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CORNELL UNIVERSHY LIBRARY 
 
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Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924065041356 
 
Ballati^ from Si^anmtxii^ts. 
 
 mi M. 
 
MUXi& from M^nn&tvipt^. 
 
 PART I. A POORE MANS PITTANCE, 
 
 BY 
 
 EICHAED WILLIAMS. 
 
 EDITED FROM THE AUTOGRAPH MS. BY 
 
 F. J. FUKNIYALL, M.A. 
 
 PART II. BALLADS RELATING CHIEFLY TO THE 
 REIGN OE aUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 EDITED, "WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES TO THE "WHOLE VOLUME, 
 
 BY 
 
 W. E. MOEFILL, M.A., 
 
 ORIEL COLI-KGe, OXFORD, 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 C&e iBallaD ^ocietp, 
 
 BY STEPHEN AUSTIN AND SONS, , v %, 
 HERTFORD. •- '^ 
 
 1873. ;^ fV ,,•■ 1^ 
 
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 3 and 10 
 
 HERTFORD: 
 
 STEPHEN AUSTIN AND EONS, PBINTSSS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface ix 
 
 Inteoddction xi 
 
 PART I. 
 
 I. A POORE MANS PITTANCE, by Richard WiUiains 
 The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington 
 Anthonie Babington, his Complaint 
 
 2. The Life and Death of Essex .... 
 
 3. Acclamatio Patrie, or the Powder Treasons . 
 
 {: 
 
 -60 
 
 5 
 
 9 
 
 23 
 
 39 
 
 PART II. 
 II. 4. OF EDWARD, DUZE OF BOKYNGAM . . 61-65 
 
 III. POEMS RELATING TO ttUEEN ELIZABETH . 66-141 
 
 5. The Partheniades of George Puttenham .... 72 
 
 6. Elizabeth, Lord Saue, 
 
 A proper new ballade, wherein is plaine to be seene 
 
 how god blesseth england for loue of o' Queene . . 92 
 
 7. A Poem in Praise of Queeii Elizabeth . . . .96 
 
 8. Vpon the Death of Queen Elizabeth .... 98 
 
 9. Vpon Sir Francis Drakes returne from his Voyage about 
 
 y" world & the Queenes meeting him .... 100 
 
 10. On Queene Elizabeth Queene of England . . . 101 
 
 11. On Queen Elizabeth 102 
 
 Nonconformity in the time of Elizabeth .... 103 
 The copie of the petition, by the gentlemen of Suffolk, 
 
 to the Lords of the Counsaile. An° Dom. 1583, July 105 
 
 12. A hartie thankes giuinge to god for our queenes most 
 
 excellent maiestie, and is to be sounge to y^ tune of 
 
 y« Medley 109 
 
 13. Queen Elizabeth's Eejoyciug 112 
 
 14. Latin Verses on Elizabeth's proposed Marriage with Anjou 114 
 
 15. Teshe's Verses on the Order of the Garter . . .115 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PACK 
 
 16. To the blessed Sainct of famose memory Elizabeth ; The~ 
 
 humble petition of her now wretched and contemptible 
 
 y^ Commons of Englande 130 
 
 17. The Answere to the Libell called 
 
 The Commons teares : 
 The wiper of the peoples teares, 
 The dryer vp of doubts and feares . . . 132 
 
 18. To the most high and mighty, the most piouse and merci- 
 
 fuU, y^ cheife Chancellor of Heauen and ludge of 
 Earth ; The most humble Petitions of y^ poore dis- 
 tressed Commons of long aflSicted Englande . . 137 
 
 IV. THE CANDLEWICK LETTERS .... 142-156 
 
 19. Letter from John Downynge to his friend Bland . , 142 
 
 20. Letters from the Deventer Crew to the Candlewick Crew 144 
 
 21. The Second Letter of the Deventer Crew . . . 149 
 
 22. Answer of the Candlewick Crew 153 
 
 V. POEMS RELATING TO CAMPION (Introduction by 
 
 Mr. R. Simpson) 157-191 
 
 23. I. A Libell touching Campion 164 
 
 24. II. Vpon the death of M. Edmund Campion, one of the 
 
 Societie of the holy name of Jesus .... 166 
 
 25. An other, vpon the same 173 
 
 26. A Dialogue betwene a Catholike and Consolation . . 175 
 
 27. The complaynt of a Catholike for the death of M. Edmund 
 
 Campion 177 
 
 28. III. Verses in the Libell, made in prayse of the death of 
 
 Maister Campion, one of the societie of the holie name 
 of Jesus ; heere chaunged to the reproofe of him and 
 the other Traitours 180 
 
 29. Another vpon the Same 185 
 
 30. A Dialogue betweene a Christian and Consolation . . 187 
 
 31. The Complaint of a Christian, remembring the vnnaturall 
 
 treasons of Edmund Campion and his Confederates . 189 
 
 32. IV. Campion's Example 191 
 
 VI. TWO POEMS BY JOHN LILLIAT . . . 192-194 
 
 33. The Spider's Web (or Anacharsis sayinge of Solons written 
 
 Lawes) 192 
 
 34. Lilliat, his Maleoontent 193 
 
CONTENTS, Vll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 VII. POEMS aEFERBING TO THE EARL OF ESSEX 195-259 
 The Queenes ma. prayer at the goinge owt of the uavye, 
 
 1597 197 
 
 A brief relation of which happened in the expedition of 
 the lord lieutenant generall of Ireland towards y® north 
 parte of that kingdom from the 28 of August vntill the 
 
 ix. of September, 1599 199 
 
 Knightes made in Erland 1599 by the E. Essex . . 204 
 
 Contemporary account of the Death of Essex . . 208 
 
 Another contemporary account 211 
 
 35. Verses vpon the report of the death of the right Honor- 
 
 able the Lord of Essex 217 
 
 36. A Poem made on the Earle of Essex (being in disgrace 
 
 with Queene Eliz) : by m"^ henry Cuffe his Secretary . 240 
 
 37. Elegy on the E[arl] of Essex 245 
 
 38. [Robert Earle of Essex against Sir Walter Eawleigh] . 250 
 
 39. Verses made by the Earle of Essex in his Trouble . .251 
 
 40. The disparinge'complainte of wretched Eawleighe for his 
 
 treacheries wrought against the worthie Essex • . 252 
 
 VIII. SIR WALTER RALEIGH 260-269 
 
 41. Bawleighs Caueat to Secure Courtiers .... 262 
 
 42. On S'" Wa. Ealeigh's Death 269 
 
 IX, POEMS RELATING TO LORD BACON . . 270-278 
 
 43. Do'' Lewis, his foolish invectiue against the Parlament 
 
 for proceedinge to censure his Lord Verulame . .271 
 
 44. Latin Verses on Bacon 277 
 
 45. Verses made by an vnknowne Author vpon the falle of S' 
 
 Francys Bacon Lord Verulam, viscounte St. Albons & 
 Late Lord Chauncelor of Englande .... 277 
 
 46. Verses made by Mr. Era. Bacon 278 
 
 X. POEMS ON WARWICK AND FROBISHER . 279-285 
 
 47. Lord of Warrick 279 
 
 48. Thomas Ellis in Praise of Frobisher . . . .282 
 
 49. John Kirkham of Martin Frobisher . . . .284 
 
VIU CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XI. POEMS FEOM THE JACKSON MS. . . . 286-300 
 
 Vicars on Queen Elizabeth 286 
 
 50.. A succinct memoriall of that matchles mirror of princely- 
 royalty, Queene of vertue, patronesse of Christian piety, 
 and patterne of most worthy inimitable vertues and 
 endowments of grace and godnes, angelicall Elizabeth 287 
 James the First 288 
 
 51. Verses vpo the Kings workes to Oabridge dedicated . 289 
 
 52. Vpo the death of Queene Anne — the verses of King James 290 
 
 53. An Epitaph of y* second Alexander, Prince Henry, that 
 
 glorious daystar of Brytan's consort, too soone hid fro 
 vs by y" cloud of God's wrath : y' most oderiferous 
 flower of Englands hope, too suddenly nipt by the 
 chilling frost of heavens high displeasure . . . 291 
 
 54. The good Sheepheards sorrow for the death of his sonne 
 
 P. Henrye 292 
 
 55. Against the Papists : For thinking it meritorious to kill 
 
 the King and all his Protestants, cause they be not of 
 their Church— desiring subversion rather than con- 
 
 uprsion 293 
 
 Bobert Cecil 297 
 
 56. Vpon the death of Robert Cecill, in Queene Elizabeth's 
 
 raigne Lord Treasurer and Master of the Wardes and 
 
 Liveries 297 
 
 ' The Winter-King 298 
 
 67. In obitum Henrici Frederici majoris natu Frederici 
 
 comitis palatini 299 
 
 Notes 301 
 
 Index of the first lines 309 
 
 General Index 311 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It will not be necessary that I should say much by 
 way of preface to the iniscellanepus collection in- 
 cluded in the present volume. The notices appended 
 to each of the pieces will speak for them. Although 
 for the most part deficient in poetical merit, they 
 will have their value to the antiquarian and historical 
 student. Many of the most life-like sketches and 
 photographic portraits by Macaulay were drawn from 
 the contemporaneous broadsides which he laid under 
 contribution, and we have all, no doubt, felt surprise 
 on running our eyes over the notes to his invaluable 
 works when we have realized the strange sources 
 whence his information was frequently drawn. The 
 immortal chapter on the condition, of England and 
 the manners of the English in the time of Charles II. 
 could only have been written by one who had made 
 an exhaustive study of the fugitive literature of the 
 Caroline period. 
 
 Several of the pieces included in this book have 
 unfortunately been already printed ; but as they have 
 III. 6 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 made their appearance in works which have now 
 become excessively rare, their reproduction cannot be 
 unwelcome to the reader. 
 
 In conclusion, I must thank Mr. (Adams) Cokayne, 
 formerly Eouge Dragon, now Somerset Herald, for 
 some valuable information on the personages named 
 in Teshe's poem. Eor the Introduction and Notes 
 on the Campion poems I am indebted to Mr. Eichard 
 Simpson, the author of an exhaustive biography of 
 the unfortunate priest. 
 
 Mr. Furnivall edited the text of Eichard "Williams's 
 Poor Mans Pittance from the author's MS. for the 
 Society in 1868. I have now added, at his request, 
 an Introduction and Notes to it. He wishes to correct 
 the date [1604] in the last line of p. 2 to [1605], as 
 Williams miscalled the third year of James I. " The 
 seconde yeare." I must thank him for many valuable 
 suggestions, and the kind interest he has taken in the 
 book throughout. 
 
 W. E. MOEFILL. 
 
 OxroKD. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Anthony Babington. 
 
 The cruel policy adopted by Elizabeth towards the Koraan 
 Catholics, her unjust detention in prison of Mary Queen of Scots, 
 and the loud and frequent anathemas hurled against her by Pope 
 and Spaniard, caused her reign to be fertile in plots and intrigues. 
 The position of the Papists during this time had become very 
 anomalous. . In consequence of the Bull issued against her by 
 Pius V. declaring that she was never at any time the true Queen 
 of England, and absolving all her subjects from their allegiance, 
 the Government resolved to take even more stringent measures 
 than had been adopted previously. By 13 Eliz. it was treason 
 to call the Queen heretic, schismatic or usurper, to introduce 
 a Papal Bull, or to send relief to the fugitives over sea. 
 
 Even the most private practice of their religion was forbidden 
 to Eomanists ; at any hour they might be hurried before the 
 Courts of High Commission, where they could be interrogated 
 as to how often they had been at church, and were in consequence 
 liable to fines and imprisonment. Their houses were constantly 
 being searched, and even foreign ambassadors complained that 
 their chapels were visited by informers. 
 
 In 1581 a severe statute was passed, which was entitled " An 
 Act to retain the Queen's Majesty's subjects in their due obedience " 
 (23 Eliz. c. 1). It is thereby provided that any person pervert- 
 ing another to the Eomish religion should be treated as a 
 traitor, and the person reconciled incur the penalty of misprision 
 of treason. Saying mass was to be punished by a fine of 200 
 marks ; hearing it by a fiue of 100 marks, with, in each case, a, 
 
 62 
 
XU INTRODUCTION. 
 
 year's imprisonment. Absence from churcli was to be visited with 
 the infliction of a fine of £20 a month ; and if it continued for 
 a year or more, two sureties of £200 each were to be given for 
 future good behaviour. 
 
 The kingdom was now full of spies, and the rack and gallows 
 daily claimed their victims. The country saw something very like 
 a renewal of the far-famed Marian persecutions, which form so 
 dark a page in our national fasti, and have earned a very dis- 
 agreeable epithet for their supposed aulhorizer. Although the 
 English Eoman Catholics showed considerable loyalty at the 
 time of the Armada, yet within three months after its defeat, 
 when leniency might have become cheap from so unsuspected 
 a triumph, more than thirty persons — laity and clergy included — 
 were put to death on account of their creed. 
 
 A statute was enacted, compelling those Catholics not possess- 
 ing 20 marks a year to abjure the realm within three months 
 after conviction, under the penalty of felony without benefit of 
 clergy. In 1593 a very severe Act was passed against Popish 
 recusants — as the Court phrase was. They were now not to 
 travel a distance of more than five miles from their houses. 
 
 It can be readily imagined that these Draconian enactments 
 produced ah average quota of victims. The names of the un- 
 happy victims are duly paraded before us by Lingard. To the 
 man who reads history in an unprejudiced spirit they prove — 
 if any proof were needed — how veryJittle the doctrine of re- 
 ligious toleration was understood, obviously a growth of far 
 later times. In pp. 157-191 of this book mention is made of 
 the sufferings of Campion. But perhaps one of the saddest 
 instances of this injudicious severity is furnished by the fate of 
 Eobert Southwell. 
 
 This unfortunate man was a Eomish priest, who was appre- 
 hended in 1592, while domiciled in the house of the Countess of 
 Arundel. He was thrown into the Tower, and frequently put to 
 the torture. After three years' imprisonment, he was, on his own 
 application, brought to trial, and so eager were his judges to 
 
IXTRODUCTION. XIU 
 
 carry out his sentence, that he was even consigned to the execu- 
 tioner on the following day. Lord Burghley, who had been 
 implored to make some settlement of his case, and release him 
 from the dungeon in which he was languishing, brutajly re- 
 marked, that " if he was in such haste to be hanged, he should 
 have his desire." His poems, many of which are of great beauty, 
 are well known to the lovers of our older English literature.' 
 
 Of the various plots attempted in this reign, the most important, 
 from its fatal effects upon the captive Queen of Scots, and the 
 romantic character of some of those implicated in it, was un- 
 questionably that of Anthony Babington and his followers, 
 whose dismal fate forms the subject of the poem printed on 
 Images 5-22. 
 
 In this remarkable conspiracy three distinct elements may be 
 traced : first, that of the enthusiasts sent into the country by the 
 Pope, who aimed at nothing less than the assassination of the 
 Queen ; secondly, some English Catholics, who joined with 
 a view to better the condition of their co-religionists, but pro- 
 bably with no design upon the person of their Sovereign ; and 
 thirdly, the counterplot inaugurated by Walsingham and his 
 spies, who hoped so far to implicate ]Mary that her detection 
 should involve the loss of her life. Anthony Babington, 
 the chief figure in this web of threads and cross-threads, 
 — a hot-headed youth, with a handsome figure, well-stored 
 purse, and little discretion, — was the son of a certain Henry 
 Babington, of Dethick, in Derbyshire, an opulent landowner. 
 The estate had come into the family by the marriage of Thomas, 
 second son of Sir John Babington, of Chilwell, with Isabella, 
 daughter and heiress of Eobert Dethick, who died in 1467. 
 
 ' Thus how solemnly funereal and mournfully quaint are the stanzas beginning, 
 " Before my face the picture hangs," to be found, it is true, in almost every book . 
 of extracts, but none the worse for being somewhat hackneyed, as we cannot hear 
 such choice poems too often. When we read this poem, we seem to be gazing 
 into an open grave. There is something very fine, too, about Southwell's prose, 
 especially his " Marie Magdalen's Funerall Tearcs." 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The unfortunate Anthony was horn in 1569, and lost his father 
 ten years after his birth. During his minority his mother 
 married again : her second husband being Henry Foljambe, who 
 seems to have treated his step-son with great kindness. This 
 circumstance is alluded to in the poem (pp. 10, 11) : — 
 
 " But in the state of -widowhode not longe shee tarried, 
 For with that good gentleman, Henrye Foliambe she married. 
 Whoe 'loved vs all tenJerlie as wee had bene his owne, 
 And was verye carefuU of oure education." 
 
 In favour of this gentleman Anthony charged his estates with 
 100 marks per annum, as a token of his gratitude. Besides 
 himself, his father had left two daughters and three sons, Francis, 
 George, and Charles. The latter is said to have committed suicide 
 in prison, probably because implicated in the conspiracy for which 
 his brother suffered. On the 2oth September, 1587, among the 
 prisoners in the Clink, we find Charles Babington. 
 
 The early youth of Anthony seems to have been spent in 
 gaiety and the various amusements of the town. Being too early 
 master of himself, and with abundance of means at hie disposal, 
 he led a wild and reckless existence, no doubt frequenting the 
 theatres, where certainly his morals would not be improved, if 
 Stubbes has given us a correct account in his Anatomic of Abuses, 
 1584) ;"-... Marke the flookyng and runnyng to Theaters 
 and Curteins, daylie and hourelie, night and dale, tyme and tide, 
 to see Plaies and Enterludes, where suche wanton gestures, 
 snche bawdie speeches, suche laughyng and flearying, such kiss- 
 yng and bussyng, suche clippyng and culling, such wincking 
 and glauncing of wanton eyes, and the like, is used, as is 
 wonderful! to beholde." — The English Drama and Stage, Koxb. 
 Libr. 1869, p. 223. We feel that we have a picture of him 
 when Dekker is describing the deportment of a gallant in Paul's 
 . walks ; and the later sketch of Earle ' will suit him well, when 
 drawing the dandy of his time : — " Hee obserues London trulier 
 
 ' Miorocosmographie, edited by Arber, p. 39. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 then the Termers, and his businesse is the street : the stage, the 
 court, and those places where a proper man is best showne. If 
 hee be qualified in gaming extraordinary, he is so much the 
 more gentle and compleate, and hee learnes the beast [best] 
 oathes for the purpose. These are a great part of his discourse, 
 and he is as curious in their newnesse as the fashion. His other 
 talke is Ladies and such pretty things, or some iests at a Play. 
 His Pick-tooth beares a great part in his discourse, so does his 
 body; the vpper parts whereof are as starcht as his linnen, 
 and perchance vse the same Laundr^sse. Hee has learnt to 
 ruffle his face from his Boote, and takes great delight in his 
 
 walke to heare his Spurs gingle He is one neuer 
 
 serious but with his Taylor, when hee is in conspiracie for the 
 next deuice." 
 
 Everything shows, however, that the unfortunate youth was 
 of a friendly and genial temperament, and much endeared to his 
 friends. There is something very touching in the words of 
 Chidiock Tichbourne on the scaffold : " Before this thing chanced 
 we lived together in the most flourishing estate. Of whom 
 went report in the Strand, Fleet Street, and elsewhere about 
 London, but of Babington and Tichbourne ? No threshold was 
 of force to brave our entry. Thus we lived, and wanted nothing 
 we could wish for, and God knows what less in my head than 
 matters of state ! I have always thought it impious, and denied 
 to be a dealer in it ; but in regard of my friend I was silent, and 
 so consented." 
 
 Babington appears to have made some profession of studying the 
 law. He soon after married Margery, daughter of his guardian, 
 Philip Draycot, of Pay-nsley or Peinsley, in Staffordshire, by 
 whom he had one daughter, Mary, who died at the age of eight 
 years. It was a Eoman Catholic family, and we find Draycot 
 apprehended as a recusant in 1587. 
 
 At the persuasion of John Ballard, a priest, who had entered 
 England in disguise, and made a tour through a considerable 
 part of the country to tamper with the disaffected and those who 
 
Xvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 were attached to the old faith, Babington joined the conspiracy, 
 the leading features of which seem to have been the assassination 
 of Elizabeth and the liberation of the Queen of Scots. Two 
 other chief participators were a desperado named Savage, who 
 had served the King of Spain in the war then raging against the 
 revolted Netherlands, and a certain Pooley, who, although to all 
 appearance faithful to the conspirators, was in reality in secret 
 communication with Walsingham, Elizabeth's minister. 
 
 Mary, whose hopes of release had recently become fainter than 
 ever through the treaty which had been concluded between her 
 son James and the English Queen, was induced to become a 
 participator in this plot, although at her trial she steadfastly 
 affirmed that she had consented to nothing but an insurrection, 
 and was in no way privy to the attempt on the life of her 
 persecutor. A secret correspondence was carried on between 
 Mary and Babington. The letters were all written in cipher ; 
 but in each instance Walsingham was made acquainted with the 
 sending. The epistles were opened on their transmission, de- 
 ciphered, and resealed by two experts, named Phelipps and 
 Gregory, and forwarded to their destination, as if they had not 
 been tampered with. 
 
 On the lith of July, 1586, Mary is said to have received 
 an important communication from Babington. It described the 
 projected invasion of the country, the plan for her escape, and for 
 the assassination. "This letter," says Tytler, "was not produced 
 at the trial, and Mary denied ever having received it." The 
 original certainly does not exist at present, but what purports 
 to be a copy in a clerk's hand has been preserved. Besides 
 the contents previously mentioned, Babington apologizes for 
 his long silence, which he attributes to the extreme difficulty 
 of safe communication with her. He tells her that six 
 gentlemen had been selected for the honourable office of assassi- 
 nating the Queen, and conjures her to be mindful of their 
 posterity should they perish in the attempt. In her reply to 
 this remarkable document, Mary fully accepts the responsibilities 
 
INTRODUCTION. XVll 
 
 of the conspiracy;' that is, if the document at present passing 
 for her answer, which does not profess to be any more than a 
 copy, and is preserved in the State Paper Office, has not been 
 tampered with by Walsingham, as was asserted by Camden, and 
 is also insinuated- by Tytler.'' The plan of the wily secretary 
 had now fully succeeded ; it only remained to seize his victim, 
 who had never indulged a suspicion that her correspondence had 
 met any other eyes than those for which it was intended. 
 
 She was at this time a prisoner at Chartley, in Staffordshire, 
 and Phelipps, who deciphered the letters, was living under the same 
 roof with her. She had remarked the man about the premises, 
 and had a sort of half notion that his mission boded no good. 
 In a letter, still preserved, she has left a description of this 
 fellow as slender, yellow-bearded, pitted in the face with small- 
 pox, and short-sighted ; so that we have as it were a photogi'aph 
 of Walsingham's creature transmitted to us — a man fitted for dark 
 passages and by-paths, just such a person as under a despotic 
 government becomes a police-spy. 
 
 The Queen of Scots was still fond of and still able to indulge 
 in the pleasures of the chase. On the morning of the 8th of 
 August her keeper. Sir Amias Paulet — the same who had, with 
 such virtue or prudence, resisted the dark hints given him by 
 Elizabeth about poisoning his captive — invited her to hunt on 
 
 ' The mention of the design of the six gentlemen exists only in a postscript 
 to the letter, and the defenders of Mary— notably Prince Labanoflf and latterly 
 M. Petit [" History of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots." Translated from Professor 
 Petit by Charles de Flandre. London, 1874.]— consider it to have been fabri- 
 cated by Phelipps. The subject is also cleverly handled in the new work of 
 Father Morris ("The Letter-books of Sir Araias Poulet," 1874), who considers 
 that the passage is inconsistent with other parts of the letter, where Mary is 
 apprehensive of the punishment which Elizabeth will probably inflict upon her 
 friends, if she succeeds in effecting her escape. She could therefore hardly have 
 contemplated the immediate assassination of her enemy. The question is too 
 intricate to admit of being discussed here, and I cannot do better than refer the 
 reader to the above-mentioned work of Morris (pp. 227-242), where he will find 
 the specious argument of Mr. Froude demolished with much ingenuity. 
 
 2 "History of Scotland," vol. iv, p. 127. Edin. 1864. 
 
XVUl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the neighbouring estate of Tixall. She rode with a small retinue, 
 including her two secretaries, Nau and Curie, from Chartley, but 
 on her way was stopped by a Mr. Thomas Gorges, who informed 
 her of the detection of the conspiracy, and further that she was 
 to be conveyed to Tixall, and not to be allowed to return to 
 Chartley. At first she abandoned herself to a paroxysm of rage 
 and despair, and called upon her companions to rescue their 
 mistress from the traitors who had ventured to lay hands upon 
 her. Her passion, however, lasted but for a moment. Eeflecting 
 how useless all opposition must be, she allowed herself to be 
 carried off; while her attendants Nau and Curie were detained, 
 and her desk and papers rifled and ransacked by the obsequious 
 emissaries of Elizabeth. 
 
 Leaving, however, the unfortunate Queen, over whom already 
 the shadow of the scaffold was looming, let us trace the fate of the 
 foolish men who had linked themselves to this insane enterprise. 
 
 On the following day Ballard, the priest, was arrested, and 
 Babington now suddenly found that Pooley had betrayed them. 
 Being closely watched and hotly pursued upon the faintest trace 
 of their presence being indicated, he and his feUow conspirators 
 hid themselves in the neighbourhood of Harrow and St. John's 
 Wood.^ The search became more and more careful. Indeed we 
 have a letter from Lord Burghley himself, stimulating the zeal 
 of the pursuers, and finding fault with their inadequate caution, 
 because, instead of dispersing, they hunted their victims in 
 gangs, thereby arousing suspicion. Moreover, as he tells them, 
 their ideas of the persons who were to be arrested were far 
 from accurate. They seem only to have known that one of the 
 leading malefactors "had a hooked nose." Perhaps Babington 
 was the gentleman (to follow the direction) "talle of stature, 
 of whitely complexion, somewhat rownde faced, his beard flaxen 
 
 • These circumstances are narrated minutely by Mr. Froude, who has treated 
 the whole subject somewhat sensationally, and perhaps drawn too much upon an 
 exuberant imagination. 
 
INTRODL'CnON. XIX 
 
 and out storte, having a doublett and hose of yeallowe fustian 
 and a russet cloake." 
 
 Williams is very explicit in giving the names of all those who 
 were apprehended and suffered. They were finally, fourteen in 
 number, brought to trial. The indictment charged them with 
 a two-fold conspiracy, one plot to murder the Queen, and another 
 to raise a rebellion within the realm in favour of Mary Stuart. 
 Many of the prisoners had been apprehended in the house of 
 a farmer, named Bellamy, who was destined to pay dear for his 
 mistaken hospitality. He is alluded to in the poem — 
 
 "Lastlie Bellamye, our hoste, that made us all the chere." 
 
 Babington, Ballard, Savage, Barnewell, Tichebourne, and Donne, 
 admitted their guilt : the remaining pleaded not guilty, and 
 of these five were convicted as accomplices on the authority 
 of passages extracted from the confessions of the others, and 
 two, Grage and Bellamy, as accessories after the fact, because 
 they had assisted the conspirators after the proclamation issued 
 against them.' 
 
 * "Jerome Bellamye attaynted by yerdict of xij men. His offence was in that 
 he ayded and releyved Babington, Barnewell, and Dune in the woods and in his 
 mother's haye barne, after that he vnderstood that searche was made for them 
 as traytors, for conspiring the deathe of the Qneene's Majestic." — Quoted from 
 the Meliquary, yol. a. ■p. 177. "In his examination Richard Mascall, servant 
 to Mrs. Bellamy, stated that lerome Bellamy appoynted him to guide the 
 parties, and willed him to carry meat to these parties ; he met with them in 
 the wood & knew Donne, for that Donne had been divers times at Mrs. 
 Bellamy's house: he saw them first lying on the ground in the woods, and 
 then he went to his Mistress' house ; when in the house he saw Donne and 
 lerome. lerome delivered unto this party (Mascall) the meat & 3 loaves of 
 bread, which this party carried at night : they ran to the hay barn on Thursday 
 night & all five lay there. The meat was dressed in his Mistress' house. Upon 
 Sunday at night they were altogether in the woods. Donne and Gage were 
 taken upon Sunday night between 8 & 9 of the clock at night, and this party 
 being with them fled from the watchmen. Mr. Donne hath a son at Windsor, 
 dwelling in a farm called Sbawe, who is servant to the Master of the Rolls (Sir 
 Gilbert Gerard). Dolman & one Walle came of late to his Mistress' house. 
 Donne told this pirty that all these other parties did seek to save themselves for 
 religion's sake." — The Beliquanj, vol. ii. p. 181. 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 On the day of his execution, Sept. 20th, Babingtou acknow- 
 ledged and subscribed before the Privy Council the document 
 (still preserved in the State Paper Office) in which he con- 
 fessed his secret correspondence with the Scotch Queen. " This 
 last is the alphabet by which only I have written with the Queene 
 of Scotts, or receaved letters from her." 
 
 The wretched men were led to death according to the order 
 and in the manner described in the ballad. Lincoln's Inn Fields 
 was the place appointed for this melancholy spectacle, because 
 they had been accustomed to meet there to concoct their con- 
 spiracy. Ballard suffered first, and after him Babington. He is 
 said to have maintained a haughty demeanour on the scaffold, 
 refusing either to kneel or to take off his hat. The curious 
 reader may see the full details of his death in Howell's State 
 Trials; but the account is too harrowing for transcription here. 
 The cruel mode of execution which prevailed at this time, and 
 lasted, we must remember, till the middle of the eighteenth 
 century, caused the miserable prisoner to be almost embowelled 
 and quartered alive. Strong as was the feeling against these 
 misguided men, and sluggish as were all public demonstrations 
 at this time, the sickening butchery met with such reprobation 
 from the people that it was considered injudicious to attempt to 
 repeat it on the following day, although we are told that the 
 Queen was particularly anxious that the culprits should pay their 
 penalty to the full. 
 
 Those who suffered on the 21st of September were simply 
 hanged: the disgusting accessories of their punishment being 
 omitted. 
 
 A touching letter was written by poor Babington, just before 
 he suffered. A copy of it is preserved among the Ashmolean 
 MSS. (Ash. MS. 781, leaf 73.) "The Coppie of Anthony 
 Babington's let' Avritten to Queene Eliza : being in Prison for 
 high treason committed against her Ma"°." I here add it from 
 the Beliquanj, vol. i. p. 3 ; 
 
INTEODUCriON. xxi 
 
 " Most gratious Souvraigne, yf either bitter teares, a pensive contrite harte, 
 ore any dutyfuU sight of the wretched Synner might work any pitty in your 
 royall brest, I would wringe out of my drayned eyes as much bloode as in be- 
 moaniuge my drery tragedye shold lamentably bewayll my faulte, & somewhat 
 (no dought) move you to compassion, but synnce there is no proportions 
 betwixte the qualitye of my crimes and any human commiseration, Showe 
 sweet Queene, some mirakle on a wretch that lyethe prostrate in yr prison, most 
 grivously bewaylinge his offence, and imploringe such comforte at your anoynted 
 hande as my poore wives misfortunes doth begge, my childe innocente doth 
 crave, my gyltless family doth wishe, and my heynous trecherye dothe leaste 
 deserve. So shall your divine mersy make your glorye shyne as far above all 
 princes, as my most horrible practices are more detestable amongst your beste 
 subjectes, whom lovinglye and happielye to governe, 
 
 " I humbly beseche the mercye Master himself to grante for his sweet Sonnes 
 sake, lesus Christe. 
 
 " Yor maties moste unfortunate, bicause most disloyall subiecte, 
 
 " Anthonye Babington." • 
 
 ' I extract the following from the ReVqiMry, vol. i. pp. 52-53 : — " Stowe, 
 in his 'Summarie of the Chronicles of England' in 1604, speaking of the 
 execution, says : ' On the 15th September other 7 were likewise arraigned, who 
 pleaded not guiltie, were found guilty by lury, and had judgement. These 
 traytors, 14 in number, were executed in Lincoln's Inne-fields, on a stage or 
 scaffold of timber, strongly made for that purpose ;, even in the place where they 
 had used to meete, & to conferre of their trayterous practices, there were they 
 hanged, bowelled, and quartered, 7 of thew? on the 20 of Sep. to wit — J. Ballard, 
 priest; A. Babyngton, Esquire ; J. Savadge, Gent. ; R. Barnwell, Gen. ; Chidiake 
 Tichborn, Esquire ; Charles Tilney, Esquire ; E. Avington, Esquire. The other 
 7 were likewise executed on the 21 of September, to wit — T. Salisbury, Esquire ; 
 Henrie Dunne, Gent. ; Edward Jones, Esquire ; I. Traverse, Gent. ; I.Charnocke, 
 Gent. ; E. Gage, Gen. ; lerome Bellamie, Gent. ; ' etc. 
 
 " In a veiy rare black-letter tract, ' The Censure of a Loyall Snbiect upon 
 certaine noted Speaeh & behauiours of those fourteene' notable Traitors, at the 
 place of their executions, the xx. & xxi. of September, last past,' printed in 
 1587, in the possession of the Editor, the following account of the execution 
 occurs : — * * * 
 
 ' "Wilk. Next unto this priest, Anthony Babbington was made ready to the 
 Gallowes, and in euery point was handled like unto Ballard. 
 
 ' West. Little may be the mono, bad was the best ; but what observed you 
 in his end ? 
 
 ' Wilk. A signe of his former pride, for whereas the rest, through the cogita- 
 tion of death, were exercised in praier upon their knees, and hare headed, 
 he whose tourne was next, stode on his feete, with his hat on his head, as 
 if he had been but a beholder of the execution : concerning his religion, he 
 died a papist. His treasons were so odious, as the sting of conscie«ce perswaded 
 him to 'acknowledge himselfe to be a most grievous trespasser against God & 
 the Queen's Majesty. • « * 
 
 'Wilk. Next unto Babington, Sauadge was made ready for the execution.' " 
 
XXU rNTRODUCTION. 
 
 Among a curious list of Lis boolcs and other chattels, given by 
 Mr. Purton Cooper in the " Eeliquary," we find many Eoraan 
 Catholic works of devotion, whicli were found hidden under a 
 pile of wood. A handsome clock was appropriated by the Queen, 
 who seized on all his estates, except those whicli were settled, 
 and conferred them upon Sir Walter Ealeigh. Of Dethick, the 
 former seat of Babington, nothing at present remains : " all is 
 open field," but we find the name of the family still lingering 
 in " Babington lane " at Derby. 
 
 The history of another of the conspirators presents such touch- 
 ing passages that we make a few extracts from it. Chidiock 
 Tichbourne (called Tushbourne in the indictment) seems to have 
 been a young man of handsome fortune and singular promise. 
 He had been unhappily seduced into the conspiracy from his 
 friendship with Babington, no doubt hardly realizing to what 
 extremities the matter would drift. I have already quoted an 
 interesting extract from his address to the spectators while on 
 the scaffold. I will close this short notice with the letter of 
 Tichbourne to his wife, written the night before bis execution, 
 and the pathetic verses which he composed on his own most 
 melancholy fate. They wei"e published in the Beliquim Wot- 
 toniancB, but perhaps have obtained more ample notice from their 
 introduction into Isaac Disraeli's Curiosities of Literature.' 
 
 "A letter written by Chidiock Tichbourne the night before he 
 suffered death, unto his wife, dated anno 1586. 
 
 " To tlie most loving wife alive ; I commend me untn her, and dfsire God to 
 bless her with all happiness ; let her pray for her dead husband, nnd he of good 
 comforte, for I hope in Jesus Christ this raorning to see the face "bf my Maker 
 and Eedeemer in tlie most joyful throne of his gloiious kingdome. Commend 
 me to all my friends, and desire tliem to pray for me, and in all charitie to pardon 
 me, if I have offended them. Commend me to my six sisteis, poore desolate 
 souks, advise them to serve God, for without him no goodness is to be expected : 
 were it possible, my little sister Bahb, the darling of my race, might be bred by 
 
 1 Disraeli tells us that he discovered them among the Harleian MSS. (36, 50). His account 
 of tUo conspiracy is pleasantly written. See Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii. p, 171, ed. 1859, 
 
INTRODUCTION. XX HI 
 
 her, God would rewaide her ; but I do her wrong I confesse, that hath by my 
 desolate negligence too little for herselfe, to add a further charge unto her. 
 Deere wife, forgive me that have by these means so much impoverished her 
 fortunes ; patience and pardon, good wife, I crave — mate of these our necessities 
 a virtue, and lay no further burthen on my neck than hath already been. There 
 -be certain debts that I owe, and because I knowe not the order of the lawe, 
 piteous it hatb taken from me all, forfeited by my course of offence to her 
 majestie. 1 cannot advise thee to benefit me herein, but if there fall out, where- 
 withal, let them be discharged for God's -sake. I will not that you trouble 
 yourselfe with the performance of these matters, my own heart, but make it 
 knowne to my uncles, and desire tbem, for the honour of God, and ease of their 
 souls, to take care of them as they may, and especially care of my sisters bring- 
 ing up; the burden is now laid on them. Now, sweetcheek, what is left to 
 bestow on thee, a small joynture, a small recompense for thy deservinge, these 
 legacies following to be thine owne. God of his infinite goodness give thee grace 
 alwaies to reranin his true and faithful servant, that through the merits of his 
 bitter and blessed passion thou maist become in good time of his kingdom with 
 all the blessed women in heaven. May the Holy Ghost comfort thee with all 
 necessaries for the wealth of thy soul in the world to come, where, until it shall 
 please Almighty God I raeete thee, farewell lovinge wife, farewell the dearest 
 to me on all the earth, farewell ! 
 
 " Ey the hand from the heart of thy most faithful lovinge husband, 
 
 " Ghideock Tichebourne." 
 
 " Verses 
 
 Made by Chidiock Ticheborne of himself in the Tower, the night 
 
 before he suffered death, who was executed in Lincoln's Inn 
 
 Fields for treason, 1586. 
 
 " My prime of youth is but a frost of cares. 
 My feast of joy is but a dish of pain. 
 My crop of corn is but a field of tares, 
 And all my goods is but vain hope of gain : 
 The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun ; 
 And now I live, and now my life is done ! 
 
 " My spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung ; 
 The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green j 
 My youth is past, and yet I am but young ; 
 I saw the world, and yet I was not seen : 
 My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun ; 
 And now I live, and now my life is done ! 
 
 " I sought for death, and found it in the wombe ; 
 I lookt for life, and yet it was a shade ; 
 I trode the ground, and knew it was my tomb ; 
 And now I die, and now I am but made : 
 The glass is full, and yet my glass is run ; 
 And now I live, and now my life is done ! " ' 
 
 1 Many MSS. exist of this interesting and undoubtedly genuine compoEition, and besides 
 being printed in tlie Reliquicz Wottoniantz and bj^ Disraeli, it also appears in' Ritson's 
 Bibliographia Poetica, page 361. Dr. Uannali, in his "Courtly Poets," 1870, has given ns 
 a reply from a MS. in the possession of Mr J. P. Collier, beginning, " Thy flower of youth 
 is with a north wind blasted" — a piece of no value whatsoever. 
 
XXiy INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The poem of Williams, pp. 9-22, it must be confessed, is not 
 of any great poetical merit. It has, however, the freshness of a 
 contemporaneous production, and adds a few facts to our know- 
 ledge of Babington's early life. Thus there is something very 
 quaint about little Anthony nearly getting hanged with the chain 
 of the good "Foliambe" (p. 11). "Williams is evidently disposed 
 to consider it prophetic of his subsequent fate. 
 
 " But [I] -was not suffred there longe to hange, 
 but was nere strangled or I was taken downe.'' 
 
 His gay roystering life in London has been already mentioned, 
 and is duly commented on in the ballad, perhaps with pious 
 exaggeration. If, however, these young gallants frequented the 
 '•' Curtayne," they were sometimes to be seen at Paul's Cross 
 (p. 13) : 
 
 " Tett to the sermons wee woulde often resorte," 
 
 although Williams adds that they only went there in ridicule of 
 religion. 
 
 The circumstances of the arrest of Babington are very minutely 
 narrated in verses 39, 40 : we see him walking about, accom- 
 panied by his serving-man, in the guise of an ostler. One of 
 the watch — a weaver by trade — is on the look-out for him, and 
 is not to be put off by the affected nonchalance of Anthony : 
 
 "We walked throughe the pastures as men without feare." 
 
 The ballad represents him as lamenting that he should have 
 drawn his poor friend Tichborne into the conspiracy (p. 21) : 
 
 " But 0, Tuohborne, Tucbborne ! thou makest me full woe ! 
 For 1 was the §rste that allurde thee to the same, 
 Thio witts beinge yonge, likewaye I did frame ; 
 Thou beinge well Inclinde, throughe me didst consente 
 To conceale the thinge that made vs all repente." 
 
 Williams's poem has been previously printed in the Beliquarij. 
 
 An interesting ballad on the subject of Babington's Conspiracy 
 is published by Mr. Payne Collier in his Book of Eoxburghe 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXV 
 
 Ballads (1847), by Thomas Nelson, from whicli we extract the 
 
 following lines : — > 
 
 " This proude and haughtie Babington, in hope to gainereno-wne, 
 Did stirre up many wilfull men, in many a shire and towne, 
 To ayde him in this devilish act, and for to take in hand 
 The spoyle of our renowmed Prince, and people of this land, 
 Who did conclude with hloudie blade a slaughter to commit 
 Upon her Counsell, as they should within Star Chamber sit, 
 Which is a place whereas the Lords, and those of that degree, 
 Yeelde justice unto every man that crave it on his knee." 
 
 Compare also — 
 
 "And Babington, that cursed wretch, what did bewitch thy minde ? 
 That to thy Prince and country deere thou shouldst be so vnkinde ? 
 Thou hopedst (belike) for better hap than euer traitor had, 
 But now thou hast thy due desert, which maks our harts ful glad." 
 
 — " A Dutiful Invective Against the moste heynous Treasons of 
 Ballard and Bahington : with other their adherents, latelie exe- 
 cuted. G. W. Kempe, 1587." 
 
 Mr. Cooper also cites a ballad by Thomas Deloney, edited by 
 Mr. J. P. Collier, for the Percy Society, in 1840 (Old Ballads, 
 p. 104). 
 
 The lines on Babington are : 
 
 "Next Babington, that caitiffe vilde, 
 Was hanged for his bier ; 
 His carcase likewise quartered. 
 And hart cast in the fire." 
 
 And of those executed on the 21st, he makes Donne and Jones 
 
 both complain of Babington. 
 
 " The first of them was Salsburie, 
 And next to him was Duu, 
 Who did complaine most earnestly 
 Of proud yong Babington. 
 
 " Both Lords and Knights of bye renowne 
 He ment for to displace, 
 And likewise all the towers and townes 
 And cities for to raze : 
 
 " So likewise lones did much complaine 
 Of his detested pride, 
 And shewed how lewdly he did live 
 Before the time he died." 
 III. C 
 
XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Eichard Jones had been licensed on the 27th August to print 
 a Ballad authorized by the Archbishop of Canterbury, "beinge 
 a joy full songe made by a citizen of London in the behalfe of 
 all Her Ma"== subjectes touchinge the loye for the taking of the 
 Traytors." — Eegisters of the Stationers' Company, vol. ii. p. 214, 
 but no copy is known to be extant. 
 
 The Gunpowdbe Plot. 
 
 It is well known that the iJoman Catholics, who had undergone 
 many cruel persecutions during the reign of Elizabeth, looked 
 forward with hope to her successor ; but James, underneath his 
 preposterous pedantry and coarse buffooneries, concealed no little 
 astuteness and all the mendacity of a true Stuart. Before his 
 accession Percy, who afterwards figured in the Gunpowder Plot, 
 ■was sent by the English Catholics to ascertain what kind of 
 treatment he proposed to extend to them, and received assurances 
 from James that he would tolerate the Mass, "albeit in a comer." 
 Hopes also had been built on the fact that the mother of the new 
 sovereign had been so conspicuous in her adherence to the old 
 ■worship." 
 
 All these expectations were, however, doomed to be dashed to 
 the ground. The inclinations of the new King were clearly 
 shown in his treatment of a Mr. Pound, of Cheshire, who, having 
 ventured to petition against the persecutions to which his co- 
 religionists were subjected, was summoned before the Star 
 Chamber, imprisoned in the Fleet, and fined £1000. A statute 
 was also passed in 1604, requiring Jesuits and Seminary priests 
 to quit the realm by a certain day. 
 
 The persecutions undergone by Sir Thomas Tresham, the father 
 of Francis Tresham, one of the conspirators, will bo mentioned 
 
 ' Throughout this notice I have made considerahle use of the interesting facts 
 accumulated hy Mr. Jardine in the account given in his Criminal Trials. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXVU 
 
 afterwards. Edward Eookwood, cousin of Ambrose, also impli- 
 cated, of Euston Hall, in Suffolk, was committed to prison for 
 " obstinate papistry," and after being reduced to beggary died in 
 gaol. In the parish register of St. James, at Bury St. Edmunds, 
 we have the following curt and melancholy entry : " Mr. Eook- 
 wood, from the jail, buried June 4th, 1598." The troops of 
 menial lords and parasitic beggars which had accompanied James 
 from Scotland were deeply interested in discovering any offend- 
 ing Eomanists, and acquiring their forfeited estates. 
 
 Finding, therefore, their condition rapidly becoming worse, the 
 recusants, as they were called, formed the desperate plot which 
 has become so famous in English history, but is not without its 
 parallel in the annals of other countries, instances having oc- 
 curred at Stockholm, Liibeok, and Antwerp.* The original 
 conspirators — seven in number — were all, as Fawkes said subse- 
 quently, "gentlemen of name and blood; and not any were 
 employed in or about this action (no, not so much as in digging 
 and in mining) that was not a gentleman." The chief contriver 
 was Catesby, a man of ancient family long settled at Ashby St. 
 Ledgers, in Northamptonshire, and a descendant of the favourite 
 of Eichard III., who fell with his master at Bosworth. There 
 in the quiet village church may be seen the graves and monu- 
 mental brasses of many of the Catesbys, but not of him who 
 was destined to throw so dark a shade over the family name for 
 all time. The old seat — or what remains of it — ^has long since 
 passed into the hands of strangers ; but the villagers still aifect 
 to show the room in which the conspiracy is alleged to have 
 been concocted, grey with age and haunted with the traditions 
 of a crime which has taken so deep a hold of the popular mind.'' 
 
 1 It is probable also tbat tbe fate of Darnley may have given them a suggestion. 
 
 ' A history of the Catesby family will be found in Baker's " ^Northamptonshire" 
 — a very valuable work of its kind. He traces them back to Eandle, Earl of 
 Chester, temp. Heniy I. and Stephen. The manor of Ashby St. Ledgers passed 
 by marriage to John Catesby, of Ladbrook, in 'Warwickshire, in 1374, and his 
 descendant was the Sir William Catesby of Eichard the Third's time— the "cat" 
 of the doggrel verse, which cost its fabricator his head. His brass may be seen 
 
 c2 
 
XXVUl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Catesby gained over Winter, a gentleman of Worcestersliire, who 
 tad been long a soldier in the Low Countries, and Winter 
 initiated Pawkes, son of Edward Fawkes, a notary of York. 
 This tremendous fanatic, who has long become the conventional 
 stage-ruflSan of the whole piece, seems to have been born a 
 Protestant; but his father died in 1578, when he was yet a child, 
 leaving a large family, and his mother, Edith Fawkes, after a 
 widowhood of three years, married one Denis Baynbridge, 
 a Papist, embracing his religion, in which she also caused her 
 children to be educated. Thus young Gruy grew up a confirmed 
 Roman Catholic. Inheriting but a small proj)erty from his 
 father, he soon dissipated it, and turned his attention to the great 
 struggle then going on between Spain and the revolted Nether- 
 lands. As a soldier of fortune, he took service under the Arch- 
 duke Albert, and, among other achievements, was present at the 
 taking of Calais by the Archduke in 1598. He is described 
 by Father Greenway as a man of great piety, of exemplary 
 temperance, of mild and cheerful demeanour, an enemy of broils 
 and disputes, a faithful friend, and remarkable for his scrupulous 
 observance of all religious duties. He also seems to have been 
 very popular among his co-religionists, for we are told by the 
 same authority that his company was much sought by all those 
 in the Archduke's camp who were most distinguished for nobUity 
 and virtue. The desperate fanaticism of the man may be plainly 
 seen in his invariably choosing the most perilous posts, and 'the 
 
 in Ashby Cliutch. His son, George Catesby, in 1425, obtained a reversal of his 
 father's attainder and the restitution of his lands. Sir William Catesby, a great- 
 grandson of this George, was on the 15th Nov. 1581, cited before the Court of 
 Star Chamber, with Lord Vaux, of Harrowden, and Sir Thomas Tresham, as 
 elsewhere mentioned. Among the Ilarleian MSS. is a detailed account of this 
 trial, supposed to be drawn up by Sir Thomas Tresham himself. Robert Catesby, 
 son of Sir 'William, was the projector of the Gunpowder Plot. I have twice 
 visited this interesting place, under the guidance of a lady fully aware of the 
 glories of her native county, both historical and intellectual — of Naseby, Ashby, 
 Eushton, Fotheringiiy, and other localities, — and last, but by no moans least, of 
 "glorious John," whose name seems to close the roll of Northampton celebrities 
 as with a diapason. 
 
INTEOUUCTION. XXIX 
 
 almost ferocious hatred he exhibited to Protestantism. When 
 dragged, smeared with powder and coal-dust, into the presence 
 of James, his manner was unabashed and insolent. "He is no 
 more dismayed," wrote Cecil, "than if he were taken for a 
 poor robbery on the highway." His answer to the King is 
 too well known to need quoting here. The latter, with his own 
 hand, carefully traced out the gradual degrees of torture to 
 which he was to be subjected, as he had done in the case of the 
 unfortunate Scotch quack, Cunningham.' We can picture to our- 
 selves how efficacious the royal recipe must have been, by the 
 feeble disjointed signature of the miserable patient. 
 
 In a lonely field near St. Clement's Inn, Catesby first revealed 
 under an oath of seoresy his desperate plot. An additional 
 oath was afterwards administered to all the conspirators by a 
 Jesuit missionary, Father Gerard, who was perhaps hardly fully 
 aware of what they purposed. They were soon afterwards joined 
 by Winter's brother, the two Wrights, Sir Everard Digby, and 
 others, and lastly by one Francis Tresham, the son of Sir Thomas 
 Tresham, of an old Northamptonshire family at Eushton, who 
 had been frequently in trouble for harbouring recusants, and had 
 been cited on the 15th of November, 1581, before the Star 
 Chamber, with Lord Vaux, of Harrowden, for sheltering Jesuits 
 in his house, and being present at the celebration of mass. 
 
 The circumstances of their obtaining an unoccupied building 
 next to the Parliament House : then subsequently finding that 
 they could hire a cellar immediately under it : and the arrest of 
 Fawkes in consequence of the mysterious letter which had been 
 received by Lord Mounteagle : are all well-known matters of 
 history. On the subject of this letter — of which Williams 
 speaks (p. 50) — 
 
 " One small letter hatlie barde this strife" 
 
 1 " Ye maye thinlce of this, for it is like to be the kboure of such a desperate 
 fellow as this is ; if he will not other wayes oonfesse, the gentler tortoura are to be 
 first usid unto him, et sic per gradus ad ima tendilur; and so God speede youre 
 goode worke. — James E." 
 
XXX INTEODUCTION. 
 
 — there remains still great obscurity. The probability is that 
 Tresham, of whose fidelity there had been doubts from the first, 
 had long before revealed the conspiracy, which was allowed to 
 proceed till it had become fairly ripened. The letter was then 
 written, merely as a blind, and an opportunity was given the 
 British Solomon of making an attitude out of his supposed 
 sagacity. It is not a little curious that Lord Mounteagle 
 himself was one of the persons accused of complicity by 
 Winter in his examination before the Council, and in a State 
 Paper still extant, his name can be read as that of a person 
 implicated, although considerable pains have been taken to 
 obliterate it. It had been arranged that Fawkes was to fire 
 the mine, and as quickly as he could after the catastrophe 
 embark on board a vessel for Flanders. Meanwhile Sir Everard 
 Digby — a hot-headed young man of twenty-four, who had made 
 lavish promises of money to assist the conspiracy — was to 
 assemble a number of Eoman Catholic gentlemen at Dunchurch, 
 as if to hunt on Dunsmoor Heath; and as soon as intelligence 
 arrived that King James and his ministers had been blown to 
 the four winds, they were to send a party to seize the Princess 
 Elizabeth. She was at once to be proclaimed Queen, with a 
 regent during her minority, if the Prince of Wales or Duke of 
 York, afterwards Charles I., did not fall into their clutches. 
 Many attempts had been previously made by Tresham to induce 
 Catesby to abandon the plot, and leave the country. The con- 
 spirators soon discovered that the letter had been shown to the 
 King, but still followed up their plans with the wildest impetu- 
 osity, even though the cellar was'visited as if by accident by the 
 Lord Chamberlain and Lord Mounteagle. They saw Fawkes 
 keeping guard, and a great store of coals and wood heaped up. 
 Making a few casual remarks, and noting the ferocious appear- 
 ance of the man whom they found in the vault, they afterwards 
 retired. Fawkes was not without suspicions of this visit, but 
 still clung to his perilous position, having, as he declared, made 
 up his mind to blow the whole place up on the faintest signal 
 
\ 
 
 INTRODUCTIOJf. XXXi 
 
 of alarm. About midnight, however, on the eve of the 5th of 
 November, Sir Thomas Knevett, a magistrate, with a party of 
 soldiers, surrounded the vault. Pawkes was arrested instanta- 
 neously, before he could execute his desperate plan. He was 
 booted and dressed for a journey. A lantern was discovered 
 in. the corner, which is now preserved among the curiosities of 
 the Bodleian Library. Everywhere were to be found the im- 
 plements of combustion; among others, thirty-six barrels of 
 gunpowder in casks, concealed under billets of wood. The 
 conspirator did not disguise his attempt. He only remarked 
 cooUy to Sir Thomas, that if he had had a chance he would have 
 blown him up together with all the premises. The discovery of 
 the plot threw all the conspirators into the greatest consternation. 
 Five of them, including Catesby himself, rode post haste to Ashby. 
 Percy and John Wright even cast off their cloaks and threw them 
 into the hedge, to increase their speed. As soon as the direct 
 objects of the conspirators became known, many of the Eoman 
 Catholic gentlemen deserted the cause. Being totly pursued by 
 the sheriff of Worcestershire and the posse comitatus of the county, 
 the conspirators resolved to make a last stand at Holbeach. Here 
 an engagement took place with the authorities. Thomas Winter 
 was hit in the arm by a cross-bow, and disabled. Two more shots 
 mortally wounded both the Wrights ; and Catesby and Percy, stand- 
 ing back to back, were pierced by two bullets from one musket, 
 belonging to John Streete, one of the sheriff's men, who in con- 
 sequence had a pension given him. Catesby feebly crawled to 
 one of the sacred images in the house, clasped it, and instantly 
 expired. Percy died of his wounds on the following day. 
 
 Sir Everard Digby was soon after overtaken near Dudley, and 
 captured ; and Eobert Winter and Stephen Littleton were taken 
 in concealment at Hagley, after having endured many privations, 
 being for some time hidden in a barley-mow. 
 
 Tresham was not arrested till the 12th of November. His 
 connexion with the plot has always been a mystery, which will 
 never perhaps be satisfactorily cleared up. Any disagreeable 
 
XXXll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 revelations whioh he may have made were effectually checked by 
 the silence of the grave. He was found dead in the Tower on 
 the 23rd of December. The account of his end is thus given 
 by Sir William Waad, the Lieutenant, in a letter to the Earl of 
 Salisbury : " He died this night, about two of the o'clock after 
 midnight, with very great pain ; for though his spirits were 
 much spent and his body dead, he lay above two hours in 
 departing." There seems, however, some reason to doubt 
 whether after all this unhappy man met with a violent end. It 
 is certain that his wife and servant were constantly with him. 
 It must, however, have been important to many that he especi- 
 ally should be removed. 
 
 I have already alluded to the tortures which Fawkes had under- 
 gone by the direct recommendation of James himself, although 
 there is very little doubt that the practice was a complete 
 infringement of the law. It only remains to allude briefly to the 
 fate of the prisoners. Some of the more fortunate had died 
 sword in hand, fighting with the ferocity of madmen. Eight 
 were doomed to perish under the knife of the executioner, with 
 all the concomitant horrors which then rendered agonizing the 
 punishment of treason. Sir Everard Digby, Eobert Winter, 
 John Grant, and Thomas Bates — the latter only engaged in the 
 conspiracy in a menial capacity — were executed on a scaffold 
 erected at the western end of St. Paul's Churchyard. The un- 
 happy Sir Everard met his fate with firmness, but the deadly 
 pallor of his face did not escape the notice of the bystanders. 
 At the conclusion of his trial he had told his judges that if he 
 could carry their forgiveness with him to the gallows, he should 
 be able to meet his terrible fate more cheerfully. On the follow- 
 ing day, being Friday, Thomas Winter, Ambrose Eookwood, 
 Eobert Eeyes, and Guy or Guido Fawkes, underwent the same 
 fate on a scaffold over against the Parliament House. Nothing, 
 however, could break the iron spirit of Fawkes. He was 
 executed last of all — probably last by a refinement of cruelty, 
 that he might, to use the words of the French Eevolutionists, 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXXUl 
 
 drink long of death. He was so weak with torture and illness 
 that he could hardly walk up the steps of the scaffold. There 
 he muttered a few words, crossed himself, and flung himself 
 defiantly from the ladder.^ 
 
 Thus ended this terrible conspiracy, which sent a thrill of 
 horror throughout the whole country, and is thus alluded to in 
 a quaint treatise published in 1606, entitled "A comparative 
 Discourse of the Bodies natural and politique." " The verie re- 
 lating or mentioning thereof dawnteth my hart with horror, 
 even shaking the verie pen in my hand, whilst I think what 
 a shake, what a blast, or what a storme (as they termed it), they 
 menfc so suddenly to have raised for the blowing up, shivering 
 into pieces, and whirling about of those honourable, anointed 
 and sacred bodies, which the Lord would not have to be so much 
 as touched."'' 
 
 Oldcorne and Garnett, — the superior of the order of the Jesuits, 
 then recently introduced into England, — who were supposed 
 to be deeply implicated in the conspiracy, were captured at 
 Hendlip Hall, near Worcester, a quaint mansion, full of 
 
 " Eich windows that exclude the light, 
 And passages that lead to nothing," 
 
 — which, with its many nooks and secret chambers, seemed, it 
 has been said, to have been constructed to harbour recusants. 
 It required many days to discover their actual lurking place, as 
 
 1 For an account of the conduct of Fawkes, see a pamphlet entitled, " Gun- 
 powder Plot : Arraingement and Execution of the late Traytors, the 27th 
 January last past." This exceedingly rare pr&duction is quoted in Notes and 
 Queries, 5th series, ii. p. 361 : " Last of all came the great Devil of all, Fawkes, 
 alias Johnson, who should have put fire to the powder. His body being weak 
 with torture and sickness, he was scarce able to go up the ladder, but with much 
 ado, by the help of the hangman, went high enough to break his neck with the 
 fall : who made no long speech, but, after a sort, seeming to be sorry for his 
 offence, asked a kind of forgiyeness of the King^ and the State for his bloody 
 intent, 'and with his crosses and idle ceremonies, made his end upon the gallows 
 and the block, to the great joy of the beholders, that the land was ended of so 
 wicked a villany." 
 
 ' Quoted by Jardine, "Criminal Trials." 
 
XXXIV ■ INTRODUCTION. 
 
 they had been concealed in a curious recess, the exterior of which 
 was made to resemble part of a chimney. Here they had been 
 fed for some time by means of soup and otlier liquids ad- 
 ministered through a quill. Owen, the servant of Garnett, who 
 was committed to prison with him, having already undergone 
 the torture, and expecting forthwith to undergo it again, ripped 
 himself Up with a small dinner-knife allowed him for his meat. 
 
 The character of Garnett has been drawn very severely by Mr. 
 Hepworth Dixon in his amusing book, " Her Majesty's Tower." 
 He accuses the Jesuits of drunkenness and loose living, but it 
 appears difScult as we rake among these popular scandals to get 
 at the exact truth. There is certainly no direct evidence on 
 the point, nor are we sure of any safe inferences from the fact 
 that, as a Jesuit, his life was " a daily lie," as the author terms 
 it. He was brought before Goke, who exhibited the usual spectacle 
 of fulsome adulation of James and childish pedantry. He again 
 asserted that the King in the whole matter of the Gunpowder 
 Plot had been directed by a miracle. " God put it into His 
 Majesty's head to prorogue the Parliament ; and, further, to open 
 and enlighten his understanding out of a mystical and dark letter, 
 like an angel of God, to point to the cellar and command that 
 it be searched ; so that it was discovered thus miraculously but 
 even a few hours before the design should have been executed." 
 The insufferable pedant then wound up with a series of puns, 
 ingenious alliterations, and all the euphuistic arts of which he 
 was so great a master. 
 
 Nothing, however, could be proved against the prisoner, except 
 that he had been guilty of misprision of treason, i.e. had not 
 revealed the conspiracy when it had been communicated to him 
 in confession. So brutaUy did Coke interrupt the unhappy man, 
 that James, who was himself a witness of the trial, declared that 
 the Jesuit had not had fair play. He was, however, found guilty ; 
 but so ill-satisiied was the court with the evidence against him, 
 that a trap was laid to draw from his own mouth some admissions 
 which would be sufficient to condemn him. Garnett and Old- 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXXV 
 
 come were allowed to associate in prison ; and a certain Forsett, 
 and Lockerson, Lord Salisbury's secretary, were placed in ambush 
 to hear their conversation. An account of this was published 
 in a curious tract, called, "The Interlocution between Garnet and 
 HaU, the Jesuit, in prison, overheard by two worthy Gentlemen 
 that were in insidiis." ' It was chiefly on the evidence of these 
 spies that the unfortunate Jesuit was led to the scaffold. The 
 1st of May had been originally fixed for his execution. "It 
 was looked yesterday," says Sir D. Carleton, in a letter in the 
 State Taper Office, dated 2nd of May, 1606, " that Garnet should 
 have come a-maying to the gallows, which was set up for him 
 in St. Paul's Churchyard on Wednesday, but upon better advice 
 his execution is put off till to-morrow, for fear of disorder among 
 prentices and others in a day of such misrule. The news of 
 his death was sent to him upon Monday by Dr. Abbott, which 
 he could hardly be persuaded to believe, having conceived great 
 hope of grace by some good words and promises he said were 
 made him, and by the Spanish ambassador's mediation, who 
 he thought would have spoken to the King for him." On 
 the 3rd of May, however, Garnett was drawn on a hurdle 
 to the place of execution. By the express command of the 
 King he remained hanging on the gallows till quite dead. 
 Many miracles were reported to have occurred at his death. At 
 Hendlip, where he was apprehended, an entirely new species 
 of grass grew up, and was neither trodden by passengers nor 
 nibbled by cattle. A spring of oil burst out on the place of 
 his execution. An ear of straw, which had been put in a basket 
 with the Jesuit's mangled and bleeding quarters, was found to 
 have his likeness upon it, and became an object of Roman 
 Catholic veneration. 
 
 The effect of the Gunpowder Plot upon the position of 
 the recusants in England may be easily imagined. In the 
 next Parliament that met (Jan. 21, 1606), an Act was passed 
 
 1 Quoted by Jardine, " Criminal Trials." 
 
XXXVl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 requiring thein to take the sacrament once a year at least; 
 their absence from churcli was punishable by heavy fines; an 
 oath' of allegiance, renouncing the Pope's authority in the most 
 offensive terms, was imposed ; persons harbouring recusants, or 
 keeping servants who did not attend church, were to forfeit 
 £10 per month. Another statute banished all recusants from 
 court, afid declared them incapable of holding any public office — 
 of being executors, or guardians, or practising any of the liberal 
 professions. 
 
 Such was the condition of the Eoman Catholics in the reign 
 of James I., and in this state they remained till his successor, 
 wanting money and afraid to call a parliament, was willing to 
 allow them to compound for their recusancy. 
 
 It remains for me in conclusion to say a few words about 
 Williams's ballad. I am afraid it cannot be asserted either to 
 possess much literary merit or to furnish us with any new and 
 curious facts. In the true spirit of the age, with its puns and 
 anagrams, he treats us to a variety of quibbles on the names of 
 the conspirators, 
 
 " Bates might in this poynte haue bated an ace." (p. 46.) 
 " Neite, Catesbye : thou didst playe the wilye catt." (p. 44.) 
 
 He tells us that when Fawkes — or Guide Vaux, as he calls 
 him — was apprehended, many reliques were found upon him. 
 
 " And when hee was tane, the rellicks weare founde, 
 As a hayrie shiirte, with other popishe trashe." (p. 49.) 
 
 His loyalty is of an oppressive kind, and such as would satisfy 
 
 the requirements of the most enthusiastic gold-stick. He laments 
 
 that the "Lord's anointed" was so near being removed from the 
 
 earth ; — 
 
 " For greate is the maiestie of Eoiall kinges, 
 that here vppon earthe gods vicegerents bee ! 
 There lookes to trecherye are fearful! stinges ; 
 There eyes, like Argus, to beholde and see, 
 even to there myndes that good subieots bee. 
 From those that soke maiestie to betraye, 
 Hpo treason can fynde, and the same bewraye." (p. 65.) 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXXVll 
 
 He also re-echoes the tedious commonplaces ahout the discovery 
 of the letter by the British Solomon. We must remember, however, 
 that Williams, — a fact which Mr. Furnivall has also noticed, — in 
 these grovelling adulations, was sinning in excellent company. 
 There is something very choice about the following anecdote 
 related in the Life of Waller : " That Parliament^ being some time 
 after dissolved, on the day; of its dissolution, he (Waller), out 
 of curiosity or respect, went to see the King at dinner, with 
 whom were Dr. Andrews, Bishop of Winchester, and Dr. Neal, 
 Bishop of Durham, standing behind His Majesty's Chair. There 
 happened something very extraordinary in the Conversation those 
 -Prelates had with the -King, on which Mr. Waller did often 
 reflect. His Majesty asked the Bishops, 'My Lords, cannot I 
 take my subjects' money when I want it, without all this 
 formality in Parliament ? ' The Bishop of Durham readily 
 answered, ' God forbid. Sir, but you should, you are the breath 
 of our nostrils.' Whereupon the King turned, and said to the 
 Bishop of Winchester, ' Well, my Lord, what say you ? ' ' Sir,' 
 replied the Bishop, ' I have no skill to judge of parliamentary 
 cases.' The King answered, ' No Put-ofis, my Lord, answer me 
 presently.' ' Then, Sir,' said he, ' I think it's lawful for you to 
 take my Brother Neal's money, for he offers it.' " 
 
 Williams had previously tried to force himself upon royal 
 notice : "And one of them I Did presente to your famouse Sonne, 
 Prince Henrie, when your maiestie was in your progresse in 
 Nottingham-shere, at the Howse of one Sir John Byron, a 
 knight, that Dwelleth in the forrest of mansfilde. But I never 
 harde anye awnswer of it." (p. 39.) This occurrence must have 
 taken place either in 1612 or in 1614 — probably the former year. 
 Nicholls, in his " Progresses, etc., of James the First " (vol. ii. 
 pp. 460, 461) tells us, "On the 14th of August, [1612], the 
 King left Eufford, but not Shefwood Forest. He took up his 
 lodging at Sir John Byron's, Newstead Abbey, about ten miles 
 
 ' The last Parliament of Jamea I. See " Life of Waller," p. v. (ed. 1722). 
 
XXXVlll , INTRODUCTION. 
 
 distant across the Forest, and for three days longer explored 
 the haunts of Eobin Hood and his merry men all." This Sir 
 John Byron — the ancestor of the poet, who has made the 
 name for ever celebrated — entertained James in one of his 
 progresses at Newstead Abbey. He had previously been 
 knighted at Worksop, in 1603, when he met the King. At 
 this time the mansion was celebrated for its splendour, 
 and the park for its rural beauties ; but the latter was 
 afterwards divided into farms, and the whole property had 
 suffered great deterioration before it came into the hands of the 
 noble poet. The estate, which originally belonged to some 
 Black Canons, was granted at the Dissolution of the Abbeys to 
 the Sir John Byron then living, who was the Lieutenant of 
 Sherwood Forest. Since the poet's time it has changed hands 
 more than once. It has formed the subject of one of the most 
 delightful papers of Washington Irving.^ 
 
 As regards Eichard Williams, the author of the first three poems, 
 no information which can be relied upon seems forthcoming. 
 The name, to begin with, is a very common one. There are no 
 published productions by an author so styled in any catalogues 
 of seventeenth century literature. In the preface to "The 
 Complaynte of Anthonye Babington " he speaks of hia "old 
 eyes," and tells us that the pieces on Babington and the 
 Gunpowder Plot were written just after the occurrence of these 
 events. A writer in the Athenoeum (May 22, 1869) doubts 
 these two last statements, and considers that the poem on Essex 
 was written after the arrival of James I. in London. This 
 opinion seems especially borne out by the 54th and 65th verses : 
 
 ' A good description of Sherwood Forest, printed by Major Eooke for private 
 circulation, was copied in Harrod's "History of Mansfield," pp. 18 et seq. At 
 the time of King James's visit it had been recently surveyed; and then con- 
 tained, — arable land, 44,839 acres ; woods, 9,486 ; waste, 35,080 ; Clipstone 
 Park, 1,583 ; Beskwood Park, 3,672 ; Bulwell Park, 326 ; Nottingham Park, 
 129; total, 96,117 acres. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXXIX 
 
 " And daylie more his fame is raysde, 
 
 Synce our kinge came to swaye this lande. 
 
 Oure kinge dothe countenance his frends, 
 Suche as in life tyme helde hym dere ; 
 On them Eiche Honors daylie spends, 
 for love to them and this greate peere ; 
 His Sonne attendante on the prince, 
 Which envyes spite maye well convyuce." (pp. 3i, 34.) 
 
 In the Calendar of State Papers for reigns of Elizabeth and 
 James I. we find here and there a Eichard Williams, but no 
 one that can be satisfactorily identified with our author. There 
 is a man of the name who appears to have acted as a kind of 
 general agent and steward to Lord Cobham ; but since that noble- 
 man was one of the most inveterate enemies of Essex, it is 
 hardly probable that a retainer would be found singing the 
 praises of the ruined Earl. 
 
 In 1624: (March 30) we find a grant to Eioh. Williams of a 
 lease of lands in the counties of York, Northumberland, Cumber- 
 land, Huntingdon, and Cambridge, value £49 16s. lOd., at re- 
 quest of Eobert May of the bedchamber, and in consideration of 
 his faithful service. Perhaps this may be the man, and if so, it 
 is probable that it is all we shall ever discover concerning him. 
 At such a period of history men of humble station and poor 
 ability followed the fate of the common herd of humanity : they 
 " died and made no sign." 
 
 In 1627 (reign of Charles I.) a Eichard Williams is recorded 
 as presenting a petition for increase of pay. Perhaps this may 
 have been our author, grown grey in service about the Court. 
 
 W. E. MOKFILL. 
 
[Armdel MS. 418, leaf 1.] 
 
 a ^oore JWans pittance* 
 
 The booke to Youn Maiestie. 
 
 Althoughe I bee not cladd in golde, 
 Nor withe a cover gorgeouse fyne, 
 Perhaps in mee you maye beholde 
 Thinges that to vertue doe Incline, 
 Passinge some glittringe giftes that shyne. 
 
 If mee to reade youle take the payne, 
 Yowr grace — I hope — shall reape the gayne. 
 
 ui. 
 
This booke contaynes three severall suTaiects, as appeers 
 in my peticion to your Eoiall maiestie. 
 
 [leaf 2.] 
 
 A POOEE MANS PITTANCE, 
 
 Contayninge three severall subiects: — 
 
 1. The firste, the fall and complaynte of Anthonie 
 Babington, whoe, with, others, weare executed 
 for highe treason in the feildes nere lyncolns 
 Inne, in the yeare of owr lorde .... 1586 
 
 2. The seconde contaynes the life and Deathe of 
 Eoberte, lorde Deverox, Earle of Essex, whoe 
 was beheaded in the towre of london on ash- 
 wensdaye mornynge. Anno 1601 
 
 3. The laste. Intituled "acclamatio patrie," con- 
 tayninge the horrib[l]e treason that weare pre- 
 tended agaynste youv Ma^Vstie, to be donne on 
 the parliament howse The seconde yeare of 
 youv Maiestis Raygne [1604] 
 
[leafs.] To the kinges moste Excellent Maiestie, 
 w^th all other kinglie Titells and Dignities 
 what soever, To whome jour poore humble 
 subiecte, Eicharde Williams, wisheth heal the, 
 longe life, and Manye happie years to Eaygne 
 over vs, to the glorye of god, and yoitr ma- 
 iesties comforte. 
 
 My Breade and Eoiall Soveraygne, 
 
 This Anthonie Babington was borne at a mansion 
 howse'of his fathers, called Dethicke, in the Countie 
 of Darbye, in the parrishe of Crietche ; whose father 
 was a man of good accompte, and lived well and 
 orderlie in his contrie, kepte a good howse, and re- 
 leived the poore ; But he was Inclined to papistrie, 
 as the tymes then requyred; whoe had a brother 
 that was a Doctor of Divinitie in Queue Maryes 
 dayes, of whome some mention is made in this storye. 
 This Anthonye the Sonne was a yonge man, [leaf 3, i?ack.] 
 well featured, and of good proportion in all the lynia- 
 ments of his bodie ; of a moste pregnante fyne witt, 
 and greate capacitie; had a reatchinge head, and a 
 moste prowde aspiringe mynde; and by nature a 
 papiste, wh0re-in hee was borne and brought vpp; 
 where[as], if hee had bene trayned otherwise, he might 
 haue proved a good member of the co??imon wealthe, 
 where nowe hee became a reproche and scandall to 
 the same. 
 
 In whose course of life manye accidents hapned, 
 
 b2 
 
even from his birthe to his deathe, as appeares in 
 this his complaynte; wherein I haue followed the 
 methode of a booke Intituled " the mirror of maies- 
 trates'," wherein everye man semes to complayne of 
 his owne mysfortnnes : humblie besechinge yowr 
 royall maiestie to pardon all Defectes, aswell in my 
 writinge as ia the basenes of the verse. In the one, 
 1 haue donne aswell as my learninge did serve me ; 
 for the other, aswell as my olde eyes woulde permitt 
 mee, whiche I beseche jour roiall maiestie to cen- 
 sure^ withe clemencye, and I will trulie praye to the 
 almightie for the longe continuance of youre healthe 
 and happie estate, bothe to gods glorye and yowr 
 maiesties comforte, 
 
 Your poore Distressed subiecte, 
 Richarde Williams. 
 
 ' A MyrroTTe for Magistrates. Wterem may be seen by example of other, 
 ■with howe greuoua plages vices are punished: and howe frayle and vn- 
 stable worldly prosperitie is founde, even of those ■whom Fortime seemeth 
 most highly to fauour. Imprinted at London in Flete-strete nero to Saynct 
 Dunstones Church by Thomas Marshe. 1559, 4to, 81 leaves, black letter. 
 (Other editions in 1563, 1571, etc. etc.) — Sazlitt's Sand-Book, 
 
 2 judge, criticize; mo* blame. 
 
STije Complapte of ^ntfjonse Bal&instoiT, P«^f *•] 
 
 sometyme of lyncolnes Inne, Esquier, whoe, with, others, 
 weare executed for highe treason In the feildes nere 
 lyncolns Inne, the xix"' of September, Anno . . 1586 : 
 
 A Deeamb or Induction. 
 
 Late, wearied withe my daylie toyle, 
 
 to bedd my selfe I dreste. 
 Whereas^ a slomber caught mee sone, 
 
 yet coulde I take no reste ; 4 
 
 But faUinge in a fearfull dreame, 
 
 me thoaght there did appeare 
 One cladd in roabes more white then snowe, 
 
 whose face did shyne moste clere, 8 
 
 Whose gorgeouse garments weare bedeckt 
 
 withe moneths, dayes, and howres; 
 vppon his head hee likewise ware 
 
 a crowne of fragrante flowres. 13 
 
 Celestiall signes did hym attende, 
 
 and compaste hym Hke case^ ; 
 The mone and starrs attendante weare 
 
 vppon his princelie grace. 16 
 
 Whiche, when I veiwde with mortall eyes, 
 
 I freighted was withe feare ; 
 But hee, to comforte me, beganne, 
 
 and spake as you shall heare : — 20 
 
 " Williams ! shake of this sluggishe slepe ! 
 
 prepare to followe mee ; 
 ffor strange thinges I haue to reveale, 
 
 whiche I will showe to thee.'' 24 
 
 " soveraygne god, I thee bespeke, Peaf i, back.] 
 
 what god so ere thou bee, 
 Whiche doest not daigne in deitie* 
 
 to showe thie selfe to mee. 28 
 
 " If symple I maye bee so bolde, 
 
 of thee I fayne woulde knowe. 
 What god thou arte, what sacred wight, 
 
 to me declare and showe \" 32 
 
 ' "Wherein. ' likewise. ^ MS. dietie. 
 
The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington. 
 
 " I morplieus liigM, ruler of night, 
 
 thus poetts of mee doe fayne : 
 Arise/^ quothe hee, " and foUowe meo I 
 
 I bidd thee once agayne. 86 
 
 " Reiecte all care j caste of all feare ; 
 
 to ludd^s towne lie thee bringe. 
 That is renowned throughe the wordle^ ; 
 
 there shalte thou vewe a thinge." 40 
 
 Wherewith I rowsed vpp my selfe, 
 
 and quicklie was I dreste ; 
 And vncouthe wayes I followed hym, 
 
 and did but seldome reste. 4ii 
 
 At laste hee thus spake vnto mee, 
 
 thatte^ wearye shoulde appeare, 
 " Thie lorneye drawes vnto an ende, 
 
 wee shall anon bee there." 48 
 
 Thus as wee paste by dale and hill, 
 
 appeares vnto oure vewe — 
 Withe brave prospecte, — a cittie fayre, 
 
 whose cituation well I knewe. 52 
 
 So longe wee paste, till at the laste [leaf 5.] 
 
 to a famose bridge wee came. 
 Where olde Thameyse, with surges greate 
 
 still beateth on the same. 66 
 
 It was aboute the howres of twelue, 
 
 when chymes did swetelie ringe. 
 And nature then due reste did yeilde 
 
 to everye livinge thinge ; 60 
 
 And all was hushte in quyett sorte, 
 
 the Starrs did shyne moste clere. 
 When on a sodden (as mee thought,) 
 
 a voyce soundes in myne eare, 64 
 
 Wherewith I sore affrighted was, 
 
 my bodye gan with feare to quake ; 
 Morpheus than to comforte me began, 
 
 and theise wordes in effecte hee spake : 68 
 
 '' Shake of all tymrose feare !" quothe hee, 
 
 " amased so, whie doest thou stande ? 
 ffor this cause haue I brought thee here, 
 
 to take theise thinges in hande. 72 
 
 > world. = MS. thaote. 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington. 7 
 
 Caste vpp thie head, lifte vpp thyne eyes ! 
 
 what doest thou there beholde ?" 
 Where suche a spectaHe I did vewe, 
 
 as made my harte full colde. >jq 
 
 There might I perceive manye mens heddes 
 
 on toppes of poales to stande, 
 Whiche did to suche parsons belonge, 
 
 as weare traytors to this lande. 80 
 
 ffourtene of them above the reste [leaf 5, back.] 
 
 in a higher degree weare placeste,^ 
 Whiche morpheus sayde weare hedds of those 
 
 ther[e] executed laste. 84 
 
 And one of them in highest degree 
 
 Did stande in open vewe, 
 Where sounded suche a harrishe^ voice 
 
 as did my feares renewe : 88 
 
 " Good contrie man ! I doe thee praye, 
 
 vouchsafe some paynes to take ; 
 And thats the cause I haue sente for thee, 
 
 my tragedie to make. 92 
 
 " Thoughe thou symple and vnlearned bee, 
 
 doe not refuse this payne j 
 Wishe Gentelmen all, by me take heede, 
 
 so good will thou shalte gayne 96 
 
 " of all suche as good subiects bee : 
 
 for the reste, take thou no care ; 
 But penne my tragedie in suche sorte 
 
 as memory e shall to thee declare ; lOO 
 
 " And tell them, thoughe I weare no pere, 
 
 I presumed with the beste ; 
 Therefore as worthie to be harde 
 
 as anye of the reste. 104 
 
 "lacke cade, and lacke strawe, they bothe 
 
 haue tolde there ruthles tale ; 
 Cardinall wolsey and shores wife 
 
 Haue rewde there bitter bale ; 108 
 
 * Pronounce ^tosi; see p. 30, 1. 188, note (^), ^ harsh. 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye BaUngton. 
 
 " And latOj fayre rosamonde hatte complaynde, [leaf 6.] 
 
 that longe synce was forgott ; 
 Wberefore, to presse amongst the presse, 
 
 I truste twilbe my lott. 112 
 
 " My worshipfull frends, they still doe live 
 
 in credditt, love and fame : 
 The worse my happe, I shoulde begynne 
 
 my kynne or stocke to shame ! 116 
 
 " But thou, my frende, pleade thou my cause ! 
 
 at large, penne downe my case. 
 That I to all example mays bee, 
 
 that fall for wante of grace." 120 
 
 Whereto I fayne woulde haue replide, 
 
 m^yne Ignorance to excuse. 
 But morpheas wilde me scilence kepe, 
 
 no talke hee wishte me vse. 124 
 
 " Come on," quotha hee, " lett vs bee gone, 
 the tyme for anye man dothe not staye." 
 
 So in haste 1 wente, and home I came, 
 
 I knowe not well whiche waye ; 128 
 
 But at the laste, when I wakened was, 
 
 and sawe it was a dreame ; 
 " god \" quothe I, " no we comforte me ! 
 
 what maye this nights^ worke meane ?" 132 
 
 And sondrie cogitations in mased mynde [leaf 6, back.] 
 
 did daylie mee moleste, 
 A.nd till I had sett downe the same, 
 
 I never coulde take reste ; 136 
 
 Whiche, thoughe it bee but rudelie donne ; 
 
 yet take it in good parte, 
 Whiche presente the same to yowr highnes vewe 
 
 withe a frendlie willinge harte. 140 
 
 finis. 
 
 ' MS. mights. 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington, 
 
 rieaf 7.] 
 
 ANTHONIB BABINGTON HIS COMPLillZVT. 
 
 What will it avayle, on fortune to exclame, 
 
 when as due desarte is cheifest cause of all ? 
 my selfe, and none but my selfe^ lustlie can I blame. 
 That thus haue procured myne vntymelie fall, 144 
 
 and turned haue my honnye swet vnto bitter gall, 
 wherefore, good flTrende, take thie penne and write, 
 and in mournfull verse my Tragedie recite. 147 
 
 II. 
 
 Longe might I haue lived a contented happie state, 
 
 and haue borne a porte and countnance with the beste ; 
 If fortune shoulde me checke, I coulde her mate ; 
 Thus none, like me, more happie was and bleste, 151 
 
 Till that discontente procured myne vnreste. 
 
 And the pompe of pride so glared in myne eyen. 
 
 That I reiected vertue moste Devyne. 154 
 
 III. 
 
 But firste, I will tell thee myne estate and name, 
 and contrie soile where I was bredd and borne : 
 Anthonie Babington I hight ; of a worthie howse I came. 
 Till my mysdemeanors made me forlorne, 158 
 
 givinge cause to my foes to laughe me to skorne, 
 
 whoe haue stayned my state, and blemisht my name : 
 In clymbinge by follie, [I] haue falne to my shame. I6I 
 
 IV. 
 
 At Dethwicke in darbye-shere I was bothe borne and bredd, 
 
 my father was an Bsquier of good reputation, 
 A good howse hee kepte, a vertuose life hee ledd ; 
 
 my selfe, beinge a childe, was holde in estimation, i65 
 
 Bat havinge gott the rayne, I changed my facion ; 
 
 Then privatlie I sought myne owne will and pleasure, 
 livinge to my likinge, but never kepte a measure. ics 
 
10 The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington. 
 
 V. 
 
 Doctor Babington, myne Bame^, did pronosticate [leaf 7, back.] 
 
 that tarde was the happe whereto I was borne : 
 Hee sayde, that ' pride my glorye shoulde abate, 
 and destenye had decree'de I shoulde bee forlome / 172 
 
 Whose wordes my father then helde in scorne. 
 " trayn'e hym vpp well \" myne vnkell did saye, 
 " vnlesse^ hee repente the same another daye. 175 
 
 VI. 
 
 " Give hym not, brother, his libertie in youthe, 
 for then olde dayes hee never shall see ; 
 Hee is my nephewe, the more is my rewthe 
 to thincke of his happe and harde destinye ! 179 
 
 If skill beguyle me not, hanged hee shalbe." 
 This was the foresight of my fathers brother, 
 ffor whiche love of his hee was hated of my mother. 182 
 
 vxi. 
 
 I knowe not where^ hee spake by hassarde or skill, 
 
 for suche Divinations I doe not commende ; 
 yet his counsell was good, to flie future ill ; 
 for whoe-so in vertue there dayes doe not spende, I86 
 
 shalbe sure, with me, repente them in thende. 
 
 The proofs of myne vnkells worde I founde to trewe, 
 as by the sequell Hereafter you maye veiwe. 189 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Not longe after, my father resyned vpp his breathe, 
 
 and lefte my wofull mother with a greate charge, 
 Whiche proved for vs all to tymelie* a deathe, 
 ffor then, good gentelwoman, her purse ranne at large, 193 
 Havinge of debts and legacies greate somes to discharge. 
 But in the state of widowhode not longe shee tarried, 
 ffor with that good gentelmaS, Henrye foliambe she 
 married. - 196 
 
 ' A. Sax. c&m, an uncle. * lest. ^ whether. * early. 
 
The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington, 11 
 
 IX. 
 
 Whoe loved vs all tenderlie as wee had bene Ms ownej [leaf 8.] 
 
 and was verye careful! of oure education ; 
 Whose love to mee was diverse wayes showne, 
 and I of the same had daylie probation,^ 200 
 
 As by this maye appeare of whiche I make narration : 
 Withe his owne chayne of golde hee woulde me often 
 
 decke, 
 Whiche made me a prowde boye, to weare aboute my 
 necke. 203 
 
 As on a tyme this chayne aboute my necke I did weare, 
 
 and goinge to an orcharde some aples to gett, 
 Where clymbinge a highe tree, as one without feare, 
 the boughe then brake whereon my foote I sett, 207 
 
 and downwarde I slipt, but was caught in a nett ; 
 In the tree I was hanged faste by the chayne ; 
 So d'fesyre of my pride was cause of my payne. 210 
 
 XI. 
 
 But [I] was not suffred there longe to hange, 
 
 but was, nere strangled or I was taken downe, 
 fibr there I strugled with suche a deadlie pange, 
 my mother, shee freighted, and fell in a sowne,^ 214 
 
 and greife made my father likewise to frowne ; 
 But my revivinge there sorrowes over-caste ; 
 Then they reioycste, sayinge my destenye was paste. 217 
 
 XII. 
 
 Thus carelesse a tyme with them I liude at pleasure, 
 
 surfetted with selfwill and with fonde delite ; 
 I knewe no golden meane, nor never kepte a measure, 
 but like a kyndlie' beare gan tymelie to byte ; 221 
 
 Even then I harborde envye, and sucked despite. 
 And pride at that Instante tooke so dope a roote 
 That humillitie for ever was troden vnder foote. 224 
 
 ' proof. ' swoon. ' natural. 
 
12 The Complaynte of Anthony e BaUngton. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 In myne none-age I was when my father dyde. [leaf 8, back.] 
 phillip draycott of paynslie, hee did me obtayne, 
 Whoe had appoynted me his doughter for my bryde, 
 and in whose howse a space I did remayne : 228 
 
 There suckte I pleasure that proved to my payne. 
 There was I misled in papistrie my soule to wounde, 
 There was I corrupted, made rotten and vnsounde. 231 
 
 XIT. 
 
 There, even there, a while I spente my youthfull tyme ; 
 
 there was I lulled in securitie faste a-sleepe ; 
 The [r] e was I frollicke, there was I in my pryme. 
 In lollitie then I laught, but never thought to weepe, 233 
 my witts weare moste fyne, & conceits verye depe. 
 But oh, paynslie, paynslie, I maye thee curse ! 
 where nature made me ill, education made me worse ; 238 
 
 XV. 
 
 ffor by nature I was withe papistrie infected, 
 
 but might haue bene restrayned, had it pleased god. 
 My father and myne Bame, they weare suspected j 
 theye lived with there conscience, wherein I was odd, 242 
 Therefore was beaten with a more sharper rodd. 
 There conscience they kepte, & ruled it by reason, 
 livinge like subiects, and still detested treason. 245 
 
 XVI. 
 
 My fatherinlawe still ledd me to what I was Inclynd[e], 
 
 I meane, for my conscience, no farther hee woude deale ; 
 my mayntnance [was] suSiciant to contente my mynde, 
 so that all this while I tasted nought but weale, 240 
 
 but coulde not bee contente, wAich I muste nedes reveale ; 
 my fyne head was desyrouse to studye the lawe. 
 In attayninge whereof I proude^ my selfe a daw^. 232 
 
 XVII. 
 
 j\nd for that cause forthwith I to Ion don wente, [leaf 9.] 
 
 where in lyncolns Inne a student I became, 
 
 ' proved. * a foolish fellow. — Ames, 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington. 13 
 
 and there some parte of my flittinge tyme I spente ; 
 bat to bee a good lawier, my mynde woulde not frame; 256 
 I addicted was to pleasure, and given so to game ; 
 
 But to the Theatre and Ourtayne^ woulde often resorte, 
 where I mett companyons fittinge my disporte. 259 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Companyons, quothe you ? I had companyons in deede, 
 
 suche as in yoake with me weare well contente to drawe, 
 lyncked so in myscheife, wherein wee did exceede, 
 wee cared not for order, nor paste'' of reasons lawe ; 263 
 of god nor of good man wee stoode in litle awe ; 
 
 wee paste the b ounds of modestie, and lived without shame, 
 wee spotted our conscience, and spoiled ouv good name. 266 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Wee carde not for the churche; that place we not frequented; 
 
 the taverns weare better oure humors to fitt ; 
 The companye of dayntie dames wee cheiflie Invented,^ 
 withe whome in dalliance wee desyred ofte to sitt : 270 
 
 Theise weare the fruytes of ouv yonge hedds and witt. 
 Thus in lustie libertie I ledd a loose life, 
 and thoughe I weare married, I carde not for my wife. 273 
 
 XX. 
 
