PART II.

By THOMAS BLENER-HASSET.

[Reprinted from the edition of 1578, collated with that of 1610.] ]

THE PRINTER TO

THE FRIENDLY READER.

[Before the edition 1578.]

Gentle Reader, I trustyng in thy accustomed kyndnesse, haue published this booke, entituled, _The Second part of the Mirrour for Magistrates_, the authour whereof, is now beyond the seas, and wyl marueile at his returne to find thys imprinted. For his intent was but to profite and pleasure one priuate man, as by his Epistle may appeare. But I fyndyng the copie by chaunce, shewing it vnto diuers men, both learned and wise: and findyng a booke alredy in print, entituled _The first and third part of the Mirrour for Magistrates_, I was moued diuersly of diuers men, by printyng this latter woorke, to make perfite the former booke. It may be (good reader) that the friendely acceptyng hereof wyll encourage the authour to set thynges of greater price in print: yet esteeme thou this as a lanterne, hauyng lyght sufficient to guyde thy wandryng steppes, both vnto the happynesse of this worlde, and of the world to come. Whiche happynesse God graunt wee all may enioye.

THE AUTHOUR’S EPISTLE

VNTO HIS FRIENDE.

[Before the edition 1578.]

Sir, it woulde be too manifest an argument of a nature degeneratyng from al gentrie, if I shoulde not consider of your request, you asking and vrging both honest and profitable thyngs. I therfore to ensure you, that I am not forgetful of your demaund, presumyng like blynd _Bayard_ to this my boldnesse, haue not with _Apolloe’s_ pensile, but with _Pan’s_ pleasantlesse pen, indeuoured to endite that which you are so desirous to haue done. And although I once translated for you, _Ouid, De remedio amoris_, as you said, to your contentation, we beyng then in _Cambridge_, where aske helpe, and haue helpe, might be had: yet nowe I wyl ensure you, lyke one amazed, I haue strayned my strength vnto the vttermost, being desirous to finish this woorke. You know that loue matters be agreeing with _Caliope’s_ quill; euery apprentise can, of such matter, make a meter. But how hard a thing it is to compell _Clio_, with her boysterous banners, to couch vnder the compasse of a few metered lines, I referre you vnto the good _Turberuile_, who so soone as he began to take the terrible treatise of _Lucan_ in hand, he was inforst to vnyoke his steeres, and to make holy day.[1164] Shal I then with _Bochas_ pen declare the falles of the vnfortunate Princes of the olde worlde? O, intollerable presumption, that timorous _Tyro_ shoulde dare to deale with menasing _Mars_: or that a young infant should offer to put on the buskins of _Hercules_: shall I then with silence ceasse to accomplish your request? O, singuler ingratitude, that any friend should refuse to sweate, to pleasure and profite his friend. Doo you not consider, that al the fine wyts that England hath inioyed these many yeres, haue busied their braynes very much, to make an English _Mirrour for Magistrates_, which booke is left euen vnto this day, like the vnperformed image of _Venus_, paynted by _Apelles_? no man is able to finish the work, which they with _Homer’s_ hawtie heroycal style haue begunne: and yet you woulde haue me (the least of the poets,) to make trial what I am able to doo therin. But me thinke I do heare you say, as you were woont, we being conuersant together: “What meane al these wordes? thou knowest that the vayne of thy verse doth most delight my humor. And seeing it is but for my priuate study, what meane you to allege all these allegations, as though _Orestes_ were _Zoilus_?” Syr, I confesse al this to be true: yet this I speake, to signifie vnto you, howe willyng the good wyl I doo beare vnto you hath made me, being otherwise vnwillyng to beare a sayle in such rough weather, where euery sea is ready to deuoure me. And when with sayles and oares (as they say,) I with al my diligence endeuoured to compasse the thing nowe accomplished, I founde myselfe euen in the myddest of the matter, clapt close with _Theseus_, in a returnable labarinth, to fight with despayre that miserable _Minotaur_: where, when I could finde no _Ariadne_, to lende me a bottome of twist, I looked that _Parcæ_ shoulde haue shread my twyne before my returne. Yet at the last wandring _Erato_, with her sister _Terpsichore_ perceiuing me with such diligence to trauise that maze, they willing to helpe the desyres of my mynd, said thus vnto me:

Come forth thou wandring wight this way, Doo followe vs outright: We geue thee leaue, with poets’ penne, On Princes’ falles to write.

Wherewith they leadyng me vnto the fountayne _Permestus_, I without any further determination, gallopped through the rest, whiche when leysure shall geue you leaue to reade, ceasse then to thinke on the L. _Buchurst_, or _Sackuyll_,[1165] let _Gascon_ and _Churchyarde_ be forgotten. And if you chaunce to see the meter, or matter, not so well polished, as beseemeth, then remember that they whose falles I haue here penned, were not of late tyme, but suche as lyued presently after the incarnation of Christe: and I haue not thought it decent, that the men of the olde worlde shoulde speake with so garnished a style, as they of the latter tyme.

Moreouer, you may, if you please to consider that souldiers, of whiche I am one by profession, wee be not alwayes lusking in our forte or castle, but be as tyme and occasion wyll permyt, here to-day, wee knowe least our selues where tomorrowe. And I wyll ensure you, the most part of these my Princes dyd pleade their causes vnto me euen in the sea, a place, in fayth, not meete to penne Tragedies. And as for bookes, I was altogether destitute: for when I, to please my fantasie, trauayled (as you knowe) I could not beare about with me a library: but for cariage sake, contented myself with these foure: With the third _Decade of Titus Liuye_, with _Bossewell’s Concordes of Armorie_, with _Monsignor de Lange_, that notable warriour, and with the vnperfect _Mirrour for Magistrates_: which bookes made nothing to this purpose. I had not those Chronicles whiche other men had: my Memorie and Inuention were vnto me in stead of _Grafton_, _Polidore_, _Cooper_, and suche like, who dyd greatly ayde other men. And last of al you must consider, that the other part of the miseries of those miserable Princes were written, I sittyng on a rocke in the sea, not in Spaine, Italie, Fraunce, Scotlande, or Englande, but in Garnzie Castle, where although there be learned men, yet none whiche spende their tyme so vainely as in Poetrie. So that the complaintes of these men were written (as I say) where the want of helpe dyd diuersly daunt me with despayre. You haue greatly requested me by your last letter, to make vnto you a discourse of the Ile of Garnzie, and howe it is possible for the castle to be a place so pleasaunt for habitation, as I haue reported it, seeing it standeth in the Sea, separate from any lande. Good Syr, to write thereof (so manyfolde be the commodities and thinges woorthy the writyng of) woulde rather require a good volume, then a peece of an epistle. Let it therefore suffice for this tyme, that I by writyng vnto you some fewe lines of the Gouernour, I may briefely declare what the gouernement and commodities be. The right woorshipful Maister Thomas Leighton is her Maiesties Lieutenaunt there.

Syr, I doo remember, howe constant _Constantine the Great_ was in religion, and howe that noble Emperour mynded the reformation thereof. You knowe howe carefull _Licurgus_ and _Solon_ were, for making of good lawes, and ministring of iustice. And histories doo recorde, howe passing happye _Epaminundas_ was in al his affayres: but what a seemely sight is it, to see al these vertues so to concurre in one man, that hee who shoulde compare hym with them, should, I wyl ensure you, doo hym great iniurie? for (that I may briefly conclude) vndoubtedly a few such men as he is, being plaste at a Princes’ elbow, were sufficient to keepe the most ruinous commonweale that is, from ruine and destruction. And now iudge you the commodities of the countrey, by the goodnesse of the Gouernour, for as Seneca sayeth:--

Where Gouernours be good, and rule their charge aright, Without an ebbe there flowes the flood, which vertuous minds delight.

And heere I doo turne me from these thinges, vntill by talke with you, I may dilate more at large therof, and returning myselfe vnto my former purpose, I haue not thought it conuenient to write the complaynts of these men, with so obscure a stile as some other haue done, but with so playne an exposition, that he who doth reade them, shall not neede to be an _Oedipus_, for euery playne _Dauus_ shall by reading them, easily vnderstand the authour’s drift. And because _Diligence_ and _Memorie_ bee all the helpers that I haue, therefore I haue ordayned them, as the chief workers of my wyll. _Higgins_ vsed (I know not what) _Morpheus_, the god of dreames, but I dreamt not. The other had _Baldwine_ for their hearer, but I haue diligent _Inquisition_, who can finde out al things, and _Memorie_, who knoweth al thinges, for the arbiters of my matter. Take you therefore, the fruites of these my idle howres, sent vnto you with a good wyll, and according vnto the trust reposed in you, keepe these trifles from the view of all men, and as you promysed, them not raunge out of your priuate study. And thus wishing vnto you honour, and long lyfe, I ende, the 15 daye of Maye, An. 1577.

Your Friende to vse.

THOMAS BLENER HASSET.

[[1166]THE INDUCTION.

“Diligent _Inquisition_,” saieth _Memorie_, “beholde in the bottom lesse pyt of blind _Obliuion_: there remayneth as yet a multitude, who although in their tyme, they were of all men most famous, and euen in this our time, their ensamples be patternes passing singular, to refourme the deformities of this age, notwithstanding they are so couered and hidden with those mistie cloudes of fylthy forgetfulnes, that if thou _Inquisition_ doest not with all dilygent inquiry, and I _Memorye_, (who haue howrded vp in my treasury the knowledge of all thinges) except wee with all our industrye, doo endeuour our selues, they are not lyke euer to come into the light. For at what time those barbarous nations, (I meane the _Gothes_, _Hunes_, and _Danes_) dyd with so great outrage ouerrunne all the worlde: euen then the auncient historyes and recordes of time, were by them vtterly defaced: so that Princes before that time, how renowmed so euer they were, be at this present, euen by their meanes, buryed so deepe in obliuion, that I _Memorye_ cannot without a new inquirye of many most noble Princes, repeate a few wordes: speake you therfore _Inquisition_, and declare your mynde, how we mighte renew the decayed _Memory_ of those men.” “See heere,” quoth _Inquisition_, “with great and diligent _Memorye_, I haue founde out diuers, who with their continuall complayinges, haue euen for conscience sake made me their procleare, to exhibite vnto you in their behalfe a supplycation, in which they complayne of the great iniurie they suffer, because they bee excluded out of the English _Mirrour of Magistrates_: their only desire is that you would once agayne, by celebrating their decayed names, with a fresh memoryall geue them libertie to declare their estates themselues. Of which, as fyrst though not chiefest _Guidericus_ the thyrde king of the subdued _Brittaynes_: and the fyrst that refused to pay trybute to _Rome_, desyreth to bee harde.” “Wee will,” sayth _Memory_, “assist hym in what wee may, and not onely geue them leaue, but also intreate them to declare their estates. But where is that _Guidericus_, the exployts of whose lyfe were so passing singular, that had hee not beene moued with two much boldnesse, euen hee had brought vnder his rule the whole worlde: wee wyll heare hym wyllingly, for his death is a great ensample of God’s vengeaunce, vnto all them which thinke by their owne courage and abilitie, to compasse their desyres.” “Beholde,” quoth _Inquisition_, “hee is euen heere, his body rent and torne dooth declare, that great was his mishappe.” “Speake then, Syr Knight,” quoth _Memory_, “and let vs heare what you wil saye.” Wherewith the sorrowfull Prince sayde as followeth.]

[1167]THE COMPLAINT OF GUIDERICUS.

How Guidericus refused to paye tribute vnto Claudius Cæsar: howe he subdued Galba: how hee became desyrous to winne all the worlde: spoyled France, Germany, and a great part of Italy: and lastly, how hee was miserably slayne in a tempest of thunder, euen at what time hee shoulde have dealt with Cæsar. This History is a synguler ensample of God’s vengeance against pride and arrogancy.

1.

On staylesse top of honour’s high renowne, With busye brayne to builde a bower there, Is donne to fall at fortune’s froward frowne, Whose turning wheele, the hyest fyrst dooth feare, And them below it vpwardes styl dooth reare. Let them therefore for good estate that striue, With sailes halfe hoyst in happy hauen arive.

2.

I prest to tell my suddayne yll successe, Amidst the meane which dyd not dayne to dwell, To higher state whilst I dyd mee addresse, By chaunging chance of fortune’s force, I fel Euen suddaynly from heauen to hatefull hell: From heauen (I saye,) I fell from that my blysse, To hatefull hell, I meane, to wretchednesse.

3.

_Guidericus_ which rul’de the _Brittayne_ lande, I am the same, of _Simbaline_ the sonne, _Cassiuelane_ my grandsyer dyd withstand Sir _Cæsar’s_ force, tyll _Parcæ_ had vndone The fatal knot and twist that they had sponne. Euen then to soone the _Romanes_ did oppresse This realme, which I to ryght did me addresse.

4.

Which that I myght the better bring about, The three estates in court to _parle_, I In hast did call, amongst which royal route, As one who ment for welthe of commonty, Howe to restore their ancient libertie, Pronounst the speache which here I shal recite, Which moued much there manly mindes to fight.

5.

The emperour of _Rome_ hath sent, you see, Ambassatours, the tribute to obtayne, Which _Theomant_ subdued, did agree To pay, but I such greement do disdayne. Shal I to _Rome_ a tribute slaue remayne, Because they did subdue this realme of yore? Shal we buy yoke with tribute euermore?

6.

Shall we this badge of beastly blemishe beare? Shall _Troians_ we to _Troians_ tribute yeelde? Of _Brutus’_ bloude, a prince withouten peare, We do descend, whose father fyrst dyd buylde In _Italy_: he _Alba Longa_ fyl’de, And furnishte fine with princely byldinges braue, He was entombde next good _Aeneas’_ graue.

7.

Then _Romulus_ of _Siluius_ did succeede, And _Rome_ of hym (as _London_ tooke of _Lud_) Her name which _Alba Longa_ was in deede, Built at the first by good king _Brutus_ blood: Dare they for guerdon of so great a good Demaund of vs whose parentes patrons were To them? to doo this deed, they doo not feare.

8.

Let them demaunde vngrateful beastes they be, Euen tribute of vs _Troians_ let them craue, But wee in _Mars_ his feeldes wyl pay their fee, If needes they must of vs a payment haue, They shal ryght stoutly then themselues behaue, We wil not feare to fyght it out in feelde, Without reuenge we neuer al wyl yeelde.

9.

Dyd _Cæsar’s_ princely prowesse so preuayle, That _Britaynes_ were by _Romanes_ brought to bay? Was _Cæsar’s_ valure of so great auayle, That it coulde cause _Cassiuelayne’s_ decay? Why should not then _Guidericus_ assay, By furious force of _Mars_ his bloody feelde, To make those roming _Romanes_ al to yeelde?

10.

By prowesse worne (who dooth not knowe) by skyl, That he who once as victor wore the wreath, By chaunged chaunce is forst agaynst his wyl, That garlande gay and vitall lyfe to leaue? Such ill mishappes misfortune still dooth heaue, That he who dyd subdue but yesterday, Is now subdude, and hath the lyke decaye.

11.

Which may appeare by kyng _Cassiuelayne_, Whom _Cæsar_ thryce in fyght dyd fynd too strong, Yet at the last, (the lewder chaunce was thine, Thou litle Ile) he thurst in with a throng Of mightie men, and dyd thee double wrong: Thee then subdude, to _Rome_ he seruile made, Which wrong to right, with this my bloudye blade,

12.

If you my subiectes wyll thereto consent, I wil not cease, tyll I reuenge haue seene, And them destroyed with dreadful diery dent Of wrathful warre, and therefore now I meane To byd the bace, and fetch them from their denne. To sende them woorde, we owe no tribute we, But we of them must recompenced be.

13.

I to the gods, which rule the rolling skyes, Haue bowde a bowe, for countreye’s lybertie, To die in feelde, or els that these mine eyes Shall see you free from forrayne tyranny, To which no doubt theyr goodnesse wil agree. Nowe that you haue the whole of myne intent, You knowe the cause why I for you haue sent.

14.

Al you therefore which compt this quarrell good, By heaued handes let me them vnderstand: My brother _Aruiragus_ by me stoode: “I must not I,” (he sayde) “holde vp my hande, Nor thee herein assist with any bande: For sith we both haue sworne aleagance due, To _Rome_, to _Rome_ I euer wil be true.

15.

“No feare of force, no hasarde, no mishappe, Doth dant my mynde, I dare what dare be donne, Though nowe we sit in lady fortune’s lappe. By fayth defilde, no honour can be wonne: The wrath of God men periurde cannot shun: Do thou therefore what best thyselfe doth seeme, Giue them their ryght, for that is best I deeme.”

16.

Sith all but you (my brother) do consent, My counsayle and my commons do agree, Yea all the force of this my realme is bent, To liue and dye for countrie’s libertie: Take you therefore this sentence in _boun gre_, Because thou seemst a seruile lyfe to loue, The towre a house is best for thy behoue.

17.

An othe constraynd is made to none auaile, To breake such othe doth not the fayth defile, Let them goe tel to _Claudius_ this tale, We meane with force to furnishe this our ile, Which force himselfe shal fede within a while, For if he wyll not fetch his tribute here, We then wyl goe and pay hym tribute there.

18.

Which when the Roman _Claudius_ had heard, Though he at home had ciuile strife in hande, And though he were by forrain foes debar’de, And could not come him selfe, yet he a bande Of thirtie thousand sent, for to withstand My strength: which strength in the fyrst foughten feelde They found so strong, that forst they al did yeelde.

19.

From _Galba_ then myselfe his shield did get, In golden feelde which had the horse of fame, Euen _Pegasus_ in seemely siluer set, The curious skill of heraultes there did frame, Th’asheument true, of auncient _Troy_ by name, Imbordred braue with golden letters thus, _Senatus, Populusque Romanus_.

20.

Wherewith as one prict foorth with good successe, A great attempt I quickly did deuise, I ment, O _Rome_, vpon thy walles to presse, It easye seem’de to me in my surmise, To compasse all that I did enterprise: Me thought I could winne al the worlde in haste, But fyrst I ment the _Romane_ state to waste.

21.

I did prepare in euery poynt my powre, I sayl’d the seas, I spoyled them of _France_, I made the _Germans_ and the _Lumbartes_ lowre, Yea, good successe did so my state aduance. In _Italy_ such was my luckye chaunce, I did subdue, my souldiers had the spoyle, Of all the chiefest cities in that soyle.

22.

See here howe roming rumor ranne about, See how report did tel a truthlesse tale: For _Hannibal_, the _Carthage_ duke so stout, Renide, it sayd, would once agayn assayle The _Roman_ state, and cause it nowe to quake: Which false report did put them in such feare, Cities would yeelde before my campe came neare.

23.

His former feates the fuming fancies fed, That doubtful now affrighted sore with feare, They tel howe at _Trisemenus_ they sped, In _Cannas_ feeldes how they despoyled were, They hate to tel, they lothe that hap to heare, A bushel there he fyld (most true it is) With golden ringes _equestriordinis_.

24.

And whilst their mindes on these mishaps do muse, They wishe that nowe good _Graccus_ were not dead, For _Fabius_, he who wysely would refuse Forthwith to fight, they wish for such a head, _Camillus_ nowe would stand them in great stead: And some with sighes did wishe for _Scipio_, Them to defend from me there deadly foe.

25.

But as the lion _passente_ once with feare, _Gardante_, a mouing mollhil did beholde, From whence he thought some wonder would appeare, A little moule crepte from the mouing mould, Which made the quaking lione then so bolde, Feare set aside, that he for his delyght, Playd with the moule, and kilde the strengthlesse wight.

26.

So nowe the campe of _Claudius_ did drawe neare, Where he hymself was lord cheefe general, Which greatly did delyght my hart to heare, And caused me my captaynes then to call, To whome I sayde, we two must striue for al The world so wide: which if I chance to winne, Then you yourselues haue ample part therein.

27.

Euen whilst I marcht my men in good aray, A corsser post came praunsing in the fielde, Who comming to my cabbin, thus dyd say, “_Guidericus_, thy friendes at home be kilde, Thy natiue soyle to forrayne force did yielde, The _Romans_ they haue spoylde thee of eche thing, Thy brother there _Aruiragus_ is kyng.”

28.

Which newes although they dyd amaze me much, Yet I whose hart did neuer faynt for feare, “Although,” sayd I, “their good successe be such, Yet if we can subdue the _Romans_ here, They shal I think buy _Britayne_ very deare, Which out of doubt yf you as you haue donne, Will fight like men, the fielde wil soone be wonne.”

29.

But they who hilde their wiues and children deare, Could not digest the losse of that their lande, For which they fledde, left me their chieftayne there, When _Claudius_ host to fight was euen at hande, Whose mightie force I could not then withstande, Yea all my page, my footmen fled for feare, And left me post alone, with heauy cheare.

30.

That cruell Queene of hel, _Proserpina_, From foorth whose loynes this fury feare first fled, _Megera’s_ sighes, no, no, nor _Medusa_, Who hath ten thousand snakes about her head, The fiery flames of hell doth not so dreade The minde, as feare, which makes man’s hart we see, To shake, and quake, like leafe of aspen tree.

31.

My martial knyghtes who once so valiant were, That they the worlde, euen al the world would spoyle, This fury fyerce, this feeble fayntyng feare, Did causlesse cause them thus here to recoyle, Her only force inforst me to this foyle, Not _Cæsar’s_ force: no strength of _Roman_ power, But feare, euen feare, dyd make me here to lower.

32.

Which feare (for trueth) dyd neuer me dismaye, But too to soone my hartlesse men it made, To shrinke, to flinche, to flee eche man his way, And me a pray most fit for _Claudius_ blade, They left alone: alas, what may be sayde, What may be done, what fittes for mine auayle? I wyl not flee, to fight cannot preuayle.

33.

What, must I then go crouche vnto my foe? Fy on that fate, that I should sue for grace To hym who is the worker of my woe, Whose hart from foorth his brest for to displace, I gladly woulde ten thousand deathes imbrace, My lyfe (in faith) doth lothe to liue with shame, By death therfore my lyfe shall purchase fame.

34.

For as I once did winne with courage stout, In _Galba’s_ shielde, the praunsing _Pegasus_, So with renowne I nowe will go about, To see if _Claudius_ dare the cause discusse With me alone, if couragious Dare do that deed: that we in open feeld, May try the case, then he or I must yeelde.

35.

And therewithal in armour bright I clad, Myne arming swoorde, my targate I did take, And on my helme, or burgonet, I had My royal crowne, and so I dyd forsake, The place, whereas my souldiers fled of late, I marcht and met the scoute of _Claudius_, To whom I dyd addresse my language thus.

36.

“The _Britayne_ kyng is come alone you see, Conduct him then your Emprour to salute, You for your paynes shal gayne a golden fee; For why my grace to _Claudius_ hath a sute.” The scurers they al silent, mumme, and mute, Yet wel appayde of such a princely pray, In hast they dyd to _Cæsar_ me conuay.

37.

With ten times twentie thousand men, I met, Him marching there, to meete with me but one; To whom I sayde: “Thy powre is passing great, My force is fled: what, must I then bemone My selfe to thee, not so but I alone, Am come to knowe with magnanimitie, If thou dost dare to wrecke thy wrath on me.

38.

“The crowne for which so many men be slayne, Thy _Galba’s_ shield, with many iewels more, Which vnto me do only appertayne; For in the fielde I wonne them al of yore, And vnto thee I wyl them not restore: If thou, as I, canst winne them with renowne, Then al is thine, both realme and royal crowne.

39.

“Why doost thou muse as though thou wert dismayde? Doeth doubtful dreade nowe daunt thy _Roman_ mynde? Faynt not for feare, thou needst not be afrayde, A _Britayne_ borne thy selfe ryght well shalt fynde, I am a man, and not a god by kinde.” Wherewith to grounde a golden gauntlet, I Dyd cast, and he at last dyd thus reply:

40.

“Thou mighty _Ioue_, which hast seemely seat Aboue the sphere of _Mars_ and _Mercury_, Thy fleshlesse eyes (my tongue can not repeate, What syghtes they see) nothing is hid from thee: Thy eyes, the hart, and secrete thoughts doo see, Thou knowest, O _Ioue_, how iust my quarrel is, Which here to proue, thou knowst I compt a blisse.

41.

“No god thou man: thou art no god in deede, I faynt for feare: and doost thow thus me dare, Thy gauntlet lo to take I doo not dreade, Such courage though I fynde but very rare, In pryncely brest, what though I wil prepare Myselfe to feelde, where thou I hope shalt fynde, Myselfe alone wyl cause thee curse thy kynd.

42.

“To deale with thee I _Cæsar_ might disdayne, My tryple mace dooth rule the worlde you see, Thou subiect art the meanest of the traine, Whom conquest hath compeld to wayte on me: A meaner knyght were meete to match with thee, Yet, I myselfe, with al my hart doo dayne, To reue thy life, and cause thee to complayne.”

43.

Then I whose hart was al beglarde with glee, To _Cæsar_ sayd: “If fate hath framde my foyle, If now the last of all my lyfe I see, It shal delight that _Cæsar_ dyd me spoyle, And that his blade did cause my bloudy broyle.” And whilst I ment a longer speache to make, A storme most straunge constraynd the earth to quake.

44.

Straunge sundry fightes, then sodaynly wer seene, The lightsome day was turnde to lothsome night; Then darknesse did affright me much with feare, The seemly sunne did lose her louing lyght: And that which would amaze eche worldly wight, The thundring heauens constraynde the earth to quake, The trees did daunce, the mighty mountes dyd shake.

45.

Haue here myne end, from threatning thunder clap, A burning bolt did pearce my hart with payne, Wherewith I cryed: “O _Cæsar_, my mishap Is comme, for whilst I thought thee to haue slayne, _Ioue’s_ vengeaunce iust hath torne my corps in twayne.” This was my end, although some writers say, That _Claudius_ blade did cause my last decay.

46.

To slip at first, such fall hath little foyle, Greate ruth it is to lose a race forerunne, And at the end by slipping suttle soyle, Wagelesse too lose a race too wel begonne, The turrets top let wise men wisely shunne, Who falles from top, he mercilesse is slayne; Who falles below, can quickly ryse agayne.

47.

I tel this tale who knowledge bought too deare, I could not be content with meane estate; Let them therefore which shal this story heare, So loue the meane, extremitie so hate, That they may liue in blesse without debate. Who is content amidst the meane to dwel, With perfite blysse he only dooth excell.

48.

With royal rule you kinges which runne your race, Take heede, beware, flee fancies fonde delight, Ambition blinde wyl moue you to imbrace, A thousande euils, disdayne with al your might Her luring lookes: she me a wretched wyght, Transformde, and made with _Circe’s_ sorcerie, A brutishe beast, and worse if worse may be.

49.

When _Thanatos_ had thus destroyed my dayes, Then due desert my soule to hel conuayde: I fearde not God, his name I did not prayse, But foolishe fate and fortune stil me stayde: For which, with pinching payne, I nowe am payde. Fortune I finde is nowe of none auayle, But God is he whose power dooth preuayle.

[THE INDUCTION.

“It was great pitie,” quoth _Memorie_, vnto _Inquisition_, “that thys man liued in the tyme of blinde ignorance, when neyther vertue nor religion were knowen. Beleeue me, if he coulde haue conteyned himselfe within the limites of his owne countrey, or if too much courage had not moued him to so great interpryses, surely euen he had restored the _Britaines_ vnto auncient libertie, and might haue liued long without paying any tribute.” “You haue said,” quoth _Inquisition_, “he might haue had a very glorious day ouer the _Romans_, if he had not desired _Rome_; for when _Claudius Cæsar_ had him abroade, he did not presently incounter with _Guidericus_, as he supposed he woulde haue donne, but remembring how _Scipio Africanus_ layd siege vnto _Carthage_, did draw _Hannibal_ out of _Italy_, he imitating his grand chieftayne and predecessor, fyrst brought _Britayne_ vnto his obedience, then he inuaded _Guidericus_, with whom God being displeased, he was destroyed as you haue harde. After whom the _Britaines_ were greeuously oppressed by the _Romans_, and dayly inuaded by the _Scots_ and _Pictes_ whiche _Lodrike_ their king brought out of _Scithia_, insomuch that at this time the _Britaynes_ were compelled to sende vnto the Emperour _Bassianus_ for aide; who sent vnto them the _Roman Seuerus_, with a great power. And then how _Carassus_, a _Britayne_, not _nobilis_, but altogeather _ignotus_, did both redeeme his countrey from the _Pictes_ and _Romans_, and also obteyned the crowne and raygned eight yeares, thys story following shal declare: who although he felt the fall of his own follie yet surely his story is very profitable, chiefly for all such as doo suffer suspicion to seduce them, as the diligent noting of the processe wyll declare.”]

THE COMPLAINT OF CARASSUS.

Howe Carassus, a Husbandman’s sonne, slewe Lodrike the king of the Pictes, and howe the Emperour made him a Captayne. Then howe he obtayned the Britayne crowne, and howe suspition brought him to decay.[1168]

1.

Sith men be borne by nature naked all, With their estates why are not men content? Why doe they deeme the want of wealth a thral? Why shoulde they lothe the lot, which God hath sent? _Adam_ himselfe I finde, at fyrst was sent, As one who did disdaine his poore estate, To disobay, with God to be a mate.

2.

Thou maist be made a god, (quoth satan than,) If on the fruite forbidden thou wilt feede: The senselesse wight, the feeble forcelesse man, Did taste thereof, supposing that with speede He shoulde in hast haue beene a god indeede: He not content, hoping for hygher place, Brought bitter bale to him and al his race.

3.

And I the sonne of _Adam_ by descent, Dyd seeke to set my selfe in princely seate, With mine estate I could not be content, For which I felt the force of hatred’s heat: As at the first, my good successe was greate, So at the last, by fansie’s fond desires, I gropte for grapes amidst the bramble brires.

4.

Let such as woulde by vertue them aduaunce, Marke by what menes I did my selfe addresse, To flye at first my poore alotted chaunce By honest meanes: let them from wickednesse Which fayne would flye, learne this by my distresse, That he who doth from right and reason stray, Destruction shall destroy him with decay.

5.

For I by byrth borne next to beggers doore, Was stayde aloft with staffe of high estate: But whil’ste that I so hye a pitche did soore, I left the meanes which made me ryse of late, I vices lou’de, I did al vertues hate. For which, _Carassus_ ranne a race in vayne, And nothing got, but death and deepe disdayne.

6.

When ciuile strife had _Bryttayne_ quite vndone, So that her strength was now of none auayle, The faythlesse _Scots_[1169] with ruth did ouerrunne That royall realme: the _Pictes_ did so preuayle,[1170] That sorrow did on euery side assayle My natiue soyle: and being thus dismayde, To _Rome_ we sent for succour, helpe, and ayde.

7.

_Seuerus_ then by _Bassianus_ sent, To bring this realme vnto some quiet stay, The _Romans_ and the _Brittaynes_ both were bent, To bring the _Scottes_ and _Pictes_[1171] to their decay, Them to returne agayne to _Scithya_, And at the last by good _Seuerus_ ayde, We them destroyde when we were most afrayde.

8.

Whose force though twice the _Romans_ felt to strong, Yet at the last we got a goodly day, Euen by my meanes, who thrust into the throng Of _Scots_ and _Pictes_,[1172] I desperate ther dyd play The part of hym, whom feare did neuer fray. And at the last to end this mortall strife, I did depriue King _Lodrike_ of his life.

9.

And when the _Pictes_ did see their king depriude Of vitall life, Lord, how they fled the fielde! They made me muse, to see how fast they striude, With staylesse steppes, eche one his life to shielde, Who could not flye, he there with care was kilde: So by my meanes, my country did obtaine Her auncient state, and liberty agayne.

10.

At my returne I to _Seuerus_ sayde, See here how I with woundes am all bestead? I cannot liue, I feele how lyfe doth fade, _Lodrike_ himselfe did carue and cut my head, For which my blade his lukewarme blood hath shed: He cut my cap, and I haue got his crowne, He lost his lyfe, and I haue found renowne.

11.

_Seuerus_ then vnto his surgion sayde, “Heale hym, and bryng him safe and sound agayne, Thou for thy paynes with poundes shalt wel be payd, And he shall haue such honoure for his payne, As vnto him for euer shal remayne: For by the gods which rule the skies aboue, His noble actes deserue eternal loue.”

12.

When by the skill of surgion’s curious arte, My hurtes were heal’d, and holesome health ensude, _Seuerus_ then reioycing at the harte, Made me a lorde, with wealth he me indude, Yea, he although my learning were but rude, Sent me to _Rome_, as legate of this lande, To make report how here our state did stande.

13.

My deedes at home[1173] inrichte me with renowne, My talke abroad, with proper filed phrase, Adornde my head euen with a _laurell_ crowne: The emperour did much commend my wayes, So that I was bedeckt with double prayse: I could not reade, my lerning was but weake, Yet they of _Rome_ did muse to heare me speake.

14.

As learned arte doth geue a goodly grace To some: so some by nature’s giftes do get Eternal fame, and purchase them a place Aboue the place where learned men do sit. We finde the fine dexteritye of wit In them which be both wise and ful of skill: Yet neuer striude to clime _Pernassus_ hill.

15.

So I with prayse a time at _Rome_ did stay, And tract of time returnde me backe agayne, The emperour, he gaue my ryght away Within a while, which made me storme amayne: I had great cause me thought for to complayne, _Seuerus_, he was made the king of all: The giftes he gaue to me were very small.

16.

I was but made the captayne of the coast, From forrayne force to keepe my realme in rest, _Seuerus_, he was crowned king in post, Which did so boyle within my warrelike brest, That I with griefe most strangely was distrest. Shal hee (sayde I) thus reape the high renowne Which I deserue? Shal he inioy the crowne?

17.

I wonne the wreath, and he wil weare the same: I got the goale, and he will get the gayne. For me in faith it were a deadly shame, If I in this his regall royall raygne, Without repulse should suffer him remaine: Which if I do, then let the dreadfull darte Of _Vulcan’s_ wrath, torment in twayne my hart.

18.

For why, I see what seruile seruitude Shall then insue, if he may raigne in rest: Shall _Bryttayn_ braue by _Romanes_ be subdude? It shal no doubt, by _Romans_ be distrest, Except my might against his might be prest, My might as yet cannot his strength constraine, Yet may my might compell him to complaine.

19.

The drainyng droppes doo make the marble yeeld In time: the seas the cragged rockes do rende: And courtly kinges by tearing time be kilde, For time dooth make the mightie okes to bende, And time dooth make the litle twigges ascende: So I in time, such power may prepare, As shal constraine _Seuerus_ death, with care.

20.

But whylst I did indeuour to destroy _Seuerus’_ strength, the _Pictes_ were prickte with pride, For theyr reuenge vs _Britaynes_ to annoy: Which when I hard, in post I did prouide A power great, then I in hast did ride, And kept the coast so strong with men of warre, That no man coulde ariue, to make or marre.

21.

The poore _Pictes_ preuented of their pray,[1174] In waltering waues did bouse their bitter bayne, They digde a diche, and caught theyr owne decay, On rockes theyr barkes, in seas themselues were slaine: The westerne windes with wo did them constrayne, By _Britayne_ bankes to make so long delaye, I, and the seas, brought them to their decay.

22.

By meanes whereof my credite did increase: _Seuerus_ did esteeme me as his stay, I from my fyrst deuises coulde not cease, For aye I hopte to haue a happy day, To bring the _Roman_ rule to their decay, With fauning face good fortune smyled so, I had my wyshe what might I hope for mo?

23.

For into _Spayne_ the _Roman_ souldiours sent, I had at home the might him to depriue, Then wisely I al perilles to preuent, Prouided so that no man could ariue, No _Pict_, nor _Scot_, nor _Roman_, then could striue With me at home, then I the lordes with speede, Of _Brittayne_ calde, and thus I did proceede.

24.

“The _Roman_ rule vs subiect slaues hath made, You se, my lordes, a _Roman_ heere doth raigne, Whome to destroy my power shal inuade, I do indeede this seruile life disdayne: And you your selues do much therof complayne. If you with helpe wyl me assiste I sweare, The _Roman_ rule shal haue no power here.”

25.

Then they most glad with one consent replide: “We wyl assist thee with what myght we may, And we our selues most wylling wyl prouide, No _Britayne_ borne against thee shal display His shielde, but al at the appoynted day, As prest to please thy heste, shal thee assist: Winne thou the crowne, and weare it at thy list.”

26.

Which when I hard them say with one consent, Blame not though pride did then possesse my hart For princely crowne: the dreadfull dierie dent Of wrakful warre, who would not feele the smart Of griping grefe? who would not feele the dart Of dreadful death? or who regardeth payne? If he a crowne and kingdome may obtayne?

27.

For gunne-hole grotes[1175] the countrie clowne doth care, Restlesse with ruth, the rusticke gets his gayne: The marchant man for welth doth send his ware About the worlde, with perill and great payne: And all the worlde for welth doth not disdayne, Amidst the surge of mighty mounting seas, To caste themselues their owne delightes to please.

28.

If to obtayne such triffles they do toyle, And neuer ceasse to bring there driftes about: Why should I feare the force of forrayne foyle? Why should I not assay with courage stout, To wreake my wrath vppon the _Romishe_ rout Which heere remayne? whome to the bale to bringe Were me to crowne my natiue countrie’s king.

29.

One thing there is which greatly doth me grieue, _Seuerus_, he who did inhance my state, He did in my distresse with life relieue My dyinge dayes, he neuer did me hate: Yet now with hym I must be at debate. Euen hym with myght I greatly must disgrace, Eare I can set my selfe in princely place.

30.

Vntimely death shall not destroy his dayes: For if he wyl returne to _Rome_ agayne, Or if he wil resigne his crowne with prayse, Or if hee wyl amongst vs styl remayne. If he can like of these, we wyl refrayne From sheading bloude which if he dothe disdayne, I then against my wyl, must woorke his paine.

31.

So foorth I past with all my power prest, _Seuerus_ did at _Durham_ then delay, Whereas I mente his state to haue distrest: But some I thinke my secretes did bewray, For he to _Yorke_ in hast did take his way: Which when I had besiegde on euery side, With care and griefe of mind, _Seuerus_ dide.

32.

Se heere the force of cruel fretting care? Se heere how sorowe doth dismay the minde? For when he harde _Carassus_ did prepare To reue his crowne, he iudging me vnkinde, With sobbing sighes of sorrowe, he resignde Before his time his minde from manly breste: Beholde with care how sorrowe reaues man’s rest.

33.

Thus he intombde in his vntimely chest, It was decreed _Carassus_ shoulde be king, The three estates of al my realme were prest, With one consent they al to me did bring The kingly crowne, then thus they al did singe, “The due deserts of this renowmed wyght, Deserues to be the _Britayne_ king by right.”

34.

Marke by what steppes I dyd the toppe obtayne, With keeping sheepe my youthful yeares were spent: Then with the whyp I plide the plowe amayne, In _Mars_ his feeldes to fight my minde was bent, As legate then to _Rome_ my selfe was sente, I dubbed was a lorde of high renowne, And now at laste I haue obtayn’d the crowne.

35.

The ende, the acte[1176] (the plaudite) dooth proue, And all is well, whose endyng is not yll: Who sittes aloft had neuer neede to moue, For feare least he shoulde fall agaynst his wyll: Though creepyng he dyd gayne the toppe with skil, Yet at the last, by turning of his toe, A suddayne fall may worke his wretched woe.

36.

Which fall I felt, and how? I here wyll showe: When I as king dyd all the realme comaunde, I fearefull dyd suspect mine ouerthrow: The place (mee thought) did shake where I dyd stande: Then for my garde I dyd prouide a bande Of warlyke wights, to garde my noble grace, I lastly dyd my noble men displace.

37.

From foorth the feeldes I for my father sent, Hym of a clowne a noble man I made: My brethren all euen for the same intent, Lyke courtiers there in court with me they stayde, And all my stock were glad and well apayde: For they of late which rulde the paynefull plow, Of _Brittayne_ land they bee the rulers now.

38.

From cart to court, a countrye man to call, With braue attyre to decke a dunghyll Dycke, Is lyke a paynted image in a wall, Which dooth deceiue, and seemeth to bee quicke, Though woorkmanship most trimly dooth it tricke, Yet of a stone, a stone wyll still remayne: A clowne cannot from clownish deedes refrayne.

39.

As hard it is of quarryed marble stone, For man to make a liuely mouing wyght, As of a lout, or els of such a one Who dayly doth imploy his whole delyght To digge and delue, it passeth mortal myght, To make him serue the courte a kinge’s behest: Turne hym to plowe, the cart for him is best.

40.

For though thou canst by cunninge art compell Nature a tyme to leaue her wonted place, She wyl returne, in spight of heauen or hell: No alcumist dame nature can displace, Except that God doth geue abundant grace: The caske wyl haue a taste for euermore, With that wherewith it seasoned was before.

41.

Why did I then my courtlesse court mayntayne With _Hob_ and _Iohn_, _Rafe Royster_, and his mate? Whose greedy iawes aye gaping after gayne, Did polle, and pil, and bred bitter debate:[1177] Men much vnmeete to mayntayne myne estate: Why did I them so neare myne elbowe place? Because my selfe by byrth was borne but bace.

42.

Like wyl to lyke, the mule doth claw her mate, With horned beasts the Ienite cannot iest, Those bauling houndes, the haughty harte doth hate, With beares the beare in safetie countes her best: So I amongst my lyke did looke for rest, Their dedes by me were alwayes wel alowde, By them likewyse my doinges were auow’d.

43.

But as you see the husbandman with care From new sowne feeldes the rauening rookes to driue, So dyd the gentrie of my realme prepare, My countrie courte and mee for to depriue: But gentlemen were then to weake to striue With mee, and mine, for which they dyd prepare A new founde snache, which dyd my feet insnare.

44.

In surgelesse seas of quiet rest, when I Seauen yeares had sayl’d, a perrye did arise, The blastes whereof abrig’d my liberty: For whilste I dyd with busye brayne deuise Them to destroy, which did my courte despise, The boystrous blastes of hatred blewe a gale, My cables crakte, my barke was bong’d with bale.

45.

For they (I meane the gentrie of my lande) Both mee, and mine, theirs, and themselues had sold Subiects to _Rome_, from whence a mighty bande They had conuaide to make my courage cold: Into my realme they could not be controlde, But when they were ariude, they quickly brought Both me and mine, and all the rest to nought.

46.

_Alectus_ then the chiefetayne of the rest, Spoyling my friendes, he forst me to the feelde, The daye was come, we both in fight were prest: His trustelesse trayne, did seeme to me to yeelde, But al the feeldes with great ambushmentes filde, I coulde not flee, _Alectus_ had the day, With his owne sworde for breath he made me bray.

47.

As due desert did force my shippe to flote, So vices vile me drencht in waues of woes: O false suspect, why did’st thou make me dote? Fearing my fall, my friends I deem’d my foes: Fearing the worst, the best I did depose, And was deposde: let other learne heereby, The crooked crabbe will alwayes walke awry.

48.

And let them know which do not lothe to learne, That kinges in court, be combred most with care: The pilote’s charge, who sitteth at the stearne, Doth make him watche, when other do prepare Themselues to sleep: so kinges distressed are With doutful dread, and many other thinges, The sheephearde’s life is better then the kinge’s.

