 
had conveyed away their money by their wives that went 
into the mountains for fear, and were not yet returned : and 
yet asked two days, to seek their wives, and fetch their 

Notwithstanding, the next day, divers of them came to 
cheapen ; but could not agree of price, because they thought 
the price too high. 

Whereupon the Captain (perceiving they went about to 
bring down the price, and meant to buy ; and would not 
confess, if he had license, that he might sell at any reason- 
able rate, as they were worth in other places), did send for 
the principals of the town, and made a shew he would depart, 
declaring himself " to be very sorry that he had so much 
troubled them, and also that he had sent for the Governor to 

, '565] » The arrival of the Governor. 109 

come down ; seeing now his pretence [intention] was to 
depart " : whereat they marvelled much, and asked him, 
" What cause moved liim thereunto seeing, by their working, 
he was in possibihty to have his license ? " 

To which, he replied that " It was not only a license that 
he sought, but profit ; which he perceived was not to be had 
there; and therefore would seek farther": and withal 
shewed them his writings, what he paid for his Negroes ; 
declaring also the great charge he was at, in his shippmg and 
men's wages, and, therefore, to countervail his charges, he 
must sell his Negroes for .a greater price than they offered. 

So they, doubting [fearing] his departure, put him in 
comfort to sell better there than in any other place : and if it 
fell out that he had no license, that he should lose his labour 
in tarrying, for they would buy without license. 

Whereupon, the Captain being put in comfort, promised 
them to stay, so that he might make sale of his lean Negroes; 
which they granted unto : and the next day did sell some of 

They having bought and paid for them, thinking to have 
had a discharge of the Customer [Fariiier of the Customs 
for the custom [ import duty] of the Negroes, being the King's 
duty; they gave it away to the poor, for GOD's sake; and 
did refuse to give the discharge in writing: and the poor, 
not trusting their words, for fear lest, hereafter, it might be 
demanded of them, did refrain from buying any more. So 
nothing else was done until the Governor's coming down ; 
which was the 14th day [ i.e., of April]. 

Then the Captain made petition, declaring that *' He was 
come thither in a ship of the Queen's Majesty of England, 
being bound to Guinea; and thither driven by wind and 
weather : so that being come thither, he had need of sundry 
necessaries for the reparation of the said Navy, and also 
great need of money for the payment of his soldiers, unto 
whom he had promised payment ; and therefore although he 
would, yet would not they depart without it. And for that 
purpose, he requested license for the sale of certain of his 
Negroes; declaring that though they were forbidden to traffic 
with strangers : yet for that there was great amity between 
their Princes, and that the thing pertained to our Queen's 
Highness ; he thought he might do their Prince great service, 

r lo Hostages given for a boxa fide traffic. [ 


and that it would be well taken at his hands, to do it in this 

The which allegations, with divers others put in request, 
were presented unto the Governor ; who sitting in council 
for that matter, granted unto his request for license. 

But yet there fell out another thing, which was the abating 
of the King's custom ; being upon every slave, 30 ducats 
[5s. 6d. each = £S ^s.=:about £66 noii>>]: which would not be 
granted unto. 

W'hereupon the Captain perceiving that they would neither 
come near his price, he looked for, by a great deal ; not yet 
would abate the King's custom of that they offered ; so that 
either he must be a great loser by his wares, or else compel 
the Officers to abate the same King's custom, which was loo 
unreasonable (for to a higher price he could not bring the 
buyer): therefore the i6th of April, he prepared 100 men, well 
armed with bows, arrows, harquebusses, and pikes ; with the 
which he marched to the townwards. 

Being perceived by the Governor, he straight, with all 
expedition, sent messengers to know his request, desiring him 
" to march no further forward until he had answer again, 
which incontinent he should have." 

So our Captain declaring "how unreasonable a thing the 
King's custom was, requested to have the same abated and 
to pay y^ per centum, which is the ordinary custom for wares 
through his Dominions there; and unto this, if they would 
not grant, he would displease them." 

And this word being carried to the Governor; answer was 
returned that "all things should be to his content." 

Thereupon he determined to depart ; but the soldiers and 
mariners finding so little credit in their promises, demanded 
gages for the performance of the promises, or else they would 
not depart. And thus they being constrained to send their 
gages ; we departed, beginning our traffic, and ending the 
same without disturbance. 

Thus having made traffic in the harbour until the 28th ; 
our Captain with his ships intended to go out of the road and 
purposed to make shew of his departure ; because now the 
common sort having employed their money, the rich men were 
come to town, who made no shew that they were come to buy, 
so that they went about to bring down the price ; and by his 

, -.J Trading, anchored off Curacao, rii 

policy the Captain knew they would be made the more eager, 
for tear lest we departed, and they should go without any at all. 

The 2gth, we being at anchor without the road, a French 
ship called the Green Dragon of Newhaven [Havre] ; whereof 
was Captain one Bontemps, came in : who saluted us after 
the manner of the sea, with certain pieces of ordnance ; and 
we saluted him with the like again. 

With whom, having communication ; he declared that he 
had been at the Mine El Mina] in Guinea, and was beaten 
off by the Portuguese galleys, and enforced to come thither 
[Burboroatai to make sale of such wares [i.e., Negroes] as he 
had : and further that the like was happened with the Minion. 
Besides Lwhichj, the Captain David Carlet and a Merchant 
[Supercargo], with a dozen mariners Jiad been] betra3'ed by the 
Negroes at their first arrival thither, and remained prisoners 
with the Portugals; besides other misadventures of the loss 
of their men happened, through the great lack of fresh water, 
with great doubts of bringing home the ships. Which was 
most sorrowful for us to understand. 

Thus having ended our traffic here, the 4th of May ; we 
departed, leaving the Frenchman behind us. 

The night before the which, the Caribs, whereof I made 
mention before, being to the number of two hundred, came 
in their canoes to Burboroata, intending by night to have 
burned the town and taken the Spaniards, who being more 
vigilant (because of our being there) than their custom was : 
perceiving them coming, raised the town ; who, in a moment, 
being a horseback (by means [that! their custom is, for 
all doubts, to keep their horses ready saddled, in the 
night), set upon them and took one ; but the rest making 
shift for themselves, escaped away. This one, because he 
was their guide, and was the occasion that divers times they 
had made invasion upon them, had for this travail a stake 
thrust through him, and so out at his neck. 

The 6th of May aforesaid, we came to an island called 
Curasao, where we had thought to have anchored ; but could 
not find ground, and having let fall an anchor with two cables 
were fain to weigh it again : and the 7th, sailing along the 
coast to seek a harbour, and finding none, we came to an 
anchor where we rode open in the sea. In this place, we 

112 Vast increase of West Indian cattle. [ , -j^, 

had traffic for hides, and found great refreshing both of beef, 
mutton, and lambs ; whereof there was such plenty that 
saving the skins, we had the flesh given us for nothing. The 
plenty whereof was so abundant, that the worst in the ship 
thought scorn not only of mutton, but also of sodden lamb, 
which they disdained to eat unroasted. 

The increase of cattle in this island is marvellous; which, 
from a dozen of each sort brought tliither by the Governor, in 
25 years [i.e., about 1540 , he had a hundred thousand, at the 
least : and of other cattle was able to kill, without spoil of the 
increase, 1,500 yearly, which he killethfor the skins; and of 
the flesh saveth only the tongues, the rest he leaveth to the 
fowl [birds] to devour. And this I am able to affirm, not only 
upon the Governor's own report (who was the first that brought 
the increase thither) who so remaineth unto this day : but 
also by that I saw myself in one field ; where a hundred 
oxen la}' one by another, all whole, saving the skin and tongue 
taken away. 

And it is not so marvellous a thing, why they do thus cast 
away the flesh in all the islands of the West Indies, seeing 
the land is great, and more than they are able to inhabit ; the 
people few, having delicate fruits and meats enough besides 
to feed upon, which they rather desire ; and the increase of 
cattle which passeth man's reason to believe, when they 
come to a great number. 

For in Santo Domingo (an island called b}' the finders 
thereof, Hispaniola) is so great a quantity of cattle, and such 
increase thereof, that, notwithstanding the daily killing of 
them for their hides, it is not possible to assuage the number 
of them, but they are devoured by wild dogs, whose number 
is such (by suffering first to range the woods and mountains), 
that they eat and destroy 60,000 a year ; and yet small lack 
is found of them. And, no marvel ! for the said island is al- 
most as big as all England, and being the first place that 
was found of all the Indies, and of long time inhabited before 
the rest, it ought therefore, of reason, to be the most populous ; 
and, to this hour, the Viceroy and the Council Royal abideth 
there, as in the chiefest place of all the Indies, to prescribe 
orders to the rest, for the King's behalf: yet they have but 
one city and thirteen villages in all the same island, whereby 
the spoil of the cattle, in respect of the increase, is nothing. 

, ',.(33.] A K R I V A L AT Rio d e la H a c h a. 113 

The 15th of the foresaid month, we departed from Cura9ao ; 
not a little to the rejoicing of our Captain and us, that 
we had there ended our traffic [i.e., in hides]. But notwith- 
standing our sweet meat, we had sour sauce ! For, by reason 
of our riding [in] so open a sea : what with blasts (wherewith 
our anchors, being aground, three at once came home), and 
also with contrary winds blowing (whereby, for fear of the 
shore, we were fain to haul off to have anchor hold) some- 
times a whole day and a night, we turned [tacked] up and 
down. And this happened not once, but half a dozen times, 
in the space of our being there. 

The i6th, we passed by an island, called Aruba [Oriiba]. The 
17th, at night, we anchored six hours, at the west end of Cape 
de la Vela: and, in the morning, being the i8th, weighed again, 
keeping our course. In the which time, the Captain sailing 
by the shore in the pinnace, came to the Rancheria, a place 
where the Spaniards used to fish for pearls ; and there 
spoke with a Spaniard, who told him how far off he was 
from Rio de la Hacha : which, because he would not over- 
shoot, he anchored that night again. And the 19th, came 

Where, having talk with the King's Treasurer of the Indies, 
resident there, he declared his quiet traffic at Burboroata ; 
and shewed a certificate of the same, made by the Governor 
thereof : and therefore he desired to have the like there 

But the Treasurer made answer that " They were forbidden 
by the Viceroy and Council at Santo Domingo ; who having 
intelligence of our being on the coast, did send express com- 
mission to resist us with all the force they could, insomuch 
that they durst not traffic with us in any case," alleging 
that " If they did, they should lose all that they did traffic for ; 
besides their bodies at the Magistrate's commandment." 

Our Captain replied, that " He was in an Armado of the 
Queen's Majesty's of England, and sent about her other 
affairs ; but driven besides his pretended [intended] voyage, 
was enforced by contrary winds to come into those parts, 
where he hoped to find such friendship as he should do in 
Spain : to the contrary whereof, he knew no reason, in 
that there was amity betwixt their Princes. But seeing they 
would, contrary to all reason, go about to wilhstaud his 

114 Display of force on both sides. [ , 


traffic; it should not be said by [of] him, that 'having the 
force he hath, to be driven from his traffic, perforce,' but he 
would rather put it in adventure, to try whether he or they 
should have the better : and, therefore, willed them, to 
determine either to give him license to trade, or else to stand 
to their own harms ! " 

So upon this, it was determined, " He should have license 
to trade ; but they would give him such a price as was the 
one half less than he had sold for before:" and thus they 
sent word they would do, and none otherwise, and " If it 
liked him not, he might do what he would ! for they were 
determined not to deal otherwise with him." 

Whereupon, the Captain weighing their unconscionable 
request, wrote to them a letter, that " they dealt too rigorously 
with him ! to go about to cut his throat in the price of his com- 
modities ; which were so reasonably rated, as they could not, 
by a great deal, have the like at any other man's hands. 
But seeing they had sent him this, for his supper; he would, 
in the morning, bring them as good a breakfast ! " 

And therefore, in the morning, being the 21st of May, he 
shot off a whole-culverin, to summon the town : and, pre- 
paring 100 men in armour, went ashore ; having in his great 
boat, two falcons of brass, and in the other boats, double- 
bases in their noses [hows]. 

Which being perceived by the townsmen, they, incontinent, 
in battle array, with their drum, and ensign [colours] displayed, 
marched from the town to the sands, to the number of 150 
footmen, making great brags by their cries, and weaving 
[Waving] us ashore ; whereby they made a semblance to have 
fought with us indeed. 

But our Captain perceiving them to brag so, commanded 
the two falcons to be discharged at them, which put them in 
no small fear (as they afterwards declared) to see such great 
pieces in a boat. At every shot, they fell flat to the ground ; 
and as we approached near unto them, they broke their array, 
and dispersed themselves so much for fear of the ordnance, 
that, at last, they all went away with their ensign. 

The horsemen, also, being about 30, made as brave a shew 
as might be ; coursing up and down, with their horses, their 
brave white leather targets in the one hand, and their javelins 
in the other : as though they would have received us, at our 

,^,365] Matters are peaceably settled. 115 

landing. But when we landed, they gave ground, and con- 
sulted what they should do: for they little thought we would 
have landed so boldly. 

And therefore, as the Captain was putting his men in array, 
and marching forward to have encountered with them ; they 
sent a messenger on horseback, with a flag of truce, to the 
Captain : who declared that " the Treasurer marvelled what 
he meant to do, to come ashore in that order ; in considera- 
tion that they had granted to every reasonable request that 
he did demand ! " 

But the Captain, not well contented with this messenger, 
marched forwards. 

The messenger prayed him to stay his men ; and said, *' If 
he would come apart from his men, the Treasurer would come 
and speak to him ! " whereunto he did agree to commune 

The Captain, only with his armour, without weapon ; and 
the Treasurer on horseback, with his javelin : who was 
afraid to come near him, for fear of "his armour, which," he 
said, " was worse than his weapon ! " And so keeping aloof, 
communing together, the Treasurer, granted, in fine, all his 

Which being declared by the Captain to the company 
they desired " to have pledges for the performance of all 
things," doubting [fearing] that otherwise, when they had 
made themselves stronger, they would have been at defiance 
with us : and seeing that, now, they might have what they 
would request, they judged it to be more wisdom to be in assur- 
ance than to be forced to make any more labours about it. 

So, upon this, gages were sent, and we made our traffic 
quietly with them. 

In the meantime, while we stayed here, we watered a good 
breadth off from the shore ; where, by the strength of the fresh 
water, running into the sea, the salt water was made fresh. 

In this river, we saw many crocodiles, of sundry bignesses, 
but some as big as a boat, with four feet, a long broad mouth, 
and a long tail ; whose skin is so hard, that a sword will not 
pierce it. His nature is to live out of the water, as a frog 
doth : but he is a great devourer, and spareth neither fish 
(which is his common food), nor beasts, nor men, if he take 
them : as the proof thereof was known by a Negro, who, as 

ii6 Spaniards are secretly reinforced. [ , \^^., 

he was filling water in the river, was by one of them, carried 
clean away, and never seen after. 

His nature is ever, when he would have his prey, to cry 
and sob like a Christian body ; to provoke [entice] them to 
come to him : and then he snatcheth at them ! And, there- 
upon, came this proverb, that is applied unto women, when 
they weep, Lachrymce Crocodili : the meaning whereof is, that 
as the crocodile when he crieth, goeth them about most to 
deceive; so doth a woman, most commonly, when she weepeth. 

Of these, the Master of the Jesus watched one ; and by 
the bank's side, struck him, with the pike of a bill, in the 
side ; which, after three or four times turning in sight, sank 
down, and was not afterwards seen. 

In the time of our being in the rivers of Guinea, we saw 
many of a monstrous bigness : amongst the which, the 
Captain being in one of the barks coming down the same, 
shot a falcon at one, which he very narrowly missed, that, 
with a fear, plunged into the water, making a stream, like 
the " way " of a boat. 

Now while we were here, whether it were of a fear that the 
Spaniards doubted [feared], we would have done them some 
harm before we departed ; or for any treason that they pre- 
tended towards us, I am not able to say : but then, came 
thither a Captain with a dozen soldiers, from some of the 
other towns, upon a time when our Captain and the Treasurer 
had cleared all things between them, and were in communica- 
tion of a debt of the Governor's of Burboroata, which was to 
be paid by the said Treasurer ; who would not answer the 
same by any means. 

Whereupon certain words of displeasure passed betwixt 
the Captain and him ; and parting [separating] the one from 
the other ; the Treasurer possibly doubting that our Captain 
would, perforce, have sought the same, did immediately 
command his men to arms, both horsemen and footmen ; but 
because [and inasmuch] as the Captain was in the river, on the 
back side of the town, with his other boats and all his men 
unarmed and without weapons, it was to be judged he meant 
him little good ; having that advantage of him, that, coming 
upon the sudden, he might have mischiefed many of his men. 

But the Captain having understanding thereof not (trusting 

, -365.] Providential discovery of the same, i i 7 

to their gentleness, if they might have the advantage), de- 
parted aboard his ships ; and, at night, returned again : and 
demanded, amongst other talk, " What they meant by 
assembling their men, in that order ? " 

They answered, that *' their Captain being come to town, 
did muster his men according to his accustomed manner." 

But this is to be judged to be a cloak, in that, coming for 
that purpose, he might have done it sooner. But the truth 
is, they were not of force until then, whereby to enterprise 
any matter against us by means of pikes and harquebusses ; 
whereof they had want and were now furnished by our 
Captain ; and also three falcons which (having got in other 
places) they had secretly conveyed thither. These made 
them the bolder, and also for that they saw now a con- 
venient place to do such a feat : and time also serving there- 
unto, by the means that our men were not only unarmed and 
unprovided (as at no time before), but also were occupied in 
hewing of wood, and least thinking of any harm. These 
were occasions to provoke theni thereunto. 

And I suppose they went about to" bring it to effect, in that 
I* and another Gentleman being in the town, think- ♦ The Author 
ing of no harm towards us; and seeing men °f '^'^ ^'°''y- 
assembling in armour to the Treasurer's house, whereof we 
marvelled : and (revoking [recalling to mind] the former talk 
between the Captain and him, and the unreadiness of our 
men of whom advantage might have been taken) departed out 
of the town immediately, to give knowledge thereof. But 
before we came to our men by a flight-shot [bow-shot], two 
horsemen riding at gallop, were come near us (being sent, 
as we did guess, to stay us, lest we should carry the news to 
our Captain), but seeing us so near our men, they stayed 
their horses ; coming together and suffering us to pass : belike 
because we were so near that if they had gone ^bout the same, 
they had been espied by some of our men; which then would 
have immediately departed, whereby they would have been 
frustrate of their pretence. 

So the two horsemen rode about the bushes, to espy what 
we did. And seeing us gone, to the intent that they might 
shadow [cover] their coming down in post [i.e., in post 
haste] ; whereof suspicion might be had, feigned a simple 
excuse, in asking, " Whether he could sell any wine ? " 

Ti8 Turning their faces homewards. [ -,563. 

But that seemed so simple to the Captain, that, standing 
in doubt of their courtesy, he returned in the morning, with 
his three boats appointed with bases, [and falconsj in their 
noses ; and his men with weapons accordingly : whereas, 
before, he carried none. 

Thus dissembling all injuries conceived of both parts, the 
Captain went ashore, leaving pledges in the boats for him- 
self, and cleared all things between the Treasurer and 
him, saving for the Governor's debt : which the one, by no 
means, would answer; and the other (because it was not his 
due debt), would not molest him for it, but was content to 
remit it until another time. 

He therefore departed, causing the two barks which rode 
near the shore, to weigh and go under sail ; which was done 
because that our Captain, demanding a testimony of his good 
behaviour there, could not have the same until he were 
under sail, ready to depart. And therefore, at night, he went 
for the same again, and received it at the Treasurer's hand ; 
of whom, very courteously, he took his leave, and departed, 
shooting off the base of his boat, for his farewell : and the 
townsmen also shot off four falcons and thirty harquebusses, 
and this was the first time that he knew of the conveyance of 
their falcons. 

The 31st of May, we departed, keeping our course to His- 
paniola : and the 4th June, we had sight of an island, which 
we made to be Jamaica ; marvelling that, by the vehement 
course [current] of the seas, we should be driven so far to 
leeward. For setting our course to the west end of His- 
paniola, we fell with the middle of Jamaica ; notwithstand- 
ing that to all men's sight, it shewed a headland : but they 
were all deceived by the clouds that lay upon the land two 
days together, in such sort, that we thought it to be the 
headland of the said island. 

And a Spaniard being in the ship, who was a -merchant, 
and an inhabitant in Jamaica (having occasion to go to 
Guinea, and being, by treason, taken of the Negroes, and 
afterwards bought by the Tangomangoes, was by our Captain, 
brought from thence ; and had his passage to go into his 
country), perceiving the land, made as though he knew every 


place thereof, and pointed to certain places, which he named 
to be such a place ! and such a man's ground ! and that 
behind such a point, was the harbour ! but, in the end, he 
pointed so from one point to another, that we were a leeboard 
of all places ; and found ourselves at the west end of 
Jamaica, before we were aware of it ; and being once to 
leeward, there was no getting up again. 

So that, by trusting to the Spaniard's knowledge, our 
Captain sought not [had no opportunity] to speak with any of 
the inhabitants ; which if he had not [thus] made himself so 
sure of, he would have done, as his custom was, in other 
places. But this man was a plague, not only to our Captain, 
whom he made to lose, by overshooting the place, £"2,000 
[zzzahout £16,000 now] by hides, which he might have gotten ; 
but also to himself. For having been three years out of his 
country, and in great misery in Guinea, both among the 
Negroes and Tangomangoes ; and in hope to come to his 
wife and friends, as he made sure account : in that, at his 
going into the pinnace, when he went to shore, he put on 
his new clothes, and, for joy, flung away his old; he could 
not, afterwards, find any habitation, neither there, nor in 
all Cuba, which we sailed along ; but it fell out ever, by 
one occasion or other, that we were put besides the same. 
So that, he was fain to be brought into England. And it 
happened to him, as it did to a duke of Samaria, when the 
Israelites were besieged, and were in great misery with 
hunger; and being told by the prophet Elisha, that " a 
bushel of flour should be sold for a shekel," would not be- 
lieve him, but thought it impossible : and for that cause, 
Elisha prophesied " He should see the same done, but he 
should not eat thereof! " So this man, being absent three 
years, and not ever thinking to have seen his own country ; 
did see the same ! went upon it ! and yet was it not his 
fortune, to come to it ! or to any habitation whereby to re- 
main with his friends, according to his desire ! 

Thus, having sailed along the coast, two days, we departed 
the 7th June ; being made to believe by the Spaniard, that it 
was not Jamaica, but rather Hispaniola ; of which opinion, 
the Captain also was, because that which he made Jamaica 
seemed to be but a piece of the land, and thereby took it 
rather to be Hispaniola, by the lying of the coast ; and also 


? 13^5. 

for that being ignorant of the force of the current, he could 
not beheve he was so far driven to leeward. 

And therefore setting his course to Jamaica, and after cer- 
tain days not finding the same ; he perceived then certainly 
that the island which he was at before, was Jamaica; and that 
the clouds did deceive him: whereof he marvelled not a little. 

And this mistaking of the place came to as ill a pause as 
the overshooting of Jamaica. For by this, did he also over- 
pass a place in Cuba, called Santa Cruz ; where, as he was 
informed, was a great store of hides to be had. 

Thus being disappointed of his two ports; where he 
thought to have raised great profit by his traffic, and also to 
have found great refreshing of victuals and water for his men : 
he was now greatly disappointed. 

And such want had he of fresh water, that he was forced 
to seek the shore, to obtain the same. Which, after certain 
days overpassed with storms and contrary winds, he had sight 
of; but yet not of the main [land] of Cuba, but of certain 
islands, two hundred in number, whereof the most part were 
desolate of inhabitants. 

By the which islands, the Captain passing in his pinnace, 
could find no fresh water, until he came to an island bigger 
than all the rest, called the Isle of Pines [/. de Pinos\, where 
we anchored with our ships, the i6th of June, and found 
water. Which although it were neither so toothsome as 
running water, by means it was standing and but the water 
of rain, and also, being near the sea, was brackish : yet did 
we not refuse it ; but were more glad thereof, as the time 
then required, than we should have been, another time, with 
fine conduit water. 

Thus, being reasonably watered, we were desirous to de- 
part : because the place was not very convenient for such 
ships of charge [big vessels] as they were, as there were many 
shoals to leeward ; and it also lay open to the sea, for any 
wind that should blow. Therefore, the Captain made the 
more haste away; which was not unneedtul. For little 
sooner [scarce] were their anchors weighed, and foresail set ; 
but there arose such a storm that they had not much to spare 
in doubling of the shoals: and one of the barks, not being 
fully ready as the rest, was fain, for haste, to cut the cable in 
hawse, and lose both anchor and cable, to save herself. 

'565.] Early English notice of turtle. 121 
Thus, the 17th of June, we departed. 

On the 20th, we fell in with the west end of Cuba, 
called Cape St. Antonio; where, for the space of three days, 
we doubled along [tacked], till we came beyond the shoals 
which are twenty leagues beyond St. Antonio. 

And the ordinary brise [breeze] taking us, which is the 
north-east wind, put us, the 24th, from the shore ; and there- 
fore we went to the north-west, to fetch wind ; and also to 
the coast of Florida, to have the help of the current [the Gulf 
Stream], which was judged to have set to the eastward. 

So the 29th, we found ourselves in 27° [i.e., N. Lai., but 
still inside the Gulf of Mexico] : and in the soundings of Florida, 
wherein we kept ourselves, the space of four days, sailing 
along the coast [which was, however ^ Westward of the Fleet, 
not Eastward] as near as we could, in ten or twelve fathom 
water : having, all the while, no sight of land. 

The 5th of July, we had sight of certain islands of sand, 
called the Tortn^as, which is low land, where the Captain 
went in, with his pinnace ; and found such a number of birds 
that, in half an hour, he laded her with them ; and, if there 
had been ten boats more, they might have done the like. 
These islands bear the name of Tortles [turtle], because of 
the number of them which there do breed : whose nature is, 
to live both in the water and also upon land, but breed only 
upon the shore, by making a great pit, wherein they lay eggs, 
to the number of three or four hundred, and covering them 
with sand, they are hatched by the heat of the sun ; and by 
this means, cometh the great increase. Of these, we took 
very great ones, which have both back and belly all of bone 
of the thickness of an inch; the fish [flesh] whereof we proved, 
[it] eating much like veal: and finding a number of eggs in 
them, tasted also of them, but they did eat very sweetl}'. 

Here we anchored six hours ; and then a fair gale of wind 
sprini^ing : we weighed anchor, and made sail toward Cuba, 
whither we came the 6th day ; and weathered as far as the 
Table, being a hill so called, because of the form thereof. 

Here, we lay off and on all night, to keep that whicii we 
had gotten to windward ; intending to have watered in the 
morning, if we could have done it ; or else, if the wind luul 

122 The ships miss Havana twice. [ , -^.^g 

come larger [fuller], to have plied to windward, to Havana ; 
which is a harbour, whereuntoall the Fleets of the Spaniards 
come, and do there tarry to have the company one of 

This hill, we thinking to have been the Table, as it was 
indeed, made account that Havana was but eight leagues to 
windward. But, by the persuasions of a Frenchman, who 
made the Captain believe he knew the Table very well, and 
had been at Havana, and said that " It was not the Table! 
and that the Table was much higher, and nearer to the 
seaside! and that there was no plain ground to the Eastward, 
nor hills to the Westward ; but all was contrary ! and that 
behind the hills to the Westward was Havana ! " 

To which persuasion, credit being given by some, and they 
not of the worst; the Captain was persuaded to go to leeward : 
and so sailed along the 7th and 8th days, finding no habi- 
tation, nor no other Table. And then perceiving his folly to 
give ear to such praters, was not a little sorry : both because 
he did consider what time he should spend ere he could get 
so far to windward again (which would have been, with the 
weathering which we had, ten or twelve days' work ; and what 
it would have been longer, he knew not); and, that which 
was worst, he had hot above a day's water, and therefore, 
knew not what shift to make. 

But in fine, because the want was such, that his men could 
not live without it ; he determined to seek water ; and to go 
further to leeward, to a place, as it is set in the Card [chart], 
called Rio de lo^ Pticrcos. Which he was in doubt of, as to 
whether it were inhabited ; and whether there were water or 
not, and whether (for the shoals) he might have such access 
with his ships, that he might conveniently take in the same. 

And while we were in these troubles, and kept our way to 
the place aforesaid. Almighty GOD, our guide ! (who would 
not suffer us to run into any further danger which we had 
been like to have incurred, if we had ranged the coast of 
Florida [i.e., the West coast of the present State of Florida], as 
we did before ; which is so dangerous, by reports, that no 
ship escapeth, which cometh thither; as the Spaniards have 
very well proved the same) sent us, the 8th day, at night, a 
fair westerly wind. Whereupon the Captain and company 
consulting, determined not to refuse GOD's gift ; but every 

, 'jgj] Narrow escape of the two boats. 123 

man was contented to pinch his own belly, whatsoever had 
happened [might happen]. 

And taking the said wind, we got the 9th day to the Table ; 
and sailing the same night, unawares overshot Havana; at 
which place we thought to have watered. But the next day, 
not knowing that we had overshot the same, sailed along the 
coast, seeking it : and the i ith day, in the morning, by certain 
known marks, we understood that we had overshot it twenty 
leagues ; in which coast ranging, we found no convenient 
watering place. Whereby there was no remedy, but to dis- 
embogue, and to water upon the coast of Florida H.c, to go 
out of the Gulf of Mexico, by the Gulf of Florida, into the A tlantic 
Ocean; and coast Northward along the East coast of the present 
State of Florida]. For, to go farther to the Eastward, we 
could not for the shoals ; which are very dangerous ; and 
because the current [the Gulf Stream] shooteth to the North- 
east, we doubted [feared], by 'the force thereof, to set upon 
them, and therefore durst not approach them. 

So making but reasonable way, the. day aforesaid and all 
the night; the 12th day, in the morning, we fell in with the 
Islands upon the Cape of Florida [? Florida Reefs] ; which we 
could scant [scarcely] double, by the means that fearing the 
shoals to the Eastward, and doubting the current coming 
out of the West, which was not of that force we made account 
of. For we felt little or none, till we fell with the Cape; and 
then felt such a current [going North-east] that, bearing 
all sails against the same [i.e., Westward], wqw^tq y^t driwtn 
back again [at] a great pace. 

The experience whereof, we had h}' the Jesus's pinnace and 
the Soloinon's boat : which were sent the same day, in the 
afternoon, whiles the ships were becalmed, to see if they 
could find any water upon the islands aforesaid. Who spent 
a great part of the day in rowing thither, being farther off 
than they deemed it to be ; and in the meantime, a fair 
gale of wind springing at sea, the ships departed, making a 
sign to them to come away. Who, although they saw them 
depart, because they were so near the shore, would not lose 
all the labour they had taken ; but determined to keep their 
way, and see if there were any water to be had ; making no 
account but to find the ships well enough. 

But they spent so much time in lilling the water which 

1 24 Gulf Stream carries yEsus northward. [ ? '505. 

they had found, that night was come before they could make 
an end : and having lost the sight of the ships, they rowed 
what they could ; but were wholly ignorant which way they 
should seek them again, as indeed there was a more [greater] 
doubt, than they knew of. 

For when they departed, the ships were in no current ; but 
sailing but a mile further, they found one so strong, that, 
bearing all sails, it could not prevail against the same, but 
they were driven back. 

Whereupon the Captain sent the Solomon, with the two 
barks, to bear near the shore, all night ; because the current 
was a great deal less there: and to bear a light, with shooting 
off a piece [gun] now and then ; to the intent, the boats might 
better know how to come to them. 

The Jesus also bear a light in her topgallant, and also 
shot off a piece, now and then. 

But the night passed, and the morning was come, being 
the 13th day, and no news could be heard of them. But the 
ship and barks ceased not to look still for them ; yet they 
thought it was all in vain, by means they heard not of them 
all the night past: and therefore determined to tarry no longer 
seeking for them till noon ; and if they heard no news then, 
they would depart to the Jesus, which, perforce, by the 
vehemency of the current, was carried almost out of sight. 

But, as GOD would have it ! the time being now come, 
and they having tacked about : in the pinnace's top, they had 
sight of them, and took them up. They in the boats, being 
to the number of one and twenty, having sight of the ships, 
and seeing them tacking about ; whereas, before, at the first 
sight of them, they did greatly rejoice, were, now, in a greater 
perplexity than ever they were ; for by this, they thought 
themselves utterly forsaken, whereas, before, they were in 
some hope to have found them. 

Truly, GOD wrought marvellously for them ! For they 
themselves, having no victuals but water, and being sore 
oppressed with hunger, were not of opinion to bestow any 
further time in seeking the ships than that present noon time. 
So that, if they had not, at that instant, espied them, they 
had gone to the shore to have made provision for victuals ; 
and with such tilings as they could have gotten, either to 
liave gone for that part of Florida where the iMcnchmen were 

r '565] Coasting along the Floridan shore. 125 

planted [the River of May], which would have been very hard 
for them to have done, because they wanted victuals to bring 
them thither, being 120 leagues off; or else to have remained 
among the Floridans. At whose hands, they were put in 
comfort by a Frenchman who was with them (that had re- 
mained in Florida, at the first finding thereof, a whole year 
together) to receive victuals sufficient, and gentle entertain- 
ment, if need were for a year or two, until which time, GOD 
might have provided for them. But how contrary this would 
have fallen out to their expectations, it is not hard to judge ; 
seeing those people of the Cape of Florida are of more 
savage and fierce nature, and more valiant than any of 
the rest : which the Spaniards well proved. Who, being 500 
men, intended to land there : and few or none of them returned, 
but were enforced to forsake of the same. And of their 
cruelty ; mention is made in the book of the Decades, of a 
friar, who taking upon him to persuade the people to sub- 
jection, was by them taken, and his skin cruelly pulled over 
his ears, and his flesh eaten. 

In these islands, they, being ashore, found a dead man dried 
in a manner whole ; with other heads and bodies of men. 
So that this sort of men are eaters of the flesh of men, as 
well as the cannibals. 

But to return to our purpose. 

The 14th day [of July], the ship and barks came to the Jesus, 
bringing news of the recovery of the men ; which was not a 
little to the rejoicing of the Captain and the whole company. 
And so then, all together, they kept on their way along the 
coast of Florida. 

The 15th day, they came to an anchor ; and so from 2^° 
to 30° 30' where the French abode, ranging all along the 
coast ; seeking for fresh water. Anchoring every night 
because we would overshoot no place of fresh water; and, in 
the day time, the Captain in the ship's pinnace sailing along 
the shore, went into every creek, speaking with divers of the 
Floridans, because he would understand where the French 
inhabited ; and not finding them in 28° as it was declared 
unto him, marvelled thereat : and never left sailing along the 
coast till he found them ; who inhabited in a river, by them 
called the River of May, standing in 30° and better. 

126 They find the French at River of May, [ 

? 1565. 

In ranging along this coast, the Captain found it to be all 
an island ; and therefore it is all low land, and very scant of 
fresh water ; but the country was marvellously sweet with 
both marsh and meadow ground, and goodly woods among. 
There they found sorrel to grow as abundantly as grass ; and, 
where their houses were, great store of maize and mill [millet], 
and grapes of great bigness, but of taste much like our 
English grapes. Also great plenty of deer, which came upon 
the sands before them. 

The houses are not many together ; for in one house, an 
hundred of them do lodge: they being made much like a great 
barn (and in strength not interior to ours, for they have 
stanchions and rafters of whole trees, and are covered with 
Palmito leaves) having no place divided, but one small room 
for their king [chief] and queen. 

In the midst of this house is a hearth, where they make 
great fires all night ; and the}^ sleep upon certain pieces of 
wood, hewn in for the bowing of their backs, and another 
place made high for their heads ; which they put, one by 
another, all along the walls on both sides. In their houses 
they remain only in the nights ; and in the day, they frequent 
the fields, where they dress their meat, and make provision 
for victuals ; which they provide only for a meal from hand 
to mouth. 

There is one thing to be marvelled at, the making of their 
fire ; and not only they, but the Negroes do the same: which 
is made only by two sticks, rubbing them one against another ; 
and this they may do, in any place they come [to], where 
they find sticks sufficient for the purpose. 

In their apparel, the men only use deer skins, wherewith 
some use the same as garments to cover them before and 
behind : which skins are painted, some yellow and red, some 
black and russet ; every man according to his own fancy. 

They do not omit to paint their bodies also with curious 
knots or antique work, as eveiy man, in his own fancy deviseth : 
which painting [tattooing], to make it continue the better, they 
use with a thorn to prick their flesh, and dent in the same, 
whereby the painting may have better hold. In their wars, 
they use a slighter colour of painting their faces, thereby to 
make themselves shew the more fierce ; which, after their 
wars ended, they wash away again. 


In their wars, they use bows and arrows, whereof their 
bows are made of a kind of yew, but blacker than ours ; and, 
for the most part, passing the strength of the Negroes or 
Indians, for it is not greatly inferior to ours. Their arrows art 
also of a great length, but yet of reeds, like other Indians : 
but varying in two points, both in length, and also for nocks 
and feathers, which the others lack; whereby they shoot very 
steady. The heads of the same are vipers' teeth, bones ol 
fishes, flint stones, piked points of knives which they having 
gotten of the Frenchmen, broke the same, and put the points 
of them in their arrows' heads. Some of them have their 
heads of silver; other some that have want ot these, put in 
a kind of hard wood, notched, which pierceth as far as any of 
the rest. 

In their fight, being in the woods, they use a marvellous 
policy for their own safeguard ; which is, by clasping a tree 
in their arms, and yet shooting notwithstanding. This policy 
they used with the Frenchmen in their fight ; whereby it ap- 
peareth that they are people of some policy : and al- 
though they are called by the Spaniards, Gente triste, that is 
to say, " Bad people," meaning thereby, that they are not 
men of capacity ; yet have the Frenchmen found them so 
witty in their answers, that by their Captain's own report, a 
Councillor with us could not give a more profound reason. 

The women, also, for their apparel use painted skins, but 
most of them gowns of moss, somewhat longer than our 
moss, which they sew together artificially, and make the same 
surplice wise : wearing their hair down to their shoulders, like 
the Indians. 

In this river of May aforesaid, the Captain entering with 
his pinnace, found a French ship of 80 tons; and two pinnaces, 
of 15 tons apiece, by her : and speaking with the keepers 
thereof, they told him of a fort, two leagues up, which they had 
built, in which their Captain, Monsieur Laudonniere was, 
with certain soldiers. 

To whom, our Captain sending to understand of a watering 
place, where he might conveniently take it in, and to have 
license for the same : he straight (because there was no con- 
venient place but up the river five leagues, where the water 
was fresh) did send him a pilot for the more expedition thereof, 

128 Soldiers, the worst of colonists. [ 


to bring in one of his barks ; which going in with other boats 
provided for the same purpose, anchored before the fort. Into 
the which, our Captain went ; where he was, by the General 
with other Captains and soldiers, very gently entertained : 
who declared unto him, the time of their being there, which 
was fourteen months [i.e., from May, 1564], with the extremity 
they were driven to for want of victuals, having brought very 
little with them. In which place they, being 200 men at their 
first coming, had, in short space, eaten all the maize they 
could buy of the inhabitants about them, and therefore 
were driven certain of them to serve a king [chief] of the 
Floridans against others his enemies, for mill [millet] and 
other victuals : which having got, could not serve them, being 
so many, so long a time. But want came upon them, in such 
sort, that they were fain to gather acorns, which being 
stamped small, and often washed to take away the bitterness 
of them, they did use for bread : eating withal sundry times 
roots, whereof they found many good and wholesome ; and 
such as serve rather for medicines than for meats alone. 

But this hardness, not contenting some of them (who would 
not take the pains so much as to fish in the river before 
their doors, but would have all things put into their mouths), 
they did rebel against the Captain ; taking away first Ws 
armour, and afterwards imprisoning him: and so, to the number 
of 80 of them, departed with a bark and a pinnace, spoiling 
their store of victuals, and taking away a great part thereof 
with them. And so went to the islands of Hispaniola and 
Jamaica a roving, where they spoiled and pilled [pillaged] 
the Spaniards, and having taken two caravels laden with wine 
and casavi (which is a bread made of roots) and much other 
victuals and treasure, had not the grace to depart therewith : 
but were of such haughty stomachs that they thought their 
force to be such that no man durst meddle with them, and so 
kept harbour in Jamaica, going daily ashore at their pleasure. 
But GOD which would not suffer such evil doers un- 
punished, did indurate their hearts in such sort, that they 
lingered the time so long that a ship and galleas, being made 
out of Santo Domingo, came thither into the harbour, and took 
twenty of them ; whereof the most part were hanged, and the 
rest carried into Spain : and some, to the number of five and 
twenty, escaped in the pinnace, and came to Florida ; where, 

, -565.] Hawkins's kindness to the French. 129 

at their landing, they were put in prison ; and, incontinent, 
four of the chiefest being condemned, at the request of the 
soldiers, did pass the harquebussiers, and then were hanged 
upon a gibbet. 

This lack of 60 men was a great discourage[ment] and 
weakening to the rest ; for they were the best soldiers that 
they had. For they had now made the inhabitants weary of 
them, by their daily craving of maize, having no wares left 
to content withal ; and therefore were enforced to rob them, 
and to take away their victuals perforce ; which was the oc- 
casion that the Floridans, not well contented therewith, did 
take certain of their company in the woods, and slew them ; 
whereby there grew great wars betwixt them and the French- 
men, and therefore they being but a few in number durst not 
venture abroad, but as such time as they were enforced there- 
unto for want of food to do the same. And going twenty 
harquebussiers in a company, were set upon by eighteen 
kings, having 700 or 800 men, which with one of their bows 
slew one of their men, and hurt a dozen, and drove them all 
down to their boats ; whose policy in fight was to be marvelled 
at, for having shot at divers of their bodies which were 
armed, and perceiving that their arrows did not prevail 
against the same, they shot at their faces and legs which 
were the places that the Frenchmen were hurt in. 

Thus, the Frenchmen returned, being in ill case by the hurt 
of their men, having not above 40 soldiers left unhurt ; 
whereby they might ill make any more invasions upon the 
Floridans, and keep their fort withal : which they must have 
been driven unto, had not GOD sent us thither for their 
succour. For they had not above ten days' victuals left 
before we came. 

In which perplexity, our Captain seeing them, spared them 
out of his ship twenty barrels of meal, and four pipes of beans ; 
with divers other victuals and necessaries which he might 
conveniently spare: and to help them the better homewards, 
whither they were bound, before our coming, at their request, 
we spared them [for 700 crowns] one of our barks of 50 tons. 

Notwithstanding the great want that the Frenchmen had, 
the ground doth yield victuals sufficient, if they would have 
taken pains to get the same ; but they being soldiers, 
desired to live by the sweat of other men's brows : for while 

ENC. G.IK. V, 9 

130 Glowing description of Florida. [ , ^565. 

they had peace with the Floridans, they had fish sufficient, 
by weirs which they made to catch the same ; but when they 
grew to wars, the Floridans took away the same again, and 
then would not the Frenchmen take the pains to make any 
more. The ground yieldeth naturally grapes in great store, 
for, in the time that the Frenchmen were there, they made 
twenty hogsheads of wine. Also it yieldeth roots passing 
good, deer in marvellous store, with divers other beasts and 
fowl [birds] serviceable to the use of man. These be things 
wherewith a man may live, having corn or maize wherewith 
to make bread ; for maize maketh good savoury bread, and 
cakes as tine as flour : also it maketh good meal, beaten and 
sodden with water, and eateth like pap wherewith we feed 
children. It maketh also good beverage, sodden in water, 
and nourishable : which the Frenchmen did use to drink of 
in the morning ; and it assuaged their thirst, so that they had 
no need to drink all the day after. And this maize was the 
greatest lack they had, because they had no labourers to sow 
the same ; and therefore to them that should inhabit the land 
it were requisite to have labourers to till and sow the ground. 
For they having victuals of their own, whereby they neither 
rob nor spoil the inhabitants, may live not only quietly with 
them, who naturally are more desirous of peace than of wars ; 
but also shall have abundance of victuals proffered them for 
nothing : for it is with them, as it is with one of us, when 
we see another man ever taking away from us, although 
we have enough besides, yet then we think all too little for 
ourselves. For surely we have heard the Frenchmen report, 
and I know it by the Indians, that a very little contenteth 
them : for the Indians, with the head of maize roasted, will 
travel a whole day ; and when they are, at the Spaniards' 
iinding [victualling], they give them nothing but sodden herbs 
and maize ; and, in this order, I saw [i.e., in the W. I.] 60 of 
them feed, who were laden with wares, and come fifty leagues 

The Floridans, when they travel, have a kind of herb dried, 
Tobacco, and who wlth 3. cauc and a earthen cup in the end, with 
thefeor'"""^ fire, and the dried herbs put together, do suck 
through the cane the smoke thereof; which smoke satisfieth 
their hunger, and therewith they live four or five days without 
meat or drink. And this all the Frenchmen used for this 

J 1565.] Verv early English notice of Tobacco. 131 

purpose; yet do they hold opinion withal, that it causeth 
water and phlegm to void from their stomachs. 

The commodities of this land are more than are yet known 
to any man. For besides the land itself, whereof there is 
more than any Christian king is able to inhabit, it flourisheth 
with meadow, pasture ground, with woods of cedar, Cyprus, 
and other sorts, as better cannot be in the world. They 
have for apothecary herbs, trees, roots, and gums in great 
store ; as sforax liqnida, turpentine, gum, myrrh, and frank- 
incense, with many others, whereof I know not the names : 
colours, red, black, 3'ellow, and russet, very perfect ; where- 
with they so paint their bodies, and deer-skins which they 
wear about them, that with water it neither fadeth away, 
nor altereth colour. 

Gold and silver they want not. For at the Frenchmen's 
first coming thither, they had the same offered them for little 
or nothing : for they received for a hatchet 2lbs. weight of 
gold, because they knew not the estimation thereof: but the 
soldiers being greedy of the same, did. take it from them, 
giving them nothing for it. The which they perceiving, that 
both the Frenchmen did greatly esteem it, and also did 
rigorously deal with them by taking the same away from 
them, at last would not be known they had any more, neither 
durst they wear the same for fear of i its] being taken away : 
so that saving at the first coming, they could get none 
of them. And how they came by this gold and silver the 
Frenchmen knew not as yet ; but by guess, some (having 
travelled to the south-west of the Cape, having found 
the same dangerous, by means of sundry banks, as we 
also have found the same : and the:e finding masts which 
were wrecks of Spaniards coming from Mexico) judged that 
they had gotten treasure by them. For it is most true that 
divers wrecks have been made of Spaniards, having much 
treasure. For the Frenchmen having travelled to the Cape- 
ward a 150 miles, did find two Spaniards with the Floridans, 
which they brought, after, to their fort ; whereof one was in 
a caravel coming from the Indies, which was cast away four- 
teen years ago [i.e., in 1551J and the other twelve years Jn 
1553] : of whose fellows, some escaped : other some were 
slain by the inhabitants. 

It seemeth they had estimation of their gold and silver, for 

132 T ^V O S P A X I S II CAST AWAY s. [ , -.65. 

it is wrought f^at and graven, which they wear about their 
necks : other some made round like a pancake, with a hole 
in the midst, to bolster up their breasts withal, because they 
think it a deformity to have great breasts. As for mines, 
either of gold or silver, the Frenchmen can hear of none they 
have upon the island ; but of copper whereof, as yet, they have 
not made the proof, because they were but few men. But it 
is not unlike[ly], but that in the main[land] where are high 
hills, may be gold and silver as well as in Mexico, because it 
is all one main[land]. 

The Frenchmen obtained pearls of them, of great black- 
ness, but they were black, by means of roasting of them; for 
they do not fish for them as the Spaniards do, but for their 
meat. For the Spaniards used to keep daily afishing some 
two or three hundred Indians, some of them that be of choice 
a thousand : and their order is to go in canoes or rather great 
pinnaces, with thirty men in apiece ; whereof the one half or 
most part be divers, the rest do open the same for the pearls, 
for it is not suffered that they should use dragging, for 
that would bring them out of estimation, and mar the beds 
of them. 

The oysters which have the smallest sort of pearls are 
found in seven or eight fathoms of water, but the greatest in 
eleven or twelve fathoms. 

The Floridans have pieces of unicorn horns [? bear's claws], 
which they wear about their necks, whereof the Frenchmen 
Unicorn's obtaiucd mauv picccs. Of those unicorns they have 
the inhabitants many,forthat they do affirm it to be a beast with one 
/«";«Lfr'' horn, which coming to the river to drink, putteth 
the same into the water before he drinketh. Of this unicorn's 
horn, there are of our company, that having gotten the same 
of the Frenchmen, brought home thereof to show. 

It is therefore to be presupposed that there are more com- 
modities as well as that, which, for want of time, and people 
sufficient to inhabit of the same, cannot yet come to light ; 
but I trust GOD will reveal the same before it be long, to 
the great profit of them that shall take it in hand. 

Of beasts in the country, besides deers, hares, polecats, 
conies, ounces, and leopards, I am not able certainly to say ; 
but it is thought that there are lions and tigers as well as 
unicorns. Lions especially, if it be true that is said of the 

, -,56..] The Fauna of Florida. 133 

emnity between them and the unicorns. For there is no beast 
but hath his enemy, as the cony [the rabbit], the polecat ; a 
sheep, the wolf; the elephant, the rhinoceros; and so of 
other beasts the like : insomuch that whereas the one is, the 
other cannot be missing. 

And seeing I have made mention of the beasts of this 
country, it shall not be from my purpose to speak also ot the 
venomous beasts ; as crocodiles, whereof there is great abun- 
dance, adders of great bigness, whereof our men killed some of 
a yard and a half long. Also I heard a miracle of one of 
these adders, upon the which a falcon seizing the said adder, 
[it] did clasp her tail upon her, which the French Captain 
seeing, came to the rescue of the falcon, and took her flaying 
the adder: and this falcon being wild, he did reclaim her, 
and kept her, for the space of two months ; at which time, 
for very want of meat, he was fain to cast her off. On these 
adders, the French did feed, to the no little admiration 
[wonderment] of us ; and affirmed the same to be a delicate 
meal. And the Captain of the Frenchmen saw also a serpent 
with three heads and four feet, of the bigness of a great 
spaniel; which, for want of a harquebuss, he durst not 
attempt to slay. 

Of fish, also, they have in the river, pike, roTalch, salmon, 
trout, and divers other small fishes ; and of great fish, some 
of the length of a man and longer, being of bigness accor- 
dingly, having a snout much like a sword, of a yard long. 

There be also of sea fishes, which we saw coming along the 
coast, flying : which were of the bigness of a smelt ; the 
biggest whereof have four wings, but the others have but 
two. Of these, we saw coming out of Guinea a hundred in 
a company, which being chased by the " gilt-heads," other- 
wise called the bonitos, do to avoid them the better, take their 
flight out of the water ; but yet are they not able to fly far 
because of the drying of their wings, which serve them not to 
fly but when they are moist : and therefore when they can fly 
no further, they fall into the water, and having wet their 
wings, take a new flight again. These bonitos be of bigness 
like a carp, and in colour like a mackerel ; but it is the 
swiftest fish in swimming that is, and followeth her prey very 
fiercely, not only in the water, but also out of the water ; for as 
the flying fish taketh her flight, so doth this bonito leap after 

134 Early description of Flying Fishes. [ , '.g.. 

them, and taketh them sometimes above the water. There 
were some of those bonitos which, being galled by a fisgig, 
did follow our ship, coming out of Guinea, 500 leagues. 
There is a sea fowl also that chaseth this flying fish as well 
as the honiio ; for as the flying fish taketh her flight, so doth 
this fowl pursue to take her : which to behold is a greater 
pleasure than hawking, for both the flights are as pleasant, 
and also more often by a hundred times ; for the fowl 
can fly no way, but one or other lighteth in her paws, the 
number of them is so abundant. There is an innumerable 
young fry of these flying fishes which commonly keep about 
the ship, and are not so big as butterflies, and yet by flying, 
do avoid the insatiableness of the honito. Of the bigger sort 
of these fishes, we took many, which, both day and night, 
flew into the sails of our ship ; and there was not one of 
them which was not worth a honito : for being put upon a 
hook drabbling in the water, the bonito would leap thereat, 
and so was taken. Also we took many with a white cloth 
made fast to a hook, which being tied so short in the water 
that it might leap out and in, the greedy honito thinking it to 
be a flying fish leapeth thereat, and so is deceived. 

We took also dolphins, which are of very goodly colour 
and proportion to behold ; and no less delicate in taste. 

Fowls also there be many, both upon land and upon sea ; 
but concerning them on the land, I am not able to name 
them, because my abode there was so short. But for the 
fowl of the fresh rivers, these two I noted to be the chief : 
whereof the Flamingo is one, having all red feathers, and 
long red legs like the heme [heron] , a neck according to the 
bill, red, whereof the upper neb [i.e., of the beak] hangeth an 
inch over the nether ; and an Egript, which is all white as 
the swan, with legs like to an hearneshewe [heronshaw] and of 
bigness accordingly, but it hath in her tail feathers of so fine 
a plume, that it passeth the estridge [ostrich] his feather. 

Of the sea fowl, above all others not common in England, 
I noted the Pelican, which is feigned to be the lovingest bird 
that is ; which rather than her young should want, will spare 
her heart's blood out of her belly : but, for all this lovingness, 
she is very deformed to behold. For she is of russet colour 
(notwithstanding, in Guinea, I had seen of them as white as 
a swan) having legs like the same, and a body like a heme 

, -jgjj Cattle are the hope of Florida. 135 

[heron], with a long neck; and a thick long beak, from the 
nether jaw whereof, down to the breast, passeth a skin of 
such bigness as is able to receive a fish as big as a man's 
thigh : and thus her big throat and long bill doth make her 
seem so ugly. 

Here I have declared the estate of Florida, and the com- 
modities therein, to this day known ! which although it may 
seem unto some by the means, that the plenty of gold and 
silver is not so abundant as in other places, that the cost 
bestowed on the same will not be able to quit [clear] the 
charges ; yet am I of the opinion by that which I have seen 
in other islands of the Indies (where such increase of cattle 
hath been, that of twelve beasts, in five and twenty years, 
did, in the hides of them, raise a £1,000 [=£8,000 now] profit 
}early) that the increase of cattle only [alone] would raise 
profit sufficient for the same. For we may consider, if so 
small a portion did raise so much gain in so short a time, 
what would a greater do, in many years ? And surely I may 
affirm this, that the ground of the Indies, for the breed^ingi 
of cattle, is not, in any point, to be compared with this of 
Florida ; which is as green, all the year long, as it is any 
time, in the summer, with us : which surely is not to be 
marvelled at, seeing the country standeth in so watery a 
climate. For once a day, without fail, they have a shower 
of rain ; which, by means of the country itself (which is dry, 
and more fervent[ly] hot than ours) doth make all things to 
flourish therein. And because there is not there the thing 
which we all seek for, being rather desirous of present gains ; 
I do therefore afiirm the attempt thereof to be more requisite 
for a Prince : who is of power able to go through with the 
same, rather than for any subject. 

From thence, we departed, the 28th July, upon our voyage 
homewards ; having there all things as might be most con- 
venient for our purpose : and took leave of the Frenchmen 
that still remained there ; who determined, with diligence, 
to make so great speed after, as they could. 

Then, by means of contrary winds, we prolonged our 
voyage in such manner, that victuals scanted with us ; so 
that we were, divers times, or rather the most part, in de- 

136 Safely reach home, by Newfoundland. [ , ;.^5. 

spair of ever coming home : had not GOD, of His goodness, 
better provided for us, than our deserving. In which state 
of great misery, we were provoked to call upon Him, by 
fervent prayer ; which moved Him to hear us : so that we 
had a prosperous wind, which did set [send] us so far shot 
[ahead] as to be on the Bank of Newfoundland on St. 
Bartholomew's Eve [z^rd Augtist] ; and we sounded there- 
upon, finding ground at 130 fathoms. And being that day 
somewhat becalmed, we took a great number ol fresh codfish, 
which greatly relieved us: and, being very glad thereof, the 
next day [24^/1 August] we departed} and had lingering little 
gales for the space of four or five days. At the end of which 
[? 2gth August] we saw a couple of French ships, and had of 
them so much fish as would serve us plentifully for all the 
rest of the way : the Captain paying for the same, both gold 
and silver, to the just value thereof, unto the chief owners of 
the said ships ; but they, not looking for anything at all, 
were glad in themselves, to meet with such good entertain- 
ment at sea as they had at our hands. 

After which departure from them, with a good large wind, 
we came, the 20th of September [1565], to Padstow in Corn- 
wall, GOD be thanked ! in safety : with the loss of twenty 
persons in all the voyage ; as with great profit to the 
Venturers of the said voyage, so also to the whole realm, in 
bringing home both gold, silver, pearls, and other 
jewels in great store. His name therefore 
be praised, for evermore 1 Amen, 

Nosce teipsum! 

T'his Oracle expounded in two 

1. Of Human Knowledge. 

2. Of the Soul of Man, and the Immor- 

tality thereof. 


Printed by Richard Field, for John Stan dish 


[This work was thus registered for publication at Stationers' Hall : 
10 Spring [1599^. 
John Standyshe. Entredfor his copie A booke called Nosce Teipsum 
The oracle expounded in two Elegies, j. of human 
kno\w'\ledge. 2. of the soule of Man and thl/] itn- 
niortality thereof 
Master Ponsonbyes This is aucthorised vnder the hand of the L[ord] 
\the junior Warden Bysshop of London provyed that yt must not be 
at the time\ hand is printed without his L[ordships] hand to yt again. 

to yt. Transcript Is'c. iii. 142. Ed. 1876. 




most gracious 


THAT clear Majesty ! which in the North, 
Doth like another sun in glory rise; 
Which siandethfixt, yet spreads her heavenly worth 
Loadstone to hearts, and loadstar to all eyes : 

Like heaven in all; like the earth in this alone, 

That though great States by her support do staitd^ 
Yet she herself supported is of none, 
But by the finger of th' Almighty s hand: 

To the divinest and the richest Mind! 

Both by Arfs purchase, and by Nature's dower , 
That ever was from heaven to earth confined, 
To shew the utmost of a creature's power : 

To that great Spirit ! which doth great kingdoms move ! 
The sacred spring, whence Right and Honour streams, 
Distilling Virtue, shedding Peace and Love 
In every place, as Cynthia sheds her beams : 

I offer up some sparkles of that fire, 

Whereby we Reason, Live, and Move, and Be. 
These sparks, by nature, evermore aspire; 
Which makes them to so high a Highness fiee. 

140 SJDedication to Queen Elizabeth. ^Vh^^uS'i\ 

Fair Soul ! since to the fairest body knit, 

You give such lively life, such quick'ning power. 

Such sweet celestial influence to it 

As keeps it still in youth's immortal /lower ; 

(As where the sun is present all the year. 
And never doth retire his golden ray, 4 
Needs must the Spring be everlasting there! 
And every season, like the month of May !) 

many, many years, may you remain 
A happy Angel to this happy land ! 
Long ! long, may you on earth our Empress reign ! 
Ere you in heaven, a glorious angel stand. 

Stay long, sweet Spirit ! ere thou to heaven depart. 
Which mak'st each place a heaven, wherein thou art. 

Her Majesty's least and unicorthicst subject, 
John D a v i e s . 


Of Human Knowledge. 

Hy did my parents send me to the Schools, 
That I with knowledge might enrich my 

mind ?/ 
Since the Desire to Know first made men 

And did corrupt the root of all mankind ! 

For when GOD's hand had written in the 
Of the First Parents, all the rules of good ; 
So that their skill infused, did pass all Arts 
That ever were, before, or since the Flood ; 

And when their Reason's eye was sharp and clear, 
And, as an eagle can behold the sun, 
Could have approached the Eternal Light as near 
As th'intellectual angels could have done : 

Even then, to them the Spirit of Lies suggests 

That they were blind, because they saw not 111 ; 
And breathes into their incorrupted breasts, 
A curious Wish, which did corrupt their Will. 

For that same 111, they straight desired to know! 
Which 111 (being nought but a defect of Good); 
In all GOD's works, the Devil could not show, 
While Man, their Lord, in his perfection stood. 

rSir J. Daviei 


142 [Human Knowledge.] Nosce teipsum f \^^l^^^] 

So that themselves were first to do the 111, 

Ere they thereof, the knowledge could attain ! 
Like him, that knew not poison's power to kill, 
Until, by tasting it, himself was slain. 

Even so, by tasting of that fruit forbid, 

Where they sought Knowledge, they did Error find ! 
Ill they desired to know ; and 111, they did ! 
And to give Passion eyes, made Reason blind ! 

For then, their minds did first in Passion see. 
Those wretched Shapes of Misery and Woe, 
Of Nakedness, of Shame, of Poverty, 
Which then, their own experience made them know. 

But then grew Reason dark, that she, no more, 

Could the fair forms of Good and Truth discern : 
Bats they became ! that eagles were before ; 
And this they got by their Desire to Learn ! 

But we, their wretched offspring ! what do we ? 
Do not we still taste of the fruit forbid ? 
Whiles, with fond fruitless curiosity, 
In books profane, we seek for knowledge hid ? 

What is this Knowledge ? but the sky-stolen fire, 
For which the Thief still chained in ice doth sit ! 
And which the poor rude Satyr did admire. 
And needs would kiss, but burnt his lips with it ! 

What is it ? but the cloud of empty rain. 

Which when Jove's guest embraced, he monsters got ! 
Or the false pails, which oft being filled with pain, 
. Received the water, but retained it not ! 

Shortly, what is it ? but the fiery Coach 

Which the Youth sought, and sought his death withal ! 
Or the Boy's wings, which when he did approach 
The sun's hot beams, did melt, and let him fall ! 

^I'ApnrVs'gg-] [^^^^^^ Knowledge.] Nosce teipsum ! 143 

And 3'et, alas, when all our lamps are burned, 
Our bodies wasted, and our spirits spent ; 
When we have all the learned volumes turned. 
Which yield men's wits, both help and ornament: 

What can we know ? or what can we discern ? 

When Error chokes the windows of the Mind ; 
The divers Forms of things, how can we learn, 
That have been, ever from our birthday, blind ? 

When Reason's lamp (which, like the sun in sky, 

Throughout man's little world, her beams did spread) 
Is now become a Sparkle ; which doth lie 
Under the ashes, half extinct, and dead. 

How can we hope, that through the E3'e and Ear, 
This dying Sparkle, in this cloudy place, 
Can re-collect these beams of knowledge clear, 
Which were infused in the first minds, by grace ? 

So might the heir, whose father hath, in play. 
Wasted a thousand pounds of ancient rent. 
By painful earning of one groat a day, 
Hope to restore the patrimony spent. 

The wits that dived most deep, and soared most high. 

Seeking man's powers, have found his weakness such ; 
" Skill comes so slow ! and life so fast doth fly ! " 
*' We learn so little, and forget so much ! " 

For this, the wisest of all moral men 

Said, He knew nought, but that he nought did know ! 
And the great mocking Master, mocked not then, 
When he said. Truth was buried deep below ! 

For how may we, to other's things attain. 

When none of us, his own Soul understands? 
For which, the Devil mocks our curious brain. 
When, Know thyself ! his oracle commands. 

144 [Human Knowledge.'] Nosce teipsum ! piprY^j; 



For why should we the husy Soul believe, 

When boldly she concludes of that and this? 
When of herself, she can no judgement give ; 
Nor How, nor Whence, nor Where, nor What she is ! 

All things without, which round about we see, 
We seek to know, and have therewith to do ; 
But that, whereby we Reason, Live, and Be, 
Within ourselves, we strangers are thereto ! 

We seek to know the moving of each sphere, 

And the strange cause of th'ebbs and floods of Nile . 
But of that Clock which in our breasts we bear, 
The subtle motions we forget the while ! 

We that acquaint ourselves with every zone, 

And pass both tropics, and behold both poles ; 
When we come home, are to ourselves unknown 
And unacquainted still, with our own souls ! 

We study Speech, but others we persuade ! 

We Leechcraft learn, but others cure with it ! 
We interpret Laws, which other men have made ; 
But read not those, which in our hearts are writ ! 

Is it because the Mind is like the Eye, 

(Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees) 
Whose rays reflect not, but spread outwardly ; 
Not seeing itself, when other things it sees ? 

No, doubtless ! for the Mind can backward cast 
Upon herself, her understanding light ; 
But she is so corrupt, and so defac't, 
As her own image doth herself affright. 

As is thefable of that Lady fair, 

Which, for her lust, was turned into a cow; 

When thirsty, to a stream, she did repair. 

And saw herself transformed (she wist not how !) 

?''aphi7s99.] [Human Knowledge.] Nosce teipsum ! 145 

At first, she startles ! then, she stands amazed ! 
At last, with terror, she from thence doth fly ! 
And loathes the wat'ry glass wherein she gazed ! 
And shuns it still, though she for thirst do die ! 

Even so, Man's Soul, which did God's Image hear, 
And was, at first, fair, good, and spotless pure ; 
Since with her sins, her beauties blotted were, 
Doth, of all sights, her own sight least endure ! 

For even, at first reflection, she espies 

Such strange Chimeras and such monsters there ! 
Such toys ! such antics ! and such vanities ! 
As she retires, and shrinks for shame and fear. 

And as the man loves least at home to be, 

That hath a sluttish house, haunted with sprites; 

So she, impatient her own faults, to see. 

Turns from herself, and in strange things delights. 

For this, few know themselves ! for merchants broke, 
View their estate with discontent and pain; 
And seas are troubled, when they do revoke 
Their flowing waves into themselves again. 

And while the face of outward things we find, 
Pleasing and fair, agreeable and sweet ; 
These things transport and carry out the mind, 
That with herself, herself can never meet. 

Yet if Affliction once her wars begin. 

And threat the feeble Sense with sword and fire ; 
The Mind contracts herself, and shrinketh in, 
And to herself she gladly doth retire, 

As spiders touched, seek their web's inmost part; 
As bees in storms, unto their hives return ; 
As blood in danger, gathers to the heart ; 
And men seek towns, when foes the country burn. 

Ei^G. Gar. V. 10 

146 [Human Knowledge.] Nosce tetpsum ! pip^n^S 

If ought can teach us ought, Affliction's looks 
(Making us look into ourselves so near) 
Teach us to know ourselves, beyond all books ! 
Or all the learned Schools that ever were ! 

This Mistress, lately, plucked me by the ear, 
And many a golden lesson hath me taught ! 
Hath made my Senses quick, and Reason clear ! 
Reformed my Will, and rectified my Thought I 

So do the winds and thunders cleanse the air ! 
So working seas settle and purge the wine ! 
So lopt and pruned trees do flourish fair I 
So doth the fire the drossy gold refine ! 

Neither Minerva, nor the learned Muse, 

Nor Rules of Art, nor Precepts of the Wise, 
Could in my brain, those beams of skill infuse, 
As but the glance of this Dame's angry eyes. 

She, within lists, my ranging mind hath brought, 
That now beyond myself I list not go ! 
Myself am Centre of my circling thought 1 
Only Myself, I stud}^ learn, and know ! 

I know my Body's of so frail a kind, 

As force without, fevers within, can kill ! 
I know the heavenly nature of my Mind ; 
But 'tis corrupted, both in Wit and Will ! 

I know my Soul hath power to know all things. 
Yet is she blind and ignorant in all ! 
I know I am one of Nature's little kings. 
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall ! 

I know my Life's a pain, and but a span ! 

I know my Sense is mocked with every thing ! 
And to conclude, I know myself a Man ; 
Which is a proud, and yet a wretched thing ! 


Of the Soul of Man ; 

and the Immortality thereof. 

He Lights of Heaven, which are the world's 

fair eyes, 
Look down into the world, the world to 

see ; 
And as they turn, or wander in the skies, 
Survey all things, that on this Centre be. 

And yet the Lights which in my Tower do 
Mine Eyes ! (which view all objects, nigh and far) 
Look not into this little world of mine. 
Nor see my face, wherein they fixed are. 

Since Nature fails us in no needful thing; 

Why want I means, mine inward self to see ? 
Which sight, the Knowledge of Myself might bring ; 
Which, to true wisdom, is the first degree. 

That Power (which gave me eyes, the world to view) 
To view myself, infused an Inward Light, 
Whereby my Soul, as by a Mirror true. 
Of her own form, may take a perfect sight. 

But as the sharpest Eye discerneth nought, 
Except the sunbeams in the air do shine ; 
So the best Soul, with her reflecting thought, 
Sees not herself, without some light Divine. 

148 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! \J''^l^r^s^. 

O LIGHT ! (which makest the Light, which makest the Day ; 
Which settest the Eye without, and Mind within) 
Lighten my spirit, with one clear heavenly ray ! 
Which now to view itself, doth first begin. 

For her true form, how can my Spark discern ? 
Which dim by Nature, Art did never clear ; 
When the great wits, of whom all skill we learn, 
Are ignorant, both What She is ! and Where 1 

One thinks the Soul is Air ! another. Fire ! 
Another, Blood diffused about the heart! 
Another saith, the Elements conspire, 
And to her Essence, each doth give a part ! 

Musicians think our Souls are Harmonies! 

Physicians hold that they Complexions be ! 
Epicures make them Swarms of Atomies, 
Which do, by change, into our bodies flee ! 

Some think one General Soul fills every brain, 
As the bright sun sheds light in every star 1 
And others think the name of Soul is vain, 
And that We, only Well-mixed Bodies are ! 

In judgement of her Substance, thus they vary ; 
And thus they vary in judgement of her Seat ! 
For some, her chair up to the Brain do carry ! 
Some thrust it down into the Stomach's heat ! 

Some place it in the root of life, the Heart ! 
Some, in the Liver, fountain of the veins ! 
Some say, " She is all in all, and all in part! " 
Some say, " She is not contained, but all contains! " 

Thus these great Clerks their little wisdom show, 

While with their doctrines, they at hazard play ; 

Tossing their light opinions to and fro, 

To mock the lewd ; as learned in this, as they ! 

^t^ApriiTigg-] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum ! 149 

For no crazed brain could ever yet propound, 

Touching the Soul, so vain and fond a thought ; 
But some among these Masters, have been found, 
Which in their Schools, the selfsame thing have taught, 

GOD, only- Wise ! to punish Pride of Wit, 

Among men's wits hath this confusion wrought ! 
As the proud Tower, whose points the clouds did hit, 
By Tongues' Confusion, was to ruin brought. 

But, Thou ! which didst Man's Soul, of nothing make ! 
And when to nothing, it was fallen again ; 
To make it new, the Form of Man didst take ! 
And, GOD with GOD, becam'st a Man with men ! 

Thou ! that hast fashioned twice, this Soul of ours. 
So that She is, by double title. Thine ! 
Thou, only, knowest her nature and her powers ! 
Her subtle form. Thou, only, canst define ! 

To judge herself. She must herself transcend ! 
As greater circles comprehend the less ; 
. But She wants power, her own powers to extend ! 
As fettered men cannot their strength express. 

But Thou, bright morning Star ! Thou, rising Sun ! 
Which, in these later times, has brought to light 
Those mysteries, that, since the world began. 
Lay hid in darkness and eternal night ! 

Thou, like the sun, doth with indifferent ray, 
Into the palace and the cottage shine ! 
And showest the Soul, both to the Clerk and Lay, 
By the clear Lamp of thy Oracle Divine ! 

This Lamp, through all the regions of my brain, 

Where my Soul sits, doth spread such beams of grace ! 
As now, methinks ! I do distinguish plain 
Each subtle line of her immortal face ! 

I50 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! pip,?,Y;t 


The Soul, a Substance and a Spirit is, 
What the Which GOD Himself doth in the body make ! 
Soul IS? Which makes the Man ! for every man, from this, 
The Nature of a man, and Name doth take. 

And though the Spirit be to the Body knit. 
As an apt means her powers to exercise ; 
Which are Life, Motion, Sense, and Will, and Wit: 
Yet she survives, although the Body dies. 

That the g^g jg g. Substance, and a real thing ! 
thing'su%- I. Which hath, itself, an actual working Might, 
useif.whh- 2. Which neither from the Sense's power doth spring, 
iTody^ 3' No'' from the Body's humours tempered right. 

She is a Vine, which doth no propping need. 

To make her spread herself, or spring upright ! 
She is a Star, whose beams do not proceed 
From any sun, but from a native light I 

That'the ^o'^ when She sorts things present with the past, 
Soul hath a And thereby things to come doth oft foresee ; 

operation, When Shc doth doubt at first, and choose at 

without the 1 o cf • 

Body. laSl . 

These acts her own, without the Body, be ! 

When of the dew, which the Eye and Ear do take. 
From flowers abroad, and loring into the brain; 
She doth, within, both wax and honey make : 
This work is hers ! This is her proper pain ! 

When She from sundry acts, one Skill doth draw ; 
Gathering from divers fights, one Art of War ; 
From many Cases like, one Rule of Law : 
These, her collections, not the Sense's, are ! 

^ApruTsS [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 151 

When in th'Effects, She doth the Causes know; 

And seeing the stream, thinks where the spring doth 

rise ; 
And seeing the branch, conceives the root below : 
These things She views, without the Body's eyes ! 

When She, without a Pegasus, doth fly 

Swifter than lightning's fire, from East to West ; 
About the Centre, and above the Sky : 
She travels then, although the Body rest ! 

When all her works" She formeth first within ; 
Proportions them, and sees their perfect end, 
Ere She in act, doth any part begin : 
What instruments doth then, the Body lend ? 

When without hands, She thus doth castles build ; 
Sees without eyes, and without feet doth run ; 
When She digests the world, yet "is not filled : 
By her own power, these miracles are done I 

When She defines, argues, divides, compounds ; 
Considers Virtue, Vice, and General Things ; 
And marrying diverse principles and grounds, 
Out of their match, a true conclusion brings : 

These actions, in her closet, all alone, 

(Retired within herself) She doth fulfil ! 
Use of her Body's organs, She hath none, 
When She doth use the powers of Wit and Will ! 

Yet in the Body's prison, so She lies, 

As through the Body's windows She must look ! 

Her divers powers of Sense to exercise, 

By gathering notes out of the world's great book. 

Nor can herself discourse, or judge of ought, 

But what the Sense collects, and home doth bring ! 
And yet the Power of her discoursing Thought, 
From these Collections, is a diverse thing. 

152 [The Soul OF Man.] Nosce teifsum! \J';J:^r. 

For though our eyes can nought but colours see, 

Yet colours give them not their Power of Sight ! 
So, though these fruits of Sense, her objects be, 
Yet She discerns them by her proper light. 

The workman on his stuff, his skill doth shew, 
And yet the stuff gives not the man his skill ! 
Kings, their affairs, do, by their servants know, 
But order them by their own royal will ! 

So though this cunning Mistress, and this Queen 
Doth, as her instruments, the Senses use, 
To know all things that are Felt, Heard, or Seen ; 
Yet She herself doth only Judge and Choose ! 

Even as our great wise Empress (that now reigns 
By sovereign title over sundry lands) 
Borrows, in mean affairs, her subjects' pains ; 
Sees by their eyes, and writeth by their hands : 

But things of weight and consequence indeed, 
Herself doth in her chamber them debate ; 
Where, all her Councillors she doth exceed 
As far in judgement, as she doth in State. 

Or as the man, whom she doth now advance, 
Upon her gracious Mercy Seat to sit. 
Doth common things, of course and circumstance, 
To the Reports of common men commit : 

But when the Cause itself must be decreed, 
Himself in person, in his proper Court, 
To grave and solemn hearing doth proceed, 
Of every proof, and every by-report. 

Then, like God's angel, he pronounceth right, 

And milk and honey from his tongue do flow : 
Happy are they, that still are in his sight ! 
To reap the wisdom, which his lips do sow. 



^S'apKS [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 153 

Right so, the Soul, which is a Lady free, 

And doth the justice of her State maintain ; 
Because the Senses, ready servants be, 
Attending nigh about her Court, the Brain ; 

By them, the forms of outward things She learns, 
For they return unto the Fantasy, 
Whatever each of them abroad discerns; 
And there enrol it for the Mind to see. 

But when She sits to judge the good and ill, 
And to discern betwixt the false and true ; 
She is not guided by the Senses' skill, 
But doth each thing in her own mirror view. 

Then She the Senses checks ! which oft do err. 
And even against their false reports, decrees ! 
And oft She doth condemn, what they prefer! 
For with a power above the Sense, She sees : 

Therefore, no Sense, the precious joys conceives, 
Which in her private contemplations be ; 
For then, the ravished Spirit, the Senses leaves, 
Hath her own powers, and proper actions free. 

Her harmonies are sweet and full of skill. 

When on the Body's instrument She plays ! 
But the proportions of the Wit and Will, 
Those sweet accords are even the angels' lays ! 

These tunes of Reason are Amphion's lyre. 
Wherewith he did the Theban city found ! 
These are the notes, wherewith the heavenly Quire, 
The praiseof Him, which spreads thcheaven, dotii sound! 

Then her self-being nature shines in this. 

That She performs her noblest works alone ! 
"The work, the touchstone of the nature is ! " 
And " by their operations, things are known !" 

154 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum ! pip.'ilTi": 

That^'the ^'^^ ^^^y "°^ senseless then ! that think the Soul 
Soul is Nought but a fine perfection of the Sense ! 

aperflc^" Of of the forms which Fancy doth enrol, 

flec"tionoT A quick Resulting, and a Consequence! 

the Sense. 

What is it, then, that doth the Sense accuse, 

Both of false judgements, and fond appetites ? 
Which makes us do, what Sense doth most refuse ? 
Which oft, in torment of the Sense delights ? 

Sense thinks the planets' spheres not much asunder; 
What tells us, then, their distance is so far? 
Sense thinks the lightning born before the thunder, 
What tells us, then, they both together are ? 

When men seem crows, far off upon a tower ; 

Sense saith, " They are crows !" What makes us think 

them men ? 
When we, in agues, think all sweet things sour ; 
What makesusknowourtongue's false judgements then ? 

What power was that, whereby Medea saw, 

And well approved and praised the better course, 
When her rebellious Sense did so withdraw 
Her feeble powers, as she pursued the worst ? 

Did Sense persuade Ulysses not to hear 

The Mermaid's songs ? which so his men did please, 
As they were all persuaded through the ear. 
To quit the ship, and leap into the seas. 

Could any power of Sense the Roman move. 

To burn his own right hand, with courage stout ? 
Could Sense make Marius sit unbound, and prove 
The cruel lancing of the knotty gout ? 

Doubtless in Man, there is a Nature found 
Beside the senses, and above them far ! 
Though " most men being in sensual pleasures drowned. 
It seems their souls but in their senses are !" 

^i'ipruYsS:] ['^"E Soul of Man.] Nosce Teipsum ! 155 

If we had nought but sense, then only they 

Should have sound minds, which have their senses sound ; 
But Wisdom grows, when senses do decay ! 
And Folly most, in quickest sense is found 1 

If we had nought but Sense, each living wight. 

Which we call brute, would be more sharp than we ! 
As having Sense's apprehensive might 
In a more clear and excellent degree. 

But they do want that quick discoursing Power, 
Which doth, in iis, the erring Sense correct: 
Therefore the bee did suck the painted flower ! 
And birds, of grapes the cunning shadow peckt ! 

Sense, outsides knows ! the Soul, through all things sees ! 
Sense, circumstance ! She doth, the substance view ! 
Sense sees the bark ! but She, the life of trees 1 
Sense hears the sounds ! but She, the concords true ! 

But why do I the Soul and Sense divide ? 

When Sense is but a power, which She extends ! 
Which being in divers parts diversified. 
The divers Forms of objects apprehends ? 


power spreads outward ; but the root doth grow 
In th'inward Soul, which only doth perceive ! 
For the Eyes and Ears, no more their objects know, 
Than glasses know what faces they receive 1 

For if we chance to fix our thoughts elsewhere ; 
Although our eyes be ope, we do not see ! 
And if one Power did not both see and hear. 
Our sights and sounds would always double be I 

Then is the Soul a Nature which contains 

The power of Sense within a greater power ! 
Which doth employ and use the senses' pains ; 
But sits and rules within her private bower! 


156 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! pip^A' 


sJunf* If She doth then the subtle Sense excel, 
more than How gross EFC thcy, that drown her in the blood ! 

peratur'^ Or in thc Body's humours tempered well ! 

Humoursof As if in them, such high perfection stood. 

the Body. 

As if most skill in that musician were, 

Which had the best and best-tuned instrument ! 
As if the pencil neat, and colours clear 
Had power to make the painter excellent 

Why doth not Beauty then refine the Wit ? 
And good Complexion rectify the Will ? 
Why doth not Health bring Wisdom still with it ? 
Why doth not Sickness make men brutish still ? 

Who can in Memory, or Wit, or Will ; 

Or Air ! or Fire ! or Earth ! or Water find ! 
What alchemist can draw, with all his skill, 
The Quintessence of these, out of the Mind ? 

If th'Elements (which have, nor Life, nor Sense) 
Can breed in us so great a power as this ! 
Why give they not themselves, like excellence, 
Or other things wherein their mixture is ? 

If She were but the Body's quality 

Then would She be, with it, sick ! maimed ! and blind ! 
But we perceive, when these privations be, 
A healthy, perfect, and sharp-sighted Mind ! 

If She, the Body's nature did partake. 

Her strength would, with the Body's strength decay ; 
But when the Body's strongest sinews slake. 
Then is the Soul most active ! quick ! and gay 1 

If She were but the Body's accident, 
And her sole Being did in it subsist 
As white in snow ; She might herself absent ! 
And in the Body's substance not the mist. 

^i'ipriuS] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipslm ! 157 

But it on Her ! not She on it depends ! 

For She the Body doth sustain and cherish. 
Such secret powers of Hfe to it, She lends ; 
That when they fail, then doth the Body perish ! 

Since, then, the Soul works by herself alone. 

Springs not from Sense, nor Humours well agreeing; 

Her nature is peculiar, and her own. 

She is a Substance 1 and a Perfect Being ! 

But though this Substance be the root of Sense, 

That the Sense knows" her not! (which doth but bodies know) 

Spirit' ^ She is a Spirit, and a heavenly influence ; 

Which from the fountain of GOD's Spirit doth flow. 

She is a Spirit ; yet not like air, or wind ! 

Nor like the spirits about the heart or brain ! 
Nor like those spirits which alchemists do find, 
When they, in everything, seek gold, in vain ! 

For She, all natures under heaven doth pass; 

Being like those spirits, which GOD's bright face do see ! 
Or like Himself! whose Image once She was, 
Though now, alas, She scarce his Shadow be. 

Yet of the forms. She holds the first degree, 
That are to gross material bodies knit ; 
Yet She herself is bodiless and free ! 
And, though confined, is almost infinite 1 

Were She a Body, how could She remain 
That it Within this body, which is less than She ? 
niouV-''^ Or how could She, the world's great shape contain ; 
And in our narrow breasts contained be ? 

All bodies are confined within some place ; 
But She all place within herself confines 1 
All bodies have their measure and their space ; 
But who can draw the Soul's dimensive lines ? 

158 [The Soul of Man.J Nosce teifslm ! RipS^t, 

No Body can, at once, two forms admit, 
Except the one, the other do deface ; 
But in the Soul, ten thousand forms do sit, 
And none intrudes into her neighbour's place ! 

All bodies are, with other bodies filled, 

But She receives both heaven and earth together! 
Nor are their Forms, by rash encounter, spilled, 
For there they stand, and neither toucheth either ! 

Nor can her wide embracements filled be ! 

For they that most and greatest things embrace, 

Enlarge thereby their mind's capacity ! 

As streams enlarged, enlarge the channel's space. 

All things received, do such proportion take, 

As those things have, wherein they are received \ 

So little glasses, little faces make ; 

And narrow webs, on narrow frames be weaved : 

Then, what vast body must we make the Mind ? 

Wherein are men, beasts, trees, towns, seas, and lands, 
And yet each thing a proper place doth find. 
And each thing in the true proportion stands I 

Doubtless, this could not be, but that She turns 
Bodies to Spirits, by sublimation strange ! 
As fire converts to fire, the things it burns ; 
As we, our meats into our nature change. 

From their gross Matter, she abstracts the Forms, 
And draws a kind of Quintessence from things. 
Which to her proper nature. She transforms. 
To bear them light on her celestial wings. 

This doth She, when from things particular, 
She doth abstract the universal kinds ! 
Which bodiless and immaterial are. 
And can be lodged but only in our minds. 

'TipriiTit] ['The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsvm ! 159 

And thus, from divers accidents and acts, 
Which do within her observation fall ; 
She, goddesses and Powers Divine abstracts, 
As Nature, Fortune, and the Virtues all. 

Again, how can She, several bodies know, 
If in herself a body's form She bears? 
How can a mirror sundry faces show, 
If from all shapes and forms it be not clear? 

Nor could we by our eyes, all colours learn. 
Except our eyes were, of all colours void ! 
Nor sundry tastes can any tongue discern. 
Which is with gross and bitter humours cloyed. 

Nor may a man, of Passions judge aright, 

Except his mind be from all Passions free ! 
Nor can a Judge, his office well acquite, 
If he possest of either party be ! 

If, lastly, this quick power a Body were. 
Were it as swift, as is the wind or fire, 
(Whose atomies do, th' one down sideways bear. 
And make the other, in pyramids aspire) ; 

Her nimble body, yet in time must move. 

And not in instants through all places slide: 
But She is nigh ! and far ! beneath ! above ! 
In point of time which thought can not divide. 

She's sent as soon to China, as to Spain ! 

And thence returns, as soon as She is sent ! 
She measures with one time and with one pain. 
An ell of silk, and heaven's wide-spreading tent ! 

As then, the Soul a Substance hath alone 

Besides the Body, in which She is confined ; 
So hath She not a body of her own ! 
But is a Spirit and immaterial Mind! 

1 60 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teiisum I pipHiTj' 


Since Body and Soul have such diversities; 
That the Well, might we muse, how first their match began ! 
fr^eatedim- But that wc Icam, that He, that spread the skies 
byS.- ^^^ fi^^^ *^^ earth, first formed the Soul in Man. 

y.ack, xii. I" 

This true Prometheus, first, made man of earth, 
And shed in him a beam of heavenly fire I 
Now, in their mother's womb, before their birth, 
Doth in all sons of men, their souls inspire! 

And as Minerva is, in fables, said, 

From Jove, without a mother, to proceed ; 
So our true Jove, without a mother's aid, 
Doth, daily, millions of Minervas breed ! 

Then neither, from Eternity before, 

Erroneous Nor from the time, when time's first point began ; 

opinions of •% r ■> t-r 11 11 1-1 TT1 • 

the crea- Made Hc all souls ! which now He keeps m store, 
so°u"is!^ Some in the moon, and others in the sun : 

Nor in the secret cloister doth He keep, 

These virgin spirits until their marriage day ! 
Nor locks them up in chambers, where they sleep, 
Till they awake within these beds of clay I 

Nor did He first a certain number make, 

Infusing part in beasts, and part in men ! 

And as unwilling farther pains to take. 

Would make no more, than those He framed then 1 

So that the widow Soul, her Body dying. 
Unto the next born Body married was ; 
And so by often changing and supplying. 
Men's souls to beasts, and beasts' to men did pass. 

(These thoughts are fond ! for since the bodies born 
Be more in number far than those that die; 
Thousands must be abortive, and forlorn ! 
Ere others' deaths, to them their souls supply.) 

^I'ipriASG [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! i6i 

But as GOD's handmaid, Nature, doth create 
Bodies, in time distinct and order due ; 
So GOD gives souls the like successive date, 
Which Himself makes in bodies lormed new. 

Which Himself makes, of no material things ! 
For unto angels, He no power hath given, 
Either to form the shape, or stuft to bring, 
F'"om air, or Fire, or substance of the heaven. 

Nor He, in this, doth Nature's service use ! 

That the Por though from bodies she can bodies bring ; 

traduced Yct could shc ncvcr, souls from souls traduce, 

from the 

from the ,^g f^^^ {xom firc, or light from light doth spring ! 

Alas ! that some that were great' lights of old, 

And in their hands the Lamp of GOD did bear ! 
Some reverend Fathers did this error hold, 
Having their eyes dimmed with religious fear. 

" For when," say they, " by rule of faith we find, 
That every soul unto her body knit, 
Brings from the mother's womb, the Sin of Kind, 
The root of all the ill She doth commit." 

" How can we say, that GOD, the Soul doth make, 
But we must make Him author of her sin ! 
Then from man's soul, She doth beginning take, 
Since in man's soul, corruption did begin." 

** For if GOD make her, first he makes her ill ! 

(Which GOD forbid ! our thoughts should yield unto) 
Or makes the body, her fair form to spill ! 
Which, of itself, it hath no power to do." 

" Not Adam's Body, but his Soul did sin, 
And so herself unto corruption brought ! 
But our poor Soul corrupted is within ! 
Ere She hath sinned, either in act or thought " ; 

EsG Car. V II 

1 62 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum / pipj^s'^- 

*' And yet we see in her such powers divine, 

As we could gladly think, from GOD she came ! 
Fain would we make Him author of the wine, 
If for the dregs, we could some other blame." 

Thus these good men, with holy zeal were blind, 
TheAnswer When ou the other part the truth did shine, 

objertion. Whercof wc do clear demonstrations find, 

By light of Nature, and by light Divine. 

None are so gross, as to contend for this, 

That Souls from Bodies may traduced be ! 
Between whose natures no proportion is. 
When root and branch in nature still agree. 

But many subtle wits have justified 

That Souls from Souls, spiritually may spring ! 
Which (if the nature of the Soul be tried) 
Will even, in Nature, prove as gross a thing 1 

For all things made, are either made of nought. 
Reasons Or made of stuff that ready made doth stand : 

fro'il^"* Of nought, no creature ever formed ought ! 

Nature. ^ox that is propcr to th' Almighty's hand. 

If then the Soul, another soul do make ; 

Because her power is kept within a bound, 
She must some former stuff or matter take ! 
But in the Soul, there is no matter found. 

Then if her heavenly Form do not agree. 

With any matter which the world contains ; 
Then She of nothing must created be ! 
And to Create, to GOD alone, pertains! 

Again, if Souls do other Souls beget, 

'Tis by themselves, or by the Body's power ! 
If by themselves ! what doth their working let. 
But they might Souls engender every hour ? 

^ripriu^S:] [The Soul ov Man.] Nosce TEiPi^uM ! 163 

If by the Body ! how can Wit and Will, 
Join with the body, only in this act ? 
Since when they do their other works fulfil, 
They from the Body, do themselves abstract ! 

Again, if Souls, of Souls begotten were, 

Into each other they should change and move ! 
And Change and Motion still corruption bear ; 
How shall we then, the Soul immortal prove ? 

If, lastly, Souls did generation use, 

Then should they spread incorruptible seed ! 
What then becomes of that which they to lose, 
When the acts of generation do not speed ? 

And though the Soul could, cast spiritual seed, 
Yet would She not, because She never dies ! 
For mortal things desire, their like to breed ; 
That so they may their kind immortalise ! 

Therefore the angels, Sons of God are named ! 
And marry not, nor are in marriage given ! 
Their spirits and ours are of one Substance framed. 
And have one Father, even the Lord of heaven : 

Who would at first, that in each other thing, 

The earth and water, living souls should breed ; 

But that Man's Soul (whom He would make their king) 

Should from Himself immediately proceed ! 

And when He took the woman from man's side, 
Doubtless Himself inspired her soul alone 1 
For 'tis not said, he did, Man's soul divide. 
But took flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone! 

Lastly, GOD, being made Man, for man's own sake ! 
And being like man in all, except in sin : 
His Body, from the Virgin's womb did take; 
But all agree, GOD formed His soul within I 

1 64 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! S^'^l^^^f^^ 

Then is the Soul from God ? So Pagans say! 

Which saw bv Nature's light, her heavenly kind ! 
Naming her '' Kin to God ! " and " GOD's bright ray ! " 
" A citizen of heaven, to earth confined I " 

But now I feel they pluck me by the ear, 

(Whom my young Muse so boldly termed blind) 
And crave more heavenly light ; that cloud to clear, 
Which makes them think GOD doth not make the 
Mind ! 

GOD doubtless makes her ! and doth make her good 1 
Reasons And grafts her in a Body, there to spring; 
Suy.'" Which though it be corrupted, flesh and blood, 
Can no way to the Soul, corruption bring ! 

And yet this Soul (made good by GOD at first, 
And not corrupted by the Body's ill) 
Even in the womb, is sinful and accurst, 
Ere she can judge by Wit, or choose by Will. 

Yet is not GOD, the author of her Sin ! 

Though author of her Being, and being there ! 
And if we dare to judge our Judge therein ; 
- He can condemn us, and Himself can clear! 

First, GOD, from infinite eternity 

Decreed what hath been, is, or shall be done ! 
And was resolved that every man should Be 1 
And, in his turn, his race of life should run ! 

And so did purpose all the souls to make. 

That ever have been made, or ever shall ! 
And that their Being, they should only take 
In human bodies, or not Be at all ! 

Was it then fit, that such a weak event 

(Weakness, itself ! the sin and fall of Man) 
His counsel's execution should prevent? 
Decreed and fixed before the world began ! 

^i'iprii^lgfl ['T^E Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum ! 165 

Or that one penal law, by Adam broke, 

Should make GOD break His own eternal law ! 

The settled order of the world revoke ! 

And change all forms of things, which He foresaw 1 

Could Eve's weak hand, extended to the tree, 
In sunder rent that Adamantine Chain, 
Whose golden links, Effects and Causes be; 
And which to GOD's own chair, doth fixt remain ? 

O could we see ! how Cause from Cause doth spring ! 
How mutually they linked and folded are! 
And hear how oft one disagreeing string, 
The harmony doth rather make, than mar! 

And view at once, how Death by sin is brought ! 
And how from Death a better Life doth rise ! 
How this, GOD's Justice and his Mercy taught ! 
We, this decree, would praise, as right and wise ! 

But we (that measure times, by First and Last) 
The sight of things successively do take ! 
When GOD, on all at once, His view doth cast; 
And of all times, doth but one instant rnake ! 

All in Himself, as in a glass, He sees ! 

And from Him, by Him, through Him, all things be ! 

His sight is not discursive, by degrees ; 

But seeing the whole, each single part doth see ! 

He looks on Adam, as a root, or well ! 

And on his heirs, as branches, and as streams ! 
He sees all men as one man ! though they dwell 
In sundry cities, and in sundry realms. 