 Yetfc to the sermons wee woulde often resorte, 
 not in hope edification by them to obtayne. 
 But rather to leste, and make of them a sporte, 
 whiche nowe I feele, to my sorrowe, greife, and payne : 277 
 Theise bee the fruytes that sichophants doe gayne, 
 Cheiflie when theye mocke and skorne gods worde, 
 Disdayninge the servants and prophetts of the lorde. 280 
 
 * Cwrtain. A theatre ■which, appears to have stood in Moorfields, and to 
 have been celehrated for the performance of humorous and satirical pieces. 
 See Collier's Annals of the Stage, iii. 268, and the quotations in Narea. 
 
 2 Fass, to care for or regard : ' As for these silken-coaten slaves, I pass not,' 
 2 Hen. IV, iv. 2. ' Men do not passe for their sinnes, doe lightly regard 
 them.' Latimer, Ser. Ded. — Nares. 
 s Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent. Spencer, F. Q. i. iv. 15. 
 And vowed never to retume againe, 
 - Till him aUve or dead she did invent. 
 
 Ibid. III. v. 10.— Kares. 
 
14. The Complaynte of Anthony e habington. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Witli Oatholicks still conversante I coveted to be, [leaf 9, bact.] 
 that weare alwayes in hope, and looked for a daye, 
 Gapinge for a change wliick wee trusted to see. 
 Ambition so stonge me, my selfe I coulde not staye, 284 
 Whiche makes mee sighes to sighe well-a-waye ; 
 Then I had my will, and playde with pleasures ball, 
 Then I was alofte, and feared not this fall. 287 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Yett so covertlle all this tyme I did my selfe behave, 
 
 and so closelie wrought in subtell synons frame. 
 What so ere I thought, my selfe I sought to save, 
 livinge all this while without suspecte or blame ; 291 
 
 and more to wynne me credditt, a courtier I became. 
 Where the syrens songe so swetelie I did synge, 
 I never was suspected to worke suche a thinge. 294 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The nobles of the courte of me thought so well, 
 that often to there tables they woulde me Invite, 
 Where in gesture and talke I did the common sorte ex- 
 cell. 
 Thereby wynninge favor in my companye to delite ; 298 
 Whiche with a ludas kisse I sought to requyte. 
 As in sequell of my storye shall after appeare, 
 Whiche I shame to tell, it toucheth me so nere. soi 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 And daylie more and more my credditt did increase, 
 
 and so in like manner did pride stiU abounde ; 
 Beloved I was bothe of more and lesse. 
 when my Inwarde motions weare all vnsounde, 303 
 
 my parsonage was comelie which favor eache where foundo j 
 But pryde had so blynded me, I could not see 
 That with Icarus alofte I mynded was- to flee. 303 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington. 15 
 
 The grounde that I troade oiijiny feete couldenot holde, [leaf 10.] 
 
 nor I bee contente in a happie state to reste, 
 lyke Bayarde that blushed not, then was I more bolde 
 when Eancor Inwardlie still boyled in my breste, 312 
 
 That like an vnnaturall birde J filed my neste. 
 In parlinge with parasites that looked for a daye ; 
 By the counsell of Oaterpillers I wrought my decaye. 315 
 
 XXTI. 
 
 Then I beganne to prie in-to matters of the state ; 
 
 and with what I liked notj I secrett faulte did fynde j 
 Where I fawned openlie, I inwardlie did hatOj 
 and to my confederates woulde closelie breake my mynde^ 319 
 I meanOj to suche as to my lore weare InclyndOj 
 
 Betwene whome and me suche myscheife wee Invented, 
 That wee thought to haue made all Englande repented. 322 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Where-vppon in-to franca a lorney I did frame, 
 
 to parle with padgett, Morgan, and others of that crewe. 
 What wee had but decreede, they resolved on the same ; 
 Whose pretended purpose, at large when I knewe, 326 
 
 I willinglie consented too, — vfhich. makes me nowe to 
 rewe, — 
 and to sett the same forwarde, a soUemne oathe did 
 
 take. 
 o cursed conscience, that a traytor didst me make ! 329 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Then Into Englande I retornde agayne with spede, 
 and gott conferrence hereof with some of greate fame. 
 Manye weare the plotts whereon wee agreed, 
 and greate the attempts whereat we did ame, 333 
 
 wMch afterwarde proved cure ruynose shame ;■ 
 and aspiringe pride so fyred my harte, 
 I was contente to playe a traytors parte. 336 
 
16 The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington. 
 
 his artiekles of arraygnmente. [leaf 10, bad.] 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Tee, to bee a moste savage monster agaynste all kynde. 
 
 In sekiuge the deathe of my Quene, the lords anoynted j 
 Ambition so stonge me, that I was starke blynde 
 in pluckinge her downe that god had appoynted, 340 
 
 and the vnitie of the realms in sonder to haue ioynted. 
 To haue made kings and rulers at owr owne pleasure, 
 To haue exceeded in vyllanye without rule or measure. 343 
 
 XXX. 
 
 To haue made suche lawes as wee thought beste, 
 
 to haue turned the state quyte vpsyde downe. 
 The nobles to haue slayne, and clene dispossest, 
 and on a strangers hedd haue placed the crowne : 347 
 
 Herein wee weare resolute, but fortune did frowne : 
 
 no ! twas god woulde not suffer owr villanyes take 
 
 place, 
 But vnlookte for, revealde them, to our shamefull dis- 
 grace. 350 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 ffarther, owr Intente was to poyscn the ordinance of the 
 realme, 
 a moste haynouse matter as ever was Invented : 
 Whoe ever hathe harde of trecheries so extreame, 
 concluded, agreed vppon, and fuUye consented ? 354 
 
 an wofuU matter, of all to bee lamented ! 
 
 all courtroUs and records wee wente^ to haue raced, 
 and them to haue burned, spoyled and defaced. 357 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The fayre cittie of london wee also mente to rifell, 
 
 to haue robde the riche, and killed eke the poore y — 
 Theise thinges in effecte wee counted but a trifeU, — 
 In all places of the lande [to] haue sett an vprore, SGl 
 
 The wealthie to haue bereaude bothe of life & store ; 
 no state nor degree wee never mente to spare j 
 But if hee woulde resyste, deathe shoulde bee his share. 364 
 
 ' weened, thought, not went-in. 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye Babington. 17 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Theise weare ouv intents, witli misclieifs manye more, P^af 1 1.] 
 
 even confusion to the whole realme to haue brouglit. 
 
 Confederates wee had, and that no small store, 
 
 Whiche ruyne and destruction weare redie to haue wrought; 
 
 wee either mente to make or bringe all to nought ; 369 
 
 nought! yee, nought in deede! for nought weare ouv 
 
 happSj 
 ffor desperate myndes doe feare no after-clapps. 371 
 
 XXXIT, 
 
 So forwarde wee [we] are, that the verye daye was sett 
 to murther out good Quene that god had preserved : 
 Barnewell and savage shoulde haue donne the feate, 
 but Justice rewarded them as they well desarved, 375 
 
 beinge twoe monstrose traytors that from dutie swarved. 
 . The Daggs^ and all things weare redye preparde ; 
 But in the nett they layde, they them selves weare snarde. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 And ballarde that beaste, hee iato Englande was come, 370 
 
 a lesuite, a preeste, and a Semynarie vilde,'' 
 Hee brought with hym ouv absolution from roome, 
 promysinge good successe, — wherein he was beguylde, — 352 
 So that from ouv hartes all pittie hee exilde ;. 
 and still hee incoraged vs in myscheifs to proceede, 
 Bgginge vs forwarde, wherein there was no neede. 385 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 But god woulde not suffer vs so closelie to worke, 
 but that all OMr doyngs laye open in his sight, 
 revealinge those myscheifs that in owr hartes did lurke. 
 when wee suspected not, hee brought the same to light ; 389 
 Then muste wee hyde cmv hedds, or scape awaye by 
 flight; 
 But when wee had Incklinge ouv treasons weare de- 
 
 scryde, 
 Awaye, awaye in haste ! twas then no tyme to byde. 392 
 
 * Dag, a pistol. — Halliwell. ^ vile. 
 
 III. C 
 
18 The Complaynie of Anthonye Babington. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Then watche and wardewas made in everye coaste, [leaf 11, back] 
 
 then weare wee taken eache howre of the daye ; 
 My selfe was once taken : but whie shoulde I boaste 
 Howe that I made a scape^ and so gott awaye, 396 
 
 not knowinge where to goe, nor haue perfitt staye ? 
 But to harrowe-on-the-hill my selfe I convayde ; 
 There in Bellamyes howse a litle tyme I stayde. 399 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 But there was made for me suche previe watche & warde, 
 
 and the contrie so besett, I no where, coulde flie ; 
 all hope of my escape was vtterlie debarde, 
 and searche in eache corner was made so nye 403 
 
 That I was compelde this polecye to trye, 
 To forsake the howse, and my selfe disguyse 
 lyke an Inkeper of london, to bleare the peoples eyes. 406 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 But a rewarde was promyste hym that coulde me take, 
 whiche made the people looke so muche the nere^' ; 
 And beinge constrayned the howse to forsake, 
 [We] walked throughe the pastures as men without 
 
 feare ; 
 my man like an hostler was cladd in symple geare ; 411 
 But this woulde not serve, if truthe I shall tell, 
 my favor I coulde not change, my face was knowne 
 well. 413 
 
 XL. 
 
 There was a poore man, a weaver, was one of the watche, 
 
 by whome the gate^ laye as of force I muste walke ; 
 Hee came to me boldlie, by the arme did me catche, 
 " Staye, good frende \" quothe hee, " with you I muste 
 talke." 417 
 
 my conscience beinge guyltie, my tonge gan to balke : 
 " wee are not those you looke for," I foltringlie did saye ; 
 "owr commyssion," quothe hee, "is all passengers to 
 staye." 420 
 
 ' nearer, closer. ^ road, way. 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye Bahington, 19 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Then tlie people gan flocke aboute me a-pace, \)-^^^ 12.] 
 
 and before the master of the rolls I forthwith was brought. 
 
 when I came theroj I was knowne by my face 
 
 To bee the same man that theye so longe had sought, 424 
 
 and cheifest of the crewe that all the sturr had wrought. 
 
 Sir Gilberte Gerrarde Examynde, and sente me to the 
 
 towre, 
 and stronglie was I guardedwith a mightie greate powre. 
 
 427 
 
 XLTI. 
 
 Then the londiners reioyced, and merrye did make 
 
 with ringinge of bells, givinge god the prayse. 
 All my olde common frends did me clene forsake. 
 That before had flattred me dyverse & sondrye wayes ; ^31 
 But favor, frendshipp, and faithe, by treason Decayes, 
 as appears by me, whose fame, credditt, and renowne, 
 my traytrose attempts had sone plucked downe. 434 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Then shortlie after to the kings benche wee weare brought, 
 
 and a nomber of others, confederates like case. 
 There to make awnswer to the deedes wee had wrought ; 
 but then my glorye gan declyne a-pace ; 438 
 
 yet with a countnance I sett thereon a face ; 
 where beinge arraygned, I guyltie was founde 
 of highe treason agaynste my kinge and crowne. 441 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Barnewell and savage had confest the same before ; 
 
 then bootelesse twas for vs anye poynte to denaye, — 
 owr conscience beinge guiltie, it Irkte vs the more, — 
 So that fourtene of vs weare condemned that daye. 445 
 
 Wee carde not for deathe, wee stowtlie did saye ; 
 
 OUT Judgment was to be hangde, and quartred like 
 
 case, 
 of whiche wee made no accounnte ; deathe coulde vs not 
 disgrace. " 448 
 
 c2 
 
20 The Complaynte of Anthonye BaUngton. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 And nowe tlie daye of ouv execution drewe nere, [leaf 12, back.] 
 
 In wMclie wee did playe owr laste tragicke partes, 
 when seven of vs on hurdells from the towre dra[w]ne 
 weare. 
 Which e was no small corsive^ to ouv heavie hartes, 452 
 
 yet a luste rewarde for ouv wicked desartes. 
 
 The people flockte aboute vs with this heavye sounde, 
 " God save the Qaene 1 and all traytors confounde \" 455 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 In the feilds nere lyncolns Inns a stage was sett vpp, 
 and a mightie highe gallose was raysed on the same, 
 Whiche was the verye Instrument, & omp deadlie cuppe, 
 of whiche to taste ouv selues wee muste frame ; 459 
 
 and beastlie Ballarde, twas hee beganne the game, 
 
 Whoe was hangde and quartred in all the peoples sight, 
 and his head on a poale on the gallose sett vpright. 462 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 N"exte muste I make redye to treade the same dance, 
 whereto I preparde my selfe as a man without feare : 
 Thousands lamented I had so harde a chance, 
 and for me there was shedd manye a salte teare. 466 
 
 They lookte for confession, but weare never the nere ; 
 Sir fifrancis knolls, with others, ofiferde with me to 
 
 praye : 
 ''none but Catholicks prayers will proffitt," thus did I 
 saye. 469 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Thus Died I stoutlie, and did not trulie repento 
 
 my wicked life paste, and moste haynouse treason. 
 If in a good cause my life had bene spente. 
 To haue avoucht the same there had bene some reason ; 473 
 But wickedlie I lived and dyed at that season : 
 
 Havinge hanged a while, and my head cutt of in haste, 
 on the right Hande of Ballards it was placest. 476 
 
The Complaynte of Anthonye BaUngton. 21 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 [leaflS.] 
 Then Died Bar [n] well. Savage, and yonge Tustborne also, 
 
 withe Tilnie and Abington, in order as they came. 
 But o, Tuchborne, Tuchborne ! thou makest me fuU woe ! 
 ■ ffor I was the firste that allurde thee to the same, 480 
 
 Thie witts beinge yonge, likewaye I did frame ; 
 
 Thou beinge well Inclinde, throughe me didst consente 
 To cpnceale the thinge that made vs all repente. 483 
 
 L. 
 
 The nexte daye dyed Salsburye, Henrye Dune, and lones, 
 
 with lohn Travice of prescott, w/iich is in lancashere ; 
 So did lohn Charnocke, a traytor for the nonce. 
 Eoberte Gage of Croyden muste then on stage appeare, 487 
 and lastlie Bellamye, ouv hoste, that made vs all the 
 chere : 
 Theise seven weare executed on saynte matheues daye, 
 The twentithe of September there partes they did playe. 
 
 400 
 
 LI. 
 
 Oure quarters weare boyled like the fleshe of swyne, 
 and on the cittie gates in open vewe doe stande j 
 oure conceited hedds, that once wee thought so fyne, 
 on london bridge bee spectakles to subiects of the lande, 494 
 Warninge them to shunne to take like things in hande. 
 Ouv soules in the censure of gods ludgnients doe reste : 
 This was the rewarde for the treasons wee profeste, 497 
 
 LII. 
 
 Thus haue I tolde thee my tragedie at large, 
 in everye particular as the same was wrought ; 
 reporte it to my contrie-men, I thee straytlie- charge, 
 to shune those things that my destruction brought ; 501 
 ffor traytrose attempts at all tyme prove nought : 
 
 Serche our Bnglishe Chron{kels, & thou shalte fynde the 
 
 same. 
 That "whoe begyns in trecherie, hee endeth still in 
 shame. 504 
 
22 The Complaynte of Anthony e Babington, 
 
 LIII. 
 
 [leaf 13, back] 
 At my requeste^ therefore, admonyslie then all men 
 
 to spende well the tallente that god hathe them lente ; 
 and hee that hathe but one, lett hym not toyle for tenue, 
 ffor one is to muche vnlesse it bee well spente, 503 
 
 I meane by ambition, leaste hee to sone repente. 
 
 To conclude, happie is the man, and threefolde bleste is 
 
 hee. 
 That can bee contente to hve w^th his degree. sn 
 
 felix, quem^ faciunt aliena 
 pericula cautum. 
 
 finis. 
 
 quam. 
 
23 
 
 Efie 3Life mti IBeatfj of lEssex. 
 
 [Arundel MS. 418, leaf 14.] 
 
 To oure Eoiall kinges moste 
 Excelleiite maiestie 
 
 This booke — my gratiouse Soveraygne — of the life and 
 deathe of my lords of Essex, I did -write presentlie vppon 
 his deathOj and did bestowe tbe same on some of my honor- 
 able and worshipfull fronds, whoe tbought well of the same. 
 In regarde that I had written the truthe bothe of Ms life 
 and manner of his deathe; and nowe [I] haue revived the 
 same, and make presente of it to yowr princelie maiestie, 
 wMch I beseche you accepte, as a poore pittance of my zeale 
 and Dutie to jour bighnes, and that it woulde please you to 
 pardon all defectes of the same, wherein you bynde me for 
 ever to praye for yowr Eoiall maiestie longs to rayngs 
 over vs // 
 
 jouT maiesties poors distrsssed 
 Subiecte, Eicharde Williams 
 
24 The Life and Death of Essex. 
 
 [leaf 15.] 
 
 A lamentable Motion or mour[n]full remembrance for the 
 Deathe of Eoberte Lorde Deverox, Late Earle of Essex, 
 whoe was beheaded in the Towre of london on ashwensdaye 
 mornynge in the yeare of oure lorde — 1601 — 
 
 Englande ! thou haste cause to complaynCj 
 
 to thincke vppon hym that is gone, 
 Whose face thou nere shalte see agayne, 3 
 
 Whiche is the cause of this thie mone, 
 Doughtie Deverox, that famose Earle, 
 That lewell rare, that princes pearle. 6 
 
 II. 
 
 And is hee gone, and gone in-deede ? 
 a corsive^ greate, a gallinge greife. 
 The whiche makes manye a harte to bleede ; 9 
 
 but all in vayne, without releife. 
 
 To thincke this worthie peere shoulde die. 
 Whose harte was fraught with pietie, 12 
 
 III. 
 
 Thoughe hee bee gone, hees not.forgott j 
 
 nor will not bee this manye a yeare, 
 Thoughe sorrowe fall vnto oure lott 15 
 
 for losse of this moste gallante peere. 
 Essex ! Essex ! (manye doe saye,) 
 By envies spite was made awaye : 18 
 
 IV. 
 
 Whose vertues. If I coulde recounte, P^af 13, back.] 
 
 on whiche to thincke dothe passe my skill, 
 Leaste Muses of parnassus mounte 21 
 
 Herein shoulde guyde my symple quill : 
 But tushe ! I can them not rehearse 
 In suche base stile and symple verse. 24 
 
The Life and Death of Essex. 25 
 
 V. 
 
 Yet will I doe the beste I can : 
 
 His frends will take it in good parte, 
 Thoughe I Decipher not the man 27 
 
 accordinge to his highe desarte, 
 
 whose vertues aymde at higher things 
 
 Then pan can pipe on oaten strings. 30 
 
 VI. 
 
 ffirste, for his birthe and highe discente, 
 tis knowne hee came of noble blood; 
 Trewe Honor was his whole intente, 33 
 
 To Doe his Quene and contrie good ; 
 But cheiflie, gods truthe to mayntayne, 
 ffor whiche hee sparde no toyle nor payne. 36 
 
 VII. 
 
 Lett his greatest enemyes saye, 
 
 what toyle it was hee did forsake, 
 If maiestie wilde, hee then strayght-waye 39 
 
 moste willinglie woulde vndertake ; 
 Earle Essex was ever preste 
 To see his contries wrongs redreste. 42 
 
 VIII. 
 
 That Portingale can witnesse well, [leaf 16.] 
 
 and Don anthonie, then there kinge ; 
 Where haughtie valor did excell, 45 
 
 That man in his estate to bringe. 
 
 At lisborne gates this challenged hee, 
 
 " The prowdest within, come forthe to me \" 48 
 
 IX. 
 
 But when hee sawe it was [in] vayne. 
 He stucke his Dagger on the gate. 
 Whereon hee honge his golden chayne, 51 
 
 as skomynge there the prowdest made : 
 " This shalbe^ token that I bringe 
 To you yoMr trewe anoynted kinge." 54 
 
 > MS shaUe. 
 
26 The Life and Death of Essex. 
 
 Semge Hee coulde not there prevayle, 
 
 withe Honor [he] marched thence awaye. 
 The spanyards pride hee ofte did quayle, 57 
 
 and wrought there ruyne night and daye. 
 And so came home w^th threefolde fame ; 
 Then Honored was brave Essex name. 60 
 
 XI, 
 
 Then Into firance this lorde was sente, 
 
 And Walter Deverox, his brother dere j 
 Ten thousande men with hym there wente 63 
 
 Taccompanye this gallante peere. 
 
 At Gurnaye hee greate fame did wyune ; 
 That towne by valor hee tooke in.^ 
 
 XII. 
 
 66 
 
 To-wardes brave [Eouen] then marched hee, P^^ l". 
 
 His brother leadinge his brave trayne, "-' 
 
 Whoe was shott by the enemye 69 
 
 So cruellye, that hee there was slayne ; 
 
 whoe, to revenge his brothers deathe, 
 
 vowed there to spende his latest breathe. 72 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The frenche kinge Did his furye staye, 
 
 whoe with greate multitudes came there ; 
 But withe Honor Hee marcht awaye, 75 
 
 £For hee there forches did not feare. 
 Then Deverox in esteme was heilde, 
 whoe gott renowne in Towne and feilde. 78 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But nexte Cales commeth to my mynde, 
 where, in despight of Spannyshe pride, 
 A goodlie Towne hee there did fynde, 81 
 
 weU Eampyrde, mande, and fortified : 
 His foes agaynste hym there did stande 
 moste stronglie, bothe by sea and lande. 84 
 
 ' took, captured. 
 
The Life and Death of Essex. 27 
 
 XT. 
 
 But braye Honor did there prevayle, 
 
 and valor loyned to tlie same ; 
 when foes did freslilie hym assayle, 87 
 
 " Saynt George and Essex :" at vihlch. name 
 It loyed so eache Bnglishe Harte, 
 The spanyards felte bothe woe and smarte. 90 
 
 XVI, 
 
 And so that Towne hee bravelie entred, [leaf 17.] 
 
 Sir lohn Wingfilde beinge nere hym, 
 That, withe brave Essex boldlie ventred, 93 
 
 and as a faithful! fre [n] de did chore hym ; 
 But cruell Deathe, with deadlie darte. 
 Then strooke^ this gallante to the harte. 96 
 
 XVII. 
 
 ffor nexte before hym hee was slayne 
 
 withe shott that came from of the wall ; 
 whiche was to hym a threefolde payne^ , 99 
 
 to see his frende so nere hym fall ; 
 
 But greefe coulde doe his frende no good j 
 withe furye hee revengde his blood, 102 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And in despite hee wanne the towne 
 
 of aU that semde hym to resiste. 
 Then firste, good lawes hee did sett downe, 105 
 
 His souldiers furye so DismystOj 
 and charged them vppon there lives 
 not to deflowre maydes nor wives. 108 
 
 XIX. 
 
 A leiftenant brake his commando^ 
 whoe deflowred there a mayde j 
 But hee was hanged out of hande, ill 
 
 to make the reste by hym affrayde ; 
 
 Three howres on markett crosse honge hee. 
 That all his lustice there might see. 114 
 
 ' MS. stroote. 
 
28 The Life and Death of Essex. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Greate mercye hee did likewise showe, P^af 17, baei.] 
 
 not loyinge in sheedinge guyltlesse blood, 
 nor Tryrmpht in the yeildinge foe, H^ 
 
 nor suche as at his mercye stood : 
 
 Whiche clemencye his foes did prayse 
 
 To his greate fame, even sondrye wayes. 120 
 
 XXI. 
 
 His warrs by seas weare of like force : 
 
 The spannyshe shipps weare stronglie mande, 
 where was made manye a lowlie corse 123 
 
 That stoutlie at defence did stande ; 
 
 But OUT shipps fought with suche greate yre. 
 That twoe of them they sett on fyer, 126 
 
 XXII. 
 
 And twoe of them they brought awaye 
 
 Home Into Bnglande for a price ; 
 Ransackte the towne ; then woulde not staye, 129 
 But marcht from thence with good advice. 
 Then Essex name was in accounte : 
 whoe but Deverox did then surmounte ? 132 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Yet er hee wente from thence awaye. 
 
 The Spanyards for the Towne agreede. 
 And certen somes to hym did paye ; 135 
 
 So then they marcht awaye with speede, 
 And paste the seas, with sayles on hie. 
 As men resolude^ to fight, not flie. 138 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 To the Hands Hee marched then, Peaf 18-] 
 
 where of treasure hee gott good store, 
 withe all oure gallante Englishmen; 1*1 
 
 all had Inoughe, what woulde you more ? 
 yet more they had gotten that daye. 
 But that ill lucke did crosse there waye. 1^* 
 
 resolved. 
 
The Life and Death of Essex. 29 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Then came hee home with honored famej 
 
 then was hee loude^ of prince and peere ; 
 Admyred then was Essex name, 147 
 
 and as there lives they helde hym dere. 
 Yet envie might repyne as then. 
 That alwayes lurckes in enviose men. 150 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then Generall hee was elected. 
 
 In Irlande for to beare the swaye, — 
 A Trayne** whiche hee not suspected, 15a 
 
 To worke his ruyne and decaye ; 
 
 Greate promyses to hym weare made. 
 
 But in performance they did fade, — 156 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 And gallantlie hym selfe preparde 
 
 with a moste brave and warlike trayne, 
 (no coste to furnishe hym was sparde ;) 159 
 
 whoe might hym serve, was gladd & fayne, 
 moste voluntaryes ; fewe weare preste 
 That wente with hym, some of the beste. 162 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Hee there did spende bothe toyle and payne [leaf 18, 
 
 to doe His Queue and contrie good ; back.] 
 
 Hee Honor and good fame did gayne, 165 
 
 the whiche did costB his derest blood ; 
 
 ffor there a plott for hym was layde, 
 
 Whiche withe his honored hedd hee payde. 168 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 But treason was layde to his charge, 
 
 and manye artikles obiected ; 
 whoe rowed not so in follies barge, 171 
 
 and thinges propounded not suspected j 
 and suche at that tyme bare the swaye, 
 as sought his ruyne and decaye ; 174 
 
 ' loved. • aitifioe, stratagem : Mach. iii. 4, Spencer, F. Q. i. iii. 24.— Nares. 
 
80 Tlie Life and Death of Essex. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 And so hee was condemwde to dye, 
 
 tlie whiclie hee tooke in quiett parte, 
 and to the lorde tis god on Lie, ^^7 
 
 Hee yeilded liyni with all his harte. 
 
 Deathe coulde not Daunte his noble mynde; 
 Vnto His Quene hee was moste kynde. 180 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 And so hee ever did proteste 
 
 Hee mente her maiestie no harme ; 
 no one thought in his harte did rests, 183 
 
 Thoughe synon^ subtellie did charme 
 In secrett sorte his blood to spiU : 
 Hee was contente, they had there will. 186 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Tet mai[e]stie woulde hym discharge, [leaf 19.] 
 
 and haue releaceste^ hym from his thrall ; 
 But Rawe-bones layde on lies at large, 189 
 
 and howrelie sought to see his fall ; 
 
 whoe never stayde, till they gott synde* 
 
 His doome of deathe, to please there mynde. 192 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 And then in all post haste withe speede 
 
 Theye to the Towres leifteniia[n]t came, 
 withe strickte commando to doe the deede, 195 
 
 as hee woulde awnswer to the same 
 If hee made staye, or once delayde 
 The prescript howre ; -which, hee obayde. 198 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Tet greiude in mynde^ hee loude* hym dere. 
 
 But muste her highe coi?imande fulfill, 
 when this good man of this did heare, 201 
 
 Hee sayde " good lorde, bleste be thie will ! 
 I thancke my god and my good Quene 
 That thus myndefull of me haue bene. 204 
 
 ' Cecil or Cotham. 
 
 ' Pronounce relcast ; compare disgraceste for d! /'(traced, I. 331 ; and placeste 
 iox placed, 1, 333, telow; p. 7, 1. 82, above. ^ signed. ■• loved, 
 
The Life and Death of Essex. 31 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " To-morrowe morninge I shall paye 
 
 the debte that I doe owe her grace, 
 my life to her I downe will laye 20^ 
 
 moste willinglioj within this place ; 
 
 Then my frends, that my Gardiants bee. 
 
 Shall see my god moste stronge in mee." 210 
 
 XSXTI. 
 
 That night in prayer hee did passe, [leaf 19, back.] 
 
 moste ferventlie, vnto the lorde ; 
 no feare of deathe his treble was ; 213 
 
 His mynde was fixte on gods pure worde j 
 His care was cheife for his greate synne 
 and loathed luste hee had liude in. 216 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 And godlie men withe hym did praye, 
 
 confirmde his faithe on christe a-bove, 
 Howe hee^ had washte his synns awaye, 219 
 
 of his mere mercye and greate love, 
 
 nowe home from strayinge did hym call ; 
 
 Hee on his shoulders woulde beare aU. 222 
 
 xxxvni. 
 
 Moste of the night that waye hee spente, 
 
 and ofbe woulde comforte his dere frends 
 That semed for hym to lamente : 
 " wepe not for mee ! men haue there ends, 
 all that [be] borne, nodes muste dye ; 
 To-morrowe mornynge so muste I. 228 
 
 xxxix. 
 
 Ashwensdaye mornynge nowe was come j 
 
 His deadlie foes as earlie there. 
 And yet that loude [him] there weare some, 231 
 
 That came to see with greife and feare. 
 All thinges in haste prepared was, 
 That this peere to his deathe might passe. 234 
 
 ' he who. 
 
32 The Life and Death of Essex. 
 
 XL. 
 
 A place appoynted in the towrOj P^^^ ^"-1 
 
 withe stage and blocke, and all things fitt. 
 Made redye agaynate the verye howre^ 237 
 
 with seates for suche nobles to sitt 
 That came to see hym loose his head, 
 where manye brinishe teares weare spredd. 240 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Then came this peere with countnance mylde, 
 
 as Lambe vnto his slaughter ledd : 
 His foes, whiche pittie had exilde, 243 
 
 ffor verye shame helde downe there head. 
 To thincke in mynde what they had donne. 
 Thus to ekchpse bright Honors sonne. 246 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Then kneelinge downe, his prayer did make 
 
 vnto his god in Heaven above ; 
 all wordlie^ motions did forsake, 249 
 
 forgave his enemyes with love, 
 
 " Lorde, laye not this vnto their^ charge ! 
 
 mj Deathe I haue deserude at large.^' 252 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 His greatest wordlie care was this, 
 
 Hee had some frends that loude hym well. 
 That never knewe secrett of his, 255 
 
 nor previe weare to his counsel], 
 yet weare in troble for his sake ; 
 But hoapte his Queue woulde mer[c]ye take. 258 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 The Headsman kneeled on his knee, [leaf 20, baot.] 
 
 and sayde, " my lorde, forgive jox(,t deathe \" 
 " Withe all my harte I forgive thee ; 261 
 
 Dispatche at once ! come, stoppe my breathe ! 
 Thou, Justice mynister arte here ; 
 Come, doe thie office, and haue no feare I 264 
 
 » worldly. ^ MS. my. 
 
The Life and Death of Essex. S3 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " Come nowe," quothe hee, " whats to bee donne ? 
 
 wee maye dispatche the same with, spede ; 
 my glasse on earthe (I see) is ronne, 267 
 
 And lachesis -will cutt tlie ttreede, 
 
 whoe prepared hatlie His sliarpned knife 
 
 To reave me of my vitall life." 270 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Then layde Hs bodye flatt alonge. 
 
 His liead likewise vppon tke blocke j 
 But Headsman did threfolde wronge, 273 
 
 wkoe tooke at hym three severall stroakes 
 Er head from bodye wente a-waye ; 
 yet as a lambe hee quyett.laye. 276 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Thus this greate peere ended his life^ 
 
 and brought his soule to quyett reste, 
 ffree from the cares of wordlie strife, 279 
 
 whiche daylie did his mynde moleste ; 
 And nowe with god in glorye dwells, 
 whereas his ioye earthes ioye excells. 282 
 
 XLTIII. 
 
 As Hee with god, a-bove dothe reste, [Ieaf2l.] 
 
 Hee hathe lefte vs here to complayne ; 
 cure hartes withe sorrowe are distreste, 285 
 
 and comfortles wee still remayne 
 ffor wante of hym that so is gone, 
 whiche is the subiecte of OMr mone. 288 
 
 XLIX, 
 
 The noble men, they wante a peere, 
 
 withe them in counsell that did sitt ; 
 Oaptaynes, a leader they helde dere, 291 
 
 a seconde sallomon for witt, 
 
 a losias stronge, grave and wise, 
 afiFable, kynde, but not precyse. 294 
 
 ni. D 
 
303 
 
 84 The Ufe and Death of Essex. 
 
 Souldiers doe ttere Generall wante, 
 
 tliat still was wonte to see them payde 
 Thoughe Captaynes woulde the same supplante, 297 
 and they longe tyme shoulde bee delayde ; 
 whiohe, when Essex of that did here, 
 Hee turnde to ioye there mournfull chere. 300 
 
 LI. 
 
 whoe cassirde^ suche as delte not well ? 
 
 ffrom his bandes bannysht them awaye ? 
 Wherein his Honor did excell j 
 
 Then souldiers trulie had there paye : 
 Here was trewe fame wonne by desarte ; 
 This showde the Honor of his harte. 306 
 
 LIT. 
 
 Widowes doe wayle, and children crye, \\^^ 21, back.] 
 
 and manye fatherlesse lamente ; 
 Maydes at there distafes showe cause whie 3"^ 
 
 wee moved are withe discontente ; 
 
 ffor there, in dolefuU tunes theye singe, 
 
 " Essex, Essex, did comforte bringe." 312 
 
 LIU. 
 
 The poore that begge at everye dore. 
 
 In heavie notes recorde his fame ; 
 Hee alwayes loude the needye poore, 313 
 
 and they admyrde good Essex name ; 
 no whippinge stockes hee did Invente, 
 Theye weare not made by his consente. 318 
 
 LIV. 
 
 And daylie more his fame is raysde, 
 
 Synce oitr kinge came to swaye this lande ; 
 nowe is hee myste, nowe is hee praysde, 321 
 
 Whiche our good kinge well vnderstands ; 
 His maiestie hym selfe is sadd. 
 Whereat his foes are nothinge gladd. 324 
 
 * cashiered. 
 
The Life and Death of Essex. 85 
 
 LV. 
 
 Oare kinge dotlie countenance his frends, 
 
 snche as in life tyrae helde hym dere ; 
 on them Riclie Honors daylie spends, 327 
 
 for love to them and this greate peere ; 
 His Sonne attendante on the princOj 
 Whiche envyes spite maye well convynce. 330 
 
 LYI. 
 
 Whereas his foes, they are disgraceste,^ [leaf 22.] 
 
 but lustlie, throughe there owne desarfce ; 
 In lymbo patrum some are placeste,^ 333 
 
 whiche is a terror to there hartes ; 
 
 yett this maye well putt them in mynde. 
 
 To Essex they haue bene vukynde. 336 
 
 LTII. 
 
 God grante theye maye thincke of the same, 
 
 and trewe teares of repentance bringej 
 They nowe are scandalde with defame 339 
 
 for treason agaynste cure good kinge. 
 But if truthe bringe treason to light, 
 God sende them there desartes by right. 342 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 And suche measure as they haue mett^ 
 
 To worthie Deverox, whiche wee mysse, 
 lustice the like on them maye sett ; 345 
 
 Theye maye withe truthe acknowledge this, 
 " That noble pere whiche wee betrayde. 
 His blood on vs is lustlie layde." 348 
 
 LIX. 
 
 God sende all greate men to take heede, 
 and withe there state to bee contente, 
 leaste that ambition chance to breede 351 
 
 Suche thoughts as maye make them repente 
 To hassarde state and noble name. 
 To bee Impeached withe defame. 354 
 
 ' Cp. defaceste for defaced, p. 48, 1. 294, etc. 
 « Cp. p. 7, 1. 82. 3 meted. 
 
 d2 
 
36 The Life and Death of Essex. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Noble Essex was beloved well [leaf 22, bad.] 
 
 of riche and poore of eache degree ; 
 Hee loved was, as fame dothe tell, ^5^ 
 
 of sucte as never did hym see. 
 
 Tuslie ! that was bitt tbe commons love ! 
 
 His Honors periode did prove. 360 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Ob tbat pure love sboulde tume to spite, 
 
 or bonye swete converte to gall ! 
 Oh tbat trewe Honors cheife delite, 363 
 
 By envye sboulde gett suche a fall ! 
 Ob that theise wordes I doe rehearse. 
 Might withe remorse there malice peirce ! 366 
 
 LXII. 
 
 "Well ! bee is gone ! that is to trewe ! 
 
 yet ins^ posteritie dothe live ; 
 Twoe gallante Impes, tbat doe renewe 369 
 
 the fame tbat Essex dothe vs give ; 
 Twoe gallante sonnes of Deverox race, 
 Whiche bardlie can broke^ bis disgrace. 372 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 ffor nature gynnes to beare a swaye 
 alredye in there youthfuU pryme : 
 To perfection come it maye, 375 
 
 when leaste tis thought in after tyme, 
 perhaps to bee revengde on those 
 Haue bene there fathers greatest foes. 378 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 I wisbe it not : gods will bee donne ! [leaf 23.] 
 
 But guyltlesse blood will vengance crave ; 
 Tbe father crye[s] vnto the Sonne • 381 
 
 from his Horried tymeles grave. 
 
 Thus writers write, thus poetts fayne ; 
 
 manye forgotten, a-newe complayne. 384 
 
 ' in his, * brook. 
 
The Life and Death of Essex. 37 
 
 LXV. 
 
 But farewell Essex, noble peere ! 
 
 farewell, trewe Honor, that did sliyne ! 
 Thie beames weare splendante, pure, and clere, ^^^ 
 and thou the prospecte of ouv tyme ! 
 
 Thou throughe the pikes didst boldlie ronne ; 
 Deserved fame haste trulie wonne. 390 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 All that loves thee bidds thee farewell, 
 ffrom Highest to the lowest degree ; 
 But sure, thie fare dothe farr excell 393 
 
 The greatest peeres on earthe that bee. 
 Gods presence is thyne onelie foode. 
 That bought thee with his derest blood. 396 
 
 vivit post funera virtus. 
 
 finis. R. W. 
 
39 
 
 [Arundel MS. 418, leaf 24.] 
 
 ^cclamatia ^atrte, 
 
 or 
 
 The coinp[l]aynte of the good subiects of Englande for the 
 
 myserie of these Tymes, 
 
 Or the powder Treasons : 
 
 otherwise 
 
 a pulpitt for papisteSj and a trappe for Traytors. 
 
 To OUT Roiall kinges moste excellente 
 maiestie. 
 
 Moste dreade and gratiouse Soveraygne, this booke I did 
 write presentlie vppon the Dangers paste of this horrible 
 pretended^ treason ; and seynge no other had written thereof, 
 I did pretende^ to haue put the same in printe, and had 
 gotten it lycenced accordinge to order. But a printer asked 
 me a some of moneye for the Impression, whiche I was not 
 able to paye ; and so I kepte it privatt. But that I presented 
 [leaf 24, back.] Some of them to my Honorable and worshipfuU 
 frendes ; and one of them I Did presente to your famouse 
 Sonne, Prince Henrie, when yowr maiestie was in yowr pro- 
 gresse in Nottingham-shere, at the Howse of one. Sir lohn 
 Byron, a knight, that Dwelleth in the forrest of mansfilde. But 
 I never harde anye awnswer of it j and nowe haue thought it 
 good to presente it jour Highnes, amongst the reste of my 
 labors : not that the particulars are vnknone to jour maiestie, 
 but that thereby you maye see my lore and dutiful! zeale 
 to you my kinge, and contrie. Moste humblie besechinge 
 yoMr Highnes to pardon myne attempte, and to accepte of 
 the same, whoe will and doe, Daylie praye to the almightie 
 to kepe and defende you from all traytrose attempts, and 
 that you maye Hve manye yeares to rule and Raygne over 
 vs. 
 
 Towr maiesties poore Distressed 
 Subiecte, Eicharde williams. 
 
 • intended. * intend. 
 
40 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 Aclamatio patrie^ or ^ P^^ 25.] 
 
 The complaynte of the good subiects 
 
 of Bnglande for the myseryes of theise 
 
 Tymes ; 
 
 Withe a trappe for Traytors, 
 
 and a pulpitt for papistes. 
 
 What cause haue al good subiects to complayne 
 
 for owr dare contrie, spotted with defame, 
 The whiche, trecherie dothe polute and stayne, 
 
 and woulde ecklipse the glorie of the same, — 4 
 
 Butj to there ruyne and endlesse shame, 
 owr roiall kinges maiestie to surprise, 
 and ore his progenye woulde Tyranise. 1 
 
 II. 
 
 Oh Englande, Englande ! a moste happie soile, 
 
 that hathe bene the nurse of roiall kinges ! 
 o vilde^ viprose broode, that seke the spoile 
 
 of yottr dere mother ! that with payne forthe brings n 
 bothe wholesome flowers, and netles that stings ! 
 vnnaturall children, and bastards broode. 
 That woulde glutt jouv selfe with her dereste blood ! l* 
 
 III. 
 
 What did you Imagyn, when you began 
 
 this dangerose attempte and moste wicked^ treason, 
 Hatefull to god, odiouse to man, 
 
 wherein you had nor grace, nor reason ? 18 
 
 all pittie bannysht, yowr fruytes that season, 
 you that in an Instante woulde all destroye, 
 abridgiuge all hope of ottr contries ioye. 21 
 
 IV. 
 
 If his maiestie, Tyranouse had bynne, [leaf 25, back.] 
 
 and had ruled with rigor this fertile lande, 
 and that god had sente hym to plauge* owr synne, 
 
 wee ought not his holie decrees withstande, 25 
 
 nor agaynste his highnes once lifte owr hande. 
 whie ? because hee is the lordes anoynted, 
 over vs to Raygne, by hym appoynted. 28 
 
 ' vile. ' MS. wicted. ^ plague. 
 
Acclamatio Patrim, or the Powder Treasons. 41 
 
 But hee is metcyfull j you knowe it well ! 
 
 Hee makes good lawes, and dailie sekes for peace ! 
 Eeporte in eache contrie his fame dothe tell^ 
 
 althoughe vntrustie traytors never ceasse 32 
 
 To augmente his feares, and greives increase ; 
 But hee, resolude, in god putteth truste, 
 whoe is a rocke and safegarde to the iuste. 35 
 
 VI. 
 
 Doe what yon can, not one heare shall fall 
 nor be dyminisht from his highnes head ! 
 Thoughe you practise, frett, fume, splitt yowr gall, 
 
 jouv attempts are vayne ! you sender but the thredd 39 
 whiche destruction for jouv selues hathe bredd ! 
 wee good subiectes loye at yowr Illusion, 
 To see yowr ruyne and sole confusion ! 42 
 
 VII. 
 
 Consider what twas yon woulde haue donne : 
 
 the moste odiouse thinge that ever was Invented ! 
 To ecklipse the glorye of Englands sunne, 
 
 withe the devill and hell you had Indented,^ 46 
 
 yowr owne damnation had consented ! 
 
 The like nere harde synce the wordle began ! 
 Murther, ruyne, and wracke of manye man ! 49 
 
 VIII. 
 
 you threwe at all, but haue loste yoitr firste mayne : P^af 26.] 
 
 you aymde at fayrest kinge, Quene, prince, and all, 
 and the whole nobillitie to haue slayne. 
 
 The learned Bishopps to haue brought to thrall, 53 
 
 and of wise Burgeses haue wrought the fall ; 
 To haue blowne them vpp without all pittie, 
 Haue burnde the kings howse, and fyred the cittie ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 Tee ! at an Instante this shoulde haue bene wrought, 
 
 when they weare busied to make good lawes ! 
 In whose trewe hartes no trechery was thought. 
 
 But there contries good was the onelie cause, 60 
 
 when you — worse then^ ravens or chatringe dawes — 
 There vtter subvertion had devisde 
 By treason, w/iich god hathe ever despisde, 63 
 
 ' * Covenanted by an indenture or indented deed. ^ MS. then then. 
 
42 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons, 
 
 Tyrranye, crueltie, and moste wicked hate, 
 
 to Dinge^ them downe with myndes variable, 
 of there soules as then not myndinge the state ; 
 
 Some weake in faithe, in conscience not stable ! 67 
 
 But that gods mercyos are ever able 
 
 To save synfuU soules at his good pleasure, 
 
 you might haue robde them of heavens treasure. 70 
 
 XI. 
 
 you respected neither bodie nor soule ! 
 
 ambition kepes no lymmitts nor boundes : 
 yoMr aspiringe myndes had dared^ controule, 
 
 yowr conscience, spotted and full of woundes. ^4, 
 
 like men not sicke, yet sodenlie swoundes. 
 So you felte no greefe, yet sodenlie fell 
 Without gods mercyes to the depest hell. 77 
 
 XII. 
 
 What Had ensued if you had prevaylde ? [leaf 26, back.] 
 
 woes, ruyne, and vtter confusion ! 
 Gods holie truthe by yowr means had quaylde, 
 
 and poperye agayne had made Intrusion, 81 
 
 and light darkned with yowr Illusion ! 
 Then to puritanes and protestants woe ! 
 There wives, children, and there lives, to forgoe ! 84 
 
 XIII. 
 
 A thousandes mysecheifes more had attended : 
 
 all vyUanyes then had bene sett abroache ; 
 Howe [could] Innocence, haue Rigor defended,' 
 
 when truthe to bee tryed durste not approche ? 88 
 
 But crueltie over hym woulde Incroche, 
 Tyranisinge too, and laughe at his fall : 
 The tyme nowe is come thou shalte paye for all ! 91 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Then, woe to the riche that had purste vp golde ! 
 
 and woe to anye that had gotten treasure ! 
 ffor then base Rascalls woulde haue bene bolde, 
 
 Haue robde and trivmpht at there pleasure ; — 95 
 
 for vyllanye never kepes a measure ; — 
 
 yee woe to all that did honestlie meane ! 97 
 
 yer the harvest wear e come, the slaves woulde glean [e] . 
 
 ' strike, smite. ' ? KS. » warded off. 
 
Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 43 
 
 XV. 
 
 Havocke they woulde haue cryed : 
 
 " the tyme is nowe come, lets rifell for all ! 
 of theise cormorants weele abate the pride, 
 
 and of greasie churles weele splitt the gall ! 102 
 
 Better theise lacke, then good fellowes fall : 
 ifor what they haue gott by vnlawfull gayne. 
 To spende for there sakes weele take the payne. 105 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " This is the daye wee haue longe looked for, [leaf 27.] 
 
 and nowe tis come, weele sett cocke on hoope. 
 Tushe ! feare not, hostice ! weele pays thee the score ! 
 Be merrye, my wenche, doe no longer droope ! 109 
 
 fifor this, manye a carle wee haue made to stoope.^' 
 Thus villanye woulde vaunte, more then I write, 
 or my skilles^ penne is able to recyte. 112 
 
 XVII. 
 
 This, ouv generall ruyne woulde haue bene ! 
 
 If treason had brought his purpose to passe, 
 wee dolefuU dayes in Englande shoulde haue sene, 
 
 withe moste greivose grones cryinge 'alas, 116 
 
 That ere suche crueltie Invented was ! 
 
 That wee lived to see these doleful! dayes, 
 
 where wronge abuseth right so manye wayes V H9 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 But god in mercye did beholde ouv estate, 
 
 and in his goodnes hathe looked vppon va 
 when wee weare cyrcumvented with deadlie hate, 
 
 all hope of remorse had quyte forgon vs, 123 
 
 and that destruction was nerest on vs. 
 Confusion preste^ with his bloodye hande 
 To overthrowe the state of this owr lande. 126 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Nowe particularlie He touche there names 
 
 that thus had plotted cure generall fall, — 
 I proteste to my greefe, but to there shames, — 
 
 That mente to haue made havoke of all, 130 
 
 and turnde cure honye to moste bitter gaU, 
 
 Infectinge the swete and moste pretiose springs 
 ffrom whence came the nectar of roiall kinges 1 133 
 * skill-leas. ' ready. 
 
44 Acclamatio Patria, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Percye ! thie honor of valor firste begane U^^^ 27, back.] 
 when Haughtie Hott-spurr did firste wynne that name 
 By peircinge the eye of a moste brave man 
 
 In a famose combatt ; but nowe the same 137 
 
 Treason hathe stayned, to thie^ endlesse shame 
 Of thee and all that honorable race, 
 of whiche thie trecheries haue sought disgrace. i^O 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Didst thou not sarve thie dreade roiall kinge ? 
 and nere^ his person in accounte helde dere. 
 Oh vilde cursed viper ! whye wouldst thou stinge 
 
 or poyson the fountayne that ranne so clere ? 14* 
 
 contente coulde not please thee, it dothe appeare ; 
 But thyne aspiringe ambitiouse pride 
 Bothe wise men doe hate, yee, and fooles deryde ! 1*7 
 
 XXII. 
 
 And nowe thie prowde head orepries that place 
 
 where monstrose treason shoulde haue bene effected ! 
 pittie, so brave a man shoulde wante the grace 
 
 of god and man to bee so reiected, 151 
 
 plottinge cruelties nere before suspected : 
 I meane, the horror thou mentst to bringe 
 vppon thie contrie and thie roiall kinge. 15* 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Thie selfe weare caught in the trappe thou didst laye, 
 
 tane in the snare thou thie selfe devisde. 
 Thie quarters doe stande for foules as a praye, 
 
 thie life thou didst leese^ as a traytor surprisde, 1^8 
 Thie conceytes all dasht, that thou hadst devisde ; 
 Thie head and quarters farr severed doe stande, 
 Devided in sondrye places of the lande. l^l 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Nexte, Catesbye : thou didst playe the wilye catt, P^^f 28.] 
 
 and wearte cheife agente in this wicked treason. 
 Not, naturallie, to spoile the noysome Ratt, 
 
 But moste agaynste kynde, at that Instant season 163 
 Hadst plotted, bothe agaynste pittie and reason, 
 
 Thie kinges confusion and wracke at the leaste ; 1^7 
 whiche showes thou wearte a filthie scratchinge beaste, 
 
 ' the. ' never. " lose. 
 
Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 45 
 
 XXT. 
 
 And wouldst scratohe downe tlie parlament howse 
 
 and all the nobles assembled tbat tyme : 
 Here was a cruell catt to catclie a mouse ! 
 
 Here was the scomme of filthie mudd and slime ! 1^2 
 Here treason shoulde haue bene broacht in the pryme ! 
 But it pleasde god this catt was caught ithe snare. 
 And tangled in the grynne^ or hee was aware ; l^^ 
 
 XXYI. 
 
 And his head likewise elevate dothe stande 
 
 over that place hee woulde haue destroyde, 
 a prospecte to good subiects of the lande 
 
 whome his villanyes woulde fayne haue anoyde ; 1^9 
 But horror his stomake had so overcloyde 
 
 That it Tomyted fovthe his skandalouse shame. 
 To the sole discreditt of Catesbyes name. 182 
 
 xxvn. 
 sir Everarde Digbye ! thou wearte a knight, 
 
 a man whose wisedome shoulde haue tane heede. 
 And wayed howe god dothe defende the right, 
 
 and howe traytors in thende did ever speede, 185 
 
 Desarte had alwayes his desarved meede ; 
 Experience whereof thou longe hadst sene 
 In treasons plotted agaynste owr late Quene. 189 
 
 xxviir. 
 Howe god was still her maiesties defence [leaf 28, back.] 
 
 when traytors sondrye wayes sought her fall, 
 Howe, vnsuspected, hee bewrayde there pretence,^ 
 
 Parrye maye stande an example for all, 193 
 
 His owne feare frettinge so at gall, 
 
 That when hee quiveringe nere her grace did stande. 
 The Dagge^ was redye to fall forthe his hande. l^^ 
 
 SXIX. 
 
 Digbye ! this might haue bene a warninge for thee, 
 
 and to all others of that cursed crewe ! 
 But weale his good happe in tyme coulde not see, 
 and discontente makes manye one to rewe, 
 so become trusties, to there prince vntrewe. 
 Digbye in like predicamente hathe bynne ; 
 Digged a pitt, and hym selfe fell in. 203 
 
 2 intention. ' Pistol. — SaUiwell. 
 
 200 
 
46 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Nexte, Eoberte wynter, Ithe cath[a]loge I fyndej 
 a man whose name Destruction woulde bringe, 
 ■whoe in this action bare a traytrose mynde, 
 
 and woulde destroye the glorye of owr springe, 207 
 
 consentinge to the Deathe of owr roiall kinge ; 
 
 whose boystrose gale shoulde haue blowne suche a blaste. 
 To haue made all Englande othe sodden agaste, 210 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 yep, to haue blowne vpp all without remorse. 
 
 The kinge, Quene, prince, and nobles together, 
 Turnde manye good man vnto a dead corse 
 
 with mangled lymbes. was not this foule weather 214 
 
 when farye shoulde haue hoysted vpp altogether ? 
 This was wynters love and holye zeale ! 
 Suche blastes, lorde, cutt of from this ccmmon weale ! 217 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The nexte is lohn Grante, whoe might grante in-deede Pf^f 
 Hee was a traytor in the highest degree, "■' 
 
 Grantinge in this action his overmuche spede. 
 
 That his good estate in tyme coulde not see : 221 
 
 ambitiouse myndes nere contented bee, 
 as appearde in actions of this Grante, 
 In whose will to treason there was no wante. 2a4 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 And all muste grante that hee deserved deathe 
 
 fibr his attempts in that moste wicked deede. 
 
 That cruellie woulde haue abridged the breathe 
 
 of manye thousandes, if treason coulde spede, ^28 
 
 and manye a mothers cbilde haue made to bleede : 
 Tis generaUie granted hee was vniuste, 
 a vyUayne, a traytor, not worthie of truste» 231 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Bates might in this poynte haue bated an ace, 
 
 that was (as tis sayde) Traytor Catesbies man : 
 Swashbucklers ronne on to there myscheifs apace, 
 
 and forwarde the same asmuche as they can j 235 
 
 There orehastie spede they afterwards ban. 
 To the overthrowe of them and there states, 
 as well appearde by this feUowe Bates. 238 
 
Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 47 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Thouglie men there masters ought trulie to sarve, 
 
 as in dutie tlieye thereunto are bounde, 
 [Yet should they not plot their king's head off to carve^l 
 By treason sekinge there states to confounde, 242 
 
 There kinge and contrie with horror to wounde ; 
 no servants in this ought take his masters parte, 
 leaste Gwerdonde as bates, for his luste desarte. 245 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 nowe another wynter came in the thronge, D^^f 29, back.] 
 
 that blewe his blustringe blastes in this realme, 
 for hee at roome had bene resident longe. 
 
 But came to Infecte this moste sacred stream, 249 
 
 Makinge his brother blowe suche a gleame 
 of treason as never was harde of before : 
 a cruell wynters blaste, that vexte vs sore ! 252 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Weare theise, wynter, the beste fruyts thou couldst bringe, 
 
 I muste nedes confesse thie comfortes weare colde, 
 with thie whirlings wyndes to wither the springe 
 so sone : but that it hathe bene oftymes tolde, 256 
 
 ' Myscheife is ever in all things to bolde.^ 
 proofe in thee, for the broyles thou haste bredd 
 Hathe severde thie quarters farr from thie head. 259 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Thou mightst well haue exclamed on roome^ 
 
 as of thie myserye the fynall cause, 
 where princes are censurde with heavie doome, 
 
 that resiste agaynste there catholicke lawes, 263 
 
 makinge subiects rebell, not takinge pawse, 
 
 nor wayinge what god commandes in his worde, 265 
 " ffeare god, love the kinge," thus scriptures recorde. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Then Rockwood hathe rocked hym selfe faste a-slepe, 
 
 luUed by treason to swete securitie, 
 whose witts weare fyne, and conceites verye depe, 
 
 But blotted and stayned with all Impuritie ; 270 
 
 whose harte was fraughted^ with obduritie. 
 That hee those vyllanyes putt in vre,* 
 Contries ruyne by ia-eason to procure. 273 
 
 A line left blank in the MS. ^ freighted, fraught. ' use, practice. 
 
48 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Eockwood was namde to bee an Esquier, [leaf 30.] 
 
 and one that might haue lived in good sorte : 
 and Rockinge ambition blewe the fyer 
 
 That kindled the scandall of ill reporte, 277 
 
 and of trewe allegiance batterde the forte : 
 Poperye so pufte hym with discontente. 
 That his posteritie shall ever repente. 280 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Then came keyes, a gentelman by discente, 
 a notable papiste, so longe tyme knowne : 
 Subversion of the state was his intente, 
 as by the seedes appeare, w/iich hee hatha sowne j 284 
 whoe mente at randome all downe haue mowne, 
 Grovermente and state, thus they had decreede : 
 keyes was an agente, and forwarde ia the deede. 287 
 
 XLir. 
 This keyeSj of treason opened the locke 
 
 whiche keyes of lustice shoulde haue kepte shutt. 
 In sekinge to remove the surest rocke. 
 
 To whose hande the sworde of auctoritie is putt, 291 
 at whose life this traytor made his butt : 
 
 But in theise demeans hee made suche greate haste. 
 The keyes of lustice haue his life defaceste. 294 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Nowe laste, thoughe firste of Balams broode. 
 
 Came Gwido vaux, the moste tyranose man, 
 and one whose glorye was spillinge of blood, 
 
 and the onelie agente this mischeife beganne, 298 
 
 And verye Instr[u]ment whome all men maye banne. 
 Hee, to all of this storye shalbe teller, 
 Maye well be calde the Devill in the celler. 301 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Hee in His celler a trappe had planted, [leaf 30, back.] 
 
 Herowtth to haue spoilde the moste noble blood. 
 In whome nor prudence nor mercye wanted, 
 
 whoe is sole defender of brittaynes good, 303 
 
 agaynste whome this furye raysde the flood. 
 Worse then Oateline raysde at roome ; 
 But sone confounded by gods mightie doome. 308 
 
Acchmatio Patria, or the Powder Treasons, 49 
 
 XLT. 
 
 O traytrose ludas ! or farr worse tien hee, 
 whoe for love of pelfe did Ms master betraye I 
 aux, so blynded withe poperie^ coulde not see 
 Immyneiit dangers of that dreadfull daye, 312 
 
 where manye thousands shoulde sighe well-awaye ! 
 Hee was pardonde, destruction to bringe 
 vppon his contrie and his roiall kinge. 315 
 
 XLYI. 
 
 And when hee was tane, the rellicks weare founde, — 
 
 as a hayrie shurte^ with other popishe trashOj — 
 and hee in wordes as a traytor vnsounde, 
 
 whiche caused lustice whipp sorer w^th his lashe ; 319 
 The Horror of his actes did good stomakes abashe. 
 But at laste, when popishe helpes had no hope, 
 Hee made his laste ende in a hempen rope. 322 
 
 XL VII. 
 
 Was ever suche trecherie harde of before ? 
 
 yet Bnglande, traytors at all tymes hathe bredd ; 
 But of this consorte there weare suche greate store, 
 whoe in confusion had gatherde to a hedd, 326 
 
 Beinge all perswaded they shoulde haue spedd. 
 But see the mercye and love of our god ! 
 ffor mercye and mallice are things farr odd. 329 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 When thinges weare sorted to a full effecte, P^af 31.] 
 
 and the tyme nowe come that was appoynted, 
 asld all thinges planted without suspecte. 
 
 To haue made awaye the lordes anoynted, 333 
 
 and all vnion in sender haue ioynted. 
 
 Even then, a letter contayninge fewe lynes, 
 
 By one of them written, all vndermynes ! 336 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 happie hande that did write the same, 
 
 thoughe theffecte proved agaynste his mynde ! 
 yet glorified bee gods sacred name ! 
 
 for thereby wee did preservation fynde, 340 
 
 owrei lives preserved from these cormorants kynde, 
 That withe fyer and powder woulde [have] vs anoyde, 
 and in an Instante haue Bnglande destroyde. 343 
 
 » fMS. 
 III. E 
 
50 Acclamatio Patria, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 L. 
 
 Tlien liad approaclite oure desolation ! 
 
 ruyne and murther had bene redye preste I 
 Then Eoome, withe all her abhomynation,' 
 
 woulde once agayne on highe avance her creste, 347 
 and all godlie lawes shoulde haue bene depreste ! 
 In amplest sorte^ without condition, 
 Cruellye executed there commyssion ! 350 
 
 LI. 
 
 Then widowes shoulde haue waylde there husbands wante, 
 
 and children haue wayled for there fathers dead. 
 Mothers for children which theye woulde supplante. 
 Sisters for brothers manye a teare haue shedd, 354 
 
 Manye fathers haue gone with greife to there bedd 
 ffor losse of there sonnes, whome crueltie kilde ! 356 
 muche Innocent blood shoulde then haue bene spilde, 
 
 LII. 
 
 All recordes of lawes as then defaced, [leaf 31, tack.] 
 
 all precedents likewise shoulde haue bene burned. 
 Counselors ludges and clarkes disgraced, 
 
 and there former hopes to sorrows turned ; 361 
 
 yee, all good men with greife haue mourned 
 To see the desolation of theise dayes, 
 where myscheife had Ti'yvmphed so manye wayes ! 364 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Then haue wee not cause to prayse our god, 
 
 whoe from theise dangers hathe vs preserved, 
 and fre [e] d vs from this heavie smartinge rodd 
 
 of suche traytors as from dutie swarved ? 368 
 
 and like sawcye mates they woulde haue carved 
 of manye good men bothe there goods & life : 
 yee, one small letter hathe barde this strife. 371 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Here was the wisedome of owr god to bee sene ! 
 
 Here mans owne wisedome was proved but vayne ! 
 Here, where so manye consultations had bene. 
 
 Here to plott and practise there witts they strayne, 375 
 Here, marke by there vyllanyes what they gayne ! 
 a trappe they had layde, and bayted a gynne. 
 Thee hooke they swallowed, and pitt they fell in ! 378 
 
 ' Cp. The Fal of the Romish Church, with al tlu) abhominations, black letter, 
 in Lamtotli Library. 
 
Acclamatio Patria, or the Powder Treasons. 51 
 
 LV. 
 
 And so by lustice liaue repte there desartes, 
 and gwerdon due to suclie mercyles men : 
 Hanged and quartred^ and there traytrose hartes 
 
 Withe bowells and members burned^ and then 382 
 
 There bodyes butcherde in sight of manye men, 
 That greatlie did lamente there lacke of grace. 
 That by treason woulde there glorye deface. 385 
 
 LTX. 
 
 The treasons that Babington once Invented, Peaf 32.] 
 
 withe yowrs in no sorfce might bee comparde ! 
 Theye to the Deathe of there Quene consented ; 
 
 you aymde at all — a crueltie never harde ! 389 
 
 all sparkes of christianytie debarde. 
 
 The kinge, Quene, prince, and nobles fynall doome ! 
 Suche bee the fruytes that bee plotted at roome, 3^2 
 
 LVII. 
 
 And hither are sente to bee Ingrafted 
 
 By lesuytes ithe hartes of good mens mynde ! 
 ani manye other dreggs are hether wafted 
 
 of superstition, mens hartes to blynde, 396 
 
 Oausinge them to poperye [to] bee Inclinde : 
 So, by wicked Bellamytes''-' perswation. 
 They Hassarde the Danger of there salvation, 399 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 And are Egged on to treason like case, 
 
 bothe agaynste kinge and contrie to rebell, 
 Sekinge the Image of god to deface : 
 
 what is donne agaynste hym, all is well ! 403 
 
 loe, theise bee the fruytes of that romyshe hell ! 
 and when [their] soules are secluded^ gods glorye. 
 Then will they fishe for them in purgatorye. 406 
 
 LIX. 
 
 But that rotten stafie is disfavorde quite, 
 
 and hope of purgatorye out of requeste ; 
 no wise men in suche things will take delite ; 
 
 w*th suche heavie burthens theyele not bee prest ; 410 
 There hope is ' oure god hathe purchacste the reste 
 of repentante synfuU soules after deathe,'' 
 Purgatorye longe synce hunted out of breathe. 413 
 
 * f Bedlamites or Balaamites : tlie Jesuits, Garnet, Oldcome, etc. ^ sliut out of. 
 
52 Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Saynte ffrancis maye faste, firste auditor of the samoj P^af 32, 
 of whiche hee ever hatlie bene the cheife proppe, *" ■-' 
 But nowe waxte olde, decripitt and lame. 
 
 His requiem masses downe are lopte, 417 
 
 The zeale of gods truthe that streame hathe stopte ; 
 That scarbugge^ which, did so manye affright. 
 By triall of truthe is quyte put to flight ; 420 
 
 LXI. 
 
 And, good bee praysde, all yowr popishe trashe 
 
 accounted as thinges frivolose and vayne ; 
 your eare-confession, and suche myshe-mashe 
 
 of filthie vilde dreggs, gods glorye to stayne, 424 
 
 By whiche to yowr state you horded vpp gayne. 
 Is quite from brittayne banyshed awaye, 
 ffrustrate yowr hopes, and you haue loste the daye, 427 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Yee, the greate daye of yowr expectation ! 
 
 and yo«r hopes all turned to darkest night. 
 Wherein shoulde haue bene suche Innovation 
 
 agaynste nature, agaynste equitie and right, 431 
 
 If yowr devises haue prevayled might, 
 
 when one of yowr crewe, and with you accurste, 
 Thoughe agaynste his will, revealde it at firste, 434 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 And by his written letter hathe taught you to preache, 
 
 what doctryne, the whole wordle knoweth to well, 
 veryfyinge what you before did teache. 
 
 In catholicke errors to make men dwell, 438 
 
 Teachinge the waye that leadeth to hell : 
 yowr pulpitt was a Gibbett raysed on hie, 
 whereon for treason you weare ludged to dye, 441 
 
 liXlV. 
 
 A pulpitt where manye haue preached before, [leaf 33.] 
 
 that haue bene traytors agaynst kinge and state. 
 God grante, I praye, there never bee more, 
 
 withe you so puffed withe wordlie hate, 445 
 
 But that there Rigor maye in some sorte bate,' 
 or like sicke Horses, to cure the fallose,' 
 God sende you all maye preache on the gallose, 448 
 
 ' Scare-goblin, or -bugbear ; Hbe ecare-cro-w. ^ ^^^ijate, 
 
 ' Fellon, a disease in cows : f clone, a sore or whitlow. — MalliweU. 
 
4-Cclam,atio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 53 
 
 As some of them of late weare forced to preache 
 
 In pawles churchyardsj weste parte of the same. 
 Where a Highe Gibbett farr above owr retohe 
 
 was there elevated on a wooden frame, ^52 
 
 and to see them there manye thousands came : 
 Sir Bverarde Digbye, hee repentant dyde. 
 But on the Oatholyke faithe hee still relyde. 455 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Then preacht wynter, Grrante, and Bates like case ; 
 
 But one selfe doctryne they agreede vppon. 
 There pulpitt to papistes a foule disgrace, 
 
 that weare there in place spectators on ; ■*59 
 
 There wante of grace bewaylde of manye one, 
 I meane, good subiects of Towne and cittie 
 That shedd brynishe teares for there soules pittie. 462 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Thexecutioners playde there butchringe partes 
 
 as Justice had doomde, and ludgment had paste, 
 and traytors gwerdonde for there desarte, 
 
 The rewarde of trecherye payde at laste ; 466 
 
 for they muste nedes fall that ronne in suche haste 
 Into the gulphe of Iminent Dangers, 
 That to allegiance become suche strangers 469 
 
 IXVIII. 
 
 As did theise foure herebefore recited, [leaf 33, back.] 
 
 and all the reste of that vilde faction : 
 at there fall I knowe papistes are spited, 
 
 ffor manye weare prevye to the action 473 
 
 whose lives haue not yet made sabisfaction ; 
 
 leaste' theye repente there purpose in this case, 
 God sonde them preache on some suche like place. 476 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Then to westmynster other foure weare drawne 
 
 on Hurdells throughe london, to there disgrace. 
 To the olde pallace where treason was sowne ; 
 
 there was elevated there preachinge place, 480 
 
 where wynter, firste of that rebelliose race, 
 
 preacht popishe doctryne to confirme his faith [e] ; 
 But the Hangman quicklie stopped his breathe. 4S3 
 
 1 unless. 
 
54 Acclamatio Fairies, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 ITS.. 
 
 Then Died Eockwoode, Vaux, and keyes tie laste, 
 
 all on the same pulpitt made there endes ; 
 But with hangmans helpe there paynes weare sone paste j 
 There deathes a corsyve to there popishe frends, 487 
 and a comforte to suche as the welfare intends. 
 And to kinge and contrie wishe all good, 
 livinge in dutie, not thirstinge for blood, 490 
 
 LXSI. 
 
 All theise traytors that before are named, 
 
 with others by lustice doomde in like cases, 
 whose aspiringe mynde the gallose hathe tamde. 
 
 In Worcester, stafforde-shere, and suche like places, 494 
 where theise traytors lurkinge hydd there faces, 
 Thoughe covertlie hyd, yet founde out at laste. 
 And with theise in rancke deserve to be placeste. 497 
 Lrsii. 
 Stephen litleton, thou hadst cause to repente ! P^^^ ^4.] 
 
 thie howse was receptakle of the reste. 
 God grante thie trecherie thou didst lamente, 
 
 and that contrition harborde in thie breste j 501 
 
 ffor in theise actions thou weare to preste ;^ 
 ifor in Holbage howse thou didst receve them, 
 and ronnynge awaye, as a praye didst leave them. 504 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 And percye and Catesbye bothe there weare kilde. 
 
 Withe twoe of the Wrights, and others I not name ; 
 Muche traytrose blood that tyme there was spilde. 
 
 That never to triall of lu&tice came ; 508 
 
 The Desperate vyllaynes had vowed the same, 
 never to bee tane, and by lustice tryde, 
 what hassarde so ere there fortunes did byde. 511 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 But tis thought there bee some of greater states 
 
 that haue bene agents and Dealers therein : 
 Tis pittie that ever by suche base mates 
 
 they shoulde bee counselde^ to suche deadlie synne, 515 
 Or that anye peere shoulde bee sene therein. 
 To ecklipse the glorye of Honored fame, 
 and bee scandalizde with touche of the same j 518 
 ' Eeady. ^ MS. oomselde. 
 
Acclamatio Patrim, or the Powder Treasons. 55 
 
 Lxrv. 
 ffor greate is the maiestie of Eoiall kinges, 
 
 that here vppon earthe gods vicegerents bee ! 
 There lookes to trecherye are fearfull stinges ; 
 
 There eyes, like Argus, to beholde and see, 522 
 
 even to there myndes that good subiects bee. 
 ffrom those that seke maiestie to betraye, 
 Hee treason can fynde, and the same bewraye. 525 
 
 LXXYI. 
 
 God grante all [these] subiects example maye bee W^^ 34, 
 to all others, hereafter to beware, tack.] 
 
 The saftio of there states to beholde and see, 
 
 and of allegiance haue a speciall care, 529 
 
 leaste the like gwerdon fall to there share ; 
 So generallie wishinge all to take hede, 
 Theye in aftertymes the better maye spede. 532 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 The guylte of the harte is knowne by the eye : 
 
 althoughe traytors connynglie dissemble. 
 The wisedome of princes can sone aspie 
 
 out those secrett ; for feare makes them tremble, 536 
 and there guyltie consciences to wemble.-"^ 
 There outwarde countnances then bewraye^ 
 What theye^ haue thought, or tonges can saye. 539 
 
 IXXVIII. 
 
 A conscience clere, no prerogative needs, — 
 
 loe, here is the wisedome of our good god ! — ■ 
 when corrupted myndes with there horror bleedes. 
 
 Thus truthe and villanye are things farr odd, 513 
 
 The one withe love, the other with lustice rodd ; 
 Thus bothe are gwerdonde in thende, wee see : 
 Then whoe woulde venter a traytor to bee ? 546 
 
 LXSIX. 
 
 Whie, none but fooles that haue loste there witts, 
 and wasted out the same on foolishe toyes, 
 
 ' Wcmbk, to turn a cup upside down in token of having liad enough tea, 
 (Northern ;) Wamble, to roll, to rumble, {Halliwell ;) to moTe in an undula- 
 ting maimer, {Jamieson ;) to rise up as seething water does, to wriggle like 
 an Arrow in the Air. {Kersey's Philipps.) 
 
 2 MS. hewaraye. '' MS. there. 
 
56 Acdamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 
 
 So then will venter on suche franticke fitts, 
 
 and woulde thereby abridge other mens ioyes, 550 
 
 See here^ the sequell proves there owne anoyes ! 
 This tale of treason and her sadd storye, 
 of manye a man hathe dymmde the glorye, 553 
 
 IiXXS. 
 
 And alwayes hathe, synce the wordle beganne, P^^^ 35.] 
 
 that eve in parradise did Adam betraye, 
 whiche was the ruyne of the state of man. 
 
 To all posterities the sole decaye 557 
 
 till god in mercy e washte the. same awaye : 
 onelie by the deathe of his beloved soune 
 Brusinge the Serpents head, owr ioyes begonne. 560 
 
 Lxxxr. 
 
 So that the Devill the firste traytor was, 
 
 thoughe transformed into an angeU bright,^ 
 Intendinge subtellie to bringe to passe, 
 
 By polecye turninge dai-knes to light, 564 
 
 That for Imitacion all others might 
 Slilye goe aboute when they tyranise, 
 or with an Intente myscheife to devise. 567 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 So when anye man to myscheife is bente, 
 
 withe full resolve to prosecute the same. 
 His master is preste^ to forwarde his Intente, 
 
 Ats^ elbowe egginge hym, devoyde of shame, 571 
 
 Makinge hym worke in destructions frame 
 The webbe* of woe, to overthrowe his state 
 By murther and treason, w/iich god dothe hate. 574 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 But now, you sacred muses, guyde my penne ! 
 
 Devyne Minerva, rule my artlesse^ quill. 
 That I maye sett forthe to the vewe of all men 
 
 His worthe, whoe farr surpasseth my small skill, 578 
 yet will expresse a loiall subiects will 
 To eternyze here his deserved fame, 
 Terrifyinge traytors at sounde of the same I 581 
 
 ' Originally of light. ^ Ready. ' At his. 
 
 - MS. weble. » Unskilful. 
 
Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 57 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 ffirste, hees religiouse : ttats knowne well : [leaf 35, back.] 
 
 to sett fertile gods glorye, his speciall care, 
 wliat paynes hee takes therein, tlie wordle can tell ; 
 what metings and assemblies hee did prepare, 585 
 
 To haue things reformed, thought out of square. 
 Where his maiestie in presence did sytt 
 Hearinge controversies, for a kinge moste fitt. 5^8 
 
 LXXSV. 
 
 Then hees mercifall, and no rigor showes, 
 
 all crueltie Bannyshed from his harte : 
 His bountie and love, whoe is it but knowes ? 
 
 In amplest wise gwerdonynge trewe desarte, 592 
 
 and vnto subiectes dothe eache waye Imparte j 
 
 yee, of stubbome papistes hathe stayde the leasure ; 
 But theyle bee reformed at there owne pleasure, 595 
 
 LXXSVI. 
 
 Or els by treason will cutt out there waye, 
 
 and so Intrude on his highnes favor, 
 of hym and his sekinge the sole decaye. 
 
 Dothe this of good religion savor ? 699 
 
 no ! obstinate men ! you doe but glavor^ ! 
 
 where his highnes seekes jouv quiett and peace, 
 you onelie seeke his sorrowes to Increase ! 602 
 
 LXXSVII. 
 
 Hee is also called the prince of peace, 
 
 ffor whiche all nations to hym haue sente. 
 In leauge^ with all princes, olde quarrells ceasse ; 
 
 Quyet of his contrie hatha eache waye menf e. 606 
 
 But aspiringe myndes are never contente. 
 
 If an angell from heaven hither came downe 608 
 
 To rule here ia earthe, and weare Brittaynes crowne. 
 
 liXXSVIII. 
 
 What vertues in anye kinge hathe ever bene, Peaf 36.] 
 
 but in his maiestie wee maye fynde them ? 
 Takinge patrone from ouv late blessed Queue, 
 
 ' to sooth up, or fawn upon. — Kersey's Phillips ; to flatter. — Nans. ' league. 
 III. I' 
 
58 Acdamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons, 
 
 vnto whose love liee ever combynde tym, 613 
 
 and shee in like love did ever mynde hym, 
 as beinge trewe heire of lier roiaU racBj 
 Endowed bothe -with her vertues and gra[ce]. 616 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 Hee is also wise, hee is luste and learned, 
 
 provident and carefull for subiects [g]ood; 
 whose wisedome, withe sallomon, bathe [disce]med 
 whoe is the right childe of Harlotts b [lood] ; 620 
 
 whose learnynge, the truthe sone vnderstoode 
 without devydinge the same a-sonder. 
 To gods glorye and oure greate wonder. 623 
 
 xc. 
 
 Hee is likewise provident for the poore, 
 
 restrayninge the cfenckers of his common-wealths 
 That vagarantlie begg from dore to dore, 
 
 thoughe still they wander vpp and downe by stealthe ; 62V 
 and for maymed souldiers provided healthe, 
 and stipens^ in places for them to live. 
 In all shores^ the contries doe pentions give. 630 
 
 xci. 
 
 Hee mayntaynes Hospitalls for the disseasde, 
 
 where the sicke are healde, the lame are cured j 
 But mall-contented myndes are never pleasde, 
 
 when withe ambition theye bee in-vred, 634 
 
 a Dissease that never can bee cured, 
 
 Tis so puffed with hate, and [with] furye dothe swell. 
 It often drawes downe the sicke soule to hell. 637 
 
 XCII. 
 
 Nowe to conclude, or^ I haue well begonne [leaf 36, lack.] 
 
 to prayse his vertue that dothe prayse surmounte, 
 leaste I shoulde darken the glorye of the sonne, 
 
 whose fame is boundlesse, passinge my accounts, 641 
 vnlesse withe phaeton I presume to mounte. 
 To rule don phebus steedes and fyrye carr. 
 That where I shoulde make I shalbe* sure to marre. 644 
 
 ' stipends. ' shires. 
 
 » before. < MS. shalle. 
 
Acclamatio Patrice, or the Powder Treasons. 59 
 
 xcm. 
 
 [G]od blesse and preserve this ouv roiall klnge ! 
 [And fro] m traytrose practises defende hjm, 
 [In wL.] ose harte trewe contente mays daylie springe j 
 [A lo]nge and happie raygne ore vs god sende hym ! 648 
 confounde all suclie as evill pretende^ hym ! 
 
 God blesse OMr Quene, princej and nobles of the lande ! 
 protecte them, swete lesus, with thie mightie hande ! 
 
 Amen ! 652 
 
 Lorde, I am bolde on thie mercyes to persever : 
 poore -Williams thus dothe praye, and will doe ever. 
 
 finis— E. W. 
 
 ' Fr. pretendre, aime at . . lay or put in for; also, to meane; intend. — Cot- 
 grme. 
 
[If any readers feel that "]poore wilUams's " flunteyism 
 is as bad as his versOj let them remember how much of that 
 quality there was in England in James's time ; let them com- 
 pare A Prophecye in the Percy Folio Ballads and Romances, 
 ui. 372-3j and think that, as WiUiams was evidently beg- 
 ging for reliefj he may be excused for laying on the praise 
 and glory thick enough to suit James's taste. E. W. was 
 no worse than hundreds of divines and statesmen of his 
 day.— F. J. F.] 
 
61 
 
 ©f (ZEOtoarti, Dufec of 'Bofepngam. 
 
 In these verses we have the threnody of the unfortunate Duke 
 of Buckingham, put to death at the beginning of the reign of 
 Henry YIII. The charges upon which he suffered appear to" 
 have been absolutely devoid of proof. Among others, he was 
 accused of aspiring to the crown in 1511, and with consulting 
 a certain Nicholas Hopkins (a Carthusian monk, who pretended 
 to be a necromancer) on the subject of the King's death, He was 
 executed May 17, 1521. 
 
 The account of his trial as given by Holinshed is very fresh 
 and graphic, and was evidently familiar to Shakspere when he 
 wrote the scene so well known to the readers of Henry VHI. 
 
 _ " Thus was this prince duke of Buckingham found giltie of 
 high treason, by a duke, a marques, seven earles, and twelve 
 barons. The duke was brought to the barre sore chafing, and 
 swet marveUouslie ; and after he had made his reverence he 
 paused a while. The duke of Norffolke, as judge, said : ' Sir 
 Edward, you have heard how you be indicted of high treason ; 
 you pleaded thereto not giltie, putting your selfe to the peeres 
 of the realme, which have found you giltie.' Then the duke of 
 Norffolke wept and said : ' You shall be led to the king's prison, 
 and there laid on a hardle, and so drawne to the place of execu- 
 tion, and there be hanged, cut downe alive, your members cut 
 off and cast into the fire, your bowels burnt before you, your 
 head smitten off, and your bodie quartered and divided at the 
 king's will, and God have mercie on your soule. Amen.' 
 
 " The duke of Buckingham said : ' My lord of Norffolke, you 
 have said as a traitor should be said unto, but I was never anie : 
 but, my lords, I nothing maligne for that you have doone to me, 
 but the eternall God forgive you my death, and I doo : I shall 
 never sue to the king for life, howbeit he is a gratious prince, 
 and more grace may come from him than I desire. I desire you, 
 my lords, and all my fellows, to pray for me.' Then was the 
 edge of the axe turned towards him, and he led into a barge. 
 Sir Thomas Lovell desired him to sit on the cushins and carpet 
 ordeined for him. He said : ' Nay ; for when I went to West- 
 minster I was duke of Buckingham, now I am but Edward 
 Bohune, the most caitife of the world.' Thus they landed at the 
 Temple, where received him Sir Nicholas Vawse and Sir William 
 Sands, baronets,' and led him through the citie, who desired ever 
 
 ' sic in the original. Query " bannerets," 
 III. a 
 
62 The Duhe of Bmldngham's Lament. 
 
 the people to pray for him,, of whome some wept and lamented, 
 and said : ' This is the end of evill life, God forgive him ; he was 
 a proud prince, it is pitie that he behaved him so against his 
 king and liege lord, whome God preserve.' Thus about foure of 
 the clocke he was brought as a cast man to the- Tower." 
 
 Such was the end of this unfortunate man, the head of whose 
 family had been sent for generations to the shambles. See 
 Shakspere's Henry VIII., Act II. Scene 1. 
 
 Of the twenty- two stanzas of the ballad, nineteen ryme the 
 second and fourth lines in -ess. 
 
 [Harl. MS. 2252, leaf 2, back.] 
 
 I. 
 Alas ! to whom shuld I cwwplayne/ 
 
 or shewe my wofutt heyvynes, 
 Sythe fortune hathe me in dysdayne, 
 
 & am exiled, Remedy les ? 
 
 II. 
 o flateryng fortune ! I May the Caft ; 
 
 thy Ohaungebytt chawce I caw expres ; 
 moste lykeste A wreche vnnaturatt, 
 
 jjou haste exiled, Remediles. 
 
 III. 
 Alas ! Alas ! remediles ! 
 
 put am I to mortaii dystres ! 
 exilyd for evyr, Remedyles, 
 
 by Cawtellttiewt, & remediles ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Art thow A god ? or by whose lawws 
 
 doste take on J>^ suche enterprise, 
 to take on the w«tA-owte A Cawse, 
 
 whyche yet dyd never preiudyse ? 
 
 V. 
 
 Leva of Y woe to wreke on me. 
 
 To leve A lady all Cowfortles ; 
 hyt ys no poynte of chevalry, 
 
 nor yet no Towche of lentylnes. 
 
 ' In the MS., several of the final letters, as s, m, n, f, d, have a curl or tag, 
 but thay appear to belong to the flourish of the hand. 
 
The Duke of Buckingham's Lament. 63 
 
 VI. 
 
 I say Adew ! but not farwett ! 
 
 False, flaterywg, fortune, wM dobylnes 
 Thow haste exilyd, whych dyd exsett, 
 
 The Chefe refuge of my dystres. 
 
 VII. 
 
 god, jjfft aft Ji?8 world hathe wrowghte ! 
 
 whom shuld I tryste? whych be perforce, 
 That I Browght vppe & made of nowghte 
 
 haJ3® me Acusyd, Kemedyles. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 ensampytt by me All lordes may Take, 
 to whom \er myndes they do exprese ; 
 
 on, of my Counceft ]iat I dyd make, 
 hsJp" me Acusyd, remedyles. 
 
 IX. 
 
 defawte in my prynce can I none fynde, 
 hys lawys to vse •with Ryghtwysenes ; 
 
 In them ^at contrary he dojj^ fynde, 
 To correcte them, remedyles. 
 
 X. 
 
 for, no dowte, dethe haue I deseruyd ; 
 
 good lord, to J?^ I me confesse ; 
 thy grace in me was not Eegardyd, 
 
 Therfor I dye now remedyles. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Sumtyme my name was farawslye sprede, 
 
 A duke Ryatt, in ]>ia land pereles ; 
 & nowe, Alas ! lost ys tny hede, 
 
 exilyd for evyr, Eemedyles ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 N'ow take I my dethe here paciently ; 
 
 hyt bothyth ^ me not to make no stryffe. 
 Was I never false to the kyng nor Jj® Crowne, 
 
 but only to myn owne lady & wyffe. 
 
 ' booteth, advantages. 
 
 g2 
 
64 The Duke of Buckingham's Lament. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 for-gyve me, lady, as ])ou wold forgevyw be ! 
 
 my paynws here they be full thycke. 
 pray ye for me ! and I wyll pray for yow Agayne, 
 
 & yf Jj^ dede may pray for >° quykc[ke]. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And nowe, farweB myne owne lady swete ! 
 
 my paynws styll they do Increse ; 
 I truste ons Agayne yow & I shall mete, 
 
 & never to be exilyd, Remedyles. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Adew, my lady & wyfe ! 
 
 And Comforte jour selfe in hevynes ; 
 for to beweyle the losse of my lyfe, 
 
 To me hyt ys remedyles. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 o ye nobyll lordes & ladys fayre ! 
 
 pray to ower kyng, In my dystresse 
 To be gram(s to my wyfe, chylder, & myne Ayre, 
 
 ]>at he exile them not Remedyles. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 for, of my fawte no thynge they knowe ; 
 
 ower lord god take I to wytnesse ! 
 vnto ]>er kyng bothe fay thfuft & Trew ,• 
 
 Exile them not Remedyles. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Therfor, Adew, my lordes aft ! 
 
 The darte of d.e]>^ me [dothe] oppresse, 
 for to cowplayne of my mortaft fatt, 
 
 To me hyt ys remedyles. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Farweft, my good frendcs, & seruantes trewe ! 
 
 I pray yow all of lentylnes. 
 To pray to ower lord Cryste lesu, 
 
 to haue mercy of my wrechydnes. 
 
The Duke of Buckingham's Lament. 65 
 
 XX. 
 
 Now where ys he Thys dede do shaft ? — 
 
 geve me leve to speke whyle I haue brethe ; — 
 
 here, before ]iis lordes aft, 
 
 hertely here I forgeve Y ™y dethe. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 In Manws tuas, I commewd me tp the, lesu ! 
 
 my body ys here in ]iis dystresse. 
 now, good lord, as Jjou arte A lustes trewe, 
 
 exile not my pore sowle, remedyles ! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 lesvL ! Reward them bothe bodely & goostlye, 
 
 from alle aduersyte & grete dystresse, 
 \at wyll pray for the sowle of the dwke of bokyngam, 
 
 jjat late was exiled remedyles. 
 
66 
 
 POEMS RELATING TO QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 In the following poems, although perhaps few of them can boast 
 of any considerable literary merit, we have a lively picture pre- 
 sented to us of the Maiden Queen, and the estimation in which 
 she was held by her contemporaries. Despite many personal 
 foibles, and a Tudor-like tendency to rule with the strong hand, 
 there can be no doubt that Elizabeth was popular among her 
 subjects : her natural good sense taught her when to stop in her 
 efforts to enforce any of her arbitrary measures : she calculated 
 the pulse of the nation, and kept its beatings regular. If we 
 were to trust the panegyrics written during her reign, she was 
 a paragon of eveiy excellence — intellectual and moral; and 
 mercenary poets were not unwilling to see all conceivable 
 beauties in a woman of seventy, whose cheeks were resplendent 
 with paint, and whose head was bedecked with a red wig. 
 
 Such was the Britomart and Grloriana of Spenser : the heroine 
 of whom Ealeigh and Essex were knight-errants. The anonymous 
 versifiers, some of whose productions are here for the first time 
 printed, spoke of her as a Venus and Minerva : in her youth she 
 may have had some remote claims to the former appellation; 
 throughout her whole life she might have assumed the latter 
 title with no great inconsistency. With considerable penetration, 
 a ready wit, and a wonderful power of selecting able and suitable 
 agents for her purposes, — witness the brilliant men who composed 
 her court, — she was also a woman of considerable reading, and 
 the mistress of many languages. Elizabeth affected a taste for 
 philological pursuits. Jerome Horsey, the celebrated ambassador 
 to Eussia, tells us that when he came back to England, and showed 
 Her Majesty the letter received from the terrible Ivan Vasilievitch, 
 — the annals of whose reign in. the bloody fasti of Muscovy seem 
 more than usually besmirched, — the Queen looked with great 
 curiosity at the words in the Slavonic tongue, adding, " I could 
 quicklie lern it." He also tells us that she asked " if such and 
 such letters and asseveracions had not this signification," etc. 
 The poets who praised her linguistic acquirements had probably 
 some good ground for their representations. We know that 
 ■female education in those days was a solid affair, and had little 
 in common with the mincing elegancies held sufficient by modern 
 society. Camden tells us that "before she was seventeen years of 
 age, she understood well the Latin, French, and Italian tongues, 
 and had an indifferent knowledge of the Greek." 
 