[THE INDUCTION

_Carassus_ hauing thus finished his tragicall history, _Inquisition_ presented vnto _Memory_ the lady _Hellina_; but _Memorye_ hauing her at the fyrst sight in great admiration, sayde as followeth: “Why haue you brought before vs the goddesse of _Diana_? Our intent is to heare the complayntes of them who are smothered with _Forgetfulnesse_: as for this goddesse she is renowmed more then sufficient.” “O _Memory_,” quoth _Inquisition_, “this is not _Diana_: no, _Diana_, no _Gouzaga_, no _Emila_, no _Cariclia_, no _Pallas_, no _Iuno_, no not knowing _Minerua_, may compare with her for the flourishing features of her incomprehensible complexion for the comly composition of her ladilike limmes, being the perfectest peece of woorke that euer nature created, that euer earth nouryshed, or that euer death destroyed, for the passing great dexteritie of her ingenious capacitie, the very _Phœnix_ of women, and the chiefest amongst men that euer thou _Memory_ didst celebrate for learning, for knowledge of tongs, and for the diuers gifts of the mind, shee only dyd inhabite betwixt the wings of flilling fame, for a happye, long, quiet lyfe in this worlde, she onely was fauoured by fortune, or rather singularly preserued by her maker. For that shee neuer tasted in all her raigne any aduersytie, shee is to bee esteemed immortall: for that in all her actions shee had her harte’s desyre, shee may iustly bee esteemed a goddesse (or rather the very beloued of God.) Now I report me vnto you is there any goddesse or nimph inhabiting the mount _Helicon_, which maye compare with queene _Hellina_, not shee of _Greece_ which brought finall destruction vnto the flourishing _Troy_, but shee of _Brittayne_, who redeemed her decaying country from forraine tyrannye, which made not onely a menes for the bodyes of her subiects to liue in quiet peace, but she also prescribed vnto them an order how they might saue their soules. She planted religion amongst her subiects which were at that time sauage, neither knowing God, nor esteeming godlynesse, she was daughter vnto king _Coell_: shee was queene of _Bryttayne_, empress of the worlde, wyfe vnto _Constantius_, mother of _Constantine_ the great. Yet the descriptions of time, I meane the chronicles, haue lefte so litle reporte of her that I founde her standyng betwixte _Forgetfulnesse_ and _Memory_, almost smothered with _Obliuion_.”[1178] “If shee bee so renowmed, as you haue spoken of,” sayde _Memory_, “we shoulde doo her great wrong to deny her a place in this pageant. Speake therefore, good madame _Hellina_, with good leaue, your minde, and as other by their falles doo set downe examples very necessary for the auoyding of vice, so let your history bee a meanes to incourage all men to imbrace vertue.” Then the good queene, although somewhat abashed, yet glad to repeat her lyfe forerunne, sayde as followeth.]

THE LYFE OF QUEENE HELLINA.

How Queene Hellina was empresse of all the worlde. This storie dooth declare how happye they bee, which liue in the feare and loue of God.[1179]

1.

Men’s due desertes ech reader may recite, For men of men doo make a goodly show, But women’s workes can neuer come to light, No mortall man their famous factes may know, No writer wyll a litle time bestowe, The worthy workes of women to repeate, Though their renowne and due deserts be great.

2.

For I by byrth to _Coel_ daughter deare, King _Lucy_ was my good grand-mother’s sonne, My father dead, I rulde his kyngdome heere, And afterwarde the world so wide I wonne. I empresse was of all vnder the sunne, I liued long, I dyde with perfect blisse, Yet writers will repeate no word of this.

3.

But now at last I haue obtayned leaue, My spotlesse life to paynt in perfect white: Though writers would al honour from me reaue, Of al renowne they would depriue me quite, Yet true report my deedes shal burnishe bright, And rubbe the rust which did me much disgrace, And set my name in her deserued place.

4.

From _Roman_ rule who _Brittayne_ did redeme? Who planted first God’s woorde in _Brittayne_ land? Who did so much virginitie esteme? Who did the force of forrayn foes withstand? Who al the world subdude without a band Of martial men? who did these noble actes? I _Hellina_, haue done these famous factes.

5.

And now haue here the storye of my state: The _Brittayne_ queene inheritage me crownde, Euen then when _Romans_ had so great debate Amongst themselues for _Caracalla’s_ wounde, An emperour, who highly was renownde, As then at _Rome_, whose death vndoutedly, Diminishte much the _Roman_ emperie.

6.

The _Romans_ then were storde with ciuile strife, And many realmes against them did rebell, Their trouble turn’d me to a quiet life, My commonweale did prosper passing well, When al the worlde agreed like deuils in hel, Then I and myne becalmde from hatred’s blast In happy hauen harboured were at last.

7.

Then I a mayd of tender youthful yeares, Reporte did say, of beutie fresh and fayre, Refusde the sute of many noble peeres, Which dayly did vnto my court repayre: What though there were vnto my crowne no heire? Yet I who did regard my comons good, Refusde to linke my selfe with forrayne blood.

8.

On forrayne costes, on kingdomes to incroche, With wrath of wrackfull warres I did despise, And fearing aye the ruth of rude reproche, With carking care I dayly did deuise, How I with peace myght make my kingdome rise, And how by lawe of God and man, I might Giue _Cæsar_ his, and vnto God his right.

9.

No God of heauen, no Christ my people knewe: Wherefore to _Rome_ for learned men I sent, King _Lucie’s_ lawes decayde I did renewe, Then preaching made my people so repent Their former faultes, that all incontinent Were baptized, and they[1180] within a space, The fayth of Christ so[1181] firmly did imbrace.

10.

That nothing seemed currant in their sight, But that which holye writers would alowe, And that they would imbrace with all their might: To shed their bloud, the same for to avowe They did not feare, at _Verolane_ euen nowe, Amidst the force of fiery flashing flame: _Albion_ the protomartyr proude the same.

11.

As careful marchaunt men do much reioyce, When from those iles _Molocchi_, they haue brought There frayghted ships, for then they haue great choyce Of marchandize, which trafficke long hath sought, To finde the ware, which trial true hath taught Wyl’get moste gayne, which beeing got, they giue And cast there care, how they thereby may liue:

12.

So I, whom both Sir _Neptune’s_ surging seas, And _Eole’s_ windes, euen God himselfe aboue Did fauoure much, my labouring minde to please, Geuing those thinges were best for my behoue, God’s woorde I mene, which al my men did loue: The pearles which Christ commaunded to be bought, Muste here be found, and no where els be sought.

13.

Then they and I made haste, post hast, to leade Our sinful liues as Scripture did alowe: We knowing God, him loude with feare and dread, Deuotion made vs crouche, and creepe, and bowe Our hartes, our heades; we sauage were but nowe, Yet by and by such was the good successe, In fiery flames the truth we did professe.

14.

Then flittinge fame the truth to testifie, Against my wyl, at _Rome_ made such reporte, That _Constantinus_ thence dyd hether hye, And being come vnto my _Brittayne_ court, With louer’s lookes hee striude to scale the fort Of my good wyll: but when it woulde not bee, He sighing, thus addrest his talke to me:

15.

“O Queene (quoth he,) thy deedes deserue great fame. The goodly giftes that God hath geuen to thee Be such, as I cannot thee greatly blame, Though thou without desert disdaynest me, Who for thy sake doth lothe al crueltie: But for thy loue, with _Mars_ his cruel knife, I could commaund thy realme, and reaue thy life.

16.

“But (out alas) whilst breath doth lend me life, My heart shal hate to thrall thy happy state, What though thou dost refuse to be my wyfe, Thy hatred tho, shal neuer cause me hate: But whylste I liue, I wyl thee loue, let fate And fortune fell, poure on me al their spight, To die for thee shal greatly me delight.”

17.

Then I replide: “O Duke, without desert Thou doste me loue, a little ilande’s Queene, I know thou to the emperour heyre art, Thy valiaunt actes I diuers wayes haue seene, I like thy deedes, most noble which haue bene, And thee I loue: yet priuate pleasures luste May neuer make me throwe my realme to duste.”

18.

“If thou (quothe he) wylte dayne my Queene to be, Thy _Bryttaynes_ shal to _Rome_ no tribute yeilde, You if you please, to _Rome_ may go with me, Your myghtie mate the world so wide may wielde, Or if you please, I here wyth you wyl bylde My byding place, and in this littell lande, I wyl remayne yours, at your commaund.”[1182]

19.

His comely corps,[1183] his friendly promise plight, His famous actes, his noble royall race, Some other thinges which here I could recite, The _Roman’s_ hart within my brest dyd place: And when my wit had wayed well the case, Then for the chiefe of all my realme I sent, And thus I spake to know the whole intent.

20.

“My louing lordes, and you my subiects, see This _Roman_ heyre, whom I indeede do loue, He will restore your ancient lybertie, If I wyll bende my hest to his behoue: Which benefites they chiefely do mee moue, To loue at last, a man by whom you may, Receaue a shielde to keepe you from decay.

21.

“Perhaps you thinke I loue, because I see His comely corps,[1184] and seemely sanguine face, You be deceaude, no outward brauery, No personage, no gallant courtly grace: What though hee bee by birth of royall race? I recke it not, but this I do regarde, My commonweale by him may bee preserude.

22.

“For if hee wyll from tribute set you free, And ende the worke which I haue well begonne, That Christe’s gospell preached styll may bee, God may by hym send vnto me a sonne, To you a king: what wealth then haue you wonne? What great renowne? what honor wyll insue? Speake you your mindes, these thinges me think, be true.”

23.

“O Queene,” quoth they, “the Lord preserue thy grace: Do thou the thinge that semes to thee the best, We do alowe the matche in euery case: If by that meanes we may haue quiet rest, With what great good shal this our realme be blest? Do thou therefore, O noble Queene, we pray, The thing which best may keepe vs from decay.”

24.

The _Roman_ duke he nothing would denye, But graunted more then I could aske or craue, So that there was proclaymed by and by, A famous feast, a banquet passing braue: There to the duke the _Britayne_ crowne I gaue, With sacred spousall ryghtes, as man and wyfe We wedded, liude in loue, for terme of lyfe.

25.

And whylste we ment to rule this little ile,[1185] A greater good vnlooked for befel, Death did destroy his syre with hateful hand: For which we both at _Rome_ must nowe go dwel, And so we did: thinges prospered passyng wel, My feere was made the emperour, lorde and king Of al: and I the queene of euery thing.

26.

His myghtie mace did rule the monarchie, My wyt did rule (some wryters say) his mace, And to increase with ioy our mery glye, I brought him forth a babe of royal race, The boy he had an amiable face: O _Rome_ thou maiste reioyce, for this was he, Which did at _Rome_ erect diuinitie.

27.

Whilste thus in blesse I did at _Rome_ remayne, On[1186] _Britaine_ still my mind her care did cast, For which I causde my husband to ordayne, That euermore those ancient lawes should last, Which heretofore amongst them there I past, And that to _Rome_ no _Brittayne_ borne, for aye, Should taxe, or toll, or tenth, or tribute pay.

28.

Though there at _Rome_ an empresse life I led, And had at hand what I could wishe or craue, Yet stil me thought I was not wel bestead, Because I was so farre from _Brittayne_ braue: Which when my louing lorde did once perceiue, He set a stay in al the emperye, To _Brittayne_ then he did returne with me.

29.

We raygnde of yeares thrice seuen with good successe, Then dolor and debilitie did driue My louing lord with faynting feeblenesse, For vitall life with braying breath to striue: He felt, howe death of life would him depriue, He calde his lordes, his childe, and me his wife, And thus he spake, euen as he left his life:

30.

“The haughtye pines of loftye _Libanus_, From earth, to earth, in tract of time returne: So I whose spreading prayse were marueilous, Must now returne my fleshe to filthy slime, On fortune’s wheele I may no longer clime: Therefore my lordes, although my glasse be runne, Yet take remorse on _Constantine_ my sonne.

31.

“My monarche, court, my kingdomes all, (O stately _Rome_) farewell to them, and thee, Farewell my lordes, which see my finall fall, Farewell my childe, my wyfe, more deare to mee Then all the world, we must depart I see: And must we needes depart? O Fortune fye, We must depart, adue, farewell, I dye.”

32.

Wherewith he sighte and senselesse dyd remayne, Then I his death as women doo, dyd wayle: But when I view’d, that weeping was but vayne, I was content to beare that bitter bale, As one who founde no meanes for her auayle: His corps at _Yorke_ in princely tombe I layde, When funerall sacred solemne rights were payde.

33.

And when report his death about had blowne, _Maxentius_ then the triple crowne to weare, Did challenge all the empire as his owne, And for a time that mighty mace dyd beare: Which when my sonne, my _Constantine_ dyd heare, The youthfull lad, indeuour’d by and by, To claime his right by _Mars’_ his crueltie.

34.

I then his tender youthfull yeares to guyde, Went with my sonne to see his good successe, He being campt by fruitfull _Tyber’s_ side, To spoyle his foe he dyd hymselfe addresse, He knew that God dyd geue all happinesse: Therefore to God, euen then the youth dyd pray, With mightie hande to keepe hym from decay.

35.

Beholde how God doth godly men defend, And marke how he doth beate vsurpers downe: _Maxentius_ nowe he al his force dothe bende For to defend his diademe and crowne: But frowarde fate vpon the prince did frowne: For why his men were scattered euery where, In _Tyber_ he did drowne himselfe for feare.

36.

To _Rome_ then we and all our host did hie, The _Romans_ they with ioy did vs receiue, To _Constantine_ they gaue the emperie, But he of them most earnestly did craue, That I the rule of al the worlde myght haue: “It is,” quoth he, “my mother’s ryght to rayne, Til dreadful death hath shred her twyst in twayne.”

37.

“I graunt my sonne, the monarchie is myne, For at his death thy father gaue it me For terme of life: but let it nowe be thine, I aged must go pay the earth her fee, I am content to liue with lesse degree: O louing sonne, geue eare vnto my hest, I wyl not rule, that charge for thee is best.”

38.

And when he myght not rule his mother’s minde, Agaynst his wyll he wylling did assent, That al should be as I had then assignde, To rule the worlde, he greued was content: And whilste that there my happie dayes I spent, Reioycing much to see my sonne’s successe, I dyde and had a heauenly happinesse.

39.

Thrice happye I who ranne this royal race, And in the ende my wished goale did get: For by my meanes al people did imbrace The fayth of Christ, the orders I did set They were obay’d with ioy, which made me iet: Euen in this blesse a better blesse befel, I dyde, and nowe my soule in heauen doth dwel.

40.

So now you see the happye hap I had: Learne then thereby to do as I haue done, To prayse God’s name let euery prince be glad: To persecute the truth let al men shunne, By vertuous wayes great honor maye be wonne: But he who doth to vices vile incline, May be comparde vnto a filthie swine.

41.

Who doth not loue the playne nor pleasant way, He cannot feare to sleepe amidst the greene, But in the mire he doth delyght to lay: So princes such as vile and vicious beene, Do tumble aye amidst a sinke of sinne, Whose names on earth, whose soules in hel, remayne In infamye, the other pincht with payne.

42.

Let them that seeke for euerlasting fame, Tread in the steps that I before haue trod, And he who would avoyd reprochful shame, And flee the smart of _Plutoe’s_ ruthful rod, Let him not cease to learne the law of God, Which onely law man’s stumbling steppes doth guyde Who walkes therein, his feete can neuer slide.

[THE INDUCTION.

“Beholde,” quoth _Memorye_, “the effect of vertue and godlynesse. If contentation of the mind be perfecte happinesse, as some philosophers haue defynde it, then no doubt this queene was most happy, and happy is hee who can imitate her in her happynesse. But not long time after her there lyued a king, named _Vortiger_, who for his vice was as diuerslye afflicted, as this woman for her vertue was blessed. I doo remember the wickednesse of this man was exceeding great. Haue you found hym out, _Inquisition_?” “Is not this he, good _Memory_?” quoth _Inquisition_, “I founde hym both sitting and sighing amongst the misserable, and it would appeare that hee is ashamed to make rehearsall of thinges past.” “It is euen he,” quoth _Memorie_, “you may know him by his fyry lookes; for though it be long since hee liued yet he beareth about with hym the badge of his destruction. Note you his story with dilygence, (good _Inquisition_,) for this is hee who subuerted the commonweale of _Brittayne_. And you, sir prince, I doo coniure you, by the duty you owe vnto me, who doo know all thinges, that you doo heere repeate vnto vs the whole story of your estate.” Wherewith he with smoking sighes, greatly against his wyl, saide as followeth.]

THE COMPLAYNT OF VORTIGER.

How Vortiger destroyed the young kyng Constantine, and howe he obteyned the crowne: [howe the abusyng of his prosperitie brought hys realme so lowe, that he was constrayned to hyre souldyers to defend hymselfe from his enimyes] and how after many miseries, he was miserably burnt in his castle, by the brethren of Constantine.[1187]

1.

By quiet peace of _Ianus_ ioylitie, Their happy hauens with forewinds forst some haue,[1188] By wrackful warres of _Mars_ his crueltie, With much ado some get the goale they craue, But subtyl sleightes, and fetches boulstred braue, My haplesse hand dyd hyt with leueled lyne, The aymed marke, the more mishap was myne.

2.

By giftes of grace some men haue happy hap, By blessed byrth to kyngdomes borne some be: Succession sets some men in Fortune’s lap, By wisedome, wyt, and prudent policie: Some clyme aloft by trustlesse treacherie: And courage dooth a multitude aduaunce, Driftes finely filde they dyd my state inhaunce.

3.

I _Vortiger_, by byrth was borne a lorde, Kyng _Constantine_ his coosin did me call, I cride amayne, and clapt his crowne aborde, And for a tyme til fortune forst my fall, With restlesse blesse I sate in stately stall: But men of warre of much more might then I, For my desert my carefull corpes did fry.

4.

As furious force of fiery flashing fame, With cinders brought my body to decay, So smulderyng smokes of euerlasting shame Reude[1189] my renowne, and wipte my fame away: What may I more of my misfortune say? I sigh to see, I silent ceasse to tell What me destroied, and drownd my soule in hel.

5.

Here to repeate the partes that I haue playd, Were to vnrippe a trusse of trumpery, For me to shew how I aloft was stayde, Were to erect a schoole of trechery: Silence is best, let no man learne by me Nor by my meanes, how they by wicked waies, From low estate, aloft themselues may rayse.

6.

As good men can by wicked workes beware, So wicked men by wicked workes be wise, If ill men reade my deedes which wicked were, They by my meanes will compassse their surmise: For wicked workers dayly do deuise, To make examples vile and vicious, To stand in stead, to serue their lawlesse lust.

7.

The serpent thence his venym vile dooth drawe, From whence the bee her honny sweete dooth get, Leawd liuers learne to breake the written lawe, By that, whereby good men doo learne much wit: For wicked men eche fetche is thought most fyt, To serue their turne: therefore I compt it best, To leaue my faultes and follyes vnconfest.

8.

“Giue leaue therefore, good _Memory_, I may Not here repeate my tedious tragedy, _Inquiry_, let me nowe departe away. My common weale subuerted was by me, I leawdly liude, and dyde in misery, And for my faultes I felt disdayneful smarte, Let this suffice, and let me nowe departe.”

9.

With that he seemde as on[1190] that would away, But _Memory_: “Stay, stay thy steppes,” quoth she, “Let wicked men procure their owne decay, We recke it not, if warned once they be: Let that suffice, and let thy misery Make iust report, how vayne and vile a thing It is, to liue as a vsurping king.”

10.

Sith needes I must repented faultes forerunne Repeat, and tel the fal and foyle I felt, Patience perforce, to speake shame bids me shunne, To thinke thereof dooth make my harte to melte: But sith I needes must shewe howe here I delt, I am contente to tell the truth of al, Let wise men learne to stande, which reade my fal.

11.

For first I causde the young king _Constantine_, Of faythlesse _Scots_ and _Pictes_ to make his garde, They by my meanes did kil their kyng in fine, For which, with speede I sent them al to warde, And hangde them al their cause was neuer harde: So I who fyrst did cause them kil their king, To stop their mouthes, them al to death did bring.

12.

Where rancor rules, where hatred’s heate is hot, The hurtelesse men with trouble be turmoylde: Where malice may send foorth her cannon shot, There might is right, there reason’s rules are foylde: For ruthful rancor euermore hath boylde With griping griefe: her smuldring smokes of spite Woulde gladly choke al iustice, lawe, and right.

13.

So might, not right, did thrust me to the throne, I syxteene yeeres did weare the royal crowne, In al which time with griefe I aye did grone, As on[1191] who felt the fal from high renowne: My noble men deuisde to thrust me downe In al this time, and many did protest, I layde the king in his vntimely chest.

14.

At last, my foes my friendes were made, and I Had quiet peace, and liude a happy king: Yea, God who rules the haughtie heauen a hygh, Inricht my realme with foysen of eche thing, Aboundant store did make my people syng: As they of yore were prest with penury, So nowe they hate their great fertilitie.

15.

My people had of corne and oyle such store, That country men of tyllage left the toyle, The riche man fed no better then the poore, For all did reape the fatnesse of the soyle, No man for meate nor mony then did toyle, But al reioyce with ioyful iubily, And al were soust with sinful gluttony.

16.

As cloudes dissolude fayre _Phœbus_ dooth deface, So plague my plenty dim’d with darke disease: For whilste my realme in ryot ran her race, They playde, not prayed, and did their God displease: For which they drownde in sorrowe’s surging seas, Lyke rotten sheepe by thousands dide so thicke, The deade coulde not be buried by the quicke.

17.

When thus the plague my people did oppresse, That fewe were left alyue within my lande, The _Scots_ and _Pictes_, with speede they them addrest,[1192] Knowing their time, they raysde a mightie band, They knewe right soone, howe heere my state did stand: And to reuenge the wrong that earst I wrought, They ment to bring both me and myne to nought.

18.

See howe abuse breedes blake and bitter bale, Misuse dooth make of plenty, lothsome lacke, Amidst his blesse with wo it makes man wale, Onely abuse dooth woorke man’s wretched wracke: Amidst my ioyes, from ioye it beate me backe: For I and myne misusde our present blesse, Which brought both me and mine to wretchednesse.

19.

We first misusde our present pleasaunt plentie, For which we whipt in thrall with scourges three, Had pestilence, which made my kingdome emptie, It did destroy my men of eche degree, Then faynting famine playde her tragedy, _Bellona_ then that beastly bloody queene, Did blowe her trumpe to dashe my courage cleene.

20.

When sickenesse had consumde my subiectes quite, The _Pictes_ with pride did hast to spoyle my lande, I had no men, nor meanes with them to fight, For which I sent and did obtayne a bande Of _Saxons_, such as did the _Scots_[1193] withstande: Whose helpe that I when neede requirde might haue, I gaue them _Kent_, a countrey passing braue.

21.

These _Saxons_ were a crewe of warrelike wightes, They liude by spoyle, and had no byding place, They were of truth a troupe of martial knyghtes, Which serude for pay where _Mars_ extolde his mace: _Saxons_ indeede they were of royal race, They _Angli_ hight, a stocke of woorthy fame, Of them this realme of _Englande_ tooke her name.

22.

These _Angli_ brought the _Britaynes_ to the bay, We _Welchemen_ cal’d, to _Wales_ they did vs driue, They brought syxe sortes of _Saxons_ to decay, And got the goale for which they long did striue: Of other stockes they left not one alyue, They al this realme did plant with _Angli_ then, And termde themselues of _Angli_, _Englishmen_.

23.

But howe they brought this enterprise about, Marke well the sequel which I shal recite: _Hengestus_ he the chieftayne of the route, A suttle sir, an vndermining wight, To feede my vaynes he tooke a great delight: His craftie heade did deeme it the best way, With pleasant baytes to make my crowne his pray.

24.

He me his king inuited to a feast, A feast in fayth, which forst my final fall: Where _Cupide’s_ curse constraynde me like a beast, From _Pallas_ prince to geue the golden ball: For _Venus_ vantes to _Helline_ threwe my thrall, Whose heauenly hewe, whose beautie freshe and fayre, Was burnishte bright like _Phœbus_ in the ayre.

25.

I being set at _Bacchus_ banquetting, His daughter deckt with nature’s tapistrie, And trimly trickte with euery other thing, Which might delight a louer’s fantasie: Why shoulde man’s mynde to loue thus subiect be? I had a wyfe, a passing princely peece, Which farre did passe that gallant gyrle of _Greece_.[1194]

26.

Yet from my wyfe (the woorthiest wench[1195] aliue,) My fancies fell, I lothde her louely bed: Howe I _Hengestus_ daughter might atchieue Was al my care, I did this damsel wed, My wife diuorste, I had her in the steede: Her louely lookes, her pretie pleasant cheare, Made me esteeme her onely loue most deare.

27.

I wore the crowne, her wyl dyd rule the rest, And her demaunde I neuer did deny, What she alow’d I did esteeme that best: Which when her father _Hengest_ did espye, He had the pray for which he long did prye: He made his hay whilst weather fayer was, And by her meanes he brought it thus to passe:

28.

That _Bryttaynes_ we with toyle shoulde till the ground, The _Saxons_ woulde defende our wealth with warre: Which graunted once, they did inhabite rownde About my realme, and might both make and marre: New _Saxons_ in my realme aryued were, By meanes whereof my _Brittaynes_ did suspect The _Saxons’_ slayghts, and did their deedes detect.

29.

Then they good men to me their king complain’d, These men, quoth they, from vs our realme wil winne, Except they from our frontiers be refrain’d: Which when they told, my wife she was within, “O husband deare, they be,” saide she, “my kin, Cease of thy force thy faithful dreads to feare, They meane no hurt, by _Ioue_ the iust, I sweare.”

30.

So I esteemed not my subiectes health, That I might still my ladie’s loue enioye, They vewde me carelesse of my common wealth, To saue themselues they ment me to annoy, Myne eldest sonne a proper prety boy, They made their kyng, and me for my desert, They did depriue: with paine which pincht my heart.

31.

Then _Vortiger_ my sonne and kyng pursude The _Saxons_ sore, and dyd amaze them much, For which my wyfe, his mother[1196] lawe, indude With diuelish spite, agaynst the youth did grutche, She him destroyde, her good successe was such: When he seuen yeares had raygnde with great renowne, With poyson she depriude him of his crowne.

32.

I to obtaine the seate from whence I fel, With sacred oath I solemnly did sweare, To end the woorke, which was begonne so wel, And to subdue the _Saxons_ euery where: The _Brittaines_ to my kingly crowne did reare Me quickely then: I at the fyrst, by might Defaste my foes in euery fray and fyght.

33.

Then lothsome lucke did turne her whurling wheele, With treason trust intrapte did me betray, Hateful mishappe she had me by the heele, And clapte me close in dungeon of decay, To _Hengest_ nowe I must a raunsome pay: And if I loude my life and libertie, I needes must graunt al he dooth aske of me.

34.

For chaunged chaunce of _Mars_ his warres, hath made Me of a king a captayne’s prisoner, To whom there must nowe foure sheares be payde, _Northfolke_, _Southfolke_, _Southsexe_ and _Kent_ they were, Me to release from out my caue of care: Which being donne, I led my life in doute, And fledde for feare to _Wales_ with al my route.

35.

Where, as I founde a place that pleasde me much, The situation seemde so passing strong, The worlde me thought might not annoy it much, A castel there I builte: it were to long Here to repeate, silence shall do no wrong To _Marlayne_, he who wonders there hath wrought, If auncient write to vs the truth hath taught.

36.

When I had buylt my princely bower there, In bloody feeldes I meant no more to striue: But true reporte did dashe my present cheere: In _Totnesse_ hauen two brethren did ariue, Which quickly would from that my forte me driue: The brethren both of _Constantine_ the kyng, _Peccaui_ they did meane to make me sing.

37.

From worse to worse, seldome is better seene, Our present ioyes hereafter thralles do threate, And he who now doth flourish freshe and greene, Must fade and fal as _Hyems_ frosts doo frette: Dame _Florae’s_ feeldes, or as the rayne with wet In dropping dayes the pleasaunt playnes doth drowne, So ruthfull men reaues vs from[1197] renowne.

38.

Men may therfore like _Marmaydes_ euer mourne, The shining sunne who do so much delight, That aye they waile like furies quite forlorne: When _Sol_ doth shine, when _Titan’s_ beames be bright, They feare the stormes that may hereafter light, They weepe because they must the sunne forgoe, When stormes do fal, they wayle their present woe.

39.

So mortal man with malice al bested, When good successe dooth sounde a blessed blaste, With brinishe teares then may they eate their bread: For happy dayes from man dooth flee as fast, As poulders force from peece dooth pellet cast: And troubles tedious time with pacelesse staye, Once wonne (alas) will neuer walke away.

40.

How I in maze of trouble here did toyle, Iudge you which see me trauise in the same, And howe I was inforst to final foyle, Not nowe, for nowe although it dooth me shame, I wyll declare, how I was fryde with flame. For _Ambrose_ he and _Vter Pendragon_, My castle brent, me and my men eche one.

41.

Then _Ambrose_ with his brother’s crowne was crown’d, Which I from hym had reafte agaynst al right: So nowe you see vppon what slipperie grounde They stand, which doo extol themselues by might, Their wandring feete doo walke as in the night, Their stumbling steppes their giltie mindes doo feare, They dayly see the blocke of bale appeare.

42.

With scalding sighes they doo themselues consume, For feare to fal dooth yeelde none other fruite, They rage with wrath, they dayly frette and fume, Ruthful reuenge them alwayes hath in suite, And right in time makes might both mum and mute: For that which might by secret meanes hath wrought, By tracte of tyme to open shewe is brought.

43.

Vsurpers then doo reape their right rewarde, The foyle once felt, they feele how vile and vayne It is, to be too high degrees preferde By lawlesse meanes: they finde what pinching payne, Amid’st the mindes of such men doo remayne, They alwayes throngde with cruel thretting thrall, Doo feede vppon none other foode but gall.

44.

A proofe whereof a plat, a patterne playne, The ruthful race I _Vortiger_ haue runne, Disciphers so, that man may see howe vayne A thing it is his former fate to shunne: Honour obteynde (alas) what haue we wonne? A hidious heape of cruel carking care, Which to consume man’s life dooth neuer spare.

[THE INDUCTION.

“What _Constantine_ was this,” quoth _Inquisition_, “that was made away by this miserable _Vortiger_?” “Not _Helline’s_ sonne,” sayd _Memorie_, “but an impe descended out of her loines, who for his soft spirit was made a monke at _S. Swithens_ in _Winchester_; and afterward, his eldest brother being dead, he was taken out and made king. He made mention of two brethren,” sayd _Inquisition_, “who ariuing at _Totnesse_ did binde the said _Vortiger_ for making away the younge king, what were they, knowe you?” “Yea,” quoth _Memory_, “they were the brethren of the vnfortunate _Constantine_, who fled out of the realme for feare of that cruel _Vortiger_: and afterwarde obteyning succour beyonde the sea came with a nauie and obteyned the reuenge of their so deadly enemie. And when the eldest, called _Aurelius Ambrose_, had raygned nienteene yeares, he dyed, as some wryte, by poyson, without issue. Then the youngest, named _Vter Pendragon_, tooke vnto him the rule of this realm.” “_Vter Pendragon_,” quoth _Inquisition_, “doo you meane the great king _Arthur’s_ father? he is here, and hath sued vnto me to be a meanes that his fall might be knowne vnto the worlde.” “Let him,” saythe _Memory_, “speake his minde, for his story is exceedyng necessary for this present time.” Wherewith he bearing still about with hym his amorous lookes, said as foloweth.]

THE COMPLAINT OF VTER PENDRAGON.

Howe Vter Pendragon was inamoured with Duke Garelus wife, and howe by lawelesse loue he lost his kingdome. This example is most necessary for the present time.[1198]

1.

We leade our liues by fancies fonde delight, For kingdomes some doo busy much theyr brayne, But _Cupid’s_ curse that wretched litle wight, That blinded boye vnto my pynching payne, Dubde me a knight of dayntie _Venus’_ trayne, Where beames of beautie brought me by and by, To cast my care to please my ladye’s eye.

2.

O beautie braue, thy gladsome glittering gleames, With smilyng cheare and wildie winking eyes, Doth drowne with dole amidst the surging streames Of deepe despayre, the wightes which be most wyse: Aye me, my wit, my penne cannot deuise Of beautie braue to make a true discourse, To thinke thereof I feele my selfe the woorse.

3.

I _Pendragon_ of _Britaine_ crowned king, The fretting force of beautie’s hateful hewe, Those frying flames I felt, that hateful sting, Which quickly me from crowne and kingdome threwe,[1199] Whil’st with delight I did thy vaunting vewe, I like the halke which sores in good estate, Did spye a stale, I stoopte, and tooke a mate.

4.

For at what tyme the _Saxons_ dyd assayle My _Britane_ state, and tooke eche man a share, My kindome they, euen for their best auayle, Dyd then deuide: for which wyth carking care Them thence to dryue, I did my powre prepare: And beyng come to _Cornewal_ with my bande, I ment to haue duke _Garelus_ helping hande.

5.

[I knewe right wel the valure of his minde, Me to my crowne his courage did aduaunce, Him for my good most forwarde I did fynde, He neuer fearde the force of chaunging chaunce: Here I intrapte did stande as in a traunce, Amazde I gazde, as one bewichte, my hart Was wounded deep with _Cupid’s_ cruel dart.]

6.

In sacred church[1200] I set to sacrifyce, Those holy vowes, which victories require: Euen whilst I did with al my harte deuise, Howe to subdue my foes with swoorde and speare, Euen then there did this peerlesse pearle appeare, Duke _Garelus_ wife, whose gallant gate and grace, Stealing myne heart, my honour did deface.

7.

When _Vortiger_ my brother did oppresse, In exile then my youthful yeares were spent, At my retourne his fault he did confesse, And from his crowne the crowne in haste I sent: Then my delight was in the diery dent Of wrackful warre, but nowe transformde I stande, The auncient oke must growe nowe lyke a wande.

8.

I marueilde muche how _Cireus_[1201] songes might please, But now I muse that _Circes_ sorcery, Doth not from euery man bereaue his ease: _Calipsoe’s_ cuppes with poysoned trechery, Cannot so much abridge man’s liberty, As _Circus_[1202] songes, and _Circe’s_ suttle art, Whose chaunting charmes inwrapt with wo my hart.

9.

_Vlisses_ sayling by the perilous place, Where these to please the passours by, did play, Where lady _Loue_ doth vante with garishe grace, Her daynty damsels, gallant gyrles, and gaye Intycing trulles, they causde the Greeke to say: “With cables come and tye me to this mast, Lest I my selfe to pleasures court me cast.”

10.

Muse not therefore though feature fine of face, Though comely corps, and trim intysing cheere, Made me obay sir _Cupid’s_ mightie mace: The force whereof _Vlisses_ wise did feare: He sail’d aloffe, he from these bankes did beare His shaking shippe, but other many moe Did there ariue, and weau’d the web of woe.

11.

There _Salomon_ did reape the croppe of care, There _Dauid_ loude as I, _Vrias’_ wife, There _Samson_ strong was snarled in the snare, There _Paris_ liude, euen there he lost his life, There _Helen’s_ hate, brought _Troy_ her final strife, _Alcides_ he the myghtie _Herculus_, There to ariue, did finde it dangerous.

12.

And I did learne with losse of lyfe at laste,[1203] That he who doth delyght in lawelesse loue, Must play the foole eare al the partes be past, And taste the sauce preparde for his behoue: Let men take heed how they their fancies moue, Let man beware where he doth cast his eie, The lymed byrde doth proue in vayne to flye.

13.

O ancient _Rome_, thou did’st ordayne of yore, That women should no banqueting frequent, At _Rome_ she was esteemde a harlot whoore, If from her house without her veyle she went, Which lawes no doubt were made to good intent, For why the beames of beautie’s sanguynde sight, Like _Basilisco_ spoyles the gazing wyght.[1204]

14.

Therefore the maydes, and _Roman_ matrons all, A shadowing veyle before their face did weare, Their heauenly hewe did throwe no man to thrall, They were content with playne and decent geare, They hufte it not wyth paynted frisled heare: The marryed wyfe, the matron, and the mayd, They of there veyles were glad and wel apayde.

15.

If women thus had walked in my time, I had not stoopte vnto that paynted lure, Which did intice me to committe the crime, Which to the pearch of leudnesse tide me sure, For her disport my ladye could procure The wretched winges of this my muting minde, Restlesse to seeke her emptie fiste to finde.

16.

I thus ariude in pleasure’s cursed courte, I lothed _Mars_, I hated _Mercury_, It was me thought a passing pleasant sporte, Leauinge the feeldes at _Bacchus_ brauery, Sometime to sit vpon my mistresse knee, Where that I might be at my pleasure plaste, I sent the noble duke to warres in hast.[1205]

17.

You which haue playd with pleasure’s banding bales, You knowe the life which lingring louers lead, You know how sweete it is to scale the walles Of her good wyl, who liude in feare and dreade, You know right wel how wel those wightes haue sped, Who haue at last by driftes of long delay, Their hoped meede, and wished pleasant praye.

18.

[Which pray when I by tract of time obtaynde, And had my wyl when best it did me please, As I three monthes amidst my blesse remaynde, The duke’s returne, return’d me from my ease, No promise myght his raging wrath appease: But when he knewe the drifte of my delayes, To cause my death he sought an hundred wayes.

19.

Then I the wrath of rash reuenge to flye, Thinking that time myght mitigate his moode: To _Troynouant_ in haste I did me hye: Which when the wrathful duke once vnderstoode,[1206] He raysde my realme, and by his myght and powre I lost my lyfe, my crowne, and princely bowre.][1207]

20.

Learne they which line in high or lowe degree, To flee the foyle which I by folly felt: Let them refrayne those lofty dames to see, They know howe lofty lookes with me haue delt, You se how sight did make my honor melte: Let al men know man’s heart did neuer rue The thing which he with sight did neuer vewe.

21.

But how may men the sight of beautie shunne, In _England_, at this present dismal daye? All voyde of veyles (like layes) where ladyes runne And rome about at euerye feast and playe, They wanderyng walke in euery streete and way: With loftie luering lookes they bounsing braue, The highest place in al men’s sight must haue.

22.

With pride they pranke to please the wandring eye, With garishe grace they smyle, they iet, they iest: O _English_ dames, your lightnesse veryly, The curtizantes of _Rome_ do much deteste, In closets close to liue they count it best: They geue not grace to euery wandring wight, Your smiling chere doth euery man delight.

23.

The poet’s goddes _Saturne_, and _Iupiter_, To beautie’s becke their highnesse did obay, _Pluto_ of hel did plead at beautie’s barre, And _Phillis_ causde _Demophoon_ to stay: _Pasiphäe_ a bull brought to the baye: So goddes and diuilles, both men and beastes, they all By women’s wyles are slaues to beautie’s thrall.

24.

What gayne is got by lyght and wanton wayes? You reape reproche, a guerdon got thereby: Men by your meanes do cause their owne decay, And you your selues al souste in sinne muste die: Refrayne therefore to please man’s gazing eie, Let men likewise the bayted hookes refrayne Of luering lookes, their vaunting vowes be vayne.

[THE INDUCTION.

“Verye well sayde,” quoth _Memory_, “I would I had habilitie to redeeme this prince’s soule out of _Lymbo-lake_: I wyl insuer you the shorte tragedie of this man’s life hath made a long discourse of the present estate of _England_, in which ther be more by three parts which serue, like carpite knightes, _Venus_ and her darlinges, then God and their prince: who I feare are so fast seazed vpon beautie’s fiste, that this example wyl be little auailable vnto them. But let it be as it wil, warned folkes may liue, and happie are they whome other men’s harme do make to be ware. But, good _Inquisition_, whome haue you there? What haue you brought vs in steede of a prince, a priest? It woulde appeare by his shauen crown that he hath bin a monke, or a frier. What, shal we alowe tippet wearers to pleade amongst princes? Me thinke by the deformitie of his apparel, he shoulde not be of the _religion_, nor of the reformed church: yea, I wyl insuer you, his precise lookes maketh me to suspect that he is one of them which do cry out, 'O these indifferent thinges do not edifye.’ Speake therfore, _Inquisition_, if he be one of that precise order he get no place here.” “O _Memorie_,” quoth _Inquisition_, “they of the reformed church be the most zelous pastoures of the world, moste of them both godly good liuers, and wise: and in my fancye, in many poyntes, greatly deseruing the name of reformed. But this man was both a prince and a prelate, whome I refused oftentimes to heare, because he looked so deuoutly, yet he being importunate, did ouercome me with his prayers: and when I gaue eare vnto him I reioyced: and not without a cause, good _Memorye_, for it is euen he whom you sent me to seeke.” “Let me see,” quoth _Memorie_, “is it _Cadwallader_? In good time, it is euen he in deede. O se what the alteration of apparel doth! In good fayth, I had almost forgotten the man. He was the last king of the _Brittaynes_, and when thinges would not fal out after his desire, he went to _Rome_, and there he became a _frier_. But we wyl not accuse him of anye thing, let him do the thing that he commeth for; you may perswade your selfe that seing he is of the church, his conscience wyl constrayne him in euery thing to tel the truth.” Then he stepped forthe, booted and spurde, al in blacke, with a long prieste’s gowne, a square cappe, a _scala cœli_ in his hande, and a longe payre of beades by his side: then he sighing, proceeded vnto his purpose, and said, as followeth.

THE COMPLAYNT OF CADWALLADER.

