Chapter 7

Yet will I sing, but who can better sing Than thou thy self, thine own selfs valiance? That while thou livedst thou madest the Forests ring, And Fields resound, and Flocks to leap and dance, And Shepherds leave their Lambs unto mischance, To run thy shrill _Arcadian_ Pipe to hear, O happy were those days, thrice happy were.

In the same his Poem of the _Ruins of Time_, you may see what account he makes of the World, and of the immortal Fame gotten by Poesie.

In vain do earthly Princes then, in vain, Seek with Pyramids to Heaven aspir'd; Or huge Collosses, built with costly pain; Or brazen Pillars never to be fir'd, Or Shrines, made of the metal most desir'd, To make their Memories for ever live, For how can mortal immortality give? For deeds do die, however nobly done, And thoughts of men do in themselves decay, But wise words taught in numbers for to run, Recorded by the Muses, live for aye; Ne may with storming showers be wash'd away, Ne bitter breathing with harmful blast, Nor age, nor envy, shall them ever wast.

There passeth a story commonly told and believed, that Mr. _Spenser_ presenting his Poems to Queen _Elizabeth_, she highly affected therewith, commanded the Lord _Cecil_, her Treasurer, to give him an Hundred Pound; and when the Treasurer (a good Steward of the Queen's Money) alledged, that Sum was too much for such a matter; then give him, quoth the Queen, _what is reason_; but was so busied, or seemed to be so, about matters of higher concernment, that Mr. _Spenser_ received no reward: whereupon he presented this Petition in a small piece of Paper to the Queen in her progress.

I was promis'd on a time, To have reason for my rime, From that time unto this season, I receiv'd nor rime nor reason.

This tart reflect so wrought upon the Queen, that she gave strict order (not without some check to her Treasurer) for the present payment of the hundred pounds she first intended him.

He afterwards went over into _Ireland_, Secretary to the Lord _Gray_, Lord Deputy thereof; and though that his Office under his Lord was lucrative, yet got he no Estate; _Peculiari Poetis fato semper cum paupertate conflictatus est_, saith the reverend _Cambden_; so that it fared little better with him, (than with _Churchyard_ or _Tusser_ before him) or with _William Xiliander_ the _German_, (a most excellent Linguist, Antiquary, Philosopher, and Mathematician) who was so poor, that (as _Thuanus_ writes) he was thought, _Fami non famæ scribere_.

Thriving so bad in that boggy Country, to add to his misery, he was robb'd by the Rebels of that little he had left; whereupon, in great grief, he returns into _England_, and falling into want, which to a noble spirit is most killing, being heartbroken, he died _Anno_ 1598. and was honourably buried at the sole charge of _Robert_, first of that name Earl of _Essex_, on whose Monument is written this Epitaph.

Edmundus Spencer, _Londinensis, Anglicorum Poetarum nostri seculi fuit Princeps, quod ejus Poemata, faventibus Musis, & victuro genio conscripta comprobant. Obiit immatura morte, Anno salutis_, 1598. _& prope_ Galfredum Chaucerum _conditur, qui scoelisissime Poesin Anglicis literis primus illustravit. In quem hæc scripta sunt Epitaphia._

_Hic prope_ Chaucerum _situs est_ Spenserius, _illi Proximus ingenio, proximus ut tumulo. Hic prope_ Chaucerum Spensere _poeta poetam Conderis, & versu! quam tumulo proprior, Anglica te vivo vixit, plausitque Poesis; Nunc moritura timet, te moriente, mori_.

These two last lines, for the worthiness of the Poet, are thus translated by Dr. _Fuller_.

Whilest thou didst live, liv'd English Poetry, Which fears, now thou art dead, that she shall die.

A modern Author writes, that the Lord _Cecil_ owed Mr. _Spenser_ a grudge for some Reflections of his in _Mother Hubbard's Tale_, and therefore when the Queen had order'd him that Money, the Lord Treasurer said, What all this for a Song? And this he is said to have taken so much to heart, that he contracted a deep Melancholy, which soon after brought his life to a period: so apt is an ingenious spirit to resent a slighting even from the greatest persons. And thus much I must needs say of the Merit of so great a Poet, from so great a Monarch, that it is incident to the best of Poets sometimes to flatter some Royal or Noble Patron, never did any do it more to the height, or with greater art and elegance, if the highest of praises attributed to so Heroick a Princess can justly be termed flattery.

* * * * *

Sir _JOHN HARRINGTON_.