The Polish Ambassador. — Anj'ou a Suitor, 67 
 
 Eoger Ascham has recorded her proficiency in the latter lan- 
 guage ("Epistolarum Libri Quatuor Oxoniie," mdociii., p. 52, 
 Letter to Joannes Sturmius) — 
 
 " Si aves scire, quidnam rerum ago in Aula, jntelligas nunquam miM magis 
 optatum otium ooncessum fuisse in Academia; quara nunc est in Regia D. 
 Elizabetha et ego una legimus Greece orationes ^schinis et Demosthenis irfpl 
 STciftii'ou. lUa prselegit mihi et primo aspectu tam scienter intelligit, non 
 solum proprietatem linguae, et oratoris sensum : sed totam caussse contentionem, 
 populi scita, consuetudinem, et mores illius urbis, ut summopere admirareis." 
 
 This is a large measure of praise, unless, as is perhaps too often 
 the case, the schoolmaster is wholly lost in the courtier. The 
 story of the arrival of the Polish ambassador, Paul Dzialinski, 
 ■who was sent by Sigismund II. in 1597, is well known. He was 
 a man of stately presence, and appeared in an elaborate suit of 
 black velvet; on being introduced before the Queen, he made 
 a long oration in Latin, complaining of the wars between the 
 English and Spaniards, whereby he asserted that the commerce 
 of Poland was seriously injured. In reply, Elizabeth broke out 
 into a vehement tirade in excellent Latin, in which, as Speed says, 
 "lionlike, rising, she danted the malapert orator no less with her 
 stately port and majestical deporture, than with the tartness of 
 her princely checks.'.' 
 
 Of her poetical talents Master George Puttenham speaks with no 
 little praise, although perhaps his critical powers are somewhat 
 blunted by a courtier's adulation : " I finde none example that 
 euer I could see, so well maintayning this figure in English 
 meetre as that ditty of her Maiesties owne making, passing 
 Bweete and harmonicall, which figure begins as his very originall 
 name purporteth the most bewtifull and gorgions of all others, 
 it asketh in reason to be reserued for a last complement, and 
 desciphred by the arte of a ladies penne, her selfe beyng the 
 most gorgious and bewtifull, or rather bewtie of Qiieenes." 
 
 Some of the poems have reference to the suit of Anjou, the 
 brother of Henry III. of France, whose visit to England in 
 1581 had almost resulted in the loss of the Queen's heart. She 
 was then in her forty-seventh year, and before the whole as- 
 sembled court was seen to take a ring from her finger and place 
 it upon his, as that of her affianced lover. On the following 
 morning, however, her suitor found her anxious and weeping, and 
 she then told him that on advising with her council, she had 
 again made up her mind never to marry. On returning to his 
 apartments the Duke, mortified and stung to the quick, is said to 
 have uttered many sententious speeches on the wayward wills of 
 women, and to have flung the ring of betrothal to the winds. 
 He returned to France, and soon afterwards died. 
 
68 Stubbs loses his right hand. 
 
 Elizabeth, who, as we have before mentioned, occaBionally 
 ventured upon composition, did not allow Anjou to depart with- 
 out a poetic lamentation. In the following verses, preserved in 
 the Ashmolean Collection, her feelings found vent : — 
 
 [ABh. MS. 781, p. 142.] 
 " I greive, and dare not shewe my discontent ; 
 I love, and yet am forst to seeme to hate ; 
 I do, yet dare not say I ever meant ; 
 
 I seem starke mute, but inwardly do prate ; 
 I am, and not ; I freese, and yet am burn'd, 
 Since from myself, my otter self I tum'd. 
 " My care is like my shaddowe in the sunne, 
 Followes me fliinge, flies when I pursue it ; 
 Standes and lies by me, doth what I have don ; 
 
 His too familiar care doth make rae me it : 
 No meanes I finde to rid him from my brest. 
 Till by the end of thinges it be supprest. 
 " Some gentler passions slide into my rainde. 
 For I am softe, and made of melting snowe j 
 Or be more cruell. Love, and soe be kynd, 
 
 Let me or flote, or sinke, be high or lowe : 
 Or let me live with some more sweete content ; 
 Or dye, and soe forget what love ere meant. 
 
 " Eliza Eegina, upon Mounzeui's departure." 
 
 It was well for the country in every way that the marriage 
 never took place. The Duke, an unamiable and selfish man, the 
 degraded scion of the most iufamous line of kings which has 
 ever occupied the French throne, was only known to be hated, 
 and the English viewed the proposed alliance with great dislike. 
 Such a union must also have involved us in many political 
 complications, as that of Mary with Philip of Spain had done. 
 A vehement diatribe against the marriage, entitled " The Gaping 
 Gulfe," was written by one John Stubbs, who afterwards 
 suffered severely for his freedom. The following curious ac- 
 count of his punishment is taken from Camden's "History of 
 Elizabeth," book iii. p. 270 :— 
 
 " Hereupon Stubbs & Page had their Eight hands cut off with a cleaver, 
 driven through the "Wrist by the force of a Mallet, upon a Scaffold in the Market- 
 place at Westminster. The Printer (Singleton^ was pardoned. I remember 
 (being there present) that when Stubbs, after his Eight hand was cut off, put 
 off his Hat with his Left, and said with a loud voice, 'God save the Queen !' 
 the Multitude standing about was deeply silent: either out of an Horrour at 
 this new and unwonted kind of Punishment ; or else out of Commiseration to- 
 wards the man, as being of an honest and unblamable Eepute ; or else out of 
 Hatred of the Marriage which most men presaged would be the Overthrow of 
 Eeligion."' 
 
 ' Camden describes Stubbs as "John Stubbs, of Lincoln's-Inne, a fervent 
 hot-headed Professor of Eeligion," and states that the ci'own lawyers questioned 
 the legality of the Act of Philip & Mary " against the Authours and Publishers 
 of Seditious Writings." 
 
Hoiv the Queen appeared to Hentzner. 69 
 
 It will be observed that these poets have a somewhat uniform 
 note — the virtues, beauty, and intellect of their mistress. To 
 them she was 
 
 " The fair vestal tlironfed in the west," — 
 
 the lady with 
 
 " awe commanding face 
 
 Attempered sweet to virgin grace," 
 
 as Gray has it. Those who spoke more plainly, either as foreigners, 
 or trusting their private opinions to the secrecy of a diary, could 
 give a portrait of our heroine from a somewhat different point of 
 view. Let us hear the account of Paul Hentzner, a German, who 
 visited the country in 1598, The original is in Latin, but has 
 been translated by Horace Walpole : " Next came the Queen, in 
 the sixty-fifth year of her age, we are told, very majestic; her 
 face oblong, fair, but wrinkled ; her eyes small, yet black and 
 pleasant ; her nose a little hooked, her lips narrow, and her teeth 
 black (a defect the English seem subject to, from their too great 
 use of sugar) ; she had in her ears two pearls, with very rich 
 drops; she wore false hair, and that red; upon her head she 
 
 had a small crown, and she had on a necklace of 
 
 exceeding fine jewels ; her hands were small, her fingers long, 
 and her stature neither tall nor low ; her air was stately, her 
 manner of speaking mild and obliging. That day she was dressed 
 in white silk, bordered with pearls of the size of beans, and over 
 it a mantle of black silk, shot with silver threads ; her train was 
 very long, the end of it borne by a marchioness; instead of a 
 chain she had an oblong collar of gold and jewels. As she went 
 along in all this state and magnificence, she spoke very graciously, 
 first to one, then to another, whether foreign ministers, or those 
 who attended for different reasons, in English, Erench, and 
 Italian ; for besides being well skilled in Greek, Latin, and the 
 languages I have mentioned, she is mistress of Spanish, Scotch 
 {sic), and Dutch; whoever speaks to her, it is kneeling; now 
 and then she raises some with her hand. While we were there, 
 W. Slawata, a Bohemian baron, had letters to present to her; and 
 she, after pulling oif her glove, gave him her right hand to kiss, 
 sparkling with rings and jewels — a mark of particular favour; 
 wherever she turned her face, as she was going along, everybody 
 fell down on their knees. The ladies of the court followed next 
 to her, very handsome and well-shaped, and for the most part 
 dressed in white. She was guarded on each side by the gentle- 
 men-pensioners, fifty in number, with gilt battle-axes. In the 
 ante-chapel next the hall where we were, petitions were presented 
 to her, and she received them most graciously, which occasioned 
 
70 How the Queen appeared to Forman. 
 
 the exclamation of 'Long live Queen Elizabeth!' She answered 
 it with, 'I thank you, my good people.' " 
 
 No one can deny that the foreigner has left us a very vigorous 
 picture of the " Great Eliza." 
 
 The following curious memoranda, compiled by Dr. Simon 
 Forman, are to be foimd among the Ashmolean MSS. preserved 
 in the Bodleian. In them the Queen appears in a very homely 
 light.' 
 
 [Ash. MS. 226, fol. 44.] 
 
 "Anno 1597, the 23 Januaria, atont 3 a.m., I dreampte that I was with the 
 Queene, and that she was a lyttle elderly woman in a Corse whit peticote all 
 vnredy, & she & I walked vp and downe thorowe Lanes & closes talkinge & 
 reasoning of many matters ; at Last we came over a thicket close wher were 
 many people, and ther were too men at hard words, and on of them was a 
 weauer, a talle man with a raddish herd distracte of his wits, and she talked to 
 him, and he spak very merily vnto her, & at Laste did take her and kyst'her. 
 Soe I tok her by the Arme & puld her away, & told her the fellowe was franticke, 
 and soe we went from him, & I led her by the Arme still, and then we wente 
 thorowe a durty lane. And she had a long whit smok, very clone and faire, and 
 yt drained in the durte & her cote behind, and I toke her cote & did carry'yt 
 vp a good waie, and then yt hunge to lowe before. And I towld her in talk she 
 
 should do me a fauour to let me waight on her, & she said I should 
 
 And soe we talked meryly, & then she began to lean vpon me when we were 
 paste the durte, & to be veri familiar with me, and me thoughte she began to 
 Loue me. And when we were Alone out of sighte me thought she wold haue 
 kissed me. And with that I waked. That morninge soe sone As I was vp, came 
 
 ^ " Lilly tells us in his autobiography that Dr. Simon Forman ' travelled into 
 Holland for. a month in 1580, purposely to be instructed in astrology, and other 
 more occult sciences, as also in physic, taking bis degree of doctor beyond seas,' 
 and afterwards lived in Lambeth, with a very good report of the neighbourhood, 
 especially of the poor, unto' whom he was very charitable. Lilly says further, 
 ' he was a person that in horary questions (especially thefts) was very judicious 
 and fortunate ; as also in sickness, which indeed was his master-piece.' If this 
 means that he was a master in the art of secretly destroying health and life, 
 a subtle practitioner in poisons, the infamous story of I-ord and Lady Essex, and 
 the tragedy of Sir Thomas Overbury, will sufficiently bear out the statement. 
 'In resolvmg questions about "marriage,' Lilley adds, 'he had good success; in 
 other questions very moderate.' As for a remarkable memorandum which the 
 doctor left behind him — ' This I made the Devil write with his own hand in 
 Lambeth Fields, 1696, in June or July, as I now remember' — we must be 
 excused from believing the affirmation till some unexceptionable witness is 
 brought forward who will swear to his infernal majesty's handwriting." — 
 Knight's "London," vol. iii. p. 261. — In the paper from which this passage is 
 extracted, we have a very interesting sketch of the life of Forman and other 
 mountebanks of the period, notably Dee, Kelly, and Lilly — the adventures of 
 the first of the three being of a highly romantic character. There are many 
 MSS. in the Ashmolean Collection entirely written by Forman, one of them 
 giving an account of his early life. 
 
Dr. Simon Forman and his philters. 71 
 
 Mr. Sefton vnto me, to entrete me to forgive Mm, and soe end hi? matter; but he 
 wold not pay my charge, nor mak me Any recompense, nor haue Any man to 
 heare the matter, & after moch talk I told him no, & soe wtth moch a doe we 
 departed: ther was nothing ells fell out that Dai, but at afternone Jone mi 
 sister cam to me, and I went to AAx (Dulwich?) to the (cypher), and helth 
 (cypher), quia Dominus egrotabit diu ex. mightily." 
 
 [Fol. 46.] " Then tlie 22 of Feb. I dreamt of the quene that she came to 
 me all in black & a french hode; that dai I had Anger by Doryty and Mrs. 
 Pennington, that came to me About words my man spake." ' 
 
 Ben Jonson twice mentions this celebrated quack : 
 
 " Dauphine. — I would say thou hadst the best philter in the world, and couldst 
 do more than madam Medea or doctor Foreman." — Silent Woman, act iy. 
 
 "Ay, they do now name Bretnor, as before they talked of Gresham, and of 
 Doctor Foreman." — TAe Devil is an Ass, act i. scene 2. 
 
 ' Ash. MS. 226 is a volume consisting of several quires of paper bound to- 
 gether, thus entitled by Ashmole, " Figures set upon Horary questions, by Mr. 
 Simon Forman, 1597, vol. 2, being his medical and astrological Practice from 
 20th January, 1697, to 20 February, 1598. Forman born 1662, died leU.]'— 
 Ash. MS. 219 is a volume by Forman of the same description as the foregoing. 
 He has recorded (fol. 53), "The words that Peter Sefton of the ston house, 
 Clarke, uttered againste Simon Forman the 9th of May, 1699, with the names 
 of the witnesses, and a note that he was arrested for the same;" and in Ash. 
 MS. 236, another MS. of Forman's, Sefton's "matter" is brought to a close 
 by a "copy of a certificate of oath made by Thomas Grene, Serjeant, of the 
 delivery of a bond by S. Forman, for settling the dispute between him and Peter 
 Sefton (23 May, 1599)." Occasionally he applies his astrological knowledge to 
 very practical questions, as when he seeks to find out "whe[the]r Danson will pay 
 me my money the next court day " (24 Jan. 1610). 
 
 c-^cMS'QxSVeX©'®"-^''^ 
 
72 
 
 €ift partbeniaties of &tom Puttenftam. 
 
 Of George Puttenham, tlie author of tlie "Arte of English Poesie," 
 1589, our records are very meagre. He was bom about 1532, and 
 probably died somewhere near the close of the same century. 
 The poem is here printed from a Cottonian MS. If we had 
 any doubts about the writer, they would certainly be removed by 
 the following allusion in the above-cited work : 
 
 "This considered, I will let one figure enioy his best beknowen 
 name, and call him stil, in all ordinarie cases, the figure of com- 
 parison, as when we sang of our Soueraigne Lady 
 
 thus, in the twentieth Partheniade — 
 
 As faulcon fares to bussaides flight," etc. 
 
 The authorship of Puttenhara was known to his contemporaries. 
 Sir John Harington, in the preface to his translation of "Orlando 
 Furioso" (London, 1591), alludes sarcastically to his slender 
 poetical merits : " Neither do I suppose it to be greatly behoofull 
 for this purpose, to trouble you with the curious definitions of 
 a Poet and Poesie, and with the subtiU distinctions of their 
 sundry kinds; nor to dispute how high and supernatural the 
 name of a maker is, so christened in English by that vnknowne 
 godfather, that this last year save one, viz. 1589, set forth a booke 
 
 called the Arte of English Poetrie For though the 
 
 poore gentleman laboreth greatly to proue, or rather to make 
 Poetrie an art, and reoiteth as you may see in the plural number, 
 some pluralities of patterns, and parcels of his owne Poetrie, with 
 divers pieces of Partheniads and hymnes in praise of the most 
 praiseworthy : yet whatsoeuer he would proue by all these, sure 
 in my poore opinion he doth proue nothing more plainly, than 
 that which M. Sidney and all the learneder sort that have written 
 of it do pronounce, namely, that it is a gift, and not an art. I 
 say he proueth it, because making himselfe and so manie others 
 so cunning in the art, yet he sheweth himself so slender a gift 
 in it." 
 
 In a list of works written by Puttenham, copied by Eitson 
 from a memorandum made by George Steevens out of a paper 
 in the handwriting of Ben Jonson, the name Partheniades also 
 occurs (see Carew Hazlitt's "Handbook of Elizabethan Litera- 
 ture," p. 488). Besides these mentions, I may notice that a part 
 of the poem was printed in Nichols' "Progresses of Queen 
 
Partheniades. — The author wishes to he concealed. 73 
 
 Elizabeth," 1823, and again in "Ancient Critical Essays," edited 
 by Joseph Haslewood, 1811. It will be observed that the copy 
 of the piece is not complete : at least three of the divisions being 
 omitted. It was probably presented to the Queen on New 
 Year's Day, 1579. In his reprint, Haslewood has not attempted 
 to explain any of the difficulties which the poem contains. 
 
 [MS. Cott. Vesp. E. viii. leaf 169.] 
 
 The principall addresse in nature of a New yeares 
 gifte, seeminge therebye the Author intended not 
 to have his name knowne. 
 
 ThSefa! '' Grracious Princesse, "Where princes are in place 
 To geue you gold, and plate, and perles of price, 
 It seemeth this day, saue your royaH advice, 
 Paper praesentes should haue but little grace. 
 But sithe the tyme so aptly serues the case, 5 
 
 And, as some thinke, youre highnes takes delighte 
 Oft to pervse the styles of other men, 
 And oft youre self, wjth Ladye Sapphoes pen. 
 In sweet measures, of poesye t'endite 
 The rare affectes of your hevenly sprighte, lo 
 
 Well hopes my Muse to skape all manner blame, 
 Vttringe your honours, to hyde her owners name. 
 
 The author choosinge by his verse to honour the 
 Queenes Maeestie of England Ladye Elizabeth, 
 bodily preferreth his choise and the excellencye of 
 the subiect before all others of anye Poet, auncient 
 or moderne. 
 
 cik)'?!.^' Greeke Achilles and his peeres did enioye 
 
 Grreate Homers troompe, for theyr high valiaunce. 
 
 And Maro woulde in stately stile advaunce 15 
 
 JEneas, and that noble reste of Troye. 
 
 In martial moodes Lucane did singe the chaunce, 
 
 Ende and pursute of that lamented warre 
 
 Of proude allyes, whose envj'' spredd so farre, 
 
 As exilde Roome all egall governaunce. 20 
 
 Horace honourd August, the highest of names. 
 And yet his harte from Mecene neuer swerude. 
 
74 Parth. — The Queen supremely blest, with two exceptions. 
 
 Ovide helde trayne in Venus courte, and serude 
 Cheife secretarye to all those noble Dames, 
 Martyres of loue, who so broylde in his flames 25 
 As both theyr trauth and penance well deserude 
 All in fine gold to haue theyr image kerude. 
 For cleere recorde of theyr most woorthy fames. 
 
 By the brighte beames of Cynthia, the sheene, ^tm.vk.-] 
 
 Cupide kendled the fyres of properse,^ 30 
 
 TibuUus teares bayned * Neseras herse. 
 
 And ladye Laura, her graces that grow greene, 
 
 By Dan Petrarche, of Tuskan poets prince. 
 
 Anacreon sange all in his wanton spleene ; 
 
 But proude Pindare, he spilde the praises cleene 35 
 
 Of all Liricques that were before or since. 
 
 I singe noe bloodd, nor battayles in my verse. 
 
 Amorous odes, or elegies in teene,* 
 
 Churlishe satire, as J uvenall and Perse ;* 
 
 But in chast style am borne, as I weene, 40 
 
 To blazon foorthe the briton mayden Queene,^ 
 
 Whose woorthes surmount them all that they reherse. 
 
 That her MaeVstie (twoo thinges except) hath all 
 the partes that iustly make to be sayd. a most happy 
 creature in this world. 
 
 Eratof ■ ■ 1 outhfuU bcwtyc, in body well disposed ; 
 Louelye fauoure, that age cannot deface ; 
 A noble harte, where nature hath inclosed 45 
 
 The fruitfuU seedes of all vertue and grace ; 
 E,egall estate, coucht in the treble crowne, 
 Ancestrell all, by linage and by right ; 
 Store of treasures, honour and iust renowne ; 
 In quiet raigne, a sure redouted mig[h]t; 50 
 
 Fast frindes, foes few or faint, or overthrowen ; 
 The stranger toonges, and the harts of her owne : 
 
 ' Propertius. ^ Bathed, Fr. baigner. 
 
 ' Grief, spite. * Persius. 
 
 * A favourite epithet of Elizabeth among the poets of the period. 
 
Parth. — She has a serpent's head and angel's face. 75 
 
 Breife ; both nature and nourriture haue doone, 
 With fortunes helpe, what in their cuwning is 
 To yelde the erth, a Princelye paragon. 55 
 
 Eut had shee, oh ! the two ioys shee doth misse — 
 A Cesar to her husband, a Kinge to her soone — . 
 "What lackt her highnes then to all erthly blisse ? 
 
 [If. 170 ] That her Maeestie surmounteth all the Princesses 
 
 of our tyme in wisedome, bewtye, and magnanimity e, 
 and ys a thinge Yerye admirable in nature. 
 
 ThaUtt.'*' Whome Princes serve, and Realmes obay, 
 
 And greatest of Bryton kinges begott, 60 
 
 Shee came abroade even yesterday. 
 When such as saw her knew her not ; 
 For one woold ween that stoode a farre 
 She were as other weemen arre. 
 
 In trauthe it fares much otherwise : 65 
 
 Por whilest they thinke they see a Queens, 
 
 It comes to passe ye can devise 
 
 No stranger sight for to bee seene ; 
 
 Suche erroure falls in feble eye 
 
 That cannot view her stedfastlye. • 70 
 
 How so ? alas ! forsooth it is, 
 
 Nature, that seldome woorkes amis, 
 
 In woman's brest by passinge arte 
 
 Hath harbourd safe the Lyons harte, 
 
 And featlye fixt, with all good grace, 75 
 
 The serpentes hedd and angells face. 
 
 That wisedome in a princesse is to be preferred 
 before bewtye, riches, honour, or puissaunce ; but 
 where all the partes concure in one person, as they 
 doe moste evidently in her Mazestie, the same is not 
 to be reputed an humane, but rather a diuine per- 
 fection. 
 
 SSpi- ' The Phrigian youth, full ill advised, 
 mene. ipg iudge betwceno goddesses thre. 
 
76 Parth. — The poet can hardly wnte of her beauty. 
 
 All worldly wealth and witt despised, 
 
 And gaue the price to cleere beawtee : 80 
 
 His meede therfore was to win grace nf.nobko 
 
 Of Venus, and her louinge race. 
 
 The wandring prime and Knightes of Troye, 
 
 Who first broughte bale to Tyrian towne, 
 
 Coulde never finde comforte or ioye 85 
 
 While Juno did vppon them frowne : 
 
 Hir wrathe appeased, they purchaste reste, 
 
 An Lavine lande theire owne beheste. 
 
 I am not rapte in Junoes spheare, 
 
 Nor with dame Yenus louelye hewe ; 90 
 
 But here one earthe I serue and feare, 
 
 mayde Minerue, thine ydoU true, 
 W[h]ose power preuayles in warr and peace, 
 So as thy raigne can no tyme cease. 
 
 The addresse. 
 
 Princesse, yee haue the doome ^ that I can giue. 
 But seldome sitts the iudge that may not erre ; 
 Whence, to be sure, I haue vowed while I line, 
 T' addore all three godheads in your own starre. 
 
 That vertue ys alwayes subiect to envy and many 
 times to perill ; and yf her Majesties most notable 
 prosperities haue ever beene maligned, the same 
 hath beene for her only vertues sake. 
 
 K- '■ ' Fayre Britton maye,^ 95 
 
 mene. "Wary and wise in all thy wayes, 
 
 Never seekinge nor finding peere, 
 
 When ere thy happe shalbe to heere 
 
 My mouth be muet in thy prayse 
 
 But one whole daye, lOO 
 
 Sweare by thine head, [if. 171.] 
 
 And thy three orownes, it must needes bee 
 Whilest I admire thy rare bewtye 
 
 1 am forspoke, in spite of thee. 
 
 By some disdaynefull curst feyrye, 105 
 
 Or sioke, or dead. 
 
 ' Judgment. 2 Maid. 
 
Parth. — He has a vision of the Queen. 77 
 
 But while thy mighte 
 
 Can keepe my harte queavlnge' or quicke, 
 
 Trust me my lippes shall neuer lenne^ 
 
 To power thye prayses to my penne, 110 
 
 Till all thy foes be sorrowe sicke 
 
 Or dead out right. 
 
 They saye not soothe 
 
 Of grace and goodnes that malnetayne 
 
 Them to be thinges so safe, so louelye ; 116 
 
 I see nothinge vnder the skie 
 
 Abide suche daunger and disdains 
 
 As vertue doothe. 
 
 Then, if theyr bee 
 
 Any so canckred harte to grutche' 120 
 
 At your gloryes, my Queene, in vayne, 
 
 Eepininge at your fatall raigne. 
 
 It is for that they feele to muche 
 
 Of your bountee. 
 
 Euterpe.'' A ryddlc of the Princesse Paragon.* 
 
 I saw marche in a meadowe greene 125 
 
 A fayrer wight then feirye Queene ; 
 
 And as I woulde approche her neere. 
 
 Her head ys shone like Christall cleere ; 
 
 Of silver was her forehead hye. 
 
 Her browes two bowes of Henevye ;* 130 
 
 Her tresses troust were to beholde, 
 
 Frizeld and fine as frenge of gold ; 
 
 Her eyes,- god wott what stufie they arre, 
 
 I durst be sworne eche ys a starre, 
 
 As cleere and brighte as to guide 135 
 
 The pilot in his winter tide ; 
 
 Twoo lippes wroughte out of rubye rocke, 
 
 Like leaues to shutt and to vnlocke, 
 
 ' Quaving, shaking. Of. 'quaver. * Lend, A.S. Ime. 
 
 ^ Grieve, envy, grumble. 
 
 * " Specially of f'aire women whose eicellencie is discouered by paragonizing, 
 or setting one to another, which moued the zealous Poet, speaking of the mayden 
 Queene, to call her the paragon of Queenes." — Puttenham's Art of Eng. Poesie. 
 Of Ornament, Lit. III. * « Ebony. 
 
 II r. H 
 
Pdrth. — She is like a goodly cedar. _ 
 
 As portall doore in princes chamber ; 
 
 A golden toonge in mouth of amber, 140 
 
 That oft ys hard, but none yt seethe ; 
 
 Without a garde of yvorye teethe, 
 
 Even arrayed, and richelye, all 
 
 In skarlett, or in fine corrall ; 
 
 Her cheeke, her chinne, her neck, her nose, 145 
 
 This was a lillye, that was a rose ; 
 
 Her hande so white as whales bone. 
 
 Her finger tipt with Cassidone ; ^ 
 
 Her bosome, sleeke as Paris plaster, 
 
 Held vpp twoo bowles of Alabaster ; 150 
 
 Ech byas was a little cherrye, 
 
 Or as I thinke a strawberrye ; 
 
 A slender greve,^ swifter then Roe, 
 
 A pretye foote to trippe and goe. 
 
 But of a solemne pace perdye, - 155 
 
 And m'archinge with a maiestye ; 
 
 Her body shapte as strayghte as shafte. 
 
 Disclosed eche limbe wjth-outen craft, 
 
 Saue shadowed all, as I could gesse, 
 
 Vnder a vayle of silke Cypresse, 160 
 
 From toppe to toe yee mighte her see 
 
 Timberd and tall as Cedar tree, 
 
 Whose statelye turfe exceedeth farre 
 
 AJl that in frithe ^ and forrest arre. 
 
 This markt I well, but loe an one, [ir.wi] 165 
 
 Me thought all like a lumpe of stone — 
 
 The stone that doth the Steele enchaunte 
 
 The dreadfull rocke of Adamante, 
 
 And woorkes the shippe, as authors speake, 
 
 In salt sea manye a wofuU wreake — 170 
 
 Her hart was hidd, none might yt see, 
 
 Marble or flinte folke weene yt bee ; 
 
 Not flint I trowe, I am a Iyer, 
 
 But Syderite* that feeles noe fier. 
 
 Now reed aright, and do not mis, 175 
 
 What ioUy^ dame this ladye is. 
 
 1 Cassidony, a kind of precious stone. ^ Old French grfeve, the shin. 
 
 ' A wood : the word occurs in Chaucer. * The loadstone. 
 
 ^ The old Spenserian use of the word — 
 
 " Full icily knight he seemd, nnd faire did sitt, 
 As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt." 
 
 — Faerie Queene, book i. canto 1. 
 
Parth. — She is wise, affable, and chaste. 79 
 
 The assoile.^ 
 
 This fleshe and bloode, this head, members and harte, 
 These lively lookes, graces, and bewty sheene, 
 Make but one masse, by nature and by arte 
 Rare to the earth, rathe to the worlde seene : 180 
 
 "Would yee faine knowe her name and see your parte ? 
 Hye, and beholde a while the mayden Queene ! 
 
 The assoile at large, moralized in three Dizaynes. 
 
 Timu^' '■ -^ hed harbroughe ^ of all counsayle and witt. 
 
 Where science dwells makinge a liuely sprighte. 
 And dame discourse, as' in her castell sitt, 185 
 
 Scanninge causes by minde and by forsighte ; 
 A cheere Where Looue and maiestye doe raigne 
 Both mild and sterne, having some secret mighte ; 
 Twixte hope and dreede, in woe, and wfth delighte, 
 Mans harte in holde, and eye for to detayne ; 190 
 
 Feedinge the one wjth sighte in sweete desyre, 
 Dauntinge thother, by daunger to aspire. 
 
 Affable grace, speeche eloquent and wise, 
 
 Stately prtesence, suche as becometh one 
 
 "Whoe seemes to rule realmes by her lookes alone, [172 bkj 
 
 And hathe what ells dame Nature coolde devise 196 
 
 To frame a face and corsage paragon, 
 
 Suche as these blessed sprightes of paradise 
 
 Are woonte to assume, or suche as lovers weene 
 
 They see sometimes in sleepe and dainty dreame, 200 
 
 In femall forme a goddesse, and noe Queene, 
 
 Fitter to rule a worlde then a realme. 
 
 A constante mynde, a courage chaste and colde, 
 Where loue logget^ not, nor loue hathe any powres ; 
 Not Venus brandes, nor Cupide can take holde, 205 
 Nor speeche prevayle, teares, plainte purple or golde, 
 Honoure, nempire, nor youthe.in all his flowers. 
 This wott ye all full well yf I do lye : 
 
 ' " 'I'lie assoile," absolution, i.e. as we now say of a riddle, the solution ; a 
 favourite word with Puttenham. 
 
 '' A head ;, the harbour or lodging. ' Lndgeth. 
 
80 Pavth. — The vision of the flower. 
 
 Kinges and kinges peeres, wlio haue soughte farre 
 
 and nye, 
 But all in vayne, to bee her paramoures, 210 
 
 Since twoo Capetts,! three Cezaimes'^ assayde, 
 And bidd^ repulse of the great Britton Mayde. 
 
 A verye strange and rufuU vision presented to 
 the authoure, the interpretation wherof was left to 
 her Matestie till by the purpose discovered. 
 
 (Parthe;9.)jj^ fruitfuU soyle beholde a flower sproonge, 
 Distayninge golde, rubyes, and yvorye ; 
 Three buddes yt bare, three stalkes, tender and younge, 
 One moare middle earthe, one toppe that touche the 
 skye, 216 
 
 Under the leaues, one branches brade and hye, 
 Millions of birds sange shrowded in the shade ; 
 I came anone, and sawe with weepinge eye 
 Twoo blossoms falne, the thirde began to fade, 220 
 So as, within the.compas of an houre. 
 Sore withered was this noble deintye flowre, 
 That noe soyle bredd, nor lande shall loose the like, 
 Ne no seazon or soone or sokinge showre Qf ,,3 ^ 
 
 Can reare agayne for prayer ne for meede. 225 
 
 " Woe and alas ! " the people crye and shrike,* 
 ' ' Why fades this flower, and leaues noe fruit nor seede ?' ' 
 
 camope.'"' Another vision happned to the same authoure 
 as Comfortable and recreatyve as the former was 
 dolorous. 
 
 A royall shippe I sawe by tyde and by winde, 
 Single and sayle in sea as sweet as milke ; 
 
 1 " Since twoo Capetts." Lingard, vol. vi. p. 31, has given us a list of the 
 suitors for the hand of Elizabeth. The two Capets were the Duke of Anjou and 
 his younger brother, the Duke of Alen<;on. 
 
 ^ Probably a slip of the pen for Cezarins. Perhaps the allusion is to Philip I. 
 of Spain, who had previously married her sister Mary. His son, the mad 
 Don Carlos, who seems to have been proposed as her husband ; John Emmanuel 
 Philibert, Duke of Savoy, who was a scion of the Imperial House ; or perhaps 
 the Archduke Charles, the tliird and youngest son of the Emperor Ferdinand I.; 
 may be meant. Of the last Coxe says ( History of the House of Austria, ed. 1810, 
 vol. ii.) : "He was also a candidate for the hand of Elizabeth of England, and 
 like other princes was disappointed by her maiden coyness, or independent spirit." 
 lie certainly did not make his appearance in England, like Anjou, only to under- 
 go the indignity of a public rejection. 
 
 3 Invited. * Shriek. 
 
Parth. — The vision of the ship. 81 
 
 Her Cedar keele, her mast of gold refined, 230 
 
 Her takle and sayles as silver and silke, 
 
 Her fraughte more woorthe then all the wares of lude ; 
 
 Cleere was the coaste, the waues were smooth and still, 
 
 The skyes al calme, Phoebus so brighte he shined ; 
 
 -^olus in poope gaue her wether at will ; 235 
 
 Dan Neptune stered, while Proteus playde his sporte, 
 
 And Nerseus deintj'^ dauters sange full shrill. 
 
 To slise her sayles, that they mighte swell theyr fill ; 
 
 Jove from ahoue his pleasant showers powrde ; 
 
 Her flagge, it beares the flowers of mans comforte : 240 
 
 None but a kinge or more maye her abourde ; 
 
 gallant peece, well will the Lillye afoorde 
 
 Thow strike mizzen and anker in his porta ! 
 
 That her Mawsties most woorthye renowne can 
 not perishe while the worlde shall laste, with cer- 
 tayne philosophicall opinions touchinge the begin- 
 ninge and durabilitye of the worlde. 
 
 vra'ilia;"0 mightye Muse! 
 
 The mignionst ^ mayde of mounte Parnasse, 245 
 
 Ever verdurde with flow re and grasse 
 
 Of sundrye hews, 
 
 Saye, and not misse, 
 
 How longe agone and whence yt was 
 
 The faj're rounde worlde first came to passe 250 
 
 As yt now ys ? 
 
 There be that saye ju, ^kj 
 
 How yt was never otherwise 
 
 Then as wee see it w«th our eyes 
 
 This very daye ; 255 
 
 There bee agayne 
 
 A secte of men, somewhat precise, 
 
 Beleeue a godd did yt devise. 
 
 And not in vayne. 
 
 Nor longe agone, 260 
 
 Onely to serue Adam's linage 
 Some little while as for a stage 
 To playe vpon ; 
 
 ' Fr. mignon. 
 
82 Parth. — Puttenham's philosophy. 
 
 And by despighte 
 
 One daye agayne will in his rage 265 
 
 Crushe it all as a kicson cage' 
 
 And spill it quite. 
 
 Some weene it must* 
 
 Come by recourse of praty moates, 
 
 Farr finer then the smallest groates 270 
 
 Of sand or dust 
 
 That swarme in sonne, 
 
 Clinginge as faste as little clotes* 
 
 Or burres vppon younge children's cotes 
 
 That slise and runne. 275 
 
 Other suppose 
 
 A vov<i approcht, and by reason 
 
 Brought it to shape and to season 
 
 From .a Chaos ; 
 
 But some tech vs, 280 
 
 By playne proofes, whye yt were begone ; 
 
 Nor never more shalbe vndone, 
 
 But byde even thus, 
 
 Whoorlinge his whott* pj ,,^] 
 
 And endlesse roundelP w/th a throwe, 285 
 
 Swifter then shaft out of a bowe, 
 
 Or cannon shott. 
 
 bootlesse carke 
 
 Of mortall men searchinge to knowe, 
 
 Or this or that, since he must rowe 290 
 
 The dplefuU barke 
 
 ' Query kecky, hollow. See Halliwell's Dictionary. 
 
 * Puttenham is here displaying to some advantage his attainments in philo- 
 sophy. It was Anaiagoras who considered vois to oe the primary cause of all 
 tilings, and in order to explain the creiition of all existing things, Democritus 
 maintained that there were in infinite space an infinite number of atoms or 
 elementary particles, homogeneous in quality, hut heterogeneous in form. He 
 further taught that these atoms combine with one another, and that all things 
 arise from the infinite variety of the form, order and position of the atoms in 
 forming combinations. The cause of these combinations he called chance {tvxv), 
 in opposition to the vovs of Anaxagoras. — Dr. Smith's " Classical Dictionary." 
 
 ' A.S. elate, a bur sticking to man's clothes, the cloth bur (Soniner in Bosworthl. 
 " Clote, herbe. Lappa bardana, C. F. lappa rotunda (glis. P.)."— Promptorium. 
 See Dr. Prior's "Popular Names of British Plants:"" " Clot-bur, the bur-dock." 
 
 * Wliirling his ? 
 
 " '■^Mnndle or roundel (in heraldry), the figure of a round ball or bullet." 
 
 Phillipps. 
 
Parth. — The Queen establishes religion, 83 
 
 Which Charon guydes, 
 
 Fraught ful of shadows colde and starke, 
 
 That ferrye to the coontryes darke, 
 
 Tendinge theyr tydes ! 295 
 
 Since stoute nor stronge 
 
 Metall, nor moulde of worldlye warke, 
 
 Nor writt of any cunninge clarke, 
 
 Can last soe longe 
 
 To outlast the skye. 300 
 
 Honour, empire, nor erthly name, 
 Save my priiieesse most woorthye fame. 
 Which cannot dye ! 
 
 Purpose. Howe twoo principall exploytes of her Mawstie 
 
 since shee came to the crowne — to weete, establish- 
 ment of religion and peace — doe assuredly promise 
 her in this life a most prosperous raigne and after 
 her death a woorthye and longe lastinge name, 
 
 What causes mooved so many forreinge Princes 
 to bee sutours to her Mai'estie for mariage, and 
 what by coniecture hath hitherto mooved her to 
 refuse them all. 
 
 vraiSa.''*'Not youro bewty, most gratious soveraigne, [171 bkj 
 Nor maydenly lookes, mayntaynde w«th Maiestye, 305 
 Your stately porte, which, dothe not matche but stayne ; 
 For your Pallas, your presence, and your trayne. 
 All Princes courtes, myne eye coulde ever see. 
 Not your quicke witts, your sober governance. 
 Your cleer forsighte, your fayt[h]full memorye, 310 
 So sweete features in soe stayed countenance ; 
 Nor languages with plenteous vtterance, 
 So able to discourse and entertayne. 
 
 Not noble race, farre beyonde Oesars raigne 
 
 Runne in right line, and bloode of noynted Kinges; 315 
 
 Not large empire, armyes, treasures, domayne, 
 
 Lustye liuries, of fortunes deerst derlinges ; 
 
 Not all the skills fitt for a princelj-e dame. 
 
 Your lerned Muse with youth and studye bringes ; 
 
84 Parth. — He regrets that the Queen will not marry. 
 
 Not true honoure, ne that immortall fame 320 
 
 Of mayden raigne, jouv onelye owne renowns, 
 And noe Queenes ells, yet suche as yeeldes youre name 
 Greater glorye then dooth your treble crowne. 
 
 Not any one of all these honourde partes, 
 
 Youre princely happs and habites that doe move, 325 
 
 Or, as it were, enforced all the hartes 
 
 Of Christen Kinges to quarrell for your love ; 
 
 But to possesse at once and all the goode 
 
 Arte and engyn,* and every starre above 
 
 Fortune or kinde coolde farce ^ in fleshe and bloode, 330 
 
 Was force ynoughe to make so many strive 
 
 For your person. Who in our worlde stoode 
 
 By all consents the mignonst mayde to wiue. 
 
 But now (saye they) what crueltye coold dryue p(.i75.] 
 
 By such repulse your harte harder then stone 335 
 
 So many hopes of princes to depriue ? 
 
 Forsoothe, what guyftes God from his regall throne 
 
 Was woont to deale by righte distributyue ; 
 
 Share meale to eche, not all to anye one ; 
 
 O peerles yow ! or ells no one alive, 340 
 
 Your pride serves you to seize them all alone ; 
 
 Not pride, Madame, but prayse of your lyon ' 
 
 To conquer all, an[d] be conquerd by none. 
 
 Purpose. Conteininge a resolution politique touchinge the 
 
 feminyne gover[n]ment in Monarchye with a de- 
 fensive of her Majesties honoure and constancye for 
 not enclininge her courage (after the example of 
 other ordinarye weemen), nor yet to the appetite of 
 most greate princes, eyther in the affayre of her 
 Mariage or of her manner of regyment. 
 
 What thinges in nature, cowimon reason, and 
 cyvill pollicye goe so faste linked together as 
 they maye not easilye bee soonedred Without 
 preiudice to the politike bodye, whatsoever evill or 
 absurditye seeme in them. 
 
 Skill, cunning. a Stuff. 
 
Parth. — Truth preached. 85 
 
 ThuiikV' Princesse, my Muse thought not amys 
 
 To enforme your noble mynde of this ; 345 
 
 Sythens yee see all wordlye men, 
 
 How they runn ryott now and then, 
 
 By mistakinge and want of sence 
 
 In thinges of little consequence, 
 
 Truly discerned as they maye bee 350 
 
 By one of royall Maiestie, 
 
 And deepe discourse and earnest zeale. 
 
 As yours is for all our weale. 
 
 Or ells it maye full oft befall. 
 
 For thinges of no moment at all, 355 
 
 Discords maye grow by braule and iarre, 
 
 Thence faction, thence cyvile warre. 
 
 Which, when the popular brayne ys woodd,* p,, 175 1,^^ 
 
 Coold not be stauncht with-outen bloodd ; 
 
 And now betymes ye may prevente, SCO 
 
 By this humble advertismente, 
 
 Shewinge the soowzme and points in cheefe, 
 
 That wholly make and marre this greefe ; 
 
 Remove misterye from religion. 
 
 From godly feare all superstition, 365 
 
 Idolatrye from deepe devotion, 
 
 Vulgare woorshippe from worldes promotion, 
 
 Take me from hallows ceremonye. 
 
 From sects errours, from Sayntes hyppocrisye, 
 
 Orders and habites from graduates and clerkes, 370 
 
 Penaunce from sinne, and merite from goode werkes ; 
 
 Pull people and theyr prince asoonder. 
 
 From games to gaze at and miracle to woonder ; 
 
 Forbidde pesauntes theyr countrye sporte, 
 
 Preache all trothe to the raskall sorte,^ 375 
 
 Pull prophane powles out of all yoke ; ^ 
 
 1 Mad. 
 
 ' Eascals, low people, the refuse. 
 
 ^ St. Paul's was the great preaching place of London, and yet was made the 
 resort of gallants and vicious characters. See in Dekker's Gull's Sornbook the 
 chapter "How a gallant should behave himself in Paul's Walks," and The 
 Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie; or, The Walkes in Powles, 1604 (Percy 
 Society, 1841), etc., etc. The "out of all yoke" douhtless refers to Elizabeth's 
 only allowing "Established" ministers to preach. Dekker says: "He that 
 would strive to fashion his legs to his silk stockings, and his proud gait to his 
 hroad garters, let him whiff down these observations ; for if he once get to walk 
 by the book, and 1 see no reason but he may, as well as fight by the book, 
 Pauls may be proud of him." 
 
86 Parth. — Many things requisite for ornament. 
 
 Let popular preachers bears a stroke ; 
 
 Remoue rigour from humane laws, 
 
 Credulitye from prophetts saws ; 
 
 Let reason range beyonde his creede, 380 
 
 Mans fay the languishe nor conscien[c]e bleede; 
 
 Make from olde reliques reverence, 
 
 From publique shews magnificence ; 
 
 Take solemne vows from Princes leagues, 
 
 From sanctuary privileage ; 385 
 
 Take me from publique testimonye, 
 
 Book oathe by trouthe or periurye ; 
 
 Take pompe from prelates, and maiestie from Kinges, 
 
 Solemne circumstance from all these wordly thinges, 
 
 "We walke awrye and wander without lighte, 390 
 
 Confoundinge all to make a Chaos quite. 
 
 Purpose. Conteinynge an invective agaynste the puritanes, 
 
 with singular commendaczon of her Mawsties cou- 
 syderate iudgment and manner of proceedinge in 
 the cause of religion. The daunger of innovations 
 in a cowzmon welth, the poison of sectaryes, and 
 perillous yt ys to shake religion at y® roote by 
 licentious disputes and doctrines. 
 
 [if.i76j That amonge men many thinges be allowed 
 
 of necessitye, many for orname«t, which, cawnot 
 be misliked, nor well spared wethout blemishe to 
 the cyvile life. 
 
 cSiiiopl^Deny honoure to dignitye. 
 
 And triumphe to iust victorye ; 
 
 Pull puisance from soveraj'ntee. 
 
 And creditt from authoritee ; 395 
 
 Set magistrate fro countenance, 
 
 Part veritye and false seweblance, 
 
 "Wronge and force from invasion, 
 
 Fayned speeches from persuasion ; 
 
 Take hartye love from ielosye, 400 
 
 And fraude from cyvile pollioye ; 
 
 Moorninge and doles from buryalls. 
 
 And obsequies from funeralls ; 
 
 From holy dayes, and fro weddinges, 
 
Parth. — He attacks the Puritans. 87 
 
 Minstrells and feasts and robes and ringes ; 405 
 
 Take fro Kinges Courtes intertaynmentes, 
 From Ladyes riche habillimentes, 
 From cour[t]ly girles gorgious geare, 
 From banquette mirtbe and wanton cheare ; 
 Pull out of clothe and comelye weede 410 
 
 The nakt carcas of Adames seede ; 
 From worldlye thinges take vanitee, 
 Sleit, semblant, course, order and degree : 
 Princesse, yt ys as if one take awaye 
 Greene wooddes from forrests, and sunne- shine fro the 
 daye. 415 
 
 Purpose. Agaynste the same Puritan tes a desive^ of Cour- 
 
 tiers and all auncyent Courtly vsages, devised as 
 well for the publique intertaynements as for other 
 private solaces and disportes not scandalously evill 
 or vicious. 
 
 That her Ma«estie is the onlye paragon of princes 
 in this oure age. 
 
 Builde me of bowghes a little bower, 
 
 And sett it by a statelye tower ; 
 
 Set me a new robe by an olde, 
 
 And course coppar by duckate golde ; 
 
 An ape vnto an elephante, 420 
 
 Bruckle bryall to diamante ; ^ 
 
 Set Naples courser to an asse/ [i76bit.] 
 
 Fine eraerawde vnto greene glasse ; 
 
 Set rich rubye to redd emayle. 
 
 The ravans plume to peacockes tayle ; 425 
 
 Laye me the larkes to the lysardes eye, 
 
 The duskye clowde to azure skye ; 
 
 Sett shallow brookes to surginge seas. 
 
 An orient pearle to a white pease ; 
 
 Matche Oamells hayre to satten silke, 430 
 
 And alloes with almounde milke ; 
 
 1 sic. Query an error for device. 
 
 * Brittle beryl to diamond. 
 
 3 The Neapolitan horses must have heen choice ones. 
 
88 Parth.— The poet is a/raid that he flatters too much. 
 
 Compare perrye to Nectar wyne, 
 
 Juniper bush to lofty pine : 
 
 There shall no less an oddes be seene 
 
 In myne from everye other Queene. 435 
 
 Purpose. -Qj ^ijg generall cowzmendacton of her Ma/estie in 
 
 the hihest degree of prayse, The author sheweth 
 the vertue and envyous nature of a paragon, and 
 how excellencye cannot appeere but by comparison. 
 
 A comparison shewinge her Mawsties super- 
 excellencye in all regall vertues. 
 
 Eu'tmpel^ As faulcon fares to bussardes flighte, 
 As egles eyes to owlatts sighte, 
 As fierc saker^ to kowarde kighte, 
 As britest noone to darkest nighte, 
 As amerike is farre from easte, 440 
 
 As lyons lookes fears everye beaste, 
 As soommer soonne exceedeth farre 
 The moone and everye other starre : 
 So farre my princes prayse doth passe 
 The famoust Queene that ever was. 445 
 
 Purpose. ^f^ prayse by resemblance ys voyde of offence; 
 
 that by comparison odious be in the superlative (be 
 it never soe true), it savoureth a certayne grosse 
 adulation vrhich. being to her Majesties naturall 
 modestye nothinge agreeable, the authoure seeketh 
 to salve the sore of her opinion and his suspected 
 sentence by tempringe the excesse with a pretye 
 difference made betweene a bare resemblance and a 
 
 [•If. 177.] coweparison *drawne out of the principles of iustice, 
 as yf one should saye the prayse that ys iustlye given 
 ys well given, and ought not to be misliked, thoughe 
 yt surmounte the common credite and opinion. 
 
 An hymne or divine prayse, vnder the title of 
 the godd.esse Pallas, settinge foorthe hir ma(>st(es 
 commendacibn for hir wisedome and glorious 
 governement in the single lief. 
 
 ' The peregrine fuleon. 
 
Parth. — The Queen a Minerva. 89 
 
 Pallas, Goddesse soverayne, 
 
 Bredd out of great Jupiters braj'ne, 
 
 That thoughe thou be no man mervells, 
 
 All honoure and witt and nothinge ells ; 
 
 Thow that ner was widowe ne wife, 450 
 
 But a true virgin all thy life, 
 
 Be it for some rare presidente 
 
 Of all feminyne gover[n]raente, 
 
 Or that thow trowe no godd above 
 
 Was ever woorthye of thye love ; 455 
 
 Thou that rangest battayles in fielde. 
 
 And bearest harnesse, speare, and shielde. 
 
 And in thine vniversitye, 
 
 The peacefull branche of Olyve tree, 
 
 Lendinge out of thyne endlesse store 460 
 
 All mortall men both law and lore : 
 
 Goddesse, as we poore pilgrimes weene. 
 
 Of spinsters, and of Poets Queene, 
 
 And therfore hast in solempne wise 
 
 Thy temples and thy sacrifise, 465 
 
 Thine hiranes, thy vowes, thy noones, thy clerkes, 
 
 And all that longes to holye werke«. 
 
 The whole wide worlde for them to dwell, 
 
 And Athens for thye chief chappell ; 
 
 But now twentye yeare agon, 470 
 
 Forsakinge Greece for Albion,^ 
 
 Where thow alone doost rule and raygne, 
 
 Empresse and Queene of great brittrayne, 
 
 Leavinge thye lande, thye Bellsire^ wan. 
 
 Too the barbarous Ottoman, 475 
 
 And for grief chaunged thy holy hawnte [ivvuko 
 
 Of mount Parnasse to Troynovaunte ; ^ 
 
 All Atticke showres for tems to sydes,* 
 
 Tems easy for hys easye tydes. 
 
 Built all alonge with mannours riche, 480 
 
 Quinborow^ salt sea, brackish Greene wich ; 
 
 1 This, probably, marks tbe date of the poem, viz. 1578, as Elizabeth came 
 to the thnme in 1558. 
 
 ' Beau sire, prubably Jupiter. 
 
 ' The old mythical name of London. See Geoffrey of Monmouth. 
 
 * Thames's two sides or shores. 
 
 ' Quinborough = Queenborough, an ancient bnt poor town of Kent, in the 
 Isle of Sheppey, situated at the mouth of the river Medway It is fifteen 
 
90 Parth.—The Royal Progresses. 
 
 Then that where Britton raygne begone, 
 
 The Tower of louely Londone, 
 
 Westminster old and new Pallace, 
 
 Eichemounte not great but gorgias ; 485 
 
 Huge Hampton court, y' hath no peere 
 
 For stately roomes and turretts cleere. 
 
 Save Windsor sett on Barockes border,' 
 
 That temple of thye noble order, 
 
 The garter of a lovely dame, 490 
 
 W/»ch gave yt first device and name : — 
 
 O ladye, hence to hethennesse. 
 
 Only vmpire of warre and peace. 
 
 When cityes, states, countryes, and kinges 
 
 Creepe to y" covert of thye winges ; 495 
 
 Thow y' canst dawnt thye forren foes, 
 
 To ridde thye realme of warre and woes. 
 
 Purchasing peace without battayle. 
 
 So firme an one as cannot fayle ; 
 
 Thy tyme not yet in tyme to bee, 500 
 
 By any signe that man may see ; — 
 
 Thow that besydes forreyne affayres 
 
 Canst tend to make yerely repayres. 
 
 By soOTmer progressed and by sporte 
 
 To shire, and towne, Citye, and porte, 505 
 
 To view and compasse all thye lande. 
 
 And take the bills with thine owne hande 
 
 Of clowne and carle, of knight and swayne, 
 
 Who list to thee for right complayne. 
 
 And therin dost such iustice yeelde, 510 
 
 As in thye sexe folke see but seelde. 
 
 And thus to doe arte lesse afrayde 
 
 With houshould trayne, a syllye mayde. 
 
 Then thyne auncetours one of tenne 
 
 Durst do with troopes of armed men ; — 515 
 
 Thow that canst tende to reade and write, ^'' '"'^ 
 
 Dispute, declame, Argewe, endyte 
 
 In schoole and vniversitye, 
 
 miles N.W. of Canterbury and forty-three E. of London. — Gazetteer, 1801. Here 
 a castle was originally built by I'Mvvard III. in honour of his wife Philippa. 
 
 ' Barockes border, i.e. Berkshire. 
 
 ^ See Nichols's' " Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth,'' 
 Ist od. 1788-1807, or 2nd ed. 1823, 3 vols., 4to.; and Laneham's Letter, 1575, 
 edited hy F. J. Furnivall, Esq., for the Ballad Society. 
 
Parlh. — Her Majesty's scholarship. 91 
 
 In prose, and eke in poesye, 
 
 In greek, latine, and fine tuskan, 520 
 
 In frenche, and in Castillian, 
 
 So kindlye and quicke as old and younge' 
 
 May doubte wAe'ch ys the mother tounge : — 
 
 thow, the lovely mayde above. 
 
 Who hast conquerd the god of love, 525 
 
 And skapte his mother suttle gynne, 
 
 Triumphed one him and all his kinne ; — 
 
 Yf thou be all ys sayde afore. 
 
 Or yf thou be a great deale more 
 
 Then I can vtter any wayes, 530 
 
 Not schiphringe^ thee of thye iust prayse ; 
 
 How longe ys yt ere we forgett 
 
 Thyne erthly name ELIZABET, 
 
 And dresse the as thou dost deserve. 
 
 The titles of Britton Minerm ? 535 
 
 In skye why stall we not thye starre 
 
 Fast by the syde of great Cesar ? 
 
 Or ells apoynt thy plannett where 
 
 Shines Berenices golden beare ? 
 
 For we suppose thou hast forswore 540 
 
 To matche with man for evermore. 
 
 Whye build we not thye temples hye, 
 
 Steples and towers to touch the skye, 
 
 Bestrewe thine altars w«th flowers thicke, 
 
 Sence them w«th odours arrabicque, 545 
 
 Perfuminge all the revestryes^ 
 
 "With muske, Oyvett, and Ambergries, 
 
 In thy feast dayes to singe and dawnce 
 
 With lively leps and countenance, 
 
 And twise stoope downe at everye leape 550 
 
 To kisse the shadow of thy foot-stepe. 
 
 Thy lyvinge Ymage to adore, 
 
 Yealding the all earthly honour : 
 
 Not earthlye, no, but all divyne, 
 
 Takinge for me thys hymne of myne ! 555 
 
 ' See Paul Hentzner's account of the Queen's linguistic studies, which (all 
 flattery deducted) appear to have been considerable. 
 
 * Query A.S. scyp, a shred; or the Promptoiium "Schyycre (slice) of hrede or 
 ojer lyke. Lesca, scinda, Schyveryn or ryvyn a-suudyr. Crepo." 
 
 ^ The place in a church where the priest revested himself, or put on the saered 
 garments. It has been contracted into vestry. 
 
92 
 
 [Eawl. MS. 185, fol. 13.] 
 
 3 proper neto ftallaue, tDberein is plaine to bt stmt 
 Doto goo filtsml) englanD for loue of ot Ciuecnc. 
 
 SouNG TO y" tune OF tarletotis caroll} 
 
 London, louden, singe and praise thy lord ! 
 
 let en glands loy be seene ; 
 Trew subiects, quickly shew, w^ one accorde, 
 
 yo"^ loue vnto yo'^ queene 
 Elizabeth so hraue, 
 
 1 Eichard Tarleton, the well-known jester and mountetank of the times of 
 Elizabeth. The reputation of Tarleton is shown by the following lines in the 
 Moral Play of the Marriage of "Wit and Science : " One of the allegorical 
 characters, Will, afterwards takes a 'picture' out of the Clown's basket, and asks 
 whom it represents. Simplicity replies that it is Tarlton, which is followed by 
 the question, 'What, was that Tarlton?' Simplicity then informs him that 
 Tarlton was originally a water-bearer, adding — 
 ' 0, it was a fine fellow as ere was borne ! 
 
 There never will come his like while the earth can come. 
 
 0, passing fine Tarlton ! I would thou hadst lived yet . . . 
 
 But it was the merrriest fellow, that had such jestes in store, 
 
 That if thou hadst seene him thou wouldst have laughed thy hart sore.' 
 His death occurred on the 3rd of September, 1588." (See Collier's " History of 
 the Stage," ii. 351. London, 1851.) 
 
 The reader will find a woodcut of Tarlton (the orthography of the name seems 
 uncertain) playing upon his pipe and drum in the "Book of Eoxburghe Ballads " 
 edited by Mr. Collier (1847). The entry of his burial maybe found in the register 
 of St. Leonard's, Shoreditch. It is conjectured that he died of the plague. His 
 " Jests " appear to have been frequently reprinted, and entitle him to the reputa- 
 tion of the Joe Miller of his time. Thus we have "Tarlton's lests, drawne 
 into these three parts — 
 
 1 . His Court- witty Tests. 
 
 2. His Sound-city lests. 
 
 3. His Countrey-pretty lests. 
 
 Full of Delight, Wit, and Honest Mirth. London, printed by I. H., 1611." 
 This book lias been reprinted for the Shakspere Society (see Carew Hazlitt's 
 " Handbook "). Also "A newe booke in English verse, entitled Tarlton's Toyes. 
 Licensed to Eichiird Jones, Dec. 10, 1576." And lastly, to close the scene, 
 "A Sorrowful newe Sonnette, Intituled Tarlton's Eecantation uppon this theame 
 gyven him by a Gent, at the Belsnvage without Ludgate (nowe or ells never) 
 beinge the last theame he songe. Licensed to Henrie Kyrkham, ij die Auguste, 
 1-189," and "A pleasant Dyttye Dialogue wise betweene Tarlton's Ghost and 
 Eobyn Good Fellowe. Licensed to Heny. Carre, xx° die Auguste, 1590." 
 
The Spanish Spite. 93 
 
 Whose vertuea rare beseeme her well, 6 
 
 from all y^ world she beares y^ beU ; 
 her dew deserts no toung can tell, 
 
 Her selfe she doth hehaue, 
 That all y« world doth marvell much 
 How nature should frame anie such, 
 of vice none lyving can her tuch,^ 12 
 
 For lustice lust, for grace and pittie both, 
 
 no Realme hath had her like ; 
 She pardons them full oft y* would be loth 
 to hold if they durst strike, — 
 
 Elizabeth lord saue. 
 She is y^ luell makes vs glade, , 18 
 
 a greater good cannot be had ; 
 whilst we haue her, who" can be sad ? 
 
 Elizabeth so braue. 
 Doth never tread from vertues trace, 
 her hart and mind are full of grace, 
 from pittie she tournes not her face. 24 
 
 Gods word with sword, & eke her crowne,* 
 
 from foes she doth defend ; 
 yet pagon pope, j'* filthy sort of Rome, 
 
 y^ devill doth legat send 
 To spoile o*" Juell braue. 
 But god will haue nosing ^ ill don ; 30 
 
 he teacheth england how to shonne, 
 and traitors to y° gallows runne — 
 
 Elizabeth lord saue, 
 and still defend her with thy hand, 
 her happie dales to passe y' sand, 
 so shall this be a blessed land. 36 
 
 The Spanish spite,^ which made y* papiste boast, 
 
 hath done them little good ; 
 god dealt with them as w*h king Pharoes host, 
 
 who were drowned in y^ flood, 
 Elizabeth to saue. 
 
 ' Besmear. 
 
 ' Two wordes are added here, but worn away so as to be illegible ; it seems to 
 be " wt frowne," but query. ' sic. 
 
 * This seems to fix the date of the poem, as having been written after the 
 episode of the Spanish Armada, 1688. 
 
94 Prosperity of the Country. 
 
 The lord him selfe w% streached arme 42 
 
 did quell tber rage y* sought o' harms ; 
 ther threatning brathes y^ lord did charme — 
 
 Elizabeth so hraue. 
 The lord did quite from tiratit swaye, 
 and traitors lost ther hop^d daye : 
 grant all her foes, lord, like decaye ! 48 
 
 The subtill engines y* her foes prepared 
 
 to worke o' fatall fall, 
 are tourned to snares wherew* them selves are snard, 
 
 and brougbt to shame w%all. 
 Elizabeth so braue 
 Did not in strength of navie trust, 54 
 
 nor yet in steell y* is but rust, 
 but in her lord, who is most lust, 
 
 iD'h lord and god doth saue 
 o' land & Ts from wo and teene 
 so wondrously as never was seene, 
 even for y* vertues of o"^ Queene, 60 
 
 Thou England, thou maist say thou happie art, 
 
 aboue a thousand soyles ; 
 thou feelst no parte of other countrees smarte ; 
 god giues thy foes y« foyles, — 
 
 Elizabeth most braue ; 
 for how it is god dotb vs spare, 66 
 
 one her he hath a fervent care, 
 to giue him thankes England prepare, 
 
 o' Juell he doth saue, 
 and all we haue els be it knowne, 
 his mercies great w^h he hath showne, 
 all for her sake, not for o' owne. 72 
 
 God for her cause doth cloath y' ground w' store 
 
 of plenty and encrease ; 
 0"^ barnes are full, o'^ barkes can here no more,^ 
 
 and blest we are w' peace, — 
 Elizabeth most brave ; 
 
 ' Shaltspere, with courtly flattery, has also dwelt upon the prosperity of the 
 reign of Elizabeth : 
 
 " She shall he lov'd and fear'd ; her own shall bless her ; 
 Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, 
 
London to learn Humility. 95 
 
 for thee doth england feell all this, 73 
 
 we nothing want y* needfull is, 
 this luell england cannot misse, — 
 
 Elizabeth lord save, 
 that england may be happie still ; 
 confound all those y* would her ill : 
 so lawd thy name y« faithfuU will. 84 
 
 Though god do this, yet, london, learne to feare ; 
 
 all england do y» like ; 
 away w* prid, shun hores, and shame to swere, 
 
 or els y^ lord will strike, — 
 then no good can we haue ; 
 but all o^ good we shall forgoe, 90 
 
 and feele his plagues, both hye and lowe ; 
 c vices yile doth greeve him so, — 
 
 and still our qiieene to saue, 
 the lord his lustice still forberes, 
 as he hath done these manie j^eares ; 
 then let vs morne o' sines with teres. 96 
 
 Do this, and live in loye & happie case. 
 
 In favour of y« lord ; 
 from vices past y® lord will tourne his face : 
 
 then let vs all accord 
 to prate y* england braue 
 may florish everie howre and day 102 
 
 fresh and greene, like greenest baye, 
 and y* her foes come to decaye, — 
 
 Elizabeth lord saue, 
 That england may, as it hath beene, 
 be fruitfull, and peace in it be scene ; 
 loung live and Eaigne o' gratious Queene. 108 
 
 finis. 
 
 And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows with her : 
 In her days every man shall eat in safety, 
 Under his own vine, what he plants ; and sing 
 The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours." 
 
 — Henry VIII. act v. scene 5. 
 
 l2 
 
9G 
 
 [Ash. MS, 36, fol. U9.] 
 
 9 Poem in praise of Ctueen CttfatJetlj. 
 
 The first five pages are a translation of the famous satire against 
 women attributed to Simonides, commencing — ■ 
 
 X(B/3(? 'yvvaiKO'; ^eo? eiroiqaev voov. 
 
 The whole piece is dull, and possesses hut little merit. The 
 author is unknown. 
 
 Thus farre the foule- mouth' d Greeke Simonides ; 
 
 I wonder not his Nation cross'd the Seas, 
 
 And in a Ten yeares warre themselves engag'd 
 
 With their Allyes like men more-then-enrag'd, 
 
 Onely back to their Gentry to restore 6 
 
 One woman faire, althoughe She was a whore. 
 
 Had they not wanted beauty es, or not thought 
 A stranger Soyle had on her manners wrought, 
 And made her chaster then their worser Clyme, 
 Troye might perhapps haue stood vntill this tyme ; lo 
 And this Satirique Poet found a waye, 
 In steed of nettles, to be crownd with Baye. . 
 
 Had he been blest but once to looke vpon 
 The heavenly beautyes of our Albion, 
 What raptures had his Soule possest ! how hye 16 
 
 Had his Muse flowne in praise of Brittany ! 
 His flagging Verse, lowe groueling on the Earth, 
 As those from whome he form'd his woemens birth, 
 Had danc'd on topps of Trees, and on the flowres, 
 Sweet as the Graces, nimble as the howres. 20 
 
 His fancy then had ledd him to the woods, 
 Or pritty Shrubbs, or to the silver floods. 
 Where he had mett the Snow-beclowded Swan, 
 The loving Turtle and the Pellican, 
 The harmlesse Robin, charming some sweet vale 25 
 
 With the sweet accent of a Nightingale, 
 The Lad5'e-decking Silkeworme, or vpon 
 The Phoenix in her bedd of Cynamon ; 
 
The Eden without a Serpent. 97 
 
 He woulde haue wrought on all the Spring discloses, 
 
 The _ _ 1 children Lillyes, Roses : . 30 
 
 To his imagination Earth had all 
 
 Discover'd, in her choice of minerall, 
 
 Azure, vermilion ; and the Ocean girle 
 
 Had shewd to him her Corrall & her Pearle, 
 
 And from the virtues to them all assign'd 36 
 
 He had describd a woman and her minde, 
 
 Not from a Catt or Ape, as he* Muse ran, 
 
 Nor from himselfe, althoughe he was a Man. 
 
 But had he seen the quintessence of all, 
 
 (To whose sweet Maiesty my numbers fall), 40 
 
 The Queen of Hearts, and masterer of Death, 
 
 Honor'd, admir'd, belov'd Elizabeth : 
 
 Had he been made of marble and noe more. 
 
 Like to that famous Statue heertofore, 
 
 W"^ yeelded forth a harmony each daye 45 
 
 "When yt was shone on by the Sun's bright raye : 
 
 By the more powerfuU beames of her faire Eyes, 
 
 "What Musick had we heard ! what rapsodyes 
 
 Had he been lost in ! and at last all fir'd, 
 
 Like Phaeton, in suche a heate expir'd, 50 
 
 And never wrought his Muse so farre to tell 
 
 Where we might finde for Her a paralell. 
 
 The taske had been too hye for him, for we. 
 That in divine things more inlightned be. 
 Stand all astonish'd at soe bright a raye, 55 
 
 And (having nothing else) can only saye. 
 From all that was in Eden good & faire 
 She had her birth ; of yt She hath the ayre. 
 The flowres' sweets, colours, breath of every spice ; 
 And if she be noe second Paradise, 60 
 
 Tis for the want of this one thing alone. 
 That Eden had a Serpent, She hath none. 
 
 1 Blank in MS. ' sic. Query, as the muse can. 
 
98 
 
 [ABb. MS. 36, 37, fol. 296)-.] 
 
 Fpon tf)z Deat& of mueen CU^abetf). _ 
 
 This ballad is not without a certain amount of vigour, which is 
 gratifying after the learned platitudes we have for some time 
 been perusing. Its author I have not been able to trace. 
 
 I tell ye all, both great and small, 
 
 & I tell yee all truly, 
 That we haue now a very good cause 
 
 for to lament and cry, 4 
 
 fye, fye, fye, fye, 
 
 O fy thou cruell death ! 
 For thou hast taken away from us 
 
 Our good Queen Elizabeth. 8 
 
 He might haue taken other folkes. 
 
 That better might haue been mist. 
 And let us alone with our good Queene, 
 
 That lov'd not a Popish Priest. 12 
 
 She ruld this Nation by her selfe, 
 
 & was beholden to no man ; 
 shea bore the Sway, & of all affaires, 
 
 & yet shee was but a woman. 16 
 
 A woman (quoth I), and that is more 
 
 Then anie man can tell : 
 How faire shee was, & how chast shee was, 
 
 There's no man knew it well. 20 
 
 The Mounsieur ^ came himselfe from France, 
 
 On purpose for to wooe her ; 
 And- yet she liv'd and dyed a maid, 
 
 Doe what he could do to her. 24 
 
 She never did anie wicked act. 
 
 To make her Conscience pricke her ; 
 
 Nor ever would submitt to him 
 
 That calld himselfe Christs Vicar ; 28 
 
 ' " The Momisieur," the Duke of Anjou, see anii pp. 67, 68. This senti- 
 nipntal fpisoiie in tlif reign of Elizabeth is well known to all readers of history. 
 
The Prowess of Brake. 99 
 
 But rather chose couragiously 
 
 To fight vnder his Banner, 
 'Q-ainst Turke and Pope & King of Spaine, 
 
 And all that durst withstan her. 32 
 
 In Eighty Eight how shee did fight 
 
 Is knowne to all and some, 
 When the Spaniard came, her courage to tame, 
 
 But had better haue stayd at home : 36 
 
 They came with Ships, fiUd full of Whipps, 
 
 To haue lasht her Princely Hide ; 
 But she had a Drake made them all cry Quake, ' 
 
 & bang'd them back and side. 40 
 
 A wiser Queene never was to be seen 
 
 Eor a woman, or yet a stouter ; * 
 For if anie thing vext her, With that w*"* came next her, 
 
 How shee would lay about her ! 44 
 
 And her Scholarship ^ I may not let slip, 
 
 Eorthere she did so excell. 
 That amongst the Eout, without all doubt, 
 
 Queen Besse shee bore the bell. 48 
 
 And now, if I had Argus eyes, 
 
 They were all too few to weep 
 For our good Queene Elizabeth, 
 
 That here lies fast asleep ; 62 
 
 A sleep shee lyes, & so shee must lye 
 
 TJntill-a the day of Doome ; 
 But then shee'l arise, & p — e out the Eyes 
 
 Of the proud Pope of Rome. 66 
 
 ^ Here we have the beginning of the pleasantries on the name of Sir Francis, 
 which have heen so frequently varied in modern songs. No little honour was 
 done the English hero when he was made the subject of an epic by one of Spain's 
 most celebrated poets, in which every abuse that national hatred could suggest 
 was freely lavished. 
 
 ' Bolder, the original meaning of the word, still preserved in Dutch. 
 
 ' Eespecting her scholarship, vide ante pp. 66, 67. 
 
100 
 
 [Ash. MS. 36, 37, fol. 296*.] 
 
 Fpon ^it jrrancis Dralies teturne from f)is Fopage 
 atiout ^t triorlD ^ tbe Ciueenes meeting f)im. 
 
 This is a somewhat spirited ballad. The events which it com- 
 memorates are well known. Sir Francis Drake sailed from 
 Plymouth, on his voyage round the world, Dec. 13, 1577, and 
 returned in 1580, was visited on board his ship by the Queen, 
 and knighted. Out of the fragments of this celebrated vessel 
 a chair was made, which is still preserved in the Bodleian Library 
 at Oxford, and has formed the subject of a very pleasing poem 
 by Cowley. The career of Drake has been so often described, 
 that, instead of recapitulating its leading incidents, it would be 
 better perhaps to refer the reader to the two following curious 
 tracts in the British Museum, where he may find some of the 
 original authorities of the modern biographies. 
 
 " Newes ovt of the Coast of Spaine. The true Eeport of the 
 honourable seruice for England perfourmed by Sir Prauncis Drake 
 in the moneths of Aprill and May last past, 1587, vpon Gales, etc. 
 Imprinted at London by W. How for Henry Haslop . . 1587. 4to." 
 
 " A Summarie and Trve Discovrse of Sir Francis Drakes west 
 Indian Voyage, etc. London, 1589. 4to. Dedicated by T(homas) 
 C(ates) to Robert d'Evreux, Earle of Essex." 
 
 S'^ Francis, S"^ Francis, S"^ Francis is come ; 
 S"^ Robert, & eke S"^ William his Sonne, 
 And eke the good Earle of Huntington ' 
 March'd gallantly on the Road. 
 
 Then came the L* Chamberlain w"" his white staffe, 
 And all the people began to laugh ; 
 And then the Queen began to speake, 
 " Yd' Wellcome home, 8"^ Francis Drake." 
 
 ' Henry Hastings, the twentieth earl of the line. He succeeded to the dignity 
 in 1660 ; summoned to Parliament in the lifetime of his father as Lord Hastings; 
 Knight of the Garter, Died in 1695, leaving no issue. 
 
Fate of Gilbert. .101 
 
 You Gallants all o' th Brittish blood, 
 
 Why don't you sayle o' th Ocean floud ? 
 
 I protest you're not all worth a Philbert, 
 
 If once compared to S"^ Humphry Gilbert.' 12 
 
 For he went out on a Rainy day, 
 
 And to the new found land found out his way. 
 
 With many a Gallant both fresh & green, 
 
 And he n'er came home agen. God blesse the Queene ! 1 6 
 
 [Ash. MS. 38, fol. 167r.] 
 
 SDn IXueenc dEU^abetf) Ciueene of OEnglanD. 
 
 These lines furnish another proof of the popularity of the 
 Queen, with whom the greatness of the nation was idtotified. 
 The author is unknown. 
 
 Kings, Queens, mens, ludgments eyes, 
 See whear your Mirrore lies : 
 In whome hur frinds hath seen 
 A kings state In a Queene ; 
 
 In whome hur foes suruayde 6 
 
 A mans hart In A Mayde : 
 whome, least men, for her pietye 
 should ludge to haue bine a dietye,^ 
 Heauen since by death did summon. 
 To shew she was a woman. 10 
 
 T. (?) B. 
 
 • Born in 1539, and lost at sea in 1584. His tragical fate has formed the 
 Buhjeot of a poem by Longfellow : 
 
 " Southward, with fleet of ice, 
 Sailed the corsair death." 
 — Gilbert had accomplished two voyages to North America, and in 1583 ha'l taken 
 possession of Newfoundland in the name of the Queen. On his return from the 
 latter, his ships were caught in a violent storm : thcAdmiral, one of those fine 
 austere spirits so peculiarly abundant in that age of vigorous manhood, was last 
 seen sitting in the stern of the ship, and was heard by the crew of one of the 
 vessels, ere the tempest separated them for ever, to cry out with a calm voice 
 that heaven was as near by sea as by land. 
 
 ' Probably means a person who should live for ever, to guess from the etymology. 
 
102 
 
 [Ash. MS. 38, fol. 172.] 
 
 HDn £\ucen (Bli^uMff* 
 
 Eliza, that great Maiden Queen, lies here, 
 Who gouernd England fower an forty yeare ; 
 Our Coynes ilefined,i Ireland Tamde,^ Belgia protected,^ 
 Frinded Fraunce,* foyld Spaign, and Pope reiected : 
 Princes found her powerfuU, the world vertuous, 
 Hir subiects wise and fast, and God religious. 
 Grod hath hur soule, the world hir Admiration, 
 Subiects hur good deeds. Princes hur Imitation. 
 
 finis Char : Best.* 
 
 ' In 1560, the hase money which had been in circulation during the reign of 
 Ddward VI. was called in, and proper money issued in its place. 
 
 ' Shane O'Neil rebelled against the English in the year 1565, but was 
 murdered by his own countrymen at a banquet in 1667. Sir Walter Devereui, 
 Earl of Essex, in vain attempted to plant colonies in Ulster. This was followed 
 by the rebellion of the Earl of Desmond, who was assisted by the Spaniards, 
 and for some time resisted the English, but was ultimately driven out as 
 a fugitive, and killed while hiding in a miserable hut (see Lingard). His head 
 was struck off, and Elizabeth caused it to be placed on London Bridge. There- 
 upon followed the vigorous rule of Sir John Perrot, who was recalled, however, 
 owing to Court intrigues, and died in the Tower (Dec. 1591). The last great 
 rebellion was that of Hugh O'Neil, who completely defeated the English at the 
 Battle of the Blackwater (1598). His subsequent interview with Essex and fate 
 will be spoken of afterwards in the notes to the ballads on that unfortunate 
 favourite. To understand the Ireland of Elizabeth's time the tract written by 
 Spenser is invaluable: there is a very curious description also in Borde's "Intro- 
 duction of Knowledge" (edited by Furnivall, 1870, p. 131). The account is 
 additionally important from being one of the earliest. 
 
 ' Elizabeth's assistance of the Dutch in their revolt against Philip the Second 
 is well known, and has been told by Motley.. The Netherlanders may he 
 pardoned for not feeling any great gratitude on this score : they were compelled 
 to endure the insolence of Leicester, and had to make a very solid return for 
 the favours which they received. 
 
 * In 1662 Elizabeth sent forces, under the Earl of "Warwick, to assist the 
 Huguenots ; they took Havre, but were ultimately compelled to capitulate. See 
 also afterwards the notes on the career of Essex. 
 
 ' Of this person I am usable to iurnish any information. 
 
103 
 
 NONCONFORMITY IN THE TIME OP 
 ELIZABETH. 
 
 The development of Nonconformity — a very natural sequence 
 of the principle of private judgment so loudly proclaimed by the 
 Eeformation, and the new subjective authority upon which all 
 religion was to be based — is a very interesting feature in the 
 reign of Elizabeth. The exiles, who had fled the Marian 
 persecution, brought back the more advanced opinions which they 
 had cherished and openly exhibited among their Calvinist brothers 
 on the Continent. Great irregularity began to be exhibited in 
 the celebration of the Service, especially with reference to the 
 administration of the Sacrament and the Sign of the Cross. But 
 it was from one point of view especially that Elizabeth was but 
 little likely to tolerate these irregularities. She was extremely 
 tenacious of her ecclesiastical supremacy, and the great principle 
 upon which it is based, viz. that the Church is dependent upon 
 the political constitution of the country. "The Queen," says 
 Neal,' "inherited the spirit of her father, and affected a great 
 deal of magnificence in her devotions, as well as in her Court. 
 She was fond of many of the old rites and ceremonies in which 
 she had been educated. She thought her brother had stripped 
 religion too much of its ornaments ; and made the doctrines of 
 the Church too narrow in some points." About 1663 the era of 
 Protestant Nonconformity in England may be said to begin, and 
 two years later Humphreys, Begins Professor of Divinity at 
 Oxford and Principal of Magdalen, and Sampson, Dean of Christ 
 Church, were deprived of their emoluments. Humphreys, how- 
 ever, ultimately conformed, and was made Dean of Winchester. 
 
 Those of the Puritans who remained in the Church became 
 itinerant preachers or chaplains : many, however, openly deserted 
 it, and began to form conventicles. The Queen caused informa- 
 tion to be conveyed to them, that if they persisted in deserting 
 their parish churches, they must look to a speedy and severe 
 punishment. Matters had now come to a crisis, and the Non- 
 conformists were resolved to try the legality of these proceed- 
 ings by holding a meeting in London. They had hired a room 
 at Plumber's-Hall, under pretence of celebrating a wedding, on 
 the 19th of June, 1567, intending to have a sermon and a com- 
 munion." The London authorities, however, interfered ; the re- 
 calcitrant religionists were handed over to the law, and some of 
 
 ' " History of the Puritans." London, 1837. Vol. i. p. 86. 
 ^ Xeal, i. 161. 
 
104 Puritanism in the Eastern Counties. 
 
 them on the following day brought before the Bishop of London 
 and other ecclesiastical and civil dignities. On this occasion, as 
 on many subsequent, they presented a bold front, and freely dis- 
 cussed religious controversies with their aristocratic persecutors. 
 
 In the Eastern Counties, however, Puritanism found especially 
 its stronghold, where it continued to flourish long after the 
 Elizabethan period. It was from this part of England, as is well 
 known, that the Eoundheads drew their most valuable supporters, 
 soldiers and statesmen of the type of John Winthrop, the founder 
 of Boston, a man of whom Quincey Adams says, that if America 
 had been a Eoman Catholic country, he could not have failed to 
 have attained canonization. Neal tells us that about 1574 Norwich 
 had become a very celebrated centre of Nonconformity, and the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury (Parker) was ordered to send a 
 peremptory message to the Bishop of Norwich (Parkhurst), in- 
 sisting that the conventicles and meetings of persons for "pro- 
 phesying and expounding Scripture" should be put an end to. 
 The Bishop was reluctantly compelled to assent, although he was 
 notorious for very strong leanings in that direction. 
 
 In spite, however, of the regal thunders, the Puritans were no 
 whit abashed, but openly set at defiance the ecclesiastical com- 
 missions. At a meeting held at Mr. Knewstub's, at Cockfield, 
 in Suffolk, they framed a body of rules for their governance, 
 with especial reference to the use of the Common Prayer Book, 
 apparel, holidays, fastings, and other grievances. 
 
 It was in the diocese of Norwich, also, that the notorious 
 Eobert Browne, founder of the sect of the Brownists, first ac- 
 quired his celebrity. Two of his disciples, Mr. Elias Thacker 
 and Mr. John Copping, had the misfortune to be hanged in 1583, 
 at Bury St. Edmund's, for disseminating his opinions. Their 
 indictments were "for spreading certain books seditiously penned 
 by Eobert Brown against the Book of Common Prayer, estab- 
 lished by the laws of this realm. The sedition charged upon 
 Brown's book was, that it subverted the constitution of the 
 Church, and acknowledged Her Majesty's supremacy civilly, but 
 not otherwise." It was in 1583 that the Puritans of Suffolk sent 
 the following petition. 
 
 The introduction of the piece may perhaps be allowed, as it 
 gives a good idea of the state of religious feeling in the Eastern 
 Counties in the reign of Elizabeth. 
 
105 
 
 [Douce MS. 363, fol. 129)-.] 
 
 The copie of the petition, by the gentlemen or 
 Suffolk, to the Lords of the Counsaile. An" 
 Dom. 1683, July.i 
 
 Wee see, by tlie longe & lamentable experienS that the 
 state of the Churche, especially in cure partes, growethe eueri 
 dale more sycS then outher, and they whome it moste con- 
 sernethe have beene so carelesse provideng the meanes. as 
 the hope of reamedy wexith almoste desperat wA«ch inforceth 
 us, as in all former tymes, so now especially, to resorte unto 
 youre good Lordes, whose harttes god hath seasoned weth 
 a tender care of his glorie in the bweaty of his Sion, the 
 painefuU pastures & ministers of the worde, by what meanes 
 wee know not, are now of laate at every assyze browghte 
 to the barr marshalled w^th the worst malefactors, presentid, 
 indited, arrained, & condemned for matters as wee perceive 
 of very smalle moment, some for leaving owte hoUy-daies 
 unbydden, some for syngeng the salme nunc dimittis in the 
 mornenge, some turning the question in Baptisme conserneng 
 faithe, from the infantes to the godfathers, -which, is but you 
 for them, some for leaving oute the crosse in baptisme, suniil 
 for leaving oute the ringe in marriage, wheretoo neither the 
 Lawe, nor the lawe maker, had ever in oure judgmentes 
 regarde, but ment indeede to bridle the enemy. Yet now 
 a moste petifuU thynge to see, the backe of the lawe is 
 turned to the adversarie, and the eadge withe all the sharp- 
 nesse is layde uppon the firme and true hartted subiect. We 
 grante order to bee the rule of the spirite of God, we desire 
 one uniformity in all dewties of the churche, the same being 
 agreable to their proportion of the faithe. But theise weak 
 Seremonies, & there lyke, be so indifferent as there use or 
 not use maye bee lefte to the discretion of the minister. 
 
 ^ This Petition is given by Strype in his Annals, vol. iii. pp. 183, 184. Strype 
 has modernized it throughout, and made other alterations, e.g. the original copy 
 has "parting of the Church & commonwelthe, or bothe," etc., clearly pro- 
 phetic of the great divisions in religion and politics, then in their dawn. Strype 
 takes all the force out of the argument by the ' substitution of perilling tbx 
 parting. Neal, Hist. Puritans, vol. i. p. 254, gives a mutilated copy of this 
 supplication, with every strong and intolerant expression carefully expunged. 
 
106 Browne and his followers. 
 
 We thinke it with oute duetye, and under the favorable 
 condition wee speak it, very harde to goe under so harde 
 handelynge to the uttar discredit of the whole ministery & 
 profession of truthe, and that wh«ch is moare, we that bee 
 maiestrates understande hir maiestie, are as wee think) 
 equivalent of voyce, and know that lawe & iustice is one, 
 & maye not bee devided, doo forebeare to speak what wee 
 knowe, lest by our severance in opinion, Lawe shulde bee 
 rent, & justice cut in twayne, and so the middest of the 
 people which, are so easely distracted bee caried hither & 
 thythar to the moveng of further inconveniances. And so 
 by our lycence, ministerie & maiestracie, is browght into open 
 contempte, yf therfore it maye bee lawfuU for us to speake 
 but truth for oure selves. This is oure course, we serve her 
 maiestie in the countery, not according unto oure fanticis 
 as the wordle (sic) falsely beares us in hande, but accordeng 
 to the lawes & statutes of the Eealme of England. "We doo 
 reverence both the lawe & the lawe makers, lawe speeketh 
 & wee kepe sylence, Lawe comandeth & wee obaye, with out 
 lawe no man can possess his owne in peace, by lawe we 
 precede against all offenders, wee toucnj none that lawe 
 spareth, we spare none that lawe toucheth. Hinc ilia 
 lachrima, we alowe not the papists their trecheris subtiU 
 practizes & herizis. We alowe not the family of love an 
 egg of the same neste, we alowe not Anabaptistes nor there 
 comunite. We alowe not of Browne the overthrower both 
 of the churche & of the coinon wealthe. We allowe (not) 
 all those, but we humbely uppon oure knees, we praie your 
 good lordshippes to geve us leave to advertise you, how the 
 adversarie very cunningly hathe new christenid us with an 
 odyous name of puritanisme ; we defie & detest bothe the 
 name & the herezy, it is composed of all her herezis afore- 
 saide. The papistes bee pure & imaculate, he hath stoare 
 of goodnesse for him self] & plenty for outhers. The 
 family of love cannot sinne, they bee so pure that God is 
 homified in them, & they deified in God : but wee, thanckes 
 bee to God, doo crye out in the bytternesse of ottv soules, 
 peccavimus cum patribits nostris, and groane under the burden 
 of owr sinnes, wee confesse that there is none worse before 
 God. And yet before the wordle wee laboure [to] keepe oure 
 selves and oure profession unblameable ; this is oure puritan- 
 isme, it pleaseth them to use ministars, magestrates, & 
 
The free passage of the Gospel. 107 
 
 outhar, especially suche as have eye to jugelynges.i & the 
 name being odyous, oftentymes -with the ignorant it makes 
 the person odious. A shrewde devise, & herewith seemith 
 daingerous, for wee know that every simple man in these 
 partes, thanckes bee to God and hir Maiestie, by hering the 
 worde of God redd & preached, doo condemne & contemne 
 the grosse erroures & trumpery of Eoome, but the subtiltes 
 of rome are not soone aspied. Jesuites 8f Seminaries are not 
 odious names w«th the papistes, & yf in tyme suche meght be 
 lykened & lodged by the popes harbengars, & good subiectes 
 cunnengly wounded w«th lewde titles & names falsely ap- 
 plied, God save the church e, the Queene, & the Eealme. 
 God send us peace in Christ. Amen. Wee very humbly 
 desire, right honorable, not to become offensive unto you, 
 eyther in the length or plaine delivery of this matter, for 
 weare the cause but cures only, we coulde beare and forbeare, 
 but when it retcheth even unto the parting of the Churche 
 & com on wealthe or bo the; for they cannot but as twynnes 
 lyve & dye together. Then unlesse wee wolde forget 
 all dutye unto God & man, we cannot but unfolde before 
 yowr honors judgments the particulars of theise so great 
 discomfortes : if yowr good lord shippes shuld call us to 
 triall & proofe of these matters, yt is the thinge wee moste 
 desire ; yf outherwise you shall thinckJ to dispose any outher 
 course as wee are moste bounde, so are wee moste readye to 
 submitt all unto yowr greater wisdome. Oure lord, for his 
 Christes saak, blesse all jouv studies & laboures imployed for 
 the preservation of hir maiestie. The godly & peacable 
 gover[n]ment of this lande, & the free passaige of the 
 gospell, the roote of all the rest, that not we aloane, but the 
 ages to comS may speak of jout praises in all the streates 
 & cornars of oure Cyties. And so coinending oureselves & 
 out: beste services to youre continuall coinandmentes, we doo 
 tak oure leave. 
 
 Eobart Germin, Eobart Ashefilde, 
 
 Eobart Wingfield, Eobart fforth, 
 
 Nicholas Bakon, William Thomson, 
 
 Phillip Barker, Thomas Jeoley, 
 
 John Heigham, Eichard Wingfelde. 
 
 ' Jugglings ; the sentence is thus given by Neal : " This is our Puritanism ; 
 a name given to such magistrates and ministers and others that have a strict eye 
 upon their juggling." 
 
108 Spread of Puritanism. 
 
 It was in 1589 that the celebrated Martin Mar-prelate tracts 
 began to make their appearance, in which the opinions prevalent 
 against the Church of England found a very violent and some- 
 what humorous expression. All attempts to discover the authors 
 of these pamphlets — and there were probably several — failed, 
 even though Burghley himself issued a proclamation. Whitgift 
 and Bancroft were very active in the same direction, but with 
 no better result. Here and there an unfortunate Puritan brought 
 himself within the arm of the law, but the spirit of Noncon- 
 formity for all that was hearty and flourishing. 
 