And as the root and branch are but one tree, 

And well and stream do but one river make; 

So, if the root and well corrupted be ; 

The stream and branch the same corruption take ! 

1 66 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! pip^^j^ts. 

So when the root and fountain of Mankind ; 

Did draw corruption, and GOD's curse by sin : 
This was a charge that all his heirs did bind ; 
And all his offspring grew corrupt therein ! 

And as when th' hand doth strike, the man offends, 
(For part from whole, Law severs not in this !) 
So Adam's sin to the whole Kind extends, 
For all their natures are but part of his 1 

Therefore, this sin, of Kind, not personal ; 
But real, and hereditary was : 
The guilt whereof, and punishment to all, 
By Course of Nature, and of Law doth pass. 

For as that easy law was given to all ! 

To ancestor and heir! to first and last! 

So was the first transgression general ; 

And All did pluck the fruit I and All did taste ! 

Of this, we find some footsteps in our Law, 

Which doth her root from GOD and Nature take. 
Ten thousand men she doth together draw, 
And of them all, one Corporation make ! 

Yet these and their successors are but One ; 
And if they gain or lose their liberties ; 
They harm or profit not themselves alone, 
But such, as in succeeding time, shall rise ! 

And so the ancestor and all his heirs, 

(Though they in number pass the stars of heaven) 
Are still but One ! His forfeitures are theirs ! 
And unto them, are his advancements given I 

His civil acts to bind and bar them all ! 

And as from Adam, all corruption take ; 

So if the father's crime be capital ; 

In all the blood, Law doth corruption make ! 

^v'iprii'.tg:] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum ! 167 

Is it, then, just with us, to disinherit 

The unborn nephews, for the father's fault ? 
And to advance again, for one man's merit, 
A thousand heirs that have deserved nought ? 

And is not GOD's decree as just as ours ! 
If He, for Adam's sins, his sons deprive 
Of all those native virtues, and those powers ; 
Which He to him, and to his race did give ? 

For what is this contagious Sin of Kind, 
But a privation of that grace within. 
And of that great rich dowry of the mind ; 
Which all had had, but for the first man's sin ? 

If then a man, on light conditions, gain 

A great estate, to him and his, for ever ; 

If wilfully, he forfeit it again : 

Who doth bemoan his heir ? or blame the giver ? 

So, though GOD make the Soul good, rich, and fair ; 
Yet when her form is to the Body knit. 
Which makes the Man : which Man is Adam's heir; 
Justly, forthwith, he takes his grace from it ! 

And then the Soul, being first from nothing brought, 
When GOD's grace fails her, doth to nothing fall ! 
And this declining Proneness unto nought, 
Is even that Sin, that we are born withal. 

Yet not, alone, the first good qualities, 

Which in the first Soul were, deprived are ; 
But in their place the contrary do rise, 
And real spots of sin, her beauty mar ! 

Nor is it strange that Adam's ill desert, 

Should be transferred unto his guilty race ! 
When Christ, His grace and justice doth impart 
To men unjust ! and such as have no gr^ce ! 

1 68 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsvm ! pipJ^S 

Lastly, the Soul were better so to be 

Born slave to sin, than not to Be at all ! 
Since, if She do believe, One sets her free, 
That makes her mount the higher, from her fall. 

Yet this, the curious Wits will not content ! 

They yet will know (since GOD foresaw this 111) 
Why His high providence did not prevent 
The declination of the first Man's will. 

If by His word, He had the current stayed, 

Of Adam's will, which was by nature free ; 

It had been one as if His word had said, 

" I will, henceforth, that man, no Man shall be ! " 

For what is Man, without a moving Mind ; 

Which hath a judging Wit, and choosing Will ? 
Now, if GOD's power should her election bind ; 
Her motions then would cease, and stand all still I 

And why did GOD in Man this Soul infuse ; 

But that he should his Maker know and love ? 
Now if love be compelled, and cannot choose ; 
How can it grateful, or thankworthy prove ? 

Love must free hearted be, and voluntary ! 

And not enchanted, or by Fate constrained ! 
Not like that love, which did Ulysses carry 
To Circe's isle, with mighty charms enchained. 

Besides ! Were we unchangeable in Will, 

And of a Wit, that nothing could misdeem ; 
Equal to GOD (whose wisdom shineth still, 
And never errs) we might ourselves esteem ! 

So that if Man would be unvariable ; 

He must be GOD ! or like a rock, or tree ! 
For even the perfect angels were not stable ; 
But had a fall, more desperate than we ! 

^i^ApriuIgS [T^^ Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 169 

Then let us praise that Power, which makes us be 
Men, as we are ! and rest contented so ! 
And knowing man's fall was Curiosity, 
Admire GOD's counsels ! which we cannot know. 

And let us know that GOD, the Maker is 
Of all the Souls, in all the men that be ! 
Yet their corruption is no fault of His ; 
But the first man's, that broke GOD's first decree ! 

This Substance, and this Spirit, of God's own making, 
Why the Is in the Body placed, and planted there : 
unued to That both of GOD, and of the world partaking ; 
the Body. Of all that is, Man might the Image bear ! 

GOD, first, made Angels ! bodjless pure minds ! 

Then, other things, which mindless bodies be ! 
Last, He made Man, the Horizon 'twixt both kinds ! 
In whom, we do the World's Abridgement see. 

Besides ! This world below did need one wight, 
Which might thereof, distinguish every part ; 
Make use thereof, and take therein delight ; 
And order things with industry and Art. 

Which, also, GOD, might (in His works) admire, 

And here, beneath, yield Him both prayer and praise ; 
As there, above, the holy Angels' Quire 
Doth spread His glory, with spiritual lays. 

Lastly, the brute unreasonable wights. 

Did want a Visible King, on them to reign ; 
And GOD Himself, thus to the world unites, 
That so the world might endless bliss obtain ! 

But how shall we this Union well express ? 

In what Nought ties the Soul, her subtility is such 1 

manner, the --,. iii-if-<i ii 

^.oui is She moves the body, which She doth possess ; 

"'.s'iiody. Yet no part loucheth, but by virtue's touch ! 

170 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! pipSTsgg: 

Then dwells She not therein, as in a tent ! 
Nor as a pilot, in his ship doth sit ! 
Nor as a spider, in her web is pent ! 
Nor as the wax retains the print in it ! 

Nor as a vessel, water doth contain ! 
Nor as one liquor, in another shed ! 
Nor as the heat doth in the fire remain ! 
Nor as a voice, throughout the air is spread ! 

But as the fair and cheerful Morning Light 

Doth, here and there, her silver beams impart ! 
And, in an instant, doth herself unite 
To the transparent air, in all and part ! 

Still resting whole, when blows, the air divide ! 
Abiding pure, when th'air is most corrupted ! 
Throughout the air, her beams dispersing wide { 
And, when the air is tost, not interrupted I 

So doth the piercing Soul, the Body fill ! 

Being all in all, and all in part diffused ! 

Indivisible 1 incorruptible still ! 

Not forced ! encountered ! troubled ! or confused ! 

And as the Sun above, the light doth bring, 
Then we behold it in the air below ; 
So from th' Eternal Light, the Soul doth spring 1 
Though in the body. She her powers do show. 

But as this world's sun doth effects beget, 

How the Diverse in divers places, every day, 

fx^rcfse'^ Here, Autumn's temperature ! there. Summer's heat ! 

hf^the""^'" Here, flowery Spring-tide ! and there. Winter grey ! 


Here, Even ! there. Morn ! here. Noon ! there, Day ! there. 

Night ! 
Melts wax ! dries clay ! makes flowers some quick, some 

dead ! 
Makes the Moor black ! and th'European, white ! 
Th'American tawny ! and th'East Indian red ! 

^l\tfi"99:] [The Soul of Max.] Nosce rkiPSUM ! 171 

So in our little world, this Soul of ours, 

Being only One, and" to one Body tied, 
Doth use on divers objects, diverse powers, 
And so are her effects diversified. 

Her Quick'ning Power in every living part, 

The Doth as a Nurse, or as a Mother serve ! 

Vegetative And doth employ her economic art, 

01 Quick- A J i_ 11 111 

ening And Dusy care, her household to preserve. 

Power. ■^ ^ 

Here, She attracts ! and there. She doth retain ! 
There, She decocts, and doth the food prepare ! 
There, She distributes it to every vein ! 
There, She expels, what She may fitly spare ! 

This power to Martha, may compared be ! 

Which busy was, the household things to do ; 

Or to a Dryas living in a tree ! 

For even to trees, this power is proper too. 

And though the Soul may not this power extend 
Out of the body, but still use it there ; 
She hath a Power, which she abroad doth send, 
Which views and searcheth all things everywhere. 

This Power is Sense, which from abroad doth bring, 

The Colour, Taste, and Touch, and Scent, and Sound, 

Jf'sens^" The Quantity, and Shape of everything 

Within th'earth's centre or heaven's circle found. 

This Power, in parts made fit, fit objects takes! 

Yet not the Things, but Forms of Things receives I 
As when a seal in wax impression makes, 
The print therein, but not itself, it leaves: 

And though things sensible be numberless, 
But only five the Sense's organs be ! 
And in those five, All Things their Forms express, 
Which we can Touch, Taste, Feel, or Hear, or See ! 

172 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! \^'^l:^,Ct^ 

These are the Windows, through the which She views 
The Light of Knowledge, which is Life's Load-star ! 
And yet whiles She, these spectacles doth use, 
Oft, worldly things seem greater than they are ! 

First, the two Eyes, which have the Seeing Power, 
Stand as one Watchman, Sp3% or Sentinel, 

Sight. Being placed aloft within the head's high Tower. 
And though both see, yet both but one thing tell ! 

These Mirrors take into their little space, 

The Forms of moon, and sun, and every star ; 

Of every body, and of every place, 

Which, with the world's wide arms, embraced are. 

Yet their best object, and their noblest use. 
Hereafter in another world will be ! 
When GOD in them, shall heavenly light infuse, 
That face to face, they may their Maker see ! 

Here are they guides, which do the Body lead, 
Which else would stumble in eternal night ! 
Here in this world, they do much knowledge read. 
And are the Casements, which admit most light 1 

They are her farthest-reaching instrument ; 

Yet they no beams unto their objects send I 
But all the rays are from their objects sent ; 
And in the Eyes, with pointed angles end ! 

If th'objects be far off, the rays do meet 

In a sharp point, and so things seem but small ; 

If they be near, their rays do spread and fleet, 

And make broad points, that things seem great withal. 

Lastly. Nine things to Sight required are. 

The Power to see ! the Light ! the Visible thing ! 
Being not too small ! too thin ! too nigh ! too far ! 
Clear space ! and Time, the Form distinct to bring. 

^j^ApruTsS.'] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! i "^^ 

Thus see we, how the Soul doth use the Eyes, 
As instruments of her quick power of sight ; 
Hence do th'Arts Optic, and fair Painting rise. 
Painting, which doth all gentle minds delight ! 

Now let us hear, how She the Ears employs ! 

Their office is the troubled air to take, 
Hearing. Which in their mazes, forms a sound or noise ; 

Whereof herself doth true distinction make. 

These Wickets of the Soul are placed on high, 
Because all sounds do lightly mount aloft ! 
And that they may not pierce too violently ; 
They are delayed with turns and windings oft ! 

For should the voice directly strike the brain, 
It would astonish and confuse it much ! 
Therefore these plaits and folds the sound restrain, 
That it, the Organ may more gently touch ! 

As streams, which, with their winding banks, do play, 
Stopt by their creeks, run softly through the plain ; 
So in the Ear's labyrinth, the voice doth stray, 
And doth, with easy motion, touch the brain ! 

It is the slowest, yet the daintiest Sense ! 

For even the ears of such as have no skill, 
Perceive a discord, and conceive offence ! 
And knowing not what's good, yet find the ill ! 

And though this Sense, first, gentle Music found ; 
Her proper object is the Speech of Man ! 
But that speech chiefly which GOD's heralds sound. 
When their tongues utter, what his Spirit did pen. 

Our Eyes have lids, our Ears still ope we see ! 
Quickly to hear, how every tale is proved ; 
Our Eyes still move, our Ears unmoved be ! 
That though we hear quick, we be not quickly moved. 

1 74 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! [7?'Aprn is'!,"" 

Thus by the organs of the Eye and Ear, 

The Soul with knowledge doth herself endue ! 
Thus She her prison, may with pleasure bear ; 
Having such prospects, all the world to view ! 

These Conduit Pipes of Knowledge feed the Mind ! 
But th'other three attend the Body still ; 
For by their services the Soul doth find 
What things are to the Body, good or ill. 

The Body's life, with meats and air is fed. 

Therefore the Soul doth use the Tasting power ! 

Taste. In veins, which through the tongue and palate spread, 

Distinguish every relish, sweet and sour. 

This is the Body's Nurse ! But since Man's wit 
Found th'art of cookery to delight his Sense : 
More bodies are consumed and killed with it ! 
Than with the sword, famine, or pestilence. 

Next, in the nostrils, She doth use the Smell ! 

As GOD the breath of life in them did give ; 
Smell. So makes He, now. His power in them to dwell ; 

To judge all airs, whereby we breath and live. 

This Sense is also mistress of an Art, 

Which to soft people, sweet perfumes doth sell ; 
Though this dear Art doth little good impart, 
Since ** they smell best ; that do of nothing smell ! " 

And yet good scents do purify the Brain, 
Awake the Fancy, and the Wits refine. 
, Hence Old Devotion, incense did ordain ! 
To make men's spirits more apt for thoughts divine. 

Lastly, the Feeling power, which is Life's Root, 

Through every living part itself doth shed ; 
Feeling. By siucws, which extend from head to foot, 
.":. And like a net, all o'er the Body spread. 

^WpriiTsgg.'] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 175 

Much like a subtle spider, which doth sit 

In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide ; 
If ought do touch the utmost thread of it ; 
She feels it, instantly, on every side 1 

By touch; the first pure qualities we learn. 

Which quicken all things, Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry ! 
By touch; Hard, Soft, Rough, Smooth, we do discern! 
By touch ; sweet Pleasure, and sharp Pain we try ! 

These are the outward instruments of Sense ! 

These are the Guards, which every thing must pass ; 

Ere it approach the Mind's intelligence ! 

Or touch the Phantasy " Wits Looking Glass ! " 

And yet these Porters which all things admit, 
The Themselves perceive not, nor discern the things; 

imagina- Onc Common Power doth in the forehead sit, 
Common WhlcH all thclr proper forms- together brings. 


For all those Nerves, which spirits of Sense do bear, 
And to those outward organs spreading go. 
United are as in a centre there ! 
And, there, this power, those sundry forms doth know ! 

Those outward Organs present things receive ; 
This inward Sense doth absent things retain ! 
Yet, straight, transmits all Forms she doth perceive, 
Unto a higher region of the brain ; 

Where Phantasy (near handmaid to the Mind!) 

Sits and beholds, and doth discern them all ; 

Phantasy. Compounds in one, things diverse in their kind, 

Compares the black and white, the great and small. 

Besides those single forms. She doth esteem, 
And in her balance doth their values try ; 
Where some things good, and some things ill do seem, 
And neutral some in her Phantastic eye. 

176 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum / [^'""ipruTsj": 

This busy power is working day and night, 

For when the outward senses rest do take ; 
A thousand dreams, phantastical and light, 
With fluttering wings, do keep her still awake ! 

Yet, always, all may not afore her be ! 
^^^ Successively, she this, and that intends ! 

sensative Therefore such forms as she doth cease to see, 
emory. r^^ Mcmory's large volume she commends ! 

The Ledger Book lies in the brain behind. 

Like Janus' eye, which in his poll was set ; 
The Layman's Tables ! Storehouse of the Mind ! 
Which do<^h remember much, and much forget. 

Here, Sense's Apprehensions end doth take ! 
As, when a stone is into water cast. 
One circle doth another circle make. 
Till the last circle touch the bank at last ! 

But though the Apprehensive Power do pause, 
^^^ The Motive Virtue then begins to move ! 

Passions Which in the heart below, doth Passions cause, 

Joy, Grief, and Fear, and Hope, and Hate, and Love. 

These Passions have a free commanding might, 
And divers actions in our life do breed ! 
For all acts done without true Reason's light, 
Do from the Passion of the Sense proceed ! 

But sith the Brain doth lodge these powers of Sense, 
How makes it, in the Heart those passions spring ? 
The mutual love, the kind intelligence 
'Twixt heart and brain, this Sympathy doth bring I 

From the kind heat, which in the heart doth reign. 
The spirits of Life do their beginning take ! 
These spirits of Life ascending to the brain. 
When they come there, the spirits of Sense do make 1 

^ApruTssS [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 177 

These spirits of Sense in Phantasy's high court, 
Judge of the Forms of Objects, ill or well ! 
And so, they send a good or ill report 
Down to the heart, where all Affections dwell. 

If the report be good ; it causeth love ! 

And longing hope ! and well assured joy ! 

If it be ill ; then doth it hatred move ! 

And trembling fear ! and vexing griefs annoy ! 

Yet were these natural affections good 

(For they which want them, blocks or devils be I ) ; 
If Reason in her first perfection stood, 
That she might Nature's Passions rectify. 

Besides, another Motive Power doth rise 

Out of the heart : from whose pure blood do spring 
ofLi?e°"°" The Vital Spirits, which born in arteries, 

Continual motion to all parts do bring. 

This makes the pulses beat, and lungs respire ! 

This holds the sinews, like a bridle's reins ! 

The local 

To turn or stop, as she them slacks or strains ! 

motion. And make the body to advance, retire 

Thus the Soul tunes the Body's instrument ! 

These harmonies She makes with Life and Sense ! 

The organs fit, are by the Body lent ; 

But th'actions flow from the Soul's influence. 

But now I have a Will, yet want a Wit, 
The In- To express the workings of the Wit and Will ; 
Powerrof Which, though their root be to the body knit, 
the Soul. Use not the Body, when they use their skill. 

These powers the nature of the Soul declare, 
For to Man's Soul, these only proper be ! 
For on the earth, no other wights there are, 
Which have these heavenly powers, but only We. 

Enc. Gar. V. 12 

178 [The Soul OF Man.'] A^oscE TEi/'suM/ pipS'S 

The Wit (the pupil of the Soul's clear eye ! 
,j,,^g^^..^ And in Man's world, th'only shining star!) 
orUner- Looks in the Mirror of the Phantasy, 
standing. ^yj^gj-g ^\\ ^he gatherings of the senses are 

From thence this Power, the Shapes of things abstracts, 
And them within her Passive part receives ; 
Which are enlightened by that part which ActSf 
And so the Forms of single things perceives. 

But after, by discoursing to and fro, 

Anticipating, and comparing things ; 
She doth all universal natures know. 
And all Effects into their Causes brings. 

^ When She rates things, and moves from ground to ground. 
Reason. Thc namc of Reason, She obtains by this ! 

But when, by reasons. She the truth hath found, 
^"ndfng. And standeth fixt. She, Understanding is ! 

When her assent, She lightly doth incline 
Opinion. To either part. She is Opinion light ! 

But when She doth by principles define 
Judgment. A Certain truth. She hath true Judgement's sight. 

And as from senses. Reason's work doth spring; 
So many reasons. Understanding gain ! 
And many understandings. Knowledge bring I 
And by much knowledge. Wisdom we obtain ! 

So, many stairs we must ascend upright. 

Ere we attain to Wisdom's high degree ! 

So doth this earth eclipse our Reason's light, 

Which else (in instants) would like angels see ! 

Yet hath the Soul a dowry natural, 

And Sparks of Light some common things to see I 
Not being a blank, where nought is writ at all, 
But what the writer will, may written be ! 

TaphiTsqq'] [The Sout. of Man.] Nosce tbipsum ! 179 

For Nature, in man's heart her laws doth pen, 

Prescribing Truth to Wit ! and Good to Will ! 
Which do accuse, or else excuse all men, 
For every thought or practice, good or ill 1 

And yet these sparks grow almost infinite, 

Making the world and all therein, their food ; 
As fire so spreads, as no place holdeth it, 
Being nourished still with new supplies of wood. 

And though these sparks were almost quenched with sin, 
Yet they, whom that Just One hath justified. 
Have them increased, with Heavenly Light within ! 
And, like the Widow's oil, still multiplied ! 

And as this Wit should goodness truly know, 

We have a Wit which that true good should choose ! 
The pow=r fhough Will do oft (when Wit, false Forms doth show) 

Take 111, for Good ; and Good, for 111 refuse. 

Will puts in practice what the Wit deviseth ! 

The Will ever acts, and Wit contemplates still ! 

relations And as from Wit the power of Wisdom riseth : 

betwixt • • • 

Wit and All other virtues, daughters are of Will ! 


Will is the Prince ! and Wit, the Councillor ! 

Which doth for common good in council sit ; 
And when Wit is resolved ; Will lends her power 
To execute what is advised by Wit. 

Wit is the Mind's Chief Judge! which doth control, 
Of Fancy's Court, the judgements false and vain ! 
Will holds the royal sceptre in the Soul ; 
And on the Passions of the Heart doth reign ! 

Will is as free as any Emperor ! 

Nought can restrain her gentle liberty ! 
No tyrant, nor no torment hath the power 
To make us will ; when we unwilling be ! 

I So [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! pipru'ij"' 

To these high powers, a Storehouse doth pertain ; 
The Where they, all Arts and general reasons lay ! 

intellectual Whicli in the Soul (even after death !) remain, 
A emory. ^^^ ^^ Lethean flood can wash away ! 

This is the Soul ! and those, her virtues be ! 

Which, though they have their sundry proper ends, 
And one exceeds another in degree ; 
Yet each on other mutually depends. 

( )ur Wit is given, Almighty GOD to know ! 

Our Will is given to love Him, being known ! 

But GOD could not be known to us below. 

But by His works, which through the Sense are shown. 

And as the Wit doth reap the fruits of Sense ; 

So doth the Quick'ning Power, the Senses feed ! 
Thus while they do their sundry gifts dispense, 
The best, the service of the least doth need ! 

Even so, the King, his magistrates do serve ; 

Yet Commons feed both magistrate and King ! 

The Commons' peace, the magistrates preserve 

By borrowed power, which from the Prince doth spring. 

The Quickening Power would be, and so would rest ! 
The Sense would not be only, be be well ! 
But Wit's ambition longeth to be best ! 
For it desires in endless bliss, to dwell. 

And these three Powers, three sorts of men do make. 
For some, like plants, their veins do only fill ! 
And some, like beasts, their senses' pleasure take! 
And some, like angels, do contemplate still ! 

Therefore the fables turned some men to flowers ! 
And others, did with brutish forms invest ! 
And did of others, make celestial powers 
Like angels ! which still travail, yet still rest ! 

?AprKS:] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! i8i 

Yet these three Powers are not three Souls but one, 
As one and two are both contained in three ; 
Three being one number by itself alone. 
A shadow of the blessed Trinity ! 

O what is Man ! (Great Maker of mankind !) 

That Thou to him so great respect dost bear ! 

mation!*' That Thou adorn'st him with so bright a Mind 
Mak'st him a king ! and even an angel's peer ! 

O what a lively life ! .what heavenly power ! 

What spreading virtue ! what a sparkling fire ! 
How great ! how plentiful ! how rich a dower ! 
Dost Thou, within this dying flesh inspire ! 

Thou leav'st Thy Print in othei* works of Thine ! 

But Thy whole Image, Thou, in Man hast writ ! 
There cannot be a creature more divine ! 
Except, (like Thee !) it should be infinite. 

But it exceeds Man's thought, to think how high 

GOD hath raised Man, since GOD, a man became ! 

The angels do admire this mystery ! 

And are astonished when they view the same 1 

Or hath He given these blessings for a day ! 
Nor made them on the Body's life 

J J I '' That the 

depend! souiisi,,,. 

The Soul, though made in Time, survives ^nnol'die' 

for Aye ! 
And though it hath beginning, sees no end I 

Her only end, in never-ending bliss ; 

Which is, th' eternal face of GOD to see ! 
Who Last of Ends and First of Causes is ! 
And to do this, She must Eternal be ! 

i82 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! HAp^^^t,: 

How senseless then, and dead a Soul hath he, 

Which thinks his soul doth with his body die I 
Or thinks not so, but so would have it be, 
That he might sin with more security ! 

For though these light and vicious persons say, 
" Our Soul is but a smoke ! or airy blast ! 
Which, during life, doth in our nostrils play ; 
And when we die, doth turn to wind at last ! " 

Although they say, " Come, let us eat, and drink ! 
Our life is but a spark, which quickly dies ! " 
Though thus they my, they know not what to think. 
But in their minds, ten thousand doubts arise. 

Therefore no heretics desire to spread 

Their light opinions^ like these Epicures ; 

For so their staggering thoughts are comforted ! 

And other men's assent, their doubt assures ! 

Yet though these men against their conscience strive, 
There are some sparkles in their flinty breasts, 
Which cannot be extinct, but still revive, 
That (though they would) they cannot, quite be beasts ! 

But whoso makes a Mirror of his Mind ; 

And doth, with patience, view himself therein ; 
His Soul's eternity shall clearly find ! 
Though th'other beauties be defaced with sin. 

First, In man's mind, we find an appetite 

1 Jieason. To Leam and Know the Truth of everything ! 

fronTthe Which is connatural, and born with it ; 

^'^si'-e And from the essence of the Soul doth spring. 

of Know- ^ ° 


With this Desire, She hath a native Might, 
To find out every truth, if She had time 
Th' innumerable effects to sort aright ; 
And, by degrees, from cause to cause to climb ! 

?"ApriiT599-] [f^E Soul of Max\.] Nosce teipsum ! 183 

But since our life so fast away doth slide ! 

(As doth a hungry eagle through the wind, 
Or as a ship transported with the tide ; 
Which in their passage, leave no print behind.) 

Of which swift little time, so much we spend, 

While some few things, we, through the Sense, do strain ; 
That our short race of life is at an end. 
Ere we, the Principles of Skill attain : 

Or GOD (which to vain ends, hath nothing done) * 
In vain, this Appetite and Power hath given ; 
Or else our knowledge, which is here begun, 
Hereafter must be perfected in heaven ! 

GOD never gave a Power to orie whole Kind ; 
But most of that Kind did use the same ! 
Most eyes have perfect sight ! though some be blind : 
Most legs can nimbly run ! though some be lame. 

But in this life, no Soul, the Truth can know 
So perfectly, as it hath power to do ! 
If then perfection be not found below, 
A higher place must make her mount thereto ! 

Again, how can She but immortal be ? 

2 Reason. When wlth the motions of both Will and Wit 

f^omThe S^^e Still aspireth to Eternity, 

motion of And never rests, till she attain to it ' 

the Soul. 

Water in conduit pipes can rise no higher 

Than the well head, from whence it first doth spring ! 
Then since to eternal GOD, She doth aspire; 
She cannot be but an eternal thing ! 

" All moving things to other things do move 

Of the same kind," wliicli shows their natures such ; 
So earth falls down, and fire dotli mount above, 
Till holii their proper Elements do touch. 

184 [The Soul of IVIan.] Nosce teipsum ! [^^A^Ti' 

And as the moisture which the thirsty earth 
The Soul Sucks from the sea, to fill her empty veins; 
compared From out her womb at last doth take a birth, 
to a river. ^^j runs, a Nymph ! along the grassy plains: 

Long doth she stay, as loath to leave the land, 

From whose soft side, she first did issue make ! 
She tastes all places! turns to every hand ! 
Her flow'ry banks unwilling to forsake : 

Yet Nature, so her streams doth lead and carry, 
As that her course doth make no final stay 
Till she, herself unto the Ocean marry ; 
Within whose watry bosom first she lay ! 

Even so the Soul, which in this earthy mould, 
The Spirit of GOD doth secretly infuse ; 
Because, at first. She doth the earth behold. 
And only this material world She views ! 

At first, our Mother Earth, She holdeth dear! 

And doth embrace the World, and worldly things ! 
She flies close by the ground, and hovers here ! 
And mounts not up with her celestial wings ! 

Yet, under heaven, She cannot light on ought, 
That with her heavenly nature doth agree ! 
She cannot rest ! She cannot fix her thought ! 
She cannot in this world contented be ! 

For who did ever yet in Honour, Wealth, 

Or Pleasure of the Sense, contentment find ? 
Who ever ceased to wis,h, when he had Health ? 
Or having Wisdom, was not vext in mind ? 

Then as a bee, which among weeds doth fall, 

Which seem sweet flowers, with lustre fresh and ga\- ; 
She lights on that ! and this ! and tasteth all ; 
But pleased with none, doth rise and soar away ! 

^'iprn^S'] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 185 

So, when the Soul finds here no true content, 

And, Hke Noah's dove, can no sure footing take ; 
She doth return from whence She first was sent, 
And flies to Him, that first her wings did make ! 

Wit seeking Truth, from Cause to Cause ascends ; 
And never rests, till it the First attain ! 
Will seeking Good, finds many middle Ends, 
But never stays, till it the Last do gain ! 

Now, GOD, the Truth ! and First of Causes is ! 

GOD is the Last Good End! which lasteth still : 
Being Alpha and Omega named for this, 
Alpha to Wit ! Omega to the Will ! 

Since then, her heavenly kind She doth bewray, 
In that to GOD, She doth directly move : 
And on no mortal thing can make her stay ; 
She cannot be from hence, but from above ! 

And yet this First True Cause and Last Good End, 
She cannot hear so well, and truly see ! 
For this perfection, She must yet attend, 
Till to her Maker, She espoused be ! 

As a King's daughter, being in person sought 
Of divers Princes, which do neighbour near; 
On none of them can fix a constant thought, 
Though she to all do lend a gentle ear. 

Yet can she love a foreign Emperor ! 

Whom, of great worth and power, she hears to be; 
If she be wooed but by Ambassador; 
Or but his letters, or his picture see ! 

For well she knows, that when she shall be brought 
Into the kingdom, where her Spouse doth reign : 
Her eyes shall see what she conceived in thought. 
Himself! his State ! his glory ! and his train ! 

1 86 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! [^r'ApHiTsg"; 

So while the virgin Soul on earth doth stay 

She wooed and tempted is, ten thousand ways, 
By these great Powers, which on the earth bear sway ; 
The Wisdom of the World, Wealth, Pleasure, 

With these, sometime, She doth her time beguile 1 
These do, by fits, her Phantasy possess ! 
But She distastes them all, within a while ; 
And in the sweetest, finds a tediousness ! 

But if, upon the world's Almighty King, 

She once do fix her humble loving thought ! 
Which, by his Picture drawn in everything. 
And sacred Messages, her love hath sought, 

Of Him, She thinks She cannot think too much ! 
This honey tasted, still is ever sweet ! 
The pleasure of her ravished thought is such ! 
As almost here. She, with her bliss doth meet ! 

But when in heaven, She shall His Essence see ! 
This is her Sovereign Good ! and Perfect Bliss ! 
Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finished be ! 
Her joys are full ! her motions rest in this ! 

There, is She crowned with Garlands of Content ! 
There, doth She manna eat, and nectar drink ! 
That Presence doth such high delights present, 
As never tongue could speak, nor heart could think! 

Reason ^°^ ^^^^ ' *^^ better Souls do oft despise 
Fromconi. Thc body's death, and do it oft desire ! 
deafh h For when on ground, the burdened balance lies ; 
thebettei- The empty part is lifted up the higher! 


But if the body's death, the Soul should kill ? 

Then death must needs against her nature be ! 

And were it so, all Souls would fly it still, 

" For Nature hates, and shuns her contrary ! " 

^yApHutg.] [The Soul of Man. J No^ce teipsum ! 18; 

For all things else, which Nature makes to be ; 
Their Being to preserve, are chiefly taught ! 
For though some things desire a change to see, 
*' Yet never thing did long to turn to nought ! " 

If then, by death, the Soul were quenched quite, 
She could not thus against her nature run I 
Since every senseless thing, by Nature's light, 
Doth preservation seek ! destruction shun ! 

Nor could the world's best spirits so much err, 

(If Death took all!) that they should all agiee, 

Before this life, their Honour to prefer ! 

For what is praise, to things that nothing be ? 

Again, if by the body's prop. She stand ? 
If on the body's life, her life depend ? 
As Meleager's on the fatal brand ! 
The body's good. She only would intend ! 

We should not find her half so brave and bold, 
To lead it to the wars, and to the seas ! 
To make it suffer watchings ! hunger ! cold ! 
When it might feed with plenty 1 rest with case! 

Doubtless, all Souls have a surviving thought ! 

Therefore of Death, we think with quiet mind; 
But if we think of being iiirncd to nought, 
A trembling horror in our Souls we find 1 

And as the better spirit, when She doth bear 
^.R.'ason. A scom of dcath, doth shew She cannot die ; 
fea°r"of'^'' So whcn the wicked Soul, Death's face doth fear, 
til" wicked E^^" then, She proves her own eternity ! 


For, when Death's form appears. She feareth not 
An utter quenching or extinguishment ! 
She would be glad to meet with such a lot ! 
That so She might all future ill prc\ent. 

1 88 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! [Tipril'xS; 

But She doth doubt what after may befall ! 
For Nature's law accuseth her within, 
And saith, " 'Tis true, that is affirmed by all, 
That after death, there is a pain for sin ! " 

Then She, which hath been hoodwinked from her birth, 
Doth first herself within Death's Mirror see ! 
And when her body doth return to earth, 
She first takes care, how She alone shall be ! 

Whoever sees these irreligious men, 

With burden of a sickness, weak and faint ; 
But hears them talking of religion then ! 
And vowing of their souls to every saint ? 

When was there ever cursed atheist brought 
Unto the gibbet, but he did adore 
That blessed Power ! which he had set at nought, 
Scorned, and blasphemed, all his life before ? 

These light vain persons, still are drunk and mad. 
With surfeitings and pleasures of their youth ! 
But, at their deaths, they are fresh ! sober ! sad ! 
Then, they discern ! and then, they speak the truth ! 

If then, all souls, both good and bad, do teach 
With general voice, that souls can never die ! 
'Tis not Man's flattering Gloss, but Nature's Speech ! 
Which, like GOD's Oracle, can never lie. 

Hence, springs that universal strong desire, 

s.Keasou. Which all men have, of Immortality ! 

From the Not somc fcw spirits unto this thought aspire, 

fireoTim.' But all mcn's minds in this, united be 1 


Then this desire of Nature is not vain ! 
** She covets not impossibilities ! " 
" Fond thoughts may fall into some idle brain ; 
But one Assent of All, is ever true ! " 

sirj.Davies.-i vj^^ SouL OF Man.1 Nosce teipsum ! 189 

? April 1 599- J L -■ 

From hence, that general care and study spririgs, 
That launching and progression of the Mind,_ 
Which all men have, so much of Future thmgs, 
As they no joy, do in the Present find. 

From this desire, that main Desire proceeds, _ 
Which all men have, survivmg Fame to gam ! 
By tombs, by books, by memorable deeds ; 
For She that this desires, doth still remam ! 

Hence, lastly, springs Care of Posterities ! 

For things, their kind would everlastmg make ! 
Hence is it, that old men do plant young trees, 
The fruit whereof, another age shall take ! 

If we these rules unto ourselves apply, 

And view them by reflection of the mmd ; 

All these True Notes of Immortality, 

In our hearts' tables, we shall written find! 

And though some impious wits do questions movj^e,^ 
6. Reason, ^^d doubt " if souls immortal be or no .'' 
v^eTdoubt That doubt, their immortality doth prove ! 
?a"iofor Because they seem immortal things to know. 


tality. U U • 

For he which reasons, on both parts doth bring. 
Doth some things mortal, some immortal call ; 
Now if himself were but a mortal thing ; 
He could not judge immortal things, at alt ! 

For when we judge, our Minds we Mirrors make ! 
And as those glasses, which material be, 
Forms of material things do only take 
(For Thoughts or Minds in them, we cannot see) ; 

So when we GOD and Angels do conceive 

And think of Truth (which is eternal too). 
Then do our Minds, immortal Forms receive! 
Which if they mortal were, they could not do. 

iQo [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! [^''iprn^ss,. 

And as if beasts conceived what Reason were, 
And that conception should distinctly shew; 
They should the name of reasonable bear 
(For without Reason, none could reason know). 

So when the Soul mounts with so high a wing, 
As of eternal things, She doubts can move ! 
She, proofs of her eternity doth bring ! 
Even when She strives the contrary to prove. 

For even the thought of Immortality, 

Being an act done without the body's aid. 
Shews, that herself alone could move, and be I 
Although the body in the grave were laid. 

And if herself She can so lively move, 

And never need a foreign help to take, 
Then must her motion everlasting prove, 
" Because her self She never can forsake. ' 

" But though Corruption cannot touch the Mind, 
That the By any cause, that from itself may spring ; 
not^bfcL Some Outward Cause, Fate hath perhaps designed, 
stroyed. Which to thc Soul, may utter quenching bring ? " 

"Perhaps her Cause may cease, and She may die ! " 
HerCause GOD is hcr Causc ! His WORD, her Maker was ! 
nor'*" Which shall stand fixed for all eternity ! 

When heaven and earth shall like a shadow pass. 

** Perhaps something repugnant to her kind. 

She hath By strong antipathy, the Soul may kill ! " 

Tra^T But what can be contrary to the Mind, 

Which holds all contraries in concord still ? 

She lodgeth heat, and cold ! and moist, and dry ! 

And life, and death ! and peace, and war together ! 
Ten thousand fighting things in her do lie, 
Yet neither troubleth or disturbeth either ! 

TipruTigfl [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 191 

" Perhaps, for want of food, the Soul may pine ! " 
She cannot But that werc strange ! since all things bad and good , 
wfn°of Since all GOD's creatures, mortal and divine; 
f^d. Since GOD Himself is her eternal food ! 

Bodies are fed with things of mortal kind ! 
And so are subject to mortality ; 
But Truth, which is eternal, feeds the Mind ! 
The Tree of Life, which will not let her die ! 

*' Yet violence perhaps the Soul destroys ! 

Violence As lightning or the sunbeams dim the sight ; 

srroy°he'!-!" O^ ^s a thundcr-clap or cannon's noise, 

The power of hearing doth astonish quite ? " 

But high perfection to the Soul it brings, 

T'encounter things most excellent and high ! 
For when She views the best and greatest things. 
They do not hurt, but rather clear the eye. 

Besides as Homer's gods 'gainst armies stand ; 

Her subtle form can through all dangers slide ! 
Bodies are captive. Minds endure no band ! 
*' And Will is free, and can no force abide ! " 

" But lastly. Time perhaps, at last, hath power, 

Time can- To spcnd hcr lively powers, and quench her light ? " 

notdestroy g^^ ^^^ g^j Saturn, which doth all devour, 

Doth cherish her, and still augment her might ! 

Heaven waxeth old ; and all the spheres above 

Shall, one day, faint, and their swift motion stay; 
And Time itself, in time, shall cease to move, 
Only the Soul survives, and lives for aye ! 

Our bodies, every footstep that they make, 

March towards death, until at last they die! 

Whether we work, or play, or sleep, or wake, 

Our life doth pass, and with Time's wings doth fly ! 

192 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum ! pipruTss,: 

But to the Soul, time doth perfection give ! 
And adds fresh lustre to her beauty still ! 
And makes her in eternal youth to live, 
Like her which nectar to the gods doth fill ! 

The more She lives, the more She feeds on Truth ! 

The more She feeds, her Strength doth more increase ! 
And what is Strength, but an effect of Youth ! 
Which if Time nurse, how can it ever cease ? 

But now these Epicures begin to smile, 

Objections And say, " My doctrine is more safe, than true ! " 

immo'r-' * Aud that " I foudly do myself beguile, 

the"so°ui. While these received opinions I ensue." 

" For what ! " they say, " doth not the Soul wax old ! 
Objection. How comcs it, then, that aged men do dote, 

And that their brains grow sottish, dull, and cold; 

Which were in youth, the only spirits of note ? " 

" What ! are not Souls within themselves corrupted ? 
How can there idiots then by Nature be ? 
How is it that some wits are interrupted, 
That now they dazzled are, now clearly see ? " 

These questions make a subtle argument 

Answer. To such as think both Sense and Reason one 1 

To whom, nor Agent, from the Instrument ; 

Nor Power of Working, from the Work is known ! 

But they that know that Wit can show no skill, 

But when she things in Sense's glass doth view ; 

Do know, if accident this glass do spill. 

It nothing sees ! or sees the false for true ' , 

For if that region of the tender brain, 

Wherein th'inward sense of Phantasy should sit, 
And th'outward senses' gatherings should retain. 
By Nature, or by chance become unfit. 

"TAprn'tfl [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 19; 

Either at first uncapable it is ; 

And so few things or none at all receives ; 
Or marred by accident which haps amiss, 
And so amiss it everything perceives ; 

Then as a cunning Prince that useth spies ; 

If they return no news, doth nothing know ! 
But if they make advertisement of lies, 
The Prince's Council all awry do go ! 

Even so, the Soul, to such a Body knit, 
Whose inward senses undisposed be, 
And to receive the Forms of things unfit ; 
Where nothing is brought in, can nothing see ! 

This makes the Idiot, which hath yet a mind, 

Able to know the Truth, and choose the Good ; 
If she such figures in the brain did find ! 
As might be found, if it in temper stood. 

But if a frenzy do possess the brain ; 

It so disturbs and blots the forms of things, 
As Phantasy proves altogether vain, 
And to the Wit, no true relation brings. 

Then doth the Wit, admitting all for true, 

Build fond conclusions on those idle grounds! 
Then doth it fly the Good, and 111 pursue! 
Believing all that this false spy propounds. 

But purge the humours, and the rage appease ; 
Which this distemper in the Fancy wrought : 
Then will the Wit, which never had disease ! 
Discourse and judge discreetly, as it ought. 

So though the clouds eclipse the Sun's fair light. 
Yet from his face they do not take one beam ! 
So have our eyes their perfect power of sight, 
Even when they look into a troubled stream. 

JF/V.;. Gar. V. 1 3 

194 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! pip° 



Then these defects in Sense's organs be, 

Not in the Soul, or in her working might ! 
She cannot lose her perfect Power to See ! 
Though mists and clouds do choke her window light. 

These imperfections then we must impute, 
Not to the Agent, but the Instrument ; 
We must not blame Apollo, but his Lute, 
If false accords from her false strings be sent. 

The Soul, in all, hath one intelligence ! 

Though too much moisture in an infant's brain, 
And too much dryness in an old man's sense 
Cannot the prints of outward things retain. 

Then doth the Soul want work, and idle sit : 
And this we Childishness and Dotage call I 
Yet hath She then a quick and active Wit, 
If She had stuff and tools to work withal. 

For, give her organs fit, and objects fair ! 

Give but the aged man, the j'oung man's sense ! 

Let but Medea, ^son's youth repair ! 

And straight She shews her wonted excellence. 

As a good harper, stricken far in years, 

Into whose cunning hands, the gout is fall: 
All his old crotchets, in his brain he bears, 
But on his harp, plays ill, or not at all I 

But if Apollo take his gout away, 

That he, his nimble fingers may apply; 

Apollo's self will envy at his play ! 

And all the world applaud his minstrelsy ! 

Then Dotage is no weakness of the Mind, 

But of the Sense ; for if the Mind did waste ; 
In all old men, we should this wasting find. 
When they some certain term of years had past ! 

?ApHU599] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum ! 195 

But most of them, even to their dying hour, 

Retain a Mind more lively, quick, and strong, 
And better use their Understanding Power, 
Than when their brains were warm, and limbs were 

For though the body wasted be and weak. 

And though the leaden form of earth it bears ; 
Yet when we hear that half-dead body speak. 
We oft are ravished to the heavenly spheres. 

Yet say these men, *' If all her organs die, 

2. Objection. Then hath the Soul no power, her Powers to use ! 
So in a sort her Powers extinct do lie, 
When into Act She cannot them reduce." 

" And if her Powers be dead, then what is She ? 

For since from everything, some Powers do spring, 
And from those Powers some Acts proceeding be : 
Then kill both Power and Act, and kill the Thing ! " 

Doubtless the Body's death, when once it dies, 
Answer. The Instruments of Sense and Life doth kill ! 
So that She cannot use those faculties. 
Although their root rest in her substance still. 

But as, the Body living. Wit and Will 

Can judge and choose without the Body's aid ! 
Though on such objects, they are working still, 
As through the Body's organs are conveyed : 

So, when the Body serves her turn no more, 
And all her Senses are extinct and gone, 
She can discourse of what She learned before, 
In heavenly contemplations all alone. 

So if one man well on the lute doth play, 

And have good horsemanship, and learning's skill : 
Though both his lute and horse we take away; 
Doth he not keep his former learning still ? 

196 [TuE Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! S^"l^u^^, 

He keeps it doubtless ! and can use it too ! 

And doth both th'other skills, in power retain ! 
And can of both the proper actions do, 
If with his Lute, or Horse he meet again. 

So, though the instruments by which we live 

And view the world, the Body's death doth kill : 
Yet with the Body, they shall all revive ; 
And all their wonted offices fulfil ! 

" But how, till then, shall She herself employ? 

3. Objection. Her spies are dead; which brought home news before! 

What she hath got and keeps, she may enjoy ; 

But She hath means to understand no more ! " 

" Then what do those poor Souls which nothing get? 
Or what do those which get and nothing keep. 
Like buckets bottomless, which all out let ? 
Those Souls, for want of exercise, must sleep ! " 

See how Man's Soul, against itself doth strive ! 

Answer. Why should we not have other means to know? 
As children, while within the womb they live, 
Feed by the navel ; Here, they feed not so ! 

These children (if they had some use of Sense, 

And should by chance their mothers talking, hear; 
That, in short time, they shall come forth from thence) 
Would fear their birth, more than our death we fear ! 

They would cry out, ** If we, this place shall leave, 
Then shall we break our tender navel strings ! 
How shall we then our nourishment receive ? 
Since our sweet food, no other conduit brings ! '* 

And if a man should, to these babes reply. 

That *' Into this fair world they shall be brought ! 

Where they shall see the earth, the sea, the sky, 

• The glorious sun, and all that GOD hath wrought ! 

^'■"AprnVilG [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 197 

That there ten thousand dainties they shall meet, 

Which by their mouths they shall with pleasure take ; 
Which shall be cordial too, as well as sweet, 
And of their little limbs, tall bodies make ! " 

This, would they think a fable ! even as we 
Do think the story of the Golden Age! 
Or as some sensual spirits amongst us be, 
Which hold the World to Come, " a feigned Stage ! '" 

Yet shall these infants, after, find all true ; 

Though, then, thereof, they nothing could conceive. 
As soon as they are born, the world they view. 
And with their mouths, the nurse's milk receive I 

So when the Soul is born (for Death is nought 

But the Soul's Birth, and so we should it call!) 
Ten thousand things She sees, beyond her thought ; 
And, in an unknown manner, knows them all 1 

Then doth She see by spectacles no more ! 
She hears not by report of double spies ! 
Herself, in instants, doth all things explore ! 
For each thing present, and before her lies ! 

But still this Crew, with questions me pursues ! 

4. ob>ction. " If Souls deceased," say they, " still living be. 
Why do they not return to bring us news 
Of that strange world, where they such wonders see?" 

Fond men ! if we believe that men do live 
Answer. Under the zenith of both frozen poles ; 

Though none come thence, advertisement to give ; 

Why bear we not the like faith of our Souls ? 

The Soul hath, here on earth, no more to do. 

Than we have business in our mother's womb ; 
What child doth covet to return thereto ? 
Although all children, first from thence do come ! 

198 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! pipru'tgT 

But as Noah's pigeon which returned no more, 
Did shew she footing found, for all the flood ! 
So when good Souls, departed through death's door, 
Come not again ; it shews their dwelling good 1 

And doubtless such a Soul as up doth mount. 
And doth appear before her Maker's face, 
Holds this vile world in such a base account. 
As She looks down and scorns this wretched place. 

But such as are detruded down to hell ; 

Either for shame, they still themselves retire ! 
Or tied in chains, they in close prison dwell ! 
And cannot come, although they much desire. 

*' Well, well," say these vain spirits, " though vain it is 
5. Objection, fo think our Souls to heaven or hell do go ; 
Politic men have thought it not amiss, 
To spread this lie, to make men virtuous so ! " 

Yyo you, then, think this moral Virtue, good ? 
Answer. \ think you do ! even for your private gain ! 

For commonwealths by Virtue ever stood ; 

And common good, the private doth contain. 

If then this Virtue, you do love so well ! 

Have you no means, her practice to maintain ? 

But you this lie must to the people tell ! 

" That good Souls live in joy, and ill in pain." 

Must Virtue be preserved by a lie ! 

Virtue and Truth do ever best agree. 

By this, it seems to be a verity, 

Since the effects so good and virtuous be. 

For as the Devil, father is of lies. 

So Vice and Mischief do his lies ensue. 

Then this good doctrine did he not devise, 

But made this Lie which saith, " It is not true ! " 

^i^ApruTi^:] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum ! 199 

For how can that be false, which every tongue, 
The Of every mortal man, affirms for true ! 

General Which truth hath, in all ages, been so strong, 
^onsen o ^^ loadstonc-like, all hearts it ever drew. 

For not the Christian or the Jew alone ; 

The Persian, or the Turk acknowledge this ! , 

This mystery to the wild Indian known, 
And to the Cannibal and Tartar, is ! 

This rich Assyrian drug grows everywhere. 
As common in the North, as in the East ! 
This doctrine doth not enter by the ear, 
But, of itself, is native in the breast 1 

None that acknowledge GOD, or Providence, 
Their Soul's eternity did ever doubt ! 
For all religion takes her root from hence ! 
Which no poor naked nation lives without. 

For since the world for Man created was, 

(For only Man, the use thereof doth know) 

If Man do perish like a withered grass, 

How doth GOD's wisdom order things below? 

And if that wisdom still wise ends propound. 

Why made He Man, of other creatures king ? 
When (if he perish here !) there is not found, 
In all the world so poor and vile a thing? 

If Death do quench us quite ; we have great wrong ! 

Since for our service, all things else were wrought : 
That daws, and trees, and rocks should last so long. 
When we must in an instant pass to nought ! 

But, blest be that Great Power ! that hath us blest 
With longer life, than heaven or earth can have ! 
Which hath infused into one mortal breast, 
Immortal Powers, not subject to the grave! 

200 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum / [^y'^ipr-iTs,": 

For though the Soul do seem her grave to bear, 
And in this world is almost buried quick ! 
We have no cause the Body's death to fear, 
" For when the shell is broke, out comes a chick ! ** 

For as the Soul's essential Powers are three, 

Three '^^^ Qulck'niug Power, the Power of Sense, and 

kinds of Reason ; 

answerable Thrcc klnds of Life to her designed be ! 

l^wer^or Which perfect these three Powers, in their due 

the SouL season. 

The first Life in the mother's womb is spent, 

Where She her Nursing Power doth only use ; 
Where, when She finds defect of nourishment, 
Sh' expels her body, and this world She views. 

This, we call Birth ! but if the child could speak, 
He, Death would call it ! and of Nature, 'plain 
That She should thrust him out naked and weak ! 
And in his passage, pinch him with such pain ! 

Yet, out he comes ! and in this world is placed. 
Where all his Senses in perfection be ! 
Where he finds flowers to smell, and fruits to taste. 
And sounds to hear, and sundry forms to see. 

When he hath passed some time upon this Stage, 
His Reason, then, a little seems to wake ! 
Which though She spring, when Sense doth fade with 

Yet can She here, no perfect practice make ! 

Then doth th' aspiring Soul, the Body leave ! 

Which we call Death. But were it known to all. 
What Life our Souls do, by this death, receive ; 
Men would it, Birth ! or Gaol Delivery ! call. 

^iprnTsS-] [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teipsum I 201 

2n this third Life, Reason will be so bright, 

As that her Spark will like the sunbeams shine 1 
And shall, of GOD enjoy the real sight. 
Being still increased by influence divine 1 

O ignorant poor Man ! what dost thou bear, 

An acclamation ! Lockcd Up within thc caskct of thy breast ! 

What jewels, and what riches hast thou there ! 

What heavenly treasure in so weak a chest ! 

Look in thy Soul ! and thou shalt beauties find, 

Like those which drowned Narcissus in the flood ! 
Honour and Pleasure both are in thy Mind ! 
And all that in the world is counted Good. 

Think of her worth ! and think that GOD did mean 
This worthy Mind should worthy things embrace ! 
Blot not her beauties, with thy thoughts unclean ! 
Nor her, dishonour with thy Passions base ! 

Kill not her Quick'ning Power with surfeitings ! 
Mar not her Sense with sensualities ! 
Cast not her serious Wit on idle things ! 
Make not her free Will slave to vanities ! 

And when thou thinkest of her Eternity; 

Think not that Death against her nature is ! 
Think it a Birth! and, when thou goest to die, 
Sing like a swan, as if thou vventst to bliss ! 

And if thou, like a child, didst fear before, 

Being in the dark, when thou didst nothing see! 
Now I have brought thee Torch-light, fear no more ! 
Now, when thou diest ; thou canst not hoodwinked be! 



202 [The Soul of Man.] Nosce teifsum ! pipruT. 

And thou, my Soul ! which turn'st thy curious eye, 
To view the beams of thine own form divine ! 
Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly, 
While thou are clouded with this flesh of mine ! 

Take heed of overweening \ and compare 

Thy peacock's feet, with thy gay peacock's train ! 
Study the he?,t and highest things that are ; 
But of thyself, an humble thought retain ! 

Cast down thyself ! and only strive to raise 
The glory of thy Maker's sacred name ! 
Use all thy powers, that Blessed Power to praise ! 
Which gives thee power to Be, and Use the same. 


The Third Voyage of Sir yoiiN Hawkins, 

I. — £; A R L I E g T TIDINQg OF THE DI^A^- 
TER Ijs( EjMQLAND, DeC. 1558 — J AN. 1569. 

3 Dec. 1568. W. Hawkins, junior, to Sir W. Cecil /• 205 

22 Jan. 1569. The same to the Privy Council ... ... ... p. 207 

22 Jan. 1569. The same to Sir W, Cecil p. 209 

27 Jan. 1569. The same to the same p. 211 

II. — Sir JoHj^ Hawkin?'^ own printed 

ACCOUNT, SpRINQ of 1569. 

A true Declaration of the troublesome Voyage of Mr. JOHN 
Hawkins to the parts of Guinea and the West Indies, in 
the years of our Lord 1567 and 1568 pp. 213-225 

III. — The Deposition? in the Enqli?h 
Admiralty Court, JVIarch, 1569. 

William Fowler, of Ratcliffe, Merchant /. 228 

William Clarke, Supercargo in the Fleet p. 230 

John Hawkins, Esq p. 231 

Humphrey FoNES, Steward of the ^;;f^/ p. 235 

Jean Turren, Trumpeter in the Jesus p. 236 

The Depositions to the Twenty-seven Articles of the Schedule pp. 237-248 

I Y . — T HE Karrative3 of Thf(ee 
Suf^vivor? of the 112 men landed 

NEAH TaJvIPICO on 8TH 0CT0BEF(, 156 8. 

David Ingram, who reached England in 1569 p. 249 

Miles Phillips, who arrived in England 1583 p. 261 

Job Hortop, who got home to England, at last, in 1590 ... p. 307 


TO THE Spaniard?, JVl a y — Sept. 1571. 

13 May 1571. John Hawkins to Lord Burghley p. 331 

7junei57i. The same to the same p- i^^ 

4 Sept. 1571. The same to the same p. m 


[This Third Voyage was the most important expedition that had hitherto been 
made by the English nation beyond the coasts of Europe. Of its numerical strength 
we have no precise record ; but it could hardly have been less than from 300 to 400 
men : a very considerable force for that time, to send on such a remote adventure. 

Its tragical fate, so far from being a discouragement to English seamen, only 
stang them to a manifold revenge ; and the baptism of blood at San Juan de Ulua 
was afterwards expiated in the plunder of many an unfortunate Spanish ship. 
Drake never rested till his "particular Indignation" of it was fully assuaged : 
and it was in pursuit of that object, that we see him (/, 535) on the nth February, 
1573, on the top of a very high tree on the dividing ridge of Central America, 
gazing, for the first time, on the Pacific Ocean ; which sight moved him to his 
famous Voyage round the World. 

On the other hand, we must consider the Spaniards' point of view. They were 
alarmed in the highest degree at seeing a strong English fleet at the very door of 
the Indies. If they came to San Juan de Ulua with impunity ; not Mexico itself, 
nor Peru, nor the annual galleons that came from the Philippine islands would be safe 
from these heretical islanders. We can appreciate their instant realisation of this 
menace to their power ; also their quick sense of insult at the impudent audacity of 
these Englishmen in coming thus unbidden to their hidden Treasure House ; and 
how both these motives would occasion an almost frenzied purpose to destroy them, 
any how, and at any cost. The stigma on them, therefore, comes not so much 
from their fighting, as from their supreme treachery : but they seem to have chosen 
treachery, as feeling they had no chance in a fair fight ; as indeed it actually turned 
out. For in the fight itself between the ships, Hawkins was the victor. It was 
the fired ships (a strange anticipation of those at Calais, twenty years later) that 
compelled the English to abandon the Jesus, and the vast treasure that she 

This Third Voyage is also memorable as being the first occasion on which English 
keels furrowed that hitherto unknown sea, the Bay of Mexico. The Spaniards had 
kept their West Indian navigations a dead secret. No foreigner, unless naturalised 
by marriage and a long residence in Spain, had a chance of obtaining a license to 
go to the West Indies, The English had no charts or maps to guide them, and 
had to grope their way as best they could ; often only by compelling the help of the 
local pilots whom they took prisoners. 

In those days, the English always entered the West Indies by the South, by 
Trinidad and the northern shore of South America ; and then felt their way north- 
wards as well as they were able : so that Mexico, though geographically much 
nearer to England, was considered by them as much more remote and less known. 
It was an excellent proof of Hawkins's good seamanship, that the Minion ever 
got out of the Bay of Mexico at all. It took them a month (16 Oct. — 16 Nov. 
1568, p. 225) to do so : whereas, once clear of the West Indies, he sailed across the 
much wider, but more familiar Atlantic in about six weeks' time.] 


I. — The JEJy^RLiE^T Tidinq^ of the 


William Hawkins, junior, Esq., 
Governor of Plymouth. 

[Seep. 294.] 

Letter^ on ^rd December^ 1568, to Sir 

W iL LI AM C EciL^ informing him. of 

Spanish reports of the destruction of 

his brother s Fleet in the Indies, 

[This letter may be taken as indubitable evidence of the kind inten- 
tions of the Spaniards in respect of John Hawkins's fleet, should they 
be able to carry them out ; for it was not possible that any news of the 
treachery and tragedy at San Juan de Ulua of the previous 23rd Septem- 
ber, could have got to Spain, and from thence to London, and so to 
Plymouth, in the seventy-two days which had since elapsed. Drake (in 
the Jtidith, a good sailer, p. 210, and coming straight home from the 
scene of the catastrophe), did not reach Plymouth till the 22nd January 
following, i.e., fifty days later than the date of this letter.] 

[State Papers. Domestic. ELIZABETH. Vol. a^Z. No. so\ 

Y BOUNDEN duty always had in remembrance. It 
may please your Honour to be advertised that 
there was certain news declared unto me by 
Master William Wynter, Esquire, and he 
should hear \}iad heard] it of Benedick Spinola, 
of a letter he should \}iad\ received out of Spain. GOD for- 
bid it should be true ! I hope it is but as the Spaniard 
would have it. 
The news should be {wai\ that my brother, John Haw- 
kins, was constrained to land, and to travel far 
into the land, to make his traffic : and so by a great 
number of men should be entrapped, and all put to 
the sword ; with a great loss to the Spaniards also. 

2o6 Forerunning rumour of the Disaster. [Yb"rS' 

But if it should be true, as GOD forbid ! I shall have 
cause to course them whiles I live, and my children after me. 
Wherefore, I shall desire your Honour to be so good in this 
cause, to call before your Honour, Benedick Spinola, 
and to require him to declare you the truth in this matter, 
and thereupon, as the cause requireth, to advertise the 
Queen's Majesty thereof; to the end there might be some 
Stay made of King Phillip's treasure here in these parts, 
till there be sufficient recompense made for the great 
wrong offered, and also other wrongs done before this. 

And if it shall not please the Queen's Majesty to meddle 
in this matter (although Her Majesty shall be the greatest 
loser therein !) yet that she would give her subjects leave 
to meddle with them by law ; and then, I trust, we should 
not only have recompense to the uttermost, but also do as 
good service as is to be devised, with so little cost. And I 
hope to please GOD best therein ; for that they are GOD's 
enemies ! 

This I thought good to advertise your Honour, to the end, 
I might thereby be blameless therein, and you, thereby, to 
see it redressed. 

There was an Act and Decree directed unto Sir Arthur 

Champernown and me, out of the [Lord] Admiral's Court, 

[ofj which [the] effect was, that, by both our consents, the 

ships with the goods sequestered in our hands should 

be delivered unto the Flemings ; and Master Kell and 

his [ac]complices, with their ships, to be released ; 

always reserving unto every one, for the false keeping 

and conservation of the ships and goods, their charges, 

taxed and allowed by Sir Arthur and me, or one of us. 

Which we have done accordingly; and now the Judge 

mindeth to alter all ; wherefore, if occasion shall serve, I 

shall desire your Honour's help herein. And I shall daily 

pray for your Honourable Estate long to endure. 

From Plymouth, the 3rd day of December, 1568. 
By your Honour's always to command, 

William Hawkins. 

Addressed — 

To the Right Honourable Sir William Cecil Knight, 
Secretary to the Queen's Majesty; give this, with all speed! 


William Hawkins, junior, Esq., 
Governor of Plymouth. 

Letter to the Privy Cou?tcil^ in the night of 

the 22nd January^ 15^9) (advising of 

the arrival at Plymouth that nighty 

of Francis Drake^ 

in the Judith. 

{State Papers. Domestic. ELIZABETH. Vol. ^(). A''(7. 37-3 

[At the time, William Hawkins was writi-ng this letter, his brother 
John was sailing homewards in the Minion, from Vigo to Mount's Bay in 
Cornwall : see pp. 211, 225.] 

Right Honourable, and my singular Good Lords. 

|Y BOUNDEN duty always had in remembrance. It 
may please your Honours to be advertised that 
there is, this present night, arrived into the 
port of Plymouth, one of the small barks {the 
* Judith] of my brother John Hawkins' Fleet, 
from the Indias ; and for that I have neither writing from 
him, nor anything else, I thought good, and my most bounden 
duty so to do, to send [to] your Honours, the Captain of the 
same bark, to the end the Queen's Majesty may be, by your 
Honours, thoroughly advertised of the whole proceedings of 
this Voyage. 

And for that my brother's safe return is very dangerous 
and doubtful, but that it resteth in GOD's hands (who send 
him well, if it be His blessed will !) ; and our adventures 
{i.e.^ of the two brothers' Hawkins], at this present time, 
jr2,ooo [= about ;^i6,ooo 7ww] : besides many injuries we 

2o8 The money stake of the two Hawkins. [?,*j"rS: 

have sustained at the Spaniards' hands heretofore. Where- 
fore, my humble suit unto your Honours is to, be a mean[s] 
unto the Queen's Majesty that I may be by some means, 
recompensed, as time and occasion hereafter shall serve ; 
either by some of those Spaniards' goods stayed in these 
West parts, or otherwise by some furtherance from the 
Queen's Majesty ; whereby I may the better be able to recom- 
pense myself against those nations that hath offered these 

And I shall daily pray for the long continuance of your 
Honour's estates, long to endure. 

From Plymouth, the 22nd day of January, anno 1568 
[i.e., 1569.J 

By your Honours always to command, 

William Hawkins. 

And further, if it shall please your Honours to have some 
consideration towards the poor state of our town. I assure 
your Honours, it is not, of itself, able to provide two hundred- 
weight of powder, without a collection amongst ourselves : 
and the inhabitants very poor besides. But to our powers, 
we will be found ready for the defence of the same. 

The great passing of Fleets, this summer [1568] , before 
our haven, either with fleeing out of Flanders (which GOD 
grant !) or otherwise the repair into Flanders out of Spain, 
with aid, may be a means whereby the town may be put 
to a great after deal : which GOD forbid ! Wherefore I 
shall desire your Honours to consider of it. 

This I thought good to advertise your Honours, for my 
own discharge. 

By your Honours always, 

William Hawkins. 

Addressed — 

To the Right Honourable and my singular good Lords, 
the Lords of the Privy Council ; give this at the Court with 
all speed. 

Haste ! Haste I 


William Hawkins, junior, Esq. 
Governor of Plymouth. 

Letter to Sir William Cecii^oh 

the sa?ne night of the 22 ncl 

ya72uary^ 1569. 

{State Papers. Domestic. ELIZAnmil. I'o/. ^g. AV. 36} 

Right H o n o u r a b l Ei 

Y BOUNDEN duty always had in remembrance. It 
may please your Honour to be advertised that 
this present hour there is come to Plymouth, one 
of the small barks of my brother's fleet ; and for 
that I have neither writing, nor anything else 
from him, I thought it good and my most bounden duty, to 
send you the Captain of the same bark, being our kinsmen, 
called Francis Drake ; for that he shall thoroughly inform 
your Honour of the whole proceedings of these affairs, to the 
end the Queen's Majesty may be advertised of the same. 

And for that it doth plainly appear of their manifest 
injuries from time to time offered; and our losses only in 
this Voyage £2,000 [= £16,000 Jiow] at least ; besides my 
brother's absence (which unto me is more grief than any 
other thing in this world), whom I trust, as GOD hath pre- 
served, will likewise preserve and send well home in safety : 
in the meantime, my humble suit unto your Honour is, 
that the Queen's Majesty will, when time shall serve, see 
me her humble and obedient subject, partly recompensed 
of those Spaniards' goods here stayed. And further, if it shall 
please Her Grace to give me leave to work my own force 
against them, to the end I may be the better recompensed : 
I shall be the more bound unto Her Highness: who I pray 

Ea'c. G/ir. v. ia 

2IO The Judith is a very good sailer. [T.'jar.'eg! 

GOD long to live to the Glory of GOD, and the comfort of 
her subjects. 

If I may have any warrant from Her Majesty, or from 
your Honour ; I shall be glad to set forth four ships of my 
own presently \at once]. 

I have already commission from the Cardinal Chatil- 
LiON for one ship to serve the Princes of Navarre and 
CoND£i : but I may not presume any further, without com- 

In these things, I shall desire your Honour to be adver- 
tised by my servant, Francis Drake ; and I shall daily pray 
for your Honour's estate long to endure. 

From Plymouth, the 20th of January, at night, 15GS 
[i.e., 1569J. 

By your Honour's, 

William Hawkins. 

For the small bark [the Judith] that is come home, if I 
might be so bold [as] to cause her to be [ap praised by four 
honest men, to the end the Adventurers might be duly 
answered ; I would, for that she is a veiy good sailer, bestow 
a ;^ioo f;£'8oo noio] upon her presently [at once]. 

Our town is very weak, and hath no help of the Prince : 
wherefore I shall most humbly desire your Honour to be a 
help for some allowance for us. 

By your Honour's, 

W I L L i A M Hawkins. 


To the Right Honourable Sir William Cecil, Chief 
Secretary to the Queen's Majesty ; give this, at the Court, 
with all speed 1 


William Hawkins, junior, Esq. 
Governor of Plymouth. 

Letter to Sir William Cecii^ of 

2']th ya7iuary^ 15^9? cin7iouncing the 

arrival of his brother at 

Mount^s Bay, 

[State Papers. Domestic. ELIZABETH. Jol^q. No. ^2.'\ 

Right Honourable. 

Y BOUNDEN duty always had in remembrance. It 
may please your Honour to be advertised, that I 
am credibly informed of my brother's arrival [on 
the 2Sth January, see p. 225] with the Minion, in 
Mount's Bay, in Cornwall. Not from him, nor 
any of his company; but by one of the Mount, [who] for 
good will, came immediately away in post, upon the speech 
of one of his men who was sent aland for help of men, and 
also for cables and anchors, for that they had but one : and 
their men [are] greatly weakened by reason he put ashore [on 
the 8th of October, 15681 in the Indias, a hundred of his men, 
for the safeguard of the rest ; and also that he should [had] 
cast overboard, not five days before [i.e., between the ^rd — 8tk 
of October, 1^68] forty-five men more; and the rest, being 
alive, were fain to live seven days upon an ox-hide. 

Whereupon, the wind being easterly; I sent away for his 
succour, a bark with thirty- four mariners, store of fresh 
victuals, two anchors, three cables, and store of small warps, 
with other necessaries, as I thought good. 

2 1 2 The Spanish treasure sent to London. r^Jj V.^^-^^' 

I am assured to hear from himself, this night at the 
furthest; and then I will certify your Honour, with speed, 

And so, for this time, I leave to trouble your Honour any 
further; praying for the increase of your Honour's estate. 

From Plymouth, the 27th of January, 1568 [i.e., 1569J. 

Sir Arthur Champernown hath willed me to advertise 
your Honour, that, to-morrow next, he mindeth depart out 
of Plymouth, with all the treasure, towards Exeter ; and to 
be there, the next day following, where he mindeth to stay 
till Saturday next following. He mindeth to provide, for 
the safe conduct of the same, fifty horsemen, and fifty foot- 
men, with artillery and things necessary for the same ; which 
this bearer can declare to your Honour all at large : and then 
to come with the treasure, with as much diligence as is 
possible. Praying your Honour to advertise, by post, if this 
determination like you not ; and he will be willing to follow 
your Honour's determination to the contrary. 

From Plymouth, nt supra. 

By your Honour's, always to command, 

William Hawkins. 

Addt'essed — 

To the Right Honourable Sir William Cecil Knight, 
Chief Secretary to the Queen's Majesty; give this, at the 
Court, with all haste possible. 

Haste! Haste! Post Haste! 

« a true 

tieclaratton of tije 

troublesome SUopage of 

part0 of d^utnca atiD tl)c 

mm 3nt)tc0, in tl)e 

rcar0 of our LorD 

1567 auD 1568. 

IT Jmpnntcn at Lonnon, 

in IpauPs Cfjurc[)i?acti, bp Ct)oma5 

Ipurfoot for Lucao i^arrison, 

Dtuclling at tf)C sign 

of tfjc Crane. 

j^mio. 1569. 


^ Here followeth a Note or Declaration of 

the troublesome Voyage made with the 

Jesus, the Minion, and four other 

ships to the parts of Guinea i?i tlie 

years 1567 and 1568, by 

y OHN Ha wkj ns. 

He ships departed from Plymouth, the 2nd 
day of October, anno 1567 ; and had reason- 
able weather until the 7th day, at which 
time, some 40 leagues north from Cape 
Finisterre, there arose an extreme storm, 
which continued four days, in such sort 
that the fleet was dispersed, and all our 
^rtat boats lost, and the Jesus, our chief 
ship, in such case as not thought able to serve the voyage : 
whereupon, in the same storm, we set our course homeward, 
determining to give over the voyage. But the nth day of 
the same month, the wind changed, with fair weather : 
whereby we were animated to follow our enterprise ; and so 
did, directing our course to the isles of the Grand Canaries ; 
where, according to an order before prescribed, all our ships, 
i)efore dispersed, met in one of those islands, called Gomera. 
There we took water, and departed from thence, the 4th 
day of November, towards the coast of Guinea ; and arrived 

2i6 Kidnapping on the African Coast, p'^prbrl'seg: 

at Cape de Verde the i8th day of November, where we 
landed 150 men, hoping to obtain some Negroes : where 
we got but few, and those with great hurt and damage to our 
men, which chiefly proceeded of their envenomed arrows. 
And although in the beginning, they seemed to be but small 
hurts : yet there hardly escaped any that had blood drawn of 
them, but died in strange sort, with their mouths shut some 
ten days before they died, and after their wounds were whole. 
Where I myself had one of the greatest wounds ; yet, thanks 
be to GOD ! escaped. 

From thence, we passed the time upon the coast of Guinea, 
searching with all diligence the rivers, from Rio Grande unto 
Sierra Leone, till the 12th of January [1568] ; in which time, 
we had not got together 150 Negrose [Nc/^Toes] : yet, not- 
withstanding the sickness of our men, and the late time of 
the year commanded us away. 

Thus having nothing wherewith to seek the coast of the 
West Indias, I was, with the rest of our company, in consul- 
tation, to go to the Coast of the Mine [El Mina, near Cape 
Coast Castle] ; hoping there to have obtained some gold for our 
wares, and thereby to have defended [defrayed] our charges : 
but even, in that present instant, there came to us a Negro 
sent from a king oppressed by other kings his neighbours, 
desiring our aid, with promise that as many Negrose as by 
these wars might be obtained, as well of his part as of ours, 
should be at our pleasure. 

Whereupon we concluded to give aid, and sent 120 of our 
men ; which the 15th of January [1568] assaulted a town of 
the Negrose [Negroes], our ally's adversaries, which had in it 
8,000 inhabitants. It was very strongly impaled and fenced, 
after their manner 5 and it was so well defended that our men 
prevailed not, but lost six men,and forty hurt. So that our men 
sent forthwith to me for more help : whereupon considering 
that the good success of this enterprise might highly further 
the commodity of our voyage, I went myself; and with the 
help of the King of our side, assaulted the town, both by land 
and sea : and very hardly, with fire (their houses being covered 
with dry palm leaves), obtained the town and put the inhabi- 
tants to flight. 

There we took 250 persons (men, women, and children), 
and by our friend the King of our side, there were taken 600 

^''s>uirS9-] ^^^^ ^f' '"^ Haciia again occuriKi). 217 

prisoners whereof we hoped to have had our choice : but the 
Negro (in which nation is seldom or never found the truth) 
nrjeant nothing less. For that night, he removed his camp 
and prisoners : so that we were fain to be content with those 
few, which we had got ourselves. 

I1 Now had we obtained between 400 and 500 Negrose, 
wherewith we thought it somewhat reasonable to seek the 
coast of the West Indians; and there for our Negrose and 
our other merchandise, we hoped to obtain whereof to counter- 
vail our charges, with some gains. 

Whereunto we proceeded with all diligence, furnished our 
watering, took fuel, and departed the coast of Guinea, the 
3rd of February, continuing at the sea, with a passage more 
hard than before hath been accustomed, till the 27th day of 
March, on which day, we had sight of an island called 
Dominica, upon the coast of the West Indies, in 14° N. 

From thence, we coasted from place to place, making our 
traffic with the Spaniards as we might ; somewhat hardly, 
because the King had straitly commanded all his Governors 
in those parts, by no means, to suffer any trade to be made 
with us. 

Notwithstanding, we had reasonable trade and courteous 
entertainment, from the isle of Margarita, unto Cartagena, 
without anything greatly worth the noting : saving at Cape 
de la Vela, in a town called Rio de la Hacha (from whence 
come all the pearls), the Treasurer [Captain John Lovell 
with young FRANCIS DRAKE {then on his first visit to West 
Indies, had thought themselves wronged here, in 1565-66 {see 
p. 494.) See also the previous armed occupation of the town in 
1565, cit p. 144) who had charge there, would, by no means, 
agree to any trade, or suffer us to take water. He had 
fortified his town with divers Bulwarks [forts] in all places 
where it might be entered; and furnished himself with a 
hundred harquebussiers : so that he thought to have enforced 
us by famine [inJuding thirst, to have put a land our 
Negrose. Of which purpose, he had not greatly failed, 
unless we had by force entered the town : which (after we 
could by no means obtain his favour) we were enforced to do. 
And so, with 200 men, brake in upon their Bulwarks, and 
entered the town ; with the loss of only two men of our part ; 

2 18 They seek Florida first, then Mexico. pip^rS,*. 

and no hurt done to the Spaniards ; because after their volley 
of shot discharged, they all fled. 

H Thus having the town, with some circumstance [negotia- 
tions], as partly by the Spaniards' desire of Negroes, and partly 
by the friendship of the Treasurer, we obtained a secret trade : 
whereupon, the Spaniards resorted to us by night, and bought 
of us to the number of 200 Negroes. 

In all other places, where we traded, the Spanish inhabi- 
tants were glad of us, and traded willingly. 

At Cartagena, the last town we thought to have seen on 
the coast, we could, by no means, obtain to come with any 
Spaniard ; the Governor was so strait. And because our 
trade was so near[ly] finished, we thought it not good either 
to adventure any landing, or to detract further time ; but, in 
peace, departed from thence, the 24th of July: hoping to 
have escaped the time of their storms, which then, soon after, 
begin to reign ; the which they call Fi^ricanos [hurricanes]. 

But passing by the west end of Cuba, towards the coast 
of Florida, there happened to us, the 12th day of August, an 
extreme storm, which continued by the space of four days; 
which did so beat the Jesus, that we cut down all her higher 
buildings: her rudder also was sore[ly] shaken, and withal 
she was in so extreme a leak, that we were rather upon the 
point to leave her, than to keep her any longer. 

Yet hoping to bring all to good pass, we sought the coast 
of Florida ; where we found no place nor haven for our ships, 
because of the shallowness of the coast. 

Thus being in greater despair, and taken with a new storm 
which continued another three days; we were enforced to 
take for our succour the port which serveth the city of Mexico, 
called Saint John de Lye [San Jttan de Ulua] ; which standeth 
in 19° N. 

In seeking of which port, we took, in our way, three ships, 
which carried passengers to the number of a hundred : which 
passengers we hoped should be a means to us, the better to 
obtain victuals for our money, and a quiet place for the re- 
pairing of our fleet. 

Shortly after this, the i6th of September, we entered the 
port of Saint Jon de lue [San Juan de Ulna] ; and in our 
entry, the Spaniards thinking us to be the Fleet of Spain, the 

^''irhlrS'] Arrival at San Juan de Ulua. 219 

Chief Officers of the country came aboard us : who, being 
deceived of their expectation, were greatly dismayed ; but 
immediately when they saw our demand was nothing but 
victuals, were recomforted. 

I found also in the same port, twelve ships which had in 
them, by report £"200,000 [ = nearly two iiiillions sterling now] 
in gold and silver. All which, being in my possession, with 
the King's island, as also the passengers before stayed in my 
way thitherward, I set at liberty, without the taking from 
them, the weight of a groat. 

Only because I would not be delayed of my despatch, I 
stayed two men of estimation ; and sent post immediately to 
Mexico (which was 200 miles from us) to the Presidents and 
Council there, shewing them of our arrival there, by the force 
of weather, and the necessity of the repair of our ships, and 
victuals: which wants we required, as friends to King Phillip, 
to be furnished of for our money: and that the Presidents 
and Councilthere, should with all convenient speed take order 
that, at the arrival of the Spanish Fleet, which was daily 
looked for, there might no cause of quarrel rise between us 
and them ; but for the better maintenance of amity, their 
commandment might be had in that behalf. 

This message was sent away the i6th day of September, 
at night, being the very day of our arrival. 

In the next morning, which was the 17th day of the same 
month, we saw open of the haven thirteen great ships; and 
understanding them to be the Fleet of Spain, I sent immedi- 
ately to advertise the General of the Fleet, of my being there : 
giving him to understand that " Before I would suffer them to 
enter the port, there should be some order of Conditions 
passed between us, for our safe being there, and maintenance 
of peace." 

Now it is to be understood, that this port Is a little island 
of stones, not three feet above the water in the highest place ; 
and but a bow shot of length any way. This island standeth 
from the mainland, two bow shots or more. Also it is to be 
understood that there is not in all this coast, any other place 
for ships to arrive in safety, because the north wind hath 
there such violence that, unless the ships be very safely 
moored with their anchors fastened upon this island : there 

2 20 The Fleet of Spain off the Harbour, [^"i^, 

. HawVins. 
ring 1569. 

is no remedy for [on account of] the north winds, but death. 
Also the place of the haven was so little, that, of necessity, 
the ships must ride one aboard [touching] the other : so that 
we could not give place to them, nor they to us. 

And here I began to bewail that which after followed, for 
now, said I, " I am in two dangers ; and forced to receive the 
one of them." That was, either I must have kept the Fleet 
from entering the port, the which, with GOD's help, I was 
very well able to do : or else suffer them to enter in, with 
their accustomed treason, which they never fail to execute 
where they may have opportunity, or circumvent it by any 
means. If I had kept them out, then had there been present 
shipwreck of all the Fleet, which amounted in value to 
6,000,000 [crowns] which was in value [at 6s. the crown] 
^1,800,000 [ = abou't four millions and a half now] which I 
considered I was not able to answer ; fearing the Queen's 
Majesty's indignation in so weighty a matter. 

Thus revolving with myself the doubts ; I thought it 
rather better to abide the jutt of the uncertainty, than the 
certainty. The uncertain doubt I accounted, was their 
treason ; which, by good policy, I hoped might be prevented : 
and therefore as choosing the least mischief, I proceeded to 

Now was our first messenger come and returned from the 
Fleet, with report of the arrival of a Viceroy ; so that he 
had authority both in all this Province of Mexico otherwise 
called Nova Hispania, and in the sea. Who sent us word 
that " We should send our Conditions, which, of his part, 
should (for the better maintenance of amity between the 
Princes), be both favourably granted, and faithfully per- 
formed " : with many fair words, " how passing the coast 
of the Indies, he had understood of our honest behaviour 
towards the inhabitants where we had to do ; as well else- 
where, as in the same port," the which I let pass. 

Thus following our demand, we required, 

Victuals for our money, and license to sell as much 
wares as might furnish our wants. 

That there might be, of either part, twelve gentlemen 
as hostages for the maintenance of peace. 

That the island, for our better safety, might be in our 
own possessii)n. during our abode there ; and such ord- 

^'spS'S-] Conditions of Peace are troclaimed. 221 

nance as was planted in the same island : which were 
eleven pieces of brass. 

And that no Spaniard might land in the island, with 
any kind of weapon. 

These Conditions, at the first, he somewhat misliked ; 
chiefly the guard of the island to be in our own keeping : which 
if they had had, we had soon known our fare. For with the 
first north wind, they had cut our cables, and our ships had 
gone ashore. But in the end, he concluded to our request, 
bringing the twelve hostages [down] to ten : which, with all 
speed, of either part, were received ; with a writing from the 
Viceroy signed with his hand, and sealed with his seal, of all 
the Conditions concluded. 

Forthwith a trumpet was blown ; with commandment, that 
none, of either part, should be means to violate the peace, 
upon pain of death. 

And further, it was concluded, that the two Generals of 
the Fleets should meet, and give faith each to the other, 
for the performance of the premisses. Which was so done. 

Thus at the end of three days, all was' concluded ; and the 
Fleet entered the port : we saluting one another, as the 
manner of the sea doth require. 

Thus, as I said berore, Thursday [i6th], we entered the 
port ; Friday [lyth], we saw the Fleet ; and on Monday [20th] 
at night, they entered the port. 

Then we laboured two days, placing the English ships by 
themselves, and the Spanish ships by themselves ; and the 
Captains of each part, and inferior men of their parts, 
promising great amity of all sides. Which even, as with all 
fidelity, was meant of our part : so the Spaniards meant 
nothing less of their parts : but having furnished themselves 
from the mainland, with a supply of men, to the number of 
1,000 ; they meant, the next Thursday, being the 23rd of 
September, at dinner time, to set upon us, of all sides. 

The same Thursday, in the morning, the treason being at 
hand, some appearance shewed; as shifting of weapons from 
ship to ship, planting and bending of ordnance from the ship 
to the island where our men warded, passing to and fro of 
companies of men more than required for their necessary 
business, and many other ill likelihoods, which caused us to 

222 Unmasking of the Spaniards' treason. [^''ip"g*!'^6*: 

have a vehement suspicion ; and therewithal, sent to the 
Viceroy, to inquire what was meant by it. 

Who sent, immediately, straight commandment to unplant 
all suspicious things; and also sent word that "he, on 
the faith of Viceroy, would be our defence from all 

Yet we, not being satisfied with this answer (because we 
suspected a great number of men to be hid in a great ship, of 
900 tons, which was moored next unto the Minion), sent again 
to the Viceroy, the Master of the Jesus (who had the Spanish 
tongue), and required to be satisfied if any such thing were, 
or not. 

The Viceroy seeing that the treason must be discovered ; 
forthwith stayed our Master, blew the trumpet, and set upon 
us of all sides. 

Our men, which warded ashore, being stricken with 
sudden fear, gave place, fled, and sought to recover succour 
from the ships. The Spaniards, being provided before for 
the purpose, landed in all places in multitudes from their 
ships, which they might easily do without boats ; and slew 
all our men ashore without mercy. A few them of escaped 
aboard the Jesits [pp. 317, 330]. 

The great ship, which had by the estimation, 300 men 
secretly placed in her, immediately fell aboard the Minion ; 
which (by GOD's appointment) (in the time of suspicion we 
had, which was only half an hour) the Minion was made 
ready to avoid, and so loosing her head fasts, and hauling 
away by the stern fasts she was gotten out. Thus, with 
GOD's help, she defended the violence of the first brunt of 
these 300 men. 

The Minion being passed out, they came aboard the Jesus ; 
which also with very much ado, and the loss of many of our 
men, was defended, and they kept out. 

Then were there also two other ships that assaulted the 
Jestis at the same instant; so that she had [a] hard getting 
loose : but yet, with some time, we had cut our head fasts, 
and gotten out by the stern fasts. 

Now when the Jesus and the Minion were gotten abroad, 
two ships' length from the Spanish Fleet, the fight began hot 
of all sides [that is, outside or in the mouth of the harbour] : so 
that, within one hour, the admiral [Flag Ship] of the Spaniards 

^''sprSrSgJ Sinking of English and Spanish Ships. 223 

<vas supposed to be sunk, their vice admiral burned, and one 
other of their principal ships supposed to be sunk. So that 
the ships were little able to annoy us. 

Then it is to be understood that all the ordnance upon the 
Island was in the Spaniards' hands, which did us so great 
annoyance, that it cut all the masts and yards of the Jesus ; 
in such sort that there was no hope to carry her away. Also 
it sank all our small ships. 

Whereupon, we determined to place the Jesus on that side 
of the Minion, that she might abide all the battery from the 
land, and so be a defence for the Minion till night ; and 
then to take such relief of victuals and other necessaries 
from the Jesus, as time would suffer us, and so to leave her. 

As we were thus determining, and had placed the Minion 
[away] from the shot of the land ; suddenly, the Spaniards 
had fired two great ships, which were coming directly with 

Having no means to avoid the fire, it bred among our men 
a marvellous fear : so that some said, " Let us depart with 
the Minion ! " Others said, " Let us see whether the wind 
will carry the fire from us ! " But, to be short, the Minion's 
men, which had always their sails in a readiness, thought to 
make sure work ; and so, without either consent of the Captain 
or Master, cut their sail ; so that, very hardly, I was re- 
ceived into the Minion. 

The most part of the men that were left alive in the Jesus, 
made shift, and followed the Minion in a small boat. The rest, 
which the little boat was not able to receive, were enforced to 
abide the mercy of the Spaniards; which I doubt was very little. 

So with the Minion only, and the Judith, a small bark of 
50 tons, we escaped : which bark, the same night, forsook us 
in our great misery. 

We were now removed with the Minion from the Spanish 
ships two bow shots ; and there rode all that night. 

The next morning [2^th\, we recovered an island, a mile 
from the Spaniards : where there took us a north wind : and 
being left only with two anchors and two cables (for in this 
conflict, we lost three cables and two anchors), we thought 
always upon death, which ever was present ; but GOD pre- 
served us to a longer time. 

The weather waxed reasonable, and the Saturday [2$th] we 

2 24 Fearful Famine on board the M/x/ox. \^''' l^li^zf^t 

set sail ; and having a great number of men and little victuals, 
our hope of life waxed less and less. Some desired to yield 
to the Spaniards. Some rather desired to obtain a place, 
where they might give themselves to the infidels [Indians]. 
And some hath rather abide with a little pittance, the mercy 
of GOD at sea. 

So thus, with many sorrowful hearts, we wandered in an 
unknown sea, by the space of fourteen days, till hunger 
enforced us to seek the land. For hides were thought very 
good meat ; rats, cats, mice, and dogs, none escaped that 
might be got. Parrots and monkeys that were had in great 
price [were great pets] were thought there very profitable if 
they served the turn of one dinner. 

Thus, in the end, the 8th day of October, we came to the 
land, in the bottom [or rather, at the east] of the Bay of 
Mexico in 33j' N. lat., where we hoped to have found 
inhabitants of the Spaniards, relief of victuals, and 
place fur the repair of our ship : which was so sore beaten 
with shot from our enemies, and bruised with [the] shooting 
of our own ordnance ; that our weary and weak arms were 
scarce able to defend and keep out the water. [They would 
have found all the three things they needed, had they struck the 
coast ten leagues to the westward, where Tampico was situated, at 
the mouth of the Panuco ; see p. 274.] 

But all things happened to the contrary, for we found 
neither people, victuals, nor haven of relief; but a place, 
where, having fair weather, we might, with some peril, land a 

Our people being forced with hunger, desired to be set a 
land; whereunto I concluded. And such as were willing to 
land, I put them apart ; and such as were desirous to go 
homewards, I put apart. So that they were indifferently 
parted ; a hundred [the exact nuuibcr landed was 112, see p. 275J 
of one side, and a hundred of the other side. 

These hundred men we set a land, with all diligence, in 
this little place before said : which being landed, we deter- 
mined there to refresh our water; and so, with our little 
remain of victuals, to take the sea. 

The next day, having a land with me, fifty of our hundred 
men that remained, for the speedier preparing of our water 

^'' SprhirJs'eS ^ ^ ^ •'^^ ^^' -^ N T O X L Y REACH E X C) L A X D . 225 

aboard ; there arose an extreme storm ; so that, in three days 
we could by no means repair to our ship. The ship also was 
in such peril, that, every hour, we looked for shipwreck; but 
yet GOD again had mercy on us, and sent fair weather. 

We had aboard our water, and departed the i6th of 
October ; after which day, we had fair and prosperous weather 
till the i6th of November, which day, GOD be praised ! we 
were clear from the coast of the Indians, and out of the 
channel and Gulf of Bahama, which is between the Cape of 
Florida, and the island of Cuba. 

After this, growing near to the cold country; our men 
being oppressed with famine, died continually : and they that 
were left, grew into such weakness, that we were scarcely able 
to manure [manoeuvi'e] our ship. 

The wind being always ill for us to recover England, we 
determined to go with Galicia in Spain ; with the intent there 
to relieve our company, and other extreme wants. 

Being arrived the last day of December in a place near 
unto Vigo, called Ponte Vedra, our men, with excess of fresh 
meat, grew into miserable diseases; and a great part of them 

This matter was borne out [i.e.^ their crippled condition was 
concealed] as long as it might be : but in the end, although 
there was none of our men suffered to go a land : yet, by the 
access of the Spaniards, our feebleness was known to them ; 
whereupon they ceased not to seek by all means to betray us. 

But, with all speed possible, we departed to Vigo ; where 
we had some help of certain English ships, and twelve fresh 
men wherewith we repaired our wants as we might. 

And departing, the 20th of January, 1569, we arrived in 
Mount's Bay in Cornwall, the 25th of the same month. 
Praised be GOD therefore ! 

^ If all the miseries and troublesome affairs of this 
Sorrowful Voyage should be perfectly and thoroughly 
written; there should need a painful man with his pen, and 
as great a time as he [i.e., John Fox] had, that wrote the 
Lives and Deaths of the Martyrs. John Hawkins. 


r..\r.. GAR. V. It 


11. — The Deposit I0N3 in the Enqli^h 
Admiraj-ty Court. 

The Depositions in the Achniralty Court 
as to the Fight at San Juati de Ulua^ 
and the Rngiish losses there sustained^ 
2'7,rd March^ ^S^9' 

Hese are preserved in Sf^fe Papers, Dom. Elis., July, 1569, 
Vol. 53, in the Public Record Office, London ; and throw a 
flood of light on many incidents of the fight, and on the 
prices of Negroes and other "wares" in the West Indies at 
this time. 

The Depositions were made to eleven Interrogatories, and to a Schedule 
of values consisting of twenty-seven Items. The answers vary in impor- 
tance as in fulness, according to the opportunities and position of the 
several Deponents in the fleet. The whole purpose of the Depositions 
was to get up the biggest possible bill against the King of Spain for the 
injuries received ; as a justification and groundwork for further attacks on 
him : as Drake thought and afterwards did, see/. 494. 

We first give the testimony of one of the earliest of English trafficers 
in Spanish ships, to Mexico ; but who, however, was ;w/ with Hawkins in 
any of these \'oyages. His deposition was evidently made to show, by an 
independent and competent authority, what were the current prices at 
Vera Cruz and the city of Mexico, of such goods as Hawkins had been 
spoiled of at San Juan de Ulua. 

Principally, from this witness, WiLLlAM Fowler, we get the following 
table of monetary values, on the basis, as monetary unit, of the Rial de 
Plata, the "Rial of Silver" then roughly considered as eqaal to the 
English Sixpence {See Vol. III. p. 184). 




I560-I580 A.D. 







Peso of 

Peso of 

value X 8.] 

S. d. 





5 0(p.285) 

Peso. Cor/gn/e silver... 


= I 


5 6 

Spanish Ducat 

The normal Peso de 

I I 


6 8 

Plata in the West ■ 


The Peso de Plata in 


= 1- 



Mexico, Peru, and 
the inland districts 
of the Spanish Main. 


= I 



[8 3/. 54 

Peso d'Oro 




-- 1 + 


32 6 

Mark/. 285 




* Thisi.s what is meant, when the word Peso only is used. It was an English ounce (iroy 
weight) of silver ; and was the monetar>' Unit of Central America ; afterwards known as the 
Piece of Eight, and is the Me.xican dollar of the pre.^ient day. [The English Mint value for which 
is about 4s. 3d., it being below the English Standard of fineness.— Kbllv, Cambist, \. agi. Ed. 

t Always distinguished as the Peso 0/ Gold. 

In order to get some approximate corresponding modem value ; the 
equivalents multiplied by eight are shown within square brackets [ ]. 
Some of the amounts seem marvellously great : but, of course, Hawkins 
only took those things with him which brought the highest prices ; and 
that was why he stained himself and England with Negro-hunting and 
Negro slavery. 

Although it is no justification whatever, it is clear, from p. 242, that 
Hawkins learnt the trade of slave-hunting from the French and Portu- 

Then we have in the State Papers,ih.Q depositions of Sir John Hawkins 

Suppressing all legal verbiage, we give the substance of his depositions ; 
and then add any additional points from those of the following eye-wit- 

[Captain Thomas Hampton, at. 44, Captain of the Muiio)i.] 
William Clarke, at. 28, one of the four Merchants [Supercars^ors] 
appointed for the fleet ; who, sailing in the William and John, 
escaped the Fight. 