How Cadwallader the last king of the Brittaynes, after he had behaued himselfe very valiantly against the Saxons, resigned his crowne, and went to Rome, where he liued in a religious house. This storye contayneth in it the estate of al estates.[1208]

You mourning muses al, where euer you remayne, Assist my sobbing soule this drierye tale to tell: You furious furies fearce of lymbo lake belowe, Helpe to vnlade my brest of al the bale it beares: And you who felte the falle from honor’s high renowne: From graues you grizie[1209] ghosts send forth, to helpe me mourn. O _Pallas_, geue thou place, that mourning _Clio_ may, On lute lamenting, sound and sing my doleful dumpes: Let riming metered lines and pleasant musike cease: Let satyres solome sound sende forth the fall I felt: And when the truth of al my tragedie is knowne, Let them that liue then learne, al things must haue an end, The _Persian_ monarch and _Medes_[1210] it downe did fal, That of _Assiria_, in tracte of time did end: Yea _Alexander’s_ force in fight subdude them both, And brought the worlde so wide into one monarchie: What though the fretting force of fate did him dismay? He felt at laste the foyle, his vaunting was in vayne, He dead, the worlde it was deuided as before: The _Roman_ emperie came tumbling downe at last: And where is _Troy_, and _Greece_, and mightie _Macedon_? They flourishte for a tyme like this my little ile: The _Soldion_ brought them downe, and did theyr states destroy: Euen so the _Saxons_ brought the _Britayns_ to the bay, Euen these mine eyes did see, that hateful hidious sight, These feeble handes, when long they labourde had in vaine, Dyd yeeld their interest: then thus I did complayne: Who can refrayne the force of mightye mounting seas? When bellowes make a breache and beate the banckes adown, Doth not the saltish surge then beate the bankes adown? Then man may not withstand the rigor of their rage: But wisedome would haue kept the waues within their boundes: Counsayle doth come to late, when hope of helpe is past: Such was my filthye fate, my lewde and lothsome lucke, I sought a salue to cure and helpe the helpelesse wound: For long before my tyme, seuen kings were setled here. The _Saxons_ such as dwelt by east, _Sibertus_ rulde, The _Angles_ in the east, _Redwallus_ rulde as king, Then _Ethelbert_ was king of all the coast of _Kent_, In _Southsex Ethelwolfus_ wore the regall crowne: Then _Quincillinus_ was a _Saxon_ king by west, Of _Martia_ in the midst king _Penda_ was the prince, And _Edwin_ in _Northumberland_ did rule and raygne, How dyd my grandsire, grand renowmed _Arthur_, he These seuen destroye, with deadly field of wrackfull warre? But _Mordred_ made the meane, that brought them in agayne: _Vortiporus_ wyth warre almost consumde them all: Then _Malgo_ he with peace restorde agayne their state, _Cariticus_ the synne of ciuil stryfe did loue, For which _Gurmundus_ did the _Britaynes_ much annoy: Then _Cadwin_ out of _Wales_ kyng _Etheldred_ did spoyle, _Cadwalline_ then did force king _Penda_ to a foyle. And I _Cadwallader_ at last did presse in place, Then _Lothar_ king of _Kent_ in warre that wretch I slue: And _Ethiwolne_ the king of _Southsaxons_ I spoylde, The other fiue did me inuade with cruel fight, With whom in diuers warres, I diuersly did speed: Somtime _Bellona_ blewe a blessed blaste for me, And changed chaunce somtime did force[1211] my men to flee: While thus I wagde my warres in secrete silent night, The very voyce of God, it thus to me did speake: Thou striu’st agenst the streame, the tide doth beate thee [backe,] Strike thou thy sailes, take ancor hold, els must thou feele a [wracke.] Which saying did indeede amaze me more by muche, Then al the force that man against my wil might bende: For who the wyll of God with weapons may resist? And when as sinne hath solde a countrye to decay, Then prayer must preuayle, for weapons will not helpe: And when the end is come, when all the glasse is runne, Who can resist the force of fate and destinies? Who things forerunne to fal from falling can refraine? It passeth mortall might to bring such thinges about: Let man content himselfe to do what best he may, By trying too to much, no man his God may tempte, But mortall man must thinke that God the best doth knowe, Who can depresse to dust and rayse when best him please: And as I thus amidst my musinges did remayne, I did resigne my crowne, and deemde al honoures vayne: And though it greeude me muche to feele the fall I felte, Yet was I well content, I could not as I would: For which I left my lande, my people, and my place. The _Saxons_ they obtaynde the wage for which they warrde: When I three yeares had raygn’d, without one day of rest, Euen then in mourning robes at _Rome_ I did ariue, And there contemning all the worlde, and worldly thinges, I made my selfe a monke, (ceasse _Memory_ to muse) A monke I made my selfe, thou knowst it passing playne: Amongste the friers there, I led my lyngring life: And tyl my dying day I daily did deuise, How by my meanes it might to all the worlde be knowne, That mortall flesh is frayle, and euery thing must fade: And euen amongst those thinges which nature doth create, Nothing so vile as man amongst the rest is founde, Which made _Heraclitus_ with ceasslesse sighes to wayle, He to hys dying day did nothing els but weepe, Affirming all the worlde vnder the heauen, to be A path of penitence, [a] maze of misery: What is the life of man but care and daily toyle, Bearyng alwayes about a burthen of mishappes? All his delightes repentaunce dayly dothe[1212] pursue: Nothing but death doth bryng hym peace and quiet rest: Yet that which bringes hym blesse, he most of all doth hate, Which made _Democritus_ with myrth to spende his dayes; He laughing aye, did mocke the madnesse of mankynde, Whose loue is long to liue, and feareth much to dye: Death reaues vs from desease, death endes the feare of death: When _Midas_ did demaunde _Silenus_ what was best For mortall man to wishe, the satyre thus did say: “Not to bee borne, if borne, not long our liues to leade, For life I most do lothe, and death I least doo dread.” And how did _Timon_ leade with sauage beastes his lyfe? How did that _Hermite_ poore, his lothsome life detest? Affirming with the wise _Aurelius_ emperour, That if a man shoulde make a true discourse of all The wretched woes he felt, from birth to dying day, The feeble fleshe would faynt to feele so sharpe a fight, The hart would quake to heare dame fortune’s sharpe assaults: And I _Cadwallader_, a king, can make report, That nothing may content the mind of mortall man: The more my selfe did eate, the hungryer ay I was, The more I dranke, the more thirst did me stil distresse, The more I slept, the more I sluggishe did remayne, The more I rested me, the more I wearyed was, The more of wealth I had, the more I dyd desire, The more I still did seeke, the lesse I aye did finde: And to conclude, I founde I neuer coulde obtayne The thing, but in the ende it caused me to complayne: My present good successe, did threaten thrall to come, And changing chaunce did still with sorowe me consume. For which my royall robes, my crowne I layd aside, Meaning to proue by proofe the paynes of pouertye, Which pouertie I felt all ryches to exceede. It beareth much more blesse then hygh and courtly state, _Codrus_ and _Irus_ poore for wealth did farre surpasse: _Midas_ and _Crœsus_ king, for wealth who did surpasse: And I amongst my mates the _Romishe_ fryers, felt More ioye and lesse anoye, then erst in _Britaine_ braue: For there I doubted still, the _Saxon’s_ subtile sleyghtes, I feared there the fall from royall regall seat: But here at _Rome_ I liude not fearing force of foe, I had for myne estate what I coulde wish or craue. And this I there did finde: they of the cleargye be, Of all the men that liue the leste in misery. For all men liue in care, they carelesse do remayne: Like buzzing drones they eate the hony of the bee, They only doo excel for fine felicitie: The king must wage his warres, he hath no quiet day, The noble man must rule with care the common-weale, The countreyman must toyle to tyll the barren soyle, With care the marchant man the surging seas must sayle, With trickling droppes of sweat the handcraftes man doth thriue: With hand as hard as bourde the woorkeman eates his bread, The souldiour in the fielde with paine doth get his pay, The seruing man must serue and crouch with cap and knee, The lawier he must pleade and trudge from bentch to barre, Who phisicke doth professe, he is not voyde of care: But churchmen they be blest, they turne a leafe or two, They sometime sing a psalme, and for the people pray, For which they honour haue, and sit in highest place: What can they wishe or seeke, that is not hard at hande? They labour not at al, they knowe no kinde of payne, No daunger dooth with dreade their happy liues distresse, Ceasse you therefore to muse what madnesse made me leaue The courte and courtly pompe of wearing royal crowne, No madnesse did that deede, but wisedome wisht it so, I gayn’d thereby the blesse which few before me felt: I niene yeares led my life, and neuer felt annoy: And certaynely if nowe I might be king agayne, Refusing all that pompe, I woulde become a priest, A deacon, or a deane, prebende, or minister: For these men leade their liues with liuings two or three. Some haue their substitutes in vniuersities, Some leade the brauest liues that any man may haue, They feede vppon the fleece, they force not of the flocke: Three houres in the yere, with beastly bosomde stuffe They spend, and that is all that lawe of them requires: Muse not though many thrust and shoulder for degrees, For happy man is he, who hath a preacher’s fees: But let me nowe returne vnto my _Romishe_ rout, Who fed like bacon fat, did nought but play and pray. With whom for niene yeares space, when I my life had led, I songe my _requiem_, and payde the earth her fee. Then in Saint _Peter’s_ church at _Rome_ they did me lay, Booted and spur’d, euen as you see me here this day: So now you haue the whole of al my tragedye: Of _Brutus_ bloode the last I liude that rulde as king: My _Britaines_ driuen to _Wales_ they _Welchmen_ then were calde, And I at _Rome_ their king, a mumbling monke instal’d: The _Saxons_ had the day, for which they longed long: They _England_ calde the ile of _Brute_, which tooke her name. Some men be borne to blisse, and some to hatefull happe: Who would haue thought, that I in warre a raging kyng, Should by the force of fate, at _Rome_ haue dide a monke? Let al the worlde then know, that nothing is so sure, That can affoorde and say, I thus wyl aye indure: For that which seemeth best, is soonest brought to naught, Which playnely doth appeare by that which I haue taught: The worthiest in the worlde, princes, philosophers, Will teach that I haue taught, and proue it passing playne: _Paulus Aemilius_ did dye but wretchedly: And was not _Scipio_ euen to his dying day Constraynde, to helpe his neede, the painfull plowe to plye? _Cæsar_ and _Silla_ both, did not they tast the whyppe? And made not _Hannibal_ a miserable end? And how was _Socrates_ before his tyme destroyed, And _Anaxagoras_ inprisoned long with paine? For cruel beastly coyne diuine _Plato_ was soulde, And _Aristotle_ sent to exile, where he dyde: And so was _Solon_ sage, and that _Licurgus_ wise, And many more, which here I could at large repeat: But let these fewe suffice to teach for certaine truth, That al the men that liue, are subiectes al to ruth: And seeing so it is, then let them learne the meane, That if the barke do breake, they safe may swimme to land.

[THE INDUCTION.

“The greate desire,” quoth _Inquisition_, “whiche we haue had to heare this man hath made vs to ouerpasse king _Arthur_ and _Cariticus_; the one no lesse famous for his noble actes then the other for his vices and wretchednes infamous.” “Yea,” said _Memory_, “so haue we forgot two or three other, whose examples would haue been goodly lanternes to lighten wandryng pylgrimes. But it is not much amisse, for of _Arthur_ there be whole volumes, and of the rest ther be the like ensamples both in _Bochas_ and _Baldwin_. Let vs therefore passe them ouer, and speake somwhat of some of the _Saxons_: for seeing they were made of fleshe and blood, no doubte some of them stumbled also. But fyrst tell me, _Inquisition_, wyll you penne this man’s meterlesse tragedy, as he hath pronounst it?” “Good _Memory_, geue me your aduise, for it agreeth very wel with the _Roman_ verse, called _Iambus_, which consisteth on sixe feete, euery foote on two syllables, one short and an other long; so proper for the _Englishe_ toung that it is greate maruaile that these ripe witted gentlemen of _England_ haue not left of their gotish kinde of ryming, (for the rude _Gothes_ brought that kind of writing fyrst, and imitated the learned _Latines_ and _Greekes_.) O what braue beames and goodly tymber might be found amongst _Churchyarde’s Chippes_, if he had not affected the ryming order of his predecessors, which meeter made not onely hym inferiour vnto _Horace_, but it also made a great inequalitie to be betwixt _Buchurst_ and _Homer_, betwixt _Phaer_ and _Virgill_, betwixte _Turberuile_ and _Tibullus_, betwixt _Golding_ and _Ouid_, betwixt _George Gascon_ and _Seneca_; for al these comming neare vnto _Marot_, whom they did imitate, did put a great distance betwixt them and the _Latines_, wyth whom they might haue binne equall, euen wyth as litle labour, and with much more prayse and renowne.” “Truely,” quoth _Memory_, “let be as it is, you shall see good sport shortly. I smyle to see how _Zoilus_ and _Momus_ will crie out: 'O vayne glorious heade, whiche now for a singularitie dooth indeuour to erect a newe kinde of poetrie in _England_.’ What needest thou care, _Inquisition_, these laboures wil get thee no liuing, and these be but the trifles of thy idle houres, yet such as be in many respectes of great value. I promise you I woulde the rest of your princes would proceede in the lyke order. But how shal we goe forward wyth the seuen _Saxon_ kings? Which waye shall we turne vs? Where, or wyth whom shal we begynne?” “Wyth the west _Saxons_,” quoth _Inquisition_, “for they subdued the other six, and returned the realme into one monarchie. And surely _Ewe_, their first king, were worthy the speaking of, who for hys wife _Eheldreda’s_ pleasure, gaue ouer al his royalties, and then went to _Rome_, like a begger, in pilgrimage. But we wyl not spende our time in hearing these deuout men. Let vs (if you please) see what this meaneth: behold a heardman doth holde in his hand a headlesse body, who by his apparel would seeme to be some forlorne thing: shall I inquire of the man what the matter meaneth?” “No,” quoth _Memory_, “you neede not, for I see he wyl doo it without request.” Wherewyth the heardman lamenting both his harde happe and his good successe, sayde as followeth.]

THE COMPLAINT OF SIGEBERT.

How Sigebert was thrust from his throne, and miserably slayne by a heardman. This tragedie dooth teach both prince and subject his duetie at large.[1213]

1.

Two parts in one a heardman here must play, My tale must tende eche prince’s lyfe to mende, And this my talke most playnely must displaye, How farre a subiect may himselfe defende Agaynst his liege,[1214] his souerayne lorde and king, If his default his commonweale dooth bring To miserie: therefore a litle while Attende, and knowe the tenoure of my stile.

2.

A subiect I of base and lowe degree, This headlesse corps of lyfe I did depriue, (King _Sigebert_ it was) with crueltie: Whose lust was lawe, whilst he was here aliue, To feele my force it was his destinie: Then crueltie I wrackt with crueltie, And to reuenge the wrong that earst he wrought, With losse of lyfe his lawlesse lust he bought.

3.

This _Sigebert_ the _Saxons_ rulde by west, Their auncient lawes he at his lyst did chaunge, For which his commons did him much detest: The duke of _Cornwell_ woulde not let him raunge Thus at his wyll, but wisht him like a friend, To mende his faultes, or els his life to ende: Then he in rage this duke my master’s lyfe, His cruel handes bereaude with blooddy knife.

4.

A lawelesse life to lawlesse death dooth hale, When witlesse wil wyl passe the powere of may: Then il mishappe dooth drowne in dolour’s dale The peruerse prince, whose wit doth beare the sway: Iust _Abel’s_ blood to God for vengeance calde, For blood with blood the bloodsheader is thralde, And him whom here before you I present, For sheading bloode, my blade his lyfe hath hent.

5.

As he three yeares his people did oppresse, Then they whose backe that burden coulde not beare, With one consent they did his state distresse, To reaue him of his crowne they did not feare, They him desposde from honour and renowne: His hateful happe so frowardly did frowne, That he who had a kingdome but of late, Forlorne he nowe must begge from gate to gate.

6.

Doo nothing muse at his deserued happe, For many more as he their liues haue led: _Ioue’s_ vengeance iust such wretches dooth inwrappe With change most strange, when he their blood will shed: Of _Dionise_ of _Syracusia_, Of _Neroe’s_ death of _Phalaris_ decay, Who list to reade, he passing plaine shal finde, That he of heauen their sorrow hath assignde.

7.

And out of doubte God did ordayne the fal Of him, whom here I headlesse haue in hand, Who wandring in a wood amidst his thral I mette by chaunce, of whom I did demaund His name, and place: who thus replide with feare: “O friende, I am for meate nowe staruen wel neare, Giue me therefore I thee beseech and pray Some meate to keepe my carkasse from decay.”

8.

Some pilgrime poore, or wayfaring man him straight I iudgde, and gaue him what my scrippe would yeelde; And whilst we both thus on a banke dyd baite, From sighes and sobbes himselfe he coulde not wielde, Which made me aske agayne his name and place, But silent he did mourne with frowning face: Yet at the last by vrging too and fro, He thus declarde the cause of al his woe.

9.

“O miser I, more wretch then thee by much, I neuer coulde compare with thine estate, This hearde of swine against thee neuer grutch; I kept a hearde, which did their heardman hate, A hateful heard of murmuring men I meane, Which dyd depriue me of my[1215] honour cleane: And now I leade my lothsome life you see, Impalde amidste a maze of misery.

10.

“With chaunged chaunce (aye me) I chased am, And frowning fate such sorrowe hath assignde, That lothing life, most like a quiet lambe, My naked necke to blocke of bale I binde: With cruell knife (O care) come shread my twist, So shall my soule by corps decay be blist: But sith that care nor fate wil doo this deed, Doo thou the same I thee beseech, with speede.

11.

“First hatefull hope with flattering face did faune, With dreade when deepe despaier would me haue drownde,[1216] Then chaunged chaunce did checke me with the paune Of woful want, when good successe did sound A blessed blast: and nowe (to tel the truth) I haue the mate, by raging rooke of ruth:[1217] Lo thus I liue, which dayly wishe to dye, And life (alas) dooth make my misery.

12.

“If lothsome life (of this my corps) the king Dooth moue one way, the bishope bids me backe: If to that poynt the queene me backe doth bring, On th’other side, the knight dooth woorke my wracke, The other poyntes with paunes be al possest, And here the rooke of ruth dooth reaue my rest: And being brought into this strange estate, I do confesse my selfe to haue a mate.

13.

“Sith sorrowe so hath seasde vpon my bones, That nowe too late I doo lament my losse, And sith no meanes may turne my gastfull grones To ioyfull glye, sith trouble still doth tosse Me to and fro, in walteryng waues of woe: Death is my friend, and life I compt my foe: Which death though once my feeble fleshe did feare, Yet now I fayne would feele his murdring speare.

14.

“In gurging gulfe of these such surging seas, My _pouer_ soule who drown’d you wil request,[1218] I wretched wight haue sought mine owne disease, By myne owne meanes my state it was distrest: For whilst I meant to make my lust a lawe, Iustice me from my high estate did drawe: So that I fynde, and feele it nowe with payne, Al worldly pompe, al honour is but vayne.

15.

“Which honour I to fiery flames compare, For when they flash and flourishe most of all, Then suddaynely their flamings quenched are: For proofe whereof, to minde nowe let vs cal _Antigonus_, and _Ptollemeus_ great, _Cæsar_ and _Mithridate_, we may repeat, With _Darius_, and great _Antiochus_, _Cambises_ eke, and conquering _Pyrrhus_.

16.

“And I the last myght fyrst haue had my place, They al as I with flaming fierie showe, Were quenched quite: dame fortune did deface, Yea hatefull happe, euen then did ouerthrowe Vs most, when most we had our harte’s desire: When most we flourisht like the flames of fyre, Euen then the seas of sorowe did preuayle, And made vs weare a blacke wamenting[1219] sayle.

17.

“And here before my death, I wyl repeate To thee the thing which I of late did dreame, That thou and al the worlde may see, how great A care it is to rule a royal realme: My dreame shal showe, that blisse doth not consist In wealth nor want: but he alone is blest, Who is content with his assigned fate, And neuer striues to clime to higher state.

18.

“When seemely _Sol_ had rest his glittering gleames, And _Nox_ the earth with darkenesse did imp[a]le:[1220] Dame _Sinthia_ then with her bright burnishte beames, The shadowed shades of darkenesse did assayle, Then _Somnus_ causde my senses al to quayle: On careful couche then being layde to rest, With doubtful dreames I strangely was distrest.

19.

“In cottage colde where care me thought did keepe, With naked neede and want of wherewithal: Where pouertie next begger’s doore did creepe, And where expences were so passing smal, That al men deemde that man forethrong’d with thral, Which there did dwel, euen there from bondage free, I viewde a man al voyde of miserie.

20.

“And whilst I musde how he in bliue of blisse Coulde leade his life amidst that caue of care, From princely court proceeded eare I wist, A man, with whom there might no man compare: His wealth, his wit, his courage were so rare, That none before nor since were like to him: Yet he mee thought in waues of woe did swimme.

21.

“This man had al that men could wyshe or craue For happy state, yet nought he had in deede: The other, he had nought that men would haue, Yet had he al, beleeue it as thy creede: This saying of that happy man I reade, That hauing nought, yet al thinges so I haue, That hauing nought, I nothing more doo craue.

22.

“The king mee thought with al his courtly trayne, Past to the place where pouertie did dwel, With frowning face and with a troubled brayne, With woe and want, his vexed vaynes did swell, With myrth and ioy the poore man did excel: And being come vnto his house ymade Of one poore hogsheadde, thus to him he sayde.

23.

“'_Diogenes_, thou lead’st a lothsome life, Me thinke thou might’st much better spend thy time Within my court, both thou and eeke thy wife: Thou by that meanes to high estate maist clime: I haue the wealth, and thou art voyde of crime, And loe, before thy face, I here am prest To geue thee that, which thou shalt nowe request.’

24.

“'Stand backe (sir kyng) thy vaunting vowes be vaine, I nothing recke, thy promise, goodes, nor lande, And _Titan’s_ stately streames would me sustayne With heate, if thou from thys my doore wouldst stande: Thou tak’st away much more then thy commaunde Can geue agayne: thy giftes so vile I deeme, That none but fooles such follies do esteeme.

25.

“'With conquest thou hast wonne the worlde so wide, And yet thou canst not winne thy wandring wyll: Thou wouldest winne an other worlde beside: But tushe, that facte doth farre surpasse thy skyll: Thou neuer wilt of conquest haue thy fyll, Til death with daunting darte hath conquer’d thee, Then must thou leue behynd, thy monarchie.

26.

“'With greate assaultes my selfe I haue subdude, In all respectes, I haue my harte’s desyre, With a contented minde I am endude, To hygher state I neuer will aspire: More like a prince then any pore esquire, I leade my life: and sith my state is such, Aske thou of me, for I can geue thee muche.’

27.

“All dasht with dreade me thought in fuming heate, He sayd, departing thence in hast with speede: 'If I were not _Alexander_ the great, I would become _Diogenes_ indeed, Who leades his life al voyd of woeful dread: He hath the welth which I cannot obtayne, I haue the welth which wise men do disdayne.

28.

“'I liue in feare, I languishe al in dreade, Welth is my woe, the causer of my care, With feare of death I am so il bestead, That restlesse I much like the hunted hare, Or as the canuiste kite, doth feare the snare: Ten hundred cares haue brought me to the baye, Ten thousand snares for this my lyfe men laye.

29.

“'When _Philip_ he of _Macedon_ the king, One realme me lefte, I could not be content, Desier prickte me to an other thing, To winne the worlde it was my whole intent, Which donne, another worlde to winne I ment: When least I had, then most I had of blesse, Now, al the worlde, and al vnquietnesse.

30.

“'No woe to want of contentation, No welth to want of riches and renowne, For this is seene in euery nation, The highest trees be sonest blowen downe, Ten kinges do dye before one clubbishe clowne: _Diogenes_ in quiet tunne doth rest, When _Cæsar_ is with carking care distrest.’

31.

“Wherewith me thought he was departed quite, And _Morpheus_ that sluggishe god of sleepe, Did leaue my limmes, wherewith I stoode vpright, Deuising long what profite I could reape Of this my dreame, which playnly did expresse That neyther want nor wealth doth make man’s blesse: Who hath the meane with a contented minde, Most perfect blesse his God hath him assignde.

32.

“But I, who liude a crowned king of late, And nowe am forste of thee to begge my bread, I cannot be content with this estate, I lothe to liue, I would I wretch were deade, Despayer she doth feede me with decay, And pacience is fled and flowne away: Doe thou therefore, O heardeman, play thy parte, Take thou this blade, and thrust it to my harte.”

33.

“O Sir,” I sayd, “the goddes defend that I Should causelesse kil a man in myserye, Tel me thy name and place, then by and by I wyl prouide for thyne aduersitie:” Then he replide: “My name is _Sigeberte_, I am the man which wrought thy master’s smart: I rulde of late this realme euen at my liste, Take thou reuenge with that thy friendly fiste.”

34.

“And wel content: I wyl reuenge with speede, The death of him whome causelesse thou didst kill: King _Sigebert_, and art thou he indeede? Sith he thou art, dispacth and make thy wyl; For to my lorde this day I wyl present Thy head: therefore thy former faultes repent, Thou seest the blocke on which thy lyfe must ende, Call thou for grace that God may mercie send.”

35.

Wherewith he kneelyng by the blocke of bale, “Dispatch,” quoth he, “and do that friendly deede: O welcome death, and farewel fortune fraile, Dispatch good friende, dispatch my lyfe with speede.” Wherewith, on blocke he stretcht his necke outright, And sayd no more, but praying me to smite: I gaue the stroke which ended al his care, A blouddie stroke, which did my death prepare.

36.

For I who hopte to haue some great rewarde For killing of my maister’s father’s foe: Was hanged strayght, my cause was neuer hearde, Such was my chance and wel deserued woe: For when my lord had heard me tel the tale, Howe I his king and myne did there assayle, His frowning face did put me in great feare, He sighte and sobde, and sayd as you shal heare.

37.

“O caitife vile, O impe of Satan’s seede, And hast thou kylde our soueraigne lorde and kyng? His due deserte deserueth death indeede, Yet what made thee to doo so vile a thinge? What though he dyd my father causelesse kyll? What though he rulde the realme with lawlesse wyll? Shall we therefore, with cruel bloudy knyfe, Depriue our lorde and king of vitall lyfe?

38.

“O filth fye, may[1221] subiects false surmise, With murthering mindes their gouernour resiste? That may not be: for _Tully_ wonderous wyse, _Plato_, in whom true knowledge dooth consiste, They both agreed that no man ought to kyll A tyrant, though he hath hym at his wyll: Yet thou (thou wretche) this bloudy deed hast donne, The like was neuer seene vnder the sunne.

39.

“When God wyl plague the people for their sinne, Them then to scourge he doth a tyrant sende, We should therefore that subiectes be, begin With earnest minde our former faultes t’amende; Which if we do, it is to great auaile, Man’s force is fonde, fighting cannot preuayle: And he who doth resist the magistrate, Resisteth God, repenting al to late.

40.

“If subiects be by peruerse prince opprest, They then must pray that God the change maye make: Which God no doubt rebellion doth detest, No subiect may his sword nor[1222] armoure take Against his prince, whom God hath placed there: Yet hath this wretch al voyde of subiecte’s feare, Destroyde a king whome God did thrust from throne: Alas, poore king, thy death I do bemone.

41.

“But he who hath thy lyng’ring lyfe destroyde, Shal be destroyd, and finde it passing playne, That no man may a prince’s lyfe anoye: Although the prince desiers to be slayne, Yet subiectes must from sheading bloud refrayne: From which, seeing that this wretch could not abstayne, Let him be hangde as I before decreed, A iust rewarde for his so vile a deed.”

42.

Then I forthwith to end my lyfe was led, I hopte to haue preferment for my deede, I was preferde, and hangde al saue the head: Did euer man the lyke example read? Not one I thinke: therefore, good _Memorie_, In register inrolle thou this for mee, That they who liue and read the fall I felt, May finde how fate most strangely with me delte.

43.

Yet my desert doubt dyd death deserue, Though hatred dyd not make mee kyll my kyng, Yet lucre lewde dyd force my feete to swarue, That hatefull hap mee to this bale dyd bring: Let them then learne that heedlesse liue by hope, Her hatefull hestes wyll bring them to the rope: And happy he, who voyde of hope can leade A quiet lyfe, all voyd of fortune’s dread.

44.

_Perillus_, he who made the bull of brasse, Lyke him I hopte to haue some great rewarde, But he in brasen belly broyled was, And to a skarfe of hempe I was preferde: So they that meane by other’s harmes to rise, Their dying day shall ende with dolefull cries: And here I ende, approuing that most true, From wicked workes no goodnesse can insue.

[THE INDUCTION.

“This heardman,” quoth _Inquisition_, “dooth make me cal to minde _Pan’s_ preachers. I meane _Maroe’s_ shepherds, _Siluanus_, _Candidus_, and such lyke, who with their oten pipes dyd often times disclose very intricate mysteries, reasoning _pro et con_ of many high poynts belonging vnto the common weale. And I know not with what knowledge they dyd decide doubtfull matters, accordyng vnto the opinyon of the best philosophers. Surely, _Memorie_, I maruel much at the men of the olde worlde, for I read of many who hauing many passing great giftes of learning and knowledge, were content with the base estate of heardmen. In these our dayes, none bee heardmen but fooles, and euery man, though his witte be but meane, yet he cannot liue with a contented mind except he hath the degree of a lorde.” “It is moste true,” sayde _Memorye_, “for heretofore men did not raunge vntryed in such a worlde of libertye as they doo nowe; then the wisest was best content with the lowest estate: yea, reason so bridled the affections of men, that _Apollo_, whome poetes do faygne to be the verye god of wisedom, what was he but a shepehearde, and that verye poore as it woulde seeme, for he kepte _Admetus’_ hearde in _Thessalie_. And _Argus_, who for the sharpnesse of his wit was reported to haue an hundred eies, he also was content to be a cowheard. And were not _Bacchus_, _Saturne_, and mighty _Iupiter_, delighted in husbandrie? But he who is most wyse in these our dayes doth approue himselfe most folish, by thrusting himselfe vnto his owne destruction, which this heardman hath declared sufficiently in this storie of _Sigebert_. But let vs nowe proceede, and let vs, by examples, teach what fruit vertue and vice, contentation and ambition, doth yeeld. Then let them of this world choose, whether lyke the wise mariners they wil auoyd those dangerous rocks, or willingly cast themselues away. Proceede therefore, good _Inquisition_, and let vs see whom you haue here.” “Shee will declare her selfe,” quoth _Inquisition_, “what she is: but for the better vnderstanding of her talke you must think that you see fifty-one nunnes, al ladies by birth, hauing all their noses and vpper lippes flead of, al flaming in a fire, being shut into a church: then do you imagine that you see this lady, the mistris and gouerner of the rest, standing dismembred and burning amongst the rest, to say as foloweth.”]

THE LYFE OF LADYE EBBE.

How Lady Ebbe dyd flea her nose and vpper lippe away, to saue her virginitie.[1223]

1.

Do nothing muse at my deformed face, For nature it in perfect moulde dyd make: And when your wits haue wayed well the case, You wyll commende me much for vertue’s sake: With these my handes which from my face dyd take Mine ouer-lippe, and eke my seemely nose, So to auoyde the rage of all my foes.

2.

For I by byrth a prince’s daughter borne, An abbiesse by my profession, Of which estate I neuer thought it scorne, It greatly did delight me to be one, Which might erect diuine religion: At _Collingam_ I tooke this charge in hand, And fiftie more of chaste _Dianae’s_ bande.

3.

Al ladies borne by birth of high degree, Which there did vowe with me their liues to leade, And to auoyd carnall fragilitie, We al did vowe as you ryght wel may reade, With single liues to liue in feare and dreade Of God our lorde, so to refrayne the vice Of fleshly luste, which doth to sinne intice.

4.

Then did the _Danes_ the _Saxon_ state inuade, And they who did the _Brittayne_ state destroy, To sue for grace were glad and wel apayd, So strangely did the _Danes_ vs then annoye, That _Saxons_ like the men of broyling _Troy_, Amazde, they gazde, not knowing what was best, So strayghtly were the _Saxons_ then distrest.

5.

These dreadful _Danes_ they had no feare of God, But sauage, they did make their lust a lawe, Whome God did send for a reuenging rod, To make vs _Saxons_ liue in feare and awe Of him, who did from seruile bondage drawe Vs out, and made vs liue at libertie, When as we serude with cruel slauerie.

6.

Not much vnlike the murmuryng _Israelites_, Sometyme we serude our Lorde with feare and dread In trouble we imployde our whole delightes, To fast and pray: but when we quiet were, We restlesse led our liues, all voyde of care, Forgetting him who did in ech distresse, With helping hande vs blesse with good successe.

7.

See here the fruit of health and good successe, It maketh man both proude and insolent: In health we hate the God who hath vs blest, Trouble doth make vs mortall men repent Our former faultes: in sickenesse we be bent To fast and pray, and in aduersitye, To pray to God, is man’s felicitye.

8.

And for this fault abusing this our blesse, The _Danes_ with ruth our realme did ouerrunne, Their wrath inwrapte vs all in wretchednesse, There was no sinne from which those men did shunne: By them the commonweale was quite vndonne: They did destroy the state of euery towne, They churches burnt, they pluckt the abbies downe.

9.

Yet not content, vs nunnes they did annoy, O cruel deede, our beltes they did vnbynde, With rapine they dyd rauishe and destroy, Deflowring al that euer they could finde: I seeing then what sorrow was assignde To me and mine, my vowed virgines I Did call, then thus I spake with weeping eye:

10.

“Alas! alas! my louing ladies all, These harde mishappes doo presse vs too to neare: What shall we do? how may we scape the thrall Which hath destroyde the nunneries euery where? Alas, my feeble fleshe doth quake for feare: Alas, howe shall we scape their cruelties, Which thus be plast amidst extremities?

11.

“For if we do their hatefull heastes deny, Then dreadfull death shall presently insue: And if we graunt vnto their villany, Our sinfull soules in hell that deed shall rue: Beleeue me then, my ladies, this is true, Much better twer for vs to dye with fame, Then long to liue, with euerlasting shame.

12.

“And for because the face’s forme doth moue With beautie’s beames and comly countenaunce, The minde of man to lust and lawlesse loue, I haue deuizde my honour to aduaunce, With face deformde to trye my hard mischaunce: For these my handes from this my face shall rippe, Euen with this knife, my nose and ouerlippe.

13.

“They which will flye reprochfull infamye, To do the like will them beseeme the best, You shal preserue your vowde virginitie Therby, and liue perhappes with quiet rest: My daughters deare, geue eare vnto my hest.” Wherewith, with rasors sharpe, I first, then they, Eche one her nose, and lippe did flea away.

14.

Whilste thus we liu’d deformde to outwarde showe, Yet vessels garnisht gaye before God’s sight, The _Danes_ did vs inuade, who strayght did knowe Our feate, them to defeate of their delight: For which they wrackt on vs their wicked spight: With fiery flames they burnt our nunnery, And vs therein: O wretched crueltie![1224]

15.

The eare of man the like hath neuer hearde, No penne, nor tounge the like hath euer tolde, Had euer man a hart that was so harde, That with his yron brest durst be so bolde, To do the like agaynst the femine kinde? Not on in fayth that euer I coulde heare, But these all voyde of mercye, loue, and feare.

16.

Thus we content to leaue this present life, In hope to haue hereafter’s better blesse, Were brent and broyld, and so did stint the strife Which might haue made vs liue in wretchednesse: We gaynde therby a heauenly happinesse: Which happinesse they doubtlesse shall obtayne, Which do from sinne and wickednesse abstayne.

[THE INDUCTION.

“O _Diana_,” quoth _Memory_, “bryng foorthe your damosels, let vs se if any of your court haue donne the like deuoier to saue theyr virginities. But seeing that writers haue made mention of none that might compare wyth her, both for the goodnesse of the cause, and the valiaunt goyng through with the quarrel, mee thinke shee shoulde rather be esteemed a goddesse then thou, and her trayne rather the ladies of chastity then thine. Geue thou place, therfore, and let this lady haue thy seate. But (good _Inquisition_) this woman liued in the golden worlde; let vs enquire, in this our yron age, yf there be any which do come any thyng neare vnto her.” “Alas, not one,” quoth _Inquisition_, “for as shee, in her time, did dismember her wel membred body to preserue the iewel which she esteemed of so greate a price, so now a multitude may be founde who furnishe theyr vnperfite personages with all kinde of foolishe fylthy furnitures, to bestowe that on euery he who wil haue it, which she was so desyrous to keepe. But let vs nowe heare this man’s matter: it is _Alurede_, who if he had not beene geuen vnto one kinde of vice had passed _Arthur_ for warres, and _Lucy_ for godlinesse.” “What vice was that?” quoth _Memory_. “You neede not enquire,” quoth _Inquisition_, “for he is euen now repeating his history:” wherewith he sayd as foloweth.]

[THE COMPLAYNT OF ALUREDE.[1225]

Howe Alurede was brought vnto disease and vnto vntimely death, being inclined vnto the sinne of the fleshe. By hys example we may learne that one vice is sufficient to deface a hundred vertues.

1.

My wrinckled cheeks bedeawde with drops of dole, My visage pale, my wan and withered face, Do wel declare how I haue runne my race: And sith I must my doinges here inrolle, The liues of them which liue for to controlle, I am content my cruel wretched case Shall teach the way, how all men may imbrace The knowledge how they honour may obtayne, And how they may from falling there remayne.

2.

Though many clime by many meanes a hye, Yet few on toppe can sit in suer seate: For euery storme an ouerthrowe doth threate To them, who get the toppe by crueltie; Whose suddayne fall doth tell their trechery: But they who will their heades for honour beate, And flye the fall, the greefe whereof is greate, Let them renowne their former factes with fame, And shunne the path which leades man’s life to shame.

3.

Who walketh in this wildernesse of woe, And loue’s aloft on flitting fame to flee, Must pace the pathes of mother mysery: That man through gastfull greefe must goe, By thousande thickes which wrapped are with wo: By daunger’s denne where lucking she dooth lye, By hatred’s house, where spite wil thee espye, By caue of care, by wofull crye, alas, His manly minde with courage stout must passe.

4.

By plesaunt playne where pleasure doth place Her princely pallace paynted passing fine, To gazing eyes where glitteryng glasse doth shine Of beautie’s blaze, where feature fine of face, Where ladye loue doth vaunte with garishe grace, Where vayne delight doth drawe that lothsome line, Which maketh man from vertue to decline: Be wise and ware, and lothe theyr luering lookes, Least craftye _Cupide_ catch thee in his hookes.

5.

To pleasure’s court a company doth come, Euen fame to finde, the losse I do lament, For flitting fame, them rumor rud hath hent, Which doth declare their dole til day of dome: With tooth and nayle which trauaile, there be some Vertue to finde, where when some time is spent Her to obtayne, and that with good intent, They weary by the way do stay their race, And rest them in this pleasaunt bitter place.

6.

They meane as there no long delayes to make, But _Bacchus’_ comely carpites so do please, Such courtly caues, such mirth, such quiet ease They haue, that they to _Venus_ them betake, The wearye wayes of vertue they forsake: Those trustlesse traynes from dolor, and disease, Doubtlesse do come to drowne in surging seas Of secrete smarte, those which do them delight: Flee thou therfore this courte, with speedy spight.

7.

From pleasure’s place, when thou shalt turne thy face, The high may then discretion wil thee shewe To vertue’s lodge, which thou right well mayst know By such as dwell about that pleasaunt place: A hundred vertues raunging on a rowe, Thou there shalt see, how fame her trumpe doth blowe, For greate exploytes: where when thou art renownde, Then fame thy name through all the world shal sounde.

8.

And when thou hast obtainde that place with payne, There is no doubt desert will honour haue, Which being had, beware that waltering waue Of wordly lust, which vertue doth disdayne, Beware least thou thy former deedes doost staine: For he who could himself from sinning saue, He seeking that which most his minde did craue: Which being founde, his feeble feet dooe faynt, And strayght he doth with sinne himselfe acquaynt.

9.

When man hath most of that he doth desire, Then most the fleshe doth force the soule to sinne, The ende doth proue how wel we do beginne: For he who doth from vertue’s lore retire, His wretched ende doth make the worlde admire: Let him therfore which will the garlond winne, Euen to the end auoyde the hatefull ginne Which Satan sets, with traynes of tastlesse bayte, The glosse whereof prognosticates desayght.

10.

What gayne is got by him who runnes in hast, If that his stumbling feete do make delay? An other man doth beare the price away, He got no game, one fall hath hym defast: Euen so that man from fame is quite displaste, If once his feete in vice’s steppes do stay, As may appeare by me, and my decay: For once I slipt, one vice did me deface, One onely vice did _Alurede_ disgrace.

11.

I the fourth sonne of _Ethelwolfus_ king, Twice tenne and eight I wore the _Saxon_ crowne, For martial feates I had a greate renowne, My gouernaunce was good in euery thing, I rulde my realme to euery man’s liking, My stature tall, my face did neuer frowne, My learning did deserue a lawrell crowne,[1226] My wisedome and my iustice purchast fame, My courage bolde dyd much extoll the same.

12.

In seuen conflictes I did the _Danes_ destroy, But more ariude which did me more molest, Yet they likewise were by my meanes destrest: But when my strength their strength could not destroy, I did deuise a pretty pleasant toy, By meanes whereof my _Saxon_ soyle was bleste: Amidst my fone I minstrel like did ieste, I playd the part of _Scoggin Skelton’s_ mate, Transformde, I trudgde about from gate to gate.

13.

In minstrel’s robes my fiddle tuned fine, With warbling notes my toung the song did sing, Myne eyes and harte did note eche other thing That there was done: first how they did incline, There lothesome liues, much like to filthie swine: I playd my part before their hoggish king, A part which him and his to bale did bring: For when I knewe their purposed intent, By my returne I made them al repent.

14.

For in the night I did their campe inuade, With bloddye blade I did destroy them al, And those which did as then escape the thrall, Of infidels them christened men I made,[1227] And though with warres my realme were quite decay’d, Yet at the laste after so greate a fal, I wonne the price that pleasde me most of al: Euen quiet peace a blesse of al the best, The frute whereof is nothing els but rest.

15.

Thus being blest with peace and quiet rest, At _Oxford_ I a grammer schoole did buyld, By meanes whereof my common weale was filde With learned men: and hauing thus my hest, A abbies buylt, esteeming it the best, That God who me in al my warres did wielde, And me preserude euen with his myghtie shielde, That he in peace the only prayse myght haue, I buylded up religious houses braue.

16.

At _Winchester_ the minster there I made, At _Shaftesburye_ I buylt a nunnerye, I daily did erect diuinitie:[1228] All which good deedes euen by one wicked trade, Were quite defaste and from my fame did fade: O hateful thing that fuming fantasye, Should make a man that seeth, not to see: Alas, I byte on pleasure’s bytter bayte, Whose hateful hookes are couered with desayte.

17.

In lawlesse loue I had a great delyght, That sugered sweete of little lasting ioye, Those luering lookes of dayntie damsels coy, Made me committe that lyke a carpite knighte, I did consume ful many a day and nyght With such delyghtes as did my name anoye, My health and life at last they did destroy: Yea these delightes did so my fame deface, That now with shame I blushe to shewe my face.

18.

Those lewde delightes did drawe me to disease, Consuming sicknesse brought me verye lowe, Phisitions they _Sicus_[1229] that euil do know, A kinde of sore which did me much displease, It alwayes did bereaue me of my ease:[1230] On partes belowe that gryping griefe doth growe, On me my God a iust reuenge did show, And at the last continuing in my sinne, I lost my lyfe, and hateful hel did winne.

19.

What though I did from forayne foes defend My _Saxon_ soyle, with thrice renowmed fame: What though I rulde with equitie the same:[1231] What though to buyld vp abbies I did bend My selfe, and prayd that God his worde would send: Though these good deedes did honour much my name, Yet these defaste with deedes of foule defame, Be of no price: for filthie fleshly luste Destroyd them al, and layd them in the duste.[1232]

20.

For as you see dissolued clowdes with rayne The beames of _Phebus_ do deface: Euen so one sinne did al my vertues race, They blemished myne honor with disdayne, So that I finde al vertue is in vayne, If vices be with vertue linkt in place, On vice an hundred vertues doth disgrace: Therefore the man who hopeth for renowme, Must fight with flesh, and beate al vices downe.

21.

And hee who can his raging wyl resiste, Is much more strong then _Alexander_ greate, Who wonne the worlde, yet had he not the feate, With conquest to compel his lawlesse liste, To do the thing whereby he might be bliste: But they who hope to haue a heauenly seate, Their lust and fleshly fancies downe must beate: And hereby me you may perceiue at large, The thinges which God committeth to man’s charge.]

[THE INDUCTION.

“It is requisite,” quoth _Memory_, “that now you seeke for _Edmund Ironside’s_ father, I meane _Egelrede_, of some writers called _Etheldrede_, who as his predecessor, _Alurede_, had but one vice, so hee had neuer a vertue. In whose time the _Danes_ dyd more then ouerrunne _England_, for they ruled and raigned ouer the whole realme, and although a very valiant impe proceeded out of his raynes, who for his ablenesse to indure paynes and trauayle, was surnamed _Ironside_; yet had not _William_, duke of _Normandy_, nephew vnto the saide _Edmunde_, made a conquest therof, the _Danes_ no doubte had ruled it euen vnto this day. It is necessary, therfore, that we heare this man’s complaynt.” “I haue hym here,” quoth _Inquisition_, “but I haue no minde to heare him speake, for seeing he dyd dispise all vertue and learnyng, it is to be thought that hee wyll tell a crooked tale, such a one as wil (I feare except it be fyled after him) deforme all the rest. But I wyl take paynes to polish that which he roughly doth frame.” “Not at all,” quoth _Memorie_, “the browne byl is a goodly weapon: and let it suffise if the matter wyll beate downe vice, let the meeter delight as it may.” “Seeing you saye so,” quoth _Inquisition_, “I am content that by the example of his death, he may admonish all the worlde to flee the fall which he felt.” Wherewith he stepped forth, and saide as foloweth.]