 The close of the reign of Elizabeth saw the Puritans slowly 
 increasing : the questions which divided the English Church were 
 to be again debated with fresh violence in the reigns of her 
 successors. The subjoined poem is probably the work of some 
 Nonconformist sympathizer — certainly of one who rejoices in 
 the changes brought about by the Eeformation — 
 
 " In each towne and cittie, her grace doth delight it, 
 To have gods -word preached at large." 
 
 So also 
 
 " What Eealme on earth 
 May be compared to this, 
 That hath y* gospell plainly taught f 
 It is a heavenly blisse!" 
 
109 
 
 a Ijartie t&anltes giuinge to gon for our quecnes 
 mo0t ejrtellEttt maiegtte, antr tis to tie gounge to pe turn 
 of pe metilep* 
 
 I * prepare with speed, 
 
 crist commyng is at hand ; 
 
 as by straing signes and tokens both 
 
 the learned sort haue stand. 4 
 
 gods workes plainly declares 
 
 each day vnto us all, 
 
 y* soddenly an end shalbe 
 
 of things on earth mortall. 8 
 
 fyre fearce abroad shall flye, 
 
 from east Tnto y« west, 
 
 consumyng things y* be earthly, 
 
 the greatest w*h y^ least. 12 
 
 no succor shalbe found 
 
 for favour, gould, nor fee ; 
 
 but even as all y^ world was drownd, 
 
 so bournt shall all things bee. 16 
 
 Wherfore I say, make no delay, 
 
 vnfolde and hould 
 
 on Christ o' only stay, 
 
 for it is hee y* remedie 20 
 
 must be we see ; 
 
 or els with open crye 
 
 we shall to hell fire, o"^ deeds deserue no les, 
 
 meet meed for o"^ hire, o"^ Hues do so expresse. 24 
 
 1 The transcriber of this poem somewliat carelessly neglected to indicate the 
 sourtfe from which it was taken, and subsequent search has not tracked it, but 
 it is hoped that it may be added in the errata. 
 
 ' Ay, 30 frequently written formerly. This has given rise to frequent puns. 
 Cf. Shakspere's "Two Gentlemen of Terona," act i. scene 1. 
 
 Froteus : But what said she ? [Speed nods.] Did she nod f 
 
 Speed: I. 
 
 Fro. : Nod, I ; why that's noddy. 
 
 So also in the Sonnets we have the following curious quibble (Sonnet cilviii.). 
 "Love's eye is not so true as all men's 'No'" — where see Mr. Staunton's note. 
 
110 The Gospel taught. 
 
 then vnto C Christ inolyne quickly, 
 
 and fly from follies desire, 
 
 and aske of him mercie for remedie, 
 
 he will not be any denier : _ 28 
 
 while life doth' last, linger not if you may haue it, 
 
 he askes but a penitent harte ; 
 
 to late will it be when tyme is gon to craue it : 
 
 make speed therfor, ere you departe. 32 
 
 Imbrace gods holy worde 
 
 for fear of watchfuU sword ; 
 
 loue well y« pouertie, 
 
 and then god will blesse thee. 36 
 
 What Realms on earth 
 may be compared to this, 
 that hath y'' gospell plainly taught P 
 it is a heauenly blisse I 40 
 
 allso a maiden meeke 
 amongst vs hee hath sent, 
 to shew his glorious wonderous workes 
 and power omnypotent. 44 
 
 she sitts in princly throwne, 
 and rules y^ Eelme in quiet ; 
 she hath aUso y* trew touchstone, 
 gods word her only dyet. 48 
 
 though foes do frett & fume, 
 yet god will blesse her still 
 with malestie and eke with crowne, 
 as is his blessed will. 52 
 
 wherfore to pray let vs not stay, 
 but be redite 
 
 to aske of Christ alwaye, 
 
 that she from strife may lead her life 56 
 
 among vs longe. 
 let these prayers be reefe^ 
 
 amonge all good christians, both day, night & howre, 
 y' god will indue her with his mightie powre ; 60 
 
 then neede we not feare any forren foes, 
 Christ wilbe her only defence, 
 o' queene she hath plentie to plucke down all thoes 
 that setteth by subtill pretence. 64 
 
 ' Eife. 
 
Ood save our little country. Ill 
 
 In each towne and oittie her grace doth delight it, 
 
 to haue gods word preached at large ; 
 
 all thinges done amisse to haue them eaue righted: 
 
 the maiestrats all she doth charge, 68 
 
 let each poore haue his wright, 
 
 oppresse no man with might ; 
 
 then god y' sits aboue 
 
 will knitt vs all in loue. 72 
 
 God grant to us 
 
 y* we may haue y^ grace 
 
 to loue o'^ queene with faithfull harte, 
 
 and his word to imbrace, 76 
 
 y* at y» latter day, 
 
 with him we may asaend 
 
 to heavenly ioyes for vs prepard 
 
 by him world w*hout end. 80 
 
 god saue England so smale,' 
 
 and nobles of y® same ; 
 
 god grant eachon y' line in thrale 
 
 may assend w*h christs name ; 84 
 
 o' commons so direct, 
 
 o lord, we thee desire, 
 
 that none of them may be infect 
 
 to taste thy wrathfull ire ; 88 
 
 and then I know, both hye and lowe 
 
 will iudg smale grudg 
 
 in england for to growe, 
 
 y* vnitie mongst men may be : 92 
 
 god graunt it haunt, 
 
 and vsen in each degree. 
 
 then shall we be glasst ^ to each towne & cittie ; 
 
 wher loue doth last loung tyme spight hath but smale pittie, 
 
 as tyme is y^ tryall for truth to be tride, 97 
 
 so all things ther beinge shall haue, 
 
 till death doth come that will haue no denial ; 
 
 bring kinde out of mind vnto graue. 100 
 
 ' Here we see how different was the position of the England of those days from 
 that which she occupies at the present time : our forefathers were proportionably 
 meek. Waller, at a suhsequent period, could only utter the mild boast — 
 " Beneath the tropics is our language spoke, 
 And part of Flanders hath received our yoke." 
 ' i.e. mirrored, 
 
 K 2 
 
112 Queen Elisabeth's rejoicing. 
 
 then riches nor beauty nor nothing will saue ts, 
 
 if we do not help o"^ pore brother ; 
 
 and if we live well y« lord god will haue vs : 
 
 we are his owne and for none other ; 104 
 
 he bought vs w^h his bloud 
 
 to taste y^ heauenly foode ; 
 
 god grant vs ther for aye 
 
 both rich and pore to staye. 108 
 
 finis. 
 
 IXueen Cli?al)et&'0 JRe/opcinff. 
 
 CoNCBKNiNG the authorship of this poem, which resembles a 
 style of writing earlier than the Elizabethan period, I am not 
 able to furnish any accurate information.^ 
 
 [Rawl. MS. C. 86, f. 1S5J.] 
 
 Myne hert is set vppone a lusty pynne ;* 
 
 I praye to venus of good continuaunce, 
 
 For I reioyse ]>^ case ]>at I am in : 
 
 Delyuerd from sorow annexed to plesaunce, 
 
 Of alle comfort havynge habundaunce ; 
 
 This ioy and I, I trust shal neuer twynne, 
 
 Myne hert is set vppone a lusty pynne. .7 
 
 I pray to venus of good continuaunce, 
 
 Sithe she hathe set me in Ji* wey of ease, 
 
 Myne hertly seruyse -with myne attendaunce. 
 
 So to contynue, ]>at ener I may please ; 
 
 Thus voydyng from alle pensful disease ; 
 
 Now stand I hole fer from all grevaunce, 
 
 I praye to venus of good continuaunce. 14 
 
 ' For the prolonged use of the thorn {}) in MSS., see some good remarks hy 
 Earle ("Philology of the English Tongue," 1st edition, 1871). This is a very 
 suggestive book, and the production of a scholar, who has thoroughly appreciated 
 the genius of the English language. 
 
 ■^ In a nierrv hnmoiir. — HiillnccU. 
 
[f. 160J 
 
 The mirroiir and star of womanhead. 113 
 
 For I reioyse Y case ]iat I am in, 
 
 My giadnesse is suche ^er greuythe me no payne, 
 
 And so to serue neuyr shal I blywne,^ 
 
 And thoghe I wolde, I may not me refrayne, 
 
 Myne herte & I so set is ce rtayne ; 
 
 We shal neuer slake, but evLer new begyne, 
 
 For I reioyse Y case \iat I am in. 21 
 
 Delyuerd from sorow annexed to plesaunce, 
 
 That alle my ioy I set as aughte of ryghte, 
 
 To please as after my symple suffisaunce, 
 
 To me Y goodlyest most beauteous insights, 
 
 A verry lanterne to ]ie al 6\ier lyghte ; 
 
 Most to my comfort on« her remembraunce, 
 
 Delyuerd from sorow annexed to plesaunce. 28 
 
 Of alle comfort havynge habundaunce, 
 
 As whane ])ai I thynke Y goodlyhed, 
 
 Of Y most femyne and meke in countenaMnce, 
 
 Verray myrrour and ster of womanhed, 
 
 Whos ryghte good fame so large a brod dothe spred : 
 
 Ful glad to me to haue congnossaunce, 
 
 Of alle comfort havyng habundaunce. 35 
 
 This ioy and I, I trust shalle neuer twyne,^ 
 
 So Jjfflt I am so fer furthe in Y trace ; 
 
 My ioyes bene dovbil wher oj^er be but thyne, 
 
 For I am stabely set in suche a place, 
 
 "Wher beaute cresithe, & euer wellythe grace, 
 
 Whiche is ful famous, & borne of nobil kyne ; 
 
 This ioy and I, I trust shal neuer twyne. 42 
 
 Finis quod Quene Elyzabeth. 
 
 ' Cease. "Til he had torned him, could he not blin." — Chaucer, "The 
 Chanones Yemannes Tale " (Tyrwhitt's ed.). 
 ' Separate. 
 
114 
 
 latin tierses on (ZEU^atiet&'s proposeri agartiage 
 toitt) anjou. 
 
 Fob tte oiroumstanoes under wHcli these verses were written, 
 see page 68 : we here get a contemporary pasquin, the form of 
 expression which public opinion takes, where free discussion is 
 denied. 
 
 [Douce MS. 363, fol. 144r.] 
 
 Vera Copia. 
 
 ™Vom'l Sola precor Tel iuncta uiro sit Virgo Britannio * 
 iome *Laa ^t fsrat ex proprio pignora gra,ta solo : 
 lost "in * Viae domi, ne non viuas Francisse, recusat 
 london. Nostra peregrinum regio ferre lugum. 
 
 Virgo valet, spirat, Regnat quo longior absis 
 Tutior enge redde (sic) Gallia, larga satis.^ 
 Pectora fide {sic) Deo, bona corpora, corda, corone * 
 Dantur, nil restat ni velis arma tibi. 
 Principes (sic) consilio viuat ut 
 opto anima suo, Oct' A° 1579. 
 
 A Method, not sharply Englished. 
 
 The kinge of firance shall not advance his shippes in English 
 
 sande, 
 He shall his brother ffrancis haue the Euleng of the lande : 
 Wee subiects trwe untill cure queene, the forraine yoke defie, 
 Where too we plight oure faithefull hartts, out lymes, owr 
 
 lyves & all, 
 thereby to have owr honor rize, or tak our fatall fall. 
 Therefore, good ffrancis. Rule at home, resist not ot«r desire ; 
 for here is notheng else for thee, but onely sworde & fyer. 
 
 ' sio. ? Britanna. 
 
 ' This line seems hopelessly corrupt. Perhaps 
 
 Tutior : en regi Gallia larga satis 
 might he suggested. 
 
 3 For " flae " and " corone " read fida and corouse. By these alterations some 
 sense may be extracted from the original. 
 
115 
 
 Cesbe'0 Ferses on tbe SDrtier of tU ©atter. 
 
 This poem has already been printed by Sir Harris Nicolas in 
 his "Orders of Knighthood," vol. ii., 1842. The MS. is on 
 vellum. In the British Museum there is "A boke containing 
 divers sortes of Hands, as ■well the English, as French Secretarie, 
 with the Italian, Eoman, Chancery and Court Hands. Also the 
 true and just proportion of the capital Eomans. Set forthe by 
 William Teshe, of the Citye of Yorke, gentleman. 1580." It is 
 dedicated to the Queen, and he begs that she will deign to accept 
 it "among the noble presents of more higher estate." Teshe 
 was probably the son of a certain Tristram Teshe of Yorke who 
 lies buried in the Cathedral with the following inscription on 
 his tomb : " Of your charity pray for the soul of Margaret Tesh, 
 wife unto Mr. Tristram Tesh, of the cittye of Yorke, Notarie 
 and principal Register of the Archbishopricke of Yorke, which 
 Margarett departed unto the mercy of Allmighty God the viiij 
 day of December, An. Dom. 1537." Teshe's verses are inscribed 
 to the Earl of Bedford. 
 
 [Harl. MS. 3437.] 
 
 [If. 1.] 
 Within a Place, or Pallace, richlye digit, 
 did sitt a Prince, and Princely Peer's attend, 
 Braue Lord's, faire Dames, and many a courtly wight : 
 the Knightes of th'order — eachone wore a Bend 
 aboute the Arme — all wayting, as it weare, 
 some heeauenly siglite, or happy tale to heare. 6 
 
 And in each Bend, enbrodred Bracelett wise, 
 
 weare certayne wordes, ymporting seuerall sence, 
 
 as best did please their Honors to devise, 
 
 the more to shewe theire loyall harts pretence ; 
 
 ffor as the Garter shew's what th'order sayth, 
 
 So by the Bend was knowne y® wearers fayth. 12 
 
 Myselfe, (alas !) the meanest of the Sorte 
 that stoode in place to see this princely sight, 
 and harde the wordes which here I shall reporte, 
 God know's bowe muche vnto my hartes delight, 
 Behelde the Queene stande vp emoungst them all, 
 Herault's cryde scylence, husht was all the Hall. 18 
 
116 The Knights of the Garter. 
 
 [If. 2.] [dra-wing.*] 
 
 " Shame to the mynde that meanes " (quod shee) " amisse," 
 
 whereby was seene her mynde did meane no ill : 
 
 " Lo ! thus, my Lordes, our verdict geuen yp is, 
 
 lett them do well that looke for our goodwill, 
 
 A quj mal pense a luy tout honj Soit : 
 
 and for myselfe, Mon Dieu et seul mon droit. 24 
 
 " Highe God " (qwod shee) " be alwayes our right hand, 
 
 and thinck on me, semper eadem, still. 
 
 He is the staye on which our harte shall stand, 
 
 our stronge defence from those that thinck vs ill ; 
 
 where wronge makes warre, we must w«th patience arme ; 
 
 Tyme trieth truthe, good myndes can meane no harme." 30 
 
 And so, me thought, shee satt her downe againe, 
 
 with Princely grace attending for the rest. 
 
 Then euery one, from hartes which coulde not fayne, 
 
 shewed forth th' aboundance of ech faithfull brest. 
 
 The Earle of Lincolne there did foremost stand, 
 
 and gaue his bend thus to her highnes hand. 36 
 
 [If. S.] [drawing.] 
 
 " Renowned Queene, cheif Souereigne of our weale, 
 
 whose happie raigne hath made vs fortunate, 
 
 Trewe were the wordes which late you did reveale, 
 
 highe Grod is hee that hath vpheld your state ; 
 
 What elce was said, wee all agree in this, 
 
 Shame be to hym that thincks or meanes amiss. 42 
 
 " A faithfull mynde doth sildome merritt blame, 
 
 which makes me saye, that Loialte n'ha hont : 
 
 Fidelitie can neuer purchase shame ; 
 
 yt springes from faith and farre doth Fame surmount : 
 
 for what maintaynes your Princely roialtye 
 
 But love of God and Subiects Loialtye ? 48 
 
 * The drawings are the Conts of Arms of each I^oble as he is described, with 
 the hcnds containing their mottoes. 
 
The Knights of the Garter. 117 
 
 " Longe maye you lyve, in peace and happie dayes, 
 
 to double twice the tracte of Nestors date, 
 
 that after worldes maye singe Tnto your praise, 
 
 in golden verse, the Tryumphes of your fate ! 
 
 Thus doo I ende, and wishe, as is my wont, 
 
 rather death then shame, Loialte n'ha hont." 54 
 
 [Edwakd Fynes-Clinton, 13th Lobd Clinton and (in 1572 
 created) Eael of Lincoln, who had been elected a Knight 
 by Edward VI. His motto was " Loyaulte n'a Eonte," He 
 was Lord High Admiral, and died 1584, being ancestor of 
 the present Dukes of Newcastle, Earls of Lincoln.] 
 
 [If. 4.] [drawing.] 
 
 " It is a prouerbe vsed everie-where, 
 
 a perfect frend is good in tyme of need ; 
 
 But well is them, that either farre or nere, 
 
 in all assayes can stande themselves in steed. 
 
 But who be they ? Then Deus propter me, 
 
 for none I fynde but Virtus propter se. 60 
 
 " Virtue alone sittes euer by herselfe, 
 
 full poore yclad, and all to totters torne ; ^ 
 
 shee' stemeth skyll, shee forceth not of pelfe, 
 
 shee laughes the worlde and worldlings all to scorne : 
 
 Fortune and shee are allwayes at a Jarre, 
 
 and vice gainst virtue maketh open warre. 66 
 
 " Thus, sacred Prince, vouchsafe here to receaue 
 
 my little Poesie, Virtus propter se, 
 
 which, as you male, with wisdome well conceaue, 
 
 So thinck I wishe, but Deum propter me, 
 
 Et sicut Virtus viuit sola spe, 
 
 Sic viuit Spes, et Virtus propter se." 72 
 
 [Thomas Eatoliffb, Skd Eael of Sussex, Loed Pitzwaltee, 
 etc. ; also elected a Knight by Edward VI. The motto of 
 this family, " Virtus propter se." He died 1583 sans issue, 
 but the title did not become extinct till 1641.] 
 
 1 To tatters. 
 
118 The Knights of the Garter . 
 
 [If. 5.] [drawing.] 
 
 " Sith Virtue is with Reason well sett owte, 
 
 Souereigne," qwod hee, " le ne pense rien que bon', 
 
 in euerie cause of certaintie or doubts 
 
 auoir respect tousiours que veut Raison, 
 
 Car la Raison en cbascun chose est bon' ; 
 
 Garde vous done que vous suiuies Raison. 78 
 
 " Over each member Reason is the Kinge, 
 
 who in the Head doth keepe his highest Courte, 
 
 and by the eyes surueyeth euerye thinge, 
 
 and throughe the eares doth harcken each reporte ; 
 
 But forth the mowth, as throughe a gate, he sendeth 
 
 euche rules of Reason as each faulte amendeth. 84 
 
 " For Reason shewes the secrett of effecte, 
 
 and what th'effects of each thinge will insue. 
 
 to Reason, then, lett all men haue respect, 
 
 least wante of care doe lack of Reason rewe : 
 
 The sage afiirme, and you shall finde it bon' 
 
 that I haue saide, tousiours Suiuez Raison." 90 
 
 [Anthony Beowne, Viscount Montagit (so created in 1554) ; 
 elected a Knight by Queen Mary, His motto, " Suivez 
 raison." He died 1592. The title is supposed to have be- 
 come extinct in 1797, though there are many claimants to it.] 
 
 [If. 6.] [drawing.] 
 
 Then stepped forth an other Princely Peere, 
 
 and from his Arme he plucked of his Bende, 
 
 with stately looke, and with a plesaunt cheere — 
 
 " I not compare " (quoth bee) " nor yett contends, 
 
 But in fewe wordes my Poesis is, and shall, 
 
 whilst lyfe of myns doth last, Droict et loiall. 96 
 
 " Right is the course which Reason doth direct, 
 
 firms is the faith that stedfast doth abide, 
 
 lust is the mynde which vice cannot detect. 
 
 True is the knott that Truthe herself hath tide : 
 
 Right, firms, lust, true, what suer shall befall, 
 
 my worde import?* my will, Droict et loiall. 102 
 
The Knights of the Garter. 119 
 
 " And so vouchsafe, sweet Souereigne, to thinck 
 
 what's saide is right, and what is right is true, 
 
 what's true is firme, whats firme can neuer shrinck, 
 
 the staff nott fall's that is vpheld by youe : 
 
 Wherfore in fine, I saye, and euer shall, 
 
 durant ma vie, Droict et Loiall." 108 
 
 [Egbert Dudley, Eael of Leicester (so created 1563), who 
 had been elected a Knight by Queen Elizabeth in 1559^ 
 The motto of this celebrated favourite of the Queen was 
 "Droit et loyal." He died without legitimate issue 1588, 
 when his honours became extinct.] 
 
 [If. 7.] [drawing.] 
 
 " The redie mynde respecteth neuer toyle, 
 
 But still is prest t' accomplish hartes intent : 
 
 A broad, at home, in euerie Coste or soyle, 
 
 the deed performes what inwardly is ment ; 
 
 which makes me saye, in euerie virtuous deed, 
 
 I still am prest t'accomplish what's decreed. 114 
 
 " But byd to goe, I redie am to ronne ; 
 
 But byd me ronne, I redie am to ryde : 
 
 To goe, ronne, ryde, or what elce to be done, 
 
 speek but the worde, and soone it shalbe tryde : 
 
 tout prest Je suis poter accomplier La chose 
 
 per tout Labour que vous pent faire repose. 120 
 
 " Prest to accomplish, what you will commaunde ; 
 
 Prest to accomplish, what you shall desire ; 
 
 Prest to accomplish, your desir's demaunde ; 
 
 Prest to accomplish, Heaven for happie hire : 
 
 Thus doe I ende, and at your will I rest, 
 
 as you shall please in euerie Action prest." 126 
 
 [George Talbot, 6th Earl of Sheewsbijrt, Earl Marshal 
 OF England; elected a Knight 1661. The motto of this 
 family, which is still in existence, is " Prest d'accomplir." 
 He died 1590.] 
 
120 The Knights of the Garter. 
 
 [If. 8.] [drairing.] 
 
 The Earle of Warwick next approched there, 
 
 whose Sentence shew'd the Imprese of his harte — 
 
 " Gfod sees our harts " (quod he) " and secrettes here, 
 
 and he rewards the Righteous by desarte : 
 
 To hym, and you, I doe protest that Foy, 
 
 that sayes, Vng Dieu, vng Eoy, seruir Je doy. 132 
 
 " By Kinge I meane my service to the Crowne, 
 
 and so to you, whome God hath crowned so ; 
 
 Which God I praie to plucke those traitors downe 
 
 that hate your state or seeke your overthrowe. 
 
 In God and you doth rest my onlye loy 
 
 that Towes vng Dieu, vng Roy, seruir Je doy. 138 
 
 " One God I haue by grace to searue and love ; 
 
 One Queene by his commaund to loue and serve ; 
 
 the one doth rest, to see in Heauen above 
 
 what wee on Earth of this one will deserue ; 
 
 Whome who meanes yll God lend hym little Joy 
 
 and lett me still, Seruir vng Dieu vng Roy." 144 
 
 [Ambkose Dudley, Eakl of Warwick (so created 1567), 
 eldest son of John, the celebrated Duke of Northumberland 
 and brother to the Earl of Leicester above named ; elected 
 a Knight 1563. His motto, " Ung Dieu, ung Boy, servir Je 
 doy." He died sans issue 1589, when his honours became 
 extinct.] 
 
 [If. 9.] [di'awing.] 
 
 " Many reporte as they of others here ; 
 
 But, as for me, Je di come Je trouue ; 
 
 even as I fynde, my meaning shall appeare, 
 
 en toutes choses come Je proue ; 
 
 Even as I proue, and as by proofe I fynde. 
 
 So shall by proofe apparaunt be my mynde. 152 
 
 " In trust sometyme is secret falshoode founde ; 
 
 but yett by triall is each treason spide : 
 
 Since triall, then, of truth descries the grounde, 
 
 tyme must bring Truth, that triall male be tride 
 
 ere trust be geuen. Wherefore, quand le proue, 
 
 I then will saye but, Come le trouue. 158 
 
The Knights of the Garter. 121 
 
 " "Where Truth I finde, there will I builde my truste ; 
 
 Where trust I finde, I will not he vntrue : 
 
 Whence fauore corn's due faithfull seruice must 
 
 approue true Mynde, that only honors you, 
 
 for virtues rare, Que verity proue 
 
 and I, by proofe, saye, Come Je trouue." 164 
 
 [Henet Cabby, Lord Hunsdon, so created 1559 by the Queen, 
 to whom he was first cousin ; elected a Knight 1561. His 
 motto was, " Gomme je trouve." He died 1596, but the title 
 continued in his descendants till the death of the 8th Lord 
 in 1765, when it became extinct. In 1832 Lucius Bentinck 
 Gary, Viscount Falkland in Scotland, who descended from 
 a common ancestor, was created Baron Hunsdon in the 
 United Kingdom.] 
 
 [If. 10.] [drawing.] 
 
 " Some sorte of men contynually forecast, 
 
 and doe dyvine of thinges which maye insue, 
 
 neuer respecting what is gone and past, 
 
 but what's to come, that deeme they wilbe true. 
 
 Though falce in fine ; for why ? by proofe we see, 
 
 che sara, sara, What shalbe, shalbe. 170 
 
 " No fatall feare, or dread of destenye, 
 
 can daunte a mynd which euer is resolv'd. 
 
 Mans thought is fraile, his forecast vanitye, 
 
 which when I ofte within my mynde revolu'd, 
 
 I tooke my pen and writt this worde for me, 
 
 Che sara, sara, what shalbe, shalbe. 178 
 
 " Per quant' a me non stimo dj Fortuna 
 
 ch'ognj cose e al voler d' Iddio, 
 
 non credo che Fortun' ha forz'alcuna : 
 
 m^ che sara sara, ben dico lo, 
 
 proui che vuol et egl'in fin dira 
 
 fa tutto Iddio, che sara sara." 182 
 
 [Feanois EussBLi, 2nd Eael or Bedfokd ; elected a Knight 
 1664 His fatalistic motto of " Che sara sara " was adopted 
 by his father, who, having, by his knowledge of Italian and 
 Spanish, been able to be of the greatest use to the Archduke 
 Philip, when shipwrecked off Weymouth, owed his favour- 
 able introduction to the English Court and his subsequent 
 advancement to that piece of fortune. He died 1585, being 
 ancestor of the present Dukes of Bedford.] 
 
122 The Knights of the Garter. 
 
 [If. no [drawing.] 
 
 " Strange be th'events, Most Sacred Maiestye, 
 
 which hap to man whilst hee doth breathe on earthe, 
 
 Somemen are borne to care and miserye, 
 
 and othersome to lyue in loye and Merthe ; 
 
 Somemen by trauaile passe both Land and Seas, 
 
 Whilst some at home doe lyue in rest and ease. 188 
 
 " Which when I thinck and meditate vpon, 
 
 I smile at some, and pittie others hap : 
 
 But lett that pass : — why shoulde I muse theron ? 
 
 All men cannott haue place in Fortunes lap. 
 
 As for myselfe, I doe not meane to trie. 
 
 But Quo me fata vocant, there will I. 194 
 
 " You Fatall Sisters, websters ^ of my lyfe, 
 
 Spin slowe, wynde softe, and cutt not yet my twyne. 
 
 Sweet Atropos, vnsheathe not yet thy knyfe ; 
 
 But lett mee lyue, to searue this Prince of myne, 
 
 Abroade, at home, or where your Highnes please, 
 
 Or, Quo me Fata Vocant, Land or Seas." 200 
 
 [Sir Hbnet Sydney; elected a Knight in 1564, being then 
 Lord President of Wales. He was subsequently three times 
 Lord Deputy of Ireland, and was brother-in-law to the 
 Queen's favourite — the Earl of Leicester, whose sister he 
 had married. By her he was father of the celebrated Sir 
 Philip Sydney and of Sir Eobert Sydney, created in 1618 
 Earl of Leicester, a title which became extinct in 1743. 
 His motto of " Quo Fata vocant " is used by his present 
 representative, the Lord De Lisle and Dudley. He died in 
 1586.] 
 
 [If. 12.] [drawing.] 
 
 " To chaunge, or feare, proceed's of Dastard mynde : 
 
 to doe the one or other I despise. 
 
 Fonde be those men that tourne with euerie wynde, 
 
 and feares ech blast or storme that doth arise. 
 
 As for myself, I trust in God, and you, 
 
 neuer to chaunge, or feare what shall insue. 206 
 
 ^ "Weavers. The feminine of weaver. 
 
The Knights of the darter. 123 
 
 " Ohaunge will I not the constant loue I beare, 
 
 Feare will I not the force of Portun's spighte : 
 
 Thus doe I meane to neither chaunge or feare, 
 
 But in a staye to settle my delighte, 
 
 Lett fleeting mynd's of Fortune be afraide ; 
 
 "Where firmnes rest's, the harte is well apaide. 212 
 
 " In choise of Chaunge, Feare doth affirme the worss ; 
 
 In Feare, the Harte can lye at little rest ; 
 
 and restles Hart's can haue no greater curss ; 
 
 and curssed Hart's are seeld ^ or neuer blest : 
 
 Itane ? sic. cum hoc tam certum cerno 
 
 dicam, Mutare vel timere sperno." 218 
 
 [William Somerset, 3ed Eael of Woeoestek; elected a 
 Knight 1570. His motto, " Mutare vel timere sperno." He 
 died 1589, being grandfather of Henry, the loyal Marquess 
 of Worcester (so created 1642), and ancestor of the present 
 Dukes of Beaufort, Marquesses and Earls of Worcester.] 
 
 [If. 13.] [drawing.] 
 
 " Of God and Man, what more esteemd then Truth ? 
 
 Of Prince and Peere, what more then truth in price ? 
 
 Not glozing ^ lests that euerie gallante doth. 
 
 The Truth is that is honored of the wise ; 
 
 And though that Truth vnwares male purchase blame, 
 
 Truth wilbe Truth, in spite of all defame. 224 
 
 " The purest golde lyes hidd in dross and mire, 
 
 And precious stones mongst ragged Rocks do growe ; 
 
 But as the one is purified by fire, 
 
 So are the other puUished also. 
 
 And as they both by Art are made most bright, 
 
 So' Tyme bringes Truth by triall vnto light. 230 
 
 " Thoughe burnisht Brass maie shyne as bright as golde, 
 
 Yet Truth the Touchstone fyndeth it but brass ; 
 
 Thoughe foyled glass seeme precious to beholde, 
 
 yett truth will knowe it for a peece of glass : 
 
 So Truth in aU thinges doth the virtue trie : — 
 
 In veritate Tictoria, therfore, saye I." 236 
 
 ' Seldom. ' Deceitful, flattering. 
 
124 The Knights of the Garter. 
 
 [Hbnrt Hastings, 3kd Eakl op Huntingdon; elected a 
 Knight 1570. Died sans issue 1595. T!hQ moiio, " In veritate 
 victoria," was doubtless used by bim, but that on his Garter 
 plate is "La Victoire vient de Dieu." The title is still 
 enjoyed by the descendants of his younger brother.] 
 
 [If. 14.] [drawing.] 
 
 With that stept forth a graue sage Lorde indeed, 
 
 with countenaunce milde, and with as comely grace. 
 
 " Madame," quod hee, " not many wordes shall need 
 
 to shewe in summe where virtue keeps her place ; 
 
 per quanto a me, questa e sententia mia, 
 
 proua che vuol. Cor vnum vna via. 242 
 
 " One Harte to Prince, state, selfe, and Cuntries heale, 
 
 one Loue, one losse, one Joy, one greife, one gall, 
 
 one mynde, one meane, one will, one wishe, one weale, 
 
 one good, one god, one but one all in all, 
 
 one happ, one Heauen, which vna sola via. 
 
 Cor vnum querit, quel mio, quella mia." 248 
 
 And ther with all, hee gaue her from his Arme 
 
 a brave riche Bende, wheron was rarely writ, 
 
 aboute a Harte, that neuer meaneth harme, 
 
 and but one waye seekes happie Heauen to hitt. 
 
 " Nel Cuore mio, questa e sententia mia, 
 
 Proua Troua, Cor vnum vna via." 254 
 
 [William Cecil, Lord Burleigh (so created 1571), the 
 celebrated Lord High Treasurer; elected a Knight 1572, 
 The motto, " Gor unum, via una," although doubtless used by 
 him (as it is by his descendants), is not the one given in his 
 Garter plate, which is " Honneur layer et loyaulte." He died 
 1598, and was succeeded by his son, created 1605 Earl of 
 Exeter, and was the ancestor of the present Marquesses of 
 Exeter, and of the Marquesses of Salisbury.] 
 
 [If, 16.] [di-awing.] 
 
 By order next a Baron then came forth, 
 
 and humbly there — " Renowned Queene," quoi he, 
 
 " by due desarte esteeme eche vertues worth, 
 
 I saye no more, but fort' en loyalte : 
 
 my greatest force, I thinck, I best bestows 
 
 in service suche as maye my duety showe. 260 
 
The Knights of the Garter. 125 
 
 " If Fortune frowne, why then in her despight ; 
 
 and yf shee smyle, I trust her nere y^ more : 
 
 doe what shee can, I feare not of her might : 
 
 lett fortune goe, sett only God before 
 
 in all affaires, ho detto et diro, 
 
 che die volendo, lo lo faro." 264 
 
 And therwithall he plucked from' his Arme 
 
 theis wordes in golde enbrodred faire to see, 
 
 " Dogge be his death that meanes Diana harme, 
 
 Dominus videt, Fort' en loyalte." 
 
 Then stood he by, when as, w«th reuerence lowe, 
 
 an other Peere his seemely selfe did showe. 270 
 
 [Arthur Grey, 15th Lord Grey de Wilton; elected a 
 Knight . The motto here assigned to him, "Forte en 
 loyalte," is not the motto on his Garter plate, which is " At 
 Vincit pawperiem Virtus" and which was also used at his 
 funeral. He died 1593. By the attainder of his ' son in 
 1604, this title became forfeited. But in 1784 Sir Thomas 
 Egerton, who descended from a sister of the attainted Lord, 
 was .created Baron Grey de Wilton (which became extinct 
 on his death in 1814). In 1801, however, he had been 
 created Viscount Grey de Wilton and Earl of Wilton, with 
 a special remainder to the Grosvenor family, by whom those 
 titles are still enjoyed.] 
 
 [If. 16.] [dravfing.] 
 
 " Weake is the faith that fleet's with everie wynde ; 
 
 True is the harte that neuer meanes to starte ; 
 
 A stedfast course male shewe a stayed mynde, 
 
 and carefuU zeale express a constant harte, 
 
 that in despight of Tout mortal daunger, 
 
 shall searue but you, et tousiours sans chaunger. 276 
 
 " Lyke to the Moone, that Moonthly chaungeth newe, 
 
 I male compare a fleeting fickle mynde ; 
 
 For when her full shee geues the worlde to vewe, 
 
 her wayne is nearest then by course of kynde : 
 
 So wavering witt's the farder that they raunge, 
 
 theire suddeyn wane presadgeth speedy chaunge. 282 
 
 III. ^ 
 
126 The Knights of the Garter. 
 
 " But constant Myndes are lyke vnto the Sonne, 
 
 whose certayne course doth neuer runne astraye ; 
 
 For though e with Clowdes it ofte be overdonne, 
 
 yett shyneth it in darcknes wismen saye : 
 
 So thoughe with cares sweet virtue clowded be 
 
 yet Sans chaunger virtue will virtue be." 288 
 
 [Henry Stanley, 4th Eaei. of Derby, whose wife was first 
 cousin (once removed) to the Queen, being grand-daughter 
 of Mary Tudor ; elected a Knight 1574. His motto, " Sans 
 changer," is the same now used by the present Earl of 
 Derby, his heir male. He died 1592.] 
 
 [If. 17.] [drawiilff.] 
 
 A worthy Earle in place there did appeare, 
 
 who thus began, " Bien, vng Je seruiray. 
 
 One I will searue, which one in presence here ; 
 
 and one aboue, whome no one maie saye naye, 
 
 which one on high is but that only one, 
 
 that makes my harte to seme this one alone. 294 
 
 " To serue and love, to love and eke to serue ; 
 
 to serue with lone, and loue by service showe ; 
 
 to shewe the due that fauore maj'e deserue ; 
 
 to merritt well, and wish ech one do so : 
 
 to wish, and will, to serue, and still to loue, 
 
 one Queene on Earth, one God in heauen above. 300 
 
 "A Phenix hath no fellowe to be founde ; 
 
 Blest be the Birde, and she that is as rare : 
 
 Excellence shewes where virtue is the grounde, 
 
 suche fruicts doe growe as only Heauenly are, 
 
 and ending thus, Je di et bien diray, 
 
 Vng Je ayne, et vng Je seruiraJ^" 306 
 
 [Henry Herbert, 2nd Earl of Pembroke ; elected a Knight 
 1574. His motto " Ung je serviray." He was the husband 
 of the lady immortalized by Ben Jonson as "Sydney's 
 sister, Pembroke's mother," who died 1621. The Earl died 
 1601, being ancestor of the present Earls of Pembroke and 
 Montgomery.] 
 
The Knights of the Garter. 127 
 
 [If. 18.] [drawing.] 
 
 Then did approche A Baron standing by, 
 
 " Souereigne," c^uoA. hee, " Je vous diray vne chose ; 
 
 You maie Conceaue, and he that list to trye 
 
 shall finde by proofe, que Desir n'ha repose ; 
 
 Myselfe haue tride, and harde it ofte confest, 
 
 that in respect Desire doth neuer rest. 312 
 
 " Desire doth sett both witt and will to worke, 
 
 Desire doth worke in secrett of devise, 
 
 Desire doth seeke where secrett's closlye lurke. 
 
 Desire discryes the dutye of the wise. 
 
 Desire is suche as worlde cannot inclose, 
 
 which makes me saye, Desir n'ha repose. 318 
 
 " Desire sometyme doth sore aboue the skyes, 
 Desire agayne doth penetrate the Earth, 
 ore Sea and Lande Desire fleeting flyes, 
 • one while in care, an other while in Myrth : 
 So that Desire, amid'st Ten thowsand wose, 
 both lyves and dyes, Et iamais n'ha repose." 324 
 
 [Charles Howard, 2nd Lord Howard or Effingham ; 
 elected a Knight in 1575 ; created Earl of Nottingham 1597; 
 Lord High Admiral, etc. His motto, " Besir na repos." He 
 died 1624, and was succeeded by his two sons in succession, 
 on the death of the last of whom, in 1681, the Earldom of 
 Nottingham became extinct, but the Barony descended to the 
 descendants of a younger son of the first Lord, and is still 
 enjoyed by the present Earl of Effingham.] 
 
 [If. 19.] [drawing.] 
 
 Then last of all came forth, with comlye grace, 
 
 a grave good Sir, who saide, " ludicio meo ; 
 
 Fortune do the beare a duble dealing face; 
 
 I seeke for noughte but Auspicante Deo, 
 
 And helpe me, God, my harte hath his desire, 
 
 no hap to heauen, once there I wish no higher. 330 
 
 " If God before I foUowe with goodwill ; 
 If god geue helpe, I wishe no better hap ; 
 If God geue hap, it cannot fall owte yll : 
 well springes the tree where god doth geue y° sap : 
 wherfore saye I, that in ludicio meo, 
 
 nothing thryues well but Auspicante Deo. 336 
 
 1 2 
 
128 The Knights of the Garter. 
 
 " And God at hand nothing can thrive amiss, 
 
 for God doth helpe the hoping harte at need : 
 
 Both highe and lowe will all agree in this, 
 
 God guyde the hand, the worke will better speed ; 
 
 Then take of me this worde, Judicio meo, 
 
 I worke and wishe but Auspicante Deo." 342 
 
 [Sib Feancis Walsingham, Principal Secretary of State, 
 appointed Chancellor of the Order 22 April, 1578, which 
 he resigned ten years afterwards. His motto, "Auspicante 
 Deo." This oflSce has since 1671 been held, by the Bishop 
 in whose diocese Windsor is situated.] 
 
 [If. 20.] 
 
 Thus when eche one had geuen vp his Bende,- 
 
 her Highnes rose from forth her cheare of state — 
 
 " I thancke you all," quod shee, " and for an ende, 
 
 Longe male your dayes with myne rest fortunate \" 
 
 Wherwith they all made humble reverence then, 
 
 and all th'assembly saide thereto, " Amen ! " 348 
 
 The Trumpettes blewe, and Heralds lowd did call, 
 
 " Sortez, Seigneurs, chascun a son Logis." 
 
 The Nobl's rose, and thence departed all, 
 
 them to. disrobe, as vse and custome is; 
 
 And as the Earle of Bedforde past by, 
 
 " nowe, good my Lorde, remember me," quod I. 354 
 
 Wm. Teshe. 
 
 Guilielmus Tesheus .". composuit, scripsit, et pinxit: 
 An" Doin 1582. 
 
 In an old MS. in the Herald's College, marked "2* E. 8," 
 part 2, page 2, occurs : " The proper woi-ds of the Lords of the 
 Order of the Garter. 
 
 The Queues, Semper eadem. 
 
 The Empror, Plus ultra. 
 
 The Kinge of Spayne, Nee spe nee metu. 
 
The Knights of the Garter. 
 
 129 
 
 The Duke of Sayvoye, 
 
 The Duke of Memorancy, 
 
 The Duke of Hoist,' 
 
 Erie of Arundell, 
 
 Erie of Darby, 
 
 The Marques of Wynchester, 
 
 Erie of Penbrok, 
 
 The Duke of Norfolke, 
 
 The Lord Clynton, 
 
 The L. Pagett, 
 
 The Mquis Northamp, 
 
 Erie of Westmoreland, 
 
 Erie of Eutland, 
 
 The ,L. W. Haward, 
 
 Erie of Sussex, 
 
 Erie of Shrewsbery, 
 
 L. of Loughborough,^ 
 
 Viscount Montague, 
 
 Erie of Lesteter, 
 
 L. Grey Wylton, 
 
 L. of Hunsden, 
 
 Erie of Bedford, 
 
 Fert, Fert. 
 AttKuvo^. 
 
 Virtutis laus actio. 
 
 Sans changier. 
 
 Aymes loyalte. 
 
 Tine je serviray. 
 
 Sola virtus invicta. 
 
 Loyalte na honte. 
 
 Per il sua contrario. 
 
 Amour avecque loyalte. 
 
 Esperance me com/orte. 
 
 Pour y parvenier. 
 
 Desire na repos. 
 
 Virtus propter se. 
 
 Prest accompUr. 
 
 La victoire vient de Dieu. 
 
 Suyves raison. 
 
 Droict et loyal. 
 
 [illegible.] 
 
 Gome je treuve. 
 
 Che sara sara." 
 
 In 1582 three stalls were vacant, and of the foreign knights — 
 viz. The Emperor Kudolph (of Germany), The King of Spain, 
 The King of France, The King of Denmark, Duke of Holstein, 
 Casimir Count Palatine — our author takes no notice, giving the 
 mottoes only of the sixteen English Knights and of the Chancellor, 
 which (with the above nine) makes up the complete number of 
 twenty-five. It is somewhat curious that the Chancellor of the 
 Order is treated by Teshe in the same way as an actual Knight. 
 
 ^ " Jealousy of the power of Eric (King of Sweden) had induced the King of 
 Denmark to' set up a rival suitor in the person of Adolphus, Duke of Holstein. 
 The prince was young, handsome, and (which exalted him more in the eyes, of 
 Elizabeth) a soldier and a conqueror. On his arrival, he was received with 
 honour, and treated with peculiar kindness. He loved and was beloved. The 
 Queen made him Knight of the Garter ; she granted him a pension for life ; still, 
 she could not be induced to take him for her husband." — Lingard, vol. vi. p. 32. 
 
 * Henry Hastings, who succeeded his father in 1560 as Earl of Huntingdon, 
 had been previously summoned (viz. in 1558) as Lord Htistings, and from his 
 connexion with Loughborough was doubtless often called Lord of Loughborough. 
 
130 
 
 [Ash. MS. 36, 37, fol. 303.] 
 
 Co m msm ^ma of famoge memorp mi^mtf) 
 %fit gumlile petttton of ficr note toretcficiJ anD ton= 
 mtiptifile pe (2Dom»2OJi0 of dtnglaniK* 
 
 This lamentation is, on the whole, not a dull production. The 
 writer, whoever he was, must have been an enthusiastic admirer 
 of the " Maiden Queen." Perhaps the lines — 
 
 " No snuffling raskall, with his home pipe nose, 
 Shall tell thy story in his ill-tun'd prose — 
 
 show him to have had a certain hostility to the Puritans. We 
 seem to have a foretaste in them of some of the happiest pas- 
 sages of Hudibras. 
 
 If Sa"'' in lieauen can either see or heare, 
 
 Or helpe poore mortalls, then lende thine eare ; 
 
 Locke doune, blest S°', and hears, o heare vs now, 
 
 Whose humble heartes low as o'' knees do bow. 4 
 
 Looke on our sufferings, thinks but on o'' wrongs. 
 
 That hardly can bee spoke w* mortall toungs. 
 
 bes not now Issss gratiouss then of olde, 
 
 When sach distressed vassall might bss bolde^ 8 
 
 In to thy open handes to put his greife. 
 
 And thence rscsaus timsly and faire rslsife ; 
 
 Bss not lesse good, lesse gratiouss then bsfore. 
 
 In Hsausn, y® supplications of y® poore 12 
 
 Are* beards as soons as suitss of grsatsst kings. 
 
 If o'' petitions, then (Blest Set), want wings 
 
 To mounts thsm to the ludgs of ludges throne, 
 
 O helps thsn (mighty Soueraine !) w"* thine owne ; 16 
 
 Carry o' iust complaintes, since lust they ar, 
 
 And make a tendar of them at y* Barr 
 
 ' The same method of hearing petitions is alluded to by Puttenham in the 
 poem previously given [ante page 90, lines 507-9) : 
 
 " And take the bills with thine owne hande 
 Of clowne and carle, of knight and swayne. 
 Who list to thee for right coniphiyne." 
 It is the well-known and favourite trick of personal government. Miss Strickland 
 (•'Lives of the Queens of England," vol. vii. p. 127) has told us: 
 
 " In her progresses she was always most easy of approach; private persons, and 
 magistrates, men, women, and children, came joyfully, and without any fear, to 
 
 wait upon her and to see her She took with her own hand, and read with 
 
 the greatest goodness, the petitions of the meanest rustics, and disdained not to 
 speak kindly to them, and to assure them that she would take a particular care 
 of their affairs." — That Elizabeth knew how to make herself a popular sovereign 
 in this respect and all others is palpable to any one who studies hor character fairly. 
 
Greai Eliza. 131 
 
 "Where no corruption, nor no FreincTe, nor Bribe, 
 
 Nor griping Lawier, auaritiouse Scribe, ' 20 
 
 No Fauorite, no Parasite, nor Minion, 
 
 Can either leade, or alter y^ opinion 
 
 Of y' greate Chancellor ; — theire lay them doune. 
 
 And meritt praise on earth, in heauen renowne. 24 
 
 Where to begin (deseniar of all glory). 
 
 Or how to tell our vnexampled story, 
 
 Heauen knows wee do not know ; nay, w*"* is worst, 
 
 Thy once blest subiects haue so oft been curst 28 
 
 For offering vp petitions in this kinde. 
 
 As still wee tremble, till wee call to minde 
 
 Thy woonted goodnesse : that, 6h y' doth cheare vs, — 
 
 That only giues vs hope y' thou wilt heare vs. 32 
 
 When Heauen was pleasd (Blest S°') to call thee hence. 
 
 And so make wretched (for some great offence) 
 
 This littell He, Oh then began our feares ; 
 
 Oh had wee then y® kingdome drown'd in teares, 36 
 
 And in y° floods conuaied our soules to Heauen, 
 
 To waite on thine, we had not now beene driuen 
 
 To cry, and call thee from thy fellow Saincts 
 
 To heare, and pitty these our iust complaintes. 40 
 
 pardon these our grosse omissions. 
 
 And deigne to furthar these our poor petitions. 
 
 And wee will make the name of great Eliza 
 
 Equall y® honors of y' great Maria. 44 
 
 No snuffling raskall, w"" his home pipe nose, 
 
 Shall tell thy story in his ill-tun'd prose ; 
 
 Nor show thy statue to each petty groome : 
 
 Thy monument wee'le builde shall make proude Roome 48 
 
 On Pilgremage to come, ad at thy Shrine 
 
 Offer theire giftes, as to a thing diuine. 
 
 And on thy altar, fram'd of richest stones, 
 
 We'le daily tendar teares, and sighs, and grones. 52 
 
 Eternity shall sleepe, and long'-tounged fame 
 
 Forget to speake e're wee forgett thy name. 
 
 Reade (blessed Soule), o reade it, and beleeue vs; 
 
 Then giue it to his handes y' can releeue vs. 56 
 
 Thy perpetuall and faithfull Beadesmen 
 the distressed comons of Enghinde. 
 
132 
 
 [Harl. MS. 367, leaf 151.] 
 
 •CBp Sim'cotvt to tf)t ILibElI talleO 
 
 CgE €om»«on0 teare0 : 
 •Cfie toipei: of tfie pjoplE0 tearesi, 
 
 Cfie Orptr top of itoiiht^ aiUi ftattgt 
 
 Of this poem, which breathes the very spirit of the servile reign 
 of the First James, I cannot discover the author. Whoever he 
 was, he was well penetrated with the doctrine of the divine right 
 of kings, one of the favourite points advocated by the British 
 Solomon. His adulation reaches its height in such lines as — 
 " God and kings doe pace together." 
 
 stay your teares, you who complaine, 
 and saye as babes doe all in vaine. 
 
 Purblind people, why doe you prate ? 
 
 too shallows for the depth of state, 4 
 
 You cannot iudge whats truely myne, 
 
 who see noe farther than the rine.' 
 Kings walke the milkye heavenly way ; 
 
 but you by bye pathes gad astray. 8 
 
 God and Kings doe pace together ; 
 
 but vulgars wander light as feather. 
 
 1 should be sorry you should see 
 
 Tay actions before they be 12 
 
 brought to the full of my desires : 
 
 god aboue men Kings inspires. 
 Hold you the publique beaten way ; 
 
 wonder at Kings, and them obey ; 16 
 
 For vnder God they are to chuse 
 
 what rights to take, what to refuse. 
 Whereto, if you will not consent, 
 
 yet hold your peace, least you repent, 20 
 
 And be corrected for yotw- pride, 
 
 that Kings designes dare thus deride, 
 by raylinge rymes and vauntinge verse, 
 
 which, your Kings breast should neuer peirce. 24 
 
 ' Rind. " d has a great affinity for «, and often is brought into a word by 
 the » as a sort of shadow. In the words impound, expound, from the Latin 
 impono, expono, the rf is a pure English addition; so likewise in sound from 
 French son, Latin soniis. Provincial phonetics go slill further, und call a gown 
 gownd." — Earle, Philology of the English Tongue, 1st edition, 1871. 
 
Play not with Kings. 133 
 
 Eeligion is the right of Kings, 
 
 and they knowe best what good it brings ; 
 Whereto you must submitt your deeds, 
 
 or be puld vp like stinkinge weeds. 28 
 
 Kings euer vse there instruments, 
 
 of whome they iudge by the events ; 
 The good they cherish and advance, 
 
 and many things may come by chance. 32 
 
 Content your selues with such as I 
 
 shall take neare me & place high. 
 The men you mou'd seru'd in there tyrae, 
 
 and soe may myne, as cleare of cryme. 36 
 
 All seasons haue there proper vents, 
 
 and bringe forth seuerall events ; 
 Whereof the choice doth rest in Kings, 
 
 who punish and reward them brings. 40 
 
 0, what a callinge were a Kinge 
 
 if he might giue or take nothinge 
 
 but such as you shall to him bringe ! 
 Such were a Kinge but in a playe, , 44 
 
 if he might beare noe greater swaye ; 
 leaf 161 b. ^jjjj ^jjgjj were you in worser case, 
 
 if soe to keep your ancient face ; 
 Your face would soone outface his might, 48 
 
 if soe you would abridge his right. 
 Alas ! fond men, play not w?th Kings, 
 
 With Lyons clawes, or serpents stings ; 
 They kill euen by there sharpe aspect ; 52 
 
 the ptoudest mynde they can deiect ; 
 Make wretched the most mighty man, 
 
 though he doe mutinye what he can. 
 your censures are a hurryinge round, 56 
 
 that rise as vapours from the ground. 
 I knowe when it shalbe most fitt, 
 
 w«th whome to fill and empty it. 
 The Parliamewt I will appoint 60 
 
 when I see things more out of ioynt. 
 Then will I sett all wrye things straight, 
 
 and not vpon your pleasure waite ; 
 where if you speake as wise men should ; 64 
 
 if not, by me you shalbe schoold. 
 was euer Kinge calld to account, 
 
 or euer mynde soe high did mount 
 
134 Keep every man his rank. 
 
 as for to knowe the cause and reason, 68 
 
 and to appoint tlie meanes and season, 
 when Kings should aske there subiects ayde ? 
 
 Kings cannott soe be made afrayde ; 
 Kings will comwand, and find the way 72 
 
 how all of you may easiest paye, 
 w^«ch they'le lay out as they thinke best, 
 
 in ernest, and sometymes in iest. 
 what counsells should be ouerthrowne 76 
 
 if all were to the people knowne I 
 And to noe vse were Counsell Tables, 
 
 if State afiaires were publique babies. 
 I make noe doubt all wise men knowe 80 
 
 this were the way to all our woe ; 
 For ignorance of causes makes 
 
 soe many grosse and foule mistakes. 
 The modell of our Princely match 84 
 
 you cannot make, but marre or patch. 
 Alas ! how weake would proue your care ! 
 
 wish onely you his best welfare, 
 yowr patience cannot waite our ends, 88 
 
 soe mixt they are twixt foes & frends ; 
 whereof againe, ne're seeinge people, 
 
 straine not to see soe high a steeple : 
 Looke on the ground whereon you goe, 92 
 
 higher aspects will bringe yowr woe. 
 Take heed jour places all be true ; 
 
 doe not discontents renue ; 
 Meddle not w«th your Princes cares : 96 
 
 for who soe doth, too much he dares. 
 I doe desire noe more of you, 
 
 but to knowe me as I knowe you ; 
 Soe shall I loue, & you obey, lOO 
 
 & you loue me in a right way. 
 O make me not ynwillinge still, 
 
 whome I would saue, vnwillinge kill : 
 Examples in extremity 104 
 
 are neuer the best remedy : 
 Thus haue I pleasd my selfe, not you, 
 
 and what I say you shall find true. 
 Keepe euery man his ranke and place, 108 
 
 and feare to fall in my disgrace. 
 
 leaf 1S2. 
 
The Cradle Kings. 135 
 
 You call our children chidds ^ of state, 
 
 you claime a right Tnto their fate ; 
 But knowe you must be pleasd weth what 112 
 
 shall please vs best in spite of that. 
 Kings doe make lawes to bridle you, 
 
 w/Mch they may pardon, or imbrue 
 there hands in the best blood you haue, 116 
 
 and send the greatest to his graue. 
 The Charter, which, you great doe call, 
 
 came first from Kings, to stay yowr fall : 
 From an vniust rebellion, moued 120 
 
 by such as Kingdomes little loued. 
 Imbrace noe more you well may hold, 
 
 as often doth the ouerbold. 
 As they did who jour Charter sought . 124 
 
 For there owne greatnesse, who soe wrought 
 
 With Kings and you, that all prou'd nought. 
 The loue that Kings haue to you borne 
 
 moud them thereto for to be sworne ; 123 
 
 For where smale goods are to be gott 
 
 were knowne to them thai knowes vs not. 
 yet you, that knowe me all soe well, 
 
 why doe you push me downe to hell 132 
 
 by makeinge me an Infidell ? 
 Tis true I am a cradle Kinge,^ 
 
 yet doe remember euery thinge 
 That I have heretofore put out, 1 36 
 
 and yet begin not for to doubt. 
 Oh how grosse is yoMr device, 
 
 change to impute to Kings as vice ! 
 The wise may chaunge, yet free from fault ; 140 
 
 though change to worse is euer nought. 
 Kings euer overreach you all, 
 
 and must stay you, though thai ther all fall. 
 Kings cannot comprehended be 144 
 
 in Com/wons mouths, coniure ye 
 all what you can, by teares or termes, 
 
 deny not what the Kinge affirmes. 
 
 ' Probably the same as the word "chits" still found in provincial dialects. 
 Cf. Halliwell, Chit, a forward child. 
 
 * Probably referring to the circumstance that James was proclaimed king 
 while an infant of little more than a twelvemonth old, owing to the deposition 
 of his mother (July 24, 1567). 
 
136 The King's Angry Brow. 
 
 He doth disdaine to cast an eye 14S 
 
 of anger on you, least you dye, 
 euen at the shadowe of his face ; 
 
 yet giues to all thai sue for grace. 
 I knowe my freinds, I need noe teachinge ; 152 
 
 prowd is the foolish ouerreachinge. 
 leaf 162 b. Qojjjg counsell me when I shall call ; 
 
 wherefore beware of what may fall. 
 Kings will hardly take advice 156 
 
 of Counsells ; they are wondrous nice ; 
 Loue and wisedome lead them still 
 
 there Counsell tables vp to fill : 
 They need not helpes in there choice ; 160 
 
 the best advice is there owne voice, 
 And be assured that such be Kings 
 
 as they vnto there Counsell brings, 
 w^jch alwayes soe commended are 164 
 
 as some would make, & some would marre. 
 If I once bend my angry browe, 
 
 your ruine comes, though not as now ; 
 For slowe I am reuenge to take, 168 
 
 and your amendmewts wrath will slake. 
 Then hold your pratlinge, spare yo«r penne, 
 
 be honest and obedient men ; 
 vrge not my Justice, I am slowe 172 
 
 to giue you yowr deserued woe : 
 If proclamacfons ^ will not serue, 
 
 I must doe more peace to preserue. 
 To keep all in obedience, 176 
 
 to driue such busie bodies hence. 
 
 ' By statute 31 Henry VIII. the proclamations of the sovereign were declared 
 as valid as acts of parliament, although, it is true, certain restrictions were Im- 
 posed. Many of these rescripts, as they might justly be called, were very 
 whimsical. Thus in 1580 the erection of houses within three miles of London 
 was forbidden, on account of the too great increase of the city. 
 
137 
 
 [Ash. MS. 36, 37, f. 303.] 
 
 Co tl)z most Ush anu migbtp, t&c most piouse 
 am mertifull, pe tgeife Chancellor of ^zamn anti 
 SIuD^e of dEartfij 
 
 Cfie mo0t gumblE ^ttitiom of p« pooce tii0tw00eii 
 Commons of long afflimo Q^nglantiE* 
 
 The production of some poetaster who, at the beginning of the 
 reign of James I., bewails the lost glories of the Elizabethan 
 epoch. The lamentation upon the death of Prince Henry, James's 
 eldest son, which occurred Nov. 6th, 1612, probably shows the 
 author to have been a Puritan, and will assist in fixing the date 
 of the poem. 
 
 If bleeding soules, deiected heartes, find grace, 
 
 Then, all disposer, turne not back thy face 
 From vs thy supplicants. Thrice Heauens Suns have worne 
 
 Their Summer sutes, since wee began to mourne ; 4 
 
 Egipts ten plagues wee haue indur'd twise tolde. 
 
 Since blest Eliza was with Saincts inrol'de. 
 Thy messengers of wrath theire violls power 
 
 Each day vpon our heads ; nay, euery hower 8 
 
 Plagues begett plagues, and fruitefuU vengeance growes, 
 
 As if there were no ende sett to our woes. 
 Haue our black sinnes (0 Grod) raised such a cloude 
 
 Twixt Heauen and vs, as cryes, though ne're so loude, 12 
 Can get no passage to thy mercy seate ? 
 
 Are our iniquities (good God) so greate. 
 So infinite, as neither grones nor teares 
 
 Can entertainement gett ? Eemember but y® yeares ^ 6 
 Of 0' affliction ; then forgett, we crane. 
 
 Our sins ; bury them in y® deepest graue 
 Of darke obliuion ; hide them in y° side 
 
 Of our Redeemer : o let them bee tide 20 
 
 In chaines, y* they may neuar rise again. 
 
 Lett vs no longer sue, or cry in vaine ; 
 Lett this our supplication, this complainte. 
 
 Tendered by our late Souereigne thy Sainct, 24 
 
138 Prince Henry, 
 
 ■• 
 
 At last finde grace. Wast not, wee humbly pray, 
 
 Enough y' first thou tookest y' Queene away ? 
 Was not y' Doue, y* Lambe of innocence, 
 
 Sufficient sacrifise for our oflfence ? 28 
 
 Ah, no ! our sins oute liu'd her, and our crimes 
 
 Did threaten to outeliue y® last of times. 
 Thou didst remoue her y' shee might not see 
 
 The sad beginnings of our misery. 32 
 
 Had Egipt thicker darkenesse then had wee. 
 
 When clearest eyes at mid day coulde not see ? 
 Vnholsom mistes, strange foggs, rumors of warrs, 
 
 Euill portending Commetts, biasing starrs, 30 
 
 Prodigiou'se births, and most viiwaturall seasons. 
 
 Putting Philosophers quite besides theire reasons, 
 Frightning y^ poore, and y^ ritch exhorting 
 
 To leaue theire downy beds, wheare they ly snorting. 40 
 Heauen in combustion seemes, y® sky in armes. 
 
 The Starrs beate drums, y® Spheares do sounde alarums. 
 The aire did often bloody cullers spredd. 
 
 And all to rouse vs from y® lazy bedd 44 
 
 Of base Security : yet nought woulde fright vs, 
 
 Till wee weere rob'd of what did most delite vs, 
 Henry our ioy.^ Henry, whose euery limme 
 
 Threatned to conquer death, and not death him : 48 
 
 Henry y® pride, eauen Hen^^ry y^ blest. 
 
 On whome great Britaine sett vp her greate rest : 
 Who had not in y* one an ample share ? 
 
 What Subiect had not rather lost his Heyre ? 52 
 
 ' Prince Henry, eldest sou of James, to whom Queen Elizabeth was god- 
 mother, born Feb. 19, 1593, died Nov. 6, 1612. The young prince was very 
 popular, especially among the Puritan party, who were in the habit of saying — 
 •" Henry the Eighth pulled down the abbeys and cells, 
 But Henry the Ninth shall pull down bishops and beUs.'' 
 Very extravagant hopes were formed of this youth, which perhaps had in reality 
 but little foundation. He died suddenly of a fever, and suspicion was even cast 
 upon his father, so extravagant was the national sorrow. This may perhaps have 
 been augmented, if not originated, by the well-known fact that the fang and his 
 son had not been always on the best of terms. Lingard says : " There existed 
 but little affection between him and his father. James looked on him with feelings 
 of jealousy, and even of awe; and the young prince, faithful to the lessons which 
 he had formerly received from his mother, openly ridiculed the foibles of his 
 father, and boasted of the conduct which he would pursue when he should succeed 
 to the throne." — Lingard, ed. 1854, vol. vi. p. 64. 
 
 * This letter was added above by the copyist, who observed that the line wanted 
 another syllable. 
 
Tlte Promoters. 139 
 
 What tendar Mother did not wish y* darte 
 
 Had glanced from him, and strooke her Darlings harte? 
 All y' weere vertuose, all y* weere good, 
 
 Turned theire weepings (sic) eyes to streamea of blood. 56 
 But thine anoyted (sic) needes must leaue y^ Citty 
 
 Before it bee distroyed, such is thy pitty, 
 And such thy pitty. Are theire yet full ten ? 
 
 Is theire (greate God) a number les of men 60 
 
 Whose innocence may slack thy kindled ire, 
 
 And keepe this Sodom Britaiue from y® fire 
 Of thy -just anger ? Is there yet a soule 
 
 Whose vertue power hath but to controle 64 
 
 Thine heau'd vp hande of iustice ? If there bee, 
 
 For his or her sake rouse thy clemency. 
 Awake thy mercy, let thy iustice slumberr. 
 
 And saue y* greater for y® lesser numberr. 68 
 
 For his or her sake, we do humbly pray 
 
 Respitt of time : giue ts a longer day ; 
 And then, inabled by thy grace and Fauor, 
 
 Wee'le purchesse Pardon by our good behauior. 72 
 
 Plague,^ famine, darkenesse. Inundations, 
 
 We haue indured ; feare of innouations, 
 W"" expectation of y® worst can follow. 
 
 Daily torments vs : and wee howerly swallow 76 
 
 Our very spittell eauen w'" feare and horror ; 
 
 We nightly sleepe w"^ care, awake w'** terror. 
 Nor are wee all this time from vermine free — 
 
 The Catterpiller hanges on euery tree : 80 
 
 Lousy Promoters,^ Monopoly- Hungers * 
 
 A crew of vpstarte rascalls, whose firse hungers 
 
 ' In 1604 tlie plague raged in England : in that same year (tlie first Parlia- 
 ment of James) an Act was passed that no one should leave nis house, while 
 suffering from the plague, under the penalty of death ; provision was also made 
 for a rate for the support of the infected. 
 
 * Informers. Cf. an epigram by Sir John Harrington against " Promoters," 
 beginning — 
 
 " Base spyes, disturbers of the publique rest, 
 With forged wrongs the trew mans ryght that wrest." 
 (From a MS. copy of the epigrams in my possession in the handwriting of Sir John.) 
 
 ' The question of monopolies, which had become a standing abuse in the reign 
 of Elizabeth, was very keenly debated in the reign of James I., who had freely 
 betaken himself to this method of recompensing his needy courtiers. In 1621 
 Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Mitchell, — the former of whom sat for the 
 portrait of Massinger's Sir Giles Onerreach, — having been detected in very gross 
 
140 Our Sufferings worse tlian Job's. 
 
 Can ne're bee satisfied : a sorte of slaues, 
 
 Far more insatiate then are whores, or graues : 84 
 
 A sorte of vpstarte Parasites y' rise, 
 
 And do more mischeif then Egiptian flyes. 
 Haue wee no froggs ? o yes, in euery ditch, 
 
 Deuouring y^ poore, impouerishing y° ritch, 88 
 
 Busy Intelligencers, base Informers, 
 
 Like Toades and froggs, by croking in all corners. 
 Promoting rascalls, whose inuenom'd toungs 
 
 Have donne thy suppliants infinite of wronges. 92 
 
 Where they desire to enter, there's no defence,^ 
 
 No ancient title, no Inheritance, 
 Can keepe them oute : they search and strech y" Law, 
 
 Keepe Magistrates and officers in awe : 96 
 
 They pluck y^ Ballance from faire lustice fist, 
 
 And make her Ministers do what they list. 
 There is no equity, no Law, nor Right ; 
 
 All causes go by fauor or by might. 100 
 
 O God of Mercy, what more can bee saide ? 
 
 lustice is- bought and soldo, becom a Trade : 
 Honor's confer'd on base vnworthy groomes. 
 
 And Clownes, for gaine, may perch in highest Roomes. 104 
 Jobb had full many scabbs, yet none so bad 
 
 As wee these one and twenty yeares haue had. 
 Egipte had botches, many scares y' smarted, 
 
 But yet they lasted not, they soone departed. 108 
 
 Halfe fowerty yeares in this sad wildernesse 
 
 Wee now have trauael'd ; is there no redresse ? , 
 Bowman, and lolex, Ringwood and his Mate,^ 
 
 Compar'd w* vs, are in a better state : 112 
 
 abuses of this privilege, were degraded from knighthood and fined. The matter 
 was temporarily set at rest by 21 Jac. I., which declared all monopolies to be 
 contrary to law, and all such grants to be void. Charles I., however, in his 
 straits, produced by the constant antagonism of the Parliament, attempted to 
 renew them, and, as Clarendon says ; " Ubsolete laws were revived and vigorously 
 executed, wherein the subjects might be taught how unthrifty a thing it was, by 
 too strict detaining of what was his, to put the King as strictly to inquire what 
 was his own." An ingenious but unsatisfactory defence. 
 
 ' The great height to which this scandalous custom of granting patents had 
 reached is well shown in the third volume of Lodge's " Illustrations of Enelish 
 History." ^ 
 
 " Who these individuals were I am unable to ascertain after a careful search 
 in the Calendar of State Papers for the reign of James I., including other 
 probable sources of information. 
 
The upstart Parasites. 141 
 
 They can be hearde, they can bee rewarded, 
 
 When wee are curst, sleighted, and vnregarded. 
 Is there a People (o Heauen) fallen a degree 
 
 Below y® Condition of a dogg but wee ? 116 
 
 Was there a nation in the Vniuerse 
 
 More daring once, more bold, more stoute, more feirce ? 
 And is there now vpon y® worldes broad face 
 
 Any y* can be reconed halfe so base ? 120 
 
 Is there a people so much scornd, despis'd. 
 
 So laught at, baffled, and so vassaliz'd ? 
 Where's auncient nobiKty becomme ? 
 
 Alas ! they are suppress' d, and in theire roome, 124 
 
 Like proud insulting Luciferrs, there sitts 
 
 A sorte of vpstarte fawning Parasitts. 
 Where's y® Gentry ? ^ 
 
 1 The piece terminates thus somewhat abruptly. On the next page of the 
 MS. is an amatory poem, beginning — " Diana cecill, that rare beauty thou doest 
 shew." 
 
142 
 
 THE CANDLEWICK LETTERS, 
 letter from 3lof)n Dotonynge to W frienD IBlmn: 
 
 Tpis is an epistle from a certain John Downj'nge, of Rye, in 
 Sussex, to his friend, who has left the neighbourhood suddenly : 
 it begins in verse, but ends in prose. Candlewick Street, A.S. 
 wic; of. Alnwick, Smethwick, Norwich, etc.: so called from 
 the Candlemakers, who originally inhabited it; it was in the 
 ward of Thomas de Basinge. See Memorials of London, by 
 Eiley, p. 3. To them succeeded woollen-cloth weavers from 
 Flanders, who were settled in this street by Edward III. 
 "There were then," says Stow, "in this city weavers of divers 
 sorts, to wit, of Drapery, Tapery, and Napery." Cf. also 
 Lydgate, in the Ballad of " The London Lyckpenny " — 
 
 Then went I forth by London Stone, 
 Throughout all Canwick Street : 
 
 Drapers much cloth me offered anon ; 
 Then comes me one cried ' hot sheep's feet ; ' 
 
 One cried mackerel, rushes green, another gan greet, 
 One bad me buy a hood to cover my head ; 
 
 But, for want of money, I might not be sped. 
 
 John Bland was an old name in the City; a John Bland was 
 Mayor in 1303 (Stow's Survey, ed. Strype, book i. p. 60), but 
 perhaps the name is more correctly given as John Blount, or 
 John le Blund. 
 
 [Tanner MS. 306, fol. 181.] 
 
 To wryte you comendations, : or send you salutations, 
 
 seyng your yll fashyons, : yt were but in vayne. 
 
 I leave yt therefore, : & kepe yt in store, 
 
 where manors are more, : I tell ye in playne ; 
 
 for what maye I ludge : of suche a suvege* 
 
 awaye so to truege : weth out takyng his leave? 
 
 I tooke ye, my frend, : as ye do pretends ; 
 
 but nowe, in the ende, : ye do me dysceave. 
 
 ye cam) in the evenyng, : & found me a wryting, 
 
 about letters sendyng : consernyng my charge, 
 
 in goynge your waye, : then dyd ye not saye 
 
 that the next daye : we shuUd taulke at large ? 
 
 in the mornyng I went : for the same intent, 
 
 ■ On the back of the letter is the following superscription : " To his frend 
 Mr. Bland, draper, in Candlewicke Strete, be this delivered. London, to bis 
 owne hands." The handwriting and orthography of these four pieces present 
 great difficulties, which are increased by the torn and BoUed condition of the 
 paper. In many instances conjecture has been of necessity employed. 
 
 ^ tic. ? savage. 
 
Commendations to the Crete. 143 
 
 w/th hart well bent, 
 but you were gouJ, 
 to formans ' anonl ; 
 With out all honestye, 
 as Toyde of Scyvyllytye, 
 in ■which, your sayde part 
 as sayde my consart, 
 for she thought verylye 
 at dynner, I assure ye, 
 but nothyng mystrustyng 
 wj'th out further metynge, 
 
 to the place where ye laye ; 
 
 & I ther vponj 
 
 but you hastyd^ awaye 
 
 or part of humanyte, 
 
 Lyke one out of kynde. 
 
 there wantyd good hart, 
 
 who ys of my mynde ; 
 
 we shuUd have lawghfft merylye 
 
 & so had preparyd ; 
 
 your suddyng departyng 
 
 she was cleane desevyd. 
 
 forcyd for want of tyme to a brevyate my meter, I conclude 
 the rest in prowes : surelye & off my faythe I & my wyfe 
 bothe were offendyd at your sudden! departure; patyens' 
 [and] I ment to have taulkyd w«th you consernyng thynga 
 for your comodyte : & a part towchyng my frend ml 
 carmardenJ : to home ommytt not my hartye coraendations, 
 w»th thaynks for my great chere; when oportunytye shall 
 serve, I shalbe redye to requy tt parrt. to mj parker my frend ; 
 to mj grev^s, your frend and my adoptyde Sonn, & heyre off 
 the halff aker beyonde S. georgs,* Do my comendatwws : the 
 Lyke omytt not to good mJ champyon : & leave not out the 
 rest of the Crewe : god blesse you all, & send my sonne 
 greves quyetnes w«th an vnytye & perfitt amyttj^e bytwenJ 
 hymJ & nS edward parker ! 
 
 & thus restyng yowrs : requyrynge you myne the lyke 
 ■vnfaynyd as perfitt frends, & lovyng bretherin of one 
 howsse & consanguynytye : leave not in oblyvyon my 
 hartye salutations to mJ Io° smythe. 
 
 & yff ye wyll, saye the lyke to mystrys coldwell. fare ye 
 well & god send vs peace. Amen. 
 
 from Rye, the 18 of everell, 1561, yowrs In" downynge, in 
 hast, I assure you, as aperythe. 
 
 ' Perhaps related to Sir Wm. Forman who was Lord Mayor in 1538 (Gough 
 MS. List of Lord Mayors and Sheriffs). 
 
 ' So corrected by the writer from were ryd. 
 
 ' Patience ; no doubt the name of his wife. 
 
 * Perhaps St. George's, Southwark. Of. Stow, book iv. p. 27 (ed. 17?lO^ 
 " In this l^ane (Paris Garden) is Groves Court, consisting of small houses." It 
 will be observed that the names of most of these citizens recur in the letters : 
 they were, no doubt, good, substantial, and "proper" men of their time, but it 
 would be idle, in the majority of instances, to disturb their ashes. 
 
 M 2 
 
144 
 
 letters from tU Deioenter Creto ' to t&e 
 CanDIetDicfe Creto. 
 
 Two letters in verse from Paul Peresonne and Arthur Mawd, 
 Wardens of the Deventer Crew, to the Crew in Candlewick 
 Street, and the answer. The history of these singular com- 
 positions appears to be, that in April, 1561, -some wild young 
 English merchants settled at Antwerp played a practical joke 
 on some grave London citizens by addressing them in a set of 
 rhymes, as if they were roystering free-livers like themselves. 
 The first letter remained unanswered, and then probably, deter- 
 mined to elicit a reply of some kind, the writers despatched a 
 second letter, merely an altered version of the other, with the 
 addition of a prose preamble, which produced a strong poetical 
 remonstrance from the worthy seniors, who are greatly scandalized 
 at the imputations cast upon them. These pieces, and the answer 
 of the Candlewick Crew, are undoubtedly original. The paper 
 is worn and soiled, and so damaged at the edges that the words 
 bracketed had to be supplied. The hand is a coarse secretary 
 one, with numerous flourishes and contractions. The two letters 
 from the " Deventer Crewe " were written by different persons. 
 The handwriting and orthography are those of the London 
 citizen of the time, precisely as we find in the Diary of Henry 
 Maohyn. 
 
 These pieces of quaint doggerel have no value except as giving 
 us an insight into the manners of the time, and showing us 
 the hearty geniality and too-often coarse horse-play of our 
 ancestors. The City guilds were in a very flourishing condition 
 in the time of Elizabeth : we were fast making our country the 
 great. shop of Europe: the nickname of "la nation boutiquiere," 
 which the baffled rivalry of a neighbouring nation has fixed upon 
 us, was becoming more than ever appropriate. This is not the 
 place, however, to attempt anything like a sketch of the history 
 of the Great English Companies. 
 
 1 Deventer on the Yssel, formerly the capital of Overyssel : a strong place, 
 with extensive trade. Thomas k Kempis died there. It was besieged and taken 
 by Maurice of Nassau, 1691. 
 
The virtues of John Bland. 145 
 
 [Tanner MS. 306, fol. 178.] 
 
 Lawes Deo Semper ! Le .3. iour De Aprell, 1561. Stillo 
 [Romano].^ 
 
 Hauynge opportunytye of tyme to cawfte to memorye your 
 Jentett Commendacyons Lattelye by vs E.eceyvyd, for the 
 w^fch as yett we E.este your Dettares, ettc. The Oawes 
 where off was onftye for Lacke of A trustye frynde for 
 Dellyuerye ther-off : w^ich Eesonnable Exskew^ess we Dowte 
 not Butt you witt Exsepte, and owr Loue, ettc. 
 
 So Lycke as your Commendacyons, by ts in aft poynts hathe 
 
 byn vzid. 
 So hoppe we in Lycke Case of your pleswre, owres shaft not 
 
 be Eefusyd, 
 whiche thynge nowe beynge Donne, att ower Reqwestess, 
 yow bynd vs at att tymes, here-aftar, to ffullfytt yower be 
 
 testes. 4 
 
 And fyrste we wyll Be gyn, with owr moste welbe Lovyd, 
 and trend Eedye at att Dayes, as we haue well provyd ; 
 his name for to Re herse, as yow shatt vnder stand, 
 A propper man of parson, whoos name ys John Bland. 8 
 
 A man for his Acktes moste prompts, and att wayes Redye 
 To breeke his faste at the Snylle, where he hawthe byn full 
 
 merrye, 
 of att men to A begger, I dowe Compare hym Beste, 
 for when his skryppe ys full, he will laye his townge to 
 
 Reste. 12 
 
 And thus owr menynge is, to tacke att owr frendes in order, 
 for with yow nychoUas Spencer, we witt prosede further. 
 Vnto yow nowe owr hartye Comendacyons we will Dereokte, 
 Trustynge you will them of yowr pleswre wett Exsepte. 16 
 
 ' Thus addressed on the 'baclc of the letter : " To ower Lovynge frendes the 
 Crewe of Candellwioke Strette, this our Lettar be delivered. London. To Eyther 
 of ther handes." 
 
146 Bucklersbury. 
 
 And further owr Comendacyons we mowste in no wyse for gett, 
 
 of yow to be Donne, to mysteres weft mett,^ 
 
 Dwellynge at the hande in hande with in Saynte Clements 
 
 Lanne,* 
 aft Evenyngs of yow to be Done, or ells yow are mowche to 
 
 blame. 20 
 
 "We Reqwyer you Dowe owr Commendacyons, to Robarte in 
 
 the hand in hand,^ 
 A man of marvellus oneste quaftyttes, By Re porte off lohn 
 
 Bland, 
 yf thes owr Commendacyons showld you in anye poynte 
 
 offennd. 
 At yower Awnswer here off, we will them amend. 24 
 
 And thus myndynge to haue aft owr frendes in Remembrances, 
 with yow Ry chard Champyon* we procede owr Enterances, 
 who is on of the Crewe that oftentymes Dowthe macke merrye, 
 with fygges, Reysons and allmondes, Bowghte in Buclares 
 Berrye.^ 28 
 
 ' Query, "masters, well met." 
 
 * " On the north side of this ward, at the west end of Eastcheap, have ye St. 
 Clements Lane, a part whereof, on both sides, is of Candlewick Street Ward." 
 — Stow, book ii. p. 183. 
 
 ' Probably the name of a drawer, with whom the young idlers of the day 
 affected familiarity. " Sirrah," says Shakespere's Prince Henry, " I am sworn 
 brother to a leash of drawers, and can call them all by their Christian names." 
 
 "Your first compliment shall be to grow most inwardly acquainted with the 
 drawers, to learn their names, as Jack, and "Will, and Tom." — Decker's Gull's 
 Horn-Book, 1610. 
 
 * "Master Champion, draper," who, in August, 1568, "was chosen Shreyff 
 of London by the comens of the cete " (H. Machyn's Diary, p. 170). The 
 Sheriff was son of Richard Champion, of Godalming, Survey. He was after- 
 wards knighted. Lord Mayor of Loudon 1566, died 1568. His epitaph is in 
 Stow, beginning — 
 
 " The Corps of Richard Champion, Knight, 
 Maior and Draper, here doth rest." 
 Sir R. Champion died without issue. His wife was Barbara, widow of Alderman 
 Heardson. In Machyn's account of the christening of Thomas White (Feb. 3rd, 
 1660-1) she figures as "Masteres Champyon, (tlie) altherman(s) wyff, god- 
 mother." She erected a monument in St. Dunstan's-in-the-East, with kneeling 
 effigies of herself and her two husbands. 
 
 _ The name was a good one in the city, and well reputed, if we judge by its 
 civic honours : the following occur among the number : 
 1629, 21 Hen. 8. Wm. Champion, Sheriff. 
 1530, 22 Hen. 8. Richard Champion, Draper, Sheriff. 
 1668, 6 Mary. Richard Champion, Draper, Sheriff. 
 1566, 7 Elizabeth. Sir Richard Champion, Draper, Lord Mayor. 
 » " Bucklersbury falls into Walbrook, almost against St. Stephen's Walbrook 
 
The Boar's Head. 147 
 
 Wythe plentye of wyne, ffyttyd at the Bores hedd/ 
 
 W2th wfiiche yow macke the goodman often tymes to go 
 
 druncke to Bedd ; 
 and then, I dowte nott, But wzth the wyffe you maye Dowe 
 
 yowr plesure, — 
 Everye man in his course, at his owne Laysare. 32 
 
 Church. After that (in the reign of Henry VI.), the pepperers or grocers had 
 seated themselves in a more open street, to wit, in Bucklesbury, where they yet 
 remain" (Stow). Bucklersbury took its name from the owner of "one antient 
 strong Tower of stone," given by Edward III. to St. Stephen's, Westminster. 
 In course of time it became the property of one Buckle, who set about taking 
 it down, to build into a house. But the said Buckle, greedily labouring to pull 
 down the old Tower, a piece thereof fell upon him, which so bruised him that 
 his life was thereby shortened. " This whole street called Bucklesbury, on both 
 the sides throughout, is possessed by Grocers and Apothecaries toward the west 
 end thereof." — Stow, ed. 1720, book iii. p. 27. See also Memorials of London, 
 p. 25. 
 
 The apothecaries of those days were herbalists. Shakespere has alluded to this, 
 when he makes Falstaff speak of the young gallants " as a many of these lisping 
 hawthorn buds, that come like women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklers- 
 bury in simple time." There must also have been a celebrated tobacconist's shop 
 there in the time of Ben Jonson, for he seems to allude to the sign ; " I thought 
 he would have run mad o' the black boy in Bucklersbury, that takes the scurvy 
 roguy tobacco there" (Bart. Fair, act i. scene 1). 
 
 1 The first mention of this celebrated tavern occurs in the testament of William 
 Warden, temp. Richard 11., who gave "all that tenement called the Boar's Head 
 in Eastcheap " to a college of priests, or chaplains, founded by Sir W. Walworth, 
 the Lord Mayor, in the adjoining church of St. Michael, Crooked Lane. The 
 presence of " J'rince Hal" in this house was no invention of Shakespere: 
 history records his pranks, how one night, with his two brothers John and 
 Thomas, he made such a riot that they had to be taken bef ire the magistrate. 
 No wonder then at the proud inscription on the sign, which still existed in 
 Maitland's time: "This is the chief tavern in London." At one time the 
 portal was decorated with carved oak figures of Falstaff and Prince Henry; 
 and in 1834 the former was in the possession of a brazier of Eastcheap, whose 
 ancestors had lived in the shop he then occupied since the Great Fire. On the 
 removal of a mound of rubbish at Whitechapel, brought there after the Great 
 Fire, a carved boxwood bas-relief boar's head was found, set in a circular frame 
 formed by two boar's tusks, mounted and united with silver. An inscription to 
 the following effect was pricked at the back: "Wm. Brooke, Landlord of the 
 Bore's Hedde, Estchepe, 1366." 
 
 " The original inn having been destroyed by the Fire, was rebuilt, and continued 
 in e.xistence until 1831, when it was finally demolished, to make way for the 
 streets leading to new London Bridge. Its site was between Small Alley and 
 St. Michael's I,ane. 'J'he ancient sign, carved in stone, with the initials J. T. 
 and the date 1668, is now preserved in the City of London Library, Guildhall." 
 — Ilotten's History of Signboards, p. 379. See also a, notice in Ca,talogue of 
 Works of Art exhibited at Ironmongers' Hall, vol. ii. pp. 465-66. The site is 
 now occupied by the monument to William IV. 
 
 Hotten mentions two other Boar's Head inns— one in Southwark, another 
 without Aldgate. Of the Snylle (snail) mentioned in the first letter, and the 
 Snype in the second, no mention can be found. They were perhaps both the. 
 invention of the writers. 
 
148 ^ mimcal party. 
 
 Ower welbe Lovyd hamares^ Clyffe in no wise mowste Be for 
 
 gotten ; 
 yf his parson were absente, the Crewe wold Downne the 
 
 Brocken,^ 
 who with his Lewte Dowthe make the hofte Crewe merry, 
 with ( ) Small yes,^ Syngynge, mrs weft mett, shaft 
 
 I Eowe in yowr wherrye ? 36 
 
 And then Lowcke you cawft Robarte to fyll a pott off alle, 
 whitte yow, hamers Olyffe, are skowrynge off her Taylle ; 
 and then, Robarts Braynes Beyng troubled in that same Tyme, 
 Dowthe brynge you for atte a pott of Frenche wynne. 40 
 
 And thus, hamers Clyffe, with you we witt macke an Ende, 
 prayenge god off his grace untcw vs a merye metynge to send. 
 yff tyme wold par-mytt, we wold wrytte you more at Large, 
 and] thus we praye god, Kepe yow owt off wellses Barge.* 44 
 
 John Graves, we here Saye, ys on off your Crewe, 
 
 "mkich newes vnto vs Dyd Seme verrye newe ; 
 
 And] knowynge that he the good fettowe Can playe, 
 
 owr mynde ys to haue hym in for on by the waye. 48 
 
 In playenge on the Yergenafts he ys weft skyttyd. 
 
 And on his fyddeft manye tymes weft wittid, 
 
 attso on the gyttarne he playes verye well ; 
 
 yett hammers Cliffe on the Lewte Dowthe him far Exsett.* 52 
 
 When aft thes Instruments are Com to gether, 
 no mar-veft thoughe yow haue there-in grette plesure ; 
 the meftodye there-of By Reson showld] be so whette,* 
 That John blandes howes should] be in Dawnger to be 
 Dawnsid Down with yowr ffette. 56 
 
 ^ sic in this and the following Terses. ? Thomas. See Letter immediately 
 succeeding. 
 
 '^ Perhaps this phrase may have arisen from Broken Wharf, " a water gate or 
 key, so called, of being broken and fallen down into the Thames." 
 
 ' There is a gap here in the original, and it is very difficult to make any sense. 
 
 * A cant name- for the Fleet Prison. The Fleet was anciently the Eiver of 
 the "Wells, or such a term might well date from the time of King John, who 
 "by his patent, dated the third of his reign, gave to the Archdeacon of Wells 
 the custody of the said King's House at Westminster, and his Gaol of the Fleet." 
 Stow, book iii. p. 256. 
 
 '' These stanzas fill the leaf, the date is again superscribed on the v° side as 
 follows : Laudo A Dio .3. Aprell, 1661. Stillo Romano. 
 
 " O.E, wethe, sweet. A.S. we'Se. 
 
The Second Letter. 149 
 
 Yett on ther ys of yore Crewe yrhich. to vs ys vn-knowne, 
 The fame off his Dawnsynge to andwarpe is blowne ; 
 Syde ys hiss name, as we witt yow teH, 
 a-mownge aft the Crewe for Dawnsynge he beres the beft. 60 
 
 To aft the Reste of the Crewe wAzch we haue not namyd, 
 we aske pardon of yow, and not to be Blamyd ; 
 for this owr worcke to yow aft we haue Deryctid, 
 prayenge yow aft at yowr ferste metynge yt maye be En- 
 actyd. 64 
 
 And forther that when So Ever this owr worcke shalbe Eedd, 
 That on off jouv Crewe for ower Suckses maye go droncke 
 
 to bedd; 
 whiche Requeste off you fuftfyftid, we Reste yowr Dettar, 
 hoppynge owr nexte Comendacyons shaft plese yow bettar. 68 
 
 And now thes owr Comendacyons for this tyme beynge Donne, 
 from vs yowr owld frendes, arthur maude and pawfte peresonn, 
 and attso not for-gotten, off an other frend as yett vn-knowne, 
 Rycharde Carmarden,i who hathe hym comendid to yow 
 Everye on. 72 
 
 The Tyme passythe A-waye, we moste nedes macke an Ende, 
 
 prayenge to the Lyvynge god yow aft to AraendJ, 
 
 And aftso To Send vs att-wayes off his grace. 
 
 And in the hevens Terestyatt A Dwettynge place. 76 
 
 yower Lovynge frendes, 
 paufte peresonne, 
 arthur mawd. 
 
 Ct)0 ^econD letter of tbe Deuentet Creiu. 
 
 This letter is bound up so as to precede Ko. 1, of which it is 
 in the main a repetition, with occasional variations. It is written 
 by Arthur Mawd in a much coarser hand than the first, which is 
 in Pereson's handwriting. Each of the young men affixed his 
 own signature, both to the letter of April 3rd and that of the 25th. 
 
 ' Probably the son of "my frend Mr. Carraarden," in John Downynge's letter. 
 
150 The merry Crew at Barrow. 
 
 [Tanner MS. 306, fol. 177.] 
 
 Jhesus.i At Barrowe^ the 25 of Apreft. 
 