John Tom.mes, at. 27, servant to Sir John, and sailing with him 
in the Jesus. 
Jean Turren, at. 30, Trumpeter of the Jesus. 
Humphrey Fones, cet. 25, Steward of the Angel. 
It is curious that there is no deposition by Drake included in this 
.Series, though he was present at the Fight. 

The William and John was not at the Fight ; but was represented, as 
the sixth ship of the original .Squadron, by a caravel captured at sea, and 
christened the (Jrace of God. What a name for a fleet of slaver*; ! 


IV I L LI A M F w LE R^ of RutcUffe^ in 

the kingdojn of England^ met^chant^ of 

about 3 8 years of age ; witnesseth^ 

E knoweth shipping to be very dear both at 
Seville in Andalusia, in Spain; and at the 
harbour of la Vera Cruz \the true Cros.s] in 
the West Indias. For the ton freight is 30 
Ducats [=£"8 5s.=;^66 now] from Seville 
to la Vera Cruz ; and so much money 
more, from la Vera Cruz to Seville : which, 
in the whole, is 60 Ducats [;£'i6 ios.= 
;f 132 now\ the ton freight. 

For he hath traded from Seville, to the said port of la Vera 
Cruz, [the city of] Mexico, and other places in the West 
Indies ; hath been there six several times; hath carried wares 
to and fro, from the same places ; and hath paid for freight, 
after the like rate. 

That by the experience of the trade which he hath had to and 
at the said place, called la Vera Cruz, and other the chief 
places of the West Indias ; this Deponent knoweth that a 
Negro of a good stature and young of years is worth, and is 
commonly bought and sold there at Mexico, and the Mainland 
of the West Indias, for 400, 500, and 600 peso^ [ = ;£'ioo, 
£'i-2^^ or £150=0;' about £^00, /"ijooo, or ;£'i,200 now'\. 

For if a Negro be a Bossale, that is to say, *' ignorant 
of the Spanish or Portuguese tongue," then he or she is 
commonly sold for 400 and 450 pesos [=£100 or j^ii2 


But if the Negro can speak any of the foresaid 
languages anything indifferently, who is called Ladinos, 
then the same Negro is commonly sold for 500 and 600 
pesos [=/^i25, or ^150] ; as the Negro is of choice, and 
young of years. 

«3 M^ri^rS] The current prices at Vera Cruz. 


And this Deponent saith that the best trade in those places 
is of Negroes : the trade whereof he hath used, and hath sold 
Negroes at the said places ; and seen other merchants likewise 
sell their Negroes there, divers times. 

Which Negroes, being carried into the inner and farther 
parts of the Mainland of Peru, be commonly sold there for 
800 and goo pesos of 14 Rials. [The inland price of a Negro 
therefore varied from ;£'28o to £^i^=about /2,24o to ^^2,480'. 

The Peso being worth at la Vera Cruz" 13 Rials of Plate 
of the Spanish coin, being 6s. 8d. sterling: and in other 
places of Mexico, Peru, and Mainland the said Peso is worth 
14 Rials, which is ys. sterling. 

A Fardel of Linen Cloth called Ordmardas or Prcselias, is 
worth and commonly sold at la Vera Cruz for 250 pesos 
of 13 Rials [@ 6s. 8d.=about £8^] which is after the rate of 
3,250 Rials the Fardel. 

And the Linen Cloth called Roanes is sold there after the 
rate of 226 pesos the Fardel, which is 2,940 Rials. For this 
Deponent hath sold, and seen other merchants sell, divers 
times. Linen Cloth after that rate at la Vera Cruz and Mexico. 

That a lb. of Magaritas [? Periwinkles ; the word also means 
Pearls] is worth at la Vera Cruz, 18 and 20 Rials [ = gs. and 
ios. = £^ I2S. and £^ now] for he hath sold, and seen other 
merchants so sell, there, commonly after that rate. Notwith- 
standing he saith that he hath sold a lb. of Margaritas 
at la Vera Cruz for 30 Rials and sometime 3 pesos (39 Rials) 
[ = 155. and igs. 6d. = £6 and £'/ 16s. now]. 

That pewter vessel and kerseys called " Hampshire " and 
" Northerns " be commonly worth and sold at la Vera Cruz 
for the several prices following, 

I lb. (being 16 ounces) of Pewter at 4, and sometimes 
5 Rials [2s. and 2s. 6d. = i6s. and £1 now]. 

The good "Hampshire Kersey," containing commonly 
18 Vares [The Vare zcas ;^^^} English inches. Kelly, idem.], 
which is about 17 English yards; at 36 ducats [7chich is 
after 2 ducats, or 22 Rials the ]\vc\ 

230 The Deposition of William Fowler. [^3 mI^chTS: 

And the " Northern Kersey" [of the same length], for 

21^ ducats [=234 Rials] which is after 13 Rials the 


A piece of Cotton of 61 Vares [about 57 yards] of length, 

is worth and is commonly sold at la Vera Cruz for 30^ ducats 

which is after 5^ Rials [=2s. gd.] the Vare [or nearly 3s, a Yard]. 

A Quintall [100 lbs.] of Wax is worth commonly at Vera 
Cruz, 40 ducats [^£ii=aboitt ;^88 jww]. 

A Butt [130 gallons] of Seek [Sack, i.e., our modern Sherry] 
is worth commonly at la Vera Cruz, 100 pesos [£33 6s. 8d. 
= about £"266 noii']. 

Depositions Ap to the Fiqht, etc. 
T^he Deposition ^William Clarke. 

E WAS entertained by Sir William Garrard and 
others of the Company to sail in the said fleet as 
a Merchant [Supercargo], to assist the said John 
Hawkins in state of traffic, and making accounts 
of the same voyage : and sailed in the William 
and John. 

All the treasure was, immediately after the traffic, brought 
on board the Jesus of Lubeck, and left there, by the consent 
and knowledge of this Deponent, in the custody of the said 
John Hawkins, to the use of the said Company. 

The 3^200 of plate was put in a chest ; and the 22,000 
Pesos of Gold into little chests and bags. 

This Examinate was present at all the traffics and truck of 
merchandize ; and was commonly aboard the Jesus while she 
remained upon any coast where the traffic was : being one of 
four specially appointed, which made also the accounts, and 
kept the same. 

Being near Cape St. Antonio, the William and John, 
wherein this Deponent then sailed, was separated from the 
other ships of the Fleet, in a great storm happening about 

S^^a^rSG Sworn Depositions as to the Fight. 231 

the 15th day of August last. Since which time he never had 
sight of the said Fleet ; but was driven to and from, with 
much contrary winds, till, at the last, the William and John, 
without any other company of ships, arrived upon the coast 
of Ireland, in the month of February last [1569]. 

The Deposition of John Hawkins, Esq. 

N THE year 1567, the articulate Sir William 
Garrard Knight, Rowland Heyward Alder- 
man of London, and others joined with them in 
Society and Company, did furnish a Fleet of six 
ships for a voyage to the coast of Guinea and 
other foreign regions, for merchandize to be had with the 
inhabitants of those countries. In which respect, they, the 
said Sir William Garrard and Company, did also then 
provide, prepare, and lade in those ships much wares and 
merchandize necessary and meet for those parts : the whole 
charges of which preparation amounted to the sum of about 
3^16,500 {r=.ahout /i30,ooo';. 

That by Commission of the said Sir ^^'ILLIAM Garrard 
and others of his Company, who had the direction of that 
Navigation and Voyage, he was appointed and authorized 
General of the said Fleet : and had to him committed, by 
their authority, not only the chief rule, government, and 
order of the said Fleet ; but also of the state of Traffic in 
such places as he should arrive and come unto. The which 
government, he took upon him accordingly, and went upon 
the same voyage, doing and procuring the affairs of the said 
Company, according to the trust given. And in the be- 
ginning of October was twelve month, being in the said year 
1567, he departed from Plymouth, with said Fleet towards 
the coast of Guinea. 

That he, with the Fleet aforesaid, did arrive upon the 
coast of Guinea, in November, anno 1567 ; where this 
Deponent, and other Merchants [Supercarf^^ocs] appointed by 
the said Company for the assistance of traffic, did purchase i\\ 
and buy [!l a good quantity of Negroes. And from thence 
departed with them unto the \\'csl Indies. In which 

232 Sworn Depositions as to the Fioht. [fi'/j^^^'t^ag: 

country he, and William Clarke, with other Factors 
[Supercargoes], did traffic with the inhabitants there : and did 
receive, in truck and exchange of wares and commodities, to 
the said Company's use and behalf, so much treasure and 
commodities as amounted to the sum of 29,743 Pesos of 
Gold [@ 8s. ench=£ii,8gy 4s.=-aboHt £100,000 now]. Which 
treasure, upon the said traffic, was brought wholly, from 
time to time, upon board the Jesus of Lubeck, wherein he 
sailed himself, by order and consent of the said Merchants. 
Of which treasure there were — 

22,000 Pesos of Gold, in bars and pieces of gold. 
4,000 Pesos of Silver, in Corientc. 
;i^200 sterling in divers sorts of plate. 
The rest was in other commodities purchased and bought 
in the said parts of the West Indies. 

After the traffic was made of the treasure and other com- 
modities, the Fleet whereof he had charge and government, 
did set their course from Cartagena, a place in the West 
Indies, to the Cape called St. Antonio, in the west point of 
the island of Cuba. 

And when the said Fleet approached near to the said 
Cape, they were constrained by force of weather to enter 
into the Bay of Mexico, not being able to recover the said 
Cape, or to keep the course determined ; and, through cruel 
storms and contrary winds, were forced to enter the haven of 
St. John de Lowe [San Juan de Ulna]-, where this Deponent 
arrived the i6th of September last or thereabouts, minding 
for the time of his there abode and tarriance to behave him- 
self there towards the King of Spain's subjects in quiet and 
loving manner; and, after a small abode, and some refreshing 
had there, to depart towards England. 

The 20th day of the said month of September last, there 
arrived in the said haven, the new Viceroy of Mexico, and the 
General of the Spanish fleet of thirteen great ships: the 
which Viceroy General and their company did outwardly 
make a resemblance and show of amity and peace. And 
made proclamation by sound of trumpet, which this Deponent 
(lid hear : the effect whereof was, that " no violence nor out- 

fJ'/f^^crS'.] Sworn Depositions as to the Fight. 233 

rageous dealing should be showed to the Englishmen, but 
they should be courteously entertained, upon pain of death." 
And to that effect, amongst other things, the said Viceroy 
gave his promise, by writing subscribed and sealed with his 
hand and seal ; which was delivered to this Deponent. And 
for the better conservation of peace, the said Viceroy did de- 
liver to this Deponent ten pledges (as he promised, gentle- 
men !) : and, in like manner, he did consent that there should 
be ten pledges of Englishmen given to the said Viceroy, for 
the same intent and purpose. 

In consideration of the said Viceroy's proclamation, he, 
this Deponent, caused to be proclaimed by sound of trumpet, 
that " none of his company should break the peace, or give 
occasion of quarrel to the Spaniards, upon pain of his dis- 
pleasure." Whereupon, the Englishmen remained in quiet 
manner till such time as they were assaulted by the said 
Viceroy of his adherents ; who first began the fight, contrary 
to their fidelity and Christian dealing. 

Soon after that the said Viceroy was entered into the said 
haven, he or his adherents the Spaniards gathered from the 
mainland a great number of men, in most secret manner, as 
well into his said fleet of thirteen ships as into other Spanish 
ships which were in the same haven before, to the number of 
eight or nine ships. And amongst others had manned one 
great Hulk of the burden of 800 tons, and placed and put into 
her, to this Deponent's judgement, about 300 men more than 
she had before. And besides this, the said Spaniards had 
fastened a hawser from the said Hulk to the head cable of the 
Jesus in the night time ; which Hulk did ride within twenty 
yards or thereabouts from the same Jesus* And having 
brought their business thus to pass, they planted their 
ordnance from their ships towards the Englishmen which 
were upon the little island which maketh the haven. 

Upon the intelligence of these things, he, this Deponent, 
sent one of his company, Robert Barket, to understand 
what these innovations did mean ; and to request him that 
he would see the peace to be preserved according to his 

And the said Viceroy perceiving, as it seemed, that his in- 
tended enterprise was discovered ; and to the intent this De- 
ponent should have no time to provide for his defence, stayed 

234 ^woRN Depositions as to the Fight. [f^'jJi^^^^'^l'j'^'g': 

the said Barret, presently blew the defiance, shot off the 
Spanish ordnance at the Englishmen which were in the said 
island, and upon the same there suddenly landed on the island 
about 800 Spaniards and other inhabitants of that country, 
who slew almost all the Englishmen which were there a 

Moreover, at the same instant, the said great Hulk by haul- 
ing the hawser which was fastened to the Jesus, as is afore- 
said, bearded first the Minion, and then the Jesus (wherein 
this Deponent then was), riding hard aboard one another. 

And this Deponent saith the Spaniards began the fight un- 
looked for on the English side. And so the Spaniards 
continued shooting off their artillery, both from the Platform 
[battery] which was upon the said island and hard upon [close 
to] the English ships, and also from their ships, in most cruel 
manner, by the space of about eight or nine hours, from 
about eight o'clock in the morning till the evening following 
the same day ; which cruel fight was done on the twenty- 
third day of the said month of September. 

In the afternoon of the same day that the said fight was 
thus begun, and during the same, the Spaniards did set a 
fire two of their ships ; and afterwards drived them towards 
the Jesus and the Minion : to the intent and purpose, as he 
thinketh, to destroy the English ships there, or else to cause 
them to yield unto them. 

And whereas, this Deponent had, all that day, attended to 
the defence of the Jesus, and his company by their good 
travail and manliness had stoutly stood unto the same 
defence ; the sudden approaching of the fired ships made a 
great alteration of things. 

For the Minion did, without this Deponent's command- 
ment or the Captain's (as he saith), set sail, for fear of the 
fire ; to withdraw herself out of the way of those fired ships : 
which caused the men of the Jesus to be much more troubled, 
for that she could not be removed out of that place with any 
sail, and was the hardlier [with more difficulty] to be kept, 
upon the departure of the Minion. 

So that this Deponent perceiving the sudden fear of his 
men, and the imminent danger that they stood in for the 
safeguard of themselves, leaped into the Minion, out of the 
said Jesus ; whereunto he was very hardly [with great dif- 

f3%^l'a"crx^569:] SwORN DEPOSITIONS AS TO THE FiGIIT. 235 

ficnlty] received : for, in that instant, was she under sail, and 
departing from off board the Jesus. Whereas this Deponent 
had determined otherwise to have kept the Jesus till night; 
and then to have saved and brought such things [i.e., the 
{Treat treasure] out of her into the Minion as he conveniently 
might : and by this occasion, he left behind him in the Jesus 
such things as he hereafter expressed in his Deposition to the 

If he had tarried ever so little longer upon board the said 
Jesus, he could not, by any means, have gotten therehence ; 
neither escaped the hands of the Spaniards, which would 
have been to his utter confusion. 

And this Deponent did see the Swallow and the Grace of 
God taken by force of the Spaniards, in the aforesaid fight ; 
and by them possessed : and the Angel was sunk by the 
ordnance which the Spaniards shot off from the Platform 
[on the island]. 

And shortly after that this Deponent was departed forth 
of the Jesus, the Spaniards entered into her also ; and 
possessed her in his sight : whereby he was not only spoiled 
by the said Spaniards of the said four ships, with their 
ordnance, apparel, furniture, and victuals ; but also of the 
wares and goods [i.e., the treasure] particularly valued in his 
Depositions to the Schedule. 

77ie Deposition of Humphrey Fones, 
Steward of the Angel. 

E AT the beginning of the fight, was in the Angel, 

and there remained till she was like[ly] to smk by 

the great shot from off the Platform on the shore 

which the Spaniards kept : and, for saving of himself 

came aboard the Minion. 

Upon the approaching of the fired ships, the men that 
were in the Minion then riding hard aboard the Jesus, were in 
great fear and perplexity to be fired. Insomuch that, upon 
the sudden, the men cut her foresail : whereupon divers of 
the said Jesus men did leap into the Minion to save them- 

236 Sworn Depositions as to the Fight. [fj'/ia^rS- 

selves ; amongst whom, the above named Hawkins was one, 
And certain leapt short of the Minion and were drowned. 

At which time, the said Hawkins could not save the 
things that were in the ^esics : which was so beaten with the 
Spanish ordnance that she could not be removed from the 
place where she lay at anchor ; her foreyard being broken 
and the masts perished with the shot. 

If the said Hawkins had but the space of one minute 
deferred his coming off from the said Jesus, either he had in 
her, by reason of the continual shooting at her, been slain, 
or else taken by the Spaniards : for the said Jesits lay as a 
bulwark and succoured the Miction, so as all the shot and 
battery of the Spanish ordnance rested upon the Jesus. 

He himself lost the worth of 20 marks [ = ^^13 6s. 8^.] which 
he left in the Angel; and could not carry the same away, 
being narrowly driven that he could scarcely save himself; 
for he escaped out of the Angel in his doublet and hose. 

The Deposition of Jean Turren, 
Trumpeter in the Jesus. 

E WAS Trumpeter unto the said Hawkins, in the 
Jesus, and then blew the trumpet himself \pn the 
occasion of Sir J. H AW KiNS's proclaiming the Truce 
to the English fleet]. 
The Jesus was not prepared for the fight, but altogether 
unready, by reason the Englishmen (not mistrusting the 
breach of friendship, and falsehood of the Spaniards) had 
minded to set carpenters a work, the next day, to mend her. 
The English ships could not without present [instant] 
danger of shipwreck avoid the fight, nor escape the Spanish 
shot ; for that the haven was very little, and the wind did not 
serve to get out. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon, the Spaniards set a fire 
two of their own ships. 

The Spaniards took the Grace of God and the Swallow, 
whose anchors lay fastened upon the shore, and thereby 
were the easier to be gotten ; for the one ship lay fast aboard 
the other. 


Deposition? to the twenty-seven 
Articj-e? of the Scheduj-e. 

S c HE D u LE I . — The ship Jesus of Lubeck, with her 
tackle and furjiiture £5,000. 

[•.• This is the amount that was claimed by Sir William Garrard 
and his Company for the ship in its perfect order as it was sent forth from 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

E DID carry with him out of England, the 
said ship call the Jesus of Lubeck, in the 
which he sailed all the last Voyage from 
England to the West Indias ; and the same 
was appointed one of his fleet by Sir 
William Garrard and his Company : 
which was of the burthen of 700 tons and 
upwards, well furnished in all respects and 
points for such a long voyage. 

At such time as the Spaniards began the fight, as it is before 
by him deposed, she was worth, in his judgement, the sum of 
£4,000 sterling, besides her ordnance : especially in the 
haven of Vera Cruz and other places in the West Indias. 
For this Deponent, having used the trade of merchandize, 
built, bought, and sold ships, do know very well, what doth 
belong unto shipping : and thereby judgeth the said Jesus to 
be worth, at the time aforesaid, the said sum of £4,000, as 
ships be commonly bought and sold, both in England and 
Spain ; especially at Seville, where, to this Deponent's know- 
ledge, ships be sold much dearer than in England for the 
occupying of merchandize. 

And trading with the Merchants of Spain, he knoweth a 
ton freight from Seville to the West Indias, to be commonly 
in price and rate, 30 ducats [ = £8 ^s.=abo2it £C>6 now] and 
between 30, and 36 ducats [=/'9 i^s. = about ;^8o jwv>]. 

238 Depositions to the Schedule. ^'L^htS 

Schedule 2. — The ordnance of the Jesus, as sent 
ont of Ejio/and £2,000. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

He ordinary ordnance of the Jesus in her, at £ 
the time of the fight aforesaid, was worth ... 1,800 

There were two whole-culverins, two 
cannons, five demi-culverins, three sacres, 
and two falcons. All which pieces were of brass, 

and worth 1,200 

And besides, there were in her, at that time, these 
pieces of iron ordnance ; first, three demi-culverins ; 
item, five sacres; item, two whole slings; item, itn 
fowlers ; item, thirty bases. And the same iron ord- 
nance he esteemeth worth 350 

And more, he doth judge the value of the shot, 
carriages, and the other furniture which belonged to 

the said ordnance, to be, then, well worth 250 


This Deponent, as he saith, hath good experience what 
ordnance is worth, by reason he had made, divers times, 
provision of ordnance for his shipping : and that such 
ordnance as this was, with their carriages and furniture, is 
and would be commonly sold for the said sum of £1,800 

Schedule 3. — Ammunition £1,000. 

['.• It should be remembered that this ammunition was actually ex- 
pended in fighting the Spaniards.] 

T THE time of the fight aforesaid, there were these 
parcels of munition [ammunition), ensuing, provided 
at the charges and expenses of the said Sir William 
Garrard and Company. 
First, 4 barrels of Serpentine [gun]powder, at 
^5 sterling the barrel, and every barrel contained £ s. d. 

I cwt 20 o o 

Item, 50 barrels of Corn [gun] powder, at £^ 

£ s. d, 


f^Ma^rS:] Depositions to the Schedule. 239 

13s. 4d. the barrel ; and every barrel contained I T s. d 

cwt ^l^ 6 3 

And there were, in addition, at the same time 
of the fight, in the three ships, the Swallow, the 
Grace of God, and the Angel, 10 barrels of [corn] 
gunpowder, worth [ai ^6 13s. 4^.] 6613 4 


Moreover there were, thenjn all the same four ships, these 
parcels of armour; which were also provided upon the charo-e 
of Sir William Garrard and Company. 

First, 70 Corslets [at about 2^s. each] worih 85 o 

/^e;«, 250 Jacks [at 10s. each] wovih. ... 125 o 

/^em, 250 Pikes [at y. each] worih ... 3710 

//(^m, 250 Calivers [at 20s. each] yv or ih ... 250 o ^ 

Item, 40 Partisans [at 13s. 4^. each] worth 26 13 4 

Item, 200 Brown Bills [at is. 6d. each] worth... 15 o o 
Item, 100 Bows and 100 Sheafs of Arrows [at 5s. 

the Bow and Sheaf of Arrows] worth 25 o o 

All which sums do amount to £984 3 4 

Which this Deponent knoweth the better, for that he hath 
good experience in armour and munition, and by that occa- 
sion, knoweth, that the like of such parcels afore declared, 
be commonly bought and sold for the several prices above 

Of all which parcels, this Deponent was spoiled by the 
Spaniards, in the fight before by him declared. 

Schedule 4. — Two anchors a?td three cables, 
belonging to the Minion £200 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

jN THE fight before mentioned, the Minion (which 
was set forth, this last voyage, by the appointment 
of the said Sir William Gakkard and Company) • 
the better to shift for herself from the fired ships 
(being, in a manner, come upon her), did lose in the said 

240 Depositions to the Schedule. ^''jfiaSrl'se^! 

haven, two anchors and three cables of her tackle and furni- 
ture ; for the want of which, this Deponent and his company, 
in their return to England in the said ship, were in great 
danger of their lives, and put to great extremities. 

That (by reason he hath been traded in navigations and 
voyages ; and hath used the seas) he hath good experience in 
cordage and anchors ; and thereby knoweth the same to be 
worth £130 sterling, and that such cables and anchors be 
commonly bought and sold in England, for the same sum. 

Schedule 5. — The ship Swallow, with hef tackle, 
furniture, and ordnance ; aiid the provisions and sailors 
effects on aboard, as sent out 0/ England .... £850. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

He ship articulate, called the Swallow, was of the 
Adventure of the said STir William Garrard and 
Company, and one of the said fleet of six ships ; 
which was a new ship of about 100 tons portage, 
very well conditioned, good of sail, and well furnished with 
ordnance. And therefore, this Deponent saith, that she was 
worth, at the beginning of the said fight, with her victuals 
and other necessaries and preparation lost in her, the said 
sum of £850 sterling; according as the like ships, ordnance, 
and furniture be commonly sold in England : and for that 
money, might have been commonly sold in this realm ; and 
especially at Seville in Spain aforesaid, agreeing to his 
experience and knowledge above remembered. 

Schedule 6. — The ship Angel with her tackle, 
furniture, and ordnance ; and the provisions and sailors 
effects on boaj'd, as sent out of England .... £180. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

He Angel articulate was of the said Company's Ad- 
venture, which was of about 32 tons burthen. And 
she was worth at the beginning of the said fight, the 
sum of £180. 

2i\L"rS69:] Depositions to the Schedule. 241 

6" c HE D u LE 7. — The ship The Grace of God, with 
her tackle, furniture, and ordnance ; and the provisions 
and sailo7'S effects on board £400. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

He said ship, called The Grace of God was of the 
said Company's Adventure, and of this Deponent's 
fleet likewise; being but a new ship, and of the 
burthen of about 150 tons. And thereby, this De- 
ponent judgeth that she was worth, at the beginning of the 
said fight, in her hull, apparel, ordnance, victuals and other 
necessaries, the sum of £350 sterling; as shipping is com- 
monly bought and sold in England, and especially at Seville 
in Spain. 

John T u m e Sy. H a w k i n s' s servant. 

The Grace of God was about 150 tons burthen. 

Schedule 8. — Fifty -seven Negroes in the Jesus 
and the other three ships aforesaid, each worth in the 
West Indies 400 Pesos of Gold at \^s. the Peso =] 
£\^o the slave [=now about ^1,250] .... £9,120. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

Fter the traffic (by him deposed to before) ; the 
Jesus, the Swallow, the Grace of God, and the An}:;et 
departing from Cartagena, brought in them, Irom 
- thence unto the Port of Vera Cruz, forty- five 
Negroes, of goodly stature, shape, and personage ; and young 
of years, being the choice and principal of all the Negroes 
which were gotten and purchased [Ij in the last voyage at 
Guinea. And moreover, there were twelve other Negroes 
carried then in the Minion to Vera Cruz. 

All which forty-five Negroes were of the said Company's 
goods [!i and adventure ; and were either slain in the fight 
at Vera Cruz, or then taken by the Spaniards, from the pos- 
session of this said Deponent. And the other twelve Negroes, 
which were in the M/wjon, might have been sold[!] at the 
said Port of Vera Cruz greatly to the profit of the said Sir 
Exc. C.I a: v. 16 

242 Depositions to the Schedule. [^3'/iJrcr!'="9: 

\\'iLLiAM Garrard and Company, if the said Spaniards had 
not used such violence; by reason whereof, this Deponent 
was enforced to depart from the said Port of Vera Cruz 
sooner than he thought to do. 

At such time, as he was at Vera Cruz, being in Septem- 
ber last as betore, the said 57 Negroes, one with another, 
might have been sold at Vera Cruz for 400 Pesos of Gold 
every Negro. And for reason of his better knowledge, he 
saith that he hath sold, and seen others buy and sell Negroes 
at Rio de la Hacha and other hither" places of the West 
Indias, both this last summer, and in two other vo3'ages 
before ; and, by that experience, knoweth that such choice 
Negroes be commonly sold there for 150 Pesos of Gold ; = -£"6o 
=^about £soo now]. 

And saith, that, this last year, there was one choice Negro 
sold Rio de la Hacha for 150 Pesos of Gold ; and yet (in this 
Deponent's judgement) that Negro was not worth so much 
money as many of the said 45 Negroes were. For the Eng- 
lishmen, Frenchmen, and Portuguese do bring many Negroes 
to the said hither places of the West Indias ; but none that 
ever this Deponent could hear of, to the haven of Vera Cruz ; 
being about 600 leagues sailing beyond these hither places. 
By reason whereof, the Negroes and all other wares [1] must 
be dearer bought and sold there, than in the other said hither 
and near places. t 

John T o m m e s. 

There were ten or twelve Negroes or thereabouts in the 
Minion ; whereof she brought seven into England [seep. 319], 
and the rest died by the way homewards. 

Schedule 9. — 30 Bales of Linen Cloth at [3,000 
Rials of Silver =] ^75 \j=. about ^600 now the 
Bale] £2,250. 

'^- HiiJier places, i.e., nearer to England, by the ordinar}- course of Eng- 
lish navigation in the West Indies. What is meant are tlie ports in tiie 
Carribean Sea ; which were frequented byEnghsh ships before the Bay of 
JMexico was known to them. See p. 204. 

f Of course this is merely an argument here for a fictitious price : but 
unless WlLLl.^M Fowlkr perjured himself (see/. 228J 400 Pesos of CJold 
for a Negro was under rather than over the mark. 

J'Midrl'icg:] Depositions to tiil: Schkdulk. 


John Hawkins, Esq. 

I Hen the Jesus departed last from Cartagena, as 
aforesaid, she had left in her, 30 Fardels of Linen 
Cloth, belonging to the said Sir William Garrard 
and Company: whereof 25 Fardels were good 
Ordmardas, called in the West Indias, PrcscUas; and 5 Fardels 
were Roanes. 

At the said Rio de la Hacha and the coast thereabouts, 
divers Fardels of like Ordmardas were commonly sold by this 
Deponent and others, this last year, for the value of 2,290 
Rials of Plate of Spanish coin, every Fardel : and divers Far- 
dels of like Roanes were commonly sold by this Deponent 
ind others for 2,100 Rials of Plate, every Fardel. And, there- 
fore, this Deponent vainly believeth that the said ^o Fardels 
of Linen Cloth would have been sold at Vera Cruz for 3,000 
Rials of Plate, every Fardel. 

Which said 30 Fardels were, in the said Jesus, brought to 
the said Port of Vera Cruz ; and there, in her remaining, at 
such time as this Deponent did there forsake the Jesus by the 
sudden invasion and violence of said Spaniards done unto 
him and his company as before specified. 

HiP-jt 5 

Schedule 10. — 1,000 Pintados [at 15s. 
each] £750. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

He Jesus brought in her, from Cartagena, 900 
Pintados, which were left of the whole number 
brought out of England, at the said Company's 
Adventure, to the said haven of Vera Cruz. And 
in this last voyage, he and others sold at Barboroatta and 
Santa Marta, the like Pintados for a Peso and a half 0/ Gold 
[— 12.S.] apiece ; and so were they commonly sold there. 

And of those Pintados, was this Deponent likewise spoiled 
by the Spaniards, at the port of \'era Cruz, as above men- 

Sc Ji E D u IE 1 1. — 4C0 lbs, ejus generis qua" viilgo 
^\Q.\.\x\\.i:x Margaritas, at ^s £100. 

244 Detositions to the Schedule. [yLllrS 

Schedule 12. — ^oo lbs. of Pcivter [at 2s. a lb.] 
\xuorUi'] £30. 

Schedule 13 . — A Bale of Broad Taffetas, con- 
taining a^o Spanish Varcs £40. 

ScLiEDULE 14. — 4 Bales [oi 11 pieces each] of 
woollen cloths called Hampshires \i.e., Kersies\ and 
Northerns £340. 

Schedule 15. — 6 Bales oj Cottons at £\^ each 
[worth'] £90. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

jPoN the foresaid traffic made by this Deponent, in 
that last voyage, there was left of the said Company's 
goods, these parcels of wares following ; which this 
Deponent brought in the Jesus from the port of 
Cartagena to Vera Cruz. 400 lbs. of Margaritas ; 300 lbs. 
of Pewter; A case of Broad Taffetas, containing 40 Spanish 
Vares ; 4 Packs of "Hampshires" and "Northerns;" 6 
Packs of Cottons. Whereof, this Deponent was spoiled by 
the Spaniards in the said haven of Vera Cruz, as above 

And as touching the value of these wares, this Deponent 
»aith that the like wares unto those, were sold at Barboroatta, 
Rio de la Hacha, and other places in the West Indies, by this 
Deponent and others, for the several prices underwritten. 
The lb. of Pewter, for 4^ Rials of Silver [2s. 3^.]. 
The lb. of Margaritas, for a Peso of Gold [=8s.]. 
The Vare of Taffeta, for 3 Pesos of Gold [=245.]. 
A [i.e., a piece of Hampshires] Kersey at 18 Pesos of Gold 
[=£y 45.] the piece [of ly English yards]; of which 11 be 
contained in every pack [i.e., igS Pesos of Gold, the pack]. 
The piece of " Northerns " at 14 Pesos of Gold [ = ;^'5 17S.J, 
whereof 11 be contained in every pack [i.e., 154 Pesos of 
Gold, the pack]. 
And the Piece of Cottons, at 15 Pesos of Gold [=.^6], 
whereof 5 make the pack [i.e., go Pesos of Gold, the pack] ; 
and every piece of Cottons containeth 61 Vares. 


fi'L^iw-sjiJ Deposition's to the Schedule. 245 

Schedule 16. — A cliesl of -i^o gilt rapiers, ivith 
their daggers a iid girdles £120. 

Schedule i 7. — 1 2 Quintals ( 1 00 lbs.) of IVax [at 
/loeach] £120. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

He said Sir William Garrard and Company had 

in the Jesus, after the traffic aforesaid, these parcels 

also ; which this Deponent brought from Cartagena. 

A chest of gilt rapiers, with their daggers and 

girdles, and 12 Quintals of Wax. 

Whereof the Spaniards spoiled this Deponent in the fight 


Like rapiers unto these were worth, and commonly sold in 
that voyage in the West Indies, for 10 and 12 Pesos of 
Gold [=£"4 and £^ i6s.] the piece. 

And judgeth the common price of wax in the West Indias 
to be £10 sterling the hundred [lbs. or Quintal]. 

Schedule 18. — Scvejt tons of Jllajiilios, at 

£50 £350. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

His Deponent knoweth well that the Company afore- 
said, had remaining in the Jesus, the Swalloiu, the 
Grace of God, and the An<^cl, 6 tons of Manilios, at 
the least, sent by them out of England ; which cost, 
the first penny, one ton with another, £j[6 13s. 4d. sterling. 

And of those wares also was this Deponent dispossessed, 
and spoiled by the Spaniards, in the fight aforesaid. 

Schedule 19. — A dag of gold and silver in the 
]QSUs,contaijting too Pesos of Gold and Silver £2 000. 

Schedule 20. — A chest of Silver Plate, in the 
Jesus, worth £200. 

Schedule 21. — Coriente silver, in the Jesus 
\_worth'\ £500. 

246 Depositions to the Schedule. [J ii "XS^ 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

E LEFT such quantity of treasure and plate in the 
jfesiis. Of which tieasure he was spoiled by the 
violence of the Spaniards. 

John T o m m e s {Hawkins's servant). 

Hath helped to lay up the Silver Plate, when it was used 
aboard at the receiving of any Spaniards, and it was as much 
;is he could conveniently carry. 

Schedule 22. — In the four ships, 20 butts vini 
Cretici et Hispanici vulgo, Malmeseys, and Seeks [Sack, 
the modern Sherry], [at ^15 the butt] .... £300. 

Schedule 23. — In tlie same, 36 barrels of meal, 

at £a, £144. 

Schedule 24. — In the same, other vietuals and 
necessaries, to the value of £150. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

Here were, in the said four ships which were lost at 
the time of the said fight, so much victuals as is 
here specified ; which he esteemeth to be no less 
worth than is particularly specified in these articles ; 
for this Deponent being well experienced in victualling of 
ships, knoweth that the same can be worth no less. 

W I I- L I A M Clarke, Merchant in the Fleet. 

There could be no less quantity of wines, meat, and other 
victuals in the Jesus (where the said Hawkins sailed himself) 
and the other three ships : because the ship called the William 
and John [ivlicrein CLARKE u'as], at her departure from Carta- 
gena, had in her dry muttons [sheep], peas, bacon, rice, maize, 
beef, stock fish, and biscuit ; worth £60 sterling. And be- 
sides, she had then 3 butts of Canary wine, and 13 barrels of 
meal. And therefore he judgeth that the other four ships 
above mentioned, had their share and store of wine and 

2l'Ma"rS9."] DErosiTioNs Tu THE Schedule. 247 

victuals proportionabty ; and believeth that the Jcsiis had 
most of all ; for that she had in her, much provision for the 
relief of all the fleet in time of need. 

And the company in the Williafii and Mary, being ^evidently 
after their separation from HA\VKI^^s] in necessity of meal ; he 
did buy meal about 140 leagues on this side of the haven of 
Vera Cruz, after the rate of 40 Rials of Plate ;=:^ii the 
English bushel; which is at the rate of £7 sterling for every 
barrel of meal. 

Humphrey Fones, Steward of the Angel. 

There was in the Angel at the time she was sunk, ij butts 
of Canary wine, 2 barrels and more of meal, i hogshead of 
pickled pork, i hogshead of rice, 3 hogsheads of pease, 250 
stock fish, I butt of maize, i butt of biscuit, 24 dried sheep, 
and I hogshead of beer : for this Deponent, being the Steward, 
oiiht Angel, did make these sorts and quantities of victuals the 
better; and knoweth that the other ships were provided of the 
same kind of victuals, every one agreeing to their burden and 

Schedule 25. — In the Jesus, the apparel and 
furniture of John Hawkins, Esquire .... £300. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

Is apparel and furniture was worth much more. 
For he left in the Jesus, through the said violence 

of the Spaniards, these parcels of apparel and furni- 
ture ensuing. 

First, 300 lbs. weight of pewter ... worth £ Z^ 

Item, Twelve pieces of Tapestry ... worth 100 
Item, His bedding and other things belonging 

unto the same worth 40 

Item, Apparel and linen worth 140 

Item, Three corslets of proof worth 30 

Item, His provision of spice, sugar, marma- 
lade, and conserves worth 40 

Itcmf Instruments of the sea, books and 

other things worth Go 


248 Depositions to the Schedule. [J/ia^rl'i",: 

William Clarke, Merchant in the Fleet. 

He saw Master Hawkins wear, in this Voyage, divers suits 
of apparel of velvets and silks, with buttons of gold, and 
pearl ; with other apparel and furniture : which in his judge- 
ment, might well be worth ;;r250. 

Schedule 26, — In the Jesus, chests and bimdles 
of the sailors £900. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

E BELIEVETH in his conscience, that the same is 
true. For he had in the Jesus 180 men ; whereof 
part were Officers in the ships, part gentlemen of 
good houses ; and some Surgeons, and some Mer- 
chants ; whereof divers had their provision worth /'40 sterling, 
and many lost £20. So that he believeth that the men's 
losses in the Jesus could be no less worth than is articulated. 

Schedule ly. — In the Jesus, a bale 20 mantel- 
lorum VLilgo dicitur, a Pack of Tzventy Cloaks, each 
worth ^4 £80. 

John Hawkins, Esq. 

He Company had in \.he Jesus, 20 cloaks; whereof 
this Deponent was spoiled by the Spaniards in the 
fight aforesaid. 

Those cloaks were worth £^ sterling apiece ; for 
the like were commonly sold in the West Indies by this 
Deponent and others for 8 Pesos of God [ = £'i 12s.]. 

Jean Turren, Trumpeter. 

There was in the Jesus, a Pack of 20 Cloaks of sundry 
colours ; which he did brush and make clean sometimes 
during that Voyage. 


[FiR^T Karrative by a Survivor.] 

The relation of David Ingram, of Barking, in the county of 
Essex, sailor, heing now about the age of forty years, 
of sundry things which he with others did see in 
travelling by land from the most northerly part of the 
Bay of Mexico (where he with many others were set 
on shore by Master Hawkins), through a great part of 
America, until they came within fifty leagues, or 
thereabouts, of Cape Breton : which he reported unto 
Sir Francis Walsi,ngham Knight, Her Majesty's 
Principal Secretary of State, and to Sir George Peck- 
ham Knight, and divers others of good judgement and 
credit, in August and September, 1582. 

[Sloane MS. 1^,47. 
[Also printed, with variations, in HAKLUYT's Voyages, p. 557. Ed. 1589.] 

Tliis narrative was omitted by Hakluvt, in his revised and enlarged 
edition of his Voyages, 3 vols., 1 599-1600: fol. 

Rev. S. PURCHAS in his Pilgrimes, iv. p. 179, Ed. 1625, states : 
" As for David I N(;ram's perambulation to the north parts. Master 
Hakluvt, in his first edition, published the same ; but it seemeth some 
incredibilities of his reports caused him to leave him out in the next im- 
pression ; the reward of lying being, not to be believed in truths." — See 
R. Hakluvt's Discourse concernini^ Western IHantini^, p. 220. (Maine 
Historical Society, Second Series) Cambridge, Mass., 1877-78. 

Bout the beginning of October, anno Domini 
1568, David Ingram, with the rest of his 
company, being a hundred persons in all, 
were set on land by Master John Haw- 
kins, about six leagues to the west of the 
river Cumina or Rio de Mynas which 
standeth about 140 leagues west-and-by- 
north from the Cape of Florida, 
travelled in those countries from beyond Term 

250 Ingram, Browne, and Twide walk, in ii [sept'ATs^: 

Florida, extending towards the Cape Breton, about eleven 
months in the whole ; and about seven months thereof in 
those countries which lie towards the north of tbe river of 
May. In which time, as the said Ingram thinketh, he 
travelled, by land, 2,000 miles, at the least : and never con- 
tinued in any one place above three or four days ; saving at 
the city of Balma, where he stayed six or seven days. 

There are in those parts, saith he, very many kings, com- 
monly within 100 or 120 miles one from another ; who are at 
continual wars together. 

The first king that they came before, dwelt in a country 
called Giricka; who caused them to be stripped naked, and, 
wondering greatly at the whiteness of their skins, let them 
depart without further harm. 

The kings in those countries are clothed with painted or 
coloured garments ; and thereby you may know them : and 
they wear great precious stones, which commonly are rubies, 
being six inches long and two inches broad ; and if the same 
be taken from them, either by force or sleight, they are 
presently deprived of their kingdoms. 

When they do mean to speak with any person publicly, 
they are always carried by men in a sumptuous chair of silver 
or crystal, garnished about with sundry sorts of precious 

And if you will speak with the king, at your first approach- 
ing near him, you must kneel down on both your knees; and 
then arise again and come somewhat nearer him, w^ithin 
your length, then kneel down again, as you did before. Then 
take of the earth or grass between both your hands, kissing 
the backside of each of them, and put the earth or grass on 
the crown of your head : and so, come and kiss the king's 
feet. Which circumstances being performed, you may then 
arise, and stand up, and talk with him. 

The noblemen, and such as be in special favour with tiie 
King, do commonly wear feathers in the hair of their heads, 
for the most part, of a bird as big as a goose, of russet colour. 
And this is the best mark that this Examinate can give to 
know them by. 

There is, in some of those countries, great abundance of 
pearls. For in every cottage, he found pearls ; in some 

Sep'"".T8^.'] MONTHS, FROM TaMPICO, TO CaPE BrETON. 25 1 

houses a quart, in some a pottle [half a gallon], in some a 
peck, more or less : where he did see some as great as an 
acorn : and Richard Browne, one of his companions, found 
one of these great pearls in one of their canoes or boats, 
which pearl he gave to Monsieur Champaigne, who took 
them aboard his ship, and brought them to Newhaven 
[Havre], in France. 

All the people generally do wear Manylions or bracelets as 
big as a man's finger, upon each of their arms ; and the like 
on the small of each of their legs : whereof commonly one 
is gold, and two are silver. And many of the women also do 
wear great plates of gold covering their bodies in manner of 
a pair of Currettes, and many bracelets and chains of great 

The people commonly are of good favour, feature, and shape 
of body, of growth about five-feet high, somewhat thick, with 
their faces and skins of colour like an olive ; and towards the 
north, somewhat tawny, but some of them are painted with 
divers colours. They are very swift of foot. The hair of 
their head is shaven in sundry places, and the rest of their 
head is traced [tattooed]. 

In the north parts, they are clothed with beasts' skins, the 
hairy side being next to their body in winter. 

They are naturally very courteous, if you do not abuse 
them either in their persons or goods, but use them cour- 
teously. The killing and taking of their beasts, birds, fishes, 
and fruits cannot offend them ; except it be of their cattle, 
which they keep about their houses, as kine, guinea hens, 
and such like. 

If any of them do hold up both their hands at length to- 
gether, and kiss the backs of them on both sides : then you 
may undoubtedly trust them ! for it is the greatest token of 
friendship that may be. 

If any of them shall come unto you with a horse's tail in 
his hand, then you may assure yourself that he is a messenger 
from the king ; and to him, you may safely commit your per- 
son, or go to the king or anywhere else, or by him send any- 
thing or message to the King. For these men are always 
either Ensign |/7rtif) -bearers in the wars, or the king's mes- 
sengers who will never betray you. 

252 Arms of North American Indians, ['^ej^'.^s^*. 

To allure the people to speech, if you will have any of the 
people to come aboard your ship, hang out some white cloth 
upon a staff, for it is a sign of amity. 

If you will bargain for ware with them ; leave the things 
that you will sell upon the ground, and go from it a pretty 
way off. Then will they come and take it, and set down 
such wares as they will give for it in the place : and if you 
think it not sufficient, leave the wares with signs that you 
like it not ; and they will bring more until either they or you 
be satisfied, or will give no more. Otherwise you may hang 
your wares upon a long pole's end ; and so put more or less on 
it, until they have agreed on the bargain. 

When they go to the wars, they march in battle [ar]ray 
two and three in a rank. 

Their trumpets, they do make of certain beasts' [elephants^ 
in MS.] teeth. They have a kind of drum, which they make 
of beasts' skins. They have shields and targets of the skins 
of beasts, compassed with willow twigs ; and being dried, 
they are strong and defensible. 

Their weapons are darts headed with iron : the heads are 
two fingers broad, and half a foot long, which are fastened 
within a socket. 

They have also short bows strung with the bark of trees, 
being half an inch broad, and the arrows are of bone, a yard 
long, nocked and headed with silver and bone. Their arrows 
are cf small force within a stone's cast of them, and you may 
put them by, with a staff, a pretty way off. 

They have short broad swords of black iron, of the length 
of a yard, or very near an ell ; bearing edges thicker than 
backs of knives : somewhat like the foils in our fence schools. 

They have crooked knives of iron, somewhat like a wood- 
knife or hanger; wherewith they will carve excellently both 
in wood and bone. 

Their Ensign 1/^^] is a horse's tail, with glass or crystal 
in some of them; being dyed in sundry colours, as red, yellow, 
green, &c. 

The people in those countries are professed enemies to the 
Cannibals or man eaters. The Cannibals do mostly inhabit 
between Norumbegc and Barimuthe. They have teeth like 
dogs' teeth ; and thereby you may know them. 

'sep't'.X'] Names of towns in North America. 253 

In the wars they do pitch their camp as near as they 
may unto some wood of palm trees ; which yieldeth them 
meat, drink, and a present [instant} remedy against poisoned 

Their buildings are weak and of small force. Their houses 
are made round like dove houses, and they do dwell together 
in towns and villages. 

And some of them have banquetting houses in the top of 
them, made like the lover llonvre] of a hall, built with pillars 
of massy silver and crystal, framed square ; whereof many of 
them are as big as a boy's leg of fifteen years of age, and 
some less. 

This Examinate did also see divers towns and villages, as 
Gunda, a town, a flightshot in length. 
Ochala, a great town, a mile long. 
Balma, a rich city, a mile and a half long. 
Bega, a country, and town of that name three quarters 

of a mile long. There is a good store of ox hides. 
Saguanathe, a town almost a mile in length. 
Barimuthe, a city a mile and a quarter long. Also there 
is a river and town of that name, but less than the first 
above named. 
Guinda, a small town, and a river; both of that name. 
And this is the most northerly part that this Examinate 
was at. 
[There are, besides those towns aforenamed, many other 
great towns, which this Ingram passed by. They are com- 
monly distant six or eight miles one from the other : which 
have divers small villages within eight or ten miles from 

They have in every house, scoops, buckets, and divers other 
vessels of massy silver ; wherewith they do throw out 
water and dust, and otherwise do employ them to their 
necessary uses in their houses. All which this Examinate 
did see common and usual in some of these countries ; 
especially where he found the great pearls. 

There are also great rivers ; at the heads of which, this 
Examinate and his companions did find sundry pieces of gold, 
some as big as a man's fist ; the earth being washed away 
with the water. 

2S4 The natural troducts of the couxtrv. r^.,!r"""'" 

And in other places, they did see great rocks of crystal, 
which grew at the heads of great and many rivers ; being 
enough in quantity to load ships. 

There are also in those parts, plenty of fine furs, unknown 
to this Examinate ; dressed after the manner of the countr}-. 

The people there do burn a kind of white turf or earth, 
which they dig out of the marshes, a fathom deep in the 
ground. It burneth very clear, and smelleth as sweet as 
musk : and that earth is as wholesome, sweet, and comfort- 
able to smell unto, as any pomander. They do make their 
fire of this earth for the sweetness thereof, having great 
abundance of wood. 

When they want fire, they take briars, and rub them very 
hard between their fists ; and so, with hard and often rubbing, 
they kindle and make fire. 

They have great plenty of iron : and there is also great 
plenty of mineral salt in the marish ground which looketh 
reddish ; a thing necessary for the great fishing near the 
sea shore, which are here abundant, and the fish large and 

The ground and country is most excellent, fertile, and 
pleasant ; and especially towards the River of May. For the 
grass of the rest is not so green as it is in those parts ; for the 
other is burnt away with the heat of the sun. 

All the country is good and most delicate; having great 
plains as large and as fair, in many places, as may be seen : 
being as plain as a board. 

And then great and huge woods, of sundry kinds of trees, 
as cedars, date trees, lignum vitcB, hombassa, plantains, and 
bushes, and also great abundance of those trees which carrieth 
a thick bark that biteth like pepper (of which kind, young 
Master Winter brought home part from the Straits of 
Magellan), with the fruitful Palm tree, and a great plenty 
of other sweet trees to this Examinate unknown. 

And after that, plains again ; and, in other places, great 
closes of pasture environed with most delicate trees instead of 
hedges ; they being, as it were, set by the hands of men. 

Yet the best grass, for the most part, is in the high 
countries, somewhat far from the seaside and great rivers ; 
by reason that the low grounds there be so rank, that the 
grass groweth faster than it can be eaten, whereby the old 

^eit"%7s"j Flora of North America. 255 

grass lieth withered thick, and the new grass groweth 
through it ; whereas in the upper parts, the grass and ground 
is most excellent and green ; the ground not heing over- 
charged with any old withered grass, as is afore specified. 

The Palm tree aforesaid carrieth hairs on the leaves thereof, 
which reach to the ground : whereof the Indians do make 
ropes and cords for their cotton beds, and do use the same 
for many other purposes. The which tree, if you prick with 
your knife, about two feet from the root, it will yield a wine 
in colour like whey, but in taste strong and somewhat like 
Bastard ; which is most excellent drink : but it will distemper 
both your head and your body, if you drink too much thereof; 
as our strong wines will do in these parts. 

The branches of the top of the tree are most excellent meat, 
raw, after you have pared away the bark. 

Also there is a red oil that cometh out of the root of this 
tree, which is most excellent against poisoned arrows and 
weapons: for by it they do recover themselves of their 
poisoned wounds. 

There is a tree called the Plantain, with a fruit growing on 
it like a pudding, which is most excellent meat, raw. 

They have also a red berry, like a peascod, called Guiathos, 
two or three inches long, which groweth on short bushes full 
of pricks like the sloe or thorn tree ; and the fruit eateth like 
a green raisin, but sharper somewhat. They stamp this 
berry to make wine thereof; which they keep in vessels made 
of wood. They have also, in many places, vines which bear 
grapes as big as a man's thumb. 

There is also a great plenty of herbs, and of all kind of 
flowers, as roses and gill}flowers, like ours in England : and 
many others which he knew not. Also they have a kind of 
grain [maize], the ear whereof is as big as the wrist of a man's 
arm. The grain is like a flat pease. It maketh very good 
biead, and white. 

They do also make bread of the root called cassava : which 
they do dry, and beat it as small as they can, and temper it 
with water ; and so bake it, in cakes, on a stone. 

There is also a great plenty of buffes [buffaloes], bears, 
horses, kine, wolves, foxes, deer, goats, sheep, hares, and 
conies. Also other cattle like ours, and very many unlike 

256 Fauna of North America. [^^eJC'isr;. 

ours, to this Examinate unknown, the most part being wild : 
the hides and skins of them are good merchandise. 

There is very great store of those buffes, which are beasts 
as big as two oxen, in length almost twenty feet, having long 
ears like a bloodhound, with long hairs about their ears, their 
horns be crooked like ram's horns, their eyes black, their 
hairs long, black, rough, and shagged as a goat. The hides 
of these beasts are sold very dear. This beast doth keep 
company only by couples, male and female ; and doth always 
fight with others of the same kind, when they do meet. 

There is also a great plenty of deer — red, white, and 
speckled. This last sort this Examinate knoweth not. 

There is also a great plenty of another kind of sheep, which 
carry a kind of coarse wool. This sheep is very good meat ; 
although the flesh be very red. They are exceeding fat ; and 
of a nature loath to rise when they are lain, which is always 
from five o'clock at night until five o'clock in the morning, 
between which time you may easily kill them ; but after they 
be on foot, they are very wild, and rest not in one place, living 
together in herds, in some 500, as it happeneth, more or less. 
And these red sheep are most[ly] about the Bay of Saint 
Mary, as this Examinate guesseth. 

There are bears, both black and white. There are wolves. 
The foxes have their skins more grizzled than ours in England. 
There are conies, white, red, and grey, in every place in 
great plenty. 

This Examinate did also see in those countries, a mon- 
strous beast twice as big as a horse, and in proportion like to 
a horse, in mane, hoof, hair, and neighing; saving it was 
small towards the hinder parts like a greyhound. This beast 
hath two teeth or horns, of a foot long, growing straight 
forth by their nostrils. They are natural enemies of the horse. 

He did also see in that country, both elephants and ounces. 
He did also see one another strange beast bigger than a bear. 
He had neither head nor neck. His eyes and mouth were 
in his breast. This beast is very ugly to behold, and 
cowardly of kind. It beareth a very fine skin like a rat, full 
of silver hairs. 

There are in those countries, abundance of russet parrots, 
but very few green. There are also birds of all sorts, as we 
have ; and many strange birds, to this Examinate unknown. 

^'eKy ^^^^■' American- Ixdiaxs spkak Welsh! 257 

There is great plenty of guinea hens, which are tame birds, 
and proper to the inhabitants, as big as geese, very black of 
colour, having feathers like down. There is also a bird 
called a Flamingo, whose feathers are very red. It is bigger 
than a goose, billed like a showeler, and very good meat. 

There is also another kind of fowl in that country which 
hunteth [haiinieth] the rivers, near unto the islands. They 
are of the shape and bigness of a goose ; but their wings are 
covered with small yellow feathers, and cannot fly. You 
may drive them bei'ore you like sheep. They are exceeding 
fat, and very delicate meat. They have white heads, and 
therefore the countrymen call them Penguins, which seemeth 
to be a Welsh name [I]. And they have also in use divers 
other Welsh words [IJ. A matter worth the noting. 

There is also a very strange bird, thrice as big as an eagle, 
very beautiful to behold. His feathers are more orient 
[brilliant] than a peacock's feathers ; his eyes are glistering 
as a hawk's eyes, but as great as a man's eyes : his head and 
thigh as big as a man's head and thigh. It hath a crest and 
tuft of feathers of sundry colours, on the top of the head, like 
a lapwing, hanging backwards. His beak and talons are in 
proportion like eagles, but very huge and large. 

Touching tempests and other strange monstrous things in 
those parts, this Examinate saith, that he hath seen it light- 
ning and thunder, in summer season, by the space of four and 
twenty hours together. The cause whereof, he judgeth to be 
the heat of the climate. 

He further saith, that there is a cloud, some time of the 
year, seen in the air, which commonly turneth to great tem- 
pests. And that, some times of the year, there are great 
winds in manner of whirlwinds. 

Touching their religion, he saith, that they honour for 
their god, a devil [? medicine man], which they call Collochio : 
which speaketh unto them, sometimes in the likeness of a 
black dog, and sometimes in the likeness of a black calf. 

And some do honour the sun, the moon, and the stars. 

He saith, that the people in those countries are allowed 
many wives : some five, some ten, and a king sometimes a 
hundred. And that adultery is very severely punished in the 
following manner. 

Jtxo. Cak. v. 17 

258 The English sailors defy the Devil [!] [°'ej"^"^: 

The woman taken in adultery must, with her own hands, 
cut the throat of the adulterer ; and the next of his kindred 
doth likewise cut the throat of the adulteress. 

Being asked, in what manner, they take their executions ? 
he saith, "That they are brought to execution by certain 
magistrates ; who deliver unto the woman, the knife where- 
with she cutteth the throat of the adulterer. Then appeareth 
their Collochio, or devil, in the likeness aforesaid, and speaketh 
unto them : and to that devil, the parties brought to execu- 
tion do great reverence, and with many prayers to it, they 
do take their death." 

He saith that, " Such persons as are put to death in such 
sort, have not any of their friends buried with them. But 
such as die naturally, have always buried with them, quick 
[alive], one of their dearest friends to keep them company, and 
to provide necessaries and victuals for them : who do wil- 
lingly consent thereto, being thereto persuaded by their 
Collochio, or devil, whom they do worship." 

He saith further, that " He and his two fellows (namely, 
Richard Browne and Richard Twide) went unto a poor 
man's house, and there they did see the said Collochio, or 
devil, with very great eyes like a black calf. Upon which 
sight, Browne said * There is the devil ! * and thereupon he 
blessed himself. In the name of the Father ! and of the Son ! 
and of the Holy GHOST ! and Twide said very vehemently, 
' I defy thee, and all thy works ! ' and presently the Collo- 
chio shrank away in a stealing manner, forth of the doors, 
and was seen no more unto them." 

Also they passed over many great rivers in those countries 
in canoes or boats ; some four, some six, some eight, some 
ten miles over : whereof one was so large that they could 
scarce cross the same in four and twenty hours. 

Also he saith that " in the same country, the people have 
instruments of music made of a piece of a cane, almost a 
foot long, being open at both ends : which, sitting down, 
they smite upon their thighs and one of their hands, making 
a pleasant kind of sound." 

And they do use another kind of instrument like a taber 
[? banjo], covered with a white skin somewhat like parch- 

&;J"^'58™.] Thev comk home in a Frfxch ship. 259 

This Examinate can very well describe their gestures, 
dancing, and songs. 

After long travail, the aforesaid David Ingram with his 
two companions Browne and Twide, came to the head of 
a river called [Garinda,j which is 60 leagues west from Cape 
Breton ; where they understood by the people of that country, 
of the arrival of a Christian. Whereupon, they made their 
repair to the seaside; and there found a French Captain, 
named Monsieur Champaigne : who took them unto his 
ship, and brought them unto Newhaven [Havre] in France ; 
and from thence, they were transported unto England, Anno 
Domini 1569. 

This Monsieur Champaigne, with divers of his company, 
wasbrought unto the village of Baryniathe, about twenty miles 
up into the country, by the said Examinate and his two com- 
panions : by whose means, he had a trade with the people, 
of divers sorts of fine furs ; and of great red leaves of trees 
almost a yard long and about a foot broad, which he thinketh 
are good for dyeing. 

Also the said Monsieur Champaigne had there, for exchange 
of trifling wares, a good quantity of rude and unwrought silver. 

He further saith that, " divers of the said Frenchmen, 
which were in the said ship, called the Gargarine, are yet 
living in [Honfleur], upon the coast of France, as he thinketh : 
for he did speak with some of them within these three years " 
[i.e., since I579> 

About a fortnight after their coming from Newhaven into 
England [in 1569J, this said Examinate and his two com- 
panions came to Master John Hawkins; who had set them 
on shore upon the Bay of Mexico : and unto each of them, he 
gave a reward. 

Richard Browne, his companion, was slain, about five 
years past [1577], in the Elizabeth of Master Cockens, of 
London. And Richard Twide, his other companion died 
at Ratcliffe, in John Sherwood's house there, about three 
years past [1579]. 

Guando is a word of salutation, as among us "Good 
morrow!" "Good even ! " "GOD save you !" 
and the like. 

26o Docility of the West Indian slaves. ReKs^: 

Garicona. A King. 

Garaccona. A Lord. 

Tona. Bread. 

Kerucca. The Sun. 

Also the said Examinate travelling towards the North, 
found the Main sea [Grdf of St. Lawrence] upon the north 
side of America ; and travelled in sight thereof the space of 
two whole days : where the people signified unto him, that 
they had seen ships on the coast, and did draw upon the 
ground the shape and figure of ships and of their sails and 

Which thing specially proveth [!j the passage of the North- 
west ; and is agreeable to the experience of Vasquez de 
CoRONADO, who found a ship of China or Cataia upon the 
North-west of America. 

Also the said Examinate saith that " there is an island 
called Corrasau [Ctiragao] ; and there are in it, 5,000 or 6,000 
Indians, at the least: and all those are governed by only 
one Negro, who is but a slave to a Spaniard. 

And, moreover [in other places], the Spaniards will send 
but one of their slaves with 100 or 200 of the Indians, when 
they go to gather gold in the rivers descending from the 
mountains. And when they shall be absent by the space 
of 20 or 30 days' [journey] at the least ; every one of the 
Indians will nevertheless obey all the slave's commandments, 
with as great reverence as if he were their natural King ; 
although there be never a Christian near them, by the space 
of 100 or 200 miles : which argueth the great obedience of 
those people, and how easily they may be governed when 
they be once conquered. 

In considering the exaggerations which led Hakluyt to reject 
Ingram's narrative as a tissue of falsehoods ; we must think of the 
enormous stretch of country over which he travelled, from Tampico to 
Cape Breton, and of the diversities of climate, tribes, customs, animals, 
birds, &c., which he has here jumbled up in a general way. 

It is also to be noted that this examination was taken some twelve 
years after he had returned home ; in the year before that in which 
Miles Phillips got back home, see p. 306. Had it been taken earlier, 
his memory might have been somewhat fresher. 


Second Kvvrrative, by another 

[HAKLuyx. Voyages. 1589.) 

A Discourse written by one Miles Phillips, Englishman, one 
of the company put ashore in the West Indies by Master 
John Hawkins in the year 1568. Containing many 
special things of that country and of the Spanish Govern- 
ment [there] : but specially of their cruelties used to our 
Englishmen ; and among the rest, to himself, for the 
space of fifteen or sixteen years together, until, by good 
and happy means, he was delivered from their bloody 
hands, and returned to his own country, anno I582[3J. 

r HE F I R ST C H A PT E R. 

Wherein is shewn the day and time of our departure from the 
coast of England ; with the number and names of the ships, their 
Captains and Masters : and of our traffic and dealing upon the 
coast of Africa. 

PoN Monday, being the 2nd of October, 
1567, the weather being reasonably fair, 
our General [Admiral], Master John Haw- 
kins, having commanded all his Captains 
and Masters to be in a readiness to make 
sail with him ; he himself being embarked 
in the Jesus (whereof was appointed for 
Master, Kohkrt HakkI'T), iu»iste(i sail, und 

262 The Fleet slave hunting in Guinea ; ['^'•^^'"J^^; 

departed from Plymouth, upon his intended voyage for the 
parts of Africa and America ; being accompanied with five 
other sail of ships, as, namely. 

The Minion, wherein went for Captain, Master John 
Hampton ; and John Garret, Master. 

The William and John, wherein was Captain, Thomas 
Bolton ; and James Raunce, Master. 

The Judith, in whom was [subsequently] Captain, 
Master Francis Drake, now Knight : and 

The Angel, whose Master, as also the Captain and 
Master of the Swallow, I now remember not. 

And so sailing in company together, upon our voyage until 
the 6th of the same month, an extreme storm then took us 
near unto Cape Finisterre ; which [enjdured for the space of 
four days, and so separated our ships that we had lost one 
another : and the General, finding the Jesus to be in an ill case, 
was in mind to give over the voyage, and to return home. 
Howbeit the nth of the same month, the seas waxing calm, 
and the wind coming fair ; he altered his purpose, and held 
on the former intended voyage. 

And so coming to the island of Gomera, being one of the 
Islands of the Canaries, where, according to an order before 
appointed, we met with all our ships which were before dis- 
persed ; we then took in fresh water, and departed from thence 
the 4th of November; and holding on our course, upon the 
i8th of the same month, we came to an anchor upon the 
coast of Africa, at Cape de Verde, in twelve fathom [s of] 

Here our General landed certain of our men, to the number 
of 160 or thereabouts ; seeking to take some Negroes. And 
they going up into the country, for the space of six miles, 
were encountered with a great number of Negroes ; who with 
their envenomed arrows did hurt a great number of our men, 
so that they were enforced to retire to the ships : in which 
conflict, they recovered but a few Negroes. Of these our men, 
which were hurt with their envenomed arrows, there died to 
the number of seven or eight, in a very strange manner, with 
their mouths shut ; so that we were forced to put sticks and 
other things into their mouths, to keep them open. 

*'■ r'lssa'.] 1' H EN LEAVES FOR THE WeST InDIES. 263 

So afterwards passing the time upon the coast of Guinea 
until the 12th of January '1568], we obtained by that time, 
the number of 150 Negroes. 

And being ready to depart from the sea coast, there was a 
Negro sent as an ambassador to our General, from a king 
[chief] of the Negroes (which was oppressed with other kings, 
his bordering neighbours) desiring our General to grant him 
succour and aid against those his enemies ; which our General 
granted unto, and went himself in person aland, with the 
number of 200 of our men or thereabouts : and the said King, 
which had requested our aid, did join his force with ours, so 
that thereby our General assaulted and set fire upon a town 
of the said king his enemy, in which there was, at the least, 
the number of 8,000 or 10,000 Negroes. They perceiving that 
they were not able to make any resistance, sought by flight 
to save themselves ; in which their flight, there were taken 
prisoners to the number of 800 or 900, which our General 
ought to have had for his share : howbeit the Negro king 
which requested our aid, falsifying his word and promise, 
secretly, in the night, conveyed himself away, with as many 
prisoners as he had in his custody. 

But our General, notwithstanding, finding himself to have 
now very near the number of 500 Negroes, thought it best, 
without longer abode, to depart with them and such mer- 
chandise as he had, from the coast of Africa towards the 
West Indies : and therefore commanded, with all diligence, to 
take in fresh water and fuel ; and so with speed to prepare to 

Howbeit before we departed from thence,* in a storm that 
we had, we lost one of our ships, namely, the William and 
John : of which ship and her people, we heard no tidings 
during the time of our voyage. 

■•'■ This is wrong. The William ami John was separated from the rest 
of the English fleet in the storm in the Gulf of Mexico, on the 15th 
August, 1568 ; and reached the coast of Ireland in February, 1569, see 
^p. 230, 231. 

264 The English GET AS FAR AS Cartagena, [^'-^g; 


Wherein is shewed the day and time of our departure from the 
coast of Africa, with the day and time of our arrival in the West 
Indies. Also of our trade and traffic there. And also of the 
great cruelty that the Spaniards used towards us, by the Viceroy 
his direction and appointment ; falsifying his faith and promise 
given, and seeking to have entrapped us. 

Ll things being made in a readiness, at our General 

his appointment, upon the 3rd day of February, 1568, 

we departed from the coast of Africa; having the 

weather somewhat tempestuous, which made our 

passage the more hard. 

So sailing for the space of forty-five days, upon the 27th 
of March, 1568, we came in sight of an island called Dominica, 
upon the coast of America, in the West Indies, situated in 
14° [N.] Lat. and 222° of Longitude. 

From thence, our General coasted from place to place, ever 
making traffic with the Spaniards and Indians, as he might : 
which was somewhat hardly obtained ; for that the King [of 
Spain] had-straightly charged all his Governors in those parts 
not to trade with any. 

Yet, notwithstanding, during the months of April and May, 
our General had reasonable trade and traffic, and courteous 
entertainment in sundry places, as at Margarita, Cura9ao, 
and elsewhere, till we came to Cape de la Vela, and Rio de la 
Hacha a place from whence all the pearls do come. The 
Governor there, would not, by any means, permit us to have 
any trade or traffic, nor yet suffer us to take in fresh water. 
By means whereof, our General, for the avoiding of famine 
and thirst, about the beginning of June, was enforced to land 
200 of our men ; and so, by main force and strength, to 
obtain that which, by no fair means, he could procure : and 
so recovering [capturing] the town, with the loss of two of our 
men, there was a secret and peaceable trade admitted, and 
the Spaniards came in by night, and bought of our Negroes, to 
the number of 200 and upwards, and of our other merchan- 
dise also. 

From thence, we departed for Cartagena, where the 

*'■ ?'"'is83".] Value of ships at San Juan de Ulua. 265 

Governor was so straight, that we could not obtain any traffic 
there; and so, for that our trade was near[ly] finished, our 
General thought it best to depart from thence, the rather for 
the avoiding of certain dangerous storms called the Hnricanos 
[hurricanes], which are accustomed to begin there about that 
time of the year. 

So, the 24th of July, 1568, we departed from hence, direct- 
ing our course North ; leaving the island of Cuba upon our 
right hand, to the eastward of us. 

And so sailing towards Florida, upon the 12th of August, 
an extreme tempest arose, which [enjdured for the space of 
eight days ; in which our ships were most dangerously tossed 
and beaten hither and thither, so that we were in continual 
fear to be drowned, by reason of the shallowness of the coast ; 
and in the end, we were constrained to flee for succour to the 
port of San Juan de Ulua, or Vera Cruz, situated in 19° 
N. Lat. and 279° Long., which is the port that serveth for 
the city of Mexico. 

In our seeking to recover this port, our General met, by 
the way, three small ships, that carried passengers ; which 
he took with him : and so, the i6th of September, 1568, we 
entered the said port of San Juan de Ulua. 

The Spaniards there, supposing us to have been the King 
of Spain's Fleet, the Chief Officers of the country thereabouts 
came presently [at once] aboard our General ; where perceiving 
themselves to have made an unwise adventure, they were in 
great fear to have been taken and stayed : howbeit our 
General did use them all very courteously. In the said port, 
there were twelve ships, which, by report, had in them in 
treasure, to the value of ^^200, 000 [=neayly two millions 
sterling noiv] ; all which being in our General his power, and 
at his devotion, he did freely set at liberty ; as also the pas- 
sengers which he had before stayed, not taking from any of 
them all, the value of one groat. Only he stayed two men of 
credit and account ; the one named Don Lorenzo de Alva, 
and the other Don Pedro de Revera. 

And presently our General sent to the Viceroy, to Mexico 
(which was threescore leagues off) certifying him of our 
arrival there, by force of weather; desiring that "Forasmuch 
as our Queen his Sovereign, was the King of Spain his loving 
Sister and Friend ; that therefore he would, conbidering our 

266 A Fleet of Spain worth 4^ Millions. ^^"^3; 

necessities and wants, furnish us with victuals for our Navy; 
and quietly to suffer us to repair and amend our ships. And 
furthermore, that at the arrival of the Spanish Fleet, which 
was there daih^ expected and looked for, to the end that there 
might no quarrel arise between them and our General and 
his company, for the breach of amity ; he humbly requested 
of his Excellency that there might, in this behalf, some 
special order be taken." This message was sent away the 
i6th of September, 1568 ; it being the very day of our arrival 

The next morning, being the 17th of the same month, we 
descried thirteen Sail of great ships ; and after that our 
General understood that it was the King of Spain's Fleet, 
then looked for ; he presently sent to advertise the General 
thereof, of our being in the said port, and giving him further 
to understand that " Before he should enter there into that 
harbour, it was requisite that there should pass between 
the two Generals, some orders and conditions to be observed 
on either part, for the better contriving of peace between 
them., and theirs," according to our General's request made 
unto the Viceroy. 

And, at that instant, our General was in a great perplexity 
of mind, considering with himself that if he should keep out 
that Fleet from entering into the port (a thing which he was 
very well able to do, with the help of GOD), then should 
that Fleet be in danger of present shipwreck and loss of all 
their substance which amounted to the value of 1,800,000 
crowns [=£^^0,000= about four millions and a half pounds 
sterling now] . Again he saw, that if he suffered them to enter, 
he was assured that they would practise, by all manner of 
means, to betray him and his : and, on the other side, the 
haven was so little, that the other Fleet entering, the ships 
were to ride one hard aboard of another. 

Also he saw that if their Fleet should perish by his keeping 
of them out (as of necessity they must, if he should have 
done so) ; then stood he in great fear of the Queen our Sove- 
reign's displeasure, in so weighty a cause. Therefore did he 
choose the least evil ; which was, to suffer them to enter 
under assurance : and so, to stand upon his guard, and to 


defend himself and his, from their treasons, which we were 
well assured, they would practise. 

So the messenger being returned from Don Martin de 
Henriquez, the new Viceroy (who came in the same Fleet, 
and had sufficient authority to command in all cases, both 
by sea and land, in this Province of Mexico or New Spain) 
did certify our General that " For the better maintenance of 
amity between the King of Spain and our Sovereign ; all our 
requests should be both favourably granted, and faithfully 
performed : " signifying further that " He heard and under- 
stood of the honest and friendly dealing of our General 
towards the King of Spain's subjects in all places where he 
had been, as also in the said port." 

So that, to be brief, our requests were articled, and set down 
in writing. 

The first was that we might have victuals for our money, 
and license to sell as much wares as might suffice to furnish 
our wants. 

The second, that we might be suffered peaceably to repair 
our ships. 

The third, that the Island might be in our possession 
during the time of our abode there. 

In which Island, our General, for the better safety of 
him and his, had already planted and placed certain 
ordnance ; which were eleven pieces of brass. Therefore 
he required that the same might so continue ; and that no 
Spaniard should come to land in the said Island, having or 
wearing any kind of weapon about him. 

The fourth, and last, that for the better and more sure 
performance and maintenance of peace, and of all the condi- 
tions; there might ten gentlemen of credit be delivered of either 
part, as hostages. 

These conditions were concluded and agreed upon in 
writing by the Viceroy, signed with his hand, and sealed 
Vv/ith his seal ; and ten hostages, upon either part, were 

And further it was concluded that the two Generals 
should meet ; and give faith, each to the other, for the per- 
formance of the promises. 

All which being done, the same was proclaimed by the 

268 The Spaniards prepare their treaciiery.P'- ^'''I^^^ 

sound of a trumpet ; and commandment was given that none, 
of either part, should violate or break the peace upon pain of 

Thus, at the end of three days, all was concluded ; and the 
Fleet entered the port [the 20th] ; the ships saluting one 
another, as the manner of the sea doth require. 

The morrow after, being Tuesday [the 2isfl, we laboured on 
all sides, in placing the English ships by themselves, and the 
Spanish ships by themselves : the Captains and inferior 
persons, of either part, offering and shewing great courtesy 
one to another ; and promising great amity on all sides. 
Howbeit, as the sequel shewed, the Spaniards meant nothing 
less upon their parts. For the Viceroy and Governor there- 
abouts, had secretly assembled at land, to the number of 
1,000 chosen and well appointed men : meaning the next 
Thursday, being the 23rd of September, at dinner time 
[10 a.m.], to assault us, and set upon us, at all sides. 

But before I go any further, I think it not amiss, briefly to 
describe the manner of the Island, as it then was ; and the 
force and strength that it is now of. For the Spaniards, 
since the time of our General's being there, for the better 
fortifying of the same place, have built a fair Castle and 
Bulwark very well fortified, upon the same Island. 

This port was then, at our being there, a little island of 
stones, not past three feet above water in the highest 
place ; and not past a bow shot over, any way, at the most ; 
and it standeth from the mainland, two bow shots or more. 
And there is not in all this coast, any other place for ships 
safely to arrive at. Also the north winds in this coast are of 
great violence and force ; and unless the ships be safely 
moored in, with their anchors fastened in this Island ; there 
is no remedy but present destruction and shipwreck. 

All this our General wisely foreseeing, did provide that he 
should have the said Island in his custody; or else the 
Spaniards might, at their pleasure, have cut our cables ; and 
so, with the first north wind that blew, we had had our pass- 
port, for our ships had gone ashore. 
But to return to the matter. 

The time approaching that their treason must be put in 


practice, the same Thursday morning, some appearance 
thereof began to shew itself; as shifting of weapons from 
ship to ship, and planting and bending their ordnance against 
our men that warded upon the land, with great repair of 
people : which apparent shews of breach of the Viceroy's 
faith, caused our General to send one to the Viceroy, to 
inquire of him, " What was meant thereby ? " who presently 
sent and gave order that the ordnance aforesaid, and other 
things of suspicion should be removed : returning answer to 
our General, " On the faith of a Viceroy ! that he would be 
our defence and safety from all villainous treachery." This 
was upon Thursday, in the morning. 

Our General not being therewith satisfied, seeing they had 
secretly conveyed a great number of men aboard a great Hulk 
or ship of theirs, of 900 tons ; which ship rode hard by the 
Minion : he sent again to the Viceroy, Robert Barret, the 
Master of the Jestis, a man that could speak the Spanish 
tongue very well ; and required that " those men might be 
unshipped again, which were in that great Hulk." 

The Viceroy (then perceiving that their treason was 
thoroughly espied, stayed our Master) sounded the trumpet, 
and gave order that his people should, upon all sides, charge 
upon our men which warded the shore, and elsewhere : which 
struck such a maze and sudden fear among us, that many 
gave place, and sought to recover our ships for the safety 
of themselves. 

The Spaniards, which secretly were hid in ambush at land, 
were quickly conveyed over to the Island, in their long boats ; 
and so coming to the Island, they slew all our men they could 
meet with, without any mercy. 

The Miction, which had somewhat before prepared herself 
to avoid the danger, hauled away, and abode the first brunt 
of the 300 men that were in the great Hulk. Then they 
sought to board the Jesus, where was a cruel fight, and many 
of our men slain : but yet our men defended themselves, and 
kept them out. 

So the Jesus also got loose, and joining with the Minion, the 
fight waxed hot on all sides : but they having won and got 
our ordnance on shore, did greatly annoy us. In this fight, 
there were two great ships of the Spaniards sunk, and one 
burnt. So that with their ships, they were not able to harm 

270 Hanging prisoners of war on posts. ['^'^I'sss'. 

us ; but from the shore, they beat us cruelly with our own 
ordnance, in such sort, that the Jesus was very sore spoiled. 

Suddenly, the Spaniards having fired two great ships of 
their own ; they came directly against us, which bred in our 
men a marvellous fear. 

Howbeit, the Minion, which had made her sails ready, 
shifted for herself (without the consent of the General, Captain, 
or Master) ; so that very hardly our General could be received 
into the Minion. The most of our men that were in the 
Jesus shifted for themselves, and followed the Minion in the 
boat ; and those which that small boat was not able to 
receive, were most cruelly slain by the Spaniards. 

Of our ships, none escaped saving the Minion and the 
Judith ; and all such of our men as were not in them were 
enforced to abide the tyrannous cruelty of the Spaniards. 

For it is a certain truth, that when they had taken certain 
of our men ashore ; they took them and hung them up by the 
arms upon high posts, until the blood burst out at their 
fingers' ends. Of which men so used, there is one Copstowe, 
and certain others, yet alive : who, through the merciful 
providence of the Almighty, have long since [i.e., before 
1583] arrived here at home in England; carrying still about 
with them (and shall, to their graves), the marks and tokens 
of those their inhuman, and more than barbarous, cruel 


Wherein is shewed how that, after we were escaped from the 
Spaniards, we were like to perish with famine at the sea ; and how, 
our General, for the avoiding thereof, was constrained to put half 
of his men on land. And what miseries we, after that, sustained 
among the savage people ; and how we fell again into the hands of 
the Spaniards. 

FTERthat, the Viceroy, Don Martin de Henriquez, 

had thus, contrary to his faith and promise, most 

cruelly dealt with our General, Master Hawkins, at 

San Juan de Ulua, where most of his men were, by 

the Spaniards, slain and drowned ; and all his ships sunk and 

^^■r'S.'] The last extremities of faiMine. 271 

burnt, saving the Minion and the Judith (which was a small 
bark of 50 tons, wherein was then Captain, Master Francis 
Drake aforesaid) : the same night, the said bark lost us. 

We were in great necessity, and enforced to remove with 
the Minion two bow shots from the Spanish Fleet ; where we 
anchored all that night. 

And the next morning [z^th September], we weighed anchor, 
and recovered an island, a mile from the Spaniards, where a 
storm took us with a North wind ; in which, we were greatly 
distressed, having but two cables and two anchors left. Foi 
in the conflict before, we had lost three cables and two 

The morrow after [25//^ September], the storm being ceased, 
and the weather fair; we weighed and set sail : being many 
[i.e., between 200 ajid 300] men in number, and but small 
store of victuals to suffice us for any long time : by means 
whereof we were in despair and fear, that we should perish 
through famine, so that some were in mind to yield themselves 
to the mercy of the Spaniards, others to the savages or infidels. 

And wandering thus certain days in these unknown seas, 
hunger constrained us to eat hides, cats and dogs, mice, rats, 
parrots, and monkeys : to be short, our hunger was so great, 
that we thought it savoury and sweet, whatever we could get 
to eat. 

And on [Friday] the 8th of October, we came to land again 
in the bottom [or rather on the West side] of the Bay of 
Mexico ; where we hoped to have found some inhabitants, 
that we might have had some relief of victuals, and a place 
where to repair our ship, which was so greatly bruised that 
we were scarce able, with our weary arms, to keep forth the 

Being thus oppressed with famine on the one side, and 
danger of drowning on the other; not knowing where to find 
relief, we began to be in wonderful despair, and we were of 
many minds. Amongst whom there were a great many that 
did desire our General to set them on land ; making their 
choice rather to submit themselves to the mercy of the 
savages or infidels than longer to hazard themselves at sea: 
where they very well saw that, if they should all remain 
together, if they perished not by drowning, yet hunger would 
enforce them, in the end, to eat one another. To which re- 

272 112 MEN PUT ASHORE, OCT. 8, 1 568. \_^^- ^^^lH 

quest, our General did very willingly agree, considering with 
himself that it was necessary for him to lessen his number ; 
both for the safety of himself and the rest. 

And thereupon being resolved to set half his people on 
shore, that he had then left alive ; it was a world to see how 
suddenly men's minds were altered ! for they which, a little 
before, desired to be set on land, were now of another mind, 
and requested rather to stay. 

By means whereof, our General was enforced, for the more 
contentation of all men's minds, and to take away all occa- 
sions of offence, to take this order. 

First, he made choice of such persons of service and 
account as were needful to stay : and that being done, 
of those who were willing to go, he appointed such as he 
thought might best be spared. 

And presently appointed that, by the boat, they should 
set on shore : our General promising us, that, the next year, 
he would either come himself, or else send to fetch us home. 

Here again, it would have caused any stony heart to have 
relented, to have heard the pitiful moan that many did make ; 
and how loath they were to depart. The weather was then 
somewhat stormy and tempestuous, and therefore we were 
to pass with great danger [i.e., to the shore] ; yet notwithstand- 
ing there was no remedy but we that were appointed to go 
away, must of necessity do so. 

Howbeit, those that went in the first boat were safely set 
ashore ; but of them which went in the second boat, of which 
number I myself was one, the seas wrought so high that we 
could not attain to the shore : and therefore we were con- 
strained through the cruel dealing of John Hampton, Captain 
of the Minion, John Sanders, Boatswain of the Jesus, and 
Thomas Pollard, his [i.e., the Boatswain's] Mate, to leap out of 
the boat into the main sea, having more than a mile to the 
shore ; and so to shift for ourselves, and either to sink or 
swim. And of those that were so, as it were, thrown out, 
and compelled to leap into the sea ; there were two drowned, 
which were of Captain Bland's [a Frenchman of Rochelle, see 
p. 310] men. 

In the evening of the same day, it being Friday, the 8th of 

^'- r''l583.] Attacked and stripped by Ciiichemics. 273 

October, 1568, when we were all come ashore, we found fresh 
water; whereof some of our men drank so much that they 
had almost cast themselves away, for we could scarce get life 
in them for the space of two or three hours after. Some 
others were so cruelly swollen, what with the drinking in of 
the salt water, and what with the eating of the fruit, which 
is called Capule [1 chestnut], having a stone in it much like an 
almond, which we found on land, they were all in very ill 
case. So that we were, in a manner, all of us, both feeble, 
faint, and weak. 

The next morning, it being Saturday, the gth of October, 
we thought it best to travel along by the sea coast, to seek 
out some place of habitation ; whether they were Christians 
or savages, we were indifferent, so that we might have where- 
withal to sustain our hungry bodies. 

So departing from a hill, where we had rested all night, 
not having any dry thread about us : for those that were not 
wet, being thrown into the sea, were thoroughly wet with 
rain ; for it rained cruelly all the night. 

As we went from the hill, and were come into the plain, 
we were greatly troubled to pass, for the grass and woods 
[shrubs] that grew there higher than any man. On the left 
hand, we had the sea; and upon the right hand, great woods : 
so that, of necessity, we must needs pass, on our way west- 
ward, through those marshes. 

Going thus, suddenly, we were assaulted by the Indians, a 
warlike kind of people ; which are, in a manner as cannibals, 
although they do not feed upon men's flesh as cannibals do. 
These people are called Chichemics ; and they use to wear 
their hair long, even down to their knees. They do also 
colour their faces green, yellow, red, and blue ; which maketh 
them to seem very ugly and terrible to behold. 

These people do keep wars against the Spaniards ; of whom 
they have been oftentimes very cruelly handled : for with the 
Spaniards there is no mercy. 

They perceiving us, at our first coming on land, supposed 
us to have been their enemies, the bordering Spaniards ; and 
having by their forerunners [scouts] described what number 
we were, and how feeble and weak, without armour or weapon, 
they suddenly (according to their accustomed manner when 
they encounter with any people in warlike sort) raised a 

f-:xr.. G.IK. W. 18 

2 74 Anthony Goddard's party go westward. P'- V'%\ 

terrible and huge cry ; and so came running fiercely upon us, 
shooting off their arrows as thick as hail. 

Unto whose mercy, we were constrained to yield, not having 
amongst us any kind of armour : nor yet weapon, saving one 
caliver and two old rusty swords, whereby to make any re- 
sistance or to save ourselves. Which when they perceived 
that we sought not any other than favour and mercy at their 
hands, and that we are not their enemies, the Spaniards ; 
they had compassion on us, and came and caused us all to 
sit down. And when they had a while surveyed and taken a 
perfect view of us, they came to all such as had any coloured 
clothes amongst us, and those they did strip stark naked, and 
took their clothes away with them ; but they that were 
apparelled in black, they did not meddle withal. And so 
went their ways, and left us, without doing us any further 
hurt : only in the first brunt, they killed eight of our men. 

At their departure, they perceiving in what weak case we 
were, pointed us with their hands, which way we should 
go to come to a town of the Spaniards (which, as we after- 
wards perceived, was not past ten leagues from thence), 
using these words, Tauipeco ! tampeco Chrisiiano ! tampeco 
Christiano ! which is as much, we think, as to say in English, 
" Go that way, and you shall find the Christians ! " [or 
rather the name of the town of Tampico, at the mouth of the 
Panuco]. The weapons that they use, are no others but bows 
and arrows ; and their aim is so good that they very seldom 
miss to hit anything that they shoot at. 

Shortly after they had left us stript, as aforesaid, we thought 
it best to divide ourselves into two companies. So being 
separated, half of us went under the leading of Anthony 
GoDDARD (who is a man alive, and dwelleth at this instant 
[? 1583I in the town of Plymouth), whom before, we chose 
to be Captain over us all : and those which went under his 
leading (of which number, I, Miles Phillips, was one), 
travelled westward, that way which the Indians with their 
hands had before pointed us to go. 

The other half went, under the leading of one John Hooper, 
whom they did choose for their Captain (and with the company 
that went with him, David Ingram [p. 249] was one), and 
they took their way, and travelled northward. And shortly 

"■rSa.'] John Hooper's party start northward. 275 

after, within the space of two days, they were again en- 
countered with the savage people : and their Captain, Hooper, 
and two more of their company were slain. 

Then, again, they divided themselves. Some held on their 
way still northward : and some others, knowing that we were 
gone westward, sought to meet with us again ; as, in truth, 
there was about the number of 25 or 26 of them that met 
with us, in the space of four days again. 

Then we began to reckon among ourselves, how many we 
were that were set on shore : and we found the number to be 
114 : whereof two were drowned in the sea, and eight slain at 
the first encounter ; so that there remained 104, of which 25 
went westward with us, and 52 to the north with Hooper and 
Ingram. And as Ingram since hath often told me, there 
were not past three of their company slain ; and there were 
but 26 of them that came again to us. So that of the company 
that went northward, there is yet lacking, and not certainly 
heard of, to the number of 23 men : and verily I do think that 
there are some of them yet alive, and married in the said 
country, at Sibola ; as hereafter I purpose, GOD willing 1 to 
discourse of more particularly, with the reason and causes 
that make me so to think of them, that were [thus] lacking; 
which were David Ingram, Twide, Browne [p. 259], and 
sundry others whose names we could not remember. 

Being thus met again together, we travelled on still west- 
ward, sometimes through such thick woods that we were en- 
forced to break away, with cudgels, the brambles and bushes 
from tearing our naked bodies. Some other times, we should 
travel through the plains in such high grass that we could 
scarce see one another. And as we passed, in some places, 
we should have of our men slain, and fall down suddenly ; 
being stricken by the Indians, which stood behind trees and 
bushes, in secret places, and so killed our men as they went 
by ; for we went scatteringly in seeking of fruits to relieve 

We were also, oftentimes, greatly annoyed with a kind of 
fly, which in the Indian tongue is called, Tequani, and the 
Spaniards call them Mnsketas [mosquitosj. 

There are also in the said country, a number of other flies, 
but none so noisome as these tequanies be. You shall hardly 

276 Great joy at hearing a cock crow, p^-^'^'i'^^j; 

see them, they be so small ; for they are scarce so big as a 
gnat. They will suck one's blood marvellously, and if you 
kill them, while they are sucking, they are so venomous that 
the place will swell extremely even as one that is stung with 
a wasp or bee : but if you let them suck their fill and to go 
away of themselves, they do you no other hurt, but leave 
behind them a red spot somewhat bigger than a flea-biting. 
At first, we were terribly troubled with these kind of flies, 
not knowing their qualities : and resistance we could make 
none against them, being naked. As for cold, we feared not 
any : the country there is always so warm. 

And as we travelled thus, for the space of ten or twelve 
days, our Captain did oftentimes cause certain to go to the 
tops of high trees to see if they could descry any town or 
place of inhabitants ; but they could not perceive any. 

Using often the same order, to climb up into high trees, at 
the length, they descried a great river that fell from the north- 
west into the main sea ; and presently after, we heard a 
harquebuss shot off, which did greatly encourage us, for 
thereby we knew that we were near to some Christians, and 
did therefore hope shortly to find some succour and comfort. 

Within the space of one hour after, as we travelled, we 
heard a cock crow : which was no small joy to us. 

So we came to the north side of the river of Panuco ; where 
the Spaniards have certain Salinas [salt pans] : at which 
place it was that the harquebuss was shot off, which we 
heard before. To which place, we went not directly ; but 
missing thereof, we left it about a bow shot upon our left 

Of this river, we drank very greedily; for we had not met 
with any water, in six days before. 

As we were hereby the river, resting ourselves, and longing 
to come to the place where the cock did crow, and where the 
harquebuss was shot off; we perceived many Spaniards upon 
the other side of the river, riding up and down on horseback: 
and they perceiving us, did suppose that we had been of the 
Indians their bordering enemies, the Chichemics. The river 
was not past half a bow shot over. 

Presently, one of the Spaniards took an Indian boat called 
a canoe; and so came over, being rowed by two Indians. 
Having taken the view of us, he did presently row over back 

■ ? 'I'ssl:] Taken by the Spaniards of Tampico. 277 

again to the Spaniards; who, without any delay, made out 
about the number of twenty horsemen ; and embarking them- 
selves m the canoes, they led their horses by the reins, swim- 
mmg over after them. Being come over, to that side of the 
river where we were, they saddled their horses ; and bein- 
mounted upon them, with their lances charged, they cam? 
very hercely, running at us. 

Our Captain Anthony Goddard, seeing them come in 
that order, did persuade us to submit and yield ourselves 
unto them ; for bemg naked as we were at this time, without 
weapon, we could not make any resistance: whose biddin<^ 
we obeyed. '^ 

Upon the yielding of ourselves, they perceived us to be 
Christians ; and did call for more canoes, and carried us over 
by lour and four in a boat. Being come on the other side, thev 
understanding by our Captain how long we had been without 
meat r/oo^J, imparted [divided] between two and two, a loaf of 
bread made of that country wheat which the Spaniards call 
Maize, of the bigness of one of our halfpenny loaves : which 
bread is named in the Indian tongue, Clashacally. 

1 his bread was very sweet and pleasant unto us, for we 
had not eaten anything in a long time before : and what is it 
that hunger doth not make to have a savoury and a delicate 
taste ? 

Having thus imparted the bread amongst us, those which 
were men, they sent afore to the town ; having also many 
Indians, inhabitants of that place, to guard them. They 
which xyere young, as boys ; and some such also as were 
teeble they took up upon their horses behind them. And so 
carried us to the town, where they dwelt ; which was very 
near a mile distant from the place where we came over. 

This town [Tampico] is well situated, and w^ll replenished 
with all kinds of fruits, as oranges, lemons, pomegranates 
apricots, and peaches, and sundry others : and is inhabited 
with a number of tame Indians or Mexicans ; and had in it 
also, at that time, about the number of 200 Spaniards (men ' 
women, and children), besides Negroes. 

Of the Salinas, which lie upon the west side of the river 
more than a mile distant from thence, they make a great 
proht. Tor salt is an excellent good merchandise there. The 
Indians do buy much thereof, and carry it up into the country 

278 Robbed again, this time by Spaniards. [^- ^TX' 

and there sell it to their own people, doubling the price. 
Also much of the salt made in this place is transported from 
thence, by sea, to sundry other places, as Cuba, San Juan 
de Ulua, and the other ports of Tamiago and Tamachos, 
which are two barred havens [i.e., with sand bars] west-and-by- 
south, above threescore leagues, from San Juan de Ulua. 

When we were all come to the town, the Governor there, 
shewed himself very severe unto us, and threatened to hang 
us all. Then he demanded, " What money we had ? " which, 
in truth, was very little : for the Indians, which we first 
withal, had, in a manner, taken all from us ; and of that 
which was left, the Spaniards, which brought us over, took away 
a good part also. Howbeit, the Governor here had from 
Anthony Goddard a chain of gold, which was given unto 
him at Cartagena, by the Governor there ; and from others, 
he had some small store of money. So that we accounted 
that among u^ all, he had the number of 500 pesos [i.e., pesos 
of silver, at 6s. 8d. each=£i^^ or about ■£"i,ooo 7iow], besides 
the chain of gold. 

Having thus satisfied himself, when he had taken all that 
we had ; he caused us to be put into a little house, much like 
a hogsty, where we were almost smothered [suffocated]. 