Sir _John Harrington_ is supposed to be born in _Somerset-shire_, he having a fair Estate near _Bath_ in that County. His Father, for carrying a Letter to the Lady (afterwards Queen) _Elizabeth_, was kept twelve months in the _Tower_, and made to spend a Thousand Pounds e're he could be free of that trouble. His Mother also being Servant to the Lady _Elizabeth_, was sequestred from her, and her Husband enjoyned not to keep company with her; so that on both sides he may be said to be very indear'd to Queen _Elizabeth_, who was also his Godmother, a further tye of her kindness and respects unto him.

This Sir _John_ was bred up in _Cambridge_, either in _Christ_'s or in St. _John_'s-Colledge, under Dr. _Still_ his Tutor. He afterwards proved one of the most ingenious Poets of our _English_ Nation, no less noted for his Book of witty Epigrams, than his judicious Translation of _Ariosto's Orlando Furioso_, dedicated to the Lady _Elizabeth_, afterwards Queen of _Bohemia_.

The _British_ Epigramatist, Mr. _John Owen_, in his second Book of Epigrams, thus writes to him:

A Poet mean I am, yet of the Troop, Though thou art not, yet better thou canst do't.

And afterwards in his fourth Book, _Epig._ 20. concerning Envy's Genealogy; he thus complements him.

Fair Vertue, foul-mouth'd Envy breeds, and feeds; From Vertue only this foul Vice proceeds; Wonder not that I this to you indite, 'Gainst your rare Vertues, Envy bends her spite.

It happened that whilest the said Sir _John_ repaired often to an Ordinary in _Bath_, a Female attendress at the Table, neglecting other Gentlemen, which sat higher, and were of greater Estates, applied herself wholly to him, accommodating him with all necessaries, and preventing his asking any thing with her officiousness. She being demanded by him, the reason of her so careful waiting on him? _I understand_ (said she) _you are a very witty man, and if I should displease you in any thing, I fear you would make an Epigram of me._

Sir _John_ frequenting often the Lady _Robert_'s House, his Wives Mother, where they used to go to dinner extraordinary late, a Child of his being there then, said _Grace_, which was that of the _Primmer, Thou givest them Meat in due season_; Hold, said Sir _John_ to the Child, you ought not to lie unto God, for here we never have our Meat in due season. This Jest he afterwards turned into an Epigram, directing it to his Wife, and concluding it thus:

Now if your Mother angry be for this, Then you must reconcile us with a kiss.

A Posthume Book of his came forth, as an addition to Bishop _Godwin's Catalogue of Bishops_, wherein (saith Dr. _Fuller_) besides mistakes, some tart reflections in _Uxaratos Episcopos_, might well have been spared. In a word (saith he) he was a Poet in all things, save in his wealth, leaving a fair Estate to a learned and religious Son, and died about the middle of the Reign of King _James_.

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_JOHN HEYWOOD_.

This _John Heywood_ was one of the first writers of _English_ Plays, contemporary with the Authors of _Gammar Gurton's Needle_, and _Tom Tyler and his Wife_, as may appear by the Titles of his Interludes; _viz._ The Play of Love; Play of the Weather; Play between _Johan_ the Husband, and _Tib_ his Wife; Play between the Pardoner and the Fryer, and the Curate and Neighbour _Prat_; Play of Gentleness and Nobility, in two parts. Besides these he wrote two Comedies, the _Pinner of Wakefield_, and _Philotas_ _Scotch_. There was of this Name, in King _Henry_ the Eighth's Reign, an Epigramatist, _who_, saith the Author of the Art of _English_ Poetry, _for the mirth and quickness of his conceits, more than any good learning was in him, came to be well benefited by the King._

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_THOMAS HEYWOOD_.