THE COMPLAYNT OF EGELREDE.

How Egelrede for his wickednesse was diuerslye distressed by the Danes, and lastly dyed for sorrow, [seeing himselfe not able to deale with Canutus.][1233]

1.

The minde and not the man dooth make or marre, For as the stearne dooth guide the _Argocy_: So by their mindes all men they guyded are: From out the minde proceedeth fantasie, All outwarde actes, vertue or vanitie, Not from the man, but from the minde proceede: The minde dooth make the man to do eache deede.

2.

For _Phalaris_ with beastly bloudy minde, And _Nero_ dyd in murther much delight, To mercy _Antoninus_ was inclinde, _Midas_ for golde extended all his might: For worldly pompe how dyd _Pompeius_ fight? The mountyng minde of _Alexander_, made Hym winne the world, his fame can neuer fade.

3.

How dyd the minde moue _Calicratides_, _Xerses_, _Cirus_, and _Argantonius_? _Philip_ of _Macedon_, _Theramines_, _Aiax_, _Iason_, and _Aurilianus_, _chilles_, and the olde king _Priamus_, _Hector_, and _Hercules_, with false _Sino_, Their mindes dyd make them weaue the web of woe.

4.

The twig dooth bende as _Boreas_ blastes dooth[1234] blow, So man dooth walke euen as his minde dooth moue: Then happy hee who hath a minde to know Such thinges as be the best for his behoue: No doubt the minde which vertuous actes dooth loue, Dooth make a man euen _Cæsar_ to surpasse For noble deedes, who prince of prowesse was.

5.

But he who hath his minde to mischiefe bent, All his delight from vertue dooth decline, Lyke mee too late hee shall his faultes repent, His sinfull soule shall feele the fall in fine That I haue felte: which makes me to repine Against my minde, for nature dyd her parte, My euil inclyned minde dyd spoyle my hart.[1235]

6.

What though I were of comely personage? Joyntly my ioyntes were ioynde with perfect shape, Adorned eke with so sweete a visage, That neuer yet from nature’s handes dyd scape A worke ymade of such a perfect shape? But what of that? these giftes for want of grace, Deformed quite the feature of my face.[1236]

7.

For why, my minde to ruthful ruine bent, I did delyght in lothsome lecherie: I neuer did my odious deedes repent, In drunkennesse, in extreme crueltie, I did delight in euerye villannye.[1237] As for delyght in princely exercise, The feates of armes I did them most despise.

8.

By meanes whereof my subiectes did me hate, And forrayne foes, to burne my realme were bolde: With warre the _Danes_ did alter strayght the state: First fortune did my common-weale vnfolde, Then pestilence did make my courage colde: And last of al, the dreadful diuelish _Danes_[1238] Did make me pay them tribute for theyr paynes.

9.

Euen now the realme of _Englande_ dyd decaye: For when the _Danes_ theyr tribute had consumde, Forthwith they made vs greater summes to paye: From ten to fifteene thousand they presumde Of poundes to make vs pay, so I redeemde With money bagges my careful common-wealth:[1239] The onely meanes reserued for my health.

10.

When thus the wante of courage on my parte, Had geuen my foes so sure footing[1240] here, And when disease with her destroying darte, Had wypte away my subiects euery where: Euen then to late my wisemen did appeare, Whom heretofore I alwayes did detest Their counsayle graue, at last they thus exprest:

11.

“O _Egelrede_ the fruite of fearfulnesse, Of riote thou the right reward dost reape: But if thou wilt auoyde this wretchednesse, Be wise, and looke about before you leape: Of hateful happes you see a hidiouse heape Before your face, therefore in time geue eare, And wisely way the wordes which thou shalt heare.

12.

“That noble duke _Richarde_ of _Normandy_, A sister hath, whom thee we wishe to wed, By meanes whereof from this captiuity We may be brought, and that without bloodshed: For why these _Danes_, these _Normans_, so do dread, That if from thence an ayde we can procure, Thy foes no doubte can neuer long endure.

13.

“The mayd she may a prince’s fancye please, Her brother is a man of greate renowne: This way, O king, may make thy subiectes ease, It may restore the freedome of thy crowne: This onely way will force thy foes to frowne:[1241] If thou thy crowne and common-weale dost loue, Do thou the thing so much for thy behoue.”

14.

So by their meanes I maried the mayde, She _Emma_ hight, the floure of _Normandie_,[1242] Of whom I was so glad and wel apayde, That al the world with my prosperitie Could not compare: and in that iollitye I did deuise by traynes of secrete treason, To bring the _Danes_ to death, in a good season.

15.

I did a feast through al my realme proclame, At which both _Danes_ and _Englishmen_ did meete, Then secretely my friendes, and I did frame, That _Englishmen_ the _Danes_ shoulde friendly greete, And at the feast that they shoulde doo their feate: And that they might the better woorke their wyl, They thus were plast according vnto skill.

_Two before one, and three before fiue, Here two, and there two, and foure them beliue: Here one, and there one, and three at a cast, Then one, and twice two, and one at the last._

16.

They mingled thus, the watchworde wysely geuen, And _Englishmen_ with weapons wel bestead, The _Danes_ amidst their cuppes were shauen and shriuen: Fiue hundred thousand in one day were dead:[1243] Now note the ende of blood so beastly shed, For _Swane_ the king of _Denmarke_ did ariue, He for reuenge did me to _Richard_ driue.

17.

Marke here how lawlesse polices preuaile, Their good successe doo promise present payne: What, may man’s vayne deuises ought auaile? Dishonest deedes no honour can obtayne, Al murthering massacres be vile and vayne, Such suttle slayghtes haue neuer good successe; The proofe whereof with payne I here expresse.

18.

For _Swane_ with swoorde and fyre did[1244] destroye, Both man and beast, and euery earthly thing, He did that noble _London_ much annoy, He wonne the realme and was the _Englishe_ king: When tract of time him to his beere did bring, _Canutus_ then his sonne did him succeede, Whom to displace I did despatch with speede.

19.

My brother _Richarde_ duke of _Normandy_, Of _Normans_ gaue to me a goodly bande, By helpe of whom _Canutus_ forst to flee, I got agayne the kingdome of _Englande_, But out (alas) what thing may fyrmely stande, Whose vnder-propt is of so litle might? That want of strength dooth let thinges drop downright.

20.

_Canutus_ did from _Denmarke_ nowe returne, The wrathful wight appoynted passyng strong, My subiects slue, my cities he did burne; Which when I hearde I liude not very long, My faynting hart was thronged with a throng Of cares, which broke it in my feareful brest, And so at last death brought my bones to rest.

21.

Twice tenne and eight I ranne my ruthful race, And then in _Paule’s_ my cursed corps was layde, _Canutus_ did my common-weale deface, The _Danes_ were kinges, my kingdome was decayde,[1245] This worlde is frayle, and euery thing must fade, But alwayes that which wanteth gouernment, That fyrst dooth feele the force of danger’s dent.

[THE INDUCTION.

“O Memory,” quoth _Inquisition_, “what dyd become of _Edmunde Ironsyde_, of whom you made mention in your former induction?” “That vertuous valiaunt prince,” quoth _Memory_, “was miserably made away by an earle.” “By an earle,” quoth _Inquisition_, “I haue here an earle called _Edricus_, who murthered a kynge, it may bee, that chaunce hath yeelded vntoo vs the factour vnlooked for.” “He is euen the same,” sayd _Memory_, “and hys tragedye is very necessarie, for hee as thys woorthie kyng was set on a priuie, to doo as nature and necessitie dooth constrayne, caused hym miserably to bee thrust vp into the fundament wyth a speare, wherewith the good prince ended hys dayes.” “If we doo heare hym, geue hym warnyng,” quoth _Inquisition_, “that hee be briefe: for wee haue no tyme to bestowe in hearing the complayntes of those miserable princes, and yet wee muste needes heare one more besyde hym. Let him therefore goe roundly to the purpose.” “He shal not be tedious,” quoth _Memory_. Wherewith the wretched man sayde as foloweth.]

THE COMPLAINT OF EDRICUS.

Howe Edricus destroyed the valiant king Edmunde Ironsyde, hoping to haue greate preferment for his labour of Canutus the Dane, and howe the same Canutus caused him to be be-headed for his labour. A necessary example for al such as thinke by craft and deceite to increase their credited.[1246]

1.

You hellish hagges of limbo lake belowe, Which dayly doo my cursed corps torment, Come forth, come forth, come forth, (I say) and shewe How I on earth my dismal dayes haue spent: And wil you not, you wretched wightes, assent To helpe me here to tell that drierie tale, Which may amongst men liuing much preuayle?

2.

O cursed ghost condemde to endelesse thrall, Sith they refuse to aide thee in this neede, Doo thou declare and tel the truth of al, That men aliue my wretched woorkes may reade, And see the fruite of suttle Satan’s seed, Auoyding vice, and fancie’s fonde delight, Note wel my tale, the truth I shal recite.

3.

When _Etheldrede_ had geuen _Canutus_ place, _Edmunde_ his sonne, surnamed _Ironside_, Deuising howe he might his foe deface, By wrath of warre the cause they did decide: And in the ende the realme they did deuide: _Edmunde_ had halfe, _Canutus_ had the rest, Then they with peace and quietnesse were blest.[1247]

4.

O blinde beleefe, O hope of higher hope, Why did you moue my minde to meditate, Howe I in woe king _Edmunde_ might inwrap, And howe I might depresse my kinge’s estate? Thou blinde beleefe, thou breeder of debate, I wanting grace did let thee moue my minde, Causlesse to kil a courteous king, and kinde.[1248]

5.

He being kilde, I to _Canutus_ went, To whom I sayd: “See here a faithfull friend, I for thy loue with bloody blade haue bent,[1249] And brought my king to his vntimely ende: Thou by that meanes shalt rule thy realme with rest, My friendly fist with happie good successe, Hath thee inricht with blisse and happinesse.”

6.

“Hast thou,” quoth he, “destroyde thy souerayn king? Thou faythlesse fauning friende, for loue of me? Thou verlet vile, and couldste thou doo the thing The which might more abridge my libertie? O heynous acte! O bloody crueltie! But sith that loue did moue thee doo that deede, Thou for thy paynes shalt be preferde with speede.”

7.

Wherewith in haste he to the hangman said: “Let this man’s head the hyghest place obtayne On _London_ walles:” wherewith I neuer stayde, But on a blocke my necke was cut in twayne, In all men’s sighte, my head did long remayne: See here what wit the grape of hope dooth yeeld, See on what sand such busie braynes do builde.

8.

O hateful thing that fancie’s fonde delight, The sense of mortal man should senselesse make: When vice’s vaunts with vertue’s deedes dare fyght, Then dooth the soule the happie heauens forsake, Then man makes haste to _Plutoe’s_ lothsome lake: Why should man loue that sugered sowre sweete, Which wisedom’s lore to lothe hath thought most meete?

[THE INDUCTION.

“The iust rewarde for so vile an offence dothe proue,” quoth _Inquisition_, “this _Canutus_ to bee both a wise and a worthy prince.” “Yea,” saide _Memory_, “yf he had liued amongst those pratling poetes which made so muche tattle of _Hector_ and _Hercules_, certaynely he should not haue been inferiour vnto eche of them. This _Canutus_ was king at one time of foure kingdomes: as for _Englande_, and _Scotland_, and _Norway_, he held them by conquest: by birth he was the kyng of _Denmarke_: yea, he so demeaned himselfe, that duryng his lyfe all these foure kingdomes honoured him with the honoure due vnto a natiue king. But not long after his death, that good king, saint _Edmunde the Confessour_, obtayned agayne the rule of _Englande_, but chiefely through the helpe of his nephewe _William_, duke of _Normandy_, to whom, for that after his death he by lineall descent was next, he promised the crowne of _Englande_, if that he dyed without issue.” “Howe chaunced it then,” quoth _Inquisition_, “that the duke made such sharpe warre vppon _Harolde_, for the obteynyng thereof.” “Howe dyd it chaunce?” quoth _Memory_, “that is necessarie too be knowne, for that chaunce dyd not onely destroy the _Danes_, but it brought both _Harolde_ and the _Englishmen_ to confusion: and although nowe our idle houres be spent, tyme and our affayres doo call vs from the further hearing these men’s complayntes, yet let vs, as we may, heare what thys _Harolde_ wyll saye: hys story wyll furnishe our woorke with a fit conclusion. And for the better vnderstanding of this man’s matter doo you imagine that you see this king comming from the conquest of the _Danes_, euen sweating in hys armour, to saye, as followeth.”]

THE COMPLAINT OF HAROLDE.

Howe king Harolde raygnyng but niene monthes, had continuall warre with the Danes, with the Norway kyng, with his brother Tosto, and with duke William, who partely by hys strength, but chiefly by policie, overcame hym, and by killyng him in the feelde, obteyned the kingdomeof Englande. Thys historie dooth declare that no manhoode nor courage can keepe the crowne from the right heyre’s head[1250].

1.

Woulde he haue warre, and we to warre proclame? O bastarde duke, and dost thou dare to fyght? My noble men, come forth, and purchase fame: Geue me my swoorde, let me defende my right: Steppe foorth with speede my martiall men of myght: With bowes and bylles, let vs their course restrayne: And teach them that their vaunting vowes be vayne.

2.

But that we may with wysedome wisely woorke, It vs behoues in _Normandy_ to fight With hym, and not to let his souldiers lurke Here in my realme, we shal thereby achiue No noble acte, though hence we him do driue: But if we deale with him in _Normandy_, We shal receiue renowne and victorie.

3.

It is the best with forraine foes to fyght Abroade, as did the haughtie _Hannibal_, And not at home to feele their hatefuil spight: Of all the rest it is the greatest thrall, That foes ariud shoulde spoyle our subiectes all: And for a truth this alwayes hath bin found, He speedeth best which fightes on forrayne grounde.

4.

[My men of warre were mustered in hast, But hast to late was then of none auayle, The duke ariude, he in my realme was plaste, He euery where my subiectes did assayle, And euery where he caused them to quayle: For which I bode hym battaile by and by, Where equall warres gaue neither victorye.

5.

For both our strengthes were weakned in such wise, We both for breath to pause were wel content, Euen then the duke he wisely did deuise, How here to yeeld my crowne I might be bent: For whiche to me a pursiphaunt he sent, With letters, suche as here I shall recite, Wherein he claimes the _Brittayne_ crowne his right.][1251]

William Duke of Normandie, and ryght heyre to the Englyshe crowne, to Harolde the Vsurper.

Though birthright cannot cause thee yeeld to me my crown, Yet haue thou some respect of honour and renowne, For thou by oth didst sweare to yeeld to me my right, When as I thee prefer’d, and stalde thee there by might: Mine vncle _Edwarde_ he, thy father’s faythfull freende, Gaue me his crowne, and thou thereto didst condescend, Yet now thou wouldest fayne defeate me of my right, And proue thy selfe forsworne of former promise plight: Shall _Harold_ haue his hest? shal _Godwine’s_ sonne here[1252] guide? Shall _William_ want his wyl, and haue his ryght denide? Well _Harolde_, if thou canst with warres determine so, I am content: if not, prouide, I am thy foe: My sonnes and al my kinne shal neuer stint to striue, To plucke thee from thy place, whilst one is left aliue: But if thou wylt be wise, to me my right resigne, And thou shalt haue the place belonging to thy line: If not, with fyre and swoorde I meane thy realme to spoyle, I neuer hence[1253] wyll starte till I haue forst thy foyle: And now thou knowste my wyl, determine for the best, Thou maist haue warres, and if thou wylt, thou maist haue rest.

WILLYAM duke of Normandy.

6.

These letters were of little might, to make My manly minde to graunt hym his request, For which I did to fortune me betake, To wage new warres with hym I deemde it best, So from his fist his threatning blade to wrest: But see the force of fortune’s changing cheare, Another cloud before me did appeare.

7.

My brother _Tosto_[1254] who from me was flead, Did now returne, and brought the _Norway_ kyng: They did deuise to haue from me my head, Which made me to indite another thing Vnto the duke, then playne and true meaning: I gaue him hope of that I neuer meant: These were the lines which to the duke I sent.

Harolde the English King, to thee William, Duke of Normandie.

_Harold_ the _English_ king, thee _William_ Duke doth greete: Thy letter being read, I haue not thought it meete, Without a parliament to do so great a thing, As of a forrayne duke, to make an _Englishe_ kyng: But if my three estates will follow mine[1255] aduise, Thou shalt receiue the crowne, and beare away the price: Therfore delay a time, thou shortly shalt receiue With full consent the thing, which now thou seek’st to haue.

HAROLDE.

8.

Then I in hast my power did prepare,[1256] For why, I hearde my brother _Tostoe’s_[1257] trayne, Two of my earles by north he had destroyd,[1258] And manye a thousand men he there had layne: But when we met, his triumphe was in vayne: For I and myne the _Norway_ king there kilte, And I my selfe my brother’s blood there spilte.

9.

Now when the duke my friendly lines had read, And heard how I my men did muster newe, “There lies a snake within this greene grasse bed,” Quoth he, “therefore come forth my warrelike crewe, We will not staye to see what shall insue: By long delayes, from forrain coastes he may Procure an ayde, to scourge vs with decay.”

10.

But when he heard with whom I had to deale: “Well done,” quoth he, “let hym go beate the bushe, I and my men to the lurche line will steale, And plucke the net euen at the present push, And one of them we with decaye will crushe: For he who doth the victor there remaine, Shall neuer rest, till he hath dealt with twaine.”

11.

So I in vaine who had the victorie, Within fewe dayes was forst againe to fight, My strength halfe spoylde, the rest wounded and wearie,[1259] His campe was comne vnwares within my sight, There was no hope to flee by day nor night: I _Harold_ then, a haraude sent in haste, To know whither the duke his campe[1260] had plaste.

12.

He sent me woord, my yfs and ands were vaine, And that he knewe the driftes of my delay, For which he sayde he woulde yet once agayne Make trial, who shoulde beare the crowne away: If I would yeelde, he sayd his men should stay, If not, he then was present presently, To trye the cause by _Mars_ his crueltie.

13.

Which when I hearde, and sawe him march amayne, His trumpets did defy me to my face, In hast I did appoynt my very trayne, And souldier-like I al my men did place, I neuer sude, nor prayde, nor gapte for grace: For hauing plaste my men in battayle ray, [Myne ancient bearer did my armes display.[1261]

14.

The battayle, vanard, and the rerewarde, Were plaste in frunte, that men might fyght at wyll, The forelorne hope of bowmen I preparde, In skirmishing who had the perfect skil: With archers eke I did the winges fulfyl, To rescue them my men at armes were prest, Then thus my speech amongst them I exprest.]

15.

“My mates, in armes see here the last assault, Winne now the fielde, and be you euer blest: This bastarde base borne duke, shal be exalt Himselfe so high? giue eare vnto my hest, This day no doubt we shall haue quiet rest: For good successe shal set vs free from feare, Or hateful happe shal bring vs to our beare.

16.

“Euen here at hand his power doth appeare, March forth my men, we must no longer stay, Let euery man abandon faynting feare, And I as guyde wyl lead you on your way: Euen I my selfe the formost in the fray, Wyl teach you how you shal abate his pride: Fight, fight my men, Sainct _George_[1262] shal be your guide.”

17.

His cros-bowe men my archers did assayle With three to one, yet were they al to weake: And when his forlorne hope could not preuayle, Them to assist his horsemen out did breake, Three troopes I sent on them the wrath to wreake, And by and by the battayles both did ioyne, With many a thrust, and many a bloudie foyne.

18.

Of three mayne battayles he his armie made, I had but one, and one did deale with three: Of which the first by me were quite dismayde, The other two they did discomfort me, Not yeelding, but in yeelding blowes we bee (With losse of life) constrayn’d at last to yeelde The crowne, the kingdome, and the foughten feelde.

19.

Note now the lot which on my limmes did lyght, Nine monthes no more, I wore the _Englishe_ crowne, In euery month I in the feelde did fight, In euery fyght, I wonne a freshe renowne, Yet at the last my strength was beaten downe: And here before you, now I do protest, I neuer had one day of quiet rest.

20.

For fyrst with warre I wonne the princely seate, With ciuil strife I dayly was distrest, My brother twise indeuorde to defeate Me of my throne, the _Norway_ king was prest, The dreadful _Danes_ they dayly mee distrest: At last, this duke did make me strike my sayle, When winde, nor tide, nor oares, myght[1263] preuayle.

21.

My kingdome then was proude his lawful price, With conquest he recouered his right, And as you see of conquering the guise, The _Englishmen_ they were defaced quite; Then of his trayne he did prepare[1264] ech wyght: And this was that which onely brought me blesse, I did not liue to see this wretchednesse.

22.

But woe to me which caused al this coyle, I was an earle my father being dead: Why did my brest with scalding malice boyle, To kepe the crowne from the right heyre’s head? O fancye fonde, thy fuminges hath mee fed, The stinking stinch of thyne inclined hest, Hath poysoned al the vertues in my brest.

23.

The ruthful roodes[1265] of proued euil[1266] successe, Who hath sustaynde that passing pinching[1267] payne, That woful wight al wrapt in wrecthednesse, Can well report man’s fancye is but vayne: That man doth know, by proofe he findes it playne, That he who stoopes to fancie’s fond desires, Doth grope for grapes amidst the bramble briers.

24.

Let no man thinke by fetches finely filde, By double drifts conuayed cunningly, To get or gayne by any craft or guile, A good estate with long prosperitie: His lust obtaynde, he liues in miserie, His guiltie ghost dooth see his plague appeare, Who goeth straight he needeth not to feare.

FINIS.

_Goe straight and feare not._

END OF PART II.

VOLUME THE FIRST.

T. Bensley, Printer, Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In discussing the first and second heads, it must be recollected that the subject confines the inquiry to that portion of the work, which was edited by _William Baldwin_, and forming Part III. in the present edition.

[2] _Hist. of English Poetry_, vol. iii. p. 209.

[3] _Bibliographia Poetica_, p. 88.

[4] See vol. ii. p. 7.

[5] This must have been Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who was made Chancellor 21 Sept. 1553, and died the 13 Nov. 1555. On his death the great seal was entrusted to Sir Nicholas Hare, Master of the Rolls, and on the first of January following it was given to Dr. Nicholas Heath, the Archbishop of York.

[6] The copy before me wants the title. The colophon as follows: _Thus endeth the nynth and laste boke of Iohnon Bochas, whiche treateth of the fall of princes, princesses, & other nobles. Imprinted at London in flete strete by Richarde Pynson, printer vnto the kynges moste noble grace, & fynisshed the xxi. day of Februarye, the yere of our lorde god. M. CCCCC. XXVII._ Folio. Has sig. P. P. viij, the preceding signatures in sixes and the first alphabet wanting Y & Z. Ends at fo. CCXVI. This edition differs materially from the one printed by Tottell.

[7] _A treatise excellent and compendious shewing and declaring, in maner of Tragedye, the falles of sondry most notable Princes and Princesses with other Nobles, through y^e mutabilitie and change of vnstedfast Fortune together with their most detestable & wicked vices. First compyled in Latin by the excellent Clerke Bocatius, an Italian borne. And sence that tyme translated into our English and Vulgare tong, by Dan John Lidgate Monke of Burye. And nowe newly imprynted, corrected, and augmented out of diuerse and sundry olde writen copies in parchment._ Colophon. _Imprinted at London in Fletestrete within Temple barre at the sygne of the hande and starre, by Richard Tottel, the x day of September in the yeare of oure Lorde._ 1554. _Cum Privilegio ad imprimendum solum._ Folio: folds in Sixes. Extends to Pp. vj. the first alphabet wanting Z, and the dance of Machabree having for sig. ¶ ¶, in six. Ends at fol. CC. xxiiii.

[8] Head title: _The daunce of Machabree wherin is liuely expressed and shewed the state of manne, and howe he is called at vncertayne tymes by death, and when he thinketh least theron; made by thaforesayde Dan John Lydgate Monke of Burye._

[9] It is entitled: _The tragedies, gathered by Jhon Bochas, of all such Princes as fell from theyr estates throughe the mutability of Fortune since the creacion of Adam, until his time; wherin may be seen what vices bring menne to destruccion, wyth notable warninges howe the like may be auoyded. Translated into Englysh by John Lidgate, Monke of Burye. Imprinted at London, _by_ John Wayland, at the signe of the Sunne ouer against the Conduite in Fletestrete. Cum Priuilegio per Septennium._ The title is in the architectural compartment of John Day the printer, where the two Atlas figures upon pedestals support the entablature, having the royal arms central, and at the bottom Day’s rebus, of one person awaking another, pointing to the rising sun, in a frame before a bar, having “ARISE, FOR IT IS DAY.” Folio, 189 leaves.

[10] History was always recommended as supplying interesting lessons for youth, and a fit amusement for the avoiding idleness for gentlemen.--“Cosmography,” says the intelligent Sir Thomas Eliot, “beyng substancially perceyued, it is than tyme to induce a chylde to the redyng of histories. But fyrst to set hym in a feruent courage, the maister in the most pleasant and elegant wise, expressyng what incomparable delectacion, vtilitee, and commoditee shall happen to emperours, kinges, princis, and all other gentylmen, by redyng of histories.” _The boke named the Gouernour._ 1553. B. I. Ch. XI.--As a proper study for gentlemen it is more largely enforced by an anonymous author, who says: “To auoyd this blemyshe of idlenes, whiche defaceth vtterly the lyfe of gentlemen, it behoueth them alwayes to be occupyed, and although there wante sumetyme mete occacion of corporall exercyse, yet the mynde of man maye be occupyed much to the increase of hys knowledge and vnderstandyng: wherin ther can be nothynge more meete for gentlemen then the readyng of histories, a most excellent and laudable exercise for them, euen so muche as historyes are called the bokes of kynges and princes, because vnto rulers of this earthe the knowlege of histories is most profitable, and very necessary to be read of all those whyche beare office and authority in the communwealth. Siculus affirmeth that the reading of histories is to younge men moste proffitable, for because by them they learne the righte institucion of their liues, and that by meanes of readynge sundrye thynges their wittes are made equall with their elders that haue gone before them. Moreouer he saieth that it maketh priuate men worthy to becom rulers ouer others, it prouoketh Capitaines in the warres to seke immortal glory throughe their worthye deedes, it maketh soldiers more earnest to enter into perilles for the defence of their country, by reason of the laud and fame that is geuen vnto men after theyr deathe, and also it feareth euill disposed men, and maketh them ofttimes refraine from dooing of mischiefe by reason of the shame that commeth therof, regestred in histories to their dishonoure. In histories are to be learned manye morall lessons to the vnderstanding of thinges past, the ordre of thinges present. By them we lerne to knowe howe princes and rulers of thys worlde haue passed their liues, as sum geuen to knowledge of sciences, sume to see iustice truelye executed, other geuen to pitie, others to peace, quyetnes, and care of the commune wealthe.” _The Institvcion of a Gentleman_, 1568.

[11] With that view Hearne noticed the Mirror for Magistrates as a work in which “are several things of note to be consulted by those who write of the English history.” MSS. Col. vol. i. p. 133. Bod.

[12] The title was repeatedly borrowed even by popular writers. There was: “_The Mirrour for Mutabilitie, or principall part of the Mirrour for Magistrates, describing the fall of diuers famous Princes, and other memorable Personages. Selected out of the sacred Scriptures by Anthony Munday, and dedicated to the Right Honorable the Earle of Oxenford. Honor alit Artes. Imprinted at London by John Allde and are to be solde by Richard Ballard, at saint Magnus Corner. 1579._”--“_Mirrour of Mirth, a story book by R. D. 1583._” CAPELL’S _Shakesperiana_, N^o 150. _A Mirrour for Magistrates of Cities, &c. by Geo. Whetstone_, 1584, and _The English Myrror_, in three parts, by same Author, 1586. Also the _Mirrour for Mathematikes_; a _Mirrour of Monsters_, &c. Warton also mentions, upon the manuscript authority of Coxeter: _The Mirrour of Mirrours, or all the tragedys of the Mirrour for Magistrates abbreuiated in breefe histories in prose. Very necessary for those that have not the chronicle. London, imprinted for James Roberts in Barbican, 1598._ No copy of this work has yet been discovered.

[13] In 1560 was published GODET’S _Chronicle_. It may be conjectured that that work was printed, to the reign of William the Conqueror, before the appearance of the M. for M. in the year preceding, when the compiler, from the reception of that poem, was induced to alter his descriptions from prose to octave stanzas. As this Chronicle is of more than usual rarity, I shall venture to extend this note with some account of it, premising, that in the continuance of Ames, Mr. Dibdin will give a minute analysis of the work, accompanied with a specimen of the very curious wood cuts.

This Chronicle takes its name from the colophon: “Imprinted at London by Gyles Godet dwellinge in Blacke Frieres.” It was printed on a long roll in divisions, with bold well executed portraits, cut in wood, of our ancient patriarchs and monarchs, each having an ensign of arms, and beneath a brief narrative of the principal events of each life. The Roll commences with the following address:

“To the reader. Beholde here (gentle reader) a brief abstract of the genealogie and race of all the kynges of England, from the floudde of Noe, vntill Brute, at whiche tyme this contrye was called Albion, takyng that name of one of the thirtie sisters (as some saye) whose name was Albion: or as other some saye, so named by mariners, bicause of the white Cliffes that are on the costes of the same. And afterward from Brute to Athelscaine, at which time it was named Britaine, taing name of Brute: from Athelscaine, the first of the Saxons, (at which tyme it chaunged that name of Britayne, & was called England) to william Conquerour. And from william Conquerour to this present day. And if by chaunce thou fynde any thyng herein fautye, or not agreeing with some other cronicles, vnderstand that the diuersities of the cronicles of our realme, be so great, (especially in thinges long past) that it is very difficult, to make a certain & true report thereof. Not with standing, I haue vsed the helpe of the best Cronicles that haue [been] wrytten therof, & gone so neare to the truth, as to me seemed possyble. I haue also set forth the pourtraiture of their personages, with their true armes: also briefly their gestes, & deedes with the yeares of their raygnes & places of their burials, according as I haue found mention therof: Beesechyng the to accept my good wyll, and to receyue thys my laboure in good part: which if thou do, it shal not only be the accomplishyng of my request, but also shal encourage me hereafter, to vse my little talent, farther. Farewel.”

The “portraitures” commence with a square compartment representing “Noe” asleep in a vineyard and his three sons. See Genesis, C. IX. v. 22, 23. Then follows a three quarter length of each monarch, with a summary of their “gests” or acts printed underneath. Their names are

Noe, Cham, Mesraim, Laabin, Tuscus, Altheus, Camboblascon, Dardanus Ericthonius, Tros, Eneas, Ascanius, Siluius, Brutus.

Here another square compartment exhibits “the foundation of the cytie of London,” in a view of the Thames, with a Tower nearly built on the one side and foundations for buildings upon the other, with workmen, &c. Brutus “founded the cytye of Troynouant; (whiche is as muche to say, as:) New Troye, whiche afterward, was repayred & garnyshed with Towers and faire buyldynges, by Kynge Lud: And from his tyme, it was called Ludstone: and afterwarde by corruption of speache, was called London. So that from the begynnyng of the foundacion of the same Cytye, to this present yeare, (whiche is the yeare of our Sauiour 1560) we fynde it to be 2690. yeares, or there about.” Then succeed

Locrinus, Maddan, Memprise, Ebrancke, Brute the ii, Leyl, Lud Hurdibras, Bladud, Leir, Queen Cordeile, Morgan & Conedag, Riueall, Gurgustius, Sysyllus, Jago, Kymar, Gorbonian, Dunwallon, Bellinus, Gurgwin Batrus, Guitellin, Sicilius, Morindus, Gorbonianus, Archigall, Elidurus, Vigenius & Peridurus, Gorbonias, Morgan, Emerianus, Idwall, Rimo, Geruntius, [Here the names of 26 kings are given in genealogical circles, according to succession, of whom “we fynd not much written” and we may presume, that circumstance the reason for omitting any supposed resemblance of them.] Elinguellus, Hely, Lud, Casseuelanus, Tenentius, Kimbeline, Guinderus, Aruiragus, Marius, Coell, Lucius, Bassianus, Carasius, Asclepiodotus, Coell, Constantius, Constantyne, Octauius, Traherus, Maximianus, Gratian, Constantyne, Constans, Vortiger, Vortimerus, Aurelius Ambrose, Vter Pendragon, Arthur the great, Constantyne, Aurelius Conan, Vortiporuis, Malgon, Cathericus, Cadwan, Cadwallon and Edwyn, Cadwallader.

“Here endeth the raignes of the Britaines, from the time of Brute to Cadwallader, and then this realme being in great misery, the English Saxons inuaded it, and so raigned vntill the comming in of willyam Conqueror.” As

Athelscayne, Egbrut, Edelnulph, Alfred, Edward, Athelstone, Edmond, Edred, Edwin, Edgar, Edward, Etheldred, Edmond Ironsyde, Ciuiton or Swayne, Herauld, S. Edward, Harauld.

“Here endeth the raignes of the Saxon kinges: & beginoneth the raigne of willyam Conquerour, who slewe the last of the Saxons ligne, & conquered the land: & from him, to our Souueraine lady the Queenes maiestie that nowe is, whom god prospere. Amen.”

From William the Conqueror to Q. Elizabeth, the names of the portraits are according to the general regal table. With that king the compiler of the Chronicle commences his description in octave stanzas, of which a specimen for comparative use may be here preserved.

Willyam Conquerour i.

William Conquerour Duke of Normandy Conquered England and began there to raign The thousand syxty syx yeare truelye Of Christ: but the Englysh men rebelled again Yet he subdued them to their great paine, And brought y^e king of Scottes to his obeissance With his eldest son Robert, warre he did sustain In Normandy: & with king Philip in France.

In Fraunce he fell sycke and tooke his death And to his son Robert which then was most old, The Dukedome of Normandy he did bequest. To his Sonne called William Rous he wolde The Realme of Englande; but his gold He wylled to his yongest sonne Henrye And XXI. yeare he raigned it is told And lyeth buried at Cane in Normandy....

Phillip and Mary.

The yeare a thousand fyue hundreth fyftythre was Mary cround in England queen to raigne who then allowed the Popes authoritie Erectinge eke all Papistry agayne And after maried with Phyllip king of Spaine who raignde with hir as king, and yet was he Not crounde, wherby no claime he could attain She being dead of England kyng to be.

Hir raigne, hir port and eke hir gouernment So rife in memory still with vs remaines That it to shewe the tyme in vayne is spent And eke to me it seemes but needlesse paynes: Hir soule is fled, hir body still remaines At Westminster the same eke buryed ys fiue years she raygnd: Lo thus is death y^e gains And eke the end of all this worldly blysse.

Elizabeth.

O England nowe of right thou mayst reioyce, Sith myghtye Joue hath placed in princely throne, Elisabeth, therfore with heart and voyce, Prayse God: and giue all laude to him alone, Whose myghtye hand hath placed nowe suche one, As vertues force full amply hath endued: More hope of welthe and ioye we haue had none, Then God his grace to vs nowe hath renued.

For we his wrath against vs stil did moue, And he his grace thus vndeserued sent, We did rebell and he did shewe his loue, In placing hir, whiche with our whole intent We so did wishe: nowe let our heartes relent, And pray to God that as she gracious is, We maye be worthye tyll our lyues be spente, Hyr to enioye, and thankfull be for this.

Only two copies of this rare chronicle are at present known, and those are in the collections of Earl Spencer, and the right honourable Thomas Grenville.

[14] Warton, in the account of the Mirror for Magistrates, given in his History of English Poetry, Vol. III. at p. 216, has copied the title of the edition of 1559, then extracted Baldwin’s Dedication from that of 1563, as from the same. In another place he refers to the Induction as printed in 1559. But this confusion is still more exceeded by the following note at p. 220. “These lines in Collingbourne’s legend are remarkable, fol. cxliiii. a.

Like Pegasus a poet must have wynges, To flye to heaven, or where him liketh best; He must have knowledge of eternal thynges, Almightie Jove must harbor in his brest.”

The reference of roman capitals can only be to the edition of 1563, where the second line stands thus:

“To flye to heaven, _thereto to feede and rest_.”

The above alteration first appeared in 1571.

[15] The following critical disquisition upon the claim of Sackville, contained in a letter from my intelligent and excellent friend Sir Egerton Brydges, it would be unjustifiable on my part to suppress, however militating against the position I have above sought to establish:

“You have made out (he writes) a strong case; and some of your inferences cannot be controverted: but I think that others are pressed a little too far. That no contribution of Sackville appeared in the first edition of the Mirror cannot be denied. That Sackville was not one of the party engaged in the original design stopped by the Lord Chancellor, is at least equivocal. According to my construction of Baldwin’s words, he was one of that party, who, when a stop was put to the plan adopted by him, in common with his partners, purposed to execute the work by himself on a new plan of his own; and, in aid of that work, intended to obtain of Baldwin what had been finished by others, and to fit them to his own scheme. It is clear, that this happened before the publication of the first edition of the Mirror, because it was while the prohibition was in force. “How happened it then,” it may be asked, “that Sackville’s pieces did not appear in the first edition?” Perhaps because the hope of completing his own design, though delayed, might not then have been abandoned. The delay might have caused his coadjutors not to wait for him, though he himself might not yet be prepared to bend his own nobler scheme to theirs. Four important years from 1559 to 1563, the interval which elapsed between the appearance of the first and second edition, might, and if we examine the history of his life, most probably would effect this change. In the days of Q. Mary he had the opportunity of cultivating and ripening into fruit his poetical genius, which would require, as in most other cases, the nurture of leisure and solitude. The accession to the throne at this time of a Princess, to whom he was nearly allied, and with whom he soon became, and always continued, a favourite, opened to him other and more active prospects. The paths of ambition, however thorny and full of dangers they might prove to long experience, were too alluring to an high fancy and vigorous talents, when thus invited. At first he might be still unwilling to abandon the pursuits of his youth, of which he could not be insensible to the dignity and the virtue, and which the conscious grandeur of genius must tell him that wealth and birth could not rival, and princes could not qualify him for. But he who once accustoms himself to the intoxicating cup of worldly ambition, too generally feels that it gradually undermines the strength of his higher intellect and nobler resolves; and that he sinks into the common notions, feeble sentiments, and groveling amusements of ordinary men. In four short years, the vigorous and inspired hand of Sackville might no longer possess either the impulse, or the skill, or the strength, to strike the lyre, which formerly returned to his touch alternate strains of sublime morality and glowing description. In this state of mental apostacy or dereliction, he might finally abandon his youthful project of poetical glory, and give the mighty fragment to his old coadjutor Baldwin, who seems to have had taste enough to perceive its superiority; and to resolve not to lose the attraction of so splendid a patch to his work, though its execution, as well as its plan, rendered it impossible to make it coalesce with the rest of the performance.

Warton therefore, though he cannot be entirely freed from the charge of having expressed himself somewhat ambiguously in the application of the words _primary inventor_ to the general plan of the Mirror for Magistrates, yet may be justified in substance, if he meant, as I conceive he did, to apply it to the only part to which the praise of invention could be applied; that is, to the _plan of Sackville_.

Warton has well called the whole of this work, except the part executed by Sackville, “biographical details.” This is their precise character: they are scarcely ever animated by any of the ingredients of poetry, at a period when true poetry was not utterly unknown, as not only the antiquated strains of Chaucer, but the later performances of Surrey and Wyat decisively prove. The popularity of this large collection of historical legends shews that the general taste of the nation was then low, vulgar, and uncultivated. Powerful and brilliant genius will at all times seize striking circumstances, produce picturesque effects, and omit disgusting, low, or uninteresting particulars: but more ordinary minds, which require long discipline, and example, and experience, to lead their taste, are insensible to these arts, either as writers or readers, in early stages of literature. In an advanced age of mental polish, even inferior authors catch a considerable portion of this skill; and even the multitude, who seek amusement in books, have learned to demand it. To a common eye therefore, there does not _then_ appear such an immeasurable distance between the Works of natively-gifted poets, and the herd of imitators who borrow their outward garb. In our days there would not have been put forth a publication, combining such poetical excellence of the highest kind, as Sackville’s Induction and Legend contain, with a number of productions deficient in the very elements, and even shape, of poetry. All would have been polished into something like the same external form.

But this very discordancy gives _The Mirror for Magistrates_ a high value among the records of the history and progress of the human mind. For the purposes of the English philologist; for the development of the first dawnings of our poetical phraseology; for the investigation of the commencement of that “_ornate style_,” as it has been well called by a modern critic, which at length became so copious and laboured, as to make the greater part of that which assumed the name of poetry, little better than a piece of hollow mechanism, till one or two poets, of genuine inspiration, disgusted with its emptiness, put it out of fashion, by a plainer and more vigorous style; for these purposes, the _Mirror for Magistrates_, is a treasure meriting the most serious attention and study of the English scholar; and therefore well worthy of the reprint, which will render it accessible to his inquiries.

S. E. B.”

[16] See it described p. iv. note §[i.e. Footnote 9 in this text].

[17] The copy of the quenes Maiesties letters Patentes. Mary by the grace of God, Quene of Englande, Fraunce, and Ireland, defendour of the faith, and in earth of the Churche of Englande, and also of Ireland, the supreme head. To al Prynters of bookes, and bookesellers, and to al other our Officers, Minysters, and Subiectes these our letters patentes hearing or seing gretyng. Knowe ye that we of oure especial grace and meare mocion: haue geuen and graunted, and by these presentes doo geue and graunte full power, licence, auctoritie, and Priuilege vnto our welbeloued Subiect Jhon Wayland, Citezeyn and Scriuenour of London. That he & his Assignes only and none other person or persons shal from hensforth haue auctoritie, & lybertie to prynt al and euery such vsual Primers or Manual of prayers by whatsoeuer other title y^e same shal or may be called, which by vs our heyres, successours, or by our clergy by our assent shal be auctorised, set furth, and deuysed for to be vsed of all our louing subiects thoroughout all our Realmes, and domynyons, duringe the full tyme and terme of seuen yeares next ensuing the date of these our letters patentes. And farther that it shal not be lawful for any maner of other person, or persones of our said Subiectes, to Prynt or to procure to be imprinted, anye Prymers or Manuall of prayers by whatsoeuer title the same shall or may be called, or set furth, during the said tearme, nor any booke, or bookes, which the said John Waylande or his Assignes at his or theyr costes and charges shall first Prynte, or set furth during the said terme of seuen yeares next ensuing the printing of the same booke or bookes, vpon payne of forfature, and confiscacion of the same Prymers, Manuall of prayers, and bookes, to thuse of vs and oure successours. Wherfore we woll and commaunde all you our Printers, and other our Subiectes that ye nor any of you, do presume, procure, or attempt to print or set furth any maner Prymers, Manuall of prayers, booke or bookes, which the said Jhon Wayland or his assignes shal first print during the tyme of thys our Priuilege, and licence, vpon payne of forfature and confiscacion of the same Prymers, Manual of prayers, and bookes, as aforsaide. And as ye tendre oure pleasure, and wyl auoyde the contrarie. In witnes wherof we have caused these our letters to be made patentes. Wytnes ourselfe at Westminster the foure and twentith daye of Octobre, in the fyrst yeare of our reigne. Per bren de priuato sigillo et de data predicta.

