*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MIRROR FOR MAGISTRATES, VOLUME I (OF 2) ***
Mirror for Magistrates.
T. Bensley, Printer,
Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London.
Mirror for Magistrates.
EDITED BY
JOSEPH HASLEWOOD.
VOLUME I.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR
LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO. FINSBURY SQUARE; AND
LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1815.
Mirror for Magistrates,
IN FIVE PARTS.
VOLUME THE FIRST,
CONTAINING
PART I.
BY JOHN HIGGINS.
PART II.
BY THOMAS BLENER-HASSET.
COLLATED WITH
VARIOUS EDITIONS, AND HISTORICAL NOTES, &c. By JOSEPH HASLEWOOD.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR
LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO. FINSBURY SQUARE; AND
LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1815.
[Pg i]
TO
FRANCIS DOUCE, ESQ.
THIS EDITION
OF THE
Mirror for Magistrates:
A
POPULAR PRODUCTION OF THE REIGN OF ELIZABETH
WHICH MERITED REVIVAL,
IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,
BY HIS OBEDIENT
AND OBLIGED SERVANT,
JOSEPH HASLEWOOD.
INTRODUCTION.
Although the prevailing taste for Bibliography has already drawn
forth copious accounts of the various editions of the Mirror for
Magistrates, and the industry of preceding Biographers has left
little new to say of its authors, yet an entire Reprint of this once
celebrated work requires the accompaniment of an Introductory Account
of these subjects, even at the hazard of repeating a great deal that
has been lately told, unmixed with much that is novel.
The history of the Work divides itself under three several heads; viz.
1. Of its origin. 2. Of the 'primary inventor.’[1] 3. Of the various
editions. But before these are separately examined, there may be fitly
introduced the following view taken by our admirable historian of
English Poetry, of the turbulent period of its first appearance.
“True genius,” Warton says, “unseduced by the cabals, and unalarmed
by the dangers of faction, defies or neglects those events, which
destroy the peace of mankind, and often exerts its operations amidst
the most violent commotions of a state. Without patronage and without
readers, I may add without models, the earlier Italian writers, while
their country was shook by the intestine tumults of the Guelfes and
Guibelines, continued to produce[Pg ii] original compositions both in prose
and verse, which yet stand unrivalled. The age of Pericles and of
the Peloponnesian war was the same. Careless of those who governed
or disturbed the world, and superior to the calamities of a quarrel,
in which two mighty leaders contended for the prize of universal
dominion, Lucretius wrote his sublime didactic poem On the System
of Nature, Virgil his Bucolics, and Cicero his Books of Philosophy.
The proscriptions of Augustus did not prevent the progress of the
Roman literature. In the turbulent and unpropitious reign of Queen
Mary, when controversy was no longer confined to speculation, and a
spiritual warfare polluted every part of England with murthers more
atrocious than the slaughter of the most bloody civil contest, a poem
was planned, although not fully completed, which illuminates with no
common lustre that interval of darkness, which occupies the annals
of English poetry from Surrey to Spenser, entitled A Mirrour for
Magistrates.”[2]
I. After this general character of the work, the first step in our
particular discussion leads us to its origin. This was confessedly
Lydgate’sFall of Princes, an origin which is very
striking, and still enhances the high merit so eloquently ascribed
to it by Warton, when we recollect that the writer to whom it thus
owed its foundation, has been pronounced by a shrewd critic one “who
disgraced the name and patronage of his master Chaucer.”[3] But so
decisive and intimate was this origin of a work, which had so important
an effect on our national poetry, that when first planned, it seems
intended to have been embodied in the same volume with the translation
by Lydgate.
To prove that this is not a mere point of speculative criticism; but,
on the contrary, stands on evidence very different from conjecture,
I need only cite the words of William Baldwin himself, the original
editor: “Whan the printer (he says) had purposed with himselfe to
printe Lidgates booke of the fall of Princes, and had made pryuye
thereto many both honourable and worshipfull, he was counsailed by
dyuers of them to procure to[Pg iii] haue the storye contynewed from where as
Bochas left, vnto this present time, chiefly of such as Fortune had
dalyed with here in this ylande: which might be as a myrrour for al men
as well nobles as others.”[4] From this suggestion the printer, John
Wayland, importuned Baldwin to undertake the task; but he describes
himself as declining so weighty an enterprise without assistance.
On the other hand Wayland, “earnest and diligent in his affairs,”
procured, shortly after, divers learned men to consent to take upon
them part of the 'travail;’ and early in the year 1555, the Mirror
for Magistrates was partly printed in folio, but the proceeding
hindered by the Lord Chancellor that then was.[5]
In that suppressed edition the interlocutory parts are given in
running lines across the page, and the poems in double columns, the
type corresponding and the page imposed of the same size as Wayland’s
edition of Lydgate’s translation; wherein the roman numericals have an
unusual stop at the end of the seventh book with “leaf clxiij,” and the
prologue of the eighth book commences with “fol. 1,” which continues to
the end at “fol. XXXVII,” as if it was projected to add to the
last portion the Mirror for Magistrates, making a second part or
volume in continuance of the work which gave it origin.
From the time of first establishing the English press to the reign of
Queen Mary, when the folio, or suppressed, edition was printed, our
typographical annals do not show any works in equal estimation with
the domestic chronicles. The Fruit of Times, or St. Alban’s Chronicle,
Polychronicon, and those others compiled by Fabyan, Grafton, Hall,
Harding, Lanquet, &c. were in general repute and extensive circulation,
and for that reason fixed upon as fit materials for poetry by Baldwin
and his coadjutors.
The influence and demand for the chronicles also occasioned the sudden
revival, after a lapse of twenty-seven years, of The[Pg iv] boke of
Iohan Bochas descryuing the fall of Princes, Princesses, and other
Nobles, translated by John Lydgate. That work was first printed
by Pynson in 1494, also in 1527,[6] and then remained unnoticed until
1554, when Richard Tottell reprinted it under a new title,[7] with
the incidental wood-cuts, and appending thereto the singular dance of
Machabree.[8]
In the same or following year after this revival an edition was
projected and executed by Wayland:[9]—a convincing evidence,[Pg v] as well
of the fashionable cast of reading, as of the rapid demand for that
work; otherwise even the rivalry of trade would never have hazarded
another edition, so soon after Tottell’s copies had supplied the market.
All the authors who joined in enlarging, or completing the part first
published of the Mirrour, have but slightly deviated from
Lydgate’s model, which was then secure in public approbation; and they
therefore, in some instances, may be suspected to have sacrificed
genius and imagination at the shrine of perverted taste, in order
to obtain a continuance of the same patronage. The Mirrour for
Magistrates was, in fact, a common offspring of that class of
historical literature, which then flourished widely.[10] The addition
of rhyme was the mere variance of a minor[Pg vi] ornament, rather than a
change of its substantial nature;[11] though many inferior productions,
which its popularity brought forth, seemed afterwards to give it the
appearance of forming a main class of our national poetry.[12]
From those historical stores were taken the principal incidents and
characters of the princes and nobles, whose vicious lives and tragical
ends made them conspicuous as moral examples; and as fit beacons to
check rebellion; a purpose which is ably attempted through the whole
work. Indeed, so little did any one of this combination of poets
venture fame, that novelty was neither attempted in subject, nor manner
of composition. The whole selection of matter was from chronicles in
universal circulation; as the seven-line stanza was adopted from their
precursor Lydgate; and, upon this last point, there may be added, that
it is doubtful if Higgins did[Pg vii] not cancel two or three lives, first
published in another measure, for the advantage of substituting others,
to accord with the original plan and general taste.[13]
[Pg viii]
II. In the next division of inquiry as to the 'primary inventor’ of
the Mirror for Magistrates, the discussion arises from the
unfounded[Pg ix] application of that term by Warton to that eminent genius
Thomas Sackville, afterwards created Lord Buckhurst and
Earl of Dorset, and which has been repeated, without examination, by
subsequent writers.
[Pg x]
It has been already stated, that the industry of Wayland effected
much in obtaining the contributory aid of the popular poets; nor must
the labour of Ferrers, who exerted himself in completing the
original plan, be left unnoticed; but still the general formation
rests principally, if not entirely, with Baldwin. His claim
to the air of novelty, so successfully introduced for the purpose of
connecting the whole as an unbroken series, by an intermediate and
apposite dialogue, has not been disputed, any more than his finally
completing the volume with an introductory Epistle and Preface.
The date at which Sackville’s communication was obtained, is decisive
against the opinion, that the work found in him “its primary inventor.”
If the contributors to the suppressed edition remain, like their
articles, unknown and uncertain; the one published in 1559, was a
complete volume, and not any communication by Sackville is there
inserted. The intervention of the lord Chancellor certainly deferred,
but did not destroy the work; and only on the enlargement thereof, by
a SECOND PART, in 1563, is his name first mentioned, in the
address prefixed to that part by Baldwin, as having “aptly ordered the
duke of Buckynghams oracion.” At the distance of a few sheets after
this trite notice, appears that beautifully descriptive and highly
polished poem called “the Induction,” which served to envelop
all the other contributors with the shade of secondary characters.
[Pg xi]
The history of its origin is given, in the intermediate dialogue, thus:
“Then sayd the reader: 'The next here whom I finde miserable are king
Edwards two sonnes, cruelly murdered in the Tower of London.’ 'Haue you
theyr tragedy?’ 'No surely (q; I) the Lord Vaulx vndertooke
to penne it, but what he hath done therein I am not certayne, and
therfore I let it passe til I knowe farder. I haue here ye Duke of
Buckingham, king Richarde’s chyefe instrument, wrytten by mayster
Thomas Sackuille.’ 'Read it we pray you:’ sayd they. 'Wyth a good wyl
(q; I) but fyrst you shal heare his preface or Induction.’ 'Hath he
made a preface (q; one) what meaneth he thereby, seeing none other hath
vsed the like order?’ 'I wyl tell you the cause thereof (q; I) which
is thys: After that he vnderstoode that some of the counsayle would
not suffer the booke to be printed in suche order as we had agreed and
determined, he purposed with himselfe to have gotten at my handes, al
the tragedies that were before the duke of Buckinghams, which he would
haue preserued in one volume, and from that time backeward euen to the
time of William the Conquerour, he determined to continue and perfect
all the story himselfe in such order as Lydgate (folowing Bocchas) had
already vsed. And therfore to make a meete induction into the matter,
he deuised this poesye; which in my Judgement is so wel penned, that I
woulde not haue any verse therof left out of our volume.’—”
Niccols, in the last edition, has ventured, without reason, to sever
the Induction from the Legend, before which it was placed, in order to
fix it at the head of those collected by Baldwin, although that editor
did not suffer the communication of Sackville to alter his original
plan. The explanatory Advertisement of Niccols has occasioned the
erroneous belief of that author being 'primary inventor’ of the whole
work. “Hauing hitherto (he says) continued the storie, gentle Reader,
from the first entrance of Brute into this Iland, with the falles of
such Princes, as were neuer before this time in one volume comprised,
I now proceed with the rest, which take their beginning from the
Conquest, whose [pen-men being many and diuers, all diuerslie affected
in[Pg xii] the method of this their Mirror, I purpose only to follow
the intended scope of that, most honorable personage, who, by how much
he did surpasse the rest in the eminence of his noble condition, by
so much he hath exceeded them all in the excellencie of his heroicall
stile which with a golden pen he hath limmed out to posteritie in that
worthy obiect of his minde, the Tragedie of the Duke of Buckingham, and
in his preface then intituled Master Sackuil’s induction. This worthie
President of learning, intending to perfect all this storie himselfe
from the Conquest, being called to a more serious expence of his time
in the great State-affaires of his most royall Ladie, and Soueraigne,
left the dispose thereof to M. Baldwine,] M. Ferrers, and others, the
composers of these Tragedies, who continuing their methode which was by
way of dialogue or interlocution betwixt euery Tragedie, gaue it onely
place before the Duke of Buckinghams complaint, which order I since
hauing altered, haue placed the Induction in the beginning, with euery
Tragedie following according to succession and the iust computation of
time, which before was not obserued,” &c.