Before we were thus shut up in that little cot, they gave 
us some of the country wheat, called Maize, sodden : which 
they feed their hogs withal. But many of our men, which had 
been hurt by the Indians at our first coming on land, whose 
wounds were very sore and grievous, desired to have the help 
of their Surgeons to cure their wounds. The Governor, and 
most of them, all answered that " We should have none other 
surgeon but the hangman ; which should sufficiently heal us 
of all our griefs." 

Thus reviling us, and calling us, " English dogs ! " and 
" Lutheran heretics ! " we remained the space of three days 
in this miserable state, not knowing what should become of 
us ; waiting every hour to be bereaved of our lives. March in a gang up to Mexico. 279 


Wherein is shewed how we were used in Paniico [Tampico], and 
in what fear of death we were there. And how we were carried to 
Mexico, to the Viceroy ; and of our imprisonment there, and at 
Tescuco, with the courtesies and cruelties we received during that 
time. And how, in the end, we were, by Proclamation, given as 
slaves to sundry Spanish gentlemen. 

PoN the fourth day, after our coming thither, and 
there remaining in a perplexity ; looking every hour 
when we should suffer death : there came a great 
number of Indians and Spaniards, weaponed, to fetch 
us out of the house. And amongst them, we espied one that 
brought a great many of new halters : at the sight whereof, 
we were greatly amazed, and made no other account but that 
we should presently have suffered death ; and so, crying and 
calling on GOD for mercy and forgiveness of our sins, we 
prepared ourselves, making us ready to die. 

Yet in the end, as the sequel shewed, their meaning was 
not so. For when we were come out of the house, with those 
halters, they bound our arms behind us ; and so coupling us 
two and two together, they commanded us to march on thro'ugh 
the town, and so alongst the country, from place to place, to- 
wards the city of Mexico ; which is distant from Panuco [Tam- 
pico], west-and-by-south, the space of threescore leagues: 
having only but two Spaniards to conduct us; they being ac- 
companied with a great number of Indians, warding, on each 
side, with bows and arrows, lest we should escape from them. 
Travelling in this order, upon the second day, at night, we 
came unto a tovyn, which the Indians call Nohele ; and the 
Spaniards call it Santa Maria. In which town there is a 
House of White Friars ; which did very courteously use us, 
and gave us hot meat, as mutton and broth ; and garments' 
also to cover ourselves withal, made of white bayes [baize]. 
We fed very greedily of the meat, and of the Indian fruit 
called Nochole, which fruit is long and small, much like in 
fashion to a little cucumber. Our greedy feeding caused us 
to fall sick of hot burning agues. 
And here at this place, one Thomas Baker, one of our 

28o Difference between their two Officers.^- ^''53: 

men, died of a hurt ; for had been before shot in the throat 
with an arrow, at the first encounter. 

The next morrow, about ten of the clock, we departed from 
thence, bound two and two together, and guarded as before. 
And so travelled on our way towards Mexico, till we came to 
a town within forty leagues of Mexico, named Mesticlan ; 
where is a House of Black Friars ; and in this town there are 
about the number of 300 Spaniards, men, women, and 
children. The Friars sent us meat from the House ready 
dressed ; and the Friars, and men and women, used us very 
courteously, and gave us some shirts and other such things 
as we lacked. Here our men were very sick of their agues ; 
and with the eating of another fruit, called in the Indian 
tongue, Giiiaccos. 

The next morning, we departed from thence, with our two 
Spaniards, and Indian guard ; as aforesaid. 

Of these two Spaniards, the one was an aged man, who, 
all the way, did very courteously intreat us ; and would care- 
fully go before to provide for us, both meat and things 
necessary, to the uttermost of his power. The other was a 
young man, who, all the way, travelled with us, and never 
departed from us ; who was a very cruel caitiff. He carried 
a javelin in his hand ; and sometimes when our men, with 
very feebleness and faintness, were not able to go as fast as he 
required them ; he would take his javelin in both his hands, 
and strike them with the same, between the neck and the 
shoulders so violently that he would strike them down : then 
would he cry, and say, Marches ! marches Inglescs perros ! 
Lntheranos ; enemicos de DIOS ! which is as much as to say in 
English, " March ! march on, you English dogs ! Lutherans! 
enemies to GOD ! " 

And the next day, we came to a town called Pachuca. 
There are two places of that name, as this Town of Pachuca ; 
and the Mines of Pachuca, which are mines of silver, and are 
about six leagues distant from this town of Pachuca, towards 
the north-west. 

Here, at this town, the good old man, our governor, 
suffered us to stay two days and two nights, having com- 
passion of our sick and weak men : full sore against the mind 
of the young man, his companion. 

From thence, we took our journey, and travelled four or 


five days, by little villages, and Stantias which are farms or 
dairy houses of the Spaniards ; and ever, as we had need, the 
good old man would still provide us sufficiently of meats, fruits, 
and water to sustain us. 

At the end of which five days, we came to a town within 
five leagues of Mexico, which is called Quoglilican ; where we 
also stayed one whole day and two nights ; where was a fair 
House of Grey Friars ; howbeit, we saw none of them. 

Here we were told by the Spaniards in the town, that we 
were not past fifteen English miles from thence to Mexico ; 
whereof we were all very joyful and glad : hoping that when 
we came thither, we should either be relieved and set free out 
of bonds, or else be quickly despatched out of our lives. For 
seeing ourselves thus carried bound from place to place, al- 
though some used us courteously, yet could we never joy nor 
be merry till we might perceive ourselves set free from that 
bondage, either by death or otherwise. 

The next morning, we departed from thence, on our journey 
towards Mexico ; and so travelled till we came within two 
leagues of it. Where there was built by the Spaniards a very 
fair church, called Our Lady's Church ; in which, there is an 
image of Our Lady, of silver and gilt, being as high and as large 
as a tali woman [Vol. YV.p. 23:?]; in which church, and before 
this image, there are as many lamps of silver, as there be 
days in the year ; which, upon high days, are all lighted. 

Whensoever any Spaniards pass by this church, although 
they be on horseback, they will alight, and come into the 
church, and kneel before this image, and pray to our Lady to 
defend them from all evil ; so that, whether he be horseman 
Oi- footman, he will not pass by, but first go into the church, 
and pray as aforesaid ; which if they do not, they think and 
believe that they shall never prosper. Which image, they 
call in the Spanish tongue. Nostra Sefiora de Gnadaloupc. 

At this place, there are certain cold baths, which arise, 
springing up as though the water did seethe. The water 
whereof is somewhat brackish in taste, but very good for any 
that have any sore or wound, to wash themselves therewith. 
For, as they say, it healeth many. And every year, upon our 
Lady's Day [25//^ March], the people use to repair thither to 
offer, and to pray in the church before the image : and they say 
that Our Lady of Guadaloupe doth work a number of miracles. 

282 Are very well treated by the citizens, p'-™?'; 

About this church, there is not any town inhabited by 
Spaniards ; but certain Indians do dwell there, in houses of 
their own country building. 

Here, we were met with a great number of Spaniards on 
horseback, which came from Mexico to see us, both gentle- 
men and men of occupations ; and they came as people to 
see a wonder. We were still called upon to march on ; and 
so, about four of the clock in the afternoon of the said day, 
we entered into the city of Mexico, by the way or street 
called La Calla de Santa Catharina : and we stayed not in 
any place till we came to the House or Palace of the Viceroy, 
Don Martin de Henriquez, which standeth in the midst 
of the city, hard by the Market Place, called La Plaza dell 

We had not stayed any long time at the place, but there 
was brought us by the Spaniards from the Market Place, 
great store of meat sufficient to have satisfied five times so 
many as we were. Some also gave us hats, and some gave 
us money. In which place, we stayed for the space of two 

From thence, we were conveyed by water in large canoes 
to an Hospital, where certain of our men were lodged, which 
were taken before, at the fight at San Juan de Ulua. We 
should have gone to Our Lady's Hospital ; but there were 
there also so many of our men taken before, at that fight, 
that there was no room for us. 

After our coming thither, many of the company that came 
with me from Panuco died, within the space of fourteen days. 
Soon after which time, we were taken forth from that place, 
and put together in Our Lady's Hospital ; in which place, 
we were courteously used, and oftentimes visited by virtuous 
gentlemen and gentlewomen of the city : who brought us 
divers things to comfort us withal, as succets [szceetiiieais], 
marmalades, and such other things ; and would also many 
times give us many things, and that very liberally. 

In which Hospital, we remained for the space of six months 
[i.e., till the suuuner of 1569], until we were all whole and 
sound of body. 

Then we were appointed by the Viceroy, to be carried 

M. Phiiiipy Tjjey break out of Tescuco prison. 283 

into the town of Tescuco, which is distant from Mexico, 
south-west, eight leagues. In which town, there are certain 
Houses of Correction and Punishment, for ill people called 
Obraches ; like to Bridewell here in London. Into which 
place, divers Indians were sold for slaves ; some for ten years 
and some for twelve. 

It was no small grief unto us, when we understood that we 
should be carried thither ; and to be used as slaves. We had 
rather be put to death. 

Howbeit, there was no remedy ; but we were carried to the 
Prison of Tescuco : where we were not put to any labour ; 
but were very straitly kept, and almost famished. Yet, by 
the good providence of our merciful GOD, we happened to 
meet there, with one Robert Sweeting, who was the son of 
an English man born of a Spanish woman [p. 287 ; and Vol. 
IV. p. i^]. This man could speak very good English; and 
by his means we were helped very much with victuals from 
the Indians, as muttons [sheep], hens, and bread. And if we 
had not been so relieved, we had surely perished. And yet 
all the provision that we had got that way was but slender. 
And continuing thus straitly kept in prison there, for the 
space of two months ; at the length, we agreed amongst our- 
selves to break forth of prison, come of it what would. For 
we were minded rather to suffer death, than to live longer in 
that miserable state. 

And so having escaped out of prison, we knew not what 
way to fly for the safety of ourselves. The night was dark, 
and it rained terribly : and not having any guide, we went we 
knew not whither. 

In the morning, at the appearing of the day, we perceived 
ourselves to be come hard to the city of Mexico; which is 24 
English miles from Tescuco. 

The day being come, we were espied by the Spaniards, and 
pursued, and taken : and brought before the Viceroy and 
the Head Justices, who threatened to hang us, for breaking' 
the King's prison. 

Yet, in the end, they sent us into a garden belonging to 
the Viceroy ; and coming thither, we found there our English 
gentlemen, which were delivered as hostages when ouf 

284 Are apportioned out as slaves! p^"™83; 

General was betrayed at San Juan de Ulua, as is aforesaid. 
And with them also, we found Robert Barret, the Master 
of the Jesus. 

In which place, we remained, labouring and doing such 
things as we were commanded, for the space of four months ; 
having but two sheep a day allowed to suffice us all, being 
very nearly a hundred men; and for bread, we had every man, 
two loaves a day, of the quantity of one halfpenny loaf. 

At the end of which four months [i.e., about January 1570], 
they having removed our Gentlemen hostages and the 
Master of the Jesus to a prison in the Viceroy's own house 
[p. 324] ; he did cause it to be proclaimed, that what gentle- 
man Spaniard soever was willing, or would have any Eng- 
lishman to serve him, and be bound to keep him forthcoming, 
to appear before the Justices within one month after notice 
given ; that he should repair to the said garden, and there 
take his choice : which Proclamation was no sooner made, 
but the gentlemen came and repaired to the garden amain : 
so that happy was he, that could soonest get one of us. 


Wherein is shewed in what good sort, and how wealthily we 
lived with our Masters, until the coming of the Inquisition : when 
again our sorrows began afresh. Of our imprisonment in the 
Holy House ; and of the severe judgement and sentences given 
against us, and with what rigour and cruelty the same were 

He Gentlemen that took us for their servants or 
slaves, did new apparel us throughout ; with whom 
we abode, doing such seixice as they appointed us 
unto, which was, for the most part, to attend upon 
them at the table, and to be as their chamberlains [serving 
men or valets], and to wait upon them, when they went abroad, 
which they greatly accounted of. For in that country, no 
Spaniard will serve another; but they arc, all of thtm, 



"■^'Isss'.] Some Hostages & Barret are burnt. 285 

attended and served by Indians, weekly ; and by Negroes, 
which be their slaves, during their life. 

In this sort, we remained, and served in the said city of 
Mexico and thereabouts, for the space of a year and somewhat 
longer [ ? //// Spring of 1571]. 

Afterwards, many of us were appointed by our masters, to 
go to sundry of their mines, where they had to do ; and to be 
as Overseers of the Negroes and Indians that laboured there. 

In which mines, many of us did profit and gain greatly. 
For first we were allowed 300 pesos a man for a year; which 
is £^0 sterling [^=about ^^500 now]. And besides that, the 
Indians and Negroes which wrought under our charge, upon 
our well using and intreating of them, would, at times (as 
upon Saturdays when they had left work) labour for us ; and 
blow as much silver as should be worth unto us 3 marks or 
thereabouts (every mark being worth 65^ pesos of their money; 
which ig| pesos is worth £^ los. of our money). 

Sundry weeks, we did gain so much by this means, besides 
our wages, that many of us became very rich, and were 
worth 3,000 or 4,000 pesos [=^600 or £Hoo:=about £"5,000 
or £y,ooo now]. For we lived and gained thus much in those 
mines, in some three or four years. 

As concerning those gentlemen which were delivered as 
hostages, and that were kept in prison in the Viceroy's house ; 
after that we [about January, 1570] were gone from out of the 
garden to serve gentlemen as aforesaid ; they remained 
prisoners in the said house, for the space of four months after 
their coming thither. 

At the end whereof [in the Summer of 1570], the Fleet being 
ready to depart from San Juan de Ulua, to go for Spain ; the 
said Gentlemen * were sent away into Spain, with the Fleet 
[p. 324]. Where, as I have heard it credibly reported, many 
of them died with the cruel handling of the Spaniards in 
the Inquisition House ; as those which have been delivered 
home after they had suffered the persecution of that House, 
can more perfectly declare. 

Robert Barret,* the Master of the Jesus, was also sent 

* Note the murderous inustice of this. Neither the hostages, noi 
Barri.t had fm ght a stroke at San Juan de Ulua. 

286 Holy Hellish House come to Mexico. [^^"583. 

away, with the Fleet into Spain [p. 324] ; where, afterwards, 
he suffered persecution in the Inquisition ; and at the last, 
was condemned to be burnt, and with him three or four 
more of our men. Of whom, one was named Gregory, and 
another John Browne, whom I knew; for they were of our 
General's Musicians : but the names of the rest that suffered 
with them, I know not. 

Now after that six years were fully expired since our first 
coming into the Indies, in which time, we had been imprisoned 
and served in the said country, as is before truly declared : in 
the year of our Lord 1574 [? 1573-4], the Inquisition began 
to be established in the Indies ; very much against the minds 
of many of the Spaniards themselves. For never until this 
time, since their first conquering and planting in the Indies, 
were they subject to that bloody and cruel Inquisition. 

The Chief Inquisitor was named Don Pedro Moya de 
CoNTRERES, and JuAN DE BouiLLA, his companion; and Juan 
Sanchis, the Fiscal ; and Pedro de la Rios, the Secretary. 

They being come and settled, and placed in a very fair 
house near unto the White Friars (considering with them- 
selves that they must make an entrance and beginning of 
that their most detestable Inquisition here in Mexico, to the 
terror of the whole country) thought it best to call us that 
were Englishmen first in question : and so much the rather, 
for that they had perfect knowledge and intelligence that 
many of us were become very rich, as hath been already de- 
clared ; and therefore we were a very good booty and prey to 
the Inquisitors. So that now again began our sorrows afresh. 

For we were sent for, and sought out in all places of the 
country; and Proclamation made, upon pain of losing of goods 
and excommunication, that no man should hide or keep 
secret any Englishman or any part of his goods. 

By means whereof, we were all soon apprehended in all 
places, and all our goods seized and taken for the Inquisitors' 
use. And so, from all parts of the country, we were conveyed 
and sent as prisoners to the city of Mexico ; and there com- 
mitted to prison, in sundry dark dungeons, where we could 
not see but by candle light ; and were never past two together 
in one place : so that we saw not one another, neither could 
one of us tell what was become of another. 


Thus we remained close imprisoned for the space of a year 
and a half, and others for some less time : for they came to 
prison ever as they were apprehended. 

During which time of our imprisonment, at the first begin- 
ning, we were often called before the Inquisitors alone ; and 
there severely examined of our faith ; and commanded to say 
the Pater noster, the Ave Maria, and the Creed in Latin: 
which, GOD knoweth ! a great number of us could not say 
otherwise than in the English tongue. And having the said 
Robert Sweeting, who was our friend at Tescuco always 
present with them for an interpreter, he made report for us, 
that in our own country speech, we could say them perfectly, 
although not word for word as they were in the Latin. 

Then did they proceed to demand of us, upon our oaths, 
" What we did believe of the Sacrament ? " and " Whether 
there did remain any bread or wine, after the words of con- 
secration, Yea or No ? " and whether we did not believe that 
the Host of bread which the priest did hold up over his head, 
and the wine that was in the chalice, was the very true and 
perfect body and blood of our Saviour Christ, Yea or No ? " 

To which, if we answered not "Yea! " then there was no 
way but death. 

Then they would demand of us, " What did we remember 
of ourselves, what opinions we had held or been taught to 
hold contrary to the same, whiles we were in England ? " 

So we, for the safety of our lives, were constrained to say 
that, " We never did believe, nor had been taught otherwise 
than as before we had said." 

Then would they charge us that " We did not tell them 
the truth. That they knew to the contrary, and therefore we 
should call ourselves to remembrance, and make them a better 
answer at the next time, or else we should be racked, and 
made to confess the truth whether we would or not I" 

And so coming again before them, the next time, we were 
still demanded of "our belief whiles we were in England, and 
how we had been taught ; " and also what we thought, or did 
know of such of our own company as they did name unto 
us. So that we could never be free from such demands. 

And, at other times, they would promise us that if we would 
tell them truth, then should we have favour and be set at 
liberty ; although we very well knew their fair speeches 

288 Preparing for a Holy Thursday tragedy. l™ll: 

were but means to intrap us, to the hazard and loss of our 

Howbeit, GOD so mercifully wrought for us, by a secret 
means that we had, that we kept us still to our first answer; 
and would still say that " we had told the truth unto them ; 
and knew no more by ourselves, nor any other of our fellows 
than as we had declared ; and that for our sins and offences 
in England, against GOD, and Our Lady, and any of His 
blessed Saints ; we were right heartily sorry for the same, 
and did cry GOD, mercy!" And besought the Inquisitors, 
" For GOD's sake, considering that we came unto those 
countries by force of weather, and against our wills ; and 
that we had never, in all our lives, either spoken or done 
anything contrary to their laws ; that therefore they would 
have mercy upon us ! " Yet all this would not serve. 

About the space of three months before [i.e., in jfanuary, 
1575] they proceeded to their severe judgement, we were all 
racked [i.e., tortured on the rack] ; and some enforced to utter 
against themselves, which afterwards cost them their lives. 

And having thus got, from our own mouths, sufficient for 
them to proceed in judgement against us ; they caused a large 
scaffold to be made in the midst of the Market Place in Mexico, 
right over against the Head Church : and fourteen or fifteen 
days before the day of their judgement, with the sound of 
trumpet and the noise of their attabalies (which are a kind of 
drums) they did assemble the people in all parts of the city ; 
before whom it was then solemnly proclaimed that "whoso- 
ever would, upon such a day, repair to the Market Place, 
they should hear the sentence of the Holy Inquisition against 
the English heretics, Lutherans ; and also see the same put 
in execution." 

Which being done, and the time approaching of this cruel 
judgement ; the night before, they came to the prison where 
we were, with certain Officers of that Holy Hellish House, 
bringing with them certain fools' coats, which they had pre- 
pared for us, being called in their language, San Benitos, 
which coats were made of yellow cotton, and red crosses upon 
them both before and behind. 

They were so busied in putting on their coats about us, 
and in bringing us out into a large yard, and placing and 
[apjpointing us in what order we should go to the scaffold or 

M. Phillips.-| ^ CRUEL JUDGEMENT ON 7 1 PRISONERS. 289 

place of judgement upon the morrow, that they did not once 
suffer us to sleep all that night long. 

The next morning being come, there was given to every 
one of us, for our breakfast, a cup of wine and a slice of bread 
fried in honey ; and so about eight of the clock in the morn- 
ing, we set forth of the prison : every man alone, in his yel- 
low coat, and a rope about his neck, and a great green wax 
candle in his hand unlighted ; having a Spaniard appointed, 
to go upon either side of every one of us. 

So marching in this order and manner towards the Scaf- 
fold in the Market Place, which was a bow shot distant or 
thereabouts, we found a great assembly of people all the way, 
and such a throng that certain of the Inquisitors' Officers, on 
horseback, were constrained to make way. 

So coming to the Scaffold, we went up by a pair of stairs, 
and found seats ready made, and prepared for us to sit down 
on, every man in the order as he should be called to receive 
his judgement. 

We being thus set down as we were appointed : presently 
the Inquisitors came up another pair of stairs ; and the Viceroy 
and all the Chief Justices with them. 

When they were set down under the Cloth of Estate, and 
placed according to their degrees and calling; then came up 
also a great number of Friars, White, Black, and Grey. They, 
being about the number of 300 persons, were set in the places 
appointed for them there. 

There was there a solemn Oyez ! made ; and silence 

And then presently began their severe and cruel judge- 

The first man that was called, was one Roger, the 
Chief Armourer of the Jesus : and he had judgement to 
have 300 stripes on horseback; and, after, was condemned 
to the galleys, as a slave, for ten years. 

After him, were called John Gray, John Browne, 
John Rider, John Moon, James Collier, and one 
Thomas Browne. These were adjudged to have 200 
stripes on horseback ; and, after, to be committed to the 
galleys for the space of eight years. 

Then was called John Keies, and was adjudged to 

Eag. Cak. V. ig 

290 A BLESSED EXERCISE FOR GoOD FrIDAY! ["^^^ ^'"l'^^; 

have 100 stripes on horseback ; and condemned to serve 
in the galleys for the space of six years. 

Then were severally called, to the number of tifty- 
three ; one after another: and every man had his several 
judgement. Some to have 200 stripes on horseback, and 
some 100 ; and condemned for slaves in the galleys, 
some for six years, some for eight, and some for ten. 

And then was I, Miles Phillips, called ; and was ad- 
judged to serve in a Monastery for five years [or rather 
the three years 1575-1578, see p. 294] without any stripes ; 
and to wear a fool's coat, or San Benito, during all that 

Then were called John Story, Richard Williams, 

David Alexander, Robert Cooke, Paul Horsewell, 

and Thomas Hull. These six were condemned to serve 

in Monasteries without stripes ; some for three years, and 

some for four ; and to wear the San Benito during all the 

said time. 

Which being done, and it now drawing towards night, 

George Rivelie, Peter Momfrie, and Cornelius the 

Irishman were called : and had their judgement to be burnt to 

ashes. And so were presently [immediately] sent away to the 

place of execution in the Market Place, but a little from the 

Scaffold : where they were quickly burnt and consumed. 

And as for us that had received our judgement, being 68 in 
number [With the three burnt, the total number of the English 
sufferers was therefore yi] ; we were carried back that night to 
prison again. 

And the next day, in the morning, being Good Friday [ist 
April], the year of our Lord 1575, we were all brought into a 
court of the Inquisitors' Palace ; where we found a horse in 
a readiness for every one of our men which were condemned 
to have stripes, and to be committed to the galleys, which 
were in number 61. 

So they being enforced to mount up on horseback, naked 
from the middle upwards, were carried to be shewed as a 
spectacle for all the people to behold throughout the chief 
and principal streets of the city ; and had the number of 
stripes appointed to every one of them, most cruelly laid 
upon their naked bodies with long whips, by sundry men ap- 
pointed to be the executioners thereof. And before our men 

^' r^'S'.] Phillips' mild and fortunate sentence. 291 

there went a couple of Criers, which cried as they went, 
"Behold these English dogs! Lutherans! enemies to 
GOD ! " And all the way as they went, there were some of 
the Inquisitors themselves, and of the Familiars of that 
rakehell Order, that cried to the executioners, " Strike ! Lay 
on those English heretics! Lutherans ! GOD's enemies ! " 

So this horrible spectacle being shewed round about the 
city ; and they returned to the Inquisitor's House, with their 
backs all gore blood, and swollen with great bumps: they were 
then taken from their horses ; and carried [taken] again to 
prison, where they remained until they were sent into Spain 
to the galleys, there to receive the rest of their martyrdom. 

I, and the six others with me, which had judgement, and 
were condemned amongst the rest, to serve an apprenticeship 
in the Monasteries, were taken presently, and sent to certain 
Religious Houses appointed for the purpose. 


Wherein is shewed how we were used in the Religious Houses ; 
and that when the time was expired that we were adjudged to serve 
in them, there came news to Mexico of Master Francis Drake's 
beinginthe South Sea; and what preparation was made to take hint. 
And how I, seeking to escape, was again taken, and put in prison 
at Vera Cruz ; and how again I made my escape from thence. 

Miles Phillips, and William Lowe were ap- 
pointed to the Black Friars ; where I was appointed 
to be an overseer of Indian workmen, who wrought 
there in building of a new church. Amongst which 
Indians, I learned their language or Mexican tongue very 
perfectly; and had great familiarity with many of them ; 
whom I found to be a courteous and loving kind of people, 
ingenious and of great understanding ; and they hate and 
abhor the Spaniards with all their hearts. They have used 
such horrible cruelties against them, and do still keep them 

292 Lutheran heretics reconciled or burnt. [^^- f^'l'X'; 

in such subjection and servitude that they, and the Negroes 
also, do daily lie in wait to practice their deliverance out of 
that thraldom and bondage that the Spaniards do keep them 
in. William Lowe was appointed to serve the cook in the 
kitchen ; Richard Williams and David Alexander were ap- 
pointed to the Grey Friars; John Story and Robert Cooke to 
the White Friars. Paul Horsewell, the Secretary [Pedro 
DE LA Rios] took to be his servant. Thomas Hull was 
sent to a Monastery of priests ; where, afterwards, he died. 

Thus we served out the years that we were condemned for, 
with the use of our fools' coats. And we must needs confess 
that the Friars did use us very courteously ; for every one of 
us had his chamber with bedding and diet, and all things 
clean and neat. Yea, many of the Spaniards and Friars them- 
selves do utterly abhor and mislike that cruel Inquisition ; 
and would, as they durst, bewail our miseries, and comfort 
us the best they could : although they stood in such fear of 
that devilish Inquisition, that they durst not let the left hand 
know what the right doeth. 

Now after that the time was expired, for which we were 
condemned to serve in those Religious Houses ; we were then 
brought again [in i^yS, in Phillip's case, see pp. 2g4, 298] before 
the Chief Inquisitor; and had all our fools' coats pulled off, and 
hanged up in the Head Church, called Ecclesia Majore ; and 
every man's name and judgement written thereupon, with 
this addition, An heretic Lutheran reconciled. And there are 
also all their coats hanged up which were condemned to the 
galleys, with their names and judgements, and under each 
coat. Heretic Lutheran reconciled. And also, the coats and 
names of the three that were burned ; whereupon was 
written, An obstinate heretic Lutheraii burnt. 

Then we were suffered to go up and down the country and 
to place ourselves as we could ; and yet not so free but that 
we very well knew that there was good espial always attend- 
ing us and all our actions : so that we durst not once to speak 
or look awry. 

David Alexander and Robert Cooke returned to serve 
the Inquisitor [Don Pedro Moya de Contreres] ; who, 
shortly after, married them both to two of his Negro women. 
Richard Williams married a rich widow of Biscay^ with 

M.PhiiHps.-j Phillips learns to make taffetas. 293 

4,000 pesos [=£800 = about ;^5,ooo now]. Paul Horse- 
well is married to a Mestizoa ; as they name those whose 
fathers were Spaniards, and their mothers Indians ; and this 
woman which Paul Horswell hath married is said to be the 
daughter of one that came in with Hernando Cortes the 
Conqueror. Who had with her, in marriage, 4,000 pesos 
[=-^8oo=;£"5,ooo now] and a fair house. John Story is 
married to a Negro woman. William Lowe had leave and 
license to go into Spain ; where he is now [? 1583] married. 

For mine own part, I could never thoroughly settle myself to 
marry in that country ; although many fair offers were made 
unto me, of such as were of great ability and wealth : but I 
could have no liking to live in that place where I must every- 
where see and know such horrible idolatry committed, and 
durst not once, for my life, speak against it ; and therefore I 
had always a longing and desire to this my native country. 
To return and serve again in the mines, where I might have 
gathered great riches and wealth ; I very w^ell saw that 
[thereby], at one time or another, I should fall again into the 
danger of that devilish Inquisition ; and so be stripped of all, 
with loss of life also. And therefore I made my choice rather 
to learn to weave grogranes [grograms] and taffetas. 

So, compounding with a Silk Weaver, I bound myself for 
three years to serve him ; and gave him 150 pesos [^£^0 
= about £250 now] to teach me the science ; otherwise he 
would not have taught me under a seven years' apprenticeship. 
And, by this means, I lived the more quiet and free from 

Howbeit, I should, many times, be charged by Familiars 
of that devilish House that " I had a meaning to run away 
into England, and to be a heretic Lutheran again ! " 

To whom, I would answer that " They had no need to 
suspect any such thing in me ; for that they all knew very 
well, that it was impossible for me to escape by any manner 
of means." 

Yet, notwithstanding, I was called before the Inquisitor, 
and demanded, *' Why I did not marry ? " 

I answered, " That I had bound myself at an occupation." 

" Well," said the Inquisitor, " I know thou meanest to run 
away ; and tlierefore I charge thee, here, upon pain of burning 
as a relapsed heretic, that thou depart not out of this city ! 

294 '■f'HE FRIGHT IN MeXICO, OF DrAKE. ^ ^^^ll 

nor come near to the port of San Juan de Ulua, nor to any 

other port." 

To the which, I answered "That I would wilHngly obey." 
" Yea," said he, *' see thou do so ! And thy fellows also, 

they shall have the like charge." 

So I remained at my science [trade] the full time [i.e., 
three years, 1578-1581], and learned the art.* 

At the end [or rather, in the midst of his apprenticeship , see 
p. 296] whereof, there came news to Mexico, that there 
were certain Englishmen landed, with a great power, at the 
port of Acapulco upon the South Sea ; and that they were 
coming to Mexico, to take the spoil thereof : which wrought 
a marvellous great fear amongst them ; and many of those 
that were rich, began to shift for themselves, their wives and 

Upon which hurly burly, the Viceroy caused a general 
Muster to be made of all the Spaniards in Mexico, and there 
were found to the number of 7,000 and odd householders of 
Spaniards in the city and suburbs ; and of single men, 
unmarried, the number of 3,000; and of Mestizos (which are 
counted to be the sons of Spaniards born of Indian women) 

Then were Paul Horsewell and I, Miles Phillips, 
sent for before the Viceroy ; and were examined ** If we did 
know an Englishman named Francis Drake, which was 
brother to Captain Hawkins ? " 

To which we answered, that ** Captain Hawkins had not 
any brother but one ; who was a man of the age of threescore 
years or thereabouts, and was now Governor of Plymouth in 
England " [p. 205]. 

And then he demanded of us, ** If we knew one Francis 
Drake ? " 

* Sir Francis Drake was at Acapulco in March, 1579: by which 
time, Phillips's sentence had expired, and he is apprenticed to the Silk 
Weaver ; therefore his sentence must have been for the three (not five 
years) 1575-1578. Then he served an apprenticeship of three years (1578- 
1581) ; and, apparently, afterwards, continued as a workman with his 
Master till he made his escape home in the Spanish Fleet of the autumn 
of 1582 ; finally reaching England in February, 1583, which was in the six- 
teenth year of his absence, of as. he roughly reckons it, at /. 306, after 
iixteen year^ absence. 

M.Phillips. J ^ ^y J LD GOOSE CHASE AFTER DrAKE. 295 

And we answered, *' No ! " [0/ course they knew him well ; 
hut denied it.] 

While these things were in doing, there came news that all 
the Englishmen were gone. Yet were there 800 men made 
out, under the leading of several Captains. Whereof 200 
were sent to the port of San Juan de Ulua upon the North Sea, 
under the conduct of Don Louis Suarez ; 200 were sent to 
Guatemala in the South Sea, who had for their Captain, 
Juan Cortes; 200 more were sent to Guatulco, a port of 
the South Sea, over whom went for Captain, Don Pedro de 
RoBLis; and 200 more were sent to Acapulco, the port where 
it was said Captain Drake had been, and they had for 
Captain, Doctor Roblis Alcade de Corte ; with whom I, 
Miles Phillips, went as Interpreter, having license given 
by the Inquisitors. 

When we were come to Acapulco [in May, 1579], we found 
that Captain Drake was departed from thence, more than a 
month before we came thither [i.e., in March, 1579]. 

But yet our Captain Alcade de Corte, there presently 
embarked himself, in a small ship of 60 tons or thereabouts, 
having also in company with him, two other small barks ; 
and not past 200 men in all. With whom, I went as Inter- 
preter in his own ship ; which, GOD knoweth ! was but weak 
and ill appointed ; so that, for certain, if we had met with 
Captain Drake, he might easily have taken us all. 

We being embarked, kept our course, and ran southward 
towards Panama, keeping still as nigh the shore as we could, 
and having the land upon our left hand. Having coasted 
thus, for the space of eighteen or twenty days ; and having 
reached more to the south than Guatemala ; we met, at last, 
with other ships which came from Panama. Of whom we 
were certainly informed that Captain Drake was clean gone 
off the coast, more than a month before. 

So we returned back to Acapulco again, and there landed : 
our Captain being forced thereunto : because his men were 
very sore sea sick. 

All the while that I was at sea with them, I was a glad 
man. For I hoped that if we met with Master Drake, we 
should all be taken : so that then I should have been freed 
out of that danger and misery wherein I lived ; and should 
return to my own country of Enijland again. But miBsmg 

296 "Drake cannot get out, he must starve !"['^^-j'''153; 

thereof, when I saw there was no remedy, but that we must 
needs come on land again. Little doth any man know the 
sorrow and grief that inwardly I felt ; although outwardly, I 
was constrained to make fair weather of it. 

And so, being landed, the next morrow after, we began our 
journey towards Mexico ; and passed these towns of name in 
our way. As first, the town of Tuantepec, 50 leagues from 
Mexico ; from thence, to Washaca, 40 leagues from Mexico ; 
from thence, to Tepiaca, 24 leagues from Mexico ; and from 
thence, to La Puebla de los Angelos, where is a high hill 
[volcano] which casteth out fire three times a day, which hill 
is 18 leagues in a manner directly west from Mexico. From 
thence, we went to Stapelapa, 8 leagues from Mexico ; and 
there, our Captain and most of his men took boat, and came 
to Mexico again [about July, 1579] : having been forth, about 
the space of seven weeks or thereabouts. 

Our Captain made report to the Viceroy, what he had done, 
and how far he had travelled ; and that he was informed for 
certain, that Captain Drake was not to be heard of. 

To which, the Viceroy replied and said, " Surely, we shall 
have him shortly come into our hands, driven aland through 
necessity, in some one place or other. For he being now in 
these Seas of the South, it is not possible for him to get out 
of them again. So that if he perish not at sea ; yet hunger 
will force him to land ! " 

And then again I was commanded by the Viceroy, that I 
should not depart the city of Mexico ; but always be at my 
Master's house [It is dear from this, that Phillips was still 
serving his time with the Silk Weaver] in a readiness at an 
hour's warning, whensoever I should be called for. 

That notwithstanding, within one month after [ ? nearly 
three years, i.e., in 1582], certain Spaniards going to Mecameca, 
18 leagues from Mexico, to send away certain hides and 
cochineal that they had there, at their Stantias or Dairy 
Houses ; and my Master having leave of the Secretary [i.e., 
to the Inquisition, Pedro de la Rios] for me to go with 
them, I took my journey with them, being very well horsed 
and appointed. Coming to Mecameca, and passing the time 
there certain days, till we had perfect intelligence that the 
Fleet was ready to depart ; I, not being past three days' 

^'' TTsfe] P ^^ I L L I P S ARRESTED BY MISTAKE. 297 

journey from the port of San Juan de Ulua, thought it 
to be the meetest time for me to make an escape. And 
I was the bolder, presuming upon my Spanish tongue, 
which I spake as naturally as any of them all, thinking with 
myself that when I came to San Juan de Ulua, I would get to 
be entertained as a soldier, and so go home into Spain by the 
same Fleet. 

Therefore, secretly, one evening late, the moon shining 
fair, I conveyed myself away : and riding so, for the space of 
two nights and two days, sometimes in [the road] and some- 
times out, resting very little all that time, upon the second 
day at night, I came to the town of Vera Cruz, distant from 
the port of San Juan de Ulua, where the ships rode but 
only five leagues : here purposing to rest myself a day or 

I was no sooner alighted, but, within the space of half an 
hour after, I was by ill hap arrested, and brought before the 
Justices there ; being taken and suspected to be a gentleman's 
son of Mexico, that was run away from his father : who, in 
truth, was the man they sought for. 

So I being arrested and brought before the Justices, there 
was a great hurly burly about the matter ; every man 
charging me, that I was the son of such a man, dwelling in 
Mexico : which I flatly denied, affirming that I knew not the 
man ; yet they would not believe me, but urged still upon me, 
that I was he that they sought for, and so I was conveyed 
away to prison. 

And as I was thus going to prison, to the further increase 
of my grief, it chanced that, at that very instant, there was a 
poor man in the press, that was come to town to sell hens ; 
who told the Justices that "They did me wrong; and that, in 
truth, he knew me very well, that I was an Englishman, and 
no Spaniard." 

They then demanded of him, " How he knew that ? " and 
threatened him that said so, for that he was my companion, 
and sought to convey me away from my father: so that he, 
also, was threatened to be laid in prison with me. 

He, for the discharge of himself, stood stiffly in it that " I 
was an Englishman ; and one of Captain Hawkins's men ; 
and that he had known me wear the San Bcnilo in the 

298 Kindness from a fellow prisoner, [^^•^'ife 

Black Friars at Mexico, for three or four whole years 

Which when they heard, they forsook him ; and began to 
examine me anew, " Whether that speech of his were true ? 
Yea or no ! " 

Which when they perceived, that I could not deny ; and 
perceiving that I was run from Mexico, and came thither of 
purpose to convey myself away with the Fleet ; I was pre- 
sently committed to prison, with a sorrowful heart, often 
wishing myself that that man which knew me, had at that 
time, been further off: howbeit he, in sincerity, had com- 
passion of my distressed state ; thinking by his speech and 
knowing of me, to have set me free from that present danger 
which he saw me in. Howbeit, contrary to his expectation, 
I was thereby brought into my extreme danger, and to the 
hazard of my life ; yet there was no remedy but patience, 

And I was no sooner brought into prison, but I had a great 
pair of bolts clapped on my legs ; and thus I remained in that 
prison, for the space of three weeks : where were also many 
other prisoners, which were thither committed for sundry 
crimes, and condemned to the galleys. 

During which time of imprisonment there, I found, amongst 
those my prison fellows, some that had known me before, in 
Mexico ; and truly they had compassion of me, and would 
spare of their victuals and anything else that they had, to do 
me good. 

Amongst whom, there was one of them, that told me, that 
he understood by a secret friend of his, which often came to 
the prison to him, that I should shortly be sent back again 
to Mexico by waggon ; so soon as the Fleet was gone from 
San Juan de Ulua for Spain. 

This poor man, my prison fellow, of himself and without 
any request made by me, caused his said friend, which often 
came to him to the grate of the prison, to bring him wine 
and victuals, to buy for him two knives, which had files in 
their backs, which files were so well made that they would 
serve and suffice any prisoner to file off his irons ; and of 
those knives or files, he brought me one, and told me that he 
had caused it to be made for me, and let me have it at the 
very price it cost him which was 2 pesos, the value of 8s. of 

"■^^S.] Phillips files away his irons. 299 

our money [ = about £i now]. Which knife, when I had it, I 
was a joyful man ; and conveyed the same into the foot of my 
boot, upon the inside of my left leg. 

So, within three or four days after I had thus received my 
knife, I was suddenly called for, and brought before the head 
Justice, which caused those my irons with the round bolt to 
be striken off, and sent to a smith's in the town ; where was 
a new pair of bolts made ready for me, of another fashion, 
which had a broad iron bar coming between the shackles : 
and caused my hands to be made fast with a pair of 

And so was I presently laid in a waggon, all alone, which 
was there ready to depart towards Mexico ; with sundry other 
waggons, to the number of sixty, all laden with sundry mer- 
chandise which came in the Fleet out of Spain. 

The waggon that I was in, was foremost of all the com- 
pany; and as we travelled, I, being alone in the waggon, 
began to try if I could pluck my hands out of the manacles : 
and, as GOD would ! although it were somewhat painful for 
me, yet my hands were so slender that I could pull them 
out, and put them in again ; and ever, as we went, when the 
waggons made most noise, and the men busiest, I would be 
working to file off my bolts. 

Travelling thus, for the space of eight leagues from Vera 
Cruz, we came to a high hill ; at the entering up of which, 
as GOD would! one of the wheels of the waggon wherein I 
was, brake ; so that, by that means, the other waggons went 
afore ; and the waggon man that had charge of me, set an 
Indian carpenter a work to mend the wheel. 

Here, at this place, they baited [fed] at a hostelry that 
a Negro woman keeps; and, at this place, for that the going 
up of the hill is very steep for the space of two leagues or 
better, they do always accustom to take the mules of three 
or four waggons, and to place them all together for the draw- 
ing up of one waggon ; and so to come down again, and fetch 
up others in that order. 

All which came very well to pass. For as it drew towards 
night, when most of the waggoners were gone to draw up 
their waggons in this sort, I, being alone, had quickly filed 
off my bolts. And so espying my time, in the dark of the 

300 Philips escapes away at last. ['^^' ^I'sss! 

evening, before they returned down the hill again, I conveyed 
myself into the woods there adjoining, carrying my bolts and 
manacles with me, and a few biscuits and two small cheeses. 

Being come into the woods, I threw my irons into a thick 
bush ; and then covered them with moss and other things : 
and then shifted for myself as I might, all that night. 

And thus, by the good providence of Almighty GOD, I 
was freed from mine irons, all saving the collar that was 
about my neck; and so got my liberty the second time. 


Wherein is shewed how I escaped to Guatemala upon the South 
Sea, and from thence, to the port of Cavallios, where I got passage 
to go into Spain. A nd of our arrival at the Havana ; and our 
coming into Spain ; where I was again like[ly] to have been com- 
mitted prisoner. And how, through the great mercy of GOD, I 
escaped ; and came home in safety, in February, 1582 [i.e. 1583]. 

He next morning, daylight being come, I perceived 
by the sun rising, what way to take to escape their 
hands ; for when I fled I took the way into the 
woods upon the left hand, and having left that way 
that went to Mexico upon my right hand, I thought to keep 
my course, as the woods and mountains lay, still direct south, 
as near as I could ; by means whereof, I was sure to convey 
myself far enough from that way that went to Mexico. 

And as I was thus going in the woods, I saw many great 
fires made to the north, not past a league from the mountain 
where I was. 

Travelling thus in my boots, with my iron collar about my 
neck, and my bread and cheese ; the very same forenoon, I 
met with a company of Indians, which were hunting deer for 
their sustenance : to whom I spake in the Mexican tongue, 
and told them how that I had, of a long time, been kept in 
prison by the cruel Spaniards, and did desire them to help 


me to file off mine iron collar; which they willingly did, 
rejoicing greatly with me, that I was thus escaped out of 
the Spaniards' hands. 

Then I desired that I might have one of them to guide me 
out of those desert mountains, towards the South ; which 
they also most willingly did : and so they brought me to an 
Indian town eight leagues distant from thence, named 
Shalapa [ ? now Jalapa] ; where I stayed three days, for 
that I was somewhat sickly. 

At which town, with the gold that I had quilted in my 
doublet, I bought me a horse of one of the Indians, which 
cost me 6 pesos [ = 3^1 4s.=about £gnow] ; and so, travelling 
South, within the space of two leagues, I happened to over- 
take a Grey Friar : one that I had been familiar withal in 
Mexico, whom then, I knew to be a zealous good man, and 
one that did much lament the cruelty used against us by 
the Inquisitors. And, truly, he used me very courteously. 

I, having confidence in him, did indeed tell him that I was 
moved to adventure to see if I could get out of the said 
country, if I could find shipping ; and did therefore pray of 
of him aid, direction, and advice herein : which he faithfully 
did, not only in directing me which was my safest way to 
travel ; but he also, of himself, kept me company for the 
space of three days, and ever as we came to the Indians' 
houses, who used and entertained us well, he gathered among 
them, in money, to the value of 20 pesos [=£^=£^2 now] ; 
which, at my departure from him, he freely gave unto 

So came I to the city of Guatemala, which is distant from 
Mexico, about 250 leagues; where I stayed six days, for that 
my horse was weak. 

From thence, I travelled, still south-and-by-east, seven 
days' journey, passing by certain Indian towns, until I 
came to an Indian town distant from Mexico, direct South, 
309 leagues. 

And here, at this town, inquiring to go to the port of 
Cavallios on the North-East Sea ; it was answered, that in 
travelling thither, I should not come to any town in ten or 
twelve days' journey. 

So here, I hired two Indians to be my guide, and I bought 
hens and bread to serve us so long a time ; and took with us 


things to kindle fire every night because of the wild beasts, 
and to dress our meat. Every night, when we rested, my 
Indian guides would make two great fires, between which, we 
placed ourselves and my horse ; and in the night time, we 
should hear the lions' [!] roars, with tigers [!], ounces, and other 
beasts ; and some of them we should see in the night, which 
had eyes shining like fire. 

And travelling thus for the space of twelve days, we came 
at last to the port of Cavallios, upon the East Sea; distant 
from Guatemala, south-and-by-east, 200 leagues ; and from 
Mexico, 450 or thereabouts. This is a good harbour for 
ships, and it is without either Castle or Bulwark. 

Having despatched away my guides, I went down to the 
haven, where I saw certain ships ladened chiefly with Canary 
wines ; where I spake with one of the Masters, who asked me, 
" What countryman I was ? " 

I told him that " I was born in Granada." 

And he said, "Then I was his countryman." 

I required him that " I might pass home with him, in his 
ship, paying for my passage." 

And he said, " Yea, so that 1 had a safe conduct or letter 
testimonial to shew, that he might incur no danger : for," 
said he, "it may be you have killed some man, or be indebted : 
and would therefore run away." 

To that, I answered, " There was not any such cause." 

Well, in the end, we grew to a price, that for 60 pesos 
[=£i2=about £100 now], he would carry me into Spain. 

A glad man was I at this good hap ! and I quickly sold my 
horse, and made my provision of hens and bread to serve me 
in my passage. 

And thus, within two days after, we set sail, and never 
stayed until we came to the Havana ; which is distant from 
the port of Cavallios, by sea, 500 leagues : where we found 
the whole Fleet of Spain, which was bound home from the 

And here, I was hired for a soldier, to serve in the 
Admiral's ship of the same Fleet, wherein the General 
himself went. 

There landed while I was there, four ships out of Spain, 
being all full of soldiers and ordnance, of which number, 

**™8l:] Spanish supplies for the W. I., in 1582. 303 

there were 200 men and four great brass pieces of ordnance ; 
although the Castle was before sufficiently provided. 200 
men more, and certain ordnance were sent to Campeche ; 200 
with ordnance to Florida ; and lastly 100 to San Juan de Ulua. 
As for ordnance there, they have sufficient, and of the very 
same which was ours, which we had in the Jesus; and those 
others which we had planted in the place where the Viceroy 
betrayed Master Hawkins, our General: as hath been declared. 
The sending of those soldiers to every of those ports, and 
the strengthening of them, was done by commandment from 
the King of Spain : who wrote also by them, to the General of 
his Fleet, giving him in charge so to do ; as also directing him 
what course he should keep in his coming home into Spain. 
Charging him, at anv hand, not to come nigh to the Isles 
of the Azores, but to keep his course more to the northward ; 
advertising him withal, what number and power of French and 
other Ships of War Don Antonio had, at that time, at 
Terceira and the Isles aforesaid; which the General of the 
Fleet well considering, and what great share of riches he had 
to bring home with him into Spain, did, in all, very dutifully 
observe and obey. For, in truth, he had in his said Fleet, 
2,7 Sail of ships : and in every of them, there was as good as 
30 pipes of silver, one with another ; besides great store of 
gold, cochineal, sugar, hides, and cana fistula, with Apothecary 

This, our General, who was called Don Pedro de Gusman, 
did providently take order for, for their most strength and 
defence, if need should be, to the uttermost of his power : 
and cornmanded, upon pain of death, that neither passenger 
nor soldiershould come aboard, without his sword and harque- 
buss, with shot and powder ; to the end that they might be the 
better able to encounter the fleet of Don Antonio, if they 
should hap to meet with them, or any of them. And ever as 
the weather was fair, the said General would himself go 
aboard from one ship to another ; and see that every man 
had his full provision, according to the commandment 

Yet, to speak truly what I think, two good tall Ships of 
War would have made a foul spoil amongst them. For, in 
all this Fleet, there were not any that were strong and war- 
like appointed; saving only the admiral and vice-admiral: 

304 Again discovered to be an Englishman ; [^'- ^^'f^'^; 

and again, over and besides the weakness and the ill furnish- 
ing of the rest, they were all so deeply laden, that they had 
not been able, if they had been charged, to have held out any 
long fight. 

Well, thus we set sail, and had a very ill passage home, 
the weather was so contrary. We kept our course in a 
manner north-east, and brought ourselves to the height of 
42° N. Lat., to be sure not to meet with Don Antonio his 
fleet : and were upon our voyage from the 4th of June until 
the loth of September [1582] ; and never saw land till we 
fell with the Arenas Gordas hard by San Lucar de Barra- 

And there was an order taken that none should go on shore 
until he had license. 

As for me, I was known by one in the ship ; who told the 
Master that I was an Englishman; which, as GOD would ! 
it was my good hap to hear; for if I had not heard it, it had 
cost me my life. Notwithstanding, I would not take any 
knowledge of it, and seemed to be merry and pleasant that 
we were all come so well in safety. 

Presently after, license came, that we should go on shore : 
and I pressed to be gone with the first. 

Howbeit, the Master came unto me, and said, " Sirrah ! 
you must go with me to Seville by water ! " I knew his 
meaning well enough ; and that he meant to offer me up as 
a sacrifice to the Holy House. For the ignorant zeal of a 
number of these superstitious Spaniards is such, that they 
think that they have done GOD good service, when they 
have brought a Lutheran heretic to the fire to be burnt. 
For so do they account of us. 

Well, I perceiving all this, took upon me not to suspect 
anything, but was still jocund and merry ; howbeit, I knew 
it stood upon me to shift for myself. So waiting my time, 
when the Master was asleep in his cabin, I conveyed myself 
secretly down by the shrouds into the ship's boat, and made 
no stay, but cutting the rope wherewith she was moored, and 
so by the cable hauled on shore ; where I leapt on land, and 
let the boat go whither it would. 

Thus, by the help of GOD, I escaped that day, and then . 
never stayed at San Lucar ; but went all night by the way 
which I had seen others take towards Seville. 

'^^ t^^Sj.] ^ut he again k. scapes, and keeps close. 305 

So that, the next morning, I came to Seville, and sought 
me out a work master, that I might fall to my science, which 
was the weaving of taffetas. And being entertained, I set 
myself close to my work, and durst not, for my life ! once 
stir abroad for fear of being known. 

Being thus at my work, within four days after, I heard one 
of my fellows say that he heard there was great inquiry made 
for an Englishman that came home in the Fleet. 

" What, an heretic Lutheran was it ! " quoth I ; " I would 
to GOD, I might know him ! Surely, I would present him to 
the Holy House ! " 

And thus I kept still within doors at my work ; and feigned 
myself not well at ease ; and that I would labour as I might 
to get me new clothes. And continuing thus for the space 
of three months, I called for my wages ; and bought me all 
things new, different from the apparel that I did wear at sea ; 
and yet durst not be overbold to walk abroad. 

And, after, understanding that there were certain English 
ships at San Lucar, bound for England; I took a boat, and 
went aboard one of them, and desired the Master that I might 
have passage with him to go into England ; and told him 
secretly, that I was one of those which Captain Hawkins did 
set on shore in the Indies. 

He very courteously prayed me to have him excused ; for 
he durst not meddle with me, and prayed me therefore to 
return from whence I came. 

Which when I perceived, with a sorrowful heart, GOD 
knoweth ! I took my leave of him ; not without watery 

And then, I went to Porto Santa Maria, which is three 
leagues from San Lucar; where I put myself to be a soldier 
in the King of Spain's Galleys, which were bound for 

Coming thither, in the end of the Christmas holidays [i.e.^ 
about the 6th January, 1583!, I found there, two English ships, 
the one of London, and the other of the West Country : 
which were ready freighted, and stayed but for a fair wind. 
To the Master of the one which was of the West Country, 
went I, and told him that " I had been two years in Spain, 
to learn the language ; and that I was now desirous to go 

£kq Gar. V. 20 

3o6 At length he reaches home, at Poole. [^*' ?'''|'^^. 

home, and see my friends, for that I lacked maintenance." 
So having agreed with him, for my passage, I took shippng. 
And thus, through the providence of Almighty GOD, after 
sixteen years' absence ; having sustained many and sundry 
great troubles and miseries, as by this Discourse appeareth : 
I came home to this, my native country of England, in the 
ship called the Landret, and arrived at Poole, in the month 
of February, in the year 1582 [t.e,f 1583]. 

[Third Ka^^Rative, by a n o t h e f( 


Travels of Job Hortop, an 

Englishman, who was not heard of, 
in three and twenty years' space. 

Wherein is declared the dangers 

he escaped in his Voyage to Guinea ; 

where, after he was set on shore, in a 

wilderness near to Panico [Tampico], 

he endured much slavery and 

bondage in the Spanish 


Wherein also he discourseth many strange and wonder- 
ful things seen in the time of his travels ; as well 
concerning wild and savage people, as also 
of sundry monstrous beasts, fishes, 
and fowls : and also trees of 
wonderful form and 


Printed for W i l l i a m Wright. 

[v Title and Dedication of the original tract only are here reprinted. The 
narrative itself is taken as rewritten in Hakluyt.] 


^ V ^ V V V V X' V V V V ^ ^ ^ w ^ ^ ^ ^ 
«i^^ /^^ tfl^n /9^A #1^^ #9^LA «>^^ A^^ r^^ #MA «3^A #1^A fl^^ 

*dS ^^ •T' •T" ^^ "^^ ^S •!■ ^K" "^^ •^' "^ ^* *X* •!• *T» "T* •!• "T* •T* 
Vi^«/ \a^B/ u^w \y>e« \3^e# \:^c# \y>c/ \3^i/ u^y# «2i^B# u^t/ vV^ \«T^ 4=^«# \:^w u^«# u 

To THE MOST High and Mighty Princess 


by the grace of GO D^ Blueen of 

Englandy France^ and Ireland^ 

Defendress of the Faith, &c. 

Your Highness's most humble subject, Job Hortop, 

heartily prayeth for a continuance of your Majesty's 

most prosperous reign. 

Most Gracious and Renowned Sovereign! 

EiNG, about three and twenty years' past, pressed 
forth to serve in a Gunner's room, for the Guinea 
Voyage, of which Sir John Hawkins was General ; 
such was our success, before his return into Eng- 
land [that] we were distressed through want of 
victuals, nor could we obtain any for money. By means 
whereof, many of us (though to our General's great grief), 
were constrained to be set on shore, in a land inhabited by 
none but Negroes [Indians] and wild people. 

Since which time, most dread Sovereign ! I have passed 
sundry perils in the wildernesses, and escaped many dangers ; 
wherein my life often stood in great hazard ; yet, by the 
Providence of GOD preserved. 

And being now come into my native country of England ; 

I do, in all humbleness, prostrate myself, together with this 

Discourse of my travels, at your Highness's feet! humbly 

beseeching Your Majesty to accept the same at your subject's 

hands, as our Saviour Christ accepted the widow's mite. 

And thus, I humbly take my leave ! praying 

for the prosperous reign of your 

most Excellent Majesty. 







^. JVv^vfi^ 








L!^*¥»^. i^.*§^T^ 


The Rare Travels of y o b H o r to p. 

[Opening of the original tract of 1591.] 

DISCOURSE, in large circumstances, the 
full scope of this my tedious travail would 
seem superfluous; and in omitting that 
which is most needful, I might commit 
great folly : wherefore, to avoid circum- 
stance, and yet to deliver matters of chiefest 
effect; I will, so near as I may, briefly, yet 
truly, run over the principal points, and 
particular substance of my travels, troubles, and dangers 
sustained since my departure, even until my return into 
England : which I am most joyful to see to stand in so happy 
and flourishing estate, which I pray GOD still to continue, 
to the world's end ! 

[Opening of the revised and better written text in Hakluyt. Voyages, 
Sr'c., iii. 487. Elf. 1600 : which has been adopted to the end.] 

Ot untruly, nor without cause, said Jon, the faith- 
ful servant of GOD, whom the Sacred Scriptures 
tell us to have dwelt in the land of Hus, that 
"Man, being born of a woman, living a short time, 
is replenished with many miseries" : which some 
know by reading of histories, many by the view of others' 
calamities, and I, by experience in myself; as this present 
ensuing Treatise shall shew. 

It is not unknown to many, that I, Job Hortop, Powder 
Maker, was born at Bourne, a town in Lincolnshire. 

3IO Francis Drake's first command. [i>;"°J'5°P: 

From my age of twelve years, I was brought at Redriffe 
[Radcliffe], near London, with Master Francis, who was the 
Queen's Majesty's Powder Maker : whom I served, until I 
was pressed [compelled] to go on the Third Voyage to the 
West Indies, with the Right Worshipful Sir John Hawkins; 
who appointed me to be one of the gunners in Her Majesty's 
Ship, called the Jestis of Lubeck. 

Who set sail from Plymouth, in the month of October, 1567, 
having with him, another Ship of Her Majesty's, called the 
Minion ; and four ships of his own, namely, the Angel, the 
Swallow, the Judith, and the William and John. He directed 
his Vice Admiral, that if foul weather did separate them, 
to meet at the island of Teneriffe. 

After which, by the space of seven days and seven nights, 
we had such storms at sea, that we lost our long boats and a 
pinnace ; with some men. 

Coming to the island of Teneriffe, there our General heard 
that his Vice Admiral, with the Swallow and the William and 
John, were at the island called Gomera ; where finding his 
Vice Admiral, he anchored, took in fresh water, and set sail 
for Cape Blanc. 

In the way, we took a Portuguese caravel, ladened with 

From thence, we sailed to Cape de Verde. 

In our course thither, we met a Frenchman of Rochelle, 
called Captain Bi^and ; who had taken a Portuguese caravel : 
whom our Vice Admiral chased and took. Captain Drake, 
now Sir Francis Drake, was made Master and Captain of 
the caravel.* 

So we kept our way, till we came to Cape de Verde ; and 
there we anchored, took our boats, and set soldiers on shore. 
Our General was the first that leapt on land ; and with him. 
Captain Dudley. 

There, we took certain Negroes ; but not without damage 
to ourselves ; for our General, Captain Dudley, and eight 
others of our company were hurt with poisoned arrows. 

'^'- This would appear to be Drake's first command. The Captain of 
the Judith, when she left England, is not stated. Apparently he died, 
and Drake was promoted from this caravel {i.e., the Grace of God, com- 
manded by the Frenchman, Captain Bland, at the fight, />. 318) to the 
Judith, in which he brought home the first news of the disaster, p. 207. 

kb°S] The way Negroes kill the hippopotami. 311 

About nine days after, the eight that were wounded, died. 

Our General was taught by a Negro, to draw the poison out 

of his wound, with a clove of garlic ; whereby he was cured. 

t rom thence we went to Sierra Leone, where be monstrous 

tishes, called sharks, which will devour men. 

I, amongst others was sent in the Angel, with two pinnaces, 
into the river, called Calousa, to seek two caravels that were 
there trading with the Negroes. We took one of them, with 
the Negroes, and brought them away. 

In this river, in the night time, we had one of our pinnaces 
bulged by a sea horse [hippopotamus]: so that our men 
swimming about the river, were all taken into the other 
pinnaces ; except two that took hold one of another and 
were carried away by the sea horse [or rather drowned]. 'This 
monster hath the just proportion of a horse, saving that his 
legs be short, his teeth very great and a span in length. He 
used, in the night, to go on land into the woods : seekinc^ at 
unawares, to devour the Negroes in their cabins ; whom thev 
by their vigilancy, prevent, and kill him in this manner. The 
Negroes keep watch, and diligently attend their coming; 
and when they are gone into the woods, they forthwith lav a 
great tree overthwart the way : so that, at their return, for 
that their legs be so short, they cannot go over it. Then 
the Negroes set upon them, with their bows, arrows, and 
darts ; and so destroy them. 

From thence, we entered the river called the Casseroes : 
where there were other caravels trading with the Negroes • 
and them we took. In this island betwixt the river aSd the 
main, trees grow with oysters upon them 

There grow Palmito trees, which be as high as a ship's 
mammast; and on their tops grow nuts, wine, and oil, 
which they call Palmito Wine and Palmito Oil. 
^ The Plantain tree also groweth in that country. The tree 
IS as big as a man's thigh, and as high as a fir pole. The 
leaves thereof be long and broad; and on the top grow the 
fruit which are called Plantains. They are crooked, and a 
cubit long and as big as a man's finger. They grow on 
clusters. When they be ripe, they be very good and dainty 
to eat : sugar is not more delicate in taste than they be 

From thence, with the Angel, the Judith, and the' two 
pinnaces, we sailed to Sierra Leone; where our General was 

312 Death OF Captain Dudley. [ieb!°i'59?: 

at that time ; who with the Captains and soldiers went up 
into the river called Taggarin, to take a town of the Negroes : 
where we found three Kings of that country, with 50,000 
Negroes, besieging the same town ; which they could not 
take, in many years before, when they had warred with it. 

Our General made a breach, entered, and valiantly took 
the town ; where were five Portuguese, which yielded them- 
selves to his mercy, and he saved their lives. 

We took, and carried from thence, for traffic in the West 
Indies, 500 Negroes. 

The three Kings drove 7,000 Negroes into the sea, at low 
water, at a point of land ; where they were all drowned in 
the ooze, for that they could not take their canoes to save 

We returned back again, in our pinnaces, to the ships, and 
there took in fresh water, and made ready to sail tov/ards 
Rio Grande, 

At our coming thither, we entered with the Angel, the 
Judith, and the two pinnaces ; and found there, seven Portu- 
guese caravels, which made great fight with us. In the end, 
by GOD's help, we won the victory, and drave them to the 
shore: from whence, with the Negroes, they fled; and we 
fetched the caravels from the shore into the river. 

The next morning. Master Francis Drake with his 
caravel, the Swallow, and the William and John, came into 
the river, with Captain Dudley and his soldiers: who landed, 
being but a hundred soldiers, and fought with 7,000 Negroes, 
burned the town, and returned to our General, with the loss 
of one man. 

In that place, there be many musk-cats, which breed in 
hollow trees. The Negroes take them in a net, put them in 
a cage, nourish them very daintily, and take the musk from 
them with a spoon. 

Now we directed our course from Guinea towards the 
West Indies. 

And by the way, died Captain Dudley. 

In sailing towards the Indies, the first land that we 
escried, was the island called Dominica : where, at our com- 
ing, we anchored ; and took in fresh water and wood for our 

{•eKg?.] C A p T u R E OF Rio de la Hacha. 313 

Which done, we sailed towards the island called Margarita ; 
where our General, in despite of the Spaniards, anchored, 
landed, and took in fresh victuals. 

A mile off the island, there is a rock in the sea, whereon do 
breed many fowls like unto Barnacles. In the night, we 
went out in our boats, and killed many of them with cudgels; 
and brought them, with many of their eggs aboard with us. 
Their eggs be as big as Turkey's eggs, and speckled like 
them. We did eat them, and found them very good meat. 

From thence, we sailed to Burboroata, which is in the 
main land of the West Indies [i.e., on the northern shore of 
South America]. There we came in, moored our ships, and 
tarried two months, trimming and dressing our ships : and, in 
the meantime, traded with certain Spaniards of that country. 

There, our General sent us unto a town, called Placencia, 
which stood on a high hill, to have intreated a Bishop that 
dwelt there, for his favour and friendship in their laws: who, 
hearing of our coming, for fear, forsook the town. 

In our way up the hill to Placencia, we found a monstrous 
venomous worm with two heads. His body was as big as a 
man's arm, and a yard long. Our Master, Robert Barret, 
did cut him in sunder, with his sword ; and it made it as 
black as if it were coloured with ink. 

Here be many tigers [!], monstrous and furious beasts, 
which, by subtlety, devour and destroy many men. They 
use the traded ways, and will shew themselves twice or 
thrice to the travellers; and so depart secretly, lurking till 
they be past : then, suddenly and at unawares, they leap 
upon them, and devour them. They had so used two of our 
company, had not one of them looked behind. 

Our General sent three ships unto the Island of Cura^oa 
to make provision for the rest ; where they remained until 
his coming. 

He sent from thence, the Angel and the Judith to Rio de la 
Hacha ; where we [Hortop apparently -was serving in the 
Angel at this time] anchored before the town. The Spaniards 
shot three pieces at us from the shore ; whom we requited 
with two of ours, and shot through the Governor's house. 
We weighed anchor, and anchored again without the shot 
of the town ; where we rode, five days, in despite of the 
Spaniards and their shot. 

314 The English fleet at Santa Mart a. [kJlTsg^: 

In the mean space, there came a Caravel of Advice 
[Despatch boat] from Santo Domingo; which, with the Angel 
and Judith, we chased and drove to the shore. We fetched 
him from thence, in spite of two hundred Spaniard harque- 
buss shot [i.e., harquebicssiers]; and anchored again before the 
town, and rode there with them till our General's coming: 
who anchored, landed his men, and valiantly took the town, 
with the loss of one man, whose name was Thomas Surgeon. 

We landed, and planted our field ordnance on the shore 
for our safety. We drove the Spaniards up into the country 
above two leagues ; whereby they were enforced to trade 
with our General, to whom he sold most part of his Negroes. 

In this river we killed a monstrous legarto or crocodile [or 
rather alligator], at sunset, in the port. Seven of us went in 
the pinnace up the river, carrying with us a dog, unto 
whom, with rope yarn, we bound a great hook of steel, 
with a chain that had a swivel, which we put under the 
dog's belly, the point of the hook coming over his back, fast 
bound as aforesaid. We put him overboard, and veered out 
our rope by little and little, rowing away with our boat. 

The legarto came and presently swallowed up the dog, 
then did we row hard till we had choked him. He plunged 
and made a wonderful stir in the water. We leapt on shore, 
and hauled on land. He was twenty-three feet by the rule, 
headed like a hog, in body like a serpent, full of scales as 
broad as a saucer, his tail long and full of knots as big as a 
" falcon shot." He had four legs ; his feet had long nails 
like unto a dragon. 

We opened him, flayed him, dried his skin, and stuffed it 
with straw, meaning to have brought it home, had not the 
ship been cast away. 

These monsters will carry away and devour both man 
and horse. 

From thence, we shaped our course to Santa Marta, 
where we landed, traded, and sold certain Negroes. 

There two of our number killed a monstrous adder, going 
towards his cave with a cony in his mouth. His body was 
as big as any man's thigh, and seven feet long. Upon his 
tail he had sixteen knots, every one as big as a great walnut, 
which, they sa}', do shew his age. His colour was green 

ieKfl Spanish brag, and English assurance. 315 

and yellow. They opened him and found two conies in his 

From thence we sailed to Cartagena, where we went 
in, moored our ships, and would have traded with them ; 
but they durst not for fear of the King. 

We brought up the Minion against the Castle, and shot at 
the Castle and town. 

Then we landed in an island, where they have many 
gardens ; where, in a cave, we found certain botijos of wine, 
which we brought away with us. In recompense whereof, our 
General commanded to be set on shore woollen and linen 
cloth, to the value thereof. 

From hence, by foul weather, we were forced to seek the 
port of San Juan de Ulua. 

In our way, thwart of [off] Campeche, we met with a 
Spaniard, a small ship, which was bound for Santo Domingo. 
It had in it a Spaniard called Augustine de Villa Neuva; 
who was the man that betrayed all the noblemen in the 
Indies, and caused them to be beheaded ; wherefore he, with 
two Friars, fled to Santo Domingo, We took and brought 
them with us into the port of San Juan de Ulua. Our 
General made great account of him, and used him like a 
Nobleman ; howbeit, in the end, he was one of them that 
betrayed us. 

When we had moored our ships, and landed [at San jfuan 
de Ulua] ; we mounted the ordnance that we found there in 
the Island ; and for our safety, kept watch and ward. 

The next day after, we discovered the Spanish Fleet ; 
whereof LugoN, a Spaniard, was General, With him came 
a Spaniard called Don Martin de Henrique^, whom the 
King of Spain sent to be his Viceroy of the Indies. 

He sent a pinnace with a flag of truce unto our General, 
to know, " Of what country those ships were, that rode there 
in the King of Spain's port ? " 

Who said, " They were the Queen of England's ships, 
which came in there for victuals for their money : wherefore 
if your General will come in here ! he shall give me victuals 
and other necessaries, and I will go out on the one side of the 
port, and he shall come in on the other side." 

3i6 Villa Neuva tries to stab Hawkins. [kb!°i5°9^: 

The Spaniard returned for answer, " He was a Viceroy, 
and had a thousand men, and therefore he would come in ! " 

Our General said, " If he be a Viceroy ; I represent my 
Queen's person ; and I am a Viceroy as well as he ! and if he 
have a thousand men, my powder and shot will take the 
better place ! " 

Then the Viceroy, after counsel among themselves, yielded 
to our General's demand, swearing " by his King and his 
crown, by his commission and authority that he had from his 
King, that he would perform it ! " and thereupon pledges 
were given on both parts. 

Our General, bearing a godly and Christian mind, void of 
fraud and deceit, judged the Spaniards to have done the like, 
delivered to them ten gentlemen ; not doubting to have 
received the like from them : but the faithless Spaniards, in 
costly apparel, gave of the basest of their company ; as after- 
wards it was well known. 

These things finished. Proclamation was made on both 
sides that "on pain of death, no occasion should be given, 
whereby any quarrel should grow to the breach of the 
league " : and then they peaceably entered the port, with 
great triumph on both sides. 

The Spaniards presently brought a great Hulk, a ship of 
600 [tons], and moored her by the side of the Minion; and 
they cut out ports in their other ships, planting their 
ordnance towards us. 

In the night, they filled the Hulk with men, to lay the 
Minion aboard, as the sequel did show ; which made our 
General doubtful of their dealings. Wherefore, for that he 
could speak the Spanish tongue, he sent Robert Barret 
aboard the Viceroy ['s ship], to know his meaning in those 
dealings. Who willed him and his company [i.e., his boat's 
crew] to come in to him ; whom he presently [instantly] com- 
manded to be set in the bilbows [irons]. 

And forthwith ; for a watchword among the false Spaniards, 
a cornet [trumpet] was sounded for the enterprising of their 
pretended [intended] treason, against our General : whom 
Augustine de Villa Neuva sitting at dinner [Hortop says, 
p. 317, the fight began at 10 a.m., which woiddbethe dinner hour 
at sea, but HAWKINS says at 8 a.m., at p. 23^] with him, should 

kb!Ts9?.] A Gunner's description of the Fight. 317 

then presently have killed with a poinado [dagger], which he 
had privily in his sleeve: which was espied and prevented by 
one John Chamberlayne, who took the poinado out of his 
sleeve. Our General hastily rose up, and commanded him 
to be put prisoner in the Steward's room, and to be kept 
with two men. 

The faithless Spaniards thinking all things had been 
finished to their desire, suddenly sounded a trumpet ; and 
therewith 300 Spaniards entered the Minion : whereat our 
General, with a loud and fierce voice called unto us, saying, 
" GOD and Saint George ! upon those traitorous villains, and 
rescue the Minion ! I trust in GOD, the day shall be ours ! " 

With that, the mariners and soldiers leaped out of the 
Jesus of Lubeck into the Minion, and beat out the Spaniards; 
and with a shot out of her [the Minion] fired the Spaniard's 
vice-admiral ; where the most part of 300 Spaniards were 
spoiled, and blown overboard, with powder. 

Their admiral also was on fire half an hour. 

We cut our cables, wound off our ships, and presently 
fought with them. They came upon us on every side, and 
continued the fight from ten o'clock until it was night. They 
killed all our men that were on shore in the island ; saving 
three [of whom HoRTOP was one, see p. 330] which by swim- 
ming got aboard the Jesus of Lubeck. They sank the 
General's ship called the Angel, and took the Swallow. The 
Spaniard's admiral had above threescore shot through her; 
and many of his men were spoiled. Four other of their 
ships were sunk. 

There were in that Fleet and that came from the shore to 
rescue them, 1,500 : we slew of them 540, as we were credibly 
informed by a Note that came to Mexico. 

In this fight, the Jesus of Lubeck had five shot through 
her mainmast, her foremast was struck in sunder under the 
hounds [the holes in the timber cheeks, through which the ropes 
hoist the sails] with a chain-shot ; and her hull was wonder- 
fully pierced with shot : therefore it was impossible to bring 
her away. 

They set two of their own ships on fire* intending therewith 

* It will be noticed that Hortop's account differs somewhat from the 
former ones ; and yet it may be harmonized. The fireships burnt neither 
the Minion, nor the Jesus ; the latter of which was taken by the Spaniards, 

3i8 Captain Bland fires the Grace of God. [J-e"".",?: 

to have burnt the Jesus of Lubeck; which we prevented by cut- 
ting our cables in the hawse, and winding off by our stern- 
fast. The Minion was forced to set sail and stand off from us, 
and come to an anchor without shot of the island. 

Our General courageously cheered up his soldiers and 
gunners, and called to Samuel his page, for a cup of beer; 
who brought it to him in a silver cup : and he drinking to all 
the men, willed " the gunners to stand by their ordnance 
lustily like men ! " He had no sooner set the cup out of his 
hand, but a demi-culverin shot struck away the cup and a 
cooper's plane that stood by the mainmast, and ran out on 
the other side of the ship ; which nothing dismayed our 
General, for he ceased not to encourage us, saying, " Fear 
nothing ! For GOD, who hath preserved me from this shot, 
will also deliver us from these traitors and villains ! " 

Then Captain Bland [apparently in command of the Grace 
of God] meaning to have turned out of port, had his main- 
mast struck overboard with a chain-shot, that came from the 
shore : wherefore he anchored, fired his ship, took his pinnace 
with all his men, and came aboard the Jesn,s of Lubeck to 
our General ; who said to him, ** He thought he would not 
have run away from him ! " 

He answered, " He was not minded to have run away 
from him ; but his intent \ix., previous to the loss of his main- 
mast] was to have turned up, and to have laid the weather- 
most ship of the Spanish fleet aboard, and fired his ship in 
hope therewith to have set on fire the Spanish fleet." 

He said, " If he had done so, he had done well ! " With this 
night came on. 

Our General [had] commanded the Minion, for safeguard of 
her masts, to be brought under the Jesus of Lubeck's lee. 

He willed Master Francis Drake to come in with the 
Judith, and to lay the Minion aboard, to take in men and 
other things needful ; and to go out. And so he did. [See 
p. 223, on Drake's alleged desertion of the Minion. His trying 
to get home by himself, crowded as the little Judith must have 
been, seems to have been the wisest thing he could do; though 
Hawkins, no doubt, thought it very hard.] 

At night, when the wind came off the shore, we [i.e., the 

in boats. His narrative is very important here as he was taken on 
board the yesus and therefore an eye witness,/. 330. 

Fe"°2] Hawkins's sorrowful leave taking. 319 

Minion] set sail, and went out in despite of the Spaniards 
and their shot ; where [the next day] we anchored with two 
anchors under an island : the wind being northerly, which was 
wonderfully dangerous, and we feared every hour to be driven 
with the lee shore. 

In the end, when the wind came larger, we weighed anchor 
and set sail, seeking the river of Panuco for water, whereof 
we had very little ; and victuals were so scarce that we were 
driven to eat hides, cats, rats, parrots, monkeys, and dogs. 

Wherefore our General was forced to divide his company 
into two parts : for there was a mutiny among them for want 
of victuals. And some said, " They had rather be on the 
shore to shift for themselves amongst the enemies, than to 
starve on shipboard." 

He asked them, "Who would go on shore, and who would 
tarry on shipboard?" Those that would go on shore, he 
willed to go on fore mast ; and those that would tarry, on 
'baft mast. Fourscore and sixteen of us were willing to 
depart [but 112 actually landed, see p. 275]. Our General gave 
unto every one of us six yards of Roane [woollen] cloth ; and 
money to them that demanded it. 

When we were landed, he came unto us ; where friendly 
embracing every one of us, he was greatly grieved that he 
was forced to leave us behind him. He counselled us " to 
serve GOD, and to love one another," and thus courteously 
he gave us a sorrowful tarewell ; and promised *'if GOD 
sent him safe home, he would do what he could, that so many 
of us as lived, should, by some means, be brought into Eng- 
land." And so he did.* 

Since my return into England, I have heard that many 
misliked that he left us so behind him, and brought away [16J 
Negroes. But the reason is this. For them, he might have 
had victuals or any other thing needful, if, by foul weather, 
he had been driven upon the [West Indian] islands ; which, 
for gold or silver, he could not have had. 

And thus our General departed to his ship, and we 
remained on land. Where, for our safeties, fearing the wild 
Indians that were about us, we kept watch all night. At 

* There is something splendid in the way that Hortop, perhaps the 
most unfortunate of all the survivors that reached England, exonerates 
and admires his General. 

320 Stripped by the C h i c ii e m i c s. [fcb!°S' 

sunrising, we marched on our way, three and three in a rank, 
until we came into a field under a grove ; where the Indians 
came upon us, asking us, " What people we were ? and how 
we came there ? " 

Two of our company, namely, Anthony Goddard and 
John Cornish, for that they could speak the Spanish tongue, 
went to them, and said, " We were Englishmen, that never 
came in that country before : and that we had fought with 
the Spaniards: and for that we lacked victuals, our General 
had set us on shore." 

They asked us, " Whither we intended to go ? " 

We said, "To Panuco." 

The captain of the Indians willed us to give unto them 
some of our clothes and shirts. 

Which we did. 

Then he bade us give them all. 

But we would not so do. Whereupon John Cornish was 
then slain with an arrow, which an Indian boy, that stood by 
the captain, shot at him ; whereupon he [the chief] struck the 
boy on the neck with his bow that he lay for dead, and willed 
us to follow him. 

Who brought us into a great field, where we found fresh 
water. He bade us sit down about the pond and drink ; and 
he, with his company, would go, in the mean space, to kill 
five or six deer, and bring them us. 

We tarried there till three o'clock, but they came not. 
There one of our company, whose name was John Cooke, 
with four others, departed from us into a grove to seek 
relief ; where presently they were taken by the Indians and 
stripped as naked as ever they were born ; and so returned. 

Then we divided ourselves into two parts ; half to 
Anthony Goddard, and the rest to James Collier : and 
thus severally we sought for Panuco. 

Anthony Goddard, with his company, bade us farewell. 
They passed a river, where the Indians robbed many of them 
of their clothes; and so passing on their way, came to a stony 
hill where they stayed. 

James Collier with his company, that day, passed the 
same river, and were also robbed, and one of them slain by 

We came that night, unto the hill where Anthony 

Fe^TJg^:] From T a m p i c o to Mexico. 321 

GoDDARD and his company rested. There we remained till 
morning. Then we marched, all together, from thence, enter- 
ing between two groves, where the Indians robbed us of all 
our clothes, and left us naked. They hurt many, and killed 
eight of us. 

Three days after, we came to another river. There, the 
Indians showed us the way to Panuco, and so left us. 

We passed the river into the wilderness, where we made 
wreaths of green grass ; which we wound about our bodies to 
keep us from the sun and gnats [mosquitoes] of that country. 

We travelled there seven days and seven nights before we 
came to Panuco, feed on nothing but roots and guavas, a 
fruit like figs. 

At our coming to the river of Panuco, two Spanish horse- 
men came over unto us in a canoe. 

They asked us, " How long we had been in the wilderness, 
and where our General was ? " for they knew us to be of the 
company that had fought with their countrymen. 

We told them, " Seven days and seven nights; and for lack 
of victuals, our General set us on shore : and he was gone 
away with his ships." 

They returned to their Governor, who sent them with five 
canoes to bring us all over. 

Which done, they set us in array; where a hundred horse- 
men with their lances came forcibly upon us ; but they did 
not hurt us. 

They carried us prisoners to Panuco [or rather Tampico, tJic 
town near the river Panuco], where we remained one night. 

In the river of Panuco, there is a fish like a calf. The 
Spaniards call it a Mallatin. He hath a stone in his head, 
which the Indians use for the disease of the colick. In the 
night he cometh on land, and eateth grass. I have eaten 
of it, and it eateth not much unlike to bacon. 

From thence, we were sent to Mexico, which is ninety 
leagues from Panuco. 

In our way thither, twenty leagues from the seaside, I did 
see white crabs running up and down the sands. I have 
eaten of them, and they be very good meat. 

There groweth a fruit which the Spaniards call Avocottes. 
It is proportioned like an egg, and as black as a coal, having 
a stone in it : and it is an excellent good fruit. 

Eng. Car. V. 21 

322 Kind treatment at Mexico. [-FeuTs'gl'; 

There also groweth a strange tree, which they call Magueis 
[Agave]. It serveth them to many uses. Below, by the 
root, they make a hole, whereat they do take out of it, 
twice ever}^ day, a certain kind of liquor, which they seeth in 
a great kettle till the third part of it be consumed, and that 
it wax thick. It is as sweet as any honey, and they do eat it. 
Within twenty days after that they have taken all the liquor 
from it, it withereth, and they cut it down and use it as we 
use our hemp here in England. Which done, they convert 
it to many uses. Of some part, they make mantles, ropes 
and thread ; of the ends, they make needles to sew their 
saddles, panels [cloths], and other furniture for their horses; 
of the rest, they make tiles to cover their houses ; and they 
put it to many other purposes. 

And thus we came to Mexico, which is seven or eight 
miles [round] about, seated in a great fen, environed with 
four hills. It hath but two ways of entrance ; and is full of 
creeks, in the which, in their canoes, they pass from place 
to place and to the islands there within. 

In the Indies, ordinarily three times a year, be wonderful 
earthquakes, which put the people in great fear and danger. 
During the time of two years that I was in Mexico, I saw 
them six times. When they come, they throw down trees, 
houses, and churches. 

There is a city, twenty-five leagues from Mexico, called 
Tlaxcallan, which is inhabited with a 100,000 Indians. They 
go in white shirts, linen breeches, and long mantles ; and the 
women wear about them a garment much like unto a flannel 

The King's Palace was the first place that we were 
brought unto in Mexico ; where, without [on the outside 0/ 
ic'hich], we were willed to sit down. 

Much people, men, women, and children, came wondering 
about us. Many lamented our misery. 

Some of their clergy asked us, " If we were Christians ? " 
We said, "We praised GOD, we were as good Christians as 
they ! " 

They asked, " How they might know that ? " 

We said, " By our confessions." 

kkTsv^:] English beat their masters at Tcsclxo. 323 

From thence, we were carried in a canoe to a tanner's 
house, which standeth a Httle from the city. 

The next morning, two friars and two priests came thither 
to us, and willed us " to hless ourselves^ and say our 
prayers in the Latin tongue, that they might understand us." 
Many of our company did so» 

Whereupon, they returned to the Viceroy, and told him 
that " We were good Christians ! and that they liked us well " 

Then they brought us much relief, with clothes. Our 
sick men were sent to their hospitals; where many were 
cured, and many died* 

From the tanner's house, we were led to a gentleman's 
place ; where, upon pain of death, we were chafged to abide^ 
and not to come into the city. Thither, we had all things 
necessary brought us. On Sundays and holidays, much 
people came, and brought us great reliefi 

The Viceroy practised [endeavoured] to hallg Us, arid 
caused a pair of new gallows to be set up> to have executed 
us ; whereunto the noblemen of the country would not 
consent, but prayed him to stay until the Ship of Advice 
brought news from the King of Spain, what should be done 
with us: for they said, " They could not find anything by usj 
whereby they might lawfully put us to death." 

The Viceroy then commanded us to be sent to an island 
thereby, and he sent for the Bishop of Mexico : who sent 
four priests to the island to examine and confess us; who 
said, " The Viceroy would [wished to] burn us*" 

When we were examined and confeseed, according to the 
laws of the country ; they returned to the Bishop, and told 
him that "We were very good Christians!'* The Bishop 
certified the Viceroy of our examinations and confessions ; 
and said that "We were good Christians I therefore he 
would not meddle with us.'* 

Then the Viceroy sent for our Master [i.e.^ of ihc Jesus], 
R. Barret; whom he kept prisoner in his Palace until the 
Fleet was departed for Spain. The rest of us he sent to a 
town seven leagues from Mexico, called Tescuco, to card 
wool among the Indian slaves : which drudgery we disdained, 
and concluded to beat our masters ; and so we did. Where- 
fore they sent to the Viceroy, desiring him "for GOD's sake 

324 Service in the Spanish iiome\vard fleet. [{--^{J^^'j^p; 

and our Lady's ! to send for us ; for they would not keep us 
any longer." They said that " We were devils, and no men." 
The Viceroy sent for us, and imprisoned us in a house in 
Mexico. From thence, he sent Anthony Goddard and 
some others of our company with him, into Spain ; with 
LucoN, the General [i.e., Admiral] that took us [fought us at 
San Juan de Ulna]. 

The rest of [htdk of] us [i.e., the six men and the boy named on 
the next page. For the English captives that remained behind, 
see p. 284] stayed in Mexico two years after; and then were 
sent prisoners into Spain, with Don Juan de Velasco de 
Vare, Admiral and General of the Spanish Fleet. 

He carried with him, in his ship, to be presented to the 
King of Spain, the anatomy [skeleton] of a giant which was sent 
from China, to the Viceroy Don Martin Henriquez at 
Mexico, to be sent to the King of Spain. It did appear by 
the anatomy, that he was of a monstrous size. The skull of 
his head was near[ly] as big as half a bushel. His neck 
bones, shoulder plates, arm bones, and all other lineaments 
of his other parts were huge and monstrous to behold. The 
shank of his leg, from the ankle to the knee, was as long as from 
any man's ankle up to his waist; and of bigness accordingly. 

At this time, and in this ship, were also sent two chests 
full of earth with ginger growing in them ; which were also 
sent from China, to be sent to the King of Spain. The ginger 
runneth in the ground like liquorice. The blades grow out of 
it in length and proportion like unto the blades of wild garlic ; 
which they cut every fifteen days. They use [are accustomed] to 
water them twice a day, as we do our herbs here in England. 

They put the blades in their pottage, and use them in their 
other meats ; wdiose excellent savour and taste is very 
delightful, and procureth a good appetite. 

When [in 1570] we were shipped in the Port of San 
Juan de Ulua, the General called our Master, Robert 
Barret, and us with him, into his cabin, and asked us, " If we 
would fight against Englishmen, if we met them at the sea ? " 

We said, " We would not fight against our Crown ; but if 
we met with any others, we would do what we were able." 

He said, " If we had said otherwise, he would not have 

feKgy HoRTOP AND Barret save the Fleet. 325 

believed us! and for that, we should be the better used and 
have allowance as other men had." And he gave a charge 
to every one of us, according unto our knowledge. Robert 
bARRET was placed with the Pilot ; I was put in \he Gunner's 
room [i.e., tn the office of a Gunner] ; William Cawse with 
the Boatswain, John Beare with the Quarter Masters 
LD^vARD Rider and Geoffrey Giles with the ordinary 
Mariners, Richard the Master's boy, attended on him and 
the Pilot. 

Shortly after, we departed from the port of San Tuan 
de Ulua, with all the Fleet of Spain, for the port called 
Havana, We were twenty-six days sailing thither. 

There we came in, anchored, took in fresh water, and 
stayed sixteen days for the Fleet of Nombre de Dios • which 
is the Fleet that brings the treasure from Peru. The General 
[Admiral] of that Fleet was called Diego Flores de Valdez. 

After his coming, when he had watered his ships, both the 
Meets joined in one : and Don Juande Velasco de Varre 
was, for the first fifteen days, General of both the Fleets 

Turning through the Channel of Bahama, his Pilot had 
like to have cast away all the Fleet upon the Cape, called 
Canaveral [on the West coast of Florida] : which was prevented 
by me. Job Hortop, and our Master, Robert Barret. 

For I, being in the second watch, escried land; and called 
to Robert Barret, bidding him " to look overboard ' for I 
saw land under the lee bow of the ship." He called to the 
Boatswain, and bid him let fly the foresail sheet, and lay the 
helm upon the lee, and cast the ship about. 

When we were cast about, we were but in seven fathom 
water We shot off a piece, giving advice to the Fleet ta 
cast about [tack] : and so they did. 

^ For this, we were beloved of the General, and all the 
Fleet The General was in a great rage, and swore, by the 
King ! that he would hang his Pilot. I'or he said that " twice 
before, he had almost cast away the admiral [fla^qship\" 

When it was day, he commanded a piece to be shot' off to 
call to Council. The other Admiral in his ship came up to 
him, and asked, " What the matter was? " 

He said, "His Pilot had cast away his ship and all the 

326 The English plan to escape, at Terceira. [{-.""".'j',)?; 

Fleet, had it not been for two of the Englishmen ; and there- 
fore he would hang him ! " 

The other Admiral, with many fair words, persuaded him 
to the contrary. 

W^ien we came in the height [latitude] of Bermuda, we 
discovered a monster in the sea, who shewed himself three 
limes unto us, from the middle upwards; in which parts he 
was proportioned like a man, of the complexion of a Mulatto 
or tawny Indian, The General did command one of his 
clerks to put it \v\ writing ; and he certified the King and his 
nobles thereof. 

Presently after this, for the space of sixteen days, we had 
wonderful ;ly] foul weather: and then GOD sent us a fair 
wind, until such time, as we discovered the island called 

On St. James's day (25//^ July), we made rockets, wheels, 
and other fireworks, to make pastime that night, as it is the 
order of the Spaniards, 

When we came near the land, our Master, Robert 
Barret, conferred with us to take the pinnace one night, 
when we came near the island caUed Terceira, to free our- 
selves from the danger and bondage that we were going into : 
whereunto we agreed. |<[one had any pinnace astern then, 
but our ship 5 which gave great courage to our enterprise. 
We prepared a bag of bread and a botijo [jar] of water, 
which would have served us nine days; and provided our- 
selves to go. 

Our Master borrowed a small compass of the Master 
Gunner of the ship, who lent it him ; but suspected his 
intent, and closely [seartly] made the General privy to it : 
who, for a timCi dissembled the matter. 

In the end, seeing our pretense [design]i he called Robert 
Barret, commanding his head to be put in the stocks, and 
a great pair of iron bolts on his legs : and the rest of us to 
be put in the stocks by the legs. 

Then he willed a piece to be shot off and he sent the 
pinnace for the other Admiral and all the Captains, Masters, 
and Pilots of both Fleets to come aboard of him. He com- 
manded the mainyard to be struck down ; and to put two 
puUies, on every yard arm one. The hangman was called, 

t^Ki:] Detected, tiiey are imprisoned at Seville. 327 

and we were willed to confess ourselves : for he swore, " by 
the King ! that he would hang us." 

When the other Admiral and the rest were come aboard, 
he called them into his Council chamber ; and told them that 
" he would hang the Master of the Englishmen and all his 

The Admiral, whose name was Diego Floresde Valdez, 
asked him, " Wherefore ? " 

He said, "We had determined to rise in the night with 
the pinnace, and with a ball of hre work, to set the ship on 
fire, and go our ways. Therefore," said he, " I will have you, 
the Captains, Masters, and Pilots to set vour hands unto that ; 
for I swear, by the King ! that I will hang them ! " 

Diego Flores de Valdez answered, " Neither I, nor the 
Captains, Masters, and Pilots will set our hands to that ! " 
for, he said, if he had been prisoner as we were, he would 
have done the like himself. He counselled him to keep us 
fast in prison till he came into Spain ; and then send us to 
the Contrataction House in Seville : where, if we had 
deserved death, the law would pass on us. For he would 
not have it said that in such a Fleet as that was, six men 
and a boy should take the pinnace, and go away. 

And so he returned to his ship again. 

When he was gone, the General came to the mainmast to 
us, and swore, " by the King ! that we should not come out of 
the stocks till we came into Spain." 

Within sixteen days after [i.e., in August, 1570], we came 
over the bars of San Lucar de Barrameda ; and came 
up to the Hurcados. Then he put us into a pinnace, stillj 
in the stocks ; and sent us prisoners to the Contrataction 
House in Seville. 

From thence, after one year [i.e., in 1571], we brake 
prison ; on St. Stephen's day [26 December, 1571J, at night. 
Seven of our [then English] company escaped. 

Robert Barret, I, Job Hortop, John Emerie, Hum- 
phry Roberts, and John Gilbert were taken, and brought 
back to the Contrataction House; where we remained in the 
stocks till Twelftide [6 January, 1572J was passed. Then our 
Keeper put up a petition to the Judge of the Contrataction 
House, that we "might Lc sent to the Great Prison House 
m Seville ; for that we had broken prison 1" 

32S R. Barret and J. Gilbert burnt in 1573. [l^JJ,"'],'^^,: 

Whereupon we were presently led thither, where we re- 
mained one month [till February, 1572] ; and then, from thence 
to the Castle of the Inquisition House in Triana, where we 
continued one year [till about February, 1573]. 

Which expired, they brought us out in procession, every 
one of us having a candle in his hand, and a coat with St. 
Andrew's Cross on our backs. 

They brought us up on a high scaffold, that was set up in 
the Place of St. Francis, which is in the chief street of Seville. 
There, they set us down on benches, every one in his degree : 
and against us, on another scaffold, sat all the Judges and 
the Clergy on their benches. 

The people wondered, and gazed on us : some pitying our 
cases ; others said, " Burn those heretics ! " 

When we had sat there two hours, we had a sermon made 
to us. 