[18] A license for the first part was obtained through the means of Lord Stafford in 1559, and when published that nobleman continued to make earnest calls upon Baldwin for that he had got from other men, which is given in the second part printed 1563. Whether the whole of the first, and what portion of the second part, was inserted in the folio edition is uncertain. The following passage in the prose conclusion of the second part bears incontestible evidence that it was written in the time of queen Mary. “The frantyke heades whiche disable our Queene, because she is a woman, and our kynge because he is a straunger, to be our princes and chiefe governours, hath caused me to saye thus much.” It is therefore probable that forming the conclusion of the suppressed edition, it was reprinted from the original text, and, as happens frequently by inadvertence at the press, without being corrected.

[19] Herbert possessed a copy, ad conjectured it was “printed to fill up a spare leaf, and perhaps to try the pulse of the public.” _Typographical Antiquities_, p. 565.

[20] The inspection of a larger proportion of the suppressed edition can alone solve many doubts as to the contents: nor does there appear any reason for not expecting to find the whole of the matter then printed, either in the library at Knowle, or some other unexamined collection of early English books! Why may it not be expected to discover the copy no doubt gotten by Sackville from Baldwin, before he wrote the Induction, when he intended to have all the tragedies “preserved in one volume?” Vol. II. p. 307.

[21] It appears probable that some addition was made to the work in 1559. See Vol. II. p. 53, note, and p. 111, note 1.

[22] That reviler of fashions, Philip Stubbs, exhibits by the following notice of the _Mirrour for Magistrates_ its early popularity, and a sign of his contracted reading by not knowing the contents, as, at the time he wrote, the legend of Henry the VIth had been twice printed. He says: “Holy king Henry [the sixth] was crowned in Paris, and yet lost all on that side before he was a man; and, before hys vnhappy death, he lost thys land also. So that he may with more reason be recorded among those fallen princes at the lowest of Boccace’s while; or in our English booke of _fallen Maiestrates_, there to be reconed up by any faythfull English man for a patent of imitation to our present Q. Elizabeth.” _Discouerie of a gaping Gulf._ 1579.

[23] See Vol. II. p. 8.

[24] Vol. II. p. 43.

[25] See upon that subject Vol. II. p, 168, note 1, &c.

[26] The title of this and the later editions by Marsh are in the compartment given with the title of each part of the present reprint.

[27] A copy is mentioned in Capell’s _Shakesperiana_, N^o 149.

[28] Higgins formed his plan on what had already appeared. In imitation of Sackville there is a poetical Induction, wherein the author is conducted by Morpheus, as the servant of Somnus, to a goodly hall, wherein successively appear the ghosts of all those whose legends are pronounced. Little invention was needed for these prolegomena, and in the selection of Morpheus, as an appropriate conductor, there exists a rivalry in one of the imitations of the Mirror for Magistrates also published in 1574. It is entitled

_The rewarde of Wickednesse Discoursing the sundrye monstrous abuses of wicked and ungodly worldelinges: in such sort set downe and written as the same haue beene dyuersely practised in the persones of Popes, Harlots, Proude Princes, Tyrauntes, Romish Byshoppes, and others. With a liuely description of their seuerall falles and finall destruction. Verye profitable for all sorte of estates to reade and looke upon. Newly compiled by Richard Robinson, Seruaunt in housholde to the right Honorable Earle of Shrewsbury. A dreame most pitiful, and to be dreaded._

_Of thinges that be straunge, Who loueth to reede: In this Booke let him raunge, His fancie to feede._

In the dedication to Gilbert Talbote, Esq. second son of the Earl of Shrewsbury, the work is described as composed to eschew idleness, when the author’s “turne came to serue in watche of the Scottishe Queene:” I then (he says) euery night collected some part thereof, to thend that nowe it might the better appeare, that I vsed not altogeather to sleepe: Though one time I chaunsed among many watchfull nightes to take a slumber, which incited mee to compile this fiction of poetry as more largely appeareth in my prologue.

The address to the reader is dated the XIX of Maie, 1574, and the Prologue describes the time of the dream as in December, after a “good ale feast,” when the author says:

I thought none yll, my heade was layde full saft, All carke and care my wandring sprite had laft.

Not lying thus one houre by the clocke, Me thought the chamber shone with torches bright, And in the haste at doore I hearde one knocke, And sayde: “What slugge, why sleepest all the night?” I starting vp behelde one in my sight, Dasht all in golden raies before me did appeare, And sayde: “I am a god, beholde that standeth here.”

Miue eares were filde with noysè of trumpets sounde, And dazled were mine eies, my sence was almost gon, But yet amazde my knee vaylde to the grounde, And sayde: “Heare lorde, thy will and mine be one, What is thy minde, more redie there is none, To ride, to runne, to trauell here and there, By lande and seas halfe worthie if I were.

But first to know thy name I humbly thee beseeche, Forgiue my rudenesse this of thee to craue:” He aunswering sayd, with meeke and lowlie speeche: “_Morpheus_ is my name, that alwaies power haue, Dreames to shewe in countrie, courte, or caue. In the heauens aboue, or Plutoe’s kingdome loe, Its I that haue the power each thing t’unfolde and shoe.”

Morpheus, as the guide, conducts the author through Pluto’s dominions, who selects the following subjects as fit for his muse. 1. Hellen, tormented for her treason to her husbande, and liuing in fornication ten yeares. 2. Pope Alexander the sixt rewarded for his wickednesse and odible lyfe, with his colledge of cardinals, bishops, abbots, moonckes, freers, and nunnes, with the rabble of greasie priestes, and other members of idolatory and superstition. 3. Young Tarquine rewarded for his wickednesse. 4. The rewarde of Medea for hir wicked actes, and false deceyuing of hir father, sleying of hir children, and hir owne brother, and working by inchauntment. This historie is merueylous tragicall and a good example for women. 5. The wordes of tormented Tantalus, being rewarded for his extortion and couetousnes: Oppressing the poore people of his countrey, and for other wicked actes. 6. The rewarde of an ambicious and vaine glorious counseller, called Vetronius Turinus, for his wicked life among them that hee might ouercome and for his pride. 7. The wofull complaint of the monstrous Emperor Heliogabalus for spending of his dayes in abhominable whoredome. 8. The two Iudges for slaundering of Susanna: and bearing false witnesse against hir, be rewarded for the same most terribly. Q. Pope Ihoan rewarded for hir wickednesse. 10. Newes betwene the Pope and Pluto, and of the proclamation about the ladder betwixt hell and heaven. 11. The torment of Tiranny and the reward for his wickednesse, being a king called Mydas, which tirannouslye swallowed not onely his countrey for lucre sake, but his housholde seruauntes also. 12. The rewarde that Rosamonde had in hell, for murdering of hir husbande Albonius and liuing vitiouslie in hir husbandes dayes. 13 Retourning from Plutos Kingdome, to noble Helicon: the place of infinite joy.--Col. Imprinted at London in Pawles Churche Yarde, by William Williamson.

[29] See Vol. I. p. 243. Where, in note 8, the reader is requested to alter 'first’ to 'second’ edition. In a few other notes the like alteration may be wanted. I did not obtain sight of the copy described above, until the volume was in print.

[30] By very close examination it appears, as if the whole of the first sheet was reprinted.

[31] In the present edition the very numerous notes subscribed with the initial N. will point out the unusual interpolations or substitutions made upon the original text by Niccols; as the [brackets] in the text also show the words, lines, and passages wholly omitted in the edition of 1610.

[32] To select only three may be sufficient. “I account (says Sir Philip Sydney, in the _Defence of Poesy_) the Mirrour of Magistrates meetly furnished of beautiful parts.” That profound critic, Edmund Bolton, says: “Among the lesser late poets, George Gascoigne’s work may be endur’d. But the best of those times (if _Albion’s England_ be not preferr’d) for our business is, the _Mirrour of Magistrates_, and in that Mirrour Sackvil’s Induction,” &c. And Oldys, in his preface before _The British Muse_, examining the reign of Elizabeth, observes: “At that time came out the fine collection, called _The Mirror for Magistrates_. This piece was done by several hands. It represents pathetically the falls of many great and unfortunate men of our nation, and beautifully advises others to avoid following their example. Besides the particular praises given this work by Sir Philip Sidney and Mr. Edmund Bolton, (another judicious critick, who writes not long after him;) that it received the general approbation, appears from its having been three or four times reprinted. Every impression had new additions from other eminent hands, amongst whom the Earl of Dorset is not the least conspicuous.”

[33] John Higgins was born about 1544. He was educated at Christ Church, and in 1572 describes himself as late student at Oxford. He did not learn the tongues or begin to write until he was twenty years of age, and then studied, chiefly, French and Latin. At twenty-five he taught grammar for about two years, and spent as much time in enlarging Huloet’s Dictionary. He also translated phrases from Aldus, the Flowers of Terence, and wrote, with divers other works, the first part of the Mirror for Magistrates before he was thirty. This brief account is related by himself in some lines preserved in a note at the end of the legend of Mempricius. (See vol. i. p. 102.) In December 1586, while residing at Winsham, in Somersetshire, or, as Wood has it, in Surrey, he prepared and edited, as already noticed, the best edition extant of the present work. Before 1602, it is not improbable, he had established a school at Winsham, or taken orders, for in that year he published a tract upon a subject of theological controversy. The time of his death is uncertain. For a list of his works see Wood’s _Athenæ Oxonienses_, vol. i. col. 734, ed. 1813.

[34] Thomas Blenerhasset was probably a descendant from the ancient family of that name which flourished in Norfolk temp. Hen. 8. of whom Jane B. is named by Skelton in _the Crown of Laurel_ as one of the bevy of beauties attendant upon the noble Countess of Surrey; and John B. married the daughter of Sir John Cornwallis, knt. the steward of the household to Prince Edward. Our author was educated at Cambridge, and having adopted a military life, was in 1577 stationed in the Island of Guernsey, and there composed his portion of the present work. As the printer, in the following year, tells us the author was “beyond the seas,” it is probable he had then accompanied his regiment to Ireland, where he went as a captain, settled and “purchased an estate. He died about the beginning of the reign of King Charles I. and was the author of _Directions for the Plantation in Ulster_, London, 1610.” _History and Antiquities of Ireland, by Walter Harris_, 1764, vol. ii. p. 333.

[35] The note vol. i. p. 371. is a misprint for “of th’ armed Picts.”

[36] George Ferrers was born at or near St. Albans, in Hertfordshire, educated at Oxford, and afterwards became a barrister of Lincoln’s Inn. In his juridical pursuit he published, _The great Charter called in latyn Magna Carta, with diuers olde statvtes_, &c. Colophon, _Thus endeth the booke called Magna Carta translated out of Latyn and Frenshe into Englysshe by George Ferrers. Imprynted at London in Paules church yerde at the signe of the Maydens head by Thomas Petyt._ M. D. XLII. An earlier edition was printed without date. He was a polished courtier, and esteemed favourite with Henry the 8th, although that capricious monarch, for some offence, the nature of which has not been discovered, committed him to prison in 1542, in which year he was returned member of parliament for the town of Plymouth. The anger of the king was probably not of long duration, as, in addition to other rewards, he bequeathed him a legacy of an hundred marks. He appears to have served in the suite of the protector Somerset, and was one of the commissioners in the army in the expedition into Scotland. By Edward the VIth he was made Lord of Misrule: an appointment to which genius and talent only could pretend, or give its needed prominence and effect. A warrant was issued, on the 30th November, 1552, to pay him, being appointed to be Lord of the Pastimes for the Christmas, 100_l._ towards the necessary charges. And the honest chronicler Stowe, gives the following account of the jovial pastime and eclat which attended the keeping this annual feast. “The king kept his Christmas with open houshold at Greenewich, George Ferrers gentleman of Lincolns Inne, being lord of the merrie disportes all the twelue daies, who so pleasantly and wisely behaued himselfe, that the king had great delight in his pastimes. On Monday the fourth of January, the said lord of merry disportes came by water to London, and landed at the tower wharfe, entered the tower, and then rode through tower streete, where he was receiued by Sergeant Vawce lord of misrule, to John Mainard one of the Sherifs of London, and so conducted through the citie with a great company of yoong lords and gentlemen to the house of sir George Barne lord maior, where he with the chiefe of his company dined, and after had a great banket, and at his departure, the lord maior gaue him a standing cup with a couer of siluer and gilt, of the value of ten pound for a reward, and also set a hogshead of wine and a barrel of beere at his gate for his traine that followed him: the residue of his gentlemen and seruants dined at other aldermens houses, and with the sherifs, and so departed to the tower wharfe againe, and to the court by water, to the great commendation of the maior and aldermen, and highly accepted of the king and councell.” In the reign of queen Elizabeth he again held the appointment of Lord of Misrule in the court, and as such devised and penned a poetical address which was spoken to her majesty before _the princely pleasures of Kenelworth-castle_, 1576. He is one of the most prominent contributors to the Mirror for Magistrates, and was undoubtedly intimate with all the leading persons that assembled together for the purpose of completing that work. I think it is probable that the edition of 1578, which has many exclusive alterations, and his two legends of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, so long withheld, then first inserted, was edited by him. He died at Flamstead in Hertfordshire, whereupon administration was granted May 18, 1579.

[37] Master Cavyll. Of this writer not any particulars are known.

[38] Thomas Chaloner, born in London about the year 1515, was descended from an ancient family of Denbigh in Wales. He studied at both Universities. Having accompanied Sir Henry Knevet, embassador from Hen. VIII. to the emperor Charles Vth, he afterwards was with that emperor in the expedition against Algiers in 1541. Upon his return to his native country, he became a favourite with the protectour Somerset, and for his gallant conduct at the battle of Musselburgh in 1547, “the protectour,” says Lloyd, “honoured him with a knighthood, and his Lady with a jewel, the delicate and valiant man at once pleasing Mars and his Venus too.” He went embassador with Sir William Pickering into France, 1553. Being a consistent protestant, he remained unshaken during the turbulent period of Queen Mary, devoting his time in retirement to literature, and then wrote his contribution to the Mirrour for Magistrates. Immediately upon the accession of Elizabeth, he was again called into active life, and successively her embassadour to the Emperor Ferdinand, and to Philip king of Spain, from which last, in consequence of his irksome situation, he obtained a recal in 1564, by addressing an Elegy, written in imitation of Ovid, to Elizabeth. He probably did not afterwards meddle with public affairs, dying at his own residence which he had built upon Clerkenwell Close, on Oct. 10th, 1565, and on the 20th was buried at St. Paul’s. His publications are enumerated in the _Biographia Britannica_, and Wood’s _Ath. Oxon._ Vol. I. col. 346; but his productions as an English poet are of recent discovery. In the _Nugæ Antiquæ_, edited by Mr. Park, 1804, Vol. II. p. 372, is the Epistle of _Helen to Paris_, translated from Ovid, by Sir Thomas Chaloner, Knt. which, from the date of the manuscript, and the contemporary testimony, now first discovered, in proof of his having indulged his Muse in her native tongue, may with confidence be assigned to his pen. The authority for the appropriation to him of the Legend of the Duke of Norfolk, is given in Vol. II. p. 53. In that authority he is called _Master Chaloner_ some years after his obtaining knighthood, and from that circumstance George Puttenham might allude to him when he praises “For Eglogue and pastorall poesie, Sir Philip Sydney and _Maister Challenner_, and that other Gentleman who wrate the late shepheardes callender,” although otherwise from the date of the _Art of Poesy_, being 1580, it might rather be transferred to his son, who was born 1559, and is said to have discovered at the University extraordinary talents in Latin and English poetry.

[39] Thomas Phaer is supposed to have been born in Pembrokeshire. He was educated, at Oxford, and afterwards became a student in the inns of court, and describes himself in 1558 “Sollicitour to the king and quenes maiesties, attending their honorable counsaile in the Marches of Wales.” From some unknown circumstance he suddenly quitted the practice of the law for that of physick, obtaining his degrees at Oxford, and was confirmed doctor March 21, 1558-9. In both professions his ready pen contributed several popular works to promote their general practice. As a poet, the first appearance of his name is prefixed to a few lines before Peter Betham’s _Precepts of War_, 1543. In May 1555, then residing in a house, which he possessed for a long term of years, in Kilgarran Forest, Pembrokeshire, he began to translate the Æneid of Virgil into English rhyme, which had not before been attempted. In this he proceeded at his leisure, and printed the first seven books in 1558, which were afterwards continued as far as part of the tenth, and left incomplete by his death. This work obtained him considerable reputation with contemporary scholars and critics. He was esteemed by William Webbe in the _Discourse of English Poetry_, 1586, as the best of those who had taken profitable pains in translating the Latin poets: and the encomiast also gives passages from the translation in proof of his own assertion of the meetness of our speech to receive the best form of poetry. Puttenham also praises “Phaer and Golding for a learned and well corrected verse, specially in translation, clear and very faithfully answering their author’s intent.” All that could be found of this work was added to the part already in print, and posthumously published by his friend William Wightman in 1562, who has given two verses at the end of the volume received from Phaer the day before his death, subscribed with his left hand, the use of the right being taken away through the hurt whereof he died. His will, dated August 12, 1560, was proved the June following, and he thereby directed his “boddie to be buried in the parish church of Kilgarran, [adding] with a stone vppon my grave in manner of a marble stone with suche scripture there vpon grauen, in brasse, as shalbe deuised by my friende master George Ferris.” An epitaph upon him is to be found with _Eglogs, Epytaphes, and Sonnettes, newly written by Barnaby Googe_, 1563, or in Reed’s _Shakespeare_, vol. ii. p. 103, n. and a Latin one by the author described in the last note, in the _Miscellanea Chaloneri_, 1579.

[40] William Baldwin is supposed by Wood to have been a west-countryman, and having studied several years in logic and philosophy at Oxford, supplicated for a degree in arts in January 1532. The scanty materials of his life neither shew his early pursuits nor connections. In 1549 he subscribes himself “seruaunt with Edwarde Whitchurche,” the printer; but what was his immediate station and dependance upon the press is uncertain, although he appears to have found employment therefrom for several years. It is conjectured by Herbert, that he was “one of those scholars who followed printing in order to forward the reformation,” and therefore submitted to the labour of correcting the press. Whatever department he filled, he was not considered an unfit associate by the best scholars. Besides, he was a court poet, as is shown by the following note from the _Apology_, by Mr. G. Chalmers. “A letter was written, on the 28th January, 1552-3, to Sir Thomas Carwerden, the master of the revels, to furnish William Baldwin, who was appointed to set forth a Play, before the King, upon Candlemas-day, at night, with all necessaries.” That he was very little dependant upon this occupation, appears by his answer to the printer, on his being counselled by many “both honourable and worshipful,” to continue Lydgate; for he refused “utterly to undertake it.” Such an answer to the solicitations of those who by birth and pursuits must have been considered the patrons of literature, can be little expected from the “servant” of the printer. In 1563 he tells his reader he has “bene called to another trade of lyfe,” and believed to have then taken orders, and commenced schoolmaster. With the exception of Sir Thomas Chaloner, he was probably the oldest man of the number who met by general assent to devise the continuation of Lydgate, and therefore made to 'vsurpe Bochas rome’, to hear the complaints of the princes: But another reason for fixing upon him, might be his long connection with the press. One of the earliest of his pieces was _a treatise of Moral Philosophy_, printed for E. Whitchurche, 1549, and speedily, and unblushingly adopted by Thomas Palfreyman. This compilation was nearly as popular as the Mirror for Magistrates, and went through many editions. “Keepe a smooth plain forme in my eloquence (says Tom Nash) as one of the Lacedemonian Ephori, or Baldwin in his morrall sentences, which now are all snatched up for painters’ posies.” (_Haue with you to Saffron Walden_, 1596.) He also penned _The Funeralles of King Edward the sixt_, “before his corse was buryed,” though not printed until 1560. The furniture of this poem seems a retouching after the Mirrour was commenced, vide _British Bibliographer_, Vol. II. p. 97. His other pieces are all enumerated in Wood’s _Ath. Ox._ Vol. I. col. 342. At what place and when he died is not known. There was a William Baldwin of Barrowe in the County of Lincoln, who died 1567, possessing Lands and Tenements in the territories of Normandy, Therilbie, Darbie, and Burton co. Lincoln; leaving four sons, William, Thomas, Edward, and Francis: but it is not easy to identify either father or son with our

“Baldwyne’s worthie name, whose Mirrour doth of Magistrates Proclayme eternal! fame.”

_Heywood._ 1560.

[41] John Skelton, poet laureat, born ...... died 21 June, 1529.

[42] John Dolman was student and fellow of the Inner Temple. He translated _Those fyue Questions which Marke Tullye Cicero disputed in his manor of Tusculanum_, 1561.

[43] Thomas Sackville was born at Buckhurst, in the parish of Withiam, in the county of Sussex. He was the only son of Sir Richard Sackville, knight, Chancellor of the Court of Augmentation to King Edward the VIth. afterwards to Q. Mary, and Under Treasurer of the Exchequer to Q. Elizabeth, (by Winifred Brydges); at whose death the jury upon the inquisition found that he died 21st April, in the eighth year of the reign of Elizabeth (1566), leaving his son Thomas S. then twenty-nine years of age, thereby making the time of his birth in 1537, a year later than that mentioned by all his biographers. Probably it should stand 1536-7. He was first sent to Hart-hall, Oxford, but removed to Cambridge, where he took the degree of Master of Arts, and was celebrated as a Latin and English poet at both universities. Like Phaer, Ferrers, and other contemporary wits, he was entered in the Inner Temple, and so far persevered in the study of the law as to be called to the bar. The earliest effort of his unrivalled genius that has been preserved was a joint production, and forms the first legitimate tragedy existing in our language. It was called by the authors _Ferrex_ and _Porrex_, but is more generally known as the tragedy of _Gorboduc_, and only composed for “furniture of part of the grand Christmas,” or revels, a species of amusement that combined dramatic representations with feasts and balls, and then occasionally kept with great magnificence by the society of the Inner Temple. This dramatic piece was first performed by the students in their hall, and afterwards by them on the 18th Jan. 1561, before Elizabeth at Whitehall. In this composition he is supposed to have assisted Thomas Norton, as, according to the title of the spurious edition of the play, of 1565, “three actes were written by Thomas Nortone, and the two laste by Thomas Sackvyle;” but the authorised edition of 1570, only extends to say it was “never intended by the authors thereof to be published,” and without attempting any thing like the above apportionment. The claim of Norton has been repeatedly doubted. Warton observes thereon: “The force of internal evidence often prevails over the authority of assertion, a testimony which is diminished by time, and may be rendered suspicious from a variety of other circumstances. Throughout the whole piece, there is an invariable uniformity of diction and versification. Sackville has two poems of considerable length in the Mirrour of Magistrates, which fortunately furnish us with the means of comparison: and every scene of Gorboduc is visibly marked with his characteristical manner, which consists in a perspicuity of style, and a command of numbers, superior to the tone of his times. Thomas Norton’s poetry is of a very different and a subordinate cast.” Certainly all the choruses bear such strong similarity to our author’s style and versification, as to leave no question of his well-founded claim to the entire outline of the whole performance. There cannot here be omitted: “the Order and Signification of the Domme Shew before the fourth Act. First the musick of howeboies began to playe, during which there came from under the stage, as though out of hell, three furies, Alecto, Megera, and Ctisiphone, clad in blacke garmentes sprinkled with bloud and flames, their bodies girt with snakes, their heds spred with serpentes instead of haire, the one bearing in her hand a snake, the other a whip, and the third a burning firebrand; ech driving before them a king and a queene, which moved by furies unnaturally had slaine their owne children. The names of the kings and queenes were these, Tantalus, Medea, Athamas, Ino, Cambises, Althea; after that the furies and these had passed about the stage thrise, they departed, and than the musick ceased: hereby was signified the unnaturall murders to follow, that is to say: Porrex slaine by his owne mother; and of king Gorboduc, and queen Videna, killed by their owne subjects.” This shadowing out of the plot, and the extraordinary characters to be personified in the procession, are too similar to the model upon which the Mirror for Magistrates was to have been completed, had he carried his own plan into effect, to let us doubt, without supposing the author a mannerist, that the composing the Induction and the drama were nearly coeval, and that before entering his twenty-fifth year he had entirely forsaken the Muse. This circumstance leads to an inquiry of his other poetical effusions, which are supposed to be lost, or remain undiscovered. Jasper Heywood, in a poetical address before his translation of the tragedy of Thyestes, 1560, has the following lines:

There _Sackvylde’s_ SONNETS sweetly sauste, And featly fyned bee: There _Norton’s_ DITTIES do delight, There _Yelverton’s_ do flee Well pewrde with pen: such yong men three As weene thou mightst agayne, To be begotte as Pallas was Of myghtie Jove his brayne.

Warton, in a note on the first line, remarks: “I have never seen his SONNETS, which would be a valuable accession to our old poetry. But probably the term _Sonnets_ here means only verses in general, and may signify nothing more than his part in the Mirror of Magistrates and his Gorboduc.” An oversight of the critic leaves this conjecture without any weight. The above lines were in print before either the communication was made to the Mirror for Magistrates, or the play performed. Several other writers are named by Heywood, in the same address, also their works, and those works known; the _sonnets_ of Sackville and the _ditties_ of Norton and Yelverton excepted. This circumstance may well support a belief of their having been published as well as the others: neither is there any thing improbable that the _sonnets_ and _ditties_ of “such yong men three” were united in one volume, however it has hitherto escaped all research. There is a single sonnet by our author which shall be here preserved as not an inelegant relic of his pen. It is prefixed to _The Courtier of Count Baldessar Castilio_, done into english by Sir Thomas Hoby, who died embassadour at Paris 13 July, 1566, æt. 36, and was buried at Bisham, co. Berks. This translation was printed 1561, 1577, 1588, (the last supplying the present copy,) again 1603, where the sonnet is omitted.

Thomas Sackeuyll in commendation of the worke.

To the Reader.

These royall kinges, that reare vp to the skye Their pallace tops, and deck them all with gold: With rare and curious workes they feede the eye: And shew what riches here great princes hold. A rarer worke and richer far in worth, Castilio’s hand presenteth here to thee: No proude, ne golden Court doth he set forth, But what in Court a Courtier ought to be. The prince he raiseth huge and mightie walles, Castilio frames a wight of noble fame: The king with gorgeous tissue clads his halles, The Count with golden vertue deckes the same; Whose passing skill, lo, Hobbie’s pen displaies, To Britaine folk, a work of worthy praise.

Sackville, the junior of nearly all his compeers and associates, during this short career of his Muse,[44] had also to sustain the labour and restlessness of politics. He was elected member for Westmorland, and sat in parliament the 4th and 5th of Philip and Mary. Upon the accession of Elizabeth, he represented Sussex at the time his father did Kent, and in 1562, upon the latter being chosen for Sussex, he was returned one of the members for Buckinghamshire. He early obtained the confidence of Elizabeth, (to whom he was related, as first cousin by his grand mother to Anne Boleyn), being, in his younger years, “by her particular choice and liking, selected to a continual private attendance upon her own person,” and is named in D’Ewes Journal, March 17, 1563, as conveying a message from her to the House of Commons, relative to making an “allowance for Justices Diets,” &c. About this period he visited France, Italy, and Rome, where, for some imprudency of a pecuniary nature, he was detained prisoner for fourteen days. On the death of his father he returned to England. His prodigal taste for splendour was first checked and finally stopped by the influence and admonitions of his royal relative, who, it is said, “would not know him, till he began to know himself.” On the 8th of June, 1567, he was knighted in her presence by the Duke of Norfolk, and created Baron of Buckhurst. In 1573 he was sent ambassador to France, and in the following year sat on the trial of the Earl of Arundel, being styled the Queen’s beloved and faithful counsellor. In 1586 he was nominated a commissioner on the trial of Mary Queen of Scots. In 1587 he went ambassador to the States General, but recalled by the influence of the Earl of Leicester and Lord Burleigh, and confined to his house, by the queen’s command, for nine months, when, upon the death of the Earl of Leicester, he was immediately restored to presence and favour, and on April 24, 1589, without previous intimation, made Knight of the Garter. In January 1591-2 he was elected Chancellor of the University of Oxford. On the 15th March, 1599, after the death of Lord Burleigh, he was appointed Lord High Treasurer; the patent whereof was renewed for life on the accession of King James, by whom, in 1603, he was created Earl of Dorset, and appointed one of the commissioners for executing the office of Lord Marshal. He died suddenly at the council table at Whitehall on April 19th, 1608, and being taken to Dorset house, Whitefriars, was embowelled and so much of him buried on the 20th, at Saint Bride’s Fleetstreet. Much state ceremony and solemnity followed, and after a lapse of above a month there was _A Sermon preached at Westminster May 26, 1608, at the Fvnerall Solemnities of the Right Honorable Thomas Earle of Dorset, late L. High Treasurer of England: By George Abbott Doctor of Diuinitie and Deane of Winchester one of his Lordships Chaplines_.[45] 1608. qto. It does not appear that these funeral solemnities were followed with enterment at the Abbey. No tomb exists, and by his will one thousand pounds was given for the building of a chapel at Withiam, Sussex, where his ancestors lay, directing his remains to be there deposited; which is also alluded to in the sermon. Lloyd gives him the following character: “He was a very fine gentleman of person and endowments both of art and nature. His elocution is much commended, but the excellency of his pen more; for he was a scholar and a person of quick faculties, very facete and choice in his phrase and style. He was wise and stout, nor was he any ways insnared in the factions of the Court, which were all his time very strong. He stood still in grace and was wholly intentive to the Queen’s service; and such were his abilities, that she received assiduous proofs of his sufficiency.” As early as the first year of the reign of Philip and Mary his Lordship married his kinswoman, Cecile daughter of Sir John Baker, of Sisinghurst, co. Kent, knt. who survived him, and died Oct. 1st. 1615.

[44] It has been said he wrote the Epilogue to Ben Jonson’s comedy of Every Man in his Humour, acted 1598: but was there any epilogue to the play when first performed? Charles Lord Buckhurst, sixth Earl of Dorset, supplied an epilogue on the revival of that play, which may be found with other pieces by him, in the _Miscellany Poems_, by Dryden, vol. v.

[45] Dr. Abbott had but an imperfect knowledge of the productions of his patron. In one passage he says: “His yoonger daies, the time of his scholarship when first in that famous Vniuersitie of Oxford and afterward in the Temple (where he tooke the degree of Barister) he gave tokens of such pregnancie, such studiousnesse, and iudgment, that he was held no way inferiour to any of his time or standing. And of this there remaine good tokens both in English and in Latin published vnto the world.” A marginal note explains the “good tokens” by the legend undoubtedly written by Ferrers, called “The life of Tresilian. in the Mirrour of Magistr. [and] _Epist. prefix. Aulic. Barth. Clerke_.” 1571.

[46] Francis Segar. See _Bibliographia Poetica_, p. 326.

[47] Francis Dingley was probably author as well of the Legend of James IV. as that of Flodden Field, and both composed very recently after the events they record took place. Not any discovery has been made relative to the life of the author.

[48] Thomas Churchyard, born ...... died 1604.

[49] Michael Drayton, born about 1563, died Dec. 23, 1631.

[50] Richard Niccols was the offspring of respectable parents residing in London, and born about 1584. When about twelve years of age he embarked in a vessel called the Ark, which sailed with the expedition against Cadiz in June 1596, and was present at the great and complete victory obtained both by sea and land on that occasion. Whether this voyage was the result of boyish ardour, or that he was originally intended to be actively employed for his country in either marine or military service, is not known. He appears on his return to have resumed his studies, and in 1602 was entered a student in Magdalen College, Oxford. He took the degree of bachelor of arts in 1606, and was then esteemed among the “ingenious persons of the university.” In 1610, he impliedly says, he should have continued the Mirror for Magistrates further, if his own affairs would have suffered him to proceed, but being called away by other employments, he of force left the completion to others. What designation those employments gave him for the remainder of his life, beyond that of a poet, is not known. In that character his talents would appear over-rated by Headley, who considered him “a poet of great elegance and imagination,” had not Warton, unwittingly, gone further. Niccols, on reprinting the Induction, found the rhyme too perfect, and the language too polished, to allow the attempting any of his supposed emendations; but towards the conclusion of the poem, he was bold enough to reject one stanza, and foist in four of his own composing; and it is to his credit that Warton, in analysing the whole, reprinted two of those, as the genuine production of Sackville.[51] Such a compliment cannot be exceeded. He first published _The Cuckow_, 1607, quarto, and he says, “Cuckow-like of _Castae’s_ wrongs, in rustick tunes did sing.” 2. He reprinted the _Mirror for Magistrates_, in 1610, edited in a manner that had left his volume without any value, but for the adding his own poems: viz. First _the fall of Princes_, and last _A Winter Night’s Vision_. This Vision was probably composed as long before as August 1603, as that was the last calamitous year when the plague ravaged extensively previous to its being published.[52] On that occasion our author retired for safety to Greenwich; where wandering through the walks, long-favoured by Elizabeth, the circumstance of it being her natal place, combined with her then recent death, appears to have awakened his youthful Muse to attempt this metrical history of her life. 3. His next effusion was _The Three Sisters Teares, shed at the late Solemne Funerals of the Royall deceased Henry Prince of Wales_, &c. 1613, qto. 4. _The Fvries, with Vertves Encomium, or, the Image of Honour. In two bookes of Epigrammes._ 1614. oct. 5. _Monodia, or Waltham’s Complaint vpon the death of that most_ _vertuous and noble Ladie lately deceased, the Lady Honor Hay_, &c. 1615. oct. 6. _London’s Artillery, briefly containing the noble practise of that worthie Societie_, &c. 1616, qto. For an account of this Poem, see _British Bibliographer_, Vol. I. p. 363. 7. _Sir Thomas Overbury’s Vision_, &c. 1616. Reprinted in the _Harleian Miscellany_, 1811. Vol. VII. p. 178. The author makes the ghost of Overbury, in his address to him, say,

O thou mortal wight! Whose mournful muse, but whilome, did recite Our Britain’s princes and their woeful fates In that true 'Mirrour of our Magistrates.’

[51] Compare _Hist. of Eng. Poetry_, vol. iii p. 234. with vol. ii, p. 330.

[52] See the Induction: However, according to Stowe, there was not any Lord Mayor’s Show for three years after 1605 “by reason of continuall sickness.”

[53] Hee. edit. 1575.

[54] Will you that I rehearse. ib.

[55] Of. ed. 1575.

[56] Of. ib.

[57] Which must I needs be confesse. ib.

[58] Veritie: [but for so much as the above named virtue by Plotinus his iudgement hath such excellent properties it is so fit in a Magistrate, that] I surely &c. ib.

[59] Facts estates fortunes, ib.

[60] Yet. ib.

[61] Yea and though. ib.

[62] And. ib.

[63] Those whiche were counted the wisest that ever were. ib.

[64] Yea and though. ib.

[65] Be. ib.

[66] He is not counted bolde, manly and constant but made beastly and desperate. I will also sith I haue gone so farre with the vertues (and the place so vrgeth) lastly set downe the difinition of Temperaunce, according to Cicero his opinion. Temperaunce (saith he) is of reason, &c. ib.

[67] Vertue hath three, ib.

[68] Well and wisely.

[69] An immoderate, ib.

[70] Also to. ib.

[71] Learnedly touched. ib.

[72] Other. ib.

[73] Further. [Onely I would to God it were so ofte read and regarded of all Magistrates as the matter requireth.] ib.

[74] Booke (which I am so bold to dedicate to your honors.) ib.

[75] Not in first edit.

[76] And. ed. 1575.

[77] Can do farre better, either with eloquence to amend that is amisse in mine, or else when they see these so rudely pende, to publish their own, ib.

[78] Your humble Iohn Higgins, [ed. 1575.]

[79] From edition, 1587.

[80] From first edition. This address is omitted in editions 1587 and 1610.

[81] This is principally taken from the latter part of the prefatory epistle of 1575.

[82] First printed and now given from edition 1587: also in Niccols.

[83] Higins, by correcting what he had wrote before, re-composed several passages: The first three stanzas of the Induction are thus varied in the edition of 1575.

As Somer sweete with all hir pleasures past, And leaues began to leaue both braunche and tree, While winter cold approched neere full faste, Mee thought the time to sadnes moued mee On drouping daies not half such mirth haue wee, As when the time of yeare and wether’s fayre, So moue our mindes as mocions moue the ayre.

The wearye nightes approched on apace With darksom shades which somewhat breedeth care, The Sun hath take more neere the earth his race, In Libra than his greatest swinge he bare, For pardy then the daies more colder are, Then fades the greene fruite timely, herbes are don, And wynter ginnes to waste that Sommer won,

I deemde some booke of mourning theame was beste To reade, wherwith instructions mingled so As migh[t] againe refresh my wittes oppreste, With tediousnes not driue mee quyte therfro: Wherfore I went the printer’s straight vnto, To seeke some woorke of price I surely mente That might herein my carefull mynde contente.

[84] At leength by hap, ib.

[85] Wynter, ed. 1575.

[86] Not leaue with once, ib.

[87] Tell, ib.

[88] Pleading, ib.

[89] May. ib.

[90] More cleare then any. ib.

[91] Which, ib.

[92] His. ib.

[93] Thus in first edition.

Me thinkes they might beware by others harme, And eke eschue to clammer vp so hye: Yet cursed pryde doth all their wittes becharme, They thinke of naught but prouerbes true do trie: Who hewes aloft the chips may hurte his eye: Who climes the tops of trees, wher bowes ar smal, Or hawty towres, may quickly catch a fall. This thing full well doth Phaëtons fall declare, And Icarus aloft would flie and soare: Eke Bladud once of Britayne rule that bare, Would clyme and flie, but eache did fal therfore: For Phaëton was with lightning all to tore, And Icarus the meane that did not recke, Was drownde; by fal did Bladud breake his neck. The scriptures eake of such beare witnes can; As Babilon for high presumption fell: But let me ende my tale--

[94] And past the night with labours long. ib.

[95] My. ib.

[96]

Methoughte nothing my minde from them could take, So long as Somnus suffered me to wake. ib.

[97] Then straight appeard in purple colour blacke. ib. At last appeared. N.

[98] After paynes were past. ed. 1575.

[99] I might receiue by Somnus ease at last. ib.

[100] Vnhappy princes were of yore. ib.

[101] Instead of Stanzas 13 and 14 the following are inserted in the first edit.

At length hee foorth his seruant Morpheus calde, And bad him shewe mee from the first to th’ ende, Such persones as in Britayne Fortune thralde: Which straight vpon his calling did attende, And thus hee spake with countenaunce of frende, “Come on thy wayes and thou shalt see and here, “The Britaynes and their doinges what they were.”

And as he led me through the darkes a whyle, At length wee came into a goodly hall, At th’ ende wherof there seemde a duskish Ile: Out of the which hee gan the Britaynes call, Such only as from Fortune’s hap did fall: Which when he called thryce, me seemde to heare, The doores to cracke from whence they should appeare.

And thryce I shrinkte aside and shund the sight: And three times thryce I wishte myselfe away: Eke thryce from thence there flew a flashe of light, Three times I sawe them coming make their staye: At laste they all approchte in such array, With sundrie shewes, appearing vnto mee, A straunger sighte then erste with eyes I see.

Men mighty bigge, in plaine and straunge attyre, But some with wounds and bloud were so disguisde, You scarcely could with reasons ayde aspire, To know what warre such cruell death deuisde: But sithe I haue their formes beneath comprisde, Wheras their stories seuerally I showe, Your selfe therby their cause of death may know.

[102] And eke their faces all and bodies were. ib.

[103] Make my fearful harte. ib.

[104] For my life eschewe. ib.

[105] Their, ib.

[106] For Morpheus wilde me byde and bad them tell. ib.

[107] Globe, ib.

[108] A person tall wide woundes in breste. ib.

[109] And as to speake he wiste he might be bolde. ib.

[110] Vnquoth, N.

[111] But thus. ed. 1575.

[112] Some copies of Niccols have a castration of this Induction with some trifling difference of orthography.

[113] The story of Brutus, or Brute, as here related by his son Albanact, closely versifies the principal incidents of his history given in the Chronicle of Saint Albans; an authority probably referred to by Higgins in the prefaratory address as “an olde chronicle imprinted the year 1515,” that being the date of one of the editions printed by W. de Worde.

[114] Me first of all the princes of this lande. ed. 1575.

[115] Behold mee here. N.

[116] Then shalt thou see, what tale I mynde to frame. ed. 1575.

[117] The following stanza is second in edition 1575.

So if thou liste to heare what I recite, If thou intende to showe my fatall fall: I praye thee take the paynes my tale to wryte, As I in order here repeate it shall, What nedst thou muse? thou nedst not feare at all. Syth those that later liu’de their tales haue tolde, Our elder liues to write thou mayst be bolde.

[118] Dreade, ed. 1575.

[119] Ne haue dispaire of so vncouched ryme. ib.

[120] Of. N.

[121]

Then why he flying from the Latin land Did saile the seas and found the Briton strand. N.

[122] Greeuous. ed. 1575.

[123] The following omitted stanza from ed. 1575.

Well nowe I see thou putst apart thy fright, (And giuste an eare to heare not heard before) I will declare the storie all so right, Thou shalt no whit haue neede t’inquire no more; Do marke me well what I recite therefore, And after write it and therewith my name, Let hardly me receiue if ought be blame.

[124]

And reign’de iii yeares, Ascanius then his sonne, Reignde next to him, eke Siluius was his heyre, Begate my father, of a Lady fayre. ib.

[125] Strook. N.

[126] “An arrow with a square head.” _Johnson._

[127]

But when as _Brutus_ fiftene yeares was olde, (For so they calde my father by his name) With _Siluius_ then a hunting goe he would, And thinking for to strike in chace the game, His father that by chaunce beyonde it came, Receiude the glaunce and through his tender syde, With deadly dint, the shaft did swiftly slyde. ed. 1575.

[128]

So though by chaunce my father Brutus slewe, My grandsyre _Siluius_, sore against his will: Which came by chaunce as he his arrow drewe, That thought the fearfull Harte, not him to kill: Yet was he banisht from Italia still: &c. ib.

[129] Thither. N.

[130] From death of those whose fall their. ed. 1575.

[131] My father all this. ib.

[132] Saw my father’s powre not weke. 1575.

[133] For of his brother he could finde no grace. N.

[134] Thus. 1575.

[135] All. ib.

[136] His post vnto the. ib.

[137] He. ib.

[138] Then whyle King. ib.

[139] My father with. ib.

[140] Him. ib.

[141] And tooke the brother of the Græcian King. N.

[142] My father into woods conueyde him than. ed. 1575.

[143]

And when the king had calde to mynde his foyle, His flighte, and brother by the Troianes take. ib.

[144] And Brutus had. ib.

[145] By night my father. ib.

[146] He. ib.

[147] My father. ib.

[148]

Which victorie when he had wisely won, The Trojane victour did a counsayle call, To knowe what best were with the king be don; Now tell (q’ he) what ransom aske we shall: On which when none agreed scarce of all, At length Mempricius vp from seate did ryse And silence made, gaue thus his counsayle wise. ib.