 Moste Trustye and welbe Louyd Frende^, with [Loue^ 
 Vnfaynnyd we Commend vss vnto you, wyshynge [all 
 
 ' A very common way of commencing a letter at the time. Thus the cele- 
 brated letter of Mrs. AUeyn to her husband, preserved in Dulwich College, in 
 which Mr. Collier so strangely found the allusion to Shakespere. " Jhesus. My 
 intyre and welbeloved sweet harte, still it joyes me," etc. 
 
 * Most pvobably Bergen-op-Zoom. Compare Eng. Barrow, A.S. beorh, same 
 as the German bet-g. Ur perhaps, according to an ingenious suggestion, it may 
 be Berchem, a small place formerly at a short distance from Antwerp, but now 
 forming a suburb of the city. Barrow is mentioned by Boorde (See Mr. FurnivaU's 
 edition, p. 150), where the Brabander says: 
 
 " I was borne in Braban, that is both gentil and free; 
 
 All nacyons at all tymes be well-come to mee. 
 
 I do vse martes, dyuers tymes in the yere ; 
 
 And of all thynges, I do loue good Englysh here. 
 
 In Anwarpe and in Barow 1 do muke my martes ; 
 
 There doth Englysh marchauntes cut out theyr partes." 
 Mr. rumivall suggests Breda: with which opinion I am unable to agree, as 
 I cannot see how that name can have been corrupted into Barrow. He 
 quotes Hall's Chronicle : " In this yere (a.d. 1631) was an olde ToUe de- 
 maunded in Flaunders of Englyshmen, called the Telle of the Hounde, which 
 is a Ryuer and a passage : The ToUe is .xii. pence of a Fardell. This Tolle had 
 been often tymes demaunded, but neuer payed ; insomuche that Kyng Henry the 
 seuenth, for the demaunde of that Tolle, prohibited all his subiectes to kepe any 
 Marte at Antwerpe or Barow, but caused the Martes to be kepte at Calyes. " 
 — p. 786, ed. 1809. " If this warre [with the Emperor in 1527] was displeasaunt 
 to many in Englande (as you have hard), surely it was as much or more dis- 
 pleasant to the tounes and people of Flaunders, Brabant, Holhinde, and Zelande, 
 and in especiall to the tounes Andwarpe and Barrow, where the Martes wer kept, 
 and where the resorte by Englishmen was."- — li. p. 746. Perhaps these young 
 men were factors in the Low-Countries for some great London house or houses. 
 Their mode of living and boldness of speech have a parallel in Master Hobson's 
 story of his factor in France, "A merry conceited youth," "Pleasant Conceits of 
 Old Hobson," p. 14 (Halliwell). Their morals were probably not improved by 
 their sojourn among the Flemings, who were noted for their deep potations. 
 Thus Sir Thomas Gresham complains in the Privy Council that his health is 
 Buffering from the heavy carousals he is obliged to partake of with the Flemish 
 merchants, " for all their cheer is in drink." Compare also Nash's " Pierce 
 Penniless's Supplication to the Devil " (ed. by Payne Collier for the (Old) 
 Shakspere Society, 1842, p. 62) : " From gluttcnie in meates, let me discend 
 to superfluitie in drink, a sinne that, euer since we have miit our selues with 
 the Low Countries, is counted honourable, but before we knew their lingring 
 warres, was held in the highest degree of hatred that might be. Then, if wee 
 had seene a man goe wallowing in the streetes, or line sleeping vnder the boord, 
 wee would have spet at him as a toade, and cald him foule, drunken swine, and 
 warned all our friends out of his company : now, he is no body that cannot 
 drinke super uagulum,' carouse the hunter's hoope, quaffe vpseg freze crosse, 
 
 ' " Di-inkinfT super nagulum, a devise of drinking new come out of Fraunce ; whicli is, 
 after a man hath turnde up the bottom of the cup, to drop it on hys nayle, and make a pearl 
 with that is left; which, if it slide, and lie cannot mak stand on, bv reason thcrs too much, 
 he muf-t drinke a^aine for his pennncp." 
 
The unanswered letter. 151 
 
 hettthes, wythe good Sowckeces in aft yower Dowengs. By 
 this ower frennd and Ghyllde brewer hawnsyd^ a[nd] 
 Sworen in to ower Compane and preve Leged. not Long 
 Synes we thoughte good to Cawell to memorye the owllde 
 and Accustoomabett frenshippe vzid and frequentid Amonge 
 vs towerdes you, not Longe Synes sent By hym to Adrese 
 the Same, who ys on of the Ryghte Stampe, and vallewyd 
 of vss. Conveninte in aH places for the Lycke valleue whoes 
 presenes vnto you hath Longe Synes from you byn absente, 
 yett I truste his percon in no poynte for gotton, and hauynge 
 pervzid ower owlld and ansyente Regester we fiynd that of 
 Longe Synes we haue vnto jouv Crewe Adressyd A Lettar, 
 ■w/«'ch as yett we never haue Recez'y^d awnsuer ; wherrefore 
 at this present hauynge not moche to trobell you with at 
 this tyme we Dowe menne to pute you in memorye ther of, 
 as tyme and place shall Sarve, ettc. 
 
 And fyrste we wilbe gyn wz'th ower moste welbe Louyd, 
 
 ower frend at atte Dayes, as we haue well [prouydj ; 
 
 his name to Reherse, as you shall vnders[tand], 
 
 A proper manne of pereon, whoes name ys Jhone [Bland]. 4 
 
 A man for his Acktes moste prompte and Ee[dy] 
 
 to brfecke his faste at the Snype, where he bathe byn f[ull 
 
 merrye] ; 
 of aft men to a Beger he ys comparid Be[st], 
 for when his Skryppe ys fule, he Layes hym Downe [to rest]. 8 
 
 ■with leapes, glones, mumpes, fi-olickes, and a thousand such dominering inuentions. 
 He is reputed a pesaunt and a boore that ■will not take his licour profoundly; 
 and you shall heare a caualier of the first feather, a princockes that ■was but 
 a page the other day in the court, and now is all to be frenchified in his souldiours 
 Bute, stand vpon termes with, ' God's wounds ! You dishonour me, sir, you doo 
 me the disgrace if you do not pledge me as much as I drunke to you;' and, 
 in the midst of his cups, stand vaunting his manhood, beginiiing euerie sentence 
 with ' M''hen I first bore armes,' ■when he neuer bare anie thing but his lord's 
 rapier after him in his life. If he haue been ouer and visited a towne of 
 garrison, as a trauailer or passenger, he hath as great experience as the greatest 
 commander and ohiefe leader in England. A mightie deformer of men's manners 
 and features is this vnnecessarie vice of all other. Let him bee indued with 
 neuer so manie vertues, and haue as much goodly proportion and fauour as 
 Nature can bestow vpim a man, yet if bee be thirstie after his owne destruction, 
 and hath no ioy nor comfort but when he is drowning his soule in a gallon pot, 
 that one beastly imperfection wil vtterly obscure all that is commendable in him, 
 and all his goode qualities sinke like lead downe to the bottome of his carowsing 
 cups, where they will lye, like lees and dregges, dead and vnregarded of any 
 man." ' hanselled. 
 
152 The Pranks of the Londoners. 
 
 and thus to tacke aft ower frendes in order, 
 
 with you Rychard Champyon we wift prosede further 
 
 as on of the Crewe that oftentymes makes merre 
 
 W2th mane Dyllycatts Boughte in Bouclares Berre. 12 
 
 wythe plentye of wynne fyllid at the Bores hedd, 
 
 where wzth yow macke the good man go droncke to Bedd, 
 
 and we feare nott But with the wyfe yow can Do we your 
 
 plesure ; 
 Evere man in his Corse, at his owen Layser. 16 
 
 and thus with yow, 'Rychard champyon, we will macke an end, 
 prayenge god of his grace a mere metynge to vs Sende. 
 ower welbe Louyd thomas Clyfe in nowyse moste be for gotten, 
 yf that his percon were absent, the Crewe wolld Su[re be 
 brocken]. 20 
 
 who wythe his Lewte Dowthe macke the Crewe [merry], 
 with [ ] Small yes, Syngynge, heye Derrye D[errye] ; 
 and then Lowcke you Cawlt Eobarte to fytt [a pot of ale], 
 whylle yow, thomas Clyfe, arre skowrynge his m"- taytt. 24 
 
 and then, thomas Braynes Beynge trebled in that tyme, 
 Dowthe Brynge you in Stedde off atte A potte of wynne : 
 yf tyme wolld per myt we wolld wrytte you more at Large, 
 and thus we praye god keepe you ought of wellses Barge. 28 
 
 Jno. Graves, we herre Saye, ys on of yower Crewe, 
 
 W/^ich newes vnto vs Dyd Seme verre newe, 
 
 and knowynge that he the good feUowe can [playe], 
 
 ower mynd hys to haue hym in for on by the [waye]. 32 
 
 In playenge on the Vergenalles he ys well skyllid, 
 
 and on his ffyddell mane tymes well willid, 
 
 allso on [the] gyttarne he playes verre well ; 
 
 yett thomas Clyfe on the Leute dothe him [far exsell]. 36 
 
 "When aft thes Instrumentes are Corn to gether, 
 no marveft though you haue therre in grette plesure ; 
 the mellodye there of By Rezon shoUd be So Swette, 
 that Jn° Blandes hows shall be in danger of dawnsynge down 
 with your fette. 40 
 
The Answer. 153 
 
 Yett on therre ys of yower Crewo w/^z'ch to vs ys unknowen, 
 the fame of his Dawnsynge to andwarp ys Blownne ; 
 Syde ys his name as we wiH you teH, 
 amonge you aH for dawnsynge he berres the BeH. 44 
 
 To aH the Eeste whiche we haue nott namyd, 
 we aske pardon of you, and not to be blamid ; 
 for this ower workes to you aH we haue dedycatid, 
 prayenge you at yower metynge yt maye be enactid. 48 
 
 and when So Ever yt shaH chanes this owr worke be redd, 
 that on of youv Crewe maye go droncke to bedd ; 
 wAzch Requeste of you fullfyllid, we Reste yower Dettar, 
 hopynge ower nexte Comendacyones shaH plese you better. 52 
 
 The tyme pasythe Awaye : we moste macke an end, 
 
 prayenge to the Lyvynge god you aHe to amend ; 
 
 and allwayes to Sennd vs of his grace, 
 
 and in the hevenes terestyall A dwellynge place. 56 
 
 yours, The vaaster wardens 
 of The Deventer Crew, 
 arthur mawd, 
 pawHe peresonn. 
 
 anstoer of tU Cantiletoicfe Creto. 
 
 We now give the answer of the worthy members of the Candle- 
 wick Crew, who are greatly indignant with the liberty which 
 has been taken with them, and rebuke their juvenile assailants 
 accordingly. There is something very quaint in these laboured 
 efforts of the Aldermanic muse : apparently they considered it 
 a matter of honour to retaliate in rhyme: poetical "flytings" 
 of this description ornament the literature of both the fifteenth 
 and sixteenth centuries. Cf. Dunbar with Kennedy, and Skelton 
 with Gamesche. The antiquary finds no little amusement in 
 these highly-spiced fragments of ancient virulence. 
 
154 A sharp rebuke. 
 
 [Tanner MS. 306, fol. 179.] 
 
 your letter large of lewde effecte we longe synns have re- 
 
 ceyvyd, 
 wherin your myschevous meanyng mynde in wry ting 18 
 
 percey vyd ; 
 your proper preface pend in prowesse, by way of commen- 
 dations, 
 shewyth a smorye^ symple style, in ower ymagynations. 4 
 an] introduction' to a trade, off rvde & Rechelesse rymyng, 
 a craftye cloke to culler crymes, which, after coms in wrytyng. 
 your fantzye forgeth fyrst to name, as orderlye we stand, 
 owr fayth full, freke,^ & frendlye mate, and lovyng brother 
 
 bland, 8 
 
 whome we both, love, & lyke also, and think hym moche 
 
 more better, 
 then dothe your rvde and rompente style : compares him to 
 
 a begger. 
 a shamelesse sort, a synfuU syghte : emonge ye trulye be, 
 that so wyll wryte to his dyspigt : & he no wursse then] we. 
 A modest mate & merye man] : a fythfuU ffrende at nede, 13 
 a hatelesse hart, a wyttye wyght : & trew in word & dede. 
 fro?ra bland, our best belovyd frend, to champyonl, then] ye 
 
 com : 
 althoughe good choyce of chore we vse, yet ye myght leave 
 
 owte soiii]. 16 
 
 but bucklers berye ye bryng in, & other suche lyke places, 
 & thervnto ye Joyne such gere, that I perceyve ye grasles. 
 I shame to shewe, & wyll not wryte, the rvdenes of your style, 
 but ye remaywe suche as ye were, and have bynJ of longe 
 
 whyle. 20 
 
 we would ye wete, & well dyd knowe, & kepe yf in yowr 
 
 mynde, 
 that champyon cheyfe emong vs ys, and one both trewe & 
 
 kynde: 
 an] honest hartye maii] he ys, of lyffe most pure vnspottyd, 
 whose fame & bruyte' & doynges [y]ett were never staynd ne 
 
 blottyd ; 24 
 
 1 ? Sorry. ^ Brave, firm. See instances quoted by Halliwell. 
 
 3 Eumour or report, a word of Keltic origin. 
 
A shameless sect of Satan. 155 
 
 but as in name he Champyon ys, the lyke, be sure, at nede, 
 ye shall hynu fynde in force & myght : & fyrme in word & 
 
 dede. 
 with Curtyous cly£Fe ye followe next, lest he shuUd be for- 
 
 gottonJ, 
 and yf he were not weH in lyfe, ye saye owr crew were 
 
 broken, 28 
 
 as thoughe the fredonJ of owr faythe dependyd but one clyfe. 
 no, wytles wryter, know thou weH, our state ys not so breyfe : 
 thoughe one or twooe or thre departe, the crewe ys not 
 
 dyssolvyd ; 31 
 
 therefore be sure, ye sawcye syr, your dowbt therein resolvyd. 
 hys life doth lyke, & eke delyght, & please owr fantzyes well ; 
 but to recite the Rest ye wryte, my eares doth glo to tell, 
 ohe, shamelesse secte of sathans sewte ! how dare ye so to 
 
 wryte ? 35 
 
 what cawsse doth clyffe compelle ye thus of hym so to indyte ? 
 alas ! good clyffe, o curtious mate ! ohe gentle harte & 
 
 mynde ! 
 was never none that yet coUd saye, o clyff, thou art ynkynde ! 
 our brother braynes ye also blame, who ys of good reporte. 
 now welses barge, I swere, ys mete to furnyshe suche a sorte. 
 procedyng forth, ye bryng in graves : marveyll moche we do 
 that he, in lyke as others are, ye do not slawnder so. 42 
 
 ye Saye ye mynde to make hj'm one emong vs to be placyd ; 
 naye, make somj meanes to place your selves : for whye ? ye 
 
 ar dysgracyd. 44 
 
 owr orders onlye dothe permytt, no brother in our crewe 
 By havyng made vs sore offense, shall longer then ensewe 
 emonge vs to be fre thenceforth, wyth out owr whole consent, 
 and that SomJ prowff ther maye be had that he doth sore 
 
 repent. 48 
 
 nowe whether that ye have all lost the fredom of owr crewe, 
 your letter late ye sent vs both doth large ynowff condempn 
 
 you. 
 Lesyd ^ the sort of other sins whereof ye be suspectyd, 
 as powU at barrowe by two wentches hath byn late infectyd, 
 and mawd at andwarp hath the lyk : small ioye we have to 
 
 wryt yt, 53 
 
 ' i.e. setting aside. (Cf. out-taken, except.) The word is not common in this 
 sense. 
 
156 We use mediocrity. 
 
 & Randle eke ys not to seke : ^ & hawes at brussells^ hath yt; 
 this trulye we do touche apart : in brefe your great abvse, 
 thoughe you at large in lyeng sort, vrith slawnders vs accvse. 
 wherefore yt is awardyd here, wzthout ye do submyt ye, 57 
 ye lese the tayle of that ye had, whereof we do dyscharg ye ; 
 yet at the great request of Bome, of your part vndeservyd, 
 ye maye with hvmblyng of your selves by gratis now re- 
 
 ceyvyd. 60 
 
 vpon som hope of happyer lyfe then hereto-fore was uzyd, 
 or ells be sure yt ys decreede ye shalbe cleane Refusyd. 
 ohe bayres bolld, howe dare ye wryte so lewdlye va vnto, 
 and then] at ende to wryte so rvde, ynmete for you to do ? 64 
 as thoughe we culld not Eede your byll wyth-out we went 
 
 to drynke; 
 and thoughe we had, yt yll becomes you so of vs to thynke, 
 that we, as wyse & Sober wyghtes, Owre selves shulld so 
 
 abvse 
 to drynke so muche tyll we be drwncke, as ye emonge ye vse ! 
 also we cannot merye be when we be so dysposyd, 69 
 
 but that our brother blande ys lyke to have hys howsse downe 
 
 dancyd. 
 no, no, ye selye sorye shaddes ' : we ar not of those sort, 
 a medyo-cryte we vse in all owr acte & sport. 72 
 
 well were yt wyth ye all, I saye, yf ye culld do the lyke ; 
 but youth herto cannot attayne : theyre wytts be far to syeke. 
 wherfore we wyll beseche the lorde to sende ye of hys grase, 
 that ye maye sett your wytts & mynde a whyle to Run] 
 
 owr Pace ; 76 
 
 That you by vs in Tyme be brought to some confyrmytye, 
 & by beholdynge of our steppes may lerne hvmanytye. 
 And thus we ende, & here conclude : we send ye comendations, 
 And hope to here that by thys byll ye wyll amend your 
 
 fashyons ; 80 
 
 so shall we all ryght JoyfuU be : & ye receyve to grase, 
 & yeld agayne the thyng ye lost, omytting your trespace. 
 
 By yours somtymes, when ye were cowntyd mete, 
 
 the Crewe & brotherhede of candellwycke strete. 84 
 
 • Perhaps a relation of Thomaa Eandall, merchant, to whom, on October 9th, 
 1S69, " was master Row Alderman(s) dowthur mared " (Machyn's Diary, p. 216), 
 
 2 Perhaps son to Master Hawes, clothworker, who was made sheriff on August 
 1st, 16fi8, with Richard Champion (Machyn, p. 170). ^ Mean fellows. 
 
157 
 
 POEMS RELATING TO CAMPION, 
 
 Of the following poems the earliest (I. pp. 164, 165) is that 
 entitled "A libel touching Campion," in three parts, of four, 
 three, and two verses respectively, in different measures. This, 
 of course, was not so called by the author, but by the transcriber 
 who sent a copy of it for the information of the Council, and 
 thereby caused its preservation among the State Papers. It 
 refers to Campion's disputations and rackings in the Tower, but 
 not to his death; its date is therefore in September or October, 
 1581. I cannot hazard a guess as to the author. 
 
 The next batch (II. pp. 166-179) is the collection of "certayne 
 verses made by sundrie persons," annexed to an 8vo. book, the 
 title of which will be found prefixed to the poems. They are 
 four in number; two on Campion's death; one, a dialogue be- 
 tween a Catholic and Consolation, and the fourth, the complaint 
 of a Catholic. They are all, especially the two first, very good 
 and smooth for their day, and were well received. They were 
 the productions of persons of some mark — "baud ignobilium 
 poetarum acute commenta," says Bombinus, in his life of 
 Campion. In stanza sixteen of the first poem we read : 
 
 " You bloody jury, Lea and the eleven, 
 Take heed your verdict, which was given in haste, 
 Do not exclude you from the joys of heaven." 
 
 Among the Puckering papers in the British Museum is a letter 
 from this Lee to the Lord Keeper, dated in 1595. He was then 
 for the second time " a prisoner restrained from bodity travel," 
 and complained of the conduct of the Catholics to him. "I 
 have been persecuted by them for my verdict, given in haste, as 
 Vallenger rhymed, against Campion and his - traiterous com- 
 panions." This seems to ascertain the authorship of the first 
 poem ; and it is confirmed by the notice in Bridgewater's Con- 
 certatio (fol. 225 and 408), which informs us how Vallenger had 
 his ears nailed to the pillory and cut off, for verses he wrote on 
 Campion's death.' Vallenger was a known ballad-writer of the 
 
 ' The records of Vallenger's trial in the Star Chamber are lost (the sentences 
 in criminal cases were all burnt at Clerkenwell in the Gordon riots in the last 
 century), otherwise we should find there one of the poems attributed to Walpole, 
 if More {Hist. Trov. Ang. lib. v. No. 33) is correct in saying thiit the law was 
 first put in action against him, .before he was known to be a Catholic, for a poem 
 he had written on Campion's liappy death. 
 
158 Campion Poems. — Vallenger. — Anthony Mimday. 
 
 day, and the smoothness of these vei-sos is surprising, after 
 Gabiiel Harvey's information that Spenser ironically called him 
 Noble Master Vallenger, on account of his supreme carelessness 
 of English quantity and accent. (Three proper and familiar 
 letters between Harvey and Spenser, 1581.) 
 
 With regard to the authorship of the other three poems, one 
 was written by Henry Walpole, the young heir of the great 
 family in Norfolk, who was converted to Catholicism on the 
 occasion of Campion's execution, became a Jesuit, and returned 
 to England to be captured and haftged in 1595.' Thomas Pounde 
 is, I think, the author of the short sketch of Munday, which 
 will be quoted below, and as he also was a -versifier, may have 
 written one of the poems to boot.^ Possible writers of the others 
 are Francis Tregean, Kobert Parsons, and even Philip Earl of 
 Arundel ; but this is a mere guess, founded on the fact that they 
 did all write religious verses. These poems were published in 
 1581 — that is some time between Dec. 1, 1581, and March 25, 
 1582. 
 
 The next batch of poems (III. pp. 180-190) consists of four 
 paraphrases or glosses upon the four previous ones ; thefee 
 are by Anthony Munday. This kind of serious travestie was 
 common in Queen Elizabeth's age; Father Southwell's Sinners 
 Complaint, founded on Dyer's Fancy, is well known., as is 
 also Fulke Greville's version of the same poem. Munday 
 had cause for being angry with the publication which he 
 glozed upon. Apart from his having been the chief witness 
 against Campion and his companions, and a spectator of their 
 execution, he had published an account of the matter, the 
 substance of which may be found in Holinshed's Chronicles. 
 It is in Hallam's judgment characterized by " a savageness and 
 bigotry which I am sure no scribe of the Inquisition could have 
 surpassed." He had also been attacked by Pounde in a short 
 
 ' John Gerard, in his autobiography (VT orris's Translation, p. xci), says of 
 "Walpole, " He used to be at Court before the death of Father Campion, in whose 
 honour he also wrote some beautiful verses in the English tongue, declaring that 
 he and many others had received the warmth of life from that blessed martyr's 
 blood, and had been animated by it to follow the more perfect counsels of Christ." 
 This description does not apply to any of the following poems with any accuracy. 
 Possibly the first may be his, and only attributed lo \ allenger by Lee in ignorance. 
 
 ^ Pounde was probably the author of a long poem, in two parts, in the Record 
 Office, JJom. Eliz. 1582, No. 68. The first part is a criticism on Fox's Martyr- 
 olngy ; tho second, a very carefully-executed summary of the troubles of Catholics 
 under the penal laws, A lung extract was printed in the Rambler for Sept, 1859, 
 p. 373. The whole poem deserves printing. 
 
Campion Poems. — Anthony Mundcuj. 159 
 
 biographical sketch prefixed to the four poems. "Kogging 
 Munday," he says, '• first was a stage player (no doubt a calling 
 of some credit), after an aprentise, which tyme he wel serued 
 with deceauing of his mastei- ; then wandring towardes Italy, by 
 his owne report became a coosener in his iourney, Comming to 
 Eome, in his short abode there, was charitably relieued, but neuer 
 admitted in the seminary, as he pleseth to lye in the title of his 
 booke ; and being wery of well-doing, returned home to his first 
 vomite againe. I omite to declare howe this schoUer now come 
 out of Italy did play extempore ; those gentlemen and others 
 whiche were present can best giue witnes of his dexterity, who 
 being wery of his folly, hissed him from his stage. Then, being 
 therby discouraged, he set forth a balet against playes ; but yet 
 (0 constant youth) he now beginnes againe to ruffle vpon the 
 stage. I omit among other places his behaniour in Barbican, 
 with his good mistres and mother, from whewce our superin- 
 tendent' might fetch him to his court, were it not for loue (I 
 wonlde save slaunder) to their gospel." 
 
 The steps which Munday took to refute some of these imputa- 
 tions may be seen in the biographical sketch prefixed to his Johi 
 a' Kent and John a' Cumber, published by the (old) Shakespeare 
 Society. To the notices of him there, I may add, that he con- 
 tinued for some years in the profitable calling of informing 
 against Catholics ; he attached himself to Topclifie, the priest- 
 catcher, by whom he was employed to guard and to take bonds 
 of recusants, and who wrote about him to Puckering (Sept. 20, 
 1592, Harleian MS. 6998, p. 31) as "a man that wants no wytt." 
 How he used his wit in his vocation is told lis by PHS 
 (Phellippes ?), one of Walsingham's agents, in a letter to the 
 Secretary of State (Kecord Office, Domestic Papers, 1590, No. 
 138 a). "He hath been in divers places where I have passed ; 
 whose dealing hath been very rigorous, and yet dond very small 
 good, but rather much hurt ; for in one place, under pretence to 
 seek for Agnus Deis and hallowed grains, he carried from a 
 widow £40, the which he took out of a chest. A few of these 
 matches will either raise a rebellion or cause your officers to be 
 murdered." He lived to a great age, was pageant poet to the 
 City, and appears also to have had some office in the law courts. 
 I find Anthony Munday, gent., employed in the transmission of 
 the documents relating to the foundation of Falmouth to the 
 Corporation of Penrhyn in the reign of James I. (Gilbert, 
 Historical Survey of Cornwall, 4to., 1820, vol. ii. p. 793.) 
 Munday's paraphrases are dated 1581. 
 
 ' i.e. the Bishop of London. 
 
 N 2 
 
160 Campion Poems. — John Lilliat. 
 
 Vallenger's poem, "Why do I use my paper, ink, and pen?" 
 (p. 166) and the next,' "What iron heart that would not melt 
 in grief?" (p. 173) are found in MS. with variations, the chief of 
 which are given in the notes, at the end of a copy of the 1581 
 edition of Watson's ' EKaTofi-rraOia, which was formerly in the 
 possession of Hearne the Antiquary, and came into the Bodleian 
 with the Eawlinson MSS. The transcriber has headed the former 
 poem a GOOB terse, upon a fiaUti matter, and after the 180th line, 
 and the word "finis," has added the following gloss : 
 
 1^ What is it y* those flattered of the Popes will shame to 
 speake, to winne and continue their favour ? 
 
 To the latter poem he has prefixed the title an otJ)er, of tjje same 
 errnur, and after the 54:th line, and word Finis, has added the gloss : 
 
 Is he you thus commend cald Campion ? 
 
 Is this your Sainct, whose prayers you so singe ? 
 
 Then Campion, the Popes thiefe Champion, 
 
 At Tiburne trust' : To heauven sent in a stringe. 
 Tor whose sweet soule I ringe this lowde alarum : 
 His mendacia sunt opes et aiinim. q'* IwX. 60 
 
 The signs at the end, q* Ico\k, mean "quoth John Lilliat." John 
 Lily, the author of Euphues, has a commendatory piece prefixed 
 to Watson's book, " John Lily to the Author his friend," which 
 is signed " Farewell, John Lilliat." The poems and songs of 
 this MS. may appear in a future publication, but the copy we 
 have of them shows that John Lilliat cannot have been the same 
 man as the famous author of Euphues. 
 
 The fourth specimen of these Campion ballads (IV. page 191) 
 consists of an original stanza, followed by a few stanzas in- 
 accurately quoted from Vallenger's poem. They seem to have 
 been put together by a person who signs himself in cypher or 
 anagram, as a ballad hortatory to persuade some one to suffer 
 death for his religion, after the example of Campion. The in- 
 dorsement seems to show that the person addressed was George 
 Jarves, Priest, hanged at London, April 11, 1608. 
 
 Among the many publications respecting Campion, either extant 
 or noticed in the Stationers' Eegisters (see Collier's Extracts, 
 
 ' trust = trussed. 
 
Life of Edmund Campion. 161 
 
 pp. 136, 149, 162, 176), tlie following is the only title which seems 
 to refer to a ballad : 
 
 " Mr. Campion, the seditious Jesuit, is welcome to London." 
 Licensed to Richard Jones, July 24, 1581. 
 
 Other ballads against the Pope were licensed July 19 and 20, 
 but no mention of Campion is made in their titles. 
 
 Edmund Campion, son of a citizen and bookseller of London, 
 was born there Jan. 25, 1540, educated at Christ's Hospital in 
 Newgate Street, selected to recite a congratulatory harangue to 
 Queen Mary when she passed St. Paul's on her solemn entry into 
 London Aug. 3, 1553, sent to Oxford by the Grocers' Company, 
 selected by Sir Thomas White in 1557 to be Fellow of his new 
 foundation of St. John's College. He made the English oration 
 at the funeral of Amy Kobsart in 1560; in Feb. 1564, was Orator 
 in the schools, and in the same year preached the funeral sermon 
 for Sir Thomas White, and took his M.A. degree. Displayed his 
 eloquence before Queen Elizabeth and Lord Robert Dudley on 
 their visit to Oxford 1566, after which Dudley, then created 
 Earl of Leicester, sent for him, and became his good patron, giving 
 him a private opportunity of exhibiting his talents before the 
 Queen at Woodstock. Campion at this time was the most hope- 
 ful scholar at Oxford. In 1568 he was Proctor. He had been 
 for some little time reading divinity, which led him to doubt 
 about the Anglican Church ; but he fell into the hands of Chenej', 
 the anti-Calvinistic Bishop of Gloucester, who calmed his scruples, 
 and ordained him deacon. But his scruples revived, and he left 
 Oxford in August, 1570. He went to Ireland, where he became 
 an adviser of Sir Henry Sidney for his scheme of a Dublin 
 University, a friend of Sir James Stanihurst, Speaker of the 
 Irish House of Commons, whose son Richard had been his pupil 
 at Oxford ; and of Sir Christopher and Lady Barnwell, of Turvey. 
 Here he definitively left the Protestant communion, and wrote 
 his "History of Ireland," which Eichard Stanihurst afterwards 
 made into the groundwork of the Irish part of Holinshed's 
 Chronicles. His nonconformity was observed in Ireland, pur- 
 suivants w^ere sent after him, and he had to escape to England. 
 Eetuming to London, he was present at the tragedy of Dr. 
 Storey in June, 1571, and then fled across the Channel to Douai, 
 where, in the English College, he received minor orders. After 
 spending a year there, he went to Rome, and for some time was 
 dependent on Cardinal Gesualdi ; but in June, 1573, he joined 
 
162 Life of Edmund Campion. 
 
 the Society of Jesus, and was sent to undergo liis noviciate first 
 in Prague, then at Briinn, in Moravia. Then he returned as 
 a professor to the College at Prague,- and became famous, not 
 only for his orations, but for his Latin tragedies, which were 
 played with the highest applause before the Emperor Maximilian 
 and other distinguished spectators. Here also he renewed an 
 old acquaintance with Sir Philip Sidney, who visited Prague in 
 1576. In 1579, at the urgent request of Dr. Allen, the founder 
 of the English College at Douai, the Jesuits determined to send 
 some of their number to England, and fixed upon Parsons and 
 Campion as the pioneers of the mission. Campion first returned 
 to Eome, and an account is extant of his journey homewards, 
 and of a controversy he had with Beza in his passage through 
 Geneva. Campion landed at Dover June 24, 1580. He pro- 
 ceeded to London, and immediately began to preach. The 
 enthusiasm qf the young converts was excited, and the Council 
 soon found that something more than ordinary was occurring. 
 The young Catholic gentlemen were swept up and confined in 
 sundry prisons, or committed for safe custody to different clergy- 
 men, aldermen, or other responsible persons. Campion, seeing 
 that he might any day be shut up in forced silence in prison, 
 had written a declaration of his motives and objects in coming 
 to London. This he committed to the custody of Thomas 
 Poimde, an enthusiastic young Catholic of Hampshire, and a 
 relation of the Earl of Southampton, who had played the part 
 of Mercury in a masque at Kenilworth, during the famous 
 revels there in 1575, and who still dabbled in poetry and other 
 literature. Pounde was so excited by this able document, that, 
 in spite of his pledges, he distributed copies in MSS. from his 
 prison. Some of the first of these were sent to his own neigh- 
 bourhood, and the earliest copies which reached the Council were 
 captured in Hampshire. The document had however become too 
 public to be suppressed, and the press teemed with replies to 
 Campion's "great brag and challenge " — for in the paper he had 
 challenged to single combat all the divines of England on public 
 controversial hustings. The effect was only a redoubled vigilance 
 on the part of those who had to stop all controversy on the 
 Catholic side, and Campion had to transfer his presence from 
 London to the Provinces. In Yorkshire and Lancashire he spent 
 his time in preaching, and in composing a little book, his "Decern 
 Eationes," ten reasons which seemed to him so incontrovertible, 
 that on the strength of them he had dared with confidence to 
 make the challenge. The little book was secretly printed at a 
 flying pffess set up for the occasion in Stonor Park, near Henley, 
 and distributed by hundreds at the commencement in Oxford, 
 
Life of Edmund Campion, 163 
 
 'June 27, 1581. Among the refined critics of tlie day this book 
 made a great sensation. It was cried up as the quintessence of 
 Latin scholarship; and the divines of Oxford and Cambridge 
 had to rebuke solemnly the frivolity of the young men who were 
 ready to sacrifice their religion to beauty of phrase ; just as in 
 1589 they had to lament over their enjoyment of the libellous 
 jokes of Martin Marprelate. 
 
 A fortnight after this triumph, Campion was taken at the house 
 of Mr. Yate, of Lydford, Berks, by means of one. George Eliot, 
 who had lived as a Catholic in the service of Sir William Petre, 
 and who for his exploit was rewarded by the Catholics with the 
 name of Judas Eliot, and by the Queen with the red coat of 
 a yeoman of the guard. Campion, with two other priests found 
 with him, was taken to London, and made to ride through the 
 City to the Tower, his elbows tied behind him, his hands in front, 
 and his heels under his horse's belly, with a paper in his hand, 
 like a perjurer, inscribed Campion the seditious Jesuit. This 
 was on Saturday, July 22, 1581. A week after, the Council 
 ordered Norton and others to examine him, and if necessary to 
 deal with him by the rack. The chief point to be discovered 
 was the names of the gentlemen at whose houses he had been 
 entertained. By the beginning of August information had been 
 obtained, the Council said from him, but more probably from 
 some of the others captured with him, of a great many of the 
 houses where he had stayed. The proprietors of all were 
 imprisoned, and many of them subsequently very heavily fined 
 by the Star Chamber. After he had been twice racked, he was 
 allowed to have some discussion in the Tower — not in public, but 
 before a select audience. Of course each side claimed the victory 
 for its own champion ; and the printed account of the con- 
 troversy issued by Deans Nowel and Day differs very much 
 from the MS. accounts circulated by Campion's friends. Campion, 
 however, made one illifstrious convert, Philip Earl of Arundel. 
 After three of these conferences, the Council determined to treat 
 the matter in another way, and to make an example of the priests 
 in prison. 
 
 At this time the Duke of Anjou was in England as Elizabeth's ac- 
 cepted suitor. The prospect of her marriage to a Catholic husband 
 filled half England with dismay. The politicians thought it would 
 be a good stroke to hang a batch of priests upon the occasion, 
 for this would prove that the marriage, if it was to come off, 
 would make no difference in the religious policy, or possibly, if 
 Anjou was a man of spirit, might drive him off in disgust. 
 Hence, after several futile attempts to get up a case, it was 
 determined to arraign eleven priests and two laymen for a con- 
 
164 Campion Poems. I. — His Disputations. 
 
 spiracy against the Queen's life, entered into at Home and Eheims. 
 The proof of the plot depended on the testimony of Sled, Munday, 
 and Caddy, three young men who had pretended to be Catholics, 
 or perhaps were so, and had thus gained admission to the foreign 
 Colleges. But their testimony amounted to very little. "The 
 prosecution," says Hallam, "was as unfairly conducted, and 
 supported by as slender evidence, as any, perhaps, that can be 
 found in our books." The trial took place on the 20th of 
 November, 1581. Chief Justice Wray presided. One Lee was 
 foreman of the jury. The prisoners were all found guilty. On 
 the 1st of December Campion, Sherwin, and Briant were dragged 
 on hurdles from the Tower to Tyburn, and there hanged, drawn, 
 and quartered. In the following poems reference will be found 
 to the circumstances of the day — how it began in clouds and 
 rain, and cleared up just as Campion was hanged ; and how there 
 was a most remarkable flood tide on the Thames. 
 
 For the life and times of Campion, see Edmund Campion, a Biography, by 
 Richard Simpson. 'Williams and Norgate, 1867. The above particulars are 
 extracted &om this hook. 
 
 I. 
 
 [From Domestic State Papers, Elizabeth, Vol. 150, No. 72 (Public Record Office).] 
 
 a JLitien touching Campion. 
 
 Campian is a Champion, 
 
 him once to oue;"cuOTme, 
 
 The rest be well drest, 
 
 the sooner to muwme. 4 
 
 he lokes for his liffe, 
 
 they saye to dispute ; 
 
 and doubtes not oitr doctrine, 
 
 he bragges to confute. 8 
 
 yf in steede of good argument 
 
 we deale by y° racke ; 
 
 the papistry maye thinke 
 
 that Icarwirgc wc lacke. 12 
 
Campion Poems. I. — His Disputations. 165 
 
 come forthe, my fine darlinges, 
 
 and make him a dolt ; 
 
 you haue him full fast, 
 
 & y* in stronge holte. 16 
 
 A Jesuite, a Jebusite, wherefore I you praj'e, 
 
 because he dothe teache you y" onely right waye ; 
 
 he proferethe y" same by learwinge to proue, 
 
 and shall we from lear«inge to racke him remoue. 20 
 
 his reasones were redie, his growndes were most sure, 
 
 the enemye cannot his force longe endure : 
 
 Campy on in campinge in spyrituall feild ; 
 
 in godes cause his liSe is reddy to yeld. 24 
 
 Our preacheres haue preached in pastime & pleasure, 
 and nowe they be hated farre passiwge all measure ; 
 There wiues and there wealthe haue made them so mute, 
 They can not nor dare not \fith Campyan dispute. 28 
 
 let reason rule & rackiwge sease, 
 
 or els for euer hold jour peace ; 
 
 you can not wjV^stand godes powre & his grace, 
 
 no, not w«tA y® tower nor y® rackinge place. 32 
 
 A golden verse, wA«ch truly saithe, 
 
 let reson goe, hold fast thy faithe : 
 
 A mayde to be a mother & god a man, 
 
 let reason go, man, and beleue thowe y® mother, 
 
 set faithe aboue & lett reason goe vnder. 37 
 
166 Campion Poems. 11.— Eis Death. 
 
 II. 
 
 [From " A true reporte of the death and marfcyrdome of M. Campion, Jesuite 
 and preisto, and M. Sherwin and M. Bryan, preistes, at Tiborne the first of 
 December 1581. Observid and written by a Catholike preist, which was present 
 therat. "Wherunto is annexid certayne versos made by sundrie persons." (British 
 Museum.) In the black letter original, the proper names in the poems are 
 printed in Eoman type : this has not been made italic here.] 
 
 Fpon tf)e neatfi of ^, CDmunD Campion, one of 
 m ^ocietie of tfje W^ name of 3lesus. 
 
 1. 
 
 "Why do I vse my paper, inke, and penne ? 
 
 and call my wits to counsel what to say ? 
 
 such memories were made for mortall men, . 
 
 I speak of Saints whose names can not decay : 
 
 an Angels trumpe were fitter for to sound 
 
 their glorious death, if such in earth war found. 6 
 
 Pardon my want, I ofier nought hut will ; 
 
 their register remaineth safe aboue. 
 
 Campion exceedes the compasse of my skill, 
 
 yet let me vse the measure of my loue, 
 
 and giue me leaue, in lowe and homeli verse, 
 
 his hye attempts in England to rehearse. 12 
 
 He came by vow : the cause to conquer sinne ; 
 his armour prayer, the word his targe & shield ; 
 . his co;«fort heauen, his spoyle our soules to win, 
 the diuel his foe, the wicked world the field : 
 his triumph ioy, his wage eternall blis, 
 his Captaine Christ, which euer blessed is. 18 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS. : Line 3. earthly for mortall. 11. humble 
 for homeli. 16. His bndge the Crosse for the diuel his foe. 17. The 
 DiucU his foe /oc his triumph ioy. 
 
Campion Poems. II.— Eis Death. 167 
 
 4. 
 From ease to paine, from honour to disgrace, 
 from loue to hate, to daunger being wel ; 
 from safe abode, to feares in euery place, 
 contemning death, to saue our soules from hel : 
 our new Apostle, comming to restore 
 the faith which Austine, planted here before. 24 
 
 5. 
 
 His natures flowres were mixt with herbes of grace ; 
 
 his mild behauiour tempered wel with skil ; 
 
 a lowly minde possest a learned place ; 
 
 a sugred speach, a rare and vertuous wil ; 
 
 a saintlike man was set on earth below, 
 
 the seede of truth in erring hartes to sow. 30 
 
 6. 
 
 With tung & pen the truth he taught & wrote, 
 
 by force wherof they came to Chiist apace; 
 
 but when it pleased God, it was his lote 
 
 he should be thrald, he lent him so much grace, 
 
 his patience then did worke as much or more, 
 
 as had his heauenly speeches done before. 36 
 
 7. 
 His fare was hard, yet mild & sweet his cheere ; 
 his prison close, yet free and lose his minde ; 
 his torture great, yet smal or none his feare ; 
 his offers large, but nothing could him blinde. 
 constant man, mind, O vertue strange, 
 whom want, nor wo, nor feare, nor hope coulde change ! 42 
 
 8. 
 From rack in Tower they broght him to dispute, 
 bookeles,* alone, to answere al that came : 
 yet Christ gaue grace, he did them all confute 
 so sweetly there, in glory of his name, 
 that euen the aduers part are forst to say, 
 that Campions cause did beare the bell away. 48 
 
 Variations, in the Oxford MS.: Line 26. by /or with. 30. lowe /ot' sow. 
 42. When for whom. 
 
 * In his disputations in the Tower, Campion was allowed only to have his 
 Bible ; not even a copy of his Decern Bationcs. 
 
168 Campion Poems. II. — His Death. 
 
 9. 
 
 This foyle enragde the minds of some so farre, 
 
 they thought it best to take his life away, 
 
 because they saw he would their matter marre, 
 
 and leaue them shortly nought at al to say : 
 
 tray tor he was, with many a seely slight, 
 
 yet pact a Jury that cried guylti straight. 54 
 
 10. 
 Religion, there was treason to the queene ; 
 preaching of penance, warre against the lande ; 
 prests were such dangerous mere as haue not bin ; 
 prayers & beads were fight and force of hande ; 
 cases of conscience, bane vnto the state ; 
 so blind is error, so false a witnes hate ! 60 
 
 11. 
 
 And yet behold, these lambes be drawen to dye ; 
 
 treason proclaymed, the queene is put in feare ; 
 
 out ypon satan ! fye ! malice, fye ! 
 
 speakst thou to them that did the guUdles heare P 
 
 can humble soules, departing now to Christ, 
 
 protest vntrue ? Avaunt, foule fend, thou lyst ! 66 
 
 12. 
 
 My soueraigne Liege, behold your subiects end — 
 
 your secret foes do misenforme your grace : — 
 
 who in your cause their holy Hues would spend 
 
 as traytors dye, a rare and monstrous case ! 
 
 the bloudy wolfe condemnes the harmeles shepe 
 
 before the dog, y^ whiles the shepherds* slepe. 72 
 
 13. 
 England, looke vp, thy soyle is staind with blood, 
 thow hast made martirs many of thihe owne ; 
 if thou hast grace, their deaths will do thee good, 
 the seede wil take, which in such blood is sowne ; 
 and Campions lerning, fertile so before, 
 thus watered too, must nedes of force be more. 78 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS. : Lino 49. but tliis/or This foyle. 54. They 
 part /oy yet pact. 67. byn scene /or bin. 69. were bane /oj- bane. 61. 
 arc /or bo. 65. vnto /o/- now to. 70. straungc/or rare. 
 
 * Orig. shcrhcrds. 
 
Campion Poems. II. — His Death. 169 
 
 14. 
 
 Repent thee, Eliot* of Ihy Judas kisse, 
 
 I wish thy penance, not thy desperate ende ; 
 
 let Norton f thinke, which now in prison is, 
 
 to whom was said, he was not Caesars friend ; 
 
 and let the Judge consider well in feare, 
 
 that Pilate washt his hands, and was not cleare. 84 
 
 15. 
 
 The witnesse false, Sledd,X Mimday, and the rest, 
 
 which had your slanders noted in your booke, 
 
 confesse your fault beforehand ; it were best, 
 
 lest G-od do find it written when he doth looke 
 
 in dreadful! doome vpon the soules of men : 
 
 it wil be late (alas !) to mend it then. 90 
 
 16. 
 
 You bloody iury Len,\\ and all the leauen, 
 
 take heede your verdit, which was giuen in hast, 
 
 do not exclude you from the ioyes of heauen, 
 
 and cause you rue it when the time is past : 
 
 and euery one whose malice causd him say 
 
 Crucifige, let him dread the terror of that day ! 9S 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS. : Line 86. with all for which had. 88. omit 
 doth. 91. rest /w leauen. 92. omit which was. 93. place of blest /or 
 ioyes of heauen. 
 
 * George Eliot, the man who found and betrayed Campion by pretending to 
 be a good Catholic. 
 
 t Norton, a commissioner for putting Campion to the torture. For an account 
 of him 'see Wood, Atheiue Oxonienses ; also some notices in Collier's Doddey's 
 Old Flays, i. p. 110. There is much about him in Bridgewater's Concertatio, fol. 
 64, 73, 77, 127-129, 223, 229. His imprisonment here referred to was not for 
 treason, as Allen suggests [Concertatio, fol. 221 verso), but for taking part in the 
 contraband printing of a Puritan book. 
 
 X Sledd had entered the Roman Seminary as a Catholic, but, as he professed, 
 with the intention of betraying his associates there. Concertatio, fol. 62, 95, 121. 
 (For Munday, see the Introduction, pp. 158, 159.) 
 
 II Lee was the foreman of the jury. 
 
170 Campion Poems. 11.— His Death. 
 
 17. 
 
 Fonde Eldcrton* call in thy foolish rime, 
 
 thy scurile balates are to bad to sell ; 
 
 let good men rest, and mende thy self in time, 
 
 confesse in prose thou hast not meetred well ; 
 
 or, if thy folly can not choose but fayne, 
 
 write alehouse toys, blaspheme not in thy vain. 102 
 
 18. 
 
 Remember, you that would oppresse the cause, 
 
 the Church is Christes, his honor can not dye, 
 
 though hel her selfe reuest f her gresly iawes, 
 
 and ioyne in league with schisme and heresie ; 
 
 though craft deuise, and cruell rage oppresse, 
 
 yet skil wil write, and martirdome confesse. 108 
 
 19. 
 
 You thought perhaps, where lerned Campion dyes, 
 
 his pen must cease, his sugred tongue be still ; 
 
 but you forgot how lowde his death it cryes, 
 
 how farre beyond the sound of tongue and quil ; 
 
 you did not know how rare and great a good 
 
 it was to write his precious giftes in blood. 114 
 
 20. 
 
 Lining, he spake to them that present were, 
 
 his writings tooke their Censure of the viewe ; 
 
 now fame reports his lerning farre and nere, 
 
 and now his death confirmes his doctrine true. 
 
 his vertues now are written in the skyes, 
 
 and often read with holy inward eyes. 120 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS. . Line 105. revert her greedie for revest her 
 gresly. 114. death /o;- giftes. 116. lightninge /m- lining. 
 
 * Elderton, one of the most industrious of the ballad-writers of the day. He 
 is often referred to by Nash, Deloney, and others. Many of bis productions have 
 survived, and some have been reprinted by Mr. Collier. 
 
 t " reuest " should probiibly be revert. 
 
Campion Poems. II. — His Death. 171 
 
 21. 
 
 All Europe wonders at so rare a man ; 
 
 England. is fild with rumor of his ende; 
 
 London must needs, for it was present than, 
 
 when constantly three saints their liues did spend, 
 
 the streets, the stones, the steps you hald them by, 
 
 proclaime the cause for which these martirs dy. 126 
 
 22. 
 The Tower saith, the truth he did defend ; 
 the barre beares witnes of his guiltles minde ; 
 Tiborne doth tell he made a pacient ende ; 
 on euery gate* his martirdome we finde. 
 in yaine you wroght y' would obscure his name, 
 for heauen and earth will still record the same. 132 
 
 23. 
 
 Your sentence wrong pronounced of him here, 
 
 exemptes him from the iudgments for to come ; 
 
 happy he that is not iudged there ! 
 
 God graunt me too to haue an earthly dome ! 
 
 your witnes false, and lewdly taken in, 
 
 doth cause he is not now accusd of sin. 138 
 
 24. ' 
 His prison now the citie of the king ; 
 ' his racke and torture, ioyes and heuenly blisse ; 
 for mens reproch, with angels he doth sing 
 a sacred song, which euerlasting is : 
 for shame but short, and losse of small renowne, 
 he purchast hath an euer during crowne. 144 
 
 25. 
 His quarterd lims shall ioyne with ioy agayne, 
 and rise a body brighter then the sunne : 
 your blinded malice tor'turde him in vayne. 
 For euery wrinch some glory hath him wonne, 
 and euery drop of blood which he did spend, 
 hath reapt a ioy which neuer shal haue end. 150 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS.: Line 129. godly /o»- pacient. 141. reports 
 /»?• reproch. 144. sempiternall /<»• euer during. 148. wring /or wrinch. 
 
 * The quarters of persons executed for treason were usually nailed up on the 
 town gates, where their heads were also placed. 
 
172 Campion Poems. 11.— His Death. 
 
 26. 
 Can dreary death tliera daunt our faith or paine ? 
 ist' lingring life we feare to loose, or ease ? 
 no, no, such death procureth life againe, 
 'tis only God we tremble to displease, 
 who kils but once, and euer stil we dye, 
 whose hote reuenge tormentes eternallye. 156 
 
 27. 
 We can not feare a mortal torment, wee ; 
 this Martirs blood hath moystned all our harts, 
 whose partid quartirs when we chaunce to see, 
 we lerne to play the constant christians parts ; 
 his head doth speake, & heauenly precepts giue, 
 how we y' looke, should frame ourselues to liue. 162 
 
 28. 
 His youth enstructs vs how to spend our dales ; 
 his flying bids vs'how to banish sinne ; 
 his straight profession shews the narrow waies 
 which they must walk that looke to enter in ; 
 his home returne by danger and distresse, 
 emboldens ys our conscience to professe. 168 
 
 29. 
 His hardle drawes vs with him to the crosse ; 
 his speeches there prouoke vs for to dye ; 
 his death doth say this life is but a losse ; 
 his martird blood from heauen to vs doth crye ; 
 his first and last and all conspire in this, 
 to shew the way that leadeth vnto blisse. 174 
 
 30. 
 Blessed be Grod, which lent him so much grace, 
 thanked be Christ, which blest his martir so ; 
 happy is he which sees his masters face. 
 Cursed are they that thought to worke him wo ; 
 bounden be we to gene eternall prayse 
 to Jesus name which such a man did rayse. 180 
 
 Amen. 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS. . Line 164. so for how. 166. to for that. 
 178. whic)i/o)- tliat. 
 
Campion Poems. II. — His Death. 173 
 
 Zn otfjer, upon tbe same. 
 1. 
 
 What yrou hart that wold not melt in greefe ? 
 
 what Steele or stone could kepe him dry from teares ? 
 
 to see a Campion haled like a theefe, 
 
 to end his life, with both his glorious feares,* 
 
 in whose three deathes vnto the standers by, 
 
 euen al the world almost might seeme to dye. 6 
 
 2, 
 England must lose a soueraigne salue for sinne, 
 a sweet receit for suttle heresie : 
 India a saint her seely soules to winne, 
 Turky a bane for her idolatrie ; 
 the Church a souldier against Babylon, 
 to batter hell and her confusion. 12 
 
 3. 
 
 The skowling skies did storme & puff apace, 
 
 they could not bear y® wrongs y' malice wroght ; 
 
 the sunne drew in his shining purple face, 
 
 the moistned clouds shed brinish tears for thoght ; 
 
 the riuer Thames awhile astonied stoode 
 
 To count the drops of Campions sacred blood. 18 
 
 4. 
 Nature with tears bewaild her heauy losse ; 
 honesty feard her selfe should shortly dye ; 
 religion saw her Champion on the crosse ; 
 Angels and saints desired leaue to cry ; 
 euen herisie, the eldest child of hell, 
 began to blush, and thought she did not well. 24 
 
 5. 
 And yet, behold ! when Campion made his end, 
 his humble hart was so bedewde with grace, 
 that no reproch could once his mind offend ; 
 mildnes possest his sweet and cherefuU face ; 
 a pacient spectacle was presented then, 
 in sight of God, of angels, saints, and men. 30 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS. : Line 4. peers /or feares. 6. did /or might. 
 11. Champion /or souldier. 
 * " feares "= feres, or comrades, yiz. Sherwin and Bryant. 
 III. 
 
174 Campion Poems. II. — His Death. 
 
 6. 
 
 The heuens did cleare, y" sun like gold did shine, 
 
 the cloudes were dry, the fearful riuer ranne : 
 
 nature and vertue wypt their watred eyen, 
 
 religion ioyed to see so mild a man ; 
 
 men, angels, saints, and al that saw him dye, 
 
 forgot their grief, his ioyes appeard so nye. 36 
 
 7. 
 
 They saw his pacience did expect a crowne ; 
 
 his scornful cart, a glorious heauenly place ; 
 
 his lowly mind, a happy high renowne ; 
 
 his humble cheare, a shining angels face ; 
 
 his feare, his griefe, his death, & agonie, 
 
 a ioy, a peace, a life in maiestie. 42 
 
 8. 
 
 From thence he prayes and sings in melodie 
 
 for our recure, and calleth vs to him ; 
 
 he stands before the throne with harmonie, 
 
 and is a glorious suter for our sinne : 
 
 with wings of loue he jumped vp so hye, 
 
 to helpe the cause for which he sought to dye. 48 
 
 9. 
 
 Reioyce, be glad, triumph, sing himmes of ioye. 
 
 Campion, Sherwine, Brian live in blis : 
 
 they sue, they seeke the ease of our annoy ; 
 
 they pray, they speake, and al effectuaU is ; 
 
 not like to men on earth as heretofore. 
 
 But like to saints in heauen, and that is more. 54 
 
 Finis. 
 
 Variations in the Oxford MS. : Line 33. mixt fm- wypt. 36. his for their. 
 37. picture /o>- pacience. 40. smylinge/o;- shiuing. 
 
Campion Poems. II.— A Dialogue on Campion. 175 
 
 a Dialogue ficttocne a Caftolifee anD Consolation. 
 
 Catholike first speaketh. 
 
 Is righteous Lot from sinful Sodome gone ? 
 
 is oldie Elias left alone agayne ? 
 
 and hath the earth no iust man, no not one, 
 
 the cause of Christ and Christians to sustaine ? 
 
 if holy life with true religion fayle, 
 
 then farewell faith, for falsehood wiU preuayle. 6 
 
 Consolation. 
 
 No, Lot, thou hast some felowes in this land, 
 
 EUas, there are left seuen thousand yet ; 
 
 reioyce, thou earth, thou hast a warlike hande 
 
 for our good Lord in martial order set, 
 
 by life and death this quarel to beginne, 
 
 to vanquish falsehood, satan, hell, and sinne. 12 
 
 Although a worthy Champion of your trayne 
 
 were slayne of late, and yet not vanquished, 
 
 into his place another stept againe ; 
 
 whora Christs spouse our cowmon nurse hath bred ; 
 
 lament not then, for there are in his rome 
 
 as good as he, expecting martirdome. 18 
 
 Catholike. 
 
 Such men, no doubt, are very hard to finde, 
 
 for dainty things are seldome sifted out ; 
 
 the Phenix hath no partner of her kinde ; 
 
 a man perhaps may seeke the world about, 
 
 ere he may find one Campion agayne ; 
 
 wherfore his losse makes me the more co»«plaine. 24 
 
 Where shal you find so many giftes in one, 
 
 a wit so sharpe, ioynd with such memory, 
 
 a great diuine, hating promotion, 
 
 a lusty man professing chastitie, 
 
 a worthy roope* spronge vp of basest kinde, 
 
 a lerned man to beare a lowly minde. 30 
 
 ' roope," probably root. 
 
 2 
 
17(3 Campion Poems. II. — A Dialogue on Campion. 
 
 Solon for pith, for wisedome Salomon, 
 
 Peter for style, and Paule for eloquence, 
 
 Dauid for trueth, for beautie Absolon, 
 
 for personage Saule, a Jobe for patience : 
 
 all that for which the fame of these began, 
 
 (a thing most strange) were ioynde in this one man. 36 
 
 Not rack nor rope cold daunt his dredles mind, 
 
 no hope nor hap could moue him where he stood, 
 
 he wrote the truth as in his bookes we finde, 
 
 which to confirme he sealed with his blood, 
 
 which makes me dout there are no mo such men, 
 
 send workmen, Lord, into thy vineyarde then ! 42 
 
 Consolation. 
 
 Dispaire thou not, thou seely mournful wight, 
 
 for there are mo haue tooke this match in hand ; 
 
 we needs must win, our lord himself doth fight, 
 
 the Cananites shal be expulsd the land, 
 
 for Edmund Hues and helpeth godly men 
 
 by prayers, more then erst with tongue or pen. 48 
 
 His quarters hong on euery gate do showe, 
 
 his doctrine sound throgh countries far and neare, 
 
 his head set vp so high doth call for moe 
 
 to fight the fight which he endured here, 
 
 the faith thus planted thus restored must be, 
 
 take vp thy crosse, saith Christ, and folow me. 54 
 
 As well as preists the lay men too shall frame 
 their skillesse heads to take so good a vowe, 
 God can of stones rayse seede to Abraham ; 
 doubt not, therfore, for there will be enowe. 
 
 Catholike. 
 
 Fiat voluntas Dei, then say I, 
 
 we owe a death, and once we needes must dye. co 
 
 Finis. 
 
Campion Poems. II. — A Complaint on Campion. 177 
 
 Cfje complaint of a Cat&oUfee for tU Deat& of 
 00* COmunD Campion. 
 
 God, from sacred throne beholde 
 
 our secret sorrowes here, 
 Regard with grace our helplesse griefe, 
 
 amend our mournfull cheere. 4 
 
 The bodies of thy Saintes abrode 
 
 are set for foules to feede. 
 And brutishe birds deuour the flesh 
 
 of faithful! folke in deede. 8 
 
 Alas ! I rue to thinke vpon 
 
 the sentence truely scande, 
 No prophet any honor hath 
 
 within his natiue lande. 1 2 
 
 Thy dolefull death, Campion, is 
 
 bewayld in euery coste, 
 But we liue here & litle knowe 
 
 what creatures we haue loste. 16 
 
 Bohemia land laments the same, 
 
 Rodulphus court is sad. 
 With deepe regarde they now recorde 
 
 what vertues Campion had. 20 
 
 Germania mourns, al Spayne doth muso, 
 
 and so doth Italy, 
 And Fraunce our friend hath put in print 
 
 his passing tragedie. 24 
 
 They that wuld make these mew to seeme 
 
 to be hir highnes foes, 
 Lorde, it is a worlde to see 
 
 the fayned fraude of those, 28 
 
 For when they had in dastard wise 
 
 deuised to dispute, 
 And could not finde in al their craft 
 
 the cause for to confute, 32 
 
 And that their winnings was so well* 
 
 they needed not to boste. 
 And that in consciens they did know 
 
 new found is lightly loste, ?s 
 
 * Qttenj small. 
 
178 Campion Poems. II. — A Complaint on Campion. 
 
 They suttly seeke a further fetche 
 
 contrary to all reason, 
 To say he is not Caesars frende, 
 
 accusing him of treasone. 40 
 
 But shal we mutche lament the same, 
 
 or shall we more reioyce. 
 Such was the case with Christ our lord, 
 
 sutche was the Jewish voyce. 44 
 
 So wer their wrathful words pronounst, 
 
 so was their sentence wrong, 
 For Christ did giue to Caesar that 
 
 which did to him belong ; 48 
 
 So Christ his true disciples here 
 
 no treason do pretend. 
 But they by Christ and Christ his lore 
 
 their fayth till death defende. 52 
 
 Though error haue deuised now 
 
 a visard so vnfit 
 To cloke her craft to change the case, 
 
 to blear ech simple wit, 56 
 
 Because she taught ¥s long before 
 
 that none for poynts of fayth, 
 According vnto Christes lore 
 
 ought to be done to death. 60 
 
 Her wilines wer soone bewra3'ed, 
 
 had they but once recanted. 
 No doubt therof they had not then 
 
 not life nor lining wanted. 64 
 
 Thus who so ways her works & words, 
 
 with fraude shal find them fraught, 
 And how they now performe the same 
 
 that heretofore they taught. 68 
 
 God knowes it is not force nor might, 
 
 not warre nor warlike band, 
 Not shield & spear, not dint of sword, 
 
 that must conuert the land : 72 
 
 It is the blood by martirs shed, 
 
 it is that noble traine, 
 That fight with word & not with sword, 
 
 and Christ their capitaine. 76 
 
 For sooner shall you want the handes 
 
 to shed sutch guiltles blood. 
 
Campion Poems. 11.—^ Complaint on Cumpion. 179 
 
 Then wise and vertuous still to come 
 
 to do theyr country good. 80 
 
 God saue Elizabeth our queene, 
 
 Grod send her happie raigne, 
 And after earthly honors here, 
 
 the heauenly ioyes to gayne. 84 
 
 And all sutch men as heretofore 
 
 haue ipisinformd her Grace, 
 God graunt they may amend the same 
 
 while here they haue the space. 88 
 
 Finis. 
 
180 Campion Poems. III. — Anthony Munday's Reproof. 
 
 III. 
 
 [From " A breefe Aunswer made vnto two seditious Pamphlets, the one printed 
 in French and the other in English, contayning a defence of Edmund Campion 
 and his complices, their moste horrible and vnnaturall Treasons against her Maiestie 
 and the Realme. By A. M." London, 1582. (Lambeth Library).] 
 
 ^x^ Fetges in t|)e LitieU, mane in pragse of tfie 
 
 ^^ rieatb of a^aister Campion, one of t5e 
 
 societie of tfje fjolie name of 3lesu0j fjeere 
 
 cf)aungeti to t6e reproofe of &im anB tfje 
 
 ot&er Craitours. 
 
 WHY doo I vse my paper, inke, and pen, 
 and call my wits in couwcell what to say ? 
 Sucli memories were made for woorthy men, 
 And not for such as seeke their Realms decay. 
 An Angels trumpe exalts y® Subiects trueth, 
 When shame rings foorth y^ Traitors fearful rueth. 6 
 
 Pardon my want, I offer naught but will. 
 
 To note downs those, at whome the Skies do skowle : 
 Campion his treasons do exceed my skil. 
 
 The cause, his comming, & the deede too fowle. 
 Yet giue me leaue in base and homely verse, 
 His lewd attempts in England to rehearse. 12 
 
 He came by vowe, the cause, his Princesse foyle. 
 
 His armour, Treason, to his Countryes woe : 
 His comfort, blood, slaughter & greeuous spoyle. 
 The Deuill his Author had incenst him so. 
 His triumphe, En glands ruine and decay : 
 The Pope his Captaine, thirsting for it aj^e. 18 
 
 From ease to paine, from honour to disgrace, 
 
 From looue to hate, to daunger beeing well : 
 Thus dyd he fall, flying his natiue place, 
 
 and Countrey, where by duty he should dwell. 
 Our no Apostle comming to restore, 
 The bloody sway was sometime heere before. 24 
 
Campion Poems. III. — Anthony Munday's Reproof. 181 
 
 His natures flowers were mixt with hu?my gall, 
 
 His lewd behauiour, enimie to skill ; 
 A climing minde, reiecting wisedomes call, 
 A sugred tongue, to shrowde a vicious will ; 
 A Saintlyke face, yet such a deuillish hart 
 As sparde no trauaile for his countries smart. • 30 
 
 With tongue and pen, the trueth he did suppres, 
 
 Stopping the way that Christians did desire. 
 Which pleased Grod for his great wickednes, 
 To stay his race, wherein he dyd aspire. 
 Then his behauiour witnessed the more 
 What he was then, as also long before. 36 
 
 His fare was good, yet he a scoi'nefuU cheare. 
 
 His prison fayre, yet he a froward minde ; 
 His councell good, yet deafned was his eare, 
 Perswasions large, he obstinate and blinde. 
 
 Oh stubborne maw, oh minde & nature strauwge ! 
 Whome wisdom, pittie, grace, nor looue could chaun ge. 42 
 
 After great pause, they brought him to dispute, 
 With Bookes as many as he could demaund ; 
 His cheefest cause, they quickly did confute, 
 His proofe layd downe, reprooued out of hand. 
 So that the simplest present there could say. 
 That Campions cause did beare the shame away. 48 
 
 After his foyles so often to his face, 
 
 It was thought good. Justice his deedes should trie ; 
 Upon appearaunce of so fowle a case, 
 Nature her selfe, wild doome deseruedlie. 
 Traitour he was, by prooues sufficient foumd ; 
 The Jewrie sawe his Treasons so abound. 54 
 
 Her Maiestie to be depriu'd of lyfe, 
 
 A forraine power to enter in our Land ; 
 Secrete rebellion must at home be rife, 
 
 Seducing Preests receiu'd that charge in hawd ; 
 All this was cloaked with Religious showe. 
 But Justice tried, and found it was not so. 60 
 
182 Campion Poems. III. — Anthony Monday's Reproof. 
 
 Then rightful! doome bequeathed them to dye, 
 
 Whose treasons put her Maiestie in feare ; 
 Out on the fiend, whose mallice wrought so slie 
 Hath wun a number, part with him to beare. 
 But thinketh he, his enuie can preuaile ? 
 No, little Dauid did the Giaunt quaile. 66 
 
 My gratious Princesse, see your Subiects mone, 
 Such secret foes among them should be found. 
 Who serue your Grace in duety euery one, 
 
 though treasow seek to make their harts vnsouwd. 
 The bloody woolf prayes on y® harmles sheepe. 
 So treason seekes in loyall harts to creepe. 72 
 
 England, looke vp, thy Children doo rebell ; 
 
 Unreuerent actes haue entred in their minde ; 
 The subiect seekes his rightfull Prince to quell, 
 Yea, his natiue Oountrey prooues vnkinde. 
 
 Oampiow, who sometime y° didst sweetly sourse. 
 Prepares his venome to destroy his Nourse. " 78 
 
 Eliot reioyce, that God prolonged thee 
 
 To take the man, who meant vs all such yll : 
 As for thy slaunders, take them patiently, 
 Enuie drawes blood, and yet hee can not kyll. 
 Those who by words he seerade to put in feare : 
 Haue washt their hawds in iudgement souwd and cleare. 84 
 
 Myselfe a witnesse. Sled and all the rest 
 
 who had their treasons noted in our Booke, 
 Account our selues of God most highly blest, 
 who gaue vs grace to such attempts to looko ; 
 And hauing giuen our witnes sound & plaine, 
 We feare not mallice, nor his spightful traiu. 90 
 
 The well aduised Jewrie on this cause, 
 
 Who with discretion pondred euerie thing, 
 Behelde their treasons with such heedfuU pause. 
 That they fouwd out the depth of Enuies sting. 
 Whereby they saw the stirrers of this strife 
 Were farre ynvvoorthv any longer life. 0(> 
 
Campion Poems. IIT. — Anthony Munday's Reproof. 183 
 
 Yea, Elderton dooth deskant in his rime, 
 
 The high offences of such gracelesse men. 
 Which causeth him to yrke at euerie crime, 
 And gainst their treasons to prouide his pen ; 
 Yet not without wisedome and modestie, 
 To warne all other that liue wickedlie. 102 
 
 Remember you that would oppresse the cause, 
 
 Our Church is Ohristes, his honour cawnot die. 
 Though hell him selfe reuest his griesly iawes. 
 And ioyne in league with treason & poperie. 
 Though craft deuise, and cruel rage oppresse, 
 Christe will his chosen styll in safetie blesse. 108 
 
 You thought, perhaps, presumptious Campiow could 
 
 disseuer those, whom Christ hath ioynd in one, 
 And that our gratious louing sheepheard would, 
 Before the woolfe, forsake his flock alone. 
 No, he preserues his Sheepe for greater good, 
 And drownes y" rauener in his enuious blood. 114 
 
 We knowe that Campion lining did intreate 
 
 The Subiect from his vowde humilitie ; 
 No we therefore shame his dealings dooth repeate 
 Throughout the world to his great infamie. 
 The skies themselues, with lo wring angry face, 
 Adiudge his deedes, woorthy of all disgrace. 120 
 
 All Europe woonders at this shamelesse man, / 
 
 England is fild with rumor of his race ; 
 London must needes, for it was present than, 
 whew Justice did three Traitorous minds deface. 
 The streets, y® stones, y^ steps they halde thew by, 
 Pronounst these Traitours woorthy for to die. 126 
 
 The Tower sayeth he Treason did defend ; 
 
 The Barre beares witnesse of his guilty minde ; 
 Tiborne dooth tell he made a Traitours ende ; 
 On euery gate example we may finde. 
 
 In vaine they work to laude him -with such fame, 
 
 For heauen & earth beares witnes of his shame. 132 
 
184 Campion Poems. III. — Anthony Munday's Reproof. 
 
 The rightful sentence giuen of him heere, 
 
 Will charge his conscience in the time to come ; 
 Although they say he is excused there, 
 
 And shall not taste Gods iudgmewt & his doome. 
 Saint Paul dooth say, in reuerence of y"* highest, 
 "We all shall come before the seate of Christ, 133 
 
 There to make aunswer vnto euerie thing, 
 
 And to receyue reward accordinglie ; 
 
 If well, the Cittie of our heauenlie king 
 
 Shall recompence our former miserie, 
 
 "Where we with Angels voice continuallie, 
 
 Shall laude the gaine we haue so happilie. 144 
 
 Then blinded mallice shall perceyue and see 
 
 His owne deuises, Author of his rueth ; 
 And how true Subiects haue felicitie. 
 In recompence of their assured trueth. 
 The one condemnd for his disloyaltie, 
 The other crownd for his fidelitie. 150 
 
 Can Treason then preuent our happy peace ? 
 
 Or blustring winds assayle our Sprouting Tree ? 
 No, soueraine Faith sends down her due encrease. 
 And shroudes her Plant in sweete tranquilitie ; 
 So that the foe, presuming on his might, 
 Is forste to know : Faith can preuent him quite. 156 
 
 Let vs not feare a mortall Tirant then. 
 
 Seeing Faith and Trueth dooth eleuate our harts, 
 God hath reserued one to conquer ten, 
 
 Let vs then learne to play true Christians parts. 
 The head of him that sought our Countries wo 
 Dooth witnesse shame to all that seeke it so. 162 
 
 His youth dooth bj'd vs bannish filthy pride, 
 
 his fleeting hence, to serue our Prince in trueth ; 
 His lewd profession dooth lay open wide, 
 To fall from God, how greeuous is the rueth. 
 His home returne, his Challenge, & deface, 
 Saith : Subiects, keep true harts in cuery place. 168 
 
Campion Poems. III. — Munday's Reproof {No. 2). 185 
 
 His Hardle drawes his sect vnto like ende, 
 
 His speeches there, vnfolde their tretcherie ; 
 His death dooth say : "Who so his life dooth spe72d 
 In faith and trueth, reapes ioy eternallie. 
 His first and last, and all agree in one : 
 Ther's none to helpe vs, hut our God alone. 174 
 
 Blessed be God, who cut him off so soone, 
 
 Tharaked be Christ, which blest his seruants so ; 
 Happy are we, that haue such comfort woon, 
 curssed are they that thought to work vs woe ! 
 Bounden we be to giue eternall prayse 
 To Jesus name, who did such refuge rayse. 180 
 
 Finis. 
 
 ^ another lopon t&e same. 
 
 What iron hart, that would not melt in woe, 
 
 what Steele or stoone could keepe him drie from teares ? 
 To see a Subiect fall from duetie so. 
 
 And arme him selfe vnto his Couwtries feares ? 
 In their three deaths, y? standers by might see 
 The ende of hatred and disloyaltie. 6 
 
 England may mono a Subiect erred so, 
 
 "Without respect of God and Natures la we ; 
 And we our selues may show some signe of woe. 
 That treason should our brother from vs draw ; 
 That Antichrist should gain our CampioKs hart. 
 And make him Soldier to his couwtries smart. 12 
 
 The skowling skies did storme and puffe apace, 
 
 they could not beare y^ wrowg y* malice wrought ; 
 The Sun drew in his goldera shining face, 
 
 y^ moistned clowds shed brinish teares wzt/i thought ; 
 The Riuer Thames against his course would v\xn, 
 To count the treasojis Campion would haue doon. 18 
 
186 Campion Poems. III. — Munday's Reproof {No. 2). 
 
 Nature her selfe, with teares hedewd her face, 
 
 Duetie in countenaunce looked pale and wan ; 
 Shee, for to think her worke should her disgrace ; 
 He, to be wanting in an English man. 
 
 Euen Antichriste, the eldest childe of hell, 
 
 Began to blush, and thought he did not well. 24 
 
 For loe, beholde, when Campion made his end. 
 His hardned hart refused soueraigne grace ; 
 His owne reproche did so his minde offend. 
 That treason did appeare vpon his face : 
 An yrksome spectacle was presented then. 
 In sight of God, of Angels, Saints, and men. 30 
 
 The heauens did cleere, y^ Sun like gold did shine. 
 
 The Clowdes were drie, the fearfull Riuer ran. 
 Nature and Vertue wipte their watred eyne. 
 To see that lustice cut off such a man. 
 
 Men, Angels, Saints, and all that saw him die, 
 
 Gaue thankes to God in heauenly melodic. 36 
 
 They saw Peruersenes had withdrawn his minde, 
 
 And Treason quite supplanted Dueties awe, 
 Presumptuous thoughts did humble Patience blind ; 
 There was no place for Graces, well they sawe. 
 His falsehood, treasons and impietie. 
 With blame and shame, did ende in infamie. 42 
 
 By whose example, euerie Subiect maye 
 
 Be warned howe they fall in such abuse ; 
 And all their thoughts on loyaltie to staye, 
 
 Least they likewise doo taste like sharpe refuse ; 
 For Honour dooth exalt the Subiect iust, 
 "When Horrour throwes y^ Traitour in y® dust. 48 
 
 Reioycey be glad, triumph, sing Himnes of ioy ! 
 
 Campion, Sherwin, Brian, haue their due ! 
 They are supprest, that sought our great annoy ; 
 I hope their fellowes shortly shall ensue ! 
 
 For faithfull minds doo lothe y' they should Hue, 
 
 Who to their Countrey doo dishonour giue. 64 
 
 Finis. 
 
Campion Poems. lll.—Wunda^'s Eeproqf {No. 3). 187 
 
 a Dialogue ficttoeenc a CStistian ano Consolation. 
 
 Christian speaketii first. 
 
 Is chaste Susanna in the ludges handes ? 
 
 Is Daniell left vnto the Lions iawes ? 
 Doo Subiects breake bothe Gbd & Natures barades ? 
 And Enuie seeke to put dov^ne Peace her Iawes ? 
 Dooth perfect awe and tru6 Religion fayle ? 
 Then may I feare that falsehood will preuayle. 6 
 
 Consolation. 
 
 No, Susans foes the Lord will cut in twaine, 
 
 and stop the mouthes of Danielles enimies : 
 Reioyce therfore, thou hast a noble trayne, 
 Armde by the Lord in most triumphant wise ; 
 Whose life and death, thy quarrell will begin. 
 To Tanquish falsehood, Sathan,_hell and sinne. 12 
 
 Beholde of late, a Champion of their traine. 
 
 Confuted, foyled, yea, and vanquished. 
 With those who did like tretcheries maintaine. 
 In their deuises, they soone perished : 
 
 Lament not then, for Justice holds y^ swoord. 
 
 Who to them all, will like desert affoord. 18 
 
 Christian. 
 
 Alas ! I mourhe, and sit with sighing minde, 
 
 To see my natiue Countrey-men rebell 
 Against the onely Phoenix of her kinde, 
 
 Who dooth in grace and goodnesse all excell. 
 
 And could proud Cawjpion thinke to worke her woe ? 
 Lord, cowfoured them aU y* seeke it so ! 24 
 
 What were his giffces, if we recount ech one ? 
 
 A pregnant wit, I graunt to tretcherie ; 
 A bad Diuine, seeking promotion ; 
 A lustie man, detesting chastitie ; 
 
 A gracelesse impe, sprung vp of basest kinde ; 
 
 A simple man, to beare a loftie minde. 30 
 
188 Campion Poems. III. — Munday's Reproof {No. 2>).. 
 
 His pithie wisedome, style and eloquence, 
 
 Comparde with those of fame and dignitie, 
 Dooth open plaine his freends insipience ; 
 His confutation prooues it worthilie. 
 
 All the reportes whereby his fame began, 
 
 Were neuer found to harbour in the man. 36 
 
 Then boast no farder of his dreadlesse minde, 
 
 Which rack nor roape could alter, as you say ; 
 Recount his treasons, cruell and vnkinde. 
 And then his prayse will soone be layd away. 
 
 Your prayse; his pompe, nor al you haue in store. 
 
 Can make the man the woorthier ere y" more. 42 
 
 Consolation. 
 
 Tis true in deede, their follie is in sight, 
 
 vnto their shame that take like thing in hand ; 
 We needs must win, our Lord himself doth fight, 
 The Cananites shalbe expulst the Land ; 
 Yea, all the deedes of such vngodly men 
 Shalbe confounded, nere to rise agen. 48 
 
 Campion, his* quarters on the gates doo showe 
 
 His treason, doctrine, and his lyfe too yll ; 
 His head set vp, dooth daylie call for moe 
 Of those that leane vnto like wicked wyll : 
 Well may they flaunt & florish for a space. 
 But trueth in ende their dealinges will disgrace. 54 
 
 Not hell it selfe our iniurie can frame, 
 
 But we shall prosper as the sprouting Baye ; 
 
 God can of stones rayse seede to Abraham ; 
 He is our hope, and he wyll helpe vs aye. 
 
 Chkistian. 
 
 Fiat^ voluntas Dei, then saye I, 
 
 I trust in God, whether I Hue or die. CO 
 
 Finis. 
 
 * Campion his = Campion's 
 
Campion Poems, 111.— Mimday's Reproof {No. 4). 189 
 
 Cbe Complaint of a C&rlstian, rcmem&rmg; m 
 tinnaturaU treasons of CDmunD Campion anD 
 W ConfeDerates. 
 
 God, from sacred throne belaolde 
 
 our secret sorrowes here ; 
 Regard with grace our helpless case,i 
 
 amend our mournfull cheere. 4 
 
 The creatures whome thou hast appoint 
 
 to liue in Princesse awe, 
 Forsake their duetie, looue, and feare, 
 
 and spurne at dueties lawe. 8 
 
 Alas ! I rue to thinke vppon 
 
 their factes so lately scand ; 
 Howe they did seeke their Princesse death, 
 
 and spoyle of natiue land. 1-2 
 
 Thy Treasons, Campion, is bewaylde 
 
 of many farre and neere. 
 To thinke what vnkinde actions, thou 
 
 wouldest haue perfourmed heere. IG 
 
 Bohemia Land may well reioyce, 
 
 Roduljihus Court be glad : 
 That thou to recompence thy paine, 
 
 such due desart hast had. 20 
 
 Germania maye leaue off to mourne, 
 
 yea, Spayne to muse, and Italie, 
 And Fraunce may rent that false report 
 
 of thy surmised Tragedie. 21 
 
 They that would make these men to seeme 
 
 as not her Highnesse foes ; 
 Lorde, it is a world to see 
 
 the fayned fraude of those ! 28 
 
 For when as Campion had presumde 
 
 to challenge a dispute. 
 His craftie cloake was soone pulde off ; 
 
 Learning did^ him confute. 32 
 
 Albeit his cauilles, skornes, and coyle, 
 
 he bare with shamelesse face, 
 Yet trueth pulde off his craftie vayle, 
 
 and shewed his wretched case ; 36 
 
 ' Orig. grace. 
 
190 Campion Poems. 111.— Mundat/s Reproof {No. 4). 
 
 So that although they did withstand 
 
 eche cause of right and reason, 
 Yet Justice soone found out the depth 
 
 of their most wicked treason. 40 
 
 Justice perceiu'd how, vnder cloake 
 
 of their Religion, 
 They comprehended trayterous guile 
 
 and false sedition. 44 
 
 Justice perceyued ho we they sought, 
 
 within their natiue Soyle, 
 To mooue rebellion and debate 
 
 to worke our secrete spoyle. 48 
 
 Justice perceyued howe the Pope, 
 
 with forraine Princes might. 
 Would vse our England as him pleasde, 
 
 and put our Queene from right. 52 
 
 How that these men were- sent before, 
 
 by his perswasion, 
 To make all ready gainst the tyme 
 
 of his inuasion ; 56 
 
 So that destruction suddenlie 
 
 should come vpon vs all ; 
 Those onely sau'd, had holie Graynes, 
 
 or could the watch-woord call. 60 
 
 All this did Justice playne discerne, 
 
 with many matters more. 
 Where-through they had the iust desart 
 
 that they deseru'd therefore. 64 
 
 God saue Elizabeth our Queene ! 
 
 God sende her happie raigne ! 
 And after earthlie Honours heere, 
 
 the heauenlie ioyes to gaine ! 68 
 
 And all that seeke her secrete harme, 
 
 or to annoy her Grace, 
 God turne their hearts, or that they may 
 
 enioy but lyttle space. 72 
 
 Finis. Anthomj Munday. 
 
Campion Poems. IV. — Campion's Example. 191 
 
 IV. 
 
 [From Domestie State Papers, James I,, Vol. 32, No. 32, U April, 1608 (Public 
 Record Office).] 
 
 Remember Oampione, how he died, that worthy wight, 
 Ralph Sherwine, and the rest besied, for Jesus right ; 
 thow canst not allwaies Hue & lest stand stiff Dear frend, 
 this breckish Liff is but a breth onct suer to end. 4 
 
 This Campione was for wisdom Salamone ; 
 
 peter for stiell & Paull for eloquence ; 
 
 Dauid for truth, for beuty absolone, 
 
 for personadg sauU ; a Job for paciens, 8 
 
 all thinges of w/w'ch in thes the sara begon, 
 
 two thinges most Strang was Joind in this on man. 
 
 No rack nor roap could daunt his [djredles mynd, 
 
 noe hop nor hap could moue hym wher he stood ; 12 
 
 he wrot the truth within our bockes wee find, 
 
 which, to confirm he sealed w?th his blood : 
 
 I am in Doubt ther ar noe moor such men ; 
 
 send workmen. Lord, into thi vinyard then. 16 
 
 Dispair thow not, thow sealy mornfuU wight, 
 
 for ther are moor hath taken this match in hand, 
 
 and Edmund liues & helpes the godly mene 
 
 by prayers moor then herst by tong or pen : 20 
 
 God cane of stone's rayse sied to Abraham, 
 
 therfor Doubt not ther wilbe Inne. 
 
 Fiat voluntas Dey, then say wee, 
 
 wee ove a death & onct must Die. 24 
 
 Fynis per me Kebehe in Sasene na exe. 
 
 indorsea Gcorg Jarvos Prist, suffred for god and his truth at 
 London the xi'" of Aprijll, 1608. 
 
 p2 
 
192 
 
 TWO POEMS BY JOHN LILLIAT. 
 
 As a specimen of the poems of John Lilliat, mentioned above, 
 p. 160, we give the following two, of which the latter utters the 
 writer's grievances. No information about the author seems at- 
 tainable. There is no mention of him in Wobd's Athenm 
 Oxonienses, nor are any productions by a person of such a name 
 in Carew Hazlitt's Handbook. The edition of Watson's poems, 
 previously alluded to, contains many other MS. poems at the 
 end, besides those cited here, and at the conclusion are the follow- 
 ing lines : — 
 
 " Quisquis in hunc librum sua lumina verterit unquam 
 Nomen subsoriptum perlegat ille meum." 
 
 Many of these pieces, however, cannot possibly be the pro- 
 duction of John Lilliat; for instance, we find copied out the 
 delicious old bucolic, so world-renowned, beginning, 
 
 " Come live witli me, and be my love." 
 
 Some of the songs in the MS. are accompanied by the music to 
 which they were sung ; among them is " A dittie vpon the death 
 of Dulcebell Porter, my schoUer : whose Mother died the 20 of 
 Nouember, beinge Munday, 1598, and this her daughter, Januarii 
 20, 1598." 
 
 " Thy like not left for Musick's skill 
 WaigHnge thy age and arte togither." 
 
 Tt would seem probable that Lilliat was a teacher of music. 
 
 [Eawl. MS. 148, fol. 43.] 
 
 C&e Spinet's With 
 
 (or Hnacfiar^is gapinge of &olon0 toiimn JLatwtsi)^ 
 
 1. 
 
 I meruayle mucli at spiteful! spiders giues, 
 In sucli slight sort, that weaue their web so thin : 
 Sith none, but Bees, or silly harmeless flies, 
 Intangled are, and fetterd fast therin. 
 Their wile approues them parciall as T win. 
 For if y^ Drone should once anoy their Net, 
 She rendes y° web, and scone therout doth get. 
 
LiUiat's Malcontent. 193 
 
 2. 
 The drowsie drone thus easly scapes we see, 
 which only lives Tpon poore others toyle ; 
 when little fiie, and paynefuU busie Bee, 
 Is left behinde, alone to beare the broyle, 
 whose fault but small, & yet to take the foyle : 
 
 The Spider rather should the Drone enthrall ; 
 
 Not Bees nor flies, w*"^ doe no harme at all. 14 
 
 3. 
 Herln contayned ys a Misterie, 
 w'* I refrayne in terraes to ytter flat : 
 Perhapps our Lawes this web may signifie, 
 But mum, be mute ; no more I say of that. 
 Let cease y'° tongue, & learne to charme y'° chat. 
 
 If I ofi'end, in Spider, or in Bee, 
 
 Blame Anacharsis ^ then, and blame not me. 21 
 
 IwX, 
 
 John Lilliat. 
 Lex exlex. 
 
 [Rawl. MSS. Poet 148, fol. 37.1 
 
 lilliat, Us 9@alecontent. 
 
 1. Attend awhile, 
 The ragged stile. 
 
 That from my Muse doth flo : 
 
 Whose lowd lament. 
 
 Of discontent, 
 Copartner of my woe. C 
 
 2. As men are friended. 
 So Lawe ys ended. 
 
 The adage olde doth say ; 
 
 And with the moste, 
 
 In evry Coast 
 Afiection bears the sway. 12 
 
 Who was a noble philosopher borne in Scythia, and formed the first Totters ivheele. 
 
194 The wealiest go to the tvall. 
 
 3. Lewd Barabbas 
 acquitted was 
 
 And sett at libertie : 
 
 when Jesus Christ, 
 
 Sonne of the hig'hst, 
 Condempned for to die. 18 
 
 4. The innocent, 
 in discontent, 
 
 finds fewest friends, God knowes : 
 
 when greater sway, 
 
 bears all away, 
 with bigg bravado showes. 24 
 
 5. Let little flie, 
 but looke awry, 
 
 Rewarded with a rapp : 
 
 When bigger bug 
 
 doth striue & strug, 
 And feareth not the slapp. 30 
 
 6. True iustice flead, 
 Playne dealing dead. 
 
 The weakest to the wall : 
 
 Wronge sets a face 
 
 Right to disgrace. 
 The Judge pleads parciall. 36 
 
 7. Yet in all this, 
 Not one ther is, 
 
 My wronge will seeme to right ; 
 
 But for myne ease, 
 
 am glad to please. 
 And say the Crowne is white, q* Im X. 42 
 
 Lucse. 21, 19. 
 
 Per patientiam vestram, 
 possidete animas vestras. 
 
 St. Barnard. 
 Deiectum, nou eiectum. 
 
195 
 
 POEMS REFERRmG TO THE EARL OF ESSEX. 
 
 The career of the unfortunate Essex, one of the most brilliant 
 favourites of Elizabeth, must always form an astonishing episode 
 in her reign. While, however, we lament the caprice of the 
 Queen, we see in this, as in corresponding reigns, that when a 
 female sovereign holds sway, the Court must necessarily become 
 a mere exercising ground for the most unscrupulous and in- 
 defatigable adventurers. Of course this remark only holds good in 
 the case of a semi-civilized country. As the rights of the citizen 
 are more and more respected, the outrageous development of 
 personalism — to coin a word— becomes in proportion impossible. 
 The history of the Eussian Court during the whole of the last 
 century furnishes a very striking parallel — a peculiar grossness, 
 however, being added by the remoteness of the scene of action from 
 the more polished centres of the west. In Essex's short life of 
 thirty-four years many events of surpassing interest were crowded. 
 In early youth — and we must remember that his life was destined 
 at best to be little more than youth — he served in the Netherlands 
 with the Earl of Leicester, where he held the commission of a 
 captain-general of the cavalry. On the approach of the Spanish 
 Armada, he was appointed to the like command, although at 
 the time only twenty-one years of age. But a vigorous mind and 
 a striking person had already marked him out as one of Fortune's 
 favourites. On the death of Leicester, he succeeded him as the 
 most prominent courtier; but his active temperament, rendering 
 him disinclined to sink into the mere drawing-room honours of 
 a carpet knight, urged him to join expeditions to France, where 
 iie was sent to assist Henry IV., and to Portugal, in an attempt 
 to place Don Antonio on the throne, and thereby weaken the 
 power of Philip of Spain, the uncompromising enemy of England. 
 The ballad-writers have not failed to speak of this exploit, and 
 we are told how he challenged the proudest in Lisbon to combat; 
 and when they dreaded the English champion, he stuck his 
 dagger in the gate in scorn of them, lilie the legendary Oleg of 
 Eussian history hanging his shield derisively on the walls of 
 trembling Constantinople. But his grandest achievement was 
 the capture of Cadiz in the year 1596, when a combined fleet 
 of English and Dutch, numbering 150 sail, and carrying 14,000 
 men, sailed under the command of- Essex in conjunction with 
 Lord Howard. This is the celebrated exploit which is entitled 
 in the Percy Collection the "Winning of Cales." When they 
 arrived at Cadiz, they attacked the shipping in the harbour, and 
 
106 . ^ The Wlnnuuj of Gales. 
 
 the Spanish commander was obliged to order the vessels to be 
 burnt, to prevent them from falling into the hands of the English. 
 Essex landed and captured the town, which he gave up to 
 plunder. He wished to hold Cadiz ; but a council of war would 
 not support him. The fleet therefore returned to England, laden 
 with booty, and having inflicted on the Spaniards a loss of four 
 millions sterling. Two ships of the enemy were also brought 
 back — the St. Matthew and St. Andrew. Macaulay speaks of 
 this expedition as " the most brilliant military exploit that was 
 achieved on the Continent by English arms during the long 
 interval which elapsed between the battle of Agincourt and that 
 of Blenheim."! 
 