With a knowlege of the statement made by Baldwin, there is not any
thing obscure or easily to be mistook in this Advertisement. Niccols
has only repeated the intention of Sackville, and that being prevented
by more weighty engagements from executing it, he left the Induction at
the disposal of Baldwin, Ferrers, &c. who chose to continue their own
plan. Of this plan Niccols altered the order, and placed the Induction
at the beginning. However the sense of the prefatory article has been
much mistaken; probably from a want of some knowlege of the antecedent
authority.
Mrs. Cooper, in the Muses Library, 1738, says of Sackville:
“It appears to me, by a preface of Mr. Niccols, that the Original
Plan of the Mirror for Magistrates, was principally owing to
him.”—Collins, in the English Peerage, having transcribed the
passage given above in brackets, is referred to by Lord Orford, in
the Royal and Noble Authors, as his authority for asserting,
that “the original thought was his Lordship’s.” And might not this
concatenation of error extend further by the construction of Lord
Orford and have misled Warton? That luminous historian of our[Pg xiii] native
poetry, says: “More writers than one were concerned in the execution of
this piece: but its PRIMARY INVENTOR, and most distinguished
contributor, was Thomas Sackville the first lord Buckhurst, and first
earl of Dorset. About the year 1557, he formed the plan of a poem, in
which all the illustrious but unfortunate characters of the English
history, from the conquest to the end of the fourteenth century, were
to pass in review before the poet, who descends like Dante into the
infernal region, and is conducted by Sorrow. Although a descent into
hell had been suggested by other poets, the application of such a
fiction to the present design, is a conspicuous proof of genius and
even of invention. Every personage was to recite his own misfortunes
in a separate soliloquy. But Sackville had leisure only to finish a
poetical preface called an Induction, and one Legend, which
is the life of Henry Stafford duke of Buckingham. Relinquishing
therefore the design abruptly, and hastily adapting the close of his
Induction to the appearance of Buckingham, the only story he
had yet written, and which was to have been the last in his series, he
recommended the completion of the whole to Richard Baldwyne and George
Ferrers.”—
“Baldwyne and Ferrers,” it is afterwards observed, “perhaps deterred by
the greatness of the attempt, did not attend to the series prescribed
by Sackville, but inviting some others to their assistance, among which
are Churchyard and Phayer, chose such lives from the newly published
chronicles of Fabyan and Hall, as seemed to display the most affecting
catastrophes, and which very probably were pointed out by Sackville.”—
The observations of Warton were either written at various times, or he
depended too implicitly upon loose extracts from authorities no longer
possessed, as he refers to one edition when quoting another.[14]
The hypothesis of Sackville being 'primary inventor,’ &c. shows that
he relied upon, and at the same time mistook, the[Pg xiv] meaning of Niccols,
(whose corrupt text of the Induction he reprinted,) and never
discovered that his position was negatived by the interlocutory matter
given above from the edition of 1563, when Sackville made his first and
only known communication.
While this circumstantial detail disrobes Sackville of his revived
honors, there must not be more than a qualified portion of the
character of 'primary inventor’ of the Mirrour for Magistrates
transferred to Baldwin. He was the common editor and inventor of the
intermediate conversations, but the acknowledged design of himself and
associates went no further than to raise another story upon the fabric
built by Lydgate in the preceding century.[15]
[Pg xvi]
III. The bibliographical division is classed chronologically by
the dates of the editions, and not as to the legends. The first or
suppressed edition was entituled
A Memorial of suche Princes, as since the tyme of King
Richarde the seconde, haue been vnfortunate in the Realme of
England. Londini Inædibus Johannis Waylandi. Cum priuilegio per
Septennium. Folio.
The above title in the same compartment as was used by Wayland on
reprinting Lydgate.[16] At the back of the leaf is a copy of his
letters patent, as preserved in the note below,[17] to secure a right
in the work as having first printed it.
[Pg xvii]
Baldwin in his Epistle dedicatory, in 1559, says: “The wurke was
begun, & part of it printed iiii years agoe, but hyndred by the Lord
Chancellor that then was.” This hinderance must have arisen from the
rigour of Stephen Gardiner, who died, Chancellor, in Nov. 1555. How
far the printing had proceeded is unknown.[18][Pg xviii] Three or perhaps four
copies of the title leaf may be traced; and two of those are in the
possession of Mr. Heber.[19] There is also a fragment of two duplicate
leaves in the British Museum, with running title “vnfortunate English
Princes,” containing part of the legend of Owen Glendower, and from
which the appropriation is now first made of the signature “T.
Ch.” to its more certain owner Sir Thomas Chaloner. It
maybe added, that I have reason to believe, a still larger fragment
exists in a private library.[20]
From the size and manner of the page of this folio edition being upon
the same scale as Wayland’s reprint of The tragedies gathered by
Ihon Bochas, as noticed already, it appears upon calculation, that
if no more than was printed in 1559 had been given,[21] it would not
have exceeded twenty-five or thirty leaves, and which may be assigned
as a further reason for believing the original intention was to include
both works in one volume.
A Myrroure for Magistrates. Wherein may be seen by example
of other, with howe greuous plages vices are punished: and howe
frayle and vnstable worldly prosperitie is founde, even of those
whom Fortune seemeth most highly to fauour. Fœlix quem faciunt
aliena pericula cautum. Anno 1559. Londini, In ædibus Thomæ
Marshe. 92 leaves.
This title is in an architectural metal border, composed of[Pg xix] four
pieces. After the Epistle inscribed by the editor William
Baldwin, to the Nobility, and his Brief Memorial addressed to the
Reader, follow nineteen legends, viz:
Several of these lives have always been printed without signatures,
and, from want of a knowledge of other claimants, are conjecturally
supposed to be written by Baldwin. A slight authority for
this appropriation is found in the Epistle before the[Pg xx] continuation of
the work in the next edition, in the observation: “I have nowe also
set furth another parte conteynynge as litle of myne owne, as the
fyrst doth of other mens.” With no better testimony, ten of the lives,
distinguished above with asterisks, are attributed to his pen, while
in another place Baldwin makes questionable his own title. The passage
alluded to is found in the preface, and has been hitherto passed over
unnoticed. He says: “The numbre of seauen, were through a generall
assent at one apoynted time and place, gathered together, to deuise
thereupon; (and, he adds) I resorted vnto them.”[23] After this formal
annunciation of a company consisting of eight persons, including the
Editor, given at the head of the volume, may we not expect
to find, that each was a contributor? Yet in the above list, are only
six names, viz: Ferrers, Cavil, Chaloner,
Phaer, Baldwin, and Skelton; and the last
doubtful, as he died as early as 1529; and Baldwin repeats the lines
from memory. Perhaps this difficulty may be avoided by adding to the
five certain names those of Sackville, Dolman, and
Segar; concluding that the Editor had received their
assurance of articles in time for another edition, and which are found
inserted in the next accordingly. No other name interferes with this
disposition, except that of Churchyard, whose communication
of Shore’s Wife was no sooner read, than Baldwin observes:
“all together exhorted me instantly to procure Maister Churchyarde to
vndertake and to penne as manye moe of the remaynder as myght by any
meanes be attaynted at his handes.” This presumptively shows that the
author was not enumerated as one of the company.
All that can be gleaned from the intermediate prose, upon this subject,
is very inconclusive and unsatisfactory. For example, there being no
man ready at the meeting,[24] Baldwin said: “I will somewhat doe my
part, I will, under your correction, declare the tragedy of Thomas
Mowbray, duke of Northfolk.” And to this life, in edition 1571,
“T. Ch.” is added, the signature of Sir T. Chaloner.
Again, at p. 77, Ferrers is staid by one who briefly said:
“To the end, Baldwin, that you may know what[Pg xxi] to say of the
Percies,—I will take upon me the person of the Lord Henry Percy,” &c.
and this is left without signature, and given to Baldwin.
Similar at p. 102, where the Speaker adopting king James, concludes
“mark, Baldwin, what I think he may say,” and which also, as
wanting signature, has the same appropriation. Several others are
contradictory, as being delivered in the person of one of the company,
and since assigned to the Editor, by whose indolence, perhaps, in not
altering the conversations to suit the fact, after public approbation
extinguished the desire of secrecy, and real signatures were added,
much of this complexity arises.
A Myrrovr for Magistrates—Anno 1563. Imprinted at London in
Fletestrete nere to Saynct Dunstans Churche by Thomas Marshe.
178 leaves.
This title in the same border as before. In addition to the contents of
the preceding article, this has the original Induction by Sackville;
and the eight following legends, as a second part, viz.
20.
Rivers
by
Baldwin.
21.
Hastings
Dolman.
Induction
Sackville.
22.
Buckingham
Sackville.
23.
Collingborn
Baldwin.
24.
Richard III.
Segar.
25.
Jane Shore
Churchyard.
26.
Somerset
*Baldwin.
27.
The Blacksmith
Cavyll.
As well in this as the prior edition, there is a lapse in numbering the
folio from xlviii to lix.[25] The other edition is printed on a better
paper, and with clearer ink; abounds less in press errors; and has not
such frequent inaccuracies in the numbering, though they correspond
in leaves to fol. Lxxxv, sig. k i, where “endeth the first parte”
in this edition. The opening prose, or conversation, of the second
part is addressed to the reader, by Baldwin, in whose hands
Ferrers is described, as placing all[Pg xxii] he had brought, having
business great and weighty to attend, and knowing he could “do it well
inough:” And “dyuers of the rest lykyng hys deuyse, vsed the lyke
maner.” The whole controul of this first edition of the second part was
evidently given to Baldwin.
At folio Cxvi, or sig. P iii, is the unusual circumstance of a variance
being made in two instances, while printing, and here given as they
stand in two different copies:
One has:
The Induction.
The tapets torne, and euery blome downe blowen.
The other:
Mayster Sackuilles Induction.
The tapets torne, and euery tree downe blowen.
The effect is considered in Vol. II. p. 309. At the end of the volume
is a leaf with “The ¶ contes and Table of the first parte of this
Booke. ¶ A prose to the Reader, continued betwene the tragedies from
the beginning of the booke to the ende. Tragedies beginning,” &c. as it
stands in the former edition; and on the next page Ҧ The Contentes of
the second parte. ¶ A Prose to the Reader continued through the booke.
Complayntes beginning,” &c. Another leaf has “Faultes escaped in the
Printing,” which fill two pages.
A Myrrovr for Magistrates.—Newly corrected and augmented.
Anno 1571. Fœlix, &c. Imprinted at London by Thomas
Marshe dwellynge in Fleetstreete, neare vnto S. Dunstanes
Churche.[26] 174 leaves.
This edition only varies in the arrangement from the preceding, by
the life of the Duke of Somerset being transposed to fall in
chronological order. The addition of the signatures of several of the
authors, gives a peculiar value to this impression.