After which, one, called Bresinia, Secretary to the Inqui- 
sition, went up into the pulpit, with the process : and called 
Robert Barret and John Gilbert, whom two familiars 
of the Inquisition brought from the scaffold before the Judges ; 
where the Secretary read the sentence, "which was that they 
should be burnt 1 " And so they were returned to the scaffold, 
and were burnt. 

Then I, Job Hortop, and John Bone were called, and 
brought to the place, as before : where we heard our sentence, 
which was that we should go to the galleys and there row at 
the oar's end, ten years : and then to be brought back to the 
Inquisition House, to have the coat with St. Andrew's Cro s 
put on our backs ; and from thence, to go to the everlasting 
prison remediless. And so we were returned to the scaffold, 
from whence we came. 

Thomas Marks and Thomas Ellis were called, and had 
sentence to serve in the galleys eight years; and Humphry 
Roberts and John Emerie, to serve five years : and so were 
returned to the benches on the scaffold, where we sat till 
four o'clock in the afternoon. 

Then we were led again to the Inquisition House, from 
whence we were brought. 

The next day, in the morning, Bresinia the Treasurer 
came thither to us; and delivered to every one of us his sen- 
tence in writing. 


I, with the rest, were sent to the galleys, where we were 
chained four and four together. Every man's daily allowance 
was twenty-six ounces of coarse black biscuit and water. 
Our clothing for the whole year, two shirts, two pair of 
breeches of coarse canvas, a red coat of coarse cloth soon on 
and soon off, and a gown of hair with a friar's hood. Our 
lodging was on the bare boards and banks of the galleys. 
Our heads and beards were shaven every month. 

Hunger, thirst, cold, and stripes, we lacked none ! till our 
several times expired. 

After the time of twelve years [1573-1585] (for I served 
two years above my sentence) I was sent back to the Inqui- 
sition House in Seville : and there, having put on the coat 
with St. Andrew's Cross, I was sent to the everlasting prison 
remediless ; where I wore the coat four years [1585-1589]. 

Then, upon great suit, I had it taken off for 50 ducats 
(=;ri3 i^s.=about £80 now); which Hernando de Soria, 
Treasurer of the King's Mint, lent me. 

Whom I [engaged to serve] as a drudge seven years, and 
served for it until the month of October last, 1590. [HoRTOP, 
however, only served a short two years, 1589-1590.] 

Then, I came from Seville to San Lucar de Barameda : 
where I made means to come away in a Flyboat that was 
ladened with wines and salt, which were Fleming's goods ; 
the King of Spain's subjects dwelling in Seville, married to 
Spanish ^^omen, and sworn to their King. 

In this month of October last, departing from San Lucar, 
at sea, off the southernmost Cape [C, St. Vincent], we met 
an English ship called the Galleon Dudley ; which took the 
Fleming, and me out of it : and brought me to Portsmouth, 
where they set me on land, the 2nd day of December last 
past, 1590. 

From thence, I was sent by Master MuNS, the Lieutenant 
of Portsmouth, with letters to the Right Honourable the 
Earl of Sussex; who commanded his Secretary to take my 
name and examination, how long I had been out of England, 
and with whom I went ; which he did. 

And on Christmas Even \2\ December, 1590], I took my 
leave of his Honour, and came to Redriffe [Ratclifje]. 

330 A Summary OF sufferings and perils.[^-^^°[5°p; 

The Computation of my Imprisonment. 

I suffered imprisonment in Mexico, two years [1568-1570] ; 
in the Contrataction House in Seville, one year 
[1571]; in the Inquisition House, in Triana, one 
year [1572]. 

I was in the galleys, twelve 5'ears [1573-1585] ; in the 
everlasting prison remediless, with the coat with 
St. Andrew's Cross, on my back, four years 

And, at liberty, I served as a drudge, Hernando de Soria, 
three years [1589-1590]. 

Which is the full complement of twenty-three years.* 

Since my departure from England, until this time of my 
return ; I was five times in great danger of death, besides 
the many perils I was in, in the galleys. 

First, in the port of San Juan de Ulua; where I was on 
shore \i.e., on the little island] with many others of our 
company : which were all slain, saving I and two others, 
that by swimming got aboard the Jesus of Lubeck [see 

P- 317]- 
Secondly, when we were robbed by the wild Indians. 

Thirdly, after we came to Mexico, the Viceroy would 

have hanged us. 
Fourthly, because he could not have his mind to hang us; 

he would have burnt us. 
Fifthly, the General that brought us into Spain, would have 

hanged us at sea. 

Thus having truly set down unto you, my travels, misery 
and dangers endured the space of twenty-three years, I end. 

■*= The exact time from the landing near Tampico, on 8th October, 
1568, to HoRTOP's landing at Poitsmouthj on 2nd December, 1590, was 
a little over Twenty-two years. 


V. — Sir John Hawkin3'3 pretented treach- 

the knowledqe and under the ?anctiojm of 
Queen ^Jli^abeth ajhd J^ord Burleiqh, 

Sir John Hawkins. 

Letter of 13M May^ iS7^y ^^ Lord 

B u R G II L E y^ to arra?tge for F i tz- 

WILLIAMS to have access to 

the ^^een of Scots, 

IStftie Papen^ Scotland. MARY, Queen a/ Scots. Vai. 6. iV<7. 6l.l 

Our good Lordship may be advertised, that 
FiTZWiLLiAMs hath been in the country to 
deliver his tokens, and to have had some 
speech with the Queen of Scots; which, 
by no means, he could obtain. Whereupon, 
he hath devised with me, that I should 
make some means to obtain him license to 

have access unto her, for her letter to the 

King of Spain, for the better obtaining of our men's liberty: 
which, otherwise, are not to be released; which device I 
promised him I would follow. 

And if it shall seem good unto your Lordship, he may be 
recommended by such credit as to your Lordship shall seem 
best : for, unless she be first spoken with, and answer from 
her sent into Spain, the credit for the treasure cannot be 

If your Lordship think meet that Fitzwilliams shall be 
recommended to speak with her ; if I may know by what 
sort your Lordship will appoint, there shall [bej all diligence 

332 Text by Queen of Scots in a breviary, l^'"" JjunTi's"!'. 

for his despatch used. And hereof I most humbly pray your 

good Lordship's speedy resolution. 
And thus I rest (13th of May, 1571), 
Your Good Lordship's most humbly to command, 

John Hawkins 


To the Right Honourable Lord Burghley ; give these ! 

John Hawkins. 

Letter of the qth June^ '^Sl'^j ^^ Lord 

Burghley^ desiring that Fitz^ 

WILLIAMS may have license 

to go to Spain, 

[State Papers. Scotland. MARY, Queen of Scots. Vol.6. iVc). 73.] 

Our good Lordship may be advertised that FiTZ- 

WILLTAMS is returned, and hath letters from 

the Queen of Scots to the King of Spain ; 

which are enclosed with others in a packet directed 

unto your Lordship. 

He hath also a book of gold (sent from her, to the Duchess 

of Feria) with the Old Service in Latin ; and in the end hath 

written this word, with her own hand, Absit nobis gloriari, nisi 

in cnice Domini nostri, Jesu Christi. Marie R, 

I would have brought your Lordship the packet myself; 
but he would deliver it himself; and requireth to have from 
me a speedy despatch for his departure into Spain : the 
which I would gladly your Lordship would determine. 

And if the course which I have begun shall be thought 
good by Her Majesty, that I shall proceed [in] ; there is no 
doubt but three commodities will follow, that is : 

1. First, the practices of the enemies will be daily more 
and more discovered. 

2. There will be credit gotten hither for a good sum of 

3. Thirdly, the same money, as the time shall bring 
forth cause, shall be employed to their own detriment : 

S''-J-yy^''^"'^^^-^;]ANTicirATioxs OF THE Spaxisii Armada. 2,33 

and what ships there shall be appointed (as fhcy shall 
suppose to serve their turn), may do some notable ex- 
ploit, to their great damage. 
I most humbly pray your Lordship to carry this matter, so 
as FiTzwiLLiAMS may not have me in suspicion ; and as 
speedy a determination for his despatch as conveniently maybe. 
And so [I] leave to trouble your good lordship any further. 
The 7th of June, 1571. 

Your good Lordship's most humbly to command, 

John Hawkins. 

A(ld?rsscd — 

To the Right Honourable Lord Burghley, give this ! 

John Hawkins, 

Letter of the \th September^ ^57^y 

annoimcmg the success of the 


[State Papers. Domestic Scries. ELIZABETH. Vol. 81. No. 7. 


fT MAY please your Honour to be advertised, that 
FiTZWiLLiAMS is returned from the Court of 
Spain ; where his message was acceptably re- 
ceived, both by the King himself, the Duke of 
Feria, and others of his Privy Council. 
His despatch and answer were with great expedition ; and 
with great countenance and favour of the King [i.e. , Phillip 
II. jimipcd at the idea of HAWKINS' s treachery]. 

The Articles are sent to the Ambassador [i.e., of Spain in 
Enf^la7id, Don Gerreau Despes], with order also for money 
to be paid me by him, for the enterprise to proceed with all 

Their pretence [design] is, that my power should jom with 
the Duke of Alva's power, which he doth secretly provide m 
Flanders, as well as with the power which cometh with the 
Duke of Medina out of Spain : and so, all together to invade 
this realm, and set up the Queen of Scots. 

334 GOD DELIVER ME FROM THE TITLES ! &C. [""^'^^sS"';'!"!'. 

They have practised with us for the burning of Her 
Majesty's ships ; therefore there would be some good care 
had of them : but not as it may appear that anything is 
discovered, as your Lordship's consideration can well provide. 

The King hath sent a ruby of good price to the Queen 
of Scots, with letters also ; which, in my judgement, were 
good to be delivered* The letters be of no importance : but 
his message by Word is to comfort her, and say that " He 
hath now none other care, than to place her in her own." 

It were good also that the Ambassador did make request 
unto your Lordship that FitzwilLiams may have access to 
the Queen of Scots, to render" thanks foi" the delivery of our 
prisoners [i.e., of such of Hawkins's Third Voyage men, as had 
been sent to Spain by this iime, jfidys 1571, and l0ere Hot in the 
Inquisition, see p. 327], which are now at liberty. It will be a 
very good colour [pretence] for your Lordship to confer with 
him [i.e., Fitzwilliam] more largely. 

I have sent your Lordship the [oy rather a] copy of my 
Pardon from the King of Spain, in the Very order and manner 
I have it. The Duke of Medina, and the Duke of Alva hath, 
every of them, one of the same Pardons more amplified, to 
present to me ; although this be large enough ! with very 
great titles and honours from the King i from which, may 
GOD deliver me ! 

I send your Lordship also the copy of my letter from the 
Duke of FerIA, in the very manner as it was written ; with 
his wife's and son's hands in the end. 

Their practices be very mischievous; and they be never 
idle ; but GOD, I hope, will confound them ! and turn their 
devices upon their own necks ! 

I will put my business in some order, and give mine at- 
tendance Upon Her Majesty, to do her that service that, by 
your Lordship, shall bethought most convenient in this case. 

I am not tedious with your Lordship, because Fitz- 
WTLLIAMS Cometh himself; and I mind not to be long after 
him ! and thus I trouble your good Lordship no further. 

From Plymouth, the 4th day of September, 1571. 
Your good Lordship's most faithfully to my power, 

John Hawkins. 

Addressed — 

To the Right Honourable the Lord Burghley, give this ! 

Parthenophil and 


Sonnets, Madrigals, Elegies, and 


To the right noble and virtuous gentleman, 
M.. William Percy, Esq., his dearest friend. 

[ The loiver part of the Title-pas^e is torn away in the only copy at 
present known; but there is the following entry in the Stationers' Registers 

"^ '593- ^ .. 

lo (^aij. 

John Wolf. Entred for his copies twoo bookes aucthorised by 
master hartwell vnder his hand. th[e]one . . . 
th[e]other intituled. Parthenophil and Parthe- 
NOPE &^c. By B. Barnes xijd S. 

Transcript <5r't. "■ 631. Ed. 1875. J 

[For permissioh to teprint this text ffom the 'unique copy ; our grateful 
thanks are due to the Duke of DEVONSHIRE.] 

J. 5/ 


To the Learned Gentlemen Readers, 

the Printer 


Hese labours following, being come of late into 
my hands barely, without title or subscription ; 
partly moved by certain of my dear friends, but 
especially by the worth and excellency of the 
Work, I thought it well deserving my labour, to participate 
them to your judicial views : where, both for variety of 
conceits, and sweet Poesy, you shall doubtless find that 
which shall be most commendable, and worth your reading. 
The Author, though at the first unknown (yet [has been] 
enforced to accord to certain of his friends' importunacy 
herein, to publish them, by their means, and for their sakes) 
[is] unwilling, as it seemeth, to acknowledge them, for their 
levity ; till he have redeemed them, with some more excellent 
work hereafter. Till when, he requesteth your favourable 
and indifferent censures of these his over-youthful Poems ; 
submitting them to your friendly patronages. 

Farewell I this of May, 1593. 

E.\'G. G.tK. v. 



rMCjjpr _ ^ ^ 

O, BASTARD Orphan ! Pack thee hence I 
And seek some Stranger for defence ! 
Now 'gins thy baseness to be known ! 
Nor dare I take thee for mine own ; 
Thy levity shall be descried ! 

But if that any have espied, 
And questioned with thee, of thy Sire ; 
Or Mistress of his vain Desire ; 
Or ask the Place from whence thou came ; 
Deny thy Sire ! Love ! Place ! and Name ! 

And if I chance, un'wares to meet thee, 
Neither acknowledge me, nor greet me ! 
Admit I blush (perchance, I shall). 
Pass by ! regard me not at all ! 
Be secret, wise, and circumspect ! 
And modesty sometimes affect ! 

Some good man, that shall think thee witty, 
Will be thy Patron ! and take pity ; 
And when some men shall call thee base 
He, for thy sake, shall them disgrace ! 
Then, with his countenance backed, thou shalt 
Excuse the nature of thy fault. 
Then, if some lads, when they go by, 
Thee, " Bastard ! " call ; give them the lie! 

So, get thee packing ! and take heed ! 
And, though thou go in beggar's weed, 
Hereafter (when I better may) 
I'll send relief, some other day 1 




IsTRESS ! Behold, in this true speaking 

Thy Beauty's graces! of all women rarest! 
Where thou may'st find how largely they 

And stain in glorious loveliness, the fairest. 
But read, sweet Mistress ! and behold it 
nearer ! 
Pond'ring my sorrow's outrage with some pity. 
Then shalt thou find no worldly creature dearer, 
Than thou to me, thyself, in each Love Ditty ! 
But, in this Mirror, equally compare 
Thy matchless beauty, with mine endless grief! 
There, like thyself none can be found so fair; 
Of chiefest pains, there, are my pains the chief. 
Betwixt these both, this one doubt shalt thou find ! 
Whether are, here, extremest, in their kind ? 



P A R T II E N P 11 1 L [ ?!ia^>'r593: 


HiLES, with strong chains of hardy tempered steel, 
^k^m I bound my thoughts, still gadding fast and faster; 
/AJEl When they, through time, the diff'rences did feel, 
Betwixt a Mistress' service and a Master. 
Keeping in bondage, jealously enthralled, 

In prisons of neglect, his nature's mildness; 
Him, I with solitary studies walled. 

By thraldom, choking his outrageous wildness. 
On whom, my careful thoughts I set to watch. 

Guarding him closely, lest he should out issue 
To seek thee, Laya ! who still wrought to catch 
And train my tender boy, that could not miss you 
(So you bewitched him once ! when he did kiss you), 
That, by such slights as never were found out, 
To serve your turn, he daily went about. 


E, WHEN continual vigil moved my Watch 

Some deal, by chance, with careful guard to slumber : 
The prison's keys from them did slowly snatch ; 
Which of the five, were only three in number. 
The first was Sight, by which he searched the wards ; 

The next was Hearing, quickly to perceive, 
Lest that the Watchmen heard, which were his guards ; 
Third, Touch, which Vulcan's cunning could deceive. 
These (though the springs, wards, bolts, or gimbols were 

The miracles of Vulcan's forgery) 
Laid open all, for his escape. Now, there, 
The watchmen grinned for his impiety. 
What crosses bred this contrariety, 
That by these keys, my thoughts, in chains be left ; 
And by these keys, L of mine heart bereft ? 

t Ma?T593."] ^ '^'-^ P A RT H E NO I H E. S O N N E T S. 34 1 


Aya, soon sounding out his nature throughly, 
Found that he was a lovely virgin Boy. 
Causeless, why did thou then deal with him roughly? 
Not yet content with him, sometimes, to toy ; 
But jealously kept, lest he should run from thee ! 

Whom if thou kindly meant to love, 'twas needless ! 
Doubtless lest that he should run back to me ! 
If of him, any deal thou didst stand heedless. 

Thou coop'st him in thy closet's secret corners ; 

And then, thy heart's dear playfellow didst make him ! 

Whom thou in person guardest ! (lest suborners 
Should work his freelege, or in secret take him) 
And to this instant, never would forsake him ! 

Since for soft service, slavish bonds be changed ! 

Why didst thou, from thy jealous master range ? 


T CHANCED, after, that a youthful Squire, 

Such as, in courting, could the crafty guise, 
Beheld light Laya. She, with fresh Desire, 
Hoping th'achievement of some richer prize, 
Drew to the Courtier ; who, with tender kiss, 

(As are their guileful fashions which dissemble) 
First him saluted ; then (with forged bliss 

Of doubtless hope) sweet words, by pause, did tremble. 
So whiles she slightly glosed with her new prey. 

My heart's eye (tending his false mistress' train) 
Unyoked himself, and closely 'scaped away ; 
And to Parthenophe did post amain. 
For liberal pardon ; which she did obtain. 
"And judge! Partiii:\ophe ! (for thou canst tell !) 
That his escape from Laya pleased me well." 

342 Sonnets. P a k t ii e n o p h i l [, May^ssl: 



Im when I caught, what chains had I provided ! 

What fetters had I framed ! What locks of Reason ! 
What Keys of Continence had I devised 

(Impatient of the breach) 'gainst any treason ! 
But fair Parthenophe did urge me still 

To liberal pardon, for his former fault ; 
Which, out alas ! prevailed with my will. 

Yet moved I bonds, lest he should make default : 
Which willmgly She seemed to undertake, 

And said, "As I am virgin! I will be 
His bail for this offence ; and if he make 

Another such vagary, take of me 

A pawn, for more assurance unto thee ! " 
** Your love to me," quoth I, "your pawn shall make ! 
So that, for his default, I forfeit take." 



Er love to me, She forthwith did impawn, 

And was content to set at liberty 

My trembling Heart ; which straight began to fawn 
Upon his Mistress' kindly courtesy. 
Not many days were past, when (like a wanton) 

He secretly did practise to depart ; 
And to Parthenophe did send a canton, 

Where, with sighs' accents, he did loves impart. 
And for because She deigned him that great sign 

Of gentle favours, in his kind release ; 
He did conclude, all duty to resign 

To fair Parthenophe : which doth increase 

These woes, nor shall my restless Muses cease ! 
For by her, of mine heart am I deprived ; 
And by her, my first sorrows' heat revived. 

? May\'593-] '' '^' ^ P A R T II E NO F II E. Sonnets. 343 


Hen to Partiikxophe, with all post haste 

(As full assured of the pawn fore-pledged), 
I made; and, with these words disordered placed, 

Smooth (though with fury's sharp outrages edged). 
Quoth I, " Fair Mistress! did I set mine Heart 

At liberty, and for that, made him free ; 
That you should arm him for another start. 

Whose certain bail you promised to be ! " 
"Tush !" quoth Pakthenophe, " before he go, 

I'll be his bail at last, and doubt it not ! " 
"Why then," said I, "that Mortgage must I show 

Of your true love, which at your hands I got 

Ay me ! She was, and is his bail, I wot : 
But when the Mortgage should have cured the sore 

She passed it off, by Deed of Gift before. 


O did Parthenophe release mine Heart ! 

So did She rob me of mine heart's rich treasure I 
Thus shall She be his bail before they part ! 

Thus in her love She made me such hard measure! 
Ay me ! nor hope of mutual love by leisure, 
Nor any type of my poor Heart's release 

Remains to me. How shall I take the seizure 
Of her love's forfeiture ? which took such peace 
Combined with a former love. Then cease 
To vex with sorrows, and thy griefs increase 
'Tis for Parthenophe ! thou suffer'st smart. 

Wild Nature's wound 's not curable by Art. 
Then cease, which choking sighs and heart-swoll'n throbs, 
To drasv thy breath, broke off with sorrow's sobs 1 

J44 Sonnets. P a r t h e n o p ii i l [^ 


Et give me leave, since all my joys be perished, 
Heart-less, to moan for my poor Heart's departure ! 
Nor should I mourn for him, if he were cherished. 

Ah, no ! She keeps him like a slavish martyr. 

Ah, me ! Since merciless, she made that charter, 
Sealed with the wax of steadfast continence, 
Signed with those hands which never can unwrite it, 
Writ with that pen, which (by preeminence) 

Too sure confirms whats'ever was indightit : 

What skills to wear thy girdle, or thy garter ; 

When other arms shall thy small waist embrace? 
How great a waste of mind and body's weal ! 

Now melts my soul ! I, to thine eyes appeal ! 

If they, thy tyrant champions, owe me grace. 


Hy didst thou, then, in such disfigured guise, 

Figure the portrait of mine overthrow ? 
IJ Why, man-like, didst thou mean to tyrannize ? 
No man, but woman would have sinned so ! 
Why, then, inhuman, and my secret foe ! 

Didst thou betray me ? yet would be a woman ! 

From my chief wealth, outweaving me this woe. 

Leaving thy love in pawn, till time did come on 
When that thy trustless bonds were to be tried ! 

And when, through thy default, I thee did summon 

Into the Court of Steadfast Love, then cried, 
'•'As it was promised, here stands his Heart's bail ! 

And if in bonds to thee, my love be tied ; 

Then by those bonds, take Forfeit of the Sale ! " 



Powers Celestial ! with what sophistry 
Took She delight, to blank my heart by sorrow ! 
And in such riddles, act my tragedy : 
Making this day, for him ; for me, to-morrow ! 
Where shall I Sonnets borrow ? 

Where shall I find breasts, sides, and tongue. 
Which my great wrongs might to the world dispense ? 

Where my defence ? 
My physic, where ? For how can I live long, 
That have foregone my Heart ? I'll steal from hence, 

From restless souls, mine hymns ! from seas, my tears ! 
From winds, my sides ! from concave rocks and steel 
My sides and voice's echo ! reeds which feel 
Calm blasts still moving, which the shepherd bears 
For wailful plaints, my tongue shall be ! 
The land unknown to rest and comfort me. 


Ight not this be for man's more certainty, 
By Nature's laws enactit, 
That those which do true meaning falsify. 
Making such bargains as were precontractit, 
Should forfeit freelege of love's tenancy 

To th' plaintiff grieved, if he exact it. 
Think on my love, thy faith ! yet hast thou cracked it. 
Nor Nature, Reason, Love, nor Faith can make thee 
To pity me ! My prisoned heart to pity. 
Sighs, no fit incense, nor my plaints can wake thee ! 
Thy nose, from savour, and thine ears, from sound 

Stopped and obdurate, nought could shake thee! 
Think on, when thou such pleasure found 
To read my lines ! and reading, termed them witty ! 
Whiles lines, for love ; and brains, for beauty witless ; 
I for Thee, fever scorched ; yet Thou still lilless ! 

34^ Sonnets. P a r t h e n o p h i l \j 

B. Barnes. 
May 1593. 


Ext with th'assaults of thy conceived beauty, 
I restless, on thy favours meditate ! 
And though despairful love, sometimes, my suit tie 
Unto these faggots (figures of my state), 
Which bound v^'ith endless line, by leisure wait 
That happy moment of your heart's reply ! 
Yet by those lines I hope to find the gate; 
Which, through love's labyrinth, shall guide me right. 
Whiles (unacquainted exercise!) I try 

Sweet solitude, I shun my life's chief light ! 
And all because I would forget thee quite. 
And (working that) methinks, it's such a sin 
(As I take pen and paper for to write) 
Thee to forget; that leaving, I begin! 


Hen none of these, my sorrows would allege ; 
I sought to find the means, how I might hate thee ! 
Then hateful Curiousness I did in-wedge 
Within my thoughts, which ever did await thee ! 
I framed mine Eyes for an unjust controlment ; 
And mine unbridled Thoughts (because I dare not 
Seek to compel) did pray them, take enrolment 
Of Nature's fault in her 1 and, equal, spare not ! 
They searched, and found " her eyes were sharp and fiery, 
A mole upon her forehead coloured pale, 
Her hair disordered, brown, and crisped wiry, 
Her cheeks thin speckled with a summer's male." 
This told, men weened it was a pleasing tale 
Her to disgrace, and make my follies fade. 

And please, it did ! but her, more gracious made. 

rMay%'593-3 ^^^ P A R T II E N P II E . SoNNETS. 347 


NcE in an arbour was my Mistress sleeping, 

With rose and woodbine woven, 
Whose person, thousand graces had in keeping, 
Where for mine heart, her heart's hard flint was 
To keep him safe. Behind, stood, pertly peeping, 

Poor Cupid, softly creeping. 
And drave small birds out of the myrtle bushes. 
Scared with his arrows, who sate cheeping 
On every sprig; whom Cupid calls and hushes 

From branch to branch : whiles I, poor soul ! sate weeping 

To see her breathe (not knowing) 
Incense into the clouds, and bless with breath 
The winds and air; whiles Cupid, underneath. 
With birds, with songs, nor any posies throwing. 
Could her awake. 
Each noise, sweet lullaby was, for her sake ! 


Here, had my Zeuxis place and time, to draw 
My Mistress' portrait ; which, on platane table. 
(With Nature, matching colours), as he saw 
Her leaning on her elbow ; though not able. 

He 'ganwith vermil, gold, white, and sable 
To shadow forth; and with a skilful knuckle 

Lively set out my fortunes' fable. 
On lips, a rose ; on hand, a honeysuckle. 
For Nature framed that arbour, in such orders 

That roses did with woodbines buckle ; 
Whose shadow trembling on her lovely face, 
He left unshadowed. There Art lost his grace ! 
And that white lily leaf, with fringed borders 

Of angels' gold, veiled the skies 
Of mine heaven's hierarchy, which closed her eyes. 

;4S Sonnets. Parthenophil\j May^'59> 


Hen him controlling, that he left undone, 
Her eyes' bright circle thus did answer make ; 
" Rest's mist, with silver cloud, had closed her sun. 
Nor could he draw them, till she were awake." 
*' Why then," quoth I, " were not these leaves' dark shade 
Upon her cheeks, depainted, as you see them ? " 
" Shape of a shadow cannot well be made ! " 
Was answered "for shade's shadows, none can eye them !' 
This reason proves sure argument for me, 
That my grief's image, I can not set out ; 
Which might with lively colours blazed be. 
Wherefore since nought can bring the means about, 
That thou, my sorrow's cause, should view throughout ; 
Thou wilt not pity me ! But this was it ! 
Zeuxis had neither skill, nor colours fit. 


Here, or to whom, then, shall I make complaint ? 
By guileful wiles, of mine heart's guide deprived ! 
With right's injustice, and unkind constraint : 
Barred from her loves, which my deserts achieved ! 
This though thou sought to choke, far more revived 
Within mine restless heart, left almost senseless. 
O, make exchange ! Surrender thine, for mine ! 
Lest that my body, void of guide, be fenceless. 
So shalt thou pawn to me, sign for a sign 

Of thy sweet conscience ; when I shall resign 
Thy love's large Charter, and thy Bonds again. 
O, but I fear mine hopes be void, or menceless ! 
No course is left, which might thy loves attain. 
Whether v/ith sighs I sue, or tears complain ! 

t Ma^^lw-] ^"^^ P A R T n E N O r II E. S O N N E T S . 349 


Ea, that accursed Deed, before unsealed, 
Is argument of thy first constancy ! 
Which if thou hadst to me before revealed ; 
I had not pleaded in such fervency. 
Yet this delights, and makes me triumph much, 
That mine Heart, in her body lies imprisoned ! 
For, 'mongst all bay-crowned conquerors, no such 
Can make the slavish captive boast him conquered, 
Except Pakthenophe ; whose fiery gleams 

(Like Jove's swift lightning raging, which rocks pierceth) 
Heating them inly with his sudden beams, 
And secret golden mines with melting searseth 
Eftsoons with cannon, his dread rage rehearseth ; 
Yet nought seems scorched, in apparent sight. 
So first. She secret burnt ; then, did affright ! 


Ow then succeedeth that, amid this woe, 

(Where Reason's sense doth from my soul divide) 

By these vain lines, my fits be specified ; 

Which from their endless ocean, daily flow? 
Where was it born ? Whence, did this humour grow, 

Which, long obscured with melancholy's mist. 

Inspires my giddy brains unpurified 

So lively, with sound reasons, to persist 
In framing tuneful Elegies, and Hymns 

For her, whose names my Sonnets note so trims ; 

That nought but her chaste name so could assist ? 
And my Muse in first tricking out her limbs. 

Found in her lifeless Shadow such delight ; 

That yet She shadows her, when as I write. 

350 Sonnets. P a r t ii e n o p ii i l \, May','593; 


Rite ! write ! help ! help, sweet Muse ! and never 
cease ! 
In endless labours, pens and paper tire! 
Until I purchase my long wished Desire. 
Brains, with my Reason, never rest in peace ! 

Waste breathless words ! and breathful sighs increase! 
Till of my woes, remorseful, you espy her; 
Till she with me, be burnt in equal fire. 
I never will, from labour, wits release! 
My senses never shall in quiet rest ; 
Till thou be pitiful, and love alike ! 
And if thou never pity my distresses ; 

Thy cruelty, with endless force shall strike 
Upon my wits, to ceaseless writs addrest ! 
My cares, in hope of some revenge, this lesses. 


Mperious Jove, with sweet lipped Mercury; 

Learned Minerva; Phcebus, God of Light ; 

Vein-swelling Bacchus; Venus, Queen of Beauty; 

With light-foot Phcebe, Lamp of silent Night : 
These have, with divers deities beside, 

Borrowed the shapes of many a mortal creature ; 

But fair Parthenophe, graced with the pride 

Of each of these, sweet Queen of lovely feature I 
As though she were, with pearl of all their skill. 

By heaven's chief nature garnished. She knits 

In wrath, Jove's forehead ; with sweet noting quill. 

She matcheth Mercury, Minerva's wits; 
In goldy locks, bright Titan ; Bacchus sits 

In her hands conduit pipes ; sweet Venus' face ; 

Diana's leg, the Tyrian buskins grace. 

? May .'593.] ^ '^ ^ P A R T H E N p II E. Sonnets. 351 


Hese Eyes (thy Beauty's Tenants !) pay due tears 
For occupation of mine Heart, thy Freehold, 
In Tenure of Love's service ! If thou behold 
With what exaction, it is held through fears ; 
And yet thy Rents, extorted daily, bears. 

Thou would not, thus, consume my quiet's gold ! 
And yet, though covetous thou be, to make 
Thy beauty rich, with renting me so roughly, 
And at such sums : thou never thought dost take, 
But still consumes me ! Then, thou dost misguide all ! 
Spending in sport, for which I wrought so toughly ! 
When I had felt all torture, and had tried all ; 
And spent my Stock, through 'strain of thy extortion; 
On that, I had but good hopes, for my portion. 


Ea, but uncertain hopes are Anchors feeble. 
When such faint-hearted pilots guide my ships. 
Of all my fortune's Ballast with hard pebble. 
Whose doubtful voyage proves not worth two chips. 
If when but one dark cloud shall dim the sky. 
The Cables of hope's happiness be cut ; 
When bark, with thoughts-drowned mariners shall lie, 
Prest for the whirlpool of grief's endless glut. 
If well thou mean, Parthenophe ! then ravish 
Mine heart, with doubtless hope of mutual love ! 
If otherwise ; then let thy tongue run lavish ! 
For this, or that, am I resolved to prove ! 
And both, or either ecstasy shall move 
Me! ravished, end with surfeit of relief; 
Or senseless, daunted, die with sudden grief. 

152 Sonnets. Parthenopiiil \j\ 


Rom thine heart's ever burning Vestal fire, 
The torchlight of two suns is nourished still ; 
Which, in mild compass, still surmounting higher, 
Their orbs, which circled harmony fulfil ; 

Whose rolling wheels run on meridian's line, 
And turning, they turn back the misty night. 
Report of which clear wonder did incline 
Mine eyes to gaze upon that uncouth light. 

On it till I was sunburnt, did I gaze ! 

Which with a fervent agony possessed me ; 
Then did I sweat, and swelt ; mine eyes daze 
Till that a burning fever had oppressed me : 

Which made me faint. No physic hath repressed me ; 
For I try all ! yet, for to make me sound, 
Ay, me ! no grass, nor physic may be found. 


Hen, with the Dawning of my first delight, 
The Daylight of love's Delicacy moved me ; 
Then from heaven's disdainful starry light. 
The Moonlight of her Chastity reproved me. 
Her forehead's threatful clouds from hope removed me. 
Till Midnight reared on the mid-noctial line ; 
Her heart whiles Pity's slight had undershoved me. 
Then did I force her downward to decline 
Till Dawning daylight cheerfully did shine ; 
And by such happy revolution drew 
Her Morning's blush to joyful smiles mcline. 
And now Meridian heat dries up my dew ; 

There rest, fair Planets ! Stay, bright orbs of day ! 
Still smiling at my dial, next eleven ! 

B. Barnes 
t May 1593, 

] AND Parthencphe. S o n n e t s. 353 


Hese, mine heart-eating Eyes do never gaze 
Upon thy sun's harmonious marble wheels, 
But from these eyes, through force of thy sun's 
Rain tears continual, whiles my faith's true steels, 
Tempered on anvil of thine heart's cold Flint, 
Strike marrow-melting fire into mine eyes ; 
The Tinder, whence my Passions do not stint 
As Matches to those sparkles which arise. 
Which, when the Taper of mine heart is lighted, 
Like salamanders, nourish in the flame : 
And all the Loves, with my new Torch delighted, 
Awhile, like gnats, did flourish in the same ; 
But burnt their wings, nor any way could frame 

To fly from thence, since Jove's proud bird (that bears 
His thunder) viewed my sun; but shed down tears. 


Hen count it not disgrace ! if any view me. 
Sometime to shower down rivers of salt tears, 
From tempest of my sigh's despairful fears. 
Then scorn me not, alas, sweet friends! but rue me ! 
Ah, pity ! pity me ! For if you knew me ! 
How, with her looks, mine heart amends and wears; 
Now calm, now ragious, as my Passion bears : 

You would lament with me ! and She which slew me, 
She which (Ay me !) She which did deadly wound me, 
And with her beauty's balm, though dead, keeps lively 
My lifeless body ; and, by charms, hath bound me. 
For thankless meed, to serve her : if she vively 
Could see my sorrow's maze, which none can tread ; 
She would be soft and light, though flint and lead ! 

Es(.. Car. V. 


354 S O N N F T S . P A R T H E N r H T L [, May"!""^! 


Hen lovely wrath, my Mistress' heart assaileth, 
Love's golden darts take aim from her bright eyes ; 
And Psyche, Venus' rosy couch empaleth, 
Placed in her cheeks, with lilies, where she lies ! 
And when She smiles, from her sweet looks and cheerful, 
Like Phcebus, when through sudden clouds he starteth 
(After stern tempests, showers, and thunder fearful) ; 
So She, my world's delight, with her smiles hearteth ! 
Aurora, yellow looks, when my Love blushes, 
Wearing her hair's bright colour in her face ! 
And from love's ruby portal lovely rushes. 
For every word She speaks, an angel's grace ! 
If She be silent, every man in place 

With silence, wonders her ! and if She sleep. 
Air doth, with her breath's murmur, music keep ! 


Hy do I draw this cool relieving air, 
And breathe it out in scalding sighs, as fast ? 

^^ Since all my hopes die buried in despair ; 

In which hard soil, mine endless knots be cast. 
Where, when I come to walk, be sundry Mazes 

With Beauty's skilful finger lined out ; 

And knots, whose borders set with double daisies, 

Doubles my dazed Muse with endless doubt. 
How to find easy passage through the time, 

With which my Mazes are so long beset, 

That I can never pass, but fall and climb 

According to my Passions (which forget 
The place, where they with Love's Guide should have met) : 

But when, faint-wearied, all (methinks) is past ; 

The Maze returning, makes me turn as fast. 

f Ma^.'sS ^^^^ P AR T II E NOP HE. S ON N E T S. 355 


O BE my labours endless in their turns. 
Turn ! turn, Parthenophe ! Turn, and relent ! 
Hard is thine heart, and never will repent ! 
See how this heart within my body burns ! 
Thou see'st it not ! and therefore thou rejournes 
My pleasures! Ill my days been overspent. 
When I beg grace, thou mine entreaty spurns ; 
Mine heart, with hope upheld, with fear returns. 
Betwixt these Passions, endless is my fit. 

Then if thou be but human, grant some pity ! 
Or if a Saint ? sweet mercies are their meeds ! 
Fair, lovely, chaste, sweet spoken, learned, witty ; 
These make thee Saint-like ! and these, Saints befit : 
But thine hard heart makes all these graces, weeds ! 


Less still the myrrh tree, Venus ! for thy meed! 
For to the weeping myrrh, my Tears be due. 
Contentious winds, which did from Titan breed ! 
The shaking Aspine tree belongs to you : 
To th' Aspine, I bequeath my ceaseless Tongue ! 
And Phcebus, let thy laurels ever flourish! 
To still-green laurel, my Loves do belong. 
Let mighty Jove, his oak's large branches nourish ! 
For to strong oak, mine Heart is consecrate. 

Let dreadful Pluto bless black heben* tree! \*F.boHY.\ 

To th' Heben, my Despair is dedicate. 
And Naiads, let your willows loved be I 
To them, my Fortunes still removed be. 
So shall my tears, tongue. Passions never cease ; 
Nor heart decay, nor my despair decrease. - 

356 Sonnets. P a r t h e n o p h i l [, Ma^''x"93; 


O THIS continual fountain of my Tears, 
From that hard rock of her sweet beauty trickling ; 
So shall my Tongue on her love's music tickling; 
So shall my Passions, fed with hopes and fears ; 
So shall mine Heart, which wearing, never wears. 
But soft, is hardened with her beauty's prickling ; 
On which, Despair, my vulture seized, stands pickling 
Yet never thence his maw full gorged bears ; 
Right so, my Tears, Tongue, Passions, Heart, Despair ; 
With floods, complaints, sighs, throbs, and endless 

sorrow ; 
In seas, in volumes, winds, earthquakes, and hell ; 
Shall float, chant, breathe, break, and dark mansion borrow! 
And, in them, I be blessed for my Fair ; 
That in these torments, for her sake I dwell. 


Burn, yet am I cold ! I am a cold, yet burn ! 

In pleasing, discontent ! in discontentment, pleased ! 

Diseased, I am in health ! and healthful, am 

dise'-ised ! 
In turning back, proceed ! proceeding, I return ! 
In mourning, I rejoice ! and in rejoicing, mourn ! 

In pressing, I step back ! in stepping back, I pressed ! 
In gaining, still I lose ! and in my losses, gain ! 
Grounded, I waver still ! and wavering, still am grounded ! 
Unwounded, yet not sound ! and being sound, am wounded ! 
Slain, yet am I alive ! and yet alive, am slain ! 
Hounded, my heart rests still ! still resting, is it hounded ! 
In pain, I feel no grief! yet void of grief, in pain ! 
Unmoved, I vex myself! unvexed, yet am I moved! 
Beloved, She loves me not ; yet is She my beloved ! 

T ^Iay^'^3 J '^ '"'' ^ P A R T II E .V O P H E. S O N N E T S. ^^I'l 


Arce twice seven times had Phoebus' waggon wheel 
Obliquely wandered through the Zodiac's line. 
Since Nature first to Ops did me resign, 
When in mine youthful vein, I well could feel 
A lustful rage, which, Reason's chains of steel 

(With headstrong force of Lust) did still untwine. 
To wanton Fancies I did then incline ; 
Whilst mine unbridled Photon did reel 
With heedless rage, till that his chariot came 
To take, in fold, his resting with the Ram. 
But bootless, all ! For such was his unrest 
That, in no limits, he could be contained ! 
To lawless sports and pleasures, ever prest ; 
And his swift wheels, with their sweet oil distained I 


Ext, when the boundless fury of my sun 
Began in higher climates, to take fire ; 

^ And with it, somewhat kindled my Desire. 
Then, lest I should have wholly been undone ; 

(For now mine age have thrice seven winters run) 
With studies, and with labours did I tire 
Mine itching Fancies ! which did still aspire. 
Then, from those objects (which their force begun. 

Through wandering fury, to possess mine heart), 
Mine eyes, their vain seducers, I did fix 
On Pallas, and on Mars ! home, and in field ! 

And armed strongly (lest my better part 
To milder objects should itself immix), 
I vowed, " I never would, to Beaut}- yield ! " 

358 Sonnets. Parthenophil Q \^y':^^^i. 


Ut when, in May, my world's bright fiery sun 
Flad past in Zodiac, with his golden team, 
To place his beams, which in the Twins begun : 
The blazing twin stars of my world's bright beam, 
My Mistress' Eyes ! mine heaven's bright Sun and Moon ! 
The Stars by which, poor Shepherd I, am warned 
To pin in late, and put my flocks out soon ; 
My flocks of Fancies, as the signs me learned : 
Then did my love's first Spring begin to sprout. 
So long as my sun's heat in these signs reigned. 
But wandering all the Zodiac throughout, 
From her May's twins, my sun such heat constrained : 
That where, at first, I little had complained ; 

From Sign to Sign, in such course he now posteth ! 
Which, daily, me, with hotter flaming toasteth. 



Ext, when my sun, by progress, took his hold 
In Cancer, of my Mistress' crafty mind ; 
How retrograde seemed She ! when as I told 
That " in his claws, such torches I did find ; 
Which if She did not to my tears lay plain 

That they might quenched be from their outrage ; 
My love's hot June should be consumed in pain, 
Unless her pity make my grief assuage." 
O, how She frowns ! and like the Crab, back turns ! 
When I request her put her beams apart ; 
Yet with her beams, my soul's delight. She burns ! 
She pities not to think upon my smart ! 
Nor from her Cancer's claws can I depart : 
For there, the torch of my red-hot Desire 
Grieves and relieves me, with continual fire. 

t May^i'w":] ^ ^^ P A R 1 11 E N O P II E. S O N N E T S. 359 


Nd thus continuing with outrageous fire, 
My sun, proceeding forward (to my sorrow !), 
Took up his Court ; but willing to retire 
Within the Lion's den, his rage did borrow. 

But whiles within that Mansion he remained. 
How cruel was Parthenophe to me ! 
And when of my great sorrows I complained, 
She Lion-like, wished "they might tenfold be !" 

Then did I rage ; and in unkindly Passions, 
I rent mine hair, and razed my tender skin ; 
And raving in such frantic fashions, 
That wdth such cruelty she did begin 

To feed the fire which I was burned in. 

Can woman brook to deal so sore with men ? 
She, man's woe ! learned it in the Lion's den ! 


Ut Pity, which sometimes doth lions move, 
Removed my sun from moody Lion's cave ; 
And into Virgo's bower did next remove 
His fiery wheels. But then She answer gave 
That " She was all vowed to virginity ! " 

Yet said, " 'Bove all men, She would most affect me ! 
Fie, Delian goddess ! In thy company 
She learned, with honest colour, to neglect me ! 
And underneath chaste veils of single life, 

She shrouds her crafty claws, and lion's heart ! 
Which, with my senses, now, do mingle strife 
'Twixt loves and virtues, which provoke my smart. 
Yet from these Passions can I never part, 
But still I make my suits importunate 
To thee ! which makes my case unfortLinate. 

36o S 

O N N E T S 

P A K T H E N P H I L [, ^- ^^''""• 

May 1593 


Hen thine heart-piercing answers could not hinder 
Mine heart's hot hammer on thy steel to batter ; 
Nor could excuses cold, quench out that cinder 
Which in me kindled was : She weighed the matter, 

And turning my sun's chariot, him did place 
In Libra's equal Mansion, taking pause, 
And casting, with deep judgement, to disgrace 
My love, with cruel dealing in the cause. 

She, busily, with earnest care devised 

How She might make her beauty tyrannous, 

And I, for ever, to her yoke surprised : 

The means found out, with cunning perilous, 

She turned the wheels, with force impetuous, 
And armed with woman-like contagion 
My sun She lodged in the Scorpion. 



Hen (from her Venus, and bright Mercury, 
My heaven's clear planets), did She shoot such blazes 
As did infuse, with heat's extremity. 
Mine heart, which on despair's bare pasture grazes. 

Then, like the Scorpion, did She deadly sting me; 
And with a pleasing poison pierced me ! 
Which, to these utmost sobs of death, did bring me, 
And, through my soul's faint sinews, searched me. 

Yet might She cure me with the Scorpion's Oil ! 
If that She were so kind as beautiful : 
But, in my bale. She joys to see me boil ; 
Though be my Passions dear and dutiful, 

Yet She, remorseless and unmerciful. 

But when my thought of her is such a thing 
To strike me dead ; judge, if herself can sting ! 

' M5^'s9*3•■] ^^^ P ARTH E X O F H E. S O N N E T S. 3 6 I 


Ut, ah, my plague, through time's outrage, increased ! 

For when my sun his task had finished 

Within the Scorpion's Mansion, he not ceased. 

Nor yet his heat's extremes diminished. 
Till that dead-aiming Archer 'dressed his quiver. 

In which he closely couched, at the last ! 

That Archer, which does pierce both heart and liver, 

With hot gold-pointed shafts, which rankle fast ! 
That proud, commanding, and swift-shooting Archer ; 

Far-shooting Phoebus, which doth overshoot ! 

And, more than Phcebus, is an inward parcher ! 

That with thy notes harmonious and songs soot 
Allured my sun, to fire mine heart's soft root ! 

And with thine ever-wounding golden arrow. 
First pricked my soul, then pierced my body's marrow ! 


X L I . 

Hen my sun, Cupid, took his next abiding 

'Mongst craggy rocks and mountains, with the Goat; 

Ah then, on beauty did my senses doat ! 

Then, had each Fair regard, my fancies guiding ! 
Then, more than blessed was I, if one tiding 

Of female favour set mine heart afloat ! 

Then, to mine eyes each Maid was made a moat ! 

My fickle thoughts, with divers fancies sliding, 
With wanton rage of lust, so me did tickle ! 

Mine heart, each Beauty's captived vassal ! 

Nor vanquished then (as now) but with love's prickle I 
Not deeply moved (till love's beams did discover 

That lovely Nymph, Parthenopme !), no lover! 

Stop there, for fear ! Love's privilege doth pass all I 

362 Sonnets. P a r t h e n p it i l [, 

B. Barnes. 
May. 1593. 


Ass all ! Ah, no ! No jot will be omitted, 
Now though my sun within the water rest ; 
Yet doth his scalding fury still infest 
Into this sign. While that my Phcebus flitted, 
Thou moved these streams ; whose courses thou committed 
To me, thy Water-man bound ! and addrest 
To pour out endless drops upon that soil 
Which withers most, when it is watered best ! 
Cease, floods ! and to your channels, make recoil ! 
Strange floods, which on my fire burn like oil ! 
Thus whiles mine endless furies higher ran, 
Thou ! thou, Parthenophe ! my rage begun ; 
Sending thy beams, to heat my fiery sun ; 
Thus am I Water-man, and Fire-man ! 



Ow in my Zodiac's last extremest sign, 
My luckless sun, his hapless Mansion made ; 
And in the water, willing more to wade. 
To Pisces did his chariot wheels incline: 

For me (poor Fish!) he, with his golden line 
Baited with beauties, all the river lade, 
(For who, of such sweet baits would stand afraid ?) 
There nibbling for such food as made me pine, 

Love's Golden Hook, on me took sudden hold ; 
And I down swallowed that impoisoned gold. 
Since then, devise what any wisher can. 

Of fiercest torments ! since, all joys devise ! 

Worse griefs, more joys did my true heart comprise ! 
Such, were Love's baits ! my crafty Fisherman. 

May^sw] ^^-^ PaKTHENOPHE. SoNNETS. 363 


UcH Strange effects wrought by thought-wounding 

In changing me to fish, his baits to swallow ; 
With poison choking me, unless that you bid 
Him to my stomach give some antidote ! 

Fly, little god, with wings of swallow ! 
Or if thy feathers fast float, 
That antidote from my heart's Empress bring ! 

My feeble senses to revive : 
Lest (if thou wave it with an eagle's wing) 
Too late thou come, and find me not alive ! 



Why loved I ? For love, to purchase hatred ! 
Or wherefore hates She ? but that I should love hei 
Why were these cheeks with tears bewatered ? 
Because my tears might quench those sparks 

Which with heat's pity move her! 
Her cloudy frown, with mist her beauty darks, 
To make it seem obscured at my smiles. 

In dark, true diamonds will shine ! 
Her hate, my love ; her heat, my tears beguiles ! 
Fear makes her doubtful; yet her heart is mine! 

364 Sonnets. Parthenophil [, 

B. Barnes. 
? May 1593. 

Outh's wanton Spring, when in the raging Bull 

My sun was lodged, gave store of flowers, 

With leaves of pleasure, stalks of hours ; [full 
Which soon shaked off the leaves, when they were 
Of pleasures, beauty dewed, with April showers. 
My Summer love, whose buds were beautiful, 
Youthful desires, with heats unmerciful, 
Parched; whose seeds, when harvest time was come, 

Were cares, against my suits obdurate. 
With sheaves of scorn bound up, which did benumb 
Mine heart with grief; yet made her heart indurate. 
O chaste desires, which held her heart immurate 

In walls of adamant unfoiled ! 
My Winter spent in showers of sorrow's tears ! 

Hailstones of hatred ! frosts of fears ! 
My branches bared of pleasure, and despoiled ! 


Hy am I thus in mind and body wounded ? 
O mind, and body mortal, and divine ! 

On what sure rock is your fort grounded ? 
On death ? Ah, no ! For at it, you repine ! 
Nay, both entombed in her beauty's shrine 
Will live, though shadow- like; that men astounded 
At their anatomies, when they shall view it, 

May pitifully rue it. 
Yea, but her murdering beauty doth so shine, 

(O yet much merciless !) 
That heart desires to live with her, that slew it ! 
And though She still rest pitiless. 

Yet, at her beauty, will I wonder I 
Though sweet graces (past repeat) 
Never appear, but when they threat ; 
Firing my secret heart, with dart and thunder. 

! May^'593G ^^ N D P A R 7 II E N F H E . S O N N E T S. 365 


Dart and thunder ! whose fierce violence 
Surmounting Rhetoric's dart and thunder bolts, 
Can never be set out in eloquence ! 
Whose might all metals' mass asunder moults ! 
Where be the famous Prophets of old Greece ? 
Those ancient Roman poets of account ? 
MuSiEUS, who went for the Golden Fleece 
With Jason, and did Hero's love recount ! 
And thou, sweet Naso, with thy golden verse ; 
Whose lovely spirit ravished Cesar's daughter ! 
And that sweet Tuscan, Petrarch, which did pierce 
His Laura with Love Sonnets, when he sought her ! 
Where be all these ? That all these might have taught her, 
That Saints divine, are known Saints by their mercy! 
And Saint-like beauty should not rage with pierce eye! 


WeeT Beauty's rose ! in whose fair purple leaves, 
Love's Queen, in richest ornament doth lie; 
Whose graces, were they not too sweet and high. 
Might here be seen, but since their sight bereaves 

All senses ; he (that endless bottom weaves, 
Which did Penelope) who that shall try, 
Then wonder, and in admiration die 
At Nature-passing Nature's holy frame ! 

Her beauty, thee revives I Thy Muse upheaves 
To draw celestial spirit from the skies ! 
To praise the Work and Worker whence it came ! 

This spirit, drawn from heaven of thy fair eyes ! 
Whose gilded cognizance, left in mine heart, 
Shews me thy faithful servant, to my smart ! 

366 Sonnets. Parthenophil [, \{^yT^. 


H, PiERCE-EYE piercing eye, and blazing light ! 

Of thunder, thunder blazes burning up ! 

O sun, sun melting ! blind, and dazing sight ! 

Ah, heart ! down-driving heart, and turning up ! 
O matchless beauty. Beauty's beauty staining ! 

Sweet damask rosebud ! Venus' rose of roses ! 

Ah, front imperious, duty's duty gaining ! 

Yet threatful clouds did still inclose and closes. 
O lily leaves, when Juno lily's leaves 

In wond'ring at her colours' grain distained ! 

Voice, which rock's voice and mountain's hilly cleaves 

In sunder, at my loves with pain complained ! 
Eye, lightning sun ! Heart, beauty's bane unfeigned ! 

O damask rose ! proud forehead ! lily ! voice ! 

Ah, partial fortune ! sore chance ! silly choice ! 


IvE me my Heart ! For no man liveth heartless ! 

And now deprived of heart, I am but dead, 

(And since thou hast it ; in his tables read ! 

Whether he rest at ease, in joys and smartless ? 
Whether beholding him, thine eyes were dartless ? 

Or to what bondage, his enthralment leads ?) 

Return, dear Heart ! and me, to mine restore ! 

Ah, let me thee possess ! Return to me I 
I find no means, devoid of skill and artless. 

Thither return, where thou triumphed before ! 

Let me of him but repossessor be ! 
And when thou gives to me mine heart again ; 

Thyself, thou dost bestow ! For thou art She, 
Whom I call Heart ! and of whom, I complain. 

May^'xws-] ^ ^^^ Par the NOPiiE. Sonnets. 367 


Wish no rich refined Arabian gold ! 

Nor orient Indian pearl, rare Nature's wonder! 

No diamonds, th' Egyptian surges under ! 

No rubies of America, dear sold ! 
Nor saphires, which rich Afric sands enfold ! 

(Treasures far distant, from this isle asunder) 

Barbarian ivories, in contempt I hold ! 

But only this ; this only, Venus, grant ! 
That I, my sweet Parthenophe may get! 

Her hairs, no grace of golden wires want ; 

Pure pearls, with perfect rubines are inset ; 
True diamonds, in eyes ; saphires, in veins : 

Nor can I, that soft ivory skin forget ! 

England, in one small subject, such contains! 


OoL ! cool in waves, thy beams intolerable, 
O sun ! No son, but most unkind stepfather! 
By law, nor Nature, Sire ; but rebel rather I 
Fool ! fool ! these labours are inextricable ; 
A burden whose weight is importable ; 

A Siren which, within thy breast, doth bathe her ; 
A Fiend which doth, in Graces' garments grath her ; 
A fortress, whose force is impregnable ; 
From my love's 'lembic, still 'stilled tears. O tears ! 
Quench ! quench mine heat ! or, with your sovereignty 
Like NiOBE, convert mine heart to marble ! 
Or with fast-flowing pine, my body dry. 

And rid me from Despair's chilled fears ! O fears. 
Which on mine heben harp's heartstrings do warble I 

368 Sonnets. P a r t h e n o p h i l [, \{l:^^^{. 


O WARBLE out your tragic notes of sorrow, 
Black harp of liver-pining Melancholy ! 
Black Humour, patron of my Fancy's folly ! 
Mere follies, which from Fancy's fire, borrow 
Hot fire ; which burns day, night, midnight, and morrow. 
Long morning which prolongs my sorrows solely, 
And ever overrules my Passions wholly : 
So that my fortune, where it first made sorrow. 
Shall there remain, and ever shall it plow 

The bowels of mine heart ; mine heart's hot bowels ! 
And in their furrows, sow the Seeds of Love ; 
Which thou didst sow, and newly spring up now 

And make me write vain words : no words, but Vowels ! 
For nought to me, good Consonant would prove. 


^Ame Consonants, of member-Vowels robbed ! 
What perfect sounding words can you compose. 
Wherein you might my sorrow's flame disclose ? 
Can you frame maimed words, as you had throbbed ? 
Can you with sighs, make signs of Passions sobbed ? 
Or can your Characters, make Sorrow's shows ? 
Can Liquids make them ? I, with tears make those! 
But for my tears, with taunts and frumps are bobbed. 
Could Mutes procure good words, mute would I be ! 
But then who should my Sorrow's Image paint? 
No Consonants, or Mutes, or Liquids will 
Set out my sorrows ; though, with grief I faint. 
If with no letter, but one Vowel should be; 
An A, with H, my Sonnet would fulfil. 

D. Karne..-| j y 2) P A A' 7 // E X O F 11 E. S O N N E T S . 369 

? May 1593. 


Ethought, Calliope did from heaven descend 
To sing, fair Mistress ! thy sweet beauty's praise. 
Thy sweet enchanting voice did Orpheus raise ; 
Who, with his harp (which down the gods did send) 

Celestial concord to the voice did lend. 
His music, all wild beasts so did amaze 
That they, submissive to thy looks did bend. 
Hills, trees, towns, bridges, from their places wend, 

Hopping and dancing. All the winds be still 
And listen ; whiles the nightingales fulfil, 
With larks and thrushes, all defects of pleasure. 

Springs sang thy praises, in a murmur shrill. 
Whiles I, enraged by music, out of trance, 
Like Bacchus's priest, did, in thy presence dance. 


Or glory, pleasure, and fair flourishing; 
Sweet singing, courtly dancing, curious love, 
A rich remembrance ; virtue's nourishing ; 
For sacred care of heavenly things ; 

For voice's sweetness, music's notes above, 

When she divinely speaks or sings : 
CliOj dismount ! Euterpe, silent be ! 
Thalia, for thy purple, put on sackcloth ! 
Sing hoarse, Melpomene ! with Jove's Harpies three ! 
Terpsichore, break off thy galliard dances ! 

Leave, Erato, thy daliance ! court in black cloth ! 
Thy praises, Polyhymnia! She enhances. 
For heavenly zeal, Urania, She outreacheth. 
Plead not. Calliope ! Sing not to thy lute ! 
Jove and Mnemosine, both, be mute! 
While my Parthenophe. your daughters teacheth. 

370 Sonnets. Parthenophil [, 

B. Barnes. 
May 1593. 


\_See Vol. I. pp. 74, 128, 460, 651.] 

Hou scaled my fort, blind Captain of Conceit ! 
But you, sweet Mistress ! entered at the breach ! 

There, you made havoc of my heart ! 
There, you to triumph, did my tyrant teach ! 
Beware ! He knows to win you by deceit ! 
Those ivory Walls cannot endure his dart ! 

That Turret, framed with heaven's rare art, 
Immured with whitest porphyry, and inset 
With roses, checking Nature's pride of ruby 1 
Those two true diamonds which their Windows fret, 
Arched with pure gold, yet mourn in sable shade ! 
Warn not these, that in danger you be ? 
Vanquish her, little tyrant ! I will true be 1 
And though She will not yield to me ; 
Yet none could thrall my heart, but She ! 


HiNE Eyes, mine heaven! (which harbour lovely rest. 

And with their beams all creatures cheer) 

Stole from mine eyes their clear ; 
And made mine eyes dim mirrolds of unrest. 
And from her lily Forehead, smooth and plain, 

My front, his withered furrows took ; 

And through her grace, his grace forsook. 

From soft Cheeks, rosy red, 
My cheeks their leanness, and this pallid stain. 

The Golden Pen of Nature's book, 

(For her Tongue, that task undertook !) 
Which to the Graces' Secretory led, 
And sweetest Muses, with sweet music fed, 
Inforced my Muse, in tragic tunes to sing : 

But from her heart's hard frozen string, 
Mine heart his tenderness and heat possest. 

May"T"9?-] ^ ^' ^^ P A R TJJ E N O P II E . S O x\ X E T S . :-j-] 


Ike to the Mountains, are mine high desires ; 

Level to thy love's highest point : 
Grounded on faith, which thy sweet grace requires. 

For Springs, tears rise in endless source. 
For Summer's flowers, Love's fancies I appoint. 

The Trees, with storms tossed out of course, 
Figure my thoughts, still blasted with Despair. 

Thunder, lightning, and hail 
Make his trees mourn : thy frowns make me bewail ! 
rhis only difference ! Here, fire ; there, snows are ! 


Hy do I draw my breath, vain sighs to feed ; 

Since all my sighs be breathed out in vain ? 

Why be these eyes the conduits, whence proceed 

These ceaseless tears, which, for your sake ! do rain 
Why do I write my woes ! and writing, grieve 

To think upon them, and their sweet contriver; 

Begging some comfort, which might me relieve. 

When the remembrance is my cares' reviver ? 
Why do I sue to kiss ; and kiss, to love ; 

And love, to be tormented ; not beloved ? 

Can neither sighs, nor tears, my sorrows move 
Ey lines, or words ? nor will they be removed ? 

Then tire not, Tyrant ! but on mine heart tire ! 

That unconsumed, I burn, in my Desire. 

3/2 Sonnets. P a k t ji e n o p h i l [? \ 

May 1593. 


Hen I was young, indued with Nature's graces; 
I stole blind Love's strong bow and golden arrows, 
To shoot at redbreasts, goldfinches, and sparrows ; 
At shrewd girls ; and at boys, in other places. 
I shot, when I was vexed with disgraces. 

I pierced no skin, but melted up their marrows. 
How many boys and girls wished mine embraces ! 
How many praised my favour, 'bove all faces ! 
But, once, Parthenophe ! by thy sweet side sitting, 
Love had espied me, in a place most fitting \ 
Betrayed by thine eyes' beams (which make blind see) 
He shot at me ; and said, " for thine eyes' light ; 
This daring boy (that durst usurp my right) 
Take him ! a wounded slave to Love and Thee ! " 


Ymphs, which in beauty mortal creatures stain, 
And Satyrs, which none but fair Nymphs behold ; 

I They, to the Nymphs ; and Nymphs to them, 
complain : 
And each, in spite, my Mistress' beauty told. 

Till soundly sleeping in a myrtle grove, 
A wanton Satyr had espied her there ; 
Who deeming she was dead, in all haste strove 
To fetch the Nymphs ; which in the forests were. 

They flocking fast, in triumph of her death. 
Lightly beheld : and, deeming she was dead, 
Nymphs sang, and Satyrs danced out of breath. 

Whilst Satyrs, with the Nymphs La Voltas led ; 
My Mistress did awake ! Then, they which came 
To scorn her beauty, ran away for shame ! 

B. Barnes 
! May 1593 

■^AND P ART HE N P H E. S O N N E T S. 373 


He Dial ! love, which shews how my days spend. 
The leaden Plummets sliding to the ground ! 
My thoughts, which to dark melancholy bend. 
The rolling Wheels, which turn swift hours round ! 
Thine eyes, Parthenophe ! my Fancy's guide. 
The Watch, continually which keeps his stroke ! 
By whose oft turning, every hour doth slide ; 
Figure the sighs, which from my liver smoke, 
Whose oft invasions finish my life's date. 

The Watchman, which, each quarter, strikes the bell ! 
Thy love, which doth each part exanimate ; 
And in each quarter, strikes his forces fell. 

That Hammer and great Bell, which end each hour ! 
Death, my life's victor, sent by thy love's power. 


Hy beauty is the Sun, which guides my day, 
And with his beams, to my world's life gives 

light ; 

With whose sweet favour, all my fancies play, 
And as birds singing, still enchant my sight. 
But when I seek to get my love's chief pleasure, 
Her frowns are like the night led by the Lamp 
Of Phcebe's chaste desires; whilst, without leisure, 
Graces like Stars, through all her face encamp. 
Then all my Fancy's birds lie whisht, for fear ; 
Soon as her frowns procure their shady sorrow : 
Saving my heart, which secret shot doth bear, 
And nature from the nightingale doth borrow ; 
Which from laments, because he will not rest, 
Hath love's thorn-prickle pointed at his breast. 

3 74 Sonnets. Pakthenophil 


B. Barnes. 
? May 1593. 


Air Clytie doth flourish with the Spring; 
And, eftsoons, withered Hke thy golden Hair! 
And lo's violets grow flourishing, [bear! 

But soon defaced ; which thine Eyes semblance 
Anemone with hyacinth, Spring's pride, 

(Like to thy Beauty !) lose their lovely gloss : 
So will thy Cheeks, with graces beautified, 
Return to wrinkles, and to Nature's dross ! 
Roses, as from thy lips, sweet odours send, 

Which herbs (in them whilst juice and virtues rest) 
From some diseases' rigour, life defend : 
These (as Thyself!) once withered, men detest! 
Then love betimes ! These withered flowers of yore 
Revive I Thy beauty lost, returns no more ! 


H ME I sweet beauty lost, returns no more. 

And how I fear mine heart fraught with disdain 1 

Despair of her disdain, casts doubt before ; 

And makes me thus of mine heart's hope 
Ah, me ! nor mine heart's hope, nor help. Despair ! 

Avoid my Fancy ! Fancy's utter bane ! 

My woes' chief worker ! Cause of all my care ! 

Avoid my thoughts ! that Hope may me restore 
To mine heart's heaven, and happiness again ! 

Ah, wilt thou not ? but still depress my thought ! 

Ah, Mistress ! if thy beauty, this hath wrought. 
That proud disdainfulness shall in thee reign : 

Yet, think ! when in thy forehead wrinkles be ; 

Men will disdain thee, then, as thou dost me ! 

t Muy^'593:] AND P A R T 11 E X P H E. S O N N E T S . 375 


HiLST some, the Trojan wars in verse recount, 

And all the Grecian conquerors in fight ; 
Some, valiant Roman wars 'hove stars do mount, 

With all their warlike leaders, men of might : 
Whilst some, of British Arthur's valour sing, 

And register the praise of Charlemagne ; 
And some, of doughty Godfrey tidings bring. 

And some, the German broils, and wars of Spain 
In none of those, myself I wounded find. 

Neither with horseman, nor with man on foot ; 
But from a clear bright eye, one Captain blind 

(Whose puissance to resist, did nothing boot) 
With men in golden arms, and darts of gold, 

Wounded my heart, and all which did behold ! 


NONE but to Prometheus, me compare ! 
From sacred heaven, he stole that holy fire. 
I, from thine eyes, stole fire ! My judgements are 
For to be bound, with chains of strong Desire, 
To that hard rock of thy thrice cruel heart ! 

The ceaseless waves, which on the rocks do dash 
Yet never pierce, but forced, backward start ; 
Those be these endless tears, my cheeks which wash 
The vulture, which is, by my goddess' doom, 
Assigned to feed upon mine endless liver ; 
Despair, by thee procured ! which leaves no room 
For JocuLUS to jest with Cupid's quiver. 

This swallows worlds of livers, spending few ; 
But not content — O god ! shall this be true? 

3/6 Sonnets. P a r t h e n o p ii i l \^\ 

. BarneS" 
May 1593. 


Ie ! fie, fierce Tyrant ! Quench this furious raf;e ! 
O quench this rageous fury, Httle god ! 
Nay, mighty god ! my fury's heat assuage ! 
Nor are thine, little darts, nor brittle rod 1 
Ah, that thou hadst a sweet recuring dart ! 
Or such a rod, as intg health might whip me ! 
With this, to level at my troubled heart ; 
To warn with scourge, that no bright eye might trip me ! " 
Vain words, which vanish with the clouds, why speak I ! 
And bootless options, builded with void air ! 
How oft, enraged in hopeless Passions, break I ! 
How oft, in false vain hope, and blank despair ! 
How oft, left lifeless at thy cloudy frown ! 
How oft, in Passion mounted, and plucked down ! 


Oft, lovely, rose-like lips, conjoined with mine ! 
Breathing out precious incense such ! 
(Such as, at Paphos, smoke to Venus' shrine) 
Making my lips immortal, with their touch ! 
My cheeks, with touch of thy ooft cheeks divine ; 
Thy soft warm cheeks, which Venus favours much ! 

Those arms, such arms ! which me embraced, 
Me, with immortal cincture girding round 

Of everlasting bliss! then bound 
With her enfolded thighs in mine entangled; 
And both in one self-soul placed. 
Made a hermaphrodite, with pleasures ravished ! 
There, heat for heat's, soul for soul's empire wrangled ! 
Why died not I, with love so largely lavished? 
For 'wake (not finding truth of dreams before) 
It secret vexeth ten times more ! 

K. Dame;, 
? May 1593 

\\ A ND P A R TIJ E.\ Of n E. SONNETS. 377 


H, TEN times worse tormented than before ! 
Ten times more pity shouldst thou take of me ! 
I have endured ; then, Sweet ! restore 
That pleasure, which procured this pain ! 
Thou scorn'st my lines! (a Saint, which make of thee !) 
Where true desires of thine hard heart complain, 

There thou, 'hove Stella placed ; 
'Bove Laura ; with ten thousand more installed : 
And now, proud, thinks me graced, 
That am to thee (though merciless!) enthralled. 



|OvE for Europa's love, took shape of Bull ; 
And for Calisto, played Diana's part : 
And in a golden shower, he filled full 
The lap of DanaEj with celestial art. 
Would I were changed but to my Mistress' gloves, 
That those white lovely fingers I might hide ! 
That I might kiss those hands, which mine heart loves ! 
Or else that chain of pearl (her neck's vain pride) 
Made proud with her neck's veins, that I might fold 
About that lovely neck, and her paps tickle ! 
Or her to compass, like a belt of gold ! 
Or that sweet wine, which down her throat doth trickle, 
To kiss her lips, and lie next at her heart, 
Run through her veins, and pass by Pleasure's part ! 

378 Sonnets .Pa r t ii e n o p ii i l \_, \i^y'^'^^-. 


F ALL the Loves were lost, and should be found ; 
And all the Graces' glories were decayed : 
In thee, the Graces' ornaments abound ! 
In me, the Loves, by thy sweet Graces laid ! 
And if the Muses had their voice foregone ; 
And Venus' husband's forge had lost his fire : 
The Muses' voice should, by thy voice, be known ! 
And Vulcan's heat be found in my Desire ! 
I will accuse thee to the gods, of theft ! 
For Pallas' eye, and Venus' rosy cheek, 
And Phcebe's forehead ; which thou hast bereft ! 
Complain of m.e, to Cupid ! Let him seek 
In vain, for me, each where, and in all parts 
For, 'gainst my will, I stole one of his darts. 


That I had no heart ! as I have none. 

(For thou, mine heart's full spirit hast possessed !) 
Then should mine Argument be not of moan ! 

Then under Love's yoke, should I not be pressed ! 
O that without mine eyes I had been born ! 

Then had I not my Mistress' beauty viewed ! 

Then had I never been so far forlorn ! 

Then had I never wept ! Then, never rued \ 
O that I never had been born at all ! 

Or being, had been born of shepherds' brood 

Then should I not in such mischances fall! 
Quiet, my water ; and Content, my food ! 
But now disquieted, and still tormented ; 
With adverse fate, preforce, must rest contented ! 

» liS'lsll'^ ^ A' ^ P ARTIIE X OrUE, S O N N E T S . 



H, SWEET Content ! where is thy mild abode ? 

Is it with Shepherds, and light-hearted Swains, 
I Which sing upon the downs, and pipe abroad, 

Tending their flocks and cattle on the plains ? 
Ah, sweet Content ! where dost thou safely rest ? 

In heaven, with angels ? which the praises sing 

Of Him that made, and rules at His behest. 

The minds and hearts of every living thing. 
Ah, sweet Content ! where doth thine harbour hold ? 

Is it in churches, with Religious Men, 

Which please the gods with prayers manifold ; 

And in their studies meditate it then ? 
Whether thou dost in heaven, or earth appear ; 

Be where thou wilt ! Thou wilt not harbour here ! 


F Cupid keep his quiver in thine eye, 

And shoot at over-daring gazers' hearts ! 

Alas, why be not men afraid ! and fly 

As from Medusa's, doubting after smarts ? 
Ah, when he draws his string, none sees his bow I 

Nor hears his golden-feathered arrows sing ! 

Ay me ! till it be shot, no man doth know ; 

Until his heart be pricked with the sting. 
Like semblance bears the musket in the field J 

It hits, and kills unseen ! till unawares. 

To death, the wounded man his body yield. 
And thus a peasant, Cesar's glory dares. 

This difference left 'twixt Mars his field, and Love's; 

That Cupid's soldier shot, more torture proves ! 

\So Sonnets. P a r t h e n o p ii i l \, ^^y'^^^i 


OuLD GOD (when I beheld thy beauteous face, 
And golden tresses rich with pearl and stone) ! 
Medusa's visage had appeared in place, 
With snaky locks, looking on me alone ! 
Then had her dreadful charming looks me changed 
Into a senseless stone. O, were I senseless ! 
Then rage, through rash regard, had never ranged 
Whereas to Love, I stood disarmed and fenceless. 
Yea, but that divers object of thy face 
In me contrarious operations wrought. 
A moving spirit pricked with Beauty's grace. 
No pity's grace in thee ! which I have sought : 
Which makes me deem, thou did'st Medusa see ! 
And should thyself, a moving marble be. 


He leafless branches of the lifeless boughs, 
Carve Winter's outrage in their withered barks : 
The withered wrinkles in my careful brows. 
Figure from whence they drew those crooked marks ! 
Down from the Thracian mountains, oaks of might 
And lofty firs, into the valley fall : 
Sure sign where Boreas hath usurped his right; 
And that, long there, no Sylvans dally shall. 
Fields, with prodigious inundations drowned ; 
For Neptune's rage, with Amphitrite weep. 
My looks and Passions likewise shew my wound ; 
And how some fair regard did strike it deep. 

These branches, blasted trees, and fields so wat'red ; 
For wrinkles, sighs, and tears, foreshew thine hatred ! 

f May^'sss.'] ^^ ''^'^ -P '-^ ^ THE N o PHE, Sonnets. 38 i 


Hat can these wrinkles and vain tears portend, 

But thine hard favour, and indurate heart ? 

What shew these sighs, which from my soul I send, 

But endless smoke, raised from a fiery smart ? 
Canst thou not pity my deep wounded breast ? 

Canst thou not frame those eyes to cast a smile ? 

Wilt thou, with no sweet sentence make me blest ? 

To make amends, wilt thoii not sport a while ? 
Shall we not, once, with our opposed ey'n, 

In interchange, send golden darts rebated? 

With short reflexion, 'twixt thy brows and mine; 
Whilst love with thee, of my griefs hath debated ? 

Those eyes of love were made for love to see I 

And cast regards on others, not on me ! 


Hose hairs of angels* gold, thy nature's treasure. 

(For thou, by Nature, angel-like art framed !) 
Those lovely brows, broad bridges of sweet pleasure. 

Arch two clear springs of Graces gracious named ; 
There Graces infinite do bathe and sport ! 

Under, on both sides, those two precious hills, 
Where Phcebe and Venus have a several fort. 

Her couch, with snowy lilies, PhcEbe fills, 
But Venus, with red roses, hers adorneth \ 

There, they, with silent tokens, do dispute 
Whilst Phoebe, Venus ,* Venus, Phcebe scorneth ! 

And all the Graces, judgers there sit mute 
To give their verdict ; till great Jove said this, 

" Diana's arrows wound not, like thy kiss ! " 

;82 Sonnets. Parthenophil]^ ? Ma'S^'s^: 


Y Mistress' beauty matched with the Graces' 
'Twixt Phceb' and Juno should be judged there : 
Where She, with mask, had veiled the lovely places; 
And Graces, in like sort, i-masked were. 
But when their lovely beauties were disclosed ; 

" This Nymph," quoth Juno, " all the Graces passeth ! 
For beauteous favours, in her face disposed, 
Love's goddess, in love's graces she surpasseth ! " 
"She doth not pass the Graces ! " Phcebe said, 
" Though in her cheeks the Graces richly sit ; 
For they be subjects to her beauty made. 
The glory for this fair Nymph is most fit ! 

There, in her cheeks, the Graces blush for shame ! 
That in her cheeks to strive, the subjects came." 


Hy did rich Nature, Graces grant to thee ? 

Since Thou art such a niggard of thy grace ! 

Or how can Graces in thy body be ? 

Where neither they, nor pity find a place ! 
Ah, they be Handmaids to thy Beauty's Fury ! 

Making thy face to tyrannize on men. 

Condemned before thy Beauty, by Love's Jury ; 

And by thy frowns, adjudged to Sorrow's Den : 
Grant me some grace ! for Thou, with grace art wealthy ; 

And kindly may'st afford some gracious thing. 

Mine hopes all, as my mind, weak and unhealthy ; 
All her looks gracious, yet no grace do bring 

To me, poor wretch ! Yet be the Graces there ! 

But I, the Furies in my breast do bear ! 

? MayT593-] ''' '^' ^ P A R T If E X P II E. S O N X E T S . 383 


Ease, over-tired Muses! to complain! 
In vain, thou pours out words! in vain, thy tears! 
In vain, thou writes thy verses ! all in vain ! 
For to the rocks and wall, which never hears. 
Thou speakes ! and sendes complaints, which find no grace ! 
But why compare I thee to rocks, and walls ? 
Yes, thou descendes from stones and rocks, by race ! 
But rocks will answer to the latter calls. 
Yea, rocks will speak each sentence's last word, 
And in each syllable of that word agree ; 
But thou, nor last, nor first, wilt me afford ! 
Hath Pride, or Nature, bred this fault in thee ? 

Nature and Pride have wrought in thee these evils : 
For women are, by Nature, proud as devils! 



OvE is a name too lovely for the god ! 

He naked goes, red coloured in his skin, 

And bare, all as a boy fit for a rod. 

Hence into Afric ! There, seek out thy kin 
Amongst the Moors! and swarthy men of Ind I 

Me, thou, of joys and sweet content hast hindered ! 

Hast thou consumed me ! and art of my kind ? 

Hast thou enraged me ! yet art of my kindred? 
Nay, Ismarus, or Rhodope thy father! 

Or craggy Caucasus, thy crabbed sire ! 

Vesuvius, else ? or was it Etna rather? 
For thou, how many dost consume with fire ! 

Fierce tigers, wolves, and panthers gave thee suck ! 

For lovely Venus had not such evil luck ! 

384 Sonnet s. P a r t ii e x p h i l [. May^'sJ]! 


E BLIND, mine Eyes ! which saw that stormy frown. 
Wither, long-watering Lips ! which may not kiss. 
Pine, Arms ! which wished-for sweet embraces miss. 
And upright parts of pleasure ! fall you down. 
Waste, wanton tender Thighs ! Consume for this ; 
To her thigh-elms, that you were not made vines ! 
And my long pleasure in her body grafted. 
But, at my pleasure, her sweet thought repines. 
My heart, with her fair colours, should be wafted 
Throughout this ocean of my deep despair ; 
Why do I longer live ? but me prepare 
My life, together with my joys, to finish ! 

And, long ere this, had I died, with my care ; 
But hope of joys to come, did all diminish. 


Ow can I live in mind's or body's health, 

When all four Elements, my griefs conspire ? 

Of all heart's joys depriving me, by stealth, 

All yielding poisons to my long Desire. 
The Fire, with heat's extremes mine heart enraging. 

Water, in tears, from Despair's fountain flowing. 

My soul in sighs. Air to Love's soul engaging. 

My Fancy's coals, Earth's melancholy blowing. 
Thus these, by Nature, made for my relief; 

Through that bold charge of thine imperious eye ! 

Turn all their graces into bitter grief. 
As I were dead, should any of them die ! 

And they, my body's substance, all be sick ; 

It follows, then, I cannot long be quick ! 

l^i^yT^-i^ AND P A /i THE A^oi I/E. SoNNETS. 385 


He proudest Planet in his highest sphere, 

Saturn, enthronist in thy frowning brows ! 

Next awful Jove, thy majesty doth bear! 

And unto dreadful Mars, thy courage bows ! 
Drawn from thy noble grandfathers of might. 

Amongst the laurel-crowned Poets sweet, 

And sweet Musicians, take the place by right ! 

For Phoebus, with thy graces thought it meet. 
Venus doth sit upon thy lips, and chin ! 

And Hermes hath enriched thy wits divine ! 

Phoebe with chaste desires, thine heart did win ! 
The Planets thus to thee, their powers resign ! 

Whom Planets honour thus, is any such ? 

My Muse, then, cannot honour her too much I 


OvETous Eyes ! What did you late behold ? 

My Rival graced with a sun-bright smile ! 

Where he, with secret signs, was sweetly told 

Her thoughts ; with winks, which all men might 
beguile ! 
Audacious, did I see him kiss that hand 

Which holds the reins of my unbridled heart! 

And, softly wringing it, did closely stand 

Courting with love terms, and in lover's art I 
Next (with his fingers kissed) he touched her middle ! 

Then saucy, (with presumption uncontrolled) 

To hers, from his eyes, sent regards by riddle ! 
At length, he kissed her cheek ! Ah me I so bold 1 

To bandy with bel-guards in interchange. 

Blind mine eyes, Envy ! that they may not range ! 

Fng. G/tR. V. ge 

386 Sonnets. Parthenophil\j u^yll^^. 


|ONG-wished for Death ! sent by my Mistress' doom; 
Hold ! Take thy prisoner, full resolved to die ! 
But first as chief, and in the highest room, 
My Soul, to heaven I do bequeath on high ; 
Now^ ready to be severed from Thy love 1 

My Sighs, to air ! to crystal springs, my Tears ! 
My sad Complaints (which Thee could never move ! 
To mountains desolate and deaf! My Fears, 
To lambs beset with lions ! My Despair, 

To night, and irksome dungeons full of dread ! 
Then shalt Thou find (when I am past this care) 
My torments, which thy cruelties have bred, 

In heavens, clouds, springs, hard mountains, lambs, and 

Here, once united ; then, dissevered quite. 


Kingly Jealousy ! which canst admit 
No thought of compeers in thine high Desire ! 
Love's bastard daughter, for true-loves unfit. 
Scalding men's hearts with force of secret fire ! 
Thou poisoned Canker of much beauteous Love ! 
Fostered with Envy's paps, with wrathful rage ! 
Thou (which dost still thine own destruction move) 
With eagle's eyes, which secret watch doth wage ! 
With peacock's feet, to steal in unawares ! 

With Progne's wings, to false suspect which flies ! 
Which virtues hold in durance, rashly dares ! 
Provoker and maintainer of vain lies ! 

Who, with rich virtues and fair love possessed, 
Causeless ! hast All, to thine heart's hell addressed 

B. Barne;,. 
? May 1593 

\\ A N D P A R TH E NOP H E. S O N N E T S. 387 


He Chariot, with the Steed is drawn along. 
Ships, winged with Winds, swift hover on the waves. 
The stubborn Ploughs are hauled with Oxen strong. 
Hard Adamant, the strongest Iron craves. 
But I am with thy beauty strongly forced ; 

Which, full of courage, draws me like the Steed. 
Those Winds, thy spirit ; whence cannot be divorced. 
My heart the Ship, from danger never freed. 
That strong conceit on thy sweet beauty lade ; 

The strong-necked Ox which draws my Fancy's Plow, 
Thine heart that Adamant, whose force hath made 
My strong desires stand subject unto you ! 

Would I were Horse, Ox, Adamant, or Wind ! 
Then had I never cared for Womankind. 


Ark Night ! Black Image of my foul Despair ! 
With grievous fancies, cease to vex my soul ! 
With pain, sore smart, hot fires, cold fears, long 
care ! 

(Too much, alas, this ceaseless stone to roll). 
My days be spent in penning thy sweet praises I 
In pleading to thy beauty, never matched ! 
In looking on thy face ! whose sight amazes 
My Sense; and thus my long days be despatched. 
But Night (forth from the misty region rising). 
Fancies, with Fear, and sad Despair, doth send ! 
Mine heart, with horror, and vain thoughts agrising. 
And thus the fearful tedious nights I spend ! 
Wishing the noon, to me were silent night ; 
And shades nocturnal, turned to daylight. 

388 Sonnets. ParthenophilIj^ May^'w^ 


Y SWEET Parthenophe ! within thy face, 

My Passions' Calendar may plain be read ! 

The Golden Number told upon thine head ! 

The Sun days (which in card, I holy place, 
And which divinely bless me with their grace) 

Thy cheerful Smiles, which can recall the dead ! 

My Working days, thy Frowns, from favours fled ! 

Which set a work the furies in my breast. 
These days are six to one more than the rest. 

My Leap Year is (O when is that Leap Year ?) 

When all my cares I overleap, and feast 
With her, fruition ! whom I hold most dear. 

And if some Calendars, the truth tell me ; 

Once in few years, that happy Leap shall be ! 


Rom East's bed rosy, whence Aurora riseth ; 
Be thy cheeks figured, which their beams display 
In smiles ! whose sight mine heart with joy suf- 
priseth ; 

And which my Fancy's flowers do fair array. 
Cleared with the gracious dews of her regard. 

The West, whence evening comes ; her frowning brow, 
Where Discontentment ploughs his furrows hard ! 
(There doth She bury her affections now !) 

The North, whence storms with mists and frosts proceed; 
My black Despair ! long Sorrows ! and cold Fear ! 
The South, whence showers, in great abundance breed, 
And where hot sun doth to meridian rear ; 
My Eyes, whose object nought but tears require 1 
And my soft Heart, consumed with rage of fire ! 

? May"s93:] ^^^ P A R T II E N P H E. S O N N E T S. 389 


Fiery Rage ! when wilt thou be consumed ? 

Thou, that hast me consumed, in such sort 

As never was, poor wretch ! (which so presumed) 

But for surveying of that beauteous Fort ! 
Kept in continual durance, and enchained 

With hot desires, which have my body pined ; 

My mind, from pleasures and content restrained ; 

My thoughts, to Care, and Sorrow's Ward assigned : 
There, with continual melancholy placed, 

In dismal horror, and continual fear, 

I pass these irksome hours ! scorned and disgraced 
Of her ; whose cruelty no breast can bear ! 

No thought endure ! no tortures can outmatch ! 

Then burn on. Rage of Fire ! but me despatch ! 


Urn on, sweet Fire ! For I live by that fuel, 
Whose smoke is as an incense to my soul ! 
Each sigh prolongs my smart. Be fierce and cruel, 
My fair Parthenophe ! Frown and control ! 
Vex ! torture ! scald ! disgrace me ! Do thy will ! 

Stop up thine ears! With flint, immure thine heart ! 
And kill me with thy looks, if they would kill ! 

Thine eyes (those crystal phials which impart 
The perfect balm to my dead-wounded breast !) 

Thine eyes, the quivers, whence those darts were drawn, 
Which me, to thy love's bondage have addresst. 

Thy smile, and frown ! night star, and daylight's dawn ! 
Burn on ! Frown on ! Vex ! Stop thine ears ! Torment me ! 
More, for thy beauty borne ! would not repent me. 

390 Sonnets. Parthenopiiil\j li^yl'^i 


Ithin thine eyes, mine heart takes all his rest ! 
In which, still sleeping, all my sense is drowned. 
The dreams, with which my senses are opprest, 
Be thousand lovely fancies turning round 

The restless wheel of my much busy brain. 

The morning ; which from resting doth awake me, 
Thy beauty ! banished from my sight again, 
When I to long melancholy betake me. 

Then full of errors, all my dreams I find ! 
And in their kinds contrarious, till the day 
(Which is her beauty) set on work my mind ; 

Which never will cease labour ! never stay ! 

And thus my pleasures are but dreams with me ; 
Whilst mine hot fevers, pains quotidian be. 


Hat be those hairs dyed like the marigold ? 

Echo, Gold ! 

What is that brow, whose frown make any moan? 

Echo, Anemone ! 

What were her eyes, when the great lords controlled ? 

Echo, Rolled ! 

What be they, when from them, be loves thrown ? 

Echo, Love's throne! 
What were her cheeks (when blushes rose) like ? 

Echo, Rose-like ! 

What are those lips, which 'hove pearls' rew be ? 

Echo, Ruby ! 

Her ivory shoulders, what be those like ? 

Echo, Those like ! 

\^^^i] AND Pa R7 nENoniE, Sonnets. 391 

What saints are like her ? speak, if you be ! 

Echo, Few be ! 

Thou dwell'st in rocks, hart-like ! somewhat then ? 

Echo, What then ? 
And rocks dwell in her heart ! is 'tis true ? 

Echo, Tistrue! 

Whom she loves best ? know this, cannot men 1 

Echo, Not men ! 

Pass him, she loathes ! Then I dismiss you ! 

Echo, Miss you ! 

What sex to whom, men sue so vain much ? 

Echo, Vain much ! 
Furies there fires, and I complain such ? 

Echo, Plain such ! 


Y Mistress' Arms, are these ; fair, clear, and bright. 
Argent in midst, where is an Ogress set. 
Within an azure ann'let, placed right. 
The Crest, two golden bows, almost near met: 

And by this Crest, her power abroad is known. 
These Arms, She beareth in the Field of Love, 
By bloody colours, where Love's wrath is shown : 
But in kind Passion, milder than the dove, 

Her goodly silver ensign. She displays, 
Semi de roses : at whose lovely sight, 
All lovers are subdued ; and vanquished, praise 
Those glorious colours, under which they fight, 

I, by these Arms, her captive thrall was made ! 
And to those Colours, in that Field, betrayed ! 

392 Sonnets 

P A RTH E N PHI L [, May^'593: 


Hese bitter gusts, which vex my troubled seas, 
And move with force, my sorrow's floods to flow ; 
My Fancy's ship tost here and there by these, 
Still floats in danger, ranging to and fro. 
How fears my Thoughts' swift pinnace, thine hard rock ! 
Thine heart's hard rock, least thou mine Heart (his pilot) 
Together with himself, should rashly knock 
And being quite dead-stricken, then should cry late, . 
Ah me ! " too late to thy remorseless self. 
Now when thy mercies all been banished, 
And blown upon thine hard rock's ruthless shelf; 
My soul in sighs is spent and vanished. 
Be pitiful, alas ! and take remorse ! 
Thy beauty too much practiseth his force 1 


Ilt thou know wonders, by thy beauty wrought ? 
Behold (not seen) an endless burning fire 
Of Fancy's fuel ! kindled with a thought ! 
Without a flame, yet still inflamed higher! 
No flames' appearance, yet continual smoke ! 
Drawn cool, to kindle ; breathed out hot again I 
Two diamonds, which this secret fire provoke ; 
Making two crystals, with their heat, to rain ! 
A skin, where beauteous Graces rest at ease ! 
A tongue, whose sweetness mazes all the Muses ! 
And yet, a heart of marble matched with these ! 
A tongue, besides, which sweet replies refuses ! 
These wonders, by thy beauty wrought alone. 
Through thy proud eye, which made thine heart a stone. 

B.Barnes.-i ,y^ Parjhenofhe. Sonnets. 393 

T May 1593J 


Egs Love ! which whilom was a deity ? 

I Ust no such proud beggars at my gate ! 

For alms, he, 'mongst cold Arctic folk doth wait; 

And sunburnt Moors, in contrariety : 
Yet sweats, nor freezes more ! Then is it piety 

To be remorseful at his bare estate ! 

His reach, he racketh at a higher rate. 

He joins with proudest in society ! 
His eyes are blind, forsooth ! and men must pity 

A naked poor boy, which doth no man harm ! 

He is not blind ! Such beggar boys be witty! 
For he marks, hits, and wounds hearts with his arm 

Nor coldest North can stop his naked race ; 

For where he comes, he warmeth every place ! 


Orth from mine eyes, with full tide, flows a river ; 
And in thine eyes, two sparkling chrysolites. 
Mine eye, still covet to behold those lights. 
Thine eye, still filled with arrows, is Love's Quiver ! 
Through mine eye, thine eyes' fire inflames my liver. 
Mine eyes, in heart, thine eyes' clear fancies write ; 
Thus is thine eye to me, my fancies giver ! 
Which from thine eyes, to mine eyes take their flight. 
Then pierce the secret centre of my heart ; 
And feed my fancies with inflamed fuel ! 
This only grieves ! Mine eyes had not that art 
Thine to transpierce : thy nature was so cruel 1 
But eyes and fancies, in this, triumph make ; 
That they were blind and raging, for her sake ! 

394 Sonnets. Parthenopiiil \j \^^'^^^i. 


Hou bright beam-spreading Love's thrice happy 
Star ! 
Th' Arcadian Shepherd's Astrophel's clear guide ! 
Thou that, on swift-winged Pegasus, dost ride, 
Aurora's harbinger ! Surpassing, far ! 
Aurora carried in her rosy car. 

Bright Planet! Teller of clear evening-tide! 
Star of all stars ! Fair favoured night's chief pride ! 
Which day, from night ; and night, from day dost bar ! 
Thou that hast worlds of hearts, with thine eye's glance. 
To thy love's pleasing bondage, taken thrall ! 
Behold (where Graces, in love's circles dance !) 
Of two clear stars, outsparkling Planets all ! 
For stars, her beauty's arrow-bearers be ! 
Then be the subjects ; and superior. She ! 


He Sun in Pisces; Venus did intend 
To seek sick Flora; whose soil (since by Kind 
Titan to th'Antipodes, his beams resigned) 
No pleasant flowers, to welcome her did send. 
To whom, for need, Parthenophe did lend 

At Nature's suit, rich Heliochrise, which shined 
In her fair hair ; white lilies which combined 
With her high-smoothed brows, which bent, love bend. 
Violets from eyes, sweet blushing eglantine 

From her clear cheeks, and from her lips, sweet roses. 
Thus Venus' Paradise was made divine 
Which such, as Nature in my Lady closes. 

Then, since with her, LovE's Queen was glorified ! 
Why was not my sweet Lady deified ? 



Why should Envy, with sweet Love consort ? 
But that, with Love's excess. Seven Sins unite ! 
Pride, that, in high respect of my dehght, 
I scorn all others ! Lust, that with disport 
In thought of her, I sometimes take comfort ! 
Wrath, that, with those, in secret heart I fight, 
Which smile on her ! and Envy, that, I spite 
Such meats and wines, as to her lips resort 
And touch that tongue, which I can never kiss ! 
Sloth, that, secure in too much love, I sleep; 
And nuzzled so, am to be freed remiss ! 
And Covetous, I never mean can keep 
In craving, wishing, and in working this ; 
Though still I kiss and touch, still touch and kiss ! 


He Sun, my Lady's Beauty represents ! 
Whose fiery-pointed beams each creature heats : 
S uch force her grace, on whom it counterbeats, 
Doth practice ; which the patient still torments. 
And to her virtues, the bright Moon assents ; 
With whose pure Chastity, my love she threats \ 
Whose thought itself In her cool circle seats. 
And as the Moon, her bright habiliments. 
Of her bright brother Phcebus, borroweth ; 
So from her beauty, doth her chaste desire. 
Her brightness draw. For which, none dare aspire 
To tempt so rare a beauty. Yet forgive ! 
He that, for thy sake ! so long sorroweth. 
Cannot but longer love, if longer live ! 