 Essex displayed great ability in the affair. He set at liberty 
 some Moorish galley-slaves, and through them entered into 
 communication with the revolted Moors of the south of Spain, 
 who had been shamefully oppressed by Philip. 
 
 In 1597 a fleet sailed under the Earl of Essex and Sir "Walter 
 Ealeigh against the Azores. This is the celebrated "island voyage," 
 and the following prayer is attributed to the Queen on the setting 
 out of the expedition. 
 
 ' The readers of Percy's Eeliques — and who has not at some time or other 
 familiarized himself with that epoch-making book ? (an edition of the Percy Folio 
 has fortunately been lately published by Messrs. Hales and Furnivall more suited 
 to the critical wants of the age) — will not hafe forgotten the ballad of the 
 Winning of Gales (or Cadiz). The verses are rather doggrel, but are fresh and 
 accurate : the story of carrying off the two prize vessels is very circumstantially 
 detailed — 
 
 " The great St. Phillip, the pryde of the Spaniards, 
 Was burnt to the bottom, and sunk in the sea ; 
 But the St. Andrew, and eke the St. Matthew, 
 Wee took in fight manfullye and brought away." 
 
 The story of the number of gentlemen whom Essex knighted, and the rhyme in 
 consequence, is too hackneyed to need repetition. The spoil of " Cales" foimed 
 a pleasant theme for song and jest for many a year. Thus we find in Hall's 
 "Satire (Singer's ed., 1824, p. 65), when he is describing the gallant: 
 
 " Yet for all that, how stiffly struts he by, 
 All trapped in the new-found bravery ; 
 The nuns of new-won Cales his bonnet lent, 
 In lieu of their so kind a conquennent. 
 What needed he fetch that from farthest Spain 
 His grandam could have lent with lesser pain." 
 
 The plunder from this expedition seems to have been most ample, but many of 
 the adventurers who joined in it were discontented. From a recently-published 
 Calendar of State Papers we get some curious details. All who shared in the 
 voy»ge and contributed to the outlay seem to have looked upon it as a good 
 itivestmcnt. Thirty chests of armour were taken, of which twenty-three were 
 delivered at Plymouth to Sir Gilly Merrick. 
 
197 
 
 [Harl. MS. 6986, leaf 58.'] 
 
 The Quenes ma. prayer at the goinge owt of the 
 
 NAVYE. 1597. 
 
 god, all-maker, keeper, and guider, Jnurement* of thy 
 rare-seno, vnused and seeld-heard-of goodnes, powred in so 
 plentifull sort vpon us full oft ; breeds now this boldnes, to 
 craue with bowed knees, and heartes of humilitye, thy large 
 hande of helping power, to assist with wonder oure iust 
 cause, not founded on Prides-motion nor begun on Malice- 
 stock ; But, as thou best knowest, to whome nought is hid, 
 grounded on iust defence from wronges, hate, and bloody 
 desire of conquest. For scince, meanes thou hast imparted 
 to saue that thou hast giuen, by enioying such a people, as 
 scornes their bloodshed, where surelie ours is one : Fortifie 
 (deare God) such heartes in such sort, as their best part may 
 be worst, that to the truest part meant worst with least losse 
 to such a Nation, as despise their Hues for their Cuntrj'es 
 good. That all Forreine Landes may laud and admire the 
 Omnipotency of thy worke : a fact alone for thee only to 
 performe. So shall thy name be spread for wonders wrought, 
 and the faithfull encouraged, to repose in thy vnfellowed 
 grace: And wee that mynded nought but right, inchained 
 in thy bondes for perpetuall slauery, and Hue and dye the 
 sacrificers of oure soules for such obtayned fauoure. Warrant, 
 Deare Lorde, all this with thy command. 
 
 Amen. 
 
 The two commanders however quarrelled. They ravaged the 
 island, but did not succeed in capturing' the Spanish Plate Fleet : 
 two or three galleons, however, returning from the Havannah, 
 worth £100,000, were taken. 
 
 From this period is said to date the bitter animosity which 
 raged between Essex and Ealeigh during the few years of life 
 which remained to the former. It is sad to find the unfortunate 
 Earl's enemy gloating over his end by watching his execution 
 from an upper window in the Tower. There is an undoubted 
 allusion to Kaleigh in lines 189, 190, on p. 30 of this volume : 
 
 " But Rawe-bones layde on lies at large. 
 And howrelie sought to see his fall." 
 
 For two years the Earl seems to have remained inactive, 
 
 ^ This leaf has been numbered 35. ^ Experience. 
 
198 Emx and O'Neil. 
 
 struggling, no doubt, between the various factions, wbich at tliis 
 period harassed the Court. In 1599, however, he was, at his own 
 request, sent against the redoubted O'Neil, who had during the 
 previous year totally defeated Sir Henry Bagnal at the battle 
 of Blackwater (August 14th, 1598).' He landed at Dublin 
 April loth, 1599. The army placed under his command con- 
 sisted of 18,000 men, the best levies in the counties, and many 
 veterans from the Netherlands. 
 
 His commission gave him unprecedented authority: he had 
 the power of pardoning all crimes and treasons without ex- 
 ception ; and he might continue the war or bring it to an end at 
 his discretion. He was to direct his whole force as much as 
 possible against Ulster, as this was the great centre of the 
 rebellion. His first act, however, on arriving in Ireland, was to 
 disobey the commands of the Queen. He appointed the Earl of 
 Southampton commander of the cavalry, in direct opposition to 
 Elizabeth's express order, to whom Southampton had given 
 offence by a forbidden marriage. Nor did he remove him till 
 a peremptory mandate from the Queen convinced him that she 
 was no longer to be trifled with. 
 
 Essex did not proceed to Ulster. On the contrary, he marched 
 into Munster, reaching Limerick, and taking Cork and Waterford 
 on his way, returned to Dublin. He had only to boast of having 
 made himself master of two castles, and received the submission 
 of three native chieftains. 
 
 Three months had already been consumed, and his army was 
 greatly diminished by desertion, disease, and other casualties. 
 About the end of August, with only 3000 men out of the 18,000, 
 be met O'Neil on the banks of the Breuny ; but instead of fight- 
 ing, concluded an armistice with him, to be renewed every six 
 weeks during the winter, on condition that Essex should transmit 
 to the Queen O'Neil's demands, which were not likely to be very 
 acceptable to her. 
 
 In an interesting paper communicated by Mr. E. Shirley, of 
 Eatington, to Notes and Queries (4th S. viii. p. 34), the true 
 site of the celebrated interview between Essex and O'Neil on 
 Sept. 7th, 1599, is said to have been "at a ford (since bridged 
 over), called Anagh Clint, on the river -Lagon, where at present 
 passes the road between Carrick Macross and Ardee, on tlie 
 borders of the counties of Monoghan and Louth, and the provinces 
 of Ulster and Leinstcr." 
 
 I The Icttof of Essex announcing his appointment will be found in the Nutidi 
 Antiquie, vul. i. p. 245. He adds (with a "gnod mciuth-fillitig oath") ; "I will 
 heat Tyr-owen in the feilde ; for nothynge worthy hir majesties honor hathe yet 
 bocne atohievede." 
 
199 
 
 [Harleian MS. 1291, leaf 40 back.] 
 A BRIEF RELATION OF W/j2CH HAPPENED IN THE EXPEDITION 
 
 OF THE i,ord iiBVTenant generall of Ireland to- 
 wards y^ north parte of that kingdom from the 
 28 of August vntill the ix. of September, 1599. 
 
 No rebell in Ireland being able to contynew long wiVhout 
 holdin^e correspondency with Tyrone,^ and receyuing of ayde 
 from him ; I can not thynke they erre, who are of opinion 
 that he (before any other rebell) were by her ma!C«tis forces 
 first to be taught his obedience, which, no doubt, hath beene, 
 and is, the iudgmewt of the lord leintenatit generall of 
 Irelande. But that kingdome, being at his lordships first 
 landinge, either wholly entred into rebellion, or enclyninge 
 to favor them w/«'ch were allready in action, the northeren 
 frontiers being (besides their naturall sterillyty) soe wasted 
 by Tyrone, that they denyed meanes not to susteine mew 
 but catle : and w/»'ch is of as great consequence as any other 
 consideration, his lorrfs^eps army being then raw and vnex- 
 perienced: yt seemeth to my weake sence to haue beene 
 agreable to all poUicy, both of state and warr, to haue first 
 visited y® weaker rebells. Against whome his lordshiT^ 
 having performed so much as hath beene declared in my 
 former relations; and assured the south and west frontiers 
 of y° english pale, tieaf 4i.] by suificient garrisons : he de- 
 parted from Dublin towards castle Kerran, a village not 
 farr from Kelles in East meath, where he raustred 2700 
 foote and 300 horse, conducting them by the shortest way 
 towards Donnemaine in ferny, purposing to plant there a 
 garrisonwe, for that from that place might be oifended coot- 
 modiously, all the rebells bordering vpon Blackwater. In 
 his iorney his lordshiT^ visited Louth, which towne, althoughe 
 yt stande conveniently to receiue a garrisonwe, yet bycause 
 yt could not be fortefied without much chardge, tyme and 
 travell ; his lordship repayred [to] Ishleragh, a village neare 
 Louth, placing in the same, two dayes after, seaven companyes 
 of foote and a t.roope of horse. Whilst this worke was in 
 
 ' The struggle of Hugh O'Neil, surnamed Euadh or the Eed, forms the subject 
 of a curious poem in Hardiman's Irish Minstrelsy. The author supposes himself 
 at Eome, where he has a 'vision over the graves of the Celtic chieftain and his 
 brother. 
 
200 The Eai-l and Tyrone. 
 
 hand, Sir Willim Warren obteyned leaue of his \ord&hi^ 
 that he might treat with Tyrone (who laye then encamped 
 not aboue thre mylea from vs w«th ten thowsand foote and 
 a thowsand horse) for the deliuerye of capta/« John more, 
 taken prisoner not many daies before in ophaly.^ Tyrone, 
 professinge to Ser willim warren to haue had a longe tyme 
 a great desyre to make his submission, And entreated the 
 Xord lieuetewffH^ by him that he would be pleased to receiue 
 a message from him by Henry Agen, his constable, who, 
 being permitted to haue accesse vnto his lordship that night, 
 entreated that his lordship would vouchsafe to parly with 
 his master the next daye. To which the lord lieutenant 
 [ ] 2 [leaf 41 bkj and saide that he would in the mprning draw 
 forth into the field and be readdy by ten a clocke to parly 
 w?'th him, with his sword in hand. And that Tyrone might 
 know him, he comaunded to be shewed to Agen his horse 
 and armes, sayinge that he would send to Tyrone to know 
 the markes lykewise of his, to the end they should not 
 mistake one the other in the field, where sayd he to Agen, 
 " yf thy master haue any confidence, either in the iustnes of 
 his cause, or in the goodnes and nu?«ber of his me», or in 
 his owne vertu, of all which he vaynelye glorieth ; he will 
 meet me in the field so farr advanced before the head of his 
 " kerne ^ as my selfe shalbe separated from the front of my 
 troopes, where we will parlie in that fashion which best 
 becowimeth soldiers," which sayd, he licensed him to departe. 
 Early in the morninge the lorc^ lieutenant havinge ap- 
 pointed a sufficient number both of foote and horse, w^ich 
 he ordered in forme of a saltier or sanct Andrews cross, 
 placing vpon echo flancque {which served for winges) 100 
 hors, appoyntinge lykewise to follow the^ army not much 
 behynde the Rearewarde an entler grosse of 100 horse, that 
 out of the same might both be sent out seconds to any 
 distressed parte, and also that in a generall adversytye yt 
 might stand to make the retreat of the whole army : In 
 this order his lor&///p marched through an open champion, 
 
 ' " The lord deputy, the Earl of Sussex, distinguished himself hy the vigour 
 of his government, lie recovered from the native Irish the' two districts of 
 Ofally and Leix, which he moulded into counties, and named King's County and 
 Queen's County, in honour of Philip and Mary." — Lingard, v, 236, ed. 1854. 
 
 ^ There is a gap in tlie nmuuscript here. 
 
 ' An Irish foot solJicr, The word occurs in Shaksjierc. 
 
The Earl and Tyrone. 201 
 
 vntill he came w»thin a myle or thereaboutes of Tyrone's 
 camp, -wAjch (besydes tbe naturall strength thereof) was so 
 strongly fortefyed by arte and industrye as yt appeared to 
 them who had scene the woorkes, impossible to be neat 12.] 
 forced by twenty tymes our number. 
 
 "When the lor^^ lieutewant expected in this place some 
 howres in battell, a small number of Tyrones horsmen 
 shewed themselues a farr of from our troopes, one of w/«'ch 
 callinge to ours,"tould them that Tj'rone desyred much to 
 speake w«th his \ordsJii^ : And hvmbly entreated the same. 
 But that tyme and place he thought not fitt, for that their 
 parlye might be a cause to bringe the troopes to blowes, 
 wAjch he, studying by all meanes to prevent, had purposely 
 conteined himselfe, with his whole forces, wfthin the lystes 
 of his campe, wAiche so soone as the lord \\e\i.tenant vnder- 
 stoode (makinge his Reare the vantguard), he returned to 
 his campe in his first order. Tyrone beinge resolued not to 
 fight vpon equall grownde, And the lord liewienant not 
 having sufficient forces to attempt his campe, he resolued, by 
 the advice of his counsell, to returne backe into meath. 
 And directing his march accordingly, the next mornynge, 
 towards Nabber, where his lorifs/i/p had porposed to fortefye 
 and to plant a garrisonwe, he was overtaken by Hen : Agen, 
 who, having done his dutye to his lordshiv, he lett him 
 vnderstand (speaking so lowd as all might heare that wer6 
 present) That Tyrone desyred the queenes mercy, and in- 
 treated to speake with his YordshiT^ concerninge the manner 
 of making his submission : addinge, further, that Tyrone 
 attended his lordships at a forde called Bellaclyne, not halfe 
 a myle out of the waye of the army vpon the right hand 
 of the march, w/«'ch being instantly viewed, by such as his 
 lordskiTp sent thither, they fownde the place convenient, and 
 Tyrone attendinge there vnaccompanied ; to whome his 
 lordfshiTp hasted, but not before he had sett a guard vpon the 
 Baggage, and put both foote and horse in perfect order to 
 fight. Bycause that tymes of treaties and parlies haue ever 
 beene held for moste suspected. 
 
 neat 42 bk] Before the lord lieutenant was fully ary ved at the 
 foarde, Tyrone tooke of his hatt, and enclyninge his body, 
 did his duty vnto his lordshiTp : with, very hvmble ceremony, 
 contynewynge the same observancy the whole tyme of the 
 parlye. It was first emparled betweene themselues in 
 
202 The Irish and the Spaniards. 
 
 pryvate, and then before six on either partye. With the 
 lord YxQViienant were the earle of Southampton, S/r Georg 
 Bourchier, Sir warham St, leger, Str Henry Danuers, ^in 
 willim Constable, S«r wiHim warren. On Tyrones parte 
 were Cormoc mac Baron, mac Guinies, Evard mac Cowleye ; 
 mac Guyre, Henry ovengton, and Richard owen ; where 
 yt was concluded that there should be a cessation from armes 
 for six weekes, And the warr to be renewed at the lor^ 
 lieutewaw^ pleasure, gevinge 14 dayes waminge. It was 
 further agreed, That yt should be lawfull for all them that 
 were now in action, to participate of the benefyte of this 
 cessation, yfhich. if any refused or neclected, they should be 
 lefte by Tyrone and all his adhearents, to be prosecuted by 
 her majesties army, for performance of wA/ch agreement the 
 lor^ lieutenawt bownd him selfe in the honor of his woorde. 
 And Tyrone tyed him selfe by oath taken the next daye 
 followinge by 4 comyssioners, S/r warham sen leger, S/r 
 willim Constable, S«r willim warren, and Henry wootton,' 
 secretary to the lori^ lieutewaw^, of whome he is as worthely 
 esteemed for his rare quallities as he is deservedly loved of 
 all others for his vertues, And therefore thought the onely 
 man in the armye fittest among the rest of the comissioners, 
 that by the weight of his iudgment might be counterpoyzed 
 the sharpnes of Hen: ovengtons witt, Tyrones cheefest 
 counsellor. There were sent with the commissioners neat 43j 
 for their guarde certeine troopes of horse, with whome 
 remayned as pledge vntill the returne of the co???missioners 
 Evard mac Cowlye, Hen: Agen, and Shane mac Donnell. 
 Henry ovengton (without whome Tyrone deliberateth of no 
 matter of moment) was nomj^nated for the fowreth pledge; 
 but Tyrone intreated the commissioners that they would rest 
 satisfied with the others, and that ovengton myght remayne 
 w»th him selfe. 
 
 If there be either fayth in Tyrone, or truth in them that 
 are moste of his counsell, he desyreth nothing more then 
 peace, -which, at this tyme had beene concluded ; but that he 
 resteth bownde to the Spaniarde by oathe, to contynew in 
 armes, yf the Spaniard shall lande such forces^ in England 
 
 ' The celebrated Provost of Eton. See subsequent remarks upon him and his 
 connexion with Henry CufFe, the Earl's Secretary. 
 
 _ 2 Throughout the struggles of O'Neil considerable countenance had been lent 
 him by Spain. It is to the assistance of this country, together with that of 
 France, that the old Irish national songs, in the native language, always point. 
 
Tanistry. 203 
 
 as might possesse and holde any place in that kingdome, 
 ythich ■ not succeedinge by the end of this moneth he hath 
 faythfuUy proraysed to the lord Imxxienant to submitt him- 
 selfe to the queenes mercy. Of the pej"formanc.e of w/zzch 
 promisse there is more hope for some important reasons, 
 then for any truth wAz'ch bath beene fownd in him selfe. 
 ffor first his yeares (w^2ch are drawinge to threescore) may 
 moove him to desyre quiet, next, the establishment of his 
 greatnes in his posterytye, vrhich he can not doe"' by the 
 custome of Tamistrye ' if he should dye and leaue his children 
 yonge. Thirdly, the feare -which he may conceiue of her 
 maz'esties power, if she shall once resolue to presse him in 
 dyvers partes at the same instant. And, lastly, a desyre 
 w/nch he may haue to preserue that infinite masse of wealthe 
 ■viMah. he hath by iniustice and rapine heaped togeather, 
 w/i2ch els wilbe in shorte tyme exhausted, by the maynteyn- 
 inge of his Bonaghs^ [leaf 4s bkj and susteyninge them whom 
 he hath robbed. 
 
 So soone as this conclusion was made w/th Tyrone, the 
 lord lieuetenant dissolued his army, and havinge lodged in 
 such garrisons as served beste to preserue the subiect, he 
 retyred himselfe to Droghedagh, from whence, after some 
 few dayes, he returned to Dublin. 
 
 ' Or Tanistry. Spenser sliall explain this word for us : 
 
 " Endon. What is this which you call Tanist and Tanistry ? They be names 
 and termea never heard of nor knowne to us. 
 
 Nen. It is a custome amongst all the Irish that presently after the death of 
 any of their chiefe Lords or Captaines, they doe presently assemble themselves to 
 a place generally appointed and knowne unto them to choose another in his steed, 
 where they doe nominate and elect for the most part, not the eldest sonne, nor 
 any of the children of the Lord deceased, but the next to him of blood, that is 
 the eldest and worthiest, as commonly the next brother unto him, if he have 
 any, or the next cousin, or so forth, as any is elder in that kinred or sept, and 
 then next to him doe they choose the next of the blood to be Tanist, who shall 
 next succeed him in the said Captaincy, if he live thereunto." — View of the 
 State of Ireland, Spenser's "Works, Todd's edition, p. 505. 
 
 * Cavalry soldiers. There was also a bonaughty, which was a tax levied on 
 the people to support the bonaughts. 
 
204 
 
 Essex's Knights. 
 
 [Ashraole MS. 219, fol. 133.] ' 
 
 Kniohtes made is Erland 1599 by the E. essex. 
 
 The Erel of vutland, mentioned in Ash. 
 
 MS. 862, art. 44. 
 The Erell of Kildare. 
 The Lord Cromwell, Ash. MS. 862, 
 
 art. 44. 
 The Lord Gray. 
 The Lord Muimtigell, see Ash. MS. 
 
 862, art. 44. 
 Sr Robart Vernome, do. 
 Sr Georg Mimners. 
 Sr Thomas Weste, do. 
 Sr Henry Carey. 
 Sr Jaslen peroey.^ 
 Sr Carewe Lennalls. 
 Sr wilHam godolphin. 
 Sr will««m (Jonstable, do. 
 Sr wilh'am Courtney. 
 Sr Arter Champnon. 
 Sr Jhon Davyes, do. 
 Sr Jhon poUey. 
 Sr fraunces Lacon. 
 Sr huet osborne. 
 Sr Thomas Moston. 
 Sr Thomas Tnsborowe. 
 Sr Fraunces Knight. 
 Sr Fraunces hartley. 
 Sr Georg thornton. 
 Sr Terence odersey. 
 Sr fraunces deverox. 
 Sr Eicbard Masterson. 
 Sr Eobart Lasket. 
 
 Sr Robart Cofistabell. 
 
 Sr Edward Warren. 
 
 Sr Cuthberte halsey, 31. (After this 
 
 name the knights aie numbered.) 
 Sr heugh oconardon, 32. 
 Sr Jhon Maholand, 33. 
 Sr Make Swind'm, 34. 
 Sr Thomas baldillon, 35. 
 Sr Thomas burke, 36. 
 Sr WilW«m warren, 37. 
 Sr henry lindley, 38. 
 Sr wilhffm gaskon, 39. 
 Sr thoraas oflos, 40. 
 Sr Jhon Wagon, 41. 
 Sr Wilh'am Louelesse, 42. 
 Sr Jhon harington, 43. 
 Sr Edward blunt, 44. 
 Sr Eobarte Digbey, 45. 
 Sr Henry goddard, 46. 
 Sr Edward Essex, 47. 
 Sr willmm Cornwallis, 48. 
 Sr wilb'am Eeed, 49. 
 Sr Edward morgan, 50. 
 Sr Henry Carewe, 51. 
 Sr Richard worsand, 52. 
 Sr Edward Michelborn, 53. Ash. 862. 
 Sr Jhon haidon, 54. 
 Sr fraunces micrek, 55. 
 Sr Jhon Thrastes, o6. 
 Sr georg lester, 67. 
 Sr Charells willmote, 58, 
 
 What could have been the motives of Essex for this extra- 
 ordinary conduct, it is not easy to discover. By his many 
 gallant actions we can easily see that he was no coward. The 
 ballad-writer speaks (p. 29, line 167) of a plot, and it is 
 generally believed that the unfortunate Earl hurried back, divining 
 but too surely that his enemies were busy against him during 
 
 ' The MS. throughout is in Forman's handwriting. 
 
 ' Is this nanro the same as Jozaphell I'earsey in Ash. MS. 862 ? 
 
Misex apjjears at Court. 205 
 
 his absence. Great expectations had been formed of this 
 campaign, but they were to be rudely dashed to the ground. 
 Shakespere only uttered the common opinion when he spoke of 
 (Henry V". act v. Prologue, Chorus) — 
 
 " the general of our gracious empress, 
 
 (As in good time he may), from Ireland coming, 
 Bringing rebellion broached on bis sword." 
 
 The " Synon " who " subtellie did charme " was, no doubt, Cecil, 
 whom Essex repeatedly mentioned as one of his bitterest enemies.^ 
 He now conceived the desperate design of suddenly appearing 
 before the Queen, and effecting a reconciliation in person. He 
 abruptly presented himself at Nonsuch on the 28th <^ September, 
 soon after she had risen, and was at first favourably received, 
 and also at an audience accorded to him subsequently on the 
 same day ; but he was shortly after delivered over to the Lord 
 -Keeper to be in his custody. Meanwhile the public voice as- 
 serted itself loudly in favour of Essex. With the people he was 
 
 1 The allusion is of course to Virgil, ^neid II. At some particular period 
 of his disfavour, Essex had broken out into the following lines, which are 
 preserved in the Asbmolean MS. 781. They have been already printed in 
 Knight's London, vol. ii. p. 159. 
 
 " Happy were he ootild [he] finish forth his fate 
 
 In some unhaunted desert, moste obscure 
 
 From all societies, from love and hate 
 
 Of wordly folkes : then might he sleepe secure : 
 
 Then wake againe, and give God praise. 
 
 Content with hippes and bawes and bramble berrie, 
 
 In contemplation spending all his dayes ; 
 
 And change of holy thoughts to make him mcrrie. 
 
 Where when he dyes his tombe may be a bush. 
 
 Where harmeless Eobin dwells with gentle Thrush." 
 From the same MS. I also extract the following, " Annother of his to her Maiis 
 upon his commaund to goe for Ireland : " 
 
 " From a minde delightinge in sorrowe, from spirits wasted with passion, fro«( 
 a harte torne in peeoes with care and greefe and travell, from a man that bateth 
 himself and all thinges that keepe him aliue, what seruice can yor matie expect 
 since my service paste deserves noe more then banishment and proscription into 
 the cursedest of all countreyes ; nay, nay, it is your Rebells pride and success 
 that must give me leave to Ransome my life out of that hatefuU prison of my 
 loathed bodie, which if it happen soe yor maUe shall have not cause to mislike 
 the fashion of my death, since the course of my life would never please you. 
 
 "Tor maties exiled servant, 
 
 " Eo. -Essex." 
 Just at the period, when he might have commenced a new lease of favour with 
 offended majesty, appeared the book of Dr. Hayward— " The first part of the 
 Life and Eaigne of King Henrie the IIII., extending to the first yeare of his 
 raigne." Here the Queen, fi-om some cause or other, imagined that she traced 
 allusions to herself in the discussions upon the misgovernment of Eichard II. ; 
 and in the usurpation of Henry she saw a representation of the aspirations of Essex. 
 The unfortunate author, on these frivolous grounds, was committed to prison. 
 
 III. a 
 
206 He marches into the City. 
 
 a great favourite, as many lines in the' accompanying ballads will 
 amply testify. He had always opposed religious persecutions, 
 and thus had gained friends both among Puritans and Eoman 
 Catholics: he had also many staunch adherents among the 
 military. On the 5th of June, 1600, Essex was examined 
 before the Council, and ordered to keep himself to his own house. 
 He had been in the custody of Lord Keeper Egerton since the 
 preceding October. Upon the conclusion of this commission, 
 Elizabeth deprived him of every office which he held by patent, 
 and ordered him to remain a prisoner in his own house during 
 her pleasure. He was however, at the end of three months, 
 released from custody, but forbidden to present himself at Court 
 without leave. Soon after, a valuable patent which he held 
 expired; but Elizabeth refused to renew it, saying, "that in order 
 to manage an ungovernable beast, he must be stinted in his 
 provender." 
 
 The repeated efforts of Essex to gain the Queen's favour having 
 been as repeatedly repulsed, made him more desperate. He 
 entered into negociations with James of Scotland, representing 
 that Cecil and his partisans were aiming at excluding that prince 
 from the succession, and meditated bestowing the crown on the 
 Infanta. These eccentric proceedings gradually oozed out : 
 accordingly Sir Thomas Egerton, Henry Somerset, Earl of 
 Worcester, Sir William Knollys, and Sir John Popham were 
 sent by the Queen to see what he was doing, and to summon 
 him to appear before the Council. The scene of their arrival at 
 the house of Essex presented all . the characteristics of a riot. 
 A large mob had collected. When Egerton desired Essex to 
 privately explain his grievances, several voices exclaimed : 
 " They abuse you, my Lord. They are undoing you. You lose 
 your time." It was in vain that Elizabeth's emissary ordered 
 every man to lay aside his aims in the Queen's name. The angry 
 crowd, of whom Essex had long been the darling, shouted, " Kill 
 them, keep them for pledges, throw the Great Seal out of the 
 window." Finally they were locked up in a room, and detained 
 as prisoners. 
 
 On Sunday, February 8th, 1601, Essex, pretending that his life 
 was in danger, marched into the City, leaving the lords in the 
 care of Sir John Davyes, Francis Tresham — of whom we shall find 
 mention in the Gunpowder Plot conspiracy — and Owen Salisbury ; 
 but they were released in a few hours, and before Essex could 
 return. 
 
 The infatuated favouiite rushed" forward, exclaiming, "For 
 the Queen 1 for the Queen ! a plot is laid against my life." Not 
 a citizen, however, joined him : the astonished" crowd simply 
 
His Trial. 207 
 
 looked on in amazement, exclaiming, " God bless your honour ! " 
 After passing through Ludgate and Cheapside, Essex, at a loss 
 what step to take, entered the house of a supposed friend, then 
 one of the sheriffs, who, " seeing the multitude, avoided himself 
 out at a back door, when presently, in divers parts of the city, 
 Essex was proclaimed a traitor, to the no less grief of the citizens 
 than fear of his followers." 
 
 Many of his friends now forsook him, and about two o'clock 
 in the afternoon he came to Gracechurch Street, and attempted 
 to make a stand there ; but although the Mayor and others were 
 at the end of the street, no one arrested him. He retired again 
 to St. Paul's, intending to pass by Ludgate the same way that 
 he came ; but his progress was impeded by a barricade of empty 
 carts, and some companies of troops hastily got together by the 
 Bishop of London. The Earl was forced back, having been twice 
 shot through the hat. Sir Christoper Blount was taken prisoner, 
 and another associate named Tracy slain. Essex then continued 
 his retreat, and in an agony of thirst desired drink of some of 
 the citizens, which was given him. At Queenhithe he took boat, 
 and succeeded in reaching his house in the Strand, which he 
 fortified, intending to die in its defence. The place was, how- 
 evei", soon stormed, and its inmates compelled to surrender. One 
 of his companions, Captain Owen Salisbury, stood bareheaded 
 at an open window, eager to rush upon hi/ fate. A bullet from 
 some one in the street struck him in the side of the head. " Oh ! 
 that thou hadst been so much my friend as to have shot a little 
 lower!" he exclaimed. The wound, however, proved fatal, for 
 he died on the following morning. By ten o'clock that evening 
 Essex had surrendered, and was first conveyed to Lambeth, 
 and subsequently to the Tower. On the 19th of February he 
 and Southampton were arraigned before Lord Buckhurst, as Lord 
 Steward, and twenty-five other peers. The indictment charged 
 himj among a variety of treasonable acts, with having en- 
 deavoured to raise himself to the royal dignity. The crown 
 lawyers were Yelverton, Coke, and Bacon. We cannot here 
 enter into the question how far the latter can be justly charged 
 with having betrayed his friend. The matter has certainly as- 
 sumed a new phase since the publication of Mr. Hepworth 
 Dixon's book ; and Mr. Spedding also considers that Bacon was 
 not guilty of treachery towards Essex (Spedding's Bacon, vol. iii. 
 pp. 136-138). 
 
 The Earl could only stoutly deny that he had nourished any 
 idea of injuring the Queen, although his step-father, Sir Chris- 
 topher Bloimt, confessed at his execution, a few days later, that 
 the conspirators, rather than fail in their ends, were prepared to 
 
 ft 2 
 
208 The Sentence. 
 
 have "drawn blood even from herself." He affirmed that he 
 had taken up arms solely in defence of his own life, which was 
 threatened by Lord Cobham and Sir W. Raleigh. The_ peers 
 declared Essex and his companion Southampton to be guilty of 
 high treason. The latter earl — who has earned the gratitude of 
 posterity by his patronage of Shakspere — remained in the Tower 
 till the next reign, when he was released and restored to his 
 title and estates.' Essex was privately executed in an inner 
 court of the Tower. The circumstances of his death, and the 
 threefold stroke of the headsman, as recorded in Williams's 
 ballad, are circumstantially correct (p. 33, line 274); but the 
 reader who cares to have a more minute account of the event 
 will find it amply described in the two following narrations, 
 now first published. 
 
 TLe first, a touching "Account of the Death of Essex," 
 from the Memories of Mr. Thomas Cook and Mr. Kidman, is 
 taken from the Cambridge University MS. Kk, 1, 3 : — ■ 
 
 ^w] Eri?" The 25'" of februarie 1600 ; ^ beinge Ash Wedens- 
 
 F]eti™'i6oo Asie, aboute 8^" of the clocke in the morninge, was 
 in] the towec. ^t^q sentence of death executed against the Erie 
 of Essex wj'thin the Tower of London ; where a scaffolde 
 beinge set vp in the middest of the courte, & neare vnto it 
 a fourme placed, where-onne satte the Earls of Cumberland 
 & Hartford ; the Lo'* Viscounte Byndon ; Lo* Thomas 
 Haward then Lord Constable of the tower ; Lo'^ Darcey ; & 
 Lo* Compton ; Sir Jhon Peyton Leiue tewnant of the towne ; 
 With about 16'° partizens of the guarde, was sent to bring 
 the earle prisoner ; whoe camme in a gowne of wrought veluet, 
 a satten suite, & felte hatte all blacke ; and a litell ruffe band 
 about his falling band ; and ary vinge onne the scaffold w?th 
 3"^ chapleines Jy Mountford, D"" Barlowe, and M"^ Asheton, 
 Hee vailed his hatte, and makeinge reverence to the Lordes, 
 laied it awaie, and spoake to this effects ; " My Lordes, and 
 yee my christian bretheren, whoe are to bee witnesses of this 
 my iuste punnishment, (at theis wordes and all the while 
 after liftinge vp his eyes moste intentiuelie to heauen), I 
 confesse to the glorie of god, that I am a moste wretched 
 sinner, and that my sinnes are moe in number, then the 
 haires of my heade; that I haue bestowed my youth in 
 wantonnes, Iuste, and vncleannes ; and that I haue beene 
 puffed vp w«th pride, vanitie and loue of this worlds pleasure; 
 
 ' See the fine lines addressed by Samuel Daniel to Southampton. 
 '^ Old style: 1601 new. 
 
The Ead's Prayer. 209 
 
 and that notwithstanding diuera good motons inspired into 
 mee from the spirit of god; The good which. I would I 
 have not donne ; and the evill -which. I woulde not, that haue 
 I donne; for all wA«ch I humblie beseeche my saviour 
 Christe to bee mediator to the eternall ma;estie for my 
 pardon ; especiallie for this my laste sinne, this greate, this 
 bloudie, this cryinge, this infectous sinne, whereby so manie 
 for love to mee, haue bene drawne to offend god, to offend 
 their sovereigne, and to offende the worlde; I beseech god 
 to forgiue it vs, and to forgeue it mee the moste wretched 
 of all; I beseeche her ma^'estie & the state, and Ministers 
 thereof; to forgeue it vs; and I beseache god to send her 
 ma/estie a prosperous reigne, & a longe, if it bee his will ; 
 
 Lord graunte her a wise & an vnderstanding hearte ; 
 Lord blesse her & the Nobles, and Mynisters of the church 
 & of the state ; And I beseeche youe and the world, to 
 houlde a charitable opinion of mee, for my intention to her- 
 wards, whose death I protest I never meante, nor violence to 
 her person ; Allso I desire all the world to forgiue mee, even 
 as I doe freelie and from my harte forgeue all the world : 
 
 1 was never I thanke god Atheiste to denie the power & 
 omnipotencie of god; never Papiste trusting in my owne 
 meritts, but hope for my saluati'on, from god onelie, by the 
 mercie & meritts of my saviour Jesus : This faith was T 
 brought vp in, and herein am nowe readie to die ; beseech- 
 inge yee all to ioyne your soules with mee in praier, that 
 my soule maie bee lifted vp by faith aboue all earthlie things 
 in my praier, for nowe I will giue my selfe to my private 
 praier ; yet for that I beseeche youe to ioyne w«th mee ; I 
 will speake that youe maie heare;" Then putting of his 
 gowne & ruffe, and presenting himselfe before the blocke, 
 hee was, as it seemed, by one of the chapleines incouraged 
 against feare or death; to whome hee aunsweared, that 
 " haveing byne diuers times in places of daunger, yet where 
 death was neither so present nor certeyne, hee had fealte the 
 weakenes of flesh, and therfore desired , god nowe,_ in this 
 greate conflicte, to strengthen him ; " and so preparing him- 
 selfe to kneele downe, asked for the execut«bner, whoe onne 
 his knees all-so asked him pardon, to whome hee said, "thou 
 art welcome to mee, I forgeue thee ; thoue art a minister of 
 Justice : " and soe with like fixed eyes on heaven and w«th 
 long & passionate pawscs in his speachc; begannc his praier; 
 
210 What Mr. CooJce remembered. 
 
 " Oh God creator'of a» things, and Judge of all men, thoue 
 haste let mee knowe by warrante out of thie word, that 
 Satan is then moste buisie, when our ende is neareste ; and 
 that sathan beinge resisted will flie; I humblie beseech 
 thee to assiste mee, in this my laste combate, and sithence 
 thou accepteste even of all our desires, as of actes, accepte 
 of my desire to resiste him even as of true resista^mce and 
 perfects by thie grace, what thou seeste in my flesh to bee 
 fraile & weake ; giue mee patience to beare, as beco?wmethe 
 mee, this iuste punnishment inflicted onne mee, by so honor- 
 able a tryall: graunte mee the inward comforte of thie 
 spirit; let thie spirit scale vnto my soule an assurance of 
 thie mercies: lifte my soule aboue all earthlie cogitatons, 
 and when my life & bodie shall parte, sende thie blessed 
 Angells, w/j«ch maie receave my soule, & convey it to thie 
 ioyes in heaven." Then sayinge the Lords praier, (hee iterated 
 this petition, 'Lord Jesus forgeue vs our trespasses,') and 
 the creede ; hee added, " Lord Jesu receaue my soule, into 
 thie hands Lord I commend my spirit ; " And so desir- 
 inge to bee infourmed of what was fitte for him to doe, for 
 desposinge him selfe fittlie to the blocke, (sayinge 'hee would 
 onelie stretch out his armes thus,' spreading them wide out,) 
 his doublet taken of, in a scarlet wascoate, hee was willed 
 by one of the doctors, to sale the beginninge of the 51^' 
 psalme ; whereof when hee had said 2 verses, the executioner 
 beinge then readie, hee bowed towards the blocke, and saide : 
 "In humilitie and obedience to thie commaundment, in 
 obedience to thine ordinaunce, to thie good pleasure God, 
 I prostrate my selfe to my deserued punishment ; " so lyinge 
 flatte a-longe onne the hordes, his armes streached out, hee 
 saide, "Lord haue mercie vpon mee thie prostrate servaMnt:" 
 and then layinge downe his heade and fittinge it on the 
 blocke, w'/th theis laste wordes in his mouth, " Lord Jesu 
 receaue my soule ; " in the middeste of that sentence, yt was 
 severed by the axe from his corps, at S^^ blowes, but the 
 1'^'° deadlie and absolutelie depriveinge sense and motion. 
 All this was M. Thomas Cooks meraorie ; a few other wordes 
 uttered by the said Erie, M'' Kidman remembered; & M"^ 
 Cooke to when hee heard them ; viz. " I am by nature feare- 
 full of death as other men, and therfore if I beare it 
 pacientlie and constantlie as a christian oughte to doe, I 
 beseech e youe ascribe the glorie to god that dooth strengthen 
 me by his spirit, and not to mee." 
 
Essex the Night before his Death. 211 
 
 The following is another MS. account of the death of the Earl 
 of Essex: — 
 
 [MS. R. 5. 12,- Trin. Coll. Carab. Baiter's copy, MS. : Mm. i. 44, fol. 81, 
 Cambridge Fniv. Library.] 
 
 The Earle of Essex sufFred one Ashwednesday, the 25"^ of 
 Februarie 1600 within the tower of London, betweene 7: & 
 8: of the clocke in the morninge. The maner of his death, 
 & the whole same of such woords, as hee did speek to 
 the guard ouer night before he died, & such woords as he 
 did deliver from his Chamber to the scaffold & also uppon 
 the scaffold, to the hower of his death. 
 
 One tuesdaie at night about eleven of the clocke he 
 opened the casmewt of his windowe, & spake to the guard ; 
 " My good Frends praie for me & to-morrowe I shall leave 
 an example behind, mee, that you shall remember, & you 
 shall see a stronge god & a weak man. I haue not anie 
 thinge to give you, if I had, T would give it to you, but 
 I haue nothing left, but that I must paie unto the Queen 
 to-morrowe." In the morninge he was brought out by the 
 liftenant w^2ch attended one him, w«th 3 : Divines exhortinge 
 him, & at his cominge foorth of his chamber, he called 
 verie hartelie to god, that he would give him strength & 
 patience to the end, & all the waie as he came from the 
 chamber to the scaffold he praied, sainge, "0 lord\give me 
 true Repentance & true patience, & true humilitie." Hee 
 entreated those that went w«th him to praie for him, sainge, 
 " god be mercifuU to mee the most wretched sinwer one the 
 earth." Then he turned him to the nobellmen, that satt one 
 the scaffold, & put of his Hatt, and said, "E,*: Hon*'® hords, 
 & right wor": & Christian Bretheren, that come hither to 
 bee a witness of my death, I doe confesse before god & 
 you all, that I have been a most miserabell & wretched 
 sinner, & a notorious wretch, & that the sines of my youth 
 have beene more then the haires of my head, for I have 
 beene given to pride & to lust, vaine glory, & divers 
 other greivous sines, accordinge to the fashion of this world, 
 wherein I have most greiuously offended my God, & there- 
 fore o Lord my God forgive mee my sines & especiallie this 
 last & bloudie fact this deadlie sine -which. I have comitted 
 & was ledd into, & also manie men have Yentured for 
 the love of mee both their lives, goodes & soules, yfhich. 
 
212 Hk Prayer. 
 
 is as great to raee as maie bee. Lo : Jesue forgive mee & 
 them, and for this bloudie fact. I have received an Hon^'^ : 
 triall and am iustlie condemned, protestinge on ray salvacon 
 before God, that I never intended to hurt the person of her 
 Ma*": my Soveraigne, & wheras I was condemned for my 
 Religion, I protest before God and you all as I hope to [be] 
 saved, I neuer was Atheist nor Papist, for I doe defie them 
 bofh with all my hart, nor was I euer anie other, then a 
 true Christian by profession, for I never denied the power 
 of my God, nor I neuer beleived to be iustified bye workes : 
 but the Religion which I professe is, that I shall be re- 
 deemed by the death & passion of Jesus Christ crucifyed 
 for mie sines, in which profession I have all waies beene 
 brought upp from my youth hitherto, & nowe bye Gods 
 grace will die in the same, desireinge the God of Heauen, for 
 Ohrists sake, not to suffer the flesh to have anie power oucr 
 mee, but send thy holie Angell to bee neere mee." Then 
 liftinge upp his hands & eies to Heaven, he entreated the Lds : 
 & his Christian Bretheren to assist him in praier, as Christ 
 himselfe taught us, entretinge them not with eies & lipps 
 onlie, but to lifte upp y' harts & mindes also with him to 
 the Lord alsoe for him. Then he invocated one God zealous- 
 lye, & praied for the good estate of her ma"^^ : most Royall 
 person ferventlie, for the longe continuance of her life & 
 Raigne amongst us. He praied also for the whole estate 
 of the nobillitie, & alsoe for the comonaltie. Then he 
 said, "Right Hon'''®: Right wo^: and Christian Brethren, I 
 will kneele down to praier & will praie aloud, because you 
 shall hear mee what I saie, intreatinge you to praie w«th 
 mee & for mee." Then he kneeled downe before the Blocke, 
 & entreated God to forgive him all his sins, & especiallie 
 this last sin, this crynge sin, & most greivos sin, most 
 humblie beseechinge her Ma"®: to forgive & pardon him. 
 Alsoe the like he desired of all Estates whatsoever. Then 
 hee repeated the Lords Praier, & when he came to, "As we 
 forgive them y' trespasses against us," he first reapeted it 
 as it was written, & then againe over thus, "as we forgive 
 them all y' trespasses against us," & so to the ende of the 
 Lords Praier. Then one of the Divines putt him in minde 
 to saie the Beleife, w/»'ch ho did, the Doctor sainge it softlie 
 before him. Then hec boingc rcmcnibred by the Divines to 
 forgive and praie for his onemies; he praied for them all 
 
His Death. 213 
 
 & desired God to forgive them freelie, as hee did, sainge, 
 "for that they beare the Image of Grod, as well as my selfe." 
 Then he called for the Excecutioner, who came one the 
 Scaffold to him, & there besought him to forgive him, and 
 hee looked upon him & said, "god forgive thee, for I doe, 
 thou art the minister of true iustice. God thou knowest, 
 I have been in danger of deathe manie times in beinge 
 fitinge against mie enemies, and I never was afraide of 
 death, wherefore I praie thee God, give mee true patience, 
 & trulie to be humbled to the end." 
 
 Then he asked the Executioner, what he must doe and 
 howe hee must lie, the w/«ch he did as he was told. Then 
 hee said, " I praie you praie for mee, & when you shall see 
 mee strech foorth my Arms, & that mie necke bee laide on 
 the blocke, & the stroake redie to be given, that it would 
 please God to send his holie Angell to carrie my Soule upp 
 presentlie before the mercie seate of the Everlastinge god." 
 Then he kneleed downe & liftinge upp his Eies devoutly 
 to Heauen, he thus said, " Lo : God, as one unto thine Altar 
 doe I come, offeringe my bodie & bloud as a sacrifice." Then 
 he laide his necke one the Blocke, & the coUer of his 
 Doublet did hinder the Execution, because it did cover his 
 necke. Then himselfe did saie, "my Doublet dothe hinder 
 thee, dothe it not," & wzth that he rose upp again & pulled it 
 of, sainge, "what I must doe, I will doe," & then givinge 
 his Bodie to thee Blocke againe & spreadinge his Armes 
 abroad, & streatchinge his bodie at large, he repeated 
 these his last woords, his necke beinge upon the Blocke, 
 & bid the Executioner strike home, & said, "Lo: Jesu 
 come Lo: Jesu, receive my soule," and soe at three strokes 
 hee stroke of his Head, & when his head was off _ & in 
 the Executioners hand, his Eyes did open' & shut, as in the 
 time of his praier ; his bodie, feete, Armes, Leggs, Armes, 
 nor fingers never stirred, neither anie part of him noe more 
 then a Stone, neither at the first nor at the thirde stroke. 
 
 Finis. 
 
 The Execucon' of the somtime good Earle of Essex (MS. 
 Coll. Trin. Cant. 2, 5, 12). 
 
214 Was he a mere Courtier ? 
 
 Williams, in his ballad, is evidently so great an admirer o£ 
 Essex that he is unwilling to make mention of his delinquencies 
 in Ireland, or of his subsequent rash enterprise against the Queen. 
 It is quite possible that he may have been an old soldier -who 
 served under Essex : there are many minute points of detail in 
 the poem which seem to show a personal experience of the 
 campaigns of the ill-fated general. Thus he praises him for his 
 anxiety in secuiing the soldiers' pay. 
 
 Most of the ballads here printed will probably be censured 
 by the reader as dull and tedious : he will however find ample 
 proof of the great popularity which Essex enjoyed among all 
 classes, owing to his real or affected sympathy with the doctrines 
 of universal toleration. 
 
 Like all fashionable favourites, he was destined to have his 
 epoch, "borne like bubbles onward," and among other proofs we 
 find the following dance named from him (Harleian MS. 367, 
 leaf 178) : 
 
 "The Earleof Essex. 
 " A double forward, and a single backe, 4 times ; then to singles, 
 sides, with a double forward and a double backe ; all over againe, 
 and so end." 
 
 Let it remind the reader of the bright time of the Earl, his 
 joyous days, his gallant show at Court, before the poems speak 
 of his 'hard waie' to the grave and death. That there must 
 have been something more in the man than mere vapouring 
 bravado and the insane flourishes of a swash-buckler, we may 
 conclude from his expedition to Cadiz, even if we do not go 
 quite so far as the words of Hallam, who speaks of that "too 
 nojile and high-minded spirit, so ill-fitted for a servile and 
 
 dissembling Court; the consistent friend of 
 
 religious liberty, whether the Catholic or the Puritan were to 
 enjoy it" (Hallam's Constitutional History, i. p. 167). Sir Henry 
 Wotton, who had been " taken into a serviceable friendship with 
 the Earl of Essex, did personally attend his Concels and Imploy- 
 raents in Two Voyages at Sea against the Spaniard, and also in 
 that (which was the Earl's last into Ireland)," and had been 
 obliged also to leave the kingdom at the time of the disgrace 
 and execution of his patron, has -left us a curious parallel be- 
 tween Essex and George Yilliers, Duke of Buckingham, in 
 which bespeaks thus of the former: "In the Earl we have two 
 examples of his severity, the one in the Island Voyage, where 
 he threw a Souldier with his own hands out of a ship ; the 
 other in Ireland, where he decimated certain troops that ran 
 away, renewing a peece of the Eoman Discipline." 
 
Some Books on Essex. 215 
 
 This last act of seventy corroborates tbe account of the strict 
 regime which he exercised over his soldiers, as iinentioned in the 
 ballad composed by liichard Williams. 
 
 The body of Essex was buried in St. Peter's Chapel in the Tower. 
 He left three legitimate children — 1st, the great Parliamentary 
 general, Eobert Devereux, the third Earl of Essex, bom in 1592, 
 restored in blood and honours in 1603, who died in 164:6 with- 
 out issue, when the earldom became extinct ; 2nd, Frances, who 
 married first the Earl of Hertford, and afterwards the Duke of 
 Son'ierset; 3rd, Dorothy, who married Sir Henry Shirley, and 
 then William Stafford, of Blatherwyck, in Northamptonshire.' 
 
 Lowndes gives the following list of books, etc., on and by 
 Essex : — 
 
 A Declaration of the Practises and Treasons attempted and committed by 
 Robert late Earle of Essex, and his Complices. Lend. 1601. Supposed to 
 have been drawn up by Sir Francis Bacon. 
 
 An Apologia of the Earle of Essex ; against those which jealously and mali- 
 ciously tax him to be the Hinderer of the Peace and Quiet of his Country. 
 Penned by himself in Anno 1598. Lend. 1603. 4to. Published by Lord Bacon. 
 Eeprinted under the title of the Earl of Essex's Vindication of the War with 
 Spain in an Apology to Mr. Anthony Bacon, penn'd Anno 1598. London, 
 1729. 8yo. 
 
 Honors Fame, or the Life and Death of the Earle of Essex. 1604. 4to. 
 
 Histoire de la Vie et Mort du Comte d'Essex, avec vn Discours grave et 
 eloquent de la Eoyne d'Angleterre an Duo de Biron sur ce Subject. 1607. 12mo. 
 
 The Earl of Essex his Letter to the Earle of Southampton in the Time of his 
 Troubles. Lend. (1642). 4to. 
 
 A Letter from the Earl of Essex to the Earl of Southampton in the latter 
 Times of Q. Elizabeth's Eeigne. Lond. 1643. 4to. 
 
 Memoirs of the Life of Eobert Devereux, Earl of Essex. Lond. 1573. Sto. 
 
 To these may b^ added — 
 
 The Arraignment, Tryal, and Condemnation of Eobert Earl of Essex, and 
 Henry Earl of Southampton, at Westminster the 19th of February, 1600, and 
 in the 43 year of reign of Queen Elizabeth, for Rebelliously conspiring arid 
 endeavouring the Subversion of the Government, by Confederacy with Tyr-Owen, 
 that Popish Traytor, and his Complices ; of whom these following, viz. : Sir 
 Christopher Blunt, Sir Charles Danvers, Sir Gillie Merrick, Henry Cuffe.* 
 Counsel for the Queen, Sir Henry Telverton, the Queen's Serjeant, Sir Edward 
 Coke, the Queen's Attorney-General, afterwards Lord Chief- Justice of England, 
 Mr. Bacon, afterwards Lord Chancellor. London, Printed for Tho. Basset, at 
 the George in Fleet Street, Sam. Heyrick, at Grayes-Inn Gate in Holborn, and 
 Math. Gillyflower, in Westminster Hall, 1679. 
 
 1 Williams speaks of two "gallante Impes," and the second must be an 
 illegitimate son named Walter, see Biographia Britdnnica, 1793, vol. v. p. 155; 
 also for a complete pedigree of the family Bnronagium Oenealogicum, vol. iii. 1784. 
 
 * See the poems written by this man, who is said to have been one of the 
 worst advisers of Essex. 
 
216 Walter Devereux. 
 
 "The ballad of ' Essex's last good night' is," says Mr. Chappell 
 (Popular Music, vol. i. p. 176), " on the death of Walter Devereux, 
 Earl of Essex (father of Queen Elizabeth's favourite), who died 
 in Dublin in 1576 (Sep. 22)." "The Paradise of Dainty Devises" 
 (1580) has a poem called "The Complaint of a Sinner, and 
 sung by the Earle of Essex upon his death-bed in Ireland." The 
 poem begins, 
 
 " Oh ! heavenly God, Father deere, cast down thy tender eye.'' 
 
 This production alludes to the death of Walter, Earl of Essex, 
 which occurred under somewhat suspicious circumstances, his 
 own wife not escaping from the loud echoes of a common 
 censure, which her subsequent hasty marriage did nothing to 
 allay. 
 
 Upon Essex himself, besides the poems here printed, we have 
 " A lamentable dittie composed upon the death of Eobert Lord 
 Devereux, late Earle of Essex, who was beheaded in the Tower 
 of London, upon Ash Wednesday, in the morning, 1601. To 
 the tune of Well-a-day. Imprinted at London for Margaret 
 Allde, etc., 1603." Eeprinted in Collier's Old Ballads, p. 124, 
 8vo. 1840; and in Evans, vol. iii. p. 158. Copies are also in the 
 Bagford and Eoxburghe Collections. 
 
217 
 
 [Harl. MS. 6910, leaf 1V7.] 
 
 Ferses upon tbe report of t&c Ueatfj of t!)e rigbt 
 ^onoratJle t&e loro of €%%€^. 
 
 This is a somewhat tedious poem, of unknown authorship. The 
 verses, however, show the great popularity which Essex enjoyed. 
 At the conclusion we have one of the pastoral dialogues so much 
 in vogue at the period. 
 
 Good God ! what will at lenght become of vs ? 
 What hope haue wee, when all our hope is gone ? 
 "Wee hope in vaine, if thou wilt plague vs thus, 
 To take the good, and let the hadd alone. 
 Send him agayne. Great Joue, let him returne. 
 Whose losse wee greeue, whose death wee nought but 
 mourne. 6 
 
 Send him againe to vs, that now at last 
 
 Our sommer season may returne agayne ; 
 
 That those cold nights which wee in teares haue past 
 
 May prooue effectuaft, ne be spent in vayne. 
 
 let him come, that now my teares may end : 
 
 Els send me, loue, more store of teares to spend. 12 
 
 Not longe it is since that wee bad him heere : 
 
 And yet tis long since I his death gan mourne : 
 
 Each minute seemes an howre, each howre a yeare, 
 
 Each yeare an adge to them that line forlorne. 
 
 An adge in pleasure seemes but an howre or twayne ; 
 
 An howre will seeme an adge, if spent in payne. 1« 
 
 Could I but soare with Eagle winges on bye, 
 
 And flye to Heauen as Orpheus went to heft. 
 
 So thou mightest liue, I would not care to dye, 
 
 Let loue but suffer mee my Tale to tell : 
 
 If Orpheus mou'd th' infernaft Gods to pittye, 
 
 loue coulde not chuse but heere my wofuU dittye. 24 
 
218 The Author's Tears. 
 
 Orpheus did trauaill with his well tun'd Lute, 
 
 And gott his wife by his alluring stroake ; 
 
 But my sadd tale should first begin my sute, at.mvk.] 
 
 Hoping to mooue a hart as harde as oke, 
 
 If teares and prayers might preuayle as weft, 
 
 As Hermes pipe, or Orpheus Lute in Heft. 30 
 
 The many ey'd Argus was induc'd to sleepe, 
 Whilst Hermes played vpon his slender reed, 
 And luU'de therwith forgat his charge to keepe. 
 Twas Hermes pipe, Twas it that did the deed. 
 
 happie Lute, o happye pipe of thyne, 
 
 His Ijute, thy pipe prevaild, and so may myne. 36 
 
 1 haue a pipe which shall I hope preuaile. 
 The selfe same pipe that Hermes vsde of late. 
 My Pype ile vse if all meanes els do fayle. 
 With it lie sweetly singe at heauen gate. 
 Joue must be LuU'd a sleepe, and ere it be day. 
 
 With mee my harts delight shall wend away. 42 
 
 But how to find the way is all my care ; 
 
 The way to Heauen is straight and perillous ; 
 
 There standes the Lyon, Bull, the Ramme, the IBeare, 
 
 A Hundreth beasts besydes as daungerous. 
 
 Therfore I will with teares intreate once more 
 
 That Joue will heare mee, and my deare restore. 48 
 
 Oh how mee thinkea I feele my slubbred cheekes 
 
 From foorth myne eyes greife-easing-teares to call : 
 
 A burning feauer still for moisture seekes : 
 
 That place must wither, wher no rayne doth faU : 
 
 No meruaile then if that my face doth wither ; 
 
 For why, my teares are gon I know not whither. 54 
 
 Yet were my cheekes so throughly wett of late 
 
 With floodes of teares in such aboundance falling : 
 
 That litle streames did flow wheras I sate : 
 
 That now, alas ! my teares are past recalling : or. itsj 
 
 So long I spared not for teares that now 
 
 To weepe on more, Alas ! I know not how. 60 
 
Nature Qrieving. 219 
 
 Yet though mine eyes are drie, my hart is wett, 
 
 From whence full streames of luke warme blood do fall. 
 
 And if my teares cannot this fauour get, 
 
 My blood is thyne, my hart, my life and all : 
 
 Because my teares are dry, my hart shall mourne, 
 
 Crying (deare Essex) for thy quicke returne. 66 
 
 Oh let my teares yet mooue thee (gentle Jove), 
 
 Behould my greife, respect the paynes I suflPer : 
 
 Thou that behouldst each creature from aboue, 
 
 Accept this last oblation that I offer. 
 
 My teares are dryed, my blood still wastes away. 
 
 How long (sweet Essex), how long wilt thou stay ? 72 
 
 Come quickly, Essex, els thou stayest to longe ; 
 
 Thou stayest to long, although thou com'st to-day ; 
 
 Although thou com'st to-day, thou dost vs wrong ; 
 
 Thou doest ts wrong, come therefore, come away : 
 
 Come, come, each groue doth nought but Essex cry ; 
 
 Each shore cries Essex, Essex ; so will I. ' 78 
 
 Looke how each tree begins to hang his head. 
 
 And letts his fadeing leaues with sorrow fall. 
 
 See euery plant and euery hearb lookes dead ; 
 
 The greenest grasse for sorrow waxeth pale ; 
 
 Each litle streame aboue his bankes doth swell ; 
 
 Greiuing for him wbome all things lou'd so weft. 84 
 
 For greife the fountaines inly troubled are ; 
 
 ffor greife echo tree hath chaungd his sommer coate ; 
 
 ffor greife away the swallow flyeth farre ; 
 
 ffor greife each pretty bird hath chaungd his noate ; 
 
 ffor greife each beast and bird is prest to dye ; 
 
 ffor greife my Essex dyed, and so will I. nf.uBbitj go 
 
 Then let me Hue no longer, let me dye ; ' 
 
 Let Sunne no longer see my weary boanes ; 
 
 But let my spirit to his sweet soule vp flye, 
 
 That lives among the saintes and holy ones. 
 
 Come, death, I praye thee, fye ! how long thou art ! 
 
 Why bend thy bow, let fly, heere, heeres my hart. 96 
 
220 Essex, receive thy Croum. 
 
 The Heauens I thinke sufficiently haue wept, 
 
 That both the earth below, and seas cries " hoe ! " ^ 
 
 The Heauens knew weft for whome those teares they kept. 
 
 They knew on whome they might them best bestow. 
 
 And now I thinke they haue not spared the same : 
 
 The earth shall Judge'for whome, and whence they came. 102 
 
 They came for Essex, but they came from heauen ; 
 
 They came for him whome wee would haue agayne ; 
 
 They came from heauen to make all recknings euen. 
 
 To cleare the counts that were betweene them twaine. 
 
 Now all accompts are clear'd, why dost thou stay ? 
 
 Now all is euen, why comst thou not away ? 108 
 
 Then let him come, sweete JouE, and send him downe. 
 
 I know he's happie, make vs happie to. 
 
 Come quickly, Essex, and receiue thy crowne, 
 
 "Which wee haue made for thee with muche adoe ; 
 
 This Laurell Crowne, which never yet was worne. 
 
 But kept for thee against thou didst returne. 114 
 
 I know thou hearst, thou canst not chuse but heare ; 
 
 And hearing, wilt thou not do thus much for me ? 
 
 Come downe a while, thou shalt not stay, my deare. 
 
 Why comst thou not ? alas ! doest thou abhorre me ? 
 
 After a while with leaue thou shalt returne, 
 
 And then shall I haue leaue and tyme to mourne. 120 
 
 Then shall I to the woods with Philomell, pr, 175.] 
 
 And there consume my wreatched dayes with mourning ; 
 
 The prickly Briers shall be my Centinell, 
 
 And keepe myne eyes awake against the morning. 
 
 That then the woodes maye heare the plaintes I make, 
 
 For thy sweet soule (sweet Essex), for thy sake. 126 
 
 ' " And at !i sterfc he was betwix hem two, 
 And pulled out a sword, and cvyed, Hoc." 
 
 — Chaucer, Knight's Tale. 
 
Ussex as a Warrior. 22 1 
 
 Some darkesome denne, and ouergrowne with mosse, 
 
 I shaft fynd out, where I may rest my boanes. 
 
 And there He sitt, and there bewayle my losse, 
 
 There wift I rest, my pillowe made of stones. 
 
 The earth my bed ; and this is all for thee, 
 
 ffor thee (deare Essex) whome I long to see. 132 
 
 A. Hermits life shall best become my state, 
 
 A Hermits weede shaft best become my backe, 
 
 A Hermits dish instead of siluer plate. 
 
 Nought shall I haue, yet nothing shall I lacke. 
 
 He walke and weepe, He nought but sight all day, 
 
 And all night longe He sitt me downe and pray. 138 
 
 He praye. He weepe ; He pray for thy retourne, 
 
 He weepe because thou art so long away. 
 
 Ne cease to pray, tift fyre shall cease to bourne : 
 
 Nor cease to weepe, till sunne shall cease by day 
 
 To shew his glorious face. He pray. He weep — 
 
 I made a vow to thee ; my vowe He keepe. 144 
 
 Thus like a Hermite will I walke alonge, 
 
 And muse on nought but of thy glorious acts : 
 
 Thy speare, thy Launce, thy Sheilde, shall be my songe ; 
 
 He singe of nought but of thy Noble facts. 
 
 Are Pompeys warrs, or Ceasars conquests knowne, 
 
 And shaft not thyne all-passing-acts be shewne ? 150 
 
 Their deeds were graced by the singers songe. 
 
 That could at large discribe what they had done. 
 
 Direct my pen. Great Iove, I may not wronge [if. irgbnj 
 
 Nor clipse his fame, that hath more honoure woone ; ' 
 
 Ceasar nor Pompey may compare with thee, 
 
 Thrice happye Devorax, if thrice may bee. • 156 
 
 What shall hearafter after adges say, 
 
 If all thy conquests wonne be straight forgotten ? 
 
 The body dyes, thy name shaft ne're decay ; 
 
 Thy fame shall liue, thy body dead and rotten. 
 
 And thou shouldst liue, if I might haue my wift, 
 
 But sith thou canst not liue, thy name liue stift. 162 
 
222 He was feared by the Irish. 
 
 And art thou dead, my deare, and couldst thou dj'e ? 
 
 And leaue vs thus in this tempestious tyme ? 
 
 Thy soule, to good for earth, to heauen doth five. 
 
 More fitt, indeed, for that celestiatt Clyme. 
 
 There shalt thou haue the meede of all thy labour, 
 
 Though heere on earth thou hast had litle fauour. i68 
 
 This is the fauour that thou hast receiued, 
 
 Thou art with Seipio into exile sent ; 
 
 At least, thou art of common Ayre bereaued ; 
 
 At least, thou art (Alas !) in prison pent. 
 
 After such conquests wonne, so Seipio far'de : 
 
 Thou hast with Seipio this for thy rewarde. 174 
 
 Thou, that hast grac'st so much this litle land. 
 
 And with the victores garland crown'd her head, 
 
 Whome Spaniards dread for thy victorious hand, 
 
 And Irish rebells feare. What ! art thou dead ? 
 
 Once more I pray thee, Iove, let him returne. 
 
 That wee that lou'd him so may cease to mourne. 180 
 
 And yet it may bee that hee will not deigne 
 
 That this ingratefuft Land agayne should haue him ; 
 
 But teft him, Iove, how hee is wisht agayne, 
 
 How much wee want him, and how much wee craue him. 
 
 Giue him these lynes, for these I hope shall mooue him,[if ,8,,] 
 
 These shew our harts and mynds, and how wee loue him. 186 
 
 Wee loue him still, and still wee wish him heare, 
 
 Wee loue and wish for him, that want him most ; 
 
 Should wee not wish him, whome wee held so deare 
 
 Before the parting of his blessed ghost ? 
 
 Aliue wee lou'd him ; dead, we loue him more : — 
 
 They loue him dead, that lou'd him not before. 192 
 
 But had wee lou'd him as our duty was. 
 
 Our dutie was t' haue crown'd his head wi'th hay, 
 
 And not t' haue caus'd him, as wee haue, alas ! " 
 
 Ingratefult wee to make such hast away, 
 
 Ingratefuft wee that were the cause of this, 
 
 We onely loosers are, yett hee a winner is. 198 
 
Wear thy Crown, Eliza ! 223 
 
 Though hee hath lost his life, yet hath he wonne 
 
 A Crowne of Glorie in the highest spheare, 
 
 A Crowne that farre excells the midday Sunne, 
 
 The midday Sunne when as it shynes most cleare : 
 
 His Crowne excells an earthly Crowne as farre 
 
 As doth the Sunne excell a lesser starre. 204 
 
 Whom could it then haue greiu'd, if hee had seene 
 
 his manly face a Laureft garland weare ? 
 
 This honoure was his due, if it had bin 
 
 Ten tymes — nay, if a Thousand tymes — more deare ; 
 
 But some haue Crown'd his head, in stead of bay, 
 
 With foule reproach, as much as in them laye. 210 
 
 That head that was more fitt a crowne to weare, 
 
 Nor must, nor dare, I say, a crowne of Gold : 
 
 A Crowne of Gould, alas ! it were to deare ; 
 
 'Twere deare to gett, but dearer farre to hould. 
 
 Nor do I wish to see more Crownes than one, 
 
 And none to raigne but faire ELIS' alone. [iMsobuj 216 
 
 And let her raigne, Good God, as long as I 
 
 Or any other drawes his vitall breath ; 
 
 And let her Hue, and let her neuer dye. 
 
 But rule titt Christ shaft come and conquer death. 
 
 Weare thou thy Orowne, ELISA ! 'tis thyne owne. 
 
 And keepe it stitt in despite of thy foen. 222 
 
 Weare thou thy Crowne, ELISA ! weare it still, 
 
 And prosper stitt, God graunt, vntitt the end ! 
 
 This haue I pray'd for thee. Now, be it thy will. 
 
 That I may pray this one thing for a freend. 
 
 I can but wish It him, I can but craue it ; 
 
 If I could giue it him, he should surely haue it. 228 
 
 I wish him, then, a Crowne, — a Crowne of Bayes, 
 
 That he might triumph in his victors weed ; 
 
 Me thinks this might, Great QUEENE, prolonge thy dayes, 
 
 To see that Crownes should be thy subiects meede 
 
 Is't not an honoure, is't not a grace to thee. 
 
 To gouerne those that like Kings Crowned be ? 234 
 
 e2 
 
224 Revenge. 
 
 Although there bee I knowe, althougli not many, 
 
 Yet too, too many, if there be but two,^ 
 
 That frett and grind there teeth, if there be any. 
 
 To whome we bend and more obeisaunce doe. 
 
 Some envie thee, wee envie stift our better : 
 
 Their better then thou art, but must remaine their debter. 240 
 
 Thou must remaine their debter for a tyme ; 
 
 And if thou neuer shalt discharg thy detts. 
 
 Yet know they Hue that lining still are.thyne ; 
 
 Thy Sonnes wiH: truly tread their father's stepps, 
 
 Nor cease vntitt they haue appeasde thy ghost, 
 
 "With offering vp their blood to him they hated most, [if.isij 246 
 
 I cannot sleepe one winke, thy troubled spirit 
 
 Doth still pursue me wheresoere I goe. 
 
 I cannot rest by day, nor sleepe by night, 
 
 Thy Ghost still askes me what I meane to doe. 
 
 E-euenge I Reiienge ! nought but revenge I heare ; 
 
 Revenge ! thy Ghost still soundeth in myne eare. 252 
 
 Me thought I saw Alecto stand araaz'de ; 
 
 Tisiphone did shake her ougly head. 
 
 And in my face the fell Mega'ra gaz'de, 
 
 And weeping sayd, looke, looke, here lyes hee dead. 
 
 The furies wept, the furies wept amayne : 
 
 What hart so hard that could from teares refraine ? 258 
 
 The furies wept to see earth's wonder lye, 
 
 And neuer stirre, nor mooue, nor draw his breath ; 
 
 They stood amaz'de to thinke that he could dye, 
 
 That foyled Mars in feild, and fear'd not death ; 
 
 They went to see him in his winding sheete. 
 
 And With there watery teares they washt his feete. 2G4 
 
 Three tymes they lifted vp his heade from grounde. 
 Three tymes I saw them kisse his paler browe. 
 Three tymes they daunc'de his sencelesse corps arounde, 
 Three tymes they stand stone still', Three tymes they bowe 
 Them selues a-crosse. Three tymes I heard them sing 
 Haile, ESSEX ! hayle to thee ! all haile, our King ! 270 
 
 1 Ealeigh and Cecil arc probably liorc alluded to, 
 
[If. 181 bk.] 
 
 The Souls greet Essex: 225 
 
 With that mee thought I sawe them post away, 
 
 And carye him betweene them in the ayer, 
 
 And in a stately tombe his corps to laye, 
 
 Whither they may at their due tymes repayre, 
 
 And there solemnize with continuatt cries 
 
 His death, whose body there intombed lyes. 276 
 
 Mee thought againe I sawe when as my deare 
 
 Went to the Elisian plaines to take his place ; 
 
 Mee thought I sawe when he aproched neare, 
 
 Thousandes of Soules stand stareing in his face : 
 
 They wondred much to see earths wonder there ; 
 
 They wondred most of all that knew him heere. 282 
 
 I sawe how euerie Ghost did bend full lowe, 
 
 And crouche to him as soone as hee came nye : 
 
 Greene herbes, and Roses sweete, I saw them strowe, 
 
 As if some bridgrome were to passe therby. 
 
 Some looking stood, some gaz'd, mo prest to see ; 
 
 But most did wonder who the same might bee. 288 
 
 As if some Commet, or some biasing starre, 
 
 Or strangest Meteor in the ayre had been, 
 
 Or els as if a flaming fyre from farre 
 
 In sylent night were on a suddaine scene ; 
 
 So stood each Ghost amazde, and could not teft 
 
 What they might thinke to see such ghosts in heft. 294 
 
 Or as a wearie trauailer should tread 
 
 His foote by chaunce vpon a deadly snake,^ 
 
 Starts backe agayne, and -with pale feare lookes dead : 
 
 Feare of the danger past doth make him quake. 
 
 Each ghost did quake and tremble for to see 
 
 Such Ghosts to passe the river Styx as hee. 300 
 
 Mee thought I sawe how Pluto was agast. 
 
 When sudayne newes was brought into his courte, 
 
 How DEVOEAX the Stygian lake had past, 
 
 And thousandes dayly did to him resort : 
 
 Pluto for anger looked pale and wanne, 
 
 Till on a suddaine thus a Ghost began. 306 
 
 ' See Virgil, ii. 379 ; " Improvisum aspris veluti qui sentibiis anguem 
 I'rcssit humi niteiis." 
 
226 Mssex the Son of Jupiter. 
 
 Most Soueraigne Lord, kinge of th' infernall deepe, 
 
 Prince of Auernus and of Acheron, pf. isz.} ' 
 
 Lord of those plaines where blessed soules do sleepe, 
 
 Ruler of Lethe and obliuion ; 
 
 Great Pluto, whome th' infernall Ghosts do feare, 
 
 Marke well my wordes, and to my taUe giue eare. 312 
 
 There hath of late arriued at our Coast, 
 
 And hath already past the Stigian lake, 
 
 Some Princes spirit, some mightie monarchs ghost, 
 
 At sight of whome ech ghost in hell doth quake ; 
 
 Such glory shinneth in his manly face, 
 
 That Phoebus rides not ■with so great a grace. 318 
 
 My self did see him, soone as ere he came ; 
 
 Come step by step, wjt/« such a maiestie, 
 
 That sure he was a man of muckle fame, 
 
 Of great renowme, and greater dignitye : 
 
 His gesture, gate, and cariage doth declare 
 
 He was not as the basser commons are. 324 
 
 I surely thinke he was some goddese child, 
 
 For sure he cannot be of mortall blood ; 
 
 Or els some Nimph hath bin by chaunce beguil'd, 
 
 As shee was sporting in some pleasant wood : 
 
 love surely spied some Nimph whereas she lay, 
 
 Shrouding hir self from heat of sowzmers day. SCO 
 
 No mortall wight, no man, had euer power, 
 
 That such a mirhour from his loynes should springe ; 
 
 'Twas Jove him-selfe that through the tiles did shower, 
 
 'Twas Joue that mounted 'with the Egles winge, 
 
 'Twas Joue that for Europa crossed the seas, 
 
 'Twas Joue that like a Swanne did Leda please. 336 
 
 Then lett me speake what I in hart conceaue, 
 
 That Joue his father was, not any other ; 
 
 Why might not JOVE, that did so ofte deceiue qj, igj i,itj 
 
 So many Queenes, also deceaue his mother ? 
 
 Nor is it any shame at all, but rather 
 
 A grace to one haue a God ones father, 342 
 
His handsome Form. 227 
 
 And if the ofspringe of the Grods may die, 
 
 And that their threed is by the sisters spunne, 
 
 Then sure I thinke (if none thinke so but I) 
 
 Some God his father is, he some Grods sonne. 
 
 No sparke of earthly mould in him is seene. 
 
 And such a Ghost as hee heere hath not bin. 348 
 
 But Looke you yonder, I need say no more, 
 
 See yonder where he comes, with what a grace ! 
 
 Pluto, I thinke, ne're saw such Ghosts before. 
 
 Or seldome saw his like within this place. 
 
 But marke his stature well, he is so tall,i 
 
 That by the head in height he exceeds them aft. 354 
 
 Behould his foote, his legge, his comely knee, 
 
 Behould the round proportion of his thighe ; 
 
 Behould his wast, vouchsafe his breast to see ; 
 
 Behould his necke, his cheeke, his burning eye ; 
 
 Behould his mouth, his head, and att the rest : 
 
 Each member striues which shaft become him best. 360 
 
 Men speake of Hector, of Achilles stoute ; 
 
 Oft haue I heard of Alexanders name ; 
 
 Of Ajax, Pyrrhus, all the Gretian route ; 
 
 Of Scipio, Pompey, and of Ceasars fame : 
 
 Yet that this one is dead, it greeues me more. 
 
 Then att the rest, whome I haue nam'd before. 366 
 
 It greiues my hart to see him in this place. 
 
 Because by right he should haue never dyed ; 
 
 And yet it Joyes me more to see his face 
 
 Then 't doth the Bridgrome to behould his Bride : [ir.issj 
 
 One while it grieves me, then it maks me gl^d ; 
 
 One while I ioyfull am, one while more sadd. 372 
 
 My Soule is sad euen for their sakes aboue, 
 
 Tor them that haue so great a cause to playne, 
 
 For them that Hue, and him so dearely loue, 
 
 Por them that do so great a losse sustayne : 
 
 ludge thou if they haue cause to mourne or noe ; 
 
 ludge thou, great Pluto, if it be not so. 378 
 
 "^ MS. ifile. 
 
228 Pluto's Speech. 
 
 So spake the Ghost, when Pluto thus began, 
 
 I know right well, and marke what thou hast spoke ; 
 
 Nor bast thou lyed, for why, I know the man 
 
 "Whose death so many doth to teares provoke ; 
 
 And, by my Crowne, my selfe can hardly keepe 
 
 Myne eyes from teares, but thai they nedes witt weepe. 384 
 
 And I could weepe, if teares did not beseeme 
 
 A womans face, and not a manly spright ; 
 
 A womans teares men comonly esteeme 
 
 As ignis fatuus in a darkesome night : 
 
 Therfore, because myne eyes are teares forbidden, 
 
 My hart shaft shead his teares that there lye hidden. 390 
 
 My hart foregaue me soone as ere I heard, 
 
 Thy tongue but ginne so hard a tale to tell ; 
 
 And, by my scepter. How I was a£Fraid, 
 
 Least some vnhappie chaunce there had befell. 
 
 Yet could I not suppose the end of it, 
 
 That hee was dead, that should not haue dyed yet. 390 
 
 "Well, then, dispatch, make hast, and quickly runne. 
 
 You know the place wheras the sisters keepe, 
 
 TeH them from me thai I wilt haue them come. 
 
 They thai haue caus'd so many eyes to weepe : 
 
 Goe fetch those haggs : why flyest thou not ? be breife. ^^^- '^ ^^-^ 
 
 Although their sight witt nought decrease my greife. 402 
 
 They that haue made so manie weeping eyes, 
 
 Such heauie harts for his vntiraely death, 
 
 For him whose corps on earth intombed lyes. 
 
 Whose soule wzth vs remaineth here beneath. 
 
 For him whose soule and body death could seuer. 
 
 For him whose body dyed, whose sonle liues euer. 408 
 
 And shall they laughe when others nought but weepe ? 
 
 And shall they sing when others nought but crye ? 
 
 "When others wake, shall they securely sleepe ? 
 
 And shall they lyue when as their betters dye ? 
 
 As I am Pluto, I witt make them know. 
 
 What 'tis for them to make their freind their foe. 414 
 
Clolho, hold lip ihy Head! 229 
 
 As I am Pluto, and as Pluto Hues, 
 
 As Pluto liues, and hath power to command, 
 
 As he hath power to punish him thai striues, 
 
 Against his sacrede will it to withstand, 
 
 So shall the fates soone see what Pluto can, 
 
 "What Pluto win do for so worthy a man. 420 
 
 Come, cursed Haggs. Clotho, hould vp thy head ; 
 
 Looke not a-squint, it will not serue thy turne : 
 
 Thou doest not heare the prayers for the dead, 
 
 Thou doest not see the teares of them that mourne. 
 
 Thou doest not heare the sighes of them that plaine. 
 
 For him whom thou, vile Hagg, of late hast slayne. 426 
 
 Is this the threed thou spunst, that should haue bin 
 
 A threed that should from East to West haue runue — 
 
 A threed the like wherof was neuer scene — 
 
 A threed the like wherof was neuer spunne ? 
 
 Did I not charge thee that this threed should bee 
 
 No common one, but one as muche as three ? Lif. laij 432 
 
 And Lachesis striue not to hide thie head ; 
 
 Thou hidest thie head, but canst not hide thie shame. 
 
 Thy sister 1 and thou drewst out the thred, 
 
 "Which of you two deserves the greater blame ? 
 
 Come, cursed hag, thie face thie fact bewrayes. 
 
 And thou that guilty art, thie guilty conscience sayes. 438 
 
 Is this that threed I charg'd thee draw in lenght. 
 That Nestors threed should not be halfe so longe ? 
 Is this that threed I said should haue the strenght. 
 That Hector's threed should not be halfe so stronge ?^ 
 And is this thread, this stronge threed, drawen so weake, 
 That one poore little pull could make it breake ? 441 
 
 Didst thou but heare the bitter plaints menn make 
 
 For losse of him whos threed to weake was spunne. 
 
 The heavy grones and outcries for his sake. 
 
 That should haue had a longer course to runne. 
 
 No, no, thou doest not heare the sighes they breath 
 
 ffor him whom thou, vile hag, hast done to death. 450 
 
 1 Blank in MS. ^ MS. Imge. 
 
230 Every Sense asleep. 
 
 My eyes are wearied -with, continuatt cries, 
 
 And often prayers w/Mch. they daylie make. 
 
 One sayes he will a fat lame sacrifice, 
 
 One saj'es he'le give a yong kid for his sake : 
 
 Thus euery one doth promise lesse or more, 
 
 If I would heare them, and their deere restore. 456 
 
 that I could ! but now it is to late : 
 
 This threed is cutt that should haue lasted longe. 
 
 This threed is cutt ty thee, thou cursed fate ; 
 
 Thou didst mistake the threed, thou didst him wronge. 
 
 See, Atropos, see hou thou didst mistake ; 
 
 Thou didst him wrong, amendes thou canst not make. 462 
 
 1 knowe'not if thou didst mistake or not ; nf.isibkj 
 This threed, thou seest, hath not the lenght I bad : 
 
 Or yf thou didst of purpose Crosse me soe, 
 
 This threed hath not the strenght that should haue had. 
 
 Hold vp thie head, thou witch ; speake, answere me, 
 
 Thie fault is ne're the lesse, how so ere it be. 468 
 
 And, by myne honour, were it not for shame, 
 
 And that I thinke the godes would be displeas'd. 
 
 Your wheele, your spindle, and your cursed frame, 
 
 Soone should be burnt, and ye soone should be eas'd. 
 
 Nor should mj' court. But that He beare in minde, 
 
 Till, for revenge, a fitter place I finde. 474 
 
 So Pluto spake, mee thought,^ and more then this. 
 
 Much more then I in minde could safely keepe, 
 
 Nor beare away. My head so troubled is, 
 
 That euery sence seemes, as it were, a-sleepe : 
 
 My head so troubled is with greefe and care. 
 
 That all my sences, as no sences are. 480 
 
 My weeping eyes cannot discerne aright, 
 
 Dim'd with those teares that fell as fast as raine ; 
 
 Excesse of teares hath cleans obscured their light. 
 
 That blacke seemes white, and white seemes blacke againe. 
 
 Blacke seemes the swanne, white seemes the blacker crowe ; 
 
 Thus blacke frome white, mj' poors eyes scarcelie knowe. 486 
 
 ' My. thoii'///. 
 
Feeling quite gone. 231 
 
 And when I lieare poore Philomela's songe, 
 
 Her mornfuU songe, when she bewayles her fate, 
 
 Her wofuft tunes in token of the wrong 
 
 WAech wicked Tereus offred hir of late, 
 
 Her sweetest songe seemes but the screeching Cries 
 
 Of some vnlucky Owle by night that flies. 492 
 
 And when I smell the sweetest Gilliflower, 
 
 The faire Carnacian, and the lovely rose. 
 
 The sweetest odour seemes to me most sowre, [if.iss.i 
 
 The sweetest smett doth make me stop my nose ; 
 
 The stinckinge Carrion seemes to me to smett 
 
 More sweet then doth the sweetest daffaditt. 498 
 
 And when I tast, my tast so altred is, 
 
 That gall seemes hony, hony gall anone ; 
 
 And yf by Chaunce, my ladies lippes I kisse 
 
 Their tast to me seemes as I kiss'd a stone ; 
 
 Yea Mopsaes lipps seeme to my tast as sweety 
 
 As yf Pamelas lipps and myne should meet. 604 
 
 And when I feele, my feeling quite is gone. 
 
 That soft seemes hard, and heavy streight seemes light ; 
 
 Soft, hard, light, heavy, is to me all one : 
 
 No sence I haue that can discerne aright. 
 
 I see, I heare, I tast, I feele, I smett. 
 
 And yett no sence I haue that ludgeth wett. 510 
 
 Alas ! what shall I say ? or who is neare 
 
 To whome I may my wofutt case complaine ? 
 
 Lives any one thai will w«th equall care 
 
 Behold my'greef and pittie me my payne ? • 
 
 O no, ther's none, ther's none that lives, I knowe. 
 
 That once will pitty me, sith I am so lowe. 516 
 
 But though that mortall men will neuer deeme 
 
 To see my teares, and heare the plaintes I make, 
 
 Yett will the godes, I hope, my teares esteeme, 
 
 Esteeme my teares and deepe sighs for his sake. 
 
 For his sweet sake, whose death so deere we see 
 
 That thousandes rather might haue dyed thfen he. 522 
 
[If. 185 bkj 
 
 232 My Rose is plucked. 
 
 But if there bee one rose amonge tlie rest,' 
 
 That shewes aboue the rest his ruby head, 
 
 One tree that shewes aloft his lofty crest, 
 
 Soone are they blasted, soonest are they dead. 
 
 The fairest flower, the rose, is pluckt anone, 
 
 Whereas the stinckinge weed is lett alone. 528 
 
 MY ROSE is pluckt, my CEDAR hanges his head. 
 Of my sweete flowre nought but the stalke remaynes, 
 My loy is quickly gon, my deare is dead. 
 Oh ! how I heare how all the earth complaynes ! 
 Oh ! that my death might haue sufiis'd for thyne ! 
 Thy life was life to me, thy death is myne ! 534 
 
 If euery member of my body were 
 
 A Body by it selfe substantiall : 
 
 Had I ten liues I should not count them deare. 
 
 So they from death to life my deare niight call. 
 
 Could my life saue but one haire of thy head, 
 
 Thou doest not know how soone I could be dead. 540 
 
 And should I not vouchsafe to dye for thee. 
 
 Who whilst thou liued'st didst suffer so much wronge ? 
 
 The wronge thou hadst it did pertayne to mee. 
 
 The bodyes payne runnes all the partes among ; 
 
 Each member greeues when as the whole is troubled : 
 
 Though what one feeles is in the whole twise doubled. 546 
 
 What wronge thou hadst the earth may ludge full well ; 
 
 Though what thou didst deserue each man may gesse : 
 
 Great is the wrongs, the which no tongue can tett ; 
 
 Great is the wronges, which no pen can expresse. 
 
 Ingratefutt soyle ! for what shall vertue serue, 
 
 If this be their reward that best deserue ? 552 
 
 What was the cause why worthy Scipio did 
 Forbid vngratefuU Rome his boanes should haue? 
 The same that might haue caus'd the to forbid 
 
 ' 111 tho MS. this line was ic-writtcn iit the cud of the stanza by mistake in 
 beginning- a new ime. 
 
The Law of Ostracism. 233 
 
 That this ingratefuU land should be thy graue. [„ ,3,,, 
 
 Thy bones, with Scipioes, might haue found a place, 
 
 A place more thankful! then our Ingland was. 558 
 
 But thou art dead, and thou hast left us thus : 
 
 I would thou wert not dead, or that I could 
 
 Steale fyre from heauen with Prometheus, 
 
 And make one like to thee of earthly mould. 
 
 Thy like ? That cannot be of earthly creatures, 
 
 Are faynt, effseminate, and tender natures. 564 
 
 Or that I knew where good Sybilla keepes. 
 
 She should conducte me to the golden bowe ; ^ 
 
 With her I would into th' infernall deepes. 
 
 And passing Styx, vnto the ghosts belowe. 
 
 There in ELISIUM would I spend the night, 
 
 In happy talking with my hartes delight. 570 
 
 But let me see the cause wherfore my deare 
 
 "Was thus exiled from his soueraignes gate. . 
 
 We haue a Lawe cal'd Ostrocismus here, 
 
 A certayne Lawe the Athenians vs'd of late. 
 
 My Lord was by this lawe exiled I fynd : 
 
 The good must packe, the bad must stay behynd. 576 
 
 For this was Aristides forc'd to leaue 
 
 His natiue soyle, the place where he was borne ; 
 
 This Lawe of Ostrocisme did him deceaue ; 
 
 It makes some laugh, but many moe to mourne : 
 
 This Law of Ostrocisme by force doth make 
 
 My Lord this Land, and all his freendes forsake. 582 
 
 Well, then, sith Ceasar doth example giue, 
 
 Syth he 's fled from vs, from our selues wee'l fly ; 
 
 Then let vs dye, and not desyre to liue, 
 
 And let vs liue, and yet desyre to dye. 
 
 Lett's dye, lett's liue ; to dye or liue be loth : [if.isstik.j 
 
 Let neither please vs, yet desyre them both. 588 
 
 ' bough. See Virgil, vi. 204 : 
 
 " Discolor unde auri per ramos aura refulsit." 
 
234 I find nothing but Shadows. 
 
 Now hee is gon, why should I stay behynd ? 
 
 Why should I wander on this earth alone ? 
 
 Nothing but shaddowes hears beneath I fynd : 
 
 I often talke, yet talke but to a stone ; 
 
 And when I seeme far off a man to see, 
 
 Alas ! alas ! it is a silly tree. 594 
 
 And as I walkt alonge, my selfe and I 
 
 I spyed a man farr of vpon a playne ; 
 
 He stoode stone still, till I had passed by. 
 
 I spoke to him ; hee answered not agayne, 
 
 Yet bowed his head : alas ! the wind did blow, 
 
 And made him stoope, and bend his head full lowe. 600 
 
 Why do I stay, sith that my deare is gone ? 
 