[Pg xxiii]
The first parte of the Mirour for Magistrates, containing the
falles of the first infortunate Princes of this lande: From the
comming of Brute to the incarnation of our sauiour and redemer
Iesu Christe. Ad Romanos. 13. 2. Quisquis se opponit potestati,
Dei ordinationi resistit. Imprinted at London by Thomas Marshe.
Anno 1574. Cum Priuilegio. Eights, Sig. K ii. Fol. 74.
Introduction 6 leaves.
This is the best legitimate attempt to enlarge the work published by
Baldwin; and the date of the first edition has escaped the research of
modern bibliographers.[27] To the Title succeeds the Table of Contents
on one leaf; the Epistle dedicatory to the nobility, and the address
to the reader. The Authour’s Induction imitates that by Sackville,
and is followed by sixteen legends, the sole production of John
Higgins.[28]
[Pg xxiv]
Their names follow, viz:
1.
Albanact.
9.
Bladud.
2.
Humber.
10.
Cordila.
3.
Locrinus.
11.
Morgan.
4.
Elstride.
12.
Forrex.
5.
Sabrine.
13.
Porrex.
6.
Madan.
14.
Kimarus.
7.
Malin.
15.
Morindus.
8.
Mempricius.
16.
Nennius.
[Pg xxv]
At the end of Nennius the address of “the Author” concludes with the
fifth Stanza:[29]
And keepe, maintaine and celebrate his praise:
VVich graunted, all they vanisht quite their wayes.
Viuit post funera virtus.
Finis que Iohn Higgins.
The last parte of the Mirour for Magistrates, wherein may
be seene by examples passed in this Realme, with howe greuous
plagues, vices are punished in great Princes and Magistrates, and
howe frayle and vnstable worldly prosperitie is founde, where
Fortune[Pg xxvi] seemeth moste highly to fauour. Newly corrected and
amended. Fœlix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum. Imprinted
at London by Thomas Marshe. Anno. 1574. Cum Priuilegio. 168
leaves.
A copy having a title page with the above date is as rare as the
preceding article. The particular description, with which it is
mentioned in a note by Warton, seemed to make its existence certain,
although there was not wanting reason for disbelief on the occasion.
Even that writer considered it “improperly entitled The Last
Parte,” the existence of our preceding article not being then known.
The Contents are the same as edition 1571.
The first parte of the Mirour for Magistrates.—Imprinted at
London by Thomas Marshe. Anno 1575. Cum Priuilegio. 80 leaves.
This is an accurate reprint of the first edition, with an enlargement
of “the Author,” at the end of Nennius, by the addition of Eleven
Stanzas, and another legend concluding the volume, viz:
17
Irenglass.
The last parte of the Mirour for Magistrates.—Imprinted at
London by Thomas Marshe. Anno 1575. Cum Priuilegio.
This is the edition of 1574, a circumstance that accounts for it being
so little known in the original state. The part by Higgins, when it
first appeared, no doubt found a rapid demand from those who possessed
a copy of that by Baldwin; and therefore in the present instance an
altered title, wherein a new date was substituted,[30] served to keep
time with the second edition of the part by Higgins.
[Pg xxvii]
The first part of the Mirour for Magistrates.—Imprinted for Thomas Marshe. 1578.
Mentioned by Ritson in the Bibliographia Poetica, p. 243, and
also in a manuscript list made by him of all the editions. It is stated
to have contained, as before, seventeen legends. I have never seen it.
The Last part of the Mirour for Magistrates.—Imprinted at
London in Fleetstreete, neere vnto Sainct Dunstanes Church, by
Thomas Marsh. 1578. Cum Priuilegio. 190 leaves.
Two additional legends were introduced, viz:
28.
Dame Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester.
Ferrers.
29.
Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester.
Ferrers.
In the table of Contents to the edition of 1559, there is entered:
“Good Duke Humfry murdered, and Eleanor Cobham his wife banished,”
though no articles appear of that nature in the order of reference.
What occasioned them to be deferred, it would be in vain now to
inquire, or conjecture.
The Seconde part of the Mirrour for Magistrates, conteining
the falles of the infortunate Princes of this Lande. From
the Conquest of Cæsar, vnto the comyng of Duke William the
Conquerour. Imprinted by Richard Webster, Anno Domini. 1578.
72 leaves.
This title is in an elegant architectural compartment, supported by
crouching satyrs, and having upon the sill “Goe straight and feare not.”
It contains 12 legends, viz:
1.
Guidericus.
7.
Sigebert.
2.
Carassus.
8.
Lady Ebbe.
3.
Hellina.
9.
Alurede.
4.
Vortiger.
10.
Egelrede.
5.
Pengragon.
11.
Edricus.
6.
Cadwallader.
12.
Harold.
[Pg xxviii]
The whole was the production of Thomas Blenerhasset, and
was, if we may believe the printer’s epistle, published without the
knowledge or sanction of the author. In that epistle the writer speaks
of “findyng a booke already in print, entituled, The first and
third part of the Mirrour for Magistrates;” which appears only a
convenient alteration of the two titles already given, there not being
any edition distinguished as the Third part.
The Mirour for Magistrates, wherein may be seene, by examples
passed in this Realme, with how greeuous plagues vices are
punished in great Princes and Magistrates, and how fraile and
vnstable worldly prosperity is found, where Fortune seemeth
most highly to fauour: Newly imprinted, and with the addition
of diuers Tragedies enlarged. At London in Fleetstreete, by
Henry Marsh, being the assigne of Thomas Marsh. 1587. Cvm
privilegio. 283 leaves.
A short preface, grounded upon the prefatory epistle of 1574, is
substituted for that, and followed by a metrical address from
Thomas Newton to the reader. Some additional legends by
Higgins are introduced in the body of the work; and several
others in continuance. Their titles are
18.
Jago.
30.
Hamo.
19.
Pinnar.
31.
Drusus.
20.
Stater.
32.
Domitius.
21.
Rudache.
33.
Galba.
22.
Brennus.
34.
Otho.
23.
Emerianus.
35.
Vitellius.
24.
Chirinnus.
36.
Londricus.
25.
Varianvs.
37.
Severus.
26.
Caesar.
38.
Frelgentius.
27.
Nero.
39.
Geta.
28.
Caligula.
40.
Caracella.
29.
Guiderius.
On the reverse of folio 108, commences the Part edited by
Baldwin. The brief Memorial to the reader is given; and the[Pg xxix]
29 legends already named with the addition of four, viz:
30.
Burdet. Higgins.
32.
Flodden Field. Dingley.
31.
James IV.
33.
Wolsey. Churchyard.
The productions of Baldwin and Higgins are here
united with additional matter and corrections; and this being the last
printed by either of the original editors, may be characterised, and
has been now adopted, as the STANDARD EDITION.
A Mirovr for Magistrates: Being a trve chronicle historic
of the vntimely falles of such vnfortvnate Princes and men of
note, as haue happened since the first entrance of Brute into
this Iland, vntill this our latter Age. Newly enlarged with a
last part, called A Winter night’s Vision, being an addition of
such Tragedies, especially famous, as are exempted in the former
Historie, with a Poem annexed, called England’s Eliza. At London
Imprinted by Felix Kyngston. 1610.
The Falles of Vnfortvnate Princes. Being a trve chronicle
historic of the vntimely death of such vnfortunate Princes and
men of Note, as haue happened since the first entrance of Brvte
into this Iland, vntill this our latter Age. Wherevnto is added
the famovs life and death of Qveene Elizabeth, with a declaration
of all the Warres, Battels and Sea-fights, during her Raigne:
wherein at large is described the Battell of 88. with the
particular seruice of all such Ships, and men of note in that
action. Contre fortune nul ne peut. At London, Imprinted by F.
K. for William Aspley, and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls
Churchyard at the Signe of the Parrot. 1619. also 1621. 448
leaves.
Both titles are found to the same edition. The last appears an attempt
to new vamp the remainder of an unsaleable and justly depreciated
article. A large part of the volume is formed from the labours of
Higgins, Blenerhasset, and Baldwin, and reprinted on the laudable plan
of collecting them together, by Richard Niccols. Unfortunately
the original spirit and character[Pg xxx] is materially affected, if
not destroyed, by his choosing to omit all intermediate matter
between the legends, whether prose or verse: for the L’envoy
of Higgins, and conversations of Blenerhasset and
Baldwin are alike rejected. And his total want of respect for
the original text, in addition to a false taste in remodelling it to
please his own ear and fancy, has scarcely left a Legend that does not
exhibit specimens of this unwarrantable liberty:[31] indeed it has long
been known that the only value his collection now retains, is for that
part completed by his own pen, which forms the remainder of the volume.
His own explanatory advertisement may be preserved here; it is addressed
To the Reader.
“To acquaint you in briefe with what is done in this impression:
know that the verse is in proportion by measure, and in symphonie
or rithmos, in diuers places amended; the storie in some places
false and corrupted, made historically true; the tragedies
wrongly inserted, disposed in their proper places, according to
iust computation of time; those neuer before collected in one
volume, published in this impression: for the forme and frame of
the whole historie I did intend to haue reduced it into the same
order, which I haue obserued in my Additions; but preuented by
other occasions, I haue thus digested it. The tragedies from the
time of Brute to the Conquest I haue left, with dependencie vpon
that Induction written by M. Higins: Those from the Conquest to
this our last age, that is, to the fall of the Lord Cromwell,
excellently well penned by M. Drayton, hath reference to that
golden Preface called M. Sackuil’s Induction. After these I haue
placed my Additions, the falles of such Princes as were before
omitted, and my Poem or Hymne of the late dead Queene of famous
memorie. In all which I require no other gratification for my
pains, but a gentle censure of my imperfections.”
[Pg xxxi]
Niccols in the first division gives the forty legends by John
Higgins, and ten of those by Thomas Blenerhasset, the two
of Guiderius and Alurede being rejected. Then a new title:
The variable Fortvne and vnhappie falles of svch Princes
as hath happened since the Conquest. Wherein may be seene the
instabilitie and change of state in great Personages. At London,
Imprinted by Felix Kyngston. 1609.
Prefixed to this part is a short prose address from the Editor on his
following the supposed plan of Sackville, by placing the Induction at
the beginning as a prefatory poem. He has retained twenty-nine of the
legends of Baldwin, and others, already noticed, omitting
for reasons not assigned the following four; Richard Duke of
Gloucester, James Ist and IVth, and the Battle of Flodden
Field: and adding that of Lord Cromwell by Michael
Drayton.
These reprints occupy 548 pages; the remainder of the volume is
original, and in two divisions.
A Winter nights vision: being an addition of svch princes
especially famous, who were exempted in the former Historie. By
Richard Niccols, Oxon. Mag. Hall. At London Imprinted by Felex
Kyngston, 1610.
Dedicatory sonnet to the Earl of Nottingham, prose address to the
reader, The Induction, and ten legends, viz:
1.
Arthur.
6.
K. Richard I.
2.
Edmund Ironside.
7.
K. John.
3.
Alfred.
8.
K. Edward II.
4.
Godwin.
9.
K. Edward V. and brother.
5.
Robert Curthose.
10.
K. Richard III.
England’s Eliza: or the victoriovs and Trivmphant reigne of
that virgin Empresse of sacred Memorie, Elizabeth, Queene of
England, France and Ireland, &c. At London Imprinted by Felix
Kyngston. 1610.
Dedicatory sonnet to Lady Elizabeth Clere, a prose advertisement, The
Induction, and the poem of England’s Eliza.
[Pg xxxii]
The Mirror for Magistrates.