[149] Troianes. ed. 1575.

[150] The fact. ib.

[151] Which thought, as ’twas a wicked heynous acte. ib.

[152] We rather ought. ib.

[153] All do wayle. ib.

[154] Lady. ib.

[155]

And by hir wisdome, cheere and parentes loue, Doth vs, and Brutus, both to pitie moue. ib.

[156]

Yet some will saye, he should depriued bee, Of kingdome quite, and worthy Brutus should Receiue the scepter, this misliketh mee, To this vniustice, Brutus, if we could Consent, I deeme, agree he neuer would, So much himselfe ambitiously t’ abuse, Or else a king vnkindly so to vse, ib.

[157]

Our names for aye with foule defame would brand. N.

[158]

For kingdomes sake a king at home to kill Were farre to bad, within his natiue lande: Though he by right or wrong directed still, His force gainst vs, that did him so withstande: The king hath therfore ay the sworde in hand, If any kicke against his pointes of lawe: To cut them of, or keepe them vnder awe. ed. 1575.

[159]

’Tis best, O Brutus, if thou like her, take His daughter Innogen vnto thy wyfe: And let the king a dowry large hir make: Gold, syluer, shippes, and corne for our reliefe: With other thinges whereof this lande is rife: That wee so fraught may seeke some desert shore Where wee and ours may raigne for euermore. ed. 1575.

[160]

The hateful gods haue yelded mee. ib.

[161]

For feare I leese both life and goodes and landes. ib.

[162]

My father then was married by and by. ib.

[163]

The Troians proud of spoiles and victorie. N.

[164] Leogrece. ed. 1575.

[165]

Where Dian dwelt of whom the Troian crew. N.

[166] In. ib.

[167]

Wherin Diana to such credit grewe: That sacrifice the Troianes counsayle gaue, My father make, an aunswere for to haue. ed. 1575.

[168] Efilde with. ib.

[169]

In better sorte then I repeate it here. ib.

[170] Surelie. N.

[171] To reste and sleep. ed. 1575.

[172] Once. ib.

[173] Aunswere that it. ib.

[174] Affrica. ib.

[175]

From thence they sayled vnto _Saliues_ lake: Twene _Azaræ_ hilles, and _Ruscitadam_ They paste, from thence to _Maluæ_ floud they gate To _Hercules_ his pillers sight they came: And then to Tuscan seas whereas by fame, Not far from shore, like minded mates they finde, Foure banisht races of the Troian kinde. ib.

[176] Calde. ib.

[177] For. ib.

[178]

My father did so frendely vse this man, He was content and all his men besyde: To trie aduentures by my fathers guyde. ib.

[179] This Stanza not in the first edit.

[180] Then. ib.

[181] And. ib.

[182] And vitayles for their men and them atchiue. ib.

[183] By fortune on an halberde then he light. ed. 1575.

[184] My father. ib.

[185] My father’s. ib.

[186]

----voide of breath, Which pincht my fathers hart as pangs of death. ib.

[187] Cleeues. N.

[188] None. ed. 1575.

[189] But. ib.

[190]

My father had no cause but like it well And gaue his souldiers places in to dwell. ib.

[191] My father caused Britayne called bee. ib.

[192] My father. ib.

[193] Sith. ib.

[194] Whereby his stock. ed. 1575.

[195] “Brute the fyrst King of Brytons, bylded & edefyed this cyte of London, the fyrst cyte of Brytayn, in remembraunce of the cyte of Troye, that was destroyed, and called it Troyeneweth and Trinouantum, that is newe Troye.” _Trevisa’s Polychronicon._ B. 1. C. xlvii.

[196] Then eke my mother all his, &c. ed. 1575.

[197] Of children erste. ib.

[198] Three sonnes because of Innogen he gate. ib.

[199] Then. ib.

[200]

Those mightie people borne of Giants brood, That did possesse this Ocean-bounded land, They did subdue, who oft in battell stood Gainst them in field, vntill by force of hand They were made subiect vnto _Brutes_ command. Such boldnes then did in the Briton dwell, That they in deedes of valour did excell. N.

[201] Surely. N.

[202] Did cause vs feare. N.

[203]

His counsayle all and wee assembled were, To bid vs hie, or haste there was no nede, Wee went with them, this newes vs caused feare Sith so he sent, he was not well in dede, &c. ed. 1575.

[204] Speed. ib.

[205] Doulfull. ib.

[206] I. ib.

[207] You. ib.

[208] Will. ed. 1575.

[209] Record to this mine eldest, &c. ed. 1575.

[210] Twene this and that the _Stutiæ_ streame doth lie. ib.

[211] For which I nought but this remember craue. ib.

[212] Loe now. ed. 1575.

[213] And gasped thryse and gaue. ib.

[214] Then all at once with mourning voyce they cryde. ib.

[215] Teares. ib.

[216] And so. N.

[217] All with one assent. ed. 1575.

[218] Sayle. ib.

[219] This stanza follows in edit. 1575,

As custome wild wee funerals preparde, And all with mourning cloathes, and chere did come, To laye this king on beere we had regarde, In royall sort, as did his corps become, His Herce prepard, we brought him to his tombe, At _Troynouant_ he built, where he did dye, Was he entombde, his royall corps doth lye.

[220] Flits. ed. 1575.

[221] Or. ed. 1575.

[222] This fame declarde that euen a people small. ib.

[223] Had. ib.

[224] Into three parts. ib.

[225]

----did he arriue, In hope this lande of Britayne to atchiue. ed. 1575. In hope to bee the King of Britanie. N.

[226] When by report. N.

[227] Foe-men. N.

[228]

And left my men as flockes without a guide. ed. 1575. ----of deadly wounds I dide, My souldiers lost their noble prince and guide. N.

[229] To worke with princes slye. ed. 1575.

[230] By my fall beware. N.

[231]

If you repent when life and labours lost.

THE AUTHOUR.

With that the wounded Prince departed quite, From sight he slinchte, I sawe his shade no more, But Morpheus bade remember this to write, And therewithall presented mee before A wight wet dropping from the water’s shore, In princely weede, but like a warlike man, And thus mee thought his story he began.

[232] The author’s continuation, as in first edition, is given in the preceding note. Nicolls uniformly rejected these connecting lines of “the authour” as well as those of the later edition entitled “L’envoy.”

[233] Thy. 1575.

[234]

Both from their realme and right: O filthy fye On such ambition earst as vsed I. ib.

[235] Within. ed. 1575.

[236] The story of Humber is narrated according to the principal authorities. It is somewhat different in the Chronicle of St. Albans, which says: “so it befel that this Kynge Humbar was besyde a water that was a great riuer with his folke for to dysporte hym. And there came Lotrin and Camber with theyr folke sodaynly or that ony of the other hoost knew of them. And whan Humbar dyde se them come in aray he was sore adrad, for as moche as his men wyst it not a fore; and also that they were vnarmed. And a none Humbar for drede lept in to y^e water and drowned hymselfe, and so he deyed. And his men were all slayne in so moche that there escaped not one away on lyue. And therefore is that water called Humbar and euer more shall be, whyle the worlde is world.”

[237] THE AUTHOURE.

Then vanishte Humber, and no sooner gon Was he but straight in place before me came, A princely wight had complet harnesse on, Though not so complet as they now do frame: He seemde sometime t’aue bene of worthy fame, In breste a shafte with bleeding wounde he bare, And thus be told the cause of all his care. ed. 1575.

[238] A line as vigorous and musical as Dryden.

[239] My haplesse deeds of yore, the same may I. N.

[240] But I. ed. 1575.

[241] Ill. ib.

[242] Force. ib.

[243] And. ib.

[244] So. ed. 1575.

[245] His. ib.

[246] Lovely. N.

[247] No Lady went on earthely grounde. ed. 1575.

[248] Euer chaunge my minde. ib.

[249] Where he declar’d what promise I did make. N.

[250] Never. 1575.

[251] “The singuler great loue and affection that he bare vnto the saide Eastrilde coued not yet out of his minde and be forgotten, wherfore he made a Caue vnder the ground in the Citie of Troynouant and enclosed her therein--insomuch as he had the companie of her the space of vij yeres full, aud none knewe it, but a fewe of his verie familyer and faythfull friendes.” _Grafton._

[252] Likewise my Elstride I as Queene ordain’d. N.

[253] Rais’d. N.

[254] Or. 1575.

[255] For. N.

[256] Stura stream. 1575.

[257] Fabian varies from the other chronicles by stating the death of Locrine as in the life time of Gwendoline’s father; as she “beynge sore discontent, excyted her Fader and frendes to make warre vpon the sayd Lotryne her husbande. In the which warre, lastly, he was slayne when he reygned or ruled Loegria, or Logiers, after the concordaunce of moste wryters XX yers; And was buryed by his Fader in the cytie of Troynouant.” This might be the authority of our author for relating his burial at Troynouant as the stanza appears in the first edition.

Then was I brought to Troynouant, and there My body was enterrid as you reade: When I had raigned all out twenty yere: Lo thus I liude and thus became I deade: Thus was my crowne depriued from my heade, And all my pompe, my princely troupe and trayne, And I to earth and duste resolude againe. (1575.)

[258] Now warne estates, ib.

[259] No false deceit deceiues. N.

[260] Edition 1575 has only seven lines in this stanza: it concludes thus

For though ye colour all, with coate of right: Yet can no fained farde deceiue his sight.

THE AUTHOUR.

With that this king was vanisht quite and gone, And as a miste dissolued into ayre: And I was left with Morpheus all alone, Who represented straight a Lady faire, Of frendes depriude and left in deepe dispaire: As eke she spake, all wet in cordes fast bounde, Thus tolde she how she was in waters drounde.

[261] Woman. ed. 1575.

[262] The first saue three amongst vs all. ib.

[263] “Eastrildis so farre excelled in bewtie, that none was then lightly found vnto her comparable, for her skin was so whyte that scarcely the fynest kind of Iuorie that might be found, nor the snowe lately fallen downe from the Elament, or the Lylles did passe the same.” _Grafton._

[264] Was. 1575.

[265] Or. ed. 1575.

[266] For. ib.

[267] Night. N.

[268] T’whom. N.

[269] Manhode. ed. 1575.

[270] Or let me on thy Queene be wayting mayde. ib.

[271] Thou. ed. 1575. You. N.

[272] Omitted stanza from ed. 1575.

As for my Queene as yet I none possesse, Therefore thou rather maiste voutchsafe to take That place thy selfe, then waite on her I gesse, Whose beautie with thy face no match can make: The Gods denye that I thy heste forsake; I saue thy life, eke God forbid that I Should euer cause so fayre a Ladie die.

[273] In. ed. 1575.

[274] Mine armes and giue me libertie at will. N.

[275] With whom such fauour I did after find. N.

[276] Have. ib.

[277] Sayd. ib.

[278] Constraineth one mine Elstride to imbrace. N.

[279] So, in both.

[280] Yet faithlesse in his promise he did proue. N.

[281] _i. e._ sorrow.

[282] Attainde. ed. 1575.

[283] Not be Locrinus wife. ed. 1575.

[284] Radge. ib.

[285] Parents. ib.

[286] Woman. ib.

[287] Ladye fayre. ib.

[288] This. ed. 1575.

[289] Tygres. ib.

[290] Day. N.

[291] What strumpet, think’st, for that thou seemest braue. N.

[292] Seeme. N.

[293]

Ne stoode she still but with hir handes on syde Walkte vp and down, and oft hir palmes she stroke; “My husband now (quoth she) had not thus dyde, “If such an harlot whore he had not tooke:” And there withall she gaue me such a looke As made me quake. ed. 1575.

[294] Thee. ib.

[295] Take. ib.

[296] Wyse. ed. 1575.

[297] Then Elstride now prepare thy selfe therfore. ed. 1575.

[298] And friends. N.

[299] The. 1575.

[300] Striving, ed. 1575.

[301] A Prince’s wife. N.

[302] Myne. ed. 1675.

[303]

Then warne all Ladies that howe much more hie Then their degrees they clime, mo daungers nye.

ed. 1575.

[304] Flattery refuse. N.

[305] Turning, ed. 1575.

[306] Then bid beware. ib.

[307] THE AUTHOURE.

With that she flitted in the ayre abrode, As twere a miste or smooke dissolued quite, And or I long on this had made abode, A virgine smale, appearde before my sight, For colde and wet eke scarsly moue she might. As from the waters drownd didering came, Thus wise hir tale in order did she frame.

ed. 1575.

[308] Many of the incidents of the preceding lives are united to form the plot of “the lamentable Tragedie of Locrine, the eldest son of King Brutus, discoursinge the warres of the Britaines,” entered in the Stationers Books 1594. The first act shows Brutus sick, making the division of the kingdom among his sons Albanact, Humber, and Locrine. The succeeding acts exhibit their wars on each other, and in the last is that created by Guendoline against Locrine, concluding with his death and those of his concubine and daughter the Lady Sabrine. See Malone’s Supplement, Vol II. p. 189. There is also “an old ballad of a duke of Cornwall’s daughter,” (Guendoline) inserted in Evans’s Ballads, 1784, Vol. I. The respective writers appear to have consulted the Mirror for Magistrates. In the persons represented in the play the author has chosen to deviate from all chronicle history by making “Madan, _daughter_ of Locrine and Guendolen.”

[309] Tis wisedome rather then to winne to saue. ed. 1575.

[310] Elstride or Astrilde, is described by Robert of Gloucester as the stern Guendoline’s “bed suster, hire lordis concubine.”

[311] Flye, flye, thy gelous stepdame seekes thy life. ed. 1575.

[312] Eke. N.

[313] Farewell in woe you cannot scape hir knife. ed. 1575.

[314] Thryse. ib.

[315] Little, ed. 1575.

[316] Sclender. ib.

[317] An omitted stanza from ed. 1575.

Thus throughe the hoste he bare me to my bane, And shewde the Souldiours what a spoyle he had: “Loke here (quoth he) the litle Princes tane.” And laught, and ran as brutish butcher mad; But my lamenting made the souldiours sad, Yet nought preuailde, the caytife as his pray Without all pitie bare me still away.

[318] Till. ed. 1575.

[319] Some saide lo Elstride shee resembleth right. ib.

[320] Some. ib.

[321] Some said the thiefe. ib.

[322] And. ib.

[323] Nought. ib.

[324]

“O Queene (quoth I) God knowes me innocent, To worke my father’s death I neuer ment.” ed. 1575.

[325] Take. ib.

[326]

This Sabrine hand and foote; at once let see Her here receyue. ed. 1575.

[327] Which. ib.

[328] Guendoline “made a proclamation throughout all the whole realme of Briteyn that the same water should be euermore called Habren, after the maydens name, for so euen at this day is Seuerne called in the Welsh tongue. And this did she as one desirous to make thereby the name of the yong mayden immortall, because she was her housband’s daughter.” _Grafton._

[329] By this. ed. 1575.

[330] Hence. ib.

[331] Here may you see, the children seldome thee. ib.

[332] Farewell, and tell when Fortune most doth smile. ib.

[333] THE AUTHOUR.

With that the Lady Sabrine slinckt from sight, I lookt about and then me thought againe Approched straight another wofull wight: It seemde as though with dogs he had bin slaine; The bloud from all his members torne amaine Ran downe: his clothes were also torne and rente, And from his bloudy throte these plaintes he sente. ed. 1575.

[334] That. ed. 1575.

[335] Was. ib.

[336]

Durst none aduenture anger mine t’ aswage If once to freate and fume I did begin; And I excelde in nothing els but sinne, So that wel nighe all men did wishe my ende. ed. 1575.

[337] And. N.

[338] In pleasures pleasaunt was my whole repaste, ed. 1575.

[339] This seems a provincial word, as crome is used in Norfolk for a hook. See _Grose’s Glossary_.

[340] Syrtes, a quicksand or bog. _Johnson._

[341] Neuer, ed. 1575.

[342] Vast. N.

[343] The conclusion of this life, from stanza 11, is thus varied in ed. 1575.

Alas that youth (in vayne) so vyly spent, Should euer cause a king to haue such ende: Alas that euer I should here lament, Or else should teache vnto my cost my frende: Alas that fortune such mishap should sende: But sithe it is to late for me to crie, I wishe that others may take hede herebye.

I might full well by wisdome shund this snare, Tis sayde a wiseman all mishap withstandes. For though by starres we borne to mischieues are: Yet prudence bayles vs quite, from carefull bandes, Eche man (they say) his fate hath in his handes, And what he makes, or marres to lese, or saue Of good, or euill, is euen selfe do selfe haue.

As here thou seest by me, that led my dayes In vicious sorte, for greedy wolues a praye: Warne others wysely, than to guide their wayes By mine example, wel eschue they may, Such vices as may worke their own decay: Which if they do, full well is spent the time To warne, to wryte, and eke to reade this rime.

THE AUTHOUR.

When this was said, no more was Madan seene, (If it were he) but sure I half suspecte It was some other else, so seru’de had bene, For that all stories do not so detecte His death, or else I did perhaps neglecte His tale, bicause that diuers stories brought, Such fancies of his death into my thought.

Therefore although it be not as some write Here pende by me, and yet as others haue: Let it not greeue thee reade that I recite, And take what counsaile of good life he gaue: I trust I may (that dreame) some pardon craue, For if the reste, no dreames but stories pen: Can I for that they wryte be blamed then?

No sure, I thinke the readers will not giue Such captious dome, as Momus erste did vse, Though Zoilus impes as yet do carping liue: And all good willing writers much misuse. Occasion biddes me some such beastes accuse, Yet for their bawling hurtes me not I nill: But with my purpose, on procede I will.

Next after that, came one in princely raye A worthy wight but yonge, yet felt the fall: It seemde he had bene at some warlike fraye, His breste was woundid wide and bloudy all: And as to mynde he musde his factes to call, Depe sighes he fet, made all his limmes to shake: At length these wordes, or like to me he spake.

[344] Madan had reigned forty years. Fabian says there is “lytell or no memory made (of him) by any wryters.” As a strict conservator of laws and for “great sapience,” he is briefly eulogised by Harding.

[345] We. ed. 1575.

[346] We neuer could our great, ib.

[347] We. ib.

[348] Our. ib.

[349] We. ib.

[350] Our. ib.

[351] We. ib.

[352] But O we thinke. ib.

[353] We. ib.

[354] Vppon this earth is all the greatest hap. N.

[355] We. ed. 1575.

[356] We. ib.

[357] We. ed. 1575.

[358] We. ib.

[359] And by me. ib.

[360] We. ib.

[361] Manlius, ib.

[362]

Who thinkes an other of his right beguyle, Himselfe is soonest cleane bereaude of all. ib.

[363] My elder brother, ib. The authority for making this variation was probably Harding, to whose work Higgins may refer as “an old chronicle in a kind of English verse.” (See p. 7.) Harding says, “the yonger Memprise slewe his brother Maulyne, elder of age.” The other writers seem uniform in describing Mempricius as the elder.

[364] Did euer square, ib.

[365] Lou’d me well. ed. 1575.

[366] My brother feared I should haue his right. ib.

[367] I me bore. ib.

[368] I for because I might obtaine the crowne. ib.

[369] Fauoure. ib.

[370] Our. ib.

[371] And I could not from mine. ib.

[372] An additional stanza occurs here in the first edition.

See here, th’ occasion of my haplesse happe, See here his chaunce that might haue liu’de ful wel: So baited swete is euery deadly trappe; In brauiste bowres doth deepest daunger dwell. I thought mine elder from his right t’expell, Though he both age and custome forth did bring For title right: I sayd, I would be King.

[373] Instead of the tenth stanza the following are in the first edition.

Wherefore as eache did watch conuenient time, For to commit this haynous bloudy facte; My selfe was taken not accusde of crime, As if I had offendid any acte, But he as one that witte and reason lackte, Sayde traytour vile thou art to me vntrue; And therwithall his bloudy blade he drewe.

Not like a king but like a cut throte fell; Not like a brother, like a butcher brute; Though twere no worse then I deserued well, He gaue no time to reason or dispute: To late it was to make for life my suite, “Take traytoure here (quoth he) thy whole deserte,” And therwithall he thrust me to the harte.

[374] Chosen. N.

[375] “Lastly by medyacions of frends a day of communycacion in louynge maner attwene these ii bretherne was appoynted, at which day of assemble Mempricius by treason slewe his brother Manlius.” _Fabyan._

[376] Brutishe.

[377] Which likewyse went my brother for to kill. ib.

[378] Which do inuente anothers bloud to spill. ib.

[379]

Vsurping wrong incurres the curse of heauen, And blood cries out for vengeance at his hand, Who still in care of humane good is giuen. N.

[380] A step aboue their owne degree. ed. 1575.

[381] I think she. ib.

[382] THE AUTHOURE.

When Manlius had thus endid quite his tale, He vanishte out of sight as did the reste; And I perceiued straight a persone pale, Whose throte was torne and blodied all his breste: “Shall I” (quoth he) “for audience make requeste, No sure it nedes not, straunge it semes to thee, What he that beares this rentid corps should bee.

“Wherefore I deeme thou canst not chuse but bide, And here my tale as others erste before; Sith by so straunge a meanes thou seest I dyde, With rentid throte and breste, thou musist more; Marke well (quoth he) my ratling voyce therefore:” And therwithall this tale he gan to tell, Which I recite, though nothing nere so well. ed. 1575.

[383] In the first edition always called Manlius.

[384] But he that myndes for rule. ed. 1575.

[385] For empire as I did. N.

[386] Must not. ed. 1575.

[387] His impious hands. N.

[388] Is. ed. 1575.

[389] Lookist for to haue. ib.

[390] Wherefore to giue example yet to som. ib.

[391] But sith I must as others tell their fall. ed. 1575.

[392] Eldest. ib.

[393] I deemde was nought vnlawfull. ib.

[394] For. ib.

[395] I was deuoid of doubt. N.

[396] After attaining the crown he “became so lyther a man, that he destroyed within a whyle all the men of his londe.” _Chr. of St. Albans._

[397] So ofter that I felle. ed. 1575.

[398] Lothsome. ed. 1575.

[399] I will declare whence. ib.

[400] Alas I fell. ib.

[401] Might any ill exceed. ib.

[402] Heedes. ed. 1575.

[403] Fainted. ib.

[404] Tender, ed. 1575.

[405] By sudden death, pockes, begging. N.

[406] THE AUTHOUR.

On this me thought he vanisht quite away, And I was left with Morpheus all alone: Whom I desirde these gryzely ghostes to stay, Till I had space to heare them one by one. And euen with that was Somnus seruaunt gone, Whereby I slept and toke mine ease that night, And in the morning rose their tale to wrighte.

Nowe (Reader) if you thinke I miste my marke, In any thing whilere but stories tolde: You must consider that a simple clarke, Hath not such skill theffect of things t’vnfolde, But may with ease of wiser be controlde: Eke who so writes as much the like as this, May hap be deemde likewyse as much to misse.

Wherefore if these may not content your minde As eche man cannot fauour all mens vaines: I pray you yet let me this frendship finde, Giue your good will, I craue nought els for paines. Which if you grutch me, as to great a gaines: Then is my loue to you, and labour lost, And you may learne take heede, with greater cost.

But now me thinkes I heare the carpers tell, Saith one, the writer wanted wordes to fill: The next reprou’d the verse not couched well: The third declares, where lackte a point of skill: Some others say they like the meeter ill: But what of this? shall these dismay mee quite? No sure, I will not cease for such to write.

For with more ease, in other workes they finde A fault, then take vpon them selues to pen So much, and eke content eche readers minde: How should my verse craue all their likings then? Sith sondry are the sects of diuers men, I must endeuour only those to please: Which like that comes, so it be for their ease.

The rest I recke as they blame worthy bee, For if the words I wrote for good intent: Take other sence then they receiu’de of mee, Be turnde to worse, torne, reached, rackt, or rent Or hackt and hewde, not constret as I ment: The blame is theirs, which with my workes so mell: Lesse faulty he, that wisht his country well.

If some be pleasde and easde, I lease no toyle, At carpers gyrdle hanges not all the keyes: What price gaines he, that giues him fall or foyle, Which neuer wan by wrastling any prayse, I haue not spent in poetrye my dayes, Some other workes in proase I printed haue: And more I write for which I leysure saue.

And for mine age not thirty yeares hath past, No style so rype can yonger yeares attaine. For of them all, but only ten the last, To learne the tongues, and write I toke the paine, If I thereby receiued any gaine, By Frenche or Latine chiefely which I chose, These fiue yeares past by writing I disclose.

Of which, the first two yeares I Grammer taught: The other twaine, I Hulœts worke enlargde: The last translated Aldus phrases fraught With eloquence, and toke of Terence charge At Printers hande, to adde the flowers at large Which wanted there, in Vdalles worke before! And wrote this booke with other diuers more.

Then pardon whats amisse, a while giue eare, So shall you heare the rest that I recite, Describing next what Princes did appeare: When I had ended these are past to wrighte. In slomber as I chaunst to lye one night, Was Somnus prest, whom I desyrde to sende His Morpheus ayde, these Tragedies to ende.

Wherewith he graunted my request and calde For Morpheus straight: which knew wherto he came I will (quoth he) the rest, whom Fortune thralde Of Britaynes shewe: thy selfe to heare them frame. And therewithall he set forth one like Fame. In fethers all with winges so finely dight, As twere a birde, in humaine shape of flight.

Yet twas not Fame that femme of painted plume, He rather seemed Icarus deceau’de, With winges to flye nighe Phœbus did presume. At length in deede I plainly well perceau’de, It was some king of vitall breath bereaude, From flight he fell presuming farre to hye: Giue eare take heede and learne not so to flye.

ed. 1575.

[407] “Mempricius the _fyrst_ king of Brytons regned X yere.” _Polychronicon._

[408] Bladud is represented as a prince eager in the pursuit of learning, and of unusual mental acquirements. Having travelled to Athens he had sufficient address to obtain a visit to his native land of four of the most eminent scholars, or philosophers; for whom he founded an University at Stamford with many liberal endowments, and which flourished until the time of St. Augustine, who got the same suppressed on a presumption of heresy among the scholars, He also reputedly discovered the medicinal virtues of the hot-baths at Bath, a circumstance alone sufficient in that remote age to add a fabulous portion in the emblazonment of his character, and a belief, as the Chronicle of St. Albans hath it, that “thrugh his craft of nygromancy he made a meruaylous hote bathe, as the geste telleth.” This same “geste” seems the foundation of the tale in all the Chronicles, which, though often repeated, was early disbelieved. It is best descanted on by the enlightened Treuisa in the Polychronicon. “Bladud, Leyles sone, a nygromancer was the IX kyng of Brytons, he buylded Bathe and called it Caerbadum. Englysshmen called it after Athamannes cyte, but atte last men called it Bathonia that is Bathe.--W[illelmus Malmel.] de pontificum. li. ii. In this cyte welleth vp and spryngeth hote bathes and men wene that Julius Cezar made there suche bathes.--R[anulphus of Chestre]. But Ganfr. Monemutensis in his Brytons book sayth that Bladud made thylkes Bathes: by cause that William [of Malm.] had not seen that brytons book, wrote so, by telling of other men, or by his owne ghessing; as he wrote other thynges, not best aduisedly. Therfore it semeth more sothly that Bladud made not the hote bathes, ne Julius Cezar dyde suche a deede, though Bladud buylded and made the cyte. But it acordeth better to kendly reason that the water renneth in the erthe by veynes of brymstone and sulphure and so is kendely made hote in that cours and spryngeth vp in dyuerse places of the cyte. And so there ben hote bathes that washeth of tetres, soores and skabbes.--Treuisa. Though men myght by crafte make hoote bathes for to dure longe ynough this acordeth well to reason and phylosophye and treateth of hoote welles and bathes that ben in dyuerse londes, though the water of this bathe be more troubly, and heuyer of sauour and of smelle than other hote bathes ben that I haue seen at Akon in Almayne and at Egges in Sauoye, whiche ben as fayre and clere as ony colde welle streme. I haue ben bathed therin and assayed them.”

Higgins, in his account of the learning of Bladud, has closely copied Bale, whose character was then generally known through the medium of Grafton’s chronicle. Perhaps to form the measure on a general model this life was re-written, being first composed in quatrains. It stands thus in the first edition.

_Bladud recyteth haw he practyzing by curious artes to flye, fell and brake his necke. The yeare before Christe 844._

Shall I rehearse, likewyse my name? And eke a place amongst them fill, Which at their endes to mischiefe came? Sith Morpheus bids me so, I will.

And that because I see thee minde, To write my storie fate and fall, Such curious heads it reade and finde: May flee to flye, and shunne my thrall.

If daunger teach them liue take heede: If leesers harme, make lookers wyse: If warines do safetie breede, Or wracke make saylers shelues dispise

Then may my hurt giue sample sure: My losse of life may lokers learne: My warning may beware procure, To such as daunger scarce discerne.

I am that Bladud Britaine king. Rudhudebras his eldest sonne, Did learning first to England bring: And other wonders more were done.

Now giue me eare, and after wryte: Marke well my life, example take: Eschue the euill that I recite, And of my death a myrour make.

In youth I gaue my minde to lore, For I in learning tooke repaste: No earthly pleasure likte me more, I went to Athens at the last.

A towne in Greece, whose fame went foorth Through all the world hir name was spred: I counted knowledge so much woorth, Hir only loue to Greece me led.

There first of all the artes of seuen, Wherein before I had small skill: I Grammer gate declares the steuen, By rule to speake, and wryte at will.

Next after that in Rhetorike fine, Which teacheth how he talke to fyle: I gate some knowledge in short time, And coulde perswade within a whyle.

I thirdly learned Logicke well, An arte that teacheth to dispute: To aunswere wisely or refell, Distinguishe, proue, disproue, confute.

Then after that, of number, I The skilfull arte likewyse attainde: Wherin of Mathematickes lie, Full many pointes I after gainde.

And Musicke milde I lernde, that telles Tune, tyme, and measure of the song: A science swete the reste excelles, For melody hir notes among.

But sixtly I the dame of artes, Geometrie of great engine Employde, with all hir skilfull partes, Therby some greater giftes to winne.

So laste I lernde Astronomie, A lofty arte that paste them all: To knowe by motions of the skye, And fixed starres, what chaunce might fall.

This pleasaunt arte allured me, To many fonde inuentions then: For iudgements of Astrologie, Delites the mindes of wisest men.

So doth the arte Phisiognomie, Dependes on iudgment of the face: And that of Metoposcopie, Which of the forehead telles the grace.

And Chiromancie by the hande, Coniecures of the inward minde: Eke Geomancie by the lande, Doth diuers many farlies finde.

Augurium eke was vsde of olde By byrdes of future things presagde: And many thinges therby they tolde, Were skilfull, learned, wyse and agde.

But Magicke, for it seemid sweete, And full of wonders made me muse: For many feates I thought it meete, And pleasaunt for a Prince to vse.

Three kindes there are for nature’s skill, The first they Naturall do name: In which by herbes and stones they will, Worke wonders thinges, are worthy fame.

The next is Mathematicall, Where Magike workes by nature so: That brasen heads make speake it shall, Of woode birdes, bodies flye, and go.

The thirde Veneficall by right, Is named for by it they make: The shapes of bodies chaunge in sight, And other formes on them to take.

What nede I tell what Theurgie is, Or Necromancie you despise: A diuelishe arte, the feendes by this Seeme calde, and coniurde to arise.

Of these too much I learned then, By those such secrete artes profest: For of the wise and skilfull men, Whome Fame had praisde I gate the best.

They promist for to teach me so, The secretes of dame nature’s skill: That I nede neuer taste of woe, But alwayes might forsee it still.

Wherfore enflamed with their loue, I brought away the best I could: From Greece to Britayne lande to proue, What feates for me deuise they would.

Of which were foure Philosophers, For passing skill excelde the rest: Phisitions and Astronomers, In Athens all they were the best.

My father harde of my retourne, Of my successe in learning there: And how the Grecians did adourne, My wittes with artes that worthy were.

He herde likewyse what store I brought, Of learned Greekes from Atticke soyle: And of my laboure learning sought, With study, trauayle, payne and toyle.

I likewyse heard he buylded here, Three townes while absent thence was I: By South he foundid Winchester, By East he built Cantorbury.

By West full highe he built the last, On hill from waters deepe belowe: Calde Shaftesbury on rockes full fast, It standes and giue to Seas a showe.

These causde we both might well reioyce He for because I gate such fame: And I, for that by all mennes voyce, His factes deseru’de immortall name.

What nedes much talke, the peres and all The commons eke with one assent: Extold my name especiall, Which had my youth in learning spent.

I was receau’de with triumphes great, With pageauntes in eache towne I past: And at the court my princely seate, Was by my fathers ioyned fast.

The nobles then desir’de to haue, On me their children wayte and tende: And royall giftes with them me gaue, As might their powres therto extende.

But here began my cause of care, As all delightes at length haue ende: Be mixte with woes our pleasures are, Amidste my ioyes, I lost a frende.

My father, nyne and twenty yeares, This time had raignde and held the crowne: As by your Chronicles appeares, Whan fates, on vs began to frowne.

For euen amidste his most of ioye, As youth, and strength and honours fade: Sore sickenes did him long anoye, At laste, of life an ende it made.

Then was I chose king of this lande, And had the crowne as had the rest: I bare the scepter in my hande, And sworde that all our foes opprest.

Eke for because the Greekes did vse, Me well in Grece at Athens late: I bad those foure I brought to chuse: A place that I might dedicate

To all the Muses and their artes, To learnings vse for euermore: Which when they sought in diuers partes, At last they found a place therfore.

Amidst the realme it lies welnighe, As they by art and skill did proue: An healthfull place not lowe nor highe, An holsome soyle for their behoue.

With water streames, and springs for welles: And medowes sweete, and valeyes grene: And woods, groaues, quarries, al thing else For studentes weale, or pleasure bene.

When they reported this to me, They prayde my grace that I would builde, Them there an Vniuersitie, The fruites of learning for to yelde.

I buylte the scholes, like Attikes then, And gaue them landes to maintayne those: Which were accounted learned men, And could the groundes of artes disclose.

The towne is called Stamford yet, There stande the walles vntill this daye: Foundations eke of scholes I set, Bide yet (not maintainde) in decaye.

Whereby the lande receauid store, Of learned clarkes long after that: But nowe giue eare I tell thee more, And then my fall, and great mishap.

Because that time Apollo was, Surmisde the God that gaue vs wit: I builte his temple braue did passe, At Troynouant the place is yet.

Some saye I made the batthes at Bathe: And made therefore two tunnes of brasse: And other twayne seuen saltes that haue In them, but these be made of glasse

With sulphur filde, and other things, Wylde fire, saltgem, salte peter eke: Salte armoniake, salte Alchime, Salte commune, and salte Arabecke.

Salte niter mixid with the rest, In these fowre tunnes by portions right: Fowre welles to laye them in were dreste, Wherin they boyle both daye and night.

The water springes them round about, Doth ryse for aye and boyleth stil: The tunnes within and eke without, Do all the welles with vapours fill.

So that the heate and clensing powre, Of Sulphur and of salts and fyre: Doth make the bathes eche pointed houre To helpe the sickly health desyre.

These bathes to soften sinewes haue Great vertue and to scoure the skin: From Morphew white and black to saue, The bodies faint are bathde therein.

For lepry, scabs, and sores are olde, For scurfes, and botch, and humors fall: The bathes haue vertues manyfolde, If God giue grace to cure them all.

The ioyntes are swelde, and hardned milte: And hardned liuer, palseis paine, The poxe and itche, if worke thou wilt, By helpe of God it heales againe.

Shall I renege I made them then? Shall I denye my cunning founde? By helpe I had of learned men, Those worthy welles in gratefull grounde?

I will do so: for God gaue grace, Whereby I knew what nature wrought: And lent me lore to finde the place, By wisedome where those wells I sought.

Which once confest lo here my harme, Eschewe the like if thou be wyse: Let neuer will thy wits becharme, Or make the chaunge of kinde deuise.

For if the fishe would learne to goe, And leaue to swim against his vre: When he were quite the waters fro, He could not swim you may be sure.

Or if the beast would learne to flie, That had no plumes by nature lent: And get him wynges as earst did I, Would not thinke you it him repent?

Though Magike Mathematicall, Make wooden birdes to flye and soare: Eke brasen heads that speake they shall, And promise many marueiles more.

Yet sith it swarues from Nature’s will, As much as these that I recite: Refuse the fondnes of such skill, Doth ay with death the proufe requite.

I deemde I could more soner frame, My selfe to flye then birdes of wood: And ment to get eternall fame, Which I esteemde the greatest good.

I deckt my selfe with plumes and wynges, As here thou seest in skilfull wise: And many equall poysing thinges To ayde my flight, to fall or rise.

Thou thinkste an arte that seldome vsde, In hand I tooke, and so it was: But we no daunger then refusde, So we might bring our feates to passe.

By practise at the length I could, Gainst store of wynde with ease arise: And then which way to light I should, And mount, and turne I did deuise.

Which learned but not perfectly, Before I had therof the sleight: I flew aloft but downe fell I, For want of skill againe to light.

Upon the temple earst I built, To God Apollo, downe I fell: In fiters broisde for such a guilt, A iust reuenge requited well.

For what should I presume so highe, Against the course of nature quite To take me wynges and saye to flye, A foole no fowle in fethers dight.

As learning founds and cunning finds, To such haue wit the same to vse: So she confounds, and marres the minds, Of those her secrets seeme t’abuse.

Well then deserts requirde my fall, Presumption proude, depriu’de my breath: Renowne bereft my life and all, Desire of prayse, procurde my death:

Do let allureing arts alone, They pleasaunt seeme yet are they vayne: Amongst an hundreth scarce is one, Doth ought thereby but labour gayne.

Their cunning castes are crafty cares, Deuices vayne deuisde by men: Such witched wiles are Sathans snares, To traine in fooles, despise them then.

Their wisdome is but wily wit, Their sagenes is but subtiltie: Darke dreames deuisde for fooles are fit, And such as practise pampestry.

Thou seest my fall and eke the cause, Vnwisely I good giftes abusde: Lo here the hurt of learned lawes, If they be wrested or misusde.

Then wryte my story with the rest, May pleasure when it comes to vewe: Take heede of counsayles all is best, Beware, take heede farewell adieu.

Farewell, will students keepe in minde, οὐκ αρετᾳ κακὰ ἔργα: Els may they chaunce like fate to finde, For why, Τοῖς κακοῖς τρὶς κακα.

Τελος.

[409] Sleek. _Jamieson._

[410]

The noble higher climes and to the skies T’advance his name he daily doth deuise. N.

[411] That noble arts in Britain might be taught. N.

[412] Receiu’d both crowne. N.

[413] With right and equitie to rule this land. N.

[414]

Giuing to each such peace as best did fit Their birth, their wealth, their persons and their wit. N.

[415]

And of my land I gaue the fertil’st partes, To foster learning and the famous artes. N.

[416] We did in noble science so excell. N.

[417]

--------commending vs to skies, Deeming vs people valiant, learn’d and wise. N.

[418] Niccols to improve the measure made several omissions in the text which are distinguished by inverted brackets.

[419] To deeme as Gods the images of men. N.

[420] By arts I made. N.

[421]

These Tunnes I did essay To place by arte that they might last of aye. N.

[422] Both. N.

[423] Hard it healeth well. N.

[424] Whence ye haue helpe. N.

[425] Springs vertue take of vaines that they been in. N.

[426]

Fountaines hot and cold, To heale by them the sicke, both yong and old. N.

[427]

Extols vs to the skies, We look not downe from whence we first did rise. N.

[428]

Ambition will not wisdome’s counsell brooke, Pride sets her thoughts on things that vade away, Forsaken vertue which doth nere decay. N.

[429] We might admire what monsters time did hatch. N.

[430] Surpasse in his degree. N.

[431] As all the rest in wisdome weaker bee. N.

[432] Magicke arte. N.

[433] Which in the end did proue my future ill. N.

[434] Few men did euer vse like enterprise. N.

[435] And turne and winde at last which way I would. N.

[436] And in the fall I lost. N.

[437] This was my race, this was my fatall fall. N.

[438] In their effects they are. N.

[439]

Be wise in artes exceed not wisdome’s bound, The depth of arte by wit may not be found. N.

[440] That nothing haue yet promise all to you. N.

[441]

All which by nature are abhor’d as euill, Practisde by fooles, inuented by the diuell. N.

[442]

----Beware of climing high, Lest that you helpelesse fall, as erst did I. N.

THE AUTHOUR.

When Bladud thus had ended quite his tale, And tolde his life as you haue heard before: He toke his flight, and then a Lady pale Appeard in sight, beraide with bloudy gore: In hande a knife of sanguine dye she bore: And in her breste a wounde was pearced wyde, So freshly bledde, as if but than she dyde.

She staide a while, her coulour came and went, And doubtful was that would haue tolde hir paine: In wofull sort she seemed to lament, And could not wel her tongue from talke refraine. For why her griefes vnfolde she would right faine, Yet bashfull was: at length an ende to make, Hir Morpheus wild, and then thus wyse she spake.

[443] Cannot still keepe in my counsaile. ed. 1575.

[444] And shew mishaps. ib.

[445] That. ed. 1575.

[446] May keep. ib.

[447] And willing be to flye. ib.

[448] For sith I see thee prest to heare that wilt recorde. ib.

[449] What I Cordila tell. ib.

[450] To thee that giu’st an eare to heare and ready art. ib.

[451] Practisde for to flye and soare. ib.

[452] Who dead his sonne my father. ib.

[453] He had three daughters faire the first hight Gonerell. N.

[454] My sister Ragan. ed. 1575.

[455] And of vs all our father deire in age did dote. ib.

[456] So. ib.

[457] To giue where. ed. 1575.

[458] Had more age. ib.

[459] My prayse t’asswage. ib.

[460] Gainst. ib.

[461] But still. ib.

[462] This stanza follows in the edit. 1575.

Yet nathelesse my father did me not mislike, But age so simple is and easy to subdue, As childhode weake thats voide of wit and reason quite; They thinke thers nought you flatter fainde, but all is true, Once old and twyse a childe tis said with you, Which I affirme by proofe that was definde, In age my father had a childishe minde.

[463] He thought to wed vs vnto nobles three, or peres. ib.

[464] Sent. ib.

[465]

I must assaye and eke your frendships proue. Now tell me eche how much you do me loue.

ib.

[466] Lou’de him well and more. ib.

[467] Would agayne therefore. ib.

[468]

But not content with this he minded me to proue, For why he wonted was to loue me wonders wel: How much dost thou (quoth he) Cordile thy father loue I wil (sayd I) at once my loue declare and tell: I lou’de you euer as my father well, No otherwyse, if more to know you craue: We loue you chiefly for the goodes you haue.

Thus much I said, the more their flattery to detect But he me aunswered therunto again with ire, Because thou dost thy fathers aged yeare neglect. That lou’de the more of late then thy deserts require, Thou neuer shalt, to any part aspire Of this my realme, emong thy sisters twayne, But euer shalt vndotid ay remayne.

Then to the king of Albany for wife he gaue My sister Gonerell, the eldest of vs all: And eke my sister Ragan for Hinnine to haue, Which then was Prince of Camber and Cornwall: These after him should haue his kingdome all Betwene them both, he gaue it franke and free: But nought at all he gaue of dowry mee.

At last it chaunst the king of Fraunce to here my fame. My beuty braue was blazed al abrode eche where: And eke my vertues praisde me to my fathers blame Did for my sisters flattery me lesse fauour beare. Which when this worthy king my wrongs did heare, He sent ambassage likte me more then life, T’intreate he might me haue to be his wife.