39^ Sonnets. P a r t h e n o p h i l [? Ma^^^gji 


His careful head, with divers thoughts distressed, 
My Fancy's Chronicler ! my Sorrow's Muse ! 
These watchful eyes, whose heedless aim I curse, 
Love's Sentinels ! and Fountains of Unrest ! 
This tongue still trembling, Herald fit addressed 
To my Love's grief ! (than any torment worse ! ) 
This heart, true Fortress of my spotless love, 
And rageous Furnace of my long desire ! 
Of these, by Nature, am I not possessed 
(Though Nature, their first means in me did move) 
But thou, dear Sweet ! with thy love's holy fire. 
My head. Grief's Anvil made ! with cares oppressed ; 
Mine eyes, a Spring ! my tongue, a Leaf wind-shaken ! 
My heart, a wasteful Wilderness forsaken ! 


Leading for pity to my Mistress' eyes ; 
Urging on duty favours as deserts ; 
Complaining mine hid flames, and secret smarts : 
She, with disdainful grace, in jest, replies, 
" Her eyes were never made man's enemies ! " 
Then me with my conceit she overthwarts. 
Urging my Fancy (which vain thoughts imparts) 
To be the causer of mine injuries, 
Saying, ** I am not vexed, as I complained ! 
How Melancholy bred this light conceit ! " 
Hard-hearted Mistress ! Canst thou think I feigned ? 
That I, with fancies vain, vain woe repeat? 

Ah, no ! For though thine eyes none else offend ; 
Yet by thine Eyes and " Noes ! " my woes want end ! 

'B.Ti:^rvi^^-^ A ^j n P A R 7 n E N P H E . SONNETS. 397 

? May 1593 J 


Ad I been banished from the native soil, 
Where, with my life, I first received light ! 
For my first cradles, had my tomb been dight ! 
Or changed my pleasure for a ceaseless toil ! 
Had I for nurse, been left to lion's spoil ! 
Had I for freedom, dwelt in shady night, 
Cooped up in loathsome dungeons from men's sight ! 
These first desires, which in my breast did boil, 
From which, thy loves (Unkind !) thou banished ! 
Had not been such an exile to my bliss. 
If life, with my love's infancy, were vanished ; 
It had not been so sore a death as this, 
If lionesses were, instead of nurses ; 
Or night, for day ! Thine hate deserves more curses ! 


AiN gallants ! whose much longing spirits tickle ; 
Whose brains swell with abundance of much wit, 
And would be touched fain with an amorous fit : 
O lend your eyes, and bend your fancies fickle ! 
You, whom Affection's dart did never prickle ! 
You, which hold lovers, fools; and argue it! 
Gaze on my Sun ! and if tears do not trickle 
From your much mastered eyes (where Fancies sit) 
Then, Eagles I will I term you, for your eyes ; 
But Bears ! or Tigers ! for your savage hearts 1 
But, if it chance, such fountains should arise, 
And you made like partakers of my smarts ; 
Her, for her piercing eyes, an Eagle, name ! 
But, for her heart, a Tiger, never tame ! 

\gS Sonnets. Par t ii e n o p h i l [j May'isgj! 


Ature's pride, Love's pearl, Virtue's perfection, 
In sweetness, beauty, grace, 
Of body, face, affection 

Hath glory, brightness, place 

In rosy cheeks, clear eyes, and heavenly mind ; 
All which, with wonder, honour, praise, take race 
To charm, to shine, to fly, with Fame's protection. 

Mine heart the first, mine eyes next, third my thought 
Did wound, did blind, did bind ; 
Which grieved, obscured, and wrought 
Heart, eyes, and senses with such imperfection. 
That in their former comfort, sight, and kind 

They moved, gazed, and sought. 
Yet found not, in what order, sort, and case 
Of tears, plaints, sighs, with seas, with murmur, wind 

To find, to get, t' embrace 
Nature's pride, Love's pearl, Virtue's perfection. 


Leep Phoebus still, in glaucy Thetis' lap ! 

Jove's eagle's piercing eyes, be blind. 
Soft things whose touch is tickle to the mind. 
Give no like touch, all joys in one to wrap. 

All instruments, all birds and voices 
Make no such heavenly music in their kind. 
No fruits have such sweet sap, 
No root such juices, 

No balm so much rejoices. 
O breath, exceeding every rich perfume ! 

R.Barnes.-! . y/, /?^A>7'//£.V0P//^. SONNETS. 399 
? May 1S93J 

For love, all pleasures in a Kiss did lap. 
Her eyes did give bright glances. 
Sight is no sight, all light with that consume. 

She touched my cheek ! at which touch, mine heart dances. 
Mine eyes, in privy combat, did presume, 

Charging my hands, to charge her middle ; 
Whilst they threw wounding darts, and healing lances. 
She kissed and spoke, at once, a riddle, 

But such sweet meaning in dark sense. 
As shewed the drift of her dear sweet pretence, 
More pleasing than the chord of harp or lute. 
On heavenly cherries then I feed, 
Whose sap deliciouser than angels' food. 
Whose breath more sweet than gum, herb, flower, or hood. 
O kiss ! that did all sense exceed ! 
No man can speak those joys 1 Then, Muse, be mute ! 
But say ! for sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch ; 
In any one thing, was there ever such ? 


Nvious air, all Nature's public nurse. 
Lend to my hfe, no spirit! 
Not that I prosper worse 
Than erst of yore ; for I, the state inherit, 
Which gods in Paradise, 'bove man demerit : 
But for I highly scorn 
Thy common vapour should 
With her sweet breath immix ! I cannot bear it ! 
Cold air's infusion cannot be foreborn ; 
O kiss ! O soul, which could 

400 Sonnets. P a r t ii e n o p h i l [, M^^^gj'. 

All wailings have outworn ! 
Angel of Bliss ! which cheers me night and morn ! 
Sweet Cloud ! which now, with my soul dost enfold ! 

Salve to my Soul ! once sick. 

Let men in Inde iborn 
Cease boasting of rich drugs, and sweet perfume ! 
Egyptian gums, and odours Arabic, 

I loath 1 and wood, dear sold. 

From myrrh and cypress torn ! 
Tarry, sweet kiss ! Do not in clouds consume ! 

Yet can I feel thy spirit moving quick. 
O why should air presume 

To be her spirit's rival ? 
What do I speak ? Nor am I lunatic ! 
I cannot live ; else would I not assume 

Cold air, to contrive all 

My sorrows, with immixion. 
Then die ! whilst this sweet spirit thee doth prick ! 
Whilst thy sweet comfort's kisses are alive all ! 

And love's sweet jurisdiction 

Will make thee die possessed 
Of all heaven's joys ; which, for most comfort, strive all ! 
Lest Death, to Pleasure should give interdiction, 

Ah let my lips be pressed ! 

And, with continual kisses, 
Pour everlasting spirit to my life . 
So, shall I always live ! so, still be blessed ! 

Kiss still ! and make no misses ! 

Double ! redouble kisses ! 
Murmur affections ! War in pleasing strife! 
Press lips ! Lips, rest oppressed ! 

This Passion is no fiction. 

R Rarnes, 

? M 

ri^'593-] ^ ^"^'^ Par the .v of he . S u N e r 3 . 40 1 


Fter Aurora's blush, the sun arose 
And spread his beams ! 
With whose clear gleams 

My prickless rosebud veils his purple leaves ! 
In whose sweet folds, Morning did pearls enclose, 
Where sun his beams, in orb-like circle weaves, 

And then t'enrich, stole those 
Nature's beauty, Phoebus' virtue, Love's incense; 
Whose favour, sap, and savour, my sense 'reaves. 

My Muse had these for themes : 
They, to my Muse ; my Muse, to them, defence. 
Phcebus, sometimes. Love's Oracles sends thence. 

Thus by my sun, a rose, 

(Though a sweet rose prickless !) 
Prickles arose ; dear prickle ! 
Which me diseaseth much, though I be sickless. 

Nought me of joy bereaves ; '»• 
Save favour, sap, and favour, all be fickle. 
Blush not for shame that thy sun spread his wings 

My soul in sunder cleaves ! 
After Aurora's blush, the sun arose ! 

J ■>*«! 


Hy love's conceits are wound about mine heart ! 
Thy love itself within mine heart, a wound ! 

Thy torches all a row stick, 
Which thy sweet grace about mine heart halh bound ' 
There, gleaming arrows stick in every part, 

Which unto my marrow prick. 
Thy beauty's fancy to mine heart is thrall ; 

Mine heart, thy beauty's thrall is found I 

ii.vr,. Gar. V. 


402 Sonnets. P a r t ii e n o r ii i l [? May'1593: 

And thou mine heart a Bulwark art ! 
Conquered by Beauty ! battered to the ground ! 

And yet though conquered will not yield at all. 
For in that conflict, though I fall, 
Yet I myself a conqueror repute 

In fight continual, like victorious mart 
Yet ever yield, as ever overthrown. 
To be, still, prisoner ! is my suit. 
I will be, still, thy captive known ! 
Such pleasing Servitude 
Victorious Conquest is, and Fortitude 1 


Y Love, alas, is sick ! Fie, envious Sickness ! 
That, at her breast (where rest all joys and ease). 
Thou shouldst take such despite, her to displease. 
In whom, all virtue's health hath quickness ! 
Thou durst not come in living likeness ! 
For hadst thou come, thou couldst not her disease ! 
Her beauty would not let thee press ! 
Sweet graces, which continually attend her, 

At her short breath, breathe short ! and sigh so deep ! 
Which Sickness's sharp furies might appease : 

Both Loves and Graces strive to mend her. 
O never let me rest ; but sigh and weep ! 
Never but weep and sigh ! " Sick is my Love ; 
And I love-sick ! Yet physic may befriend her ! 
But what shall my disease remove ? " 

May"l:59s'] ^ ^^ ^ P A R Til E X PH E. S O N N E T S . 403 


Slept, when (underneath a laurel shade, 
My face upreared aloft unto the heaven) 
Methought I heard this spoken in a sweaven, 
" Nature, on earth, Love's miracle hath made ! " 

With this, methought, upon a bank was laid 
An earthly body which was framed in heaven, 
To whom, such graces (by the Graces given) 
Sweet music in their several organs played. 

In chief, the silent music of her eye 

Softly recorded, with heaven's harmony. 
Drew down Urania from celestial sphere ; 

Who mazed, at mazy turning of her ey'n, 
(To make Divine perfection) glazed there 
Those eyes, with clearest substance crystalline. 


Hen this celestial goddess had indued 
Her eyes with spheric revolution, 

Vesta, with the next gift ensued, 

And lent to Nature that twice sacred fire, 

To which, once, Japhet's offspring did aspire. 

Which made a dissolution 
Of a strange ore, engendered by the sun. 

In grace, and worth more pure than gold, 
Which ('gainst the Cyprian triumphs should be done) 
Gilded those wheels, which Cupid's chariot rolled. 


N CENTRE of these Stars of Love, 
('Bove all conceits in man's capacity,) 

An orient jet which did not move. 
To Cupid's chariot wheel, made for the naffe, 

404 Sonnets. P a r t ii e n f ii i l [, m^;?',''"' 


Was fixed ; which could, with mild rapacity, 
Of lighter lovers, draw the lighter chaff. 

This, shadow gives to clearer light, 
In which, as in a mirrold, there was framed 
For those (which love's conditions treat upon) 

A glass which should give semblance right 
Of all their physiognomies impassionate. 
Those hearts, which tyrant Love doth beat upon, 

May here behold, what Cupid works ! 
Yielding in it, that figure fashionate 
Which in the jetty mirror lurks. 


fHcEBUS, rich father of eternal light ! 

And in his hand, a wreath of Heliochrise 

He brought, to beautify those tresses. 
Whose train, whose softness, and whose gloss 

more bright, 
Apollo's locks did overprize. 
Thus, with this garland, whiles her brows he blesses 

The golden shadow, with his tincture, 
Coloured her locks, I gilded with the cincture. 


Hus, as She was, 'bove human glory graced. 
The Saint, methought, departed ; 
And suddenly upon her feet, she started. 
Juno beheld, and fain would have defaced 
That female miracle ! proud Nature's wonder ! 
Least Jove, through heaven's clear windows, should e§py her; 

And (for her beauty) Juno's love neglect ! 
Down she descends ; and as she walked by her, 
A branch of Lilies, Juno tears in sunder. 

» MiJ^'"""] ^ ^' ^ P ^i RT iTR xo p II E. Sonnets. 405 

Then, from her sphere, did Venus down reflect, 

Lest Mars, by chance, her beauty should affect. 
And with a branch of Roses 
She beat upon her face ! Then Juno closes ! 

And with white lilies, did her beauty chasten. 
But lovely Graces, in memorial. 
Let both the Rose and Lily's colour fall 

Within her cheeks, which, to be foremost hasten. 


HiLES these two wrathful goddesses did rage. 

The little god of might 
(Such as might fitter seem with cranes to fight. 
Than, with his bow, to vanquish gods and kings) 

In a cherry tree sat smiling; 
And lightly waving, with his motley wings, 
(Fair wings, in beauty ! boys and girls beguiling !) 
And cherry garlands, with his hands compiling : 

Laughing, he leaped light 
Unto the Nymph, to try which way best might 
Her cheer; and, with a cherry branch, he bobbed! 

But her soft lovely lips, 
The cherries, of their ruddy ruby robbed ! 

Eftsoons, he, to his quiver skips 
And brings those bottles, whence his mother sips 

Her Nectar of Delight ; 
Which in her bosom, claimed place by right. 


Dare not speak of that thrice holy hill, 

Which, spread with silver lilies, lies ; 

Nor of those violets which void veins full fill, 
Nor of that maiJc on love's hill-lop : 

4o6 Sonnets. P a r t ii e n o r h j l [, m "f '""; 

These secrets must not be surveyed with eyes ! 

No creature may those flowers crop ! 

Nor bathe in that clear fountain, 
Where none but Phosbe with chaste virgins wash ! 

In bottom of that sacred mountain — 
But, whither, now ? Thy verses overlash ! 

SE ST I N E I . 

Hen I waked out of dreaming, 
Looking all about the garden, 
Sweet Parthenophe was walking: 
O what fortune brought her hither ! 
She much fairer than that Nymph, 
Which was beat with rose and lilies. 

Her cheeks exceed the rose and lilies. 
I was fortunate in dreaming 
Of so beautiful a Nymph. 
To this happy blessed garden, 
Come, you Nymphs ! come, Fairies ! hither. 
Wonder Nature's Wonder walking ! 

So She seemed, in her walking, 
As she would make rose and lilies 
Ever flourish. O, but hither 
Hark! (for I beheld it dreaming) 
Lilies blushed within the garden. 
Stained with beauties of that Nymph. 

The Rose for anger at that Nymph 
Was pale! and, as She went on walking, 
When She gathered in the garden, 
Tears came from the Rose and Lilies ! 
As they sighed, their breath, in dreaming 
I could well perceive hither. 

^Iay^''593.■] -'^ ^ D P A R T 11 E N p II E . Sonnets. 407 

When Parthenophe came hither. 
At the presence of that Nymph, 
(That hill was heaven ! where I lay dreaming) 
But when I had espied her walking, 
And in hand her Rose and Lilies 
As sacrifice given by that garden ; 

(To Love, stood sacred that fair garden ! ) 
I dared the Nymphs to hasten hither. 
Make homage to the Rose and Lilies ! 
Which are sacred to my Nymph. 
Wonder, when you see her walking ! 
(Might I see her, but in dreaming !) 

Even the fancy ot that Nymph 
Would make me, night and day, come hither, 
To sleep in this thrice happy garden. 


Old ! matchless Mirror of all Womankind ! 

These Pens and Sonnets, servants of thy praise ! 

Placed in a world of graces, which amaze 

All young beholders, through Desire blind. 
Thou, to whom conquered Cupid hath resigned 

His bow and darts, during thy sunny days! 

Through thine eyes' force enfeebled by the rays 

Which wonderers, to their cost, in thine eyes find ! 
That there, with beauty's excellence unable. 

To write, or bear, my pens, and books refuse ; 

Thine endless graces are so amiable ! 
Passing the spirit of mine humble Muse. 

So that the more I write, more graces rise ! 

Which mine astonished Muse cannot comprise. 










Hy did the milk, which first Alcides 
Inp;end'ring with Cybele, breed the h'ly ? 
Th' Assyrian hunter's blood, why hath it 

The rose with red ? Why did the daf- 

Spring from Narcissus' self-conceited love ? 
Why did great Jove, for thePoeneian cow, 
Devise the marble coloured violet ? 
Or what for Phcebus' love, from mountains hilly 
Did hyacinth to rosy blushes move ? 
Since my sweet Mistress, under Phgedus' brow, 
Juno's and fair Adonis' flowers hath set, 

Adown her neck, Narcissus's gold doth bow, 
lo's grey violets in her crystal lights 
Th'CEbalian boy's complexion still alights 
Upon her hj^acinthine lips, like ruby. 
And with love's purest sanguine, Cupid writes 

? May^™93•] P A R 7 II E N O P 11 1 L . ElEGIES. 409 

The praise of beauty, through her veins which blue be 
Conducted through love's sluice, to thy face rosy, 
Where doves and redbreasts sit for Venus' rights. 
In sign that I to Thee, will ever true be ; 
The rose and lilies shall adorn my posy ! 
The violets and hyacinths shall knit 
With daffodil, which shall embellish it ! 
Such heavenly flowers, in earthly posies few be ! 

That, some time, thou saw mine endless fits; 
When I have somewhat of thy beauty pondered ! 
I Thou could not be persuaded that my wits 
Could once retire so far from Sense asundered ! 
Furies, themselves, have at my Passions wondered ! 
Yet thou, Parthenophe ! well pleased, sits, 
Whilst in me, so thy moisture's heat hath thundered, 
And thine eyes' darts, at every Colon, hits 
My soul with double pricks, which mine heart splits : 
Whose fainting breath, with sighing Commas broken, 
Draws on the sentence of my death, by pauses ; 
Ever prolonging out mine endless clauses 
With " Ifs " Parenthesis, yet find no token 
When with my grief, I should stand even or odd. ■ 
My life still making preparations, 
Through thy love's darts, to bear the Period; 
Yet stumbleth on Interrogations ! 

4IO Elegies. Parthenophil\, Ma?^™?^ 

These are those scholar-like vexations 

Which grieve me, when those studies I apply. 
I miss my lesson still ! but, with love's rod, 
For each small accent sounded but awry, 

Am I tormented ! Yet, I cannot die ! 


Weet thraldom, by Love's sweet impression wrought. 
Love ! in that bondage ever let me live ! 
For Love hath brought me bondslave, with a 
thought ! 

And to my thoughts. Love did me bondman give ! 
Ah me, my thoughts' poor prisoner, shall I rest ? 

And shall my thoughts make triumph over me ? 

First, to fierce famished lions stand addrest ! 

Or let huge rocks and mountains cover thee ! 
Behold one, to his fancies made a prey ! 

A poor Action, with his hounds devoured ! 

An oak, with his green ivy worn away ! 

A wretch consumed with plenties great down poured ! 
A garment with his moth despoiled, and rotten ! 

A thorn, with his bred caterpillar cankered ! 

A buried Caesar, with his fame forgotten ! 

A friend betrayed by those on whom he anchored ! 
Behold a fire consumed with his own heat ! 

An iron worn away with his own rust ! 



^j-.,^.''[^*^:] A ND P A R THE NOP HE. ElEGIES. 4II 

But were mine heart of oak, this rage would eat, 
Still fresh as ivy, mine hard oak to dust! 
And were my pleasures durable as steel, 

Despair would force they should Time's canker feel 


His day, sweet Mistress! you to me, did write 
(When for so many lines, I begged replyal), 
That " From all hope, you would not bar me quite ! 
Nor grant plain Placet ! nor give dead denial ! " 
But in my chamber window, while I read it, 
A waspish bee flew round about me buzzing 
With full-filled flanks, when my Time's flower had fed it, 
(Which there lay strewed) ; and in my neck, with buzzing, 
She fixed her sting ! Then did I take her out; 
And in my window left her, where she died. 
My neck still smarts, and swelleth round about ; 
By which her wrath's dear ransom may be tried. 
A mirror to thee. Lady ! which I send 

In this small schoede, with commendations tied ; 
Who, though the sting and anguish stay with me. 
Yet for revenge, saw his unlucky end. 
Then note th' example of this hapless bee ! 
And when to me, thou dost thy sting intend ; 
Fear some such punishment should chance to thee I 

P A R T II E N P H I L [, MayTsg': 


To Parthenophil 

Re you so waspish that, from time to time, 
You nourish bees ! and to so good an end, 
That having sucked your honey, they must climb 
Into your bosom, to bethank their friend ! 

And for a sign, that they come to defend, 
Reward you with such weapons as they have ! 

Nor was it more than your deserts did crave ! 

Not much unHke unto the viper's youngling, 

Who (nourished with the breeder's dearest blood) 

Snarls with his teeth, nor can endure the bongling 
Within the viper's belly, but makes food 

Of her! Thus Nature worketh in her brood. 

So you, forsooth ! (nor was it much am.iss ! ) 

Feed snakes, which thankfully both sting and hiss ! 
But if that any of our sex did sting you, 

Know this, moreover ! Though you bear the prick ; 

And though their frowns, to Melancholy bring you: 

Yet are we, seldom, or else never, sick ! 

Nor do we die, like bees ! but still be quick! 
And soon recovering what we lost before, 

We sting apace ! yet still keep stings in store ! 

? MayTsQs'] ^'^ -'^'^ P A R T II E X o p H E . Elegies. 41 


Ehold these tears, my love's true tribute payment ! 
These plaintive Elegies, my griefs' bewrayers ; 
Accoutered, as is meet, in mournful raiment ! 
My red-swollen eyen, which were mine heart's 
betrayers ! 
And yet, my rebel eye, excuse prepares, 
That he was never worker of my wayment, 

Plaining my thoughts, that my confusion they meant. 
Which thoughts, with sighs (for incense), make dumb 

T'appease the furies of my martyred breast ; 
Which witness my true loves, in long lament. 
And with what agonies I am possesst ! 

Ah me, poor man ! where shall I find some rest ? 
Not in thine eyes, which promise fearful hope ! 
Thine heart hath vowed, I shall be still distresst ! 
To rest within thine heart, there is no scope ! 
All other places made for body's ease, 

As bed, field, forest, and a quiet chamber; 
There, ever am I, with sad cares oppresst ! 
Each pleasant spectacle doth me displease ! 
Grief and Despair so sore on me did seize, 
That day, with tediousness, doth me molest ! 
And Phcebe, carried in her couch of amber, 
Cannot close up the fountains of my woe ! 

4T4 Elegies. Parihenopbjl^ ,\^^:^^\ 


Thus days from nights, my charged heart doth not know ; 
Nor nights, from days ! All hours, to sorrows go ! 
Then punish Fancy I cause of thy disease ! 


OuTH, full of error ! whither dost thou hail me ? 
Down to the dungeon of mine own conceit ! 
Let me, before, take some divine receipt ; 
For well I know, my Gaoler will not bail me ! 

Then, if thou favour not, all helps will fail me ! 
That fearful dungeon, poisoned with Despair, 

Affords no casement to receive sweet air ; 

There, ugly visions ever will appall me. 

Vain Youth misguideth soon, with Love's deceit ! 

Deeming false painted looks most firmly fair. 
Now to remorseless judges must I sue 

For gracious pardon ; whiles they do repeat 

Your bold presumption ! threatening me, with you ! 

Yet am I innocent, though none bewail me! 

Ah, pardon ! pardon ! Childish Youth did view 
Those two forbidden apples, which they wished for ! 

And children long for that, which once they rue. 

Suffice, he found Repentance ! which he fished for, 

With great expense of baits and golden hooks. 

Those living apples do the suit pursue ! 
And are you Judges ? See their angry looks ! 


p.. I!nrnc^. 
? Muy 1 593. 



Where, underneath that wrathful canopy, 
They use to open their condemning books I 
Expect now, nothing but extremity ! 
Since they be Judges, and in their own cause 

Their sights are fixed on nought but cruelty : 
Ruling with rigour, as they list ! their laws. 
O grant some pity ! (placed in Pity's Hall !) 
Since our Forefather (for the like offence) 
With us, received sufficient recompense 

For two fair apples, which secured his fall. 


Ease, Sorrow ! Cease, O cease thy rage a little ! 
Ah, Little Ease ! 0, grant some little ease ! 
I O Fortune, ever constant, never brittle ! 
For as thou 'gan, so dost thou still displease. 
Ah, ceaseless Sorrow ! take a truce with me ! 
Remorseless tyrants, sometimes, will take peace 
Upon conditions; and I'll take of thee 
Conditions ; so thou wilt, thy fury cease ! 
And dear conditions ! for to forfeit life, 

So thou wilt end thy plagues, and vex no more I " 
But, out alas ! he will not cease his strife ! 
Lest he should lose his privilege before ! 
For were I dead, my Sorrow's rule were nought, 

4 1 6 Elegies. P a r t h e n o r ii i l \., |4.y'[ 



And, whiles I live, he, like a tyrant rageth ! 

*' Ah, rage, fierce Tyrant ! for this grief is wrought 

By Love, thy counsel ; which my mind engageth 

To thy fierce thraldom, while he spoils mine heart ! " 
So be my mind and heart imprisoned fast 
To two fierce Tyrants, which this empire part. 
■' O milder Goddess ! Shall this, for ever, last ? 

If that I have these bitter plagues deserved ; 
Yet let Repentance (which my soul doth melt) 
Obtain some favour, if you be not swerved 
From laws of mercy ! " Know what plagues I felt ! 

Yea, but I doubt enchantment in my breast ! 
For never man, so much aggrieved as I, 
Could live with ceaseless Sorrow's weight opprest, 
But twenty thousand times, perforce, should die ! 

And with eyes, She did bewitch mine heart ; 
Which lets it live, biit feel an endless smart. 


Ith humble suit, upon my bended knee, 
(Though absent far from hence, not to be seen ; 
Yet, in thy power, still present, as gods be) 
I speak these words (whose bleeding wounds be 

MaJ'.w"] AND P AR T 11 E NO PIIE. E L E G I E S . 4 1 7 

To thee, dread Cui'ID I and thy mother Queen ! 
" If it, at any time, hath lawful been 
Men mortal to speak with a deity ; 

you great guiders of young Springing Age ; 
Whose power immortal ever was, I ween, 

As mighty as your spacious monarchy ! 
O spare me ! spare my tedious pilgrimage ! 

Take hence the least brand of your extreme fires ! 
Do not, 'gainst those which yield, fierce battle wage ! 

1 know by this, you will allay your rage ! 
That you give life unto my long desires : 

Which still persuades me, you will pity take. 
Life is far more than my vexed soul desires. 

take my life ! and, after death, torment me ! 
Then, though in absence of my chief delight, 

1 shall lament alone ! My soul requires 
And longs to visit the Elizian fields ! 

Then, that I loved, it never shall repent me ! 

There (till those days of Jubilee shall come). 

Would I walk pensive, pleased, alone, and dumb! 

Grant this petition, sWeet love's Queen ! (which wields 
The heart of forelorn lovers evermore !) 

Or else Zanclaean Charbid' me devour ! 

And through his waters, sent to Stygian power ! 

Or patient, let me burn in Etna's i^ame ! 

Or fling myself, in fury, from the shore. 
Into the deep waves of the Leucadian god ! 

4i8 Elegies. Parthenophil{, lity'^^^;. 

Rather than bear this tumult and uproar; 
And, through your means, be scourged with mine own rod ! 
O let me die, and not endure the same ! 
The suit I make, is to be punished still ; 
Nor would I wish not to be wretched there. 
But that I might remain in hope and fear ! 
Sweet lovely Saints ! Let my suit like your will 1 " 

E LE G Y X. 

N QUIET silence of the shady night, 
All places free from noise of men and dogs, 
When PhcBbe, carried in her chariot bright, 
Had cleared the misty vapours, and night fogs : 
Then (when no care the quiet shepherd clogs, 

Having his flock safe foddered in the fold) 
A lively Vision, to my Fancy's sight 
Appeared ; which, methought, wake I did behold. 
A fiery boy, outmatching the moonlight, 
Who, softly whispering in mine ear, had told 

" There, thou, thy fair Parthenophe may see ! " 
I quickly turning, in a hebene bed 
With sable covering, and black curtains spread 
With many little Loves in black, by thee ! 
Thee ! thee, Parthenophe ! left almost dead ! 

Pale cold with fear I did behold. Ay me ! 

jli^yllll] AND P A R TI/I^ .VOPHE . ElEGIES. 419 

Ah me ! left almost senseless in my bed, 

My groans perceived by those which near me lay ; 

By them, with much ado recovered. 

Which fearful vision so did me affray 
That, in a fury set beside my wit, 

Sick as before^ methought, I saw thee yet 

Venus, thy face, there covered with a veil; 

(Mine heart with horror chills, to think on it !) 

The Graces kissed thy lips, and went away. 
Then I, with furious raging, did assail 

To kiss thee ! lest thou should depart before! 

And then (in sight of those, which there did stand), 

Thinking that I should never see thee more. 

Mistaking thee, I kissed a firebrand ! 
Burnt with the fire, my senses (which did fail) 

Freshly recalled into their wits again ; 

I found it was a dream ! But, Sweet ! expound it ! 

For that strange dream, with tears renews my pain ; 

And I shall never rest, till I have found it. 


As it decreed by Fate's too certain doom 
That under Cancer's Tropic (where the Sun 
Still doth his race, in hottest circuit run) 
My mind should dwell (and in none other room), 

420 Elegies. P a r t h e n o p h i l \j^- ^""*^ 

May 1593. 

Where comfoi'ts all be burnt before the bloom ? 

Was it concluded by remorseless Fate 
That underneath th' Erymanthian Bear, 
Beneath the Lycaonian axletree 
(Where ceaseless snows, and frost's extremity 
Hold jurisdiction) should remain my Fear; 

Where all mine hppes be nipt before the Bear ? 
Was it thus ordered that, till my death's date, 
When Phcebus runs on our meridian line, 
When mists fall down beneath our hemisphere, 
And Cynthia, with dark antipodes doth shine, 

That my Despair should hold his Mansion there ? 
Where did the fatal Sisters this assign ? 
Even when this judgement to them was awarded ; 
The silent Sentence issued from her eyne, 
Which neither pity, nor my cares regarded. 


Never can I see that sunny light ! 
That bright contriver of my fiery rage ! 
Those precious Golden Apples shining bright : 
But, out alas ! methinks, some fearful sight 
Should battle, with the dear beholders wage. 

? ^Iay^'593•■] ^ ^"^ D P A R T i{ E N o p H E . Elegies. 421 

I fear such precious things should have some force 
Them to preserve, lest some beholders might 
Procure those precious apples by their slight. 
Then cruel Atlas, banished from remorse, 
Enters my thoughts, and how he feared away 

The poor inhabitants which dwelt about ; 

Lest some, of his rich fruit should make a prey : 
Although the Orchard, circummured throughout 
With walls of steel was ; and a vigil stout 
Of watchful dragons guarded everywhere, 

Which bold attempters vexed with hot pursuit. 
So that none durst approach his fruit for fear. 
Thus, Atlas like, thine heart hath dragons set 
Tyrannous Hatred, and a Proud Disdain, 
Which in that Orchard cruelly did reign, 

And with much rigour rule thy lovely eyes ! 
Immured in steelly walls of chaste Desire, 
Which entrance to poor passengers denies, 
And death's high danger to them that require. 
And even as Atlas (through fierce cruelty, 

And breach to laws of hospitality ; 

When lodging to a stranger he denied) 

Was turned to a stony mountain straight ; 

Which on his shoulders, now, supports heaven's weight 

(A just revenge for cruelty and pride !) 

Even so, thine heart (for inhumanity, 

And wrath to those, that thine eyes' apples love ! 

422 Elegies. P a r r h e a' o p n i l \j^- ^^'^^ 

J May 1593. 

And that it will not lodge a lovely guest) 
Is turned to rock, and doth the burden bear 
Of thousand zealous lovers' dear complaints ; 

Whom thou, with thy fierce cruelty, didst tear ! 
A huge hard rock, which none can ever move ; 

And of whose fruit, no man can be possesst. 

Thy golden smiles make none attempts too dear : 
But when attempted once those apples be, 
The vain Attempter, after, feels the smart ; 
Who, by thy dragons, Hatred and Disdain, 

Are torn in sunder with extremity ! 

For having entered, no man can get forth 
(So those enchanting apples hinder thee). 
Of such dear prize be things of such rare worth ; 
But even as Perseus, Jove's thrice valiant son, 

(Begot of Danae in a golden shower) 

Huge Atlas conquered, when he first begun ; 
Then killed the dragons with his matchless power: 
At length, the beauteous Golden Apples won. 
So right is he born in a golden hour 

(And for his fortune, may from Jove descend). 
Who first thine heart (an Atlas !) hath subdued ; 
Next, Hatred and Disdain brought to their end ; 
Fierce dragons, which Attempters all pursued. 
And which, before, none ever have eschewed. 

At length, who shall these golden apples gain, 
He shall, alone, be Perseus, for his pain ! 

B. Barnes.l 
! May 1593. J 


WiFT Atalanta (when she lost the prize 
By gathering golden apples in her race) 
Shews how, by th'apples of thine heavenly eyes, 
(Which Fortune did, before my passage place, 
When for mine heart's contentment, I did run) 

How, I was hindered, and my wager lost ! 
When others did the wager's worth surprise ; 
I viewed thine eyes ! Thus eyes viewed to my cost ! 
Nor could I them enjoy, when all was done ! 
But seeming (as they did) bright as the sun. 

My course I stayed to view their fiery grace ; 
Whose sweet possession I could not comprise. 
Th'Idaean Shepherd, when the strife begun 
Amongst three goddesses, as Judge decreed, 
The golden apple to Venus did award 

(Cause of the waste and downfall of proud Troy). 
But when the Graces had a sweet regard, 
How fair Parthenophe did her exceed ; 
And Venus, now, was from the world debarred : 
One so much fairer far, as too much coy, 

Parthenophe, they chose in Venus stead. 
And since her beauty Venus' did outgo, 
Two golden apples were to her assigned ! 
Which apples, the outrageous tumults breed 
That are heaped up in my distressed mind : 

Whose figure, in inflamed Troy I find ; 
The chief occasion of mine endless woe. 

424 Elegies. P a k r h e n o r h i l [, May'Tsga". 


Hen I remember that accursed night, 
When my dear Beauty said '* She must depart ! 
And the next morning, leave the City's sight," 
Ah, then ! Even then, black Sorrow shewed his 
might 1 

And placed his empire in my vanquished heart : 
Mine heart still vanquished, yet assaulted still, 

Burnt with Love's outrage; from whose clear torchlight, 

Fierce Sorrow finds a way to spoil and kill. 

Ah, Sorrow ! Sorrow ! never satisfied ! 

And if not satisfied, work on thy will ! 
O dear departure of mine only bliss ! 

When willing, from the City thou did ride; 

And I made offer (though then wounded wide) 

To go with thee ; thou, rashly, didst refuse 

With me distressed, to be accompanied ! 
And binding words (imperious) didst use ! 

Commanding me another way to choose. 

Ah then ! even then, in spirit crucified. 

Mine eyes, with tears ; mine heart, with sigha and throbs ; 

Those, almost blind ! that, hard swollen, almost burst I 
My brains abjuring harbour to my Muse 

Did leave me choked almost, with strait sobs. 

Ah ! be that hour and day, for ever curst ; 
Which me, of my life's liberty did rob ! 

For, since that time, I never saw my Lo\e ! 

? May 

'["^3:] -•/ X D P A R T }[ E X o r 1/ /■:. I{ 1, 1: G 1 1 ; s . 425 

Long can we not be severed ! I will follow 

Through woods, through mountains, waves, and caves 
made hollow ! 

O Grief! of grief's extremity the worst ! 
Still, will I follow ! till I find thee out ! 

And, if my wish, with travel, shall not prove ; 

Yet shall my sorrows travel round about 

In wailful Elegies, and mournful Verse, 

Until they find ! and Thee, with pity pierce ! 
Meanwhile, to see Thee more, standing in doubt ; 

I'll sing my Plain Song with the turtle dove ; 

And Prick Song, with the nightingale rehearse I 


Dear remembrance of my Lady's eyes, 
In mind whose revolutions I revolve ! 
To you, mine heart's bright guide stars ! my Soul cries 
Upon some happy Sentence to resolve. 
A Sentence either of my life or death ! 
So bail me from the dungeon of Despair ! 
On you ! I cry, with interrupted breath, 
On you ! and none but you ! to cross my care. 
My care to cross, least I be crucified, 
'^bove the patience of a human soul ! 
Do this ! ah this ! and still be glorified ! 
Do this ! and let eternities enrol 


Elegies. Parthenophil [, ^- ^^"''• 

J May IS93- 

Thy fame and name ! Let them enrol for ever 

In lasting records of still lasting steel ! 

Do this ! ah this ! and famous still persever ! 

Which in another Age, thy ghost shall feel. 
Yet, howsoever, thou, with me shall deal ; 

Thy beauty shall persever in my Verse ! 

And thine eyes' wound, which thine heart would not heal ! 

And my complaints, which could not thine heart pierce ! 
And thine hard heart, thy beauty's shameful stain 1 

And that foul stain, thine endless infamy ! 

So, though Thou still in record do remain, 

The records reckon but thine obloquy ! 
When on the paper, which my Passion bears, 

Relenting readers, for my sake ! shed tears. 


H, WERE my tears, as many writers' be, 

Mere drops of ink proceeding from my pen ! 

Then in these sable weeds, you should not see 

Me severed from society of men ! 
Ah me ! all colours do mine eyes displease, 

Save those two colours of pure white, and red ! 

And yet I dare not flourish it in these. 

Because I cannot ! For my colour's dead. 
Those colours flourish round about each where, 

But chiefly with my Mistress, in their kind : 

t ^iay^''593:] A N D P A R T II E N I H E , E L E G I E S . 427 

And fain I would her lovely colours wear ; 

So that it might be pleasing to her mind ! 
But nought will please her over-cruel eye, 

But black and pale, on body, and in face ; 

Then She triumphs in beauty's tyranny, 

When she sees Beauty, Beauty can disgrace ! 
When her sweet smiling eyes dry Vesta's throne ! 

Can blubbered blear-eyes, drown in seas of tears ! 

And laughs to hear poor lovers, how they moan ! 

Joys in the paper, which her praises bears ! 
And, for his sake than sent, that schedule tears ! 

What but pale Envy doth her heart assail ? 

When She would be still fair, and laugh alone ; 

And, for her sake, all others mourn and pale ! 

Ear Mistress ! than my soul, to me much dearer ! 
Wonder not that another writes my letter ; 
For Sorrow, still, mine heart oppresseth nearer, 
And extreme sickness doth my sinews fetter. 
Of my dear life, to thy love am I debtor ! 
Thine is my soul ! Than soul, what can be meerer ? 
Thine, my chief best ! Than that, what can be better? 
Absented far and (that which is far worse) 
Unable either for to go or ride ; 
Here am I, in perpetual bondage tied ! 


428 Elegies. P a r t h e n o p ii i l \j \{^^\ 



1 han if with savage Sauromates, far worse ! 

This air is loathsome ; and this air, I curse ; 

Because, with thy sweet breath it is not blest ! 

Though hot ; cool waters I cannot abide, 

Since the which thy clear eyes as all the rest. 
Be not, as they sometimes were, purified ! 

The ground I tread, my footing doth infest; 

Because it is not hallowed with thy feet ! 

I loathe all meat; for all meat is unmeet, 

Which is not eaten, where thy sweet self feedest ! 
Nothing is pleasant, lovely, rich, or sweet ; ' 

Which doth not with his grace, thy beauty meet ! 

Ah, too dear absence ! which this sickness breedest 

Of thy dear Sweet, which cannot be too dear ! 

Yet, if thou will vouchsafe my life to save, 
Write but one line ! One line, my life will cheer ! 

The ransom of my life, thy name will pay ! 

And I be freed from my much doubtful fear. 


F NEITHER Love, nor Pity can procure 
Thy ruthless heart subscribe to my content ; 
But if thou vow that I shall still endure 
This doubtful fear, which ever doth torment ! 
If to thine CAes, thine heart can lend a fire, 

TMay^'^o1.] AND P A R 1 il R N P H E . ElEGIES. 


Whiles cold disdain, upon them sets a lock 
To bar forth Pity, which kind hearts desire, 
Whiles the distressed make prayers to a rock ! 
If that thine eyes send out a sunny smile 
From underneath a cloudy frown of hate 1 

Plain love with counterfeasance, to beguile ; 
Which, at thy windows, for some grace await ! 
If thou, thine ears can open to thy praise. 
And them, with that report delighted, cherish. 
And shut them, when the Passionate assays 

To plead for pity, then about to perish ! 
If thou canst cherish graces in thy cheek. 
For men to wonder at, which thee behold ! 
And they find furies, when thine heart they seek, 
And yet prove such as are extremely cold ! 

Now as I find no thought to man's conceit ; 
Then must I swear, to woman's, no deceit ! 


Ear Sorrow ! Give me leave to breathe a while ! 
A little leave, to take a longer breath ! 
Whose easy passage, still, thou dost beguile, 
Choked up with sighs, proclaimers of my death. 
O let the tears of ever-thirsty eyes 
Return back to the channels of mine heart ! 

430 Elegies. Parthenophil [, u^y'^^^i 

They, to my sight be vowed enemies 

And made a traitorous league not to depart ; 

Under the colour of tormenting those 

Which were first causers of mine heart's distress. 

And closely with mine heart, by guile, did close 
Through blinding them, to make my torment less ; 
O let those fearful thoughts, which still oppress me, 
Turn to the dungeon of my troubled brain ! 
Despair t' accompany ! which doth possess me, 

And with his venorn poisoneth every vein. 

Ugly Despair ! who, with black force, assaults 
Me vanquished with conceit, and makes me dwell 
With Horror, matched in Melancholy's vaults ! 
Where I lie burning in my Fancies' Hell. 

O thou, dread Ruler of my sorrows' rage ! 
Of thee ! and none but thee, I beg remorse ! 
With thy sweet breath, thou may my sighs assuage! 
And make my sorrows' fountains stay their course, 
And banish black Despair ! Then help me, now ! 

Or know, Death can do this, as well as thou ! 


Dear vexation of my troubled soul ! 
My life, with grief, when wilt thou consumate ? 
The dear remembrance of my passing soul ; 
Mine heart, with some rests, hope doth animate. 

? MayTsg"-] ^ '^^ Par r II eno phe. Elegies. 431 

How many have those conquering eyes subdued I 

How many vanquished captives to thine heart ! 
Head iron-hearted Captains (when they viewed) 
Were drawn, till they were wounded with thy dart 
O when, I, their haired bodies have beheld, 
Their martial stomachs, and oft-wounded face j 

Which bitter tumults and garboils foretelled ; 

In which, it seemed they found no coward's place : 
Then, I recalled how far Love's power exceeds, 
Above the bloody menace of rough war ! 
Where every wounded heart close inward bleeds j 

And sudden pierced, with the twinkling of a star 1 
Then (when such iron-hearted Captains be, 
To thine heart's Bulwark, forced for to try 
Which way to win that Fort by battery ; 
And how all Conquerors, there conquered lie !) 

Methinks, thine heart, or else thine eyes be made 
(Because they can such iron objects force) 
Of hardest adamant ! that men (which laid 
Continual siege) be thralled, without remorse. 
Thine heart, of adamant ! because it takes 

The hardest hearts, drawn prisoners unto thine. 
Thine eye ! because it, wounded many makes. 
Yet no transpiercing beams can pierce those eyne I 
Thine heart of adamant, which none can wound I 
Thine eye of adamant, unpierced found 1 

432 Elegies. P a r t ji e x o p n i l [, ^'- ^^'■""• 

May 1593. 


Appy ! depart with speed ! Than me, more fortunate 
ever ! 
Poor Letter, go thy ways ! unto my sweet Lady's 
hands ! 

She shall look on thee ! and then, with her beautiful eyes 
bless ! 
Smiling eyes (perhaps, thee to delight with a glance) 
She shall cast on a line ; if a line, there, pleaseth her 
humour ! 
But if a line displease ; then shall appear a frown ! 
How much she dislikes thy loves, and saucy salutings ! 

O my life's sweet Light ! know that a frown of thine eye 
Can transpierce to my soul, more swift than a Parthian 
arrow ; 
And more deeply wound than any lance, or a spear ! 
But thy sweet Smiles can procure such contrary motions; 
Which can, alone, that heal, wound afore by thine eyes ' 
Like to the lance's rust, which healed whilom warlike 
With right hand valiant, doughtily wounded afore. 
Not unlike to the men, whose grief the scorpion helpeth 

(Whom he, before, did sting), ready to die through pain : 
Thou, that Beauty procures to be thy Chastity's handmaid, 

With \'irtue's regiment glorious, ordered alone! 
Thou, that those smooth brows, like plates of ivory planed, 

? Mayors ^^^^^ P ARTIIENOPHE. E L E G I ES . 433 

(When any look on them) canst make appear like a cloud ! 
Thou, that those clear eyes, whose light surpasseth a star's 
Canst make Love's flames shoot, with cruel anger, abroad ! 
Thou, that those fair cheeks, when a man thy beauty 
(Deeply to wound), canst make sweetly to blush like a rose ! 
Make thy brows (to delight mine heart I ) smooth ! Shadow 
thy clear eyes ! 
(Whose, smile is to my soul, like to the sun from a cloud, 
When he shines to the world in most pride, after a tempest ; 
And with his heat provokes all the delights of the ground) 
Grant me, sweet Lady! this! This, grant! kind Pity 
requesteth ! 
Tears and sighs make a suit ! Pity me ! pity my suit ! 
Thus to thy sweet graces, will I leave my dreary bewailings ! 

And to thy gracious heart, I recommend my laments ! 
Thrice blessed ! go thy way, to my Dear ! Go, thrice speedy 
Letter I 
And for me, kiss them ! since I may not kiss her hands. 

£nc. Gar. V. 28 


^-Y — T 


Ll beauty's far perfections rest in thee ! 
And sweetest grace of graces 
Decks thy face, 'bove faces I 
All virtue takes her glory from thy mind I 
The Muses in thy wits have their places ! 
And in thy thoughts all mercies be ! 
Thine heart from all hardness free ! 
An holy place in thy thoughts^ holiness doth find I 
In favourable speech, kind ! 
A sacred tongue and eloquent ! 
Action sweet and excellent ! 
Music itself, in joints of her fair fingers is ! 

She, Chantress of singers is ! 
Her plighted faith is firm and permanent ! 
O now ! now, help ! Wilt thou take some compassion ? 
She thinks I flatter, writing on this fashion ! 

Thy beauty past, with misorder stained is ] 

In the", no graces find rest ! 

In thee, who sought it, saw least ! 
And all thy thoughts be vain and vicious ! 

Thy brains with dulness are oppresst ! 
Of thee, no mercy gained is ! 

TMajw^s-'] Parjiienophil. Canzon. 435 

Thine heart, hard and feigned is ! 
A mind profane, and of the worst suspicious ! 

In speech not delicious ! 

A tongue tied, which cannot utter ! 

Gesture lame, like words which stutter ! 
Thy hands and mind, unapt in music to rejoice ! 

For songs unfit, an hoarse voice ! 
Thy faith unconstant, whatsoe'er thou mutter ! 
Be gracious! No ! She thinks my words be bitter ! 
Through my misfortunes, they for myself be fitter I 

O how long ! how long shall I be distresst I 
How long in vain shall I moan 1 
How long in pain shall I groan ! 
How long shall I bathe in continual tears I 
How long shall I sit sad, and sigh alone 1 
How long shall fear discomfort give I 
How long shall hopes let me live ! 
How long shall I lie bound in despairs and fears ! 
With sorrow still my heart wears I 
My sundry fancies subdue me I 
Thine eyes kill me, when they view me ! 
When thou speaks with my soul ; thy voice music maketh. 

And souls from silence waketh I 
Thy brow's smiles quicken me ; whose frowns slew me ! 
Then fair Sweet ! behold ! See me, poor wretch ! in torment ! 
Thou perceivest well! but thine heart will not relent. 

Mine Eyes and Sleep be fierce professed foes ! 
Much care and tears did make it : 
Nor yet will they forsake it ; 

But they will vex my brains, and troubled eyes ! 

If any sorrow sleep, they will wake it ! 

436 Canzon. P a r t h e n o f II I l [? Ai^^/^^'j; 

Still, sighing mine heart overthrows 1 
Yet art Thou cause of these woes ! 
But what avails ! if I make to the deaf, such horrible out- 
cries ? 

She hears not my miseries ! 
O Sorrow ! Sorrow, cease a while ! 
Let her but look on me and smile 1 
And from me, for a time, thou shalt be banished ! 

My comforts are vanished ! 
Nor hope, nor time, my sorrows can beguile 1 
Yet cease I not to cry for mercy ! vexed thus ; 
But thou wilt not relieve us, which perplexed us ! 

Ah, would Thou set some limits to my woes ! 
That, after such a time set 
(As penance to some crime set), 
Forbearance, through sweet hope, I might endure ! 
But as bird (caught in the fowler's lime set) 
No means for his liberty knows ; 
Me such despair overgoes, 
That I can find no comfortable hope of cure ! 

Then since nothing can procure 
My sweet comfort, by thy kindness; 
(Armed in peace, to bear this blindness) 
I voluntarily submit to this sorrow, 

As erst, each even and morrow. 
Can women's hearts harbour such unkindness? 
O, relent ! Relent, and change thy behaviour ! 
Foul is the name of Tyrant ; sweet, of Saviour ! 

Long to the rocks, have I made my complaints 1 
And to the woods desolate, 
My plaints went early and late 1 

To the forsaken mountains and rivers ! 

t Aiay^TwG ^ '^^ ^ P --^ RTHE .V PH E. CaNZON. 437 

Yet comfortless, and still disconsolate ; 
Mine heart, as it was wonted, faints ! 

Such small help comes from such Saints! 
Why should men which in such pain live, be called, Livers ? 
Such arrows bear love's quivers. 
Now, since rocks and woods will not hear; 
Nor hills and floods, my sorrows bear : 
In sounding echoes and swift waves, the world about, 

These papers report it out ! 
Whose lasting Chronicles shall Time outwear ! 
Then, take remorse, dear Love ! and to these, united 
Shall be thy mercies ! with matchless prayers recited. 

You hapless winds ! with my sighs infected 
Whose fumes, you never let rise 
To please her with sacrifice ! 
But evermore, in gross clouds them choked ; 
So that my Dear could never them comprise ! 
O you (that never detected 
My plaints, but them neglected ! 
Which in your murmurs brought, might have her provoked ! 
When them in clouds you cloaked !) 
Know that a prouder spirit flies, 
Bearing them to posterities ! 
And lays them open wide, that the world may view them ; 

That all which read, may rue them ; 
When they shall pierce thine ears, though not thine eyes ! 
Then, sweet Fair! pity my long service and duty! 
Lest thine hard heart be more famous than thy beauty ! 
Then do no longer despise. 
But, with kind pity, relent thee! 

Cease to vex and torment me I 
If Shame's fear move not (which all discovers), 
Fear plague of remorseless lovers ! 

438 [The First Eidillion of "^^""^ ^^ Ly's": 

The First Eidillion of 
M o s c H u s describing Love. 

[Compare with Vol. 11./. 107,] 

[jEnus aloud, for her son Cupid cried, 
*' If any spy Love gadding in the street, 
It is my rogue ! He that shall him 

For hire, of Venus shall have kisses 

sweet ! 
But thou that brings him, shall have more 
Thou shalt not only kiss, but as guest stay ! 

By many marks, the Boy thou mayst bewray ! 
'Mongst twenty such beside, thou shalt perceive him ! 
Not of a pale complexion, but like fire ! 
Quick rolling eyes, and flaming in their gyre ! 
False heart ! Sweet words, which quickly will deceive him, 
To whom he speaks ! Sweet speech, at your desu'e; 
But vex him ! then, as any wasp he stingeth ! 

Lying, and false ! if you receive him ; 
A crafty lad ! and cruel pastimes bringeth ! 

A fair curled head, and a right waggish face ! 
His hands are small ; yet he shoots far away ! 
For even so far as Acheron, he shooteth ! 
And to the Infernal Monarch, his darts stray. 
Clothesless, he, naked goes in every place ! 
And yet to know his thoughts, it no man booteth ! 

Trans, by R Barnes. M O S C H U S DESCRIBING L O V E .] 439 

Swift, as a bird, he flies ! and quickly footeth. 

Now to these men ! and women, now to those ! 

But yet he fits within their very marrow 

A little bow, and in that bow, an arrow ! 

A small flight-shaft, but still to heavenward goes ! 

About his neck, a golden dart-barrow ! 

In which, he placeth every bitter dart ; 

Which, often, even at me ! he throws ! 
All full of cruelty ! all full of smart ! 

And yet this thing more wondrous ! A small brand 
That even the very sun itself doth burn ! 

If him thou take; pitiless, lead him, bound! 
And, if thou chance to see him weep, return ! 
Then (lest he thee deceive), his tears withstand ! 
And if he laugh, draw him along the ground ! 
If he would kiss, refuse ! His lips confound ! 
For those alone be poisoned evermore ! 
But if he say, ' Take ! these I give to thee ! 
All those my weapons which belong to me ! * 
Touch them not, when he lays them, thee before ! 
Those gifts of his, all false and fiery be ! " 






N SWEETEST pride of youthful May, 
Where my poor flocks were wont to stay 
About the valleys and high hills, 
Which Flora with her glory fills; 
Parthenophil, the gentle Swain, 
Perplexed with a pleasing pain, 

Despairing how to slack his pain ; 
To woods and floods, these words did say, 
** Parthenophe, mine heart's Soverain ! 
Why dost thou, my delights delay? 
And with thy cross unkindness kills, 
Mine heart, bound martyr to thy wills ! " 

But women will have their own wills, 
Alas, why then should I complain ? 
Since what She lists, her heart fulfils. 
I sigh ! I weep ! I kneel ! I pray ! 
When I should kiss, She runs away ! 
Sighs ! knees ! tears ! prayers ! spent in vain I 

B. Barnes, 
t May fi^3. 

] P A R T II E N r 11 1 L. Odes, 

My verses do not please her vain, 
Mine heart wears with continual thrills 
His Epilogue about to play 1 
My Sense, unsound ; my Wits, in wane ; 
I still expect a happy day ! 
Whilst harvest grows, my winter spills ! 


Parthenophe mine harvest spills ! 
She robs my storehouse of his grain ! 
Alas, sweet Wench ! thy rage allay ! 
Behold, what fountain still distils ; 
Whiles thine heat's rage in me doth rain ! 
Yet moisture will not his flame stay. 

Parthenophe ! thy fury stay ! 
Take hence ! the occasion of these ills 
Thou art the cause ! but come again ! 
Return ! and Flora's pride disdain ! 
Her lilies, rose, and daffodils ! 
Thy cheeks and forehead disarray 

The roses and lilies of their grain ; 
What swans can yield so many quills 
As all her glories can display ? 


Hen I walk forth into the Woods, 
With heavy Passion to complain 
I view the trees with blushing buds 
Ashamed, or grieved at my pain ! 
There amaranthe, with rosy stain 
(Me pitying) doth his leaves ingrain ! 

442 Odes. Parthenjdphil [, \fyT^i. 

When I pass pensive to the Shore, 
The water birds about me fly, 
As if they mourned ! when rivers roar, 
Chiding thy wrathful cruelty ; 
Halcion watcheth warily 
To chide thee, when thou comest by ! 

If to the City, I repair 
Mine eyes thy cruelty betray ! 
And those which view me, find my care : 
Swoll'n eyes and sorrows it betray ! 
Whose figures in my forehead are, 
These curse the cause of mine ill fare ! 

When I go forth to feed my Flocks 
As I, so they hang down their heads ! 
If I complain to ruthless Rocks, 
(For that it seems, hard rocks her bred) 
Rocks' ruth, in rivers may be read ! 
Which from those rocks down trickled. 

When shepherds would know how I fare, 
And ask, " How doth Parthenophil ? " 
*' 111," Echo answers, in void air; 
And with these news, each place doth fill ! 
Poor herdgrooms, from each cottage, will 
Sing my complaints, on every hill ! 

O D E 2. 

Peak, Echo ! tell 

With lilies, columbines, and roses, 
What their Parthenophe composes ? Echo, Posies! 
O sacred smell ! 
For those, which in her lap she closes, 
The gods like well ! 

? May^isw-] AND P ARTHENO PIIE. CaNZON. 443 

Speak, Echo! tell 
With daffodillies, what she doth plet 
Which in such order, she doth set 
For Love to dwell ? 
As She should Flora's chapel let ? Echo, Chaplet ! 
This Love likes well ! 

Speak, Echo ! tell 
Why lilies and red roses like her? Echo, Like her! 
No pity with remorse will strike her ! 

Did Nature well. 
Which did, from fairest Graces, pike her 

To be mine hell ? 

Speak, Echo ! tell 
Why columbines she entertains ? 
Because the proverb *' Watchet " feigns, 
" True loves like well ! " 
And do these therefore like her veins ? Echo Her veins ! 
There Cupids dwell! 

Speak, Echo, tell 
Wherefore her chaplets yellow were like, 
When others here, were more her like? Echo, Hair-like ! 

Yet, I know well ! 
Her heart is tiger-like, or bear-like, 

To rocks itsell. 


^^™Ing! sing, Parthenophil! sing! pipe! and play ! 

^^^ This feast is kept upon this plain, 

^^j Amongst th' Arcadian shepherds everywhere, 

For Astrophel's birthday! Sweet Astrophel ! 
Arcadia's honour ! mighty Pan's chief pride ! 
Where be the Nymphs ? The Nymphs all gathered be 
To sing sweet Astrophel's sweet praise ! 

444 Canzon. P a r t II e n o p ii I l [, ^ 

May 1593. 

Echo ! record what feasts be kept to-day 
Amongst th'Arcadian shepherd swains ! 
What keep they, whiles they do the Muses cheer? 

Echo, Cheer! 

He cheered the Muses with celestial skill ! 
All Shepherds' praise died with him, when he died \ 
He left no peer ! Then, what deserved he. 
At whose pipe's sound, the lambkin bays ? 

Echo, Bays ! 

The bullocks leap ! the fawns dance in array ! 

Kids skip ! the Satyrs friskins fain ! 
Here stand a herd of Swains ! Fair Nymphs stand there !: 
Swains dance! while Nymphs with flowers their baskets fill \ 
What was he to those Nymphs with garlands tied ? 

Echo, Tied 1 

What tied him ? Hath he to tell there bound fee ? 

Echo, Bounty ! 

How ! To report his martial days ? 

Echo, All days ! 

Thrice happy man ! that found this happy way ! 
His praise all Shepherds' glory stains ! 

What doth Parthenophe, my purchase dear ? 

Echo, Chase dear ! 
What saith She, to her Parthenophil ? 

Echo, O fill ! 

Shepherds ! I fill sweet wines repurified, 
And to his blessed Soul, this health have we ! 
Singing sweet Odes and Roundelays 1 

? May 159 

3;] AND P A R T 11 E N T II E . C A N Z O N . 445 

Let every man drink round besides this bay! 

Where are the Nymphs and Fairy train ? 
Stella, three garlands in her hand doth bear ; 

"And those, for his sweet sake ! she proffer will, 
Unto th'Elizian souls ! And I have spied 
Parthenophe, with spoil returns to me, 

Of three great hearts. Sing Virelays I 

Those golden darts fly never void of prey, 
And Stella sits (as if some Chain 

Of Fancies bound her !) by that motley bier! 

Where, with sweet eglantine and daffodil, 

She, chaplets makes, with gold and scarlet dyed. 

Here, Colin sits, beneath that oaken tree ! 
Eliza singing in his Lays ! 

Blest is Arcadia's Queen ! Kneel Swains, and say 
That " She (which here chief Nymph doth reign) 

May blessed live! to see th'extremest year ! " 

For sacrifice, then, lambs and kidlings kill I 

And be, by them, Eliza glorified ! 

The Flower of Loves, and pure Virginity ! 
This Delian Nymph doth amaze ! 

The fairest deers, which in the forests stay ! 

Those harts (which proudest herds disdain ; 
And range the forests as without compeer !) 
Submissive, yield themselves ! that if She will. 
She, them may wound I or on their swift backs ride ! 
Lions and bears, with beauty tameth She ! 

Shepherds ! for Her ! your voices raise ! 

44^ Odes. P a r t ii e n o r ii i l [, MayTsgs.' 

Echo ! this favour, if I purchase may ! 
Do not herdgrooms there feign ? 

Echo, They're fain ! 
What want they ? Speak ! now, they be blest, if e'er ! 

Echo, Fear ! 

What be the confines ? Rebels they be still ! 

Echo, They be still 1 
What is She, that so many Swains doth there guide ? 

Echo, Their guide ! 
None but herself hath that ability 

To rule so many ways ! 
Her thoughts, sure grounded on Divinity; 
For this sweet Nymph, each Shepherd prays ! 

ODE 3. 

PoN a holy Saintes Eve 
As I took my pilgrimage, 
Wand'ring through the forest wary, 

Blest be that holy Saint ! 
I met the lovely Virgin, Mary ! 

And kneeled, with long travel faint. 

Performing my due homage. 
My tears foretold my heart did grieve. 

Yet Mary would not me relieve ! 

Her I did promise, every year. 
The firstling female of my flock ; 
That in my love she would me further. 

(I curst the days of my first love, 
My comfort's spoils, my pleasures' murder.) 

She, She, alas, did me reprove I 

My suits, as to a stony rock, 
Were made ; for she would not give ear : 

Ah love ! dear love ! love bought too dear ! 

B. Barnes. 
T May 1593, 

;] AND Par t ii e x o p ii e. Odes. 

Mary, my Saint chaste and mild ! 
Pity, ah, pity my suit ! 
Thou art a virgin, pity me ! 

Shine eyes, though pity wanting ; 
That she, by them, my grief may see ! 

And look on mine heart panting ! 

But her deaf ears, and tongue mute, 
Shews her hard heart unreconciled ! 

Hard heart, from all remorse exiled ! 


O D E 4. 

AccHUS ! Father of all sport ! 

Worker of Love's comfort ! 
Venus' best beloved brother! 

(Like beloved is none other !) 
Greater Father of Felicity ! 

Fill full, with thy divinity, 
These thirsty and these empty veins ! 

Thence, fuming up into my brains. 
Exceed Apollo, through thy might I 

And make me, by thy motion light, 
That, with alacrity, I may 

Write pleasing Odes ! and still display 
Parthenophe, with such high praises, 

(Whose beauty. Shepherds all amazes) 
And, by those means, her loves obtain ! 

Then, having filled up every vein, 
I shall be set in perfect state 

The rights of love to celebrate ! 
Then, each year, fat from my sheepcot. 

Thy sacrifice, a tydie goat ! 
And ^I(ii ivol shall be 

Loud chanted, everywhere, to thee ! 

448 Odes. Parthenophil [. \{IyT^^. 

ODE 5, 

Arthenophe ! See what is sent ! 

By me (fair Nymph !) these Saints salute thee ! 
Whose presents in this basket here, 

Faithful Parthenophil doth bear ! 
Nor will I prove ingrate ! nor mute be! 
If my power were, 

Such gifts as these 
(If they would please) 
Here willingly I would present 1 

And these, those presents present be ! 
First, Juno sent to thee, these lilies ! 
In whose stead chaste Affection moves. 

Venus hath sent two turtle doves ! 
Narcissus gives thee daffodillies ! 

For doves, true loves ! 
For daffodillies 

My golden wills ! 
Which countervails what here is sent thee ! 

Flora doth greet thee, with sweet roses ! 
Thetis, with rich pearls orient ! 

Leucothoe, with frankincense ! 

For roses, my love's chaste pretence ! 
For pearls, those tears which I have spent ! 

My sighs' incense, 

For sweet perfume ! 

Thus I presume. 
Poor Shepherd ! to present these posies ! 

? May^'593:] ^ .V D P A R T IT E N P If E . 

Odes. 449 

Though I be rude, as shepherds are, 
Lilies, I know, do stand for whiteness ! 
And daffodillies, thy golden hair! 

And doves, thy meekness ! figures bear. 
Red roses, for a blushing brightness ! 

Thy teeth, pearls were ! 
That incense showed 

Thy breath that blowed, 
A sacrifice ! for which gods care. 

Blest is that Shepherd, nine times nine ! 
Which shall, in bosom, these flowers keep 
Bound in one posy ; whose sweet smell, 

In Paradise may make him dwell ! 
And sleep a ten times happy sleep I 

I dare not mell ! 

Else with good will 

Would to thy lips, one kiss assign I 

ODE 6. 

Fair sweet glove I 

Divine token 
Of her sweet love, 

Sweetly broken ! 
By words, sweet loves She durst not move ! 
These gifts, her love to me do prove ! 

Though never spoken. 

E^G. Gak. V. 

On her fair hand. 

This glove once was ! 
None in this land 

Did ever 'pass 

450 Odes. P a r t ii e n o p h i l [, Maya's Jt' 

Her hands' fair white! Come Loves! here stand! 
Let Graces' with yours, match her hand 1 
Hide ! hide, alas ! 

Graces would smile 

If you should match ! 
Hers, yours beguile ! 
Hers, garlands catch 
From all the Nymphs ! which blush the while 
To see their white outmatched a mile I 
Which praise did watch. 

This glove, I kiss ! 

And, for thy sake, 
I will not miss, 
But ballads make ! 
And every snepherd shall know this; 
Parthenophil in such grace is 1 
Muses, awake ! 

For I will sing 

Thy matchless praises ! 
And my pipes bring, 
Which floods amazes ! 
Wild Satyrs, friskins shall outfling ! 
The rocks shall this day's glory ring! 
Whiles Nymphs bring daisies. 

Some, woodbines bear ! 
Some, damask roses I 
The Muses were 
A-binding posies. 
My goddess' glove to herrye here 
Great Pan comes in, with flowers sear, 
And crowns composes ! 

t ^Uy^'59]:] ^ -^' D P A R T II E N O P H E. O D E S. 45 1 

I note this day 

Once every 3ear ! 
An holiday 

For tier kept dear! 
A hundred Swains, on pipes shall play ! 
And for the Glove, masque in array 
With jolly cheer ! 

A Glove of Gold, 
I will bring in ! 
For which Swains bold, 
Shall strife begin ! 
And he, which loves can best unfold ; 
And hath in Songs, his mind best told ; 
The Glove shall win 1 

Nymphs shall resort ! 

And they, with flowers, 
Shall deck a Fort 
For paramours, 
Which for this Glove, shall there contend ! 
Impartial Nymphs shall judgement end ! 
And in those bowers, 

Pronounce who best 

Deserved, of all ! 
Then by the rest 
A Coronal 
Of Roses, freshly shall be dresst ! 
And he, with that rich Glove possesst, 
As Principal ! 

452 Odes. P a r t h e n o p ii i i |', Ly^^g': 

O D E 7, 

j|Hen I did think to write of war, 
And martial chiefdens of the field, 
Diana did enforce to yield 
My Muse to praise the Western Star! 
But Pallas did my purpose bar, 
My Muse as too weak, it to wield ! 

Eliza's praises were too high ! 
Divinest Wits have done their best! 
And yet the most have proved least ; 
Such was her Sacred Majesty I 
Love's Pride ! Grace to Virginity ! 
could my Muse, in her praise rest ! 

Venus directed me to write 
The praise of peerless Beauty's Wonder! 
A theme more fit for voice of thunder ! 
Parthenophe, from whose eyes bright, 
Ten thousand Graces dared my might, 
And willed me, five degrees write under | 

But yet her Fancy wrought so much. 
That my Muse did, her praise adventure ! 
Wherein, of yore, it durst not enter. 
And now her beauty gives that touch 
Unto my Muse, in number such ; 
Which makes me more and more repent her! 

? May^"9>] '^ ^^ ^ P A R ' T II E N p II E. Odes. 453 


N A shady grove of myrtle, 

Where birds musical resorted, 
With Flora's painted flowers fert'Ie, 

Which men with sight and scent comforted, 
Whilst turtles equally disported, 
Where each Nymph looses 
Bunches of posies. 
Which into chaplets sweet they sorted ! 

There, seated in that lovely shade, 
With Laya beautiful, there sate 
A gentle Shepherd, which had made, 

'Gainst evening twilight, somewhat late, 
An arbour built in sylvan state, 
Where, in exchange, 
Their eyes did range, 
Giving each other, the checkmate. 

He said, '* Sweet comfort of my Life ! 

Come and embrace Pakthenophil !" 
** Met we," said She, " to fall at strife ! 
I will be gone ! Ay, that I will !" 
" I loved you long ! " " Why, do so still ! " 
** I cannot choose, 
• If you refuse ! 
But shall myself, with sorrow kill." 

With that, he sighed, and would have kissed ! 

And viewed her with a fearful smile : 
She turned, and said, "Your aim missed 1" 

With sighs redoubled, the meanwhile. 

454 Odes. P a r t h e n o r h r l [ ■^u"'"^' 

' M»y ^h'ii- 

The Shepherd sate, but did compile 
Green-knotted rushings ; 
Then roundelays sings ! 
And pleasant doth twilight beguile ! 

At length, he somewhat nearer presst, 

And, with a glance, the Nymph deceiving, 
He kissed her ! She said, " Be at rest ! " 
Willing displeased, in the receiving ! 
Thence, from his purpose, never leaving, 
He pressed her further ! 
She would cry " Murder !" 
But somewhat was, her breath bereaving ! 

At length, he doth possess her whole ! 

Her lips ! and all he would desire ! 
And would have breathed in her, his soul ! 
If that his soul he could inspire : 
Eft that chanced, which he did require, 
A live soul possesst 
Her matron breast — 
Then waking, I found Sleep a liar ! 

O D E 9. 

Ehold, out walking in these valleys. 
When fair Parthenophe doth tread, 
How joysome Flora, with her dallies ! 
And, at her steps, sweet flowers bred 1 

Narcissus yellow, 
And Amaranthus ever red, 
Which all her footsteps overspread ; 
With Hyacinth that finds no fetllow. 

? May^''s93^■] ^"^ ^^' D P A K T H E X O P H E, O D E S . 455 

Behold, within that shady thick, 
Where my Parthenophe doth walk, 
Her beauty makes trees moving quick, 
Which, of her grace, in murmur talk ! 

The Poplar trees shed tears ; 
The blossomed Hawthorn, white as chalk ; 
And Aspen trembling on his stalk ; 

The tree which sweet frankincense bears ; 

The barren Hebene coaly black ; 

Green Ivy, with his strange embraces ; 

Daphne, which scorns Jove's thundercrack; 

Sweet Cypress, set in sundry places ; 
And singing Atis tells 

Unto the rest, my Mistress's graces ! 

From them, the wind, her glory chases 
Throughout the West ; where it excels. 

ODE 10. 

Hv doth heaven bear a sun 
To give the world a heat ? 
Why, there, have stars a seat ? 

On earth, when all is done ! 

Parthenophe's bright sun 
Doth give a greater heat ! 

And in her heaven there be 
Such fair bright blazing stars ; 
Which still make open wars 

With those in heaven's degree. 

These stars far brighter be 

Than brightest of heaven's stars f 

45.6 Odes. P a r t h e n o r ii i l [, 

Why doth earth bring forth roses, 

Violets, or lilies, 

Or bright daffodillies ? 
In her clear cheeks, she closes 
Sweet damask roses ! 

In her neck, white lilies ! 

B. Barnes. 

May 1593. 

Violets in her veins ! 

Why do men sacrifice 

Incense to deities ? 
Her breath more favour gives, 
And pleaseth heavenly veins 

More than rich sacrifice ! 

O D E I I . 

OvELY Maya ! Hermes' mother, 
Of fair Flora much befriended, 
To whom this sweet month is commended, 
This month more sweet than any other, 
By thy sweet sovereignty defended. 

Daisies, cowslips, and primroses, 
Fragrant violets, and sweet mynthe, 
Matched with purple hyacinth : 
Of these, each where, Nymphs make trim posies. 
Praising their mother Bervcinth. 

Behold, a herd of jolly Swains 

Go flocking up and down the mead ! 
A troup of lovely Nymphs do tread! 
And dearnly dancing on yon plains : 
Each doth, in course, her hornpipe lead ! 

May^^QS-] ^ N D P A R T II E X O I' 1/ E. O D E S . 45 / 

Before the grooms, plays Peers the Piper. 
They bring in hawthorn and sweet briar : 
And damask roses, they would bear ; 
But them, they leave till they be riper. 
The rest, round Morrises dance there ! 

With frisking gambols, and such glee. 
Unto the lovely Nymphs they haste ! 
Who, there, in decent order placed. 
Expect who shall Queen Flora be ; 
And with the May Crown, chiefly graced ? 

The Shepherds poopen in their pipe. 
One leads his wench a Country Round ; 
Another sits upon the ground ; 
And doth his beard from drivel wipe, 
Because he would be handsome found. 

To see the frisking, and the scouping ! 

To hear the herdgrooms wooing speeches ! 
Whiles one to dance, his girl beseeches. 
The lead-heeled lazy luskins louping. 
Fling out, in their new motley breeches ! 

This done, with jolly cheer and game, 

The batch'lor Swains, and young Nymphs met ; 
Where in an arbour, they were set. 
Thither, to choose a Queen, they came. 
And soon concluded her to fet. 

There, with a garland, they did crown 
Parthexophe, my true sweet Love ! 
Whose beauty all the Nymphs above, 
Did put the lovely Graces down. 
The Swains, with shouts, rocks' echoes move I 

458 Sestine. Parthenophil [, May"","' 

To see the Rounds, the Morris Dances, 
The leaden galliards, for her sake ! 
To hear those songs, the Shepherds make ! 
One with his hobby horse still prances ! 
Whiles some, with flowers, an highway make ! 

There in a mantle of light green, 
(Reserved, by custom, for that day) 
Parthenophe, they did array ! 
And did create her. Summer's Queen ! 
And Ruler of their merry May ! 


Ou loathed fields and forests, 
Infected with my vain sighs ! 
You stony rocks, and deaf hills. 
With my complaints, to speak taught! 
You sandy shores, with my tears, 
Which learn to wash your dry face ! 

Behold, and learn in my face, 
The state of blasted forests ! 
If you would learn to shed tears, 
Or melt away with oft sighs ; 
You shall, of me, be this taught, 
As I sit under these hills. 

Beating mine arms on these hills. 
Laid grovelling on my lean face ! 
My sheep, of me to bleat taught ; 
And to wander through the forests ! 
The sudden winds learn my sighs ! 
Aurora's flowers, my tears ! 

r May'^^:] AND P A R T H E N P H E. O D E S . 459 

But She that should see my tears, 
Swift scuddeth by the high hills, 
And sees me spent with long sighs, 
And views my blubbered lean face ; 
Yet leaves me to the forests, 
Whose solitary paths taught 

My woes, all comforts untaught. 
These sorrows, sighs, and salt tears 
Fit solitary forests ! 
These outcries meet for deaf hills ! 
These tears, best fitting this face ! 
This air, most meet for these sighs ! 

Consume ! consume, with these sighs ! 
Such sorrows, they to die taught ! 
Which printed are in thy face, 
Whose furrows made with much tears? 
You stony rocks ! and high hills ! 
You sandy shores ! and forests ! 

Report my seas of salt tears ! 

You I whom I nothing else taught, 
But groanings ! tears ! and sad sighs ! 

ODE 12. 

Ne night, I did attend my sheep, 
Which I, with watchful ward, did keep 

For fear of wolves assaulting : 
For, many times, they broke my sleep, 
And would into the cottage creep. 
Till I sent them out halting ! 

460 Odes. P a r t h e n p in l '[, May^'sQ"' 

At length, methought, about midnight, 
(What time clear Cynthia shineth bright) 

Beneath, I heard a rumbling ! 
At first, the noise did me affright ; 
But nought appeared in my sight, 

Yet still heard something tumbling. 

At length, good heart I took to rise. 

And then myself crossed three times thrice ; 

Hence, a sharp sheephook raught 
I feared the wolf had got a prize ; 
Yet how he might, could not devise 1 
I, for his entrance sought. 

At length, by moonlight, could I espy 
A little boy did naked lie 

Frettished, amongst the flock : 
I, him approached somewhat nigh. 
He groaned, as he were like to die ; 
But falsely did me mock ! 

For pity, he cried, " Well a day ! 
Good master, help me, if you may 1 

For I am almost starved ! " 
I pitied him, when he did pray ; 
And brought him to my couch of hay. 
But guess as I was served ! 

He bare about him a long dart, 
Well gilded with fine painter's art ; 

And had a pile of steel. 
On it I looked every part : 
Said I, " Will this pile wound a heart ? " 
'■' Touch it ! " quoth he, " and feel ! " 

May"593'] A N D P A R T 1/ E lY P II E. O D. E S . 46 I 

With that, I touched the javelin's point ! 
Eftsoons it pierced to the joint ! 

And rageth now so fierce, 
That all the balms which it anoint 
Cannot prevail with it, a point; 
But it mine heart will pierce. 

ODE 13. 

N THE plains. 

Fairy trains 
Were a treading meas-ures, 
Satyrs played, 
Fairies stayed 
At the stops' set leisure. 

Nymphs begin 
To come in 
Quickly, thick, and threefold 
Now the dance ! 

Now the prance. 
Present there to behold ! 

On her breast 

That did best 
A jewel rich was placed I 
Flora chose 

Which of those 
Best the measures jjraccd. 

When he had 

Measures lad 
Parthenophe did get it ! 
Nymphs did chide 
. When they tried, 
Where the judgement set it. 

462 Odes. P a k t h e n o p h i l [, Say^™,": 

Thus they said 

" This fair Maid, 
Whom you gave the jewel. 
Takes no pleasure 
To keep measure ; 
But it is too too cruel ! " 

ODE 14. 

Ark I all you lovely Nymphs forlorn ! 

With Venus, chaste Diana meets ! 

And one another friendly greets ! 
Did you not hear her wind a horn ? 
Then cease, fair Ladies! Do not mou.n ! 

Virgins, whom Venus made ofiend. 
Resort into the wood at even ; 
And every one shall be forgiven I 

There shall all controversies end ! 

Diana shall be Venus' friend ! 

Hark, Nymphs forlorn ! what is decreed ! 
Spotless Diana must not fail, 
But be addressed with Venus' veil ; 

Venus must wear Diana's weed. 

This veil will shadow, when 3'ou need ! 

If any think a virgin light ; 
Dian' in Venus veil excuseth, 
And her Nymph Phcebe's habit useth. 
These quaint attires befit you right, 
For each a diverse garment chooseth. 

^' ^"5"'] ^-^ ^ ^ P A RT H E N O ril E. 

t May 

Canzon. 46; 

ODE 15. 
Ulcan, in Lemnos Isle, 
Did golden shafts compile 

For Cupid's bow. 
Then Venus did, with honey sweet, 
To make it please, anoint the pile. 

Cupid below 
Dipped it in gall, and made it meet 
Poor wounded creatures to beguile. 

When Mars returned from war, 
Shaking his spear afar ; 

Cupid beheld ! 
At him, in jest, Mars shaked his spear ! 
Which Cupid, with his dart did bar 

(Which millions quelled). 
Then, Mars desired his dart to bear : 
But soon the weight, his force did mar ! 

Then Mars subdued, desired 
(Since he was with it tired) 

Cupid to take it. 
*' Nay, you shall keep it ! " Cupid said ; 
" For first to feel it you required. 

Wound I will make it 
As deep as yours ! You me did fear ; 
And for that, you shall be fired ! " 


Weet is the golden Cowslip bright and fair ! 
Ten times more sweet, more golden, fair, and bright, 
Thy Tresses ! in rich trammelled knots, resembling. 
Venus' swan's back is lovely, smooth, and white ! 
More lovely, smooth, and white his feathers are, 
The silver lustre of thy I^rows dissembling ! 

464 Canzon. Part henop nil [, May^™93. 

Bright are the Sunbeams, on the water trembling! 
Much brighter, shining Hke love's holy fire, 
On well watered diamonds of those eyes, 
Whose heat's reflection, Love's Affection tries ! 
■ Sweet is the Censer, whose fume doth aspire 
Appeasing Love, when for revenge he flies ! 
More sweet the Censer, like thy seemly Nose ! 
Whose beauty (than Invention's wonder higher !) 
Nine times nine Muses never could disclose. 

Sweet Eglantine, I cannot but commend 

Thy modest rosy blush ! pure, white, and red ! 

Yet I thy white and red praise more and more 

In my sweet Lady's Cheeks since they be shed. 

When Grapes to full maturity do tend, 

So round, so red, so sweet, all joy before 

Continually I long for them therefore 

To suck their sweet, and with my lips to touch ! 

Not so much for the Muses' nectar sake, 

But that they from thy Lips their purpose take. 

Sweet ! pardon, though I thee compare to such. 

Proud Nature, whichso white Love's doves did make, 

And framed their lovely heads, so white and round. 

How white and round ! It doth exceed so much. 

That nature nothing like thy Chin hath found ! 

Fair Pearls, which garnish my sweet Lady's neck : 
Fair orient pearls ! O, how much I admire you 1 
Not for your orient gloss, or virtue's rareness. 
But that you touch her Neck, I much desire you ! 
Whose whiteness so much doth your lustre check. 
As whitest lilies the Primrose in fairness ; 
\ neck most gorgeous, even in Nature's bareness. 
Divine Rosebuds, which, when Spring doth surrender 
His crown to Summer, he last trophy reareth ; 
By which he, from all seasons, the palm, beareth ! 
Fair purple crisped folds sweet-dewed and tender ; 

t Ma^^'sg,'.] ^ ^'^ P A RT H EN I H E. CaNZON. 465 

Whose sweetness never wears, though moisture weareth, 
Sweet ripe red Strawberries, whose heavenly sap 
I would desire to suck ; but Loves ingender 
A nectar more divine in thy sweet Pap ! 

O lovely tender paps ! but who shall press them ? 
Whose heavenly nectar, and ambrosial juice 
Proceed from Violets sweet, and asier-like, 
And from the matchless purple FIcuy de luce. 
Round rising hills, white hills (sweet Venus bless them!) 
Nature's rich trophies, not those hills unlike, 
Which that great monarch, Charles, whose power did 
From th' Arctic to the Antarctic, dignified [strike 

With proud Plus ultra : which Cerography 
In unknown Characters of Victory, 
Nature hath set ; by which she signified 
Her conquests' miracle reared up on high ! 
Soft ivory balls ! with which, whom she lets play, 
Above all mortal men is magnified. 
And wagers 'bove all price shall bear away ! 

O Love's soft hills ! how much I wonder you ! 

Between whose lovely valleys, smooth and straight. 

That glassy moisture lies, that slippery dew ! 

Whose courage touched, could dead men animate ! 

Old Nestor (if between, or under you ! 

He should but touch) his young years might renew ! 

And with all youthful joys himself indue ! 

O smooth white satin, matchless, soft, and bright ! 

More smooth than oil ! more white than lily is I 

As hard to match, as Love's Mount hilly is ! 

As soft as down ! clear, as on glass sunlight ! 

To praise your white, my tongue too much silly is ! 

How much, at your smooth soft, my sense amazed is! 

Which charms the feeling, and enchants the sight : [is ! 

But yet her bright, smooth, white, soft Skin more praised 

Eng. Gar. V. , 

466 Canzon. Parthenophil [? 

B. Barnes. 
May 1593. 

How oft have I, the silver Swan commended 

For that even chesse of feather in her wing ! 
So white ! and in such decent order placed 1 
When she, the doly Dirge of Death did sing, 
With her young mournful cygnets' train attended ! 
Yet, not because the milk-white wings her graced, 
But when I think on my Lady's Waist, 
Whose ivory sides, a snowy shadow gives 
Of her well-ordered ribs, which rise in falling ! 
How oft, the swan I pitied, her death calling. 
With dreary notes ! Not that she so short lives, 
And 'mongst the Muses sings for her installing; 
But that so clear a white should be disdained 
With one that for Love's sugared torment lives ! 
And makes that white a plague to lovers pained. 

O, how oft ! how oft did I chide and curse 

The brethren Winds, in their power disagreeing ! 

East, for unwholesome vapour ! South, for rain ! 

North, for, by snows and whirlwinds, bitter being ! 

I loved the West, because it was the Nurse 

Of Flora's gardens, and to Ceres' grain ! 

Yet, ten times more than these, I did curse again ! 

Because they are inconstant and unstable 

In drought ! in moisture ! frosty cold ! and heat ! 

Here, with a sunny smile ! there, stormy threat ! 

Much like my Lady's fancies variable ! 

How oft with feet, did I the marble beat ; 

Harming my feet, yet never hurt the stone ! 

Because, like her, it was inpenetrable, 

And her heart's nature with it, was all one ? 

O that my ceaseless sighs and tears were able 

To counter charm her heart ! to stone converted. 

I might work miracles to change again 

The hard to soft ! that it might rue my pain. 

B. R.irnes. 
? May 1593 

] AND P A R T II K X O P II E . OdES. 467 

But of herself she is so straitly skirted 
(Falsely reputing True Love, Honour's Stain) 
That I shall never move, and never die, 
So many ways her mind I have experted ! 
Yet shall I live, through virtue of her eye ! 

ODE 16. 

Efore bright TjTAN raised his team 

Or lovely Morn with rosy cheek, 
jj With scarlet dyed the Eastern stream, 

On Phcebus' day, first of the week ; 
Early, my goddess did arise, 

With breath to bless the morning air. 
O heavens, which made divine mine eyes ! 

Glancing on such a Nymph ! so fair ! 
Whose Hair, downspread in curled tresses, 

Phcebus his glitter and beams withstood : 
Much like him, when, through cypresses, 

He danceth on the silver flood ; 
Or like the golden purled down, 

Broached upon the palmed-flowered willows, 
Which downward scattered from her crown. 

Loosely dishevelled on love's pillows. 
Covering her swan-like back below 

Like ivory matched with purest gold ; 
Like Phcebe when on whitest snow 

Her gilded shadow taketh hold. 
Her Forehead was like to the rose 

Before Adonis pricked his feet 1 
Or like the path to heaven which goes, 

Where all the lovely Graces meet ! 
Cupid's rich Chariot stood under ! 

Moist pearl about the wheels was set ! 
Grey agate spokes, not much asunder ! 

468 Odes. Parthenofhil [, Ma^^gj! 

The axletree of purest jet ! 
Her seemly Nose, the rest which graced, 

For Cupid's Trophy was upreared ! 
Th' imperial Thrones, where Love was placed 

When, of the world, he would be feared. 
Where Cupid, with sweet Venus sate 

Her cheeks with rose and lilies decked, 
Nature upon the coach did wait, 

And all in order did direct. 
Her Cheeks to damask roses sweet, 

In scent and colour were so like ; 
That honey bees in swarms would meet 

To suck ; and, sometimes. She would strike 
With dainty plume, the bees to fear ! 

And being beaten, they would sting ! 
They found such heavenly honey there ; 

Cupid, which there sate triumphing, 
When he perceived the bee did sting her 

Would swell for grief, and curse that bee, 
More than the bee that stinged his finger ! 

Yet still about her they would flee ! 
Then Love to Venus would complain 

Of Nature, which his chariot drest ! 
Nature would it excuse again, 

Saying, " She then shewed her skill best !" 
When she drank wine, upon her face, 

Bacchus would dance! and spring to kiss ! 
And shadow, with a blushing grace, 

Her cheeks, where lovers build their bliss : 
Who, when she drank, would blush for shame 

That wanton Bacchus she should use ; 
Who, Venus' brother, might defame 

Her, that should such acquaintance choose ! 
What gloss the scarlet curtains cast 

On a bedstead of ivory. 
Such like, but such as much surpasst 

t May^'sgl:] AND Partiienopiie. Odes. 469 

All gloss, her cheeks did beautify. 
Her roseate Lips, soft lovely swelling, 

And full of pleasure as a cherry ; 
Her Breath of divine spices smelling. 

Which, with tongue broken, would make merry 
Th' infernal souls ; and, with her voice. 

Set heaven gates open, hell gates shut, 
Move melancholy to rejoice, 

And thralled in Paradise might put. 
Her Voice, not human, when she speaketh 

I think some angel or goddess, 
Into celestial tunes which breaketh, 

Speaks like her, with such cheerfulness. 
All birds and instruments may take 

Their notes divine and excellent, 
Melodious harmony to make, 

From her sweet voices' least accent. 
This we Love's Sanctuary call ! 

Whence Sacred Sentences proceed, 
Rolled up in sounds angelical ; 

Whose place, sweet Nature hath decreed, 
Just under Cupid's Trophy fixed. 

Where music hath its excellence 
And such sweets, with Love's spirit mixed, 

As please far more than frankincense. 
Thence, issue forth Love's Oracles 

Of Happiness, and luckless Teen ! 
So strange be Love's rare miracles 

In her, as like have never been ! 
Her Neck that curious axletree, 

Pure ivory like, which doth support 
The Globe of my Cosmography : 

Where, to my Planets I resort 
To take judicial signs of skill, 

When tempests to mine heart will turn ? 
When showers shall my fountains fill ? 

4 70 Odes. P a r t h e n o p ii 2 l [, u^y'^'^l 

And extreme droughts mine heart shall burn ? 
There, in that Globe, shall I perceive 

When I shall find clear Element ; 
There, gloomy mists shall I conceive, 

Which shall offend the Firmament ! 
On this, my studies still be bent. 

Where even as rivers from the seas 
In branches through the land be sent. 

And into crooked sinews press. 
Throughout the globe such wise the veins 

Clear crystalline throughout her neck 
Like sinuous, in their crooked trains, 

Wildly the swelling waves did check. 
Thence, rise her humble seemly Shoulders, 

Like two smooth polished ivory tops ; 
Of Love's chief Frame, the chief upholders, 

Whiter than that was of Pelops ! 
Thence, Cupid's five-grained mace out brancheth; 

Which fivefold, the live Senses woundeth. 
Whose sight the mind of lookers lanceth. 

Whose force, all other force astoundeth. 
Thence, to that bed, where Love's proud Queen, 

In silent majesty, sweet sleepeth ; 
Where her soft lovely pillows been. 

Where Cupid, through love's conduits creepeth. 
Pillows of Venus' turtles' down ! 

Pillows, than Venus' turtles softer ! 
Pillows, the more where Love lies down 

More covets to lie down and ofter ! 
Pillows, on which two sweet Rosebuds, 

Dewed with ambrosial nectar lie; 
Where Love's Milk- Way, by springs and floods, 

Through violet paths, smooth slideth by. 
But now, with fears and tears, proceed 

Love's Place of Torture to declare ! 
Which such calamity doth breed 

TMa?^793.■] ^^^ Partiienopiie. Sestine. 471 

To those which there imprisoned are ; 
Which, once in chains, are never free ! 

Which still for want of succour pine ! 
Dry sighs, salt-wat'ry tears, which be 

For dainty cakes and pleasant wine ! 
Immured with pure white ivory, 

Fetters of adamant to draw, 
Even steel itself, if it be nigh ! 

A bondage without right or law ! 
With poor AcTEON overthrown 

But for a look ! and with an eye 
In his clear arms. Love's Sergeant known, 

Arrests each lover that goes by. 
This is her Heart ! Love's Prison called ! 

Whose conquest is impregnable. 
Whence, who so chance to be enthralled, 

To come forth after, are unable. 
Further to pass than I have seen, 

Or more to shew than may be told; 
Were too much impudence ! I ween : 

Here, therefore, take mine anchor hold ! 
And with the Roman Poet, deem 

Parts unrevealed to be most sweet ; 
Which here described, might evil beseem 

And for a modest Muse unmeet. 
Such blessed mornings seldom be ! 

Such sights too rare when men go by ! 
Would I but once the like might see ; 

Then I might die, before I die ! 


3|Cho! What shall I do to my Nymph, when I go to behold 
her ? Echo, Hold her 1 

So dare I not ! lest She should think that 1 make her a prey 
then ! Echo, Pray then ! 

472 Odes. Parthenophil [, May^'sga: 

Yea, but at me, She will take scorn, proceeded of honour ! 

Echo, On her ! 

Me bear will She (with her, to deal so saucily) never ! 

Echo, ' Ever ! 

Yea, but I greatly fear She will have pure thoughts to refuse such. 

Echo, Few such ! 

Then will I venture again more bold, if you warn me to do so ! 

Echo, Do so ! 

I must write with tears and sighs, before that I do so I 

Echo, Do so ! 

But what if my tears and sighs be too weak to remove her? 

Echo, Move her ! 

So shall ye move huge Alps with tears and sighs, if you may such ! 

Echo, You may such ! 
If any that, shall affirm for a truth ; I shall hold that they lie then ! 

Echo, Lie then ! 

If I study to death, in kind, shall I lie never ! 

Echo, Ever I 

O ! what is it to lie? Is't not dishonour? 

Echo, 'Tis honour ! 

Then to flatter a while her, is't not dishonour? 

Echo, Honour ! 

Then will I wrest out sighs, and wring forth tears when I do so ? 

Echo, Do so ! 

Lest She find my craft, with her I may toy never ? 

Echo, Ever ! 

Then, if you jest in kind with her, you win her? 

Echo, You win her ! 
Then, what time She laughs from her heart, shall I smile then? 

Echo, Ey, smile then ! 
They that like my toys ! is it harm, if I kiss such? 

Echo, Ey, kiss such ! 

t Ma?*.'593:] andParihenopiie. Odes. 473 

Yea, but most Ladies have disdainful minds, to refuse such ! 

Echo, Few such ! 

In what space, shall I know, whether her love resteth in honour? 

Echo, In one hour ! 
O for such a sweet hour ! My life of hours will I pray then ! 

Echo, Ay then ! 

Then if I find, as I would ; more bold to urge her, I may be so? 

Echo, Be so ! 

But if she do refuse ! then, woe to th'Attempter ! 

Echo, Attempt her ! 
She will proudly refuse ! She speaks in jest never ! 

Echo, Ever ! 

So though still She refuse, She speaks in jest ever ! 

Echo, Ever ! 

Then such as these, be the true best signs to seek out such ? 

Echo, Seek out such ! 
Such will I seek ! But what shall I do, when I first shall attempt her I 

Echo, Tempt her ! 

How shall I tempt her, ere She stand on terms of her honour ? 

Echo, On her ! 

might I come to that ! I think 'tis even so. 

Echo, 'Tis even so ! 
Strongly to tempt and move, at first, is surely the best then ? 

Echo. The best then ! 