In Five Parts, 1815.
Above three years have elapsed since the present edition was projected.
It was then intended to form one of a series of reprints of poetical
works of the Elizabethan æra that had ceased to be attainable, though
entitled by merit to be rescued from undeserved obscurity, and was
to have been attached to a periodical work, which has now ceased its
circulation.
To select so voluminous a performance as the Mirror for
Magistrates might appear extraordinary, had not a more complete
edition than has hitherto appeared, been long wanted. A want, which, as
the work combined the desultory productions of many writers, and was
interspersed with incidental narrative in prose, could not, although
a national poem, be supplied by any collection of the English poets.
It is true that Sackville’s Induction and the Legend of Buckingham
may be found in Dr. Anderson’s collection: but this was a partial
appropriation rather fitting the Elegant Extracts, than a
Complete Edition of the English poets, from which such a fragment
was of course displaced. There was also wanted a certain list of the
many editions, with their various additions: what laboured research had
not hitherto supplied, for even the critical and valuable examination
of the work by Warton, was known, from the references, to have several
errors.
The hallowed voice of 'elden’ critics[32] was uniform in its favour;
and to that might be joined the opinion of several literary[Pg xxxiii] friends,
who, on the subject being first agitated, by their assistance made the
difficulties that appeared unsurmountable, vanish. It is now comprised
in two volumes and five parts, as follows:
Part I.—Sixth Edition:
by John Higgins,[33] is reprinted from the standard
edition of 1587 collated with those of 1575, and 1610; and contains
In prose.—The Epistle Dedicatory.—*I. Higgins to the
Reader.—*A Preface to the Reader.—In verse:—Thomas Newton to
the Reader.—The Author’s Induction.—Legends:
1.
Albanact.
21.
Emerianus.
2.
Humber.
22.
Chirinnus.
3.
Locrinus.
23.
Varianus.
4.
Elstride.
24.
Nennius.
5.
Sabrine.
25.
Irenglass.
6.
Madan.
26.
Cæsar.
7.
Malin.
27.
Nero.
8.
Mempricius.
28.
Caligula.
9.
Bladud.
29.
Guiderius.
10.
Cordila.
30.
Homo.
11.
Morgan.
31.
Drusus.
12.
Jago.
32.
Domitius.
13.
Forrex.
33.
Galba.
14.
Porrex.[Pg xxxiv]
34.
Otho.
15.
Pinnar.
35.
Vitellius.
16.
Stater.
36.
Londricus.
17.
Rudacke.
37.
Severus.
18.
Brennus.
38.
Fulgentius.
19.
Kimarus.
39.
Geta.
20.
Morindus.
40.
Caracalla.
Niccols rejected the matter distinguished above with an asterisk, and
also the intermediate verses as “L’envoy” that connected the legends,
which are now restored; and in the notes are given the variations, as
originally printed, under the title of “the authour.” Of the legends
No. 9, 13, and 14, the notes contain those as printed in the first
edition.
Part II. Third Edition:
by Thomas Blenerhasset,[34] from the edition of 1578,
collated with that of 1610. Contains
*The Printer to the Reader.—*The Authour’s Epistle unto[Pg xxxv] his
friends.—Legends:
To the further omissions of Niccols in this part, distinguished as
before, may be added the intermediate conversations, in their original
text, which are here restored.
Parts IV. and V.—Second Edition:
by Richard Niccols,[50] containing A Winter’s Night’s
Vision, and England’s Eliza, are from the edition of 1610.
[Pg xlv]
Such is the analysis of the following volumes, of which the bulk
required some historical matter, intended for notes, to be suppressed.
No single library could be expected to contain the many editions used
in collation; and copies inspected, of value in other[Pg xlvi] respects.
The indulgent loan of those stores claims the acknowledgement of my
obligation to Mr. Heber, Mr. Douce, the Hon. Mr. Nassau, Mr. Utterson,
and Mr. Gilchrist. The like is due to my friend Sir Egerton Brydges,
from whom I have also derived much valuable assistance in the course of
the undertaking.
Only one hundred and fifty copies are printed beyond the number
demandable under a late Act of Parliament; and let it be recorded, that
the work was put to press long before that censurable measure was in
agitation, whereby it falls with all the weight and injustice of an
ex post facto law upon the proprietors.
24 How the worthie Britaine Duke Nennius, as a valiaunt soldier and faithfull subiecte, encountred with Iulius Cæsar, and was by him death wounded. Ant. C. 52. Higgins
39 How Geta the yonger sonne of the Emperour Seuerus once Gouernour of Britayne, was slayne in his mother’s armes, by his brother Antonine Emperour of Rome. A. D. 214. Higgins
41 How Guidericus refused to paye tribute vnto Claudius Cæsar: how he subdued Galba: how hee became desirous 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. Blenerhasset
42 How Carrassus a Husbandman’s son, slewe Lodrike the King of the Pictes, and howe the Emperour made him a captayne. Then howe he obtayned the Britayne crowne and how suspition brought him to decay. A. D. 293. Blenerhasset
44 How Vortiger destroyed the young King Constantine, and howe he obtyned the crowne: & how after many miseries he was miserably burnt in his Castle by the brethren of Constantine. A. D. 446. Blenerhasset
46 How Cadwallader the last King of the Britaynes, after he had behaued very valiantly against the Saxons, resigned his crowne, and went to Rome, where he liued in a religious house. Blenerhasset
51 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. D. 1018. Blenerhasset
52 How King Harrold raynyng but niene monthes had continuall warre with the Danes, with the Norway King, with his brother Tosto, and with Duke William, who partely by hys strength but chiefly by policie, ouercame hym, and by killyng him in the feelde obteyned the kingdome of England. A. D. 1095. Blenerhasset
53 The falle of Robert Tresilian Chiefe Iustice of England, and other his fellowes, for misconstruing the Lawes, and expounding them to serue the Prince’s affections. A. D. 1388. G. Ferrers
13
54 How the two Rogers surnamed Mortimers for their sundry vices ended their liues vnfortunately, the one An. 1329, the other 1387. Cavil
23
55 How Syr Thomas of Woodstocke Duke of Glocester, vncle to King Richarde the seconde, was vnlawfully murdered. A. D. 1397. G. Ferrers
33
56 How the Lord Mowbrey, promoted by King Richard the second to the state of a Duke, was by him banished the Realme, in 1398, and after died miserablie in exile. Sir Thomas Chaloner
44
57 How King Richard the second was for his euill gouernance deposed from his seat, 1399, and murdered in prison. G. Ferrers
56
58 How Owen Glendour seduced by false prophecies tooke vpon him to bee Prince of Wales, and was by Henry Prince of England chased to the mountaynes, where hee miserably died for lack of food. A. D. 1401. Thomas Phaer
65
59 How Henrie Percy Earle of Northumberland, was for his couetous and trayterous attempt put to death at Yorke. A. D. 1407. Attributed to Baldwin
78
60 How Richard Plantagenet Earle of Cambridge, intending[Pg liii] the Kings destruction, was put to death at Southhampton. A. D. 1415. Attributed to Baldwin
86
61 How Thomas Montague Earle of Salisbury, in the middest of his glory was chaunceably slayne at Orleaunce with a piece of Ordinaunce. A. D. 1428. Attributed to Baldwin
90
62 Howe King Iames the first for breaking his othes and bondes was by God’s sufferaunce miserably murdered of his owne subiectes. A. D. 1437. Attributed to Baldwin
103
63 How Dame Eleanor Cobham Duchesse of Glocester, for practising of Witchcraft and sorcery suffred open penaunce, and after was banished the realme into the Ile of Man. Ferrers
112
64 How Humfrey Plantagenet Duke of Glocester, Protector of England, during the minority of his nephue King Henry the sixt, commonly called the good Duke, by practise of enemyes was brought to confusion. Ferrers
128
65 How Lord William de la Pole Duke of Suffolke, was worthely banished for abusing his King, and causing the destruction of the good Duke Humfrey A. D. 1450. Baldwin
147
66 How Iacke Cade naming himselfe Mortimer, trayterously rebelling against his King, was for his treasons and cruell doinges worthily punished. A. D. 1450. Baldwin
157
67 The tragedye of Edmund Duke of Somerset, slayne in the first battayle at St. Albons, in the 32. yeare of Henry the sixt. A. D. 1454. Ferrers
168
68 Howe Richarde Plantagenet Duke of York, was slayn through his ouer rash boldnesse, and his sonne the Earle of Rutland for his lacke of valiaunce. A. D. 1460
184
69 How the Lorde Clyfford for his straunge and abhominable cruelty, came to as straunge and sodayn a death. A. D. 1461. Attributed to Baldwin
195
70 The infamovs end of Lord Tiptoft Earle of Worcester, for cruelly executing his Prince’s butcherly commaundements. A. D. 1470. Attributed to Baldwin
201
71 How Sir Richard Neuill Earle of Warwicke, and his brother Iohn, Lord Marquise Montacute, through their too much boldnesse were slaine at Barnet. A. D. 1471. Attributed to Baldwin
210[Pg liv]
72 How King Henry the sixte a vertuous Prince, was after many other miseries cruelly murdered in the Tower of London. A. D. 1471. Attributed to Baldwin
217
73 How George Plantagenet third sonne of the Duke of Yorke, was by his brother King Edward wrongfully imprisoned, and by his brother Richard miserably murdered. A. D. 1478. Attributed to Baldwin
226
74 How King Edward the fourth through his surfeting &, vntemperate life, sodaynly dyed in the middest of his prosperity. A. D. 1483. Skelton
244
75 How Syr Anthony Wooduile Lord Riuers and Scales, Gouernour of Prince Edward, was with his nephue Lord Richard Gray and others causelesse imprisoned, and cruelly murthered. A. D. 1483. Attributed to Baldwin
249
76 How the Lord Hastings was betraied by trusting too much to his euill counsellour Catesby, and villanously murdered in the Tower of London by Richard Duke of Glocester. A. D. 1483. Dolman
275
MAYSTER SACKUILLE’S INDUCTION
309
77 The complaynt of Henry Duke of Buckingham. Sackville
333
78 How Colingbourne was cruelly executed for making a foolish Rime. Attributed to Baldwin
366
79 How Richarde Plantagenet Duke of Glocester murdered his brother’s children,
vsurping the crowne, and in the third yeare of his raigne was most worthely depriued of life
and kingdome, in Bosworth plaine, by Henry Earle of Richmond after called King Henry the VII. A. D. 1485. Segar
381
80 The wilfvll fall of the Blackesmith, and the foolishe end of the Lorde Audley A. D. 1496. Cavill
396
81 How the valiant Knight Sir Nicholas Burdet, Chiefe Butler of Normandy, was slayne at Pontoise. A. D. 1441. Higgins
418
82 The Lamentation of King Iames the fourth, King of Scots, slayne at Brampton in the fifthe yeare of King Henry the eight. A. D. 1513.
442
83 The Bataile of Brampton, or Floddon fielde, faught in the[Pg lv] yeare of our Redeemer 1513, and in the fifth yeare of the raygne of that victorious prince King Henry the eyght. Dingley
449
84 How Shore’s wife, King Edward the fourth’s Concubine, was by King Richard despoyled of her goods, and forced to doe open penaunce. Churchyard
461
85 How Thomas Wolsey did arise vnto great authority and gouernment, his maner of life, pompe and dignitie, & how hee fell downe into great disgrace, and was arested of high treason. Churchyard
484
86 How the Lord Cromwell exalted from meane estate, was after by the enuie of the Bishop of Winchester and other his complices brought to vntimely end. A. D. 1540. Drayton
502
PART IV.