 Hee rests aboue ; why do I stay belowe ? 
 
 Why should I wander on this earth alone ? 
 
 ffayne would I dye, and yet I know not how. 
 
 Earth, swallow me, or ells permitt some tree 
 
 May fall vpon my head and murther mee ! 606 
 
 I dye, yet liue, I dye a lingring life, 
 
 I liue, yet dye, I liue a lingring death ; 
 
 Bothe life and death are wz'th themselues at strife ; 
 
 My sence is gone, and yet I draw my breath. 
 
 Fye, death ! fye, fj^e, how long shall life withstand ? 
 
 How long shaft feeble life resist thy mightie hand ? 612 
 
 fatall howre when first I was begott, 
 
 yet farr more fatall was myne howre of birth, 
 
 Most fatall howre when as it was my lott 
 
 To see earths hope so soone departe the earth, 
 
 My life forespent, a life I cannot call ; 
 
 Come quickly, death, and make amends for all. Qf.is?,] 618 
 
 Heere will I sitt, and neuer hence depart. 
 This broad leau'd beech shall bee my canapie. 
 
 1 will not hence till death hath throwne his darte, 
 Then shall I Tryumph in my victorie. 
 
 Heere sitt I downe, let me not rise agayne, 
 
 Then heare me, death, and ease me of my payne. 624 
 
Viator and Menalcas. 235 
 
 Viator. — God speede, my freend, why sittst thou heere so 
 sadd? 
 
 Thy lookes bewraye a discontented mynd. 
 Menalcas. — Indeed, my freend, more cause I neuer had, 
 
 I seeke for that which in no place I fynd. 
 Viat. — Why, what ? if I so much may freely craue. 
 Meila. — Nay, nought but that which I alreadie haue. 630 
 
 Yiat. — "Why seekest thou that of which thou art possest. 
 And yet to fynd thou makest so much adoe ? 
 
 Mena. — I seeke it farre, though heere I sitt and rest, 
 I haue it not, and yet I haue it to. 
 
 Viat. — And hauinge it, why doest thou_ seeke it more? 
 
 Mena. — For more I want it then I did before. 63(? 
 
 Viat. — How canst thou want the thing that now thou hast ? 
 
 Thou hast it not, and yet thou hast it to. 
 Mena. — I haue it now, but cannofhould it fast, 
 
 I hauing, haue it not, and want it so. 
 Viat. — Thou hast, hast not. I pray thee tell mee plaine. 
 Mena. — I haue not now, and now I haue againe. 642 
 
 Viat. — I pray thee, man, deale plainly with thy freend. 
 
 Why sitst thou heere ? why doest thou weepe so sore ? 
 Mena. — Still must I weepe, my teares must have no end ; 
 
 Here must I sitt, and I must rise no more. 
 Viat. — No more ? Alas ! what art thou ? let mee know. 
 Mena. — Attend a while ; that I shall quickly shew. 648 
 
 Whilome I was, till fortune cross'd my fate, [ir. ^^ bj; j 
 
 A shepheard happye for my fruitfull flocke ; 
 
 And on those playnes pipinge I dayly sate ; 
 
 I fed my sheepe, and they increas'd my stocke ; 
 
 Heere had I tyme to tune my oaten reede. 
 
 Whilst my poore flocke did round about me feede. 654 
 
 I knowe there dwells no shephard on this coast. 
 
 Whose flocke did yeeld him more encrease then myne ; 
 
 There was no one that had more cause to boast, 
 
 Till fortune turnde her wheele, and ganne declyne : 
 
 My Ewes came euery day twise to the payle, 
 
 But now scarce once, I know not what they ayle. 660 
 
236 Th'e Shepherd'' a Lament. 
 
 Vnless they sight, because I nought but weepe, 
 
 And will not feede, because I cannot eate. 
 
 Alas ! poore soules ! alas ! poore sillye sheepe ! 
 
 "Why do you for my sake forsake jour meate ? 
 
 Feede on, my lambes ; feede on, my tender kidds ; 
 
 Spare not to eate ; spare not, yowr master bidds. 666 
 
 Let not the cause that keepes myne eyes from sleepe 
 
 Cause you refraine yowr foode thus euery day. 
 
 Let not the cause that makes my hart to weepe 
 
 Cause you, alas ! thus causles pyne away. 
 
 Then cease to sight, poore sheepe ! ye do me wrong ; 
 
 Myne onely is the greife, to me it doth belong. 672 
 
 Oh, how I lou'd my flocke ! what care I tooke ! 
 
 I loue it still, yet once I lou'd it more. 
 
 Both loue and hope made mee more nearely lopke ; 
 
 I loue it still, though not as earst before. 
 
 I lou'd my flock, although it was but smale. 
 
 Yet one poore one I loued best of aft. 678 
 
 The leader of my heardj for him I weepe ; 
 
 My selfe haue lost my hope, my flocke their guide : [ir.iss.] 
 
 My hope is gone, the stay of all my sheepe ; 
 
 So hee had liued, would all the rest had dyed ! 
 
 Hee kept the rauenous wolfe and fox away ; 
 
 And whilst he liued, my flock did ne're decay. 684 
 
 Now hee is gon, the wolfe is waxen bould. 
 
 The Fox doth dare molest my tender lambes, 
 
 And fetch my kiddes out of the very fould. 
 
 And steale my simple sheepe out of my hands, 
 
 The wolfe and fox (thee dead) now dare do more, 
 
 They dare doe that they durst not doe before. 690 
 
 Poore shepheard I, how my poore sheepe do stray ! 
 
 And wander vp and downe they know not whither. 
 
 Alas ! they know not in what place to stay, 
 
 Nor where to shrowd themselues from winters weather. 
 
 The wind, the rayne, snow, hayle, and every showre, 
 
 To kill mj'^ Kidds, and tender Lambes haue powre. 696 
 
Poor Menalcas. 237 
 
 Alas ! my hope, my deare, my onely ioye ! 
 
 0, ESSEX ! ESSEX ! whither art thou gon ? 
 
 And what about shall I my witts employe, 
 
 To wayle thy death, thy absence to bemone ? 
 
 Heare must I sitt and still bewayle thy death, 
 
 Whilst poore Menalcas Hues and drawes his breath. 702 
 
 Viat. — What doest thou mumble thus? speake, speake it 
 
 plain e, 
 Reueale thy greife, and so thou mayst fynd ease : 
 To keepe it in doth more augment thy payne ; 
 To make it knowne doth it in part apease. 
 Reueale thy greife, impart me halfe thy care. 
 Bee rul'd by me, and let me beare my share. 708. 
 
 To men may with more ease a burthen beare. 
 
 Two riuers do receue more store of rayne. 
 
 Two oxen wz'th more ease the ground do reare. 
 
 Two Barnes do receiue more store of graine: or. issbkj 
 
 Then let two beare which is to much for one. 
 
 And let vs greeue alike, or both, or none. 714 
 
 Mena. — Why should I doubt my seacrets to reveale ? 
 
 Why should I hyd them from so true a freend ? 
 
 Why should I to my selfe my greifes conceale ? 
 
 Why should I not bewray what I intend ? 
 
 My paynes are ripe, my teares not farre behynde. 
 
 Yet still more cause of greife and teares I fynde. 720 
 
 Longe haue I wept, longe haue my watry eyes 
 
 Stream'd forth there sea-salt teares adowne my face. 
 
 Long haue I mourn'd, the woodes haue heard my cryes. 
 
 The trees haue seen my teares that flow'd apace, 
 
 The woodes and trees shall with me wittnes beare. 
 
 They heard mee weepe when all refused to heare. ' 726 
 
 They sawe me weepe, they saw me bownde to dye ; 
 
 See in there barkes, see where my plaints are carued ; 
 
 They heard mee nought but ESSEX ! ESSEX ! crye, 
 
 And weepe for him that best my teares deserued : 
 
 I wept for him, for him my teares I spend, 
 
 ffor him stilt must I weepe, my teares must haue no end. 732 
 
238 Ussex Lives. 
 
 Viat. — What meanst thou, man ? why doest thou ESSEX 
 name? 
 
 Or why is ESSEX wholly in thy mouth ? 
 Mena. — Because hee was a man of mickle fame, 
 
 Whose like hath neuer liued in all the south. 
 Yiat. — Because hee was : why doest thou say because ? 
 
 As though he is not now, as ere before he was. 73a 
 
 What though hee liues a prisoner for a tyme ! 
 
 What though his body they in prison pen'd ! 
 
 The name of prisoner nought augmentes his cryme : 
 
 The bones obey, the mynd witt neuer bend ; 
 
 Nor doth this dimme at alt, or clipse his fame, 
 
 But soone shall adde more honoure to his name, ot.iea.i 744 
 
 Looke how the sonne, when first he shewes his face 
 
 Out of a Misty Cloude, doth shine most cleare : 
 
 So likewise, after this supposd disgrace. 
 
 The name of ESSEX greater shall apeare. 
 
 A flaming fyre is farthest seene by night. 
 
 In clowdy tymes shaft vertue shine most bright. 750 
 
 Because hee was ? thou doest him double wronge, 
 
 As though his worthy fame were ought decay d. 
 
 He yet surviues, and shall, I hope, Hue Longe 
 
 To helpe his freendes, and make his foes afraid. 
 
 He yet suruiues, he liues, his name doth line. 
 
 Whose life doth life to many thousandes giue. 756 
 
 Mena. — ^What doth Menalcas heare ? Alas ! hee dreames ! 
 
 His eares but flatter him, hee is deceaued ; 
 
 His eyes are dimmed, gazeing on Titan's beames ; 
 
 Each obiect hath eche sence of sence bereaued. 
 
 And can he liue ? Oh, no ! it cannot bee ! 
 
 And could hee dye ? Dead, dead, alas ! is hee. 762 
 
 Viat. — What sayest thou, man ? whome doest thou meane is 
 
 dead? 
 Knowe this, that ESSEX liues ; how could hee dye ? 
 Each member dyes when they haue lost their head. 
 Had hee bin dead, I should not now bin I. 
 He liues, I liue, his life is life to mee. 
 Had hee bin dead, dead should I also bee. 768 
 
Me enjoys the Common Air. 239 
 
 Mena. — Alas ! let not vaine hope my hart heguile. 
 
 Thou flatterest mee ; how shall I trust myne eyes ? 
 
 Let not vayne hope reuiue me for a while, 
 
 But let me end my wreatched dayes w»th teares. 
 
 If ESSEX Hue, tell true, Oh ! then, liue I ! 
 
 If he be dead. Oh, then, alas ! I dye ! 774 
 
 [If. 189 bk.] 
 
 Yiat. — Why should I iest ? Hee Hues, by heauen I sweare. 
 
 Nor do r flatter thee, but tell thee troth ; 
 
 Then blest art thou, thou needst no longer feare, 
 
 And blest am I, so are wee happy boath : 
 
 Then sith suche happie newes Menalcas heare's. 
 
 Cease now to weepe, at lenght abstayne from teares. 780 
 
 Mena, — Heauens ! Earth ! O all ye powers diuine ! 
 
 Great JOVE ! what sacrifice shall please thy mynde ? 
 
 "What shaft I offer at thy Holy shryne ? 
 
 A Kydd ? A Lambe ? or ells a tender Hinde P 
 
 Great JOVE ! and hast thou heard my wofuft prayer ? 
 
 And doth my deare enioy the common Ayer ? 786 
 
 Now is the tyme that I could wish to dye, 
 
 Sith that my deare doth yet aliue remayne. 
 
 I neede not weepe, I need no longer crye, 
 
 "Why haue I wepte ? giue me my teares agayne. 
 
 Could teares doe this, I haue moe teares in store. 
 
 Then keepe them still, I will not haue them more. 792 
 
 Finis. 
 
 s 2 
 
240 
 
 a Poem mane on m Carle of (ZEiSser (fieing in 
 Disgrace toitl) Ciueene Cli?) : tip m^ f)enrp 
 Cuffe fiis ^ecretarp/ 
 
 Concerning Henry Cuffe, who was executed" with Sir Gilly 
 Merrick on March 13, 1601, less than a month after Essex 
 himself, we have the following curious details from Wotton's 
 Life, which I quote from the BeliquicB WottonianoB (London, 
 1661) : "And whereas he (Wotton) was noted ia his youth 
 to have a sharp wit, and apt to jest; that, by time, travel], 
 and conversation, was so polish'd and made usefull, that his 
 ■company seem'd to be one of the delights of mankind. _ In 
 so much, as Eobert Earl of Essex (then one of the darlings 
 of fortune and in greatest favour with Queen Elizabeth) 
 invited him first into a friendship, and after a knowledg 
 of his great abilities to be one of his Secretaries; the other 
 being Master Henry Cuffe, sometimes of Merton Colledg in 
 Oxford, and there the acquaintance of Sir Henry Wotton 
 in his youth ; Master Cuffe being then a man of no common 
 note in the University for his learning, nor after his removall 
 from thence for the great abilities of his mind, nor, indeed, for 
 the fatalness of his end." We have also the following further 
 
 1 Another copy of this poem, in Add. MS. 5495, fol. 28 bk., has this title: 
 " These verses were pend by Eobert late Earle of Essex in his first discontent- 
 ment in Tp^ moneths of July and August." Variations in this copy given in the 
 footnotes are referred to as B. Another copy is in Douce MS. 280, fol. 123, but 
 the variations are in most instances confined to ridiculous blunders. There are 
 two other copies, one in Sloane MS. 1303, fol. 71, the other in Add. MS. 15,891, 
 fol. 244 bk., the chief variations of which are given in the footnotes. See also 
 Harl. MS. 4910, fol. 167. 
 
 2 In the Tanner MS. 76, fol. 98, we have a copy of Henry Cuffe's speech at 
 his execution at Tyburn, March 13th, 160°. It consists of a series of curious 
 quibbles in the antithetical style of the period. 
 
 "Me. Cuff's Speech at his Execdtion at Tiburn. 
 
 " I am adjudged to Death for plotting a plott never acted ; and for acting an 
 Act, never by me plotted. The Law will have its course. Accusers shall be 
 heard ; Greatness must have the victory ; Scholar & Martialist (whose Valor & 
 Learning in Engld shd have priviledged, yet) in Engld must die like Dogs & be 
 hanged. To dislike this is but Folly ; to gainsay it is but Time lost ; to avoid 
 it impossible ; But to endure it manly : & to scorn it magnanimity. The Prince 
 is displeased; y® Law injurious; y* Lawyei-s uncharitable; & Death terrible. 
 But 1 ask pardon of y° prince, forgive y* Lawyer ; lieseech y* world to pardon 
 me ; & welcome Death." 
 
 To this is appended the following allusion : " A strange prediction of his un- 
 fortunate end made by aWizzard whom he consulted, 20 years before it happened." 
 
Cuffe and Wotton. 241 
 
 account of this unhappy man, about whom, whether he was 
 instigator or dupe of the plot of Essex, there does not seem to 
 be any trustworthy account. "There was among his nearest 
 attendants one Henry Cuffe, a man of secret ambitious ends of 
 his own, and of proportionate oounsells smothered under the 
 habit of a Soholler, and slubbered over with a certain rude and 
 clownish fashion, that had the semblance of integrity. This 
 Person,' not above five or six weeks before my Lords fatall 
 irruption into the City, was by the Earl's special command 
 suddainly discharged from all further attendance, or accesse unto 
 him, out of an inward displeasure then taken against his sharp 
 and importune infusions, and out of a glimmering oversight, that 
 he would prove the very instrument of his Euine. 
 
 "I must add hereunto, that about the same time my Lord 
 had received from the Countesse of Warwick (a Lady powerfull 
 in the Court), and indeed a vertuous user of her power,' the 
 best advice that I think was ever given from either sex ; That 
 when he was free from restraint, he should closely take any 
 out-lodging at Greenwich, and sometimes when the Queen went 
 abroad in a good humour (wherof she would give him notice), he 
 should come forth, and humble himselfe before Her in the field. 
 The Counsell sunk much into him, and for some days hee 
 resolved it: but in the mean time, through the intercession of 
 the Earl of Southampton, whom Cuffe had gained, he was 
 restored to my Lord's ear, and so working advantage upon his 
 disgraces, and upon the vain foundation of vulgar ,breath, which 
 hurts many good men, spun out the finall destruction of his 
 Master and himselfe, and almost of his restorer, if his pardon 
 had not been won by inches." — The Parallel, p. 31. 
 
 [Harl. MS. 69i7 (art. 32), If. 230.] 
 
 1. It was a time when sillie Bees could speake, 
 and in that tyme I was a sillie Bee, 
 who suckt on tyme, vntill my heart gan^ breake, 
 yet neuer found that tyme would favour me. 
 Of all the swarme, I onlie could not thrive, 
 yet brought I wax, and bony to the hive. 
 
 ' It is curious to note how Wotton, with the characteristic prudence which 
 had apparently served him well in many important passages of his life, speaks in 
 an off-hand and depreciatory way of a man who had at one time been his college 
 friend, and seems at a later period (while both- were in' the service of Essex) to 
 have been in very close relation with him. 
 
 2 Sloane and Add. MSS. did. 
 
242 Thou art horn to serve the Time. 
 
 2. Then thus I bussed when tyme no sap would give, 
 
 why is this blessed tyme to me soe dere ? ^ 
 sith in this tyme, the lazie drone ^ doth live, 
 the waspe, the worme, the gnat, the Butterfly, 
 mated 3 w«th greefe, I kneeled on my knees, 
 and thus complained, vnto the kinge of Bees. 
 
 3. "My leige, god graunte thy tyme may haue no* end, 
 
 and yet voutsafe to heare my plainte of tyme, 
 w/wch euery fruitles^ fly hath found a freind, 
 
 and I cast downe, while Attomyes doe Clime." * 
 The kinge replies but thus, " peace, peevish'' Bee, 
 Th' art borne to serue the tyme, the tyme not thee."' 
 
 4. " The tyme not thee," — this word dipt* short my winges, 
 
 and made me, wormelike, creepe^ that once did flie. 
 AwefuU regard, disputeth not with kinges, nf.asobkj 
 
 receaveth a repulse, not askinge whie i^" 
 
 Then from that tyme, I for a tyme^^ withdrew. 
 To feede^^ on Henbaine, Hemlock, Nettls, E,ue. 
 
 6. But from those leaves noe dram of sweet I draine, 
 theire^^ headstrong fury^* did my wittes bewitch. 
 The iuce disperste blacke blond in euery vaine, 
 for hony gall, for wax I gathered Pitch : 
 my Combe a Rift, My Hive a leafe must be, 
 Soe Changd that Bees scarce tooke me for a Bee.** 
 
 6. I worke on weedes, when moone is in the waine, 
 
 whilst all the swarme, in suneshine tast the Rose ; 
 On blacke roote*^ fearne, I sitt''' and sucke my baine, 
 whilst on the Eglentine, the rest repose : 
 
 Hauinge too much, they still repine for more, 
 And cloide w«th fulnes,'^ surflt on the store. 
 
 • SI. and Add. drye. '^ B. ones doe for " drone doth." ^ SI. In a tyme, 
 
 * Add. never for " haue no." 
 
 ' SI. whom euery fearelesse for "which euery fruitles." 
 
 " The reader will be reminded of'Shakespere's line, " Drawn with a team of 
 little atomieB." — Momeo and Juliet, act i. scene iv. 
 ' SI. foolishe. ' SI. cutt. ' B. «<oop« for " creepe." 
 
 "> Add. Receives Repulse., dares aske no Reason why. 
 
 " Add. a time I me for "I for a tyme." '* B. suoh for "feede." " SI. my, 
 " Sl.fortmie. "■ Add. and Harl. 6910 omit this verse. 
 
 '' Douce MS. woH-fearne. " Sl./«)"«« he I seeke for " root fearne I sitt." 
 
 '" SI. suieetenesse. 
 
The Caterpillars. 243 
 
 7. Swolne fatt with feastes, full merelie they passe, 
 
 in sweetned^ Clustres they^ fallinge from the Tree, 
 Where findinge me to nibble on the grasse, 
 
 some scorne, some muse, and some doe pittie me : 
 And some^ envy and whisper to the kinge. 
 Some must be still, and some must haue no sting.* 
 
 8. Are Bees waxt waspes or spiders to infecte ?^ 
 
 doe hony bowelles make the sperit gaUe ? [if. 231.] 
 
 Is this the ioyce® of flowers to stirr^ suspecte? 
 
 1st not enough to treade on them that fall ? 
 
 Wha,t stinge hath patience, but a sigheing greefe. 
 That stinges naught but it-selfe without Releife P 
 
 9. True patience the^ provender of fooles, 
 
 Sad patience that waiteth at^ the dore. 
 Patience that leames, thus to conclude in schooles. 
 Patience 1° I am, therefore I must be poore : 
 
 Greate kinge of Bees, that rightest euery wronge, 
 Listen to Patience in her dyinge songe. 
 
 10. I Cannot feed on Fennell,^^ like some flies, 
 
 nor fly to euery flower to gather gaine ; 
 myne appetite weites on my princes eies 
 
 Contented with Contempte, and pleasd wj'th Paine ; 
 And yet^^ expectinge of ^^ an happie hower. 
 When he^* shall saie, this Bee shall suck a flower. 
 
 11. Of all the greefes that moves my patience great, 
 
 there is one that fretteth in the highest degree, 
 To see some Caterpillers bred vp^^ of late,'^ 
 
 Croppinge the fruite^^ that should sustaine the Bee : 
 yet smiled I, for that the wisest knowes. 
 That mothes doe fret^^ the cloth. Cankers the Rose. 
 
 1 B. sweetest for "sweetned." 
 
 2 SI. swarmes and clmters for "sweetned clustres they." Add. sweltned clusters 
 falling on a tree. ' SI. some me for " some." 
 
 * Dowae "MS. nothinge. ^ Add. ffl^ic^ for " infecte." ^ SI. Juice. 
 
 ' B. staie for " stirr." » SI. is fitt for « the." 
 
 ' SI. wateheth still and keepes for "that waiteth at." 
 
 "> B. Patient for "Patience." " SI. Eemlocke. '^ b_ fyme for "yet." 
 
 's SI. I still expect for "expectinge of." Add. such for "of." i* SI. shee. 
 
 15 SI. bird hredd for "hred vp." Add. and Harl. 6910 omit "\-p." 
 
 '« Referring probably to Ilaleigh or Cecil. " SI. and KAdi. flower. 
 
 '^ Douce and SI. will eate. Add, the moath the Cloth, the canker eatcs the Rose. 
 
244 Witching Tobacco. 
 
 12. Once did I see by flyinge in the feeild [if. 23i vi..} 
 Fowle beastes to browse vpon the Lylly faire ; 
 
 vertue and bewtie could no succour yeild, 
 Als prouender for asses, but the aire : 
 
 The partiall world of this takes litle heede, 
 
 To give them flowers that should on Thistles feede. 
 
 13. Tis onlie I must draine Egiptian flowers,^ 
 
 Having noe savor, bitter sapp they haue, 
 And seeke out^ rotten tombes, and^ dead men's bowers, 
 
 And* bite on Pathos^ growinge by the grave : 
 yf this I cannot haue, as haples Bee, 
 witching Tobacco, I will flie to thee ! 
 
 14. "What thoughe thou die mens longes® in deepest blacke,^ 
 
 A morninge habit suites a sable hart ! 
 What thoughe thy fumes* sound memorie doe Crack,^ 
 Forgetfulnes is fittest for my smarte ! 
 
 vertuous fvme,^" let it be carved in oke. 
 
 That wordes, hopes, wittes, and all the world is smoke ! 
 
 15. Five yeares^^ twise told, w/th promises perfumed,'^ 
 
 my hope-stuft^^ head was Cast in to a slumber; 
 Sweete dreames of gold, on dreames I then presumd, 
 And mongst the Bees thoughe'* I were in the Nomber. 
 wakinge I founde Hive,^^ '^hopes, had made me vaine, 
 twas not Tobacco stupified the braine.'^ 
 
 Finis. 
 
 ' The author was thinking of Pliny, whose " Natural History," is the great 
 authority for many of the curious heliefs of our ancestors. See bk. xxi. chap. 40, 
 " Nam et in ^gypto sine odore hseo omnia." 
 
 2 Add. the. ^ Add. ttie. 
 
 * Add. to. " B. Fotthos. Add. wormewood. Harl. 6910 nightshade. 
 ' SI. my lunffes for " mens longes." '' Add. omits the two last stanzas. 
 
 * B. />^;j<fs for "fumes." * B. te/c for " crack." '" B./«/«e for "fume." 
 " SI. tymes. '^ SI. promise vnperfor-med. 
 
 " SI. hopes iust for " hope-stuft." " B. thought for "thoughe." 
 
 " B. how for " hive." " si. inserts but. 
 
 "• Tobacco must have been a great novelty in England at this time. " Sir 
 Walter Ealeigh was the first that brought tobacco into England and into fashion. 
 . . . They had first silver pipes. The ordinary sort made use of a walnut- 
 shell and a straw. I have heard ray grandfather Lyte say, that one pipe was 
 handed from man to man round the table. Sir W. E. standing in a stand nt 
 Sir Eo. Poyntz's park, nt Acton, took a pipe of tobacco, which made the ladies 
 quit it till he had done." — Aubrey. 
 
245 
 
 [Tanner MS. 306, fol. I92r.] 
 
 (ZElegp on t^c aE[atl] of esmv. 
 
 Concerning tlie authorship of this poem I am unable to furnish 
 any information. 
 
 England, now lament in teares ; 
 
 in teares lament the dismall fall 
 
 of an heroick english peere, 
 
 as euer liu'd or euer shall, 
 
 whose soule so sweet doth rest on high, 
 
 to line With christ eternally. 6 
 
 His neuer dying fame remaines, 
 
 although his bodies clad in Clay ; 
 
 with angels blest his soule it raines 
 
 in Joyes that neuer shall decay : 
 
 his vertuous life deserues to be 
 
 carud out in oke for men to see. 12 
 
 ffor by his hand our clime got fame, 
 
 by Essex helpe much gould we gaind,^ 
 
 and by his force our foes were tamd, 
 
 for in his hart trew valor raind : 
 
 his hand, helpe, force, and vertuous hart, 
 
 hath bred our weale, and causd owr smart. 18 
 
 ffor whilst he liud owr weale was bread, 
 
 so was his death owr cause of mone. 
 
 by whom shall souldiers now be led, 
 
 syth that theer Captaynes dead and gone ? 
 
 With teares they do his dath deplore, 
 
 but teares cannot his life restore. 24 
 
 Poetes all, leaue of to penne 
 
 ffond trillinge toyes of Loues delight. 
 
 And frame jour wittes t' advaunce such men 
 
 as Devorax, that worthy wight ! 
 
 In polisht poemes sounde his prayse, 
 
 To Crowne jout heades w«th lawrell bayes. 30 
 
 ' Alluding to the capture of the ships on the expedition to Cadiz and the 
 Island voyage. For the abundance of the plunder see Lingard, vi. 276. 
 
246 The Victory, at Cales. 
 
 Learninge he healde in great regarde,' 
 
 Because therin none coulde him reache, 
 
 And schoUers paynes he would rewarde ; 
 
 And such as did the gospell preaohe 
 
 He reverenste still ; vnhappy we, 
 
 That lost soe soone his companye ! 36 
 
 A second Marce he was of myghte, 
 
 Appellees witt ador[n]ed his minde, 
 
 Noe pen was able to recite 
 
 The gistes* of god to him assynde ; 
 
 But envye, that foule monstrous feynde, 
 
 Hath broughte to death true vertues frynde. 42 
 
 The Spaniarde prowde can well reporte 
 
 The deeds of armes that he hath done ; 
 
 So witnesse canne theyr battered forte ; 
 
 And stately Cales ^ he manly wone, 
 
 And in despight of Spanishe pride, 
 
 Eyght dayes he did therin abide. 48 
 
 To see of Philippe wo[uld] re[deeme] 
 
 His conquered towne [with gold] of [Spayne], 
 
 But when he saw his light esteeme. 
 
 The towne on fyre he settes araayne ; 
 
 But to his men strayght Charge he gave, 
 
 That Mayds & Wiues noe hurte should have.* 54 
 
 Wherin his mercy macht his mighte, 
 
 true Vertues giuen him from aboue, 
 
 Rich natures giftes on him were dighte, 
 
 Whiche drawe from men both feare & loue. 
 
 A moses mild in towne was hee ; 
 
 In feyld forre Samson deemed to be. 60 
 
 Two stately shippes^ he lickwise wone. 
 And Englands armes on them advanced, 
 
 ' With reference to his manner towards his dependents, Macaulay says that 
 Essex " conducted himself with a delicacy such as has rarely been found in any 
 other patron. Unlike the vulgar herd of benefactors, he desired to inspire, not 
 gratitude, but affection. He tried to make those whom he befriended feel to- 
 wards him as towards an equal." The Queen appears to have been irritated by 
 the amount of sermonizing in favour of Essex, which was practised by zealous 
 clergymen. ' =gestes. 
 
 8 Cadiz, frequently so called in old poetry. See the ballad in Percy's Eeliques. 
 
 * I have already alluded to the strict discipline maintained by Essex in his army. 
 
 " Two of the largest, the St. Matthew and St. Andrew, with an argosy, were 
 taken. — Lingard vi. 275. 
 
Don Antonio. 247 
 
 Which. Cesars actes, when he had done, 
 
 Into the deepe he forthwith lancste ; 
 
 Hoystinge vp sayles to Cutte the streames 
 
 That shine agaynst the sunne bright beames. 66 
 
 The fishes plaid in signe of Joy, 
 
 and mermaids carrold songs of glee ; 
 
 with wind the silken fluds did toye ; 
 
 and neptune chargd his tritons three : 
 
 for his returne the trumps to sound, 
 
 With ekkoing noyse they did abound. 72 
 
 His Cullers he hath spred in franco, 
 
 in honor of out Royall queene ; 
 
 where death hath sat vpon his lance, 
 
 wher as in battaile he hath bin : 
 
 the papish posts he sent to hell 
 
 that did against their king rebell. 78 
 
 Eebellious t'ownes he taught to know 
 
 allegance due vnto their king, 
 
 as quene Bene,^ and other more, 
 
 with to subiection he did bring : 
 
 all franco admird this english gere 
 
 & king therof held him full dere. 84 
 
 when Don Anthonio was displaced 
 
 by Spaniards from his princly throne, 
 
 and being so by them disgracd, 
 
 to Englands queene, he made his mone. 
 
 ten thousand men she him sent, 
 
 among them, then, braue Essex went. 90 
 
 when as at Lisborn he ariud, 
 such haughty prowess he did show, 
 when at their gate his feet he draue, 
 which strook amasment to his foe : 
 
 1 Alluding to the assistance sent by Elizabeth to Henry IV. "Eene" is 
 probably Koueu, -which was invested by the Earl of Essex, assisted by some French 
 troops, in 1591. Don Antonio was an illegitimate nephew of Henry, King of 
 Portugal, and a pretender to the throne. The expedition, commenced by Drake 
 and Sir John Norris, and afterwards joined by Essex, was a failure. Sickness 
 was very rife among' the English : the Portuguese viewed the pretensions of Don 
 Antonio with contempt, and the expedition returned to England with less than 
 half of its original numbers. 
 
248 Essex at Lisbon. 
 
 During the^V prowess to proue in figbt, 
 
 Anthonio was their king by right. , 96 
 
 " [op]en y[our] gates^ therefore," quoth he, 
 
 " and entertains with Jpy your king, 
 
 your fo[rm]er faults forgotten be ; 
 
 from him I do yowr pardon bring. 
 
 o doe not then your King depose, 
 
 that holds you deare and hates your foes." 102 
 
 But at his words they sett but light, 
 
 discharging shot at him amaine ; 
 
 yet ner dismayed owr english knight 
 
 but valiantly did still remaine : 
 
 drawing his poniard from his side, 
 
 wheron a silken scarfe he tide, 108 
 
 And on their gate he lefte the same, 
 
 returning to his Company : 
 
 which, deeds be eternized by fame 
 
 for noble acts of Oheualry. 
 
 Spaine, franco and portingall did feele 
 
 his fauchions force of tempred Steele. 114 
 
 As Phoebus brightnesse far exceeds 
 
 ech twinkling star and Lunas light, 
 
 so much and more did Essex deeds, 
 
 beyond all other shine far bright ; 
 
 what should I sale, god to him gaue 
 
 all vertuous gifts that man might haue. 120 
 
 when tilt and barriers force were scene, 
 
 sweet Deuorax still great honor wonn ; 
 
 for Courtiers weale and Englands queene, 
 
 ther were no dangers he would shun : 
 
 but dead he is, why should we mone ? 
 
 yes, bycause he died so soone ! 126 
 
 Long since was Alexander kild, 
 
 and haniball did feele like paine, 
 
 Pompeus, penis,! hoQi were spoyled^ 
 
 & scipio, Oirus, Cesar slain e : 
 
 in vertu and valor thes had part, 
 
 yet subiect vnto deaths black dart. 132 
 
 ' f Pyrrhus. 
 
His Death. 249 
 
 Within the tower he lost his head, 
 
 in view of many noble pares : 
 
 which on there harts great sorrow bread, 
 
 and from their eyes ran perles teares. 
 
 on skaffould then ariued he, 
 
 attild in black, w«th prelats three. 138 
 
 Yayling his hat,^ the lords to greet, 
 
 his velvet gowne he then layd by, 
 
 and spake to [them] theise words so sweet : 
 
 " my f rends that come to see me die, 
 
 to god his glory I confesse, 
 
 my sinnes, like sands, ar numberles. 144 
 
 " yet papist haue I neuer bin, 
 
 and Athisme still I did disdaine ; 
 
 I neuer wrongd my Royall queene, 
 
 but prayd to god for her long Rayne : 
 
 and god w«th shame confound them all, 
 
 that seche to worke her graces fall ! " 150 
 
 Then for the Counsell prayed he, 
 
 and for the Clergy of the land, 
 
 and for the pore comunalty, 
 
 that long in peace their weale might stand ; 
 
 then privatly his prayers he sayd, 
 
 desiring god of heuenly ayd. 156 
 
 Then headsman humbly on his knee, 
 
 be[gged] for his death forgiuen to be ; 
 
 " with all my hart I pardon thee, 
 
 and welkome, frend, thin act to me ; 
 
 & when thou seest me spread my handes, 
 
 vnto the taske see that thou standst." 162 
 
 then •with, thes wordes his life had end, 
 
 after on block his head was layd : 
 
 " sweet Christ, from heuen thy angels send, 
 
 my soule by them to be conveyd 
 
 Vnto thy throune of maiesty, 
 
 to line in blise eternally." 168 
 
 , finis. 
 
 • This description of the conduct of Essex at his execution exactly corresponds 
 with the account given in the narratives of eye-witnesses, now for the first time 
 published, ante, pp. 208-213. 
 
250 
 
 [Harl. MS. 6910, If. 161.] 
 
 [JRofiert Carle of m^tx ammt ^k asialter 
 iRatoleigf).] 
 
 Hbrk we have another lamentation over the malice of the enemies 
 of Essex. The " Cuckoo " may be easily identified, and is surely 
 an allusion to Ealeigh. Another copy of this poem is found in 
 Add. MS. 6495, fol. 28, from which the above title and some 
 variations are given. 
 
 Muses no more, but Mazes ^ be jour names, 
 Where Discord* sound shaft marre your Concorde sweete, 
 Vnkyndly now your carefutt fancye frames, 
 When fortune treads yoMr fauours vnder feete : 
 But foule befalle that cursed Cuckoes throt, 
 That soe hath crost sweet Fhilomelaes note ! 6 
 
 And aft vnhappie hatched was that bird, 
 
 That pa^ret-like can never cease to prate ; 
 
 But most vntymely spoken was that word. 
 
 That brought the world in such a woefuft state, 
 That Lowe and Likeing quite are ouerthrowne. 
 And in their place are hate^ and sorrowes growne.* 12 
 
 Is this the Honoure of a Haughtie thought, 
 For Louers hap to haue all spight a Loue P 
 Hath wreached: skill thus blinded reason taught, 
 In this conceipt such discontent to mooue ? 
 
 That Beautie so is of her selfe berefte, 
 
 That no good hope of ought good hap is lefte ?^ 18 
 
 Oh let no Phoenix looke vpon a Crowe, 
 Nor daintye Hills bow downe to dirtye dales ; 
 Let neuer Heauen an Hellish Humour knowe, 
 Nor firme affect^ give eare to fooUish tales : 
 
 For this in fyne wift fall to be the troth, 
 
 That pudle'' watter makes vnholsome broth. 24 
 
 Woe to the worlde, the sonne is in a clowde, 
 
 And darksome mists^ doth ouerrunne the day, 
 
 In Hope^ conceipte is not content" allow'd, 
 
 Fauour must dye and fancye weare awaye : [isi bk.] 
 
 ' Add. j'!^a>-2«s for " Mazes." * mjAom rfwcorrfs for " where discord." 
 
 ' is greife for "are hate." * sowm for "growne. " Add. omits this stanza. 
 • aspect for " affect." ' JiltMj for " pudle." 8 ^i^t foj. « mists." 
 
 » high for "hope." '" content is best for "is not content." 
 
Poor I must suffer. 251 
 
 Oh Heauens what^ Hett ! The bands of Loue are broken, 
 Nor must a thought^ of such a thing^ be spoken. 30 
 
 Mars must become a Coward in his mynde, 
 "Whiles Yulcan stands to prate of Yenus toyes : 
 Beautie must seeme to go against her kinde, 
 In crossing Nature in her sweetest ioyes : 
 But Oh ! no more, it is to much to thinke, 
 So pure a mouth should puddle watters drinke ! 36 
 
 But since the world is at this woefutt passe. 
 
 Let Loues submission Honours wrath apease ; 
 
 Let not an Horse be matched with an Asse, 
 
 Nor hatefutt tongue an happie hart disease : 
 So shaft the world commend a* sweet conceipt, 
 And Humble fayth on heauenly Honour waite. 
 
 finis. Comes Essex. 42 
 
 [MS. Bibl. Reg. 17 B. l. leaf 2.]« 
 
 Fet0e0 mane 6p t&c (Earle of <Bmzx in W CrouOIe. 
 
 Essex here laments the unmanageable character of the Queen, or 
 is represented as so doing. 
 
 The waies on earth haue paths and turnings knowne, 
 
 The waies on Sea are gone by needles light, 
 
 The birds of th' aire the nearest way have flowne, 
 
 And Tnder earth the moules do cast aright : 4 
 
 A way more hard then these I needs must take, 
 
 where none can teach, nor noe man can direct, 
 
 where noe mans good for me example makes, 
 
 But al mens^ faults doe teach her to suspect. 8 
 
 Her thoughts and myne such disproportion haue ; 
 All strength of loue is infinite in mee ; 
 She vseth the aduantage tyme and fortune gaue 
 Of worth and power, to gett the libertie. 
 Earth, Sea, Heaven, Hell, are subiect vnto lawes ; 
 But I, poore I, must suffer, and knowe noe cause. 14 
 
 E:E:E: 
 
 ' Add. oh for " what." * word for " thought." 
 
 ' iAoM^Ai for " thing." * your iox " aJ" 
 
 " There is another copy of these verses, with little or no variation, in Sloans 
 MS. 4128, fol. lib. ^ MS, nens. 
 
252 
 
 [Add. MS. 16,226, If. 6J.I 
 
 C&e nisparingc complaintc of inretc&eD Jaatoleigi^e 
 for i)is treacheries toroug&t nQainst ttt toor^ie 
 (iBsser. 
 
 Fo"R allusions to the hostilities prevailing between Ealeigh and 
 Essex, see pages 30 and 197. Cuffe is said to have urged Essex 
 to remove Cecil, Cobham, and Ealeigh from the Queen's Councils 
 at whatever cost. This poem, which is anonymous, must have 
 been written by a great admirer of the unfortunate Earl — and he 
 had many. 
 
 To whome shall cursed I my case complame, 
 
 to moue some pittye of my wretchles state ? 
 
 for thoughe noe other comfort dothe remaine, 
 
 yet pittye would my greife extenuate. 
 
 but oh ! I haue deserued nought but hate, 
 For I towards Grod & man my-self abused, 
 & therefore am of god & man refused. 7 
 
 To heauen I dare not lifte my wretched eies, 
 nor aske God pardon for my wicked deeds ; 
 for I his word & service did despise, 
 esteeminge them of noe more worthe then weeds ; 
 from which most vile conceite theise woes proceeds. 
 For now I iinde, & iindinge, feare to rue, 
 theire is a god •which, is both iust & true. 14 
 
 And vnto men I likewise am affraide 
 to make complaint, of this my gnaweinge greife, 
 Least they, as well they may, should mee vpbraide 
 w«th scorne & pride, w/wch in mee were most rife ; 
 & therefore man will yeild mee not Kelefe. 
 Thus wretched I,w/M'ch euery man did scorne, 
 am now my-self of euerie man forlorne. 21 
 
 What shall I doe in thys perplexed plighte, 
 Fearinge to moue to god or man for grace? 
 shall I to heavenly Saints my wooes recite, 
 in hope that they will moue my wretched case ? 
 noe : It is theire office and theire place 
 To iudge such guiltie sinfull soules as I, 
 and therefor noe releif may come thereby, 28 
 
A Clogged Conscience. 253 
 
 Yet one there is of that Caelestiall sorte, af.7.] 
 
 whoe sure I thincke would pitty my distresse ; 
 
 For when hee liued here, in earthly porte, 
 
 hee was the patterne of all gentlenes. 
 
 Ah ! but gainst him I greatly did tralisgresse : 
 Then, traitor vile, how canst thou hope for grace 
 from him whorae thou by treason didst displace ? 35 
 
 yes, I knowe his vertues here were such, 
 Hee did abhorre to beare revengeinge minde ; 
 and beeinge there, they bettered are by much, 
 because he lines remote from fleshlie kinde, 
 in perfect ioye to blessed Saints assigned. 
 A worthy Essex ! but for feare and shame, 
 I would invoke thy honorable name ! 42 
 
 But 'ere T can exspect Comiseracfon, 
 
 I must intreat forgiuenes hartilie ; 
 
 and 'ere forgiuenes can haue Confirmacibn, 
 
 I must confesse howe I haue iniured thee : 
 
 For it "w«th reason rightlie doth agree, 
 That such a wrongfuU wicked wretch as I 
 should first confesse, and then for pardon crye. 49 
 
 Wherefore I will my clogged conseience cleere, 
 by true confession of my treacherie. 
 That God & angells, Samts and men may heare, 
 howe I thy honor wrong'd most shamefully, 
 •wfdch. on my-selfe is lighted suddainely : 
 For this my due deserts, now falne on mee, 
 plainely declares my treason wrought gainst thee. 56 
 
 For when thy soueraigne did thee well respect, nf. 7 \>u 
 as well thou didst deserue to bee respected, 
 I then With falshood did thy truthe infect, 
 whereby her princely ludgmewt was infected, 
 and thou by her most causelessly reiected ; 
 
 Then I, which on occasion did attend, 
 
 omitted nought which might thee mee ofiend. 63 
 
 ni. I 
 
254 I Pawned my Soul. 
 
 For then with open throate I did not spare 
 
 to taxe tliy vertues most reprochfuUie ; 
 
 Thy Yallour was ambition, I would sweare ; 
 
 thy curteous bounty, hope of soueraigntie ; 
 
 thy Justice, mallice and extremitye ; 
 And thy religious vale I ofte would call 
 dissimulacion to deceaue with-all. 70 
 
 Thus with detraccion I did first assaile thee, 
 
 whoe did effect what shee did vndertake ; 
 
 Then envie wrought that nothinge might availe thee, 
 
 Though truthe thy iust Apologie did make ; 
 
 Then framed treason brought thee to the stake ; 
 That to assaile thee w«th theese furies fell, 
 I pawnd my soule to fetch them out of hell. 77 
 
 I allsoe hadd assistance in this worke, 
 
 whose helpinge hands were, in as deepe as myne, 
 
 though some of them aloof now slily lurke, 
 
 as if theire consciences were sole devine ; 
 
 yet in a league with mee they did combine 
 
 Thee to destroye by treasons pollicie, 
 
 wAich was effected to our Infamye. 84 
 
 « 
 
 But some of my Confederates in this act, [if. sj 
 
 whose dates of mischeif did weth myne expire, 
 
 are fallne w«th mee in this pretended fact, 
 
 prepar'd to paie our due deserued hire, 
 
 nowe, if it were not sinne, I would desire 
 
 That all "which, wrought w^th mee in this disgrace 
 might stand with mee in this my wretched case. 91 
 
 But what should I need doubt or stand in stare, 
 that they shall scape revenge, more bare than I ; 
 sure hee whoe hath intrapt mee in this snare 
 can traverse them in theire owne pollicie, 
 and will, noe doubt, when hee due tyme dothe see, 
 For hee will punishe everie treacherous case, 
 either in this or in a worser place. 98 
 
The Stolen Letters. 255 
 
 And therefore, thoughe they florishe for a tyme 
 
 in Grace, authoritye, and honors great, 
 
 wAich male perswade them they may easily climbe 
 
 vpp to y® highest stepp of Fortunes state, 
 
 yet is theire one whoe can theire hopes deseate, 
 
 For when they thincke themselues in highest respect 
 then suddainely hee can them soone deiect. 105 
 
 Witnes my self, whoe thought my self as sure 
 
 as anie one of my associates all ; 
 
 but now I finde treason cannott indure, 
 
 insultinge pride will likewise haue a fall, 
 
 for such offences doe for vengeance call ; 
 And hee w/wch is the remedie of wronge 
 hathe said his vengance shall not tarry longe. 112 
 
 W^ech by experience I haue found most true ; of.sbk 
 
 for in the self same kinde that I offended, 
 
 hee iustlie hath repaide to mee my due ; 
 
 his iustice therefore needs must bee comended, 
 
 wA?ch hath it-selfe soe equallie extended, 
 vsinge the meanes of my owne foule offence 
 to giue to mee a righteous recompence. ii9 
 
 For as by letters I procur'd thy bane, 
 which, of a periur'd villaine I did buye, 
 whoe for comoditie hadd stoUne the same 
 from her to whome thou sent'st them faithfully, 
 containeinge nought but truthe & modestie. 
 
 Yet I, w/?./ch knew they would thee much infest, 
 
 did spare noe cost till I hadd them possesst : 126 
 
 Soe I throughe letters, of contrarie kinde 
 
 to those of thine, am now adiudged my meed ; 
 
 for when all other promises did fayle 
 
 mee to offend in this pretended deed, 
 
 my opposites more strictlie did proceed, 
 And then a letter did gainst mee produce, 
 for w/ii'ch my cuninge lacks a cleane excuse. 133 
 
 T 2 
 
256 Cohham's Machinations. 
 
 And thus, as I by le^fers thee offended, 
 by le^^ers nowe my owne offence was provde ; 
 vile Traitowr I, that ill gainst thee intended, 
 whoe for desert I rather should haue lovde ; 
 pride, spite, & mischief thereunto me movde, 
 
 Ai^d now mee-thincks dispaire dothe mee surprize, 
 settinge thy wrongs before my wretched eyes. 140 
 
 For when I heard my-selfe exclaim'd yppon Of. 9.] 
 
 by him whose mouthe, Mastivelike, revilde thee, 
 then thought I howe I laughinge stood by one 
 whose cankred hart broke out & much defild thee, 
 and still wee laught, to thinke howe wee beguild thee. 
 
 I then did praise the barker's mouthe for spendinge ; 
 
 but now he hathe mee plaug'd for then offending. 147 
 
 And now I finde it dothe my conscience gall, 
 that wee suborn'd a Judas to betray thee ; 
 whoe tould thee, when the Counsell did thee call, 
 that I & Cobham by the waye would slaie thee ; ' 
 advisinge thee therefore for to stale thee ; 
 And thus by fraud wee forc'd thee to offend, 
 by disobayenge when the lords did send. 154 
 
 It now likewise dothe greeve mee, though too late, 
 that wee procurd thy Prince thee to imploye, 
 whilest in thy absence wee might worke thy hate, 
 by vrginge thou didst purpose to annoye 
 thy loueinge Country, & thy Prince destroye ; 
 And more, to stare her w/th that foule intent, 
 wee raised force thy comeinge to prevent. 161 
 
 But well wee knewe thy meaneing was not such, 
 thoughe wee pretended soe thee to abuse, 
 hoping thereby wee might encrease soe much 
 thy soueraignes hate that shee would quite refuse 
 to heare thee speake with truthe this to excuse ; 
 And sure wee were wee should our purpose gaine, 
 if from her presence shee would thee restraine. - 168 
 
 ' Lord Cobham, one of tlie most uncompromising enemies of Essex ; he was 
 implicated with Ealeigh in the conspiracy to place Arabella Stuart on the throne 
 at the beginning of the reign of James I., and sentenced to death, but afterwards 
 reprieved on the scaffold. 
 
The Spanish Expedition. 257 
 
 When falselie thus wee hadd the queene possest [ir.gbkj 
 w«th this conceite, that thou hadst plotted treason, 
 wee likewise then our poUicies addrest 
 to trayne thee over by some subtill reason, 
 whereof our consultations were not geason ; ' 
 For I have heard, thoughe here it may seeme grosse, 
 holy's the churche where sathan beares the crosse. 175 
 
 Then wee did blowe abroade the Prince was dead, 
 
 thinckinge thereby to further our intent ; 
 
 for then we hopt thou sure wouldst gather head, 
 
 and come with speed invasion to prevent ; 
 
 for wee before of cuninge purpose sent 
 
 That Spanish expedic«bn was in hand,^ X81 
 
 the wA?ch wee knewe thou stronglie woldst withstand. 
 
 But here our expectac«on somewhat faded, 
 because thou didst not come when wee expected, 
 nor in that manner as wee hadd persvaded ; 
 thou men'st to come when iirst thou was detected, 
 yet wee soe wrought that thou wast quite reiected. 
 
 And eke restrained of thy libertie, 
 
 the which wee labored most incessantlie. 189 
 
 Now when wee hadd o?«r wishes thus obtained, 
 we lefte noe tyme our mischeifes to devise ; 
 For then false Articles wee forged & fained, 
 wherewith wee dimm'd thy soueraignes princely eyes ; 
 and then did every one against thee rise, 
 like as a single hound by Currs ore matched, 
 once beeinge downe, by every Curre is snatched. 193 
 
 Then for Starrchamber wee did worke a-pace, nr. 10.] 
 
 pretendinge thou shouldst presentlie appeare, 
 and there by order answer face to face 
 such articles as should concerne thee neare ; 
 but this was neuer meant, the case is cleare, 
 for well wee knewe, if thou shouldst there haue spoken, 
 our knott of treacherie might haue beene broken. 203 
 
 ' scarce. — Halliwell. 
 
 2 In 1598 the Englisli were again apprehensive of a Spanish invasion. Pre- 
 parations were apparently made by the ministers of Philip III , the new ting, 
 but they ended in nothing. The kingdom wa^, however, put in a state of defence. 
 Essex was forbidden by the Queen to leave his command in Ireland : his enemies 
 were apprehensive that he might return to England to drive them from court, 
 and therefore procured the order. See Lingard, vol. vi. p. 292. 
 
258 The Ice Broken. 
 
 But wee a farre more clearer shifte devised 
 
 then that thou shouldst haue answered our obiection, 
 
 for wee procur'd thy falle to bee surmised ; 
 
 thou beeinge absent, oh vile lawes infection ! 
 
 and censured as wee hadd giuen direction ; 
 
 for wee soe wrought thy prince by subtill sawes 
 
 y* what wee willed was of more force then lawes. 210 
 
 The yce was broken, then wee grewe more bold, 
 in course of violence forward to proceed ; 
 for then all offices w^jch thou didst hould 
 wee purg'd thee of, as wee before decreed, 
 thereby more discontent in thee to breed : 
 thus when wee hadd occasion stirdd to ire, 
 wee gaue the scope y' shee might kindle fire. 217 
 
 But when wee sawe occasion, nought prevailed 
 with furious blast the fier to inflame ; 
 but as the more she wrought, the more she fayl'd, 
 because coole patience still the heat orecame ; 
 for iuce of her by grace was on the same : 
 
 wee then another stratagem devised, 
 
 by w/«'ch thou was most cuningly surpriz'd. 224 
 
 And this was slye & subtile subornaci'on, Df.iobkj 
 
 with promises of very large extent, 
 wAi'ch gain'd vs one with thee in estimac/on, 
 and in thy private favotfr resident : 
 of him wee made our workinge instrume«t, 
 thee to perswade, to gaine thy former grace, 
 by vsinge meanes thy hinderers to displace. 231 
 
 But when hee tould vs thou was well contented . 
 to line a private life, remote from care, 
 the modell of a proiect wee invented, 
 wherein hee might his loue to thee declare, 
 by giueinge helpe the state for to repaire ; 
 to wAech, when hee had gotten thy consent, 
 wee hadd our purpose & our whole intent. 238 
 
' The Confession. 259 
 
 For then wee doubted not to pricke thee on, 
 by subtill force of forged instigacfon, 
 ■w^^ch wee alreadie hadd resolued vppon-, 
 to stirre thee vpp to secrett consultacjon, 
 for resoluczon and determinacfon, 
 
 of meanes and tymes, of present execution ; 
 
 loe thus wee wrought thy vtter dissolution. 245 
 
 Yet this my true detestable Confession 
 
 is but the abstract of my yillanye ; 
 
 for I haue wrought more treacherous transgressions 
 
 against thy 'honour, truthe, & loyaltie, 
 
 then now I can recall to memorye ; 
 For -which, with sighes, all desperate of releefe, 
 I craue for pardon to aszwage my greefe. 252 
 
 And as for this offence wee nowe intended, af.nj 
 
 I doe not doubt but I shall favoier finde ; 
 
 but what can my estate bee thereby mended ? 
 
 for still I shall retaine a guiltye minde, 
 
 for -which. I can noe place of refuge finde ; 
 for every man will kill mee wj'th his eye, 
 & therefore twere most ease for mee to dye. 259 
 
 For I such Terror in my Conscience feele, 
 by thought of my most execrable deeds, 
 that [though] my hart obdurate bee as Steele, 
 yet when I thincke thereon, it quakes & bleeds, 
 such peircinge passions from them still proceeds : 
 Oh since I haue confessed then the truthe, 
 Forgiue mee, then, and pittye this my ruthe ! 266 
 
 But if thou wilt not daigne to pittye mee, 
 then must I euer pittiles remayne ; 
 for all that liues laughes at my miserie, 
 except some fewe, and they I thincke doe faigne, 
 fearinge I should theire falshood vile explaine : 
 
 Thus like a Cursed Catiffe did I line, 
 
 and now my cursed case dothe noe man greive. 273 
 
 Finis. 
 
260 
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 The following poem was probably composed by one of tKe admirers 
 of Essex, who keenly anticipates the disgrace and punishment of 
 the unfortunate Earl's rival. Ealeigh is accused of avarice, 
 pride, sensuality, and lying. The verses seem to belong to the 
 beginning of the reign of James I., when Sir Walter was im- 
 plicated in the plot for placing Arabella Stuart on the throne, 
 tried at Winchester in 1603 and found guilty. Cecil had now 
 completely shaken off Ealeigh, and the two confederates in the 
 ruin of Essex were endeavouring to supplant each other. 
 
 Many of the accusations brought against Ealeigh by the anony- 
 mous versifier are fully substantiated. He was one of the most 
 flagrant instances of the gross abuses of the system of monopolies, 
 having enjoyed a very lucrative patent for licensing the sale of 
 wine, which was subsequently augmented as a reward for his 
 services at the time of the Armada. He seems to have been 
 at all periods of his life amenable to bribes, and some of the 
 offenders implicated in the Essex affair were glad to purchase 
 his good offices by large sums of money. A Mr. Littleton is 
 said to have paid him £10,000. That his private life was 
 licentious is well known, and Aubrey quaintly assures us that 
 he was "damnable proud;" but we may perhaps be pardoned 
 for an inclination to forget these defects, when we consider the 
 gallant general,- the man of courtly and chivalrous action, the 
 scholar and poet. 
 
 If his memory pales among us, he will not be forgotten by 
 our transatlantic kinsmen. In the earlier half of the seventeenth 
 century America was the exercising ground of all the most 
 rarely attempered, the noblest and the most gallant spirits ; and 
 among them all no finer one could be found than Ealeigh. 
 
 To recapitulate the events of his life would be but to make a 
 dry catalogue of facts known to every reader. Thus much may 
 suffice. He was born in 1552 in Devonshire — one of Devon's 
 choicest worthies — and was for some time a student at Oriel 
 College, where, as Wood says, " he was worthily esteemed a 
 proficient in oratory and philosophy." He afterwards served as 
 a volunteer in France and the Netherlands ; but his most interest- 
 ing undertaking was the attempt to found a colony in Yirginia 
 in 1584 — memorable for ever as the first English settlement on 
 that continent, although the plan was not at first successful. 
 It is thus that the name of Ealeigh must be for ever associated 
 with the " Old Dominion." 
 
Biego de Qondomar. 261 
 
 His intrigues against Essex I have already spoken of. They 
 form the most discreditable passages of his life, and one would 
 willingly forget the scene of Sir Walter viewing the execution 
 of his fallen rival. After a long imprisonment, during which 
 he composed his "History of the World," he was allowed to 
 equip thirteen vessels in 1617, with a view of opening a mine 
 in Guiana; but the expedition resulted in a complete failure, and 
 his eldest son was slain at St. Thomas. On his return,' the 
 Spanish ambassador complained of the expedition to James as 
 being piratical; and the English monarch, who at that time 
 was anxious to bring about the marriage of his son with the 
 Infanta, readily sacrificed a man for whom he had never had 
 a great predilection. In a Spanish life of Diego Sarmiento 
 de Acuiia, Conde de Gondomar, the ambassador previously 
 mentioned, published at Madrid in the year 1622, we find it re- 
 corded with a flourish of triumph that he caused the head of 
 the English General, Walter Ealeigh, to be cut off (hizo cortar 
 la cabe9a al General Ingles Whaltero Bale) ; and of the same im- 
 portant individual we are told that he chastized the insolence of 
 the bold English pirate, Francisco Draques.* Whatever the 
 causes may have been, Ealeigh perished on the scaffold on the 
 29th of October, 1618. In his last moments he comported him- 
 self with much dignity. 
 
 Of his literary works his "History of the World " is now but 
 little read. It is a heavy performance, but has some fine out- 
 bursts of eloquence. Some of the poetical pieces assigned to him 
 are beautiful, and contain many of the exquisite touches peculiar 
 to the authors of the Elizabethan period ; they were, however, for 
 the most part, published anonymously, and cannot in many 
 
 ' See Howell's Epistolse Ho-Elianse, 1 645, page 6 : "Sir Walter landed at 
 Plymouth, whence he thought to make an escape, and some say he hath tampered 
 with his body by Phisicb, to make him look sickly, that he may be the more 
 pitied, and permitted to lie in his own house. Count Gondamar, the Spanish 
 Ambassador, speaks high language, and sending lately to desire audience of his 
 Maj«stie, he said he had but one word to tell him, his Majestie wondring what 
 might be delivered in one word; when he came before him, he said onely, 
 ' Pyrats ! Pyrats ! Pyrats ! ' and so departed. Tis true that he protested against 
 this Voyage before, and that it could not be but for some praedatory designe : 
 and if it be as I hear, I fear it will go very ill with Sir Walter, and that 
 Gondamar will never give him over till he hath his head off his shoulders ; 
 which may quickly be done, without any nejv Arraignment, by vertue of the old 
 Sentence that lies still dormant against him, which he could never get off by 
 Pardon, notwithstanding that he mainly laboured in it before he went ; but his 
 Majestie could never be brought to it, for he said he would keep this as a Curb 
 to hold him within the bounds of his Commission, and the good behavour." 
 
 ' See Notes and Qusries, Ist series, March 26th, 1853. 
 
262 Raleigh's Religion. ' 
 
 instances be attributed to him on tbe safest evidence. If was tlie 
 great age of miscellaneous collections, into which the rare spirits 
 showered the cornucopiae of their wits. He was probably the 
 author of the answer to Christopher Marlowe's " Come live with 
 ine," and if so, deserves a niche, be it but a small one, among 
 his great contemporaries. Moreover, he was the friend of Spenser, 
 and prophesied the glories of the " Faerie Queene." 
 
 lRatoleisf)0 Caueat to Secure Courtiers* 
 
 [From Add. MS. 15,226, fol. 11 back.] 
 
 I speake to such, if anie such there bee, 
 
 whoe are possessed, through theire princes grace, 
 with swellinge pride, scorneinge insoleucie, 
 haughtie, disdaineinge, & abuse of place : 
 To such I saie, if anie such there bee, 
 coine see theire vices punished in mee. 6 
 
 For I that am nowe as ye see abiected, 
 by lust desert of former life ill spent, 
 was sometymes of my prince as well respected 
 as anie nowe in this new Grouerment ; 
 But for I then my iaxiour misimployed, 
 I now w«th punishme??^ am much annoyed. 12 
 
 Then did I hold Religion but a Jest ; 
 
 farr more esteeminge my owne poUicie, 
 whereby I framed my accfons as a beast, 
 moved by beastlike sensuallitie. 
 
 For what my fleshly humoiws did delight. 
 
 That held I lawfull, were it wrong or right. 18 
 
 My whole endeavowr was to please my sence 
 
 with greedie avarice & fowle oppression, 
 divelishe disdaine, filthie incontinence, 
 
 & false invencjons were my cheife profession ; 
 those vices were by, mee still exercised, 
 and these haue caused mee to bee dispised. 24 
 
His Avarice. 263 
 
 And well liee dothe deserue despised to bee, [foi. 12.] 
 
 ■whose minde w«th such, corrupc/on is infected ; 
 wherefore 'twere good yow, should theire natures see, 
 that soe they male the sooner bee reiected ; 
 ffor anie one of them sufficient is 
 bothe soule & bodie to deprive of blisse. 30 
 
 First looke on Auariee, that senceless beast, 
 
 and yow shall see noe end of greedie scrapinge ; 
 for thoughe her paumch bee stopt at Middaies feast, 
 her still devouringe mouthe contynewes gapinge : 
 most wise was hee whoe did her nature fitt, 
 comparinge her to the infernall pitt. 36 
 
 If yow her reason should desire to knowe, 
 
 why beeyond reason shee dothe ritches loue ; 
 suerlie noe other reason shee could showe, 
 but Covetous desire •which dothe her move. 
 The w/«ch enforceth her soe lowd to Crye 
 ffor Riches, Riches, most incessantlye. 42 
 
 Then Riches come, and y^ith. her shee dothe bringe 
 her God, her daughters, and her servants three ; 
 her Enimies doe alsoe after flinge 
 
 whoe dothe her rnuch molest & terrifie ; 
 For Riches never doe approache alone, 
 but is by Furies fierce attended on. 48 
 
 Pluto her God dothe guide her by the hand, [foi. 12 bk.] 
 
 and dothe dispose her when hee best dothe please ; 
 her daughter, Pride, dothe swellinge on her stand, 
 whoe, w«'th sharpe prickinge, doth her much disease : 
 ffilthy excesse for more, more still cryes, 
 and ignorance dothe blinde her mothers eies. 54 
 
 Blinde Chance her servawt sometime doth availe her, 
 and some times hee by losse sore dothe wrong her ; 
 but Fraud & Vsurye doe never faile her, 
 
 but like good servanfe still doe profitt bring her : 
 Suspition, feare & greife, her enimies, 
 doe waite advantages, her to supprise. 60 
 
264 Monopolies. 
 
 Now when vile Auarice is full possest 
 
 Of riches, and this traine wMch. doth attend, 
 Shee dothe account herself not meanely blest, 
 and then to gaine a heaven she will not spend ; 
 but still dothe seeke her to increase w«th gaine, 
 by all meanes possible y/ith. busie paine. 66 
 
 For when oppression must his cunninge vse. 
 
 In Monopolies and in tr[a]nsportac2ons, 
 whereby hee manie thousands dothe abuse, 
 by sendinge that awaie to many nations 
 
 which should bee dealt for gods sake to y" poore, 
 whoe, wantinge, aske the same from doore to doore. 72 
 
 But Avarice for riches still dothe crye [toi. 13.] 
 
 Soe stronglie that the poore cannot be hard, 
 for shee hadd rather they should starue & dye 
 then shee from gettinge riches should be barred : 
 such is the nature of y' damned Spright, 
 that riches onely are her whole delighte. 78 
 
 To pleasure her oppression with his power, 
 
 Of all the meaner sorte dothe make his praye, 
 like to a wide mouthd pike, which dothe devoure 
 the smaller Fishe, which cannott gett awaye : 
 and when the Foxes skinne can take noe place, 
 then dothe oppression use the lyons Case. 84 
 
 If hee by strength of place dothe rule y® lawe, 
 and suites decrees uppon long pleaded cases, 
 then if a matter haue a craeke or fflawe, 
 Argentum must annoynt those Crazie places, 
 Whereby in tyme it growes sufficient stronge 
 to passe for cxxxxeni, bee it right or wrong. 90 
 
 And if shee bee in place of Gouerment, 
 haueinge of meaner places ouersight, 
 then such as doe not bribes to him present 
 are either pentioned or discharged quite ; 
 For avarice doth still crie out for Gaine, 
 and the oppressor dothe noe wronge refraine. 96 
 
Pride and Envy. 265 
 
 When theise vile vices hadd my coffers filld, [foi. is bk.] 
 
 my minde likewise was then filld with disdaine ; 
 hy whose approche all vertues quite were spiftd, 
 wAJch doe in mind of anie man remaine ; 
 Yet in my minde shee found but few to spill, 
 for (since it was a minde) the same^was ill. I02 
 
 This hell-hredd Monster, of fowle divelish kinde, 
 
 was gotten by proud scorne of scornefuU Fride ; 
 Nurst upp by Envie in a Cankred minde, 
 wA«ch could noe other but itselfe abide ; 
 Deformitie her nature dothe expresse 
 her nature poisones where it doth possesse. 108 
 
 Of this her nature was my minde possest, 
 and w«th her poison was I all infected, 
 the which, by me in fury was exprest, 
 
 When anie but my self I sawe respected ; 
 For were hee farr my better in degree. 
 Yet I disdaind hee should my equall bee, 114 
 
 This hateful! vice made mee see" odious seeme 
 
 that for the same I hated was of all ; 
 For as none but myselfe I did esteeme, 
 soe none there was which, did not wish my fall : 
 wherefore if this in anie of y'' bee. 
 Come, see the same now punished in mee. 120 
 
 I likewise, like a beast, much tyme did spend [foi. 14.] 
 
 in that most beastly sinne of fleshly pleasure, 
 to which with filthy minde I much did bend, 
 makinge noe spare of bodie, soule, nor treasure ; 
 For as a beast is moued still by sence, 
 soe was I moued by fowle incontinence. 126 
 
 And for I would bee exquisite herein 
 
 I vsed supernaturall devises ; 
 powders, perfumes, paintings for filthy skinnes, 
 Exttaccwns, distillactons, spiritts of spices ; 
 with theise and such like tricks I still was able 
 to trimme a hackney for the Divells stable. 132 
 
266 Flattery. 
 
 And as younge Apes doe learne by imitac/on 
 
 of elder Apes theire friskinge Apeishe toyes, 
 soe many Apes & Monkeyes vse my fashion, 
 and in the same doe places their cheifest joyes : 
 never was beast to nature so vniust, 
 as man & woman giuen to beast-like lust. 138 
 
 This sinne was my familiar recreac«on, 
 
 wherein I gloried much with shameles pride ; 
 boastinge my self of easie acceptac/on, 
 pratestinge that I neucr was denyed : 
 Ah but if this in anie of yow bee, 
 come see the same now iustly plaug'd in mee. 144 
 
 In false Invenczon likewise I excelled, Cfoi. u bk.] 
 
 with wA«'ch my Prince's eares I much abused, 
 whereby plaine truthe was oftentymes repelled, 
 and such as did prevent her were refused : 
 This sinne is onely proper to the devill, 
 then I wAich vsed the same must needs bee evill. 150 
 
 Noe toothe of beast or subtile serpente stinge 
 
 is halfe soe hurtfuU as a lyars tounge ; 
 for those but paine to outward parts do bringe, 
 w^ech male bee cured well with medicines stronge ; 
 but if a lyars tonge doe make a wound, 
 noe salue can heale the same or make it sound. 156 
 
 When smoothd toungfd flatterie with falsehood ioyne, 
 
 as seldome yow shall see them goe aparte, 
 then what the one in her false harte dothe coyne, 
 the other publisheth by subtill arte : 
 
 And such a Tincture on the same shee setts, 
 
 that of the greatest it acceptance getts. 162 
 
 Surelie if Princes rightlie wold conceiue 
 what danger lyes in fawninge flaterie, 
 how of theire sences shee doth them bereaue, 
 and how shee doth impaire royaltie, 
 
 noe doubt they would then hold it for good reason, 
 to punishe her as they would punishe treason. 168 
 
The Foul Sins. 267 
 
 For if it bee offence deservinge deathe, [m. is.] 
 
 To sett the princes shadowe on base coyne, 
 sure hee much more offends whfch with base breathe 
 vnto the princes substance vice dothe ioyne ; 
 and this dothe hee whoe makes an occupacwn, 
 his prince to humowr with base adulacjon. 174 
 
 Theise twoe united sinnes did first aduance mee, 
 
 and by theise twoe I still my state sustain'd, 
 and theise in sinne see highlie did inhance mee, 
 that for the same this mischeif I haue gain'd ; 
 wherefore if theise in anie of yo'' bee, 
 come see theise & the rest now plaug'd in mee. I8O 
 
 But do not come as Idle Gazers vse, 
 
 whoe make noe vse of what they doe behold ; 
 but come & see how God dothe mee refuse, 
 because myself to vice I wholly sould : 
 
 Soe come & see ; behould theise plauges in mee, 
 
 & fly my sinnes least pla:uged soe yow bee. I86 
 
 And doe not thinke that earthlie princes Graces 
 
 can giue ■proteccion to a life ill-spent, 
 nor doe not thinke authoritie of places 
 
 can for one hower reuerse due punishment ; 
 for neither favor nor authoritie 
 can staie God's hand from iust severitye. 192 
 
 Wherefore all yo^^whoe knowe jour selues infected [foi.isbk.] 
 
 •with these fowle sinnes w/Hch I haue now confessed, 
 see y' in tyme jour prayers bee directed, 
 & that jour wrongs comitted bee redressed ; 
 For if yo^ doe not speedily repent, 
 bee sure yo^ shall reoeaue iust punishment. 193 
 
 bee not deceiued by value imaginace'on 
 
 of Gods remisse, forgetfuUnes of wronge, 
 for hee sometymes vse procrastinaceon. 
 
 Yet will hee not deferre his comOTeinge longe ; 
 
 For when mans sinfuU measures overfrothe, 203 
 
 then powers he forthe his measures filled w?'th wrothe. 
 
268 A Warning. 
 
 Soe measure iust for measure shall yo"' haue, 
 
 if still wj'thout remorse y'' doe offend ; 
 and therefore if yo'' hope your selues to saue, 
 leaue of in time & seeke yowr Hues to mend : 
 
 but if yo'' still contynewe in yoMr sinninge, 209 
 
 then shall jour ende paie deare for jour beginninge. 
 
 And do not hould this my advice for vaine, 
 
 because yo" knowe mee vaine wA«ch doth advise yo^ ; 
 but rather doe thereby jour vice refraine, 
 
 least for the same both God & man despise yo'' ; 
 
 For thoughe my owne confession proue me evill, 215 
 Yet truth hath some time come even from the divell. 
 
 And therefore since wtth truthe yo^ nowe are warn'd,[foi. le.] 
 thoughe from a mouthe that truthe hathe seldome vsed, 
 Yet speakinge truthe let not the same be scorn'd, 
 but lett the cause thereof bee well joerused ; 
 
 And yo^ shall find that Grod dothe soe ordaine it 
 
 for yowr behalf, if yo^ can entertaine it. 222 
 
 But if yow willfully advice refuse, 
 
 and, like as I did, growe from ill to worse ; 
 then looke what paymewt God to mee dothe vse, 
 such or the like hee will to yo'" disburse ; 
 For if my warninge cannott now advise yo^, 
 my punishme«t shall shortlie then surprize yo''. 228 
 
 Finis. 
 
269 
 
 [Lansdowne MS. 777, leaf 64. Variations given from another copy in 
 Harl. MS. 791, leaf 49.] 
 
 m %' ma. iRaleigfj's K>mW 
 
 Great heart, who taught thee po^ to dye, 
 
 Death yeelding thee y*' victory ? 
 
 where^ took'st thou leaue of life ? if there, 
 
 How couldst thou be so free from feare ? 4 
 
 But sure thou didst,* & quitd'st y^ state ^ 
 
 Of Flesh & blood before y' Fate., 
 
 Else what a myracle is wrought 
 
 To tryumph both in^ flesh & thought ? 8 
 
 I saw in euery^ stander by 
 
 Pale Death ! life onelye in thine eye. 
 
 The Legacy thou gau'st vs y", 
 
 wee'U sue for when thou dyest agen, 12 
 
 Farwell; y"" glory truth shall says'' 
 
 wee dyde, thou onelye liu'dst y* daye. 14 
 
 ' This piece has been already printed. See Hannah's " Courtly Poets," 
 1870. A copy occurs among the Eawlinsonian MSS. 699, p. 35, and also among 
 the Hawthornden MSS., vol. viii. 
 
 2 Harl. thus /or so. ' ' Vfhen/oi- where. * died'st. 
 
 ^ over /or both in. « all the/or euery. 
 
 ' For truth shall to thy glory say,/o?- line 13. 
 
 III. 
 
270 
 
 LORD BACON. 
 
 The following lines are said to have been written by Dr. Lewis,' 
 one of Bacon's chaplains, whom he afterwards caused to be 
 made head of Oriel College at Oxford when a very young 
 man, "not caring," he said, "for minority of years where 
 there was majority of parts." The appointment, however, 
 does not appear to have been a fortunate one, for he got 
 into some scandal, and had to give it up. The verses relate 
 to the fall of the " wisest, meanest of mankind," as Pope 
 has it, in 1621, when Bacon was prostrate in the dust. 
 Of course every one who wishes to read the life of this in- 
 tellectually great man must go to the exhaustive work of Mr. 
 Spedding, which is a Krrjfia et? aei for everything connected 
 with him ; nor will the glowing rhetoric of Macaulay ever want 
 its readers, although the study may not be so profound a one. 
 All encomium upon Bacon as philosopher, essayist, and historian 
 is idle : the pathetic words of his will, when he bequeathed his 
 memory to foreign nations, and to his own countrymen when 
 some generations were passed, have been amply fulfilled : he 
 now stands a statuesque and colossal figure for all time. Those 
 who cannot bring wits enough to fathom the depths of the 
 Novum Organum, may admire the close-wrought gold, the subtle 
 analysis, the delicate antithesis of the essays, or pause with 
 delight upon the quaint reflections teeming with worldly wisdom 
 introduced so copiously among his historical works — more 
 neglected, but most unjustly so. 
 
 Three other copies of this poem are found in the British 
 Museum : Sloane MS. 1792, leaf 109; Add. MS. 29,303, leaf 36.; 
 and Add. MS. 25,303, leaf 83, referred to for the various read- 
 ings as V. X. and Z. There is also another among the Jackson 
 MSS.. presented to the University of Edinburgh by Mr. Halliwell 
 (p. 82), thus headed : " In laudem Francisci Baconis olim totius 
 AnglisB cancellar." 
 
 ' Dr. 'William Lewis, Provost of Oriel College (1 618-1621). He resigned, and 
 died at an advanced age in 1667. — See Gutch, History of Colleges anil Sails of 
 Oxford, 1781. 
 
271 
 
 ^oh JLetois, bis foolisf) intiectiue against tf)z 
 l^arlament for proceeDingc to censure &is 
 JLo^ Ferulame.' 
 
 [Sloane MS. 826, leaves 4, 6, 8 : title from Add. MS. 25,303.] 
 
 When you awake, dull Brittons, and behould 
 
 "What treasure you haue throwne into your ' mould ; 
 
 Your ignorance in pruming^ of a state 
 
 You shall confesse, and shall* your rashnes liate : 4 
 
 For in your^ senceles furie you haue slaine 
 
 A man, as farre beyound your^ spungie braine 
 
 Of common knowledge, as is'' heaven from hell 
 
 And yet^ you tryvmph, thinke you haue done well. 8 
 
 Oh, that the monster multitude should sit^ 
 
 In place of iustice, reason, conscience, witte, 
 
 Nay in a^" throne or^" spbeare above them all ! 
 
 For tis a supreame power that can call 12 
 
 All these to barre : ^^ and weth a frowning brow, 
 
 Make Senatours, nay mightie Consults bow. 
 
 Bould Plebeans, the day will come I know 
 
 When such a^^ Cato, such a'^ Cicero, 16 
 
 Shalbe more worth '^ then the first borne ^* can be 
 
 Of all your auncestours, or posteritie. 
 
 But hees not dead you^^ say : oh, that^^ the soule 
 
 Once checkt, controwld, that once^'' vsed to controwle, 20 
 
 ' X. has, instead of this title, the following : " Certen verses made in the 
 behalfe of S'' Francis Bacon, whoe was Lorde Keeper of Englande Anno 1620 ; 
 but then put off by the Parlemeut howese for some occations to me vuknowen." 
 V. has only " On Sir Francis Bacon." 
 
 * V. this; X. and Z. the /or your. ' V. and X. praving; Z. pruning. 
 
 * X. and Z. that for shall. * V. X. and Z. a/or your. 
 ' v. X. and Z. the /or your. ' V. omits is. 
 
 8 X. omits yet; Z. has tryumphinge /or you tryvmph. 
 
 ' A marginal note in Add. MS, 29,303 to lines 9-13 says, " The maker hereof was 
 too hould in his censure, and partiall in his loue, as maye appeere by the sequell." 
 '" Z. the, and, /or a, or. 
 
 " V. There to the ; X. Such to the /or All ... to ; Z. has the after to. 
 " V. X. and Z. as /or a. 
 
 '2 X. and Z. worthy /or worth. '* X. omits borne. 
 
 " V. you'll /or you. '« V. X. and Z. but /or that. 
 
 " V. X.. and Z. omit once. 
 
 tT2 
 
272 Lame Nature's Work. 
 
 Cowcheth her downie wings, and scornes to flye 
 
 At any game but faire eternitie. 
 
 Each, spirit is retired to a roome, 
 
 And makes ^ his living body but a toombe ; 24 
 
 On which such^ epitaphs may well be read 
 
 As would the gazer strike^ with sorrow dead. 
 
 Oh that I could but give his worth a name [m. 4 bk.] 
 
 That if not you, your sonnes may* blush for shame ! 28 
 
 Who in arithmatick hath greatest^ skill 
 
 His good partes cannot number, yet^ his ill 
 
 Cannot be calld a number ; since tis knowne 
 
 He had but few that could be calld his owne : 32 
 
 And those in other men (even in these times) 
 
 Are often praised, and'' vertues calld, not crimes. 
 
 But as in purest^ things the smalest* spott 
 
 Is sooner found, then either staine or blott 36 
 
 In baser stuff; even so his chance was such 
 
 To haue of faults to few, of worth to much. 
 
 So by the brightnes of his owne^ cleare light 
 
 The moates he had lay open to each sight. 40 
 
 If yee would'" haue a man in all points good 
 
 You must not haue him made of flesh and bloud : 
 
 An act of Parliament you first must settle 
 
 And force dame Nature worke^' in'^ better mettle. 44 
 
 Some faults he had, no more then serve '^ to proove 
 
 He drew his line from Adam, not from Jove. 
 
 And those small staines^* nature for its''^ offence 
 
 Like moones in armorie'^ made a difference 48 
 
 Twixt him and angeSs; beeing sure'^ no other 
 
 Then markes'* to know him for their '^ younger brother. 
 
 Such spotts remooved (not to^'' prophane) he then 
 
 Might well be call'd a demie God mongst men. 52 
 
 • V. and X. made/oj- makes. ^ X. omits such. 
 
 " X. and Z. prick /or strike. * X. and Z. might /or may. 
 
 " X. omits greatest. ^ X. but /or yet. 
 
 ' X. prayses for praised and. 
 
 ^ Z. purer, poorest /or purest, smalest; X. purest /or smalest. 
 
 ° Z. noone /or owne. '" X. will /or would. 
 
 " X. to before worke. '^ V. on /or in. 
 
 " V. X. and Z. served/or serve. '* X. in before nature. 
 
 '» V. X. and Z. forced /or for its. " V. X. and Z. were before made. 
 
 " X. since /or sure. '* X. made /or markes. 
 
 " X. a. for their. 2» X, omits to. 
 
The Beasts in the Ark. 273 
 
 A diamond flawed, saphyers and rubies stained 
 
 But vndervalewed are, not^ quite disdained; 
 
 Which ^ by a file^ recoverd they become 
 
 As worthie of esteeme, yeeld no lesse summe. 66 
 
 The gardner finding once a canker growne 
 
 Upon a tree, that he hath frutefuU knowne, 
 
 Gyubs it not vp ; but w«'th a careful! hand 
 
 Opens the roote, remooves the clay or sand 60 
 
 That cawsed the* cancar, or w«th' cunning arte 
 
 Pares of some rynde, but comes not nere y^ harte. [foi. 5 ] 
 
 Only such trees y^ axes adge endure 
 
 As nere bare fruite, or else are past all cure.^ 64 
 
 The prudent husbandman thrusts not his sheare 
 
 Into his^ come because some'' weeds are there, 
 
 But takes his hooke, and gently as he may 
 
 Walke through the^ field, and takes ^ them all away. 68 
 
 A house of many roomes one^" may command. 
 
 But yet it shall require many a hand 
 
 To keepe it cleane : and if some filth be found 
 
 Grope ^1 in by'^ negligence, is't cast to th' grownde ? 72 
 
 Fie, no ; but first y^ supreame owner comes, 
 
 Examines everie office, viewes the roomes. 
 
 Makes them be clensed, and on some certaine paine 
 
 Comwiands they never be found so againe. 76 
 
 The temple else should over-throwne haue bin, 
 
 Because some money-brokers^^ were therein. 
 
 The arke had sunke and perisht in the floud. 
 
 Because some beasts crope^* in that were not good. 80 
 
 Adana had w«th a thunderbolt bin strooke. 
 
 When he from Eve the golden ^^ apple tooke. 
 
 But should the maker of ^^ mankinde doe soe, 83 
 
 Who should write Man ? who should to mans' state grow ? 
 
 Shall he be then put to th' extreame of law. 
 
 Because his conscience had a little flaw ? 86 
 
 1 V. but /or not. 2 V. Yet for Which. 
 
 3 X. and Z. toylefor file. ^ V. this/o>- the. 
 
 ^ Z. omits the next twelve lines. " X. the for his. 
 
 '' X. such for some. " X. his /or the. 
 
 9 X. pluokes/or takes ; V. pulls /or takes. " V. man after one. 
 
 1' Crept. An instance of a strong perfect, which has since been changed into 
 I weak form. ^* X. Crept in through /or Grope in by. 
 
 " X. changers /or brokers. '* X. and Z. crept /or crope. 
 
 '' Z. tempting /or golden. ^^ V. all after of. 
 
274 His Predecessor. 
 
 Will ye want conscience cleane, because y* he 
 
 Stumbled or tript' but in a small degree ? 88 
 
 No ; first looke back to all your owne past^ acts, 
 
 Then^ passe your censure, punish all the facts 
 
 By him committed : Then He sweare he shall 
 
 Confesse that you are vpright Chancellowra all : 92 
 
 And for the time to come with all his might 
 
 Strive to out doo you all in dooing right.* 
 
 Oh could his predicessours goost appeare, 
 
 And tell how foule his Master left the chaire ! ^ 96 
 
 How every feather that he satt vpon [foi. s bk.] 
 
 Infectious was, and that there was no stone 
 
 On which some contract was was^ not made to fright 
 
 The fatherlesse and widdow from their right. 100 
 
 No'' stoole, no'' boord, no'' rush, no^ bench, on which 
 
 The poore man was not sould vnto the rich. 
 
 It* would have^ longer time the roome to aire 
 
 And what yee now call foule yee would thinke fair.'" io4 
 
 He tooke to keepe (tis knowne), this but to live ; 
 
 He robd to purchace land, and this to give. 
 
 And had this'' beene so blest in his'^ owne'^ treasure, 107 
 
 He would have given much'^ more with much more pleasure. 
 
 The nights greate lampe from the rich sea will take,'* 
 
 To lend the thirstie earth,'^ and from each lake 
 
 That hath an overplus borrow a share. 
 
 Not to its proper''' vse, but to repaire H2 
 
 The rivers'* of some parcht and vp-dried hill : 
 
 So this vnconstant planet (for more ill 
 
 Envie cannot speake of him) tooke from some floud. 
 
 Not for 's owne'^ vse, but to doe^" others good. iie 
 
 ' X. and slipt/of or tript; V. and Z. slipt. ' X. and Z. passed /or owne past. 
 
 ' X. and Z. And /or Then. * Z. omits tne next ten lines. 
 
 5 " Eggertou was before him "Lord Keepec.'' Marginal note to lines 95-98, 
 in Add. MS. 29,3(13. EUesmere, Thomas Egerton, Bacon (1640-1617). To his 
 custody Essex was committed, see p. 206. ^ Sic. ' X. nor /or no. 
 
 ^ V. and X. you /or it. ' V. give /or have. '" X. would then be /or 
 
 yee would thinke. " V. nee /or this. " Z. in's /or in his. 
 
 " v. X. and Z. borne after owne. '* X. and Z. omit much. 
 
 '* Cf. Timon of Athens, act iv. scene 3 ; 
 
 " The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction 
 Hobs the vast sea : the moon's an arrant thief, 
 And her pale fire she snatches from the sun." 
 The idea, however, dilated upon in these five lines, is a very old one, and can be 
 found in the pseudo-Anaoreon. (See Bergk.) '• V. X. and Z. lande /or earth. 
 
 i' V. X. and Z. her owen /or its proper. 's y. and Z. ruines for 
 
 rivers; X. raynes, " X. his owen /or 's owne. 2° V. and X, for for to doe. 
 
Restore Charity. 275 
 
 But sucli^ misfortune dogg'd his honest will, 
 
 That what he tooke by^ wrong, he gave as ill. 
 
 For those his bountie nurst, as all suppose 
 
 (not those he iniured), proov'd his greatest foes. 120 
 
 So foolish mothers from their wiser mates 
 
 Oft filch and steale, weaken their owne estates. 
 
 To feede the humor of some wanton boy ; 
 
 They sillie women hoping to haue ioy^ 124 
 
 Of this ranke plant, when they are saplesse growne. 
 
 But seld or never hath it yet bin knowne 
 
 That pamperd youth gave parents more releefe 
 
 Then what increastd their age weth care* and greefe. 128 
 
 These^ oversights of Nature, former times [foi. e.] 
 
 Have rather pittied then condem'd as crimes. 
 
 Then wher is charitie become of late ? 
 
 Is her place begg'd ? her office given ^ Hate ? 132 
 
 Is their a pattent got for her restrainte ? 
 
 Or a'' Monopoly gain'd by false complaint ? 
 
 If so, pursue the patentees, for sure 
 
 False information did the writt procure : 136 
 
 The seale is counterfeict, the referrees 
 
 Have taken bribes : then first examine these, 
 
 Restore faire Charitie to her place againe, 
 
 And he that suffers now may then complaine : 140 
 
 Set her at Justice feete, then^ let the poize 
 
 By them directed be, and not by noise. 
 
 Let them his merritts weigh ^ with his offence, 
 
 And you shall finde a mightie difference. 144 
 
 Ease not a goodly building for a toy : 
 
 Tis better to repaire then to destroy. 
 
 You will not force his ashes to y^ vrne, 
 
 Tush, thats not''' it ; himself e, himselfe will burne. 148 
 
 When he but findes his honour sound retreate 
 
 Like a cag'd foule, himselfe to death will beate : 
 
 And leave the world when thers no healpe at all' 
 
 To sight and greeve for^^ his vntimely falL 152 
 
 ' X. since /or such. ' X. and Z. with /or by. 
 
 ' X. iuioye for haue ioy. * V. and X. payne for care. 
 
 » X. This /or These. 
 
 ^ X. turned to for given ; V. and Z. to after given. 
 
 ' V. X. and Z. omit a. ' V. X. and Z. and /or then. 
 
 ' X. Wright /or weigh. i" Z. omits not. " Z. at /or for. 
 
276 Bo not cut off the Limb. 
 
 The skilMl surgeon cutts not of a limme 
 
 Whilst there is hope : oh deale you^ so w»th him ! 
 
 He wants not fortitude, but can endure 
 
 Cutting, incision, so they promise cure ; 156 
 
 Nay more, shew him but^ where the ey-sore stands. 
 
 And he wilP search and drest w«th his owne hands. 
 
 Would yee anotomize ? would ye desect [leaf 8 bk.] 
 
 For your experiment ? oh, yee may elect leo 
 
 Out of that house where yee as Judges sit,* 
 
 Diverse for execution far more fitt ;* 
 
 And when ye finde a monster overgrowne^ 
 
 Wj'th foule^ corruption,'let him be throwne 164 
 
 At Justice feete, let him be sacrifiz'd. 
 
 And lef new tortures, new plagues be devised : 
 
 Such as may fright the living from their* crimes 
 
 And be a president to^ after times ; 168 
 
 Whicb long-lived records to enseuing dales 
 
 Shall still proclaime, to your^" eternall praise." 170 
 
 ' X. not for you; V. and Z so then /or you so. 
 ' X. omits tut. 3 y. x. and Z. shall /oj- will. 
 
 * X. reverses these two lines. 
 " v. farr oregrowne/o»' OTergrowne. 
 " X. frayle/o»- foule. 
 
 ' v. and X. there he after let, omit be before devised ; Z. the same, but omits 
 and. 
 3 v. like for their ; X. and Z. such /or their. 
 
 9 V. X. and Z. for /or to. "> Z. his /or your. 
 
 " Add. MS. 25,303 has Ihe following lines appended by way of comment on 
 the poem (leaf 86) : 
 
 Blame not the Poet, though he make such moane 
 
 For's Lord, since in his case he pleads his owne ; 
 
 if yt his Lord must such sharpe censure haue, 
 
 what then must hee yt was soe very a knaue ? • i 
 
 yet as his faultes were more, so may we say 
 
 his witts weare, for he quickely run away. 
 