My father was content with all his harte, and sayde, He gladly should obtaine his whole request at will Concerning me, if nothing I herin denayde: But yet he kept by their intisment hatred still, (Quoth he) your prince his pleasure to fulfill, I graunt and giue my daughter as you craue: But nought of me for dowry can she haue.

King Aganippus well a greed to take me so, Hee deemde that vertue was of dowries all the best And I contented was to Fraunce my father fro For to depart, and hoapte t’enioye some greater rest. I maried was, and then my ioyes encreaste, A gate more fauoure in this Prince his sight, Then euer Princesse of a princely wight.

But while that I these ioyes enioyd at home in Fraunce, My father Leire in Britayne waxed aged olde, My sisters yet them selues the more aloft t’aduaunce, Thought well they might, be by his leaue, or sans so bolde: To take the realme and rule it as they wolde. They rose as rebels voyde of reason quite, And they depriu’de him of his crowne and right.

Then they agreed, it should be into partes equall Deuided: and my father threscore knightes and squires Should alwayes haue, attending on him still at call. But in sixe monthes so much encreasid hateful Ires, That Gonerell denyde all his desires, So halfe his garde she and her husband refte: And scarce alowde the other halfe they lefte.

Eke as in Scotlande thus he lay lamenting fates, When as his daughter so sought all his vtter spoyle, The meaner vpstart gentles, thought them selues his mates And betters eke, see here an aged Prince his foyle, Then was he fayne for succoure his, to toyle, With all his knightes, to Cornewall there to lye: In greatest nede his Ragan’s loue to trie.

And when he came to Cornwall, Ragan then with ioye, Receiu’d him and eke hir husband did the like: There he abode a yeare and liu’de without anoy, But then they tooke, all his retinue from him quite Saue only ten, and shewde him dayly spite, Which he bewailde complaining durst not striue, Though in disdayne they last alowde but fiue.

On this he deemde him selfe was far that time vnwyse, When from his daughter Gonerell to Ragan hee Departed erste yet eache did him poore king despise: Wherfore to Scotlande once againe with hir to bee, And bide he went: but beastly cruell, shee Bereau’de him of his seruauntes all saue one, Bad him content him selfe with that or none.

Eke at what time he askte of eache to haue his garde, To garde his grace where so he walkte or wente: They calde him doting foole and all his hestes debarde, Demaunded if with life he could not be contente. Then he to late his rigour did repente Gainst me, and sayde, Cordila nowe adieu: I finde the wordes thou toldste mee to to true.

And to be short, to Fraunce he came alone to mee, And tolde me how my sisters him our father vsde: Then I besought my king with teares vpon my knee, That he would aide my father thus by them misusde, Who nought at all my humble heste refusde: But sent to euery coaste of Fraunce for ayde, Wherwith my father home might be conueide.

The soldiours gathered from eche quarter of the land, Came at the length to know the king his mind and wil: Who did commit them to my father’s aged hand, And I likewise of loue and reuerent mere goodwill Desirde my king, he would not take it ill, If I departed for a space withall: To take a parte, or ease my father’s thrall.

This had: I partid with my father from my fere, We came to Britayne with our royal campe to fight: And manly fought so long our enmies vanquisht were By martial feates, and force by subiects sword and might. The Brityshe kinges were faine to yelde our right: And so my father well this realme did guide, Three yeares in peace and after that he dide.

Then I at Leircester in Ianus temple, made His tombe, and buried there his kingly regall corse, As sondry tymes in life before he often bade: For of our father’s will we then did greatly force, We had of conscience eke so much remorce, That we supposde those childrens liues to ill: Which brake their father’s testament, and will.

[469] Who for I could not flatter did lesse fauour beare. N.

[470] Betwixt their husbands twaine they causde him to agree. N.

[471] Of sixtie Knights that on him should attendant bee. N.

[472] As thus in his distresse he lay lamenting fates. N.

[473] Ill. N.

[474] And I was Queene the kingdoms after stil to holde. ed. 1575.

[475] Becke and bay I wolde. ib.

[476] Two churlishe impes. ib.

[477] This stanza follows in edit. 1575.

The one hight Morgan th’ elder sonne of Gonnerell, My sister, and that other Conidagus hight. My sister Ragan’s sonne, that lou’de me neuer well, Both nephewes mine yet would against mee Cordell fight, Because I lou’de always that semed right; Therefore they hated mee and did pursue Their aunte and Queene as she had bene a jewe.

[478] This Morgane was that time the Prince. ib.

[479] Licence. ed. 1575.

[480] Was euer lady in such wofull wreckfull wo. ib.

[481] Depriu’de. ib.

[482]

When first I left, the crowne of France did me exhalt. ed. 1575.

When friends I left in France that did me first exhalt. N.

[483] This. ed. 1575.

[484] That drawes at length to ende. ib.

[485] As in this pryson. ib.

[486] Vile aliue. N.

[487] Their. ed. 1575.

[488] Carkas on couch of straw. ed. 1575.

[489] A deadly. ib.

[490] _i. e._ poniards.

[491] Or libertie agayne. ed. 1575.

[492] Get. ib.

[493] My Hope. ib.

[494] Nephewes. ib.

[495] My wofull plight. ed. 1575.

[496] Deadly. ib.

[497] A mortal. ib.

[498] That one. ib.

[499] Nephewes. ed. 1575.

[500] Which I, alasse, lament, bid those aliue beware. ib.

[501]

Their soules to hell, when as they vndertake To kill a corps, which God did liuely make.

THE AUTHOUR.

Now when this desperate Queene had ended thus Hir tale, and told what haplesse grace she had: As of hir talke some pointes I did discusse, In slomber faln I waxed wondrous sad, Hir nephewes dealings were me thought to bad: Which greu’de me much, but Morpheus had let bee, And therewithall presented one to mee.

Of stature tall a worthy princely wight, In countenaunce he seemde yet mourning still; His complet harnesse not so braue in sight, Nor sure as ours, made now adayes by skill: But clampt together, ioynts but ioyned ill: Vnfit, vnhandsome, heauy, houge, and plaine, Vnweldy wearing, ratling like a chaine.

Wherthrough he had receu’de a deadly stroake, By sworde, or other instrument of warre, And downe his thighes the bloud by sithes did soake Which I perceiued as he came a farre. Now sith (quoth he) to heare you present are: I will declare my name, life, factes and fall, And therewith thus he gan to tell it all. ed. 1575.

[502] The tale of the gentle Cordelia and her unfortunate and too credulous father is better known from the pages of Shakespeare than those of History. Though in both, if not entirely sprung from, it is enlarged by fable, yet the interest that has been excited by the drama justifies the giving it here from manuscript, in one of its earliest shapes, which as such forms a valuable record.

_Of King Leir and of the answere of his yongest daughter that graciously was mariede to the kyng of Fraunce._

After kyng Bladud regned Leir his sone: and this Leir made the toune of Leicestre and lete calle the toune after his name and he gouernede the londe welle and nobly. This kyng Leir had iij doughters the first hight Gonorill, the secund Rigan and the third Cordeill, and the yongest doughter was fairest and best of condicions. The kynge hire fader, become an olde man, and wolde that his doughtres had been maried or that he deide: but first he thought to assaie whiche of ham [them] loued him best and moste, for she that loued him best shuld beste be maried. And he asked of the first doughter how moche sheo [she] him louede? and she answerd and saide, better than hier oune life. Now certes quoth the fader that is a grete loue. Tho [then] axede he of the secunde doughter, hou moche sheo him louede? and sheo said more and passing alle creatures of the world. Ma foy, quath the fader, more may I nought axen. And tho axed he of the thirde doughter, hou moche sheo him louede? Certes fader quoth she, my sustres haue tolde you glosyng wordes, but for suthe I shalle telle you treuthe, for I loue you as moche as I owe to loue my fadere, and for to bryng you more in certeyn howe love goth, I shalle you telle, for as moche as ye be worthe so muche shal ye be louede. The kyng hire fader hadde wente sheo hadde hym scorned and become wonder wrothe and swore be heuen and erthe that she shuld neuer haue good of him: but his doughtres that loued him so moche shuld be welle auaunced and maried. And the first doughter he maried to Mangles kyng of Scotlande and the secunde he maried to Hauemos Erle of Cornewaille and so they ordeynede and speken betwene ham [them] that they shulde departe the reame betwene ham too after the dethe of Leir hire [their] fader. So that Cordeill his yongest doughter shulde no thing haue of his lande. But this Cordeill was wonderous faire and of so good condicions and maners that the kyng of Fraunce Agampe, herde of hire speke and sent to Leir, hire fader, for to haue hire vnto wife and prayed him therof. And kyng Leir hire fader sente him worde that he had departed his londe vnto his two other doughters and saide he hadde no more lande wherewith hire for to marien: And whenne Agampe horde this answere he sente anone ayeyn to Leir and said, that he axid no thyng with hire, but onliche hire clothyng and hire bodie. And anone king Leir hire fader sente hire ouer the see to the kyng of Fraunce and he receyuede hire with mochel worshipp, and with moche solempnite hire spousede and made hire quene of France.

_How Kyng Leir was driven oute of his londe thurz his foly and how Cordil his yongest daughter helped him at his nede._

Thus hit felle afterwarde that tho two eldest doughtres wolde nought abide til that Leir hire fader were dede but werred vppon him whiles that he leued and moche sorwe and shame him dede. Wherfore thei benomen him holly the reame and betwene ham had ordeyned that one of ham shulde haue kyng Leir to soiourne all his life tyme with xl [lx] knyghtes and hire squiers, that he myght worshipfully gone and ride whider that he wolde into what contre that him likede to playn and to solacen. So that Managles kyng of Scotland had kyng Leir with him in the maner as is aboue seide and or other halfe yere were passide Corneill [sic] his eldest doughter that was quene of Scotland was so anoyed of him and of his peple that anone he and hire lorde speken togedres. Wherfore his knyghtes and his squyers half frame him were gone and no mo lefte but oneliche xxx. And whenne this was done Leir began for to make moche sorowe, for incheson that his astate was inpeired, and men had of him more scorne and despite thanne euere thei hadde beforne. Wherfore he wiste neuer what to done and atte the laste thought that he wolde wende into Cornewaile to Ragan his other doughter. And whenne he was come there, the Erle and his wife that was Leier’s doughter, him welcomede and with him made muche ioy, and there he dwelled with xxx knyghtes and squyers. And he had dwellede there scarsly tuelf month that his doughter of him nas fulle and of his companye, and hire lorde and shee of him had scorne and despite so that fro xxx knyghtes thei brougten vnto ten and afterwarde five and so there lefte with him no mo. Tho made he sorwe enough and said, sore wepying: allas that euere he come into that lande. And seid yit had me better for to haue dwellede with my ferst doughter. And anone wente thennes a yein to his first doughter: but anone as she sawe him come, she swore be God and his holy names, and be as moche as she myght that he shulde haue no mo with him but on knyght if he wolde there abide. Tho began Leir wepe and made moche sorwe and said, tho allas nou to longe haue I leuede that this sorwe and mischefe is to me nowe falle: for now am I pouer that somtyme was riche but nou haue I no frende ne kyn that me wolle dune eny goode. But whenne that I was riche alle men me honoured and worsheped and now euery man hath of me scorne and despite: And now I wote that Cordeil my yong doughter saide me treuthe whenne she saide as moche as I hadde so moche shulde I bene beloued. And alle the while that I hadde good tho was I beloued and honoured for my richesse: but my two doughteres me glosed tho and now of me thei setten litel price. And sothe [truth] tolde me Cordeil but I wolde nought belyve hit ne vnderstonde: And therefore I lete hire gone fro me as a thing that I sette litel price of and now wote I neuer what for to done sith my ij doughteres haue me thus deceyuede that I so moche louede. And nou mote I nedes sechen hire that is in another lande, tha lightely I lete hire gone fro me with oute eny rewarde of yiftes. And sheo said she loued me as moche as she aught hire fadre by al manere resonn: And tho I shulde haue axed of hire no more, and tho that me otherwise behighten thurgh hire fals speche nou haue me deceyued. In this maner Leir longe tyme him began to make his mone and at the laste he shope him to the see and passed ouer into Fraunce and axede and aspiede where the quene myghten bene founde and men tolde where that she was. And whenne he come to the cite that sheo was inne priuiliche be sente his squyer to the quene to telle here that hire fadere was comen to hier for grete nede. And whenne the squyer come to the quene be tolde hire euere dele of hire sustres fro the beginnyng vnto the ende. Cordeil the quene anone nome gold and siluer grete plente and toke hit to the squier in counsell that he shulde gone into a certeyn citee and him arrayen, bathen, and wesshen, and then come ayein to hire and bringe with him an honest companye of knyghtes, fourty atte the leste with hire mayne: and thanne he shulde sende to hire lorde the kyng and sein that he were comen for to speke with his doughter and him for to seen. And whenne the kyng and the quene herde that he come they hym receyued with mochel honour. The kyng of Fraunce tho lete sende thurgh alle his reame and comanded that al men to him shulde ben entendaunt to Lier the quenes fader in al maner of thing as hit were to himselfe. Whenne Lier hadde duelled their a monthe and more he tolde to the kyng and to the quene his doughter hou his tueyn eldest doughtres had him serued. Agampe anone lete ordeyne a grete hooste of Fraunce and sente hit into Brutaine with Leir, the quenes fader, for to conquere his lande ayein and his kyngdome. And Cordeill also come with hire fader into Brutaine for to haue the reame after heir fadres deth. And anone thei wente to shipp and passede the see and come into Brutaigne and foughten with the felons and ham scomfetede and quelde and Leir tho had his lande ayein and after leued iij yere and helde his reame in pees and afterward deid and Cordeil his doughtere him lete entere with mochel honour at Leycetre.--Whenne that kyng Leir was dede Cordeill his yongeste doughter helde and hadde the lande v yere and in the mene tyme deide here lorde Agampe that was kyng of Fraunce and efter his dethe she lefte wedowe. And tho come Morgan and Conadage, that wer Cordiell sistre sones, and to hire had enuye for as moche that hire aunte shuld haue the lande: so that betwene ham they ordeyned a grete pouer and vppon hire werrede gretely, and neuere they reste til that they hadde here taken and putte hire vnto dethe. M. S. Brute.

[503] Selfe from blame, blame worthy I. ed. 1575.

[504] Am. ib.

[505] Mothers, ed. 1575.

[506] Foe-mens. N.

[507] I deem’d if that I might once put her downe. N.

[508]

By force or fraud I did intend alone, To sit as King vpon the Britaine throne. N.

[509] Nephewes. ed. 1575.

[510] O caytife vile, that did constraine a Queene. N.

[511] Nay traytour I as nowe by proofe is seene. ed. 1575.

[512] For vengeaunce and at length procurde. ib.

[513] Cunedagius “slough Morgan that was rebel ayanst him in Glamorgan in Wales, and by cause of that happe that countree is called Morgan’s londe.” _Polychronicon._

[514] That. N.

[515] THE AUTHOUR.

With that Morganus quickly past away, The night me thought likewise was far epast, Whereby it weried me so long to staye, But Morpheus bad me bide and see the last, “(Quoth he) the stories passe awaye as fast, “As doth the tyme, and sith th’art nigh th’ende: “Thou nedste not grutche, so short a space to spend.”

And turning then him selfe from me asyde, He calde the next which therwithall in sight Appear’d, and all his breste with bloud bedide. What chaunce (quoth I) hath so thy corps bedight, Thou worthy prince, or what mishaps of fight? “I will (quoth he) with all my hart vnfolde “My fatall fall, and therwithall he tolde.”

[516] This legend is not in the first edition.

[517] Which sought by outrage golden gaines to winne. N.

[518]

A sleepie sicknesse, nam’d the Lethargie, Opprest me sore till death tooke life away: This was the guerdon of my gluttonie, As with the candles light the flie doth play, Though in the ende it worke her liues decay: So of the gluttons cup so long I drunke, Till drown’d in it with shamefull death I sunke. N.

[519] This line omitted by Niccols.

[520] In the first edition this legend is in quatrains.

_Forrex declares howe hee minding to kill his brother which ruled with him (that he might therby raigne alone) was by him slain. About the yeare before Christe, 491._

Pride moues the mindes of stately wightes Such hauty hartes to haue, And causeth vs for glory vayne, That is not ours to craue.

Pryde pluckes out reason forth hir place, And planted will in stede: She puffes our mindes with vayne desires, Our fancies fonde to feede.

Wherby we growe so obstinate, And so ambitious ill: That vs at length our brauery bids In all things vse our will.

Ambition thinkes that lawefull is, Which likes hir fancie best: And demes she ought to haue hir forth, And swinge before the rest.

She loues no mates, controlment shee And warning doth despise: She demes her selfe in all hir deede And actions, wonders wise.

She hath desire of this and that, To get by crouche or clawe: By right or wrong she forceth not, She vseth will for lawe.

No kinde, or countrey she regardes, No mother, father shee: Nor wyfe, or husbande, kithe or kin: But enuies eche degree.

For if thy hart Ambition haue, Thy greedy mynde to still: Thou wilt not sticke thy dearest frende, Or nerest kin to kill.

But as the prouerbe sayes that Pryde Must needes at length haue fall: Though we suppose of strength and powre We haue the deuill and all.

Euen so I say: Ambition makes Vs often clime so hie: At length we fall, we come to nought, And drownde in darkenes lye.

This may I Forrex well auouche, By proufe to true I finde: Wherefore I praye thee with the rest, Do put my faultes in mynde.

My father olde, hight Gorboduge, Raignde three score yeares and three: And at his death gaue all his lande Twene Porrex proude and mee.

Fiue yeares we helde it so in peace, In reste we ruled well: But at the last by pryde and wrath We foule at discorde fell.

We eache encrochte on others partes, For rule we liu’de at strife: And eache did seeke occasion aye To reaue the others life.

I made this counte I elder was, By birth the realme was myne: By warre, or wrong, or bloud I ment To haue it all in fine.

And he although he yonger were, Esteemde his state so sure As mine: and thought it his, if hee My death might once procure.

My mother eke that lou’de me more Although he yonger was: By diuers meanes did helpe me still To bring my feates to passe.

Wherby I thought my selfe so sure To haue my purpose sped, As I requirde: if once I might Get of his crafty head.

See here what faith what frendship is, What loue what fauour wee Do shewe to any wight aliue, If once aloft we bee.

To fathers we are faithlesse ofte: To brothers, butchers vile: Of sisters small accounte we make, And wedded wyues exile.

If any kithe, or kin, we haue, By whom we vantage may: We care not by what cruell meanes Their liues we take away.

But for to get the seate alone, And for to wynne the crowne: We care not whom, nor when, nor how: So we may get them downe.

O brutish beasts! nay worse then those, For they are still content With that they haue, what euer them Hath God or Nature sent.

But we do gape, and gaze for glore: We prowle, and powle, and pill, And sweare, and stare, and striue, and fight, And one another kill.

And all for pompe, and glorie great, For name, renowne, estate: Not caring of the commons crye, Or God’s eternall hate.

If I had had the giftes of grace, I neuer would haue sought By any meanes such worldly trashe, With brother’s bloud to bought.

But as I ment euen so I sped, So bloudy butchers thye: When moste I deemde my purpose sure, He was to good for me.

For as I thought his bloud to shed, I compast was about, So that for thousand kingdomes, I Could not with life scape out.

He pearst my hart, what skilles it sith, My minde was euen as bad: For why what measure I him mente, My selfe like measure had.

And so all such, as murder meane, Intende, or treason vse, Shall at the length, like ends attayne, Or worse they cannot chuse.

[521] To tell my storie on the tragicke stage. N.

[522]

I may complaine that felt god Mars his rage, Alas, that fate to state should be so fell; Had I been meaner borne I know right well. N.

[523] While that my kingly sire, _Gorbodug_, raign’d. N.

[524] Not sticke oft times in field to fight. N.

[525]

Into her bowels by the force of hand, With steele and iron we do dig profound, Working her woe to make our ioyes abound. N.

[526] If we behold the substance. N.

[527] How he is made of elements. N.

[528] Armie strong for field. N.

[529] Heard the counsell. N.

[530] Hope will slip. N.

[531] Bred. N.

[532] The concluding Alexandrine omitted by Niccolls.

THE AUTHOUR.

When as king Forrex thus had tolde his tale, Me thought he stayde no whit but went his way. Then came a mangled corps as full of bale, And or he nerer came made half a stay. (Quoth Morpheus) come, for shame thou nedste not stay, As bad as thou haue tolde their tales before, And so must thou and diuers other more.

[533] The life of Porrex was also re-written. It is thus in the first edition.

_Porrex recites howe for the slaughter of his brother, he was slaine by his owne mother and hir maydens, as he laye sleeping. About the yeare before Christ, 491._

[Sidenote: Genes. 4.]

From darkesome dennes, where cruel Cayne, And other like do lye: Whose bloudie blades were bathde in bloud, Poore caytiue thence come I.

[Sidenote: Annius.]

Where Typhon is, his brother slewe, Osiris in despite: And where their sister Isis is, Did him againe requite.

[Sidenote: Virgil. in culi.]

Where Dardanus to rule alone His brother made away: Etheocles, Polinices, At once did others sley.

[Sidenote: Seruius. 3. Aeneid. Ouid in Ibin.]

Where Helenus king Priam’s son His brother Theon kilde. Medea eke in bloudy wyse, Hir brother’s bloud that spilde.

[Sidenote: Statius.]

Where Tydeus is in hunting shote His brother through the side: Polytes eke his brother’s harte With sworde that opened wyde.

[Sidenote: Herodotus. Gel. li. 4. cap. 3.]

And where as that Cambyses is, His sister once that slewe: And Polipontes king that made, His brother treason rewe.

And cruell where Odores s, Which mercy did deny To Mithridate his brother deare, That did for pardon crie.

[Sidenote: Herodotus.]

Eke where Learchus is, that did His brother sicke destroy: With poyson deadly hoping so, To make him selfe a Roy.

[Sidenote: Ouid in Ibin.]

And where that wretche Mamertes lies, His brothers sonnes that spilte: And Sisapho tormenting him, For such an heynous gilte.

[Sidenote: Plutarch. Laert. Volater.]

Where Rhesus and Caduidus are, With shaftes their brethren slewe: And Philadelphus Ptolomæ His brother’s death did brewe.

[Sidenote: Volater.]

Where Philopater Ptolomæ His father made away And after that his brother with His dearest frendes did slay.

[Sidenote: Plato. 10. de rep.]

And where Ardieus, tyraunt vile, His aged father stroyde, And after that his elder brother, Kingdomes to enioyde.

[Sidenote: Cælius.]

Where Mithridates, beastly king, Of Pontus feeles anoye: Which mother his, and brother eke, Sixe children did destroye.

[Sidenote: Volater.]

Where is Antiochus the great, His brother brought to graue: That he might onely raigne alone, And all the kingdome haue.

[Sidenote: Liuius. Lucan. Ouid.]

Wher Romulus, that Remus slew, Of Romaines, first had fall: Though louing brother first he were, Presumde to scale the wall.

[Sidenote: Flores Histor.]

And where Mempricius lewde doth lye, A Britayne Prince that slue, His brother Manlius fearing lest He were to him vntrue.

[Sidenote: Salust.]

Where Iurgurth eke that basterde is, His brethren brought to graue: That after them Numidia He might for kingdome haue.

And where a thousande are beside, Which were to long to tell, Their parentes deare and brethren slue, And now in darkenes dwell.

From thence I came a Britayne yore, Namde Porrex once a king: Againe to shewe what vices mee To sodaine death did bring.

Now list a while and then do write, What I thee tell, that others may Themselues in such attempts as these, From bloudy acts, as brethren stay.

My brother Forrex fiue yeares space, And I this kingdome helde: Betweene vs both the common weale, We scace did wisely welde.

At length we fondly fell at strife, So Princes bide no mate, Nor make, nor partners, with to raigne But beare their equals hate.

The heire because I yongest was, Thought his by right the crowne: But I esteemde the halfe was mine, And all if he were downe.

Whereby, O brothell, butcher eke, Not brother I did slay: My brother for to haue it all, And get his right away.

Such are the acts of heedelesse youthes, Such are their studies still: Which care not what offence they make, So they their fancies fill.

But as it is vniustice, and An haynous acte to vse: Such murder, slaughter, parricide And iustice all refuse.

So Ioue the iust at length requites Our deedes: and makes vs rewe We euer were, to God, or man Or nature’s hestes vntrue.

For when I deemde the crowne was mine, Which had my brother slayne, O griefe to tell, my mother, and Hir maydens wrought my payne.

Both for my fault, and for she lou’de My brother Forrex still: With all hir maydes she came by night, My sleeping corps to kill.

And I that slombring sleeping lay, Though many dreames fortolde My haplesse fall, could neuer wake, The meaning to vnfolde.

But last supposing with my selfe, I cruell Tigres sawe, With rauening fearcenes rent their yong, Against dame Nature’s lawe.

She came on me to fill my dreame, Before my eyes could wake, And with a dagger reft my life, For Forrex slaughter’s sake.

[Sidenote: Virgil in Culice.]

Much like Agaue and his mates, Shee and hir maydens got Them tooles therefore, and hewde my corse, As small as fleshe to pot.

[Sidenote: Ouid. 6. Metamor.]

Or Progne Queene hir children slue, and hewde their membres small: In wrathfull ire made Tereus feede, and fil himselfe withall.

[Sidenote: Virgil. 8. Aegl.]

Or like Medea monster Queene, hir Iason’s sonnes that kilde: Because she was forsaken when his purpose was fulfilde.

Like these was shee, nay worse, for why, This ended Brutus lyne: Brought me to ende and hir to shame, though first the fault were mine.

Bid those beware that weene to winne, by bloudy acts the crowne: Lest from the height they feele the fall of topsy turuye downe.

For if when they suppose themselues aloft to touch the skie, There chaunce a storme, there is no holde to staye themselues so hie.

But faster farre, more swiftly they, and with more swinge descende, Then euer erst they could with all there force to clime contende: Do bid them then in all their deedes marke well the finall ende.

[534]

Or Typhon who for state and worldly pelfe, His deare Osiris. N.

[535] Then to do the like may trie. N.

[536] Orodes slew his brother. N.

[537] So I my brother’s life away did take. N.

[538] Procur’d the slaughter. N.

[539] This. N.

[540] They would not so aspire to Princes place. N.

[541] From bale to blisse and downe from heauen to hell. N.

[542] Touch not the Prince, crowne, scepter, &c. N.

[543] THE AUTHOUR.

Next after Porrex came an other such, Had all his body quite in peeces rent: A desperate man, his life bewayling much: Which for he seemed sorely to lament, I was the rather him to heare content: That I might also note his story here, From like attempts of vices you to feare.

[Here follows the tragedy of Kimarus, as at p. 208.]

[544] The author has followed the authority of the Polichronicon in making Porrex the survivor. In the chronicle by Harding and other authorities their destiny is reversed; though generally it is stated, that the conqueror obtained the kingdom through the powerful aid of the king of France. Upon the story of these brothers was founded the tragedy of Gorboduc, produced by Norton and Sackvile in 1561, which was one of the earliest legitimate productions of the English drama. The murderous events of their history seem not to have been considered sufficient to maintain the interest of the play, and the traditionary tale was deviated from by making the old king Gorboduc survive his sons, and to fall a sacrifice with the queen, to the rage of the multitude. But this accumulation of horror was in taste with the times, and Sir P. Sidney describes the piece as “full of morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, and thereby obtain the very end of poetry.”

[545] The three formed part of a pentarchy, whereon the chronicles are uniform as to the obscurity.

[546] Not in the first edition.

[547] Right ouerrunnes. N.

[548] After comes. N.

[549] If good be gaine. N.

[550] The grape growes on the vine and not the hop. N.

[551]

Of this now spoken, this would I inferre, Men may by might a kingdome long withhold Not due to them: but they far better were To yeeld vnto the right, what reason would. Good mettals bides the touch, which tries the gold, When copper counted counterfeit in cast, Is deem’d but drosse and called in at last. N.

[552]

I am that Pinnar, who when Brutus blood Extincted was in bloodie Porrex raigne, Amongst the Princes in contention stood, Who in the Britaine throne by right should raigne: Mongst whom by might a part I did obtaine, That part of Albion call’d Logria hight, I did long time vsurpe against all right. N.

[553]

Stater who stept into the Scottish throne, And Rudacke, that vsurpt the Cambrian crowne, Their minds to mine did frame and ioyn’d in one, To keepe the Cornish Prince stout Cloten downe, Twixt whom and vs in fighting, for renowne Faire Ladie Albion Europes wondred Ile, Rob’d of her beautie was, alas the while. N.

[554]

Duke Cloten, though a man of worthie praise, Who claim’d the crowne as due to him by right: Could not preuaile till death did end his daies, His sonne Mulmucius that vndaunted Knight Pursu’d his fathers claime with all his might, And meeting vs in many a bloodie field, At length in manly fight did make vs yeeld. N.

[555]

He Lion-like himselfe with his all troope Of nimble Cornish met vs on the way, And to his conquering arme did cause vs stoope, The price of treason I with blood did pay, My wrong deem’d right appear’d in my decay. Who so by violence scales the throne of State, Seldome sits sure, but falles by violent fate. N.

[556] Not in the first edition. It is scarcely necessary to notice to the reader the change to the anapæstic metre in this short life, which the author has just called “staylesse staggering footed verse.”

[557] Desist not in histories truly to tell. N.

[558] Mirrours. N.

[559] Our souldiers were slaughter’d, or forced to yeeld. N.

[560] Were killed before. N.

[561] Or forced to yeeld, or abandon the coast. N.

[562] Not in the first edition.

[563] Esteem’d. N.

[564] Bladhud’s fond deuice. N.

[565] Adowne. N.

[566] By my mishaps let other men be wise. N.

[567] (For Forrex hight and Porrex both were slayne. N.)

[568] The wors er thereby our faithfull friends were. N.

[569] We do enioy her vaine ioyes. N.

[570] Stand. N.

[571] When I who with others did thinke myselfe sure. N.

[572] Who, when to field our power we did draw. N.

[573] Donwallo with honour. N.

[574] Oppose. N.

[575] Not inserted in the first edition.

[576]

Mulmucius who with conquering blade did free The Britans troubled state from tyrants vile. N.

[577] With me in Albany to leade a princely life. N.

[578] His eie on Samye’s beautie had so fed. N.

[579] By force of armes to beare the. N.

[580] Erst bene heard mongst wise men sawes. N.

[581]

----the like by strife, Or make assault by wrong to winne a Prince’s wife. N.

[582]

But on his side the conquest did appear, I yeelded her. N.

[583] For tribute hostage gaue to Beline ere he past. N.

[584] And why false fortune my attempt did crosse. N.

[585] At seas we met our foes. N.

[586] The. N.

[587] And threatned Beline sore. N.

[588] Then appointed was to take the warre in hand. N.

[589] Whose bounteous grace for aye my loue to him did bind. N.

[590] Rashnes (by proofe I found) incurs the greatest ill. N.

[591] With her his Dukedome. N.

[592] By this you shall defame. N.

[593] Wore. N.

[594] Or force him yeeld.

[595]

By bloodshed they do build and prop their tottering state, Raigne, liue and die despisde, in never dying hate. N.

[596]

----your force, by discord and by strife, Distaine your bloods and reaue Corwenna’s of her life. N.

[597] Then let my iust request haue place. N.

[598]

----Pleading for a righteous peace Aswage the warres which gods commands you to surcease. N.

[599]

----We met, and did imbrace, All warre was set aside and ladie peace tooke place. N.

[600]

The craggie mountaines that do touch the skies, With aged heads are euer white with snow, The seas allow do rore, whence vapours rise, And from the hilles great streames of waters floe, The pathes so strict to passe which few do goe. N.

[601] Hang threatning death to them below. N.

[602] The Tuscans as we droue our heards of neat. N.

[603] Frenchmen with vs were. N.

[604] Could not hold vs well. N.

[605]

We raised straight, at Rome we founded loud alarmes, To wreake reuenge for breach done gainst the law of armes. N.

[606] We came, which we possesse. N.

[607] Paid. N.

[608] Desired peace not daring vs prouoke. N.

[609] Though by the gods. N.

[610] And here he them. N.

[611] Who for a crowne breakes faith, and murders foule commits. N.

[612] He will be. N.

[613]

But from King Ptolomie these newes we heare, No peace he crau’d, no tribute. N.

[614] Ne friendship crau’d. N.

[615]

Except our weapons laid adowne we should submit, No arguments of peace he would admit. N.

[616] Quoth he, _not_ lost. N.

[617] Will all dispoiled bee. N.

[618] Without your powerful aides, whose actes the world haue won. N.

[619]

For which the souldiers all did chuse him for their king, But them as captaine he against their foes would bring. N.

[620] Horse, which made a goodly sight. N.

[621] We wan the fielde in fight, we spoild the land at will. N.

[622] After this battle Beline must be presumed to haue returned to his native land, and many are the notable deeds which he reputedly effected for the weal of Britain. He, “both in ciuile iustice and also religion, as at that time was vsed, encresed his realm, constituting thre Archflamins, whose seas wer at London, York, and Carleon: He finished the foure great waies begun by his father: [Viz. Watling-street, Ikenild-street, the Fosse, and Ermin-street, thus referred to in Camden’s _Britannia_: 'Some imagine that these ways were made by one MULMUTIUS, God knows who, many ages before the birth of Christ: but this is so far from finding credit with me that I positively affirm, they were made from time to time by the Romans!’ To return: he] subdued and made tributarie vnto him Denmark. In London he made the hauen which at this day reteineth the name of him, called Belines-gate: and as master Leiland writeth (whose labour and industrie, in most diligent serchyng out the antiquities of this realm, is greatly to be commended) builded the tower of London. He maried his daughter Cambra vnto a prince of Almain called Antenor, of whom those people were called Cimbri and Sycambri. Finally after he had reigned with his brother and alone 26 yeres he died, and after the pagan maner with great pompe was burned.” _Lanquet._

[623] On high his temple. N.

[624] With gifts of gold. N.

[625] Brenne ouercame the Macedones with their Duke Sosteme, and after spoyled their goddes and their temples, and sayde in myrth, riche Goddes must geue to men some of their riches. _Grafton._

[626] Brought both far and wide. N.

[627] No foes to doubt. N.

[628] Could since be made. N.

[629] One that cride, one cride. N.

[630] T’erect a temple. N.

[631] Was spread a wondrous fame. N.

[632] The answere of deluding sprites the priests do show. N.

[633] The gold of kings and iewels rich were there. N.

[634] Run that doubtfull are. N.

[635] Then. N.

[636] Was with gold so inricht. N.

[637] Courage good nought feare I bid. N.

[638] With Delphos spoile. N.

[639] Stout Euridane and Thessalone I did assay. N.

[640] Did prouide defence. N.

[641] Their foes in face. N.

[642]

The Greekes in villages to make them trip Intreated them to make. N.

[643] Our foes scarce fourteene. N.

[644] Statures all of gold. N.

[645] Stood faire golden. N.

[646] For here the God Apolloe’s pride. N.

[647] Surmounts all Greece beside. N.

[648] Ouerborne. N.

[649] The principal events of this long life of Brennus are also recorded by Grafton and Harding, or may be found in the amusing and copious relation of Fabian. The supernatural discomfiture of his army and occasion of his death is thus related in the Polychronicon. “Efte Brennius tourned agayn oute of the eest countrees: And efte ouercome the Macedoyns and theyr duck Sosten, and spoyled goddes and temples and sayde meryly, that ryche goddes muste gyue men somwhat of her rychesse. Also he spoyled Appolyn Delphicus temple in the hylle mount Pernasus. There men of the countrey prayde helpe of her God, and sodaynly the erthe began to shake and a grete parte of the hylle felle vpon the hooste of Galles; and haylestones slough that other dele. The duc Brennius for sore of his woundes myght not endure, and therefore he slough himself with a sharpe swerde. No man shal wonder though Appolyn toke wreche of hem that spoyled the goddes and the temples: for God suffred Appolyn destroye many nacions by cause of theyr trespaas and euyl lyuyng and dedes. For it is certayn that spirites of the ayer may vse her shrewdnes in them that be mysbyleuyd and euyll of dedes: For grace is wythdrawe from suche maner men and euyl of spirytes haue leue graunted to noye them and to greue them.”

[650] Declare what good. N.

[651] No kingly state. N.

[652] Lofty. ed. 1575.

[653] Sith vertue. ib.

[654] Such praise that all the world giue them applause. N.

[655] “Marcia was right connynge and conde many maner craftes, she made the lawe called Marcene lawe.” _Polychronicon._

[656] Or shall I saye, Kimarus I was king. ed. 1575.

[657] Praise the men that vertuous bin. N.

[658] Purpose I to passe did meane to bring. N.

[659] Of Kimarus “there is nothing written, but that he was a wilde and wanton Prince, geuen to all pleasure and pastime, and reigned but thre yeres, beyng slain of his aduersaries as he was a hunting.” _Grafton._

[660] THE AUTHOURE.

On this Kimarus left me all alone, And so did Morpheus, then I thought to reste: But yet againe he came presenting one, For audience likewise making his requeste, A worthy prince, he ware a warlike creste: A blade in hande, he bloudy rusty bore, Was all his harnesse from his shoulders tore.

His armes and handes were all embrued in bloud, So was his breste, but all the rest beside Seemde rayde with matter vyle, or slimy mud, With red and yelowe as it were bedide: You scarcely could the sight therof abide: Yet sith he seemde some worthy wight to be, It brought by farre lesse squemishnes to me.

[661] Which I do beare. N.

[662] I the dreadfull monster slew. N.

[663] On whom long time did. N.

[664] Till on her wheele’s steepe top she did me bring. N.

[665] Subiected thoughts doth wicked pride suppresse. N.

[666] Without all law as was my lawlesse life. N.

[667] Whom. ed. 1575.

[668]

By strokes to find a passage to his life, But now I found in vaine was all my strife. N.

[669] From scales. ed. 1575.

[670] Seazed. N.

[671] Vs. N.

[672] This fable of the monster is repeated with little if any variation by most writers. “As he (Morindus) wente vppon a tyme by the see side, he mette a grete beste that was blak and horrible, and hidous: and wente that hit had bene a whale of the see: And bente an arweblaste and wolde haue slayn that beste with a quarell, but he myght nought smyte hit. And when he hade shote alle his quarell, the beste anone come to hym in grete haste, and him deuourede alyue, and so he deide.” _M. S. Brute._

[673]

---- an haplesse falle, Or God’s reuenge, example take by mee, And let my death sufficient warning bee. ed. 1575.

THE AUTHOURE.

I could not thus departe to take my reste, For Morpheus bad me byde and heare the last. (Quoth he) behinde as yet, is one the beste: “Do stay a whyle, giue eare till he be past, “And therewithall approtched one full fast, The worthiest wight I euer erste did see”: These wordes he spake, or like it seemed mee.

[674] Not in the first edition.

[675] Except the rest of Britaine princes should. N.

[676] The chronicles say six or seuen years, and deposed for his tyranny.

[677] To yex, to have the hiccough. _Johnson._

[678] Not in the first edition.

[679] An unwilling dolt.

[680]

A drunken sot whose faltering feete do slip, Must pardon craue, his tongue in talke will trip. N.

[681] Erynnys, _i. e._ the goddesses that were to search into those men who had committed heinous offences: their names are Megæra, Tisiphone, and Alecto.

[682] Chaung’d in me. N.

[683] Sow, a great lump of melted iron or lead. _Bailey._

[684] Not in the first edition.

[685] Also prosper. N.

[686] Yet doth stand. N.

[687] Their. N.

[688] With those that will. N.

[689] Doth spoile the corps. N.

[690] Weaker force to. N.

[691] The like examples. N.

[692] Neuerthelesse. N.

[693] This censure was probably from the circumstance of the deeds and name of Nennius being omitted in the Polychronicon, and by Fabian, Lanquet, Rastell, and Stowe.

[694]

As on such tyrants who as bloodie foes, Vnto their countrey wrought such deadly woes. N.

[695] As for myselfe I doe not. N.

[696] That to the dead these moderne writers doe. N.

[697] Any one of yore. N.

[698] Both tall forraine force in fight. N.

[699] Of their foes may haue. N.

[700] Place height Ely of his name. N. Some, as Camden observes, derive the name of Ely “from Helig, a British word signifying willows or sallows, which it bears in abundance; and indeed they are the only thriving trees here.” _Camden’s Britannia._

[701] This stanza omitted by Niccols.

[702] Lanquet, Stowe, Grafton, Flores Histor. _Margin_ of ed. 1575.

[703]

----as stories tell, And fame did beare his name both wide and far. N.

[704] Enlargde them made with. ed. 1575.

[705] _Sic._ Strong. N.

[706] A place for gates to keepe. ed. 1575.

[707] Foemen. N.

[708] The. ed. 1575.

[709]

----these letters he did frame, Brought by ambassadours which hither came. N.

[710] Pledges. ed. 1575.

[711] This. N.

[712] Require. ed. 1575.

[713] No doubt the Romaines more then half were mad. ed. 1575.

[714] Ile to mee. N.

[715] He fully straight decreed. ed. 1575.

[716] Therefore. ib.

[717] The Britaines eke prepar’d themselues. N.

[718] They. N.

[719] Wee Britaynes then farre deemde. ed. 1575.

[720] To meete him first. ib.

[721] Giue an entry here. ib.

[722] Here. ib.

[723] The enemies t’aband. N.

[724] Straunger. ed. 1575.

[725] Sought the noble Britaines. N.

[726] Not looke on mee. ed. 1575.

[727] The ancient stories. N.

[728] I had. N.

[729] My case haue tride. ed. 1575.

[730] Wounded in fight. N.

[731] Romaines stout their courage lose. N.

[732] A. ed. 1575.

[733] “Upon land Cæsar’s horsemen at the first encounter were vanquished, and Laberius Durus the tribune slaine, in a place now called Cheston wood neare vnto Rochester, as saieth the Chronicle of Wigmore.” _Stowe._

[734] Make thee mendes. ib.

[735] Friendship.

[736] For. ib.

[737] “The same [British] historie also maketh mention of one Belinus that was generall of Cassibellane’s armie, and likewise of Nenius brother to Cassibellane, who in fight happened to get Cesar’s swoord fastened in his shield by a blow which Cesar stroke at him. Androgeus also and Tenancius were at the battell in aid of Cassibellane. But Nenius died within 15 daies after the battell of the hurt receiued at Cesar’s hand, although after he was so hurt, he slue Labienus one of the Romane tribunes: all which may well be true, sith Cesar either maketh the best of things for his owne honour, or else coueting to write but commentaries maketh no account to declare the needeful circumstances, or any more of the matter, than the chiefe points of his dealing.” _Holinshed._

[738] Behofe. ed. 1575.

[739] The first eight stanzas of the “L’enuoy” form the like number commencing “the Author” in the edition of 1575.

[740] He vanisht with so sweete an heauenly smell. ib.

[741] Me seemde the. ib.

[742] With. ed. 1575.

[743] And mazed. ib.

[744] Which graunted, al they vanisht. ed. 1575.

[745]

On this in traunce I lay me thought a while And musde reioysing. ib.

[746] Knight. ib.

[747] Playne. ib.

[748] Whose vertues so did passe. ib.

[749] As. ib.

[750] Deseruede. ib.

[751] So. ib.