(The remainder of the volume by Richard Niccols)
Dedicatory Sonnet to the Earl of Nottingham
543
To the reader
544
The Induction
546
87 The famovs life and death of King Arthur
553
88 The life and death of King Edmvnd svrnamed Ironside
583
89 The lamentable life and death of Prince Alfred brother to King Edmund Ironside
605
90 The treacherous life and infamovs death of Godwin Earle of Kent
622
91 The life and death of Robert svrnamed Curthose Duke of Normandie
639
92 The memorable life and death of King Richard the first, surnamed Cœur de Lion
673
93 The vnfortvnate life and death of King Iohn
699
94 The wofvll life and death of King Edward the second
726
95 The lamentable lives and deaths of the two yong Princes, Edward the fifth and his brother Richard Duke of York
766
96 The tragicall life and death of King Richard the third
785
97 The Poem annexed called England’s Eliza
813[Pg lvi]
PART V.
Dedicatory sonnet to Lady Elizabeth Clere
817
Advertisement to the Reader
818
The Induction
819
98 Englands Eliza, or the victoriovs and trivmphant reigne of that virgin Empresse of sacred memorie, Elizabeth Queene of England France and Ireland &c.
828
[Pg 3]
Loue and liue.
To the nobility and all other in office, God graunt the increase of
wisedome, with all thinges necessary for preseruation of theyr estates.
Amen.
Amongste the wise (right Honorable) whose sentences (for the moste
parte) tende either to teache the attayning of vertue or eschuing of
vice,
Plotinus.Plotinus that wonderfull and excellent Philosopher hath
these wordes: The property of Temperaunce is to couet nothing which
may be repented: not to excede the bands of measure, & to kepe Desire
vnder the yoke of Reason. Whiche saying if it were so well knowen,
as it is nedefull; so well embraced, as is[53] wished; or so surely
fixed in minde, as it is printed in his workes: then certis many
Christians might by the instruction of an Ethnicke Philosopher, shun
great and daungerous perils. For to couet without consideration, to
passe the measure of his degree, and to let will run at randon, is
the only destruction of all estates. Else howe were it possible, so
many learned, polliticke, wise, renoumed, valiaunt, and victorious
personages, might euer haue come to such vtter decay? For example,
wee haue[54]Quintus Curtius.Alexander the Great, Cæsar, Pompey,
Cyrus, Hannibal, &c. All which (by desier of glorye)
felte the reward of theire immoderate and insatiable lustes: for if
Alexander had beene content with Macedonie, or not beene pufte
vp with pride after his triumphes, hee had neuer beene so miserably
poysoned. If Cæsar and Pompey had beene satisfied with
theire victories, and
[Pg 4]
had not fell to ciuill discention, the one had not beene slaine in
the senate with daggers, nor the other abroade, by their frendes
procurement.
Iustinus lib. 1.
If Cyrus had beene pleased with all Persia, and
Media, and not thirsted for bloud, hee had neuer com to so infortunate
a fall.
Plutarchus.
So if Hanniball had not so much
Liuius.
delited in glorye of
warfare, his countrey had neyther fell in ruine,
Polibius.
nor hee bene miserably
forced to poyson himselfe. But you will say, desire of fame, glorye,
renowne, and immortalitie (to which all men well nighe by[55] nature
are inclined, especially those which excell or haue any singuler gift
of fortune or[56] the body) moued them to such daungerous, great, and
hardy enterprises, which must needes be confessed[57] as an infallible
veritie: and therefore I suerly[58] deeme those Princes aboue specified
(considering their[59] fortunes, fame, and exploytes) had neuer come to
suche ende, but for wante of temperance. And now[60] sithe there are
three other Cardinall vertues which are requisite in him that should
bee in authoritye: that is to saye, Prudence, Iustice, and Fortitude,
which so wonderfully adorne and beautifie all estates (If Temperaunce
bee with them adioyned, that they moue the very enemies with admiration
to prayse them) some peraduenture (as affection leades) will commende
one, some another:
Arist.Cicero.Prudence.
as[61]Aristotle the Prince of Philosophers
names
Prudence, the mother of vertues, but[62]Cicero defines
her the knowledge of things which ought to bee desired and followed,
and also of them which ought to bee fled and eschewed; yet you shall
finde that for want of Temperaunce, some which were counted very
wise[63] fell into wonderfull reproche and infamy. But[64] Iustice that
incomparable vertue, (as the auncient Ciuilians define her) is[65] a
perpetuall and constant will
[Pg 5]which giueth to euery man his right, yet if shee be not constant,
which is the gifte of Fortitude; nor equal in discerning right from
wrong, wherein is Prudence; nor vse proportion in iudgement and
sentence, which pertayneth to Temperaunce: shee can neuer bee called
equitie or iustice, but fraude, deceite, iniustice and iniurie. And,
to speake of
Fortitude. Cicero.
Fortitude, which Cicero defineth, a consyderate
vndertaking of perills, and enduring of labours; if he whome wee
suppose stoute, valiaunt, and of good courage, want Prudence, Iustice,
or Temperaunce, he is not counted wise, righteous and constant, but
sottish, rude and desperate. For
Cicero. Temperance.
Temperaunce (sayth Cicero)
is of reason[66] in lust and other euel assaultes of the minde, a
suer and moderate dominion & rule. This noble vertue is deuided into
three[67] partes, that is Continency, Clemencie, and Modestye, which
well[68] obserued and kept (if grace bee to them adioyned) it is
impossible for him that is endued with the aboue named vertues euer
to fall into the infortunate snares of calamity, or misfortune. But
Ambition which is immoderate[69] desire of honour, rule, dominion,
and superioritie, (the very distruction of nobility and common
weales, as among the Romanes; Sylla, Marius, Carbo, Cinna, Cateline,
Pompey, and Cæsar, are witnesses) hath brought great decay to[70] our
contrey, and countreymen. Which Master Baldwin hath so touched[71] in
his Epistle of the laste[72] volume of this booke, that I nede not
therewith deale any further.[73] I haue here (right honorable) in this
booke[74] only reproued foly in those which are heedelesse: Iniurie
in extortioners, rashnes in venterers, [Pg 6][trecherie in traytours,
riote in rebelles,][75] and excesse in such as suppresse not vnruly
affections. Now[76] I truste you will so thinke of it (althoughe the
style deserue not like commendation) as you thought of the other parte.
Which if you shall, I doubt not but it may pleasure some; if not, yet
geue occasion to others which can do better, either to amend these, or
to publish their owne.[77] And thus wishing you Prudence to discerne
what is meete for your callings, Iustice in the administration of your
functions, Fortitude in the defence of your Countrey, and Temperaunce
in moderation of all your affections, with increase of honours, and
euerlasting felicity: I bid you in Christ Iesu farewell.[78] At
Winceham the vii. day of December.
“Amongst diuers and sondry chronicles of many nations, I thinke there
are none (gentle reader) so vncertaine and brief in the beginning as
ours: at which I cannot but maruayle, sith at all tymes our Ilande had
as learned wryters (some singuler men excepted) as any nation vnder the
sunne. Againe, those which now are our best chroniclers as they report,
haue great antiquities; but what they publish of late yeares may be
enlarged in many places by chronicles of other nacions: whereby it is
manifest they are either ignoraunt of the tongues, or els not giuen
to the studie of that, which they most professe. For if they were,
me-thinkes it were easie for them, with such antiquities as they brag
they haue, to fetche our histories from the beginning; and make them
as ample, as the chronicles of any other country or nation. But they
are faine, in steede of other stuffe, to talk of the Romains, Greekes,
Persians, &c. and to fill our histories with their facts and fables.
This I speake not to the end I wold have ours quite seperate from
other, without any mention of them; but I would haue them there only
named, where th’ affayres of both countries, by warre, peace, truce,
mariage, trafique, or some necessary cause or other, is intermixed.
I haue seen no auncient antiquities in written hand but two: one was
Galfridus of Munmouth, which I lost by misfortune; the other, an old
chronicle in a kind of Englishe verse, beginning at Brute and ending
at the death of Humfrey Duke of Gloucester; in the which, and diuers
other good chronicles, I finde many thinges not mentioned in that great
tome engroced[Pg 8] of late by Maister Grafton; and that, where he is most
barraine and wantes matter. But as the greatest heades, the grayest
hayres, and best clarkes, haue not most wytte; so the greatest bookes,
titles, and tomes, contayne not most matter. And this haue I spoken,
because in wryting the Tragedies of the first infortunate princes of
this Isle, I was often fayne to vse mine owne simple inuention, yet
not swaruing from the matter: because the chronicles (although they
went out vnder diuers men’s names) in some suche places as I moste
needed theyr ayde, wrate one thing, and that so brieflye, that a whole
prince’s raigne, life, and death, was comprysed in three lines; yea,
and sometimes mine olde booke, aboue mentioned, holpe mee out when
the rest forsoke mee. As for Lanquet, Stowe, and Grafton, [they] were
alwayes nighe of one opinion: but the Floure of Histories somewhat
larger: some helpe had I of an old chronicle imprinted the yeare 1515.
But surely methinkes, and so do most which delite in histories, it
were worthely done, if one chronicle wer drawne from the beginning in
such perfect sort, that al monuments of vertuous men (to the exalting
of God’s glory) and all punishments of vicious persons (to the terrour
of the wicked) might be registred in perpetuall remembraunce. To which
thing the right reuerende father in God Matthew [Parker] Archbishop of
Canterbury, and Metropolitane of Englande, hath brought such ayde, as
wel by printing as preseruing the written chronicles of this realme;
that by his grace’s studie and paynes, the labour, in tyme to come,
wil be farre more easy to them, that shall take such trauayle in hand.
But to leaue with these, and declare the cause of my purpose. As I
chaunced to reade the Mirour for Magistrates, a worke by all men
wonderfully commended, and full of fitte instructions for preseruation
of eche estate: taking in hand the chronicles and minding to conferre
the times, meethoughte the liues of a number euen at the beginning, the
like infortunate princes offered themselues vnto mee as matter very
meete for imitation, the like admonition,[Pg 9] miter, and phrase; and seing
Baldwine by these woordes moued mee somewhat thereto; It were (saith
hee) a goodly and a notable matter to searche and discourse our whole
storye from the beginning of the inhabiting of this Isle, &c. I read
the storyes, I considered of the princes, I noted their liues, and
therewith conferred their deathes. On this, I tooke penne in hande,
minding nothing lesse than to publishe them abroade, but onely to trye
what I could do if neede were, or time and leasure were giuen mee to
bestowe in such wyse. I wrote the twoo first, euen as they now are,
and because I would not kepe secrete my first labours in this kinde of
study (though I might well haue blushed at the basenes of my style) I
shewed them to a friend of myne, desiring his vnfayned iudgement in
this matter; which when he had read, he neuer left intreating me to
wryte other, til I had ended all to the byrth of Christ: and yet not
so content; he desired mee t’ accomplish the residue til I came to the
Conquest, (which were wel nighe fiftie Tragedies): but, wearied with
those which I had written, I desired him pause on this, till tyme and
leasure were giuen mee. Yet hee, making relation to other his frendes
what I had done, left mee not quiet till they likewyse had seene them:
whose perswasion, as it seemed without any suspition of assentation
or flattery, so hath it made mee bolder at this present then before.