_Thomas Heywood_ was a greater Benefactor to the Stage than his Namesake, _John Heywood_, aforesaid, he having (as you may read in an Epistle to a Play of his, called, _The English Travellers_) had an entire hand, or at least a main finger in the writing of 220 of them. And no doubt but he took great pains therein, for it is said, that he not only Acted himself almost every day, but also wrote each day a Sheet; and that he might lose no time, many of his Plays were composed in the Tavern, on the back-side of Tavern Bills; which may be an occasion that so many of them are lost, for of those 220. mentioned before, we find but 25. of them Printed, _viz. The Brazen Age_; _Challenge for Beauty_; _The_ English _Travellers_; _The first and second part of_ Edward _the Fourth_; _The first and second part of Queen_ Elizabeth's _Troubles_; _Fair Maid of the West, first and second part_; _Fortune by Land and Sea_; _Fair Maid of the Exchange_; _Maidenhead well lost_; _Royal King and Loyal Subject_; _Woman kill'd with kindess_; _Wise Woman of_ Hogsdon, Comedies. _Four_ London _Prentices_; _The Golden Age_; _The Iron Age, first and second part_; Robert _Earl of_ Huntington's _downfal_ Robert _Earl of_ Huntington's _death_; _The Silver Age_; _Dutchess of_ Suffolk, Histories; _And Loves Mistress_, a Mask. And, as if the Name of _Heywood_ were destinated to the Stage, there was also one _Jasper Heywood_, who wrote three Tragedies, namely, _Hercules Furiens_, _Thyestes_, and _Troas_. Also, in my time I knew one _Matthew Heywood_; who wrote a Comedy, called _The Changling_, that should have been acted at _Audley-end_ House, but, by I know not what accident was prevented.

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_GEORGE PEEL_.

_George Peel_, a somewhat antiquated _English_ Bard of Queen _Elizabeth_'s date, some remnants of whose pretty pastoral Poetry we have extant in a Collection, entituled, _England's Helicon_. He also contributed to the Stage three Plays, _Edward_ the first, a History; _Alphonsus_, Emperour of _Germany_, a Tragedy; and _David_ and _Bathsabe_ a Tragi-Comedy; which no doubt in the time he wrote passed with good applause.

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_JOHN LILLY_.

_John Lilly_, a famous Poet for the State in his time, as by the Works which he left appears, being in great esteem in his time, and acted then with great applause of the Vulgar, as such things which they understood, and composed chiefly to make them merry. Yet so much prized as they were Printed together in one Volume, namely, _Endymion_, _Alexander and Campasoe_, _Galatea_, _Midas_, _Mother Boniby_, _Maids Metamorphosis_, _Sapho and Phao_, _Woman in the Moon_, Comedies; and another Play called _A Warning for fair Women_; all which declare the great pains he took, and the esteem which he had in that Age.

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_WILLIAM WAGER_.

This _William Wager_ is most famous for an Interlude which he wrote, called _Tom Tyler and his Wife_, which passed with such general applause that it was reprinted in the year 1661. and has been Acted divers times by private persons; the chief Argument whereof is, _Tyler_ his marrying to a Shrew, which, that you may the better understand, take it in the Author's own words, speaking in the person of _Tom Tyler_.

I am a poor _Tyler_, in simple array, And get a poor living, but eight pence a day, My Wife as I get it doth spend it away; And I cannot help it, she saith; wot ye why? For wedding and hanging comes by destiny. I thought when I wed her, she had been a Sheep, At board to be friendly, to sleep when I sleep: She loves so unkindly, she makes me to weep. But I dare say nothing, god wot; wot ye why? For wedding and hanging comes by destiny. Besides this unkindness whereof my grief grows, I think few _Tylers_ are matcht to such shrows, Before she leaves brawling, she falls to deal blows. Which early and late doth cause me to cry, That wedding and hanging is destiny. The more that I please her, the worse she doth like me, The more I forbear her, the more she doth strike me, The more that I get her, the more she doth glike me. Wo worth this ill fortune that maketh me cry, That wedding and hanging is deny. If I had been hanged when I had been married, My torments had ended, though I had miscarried, If I had been warned, then would I have tarried; But now all too lately I feel and cry, That wedding and hanging is destiny.

He wrote also two Comedies, _The Tryal of Chivalry_, and _The longer thou livest, the more Fool thou art_.

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_NICHOLAS BRETON_.

_Nicholas Breton_, a writer of Pastoral Sonnets, Canzons, and Madrigals, in which kind of writing he keeps company with several other contemporary Emulators of _Spencer_ and Sir _Philip Sidney_, in a publish'd Collection of several Odes of the chief Sonneters of that Age. He wrote also several other Books, whereof two I have by me, _Wits Private Wealth_, and another called _The Courtier and the Country-man_, in which last, speaking of _Vertue_, he hath these Verses:

There is a Secret few do know, And doth in special places grow, A rich mans praise, a poor mans wealth, A weak mans strength, a sick mans health, A Ladies beauty, a Lords bliss, A matchless Jewel where it is; And makes, where it is truly seen, A gracious King, and glorious Queen.

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_THOMAS KID, THOMAS WATSON_, &c.