 Like to the man that saw his Master kisse 
 
 y* Poopes foote, feard yt a worse place was his, — 8 
 
 may y^ Lords cure succeede his punishment, 
 
 and iustioe him oretake that it ore went ; 
 
 Though scapd his first, he stay till y^ last doome, 
 
 and cry Let Mr (sic) alone till )t day come. 12 
 
Latin Verses on Bacon. 277 
 
 The following Verses on Bacon are printed in vol. i. p. 469, of "Prince Charles 
 and the Spanish Marriage," hy S. E. Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner says : — 
 
 " The following verses are valuable as giving an idea of the mode in which 
 Bacon's case was regarded by a not unfavourable looker on." 
 
 Vicecomes Sanctus Albanus Cancellarius Anglicanus 
 Miris dotibus imbutus, ingeniosus et acutus. 
 Lingua nemini secundus (ah ! si esset manu mundus) 
 Eloquens et literatus repetundanim accusatus i 
 
 Accusatus baud convictus (utinam baud rithmus fictus) 
 Tanquam passer plumbo ictus est segrotus, aut sic dictus, 
 Morte precor moriatur reus antequam damnatur, 
 Morte dice naturali ; (munus, nou est poena tali), 8 
 
 Ab amico accusatus ; miser tu, at es ingratus. 
 Actseon tu propriis manibus, praeda facta tuis canibus 
 Pereant canes hi latrantes te famamque vulnerantes. ■ 
 Tua sors est deploranda, quid si culpa perdonata, 1 2 
 
 Fama est per orbem flata quod sigilla sunt sublata. 
 Mali serael accusatus, et si poena liberatus, 
 
 Manet malum et reatus, absit hie sit tuus status. 16 
 
 Vive tu, si vitam cupis, vita cara ursis, lupis, 
 Et si quid fecisti male, redime e»bene vale. 17 
 
 — State Papers, Domestic, vol. cxx. 39. 
 
 [Harl. MS. 6038, leaf 27.]i 
 
 Uei0ea matie bg an bnftnotane autjjor tipon tlje falle of S"^ JFranc20 
 3Sacon Hotti Uerulam, biacounte @t, aibona ^ Cate lotti 
 CJjauncelor of (ZEnglanDe.^ 
 
 Great Verulam is very-lame, the gout of go-out feeling, 
 
 he humbly begs y^ Crutch of State, with falling sicknes reeling : 
 
 diseas'd, displeas'd, greiues sore to see * that State by fate should perish ; 
 
 Unhappy, that no hap ' can cure, nor high protection cherish : 4 
 
 Yet cauMot I but marvaile much at this in Common reason, 
 
 yt Bacon should neglected be when it is most in season. 
 
 perhaps y® game * of Buck hath vilified ' y^ Boare ; 
 
 or else his Crescents are in wa* ^ yt he can hunt ' ho more. 8 
 
 be it wAat it will, the Relatiue your Antecedent moving, 
 
 declines a Case Accusatiue, the Datiue too much loving. 
 
 Young, this griefe will make thee Old, for care with youth ill matches. 
 
 Sorrow makes Mutas muse ; that Eatcheus i" under hatches. 12 
 
 Bushell wants by halfe a pecke the measure of such teares, 
 
 because his Lords posteriors makes the " buttons yt he weares. 
 
 Though Edney be casheir'd, greife moues him to compassion, 
 
 to thinke how'^ suddenly is turn'd'^ the wheele of his ambition. 16 
 
 1 Other copies of this poem are found in Harl. MS. 367, leaf 137, and Harl. MS. 1221, 
 leaf 806. ; the variations in which are here given, and referred to as B., A. respectively. 
 
 2 This heading is found in Harl. MS. 367 only. 
 
 3 B. or /or of. * B. greeueth scare /or greiues sore to see, 
 * B. hope /or hap. 6 B. grace /or game. 
 
 ' B. doth vilifl /or hath vilified. 8 b. vaine /or war. ^ B. hurte /or hunt, 
 
 i" A. Katohcrsj B. Hatchers. " B. omits Vob. 
 
 " B. that fate should bripge so lowe /or how . . . tum'd. 
 
278 Verses by Bacon. 
 
 had Butler liu'd he-ad vext a ^ greiu'd this dismall day' to see 
 
 the hogshead yt so late was broach'd, to run so neere the [lee]. 
 
 Fletcher may go feather bolts for such as quickly shoot them ; 
 
 Now Cookins Combe is newly cut, a man may soone confute him. 20 
 
 The red '-rose house lamenteth much yt this unhappy* day 
 
 Should bring this fall of ^ leafe in March before the spring in May. 
 
 Albones much ' condoles the losse of this great viscounts Charter, 
 
 Who suffering for his conscience sake is turn'd Franciscan Martir. 24 
 
 [Boyal MS. 17 B. L., leaf 2 back.] 
 
 Feraes matie fig jSlr. jfra. 93acon.' 
 
 The man of life vpright whose giltles heart is free 
 
 From all dishonest deeds and thoughts of Vanitie ; 
 
 The man whose silent dales in harmeles ioyes are spent, 
 
 Whome hopes cannot delude, nor fortune discontent : 4 
 
 That man needs neither Towers nor Armor for defence. 
 
 Nor secret yaults to flie from Thunders violence ; 
 
 Hee onelie can behold with vnaffrighted eyes 
 
 The horrors of the deepe and Terrowrs of the skies : 8 
 
 Thus scorning all the care that fate or fortune bring, ^ 
 
 Hee makes the heauen his booke, his wisdome heauenlie things, 
 
 Good thoughts his onelie freinds, his life a well spent age, 
 
 The Earth his sober Inne, a quiet Pilgramage. 12 
 
 1 A. and /or a ; B. heed next have for he-ad vext a! 
 
 « B. so sudden tor for this dismall day. 3 B. whit /or red. 
 
 ♦ B. BO fatall /or vnhappy. 6 B. the fallinge leafe /or this fall of. 
 
 6 B. omits much. 
 
 ' This is printed by Mr. Spedding in his edition of Bacon's Works, vol. vii. p. 269, from 
 Boyal MS. 17 B. L. He does not mention the copy in Add. MS. 4128, which also ascribes 
 the verses to Bacon. 
 
 B Add. MS. 4128, leaf 14, has irings for bring. 
 
279 
 
 - POEMS ON WARWICK AND FROBISHER. 
 
 These verses are addressed to Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick, 
 for a brief account of wbom see page 120. He bad been sent to 
 France by Elizabeth to support the Protestants. For some notice 
 of Dr. Simon Forman and his MSS. see also p. 70. He seems 
 to have enjoyed a very dubious reputation : here we have the 
 "wizard" quitting his criminal and deleterious drugs, and be- 
 taking himself to the humbler offices of a flatterer and small- 
 beer poet. It is to be regretted that his curious diary, preserved 
 among the Ashmolean MSS., has not been entirely printed. As 
 yet only a few extracts have appeared — as, notably, the interest- 
 ing mention of the production of Macbeth, 
 
 [Ashmolean MS. 208, leaf 260 bk.] 
 
 lorU of QBarricfe* 
 
 What doth more glad the harts of men 
 Then springe tim when hit comes ? 
 
 Or what doth pinch men more -with care 
 
 Then hyemps Vfiih her Bloms ? 4 
 
 For when that Ladie Yer appears, 
 
 for good relife men hope ; 
 But when Againe A waie hit fares, 
 
 Then Hiemps cuts their crope, 8 
 
 So wase ther nothinge, noble Lord, 
 
 That more did make men glad, 
 Then when the foLke of jour coming 
 
 Abundaunt newes they haid. 12 
 
 Then did their harts in bodyes lepe, 
 
 for ioye of yowr comminge ; 
 And to behould your Louely cher, 
 
 futt great wase their Runninge. 16 
 
 for whye, they knewe Asuredly 
 
 that comfort w«tA youe came 
 In depe distres their harts to ease ; 
 
 Therfore thei praise your name. 20 
 
280 A Name in all our Coasts. 
 
 Therfore they praye continually, 
 
 That here stitt might byd, 
 And never wold wJtA willing hart 
 
 That youe from them should ryd. 24 
 
 And I my-self, noble Lord, 
 
 Could wishe youe her to dwett 
 Continuallie with willing hart ; 
 
 for suer hit^ lykes me weft. 28 
 
 Ase Euphrates of Paradice, 
 
 That flod Abrood doth spred ; 
 So doth yoi«r name in Aft our costes, 
 
 wher so ever youe goe or ryde. 32 
 
 The wind. Also, which Bloweth stitt, 
 
 Youre name Abrood doth Bare ; 
 for prudent Justice in youe flowes, 
 
 which rids men out of care. 36 
 
 And ase The Weft of Helicon, 
 
 That never dryeth vpe. 
 So is yo?«r name in aft this land, 
 
 for whye ? none can hit stope. 40 
 
 Even ase the Culter of the plowghe, 
 
 which makes the land to Reue ;^ 
 Soe doth your name the harts of men 
 
 with good report them cleue. 44 
 
 The which Report god still encres. 
 
 And graunt youe happie dales, 
 And nestors yeares that youe maye Liuc, 
 
 And stilt Augment your praise. 48 
 
 And thuse farweft, moste noble Lord ; [if.2eibkj 
 
 my hart hear at is sade : 
 But yet we hope to se the dales 
 
 when youe our harts shaft glad 52 
 
 ' MS. hits. 2 To tear or be torn. 
 
The Shepherd of the Ocean. 281 
 
 Againe, I meane At your Returne 
 
 Againe even to this place ; 
 Again, I saie, god graunt hit be, 
 
 And that with in short space. 55 
 
 Noe other gifte I haue wher w»th 
 
 I might pj-esent your praise ; 
 for, certes, I am A scoUare poor, 
 
 In learning spend my daies. 60 
 
 But thus doe youe in mind, I praie, 
 
 Eeceiue nowe in good part. 
 And not except the thinge hit selfe 
 
 Aboue my willinge hart. 64 
 
 Simon fformaw. 
 1578, Jawuari the 10th. 
 
 To write a life of Martin Frobisher is only to go over very old 
 ground. He was born at Doncaster, of parents in a humble 
 position. Being provided with funds by Ambrose Dudley, Earl 
 of Warwick, he fitted out three ships in 1576, with a view of 
 discovering a North-west passage to China. In 1577 he sailed 
 from Harwich on another expedition, and returned towards the 
 close of the same year. In 1588 he commanded the Triumph, 
 and exerted himself vigorously against the Spanish Armada, 
 and finally was sent, in 1594, with four men-of-war, to the 
 assistance of Henry IV. of France. Here, in an assault on the 
 fort of Croyzon, he -received a wound in the hip, of which he 
 died soon after his return to Plymouth. His adventures have 
 found a chronicler in the indefatigable Hakluyt. 
 
 Of such a stamp and mode of life was old Martin Frobisher, 
 one of the sea-lions of the Elizabethan epoch — a " shepherd of 
 the ocean," to quote the rather fantastic appellation which 
 Spenser gave to his visitant on the banks of 
 
 "MuUa mine, whose waves I whilome taught to weep." 
 But for these sea-glories, of course, we must go to Mr. Kingsley's 
 fresh, vigorous books, which seem to be redolent of the brine 
 and the bold roystering deeds of our forefathers. Like the 
 Homeric heroes, they did not blush to unite the duties of the 
 sailor and the wild adventures of the buccaneer. They founded, 
 
282 The Adieu at Greenwich. 
 
 however, the maritime glories of England, and the maiden Queen 
 gladly accepted their services, and gave them her countenance 
 and support. She could grace the " Golden Hind " with her 
 presence at a dinner ; and when Master Frobisher set out on his 
 first voyage, a regal hand was seen waving him an adieu as hia 
 vessels passed the Palace at Greenwich.^ 
 
 [Ashmolean MS. 208, leaf 262.] 
 
 Cbomas elUs in praise of frofiisjjer.' 
 
 Yf gretians stout did right extott 
 
 Their Worthye Weights of fame. 
 And gaue to them great honors highe, 
 
 Which did deserue the same ; — 4 
 
 Yf they had cause for to Advaunce 
 
 Alcydes for his might, 
 Which did subd.ewe ech sturdie foe 
 
 And monster fierce in fight ; — 8 
 
 Which brought from hesperus ylle y® frut 
 
 Which glitterud lyke to gould, 
 And did enriche his Countrye soitt 
 
 w«M heaps of goulden mould : — 12 
 
 ' " The first voyage of M. Marline Frotisher to the Northwest, for the search 
 of the straight or passage to China, written by Christopher Hall, Master in the 
 Gahriel, and made in the yeere of our Lord 1676. 
 
 " The 7 of June being Thursday, the two barks, Tiz. The Gabriel and the 
 Michael, and our pinnesse set saile at Ratcliffe, and bare down to Detford, and 
 there we ancred : the cause was, that our pinnesse hurst her boultsprit, and fore 
 mast athwart of a ship that rode at Detford, else we meant to have past that day 
 by the Court, then at Grenewich. 
 
 " The 8 day being Friday, about 12 of the clock we mayed at Detford, and 
 set sail all three of us, and bare downe by the Court, where we shotte off our 
 ordinance and made the best shew we could : Her Maiestie beholding the same, 
 commended it, and bade us farewell, with shaking her hand at us out of the 
 window. Afterward she sent a Gentleman aboord of us, who declared that her 
 Maiestie had good liking of our doings, and thanked us for it, and also willed our 
 Captaine to come the next day to the Court to take his leaue of her. 
 
 " The same day towards night M. Secretavie Woolly came aboorde of us, and 
 declared to the company, that her Maiestie had appointed him to give them 
 charge to be obedient, and diligent to their captaine, and governours in all 
 things, and wished us happie suocesse." — Raklui/t, vol. iii. p. 29. 
 
 ^ Who Thomas Ellis was I cannot discover. Did Forman compose the verses 
 in his name ? 
 
The Golden Fleece. 283 
 
 Or yf that theie deservedlye 
 
 enrold the valiaunt facts 
 of the Adventrose Jason braue 
 
 with All his noble actes, 16 
 
 And aft his noble knitlye trope 
 
 from Cholchis ylle, the which 
 Did bringe A waie the goulden fleece, 
 
 his Countrie to enriche : — 20 
 
 Yf thes, I saye, with flickeringe fame, 
 
 wear lyke to loftie ^ skye, 
 That even tyft nowe in thes our dales 
 
 Their fame A freshe doth flye ; — 24 
 
 Whie should not then our frobisher, 
 
 "Whoe sure doth them surmount, 
 With goulden Trumpe of Thundringe fame 
 
 be glad'in lyke acompte ? 28 
 
 His harte ase valiaunt is Ase theirs, 
 
 His hazards wear more hard, 
 His good succes doth theirs surpase, 
 
 Yf they be weft compard. 32 
 
 The glittering flece that he doth bringe,^ 
 
 In value suer is more 
 Then Jasons was, or Alcyds frute, 
 
 wher of was mad such store. 36 
 
 And crueft monsters he doth tame, 
 
 And men of sauage kind. 
 And searcheth out the swellinge seas. 
 
 And Countrise straunge doth find. 40 
 
 And brings hom treasur to his land. 
 
 And doth enrich the same. 
 And Corage giues to noble harts 
 
 To seke for fleight of fame. 44 
 
 giue place, therfore, youe greatiaws nowe, 
 
 And to me giue Assent : 
 This worthy weight excells youre imps, 
 
 The which befor him vent. 48 
 
 finis. qd. S. fo. 
 
 ' MS. loftie. ' 
 
 ' The second expediton of Frobisher in 1577 was fitted out with a view to the 
 discovery of gold. 
 
284 
 [Aslimolean MS. 208, leaf 263.] 
 
 3loF)n feitfebam of martin fro6is&er. 
 
 This poem seems to have been composed by Forman in the name 
 of Kirkham, a person of whom nothing is known. 
 
 Youe Muses, guid my quiuering quitt ; 
 
 Caliope, drawe near ; 
 Sicilian nimphes, attend my suet, 
 
 And to my hastes giue ear. 4 
 
 Your sacred ayd A whyft I craue, 
 
 my shiueringe sence to staye ; 
 such hewt exploits I take in hand, 
 
 That men to me maye saye : 8 
 
 Thy ragged rime and ruraft verse 
 
 cannot Ascend soe hye 
 To toutch the tope of martins prayes 
 
 vfhich fleth the hiest skie. 12 
 
 Wher whirlinge sphers doe hit resound 
 
 And deweshe staress containe : 
 With Thundringe Trompe of goulden fame, 
 
 in Azure ayer soe plaine. 16 
 
 Whose hewtie acts not heavens allone 
 
 contented ar to haue ; 
 but earth And skyes, the surging seas, 
 
 And Silvans Eccoughes braue, 20 
 
 Do ail resound with tuned stringe 
 
 of siluer harmonye, 
 Howe frobisher in every coste 
 
 with flickering fame dothe flye. 24 
 
 A mertiatt knight adventures. 
 
 Whose valure great wase suche. 
 That hazard hard he light estemd, 
 
 his countrie to enriche. 28 
 
Wishes for Frobisher. 285 
 
 To climb The height And heutie^ hills, tif.zeibk.i 
 
 where Poets preach for praise ; 
 To Vewe Pernassus and etna, 
 
 I liste not spend my daies. 32 
 
 Nor yet to seke the water nimphes, 
 
 nor fataft sisters three, 
 Nor yeat to tett of Acteons death, 
 
 what thaunche be chamced [sic) he.' 36 
 
 Nor yet to tett of Arthurs Knits, 
 
 in force that did excett ; 
 for certainlye suche men ar dead 
 
 of whom the Poets doe tett. 40 
 
 god graunt to thee old Tythons age, 
 
 And CreasTis happie wealth ; 
 Policrats haps god send youe to, 
 
 And Gallons perfect healthe. 44 
 
 but sith my wit for sakes my witt, 
 
 I maye not what I wold ; 
 Then, pardon wit, accept good witt. 
 
 That wills yf soe it could. 48 
 
 Thus witt I end, And not contend 
 
 your noble fame to scrye, 
 Whose excellent grace doth far surpase 
 
 The clear and christatt skye. 52 
 
 To Abrams seat thy sowtt shall com 
 
 in lastinge ioyes to rest ; 
 When from this earth thy sowtt shatt pase. 
 
 The heavens it shatt possese. 56 
 
 finis. qd. Simow formaw. 
 
 ? haughty. ' what thence bechanced he. 
 
 III. 
 
286 
 
 POEMS FROM THE JACKSON MS. 
 
 The following pieces are taken from a MS. volume presented 
 to the University of Edinburgh by Mr. Halliwell. The contents 
 appear to have been copied out by one Eichard Jackson, who 
 began the book in 1623, as this date is found with his name on 
 one of the opening leaves (see Notes and Queries, 5th series, 
 vol. iii. p. 99). This book was at one time in the possession of 
 Haslewood the antiquary, and is alluded to by Mr. Collier, 
 " History of English Dramatic Poetry," vol. iii. p. 275. 
 
 Ficars on €iueen €ti?a60tft. 
 
 This piece, of which a duplicate is to be found (Ash. MS. 38, fol. 
 24), is the composition of John Vicars, who in his day obtained 
 the reputation of perhaps the most conspicuously "bad poet." 
 In Hudibras we find him coupled with Prynne and Withers (with 
 the latter certainly most unjustly) as one of those who write 
 against nature and their stars; nor has he escaped the caustic 
 severity of Oldham. 
 
 Vicars was born in 1582, and died in 1652. The following 
 amusing account of him is given by Anthony a Wood : — 
 
 '■ John Vicars, a Londoner born, descended from those of his 
 name living in the county of Cumberland, educated from his 
 infancy or time of understanding in school learning in Christ 
 Church hospital in London, and in academical partly in Oxon, 
 particularly, as it seems, in Queen's Coll., but whether he took 
 a degree it appears not. Afterwards he retired to his native place, 
 became usher of the same hospital (which he kept to, or near, 
 his dying day), and was esteemed among some, especially the 
 puritanical party (of which number he was a zealous brother), 
 a tolerable poet, but by the royalists not, because he was inspired 
 with ale or viler liquors.' In the beginning of the civil wars he 
 
 1 'J'his showa that Wood had been reading Hudibras, and did not think as 
 meanly of it when it first appeared as Mr. Samuel Pepys. 
 " Thou that with ale, or viler liquors, 
 Didst inspire "Withers, Prynne, and Vickars, 
 And force them, though it was in spite 
 Of Nature, and their stars, to write." 
 
McBvius Vicars. 287 
 
 shewed liimself a forward man for the presbyterian cause, hated 
 all people that loved obedience, and did affright many of the 
 weaker sort and others from having any agreement with the 
 king's party, by continually inculcating into their heads strange 
 stories of G-od's wrath against the Cavaliers. Afterwards, when 
 the independents began to take place, he bore a great hatred to- 
 wards them, especially after they had taken away the king's life." 
 
 A long list of his works is given in Carew Hazlitt's Handbook, 
 but the recapitulation of them would be a trespass upon the 
 reader's patience. They are well known, however, to the anti- 
 quarian, and some of them, especially the " Prodigies and 
 Apparitions, or England's Warning Pieces," 1643, valued on 
 account of their curious plates. 
 
 Among the Ashmolean MSS. No. 38, 170, we find Vindiciee 
 Virgiliana, "Why, how now Msevius, art thou dabling still. 
 Wrighten against John Vicars, the Usher of the Schole at Christ 
 Church Hospitall, by E. C." The piece subjoined has been 
 printed before. 
 
 A SUCCINCT MEMORIALL OF THAT MATCHLES MIRROR OF PRINCEI.Y 
 ROYALTY, QUJEENE OF VERTUE, PATRONESSE OF CHRISTIAN 
 PIETY, and' PATTERNE OF MOST WORTHY INIMITABLE 
 VERTUES AND ENDOWMENTS OF GRACE AND GODNES, 
 ANGELICALL ELIZABETH. 
 
 Behold the pourtract of faire vertues Queene, 
 
 Rare paragon of time, by fame still seene. 
 
 Sweet nurse of loue, graue wisdomes darling deere. 
 
 Religions fortresse, fortitudes chiefe peere, 4 
 
 Chastities lamps, faiths nourceling, charity e, 
 
 Constancies bullwarke, geme of pietye, 
 
 Delights faire arbour, pleasures pallace rare, 
 
 Where subiects hearts were freed fro woe and care : 8 
 
 The flower whose top foule envye nere could crop, 
 
 The Tree whose boughes Traytors could neuer lop ; 
 
 A piouse Deborah to ouerthrowe 
 
 Proud Sisera of Rome — Christ's mitred foe ; 12 
 
 The vine whose iuyce their subiects comfort gaue, 
 
 The Rose of England florishing most braue. 
 
 To whom since Venus deigneth to giue place 
 
 As to the mirror of perfections grace, 16 
 
 Vi^'hose princly, noble and heroicke mind 
 
 Bids bold Semiramis come far behind. 
 
 X 2 
 
288 James and Buchanan. 
 
 Not chast Diana, with her nimphes most faire, 
 
 With chast Eliza dare attempt compare. * 20 
 
 Whose learning, witt, and knowledge most profound 
 
 Parnassus nimphs with great applause resound. 
 
 Whose amitye what king did not desire ? 
 
 What potent nation dreaded not her ire ? 24 
 
 What puissant Keisar could her corage quell ? 
 
 Who ere in ought Eliza could excell ? 
 
 On whom as handmaides Peace and Plenty tended, 
 
 Whose life in glory led, in glory ended. 28 
 
 And tho grim death hath rob'd vs of this treasure, 
 
 And she an angell in celestiall pleasure. 
 
 Yet still on earth her neuer-dying name 
 
 Shall propagated be by sounding fame. 32 
 
 She was, she is, what can there more be said ? 
 
 In, earth the first, in Heaven the second maid. 
 
 Praise her who list, he still remaines her debtor. 
 
 For Art nere faign'd, nor Nature fram'd a better. 36 
 
 3[ames tf)e jTirst. 
 
 The character of James the First as a king has been fre- 
 quently drawn, and his manners are familiar to the general 
 reader by the somewhat highly-coloured portrait of Scott in the 
 "Fortunes of Nigel." As an author he is less commonly known, 
 but the pupil of Buchanan, if a pedantic, was certainly a learned 
 writer. He had not been under the eye of one of the greatest 
 Humanists for nothing. His "Essayes of a Prentise in the 
 Divine Art of Poesie," together with the " Counterblaste to 
 Tobacco," were reprinted by Mr. Arber in 1869. They are 
 deliciously quaint, and well worth reading : his Demonology may 
 also be consulted with advantage in these days of "levitating 
 theories." ' The King's works were by himself presented to the 
 Universities of Oxford and Cambridge. 
 
 Vide the passage about liow witches travel. 
 
Buchanan's Prophecy. 289 
 
 Verses vpo the Kings workes to Cabridge dedicated. 
 
 Rex pater est patriae, mihi clara Academia mater. 
 
 Thus in the deare memoriall of my duety, 
 
 Into the tender bosome of my mother, 
 I light my father vp : let her beutye, 
 
 Mixt with his strength, each day heare me a brother, 4 
 And let the spring tides of their fresh delight 
 Make euery minute as a marriage night. 6 
 
 Crownes haue their cowmpasse, length of dayes their date, 
 
 Tryumphes their tombes, felicity her fate. 
 
 Of more then earth can earth make none partaker. 
 
 But knowlege makes the king most like his maker.' 10 
 
 Among the common-places books of fugitive verses made in 
 the first half of the seventeenth century, and preserved among 
 the Ashmolean and other MSS., we find here and there a few 
 pieces assigned to James I., but on no very certain authority. As 
 the King however, like Queen Elizabeth, was well known to be 
 a "makir" in the Scotch sense of the word, they may possibly 
 be his. In the Jackson MS. we have the following curious story : 
 
 " Two yeares before the King died, a carbuncle being in his 
 hat, and he by the fire sleeping, by chance it fell in the fire and 
 was burnt. Immediately after the King called to mind two 
 prophetioall verses that his scoolemaster Buchanan the night 
 before in his dreame appeared to him and repeated to him, the 
 verses being these : 
 
 Sexte, verere Deum, iam te tua properat aetas. 
 Cum tuus ardenti carbunculus vritur igni. 
 
 Soe he died two yeares after." 
 
 For some pleasant papers on James as a writer, see Isaac 
 Disraeli's " Inquiry into the Literary and Political Character of 
 James the First." 
 
 Physically weak, and the child of an unfortunate marriage, 
 James passed his youth among the broils of the turbulent and 
 savage aristocracy of Scotland. His early days were further 
 embittered by the acrid Calvinism of the Kirk-squabbles of the 
 
 ^ The last four verses have been already printed, and contain some noble truths 
 pungently expressed. 
 
290 Queen Anne. 
 
 country. All these experiences left a deep impression upon him : 
 he became a supporter of the divine theory of kingcraft in its 
 most exaggerated type, and an Episcopalian of the most approved 
 constitutional pattern. In the intervals of his buffoonish sallies, 
 he uttered many wise things, and showed considerable political 
 sagacity. Thus he foresaw the great constitutional struggle which 
 was approaching, and prophesied the mischief which Laud would 
 work in the kingdom. The pageant of royalty — the very first 
 principles of which were shortly to be debated — was however to 
 be made ridiculous by a king whose personal cowardice, whose 
 uncouth and waddling gait, whose tedious and pedantic platitudes, 
 made him an object of contempt to his Court, and were such that 
 his very wife and children blushed for him. 
 
 Ypo the death of Queene Anne — the verses or 
 King James. 
 
 (Anne, -wife of James I. and daughter of Frederick II. of Denmark, died in 1619.) 
 
 Oara Deo, taedis clarissima, prole beata, 
 Anna soror regum, filia, sponsa, parens, 
 
 Tu quae protrita victrix de morte tryumphans 
 Manibus inuitis, Anna perenna manes, 
 
 Quam bene prsecipitis lusisti spicula mortis, 
 
 Aucta malo, Cristo nupta, potita Deo. 6 
 
 The[e] to invite the great God sent his starre, 
 
 Whose freinds, and nearest freinds, great princes are ; 
 
 Who though they lead the race of men and die, 
 
 Death seemes but to refine their majestie ; 10 
 
 For did my Queene her court fro hence remoue, 
 
 And left of earth to be enthron'd aboue. 
 
 Then shee's aliue, not dead : Noe good prince dies, 
 
 But like the sun sets onely to our eyes. 14 
 
Henry the Ninth. 291 
 
 An Epitaph of y'' second Alexander, Prince Henry,i 
 
 THAT GLORIOUS DAYSTAR OF BeYTAN's CONSORT, TOO 
 SOONE HID FRO VS BY Y^ CLOUD OF God's WRATH: Y^ 
 MOST ODERIFEROUS FLOWER OF EnGLANDS HOPE, TOO 
 SUDDENLY NIPT BY THE CHILLING FROST OF HEAVENS 
 HIGH DISPLEASURE. 
 
 A threefould mother God the gaue, 
 
 princely youth ! 
 A royall Queene, the Church, the Graue 
 
 Which caus'd our ruth. 4 
 
 The Church thy mother in her lappe. 
 
 The Queene in wombe. 
 The Graue in clay thy corps doth wrappe 
 
 In princely Tombe. 8 
 
 The Church Ithe made a heauenly Saint, 
 
 A prince the Queene, 
 A lifeles corps Earth doth depaint 
 
 The to bee scene. 12 
 
 In Church eterniz'd is thy name : 
 
 ^She doth deplore 
 Thy losse. From Graue to heauens high frame 
 
 Thou* once shalt soare. 16 
 
 Ex eodem ad eundem. 
 
 Henry the heate of aU, ah his owne fire ; 
 
 Henry braue Mars his sonne, graue Art's sweet sire ; 
 
 Henry Art's Nourceling, and great Mars his Master ; 
 
 Henry our glory, but by death, disaster ; 20 
 
 Henry Rome's terror, whole world's admiration ; 
 
 Henry our day day-star, and sun's deprauation ; 
 
 Henry the glory of the Henries all ; 
 
 Henry, nought grieu'd vs as thy funerall. 24 
 
 Henry the ninth was he P Nay nine in one 
 
 In Henry died, the more's our griefe and moane. 26 
 
 ' For a note on this Prince, see p. 138. 
 
 ^ Queene. s ^^ ys Eesurrection. 
 
292 The Good Shepherd. 
 
 The good Sheepheards sorrow for the death of his 
 
 SONNE p. HeNBYB. 
 
 In sad and ashye weedes I sigh, I pine, I grieue, I mourne. 
 My Gates and yellow reedes I now to ieate and ebon turne, 
 
 My vrged eyes, like winter skies, 
 My fvrrowed cheekes oreflowe ; 
 
 All Heauen knowes whye ; men mourne as I, 
 And who can blame my woe ? 6 
 
 In sable robes of night my dayes of ioy apparel'd be. 
 My sorrowes see noe light; my light [s]^ through sorrowes 
 nothing see ; 
 
 For now my sunne his date hath run, 
 And from his sphere doth goe 
 
 To endless bed of solded lead. 
 And who can blame my woe ? 12 
 
 My flockes I now forsake, that silly sheepe my griefes may 
 
 know. 
 And lillies loath to take that since his fall presum'd to growe. 
 
 I envie aire, because it dare 
 Still breath, and he not soe ; 
 
 Hate earth that doth entombe his youth ; 
 And who can blame my woe ? 18 
 
 Not I poore lad alone (alone how can such sorrow be ?), 
 Not onely men make moane, but more then men make moane 
 with me. 
 
 The Gods of greenes, the mountain Queenes 
 In fairie-circled row, 
 
 The Muses nine, the Nymphes divine 
 Doe all condole my woe. 24 
 
 You awfuU Gods of side, if sheepheards may yow question thus. 
 What Deitie to supplie, tooke yow this gentle star from vs ? 
 
 Is Hermes fled ? Is Cupid dead ? 
 Doth Sol his seate forgoe ? 
 
 Or Jove his ioy he stole from Troy ? 
 Or who hath fram'd this woe ? 30 
 
 ' light, singular in original, 
 
Subversion not Conversion. 293 
 
 Did not mine eyes, Heavens, adore your light as well before ? 
 But that amidst your seven, yow fixed haue one planet more, 
 
 Yow may well raise now double dayes 
 On this sad earth below. 
 
 Your powers haue wonne another sunne, 
 And who can blame our woe ? 36 
 
 Against the Papists: For thinking it meritorious to 
 KILL THE King and all his Protestants, cause they 
 
 BE NOT OF THEIR ChURCH DESIRING SUBVERSION RATHER 
 
 THAN CONUERSION. 
 
 Rise, my Muse, mournful! Melpomene ! 
 
 Vochsafe thine aide to thy weake Orator ; 
 
 Distill sweet streames from thy rare Deitye 
 
 Erst too too long by him vnasked for ! 4 
 
 Vrania, take thy lute, hung vp too long. 
 Let posts and stones sound out my tragicke song ! 6 
 
 that I could in sacred Helicon, 
 
 Or precious Nectar of Parnassus Muse 
 
 Dip my dull pen, or from faire Citheron 
 
 Vranias sacred skill and power could vse 10 
 
 T' anatomize and paint to publique view 
 A stratagem most horrid, strange and true. 12 
 
 If thus^ they hope to climbe to Heauens high throne. 
 
 Then with Ascesius climbe to Heauen alone. 
 
 Now how these Jesuites censures doth agree 
 
 With Jesus doctrine, you shall plainly see : 16 
 
 When God with sinfuU flesh vouchsaft to talke. 
 
 Did he not vnto faithfuU Abraham say, 
 
 That if in Sodome he could find ten folke 
 
 That vpright were, his vengeance he would stay, 20 
 
 And for their sakes on all hee'd mercy shew ? 
 
 But cruell Papists are more wise than soe. 
 Did not the heauenly Husbandman decree. 
 Considering how with wheat grew vp the tare, 24 
 
 ' A quaint marginal gloss by the scribe : If by murthers & fornioatio. 
 
294 Loyola! s Priests. 
 
 How intricate a business then would be 
 The weed to plucke vp and the wheats to spare, 
 Therefore gaue charge to let them both alone ? 
 But of this husbandrie Papists will none. 28 
 
 Doth not St. Paull, doth not all Scripture teach 
 That none ill ought be done, tho thence may rise 
 A greater good ? ' But what tho Paul thus preach ? 
 Loiolae's priests are now growne far more wise, 32 
 
 For if that any good to the Church may grow, 
 They hold it lawfuU to kill freind or foe. 
 Our Sauior likewise said he came to saue. 
 Not to destroye, whom God vnto him gaue. 36 
 
 If Christs blest kingdome of this woreld had bene 
 Legions of Angells he might haue commanded ; 
 But Antichrist, great Babell's man of sin. 
 Must here be Lord and King, and' rich tly landed. 40 
 Peter might not once strike in Christs defence. 
 But Popish priests may vse all violence. 
 0, saith our Sauiour, loue your enemies. 
 For persecutors pray, blesse them that curse. 41 
 
 But yow than Christ would seeme to be more wise, 
 Or rather than vnholy pagans worse, " ^ 
 For Pagans loue their friends, yow would vs slaye. 
 Which fauour yow, and for your soules health praye. 48 
 Oh is it possible such wrath should rest 
 In Rome's vn-erring Popes most sacred brest ?^ 50 
 
 And tho the letter seemed most obscure, 
 
 Like great ApoUoe's Delphean misterye ; 
 
 Our King a Joseph, — Daniell — was most sure 
 
 T' vntwine the twist of its obscuritye.^ 54 
 
 ' Non facienda sunt mala vt oveniant bona. 
 
 ' Tantaene animis coelestibus irac ? Scelestibus irao. 
 
 ^ The letter wbich cao to Lord Mounteagle, Jaes our king interpreted. 
 
The Fatal Bisiers. 295 
 
 That rare pare-royall of true piety, 
 
 Sweet Shedrach, Mesach, and Abednego,^ 
 
 True worshippers of Heauen's deitye, 
 
 In whom the Lord did such a wonder show ; 58 
 
 And certainly such was to ts Grod's grace, 
 And wee wefl. nigh in as like dangerous case. 60 
 
 The fatall sisters Latin poets call 
 
 Parcae, tho parcunt nulli, they kill all. 
 
 And Latinists the thicke wood lucus write 
 
 Ceu nunquam lucens, wherein comes no light, 64 
 
 Bellum, fierce war is by them vnderstood 
 
 Ceu nunquam bonum, as nere being good, 
 
 And by the same antiphrasis of late 
 
 The Jesuites to themselues appropriate 68 
 
 The sacred name of Jesus, tho their workes 
 
 Declare their Hues to be far worse than Turkes. 
 
 But euen their name, and, doe their workes behold 
 
 Their best part then will proue but drosse to gold. 72 
 
 Doe thornes beare grapes ? or figgs on thistles grow ? 
 
 Or the hard oake yeild tender fruit ? noe. 
 
 The tree by 's fruit may manifested bee ; 
 
 On good trees good, on iU wee bad fruit see. 76 
 
 The Jesuites doctrine who to know doth list. 
 
 It doth of five Dees certainely consist, 
 
 In daunting subiects and dissimulation 
 
 Depose, disposing kings realmes, and destruction. 80 
 
 Whether the Jesuites come more neere to those 
 
 "Which beare the armes of Christ or Mars with blowes. 
 
 It is a question, but with ease decided. 
 
 As thus, Christ's souldiers euer are prouided 84 
 
 Of these blest weapons, Teares, prayers, patience, 
 
 These foUe and spoile their foes with heauenly sence : 
 
 But daggars, daggs,^ keene swords, poisons, deceipt. 
 
 Close fawning trea,sons, wiles, to couzen and cheate, 88 
 
 1 Three children that was put in the furnace by Nabuchodonezar for not kneel- 
 ing to their idoUs. 
 • 2 Pistols. 
 
296 Amuni, Locusts ! 
 
 These are tlie Jesuites armes, and with these artes, 
 
 The Pope to deifye, they play their parts. 
 
 Nor faith, nor pity, their followers haue. 
 
 They diuellishly against Truth rage and raue. 92 
 
 How fit those armes Loiolae's brats beseeme, 
 
 Brytan can witnes, and the whole world deeme. 
 
 I'le passe by sleights, all in this one. 
 
 In this great ponder treason all were showne. 96 
 
 They'le smooth and sooth, and one thing to yow say. 
 
 And yet their hart goes cleane another way. 
 
 This ambiguity was ApoUoe's art, 
 
 Vnder whose name the diuell play'd his part. loo 
 
 Even TuUy may these popish priests reprehend, 
 
 By whom such lamb-skin wolues are oft condemn'd ; 
 
 Who if he now liu'd, howe 's eloquence 
 
 Would thunder out Loyolae's impudence ! 104 
 
 Satan, that subtill serpent, did them teach 
 
 This lying art, they nere heard Christ soe preach. 
 
 Are not these then Rome's white deuills ? Fie for shame, 
 
 Nought but bare outsides, their best part their name. 108 
 
 What was the diuell ? a lyar, homicide, 
 
 A slie dissembler, regicide, 
 
 And with best reason, may this Jesuite deuill 
 
 Most properly be called the Kings euiU. 112 
 
 If then afiinity of manners vile, 
 
 If iust proportion of like fraud and guile, 
 
 If deedes so consonant and disposition 
 
 To practise greably may with prouision 116 
 
 Auaile to proue a truth ; then I Magog know. 
 
 These doe a great part of thy warfare showe, 
 
 And palpably declare to the truely wise 
 
 This offspring did from the their father rise. 120 
 
 Avant, yow locusts ! hence, yow spawne of Hell ! 
 
 From whose blacke smoake yow are deriu'd full well : 
 
 If still yow will the name of Jesus take. 
 
 Let all men know yow doe it onely make 124 
 
 A cloake to hide your knauery, for yow are 
 
 But gray wolues, bearing in your front a star. 
 
 Instead of Jesus, take yow Judas' name, 
 
 Your hatefuU Hues will best befitt the same ; 128 
 
 For by your works wee perfectly doe find 
 
 Noe part with Christ is vnto yow assign'd. 130 
 
297 
 
 mo&ert CecHl 
 
 Egbert Cbcill was a younger son of the minister Burghley, 
 and was born about 1565. He was a bitter enemy, both of 
 Essex and Ealeigh, and has been previously alluded to as such 
 in these pages. He was made Earl of Salisbury in 1605, and 
 died in 1612. In him James lost a trusty friend, who had 
 laboured much to facilitate his succession to the throne. 
 
 Ypon the death of Egbert Cectll, in Queene Elizabeth's 
 KAiGNE Lord Treasurer and Master of the Wardes 
 AND Liveries. 
 
 Poore England ! (for how can'st thou be but poore, 
 "Whose losses haue enricht the cope of heauen ?) 
 How is thy wealth decayde ? Where is thy store ? 
 Who of thy treasure hath the bereauen ? 
 Yet maist thou tryumph in thy poTertie, 
 You hadst bene rich, had heaven not robbed the. 6 
 
 Yee blessed saynts, whither haue yee convayde 
 Poore England's syluer-heajied senatour P 
 To Jove's starchamber ? Be it never said 
 The highest heavens wants a councellour : 
 
 Yet never fitter man, nor fitter place, 
 
 Since lie the heavens, the heavens him doe grace. 12 
 
 Where were ye Muses when your glory died ? 
 
 Would not your griefe endure to see his fall ? 
 
 Noe marvaile for his glory was your pride, 
 
 And those his siluer haires enricht yow all : 
 Those siluer haires rich as the golden fleece. 
 Which Jason with his gallants brought to Greece, is 
 
 Then mourne, ye Muses, moume and never cease ! 
 
 Cease never till your griefe be drown'de in teares ! 
 
 And when the wellspringes of your teares decrease 
 
 Make ditties of his prayses for the sphaeres ; 
 Soe let the man that hath the Muses raysde. 
 Or liue or dead be of the Muses praysde. 24 
 
298 The Winter-King. 
 
 Twise twenty winters past, while he protected 
 
 Our ilands elder sisters nurserie ; 
 
 And rose then any troubles vnexpected, 
 
 He guarded them, like as an aged tree 
 
 From summers heate and winters cold doth cover 
 The tender lamkins and their milkie mother. 30 
 
 How might wee send embassadours to Jove 
 
 To parlie for a ransome with the Gods ! 
 
 noe, yee Muses should haue overstrove 
 
 The fatall sisters, having them at odds : 
 
 Your champione slaine yow tooke the foile, not hee, 
 Yee beeing three to one, he one to three ! 36 
 
 Ben. Hinton, Col. Trinit.i 
 
 These 'lines are on the death of the eMest son of Frederick the 
 Elector Palatine. The following account of. the melancholy fate 
 of this young Prince is given by Mrs. Everett Green, " Lives of 
 the Princesses of England," vol. v. p. 468 : — 
 
 "The Princess Elizabeth was placed under the care of Lord and 
 Lady Vere, then residents at the Hague, who watched carefully and 
 affectionately over her expanding talents ; and the young heir, 
 Frederic Henry, was also brought to the Hague, to be more fully 
 trained in manly and military exercises. The developments of this 
 Prince were already very promising. He was regarded with pride 
 and hope, not only in Bohemia, where the people delighted to give 
 him the title of their Crown -Prince, but in England, where, after his 
 mother, he was the next heir to the yet childless King. His uncle, 
 Charles I., showed his approval of the intention of bis parents to 
 train him to arras, by placing him as volunteer in the army of the 
 Prince of Orange. But bis opening prospects were quickly closed 
 by a sudden and fatal calamity. On the ^th of January, 1629, the 
 Prince set out with his father on a pleasure excursion, to see the 
 fleet returned from the West Indies, in which his mother herself 
 was interested, as a rich prize had been secured, of which a share 
 belonged to her, by the will of the late Prince of Orange. Elizabeth 
 parted from her son in buoyant and vigorous health. The next day 
 
 ' This ■writer is probably the author mentioned by Allibone ("British and 
 American Authors"): — "Hinton, Benjamin, Eighteen Sermons. London, 1650. 
 4to." A Benjamin Hinton was Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and 
 afterwards Minister of Hendon ; B.A. 1696, m.A. 1600, B.D. 1607. 
 
Qoody Palsgrave. 299 
 
 he was brought back to her palace a corpse. The circumstances of 
 his disastrous fate have been given -with much difference of detail ; 
 but the ofS.cial record sent to England relates, that shortly before 
 reaching Amsterdam, the vessel containing Frederick and his son came 
 into collision with one of much larger make, and sustained so serious 
 an injury that it immediately filled -with water, and all on board 
 perished, except the King, who was saved by the prompt efforts of 
 one of the sailors. The tide of the next morning brought on shore 
 the body of the drowned Prince."^ 
 
 Of his studies it has been said : 
 
 "He wrote and spoke English, French, and German. Latin he 
 understood so well that his examinations in his historical studies 
 were conducted in that language." — Frederick Henry to Ambassador 
 Carleton, Holland Correspondence, State Paper Ofllce. 
 
 Frederick, a weak and incapable man, who was induced 
 to hazard his ancestral territory for the crown of Bohemia, 
 died heart-broken under the ban of the empire in 1632. The 
 full record of his follies may be found in German history. "While 
 the battle of the White Mountain was raging outside of his new 
 capital, he was entertaining the English ambassador at a grand 
 banquet. The Winter-king faded from Bohemian history — the 
 only record they keep of him at Prague is his Bible, preserved 
 in the National Museum — and died a pensionary. His wife 
 Elizabeth, daughter of James I. — "goody Palsgrave," as the 
 unfortunate libeller called her — long survived him, dying in 
 London in 1G62. Two of her sons, Eupert and Maurice, dis- 
 tinguished themselves in the Civil War, and her daughter Sophia 
 was the mother of George I. 
 
 In obitum Henktci Frederici majoris natd Frederici 
 comitis palatini. 
 
 Must it be soe, iust Heauens, that still the best 
 
 And sweetest flowers fierce stormes shall most molest ? 
 
 Good God ! can none but cedars serue to be 
 
 Th' vnhappy markes of Boreas iniurie, 4 
 
 When shrubs are safe ? Must thy Lethean cup 
 
 Of direfuU vengeance all be drunken vp 
 
 By thine owne servants ? O yet let thy foes 
 
 Drinke vp the dregs which are begun by those. 8 
 
 Must sweet Eliza's streames of griefe still flow ? 
 
 And ioyes still ebbe ? Methinks the fates would owe 
 
 1 True Recital of the accident happened to the King of Bohemia, -^ Jan., 1629. 
 —German Correspondence, Bundle 61, State Paper Office. 
 
300 Neptune's Eival. 
 
 Some loue to vertue ; or at least desist 
 
 Soe sweet a life of blacke threed still to twist. 12 
 
 Her brother's, mother's, father's death should be 
 
 Surely enough to moue or satisfie 
 
 The most revenging fates ! Yet adde to these 
 
 The losse of husbands crowne and dignities. 16 
 
 Alas ! 'twere well if here her woes would end, 
 
 And angry starrs no further rage extend. 
 
 She that lost freinds before must lose a sonne, 
 
 And with her age her glasse of cares must run ; 20 
 
 Water must serue f6r sand. The earth before 
 
 Had lauishly exhausted all its store 
 
 Of hateful mischeife, and the sea must now 
 
 Conspire with earth to make afflictions flowe. 24 
 
 Yee stir-like Waues could awfuU maiestie 
 
 No whit asswage your hoodwincked crueltie ? 
 
 'Twas pollicie, thou tridentrbearing God ! 
 
 When azur'de waues thou moud'st with three forkt rod, 28 
 
 To choose the gloomie lap of clowdy night 
 
 Least else thy rage should earth and heauen affright ; 
 
 Gold-haired Apollo would not daigne to showe 
 
 His earth in lightning rayes, least he should soe 32 
 
 Seeme to approue thy rage ; sterne Eolus 
 
 Vnwilling seemes to loose his furious 
 
 Vnruly servants : you thy spleene to shew 
 
 Mald'st hoarie Winter arme himselfe anew 36 
 
 To further the, and mad'st blacke nighte effect 
 
 That which thy waues for pitty did neglect. 
 
 But, Neptune, thoa hast done thy worst, and now 
 
 Expect the effects of angry mortalls woe, 40 
 
 Thou shalt a riuall, a new welkin see 
 
 Which brinish teares from mortalls' eyes shalbe, 
 
 Ore which new ocean thou noe rule shalt beare, 
 
 But sole Eliza shalbe governer. 44 
 
 c--(r~&Ky<gJtgKB^).-3>_» 
 
301 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 p. 66. The Learning of Queen Elizabeth. — "Her wisedome was, 
 without question, in her life by any unequalled. She was senten- 
 tious, yet gratious in speech; so expert in Languages that she 
 answered most Embassadors in their natiue tongues : her capaoitie 
 was therewith so apprehensiue, and inuention so quicke, that if 
 any of them had gone beyonde their bounds, with maiestie vn- 
 daunted she would haue limited them within the verge of their 
 dueties, as she did royally, wisely, and learnedly, the last strut- 
 ting Poland inessenger, that thought with stalking lookes and 
 swelling words to daunt her vndaunted excellence."— From 
 " England's Mourning Garment," reprinted by Mr. Ingleby in 
 the "Shakspere Allusion-Books," p. 94. 
 
 P. 67. For Sigisrmmd II. read III. — This was the Jesuit king, 
 whose rule was so pernicious to the unfortunate country. 
 
 Ibid. The suit of Anjou. — Among the Ashmolean MSS., 800, 1, 
 we have a letter from "8=^ Philip Sydney to Queene Elizabeth 
 concerning her marriage with Mounser." This has been already 
 printed. Black, in the Ashmolean Catalogue, also quotes "A 
 defence of the French Monsieurs desiring marriage with Q. Eliz., 
 written by Lord Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton." This 
 is in the Harl. MS. 180 : it is noticed by Walpole in "Eoyal and 
 Noble Authors." 
 
 P. -68. Elizabeth's Lament. — It is only fair to add that these 
 verses are also found among the Tanner MSS-., where they are 
 asserted to have been composed by the Queen on Essex. 
 
 P. 68. Stnbbs' Gaping Gulf. — Of this production there are two 
 copies among Douce MSS. (xlvi.) entitled " The discoverie of A 
 Gaping Gulf, wherinto England is like to be swallowed by 
 another French mariage, if the Lord forbid not the banes by 
 letting her Maiestie see the sinn and punishment therof." Also 
 (ocLix.) another copy, illustrated throughout with marginal 
 notes. At the end, " Thus endeth the discovery of the Gaping 
 
302 Forman. 
 
 Gulfe, seene in a dreame, allowed in a traunce, published by 
 tbe autority of feareful douting, and rewarded with a common 
 byre to preferred servitours. Non credo." This last copy is 
 curious, because it is supposed to be in the handwriting of the 
 author. 
 
 P. 70. Forman. — I have not attempted anything like a complete 
 account of Forman and his fellow-conjurors, as the subject would 
 be too lengthy for a book of these dimensions. In Ashmolean MS. 
 802, 15, we have a long psalm composed by Dr. Forman, January 
 19th, 1604, " to be songe at his burialle." It begins, " Assemble 
 now, youe people all. Finis per Forman." He was buried at 
 Lambeth 12th Sept. 1611. The editor of the Catalogue doubts, 
 with apparent reason, whether the mourners would have had 
 sufficient patience to chant over the deceased doctor so lengthy 
 and dismal a performance. Among the Ashmolean MSS. are 
 many volumes contaiaing the names and "cases" of persons 
 whose nativities were calculated by him and Lilly. 
 
 P. 72. The Partheniades of Puttenham. — For all that can be as- 
 certained concerning Puttenham's life, and how far it is probable 
 that the " Arte of English Poesie " was written by him, I must 
 refer the reader to Mr. Arber's very careful Eeprint of the above- 
 mentioned book. 
 
 P. 78. Frith.- — Since writing my note on this word, I have met 
 with an article by Mr. Skeat in Notes and Queries (4th series, vi. 
 573) denying its existence in Ohauoer. So accurate a student 
 of Old English cannot be wrong, and it is probably to be found 
 in some piece by Lydgate, productions by whom are frequently 
 to be found appended to the old editions of Chaucer. 
 
 Ibid, iolly dame. — In the original edition of his " Day-dream," 
 Mr. Tennyson ventured upon the expression ■' he must have been 
 a jolly king." The small wits and the reviewers of the time 
 forced him by ridicule (we must presume) to alter this into the 
 weaker, " a jovial king." Let us hope the old reading will be 
 restored. It is certainly amusing to look at the Quarterlies on 
 Keats and Tennyson: we see how late the real study of our 
 own language has been. The present enthusiasm does not count 
 many years of existence : those who promoted it could be easily 
 specified — and their original number was very small. We may 
 now be comforted that it is in fashion : a short time ago those 
 who ventured in these bj'^-paths were the subjects only of fatuous 
 and self-admiring raillery. 
 
 P. 92. Bichard Tarleton. — For a biography of Tarleton — the 
 Grimaldi of his time, and a great deal more — we may also go to 
 Baker's Biogra^hia Dramatica, where we are told that his por- 
 
Prince Henry. 303 
 
 trait was frequently made the sign of ale-houses. Baker quotes 
 Hall, " To sit with Tarlton on an alepost's sign." See also the 
 reference to Dr. Cave, who, speaking of him, says : " in cujus 
 voce et vultu omnes jocosi affectus, in cujus cerebroso capite 
 lepidsB facetiae habitant." 
 
 P. 94. Quotation from the Play of Henry VIIL — Of course I 
 have here left the question unsettled concerning the authorship 
 of this play. For this very interesting discussion, and how far 
 Shakespere was assisted by Fletcher — a suggestion first made 
 by Mr. Tennyson to Mr, Spedding — I must refer the reader to 
 the Papers of the New Shakspere Society. 
 
 P. 96. A Poem in Praise of Queen Elizabeth. — The first part of 
 this piece, viz. that which was merely a translation of Simonides, 
 did not appear worthy of transcription. 
 
 P. 100. Sir Francis Drake. — Ashmolean MS. 830, 17, contains 
 some official documents setting forth the depredations committed 
 by Sir Francis Drake as follows : " The third voyadg of Francisce 
 Drake uppon information of ye Spa. ambassador," The in- 
 dorsement is in Burleigh's handwriting, and contains official 
 accounts of the plunder carried off by the bold navigator. So 
 also, " A summarye relacon of the harmes and robberies done by 
 Frauncis Drake, an Englishe man, w"* the assistauntz and helpe 
 of other Englishmen." Thus indorsed by Burleigh, "Franc. 
 Drakes voyadg to ye Sp. Indias." Also, 19, "An abridgement 
 of the relation and proves made againste S'. Fraunoes Drake, k*., 
 towchinge his doinges in the sowthe sea, beyonde the streighte 
 of Magalanus," The Spaniards now began to find that their 
 mare dausum was being invaded, and was to become a mare 
 liherum to their British rivals. 
 
 P. 114. In the emendation in the note, for " Britanna " read 
 '• Britanno." 
 
 P. 130. To the blessed Sainct, etc. — A duplicate of this is found 
 in the Jackson MS. No. 9, 
 
 P. 132. The Answere to the Libell. — Of this piece a copy also 
 occurs in the Ashmolean MS. 36, 37, art. 71, and in art. 72 we 
 get "An answere to the Wiper-away of the People's teares," 
 beginning, "Contemne not, gracious kinge, our plaints and 
 teares." 
 
 P. 138. Prince Henry. — The elegies on this darling of the 
 nation are numerous. See Ash. MS. 38, 323, "Uppon Prince 
 Henry. Header, wounder thinke it none." Black tells us, how- 
 ever, that it has been previously printed. So also another copy, 
 781, 75 ; also 96. Epitaph on Prince Henery, " I had no vaine 
 in verse." An interesting portrait of this young man is preserved 
 
 T 2 
 
ZOi Lilliat. 
 
 in tlie Bodleian Gallery: there does not appear to be any in- 
 tellectual promise stamped upon the face. 
 
 P. 192. Poems hy John Lilliat. — ^Lilliat has added a great many 
 pieces on the sheets bound up with the copy of Watson's 
 'EKaro/iTradla, a production, let me add, of very poor merit, 
 and in no way justifying the exuberant praise of Mr. Arber, who 
 finds in him a second Petrarch, and speaks of his sonnets as lost 
 pearls. Lilliat has also had his name printed in many parts of 
 the volume : thus the preface, commencing " John Lyly to the 
 Authour his friend," is signed John Lilliat; but on comparing 
 this name with other parts of the volume, we see that it has been 
 added since. Among the pieces composed or copied out by the 
 latter are — "A welcome to Cupid," "Dr. Goldingham his Ghost," 
 "A Melancholy Passion;" also "Lilliat, his Confused Chaos," and 
 " David's Dumpe." The writer was probably a Eoman Catholic. 
 As the last-mentioned poems are of no poetical merit, and deal 
 with general topics, I have not ventured to trouble the reader 
 with them. 
 
 P. 195. The Earl of Essex.- — We can realize to ourselves how 
 prominent a figure Essex was, by the abundance of fugitive 
 poetry and other literature with reference to him. In answer to 
 Bacon's attacks upon him, his admirers issued the following 
 publication after his death: — "An Apologie of the Earle of 
 Essex, against those which jealously and maliciously tax him to 
 be the hinderer of the peace and quiet of his country. Penned 
 by himself in Anno 1598. Imprinted 1603." 
 
 Among the Ashmolean MSS. are the following pieces relating 
 to Essex : — 
 
 No. 767, 1. "The buzzeing Bees complaynt. There was a 
 tyme when seylley bees could speake." iiesides the differ- 
 ent copies mentioned on page 240, we get this new version of 
 this not very meritorious poem, and also another, 781, 56. The 
 piece is alluded to by Eitsqn, and has also been published by 
 Mr. Park, in his edition of Walpole's " Eoyal and Noble Authors," 
 vol. ii. pp. 109-112. (Quoted by Black.) Tanner (Bibliotheca 
 Britannico-Hibernica), 1748, makes "The buzzing bees com- 
 plaint" to have been written by Essex. 767, 7, "By the Queene, 
 a Proclamation declaring the treasonable attempts and practices 
 of the Earl of Essex," etc. 781, 14. Letter from "The Lo; 
 Keeper Edgerton to the Earle of Essex, dated 12th of October, 
 1599," and (16) " The Earle of Essex answere to the Lo : 
 Keeper." 16. Letter from the Earl of Essex "To the sacred 
 Ma*'° of Queene Elizabeth." 20. Letter from "The Lady 
 (Penelope) Eich to the sacred Ma*'° of Queene Elizabeth " on 
 behalf of her brother. 
 
Ussecc and his Party. 
 
 305 
 
 P. 196. The Winning of C7ai!es.— Eawlinson MS. B. 259, 3, we 
 have the following curious tract : — 
 
 " An English Quid 
 For a Spanish Quo ; 
 God graunte one quayled 
 This quarreling foe : 
 or a true relation of the late honorable expedition and memor- 
 able exployte (God so assisting) performed by her ma*'^' moste 
 royall navy and army at Cadez, on the coaste of Spayne, in the 
 monthes of June and July last, this yeare of Christe oure Savyour 
 1596. Diligently collected, advisedly corrected, and owte of most 
 credible advertizments newly and truly written owte, by Richard 
 Bobinson, citizen of London, anno dicto mensis Ootob., fol. 47." 
 
 P. 207. The followers of Essex.— la. Ashmolean MS. 862, 44, 
 we have the following list of the confederates of Essex (in a hand 
 of the time of Queen Elizabeth) : — 
 Essex. 
 Eutlond. 
 Earles. { Sussex, close prisoner. 
 
 Sowthehampton. 
 Bedford. 
 
 Lordes. 
 
 Knightes. 
 
 Sandes. 
 
 MoounteguU. 
 
 Crumwell. 
 
 Lady Eiche. 
 
 Ferdinando Gorge (s). 
 
 Charles Davers. 
 
 WiU'to Cunstabull. 
 
 Anthone Pearsey. 
 
 John Pearsey. 
 
 John Davers. 
 
 Gwillam Merrick. 
 
 Henry Lensley. 
 
 Xp'ofer Blunt. 
 
 Henry Tracy slayne. 
 
 Thomas "West L. Delawares heyer. 
 
 Henry Cari of Kent. 
 
 Eob* Varnam. 
 
 Joh'n Haydoon. 
 
 Xp'ofer Haydofi. 
 
 Edward Bagnam. 
 
 Joh'n Litelton, 
 
 Yeaxley Pearsey. 
 
 Charles Pearsey. 
 
 JozapheU Pearsey. 
 
Slayu. < 
 
 306 Derrick. 
 
 George Manners. 
 
 Edward Michelboorne. 
 
 Eob't Evers. 
 
 Joh'n Throgmorton. 
 
 Joh'n Traoey. 
 
 Henry West of Kent. 
 
 Eob't Warner. 
 
 Captayn Leyceter. 
 
 Owen Salisbury. 
 
 Joh'n Salisbury. 
 V,, 209. Aakedfor (he executioner. — The name of this function- 
 ary has come down to us : it appears to have been Derrick. See 
 note to "The Trimming of Thomas Nash" (p. 62), reprinted in 
 Miscellanea Antiqua Anglicana, part ii., 1871, where the name is 
 said to be found in a contemporaneous ballad. We never appear 
 to have had a family to boast the hereditary honours of the 
 Sansons. 
 
 P. 252. The Disparinge Complainte. — Of this a duplicate is 
 found among the Ashmolean MSS. 36, 37, No. 10. It is alluded 
 to by Hannah, in his " Courtly Poets," 1870, where there is a very 
 complete account of poems by Ealeigh, or attributed to him, and 
 also relating to him. After the careful labours of this editor, 
 there is very little for a belated worker in the field to glean. 
 Certainly no fuller account of Sir Walter's fugitive pieces has 
 ever appeared. Dr. Hannah has also noticed " I speak -to such 
 if any such there be," but has only quoted a small portion of it. 
 Here also will be found printed the lines on page 269. It is a 
 comfort to think that, although many of the pieces ascribed to 
 Ealeigh are assigned to him on such duhious authority, he cannot 
 be robbed of the glorious sonnet on Spenser's " Faerie Queene," 
 which is his by indubitable title. Among the Ashmolean MSS., 
 781, 25, we find " Letter of S"^ Wa : Ealeigh to his Ma**" before 
 his tryall;" also, 24, "annother of his to his Ma"° after his 
 condemnation ; " we also have (32) " Carey Ealeigh's petition 
 to his Ma"" for his father." 
 
 P. 271. When you awake, dull Brittons. — ^A copy of this poem 
 is also to be found among the Ash. MSS., 88, 14, and also in 
 the Jacksonian MS. at Edinburgh. 
 
 P. 274. Por EUesmere, Thomas Egerton, Bacon, read Baron. 
 P. 290. Verses on Queen Anne. — Of course we must not lose 
 the point of Anna perenna, which occurs in Ovid's Fasti, 3654, 
 and is supposed to be an epithet of the goddess of the moon. 
 
 P. 299. In obitum Henrici Frederici. — The same kind of idea 
 as that at the conclusion of this piece is also found in the fol- 
 
Tears for the Queen. 307 
 
 lowing lines, copied likewise in the Jackson MS. They have 
 been printed before, but deserve quotation on account of their 
 grotesque quaintness. I have seen them attributed to Dekker. 
 
 " In reginam felicissimae memoriae. 
 
 The Queene they rowde from Eiohmond to Whitehall, 
 At euery stroake salt teares the oares let fall. 
 More clung about the boate,' sith vnder water 
 Wept out their eyes of pearle, and swome blind after. 
 I thincke the Bargemen might with easier thighes 
 Haue rowed her thither in her peoples eyes ; 
 Yet howsoe're, thus much my thoughts haue scann'd, 
 Sh' ade gone by water, had she gone by land." 
 
 The reader will observe that by an unfortunate oversight the 
 name of Elizabeth's great minister is written sometimes Burley 
 at others Burleigh : both forms, however, are frequently found. 
 
 » ?fish. 
 
 =-c->e>«-<ojtg)'^><s>'^>-» 
 
309 
 
 INDEX OF THE FIEST LINES. 
 
 A thiieefould mother God the gaue 
 
 Alas ! to whom shuld I complayne 
 
 Althoughe 1 bee not cladd in golde 
 
 And fyrste we wilbe gyn with ower moste welbe Louyd 
 
 Attend awhile ,..,,. 
 
 Behold the pourtractof faire vertues Queene 
 
 Campian is a Champion .... 
 Cara Deo, taedis olarissima, prole beata 
 
 Ehza, that great Maiden Queen, lies here 
 Englande ! thou haste cause to complayne . 
 
 Good God ! what will at lenght become of vs ? 
 Gracious Princesse, Where princes are in place 
 Great heart, who taught thee so to dye 
 Great Verulam is very-lame, the gout of go-out feeling 
 
 Happy were he could [he] finish forth his fate 
 
 I greive, and dare not shewe my discontent . 
 I meruayle much at spitefuU spiders giues . 
 
 I prepare with speed 
 
 I speake to such, if anie such there bee 
 
 I tell ye aU, both great and small . 
 
 If bleeding soules, delected heartes, find grace 
 
 If Sa"*" in heauen can either see or heare 
 
 In sad and ashye weedes I sigh, I pine, I grieue, 
 
 Is chaste Susanna in the ludges handes ? 
 
 Is righteous Lot from sinful Sodome gone ? . 
 
 It was a time when sillie Bees could speake . 
 
 Kings, Queens, mens, ludgments eyes . 
 
 Late, wearied TOthe my day lie toyle 
 London, london, singe and praise thy lord ! . 
 
 I moume 
 
 FAOV 
 
 291 
 
 62 
 
 1 
 
 151 
 
 193 
 
 287 
 
 164 
 290 
 
 102 
 24 
 
 217 
 
 73 
 
 269 
 
 277 
 
 205 
 
 68 
 192 
 109 
 262 
 
 98 
 137 
 130 
 292 
 187 
 175 
 241 
 
 101 
 
 5 
 
310 
 
 INDEX OF THE FIKST LINES. 
 
 Muaes no more, but Mazes be your names . 
 Must it be soe, iust Heauens, that still the best 
 Myne hert is set vppone a lusty pynne 
 My prime of youth is but a frost of cares. 
 
 England, now lament in teares 
 O God, from sacred throne beholde 
 O God, from sacred throne beholde 
 stay your teares, you who complaine 
 
 Poore England ! for how canst thou be but poore 
 
 Eemember Campione, how he died, that worthy wight 
 Else, P my Muge, mournful! Melpomene ! , 
 
 Sola precor vel iuncta uiro sit Virgo Britannio , 
 
 So Lycke as your Commendacyons, by vs in all poynts 
 
 byn vzid '.'.'.' 
 
 S"" Francis, S"^ Francis, S"^ Francis is come , 
 
 hathe 
 
 The kinge of ffrance shall Hot advance his shippes in English 
 
 The man of life vpright whose giltles heart is free 
 
 The \yaies pn earth h^ue paths and turnings knowne . 
 
 Thus farre the foul-mouth'd Greeke Simonides 
 
 Thus in the deare memoriaU of my duety . 
 
 To whome.shall cursed I my case complaine ? 
 
 To wiyte you comendations 
 
 Vicecomes Sanctus Albanus CanceUarius Anglicanus 
 
 What cause haue al good subiects to complayne 
 What doth more glad the harts of men ? 
 What yron hart that wold not melt in greefe ? 
 What iron hart, that would not melt in woe ? 
 What will it avayle, on fortune to exclame ? . 
 When you awake, dxill Brittons, and behould 
 Why do I vse my paper, inke, and penne ? 
 Why doo I vse my paper, inke, and pen ? 
 Within a Place, or Pallace, richlye dight 
 
 yf Gretiafls stout did right extoU 
 
 Youe Muses, guid my quiuering quill . 
 
 Your letter large of lewde effecte we longe synna have reoey vyd 
 
311 
 
 GEMRAL mDEX. 
 
 Abbott (Dr.) informs Gamett that he 
 is ordered for execution, xxxv. 
 
 Acolamatio Patriae; or, the Powder 
 Treasons, 39. 
 
 Albert, Archduke, Fawkes takes service 
 under him, sxviii. 
 
 Anjou, Duke of, a suitor, 67; irri- 
 tated at the caprice of Elizabeth, 
 ibid; her verses on his departure, 
 68; his worthless character, 68; 
 the Mounsieur from Prance, 98 ; 
 lines on Elizabeth's projected mar- 
 riage with Anion, 114. 
 
 Anne, Queene, verses on death of, 290. 
 
 Answere (The) to the Libell called 
 The Commons Teares, etc., 132. 
 
 Antonio, Don, 195. 
 
 Ascham, Koger, quoted to show Eliza- 
 beth's proficiency in Greek, 67. 
 
 Ashby St. Ledgers, seat of the Catesbys 
 at,"ixvii. 
 
 Aubrey on tobacco, 244, 
 
 Babington, Anthonye, his conspiracy, 
 xi; details of his family, xiii ; he apes 
 the London dandy, xv; he decoys 
 Tichboume,XT ; his supposed letter to 
 Mary, xvii ; personal description of, 
 xviii ; acknowledges his secret corre- 
 spondence, XX ; last letter and execu- 
 tion, xxi; his deportment on the 
 scaffold, ibid; some contemporary 
 ballads concerning, xxv; "the Com- 
 playnte of, 5. 
 
 Bacon, his works, 270. 
 
 Dr. Lewis, his foolish invectiue 
 
 against the Parliament for prooeed- 
 ingc to censure his Lord Verulame, 
 271 ; Latin verses on, 277 ; verses 
 upon his fall, ibid. 
 
 Bacon, Verses made by Mr. Pra., 278. 
 
 Ballard makes a tour through England, 
 
 XV. 
 
 Barrow, 150 ; mentioned by Boorde and 
 Hall, ibid. Probably Bergen -op - 
 Zoom or Berchem. 
 
 Bates, Thomas, his execution, xxxii. 
 
 Bedford, Prancis Eussell, Earl of, 121, 
 
 Bellamy, Jerome, xix. 
 
 Bland, John, letter to,'142. 
 
 Boar's Head, 147. 
 
 Bockyngam, Dnke of, his lament, 61 ; 
 Holinshed's account of his sentence, 
 ibid. 
 
 Brief relation, a, of which happened 
 in the expedition of the Lord Lieu- 
 tenant General! of Ireland, etc., 199. 
 
 Bu'cklersbury, 146, full of grocers' 
 shops, and in the time of Shakspere 
 inhabited by apothecaries, 147. The 
 Black boy in Buoklersbury, ibid. 
 
 Burleigh, William Cecil, Lord, 124. 
 
 Byron, Sir John, knighted by James I., 
 
 Camden, his remarks on the linguistic 
 acquirements of Elizabeth, 67 ; his ac- 
 count of the punishment of Stubbs, 68. 
 
 Campion, Poems relating to, 167 ; his 
 life, 161 ; he lands at Dover, 162 ; 
 he is taken at Lydford, Berks, 163 ; 
 his condemnation and death, 164; 
 Campion, a Libell touching, ibid; 
 vpon the death of M. Edmund 
 Campion, one of the Sooietie of the 
 holy name of Jesus, 166 ; an other 
 vpon the same, 173; Complaynt 
 (the) of a Catholike for the death of 
 M. Edmund Campion, 177; Verses 
 in the Libell made in prayse of the 
 death of Maister Campion, 180 ; an- 
 other upon the same, 185 ; the com- 
 plaint of a Christian remembring 
 the vnnaturall treasons of Edmund 
 Campion, etc., 189. 
 
 Candlewick Letters, The, 142 ; deriva- 
 tion of the word, ibid. 
 
 Candlewick Crew, Answer of, 153. 
 
 Carleton, Sir Dudley, his letter on the 
 execution of Gamett, ixxv. 
 
 Catesby, history of the family, xxvii ; 
 killed at Holbeach, xxxi. 
 
312 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 Cecil, implied by name Synon, 205 ; 
 
 Essex wishes to remove him from the 
 
 Queen, 252 ; a short notice of, 297 ; 
 
 Verses upon his death, ibid. 
 Cezarins, the, 80. 
 Champion, the draper, mentions of him 
 
 and his family, 146. 
 Clink, the, xiv. 
 Cobham, Essex ■wishes to remove him 
 
 from the Queen, 252. 
 Coke, his cruelty to Garnett at his trial, 
 
 xxviii. 
 Collier, Mr. J, P., xxiv, xxv, 92, 150, 
 
 286. 
 Cook, Mr. Thomas, in conjunction with 
 
 Mr. Kidman, witnesses execution of 
 
 Essex, 208. 
 Copping, John, hanged in 1683, 104. 
 Cuckoo, an allusion to Ealeigh, 250. 
 Cuffe, Henry, said to have urged on the 
 
 conspiracy of Essex, 240 ; his Poem 
 
 on Essex, ibid ; his speech at his 
 
 execution, ibid; what Wotton says 
 
 of him, 241. 
 Cunningham, tortured by express orders 
 
 of James I., xxix. 
 
 Damley, his fate may have suggested 
 the Gunpowder Plot, xxvii. 
 
 Dekker, his Gull's Hornbook, xiv, 85, 
 146. 
 
 Derby, Henry Stanley, Earl of, 126. 
 
 Deventer Crew, Letters, No. 1, 144; 
 No. 2, 149. 
 
 Dialogue betwene a CathoUke and Con- 
 solation, 175. 
 
 Digby, Sir Everard, implicated in the 
 Gunpowder Plot, xxx ; his execution, 
 xxxii. 
 
 Disraeli, Isaac, his account of Tich- 
 boume, xxii. 
 
 Dixon, Mr. Hepworth, his severe criti- 
 cism of Garnett, xxxiv ; his opinion on 
 the conduct of Bacon to Essex, 207. 
 
 Downynge, John, letter from, to his 
 friend Bland, 142. 
 
 Drake, Sir Francis, pleasantries on his 
 name, 99, 106 ; chair made out of 
 the ship in which he circumnavigated 
 the world, ibid ; two curious pamph- 
 lets illustrating his life, ibid. 
 
 Drayoot, Margery, marries Babington, 
 
 XV. 
 
 Dunbar, 163. 
 
 Dunsnioor heath. Gunpowder Plot con- 
 spirators to assemble at, xxx. 
 
 Dzialinski, Paul (sometimes called Paul 
 Jalinus), makes a Latin speech before 
 Elizabeth, 67. 
 
 Earle, Bp.,his description of a dandy, xv. 
 
 Earle, Mr., 112, 132. 
 
 Effingham, Charles Lord Howard of, 
 127. 
 
 Elderton, a noted baUad- writer, 170. 
 
 Eliot, George, betrays Campion, 169. 
 
 Elizabeth, how she appeared to Hentz- 
 ner, 69. 
 
 Lord Sane, 92. 
 
 A poem in praise of Queen, 96. 
 
 Vpon the death of Queen, 98. 
 
 On Queene, Queene of Eng- 
 land, 101. 
 
 On Queen, Epitaph, 102. 
 
 (Queen) Eejoycing, 112. 
 
 Latin verses on proposed 
 
 marriage with Anjou, 114. 
 
 To the blessed Sainct of 
 
 famose memory. The humble petition 
 of her now wretched and contempt- 
 ible ye Commons of England, 130. 
 
 Ellis, Thomas, in praise of Erobisher, 
 282. 
 
 Essex, Eobert Earl of, his position at 
 the Court of Elizabeth, 195 ; his ex- 
 ploits at Cadiz, 196; the animosi^ 
 between him and Ealeigh, 197 ; his 
 unfortunate Irish expedition, 198 ; 
 meeting between him and O'Neil, 
 203 ; his verses sent to and abrupt ap- 
 pearance before Elizabeth, 205 ; his 
 rebellion, 206; trial, 207; and two 
 contemporary accounts of his execu- 
 tion, 208, 211 ; probably not a mere 
 courtier, 214; a dance named after 
 him, ibid ; his children, 215 ; list of 
 some books written on his fate, ibid; 
 verses on the report of the death of, 
 217 ; a poem made on (being in dis- 
 grace with Queen Eliz.) by Cuffe, 240 ; 
 connexion between Essex and Cuffe, 
 ibid ; elegy on, 245 ; his delicacy to 
 his Mends, 246 ; the attempt to put 
 Don Antonio on the throne, 247. 
 
 against Sir 
 
 "Walter Eawleigh, 260. 
 
 ■ verses made by the Earle of, in 
 
 his trouble, 261. 
 Essex, Walter Earl of, father of the 
 above, died in Ireland, perhaps 
 poisoned, 216; the song which ne 
 sung upon his death-bed, ibid. 
 
GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 313 
 
 Fawkes, Edward, a notary of York, 
 xxviii. 
 
 Fawkes, Guy, son of a notary of York, 
 xxviii ; his adventures in the Nether- 
 lands, ibid ; he is tortured, xxix ; 
 his desperate attitude when arrested, 
 ibid; his execution, xxxiii; "Williams' 
 account of him and his "popishe 
 trash," xxxvi. 
 
 Forman, Dr. Simon, his curious dream 
 about Queen Elizabeth, 70 ; his con- 
 nexion with the murder of Sir 
 Thomas Overbury, ibid ; he is men- 
 tioned by Ben Jonson, 71 ; further 
 extracts from his curious papers, ibid; 
 his poems on "Warwick and Frobisher, 
 279 ; extract from his diary concern- 
 ing Shakspere's Macbeth, ibid. 
 
 Forsett, placed in ambush to hear con- 
 versation between Garnett and Old- 
 ■ come, xxxT. 
 
 Frobisher, a short sketch of his life, 281. 
 
 Thomas Ellis in praise of, 282. 
 
 John Kirkham of Martin, 
 
 284. 
 
 Fumivall, Mr., edits Laneham's letter, 
 90, Boorde, 102, 160, and Percy 
 Folio, 196. 
 
 Fynes-Clinton, Edward, 117. 
 
 Garnett, the Jesuit, hidden at Hendlip, 
 
 xxiiii. 
 . — ^ — abused by Mr. Hepworth Dixon, 
 
 xxxiv. 
 Gerard's Autobiography, 158. 
 Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, his death, 101. 
 Gondomar, Diego Sarraiento de Acufia, 
 
 Conde de, instrumental in causing 
 
 the execution of Ealeigh, 261. 
 Green, Mrs. Everett, her lives of the 
 
 Princesses of England, 298. 
 Gunpowder Plot (The), xxvi. 
 
 Hall, Bishop, quoted, 198. 
 
 Hall's Chronicle, 160. 
 
 Hallam, his opinion of Essex, 240. 
 
 Hannah, Dr., his "Courtly Poets," 269. 
 
 Hardiman's Irish Minstrelsy, 199. 
 
 Hartie (A) thankes giuinge to God for 
 
 our queenes most excellent maiestie, 
 
 etc., 109. 
 Hastings, Henry, Earl of, 101. 
 Hayward, Doctor, his book on Henry 
 
 IV. had a prejudicial effect on the 
 
 position of Essex, 205. 
 Hazlitt, Carew, 72, 192. 
 
 Henrici Frederic! majoris natu Frederici 
 comitis Palatini in obitum, 299. 
 
 Henry, Prince, allusions to, 138 ; an 
 epitaph on y^ second Alexander, 291 ; 
 ad eundem, ibid; the good Sheep- 
 heards sorrow for the death of his 
 Sonne, 292. 
 
 Hentzner (Paul), a German, his account 
 of Queen Elizabeth, 69. 
 
 Hinton, Benjamin, author of verses on 
 Cecil, minister of Hendon, 299. 
 
 History of the "World, by fialeigh, 261. 
 
 Holstein, Duke of, a suitor for the hand 
 of Elizabeth, 129. 
 
 Horsey, Jerome, his talk with Elizabeth 
 about her wishing to learn Eussian, 
 66. 
 
 Howell, James, quotation from the 
 Epistolse Ho-Elianse, 261. 
 
 Hudibras, 130. 
 
 Humphreys, Regius Professor of Divi- 
 nity at Oxford, at first takes the side 
 of the Puritans, but afterwards con- 
 forms, 103. 
 
 Hunsdon, Lord, 121. 
 
 Huntingdon, Henry Hastings, Earl of, 
 124. 
 
 Irving, "Washington, his paper on Kew- 
 stead Abbey, xxxviii. 
 
 Ivan Vasilievitch (the IVth), his cruel- 
 ties, 66 ; he sends a letter in Russian 
 to Elizabeth, ibid. 
 
 Jackson MS., Poems from, 286. 
 
 James I., servile spirit of his times, 132; 
 "WaUer overhears a conversation be- 
 tween him and two bishops, xxxvii ; 
 his character and works, 288 ; pro- 
 phecy of Buchanan to, 289. 
 
 Jonson, Ben, mentions Forman, 71. 
 
 Kempe, G."W., his ballad on Babington, 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Kirkham, John, of Martin Frobisher, 
 
 284. 
 Knevett, Sir Thomas, arrests Fawkes, 
 
 xxxi. 
 Knight, Charles, his "London" quoted, 
 
 70, 205. 
 Knightes made in Erland, 1599, by the 
 
 E. essex, 204. 
 
 Labanoff, Prince, quoted, xvi. 
 Lee, foreman of the jury at Campion's 
 trial, 169 
 
314 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 Leicester, Dudley, Earl of, the cele- 
 brated favourite of Elizabeth, his 
 conduct in the Netherlands, 102. 
 See also 119. 
 
 Lewis, Dr. 'William, Bacon's chaplain, 
 and afterwards Provost of Oriel, 270. 
 
 his foolish invectiue against 
 
 the Parlament for proceedinge to 
 censure his Lord Verulame, 271. 
 
 Lilliat, John, some poems by him found 
 at the end of Watson's 'EKOTo/tiroflfo, 
 but nothing known of his life, was 
 perhaps a teacher of music, 1^2. 
 
 Lilliat, his Maleoontent, 193. 
 
 Lilly, his account of Forman, 70. 
 
 Lingard, his list of Roman Catholic 
 sufferers, xii, also 200, 245. 
 
 Littleton, Stephen, hides in a barley- 
 mow at Hagley, xxxi. 
 
 Littleton, 'Mr.,- said to have paid 
 Ealeigh £10,000, 260. 
 
 Lockerson, placed in ambush to hear 
 conversation between Garnett and 
 Oldcorne, xxxv. 
 
 Longfellow, his poem on Gilbert, 101. 
 
 Marlowe, Christopher, 192, 262. 
 Mawd, Arthur, his letters, ] 44, 149. 
 Method, A, not sharply Englished, 114. 
 Miracles supposed to have occurred at 
 
 the execution of Garnett, xxxv. 
 Mirror of Magistrates, the, 4. 
 Montagu, Anthony. Browne, Viscount, 
 
 118. 
 Morris, Father, quoted, xvii. 
 Most (To the) high and mighty, the 
 
 most piouse and mercifuU, ye cheife 
 
 Chancellor of Heauen and Judge of 
 
 Earthe, etc., 137. 
 Mounteagle (Lord) receives mysterious 
 
 letter, ixix. 
 Munday, Anthony, 158, 159. 
 
 Nash's Pierce Penniless, 150. 
 
 Nau, secretary of Mary Queen of Scots, 
 xviii. 
 
 Neal's History of the Puritans, 103. 
 
 Nonconformity in the time of Elizabeth, 
 103 ; spread of, in the Eastern Coun- 
 ties, 104 ; petition of Nonconformists 
 to the Lords of the Council, 106. 
 
 Northamptonshire, its historical asso- 
 ciations, xxviii. 
 
 Oldcorne, a Jesuit, hidden at Hendlip, 
 xxxiii. 
 
 Oriel College, Baleigh sometime a 
 member of, 260 ; Dr. Lewis, Provost 
 of, 270. 
 
 Owen, servant of Garnett, commits 
 suicide, xxxiv. 
 
 Papists, Against the, for thinking it' 
 meritorious to kill the King, etc., 293. 
 
 Paradise of Dainty Devises, the, con- 
 tains a poem on 'Walter Earl of 
 Essex, 216. . 
 
 Parker, Abp. of Canterbury, sends a mes- 
 sage to the Bishop of Norwich, 104. 
 
 Parkhurst, Bishop of Norwich, favours 
 the Puritans, 104. 
 
 Paulet, Sir A., Mary's jailor, xvii. 
 
 Pembroke, Henry Herbert, Earl of, 126. 
 
 Pepys, Samuel, Ms opinion of Hudibras, 
 286. 
 
 Percy killed at Holbeach, xiiL 
 
 Peresonne, Paul, his letters, 144, 149. 
 
 Phelipps deciphers letters of Babington 
 correspondence, xvii. 
 
 Pius v., his bull against Elizabeth, ix. 
 
 Pliny quoted, 244. 
 
 Plumber's Hall, the Puritans propose 
 a meeting at, 103. 
 
 Pound, of Cheshire (Mr.), punishment 
 of, xxvi. 
 
 Proclamations, Eoyal, 136. 
 
 Puttenham, George, his praise of Eliza- 
 beth's poetry, 67 ; bis Partheniades, 
 72; he is attacked by Sir John 
 Harington, ibid; he presents his 
 p6em to the Queen on New Tear's 
 Day, 1579, 73 ; hisArtof Eng. Poesie 
 quoted, 77; his philosophical re- 
 marks, 82. 
 
 Queue's (the) Ma. prayer at the goinge 
 owt of the Navye, 197. 
 
 Raleigh, Sir "Walter, Essex meditated 
 removing him from the Queen's 
 Councils, 252 ; on his death, 269. 
 
 Rawleigh, Robert Earl of Essex against, 
 250 ; he is the cuckoo implied, ibid. 
 
 ■ the dispaiinge complainte of 
 
 wretched, for his treacheries wrought 
 against the worthie Essex, 252. 
 
 Caueat to secure Courtiers, 
 
 262. 
 
 Reliquary, the, quoted, xix, xxi, xxii. 
 Remember Campione, how he died, etc., 
 
 191. 
 Robsai't, Amy, her funeral, 161. 
 
GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 315 
 
 Eoolcwood, Edward, dies in prison, 
 
 xxvU. 
 Budolph, of Germany, one of the foreign 
 
 Knights of the Garter, 129. 
 
 Sainct, to the blessed of f amose memory, 
 etc., 103. 
 
 Sampson, Dean of Christ Church, 103. 
 
 Scott, Sir W., his character of James I. 
 in the " Fortunes of Nigel," 288. 
 
 Shatspere, his account in "Henry 
 VIII." of the condemnation of 
 Buckingham, 61 ; his praise of Eliza- 
 beth's reign, 94; he alludes to the 
 return of Essex from Ireland in 
 " Henry V.," 205. 
 
 Shirley, Mr., his theory as to the place 
 where Essex and O'Neil met, 198. 
 
 Shrewsbury, Earl of, 119. 
 
 Simonides, his satire on women, 96. 
 
 Skelton, John, 153. 
 
 Slawata, the Bohemian, presents letters 
 to Elizabeth, 69. 
 
 Southampton .implicated with Essex, 
 208 ; Daniel's lines to, ibid. 
 
 Spedding, Mr., considers that Bacon 
 was not guilty of treachery towards 
 Essex, 207; importance of his edition 
 of Bacon, 270. 
 
 Spenser celebrates Elizabeth, 66; his 
 pamphlet on Ireland, 102 ; his ac- 
 count of Tanistry quoted, 203. 
 
 Spider's Web, the, or Anacharsis say- 
 inge of Solon's written Lawes, 192. 
 
 Stalls, three vacant, among Knights of 
 Garter in 1582, 129. 
 
 Staunton, Mr., his edition of Shak- 
 spere, 110. 
 
 Stow, his account of Candlewick Street, 
 142. 
 
 Strickland, Agnes, 130. 
 
 Stubbs, his "Gaping Gulfe," 68; he 
 loses his hand, ibid. 
 
 Strype, his Annals, 105. 
 
 Suffolk, the copie of the petition of the 
 gentlemen of, 105. 
 
 Sussex, Thomas Eatcliffe, Earl of, 117. 
 
 Sydney, Sir Henry, 122. 
 
 Synon, probably Cecil, 205. 
 
 Tanistry, explained by Spenser, 203, 
 Tarleton, Eichard, a noted mimus of 
 
 the period, 92; his mention in the 
 
 " Marriage of VVit and Science," ibid ; 
 
 some of his jest books, ibid. 
 Teshe, Thomas, his Verses on the Order 
 
 of the Garter, 115. 
 Thacker, Elias, hanged in 1583, 104. 
 Tichbourne, Chidiock, his speech on the 
 . scaffold, XT ; he is decoyed by Bab- 
 
 ingtonintoconspiracy,xxii; his letter 
 
 to his wife, ibid ; his last verses, xxiii. 
 Tresham tries to induce Catesby to 
 
 abandon conspiracy, xxx ; his death, 
 
 xxxii. 
 Tytler quoted, xvi. 
 
 Vallenger, a ballad- writer, 157. 
 Vicars, his life, 286 ; his poem on 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, 287. 
 Virginia, Ealeigh attempts to found a 
 
 colony in, 260. 
 
 "Waad, Sir William, his account of 
 Tresham's death, xxxii. 
 
 Waller, the poet, overhears a curious 
 conversation between King James 
 and two bishops, xxxvii ; his boast of 
 the spread of English influence. 111. 
 
 Walsingham, Sir Francis, his interfer- 
 ence in the Babington plot, xiii; 128. 
 
 Warwick, Ambrose Dudley, Earl of, 120 ; 
 Forman's poem in praise of, 279 ; he 
 assists Frobisher, 281. 
 
 Watson's 'EKaT0;«ira6(a, 160. 
 
 Williams, Eichard, his oppressive 
 loyalty, xxxvi ; offers poems to King 
 James, xxxvii ; grant of lands to a 
 certain, xxxix ; presents a petition for 
 increase of pay, xxxix ; perhaps an 
 old soldier who had served under 
 Essex, 214. 
 
 Wilton, Arthur Lord Grey de, 125. 
 
 Winter accuses Lord Mounteagle of 
 complicity, xxx. 
 
 Winter-King, the, 298. _ 
 
 Winthrop, John, an eminent Puritan, 
 104. 
 
 Worcester, William Somerset, Earl of, 
 123. 
 
 Wotton speaks very cautiously about 
 his connexion with Cuffe, 241 ; quo- 
 tations from his Eeliquise Wotton- 
 ianee, ibid. 
 
 STEPHEN AUSTIN AND SONS, TRINTEBS, HERTFORD.