“Although (sayd they) your Tragædies be simple, and not comparable
to those which the other before haue written; yet when men consider
that many wrote those, but one these; that they are
graue writers, you are but yong; the perfection of those stories, and
the imperfection of these: finally, the good wil you beare to your
country, the commendation of vertue, the detestation of vice, the
fal of ambition, the horrible end of traytours, harlots, tyrauntes,
adulterers, enchaunters, murderers, and such like; When men (said they)
consider these things, they cannot, (how simple soeuer your verse bee,)
but thinke well of the matter.” At length, with these perswasions[Pg 10]
and suche like, I was contente (good reader) to publishe them for thy
behoufe, and the publique weale of my countrye; at which if thou enuie,
I minde not therefore to enuie my selfe, and staye my penne. But (God
willing) thou shalt, as fast as I can prepare them, haue other bookes
from my handes, which maye please thee againe; and thus with all my
harte I bidde thee hartely farewell.
Aboute a twelue yeares since (gentle reader) when I tooke vpon mee
for exercise sake, only to make proofe in English verse what I could
do, & had read the Mirour for Magistrates which Maister Baldwins set
forth, (a booke both well penned and also well commended) I perused
the Chronicles, I noted the times, I conferred the Princes, and me
thought that a nomber euen at the firste inhabiting of this Islande,
offered them selues the like haplesse impes of Fortune, with matter
very meete for imitation, and like admonition, meeter and phrase. And
sith Maister Baldwine in these words of his preface moued mee somewhat
thereto: It were (sayth hee) a goodly and a notable mater to search,
and discours our whole storie from the beginning of the inhabiting of
this Isle, &c. I read agayne the stories, I considered of the Princes,
I noted theire liues, and therewith conferred their falles: on this I
tooke penne in hande, and wrote a fewe of the firste euen as they since
were imprinted, minding nothing lesse then to publish them abroade:
and because I woulde not keepe secret my first laboures in this kinde
of studie, (although I mighte haue blushed at the basenes of my
style) I shewed them to some frendes of myne, desired theire vnfayned
iudgementes herein, who not only perswaded mee that they were well, but
also desired mee to followe the same order till I came to the birth of
Christe: which when I had done, yet they willed mee to proceede with
the falles of the like vntill the conqueste, which I coulde not doe,
being called away by other studies of more importaunce, but the rest
which I wrot after that time and[Pg 12] at leisure since by the perswations
of some worshipfull, and my very good frendes; I haue here set downe,
and agayne corrected those which I wrot before, euen for the profit of
my natiue countrey. Now I desire thee (gentle reader) so well to accept
of my paynes and good will herein bestowed, as I was well willing by
this edition to doe thee ease, and pleasure. And so whishing thee the
feare of God, the loue of thy Prince and countrey, and after this lyfe
the fruition of perfecte felicitye, I doe bid thee hartely in Christe
Iesu farewell.
Their names and liues, their haps and haplesse dayes,
And by what meanes, from Fortunes wheele[107] they fell,
Which did them earst, vnto such honours rayse.
Wherewith the first not making moe delayes,
A noble Prince broade wounded brest[108] that bare
Drew neere, to tell the cause of all his care.
17.
Which when mee thought to speake hee might be bolde,[109]
Deepe from his breste hee threwe an vncouth[110] sounde:
I was amazde his gestures to beholde.
And bloud that freshly trickled from his wounde,
With Eccho so did halfe his wordes confounde,
That scarce a while the sence might playne appeare:
At last,[111] mee thought, hee spake as you shall heare.[112]
[Pg 21]
How King Albanact the Yongest Son of Brutus,[113] and First King of
Albany (now called Scotland) was slayne by king Humber, the yeere
before Christ, 1085.
Or forst them to flye: In the feelde wee were fayne
To resist[574] them (poore Prynces) and so wee were slayne.
13.
First Pinnar, then Stater, I Rudacke likewise
At last was with number oppressed dispatcht,
Let Lordings beware how aloft they doe rise,
[For] by Princes and commons theyr climing is watcht.
No sooner they haue at the scepter once snatcht,
But guilty themselues they deeme worthy to die,
And God’s iustice such sentence [t’accomplish] doth hie.
LENUOY.
1.
You see the end of rebelles here descride,
Entruders see whereto they haue to truste:
Their seat vnsure and slippery downe doth slide,
Their names are eaten out with cankerd ruste.
Theyr honours soone lay toumbling in the duste.
Wherefore I count them triple thrise and foure times blest,
Which prudently to serue their God and Prince are prest.
2.
Sith stories all doe tell in euery age
How these crowne croachers come to shamefull ends,
And how they shortely winne the woefull wage,
Which for uvniustice Ioua iustely sends:
[Pg 182]
Let hauty headstrong heede what hee pretends,
Sith hee aliue, in death, and after’s only blest,
Which prudently to serue his God and Prince is prest.
3.
But now behold, from Delphos next in place
A noble valiaunt Britayne there I vewde,
Of stature tall, well sett, of comely grace,
With body broysde, and armoure all embrewde.
His wounded breast my woefull hart berewde:
Whose life and death may proue contented wights are blest,
Which prudently to serue their God and Prince are prest.
[Pg 183]
How the noble King Brennus, after many triumphant
victories, at the seege of Delphos in Greece slew him selfe, about
the yeare before Christ, 375.[575]
1.
Amongste the noble martiall worthy men,
Renowned farre, victorious great of fame,
Though Autors sound my praise eftsoones agen
Emongst the Britayne Princes write the same:
I am that Britayne once that Brennus had to name,
My facts, exployts in warre, my conquests life and end,
Doe write as I recite, when time doth leasure lend.
By which I loste my health, life, realme and fame,
[Pg 224]
[My wealth, my crowne, my scepter, sheelde and name:]
And only wan the shrowding sheete of shame.
LENUOY.
1.
Of this bad vice who shall embrace the loue,
And not refraine him selfe there from by grace,
Let him bee sure it shall his sence remoue,
His beauty reaue, his facts and fame deface,
His wealth, strength, health, shall waste and were apace,
Hee cannot liue in health till hee bee olde,
Nor purchase health and sober fame againe with sowes[683] of golde.
2.
The Poets painted Bacchus naked, bare,
Because hee doth all secrets deepe disclose,
In woemen’s weede because men feebled are,
Effeminate them selues to wine dispose,
Like wanton childe likewise they faine hee goes,
As dronkerds wanton were though nere so olde,
Not wonne to sage and sober life with sowes of golde.
3.
But naked therefore I suppose hee’s faynde,
Because hee makes men naked, poore, and bare:
By him they waste away the wealth they gaynde,
And plunge them selues in seas of woefull care,
Or naked then of vertues all they are,
When they to Bacchus bend, both yong and olde,
Not wonne to sage and sober life, with sowes of gold.
[Pg 225]
4.
Who loues to liue a wise and godly life,
Let him refuse such naked gods to serue:
So shall he saue his fame auoyding strife,
And right report of all good men deserue.
But from my purpose lest I seeme to swerue:
There next me thought a Prince I did behold
Of vicious life, and thus his fates he did vnfold.
[Pg 226]
How King Varianvs gaue himselfe to the lustes of the flesh, and dyed
about the yeare before Christ, 136.[684]
1.
Where no good giftes haue place, nor beare the sway,
What are the men but wilful castaway?
Where gifts of grace doe garnish well the King,
There is no want, the land can lacke no thing:
The Court is stil well stor’d with noble [prudent] men,
In Townes and Cities Gouernours are graue:
[The lands are tild,] the common wealth doth prosper[685] then,
And wealth at will the Prince and people haue.
2.
Perhaps you aske, what Prince is this appeares?
What meanes his talke in these our golden yeares?
A Britayne Prince that Varianus hight,
I helde some time the [crowne and] scepter here by right:
And though no neede there be in these your [golden] dayes
Of states to tell, or vertues good discriue,
Good counsayle yet may after stand[686] in stead alwayes,
When time agayne may vices olde reuiue.
3.
If not: yet giue me leaue amongst the rest
Which felt the[687] fall, or had their deaths addrest:
My cause of fall let me likewise declare,
[Pg 227]
For falles the deathes of vicious Princes are:
They fal, when all good men reioyce to heare or see
That they short time enioyde their places hie,
For Princes which for [princely] vertues praysed bee,
By death arise extold, they scale the skie.
4.
I will be short because it may suffice
That soone is sayde, to warne the sage and wise:
Or if that they no warning neede to haue,
This may perchaunce somewhat their labour saue
With yonger heads, that will[688] not heare their faultes them tolde,
By such as would admonish them for loue:
When they my words and warnings here [of vice] beholde,
They may regarde and see their owne behoue.
5.
About my time the Princes liu’de not long,
For all were giuen almost to vice and wrong:
My selfe voluptuous was abandond quite,
To take in fleshly lust my whole delite:
A pleasure vile, that drawes a man from [all good] thrifte and grace,
Doth iust desires, and heauenly thoughtes expell:
Decayes the corps,[689] defiles the soule, [the factes] and fame deface,
And bringes him downe to Plutoe’s paynes of hell.
6.
For this my sinne my subiectes hated mee,
Repining still my stayned life to see:
As when the Prince is wholy giuen to vice,
And holdes the lewder sort in greatest price,
The land decayes, disorder [sprouts and] springes abroade,
The worser sort do robbe, pille, polle, and spoyle,
The weaker are constraynd to[690] beare the greatest loade,
And leese the goodes for which [full sore] they erst did toyle.
[Pg 228]
7.
How can Iehoua iust abide the wrong?
He will not suffer such haue scepter long.
As he did strike for sinfull life my seate,
And did me downe from royall kingdome beate,
So hath be done for aye, examples[691] are in stories rife,
No wicked wight can gouerne long in rest:
For eyther some [the like] bereaues him of his life,
Or downe his throne and kingdome is deprest.
Bid Princes then and noble Peeres the like delights detest.
There is no way the [iudgement high and] wrath of Ioue to wrest.
LENUOY.
1.
What should I longer on such Princes stay,
Whose factes vnworthie were to be enrolde:
The cause why thence I make more speede away,
Is for his sake, whose fame hath farre bene tolde,
That noble Nennius’ Duke, a captaine bolde,
Of royall bloud, to Prince and countrey kinde,
Whose fame a place aboue the skies shall finde.
2.
When he the feates of armes had learned well,
And coulde encounter with the best aliue,
Hee not to treason nor to falshode fell,
Nor with his ciuill friendes at home to striue:
But hence the landed Romaynes out to driue.
Which sith he did, to Prince and countrey kinde,
His fame a place aboue the skies shall finde.
[Pg 229]
3.
Eke sith the rest, as were their liues obscure,
Haue tolde their tales, but simply as you see:
To helpe my style, the Muses most demure,
For Nennius’ sake, gaue greater grace to mee,
Or else I thinke, frend Reader, t’was for thee,
That when thou readst of Nennius’ noble minde,
Thou maist be so to Prince and countrey kinde.
4.
I will no longer thee from reading stay,
But wish thee marke howe he exhorteth all:
Do learne by him for countreye’s sake to fray,
In peace no broyles of warres at home to brall:
And thinke thou seest that noble captayne tall
Thus wise display his warlike noble minde,
Duke Nennius, so to Prince and countrey kinde.
[Pg 230]
Howe the worthie Britaine Duke Nennius as a valiaunt souldier
and faithfull subiecte encountred with Iulius Cæsar, was by him
death wounded: yet naytheles[692] he gate Cæsar’s sworde,
put him to flight, slewe therewith Labianus a Tribune of the
Romaynes, endured fight till his countreymen wanne the field,
and now encourageth all good subiectes, to defende their countrey from
the power of forraine and entruding enemies. He was slaine about the
yeere before Christ, 52.