_Thomas Kid_, a writer that seems to have been of pretty good esteem for versifying in former times, being quoted among some of the more fam'd Poets, as _Spencer_, _Drayton_, _Daniel_, _Lodge_ &C. with whom he was either contemporary, or not much later: There is particularly remembred his Tragedy, _Cornelia_.

There also flourish'd about the same time _Thomas Watson_, a contemporary immitater of Sir _Philip Sidney_, as also _Tho. Hudson_, _Joh. Markham_, _Tho. Achelly_, _Joh. Weever_, _Ch. Middleton_, _Geo. Turbervile_, _Hen. Constable_, with some others, especially one _John Lane_, whose Works though much better meriting than many that are in print, yet notwithstanding had the ill fate to be unpublish'd, but they are all still reserved in Manuscript, namely, his _Poetical Vision_, his _Alarm to the Poets_ his _Twelve Months_, his _Guy of Warwick_, a Heroick Poem; and lastly, his Supplement to _Chaucer's Squires Tale_.

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Sir _THOMAS OVERBURY_.

Sir _Thomas Overbury_, a Knight and Wit, was Son to Sir _Nicholas Overbury_ of _Burton_ in _Glocester-shire_, one of the Judges of the Marches; who, to his natural propension of ingenuity, had the addition of good Education, being bred up first in _Oxford_, afterwards, for a while a Student of the Law in the _Middle Temple_; soon after he cast Anchor at Court, the Haven of Hope for all aspiring Spirits; afterwards travell'd into _France_, where having been some time, he returned again, and was entertained into the respects of Sir _Rob. Carre_, one who was newly initiated a Favourite to King _James_; where, by his wise carriage, he purchased to himself not only the good affection and respect of Sir _Robert_, but also of divers other eminent persons.

During his abode with Sir _Robert Carre_, he composed that excellent Poem of his, entituled, _A Wife_; which, for the excellency thereof, the Author of the Epistle to the Reader, prefixed before his Book, thus writes, _Had such a Poem been extant among the ancient_ Romans, _altho' they wanted our easie conservation of Wit by Printing, they would have committed it to Brass, lest injurious time might deprive it of due eternity_. Nor was his Poem of _A Wife_ not only done to the life, but also those Characters which he wrote, to this day not out-witted by any.

But to return from the Work to the Workman; Mr. _Overbury_ is by the King knighted, and Sir _Rob. Carre_ made a Viscount, and such a reciprocal Love pass'd betwixt them, that it was questionable, whether the Viscount were more in favour with King _James_, or Sir _Thomas Overbury_ in the favour of the Viscount? But what estate on earth is so firm, that is not changeable, or what friendship is so constant, that is not dissolvable? Who would imagine this Viscount should be instrumental to his death, who had done him so faithful service, and to whom he had embosom'd his most secret thoughts? Yet so it was, for Sir _Thomas_, out of an unfeigned affection which he bare to the Viscount, diswaded him from a motion of a Marriage which was propounded betwixt him and the Lady _Francis Howard_, who was lately divorced from the Earl of _Essex_, as a Match neither for his credit here, nor comfort hereafter. This Counsel, though it proceeded from an unfeigned love in Sir _Thomas_, yet where Beauty commands, all discretion being sequestred, created in the Viscount a hatred towards him; and in the Countess the fury of a woman, a desire of revenge, who perswaded the Viscount, _That it was not possible that ever she should endure those injuries, or hope for any prosperity so long as he lived; That she wondred how he could be so familiar, so much affected to his man_ Overbury; _that without him he could do nothing, as it were making him his right hand, seeing he being newly grown into the Kings favour, and depending wholly upon his greatness, must expect to be clouded if not ruined, when his servant that knew his secrets should come to preferment._ The Viscount, apt enough of his own inclination to revenge, being thus further exasperated by the Countess, they joyntly resolve upon his death, and soon a fit opportunity came to their hands. He being by King _James_ (and as it is thought by the Viscount's Counsel) nominated to be sent Embassador to the Emperor of _Russia_, was by the said Viscount, whom he especially trusted, persuaded to decline the employment, as no better than an _honourable Grave_; Better lie some days in the _Tower_, than more months in a worse Prison; a Ship by Sea, and a barbarous cold Country by Land. _You are now_ (Said he) _in credit at home, and have made tryal of the dangers of travel, why then should you hazard all upon uncertainties, being already in possession of that you can probably expect by these means_; promising him, that within a small time he would so work with the King, that he should have a good of opinion him. But he (saith Dr. _Fuller_) who willingly goes into a Prison out of hope to come easily out of it, may stay therein so long till he be too late convinced of his error.

And now having him in the place where they would, their next study to secure their revenge, was closely to make him away; which they concluded to be by poyson. To this end, they consult with one Mrs. _Turner_ (the first inventer of that horrid Garb of yellow Ruffs and Cuffs, and in which Garb she was after hanged) she having acquaintance with one _James Franklin_, a man skilled for that purpose, agreed with him to provide that which should not kill presently, but cause one to languish away by degrees, a little and a little. Sir _Gervas Yelvis_, Lieutenant of the Tower, being drawn into the Conspiracy, admits one _Weston_, Mrs. _Turners_ man, who under pretence of waiting upon Sir _Thomas_, was to act the horrid Tragedy. The Plot thus continued, _Franklin_ buyes certain Poysons, _viz. Sosater_, _white Arsenic_, _Mercury sublimate_, _Cantharides_, red _Mercury_, with three or four other deadly Ingredients, which he delivered to _Weston_, with instructions how to use them. _Weston_, (an apt Scholar in the Devil's School) tempers them in his Broth and Meat, increasing or diminishing their strength according as he saw him affected. Besides these, poyson'd Tarts & Jellies are sent him by the Viscount. Nay, they poysoned his very Salt, Sauce, Meat and Drink; but being of a very strong Constitution, he held out still: At last they effected their work by a poysoned Clyster which they administed unto him, so that the next day he died thereof; and because there were some Blisters and ugly Botches on his Body, the Conspirators gave it out he died of the _French Pox_.

Thus by the Malice of a Woman this worthy Knight was murdered, who yet still lives in that witty Poem of his, entituled, _a Wife_; as is well expressed by these Verses under his Picture.

A man's best Fortune, or his worst's a Wife: Yet I that knew no Marriage, Peace, nor Strife, Live by a good one, by a bad one lost my Life.

But God, who seldom suffers Murder to go unrevenged, revealed the same; for notwithstanding what the Conspirators had given out, Suspitions grew high that Sir_ Thomas_ was poysoned: Whereupon _We port_ is examined by the Lord _Cook_, who at first flatly denied the same; but being perswaded by the Bishop of _London_, he tells all: How Mrs. _Turner_ and the Countess came acquainted; what relation she had to Witches, Sorcerers and Conjurers; and discovers all those who had any hand in it: whereupon they were all apprehended; some sent to the _Tower_, others to _Newgate_. Having thus confessed, being convicted according to course of Law, he was hanged at _Tyburn_; after him Mrs. _Turner_, after her _Franklin_, then Sir _Gervas Yelvis_, upon their several Arraignments, were found guilty, and executed. Some of them died very penitent: The Earl and his Countess were both condemned, but through the King's gracious Pardon had their Lives saved, but were never admitted to the Favour of the Court.

We shall conclude all with this his Epitaph written by himself.

The span of my days measur'd, here I rest, That is, my Body; but my Soul, his Guest, Is hence ascended, whither, neither Time, Nor Faith, nor Hope, but only Love can clime; Where being now enlightned, she doth know The Truth of all men argue of below: Only this Dust doth here in pawn remain, That, when the world dissolves, she come again.

* * * * *

Mr. _MICHAEL DRAYTON_.

Mr. _Drayton_, one who had drunk as deep a Draught at _Helicon_ as any in his time, was born at _Athelston_ in _Warwickshire_, as appeareth in his Poetical Address thereunto, _Poly-Olbion_, Song 13. p. 213.

My native Country then, which so brave Spirits hast bred, If there be virtue yet remaining in thy earth, Or any good of thine thou breath'st into my Birth, Accept it as thine own whilst now I sing of thee, Of all thy latter Brood th'unworthiest tho' I be.

He was in his time for fame and renown in Poetry, not much inferior, if not equal to Mr. _Spencer_, or Sir _Philip Sidney_ himself. Take a taste of the sprightfulness of his Muse, out of his _Poly-Olbion_, speaking of his native County _Warwickshire_.

Upon the Mid-lands now th'industrious Muse doth fall, That Shire which we the Heart of _England_ well may call, As she herself extends (the midst which is _Deweed_) betwixt St. _Michael's Mount_ and _Barwick_-bordering _Tweed_, Brave _Warwick_ that abroad so long advanc'd her _Bear_, By her illustrious Earls renowned every where, Above her neighbouring Shires which always bore her Head.

Also in the Beginning of his _Poly-Olbion_ he thus writes;