What, when they do repugn, yet cry not forth ! will they do then ? 

Echo, Do then ! 

With such a blunt Proem, Ladies, shall I move never? 

Echo, Ever ' 

1 must wait, on an inch, on such Nymphs whom I regard so ; 

Echo, Guard so ! 

'i'hose whom, in heart, I love ; my faith doth firmly deserve such. 

Echo, Serve such ! 

Then to become their slaves, is no great dishonour ? 

i^CHo, Honour ! 

But to the Muses, first, I will recommend her ! 

Echo, Commend her ! 


Odes. P a r t h e n o p h i l 

r B. Barnes. 
L?May 1593. 

They that pity lovers ; is't good, if I praise such ? 

Echo, Ey, praise such ! 
If that I write their praise ; by my verse, shall they live never ? 

Echo, Ever ! 

If thy words be true ; with thanks, take adieu then. 

Echo, Adieu then ! 

ODE 17. 

EvEAL, sweet Muse ! this secret ! 
Wherein the lively Senses 
Do most triumph in glory ? 
Where others talk of eagles, 
Searching the sun with quick sight ; 
With eyes, in brightness piersant, 
Parthenophe, my sweet Nymph, 
With Sight more quick than eagle's, 
With eyes more clear and piersant, 
(And, which exceeds all eagles, 
Whose influence gives more heat 
Than sun in Cancer's Tropic) 
With proud imperious glances 
Subduing all beholders, 
Which gaze upon their brightness, 
Shall triumph over that Sense. 

Reveal, sweet Muse, this secret 1 
Wherein the lively Senses 
Do most triumph in glory? 
Where some of heavenly nectar 
The Taste's chief comfort talk of 
For pleasure and sweet relish ; 
Where some, celestial syrups 

I Ma?*,'59":] AND PaRTHENOPHE. OdES. 475 

And sweet Barbarian spices, 
For pleasantness, commend most : 
Parthenophe, my sweet Nymph, 
With Lips more sweet than nectar. 
Containing much more comfort 
Than all celestial syrups ; 
And which exceeds all spices, 
On which none can take surfeit, 
Shall triumph over that Sense. 

Reveal, sweet Muse, this secret ! 
Wherein the lively Senses 
Do most triumph in glory ? 
When some Panchaian incense, 
And rich Arabian odours. 
And waters sweet distilled, 
Where some of herbs and flowers 
Of Ambergrease and sweet roots, 
For heavenly spirit, praise most : 
Parthenophe, my sweet Nymph, 
With Breath more sweet than incense, 
Panchaian or Arabic, 
Or any sorts of sweet things. 
And which exceeds all odours ; 
Whose spirit is Love's godhead. 
Shall triumph over that Sense. 

Reveal, sweet Muse, this secret! 
Wherein the lively Senses 
Do most triumph in glory ? 
Where Music rests in voices, 
As Socrates supposed ; 
In voice and bodies moving, 
As though Aristoxinus ; 
In mind, as Theophrastus : 

476 Odes. Parthenophil [, s-Bamas. 

_? May 1593. 

Her Voice exceeds all music, 

Her body's comely carriage, 

Her gesture, and divine grace 

Doth ravish all beholders. 

Her mind, it is much heavenly, 

And which exceeds all judgement ; 

But such sweet looks, sweet thoughts tell 

And makes her conquer that Sense. 

Reveal, sweet Muse, this secret ! 
Wherein the lively Senses 
Do most triumph in glory ? 
Where some of sacred hands talk, 
Whose blessing makes things prosper ; 
Where some of well skilled fingers, 
Which makes such heavenly music 
With wood and touch of sinews : 
Parthenophe's divine Hands, 
Let them but touch my pale cheeks ! 
Let them but any part touch, 
My sorrow shall assuage soon ! 
Let her check the little string ! 
The sound to heaven shall charm me. 
Thus She, the Senses conquers* 

O D E I 8 . 

That I could make her, whom I love best, 
Find in a face, with misery wrinkled ; 
Find in a heart, with sighs over ill-pined. 

Her cruel hatred ! 
O that I could make her, whom I love best, 
Find by my tears, what malady vexeth ; 
Find by my throbs, how forcibly love's dart, 

Wounds my decayed heart ! 

1 Ma^y^i593'] andParthenophe. Odes. 477 

O that I could make her, whom I love best, 
Tell with a sweet smile, that she respecteth 
All my lamentings; and that, in her heart, 

Mournfully she rues! 
For my deserts were worthy the favours 
Of such a fair Nymph, might she be fairer I 
O then a firm faith, what may be richer ? 

Then to my love yield ! 
Then will I leave these tears to the waste rocks ! 
Then will I leave these sighs to the rough winds ! 
O that I could make her, whom I love best, 

Pity my long smart ! 

ODE 19. 

Hy should I weep in vain, poor and remedyless ? 
yi yM Why should I make complaint to the deaf wilder- 
^^]Q{ ness ? 

Why should I sigh for ease ? Sighs, they breed 
malady ! 
Why should I groan in heart ? Groans, they bring misery ! 
Why should tears, plaints, and sighs, mingled with heavy 

Practise their cruelty, whiles I complain to stones ? 
O what a cruel heart, with such a tyranny. 
Hardly she practiseth, in grief's extremity ? 
Such to make conquered whom she would have depressed. 
Such a man to disease, whom she would have oppressed. 
O but, Parthenophe ! turn, and be pitiful ! 
Cruelty, beauty stains ! Thou, Sweet ! art beautiful ! 
If that I made offence, my love is all the fault 
Which thou can charge me with, then do not make assault 
With such extremities, for my kind hearty love ! 
But for love's pity sake, from me, thy frowns remove ! 

478 Sonnet. P a r t h e n o p ii i l [, \^y7^i 

So shalt thou make me blest ! So shall my sorrows cease ! 
So shall I live at ease ! So shall my joys acrease ! 
So shall tears, plaints, and sighs, mingled with heavy groans. 
Weary the rocks no more ! nor lament to the stones ! 

O D E 20. 

Sweet, pitiless eye, beautiful orient 

(Since my faith is a rock, durable everywhere). 

Smile ! and shine with a glance, heartily me to joy ! 

Beauty taketh a place ! Pity regards it not ! 

Virtue findeth a throne, settled in every part ! 

Pity found none at all, banished everywhere ! 

Since then. Beauty triumphs (Chastity's enemy). 

And Virtue cleped is, much to be pitiful ; 

And since that thy delight is ever virtuous : 

My tears, Parthenophe! pity ! Be pitiful ! 

So shall men Thee repute great ! as a holy Saint ! 

So shall Beauty remain, mightily glorified ! 

So thy fame shall abound, durably chronicled ! 

Then, sweet Parthenophe! pity! Be merciful ! 


H me ! How many ways have I assayed, 
To win my Mistress to my ceaseless suit ! 
What endless means and prayers have I made 
To thy fair graces ! ever deaf and mute. 
At thy long absence, like an errand page. 

With sighs and tears, long journeys did I make 
Through paths unknown, in tedious pilgrimage ; 
And never slept, but always did awake. 

T May^'593:] ^ ^ D P A RT HE NO PHE. S E S T I N E . 479 

And having found Thee ruthless and unkind ; 

Soft skinned, hard hearted ; sweet looks, void of pity; 

Ten thousand furies raged in my mind, 
Changing the tenour of my lovely Ditty; 

By whose enchanting Saws and magic Spell, 

Thine hard, indurate heart, I must compel. 

S E ST I N E 5. 

Hen, first, with locks dishevelled and bare, 
Strait girded, in a cheerful calmy night, 
Having a fire made of green cypress wood, 
And with male frankincense on altar kindled ; 

I call on threefold Hecate with tears! 

And here, with loud voice, invocate the Furies ! 

For their assistance to me, with their furies ; 

Whilst snowy steeds in coach, bright Phcebe bare. 

Ay me ! Parthenophe smiles at my tears ! 

I neither take my rest by day or night ; 

Her cruel loves in me such heat have kindled. 

Hence, goat ! and bring her to me raging wood ! 

Hecate tell, which way she comes through the wood ! 
This wine about this altar, to the Furies 
I sprinkle ! whiles the cypress boughs be kindled. 
This brimstone, earth within her bowels bare ! 
And this blue incense, sacred to the night ! 
This hand, perforce, from this bay his branch tears ! 

So be She brought ! which pitied not my tears ! 
And as it burneth with the cypress wood. 
So burn She with desire, by day and night ! 
You gods of vengeance ! and avengeful Furies ! 
Revenge, to whom I bend on my knees bare. 
Hence, goat ! and bring her, with love's outrage kindled \ 

480 Sestine. Part he no PHIL [, 

Hecate ! make signs, if She with love come kindled ! 
Think on my Passions ! Hecate ! and my tears ! 
This Rosemarine (whose branch She chiefly bare, 
And loved best) I cut, both bark and wood : 
Broke with this brazen axe, and, in love's furies, 
I tread on it, rejoicing in this night, 

And saying, " Let her feel such wounds this night ! " 
About this altar, and rich incense kindled. 
This lace and vervine (to love's bitter furies !) 
I bind, and strew ; and, with sad sighs and tears. 
About, I bear her Image, raging wood. 
Hence, goat ! and bring her from her bedding bare ! 

Hecate ! reveal if She like Passions bare ! 

I knit three true-lovers-knots (this is Love's night !) 
Of three discoloured silks, to make her wood ; 
But She scorns Venus, till her loves be kindled, 
And till She find the grief of sighs and tears. 
" Sweet Queen of Loves ! For mine unpitied furies, 

Alike torment her, with such scalding fires ! 
And this Turtle, when the loss she bare 
Of her dear Make, in her kind, did shed tears 
And mourning ; did seek him, all day and night : 
Let such lament in her, for me be kindled ! 
And mourn she still ! till she run raging wood 

Hence, goat ! and bring her to me raging wood ! 
These letters, and these verses to the Furies, 
Which She did write, all in this flame be kindled. 
Me, with these papers, in vain hope She bare. 
That She, to day would turn mine hopeless night, 
These, as I rent and burn, so fury tears. 

B. Barnes. 
May 1593. 

fMa?i'59t] -^^^ Parihexophe. Sestine. 4S1 

Her hardened heart, which pitied not my tears. 

The wind-shaked trees make murmur in the wood, 
The waters roar at this thrice sacred night, 
The winds come whisking shrill to note her furies ; 
Trees, woods, and winds, a part in my plaints bare, 
And knew my woes ; now joy to see her kindled ! 

See! whence She comes, with loves enraged and kindled! 
The pitchy clouds, in drops, send down their tears ! 
Owls screech ! Dogs bark to see her carried bare ! 
Wolves yowle and cry ! Bulls bellow through the wood I 
Ravens croape ! Now, now ! I feel love's fiercest furies ! 
Seest thou, that black goat ! brought, this silent night. 

Through empty clouds, by th' Daughters of the Night I 
See how on him, She sits ! with love rage kindled ! 
Hither, perforce, brought with avengeful Furies ! 
Now, I wax drowsy! Now, cease all my tears; 
Whilst I take rest, and slumber near this wood ! 
Ah me ! Parthenophe naked and bare ! 

Come, blessed goat, that my sweet Lady bare ! 

Where hast thou been, Parthenophe ! this night ? 
What, cold ! Sleep by this fire of cypress wood. 
Which I, much longing for thy sake, have kindled ! 
Weep not ! Come Loves and wipe away her tears ! 
At length yet, wilt Thou take away my furies ? 

Ay me ! Embrace me ! See those ugly Furies ! 
Come to my bed I lest they behold thee bare ; 
And bear thee hence ! They will not pity tears! 
And these still dwell in everlasting night ! 
Ah, Loves, (sweet love!) sweet fires for us hath kindled ! 
But not inflamed with frankincense or wood. 

Est.. Gar. V. oj 

B. Barnes. 
May i593« 

482 Skstine. P a rt II e no FH I L. [j 

The Furies, they shall hencef into the wood ! 

Whiles Cupid shall make calmer his hot furies, 
And stand appeased at our fires kindled. 
Join ! join Parthenophe ! Thyself unbare ! 
None can perceive us in the silent night ! 
Now will I cease from sighs, laments, and tears ! 

And cease, Parthenophe ! Sweet ! cease thy tears ! 
Bear golden apples, thorns in every wood ! 
Join heavens ! for we conjoin this heavenly night ! 
Let alder trees bear apricots ! (Die Furies !) 
And thistles, pears ! which prickles lately bare 1 
Now both in one, with equal flame be kindled ! 

Die magic boughs '.now die, which late were kindled ! 
Here is mine heaven ! Loves drop, instead of tears I 
It joins ! it joins ! Ah, both embracing bare ! 
Let nettles bring forth roses in each wood ! 
Last ever verdant woods ! Hence, former Furies ! 

die ! live ! joy ! What ? Last continual, night ! 

Sleep Phcebus still with Thetis ! Rule still, night ! 

1 melt in love ! Love's marrow-flame is kindled ! 
Here will I be consumed in Love's sweet furies 1 
I melt ! I melt ! Watch Cupid, my love tears ! 
If these be Furies, O let me be wood ! 

If all the fiery element I bare ; 

'Tis now acquitted ! Cease your former tears ! 

For as She once, with rage my body kindled ; 
So in hers, am I buried this night ! 





To THE Right Noble Lord 

EiGN, mighty Lord ! these verses to peruse, 
Which my black mournful Muse pre- 

senteth here ! 
Blushing, at her first entrance, in for fear; 
Where of herself, her self She cloth 
And seeking Patronage, bold means doth 
To shew that duty, which in heart I bear 
To your thrice noble House ! which shall outwear 
Devouring Time itself, if my poor Muse 
Divine aright : whose virtuous excellence 
She craves, her ruder style to patronise. 
Vouchsafe, then, noble Lord ! to give defence : 
Who, when her brighter glory shall arise, 

Shall fly to fetch Fame, from her Fort of Brass ; 
Which, with your virtues, through the world shall pass ! 

/j84 [Dedicatory Sonnets, j Ma^y\'593 

To THE Right 

Honourable, most renowned and valiant 

ROBERT, Earl of ESSEX and EWE. 

Ouchsafe, thrice valiant Lord ! this Verse to read, 
When time from cares of more import, permits ; 
The too dear charge of my uncharged wits ! 
And that I do my lighter Muses lead 
To kiss your sacred hands ! I mildly plead 
For pardon ; where all gracious virtue sits. 
Since time of yore, their Lord's firstfruits admits ; 
My bashful Muse (which lost her maidenhead 
In too dear travail of my restless Love) 

To you, my Lord ! her first-born babe presents 1 
Unworthy such a patron ! for her lightness. 
Yet deign her zeal ! though not the light contents ; 
Till, from your virtues (registered above). 
To make her Love more known, she borrow brightness. 

To THE Right Noble and virtuous Lord, 

EcEiVE, sweet Lord ! with thy thrice sacred hand, 
(Which sacred Muses make their instrument) 
These worthless leaves ! which I, to thee present ! 
(Sprung from a rude and unmanured land) 
That with your countenance graced, they may withstand 
Hundred-eyed Envy's rough encounterment ; 
Whose Patronage can give encouragement 
To scorn back-wounding ZoiLUS his band. 
Vouchsafe, right virtuous Lord ! with gracious eyes, 
(Those heavenly lamps which give the Muses light, 

B. Barnes. 
? May 1593. 

Dedicatory Sonnets.] 485 

Which give and take, in course, that holy fire) 
To view my Muse with your judicial sight ; 

Whom, when time shall have taught, by flight, to rise 
Shall to thy virtues, of much worth, aspire. 


Lady, MARY, Countess of PEMBROKE 

Ride of our English Ladies ! never matched ! 

Great Favourer of Phgebus' offspring ! 

In whom, even Phgebus is most flourishing ! 

Muse's chief comfort ! Of the Muses, hatched ! 
On whom, Urania hath so long time watched 

In Fame's rich Fort, with crown triumphing 

Of laurel, ever green in lusty Spring, 

After thy mortal pilgrimage, despatched 
Unto those planets, where thou shalt have place 

With thy late sainted Brother, to give light ! 

And with harmonious spheres to turn in race. 
Vouchsafe, sweet Lady ! with a forehead bright. 

To shine on this poor Muse ; whose first-born fruit, 

That you (of right) would take, she maketh suit ! 


Lady, The Lady STRANGE. 

Weet Lady ! Might my humble Muse presume 
Thy beauties' rare perfection to set out 
(Whom she, Pride of our English Court reputes) 

Ambitious, siie would assume 

To bla/on everywhere about 

486 [D i: D 1 c a t o r y Son n e t s . j May",",": 

Thy beauty ! whose dumb eloquence disputes 
With fair Loves' Queen; and her, by right confutes I 

But since there is no doubt 
""But that thy beauty's praise (which shall consume 

Even Time itself) exceedeth 
All British Ladies; deign my Muse's suits ! 
Which, unacquainted of your beauty, craves 

Acquaintance ! and proceedeth 

T'approach so boldly ! and behaves 
Herself so rudely ! daunted at your sight ; 

As eyes in darkness, at a sudden light. 



OsE of that Garland ! fairest and sweetest 
Of all those sweet and fair flowers ! 
Pride of chaste Cynthia's rich crown ! 
Receive this Verse, thy matchless beauty meetest ! 
Behold thy graces which thou greetest. 

And all the secret powers 
Of thine, and such like beauties, here set down I 
Here shalt thou find thy frown ! 
Here, thy sunny smiling! 
Fame's plumes fly with thy Love's, which should be fleetest ! 
Here, my loves' tempests and showers ! 
These, read, sweet Beauty ! whom my Muse shall crown ! 
Who for thee ! such a Garland is compiling, 
Of so divine scents and colours, 
As is immortal, Time beguiling ! 

Your Beauty's most affectionate servant, 


Sir Francis Drake 
revived ; 

C alii fig upon this dull or effeminate Age^ 
to follow his noble steps for gold and silver : 

Dy this memorable Relation of the rare occurrences 

(never yet declared to the world) in a Third Voyage 

made by him into the West Indies, in the years 

[i5]72 and [i5]73 ; when Nombre de Dios was 

by him, and fifty-two others only in his 

company, surprised. 

Faithfully taken out of the report of Master 

Christopher Ceely, Ellis Hixom, and others, 

who were in the same Voyage with him ; 

By Philip Nichols, Preacher. 

Reviewed also by Sir Francis Drake himself, 

before his death ; and much hulpen and enlarged 

by divers notes, with his own hand, 

here and there inserted. 

Set forth by Sir Francis Drake, Baronet, 
(his nephew) now living. 


Printed by E. A. for Nicholas Bourne, 

dwelling at the South Entrance of the 

Royal Exchange. 1626. 


^ 4-4^'4^4M^-^^^4:4^ 44^4^ 





Great Britain, France, and Ireland, King, 

all the blessings of this, and a better life. 

Most gracious Sovereign, 

Hat this brief Treatise is yours, both by right and 
by succession, will appear by the Author's and 
Actor's ensuing Dedication. To praise either 
the Mistress or the Servant, might justly incur 
the censure of Quis eos nnquam sanus vitnperavit ; cither's 
worth having sufficiently blazed their fame. 

This Present loseth nothing, by glancing on former 
actions ; and the observation of passed adventures may 
probably advantage future employments. Cesar wrote his 
own Commentaries; and this Doer was partly the Inditor. 
Neither is there wanting living testimony to confirm its 

For his sake, then, cherish what is good ! and I shall 
willingly entertain check for what is amiss. Your favour- 
able acceptance may encourage my collecting of more 
neglected notes ! However, though Virtue, as Lands, be 
not inheritable ; yet hath he left of his Name, one that 
resolves, and therein joys to approve himself 

Your most humble and loyal subject, 

Francis D k ake [Bart.]. 



The Dedicatory Epistle^ intended to ilueen 


Written by Sir Francis Drake, deceased. 

To the Queen's most excellent Majesty, 

my most dread Sovereign. 

Being divers have diversely reported and written of 
these Voyages and Actions which I have attempted 
and made, every one endeavouring to bring to light 
whatsoever inklings or conjectures they have had ; 
ivherehy many untruths have been published, and the certain 
truth concealed : as [so] / have thought it necessary myself, as 
in a Card [chart] to prick the principal points of the counsels 
taken, attempts made, and success had, during the whole course of 
my employment in these services against the Spaniard. Not as 
setting sail for maintaining my reputation in men^s judgement, 
but only as sitting at helm, if occasion shall be, for conducting 
the like actions hereafter. So I have accounted it my duty, to 
present this Discourse to Your Majesty, as of right ; either for 
itself being the firstfruits of your Servant's pen, or for the matter, 
being service done to Your Majesty by your pool' vassal, againd 

^'' '■ ^ jM.' S'J Dt^DicATORY Epistle to Elizabkth. 491 

yotir great Enetny : at times, in such places, and after such sort 
as may seem strange to those that are not acquainted with the 
whole carriage thereof ; but will be a pleasing remembrance to 
Your Hightess, who take the apparent height of the Almighty's 
favour towards you, by these events, as truest instruments. 

Humbly submitting myself to Your gracious censure, both in 
writing and presenting; that Posterity be not deprived of such 
help as many happily be gained hereby, and our present Age, 
at least, may be satisfied, in the rightfulness of these actions, 
which hitherto have been silenced : and Your Servant's labour not 
seem altogether lost, not only in travels by sea and land, but also 
in writing the Report thereof (a work to him no less troublesome) 
yet made pleasant and sweet, in that it hath been, is, and shall be 
for Your Majesty's content ; to whom I have devoted myself [and] 
live or die. 

Francis Drake [Knight]. 

January i, 1592 [i.e., 1593]. 

492 To THE COURTEOUS Reader. [''^' 

ir F Drake, Bt. 
'i 1626. 


Honest Reader, 

Uthout apology, I desire thee, in this ensuing Dis- 
course, to observe, with me, the power and justice of tht 
LORD of Hosts, Who coidd enable so mean a person 
to right himself tipon so mighty a Prince; together 
with the goodness and providence of GOD very observ- 
able in that it pleased Him to raise this man, not only from a low 
condition, but even from the state of persecution. His father 
suffered in it, being forced to fly from his house, near South 
Tavistock in Devon, into Kent : and there to inhabit in the hidl 
of a ship, wherein many of his younger sons were born. He had 
twelve in all: and as it pleased GOD to give most of them a being 
upon the water, so the greatest part of them died at sea. The 
youngest, who though he was [went] as far as any, yet died at home ; 
whose posterity inherits that, which by himself and this noble 
Gentleman the eldest brother, was hardly, yet worthily gotten. 

I cotdd more largely acquaint thee, that this Voyage was his 
Third he made into the West Indies ; after that [of] his excellent 
service, both by sea and land, in Ireland, binder Walter, Earl 
of Essex ; his next, about the World ; another, wherein he took 
St. Jago, Cartagena, St. Domingo, St. Augustino ; his doings 
at Cadiz ; besides the first C arrack taught by him to sail into 
England; his stirrings in Eighty-seven ; his remarkable actions 
in Eighty-eight; his endeavours in the Portugal employment ; 
his last enterprise, determined by death ; and his filling Plymouth 
-with a plentiful stream of fresh water: btit I pass by all these. 
I had rather thou shoiddest inquire of others ! then to seem myself 
a vainglorious man. 

I intend not his praise ! I strive only to set out the praise 
of his and our good GOD ! that guided him in his truth I and 
protected him in his courses ! My ends are to stir thee up to 
the worship of GOD, and service of our King and Country, by 
his example ! If anything be worth thy co7isideration ; conclude 
with me, that the LORD only, can do great things ! 

F RANC I s D R AKE [Bart.] 


Sir Francis Drake revived; 

Callmg upon this dull or effeminate Age, to follow his 
noble steps for gold and silver. 

S THERE is a general Vengeance which 
secretly pursueth the doers of wrong, and 
suffereth them not to prosper, albeit no 
man of purpose empeach them: so is there 
a particular Indignation, engraffed in the 
bosom of all that are wronged, which 
ceaseth not seeking, by all means possible, 
to redress or remedy the wrong received. 
Insomuch as those great and mighty men, in whom their 
prosperous estate hath bred such an overweening of them- 
selves, that they do not only wrong their inferiors, but despise 
them being injured, seem to take a very unfit course for 
their own safety, and far unfitter for their rest. For as 
Esop teacheth, even the fly hath her spleen, and the emmet 
{ant] is not without her choler; and both together many 
times find means whereby, though the eagle lays her eggs in 
Jupiter's lap, yet by one way or other, she escapeth not 
requital of her wrong done [to] the emmet. 

Among the manifold examples hereof, which former Ages 
have committed to memory, or our Time yielded to sight : 
I suppose, there hath not been any more notable then this 
in hand ; either in respect of the greatness of the person by 
whom the first injury was offered, or the meanness of him 
who righted himself. The one being, in his own conceit, 
the mightiest Monarch of all the world ! The other, an 
English Captain, a mean subject of her Majesty's ! Who 
(beside the wrongs received at Rio de |la] Hacha with Captain 

494 F. Drake's particular Indign^\tion\ [|^^f.'d^^£°''i593. 

John Lovell in the years [15I65 and [15] 66) having been 
grievously endamaged at San Juan de Ulua in the Bay of 
Mexico, with Captain John Hawkins, in the years [if)]6j 
and [15] 68, not only in the loss of his goods of some value, 
but also of his kinsmen and friends, and that by the false- 
hood of Don Martin Henriquez then the Viceroy of 
Mexico ; and finding that no recompense could be recovered 
out of Spain, by any of his own means, or by Her Majesty's 
letters ; he used such helps as he might, by two several 
voyages into the West Indies (the first with two ships, the 
one called the Dnv^on, the other the Swan, in the year 
[15J70: the other in the Swan alone in the year [15171), to 
gain such intelligences as might further him, to get some 
amends for his loss. 

And having, in those two Voyages, gotten such certain 
notice of the persons and places aimed at, as he thought 
requisite, and thereupon with good deliberation resolved on 
a Third Voyage (the description whereof we have now in 
hand) ; he accordingly prepared his ships and company, and 
then taking the first opportunity of a good wind, had such suc- 
cess in his proceedings, as now follows further to be declared. 

On Whitsunday Eve, being the 24th of May, in the year 
1572, Captain Drake in the Pascha of Plymouth of 70 tons, 
his admiral [flagship] ; with the Swan of the same port, of 
25 tons, his vice-admiral, in which his brother John Drake 
was Captain (having in both of them, of men and boys 
seventy-three, all voluntarily assembled ; of which the eldest 
was fifty, all the rest under thirty : so divided that there were 
forty-seven in Jthe one ship, and twenty-six in the other. Both 
richly furnished with victuals and apparel for a whole year ; 
and no less heedfully provided of all manner of munition, artil- 
lery, artificers, stuff and tools, that were requisite for such a 
Man-of-war in such an attempt : but especially having three 
dainty pinnaces made in Plymouth, taken asunder all in 
pieces, and stowed aboard, to be set up as occasion served), 
set sail, from out of the Sound of Plymouth, with intent to 
land at Nombre de Dios. 

The wind continued prosperous and favourable at north- 
east, and gave us a very good passage, without any alteration 

SrF^'bS^'^isL] A 1^ J^ 1 V A I. A T P O K T P II E A S A X T. 495 

or change: so that albeit we had sight (3rd June) of Porte 
Santo, one of the Madeiras, and of the Canaries also within 
twelve days of our setting forth : yet we never struck sail, 
nor came to anchor, nor made any stay for an\- cause, neither 
there nor elsewhere, until twenty-five days after ; when 28th 
June) we had sight of the island of Guadaloupe, one of the 
islands of the West Indies, goodly high land. 

The next morning(29th June),we entered between Dominica 
and Guadaloupe, where we descried two canoes coming from 
a rocky island, three leagues off Dominica; which usually 
repair thither to fish, by reason of the great plenty thereof, 
which is there continually to be found. 

We landed on the south side of it, remaining there three 
days to refresh our men ; and to water our ships out of one 
of those goodly rivers, which fall down off the mountain. 
There we saw certain poor cottages; built with Palmito 
boughs and branches; but no inhabitants, at that time, civil 
or savage : the cottages it may be (for we could know no 
certain cause of the solitariness we found there) serving, not 
for continual inhabitation, but only for their uses, that came 
to that place at certain seasons to fish. 

The third day after (ist July), about three in the afternoon, 
we set sail from thence, toward the continent of Terra firma. 

And the fifth day after (6th July), we had sight of the high 
land of Santa Marta ; but came not near the shore by ten 

But thence directed our course, for a place called by us, 
Port Pheasant; for that our Captain had so named it in his 
former voyage, by reason of the great store of those goodly 
fowls, which he and his company did then daily kill and feed 
on, in that place. In this course notwithstanding we had 
two days calm, yet within six days after we arrived (12th 
July) at Port Pheasant, which is a fine round bay, of very safe 
harbour for all winds, lying between two high points, not 
past half a cable's length over at the mouth, but within, eight 
or ten cables' length every way, having ten or twelve fathoms 
of water more or less, full of good fish ; the soil also very 
fruitful, which may appear by this, that our Captain having 
been in this place, within a year and few days before [i.e., in 
July, 1571] and having rid the place with many alleys and 
paths made ; yet now all was so overgrown again, as that 

49^ Captain Garret's warning to them, [s; 

Rev. P. Nichols. ? 
Sir F. Drak«. 1593. 

we doubted, at first, whether this was the same place or 

At our entrance into this bay, our Captain having given 
order to his brother what to do, if any occasion should happen 
in his absence, was on his way, with intent to have gone 
aland with some few only in his company, because he knew 
there dwelt no Spaniards within thirty-five leagues of that 
place. [Santiago del Tolou being the nearest to the east- 
wards, and Nombre de Dios to the westwards, where any 
of that nation dwelt. 

But as we were rowing ashore, we saw a smoke in the 
woods, even near the place which our Captain had aforetime 
frequented; therefore thinking it fit to take more strength 
with us, he caused his other boat also to be manned, with 
certain muskets and other weapons, suspecting some enemy 
had been ashore. 

When we landed, we found by evident marks, that there 
had been lately there, a certain Englishman of Plymouth, 
called John Garret, who had been conducted thither by cer- 
tain English mariners which had been there with our Cap- 
tain, in some of his former voyages. He had now left a plate 
of lead, nailed fast to a mighty great tree (greater than any 
four men joining hands could fathom about) on which were 
engraven these words, directed to our Captain. 

Captain DRAKE! 

F YOU fortune to come to this Port, make haste away ! 
For the Spaniards which you had with you here, the 
last year, have bewrayed this place, and taken away 
all that you left here. 
I depart from hence, this present yth of July, 1572. 
Your very loving friend, 

John Garret. 

The smoke which we saw, was occasioned by a fire, which 
the said Garret and his company had made, before their 
departure, in a very great tree, not far from this which had 
the lead nailed on it ; which had continued burning at least 
five days before our arrival. 

This advertisement notwithstanding, our Captain meant 

l}.rF.''u^aL'!"''i3y!] Pl^NTAGON FORT AT PoRT PlIEASANT. 497 

not to depart before he had built his pinnaces; which were 
yet aboard in pieces : for which purpose he knew this port 
to be a most convenient place. 

And therefore as soon as we had moored our ships, our 
Captain commanded his pinnaces to be brought ashore for 
the carpenters to set up ; himself employing all his other 
company in fortifying a place (which he had chosen out, as a 
most fit plot) of three-quarters of an acre of ground, to make 
some strength or safety for the present, as sufficiently as the 
means he had would afford. Which was performed by fell- 
ing of great trees; bowsing and hauling them together, with 
great pulleys and hawsers, until they were enclosed to the 
water ; and then letting others fall upon them, until they had 
raised with trees and boughs thirty feet in height round 
about, leaving only one gate to issue at, near the water side; 
which every night, that we might sleep in more safety and 
security, was shut up, with a great tree drawn athwart it. 

The whole plot was built in pentagonal form, to wit, of five 
equal sides and angles, of which angles two were toward the 
sea, and that side between them was left open, for the easy 
launching of our pinnaces : the other four equal sides were 
wholl}', excepting the gate before mentioned, firmly closed up. 

Without, instead of a trench, the ground was rid [laid hare] 
for fifty feet space, round about. The rest was very thick 
with trees, of which many were of those kinds which are never 
without green leaves, till they are dead at the root : excepting 
only one kind of tree amongst them, much like to our Ash, which 
when the sun cometh right over them, causing great rains, 
suddenly casteth all its leaves, viz., within three days, and 
}et within six days after becomes all green again. The 
leaves of the other trees do also in part fall away, but so as 
the trees continue still green notwithstanding: being of a mar- 
vellous height, and supported as it were with five or six 
natural buttresses growing out of their bodies so far, that three 
men may so be hidden in each of them, that they which shall 
stand in the very next buttress shall not be able to see them. 
One of them specially was marked to have had seven of those 
stays or buttresses, for the supporting of his greatness and 
height, which being measured with a line close by the bark 
and near to the ground, as it was indented or extant, was 
found to be above thirty-nine yards about. The wood of 

Ilxii. Cai;. V. 3^ 

49S Captain Ranse's ship joins tiiem. [sirF.^Dr^ke^°'''593. 

those trees is as heavy or heavier than Brazil or Lignum 
vitce ; and is in colour white. 

The next day after we had arrived (13th July), there came 
also into that hay, an English bark of the Isle of Wight, of 
Sir Edward Horsey's ; wherein James Ranse was Captain 
and John Overv, Master, with thirty men : of which, some 
had been with our Captain in the same place, the year before. 
They brought in with them a Spanish caravel of Seville, 
which he had taken the day before, athwart of that place ; 
being a Caravel of Adviso [Despatch boat] bound for N ombre 
de Dios ; and also one shallop with oars, which he had taken 
at Cape Blanc. This Captain Ranse understanding our 
Captain's purpose, was desirous to join in consort with him; 
and was received upon conditions agreed on between them. 

Within seven days after his coming, having set up our 
pinnaces, and despatched all our business, in providing all 
things necessary, out of our ships into our pinnaces: we de- 
parted (20th July) from that harbour, setting sail in the 
morning towards Nombre de Dios, continuing our course 
till we came to the Isles of Pinos : where, being within three 
days arrived, we found (22nd July) two frigates of Nombre 
de Dios lading plank and timber from thence. 

The Negroes which were in those frigates, gave us some 
particular understanding of the present state of the town ; 
and besides, told us that they had heard a report, that certain 
soldiers should come thither shortly, and were daily looked for, 
from the Governor of Panama, and the country thereabout, 
to defend the town against the Cimarocns (a black people, 
which about eighty years past [i.e., 1512] fled from the 
Spaniards their masters, by reason of their cruelty, and are 
since grown to a Nation, under two Kings of their own : the 
one inhabiteth to the West, and the other to the East of the 
Way from Nombre de Dios to Panama) which had nearly 
surprised it [i.e., Nombre de Dios], about six weeks before 
[i.e., about 10th June, 1572]. 

Our Captain willing to use those Negroes well (not hurting 
himself) set them ashore upon the Main, that they might 
perhaps join themselves to their countrymen the Cimaroons, 
and gain their liberty if they would ; or if they would not, . 
yet by reason of the length and troublesomeness of the way 
by land to Nombre de Dios, he might prevent any notice of 

Rev. P. Nichols 
Sir F. Drake 


his coming, which they should be able to give. For he was 
loath to put the town to too much charge (which he knew 
they would willingly bestow) in providing beforehand for his 
entertainment ; and therefore he hastened his going thither, 
with as much speed and secrecy as possibl)' he could. 

To this end, disposing of all his companies, according as 
they inclined most ; he left the three ships and the caravel 
with Captain Ranse ; and chose into his four pinnaces (Cap- 
tain Ranse's shallop made the fourth) beside fifty-three of 
our men, twenty more of Captain Ranse's company; with 
which he seemed competently furnished, to achieve what he 
intended ; especially having proportioned, according to his 
own purpose, and our men's disposition, their several arms, 
viz., six targets, six firepikes, twelve pikes, twenty-four 
muskets and calivers, sixteen bows, and six partisans, two 
drums, and two trumpets. 

Thus having parted (23rd July) from our company: we 
arrived at the island of Cativaas, being twenty-five leagues 
distant, about five days afterward (28th July). There we 
landed all in the morning betimes : and our Captain trained 
his men, delivering them their several weapons and arms 
which hitherto he had kept very fair and safe in good caske 
[casks]: and exhorting them after his manner, he declared 
" the greatness of the hope of good things that was there ! the 
weakness of the town, being unwalled ! and the hope he had 
of prevailing to recompense his wrongs ! especially now that 
he should come with such a crew, who were like-minded with 
himself; and at such a time, as he should be utterly undis- 

Therefore, even that afternoon, he causeth us to set sail 
for Nombre de Dios, so that before sunset we were as far as 
Rio Francisco. Thence, he led us hard aboard the shore, 
that we might not be descried of the Watch House, until 
that being come within two leagues of the point of the bay, 
he caused us to strike a hull, and cast our grappcrs [? gi'tipp- 
li]i<:[ irons], riding so until it was dark night. 

Then we weighed again, and set sail, rowing hard aboard 
the shore, with as much silence as we could, till we recovered 
the point of the harbourunder the high land. There, we stayed, 
all silent; purposing to attempt the town in the dawning 
of the day : after that we hud reposed ourselves, for a while. 


P. NV)ioIs. ? 
F. Drake. 1593. 

But our Captain with some other of his best men, finding 
that our people were talking of the greatness of the town, 
and what their strength might be ; especially by the report 
of the Negroes that we took at the Isle of Pinos : thought it 
best to put these conceits out of their heads, and therefore to 
take the opportunity of the rising of the moon that night, 
persuading them that " it was the day dawning." By this 
occasion we were at the town a large hour sooner then first 
was purposed. For we arrived there by three of the clock 
after midnight. At what time it fortuned that a ship of 
Spain, of 60 tons, laden with Canary wines and other com- 
modities, which had but lately come into the bay ; and had 
not yet furled her sprit-sail (espying our four pinnaces, being 
an extraordinary number, and those rowing with many oars) 
sent away her gundeloe 1? i^^ondola^ towards the town, to give 
warning. But our Captain perceiving it, cut betwixt her and 
the town, forcing her to go to the other side of the bay : 
whereby we landed without impeachment, although we found 
one gunner upon the Platform [battery] in the very place 
where we landed ; being a sandy place and no key [quay] at 
all, not past twent}- yards from the houses. 

There we found six great pieces of brass ordnance, mounted 
upon their carriages, some Demy, some Whole-Culvering. 

We presently dismounted them. The gunner lied. The 
town took alarm (being very ready thereto, by reason of their 
often disquieting by their near neighbours the Cimaroons) ; 
as we perceived, not only by the noise and cries of the people, 
but by the bell ringing out, and drums running up and down 
the town. 

Our Captain, according to the directions which he had 
given over night, to such as he had made choice of for the 
purpose, left twelve to keep the pinnaces; that we might be 
sure of a safe retreat, if the worst befell. And having made 
sure work of the Platform before he would enter the town, he 
thought best, first to view the Mount on the east side of the 
town : where he was informed, by sundr}- intelligences the year 
before, they had an intent to plant ordnance, which might 
scour round about the town. 

Therefore, leaving one half of his company to make a stand 
at the foot of the Mount, he marched up presentl)' unto the top 
of it, with all speed to try the truth of the report, for the more 

IrF.^Dmkil'Vo] '""^^ "O^'^ THE TOWN FOR A NIGHT. 50I 

safety. There we found no piece of ordnance, but only a 
very fit place prepared for such use, and therefore we left it 
without any of our men, and with all celerity returned now 
down the Mount. 

Then our Captain appointed his brother, with John Oxxam 
[or OXENHAM] and sixteen other of his men, to go about, behind 
the King's Treasure House, and enter near the ejister[n] end 
of the Market Place : himself with the rest, would pass up the 
broad street into the Market Place, with sound of drum and 
trumpet. The Firepikes, divided half to the one, and half to 
the other company, served no less for fright to the enemy th m 
light of our men, who by his means might discern every place 
very well, as if it were near day : whereas the inhabitants stood 
arnazed at so strange a sight, marvelling what the matter 
might be, and imagining, by reason of our drums and trum- 
pets sounding in so sundry places, that we had been a far 
greater number then we were. 

Yet, by means of the soldiers of which were in the town, 
and by reason of the time which we spent in marching up and 
down the Mount, the soldiers and inhabitants had put them- 
selves in arms, and brought their companies in some order, at 
the south-east end of the Market Place, near the Governor's 
House, and not far from the gate of the town, which is the 
only one, leading towards Panama : having (as it seems) 
gathered themselves thither, either that in the Governt^r's 
sight they might shew their valour, if it might prevail ; or 
else, that by the gate, they might best take their Vale, and 
escape readiest. 

And to make a shew of far greater numbers of shot, or else 
of a custom they had, by the like device to terrify the 
Cimaroons ; they had hung lines with matches lighted, over- 
thwart the western] end of the Market Place, between the 
Church and the Cross; as though there had been in a readi- 
ness some company of shot, whereas indeed there were not 
past two or three that taught these lines to dance, till they 
themselves ran away, as soon as they perceived they were 

But the soldiers and such as were joined with them, pre- 
sented us with a jolly hot volley of shot, beating full upon 
the full egress of that street, in which we marched ; and level- 
ling very low, so as their bullets ofttimes grazed on the sand. 

502 The town has 360 tons of silver; [si^ 

.'. p. Nichols. ? 
F. Drake. 1593- 

We stood not to answer them in like terms : but havin.s; 
discharged our first volley of shot, and feathered them with 
our arrows (which our Captain had caused to be made of 
purpose in Enj^land ; not great sheaf arrows, but fine roving 
shafts, very carefully reserved for the service) we came to 
tlie push of pike, so that our firepikes being well armed and 
made of purpose, did us very great service. 

For our men with their pikes and short weapons, in short 
time took such order among these gallants (some using the 
butt-end of their pieces instead of other weapons), that partly 
by reason of our arrows which did us there notable service, 
partly by occasion of this strange and sudden closing with 
them in this manner unlocked for, and the rather for that at 
the very instant, our Captain's brother, with the other com- 
pany, with their firepikes, entered the Market Place by the 
easter[n] street : they casting down their weapons, fled all out 
of the town by the gate aforesaid, which had been built for a 
bar to keep out of the town the Cimaroons, who had often 
assailed it ; but now served for a gap for the Spaniards to lly 

In following, and returning; divers of our men were hurt 
with the weapons which the enemy had let fall as he fled ; 
somewhat, for that we marched with such speed, but more for 
that they lay so thick and cross one on the other. 

Being returned, we made our stand near the midst of the 
Market Place, where a tree groweth hard by the Cross ; 
whence our Captain sent some of our men to stay the ringing 
of the alarm bell, which had continued all this while : but 
the church being very strongly built and fast shut, they 
could not without firing (which our Captain forbade) get into 
the steeple where the bell rung. 

In the meantime, our Captain having taken two or three 
Spaniards in their flight, commanded them to shew him the 
Governor's House, where he understood was the ordinary 
place of unlading the moiles [mides] of all the treasure which 
came from Panama by the King's appointment. Although 
the silver only was kept there ; the gold, pearl, and jewels 
(being there once entered by the King's officer) was carried 
from thence to the King's Treasure House not far off, being 
a house very strongly built of lime and stone, for the safe 
keeping thereof. 



At our coming to the Governor's House, we found the 
great door where the mules do usually unlade, even then 
opened, a candle lighted upon the top of the stairs; and a 
fair gennet ready saddled, either for the Governor himself, or 
some other of his household to carry it after him. By means 
of this light we saw a huge heap of silver in that nether 
[lower] room ; being a pile of bars of silver of, as near as we 
could guess, seventy feet in length, of ten feet in breath, and 
twelve feet in height, piled up against the wall, each bar 
was between thirty-five and forty pounds in weight. 

At sight hereof, our Captain commanded straightly that 
none of us should touch a bar of silver; but stand upon our 
weapons, because the town was full of people, and there was 
in the King's Treasure House near the water side, more gold 
and jewels than all our four pinnaces could carry: which we 
would presently set some in hand to break open, notwith- 
standing the Spaniards report the strength of it. 

We were no sooner returned to our strength, but there was 
a report brought by some of our men that our pinnaces were 
in danger to be taken; and that if we ourselves got not 
aboard before day, we should be oppressed with multitude 
both of soldiers and towns people. This report had his 
ground from one Diego a Negro, who, in the time of the first 
conthct, came and called to our pinnaces, to know " whether 
they were Captain Drake's ? " And upon answer received, 
continued entreating to be taken aboard, though he had first 
three or four shot made at him, until at length they fetched 
him ; and learned by him, that, not past eight days before 
our arrival, the King had sent thither some'150 soldiers to 
guard the town against the Cimaroons, and the town at this 
time was full of people beside : which all the rather believed, 
because it agreed with tlie report of the Negroes, which we 
took before at the Isle of Pinos. And therefore our Captain 
sent his brother and John Oxnam to understand the 
truth thereof. 

They found our men which we left in our pinnaces much 
frightened, by reason that they saw great troops and com- 
panies running up and down, with matches lighted, some 
with other weapons, crying Que gcntc? que gentel which not 
having been at the first conflict, but coming from the utter 
ends of the town (being at least as big as Plymouth), came 

504 Drake wounded. They leave the [s^f.^dS'^^j. 

many times near us ; and understanding that we were 
English, discharged their pieces and ran away. 

Presently after this, a mighty shower of rain, with a terrihle 
storm of thunder and lightning, fell, which poured down so 
vehemently (as it usually doth in those countries) that before 
we could recover the shelter of a certain shade or pent- 
house at the western end of the King's Treasure House, 
(which seemeth to have been built there of purpose to avoid 
sun and rain) some of our bow-strings were wet, and some of 
our match and powder hurt ! which while we were careful of, 
to refurnish and supply; divers of our men harping on the 
reports lately brought us, were muttering of the forces of 
the town, which our Captain perceiving, told them, that " He 
had brought them to the mouth of the Treasure of the World, 
if they would want it, they might henceforth blame nobody 
but themselves! " 

And therefore as soon as the storm began to assuage of his 
fury (which was a long half hour) willing to give his men no 
longer leisure to demur of those doubts, nor yet allow the 
enemy farther respite to gather themselves together, he stept 
forward commanding his brother, with John Oxnam and the 
company appointed them, to break the King's Treasure 
House : the rest to follow him to keep the strength of the 
Market Place, till they had despatched the business for which 
they came. 

But as he stepped forward, his strength and sight and 
speech failed him, and he began to faint for want of blood, 
which, as then we perceived, had, in great quantity, issued 
upon the sand, out of a wound received in his leg in the first 
encounter, whereby though he felt some pain, yet (for that he 
perceived divers of the company, having already gotten many 
good things, to be very ready to take all occasions, of winding 
themselves out of that conceited danger) would he not have 
it known to any, till this his fainting, against his will, be- 
wrayed it: the blood having first filled the very prints which 
our footsteps made, to the greater dismay of all our company, 
who thought it not credible that one man should be able to 
spare so much blood and live. 

And therefore even the}', which were willing to have 
adventured the most for so fair a booty, would in no case 
hazard their Captain's life ; but (^having given him somewhat 

Rev. P. Nitliols. 
Sir F. Drake 

',-^3.] Treasure of tiieWohed, to save iii:,f, 505 

to drink wherewith he recovered himself, and having bound 
his scarf about his leg, for the stopping of the blood) entreated 
him to be content to go with them aboard, there to have his 
wound searched and dressed, and then to return on shore 
again if he thought good. 

This when they could not persuade him unto (as who knew 
it to be utterly impossible, at least very unlikely, that ever they 
should, for that time, return again, to recover the state in 
which they now were: and was of opinion, that it were more 
honourable for himself, to jeopard his life for so great a benefit, 
than to leave off so high an enterprise unperformed), they 
joined altogether and with force mingled with fair entreaty, 
they bare him aboard his pinnace, and so abandoned a most 
rich spoil for the present, only to preserve their Captain's life: 
and being resolved of him, that while they enjoyed his pres- 
ence, and had him to command them, they might recover 
wealth sufficient ; but if once they lost him, they should 
hardly be able to recover home. No, not with that which 
they had gotten already. 

Thus we embarked by break of the day (29th July), having 
besides our Captain, many of our men wounded, though none 
slain but one Trumpeter: whereupon though our surgeons 
were busily employed, in providing remedies and salves for 
their wounds : yet the main care of our Captain was respected 
by all the rest ; so that before we departed out of the har- 
bour for the more comfort of our company, we took the afore- 
said ship of wines v/ithout great resistance. 

Hut before we had her free of the haven, they of the town 
had made means to bring one of their culverins, which we 
had dismounted, so as they made a shot at us, but hindered 
us not from carrying forth the prize to the Isle of Bastimcntus, 
or the Isle of Victuals : which is an island that lieth without 
the bay to the westward, about a league off the town, where 
we stayed the two next days, to cure our wounded men, and 
refresh ourselves, in the goodly gardens which we there found 
abounding with great store of all dainty roots and fruits ; be- 
sides great plenty of poultry and other fowls, no less strange 
then delicate. 

Shortly upon our first arrival in this island, the Governor 
and the rest of his Assistants in the town, as we afterwards 
understood, sent unto our Captain, a proper gentlcnnin, of 

5o6 The Spaniards' "gold iiARVESTwiiERE-g7F.^LS''''593. 

mean stature, good complexion, and a fair spoken, a princi- 
pal soldier of the late sent garrison, to view in what state we 
were. At his coming he protested " He came to us, of mere 
good will, for that we had attempted so great and incredible 
a matter with so few men : and that, at the first, they feared 
that we had been French, at whose hands they knew they 
should find no mercy : but after they perceived by our arrows, 
that we were Englishmen, their fears were the less, for that 
they knew, that though we took the treasure of the place, 
yet we would not use cruelty toward their persons. But 
albeit this his affection gave him cause enough, to come 
aboard such, whose virtue he so honoured : yet the Governor 
also had not only consented to his coming, but directly 
sent him, upon occasion that divers of the town affirmed, 
said he, 'that they knew our Captain, who the last two 
years had been often on our coast, and had always used 
their persons very well.' And therefore desired to know, first. 
Whether our Captain was the same Captain Drake or not ? 
and next. Because many of their men were wounded with 
our arrows, whether they were poisoned or not ? and how 
their wounds might best be cured? lastly, What victuals we 
wanted, or other necessaries ? of which the Governor pro- 
mised by him to supply and furnish us, as largely as he 

Our Captain, although he thought this soldier but a sp}^ : 
yet used him very courteously, and answered him to his 
Governor's demands : that " He was the same Drake whom 
they meant ! It was never his manner to poison his arrows! 
They might cure their wounded by ordinary surgery ! As for 
wants, he knew the Island of Bastimcntos had sufficient, and 
could furnish him if he listed ! but he wanted nothing but 
some of that special commodity which that country yielded, 
to content himself and his company." And therefore he ad- 
vised the Governor "to hold open his eyes ! for before he de- 
parted, if GOD lent him life and leave, he meant to reap 
some of their harvset, which they get out of the earth, and 
send into Spain to trouble all the earth ! " 

To this answer unlooked for, this gentleman replied, " If 
he might, without offence, move such a question, what should 
then be the cause of our departing from that town at this 
time, where was above 360 tons of silver ready for the Fleet, 

SirF.^Dn,ke"''%9'3] ^^'^'^"^^ TIIEY TROUBLE ALL THE WORLD." 507 

and much more gold in value, resting in iron chests in the 
King's Treasure House ? " 

But when our Captain had shewed him the true cause of 
his unwilling retreat aboard, he acknowledged that " we had 
no less reason in departing, than courage in attempting": 
and no doubt did easily see, that it was not for the town to 
seek revenge of us, by manning forth such frigates or other 
vessels as they had; but better to content themselves and 
provide for their own defence. 

Thus, with great favour and courteous entertainment, 
besides such gifts from our Captain as most contented him, 
after dinner, he was in such sort dismissed, to make report of 
that he had seen, that he protested, "he was never so much 
honoured of any in his life." 

After his departure, the Negro forementioned, being ex- 
amined more fully, confirmed this report of the gold and the 
silver; with many other intelligences of importance: espe- 
cially how we might have gold and silver enough, if we 
would, by means of the Cimaroons, whom though he had 
betrayed divers times (being used thereto by his Masters) so 
that he knew they would kill him, if they got him : yet if our 
Captain would undertake his protection, he durst adventure 
his life, because he knew our Captain's name was most pre- 
cious and highly honoured by them. 

This report ministered occasion to further consultation : 
for which, because this place seemed not the safest; as being 
neither the healthiest nor quietest ; the next day, in the 
morning, we all set our course for the Isle of Pinos or Port 
Plenty, where we had left our ships, continuing all that day, 
and the next till towards night, before we recovered it. 

We were the longer in this course, for that our Captain 
sent away his brother and 1*2llls Hixom to the westward, to 
search the River of Chagres, where himself had been the year 
before, and yet was careful to gain more notice of ; it being a 
liver which trendeth to the southward, within six leagues of 
Panama, where is a little town called Venta Cru2 [Voita dc 
Cnizcs , whence all the treasure, that was usually brought 
thither from Panama by mules, was embarked in frigates 
[sailing] down that river into the North sea, and so to 
Nombre de Dios. 

It ebbeth and flowcth not far into the land, and therefore 

5oS Capt. Ranse leaves the expedition, [.fir F.^f)«ke 

Nichols. ? 

it asketh three days' rowing with a fine pinnace to pass [up] 
from the mouth to Venta Cruz ; but one day and a night 
serveth to return down the river. 

At onr return to our ships (ist August), in our consultation, 
Captain Ranse (forecasting divers doubts of our safe con- 
tinuance upon that coast, being now discovered) was wiUing 
to depart ; and our Captain no less willing to dismiss him : 
and therefore as soon as our pinnaces returned from Chagres 
(yth August) with such advertisement as they were sent for, 
about eight daj's before ; Captain Ranse took his leave, leaving 
us at the isle aforesaid, where we had remained five or six days. 

In which meantime, having put all things in a readiness, 
our Captain resolved, with his two ships and three pinnaces 
to go to Cartagena ; whither in sailing, we spent some six 
days by reason of the calms which came often upon us : but 
all this time we attempted nothing that we might have done 
by the way, neither at [Santiago del Tolou nor otherwhere, 
because we would not be discovered. 

We came to anchor with our two ships in the evening 
[13th August], in seven fathom water, between the island of 
Charesha [the island of Cartagena, p. 520] and St. Barnards 
[San Bernardo], 

Our Captain led the three pinnaces about the island, into 
the harbour of Cartagena ; where at the very entry, he 
found a frigate at anchor, aboard which was only one old 
man ; who being demanded, " Where the rest of his company 
was?" answered, "That they were gone ashore in their 
gundeloe [1 gondola or ship's boat^, that evening, to fight about 
a mistress": and voluntarily related to our Captain that, " two 
hours before night, there past by them a pinnace, with sail 
and oars, as fast as ever they could row, calling to him 
' Whether there had not been any English or Frenchmen 
there lately ? ' and upon answer that, ' There had been 
none ! ' they bid them * look to themselves I ' That, within an 
hour that this pinnace was come to the utterside [outside] of 
Cartagena, there were many great pieces shot off, where- 
upon one going to top, to descry what might be the cause ? 
espied, over the land, divers frigates and small shipping 
bringing themselves within the Castle." 

This report our Captain credited, the rather for that 
himself had heard the report of the ordnance at sea ; and 

b.rF.^!'''';593.] ^'^^^ ^^ '^'"^ HARBOUR OF Cartagena. 509 

perceived sufficiently, that he was now descried. Notwith- 
standin<< in farther examination of this old mariner, having 
understood, that there was, within the next point, a great 
ship of Seville, which had here discharged her loading, and 
rid now with her yards across, being bound the next morning 
for Santo Domingo : our Captain took this old man into his 
pinnace to verify that which he had informed, and rowed 
towards this ship, which as we came near it, hailed us, 
asking, " Whence our shallops were ? " 

We answered, " From Nombre de Dios 1 " 

Straightway they railed ! and reviled ! We gave no heed 
to their words, but every pinnace, according to our Captain's 
order, one on the starboard bow, the other on the starboard 
quarter, and the Captain in the midship on the larboard side, 
forthwith boarded her; though we had some difficulty to 
enter by reason of her height, being of 240 tons. But as 
soon as we entered upon the decks, we threw down the grates 
and spardecks, to prevent the Spaniards from annoying us 
with their close fights : who then perceiving that we were 
possessed of their ship, stowed themselves all in hold with 
their weapons, except two or three yonkers, which were 
found afore the beetes : when having light out of our pinnaces, 
we found no danger of the enemy remaining, we cut their 
cables at halse, and with our three pinnaces, towed her with- 
out the island into the sound right afore the town, without 
[beyond the] danger of their great shot. 

Meanwhile, the town having intelligence hereof, or by their 
watch, took the alarm, rang out their bells, shot off about 
thirty pieces of great ordnance, put all their men in a readi- 
ness, horse and foot, came down to the very point of the 
wood, and discharged their calivers, to impeach us if they 
might, in going forth. 

The next morning (14th August) our ships took two frigates, 
in which there were two, who called themselves King's 
Scrivanos, the one of Cartagena, the other of Veragua, with 
seven mariners and two Negroes : who had been at Nombre 
de Dios and were now bound for Cartagena with double 
I ? duplicate] letters of advice, to certify them that Captain 
Drake had been at Nombre de Dios, had taken it; and had it 
not been that he was hurt with some blessed shot, by all likelihood 
he had sacked it. He was yet still upon the coast ; they should 
therefore carefully prepare for him ! 

5IO Drake's device to sink the Sifj.v, \_^i7f^iji!^u.''\l3. 

After that our Captain had brought all his fleet together, at 
the Scrivanos' entreaties, he was content to do them all favour, 
in setting them and all their companies on shore ; and so 
bare thence with the islands of St. Bernards, about three 
leagues of the town : where we found great store of fish for 
our refreshing. 

Here, our Captain considering that he was now discovered 
upon the chieftest places of all the coast, and yet not mean- 
ing to leave it till he had found the Cimaroons, and " made " 
his voyage, as he had conceived ; which would require some 
length of time, and sure manning of his pinnaces : he deter- 
mined with himself, to burn one of the ships, and make the 
other a Storehouse; that his pinnaces (which could not 
otherwise) might be thoroughly manned, and so he might 
be able to abide any time. 

But knowing the affection of his company, how loath they 
were to leave either of their ships, being both so good sailers 
and so well furnished ; he purposed in himself by some policy, 
to make them most willing to effect that he intended. And 
therefore sent for one Thomas Moone, who was Carpenter in 
the Swan, and taking him into his cabin, chargeth him to 
conceal for a time, a piece of service, which he must in any 
case consent to do aboard his own ship : that was, in the 
middle of the second watch, to go down secretly into the well 
of the ship, and with a spike-gimlet, to bore three holes, as 
near the keel as he could, and lay something against it, that 
the force of the water entering, might make no great noise, nor 
be discovered by a boiling up. 

Thomas Moone at the hearing hereof, being utterly dis- 
mayed, desired to know " What cause there might be, to move 
him to sink so good a bark of his own, new and strong ; and 
that, by his means, who had been in two so rich and gainful 
voyages in her with himself heretofore : If his brother, the 
Master, and the rest of the company [numbering 26, see p. 494] 
should know of such his fact, he thought verily they would 
kill him." 

But when our Captain had imparted to him his cause, and 
had persuaded him with promise that it should not be known, 
till all of them should be glad of it : he understood it, and did 
it accordingly. 

The next morning [15th August] our Captain took his pinnace 

^.^^,.P- N[<^^°'^- • 1 IN ORDER TO MAN HIS RINNACES. 5II 

birr. Drake. :553.J ^ * >-' ^ 

very early, purposing to go a fishing, for that there is very 
great store on the coast ; and falling aboard the Swan, calleth 
for his brother to go with him, who rising suddenly, answereth 
that " He would follow presently, or if it would please him to 
stay a very little, he would attend him." 

Our Captain perceiving the feat wrought, would not hasten 
him ; but in rowing away, demanded of them, " Why their 
bark was so deep ? " as making no great account of it. But, 
by occasion of this demand, his brother sent one down to the 
Steward, to know " Whether there were any water in the 
ship ? or what other cause might be ? " 

The Steward, hastily stepping down at his usual scuttle, was 
wet up to his waist, and shifting with more haste to come up 
again as if the water had followed him, cried out that " The 
ship was full of water! " There was no need to hasten the com- 
pany, some to the pump, others to search for the leak, which 
the Captain of the bark seeing they did, on all hands, very 
willingly; he followed his brother, and certified him of "the 
strange chancebefallen them that night; that whereasthey had 
not pumped twice in six weeks before, now they had six feet of 
water in hold: and therefore he desireth leave from attending 
him in fishing, to intend the search and remedy of the leak." 
And when our Captain with his company preferred [offered] to 
go to help them; he answered, "They had men enough aboard, 
and prayed him to continue his fishing, that they might 
have some part of it for their dinner." Thus returning, he 
found his company had taken great pain, but had freed the 
water very little : yet such was their love to the bark, as our 
Captain well knew, that they ceased not, but to the utmost 
of their strength, laboured all that they might tiU three in 
the afternoon ; by which time, the company perceiving, that 
(though they had been relieved by our Captain himself and 
many of his company) yet they were not able to free above a 
foot and a half of water, and could have no likelihood of find- 
ing the leak, had now a less liking of her than before, and 
greater content to hear of some means for remedy. 

Whereupon our Captain (consulting them what they 
thought best to be done) found that they had more desire to 
have all as he thought fit, than judgement to conceive any 
means of remedy. And therefore he propounded, that him- 
self would go in the pinnace, til) he could provide him some 

512 Pascha hid in the Gulf of DARiEN.[^;^.^j.Pjj,^ifJ;°'-^;,j3_ 

handsome frigate; and that his brother should be Captain in 
the admiral [flag-ship] and the Master should also be there 
placed with him, instead of tliis : which seeing they could 
not save, he would have fired that the enemy might nei'er 
recover her : but first all the pinnaces should be brought 
aboard her, that every one might take out of her whatever 
they lacked or liked. 

This, though the company at the first marvelled at ; yet 
presently it was put in execution and performed that night. 

Our Captain had his desire, and menenough for his pinnaces. 

The next morning (i6th August) we resolved to seek out 
some fit place, in the Sound of Darien, where we might safely 
leave our ship at anchor, not discoverable by the enemy, who 
thereby might imagine us quite departed from the coast, and 
we the meantim.e better follow our purposes with our pin- 
naces; of which our Captain would himself take two to Rio 
Grande [Magdalena], and the third leave with his brother 
to seek the Cimaroons. 

Upon this resolution, we set sail presently for the said 
Sound ; which within five days (21st August) we recovered: 
abstaining of purpose from all such occasion, as might hinder 
our determination, or bewray \beiray] our being upon the coast. 

As soon as we arrived where our Captain intended, and 
had chosen a fit and convenient road out of all trade [to or 
from any Mart] for our purpose ; we reposed ourselves there, 
for some fifteen days, keeping ourselves close, that the bruit 
of our being upon the coast might cease. 

But in the meantime, we were not idle : for beside such 
ordinary works, as our Captain, every month did usually 
inure us to, about the trimming and setting of his pinnaces, 
for their better sailing and rowing : he caused us to rid a 
large plot of ground, both of trees and brakes, and to build us 
houses sufficient for all our lodging, and one especially for 
all our public meetings ; wherein the Negro which fled to us 
before, did us great service, as being well acquainted with the 
country, and their means of building. Our archers made 
themselves butts to shoot at, because we had many that 
delighted in that exercise, and wanted not a fletcher to keep 
our bows and arrows in order. The rest of the company, 
every one as he liked best, made his disport at bowls, quoits, 
keiles, &c. For our Captain allowed one half of the company 

lrF.^D«ke.°'\'5Ji.] Expedition up the Magdalena. 513 

to pass their time thus, every other day interchangeable ; the 
other half being enjoined to the necessary works, about our 
ship and pinnaces, and the providing of fresh victuals, fish, 
foul, hogs, deer, conies, &c., whereof there is great plent}'. 
Here our smiths set up their forge, as they used, being 
furnished out of England, with anvil, iron, coals, and all 
manner of necessaries, which stood us in great stead. 

At the end of these fifteen days (5th September), our Captain 
leaving his ship in his brother's charge, to keep all things in 
order ; himself took with him, according to his former deter- 
mination, two pinnaces for Rio Grande, and passing by 
Cartagena but out of sight, when we were within two leagues 
of the river, we landed (8th September) to the westward on the 
Main, where we saw great store of cattle. There we found 
some Indians, who asking us in friendly sort, in broken 
Spanish, " What we would have? " and understanding that 
we desired fresh victuals in traffic; they took such cattle 
for us as we needed, with ease aiwi so readily, as if they had 
a special commandment over them, whereas they would not 
abide us to come near them. And this also they did willingly, 
because our Captain, according to his custom, contented them 
for their pains, with such things as they account gieatly of; 
in such sort that they promised, we should have there of them 
at any time, what we would. 

The same day, we departed thence to Rio Grande [Mag- 
dalena], where we entered about three of the clock in the 
afternoon. There are two entries into this river, of which 
we entered the wester [n] most called Boca Chica. The freshet 
[current] is so great, that we being half a league from the 
mouth of it, filled fresh water for our beverage. 

From three o'clock till dark at night, we rowed up the 
stream ; but the current was so strong downwards, that we 
got but two leagues, all that time. We moored our pinnaces 
to a tree that night : for that presently, with the closing of the 
evening, there fell a monstrous shower of rain, with such 
strange and terrible claps of thunder, and flashes of lightning, 
as made us not a little to marvel at, although our Captain had 
been acquainted with such like in that country, and told us 
that they continue seldom longer than three-quarters of an hour. 

This storm was no sooner ceast, but it became very calm, 

jiAiS. f/.vA'. V. 33 

ShCatture of store of provisions. Lsi'p.Drak^e 

fRev. p. Nichols. 


and therewith there came such an innumerable multitude 
of a kind of flies of that country, called mosquitoes, like our 
gnats, which bite so spitefully, that we could not rest all that 
night, nor find means to defend ourselves from them, by 
reason of the heat of the country. The best remedy we then 
found against them, was the juice of lemons. 

At the break of day (gth Sept.), we departed, rowing in the 
eddy, and hauling up by the trees where the eddy failed, with 
great labour, by spells, without ceasing, each company their 
half-hourglass : without meetingany,till about three o'clock in 
the afternoon, by which time we couldget but five leaguesahead. 

Then we espied a canoe, with two Indians fishing in 
the river; but we spake not to them, least so we might be 
descried : nor they to us, as taking us to be Spaniards. But 
within an hour after, we espied certain houses, on the other 
side of the river, whose channel is twenty-five fathom deep, 
and its breadth so great, that a man can scantly be discerned 
from side to side. Yet a Spaniard which kept those houses, 
had espied our pinnaces ; and thinking we had been his 
countrymen, made a smoke, for a signal to turn that way, as 
being desirous to speak with us. Afier that, we espying this 
smoke, had made with it, and were ha f the river over, he 
wheaved [waved] to us, with his hat and his long hanging 
sleeves, to come ashore. 

But as we drew nearer to him, and he discerned that we 
were not those he looked for; he took his heels, and fled from 
his houses, which we found to be, five in number, all full of 
white rusk, dried bacon, that country cheese (like Holland 
cheese in fashion, but far more delicate in taste, of which 
they send into Spain as special presents) many sorts of 
sweetmeats, and conserves ; with great store of sugar : being 
provided to serve the Fleet returning to Spain. 

With this store of victuals, we loaded our pinnaces ; by the 
shutting in of the day, we were ready to depart ; for that we 
hastened the rather, by reason of an intelligence given us by 
certain Indian women which we found in those houses : that 
the frigates (these are ordinarily thirty, or upwards, which 
usually transport the merchandise, sent out of Spain to Car- 
tagena from thence to these houses, and so in great canoes 
up hence into Nuevo Reyno, for which, the river running 
many hundred of leagues within the land serveth very fitly : 

Sir F. brake.° Vsi] Drake's SECOND PORT, Port Plenty. 515 

and return in exchange, the gold and treasure, silver, victuals, 
and commodities, which that kingdom yields abundantly) 
were not yet returned from Cartagena, since the first alarm 
they took of our being there. 

As we were going aboard our pinnaces from these Store- 
houses (loth Sept.), the Indians of a great town called 
Villa del Rey, some two miles distant from the water's side 
where we landed, were brought down by the Spaniards into 
the bushes, and shot arrows ; but we rowed down the stream 
with the current (for that the wind was against us) only one 
league ; and because it was night, anchored till the morning, 
when we rowed down to the mouth of the river, where we 
unloaded all our provisions,- and cleansed our pinnaces, ac- 
cording to our Captain's custom, and took it in again, and 
the same day went to the Westward. 

In this return, we descried a ship, a barque, and a frigate, 
of which the ship and frigate went for Cartagena, but the 
Barque was bound to the Northwards, with the wind easterly, 
so that we imagined she had some gold or treasure going for 
Spain : therefore we gave her chase, but taking her, and find- 
mg nothing of importance in her, understanding that she was 
bound for sugar and hides, we let her go ; and having a good 
gale of wind, continued our former course to our ship and 

In the way between Cartagena and Tolou, we took [nth 
September] five or six frigates, which were laden from 
Tolou, with live hogs, hens, and maize which we call Guinea 
wheat. Of these, having gotten what intelligence they could 
give, of their preparations for us, and divers opinions of us, 
we dismissed all the men ; only staying two frigates with us, 
because they were so well stored with good victuals. 

Within three days after, we arrived at the place which our 
Captain chose, at first, to leave his ship in, which was called 
by our Captain, Port Plenty ; by reason we brought in thither 
continually all manner store of good victuals, which we took, 
going that way by sea, for the victualling of Cartagena and 
Nonibre de Dios as also the Fleets going and coming out of 
Spain. So that if we had been two thousand, yea three 
thousand persons, we might with our pinnaces easily have 
provided them sufficient victuals of wine, meal, rusk, cassavi 

5i6 Make ACQUAINTANCE WITH Cimaroons.[|7f.^dS 

P.Nichols. ? 

(a kind of bread made of a root called Yucca, whose juice is 
poison, but the substance good and wholesome), dried beef, 
dried fish, live sheep, live hogs, abundance of hens, besides 
the infinite store of dainty liesh fish, very easily to be taken 
every day; insomuch that we were forced to build four 
several magazines or storehouses, some ten, some twenty 
leagues asunder; some in islands, some in the Main, provid- 
ing ourselves in divers places, that though the enemy should, 
with force, surprise any one, yet we might be sufficiently 
furnished, till we had " made" our voyage as we did hope. 
In building of these, our Negro's help was very much, as 
having a special skill, in the speedy erection of such houses. 

This our store was much, as thereby we relieved not only 
ourselves and the Cimaroons while they were with us ; but 
also two French ships in extreme want. 

For in our absence. Captain John Drake, having one of 
our pinnaces, as was appointed, went in with the Main, and 
as he rowed aloof the shore, where he was directed by Diego 
the Negro aforesaid, which willingly came unto us at Nombre 
de Dios, he espied certain of the Cimaroons ; with whom he 
dealt so effectually, that in conclusion he left two of our men 
with their leader, and brought aboard two of theirs: agreeing 
that they should meet him again the next day, at a river 
midway between the Cabezas [Cabeza is Spanish for Head- 
land] and our ships ; which they named Rio Diego. 

These two being very sensible men, chosen out by their 
commander [chief], did, with all reverence and respect, de- 
clare unto our Captain, that their nation conceited great joy 
of his arrival, because they knew him to be an enemy to the 
Spaniards, not only by his late being in Nombre de Dios, but 
also by his former voyages; and therefore were ready to assist 
and favour his enterprises against his and their enemies to 
the uttermost : and to that end their captain and company 
did stay at this present near the mouth of Rio Diego, to at- 
tend what answer and order should be given them ; that they 
would have marched by land, even to this place, but that the 
way is very long, and more troublesome, by reason of many 
steep mountains, deep rivers, and thick brakes : desiring 
therefore, that it might please our Captain to take some order, 
as he thought best, with all convenient speed in this behalf. 

Our Captain considering the speech of these persons, and 

S*>.DS'e'!°'i593.] F^ND Cl MAROONS ON RiO DiEGO. 517 

weighing it with his former intelligences had not only by 
Negroes, but Spaniards also, whereof he was always very 
careful : as also conferring it with his brother's informations 
of the great kindness that they shewed him, being lately with 
them : after he had heard the opinions of those of best service 
with him, " what were fittest to be done presently ? " resolved 
himself with his brother, and the two Cimaroons, in his two 
pinnaces, to go toward this river. As he did the same evening, 
giving order, that the ship and the rest of his fleet should 
the next morning follow him, because there was a place of as 
great safety and sufficiency, which his brother had found out 
near the river. The safety of it consisted, not only in that 
which is common all along that coast from Tolou to Nombre 
de Dios, being above sixty leagues, that it is a most goodly 
and plentiful country, and yet inhabited not with one Spaniard, 
or any for the Spaniards : but especially in that it lieth among 
a great many of goodly islands full of trees. Where, though 
there be channels, yet there are such rocks and shoals, that 
no man can enter by night without great danger; nor by day 
without discovery, whereas our ships might lie hidden within 
the trees. 

The next day (14th September) we arrived at this fiver 
appointed, where we found the Cimaroons according to pro- 
mise : the rest of their number were a mile up, in a wood by 
the river's side. There after we had given them entertainment, 
and received good testimonies of their joy and good will 
towards us, we took two more of them into our pinnace, 
leaving our two men with the rest of theirs, to march by land, 
to another river called Rio Guana, with intent there to meet 
with another company of Cimaroons which were now in the 

So we departed that day from Rio Diego, with our pinnaces, 
towards our ship, as marvelling that she followed us not as 
was appointed. 

But two days after (i6th September), we found her in the 
place where we left her ; but in far other state, being much 
spoiled and in great danger, by reason of a tempest she had 
in our absence. 

As soon as we could trim our ship, being some two days, 
our Captain sent away (i8th September) one of his pinnaces, 
towards the bottom of the bay, amongst the shoals and sandy 


islands, to sound out the channel, for the bringing in of our 
ship nearer the Main. 

The next day (19th September) we followed, and were with 
wary pilotage, directed safely into the best channel, with 
much ado to recover the road, among so many flats and 
shoals. It was near about five leagues from the Cativaas, 
betwixt an island and the Main, where we moored our ship. 
The island was not above four cables in length from the 
Main, being in quantity some three acres of ground, flat and 
very full of trees and bushes. 

We were forced to spend the best part of three days, after 
our departure from our Port Plenty, before we were quiet in 
this new found road [on Rio Diego, see pp. 519 and 527] (22nd 
September), which we had but newly entered, when our two 
men and the former troop of Cimaroons, with twelve others 
whom they had met in the mountains, came (23rd September) 
in sight over against our ship, on the Main. Whence we 
fet[ched] them all aboard, to their great comfort and our 
content : they rejoicing that they should have some fit oppor- 
tunity to wreak their wrongs on the Spaniards ; we hoping 
that now our voyage should be bettered. 

At our first meeting, when our Captain had moved them, 
to shew him the means which they had to furnish him with 
gold and silver ; they answered plainly, that " had they known 
gold had been his desire ; they would have satisfied him with 
store, which, for the present, they could not do : because the 
rivers, in which they sunk great store (which they had taken 
from the Spaniards, rather to despite them than for love of 
gold) were now so high, that they could not get it out of 
such depths for him ; and because the Spaniards, in these 
rainy months, do not use [are not accustomed] to carry their 
treasure by land." 

This answer although it were somewhat unlooked for ; yet 
nothing discontented us, but rather persuaded us farther of 
their honest and faithful meaning toward us. Therefore our 
Captain to entertain these five months, commanded all our 
ordnance and artillery ashore, with all our other provisions : 
sending his pinnaces to the Main, to bring over great trees, 
to make a fort upon the same island, for the planting of all 
our ordnance therein, and for our safeguard, if the enemy, in 
all this time, should chance to come. 

sirF.^Dr^ake!"''i593-] r*ARTiNG OF Francis & John Drake. 519 

Our Cimaroons (24th September) cut down Palmito boughs 
and branches, and with wonderful speed raised up two large 
houses for all our company. Our fort was then made, by 
reason of the place, triangle-wise, with main timber, and earth 
of which the trench yielded us good store, so that we made it 
thirteen feet in height. [This fort is called Fort Diego at p. 527.] 

But after we had continued upon this island fourteen days, 
our Captain having determined, with three pinnaces, to go 
for Cartagena left (7th October), his brother John Drake, 
to govern these who remained behind with the Cimaroons to 
finish the fort which he had begun : for which he appointed 
him to fetch boards and planks, as many as his pinnaces 
would carry, from the prize we took at Rio Grande, and left 
at the Cativaas, where she drove ashore and wrecked in our 
absence: but now she might serve commodiously, to supply 
our use, in making platforms for our ordnance. Thus our 
Captain and his brother took their leave; the one to the 
Eastward, and the other to the Cativaas. 

That night, we came to an isle, which he called Spur-kite 
land, because we found there great store of such a 
kind of bird in shape, but very delicate, of which we killed 
and roasted many ; staying there till the next day midnoon 
(8th October), when we departed thence. And about four 
o'clock recovered a big island in our way, where we stayed 
all night, by reason that there was great store of fish, and 
especially of a great kind of shell-fish of a foot long. We 
called them Whelks. 

The next morning (9th October), we were clear of these 
islands and shoals, and hauled off into the sea. About four 
days after (13th October), near the island of St. Bernards, 
we chased two frigates ashore ; and recovering one of these 
islands, made our abode there some two days (i4th-i5th 
October) to wash our pinnaces and to take of the fish. 

Thence we went towards Tolou, and that day (i6th October) 
landed near the town in a garden, where we found certain 
Indians, who delivered us their bows and arrows, and gathered 
for us such fruit as the garden did yield, being many sorts of 
dainty fruits and roots, ^wej still contenting them for what we 
received. Our Captain's principal intent in taking this and 
other places by the way, not being for any other cause, but 

520 l8 DAYS OFF CaRTAGENA HARBOUK. [sirF-D^ake^'^J; 

only to learn true intelligence of the state Oi'" the country and 
of the Fleets. 

Hence we departed presently, and rowed towards Charesha, 
the island of Cartagena; and entered in at Bocha Chica, 
and having the wind large, we sailed in towards the city, and 
let fall our grappers [grapling irons] betwixt the island and 
the Main, right over against the goodly Garden Island. In 
which, our Captain would not suffer us to land, notwithstand- 
ing our importunate desire, because he knew, it might be 
dangerous : for that they are wont to send soldiers thither, 
when they know of any Men-of-war on the coast ; which 
we found accordingly. For within three hours after, passing 
by the point of the island, we had a volley of a hundred shot 
from them, and yet there was but one of our men hurt. 

This evening (i6th October) we departed to sea ; and the 
day following (17th October), being some two leagues off the 
harbour, we took a bark, and found that the captain and 
his wife with the better sort of the passengers, had forsaken 
her, and were gone ashore in the Gundeloe [ship's boat] : by 
occasion whereof we boarded without resistance, though they 
were well provided with swords and targets and some small 
shot, besides four iron bases. She was 50 tons, having ten 
mariners, five or six Negroes, great store of soap and sweet 
meat, bound from St. Domingo to Cartagena. This Captain 
left behind him a silk ancient [flag] with his arms ; as might 
be thought, in hasty departing. 

The next day (i8th October), we sent all the company 
ashore to seek their masters, saving a young Negro two or 
three years old, which we brought away; but kept the bark, 
and in her, bore into the mouth of Cartagena harbour, where 
we anchored. 

That afternoon, certain horsemen came down to the point 
by the wood side, and with the Scrivano {ore-mentioned, came 
towards our bark with a flag of truce, desiring of our 
Captain's safe conduct for his coming and going; the which 
being granted, he came aboard us, giving our Captain " great 
thanks for his manifold favours, &c., promising that night 
before daybreak, to bring as much victuals as they would 
desire, what shift so ever he made, or what danger soever 
incurred of law and punishment." But this fell out to 
be nothing but a device of the Governor forced upon the 

sirF.^braki!°'V593] Skirmishing with the Spaniards. 521 

Scrivano, to delay time, till they might provide themselves of 
sufficient strength to entrap us : for which this fellow, by his 
smooth speech, was thought a fit means. So by sun rising, 
(19th October), when we perceived his words but words, we 
put to sea to the westward of the island, some three leagues 
off, where we lay at hull the rest of all that day and night. 

The next day (20th October), in the afternoon, there came 
out of Cartagena, two frigates bound for St. Domingo, the 
one of 58, the other of 12 tons, having nothing in them but 
ballast. We took them within a league of the town, and 
came to anchor with them within sacre shot of the east Bul- 
wark. There were in those frigates some twelve or thirteen 
common mariners, which entreated to be set ashore. To 
them our Captain gave the great [er] frigate's gundeloe, and 
dismissed them. 

The next morning (21st October; when they came down to 
the wester[n] point with a flag of truce, our Captain manned 
one of his pinnaces and rowed ashore. When we were 
within a cable's length of the shore, the Spaniards fled, hiding 
themselves in the woods, as being afraid of our ordnance; 
but indeed to draw us on to land confidently, and to presume 
of our strength. Our Captain commanding thegrapnell to be 
cast out of the stern, veered the pinnace ashore, and as soon 
as she touched the sand, he alone leapt ashore in their sight, 
to declare that he durst set his foot a land : but stayed not 
among them, to let them know, that though he had not 
sufficient forces to conquer them, yet he had sufficient judge- 
ment to take heed of them. 

And therefore perceiving their intent, as soon as our Cap- 
tain was aboard, we hauled off upon our grapner and rid awhile. 

They presently came forth upon the sand[Sj, and sent a 
youth, as with a message from the Governor, to know, ** What 
our intent was, to stay upon the coast ? " 

Our Captain answered, " He meant to traffic with them ; for 
he had tin, pewter, cloth, and other merchandise that they 

The youth swam back again with this answer, and was 
presently returned, with another message : that, " The King 
liad forbidden to traffic with any foreign nation for any com- 
modities, except powder and shot ; of which, if he had any 
store, they would be his merchants." 

52 2 M ANCEU VRES & COUNTER M ANCEU VlUiS. [§7?. X>«ke."''i5j3. 

He answered, that " He was come from his country, to 
exchange his commodities for gold and silver, and is not 
purposed to return without his errand. They are like, in his 
opinion, to have little rest, if that, by fair means, they would 
not traffic with him." 

He gave this messenger a fair shirt for a reward, and so 
returned him : who rolled his shirt about his head and swam 
very speedily. 

We heard no answer all that day ; and therefore toward 
night we went aboard our frigates and reposed ourselves, 
setting and keeping very orderly all that night our watch, 
with great and small shot. 

The next morning (22nd October) the wind, which had been 
westerly in the evening, altered to the Eastward. 

About the dawning of the day, we espied two sails turning 
towards us, whereupon our Captain weighed with his pinnaces, 
leaving the two frigates unmanned. But when we were 
come somewhat nigh them, the wind calmed, and we were 
fain to row towards them, till that approaching very nigh, 
we saw many heads peering over board. For, as we per- 
ceived, these two frigates were manned and set forth out of 
Cartagena, to fight with us, and, at least, to impeach or 
busy us ; whilst by some means or other they might recover 
the frigates from us. 

But our Captain prevented both their drifts. For com- 
manding John Oxnam to stay with the one pinnace, to enter- 
tain these two Men-of-war; himself in the other made such 
speed, that he got to his frigates which he had left at anchor ; 
and caused the Spaniards (who in the meantime had gotten 
aboard in a small canoe, thinking to have towed them within 
the danger of their shot) to make greater haste thence, than 
Lhey did thither. 

For he found that in shifting thence, som.e of them were 
fain to swim aland (the canoe not being able to receive them) 
and had left their apparel, some their rapiers and targets, 
some their flasks and calivers behind them ; although they 
were towing away of one of them. 

Therefore considering that we could not man them, we 
sunk the one, and burnt the other, giving them to understand 
by this, that we perceived their secret practices. 

This being done, he returned to John Oxnam ; who all this 

sirF.'D2ki°''i593l Driven from Cartagena by storms. 523 

while lay by the Men-of-war without proffering to fight. And 
as soon as our Captain was come up to these frigates, the 
wind blew much from the sea, so that, we being betwixt the 
shore and them, were in a manner forced to bear room into 
the harbour before them, to the great joy of the Spaniards ; 
who beheld it ; in supposing, that we would still have fled 
before them. But as soon as we were in the harbour, and 
felt smooth water, our pinnaces, as we were assured of, getting 
the wind, we sought with them upon the advantage, so that 
after a few shot exchanged, and a storm rising, they were 
contented to press no nearer. Therefore as they let fall their 
anchors, we presently let drop our grapner in the wind of 
them : which the Spanish soldiers seeing, considering the 
disadvantage of the wind, the likelihood of the storm to con- 
tinue, and small hope of doing any good, they were glad to 
retire themselves to the town. 

But by reason of the foul and tempestuous weather, we 
rode therein four days, feeling great cold, by reason we had 
such sore rains with westerly wind, and so little succour in 
our pinnaces. 

The fifth day (27th October) there came in a frigate from 
the sea, which seeing us make towards her, ran herself 
ashore, unhanging her rudder and taking away her sails, 
that she might not easily be carried away. But when we 
were come up to her, we perceived about a hundred horse 
and foot, with their furniture, come down to the point of the 
Main, where we interchanged some shot with them. One of 
our great shot passed so near a brave cavalier of theirs, that 
thereby they were occasioned to advise themselves, and re- 
treat into the woods : where they might sufficiently defend 
and rescue the frigate from us, and annoy us also, if we 
stayed long about her. 

Therefore we concluded to go to sea again, putting forth 
through Boca Chica, with intent to take down our masts, upon 
hope of fair weather, and to ride under the rocks called Las 
Serenas, which are two leagues off at sea, as we had usually 
done aforetime, so that they could not discern us from the 
rocks. But, there, the sea was mightily grown, that we were 
forced to take the harbour again ; where we remained six 
days, notwithstanding the Spaniards grieved greatly at our 
abode there so Ions;. 

524 Exposure and starvation at sea. [s:rF.^bS°'''593. 

They put (2nd November) another device in practice to 
endanger us. 

For they sent forth a great shallop, a fine gundeloe, and a 
great canoe, with certain Spaniards with shot, and many 
Indians with poisoned arrows, as it seemed, with intent to 
begin some fight, and then to fly. For as soon as we rowed 
toward them and interchanged shot, they presently retired and 
went ashore into the woods, where an ambush of some sixty 
shot were laid for us : besides two pinnaces and a frigate 
warping towards us, which were manned as the rest. They 
attempted us very boldly, being assisted by those others, 
which from out of the wood, had gotten aboard the gundeloe 
and canoe, and seeing us bearing from them (which we did in 
respect of the amhuscado), they encouraged themselves and 
assured their fellows of the day. 

But our Captain weighing this their attempt, and being 
out of danger of their shot from the land, commanding his 
other pinnace to be brought ahead of him, and to let fall their 
grapners each ahead the other, environed both the pinnaces 
with bonnets, as for a close fight, and then wheaved [waved] 
them aboard him. 

They kept themselves upon their oars at caliver-shot dis- 
tance, spending powder apace ; as we did some two or three 
hours. We had only one of our men wounded in that fight. 
What they had is unknown to us, but we saw their pinnaces 
shot through in divers places, and the powder of one of them 
took fire ; whereupon we weighed, intending to bear room to 
overrun them : which they perceiving, and thinking that we 
would have boarded them, rowed away amain to the defence 
they had in the wood, the rather because they were disap- 
pointed of their help that they expected from the frigate ; 
which was warping towards us, but by reason of the much 
wind that blew, could not come to offend us or succour them. 

Thus seeing that we were still molested, and no hope re- 
mained of any purchase to be had in this place any longer; 
because we were now so notably made known in those parts, 
and because our victuals grew scant : as soon as the weather 
waxed somewhat better (the wind continuing always westerly, 
so that we could not return to our ships) our Captain thought 
best to go (3rd November) to the Eastward, towards Rio 
Grande [Magdalena] long the coast, where we had been before, 
and found great store of victuals. 

?.: R^'bS.^'^-sJs.] RepulseatSantaMarta. 525 

But when after two days' sailing, we were arrived (5th 
November) at the villages of store, where before we had 
furnished ourselves with abundance of hens, sheep, calves, 
hogs, &c. ; now we found bare nothing, not so much as any 
people left : for that they, by :he Spaniards' commandments, 
had fled to the mountains, and had driven away all their 
cattle, that we might not be relieve 1 by them. Herewith 
being very sorry, because much of our victuals in our pinnaces 
was spoilt by the foul weather al sea nd rains in harbour. 
A frigate being descried at searevixed us, and put us in some 
hope for the time, that in her we should find sufficient ; and 
thereupon it may easily be guessed, how much we laboured 
to recover her : but when we had boarded her, and understood 
that she had neither meat nor money, but that she was 
bound for Rio Grande to take in provision upon bills, our great 
hope converted into grief. 

We endured with our allowance seven or eight days more, 
proceeding to the Eastward, and bearing room for Santa 
Marta, upon hope to find some shipping in the road, or 
limpets on the rocks, or succour against the storm in that 
good harbour. Being arrived; and seeing no shipping; we 
anchored under the wester[nj point, where is high land, and, 
as we thought, free in safety from the town, which is in the 
bottom of the bay: not intending to land there, because we 
knew that it was fortified, and that they had intelligence 
of us. 

But the Spaniards (knowing us to be Men-of-war, and 
misliking that we should shroud under their rocks without 
their leave) had conveyed some thirty or forty shot among the 
cliffs, which annoyed us so spitefully and so unrevengedly, 
for that they lay hidden behind the rocks, but we lay open to 
them, that we were soon weary of our harbour, and enforced 
(for all the storm without and want within) to put to sea. 
\Vhich though these enemies of ours were well contented 
withal, yet for a farewell, as we came open of the town, they 
sent us a culverin shot ; which made a near escape, for it fell 
between our pinnaces, as we were upon conference of what 
was best to be done. 

The company advised that if it pleased him, they might put 
themselves a land, some place to the Eastward to get victuals, 
and rather hope for courtesy from the countiy-people, than 

526 They take a Spanish bark, [s;" 

ev. P. Nichols, r 
F. Drake. 1593. 

continue at sea, in so long cold, and great a storm in so leaky 
a pinnace. But our Captain would in no wise like of that 
advice ; he thought it better to bear up towards Rio de [la] 
Hacha, or Cori9ao [Curacao], with hope to have plenty without 
great resistance : because he knew, either of the islands were 
not very populous, or else it would be very likely that there 
would be found ships of victual in a readiness. 

The company of the other pinnace answered, that " They 
would willingly follow him through the world ; but in 
this they could not see how either their pinnaces should live 
in that sea, without being eaten up in that storm, or they 
themselves able to endure so long time, with so slender 
provision as they had, viz., only one gammon of bacon and 
thirty pounds of biscuit for eighteen men." 

Our Captain replied, that " They were better provided than 
himself was, who had but one gammon of bacon, and forty 
pounds of biscuit for his twenty-four men ; and therefore he 
doubted not but they would take such part as he did, and 
willingly depend upon GOD's Almighty providence, which 
never faileth them that trust in Him." 

With that he hoisted his foresail, and set his course for 
Cori9ao ; which the rest perceiving with sorrowful hearts in 
respect of the weak pinnace, yet desirous to follow their 
Captain, consented to take the same course. 

We had not sailed past three leagues, but we had espied a 
sail plying to the Westward, with her two courses, to our 
great joy : who vowed together, that we would have her, or 
else it should cost us dear. 

Bearing with her, we found her to be a Spanish ship of 
above 90 tons, which being wheaved [waved] amain by us, 
despised our summons, and shot off her ordnance at us. 

The sea went very high, so that it was not for us to at- 
tempt to board her, and therefore we made fit small sail to 
attend upon her, and keep her company to her small content, 
till fairer weather might lay the sea. We spent not past two 
hours in our attendance, till it pleased GOD, after a great 
shower, to send us a reasonable calm, so that we might use 
our pieces [i.e., bases] and approach her at pleasure, in such sort 
that in short time we had taken her; finding her laden with 
victuals well powdered [salted] and dried : which at that 
present we received as sent us of GOD's great mercy. 


After all things were set in order, and that the wind in- 
creased towards night, we plied off and on, till day (13th 
November), at what time our Captain sent in Ellis 
HixoM, who had then charge of his pinnace, to search out 
some harbour along the coast ; who having found out a 
little one, some ten or twelve leagues to the east of Santa 
Marta, where in sounding he had good ground and sufficient 
water, presently returnea, and our Captain brought in his 
new prize. Then by promising liberty, and all the apparel 
to the Spaniards which we had taken, if they would bring us 
to water and fresh victuals ; the rather by their means, we 
obtained of the inhabitants (Indians) what they had, which 
was plentiful. These Indians were clothed and governed by 
a Spaniard, which dwelt in the next town, not past a league 
off. We stayed there all day, watering and wooding, and 
providing things necessary, by giving content and satisfac- 
tion of the Indians. But towards night our captain called 
all of us aboard (only leaving the Spaniards lately taken in 
the prize ashore, according to our promise made them, to 
their great content ; who acknowledged that our Captain did 
them a far greater favour in setting them freely at liberty, 
than he had done them displeasure in taking their ship), and 
so set sail. 

The sickness which had begun to kindle among us, two or 
three days before, did this day shew itself, in Charles Glub, 
one of our Quarter-Masters, a very tall man, and a right good 
mariner; taken away, to the great grief both of Captain and 
company. What the cause of this malady was, we knew 
not of certainty, we imputed it to the cold which our men 
had taken, lying without succour in the pinnaces. But how- 
soever it was, thus it pleased GOD to visit us, and yet in 
favour to restore unto health all the rest of our company, 
that were touched with this disease ; which were not a few. 

The next morning (15th November) being fair weather, 
though the wind continued contrary, our Captain commanded 
the Minion, his lesser pinnace, to hasten away before him 
towards his ships at Fort Diego within the Cabe^as [Head- 
lands] to carry news of his coming, and to put all things in a 
readiness for our land journey, if they heard anything of the 
Fleet's arrival by the Cimaroons ; giving the Mtnion charge 
if they wanted wine, to take St. Bernards in their way, and 

528 How John Drake was killed. [sirF.^bSki!°''.'5j3. 

there take in some such portion as they thought good, of 
the wines which we had there hidden in the sand. 