1.
I may by right some later writers blame,
Of stories olde, as rude or negligent:
Or else I may them wel vnlearned name,
Or heedlesse in those thinges about they went:
Some time on me as well they might haue spent,[693]
As on such traytours, tyrants, harlots, those
Which to their countreyes were the deadliest foes.[694]
Howe the Lord Irenglas cosen to king Cassibellane was slayne
by the Lord Elimine cosen to Androgeus Earle of
London, about the yeere before Christ, 51.
1.
Amongst the rest that whilome sate aloft,
Amongst the rest, that once had happie chaunce,
Amongst the rest, that had good Fortune oft,
Amongst the rest, that coulde themselues aduaunce,
Amongst the rest, that led in warres the staunce,[754]
And wanne the palme, the prayse, renowne, and fame,
[(Yet after fell in proofe to trye the same)]
Leaue in thy booke a place to put my name.
2.
[Which, Higgins, if thou shalt, and write therein
This tale I tell, no doubt thou shalt me please;
Thy selfe likewise thereby maist profit win;
For why, who writes such histories as these,
Doth often bring the Readers hearts such ease,
And[755] when they sitte, and see what he doth note,
Which rose from death, as Christians all confesse.
Thus wise he wrote:
Pontius Pilate to his Lorde Claudius wisheth health.
This letter is in Flores historiarum, but you may not
thinke that I doe set it downe thereby to affirme that he wrate it.
For I am perswaded he would not write so well, and yet it appears by
Orosius and others that Claudius would haue made Christ to haue bene
taken in Rome for a God, and that the Senate and he fell so at variance
about the same matter.
Of late it chaunst, which I haue proued well,
The Iewes through wrath by cruell doome haue lost
Themselues, and all their offspring that ensue.
For when their fathers promise had that God
Would send to them from heauen his holy one,
That might deseruingly be namde their King,
And [promist] by a virgine him to th’earth to sende,
The same (I pronoste here) when th’Hebrewes[911] God was come,
And they him saw restore the blind to sight,
To cleanse the leapers, cure the palsies eke,
To cast diuelles[912] out of men, and rayse the dead,
Commaund the windes, on sea with dry feete walke,
And many maruayles great beside to doe,
When all the Iewish people called[913] him the sonne of God,
The Chiefe Priestes enuying him deliuered him to mee,[914]
And bringing many forged fained faultes
[Pg 280]
Namde him a wisarde, and against[915] their lawes to doe:
And I beleeud it so to be, and whipt him[916] for the cause,
[Deliuering him to them to vse as they thought best.]
They crucifide him, buried him, [set keepers at] his tombe,
Yet he, while as my souldiers kept his graue,[917]
The third day rose againe, and came to life.
But so their hatreds bent, they[918] bribde the souldiers all,
And bad them say, that his disciples stale his corps away.[919]
The souldiers yet, when they the money [taken] had,
Could not the trueth keepe silent of the facte:
For both they witnessed that he was risen againe,
And of the Iewes, that [they so taken money had.
I therefore here so write to you, lest any othervvise
Some lye do bring, or thinke vve should beleeue of Iewes the lyes.[920]]
13.
These letters read, I did thereon conferre,
Both with the fathers graue in high degree,
And with the nobles of [the] Senate were,
That Christ in Rome as God might counted bee,
To which they onely did not disagree,
(Because the letters came not first to them)
But by edicte [from Rome] did banish[921] Christen men.
14.
To th’ accusers of them threaten[922] death I did,
Although Seianus from my party fell
The Senate which the Christians sought to rid,
By me were after seru’d in order well:
For as Christ’s Godhead they would Rome expell,
[Pg 281]
And would not serue the God of meekenesse sent,
To pot apace their hawty heads were pent.
15.
I banisht some, and some to death I put,
And foure and twenty fathers graue I chose,
From shoulders eke most of their heades I cut,
And left likewise aliue but twaine of those:
Seianus I did slay, of Drusus deadly foes:
I Germanique adopted late, with poyson slewe,[923]
His sonnes likewise my poysons force well knewe.
16.
The men that did Iehouae’s sonne refuse,
The King of Iewes, the Lorde of life and health,
Were gouern’de thus: Tiberius thus did vse
The men that were the Gods in common wealth,
Forsaking so their heauenly sauing health:
The Emprour I, which shoulde their liues defende,
Sought all the meanes to bring their liues to ende.
[Where both our armies met, and fought it hande to hande.][1048]
[Pg 312]
6.
I trusted sure that Fortune woulde mee guide so well
As erste shee had,[1049] in batayles whilome faught:
But proofe doth teache mee nowe the trueth[1050] to tell
What I by Fortune’s flattery fayre haue caught.[1051]
Whom shee setts vp,[1052] shee bringeth soone to naught.
[As when I had the Britaynes in disdayne,
And thought by batayle all theyr lande to gayne:
In fielde both I and mine were vanquisht, taken, slayne.][1053]
7.
T’is foly or the ende, for men to prayse theyr chaunce,
Or brag what luck they haue, or tell theyr fate,[1054]
Or boaste how Lady Fortune doth theyr deedes aduaunce:
For Fortune at the last doth vse to gieue the mate.[1055]
Whom first shee loues, shee afterwarde doth hate,
She flings them headlong downe, whom erste shee made excell,
Shee makes them bare and poore, whom erst shee placed well,[1056]
[And those which thinke to scale the skies, she hurleth downe to hell.]
[Pg 313]
How Seuerus the Emperour of Rome, and Gouernour of Britayne, was
slaine at Yorke, fighting against the Pictes, about the yeere after
Christ, 206, after others, 213.
1.
The stay of stately throne is nothing sure,
Where great estates on brybes or blodshed build;
As Didius Iulian put for proofe in vre,
Th’emperiall seate he bought, and soone was kild:
So Niger after him by armes assayde the same,
Albinus then, from Britayne armed came,
[For Empire sake they lost their heades and fame.]
Had right by due discent to clayme this [noble] land:
Of which repeate some proofe therefore I will,
That so thou maist our title vnderstand.
When all mankinde felt Iehoue’s[1086] almighty hand,
That drensht all nations quite, for their rebellious sinne,[1087]
Then strayght [eftsoones] in Scythia did the world [by Noah] beginne.
3.
Th’ Ægyptians hold forsooth that they restord
The world agayne, but, how vnlikely, see:
For Scythiae’s site is high as all accord,
[Pg 321]
From vs the fountaynes great’ste deriued bee.
The auncient writers all likewise agree,
That on Armenia mount the Arke [of Noah] did rest,
Till [heauenly] Ioue againe the earth with drowth addrest.
4.
But they alleage agayne their Zone is milde,
And fertile, temperate, meete to foster men:
Our Scythian hilles (they say) are frosty, wilde,
Which cannot breede but ruder people then.
To which I may well aunswere make agen,
[That as Iehoua made the Zones both hot, and milde, and cold,
Euen so to them hee fitly made like men the same to hold.][1088]
5.
They say wee are nigh neighbours to the Pole,
Or frozen poynt: more nere the fire are they:
What poysons breede with them, and Libians sole
In parcheing sands the writers wise display.
Can nature frame mankinde more deepe decay?
[Perdy] where parching heat, where serpents vgly breede,
A Clyme most fit from whence mankinde should[1089] first proceede.
6.
But now ile tell why Scythians should possesse
This noble Isle: first, Lord Neptunus gaue
The Islandes to his sonnes, both more and lesse,
Eke Albion first of all this Isle should haue:
Hee not with this content, the firme did craue.
Wherefore in Fraunce him Hercules dispacht,
When as hee would a kingdome there haue catcht.
[Pg 322]
7.
Now as from Noah [first] (of Scythia) by descent,
Downe vnto Albion’s time they held the land:
From Scythe to Scythian as of right it went,
And after him no Scythian Prince it fand,
When as vsurpers tooke the raygne in hand,
Was it not [right and] reason wee should vndertake,
This noble Realme our owne agayne to [Scythia subiect] make?
8.
The Romaynes this deny, but euen themselues likewise
(If they from vertue stray as reckelesse vse,[1090]
And doe Iehouae’s lawes and hestes despise,
And right, and trueth, and iustice so refuse)
Shall finde how much their Scepture they misuse.
The Scythian shall [likewise] their lofty seat assaile,
The [barbarous] Prince of Pictes against them shall preuaile.
9.
But softe lay here a strawe, Seuerus[1091] now I tell,
When hee the wall had made and pingde mee out,[1092]
To Scythia hence I saylde, and stoarde mee well
With men, munition good, a warlike route,
Of youthfull Pictes full strong in armour stoute
A Nauy good I brought, and entred on the land,[1093]
[A mighty worke,] of stately Yorke I tooke the seege in hand.
10.
The Emprour great Seuerus, Parthique proude,
With Romaynes, Galles, and Britayne souldiers came:
To make me rayse the siege of Yorke he vowde,
[Pg 323]
And I likewise to winne and raze the same.
To winne the prize we both our armies frame:
But he was [olde and] slie, his souldiers skilfull traynde,
My men to flie by ambush, [scoute, and skirmish] he constraynde.
11.
Agayne to fight wee fell afresh, the battayle grewe,
Aboute I brought my winges, and now they sounde
Tantara teares alarme, the fluits fight, fight anewe,
And there awhile the Romaynes fell to grounde:
The trompet blasts, cryes, stroakes and shoutes to skyes resounde,[1094]
They fall, fall, fly, the fluits; downe, downe, the drommes doe cry:
Where on the Romaynes sounde retrayte, and fayne [themselues] to fly.
12.
My souldiers all to rashe had broake araye,
The Romayne reare warde cast aboute with speede,
And both theyr winges enclosed vs eache waye,
Theyr mayne likewise to keepe aray gaue heede.
Which when I sawe, it made my hearte to bleede,
And to Seuerus selfe I wounded made at length a wey,[1095]
Where or retourne wee Scythian Pictes the Romayne Parthique sley.[1096]
13.
So when the Emprour fell, a showte arose,
The Romaynes blancke, amazed, woefull were;
Fulgentius fast recoylde, death wounded goes,
And of my crewe a troupe to ayde mee there:
I bought my Britishe conqueste all to deare,
No conqueste yet: [for as my sworde the kingdome sought,
My vitall bloude Seuerus death at Yorke to dearly bought.][1097]
[Pg 324]
14.
You noble men, yee see what truste there is
In Fortune’s feages,[1098] how mischiefe makes the martes,
And howe our hoped haps in warres doe misse,
When backe the braue and blinded lady starts.
High reaching heades swimme ofte in seas of smartes.
The [setled] man [reposde,] content, is bleste and best at ease,
Which [hath decreede] in meane [e]state both God and man to[1099] please.
[Pg 325]
How Geta the Yonger sonne of th’Emperour Seuerus once gouernour
of Britayne, was slayne in his mother’s armes by his brother
Antonine, Emperour of Rome, about the yeare of Christ, 214.
1.
If euer Prince [opprest] had cause his state to rue,
Or by his [ruful] end might moue men mone his chaunce,
My woefull tale may shewe the like to you,
Whom Fortune erst, and birth did highe aduaunce.
In Rome [perdy] in Britayne, Spayne,[1100] and Fraunce
I fauour had, I honourde was, I bare the sway,[1101]
I Emprour was [with Antonine:] what neede I more to say.
2.