[752] And let your. ib.

[753] The remainder of “the Authour” from the first edition.

But let me nowe retourne againe to tell, What after this, me chaunst to see and heare. I trust yee Readers like my dealing well, In promise that I made, this later yeare. For sure I thinke, a man farre better were Not speaks at all, to promese hilles of gold, And in performance, waxe as key full colde.

I saide (if God sent time, and space therfore) Ye should receaue from mee (as leysure came) Of these my simple toyles, a greater store, And partly you perceaue, how I performe the same. Such workes, as this my simple muse can frame, (With all my harte and minde) you freely haue: As free, as God these giftes me frely gaue.

Wherefore giue eare, now harken well to this: As to these tunes, I gaue me thought some heede, In doubte if sences led my mynde amisse, Or whether [Greek: pathos] me with toyes did feede. What doth (said Morpheus) now this musing nede? Art thou so farre orewatcht, thy wittes the fayle? Or els do fancies more then wit preuayle?

Not so (quoth I) though far the night be past, And yet me thinkes, I could be well content To leaue them so (if this were now the last) So thou therto and Somnus sweete consent: This noble Nennius well the time hath spent. I would haue staide, if he had spoken more: ’Twas his departure, troubled me so sore.

(Quoth he) thou must a whyle yet longer byde: In fewe he shall declare, how he hath sped That commes. And euen with that I lookt aside, And sawe a coarse approache without a head. What now (quoth I) though erste (by thee) the dead Were causde to speake, declaring all their will, Yet speach of headlesse men doth passe my skill.

With that gan Morpheus touch him with his mace, And sodainly an head, on shoulders pight. For lacke of vse, he could not turne his face, Or else had Morpheus scarcely set it right. He had forgotten eke, to turne his sight: But still he stode his face to set awrye, And wappering turnid vp his white of eye.

As t’were a dead man, reared vp an end, Deuoyde of life, and yet a feeling had: His lippes lay open, grimly ofte hee grend: With hollowe eyes, full oft he frowned sad, And bent his browes, and lookte as he were mad: I sawe not in my life, I thinke his pere: Nor shall not, if I liue this hundred yeare.

At length he tryde, which way to tell his mynde: Yet how to speake his tonge had quite forgotte: Each instrument forgotten had his kinde, That erste could run at randon and by roate, But then me thought, with fist his brest hee smote, The other hande his musing browes did holde: And as awakte (at laste) this tale he tolde.

[754] Daunce. N.

[755] As. ed. 1575.

[756] Their. ib.

[757] Insteede of cheese to fill thy chaps with chalke. ed. 1575.

[758]

I will be briefe and truly tell thee all The cause why I from graue do now appeare. N.

[759]

Let who so stands trust to a stedfast hold, If stedfast hold he thinke that he may find, Presume not on thy strength, nay yet be bold On Fortune’s gifts, nay let her guide thy mind In hope of hap, for she is counted blind. N.

[760]

So bad but we it frame. N.

[761] To done. ed. 1575.

[762] Nephewe. ib.

[763] For feates in armes, for fauour, and for fame. N.

[764] Nephew, ed. 1575.

[765] No, no, be sure. ib.

[766] How seeming friends did prooue my chiefest foes. N.

[767] As. N.

[768] That. N.

[769] Quoth we, by thee did all these Britaines die. N.

[770] Yet darst not. ed. 1575.

[771] Their wounds in flight all scattered. N.

[772] Tongues ioy to light could bring. N.

[773] Our king. N.

[774] Therewith for battaile bent as mad. N.

[775] Our foes foule flight. N.

[776] Seemely there but swordes in sight. ed. 1575.

[777] And men lesse deem’d do giue the conquering stroke. N.

[778] (And turneys.) ed. 1575.

[779] The stanza thus altered by Niccols.

A solemne iusts proclaimed was for those, Who would to win renowne their valour trie, Where th’earle of London’s cosin did expose Himselfe to purchase praise, against whom I To win the prize did all my powers applie: But fatall was the scope I did intend, Th’effects bewray’d my folly in the end.

[780] Fawting eye. ed. 1575. _i. e._ favouring eye. Their former friendly eie. N.

[781] Their foes to feare. N.

[782] Friends worse then forren. N.

[783] That fall at oddes for fond vaine glorie’s sake. N.

[784] That. ed. 1575.

[785] Wise before it be to late. ed. 1575.

[786] Did foule display. ed. 1575.

[787] He me. ib.

[788] Mens. N.

[789] The common rout. N.

[790] Made my foes to stare. N.

[791] Nothing lesse. ed. 1575.

[792] Not be well therwith. ib.

[793] But rather therfore beare. ed. 1575.

[794] Here the following stanzas occur in the first edition.

To which he aunswerd as despite had spoke, With hasty wordes and tauntes of hygher peres. I list not any iote (quoth he) reuoke, Of that is sayd, ne darste thou for thine eares (What euer lookes in place thy fauters beares) Alone to mete me in the field to fraye. But I may hap (by chaunce) to finde the day, Wherein thou shalt not beare the price away.

As for the king we doubte if he be heyre, The kingdome is the Earle of London’s right, And though that he the prince his person beare (In his nonage) he ought not reue it quyte, Ne shall he stay mee if I mynde to fighte. Then where thou speakst (quoth he) of princes peace, And wouldst me warne, from furder dealing seace: Thou better were (perhaps) to holde thy peace.

On which I playnly sayde, highe treason t’was, So much to speake, against our soueraigne Lorde: Quoth I, the boundes of modestie you passe, That dare your case with prince his right accorde: Your betters would far better wordes auorde, And you perhaps your selfe so stoute that showe Which make as though you sought his ouerthrowe, Shall shortly more his grace his pleasure knowe.

[795] And. ed. 1575.

[796]

Thyselfe a traytour rather semest right, That darste presume amongst thy betters so. ib.

[797] I raught to him. ib.

[798] My frendes likewyse could. ib.

[799] They drew. ib.

[800] We freshly. ib.

[801] They. ed. 1575.

[802] Was. ib.

[803] They. ib.

[804] Wherfore they layde about them francke. ib.

[805] Knight. ib.

[806] Several of the early historians concur in representing that this improvident quarrell, and unexpected rencounter, first enabled Cæsar to establish his landing in Britain, from the assistance afterwards given him by the Earl of London. The following is one of the briefest of the statements:--“It befell thus vpon a day that the gentylmen of the kynge’s housholde and the gentylmen of the Erle’s housholde of London after meet, went togyder for to play. And thrugh debate that arose ymonge them Enelin, that was the Erle’s cosyn of London, slewe Irenglas that was the kynge’s cosyn. Wherfore the kynge swore that Enelyn sholde be hanged. But the Erle of London, that was Enelin’s lorde, wolde not suffer hym. Wherfore the kynge was greatly wroth and vexed towarde the Erle and thought hym to dystroye. And pryuely the Erle sende letters to Julius Cezar, that he sholde come into this lande for to helpe hym, and hym auenge vpon the kynge, and he wolde helpe hym with al his myght. And whan the emperour herde these tydynges he was full glad, and ordeyned a stronge power, and came agayne the thyrde tyme into this lande, and the Erle of London helped hym with viii M. men. And at the thyrde tyme was Cassybolon ouercome and dyscomfyted, and made peas to the Emperour for thre thousande pounde of syluer, yeldynge by yere for truage for this lande for euermore.” _Chron. of St. Albans._

[807] Oh that my friend of yore. N.

[808] The edition of 1575 finishes with the life of Lord Irenglas, which Higgins calls the FIRST PART in his concluding lines of

THE AUTHOR.

With that (me thought) he vanisht quite away: And I was come to end my worke at last: Not minding longer on the which to staye, My penne did trudge to wryte these verses fast. I trust sith once, they haue the Printer past That went before: these fragmentes come behinde, Shall of the Readers, likewyse fauour finde.

So of my first part here I make an ende, The Seconde parte which I haue now to fyle Doth call me hence, from these to those to wende: In which if God send grace to guyde my style, I shall (I trust) and that in shorter whyle, Againe retourne, to Printer’s presse with those: Which shal likewise, their fight and falles disclose.

Till then farewell a thousand times to thee, Which takst in hand this booke to shun the ill, That was the fall of these describde by mee, And haste to mende their faultes a firme good will, I wishe thy health, increase of vertu still, Adieu, farewell, I haue but this to say, God send vs both his heauenly grace for aye.

_I. Higgins._

[809] Surely. N.

[810] In brief. N.

[811] Aurelia faire. N.

[812] Morall discipline instruct. N.

[813]

----and write the truth, Of all my noble actions from my youth. N.

[814] The divorce of Henry VIIIth from Q. Katherine is undoubtedly here alluded to by the poet.

[815] That wrought his swift decay. N.

[816] The valiant Galles. N.

[817] Nations which were whilome. N.

[818] My famous warres. N.

[819] Each. N.

[820] That eke. N.

[821] Haue in field of Romane. N.

[822] Both stout. N.

[823] Went. N.

[824] Shippes againe: a wondrous thing. N.

[825] Where hauens be. N

[826] “The Brytons had pyght sharpe stakes in the ryuer of Tamyse there Julius hadde landed, the stakes were grete, shapen as a manne’s thygh and sette about with lede as it is yet seen.” _Polychronicon._

[827] When many diu’d the deepe before the land wee won. N.

[828] Being hardly. N.

[829] Come the following yeare. N.

[830] So stubburne. N.

[831] By our power bee ruled. N.

[832] For our second flight with sports. N.

[833] Neither best appeares. N.

[834] Elenine was stout, for. N.

[835] Vntill at length in fight hight Irenglas was slaine. N.

[836] Before the iudge doe doome. N.

[837] To me in France. N.

[838] He also Sceua sent for pledge. N.

[839] His losse in doubtfull war. N.

[840] His people’s base reuoult he chiefly did deplore. N.

[841] I after sent. N.

[842] The warlike Galles. N.

[843] I led my conquering host. N.

[844] But from. N.

[845] Slaine in fight, or more. N.

[846] But either fell in fight, or from the field did flie. N.

[847] For all our. N.

[848]

----and sonnes by myght did oft assaye, When he was done to death. N.

[849] Of cunning skill. N.

[850] He wins immortall fame, thrice blessed is the crowne. N.

[851] The. N.

[852] Was alone. N.

[853] Sole to be. N.

[854] Me many secret. N.

[855] Soueraigne sway. N.

[856] My ruin and decay. N.

[857] Could no thing in state determin’d bee. N.

[858] Enui’d at me that. N.

[859] As hautie Cassius. N.

[860] The chiefest crime. N.

[861] Dispatch and death. N.

[862] Mine acts, my raigne, and. N.

[863] Yet. N.

[864] Fatall tombe. N.

[865] Without the guide of man. N.

[866] A little wren. N.

[867] My fall in slumber, I. N.

[868] Was from earth and. N.

[869] Hand in hand I thought I walkt with. N.

[870] Make me much that morning to mislike. N.

[871] Can void death’s dart when he doth strike. N.

[872] Seekes his life for to betray? N.

[873] Traytor bloodie Brutus. N.

[874] At last I went and there did meet vntimely fate. N.

[875] To senate as I went behold a Roman stood. N.

[876] Euery traytours name. N.

[877] Sought to spill my blood. N.

[878] Presently decreed to execute. N.

[879] I blind wretch supposde. N.

[880] My vnhappie hand. N.

[881] For which I lost my life, as you shall vnderstand. N.

[882] Diuinings true I then did. N.

[883] To warne me of my death the priest did seeke in vaine. N.

[884] I gaue. N.

[885] My cruell foes. N.

[886] Beset me round about. N.

[887] Perceiu’d my death’s approching sting. N.

[888]

Yee princes all and noble men beware of pride, Wracke not the Commonwealth for wealthie kingdome’s sake; Be warn’d by me that set myselfe the world to guide, Beware what bloodie warres for rule you vndertake: Ere three and twentie wounds had made my heart to quake, How many thousands fell from Pompeyes pride and mine? How many valiant Knights did loued life resigne? N.

[889] Themselues againe for griefe. N.

[890] For they would neuer yeeld though I did them subdue. N.

[891] Some trauail’d farre away. N.

[892] Loth to stay and see. N.

[893] Swift. N.

[894] On Aphrike’s coasts, and Asia. N.

[895] Also knew. N.

[896] Was nought but glorie. N.

[897] Rule 'mongst men aboue. N.

[898] In mind of. N.

[899] So oft addrest. N.

[900] I iustly deeme. N.

[901] Wounds this sentence long hath stood. N.

[902] Of. N.

[903] All men that in affaires themselues imploy. N.

[904] Doe. N.

[905] But first vnto Augustus what befell.

[906] I was both vnto warre. N.

[907] The Romanes heapt on me all worldly blisse. N.

[908] Best 'mongst them. N.

[909] But otherwise then I had thought it fell. N.

[910] About that time did. N.

[911] Loe now when as the Hebrewes. N.

[912] Fiends. N.

[913] All men called. N.

[914] The priests in enuie brought him vnto me. N.

[915] Wisard ’gainst. N.

[916] Which I belieuing whipt him. N.

[917] They kept three daies with souldiers stout: yet he. N.

[918] Which wheu they heard, they. N.

[919] Say, his corpes was stolne away. N.

[920]

--they money taken had; I write the truth, if any otherwise Do bring report, account it but vain lies. N.

[921] Punish. N.

[922] To their accusers threaten. N.

[923] I eke Germanicus with poyson slew. N.

[924] But mine owne selfe who did abuse my place. N.

[925] Caligula at last did poyson me. N.

[926]

In throne on earth a prince as God doth sit, And as a God no iustice should omit. N.

[927] Of foul lust incest. N.

[928]

Which mine owne seruants loathing at the last, With their owne hands my timelesse death did hast. N.

[929] The princely rote no tyrant thoughts can hide. N.

[930]

Guiderius was my name, the sonne of yore, Of noble Cimbaline, and after king: The Romane tribute I would pay no more. N.

[931]

I stoutly did deny what they did claime, Though many counseld me to yeeld the same. N.

[932]

By force and fraude proud Cæsar heere did raigne, But now by might my right I would maintaine. N.

[933]

Amongst his men, a Captaine stout he had, With whom in fight I made my party good; _Hamonius_ men him cal’d, who for his blade In single fight so often I withstood: At last did worke a wile to shed my blood. N.

[934]

He marcht with vs as he a friend had been, And when we came to fight he shew’d a face Of comfort and bold courage ’gainst his men: And when they fled, and we pursu’d the chace, Pursue (quoth he) the Romans flie apace, In British tongue he cride, they flie, they flie, Our hostages had taught him so to crie. N.

[935] His. N.

[936]

Thus by deceits my life hee did confound, Of my decay this was the fatall ground: Which thou must pen that I a miror be, For men to shun the sleights of trecherie. N.

[937] The Cronycle of Englande, and also Gaufride, say that in the hoost of the Romaynes was a Capitayne named Hame or Hamon, the whiche entendyge hurte & destruccyon of the Brytons, chaunged his shelde or Armure and dydde vpon hym the armoure of a Brytayne, and by that meane as a Bryton mysclad, he entred into the thyckest of the hoost, and lastly vnto the place where as kynge Guyderius faught, and shortly after slewe the kynge. But Aruiragus seynge this sodayne myschyef, to the ende that the Brytons shulde nat gyue backe, he hastely causyd hymselfe to be armyd with the cognisaunce of the kynge, and so for kynge contynued the fyght with suche manhode that the romaynes were put to flyght.--Aruiragas, brother to Guyderius, before slayne, wes ordeyned kynge of Brytons, in the yere of our Lord xliiii. This in the Englysshe booke is named Armager, the whiche, as there is shewed, well and knyghtley maynteyned the warre agayne the Romaynes, and after slewe the forenamed Hamo nere vnto an Hauen or port of the see, and hym, so slayne, threwe Gobet meale into the same see. For this skyll was this Hauen longe tyme called Hamon’s Hauen, which at this daye is called Southampton. _Fabian._

[938] By treason vile deserues a shrowding sheete of shame. N.

[939] So well they say, I thinke. N.

[940] Tell thee heere what. N.

[941] Expresse the madnesse of my mind. N.

[942] But also me in ire a monster. N.

[943] Nor fully compleat fram’d. N.

[944] Oft in anger me defam’d. N.

[945] Blood and high descent was. N.

[946] The supreame throne. N.

[947] The bloodie Senate. N.

[948] Determining in minde t’ abolish. N.

[949] Ancient linage. N.

[950] They could, they thought. N.

[951] But still by our proud raigne were. N.

[952] I myselfe had hid. N.

[953] Loe from a place obscure. N.

[954] Forth, by force. N.

[955] I seem’d in heart. N.

[956]

Eke t’ obtaine th’ Emperiall place, Whereby the warriers stout were vnto me inclin’de, Supposing I was meeke, and of a gentle mind. N.

[957] The wilie wolfe that seekes to slay the silly sheepe. N.

[958] Oft times to beare. N.

[959] The craftie fox likewise would. N.

[960] If that he do perceiue the mastiue lying by. N.

[961] The Crocodile in Nile will faine. N.

[962] Wolfe, foxe, and Crocodile. N.

[963] Could wisely faine. N.

[964] Charge forme too great. N.

[965] Well in mind I wist. N.

[966] Not me by force thereof defeate. N.

[967] They had no power to stay me. N.

[968] But after I was thron’d, I gaue. N.

[969] To sport, and bellie chere. N.

[970] And foolish fearefull. N.

[971] Who Messalina hight. N.

[972] The cuckold’s horne. N.

[973] They did seeme t’ abhor the fact. N.

[974] Or if that men with her adulterate would not be. N.

[975] Some famous crime. N.

[976] For which not they. N.

[977] My houshold seruants were prefer’d in place by me. N.

[978] Her for to be. N.

[979] No more with women for to wed. N.

[980] My vicious wiues. N.

[981] Whoredome vile to violate my bed.

[982] But blind at length with folly from my vow I fled. N.

[983] And Agrippina hight, my. N.

[984] And lothsome sinne. N.

[985] Riot, drinking, cards and dice. N.

[986] Skilfull was by practise growne therein. N.

[987] That I of dicing arte did write a worke. N.

[988] May full well declare. N.

[989]

Growne old in all my deeds, so credulous was I. That in each doubtfull place I had some secret spie. N.

[990] So bloodie was I growne, that euery light offence. N.

[991] Cause enough. N.

[992] I so forgetfull was, and such. N.

[993] I would enquire for those that causde my former griefe. N.

[994] For Messalina faire, of late. N.

[995] Others dead I would enquire again. N.

[996] As I in rage before commanded to be slaine. N.

[997] I fondly did extoll. N.

[998] Adorning their degrees with titles. N.

[999] Euen such as seruants were and seru’d. N.

[1000] Amongst the ancient men in senate often sate. N.

[1001] For which the Romans me vnto the death did hate. N.

[1002] Cruell deeds and beastly. N.

[1003] That I their prince were dead. N.

[1004] My Agrippina perswaded me t’adopt her hopefull sonne. N.

[1005] That after my decease the. N.

[1006] When too soone at length. N.

[1007] Her vniust request. N.

[1008] The deadly poyson. N.

[1009] Whereof at last I di’d. N.

[1010] Which as a mirour heere to thee I do commend. N.

[1011] My mother Agrippine so wrought for me. N.

[1012] One man had me for bride and for bride-wife. N.

[1013] Of all they had. N.

[1014] With life to scape. N.

[1015] Waues. N.

[1016] Experience and the prouerbs. N.

[1017] Each tide his flowe. N.

[1018] Went for to destroy. N.

[1019] Mine outrage they no longer could endure. N.

[1020] To saue my selfe away by night I steale. N.

[1021] Which in the ditches stanke. N.

[1022] At my request my friend would me not kill. N.

[1023] Yet. N.

[1024] So mine owne sword I ran quite through my hart. N.

[1025] Euill. N.

[1026] I sought by death to post proud Nero hence. N.

[1027] Although his vice were made the chiefe pretence. N.

[1028] A thing indeed that. N.

[1029] In purple gore oft yeeldes like gainfull good. N.

[1030] The wolfe of wolfe no friendship doth refuse. N.

[1031] The crafty foxe the foxe for friend doth chuse. N.

[1032] As well the shape as qualities of minde. N.

[1033] One loues soft musick and sweet melodie. N.

[1034] For Neroe’s crue. N.

[1035] With. N.

[1036] To seeke reuenge for Neroe’s death. N.

[1037] Souldiers all I. N.

[1038]

I cast about and many waies did trie With prudent fore cast to preuent all ill. N.

[1039] Bereft. N.

[1040] Fortune was wont in state to lift her children high. N.

[1041] Fall adowne againe. N.

[1042] Those that haue renowne. N.

[1043] Amongst the states of men, best is the meaner sort. N.

[1044] A mightie man doe. N.

[1045]

And yet with men as great doe daily liue in strife, His pleasure is but paine, and all his ioy but griefe: When we not with our own contented can abide, With auarice we clime, but fall againe with pride. N.

[1046] I came, had won before. N.

[1047] In fruitfull Westmerlande. N.

[1048] Londricus “landed with a great nauy in the prouince of Albania, now called Scotland, and there vnmercifully he began to spoyle the country, with sworde and fire: whereof when Marius was warned, he in all haste assembled his knightes and people, and made towardes them, and gaue them a strong battaile, in the which Londricus was slaine, and a great part of his people ouerthrowne. In the remembraunce of which victorie, King Marius caused a great stone to be erected, and commaunded therein to be grauen these woordes, _Marii Victoria_, that is, the victory of Marius. This battaile, as the English Chronicle sayth, was foughten at a place which is called Stanes Moore. But wheresoeuer this stone is set, the countrie thereabout was long after called Westmarie, and is nowe called Westmerland.” _Grafton._

[1049] As she before had done. N.

[1050] The certaine truth. N.

[1051] By Fortune false with death so dearely bought. N.

[1052] She sometimes sets vp. N.

[1053]

As I that thought this land from Britaines to regaine, In field with all my Picts were vanquished and slaine. N.

[1054] Their happie fate. N.

[1055] For vnto change of chaunce subiected is their state. N.

[1056] She enriched well. N.

[1057] And vnresisted to. N.

[1058] Take. N.

[1059] Against the law of arms. N.

[1060] Fit we found to worke our harmes. N.

[1061] King Artebane we did subdue in fight. N.

[1062] Slew his men that did with stand. N.

[1063] Mappes. N.

[1064] Rome honour’d mee. N.

[1065] Geta far more mild. N.

[1066] To rule my sonnes, I was vnblest. N.

[1067] Despite, and auarice. N.

[1068] Be. N.

[1069] My. N.

[1070] Probably a line of this stanza was dropt at the press.

[1071] My wicked children sought my death. N.

[1072]

That by my death the empire he might sway, T’obtaine the same he often gaue th’assay. N.

[1073] To Britaine ouer seas from Rome went I. N.

[1074] And tame the stout that tribute did denie. N.

[1075] So in throne to raigne. N.

[1076] Reape our tribute. N.

[1077] In league with them. N.

[1078] I made edict. N.

[1079] _Sixe score miles and twelue._ There was some error of the press in this number. According to _Lanquet_, it should be _five_ score and twelve, while the Polychronicon, which appears to be the poet’s authority, says, “he made a walle in Brytayne that stretcheth six score myle and _tweyne_ vnto the see.”

[1080] Fulgentius stout without delay. N.

[1081] To Scythia sail’d, and there his chance did tell. N.

[1082] And with an host of Picts. N.

[1083] And vnsure. N.

[1084] A wall an hundred mile. N.

[1085] Our ancient race (as I can shew with skill.) N.

[1086] Ioue’s. N.

[1087] Their foule sin. N.

[1088]

As God did make the zones hot, milde, and cold, So did he make like men the same to hold. N.

[1089] Is no fit clime, whence man should. N.

[1090] As they do vse. N.

[1091] But of proud Rome’s Seuerus. N.

[1092] Made to keepe me out. N.

[1093] And taking land. N.

[1094] The cries and shouts of men to skies resound. N.

[1095] I made my way. N.

[1096] Where with my Picts the Parthique I did stay. N.

[1097]

For as I conquest sought, With my life blood the conquest deare was bought. N.

[1098] Gifts. N.

[1099] Do. N.

[1100] Germanie. N.

[1101] I fauour had, and liu’d belou’d alway. N.

[1102] Appointed it my right. N.

[1103] Iustice had from N.

[1104] But gaue an end to causes. N.

[1105] Le stories tell if I do faine in this. N.

[1106] In warres as stout, but. N.

[1107] I not opprest the weaker sort. N.

[1108] Pleasure all, both. N.

[1109] But brother’s treason caused all our ill. N.

[1110] Hight Antonine. N.

[1111] Was, as may appeare. N.

[1112] To kill. N.

[1113] That so by them his sire might poisoned bee. N.

[1114] This when our sire Seuerus wist and saw. N.

[1115] That bloodie beast was bent. N.

[1116] Perswading vs true concord for to hold. N.

[1117] Oft. N.

[1118] T’enlarge his power for th’empire him addrest. N.

[1119] Pursuing warre: neere Yorke. N.

[1120] I was foretold my life. N.

[1121] Apart from his, that did my death deuise. N.

[1122] My seruants were allur’d. N.

[1123] By poison to procure my life’s decay. N.

[1124]

Because they would not to his will be wrought, To bring them vnto death he daily sought. N.

[1125] In danger I was forst. N.

[1126] Not long to wrecke. N.

[1127]

That in the euen he came to spill my blood, As I vnarmed with my mother stood. N.

[1128] She him besought. N.

[1129] Fates. N.

[1130] Antonine that wretch. N.

[1131] Now maist thou deeme. N.

[1132] He to his sire of sonnes was most vnkind. N.

[1133] What monster wrought his faithfull friends such woe. N.

[1134] Throng.

[1135] Their deathes my wicked heart could glad. N.

[1136] And some who did my trecherie disclose. N.

[1137] All my friends I sought to make. N.

[1138] To forsake. N.

[1139] To which in shew I granted N.

[1140] Perceiue then one alone. N.

[1141] I said, I should by foes be forc’d to die. N.

[1142] All resorted to my tent. N.

[1143] Our foe is slaine. N.

[1144] I promist if the soldiers me would saue. N.

[1145] Should haue. N.

[1146] At large in that one day. N.

[1147] Seuerus treasure I did make away. N.

[1148] The souldiers all perceiuing well my mind. N.

[1149] By them the Emperour. N.

[1150] Ill. N.

[1151] My brother’s house and fame I did deface. N.

[1152] Coach. N.

[1153] Cau’lling. N.

[1154] So that few men. N.

[1155] Could with like strength such weightie burthens beare. N.

[1156] With eie to view. N.

[1157] Giue her me to wife. N.

[1158] To vse their hand. N.

[1159] The king scarse scap’d. N.

[1160] Of all wise men. N.

[1161] What he did write againe. N.

[1162] To campe. N.

[1163] The sword at length shall iustly shed his bloud. N.

[1164] There are some lines by Turbervile, entitled: 'The author here declareth why he wrote these histories, and forewente the translation of the learned poet, Lucan.’

[1165] This seems as if Blenerhasset thought Lord Buckhurst and Sackville different persons!

[1166] Neither the printer’s address, author’s epistle, or any of the prose inductions, are inserted in the edition of 1610.

[1167] Not in the edition 1610; Higgins having inserted a life of Guidericus among the additions to Part I. after the appearance of the above by Blener-Hasset. See p. 286.

[1168] How Carassvs a hvsbandman’s sonne, and after King of Britaine, was slaine in battell by Alectus a Roman, Anno Dom. 293. N.

[1169] Picts. N.

[1170] And did so far preuaile. N.

[1171] To bring the barbarous Picts. N.

[1172] of th’ armed Picts. N.

[1173] Rome. N.

[1174] The Picts preuented of their wished pray. N.

[1175] For his gray grotes. N.

[1176] The end of th’act. N.

[1177] Bred such sterne debate. N.

[1178] Our author, in the Epistle to his Friend, (see p. 350,) describes himself to have been “altogether destitute” of books, and that his memory and invention, or diligence, were forced to supply the place of chronicles. Any attempt, therefore, to trace the supposed authorities seems useless if not irrelevant; and where errors of fact are discovered they must probably be considered excusable, from the peculiar disadvantages under which the work was composed. Thus the beauty of queen Helena, her piety, skill in music, and knowledge of the liberal arts, added to the presumption of her having founded seventy colleges, too firmly established her fame to make it doubtful that the remembrance of her might be “smothered with oblivion.” (See the _Chronicle of St. Alban’s_, _Geoffery of Monmouth_, _Grafton_, _&c._) Neither is the “little report of the chronicles,” in another respect, inconsequential. Several of them agree in her having, at an advanced period of life, at the instigation of her son Constantine the great, travelled to Jerusalem for the purpose of seeking for the HOLY CROSS, and having fortunately discovered it. And hence is supposed to originate the name of St. Helena in the Roman Calendar, and the festival held May the third, called “the Invention of the Cross.” Later writers have placed the birth-place of Saint Helena in Bythinia.

[1179] How Qveene Helena of Britaine married Constantivs the Emperour, and much aduanced the Christian faith through the whole world, An. Dom. 289. N.

[1180] So. N.

[1181] They. N.

[1182] Heere at your commaund. N.

[1183] Grace. N.

[1184] Shape. N.

[1185] Misprint for land. It was not altered by Niccols.

[1186] A. N.

[1187] Anno Dom. 446. N.

[1188] Hauens some with forewinds haue. N.

[1189] Choakt. N.

[1190] One. N.

[1191] One. N.

[1192] The barbarous Picts, with speede themselues addrest. N.

[1193] Picts. N.

[1194] The poet has studiously avoided naming the young and beautiful Rowena, and has also neglected, or forgot, to avail himself of depicting the amusing incident of her introducing the wassail bowl, though repeated in several of the chronicles. The following description is from one of the earliest authorities. “And whenne nyghte come, that the kyng shude gone into his chambre, for to take ther his nyghtes reste, Ronewen, that was Engestis doughter, come with a coupe of golde in here hande, and knelede before the kyng, and said to him: “Whatsail.” And the kyng wiste nought what it was to mene, ne what he shulde answere: for as moche as him selfe, ne none of his brutons, yette couthe none englisshe speke, ne vnderstonde hit, but speken tho that same langage that brutons yet done: na the lees a latymere tolde the kyng the ful vnderstandyng ther of whatsaill; and that that other shulde answere: “Drynk, haill.” And that was the firste tyme that “whatsaill,” and “drinke haill,” comen vp in this lande; and frame that tyme into this tyme hit hath bene wel vsede. The kyng Vortiger sawe the fairenesse of Ronewenne, and his armes laide aboute hire nek, and thrise swetely he kissed hire; and anone right he was anamerede of hire, and he desirede to haue hire to his wife, and axede of Engeste hire fadere, and Engeste grauntede, vpon this couenaunt, that the kyng shulde yeue him all the cuntre of Kente that he myght dwelle in and alle his peple. The kyng him graunted preuely with a good wille. And anone after he spousede the damysell that was moche confusion to himselfe: and therfore all the brutons becomen so wrothe for encheson that he had spousede a woman of mysbileue wherfore thai wente alle fro him and no thing to him toke kepe, ne helpe him in thinges that he hadd to done.” MS. Brute.

[1195] Queene. N.

[1196] _Sic._

[1197] Bereaue vs of. N.

[1198] How Vter Pendragon was inamovred on the wife of Gorolus Duke of Cornewall, whom he slew, and after was poisoned by the Saxons, Anno Dom. 500.

[1199] That wounds my fame, which now too late I rew. N.

[1200] There in the church. N.

[1201] Misprint for Cirens. Syrens. N.

[1202] _Ut sup._ Syrens. N.

[1203] I learn’d with losse of my renowne at last. N.

[1204] Like basiliske doth spoile the gazing wight. N.

[1205] I sent the duke away to warres in haste. N.

[1206] This stanza wants the fifth line in the original edition.

[1207] Niccols substituted the following lines in place of the eighteenth and nineteenth stanzas.

[Vnconquered beautie whence had’st thou that power To make stout _Vter_ stoope to his owne shame, That neuer stoopt to foes? why for that flower Of sweete delight in _Igren_, that faire dame, Did I forgoe the golden flower of fame? Victorious beautie and base yeelding lust Did cast great _Vter’s_ conquests in the dust.

Yet no such blame as writers do record Do I deserue for this vnhappie deed Proud _Gorolus_, the bright-cheekt _Igren’s_ lord, Receiu’d no wrong but his owne merits meed, When in the field I made his heart to bleed, If thoughts of treason merit death and shame, His trecherous deeds did well deserue the same.

His gracelesse treason he in act did show, For when I sent him to _Nathaliod_ hight, In bloodie field against the _Saxon_ foe, He swolne in heart with enuie and despight Of his associates good, did leaue the fight, And leauing stout _Nathaliod_ for a pray Vnto the foes, from field he fled away.

By which enforc’d I was with _Mars_ to rise From _Venus’_ bed, and arme me for the field, Where like a storme in thunder clad from skies, Vpon my foes I fell, they could not shield Themselues from death, few scap’t that did not yeeld: _Occa_ and _Ossa_ both I downe did bring, And led them captiue like a conquering king.

Againe I then gan thinke vpon my loue, Vpon mine _Igren_ deare, against whose lord I finding cause, for that he late did proue Faithlesse to me, did with my lust accord ’Gainst him, as ’gainst my foe to draw my sword, Whom by his castle called _Dunilioc_, I slew with blade in battailes bloodie stroke.

Then did I take mine _Igren_ as mine owne And crown’d her queene in my emperiall chaire, On whom great _Arthur_ I begot anone: And after him my _Anna_ hight the faire, In seeming blisse I long liu’d void of care, For thrice nine yeares with _Igren_ I did raigne, And ’gainst the _Saxons_ did my state maintaine.

But for the rape of _Gorolus_ his wife, The heauens did powre down vengeance on my head, I by vntimely death did end my life, My sad soule hence enforc’d by poison fled, By _Saxons_ wrought, who often wish’d me dead, And left behind for all my deeds of fame Iust cause for writers’ pens to speake my shame.] N.

[1208] How Cadwallader the last king of the Britaines was expelled by the Saxons, went to Rome, and there liued in a religious house. N.

[1209] Grizlie. N.

[1210] And the Medes. N.

[1211] Misprinted “farce,” ed. 1578.

[1212] Misprinted “doth dayly dothe,” 1578.

[1213] How Sigebert for his wicked life was thrust from his throne, and miserablie slaine by a heardsman. Anno Dom. 755.

[1214] Leache, ed. 1578.

[1215] Mine. N.

[1216] Misprinted “would haue drownde,” ed. 1578.

[1217] Truth. N.

[1218] My poorer soule who drownd doth death request. N.

[1219] Lamenting. N.

[1220] And night the earth did with her darkenesse vaile. N.

[1221] O wicked deed, may. N.

[1222] Or. N.

[1223] Anno Dom. 870. N.

[1224] An. 870. Saint Ebbe, Abbesse of Coldingham, vi miles north from Berwike, cut off her nose and vpperlip, and perswaded all her sisters to do the like, that they being odible to the Danes, might the better keepe their virginity; in despite whereof the Danes burned the abbey and the nuns therein. _Stowe._

[1225] The complaint of Alurede, or Alfred, is omitted by Niccols.

[1226] “Aluredus was fayre of shappe, and more loued of fader and moder than his other bretheren, and dwellyd in his fader’s courte to the yere of his age twelue, and was not yet lettred. Yet after that the chylde lerned ryght well and helde Saxon poesye in mynde.” _Polychronicon._

[1227] “Guttrun, kynge of Danes, was crystned, and twenty of the grettest that were wyth hym, the whyche kynge Alfredus receyued of the colde water, and yaue him a name, and callyd hym Adelstan. Therfore to kyng Guttrun, that we calle Gurmundus, were yeuen the prouynces of Eest Angles, and of Northumberlonde, for to dwelle ynne. But for the blewe man chaungeth not lyghtly his skynne. This Guttrun destroyed the londes wyth tyrannye and wyth pryde enleuen yere and dyede the twellyfth yere. The other Danys that wolde not be crysten wente in to Fraunce.” _Polychronicon._

[1228] Stowe describes him as a “victorious prince, the studious prouider for widowes, orphanes, and poore people, most perfect in Saxon poetrie, most liberall, endued with wisedome, fortitude, iustice, and temperance, the most patient bearer of sicknesse, wherewith he was dailie vexed, a most discrete searcher of trueth in executing iudgement, and a most vigilant and deuout prince in the seruice of God.” _Chronicle._

[1229] _Sic._

[1230] “He auentred hym to translate the sawtre into Englissh, but he translated vnneth the fyrste parte before his deth. Whan he come to age and wolde stable his herte and his thought in goddes heestes, and lechery of his flesshe greuyd hym and lette hym ofte tyme, therfore to putte awaye temptacyon of flesshely lykynge, he wente and vysyted ofte temples of hooly sayntes erly and late, and at cokkes crowynge, and prayed God that he wolde chastyse his flesshe with suche a sekenes that he shold not be vnprouffytable to wordly dedes, and that he myght the more frely serue God Almyghty. At Godde’s ordenaunce he hadde many yere the euyll called Fycus.” _Polychronicon._

[1231] “He established good lawes, by the which he brought so great a quietnesse to the country, that men might haue hanged golden bracelets and iewels, where the waies parted, and no man durst touch them for feare of the lawe. He caried euer the psalter in his bosome, that when he had any leasure he might read it ouer with diligence.” _Stowe._

[1232] “This Alured regnede xxx yeere and a good kyng had bene and wel couthe chastise his enemyes for he was a good clerk and lete make meney bokes and oo[one] boke he made of Englisshe of auentures of kynges and of batailes that hadde bene done in the londe and many other bokes of gestes he lete ham write that were of grete wisdome and of good lernyng thurz whiche bokes meny men may hamamende that wille ham rede and vppon loke: vppon whos soule Almighti God haue mercy and this kyng Alured lith atte Wynchestre.” _MS. Brute._

[1233] Anno Dom. 1016. N.

[1234] Doe. N.

[1235] My mind enclined to ill, did spoile my hart. N.

[1236] “Egelredus, Edgar’s sone bigoten on his seconde wyfe Elfrytha, was made kyng after his elder broder Edwarde, at Kyngeston. He was a fayr knyghte and a louely. Eyghte and thyrty yere he byseged the kyngdome more verely than ruled it: for the cours of his lyfe was cruell and vngracyous in the begynnynge, wretched in the myddyll, and fowle in the ende.” _Polychronicon._

[1237] In all impietie. N.

[1238] All, my foes the dreadfull Danes. N.

[1239] “The Danes came in to euery hauen of Englonde, so that me wyst not where me myght mete hem. Therfore men myghte not putt hem away wyth yren and put hem away wyth syluer. And payed hem the fyrst yere x. M. li. by counseyle of Sirycus that was archbysshop next after Dunstan. And the second yere xvi. M. li. the thyrd yere xx. M. li. the fourth yere xxiiii. M. li. the fifth yere xxx. M. li. at last xl. M. li. tyll all the money faylled.” _Polychronicon._

[1240] Sure a footing. N.

[1241] Will bring thy fomen downe. N.

[1242] “Etheldrede, kyng of Englande, toke to wife Emma, the sister of Richard Duke of Normandie: which for her beautie was called the flower of Normandie. _Anno_ 998.” _Lanquet._

[1243] “Egelrede, king of England, being greatly enhanced in his own mind, for the mariage of the duke’s sister of Normandy, sent forth into all partes of his realm secret and straict commissions, charging the rulers, that vpon a certain daye and houre assigned, the Danes (which proudly vsed gret crueltie in the land) shold be sodeinly slaine. And so was it done, which thing was after cause of great miserie.” _Lanquet._

[1244] Did here. N.

[1245] “In processe of tyme the Danys were voyded the lande. This worde lorde Dane was, in dyrision and despyte of the Danys, tourned by the Englysshemen into a name of opprobrie, and called Lurdayn, whiche, to our dayes, is nat forgoten; but whan one Englisshe man woll rebuke an other, he woll, for the more rebuke, call hym Lurdayn.” _Fabyan._

[1246] How Edricvs Earle of Mercia, destroyed the valiant king Edmvnd Ironside, in hope of aduancement, and how he was rewarded, Anno Dom. 1018. N.

[1247] “This Edmunde Irensides and Knoughte [Canute] werred strongely togedres, but at the laste thei were acorded in this maner that thei shulde departe the reaume betuene ham, and so thei deden: and after thei becomen sworn brotherne and so wel loueden togedere as thei hadde be bretherne geten of o [one] bodie and o [one] moder borne.” _M. S. Brute._

[1248] The manner of Edrith effecting his treachery is variously related. In the MS. Brute he is said to have invited the monarch to a banquet, “and whenne nyghte come that he shulde gone to bedde the kyng toke his owene mayne and wente into a chambre, and as he lokede aboute he sawe a wondere faire ymage and wel made and in semblant as hit were an archere with a bowe bente in his hande, and in the bowe a fyne arwe. Kyng Edmunde wente tho nere to beholde hit bettere what it might bene, and a none as his honde touchede the arwe anone the arwe him smote thrugh the bodie and ther slough the kyng; for that engine was made to quelle his owene lorde treytoursly.” _M. S. Brute._

[1249] Hent. N.

[1250] How king Harold raigning bvt nine moneths, had continuall warre with the Danes, with the Norway king, with his brother Tostivs, and was at last slaine in battell by William the Conqueror, An. Dom. 1095. N.

[1251]

My men of warre were mustred out of hand, But all my haste was then of none auaile: My brother _Tostius_ with his rebell band, In euery place my subiects did assaile, And euery where did cause their hearts to quaile: Whose wretched state from farther spoile to shield, I by my power did force him flie the field.

He fled to _Norway_ whence a cloud did rise That did obscure the shine of my content, When loe the _Norman_ duke did then deuise, If I to yeeld my scepter would assent, For which betwixt vs to and fro there went Despightfull letters, which I will recite, Wherein he claimes, and I defend my right. N.

[1252] Be. N

[1253] Thence. N.

[1254] Tostius. N.

[1255] My. N.

[1256] I arm’d in haste all danger to auoid. N.

[1257] Tostius. N.

[1258] Earles had in the north destroy’d. N.

[1259] My wounded men were wearie. N.

[1260] Know the plot where he his campe. N.

[1261] I with loude voice to them these words did say. N.

[1262] Your king. N.

[1263] Might then preuaile. N.

[1264] Prefer, N.

[1265] Smart. N.

[1266] Ill. N.

[1267] Sustain’d, and felt that pinching paine. N.

Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations in hyphenation and accents have been standardised where they occur in the editors notes, but all other spelling and punctuation remains unchangedm except as noted below.

Contents: 57 How King Richard the second: 58 corrected to 56. 69 How the Lorde Clyfford: 198 corrected to 195 97 The Poem annexed called England’s Eliza: 783 corrected to 813.

Footnote 1172, referencing verse 8 on page 371, has been corrected according to the note (footnote 35) on page xxxv: Of _Scots_ and _Pictes_ -> of th’ armed Picts.

The editor has used scribal abbreviations in the text. These have been expanded to the intended words, as the exact form of the original notation cannot be reproduced here. These substitutions were made:

a͞ an e͞ en / em o͞ on i͞ in u͞ un y͞ yn n͠ non q͠ que p͠ pre / per / par ^9 us wͭin within

Italics are represented thus _italic_, superscripts thus y^n, subscripts as y_{n}.