We pHed to windwards, as near as we could, so that within 
seven-night after the Minion departed from us, we came- 
(22nd November) to St. Bernards, finding but twelve botijos 
of wine of all the store we left, which had escaped the 
curious search of the enemy, who had been there ; for they 
were deep in the ground. 

Within four or five days after, we came (27th November) 
to our ship, where we found all other things in good order; 
but received very heavy news of the death of John Drake, 
our Captain's brother, and another young man called Richard 
Allen, which were both slain at one time (9th October), as 
they attempted the boarding of a frigate, within tv/o days 
after our departing from them. 

The manner of it, as we learned by examination of the 
company, was this. When they saw this frigate at sea, 
as they were going towards their fort with planks to make 
the platforms, the company were very importunate on 
him, to give chase and set upon this frigate, which they 
deemed had been a fit booty for them. But he told them, 
that they " wanted weapons to assail ; they knew not how 
the frigate was provided, they had their boats loaded with 
planks, to finish that his brother had commanded." But 
when this would not satisfy them, but that still they urged 
him with words and supposals : " If you will needs," said he, 
"adventure! it shall never be said that I will be hindmost, 
neither shall you report to my brother, that you lost your 
voyage by any cowardice you found in me ! " 

Thereupon every man shifted as they might for the time : 
and heaving their planks overboard, took them such poor 
weapons as they had : viz., a broken pointed rapier, one old 
visgee, and a rusty caliver : John Drake took the rapier, and 
made a gauntlet of his pillow, Richard Allen the visgee, both 
standing at the head of the pinnace, called Eion. Robert 
took the caliver and so boarded. But they found the frigate 
armed round about with a close fight of hides, full of pikes 
and calivers, which were discharged in their faces, and 
deadly wounded those that were in the fore-ship, John 
Drake in the belly, and Richard Allen in the head. But 

Rev. P. Ni. h.j) 
i>ir K. Drake. 

^•-Jj] How Joseph Drake died. 529 

notwithstanding their wounds, they wnth oars sliifted off the 
pinnace, got clear of the frigate, and with all haste recovered 
their ship : where within an hour after, this young man of great 
hope, ended his days, greatly lamented of all th.t company. 

Thus having moored our ships fast, our Captain resolved 
to keep himself close without being descried, until he might 
hear of the coming of the Spanish T'leet ; and therefore set 
no more to sea; but supplied his wants, both for his own 
company and the Cimaroons, out of his foresaid magazine, 
beside daily out of the woods, with wild hogs, pheasants, and 
guanas: continuing in health (GOD be praised) all the mean- 
time, which was a month at least ; till at length about the 
beginning of January, half a score of our compan}- fell down 
sick together (3rd Jan. 1573), and the most of them died within 
two or three days. So long that we had thirty at a time sick 
of this calenture, which attacked our men, either by reason of 
the sudden change from cold to heat, or by reason of brackish 
water which had been taken in by our pinnace, through the 
sloth of their men in the mouth of the river, not rowing 
further in where the water was good. 

Among the rest, Joseph Dr.^ke, another of his brethren, 
died in our Captain's arms, of the same disease : of which, 
that the cause might be the better discerned, and consequently 
remedied, to the relief of others, by our Captain's appoint- 
ment he was ripped open by the surgeon, who found his 
liver swollen, his heart as it were sodden, and his guts all 
fair. This was the first and last experiment that our Cap- 
tain made of anatomy in this voyage. 

The Surgeon that cut him open, over-lived him not past 
four days, although he was not touched with that sickness, 
of which he had been recovered about a month before : but 
only of an over-bold practice which he would needs make 
upon himself, by receiving an over-strong purgation of his 
own device, after which taken, he never spake ; nor his Boy 
recovered the health which he lost by tasting it, till he saw 

The Cimaroons, who, as is before said, had been enter- 
tained by our Captain in September last, and usually repaired 
to our ship, during all the time of our absence, ranged 
the country up and down, between Nombre de Dios and us, 
to learn what they might for us; whereof they gave our 

£.\(j. Car.V. 3 |. 

530 The famous march to Panama, of [^rr.^Dmk' 

fRev. P Nichols. T 

Captain advertisement, from time to time ; as now parti- 
cularly, certain of them let him understand, that the Fleet 
had certainly arrived in N ombre de Dios. 

Therefore he sent (30th January) the Lion, to the seamost 
islands of the Cativaas, to descry the truth of the report : 
by reason it must needs be, that if the Fleet were in Nombre 
de Dios, all frigates of the country would repair thitherward 
with victuals. 

The Lion, within few days descried that she was sent for, 
espying a frigate, which she presently boarded and took, 
laden with maize, hens, and pompions from Tolou ; who 
assured us of the whole truth of the arrival of the Fleet : 
in this frigate were taken one woman and twelve men, of 
whom one was the Scrivano of Tolou. These we used very 
courteously, keeping them diligently guarded from the deadly 
hatred of the Cimaroons ; who sought daily by all means they 
could, to get them of our Captain, that they might cut their 
throats, to revenge their wrongs and injuries which the 
Spanish nation had done them : but our Captain persuaded 
them not to touch them, or give them ill countenance, while 
they were in his charge ; and took order for their safety, not 
only in his presence, but also in his absence. For when he 
had prepared to take his journey for Panama, by land ; he gave 
Ellis Hixom charge of his own ship and company, and 
especially of those Spaniards whom he had put into the great 
prize, which was hauled ashore to the island, which we 
termed Slaughter Island (because so many of our men died 
there), and used as a storehouse for ourselves, and a prison 
for our enemies. 

All things thus ordered, our Captain conferring with his 
company, and the chiefest of the Cimaroons, what provisions 
were to be prepared for this great and long journey, what 
kind of weapons, what store of victuals, and what manner of 
apparel : was especially advised, to carry as great store of 
shoes as possible he might, by reason of so many rivers with 
stone and gravel as they were to pass. Which, accordingly 
providing, prepared his company for that journey, entering 
it upon Shrove-Tuesday (3rd February). At what time, 
there had died twenty-eight of our men, and a few whole 
men were left aboard with Ellis Hixom to keep the ship, 
and attend the sick, and guard the prisoners. 

firF.''bS°'"5j3.] 1 8 Englishmen and 30 Cimaroons. ^^i 

At his departure our Captain gave this Master straight 
charge, in any case not to trust any messenger, that should 
come in his name with any tokens, unless he brought his 
handwriting : which he knew could not be counterfeited by 
the Cimaroons or Spaniards. 

We were in all forty-eight, of which eighteen only were 
English ; the rest were Cimaroons, which, beside their arms, 
bare every one of them, a great quantity of victuals and 
provision, supplying our want of carriage in so long a march, 
so that we were not troubled with anything but our furni- 
ture. And because they could not carry enough to suffice 
us altogether; therefore (as they promised before) so by the 
way with their arrows, they provided for us competent store 
from time to time. 

They have every one of them two sorts of arrows : the one 
to defend himself and offend the enemy, the other to kill his 
victuals. These for fight are somewhat like the Scottish 
arrow ; only somewhat longer, and headed with iron, wood, 
or fish bones. But the arrows for provision are of three sorts, 
the first serveth to kill any great beast near [at] hand, as ox, 
stag, or wild boar: this hath a head of iron of a pound and 
a half weight, shaped in form like the head of a javelin or 
boar-spear, as sharp as any knife, making so large and deep 
a wound as can hardly be believed of him that hath not seen 
it. The second serveth for lesser beasts, and hath a head 
of three-quarters of a pound : this he most usually shooteth. 
The third serveth for all manner of birds : it hath a head of 
an ounce weight. And these heads though they be of iron 
only, yet are they so cunningly tempered, that they will con- 
tinue a very good edge a long time : and though they be 
turned sometimes, yet they W'ill never or seldom break. The 
necessity in which they stand hereof continually causeth 
them to have iron in far greater account than gold : and no 
man among them is of greater estimation, than he that can 
most peifectly give this temper unto it. 

Every day we were marching by sun-rising. We con- 
tinued till ten in the forenoon : then resting (ever near some 
river) till past twelve, we marched till four, and then by 
some river's side, we reposed ourselves in such houses, as 

532 Marching through the woods. [iiriTDS'''%9V 

either we found prepared heretofore by them, when they 
travelled through these woods, or they daily built very 
readily for us in this manner. 

As soon as we came to the place where we intended to 
lodge, the Cimaroons, presently laying down their burdens, 
fell to cutting of forks or posts, and poles or rafters, and pal- 
mito boughs, or plaintain leaves ; and with great speed set 
up to the number of six houses. For every of which, they 
first fastened deep into the ground, three or four great posts 
with forks: upon them, they laid one transom, which was 
commonly about twenty feet, and made the sides, in the 
manner of the roofs of our country houses, thatching it close 
with those aforesaid leaves, which keep out water a long 
time : observing always that in the lower ground, where 
greater heat was, they left some three or four feet open 
unthatched below, and made the houses, or rather roofs, 
so many feet the higher. But in the hills, where the air 
was more piercing and the nights cold, they made our rooms 
always lower, and thatched them close to the ground, leaving 
only one door to enter in, and a lover [louvre] hole for, a 
vent, in the midst of the roof. In every [one] of these, they 
made four several lodgings, and three fires, one in the midst, 
and one at each end of every house : so that the room was 
most temperately warm, and nothing annoyed with smoke, 
partly by reason of the nature of the wood which they use 
to burn, yielding very little smoke, partly by reason of their 
artificial making of it : as firing the wood cut in length like 
our billets at the ends, and joining them together so close, 
that though no flame or fire did appear, yet the heat 
continued without intermission. 

Near many of the rivers where we stayed or lodged, we 
found sundry sorts of fruits, which we might use with great 
pleasure and safety temperate!}': Mammeas, Guayvas, Pal- 
mitos, Pinos, Oranges, Lemons, and divers other; from eating 
of which, they dissuaded us in any case, unless we eat very 
fewof them,andthose first dryroasted,as Plantains, Potato[e]s, 
and such like. 

In journeying, as oft as by chance they found any wild 
swine, of which those hills and valleys have store, they would 
ordinarily, six at a time, deliver their burdens to the rest of 
their fellows, pursue, kill and bring away after us, as much 

Rev. p. Nichols. « ~| T'ttt^ l^,...^ 


as they could carry, and time permitted. One day as we 
travelled, the Cimaroons found an otter, and prepared it to be 
drest: our Captain marvelling at it, Pedro, our chief Cima- 
roon, asked him, " Are you a man of war, and in want ; and 
yet doubt whether this be meat, that hath blood ? " 

Herewithal our Captain rebuked himself secretly, that he 
had so slightly considered of it before. 

The third day of our journey (6th February), they brought 
us to a town of their own, seated near a fair river, on the side 
ofahill, environed with a dyke of eight feet broad, andathick 
mud wall of ten feet high, sufficient to stop a sudden surpriser. 
It had one long and broad street, lying east and west, 
and two other cross streets of less breadth and length : there 
were in it some five or six and fifty households ; which were 
kept so clean and sweet, that not only the houses, but the 
very streets were very pleasant to behold. In this town we 
saw they lived very civilly and cleanly. For as soon as we 
came thither, they washed themselves in the river; and 
changed their apparel, as also their women do wear, which was 
very fine and fitly made somewhat after the Spanish fashion, 
though nothing so costly. This town is distant thirty-five 
leagues from Nombre de Dios and forty-five from Panama. 
It is plentifully stored with many sorts of beasts and fowl, 
with plenty of maize and sundry fruits. 

Touching their affection in religion, they have no kind 
of priests, only they held the Cross in great reputation. But 
at our Captain's persuasion, they were contented to leave 
their crosses, and to learn the Lord's Prayer, and to be 
instructed in some measure concerning GOD's true worship. 
They keep a continual watch in four parts, three miles off 
their town, to prevent the mischiefs, which the Spaniards 
intend against them, by the conducting of some of their own 
coats [i.e., Ctmaroons\, which having been taken by the 
Spaniards have been enforced thereunto: wherein, as we 
learned, sometimes the Spaniards have prevailed over them, 
especially when they lived less careful ; but since, they 
[watch] against the Spaniards, whom they killed like beasts, 
as often as they take them in the woods ; having aforehand 
understood of their coming. 

We stayed with them that night, and the next day (7th 
February) till noon ; during which time, they related unto 

534 The order of the daily march. [sirF.^DSke'!°'i59*3. 

us divers very strange accidents, that had fallen out between 
them and the Spaniards, namely [especially] one. A gallant 
gentleman entertained by the Governors of the country, under- 
tooi<,the year last past [i572l,withi50soldiers,to putthistown 
to the sword, men, women, and children. Being conducted 
to it by one of them, that had been taken prisoner, and won by 
great gifts ; he surprised it half an hour before day, by which 
occasion most of the men escaped, but many of their women 
and children were slaughtered, or taken : but the same 
morning by sun rising (after that their guide was slain, in 
following another man's wife, and that the Cimaroons had 
assembled themselves in their strength) they behaved them- 
selves in such sort, and drove the Spaniards to such extremity, 
that what with the disadvantage of the woods (having lost 
their guide and thereby their way), what with famine and 
want, there escaped not past thirty of them, to return answer 
to those which sent them. 

Their king [chief] dwelt in a city within sixteen leagues 
south-east of Panama; which is able to make 1,700 fighting 

They all intreated our Captain very earnestly, to make his 
abode with them some two or three days ; promising that by 
that time, they would double his strength if he thought good. 
But he thanking them for their offer, told them, that " He 
could stay no longer ! It was more than time to prosecute 
his purposed voyage. As for strength, he would wish no 
more than he had, although he might have presently twenty 
times as much ! " Which they took as proceeding not only 
from kindness, but also from magnanimity ; and therefore, 
they marched forth, that afternoon, with great good will. 

This was the order of our march. Four of those Cimaroons 
that best knew the ways, went about a mile distance before 
us, breaking boughs as they went, to be a direction to those 
that followed ; but with great silence, which they also 
required us to keep. 

Then twelve of them were as it were our Vanguard, other 
twelve, our Rearward. We with their two Captains in the 

All the way was through woods very cool and pleasant, by 
reason of those goodly and high trees, that grow there so 
thick, that it is cooler travelling there under them in that 

SirF''bfake°'\"593] DRAKe's FIRST SIGHT OF THE PACIFIC. 5 


hot region, than it is in the most parts of England in the 
summer time. This [also] gave a special encouragement 
unto us all, that we understood there was a great Tree about 
the midway, from which, we might at once discern the 
North Sea from whence we came, and the South Sea whither 
we were going. 

The fourth day following (nth February) we came to the 
height of the desired hill, a very high hill, lying East and 
West, like a ridge between the two seas, about ten of the 
clock : where [Pedro] the chiefest of these Cimaroons took 
our Captain by the hand, and prayed him to follow him, if he 
was desirous to s>ee at once the two seas, which he had so 
long longed for. 

Here was that goodly and great high Tree, in which they 
had cut and made divers steps, to ascend up near unto the 
top, where they had also made a convenient bower, wherein 
ten or twelve men might easily sit : and from thence we 
might, without any difficulty, plainly see the Atlantic Ocean 
whence now we came, and the South Atlantic [i.e., Pacific 
Ocean] so much desired. South and north of this Tree, they 
had felled certain trees, that the prospect might be the clearer; 
and near about the Tree there were divers strong houses, 
that had been built long before, as well by other Cimaroons as 
by these, which usually pass that way, as being inhabited 
in divers places in those waste countries. 

After our Captain had ascended to this bower, with the 
chief Cimaroon, and having, as it pleased GOD, at that time, 
by reason of the brize [breeze], a very fair day, had seen that 
sea, of which he had heard such golden reports: he "besought 
Almighty GOD of His goodness, to give him life and leave 
to sail once in an English ship, in that sea ! " And then 
calling up all the rest of our [17 English] men, he acquainted 
John Oxnam especially with this his petition and purpose, 
if it would please GOD to grant him that happiness. Who 
understanding it, presently protested, that " unless our 
Captain did beat him from his company, he would follow 
him, by GOD's grace ! " 

Thus all, thoroughly satisfied with the sight of the seas, 
descended; and after our repast, continued our ordinary 
march through woods, yet two days more as before : witiiout 
any great variety. But then (13th February) we came to 

536Ar RIVAL CLOSE TO PaNAMA. [sir'F.^DmL'e'!"''x5j3. 

march in a champion country, where the grass groweth, not 
only in great lengths as the knot grass groweth in many 
places, but to such height, that the inhabitants are fain to 
burn it thrice in the year, that it may be able to feed the 
cattle, of which they have thousands. 

For it is a kind of grass with a stalk, as big as a great 
wheaten reed, which hath a blade issuing from the top of 
it, on which though the cattle feed, yet it groweth every 
day higher, until the top be too high for an ox to reach. 
Then the inhabitants are wont to put fire to it, for the space 
of five or six miles together ; which notwithstanding after 
it is thus burnt, within three days, springeth up fresh like 
green corn. Such is the great fruitfulness of the soil : by 
reason of the evenness of the day and night, and the rich 
dews which fall every morning. 

In these three last days' march in the champion, as we 
past over the hills, we might see Panama five or six times a 
day; and the last day (14th February) we saw the ships 
riding in the road. 

But after that we were come within a day's journey of 
Panama, our Captain (understanding by the Cimaroons that 
the Dames of Panama are wont to send forth hunters and 
fowlers for taking of sundry dainty fowl, which the land 
yieldeth ; by whom if we marched not very heedfully, we 
might be descried) caused all his company to march out of 
all ordinary way, and that with as great heed, silence, and 
secrecy, as possibly they might, to the grove (which was 
agreed on four days before) lying within a league of 
Panama, where we might lie safely undiscovered near the 
highway, that leadeth from thence to Nombre de Dios. 

Thence we sent a chosen Cimaroon, one that had served a 
master in Panama before time, in such apparel as the 
Negroes of Panama do use to wear, to be our espial, to go 
into the town, to learn the certain night, and time of the 
night, when the carriers laded the Treasure from the King's 
Treasure House to Nombre de Dios. For they are wont to 
take their journey from Panama to Venta Cruz, which is six 
leagues, ever by night ; because the country is all champion, 
and consequently by day very hot. But from Venta Cruz to 
Nombre de Dios as oft as they travel by land with their 
treasure, they travel always by day and not by night, 

Rev P. Nichols 
Sir F. Drake, 

^.Jj] March thence to Venta de Cruzes. 537 

because all that way is full of woods, and therefore very 
fresh and cool ; unless the Cimaroons happily encounter 
them, and made them sweat with fear, as sometimes they 
have done : whereupon they are glad to guard their Recoes 
[i.e., Recuas, the Spanish word for a drove of beasts of burden ; 
meaning here, a mule train,] with soldiers as they pass that 

This last day, our Captain did behold and view the most 
of all that fair city, discerning the large street which lieth 
directly from the sea into the land, South and North. 

By three of the clock, we came to this grove ; passing for 
the more secrecy alongst a certain river, which at that time 
was almost dried up. 

Having disposed of ourselves in the grove, we despatched 
our spy an hour before night, so that by the closing in of 
the evening, he might be in the city ; as he was. Whence 
presently he returned unto us, that which very happily he 
understood by companions of his. That the Treasurer of 
Lima intending to pass into Spain in the first Adviso (which 
was a ship of 350 tons, a very good sailer), was ready that 
night to take his journey towards Nombre de Dios, with his 
daughter and family: having fourteen mules in company: 
of which eight were laden with gold, and one with jewels. 
And farther, that there were two other Recuas, of fifty mules 
in each, laden with victuals for the most part, with some 
little quantity of silver, to come forth that night after the 

There are twenty-eight of these Recuas ; the greatest of 
them is of seventy mules, the less of fifty; unless some 
particular man hire for himself, ten, twenty, or thirty, as he 
hath need. 

Upon this notice, we forthwith marched four leagues, till 
we came within two leagues of Venta Cruz, in which march 
two of our Cimaroons which were sent before, by scent of 
his match, found and brought a Spaniard, whom they had 
found asleep by the way, by scent of the said match, and 
drawing near thereby, heard him taking his breath as he 
slept ; and being but one, they fell upon him, stopped his 
mouth from crying, put out his match, and bound him so, 
that they well near strangled him by that time he was 
brought unto us. 

538 Prepare to capture the mule trains. [lrF.^DrS°'i593. 

By examining him, we found all that to be true, which our 
spy had reported to us, and that he was a soldier entertained 
with others by the Treasurer, for guard and conduct of this 
treasure, from Venta Cruz to Nombre de Dios. 

This soldier having learned who our Captain was, took 
courage, and was bold to make two requests unto him. The 
one that " He would command his Cimaroons which hated 
the Spaniards, especially the soldiers extremely, to spare his 
life; which he doubted not but they would do at his charge." 
The other was, that " seeing he was a soldier, and assured 
him, that they should have that night more gold, besides 
jewels, and pearls of great price, then all they could carry 
(if not, then he was to be dealt with how they would) ; but if 
they all found it so, then it might please our Captain to give 
unto him, as much as might suffice for him and his mistress 
to live upon, as he had heard our Captain had done to divers 
others : for which he would make his name as famous as 
any of them which had received like favour." 

Being at the place appointed, our Captain with half his men 
[8 English and 15 Cimaroons], lay on one side of the way, about 
fifty paces off in the long grass ; John Oxnam with the Captain 
of the Cimaroons, and the other half, lay on the other side 
of the way, at the like distance : but so far behind, that as 
occasion served, the former company might take the foremost 
mules by the heads, and the hindmost because the mules tied 
together, are always driven one after another ; and especially 
that if we should have need to use our weapons that night, we 
might be sure not to endamage our fellows. We had not 
lain thus in ambush much above an hour, but we heard the 
Eeciias coming both from the city to Venta Cruz, and from 
Venta Cruz to the city, which hath a very common and great 
trade, when the fleets are there. We heard them by reason 
they delight much to have deep-sounding bells, which, in a 
still night, are heard very far off. 

Now though there were as great charge given as might be, 
that none of our men should shew or stir themselves, but 
let all that came from Venta Cruz to pass quietly ; yea, their 
Recuas also, because we knew that they brought nothing but 
merchandise from thence : yet one of our men, called 
Robert Pike, having drunken too much aqua vitce without 
water,forgot himself, and enticing a Cimaroon forth with him 

s^F.^bSL^e'^'U.] Robert Pike SPOILS ALL. 539 

was gone hard to the way, with intent to have shown his 
foi"wardness on the foremost mules. And when a cavaher 
from Venta Cruz, well mounted, with his page running at 
his stirrup, passed by, unadvisedly he rose up to see what he 
was : but the Cimaroon of better discretion pulled him down, 
and lay upon him, that he might not discover them any more. 
Yet by this, the gentleman had taken notice by seeing one 
half all in white : for that we had all put our shirts over our 
other apparel, that we might be sure to know our own men 
in the pell mell in the night. By means of this sight, the 
cavalier putting spurs to his horse, rode a false gallop ; as 
desirous not only himself to be free of this doubt which he 
imagined, but also to give advertisement to others that they 
might avoid it. 

Our Captain who had heard and observed by reason of the 
hardness of the ground and stillness of the night, the change 
of this gentleman's trot to a gallop, suspected that he was 
discovered, but could not imagine by whose fault, neither 
did the time give him leisure to search. And therefore con- 
sidering that it might be, by reason of the danger of the 
place, well known to ordinary travellers : we lay still in ex- 
pectation of the Treasurer's coming; and he had come forward 
to us, but that this horseman meeting him, and (as we after- 
wards learnt by the other Recuas) making report to him, what 
he had seen presently that night, what he heard of Captain 
Drake this long time, and what he conjectured to be most 
likely : viz., that the said Captain Drake, or some for him, 
disappointed of his expectation, of getting any great treasure, 
both at Nombre de Dios and other places, was by some 
means or other come by land, in covert through the woods, 
unto this place, to speed of his purpose : and thereupon per- 
suaded him to turn his Reciia out of the way, and let the 
other Recuas which were coming after to pass on. They 
were whole Recuas, and loaded but with victuals for the most 
part, so that the loss of them were far less if the worst befell, 
and yet they should serve to discover them as well as the best. 

Thus by the rechlessness of one of our company, and by 
the carefulness of this traveller ; we were disappointed of a 
most rich booty : which is to be thought GOD w^ould not 
should be taken, for that, by all likelihood, it was well gotten 
by that Treasurer. ^ 

540 They march to Venta de Cruzes, [sir KDmke'^"''j3. 

The other two Rccnas were no sooner come up to us, but 
being stayed and seized on. One of the Chief Carriers, a very 
sensible fellow, told our Captain by what means we were 
discovered, and counselled us to shift for ourselves betimes, 
unless we were able to encounter the whole force of the city 
and country before day would be about us. 

It pleased us but little,- that we were defeated of our golden 
Recua, and that in these we could find not past some two 
horse-loads of silver : but it grieved our Captain much more, 
that he was discovered, and that by one of his own men. 
But knowing it bootless to grieve at things past, and having 
learned by experience, that all safety in extremity, consisteth 
in taking of time [i.e., by the fonlock, making an instant 
decision] : after no long consultation with Pedro the chief 
of our Cimaroons, who declared that "there were but two 
ways for him : the one to travel back again the same 
secret way they came, for four leagues space into the woods, 
or else to march forward, by the highway to Venta Cruz, 
being two leagues, and make a way with his sword through 
the enemies." He resolved, considering the long and weary 
marches that we had taken, and chiefly that last evening and 
day before : to take now the shortest and readiest way : as 
choosing rather to encounter his enemies while he had 
strength remaining, than to be encountered or chased when 
we should be worn out with weariness : principally now 
having the mules to ease them that would, some part of the 

Therefore commanding all to refresh themselves moderately 
with such store of victuals as we had here in abundance : he 
signified his resolution and reason to them all : asking Pedro 
by name, " Whether he would give his hand not to forsake 
him ? " because he knew that the rest of the Cimaroons would 
also then stand fast and firm, so faithful are they to their 
captain. He being very glad of his resolution, gave our 
Captain his hand, and vowed that " He would rather die at 
his foot, than leave him to the enemies, if he held this course." 

So having strengthened ourselves for the time, we took our 
journey towards Venta Cruz, with help of the mules till we 
came within a mile of the town, where we turned away the 
Recuas, charging the conductors of them, not to follow us 
upon pain of their lives. 


There, the way is cut through the woods, ahove ten or 
twelve feet broad, so as two Recuas may pass one by another. 
The fruitfulness of the soil, causeth that with often shredding 
and ridding the way, those woods grow as thick as our thickest 
hedges in England that are oftenest cut. 

To the midst of this wood, a company of soldiers, which 
continually lay in that town, to defend it against the Cima- 
roons, were come forth, to stop us if they might on the wa5 ; 
if not, to retreat to their strength, and there to expect us. 
A Convent [Mo7iastery] of Friars, of whom one was become 
a Leader, joined with these soldiers, to take such part as they 

Our Captain understanding by our two Cimaroons, which 
with great heedfulness and silence, marched now, but about 
half a flight-shot before us, that it was time for us to arm 
and take us to our weapons, for they knew the enemy 
was at hand, by smelling of their match and hearing of a 
noise : had given us charge, that no one of us should make 
any shot, until the Spaniards had first spent their volley : 
which he thought they would not do before they had spoken, 
as indeed fell out. 

For as soon as we were within hearing, a Spanish Captain 
cried out, " Hoo 1 " Our Captain answered him likewise, 
and being demanded " Que gente ? " replied " Englishmen ! " 
But when the said Commander charged him, *' In the name 
of the King of Spain, his Master, that we should yield our- 
selves ; promising in the word and faith of a Gentleman 
Soldier, that if we would so do, he would use us with all 
courtesy." Our Captain drawing somewhat near him said : 
"That for the honour of the Queen of England, his Mistress, 
he must have passage that way," and therewithal discharged 
his pistol towards him. 

Upon this, they presently shot off their whole volley ; 
which, though it lightly wounded our Captain, and divers of 
our men, yet it caused death to one only of our company 
called John Harris, who was so powdered with hail-shot, 
(which they all used for the most part as it seemed, or else 
" quartered," for that our men were hurt with that kind) that 
we could not recover his life, though he continued all that 
dav afterwards with us. 

Presently as our Captain perceived their vhot to come 

542 Drake's usual respect for women. [IrF.^bSkl' 

Nichols. 1 

slacking, as the latter drops of a great shower of rain, with 
his whistle he gave us his usual signal, to answer them with 
our shot and arrows, and so march onwards upon the 
enemy, with intent to come to handy-strokes, and to have 
joined with them ; whom when we found retired as to a place of 
some better strength, he increased his pace to prevent them 
if he might. Which the Cimaroons perceiving, although by 
terror of the shot continuing, they were for the time stept 
aside ; yet as soon as they discerned by hearing that we 
marched onward, they all rushed forward one after another, 
traversing the way, with their arrows ready in their bows, 
and their manner of country dance or leap, very singing, Y6 
peho ! Yopeho! and so got before us, where they continued 
their leap and song, after the manner of their own country 
wars, till they and we overtook some of the enemy, who 
near the town's end, had conveyed themselves within the 
woods, to have taken their stand at us, as before. 

But our Cimaroons now thoroughly encouraged, when they 
saw our resolution, brake in through the thickets, on both 
sides of them, forcing them to fly, Friars and all ! : although 
divers of our men were wounded, and one Cimaroon especially 
was run through with one of their pikes, whose courage and 
mind served him so well notwithstanding, that he revenged 
his own death ere he died, by killing him that had given him 
that deadly wound. 

We, with all speed, following this chase, entered the town 
of Venta Cruz, being of about forty or fifty houses, which had 
both a Governor and other officers and some fair houses, 
with many storehouses large and strong for the wares, which 
brought thither from Nombre de Dios, by the river of Chagres, 
so to be transported by mules to Panama : beside the Monas- 
tery, where we found above a thousand bulls and pardons, 
newly sent from Rome. 

In those houses we found three gentlewomen, which had 
lately been delivered of children there, though their dwellings 
were in Nombre de Dios; because it hath been observed of 
long time, as they reported to us, that no Spaniard or white 
woman could ever be delivered in Nombre de Dios with 
safety of their children but that within two or three days 
they died ; notwithstanding that being born and brought up 
in this Venta Cruz or Panama five or six years, and then 

irF.^Dr^kJl^'isi] Forced marches back to the ships. 543 

brought to Nombre de Dios, if they escaped sickness the 
first or second month, they commonly lived in it as healthily 
as in any other place : although no stranger (as they say) 
can endure there any long time, without great danger of 
death or extreme sickness. 

Though at our first coming into the town with arms so 
suddenly, these ladies were in great fear, yet because our 
Captain had given straight charge to all the Cimaroons (that 
while they were in his company, they should never hurt any 
woman nor man that had not a weapon in his hand to do 
them hurt ; which they earnestly promised, and no less faith- 
fully performed) they had no wrong offered them, nor any 
thing taken from them, to the worth of a garter; wherein, 
albeit they had indeed sufficient safety and security, by those 
of his company, which our Captain sent unto them, of pur- 
pose to comfort them : yet they never ceased most earnestly 
entreating, that our Captain would vouchsafe to come to 
them himself for their more safety ; which when he did, in 
their presence reporting the charge he had first given, and 
the assurance of his men, they were comforted. 

While the guards which we had, not without great need, 
set, as well on the bridge which we had to pass over, as at the 
town's end where we entered (they have no other entrance 
into the town by land : but from the water's side there is 
one other to carry up and down their merchandise from their 
frigates) gained us liberty and quiet to stay in this town 
some hour and half: we had not only refreshed ourselves, 
but our company and Cimaroons had gotten some good 
pillage, which our Captain allowed and gave them (being not 
the thing he looked for) so that it were not too cumbersome 
or heavy in respect of our travel, or defence of ourselves. 

A little before we departed, some ten or twelve horsemen 
came from Panama ; by all likelihood, supposing that we were 
gone out of this town, for that all was so still and quiet, 
came to enter the town confidently : but finding their enter- 
tainment such as it was ; they that could, rode faster back 
again for fear than they had ridden forward for hope. 

Thus we having ended our business in this town, and the 
day beginning to spring, we marched over the bridge, 
observing the same order that we did before. There we 
were all safe in our opinion, as if we had been environed 

544 How Drake ENCOURAGES HIS MEN. [irF.Dr^le'r'isi. 

with wall and trench, for that no Spaniard without his 
extreme danger could follow us. The rather now, for that 
our Cimaroons were grown very valiant. But our Captain 
considering that he had a long way to pass, and that he had 
been now well near a fortnight from his ship, where he had 
left his company but weak by reason of their sickness, 
hastened his journeys as much as he might, refusing to visit 
the other Cimaroon towns (which they earnestly desired 
him) and encouraging his own company with such example 
and speech, that the way seemed much shorter. For he 
marched most cheerfully, and assured us that he doubted 
not but ere he left that coast, we should all be bountifully 
paid and recompensed for all those pains taken : but by 
reason of this our Captain's haste, and leaving of their towns, 
we marched many days with hungry stomachs, much against 
the will of our Cimaroons : who if we would have stayed any 
day from this continual journeying, would have killed for us 
victuals sufficient. 

In our absence, the rest of the Cimaroons had built a little 
town within three leagues off the port where our ship lay. 
There our Captain was contented, upon their great and earnest 
entreaties to make some stay ; for that they alleged, it was 
only built for his sake. And indeed he consented the rather, 
that the want of shoes might be supplied by means of the 
Cimaroons, who were a great help unto us : all our men com- 
plaining of the tenderness of their feet, whom our Captain 
would himself accompany in their complaint, some times 
without cause, but some times with cause indeed; which made 
the rest to bear the burden the more easily. 

These Cimaroons, during all the time that we were with 
burden, did us continually very good service, and in particular 
in this journey, being unto us instead of intelligencers, to 
advertise us ; of guides in our way to direct us ; of purveyors, 
to provide victuals for us ; of house-wrights to build our 
lodgings ; and had indeed able and strong bodies carrying 
all our necessaries : yea, many times when some of our com- 
pany fainted with sickness of weariness, two Cimaroons 
would carry him with ease between them, two miles together, 
and at other times, when need was, they would shew them- 
selves noless valiant than industrious, and of good judgement. 

From this town, at our first entrance in the evening, on 

sirF.^b^Li°''i3j3.] Drake's GOLDEN TooTiincK, a token. 545 

From this town, at our first entrance in the evening, on 
Saturday (22nd February), our Captain despatched a Cimaroon 
with a token and certain order to the Master : who had, these 
three weeks, kept good watch against the enemy, and shifted 
in the woods for fresh victual, for the relief and recovery of 
our men left aboard. 

As soon as this messenger was come to the shore, calling 
to our ship, as bringing some news, he was quickly fet chedj 
aboard by those which longed to hear of our Captain's speed- 
ing: but when he showed the toothpike of gold, which he said 
our Captain had sent for a token to Ellis Hixom, with charge 
to meet him at such a river : though the Master knew well 
the Captain's toothpike ; yet by reason of his admonition 
and caveat [warning] given him at parting, he (though he 
bewrayed no sign of distrusting the Cimaroon) yet stood as 
amazed, least something had befallen our Captain otherwise 
than well. The Cimaroon perceiving this, told him, that it 
was night when he was sent away, so that our Captain could 
not send any letter, but yet with the point of his knife, he 
wrote something upon the toothpick, "which," he said, 
" should be sufficient to gain credit to the messenger." 

Thereupon, the Master looked upon it, and saw written. 
By me, Francis Drake: wherefore he believed, and accord- 
ing to the message, prepared what provision he could, and 
repaired to the mouth of the river of Tortugos, as the 
Cimaroons that went with him then named it. 

That afternoon towards three a clock, we were come down 
to that river, not past half-an-hour before we saw our pin- 
nace ready come to receive us : which was unto us all a 
double rejoicing : first that we saw them, and next, so soon. 
Our Captain with all our company praised GOD most heartily, 
for that we saw our pinnace and fellows again. 

We all seemed to these, who had lived at rest and plenty 
all this while aboard, as men strangely changed (our Captain 
yet not much changed) in countenance and plight : and in- 
deed our long fasting and sore travail might somewhat fore- 
pine and waste us ; but the grief we drew inwardly, for that 
we returned without that gold and treasure we hoped for, did 
no doubt show her print and footsteps in our faces. 

The rest of our men which were then missed, could not 
travel so well as our Captain, and therefore were left at the 

£nc,. G.IK. V. 23 

546 Final return from Panama. [sirF.''bmke.°''; 

Rev. P. Nichols. ? 

Indian new town : and the next day (33rd February) we 
rowed to another river in the bottom of the bay and took 
them all aboard. Thus being returned from Panama, to the 
great rejoicing of our company, who were thoroughly revived 
with the report we brought from thence : especially under- 
standing our Captain's purpose, that he meant not to leave 
off thus, but would once again attempt the same journey, 
whereof they also might be partakers. 

Our Captain would not, in the meantime, suffer this edge 
and forwardness of his men to be dulled or rebated, by lying 
still idly unemployed, as knowing right well by continual 
experience, that no sickness was more noisome to impeach 
any enterprise than delay and idleness. 

Therefore considering deeply the intelligences of other 
places of importance thereabouts, which he had gotten the 
former years ; and particularly of Veragua, a rich town 
lying to the Westward, between Nombre de Dios and 
Nicaragua, where is the richest mine of fine gold that is on 
this North side : he consulted with his company touching 
their opinions, what was to be done in this meantime, and 
how they stood affected ? 

Some thought, that " It was most necessary to seek supply 
of victuals, that we might the better able to keep our men 
close and in health till our time came : and this was easy to 
be compassed, because the frigates with victuals went without 
great defence, whereas the frigate and barks with treasure, 
for the most part were wafted with great ships and store of 

Others yet judged, " We might better bestow our time in 
intercepting the frigates of treasure ; first, for that our 
magazines and storehouses of victuals were reasonably fur- 
nished, and the country itself was so plentiful, that every 
man might provide for himself if the worst befell : and 
victuals might hereafter be provided abundantly as well as 
now : whereas the treasure never floateth upon the sea, so 
ordinarily as at this time of the Fleets being there, which 
time in no wise may be neglected." 

The Cimaroons being demanded also their opinion (for that 
they were experienced in the particularities of all the towns 

sirF.^DrA''i;''''.59V] Pezoro, the monster and miser. 54; 

thereabouts, as in which some or other of them had served), 
declared that " by Veragua, Si^nior Pezoro (some time their 
master from whom they fled) dwelt ; not in the town for fear 
of some surprise, but yet not far off from the town, for his 
better relief; in a very stron^j house of stone, where he had 
dwelt nineteen years at least, never travelling from home ; 
unless happily once a year to Cartagena, or Nombre de 
Dios when the Fleets were there. He keepeth a hundred 
slaves at least in the mines, each slave being bound to bring 
in daily, clear gain (all charges deducted) three Pesos of Gold 
for himself and two for his women (8s. 3d. the Peso), amount- 
ing in the whole, to above ;^200 sterling [=^^^1,600 now] each 
day : so that he hath heaped a mighty mass of treasure to- 
gether, which he keepeth in certain great chests, of two feet 
deep, three broad, and four long: being (notwithstanding all 
his wealth) bad and cruel not only to his slaves, but unto 
all men, and therefore never going abroad but with a guard 
of five or six men to defend his person from danger, which 
he feareth extraordinarily from all creatures." 

" And as touching means of compassing this purpose, they 
would conduct him safely through the woods, by the same 
ways by which they fled, that he should not need to enter their 
havens with danger, but might come upon their backs alto- 
gether unlocked for. And though his house were of stone, 
so that it could not be burnt ; yet if our Captain would under- 
take the attempt, they would undermine and overthrow, or 
otherwise break it open, in such sort, as we might have easy 
access to his greatest treasure." 

Our Captain having heard all their opinions, concluded so 
that by dividing his company, the two first different sentences 
were both reconciled, both to be practised and put in use. 

John Oxnam appointed in the Bear, to be sent Eastward 
towards Tolou, to see what store of victuals would come 
athwart his half; and himself would to the Westward in the 
Minion, lie off and on the Cabezas, where was the greatest 
trade and most ordinary passage of those which transported 
treasure from Veragua and Nicaragua to the Fleet; so that no 
time might be lost, nor opportunity let slip either for victuals 
or treasure. As for the attempt of Veragua, or Signior 
Pezoro's house by land, by marching through the woods ; he 
liked not of, lest it might overweary his men by continual 

548 They attempt Veragua, but are seen. [firF.^Dr^ke'!°''59\ 

labour; whom he studied to refresh and strengthen for his 
next service forenamed. 

Therefore using our Cimaroons most courteously, dis- 
missing those that were desirous to their wives, with such 
gifts and favours as were most pleasing, and entertaining 
those still aboard his ship, which were contented to abide 
with the company remaining ; the pinnaces departed as we 
determined: the Million to the West, the Bear to the East. 

The Minion about the Cabecas, met with a frigate of 
Nicaragua, in which was some gold, and a Genoese Pilot (of 
which nation there are many in those coasts), which had 
been at Veragua not past eight days before. He being very 
well entreated, certified our Captain of the state of the town, 
and of the harbour, and of a frigate that was there ready 
to come forth within few days, aboard which there was 
above a million of gold, offering to conduct him to it, if 
we would do him his right : for that he knew the channel 
very perfectly, so that he could enter by night safely without 
danger of the sands and shallows, though there be but little 
water, and utterly undescried ; for that the town is five leagues 
within the harbour, and the way by land is so far about and 
difficult through the woods, that though we should by any 
casualty be discovered, about the point of the harbour, yet 
we might despatch our business and depart, before the town 
could have notice of our coming. 

At his being there, he perceived they had heard of Drake's 
being on the coast, which had put them in great fear, as in 
all other places (Pezoro purposing to remove himself to the 
South Sea !) : but there was nothing done to prevent him, 
their fear being so great, that, as it is accustomed in such 
cases, it excluded counsel and bred despair. 

Our Captain, conferring with his own knowledge and former 
intelligences, was purposed to have returned to his ship, to 
have taken some of those Cimaroons which had dwelt with 
Signior Pezoro, to be the more confirmed in this point. 

But when the Genoese Pilot was very earnest, to have the 
time gained, and warranted our Captain of good speed, if we 
delayed not ; he dismissed the frigate, somewhat lighter to 
hasten her journey ! and with this Pilot's advice, laboured 
with sail and oars to get this harbour and to enter it by 
night accordingly: considering that this frigate might now 

SirF.^b^ake°''i'593] ^ FrENXII SHIP HEAVES IN SIGHT. 549 

be gained, and Pezoro's house attemp'ed hereafter notwith- 

But when we were come to the mouth of the harbour, we 
heard the report of two Chambers, and farther off about a 
league within the bay, two other as it were answering them : 
whereby the Genoese Pilot conjectured that we were dis- 
covered : for he assured us, that this order had been taken 
since his last being there, by reason of the advertisement 
and charge, which the Governor of Panama had sent to all 
the Coasts ; which even in their beds lay in great and con- 
tinual fear of our Captain, and therefore by all likelihood, 
maintained this kind of watch, at the charge of the rich 
Gnuffe Pezoro for their security. 

Thus being defeated of this expectation, we found it was 
not GOD's will that we should enter at that time: the rather 
for that the wind, which had all this time been Easterly, 
came up to the Westward, and invited us to return again to 
our ship ; where, on Sheere Thursday (19th March), we met, 
according to appointment, with our Bear, and found that 
she had bestowed her time to more profit than we had done. 

For she had taken a frigate in which there were ten men 
(whom they set ashore) great store of maize, twenty-eight 
fat hogs, and two hundred hens. Our Captain discharged 
(20th March) this frigate of her lading ; and because she was 
new, strong, and of a good mould, the next day (21st March) 
he tallowed her to make her a Man-of-war : disposing all our 
ordnance and provisions that were fit for such use, in her. 
For we had heard by the Spaniards last taken, that there 
were two little galleys built in Nombre de Dios, to waft the 
Chagres Fleet to and fro, but were not yet both launched : 
wherefore he purposed now to adventure for that Fleet. 

And to hearten his company he feasted them that Easter- 
Day (22nd March) with great cheer and cheerfulness, setting 
up his rest upon that attempt. 

The next day (23rd March) with the new tallowed frigate 
of Tolou [not of 20 tons, p. 551 ; one of the two frigates in 
which the Expedition returned to England], and his Bear, we 
set sail towards the Cativaas, where about two days after 
we landed, and stayed till noon ; at what time seeing a sail 
to the westward, as we deemed making to the island : we 
set sail and plied towards him, who descrying us, bare with 

550 Captain Tetxj, of HAvre, joins them. [Iri-.^i 


US, till he perceived by our confidence, that we were no 
Spaniards, and conjectured we were those Englishmen, of 
whom he had heard long before. And being in great want, 
and desirous to be relieved by us : he bare up under our 
lee, and in token of amity, shot off his lee ordnance, which 
was not unanswered. 

We understood that he was Tetu, a French Captain of New- 
haven [Havre] a Man-of-war as we were, desirous to be relieved 
by us. For at our first meeting, the French Captain cast 
abroad his hands, and prayed our Captain to help him to some 
water, for that he had nothing but wine and cider aboard him, 
which had brought his men into great sickness. He had 
sought us ever since he first heard of our being upon the coast, 
about this five weeks. Our Captain sent one aboard him 
with some relief for the present, willing him to follow us to 
the next port, where he should have both water and victuals. 

At our coming to anchor, he sent our Captain a case of 
pistols, and a fair gilt scimitar (which had been the late 
King's of France [Henry III.], whom Monsieur Mont- 
gomery hurt in the eye, and was given him by Monsieur 
Stkozze). Our Captain requited him with a chain of gold, 
and a tablet which he wore. 

This Captain reported unto us the first news of the 
Massacre of Paris, at the King of Navarre's marriage on 
Saint Bartholomew's Day last, [23 August, 1572] ; of the 
Admiral of France slain in his chamber, and divers other 
murders : so that he " thought those Frenchmen the happiest 
which were farthest from France, now no longer France but 
Frensy, even as if all Gaul were turned into wormwood and 
gall : Italian practices having over-mastered the French 
simplicity." He showed what famous and often reports he 
had heard of our great riches. He desired to know of our 
Captain which way he might " compass " his voyage also. 

Though we had seen him in some jealousy and distrust, 
for all his pretence ; because we considered more the strength 
he had than the good-will he might bear us : yet upon con- 
sultation among ourselves, " Whether it were fit to receive 
him or not?" we resolved to take him and twenty of his 
men, to serve with our Captain for halves. In such sort as 
we needed not doubt of their forces, being but twenty; nor be 
hurt by their portions, being no greater than ours : and yet 

l'rK^DSe.°''.s93.] ^ ^^ THIRD Attemi'T of the Voyage. 551 

gratify them in their earnest suit, and serve our own purpose, 
which without more help we could very hardly have achieved. 
Indeed, he had 70 men, and we now but 31 ; his ship was above 
80 tons, and our frigate not 20, or pinnace nothing near 
10 tons. Yet our Captain thought this proportionable, in 
consideration that not numbers of men, but quality of their 
judgements and knowledge, were to be the principal actors 
herein : and the French ship could do no service, nor stand 
in any stead to this enterprise which we intended, and had 
agreed upon before, both touching the time when it should 
take beginning, and the place where we should meet, namely, 
at Rio Francisco. 

Having thus agreed with Captain Tetu, we sent for the 
Cimaroons as before was decreed. Two of them were 
brought aboard our ships, to give the French assurance ol 
this agreement. 

And as soon as we could furnish ourselves and refresh 
the French company, which was within five or six days 
(by bringing them to the magazines which were the nearest, 
where they were supplied by us in such sort, as they pro- 
tested they were beholding to us for all their lives) taking 
twenty of the French and fifteen of ours with our Cimaroons, 
leaving both our ships in safe road, we manned our frigate 
and two pinnaces (we had formerly sunk our Lion, shortly 
after our return from Panama, because we had not men 
sufi'icient to man her), and went towards Rio Francisco : 
w hich because it had not water enough for our frigate, caused 
us to leave her at the Cabegas, manned with English and 
French, in the charge of Robert Doble, to stay there with- 
out attempting any chase, until the return of our pinnaces. 

And then bore to Rio Francisco, where both Captams landed 
(31st March) with such force as aforesaid [i.e., 20 Frcncli, 15 
liiiglish, and the Cimaroons], and charged them that had the 
charge of the pinnaces to be there the fourth day next fol- 
lowing without any fail. And thus knowing that the carriages 
[mule loads] went now daily from Panama to Nombre de Dios ; 
v.-e proceeded in covert^ through the woods, towards the 
highway that leadeth between them. 

It is five leagues accounted by sea, between Rio Francisco 
and Nombre de Dios; but lliat way whicli wc march by land, 

552 SlEZE 3 MULE TRAINS NEAR N OMBRE. [s.rF.^Dr^kJ^^'i'sgV 

we found it above seven leagues. We marched as in our 
former journey to Panama, both for order and silence ; to the 
great wonder of the French Captain and company, who pro- 
tested they knew not by any means how to recover the 
pinnaces, if the Cimaroons (to whom what our Captain com- 
manded was a law; though they little regarded the French, 
as having no trust in them) should leave us : our Captain 
assi-red him, " Therewas no cause of doubt of them, of whom 
he had had such former trial." 

When we were come within an English mile of the way, 
we stayed all night, refreshing ourselves, in great stillness, 
in a most convenient place : where we heard the carpenters, 
being many in number, working upon their ships, as they 
usually do by reason of the great heat of the day in Nombre 
de Dios ; and might hear the mules coming from Panama, 
by reason of the advantage of the ground. 

The next morning (ist April), upon hearing of that number 
of bells, the Cimaroons, rejoiced exceedingly, as though there 
could not have befallen them a more joyful accident, chiefly 
having been disappointed before. Now they all assured us, 
"We should have more gold and silver than all of us could 
bear away" : as in truth it fell out. 

For there came three Reciias, one of 50 mules, the other 
two, of 70 each, every [one] of which carried 300 lbs. weight of 
silver; which in all amounted to near thirty tons [i.e., 190 
mules, with 300 lbs. each^about 57,000 lbs. of silver]. 

We putting ourselves in readiness, went down near the 
way to hear the bells ; where we stayed not long, but we saw 
of what metal they were made ; ■■'■ and took such hold on the 
heads of the foremost and hindmost mules, that all the rest 
stayed and lay down, as their manner is. 

These three Rccnas were guarded with forty-five soldiers or 
thereabouts, fifteen to each Recua, which caused some ex- 
change of bullets and arrows for a time ; in which conflict the 
French Captain was sore wounded with hail-shot in the belly, 
and one Cimaroon was slain : but in the end, these soldiers 
thought it the best way to leave their mules with us, and to 
seek for more help abroad. 

In which meantime we took some pain to ease some of the 

[* Notice the bantering and triumphant style of the narrative from this 
point of victory to the end.— E. A.] 

sirF.^bSl!°''s93] At the mouth of the Francisco. 553 

mules which were heaviest loaden of their carriage. And 
because we ourselves were somewhat weary, we were con- 
tented with a few bars and quoits of gold, as we could well 
carry: burying about fifteen tons of silver, partly in the 
burrows which the great land crabs had made in the earth, 
and partly under old trees which were fallen thereabout, and 
partly in the sand and gravel of a river, not very deep of water. 

Thus when about this business, we had spent some two 
hours, and had disposed of all our matters, and were ready 
to march back the very self-same way that we came, we 
heard both horse and foot coming as it seemed to the mules : 
for they never followed us, after we were once entered the 
woods , where the French Captain by reason of his wound, 
not able tc travel farther, stayed, in hope that some rest 
would recover him better strength. 

But after we had marched some two leagues, upon the 
French soldiers' complaint, but they missed one of their men 
also, examination being made whether he were slain or not : 
it was found that he had drunk much wine, and overlading 
himself with pillage, and hasting to go before us, had lost 
himself in the woods. And as we afterwards knew, he was 
taken by the Spaniards that evening; and upon torture, 
discovered unto them where we had hidden our treasure. 

We contmued our march all that and the next day (2nd and 
3rd April) towards Rio Francisco, in hope to meet with our 
pinnaces ; but when we came thither, looking out to sea, we 
saw seven Spanish pinnaces, which had been searching all 
the coast thereabouts : whereupon we mightily suspected 
that they had taken or spoiled our pinnaces, for that our 
Captain had given so straight charge, that they should re- 
pair to this place this afternoon ; from the Cabe^as where they 
rode; whence to our sight, these Spaniards' pinnaces did come- 

But the night before, there had lallen very much rain, 
with much westerly wind, which as it enforced the Spaniards 
to return home the sooner, by reason of the storm : so it 
kept our pinnaces, that they could not keep the appointment ; 
because the wind was contrary, and blew so strong, that with 
their oars they could all that day get but half the way Not- 
withstanding, if they had followed our Captain's direction in 
setting forth over night, while the wind served, they had 
arrived at the place appointed with far less labour, but with 

554 Extraordinary daring of Drake. [frF-Dr^ke'^'^'si 

far more danger : because that very day at noon, the shallops 
manned out, of purpose, from Nombre de Dios, were come to 
this place to take our pinnaces : imagining where we were, 
after they had heard of our intercepting of the treasure. 

Our Captain seeing the shallops, feared least having taken 
our pinnaces, they had compelled our men by torture to 
confess where his frigate and ships were. Therefore in this 
distress and perplexity, the company misdoubting that all 
means of return to their country were cut off, and that their 
treasure then served them to small purpose ; our Captain 
comlorted and encouraged us all, saying, " We should venture 
no farther than he did. It was no time now to fear : but 
rather to haste[n] to prevent that which was feared ! If the 
enemy have prevailed against our pinnaces, which GOD for- 
bid! yet they must have time to search them, time to examine 
the mariners, time to execute their resolution after it is 
determined. Before all these times be taken, we may get to 
our ships, if ye will ! though not possibly by land, because of 
the hills, thickets, and rivers, yet by water. Let us, there- 
fore, make a raft with the trees that are here in readiness, as 
offering themselves, being brought down the river, happily 
this last storm, and put ourselves to sea ! I will be one, who 
will be the other ? " 

John Smith offered himself, and two Frenchmen that 
could swim very well, desired they might accompany our 
Captain, as did the Cimaroons likewise (who had been very 
earnest with our Captain to have marched by land, though 
it were sixteen days' journey, and in case the ship had been 
surprised, to have abode always with them), especially Pedro, 
who yet was fain to be left behind, because he could not row. 
The raft was fitted and fast bound ; a sail of a biscuit sack 
prepared ; an oar was shaped out of a young tree to serve 
instead of a rudder, to direct their course before the wind. 

At his departure he comforted the company, by promising, 
that " If it pleased GOD, he should put his foot in safety 
aboard his frigate, he would, GOD willing, by one means or 
('ther get them all aboard, in despite of all the Spaniards in 
the Indies ! " 

In this manner pulling off to the sea, he sailed some three 
leagues, sitting up to the waist continually in water, and at 
ivery surge of the wave to the arm-pits, for the space of six 

sirFVrlke.°''s9V] FRENCH A\D Enolish share alikp:. 555 

hours, upon this raft : what with the parching of the sun and 
what with the beating of the salt water, they had all of them 
their skins much fretted away. 

At length GOD gave them the sight of two pinnaces 
turning towards them with much wind ; but with far greater 
joy to him than could easily conjecture, and did cheerfully 
declare to those three with him, that "they were our pinnaces! 
and that all was safe, so that there was no cause of fear! " 

But see, the pinnaces not seeing this raft, nor suspecting 
any such matter, by reason of the wind and night growing 
on, were forced to run into a cove behind the point, to take 
succour, for that night : which our Captain seeing, and 
gathering (because they came not forth again), that they 
would anchor there, put his raft ashore, and ran by land 
about the point, where he found them; who, upon sight of 
him, made as much haste as they could to take him and his 
company aboard. For our Captain (of purpose to try what 
haste they could and would make in extremity), himself ran 
in great haste, and so willed the other three with him; as if 
they had been chased by the enemy : which they the rather 
suspected, because they saw so few with him. 

And after his coming aboard, when they demanding 
" How all his company did ? " he answered coldly, " Well ! " 
They all doubted [feared] that all went scarce well. But he 
willing to rid all doubts, and fill them with joy, took out of 
his bosom a quoit of gold, thanking GOD that " our voyage 
was made I " 

And to the Frenchmen he declared, how their Captain 
indeed was left behind, sore wounded and two of his company 
with him : but it should be no hindrance to them. 

That night (4th April) our Captain with great pain of his 
company, rowed to Rio Francisco : where he took the rest 
in, and the treasure which we had brought with us : making 
such expedition, that by dawning of the day, we set sail back 
again to our frigate, and from thence directly to our ships : 
where, as soon as we arrived, our Captain divided by weight, 
the gold and silver into two even portions, between the 
French and the English. 

About a fortnight after, when we had set all things in 

556 Captain TetO is taken by the Spaniards. [^3!°'; 

Nichols. ? 

order, and taking out of our ship [the Pascha] all such neces- 
saries as we needed for our frigate, had left and given her to 
the Spaniards, whom we had all this time detained, we put 
out of that harbour [at Fort Diego, p. 527], together with 
the French ship, riding some few days among the Cabegas. 

In the meantime, our Captain made a secret composition 
with the Cimaroons, that twelve of our men and sixteen of 
theirs, should make another voyage, to get intelligence in 
what case the country stood ; and if it might be, recover 
Monsieur Tetu, the French Captain ; at leastwise to bring 
away that which was hidden in our former surprise, and 
could not then be conveniently carried. 

John Oxnam and Thomas Shervvell were put in trust 
for his service, to the great content of the whole company, 
who conceived greatest hope of them next our Captain ; 
whom by no means they would condescend to suffer to 
adventure again, this time : yet he himself rowed to set them 
ashore at Rio Francisco ; finding his labour well employed 
both otherwise, and also in saving one of those two French- 
men that had remained willingly to accompany their wounded 

For this gentleman, having escaped the rage of the Spaniards, 
was now coming towards our pinnace, where he fell down on 
his knees, blessing GOD for the time, " that ever our Captain 
was born ; who now, beyond all his hopes, was become his 

He being demanded, *' What was become of his Captain 
and other fellow ? " shewed that within half an hour after our 
departure, the Spaniards had overgotten them, and took his 
Captain and other fellow: he only escaped by flight, having 
cast away all his carriage, and among the rest one box of 
jewels, that he might fly the swifter from the pursuers : but 
his fellow took it up and burdened himself so sore, that he 
could make no speed ; as easily as he miglit otherwise, if he 
would have cast down his pillage, and laid aside his covetous 
mind. As for the silver, which we had hidden thereabout in 
the earth and the sands, he thought that it was all gone : 
for that he thought there had been near two thousand 
Spaniards and Negroes there to dig and search for it. 

This report notwithstanding, our purpose held, and our 
men were sent to the said place, where they found that the 

SirF.bS<'e ,'593.] TlIE EnGLTSH START HOMEWARDS. 557 

earth, every way a mile distant had been digged and turned up 
in every place of any likelihood, to have anything hidden in it. 

And yet nevertheless, for all that narrow search, all our 
men's labour was not quite lost, but so considered, that the 
third day after their departure, they all returned safe and 
cheerful, with as much silver as they and all the Cimaroons 
could find (viz., thirteen bars of silver, and some few quoits of 
gold), with which they were presently embarked, without em- 
peachment, repairing with no less speed than joy to our frigate. 

Now was it high time to think of homewards, having sped 
ourselves as we desired: and therefore our Captain concluded 
to visit Rio Grande [Ma^delena] once again, to see if he 
could meet with any sufficient ship or bark, to carry victuals 
enough to serve our turn homewards, in which we might in 
safety and security embark ourselves. 

The Frenchmen having formerly gone from us, as soon as 
they had their shares, at our first return with the treasure; as 
being very desirous to return home into their country, and our 
Captain as desirous to dismiss them, as they were to be dis- 
missed: for he foresaw they could not in their ship 
avoid the danger of being taken by the Spaniards, if they 
should make out any Men-of-war for them, while they 
lingered on the coast ; and having also been then again re- 
lieved with victuals by us.— Now at our meeting of them 
again, were very loath to leave us, and therefore accom- 
panied us very kindly as far up as St. Bernards; and 
larther would, but that they durst not adventure so great 
danger; for that we had intelligence, that the Fleet was ready 
to set sail for Spain, riding at the entry of Cartagena. 

Thus we departed from them, passing hard by Cartagena, 
in the sight of all the Fleet, with a flag of St. George in 
the main top of our frigate, with silk streamers and ancients 
down to the water, sailing forward with a large wind, till we 
came within two leagues of the river [Ma^cielena], being all 
low land, and dark night: where to prevent the over shooting 
of the river in the night, we lay off and on bearing small sail, 
till that about midnight the wind veering to the eastward, 
by two of the clock in the morning, a frigate from Rio 
Grande [Magdelena\ passed hard by us, bearing also but 
small sail. We saluted them with our shot and arrows, 

558 Pedro's delight at the scimitar. [frF.Dr^ie*! 

Rev. P. Nichol?. ? 

they answered us with bases ; but we got aboard them, and 
took such order, that they were content against their wills 
to depart ashore and to leave us this frigate : which was of 
25 tons, loaded with maize, hens, and hogs, and some honey, 
in very good time fit for our use ; for the honey especially was 
notable reliever and preserver of our crazed [sick] people. 

The next morning as soon as we set those Spaniards 
ashore on the Main, we set our course for the Cabe(;as with- 
out any stop, whither we came about five days after. And 
being at anchor, presently we hove out all the maize a land, 
saving three butts which we kept for our store : and cariy- 
ing all our provisions ashore, we brought both our frigates 
on the careen, and new tallowed them. 

Here we stayed about seven nights, trimming and rigging 
our frigates, boarding and stowing our provisions, tearing 
abroad and burning our pinnaces, that the Cimaroons might 
have the iron-work. 

About a day or two before our departure, our Captain 
willed Pedro and three of the chiefest of the Cimaroons to 
go through both his frigates, to see what they liked ; promis- 
ing to give it them, whatsoever it were, so it were not so 
necessary as that he could not return into England without 
it. And for their wives he would himself seek out some 
silks or linen that might gratify them; which while he was 
choosing out of his trunks, the scimitar which Captain 
Tet6 had given to our Captain, chanced to be taken forth 
in Pedro's sight : which he seeing grew so much in liking 
thereof, that he accounted of nothing else in respect of it, 
and preferred it before all that could be given him. Yet 
imagining that it was no less esteemed of our Captain, 
durst not himself open his mouth to crave or commend it ; 
but made one Francis Tucker to be his mean to break his 
mind, promising to give him a fine quoit of gold, which yet 
he had in store, if he would but move our Captain for it; 
and to our Captain himself, he would give four other great 
quoits which he had hidden, intending to have reserved 
them until another voyage. 

Our Captain being accordingly moved by Francis 
Tucker, could have been content to have made no such 
exchange ; but yet desirous to content him, that had deserved 
so well, he gave it him with many good words : who received 

SirF.^i)^k'i!°'^.'593.] Drake's kindness to his prisoners. 559 

it with no little joy, affirming that if he should j^'ive his 
wife and children which he loved dearly in lieu of it, he 
could not sufficient recompense it (for he would present 
his king with it, who he knew would make him a great man, 
even for this very gift's sake); yet in gratuity and stead of 
other requital of this jewel, he desired our Captain to accept 
these four pieces of gold, as a token of his thankfulness to 
him, and a pawn of his faithfulness during life. 

Our Captain received it in most kind sort, but took it not 
to his own benefit, but caused it to be cast into the whole 
Adventure, saying, " If he had not been set forth to that 
place, he had not attained such a commodity, and therefore 
it was just that they which bare part with him of his burden 
in setting him to sea, should enjoy the proportion of his 
benefit whatsoever at his return." 

Thus with good love and liking we took our leave of that 
people, setting over to the islands of [ ? j, whence 

the next day after, we set sail towards Cape St. Antonio ; by 
which we past with a large wind : but presently being to 
stand for the Havana, we were fain to ply to the windward 
some three or four days ; in which plying we fortuned to 
take a small bark, in which were two or three hundred hides, 
and one most necessary thing, which stood us in great stead, 
viz., a pump ! which we set in our frigate.* Their bark 
because it was nothing fit for our service, our Captain gave 
them to carry them home. 

And so returning to Cape St. Antonio, and landing there, 
we refreshed ourselves, and beside great store of turtle 
eggs, found by day in the [sandj, we took 250 turtles by 
night. We powdered [salted] and dried some of them, which 
did us good service. The rest continued but a small time. 

There were, at this time, belonging to Cartagena, 
Nom.bre de Dios, Rio Grande, Santa Marta, Rio de la Hacha, 
Venta Cruz, Veragua, Nicaragua, the Honduras, Jamaica, 
&c., above 200 frigates ; some of a 120 tons, others but of 10 
or 12 tons, but the most of 30 or 40 tons, which all had 

* Apparently Drake and his company, now reduced to 31 men (/. 551) 
out of the original 73 (J>. 494), failing to find a bark at the Magdelena, 
came home in two Spanish frigates ; one of which was taken by OXEN- 
HAM (/>. 549). Both the S^oan (p. 5101 and the Pascha {p. 556) weit 
left behind in the West Indies. 

560 Plymouth people run out of church. [uS?',j93. 

intercourse between Cartagena and Nombre de Dios. The 
most of which, during our abode in those parts, we took; and 
some of them, twice or thrice each: yet never burnt nor 
sunk any, unless they were made out Men-of-war against 
us, or laid as stales to entrap us. 

And of all the men taken in these several vessels, we 
never offered any kind of violence to any, after they were 
once come under our power; but either presently dismissed 
them in safety, or keeping them with us some longer time 
(as some of them we did), we always provided for their 
sustenance as for ourselves, and secured them from the rage 
of the Cimaroons against them: till at last, the danger of 
their discovering where our ships lay being over past, for 
which only cause we kept them prisoners, we set them also 

Many strange birds, beasts, and fishes, besides fruits 
trees, plants, and the like, were seen and observed of us in 
this journey, which willingly we pretermit as hastening to 
the end of our voyage : which from this Cape of St. Antonio, 
we intended to finish by sailing the directest and speediest 
way homeward ; and accordingly, even beyond our own 
expectation, most happily performed. 

For whereas our Captain had purposed to touch at New- 
foundland, and there to have watered ; which would have 
been some let unto us, though we stood in great want of 
water; yet GOD Almighty so provided for us, by giving us 
good store of rain water, that we were sufficiently furnished : 
and, within twenty-three days, we passed from the Cape of 
Florida, to the Isles of Scilly, and so arrived at Plymouth, 
on Sunday, about sermon time, August the 9th, 1573. 

At what time, the news of our Captain's return brought 
unto his, did so speedily pass over all the church, and surpass 
their minds with desire and delight to see him, that very 
few or none remained with the Preacher. All hastening to 
see the evidence of GOD's love and blessing towards our 
Gracious Queen and country, by the fruit of our Captain's 
labour and success. 

Soli DEO Gloria, 


A STRy« A , IN 

A C R o s r I c 


£M,. Ir.HK. V 


IVinfcd for I. S. 


^Hjfnns of ASTR.€A.'\ 

H Y M N I . 
Of A S T R .E A. 

E ARLY, before the day doth spring, 
L et us awake, my Muse ! and sing ! 
I t is no time to slumber ! 
S o many joys this Time doth bring, 
A s time will fail to number. 

B ut, whereto shall we bend our Lays ? 
E ven up to heaven, again to raise 
T he Maid ! which, thence descended, 
H ath brought again the Golden Days 
A nd all the world amended. 

R udeness itself, vShe doth refine I 
E ven like an Alchemist di\nne, 
G ross Times of Iron turning 
I nto the purest form of Gold ; 
N ot to corrupt, till heaven wax old 
A nd be refined with burning. 

;64 // y -1/ ^v .<; o f A s t r al a . \_^'" {^S^l^ 


To A S T R^ A 

E TERNAL Virgin ! Goddess true ! 
L et me presume to sing to you ! 
I OVE, even great Jove hath leisure 
S ometimes, to hear the vulgar crew ; 
A nd hears them, oft, with pleasure. 

B lessed Astrea ! I, in part, 

E njoy the blessings you impart ! 

T he Peace ! the milk and honey ! 

H umanity ! and civil Art ! 

A richer dower than money. 

R ight glad am I, that now I live, 

E ven in these days, whereto you give 

G reat happiness and glory ! 

I f after you, I should be born ; 

N o doubt, I should my birthday scorn, 

A dmiring your sweet Story. 


To the Spring. 

E ARTH now is green, and heaven is blue ! 

L ively Spring, which makes all new. 

I oily Spring doth enter. 

S weet young sunbeams do subdue 

A ngry, aged Winter. 

B lasts are mild, and seas are calm ! 
E very meadow l^ows with balm ! 
T he earth wears all her riches ! 
H armonious birds sing such a psalm 
A s ear and heart bewitches ! 

R eserve, sweet Spring ! this Nymph of ours, 

E ternal garlands of thy flowers ! 

G reen garlands never wasting ! 

I n her shall last our State's fair Spring, 

N ow and for ever flourishing, 

A s long as heaven is lasting. 

H Y M N IV. 

To the uwntJi vf May. 

E ACH day of thine, sweet month of May i 

L ove makes a solemn Holy Day. 

I will perform like duty ! 

S ince thou resemhlest, every way, 

A STR.CA, Queen of Beauty. 

B oth you, fresh beauties do partake ! 

E ither's aspect, doth Summer make, 

T houghts of young Love awaking ! 

H earts you both, do cause to ache; 

A nd yet be pleased with aching. 

R ight dear art tliou ! and so is She J 

E ven like attractive sympathy 

G ains unto both, like'dearness. 

I ween this made Antiquity 

N ame thee, Sweet May of "Majesty ! 

A s being both like in clearness. 


To tlic Lark. 

E ARLY, cheerful, mounting Lark ! 

L ight's gentle Usher ! Morning's Clerk ! 

I n merry notes delighting ; 

S tint awhile thy song, and hark, 

A nd learn my new inditing ! 

B ear up this Hymn ! to heaven, it bear ! 
E ven up to heaven, and sing it there ! 
T o heaven, each morning bear it ! 
H ave it set to some sweet sphere, 
A nd let the angels hear it ! 

R enowned Astk.i: a, that great name ! 
(E xceeding great in worth and fame, 
G reat worth hath so renowned it) 
I t is Astk.i-a's name, I praise ! 
N ow then, sweet Lark! do thou it raise; 
A nd in high heaven resound it ! 

566 Hymns of A s t r At a , [^"L^'xt 


To the Ni\L(htiii,^ale. 

E VERY night, from even till morn, 
L ove's Chorister amid the thorn, 
I s now so sweet a singer ! 
S o sweet, as for her Song, I scorn 
A POLLo's voice and finger. 

B ut, Nightingale ! sith you delight 
E ver to watch the starry niglit, 
T ell all the stars of heaven ! 
H eaven never had a star so bright 
A s now to earth is given ! 

R oyal AsTR.?tA makes our day 
E ternal, with her beams! nor may 
G ross darkness overcome her ' 
I now perceive, why some do write, 
"No country hath so short a night 
A s England hath in summer." 


To ihc Rose. 

E YE of the garden ! Queen of Flowers ! 

1^ ove's cup, wherein he nectar pours I 

I ngendered first of nectar. 

S weet nurse-child of the Spring's young Hours ! 

A nd Beauty's fair Character ! 

B est jewel that the earth doth wear !. 

E ven when the brave young sun draws near, 

T o her hot love pretending; 

H imself likewise, like form doth bear, 

A t rising and descending. 

R ose, of the Queen of Love beloved ! 
E ngland's great Kings (divinely moved) 
G ave Roses in their banner : 
I t shewed, that Beauty's Rose indeed, 
N ow in this Age should them succeed, 
A nd reign in more sweet manner. 

^'■^ {)a^l99.] Hymns opAstraia. 567 


To all the Princes of Europe. 

E UROPE ! the Earth's sweet Paradise ! 

L et all thy Kings (that would be wise 

I n Politic Devotion) 

S ail hither, to observe her eyes, 

A nd mark her heavenly motion ! 

B rave Princes of this civil Age ! 
E nter into this pilgrimage ! 
T his Saint's tongue is an Oracle ! 
H er eye hath made a Prince a page ; 
A nd works, each day, a miracle ! 

R aise but your looks to her, and see 

E ven the true beams of Majesty ! 

G reat Princes, mark her duly ! 

I f all the world you do survey, 

N o forehead spreads so bright a ray : 

A nd notes a Prince, so truly ! 


To Flora. 

E MPRESS of Flowers ! Tell, where away 
L ies your sweet Court, this merry May ? 
I n Greenwich garden alleys! 
S ince there the Heavenly Powers do play, 
A nd haunt no other valleys. 

B EAUTY, Virtue, Majesty, 

E loquent Muses, three times three, 

T he new fresh Hours and Graces 

H ave pleasure in this place to be, 

A hove all other places. 

R OSes and lilies did them draw, 

E re they, divine Astr.ea saw : 

G ay flowers, they sought for pleasure. 

I nstead of gathering Crowns of Flowers, 

N ow, gather they Astk.i-a's dowers, 

A nd bear to heaven, that treasure. 

568 // y J/ N s o F A s r k .k a . [■'" {3,V.'Sc> 

H Y M N X . 

To the Month of September. 

E ACH month hath praise in some degree, 

L et May to others seem to be 

I n Sense, the sweetest season ; 

S eptember ! thou are best to me ! 

A nd best doth please my Reason. 

B ut neither for their corn, nor wine ; 

E xtol I, those mild days of thine ! 

T hough corn and wine might praise thee ; 

H eaven gives thee honour more divine 

A nd higher fortunes raise thee ! 

R enowned art thou, sweet Month ! for this. 

E mong thy days, her birthday is ! 

G race, Plenty, Peace, and Honour 

I n one fair hour with her were born ! 

N ow since, they still her crown adorn, 

A nd still attend upon her. 

H Y M N X I . 

To the Sun. 

E YE of the world ! Fountain of light ! 
L ife of day, and death of night ! 
I huml)ly seek thy kindness ! 
S weet ! dazzle not my feeble sight, 
A nd strike me not with blindness! 

B ehold me mildly from that face 

E ven where thou nov/ dost run thy race, 

T he sphere where now thou turnest, 

H aving, like Pii.iiTON changed thy place, 

A nd yet hearts only burnest. 

K ed in her right cheek, thou dost rise ! 

E xalted after, in her e} es ; 

G reat glory, there, thou shewest ! 

I n th'other cheek, when thou descendest, 

N ew redness unto it thou lendest ! 

A nd so thy Round, thou goest ! 

Sit J, Davie 

'oa-'S;-.! H V .)/ X S O /■ A S TK AL A 569 


Tu her Picture. 

E XTKEMH was his audacity, 

L ittle his skill, that tinished thee! 

I am ashamed and sorry, 

S o dull her counterfeit should be ; 

A nd She, so full of glory ! 

B ut here are colours, red and white ; 

E ach line, and each proportion right : 

T hese lines, this red and whiteness, 

H ave wanting yet a life and light, 

A majesty and brightness. 

K ude counterfeit ! I then did err ; 
E ven now, when I would needs infer 
G reat boldness in thy maker ! 
I did mistake! He was not bold, 
N or durst his eyes, her eyes behold : 
A nd this made him mistake her. 


Of her Mind. 

E ARTH, now adieu I My ravished thought 

L ifted to heaven, sets thee at nought ! 

I nfinite is my longing, 

S ecrets of angels to be taught, 

A nd things to heaven belonging ! 

B rought down from heaven, of angels' kind, 

E ven now, do I admire her Mind ! 

T his is my contemplation ! 

H er clear sweet Spirit, which is refined 

A bove human creation ! 

R ich sunbeam of th' Eternal Light I 
E xcellent Soul ! How shall I write ? 
G ood angels make me able ! 
I cannot see but by your eye ; 
N or but by your tongue, signify 
A thing so admirable. 

5 70 H Y M X S OF A S T R M A . \^'' h^x.!f^^i 

H Y M N X I V . 

Of the Siutbcains of her Mind. 

E XCEHDING glorious is this Star! 

L et us behold her beams afar 

I n a side line reflected ! 

S ight bears them not, when near they are, 

A nd in right lines directed. 

B ehold her in her virtue's beams, 
E xtending sun-like to all realms ! 
T he sun none views too nearly. 
H er well of goodness, in these streams, 
A ppears right well and clearly. 

R adiant virtues ! if your light 

K nfeeble the best judgement's sight; 

G reat splendour above measure 

I s in the Mind, from whence you flow! 

N o wit may have access to know 

A nd view so bright a treasure. 


Of her Wit. 

E YE of that Mind most quick and clear, 

L ike heaven's E3'e, which from his sphere, 

I nto all things pryeth ; 

S ees through all things everywhere, 

A nd all their natures trieth. 

B right image of an angel's wit, 

E xceeding sharp and swift like it, 

T hings instantl}' discerning ; 

H aving a nature infinite, 

A nd yet increased by learning. 

R ebound upon thyself thy light ! 

E njoy thine own sweet precious sight ! 

G ive us but some reflection ! 

I t is enough for us if we, 

N ow in her speech, now policy ; 

A dmire thine high perfection ! 

•'^""' LP'S;] H y .V xs Of A s T K ^^ A. 571 


Of her Will. 

E VER well affected Will, 

L oving goodness, loathinj^ ill ! 

I nestimable treasure ! 

S ince such a power hath power to spill, 

A nd save us, at her pleasure. 

B e thou our law, sweet Will ! and say 

E ven what thou wilt, we will obey ! 

T his law, if I could read it. 

H erein would I spend night and day, 

A nd study still to plead it. 

R oyal Free Will, and only free ! 

E ach other will is slave to thee ! 

G lad is each will to serve thee ! 

I n thee such princely power is seen ; 

N o spirit but takes thee, for her Queen 1 

A nd thinks she must observe thee ! 

HYMN X \' I I . 

OJ her Memory. 

E XCELLKNT jewels would you see .^ 
L ovely ladies ! Come with me ! 
I will (for love I owe you) 
S hew you as rich a treasury 
A s East or West can shew you ! 

B ehold ! (if you can judge of it) 

E ven that great Storehouse of her Wit ! 

T hat beautiful large table, 

H er Memory ! wherein is writ 

A 11 knowledge admirable. 

R ead this fair book, and you shall learn 

E xquisite skill, if you discern ; 

G ain heaven, by this discerning! 

I n such a memory divine, 

N ature did form the Muses nine, 

A nd Pallas, Queen of Learning. 

572 H Y M NS O F A ST R A- A . ["" ]:,^^. 


Oj her Phantasy. 

E XQUisiTE curiosity ! 

L ook on tliyself, with judginj^ eye ! 

I f ought he faulty, leave it ! 

S o delicate a Phantasy 

A s this, will straight perceive it, 

B ecause her temper is so fine, 
E ndued with harmonies divine; 
T herefore if discord strike it, 
H er true proportions do repine, 
A nd sadly do mislike it. 

R ight otherwise, a pleasure sweet, 

E ver she takes in actions meet, 

G racing with smiles such meetness : 

I n her fair forehead beams appear, 

N o Summer's day is half so clear ! 

A domed with half that sweetness ! 


Of the Organs of her Mind. 

E CLIPSHD She is, and her bright rays 
L ie under veils ; yet many ways 
I s her fair form revealed ! 
S he diversely herself conveys, 
A nd cannot be concealed. 

H y instruments, her powers appear 

E xceedingly well tuned and clear! 

T his Lute is still in measure, 

H olds still in tune, even like a spiierc, 

A nd yields the world sweet pleasure ! 

R esolve me. Muse ! how this thing is? 

E ver a body like to this, 

G ave heaven to earthly creature ? 

I am but fond this doubt to make ! 

N o doubt, the angels, bodies take 

A bove our common nature ! 

'"■'6a.^t^] H Y M X S OF A <r R,EA. S7Z 

H Y M N XX. 

Of the Passions of her Heart. 

E XAMINE not th' inscrutable Heart, 

L i^ht Muse ! of Her, though She in part 

I mpait it to the subject ! 

S earch not ! although from heaven thou art ! 

A nd this a heavenly object. 

B ut since She hath a heart, we know 

E ver some Passions thence do flow, 

T hough ever ruled with honour. 

H er judgement reigns ! The}- wait below, 

A nd rtx their eyes upon her ! 

R ectified so, they, in their kind, 
E ncrease each virtue of her Mind, 
G overned with mild tranquility. 
I n all the regions under heaven, 
N o State doth bear itself so even, 
A nd with so sweet facility. 


Of the innuuierable Virtues of her Mind. 

E RE thou proceed in these sweet pains, 

L earh Muse ! how many drops it rains 

I n cold and moist December ! 

S um up May flowers ! and August's grains ! 

A nd grapes of mild September! 

B ear the sea's sand in Memory ! 
\i arth's grasses ! and the stars in sky ! 
T he little moats, which mounted 
H ang in the beams of PnoiBUs' eye, 
A nd never can be counted ! 

R ecount these numbers, numberless, 
E re thou, her virtue canst express ! 
G reat wits, this count will cumber ! 
I nstruct thyself in numbering schools! 
N ow Courtiers use to beg for fools ; 
A 11 such as cannot number. 

5 74 // y ^f ^y-^ Of A ST K.EA. i^" ^^^^ 


Of her Wisdom. 

E AGLE-eyed Wisdom ! Life's loadstar ! 

L ookinj; near, on things afar ! 

I ove's best beloved daughter ! 

S hews to her spirit all that are ! 

A s Jove himself hath taught her. 

B y this straight rule, She rectifies 

E ach thought, that in her heart doth rise ; 

T his is her clear true Mirror ! 

H er Looking Glass, wherein She spies 

A II forms of Truth and Error. 

R ight Princely virtue, fit to reign ! 

E nthronised in her spirit remain, 

G uiding our fortunes ever ! 

I f we this Star once cease to see ; 

N o doubt our State will shipwrecked be, 

A nd torn and sunk for ever. 


Of her Justice. 

E xiLED AsTK.EA is comc again ! 

L o here She doth all things maintain 

I n number, weight, and measure ! 

S he rules us, with delightful pain, 

A nd we obey with pleasure ! 

B y Love, She rules more than by Lav.- 1 

E ven her great Mercy breedeth awe ; 

T his is her sword and sceptre ! 

H erewith She hearts did ever draw, 

A nd this guard ever kept her. 

R eward doth sit in her right hand ! 
' E ach Virtue, thence takes her garland, 
G athered in Honour's garden ! 
I n her left hand (wherein should be 
N ought but the sword) sits Clemency 1 
A nd conquers Vice with pardon. 

^'' Oc^'tg.] H Y M NS f A S7 R yE A, 575 


Of her Magnanimity. 

E VEN as her State, so is her Mind 
L ifted above the vulgar kind ! 
I t treads proud Fortune under! 
S unlike, it sits above the wind ; 
A hove the storms, and thunder. 

B rave Spirit ! Large Heart ! admiring nought ! 
E steeming each thing, as it ought ! 
T hat swelleth not, nor shrinketh ! 
H onour is always in her thought ; 
A nd of great things, She thinketh ! 

R ocks, pillars, and heaven's axletrec 

E xemplify her Constancy ! 

G reat changes never change her ! 

I n her sex, fears are wont to rise ; 

N ature permits, Virtue denies, 

A nd scorns the face of danger ! 


0/ her Moderation. 

E MPKESS of Kingdoms, though She be ; 
L arger is her Sovereignty, 
I f She herself do govern ! 
S ubject unto herself is She; 
A nd of herself, true Sovereign ! 

B eauty's Crown, though She do wear; 
E xalted into Fortune's Chair ; 
T hroned like the Queen of Pleasure : 
H er virtues still possess her ear, 
A nd counsel her to Measure ! 

R eason (if vShe incarnate were) 
E ven Reason's self could never bear 
G reatness with Moderation ! 
I n her, one temper still is seen. 
N () liberty claims She as Queen ! 
A nd shows no alteration ! 


// y jV N S OF A S T R yF A 



J. Daviej. 
"Oct. i5<j». 

E NVY, go weep ! My Muse and I 

L augh thee to scorn ! Thy feeble eye 

I s dazzled with the glory 

S hining in this gay Poesy, 

A nd little golden Story ! 

B ehold, how my proud quill doth shed 

E ternal nectar on her head ! 

T he pomp of Coronation 

H ath not such power, her fame to spread, 

A s this my admiration ! 

R espect my pen, as free and frank; 

\l xpecting nor reward, nor thank ! 

G reat wonder only moves it ! 

I never made it mercenary ! 

N or should my Muse, this burden carry 

A s hired ; but that she loves it ! 



Benjamin Franklin. 

IPaar R/C/I.tKn imf>ro~'ed, lieiii^ an Ahiianac, ir'c. for t'te year of our Lord 175S. 
Richard Saunders. I'liilom. Philadelphia.] 

By the kind permission of that most courteous of friends, and most erudite 
0/ living: bildioi^mphcrs, Hi.NRY Steves s, Esq., of Vermont, F.S.A., ive 
are here permitted to give tlie followinij; from his Historical Nuggets, p. 
2()\, London, 1872, 8vo. We only prefix one note. At the time this was 
loritteti, tea was a costly drink. 

Mr. SlKVKNS says, " This is the most celebrated of all \.\\t ^Umanacs oi 
the celebrated Poor Richard ; and, as far as my e.xperience goes, one of 
the rarest to be met with in a perfect state. It is full of precious gems ; 
but weighs, Troy weight, scarcely two sovereigns. In all the Almanacs 
previous to this, from 1733, Franklin had dropped in, to fill up the 
chinks between the remarkable days in the Calendar, many proverbial 
sentences designed to inculcate industry, frugality, and other virtues. 

" In his Autobiography, written many years after, Franklin says, 

These Proverbs, which contained the wisdom of many 
Ages and Nations, I assembled, and formed into a connected 
discourse, prefi.xed to the Almanac for 1758 ; as the harangue 
of a wise old man to the people attending an auction. The 
bringing all these scattered Counsels thus into a focus, 
enabled them to make a greater impression. The piece, being 
universally approved, was copied in all the newspapers of the 
American Continent ; and reprinted in Britain on a large sheet 
of paper, to be stuck up in houses. Two translations were made 
of it in France ; and great numbers bought by the Clergy and 
Gentry to distribute gratis among the poor parishioners and 
tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discouraged useless expense 
in foreign superfluities ; some thought it had a share of 
influence in producing that growing plenty of money, which 
was observable for several years after its publication. 

"Since Franklin wrote his Autobiography, xW\% sunnnary has been 
many times reprinted, both in England ami France, and in many 
languages, even in modern (".reek by DioOT : but such a chain of gems 
can never wear out or be lost." 

Courteous Reader. 

Have heard that nothing gives an author so great 
pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted 
by other learned authors. This pleasure I have 
seldom enjoyed. For though I have been, if I may 
sav it without vanity, an cmiiiciit author of 
Fvn. r,4/t. v. -'7 

578 We are taxed by Idleness and Folly, [fjui""''?"": 

A hunnacs annually, now a full quarter of a century, my brother 
authors in the same way, for what reason I know not, have 
ever been very sparing in their applauses ; and no other 
author has taken the least notice of me : so that did not my 
writings produce me some solid Pudding, the great deficiency 
of Praise would have quite discouraged me. 

I concluded at length, that the people were the best 
judges of my merit ; for they buy my works : and besides, in 
my rambles, where I am not personally known, I have 
frequently heard one or other of my Adages repeated, with 
"as Poor Richard says ! " at the end of it. This gave me 
some satisfaction, as it shewed, not only that my Instructions 
were regarded, but discovered likewise some respect for my 
Authority. And I own, that to encourage the practice of 
remembering and repeating those wise Sentences : I have 
sometimes quoted myself with great gravity. 

Judge, then, how much I must have been gratified by an 
incident I am going to relate to you ! 

I stopped my horse lately, where a great number of people 
were collected at a Vendue [sale] of Merchant's goods. The 
hour of sale not being come, they were conversing on the 
badness of the Times : and one of the company called to a 
clean old man, with white locks, " Pray, Father Abraham ! 
what do you think of the Times ? Won't these heavy taxes 
quite ruin the country ? How shall we be ever able to pay 
them ? What would you advise us to?" 

Father Abraham stood up, and replied, " If you would 
have my advice ; I will give it you, in short ; for a word to 
the wise is enough, and many words won't Jill a bushel^ as 
Poor Richard says." 

They all joined, desiring him to speak his mind ; and 
gathering round him, he proceeded as follows : 

" Friends " says he, " and neighbours ! The taxes are 
indeed very heavy ; and if those laid on by the Government 
were the only ones we had to pay, we might the more easily 
discharge them : but we have many others, and much more 
grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our 
Idleness, three times as much by our Pride, and four times 
as much by our Folly : and from these taxes, the Com- 
missioners cannot ease, or deliver us by allowing an abate- 
ment. However let us hearken to good advice, and something 

t/uiy":'';!":] Time, the most precious of all tiilxgs. 579 

may be done for us. GOD helps them that help themselves, as 
Poor Richard says in his Almanac of 1733. 

It would be thought a hard Government that should tax 
its people One-tenth part of their Time, to be employed in 
its service. But Idleness taxes many of us much more ; 
if we reckon all that is spent in absolute sloth, or doing of 
nothing; with that which is spent in idle employments or 
amusements that amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on 
diseases, absolutely shortens life. Sloth, like Rust, consumes 
faster than Labour wears ; while the used key is always bright, as 
Poor Richard says. But dost thou love Life ? Then do not 
squander time ! for that's the stuff Life is made of, as Poor 
Richard says. 

How much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep ? 
forgetting that the sleeping fox catches no poultry ; and that 
there will be sleeping enough in the grave, as Poor Richard 
says. If Time be of all things the most precious, Wasting of 
Time must be (as Poor Richard says) the greatest prodigality ; 
since, as he elsewhere tells us. Lost time is never found again; 
and what we call Time enough / always proves little enotigh. 
Let us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose : so, 
by diligence, shall we do more with less perplexity. Sloth 
makes all things difficult, but Industry all things easy, as Poor 
Richard says : and He that riseth late, must trot all day ; and 
shall scarce overtake his business at night. While Laziness 
travels so slowly, that Poverty soon overtakes him, as we read in 
Poor Richard ; who adds, Drive thy business ! Let not that 
drive thee ! and 

Early to bed, and early to rise, 

Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. 

So what signifies wishing and hoping for better Times ! We 
may make these Times better, if we bestir ourselves ! Industry 
need not wish I as Poor Richard says ; and He that lives on 
Hope, will die fasting. There are no gains without pains. 
Then Help hands ! for I have no lands ; or if I have, they are 
smartly taxed. And as Poor Richard likewise observes, 
He that hath a Trade, hath an Estate, and He that hath a Call- 
ing, hath an Office of Profit and Honour : but, then, the Trade 


must be worked at, and the Calling well followed, or neither 
the Estate, nor the Office, will enable us to pay our taxes. 

If we are industrious, we shall never starve, for, as Poor 
Richard says. At the working man's house, Hunger looks in; 
but dares not enter. Nor will the Bailiff, or the Constable 
enter: for Industry pays debts, zchile Despair increaseth theyn, says 
Poor Richard. 

What though you have found no treasure, nor has any 
rich relation left you a legac}^ Diligence is the Mother of Good- 
luck, as Poor Richard says ; and GOD gives all things to 
Industry. Then 

Plough deep, while sluggards sleep ; 

A nd you shall have corn to sell and to keep, 

says Poor Dick. Work while it is called to-day ; for you 
know not, how much you may be hindered to-morrow : which 
makes Poor Richard say, One To-day is worth two To-morrows^ 
and farther, Have you somewhat to do to-morrow ? do it to-day ! 

If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a 
good master should catch you idle ? Are you then your own 
Master ? Be ashamed to catch yourself idle I as Poor DiCK says. 
When there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, 
your country, and your gracious King ; be up by peep of day ! 
Let not the sun look doivn, ami say, " Inglorious, here he lies I " 
Handle your tools, without mittens ! Remember that The 
cat in glove catches no mice ! as Poor Richard says. 

'Tis true there is much to be done ; and perhaps you are 
weak handed ; but stick to it steadily ! and you will see great 
effects, For Constant dropping wears away stones, and By dili- 
gence and patience, the mouse ate in tiuo the cable, and little 
strokes fell great oaks ; as Poor RiCHARD says in his Almanac, 
the year I cannot, just now, remember. 

Methinks, I hear some of you say, " Must a man afford 
himself no leisure ? " 

"I will tell thee, my friend! what Poor RiCHARD says. 

Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure! and 
Since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour I 

Leisure is time for doing something useful. This leisure the 


diligent man will obtain ; but the la^jy man never. So that, 
as Poor Richard says, .1 life of Ichuvc, ami a life of laziness 
are two things. Do you imagine that Sloth will afford you 
more comfort than Labour? No ! for as Pwjr Richard says, 
Trouble springs front idleness, and grievous toil from needless easr. 
Many withont labour, zaould live by their Wits only ; but theyll 
break, for want of Stock [i.e., Capital]. Whereas Industry 
gives comfort, and plenty, and respect. Fly Pleasures I and 
they'll follow you! The diligent spinner has a large shift, and 

Now I have a sheep and a cow 
Everybody bids ntc " Good morrow.'" 

All which is well said by Poor RiCHARD. 

But with our Industry ; we must likewise be Steady, 
Settled, and Careful : and oversee our own affairs with our 
own eyes, and not trust too much to others. For, as Poor 
Richard says, 

/ never saw an oft removed tree. 

Nor yet an oft removed family, 

That throve so well, as tliose that settled be. 

And again, Three Removes are as bad as a T'ire ; and again 
Keep thy shop! and thy shop will keep thee ! and again, // you 
would have your business done, go ! if not, send ! and again, 

He that by the plough would thrive ; 
Himself must either hold or drive. 

And again. The Eye of the master will do more work than both 
his Hands; and again. Want of Care does us more damage than 
Want of Knowledge ; and again, Not to oversee workmen, is to 
leave them your purse open. 

Trusting too much to others' care, is the ruin of many. 
For, as the Almanac says. In th: affairs of this zvorld, men 
are saved, not by faith, but by the want of it. But a man's own 
care is profitable ; for, saith Poor Dick, Learning is to the 
Studious, and Riches to the Careful ; as well as Power to the 
Pold, and Heaven to the Virtuous. And further, If you would 
have a fait hf id servant, and one that you like ; serve yourself ! 

And again, he advisetii to circumspection and care, even in 

582 We must add Frugality to Industry, [yjui^.'^rs".' 

the smallest matters ; because sometimes, A little neglect may 
breed great mischief: adding, For want