In Britayne while my father waeged fight
By North agaynst the Pictes, I rulde the South:
Seuerus so apoynted mee to iudge them right,[1102]
And Britayne justice well receaude from[1103]Getae’s mouth:
I gaue not then my selfe to [giftes, nor] idle slouth,
But mildly made an end in causes[1104] great of strife,
With dome so [right and] iust, that men reioyste my life.
[Pg 326]
3.
The Senate honourde mee [at home] for vertue’s sake,
Abroade the Britaynes blest mee for their blisse,
The souldiers stout [in armes] of mee account did make.
Let stories truely tell where I doe halte in this:[1105]
Lest some suspect, that I reporte amisse.
For what is hee, which is not counted [partiall] vayne,
When for himselfe hee speakes, though [plea bee] nere so playne.
4.
In peace I [wise and] prudent was, and graue of grace,
In warres of courage good, but[1106] not so fearce withall:
Not forste with feare to turne from foes my face,
Nor bought with bribes to let Dame Justice fall,
I lou’de not, I, to throng the weaker sort[1107] with thrall,
But sought to pleasure eache at neede, both[1108] neare and farre:
More proane to sacred peace I was, then bent to [broyles of] warre.
5.
What hearte [is then] so harde but will for pity bleede,
To heare a [giltlesse] Prince which meant to each so well.
Should haue such cause to liue in feare and dreede
Of sworde, of bane, of force, or poyson fell,
Not daring Emprour nere his brother dwell,
Whom [both the] Romaynes lou’d, and straungers honourde still,
In peace moe bruntes abydes at home, then erste abroade of ill.[1109]
6.
But Antonine[1110] I hate his [hatefull] name and factes,
Sith hee my bucher was, my brother though hee were:[1111]
The worlde detestes his vile and viprous actes,
[Pg 327]
And subtile shiftes to bane[1112] his father deare:
So voyde of grace, so voyde of honeste [dreede or] feare,
Hee durst attempte the [nerest] gardes to bribe and fee,
By them theyr Lord his father might the Emprour poysoned bee.[1113]
7.
This when Seuerus wiste our aged syre, and saw[1114]
How Antonine that beaste was tiranously bent,[1115]
Agaynst the order quite of nature’s [noble] law,
Eke, how to take the empire whole hee ment;
For both of vs at Yorke hee often sent,
Perswading vs to peace, to loue, and concorde bolde,[1116]
And of the fruites of discorde [foule, and ciuill warres][1117] hee tolde.
8.
Yet Antonine regarded naught his [Father’s] heste,
Ne yet the charge of [British] warres hee had in hande:
Hee to enlarge his powre for th’Empire him addrest.[1118]
Which when Seuerus olde did vnderstand,
All pleasures quite and ioyes hee did aband,
And to the warres him gate: nere Yorke[1119] he tooke his ende
By sworde of Pictes, or by some traytour [fauning] frende.
9.
Then Antonine made spoyle of all his [father’s] men,
Phisitions nilde before at his requeste
Dispatch theyr Lorde, to death hee put them then,
And so hee serude of faythfull garde the reste.
What vilany was in this [monstrous] viper’s breaste:
Was not content with death [and goodes] of those hee sought,
But after [them] bringes [all] theyr friendes likewise to nought.
[Pg 328]
10.
I warned was by diuers eke my life[1120] hee thirsted sore,
And that the empire sole [alone] hee sought to haue,
[Whereon] as wee to Rome did passe I feared more,
I from his courtes and diets did mee saue:
I knew my life and th’empire he did [croach and] craue,
Wherefore in Rome my court I kepte [alone] likewise
From his aparte, that did ful ofte to murder mee deuise.[1121]
11.
My cookes and butlers were allurde[1122] by sundry giftes
To poyson mee, and some for mee in ambush lurking lay:[1123]
Hee tryde to cut mee off a thousand shiftes,
What maruayle, since hee sought his syre to slay?
Hee made his father’s [dearest] friendes for spite away,
[Because they nilde consent to his vile treasons wrought,
Hee slewe the men, to saue his father’s life that sought.][1124]
12.
[But all] his sleights for mee coulde take no sure successe,
For still his traynes and treasons were descride:
And I in daunger greate was forste[1125] to seeke redresse
By like attemptes [at laste,] but that likewise was spyde.
Pretended murder no man close can [keepe or] hyde,
But out it flyes abroade, the rumor runnes apace,
The only spot thereof [doth] all [the] vertues else deface.
13.
When this was knowne [to him,] that I likewise assayde
His life to reaue (though t’were my [only] life to saue)
No longer time to wrecke[1126] the same the bucher stayde,
[Pg 329]
Hee had the thing so long [before] hee sought to haue,
[Such] cause of [iust] reuenge the rumor small him gaue,
[That in the euening hee came on mee or I knew,
In cruell sorte to reaue my life before our mother’s vewe.][1127]
14.
There she perceiuing him with [naked] sworde approache,
In armes mee caught to saue my life and bloud,
But hee deseruing all the worlde’s reproache,
No whit in doubte to end my slaughter stoode.
My mother him besought[1128] (as seemde an empresse good)
While he [in rage] without remorce [or ruth] of her request,
Betwene her armes [that bare vs both] did run me through the breste.
15.
These were the [cruell] actes of that vile monster then
For Empire sake, to raigne alone aloft:
Despisde that was, [contemnde,] abhord of gods and men,
And curst to hell by all good men so oft,
You see the fall of Geta, [gentle,] milde, and soft,
Whose line of life no longer Lachesis[1129] could stretch,
Cut off by sworde of Antonine, th’unkindely captiue wretch.[1130]
16.
Let now the world both deeme[1131] of my desertes and his,
For to his father he was most, of sonnes, vnkinde:[1132]
His mother’s ioyes he reaude away her blisse,
That [noble] dame which bare to both so mylde a minde:
And let my dealings aye due [doome and] fauour finde,
Whose murder may giue playne prospect and show
What monster gaue his faythfull frends such ouerthrow.[1133]
[Pg 330]
How Aurelius Antonius Bassianus Caracalla, Emperour of Rome, was
slayne by one of his owne seruauntes, about the yeere of Christ,
209.
1.
Who thirstes to thring[1134] vnto the highest throne,
Ne wisely windes Dame Fortune’s subtile snare:
Or who in courte would rule the rost alone,
And sees not what he heapes himselfe of care,
Let him well wey my case, and then beware:
Whome foorth the stately seate did first allure,
Which after did my hastie death procure.
2.
And, Higins, here in purpose sith thou hast
The haplesse hauen where Fortune’s impes ariue,
A mirour make likewise of me thou mayst,
If thou my life and dealings wilt discriue.
It may perhaps much profit some aliue:
Which when themselues playne paynted forth they see,
They may presage their fatall falles in mee.
3.
I am that Antonine, Seuerus sonne,
That once of mighty Rome did beare the swaye,
Which in my father’s life a stryfe begone
[Pg 331]
With Geta, thyrsting often him to slay:
I sought to haue my father made away,
To raigne alone so great desire I had,
Naught but theyr deathes indueste my hart to glad.[1135]
4.
My father oft exhorted both to peace,
Declarde by stories olde what came by strife,
Dehorted both from ciuill discord cease,
But I sought meanes to rid him of his life.
I banisht to Sycilia isle my wife,
Encreast mine hoste, reckt not my British charge,
But how I might enioy the empire large.
5.
And first when as my father once was dead,
I gaue my selfe to all reuenge of foes,
The seruants late which stoode me not in stead,
And some physicions which my treasons did disclose,[1136]
And so from thence to th’campe[1162] likewise agayne
I might [mee thought] retyre, without a greater trayne.
49.
Amongst the which, one Martiall of my garde,
Whose brother (not conuinste, accusde) I slewe,
Thus wise my captiue corps did watch to warde,
(For when therefore conuenient time hee knewe,
While I aparte me gate for nature’s due,
And bade the rest aside a space departe)
Hee came and stabde mee stifly through the harte.
50.
Seuerus seruaunts I corrupted ofte,
Them feeid to make their Lorde my syre away;
With Getae’s men the like attempts I wrought,
[Pg 344]
To bane their lord, and brother mine to slay:
How I the Alexandrians did betray,
And Parthians eke, before to you I tolde,
Deseruing death for those a thousand folde.
51.
But sith those faithfull seruaunts I did kill,
Which would not sley their noble lordes for golde,
I worthy was to haue a gard so ill,
As shoulde to perce my hatefull harte bee bolde:
The justice great of Ioua here beholde,
Uniustly who so seekes to slay the [iust and] good,
The sword at length shall take his false and traytours bloud.[1163]
END OF THE FIRST PART.
[Pg 345]
[Pg 347]
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.
[Pg 348]
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[Pg 349] 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[Pg 350] 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)[Pg 351] 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[Pg 352] 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.
“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:[Pg 354] 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.]
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.
[Pg 356]
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.
[Pg 357]
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.
[Pg 358]
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.
[Pg 359]
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.
[Pg 360]
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.
[Pg 361]
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.
[Pg 362]
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.
[Pg 363]
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.
[Pg 364]
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.
[Pg 365]
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.”
[Pg 366]
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.
[Pg 367]
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.
[Pg 368]
[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.”]
[Pg 369]
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,
[Pg 370]
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,
[Pg 371]
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,
[Pg 372]
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,
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,
[Pg 380]
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?
[Pg 381]
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.
[Pg 382]
[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[Pg 383] 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.]
[Pg 384]
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]
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
[Pg 392]
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:
[Pg 393]
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:
[Pg 394]
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.
[Pg 395]
[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.]
[Pg 396]
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,
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,
[Pg 407]
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.
[Pg 408]
[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.]
[Pg 409]
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]
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:
[Pg 414]
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]
[Pg 415]
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,
[Pg 416]
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.
[Pg 417]
[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,[Pg 418] 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.
[Pg 419]
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?
[Pg 420]
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,
[Pg 421]
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:
[Pg 422]
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:
[Pg 423]
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,
[Pg 424]
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,
[Pg 425]
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.
[Pg 426]
[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,”[Pg 427] 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.]
[Pg 428]
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:
[Pg 429]
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.
[Pg 430]
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,
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:
[Pg 440]
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.
[Pg 441]
[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.[Pg 442] 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.”]
[Pg 443]
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.
[Pg 444]
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.
[Pg 445]
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.
[Pg 446]
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,
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.
[Pg 448]
[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.]
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.
[Pg 450]
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,
[Pg 451]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
[Pg 452]
Which Satan sets, with traynes of tastlesse bayte,
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]
[Pg 456]
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.]
[Pg 457]
[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.]
[Pg 458]
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,[Pg 459]
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,
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.
[Pg 464]
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.
[Pg 465]
[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.]
[Pg 466]
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.
[Pg 467]
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]
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?
[Pg 469]
[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.”]
[Pg 470]
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 kingdome
of 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.
[Pg 471]
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]
[Pg 472]
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:
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
[Pg 477]
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,
[Pg 478]
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,
[Pg 479]
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.
[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 ye 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’sShakesperiana, No 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’sChronicle.
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
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
“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 ye 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 ye 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 ye 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.
[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, No
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,
100l. 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’sSonnets sweetly sauste,
And featly fyned bee:
There Norton’sDitties 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.
[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 mostvertuous 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.”
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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,
[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.
[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.
[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.”
[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 ye 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.”
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.”
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
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.
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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.”
[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.
[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.
[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.”
[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.
[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.
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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.”
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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.
[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
unchanged, 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.
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: